#why not bring daniel even lower

[loumandforyou]

everyone moved on, but I'm still here.

“Danny. I will ask for the third time. What did Alice say when you finally asked her to marry you?” “Louis perhaps we should... ” “She said no. ”

[petew21-blog]

Siblings rivalry

Lyle was nervously grasping the wheel, side eyeing the man next to him while driving: „Could you, please, put some shirt on?”

“Why? Is it distracting you? It’s just a body, Lyle, and you’re not a faggot. Shouldn’t bother you. Am I right?” the shirtless man sitting on the passenger’s seat responded with a smirk and subtle disdain in his voice.

“Of course I��m not… It’s because of the sweat. The car is borrowed and I don’t want to clean it.” Lyle quickly responded and tried to change the subject

“The car is an old piece of shit. We’ll be lucky if we even make it to the beach in time.”

The engine started making weird noises and the car slowed down. “See, told you.”

Lyle stormed out of the car and screamed:”Can you shut the fuck up already?! I can’t take this anymore. I want my girlfriend back.”

“I didn’t choose this either. And I still am your girlfriend!”

Lyle's girlfriend Nicole has a twin brother, Nicholas. Their family is one of the most weirdest ones you’ll ever meet in your entire life. And Lyle had the pleasure, or maybe misfortune, to find out the hard way. They got their hands on some magical shrooms or something. Some made you see the future, some gave you a really great time and there were also ones that swapped your body. Trippy right? Yeah… Naturally the parents used it for orgies and other experimenting.

But occasionally they used it as a method of punishment. Nicole told Lyle, that she had to be her mum for two weeks last summer, just because she lied about her school results. Lyle didn’t believe the whole swap thing until the parents found out that Nicholas and Nicole didn’t share the same morals about feminism and male value. Nicole was obviously a feminist, but she was belittling her brother. On the other hand, her brother didn’t even stop to consider how different a life is for a woman. The whole family had an argument about this and the parents decided to swap Nicole and Nicholas for the ENTIRE summer before university. Yep, insane.

Nicole responded to her body quite well to be honest. She was in a male body before, but never in her brother’s. Them being twins might have helped a bit. Nicholas is an attractive male, so Nicole had it quite easy. He has a great physique, handsome face and generally is a great guy. Lyle and Nicholas often joked together about women, watch football or play videogames together. But having his girlfriend in his body? Way different for Lyle.

Lyle caught her staring at herself many times. She seemed completely unphased, maybe even excited to be in male body now. Which can’t be said for me. Sex was obviously a no go. Lyle didn’t even want to touch her without feeling like a fag. But Lyle knew something bad was about to happen sooner or later. Maybe this would be a test for their relationship. Maybe it will uncover that he is a superficial asshole and that he love her only for her body.

She keeps staring at Lyle sometimes and tried to even seduce him, but he just can’t like this. Not while she is in Nicholas’s body.

Which brings us back to the present, currently on the coast far from the beach party where we were supposed to be hours ago. Unfortunately, Lyle had to borrow his grandparent’s car and it just broke down. Nicole smiled after being right again and seeing me snap.

She had her shirt off and leaned against the hood of the car. “So what now Sherlock?”

Lyle: „I don’t know. We’re in the middle of nowhere. And the cur is busted.”

Nicole: ”Jesus, Lyle. Be a man and call Jake. He can at least come get us.”

Lyle nervously nodded and took out the phone. He went behind the car and waited for someone to answer. Meanwhile Nicole moved from the front and went to the back of the car, adjusting herself for Lyle.

Lyle finished the call and before he looked up he said: „They’re all drunk already, so Daniel is going to wait a bit before he’s sober and will come get us.”

Nicole: „Good. More time for us to have fun” Lyle looked up and saw Nicole in her shorts, slowly lowering them.

Lyle quickly turned around. “Jesus fuck, what are you doing? What if someone sees you?”

Nicole:”Who? You mean the nearest guy miles away from us? Yeah, right. I wanna get Nicholas a good tan for the summer. We agreed to treat each other’s body properly.”

Lyle knew Nicole had different intentions, but he wouldn’t succumb to her. He isn’t gay for fuck’s sake.

Nicole took the folding chair they had in their trunk and positioned herself in front of the car, enjoying the sun.

Nicole: „When was the last time that the two of us had some proper free time to just stop? Did we ever? Feels like the first time. Maybe we should use it properly.”

Lyle: „What are you suggesting?”

Nicole: „I think we should fuck. You haven’t touched me in weeks.”

Lyle: „Because you are a man now!!! And your brother, Jesus fuck.”

Nicole:”Cut the crap, Lyle. Do. You. Love. Me?”

Lyle:”… I… of course I love you.”

Nicole: „Do you love me for me, or my body?”

Lyle: „I… I love YOU.”

Nicole: „So come and prove it.” Her daring voice made Lyle feel uneasy. But he felt as if something was pulling him towards Nicole, towards Nicholas.

Nicole got up, uncovering her hairy manhood. This was the first time that Lyle looked at it. It wasn’t hard, but even now it was still pretty impressive. Nicole headed to the car, going past Lyle and whispering in his ear: „I haven’t sucked your dick in weeks. I need to have your dick as much as you want me.”

Lyle looked as Nicole laid down on the car seats, waiting for Lyle to make his move. Her dick was getting hard and getting bigger. Maybe even bigger than his own. Lyle couldn’t keep his eyes off of that thing.

Nicole spoke up: „Lyle, I need you. I need your dick!”

Lyle’s dick was hard as well. He felt himself throwing his clothes off as if he was just a passenger. He thought about Nicole giving him that great blow job of hers once again. He could see in his memory, his dick disappearing in her mouth.

He got close to Nicole, lowering himself on top of her, HIM. And was ready to push his dick closer to her, but he was so horny, that he didn’t even realize that he was now the one holding HER dick in his hands. Jerking it furiously. Lick it from top to base. Swallowing it fully. He didn’t even realize he didn’t have much trouble swallowing her cum. Even after SHE pushed HER dick in his ass, he didn’t find it that weird.

They laid on top of each other, breathing out loud, enjoying each other’s company, making out. Nicole gave Lyle a sign that she need to go out and piss. Lyle stayed in the car, still struck for what just happened. Nicole’s phone vibrated. Lyle thought that maybe someone was ready to pick them up, but instead it was Nicole’s friend Stacy texting her. The text said: „Hey, Stacy. Thanks again for swapping with me. I really needed to be fucked and not as a man, haha. Hope you’re enjoying it. Luv U”

Lyle:”What. The. Fuck?!”

[formulakracing]

vii. the in-between - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 5.2k

warnings: buckle up y’all cause we go. angst, cursing, size kink, edging, praise kink, FUCKING, LOTS OF FUCKING. toto being a simp, banter, yearning, mentions of divorce, mentions of alcohol use, creampie, teasing, yadayadayada… y’all know what’s about to go down

prev. | next.

“it’s fine, mom. really.” 

bringing a hand to your temple, you begin to massage, attempting to alleviate the accumulated pressure. 

“i mean, yeah, i’m not in trouble or anything. as far as i know, the fia is letting me race in suzuka. it was my first offense so they dropped the investigation. as long as i publicly apologize for my actions, everything will be cleared up.” 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

do you know how many people have asked me about you? baby, people approach me at the goddamn grocery store asking me why you beat up that poor little british boy! he’s built like a twig for god’s sake! 

rolling your eyes, you lean back in your chair, keeping the phone pressed against your ear, “mom, his name is george russell. he drives for mercedes. he’s not some little boy.” 

all right, all right. well maybe he needs to come over for some dinner or something. get some meat on those bones. anyway, did i tell you that your father has been scouring ebay trying to purchase sports cards with your car on it? well, he’s found ones with you on them too. he wants to make a booklet of his favorite kiddo. 

with that discovery, your heart swells, “is he really? tell him to look up topps chrome cards. those are the best ones. since i’m not as popular as max or lewis, they should be pretty cheap. and mom, i’m your only kiddo.” 

that’s why we’re so proud of you. even if you get into fist fights, we still love you bunches. when do you think you’ll come home? your dad wants to take you out in his baby. he’s made some modifications to it. he thinks you’ll appreciate it more than i will. 

“where is dad? is he asleep?” 

yes honey. he’s asleep. snoring away on the couch with the dogs. i wish we could give you a taste of home somehow. maybe i could have a care package sent to japan? 

“mom,” you exhale, “that would be so much money. don’t worry about it. were you guys considering flying out for miami?” 

oh yes, about that! you perk up in your chair, anticipating your mom’s response. we are going to be there. we can’t wait to see you. we miss you so much. it’s so quiet when you’re not home. will i be able to meet some of your coworkers? 

letting you a giggle, you shake your head, “mom. they’re my fellow drivers. we’re not coworkers. but yeah, i could probably introduce you to a few of them. daniel wants to meet you two.” 

what about that handsome fellow with the bright blue eyes? he drives for redbull! and yes, i would love to meet daniel. 

“max verstappen?” you arch a brow, “we’d have to see about that one. he’s a very busy man.” 

okay, okay. the line cuts out briefly. hey honey, i think i need to head to bed. i love you so much. keep in touch, okay? we’ll see you in a few short weeks. 

nibbling on your lower lip, you nod, “i love you too, mom. tell dad i love him. i miss you guys. i can’t wait to see you.” 

me either. goodnight honey, or good morning or afternoon or whatever time it is over there. i’ll text you when i wake up! love you. 

“love you,” your lip trembles, hands clamming up as you the line goes silent. 

fuck, were you homesick. 

you just had to make it a few more weeks. then, you could finally reunite with your parents in miami. although you knew you would be so fucking busy, you would make time. 

you always did when it came to your parents. 

also, you had another plan brewing as you scroll through your contact list, searching for a certain dutch assassin. a certain dutch man who happened to be a three-time world champion. 

somehow, someway, your mom was going to meet max verstappen. 

you had to make that happen. 

you had to. 

currently, you were sitting on the edge of a bed in a suite in london, anxiously awaiting the arrival of your driver. a decently-sized suitcase sat near the door, a carry-on stacked on top. 

this driver was provided specific instructions to transport you from london to brackley, dropping you off at the door of a certain team principal’s home. 

yet, you were well aware that it wasn’t going to be just any old home. 

this man was billionaire, after all. 

buzzing in your grasp, your phone notifies you of a new text. 

from none other than toto wolff. 

the driver is on the elevator, heading up towards your suite. DO NOT handle your bags. he will do that for you. i don’t want you to fuss over a single thing. from there, he will bring you here, where he will punch in the code for the gate. i will be waiting for you at the door. 

i can’t wait to see you, schatzi. i miss your beautiful face and sweet laughter. 

oh, and i can’t wait to kiss you. 

(and yes, i am pacing around in my office as i type this. i can’t focus on anything else but your arrival) 

with sazuka quickly approaching next week, you would only have a couple of days with the team principal before you had to part ways. he would have prep, meetings, press, where he would then fly out to sazuka. meanwhile, you would have to catch a flight, meet with your team, prep, and potentially meet with press, fans, and the other drivers. 

additionally, you had to address the incident that occurred last week at the australian grand prix. to your surprise, the fia had dismissed the investigation, finding no substantial evidence that the two of you needed to be punished. due to the nature of the accident, george was not punished, as he did no illegal maneuvers or intentionally attempted to take you out of the race. 

on the other hand, the fia was adamant that if this happened again, you were going to face consequences. you would have to shell out a pretty penny for fines, and then you would be immediately disqualified from three future races, deeming you unable to participate.

although they were merciful, the fia made it very clear that since it was your first offense, they were going to be fair.. 

however, if there was a next time, they would not be so kind. 

a crisp knock rang out, startling you. 

springing to your feet, you open the door, an older man smiling in greeting. 

“you must be golden girl,” sticking out his right hand, he dips his head, “i’m theodore. i’ll be your driver to brackley this evening. i am here to not only be your escort, but to tend to anything you may need. mr. wolff made it very clear that you were not to fret over a single thing.”

“good morning,” the corners of your lips curl into a quaint smile as you shake his hand, “thank you. i’m eager to see the english countryside.”

“i’ll handle your bags ma’am,” theodore clears his throat, “you just take it easy.”

“will do,” you nod, “how long is the drive?”

“about an hour and a half,” theodore responds curtly, slinging your carry-on around his shoulder, “don’t worry, it’s not too boring. follow me this way, my lady. our chariot awaits!”

following him down the hall, he presses the button for the elevator. there’s a silence between you, but not an uncomfortable one. theodore’s presence was warm, inviting even.

upon meeting him, you understood why he was toto’s right-hand driver. once he escorted you to the car, he opens the door for you, ushering you inside. when you settle into the backseat, you notice the glint of a redbull can, along with your favorite snacks and candy. 

“mr. wolff wanted to ensure you wouldn’t be hungry,” theodore states as he climbs into the driver’s seat, pressing the button for the ignition, “he told me that you can be a little cranky if you don’t have any snacks.”

“oh? he said that?” a giggle bubbles up in your throat, “did he say anything else about me?”

“oh yes,” theodore chuckles, turning the gear shift, “he’s told me all about you. to be quite frank, he hasn’t shut up about you the last week or so.”

“so you know who i am?”

“of course i do,” theodore nods, flashing you a grin in the rearview mirror, “you’re one of the best formula one drivers on the grid. you drive for williams racing. you’ve only won one grand prix, but i believe you’ll win a few more this season. your hometown is in yuma, arizona. you’re twenty-two years old, and from what toto has shared with me, you have a very bright future ahead.”

“are you a formula one fan?” you arch a brow, punching open the can of redbull. 

“who isn’t?” he shrugs, “well, ms. golden girl, we are going to begin our journey. if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to speak up. if you’d like, you can tell me a little bit more about yourself. we will have plenty of time.”

as theodore promised, the drive to brackley was painless. yet, as the car pulls up to the gate, your heart skips a beat.

this was no quaint english cottage.

toto’s brackley residence was a sleek and sprawling two-story home, a black and white exterior with massive, thick windows. your jaw almost drops, and theodore notices, letting out a hearty laugh, “don’t act so shocked, golden girl. i’m sure you’re aware toto is a very wealthy man.”

“i thought he would have kept things somewhat simple.”

“oh love,” theodore shakes his head, “you and i both know that toto is anything but simple.”

rolling down the window, theodore punches in a code, the gate sliding open. as the car lurches up the drive, your heart thumps in your rib-cage, blood roaring in your ears. 

this was really happening. 

you were really staying with toto. 

“nervous?” theodore senses the shift in energy, “you have no reason to be nervous. he’s been anticipating your arrival. he’ll be happy to see you.”

“thank you,” you manage to muster a meek smile, “i-i just didn’t think we would get this far.”

“well savor the time together. time flies, especially in our world. one day you’re at a track, the next you’re in another country. he adores you, golden girl. so don’t you fret about that. just relax, and enjoy your time. i will be here in a couple of days to bring you to the airport for your departure to sazuka.” 

“thank you,” at his words, you can’t help but let out a sigh of relief, “i look forward to our next drive together!”

“as do i,” shifting the gears, theodore puts the car in park, slipping out of the driver’s seat, “we have arrived. let me get your bags.”

he strolls over to your door, opening it as you clamber out, stretching your sore legs.

no matter how much time you spent in a car, there was always that persisting stiffness. 

you’d probably need a double-knee replacement by the time you were forty, but that was the least of your worries. 

out of the corner of your eye, you notice a figure strolling towards the car. with the large stature, you knew it could only be one particular individual. 

he’s dressed in a royal blue button-up, paired with khaki slacks. on his feet are earth-toned dress shoes. the blue hue of the button-up complements his dark hair, almost brightening his features, giving them a youthful glow. tufts of his hair are all over as the wind blows. 

yet, he looks as gorgeous as ever, his toned muscles rippling under the thin fabric of the button-up. 

“welcome to brackley schatzi,” the grin enveloping his face is radiant, “i hope the drive wasn’t too bad.”

“not at all,” you shake your head, the team principal nearly sucking the wind out of your lungs as he wraps his arms around you, squishing you against his chest. 

“i missed you so much,” tender lips connect with your cheek, “good afternoon, theo! did she behave herself?”

“of course,” theodore promptly places your bag next to the entrance, suitcase in tow, “i have another commitment here soon, mr. wolff. i hope it is all right i placed her bags next to the door?” 

“don’t worry about it,” toto’s fingers find yours, intertwining them together, “i’ll get them. please drive safe, theo.”

“i will, mr. wolff,” theodore dips his head, turning to you, he takes your hand, shaking it, “it was lovely to meet you. i look forward to our next meeting, golden girl. enjoy your time together, you two!”

“we will,” toto squeezes your hand, “goodbye, theo.”

“goodbye, mr. wolff!” theodore spins on his heel, making his way to the car, “behave, you two!”

in response, toto gives a thumbs up, theodore slipping back into the driver’s seat. as he peels off, toto shifts his body, facing you.

“charming, isn’t he?”

“he’s great! kept me entertained the whole drive!”

“i told him you have a short attention span so to keep you occupied,” toto shooks you a wink, earning an eye roll. 

“i can’t stand you.”

“you’re standing right now, aren’t you?” his chuckle is light, “come, let’s head on in. i have lunch waiting for us.”

“you made me lunch?” 

“yes, i’m going to drive you all the way out here just so starve you,” he scoffs, yet his tone says otherwise, “i have food ready. and wine, if you want some.”

“don’t tell me you want to get me drunk so i’ll confess all my secrets.”

“consider that my new goal for the afternoon,” toto grabs your bag, along with your suitcase. pushing open the door, he clears his throat, “welcome to my home away from home.”

as you step in the entrance, your eyes widen, lips parting.  

the space was truly a reflection of toto. refined and elegant, with a hints of charm. the marble floors gleam under the soft lighting, rays of sun shining through the vast windows. the walls were covered in a menagerie of decor, from pieces of art to mercedes memorabilia. it was not the typical billionaire’s home, where the air felt sterile and cold. 

this place was warm and full of life, coaxing you to stay. 

“cat got your tongue?” his breath fans against your ear, a hand gliding along your back, “follow me, schatzi.”

“your home is beautiful.”

glancing over his shoulder, you are met with his gorgeous smile, dimples and all, “thank you, love. i’m glad you like it.”

trailing behind the austrian, you stroll down a long hallway, turning into the last room on the left. toto places your bag and suitcase next to a glass door, “this is my bedroom. you’ll be staying here with me.”

“straight to the bedroom huh?” you fold your arms across your chest, teasing, “you just couldn’t wait–”

“come here,” toto growls, hands grasping your wrists, bringing you in, “no, i can’t wait.”

looking up, you match his gaze, cocking your head, “what are you going to do about it?”

at your rebuttal, toto’s eyes narrow, “what do you think i’m going to do?”

“fuck me.”

“hmmmm,” he hums, leaning in, “you’re right, schatzi. i am going to fuck you. i’m going to fuck you till you’re weeping me for me to stop.”

“weeping?” your hands roam, tugging on his button-up, “i’d like to see you try.”

“oh schatzi,” he tsks, “you don’t know what you’re in for.”

“show me then.”

“i will,” lips ghost over yours, “i’ll show you how badly i missed you baby.”

as he kisses you, it’s tender at first, brimmed with the sweetness of reunion. one of his hands wraps around the base of your neck, tilting your head back as his tongue gains access to your mouth, the tang of redbull tracing your mouth. yet, as you whimper, a fiery hunger sets ablaze.

fuck, he missed you. 

he missed you more than he liked to admit.

tension hangs thick, clouding the space as his mouth places sloppy, wet kisses down your jawline, finding your neck. nipping gently, it takes every fiber in his being to resist the urge to just mark you all over. to leave marks where they could see. to make them wonder who was doing this to you.

but he couldn’t. not there. 

in response, your hips buck forward, grinding against his. toto groans, his head rolling back. 

there was not a single coherent thought in his mind. 

only lust. and fuck, was it consuming him whole. 

scooping you into his arms, he brings you over to the bed, your back meeting with the plush mattress. 

“i can’t wait,” he pants, chest heaving, “i can’t wait any longer. i need you.”

“then take me,” your words drip like honey, oh so sweet, “make me yours, toto.”

jesus fucking christ.

he was going to fuck the shit out of you. right here, right now.

there was no going back. 

he ached for it. he yearned for it. the fantasy flooded his dreams at night.

the things he wanted to do to you? 

downright filthy. sinful, even 

he couldn’t lose his inhibitions. not yet. he had to hang on. 

however, at this point, toto was hanging on by a thread. 

peeling your leggings and panties off, he tosses them to the floor, “sit up.”

you obey, nearly trembling with anticipation as fingertips hook the hem of your crewneck, pulling it over your head. nimbly, he hovers over you, finding the clasps of your bra. he undoes them, a crimson hue dusting his cheeks as he takes in the sight of you completely naked beneath him. 

god, you were absolutely breathtaking. 

every inch of you was stunning. every scar. every mole. every freckle. every stretch mark. 

you were so fucking beautiful. 

his hands fly to his button-up, eager for what was to come. 

yet, your hands find his, “let me.”

toto bites his tongue as you carefully undo the buttons of his shirt, his cock twitching, aching for your touch as your fingers delve towards his belt. you unbuckle it, tilting your head back, batting your thick lashes.

fuck. fuck. fuck. 

could this moment last forever? 

