#I love you porsche and I know you have your reasons

[fandomfairyuniverse]

Imagine your boyfriend keeps running off with your cousin who you also happen to hate. That’s horrifying

[nonuify]

ᝰ.ᐟ 🐈‍⬛ — J.WW ; ! soon to be mrs

nsfw is included ! minors do not interact 18+. old money au ! [ smut, fluff & degrading kink oop- ]. idk why inspired by this song lol ꩜. | wc ; 1.8k.

“ who would’ve thought that you were to be with one of the most wealthiest men on earth? but being the wealthiest sure means being the busiest here you are sitting bored in the classiest bar in paris while being on a business outing with your dear fiancé. ”

if you told yourself four years ago that you are engaged to jeon wonwoo of jeon industries you would’ve laughed your ass off.

but now here you are sitting right beside him.

he had displayed his affection to you by holding your thigh with his veiny hands, his fingers brushing slowly on the delicate surfaces of your skin. but he was also giving more attention to the business man in-front of him and you.

now you would bang your head to the wall of boredom but you must admit that it is refreshingly breathtaking to your ears hearing the man talking business with his elegant french accent but you would’ve loved it more if your dear lover was making love to you in the penthouse owned by him.

but of course here he was not giving the attention that you’ve been needing all these two hours. trying squeezing your thighs together to relive some friction but eventually becoming a failed attempt the reason being your fiancé, giving you a blank stare for a moment meaning to warn you but you didn’t give a flying shit anymore you just wanted to get your brains fucked out.

a low sigh escaping your lips from clear frustration following a roll from your eyes which caused the french man to speak up “mademoiselle it must be tiring for being a wife of such a busy man” a chuckle out his lips while taking a sip from his martini, a giggle also left your lips with a response “well if I may say yes it is tiring but wonu always makes it up to me” a wink flew to wonwoo making him smile.

“by making up I’m sure you mean hurting his credit card” a hearty laugh from the client.

“well no, but the answer well… let’s just say it isn’t appropriate for a business scene like this” a smirk forming on your lips, enjoying every moment of this, but as your eyes shifted to your lover you couldn’t say the same, his eyes widened as he almost choked from his alcoholic drink from the words the graced your mouth.

but smoothly saved the awkward silence by saying “I think my darling angel here has had too many drinks” he chuckled but did not mean he found it funny one bit.

instead he was frustrated maybe even abit jealous if he may add he knew that bastard of a client was flushed when y/n said that, not to mention he dared to check his fiancé out too many times for his liking.

“well.. it was nice meeting you mr.aucalir but i think i need to take care of y/n here” he said putting a hand around your shoulder, signaling for you to get up from the comfy space of the chairs you were both sitting in. “ it was a pleasure having a drink with you mr.jeon & certainly a delight to have known soon to be mrs.jeon here” he said kissing you hand while you giggled away also went afar from the business man you just chatted with, coming close to wonwoo’s black porsche 718 spyder RS, his looks weren’t the only thing that was breathtaking but also his taste in cars.

the feeling of the seats leather warmed your skin but once you sat done his hand also warmed the flesh of your thigh once again but this time he gripped it tight, you knew you were in for a ride once you got home.

“wonwon you know i was joking my love?” batting your eye lashes at the male who was driving the car, but unsurprisingly you were meant by silence from him but the car sped faster, wonwoo knew your bratty little tricks and he wasn’t gonna give you what you desperately wanted easily.

after of what seemed like a decade of a car ride you finally stepped into the penthouse you guys had lived into for a short-period stay in paris, the simple yet sophisticated well decor gave the housing unit a warm yet elegant vibe, you’re admiration for the designing of the penthouse was cut short when your fiancé pinned your arms above your pretty little head to the wall leaving no space between your bodies, he wasn’t touching you thoroughly yet your panties soaked when he did the simple movement “nonu I didn’t mean to word it out like that I swear it was only for fun” you pouted, knees weakened as he stared into your pretty trapped hands around his & saw the big diamond rock around your finger, memories flowed when he asked to be his forever, then moved his beautiful orbed eyes and looked at yours with so much lust yet so much love.

“I think it’s about time you shut your dirty little mouth for me how about that doll?” he spoke as he left his lips dangerously close to yours eventually kissing you passionately.

his hands moved letting yours freed but went to your hips grabbing them, you wrapped your legs quickly around his waist, knowing this session was heading to the bedroom you slept in.

your roberto cavalli dress you’d previously had worn was now on the floor as you were on the bed, back on the silk mattress & now wonwoo was on top of you, taking off your classic black little thong a wet spot was felt by his hands causing him to laugh “dumb baby gets wet by anything don’t you?” throwing you a smug smile, “you were the one who-“ you get cut off, your own panties gagging you “that motherfucker” you thought as now you can’t do nothing but whine against the thong that was in your mouth.

“didn’t I tell you it’s time to you shut your mouth angel?” kissing your neck leaving purplish-redish marks against it, you knew he loved marking you, it was a way he would prove to the world you were his and his only.

you would be lying if you said that didn’t make you even more wet, whining & moaning louder as your lover moved from your neck to quickly ripping your black bralette that obviously matched your thong.

he groped one of your breasts in one hand with the other he bit & roughly kissed it.

he knew how sensitive your nipples were and oh boy you were in for a very long night, with each kiss the rougher on your poor nub, “mm those boobs were made for me weren’t they angel” he smiled against one of them as you would only moan loudly enjoying every bit of this moment, wonwoo the moved down to your wet sex, hot breathes against it.

kissing your inner thighs first then eventually after more teasing he sucked on your clit , your hands never moved faster down to his hair at that second, his eyes on yours as he licked & kissed away down there, you could only watch and was helplessly gagged by the panties as even your moans were painfully to let out by that you knew if it made you uncomfy he would remove it in a matter of moments.

but luckily you liked it no. loved it deep down you both know you were a little masochist.

“aww my dumb girl is struggling” he faked a pout then went back to tongue fucking your hole, stretching your tight little cunt out until a knot formed in your stomach feeling an orgasm coming, whining loudly as you tugged on his hair more harder, rolling your eyes you finally you came on his face.

panting heavily till you calmed down a little. momentarily after that he took the panties from your mouth & threw it somewhere around the dark natured bedroom, you begged him “please please nonu please fuck me I promise I’ll be a good girl “ as tears formed falling from your eyes, giving him the best puppy eyes ever “but I let you came no?” disappointed as you began to cry more, thinking of an idea of letting him into fucking you, you got on all fours pressing your ass on his clear raging boner “such a pathetic cocksleeve” but he smiled at how desperately you wanted him he found it cute even.

you heard his belt being taken off, you couldn’t be happier after hearing that you could scream you were getting what you wanted all night long “t-thank you s-so much nonu!!” how cute his cute little angel “always so polite when I give you my cock, I guess you are my good girl” he chuckled kneading the flesh of your ass then spanking each side of your cheeks loving the sight of it jiggling.

teasing you, sliding his dick against your folds, you whined pushing backwards to hope you would get him inside of you quickly, but he answers by grabbing your head and pushing down on the mattress with one hand and pushing his cock in your tight hole with the other.

make-up that took hours for you to finish was totally ruined.

your knuckles turned white from how you gripped at the mattress “w-wonnwon!!” moaning loudly feeling as he stretched you out completely by his big cock, “fuck a-always so fuckin’ tight f’me” he groaned thrusting slowly for you to adjust to his size then picking up the pace, skin slapping & lewd noises was filled with in the room.

“mm fuck this cunt was made f’me isn’t it princess, m’gonna wife you up ” you only muffled a mm! yeah! loudly as a response, too fucked out to respond correctly.

“gonna cum with me angel?” his thrusts sped up feeling his high he moaned and said again “cmon baby come with me s-shit” both moaning in unison riding your high together till he came & you squirted out on his cock.

loving the feeling of his warm seed in you, you whined after he pulled out and lied down on the bed with you “fuck that was really hot baby, squirting all for me” he pushed the hair out your face and leaves kisses all over your face, saying precious compliments on how you did good for him, “mm love you nonu” you hugged him lying with him soon into going into the world slumber “love you more angel” he smiled pulling you close to him.

the tingling thought of tomorrow & the day after & after because what was awaiting is the best life you could wish for as long as it’s with jeon wonwoo.

! 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ this is so bad I’m so sorry- but thank you for reading >ᴗ< !!

[fangirl-dot-com]

Lewis Hamilton and George Russel - I'm with a Knight and Slenderman, No One Can Touch Me

It’s part 4 time! This was so fun to write and I laughed so hard at some parts. I feel like George is a really underrated driver. He’s funny and a good person (even though he looks like Woody from Toy Story). And the girlfriend effect has hit him hard. His hair is so beautiful and I need to know what he does with his bangs. 

And then Sir Lewis – good Lord, he needs to go back to that one hairstyle from that one interview that made everyone fall for him 

Specially dedicated to @treehouse-mouse <3

[TAG LIST IS CLOSED] 

Like always, comments, questions, concerns, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated! Love you all &lt;;3 

“Shit,” you muttered as you looked around the now empty paddock. You knew that taking a nap after your media duties had been done was a bad idea. You had played nap roulette with yourself and were now paying the consequences. You shouldn’t have said “oh, I won’t set an alarm. Someone will come get me. I might nap for ten minutes or it might be 3 hours. Who knows!” 

Well, now you knew. It was three hours. 

You looked around for your backpack that you had come with. But as your eyes danced around the garage, it was nowhere to be found. You sighed as you at least remembered your phone. But alas, the world hated you for being a woman: your phone was dead. 

“Ok, there’s no reason to panic. Let’s head to the parking lot and see if someone is still here,” you whispered to yourself. Walking carefully, you exited the dark paddock. The parking lot was no different. 

Dark, cold, and empty. 

“Great. Just great.” You decided to sit on a curb and wait. Maybe by now, Christian or Max would know that you are missing, and will come back to get you. 

Or maybe they were mad at you. Yes, you were on the podium. As a rookie. At your first race. 

But you made a mistake that costed the team a 1-2 finish. Maybe you didn’t deserve to be looked for. 

Before your thoughts could spiral more, two bright headlights blinded you. You raised a hand to try to cover at least some of your face. The two front doors of the car swung open. Your heart started to race. 

It was just you out here and they might be kidnappers. 

“Please I have no money on me. Don’t beat me up or kidnap me. Trust, you do not want to sell me or anything like that,” you spoke out, trying to hinder their unknown wants for you. Your fear slowly melted away at a familiar grandpa laugh and bean-pole build of the two figures. 

“Lewis! George!” You stood up quickly. 

“What are you doing out here?” George peered down. Your neck was bent to even look up at him. 

“Um. I might have been left behind because I was taking a nap. And my phone is also dead.” You sheepishly grinned at the two. 

Lewis sighed before bringing out his phone. “I don’t have Christian’s number, but Toto does. Let me give him a call.” 

Your head cocked. “Do you not have Max’s number?” George let out a laugh. 

“Kid. Think of Abu Dhabi 2021.” Your eyes widened. 

“Sorry.” 

Lewis waved you off and walked a bit aways to hear Toto. George just kind of stared at you as you stared at him. 

“Are you ok?” 

“Of course I’m ok. I’m with a knight,” you pointed at Lewis, “and Slenderman. No one can touch me.” You crossed your arms before giggling. George just gawked at your boldness. You took this time to look at the nice Mercedes in front of you. “Is this the new model?” 

George nodded. “Yeah, Lewis just got it. He won’t let me drive it though.” A pout formed on his lips. 

“I get what you mean. Max won’t let me drive his Ferrari.” 

“Why would you want to drive that junk?” 

Your head tilted. “I don’t know. I like my Porsches better though.” It was George’s time to raise an eye brow. “I haven’t gotten them yet. But they’ll be ready soon. I had to ship one to London and the other to Monaco.” 

“Ah.” 

You looked at Lewis, who was still on the phone. You had an idea. 

A very bad one, but an idea none-the-less. 

“You wanna go somewhere?” You pointed at the still running car. Lewis should have taken the keys. 

“Where would we go?” George was already grinning like the Cheshire cat. 

“There’s a burger king a couple of miles away.” 

George was already climbing into the driver’s side. “Let’s get going!”

Back with Lewis, he was still on the phone. For some reason, Toto would still not give him Christian’s number. 

“Please Toto, I am with two children,” he pinched his brow, “and I’m tired and I’d like to get back to the hotel. So please send me Max’s or Christian’s number.” He wasn’t aware of his car that was now filled with said two children making their getaway. He hung up once he got Max’s number. 

His phone rang for a few seconds before Max’s voice sounded over the background noise of a party. 

“Who is this?” 

“It’s Lewis. You left your kid here.” He heard Max curse on the other side. 

“I thought Vito was getting her, but Vito is right at the bar. Can you send me your location so I can pick her up?” 

Lewis waved a hand, even though Max couldn’t see it. “No worries, I can just drop her off. I’m with George and we’ll driver her over. I have my-” Lewis stopped.

“Lewis? Are you there?” 

Lewis’ eyes scanned the now empty parking lot. He groaned. “They took my car!” 

Max laughed for a bit before he realized that Lewis wasn’t playing. “Send my your location, I’m already out the door. We’ll find them.” 

By the time Max got to Lewis, you and George were already having the time of your lives. 

You pointed out the window. “Look Georgie. Traffic cones. Have you ever put one on your head?” 

When George denied that he had, you gasped and told him to pull over. You and him climbed out of the low car and walked over to the traffic cones. By now, your phone was a bit charged, courtesy of the charger in the vehicle. And it was blowing up. 

But you didn’t see it or care. 

You picked up one of the cones and put it on your head. Your giggle resonated through it. 

“Y/n, smile!” You heard George say. You smiled, even though it wouldn’t be seen under the orange hat. 

George told you that he was going to set up the camera to take a picture of the two of you. 

“Let’s put our heads together.” The two cones whacked against the other. George had to bend over so that they would be close.

You laughed as your hair was staticky due to the cone. George’s hair was the same, which made you laugh even harder. “Send that to me, I’m going to post in on the gram.” 

The only notification you looked at was the one from George with the picture. Quicky uploading it, you knew you were about to create even more chaos. 

The two of you decided to sit on the curb for a bit. Your thoughts from earlier quickly sprang into your head, due to the silence between you two. 

“George?” you questioned, looking ahead. He was currently scrolling through his phone, but he made a noise to let you know that he was listening. 

“What was it like having a teammate that you know you’ll never amount to? Not saying that you won’t amount to Lewis at some point, but,” you trailed off, not knowing how to continue. 

The click of his phone let you know that George was now focused on the conversation. 

“I get what you mean. It’s very overwhelming. You get put up with world champions, and people are already expecting you to beat records and perform as well as they do.” George sighed as he reflected on his first year with Mercedes. How the people would taunt that he wasn’t good enough to be Lewis’s teammate and that he should just be second fiddle to him. Suddenly, he noticed a hand had been placed on his shoulder. Tears also wetted his face. 

When had he started crying? 

You continued to rub his shoulder until his tears stopped. 

You tried to console him. “Well, we can be second-fiddle buddies together?” you offered, hoping he would laugh. And he did. 

The two of you decided to sit on the curb for a few more minutes. But at this point, you knew that Lewis along with Max were probably on their way to get you. You pulled yourself up, then held out a hand to George, who took it without second thought.  

Before you knew it, the two of you were back in the car, just chilling. 

“Look what Max and Lewis are saying.” You showed him the screen and laughed. It really was fun to mess with old men. 

“Are we still going to burger king?” 

You nodded your head. “If Lewis can be a knight, I need a crown to be the king.” 

“Don’t you mean queen?” he asked as he started the car back up again. 

“Nope.” You popped the P and that was a good enough answer. George pulled away from the side of the street and made his way to the Burger King. The two of you were thankful that it was mostly empty, except for the employees. The two of you ordered more than enough food for two people. You justified it as giving the workers more money. 

Your companion went along with it. 

“Order number 69,” the tired lady called out. George and you shared a look before the two of you collapsing on the ground, dying with laughter and probably exhaustion. You were still giggling as you took the food from the lady. You muttered a thank you before you and George took a table near the back. 

“Did you get your slushie?” you questioned, holding your cup. 

“I didn’t know they had slushies!” 

You took George’s hand and let him over to the machine. The amount of slushies that you slurped down would never be recorded. As you drank one of your last ones, you suddenly remembered an important detail. 

You looked over at the tired lady who took your order. “Do you have the crowns?”  

Max was still constantly trying to reach you, with one hand on the steering wheel and his phone in the other. 

“Come on kid. Pick up,” he pleaded and cursed when the call went to voicemail for the umpteenth time that night. 

Lewis was texting all the drivers in the group chat, asking if they’d seen the two of you. They came up short. 

“This is ridiculous,” Max seethed. “How could you have let them do this?” 

Lewis shot him a glare. “How could you leave her at the paddock after dark?” he bit back. 

“Like I said, Vito was supposed to take her back to the hotel. She’s not allowed in the clubs.” 

“Then Christian should find some way for everyone to party. The kid got a podium her first race as a rookie, and she was left behind.” 

Max banged his head on the steering wheel as they stopped at a red light. Lewis was correct. He wondered if you felt forgotten. Knowing you, you probably did. And it was mostly his fault. He’d talk to Christian about alternatives until you turned legal age.

“I’ll talk to Christian about that. What were you and George doing back at the paddock anyway?” 

Lewis grimaced. “I forgot a file back at our garage. George seemed antsy and restless so I invited him. Never doing that again.” 

