#OOP Interview Questions

[machonnes]

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE (2022-) 2.02 | Do You Know What It Means to Be Loved by Death

[yardsards]

i needed to express a sentiment in the creative stylings of @dunmeshiminimumwage

[delucadarlingwriting]

Vampire Divorce Court - Striking Matches Burns Fingers

Man, writing has been a hell of a task lately. This has been marinating in my docs for a while, because I like having two parts done before posting one, but...Yeah, I'm doing it now. I've got the next one done, though it needs a bit of work. I'm still figuring out the outline for part 10. Part of me feels like I need to go back and replay the games a bit, just so I'm not constantly second guessing if I've written them OOC or what.

Anyway! I did have fun with this part. Mason and Barbie barking at one another while getting absolutely zero communication done is very fun for me. Plus, I love Kira.

Summary: Mason really wishes he could backpedal on the whole Barbie-coming-to-help thing.

First | Previous | Part 8 | Next

Word Count: 3,610

***

Book 1, Haley’s Bakery, early morning

There’s not much good about this mission, but Mason can at least appreciate that Barbie seems to want to be away from him as much as he wants to be away from her. She’d been gone when he came down for his break from babysitting the detective just a few hours after snapping at one another. He couldn’t catch her scent at all either, so she must’ve left right after he’d gone inside. No telling where she went or what she was doing, only that Adam had determined someone needs to keep an eye on her. Mason’s glad the commanding agent chose to tackle that project himself.

He’s doubly glad that Farah had elected to leave the subject well alone as they wandered the quiet town. That didn’t stop her from chattering about anything and everything else, but Mason’s more than used to tuning other people out. That is, until she suddenly says, “Adam’s texted.”

“What about?” Mason grunts. He’d just dug out his carton of smokes, but finding only a quarter left inside, he shoves it back into his pocket. The sky is just starting to turn pink, the quiet buzz of life starting to grow around them. If he’s going to make it through the day, he’ll need to ration them out.

“We’re going to meet up with him, and then we’re going to go meet up with Nat, Kira and…Well, you know.” Farah eyes him, but he doesn’t give her anything to read off. Other than annoyance, but that’s practically nothing. “Think you can manage it?”

“Shut up,” he snaps. Farah snorts and shrugs.

“Alright. Come on, he said he’d meet us near that park in the bougie part of town.” She flounces off, her enthusiasm to meet up with Adam grating against his dread for meeting up with everyone else.

Adam is waiting for them when they arrive, and after greeting Farah, he looks to Mason. At Mason. Like he’s making sure there are no cracks. Mason just takes it until Adam leads the way to wherever they’re going. He hadn’t been listening when Adam told them.

While he’d denied needing anyone to arrange shifts so he doesn’t have to be around Barbie, Mason is starting to regret that now. It’s done though, so he just has to suck it up until it’s done and she leaves. Adam falls back as they approach the bakery, and Mason nearly does too when he spots the back of Barbie’s head through the huge windows.

Farah looks up at him when his next step is off cadence, but he pretends not to notice and keeps going. It’s not as if talking about it will help anything, no matter what she and Nat think. He pushes through the door, Adam catching it as Farah slips through, following the both of them in.

There’s only one enormous table in the place, but luckily no other customers. Nat’s on one side, facing the door, while Kira and Barbie are hip to hip on the other side. A fact that has Adam growling quietly. Admittedly, Mason has his own hesitations at the sight. No vampire that’s as hungry as Barbie has to be should be anywhere near humans. Let alone the human they’re supposed to be protecting.

Mason heads straight for the chair at Nat’s side, throwing himself down on it, while Farah takes the one next to him. Adam doesn’t bother, standing tall with his arms crossed right behind Barbie’s chair. She doesn’t look at him though, nor does she look at Mason. She continues the conversation as if she hasn’t even noticed either of them at all. Fine by him.

The rest of them talk, but Mason isn’t paying attention to what they’re saying. He’s doing his best to tune everything out. It’s damn near impossible though. Ever since she arrived in this town, Mason swears he can feel her, despite the ways in which she’s changed.

She smells different now. Indescribably so, considering he can still recognize her scent as being distinctly Barbie. Her heartbeat is quiet and sluggish, enough to be alarming for a human, but it may as well be a drum beating against the inside of his head. Loud enough that he barely notices the baker woman coming up behind them all.

“Anything I can get you?” she asks, terribly cheerful as she wipes her sugar dusted hands against her apron. Mason turns to glare, but pauses first to look her up and down. Her heart beats fast, faster still when she meets Mason’s eye.

“We’re fine,” Barbie says, her voice slicing through the moment. Her eyes are wide behind her glasses when Mason looks over, like she managed to surprise herself with the vitriol in her voice. “I mean…We—We’re—”

Nat jumps in to fix the situation. She turns to the baker and smiles. “We don’t need a thing, but thank you.”

The baker looks confused, stuck between offense at Barbie’s response and flustered at Nat’s. She settles on an awkward smile, a nod, and beats a hasty retreat for the kitchen.

“Wow,” Farah says with a snicker. “I see how you managed to charm Mason’s pants off.”

“That’s hardly a difficult task,” Barbie mutters, staring down as she folds and unfolds a paper napkin on the table in front of her. Mason leans forward against the table, but he’s cut off from responding by Nat.

“Kira had a question,” Nat says, gripping the conversation in an iron fist before it can go down the drain any further.

The detective, cradling a mug of something dark and bitter in her hands, hesitates for a moment as if forgetting the question herself after that whole exchange.

“Um. Yeah. I guess I was just wondering about…” She looks over toward the counter, but Mason can already hear the baker starting up an industrial mixer in the back. None of this will be overheard. Kira pulls her long, strawberry blond braid over her shoulder, twirling it around a finger as she talks. “The thralls that attacked us. You said they’re people, right? Humans?”

Nat nods. “Residents of Wayhaven, in fact.”

Kira’s face scrunches up unhappily. “But no one’s been reported missing.”

“They wouldn’t be,” Mason says. “He can’t control them without being at full strength.”

“At night,” Barbie elaborates before Kira can ask. “Otherwise they’re just themselves. Normal humans, living their lives.”

“And they don’t know what he’s done to them?” Kira asks.

“Not a clue,” Farah replies. She shifts, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.

“Well, I want to check on them,” Kira says, jaw set.

“We are already keeping an eye on them,” Adam says, his tone saying without words that that should be the end of the conversation. Kira dismisses this idea and continues.

“It’s my job to keep them safe,” she says, turning to look up at him. “I know I haven’t done a stellar job so far, but that doesn’t mean I can just shrug off my duties and give up.”

“I’ll go with you,” Barbie says, gently laying a hand on Kira’s. Every other vampire stiffens at the gesture. “I’d like to get an idea of the sort of people Murphy has been targeting, and if there may be a connection to be found there. Where he found them may be an indicator of the locations he’s been working around.”

Kira beams, way too grateful for what’s being offered. Adam’s eyes shift behind his sunglasses, looking quickly between them as he realizes he’s rapidly losing control of the situation.

“Mason,” he says sharply. Mason’s shoulders drop.

“Seriously?” he asks. Adam stares at him.

“It’s fine,” Kira says, giving Mason a concerned look that he curls a lip at. She shakes her head at him. “Barbie will be with me, I don’t need another babysitter.”

“Yeah, Babs being with you is like, the whole problem,” Farah says. Barbie flinches, looking away as if she hasn’t heard when Kira gives her a questioning look.

Unsure of what possesses him to do so, Mason interferes. “Yeah, you need a real babysitter. So one of us.” He gestures as briefly as he can manage to the rest of Unit Bravo.

At his side, Farah starts peering at him closely, and he can practically feel how she’s trying to pry at him. So he throws an elbow into her side, making her squawk indignantly.

“I’m not a field agent,” Barbie adds on across the table, eager to pounce on the opportunity Mason’s given her. “I wouldn’t be of much help in a dangerous situation.”

Surprised, Kira says, “Really? But you’re also a…”

Looking nauseated, Barbie holds a hand up and shakes her head. “I’ve never been good at physical activities, and that’s as true now as it ever was.”

“All but one, at least,” Mason says. That earns him a swift side kick to the ankle from Nat, along with a stern glare. He growls at her for it, but doesn’t retaliate. No need to start breaking shit and get yelled at for that too.

Kira’s hiding her distaste with a very quick swig from her mug, while Barbie goes a pale pink, her sluggish heartbeat picking up its pace for a moment. He doesn’t think about why she doesn’t blush as deeply as she used to.

“As much as I’m certain Kira and everyone else here appreciates your insight, shall we keep things professional?” Barbie grits out. Mason just grins toothily, enjoying how it makes her let out a frustrated sound and push back from the table. Kira scrambles to follow her lead, pausing only to dust the crumbs from her skirt.

As Mason is hauling himself up, he hears keys jangle in Barbie’s hand. The idea of being stuck in a car with her and the detective makes him want to scratch all his skin off. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Naturally,” Barbie says breezily as she walks past, as if he was being presumptuous by suggesting there was any other option.

Why does he even fucking bother?

***

Book 1, Near the outskirts of Wayhaven, Mid-morning

They show up when he's on his second cigarette. Kira wrinkles her nose as soon as she’s close enough to catch the smell.

“Put that out,” Barbie demands, frowning at him.

“You're one to talk,” Mason says, taking a long, deliberate drag.

“I refrain from doing it around anyone it can damage,” she replies, jerking her chin toward the detective. He cannot summon enough of a fuck to give, considering he’s not exactly huffing in her face. Barbie flinches, the way she does every time he meets her eye, but she doesn’t back down.

Mason sighs and stubs the cigarette against the bottom of his boot before flicking it into the bushes. Kira watches it sail through the air, glares at him, and then stomps off to go fetch it. Barbie crosses her arms and arches a drawn on eyebrow at him.

“Are we here to watch thralls or skip around the woods?” Mason snaps. From behind a bush, Kira pops her head around with a chastising expression.

“We could be watching them already if I didn't have to chase down your litter.” At Mason’s impatient groan, she adds, “This is protected land!”

“That must be part of why this place is so lovely,” Barbie says, as if she has ever gone hiking or appreciated nature in her life. Mason leans back against a tree, doing his best to ignore the way the bark digs into his skin.

“Oh, Wayhaven’s the best!” Kira exclaims, again unseen as she hunts. Eventually she emerges, cigarette butt in hand. Barbie holds her hand out toward her, a cotton, embroidered handkerchief laid over top of it. Kira delicately places the cigarette there, and Barbie folds it up before slipping it all into her pocket.

“Can we go now?” Mason huffs. Barbie flutters a hand at him.

“Well go on, you’re the one who knows where to go,” she urges.

He remembers a time where he liked her decisiveness, the way she didn’t hold back on telling him exactly what she wanted and how she wanted it. Now though, it rankles. He’s tired of every goddamn thing being on Barbie’s terms.

The women exchange glances, and Barbie says, “Well?”

Fuming, Mason swings around and stomps onward. It’s not a real path, but by this point he knows the path of least resistance through the uneven earth and brush. He pushes a branch sticking out in front of him out of the way, letting it go once he’s past it. It swings back, and there are dual yelps of surprise behind him, followed by a sharp, “Mason!”

He smiles to himself and hastens his pace, if only to hear Barbie grumbling as she tries to keep up while wearing heels and a tight dress. The detective isn’t nearly as thrown off, which he almost finds respectable.

Eventually they come to the spot Mason’s used on and off for the past week to keep an eye on the thralls here. Not all of them live in this area, but two are neighbors. Probably targeted for the ease of it all. He crouches down, settling in for a long, boring watch when Kira emerges with Barbie stumbling along behind her.

“Have you spotted them already?” Kira asks. Mason nods and gestures to houses below.

“The ones there, with the red brick,” he says. “The other two are on opposite ends of town, but these ones are easy to watch.”

The detective comes close, smelling distinctly of fragranced soap. It makes his nose itch and his eyes water, but he does his best to ignore it. Eventually, after watching squint for several seconds, he realizes she can’t see the thralls moving around in their houses through the windows.

“They’re in there,” he says. He can’t hear anything at this distance, not over the wind in the leaves.

“What are they doing?” Kira asks. This though, she aims at Barbie.

“I can’t see either,” Barbie replies.

“But you’re…” Kira trails off, then gives a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I know you said you’re different.”

Understatement of the fucking year, there. Mason doesn’t say it out loud, but Barbie glares at him anyway like she already knows that’s what he’s thinking. He doesn’t like that she still knows him well enough for that, while he feels like he hardly knows her at all anymore.

Before the quiet can settle in, Kira asks, “Is that why you wear glasses?”

Barbie laughs, the noise like a punch to the gut. “Oh God, no. These are fake, just plain glass in frames. They actually make it harder to see sometimes.”

“Oh,” Kira says. It’s clear she has a thousand questions, while Barbie seems to regret saying as much as she did.

“You know, I’ve never actually seen a thrall before, so this expedition is quite exciting,” Barbie says quickly. While it doesn’t wipe away the curiosity in the detective’s eye, she follows Barbie’s lead anyway.

“Never?” Kira asks. Barbie shakes her head.

“No. Not even in all the time I worked with Unit Bravo.”

“So you worked with them before?” Kira asks. Barbie looks at Mason again, but he isn’t offering any easy answers this time. So she sighs and nods.

“Yes, I work with a variety of teams who need my help, but I used to work most closely with Unit Bravo before I was transferred,” she says.

That makes Mason snort. “Really? You’re calling it a transfer?”

“Do you really want to get into this right here, right now?” Barbie snaps, her gaze cutting over to Kira and back again. Having her stand over him, looking down her nose with every hair in place makes Mason itch all over. He stands, just to put himself on equal footing with her.

“I don’t give a fuck if the detective hears about it, and you’re the one who brought it up in front of her,” Mason says. Barbie rolls her eyes and it makes Mason’s head start spinning.

“Perhaps I don’t feel the need to air out my dirty laundry. Though Lord knows you probably have!” Barbie shouts. Mason steps closer, nearly bouncing Kira out of the way.

“Guys, easy,” she says as she scrambles to her feet, but neither vampire is really hearing her.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Mason demands. Barbie meets his eye fully.

“You have no shame and no decorum,” she says. He blinks.

“Is that news to you?” he asks.

“Don’t speak to me so flippantly,” Barbie says. Mason snorts.

“You think I’m flippant? What about you?”

“What about me?” Barbie crosses her arms.

“At least I actually give a damn about the people I’m supposed to care about,” Mason says. “You can’t handle your goddamn vanity being wounded to the point of running to another fucking continent to hide away.”

Barbie moves then, arm coming up before freezing somewhere just above her hip. She closes her eyes, breathing deep as she pinches her nose with the hand she was certainly about to slap him with. Mason almost wishes she’d tried, even if he’s not sure exactly what he’d do about it.

“Mason, if you think the only problem I have with being a vampire is looking like this,” she says, as if she’s some sort of horrible, mangled thing, “then divorcing you really was the best thing I could’ve done.”

Before Mason can even begin to come up with something to say to that, Kira shoves her way between them.

“Okay, come on. Enough. You’re just finding things to argue about.” She looks between them, keenly taking in all this new information, while also wanting to stop either of them from continuing. Which is just as well, as Mason’s throat has gone so dry he doubts he could say much anyway.

To hell with this, Adam can come babysit if he really wants someone to watch the detective.

Of course, before he can even will himself to move, Barbie steps away first.

“I doubt I can glean much just from observing them as they are now,” she says, fussing with the buttons on her coat. “I’d be better off completing the files the Agency wants on them, which I can do with my laptop and a printer.”

“I have a printer at my apartment,” Kira says after a moment. “You can use that one.”

“Wonderful,” Barbie says flatly. She’s gone the next moment, stumbling back through the trees.

Mason curls and uncurls his fingers, itching to run after her and…

And what? What the fuck does he even want with her anymore? He thought nothing. It should be nothing.

Everything is too bright, too cold, and too damn much. He turns away to settle back on his haunches, ostensibly to observe the thralls, but if he's being truly honest with himself he isn't absorbing a damned thing. The detective settles in beside him, wrapping her arms around her knees.

“That was…a lot,” Kira says haltingly. Mason snorts.

“That’s nothing.” One of the last conversations they had before she ran off, he and Barbie had screamed so loud at one another that Elidor had had to use his magic to separate them. At least Barbie wasn’t cursing his name down for the next century.

“Still, arguing with someone you used to be with can’t be fun.”

Mason rolls his eyes. “You’re a real genius, huh?”

“I guess she hasn’t always been a vampire?” Kira asks. Mason ignores her, but that doesn’t stop the detective from continuing. “I’d ask her, but she seems to get upset when she has to talk about being one. That plus some of what you guys just said…”

“No, she was turned,” Mason says, suddenly too fucking tired to tell Kira to mind her business. Answering her questions will, with any luck, get her to shut up faster.

“Did you know each other as humans?”

“No. I was a vampire, she was human when we met.” Mason stands again, stomping his feet to try and get some feeling back into them. Bloody fucking cold. It’s always worse this close to the ocean.

“But she turned before you two broke up,” Kira says. It’s not a question, so Mason doesn’t answer. Besides, he doesn’t really want to even think about Barbie turning, let alone talk about it. If he had his way, she’d be just as human now as she was then. Nearing the end of her life, sure, but not miserable in her existence either. It’s what he’d been preparing himself to deal with ever since they decided to give being a couple a try.

“What does any of this have to do with the thralls?” Mason snaps. Kira shrugs. Just when he thinks that’s the end of that, she piped up again.

“How do you turn people into thralls?”

Mason scoffs. “I don’t. I can’t. Only natural vampires can. And no, I’m not explaining anything else about that.”

To his surprise, the detective’s response to his acerbic words is to laugh. She rests her chin on her knees.

“That’s fine,” she says. “I don’t mind sitting in silence.”

Relief floods him, as that’s all he’s really wanted the whole time. Even if the silence isn’t really silence, between the wind, the birds, and the squirrels darting around barking at one another, it’s better. He can think more clearly. Even the sound of Kira’s breathing isn’t so bothersome.

As time stretches on, he finds the presence of Kira in general isn’t as bothersome as it once was. He might even enjoy it a bit.

Next

[penwrythe]

*sees fave Paintbrush's exit III interview*

That characterization was interesting to say the least. Even though I was a bit in *ahhhhhhhhhFAV* mode, I feel odd about PB's out-of-character dramatic personality.

Also, Lightbrush confirmed??????

[collecting--stardust]

Random question: anyone knows how Cele and Norman Rank know each other?

[no-144444]

the grid: No Nut November!

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Featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Charles LeClerc, Max Verstappen, Paul Aron, Arthur LeClerc.

thank you to the person that requested this!!!

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Oscar Piastri: wouldn’t do it. 

Even if every driver on the grid was offering 1,000€ each as a prize, he was not giving up fucking you for an entire month. 

Even though he looks like a sweetie pie he would absolutely be a freak in the sheets and he was not about to give up the only way he actually gets his frustration out (aka fucking you). 

Everyone kind of boos him for it but then half way through the month he gets to be smug while they’re all miserable and complaining, because he can fuck his girlfriend whenever he wants. 

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Lando Norris: would try, but definitely fail. 

He wouldn’t care about the prize, he’d just have such a ‘how hard can it be?’ attitude. 

Newsflash: extremely. 

You would not make it easy for him either; wearing the sluttiest clothes, basically giving him fuck me eyes all the time, enjoying it when you see him get hot and bothered. 

He snaps on his birthday, and fucks you for hours straight. You can barely walk the next day. 

He decides to own up and pay his part of the bet with no shame, he has a hot girlfriend and he likes fucking her, sue him! 

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Lewis Hamilton: wouldn’t even try

He’s uninterested in the things most of the grid do in their spare time, and he knows they’re uninterested in him too. They don't need to know about his sex life, but what people can guess is that it is very much alive. 

I mean… you two had a baby literally 8 months after your wedding, to the day. 

The other 3 kids don't exactly help his case… 

He’d say yes, just so he could be added to the group chat and he would tell you who is winning and losing.

He’d lose on the first day with no shame. Everyone knows he's just here for the public shaming of others. 

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George Russell: would win

Not saying he’s not a freak in the sheets, but he would set up the entire thing (group chat, the money pool, etc.) and he cannot be seen lacking. 

Even if it wasn’t his idea, he still needed to win. 

You do make the entire month absolute torture though. 

Matching sets, showing as much skin as possible, everything. 

Even walking around the apartment naked. 

But somehow, he doesn’t budge. 

At the end of the month he does fuck you for ages, and you literally cant get out of bed, let alone follow him to a race. He tells the media you’re sick and all of the drivers have the dirtiest laughs as he explains. Despite every question, they keep their mouths shut. 

George did announce that he won at the end, much to your chagrin. 

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Alex Albon: he’d last a while

 He would honestly be pretty good. 

He kind of breaks the rules, he constantly gives you oral and jerking himself off, but it wasn’t specifically stated in the rules (apart from the name… but whatever)

He makes it like halfway through the month until a particularly bad race result. 

He fucks you all night. 

When you both get to the paddock in the morning, George pays him a visit to collect the money like the smug bastard he is. 

He heard you two last night. 

He was 4 doors down. 

Oops. 

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Franco Colapinto: he’s the one who accidentally tells the press. 

We all know Franco is awful at keeping his mouth shut, and in an interview he somehow lets it slip that he needed to find George to give him money. 

They ask him what for. 

He says ‘the bet’ and explains that they’re doing NNN this year and that he lost. 

It was worth it though, you two hadn’t seen each other in months (you were busy in uni, he was busy at races) and he just had to have you. 

He made it like a quarter of the way into the month. 

He didn't really care. 

The drivers honestly just found it funny that he told the media. 

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Logan Sargeant: would make it most of the way, but just fall short by like 4 days.

He had done so well, ignoring all of your sexual advances for the majority of the month…

Then he got drunk. 

Drunk Logan and drunk you? Yeah, you’re fucking. 

He couldn’t keep his hands off you, and he paid the price. 

He paid up sheepishly the next day, George looked at him with the smuggest smile ever. 

Logan didn’t even care. He fucked you twice as much as before. 

He has to make up for lost time, right? 

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Daniel Riccardo: he would lose immediately.

This man is a 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓀 

He would kind of do the same thing as Lewis, pay to just watch the rest of them loose. 

He does last a little bit longer though (in their eyes).

 He doesn’t pay up until the second week even though he’s been fucking you the entire time. 

He has absolutely no shame about it either. 

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Liam Lawson: he would almost win.

He's such a cutie. I think he’d somehow abstain for a while. 

He’d get to around the 26th, and then give up. 

The month was torture though. 

You literally would beg him every night, and he would just have to say no. 

You were impressed at how long he lasted. 

But then he gave in after he scored points in mexico...

Yuki ratted him out to George, he was very embarrassed.

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Charles LeClerc: he would lose immediately.

Charles is an idiot. 

He would lose the first day by accident, and then try to pretend that it doesn't count until George actually comes knocking on his drivers room door looking for the money. 

He heard you, of course. 

Charles reluctantly watches the rest of the month play out, bitter that his own forgetfulness took him out so early. 

He vows to win next year. 

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Carlos Sainz: wouldn’t do it. 

He’s not giving up fucking you for a month. No way. 

He also wouldn’t be interested in the sex lives of others enough to even pay into it like Lewis. 

His sex life is his own, and as much as he loves healthy competition, this is a race he’s happy to lose. 

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Max Verstappen: would be a huge bitch all month.

Dude is like a moody teenager when he’s not getting it. 

Daniel persuades him to do it and he makes it a few days in.

Literally turns into the biggest moody bitch ever.