“toto.”

“yes?”

“i-i don’t know if i can take it all,” there’s apprehension inflected in your tone, almost as if you were embarrassed, “to be honest, i’ve never–”

oh god. 

this was going to ruin him.

just like he was going to ruin you.

“don’t worry,” a tender hand cups your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing your cheekbone, “i’ll go slow. i won’t make you take it all. i’ll take care of you baby, i promise.”

you nod, lips pursed as you tug on his slacks, hooking the hem of his boxers, “you’re just so fucking big. like holy shit.”

pride swells within the austrian for a moment, a chuckle rumbling in his chest, “i promise you that it’s not as big as you think.”

“can i see for myself?” the question is so innocent, so pure. 

yeah, he was going to ruin you.

he was going to make a mess out of you. 

“lay down schatzi,” he orders, authority oozing into the words. 

kicking off his slacks, he curses slightly as his boxers stick around one of his ankles. this wasn’t going to be perfect, but he wanted it to be. for you. 

he wanted this to be a moment you remembered for the rest of your life. he wanted this memory to fill your thoughts every second of every day. he wanted you to touch yourself to this, desperate and oh so wet, throbbing for him. yearning for his mouth. for his touch. for him.

carefully, he climbs onto the bed, hovering over you. as you look down, you can feel his gaze searing into you, burning right through. 

his cock was far bigger than your fantasies. it was thick, approximately eight or nine inches. you couldn’t tell. his tip was tinged pink, the glisten of precum catching in the light. veins wrapped around the length, throbbing as your hand wrapped around its base.

“fuck,” as he moans, you lick your lips, realizing how much you loved the sound that just filled your ears, “let me feel you, please.”

“please toto.”

swallowing thickly, he inhales sharply as he positions his tip at your entrance. applying pressure, a whimper rings out as he pushes in, your walls stretching. 

your pussy was heaven. absolutely perfect as it wrapped around his cock, begging for more as he pushed further and further. you were absolutely drenched, the juices slick and oh so sickeningly sweet. he didn’t even have to taste you to know. he just knew you were sweet. like pure ambrosia. 

perhaps he could get a taste.

“toto,” your lashes flutter, his name so perfect from your lips, “you feel–”

“your pussy is perfect,” he finds a steady rhythm, pumping in and out of your tight hole, “absolutely perfect baby. fuck, you’re perfect.”

skin connects with skin, the temperature of the room elevated as his hands found yours, pinning them to the bed. lips collide, the kisses desperate, hungry and bursting with need. as he picks up the pace, moans fill his mouth. 

fuck, it felt like he was going to split you into two. 

“t-toto,” there it was again, his name. music to his ears.

“yes baby?” a sheen of sweat clings to his forehead, tufts of hair dampened, “what is it? does it hurt? do you need me to slow down?”

“no. fuck me. just fuck me.”

oh god. 

oh, fuck. 

his cock twitches, the pleasure building in your abdomen as the tip brushes your g-spot, back arching, begging to be closer. closer to him.

could you be any closer to him in this moment? was it even possible?

before you know it, his arms wrap around your frame, picking you up off the mattress. he holds you close to his chest, one hand holding your head, cupping the back of your skull. the other remains on your lower back, gripping you tightly as the new angle sends bliss rippling all throughout your body.

he fucks you, and god there was no holding back. his cock was pounding into you now, showing no mercy. your ass slaps against his thighs, filthy noises flooding the space. 

as you bounce, you tense, your walls practically squeezing him, “toto, oh my god, i’m going–”

“good girl,” his coos, “be a good girl, baby. cum for me.”

as you get closer and closer, toto watches. fuck, the way your lips were parted ever so slightly. the way hairs clung to your forehead. the way your lashes fluttered. all he could see was pleasure. pure, intense pleasure. 

you unravel, coming undone. 

that sight alone was enough to make him cum.

“come here,” toto hisses through gritted teeth, “come here baby.”

the moment his lips mold with yours, you feel his cock throb, pumping threads of cum into your weeping hole. your muscles spasm, shuddering as he pulls out. 

the two of you study one another for a moment, catching your breath. fingertips brush stray hairs from your temple. 

“i’m sorry.”

“for?” you nuzzle into his collarbone, relishing the way his cologne lingered, mixing with his natural scent. 

“going too far.”

“that was not too far.”

tenderly, the austrian pulls you down with him, letting out a sigh as his head hits the pillow. your head remains against his chest, admiring the definition and tone for a moment. he peppers kisses along your forehead, browbone, and cheeks. 

“if i ever go too far, let me know.”

“i think we’re both in too deep,” you murmur, “you’re lucky you had the blinds drawn.” 

“that would be something,” his chest vibrates as he speaks, “could you imagine? some random mercedes intern witnessing the team principal fucking the most beautiful woman on the planet?”

however, a gleam catches your eye.

on his left ring finger, your heart sinks as you notice the ring. 

his wedding band.

toto senses your silence, the way you tensed up against him, “what is it schatzi?”

“why are you still wearing your wedding band?”

oh, so you had noticed.

“it’s complicated.”

“complicated?” your voice falters as you prop yourself up with your elbow so you could meet his gaze, “you’re wearing your fucking wedding ring. it’s not that complicated.”

“yes, i am, wearing my ring,” he exhales, “would you prefer me to take it off? it has no meaning anymore. susie and i are divorced. we finalized it last december. when we signed the papers, we made a mutual agreement to wear our wedding bands when we were in the public eye. it keeps the speculations at bay. it’s mostly for the sake of my children. and for her sake. we respect one another and i would hate for her hard work to be diminished by rumors and gossip.”

although his words were sincere, your heart races still, anxiety a swirling torrent in your stomach, “how long have you been separated?”

“almost three years. we separated in july of 2021.” 

“oh,” you suck in a breath, shame washing over you, “i-i’m sorry for the sudden questions. i just–”

“it would complicate your feelings for me. and no one wants too mess around with a married man. i get it baby, i really do.”

although he provided a very base-level explanation of his failed marriage, toto was more than willing to go into more depth. that is, if you wanted. more than anything, he wanted you to know. that aspect was becoming increasingly frustrating, as the team principal tried to maintain that dominant, bold, persona.

you were making him weak. his little soft spot. 

well, not so little these days. 

“i cannot stand how well you read me,” rolling your eyes, you turn your back to him.

“don’t turn your back on me now,” he tsks, “do you believe me, schatzi?”

“i don’t think you could ever lie to me.”

“i couldn’t,” toto leans over, placing soft kisses all over your shoulders, “i think it would destroy me. the guilt would be too much to bear.”

“if we’re spilling secrets now,” you roll over, face-to-face once again, “i have another question for you.”

“all right.”

“why did you approach james about my contract behind my back?” 

for once, the team principal is caught by surprise, his heart skipping a beat. 

the hurt plastered across your features is clear, your brows furrowed, eyes narrowed. there’s a glimmer of anguish in their depths, slightly glossy from the threat of tears. 

“i wanted to gauge how he felt if you were to leave williams,” that was the truth, really, no other intentions behind it, “he was not too keen to discuss it, but i just wanted to know how upset he would be if you were to sign with another team. i did it for you, to soften the blow.”

“soften the blow?”

“yes,” toto nods, “to soften the blow when you tell him you’re leaving williams and signing with mercedes.”

“you don’t know that for–”

“but i do,” his voice hardens, “i do know. we can’t just lay here and deny that in your heart, you want to be with me at mercedes. you’ve made the decision already. you just haven’t figured out how you’re going to approach james, alex, or your team.”

biting your tongue, you turn your head, averting his gaze.

toto was right. you had made your decision. 

it was just a matter of time before you had to face the facts. 

“i’m right, aren’t i?” 

“you are,” you huff, squeezing your eyes shut, “i-i just don’t know how to tell everyone. i don’t know how to tell my parents. i don’t know how to bring it up to james. it’s just so.. fuck. it’s so fucking overwhelming to think about.”

“then let me help you.”

“how?” you inquire, “how would you possibly do that?”

“i’ll keep my distance from here on out, but i will help you draft up a letter that you can give to james. or, i can help you practice what you’re going to say. just let me help you schatzi,” fingers grasp your chin, turning your head. 

“you hear me? i’ll help you.”

“can we just worry about it later?” 

“of course,” strong arms envelop your frame, drawing you in against his body, “for now, we can snuggle. would you like that?”

“i would.”

your tough exterior completely crumbles as his mouth hovers by your ear, murmuring words in german. desperately, you ache to know what he said. was it something important? or just sweet nothings? 

sometimes he was a difficult man to decipher.

“hey, have you opened that gift yet? the one i brought to you in jeddah?”

“no,” you admit, heat billowing into your cheeks, “i have a hard time accepting gifts.”

“clearly.”

before you can respond, he’s up from the bed, strolling over to your bags. unzipping your carry-on, he searches for that parcel. fishing it out of your bag, he sets in on the bed, sliding on his boxers before plopping it in front of you.

“open it. right now.”

“right now?” you echo, “toto, i–”

“open it.”

“fine,” nimbly, your fingers untie the bow, peeling away the wrapper. 

underneath the paper, there is a tiny velvet box. it’s long and slender, rectangular in shape.

“what is this?”

“open it and you’ll know,” toto urges, following your every move, anticipating your reaction.

opening the box, your heart swells at the sight before you.

it’s a bracelet, a dainty figaro chain, complete with a charm. the charm is an outline of the saudi arabian track. picking it up, you inspect it, noticing a date engraved on the backside of the charm. 

“how were you able to get this so quickly after the race?” 

“i have my ways,” toto bears a sheepish grin, “do you like it?”

“like it? i love it.”

well, you didn’t love it. you fucking adored it. it was perfect, and so you. it was something that you could wear everyday, a constant reminder of the years of effort to get you here. not to mention it was gorgeous, the chain shiny, freshly polished. 

a hand reaches out, plucking the chain from the box. his brows are knit together with concentration as he slips the chain around your wrist, ensuring it’s safely clasped.

“i figured it would be something you could always wear. a reminder of when you made history.”

“it’s beautiful,” sitting up, you shift your weight to your knees as you wrap your arms around his neck, “thank you, toto.”

“always, schatzi. don’t worry, i will always spoil you.”

as toto nuzzles into the crook of your neck, he was well aware of one thing.

you had made your decision. 

you hadn’t outright said it, but he knew you made your decision. 

you would be signing to mercedes for the 2025 season. 

you were finally going to be by his side every day. 

there was no more in-between. no more will she or won’t she. no more nights of him lying awake, wondering where you stood. no more driving himself insane pondering all of the possibilities that could unravel. 

he had you. 

you were all his now. 

and god, did that leave such a sweet taste in his mouth. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

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[httpsserene]

mouth like liquor — 𝐝𝐫. 𝟑 daniel ricciardo x fem!black!reader 3.5k words. requested! explicit sexual content. pwp. alcohol. one night stand. car sex. mild exhibitionism. oral sex (m & f receiving). reader has $$$. reader will ruin your life and look hot doing it. inspo from partition by beyoncé.

synopsis: driver, roll up the partition, please.

⌕ join taglist | feedback & requests | upcoming chapters | table of contents ↻

From the moment you strolled by to reach your reserved table, his eyes have been locked on you. You haven’t decided if you want to meet his stare, there hasn’t been an opportunity to appraise if he’d be worth more than a passing thought. 

Your attention is called back to the table by one of your girls, who points out a different man who’s paid for a round of shots. He’s adorable, cute even, younger than you’d usually entertain, sporting a flashy Cuban link chain and cable knit sweater with loose jeans—but his company leaves a lot to be desired. His friends barely look like men, dressed in wrinkled shirts and zippered jeans, flexing their singular bottle of Hennessy for the table on social media. You nod at him once in thanks for the shots and he tips his glass at you, understanding your meaning. He’s the second man who’s paid for your drinks tonight, and the second man you’ve had to politely turn down. The first guy was so unremarkable you can’t recall why you decided he wasn’t worth your time.

You down the lemon drop, humming at the burn as your girls cheer in the background. They decide to make their way to the dance floor and you opt to stay at the table, claiming that you’re going to order another drink before joining them.

They slink off at your excuse and minutes after they’ve disappeared, a daiquiri is brought to you by a bottle girl. Her sickly sweet voice doesn’t disguise the envious glare in her eyes as she informs you that it’s been paid for, tipping her head to point out the man who’s been quietly observing for the entire thirty minutes you’ve been seated at the table. 

In this club, every woman loathes you, and every man is waiting for you to decide who gets to unclothe you. 

You accept the drink, thanking her politely, stirring the daiquiri as you watch her swallow her scoff before walking away. If you were as immature as she is, you would have her fired in the blink of an eye.

You make him wait five minutes longer before turning to lock eyes with him from across the room, bringing the glass to your lips to sip the daiquiri, tilting your head to elongate the length of your neck, exaggerating the bob of your throat as you swallow. Peach Schnapps and passion fruit rum warm your chest. It’s delicious. You don’t stop sipping, maintaining eye contact with the unknown man until it runs dry. Exhaling quietly, you lower the empty glass, fluttering your eyelashes at him as you swipe your tongue across your bottom lip to collect the lingering drops of alcohol.

His mouth parts in incredulity, you assume, and you take advantage of the lapse of his composure to examine him. Your gaze is languid as it drifts from his brunette curls to his full eyebrows and warm brown eyes, to his strong nose, ample lips, and groomed beard, to his broad shoulders and the exposed tanned skin of his collarbone that teases a sliver of what’s certainly a muscled chest and abdomen underneath a black shirt with the first two buttons unfastened. Accessorized with a simple silver chain around his neck and an expensive watch on his wrist, you think you spot a few tattoos underneath the low lighting. Your eyes flicker downward to gauge if his pants show what he’s packing, but the distance between the two of you prevents you from being able to play your favorite (and necessary) guessing game. You huff disappointedly, knowing you're going to have to speak and potentially dance with him to get a closer view or feel, for if he meets your standards.

Ending your inspection, you drag your gaze upward to see a smirk splayed across his lips with an amused shine to his eyes. You shrug as if to say, “Can you blame me?” before smiling widely at him, the white diamond jewels on your canines flashing under the sparse light, creating the facade of sparkling fangs. His smirk fades as he matches your grin, displaying a near-perfect set of white teeth (veneers or a product of braces, you presume) and he raises an eyebrow in query.

Tipping your head toward the dance floor, he nods his agreement. You kindly turn down a few men who invite you to their table on your walk past, making false promises of joining them later in the night. Locating your girls in the mess of dancing bodies, you inform them about your potential bed warmer. A couple of them roll their eyes laughingly, a couple of them smack their teeth, and a couple of them call you a whore—and giggling, you feign vexation, correcting your title of “whore” to “slut.” You don’t do this for money, you do it for fun.

Their judgment doesn’t last any longer than it takes them to remember that their various levels of drunkenness are due to your ability to enchant various men into making sure that none of you spend a single dollar inside this club. They perform a quick check of your outfit and makeup to make sure you’re perfectly put together before allowing you to slip away to ensnare your catch. 

You snake your way through the swaying crowd, taking a few minutes to locate those familiar broad shoulders. As you’re reaching out to place a hand on his back, you meet the eyes of a woman on his other side tugging his hand. Unfazed, you stare cooly, hiding your mirth within as you watch her face pale. She glances between you and the man once, before dropping her hand and stepping away, disappearing into the crowd.

He grins when your hand rests on his pec, his vision tunneling as you step around to press your chest to his, hips swaying to the music blasting from the speakers. You drape your arms over his shoulders and his hands raise to rest on your hips, his own stirring to match your rhythm with ease. 

He leans down to speak in your ear, alcohol-stained breath dancing over your skin and sending a shiver down your spine, “Jealous much?”

Hm, you weren’t expecting an accent. Straightening up, you turn to speak close to his ear as well.

With a short, performative chuckle, you chirp, “Of her? Not a chance. Were you trying to make me jealous?”

“No way,” his laughter is contagious, and you giggle into his bearded cheek without restraint, “I reckon if f I played that game, you wouldn’t waste another second on me.”

“You would be right,” you concede, finding no shame in that, “—Is that an Australian accent, I hear?”

“You would be right,” he parrots your phraseology, “Never met one of my kind before?”

You glance downwards, ogling at the weight pressing at his zipper, and up close, a sizable print stares right back at you. 

You grin predatorily, all sharp teeth and diamonds, teasingly grinding your hips forward, “Mm? No, I’ve met a couple. Can’t say any of them have been quite like you, though.”

“My name is Daniel,” he introduces himself, “I figure you at least need to know my name if we’re leaving together.”

Oh, how sweet of him. You won’t tell him that you never cared to get the names of the last four guys who kept you company. To please him, you give him your name, trailing your lips over the shell of his ear and down his well-muscled neck.

His left hand lowers to palm your ass, and you hum lowly, “My car is waiting out front if we’ve decided to stop pretending like we’re going to dance.”

Daniel’s hand pulls away to grab yours and he leads you to the club exit. Walking outside forty-five minutes after you entered, you point toward the running Mercedes Maybach waiting by the curb. Your driver moves to step out but you halt him with a wave of your hand, wordlessly telling him to stay put. This allows Daniel the chance to play gentlemen, opening the back door for you and making sure you don’t knock your head on the hinge as you sit before he follows you inside.

The door clicks shut and your lips crash together, teeth clacking with little finesse. Impatient, you bury a hand in his curls, tugging forcefully to direct his head in the perfect angle, chuckling breathlessly at the shocked groan that rumbles out of his chest. You deepen the kiss, nipping his bottom lip before sliding your tongue into the fray, licking out the lingering taste of the gin he’s ingested. He pulls you into his lap, hands fitfully roaming around the curves of your body like he can’t pick an area to settle. Offhandedly, you’re pleased to discover that his pretty teeth are not veneers, as you familiarize the shape of his mouth with yours, greedily swallowing his noises whole.

The sound of a throat clearing interrupts your pursuit, and your driver speaks, “Pardon the interruption—where am I heading, ma’am?”

His mouth leaves yours and you frown, sighing disapprovingly as you pull away. Your pout transforms into a tickled smile as the hot flush of the man underneath you deepens from pink to red, his pupils remaining flared with arousal even though his eyes are wide in embarrassment. Your red lipstick has left a faint tint; you want to see if you can turn that into a stain before you part ways.

Fuck. What’s his name? Nathaniel? Samuel? Gabriel? None of those sound right.

Tutting quietly, you start unbuttoning his shirt, “Do me a favor and tell my kind chauffeur where we’re headed.”

The flustered man stumbles through the address of the hotel he’s staying in, not petrified enough to forget his manners as he thanks your driver afterward. 

“Eric,” you call out to your driver, finishing with the buttons of the brunette’s shirt, scratching stiletto nails down his abdomen with one hand while the other traces a fingertip along his nose, “Would you mind rolling up the partition and turning up the music for yourself, please?”

“Of course, ma’am.”

The car pulls away from the curb, starting on the route toward the hotel. You assumed that he was humiliated or ashamed of being overheard or seen, but the notion is dismissed as he pulls you off his lap to rest in the seat, lowering himself to his knees between your legs before the partition has finished rolling up.

He cranes upward to reconnect your lips, hand braced at the nape of your neck to prevent the force of his movement from bashing you into the headrest. You hum, endeared at the mindful handling, savoring the scrape of his beard and mustache against your smooth, dark shin. Over-excitedly, his lips drift to map the sensitive expanse of your neck, pulling a shocked whimper from you at the first tease of teeth and pressure. He’s too eager to linger and continues to explore further, laving his tongue along your clavicle and nipping at your cleavage exposed by the low cut of your blouse.

His hands fist into the sheer fabric, ripping off your top and sending the buttons flying across the backseat. Need flares hungrily at the sensation of his lips suctioning on a patch of skin next to your nipple. Your mobility jolts into action, nails digging into his scalp to jerk his head back, and you assert, “You don’t get to leave marks.”

He doesn’t comprehend, distracted by the biting pain of your hold, hissing through his teeth, “W-what?”

You relax your grip, raking your fingertips through his curls apologetically, “What’s your name again, love?”

A dubious snort leaves him, “Should I be offended that you forgot that quickly? It’s Daniel.”

“Don’t take it personally, Danny,” your smile is shark-like, diamonds twinkling, red lips making it look like you’re coated in blood, “—And, don’t leave marks.”