Max smirked, “Kids. Am I right?”  

“Look!” Lewis pointed at a familiar car in the parking lot of an empty Burger King. Max pulled in on two wheels. As they walked up, their eyes landed on two people, crowns on their heads, hands flailing. 

Max pushed the door open and stopped towards the figures. His hands landed aggressively on the table. “Do you two know how much trouble you’re in.” 

He heard laughing from behind him. 

“Max. That’s not them,” Lewis whispered. 

Max’s head jerked and saw the scared faces of two employees. He heard more laughing and whipped his head around, eyes finally falling on you and George, whose phone was out recording. You looked as if you were about to explode with laughter. 

“I’m sorry about that.” He turned around and stomped towards your table. “Let’s try this again.” 

His palms hit the correct table this time. “Do the two of you know how much trouble you are in?” He looked into your eyes before glancing at George. 

You stared up at the seething Dutchman. You pulled out a french fry.  

“Fry?” 

“Lewis, I got you an impossible whopper.” George held out the wrapped food. 

Max sighed, anger waning by the minute. There was no fighting with the two of you. The two adult-figures sat down and started to eat. Max munched on a fry as Lewis started to eat the burger. 

You and George continued to talk about your so-called adventures. 

“And then George ran a red light.” 

Lewis choked as George winced. Lewis’s head jerked toward George, eyes squinting. 

“You’re paying for that.” George only shrugged, he had enough money anyway. 

Max just stared in silence, mulling over the exhausting night. You could sense that he was still cooling off, and you were scared of what he might say in the car. 

The food was quickly finished and the four of you were headed out the door. It seemed as though yours and George’s energy levels were quickly tanking as the two of you barely said a goodbye. The hug and faux tears though were enough for Lewis and Max to roll their eyes. 

You watched as George and Lewis left in the Mercedes. You gulped as you got into the passenger side of Max’s rental vehicle. You winced at the proximity. 

You mind quickly went back to your dad. How he’d hit the side of your face if you did anything that was “out of line.” Or he’d pinch your thigh until it bruised. Those were the easiest to hide. When your face was a little too red and purple, your helmet stayed on for the entire race day. 

Your eyes welled with tears at the thought of Max turning out to be like him. You didn’t think he would, but you were out of line tonight. 

No fun. No sneaking out. No stealing (borrowing) cars. 

You were sinking into yourself, and Max could sense that. 

He turned to look at you. What he said next was shocking. 

“I’m sorry kid.” 

Your eyes bulged. “Why are you sorry? If anything, I should be on my knees begging for your forgiveness.” 

Max just stared at you before slowly putting his hand near your head. 

This was it. He was going to hit you and you’d have to live through everything again. You couldn’t tell Christian that his golden-child would do such a thing. And no one would ever believe you. 

You jerked back as your eyes closed tight. Your body tensed, waiting for the repercussion to your actions. Your breaths got a little bit faster and shorter.   

But it never came. 

All that was, was a gentle placed hand on the top of your head. 

Comforting. Loving. Cherishing. 

Max wanted to cry as he saw how your body prepared for something horrible. Something nasty. 

“Kleintje,” Max breathed out. 

Your tears began to make their escape down the hills of your cheeks. You could only repeat and whisper I’m sorry, over and over again. Max couldn’t do anything but wait for you to calm down and maybe tell him what was racing through your head. 

Your breathing evened out as you felt there was nothing coming. Soon you were embarrassed for thinking that Max, one of the only people to seem to care about you, would do such a thing. Yet, your mind always went back to your patterns.

People who should care, didn’t. Hands that were made for comforting, didn’t. Encouragements didn’t exist…for you. 

Maybe you were the problem. 

But, maybe you weren’t. You’d allow some comfort, just this once. 

Max cooed as you leaned into his hand. He knew you were tired. A long day of racing and a long night of adventures would really do that to you.  

He didn’t expect you to explain to so quickly. But you knew how to surprise someone. 

“My dad and mom, weren’t the nicest. They wanted a boy, got me instead.” You harshly exhaled. “They put me in karting because if they had had a boy, they would have done the same. I was just a placeholder.”

Max listened, wanting to hear what you said. 

“It started off small. A push here, a hit to the helmet there. I really didn’t think anything of it. Until I was about 7 and I crashed my kart on the last lap. I was going to win too, but I over compensated and hit the wall. All I remember after that race was my dad grabbing my wrist and yanking me to the car. I hit my head on the dash, I think. Or he was the one to push my head in.” You shrugged at the nasty memory, as if it didn’t matter. 

Max on the other hand, was getting angrier. Yes, his dad did similar things, but he was a boy. He could stand up for himself. And he had his mom and sister. 

You had no one. 

“The next morning, I woke up and there was this giant bruise on my face and smaller ones littered my arms. I thought that was the end of it, except it continued. I was able to hide it pretty well. My race suit pretty much covered everything. I also didn’t have many friends, or, I just didn’t have friends. So there, wasn’t a need to worry. They stopped after I made it to the end of F4, because I was winning and there were more cameras. The moment I made it to F3 in 2019, they disowned me.” 

He did the math. You would have been 16 at the time. Still a kid, but smaller. His heart broke for you. 

“Kid, look at me.” 

You turned your head and made eye contact. Your brows furrowed when you saw tears in his eyes. 

He wasn’t supposed to cry. Why was he crying? 

“I’m crying because no one should ever have to go through something like that.” Oh, you must have said that out loud.

You shrugged once again, “I probably deserved it.” 

“No, geitje, no one deserves that. Ever. You didn’t.” You could only nod along. Your eyes were getting tired by the minute. Max could tell so he started the car. He only had one more thing to say. (translation : kid) 

“My dad did similar things. But I had people to help me. And I know your dad isn’t around, but Y/n,” he said your name, trying to emphasize that he was serious. “I am here for you. Christian is here for you. Mitch is here and so is Vito. We love you. I’m not a good teammate, and you can see that I’ve gone through more teammates than anyone else has in the amount of time I’ve been here. I’m the only constant. But I think that we will actually work out. Best duo right?” 

For the first time since Burger King, where you and him were still parked, he saw your eyes light up. 

You nodded, “Best duo.” 

Max finally took that as a sign that you’d be ok for the night. He carefully back the car out and started on the road toward the hotel. 

“Do you think Christian will let me come to the club next race.” 

Max let out a sarcastic laugh. “Definitely not.” 

Your giggles filled the small space. Max’s heart swelled at making you laugh. 

You’d be all right. He’d make sure of it. 

AN: oh my gosh that got REAL depressing – I apologize. But, Max needed to know a bit more about your lore if he’s going to be able to fend off any unwanted visitors (FORESHADOWING). Anyway, I will see you all at the next chapter! Muah! Much love <3 – author :D 

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[romanoffsbish]

I’m Fine 🙂 / Save Me 🙃

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader (Familial / Sisters)

Warnings: Angst w/Bittersweet Ending | Reader Dies | Black Widow / Red Room Canon | Addiction | “Cry for Help”

All she had left was the memory of you. | WC: 1,512

"Do you ever feel like you're all alone in this world?"

Natasha looked up from her laptop quick. "What?"

"Like, no matter how hard you try, no one will ever love or regard you in the same way you do them?"

——

Natasha tried to approach you gently, "Y/N." Yet she wasn't quick enough as you jumped back. "Shut up."

There was a fire in your eyes she hardly recognized, and she took a step back. Looking in your eyes hurt, because you were not the same little girl who used to pick flowers from the garden just for her hair and part of her took blame for that. "Don't try and pretend like you do." If you were a wine you'd be the most bitter. "I don't know why you even keep me around Natasha."

The redhead scoffed bitterly, "because I love you!" It stung to feel the burden in her words—you're hurting yourself just to spite her, but she hurt you first and with the way your mind was racing this made sense.

"Or is it because you feel guilty?" You countered, and hit it on the head as she whispered, "Y/N, please..."

Crushing her the same way she did you the day she left you behind, in a place built to destroy a dreamer like you, in the hands of a man set out to punish you for the mistakes of the woman you loved the most. Ouch.

"Do you think the world would miss me if I vanished?"

"Of cou—." You mindlessly cut her off, words tinged with vitriol, "Of course not. You're the one they'd hold the candlelight vigils for, you'll be on a mural and I'd be the one the stray cats would miss, because just like them I know what it's like to truly have no place."

"Have you been smoking pot?" It reeked the longer she stood closer to you. Then you all but confirmed it as you grew defensive. "Is that all you can ask Natasha?"

Natasha clicked her tongue. "Answer the question."

"Yes," you monotoned, "what does that change?"

"Everything." You grew rather frustrated, "but how?"

“You’re not making any sense,” she tried to reason but you laughed incredulously, “this is the first time in my entire life that I am making complete sense, Natalia.”

"I don't like it when you're like this, sestra."

"I'm always like this." Natasha sighed, "yeah..."

"Yeah?" Natasha nodded shamefully and you couldn't stop the sob from breaking. She hated you.

"Then I won't be anything to you, anymore."

Natasha shot up in a cold sweat, her wife beater tank top sticking to her skin, the words of your last fight still ringing in her head; a cry for help and she was useless.

"Fuck," she hiccuped, her knees pulled to her chest as she sobbed alongside the sky just outside the window. She dug the heels of her palms into her eyes and tried to force the pity she felt for herself away, the grief...

There were so many things she could have said; done.

I don't understand, but I want to; talk to me...

Had she ran after you, would it be different now?

Could've grabbed you by the arm. Don't go. Stay.

I love you more than you could ever know.

Instead she scoffed, 'at least I can finish my paperwork now,' and let you storm out the door without noticing the keys to her brand new jet black Porsche were gone.

Yelena still won't return her calls. Melina and Alexei are beside themselves in a grief harsher than her own. Though she internally wagers that her loss was the greatest, because you were her little widow first...

~-~-~———————-~-~———————-~-~-~

"Natty?" the blue haired girl looked at you with a wide grin, the innocence of the nickname you gave her was endearing and in the same breath, twisted. It was clear to her you didn't remember much of the before. You were four years her junior, so similar to Yelena, this life was honestly all you'd known. "Da, malen'kiy pauk?"

Natasha laughed just as soon as you giggled. It brought her joy to know, that for a while, you could be free of the harsh shackles that awaited you all back home.

"A little girl at school today told me about how in her family, when a person goes away, that they can become something else when they visit." Natasha nearly lost the joy on her face as you curiously approached death. In her mind the hope you held onto was futile, that when you shoot someone between the eyes, they are as good as gone, but she could never destroy you like that.

Instead, she gave life to your wonder, "What would you want to be then, a kitty?" You shook your head and blurted your answer easily, "malen'kiy pauk." The gaps in your teeth only made your smile more endearing, and the redhead opened her arms to you. You launched yourself into your sister's arms and gripped her tight.

"Then I could visit you," you mumbled against her shirt and the natural redhead tensed. The idea of you no longer existing felt unpleasant—her walls crumbled the moment you and Yelena entered her life but this was the first time she'd felt anything excruciating.

"Moya malen'kiy pauk," she chuckled softly so as to not cry instead, she placed a kiss to your cheek then hoped your childlike attention span would change the tune.

Then a familiar jingle sounded and you were scrambling into the house, shrieking for your mom.

Natasha shook her head and walked to the old man who knowingly parked out front of your house. He handed the redhead three ice creams, and a disk.

—————

You stood next to Natasha in the line for lunch, which was just a tasteless tray variety of essential nutrients. It was rule of thumb not to talk in line, but you were never one to follow the rules, and neither was Natasha.

"Are you scared of death?" Natasha frowned. "What?"

"I think a healthy fear for the end is fair, but I'm not losing sleep over the concept. Why do you ask?"

"Because I'm honestly not," you shrugged, stance indifferent but Natasha unfortunately believed you as you went on to say, "just wondering if I'm alone."

"Never with us," Yelena chimed in. "Death is an inevitability, just a matter of the when and how."

It wasn't hard to see to the fear in the blonde's eyes as she kept up her indifferent demeanor. Deep down, Natasha knew she was still that little girl from Ohio, who up until recently called fireflies, forest stars.

—

"I can't believe it," your tone clipped, the warmth you used to greet her with was gone. "I'll be back," she lied without realizing, but you could see it clearly. "Izhets."

(Liar)

"Y/N, I am going to end it once and for all," she hoped you could see the bigger picture, a promised freedom.

"Tozhe tupoy," you chuckled humorlessly. "There is no end, just more opportunities to build up defense."

(Dumb too)

Natasha fell for the American's words of ignorance.

"I love you," she said with certainty before she was one with the shadows, the last piece of your hope gone as it'd been years since you last caught sight of Lena.

~-~-~———————-~-~———————-~-~-~

A loud cry outside the purposely cracked window pulled her from her bittersweet thoughts of you...

Natasha stood beneath the tarp of your balcony, eyes downcast on a gorgeous white cat, paws soiled by the mud she trudged through with her three kittens. The redhead set a plate of food down for her then settled down beside her, towel in hand as she dried her babies.

The light of the moon cast over the kittens, reflecting off their varied fur patterns. A black one meowed, calling to her first among the litter, he hissed softly at the unfamiliar lift but settled fast as she began to dry his fur, pulling off grime and putting him to sleep.

The same occurred with the next boy cat, who was a gorgeous shade of gray, with faint swirls of orange.

Lastly, the smallest of the three, a gorgeous blend of white, brown and orange. She was the most vocal.

A grateful purr came from the mama cat when the redhead moved on to her paws, her eyes fluttered open at the unexpected contact, and when Natasha lifted her own gaze she gasped. With the light now on her face the color of her eyes was clear, a tear streamed down Nat's face without warning. The color and deep feeling of understanding behind them were just so, you.

"Oh my," a subdued laugh left her as she caught sight of something else, she scooped the feline into her lap, and placed a finger on her wet, pink nose in waiting. The blur of black transferred right on over and the woman smiled truly for the first time in eight months. "Dobro pozhalovat' domoy, moy malen'kiy pauk."

(Welcome home, my little spider)

[bunnyhugs77]

Tokyo Drift

Pairing: Street Racer! Jungkook x CEO Daughter! Reader 

Word Count: 2.1k

Content Warning: street racing, sneaking out (even though oc is 21), jungkook is secretly whipped, secret relationship, sexual themes, talks about getting a tattoo, speeding, oc wears pretty skirts, victory lap.

Other Content: size kink, manhandling, oral sex (f! receiving), just porn without plot tbh, oc has big titties, oc squirts, wall sex, strength kink, teasing, crying, fingering, sloppy makeout sesh on the hood of jungkook’s car ;) 

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

"I’m serious, Y/n. I want you staying home tonight, I don’t want you anywhere near all that reckless street racing.” Your father instructs but it was going in one ear and right out the other. 

“Daddy, they’re not reckless, they know what they’re doing--” He rolls his eyes as you tried to reason with him.

“Bullshit, Y/n. If they really knew what they were doing, putting their lives in danger just for some cash, they would have realized by now it's idiotic and pointless.” He shakes his head as he approaches your bedroom door, “Do not leave this house.” That’s the the last thing he says to you before shutting your door behind him. 

You could not believe him, you’re twenty one for god’s sake, twenty-two in a few weeks actually, he couldn’t boss you around like you were still a kid. Despite his words, you waited up like you usually did, this was not the first time you had this argument after all. 

You waited until all the house lights were turned off and you made your way down the grand staircase that posed as an inconvenience to you in the dark while you headed for the front door; assuring the alarm was silent for your escape. 

Finally free, you took a breath of fresh air as you got into your custom porsche parked right outside the house. You’re unable to deny yourself of the bubbling excitement that grew in your stomach as you got closer to the parking lot of the diner where the cars typically met up on race night. 

Your car was practically nothing compared to the others on the lot; you took note of this as you stepped through the array of cars until you found who you were looking for, leaned up against the hood of his sleek black and blue corvette. 

You failed to contain the smile that spread across your face the moment you saw him, “hey princess,” he gently cups your face in his hand, straightening his posture before leaning down to peck your lips. 

A cool night breeze flew past the both of you causing you to shiver slightly, his eyes analyzed your clothing, mini skirt and an off-the-shoulder top. His face immediately washed over in concern as he took your hand in his, loving how small and warm yours felt in his much larger one. 

“baby, it’s chilly tonight. I don’t want you to get cold.” You couldn’t believe he was real. He was always putting your needs first which is how you found yourselves in the diner’s bathroom, door locked, skirt pushed up and your ass on the edge of the sink with his hands on your hips as he kissed you deeply. 

Your hands roaming over each other’s bodies radiating with more desperation and need for one another the longer you were in each other’s presence. “j-jungkook-- your race,” you had to pull yourself back out of his hold in order to look at him straight, your hair was already a little disheveled and eyes hazy as you looked at him. 

he takes a look at his watch, a mischievous smile spreading across his red and abused lips, “we’ve got 15 minutes,” he clarifies which still doesn’t have you convinced, “but that’s not--” if only you knew what you were getting yourself into with those words. 

“I can make you cum in forty-five seconds if i wanted to. we have time.” his voice so brash and deep as if it was a growl as he worked at raising your top over your bra before pulling the latter down to let your full tits spill over, 00revealing themselves to him. 

a strangled groan was caught in the back of his throat before he began marking your chest, lips puckering around the buds of your nipples as his tongue lapped over them, sending chills down your spine.