By the 8th day everyone is begging you to just fuck him so he’ll stop being such a cunt to them.

You do. 

He pays up and spends the rest of the month fucking you. 

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Paul Aron: he would almost win.

He would last pretty long. Like maybe more than half the month

Despite his playboy facade, he’s actually more into cuddles and shit like that. 

 But after a bad race…

Yeah, he pays up with zero shame. 

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Arthur LeClerc: he would lose, in two ways. 

Y’know how quickly Charles lost, yeah he’d be worse.

He wouldn’t forget, he’d just think that he can get away with fucking you all month but of course, that doesn’t happen.

George comes knocking after Charles tells him he can hear you two.

You are deeply embarrassed that your boyfriend's brother heard you two having sex, and you impose a ban for the rest of the month. 

You say it’ll help you both be more aware of when and where you’re doing it, and how to not get caught by his brother again. 

He curses out his brother the next time he sees him.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[futuretechhub-in]

Top 14 Power-packed C# Interview Questions and Answers 2023

Prepare for your programming interview with our comprehensive C# interview questions and answers collection. Boost confidence and master C# concepts. Start learning now! ( oops interview questions in c#)

Top 14 C# Inquiries Questions Answers 2023

Presentation

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[trashytracktales]

https://www.tumblr.com/trashytracktales/778028575513280512/hey-babe-i-cant-stop-thinking-about-lando-fucking

a fic like this would probably kill me, just saying...👀

Season opener | LN⁴

🔸️ inspired by this ask

🔸️ summary ──── After securing his first win of the season, Lando can’t wait to celebrate with his girlfriend.

🔸️ pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

🔸️ rating ──── explicit

🔸️ warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, descriptive language, smut, swearing, semi-public setting, desperate!Lando, unprotected sex (against the wall), mild praise kink and possessiveness, overstimulation, interrupted intimacy (oops 👀).

🔸️ word count ──── 2.7k

🔸️ date ──── Mar. 25, 2025

🔸️ a/n ──── Here’s a little quickie to hold you over before I drop a 10k (so far) one-shot later this week. That mf has been living rent-free in my brain for a month now, and if I don’t end up posting it, you guys officially have permission to throw tomatoes at me. Enjoy this while you wait 💋

THERE’S STILL A lot of noise ringing in Lando’s ears, even as he’s dragged from one obligation to the next. The podium was nice, the feeling of being drowned in champagne and cheers always welcome, even though it can get really uncomfortable. It’s been a weekend full of twists and turns that, thankfully, is coming to a happy ending for him. But the real celebration awaits in his driver’s room.

However, it seems like the universe has decided to taunt him some extra today, with the post-race interviews where every question feels like it stretches time longer than naturally possible, and the conference where he has to relive every lap, as if there weren’t thousands of cameras that captured every angle of the race.

A real-life purgatory, that’s what it feels like.

His body is still running hot, adrenaline refusing to settle and, trough it all, there’s only one thought consuming his mind. He’s trying not to think about her, though, or the orange mini dress she picked out weeks ago for the season opener. He even tries not to imagine the curves of her body every time he blinks or to hear her soft voice in his mind, that sweet whimper that makes him more tense with every touch.

Lando grips the back of his neck as he listens to another useless question, his patience wearing thin. He can still feel the weight of her teary eyes on him earlier, the way she had smiled at him when he climbed out of the car. It was quick, a moment stolen in the chaos, but he caught it. It was theirs. And ever since, he’s been aching to get back to his girlfriend.

From the conference he is dragged straight to the debriefing and, by the time that finally ends, Lando is already moving before anyone can stop him; he mutters something about needing a minute and storms down the hall. His race suit is still damp from sweat and champagne, hugging his muscles, the collar pulled loose where he had yanked at it earlier. His curls are a mess, damp at the roots, and his entire body is vibrating with something more than just the thrill of the first win of the season.

He doesn’t hesitate at all when he reaches his room. Just opens the door eagerly, closing it just as quickly. The second he sees her, his stomach flips.

She’s already standing up from the little couch, her face lighting up the moment she realizes it’s him. “Congratulations, my lo—”

Lando is on her in an instant, crossing the small space with long steps and grabbing her waist, lifting her off the ground. She gasps in surprise, laughing breathlessly as her arms wrap around his neck, her fingers threading into his damp curls at the back of his head.

“Oh! Someone missed me, I see,” she giggles, breathing against his cheek.

Lando exhales deeply, his chest heaving, hands tightening around her hips. He can’t think straight, can’t focus on anything but her warmth against him, the scent of her sweet perfume mixing with the sharp tang of champagne on his suit.

“You have no idea. I was losing my fucking mind,” he admits, chuckling in return. He presses his forehead against hers, his breath hot. Purposely, his hands slide down her back, pressing her flush against him. “Thought about you the whole time. Could barely focus.”

Before she can catch her breath, her back meets the hard surface of the nearest wall. Another startled gasp leaves her lips, swallowed instantly by his mouth, his kiss demanding in ways she’s felt it before.

But not like this.

It’s the kind of kiss that takes her by surprise, leaves her thoughtless and very, very aroused. The dress has already lifted up her thighs, and they’re squeezing around him as if Lando could get out of her embrace if she’s not careful. What soothes her, however, is the fact that he is the one who pushes himself even harder against her, pressing his chest against hers until he almost leaves her out of breath.

Lando’s race suit is tight around his body, but he doesn’t have enough energy to care about anything else but her. All he knows is the way her lips part, letting him in like she has no choice, the way her fingers grip his shoulders, and the way his entire body feels like it’s still racing. Only now, it’s for and because of her.

She deepens the kiss, messy and uncoordinated, teeth grazing and tongues tangling in a tender yet rushed desire. Her hands run up the expanse of his arms, feeling the tension in his muscles as he holds her up effortlessly, her feet barely touching the ground. His biceps flex under her touch, and the realization that he’s holding back, restraining himself just enough so he doesn’t break her against that wall, only makes her more pliable in his arms.

“In here?” she asks between kisses.

Lando lets out a little noise while exhaling, feeling her heat pressed against him even through layers of clothing. One of his hands moves, lifting her dress even higher, until it hangs somewhere around the middle of her waist. His fingers are hungrily skimming her bare skin, until they find the waistband of her panties. He doesn’t have enough patience to tease. Just pulls at them, dragging the thin fabric down her thighs and letting it pool at her ankles.

“That answers your question?” asks Lando, feeling her nails digging into his shoulders as she tries to steady herself.

“Mhm,” she lets out a shaky breath, “So eager.”

Lando grins, shrugging, “Got some adrenaline left I need to burn off.”

He groans in frustration as he fumbles with his zipper, refusing to let go of her even for a second. Finally, he yanks it down just enough, his breath heavy as he works himself free with a sharp hiss. In all the rush, Lando’s hands won’t stay away from her hips for too long, keeping her exactly where he needs her.

The girl watches him, eyes filled with amusement despite the heat between them. Then she laughs, a silky sound that makes his heart race in his chest. Lando looks at her and something tender flickers in his gaze, even as he pushes his hips forward, even as the impatience still coils hot in his veins.

“You think this is funny?” he asks, lips curving into a smirk.

She shakes her head, though still amused at the image in front of her, and the way he’s so impatient he can’t even get out of the suit properly. “Nope. I think it’s hilarious.”

Lando scoffs dramatically, like he can’t believe her audacity. “Oh, yeah?” he challenges, his voice lower now. “Let’s see how funny you find this, then.”

Before she can throw another quip his way, his hand slides between her thighs, fingers trailing over her entrance with a lazy kind of intent. She sucks in a breath, all the amusement vanishing in a blink of an eye, her head knocking back against the wall as her body responds to his familiar touch.

Lando watches her reaction, the smirk widening on his flushed face. “Shit, you’re right,” he agrees, dipping his fingers in just enough to make her shudder. “It is hilarious,” he tilts his head, pretending to think. “Yeah. Getting wet so quickly almost has me rolling on the floor.”

He slides his fingers up and down her opening, then pushes two at once inside, curling them right before pulling out, only to make her squirm. Her thighs tighten around his waist, demanding more, but it’s not about her right now. It’s about him, making it a moment worthy of the Winner’s Room.

He’s painfully hard next time he cups himself, and the first press of his cock against her clit sends a shiver up her spine. Lando drags his length down her folds with uncharacteristic patience, until the distance between them diminishes completely, and he kisses her again, lazier than before. Their world becomes substantially smaller, and there’s just hot skin, erratic breathing, and the slick, aching need to be as close as possible. He lines himself up and thrusts in one smooth motion, punching a moan from her lips that she barely manages to swallow down.

Lando lets his forehead fall to hers, chuckling gently. “Not too loud, yeah?”

She shakes her head, “Don’t ruin the fun.”

He’s buried inside her, stretching so sweet that it sends a full-body shudder through her. The wall behind is harsh, but all she can focus on is the way he fills her completely. How he holds her there, with no chance to slip away. Not that she wants to be anywhere else but here, right now, with him.

Lando’s fingers grip her tighter as he pulls back, then slams into her again, feeling her walls pulsing faster around his cock. A broken whimper escapes her, her head falling defeated on his shoulder. It makes him curse under his breath, finally finding a rhythm that’s both deep and devastating. Each thrust forces a soft cry from her throat, her body moving in unison with his, nails raking down his sweaty back.

The way she pulls him in turns Lando on even more, the only sounds between them the ragged breaths and the wet, obscene noises of him fucking her right there, against the wall.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” exclaims Lando, biting down on her shoulder, his hips snapping up harder.

She lets out a hiss, her head is spinning while pleasure is building gradually, her body burning from the inside out. She fists his curls, dragging his mouth back to hers, swallowing his groans as she squeezes him.

“That’s so good, baby. Shit. Keep doing that.”

The way she feels around him, the way she moans and gasps his name, the way her body reacts to him like she was made for him — everything gets too much for Lando. Yet, he somehow finds himself craving more of her. His movements grow sloppier, pushing him to drive into her faster.

“Lando…” she moans his name in a whisper, cupping his face with the intention to kiss him. But the way he’s moving inside her makes her weak, so she ends up holding on to him with limited strength, like her life depends on it.

And right now, it does.

Their eyes meet just as he lifts her thigh higher on his waist, the small adjustment allowing him to sink deeper.

“Fuck, Lando,” she whines, her voice barely more than a breath. “You feel so—”

He doesn’t let her finish. A hard thrust has her choking on her words, and the way she clenches down around him makes his jaw go slack.

“Yes, tell me,” he urges, his voice too unsteady, hanging on by a thread, while his fingers press into the curve of her waist like he’s trying to brand himself into her skin.

She loses it, her hands tugging at his hair just to hear his little noises in return. “Feel so good, love,” she breathes heavily, her head falling back, exposing her throat. “Fucking me so good.”

A guttural curse escapes him, dragging her against him with a pace that makes her cry out in pleasure. “That so?” he rasps, his teeth grazing her jaw before his lips claim hers, swallowing every desperate sound she makes. “Then take it, baby,” he orders gently, “All of it. All for you.”

“Shit—don’t stop,” she begs, her eyes teary because of how tense with pleasure her body gets.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replies, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “Feel how perfect you are? How fucking tight, hm? That’s it,” he encourages her, watching the way her lashes flutter open to look at him. “Gonna let me feel you fall apart?” asks Lando, going somehow even deeper with each thrust.

Her back arches, a broken moan spilling from her lips. She’s so full and desperate to come, and he knows she’s close; her whines and the way her body reacts giving it away in the most obvious way.

“Need you, Lan,” she breathes in spasms, “Please.”

“I can see that, baby. Come on,” he grits out, his movements turning frantic. “Let me have it.”

Her body trembles at his words, at the sheer heat in his voice. The way he holds her, firm and possessive, sends her spiraling. Every thrust, every rough snap of his hips only winds her tighter, like he’s pulling her apart piece by piece just to put her back together again.

“Lan-do,” she breathes, voice breaking on his name. “I… oh, fuck,” she can barely think anymore, barely breathe with the way he’s fucking into her, like stopping isn’t even an option.

His hand slides up her side, gripping the back of her neck, tilting her head so she has no choice but to meet his gaze again. His eyes are way too dark now, blown wide with lust, sending another wave of heat flooding through her veins. He goes harder when he sees the desire on her face, pushing her further against the wall, and she lets out a high-pitched moan before biting her lip, remembering where they are.

“Wanna feel you all over my cock,” she hears him saying, but she’s so overstimulated now that can’t quite process the meaning of his words. She’s not sure she’s even breathing as Lando presses his body against her with more force, continuing, “Be a good girl and let go for me.”

That’s all it takes. Her body seizes, her head spinning as pleasure rips through her, hot and intense. And endless. She clenches around him, pulsing, shaking, and the feeling, the sight of her unraveling for him, sends Lando spiraling too.

He chokes out a curse, burying his face in her neck as he surrenders, his hips pressing deep and desperate to keep her close as he fills her. The warmth spreads between them, spilling down her thighs, and the sheer filthiness of it only makes her moan, her fingers flying to curl in his hair once again.

Lando rests his forehead against hers, panting, his lips ghosting over her cheek. He doesn’t move away just yet. Instead, he pulls out, and a sharp whimper escapes her as she feels the mess they’ve made drip down her thighs.

Then, without warning, he pushes back in making her gasp silently this time, her hands gripping his shoulders.

“Wait, Lan,” she almost cries, her voice raw.

He keeps her still while he rolls his hips, slow and teasing, his other hand trailing down her stomach before settling low on her belly.

She shudders at the touch and at the way he’s still so deep inside of her, tilting her head and blinking heavy-lidded. “Wh—what are you doing?”

Lando barely hears her. His attention is caught on where they’re still connected, mesmerized by the way his cock glistens with their release as he continues to lazily move in and out. He watches the way her spent body still takes him in, so perfectly, his jaw clenching as pleasure coils in his gut all over again. It sends his head spinning, the wet sensation of skin on skin almost maddening.

Every shift, every sudden flutter of her walls around him, threatens to pull him under completely.

“Fuck, baby,” his raspy voice is laced with adoration. “I can look at you all day.”

Her body is already responding before her mind can catch up. She clenches around him again and again, and Lando chuckles lowly, the sound rich with satisfaction.

“Oh, shit! You like that, don’t you? Hearing how good of a girl you are for me, hm?”

She nods and, without meaning to, she tightens around him harder.

Lando’s grin turns smug. “Yeah, you do,” his hips still for a beat, his hands flexing against her waist before he gives her one hard thrust that knocks the air from her lungs. “Like that, baby,” he groans, the words dripping with heat. “Keep me in.”

The sensation of her pulling him even deeper rips a moan straight from his throat, and Lando drops his forehead to her shoulder, breathing heavily.

“Fucking hell, you’re killing me,” he rasps, pressing an open-mouthed kiss against her damp skin. “Swear to God, I’ll come again if you—”

“Lando?” a muffled, familiar voice rings out from the other side of the door, accompanied by knocking. “Your parents are waiting, mate. You good in there?”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ MASTERLIST . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2025

[kathaynesart]

Frankly Sir, the whole procedure was a joke.  For all their power they’re just a bunch of undisciplined runts.  The leader was the only one halfway decent at lying to my face and he broke upon seeing the Key.  

Were you able to gather any further information in regards to the Key’s whereabouts?  

None yet.  However, it’s obvious that these mutants were involved somehow…

…Do you suspect they had a hand in acquiring the Key for the enemy?

I… can’t say for certain yet.  However, I doubt any sort of intentional collaboration occurred. 

And what of their origin?

Obviously falsified.  But to what degree I can’t say.  The DNA samples however have been far more enlightening. 

How so?

They’re different from other mutants, human or animal.  They’re completely free of the usual abnormalities.  It’s almost as if… they were designed to be what they are. Instead of just some freak accident.  

…Your final assessment, then?  Given the information you’ve gathered it appears they should be immobilized and transported for further testing.

With all due respect, Sir, I wouldn’t dare hand them over to the labs.  I’m not about to let those coats dissect the only edge we now have against the Krang.  Frankly I don’t care if they’re turtles or humans or even more aliens. They’re the best chance we have at winning this war.  Given the state of things I feel they will side with our cause.

…Then, so long as they prove useful, I shall defer to you, Agent Bishop. Keep in mind that it is EPF‘s job not only to protect the people of Earth from threats such as the Krang but from those within our own walls.  It will be your job to keep them under constant surveillance.  And should they step out of line in the slightest…