Too horny to care about the insult of your forgetfulness, he nods to confirm he’s heard your request, pushing the hem of your skirt to bunch around your waist, thumbs digging into your hip bones. He skirts his lips along your inner thighs, breathing heavily over the fabric of your thong, already dampened a shade darker by your arousal. Daniel laves his tongue over your clothed heat, his depraved groan at the faint taste of you is louder than the choked gasp that punched out of your lungs. He tugs the fabric to the side, tucking it in the crease where your thigh meets your pelvis, revealing your beautifully swollen vulva. He licks indulgently at the petals of flesh, nose knocking against your clit, sending a bolt of pleasure spindling up your spine.

His tongue pushes inside, lapping deeply to coax out more of your flavor, the plushness of his mouth brushing against your labia. Daniel’s slurps and heavy breaths against your cunt echo around the back seat; if it didn’t sound like you were dripping wet, anyone overhearing may have assumed this was just a heavy make-out. Instead, your activities are fairly obvious, and your stuttered, debauched whimpers would expose what’s occurring in the car without doubt.

Honks sound from various directions outside, but it’s due to frustration with the stop-and-go traffic on the street. Blacked-out tint and loud R&B have yet to fail you. 

He sucks your clit between his lips harshly, circling his tongue around the swollen bud, and your frame jolts, hips bucking into his face, hand flying down to tangle in his hair, keeping him buried between your thighs, and crying out sharply at the almost overwhelming wave of pleasure. 

“Fuck—just like that,” you whimper, head rolling back. 

Daniel’s smug chuckle dances through your fluttering folds, but he keeps his focus narrowed on intensifying his motions, burying two fingers inside your pussy as he keeps his lips locked around your clit. His digits fuck you forcefully, curling upward and ravaging your spongy walls, slick noises multiplying at the speed he shoves them into you. The friction burn from his facial hair starts to sting and the compounded sensations have you throwing a leg over him, digging the heel of your foot into his shoulder blade to pull him closer.

The knot in your abdomen tightens, thighs straining to close around his head contradicting the movement of your hips rabbiting up into his mouth. His hand leaves your hip to grasp at your knee, keeping you pried open with ease. Your squeals go quiet, back arching, eyes screwed shut, muscles cording with tension, and the rope snaps—violent, white-hot satisfaction crashing over you like an unforgiving stormy sea and spilling over Daniel's tongue, lips, and chin.

His mouth and fingers continue their assault, riding the undulation of your hips with spectacular accuracy as the aftershocks shudder through. You go boneless, falling limp against the leather seat and batting Daniel’s head away, spent. You giggle breathily, bare chest heaving in exertion and you can only think about how you’re going to need to get the car detailed tomorrow. Your lids open hooded, peering down and sneering at the self-satisfied expression on Daniel’s face.

“You must spend a lot of time between a woman’s legs to be that good at it,” you say lightly, a bit of an underhanded compliment. With your lifestyle, who are you to judge?

He shifts stiffly, tattooed hands dropping to adjust his pants, and he snipes, “Or, maybe I just enjoy doing it. And, you’re easy.”

“Did you cum in your pants already?” Your voice sings demeaningly. “Or, do you want me to return the favor and show you which one of us is really easy?”

You swap positions, his legs alluringly spread wide as you situate yourself on the car floor. His smile is goading, buttoned shirt splayed open to reveal the tanned expanse of his toned physique riddled with claw marks from your nails, his tongue out, licking up the lingering trails of your essence and you smack your teeth at the needless display. You pull him out of his pants, keeping your delight at the heavy weight of him stored inward, a smirk quirking the corner of your lips as you notice the precum that’s moistened the head. Your hand wraps around the base to hold him steady and a fresh bead blots out from his slit, “I don’t see you lasting much longer, so tell me when you’re close.”

Not giving him a chance to respond, you lick from base to tip before swallowing down the first few inches, amused at the gasped “Fuck,” he exclaims. Daniel tastes like salt and the musk of man, the weight of him in your mouth quieting an innate need screaming at the base of your skull. You moan, guttural, sliding down until your lips meet your hand, tongue cradling the underside of his dick. 

You draw up slightly, inhaling through your nose, hand moving to rest on his clothed thigh before you slowly suck him down to the hilt, ignoring the urge to choke as he breaches your throat. He curses above you loudly, skull slamming into the headrest as he clumsily brushes the hair out of your face, tugging it back with a tight fist. Your lipstick leaves a ring of red around him and you pull off to press kisses on the throbbing length, admiring how the color of your lipstick begins to blend with the desperate flush of his cock. 

You suckle over him until he’s wet with spit, swallowing the pre that streaks out straight from the source. His abdomen contracts sporadically and you suck him down again, knowing if you continued teasing this would end sooner than prematurely. He bucks up and you mirror the movement, lips sealed tightly around his girth as you bob your head, ignoring your gag reflex.

“Fuck, how do you look so good doing this?” He moans, and you assume it’s rhetorical because your ability to explain how is compromised. 

Your technique is determined, eyes stinging at the constant intrusion as you watch his expressions shudder underneath your unwavering attention. Tears fall from your lash line as you suckle harder, tongue swirling as you struggle to pull him completely inside your mouth. Daniel’s present enough to understand your wants, and assists, using the grip he has in your hair to angle you perfectly, the final few centimeters slipping inside. 

You dig your nails into his thighs to hold him steady, swallowing around him repeatedly to tighten your throat further. Daniel yelps, choking on his own spit as he stutters, “S-shitshitshit—I’m gonna—”

Swiftly, you lean back until just the head remains between your lips, tongue lapping over the most sensitive areas while your hands rejoin to twist harshly around the rest. 

“Fuck,” Daniel grunts roughly, cock kicking. You draw off completely, angling his dick downward and sliding your hands up to wrench his tip, thumb digging into the slit, and then he’s spilling. 

His release streaks across your neck and chest, creamy and thick on your skin, hips thrusting into your tight grasp, whimpering through you wringing out every last drop, brown eyes pried wide open as he sees himself paint you white.  You nurse out the last bead of spend from his tip with a suckle of your lips before guiding his cock to gently rest on his abdomen.

Daniel slumps back with a shaky breath and you grab the remains of your shredded blouse to wipe off his cum. You swallow reflexively, the ache of your throat has your core tingling and your mind whirring. You were too eager, tonight. You should’ve gotten him inside of you before you rendered him useless. If you had known he’d just be good for head, this could’ve been resolved back in the club bathroom, and you wouldn’t be stuck with having to drop him off at his hotel since there’s no point in going up to his room anymore.

A long honk blares from in front of the car and you sigh, choosing to give Daniel another chance as he’s been your best lay in the last six months, “Are you able to get it up again?”

His brow furrows in genuine offense this time, and you raise your hands in apology. You follow his eyeline as he looks down, dumbfounded to see that he’s only softened a bit. 

“That one only took the edge off,” he says, tone confident.

You climb up, seating yourself on his lap. He grabs another piece of your shirt from the seat, cautiously attempting to wipe away the mascara tracks streaked down your cheeks and the smears of red lipstick around your mouth. 

The partition rolls down at your first knock as if the operator was straining to listen, “Eric, we’ll be heading to my home instead, if it’s not too much trouble to change course.”

“It’s no trouble at all, ma’am. We’ll be arriving in twenty minutes.”

He rolls up the divider without you having to ask. 

“Do you need to use the twenty minutes as a break before we arrive at my place?” You question, trying for sincere thoughtfulness this time around.

Daniel doesn’t respond, reaching forward to grasp your cheeks with a firm hand, yanking you into a kiss, unbothered by the flavor of himself in your mouth. If his ability to fuck is on par or better than his head game, and he manages to satiate you two or three more times tonight—it might be incentive enough for you to remember his name come morning.

© httpsserene - do not reupload. photos in header image are from pinterest. divider by @cafekitsune.

[venus-vault]

The Wife Of A Close Friend

Daniel Cleaver × Fem!Reader (18+)

Synopsis: Part 1 - One Christmas Eve, while Mark is stuck at the office, Daniel Cleaver pays (y/n) a visit...

⚠️TW: Cheating, Mild Daddy Kink, Mild Dirty Talk, Manipulation, Sleaziness, Raw P in V Penetration, Carly Simon, General Smut.

The house phone rings out, shrill and I pick it up "Hello?"

"Hello, (y/n). When's hubby due home?" Daniel, my husband Mark's best friend.

"Daniel, hi. Mark said he'd be back closer to 6pm. Do you two have plans tonight?"

"I'll be there in 10. Wear something appealing."

"Its only two, why would you-" click.

Asshole.

I hang up and a little over ten minutes later the doorbell rings. I open it to a smiling, if fatigued, Daniel Cleaver. He's flushed, breathing hard as he runs a hand through his hair. Today he's wearing a linen button down and jeans under his coat and if I wasn't constantly on the verge of wanting to kill him, I'd say he looks good. Great, even.

"Did you run here?"

"Did I run here? Will there ever be peace in the middle east? Are you wearing panties? These are all very difficult questions, (y/n), I propose we start with the panties and work backwards," he wheezes

"Watch it-" I warn

"You're right, I'm awful, we should talk it out over drinks,"

I roll my eyes and he nods into the foyer, pushing past me.

"Oh, won't you come in." I plead flatly.

I step aside, closing the door to follow behind as he saunters into the kitchen, plucks a beer from the fridge and discards his coat over the counter. His eyes leer over me as he takes a swig of his drink.

"Does Mark know you traipse around the house in these skimpy little dresses while he's at work?"

"It's Prada, for your information and it is not skimpy..." I tug the hem of the mini dress as low as I'm able to, but it refuses to support my assertion and I feel myself redden some.

He smiles devilishly and turns away for a moment, teeth catching his lower lip as he does. "Right," he scoffs, amused at my expense.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this midday home invasion, Mr. Cleaver?"

"Two-thirty is hardly the middle of the day, (y/n), middle of the afternoon maybe, but-"

"The point. Reach it."

"You don't remember the model number of the speaker set you gave Mark last year for Christmas off-hand, do you? I've been looking for something similar for my flat, they're sold out everywhere, and I've never heard more crisp audio in my life than I have through those speakers."

"Oh, erm... I don't remember it off-hand, actually, we did just move them to the bedroom from the living room, I'll show you where they are. Do you have a pad and pen?"

"Always, lead the way."

I show him upstairs to the bedroom and lean against the doorframe, pointing out the speaker set just across from mine and Mark's bed.

"Just there, check whatever you need."

"Excellent, you're a peach, thank you."

"Anytime."

I watch Daniel investigate the speakers, turning a couple over and writing down some numbers in his moleskine. He then shuffles through the adjacent CD collection a bit before looking over to me.

"What's your poison?"

"I'd rather not."

"Come on (y/n), have some fun, god knows that's gone out the window here now that you and Mark are married." He quips, continuing his search.

"Here, Carly Simon : 'No Secrets', we love a bit of Carly, dont we?" He winks and I can't help but giggle.

He sets the CD into the player and selects a track, pressing the play button. The muted bass intro of  'Youre So Vain' fills the room and Daniel is... it wouldn't be fair to call it dancing but he is definitely... moving to the beat, and -shock horror- extending a hand to me.

'and all the girls dreamed that they'd be your partner, they'd be your partner and-' 

I let out a loud laugh as I take his hand and we are twirling, twisting, dancing... having fun. 

He's not the worst dancer in the world and I nearly cackle as he dips me, brings me up, spins me out and back into his arms, and this is nice, actually.

We sway and maybe I've judged him a bit too harshly... he is best friends with Mark after all, how bad could the man be, really?

"Y'know, Mick Jagger subbed in backing vocals on this one..." he speaks into the crook of my neck, low and soothing, his breath warm.

"Did he?" It becomes apparent to me that yes, yes he did. Interesting.

"Mm. It's funny, the song could very easily be about him..."

"I suppose it could be, huh..."

'I had some dreams, there were clouds in my coffe, clouds in my coffee and...'

As we sway, Daniel's body molds to mine, hands finding my hips. I let my eyes close, my hands resting over his. We fit together like puzzle pieces as our fingers interlace and this is nice. It's never like this with Mark.

Daniel's lips ghost the side of my neck and a shiver runs down my spine "Daniel, don't..." I turn around, my eyes meeting his in shock.

"(y/n), darling, relax. We're only dancing. I know for a fact, Mark barely even uses these speakers. Why not let me appreciate what he so clearly doesn't?" he closes the short distance Ive left bewteen us, eyes trailing over me, drinking in my face, my figure. "What he couldn't...possibly..." his eyes capture mine and he leans down, bringing a hand up to stroke my cheek. I don't move. I can barely breathe.

'and when you're not you're with, some underworld spy or-'

Daniel's lips lock to mine and the world goes quiet. Our tongues explore eachother's mouths and he moans and before I realize it I'm unbuttoning his shirt.

Daniel places a hand over mine. "(y/n). wait, wait." A look of genuine concern colors his features as he looks down at me, speaking softly "I just... I want you to know that I like you. Love you, really. Every day I kick myself for not objecting to your vows with Mark. You've completely captivated me since our first meeting. You occupy my mind, always... not just when I'm in the shower. So this... you, wanting me too... it...means something to me." His eyes search mine for understanding and it's there.

I take a deep, shaky breath. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

"What could I have said? 'No, Darcy, please don't marry her, I love her more than you do' ??"

His tongue traces his lower lip as his eyes flick to my mouth, and he starts to lean in again.

We shouldn't. This is wrong. I'm married to his best friend. He's an awful person. A total prat. A prat who tastes like cigarettes and Diet Coke. A prat whose hands feel incredible on my ass. A prat, who is currently...unzipping my dress... and whose charm I am utterly defenseless to. 

The dress in question falls to the ground in a heap and I'm stood before him in just my bra and panties. As Daniel looks me over, a low moan escapes him and he gasps.

"Ohh, how I've dreamed of this moment. You are...perfect, (y/n), just...ravishing..." his arms wrap around me again and he nibbles my neck while unhooking my bra, tossing it haphazardly aside.

He drags the freshly dampened panties down my legs and helps me out of them, eyes holding mine as he does. But his clothes are still on.

"Bit unfair, isn't it?" I question.

"Looking to level the playing field?" A grin. Daniel reaches a hand back, closing the bedroom door with a click.

I bite my lip, reaching out to undo the rest of the buttons on his shirt and push it off his shoulders.

His arms are well-muscled, his chest taut and stomach defined. I start to undo his belt, then his trousers, dropping to my knees before him as I do.

I can tell just from the outline of it he is thick and my mouth drops open as I watch his dick strain against the fabric of his black boxer-briefs.

My fingers hook into the sides of the waistband and he takes in a sharp breath as I pull them down his legs, cock eagerly bouncing forth to greet me.

Daniel tilts my chin up so I'm looking up at him again. "Can I ask a favor of you?"  He smirks down at me.

"Yes, Mr. Cleaver?" my best bambi eyes.

"Open your mouth, Mrs. Darcy."

I open wide for him, tongue out, and Daniel laces his fingers into my hair, slowly guiding my head as far down onto his length as possible, in and out, gradually speeding up to a regular pace. I gag when he hits the back of my throat and blink away tears as he continues to roughly fuck my mouth.

"Ohhh, Mrs. Darcy, your tongue feels fucking exquisite... there you go, that's a good girl... take. It. All..." he dips into the back of my throat a few times in a row and when I  gag again, he groans, gasping sharply. His hand is still enmeshed in my hair and he reminds me of it by jerking my head backwards, cock exiting my mouth with a pronounced pop.

Daniel strokes my cheek, taking in the sight of me on my knees, heaving, lips swollen, body buzzing.

"Mm. I think I'm going to have to fuck you now, (y/n). Too gorgeous not to, I'm afraid. Lay back for me, yeah?"

I rest back on the carpet and he follows me down, nipping and kissing down my neck, hands traveling over the contours of my body as he does.

He takes his cock in hand, stroking it a few times as he looks my face over.

"Are you ready for me?" I nod and he smirks, parting my legs. He glides the tip along my vulva, teasing, and lets out a satisfied hum at the slickness of it.

Daniel aligns himself with my entrance and hastily slips his cock inside of me. He is... much larger than I realized and I gasp at the sudden fullness as he begins to steadily roll his hips down into mine.

"Fuck me, that's tight, have you been fucked recently, (y/n)?"

My face is hot, all I can offer is a choked whimper and he smirks down at me.

"That's a no, then. Ah, don't worry pet. Daddy's here and he's going to take very good care of you..."

he murmurs into my neck, pace picking up.

He feels remarkable but it's so much and "D-Daniel?"

"Mm?" He keeps rocking into me,

"I- mmmh, it's- you're just- it's really big, and-" I gasp as his tip hits my cervix.

"Oh? Are you not used to something like this?" He taunts, grinning.

"Bit much for you then?" He gives another forceful buck into me and I moan.

"(y/n), we can stop whenever you like, you just. say. the word..." he pounds into me hard, one hand pinning my hip in place as I wrap my legs around him. " No Daniel, don't stop, please don't stop!" I whine.

"Mm. See, that's what I thought you might say... sound so fucking pretty when you beg for it like that, too..." he keeps railing into me and I gasp, feeling my body start to coil.

"(y/n) I'm going to pull out now, and you're going to turn over for me, yeah?" I nod.

"Good girl."

He pulls out of me and I do turn over for him, arching my hips up and looking back at him.

Daniel runs his hands over my ass, giving it a firm squeeze before guiding himself back into me.

It's easier to take this time, though still a little overwhelming. He pushes into me carefully, slowly, holding my hips steady, and as he fills me out I realize I spoke too soon.

He starts bucking into me again, his strokes commanding as our bodies clap against eachother. "Oh my Gohdd," I groan, tensing around him.

One of Daniel's hands snakes around my hip and his fingers toy with my clit expertly as he continues ramming into me. His other hand grasps a fistful of my hair, yanking back ruthlessly and my entire body is rigid with need as I clench around his cock once, twice.

"You are just... magnificent, (y/n), so wet, so fucking tight, christ, are you about to come?" He slows his thrusts some and I whimper at the change of pace.

"I said, are you gonna come for me?"

"Yesssss, please" I breathe, desperate.

"Please what?" He slows down to a glacial pace, still playing with my clit, torturous, and does he actually expect me to say it? No. There's no way.

"Please what. (y/n)?" Oh my god. He wants me to call him-

"Daddy! Please Daddy, let me come, I need it,"

"There you go, wasn't so hard, was it?" He speeds up again, pistoning into me rapidly, his grip on my hair tightening. "Tell me something (y/n), has Mark fucking Darcy ever made you feel this good? Ever made you crave it the way you do right now?"

"No, never!!" The words leave me before I'm aware I've said them and I wish it wasn't true.

"Who makes you feel like this?"

"You!! Only you, Daniel!!" I whine.

"That's right, now are you going to be a good girl and come for Daddy? I can feel you fucking twitching, (y/n), just. Let. Go."

Orgasm hits like a train and within seconds I'm a mess of pathetic, whimpering contractions beneath him, completely undone.

Daniel slows, letting me ride out the final waves of my climax, hand finally releasing its grip on my hair.

The familiar creak of the bedroom door handle cuts through our shared panting and the dulcet tones of the Carly Simon CD. Mark. No. No. Nonononono, SHIT.

My body goes slack beneath Daniel's and I look back in mortified terror.

Mark stands in the doorway, fuming.

"What the absolute fuck is going on here?"

A beat.

Daniel clears his throat "Oh. Erm. Hah. Mister. Darcy...you're home... earlier than anticipated. This is... awkward." he manages, sheepish.

Mark's eyes widen at the scene before him and I watch his face crumple momentarily as the information sets in.

Me. Ass up for Daniel Cleaver. On the floor of our bedroom. In our home. In the middle of the day. To Carly Simon. Mark exhales through his nose and he's bright red.

"Cleaver. May I speak to you outside for a moment?"

"Outside your wife or outside of the room?"

"You know what the bloody fuck I meant, now get the fuck off of my fucking floor!" He hisses, seething as he steps politely into the hallway.

"Right. Both then." Daniel mumbles into my neck, withdrawing from me and yanking on his clothes to follow Mark downstairs.

My body is hot lead and my head is hazy as I listen to the frantic yelling downstairs, something is thrown, -glass- it breaks, and finally, the front door slams shut. I hear Mark's footsteps bounding heavily up the stairs and I am well and truly fucked. In all manner of ways.

But all I can think about... is Daniel...