“mmm, feels so good,” you moaned your legs spreading to make more room for him as your hands crawled their way to his hair, tightening their grip as he nipped lightly at your sensitive buds. “you’re so fucking stunning, you know that?” he hums as he kissed down your abdomen where he made sure to leave a trail of hickeys behind. 

he slowly crouched lower to his knees, the sink being the perfect height for his intentions with you. You helped to raise your hips making it easier for him to pull down the soaked fabric of your underwear down your legs. another shiver running down your spine as you watched him pocket them.

“so so pretty, hmm-- my pretty girl.” the vibration of his voice against your bare and exposed cunt sent your legs flying shut to which he kept pried open with one hand. 

“keep your fucking legs open or I won’t let you cum.” the thought of not being able to release the burning heat that built within your core shook you to the bone. you shook your head fearfully, that being the last thing you wanted but you couldn’t seem to move at the sensation of his wet, warm tongue working against you. “i’ll be good, p-promise,”

“i know you’ll be good, you’re always such a good girl for me,” he coos before continuing his sinful attack on your pussy with his mouth. your vocabulary was failing you as you his tongue flicked over your bud, lapping up at your folds, he was so fucking filthy with his tongue it had your eyes rolling back.

 Your eyes tightened in his hair eliciting a deep groan to erupt from him which felt like it was bouncing off the walls of your cunt. “fuck- jungkook-” 

“feels so good,” you say breathlessly, feeling as though he was eating you out within an inch of your life. he chuckled darkly, looking up only to be met with the sight of your head hanging back, with one hand in his hair and the other gripping the edge of the sink for dear life. 

the feeling of his tongue prodding at your entrance had your legs shaking, welcoming an indescribable feeling to consume you before you could even identify it, “s-stop stop-- gonna” you weren’t the only one caught off guard by your orgasm, you’re sure jungkook would’ve liked more time to prepare before you squirted on his face. 

He pulls away from you slowly, not breaking the eye contact he had with your sopping cunt. “holy shit, y/n. did you just--” your face was red in embarrassment, “i’m sorry--” before your apology could even fully leave your lips jungkook had risen to his feet, manhandling to get you off the sink and against the nearest wall. 

you’ve never seen this look before, as if he wanted to consume you whole. “don’t fucking apologize. that was so hot-- shit, do you feel what you do to me?” With one hand holding your leg up by his waist he used his other to guide your free hand to feel his rock hard cock from beneath his jeans. 

your face returned to its previous shade of red. he checked his watch, he was running out of time but he would much rather be balls deep in you than speeding down the street. 

“does your daddy know you’re out here at this time, princess?” he was teasing you, he knows how much your father hates you coming to his races but something about you breaking the rules to support him just makes him strive to see you fucked out all the more. 

the second your mouth opened to respond you feel two fingers plunge into you knowing you were more than wet enough to take it, “hmm? what was that? I didn’t quite catch that?” He laughs wickedly, seeing those familiar tears pool in your eyes, the same ones that drove him insane. “n-no, he doesn’t know-- ah.” you yell at the stretch of his third finger joining the other two. 

“such a bad girl i have here, how disobedient of you.” his teasing was only adding to heat that was burning inside you, bringing you closer and closer to your high before it was ripped away from you along with his fingers.

you whined loudly in protest, “you didn’t think i wasn’t going to fuck you, did you?” he questions you, letting you down for just a moment to pull his jeans down along with his boxers, letting his cock stand tall and proud as it his toned abdomen after he discarded his shirt. 

you watched with a hungry gaze as he pumped himself a few times, sucking in a sharp breath between his teeth before lining himself up with your soaked cunt.  he didn’t have the time to tease but he wished he did. ‘next time’  he thinks to himself. 

it’s a breathtaking stroke, quite literally as it seems to have sucked the air from both of your lungs the moment he bottoms out. your nails leaving intricate details on his back, sure to leave slight welts by tomorrow morning. “fuck y/n, this pussy is a dream.” he groans, his pace picking up significantly, hips jackhammering against you as he holds you up against the wall with both hands under your thighs, gripping them tight enough to leave bruises. 

Sometimes when you don’t get the chance to see each other what really gets him off is the thought of you tattooing his name onto your inner thigh. subconsciously gripping them tighter at the idea. For you, it was thinking about how big and strong he was, the way he could hold you in this position for hours with absolutely no struggle, the thought alone made you clench around him.

“jungkook! slow down,” your words sounded more of a question than an order making him laugh as he knows you’re already feeling a little sensitive after your previous orgasm, “yeah? that’s what you want? want me to move like this?” he slows down, rolling his hips to the pace that it was slow but deep. 

initially he only did it thinking it would piss you off but the way it made you spasm around his length made him reconsider the pace until he remembered how little time he had. leaving you winded as he suddenly resumed his inhumane pace, your tits bouncing like the girls in his wildly explicit animes. 

“j-jungkook, i’m gonna--” in the end it was jungkook’s vocality that brought you to the edge and pushed you over, this time somehow feeling even more powerful than the first with the added sensitivity leaving you screaming.

with your hair all over the place, tits out, and wet cheeks jungkook couldn’t hold himself back from blowing his load, “shit shit shit,” a string of profanities slip past his lips as he reaches his high before coating your velvet walls with his hot cum.

your foreheads rest against each other for just a moment as you catch your breath, coming down from your highs with a few small kisses here and there until reality settles in that jungkook has no more than 2 minutes to get to the starting line.

the two of you had never moved with such speed, you did your best with your slightly altered walk credit to jungkook’s energetic thrusts to your poor pussy.

he made it in the knick of time, you watched from the sidelines in the large crowd as jungkook and his competitor drove up to the line until they were side by side.

there was a girl who stood in the middle of the two cars with her hands high in the air, by the time she brought them back down the two cars had completely vanished, speeding down the strip far out of view.

It was no more than 5 minutes before the high maintenance vehicles came racing back into view, it looked almost as if it was a tie but anyone could see jungkook had crossed the line mere milliseconds before. the cheers roared to fill the street, the people behind you celebrated loudly, music suddenly beginning to play from speakers that others had brought. 

Just as jungkook pulled into the parking lot once again you hardly gave him enough time to park before running towards the vehicle, he stepped out, picking you up from the back of your thighs, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips as he spun you around. 

“Congratulations!” you cheered, letting out a small puff of air as you felt him place you on the warm hood of his car, his large hands snaking back down around your waist as he kissed you passionately. It was all adrenaline and tongue, your hands swinging over his shoulders while he deepened the kiss before he pulled away.

“wanna go for a victory lap? let me take you for a ride.” he grins. 

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗗𝗔𝗬 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗠𝗨𝗦𝗜𝗖 𝗗𝗜𝗘𝗗 - part six max verstappen x girlfriend! driver! reader (angst + fluff, minor smut) “. . . Where have you been?”

( fic master list | general master list ) ( previous | first )

"Oh my lord Max." You laughed watching your boyfriend jump in the pool. He was most definitely drunk, because he was fully clothed. The reason why he was in the pool was because literally. "You're so hot, hotter than the sun." "But you're hugging the sun, aren't you going to catch fire?" "Oh shit! I'm on fire!" Splash!

You laughed looking at the boy who was treading at the edge with his eyes looking at you with the most loving gaze. You were quick to get on your knees and try to reach for the blond. Alcohol does not mix with water. "Maxie, take my hand." "No, I don't wanna be on fire."

He swam ( more like paddling like a puppy ) away from you. You were getting a good laugh out of this, setting your wine glass down and getting a spare towel. "Maxie stop running away." "I want to live." He replied as he escaped you once more.

You slipped into the pool swimming after him, finally catching him and pulling him out. "Noooo." Max whined as you wrapped the towel around him. "My sun went out." He sighed looking at you, leaning into your embrace. You laughed rubbing his shoulder to comfort him as you pressed small kisses on his lips.

"I'm fine, Maxie." You chuckled looking into his blue eyes that looked at you with worry, leaning your forehead against his. He smiled gently pressing a kiss to your lips. "I'll always be there for you, Maxie."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Look at that dribble." Carlos laughed as he watched you get past Daniel and Max like a pro, shooting towards the goal but ultimately missing. The three boys laughed as you looked disappointed at the empty goal. "How do you miss that?" Daniel asked wheezing on the floor.

You frowned at him, giving Carlos ( your team mate who was making fun of you ) a dirty glare. Next was Max, who was standing straight like a pencil, doing his best to hold his laugh in. "You look like shit." You scoffed at him, folding g your arms and looking away embaressed. Your insult only made all the boys die even more.

Max lost his composure falling to the floor, laughing as he pleased. Your gaze softened for a moment, you never heard him laugh this much before.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Did you know? The fans behind you, they're Y/N's fans." "I've been told, yeah." Max looked back, looking at the crowd cheering for him. A warm smile covered his face as he turned back to the interviewer. "And how does that make you feel?" "It's uh, definitely a good thing. Makes me feel like she's here with me." Max nodded looking back at the crowd singing in your native language.

When max walked back to his garage he looked at his new car for this season. Although not much has changed with the paint job and the sponsors, your racing number was on the nose of his car ( something he begged your father to have ) even though he could have the number 1 now that he won the World champion title after you left.

The pre season testing had been completed and Max can finally go home. Passing through the fan zone, Max met his and your fans alike. He took pictures and signed autographs, as well as received gifts.

Upon entering his empty apartment, the blond took refuge on the couch. The spot where he had turned into his bed, even though there was a one in perfectly good condition in the bedroom next door ( which has not been touched since you received your world champion title ).

It's been like this for two years now, Max liked to pretend you were too lazy to get out of bed, napping or eating while watching Kimi's races. But deep down, he knew you weren't. With a deep sigh he pulled the extra bag he had to buy to fit all the gifts he received.

Most of the gifts were for him, minus the few pink themed ones for you which was a result of your obsession with your pink coloured Porsche sitting in the garage. The pink stuff was set on one side for you and the blue or orange on another side for him.

Max received shirts, bracelets, letters, a lot of things really. What caught his eyes the most was a flip book, a work of art containing water paintings of moments you shared with Max across your journey though f1.

When he flipped to the last page his eyes where met with a printed QR code. This could be either a bad or a good thing, and before he got the chance to find out his phone rang. "Hey Verstappen." Your father's voice rang through the apartment.

"What's so important you had to call me in the middle of the night?" He sighed rubbing his face tired.

"You might want to come down to the hospital." He replied sighing. "Hi, Max" he heard Daniel in the background. That's all Max needed to put on something appropriate and go down to the medical centre. When he finally found the two men through the ER, he was welcomed by a nice surprise.

"I think I stubbed my toe." Daniel joked looking down at his broken foot. "What did you do?!" Max was panicking, the season had barley started and Daniel ( who was finally in a RB seat ) was out.

"Someone slammed the door on his foot." Your father explained sighing in annoyance. Max never liked your dad, since he was a kid. He was always so mean and cruel. And although he tried to fix things recently, whether by comforting Max or you, he still had this dark and intimidating aura.

A former world champion and the father of one, sitting on a stool, eating mac and cheese. Very scary. Daniel laughed seeing Max looking at your dad amused. "Who gave the old man food?" Your father rolled his eyes as he continued to eat.

"It should be an easy recovery, a month or two." Max sat on a spare chair listening to Daniel explain the injury in medical terms he didn't understand. And soon, after Christian Horner was informed of the inchident, Max was able to return to his apartment, laying on the couch facing the racing sims on the other side of the room.

"Maxie, you hungry?" "I'm good, Mijn liefje. Thank you." [my love] He looked up at you, a soft smile spread on his face. Although he should've been concentrating on the online race in front of him, you had his attention wherever he went.

You chuckled gently putting the pair of glasses you found on the boy. "Since you're not hungry, I guess I get the beautiful tomato soup in the kitchen all to myself~" You teased kissing his cheek. "Hey! No fair! I want some." "Then you'll have to hurr-" ring! ring!

"Kan ik geen moment van rust hebben?!" [can i not get a moment of peace] Max shouted over the phone agitated. Who was interrupting him this late?! What he heard next made him feel like a maniac. He was back in the hospital, jogging ( he was told he wasn't allowed to run ) through the halls and up the stairs.

Once he reached room 717, he came to an abrupt stop. A deep breath escaped his lips as he opened the door. "Your late."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I'm hooked on a feeling. I'm high on believing. That you're in love with meeee. I'm hooked on a feeling!" Max sang through his radio as he completed his cool down lap. Once he jumped out of the car, he was greeted with cheers from the fans and his team. But most importantly, your smile.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"There's nothing for miles." "You don't say. We've been walking here forever." You groaned arms dangling down. You were sitting on Max's shoulders, dangling down upside down out of boredom.

The beach was stretching out for miles on end, the waves crashing into each other was the only noise you could hear.

"You think the kids are fine?" He asked worriedly, stopping for a second and looking back. "Yes, Maxie. Have a little faith in them." "I do have faith, I'm just-" "I'm scared too. But you know, I've got you, so I'm less scared." You assured, patting his thigh.

"Ps. Why's your ass so big?" "It is not." Max defended swinging you sideways. You could only laugh, smacking him over his swim trucks before wriggling out of his hold and running away. Max was quick to follow you, running after you. "Come back here!"

"Run run as fast as you can. You can't catch me, I'm the- AAAH." "Gotcha!" Max wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up and spinning you. You were laughing loudly, relaxing in his arms as he pressed kisses on your cheek.

[formulapierre]

I don't wanna leave just yet | Pierre Gasly

Pairing : Pierre Gasly x Y/N!reader

Prompt : Based off of 'I don't wanna leave just yet' by Thomas Day. Where Pierre suddenly ends your relationship; claiming it was your fault and you have to deal with the fallout.

Warnings: Cheating. I also wrote this in a couple hours so please excuse any grammatical errors. Thanks x

Word Count: 1358

Song: I don't wanna leave just yet - Thomas Day

'The world goes up in flames so fast'

“Y/N,” Pierre says from the kitchen.

“What’s going on P?” You ask, still sitting on the couch. Pierre didn’t sound like himself which concerned you, in the whole almost three years you had been together he had called you by your first name probably a handful of times. You got up and went into the kitchen, knowing that was going to be an important conversation

“I need to be honest with you Y/N; I need to be honest with myself-” He starts to say before you cut him off.

‘What are you saying?�� You ask him, very confused by the situation.

“We haven’t been working for a while…and I’ve-” He says pausing, evidently trying to figure out what to say and how to say it.

“-you’ve found someone else…” You say, finishing his sentence for him, tears starting to form in the corners of your eyes, clouding your vision.

“Yes,”

And all I want is all I had But it's too late to take it back

“We can fix this…I can fix this,” You say softly.

“No Y/N,” He says, almost pained.

“Please Pierre, there’s no way this is just it,” You argue, his eyes refusing to meet yours.

“It is, I have found someone else. This isn’t just about me and you anymore…well it never was, was it?” He asks and you roll your eyes.

“You’re still insecure about that?” You asks, lost for words that he was still hung up over it. “ I never slept with him, we both told you that. Stop making things up Pierre. There never was, is, or will be anything between Charles and I.” You argue; He had apparently seen proof of you and Charles leaving a party in Ibiza together.

“The photos Y/N!” He argues back.

“Are of some random girl, who also has blonde hair. Its not that fucking uncommon.” You reason for what felt like the millionth time. “So that's it? That's the reason you’re going to use? End three years of us because of some bullshit rumour?” You ask, the tears starting to roll down your cheeks.

And I can't ask of you to give away the last of you But, selfishly, I'm hoping that you stay

“Please don’t go,” You beg as he silently packed his bags.

“I can’t stay here, can I?” He asks bitterly, sticking to his guns.

“You have to believe me, those rumours are just that, rumours,” You say. “You trust me Pierre, there is no reason I’d lie to you. Fuck me, why would Charles lie to you? He is your oldest friend for Christ's sake?!”

“You tell me Y/N? Is it because you’re still seeing each other behind my back?” He asks and you just laugh.

“Are you hearing yourself right now?” You ask incredulously

Let's lock all the doors and crawl in to bed Just another moment so I don't forget

You were sat, side by side in Pierre’s brand new Porsche; a gift He had bought himself when he signed his contract with Alpine. His hand resting on your thigh as you drove along the southern french coastline. The wind running through your hair as you sang the lyrics to your favourite songs.

As the song came to an end Pierre turned the volume down before looking over at you. Your large sunglasses and woven hat keeping the sun out of your face but bright red smile, smiling right back at him.

“Have I told you today how much I love you Cherie?” He asks sweetly, as soft blush covering your face.

“I don’t think you have,” You reply as he brings your hand up to his lips.

“Well we definitely need to change that,” He says, causing you to laugh softly. “I love you Y/N so much it hurts; it feels like I was made to love you. We are perfect for each other and nothing will ever come between us, because I love you,” He says honestly and jokingly; you both had found the notion of true love to be made up, but people around you had always commented on the fact you were perfect for eachother.

“Yeah right,” You reply teasingly.

“Cherie, it pains me that there may even be a little part of you that doesnt think what I said was true,” He says with a laugh as He comes to park at your next stop. A tiny village surrounded by vineyards, known for their white wine

'Cause it's gonna hurt, and I'm scared to death We have to go but I don't wanna leave just yet

How couldn’t he believe you? 

You had even gotten Charles to speak to him about it; Pierre barely listened to him as He spoke. Neither of you making much difference. That had been a few months ago, you had thought you had moved past it considering you hadn’t actually seen charles since the supposed event. But apparently not.

How were you going to be ok without him? He had been your lifeline, your rock for nearly three years. And how could he throw that all away over rumour?