I understand, Sir.  

~~~

I wasn't going to post this, but I have been receiving a number of questions in regards to the interview / interrogation. While I don't think this scene is necessary reading material, it does shed some light on what to expect for the Holiday Special and the boys' place within the Central Park Colony. I have way too much stuff in my head that will never see the light of day, so here, have a snippet.

NOTE: also... I may have realized that I accidentally put the wrong colony name in the interview comic >_< It should be the CENTRAL PARK COLONY that's interviewing them, NOT the LIBERTY COLONY (which is the better, less racist one that they create years later). 5,000 likes and reblogs later and it has now been corrected, oops. Ehehe I apologize for any confusion this may have caused.

[harrysxcarolina]

oh, it’s my turn now

b. eilish

warnings: wlw, fluff, soft smut, bottom!billie, Billie receiving, teasing, flirting, cussing, mention of alcohol consumption, a sweet treat in honor of the grammys, partial proof read… oops!

Your are an upcoming artist and have been nominated for your first Grammy. Not expecting to win but beyond honored and grateful for the opportunity to be suggested along side some of the best artists in the industry. Not realizing that you have many secret admirers, one unbeknownst to you, you’ve spent the night gushing about some of the people you were excited to see. With your buzzing excitement and raging nerves you didn’t realize just how often you mentioned one person in particular. Your celebrity crush.

As the night unfolds, you accept your first Grammy, getting talk in to attending an after party by your team, to help broaden your social networking, you may have enjoyed your night a little too much with one too many cocktails. Unbeknownst to you, catching the eyes of many. You were glowing. Every step you took. The smile radiating off your cheeks. You were beyond proud. Excited. And honestly just in shock. Thanking all the congratulations with polite nods and smiles you welcome the end of the night.

You weren’t exactly sure what happened on the carpet as the nerves took over your body. You remember bits and pieces and you certainly didn’t remember gushing about your celebrity crush on national television nonstop.

So to your surprise the morning after to your phone being blown up with different videos and edits of interviews from last night of you announcing your crush on the one and only Billie Eilish.

You two weren’t well acquainted, but have spoken at past events and have flirted, lowkey stolen a couple glances, and smirks at one another but neither of you ever taking that next step of crossing that line. You weren’t sure why, you’d be open to it. Can anyone really blame you though? Not only is she gorgeous, but she’s kind, extremely funny, flirty (you love a good flirt, what can you say.)

But one thing you definitely weren’t prepared for was a message on tik tok from said crush, mixed in with your notifications.

Nearly dropping your phone you freeze. Your heart is beating against your chest. Not sure what exactly was gonna be played in the video attached to the message you glance down once again at your phone. Not processing what was happening in front you.

BILLIE EILISH

1 new message 10 hours ago

*video link shared*

Hi pretty girl, I’ve been waiiiittttttinnnn for yaaaa 😌

Waiting so patiently for you…

With a shaky hand you pick up your phone and click on the video. It’s a snippet of one of last nights interviews.

Amelia was the one asking you the question everyone has been wondering.

“So, any new crushes?!” She asked with a raised eyebrow and small smirk.

Biting your lip trying to fight the smirk working its way across your cheeks. Your hands fidget with the lace in your dress as you avoid looking at the camera. Your cheeks heat up with the blush slowly creeping up on you.

“You know I’ve really been crushing on one girl in particular…” you say shyly as you brush a piece of fallen hair behind your ear. Hopeful to hide some of the blush and bashfulness. Giving a quick glance to the camera a small pout on your lips.

“Ohh do tell girl. I’m dying for the tea” Amelia teases as she gently pushes your shoulder.

“I probably shouldn’t-“ you say a nervous chuckle leaves your lips.

“Girl c’mon don’t tease me, please, I promise I won’t tell.” She jokes making the both of you lose it in a fit of giggles. Slightly leaning into each other as you embrace the moment. Loving the fact that she is slowly helping eat away at the nerves building up inside your tummy.

“I’m actually lowkey jealous of you girl, you’ve been on a date with her.” You say with a pout and a soft nudge to her shoulder causing Amelia to laugh. “Tell me. Right now. I want to know.” Amelia demands a smirk on her face.

Taking a quick glance at the camera a shy smirk is played on your cheeks. “I mean-“ you chuckle biting your lip with a shrug off your shoulders. “It’s Billie.” You state looking at Amelia, your bottom lip between your teeth, waiting for her reaction.

“Shut the front door! You guys would be so fucking cute!” She says gushing at you in excitement. You laugh and shake your head glancing around the carpet. Trying to distract yourself from the raging butterflies in your stomach and the heat rushing to your cheeks.

That’s where the video ends.

You’re left speechless. Exiting out of the video you stare at Billie’s messages. Gently tapping your fingers on the edge of your phone as contemplate on a reply. The butterflies are fluttering dangerously fast in the pit of your stomach. You keep repeating her words in your head. The utter realization that Billie now knows along with the rest of the world knows about your crush on her.

I’ve been waiiiittttttinnnn for yaaaa

Waiting so patiently for you

Your fingers type feverishly across your screen before your nerves can talk yourself out of it.

***

You sit nervously fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. Glancing around the buzzing restaurant hoping to catch sight of the blue eyed girl you planned to meet here casually sipping on the water placed in front of you. Looking down at your phone checking the time you still have a few minutes before your agreed time to meet up, but you being you always had to be early to things. Wanting to make sure to give yourself plenty of time to prepare yourself to be on a date with a girl you’ve been crushing on for a while.

You smell the hint of her perfume before you see her sitting down in front of you. A smirk hung across her face as she sits down and adjust her pants getting herself comfortable. A blush rushes across your cheeks as you take her in. Her long dark locks cascading down her shoulders as she sports a black bandana around the crown on her head. Her piercing blues eyes outlined with black eyeliner and mascara as they hide behind the glasses resting on the bridge of her nose.

Her baggy shirt hanging loosely off her torso, but showing off her curves perfectly. Her jeans hanging just off her hips as the belt securely tugs the material around her hips.

Her bottom lip hides between her teeth as she takes you in as well.

The night goes flawlessly as you both enjoy dinner sharing laughs, smirks, flirty eyes, and the occasional knees brushing under the table, your hands brushing as you pass the salt and pepper back and forth. You breath catches every time, your eyes quickly shooting up to met hers not missing the way her cheeks heat up to a pretty rosy pink anytime you make contact. Her bottom lip slightly swollen as an after math of her teeth nervously nibbling away at it. You can practically feel the heat radiating off the both of you.

The tension getting thicker through out the night as you both shamelessly flirt and banter back and forth. You can’t deny the connection you already feel between the both of you. Taking in all her little details as your eyes trace across her face. Noting all her quirks as her eyes brows twitch in response to a joke you say as you watch her throw her head back in laughter. The way she nervously fidgets with the rings that take claim to her fingers as she talks about the things she is passionate about. The way the light reflecting off her ocean blue eyes leaves you wandering in the waves of wanting to know all the thoughts floating around in that pretty head of hers.

Before you know it the staff notify you that they are getting ready to close up for the night. Not realizing how much time you’ve spent sitting here sharing stories and asking each other questions to hopefully help you both get to know each other on a different level. Smiling politely at the staff mumbling a soft apology as you reach for you purse to care of the bill but are stop before you could even get your bag unzipped. Billie handing her card to the waiter and shushing you as she dismisses your protests.

Stating that it was her treat and how she wanted to. Offering you comforting reassurance that she had a great time, and that she would happily pay for your dinner again if you let her. A smirk playing on her face as she lays her hand across the small of your back. Leading you out the restaurant into the dimly light street. You feel the heat spread across your lower back from the pressure of her fingers rubbing soothing shapes over the fabric of your dress.

The cool breeze brushes through your hair as you both stroll towards your parked cars. Not wanting the night to end as you stand there tightly clutching the straps of your purse not sure what to do with your hands as they itch desperately to trail down her warm skin.

“I had a really good time tonight.” Billie quietly admits as you reach your car. Glancing up at you through her lashes her bashfulness showing through as she takes a step towards you. Her hand reaching out and gently grasping your hips. Your breath hitches as you look down taking in her hand on your hip. Your heart beating so fast against your chest you pray that she couldn’t hear it. Her fingers flexing across your hip.

“Me too. Do you maybe wanna go back to my place?” You rush out not fully realizing what you were saying before you said it. You cheeks heat up in embarrassment. Clutching your purse tighter as you look down at your shoes. Hopeful you didn’t give off the wrong impression. You just weren’t ready to end the night. You felt so safe and comfortable in her presence and you wanted to be greedy and hold onto it a little bit longer.

Her smile is evident as she tilts your head up to meet hers. Her eyes sparkling with a hit of mischief as her response brushes across your face.

“I thought you’d never ask.” She admits as she suggests following you back to your place but not before she lays a soft peck across your cheek.

“Drive safe pretty girl,” She whispers across the shell of your ear before she backs away and heads towards her car.

***

Swiftly unlocking your front door and quickly tossing your keys on the coffee stand right inside the door. Barely having enough time to get through the door before Billie has her hands back on your hips pressing you tightly between her and the door. Your hands tangling themselves deep into her dark locks as your lips battle for dominance. A low moan echos off Billies lips as she trails her kisses down your jaw to your neck.

Head tilting back as your eyes clench shut. Billies hands roaming your lower torso as her lips leave open mouth kisses down your neck. Your grip in her hair tightening as she finds your sweet spot. Sucking and nibbling your skin until she’s satisfied. Hips bucking up against hers in response as her teeth graze across your hot skin. Her tongue soothing the red mark she left behind. Growling as her hips press harder against yours as she gently rocks herself against you.

“You know how long I’ve been waiting for you?” She whimpers against your neck. Her hand sliding under the hem of your shirt as her fingertips tease your waistline. Wanting to feel the small hitches in your breathing as she slowly moves her fingertips higher up. Not able to fully form words, to far gone from the feeling of her lips on your neck and her hands roaming your body you shake your head. Her breath hot against your skin as she peppers kisses across your jaw. Her fingertips reaching your under boob stopping briefly to glance up at you silently asking permission. A slight nod is all she needed for a response as she captures your clothed breast in her hand. Whimpering and arching your back off the door as she gropes your breast. Rubbing your sensitive nub through the fabric in your bra causing your head to get dizzy.

You legs wobble slightly trying to engrave the feeling of her lips on your skins as she traces your tongue across you salty skin. Urging her to move things into the bedroom so you can not only get your hands on her, but to also aid in a more comfortable surface.

Body’s tangling together as your back hits your mattress. Billie falling on top of you as her lips don’t miss as beat as she cups your cheek and reconnects your lips. Swallowing her moans as you buck your hips up against her as she slowly slides your shirt up your torso. Tossing it somewhere on the floor as her eyes trace down your body. Her hands gripping your hips as her thumbs gently brush against your warm skin.

A bashful smile works its way across your cheeks as you stare up at her catching her gaze as your hands guide her to rest across your lap. Placing her thighs on either side of your hips her hands return to warm skin. Watching as your chest heaves softly up and down. Brushing the fallen pieces of hair out of her face as she leans down and kisses across your chest. Moaning against your skin as your run your hands up and down her spine pressing her close to you. Her hand sliding down from your cheek to your neck as she deepens the kiss.

Her tongue gently moves across your lower lip patiently waiting for permission to taste you. Tilting your head as your grant her access your hands gripping the hem of her shirt slowly tugging it up her body. Groaning at the fact the both of you still have too much clothing on. Breaking apart from your kiss to remove her shirt the rest of the way before reaching behind her and removing her bra clasp. Smirking down at you as she slowly slides the straps down her shoulders as her breast feel free.

You feel the pool of wetness between your thighs as you moan at the sight in front of you. Her breast sitting perfectly at eye level as your teeth capture your bottom lip. Letting your mind run wild of all the things you want to do with the pretty girl sitting on top of you. Gripping her hips and gently laying her back against the bed. Whispering against her skin, my turn, as your trace your lips down her naked chest.

Making sure to give equal attention as you kiss across her cleavage. Leaving a trail of wet kisses as you look up at her through your lashes. A soft smile spreads across your face as your take in the sight above you.

Her hair sprawled out as her back slightly arches off the bed. Silently begging you to wrap your lips around her aching buds. Her swollen lips and a rosy pink as her pearly white teeth lay their claim against it. Her hands clenching the lose blankets as you graze your teeth across her goosebump covered skin. Getting closer and closer to her perky nipples.

Clasping her buds between your lips as your tongue flicks, sucks, and twists her nipples. Her moans echoing off the walls and into your hears as her hands grasp your head holding you tightly against her. Her hips bucking up uncontrollably against your heated core. You feel the tight pull deep in your core as you become addicted to her pretty moans. Wanting and needed to hear them more.

Working your lips to her other breast your fingers slide their way up from her hip making sure to twist and pull her nipple between your fingertips in time with the flicks of your tongue on her opposite nipple. Her hands tightly tangling themselves in your hair as you release her nipple and work your lips down between her breast. Teasing her skin with the tip of your tongue letting her hands gently control the movement of your head as your leave a trail of kisses in your wake. You can feel her breath hitch as you kiss across her hipbones. You fingers tapping their way up her clothed thigh reaching for her belt. You fingers fumble briefly as you unclasp it and hear the slight chuckle rolling off Billies lips.

Refusing to look up at her as the heat radiates off your cheeks as your unbuckle her pants and slide them down her legs. Taking a moment to pause and really look at her. Tucking a piece of fallen out behind your ear Billie leaning up and cupping your cheek once more. Laying a soft peck to your lips as her thumb brushes against your pink cheeks.

“You’re cute when you blush,” She states as you feel her smile against your lips. Chuckling softly in return as you gently cup her face. Looking up at her not fully believing the events of the last couple days. Her eyes flicker between yours and your lips as she kisses you once more as her hands glide around your torso and up your back. Unclasping your bra and slowly sliding it down with her fingertips. Pulling apart briefly, your foreheads lean against each other as your breast fall free. Her free hand is quick to grope your breast as yours gently spread her thighs. Head falling to her shoulder as she twists and pulls on your nipple. Her lips hot on your skin as your fingers slowly trace up her thigh getting dangerously close to her dripping core.

Moaning as you spread her wetness around teasing her clit with your fingertips gloating at the way her hips buck against your fingers and the way she quietly whimpers in your ear.

“Lay back for me,” you moan as you gently push her back onto the bed and wiggle your way down between her thighs. Her hooded eyes watching your every move as your kisses along her thigh. Your eyes never faltering from hers as you inch your lips closer and closer to her core. She can’t stop herself from wiggling under your touch as you trace your lips everywhere but where she desperately needed them.

“Fuck, please-” she begs as her head tilts back on the pillow her hands grasping at the bed sheets. Her hips bucking up brushing against your lips, causing her to lose herself in another around of moans. Grinning against her skin, wrapping your arms around her hips pinning her torso back down on the bed. Tisking her as your lips kiss up and down her lips. Gently blowing hot air against her wet folds as you look up at her through your lashes.

“What was that?” You reply with a smirk leaving a kiss on her mound. Moving one of her hands to your hair as she bucks her hips up once again. Silently begging you to do anything. Anything at all to the relieve the ache that was building between her thighs. “Please,” she whimpers once more. Her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Please what baby? I need words.” You retort mockingly as you gently flick the tip of your tongue between her folds. Her spread legs shaking slightly as her hips try to grind against your wet muscle. Her groans getting louder as you can feel her frustration from all the pent up tension between the two of you. “You gonna tell me what you want?” You ask as you place a chaste kiss in the crease of her pelvis gently nibbling at her skin. Her back arching off the bed at your soft mocking tone.

“I want- fuck- I want your tongue,” she begs. “I want your fucking tongue. Please!” She gasps as you moan in response. Not needed to be told twice as you dive in between her folds. Relishing in her taste across your buds. Gripping her hips and pulling her tighter against your mouth lapping up everything and anything she’s offering you. Flicking your tongue across her swollen clit. Her hips rotating against you as you slide your tongue between her folds. Working her clit fast and hard as you flatten your tongue out aiding in grinding her hips against your face as you slide your hand up her torso searching for her perky breast. Moaning into her heated core as your rock yourself against the cool sheets twisting and pulling on her nipple as your tongue works faster against her. Sucking her clit gently grazing the sensitive bud between your teeth as Billie looses all control as her legs shake and tremble around your head. Her hands gripping your hair tighter, pulling your face further into her core as you slide your fingers between her folds spreading around her wetness as you steal a quick glance up at her.

You lips and tongue not faltering as you tease her with the tip of your middle finger. Her breathing getting heavier the more you tease her. Her whimpers are soft and sweet as you slowly thrust your fingers fully between her lips. The both of you moaning at the feeling of you finally being between her thighs. Her mouth making a perfect o as you twist and flex your fingers against her walls.

“God, pretty girl, you feel so fucking good.” Billie moans out as she licks her lips looking down at the sight of you between her legs. Sitting up to get a better view of you, with the support of her arms, groaning as she watches your work your tongue between her folds and then back up to her clit. Sucking her deeper into your mouth as you curve your fingers just right searching for her sweet spot. Her head falling back on her shoulders as she groans out in ecstasy.

“Shiiit, yes right there, fuck-” she moans as she holds your head against her core grinding her hips against your warm mouth.

Working your tongue faster as your fingers seep deeper hitting that spongy sweet spot over and over again. Your fingers digging deep into her hip bone with the hand pinning her down on your bed as you feel her begin to clench around your fingers. Squeezing you so tightly as her breath hitches.

“Fuck, keep sucking my clit like that Mamas. I’m going to cum all over- fuck- I’m going to cum all over that pretty mouth of yours.” She declares as you thrust your fingers deeper, sucking her clit deeper into your warm mouth as your tongue flicks and licks away at her sensitive nerve bundle. Her body goes stiff as your feel her clenching around your fingers. Grinding her hips faster against your mouth and fingers feeling the intense build up for her orgasm consuming not only her body but thoughts. That your were making her feel better than she ever had, and that she never wanted it to end.

Rotating your wrist as you help ride out her high for as long as possible. Her breath ragged as her chest heaves up and down. Your tongue laying soft kitten licks along her core. Sliding your fingers gently from between her legs as you kiss your way up her body. Her body jerking slightly from overstimulation as you hear her softly hum. Kissing between the valley of her breast as you slither your hips between hers. Bucking your hips unintentionally against her as you feel her wetness soaks into the front of your pants. Billie hissing as her hands slide up your naked back. Teasing your spine with her fingertips as you kiss your way to her lips. Laying a sweet kiss on her lips before you snuggle into her neck. You feel her heart beat under your fingertips as you trace soothing shapes across her cleavage. A smirk working its way across your face.

“So you’ve been waiting on me huh?” you snort in her neck as her hips grip your hips. A soft hum is heard above you before you feel her lips pressing to your forehead.

Her smirk evident as she quickly flips you over. Laying beneath her as her hands brace herself on either side of your head.

“You have no idea,” she chuckles as she glances down at your half naked body. Her hips pinning yours to the bed as she captures your lips between hers. The kiss is heated and rushed as if she would be worried you’d disappear.. Groaning against you lips as her teeth capture your bottom lip. Gently pulling and letting go with a pop as she trails kisses across your jaw landing right below your earlobe.

“Now it’s my turn,” she growls in your ear leaving her mark all along your neck as she plans all the ways she’s going to have you. Moaning at the endless possibilities.

[5sospenguinqueen]

Team Betrayal | Red Bull! Reader x Platonic! Grid

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N races for Red Bull but when she's caught out drinking another brand, she enacts her revenge until the Grid outs her snitched.

Apologies but this is a female reader.

Warning: Bad writing. I'm not sure what this is but it was prompted between an energy drink dilemma I had the other day.

There is no timeline for this. Make it up.

Main Masterlist.

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

Swiping away the sweat that ran down the back of her neck, Y/N grinned at the camera, drinking in the euphoric energy enveloping her on all sides.

"Thank you for joining us after such a long day." The interviewer beamed, pleased to have been able to catch the Red Bull racer before debrief started. "How're you feeling? You look absolutely drenched."

"Yes. Max thought he was funny tipping the entire can of Red Bull over my head. I'll wash my hair three times and still go home smelling of the stuff." Y/N joked, dabbing the drop of sticky liquid rolling down her forehead.

Pleased that the conversation had naturally developed down that path, the interviewer smirked at the camera before turning their attention back to you. "So, you've been driving for Red Bull for 2 years now? Is it safe to say you're also a big fan of the drink?"

She laughed nervously, unsure why such an odd question was being asked after a Grand Prix. Usually the media used this opportunity to ask how she felt about losing/her teammate winning. Again. "Who isn't?" Y/N joked.

Whipping out her phone, the interviewer (dressed in traitorous McLaren orange) thrust it in front of her face. The grin from Y/N's face instantly dropped as she squinted against the blinding sun. Disbelief painted her face.

"Where did you get that? That's actually me!"

"One of your fellow racers provided it earlier." The interviewer informed, tucking away the damning photo of Y/N drinking a can of Monster Energy, dressed in her Red Bull racing suit and attempting to hide her behaviour behind a laughing Lando Norris.

"Who?!"

"I'm afraid we're not at liberty to say. We promised confidentiality in favour of the photo," teased the interviewer.

"That's my face." Y/N's eyes darkened challengingly. She leaned into the microphone, staring down the camera. "In that case, those boys won't know a moment of peace until I get my answer."

She straightened just as soon after, smile flickering back into place as she heard her name being called. "Oops, I was meant to be in debrief a minute again. Thanks for talking to me. Catch you later!"

"Thank you for your time." The interviewer called after the retreating navy figure. She turned back to the camera. "Ladies and Gentleman, I think it's safe to say that Y/N Y/L/N is as ferocious off the track as she is on it. I don't know about you but I would not want to be a member of the Grid this evening."

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

The interview went viral.

YourUserName this you? (She retweeted with a pic of Lando wearing a Monster Energy hat, a can of Red Bull in hand)

→ LandoNorris no.

User 1 not Lando deliberately lying about his own face

User 2 oh, no. Lando. What have you started?

User 3 not me checking my phone every 2 seconds to see if Y/N has posted after she vowed vengence.

→ Your User Name 👀👀

User 4 don't drag poor Maxie into this. He's always seen drinking Red Bull.

User 5 she never was good enough for the team, hope they drop her after this.

User 6 may as well just go to McLaren with how much time she spends with them.

OscarPiastri just a warning. I can hear her laughing evilly next door.

YourUserName so just to clear a few things up. I have never bought a Monster Energy in my life.

YourUse Name i am always supplied with them by people who are attempting to remain innocent in this scandal.

PierreGASLY yeah, well. My shoes are cleaner than yours so...

→ LandoNorris you sure showed her.

User 7 not the Grid coming for my girl only to end up fighting for their lives.

User 8 coming for his teammate

User 9 not the whole Grid teasing her for betraying Red Bull

User 10 always knew Max didn't like them. This just confirms

YourUserName not you too. You said you had my back

→ Max33Verstappen this is why you didn't get on the podium

Max33Verstappen not my babies?!

→ YourUserName i may not have a podium but I do have your cats.

→ Charles_Leclerc you're making this worse for yourself

→ YourUserName watch out or Leo's next

→ Charles_Leclerc *horrified gasp*

User 11 alex fighting for his innocence.

User 12 the Grid are feeding us tonight.

User 13 what's the odds that they're fighting for their lives in the gc?

User 14 bet they're compiling a list of times they gave her Monster

→ User 15 trying to figure out who might be next

User we found the snitch

User 2 anyone else see Red Bull lurking in the likes?

LandoNorris @ danielricciardo this is why she didn't respond

Max33Verstappen daniel's currently crying.

redbullracing christian said you have a meeting with PR tomorrow.

→ YourUserName crap.

User 3 can we take a moment to appreciate all the Grid content we got this evening?

→ User 4 and look at how quick Y/N's responses were. Boo was ready for them.

→ User 5 what are the odds they were all sitting next to their phones, terrified every time it buzzed

→ lilymhe can confirm.

[jamminvroomvroom]

die for you.

ln x driver!reader

in which you can’t stand each other, or so you say…

this took waaaay too long for me to hate it sm but she’s here! and she’s long! love this concept so much, thank you for this request. so many feels so many vibes, tell me what you think <3

loosely inspired by die for you by the weeknd

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, slight glimpses of she fell first, he fell harder, rivals to lovers/enemies to lovers, choking, hate sex? bar fight, mentions of blood

8.3k words (oop)

it’s rare that you miss a podium, so when you do, it tastes bitter and stings like a bitch.