Part 2》

[melgolbach]

LIGHT SHOWER [sam golbach x reader]

a/n: this was requested by a special someone in my inbox (tysm for requesting and reading my work!!)

warnings: angst, cheating, mention of slight sex, cussing, fluff

it was another normal tuesday night with the two famous youtubers, sam and colby. you were invited to their house just to hang out with them and some of their other friends of course. though your boyfriend of the time, daniel, had called you for the past 20 minutes and had spammed your phone with too many messages to count.

you rolled your eyes at your phone, deciding to finally answer him. “yes, dan?” sam perked up at the mention of your boyfriend’s name. his eyes glared at nothing for a second, but quickly switched back to normal when a friend of his called him to set up a ping pong game. “please- hic- could you please come pick me up?” you clenched the bridge of your nose, annoyed that you had to leave early due to your douche of a boyfriend. “send me your address.” you heavily sighed.

you walked over to the coat racket, bringing your jacket and placing it on your body. “well. looks like i’m leaving early tonight guys,” you smiled sadly towards your friends. “no.., please don’t tell me it’s because of your douche-y boyfriend daniel?” devyn whined. “i’ll be the only girl here now.” you noticed sam snapped his head a bit rather quickly when you told them the information. “you’ll have tara arrive in a few, you’ll be fine dev.” you gave her a hug, waving to the others and walking to the door.

sam jogged slightly over to you, “are you sure you’re okay to drive? i’m sober and can easily take you home.” you waved him off, “i’m fine really. i only had a drink, barely. plus i’m out to go get daniel. that little piss of shit is already drunk and it isn’t even nine yet.”

sam huffed at that, “i seriously don’t know why you’re still with him.” your heart hammered at that. “we’re… high school sweethearts, sam. even if i ever wanted to leave him, we live in the same apartment.” sam chucked at that, “you can always stay at ours. i’m pretty sure colby wouldn’t mind, we both love you you know.”

you gave him a small smile. “and i really appreciate it, sam. i’ll text you when we arrive home safely. goodnight.” you gave him a side hug, and departed from the party. you walked to your car and put the destination into your phone and it was ten minutes away.

finally arriving there, it looked to be a sketchy apartment building. your face reeked of disgust by the way it looked, ‘must be a 2 star review. or maybe even lower..’ you shudder as you walked in.

your eyes locked to the lady at the front desk who gave you a weird look, “i’ve never seen you around this part of town. who are you here for?” she asked with a thick accent, you sighed. “my boyfriend.” you responded. she awe’d and went back to whatever the generation type of computer looking was on her desk.

you called daniel twice now, but he had declined. he finally sent you a message two minutes later with floor six and room number 665. you groaned, already knowing that it will smell of frat boys in the apartment and that you’ll have to drag daniel all the way down your car. thank goodness the front parking spot was not taken. as you reached the door, something felt odd.

there was no loud, banging music, and there wasn’t usual girls and guys making out in the corridor the party would be held at. you gulped, knocking on the door. you waited for a minute but no one seemed to be home— though you knew daniel was here since you saw his regular blazer out in the front laying dirty on the floor. ‘gross,’ you thought.

your heart hammered loudly enough for you to hear, and without even thinking you decided to slowly open the wooden brown old door in front of you and take a peek into the room. the hallway light was on and you then heard it. moans. daniel’s moans specifically, and a girls one at that too. it smelt disgusting as well with whatever was living in here. almost vomiting, you held it in together and walked towards the living room where the light was on and you could clearly see daniel getting fucked by two blonde complete naked women. and you snapped.

“what the FUCK,” you screamed. the three heads turn towards you, daniel’s mouth wide open as it was being used by a dildo toy from a women sticking it down his throat. “bb-baby,” he struggled to get out, his hand grabbing towards you. “do not EVER, call me baby. don’t even think for a second you can come back to me or the apartment either.”

you look at the two women who seemed to already be in their thirties, and you looked at them disgusted seeing how daniel was only 25. “we’re done. daniel, have a good life.” before you left, you looked around to see if he had the keys to the apartment and you spotted them scattered on the floor. you picked them up with your pinky, careful to try and not to touch it seeing as it was on the dirty nasty floor in the room with them.

as soon as you got into the lobby, the lady only looked at you and sighed. “i should’ve said it sooner baby, but this apartment is only used to for partners to cheat on their significant other’s and mostly— it’s usually threesomes that are in here.” she gave you a sympathetic look but you only looked at her in disgust, quickly leaving the place.

you got into your car, locking the doors seeing as it was now 10 a clock and you did not want any type of stranger trying to get into it. your eyes were blurry, and you didn’t even know if you could even drive back home let alone if you even wanted to go there.

then, you thought of sam. you bit your lip, contemplating if calling him up would be ruining the party for the others too. but you said ‘fuck it, i need him more than they need him.’ so you dialed in sam’s number, and after a second ring he answered. though you could barely hear him, seeing as the party got louder and music was blasting. “sam,” you hiccuped into the phone.

at the other end of the phone, sam’s eyes widen. he ignored the calls for his name, and rushed out to the window to where it was peaceful and quiet enough to hear you. “hey, hey are you okay? what happened? what did douche bag daniel do to you?” sam asked, bombarding you with questions.

you hiccuped even more, tears finally streaming down your face. “please pick me up, i don’t think i can drive right now at a time like this. i don’t feel safe here either.” you asked him, and even though he knew you didn’t see him, he nodded. “yes of course i’ll pick you up. i’ll get colby to drive his car and i’ll drive yours. where’s the address?” and you sent him the address as soon as he asked for it.

you sat there for a good ten minutes till you saw colby’s car pulling up. he parked next to you, and the two men got out. you were drenched in your own tears, shaking so little but they could still see you were a complete wreck. “i’m gonna fuck him up,” colby rolled his shoulder, walking up to the glass doors but sam immediately stopped him and signaled his head to you. “y-you don’t wanna go in there, trust me that place is nothing but filth.” you got out. your face not knowing what to chose, confusion, disgust, anger, sadness.

colby’s face held sympathy for you, giving you a big hug from the front. “alright. well tell me when you two go to your apartment—“ you cut him off there. “i was wondering if i could still attend the party? i don’t think i wanna go back..” you mumbled, your hand softly tugging on colby’s sleeve. he smiled, “of course you can come. and i’m gladly willingly to let you stay here too of course, in my room…” he wiggled his eyebrows, sam glared at him for that. “or sam’s! or sam’s… i guess.” he shrugged. he peaced the two of you out, getting into his car and driving back to their own apartment.

“i told you, colby wouldn’t have minded.” sam smiled at you. the two of you outside of the side door to your car. “thank you sam really, this means a lot to me.” you hugged him tightly, not wanting to let go. but a cough made you jump from it being so quiet outside at night. “the fuck are you doing with sam?” daniel slurred, staggering left and right. “i told you were done, daniel.” you glared at him. sam felt the tension and placed you behind him, his arm wrapped around your waist carefully. “please leave her alone.” sam spoke

daniel looked at him with wide eyes, “don’t tell me what to fucking do with my girlfriend,” he spat, another stagger towards sam. “get in the car,” he whispered into your ear. your eyes widen at when he told you that, but you listened nonetheless. “the fuck are you doing with her?!” daniel shouted, shoving sam. your eyes looked to daniel in horror when he tried to open your door, but sam of course sam pushed him back. “she’s not yours anymore, you fucked up.” sam shouted back, “and you known what? i’m glad you did. she never deserved you. you’re a fucking asshole!” sam shoved him all the way back to the doors and the last push had daniel flat to the floor.

“you’re a dead man when i get to you, samuel.” daniel sneered out, “you’ve done fucked up.” sam started off, “and i am so glad you did. now,” sam looked back at you who was looking through the windows down at them.

“i have her all to my self. and i will treat her so much more better than you ever have and ever will, she’s a queen and you and i both know that. but you fucked up.” sam pushed harshly onto daniel’s chest, his eyes glaring deep into daniel’s green ones. “she isn’t yours anymore.” sam sneered, walking away from the drunk man and getting into the car.

he huffed out, blowing his hair. “well tonight has been crazy.” you didn’t pay attention to him, more to daniel the way how he looked at sam as if he was the devil. you grinned slightly to sam, “what the hell did you say to him?” you laughed lightly.

sam side eyed you with a gaping smile, pulling out of the parking lot and driving back to his apartment “you don’t wanna know sweetheart.” at the mention of that nick name, your heart beat raced up and your cheeks were a bit red but you thanked it was late because if it wasn’t, sam definitely would’ve seen.

by the time you to got to sam and colby’s place, colby texted sam that he threw the party out for you. your heart ached, “you didn’t have to do that colby.” you said as you entered the kitchen where he was, already cleaning up the mess. “they’d be as confused to why you returned with tears down your face. i didn’t want them to bombared you with everything while you’re still trying to comprehend it all.” he smiled at you. you gave him a smile back, hugging him tightly.

“i don’t have any clothes to change to,” you spoke. you were in jeans and a silky sphageti silver top, so you felt uncomfortable in the outfit you picked tonight. “i got some clothes, go ahead and go take a shower if you want too,” sam ruffled your hair and you flipped him off, but thanked him and walked towards the shower.

after your nightly shower routine, you got out and called sam over. “i need underwear,” you breathed out awkwardly, embarrassment all over your face. sam’s face had reddened at that, “uh- uhm, well we don’t have any here… uh i can- hand you over some of my boxers?” he squeaked out. you chuckled nervously, “thanks sam. and a pair of tshirt and some basketball shorts maybe?” he nodded and left you, but came back a minute later. “here you go.” you thanked him once more and got dressed.

you walked out, dressed all in sam’s clothes and colby had spotted you. “wow, now look at that. sam is finally getting the girl,” your eyebrow raised. his face looked in horror as sam looked from behind him with a ‘she doesn’t know yet!’ look. “oh er— you know, kidding! kidding,” he laughed off. “i can help you clean,” you suggested. colby shrugged, “nah sam and i both got it. where are you sleeping by the way?” he asked you.

you totally forgot about that. “sam if you don’t mind…” you trailed off, your eyes towards his room. “of course! you can always use my room if you want. i’ll sleep in the living room.” your heart hammered. “oh! uhm, okay,” you gave him a small smile, then walked into his room.

colby looked at his best friend with a straight face. “dude. she clearly wanted you in there,” he spoke. sam looked at him, “it’s just—, i want to give her some time. as long as she needs. just because as soon as she’s off the market, doesn’t mean she probably wants to date just now.” he mumbled. “yeah but, you could at least comfort her more.” colby smirked. sam rolled his eyes at him, and flipped him off. “i’m gonna go talk to her,” sam spoke. “hey! you need to clean too.” sam waved him off once more.

he knocked slightly on his own white door, opening a crack. he saw you on his bed, comfy with your phone out. “sam,” you smiled. he smiled back. “hi,” he spoke. he closed the door behind him, and sat on his bed next to you. “you know you can sleep here too, it is your bed after all.” you said. sam’s eyes widen, “are you sure? i don’t wanna push you a bit overboard.” you giggled at that, “sam i’m inviting you too. this is YOUR bed.” and so he climbed, he was already in his pajamas and got comfy into the bed.

“i’m sorry about your ex.” he mumbled, playing with his thumbs. “it was bound to happen. he was getting rather annoying this past couple of months, and being such a dick to my friends, and especially to you more often. which i never got,” you scoffed. but you could feel the moment sam froze. “do you want to know what i said to him, when we were fighting?” he asked you.

you looked at him and nodded. “i’ve been thinking about that since we’ve got here.” sam took a deep breath and breathed. “we started fighting about you. i told him how he fucked up, you deserved better. that you are a queen, and he lost the only good queen he’d ever find in this life..” he mumbled, “and that i was glad he lost you.” you looked at him confused, and he looked at you right back.

“i was so glad to hear you finally had broken up with him, because ive liked you for too long.” sam breathed. your breathing came to a halt, shock was written all over your face. “it’s okay if you don’t wanna be a thing or a thing at this moment,” he reassured you. “or if you don’t even like me—“ he was cut off from you, when he felt lips on his.

his eyes widen at that, but soon closed softly. “we can take it slow.” you spoke after you broke the kiss, “please let’s take it both slow. daniel was my ever fist everything, seeing as he was my high school sweetheart. so sam, if you do wish to date me, i want to do it the right way with you.” sam nodded, his head softly placed on yours. “it’s okay if we cuddle though, tonight?” he asked sheepishly, you smiled brightly and giggled just a little bit, “i suppose it’s okay.”

and after a bit more talking, the two of you got into a cute night position. you as the little spoon, and sam as the big spoon, protecting you from anything that would happen.

A/N: it has been MONTHSS since i’ve uploaded a fic, but here is one that was requested! thanks to the one and only anon! tysm :) (even if it took two months because i felt unmotivated and a bit busy at the time)

[lsunstreakerl]

slinking out of my homework induced coma. darkbull! 1.7k words, carlos pov. (I'll be posting the "discipline" ficlet later today hopefully, but you guys get some insight into it with this one). once again: this is the darkbull universe. it's not as bad as the kidnapping ficlet but it's not great either.

Carlos breaths out a slow breath, fingertips grazing the cool metal in front of him. Wheatley watches impassively from a few feet away, protective headphones around his neck.

"Your father ever teach you to handle those?"

Carlos remembers being small, holding BB pellets in his hands, but-

That had been for fun. Not anything serious, just boys being boys, trying to see who had the best aim, who could hit the furthest can.

Nothing like this.

He wraps his fingers around the handle and lifts, feeling the weight in his palms. It feels heavy, but not as much as it should.

Something with the power to so easily take a life shouldn't be so easy to lift.

"He didn't teach me with one of these, no."

Wheatley nods, stepping closer and rearranging Carlos's fingers around the handle.

"It's going to have some kickback. I don't want you worrying about bullseyes yet. I want you making sure your aim is steady."

Carlos brings it up in front of him as Wheatley raises his headphones up, placing Carlos's over his ears as well.

He widens his stance a bit, steadies himself as much as possible. Wheatley had been telling him about this part- shoot on exhale.

He focuses on the target and lets his thumb flick over the safety.

This is not what he thought he'd be doing when he joined Formula 1- not even close. None of it is. He didn't think he'd be content in a "junior" team, he didn't think he'd end up entangled in part of a historical criminal empire, he didn't think he would be in a three way relationship where only two of them know what's actually happening.

At least- he thinks it's three way. If it's not now, it will be soon. Daniel has been circling him and Max, like the moon orbiting the Earth. He gets closer each pass, eating meals with them or doing workouts together, and Carlos knows Max is head over heels, so it's really only a matter of time.

Max wants Daniel, just like he'd wanted Carlos, and he gets what he wants.

Always.

Max getting what he wants is why Carlos is here in the factory basement, learning how to kill someone.

Max has no idea about the way the factory revolves around him. He's their guiding star, their perfect pet, their number one driver.

Carlos sometimes finds himself wondering if Max even realized what was happening when he was seventeen. Probably not- Carlos remembers Max at seventeen, angry and defensive. Nothing like the Max of now, fierce on track but happy to roll over for the team, let them do whatever they want to him.

If Carlos hadn't been present in the factory to watch the slow progression, he almost wouldn't believe it. He has to respect Redbull for their patience, but-

He's afraid of how long they're willing to play the long game. They'd been so careful with Max. They'd gained his trust, and they'd gone so slowly it's no surprise Max didn't notice.

Holding onto him just a bit longer in a hug than someone normally would, a hand slipping lower on his back or higher on his thigh, palms around his neck- the slow removal of personal space, of boundaries- the way there are always eyes on him. Max is so used to being observed he doesn't even register it anymore.

Carlos had pressed him against a counter the other day, because Max had been sweet and desperate and wanting, and he'd had a moment where he worried that someone could walk in.

And then Max had whined into his mouth and begged for his fingers, and Carlos realized he didn't care. Max's flat is bugged, there are trackers buried deep into muscle and flesh, the team has never had any grievances about drugging him- if someone walks in on them, they'll probably just be glad to see Max has his needs met.

Just like he'd feared, someone had walked in- gotten their drink from the fridge as normal, winked at Carlos, and then left.

The only change afterwards was that Carlos felt like the team approved of him more.

So. He's been proving himself right lately.

Carlos looks at the target in front of him. Max is so- Max is naive, about the whole thing. The team works very hard to keep it that way, and that responsibility now falls on Carlos as well.

He tries to imagine someone breaking in, trying to hurt Max, trying to kill Max-

Redbull would go on a warpath.

Carlos thinks of Max laid out underneath him in bed, curled up with him on the couch, running next to him on the track. Fierce, syrupy sweet Max.

He thinks of someone else getting that Max, someone who's not Redbull, someone who hasn't put in the work.

There's a sharp flicker of possessiveness through him.

Carlos fires.

------

Two weeks later:

Carlos has his back leaned against the headboard, Max asleep between his legs, head resting on his stomach.

Daniel steps back out of the bathroom, passing Carlos a washcloth.

"He out?"

Carlos nods, fingers absentmindedly running through Max's hair. It's been getting softer since Carlos convinced him to start using conditioner. It's getting longer as well- enough that Carlos can tug on it gently, enough that the ends of it curl at the nape of his neck.

"Yes."

Daniel pulls on a pair of sweatpants and settles next to Carlos, careful not to shift the bed too much. They're both talking quietly.

"Well, we know he likes that."

Carlos huffs a small laugh.

"We should keep a list."

He means it as a joke, but the way Daniel tilts his head, eyes assessing- it might not be a half bad idea.

Daniel reaches over to the bedside table, tearing out a piece of paper from one of their smaller notebooks as he snags a pen.

His eyes shift over to Carlos, and he sounds contemplative when he speaks.

"Wheatley's added evening meets to my schedule for the next two weeks- said I should ask you about it."

Well, that answers a question Carlos had been wondering about, if Daniel had been trained already or not.

"He's going to teach you to shoot. Also some knife work."

Daniel snorts, eyes crinkling over at him.

"Nah mate, seriously, what's it about?"

Carlos lowers his head a bit, eyes flicking back down to where Max is asleep between them.

"I am serious. We are around Max a lot- we should know how to protect him just as well as the rest of the garage."

Daniel's eyes are wide when Carlos looks back up at him.

"Oh."

He carefully folds the paper up before sliding it back in the drawer.

"When did they start teaching you?"

Carlos hums, lightly scratching his nails across Max's scalp. Even in his sleep he makes a soft noise, burrowing slightly closer to Carlos.

"Right after we got together. The team is very observant about these things."

Daniel nods.

"And he seriously doesn't know anything?"

Carlos shakes his head, but it's somewhat fond. How Max has managed to remain completely oblivious is a feat in itself, and Carlos has his suspicions that Max purposely ignores things that don't make sense. Ignorance is bliss, or something like that.

"No idea. I think maybe he gets suspicious when the team is mad at him, but it is hard to keep track during that time. He gets very lost."

"Mad at him- like a couple weeks ago with the Williams incident? The only thing I noticed was that he was a lot quieter and had a hard time staying focused. If anything, the team seemed nicer to him."

Daniel sounds confused, which is fair.

"Daniel, that is the punishment."

Carlos needs to think of a way to phrase this that doesn't send Daniel running for the hills, cultlike crime empire team bosses be damned.

Carlos had thought it was bad too, when he'd first learned, but he's since then seen the positive effects. Max really does do better this way, with the positive reinforcement, but sometimes they have to... wipe the slate first.

"The Williams thing, he was reckless, yes? Was not thinking of his own safety on that overtake, and it crashed them both out. He was not thinking of his own safety because the pundits that week were talking shit about him."

Daniel still looks confused.

"They were talking shit about the whole garage, yeah. That weekend sucked."

"So the most recent thing in his brain is the media, for that race. Makes him race bad. The solution is to,"

Carlos flounders for a second. Christian had explained this much better.

"The team 'wipes the slate', if that makes sense. When he is lost or unfocused, it is because they are trying to remind him of the actual priorities. You will hear them remind him often about how we want him to drive. The repetitiveness-"

Carlos spins his index finger a few times to mimic the motion.

"-it sticks with him. He doesn't remember specific things from that time if they only happen once, but if everyone is telling him frequently to look out for his own safety in the car... much easier for him to remember, yes?"

Carlos brings his hand back down. It really does make sense, if you skip past the questionable ethics.

"And he does not like to be confused like that, so he tries to do what the team asks and avoid it."

Daniel's brows are furrowed, and he looks concerned- but also deep in thought.

"How the fuck are they doing that?"

Carlos shrugs.

"No idea."

He lets the topic drop, because he does know. Had even helped with it, after the Williams incident, because it helps Max, but Daniel-

Daniel isn't ready for that yet. Might not agree to the group effort of slipping things in Max's food and drinks, keeping him unsteady and disoriented. Carlos doesn't like doing it, none of the team does, but it's a necessary thing.

Besides-

He looks back down at Max. He's so trusting of all of them. Eager to please, thrives on praise- none of them could bear actually being angry with him. It still hurts the heart of the team when he's confused like that, and it's upsetting to see the way he gets disoriented and lost, but he comes out of it better. It's the right thing to do for him, and it works.

Daniel will get looped in when he's ready.

[drvirgus]

The shooting Range

Idol! Minji X Athlete! Reader

Wc: 2k

One Shot

———————————————————————————

Focused, I stared at the target, my hand outstretched and holding the gun in the correct position. I closed one of my eyes, especially since I needed to train both. I took a deep breath and moved my finger to the trigger. As I exhaled, I fired. This was my 150th shot today.