Of all people to not be affected by rumour, you would have thought it was him. His job and the places he worked were full of speculation, gossip and rumour. There were constant rumours about the latest supermodel He had bedded, but you didn’t let that get to you. Why was the other way around any different?

You were lost.

The truth is written on the walls But we'll lay here and watch them fall

You lay in bed, staring at the framed photos on the walls. 

You and Pierre in Rouen,

You and Pierre at the beach in Monaco with Charles and Charlotte,

Christmas last year that you spent with your family,

The selfie you took on your anniversary date,

The road trip you took around the UK when you first got together, wanting to show him all your favourite places.

The photo Esteban had taken of the two of you kissing in the back of Pierre’s garage only a few months ago.

You thought about taking them down so you didn’t have to look at them, not wanting to face what was reality for so long. You cried, remembering each memory associated with each photo, how much it hurt that he wasn’t here, and wasn’t going to walk through the bedroom door and scoop you up into his arms; telling you everything was going to be ok.

And please forgive me for holding on I'm tryna take it in before you're gone

He had forgotten it when he had packed all his stuff up. A linen shirt. Something so basic, but so important at the same time. That was his signature outfit. The one he wore on your yearly Lake Como trip, or when you go to France to see his family, or when he was just lounging around the apartment. You were surprised when He messaged, you knew for a fact He had a handful of other shirts just like it.

But this would be it; you held it close to you. Inhaling the, now, feint smell of his cologne for what would be the last time before you heard your doorbell ring. You folded the shirt, setting it down before answering the door.

“Hey Pierre,” You said opening it to reveal him standing on the other side.

“Just let me have my shirt Y/N, I don’t want this to be any longer than it has to be,” He says and you have to stifle your emotions, just nodding and grabbing the shirt from the table.

“Here,” You say, handing it to him.

“Thanks,” He says quietly before turning away and heading down the hallway. You watched as he walked away from you for the last time.

'Cause it's gonna hurt, and I'm scared to death We have to go but I don't wanna leave just yet

His clothes were gone,

His toothbrush was gone,

The photos were gone,

His smell was gone,

He was gone.

And you? You were lost.

A/N : I might do a few more of these purely text based fics as they are much quicker to write than my Instagram fics and shorter; though I will continue to do them I just want to be posting more regularly for you all. -E x

[hunterbunter3000]

Krueger would definitely rescue Sweetheart and only her. Man would go as far as drive up in something with only two seats 💀 that man is unapologetically simping

BABES YOU FUCKIN KNOW IT

He would so pull up in a sexy car too-- like a Porsche 718 Boxster for nO REASON

Price: Krueger!? We called for an Evac, why are you here?!

Krueger: I'm the Evac.

Krueger: But only for Sweetheart.

Sweetheart: PARDON?!

(She squeals when she is picked up bridal style by Krueger)

Krueger: You all can find your way back yourselves. Bye

(They drive off, Sweetheart screaming at Krueger to wait while tf 141 looks in shock)

He's extremely in love with her, yall 💀 does some pretty crazy and dubious shit for her (HAVE I MENTIONED THAT HE STOLE A DIAMOND FOR HER)

[snickerdoodlles]

Loved your answer to the: "How would you rank the Theeranyakapuls in terms of clinginess?" ask. Can we have Kittisawats as well please?

(prev) (and ❤❤!!)

if the theerapanyakuls are "everything i've let go of has claw marks" boys, the kittisawats are "i will cling until it shatters in my grip"

Porsche: man does not let anything go except grudges. the only reason why he doesn't hold grudges is because he's too busy trying to hold onto EVERYTHING ELSE. Vegas is shooting him but Porsche refuses to lose a friend. Kinn fucks up crossing lines but Porsche won't let go of his cute smile. absolutely never would've taken up Kinn's demand he runs away because it'd mean letting Kinn go. bows to mafia recruitment before giving up his childhood home. Porsche is still holding onto a promise he made to his mother when he was like six years old max. i maintain the only reason why Porsche tells Arthee to go away is because he was already negotiating his mafia contract in his head and couldn't risk anything on Chay's safety because he knew he wouldn't be around, he never would've let Arthee just walk out of their life without those special circumstances. honestly this is such a large part of why Kinn and Porsche work together so perfectly, neither of them ever want to let go of their people and they collect people under their umbrellas at a downright alarming rate.

Chay: also clings to things until they shatter except he is extremely choosy in what he clings to. he has to be, he doesn't have a choice given how hard he loves and how little he has. as furious as he is with Porsche leaving him to join the mafia, he will bow and accept all of Porsche's choices so he can keep his brother. there's no other choice to him really. Chay's already shown he's willing to give up everything else for Porsche, from their home to his dreams to their uncle, and he can't have already drawn that line and then give up Porsche too right after he got him back. he clings to Kim just as hard until Kim shatters it-- i will always maintain Chay approaching Kim after the mafia reveal was just to confirm if he was reading Kim's feelings correctly (he was). Chay would've accepted the mafia and the scheming in a heartbeat so long as Kim's feelings for him were real (they were). Kim walks away from him then, but even then, that isn't what shatters them-- when Kim interrupts him at the club, Chay lets Kim pull him away. he is more than willing to hear Kim out then, he just wants to know if Kim cares (he does). except instead of explaining himself when Chay demands an explanation, Kim says "fine, i'll stay out of your business from now on." that's when Chay gives up Kim, because Kim keeps showing that he cares but claiming the opposite, and Chay can't hold onto someone to his typical degree of sacrifice if he doesn't think they'll stay in the end. that's why he blocks Kim. that's why "why don't you stay" is the perfect apology-- the song that first brought them together, the song they worked on together, the song where Kim lays himself bare to say "i have nothing to offer, i can't drag you into my mess, i desperately want you to be here with me anyways." of course that would reach Chay, who's only wish in life is that his two people stay with him through hell and fire and let him take care of them as much they take care of him. of course that'd open the door back up with Chay, who just wants Kim to explain how he cares and stay.

the kittisawats' clinginess is actually the heart of one of my most favorite kp story concepts ever, which is pushing the mafia aspect to the point where it shatters something in Chay and he has to leave. because Chay will give up so much to stay with Porsche. if he's pushed to the point where he leaves Porsche, either Chay has Kim to fall back on or Chay has nothing, and both options are so much fun for different reasons. and then for Porsche...oh my god, Porsche. Porsche holds onto everything, but his top priority is still Chay. a large part of why he can hold onto everything else is because Chay works so hard to make himself okay and hold Porsche back, so having Chay hit a point where he can't would destabilize Porsche so bad. sure, he has everything else, but what does that matter if he doesn't have Chay? Porsche and Chay are so tightly intertwined and so desperately clingy in the same way that even just straining their relationship brings all this out. "what happens when you can no longer hold onto the person you'd give up everything for?" is a delightfully crunchy story question and so good for these two especially ❤

[satzumosupremacy]

Elite Bodyguard Series: Pt.4 Side Story

Male reader x Tzuyu

Tags: Fluff, Smut talk, unedited

A/N: Short ss. Focuses on storyline only.

Tzuyu makes her way to your house after your call. You didn’t plan on her coming, instead you rather go to her, but she volunteered to come either way. You text Tzuyu the code to your gate and to the front door. You go back to lay down on your bed as you wait for her arrival.

You hear the dials at the door as Tzuyu types in the code. You become unknowingly eager for some reason and get up quick to open the door for Tzuyu. Your eyes meet each other, beautiful as she is while you get lost in her eyes. You begin to fall in love harder.

Tzuyu is wearing tight jeans and a white shirt. You guide her in as she walks behind you shyly. Tzuyu sits on your couch while you get her a cup of cold coffee that you made minutes ago.

“I want to know you more, Tzuyu.”

“Oh.” She smiles in the shyest way as you couldn’t help but also smiling shyly to her.

You assume she’s either playing hard or just casually giving you the shortest answer possible. You sit by her—far enough but to give her some comfort. Tzuyu takes a sip of coffee as you turn on the TV to a variety show that’s airing.

“This coffee is good, I like it.”

You stare at her side profile, every angle of her is beautiful as she takes another sip. “We don’t talk much, but I need to know you for important times.” You made a lame excuse.

“I want to know a different side of you, not a bodyguard. You’re very private sometimes.” Tzuyu said.

“I’m used to being private due to my background, but I want you to change it.”

“Oh,” She giggles. “If I can be helpful enough.”

“You want to play Jenga, Tzuyu?”

“Um, sure.”

You get up to grab the board game under the TV stand. You come back, seeing her hourglass figure even when she sits. You were unknowingly falling deep in love with her. “You know the rules right?”

“Yes.” She laughs.

You open the box and guide her to remove a block. You both take turns, having small conversations as you know her more. You take the lead, asking her questions and laugh with her.

“What do you do when you aren’t working?” Tzuyu asked you.

“Not much. Stay inside and go somewhere outside sometimes.”

“Oh.”

“You can go first. I’ll go second.”

Tzuyu removes a block and both take turns again until the tower becomes unstable. It’s now your turn and gently remove the block.

“Go easy on me.” Tzuyu laughs. You pause and stare right at her. You both stare into each other as it gets quiet. Tzuyu’s cheeks were already glowing by you looking at her. She easily removed a block. You give her a smile and knock the tower over purposely during your turn. “I didn’t tell you to go that easy on me.” Tzuyu laughs again.

The aura changes with her opening herself up slowly, the shyness of Tzuyu is going away slowly as you both keep playing Jenga. It’s now late in the evening as you have a time with Tzuyu.

“Oppa, can you show me around your house?” Tzuyu said.

“I can.” You give her your hand and she still accepts it. You get to feel her hands for the first time, it got your heart fluttered. Tzuyu’s heart beat rapidly holding your hands. You take her to your garage first and sees your cars.

“That’s a nice car. I like the blue color.” She points to your Porsche.

“You want to sit in it? You’re the first woman to see inside my house and get in my Porsche.”

“Okay.” She blushed.

You open the driver seat and she sits in it, amazed by how high end it is while she touches the carbon fiber parts. She makes cute faces that get you to smile as Tzuyu touches steering wheel.

“You’re cute, Tzuyu.”

She blushes more and sucks her lip with a visible smile and her dimples showing. You both stare at each other while she’s still sitting in your car and you holding the door frame. It’s been several seconds and she gets out, you give her space and she gets out to check the exterior.

Although you wanted to hold her hands, you take her around the house, to your bed, guest beds, and the backyard pool.

You take her to the closed room on the second floor. “Guess what room this is, Tzuyu.”

“Wine room?”

You sigh and chuckle, then open the door to the room. She’s surprised to see shiny badges and many photos. “I’ve never shown this to anyone.”

Tzuyu leads you into the room, looking at all the engraved words of each of your operations, photos, badges of honor, and all the uniforms.

“I’ve never seen you in military uniform. This is my first time.”

“How do I look in those pictures, Tzuyu?”

“Handsome.” Tzuyu said straightforwardly and continues to stare at everything curiously. You follow behind her, explaining what you can.

Time passed by fast although it felt like hours with Tzuyu. The evening was just talking to her. You flirted with her and made her laugh and smile. After all the talking, you’re sitting right next to her comfortably.

“Just call me, Tzu.”

“Tzu…Tzu. It’s cute.”

“Are you free tomorrow, Oppa? I have a schedule later.”

“I am. Let me take you home.”

“Come over tomorrow since I came here today, Oppa.”

“Okay, Tzu.” You smiled.

——

“You’re beautiful today, Tzu.” You said as you stepped inside her house. “Dahyun is out?”

“She went over to Jeongyeon.”

She beckons you to come sit on the couch and you sat right next to her.

“Tzu. I think we need to have a talk.”

“I’m all ears, Oppa.”

You took a deep breath, “Do you have a different image of me after sleeping with your members?”

Tzuyu nods, “No, why would you say that, Oppa?”

And you continue to stare at her, unable to read her nonchalant expression, “I would end this just to be with you, Tzu.”

“Is it weird to say I like you, Oppa? I always try to hide it but i think it’s safe to say we’re interested in each other.”

“I really want you, Tzu. Be my girlfriend,” you said straightforwardly. “I’ll move at your pace, but just know that I’m yours at the end of the day.”

The mood becomes embarrassing to you, the fact that you’re confessing straightforwardly.

“By my boyfriend, Oppa. I don’t care who you’re sleeping with.”

“Why are you doing this to me, Tzu.” You said in a gentle manner and chuckled at her smiling right at you.

“Am I too pretty for you, Oppa?” She laughs and you laughed also.

The thought of having sex with Tzuyu wasn’t what you wanted yet. You’re willing to move at her pace through whatever.

“You’re lips look kissable, Tzu.” And you get closer to her face. Tzuyu’s heart starts racing, and so did yours.

Somehow in a way, your heart always races differently around her. Sana, Momo, and Jihyo didn’t make your heart race like Tzuyu.

Tzuyu closes her eyes, accepting whatever your going to do. And you gave her a quick kiss. Tzuyu’s face becomes red, glowing right in the beaming sun from the windows.

“Tzu. What do you want to do today?”

“Let’s watch a movie. Stay with me today. But I’m not ready for…”

“It’s okay, Tzu.” You cut her off, knowing what she meant. “We don’t have to move this quickly.”

“Are you always like this? I only seen the manly side of you. But I like how soft you are when you’re around me.”

“It’s because you’re making me go crazy, and I can’t stand it but be like this around you, Tzu.”

“That’s cute. Well, I’ll get some blankets and we can watch the movie.” You nod and she goes to bring blankets.

Cuddling was the only thing happening between you two while watching the movie. An hour into the movie, she’s on top of you sleeping in the afternoon. You unknowingly fell asleep after she did. The movie wasn’t paused at all.

While sleeping and the movie reaching the credit scene, Dahyun comes back, seeing you and Tzuyu all cuddled up.

You heard her walking towards the kitchen and got up.

“Hi, Oppa.” Dahyun greeted you.

“Hey. When did you get back?”

Tzuyu wakes up, embarrassed to see Dahyun seeing what happened and remained silent.

“I just got back minutes ago. Don’t mind me. Treat Tzuyu well.” It doesn’t take much knowledge for Dahyun to know the relationship. “The bed is off limits here, Oppa. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks, Dahyun. And I understand.”

You can tell Tzuyu is embarrassed as her face becomes planted onto your chest. You tap her back gently.

“Oppa, don’t you think Sana is too obsessed with you?” Dahyun questions.

“What are you trying to say?”

“If you push Sana away, she’s only come right back. If you know what I mean.”

“It’s not like I can really do anything about it, Dahyun.”

“That’s kinda true. When was the last time you slept with Sana?”

“Let’s not talk about it, Dahyun. I don’t want Tzu to hear this.”

“It’s okay, Oppa.” Tzuyu replied.

“Tzu is okay, I’m just curious.” Dahyun said and sat closer. “I bet Sana will fall for you if you keep giving Sana what she wants.”

“Don’t jump into conclusions, but you really aren’t wrong, Dahyun. I was with Sana a couple days ago.”

“Would you able to handle two women in love with you, Oppa? I’m just worried.”

You’re silent, patting Tzuyu’s back and coming up with an answer. And you didn’t mind Dahyun giving you a slight lecture, it was very eye opening that she did.

“At the end of the day, it’s Tzuyu that I want and need. I don’t know what the future holds.”

“Tzu looks like she isn’t against it at all…somehow not answering.”

[svcredveins]

An introduction to myself!

So first things first, I’m 22 and female. Was so unsure to post on here since I’ve created this account three years ago to share my heartbeat. I have also a huge passion of mine - to become a Porsche factory driver in the coming future.

So bear with clips here and there, I do feel weird though doing this to the public but hey, we’re all heart lovers right?

Anyway, reason is to actually just check up on myself every once in awhile and see how my little lady is doing and appreciate her. I’ve struggled with a lot of things in my life with responsibilities to my own health and with this motivation to check up on myself. I definitely need to workout. And since becoming a Porsche factory driver is my dream, as a sim racer, I need to workout anyway because once I get my pedals and foldable rig, I have to workout because my little arms and legs will not bode well after 20 minutes of driving haha. For now I’m just on a controller.

So with this account made, I must be more aware of myself and even not just physically, but mentally too. Even though this is to the world, seeing others share their heartbeats is a reminder to myself to appreciate how our bodies were made and on how fascinating the human body is and what it’s capabile of. Also with the idea of more self acceptance for myself that I am living and breathing human being with a heartbeat and that it’s okay to fail. This alone will help me go a long way with that mindset for my sim racing as well! Hehe. Sorry. I love my racing. But! There’s also something to add on to that.

The dream

I’ve always been the type of girl to love speed. Anything that gets my heart racing (pun intended) I enjoy. The sheer thrill of going over the edge and that is where I found my biggest passion - sports car racing. The adrenaline, the awareness of knowing your putting your body over the edge, the unknown of what will happen when battling against another driver...I love that feeling and racing gives me that feeling and it bugs me everyday knowing that I am currently unable to race due to money, however, that is my dream and I strive to achieve it!

You need to be so fit for and that includes being aware of your breathing and heart rate. But oh to go so fast around a track over 200kmh feeling like everything around you is going by slowly. Heart pounding, breathing heavily, heavy focus on one goal - to win...yes! Give me my Porsche GT3 Cup, GT3 R, and 963! Let’s go!