the car has been on fire all season long, a thing of beauty in your calculated hands. so, the string of bad luck you’re enduring, small mistakes with big consequences, it’s quite the pill to swallow.

out of the car you jump, teeth grinding hard out of frustration. you could see the commotion ahead of you, members of the papaya team celebrating their driver. your eyes roll so hard in your head that you feel a lasting ache. you side step members of your team, dodging every single person that tries to talk to you, your comms officer knowing better than to try and engage with you. you know you’re being unreasonable, it was a p5 finish! but it isn’t a podium or a win, so quite frankly, you aren’t interested, and you certainly don’t have any energy left to hear how amazingly well he had driven.

lando fucking norris.

what was once quiet disdain had grown into fully fledged hatred and you fear you’ll be violently sick if you catch a single glimpse of him on the podium. sure, he’s talented, and sure, he’s beautiful, you suppose. that doesn’t mean you have to like him. not anymore. he lives under your skin, inescapable.

you struggle through every interview in the media pen, most of which dissect your recent fall from grace, your mouth forming a hard, unimpressed line every time they mention the orange goblin and his recent streak of podiums and good luck. you wish the journos would bring up his string of women and the probable plan b receipts that went with them. that, you would love to talk about.

you drive in silence back to your hotel, leaving the track as soon as possible, and quickly find solace in your bed for the night. the idea of seeing the inside of a club makes you nauseous after your epic downfall. as your eyes are drooping, your body going limp under the thick duvet, a knock sounds from the door.

“no.” you shout flatly, but the only response you get are giggles from the hallway. for fuck sake, you mutter, groaning as you shift out from beneath the covers and trail apprehensively towards the door.

george and alex appear before you, and you throw your head back is exasperation.

“mate, it’s 9:30.” alex laughs, taking in your fancy attire; pyjamas that you’ve had since you were 17.

“what’s your point?” you croak, glaring up at your obnoxiously tall friend.

“why aren’t you getting ready to go out?” george questions, leaning against the doorframe. he, too, was obnoxiously tall, you thought, feeling the strain in your neck as you move your glare onto him.

“if it wasn’t obvious, i’m not going.” you deadpan, crossing your arms over your chest. “i thought that was clear after i ignored all 77 of your texts.” you smile sarcastically, rubbing sleep from your eyes.

“don’t be boring! you’re an f1 driver, you’re in a cool city, you’re rich and, let’s face it,” he sasses. “you need to get laid.” alex says, like it’s the most causal thing in the world. your eyes bulge out of your head at the utterance of the last bit. george bites back laughter.

“choosing to ignore that.” you hiss. “i’m sorry but i refuse to go out and celebrate that arrogant, whiny little bitch.”

they both know exactly who you’re talking about.

you and lando have simply never seen eye to eye. your karting days were spent pushing one another off the track or into a muddy puddle if things got a bit heated out of the car. sure, olive branches were extended, and maybe adolescent feelings were secretly harboured, but he never gave you any reason to tell him that. you’d grown out of the childish violence when you graduated into formula 1, but you hadn’t been able to shake the rage he made you feel.

it didn’t matter how many dinners you attended where others had conspired and forced you to sit next to each other. it didn’t matter how many times you turned up to play padel and were met with the same lame excuses of ‘oh, did we not mention lando would be here?’ it didn’t matter how many times you’d hugged it out on the podium while adrenaline and tensions were running high.

it didn’t matter how many times he’d watched you from across a crowded room and you’d found his eyes, watched him back. it didn’t matter how many times he’d smirked at you at the start of a race weekend, made you blush. and it certainly didn’t matter what happened last time you found yourself in a club with him.

you just don’t like him. not anymore. you sleep better at night when you lie to yourself.

~ the last time

you sink shot after shot, cocktail after cocktail; the taste of fruity liquor stains your lips and burns your throat. you feel electric, sizzling with ecstasy and the heat from the flashing lights above your head.

it’s approaching 4am and you can’t recall a time in your life where you’d felt so fucking good. the high of your first win is indescribable.

you’ve lost track of the guys, alex and george have packed it in and gone back to their hotels with their girlfriends. pierre and kika are somewhere in a corner, you’re certain. you’re pretty sure you’ve even seen lewis with his entourage and a brick wall of a bodyguard trailing behind him. and at the bar, a set of eyes watch you.

lando isn’t even listening to oscar anymore, no. he is too entranced in the way your hips move to the beat, lost in the carefree lines your body makes in the crowd. he’s itching to go to you, put his hands in places that would stay between you, him, and god, but he doesn’t think a broken nose would be good for business.

everything changes when you spin around, facing his direction. then, it begins: the same thing that happens every time you end up going out in the same group. you watch one another, pretending you’re not both achingly desperate to find out how the other tastes.

but lando is feeling bold. he tells oscar he’ll see him in the morning, and then, egged on by a moscow mule and a few too many shots, he makes his way towards you. it is instinctual, magnetic, the way he is drawn to you.

hands on your hips, lips on your neck. the song changes. you recognise the weeknd’s voice. you are disappointed in yourself but it feels too good to stop.

you know what i’m thinkin', see it in your eyes
you hate that you want me, hate it when you cry
you’re scared to be lonely, 'specially in the night
i’m scared that i’ll miss you, happens every time

the lyrics sober you up. you’re in the first taxi you can see when you finally get outside.

alone.

~

as much as that memory makes you shiver, for several different reasons, you find yourself putting on some makeup and raking through your suitcase for something to wear. george and alex are waiting downstairs for you at the bar, and when you finally make your way down there, they have a martini waiting for you. they watch in impressed horror as the alcohol disappears from the glass mere seconds after it touches your lips.

“let’s get this over with.” you sigh.

-

it could have been worse, you suppose.

the club is packed, hundreds of faces blurring into nothing. you feel better knowing that there is a one in a million chance of running into lando.

you’re tucked into a booth with alex and george, carmen and lily, a few faces you can’t quite place, and charles and pierre. you’d conspired to sit on the outside, prepared to make a quick getaway at the first sign of tension.

you’d been in a state of fight or flight since your last run in, nails bitten down every time you thought about his hands on you, how good they felt on you. it scared you more than anything had in a long time, how your desire had festered.

you go to take a swig from your glass, only to find it empty, aside from a few sad ice cubes. you watch jealously as they melt into nothing, wishing they would take you with them, shoving your glass across the smooth table top when your frustration boils over.

you’re on edge, ridiculously afraid of bumping into a curly haired man. it wasn’t him you were scared of, per-say, more yourself. god knows what you’d do if you felt those warm, calloused hands pulling your hips into his again.

“you okay?” pierre calls across the table. he and charles abandon their conversation as soon as your glass goes flying towards their side of the table. you’re broken out of your trance, caught off guard like a deer in headlights.

“tired.” you reply, shrugging it off like it was nothing. it’s clear immediately that they don’t buy it.

“she’s hiding.” alex chimes in from beside you, and your elbow goes straight into his ribs. he feigns pain for a moment, cackling at your reaction.

“from who?” charles inquires. you roll your eyes, blush spreading down your neck already. you hate everything about the conversation, and yet you need to see where it goes. you’d planned your escape, and now was the opportune time to make it, but you seem to be glued to the leather of the booth.

“lando.” george smirks into his drink as a he speaks, wiggles his eyebrows.

“oh yeah, we know all about that.” pierre laughs, his head tipping back in amusement.

“what?” you spit, eyes wide with confusion.

“don’t think me and kika didn’t see you two before the summer break. that night you won? we thought you’d finally cave.” pierre explains, his grin conveying pure evil.

several “what?!”’s sound from around the table, and now all eyes are on you.

“nothing even happened.” you mumble. “he came over to me and then i left.” you look away, twisting your hair around your finger. you are sweating.

“you looked like you were minutes away from being arrested for public indecency.” pierre smirks. you almost launch yourself across the table, intent on strangling him, and then perhaps throwing yourself in front of an oncoming uber outside.

“well, well, well. i fucking knew it.” alex is giggling beside you.

“come on guys, leave the poor girl alone.” lily winks at you, but even she has a twinkle in her eye. “there’s obviously feelings there.” and just like that she betrays you. her sympathetic smile doesn’t make you forgive her.

“i think you guys just need to get it out of your system,” charles starts, pausing to take a sip of his drink. “just fuck.” he waves his hand, like it was the most causal thing in the world.

the table erupts in laughter and you decide that you are well past the end of your tether. you shake your head, declaring that you need another drink, or ten, and strut away from the table. a chorus of ‘love you’-s and ‘get some’-s sound from behind you. you reply simply by raising your middle finger and refusing to look back.

the bar is in sight, just about in your reach when your evening goes from mildly bad to aggressively worse.

“fuck sake.” you sigh.

“and good evening to you too.” lando replies. he’s blocking your path, materialising before you out of nowhere.

“get out of my way, lan.” it sounds like you’re pleading and you cringe internally.

“don’t you wanna congratulate me?” he feigns a pout and you almost swing for him.

“no, not particularly.” you say dryly. “all i want is a drink, so if you’d just…” you gesture for him to move. of course, he doesn’t.

“haven’t seen you in a while, though. thought maybe you’d missed me.” he takes a step closer; goosebumps litter your bare skin.

“you are such an entitled prick.” you spit, moving to step around him but he catches you, gripping your wrists and pulling you in. you feel heat radiating off of him, expensive cologne overwhelming you in the best possible way.

“and you, honey, are such a fucking brat. but you don’t hear me complaining, do you?” lando whispers, cool breath hitting your face, minty, laced with champagne and cockiness. you almost fold, thighs clenching so tight that he must have noticed.

“move.” you grumble through gritted teeth. you are crumbling painfully, embarrassingly fast.

“make me.” your underwear is damp, but you are fuming.

“don’t fucking test me, lando.” something in your chest sets on fire and you’re over him and his bullshit, and the way he makes you feel.

“i know you want me.” he dips his forehead down to rest gently against yours. his grip on your wrists tightens, thumbs swirling circles into the flesh, right where your pulse is.

you lean in, mere centimetres separating your lips. his eyes darken, the assumption of victory over you tugs his lips into a smirk.

“all i want is my fucking drink. come find me when you’ve managed to navigate your gigantic, stupid head out of your arse.” you catch him off guard, wriggling out of his grip. you’re shaking when you walk away, thoughts of doing things with him that would get you both fired invading your foggy brain.

you try to disappear into the crowd, finally breathe a sigh of relief when your hands meet the cool surface of the bar. you order your drink, putting it on your tab and drum your nails against the marble top. you’re lost in your own world, watching as concoctions are mixed, as shots are downed. you finally feel at ease, until your evening takes yet another turn, one that was somehow even more unfortunate than all the others.

your attention is rudely stolen by the guy stood next to you.

“can i get that for you?” the random man speaks, in a way that he must of assumed was smooth. slimy, you think. he’s gesturing to your drink, clearly having watched you add it to your bill already.

“no, thank you. it’s already paid for.” you smile politely, turning on your heel. it seems he wasn’t quite done with you. you feel a clammy hand tug on yours, a wave of sickness washes over you.

lando’s hands are bigger, warmer, softer.

“where are you rushing off to, babe?” the sweaty man asks, his tone fake in a way that makes you uneasy.

“i need to get back to my friends.” you try to pull your hand free, but he won’t budge. “can you let go-“

“i can show you a good time. always thought you were kinda hot.” you’re panicking now, looking every which way for a familiar face, a security guard, anyone.

“take your hands off of me.” you snap, still wrestling to pull yourself free.

“one night with me would pull you out of that little slump you’re in.” he leers. you visibly gag, white hot rage blurs your vision.

“okay you piece of shi-“ you snarl, interrupted by a flash of curls and tanned skin.

“she told you to let go.” lando stands in front of you protectively, rigid and furious. you’ve never been so happy to see his annoying(ly beautiful) face.

“and what are you gonna do?”

“hands. off.” lando stands up even straighter, looking bigger than you’ve ever seen him.

“okay, mate, whatever.” the stranger rolls his eyes, shoves your hand away.

lando turns to you, opening his mouth to speak when…

“keep that stuck up bitch all to yourself.”

and then, everything goes to shit.

lando whips around, fists are flying, the stranger topples to the ground, amassed to nothing in the face of the mclaren drivers rage. lando doesn’t stop there, makes sure he is sufficiently dealt with, flat on his back on the sticky floor. you don’t know what to do, calling out for lando, begging him to stop, as satisfied as you are. lando hears your shouts, pulled out of the chaos and back to you. always back to you.

“are you okay?” he has his hands on your face searching for any remaining fear or upset. a crowd has formed and you see alex and george towering above the other club goers, jaws agape.

it’s as if he dj has it out for you, and you realise that the song has changed to something moodier, slower, one that gives you whiplash.

even though we're going through it
and it makes you feel alone
just know that i would die for you
baby, i would die for you

“we need to get out of here. security are coming.” you mutter, keening into his touch.

“i have a car outside.”

“well, let’s use it then.”

-

you can’t help but stroke over his knuckles mindlessly in the car, an unlikely comfortable silence settling between you. they look raw, cracked slightly and you have an overwhelming desire to kiss them better. your head is fuzzy, and you’re unsettled with confusion, but at the same time, you feel lighter.

“why did you do that?” you murmur, disrupting the quiet that has settled over the backseat of the town car, the question burning desperately on your tongue.

lando turns his head so that he’s looking down at you, his good hand comes up to cup your jaw softly.

“no one can talk to you like that.” he’s staring so deeply into your eyes and you almost squirm at the intensity. you feel exposed, bare.

“but why did you step in before that?” you reiterate shakily. lando hums in understanding.

“i’ve known you since we were 10 years old. i know when you’re scared.” he whispers, breath dusting your cheeks. you almost lean in, then, something about his words pull you even closer towards him. you feel warmth creeping over your chest, sinking into the pit of your belly.

“we’ve arrived.” the driver calls from the front, signalling that you need to get out of the car. it was like an elastic band had snapped, and you spring away from lando, scrambling to undo your seat belt, the moment of weakness long gone.

you sneak into the lobby, on the lookout for any angry PR teams or incognito photographers that are scoping for their next pay check. the coast seems clear, so you manage to scurry discreetly into the elevator. you hit the button for the third floor.

“can you hit the button for five?” lando asks, leaning against the opposite wall.

“you’re coming to my room.” you state, offering no other explanation, even when he raises his eyebrows.

the ding of the lift has lando pushing himself off of the mirrored wall, trailing behind you into the corridor. the lights are low as he follows you to your door, hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. he watches in anticipation as you rifle through your small bag for your keycard. the green light gives you the go ahead to open the door, and he awkwardly follows you inside, peering around the room.

you notice the slight apprehension in his features, eyes blown wide from alcohol and adrenaline. they seem to sparkle more than you’d seen in a while, a hazel-y blue twisting with secrets and unspoken thoughts.

“let me find my first aid kit.” you tell him. you guide him towards the foot of your bed, gesture for him to sit. “make yourself comfortable.”

“you don’t need to do this.” lando replies, sitting down anyway.

“and you didn’t need to get between me and that dickhead but here we are.”

your words elicit a low chuckle from him, and you’re glad you have your back to him while you dig through your suitcase. he can’t see your smile at the wholesome sound, and he doesn’t need to.

random pieces of clothing fall out of the bag as you rummage through it, your attention taken up completely by your mission to find the small box. you don’t notice the pile of garments littering the floor.

“wow, didn’t take you for that kinda girl.” lando teases. your cheeks flame red when you catch sight of the cherry red thong that has managed to get caught in the wheel of your suitcase.

“shut up, i’m helping you.” you grumble, balling up the lace and burying it at the bottom of the case.

“why is it ferrari coloured? something you wanna tell me? do you think charles is… foxy? or is it fred? oh, i bet it’s fred, isn’t it.” he’s laughing now, loud and boisterous, and if it wasn’t for the butterflies erupting in your belly at the sound, you would have throttled him.

“i’ll leave you to bleed out.” you tease back, pointing at the dried up blood across his knuckles.

“of course, i am in urgent need of medical attention!” he exclaims sarcastically, clutching his hand. you roll your eyes.

“you know where the door is.” you stand from the floor, carrying a little square antiseptic wipe with you.

“yeah, i do. feel like staying now, though. i’m just so comfy.”

and with that, he throws himself back on your bed, closing his eyes as he sinks into the mattress.

you stare at him for a second, noticing the way his eyelashes dust the tops of his cheeks, his tanned, thick neck peeks out from in between the undone buttons of his dress shirt. you exhale shakily, moving to sit beside him on the bed.

“give me your hand.” you instruct him, tearing the packet open and unfolding the wipe.

“romantic.” lando snarks. you shove his shoulder in response. he holds his hand out.

“whatever.” you sigh, avoiding eye contact as you run the wipe over his knuckles. you can see how they are already tinged purple, wincing at the idea that it is your fault.

“what is it?” lando asks, noticing.

you don’t respond. this proximity is odd, you can’t quite tell yet if you like it. what you do know is that you certainly don’t know how to handle him now that the alcohol is wearing off and you’re left tending to the wounds of a man that you could have sworn you didn’t like.

“so that’s how it’s gonna be? we’re going back to the silent treatment again?” lando scoffs.

“don’t know what to say.” you mutter, keeping your eyes trained on every line and indent of his knuckles.

“why do you hate me so much?”

“i don’t.”

“yes, you do.” he scoffs.

“i don’t think about you enough to hate you.” you lie. it’s cruel. he winces.

that shuts him up.

“i’m gonna go. thanks for this.” lando waves his hand and you feel a wave of guilt hit.

“no, fuck, i’m sorry.” you apologise, bowing your head. “stay.”

“i’ll stay if you tell me why you hate me.”

“i’ve never hated you, lan. haven’t always particularly liked you but i never, ever hated you.”

“okay.”

that’s all it takes for him to flop back onto the bed. some unexplainable instinct that you loathe has you crawling onto the bed beside him. you wrap your arms around your pillow, watching him watch you.

“i used to have such a big crush on you, you know.” lando says. you stare at him blankly.

“what?”

“yep. i think i was about 15. you were the first girl i ever really liked that way.” he smiles, recalling the memory. “it kinda sucked because i knew you wouldn’t even look at me twice but it’s funny thinking back to that time.”

~ 15

he watches the way her hair gets caught in the breeze as she takes off her helmet. two messy braids are shaken free, and his heart skips a beat or two, or seven, when she turns around with the biggest grin on her face.

she’s just won a race, another one, and he’d be so jealous if it wasn’t her.

he thinks she’s the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. george and alex go over to her, congratulating her, hugging her. he wishes he could do that. he definitely can’t.

she doesn’t see him, the only times that she does are when they argue, when they push eachother off the track and scream at one another across a gravel trap. the times when she plants her pointed finger in his chest and calls him dirty, the times he gets heated and calls her something he doesn’t mean under his breath. and she always hears him. always. he watches her eyes pool with tears every single time.

he wants her, in a way he’s never wanted anyone before. he’s never felt like this, wonders how he can make it go away. she hates him. she must.

he can never have her, so why even try?

~

“i had no idea you ever felt that way.” you’re quite shocked, really. you knew that you had this intensely charged sexual tension between you now, but you had failed to realise how far back this all went.

mutually, at least.

“i’d say i’ve done a pretty good job of hiding it.” his smile changes slightly. it was now a sad smile, one that conveys disappointment in himself, and that you hated to see. it reminds you of the one you’ve gotten used to seeing on your social media feed after he’d had a shitty race.

you sigh, bracing yourself for what you are about to say.

“you’re not the only one who hid it.” you raise an eyebrow, your face says ‘guilty!’

“no?” lando’s eyes widen at your revelation.

“i think we were 13. you gave me half a cookie to apologise for pushing me off track.” you smile coyly. “it’s kinda sad but 13 year old me died inside.” you laugh.

“so, we’ve both… liked each other.” lando assesses. you nod.

“when did you stop?” you inquire, scanning his face. you take in each detail, each individual freckle, the curve of his lips. he seems closer, all of the sudden, and that’s when you realise you’ve closed the space between you. lando is within reach now, it would have been so, so incredibly easy to shift even closer still; it was like you were in his gravitational field, reeled in by pretty, pretty eyes.

“who said i stopped?”

“oh.” you breathe.

~ 13

he snaps the crumbly biscuit between his fingers, trails towards her awkwardly. he feels bad, feels a strange pang in his chest that he doesn’t recognise.

he finds her around the back of her parents car, arms crossed, eyebrows scrunched, pouting hard. he thinks she’s cute.

“why are you here?” she whines.

“this is for you. i know it doesn’t make up for the race. i didn’t mean to take you out, i swear.”

he sounds panicked, sincere. her tummy turns funny.

he’s holding out a cookie, the children’s equivalent of an olive branch.

her face softens. she accepts it. they bite into their cookies at the same time.

it’s not the worst day in the world anymore.

~

messy kisses and soft whispers lull you to sleep.

his nose bumps yours every time your lips meet, gentle and plush.

you feel delicate in his arms, treasured. his lips press gently to your hairline. he’s different, softer than you’ve seen him since you were teenagers splitting cookies.

it’s the easiest thing in the world to curl into his side, mould together until you’re part of him, and drift off.

-

the heat wakes you up.

you stir, eyes fluttering open, searching for the source of the onslaught of warmth. it clicks quickly, and you realise that you hadn’t dreamt the events of the night before.

lando is in your bed.

lando had protected you.

lando had wanted you since you were stupid kids who didn’t know any better.

he is the heater that had woken you up, and suddenly you don’t care that you’re far too hot. you curl back into his side, head rests on his chest. it rises and falls softly, his heartbeat thrums beneath your ear. you are jealous of how pretty he looks when he’s asleep, relaxed and infatuating. you lose track of time, gazing up at him.

a sharp pain in your side makes you groan. you had fallen asleep in your dress, lando in his jeans and his shirt, and now you’re paying for it, your fingers searching for the zipper that was now digging into your side. your movements draw him out of his slumber, and when you look back at him, he’s watching you, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“you okay?” lando croaks, his voice deep and sleepy. it sends shockwaves through you.

“mhm. how did you sleep?” you ask, mindlessly running your hand over his jaw like it was the most natural thing in the world. a smile breaks out across his face, eyes fluttering shut once more.

“really fucking well.” he laughs, almost in disbelief.

“yeah, me too.” you smile at him, shy.

“what’s bothering you?”

“well, a human heater woke me up and now this fucking zipper is killing me.” you joke. it’s weird that this doesn’t feel weird.

“i am pretty hot i guess.”

“yeah, yeah.” you roll your eyes and stand from the bed.

lando sits up, resting on his elbows. his eyes follow you as you walk around the room. you take a bottle of water, drinking half of it before passing it to him. his lips wrap around the bottle and you have to turn away, the ache between your legs that you’d been fighting for months rearing it’s irritating head. you clear your throat, composing yourself.

“need to get this dress off.”

lando pulls himself off of the mattress, stalking towards you. you stop in your tracks and he meets you at the foot of the bed. his hands find your cheeks, thumbs smoothing over your skin in little circles, and then kisses you deeper than he did last night.

it’s impossible not to melt into him, hands running over his chest, his shoulders, and finally finding solace tangled in his curls. if someone told you the morning before that you’d wake up in lando’s arms, you would have cackled, urged them to seek medical attention, and probably spat in their face. how things change.

“i think you should keep it on, look so pretty.” lando breathes, staring down at you. you blush hard, leaning into him.

“but i’m uncomfortable.” you grin coyly. and then, a surge of confidence has you whispering: “i’ll let you take it off if you want.”

“let me make you comfortable first.” lando murmurs, dipping his head down until it rests in the crook of your neck. “want me to get you nice and comfortable, baby?” he kisses up your neck.

you cave, finally.

it takes him all of thirty seconds to have you spread out on his face, laying himself down on the mattress and pulling you on top of him so that you’re hovering over his lips. he mouthes at your panties for a second, getting his first taste of you, and then he drags them to the side, clearing a path. his tongue laves over your cunt, groaning as soon as he gets a proper taste.

your dress fans out over your thighs, and lando has disappeared beneath the fabric. you can tell he’s there, though, by the strong hands gripping onto your thighs, the tuft of curls peeking out, and the feeling of his nose bumping your clit as he buries his face deeper and deeper between your folds.

“lando.” you cry, throwing your head back. the straps of your dress are slipping down your arms, skimming your goosebump ridden skin. he just groans into your pussy in response, pulling you impossibly closer to his mouth, backwards and forwards until you’re grinding down on his willing tongue. you reach down blindly, grabbing one of his hands where it rests on your thigh, and your other threads through his hair, gripping tight as you revel in the pleasure.

lando pulls your clit between his teeth, grazing over the bud and you’re jolting, writhing above him. you feel like you’re going to die, heat pricking all over your skin, your tummy tight from the building orgasm. he’s so eager, sliding his entire face through your slippery folds, obscene sounds falling from his lips that ricochet through your quivering body.

tears prick your eyes when you finally let go, slumping forwards from the overwhelming sensation taking over every single nerve. he lifts you off of him, laying you back on the bed as you come down from your high.