I pressed the button in front of me, bringing the target towards me, and immediately focused on it. I used 5 shots per target. My eyes narrowed as I counted the points I obtained on this target. Unsatisfied with the result, I sighed and secured the gun, placing it back in its place.

"Y/n," I heard someone say, recognizing my coach. My hand, still holding the target, lowered as my back straightened. My eyes now on my coach, who smiled at me. I smiled back at the taller man. "Yes?" I asked, as he didn't start speaking.

"You need to stop your training," the older man said, furrowing my brow. My head tilted to the side as I saw another girl behind him. She was taller and seemed to be a bit more muscular. Her face also seemed quite familiar. Especially when she politely smiled at me.

My eyes refocused on my coach. "Why?" I asked with a furrowed brow and visibly tense shoulders. "I've only done 150 shots," I added, pointing to the targets next to the gun. My coach glanced briefly at the targets and then at me, sighing softly.

He gestured to the woman behind him. "This is Minji, and she and her team will be filming here shortly," my coach said, causing my eyes to glance at Minji again. "So what? Let them," I replied with a disapproving shrug of my shoulders. Minji seemed to smirk at that.

"You need concentration during your training, and I need to explain and show everything to Minji here. That would only distract you. Plus, you shouldn't be caught on camera during your training," my coach explained, which annoyed me even more. My eyes fell on Minji once again before I sighed.

„How long will it take?" I asked, slightly more annoyed as I placed the used target on the stack. Minii's eyes followed me, but I simply looked at my coach, who then turned to Minii. "Well, I'm not quite sure. Maybe 1-2 hours?" she asked. "We've already shot some footage," she added shortly after, glancing at the clock on the wall.

"What exactly is a K-Pop idol doing at a shooting range?" I asked as I crossed my arms over my chest. Minji chuckled at that as she looked down at me. Her eyes gleamed with a certain curiosity. "I've always wanted to try it," she replied with a smirk, which took all my strength not to roll my eyes.

"So, you're disrupting my training for that?" I asked, but my coach immediately interrupted me. His hand on the back of my head as he gently tapped it. Outraged, I looked at him with my mouth open as I rubbed the back of my head. Minji laughed at that. "If only it were Hanni," I muttered quietly, causing Minji to stop laughing.

"Oh? A fan?" she asked, pointing her finger at me. I shook my head and shrugged. "Not really. But it's hard not to know about you when almost all of Korea promotes you," I replied, which made Minji laugh even louder. She nodded. "But why Hanni, then?" she asked, making me blush a little.

Minji's eyebrows shot up, and she nodded understandingly. She bit her lip for a moment but then turned her head as one of her managers said something to her. Unfortunately, I couldn't really hear it as a sudden tinnitus started in my ears. I sighed. "Alright. I'll go grab something to eat. I'll be back in 2 hours," I said as I took the stack in my hand and placed the gun back in its place. "But you start over," my coach said sternly, causing me to roll my eyes.

———————————————————————————

With the pistol in my hand, I stared at the target. My eyes narrowed as I tried to concentrate. "And then, out of nowhere, Haerin grabbed my hand. It startled me so much that I stumbled backward into Danielle, pushing her into Hyein. In the end, we almost landed on Hanni. She saw her life flash before her eyes. She didn't even scream and would've just died silently,"

I sighed, lowering the pistol. With narrowed eyes, I looked at Minji, who was sitting relaxed beside me, occasionally reaching into the small bag of chips and popping one into her mouth. "Do I look like I want to chat?" I asked, causing Minji to visibly hesitate.

"Am I bothering you?" she asked, sounding a bit sadder as she looked at me from her seated position. Her doe eyes softened, making me swallow. It looked pretty cute...

"No, not at all," I tried to say with a sarcastic tone, but Minji interrupted me with a broad grin on her face. "Okay, good. Anyway," she continued, which made me sigh again.

Anyway... that was also good training. It was never completely quiet at competitions...

I lifted the pistol once again and tried to focus on the target while Minii continued to chew my ear off. It was weird. Minji came to the shooting range every Monday at exactly the same time. She would shoot for a few minutes next to me, and I had to admit she was really good, but for the rest of the hours, she just sat there and talked to me. All I wanted was to train in peace.

"Hanni said you're cute."

Startled, with widened eyes, I turned my head at lightning speed to Minji, completely missing my target as I accidentally fired. With nervous hands, I placed the pistol on the desk in front of me and looked at the taller woman with obvious interest. She seemed to notice, starting to giggle.

"Oh? Do you still have a crush on Hanni?" she asked, popping another chip into her mouth. Then she held out the bag to me. "Want some?" she asked, but I shook my head. "I don't have a crush on her. It's more... I find her cute. Like a little sister," I replied, which made Minji hum loudly. Her eyes roamed over my entire face. "But she's the same age as me. Does that mean you see me as a sister too?" Minji asked, standing up from her seat, immediately towering over me.

My eyes narrowed instantly. "Why are you standing up? Are you trying to prove something?" I asked, rolling my eyes. Minji laughed. "Let's go get some food. I'm hungry," the younger one replied with just a smile. My eyes fell on the bag of chips and then to Minji.

„I Can't. I have to train," I sighed, but Minii just smiled even wider. "You don't have to. That was your thousandth shot. You're done," she said, surprising me. "Since when do you stalk me? Don't you have better things to do as an idol?" I asked, sighing, which only made Minji laugh. The taller one looked at me with a smile as she took my hand. She shook her head slightly, causing her long black hair to sway from left to right.

"What's better than a date with you?" she asked, making me stutter. My mouth slightly opened. "Date?" I asked, which made Minji laugh even louder. "Of course. A friends date," she replied with a grin, making me blush slightly. My head lowered slightly. Of course, she didn't mean a real date...

I'm an idiot...

"No thanks. I have to do 500 more today," I replied, causing Minii to sigh in disappointment. Her eyes roamed over my entire face as I got back into position and lifted the pistol.

———————————————————————————

My eyes focused on the people who were talking loudly and laughing. My mouth shifted to the side as I bit the inside of my cheek. I could hear Minji laughing loudly and then she glanced at me. Her smile disappeared from her face, and I immediately stared back at the target. Minji was doing it on purpose. She knew I always trained at this time of day...

"Um. Excuse me?" I heard someone say shyly. My eyes widened as I noticed Hanni next to me. She had a pistol in her hand and held it firmly with both hands. I politely smiled. "Yes?" I asked as I briefly glanced at the pistol in her hand and then into her eyes.

"Could you explain this to me?" she asked, which surprised me even more. My eyes wandered back to Minji, who was currently teaching Danielle how to shoot. Hyein was just shooting without proper stance. With a smile on my face, I nodded. I gestured for her to use the desk next to me.

Quickly and carefully, I explained the key points to the equally tall person. I observed every movement and kept a safe distance. When she hit one of the targets, she looked at me with big, happy eyes, which made me smile contentedly. But my eyes kept wandering back to Minji, who seemed to be busy with the others.

I sighed in annoyance. "I hit it," Haerin's voice rang out as she threw herself into Minji’s arms. My forehead creased at the sight, and my mouth twisted into a disgusted look, of course without me noticing. Minji looked at me, her eyebrows raised.

I saw Minji start to giggle and slowly let go of Haerin. With a very relaxed, almost too slow pace, she came over to me. But my arms crossed over my chest, which only made Minji laugh even more.

"What?!" I asked, probably sounding a bit annoyed, but Minli didn't seem to mind at all. Her eyes wide as she looked first at Hanni, who was focusing on shooting, and then at me. "So? How's it going with your crush?" she asked with a grin, which only made me furrow my brow even more.

"Not good."

"Why not?" Minji asked, a grin on her face, her hands on her hips as she looked down at me. Her eyes were expectant as they met mine. "It's none of your business," I replied, annoyed, turning my back to her slightly. Minji laughed as she now covered her mouth with her hand. Feeling offended that she was really laughing at me, I gently hit her arm.

"My crush isn't going well either," I heard Minji say, which immediately made me roll my eyes. "Did I ask?" I retorted, which made Minji huff. "She doesn't even care about me," Minji continued, which only made me angrier.

So I started to ignore her. "Her training is always more important than looking at me. She didn't even want to go eat with me," Minji said, emphasizing each word. My expression twisted. Unaware that the taller one was talking about me, Minji continued, "Even though I visit her every Monday and spend a few hours with her."

Slowly furrowing my brow, I looked up at the younger person. She smiled gently at me, nodding slightly with her head. "Yes, Y/n. I'm talking about you," the younger one said, shocking me visibly. My mouth opened as my arms uncrossed from my chest.

I looked at the taller woman for a while.

"You... you said it was a friends' date."

"That was a lie. I didn't know you liked me."

"Neither did I."

"What?"

My head lowered as I felt my cheeks blush. Embarrassed, I laughed, "I... I didn't know I liked you either," I replied, which made Minji laugh a bit. Her cheeks were also visibly flushed. I took a deep breath.

"Do you-"

„Do you-"

Surprised that we spoke simultaneously, we both paused. Laughing, I looked at the younger one. "Do you want to go get something to eat? As... a date?" I asked, which immediately made Minji nod. Her smile turning to a big gummy smile.

"Definitely."

[sugarushwriting]

“look what you made me do”

stalker jungwon part 2

adult content featured

yes there will be a part 3

you awoke with a startle after a nightmare. you sat up quickly on the bed that you were tucked into, the windows covered by thick curtains.

you looked around quietly, swallowing air, as you tried to remember what happened.

blood. chipper. maya.

shoot! when you removed the comforter from your legs and went to move off the bed and stand, you fell to the hardwood floor below.

“ouch!” you screamed in agony, tears coming to your eyes as you hugged your leg in pain.

you forgot all about the bear trap around your leg.

with a thud, jungwon came running up the stairs and threw the door open to the bedroom, a look of panic on his face.

he had originally been watching you through the nanny cam, but went outside to handle some business. he came back in and heard you cry out.

“hey, you’re okay!” he rushed to your side, helping you up gently, lying you back on the bed.

you sniffled, and your eyes went wide noticing the blood on his neck. “stay away from me, you, you freak!” you yelled, trying your best to scoot away.

jungwon wasn’t fazed nor was he mad. you were traumatized and he was slightly to be blamed for it. his smile faded to a thin line, eyes of worry focused on you.

all you could think of was poor maya in the wood chipper, asa and danielle hanging in the barn. if that was even still the case.

“what did you do to them?” you silently sniffled, trying to hold sobs.

jungwon bit is lower lip, “do you mean asa and danielle?”

you nodded slowly. jungwon hesitated to tell you. but he kept it simple with the truth. “they’re alive.”

you sucked in a breath. could you believe him? “how do i know you’re not lying?”

“i can show you.” he replied. you thought about it. could you stomach the way they looked? you barely could stay awake when the trap got you.

“why are you doing this?” you whispered so softly, he barely heard you.

jungwon went to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, it caught you off guard, you flinched. he slowly put his hand down with a frown.

“why the blanket? how did you get those pictures of me?” you continued. the blanket he covered you with before he snatched you.

pictures of you at work. in public. in your apartment. naked.

“you can guess how i got those pictures, squid.”

squid. why did that name—nickname—sound so familiar? jungwon noticed your body react to the nickname he gave you when you were close. before your accident and losing your memory.

“have you been stalking me? us.” jungwon nodded, unashamed. “why, jungwon? i—i understand how we treated you in high school was so bad—and i’m genuinely sorry for it—,”

“let’s not talk about that, right now.” jungwon cut you off immediately, his tone and mood changing.

“what did we do so bad that made you want to stalk and kill us?”

jungwon hurriedly stood up and started pacing. it really wasn’t you. or even asa. little less danielle. maya and kelly were originally his main targets.

“you three never knew the torture i went through with maya and kelly.” jungwon says, running a hand through his hair. “it wasn’t just the teasing from all of you. kelly and maya deserved what they got. to be honest, they got off easy in my opinion.”

“jungwon, what did they do to you?”

“not now squid.”

“why do you call me squid?”

“it doesn’t sound familiar? like at all?” jungwon stopped pacing to look at you with hope in his eyes.

you shrugged. “it triggered something through me, but no, not really.”

“are you hungry? i can make you food.” jungwon changed the subject. before you could decline that you weren’t hungry, your stomach betrayed you and rumbled.

“oh, um, sure.” you nodded, unsure how you’d even be able to get up at this point. you could barely stand up on your own, let alone run away from this psycho.

“i’ll bring you breakfast in bed. you need to rest that leg. when i got you, the trap was pretty deep and the wounds don’t look good under the bandages.”

jungwon walked towards the bedroom door, and you noticed a dog sitting there waiting for him. you smiled unknowing at the dog, just happy to see something alive other than jungwon.

your thoughts were clouded from the night beforehand. he really killed maya. was he going to kill danielle and asa next? what about you? you had to stay alive. you were going to fight to stay alive so you could get help.

what did maya and kelly do so bad to fuck jungwon up like this?

footsteps padded against the hardwood, jungwon coming in with a plate of breakfast. your favorite breakfast.

he placed it in front of you slowly, you picked up the fork and slowly took a bite, moaning in relief at how good it tasted.

jungwon swallowed, his adams apple bobbing up and down at hearing you moan.

no. he wasn’t going to that to you. with you. not now. the pictures and videos he had were enough to help him rub one out when needed.

“uh, jungwon, this is really good. thank you.” you politely replied with a nod.

jungwon took a seat at the edge of the bed and stared at you while you ate. “do you really not get any type of memory from the nickname squid?”

you shook your head at him. “enlighten me.”

“i don’t want to freak you out.”

you snorted. “you stalked and kidnapped me and and my friends. killed one of my friends in front of me, jungwon.”

jungwon laughed softly. “guess you have a point.”

“just tell me why do you call me squid?”

“because when we were younger you got inked on by one, and ever since then you never liked them.”

“younger?”

jungwon sighed, “that’s enough trip down memory lane for now. finish eating.”

“will you take me to go see asa and danielle?”

“only if you promise not to throw up.”

about an hour later you had finished eating, and was prepared to go out. jungwon helped you walk down the steps, outside. you went slowly, but jungwon seem to not mind.

when you got to the barn, your heart sank in pure anxiety of what you may see in front of you.

jungwon, face plain of any emotion, opened the barn door and helped you hobble in there.

thankfully asa and danielle were no longer dangling from the ceiling chains, but rather seated in hay and chained to poles beside them.

both were left in the undergarments, and you knew they had to be cold. they hadn’t moved when you two came in.

“i gave them something to help them sleep. rest.” jungwon stated. “they’ll need their energy.”

“why?” you whispered out.

“it’s hunting season.”

you turned to look at jungwon with pure disgust. “please, jungwon, just let them go.”

jungwon’s lips went in a thin line as he stared at you. “why should i?”

“maya and kelly were your main targets, okay? the rest of us learned our lesson. just please let them be.”

“i’ll have to ask my coworkers.”

“coworkers?”

jungwon nodded. “ni-ki and kai. need to make sure they’re okay with it too.”

“it was all three of you?”

“mainly me, but they helped.” jungwon stated.

you looked at him in disbelief. “i’ll do anything if you just let them go. please.” you begged.

“i’ll think about it.” jungwon said before turning around walking back to the house. he left you to hobble behind him slowly, your leg still in pain from the trap.

you got to the porch steps, jungwon held the door open for you. “actually fuck this!” you snapped. “tell me right fucking now why you are doing this!”

jungwon laughed. “or what?”

you looked around the yard, and saw a big rock. you leaned down carefully to pick it up.

“what? you’re gonna throw it at me? try to kill me with it?” he taunted.

“no. i’ll bash my own head in!” you yelled, ready to drop the rock on your head as you held it above.

jungwon ran as fast as he could down the steps and tackled you to the ground, making the rock fall out of your hands.

little did he know, there was another big rock behind you. so when you fell, your head landed on the rock, instantly knocking you unconscious.

“no, no, no! wake up!” jungwon pleaded, trying to shake you awake. blood covered his hands from the back of your head. “no, you can’t do this. i can’t lose you again.”

he cried holding you close. jungwon quickly picked you up and ran to his truck, putting you in to drive you to the emergency room.

while the doctors worked on you, he had texted ni-ki and kai who were actually visiting in town, and asked them to clean up the barn mess. no other text was sent or explanation needed.

he couldn’t say too much and incriminate himself or them. they texted back with a simple ‘ok’ and ‘no problem.’

“mr yang?” jungwon stood up when the nurse called his name.

she smiled. “your wife is doing great. a little drowsy and confused, but she’s awake and alert, and the doctor is with her. follow me.”

you two weren’t married. but they didn’t need to know that. they didn’t ask for a marriage license or proof. jungwon just knew he had to be the one only to know about your condition.

he walked into the hospital room you were in, the doctor finishing flashing the light in your eye. your eyes went wide seeing jungwon, but you stayed silent, fear in your eyes and body.

“hello mr. yang.” the doctor greeted. “mrs yang, your husband has been so worried about you!”

the doctor and other medical staff left the room, leaving you and jungwon.

“wi—wife?” you stumbled out.

“you say anything else, and i will make sure you never see outside again.” jungwon threatened.

you hung your head in silence, twiddling your thumbs, afraid to say anything further.

jungwon spoke, “they said you hit your head pretty hard but you should be okay. you’ll be here for a while as they keep an eye on you. and i’ll be right by your side.”

you kept silent. you got comfortable in the hospital bed, pulling the blanket up to your chin, your back facing jungwon.

this seemed to be a nightmare that would never end.

[yeoosaangg]

៹ TAP OUT || KINKTOBER ─ DAY 11

➛ PAIRING:: YANG JEONGIN × FEM!READER

➛ NOW PLAYING:: TAP OUT — DANIEL DI ANGELO

⤷ ❝GIRL, I'M GONNA BEAT THAT PUSSY 'TIL YOU BLACKOUT.❞

➛ GENRE:: BROTHER'S!BESTFRIEND, COLLEGE!AU, SMUT

➛ WARNINGS:: SENSORY DEPRIVATION, BREEDING KINK, CHOKING, DEGRADATION, MULTIPLE ORGASMS, NIPPLE PLAY, OVERSTIMULATION, TONGUE FUCKING

── ⋆ ⋆ ── 𔘓 ── ⋆ ⋆ ──

You whine as the rope tightens around your wrists. You were currently bound to a table in your brother's best friend's apartment.

Well, more accurately, bound to his kitchen table.

It started as a joke.

You never expected him to reciprocate your little crush.

Jeongin: Look at you. So helpless with that gag in your mouth.

You initiated the flirting once again when he offered to help you study for your final exams.

Your hands grazed his, leg pressed against him, even hands gently gripping his thighs.

You never expected him to grab you by the neck and kiss you so dominantly and literally take your breath away.

He shoved his hand down your pants and started to play with your pussy until you creamed all over his fingers.

Then he picked you up and placed you on the table, stripping you of your clothes. He asked you if you're open to anything, and you nodded.

Big mistake.

He came back from his room with a box - a wicked smile on his face.

Jeongin: Lay on your back.

You comply, rubbing your thighs together to get some sort of friction. That proved to be useless when he spread your legs open and tied your feet to the legs of the table.

Which brings you to now, gag in your mouth, clips clamping down on your nipples, a blindfold in his hands.

Jeongin: Think you can just flirt with me, get me hard, and get away with it? What would Hyunjin think about his little sister pining after me like a bitch in heat, hm?

You whine again, wanting him to touch you already. You need him to touch you or else you'll go insane.

And for a second, his eyes turn soft as he looks up and down your body.

Jeongin: Think you'll be okay without being able to see?

You nod. He smiles and wraps the blindfold gently around you eyes.

Jeongin: Will it be too much if I take away your hearing? We don't have to do that if it sounds uncomfortable.

You hum, the gag making it difficult for you to speak. You nod, hoping he understands what you mean by the gesture.

Jeongin: You're okay with it, or uncomfortable?

You hold up one finger and he chuckles.

Jeongin: Alright, doll. After I put these in, I'll take good care of you. Snap your fingers twice to let me know if you need me to stop. If you can't snap, pull at the rope twice.

You nod again, feeling him place the earplugs in. You gasp at his small touch. Now that you can't hear, your touch senses have heightened times ten.

You twitch when his hot tongue laps over your folds. You can feel him chuckle against your clit.

Jeongin draws fast circles, sucking harshly to get you to attempt to scream. He shoves his tongue into your dripping cunt, loving the way you squirm under him.

It feels so intense, a knot already forming in your lower stomach. You whimper and moan, struggling against your restraints.

He smirks, tongue flicking your clit as he shoves two fingers into your gummy walls. The gag does nothing to muffle your screams as you cream all over his face and fingers.

Jeongin: So pretty and delicious. Too bad you can't hear me. Oh well!