Two passions intertwined

So since I was a little girl, I’ve also had those rare occasions where I felt my heartbeat. It’s always interested me feeling the “lub dub” in my chest. These things just began to intertwine for me and it’s actually perfect because since I love the sense of speed and adrenaline with it, my dream job is to be a cardiothorasic surgeon and that makes a lot of money’s worth to get into sports car racing which is definitely expensive as ever! So that will indefinitely support my biggest passion. Two passions in one? Crazy right?! I’m very excited for my future, despite my personal mental issues, but I am a huge dreamer so that’s my goal. I’m trying to work through it!

I’m aiming to get a stemoscope and a pulse oximeter. I would love to record my little lady working hard during my sim racing sessions! I just need the proper equipment to do it with a chest monitor strap.

Thank you for reading this far if you have. As you can tell I am super passionate about both!

Editing

Fun fact about me, I also do editing! I do photo and video edits and have been doing it for about 8 years. Time has flown by quickly!

The photo above is the Porsche 963 behind the human heart, portraying my passion for Porsche and the strong desire to become their factory driver.

My heart

I’ll try to say some info about my little lady.

She is a strong one with fire in her arteries. After getting an annual medical checkup about a year ago, my doctor remarked that I have a strong heart which was actually comforting to hear from her not gonna lie, knowing that my little lady is a strong and healthy one!

Strong and healthy speaks loudly about my passion for Porsche and racing for them as a factor driver, and that’s actually really heartwarming thinking about it because of how much of a passionate type person I am so it’s remarkable how she beats so strong and confident! I cherish that.

Cardiophilia intentions

I’m more on the light hearted (no pun intended) side of the cardiophilia. I just enjoy the functionality of the heart, and being fascinated with it, but I don’t mind some dark cardiopheila. It does, however, have limits. A lot of limits.

I have done a fanfic back in 2018 where I guess you could call it more on the dark side, but I do not involve myself physically in any of that, nor do I condone it. I’ll definitely write dark cardiophilia in some sort of form in books which I have in the past, as I’ve mentioned earlier, so anything else, I keep my little lady all out of harms way and treat her nicely. No resus, pressure, or poking. I do breathholds at times though, but other than that, I have one little heart so I must treat her well as she should be treated.

[miguelswifey04]

omg pretty please can we have a sugar daddy miguel x reader where it’s who keeps on denying on Miguel buying them stuff because they feel bad using his money (^｡^) and Miguel’s who’s really sweet and insist on buying em stuff and one day they go on a date in the mall and almost fight because miggy wants to buy them Chanel or Dior and reader feels guilty for using his money (*ﾟ▽ﾟ*) hehe can we have this please

LOVE this! i <3 this take where the sugar baby doesn`t want to be spoiled IG that much...even though that`s the point yk ☹️

miguel was one of a kind, and he was not just any ordinary sugar daddy to say the least. you on the other hand didn’t quite like when he’d spend money on you for unnecessary things. and you know that the whole point of having a sugar daddy is to get spoiled and get taken care of. you appreciated that miguel has given you the finicial liberty to be stabled and let him take care of the most IMPORTANT things that required miguel’s attention and money.

the only reason you had a sugar daddy was not necessarily because you were in dire need of money. you somewhat had money of your own but it was because you were lonely…you craved the companionship, the attention, the physical aspect of relationships, and love. you were a recluse and a “nobody” under the eyes of the world but to miguel you were his everything. miguel had always been generous, showering you with his affection and wanting nothing more than to just make you the happiest person in the universe. but there was one thing about him that made you feel conflicted - his desire to spoil you with expensive gifts and treat you like a princess. you didn't want to be labeled as his "sugar baby," nor did you want to take advantage of his wealth. so, you often found yourself refusing his offers, much to his dismay.

So on one sunny day, miguel took him upon himself to drive you around in his Porsche 911 Carrera Gt3. miguel had one hand on the steering wheel while his right hand was squeezing your thigh lovingly. his fingertips gently brushed against the curves of your thighs and gently squeezed the plush side of it. he side glanced at you and you noticed him smiling at him. “so, i was thinking of taking you out on a date to the mall,” he spoke with dignity and excitement because he was going to try to spoil you whether you liked it or not. his focus was on the road mainly but he stole a few glances admiring your beauty and your peaceful nature. you nodded slightly taking in his suggestion with caution, “mmkay! sure, i`d love that very much.” Miguel’s happily nodded and took you to a fancy mall.

the vibrant atmosphere buzzed around you as the two of you strolled hand in hand, window shopping and enjoying each other's company. however, tension began to brew when you passed by high-end stores like Chanel and Dior. you exactly knew why he had brought you there stopping abruptly which made miguel slightly stumble on his feet. you let out a sigh of guilt, “miguel, i appreciate the gesture, but i can’t let you spend so much on me,” your voice was full of guilt. “i don’t want you to feel like you have to buy me expensive things.”

miguel heard you and frowned, his expression was clouded with concern. “but, sweetheart, i want to spoil you. it’s not about obligation or impressing you—it’s about expressing my love and making you feel special. let me do this for you, for favor.” you felt your heart strings being pulled because you could tell miguel was being genuine and sincere. you sighed, torn between your desire to please him and your internal struggles. “i understand, but i can’t help but feel guilty. i don’t want our relationship to revolve around materialistic things. it is the love and connection that matters most to me.” you gently squeezed his hand and pulled him closer.

a soft smile tugged at the corners of miguel's lips as he gently cupped your cheeks, his eyes filled with sincerity. “you don't have to worry about that, cariño. trust me when i say that my love for you isn't tied to material things. but allowing me to spoil you from time to time doesn't diminish the value of our connection."

his words resonated deep within you, and you couldn't help but lean into his touch. despite your reservations, you understood that miguel's intentions were pure and driven by his immense affection for you.

“okay, miguel," you finally relented, your voice filled with a mix of gratitude and love. “i’ll give it a try, but let's remember that the most important thing is our love and the moments we share together."

a genuine smile spread across miguel's face, his eyes shining with happiness. “absolutely, mi amor. our love will always be the foundation. the rest is just a bonus."

you date, exploring the mall hand in hand, and this time, you let miguel spoil you with his affectionate gestures and small, meaningful gifts. because in the end, you realized that accepting his generosity didn't mean losing sight of the true nature of your relationship—it simply allowed you to revel in the love he had for you, in all its extravagant and tender forms.

[kinnporsche]

what is this? another kinn & porsche rec list by tumblr user kinnporsche? it’s more likely than you think! it seems that i literally can’t stop—it’s been an entire year since the finale and i’m still stuck in my self-imposed 24/7 kinnporsche lockdown. so, here’s a bunch more fics that are currently making life worth living for me. once again, this list is ordered according to length (from longest to shortest), and each fic is by a different author (to spread the love)! all fics that are not yet complete have been marked with (wip). lastly, make sure to read the tags, and show the authors some love, because they’re doing the lord’s work! god fucking bless. [part 6/?]

— self-fulfilling prophecy by lazulialekto – explicit / 119.4k words

Porsche stepped forward, dragging his eyes from Kinn’s chest, immediately concerned, “will things go sideways?”

Kinn grimaced, grabbing his glass of whiskey and taking a large swig of the amber liquid. “They often do, especially lately.” His glass clinked as he set it back down, then his hand was running down his face, stressed.

Porsche moved closer, sitting beside him, ignoring protocol completely. “If it’s that dangerous for you to go, can’t you just… not, or change the venue, or something?”

“And let them know I’m worried?” Kinn laughed bitterly as he let his hand drop down to his thigh, the Theerapanyakul family ring glinting in the light of the lamp in the corner. “I can’t do that. In this business a great deal rides on appearances. If I look weak to them, I won’t be the only target.”

— be the best you ever tasted by martynax – explicit / 90.9k words

“What’s your name, darling?” he questions.

“Jom,” Porsche replies after a moment, it makes a snort pass through Kinn’s lips.

“You don’t look like a Jom. Forgive me for repeating myself but you’re a shit liar,” he says once more. He still looks amused, like Porsche is telling jokes. Porsche presses his lips together stubbornly, which makes a small smirk appear on Kinn’s lips; he looks delighted for some reason. “Tell you what, darling, you tell me your name and I will end the session now. How about it?”

(Or: AU where Porsche’s life is shit so he shakes his perky little butt for strangers at a strip club and Kinn books him for a private show.)

— the situationship by verses – explicit / 87.2k words (wip)

“What about kissing?” Porsche asked, and his heart did a weird thing where it twisted all the way around his lungs and then plunged to his stomach.

Kinn raised a brow at that. “What about kissing? I feel like as the resident straight boy here, you should take the lead on this conversation.”

Porsche swallowed. “Well, do you kiss your boyfriends? In front of your friends and family?”

Kinn shrugged, and for once, the movement didn’t seem entirely effortless. “Sometimes.”

“Okay, then,” Porsche said, licking his suddenly dry lips. With tingly fingers, he added to the contract: ‘Non-sexual kissing allowed to fool participant K’s brother.’

(Or: Kinn, under pressure from the patriarch of the Theerapanyakul family, entices Porsche to enter a fake, contractual relationship with him. In return, Porsche gets money, a sexuality crisis, and a headache.)

— tiger bite by verbana – explicit / 54.7k words

Kinn leaned in, raking him over with his eyes. It felt like hovering over turbulent waters, daring a wave to come and sweep him down. “What are you gonna do to make me remember?”

Porsche reached up and slid a hand through the gap in Kinn’s shirt. Two fingers traced under his left collarbone. “I’ll tattoo my name here. Then all your hookups will have to stop and ask, who’s this?”

“And what should I tell them?” Their faces were too close. Porsche’s fingertips felt like they were plugged directly into his nervous system, lighting up every cell in his body. Red warning lights started flashing in the back of Kinn’s brain but he didn’t care, couldn’t care.

— twelve, twenty, almost thirty by just2wings – explicit / 34.2k words

Kinn is twelve when he falls for the boy with the bubbly laugh and fiery brown eyes, the only one who’s ever been able to pin him to the ground during taekwondo practice.

Kinn is twenty when he runs into him in the school gym, and then again in some shady alley. He falls in love all over again on a golden-lit pier, and then remembers all the reasons he shouldn’t.

Kinn is pushing thirty when he falls into a familiar, handsome bartender’s orbit again, and finally learns to ask for what he wants.

— insatiable by thewayside – explicit / 22k words (wip)

He squints to get a closer look at it and the faintest aroma hits his nose; soft and delicate like cherry blossom petals and cloying like simple syrup they keep in the bar.

(Or: Porsche steals a watch and gets kidnapped by a stinky alpha who maybe isn’t an alpha at all. What should be a one-time thing becomes bigger than either of them realizes.)

— the shape of you fitting me by nuwildcat – explicit / 18.5k words

They say that a person’s scent is a mark of compatibility. The better someone else smells to you, the stronger a bond between you will be. Porsche has smelled a lot of people working as a bartender, and many more intimately in his free time. But he’s never smelt something like this before. The scent of this omega calls to him, tempting and consuming. It’s the kind of scent that makes him inclined to think the aunties were right about destined mates.

And then he meets the omega tied to that scent, and everything just fits.

— he wants more than a tip, i’m not talking about guidance by haeseolar – explicit / 18.1k words

“Everyone, get out.”

The temperature in the room suddenly drops, everything turning still at the sound of Kinn’s voice ringing out, stopping everyone dead in their tracks and slicing right through to them. It’s so silent that you could hear a pin drop, nobody daring to make a move just yet.

“Didn’t you all hear me? Out!” Kinn shouts, nostrils flaring and voice devoid of any of the previous calm he had.

Everyone goes into motion then, even Chan who takes the hint and goes to join the crowd in leaving the gym. Porsche straightens himself up, still clutching over the left side of his chest as he joins the rest in filing out through the doors.

“Not you, Porsche. You stay here.”

— off to the races by mirrorofprinces – explicit / 17k words (wip)

“So, what is it that you do?” Porsche asks. “Have you always been attending the swanky events I bartend at, and I just never noticed?”

Kinn chuckles, the deep timbre of it going straight down Porsche’s spine. “Trust me, if I had ever seen you before, I would have introduced myself earlier.”

— like a serpent coiling around your throat by darkknight – explicit / 9.8k words

“Will I have to beat you into submission?” Porsche said, his voice raspy as he pinned Kinn under him.

Kinn spat at him, specks of blood coating Porsche’s face. “You can try,” he said, turning on his side to take Porsche with him as he kicked out his leg, hitting Porsche in the thigh.

The other man groaned, but quickly punched Kinn in the throat, making the breath leave him as he stood up and pressed a foot down in the middle of Kinn’s chest. The hard leather of Porsche’s shoes digging uncomfortably against his bare skin.

“Khun Kinn, always needing to be in control, but wouldn’t it be such a relief if you. Just. Let. Go?” he said, stressing the last three words by pressing his foot down harder against Kinn’s chest, making his breath come out in a harsh wheeze.

“Fuck. You."

(Or: AU where Porsche is a Yakuza boss and Kinn hates his guts.)

— consider the hairpin turn by concernedlily – explicit / 9k words

“I’m starting to think you like being punished,” Kinn says, sitting primly on his pristine couch, legs crossed.

— i always know by reason_to_write – mature / 8.3k words

His words stuck in his throat. He barely forced it out.

“Kinn…”

Immediately, even with the terrible reception quality, he could sense the shift in atmosphere on the other end of the line. In his mind’s eye, he saw the fearsome mafia leader stop mid-stride and heard the sharp intake of breath. When the voice spoke again, it couldn’t have been gentler.

“Tell me where you are.”

(Or: Porsche gets kidnapped, but Kinn is coming.)

— on the nature of trust by fortunehasgivenup – explicit / 6.1k words

They don’t stop clutching at each other right away.

Even if Porsche had tried, Kinn doesn’t think that he would allow it. He needs to be pressed up against as much of Porsche as he can.

If Porsche is holding on, he stills loves Kinn.

(Or: The aftermath of the iconic bathroom scene—set between episodes 7 and 8.)

— i’ll never surrender (my control over you) by luckydragon – explicit / 5.9k words

Bottoming doesn’t come naturally to Kinn, but he knows how to get what he needs.

— second skin by vesna (mrsronweasley) – explicit / 3k words

By the time they make it back to the house, accompanied by Pete and Arm, Porsche should be exhausted. All the alcohol burned off in his system from the adrenaline of Kinn blowing into the bathroom with a gun and backup, leaving him with a crystalline sort of clarity. That, more than anything, makes him feel wide awake.

[carolmunson]

once bitten, twice shy (pbv!steve x f!thick reader)

finally, we made it. been writing this since october with breaks in between. if you're new to the pbv!steve universe (which is just an incredibly wealthy big money version of steve), i'd recommend reading 'peanut butter vibe' first.

here, steve invites his thick hottie bestie (you, who we're calling natalie because i HATE 'y/n') to his office holiday party. this fic has everything: sugardaddy!steve, casual dominance, office sex, unrequited love, some guy named rob -- anyway, enjoy. warnings/content prev: piv sex (protected), fingering/oral (f receiving), mentions of oral (m receiving) some angst/unrequited feelings, casual dominance, light spanking, office sex, sort of a 'boss' kink?? idk what to call it, rich people behavior, snide comments about thick!reader but not really about her body, some body descriptions but nothing wild, mentions of clothing sizes, lots of fluff, steve is a hot hot hottie throughout. little christmas light dividers by @newlips

“Is it fancy?” you ask, “I don’t really have anything to wear to a cocktail party.”

“Is it fancy?” you ask, “I don’t really have anything to wear to a cocktail party.”

“Is it fancy?” you ask, “I don’t really have anything to wear to a cocktail party.”

“I’ll take you to get something tomorrow,” he insists.

“I can buy my own dress, Steve,” you sigh, he can hear the eye roll through the phone.

“Yeah, yeah, everyone in Indiana knows you can buy your own dress, Manhattan, we get it,” Steve’s eye roll is even more audible than yours, “But you only have to get one because I’m asking you to come to this party. Let me get it for you.”

“Steve,” you scold, “No.”

“I have to finish shopping anyway — don’t you still have to finish getting gifts for your niece? We can go to the mall, two birds one stone!” he quickly adds. He hopes the thought of your niece’s tiny toes in some new little socks or a cute little outfit will soften you up.

“The mall is going to be a mess, Steve. It’s the weekend before Christmas,” you complain.

“We can go to a boutique or something,” he counters, determined to get you in a dress so you had no reason not to go to this party.

“Boutiques in Indiana aren’t making dresses for girls like me, Harrington,” you laugh, he doesn’t. He’s quiet for a moment until you hear his signature aggravated sigh come through the ear piece.

“You can just say you don’t wanna come,” his voice sounds slightly sullen, “Just wanted to show you the office, since you won’t get a chance to see it after I move.”

“It’s not that I don’t wanna come, Steve,” you say softly, “It’s just..it’s what it implies.”

“It doesn’t have to imply anything! Can’t you just come have fun with me? It’ll be so fun, I promise!” there’s a mild whine to his claim and you have to stifle a laugh.

Breaking News in Indiana: Poor little rich boy wants his big booty Barbie to play with at a party — throws minor tantrum when he might not get what he wants! "Fine, fine, Jesus Christ," you tease, "You're so annoying when you get whiny."

"So I'll pick you up in the morning? Is nine okay?" he asks, voice back to his regular charm. "Yeah, that's fine," you start, "Wait, we're not taking the Porsche to the mall, are we?" "Uh, yeah?" he replies, confused, "Did you want me to take a different car?" "Ugh, Steve that's so tooly," you moan, "You're such a tool."