“you okay, baby?” he coos, brushing sweat dampened hair from your eyes.

his lips are stained, dark pink and shiny, a mixture of enthusiasm and your slick coating them. lando scans your watery eyes, feral at how fucked out you look all because of him, and tantalisingly licks his lips.

“need you.” you moan, reaching out for him. his shirt is wrinkled where he’d slept in it and your shaky hands find the few buttons that are actually done up. you push the material off of his shoulders, pupils blown wide at the sight of his toned chest, at the feel of smooth, golden skin. you pull him in by the shoulders, swallowing him whole as you kiss him with everything you’ve got left.

lando’s hands find your thighs once more, running his hands over them to push your dress up your hips.

“wanted this for so long.” he whispers into the kiss, pulling away so that he can take the dress off of you. he looks ravenous the more he pushes the fabric up your body.

you feel vulnerable under his intense gaze, watchful eyes taking in every movement you make. you try to pull him back in for another kiss but he resists.

“let me look at you, please?” lando asks. “there you go, baby, let’s get this off, hmm?” he sits you up so that he can get it over your head, and you lay back, bare aside from your panties that he’d left in disarray.

he sucks in a breath, raking his eyes over the curve of your lips, your collarbone, the slope of your breasts. his gaze lingers there for just a second, before continuing further over your belly, the length of your legs. you want to hide away, pull him in so that he can’t look at you like this, or just dive under the duvet and stay there until you need to catch your flight.

“god, you’re so, so fucking beautiful.” he gasps, awestruck. he sounds speechless, and you feel yourself going red again.

“come here.” you whine. “needed you for so long.”

your admission seems to kick him into action, because seconds later, he’s on top of you, fingers grazing the band of your underwear while you fiddle with the button on his jeans.

“gonna be good for me, aren’t you?” lando stares you down, tone sending a shiver down your spine. you nod, batting your eyelashes. “words, my love.”

“yes, lando.” you affirm, arching into him. that’s all he needs to know, kicking his jeans away, boxers too.

“good girl. took care of me so well last night, now ‘m gonna take such good care of you.”

your eyes skim his body, honing in on how hard he is. your hand finds his cock, tentative at first, stroking over it softly. it’s heavy in your hands, red and dripping already. he wants this just as bad as you do. you continue to jerk him off, watching the way his eyes squeeze shut and his lips part, soft pants falling out. a low hum sounds from the back of his throat, and you wet your lips, threading your free hand through his hair.

lando opens his eyes at the sensation, gently batting your hand away. he dips down even closer, resting on one of his forearms. he lines himself up and your legs wrap around him instinctively. slowly, he pushes inside of you, his breath catching in his throat.

“fucking hell.” he groans, deep and guttural, something carnal sending shockwaves through his body. “been dreaming about all the ways i’d get to fuck you.”

your eyes roll back and you go languid in his arms, feeling every inch of him slide against your slick walls.

“want you.” you rasp, clinging to him, your fingernails leaving patterns between his taut shoulder blades as you beg for it.

“you have me, baby.” and then he kisses you, messy and slow, stealing the air from your lungs. you’re dizzy when he pulls away, sitting back slightly to change the angle. you cry out, feeling him even deeper and everything is more sensitive, warm. you roll your hips, meeting his thrusts deliciously, and he chokes out a moan as you clamp around him. “yeah, that’s it. fuck yourself like that for me.” he encourages.

this is all too much, too good. you have whiplash, physically and emotionally, eyes pooling with tears as the man you’d wanted so badly that you hated him for it rocks into you. lando hits the right spot every time he pistons his hips harder, and his nimble fingers slide up your abdomen, applying light pressure to your navel that makes you writhe.

“fucking perfect for me. gorgeous.” lando slurs, entranced by the sight of where you’re joined. he can see just how wet you are and it drives him insane, barrelling into you like a man possessed, drunk on every single way that your body responds to him.

his wandering hand finds your breast, kneading it before he traces your nipple. he watches the way it hardens at his manipulation, wetting his lips. he collapses back on top of you, sucking the bud into his mouth. you’re panting, whining beneath him as his tongue swirls over your chest, switching to the other side. you jolt, a silent scream scratching your throat when he slips his hand between your thighs, working your clit with the pad of his thumb. he’s rutting against you, grinding deeper, faster, uncontrollably.

“come on, baby. you’re so close, so tight for me.” he mutters into your skin. you nod frantically, your words lost on you. he kisses over your collarbone, the base of your throat, until he finds your lips.

“so close.” you sigh.

he stops.

“tell me you’re all mine.” lando growls, his entire demeanour changing. the tone of his voice almost finishes you off but you’re suddenly enraged. you’re too close for him to stop.

“c’mon lando.” you hiss, trying to move your hips but he has you firmly in place.

“need to hear you say it.” his hand slithers over your chest, finding a new home at the base of your throat. it makes you throb, the way his thick fingers wrap around you. slowly, his grip tightens, and you see an opportunity.

you buck your hips hard, whimpering at the sensation, but your plan works and now you hover over him. he’s still buried inside you, and you can feel him pulsing as you steal control.

“for once in your life, honey, shut the fuck up.” you smirk, mischievous in victory.

slowly, you build up your rhythm. he feels bigger like this, deeper, and you almost lose yourself in the small circles you make with your hips.

“knew you’d be like this. you liked giving yourself to me but i just knew you’d need to take back control.” lando teases. his hand is back around your neck, squeezing slowly, and you grind frantically, dizzy for him. “i was right last night, wasn’t i, baby? pretending to be my good girl when really,” he pulls you down so that you’re chest to chest. “you’re just a fucking brat.”

lando holds you close as he fucks up into you, feeling the way you go limp on top of him as the pleasure washes over you like a million electric shocks. you’re crying, tears pooling on his chest, because there is nothing you can do, nothing you want to do, but take it. he’s got you right where he wants you, and you’re loving every fucking second of it.

“yeah, baby, take it how you want it.” lando commands through gritted teeth, and you move your hips in a feeble attempt to match his speed. everything is slippery, everything feels wet and flushed.

the power play, the position, the frenzy he seems to be in as he fucks you, it all has you gushing, spilling all over him. you choke out a sob, shuddering as the elastic band in your belly snaps. lando stops his thrusts, replacing them with small rolls of his hips to help you through your orgasm.

a sharp breath and a string of curses from him give you the strength to muster the last little bits of energy you have left to look up at him. you pull your head up off of his chest just in time to watch him shatter into a million little pieces.

his neck flexes as his head rolls back, sinking into the pillow, his eyes tight. swollen lips part and your name falls from between them like a prayer. you can feel him filling you up, his hands tightening their hold on your hips like he’s scared to let go, like the world will stop if he does.

the world stops anyway, because then you’re looking at each other. really looking at each other.

it only takes a second for you to be drawn in and his hands leave your hips to cup your face. his calloused hands feel your skin, stroking over rosy patches on your cheeks. it’s deathly silent all around you, apart from the breathless pants you share.

swollen lips crash hard into yours and you melt. he’s still buried so deeply inside of you, your hips digging into his, impossibly close. you’re blindly reaching for any part of him you can get your hands on, and his big hands slide down your body until they meet the small of your back. ever so carefully, he flips you onto your back, easing your spent body into the mattress.

lando collapses on top of you, mouthes at your neck for a moment, delicate kisses making your eyes flutter shut. the eye contact almost sends you into cardiac arrest as he pulls out, oh so slowly. tease.

he holds you close in the shower, fingers massaging every part of you. sex and sweat are washed away, almost lovingly. you let the water run for far too long, content in clinging to him. it’s quiet, reflective time for both of you, exactly what it needs to be. you’re both hung up on questions that need to be asked, neither one of you brave enough to take the first steps. you know one thing, and one thing only: something has changed, in a forever kind of way.

your hair is stringy, half dry, and you’re stood in your underwear. your legs are still shaky.

“your flight soon?” lando asks. he’s stood in his boxers on the other side of the room, scrunching the water out of his curls.

“yeah.” your throat feels raw.

“and you’re going back to monaco?” he’s stopped what he’s doing now, staring at you. you can see the cogs turning behind his eyes.

you nod.

“fancy a sleepover?” he grins, boyish and careless. your heart falls to your feet.

you’re giggling when he sweeps you into his arms and kisses you into the freshly made bed. the sheets are on the floor by the time you finally remember you have a flight to catch.

you’re his now, you realise. he’s too beautiful for his own damn good.

-

“baby?” you hear lando call from his bedroom. you make out the faint sound of his footsteps making their way in your direction. he appears before you can even answer him, and he’s smiling softly at the sight of you bundled up in a blanket, sprawled across his couch.

“what is it?” you ask. the next thing you know he’s on top of you, peppering kisses over every single inch of skin he can get to on your face. “hey, get off, muppet.” you whine playfully, ruffling his hair.

“do you know how much i love having you here?” he murmurs. it’s endearing as fuck and you fight a foolish, dopey grin.

“you’ve mentioned once or twice…” you’ve been here since your flight touched down a week ago. you haven’t even been home to get clothes, not that you needed them in his company.

“we might have a teeny, tiny issue.” he squints, pulling a face.

“and what’s that?” you ask, your voice measuring equal parts cautious and amused.

“so, alex called…”

“oh, shit.”

“we have to go to dinner tonight.”

“we have to?”

“he’s suspicious as fuck. you do realise they’ve been plotting for us to happen for years,” you roll your eyes as if you say duh. “and also, you’ve been in monaco for a week and haven’t seen him once. oh, and also, the last time we saw them, we were running away from a fucking crime scene.” lando smiles sarcastically, and you sigh, defeated.

before you can reply, your phone is ringing somewhere beside you. you root around in your blanket searching for it and when you find it:

“son of a bitch.” you exclaim, showing lando the caller ID. alex is one persistent motherfucker.

“hey girl.” alex singsongs down the phone before you can even say hello.

“hello to you too.” you can hear the fear in your own voice.

“dinner. tonight. although, i’m sure lando already told you.” alex teases.

“why would lando have told me? what?” you choke. lando slaps his hand over his face. your voice has gone up several octaves. not suspicious at all.

“so, you’re at home? you haven’t been at his place since last week?” the playful interrogation begins.

“why would i be with lando?” you try and feign disgust at the implication. it does not work.

“because you hate fucked after he beat up that perv? i have to say, i didn’t think he had it in him but he’s been in love with you since he was like, ten, so, you know-”

“bye alex.”’

“you’re not denying it-“

“bye alex!”

you’re flaming red when you throw the phone to the other end of the sofa. lando, as on brand as ever, is cackling into a pillow.

“he is such a fucking shit stirrer.” you bury your face in your hands, slumping back into the fuzzy cushions.

“well, he’s right about one thing.” lando trails off. suddenly he’s looking anywhere but you and you see him gulp, hard, swallowing his words, like he’s too afraid to bare his soul.

“huh?” you ask gently, sitting up to reach out for him. “what’s wrong?”

“we need to get ready for dinner. that’s what he’s right about.” lando says, standing from the sofa and walking towards his room. you’re suspicious, watching him go with furrowed eyebrows.

-

“lando, behave! you’re the one making me go to this dinner.” you squeal, batting his restless hands away.

you’ve made it as far as the elevator before he pounces on you, caging you in against the metal walls.

“but you look so good, can’t help myself.” he mutters between kisses on your neck, pressing himself even further into you.

the hand that finds it’s way between your legs, exploring beyond the hem of your skirt, is the one that makes you press the button for his floor. why have plans when you can have sex?

he gets through the door to his apartment at lighting speed and carries you all the way to his bed.

when you’re sweating and breathless a good hour later, half of the bedding on the floor with your clothes, you realise you never cancelled your plans.

lando is drawing shapes into the bare skin of your arm, kissing over your shoulder as he does so. his eyes are dropping from all of the over-exertion and you want to count each and every freckle on his face while he falls asleep. he’s cute like this, soft and yours.

and idea comes to your mind, and as if he can see the lightbulb, lando half raises an eyebrow at you. you giggle, somewhat evilly perhaps, and scramble for your phone on the beside table.

“what’re you doing?” lando groans, pouting as his outstretched arms try to find you.

“getting even.” you state.

with the phone in your clutches, you roll back over towards him, holding the camera above you both. he hears the shutter sound as you snap the picture, and peers closer to see the screen. when he sees the groupchat open, he quickly understands what you’re plotting.

“may i?” you ask for his consent.

“are you kidding? go for it. that’ll shut them up.” he laughs sleepily, muttering something about how this is the most lando thing you’ve ever done

FROM: you

TO: the groupchat

1 image attached

couldn’t make dinner. something came up xx

“alex always thinks he’s right, this’ll teach him for being such a little shit.” you flop back into bed even more satisfied than you were before.

you hear lando inhale shakily beside you.

“he is right sometimes you know.” he repeats his earlier words.

you hold your breath. his eyes say so many things that are too delicate to be spoken yet.

“like… like what he said on the phone?” your voice quivers with anticipation, fear. your heart is thunderous, hammering away like it wants to escape the clutches of its cage.

“yeah. i-“ he stops himself. you don’t need him to finish, you know which two words follow. they can follow in good time, you both know it.

“me too, lando.” you coo.

he’s beaming, eyes half shut. you watch as he falls asleep, the both of you ignoring the way your phones are vibrating so aggressively that they might buzz their way off of the night stand. you lose count of his freckles, but it doesn’t matter.

you’ll have plenty of time to figure it out.

-

let me know what you think :D

-

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin

(i ran out of tags omg? whoops) lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3

[cavernned]

ENHYPEN WITH ENTERTAINER TROPES

maknae line version!

hyung line version

notes: so….. i know it’s been a while since i uploaded the first part! AND IM SORRY FOR THAT. i just got really busy and then i was honestly considering scrapping it altogether bc i thought it was kind of a trash idea (oops!) but after recieving all the love on my rating my exes smau i thought that i might as well do the maknae line! to those that were waiting on it i apologize and hope that this suffices 💜🤍 (also please lmk if you want to be added to the perm taglist for my enha works!)

word count < 2890

trigger warnings: none!

model!sunoo x stylist!reader

Sunoo is a famous model!

Not only is he famous for his great visuals but also his cute personality 

every critic online would be saying that his face did not match his onstage persona at all! 

those that he worked with never had anything negative to say about him

in behind the scenes videos he’s cheerful and can be found interacting with staff

but once he gets on the runway….

it’s like a switch is flipped!

no more smiles or giggles, just serving face

and this is exactly what makes him so popular

another thing that always caught peoples eye were his day to day looks

from the way he styled his hair, the makeup that laced his face, all the way down to the clothes on his back seemed ti be perfectly curated to make him look good

AND BOY IH BOY DID IT WORK

but of course nobody could look that good everyday without a little help

and people began to speculate…

who is the genius behind Sunoo’s looks??

In a recent interview he’s asked this question 

his fans obviously expect him to happily answer like he usually does but-

HE COMPLETELY GATEKEEPS?????

rather than answering directly he laughs it off and makes a joke about how it’s all him!

and boy oh boy this answer disappointed many

(since this behind-the-scenes stylist was in such high demand amongst not only models but celebrities too!) 

people online searched and searched for any sort of hint or trace of this mystery fashion consultant 

but there was genuinely nothing!

UNTIL ONE FATEFUL DAYYYYYYY

some deep diver finds you credited in a post made long before Sunoo was famous 

before he was even a runway model at that

and the post didn’t even have him in it, there were only pictures of you at your graduation 

in the description was your name,  “l would like to congratulate Y/N L/N not only as an aspiring stylist and fashion designer, but as my one and only.” 

welp, the cats out of the bag 😅

YOU’D NEVER WOKEN UP TO SO MANY NOTIFICATIONS BEFORE…

You definitely didn’t post anything new or had any recent requests for pieces. Hell your commissions weren’t even open anymore? To top it all off you really weren’t on your phone that much to begin with. So imagine the surprise that you felt when the buzzing of your phone was coming from insta notifications rather than the sound of your alarm.

Not feeling quite ready to deal with the day yet, you quickly pick up the device to silence the flashing screen. Before you can even put the phone back down another notification pops up. This one coming from a message sent to your business email specifically. 

The first word being proposal was all you needed to. You were caught red handed. Instinctively, you turn over to your left. Beside you was Sunoo peacefully sleeping, completely oblivious to the chaos he most likely caused. As gently as you can you wake the boy up. 

“What’s up? it’s Saturday why are you up so early.” he loudly yawns.

Instead of using your words you quickly shove the phone into his face. Not before giving you a confused look, he takes the device from your hands and looks at the screen. It only takes him a few seconds to recognize what occurred while the two of you slept. “oh shit.”

————————————-

Later in the day during he actually had a shoot. 

Usually during his breaks he would film videos for his fans. They would consist of sneak peaks, informing them about his day, or just him eating snacks 

Since his girlfriend was outed on the internet though, there was no more beating around the bush (as much as he still wanted you to be his little secret)

That day you had also come into work with him, to tag along. So what better way to show you off then to include you in his daily vlog! 

Carefully he set up his camera. “Hey guys it’s been a while!” he happily said. 

After chatting about what he’d been up to and giving little hints as to what he’d was shooting for, he finally brought up the elephant in the room.

“I know you guys have been very curious about me.” he states, “There’s been a lot of stuff circling around online, but yes I do have a partner.”

He then grabs the camera and begins making his way over to another area. One in which you’re sitting and looking through emails on your phone. Placing it right in your face to your shock.

“This is her!” and then he abruptly ends the videos choosing to limit access to you once again. He was being serious about gatekeeping you from the world, his girlfriend was too good for people to gawk at. 

“What was that about!” you ask as he begins to sit next you. He rests his head on your shoulder feeling tired from everything going on and from changing outfits about twenty times. “oh nothing..” he replied.

It was in fact not nothing. 

When the video was uploaded later in the day, he couldn’t catch a break. Reading comments about how beautiful his girlfriend was and questions as to why he waited so long to reveal such a talented and pretty lady. 

To make things worse you laughed at his sulking! When he came to confide in you about his wishes to keep you all to himself, you giggled and in your exact words said “it’s been a long time coming.”

He supposes you were right. There was just no way your talent and beauty would be hidden forever. It was obvious that you were always meant for more than just being his stylist and he never planned on stopping you when the time came for you to branch out. Even though he didn’t expect said time to be so soon, he was happy for you and the opportunities he knew were bound to come.

That didn’t stop him from pouting about it though!

influencer!jungwon x bystander!reader

I think it’d be so funny if Jungwon was like a popular content creator 

an influencer if you will

in terms of content i feel like he’d do everything 

reactions, commentary, unboxings, mukbangs, playing games

hell maybe he’d even venture into doing asmr for a little while

POINT IS that he didn’t restrict himself into one area of content

now of course the two of meet in mid video 

in the specific one, he’s actually streaming

during the live he had ordered food to eat, initially forgetting about the meal until the door bell rings signaling its arrival

he quickly excuses himself to pick up his dishes 

and low and behold

ITS YOU

the one that was paid to deliver his meal

to put it simply the interaction was quite hilarious 

since Jungwon truly believed that he fell in love at first sight he ended up stumbling over his words so badly, nearly tripping over his own feet

and to top it all off, he NEARLY dropped his entire meal onto the floor 

once the door closed he let out the loudest scream known to man

what made it worse was the fact that his chat saw the entire interaction since his doorframe was still in view of the camera. 

safe to say that his chat did NOT spare him from the clowning they did on twitter 

the next time he saw you was also, during stream (SHOCKER)

this time around he was vlogging 

on the hunt for blind boxes he’d had his eyes on for a while

as he walked throughout the busy Popmart, his eyes landed on a familiar face 

(a pretty one at that)

there you were in all of your glory

your stare zoned in on the various Peach Riot blind boxes

he signals to his chat that the pretty girl that delivered his food was here 

quickly he stuffs the tripod into his bag so his fans wouldn’t be able to see your face

and he makes his way over to you

and it wouldn’t be Jungwon if he didn’t fumbles and embarrass himself for a second time

by some MIRACLE he actually gains your number

bro left the store clicking his heels together (not before paying for your items 🙂‍↕️)

now his fans don’t officially meet you until a few weeks later in another stream he started

THE STREAM STARTED OFF JUST LIKE IT USUALLY DID…

He would start off by talking about what he’d been up to. Then move on to reading chat for a while, answering questions and clowning his viewers the same way they did to him.

Then Jungwon brought up the main activity for the stream, playing video games! Said video games just being ones on Roblox. 

As he played it mostly consisted of him rage bating, cursing out little kids, and abusing his power because of his youtuber privileges he was given in certain games. 

In the middle of his reign of terror, somebody walked into the room. That somebody being you! Not knowing he was streaming you came to check on him since he was constantly screaming (more than usual at least!) 

Seeing that you walked into his room he stopped everything that he was doing to run up to you. Now that his headphones and mic were off, his chat couldn’t hear anything but the games music and sound effects.

But they were going crazy!

did somebody just walking into his room

jungwon has friends ? wow what a shocker

who tf is that

^my bets are on the doordash person

he’s literally dying in game

did he just kiss her??????

“What are you doing here?” he questioned, “Sorry if I was too loud, were you sleeping?”

Finding amusement in his worry for your wellbeing you gently brushed his bangs away from his face, “No you weren’t too loud, I wasn’t sleeping, and I came to check on you.”

This is when he melted. He couldn’t believe that he was lucky enough to have you. Which resulted in his very bad case of cuteness aggression. Instead of giving a response like a normal person, he began placing kisses all of your face with seemingly world record speed. 

Once he’s done smothering your face with his own, instead of ushering you out of the room he drags you over to his set up, pulling out a chair for you to sit in. He quickly disconnects his headphones from his stream so they’d be able to hear your voice.

“So chat, I have something to tell you…,” he ominously says, “I’m no longer bitchless”

Cue to his fans absolutely flaming him nonetheless.

propaganda im not falling for

pretty lady blink twice if you need help

are you sure because she was just in bed with me last week 😹

theres no WAY jungwon pulled before me

lets be honest she probably got paid to be here

You cackled loudly while reading the messages that were quickly flying through the screen as Jungwon begged his fans to have some faith in him for once. 

Once your laughing dies down and hes done complaining, your boyfriend encourages you to speak.

After giving a small rundown of who you are Jungwon decides to tell the story of how the two of you became a couple. Dating all the way before the doordash incident, the both of you had a mutual friend and unknowingly went to the same college (before Jungwon dropped out which his chat also made fun of him for) 

After the whole Doordash and blind box fiasco where he managed to score your number, the two of you began chatting back and forth online. Which is when he found out about your love for playing video games! The two of you would spend most nights together on FaceTime, playing Stardew Valley and Minecraft with one another.

In a joking manner, he expressed his worries to you that maybe he was falling head over heels for a stalker. To which you were offended since you really had no clue that he was famous at all until he told. Im fact he had to show proof that he was popular online because to you he was only Jungwon, your boyfriend. Which perfectly worked out for the two of you!

Once the whole rundown thing was over, the two of you played video games late into the night basically forgetting fans were even watching the two of you. 

I hate the fact that he pulled her

can she date me instead

if they started streaming i would definitely subscribe

^she’s literally funnier than him

jungwon retire and give your channel to (name) thank you very much 💕

dancer!ni-ki x dancer!reader

dance influencers yayyyyy!!!

like jblaze and kirsten kind of dancers

basically well known and superrrr talented but also kind of behind the scenes

so how do you guys meet?

well this one is obvious

you’re obviously background dancers in the same mv

even then you guys don’t necessarily have to become close

but NO, in this choreography there are plenty of duo sections

and you and ni-ki were specifically partnered together

(it’s what the people want to see!!) 

since you guys are both try-hards, oftentimes you spend extra hours in the studio getting the moves down

naturally, the two of you go closerrrr 

often hosting lives and posting challenges with one another

AND THE DANCE COMMUNITY IS RAVINGGGGGG ABOUT YOU GUYS

it’s like two meteorites collided !

seeing two people be so effortlessly cool genuinely blew peoples minds

which checks out! 

once the MV the two of you were working in comes out people expect the era pf your duo to end

but no….

the lives keep coming, instagram posts, and multiple dance routines created by the two of you

at this point people are questioning if you guys are just a pair now or madly in love with each other

AND NOBODY KNOWS

up until one day

when a little stream titled “Dance Studio Tour :)” begins to go live

THE CAMERA MAN DILIGENTLY FOLLOWS

NI-KI AROUND…

He’d already covered a good amount of areas. The entrance, locker rooms, and lounge area had all been explored around with a camera. Streaming a tour of the studio he currently worked at.

Nearing the end of the livestream he finally reached the main areas, the mirror rooms.