He tugs at the nipple clips, marveling at the way your body shudders. His hands roam your body, hickeys being decorated all over your neck and chest.

Jeongin: Should've fucked you the first time you flirted with me. I probably would've turned you into my pliant little whore by now.

He pulls the clips off, eliciting a scream from you. His mouth wraps around your nipples so forcefully, his hands squeezing them.

Jeongin: Can't believe he wanted me to stay away from you. Is it so wrong to have you when you were the one following me around like a lovesick puppy?

He knows you can't hear him; that why he's being so vocal. He could say whatever the fuck he wants and you'll never know what it is.

You moan at the painful bite he gives your breasts.

Jeongin: Fuck what Hyunjin thinks. You're mine now. He'll have to accept the fact that you're not a little girl anymore. You're only a year younger than me, fucker acts like I'm 80.

He snakes an arm around you, hand smacking down on one of your ass cheeks. He laughs at your cry, moaning at the sight of your already spent face.

Jeongin: Aww, poor baby. I haven't even fucked you yet.

He lightly drums his fingers on your abdomen before discarding his own clothes. He pumps his leaking cock, climbing onto the table.

He positions himself in front of you, cock sliding in at once. You scream once he bottoms out, staying still at your heavy breathing.

His mouth attaches to your nipples again, thrusting at a brutal pace. The sounds you're making only feeding his ego.

Jeongin: You're doing so well, my pet. Taking my fucking cock like the good bitch you are. I'm going to break you, forge you into my perfect fuckdoll.

You're crying in pleasure, loving the way his cock stretches your tight cunt. You've been wanting him for months.

He knows, without a doubt, that you're going to be his for the rest of your life.

Jeongin: God, you're so good for me. My little cockslut.

You scream, feeling another orgasm building. He grabs your waist and uses you however he likes. The way his tip hits your cervix has you seeing stars.

He feels you squirt all over him, making such a hot and sticky mess. He fucking loves it.

Jeongin: Be a good girl and take my fucking cock. I'm gonna breed you so the whole world knows you're mine. I bet if you could hear me, you'd be begging for me to fill your cunt with my cum.

He uses his thumb to rub your clit, but you're already so exhausted. You lay still, choking on air as he coats your gummy walls with his cum.

You thought that was the end of it, but he continues to abuse your hole. His hips snapping against your ass, loving how he's reduced you to nothing but his personal fucktoy.

Just like how he wanted.

Jeongin: Such a pretty little thing, letting me use you like you mean nothing to me. Letting me ruin any innocence you had left.

He wraps his hand around your throat, squeezing lightly. This was mostly to ground him in the moment. He doesn't want to get too pussy drunk at the thought of corrupting you.

Jeongin: You don't know this, but I've been wanting to fuck you ever since Hyunjin first introduced us. He told me not to even think about it, that asshole.

He growls, kissing your mouth hungrily and biting your lips.

Jeongin: Why has he deprived me of your body, hm? Is it because he knows just how much of an asshole I am? How many girls I've fucked and dropped the next night?

You whimper, feeling so tired but so good.

Everything feels fuzzy, another knot of pressure building inside of you.

Jeongin: Too bad for him because it's not like that with you, sweetheart. You look gorgeous when you're at my mercy. Why would I jeopardize that for some other bitch that can't even suck my cock properly?

His thrusts become sloppy, once again cumming inside your numb pussy. You probably came too, but you couldn't tell anymore.

Everything seemed to feel like a dream.

Jeongin pulls his cock out, watching both of your fluids leak from your cunt, dripping down to your ass and onto the table.

He hums, grabbing a towel and cleaning both of you up. The fabric making you twitch, not used to how powerful the overstimulation can feel this way.

He undoes the ropes, pulling off your blindfold. He smiles down at you, giving you warm kisses as he takes out the earplugs.

Jeongin: You okay, beautiful?

You just stare at him, mind completely blank. He carefully wraps his arms around you and carries you to his bathroom.

You blink slowly, feeling like the world was spinning.

He picks you up, getting into the tub and sitting you on his lap. He massages your body, kissing your wrists when you hiss in pain.

Jeongin: I'm sorry, baby. I'll patch these up for you. The pain will go away soon.

You just lean back against his chest, enjoying his soft and intimate touches.

Jeongin: We'll just sit here for a bit, okay? The warm water will help soothe your muscles.

That was totally fine by you.

But you two forgot about one thing: your brother has your location on at all times.

═══

a/n: well... this is definitely a look into my fucked up mind, but this ain't shit compared to the vile things i've written before... thank you for reading ‹𝟹

[eddie-spagheddie]

In Another Life (Armand and Daniel)

Hey, I really don't post stuff, but I really wanted to share this with the fandom. This is a different take on their relationship and their characters. I plan on it being a series, so be patient as it does bounce between the past and present. I really hope you enjoy!

Age Limit: 18+

Warnings: drug use, verbal abuse, drinking, a broken relationship

Daniel first saw them across the dance floor at Polynesian Mary’s. It was a usual night, people coming to shed their day-skin as they danced away with faceless strangers blurred out by endless amounts of cocaine. At least that was his experience, it’s why he was here. 

He cradled a drink in his hand, slipping lower in his booth, an attempt to not be noticed by the two who stole the room. They were beautiful, a still shot in an ocean of people who just glanced at their existence, but that wasn’t the case for Daniel. Something drew him in, held him there, wanting more. 

Armand was standing like a statue made of grief, eyes trailing Louis’ whereabouts as he weaved between bodies with an effortless grace. He was a predator scanning, lips pressed tight to suppress his hunger. And even through the pulse of music, dancing lights, scattered conversations, Daniel felt that there was something fractured and broken between them. 

It wasn’t long before Daniel understood the dynamic of the two. He was a journalist, his job was to notice the little intricacies of what made people human, the minute details that separated one person from the next. 

Louis, who’s entire being was carved from beauty and sorrow, wasn’t there in the crowd. Mentally he was elsewhere—decades away, shackled by the ghost of a man he once loved…still loved. It appeared through every night, every conversation, every invitation to another man, Louis dragged his former lover between him and Armand like a ghost he refused to bury. 

Daniel had seen Louis cry once. He had a habit of bringing Daniel around most nights, stuffing him full of an arsenal of drugs only so he could show his true being without fear. He provided tape after tape while Daniel asked mindless questions: some dangerous, some meaningful, and some that brought out the deepest darkest parts of Louis’ being. 

That night in particular, Daniel had asked the burning question. The only one that burrowed in his head after each meeting, one he was scared to ask. 

“Where is Lestat now?” The journalist asked after another line of cocaine, wiping his nose with a sniff. It was the same routine every night: sniff, question, sniff, question. Until all of it bled together into a blur of hazy nonsense. 

“He left me,” Louis spat, words of venom. Something he had repeated over and over again to anyone who would listen, like the outcome would change if he spoke them enough. His eyes were elsewhere, seeing the reflection of his maker in Daniel’s face, seeing Lestat before him. “He made me. Loved me. And then he left me.” 

Armand had always stayed silent, reserved, like a shadow haunting the room. His expression was hardened, unreadable, but Daniel always caught the faint flicker in his eye. An emotion he understood all too well. After many failed attempts to salvage his relationship and a few you will never be him’s, he had grown used to it. 

There was something different about Armand, hollow, resigned. The man had heard it many times before, thousands of times, a name that rattled his brain and painted itself in his dreams. Yet he stayed.

He always stayed. 

It was Daniel’s realization of their dynamic. The love between them had long faded, a facade to the naked eye. The perfect picture of true companionship, but behind the curtain it was grief held together by its silently weeping partner. 

Overwhelming feelings washed over Louis, the kind that he couldn’t refrain himself from. Not when he was like this, trapped in the memories of what once was. “You. You. You…you think you love me. You’re nothing but a placeholder, a band aid for a wreckage that your fragile little mind couldn’t even begin to understand.” He stood up, made his way over to his partner, picking another drug riddled argument. “Can you even begin to comprehend what true love is?” 

A stab. Armand was now accustomed to, armor hardened over the years. He didn’t blink, didn’t move. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, cold. 

“I do.” He said. “It’s cleaning up after you night after night. It’s listening to you mourn over a man who destroyed you. It’s standing right here, as I am, when I should have left you decades ago.” 

The grief-stricken vampire choked out a laugh, bitter and sharp. He pressed his forehead against the wall, slamming his fists against it until blood dripped from his knuckles. He laughed again, shoulders trembling, and Daniel wasn’t sure it was a laugh he heard or a violent sob. They had morphed into one. 

A few nights had passed since that encounter. The scene taking place in his mind over and over again. Louis’ unhealed broken heart, and Armand grasping at straws within himself to still love Louis through it.

Something twisted in his stomach over it, his childhood spent watching a broken marriage that never uttered the word divorce. 

He found himself back at the same club, same booth, same drink in his hands. Flipping through the pages of his notebook, deciphering the nervous scribbles between the lines, he didn’t notice another body sliding into the seat across from him. Dark curls covered sunset eyes, a tightened jaw, the vampire before him appearing more human than monster. 

“I hope you don’t mind the intrusion.” Armand spoke, motioning for the bartender to come over. 

Daniel shook his head, promptly closing his notebook. “Not at all.” 

The vampire had ordered them both a drink, sliding his card across the table without a second glance. They sat in silence for a moment, watching herds of people push through the doors. 

Ask away, Daniel. I am a book open before you. 

Armands voice echoed in his head, startling him from what he was staring at. He cleared his throat, letting out a loose breath. 

“Does it hurt?” The journalist asked softly. 

The vampire swirled his finger around the rim of his glass, eyes desperately searching for the words to articulate the depths of his feelings. 

“Loving him,” he started, “is like drowning in a sea that will never love you back. You are miles from any shore, and yet, you still swim. What else is there to do?”

“Couldn’t you leave?” Daniel asked foolishly, causing Armand’s gaze to shift from the glass to him. 

“The loneliness that a vampire feels is incomprehensible to a mortal. You spend decades, centuries even, searching for a companion. Someone to share the weight of your immortal existence. It is rare to find, you could make it, but even then you aren’t promised your desire.” He let out a laugh. “You’ve seen it firsthand, the effects of abandonment on top of loneliness.” 

“So, you stay with a man who doesn’t value you?”

“I suppose you view me as a battered housewife. To put it kindly, I would live in this repetitive existence of my companion losing grip of his reality day to day over another lifetime spent alone.” Armand sipped his drink, staring off into the distance. “Vampires are birthed from trauma, and sometimes that trauma sticks with us.” His ancient eyes now heavy with an ache Daniel couldn’t begin to imagine. 

Daniel couldn’t look away, saw a glimpse of the fragility of a vampire. Humanity hidden deeper than the ageless veneer. 

And with the weeks that followed, Daniel had become part of the nightly routine. They’d come to Polynesian Mary’s, scope out a potential victim, drag Daniel along, and Louis would tell more of his story. Meshing details until it all became a catastrophic mess. Sinking deeper into his grief, taking it out on Armand.

Rinse. Repeat. 

He watched the unraveling of Louis, how he was locked away in an endless war with a ghost. And how he was caught between the two immortals, understanding that: some loves were graves you never climbed out of. And some heartbreaks were so vast, they needed two people to carry the weight. 

Through the pattern, he grew closer to Armand. Whispered confessions through stolen glances when Louis wasn’t looking. Armand’s hand brushing his from across the table.

He felt a pull to the vampire, something taboo. Something guarded by a ferocious beast. 

And yet, every moment spent with Armand, something shifted in him, a small crack of sunlight bleeding into his endless night. But that’s all it would ever be. 

Because Louis would always cry for Lestat.

Armand would always stay. 

And Daniel would remain trapped between the both. Learning what it meant to love someone who was already buried alive. 

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒.

DAY SEVEN OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

prompt: cosmic horror au + western au + "you're a fucking nightmare. kiss me."

pairing: jack daniels x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, soft enemies to lovers

summary: with celestial dancers ensnaring victims with entrancing performances that lead innocents away from their homes. Jack and you, cowboy sheriffs with a history of discord, leave town in search of the missing people.

word count: 3.5k

warnings: daddy kink, mirror sex (kinda there's a mist that imitates your desires and copies your movements so technically it's like a mirror but without a reflective surface), outdoor sex, piv, hint of horror imagery, dirty talk, size kink (jack is a big boy in every universe fight me)

a/n: sorry y'all this is unedited but hopefully i didn't make too many mistakes! enjoy xx

“I still don’t understand why we need to go together. I’m completely capable on my own.” 

On cue, Starlight whinnies and shakes her head, her disagreement apparent. You frown at the horse, “You’re supposed to be on my side,” you quip, refusing to look at Jack whose laughter rings out. 

The lanterns you have on each horse illuminate the road ahead but do little in actually illuminating your surroundings. Shadows linger in every corner. The sky, despite still having the sun up, is a dusty copper, dark clouds swirling and forming shape of all watching eyes. The world had become an odd place. Humans were mere ants now, easy to crush beneath the forces out of your control. Distance between towns had become wide, each town having deputies to protect the innocents within. Dangerous weapons had been forged to fight against the evil and given to every sherrif in town. 

Lately people have been gone missing. In the dead of night celestial dancers would just stand at the edge of town, ensnaring victims with entrancing performances to take them far away from their homes. You didn’t ask what these dancers did to the ones they captured, you assumed it wasn’t anything pleasant. 

You and Jack being the more talented sheriffs of the town had been picked to locate said missing people. The further you two traversed away from town, the more menacing and confusing the world around you became. The darkness moves. Creatures of all kinds snarling and drooling within the deep forests. 

“I know you’re capable, sugar,” Jack remarks, he expertly guides his horse, bringing the two of you into closer proximity. The rhythmic sound of hooves fills the air as you draw near. “But you must admit, this is a dangerous job.” 

You only shrug, “Beats being here with you.” 

“You hate me that much that you’d be willin’ to die?” he says with a lazy grin. “That’s a bit extreme, even for you.” 

“I doubt this is going to be that hard. You just like teasing me.” 

“Hmmm maybe. . . but I blame you for that, sugar. You’re too fun to tease.” 

A loud sigh parts your lips and you shake your head. Jack was and always will be insufferable. In all honesty, Jack wasn’t so bad. He just had a talent for getting under your skin. But you had to admit, your frustrations with him had been shifting into something else, something like desire, for a while now. 

Your fingers tighten around the reins. You’ve been trying really hard to ignore the flutter in your stomach whenever he was around, you’d never hear the end of it if he figured it out. 

“Shut up,” you grumble, lowering the front of your hat. “You’re incorrigible.” You glance over at Jack, who's trying to stifle his laughter but failing miserably. Your frown deepens. 

“Incorrigible?” he snorts. “So sophisticated with your insults today, should I be flattered?” 

“I’m just running out of words to insult you with.” 

His smile falters slightly, annoyance creasing between his brows, “Funny.” 

Jack’s annoyance brings a smile to your face. You’re about to say more, eager to get under his skin just like he does yours, but suddenly he lifts a hand and halts his horse. You do the same, tightening the reins until Starlight comes to a full stop. 

He presses his forefinger slowly to his lips and points ahead with the other. Goosebumps raising across your skin, your gaze turns to the dirt road. 

There’s nothing. 

Until there’s something. 

The first thing you notice is the eyes; they’re red dots, gleaming and staring into your soul. 

Then you notice the antlers sprouting from behind the skull of the long figure. Two of them curling around its jaw. It's wearing a long cloak, the type similar to what you and Jack wear when the weather is turning cold. The light of your lanterns reflects on the figure, 

Panic flaring in your gut, your eyes snap to Jack. He’s only staring. Calm and steady. “Look down,” he mouths without looking at you. 

The silence is deafening. You look at the eerie figure again, its hand now stretched towards you both as if beckoning you to come closer. It’s a bony hand, a sickly grayish-green. You hold your breath and lower your gaze. Your lids flutter in surprise as you notice the sheep at the figure's feet. They have horns just like him, and have the same glowing red eyes. The animals stare at you, not a sound coming from them. 

Shepard of the Voidborne, your mind whispers to you. You were told that he was once human and after being driven out of his mind, became one of the cosmic horrors that lurked all around. He had his sheep and that was pretty much it. He only came out during the night. The shepard was harmless for the most part but if you made a sound or attacked, your death was immediate. 

The tricky part was that you had to sense him before he came. You had to catch the stillness of the wind, the sudden silence that befell, and the scent of the dead. 

You didn’t notice any of that. 

But Jack had. 

The Shepard and his sheep stare at you long enough that it feels like forever. He never lowers his hand, the invite always there if you were stupid enough to take it. 

You fight against letting out a breath of relief when he finally turns away, the sheep mimicking him. Fear coating your tongue, you close your eyes and focus on your heartbeat instead, willing it to become silent. 

He doesn’t make a sound as he leaves and you only realize that when Jack gently touches your cheek, pulling you back to reality. 

“He’s gone, darlin’,” he says surprisingly soft. “You’re safe.” 

His fingers curl towards the back of your ear, palm cradling the side of your face, warmth spreads. Your breath hitches and you quickly avert your gaze, “I see that,” you say sharply. “Let’s go.” 

“Lead the way, ma’am,” Jack muses as you do exactly that, his gaze glinting with mischief. 

You try not to think about the lingering warmth left on your cheek. 

The horses are tethered nearby, and the lanterns cast a warm glow around your small circle of safety. You set up a modest fire, its crackling flames pushing back the encroaching darkness.

Jack produces a bottle of whiskey from his saddlebag. He uncorks it and offers it to you with a grin. "Care for a drink, sugar? I figure we've earned."

You accept the offer, taking the bottle and taking a long, deep swig before passing it back. The warm burn of the whiskey helps chase away the lingering chill of fear from your encounter with the Shepard.

Jack settles down beside you, close enough that your shoulders brush. He gazes into the flames, lost in thought for a moment. Then, he turns his attention to you, his eyes softening with concern. "You okay, sugar?"

“I guess,” you mutter. “I didn’t notice him.” 

“Who? The Shepard?” 

You nod and he shrugs, “He’s a hard bastard to notice. It ain’t your fault.” 

“That’s not an excuse. I should’ve sensed him. . . somehow.” 

He chuckles softly, his fingers idly tracing patterns in the dirt. "Well, you know, I've got the devil's luck. Besides, I've got you to watch my back. When I’m with you I’m more alert, darlin’."

“So you really do think I’m incompetent?” 

Sitting by the fire, you both share the bottle, taking turns. You can't help but notice how the flickering firelight plays across Jack's features, casting his rugged face in a warm, inviting glow. You feel slightly ashamed for how you’re acting. Deep down you know this has nothing to do with Jack thinking you’re not good enough, but with the growing knot in your stomach, you need to divert your emotions into something more violent. 

“The only thing I know is that I wanna protect you more than I want to do myself.” 

Your heart skips a beat, your breath suddenly coming in short and fast. You swallow around the knot quickly forming in your throat. 

"Well, aren't you just a regular knight in shining armor?" you huff in mock annoyance, attempting to lighten the weight of his words. 

But Jack doesn't take the bait this time. Instead, he surprises you with a genuine, soft smile. "You're strong, no doubt about it. But even the strongest folks deserve a bit of pampering now and then, don't they?"

You're momentarily taken aback by his sincerity, the hint of vulnerability. Jack reaches out and gently brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch feather-light.

"Jack, you don't have to treat me like I'm made of glass," you murmur, your irritation fading as you meet his warm gaze.

He leans in a little closer, his voice barely above a whisper. Your eyes drop to his lips and move back to meet his gaze again."I know you're tough as nails, but that doesn't mean I can't be here for you. We all need someone to lean on, sugar."

You find yourself lost in his eyes, the flickering firelight dancing in them, and for a moment, you let your guard down.

"You're a fucking nightmare,” you smile, heart rapid in your chest. “Kiss me."

The chaos, the darkness, the shadows—all of it stands still. Jack closes the distance, soft lips covering yours, his tongue traces the seam of your lips. He’s not at all how you imagined. He’s not rushing you. Instead, he’s taking his sweet time memorizing the curve of your lips with the tip of his tongue. 

Only when you moan does he slip his tongue between your swollen lips, licking himself further into your mouth. He cradles your face with both hands, thumbs moving down as if tracing tear streaks down your cheeks. 

Neither of you notices the thick fog starting to accumulate around you. A sinister whisper crackling within the gray. It settles around you. Listening to your needy whimpers and Jack’s groans—it observes, takes in the desire reflected in your features, and shapes begin to form. 

The fire goes out with a loud sizzle. 

“Fuck—” Jack hisses, pulling away, hand moving to grab his gun. He pulls you close. You’re still tasting him on your lips, dazed and confused as to what’s happening. There’s a moment of silence between you two, your surroundings illuminated only by the lanterns. 

The fog is unnaturally thick. You hear sounds; breathy and intoxicating. The voices grow louder, a tingle spreads over the back of your neck, and you notice that they’re oddly familiar—

Your cheeks burn when you notice they’re the sound of your moans. Both Jack’s and yours. The shapes are still forming, only mere silhouettes of two people perched on top of a log, their poses the same as yours.  