"I'm about to uninvite you," he huffs, "Do you want me to buy you something pretty tomorrow or--" "I can buy my own dress," you yell over him. He lets out another aggravated sigh. "Tomorrow, nine, in the Porsche," he says finally, you hear the click of the dial tone as soon as he finishes speaking.

The Porsche rolls up at 8:58 and he knows better than to honk the horn, lest he wake your sister's newborn. Instead, he parks and walks up to the porch of your sister's house; knocking on the door and waiting for you with his hands clasped behind his back. When the door opens, he's surprised to see your mom behind it. She smiles, big and warm. She looks familiar, definitely a face in the stands at basketball games because your older sister Carly was a cheerleader. She was a senior when you were both freshman, before Steve was King Steve. "Oh, hi. You must be Steven," she whispers, when the door opens further he spots your little niece propped up high on your mom's chest, "I'm Maureen. Come in, come in. S'way too cold to be standing out here." "Thanks, thank you," he smiles, the kind of smile that makes mom's melt. Steve takes a step inside and your mom steps back, patting the baby's back to burp her. He wipes his shoes on the welcome mat and undoes the buttons on his Hugo Boss wool coat. His cashmere scarf hung loosely over his shoulders down his chest. "I've heard so much about you. Nat should be out in a second," heat blooming in her cheeks, "Make yourself comfortable." Maureen disappears into the kitchen but he can hear the gurgles of your niece and your mom's little titters to her. He leans on the back of the couch, the house smells like you and his heart swells. So this is what it looks like when you go inside after he drops you off. This is where you go when you're not with him. It feels like a secret he's not supposed to know. "Oh, hi, you're in my house," his eyes snap up when he hears your voice. His teeth shine through his smile, he waves with a leather gloved hand. "Good morning," he says, his voice is low and warm. Your heartrate speeds up when he says it. It's awkward when you walk up to him, unsure if you should hug or kiss on the cheek. It's normally never awkward, but you're always meeting at the bar or in his car. He's never been so...available at the first greeting. You don't want to kiss in front of your mom because then she'll have questions. She already asks too many about Steve to begin with. He scans you, your white sweater and jeans, square toe brown boots on your feet. You reach for a black parka on the coat rack and a scarf that he recognizes as a polyblend. He makes a mental note to get you a cashmere one when you're not paying attention. "Good morning," you reply, shrugging the coat on and tossing the scarf around your neck sloppily. He walks towards you, tutting while he does, reaching out to flip your hair out from under the scarf. He readjusts the material so it lays neater against you, tucked in and under the jacket so you actually stay warm. "Gonna freeze if you don't wear it right," he sing songs, shaking his head while he works. "Okay dad," you roll your eyes, swatting his hands away when he goes to zip up your coat, "I can do it." You don't zip your parka up, instead you peek your head into the kitchen and whisper a quick goodbye to your mom and your niece. Maureen appears with the baby again and says a motherly goodbye and 'Merry Christmas' to Steve. "It's very nice to finally meet you, Maureen," he almost flirts, "Have a Merry Christmas." She winks at you when he turns towards the door, mouthing a very enthusiastic 'He's cute.'

You have half a mind to say, 'Yeah, he knows. That's what's so infuriating.' But you think it, instead. You opt to mouth a simple 'Stop,' at her before following him outside towards the car. "You're mom's so sweet," he says when he gets to the side walk from your porch, hand immediately coming out to support you down the icy steps, "Careful." "There's a railing," you explain, using him for support, "It's there so I don't fall." "Well, you're holding my hand anyway, so," he shrugs. You bristle at his coolness, always so slick even when it's innocent. He's so hateable, it's almost unfair how excited he makes you. "As I was saying," he starts again when you make it to the end of the stairs, "Your mom's so nice." "Maureen? Yeah, she's a sweetie," you agree when you get the passenger door. He reaches past you to open it, and in doing so has you chest to chest with him. He lingers there for a moment, looking at you down the slope of his nose. He cocks his head, eyes a little hard, lips pulling into a smirk. "So what happened to you, then?" he teases, lips dangerously close to yours. You catch your mom peaking out of the living room window and sink down into the open door onto the leather seat. "Shut up," you huff, "You're not funny." "I'm so funny," he corrects, shutting the door, appearing on the drivers side moments later. "The stores don't open for at least an hour," you say, buckling into the seat, "Why'd you wanna leave so early?" "Thought we could get breakfast first," he shrugs, looking your over in the passengers side. He bites his lip, eyes flitting from your thighs to your face, "You look nice."

"It's nine in the morning Harrington, keep it in your pants," you shove his shoulder and he grins while he puts his attention back on the road, pulling forward away from the sidewalk. "It's 9:07 actually," he says, aloof, hand resting on your inner thigh once he had his bearings on the road infront of him, "You're so warm." "Perks of big thighs, I guess," you shrug, "You're wearing gloves though, I think that helps." "Nah, your thighs are just warm," he grins again, "Haven't had to buy ear muffs for the last five years cause'a them."

"You're so gross," you turn to him as you say it, exasperated. The car rolls to a stop at a redlight and he turns to look at you. "I'm so gross, huh?" he asks, leaning in. His hand floating from your thigh to under your chin. The leather is smooth on your skin, you can smell his cologne as he moves closer, "S'that why you want me to kiss you so bad?" "I think you wanna kiss me so bad," you tease back. His lips catch yours, fingers gently wrapping around your jaw as they do. The leather sinks into your full cheeks, flush from the cold and the way his mouth fits against yours. His nose bumps your cheek and your ungloved hand finds his, you can feel the smoothness from his shave this morning. Smell his moisturizer, his shaving cream. Taste the mint from his mouth wash in your mouth. A soft hum leaks from your chest and you feel him smile into the kiss before he breaks away, the light turning green against the white cloudy sky. "You're right, I did wanna kiss you so bad," he admits. His hand falls right back on your thigh, hitting the gas to pull onto the highway.

You'd been at it for a couple of hours now, store after store, the mall littered with families and screaming children. "We can go to the west wing. I don't know why you keep avoiding it," he chides. He puts all the shopping bags you've both already accumulated into the hand furthest from you, offering you the empty one. You take it, your other hand empty since he wouldn't let you carry your own bags. "That's the nice part of the mall," you say, "I don't want to spend that much on a dress for one night."

"Then it's a good thing you're not spending any money on it," he smiles. "Steven," you chide, "Enough, pl--" "Don't use that voice with me. I told you a thousand times I want to get you something pretty. So we're getting you something pretty," he urges, "Let's go." The west wing has all the fancy stores in it. Luxury brands, far stretches from Kay Jewelers and JC Penney. You aren't sure if they even carry your size in stores like this, but maybe you'll be surprised. It's not long before he has you in a dressing room, working with the attendants and tossing dress after dress in behind the curtain. Steve sits on one of the waiting area couches with the rest of the men. Your purse and coat is on his lap, the shopping bags resting between his feet. You poke your head out after the fourth dress, looking for an attendant but they're all busy. He notices your nervous face and waves to get your attention. "Need help?" he asks. You flush. "Can you get this zipper for me? It's not a side zipper so I can't reach," you ask. He nods, slinging your purse over himself with the cross body strap, asking the guy next to him to watch the bags with a quick 'Would you mind, chief? Thanks a million.' He comes up to the curtain and sees the front of the dress, red bursting to his cheeks, tinging his ears, "Good fucking lord." "Oh stop it," you blush back. You turn around and zips up the dress, some resistance meeting at the top. You walk closer to the mirror and inspect yourself, scrunching your face at your reflecting. "You don't like it?" he asks with a frown. "It's just not me," you shrug, "It's a little tight, and I don't want to be thinking about that the whole time, y'know?"

He nods, looking over his shoulder to see a dress on the 'put away' rack, dark green and off the shoulder. The style a mix between Herve Leger and vintage Dior. "Ma'am," he calls out when he sees an attendant walk by, "Would you mind pulling that dress for me? The green one?" She scans her hand over the rack and points at it, reading out the size. "That's perfect, actually," he smiles, that winning Harrington smile that makes the girls melt, "Thank you." "You're very welcome," she says sweetly, posture straightening when she brings it over. You peak back out and he turns you around to start the zipper down on the number you'd just tried on. "You look so good in green, try this one," he says, passing it to you, "Very Hawkins High." You hold it up in front of you and consider, it's a bodycon but still somehow classic looking. A velvet piece that you wouldn't have picked out yourself. "Hm, okay, I'll try it," you say, turning to him with a furrowed brow, "Now get out, perv." He smiles, closing the curtain carefully and retreating back to the couches, "Thanks for watching the bags, man." The guy smiles, "Us husbands gotta look out for each other, right?"

Steve bites his lip in a toothy grin, nodding, "Yeah, for sure."

"How long you been married?" he asked. "Few years," he lies, it's fun to lie when people have asked about you before. He'd get comments every now and again at Porter's, have chats with bar stoll warmers about you like you'd been together forever. "Few years? You look like babies," he laughs, the gray smattered in the man's hair shines in the pristine white lights of the store. "When you know, you know," Steve shrugs. The man nods, "They do say that, don't they? Well, I'll give ya a little advice. Fifteen years down the line, here -- they aren't lying when they say 'happy wife, happy life'. So just, y'know, do whatever she says and you're golden." "Great advice, honey," a woman's voice coo's above them. Steve sees her Vivienne Westwood shoes first, head tilting up to see a very expensive woman in front of him. She has a few dresses in her hand that he immediately stands up and takes from her. "Merry Christmas, kid," he says while they head out, the wife nods toward Steve in acknowledgement and he gives them a small wave. "Oh Steve, this is it, this is the one," you say, stepping out of the dressing room with the dress in your arm, the 'no's' in the other. His shoulders slump, "You didn't even let me see it."

"It'll be a surprise. You'll see it tomorrow night," you smile. He instinctively gets up and takes the dresses you don't want to hang up them for you on the rack. You exchange them for your purse and jacket, scarf previously abandoned in a shopping bag. "You all set to go? You have any other shopping you wanna do?" you ask.

"Hmm," he thinks, "Let's stop by jewelry first."

"Something for your mom?" you ask, putting your parka back on. "Something for you," he says, "To go with that dress."

"No, no, I have jewelry at home. I'll ask my mom if I can borrow something," you wave your hand off at him while you walk out of the dressing area and back into the store together. "Hey, hey," he shushes you, raising his neck to look into your eyes, "Let me spoil you a little, okay?"

"You already got me a new scarf and gloves," you say earnestly, "It's too much, Steve."

"You needed a new scarf and gloves," he says knowingly, "Let's get you a necklace to go with that dress, hm? You need shoes, too?" "I'm drawing the line at shoes," you warn, putting your purse over yourself while you walk through the beauty section, "I brought plenty of shoes with me."

He shrugs, "Suit yourelf."

Monday night comes quicker than expected, but you'd stayed the night at Steve's after shopping, only to wake up in the late morning with him the next day. You'd been up late fucking mercilessly wrapping gifts with each other, teaching him how to curl ribbon, watching him fold wrapping paper with obscene precision. The only reason you went home is because he had to go into the office to finish up some reports. You arrive around seven-thirty, a little late but still there, heels clicking on the marble floor of the lobby -- and there he is, waiting for you behind the turnstyles to the elevators -- suit jacket fitting him almost criminally.

"Fashionably late?" he teases, opening the side gate to let you through to him, "Everyone thinks my date stood me up."

"Oh, I'm sure your secretary will be so disappointed to know I'm here," you joke back.

"I don't fuck my secretary," he shakes his head, hitting the call button, "I fuck Rob's secretary. God, do you ever listen to me when I talk?"

Rob, Steve's work nemesis.

"Oh forgive me, there's so only many office flings I can keep up with," you say, stepping into the elevator. You take off your scarf from under your coat, revealing the necklace Steve bought you at the mall. He smiles to himself, seeing your adorned by his gifts. The scarf, the necklace, the gloves. He's excited to see the dress, it's all he thought about today. When you get the floor of the party, you wince a bit at the noise. It's rowdy, a lot of the men are already drunk. And boy is it, fancy. Men in suits, women is cocktail dresses in sky-high heels, hair in big blowouts with glowing gold and silver jewelry. You're suddenly thankful for the necklace Steve bought you. You'd been around your fair share of fancy in New York, but never really living it outside of your own work holiday parties. Sometimes you forget that this is Steve's day to day. "The actual offices are the next floors up, this is just our meeting hall. They really go all out, huh?" he smiles, "Let me bring you to coat check." On the walk to coat check you scan the room, it's decked out in gold and red. Ten foot Christmas trees sit in every corner, draped in garland, ribbon, and tinsel. Lights leaving a soft glow out of the floor to ceiling windows of the room. Intricately placed curtains of warm white christmas lights hang from the ceiling, dress the walls and windows. The room is a halo, glowing and warm. In the center of the room is the open dance floor, flanked by tables covered in white cloths -- drinks already littering them. Speakers boom top 40 and Christmas music, chatter and laughter booms over it.

"Here, let me get it," he says when you reach the coat check area, a little set up of a few racks with a sweet woman at a table, writing out tickets for you to keep track of for the end of the night. He undoes the buttons of your coat and you shrug it off slowly. His eyes round and he gulps, mouth going dry at the sight of you.

"Jesus Christ," he breathes out, pulling your coat back over you, "You can't be serious rigt now."

"What?" you ask, suddenly self concious, "Does it look bad?"

"No, oh my god, no, it's..." he pulls your coat away again and sucks in a sharp intake of breath, "If I knew you were gonna look like this, I wouldn't have let you wear it here. Can't have everyone looking at you when you're here with me."

He looks you over, the way your breasts sit in the sweetheart neckline, how tightly it clings to your curves, the shape of your hipes, the outline of your belly in the fabric. He licks his lips, knowing he's not strong enough to see you from the back just yet.

"God damn," he shakes his head, "You're gonna kill me." "Well, you look very handsome too," the compliment is genuine but it doesn't register for him. He's busy looking at your glossed lips, the necklace places perfectly above your chest, the smell of your perfume. He licks his lips and your words finally hit him, so does the feeling of the fabric of your coat in his hands. "Th-thank you," he smiles, "Thanks." He checks your jacket and gives the lady at the table a $20 even though the coat check is free. Waiters walk around with hor d'ourves and drinks and he reaches for the champagne flutes, nodding to you to see if you want one. "It's kind of chilly, is there coffee or anything?" you ask, running your hands over your arms. "There's hot toddy's," he says, "They're by the bar but you don't like whiskey."

"I can pretend to like it for right now," you smile, he smiles back, placing his champagne flute on a table that he'd been sat at earlier, your name card placed on the seat next to him. He takes your hand and leads you to the bar, running his own hands over arms to warm you up while you wait behind a small line of people.

"This is pretty," you tell him, "Looks like everyone is having a good time."

"Half of these guys have been drinking since four," he laughs a little, "I'd hope they're having a good time."

"Oh, Harrington, is this her?" you hear a gruff voice ask. Steve's arm sling protectively around your waist at the sound. "This is she," he says back, he presents you like a trophy to him. His best Vanna White while he scans a hand over you to show you off. "Rob Delaney," he smiles, a smile that rivals Steve's, and offers his hand. He is devilishly handsome, no wonder Steve hates him so much, "You must be the girl that's got Harrington running to the big city."

"I think it's the pay raise that has him running to the big city, but thank you," you giggle, shaking his hand. It's a firm shake, a businessman's shake. You feel the chill of his gold pinky ring brush against your skin. "Pretty thing like you got a name?" he flirts, you feel Steve pull you closer, his hand splaying at the curve of your waist. Your face heats up at the feeling, knowing he doesn't like sharing you even though you weren't his to begin with. "Natalie," you smile. "Natalie," he repeats, giving you a once over, "Pretty name for a pretty girl." "Well, thank you," you say politely, letting go of his hand. He puts his own in his pants pocket, smiling at the both of you. "It's nice to meet you. Save me a dance, will ya?" he smirks when he asks.

"Don't know how free I'll be for a dance, Delaney," Steve replies with a tight voice, ffingers digging into the velvet of your dress, "She's kinda got me tied up all night. Maybe next time." Rob nods, biting back at snicker before walking away with his drink. "See, angel, this dress is dangerous," Steve says in your ear, you hold back from having your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling of his voice in your chest. He orders your hot toddy and a whiskey on the rocks for himself, you nurse it slowly back to the table -- the drink is strong and the food here is light. You feel lucky you ate dinner before you left or else this night would've been ten times more dangerous than the dress you were wearing.

An hour and two hot toddies later and you're chatty at the table with Steve's work friends. He glows while he watches you, the way you are able to blend in so seamlessly with everything. Like you've known these people longer than he has.

"And so I'm still on the phone after he puts me on hold for thirty minutes," you continue through gasps and giggles, the whole table is crying with laughter, "And -- and he comes back and is like, "Oh ma'am, I'm so sorry. Did you say L'Oreal? I thought this was the Oriole's marketing office!"

The table erupts in laughter, feet stomping, glasses clinking while men bang on the table. The women dab tears away with their napkins. Business talk, business jokes. Two big kids in their parents clothes again, at a fancy office party that they don't need to go to.

"Oh god," Steve's co-worker says, face red with liquor and laughter, "That is fuckin' marketing for you. I'm gonna go get a drink, you all want another round?" The group at the table nods, but Steve waves off a no for both of you. 'Last Christmas' flows through the speakers and some people have found their way to the dance floor. He takes the hand resting on your lap and gives it a light squeeze to get your attention. "Hey," you say, turning towards him.