There were three in total. Each would host a variety of different classes. Whether that be hip-hop, ballet, heels, ballroom, contemporary, or plenty of others. The first two were relatively normal. One being occupied with a class that he happily greeted and the second being wiped down by a janitor. 

Finally making his way to the third room which was obviously occupied. Loud music echoed across the mirrored walls and the lights created the perfect setting. At first glance (or direction of camera in this scenario) it looked empty, until the lenses landed on you.

There in the middle of the room you were on a tablet, closely monitoring yourself.  With headphones covering your ears, blissfully unaware of the pair that walked in.

Rather than interrupting you, he allows the viewers to focus on you for a while. Your concentrated face filling up the screen as the camera zoomed in. Watchers could slightly hear some funny narrations on behalf of Ni-ki in the background, some teasing, some in awe. 

Once you’re done checking for mistakes and errors you slowly get up to get started again. As you look at yourself in the mirrors it is exactly when you finally recognize the two figures watching behind you.

“Hey guys, what are you up to?” you questioned, being oblivious to the fact that he was filming that day.

“Nothing much, you should introduce yourself.” he urges as he and the camera man make their way over to you. 

As you’re giving a little rundown about yourself and what you’re currently working on, Ni-ki stares at you, listening intently to your words.  

Fans are definitely questioning the longing gaze he’s giving you at this point but not really going batshit insane about it.

It’s not until he’s done interviewing (teasing) you when they go berserk . As he begins to leave, he kisses you right on the lips smack-dab in the middle of the camera. The giggles of the camera man could be quietly heard in the background.

HELLO???

RUE. WHEN WAS THIS??

okay but who’s actually surprised 

^ME????

i could actually cry tears of joy

literally the best day of my life

To their surprise, you aren’t utterly shocked by his actions of kissing you in front of the camera because the both of you believed that you were being quite obvious the entire time. Considering the fact that you guys became a “dynamic duo” specifically after working together, you thought that it was all laid out for your fans.

Who knew that the lack of PDA and cutesy nicknames made people this oblivious.

Later on after the live is over, your fans expect some sort of explanation or announcement but… theres absolutely nothing! No bold instagram post or confirming tweet in sight.

I was not lying when I said you guys were pretty behind the scenes in terms of content and your personal lives! 

Which was exactly how it would stay. 

Of course, that didn’t mean you just left people hanging.

In instances such as group photos the two of you were often closely knit, when you went outside together you wouldn’t wear any masks or restricting hats and would wave at fans in passerby. 

Even in other artists behind the scenes content if the two of you were involved, a lot of the time fans could see the two of you conversing in the background. 

And every blue moon in a random photo-dump there would be one, MAYBE even two photos of you guys included.

You guys were private yes, but not secret!

masterlist ★彡

taglist: @ashirp @ninistranaut

[whimsiwitchy]

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 (part three)

Pedro Pascal x singer!reader

series masterlist & series playlist

summary: you're a hot singer that has hot older men falling at her feet. pedro becomes one of them. (literally my cyg hughxreader fic but for pedro)

warnings: age gap (23/49), use of y/n, swearing, sexual themes, afab reader, she/her pronouns, verbal fighting, pedro is a smoker, cheating, Hugh Jackman is your ex (oops), he also pops up a few times and is mentioned, grammar is fake to me srry <3

hugh is in this chapter

warnings may change as the story progresses. all descriptions of real people in this story are fake! I don't know these people and this all for funsies. let me know if I missed anything!

author's note: okay y'all this is kinda buns ngl LMAOO ummm. I rewrote the entire part with Hugh and on like 20 different times and it still didn't turn out how I wanted buttt I was tired of pushing back the release date so here you go. there's a lot of dialogue and I struggle with details between dialogue so sorry in advance. anyways..I hope y'all enjoy this but I understand if you don't AHAHA <333

oh also the end isn't really proofread...oops

part three: cigarettes and coffee

The last few days in London were a drag. Your time was spent in meetings, interviews, and Stacy dragging you to every tourist attraction in town. It was all rather mundane- every meeting full of presentations that could have been an email and every interviewer asked the same questions you’ve already answered a million times. Even being a tourist wasn’t fun anymore, too many people crowing the popular areas. You were being grumpy but you were tired and unbelievably home sick. Being a natural homebody, it was hard to travel for long periods of time for work. You were byong grateful for the life you’re living but it didn’t align with your hermit personality. Usually after a big trip, such as this one, you got to go home and rot in bed for a few weeks before venturing out again, but your career had other plans this time around. Instead of going back to Los Angeles, you’d be heading straight to New York. 

The call with the offer came the night before your flight back home. After muting the phone to jump and scream with Stacy, you accepted the invitation to perform on Saturday Night Live the fiftieth anniversary special. 

Everything was very last minute considering you were filling in for someone who dropped out earlier in the day. Sleep wasn’t a priority as Stacy canceled the flight to L.A and searched for the next flight to New York. You, on the other hand, were thrown into a zoom meeting with your management team as everyone tried to figure out how to throw everything together by tomorrow morning. Your lawyer breezed through the contract, confirming that it was okay to sign and once it was, you were being hounded with a million and one questions. The main issue was figuring out what song you were going to sing. 

“I’m just not sure I can handle it vocally right now. With my next performance being a few weeks away, I haven't really taken care of my voice since being on live lounge.” You explained. Your team was set on having you sing ‘Late Nights and Heartbreak’ after how well it did after your performance of it was uploaded just yesterday. 

“Y/n, we understand what you’re saying but this is your first SNL performance and it’s not just a normal SNL appearance. This will be the most viewed SNL episode ever. You need to ‘wow’ the audience with something new since you’re releasing new music soon. We need to hook them, they need to want to hear more, especially since there was such a big shift in your sound since your debut album. If you happen to have any vocal issues, we’ll blame it on emotion.” Carol says. She’s usually who you speak to when talking to your team but you were never really fond of her. She cared a lot more about her job than she did you. You couldn’t blame her for that but it was obvious in moments like this. “Everyone already knows about your breakup so we can always send you on a talk show, radio show, hell even a podcast if we have to. You can give all the details about your time with Hugh and why the song is hard to sing for you…blah blah blah… everyone forgets you did bad. Problem solved, you’re singing the song. Now we need to figure out how we’re getting the band to New York on such short notic-...” 

You blanked out for the rest of the meeting, everything being discussed wasn’t anything that involved you. The camera was turned off, mic muted as you fought against drifting to sleep. You were on the brink of losing the battle when your name being said caught your attention. 

“Oh and before I forget. Y/n they want you to be in a sketch as well.” You immediately unmute yourself to protest. 

“Absolutely not. I’m a singer, not an actress.” Carol rolls her eyes, not trying to hide her annoyance anymore. Everyone was tired and over it. 

“You don’t really have a say. You’re doing it.”

What a bitch. 

—

After almost eight hours on a plane, you were a lot more cheerful to be in New York than you had been last night. The numbing in your butt from sitting so long was finally starting to go away as you stepped out of the car and headed inside of the studio. The ride over was a quiet one. Stacy, your usual companion for work things, was at the hotel. You begged her to stay back and get some rest, assuring her that you’d be okay without her today. You were sure she wouldn’t have to do much ‘assisting’ today given the schedule. 

“Hi. Y/n Y/l/n for SNL50 rehearsal.” You recite politely to the receptionist. She smiles and hands you a guest pass with your name in all caps. She gives a short description of how to navigate the confusing hallways before you make your way towards the room number you were given. Once you open the door, you beeline towards an empty corner in the back, avoiding all of the people that were already in the room, talking quietly to each other. 

“Y/n! Oh my god! I’m so happy you’re here!” Sabrina comes running over towards you, engulfing you into a big hug. You wrap your arms around her just as tight. 

“Oh my god! Sab, hi! How have you been? It’s been like for fucking ever.” You say as you both release each other. 

“I’ve been so good. Just touring, being a popstar and everything. How have you been? I heard the new song, dude it’s so fucking good. You killed that shit.” She’s beaming up at you with a big smile on her face. Her contagious energy sunk into you, feeling immediately more awake. It was also nice knowing you actually knew somebody here and wouldn’t be in a room of strangers. 

“Thank you so much! I was honestly kinda scared to put that song out but I'm glad everyone is liking it so far.”  You smile back at her. “But I’ve been really good. I’m dead tired though. I like just got back from London this mor-” Your eyes wander over to the door as someone else walks in. “-There’s no fucking way.” The smile Sabrina was sporting drops in confusion. “Why is he here?” She looks to who you’re talking about. “Not that it’s a bad thing but like…why is he here?” Your once chipper voice, now lower and sharp. 

“Who? Pedro?” She points with her thumb and you nod. “He’s in the sketch with us. Did you not know? Is it a problem that he’s here?” She asks with a concerned filled voice. 

“No. Oh my god no. I just…uh…I just didn’t know he was gonna be here. Everything happened so fast and it slipped my mind to even look at the lineup…” You’re trying to be chill but you’ve become super aware of your old sweatpants and just how different your attire is from when he saw you in the restaurant. You keep glancing over at him, hoping he doesn’t see you right away. He’s talking to a group of the male cast members, his laugh echoing off of the walls of the empty room. 

“Dude, is there something I’m missing or…?” She drags on the ‘or’ while glancing between you and Pedro. You sigh and fill her in on everything that’s happened recently. Her bright smile returns to her face as she listens. You tell her about running into him twice in London, along with the whole dress incident. 

“Stacy thinks he likes me but I don't know. I feel like he’s just being nice. I mean, I barely know the guy, ya know?” You finish and she squeals loudly. It catches the attention of the group of guys and you make eye contact with Pedro. You look up for a moment and try to look away but his eyes catch yours. You know you look like a deer caught in headlights but he politely smiles and waves anyways. You do the same. 

“Bitch, he so likes you.” Sabrina says as she observes the small interaction. “You like him back, huh?” You stay quiet for a moment. 

“I’d like to get to know him better but uh…yea he’s pretty hot.” Your voice is quiet in an attempt to keep the conversation private. A nervous tone takes over as you admit your thoughts out loud. 

“Hell yea he is! This is perfect. I will be playing cupid today. You can thank me later.” She gives your arm a quick squeeze. “Ohhhh Pedroooo!” She turns and yells towards the group of boys. 

“Sab, what the fuck are you doing?” You ask in a hushed voice. She turns her head back to you for a moment and widens her eyes, a warning to act natural. He turns his head in your direction and excuses himself from the guys. You were too fucking tired for this. 

“Good morning ladies.” He says as he walks up to the two of you. 

“Hi. I’m Sabrina. It’s nice to meet you, big fan of your work.” She says and offers a hand out towards Pedro. He takes it and introduces himself. “I would introduce my friend here but she let me know the two of you are already acquainted.” He smiles down at you. 

“Indeed we are. Long time no see stranger.” He chuckles a bit at his own joke. “How long has it been? Like what…four days?” He thinks before asking. 

“Yea something like that…Hi Pedro.” You say shyly. You felt silly for feeling awkward around him but it was hard not to be when you’ve had two people tell you that they think he likes you. 

“Oh…You need me over there?” Sabrina suddenly yells towards the other side of the room. “Oh okay.” She turns to look at you and Pedro. “Sorry guys, duty calls…” She walks away and as she does, she turns to give you two thumbs up and a wink behind Pedro’s back. You watched her walk away and tried your best not to roll your eyes at how obvious she was being. 

“So…How was the rest of your time in London?” Pedro asks, ending the brief silence. 

“It was good. It was my first time in the city so I spent all my off time exploring with Stacy. We actually just got back this morning.” You explain and he nods with a smile. 

“You’re all anyone can talk about right now, picking up this work week super last minute. Pretty badass if I do say so myself. The hero of SNL50.” He’s smiling while lazily throwing his arms up in a ‘hurray’ celebration. 

“I wouldn’t call myself a hero. This is definitely more beneficial for me than it is for SNL.” You shrug slightly and there’s a slight pause. More people enter the room, louder conversations pop up in the small groups that have slowly formed. “Um..How was London for you?” You ask, genuinely curious about what he was up to. 

“It was really good. Filming mostly for Fantastic Four and filling in any gaps with interviews. You know how it is.” He shrugs, smiling still sitting softly on his lips. 

“Ugh. I don’t ever want to hear the word ‘interview’ again.” You groan and let your head hang back slightly. “I think I did more interviews in London than I’ve done in my entire music career.” 

“Tell me about it!” Pedro agrees, his eyes widening. “I swear the moment you step into another country, you’re doing interviews left and right. Everyone wants to get their hands on you before you go back to America.” 

“Ya’ know…suddenly doing a world tour for my next album doesn’t sound that exciting.” Your hand comes up to rub your chin in ‘thought’. It makes Pedro laugh and the sound makes your stomach flutter. 

“Can we have everyone group up so we can start? Please and thank you!” Someone you don’t recognize shouts over the talking in the room. Pedro looks down to you before speaking. 

“We’ll talk after yea?” Pedro asks. 

“Yea, sounds good.” You nod with an awkward thumbs up. He walks back over to the guys and you want to smack your head against the wall for the butterflies you felt squirming around in your stomach. Just talking to him for a few minutes had ruined you. You had no idea how you were going to get through the rest of the week. 

“How’d it go?” Sabrina whispers to you as someone begins introducing the skit to the room. 

“I’m actually going to kill you.” You whisper-yell towards her, earning a small laugh. “Oh, real smooth by the way. I’m sure he totally heard the person that so desperately needed you five feet away.” You deadpan at her and she waves you off, opting to listen to the person speaking. 

—

It was starting to get hot in the small room. The sketch included more people than you expected but the energy in the room was electrifying. You couldn’t stop laughing, constantly covering your mouth and trying you hardest not to snort. There was a long table taking up most of the back wall and the rest of the room was used as the ‘dance floor’. You quickly learned that the sketch was a spinoff of the popular ‘Domingo’ skit. You and Sabrina were playing twin sisters, the joke being that the two of you don’t look alike at all. It was added when the cast heard you were coming in as a replacement and your part was mostly for fun while Sabrina was there because the skit used her song ‘Espresso’. Even if it didn’t make sense for you to be included, you were having the time of your life. Soft giggles were coming from where Sabrina and yourself were standing. You were trying to go over the lines as quietly as possible, trying not to disturb the cast that was already learning the blocking and choreography for their parts. As each of you took turns softly singing off key, it became harder to contain. 

“You guys sound really great over there. You two should become professional singers or something.” Pedro whispers jokingly. He’s been standing close by, also looking at his lines on the papers that were handed out earlier. Sabrina looked at you and you both busted out laughing, earning a few curious looks from the rest of the room. 

After that small outburst, you both tried harder at staying quiet. Luckily, you only had to try for a few more minutes before the both of you were called up to join. The process of everything reminded you a lot of touring, making it easy to catch on quickly. You only had to run your section a few times before Pedro was being called up to join. You briefly read over his part in the script but stopped yourself when you saw ‘girls start dancing on Ronaldo’ written. 

“Okay, so Pedro, you’re gonna enter when Kelsey asks Matt who Ronaldo is. We’re gonna have you stand in between the girls and they’re gonna dance on you as you sing your part. Sound good?” The crew member asks and Pedro nods. You and Sabrina both take a step to the side to make room for him and he awkwardly makes his way there. They give him a few more directions before they have you all run that section together. 

“That was great. We just need more energy from you all when it comes to the dancing portion.” The choreographer says while writing something down in a notebook. 

“We might have to really grind on you Pedro. I’m sure you won’t mind?” Sabrina asks, side eyeing you with a smirk.

“Do whatever you girls need to do.” He says, giving you a smile that causes the outer corner of his eyes to crinkle. 

—

There’s only one more rehearsal and it happens Saturday morning when the entire cast runs through the full show before the actual airing. Everything went smooth, each skit a little less enthusiastic as they should be, each person saving their energy for tonight. You sang a very rough version of ‘Late Nights and Heartbreak’, to sound check with the band before heading back to the small dressing room where Stacy was waiting for you.

“So, how does it feel getting to grind on Pedro one last time tonight?” She asks, mouth full of food. 

“I’m not really grinding on him, more like his hip, but I’m very sad that my ass will never touch his body again.” You pout and wipe a fake tear from your eye. 

“Never say never.” Stacy says, tilting her head in a suggestive manner. 

“Okay Justin Bieber.” You take a bite out of your sandwich. 

“I think he was tryna cop a look earlier when y’all were rehearsing.” She wiggles her eyebrows causing you to blush. 

“He was not! You gotta stop feeding into my delusion. I get nervous around him when I think about it too much.” You sigh. You luckily didn’t see Pedro during the rest of the week. It’s not like you didn’t want to see him because you definitely did but after rehearsals on Monday, you spiraled. It’s like your phone heard you talking about him and decided to place an edit of him on your tiktok for you page. After watching that one edit, more flooded in…and if you created a collection of them…nobody has to know. 

“Nervous about what?” Pedro’s voice asks behind you and you jump up, straightening your previous shrimp-like posture. 

“Umm…nothing.” You panic as Stacy stifles a laugh. 

“Sorry if I’m intruding. We never got to talk again after rehearsals the other day and the door was open…” He trails off, leaning his shoulder into the door. Your neck was hurting from staring back at him but you were stunned. His outfit was simple, cozy. A pair of black lounge shorts that sat just above his knees, with a worn graphic tee that fit him loosely. His socks sat a few inches above his ankle where his feet sported an old pair of tennis shoes. You could see the definition in his right thigh, his shorts pulling up slightly from the way his leg was bent to support his leaning body. He looked really, really fucking good. 

“You actually have perfect timing! I need to handle some business stuff for this diva.” Stacy jokes as she points to you. It earns a small chuckle from Pedto. “Keep her company while I’m gone?” Stacy asks and it brings you back to reality. 

“Will do.” Pedro salutes, standing up straight. Stacy gets up, sandwich in hand as she walks past Pedro and through the door. You turn your head forward, relieving the tension in your neck as Pedro sits in the seat that was previously occupied by Stacy. You don’t speak first, you can’t. The guilt of the endless edits you watched late at night were eating away at you as the man you’ve been thirsting over sat right in front of you. You were so fucked. 

“I didn’t get to tell you but you’ve been doing great in the sketch by the way. You should consider acting.” You look at his face fully for the first time, his glasses perched on top of his nose. 

“You’re being too nice. The only thing getting me through it is having Sabrina there, I’d be a terrible actress.” You emphasize the ‘terrible’ as you pick at the bread of your sub. 

“Let’s agree to disagree.” He says, leaning back into the chair more. His movement makes you aware of just how close you are. “You really are doing great though. I might have sat through your sound check earlier…You sound just as good as you did back in London.” He continues on and you feel your cheeks heat up. “You’re very talented.” You suck at taking compliments and don’t know what else to say other than that. 

“You’ve got to stop complimenting me. My head is already too big for my own good.” You joke. 

“Hard not to compliment genuine talent.” He offers, pushing his glasses back up from where they fell just a little too far down. 

“Okay well anyways…I suck at taking compliments so we’re moving on.” You blurt out. He laughs with a big smile. You scrunch your face to prevent your own smile from slipping out. “Oh..I overheard a few people earlier saying something about a mullet?” You ask, moving the embarrassment from yourself to him. 

“Yea..Had a fitting for everything the other day. I’m not gonna lie, I’m a pretty confident man…but I’m not sure if the mullet is for me.” One of his hands reaches up to tug at the loose curl that hangs perfectly from his hair. 

“I’m sure you look great. Kinda hard for a haircut to mess up a pretty face.” You shrug while finally taking another bite of your sandwich. 

“You think I’m pretty?” He asks with a smirk. You stop chewing for a moment as you realize what you just said. Your mouth always works faster than your brain in the worst moments. You swallow before answering. 

“I mean…you’re not ugly. Can’t a girl appreciate a handsome guy without being questioned about it?” You try your best to be nonchalant and you’re hoping it came off that way. You think it does because he just hums in response, a pause before he speaks again. 

“Are you going to the after party tonight?” The smirk is gone and replaced with that soft smile that seems to always be sitting on his face. 

“Oh. I haven’t really thought about it. Parties aren’t really my thing to be honest.” You answer. 

“Well I for one, definitely would like to see you there and I’m sure everyone else would too.” His voice is sincere. 

“Hm..I guess since the Pedro Pascal wants me there, I have to show up.” 

“So you’ll be there?” He asks, his voice hopeful. 

“I’ll think about it, pretty boy.” He smiles. 

–

The show was moving quicker than you thought it would. You already performed your song and to your luck, you wouldn’t have to air out your dating struggles to the world on some dumb ass podcast. The energy in the room was weird. Everyone was excited to be celebrating the fifty years of history but there was still a somber feeling in the air as the room thought back onto their most treasured memories. You used that feeling to sing rather than the breakup, creating the emotion you needed without using your personal fervor. Once you stepped off stage, you rushed back into your dressing room to get changed for the espresso skit. The costume was simple, a satin bridesmaid style dress with a pair of tan heels with your hair being left down. After you were all set for the sketch, you made your way over to Sabrina’s dressing room, announcing yourself with a soft knock. 

“You ready to grind your ass on Pedro one last time?” Sabrina asks when she sees you, her usual bright smile on her face. There’s a crew member from the hair department adding a few more bobby pins to her hair. 

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” You sigh, slumping on the door frame. 

“If I were you, I’d take advantage of this moment…really get in there. Show him what he’s missing.” She does a few thrust while trying not to move her head too much. 

“I basically called him hot earlier.” You admit and Sabrina snaps her head in your direction in shock. 

“Bitch what!?!?” She yells. The hair stylist gasps at the sudden movement and noise before going back to fix the hair that fell. Sabrina apologizes and looks at you through the mirror. “Tell me everything.” 

You tell her everything. How Pedro came to your dressing room because he didn’t catch you after rehearsals like he said he would. How he looked better than a man ever has before. How he kept complimenting you and how you said that the stupid mullet couldn’t be that bad because of his stupid, handsome face. How he said he wanted you at the after party. How you called him pretty a second time before Stacy came back and he left, but not before wishing you luck for tonight and squeezing your shoulder. 

“Y/n, I need you to listen to me very closely.” She’s turned towards you now, the hair stylist having left half way through your rambling. “That man likes you and you need to grind on him tonight.” You had been paying attention to her, taking her seriously until she said the last part. 

“Sab, I’m not grinding on him. Oh my fucking god…that’s like borderline sexual assault.” You throw your head back and squeeze your eyes shut. 

“It’s not! Pedro literally said to do whatever we needed to do and you need to grind on him.” She laughs and you scoff. “I’m joking, I’m joking.” She reveals. “...Partially joking.” You punch her lightly in the arm. 

“So you are going to the party right?” She asks with her eyebrows raised. 

“I mean, I feel like I have to. When a hot guy tells you he wants you somewhere, you go.” You say. “But, if he doesn’t talk to me at all, you and Stacy are going to have to carry me out of there because I will be too embarrassed to move.” 

“Oh he will talk to you. I’ll make sure it happens.” She gives an evil laugh while tapping her fingers together in a way that only a cartoon villain would. 

Over the speaker system, they announce places for the ‘vowel renewal’ sketch and the two of you make your way towards the stage that was setup for the performance. On the short walk, Pedro ends up joining the small posse and Sabrina immediately through you into yet another uncomfortable situation. 

“Oh my god! I’m digging the little chin hair you’ve got going on.” She says, pointing out the small patch of hair they added to his Ronaldo costume. “Doesn’t he look so hot Y/n?” You slowly turn your head towards her before agreeing. “Very hot.” You say while trying your best to walk straight while giving Sabrina a ‘I’m gonna kill you’ look. Thankfully Pedro laughs it off and the conversation ends there, the rest of the walk filled with the light tapping of heels on the tile. 

The sketch is over in the blink of an eye, one moment you’re out there and the next you’re right back in the dressing room. You didn’t take Sabrina’s terrible advice of grinding on Pedro to show him ‘what he was missing’, rather sticking to exactly what you did in rehearsal. So when your butt happened to move down the fly of Pedro’s pants instead of his thigh, it’s not your fault. 

—

You spent the rest of the show in the audience with Stacy until the very end when everyone that was a part of the show went back on stage. You laughed your ass off at seeing Pedro in his mullet wig and shut right up when you made eye contact with him. The tension you felt while near him had already been at an all time high but now that you’ve felt his dick slide across your ass cheek, you had no fucking idea how you were supposed to be normal around him. Was he gonna mention it? Did he even notice it? Did it affect him the same way it affected you? Your mind was spiraling. 

You were standing with Sabrina in the large crowd of people and you could hear Pedro’s voice lingering somewhere close by. You introduced yourself to a few people you hadn’t met before and as the room started to die down, you made your way back to the dressing room where Stacy was waiting for you. She called a car, deciding earlier in the day to go back to the hotel to change for the after party. You chose to wear a dress that allowed you to move more freely, shorter than the one you wore while sitting in the audience, with a pair of heels that you knew you’d regret wearing in the morning. You switched out your jewelry and purse to match the outfit better before you were leaving the hotel just as quickly as you had arrived. 