“Eidolon Veil,” you mumble, drawing Jack’s attention to you. “I heard of it, never actually saw it before.” 

“What is it?” he grunts a response, hand still on your waist. “And why the hell is it moanin’?” 

“It’s harmless,” you answer. “It’s a reflective fog that takes the shape of those within its circle and mimics their desires as well.” 

Jack snorts, lowering his gun, “So what, you’re tellin’ me this mist is gonna show us fuckin’ like rabbits soon?” 

You turn to him, a hint of mischief in your eyes, “If that’s what you desire, then yes,” you grin. “Though the image becomes vivid only if the people actually go through with it. If not it’ll only show a preview and move on to its next target,” you raise an eyebrow at him. “You really don’t know what it is?” 

“I don’t research the creepy crawlies as much as you do,” he croaks. “Are you sure it’s harmless? In this world nothin’ is.” 

“I think it has to do with substance,” you say. “Desire keeps it from dissolving entirely. So it’s basically looking for food.” 

An especially sharp moan echoes from the mist and you involuntarily press your thighs together, arousal growing between your legs. Jack also shudders at the sound. He palms himself through his pants, your eyes dropping to where his cock strains against the thick fabric.

“Let's give it something to choke on then.” 

Throwing all caution into the wind, you two strip down eagerly, your mouths always a breath away. The figures within the fog become more tangible, you can see yourself clearly now, your face painted with want and arousal. You get on all fours and the mirage does the same, Jack is on his knees right behind you, hand slipping between your legs. He traces his fingers up and down soaked folds, circling your clit, you feel the heft of him over the curve of your ass. 

Your breath hitches as he pushes two fingers into you, electricity crackles over your skin, a moan parting your lips further. The mirage mimics every sound and movement, and watching it turns you on in a way you didn’t think was possible. 

“Fuck, look at you,” Jack coos. “Such a sight—and so darn wet.” 

He fucks his fingers deeper into you and pulls them out slowly. Jack leans over to kiss the skin between your shoulder blades, the movement of his fingers slow as he works you open. Your head falls and you arch your back, wanting more. He doesn’t stop until you’re a sopping, trembling mess. Slick drips down his fingers and all the way down to his wrists. 

When you look at the mirage, the Jack within the fog makes you taste yourself on his fingers. 

Your Jack hums pleasantly, pulling out, he traces the plush of your lips with wet fingers before slipping them into your mouth. You suck eagerly, your cunt fluttering at the lewdness of it. 

He cups your neck and pulls you up so that you’re flush against his chest, your pulse quickens as he presses his lips against your ear, “You think you can take me, darlin’?” he asks and kisses your cheek. 

“Y–Yeah,” you whimper, the fog echoing your answer. 

You haven’t gotten a good look at him yet but you do feel him. He’s thick and hard, dragging his cock up and down your slit. You shudder as the head catches against your clit, making you gasp. “You’re drippin’ sweetheart,” he says with a grin, breath tickling your neck. “And you’re shakin’, worried I’m too big?” 

His voice drips with sarcasm and glee, he teases your entrance with the head, smearing precome over the sensitive skin. You gasp and feel your nipples tighten, without thinking you spread your legs further. 

“Yes!” your mirage echoes your thoughts. You let out a deep exhale, blood rushing to your cheeks. “You’re so big, Jack—It won’t fit. . .” 

“Is that right now?” he murmurs, dragging the curve of his nose down your neck. “You say it. I want to hear your voice.” 

You clear your throat. Beads of sweat gather at your tailbone, “Y–You’re big,” you whimper and as a reward he cups both your breasts, playing with your nipples.  “I don’t know if it’ll fit. It’s been a while.” 

He takes a sharp inhale, “I’ll make it fit,” he growls, exhaling his breath simultaneously. 

With that, Jack sinks into you. 

He sucks on your neck and continues to gently pinch your nipples, waiting for your to adjust to his size. “That’s it,” he purrs, licking the salt from your skin. “You feel so good around me, sugar. Look at how fucked out you look already.” 

He holds your jaw and tilts your head up, you clench as you see yourself. He was right. You look utterly fucked out; kiss-swollen lips parted, chest heaving and glistening with sweat. 

“Jack,” you whimper. “Move, please.” 

“Okay, sweetheart,” he soothes you, lips pressing against your neck before letting you go. Your palms fall to the ground. “You’re made for me, pretty girl, don’t you forget it.” 

Before you can say anything, he pulls back his hips and slams into you with force. Your fingers dig into the soil, your body going rigid before becoming loose again. Jack fucks you thoroughly, slowing down while pulling out only to snap forward. He’s loud. Growls and grunts bouncing off of his clenched teeth, he holds on to your waist and the mirage echoes it. 

With every thrust, he knocks the air from your lungs. Pleasure swirls in your stomach, shirt circuits your brain. Your lips part wide with a series of moans, your breasts tingling. Your senses narrow on the way his cock fills you, how deep he is inside, and how you just want to scream—not his name necessarily, but something you can address him as. 

With both your and your mirage's moans getting louder and louder, your mind whirls. You’re gushing with every thrust, your orgasm rapidly building. 

Daddy, your mind suddenly shouts. Your body tenses, your cunt squeezing around him in away that it forces the slows of his thrust. Jack groans at the overwhelming tightness, his cock pulsing. You watch the mirrored reflection, see the veins popping in his neck, see the debauched look of his face. 

Daddy. 

“F-Fuck—” you rasp when Jack resumes his thrust, faster and harder than before. He smacks your ass, pain blossoming over the skin. 

Then suddenly you hear it. 

It’s your voice but not your lips that moves. 

“Again—Daddy—” the voice is strained, as if your replica is equally as embarrassed as you are. 

He stops and you see his confusion in the fog. “W-What?” he murmurs. You shake your head, your frustration growing as you press your lips tight together. Jack smoothes his palm over your back. “What did you just call me, sugar?” 

You clear your throat, “Technically it wasn’t me,” you say weakly. Jack smiles as he drags blunt nails down your skin, your body reacts and arches towards him. You sigh. “It was a mistake.” 

“Not it wasn’t,” he quips. “You said so remember? The thing about the veil mimicking our desires?” he doesn’t wait for your answer as he bends over, covering your body with his. He whispers, “You can call me, daddy, if you want to. I don’t mind, darlin’. In fact, I like it.” 

You nod and he slowly drags himself out, and equally slowly pushes back in, “Use your words.” 

“Yes, d-daddy,” you gasp, the word hits your tongue just right. 

Jack draws back again, satisfaction pooling in his eyes. He grins and a part of you can’t help but feel flustered. “That’s what I want to hear,” he kisses the back of your shoulder and continue to move inside of you. 

The sensation of his thick cock sliding in and out of you sends shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. You moan in pleasure as your orgasm builds with each thrust. He grips your hips, thrusting harder and faster as your orgasm nears its peak. You can barely keep your balance as the waves of pleasure wash over you in a glorious chorus of bliss.

“Oh—daddy—” you sigh, your tongue loose. The fog picks up your moan, echoing your words. You bite your lip as his hands move from your hips to your chest, massaging your breast with each thrust. 

“Look at that face,” he says with a moan, forcing your gaze up. “Gonna come for me, pretty girl?” he teases. You nod helplessly, your body burning from the inside out. “Then ask for it, sugar.” 

“P-Please, daddy, make me come,” you moan, you’re pleasantly helpless under him. “Pleasepleaseplease—” 

With one final thrust, you tip over the edge; your orgasm rattles through your body accompanied by a series of groans and daddy’s. Adrenaline rushes through your system—your toes curl, your neck arches and your eyes roll back as pleasure washes through you. 

The mirage echoes every sound as Jack pumps his cum into you. He lifts you by the shoulder, forcing your head towards him as he claims your lips in a heated kiss. He swallows your moans, your whimpers and sucks your tongue until you’re compeltly pliant against him. 

Once he’s finished, the fog starts to dissipate until it’s only the two of you, lying in the dirt, panting, the fire alive once again. Jack kisses the top of your head before pulling out, and you look away, his spend drips from you, making a mess between your thighs, your face heats up. 

He tenderly cradles the side of your. Jack smiles and you can’t help but smile as well, burying your face into his palm. 

“That was—damn,” you manage to say. You blink and sit up, looking around you. There’s nothing but darkness and the sound of crickets. 

“Seems like your daddy took care of you,” Jack purrs, pecking your lips before pulling you into an embrace. You glare at him as he nuzzles your neck. 

“If you mention that to anyone else I’ll kill you.” 

He laughs whole heatedly, “I don’t kiss and tell, sweetheart. Don’t you worry that pretty head of yours.” 

“So the Eidolon Veil moved on,” you say, changing the subject. “I guess it was well fed.” 

“It seems like it,” he responds, kissing your forehead. Your heart flutters. “C’mere, let’s get you dressed before you catch a cold. We still have a whole lot of investigatin’ to do tomorrow.”

“Can’t we just stay like this? A little longer?” 

He kisses your temple this time, his warmth seeping into your back. “‘Course we can, darlin’.” 

You lean into his embrace and he manages to pull one of the blankets from his pack, covering you. Your eyes trail the stars in the sky. 

Little moments of peace like this are worth savoring just a bit longer.

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

Looking back at the older Saw movies, I’m wondering now if the series would have a better reputation if it had been treated more like an anthology. Because the two best movies in the franchise (1 and X) are the ones that could stand on their own, while the lower-tier ones are the ones that deal with the convoluted timeline.

I’m thinking something along the lines of Scream in which it’s the “same” villain, Jigsaw, but with different people in the role. There was a different Ghostface in every Scream movie, which worked for that franchise. Maybe Saw could’ve done it like that.

In fact, just off the top of my head, here’s how Saw could’ve looked as a semi-anthology:

Saw 1

* It’s the same

Saw 2

* It’s mostly the same, but John Kramer has to die at the end of it (he probably dies from Eric Matthews’ beatings). Saw 2 ends conclusively, as if this was the end of the franchise.

Saw 3

* Takes place two years later.

* Jeff and Lynn Denlon are the subjects.

* The story is centered around a copycat Jigsaw, who is revealed to be Amanda Young. Amanda secretly became John’s apprentice and has now taken his place.

* Amanda escapes at the end.

Saw 4

* Takes place simultaneously as 3.

* Daniel Rigg is the subject.

* Here, it’s revealed that Amanda was working with someone, meaning there were 2 copycat Jigsaws the whole time. The ending reveals that the 2nd copycat is Mark Hoffman, one of the lead detectives.

* Mark gets away and picks up Amanda, who has just left the game from the previous movie.

(NOTE: I want to emphasize that even though this takes place at the same time as 3, this movie is meant to be seen as a standalone. You don’t have to watch 3 to understand 4 is what I mean)

Saw 5

* Takes place a few weeks later, brings together the events of 3 and 4.

* Amanda and Hoffman put together a new game (the five-become-one teamwork trap) while trying to avoid the police.

* The movie ends with Hoffman betraying Amanda and shooting her dead, only for him to fall for one of Amanda’s booby traps (the closing walls trap that killed Strahm). So, 5 ends with Hoffman getting smushed as Amanda bleeds to death.

Saw 6

* Takes place a few years after 4 and 5.

* Detective Zeke Banks is the subject.

* A new Jigsaw copycat - also known as the Spiral Killer, to distinguish them from the other Jigsaws - pops up. The ending reveals that the new Jigsaw/Spiral is William Schenk, one of the detectives working the case.

* Schenk gets away with his crimes, setting up the 7th movie.

Saw 7

* A direct continuation of the 6th movie.

* William Easton is the subject, but has more of an involvement with Jigsaw/Schenk.

* Schenk dies at the end of it, but not before taking Easton down with him.

Saw 8

* Takes place a year after 6 and 7.

* The subjects are Bobby Dagen, his wife Jill Tuck-Dagen, and their family and friends.

* First twist: Just like the original series, Jill is revealed to be John’s ex-wife.

* Second twist: This Jigsaw is revealed to be Melissa Sing and that the reason why she’s testing Bobby, Jill, their family and their friends is vengeance for her husband’s death (Detective Steven Sing).

* Bobby and Jill survive while Melissa is arrested at the end.

Saw 9

* At least takes place several years after the 1st movie. The timeline isn’t as important for this one.

* Revealed that Dr. Gordon from the first movie did survive since John saved his life. Instead of asking him to become his apprentice, John allows him to return to his life. However, his life since surviving the bathroom trap has been horrible, leading him down a downward spiral.

* Main story: When Gordon learns his colleagues have been involved in a scam targeting the terminally ill, disgusted by their actions, he decides to put them through a series of brutal tests.

* Basically, in this alternate timeline, Gordon became a Jigsaw copycat through his own volition rather than John recruiting him.

* Gordon escapes at the end and decides to retire from the Jigsaw role.

Saw 10

* Takes place a few weeks after the 9th movie.

* Focuses on a manhunt for a Jigsaw copycat (assumed to be Gordon). It’s only at the end that we learn Gordon was in an entirely different state during the events of this movie.

* The new Jigsaw is revealed to be Logan Nelson, the coroner who appeared earlier in the movie. Since Melissa and Gordon were one-off Jigsaws, Logan is set up to be the new main Jigsaw.

/

/

/

You can read the revised, semi-anthology timeline like this:

The John Kramer arc is 1 and 2

The Amanda and Hoffman arc is 3, 4, and 5

The Spiral Killer arc is 6 and 7

8 and 9 are standalone movies

10 is the beginning of the Logan Nelson arc

Even though the movies do lead into each other, the arcs are meant to stand on their own and the timeline is much less convoluted. Also, not everything ties back to John, which I feel would give the franchise more creative freedom.

[formulakracing]

just how things come together, they fall apart - d.r.

pairing: female driver!reader x red bull!daniel ricciardo

word count: 2.5k

warnings: cursing, angst, unresolved romantic and sexual tension, a falling out of a friendship, some banter, the other drivers being little shits (especially kimi), allusions to smut, light alcohol use, "it was always you" trope, yadayadayada

a/n: this is my first time for our ol' boy danny ric! i hope i did a good job with this one! <3 i always love writing angst!

song inspo: friends by chase atlantic

"so this is it?"

"i mean," he won't even look at you, his eyes fixated on the floor, his head dipped low, "i guess so."

your lower lip trembles, fiery, frustrated tears welling up in your eyes, "i don't even know what the fuck i did wrong. i haven't done shit to you and here you are, kicking my ass to the curb."

"oh come on," he groans, bringing a hand to his temple, "you can't even be that upset with me. it's nothing personal. i just need to distance myself from you for a while. maybe forever. i don't know. i just know that i need to do this."

"i would be okay with it if i did something to make you upset with me or hate me," you wipe a tear, careful to not let him see you like this, "but i thought we were good. i guess not."

daniel grimaces, "like i said, it's nothing personal or against you. i think it's best if we're no longer friends."

"right," you nod, sucking in a sharp breath, "got it."

"i'm sorry-" he begins, but you stick up a hand, swiftly interrupting.

"don't even start with that bullshit. don't act like you're sorry just because you feel guilty."

"fine," he exhales, throwing his hands up in the air, "fine! i won't be sorry."

"see you around," you mutter, shaking your head, the tears streaming now, caking your heated cheeks.

storming out of the garage, you keep your head low, the other drivers mingling about, their voices hushed. yet, as they notice you, their attention shifts. sebastian makes his way towards you, concern plastered across his features.

"hey!" he calls, "what the fuck just happened?"

"ask daniel about it," your voice is shaky, "just fucking ask daniel about it."

"hey," arms envelop your frame, bringing you in close, "you can talk about it if you want."

"trouble in paradise?" a voice rumbles.

kimi.

"kimi," sebastian hisses, placing kisses along the crown of your head, "did you guys just fight?"

well, it more than just a little spat.

merely minutes ago, daniel announced that he was no longer interested in a friendship with you. a friendship that had blossomed and developed over the course of two years was gone in an instant, with no explanation why.

your heart felt like it was being torn into shreds, your breathing labored as you sobbed into sebastian's chest, the driver rubbing your back, his chin resting on top of your head.

"did something happen?" another voice cuts in, crisp with that oh so familiar accent.

lewis.

"i think they got into a pretty heated argument," sebastian murmurs, "he's kind of a piece of shit for doing that right before a race."

"what a dickhead," lewis whistles, "do you know what it was about?"

"no idea," sebastian shrugs, still clinging onto you, "she hasn't said much since she left the garage. just told me to ask daniel about it."

"hey," lewis places a tender hand on your shoulder, "you don't need that loser anyway. you have us. we'll be your besties."

"now is not the time," you grumble, "can we just get this fucking race over with?"

"only if you dust his ass," lewis pries you away from sebastian, wrapping you up in his own embrace. he squeezes you gently, "if you manage to get on the podium, will you please fill us in after?"

"so nosy," a giggle manages to bubble up in your throat, "nosy, nosy, lewis. always wanting the gossip."

"you know me," a chuckle vibrates in his chest, "i do love a good gossip session."

thank god for sebastian and lewis. and well, kimi was there too.

as one of the few female drivers in formula one, you were thrust into the oh so competitive world of racing around the 2016 season, right at the time max verstappen started his career. although it was your lifelong dream to drive for red bull, you were offered a seat at mclaren due to jenson button's announcement that he was retiring.

since it was a once in a lifetime opportunity, you decided to take it, accepting the contract offer.

not many women competed in formula one, and you were determined to make the world know your name.

that burning desire to win and your outspoken nature is what initially drew daniel ricciardo in, the red bull driver approaching you one night after qualifying in sochi. he struck up a simple conversation, complimenting your lap and your ability to navigate the track despite some unfavorable weather conditions.

from that moment, the two of you were inseparable, attached at the hip. if you weren't in the red bull paddock between races, he was at mclaren, the team principals grumbling to one another at your tight-knit friendship.

there were tons of sleepless nights where the two of you would lie awake, bodies snuggled together, rambling about everything and anything that came to mind. after the first grand prix where you scored points in 2016, daniel was right there after the race, hugging onto you so tightly, lifting you up in the air and spinning you around.

there were plenty of hungover mornings where he would hold your hair for you as you threw up in the toilet, rubbing your back, encouraging you to let it all out. there were nights where he would need your affection, begging you to come over to his motorhome so that he could fall asleep on your chest, your hand tangled in his curly locks as he dozed off.

sure, there were moments in which it was a little more than just a friendship.

there was the unforgettable night in azerbaijan, where daniel won. that night, you found yourself completely intertwined with the australian driver, skin on skin, his mouth roaming every inch of your body.

that was the first night daniel told you he loved you.

and there was something more than just a platonic sort of love in those words.

something along the lines of romantic love.

the kind where his presence sent your heart fluttering, bliss rippling in your chest the moment he flashed you that beautiful smile, dimples and all.

the kind of love where the moment his eyes met yours, you found yourself spiraling, completely and utterly speechless at the sight of his gorgeous mocha-hued gaze.

the kind of love where his touch sent a shiver down your spine, every movement electric.

there was no denying the feelings you harbored for the red bull driver.

you were in love with him.

completely and hopelessly in love.

and there was no going back, not since that night in azerbaijan.

you were in deep. probably way too deep for a friendship.

there was that minuscule hope that you clung onto nearly every second of every day. the inkling that maybe, just maybe daniel felt the same way.

after all, he had told you he loved you.

more than once.

surely that meant something, right?

the chemistry between the two of you was undeniable, often clouding over like an intense fog. the other drivers on the grid noticed it. your team principals were aware of it. fuck, even the media speculated the two of you were involved romantically, that you had more than just a friendly "buddy-buddy" relationship.

friends didn't fuck, right?

friends didn't snuggle together every night, drifting off together, right?

friends didn't share longing glances in the paddocks, right?

"hmmph," kimi's lip curls in disgust, "look over at the red bull garage."

your head swivels to your right, the blood roaring in your ears as you spot what kimi was referring to.

out of the garage comes daniel, greeting a slim, lithe blonde. he pulls her in for a lengthy embrace, peppering her face with chaste kisses. your palms calm up, your heart thumping against your rib-cage.

daniel's attention hones in on the four of you, the aussie waving a hand over.

"hey guys! come meet my girlfriend, anastasia!"

"you. have. got. to. be. shitting. me," sebastian's eyes widen, his lips parted.

"yeah," lewis runs his tongue along his teeth, placing his hands on his hips, "i'm not participating in any of that fuckery."

yet, you're silent, the tears threatening to spill over once again, your hands trembling.

how the fuck were you expected to race when your entire world was just flipped upside down?