"Hey," he says back, thumb brushing your skin, "You wanna dance with me?" You blush, nodding when he stands up. He's almost too charming, who are you to say no to him.

“Happy Christmas, I wrapped it up and sent it — with a note saying I loved you, I meant it —” Steve mouthed along with the words dramatically, guiding you to the dance floor on gliding backwards feet. His hips swayed expertly — surprising since he didn’t strike you as much of a dancer. You saw him at many a homecoming dance, he was not incredibly impressive in the 80s.

“Now I know, what a fool I’ve been, but if you kiss me now, I know you’d fool me again,” he sings along softly while he pulls you into him. His hand presses against your lower back until you’re chest to chest, hips against his hips, holding your other hand outside the both of you. Your face burns in the low light, noticing the other couples on the dance floor — women with engagement rings and wedding bands, women introduced as ‘my girlfriend _____’ who would be fiancés soon.

“When did you get so good at dancing?” you ask, looking up at him.

“This year to save me from tears — been going to a lot of weddings — give it to someone special,” he explained through his soft singing, “Got good at dancing so I could pick up bridesmaids. What about you?”

You scoff at his answer before answering yourself, "I was always a good dancer, Steve."

"How was I supposed to know?" he shrugged. Hair falls in his face when he leans forward to brush his nose against yours, his tell that he wants to kiss you.

"Should've danced with you at prom," he mumbles, resting his forehead down on yours.

"I didn't go to prom," you smile, moving your head on his chest, "Wasn't really my thing." His hand travels from your lower back to just below your shoulder blades, holding you while you both sway in time with the music.

"What'd you do instead?" he asks, you can't help but giggle and he can feel it in his chest.

"Ugh, it's embarrassing," your face burns while you nuzzle into the lapel of his jacket.

"It was years ago, c'mon," he urges, “Tell me.”

You look up at him and scrunch your nose, “I let Eddie Munson take my V-card that night.”

Steve gasps, you want to punch him in his perfect teeth.

“Right on his stained mattress at his uncle's,” you laugh and scrunch your nose harder.

“Oh, no…” he laughs, a twinge of jealously plucks in his chest, “Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?”

“I mean he was a different kind of freak for me,” you shrug and Steve presses you even closer, feeling your breats and tummy squish against him. Warm and soft.

“Any good?” he asks, trying to make it casual. But even if it was so long ago, he had to know. "Good for seventeen," you shrugged, "And eighteen, and nineteen, and twenty. Then Corrded Coffin took off and he left."

"So you kept fucking him when you'd come back for breaks?" he laughs.

"It's a long winter break, Harrington," you explained, "I had a life before you, y'know."

"Yeah, but, was it a good one?" he squints when he asks, so you know he's joking. You roll your eyes at him, anyway. While George Michael wails, Steve can't help himself while looking at you in the low light. His body so close to yours he could barely breathe correctly. His hand skates up the the top of your back to your neck, pulling you in for a kiss that only both of your lips understand. Sharing secrets with eachother through clicks of spit, soft breaths, and swipes of tongue. If it weren't for the hot toddies, you'd never let him kiss you like this with people around. When you break away, he's breathless. "You look so good tonight," he confesses, the hand holding yours leaving to meet your cheek, "Can't stop lookin' at you." "Well thank you for the dress," you smile, "It's all you."

"Fits you like a glove," he smirks, "No lines or anything."

You blush but he can't tell, "Well I'm not wearing anything under this so that's why."

Steve chokes, sputtering, astounded at how you can say that to him so casually. The whole time he's had his hands on you, it's only been this flimsy velvet fabric keeping him from feeling your skin. All night you've been naked under this -- and you're just telling him now?

"Uh -- um," his voice cracks, "Do you uh, um, you wanna see my -- um, my office?" "I don't know, is it interesting?" you ask with a laugh. His hands skate down to your ass, the whiskey in your system tells you its okay when he lets his palms roam the mass of it. "Can make it so interesting for you," he says, lips brushing yours, "So, so interesting."

His hands and lips are on you the moment you step into the elevator and the doors close. His tongue runs a flat stripe over your collar bone, over the twenty four karat gold chain around your neck, following your jugular until he gets to your job.

"Your quarterly review came in," he murmurs in your ear, hand skating up your dress to tease you. Fingers brushing over your inner thighs, creeping slowly upward while you whine, "It's abysmal."

The doors ding open and he pulls you by the hand down the hall to the corner office. The windows show off the Indianapolis skyline, buildings glittering from floor to ceiling. There were packing boxes littered around, leather chairs and a couch cross from his desk for meetings. A bar cart left abandon in the corner with a large oak desk in the center. "Abysmal?" you reply innocently while he shuts the door behind you, "Does that mean I'm gonna get fired?"

He finally gets a good view of you from behind and bites his fist bringing the other hand down hard with a loud CRACK! against your ass. He smirks to himself with you yelp. "It might," Steve sinks down into the chair behind his desk, beckoning you over with a finger.

“Wanna keep your job?” he asks with a sly smirk, the authority building in his chest.

“Yes, Mr. Harrington," you playfully whisper. "Then show me," he sighs, reaching for his belt. The clink of the metal on the buckle being undone sent a shiver through you. He stayed relaxed in his office chair, pulling out his length to pump it lazily in his fist.

"Don't be such a tease," he scolds while you stand there, gaping at his cock, feeling behind you to twist the lock on the door.

"Steve! You can't just -- you're at work!" you gasp, eyebrows raised in genuine surprise.

"You just locked the door," he shrugged, "They're all downstairs, c'mon just -- please, come suck my dick. It's already out."

“You’re insane,” you laugh, “We have to go back out there eventually, Harrington.”

“I promise I won’t mess up your makeup,” he pleads, a soft grunt escaping his lips while he quickens his pace on his cock.

“So, I suck your dick,” you start, walking slowly back towards his desk, “And what do I get?”

“Baby, in that dress, you can have anything you want,” he gasps as he runs his thumb over his leaking tip, watching your hips sway while you continuing your slow strut toward him.

“Want me to fuck you instead?” he asks, “God, fuck, bend over the desk. I’ll fuckin’ give it to you.”

“Very forward, Mr. Harrington,” you coo, slowly reaching for the hem of your dress, “Can I keep my job if I let you fuck me?” "Keep your job?" he pants while you bend over in front of him, hem slowly rising over your thighs, "Give you the whole--whole fucking c-company." Your dress slips over the curve of your ass, legs taught and flexed while balancing your weight on your tall heels.

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck," he whispers while he stands, still fucking his fist while he does it, "Your body's just...shit, you're so...I wish you could see how you look."

He clumsily reaches for the middle drawers on the side of his desk, hastily fishing into a half empty box of condoms. You can't stifle the laugh that bubbles out of your chest, "How many people are you fucking in here, Steve?"

"Shh, just shut up," he huffs while he quickly works the latex over his shaft. "Well excuse me," you murmur, bracing yourself while he puts one hand on your hip. The other dips between your legs, pressing against your entrance. "You nice and wet for me?" he asks gently, soaking his fingers in his mouth and coating your opening with a mix of your slick and his spit. "Y-yeah," you say breathily, rocking back onto his hand. Steve smirks, feeling your walls puff and twitch as his touch. You feel his length slide between your thighs, hand guiding his tip to drag across your folds, parting them as he pushes in just an inch or two. You hiss at the intrustion, you were wet but not relaxed. The let downs of not having enough time for foreplay. He runs a calming hand down your back over your dress. "Sorry, I'm sorry," he soothes, "I'll go slow." You feel his hips slowly pull out and push in again, coaxing your walls to start accomdating him. You part your legs a little, the arch in your back matching the porn stars in 'SLUTS AND CEOS XXX' videos you were sure Steve had seen before. Slickness builds between your legs while he pushes his hips in and out again, more and more of his length getting sucked in. You hear him groan when it gets all the way to the hilt.

"So tight..." he grumbles. It was almost uncomfortable for him, he knew you were turned on enough, "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah, sort of," you nod, wincing, "Hurts a little."

"Sorry," he apologizes again while running a hand through his hair, "Lemme...hm..." You hiss again when he pulls out, looking back to see him get to his knees while his hands grip your thighs. Steve just goes for it. His tongue immedately making contact with your entrance. "Steve, oh..." your eyes roll back when he parts your lips with his thumbs, tongue gliding forward to your clit while his fingers find home inside of you. "There we go," he chuckles darkly, "Did she just need a little somethin' extra from me?" "Oh, shit, that's so good," you whisper, covering your mouth to stop your whimpers escaping from under his office door. His fingers pumped like pistons inside of you, teasing your g-spot just enough to get you dripping down your thighs. "Think it'll be okay now?" he asks, his hand meeting your hip while he gets back to full height. "Mhm," you gulp when you feel his head push in, and then the rest of him. Much easier this time around. "Fuuuuck, me," he groans, his hips rolling in steady thrusts against you. You cover your mouth harder, moans caught in your throat, in your palm, threatening to ricochet of the high ceilings of his office. "Better, baby? That feel good?" he asks, his voice clouded behind breathy grunts. You were still tighter than normal, and while that was great, he'd fucked you enough times to know when something wasn't working. "Really good, Steve," you whine through gritted teeth. His speed picks up, the skin of his thighs clapping loudly against the backs of yours. Steve's thrusts are shallow, hitting deeper and deeper until you're on the toes of your heels. "Look--oh fucking fuck--Look back at me," he pleads, "Wanna see you." You oblige and he sighs at the sight of you, reaching forward to move your hair away from you, "So pretty for me."

Steve never looked at the girls he was fucking in his office. It was always just to get off, to feel good after a rough meeting. To let off some steam after his underlings fucked up yet another sale. New secretaries, mail girls, office assistants, you name it -- all he had to do is wink and they'd be bent over his desk by lunch. "I'm close," he admits with a blush, "S'just...mmm fuck, s'what you do to me." "That's okay," you smile, his hand reaching forward again to touch your face. "Been hard since you fuckin'--oh shit, Christ--since you got here," his brows are furrowed while he watches you. Swollen wet lips letting out soft moans while he pumps into you. God, he'd do anything to keep you like this -- wet and ready for him. You catch his hand, pressing kisses to his fingertips, eyeing him mischeviously while you do it.

"D-don't, you're gonna m-make me---" he warns, another groan taking over while you slip his first and middle finger into your mouth. Sucking expertly, your lipstick smearing on his knuckles. "J-just need s-something in your mouth, hm?" his face contorts, brows furrowing while he clamps his eyes down. Whatever authority he had in his voice falls into boyish whines when your tongue swirls between his fingers. It's a sensation he didn't know he'd like so much, having his fingers sucked on while he was buried inside you. Something about the warm wetness of your mouth. The dirtiness of it. The way you'd wink at him while you did. He took his fingers out with a sharp inhale of breath, trying to stave off his orgasm. Instead, he uses them to wrench your hair back, your chest arching off the desk. The sound of your cry would definitely be heard a few doors down if anyone else was around. You involuntarily clench down on him, gushing. "Oh I see, you want me to be a little mean?" he asks against your neck, open palm coming down against your ass again, "Put you in your place?"

"In my p-place? Please. I thought I was getting the whole c-company?" you ask slyly, turning back to face him against the hold in your hair, "Isn't that what you promised...?"

You raise your eyebrows at him, mocking his own approach to the edge, mouth gaping. "Isn't that what you p-promised, Mr. Harrington?"

He gasps, hips stuttering while his grip in your hair slacks and clutches your shoulder. Gutteral groans flow from his throat, a string of expletives pour from his mouth. Gasps of phrases like, "My little office whore...fucking Jesus, my perfect girl...Pretty -- oh god -- pretty baby..." Steve slows his thrusts to nothing, heaving his breaths until they steady and leaning forward to rest his forehead on your back. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, "You didn't..." "I didn't," you shake your head, "But it's okay."

"It's not okay," he says while pulling out, carefully removing the condom and tossing it in the trash can under his desk. "Gross, Steve," you admonish, standing up. You adjust your dress while turning to face him and he frowns, "Someone has to clean that up."

"Don't put your dress down, let me --" he reaches for the hem, but you stop him.

"Steve, it's fine. We have to go back downstairs, they're gonna know you're missing," you smile while you say it, "They're loving you down there."

"I'll make it up to you later," he promises, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, "Wake up all the neighbors when we get home tonight."

"Whatever you say, Harrington," you roll your eyes while you get to the door, clicking the lock. You both make your way to the bathroom when you leave his office, making quick work of cleaning up. He waits for you against the wall across from the door, your purse in his hand. "Hi," he smiles, when you exit, "Missed you."

You scoff, reaching for your purse and fishing out a compact to touch up your lipstick and powder. He walks next to you while you touch up, arm slinging around your waist while he does.

"You're gonna make me mess it up," you say, swiping a line of color over your lips. "I already messed it up back there," he shrugs while the elevator doors ding open, "What's a second time?" He pushes you up against the elevator wall when the doors close behind you, "Or a third time?" You hum into his kiss, hungry and touchy, feeling yourself swell between your legs.

Another drink and an hour on the dance floor later and you're back at the table while the guys chat with cigars on the opposite side of the room. Steve stands with a hand in his pocket, cocky and confident, while he talks with his work friends -- you're sure about something he doesn't really care about. Mergers and acquistions.

"He sent Rob's secretary three dozen roses as a goodbye gift," one of the women at the table behind you said to another. "Oh, you know he just did that to piss him off," her friend replied, "Muffy told me she doesn't even like him like that. It's all been for fun."

"He told her to come visit him in New York any time," she shrugged, "But he stopped sleeping with her earlier this month cause he said he's got himself a girl in the city."

"Can't believe he's going to New York for some girl," she complains, "He stopped flirting with everyone. But you know what? Good riddance, he's fucking boring now. Hot but boring." "It's not the girl he brought tonight, right?" the other woman asks, "That's gotta be a friend from school or something. She's not very New York looking, pretty home grown if you ask me."

It doesn't bother you, but your shoulders tense a little. In your own little world with Steve was one thing, but to hear people confirm your slight fears about what the future could hold was another. You couldn't deny the sinking feeling in your chest every time you remembered he was moving to New York. Moving into your life in a way you'd never had him before. Disrupting the whole life you built there by yourself, a place you've been able to call home without anyone from your real home to bother you. 'Got himself a girl', since when? Weren't you just having fun? Before you can get too lost in your thoughts, he's coming towards you with your coats in his arms, holding yours out in front of him. "You wanna get outta here, baby?" he asks, there's a slight slur to his words that makes you laugh. "Sure," you smile. You hear a soft 'Oh, shit,' come from the table behind you. "You need me to find a phone to call for a car?" you ask him. He shakes his head, "No, they'll call one for us downstairs." You put on your coats, led around for a flurry of goodbyes before heading back into the elevator to the lobby. He takes your hand immeidately, leading you to the front desk to ask for a car before taking you outside to wait. "You have fun?" he asks, pulling you in to hold you, protecting you from the cold. "Oh, a lot of fun," you smile, "You brought your dancin' shoes, for sure." "Had to, since you're so nice to dance with," he smiles, hands dropping from your arms to laces fingers with yours. You smile, but he notices there's something off about it, not as genuine, "You okay?"

"Oh yeah, yeah, fine," you shake your head, "Just thinkin'."

"Yeah, I've been thinkin' too and um..." he starts, looking down, brows furrowing, "Thinking about you and uh--"

"What did you mean the other night, on the phone? When you said 'It's what it implies'?" he asks, thumb gliding idly against your gloved hand. One of his co-workers came bumbling through the revolving door, eyes glazed over with the buzz of alcohol. You dropped his hand before whoever this was could register it, embarrassment buzzing through you. If the women were talking about you, you couldn't imagine what the men were saying.

"Hey man, goodnight -- good to see you and uh -- yeah g-good luck if oh, shit I'm so fucked up dude -- good luck if I don't see you," he slurred, pulling Steve in for a hug. "Thanks, Jack. Easy there, buddy," Steve rolled his eyes at you from over his shoulder before he let go, "You're not driving tonight, right?"

Jack shakes his head and laughs, leaning against are large stone sqaure pillar. His eyes semi-follow the figure of a beautiful woman in a maroon dress pushing through the revolving door.

"Jack, let's go," she calls, like a mother to a son. She waves him over with her clutch, engagement ring glinting in the buildings facades.

"That's my ride," he smiles, stumbling over to her. They take eachother's hand and she offers an apology over her shoulder, saying goodnight to Steve and smiling at you.

"Sorry about that,” Steve says apologetically, reaching for your hand again, “You we’re saying.”

“Just that,” you stuttered, unable to find the right words to say to explain it, “I don’t know Steve. I’m not like — I don’t — This isn’t — ugh..”

“Take your time, Manhattan,” he teases. You don’t want to hurt him, especially not when he smiles at you like that.

“Bringing me here,” you start, “In this dress you bought me, in this necklace. Dancing with me, taking me to your office. It’s making people think we’re together.”

“Are we not?” Steve asked, his brows furrowing, “Cause I thought that — like, we talked about — have you been sleeping with other people?”

“No, Steve, I haven’t,” you shake your head, keeping your voice calm, “But I’m not going around telling people that you’re my boyfriend.”

Steve’s face drops a little, some pink rising in his cheeks that isn’t coming from the cold, “Oh.”

“I thought you liked me,” Steve confessed, “That you, y’know — that you wanted me. That you liked me the way I like you.”