The afterparty was being held in some old, dingy dive bar that you were over dressed for. It reeked of alcohol and sweat, the maximum occupancy had definitely been broken for the sake of the Saturday Night Live after party. It was an open bar, someone with more money than they could ever need in a lifetime, had already offered to pay the tab at the end of the night. There was music blasting way too loudly for the normal bar to be playing and you’re certain there were some speakers hidden somewhere that were added just for tonight. You were immediately overstimulated and wishing you were in bed instead. You ordered the fruitiest drink the bar offered and made your way to somewhere less crowded, Stacy following your lead. Ugh, the things you do for men. 

“You must really like him for you to still be here right now.” Stacy points out, eyes roaming the growing crowd. 

“He better like me back because he’s literally the only reason I didn’t turn right back around when I came through that door.” You sigh, wishing the drink would be strong enough to calm you down. 

It wasn’t, but Sabrina pulled Stacy and yourself out of the corner and into the middle of the dance floor almost an hour ago. The three of you had been dancing and singing at the top of your lungs, getting everyone around you to join in. Everyone cheered when the intro to the ‘Cupid Shuffle’ came on, you’d been waiting for it to play since you requested it almost twenty minutes ago. That also happens to be the amount of time it’s been since you learned that there was a DJ taking song requests. The song comes and goes with many other middle school dance songs following it. Your song requests end with ‘Wobble’ by V.I.C and the second it ends, you’re yelling over the music, letting Stacy and Sabrian know that you needed a breather. You push your way through the crowd as politely as possible, trying to avoid the sweaty bodies from hitting your own as you make your way to the bar. 

“Can I get a glass of water please?” You ask the bartender as you lean across the counter. 

“I’ve been looking all over for you babygirl. Heard you did great tonight.” The voice sends you into a state of shock..or maybe it’s the feeling can be better described as panic? You weren’t sure what feelings were brewing in your mind but it caused you to call out to the bartender again. 

“Actually, give me whatever you think will make me black out the fastest..please.” You plead toward the bartender as a warm, large hand reaches for the small of your back. “Oh go ahead and double that while you’re at it!” You yell at the poor bartender that’s turned away from you, already in the middle of mixing your poison. 

“You can’t ignore me all night sweetheart.” That thick, Australian accent creeped into your ears again, his hand still sitting firmly on your back, falling a little too close to something that no longer belonged to him. 

“Hugh, hi. What are you doing here?” You ask, shimming away from the contact, his hand falling down. What you really wanted to ask was “why the actual fuck are you here right now?” but you were trying to be nice. 

“Ryan invited me. I wanted to be at the actual show but got caught up with some stuff.” He flicks his hand in the air a bit. “Nice song by the way. It’s good to hear that you’re actually taking accountability for what happened between us instead of blaming me for everything.” He nods, lips in a tight smile. 

“Hugh, don’t fucking start.” You say, patience and the ability to hold back any annoyance had slipped away. The bartender slides over a glass and you take a large gulp with immediate regret. The strong taste of liquor makes your tongue curl back in disgust. 

“What? Can the truth only come from your mouth and not mine?” He asked. You look up at him, his piercing blue eyes already staring down at you. The corners of his eyes, red. The same red that would take residency there when he wasn’t getting enough sleep. A small fact that you picked up in the time you spend with him, a fact you could care less about now. 

“Well, it was nice seeing you. Bye Hugh.” You slam the rest of your drink, sitting the glass down a little harder than you probably should have, and you start to walk away. You don’t make it far before a hand is grabbing your wrist, tugging you. “What the fuck do you want.” You snap, turning back towards Hugh. 

It’s been months since you’ve seen Hugh, the last time being when the two of you broke it off. It was ugly, angry. You could feel all of those feelings rising within you and this was not the place you wanted this to go down, not in front of your friends and colleagues. 

“I just wanna talk to you, clear the air.” Hugh says, voice softer and the antagonizing look gone. 

“Don’t give me that look Hugh.” You sigh. “Do you actually wanna talk or are you just gonna berate me the entire time?” He looks down. 

“I wanna talk, I miss you.” The last part is almost a whisper, just loud enough for you to hear over the party that continued to rawr through the interaction. You grunt, telling him to follow you. With a quick scan over the area, you find a bright red ‘EXIT’ sign and make your way towards it. It leads you down a longer hallway, a door at the end with another glowing sign above it. You stop a few feet from the door, back against the wall. 

“Are you gonna talk or are we just gonna stand here all night?” You ask Hugh after a beat of silence, patience running thin. He nods, “Right..” He says, mostly to himself. 

“I’m sorry for the way things ended.” He looks at you and you almost laugh. 

“Is that really all you have to say?” You ask, humor in your voice. He shakes his head. 

“No…I, uh…I’m sorry for cheating on you and letting things between us go on for as long as I did. I really do like you but I was in such a weird headspace with the divorce and all I just-” 

This time you do laugh. 

“Bull fucking shit. You don’t get to use your divorce as an excuse Hugh. Not when you cheated on your fucking wife with the same girl you cheated on me with.” You pause. “Matter of fact, why the fuck are you here and not with her? Did she already leave you again?” You laugh, it’s cruel. You’re being childish and petty but you don’t care. The look he gives you tells you everything you need to know. 

“She did leave you!” You shout in between giggles. “Oh my fucking god Hugh. You’re so fucking pathetic. She left you so you tried to come crawling back to me..is that what’s happening right now?” You ask in utter disbelief. 

“You aren’t exactly innocent in all of this.” He mumbles. 

“I’m gonna say this nice and slow so you get it through that meathead brain of yours.” You look him in the eyes. “My mistakes were made weeks into our relationship and they never got physical. Yes I flirted with people but that was it. You cheated on me for two months of our relationship Hugh and let her harass me for weeks before you broke up with me.” You breathe for a moment, sadness creeping in. “You told me you loved me for fucks sake. You made me think that I could love you too.” You admit. 

“But baby, I do love you, so so much darling.” He says, reaching out for you but you pull away before he can touch you. 

“You don’t love me and you never have. All you did was use me and I just let you.” Your voice crumbles and your eyes betray you, a few tears falling down your cheeks. “You never once called me when I was away on tour to see how I was doing. The only time you texted me was when you were horny and the only time you actually showed up was when you wanted to fuck.” Your voice gets stronger with each word you say, the anger rising as you remember what he did. “So don’t sit here and tell me you love me when the truth is that you don’t know how to be alone. It’s not something you should be ashamed of considering you were married longer than I’ve been alive but it’s your fault you're alone Hugh. You’re facing the consequences of your shitty actions and I don’t wanna be a part of that anymore.” 

Hugh stays quiet, looking at the floor. You take a moment, giving him the chance to speak but he never does. 

“Goodbye Hugh.” 

—

You walk out the door under the exit sign, pushing the metal bar and stepping into the cold air of February. The tears on your face began to dry with the small breeze that was a constant, causing chill bumps to form on your arms and legs. You regretted not listening to Stacy after she begged you to bring a coat. You wouldn’t have needed one if not for Hugh’s intrusion on the night but you weren’t ready to go back in there. You lean your back against the brick wall of the bar when the door opens again. A figure walks out, one that you can’t make out, the blur in your eyes from your tears isn’t helping your poor eyesight. They either don’t see you or they ignore you, lighting up a cigarette and leaning their own back against the wall. 

Most people hate the smell of cigarettes but it calms you down, reminding you of home. Memories of late Friday nights spent with your family, crowding around a bonfire that was made up of wooden pallets your dad would pick up from the farmer supply store a few miles out. Each of your male relatives sitting in a cheap plastic lawn chair with a beer in one hand, cigarette in the other. Country music blaring through the radio because any other music was just some ‘mumbo jumbo’ that didn’t make sense. It brings a smile to your face thinking about how the last time you sat around that burn pile, fire blazing, that ‘mumbo jumbo’ was your song playing on the radio, proud stares from your family. 

The recollection slips away by the sound of the stranger scuffing out the cigarette on the concrete, their shoe making a less than pleasant noise as it scrapes the rough surface of the ground. Just as they head towards the door, the light from the streetlamp catches their face. 

“Pedro?” You didn’t mean for it to come out as a question but it did. He turns, a face of confusion turning into a face of shock. 

“Y/n..” It comes out almost as a gasp. “Hey. What are you doing out here?” His hand drops from its previous spot on the door handle and walks over to you. 

“Eh..long story.” You shrug. “I didn’t know you smoked.” You say, pointing at the cigarette bud that had been discarded on the ground. He turns to look at the bud before turning back towards you, a look of embarrassment on his face. 

“Bad habit I picked up.” It’s his turn to shrug. “But uh..I’ve been looking for you. I was starting to think you weren’t gonna show.” 

“Sorry, I was on the dance floor then I…well now I’m here.” You say and he laughs. 

“I thought I saw you out there. I wasn’t so sure since you said parties aren’t your thing.” He teases. 

“I’m surprised you weren’t out there yourself. I’ve gotten to see your moves this week, you’re a pretty good dancer.” You tease back but his cheeks get red. 

“About that…I’m so sorry for what happened on stage tonight. I just kinda turned and then your…butt was on me and I…I’m sorry.” He says. 

You want to tell him that he doesn’t need to be sorry and that he secretly fulfilled all of your perverted thoughts but you don’t. 

“Dude, it’s fine. I think we all got a little carried away out there.” You both laugh.

“We should head back in, you look like your one goosebump away from freezing.” He says, pointing at your arms. You instinctively rub your hands over your arms to warm them up, the cold much more noticeable now. 

“I think I’m done for the night. I’m beat.” You say, leaving out that it’s an emotional drain and not a physical one. “You should head back in though, go enjoy the night.” You smile. 

“I’m a bit tired too if I’m being honest.” He smiles sheepishly. “I was gonna tough it out for you.” 

“For me?” You ask. 

“Yea. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I kinda like being around you.” 

“I kinda like being around you too.” You admit, those butterflies erupting once again. “I was thinking about finding some place to get a coffee if you wanted to join?” He lets out a deep belly laugh and you’re convinced it’s the most attractive laugh you’ve ever heard in your life. 

“You want to get coffee at..” He checks his watch. “..two in the morning?” He asks. 

“Yep.” You say, popping the ‘p’. “Coffee makes me sleepy.” 

“I don’t think that’s a good thing sweetheart.” He frowns. The endearment sounds a lot better coming from his lips than it does coming from Hugh’s. 

“You don’t have to come. I can go on my coffee excursion alone.” You say, slowly beginning to walk off. Pedro follows. 

—

“Ugh my feet hurt and I’m cold.” You complain…again. 

The two of you had been walking for the past thirty minutes trying to find a coffee shop you searched on google maps but it literally wasn’t where it says it is. You’ve looped the block over and over again but still, no coffee shop. 

“Take my jacket.” Pedro offers for the millionth time. 

“No.” You say in response for the millionth time. 

“Why not? You’re being very stubborn.” He sighs. 

You can’t tell him that if you take his jacket he won’t ever get it back and that you physically can’t handle the smell of him because of personal reasons..so you just say “Because.” and shrug. 

“My hotel is right around the block, we can go there where it’s warm. Plus there’s a keurig so you can have coffee.” He offers, pointing in the opposite direction. You gasp playfully. 

“Pedro Pascal, at least take a girl out to dinner first before taking her up to your hotel room.” You joke, swatting at his arm. He rolls his eyes with a smile. 

“Do you want coffee or not?” He asks. 

“Yes please.” 

Then you two are off in the exact direction you’d come from and had walked multiple times before. When you reach the hotel entrance, Pedro opens the door for you. 

“Dude, we’ve passed this place so many times and you just now came up with this idea?” You ask, body accepting the warmth of the lobby with a slight sting from the sudden change in temperature. Pedro leads you to the elevator, letting you enter first when the doors open. 

“I thought about it on our third lap around but didn’t wanna freak you out.” He says honestly with a shrug. He clicks button fifteen, which happens to be the top floor,  and the elevator starts moving. 

“What time is it?” You ask, too lazy to grab your phone out of the small purse that's been glued to your shoulder all night. 

“About a quarter to three.” He says, a yawn escaping his mouth. The elevator opens and you both walk down the right of the hallway, only two doors being on the floor. He’s opening the door as another yawn creeps out. 

“Hey, I can call my car if you’re too tired. I won’t be offended I promise.” You smile, entering the hotel room, or hotel suite rather. The room looks like a small apartment rather than a hotel room. It’s bigger than the suite you have with Stacy, despite it being two rooms instead of what you can assume is the one. 

“I want you here.” He assures. “I’m getting too old to be up this late.” He laughs but you frown. “Make yourself comfortable, I’m gonna grab a sweater for you and I’m not taking no for an answer.” He’s walking down the small hallway before you can protest. You sigh and plop down on the couch, finally fishing your phone out of your purse. You’re met with endless texts and missed calls from Stacy: 

Stacypoo <33: where are you?

Stacypoo <33: we’ve looked everywhere

Stacypoo <33: we saw Hugh, are you okay? 

Stacypoo <33: pls answer, I’m getting worried 

The phone rings only once before Stacy answers. 

“Are you okay? Where are you?” She asks, voice full of worry. 

“Stacy I’m so sorry, everything happened so fast and I-” Your voice was rushed and full of remorse. 

“Hey. As long as you’re okay, it’s okay. Where are you right now?” She asks, voice calmer now. 

“I’m uh…I’m at Pedro’s hotel.” You lower your voice. You hear shuffling coming from the hall and Pedro is walking back out. He’s changed into a pair of sweatpants and hoodie, shoes forgotten about, fuzzy socks replaced his previous white socks that you caught peeking in between his loafer and dress pants earlier. 

“You’re what?!?” Stacy whispers yells on the other end of the line. 

“It’s a long story, I’ll explain later, promise. You made it back okay?” You ask. 

“Yea I’m fine, I called the car when the bar started wrapping the party up. Are you coming back tonight or should I schedule a pick up for the morning?” She asks. Pedro, places a set of clothes on the edge of the couch you’re sitting on and walks over to the small kitchen. 

“Um..I’m not exactly sure yet. Get some sleep though, I’ll figure everything out okay?” The smell of coffee fills the air as the keurig starts dripping. 

“You sure.” Stacy responds. Pedro smiles over at you as he leans back on the counter, arms crossed. 

“I’m sure. I’m sorry for worrying you, I’ll see you soon.” You smile over to Pedro. 

“Okay, be safe. Love you.” She yawns.

“Love you Stac.” The call ends. Pedro walks over as the next cup of coffee brews. 

“I brought you a hoodie as promised along with sweats and socks to keep you warm. Only the hoodie is required but the rest would be appreciated.” He smiles. You stand up, stretching a little. You grab the stack of clothes. 

“Where can I change?” You ask and he points down the hall. 

“There’s the bedroom right down the hall. The bathroom is there too if you’re more comfortable with that.” You nod and head down the hall. You opt for the bathroom, the thought of changing in Pedro’s room felt like an invasion of privacy even if it was just his hotel room and not his actual one. You changed out of your dress quickly, the endless lights on the vanity were bliding. You admired yourself in the mirror for a moment and decided you really liked the way you looked in Pedro’s clothes. The smell coming from them was new. It wasn’t like the smell of cologne you had gotten used to but the true scent of him. You left the bathroom with the hood of the hoodie placed on your head…it totally wasn’t because you could smell his scent better… 

“Do you want milk or sugar? I don’t have creamer, sorry if that’s your thing.” He says without looking, mixing his own coffee. 

“You bought milk for your hotel room?” You ask in shock and a hint of playful judgement, fully expecting to drink a black coffee. 

“God forbid a man likes a glass of milk before bed. I'm an old man sweetheart.” He says, with one eyebrow raised.

“You need to get off tiktok.” You laugh. “But, you’re not old.” You add on, moving towards the counter to add a splash of milk to your mug. 

“Older than you.” He replies with a hum. Taking a sip of his own coffee, which he almost spits out at your response. 

“But not old enough to invite a twenty three year old to your hotel right?” You ask, smirking. You walk over to the small island and take a seat on one of the bar stools, Pedro stands on the other side. 

“You got me there.” He says, looking into his mug. A guilty look flashes across his eyes when he looks up at you. 

“Hey, I didn’t say that to be mean. Just teasing.” You say, he nods. “It’s not a bad thing that I’m here.” 

“It should be.” He says and takes another sip. 

“Why’s that?” You ask but you know what he’s gonna say. It’s the same conversation you had with Hugh. 

“You’re what…like thirty years younger than me?” He says, not really a question but it’s posed as one. You shake your head. 

“Only twenty six years.” You correct him and he chuckles. 

“Right. Twenty six years, like that’s any better. I had a whole life before you were born. I’m probably only a few years younger than your parents.” He says as a joke and you wince. 

“You’re actually older than them…” You tell him and he looks up to the ceiling, almost as if he's cursing some higher being. 

“Great. I’m older than your parents. That makes me feel a lot better.” He shakes his head. 

“You brought them up. I was just trying to be honest.” You say, throwing your hands up in the air in surrender. 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. It’s not your fault.” He says, clearing his throat as he takes another sip of coffee. Your own coffee has been forgotten, getting cold as it sits on the counter. 

“What’s not my fault?” You ask confused. He looks up, eyes locking with yours. 

“That I’m infatuated with a girl over half my age.” He admits, sitting his own mug down on the counter. 

“You’re infatuated with me?” You ask in awe, disbelief even. You had a feeling he had to like you a little bit to stay up until three in the morning with you but hearing the words out loud is different. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” He asks. “Since I met you, you haven’t left my mind.” He pauses. “And seeing you at BBC and hearing you weren’t with Hugh anymore, I don’t think I’ve ever felt happier. I felt bad because you seemed sad and I still feel bad for feelings as joyous as I did at that moment. We keep bumping into each other and I feel like I’m too old to believe in fate but…if it’s not that then what else could it be?” He says, eyes never leaving yours. 

“If it makes you feel any better, I feel the same way.” You admit, sheepishly. The shyness you’ve escaped was finally catching up to you. 

“Yea?” He asks with a smile, his dimple dipping into his cheek a little more than usual. 

“Yea.” You confirm. “Come here.” You tell him, swiveling the bar stool to face away from the counter. He walks over and you pull him by his hoodie sleeves, placing him in between your legs. You set his hands on your thighs and look up at him. The closeness makes your body tingle as his eyes set on yours. You each move forward slowly, lips inching closer and closer until they're almost touching. 

A phone rings and Pedro pulls back in a curse. He walks over to where his phone sits on the counter. 

“Sorry, I gotta take this. My sister is in London and she’s always forgetting about the time difference. I’ll be back.” He says, kissing your right cheek before stepping onto the balcony that’s attached to the small ‘living room’. You sigh, moving to the couch. Your eyes are heavy, the quietness of the room reminding you of the time. Pedro talks to his sister with a smile on his face, cigarette placed in between his fingers. The last thing you remember before drifting off to sleep is Pedro’s smile and little wave from outside.

thank you for reading! feel free to leave feedback in a comment, private message, or in my ask box!

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[sweetmisery]

oops, i think i love you | yoon keeho

summary: falling for your best friend was never part of the plan, but when Keeho returns home, teasing turns into tension and a secret comes to light. now you‘re faced with the question: was this always meant to be or will it ruin everything?

pairing: keeho x female!reader

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 8.3k

a/n: sassy Keeho with a little bit of teasing on top makes the perfect match 🫶🏼 thank you to the anon who requested this, i really enjoyed writing it :) hope you enjoooy!! ♡

The soft hum of your phone vibrating on the nightstand broke the silence of your dimly lit bedroom. You reached for it instinctively, already knowing who it was before even checking the screen.

Keeho.

Swiping to answer, you were immediately greeted by his familiar voice, laced with exhaustion but still carrying that unmistakable warmth.

“Yo, you still awake?”

Rolling onto your back, you stared at the screen. “Obviously. Who else would pick up your late-night FaceTime calls?”

His laughter was soft but genuine. The screen stayed black for a moment as he fumbled with his phone, probably trying to prop it up somewhere. Then, his face appeared, slightly disheveled, hair damp, probably fresh from a shower. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but somehow, he still looked effortlessly good.

“So,” you teased, propping yourself up on one elbow, “how was the day in the glamorous life of Keeho?”

He groaned dramatically, dragging a hand down his face. “Brutal. Dance practice for hours, then interviews, then photoshoots… I think my soul left my body at some point.”

“Did you find it again, or is this just your ghost calling me?”

“Not sure. Wanna exorcise me just in case?”

You laughed, shaking your head. This was how it always was between you two - easy, effortless. No matter how busy he got, no matter how exhausted he felt, Keeho always made time to call. It was a small thing, but it meant everything.

“Hold on, let me get comfortable,” he muttered, and the screen blurred as he moved. He shifted until he was lying down, his head resting against a pillow. “There. Now we can suffer together.”

You scoffed. “I’m not suffering.”

“Liar.”

You opened your mouth to protest but stopped. He wasn’t entirely wrong. Lately, things had felt… different. It wasn’t just the same old playful friendship anymore. Not for you.

It started subtly. The way your heart raced when you saw him perform on stage in videos, the way your stomach flipped whenever he sent you a random selfie looking stupidly handsome, the way you found yourself replaying old voice messages just to hear his voice.

And now, lying there, watching him through the screen as he lazily blinked at you, you felt it again - that soft ache in your chest. The one that whispered, this is more than just friendship.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Because if you were wrong, if this was one-sided, it could ruin everything.

You took a quiet breath, pushing those thoughts away. “Anyway, are you at least eating properly?”

Keeho smirked. “Look at you, being all caring.”

“Shut up. Just answer.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, I’m not about to starve to death.” He shifted slightly, looking at you with an unreadable expression. “Hey… you good, though?”

The question caught you off guard. “Huh?”

“I don’t know. You seem kinda… off lately.”

Your heart skipped. Were you that obvious?

You forced a laugh. “I could say the same about you, Mr. ‘My Soul Left My Body.’”

Keeho narrowed his eyes like he wasn’t buying it, but he didn’t push. “Fine. I’ll let you off the hook. For now.”

“How generous of you.”

You stayed on the call for a while longer, talking about nothing and everything, until eventually, his breathing evened out. He had fallen asleep.

You watched him for a moment, a small smile tugging at your lips. He’d probably scold you for not hanging up, but you didn’t care.

You whispered, just to yourself, “Good night, Kyo.”

And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself wonder - what if?

You weren’t even planning to watch the interview.

It had been a busy day, and you were just about to unwind when a notification popped up: P1Harmony’s latest interview was out. Normally, you caught up on these things eventually, but this time, something told you to watch it right away.

So you did.

The interview started off as expected: questions about their latest comeback, funny stories from the practice room, and the usual chaotic energy from the group. You smiled absentmindedly as Keeho joked around, his personality effortlessly shining through the screen.

Then came a question that made you sit up a little straighter.

“Do you guys even have friends outside the group? Or is it just you six, 24/7?”

The members laughed, exchanging knowing glances. Keeho was the first to answer.

“Of course, we have friends! But honestly, we barely get to see them because of our schedule.”

That much was true. He was always busy, always moving, always working. You had long accepted that your friendship existed mostly through late-night FaceTime calls and stolen moments when he was in town.

But then, Keeho continued.

“I actually have a best friend from childhood.”

Your lips curled into a small smile. That’s me.

“He understands my situation really well. He’s always there for me, especially in tough times, and I’m really grateful for that.”

The smile froze on your face.

…He?

Did you mishear that?

You quickly grabbed the remote and rewound the video, listening again.

“He understands my situation really well. He’s always there for me, especially in tough times, and I’m really grateful for that.”

Nope. You heard correctly.

Keeho just called you “he.”

A mix of emotions bubbled up inside you - confusion, annoyance, disbelief. Why would he say that? It’s not like the interviewer asked for your name. He could’ve just said “my best friend” and left it at that. But no. He specifically chose to refer to you as a guy.

You tried to brush it off, but it stuck with you for the rest of the day. So when Keeho called you that night, you were still fuming.

The second you picked up, you didn’t say a word. You just stared at him through the screen, arms crossed, lips pressed into a tight line.

Keeho, fresh from whatever long day he had, blinked at you in confusion. “Uh… what’s with the face?”

You narrowed your eyes. “So your best friend… who is he? And why have I never met him?”

Keeho paused, processing your words. Then, realization dawned on his face, and just like that, he burst out laughing.

“Oh my god,” he cackled, burying his face in his hands for a moment. “You’re mad about that?”

“You called me he on national television!” you snapped, though the irritation was quickly dissolving into something more playful.

Keeho wiped a fake tear from the corner of his eye, still grinning. “I had no choice! If I said she, people would start digging and freaking out.”

“Wow. So I’m just some mysterious guy to the world now?” You crossed your arms. “I feel so special.”

Keeho smirked. “Hey, technically, I still called you my best friend. You should be honored.”

“Oh, yeah. So honored.”

He rolled onto his side, resting his head on his hand. “You’re really pressed about this, huh?”

“I just think it’s funny,” you said, even though your face was still stuck in an unimpressed expression. “Do I look like a ‘he’ to you?”