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

all around you, the space is swathed by darkness.

you're buried beneath your blankets, swiping through your camera roll, pressing that fateful icon in the bottom right corner.

dried tears plastered your cheeks, your hair an unkempt mess, sweats clinging to your frame. inside your chest, your heart ached, the pain consuming you whole.

there's nothing but silence, the dull whir of fans merely white noise.

a sharp noise rattles through your motorhome.

the sound of a knock.

three of them, actually.

groaning, you untangle yourself from the blankets, shuffling down the hall to the main room. once you approach the door, you stifle a yawn, swinging it open.

there stands daniel, his hands shoved in his pockets, shifting uneasily.

"hey."

"shouldn't you be with your girlfriend?" there's a venom laced in your tone, oozing with a bitterness as you begin to close the door.

yet, daniel stops you, quickly wedging his foot in, "let me in."

"why should i?" you retort, brows furrowing, "you literally ended our friendship hours ago and now you want inside my home? fuck that. i'm not going to be some little side piece to fill your cravings while your little girlfriend is away. i'm worth more than that."

"can you just let me in for fuck's sakes?" he lets out an exasperated sigh, "i just wanted to make sure you were okay. jesus fucking christ. am i not allowed to do that?"

"i don't know," you shrug, "did you girlfriend give you permission to come by?"

"is that what you're all upset about?"

"no!" you retaliate, "i'm fucking upset because you never mentioned her until now! you never once said to me, 'hey, i'm dating this girl named anastasia. she's pretty neat! how about you meet her sometime?' fuck, daniel. you know i'm in love with you for fuck's sakes. you should know how much this fucking hurts me!"

as you finish, your knees buckle, wails rising in your throat. daniel swallows a lump in his throat, taking a step forward.

"why do you think i ended our friendship today? i couldn't bear the thought of you having to see me with her."

"you told me you loved me," you sob, shoulders shaking, "you fucking tell me you love me all of the time. i thought that-"

that's when his arms nearly crush you, squeezing you against his chest. he holds you for a moment, murmuring words you can't quite decipher.

"i'm sorry. i'm so fucking sorry."

"i don't know if that's going to fix everything," you mumble, sniffling, "apparently to you, words only mean so much."

"i thought that pushing you away would fix everything. that it would make my life easier. that i wouldn't have to worry about hurting anyone in the long run. i know i was wrong for that, and i'm so sorry."

his hand glides along your back, going in soothing, slow circular motions. you can't help but nuzzle into the fabric of his crewneck, inhaling his oh so familiar cologne.

as much as your head was screaming at you to push him out of your doorway, to tell him to leave and never come back, your heart yearned.

it yearned for him. his touch. his presence. the sound of his voice.

it craved him, fluttering as his mouth connects with your temple, pressing tender kisses down to your cheekbone.

"obviously i can't stay away," his voice is barely audible, "you just do something to me."

"and what's that?" you tilt your head upward, meeting his gaze.

"you make me weak. i only pushed you away because i thought that was the solution to the way i felt. if you were out of the picture, i wouldn't end up getting hurt. now look at both of us, nearly in tears and utterly heartbroken."

his fingers caress your cheek, tracing along your cheekbone as your lashes flutter, savoring the touch, "why didn't you just talk to me first about things? why did you think that getting a new girlfriend was the answer?"

"you know how i am about expressing how i feel. and i don't know, i thought it would fix temporarily fix things."

"i think it ended up fucking you over even more than you thought," you brush a curl out of his face, careful to not let him too close.

"you're right, per usual. what do you want me to do then? break up with her?"

"well you love me," you counter, pursing your lips, "don't deny it either, daniel. we both know you do."

he leans in, the corners of his lips curling into a giddy grin, "i wasn't saying i didn't love you."

"if you loved me you'd end things with her."

"if i did that, you would have to promise me one thing," his mouth hovers above yours, the tension accumulating by the second.

"and that is?" you arch a brow.

"you would never let sebastian hug you like that ever again."

"oh? did that get you a little riled up all the way over in the garage?"

daniel rolls his eyes, scoffing, "how did you think it was going to make me feel?"

"okay fine," you tut, pressing a finger to his lips, "i'm not going to kiss you until you end things with anastasia. get that phone out of your pocket right now and call her. let her down gently, though. she seemed sweet."

"surely not as sweet as you though," he teases, yet fumbles with his pocket, fishing out his phone.

as he steps away for a moment, bringing the phone to his ear, you tap your foot against the concrete, pointing to your wrist. daniel shakes his head, putting a finger up as if to say, one more second.

the call doesn't even last two minutes, the austrailian making his way back to you.

before you know it, his mouth is on yours, an open-mouthed kiss brimmed with a needy passion. your head rolls back, granting him more access and his hands grip your waist, one sliding further and further down as the kisses intensify, cupping the curve of your ass.

he pulls away, breathless.

"i love you. i love you. i love you. it's always been you, and it's always going to be you. i'm sorry i'm such a dumbass and can't navigate my feelings."

"you know you can talk to me about things, right?" you suppress a giggle, "you don't have to ruin a friendship over it."

"well i didn't quite ruin it," he leans in once more.

"oh yeah? how do you know that?"

"because you're still in love with me. and you're going to be my girlfriend in no time."

[queenshelby]

Our Little Secret (Part 19)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Infidelity

Following mediation with Danielle and, within a short ten-minute walk, Cillian and Siobhan arrived at a bar downtown which was well known for its delicious cocktails and extensive wine lists. 

As they entered the bar, the scent of premium liquor and appetizers lingered in the air as if conjuring a promise of pleasure to come and Siobhan was quick to order two Whiskey Sours for them, which was a beverage that her brother would not usually drink.

"What is this, Siobhan? Are they out of beer?" Cillian chuckled as his sister handed him a drink, causing her to roll her eyes at him.

"You're such a lightweight, aren't you?" she giggled as he sipped his whiskey sour and grimaced slightly before responding, "Oh, please, I can hold my own. Just not...whatever this is..." Cillian chuckled and Siobhan laughed heartily, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement before she spotted a familiar face, namely her colleague Amanda. 

Amanda was quick to wave at Siobhan, who immediately abandoned her conversation with her brother to greet the older woman. Amanda wore a sleek black dress that hugged her curvaceous form, her short dark hair framing her angular face like a striking portrait. She looked like a model and Cillian watched Siobhan approach her and exchange whispers with her before pulling her over towards Cillian. 

"Cillian," she began. "This is my workmate and friend, Amanda O'Connor. She is from Cork too," Siobhan then explained and Cillian's interest piqued.

Amanda's gaze fell upon him, scrutinizing him with a mix of surprise and intrigue. "It is a pleasure to meet you Cillian," Amanda said, biting her lower lip. 

"Likewise," Cillian replied, offering her a warm smile, which caused Amanda's pulse to skip a beat.

"So, what brings you here, Am?" Siobhan asked, her voice softening as she studied her friend. "I mean, it takes a lot to drag you away from your work."

The corners of Amanda's mouth curled upwards, her eyes glinting mischievously. "Well, I thought I needed a break from the case I am working on and decided to unwind a bit. I actually have taken two weeks off now," she explained while looking at Cillian directly, sending an irresistible vibe that even the dullest person could notice.

A few moments passed without any sound but the soft hum of music playing in the background creating a comfortable silence between them and then all three of them talked, about work, legal cases and politics while sharing a bottle of wine before, after a little while, Siobhan called it a night, leaving Amanda and Cillian to their own devices. 

For some reason, Amanda seemed intrigued by Cillian. The way he carried himself, his self-confidence, and that unique aura about him that attracted her instantly were all factors driving her feelings wild, and she couldn't help but find herself wondering how things might turn out if she allowed herself to enjoy a little flirting with him. 

"So, Cillian," Amanda started, her tone low and husky now that Siobhan had left, "Tell me, how do you spend your time outside acting? Any other hobbies or interests?" 

"I like music, jogging, reading," Cillian replied casually, "meeting up with my sister and her attractive friends," he teased, his piercing blue eyes met hers, and Amanda felt an electric charge pass through her body.

"I take this as a compliment, Mr Charming," Amanda remarked jokingly, unable to mask the sudden spark of attraction that ignited beneath her skin.

"I am just being honest," Cillian responded, grinning boyishly and Amanda raised an eyebrow, amused by his boldness.

"Speaking about honesty, I live just around the corner from here," Amanda offered, taking a sip of her wine and winking suggestively. "And I am about to go home, so..." she paused before asking "would you care to join me? For company, I mean."

"Yeah, sure, why not?" Cillian replied, shrugging nonchalantly, yet inwardly he knew that something exhilarating lay ahead, especially considering the sultry tension simmering between them.

As they exited the bar, the cool breeze caressed their faces, carrying the intoxicating aroma of blooming flowers. Their eyes locked momentarily, each sensing the palpable chemistry brewing between them as they walked side by side, the moon cast its ethereal glow on their path.

Amanda led Cillian down a dimly lit alleyway lined with graffiti-laden walls. The flickering shadows danced on their faces, adding an air of mystery to their encounter.

Amanda, with her athletic build and green eyes, exuded confidence and poise, while Cillian's rugged charm and piercing blue eyes radiated an undeniable magnetism. As they continued walking along the cobblestone streets, the scent of damp earth mingling with the sweet perfume of blossoms filled the air. Amanda gently brushed aside a loose strand of dark hair, exposing her graceful neck. Her fingers grazed Cillian's arm, and a shiver coursed through his veins as he felt the heat of her touch.

"How much further?" Cillian queried, breaking the silence that followed their last exchange.

Amanda smirked. "Not far," she said. 

"Good, because I don't know how much longer I can keep my hands of you," Cillian replied flirtatiously, peeking sideways at Amanda whose green eyes sparkled playfully under the shadowy street lamps.

"Oh really?" Amanda gasped, feigning shock. "That so? Well, I guess we'll see about that." Amanda chuckled, brushing past Cillian's shoulder as they reached the entrance to her apartment building.

"Ready?" Amanda asked, turning back to look at Cillian who stood only a couple steps behind her.

His presence made her feel like the ground beneath her feet was shaking, and the intensity of his gaze made her knees weak. "Sure, let's go," Cillian replied, reaching out to gently grasp Amanda's hand, intertwining their fingers together. His grip was firm yet gentle, sending a surge of electricity coursing through their bodies.

As they ascended the stairs leading to Amanda's apartment, the air thickened with anticipation and unspoken desires. The creak of footsteps echoed in the stairwell, each step closer to her destination feeling like an eternity.

Amanda hesitated for a second before opening the door to her apartment, her heart pounding against her chest. In the dim light, she gestured for Cillian to follow her inside, and he did. Once inside, she turned to face him, their gazes locking in a heated stare. The air crackled with anticipation, and the room seemed to get smaller with every passing second.

"Would you like something to drink?" Amanda asked, trying to hide the anxious tremor in her voice but he shook his head and simply closed the gap between them.

His lips pressed firmly against hers, his tongue slipping past her parted teeth with a slow, sensual kiss, their bodies melding together as one. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he ran his hands up and down her exposed thighs underneath her dress. It felt like they'd been making out forever, standing there in the middle of her living room while the wind whistled loudly outside, threatening to expose them both to the world beyond these four walls.

"You know what, Cillian?" Amanda murmured breathlessly, pressing her forehead against his.

"I want you. Right now." Cillian kissed her again, deeply and passionately, his hands roaming across her bare shoulders and back. He lifted her effortlessly onto the kitchen counter, spreading her legs with his knee. She gasped, clutching his shirt as their tongues dueled furiously.

"I need more than kisses, Cillian," Amanda whispered hoarsely, her voice barely audible. "I want you inside me."

He nodded, his breathing ragged as he pulled her dress over her head, tossing it aside. Her bra followed, revealing her luscious breasts.

Cillian's eyes widened, his breathing growing heavier as he stared entranced at her naked flesh. He reached out, cupping her bosom, squeezing gently as if assessing their weight. Amanda moaned softly, her nipples stiffening beneath his touch. She grabbed his belt buckle, undoing it hastily, revealing his erect cock.

"Fuck," Cillian muttered, running his fingers through her silken hair while staring intently at her tits. "I want every inch of you." Amanda arched her back, presenting herself willingly to him.

Her hands slid down his chest, tracing lines of desire as they explored his toned torso. She reveled in the sensation of his skin beneath her fingertips, the rippling muscles flexing in response to her touch. The intimacy of it all overwhelmed her senses, and she eagerly awaited his next move.

"Cillian," she murmured, her voice hushed and seductive. "Fuck me. I need you to fuck me hard."

He obliged, swiftly removing his clothes until he stood fully naked before her. His erection stood proudly, evidence of his arousal for her.

Amanda reached out, wrapping her fingers around his hardness, guiding it towards her wet pussy. Cillian groaned, his hips thrusting forward, entering her with a single forceful plunge. Amanda cried out, her body arching back as she savored the exquisite sensation of his massive cock filling her tight hole.

"Harder, Cillian," she urged, clutching his backside, urging him deeper. "Fuck me harder!"

Cillian complied, his powerful strokes driving Amanda wild, her cries echoing through the apartment. Each thrust sent shockwaves coursing through her body, intensifying her pleasure. She clawed at his muscular arms, her nails digging into his flesh as she struggled to maintain her balance on the countertop.

Each thrust brought them closer to the edge, the raw power of their connection overwhelming them both. Cillian gripped her waist tightly, his movements becoming faster and more urgent. Their bodies slapped together rhythmically, their sweat mixing in a potent cocktail of lust and desire until, after almost an hour, they both reached their release together.

"Fuck," Cillian growled through gritted teeth, his entire body convulsing as he pumped his seed deep inside of Amanda.

She threw her head back, screaming with ecstasy as her orgasm consumed her whole being. Her nails dug into his back, her fingers gripping him tightly as her muscles contracted violently.

Afterwards, they collapsed onto the countertop, panting heavily, their bodies slick with sweat.

"Wow," Amanda managed to utter, her voice strained and broken. "That was amazing."

Cillian merely nodded, too exhausted to speak.

His breath came in shallow gasps, his muscles still quivering from the intense workout they'd just shared. After several minutes, they finally mustered enough strength to separate themselves, stepping away from each other and allowing their bodies to cool down.

"Thank you," Amanda whispered, her voice still hoarse from their passionate encounter. "That was incredible."

Cillian smiled tenderly, his gaze never wavering from her face. "No, thank you," he replied sincerely.

"You took me completely by surprise tonight. I wasn't expecting...this."

Amanda smiled shyly, her cheeks reddening slightly. "Neither was I," she admitted quietly. "But sometimes life throws us curveballs, you know? And we just have to swing for the fences."

Cillian laughed softly, nodding in agreement. "Indeed," he agreed before suggesting another round in her bedroom. 

***

Meanwhile, you were alone at your new house for the first time, expecting Cillian to come over for a bit to help you settle in, just like had promised. You couldn't stop thinking about the mediation session earlier today and how upset Cillian must have been.

"I just wished I could be there for him," you thought to yourself, pacing restlessly around the living room. "Maybe I should call him?" you mused, glancing at your phone but, when you did, he did not answer.

Frustration gnawed at the edges of your consciousness, but you tried to push it away, focusing instead on the task at hand - settling into your new home.

You tried to call him again a little later and, again, there was no answer, which was something that worried you. 

It was unlike Cillian to ignore your calls and you feared it meant something had gone wrong during mediation. So, you decided to text him. "How did it go?" you asked and, eventually, after about half an hour

of calling and texting Cillian, he finally called you back.

"Hey," he sounded tired, but he quickly changed his tone to show he was happy hearing from you. "I am sorry I didn't let you know earlier, but all went well," he confirmed, his voice still sounding exhausted as, in the background, you heard some music and a woman calling his name. 

The woman did not sound like Siobhan, which instantly confused you. Yet, you knew that Cillian's personal affairs were really none of your business.

"Are you still coming over tonight? I made lasagna," you asked before telling him that the kitchen in your new house was well equipped, so you took advantage of it. "It's almost ready. Do you want to drop by?" you invited him, adding that it would be great to see him.

"Shit, I am sorry," Cillian stammered. "I wish I could, but I can't make it tonight," he apologized, his voice growing softer and more apologetic as, unbeknownst to you, he was with Amanda, the woman he had met at the bar.

"I am meeting with my agent," he lied, his voice strained and desperate. "Sorry, Y/N," he breathed heavily, his thoughts racing frantically as he searched for words to comfort you. "Perhaps I can swing by tomorrow in the morning?" he attempted to soothe you, his voice quivering slightly.

Your heart plummeted at his words, and you swallowed hard, struggling to find any words to respond. "It's fine Cillian, don't stress. I have classes in the morning," you informed him, swallowing down the disappointment that washed over you since, over the past week, you felt as though you had connected with each other again somehow.

"I will see you at the ultrasound appointment at 3 o'clock tomorrow though, right?" you added brightly, hoping your cheerful tone would convince him that everything was okay.

"Of course," Cillian replied before wishing you a good night. "I will see you tomorrow afternoon," he repeated before hanging up the phone and returning to his rendezvous with Amanda while you decided to put on the TV.

The house you were in came furnished and whilst everything was beautifully arranged and designed, you couldn't help but feel a little out of place in home like this.

You were young, now living on your own in a house not even most middle aged people could afford. 

It was beautiful, with high ceilings, large windows that overlooked the city, and rooms filled with modern furniture. Everything seemed perfect, except for the fact that you were alone. Your friends all still lived with their parents or at shared accommodation in town, except for Cillian of course.

Cillian was much older than you and lived just around the corner, but you knew that you could not expect his company regularly, even in spite of your little arrangement. 

You could not help but feel a twinge of longing for him, but you brushed it away, determined to enjoy your newfound independence. "I have to learn to let go," you reminded yourself, watching the evening news with a glass of your favorite soda in hand while wondering how, on earth, you will cope bringing a child into this world.

To be continued...

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[mngo-jii]

✉️ : this was supposed to be a drabble to motivate me to write, um. take it anyway, as an apology from me not writing a fic in a while. im working on a request, i promise. (this is from a scene in 'nevertheless')

7th year au, Daniel is a mess, drunken confessions !

You don't understand why Daniel miserably sprawls out on the bed, why he closes his eyes in drunken annoyance at the most ridiculous reason, or why he sinks himself and nearly drowns in the unkempt sheets.

You haven't even had a chance to change out of your dinner date attire, let alone had the time to bury your face into your pillow after the date you've been longing for months. This isn't even Daniel's dorm—it's yours.

"Daniel, this is ludicrous," you admonished him as you sat. Daniel feels the mattress sag under your weight, and he childishly turns his back on you.

"How could you be so clueless?" he mutters. Most of it is muddled into the fluffs of your pillow, but you can make out what he's saying. "Clueless as to what?"

Daniel only groans in response. You call out his name, sick of hearing him mutter absurdities.

"...Seven full years, and you're still yet to grasp what's happening in front of you."

"Happening in front of me...?" You furrow your eyebrows at the boy below you.

"I know what's happening in front of me: my best friend scaring off my roommates as he crashes into my bed while intoxicated—because I decided to go on a date with the guy I like rather than hanging out with him."

You didn't think there would be a day where the tables would be turned and it would be you consoling a mess like Daniel.

Nights prior to this was when it was you sprawled on his bed, whining about this same guy you've been pining on—about how he's constantly being shipped with another girl, or how he wouldn't even bat an eye at you even after all the things you've done for him.

And despite how tired Daniel was with your nonsense and patheticism, he let you bury your teary eyes into his shoulder, letting it soak his jacket with your tears full of desperation to be admired. He shushed your sobs and cries of this douchebag's name, and he caressed the top of your head to calm you.

...

The two of you are enveloped in stillness, cut off from the outside world like a thin quilt falling onto you. Daniel is immobile beneath you as you irritably close your eyes at the ceiling.

At this point, you had started contemplating if you should simply ignore Daniel and crawl into a deep slumber next to him—it's not like there hadn't been any nights where you two latched onto each other, anyway.

Your thoughts trail back to your date that night, yet you can't bring yourself to feel flustered anymore. The person you've been looking forward to excitedly rave about this is drunk on your bed because he had been opposed to it from the start.

..."I like making potions, you know."

You hear the boy mutter below you. You lower your head, silent and questioning. He's drunk, after all.

"I like solitude as well," Daniel finally turns on his back, tiredly gazing up at the ceiling as you stare down at him. "...Unless it comes to being around you."

He sloppily sits up. His face now inches away from yours.

"I like you the most," he says, "I like you more than potions and solitude."

"You're my favourite person in the world," he trails off.

"...What about you? Who's your favourite person?" he continues, desperate eyes linking with yours. His scent is engulfing you in a dizzy haze. "Stop this nonsense," you pathetically turn away from him just to be pulled back.

"Do you like that guy? You like him, don't you?"

...

"Then I want you to stop. Because..." Daniel sinks his head down as he drunkenly speaks, "...I just don't like it."

"Don't hang out with anyone else. Just me, okay?"

"Just me, please." He grabs a fistful of your clothing and desperately leans his head to your chest.

"Please, [Y/N], only me."