“I do like you, Steve,” you tell him, your hand resting on his chest, “But what if this isn’t what you really want? What if this is just fun for now?”

"I mean, I -- I uprooted my whole life for you," Steve argues, "I'm moving to New York in a week and a half."

"I didn't ask you to do that for me. You wanted to do something new," you calmly explained back, "I said I thought it would be a good idea."

"You said we could try it for real..." his voice got weak, caught in his throat. Steve's amber eyes rounding while he looks at you, how the street lights dance across the jewelry he bought you, the gloss on your lips.

"When you got there," you corrected, "And what if you get there and that's not what you want anymore? There's a lot to offer guys like you in the city, Steve. It's a totally different world than the one I'm living in."

"I can bring you into it with me," he pleads, hands sneaking under your coat and finding your waist.

"Steve..." you say knowlingly, your shoulders sinking. Your fingers reach up and brush his hair out of his face, delicately following the line of his cheek.

"Nat, please, I..." his voice trails off when he realizes what he's about to say. You watch his Adam's apple bob while he swallows the words.

"Don't say it," you whisper softly, shaking your head, "You don't mean it."

A cab finally pulls in, and you take a glance at it over your shoulder. "I'm gonna go home, okay?" you ask. You turn to pull out of his hold, but he pulls you in desperately.

"Natalie..." disappointment soaks your name when he says it, "Just -- c'mon. We can forget this whole conversation. Please, come home with me."

You shake your head no.

"Please?" he begs, pulling you a little closer to him, "Please?"

You lean in to kiss him, taking him all in. His cologne, the way his lips taste, the way he moves his hands from your waist to your jaw. He wants to keep you there forever, pausing his life for however long it took to get bored of how our lips feel against his. He doesn't think there's a time when he will.

You break away when the cab beeps, brushing your nose against his like he does to you, "I had a really nice time."

"Me too," Steve kisses your forehead, swallowing the lump in his throat when he accepts that you're not staying the night, "Call me a little later? So I know you made it in okay?"

"Of course," you promise. It hurts to look at him like that, tears shining in his eyes that he’s trying to blink away.

“Goodnight Steve,” you smile with your lips closed, afraid that if you open them you’ll never stop talking about all the things you’re afraid to talk to him about.

“Night,” he says while you turn to hurry towards the cab. As it drives away, you see him wipe at his nose and shake his head, crossing his arms tightly around himself to protect him from the cold now that you weren’t there to keep him warm.

Steve watches the cab leave with a lump in his throat, sniffling hard enough that the cold air burns the back of his throat. There's no way in hell you don't love him back, he thinks. There's no fucking way. When the red lights from the back of the cab disappear onto the city streets he turns back into the lobby, Last Christmas plays again softly over the speakers like it's mocking him. The tinny layments bouncing off the marble floor and back into his ears, down to his chest where his heart thumps painfully. Rob, and his secretary Muffy, stumble out of the elevator bank drunk with giggles and empty champagne flutes. He catches Steve walking towards the security desk and lets out a hearty laugh. "You goin' home alone Harrington?" he asks with a grin, "Shoulda let me know, would've brought your friend along. Three's company, huh?" Steve's jaw ticks but he ignores him, letting the gush of cold air soothe over his mixture of sadness and frustration while Muffy and Rob open the door. His shoes click on the marble as he approaches the desk, the music taunts him as he does it. 'A face of a lover with a fire in his heart, a man undercover but you tore me apart...'

"Can I help you with anything else, Mr. Harrington?" the attendant asks. Steve sighs, the breath comes out in a shudder, "Would you mind calling me another cab?" "Right away," he says warmly. Steve appreciates the kindness, he wishes he got the man a goodbye card. The sound of the phonecall for the car is muffled as Steve thinks about how it felt to dance with you, the warmth of your skin, your giggles at the mall, the way you kissed him goodmorning in his bed earlier. He swallows, tears pooling in his eyes. 'But the very next day, you gave it away. This year, to save me from tears, I'll give it to someone special. Special -- someone --' "Car should be here shortly."

"Thanks man, thanks so much," Steve says without turning around to face him. He wipes at his eyes with gloved hand, heading back into the cold to wait for the cab.

Alone.

[poetry-protest-pornography]

Ouch ouch ouch.

First has been conditioned to think he's disgusting, and he knows that what he's into is niche, but in Soong he found someone who accepted all of him, even the ugly, dangerous parts. And for Soong, First wants to be safe, and keep the danger to the sexy kind, not the out of control, mean and careless kind that's been driving him.

So Soong disappearing with no explanation has First assuming the worst: his dad is right, other people are right, he's unstable and monstrous. His first instinct is to disregard his own feelings of wanting to change, and accept that he's too damaged to love.

And then, Zouey and Nont are there, and so worried. (Did I get choked up when Nont was at the door, yes, yes I did.)

The relief on both of their faces is excruciating. The way Zouey grabs First's shoulders, and how Nont hesitates for just a second before reaching out to hold onto him, too. How scared they both look.

How long did they hover at the door before they knocked? How much of that hour that First was locked in there did Zouey and Nont stand at his door and listen for a sign they were needed before they checked in?

I love that they're both there for First, and I can't imagine how difficult it is for Nont to have to worry about his friend's potential to hurt himself right after seeing Nant's possible suicide. I know by the end of the episode, First has gone full "I am irredeemable, so I might as well be worse", but I hope that he comes around to realize that he's still not alone, even if he's lost his primary motivation to get better.

He has these two (and Captain and Porsche are a fucking mess, but they're there, too).

I hope Zouey sees him on his self destructive mission and pulls him back, because First asked "Promise me" when Zouey said he wouldn't let him hurt himself, and he is trying awful hard to do just that.

It is so much harder to heal for your own sake, so it's okay to strive to get better for others until you can add yourself to the list, but First wrapped all his reasons up in Soong, and without him, he's lost.

First, let Zouey and Nont find you, they will if you ask them to.

[underworld-park-offical]

TOLKIEN: Zzzzzzzzrzrzrzrrzzzz

TOLKIEN: Zzazzazazezezezezezrzrzzrrzrrr

PHONE: ♪ I'M A BARBIE GIRL ♪

PHONE: ♪ IN THE BARBIE WORLD ♪

PHONE: ♪ LIFE IN PLASTIC ♪

PHONE: ♪ IT'S FANTASTIC ♪

TOLKIEN: Huhhheheehdbfd…

TOLKIEN: Huh

TOLKIEN: What

TOLKIEN: What the fuck?

TOLKIEN: Why is my phone going off?

TOLKIEN: Are the fucking queers calling me again?

TOLKIEN: Eeeeyup its them

TOLKIEN: What

GARY: Have you ever been beaten by a wet spaghetti noodle by your girlfriend cuz she has a twin sister and you got confused and fucked her dad, well that’s how it feels to drive a Ford F-250. That sounds really cool. But you know what else is cool? The new 2020 Ford F-150, winner of 10 J.D. power awards. Perfect for hauling big things and going long distances. But you want to go offroad? Try the new Raptor Edition, which cannot just go offroad, it is perfect for going extreme off-roading. You can go rock climbing or across a desert, really quickly. It is also good for the great American thing - BBQs! In fact, you can haul MORE than one oven! That's pretty cool, huh? So hurry, and buy the new 2020 Ford F-150, now for sale at your local Ford dealership. RED: Wgat RED: Stop RED: Stop speaking BEBE: Girl get the tape from the backseat RED: Already on it NICHOLE: Heyyyy Tolkien NICHOLE: Did I wake you?

TOLKIEN: …

TOLKIEN: …

TOLKIEN: …

TOLKIEN: …

TOLKIEN: No..

NICHOLE: Oh NICHOLE: That’s  NICHOLE: That's good

TOLKIEN: What's going on

NICHOLE: So uhm NICHOLE: Ahahaha NICHOLE: Funny story

TOLKIEN: Nichole what did you do??

TOLKIEN: Did you fuckin

TOLKIEN: Commit fraud?

TOLKIEN: …

TOLKIEN: Again?

NICHOLE: What NICHOLE: No NICHOLE: Of course not NICHOLE: I am a law abiding citizen NICHOLE: Except for when it comes to the Barbie Movies

TOLKIEN: Okay? We’ve all  pirated a Barbie Movie

TOLKIEN: What makes you special?

TOLKIEN: If it's not fraud or piracy what did you even do

NICHOLE: There’s a sentient advertisement in our Porsche now

TOLKIEN: …

TOLKIEN: …

TOLKIEN: …

TOLKIEN: …

TOLKIEN: …

TOLKIEN: Excuse me?

NICHOLE: Yeah uh NICHOLE: We saw Gary NICHOLE: Or G-4R-Y if you wanna use his actual name? NICHOLE: Fuck I don't know anymore NICHOLE: He was walking in the cold for some reason? NICHOLE: And you know how he only speaks in ads?

TOLKIEN: We all do

BEBE: Wait BITCH do you think we could reprogram him to be like

BEBE: An ALEXA???

GARY: Need some music for that impromptu dance off? Ask Alexa to play songs or playlists from Prime Music and Spotify so you're always ready to show off your sweet moves-if that's what you call them ;) "Amazon Echo: Alec Baldwin and Missy Elliott Dance Party Commercial" via @popisms :https://www.popisms.com/TelevisionCommercial/126873/Amazon-Echo-Commercial-2016 GARY: I really don't want you to see me like this. You need some entrance music. Alexa, play Alex dance playlist. Playing Alex playlist. That's dance music? Alexa, play Pep Rally by Missy Elliott. Really? Perfect! I got a little something for you. It's beautiful. Does this mean I'm gonna be in your next video? Let me see what you got. (Lyrics) Anything you want me to (Lyrics) Pep rally, pep rally, pep rally Oh, this a pep rally Pep rally, pep rally, pep rally Bounce, biggity bounce, biggity-biggity bounce, bounce Where my clappers that stomp? Now rock with it Bounce, biggity bounce, biggity-biggity bounce via @popisms : https://www.popisms.com/TelevisionCommercial/126873/Amazon-Echo-Commercial-2016 GARY: I’m Gary! The Mormon who advertises! RED: I mean RED: I’ll become a mechanic if it gets him to stfu 💀💀💀 WENDY: No- RED- NO PUT THE WRENCH DOWN! RED: FUCK YOU GARY: The future. You used to chase it. Now you’re living in it. The Wavefront is an all-electric automobile that propels driving into a new era. With sleek, aerodynamic design, and ultrasonic sensors that prevent collisions, there’s no more getting left behind. Life’s short. Drive fast.  GARY: I’m Gary! The Mormon who advertises! RED: SHUT THE FUCK UP!! WENDY: RED!! NO!! BEBE: GIRLY POPS AS MUCH AS I LOVE YOU BEBE: I'M GONNA HIT A DEER IF YOU ALL DONT HUSH RED: WENDY LET ME GO I'M GONNA KILL HIM WENDY: WE ARE NOT KILLING THE AD NICHOLE: SHUT THE FUCK UP IM ON THE PHONE BEBE: SHUT THE FUCK UP I'M DRIVING!!!! RED: CAN I THROW HIM OUT OF THE FUCKING CAR??!?!?!?!?!? WENDY AND NICHOLE: NO!!! NICHOLE: Tolkien I'm gonna have to let you go NICHOLE: We might die- NICHOLE: RED PUT DOWN THE WRENCH YOU'RE GONNA KILL SOMEONE! RED: THAT'S THE GOAL!! GARY: As a parent, I want to know that my kids are safe wherever they are. That includes riding in the car. With the new Carpool Optic from Solar I can breathe easy knowing my kids will arrive where they need to safely – whether I am the driver or not. RED: AUGHHHH!!!!!! NICHOLE: I’m hanging up now NICHOLE: MMMMMMMMMOKAYBYE

TOLKIEN: Bye?

(Beep Beep Beep)

TOLKIEN: Jesus christ

TOLKIEN: (Yawn)

TOLKIEN: Man

KENNY: Hey

TOLKIEN: Ah!

TOLKIEN: Oh my god I got jumpscared by a fucking queer!

KENNY: Oh hardy har har har

KENNY: You got games on yo phone?

TOLKIEN: …

TOLKIEN: What

KENNY: Do you got games

KENNY: On yo phone

TOLKIEN: I mean like

TOLKIEN: I got like

TOLKIEN: Subway surfers??

TOLKIEN: If

TOLKIEN: If that works???

TOLKIEN: Uh

TOLKIEN: Ok?????

TOLKIEN: Here

KENNY: Thanks

KENNY: Oh yeah, can I call my sister while I play subway surfers?

KENNY: I gotta make sure she’s not

KENNY: Yknow

KENNY: Fuckin’ dead

TOLKIEN: No you’re gonna kill my damn battery

TOLKIEN: Just call your sister you dont need to play fucking subway surfers

KENNY: Fine

KENNY: Killjoy

TOLKIEN: Ugh

KAREN: I can't believe McDonald's served me that lukewarm fucking patty 

KAREN: And then had the AUDACITY to tell me KAREN: That it gets cold over time!?!?

KAREN: I think they just undercooked it ON PURPOSE to make ME look like an idiot

TRICIA: Damn, that's crazy

(🎵 KAREN METAL 🎵 )

KAREN: OH MY GOD

KAREN: WHO'S CALLING ME AT EXACTLY 1:59 IN THE MORNING?!?!?

TRICIA: Bro just say 2 AM 💀

TRICIA: …

TRICIA: I can’t believe I just said that out loud

KAREN: WHAT?!?!?

KENNY: Hi

KAREN: WHY ARE YOU CALLING ME?!?!?

KAREN: DO YOU KNOW HOW LATE IT IS?!?!?!

KAREN: I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOUR MANAGER

KENNY: Sis it's me

KAREN: UGHHHHH

KAREN: You missed your nail appointment

KENNY: Shiiiit that was today?

KAREN: You still owe me the money for it

KENNY: … KENNY: Karen, we don't have money, we’re poor

KAREN: Get a job

KENNY: …I do have a job

KAREN: Okay so then you have money?

KENNY: No

KAREN: That doesn't make sense

KENNY: Anyways- KENNY: You alive?

KAREN: Clearly

KENNY: Okay cool KENNY: So uh KENNY: There's demons around, I hope they find you and kill you and you die bye

KAREN: …What?

KAREN: Tricia do you know what the fuck he’s talking about?

TRICIA: No

TRICIA: Also stop calling on speakerphone

TRICIA: You remind me of my brother (derogatorily) 

TRICIA: …

TRICIA: WHY DO I KEEP DOING THAT!?!??!

TRICIA: UGHHH

TRICIA: I’m gonna go yell at my brother by cursing me into the influencer gene pool

TRICIA: You wanna come?

KAREN: If I get to yell at someone, of course

TRICIA: Be-

TRICIA: …

TRICIA: I'm not even gonna say that 

CRAIG: Who the fuck where you talking to

CRAIG: I feel like they were talking shit smh my head

KENNY: Oh just my bitch sister and your bitch sister

KENNY: Told her she was gonna die soon

CRAIG: LMAOOOO I’m dead 💀💀💀

KENNY: Lol it was funny she was so mad

TOLKIEN: I swear to god you guys are the same person sometimes

CRAIG: Smh my head no literally untrue

KENNY: Common Tolkien L

TOLKIEN: I want you both dead

CRAIG: …

KENNY: …

TRICIA: Okay where tf is blud

TRICIA: I'm gonna kill his ass

KAREN: Ugh

KAREN: He probably set up Kenny to fucking prank us

KAREN: Going to yell at them both when we find them

TRICIA: For real

TRICIA: Smh my fucking head

TRICIA: OH MY GOD CAN I STOP DOING THAT!?!?

KAREN: There's his door

KAREN: Should I kick it down?

TRICIA: No he will literally kill me

TRICIA: Instead we’re gonna go in his room

TRICIA: Steal all his shit

TRICIA: And fucking burn it

KAREN: Ohh yay! Property damage! My favorite!

TRICIA: Shhh shhh shhhh

TRICIA: Stfu

TRICIA: He’ll hear us

KAREN: No

KAREN: You're not the boss of me

TRICIA: Okay

TRICIA: On three

TRICIA: One- Two-

KAREN: THREE

KAREN: Ew it's so dark in here

KAREN: It smells like fucking Ccool Ranch Doritos in here

TRICIA: Shut the fuck up

TRICIA: He’s gonna hear you

TRICIA: I know where he keeps his Supreme hoodies

TRICIA: HOOOOOLY SHIT IS THAT A DEAD BODY!??!?!?!?

KAREN: AAAAAAAAAA!!!!!

KAREN: WE ARE GONNA DIE

KAREN: GET THE MANAGER!!

TRICIA: SHUT THE FUCK UP THE KILLER COULD STILL BE HERE YOU QUEERMO

GREGORY AND ESTELLA: Shhhhh he eepy

TRICIA: …

KAREN: …

TRICIA: …

KAREN: …

TRICIA: …

KAREN: …

TRICIA: …

KAREN: …

TRICIA: …

KAREN: …

TRICIA: …

KAREN: …

TRICIA: …

KAREN: …

KAREN AND TRICIA: AAAAAAAAAAA-

TRICIA: Okay

TRICIA: HAILLLL NAWHHHHH

KAREN: I’m calling the police

TRICIA: That is the smartest thing you could ever do

KAREN: Hello? 911?

KAREN: Hi yeah, there's some queers in our house

KAREN: Please come

KAREN: Bye

(Edits made by @pissblanket and @cattpup5)