“Hmm.” Keeho squinted at the screen like he was deep in thought. “Now that you mention it… maybe a little.”

Your jaw dropped. “You are so dead.”

Keeho cracked up again, his laughter filling the screen. “Relax, relax! You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Sure you didn’t,” you muttered.

The call naturally shifted into your usual banter after that, bouncing between playful teasing and casual conversation. Even after years of friendship, talking to Keeho always felt the same - comfortable, familiar, easy.

Then, near the end of the call, Keeho let out a content sigh. “Man, I can’t wait to go home next week.”

Your ears perked up. “Wait- You’re coming back?!”

“Yeah. Finally. It’s been way too long since I saw you in person.” He gave you a lazy smile. “I mean, technically, I see you every day, but you know what I mean.”

You rolled your eyes, but warmth spread in your chest anyway. “Took you long enough.”

“Missed me that much?” he teased.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said sarcastically, but the truth lingered behind the words.

Keeho grinned. “Good. ‘Cause I missed you too.”

And just like that, your heart did that stupid thing again - the little flutter, the quiet ache, the feeling you were still too scared to name.

You exhaled, shaking your head. “Whatever. Just hurry up and get back.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a lazy salute.

The call ended a few minutes later, and you fell back against your pillow, staring at the ceiling.

Next week.

You were finally going to see Keeho next week.

And somehow, that thought made it impossible to sleep.

The anticipation had been building all day.

Keeho was finally back.

You had offered to pick him up from the airport, but he had immediately shut that idea down.

“Too risky,” he had said over text. “If anyone sees us together, it could cause problems.”

You understood, but that didn’t mean you liked it. The thought of Keeho stepping out of the terminal, exhausted from his flight, and having to go home alone instead of being greeted by a familiar face didn’t sit right with you.

Still, you waited.

And then, finally, the doorbell rang.

You practically ran to the door, throwing it open with an excited grin. The second you saw Keeho standing there, his suitcase by his side and a playful smile on his lips, you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

“Whoa-!” Keeho laughed, stumbling back slightly before regaining his balance. Then, in true Keeho fashion, he took things a step further.

Before you could react, he lifted you off the ground and spun you in a full circle.

A surprised giggle escaped your lips as you clung to him, the familiar warmth of his embrace sending a rush of happiness through you. His presence, his scent, even his stupid antics - it all made your heart skip a beat.

When he finally set you down, you beamed up at him. “I’m so happy to finally see you again.”

Keeho smirked. “I don’t even know how you survived without me.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder. “Shut up.”

He chuckled and reached out to tousle your hair, messing it up on purpose. “I’m just kidding. I missed you too.”

You wanted to be annoyed, but you couldn’t stop smiling. It had been way too long since you had moments like this.

As you finally took a proper look at him, something about him felt… different. Of course, he was still the same Keeho, the same ridiculous goofball you grew up with, but there was something new in the way he carried himself.

“You look so different,” you said, tilting your head as you took him in.

Keeho smirked and ran a hand through his dark hair. “Glad you noticed that I got super handsome.”

You let out a sharp hiss of disapproval. “Cocky much?”

Keeho burst out laughing, nudging your arm. “I’m kidding! Without my team of stylists, I’d still be that ugly guy from a few years ago.”

“Okay, okay,” you sighed dramatically. “I get it. You are suuuper handsome now.”

You both laughed, the playful teasing feeling just as natural as ever. But there was more to it than just his looks.

“It’s not just that,” you added, suddenly more thoughtful. “It’s your whole presence. You’re more confident now.”

Keeho raised an eyebrow, watching you carefully. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

You met his gaze and smiled. “It’s good, of course. As long as you can still be your old self around me.”

Keeho’s expression softened slightly. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

The moment lingered just for a second before he smirked again. “Now, can we go inside? I need to destroy you in Mario Kart.”

With that, the conversation shifted back to its usual energy, but your words stayed with you. Keeho had changed. And as much as you liked teasing him about it, part of you wondered: was it only his confidence that had changed? Or were his feelings changing, too?

Once Keeho settled in, the two of you ended up on the sofa, falling into your usual routine - lazy, comfortable, and filled with endless teasing. Mario Kart became the game of the afternoon, and soon, the living room was filled with dramatic reactions and exaggerated insults.

“You are so bad at this game,” Keeho groaned as you crossed the finish line before him.

“You’re just mad because I’m winning,” you teased, flashing a smug grin.

“I’m mad because you got lucky,” he shot back.

“Excuses, excuses.”

Keeho dramatically collapsed against the couch, pretending to be gravely wounded by his loss. “How did I ever let you get this good? I trained you! I made you!”

“You did not train me,” you laughed. “You just sucked at the game from the start.”

He gasped, clutching his chest. “Betrayal.”

It was stupid, it was childish, it was perfect. Just the kind of moments you had been missing ever since Keeho moved to Korea and his life became a whirlwind of schedules and stages.

After a few more rounds, you finally asked, “By the way, why wouldn’t you let me pick you up from the airport?”

Keeho groaned, stretching his arms above his head. “Because there could’ve been fans there. If someone saw us together, it could start rumors.”

You frowned. “What kind of rumors?”

He glanced at you, as if the answer should have been obvious. “A dating scandal.”

You blinked. “Dating scandal?”

Keeho laughed. “Yeah. If I get spotted with a girl, people will definitely assume something.”

The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind before, but now that he said it, it made sense. To fans, Keeho wasn’t just a normal guy hanging out with a friend. He was an idol, and any interaction with a woman could spiral into endless speculation.

Still, a teasing glint appeared in your eyes. “Would that be so bad?”

Keeho let out an exaggerated “Uh-huh.”

But then, with a mischievous smirk, he added, “Also… just imagine people thinking you and me were dating. Wouldn’t that be so weird?”

Your stomach twisted.

It was just a joke. Just Keeho being Keeho. But for some reason, it stung.

You forced a laugh, shrugging off the strange feeling in your chest. “Yeah, yeah. That’d be hilarious,” you muttered, quickly focusing back on the game.

Keeho didn’t seem to notice the slight shift in your tone. He simply stretched his arms behind his head, completely at ease. “Exactly. So yeah, no airport meet-ups for us. Gotta keep you hidden.”

You hummed in response, but your mind was elsewhere. Because for the first time, it wasn’t just about hiding you from fans. It was about hiding your feelings from yourself.

The evening passed in a blur of laughter, teasing, and playful competition.

After multiple rounds of Mario Kart battles, way too many accusations of cheating, and an excessive amount of dramatic groaning from Keeho whenever he lost, the two of you finally called it quits.

You stretched, feeling the exhaustion from the day start to settle in. “Alright, I’m heading to bed.”

Keeho let out a deep sigh and leaned back against the couch. “Actually…”

You turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “Actually… what?”

“Can I just crash here tonight?” He gestured lazily around the room. “I’m too lazy to go anywhere else.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Of course, dumbass. You don’t even have to ask. Make yourself at home.”

Keeho grinned. “Knew I could count on you.”

With that, you turned toward your bedroom, already thinking about how nice it would feel to finally collapse into bed. But just as you reached the doorway, Keeho’s voice stopped you.

“Hey.”

You turned back around, finding him sitting up now, his expression softer than before.

“Thank you.”

You blinked, tilting your head slightly. “For what?”

Keeho hesitated for a moment, then gave you a small, genuine smile. “For everything.”

Your heart skipped. “Be more specific, dummy.”

He chuckled but then exhaled, his gaze turning more serious. “For being my best friend. And mostly… for treating me the same way you always did.”

You frowned slightly. “Why would I treat you any differently?”

Something in Keeho’s expression shifted. He glanced down for a second, as if choosing his words carefully.

“You know… once you become famous, people start treating you differently,” he said quietly. “Or worse, they use you for your fame to get something out of it. It’s hard to tell who’s really there for you and who just wants the advantages that come with knowing you.”

You stayed silent, letting him continue.

“But with you, it’s different,” he said, looking back up at you. “I know I can always be myself around you. I can rely on you without wondering if there’s a catch. So… thank you for that.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart beat just a little faster.

You gave him a soft smile. “Of course, Kyo.”

Keeho’s eyes flickered at the nickname, the corner of his lips twitching like he wanted to smile again.

“I’ll always be here whenever you need me,” you added.

Keeho’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he gave a small nod. “Good night, then.”

“Good night,” you said, offering him one last smile before finally heading into your room.

You shut the door behind you, but sleep didn’t come easily.

Instead, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, Keeho’s words replaying in your mind.

You had always known he trusted you. You had always known your friendship was special. But hearing him say it like that, hearing the vulnerability in his voice, the way he relied on you so completely, it made your emotions feel even more complicated.

The boy you had been friends with since forever, the one who had been there through every stage of your life, the one who made you laugh without even trying, the one who had somehow become more attractive every time you saw him, was only a few meters away from you.

But somehow, it still felt like he was far out of your reach.

The room was dark, and the warmth of your blankets wrapped around you like a cocoon. You were lost in the depths of sleep when suddenly, a hand gripped your waist.

A soft breath ghosted against your skin as you shifted in bed, feeling an unfamiliar presence beside you. Your body tensed.

Your eyelids fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light filtering through the window. Keeho.

He was next to you.

Your heart skipped a beat as your mind scrambled to process what was happening. “Keeho? What are you-”

“Shhh.”

Keeho’s index finger gently pressed against your lips, silencing you before you could say anything else.

Your breath caught in your throat. This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t your usual playful Keeho.

Before you could react, he leaned in.

And then - he kissed you.

Your eyes widened in shock at first, the feeling of his lips against yours sending a wave of disbelief through your body. This was real. This was happening.

But as the initial surprise faded, something inside you gave in. Something that had been buried for too long.

Your eyes fluttered shut, and without thinking, you melted into the kiss.

Keeho pulled you closer, his grip on your waist tightening as the kiss deepened. His warmth, his touch, everything about him felt so intoxicatingly familiar yet completely new at the same time.

You had no idea what this meant. Why was Keeho doing this? What did it mean for your friendship?

But in that moment, you didn’t care.

Until-

You woke up.

Your eyes snapped open, heart pounding. Staring up at the ceiling, you tried to breathe, to process, to make sense of what had just happened. Until it hit you.

It was just a dream.

Sitting up abruptly, you ran a hand through your hair, trying to steady yourself. Your lips tingled as if the sensation had been real, and without thinking, your fingers traced over them.

“What the hell was that?” you whispered to yourself.

As if to ground yourself, you glanced around the room. Everything was exactly as it had been when you went to bed. The blanket was still wrapped around you. The door to your bedroom was still closed.

Just then, the faint sound of running water reached your ears. You turned toward the door, realizing Keeho was still here. He must’ve woken up before you and was now taking a shower.

You exhaled sharply, pressing your hands against your face. How the hell were you supposed to look him in the eye after having such a wild dream?

You sat at the edge of your bed, rubbing your temples. Get a grip. It was just a dream. A very realistic, very intense dream, but still, just a dream.

Shaking off the lingering sensation of Keeho's lips on yours, you got up and made your way to the living room, hoping some fresh air would help clear your head.

The first thing you noticed were Keeho's clothes scattered across the sofa. His hoodie, his sweatpants, his socks, his boxers - all of them just thrown there like he had stripped on the spot.

Your brain was still half-asleep, so it took a second to register why they were there.

And then, before you could process it, you turned around and slammed straight into something solid. No. Someone.

Large hands instinctively wrapped around your arms to steady you, keeping you from stumbling back. The warmth of his skin against yours sent a shock through your body, and when you looked up, you froze.

Keeho was standing right in front of you.

Dripping wet.

His damp, dark hair clung to his forehead, strands falling into his deep brown eyes.

His bare chest was still glistening from the shower, water droplets running down the sharp lines of his toned torso.

And that's when you realized.

He was wearing nothing but a towel.

Keeho was basically naked.

A strangled noise left your throat as you jumped back, throwing your hands over your eyes like it would somehow erase what you just saw.

"Oh my god! Keeho!"

Keeho burst out laughing, completely unbothered. "What? Can't handle the sight in front of you?"

Your face burned. "Put on some clothes, you idiot!"

He smirked. "Why are you acting so weird? You've seen me shirtless countless times before."

Yeah. But this time was different.

This time, your mind was still stuck in that dream. This time, he wasn't just your best friend. This time, you couldn't ignore how attractive he was.

You kept your hands firmly over your eyes, refusing to let yourself look at him again.

"That was before you became a full-on gym rat!"

Keeho grinned. "Oh? So you're saying I look better now?"

You groaned. "Shut up and put some damn clothes on!"

Still chuckling, Keeho ruffled his damp hair and finally turned to grab his clothes from the couch.

Meanwhile, you stood there, refusing to open your eyes, trying to will your heart to stop racing.

After what felt like an eternity of keeping your eyes shut, you finally heard Keeho shuffling around behind you. A moment later, his voice rang out, still way too amused for your liking.

“Alright, alright. I’m dressed. You can relax now.”

Cautiously, you peeked through your fingers, just to be safe. Keeho stood in front of you, now fully clothed in his hoodie and sweatpants, hair still slightly damp but no longer dripping.

You exhaled in relief, pretending like your heart wasn’t still racing. Pretending like you weren’t replaying the image of him half-naked in your mind. Pretending like last night’s dream wasn’t messing with your head.

Keeho smirked, watching you carefully. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you said way too fast.

Keeho’s smirk deepened. “Are you sure? You seem kinda… tense.”

“I’m fine,” you said, waving him off. “Let’s just- let’s eat or something. I’m starving.”

“Uh-huh,” Keeho said, clearly not buying it, but thankfully, he didn’t push. Instead, he stretched his arms over his head and yawned. “Alright, food sounds good. What do you have?”

You made your way to the kitchen, glad for the distraction. “Not much. I need to go grocery shopping. But I think I have eggs, maybe some toast.”

Keeho gasped dramatically, cutting you off. “Excuse me? You invited an international K-pop sensation into your home and didn’t prepare a five-star meal for him?”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “First of all, you invited yourself. Second of all, you’re getting whatever I have, Mr. International K-pop Sensation.”

Keeho grinned. “Fair enough. I’ll make us something.”

“You can cook?” you asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“I lived alone for years. What do you think I ate? Air?”

“Honestly? Wouldn’t be surprised.”

Keeho rolled his eyes but started gathering ingredients anyway. Soon, the kitchen was filled with the sizzling sound of eggs frying in a pan and the familiar comfort of easy conversation. For a moment, everything felt normal again.

Until Keeho suddenly turned to you and asked, “Hey, are you seeing anyone?”

You nearly dropped your glass of water.

Your brain short-circuited for a second before you managed to choke out, “W-what?”

Keeho shrugged, flipping the eggs like he hadn’t just sent your entire nervous system into overdrive. “I dunno. I was just thinking… I’ve been gone for a while. Maybe you met someone.”

Why was he asking this? Why now?

Your heart was pounding, but you forced yourself to play it cool. “No. Not seeing anyone.”

Keeho smirked. “Interesting.”

You frowned. “Why is that interesting?”

Keeho gave you a pointed look. “Because you’re awesome. Anyone would be lucky to date you.”

For a second, you forgot how to breathe. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. What were you even supposed to say to that?

Keeho seemed completely unaware of the chaos he had just unleashed inside your brain. He just went back to cooking like he hadn’t just casually thrown you into an emotional crisis.

You took a deep breath, trying desperately to regain your composure. It was just Keeho being Keeho. Playful, teasing, completely unaware of the fact that you had been hopelessly falling for him.

“Well,” you said, forcing a smirk, “what about you? You seeing anyone?”

Keeho paused. It was subtle, but you caught it. The tiniest hesitation. The smallest flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. Then, just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

“Nah,” he said easily, plating the eggs like the question meant nothing. “Too busy for that.”

Something about his tone didn’t sit right with you. Too busy? Sure, Keeho was busy, but that never stopped him from making time for you. From calling you at 3AM after a long day. From flying home whenever he had a break, even if it was just for a few days. If he really wanted to be with someone, he’d find a way. Right?

Before you could overthink it, Keeho slid a plate in front of you and grinned. “Eat up, loser.”

You rolled your eyes, but your mind was still stuck on that tiny pause. That unreadable look. And for the first time, you wondered - was Keeho really not seeing anyone? Or was he hiding something?

The two of you were laying on the couch, watching some random movie, when Keeho’s phone buzzed. At first, you didn’t pay attention. But then, he ignored the call.

No glance at the screen. No “I’ll call them later.” He just reached over and flipped his phone over, screen-down. Your eyebrows furrowed.

“Who was that?” you asked.

Keeho stretched his arms over his head and yawned. “No one important.”

Another buzz. A text this time. And again - Keeho ignored it. Your curiosity piqued.

Now, normally, you weren’t the nosy type. Normally, you respected privacy. But something about the way Keeho was deliberately ignoring his phone had your stomach twisting with suspicion.

So when Keeho got up to grab a drink from the kitchen, leaving his phone unattended, you glanced at the screen. Just one quick look. One tiny peek. But what you saw made your breath catch.

Unknown Number: Hey… I miss you.

Your heart stopped.

What. The. Hell.

Before you could process it, Keeho returned, plopping back onto the couch like nothing had happened.

“You want anything?” he asked, sipping his drink.

But you barely heard him. Because your brain was now screaming with questions. Who the hell was that? Why were they saying they missed him? Why did Keeho act like it was nothing?

You opened your mouth, about to say something - confront him, ask him, anything - but Keeho suddenly threw an arm over the back of the couch, stretching out lazily. And then, as if sensing the tension in your body, he smirked.

“Why do you look like you’re plotting my murder?”

You stiffened. “I do not.”

“You do.”

You forced a laugh, shaking your head. “You’re imagining things.”

Keeho raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

He was completely unaware of what you had just seen. And maybe it was the paranoia creeping in. Maybe it was the exhaustion of constantly pushing your feelings down.

But suddenly, for the first time since he came home, you didn’t feel like you knew Keeho as well as you thought. And that thought terrified you.

The breaking point came later that night.

Keeho had gone to the bathroom, and you were curled up on the couch, pretending to scroll through your phone. But your thoughts were elsewhere.

Who was texting him?

Why didn’t he answer?

Was he hiding something from you?

And before you could stop yourself, you found yourself reaching for Keeho’s phone. It was sitting on the coffee table, completely unlocked. He trusted you. And you weren’t the type to snoop.

But something deep inside you, something desperate, something insecure, something you didn’t want to name, was itching for answers. So, before you could second-guess yourself, you grabbed his phone and opened his messages.

Your heart pounded as you scrolled, searching for the unknown number. And then - you found it.

Unknown Number: Hey… I miss you.

Unknown Number: Keeho? Are you ignoring me?

Unknown Number: I know things got messy, but can we please just talk?

Messy?

Your breath caught in your throat. This wasn’t just some friend. Something happened between Keeho and this person. And he hadn’t told you.

Your fingers hovered over the screen, temptation gnawing at you. Do you click the number? Do you look through their conversation? But before you could decide-

“What are you doing?”

Your whole body froze.

Slowly, dread creeping up your spine, you turned around. Keeho was standing there, dripping wet from the shower, a towel slung around his neck.

His expression? Not amused. Not confused. Just… disappointed.

You opened your mouth, scrambling for an excuse, a joke, anything. But Keeho’s voice came low, serious.

“I trusted you.”

Your stomach dropped. For the first time in your life, you had nothing to say. And for the first time in your life, Keeho wasn’t smiling at you. Your breath caught in your throat. The air between you and Keeho was thick with tension, heavier than it had ever been before.

“I-” Your voice cracked, and you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. “Keeho, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

Keeho let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. “Didn’t mean to what? Go through my phone?”

Your stomach twisted. “I wasn’t- I just-”

“You just what?” His tone wasn’t angry, but it wasn’t Keeho’s usual teasing either. It was calm. Controlled. But that was almost worse.

You felt the urge to explain, to tell him that you weren’t trying to snoop, that you had just seen the text and couldn’t get it out of your head. But how were you supposed to say that without making it sound even worse?

Keeho exhaled, running a hand through his damp hair. “You know, I don’t think you realize how messed up this is.”

Your chest tightened. “I know. I know it was wrong. But Keeho- why are you acting like I just betrayed you?”

Keeho scoffed. “Because you did.”

You flinched.

He sighed, gripping the back of his neck like he was trying to stay calm. “Do you have any idea how many people already invade my privacy? How many people already think they’re entitled to know every little detail about my life?” His voice grew tighter, more frustrated. “I never thought you’d be one of them.”

Guilt clawed at your chest. “That’s not what this was-”

“Then what was it?” Keeho pressed. “You don’t trust me?”

Your heart pounded. “Of course I trust you.”

“Yeah?” Keeho let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Because it sure doesn’t feel like it.”

Your fingers curled into fists. “Keeho, I saw the text. Someone said they missed you, and you just ignored it. What was I supposed to think?”

“You were supposed to ask me, not sneak around behind my back!”

That made you snap.

“Oh, like you would’ve just told me the truth?” The words left your mouth before you could stop them.

Keeho’s expression shifted, something unreadable flickering through his eyes.

The silence that followed was loud.

He let out a slow breath, shaking his head. “You know what? Maybe I should just go.”

Your heart dropped.

“Wait- what?”

Keeho grabbed his hoodie from the couch, not looking at you. “I think it’s best if I head home now.”

Panic flared in your chest. “Keeho, don’t do that. Can we just-”

“I don’t want to fight with you,” he said, finally looking at you. But his eyes weren’t filled with the usual warmth. They were tired. Guarded. Distant.

And that hurt more than anything.

Your throat felt tight. “So what? You’re just gonna leave?”

Keeho hesitated, like maybe, just maybe, he was reconsidering.

But then, he exhaled sharply and turned away. “Yeah.”

And just like that, he was gone.

The door shut behind him, the sound echoing through the apartment. You stood there, frozen, staring at the empty space he had just left behind. And for the first time since Keeho came home, you weren’t sure if he was coming back.

One day.

It had only been one day since Keeho left your apartment, but it felt like an eternity.

His absence clung to every corner of the space. The empty spot on the couch where he had been sitting, the unfinished game of Mario Kart on the Switch, the faint scent of his cologne still lingering in the air.

And worst of all? The silence.

Keeho hadn’t called. He hadn’t texted. Nothing.

Which meant all you had left was your own mind, replaying the fight over and over again, twisting it around in every possible way, wondering if you had just ruined the most important relationship in your life.

Maybe it was best to just let him go. Maybe you had messed up too badly this time.

But suddenly your phone buzzed.

Your heart jumped into your throat as you scrambled to grab it, nearly dropping it in your rush. And there it was. A message from Keeho.

Keeho: Can we talk?

For a moment, all you could do was stare at the screen, heartbeat pounding. Then, without hesitating, you typed back:

You: Yeah. Come over.

Keeho arrived later that evening.

The second you opened the door, you searched his face, trying to read him. But his expression was… blank. Not cold. Not angry. Just carefully unreadable. That alone made your stomach twist.

You stepped aside, letting him in. Keeho walked past you into the apartment, heading toward the couch like he had done a hundred times before. Only this time, it wasn’t the same.

You quickly grabbed two glasses of water from the kitchen before sitting beside him, but not too close. There was still a strange weight in the air, a careful distance between you. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was unbearable.

Until finally, you broke it. “Keeho, I am so sorry for-”

“Stop.” Keeho’s voice was firm, cutting you off immediately.

You looked at him, confused.

His jaw tensed slightly before he exhaled and shook his head. “There’s nothing for you to apologize for.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Keeho-”

“Seriously.” He glanced down at his hands, voice quieter now. “If anything… I should be the one apologizing.”

You blinked. “What?”

Keeho let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair before finally meeting your eyes.

“There’s something I have to tell you.”

Your breath hitched.

“I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

Your pulse spiked.

Suddenly, the room felt too small, too quiet. The air crackled with tension, thick with something unspoken, something Keeho had been holding back. And as you looked at him, as you saw the hesitation, the conflict in his eyes, you realized - whatever Keeho was about to say, it was going to change everything.

And the question wasn’t whether you wanted to hear it. It was whether you were ready.

Keeho remained silent at first, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie. The air between you was thick, every second of silence dragging on painfully.

Your heart pounded as you whispered, “What is it, Keeho?”

He took a deep breath, as if gathering courage.

“When I asked you if you were seeing anyone…” Keeho started, hesitating before his eyes finally met yours. “I asked because… I am seeing someone.”

Your breath caught in your throat. A painful sting spread through your stomach, sharp and unexpected. Did Keeho just- Did he just confess that he has a girlfriend?

You forced yourself to stay still, composed, but the sudden weight in your chest made it hard to breathe.

Still, all you could manage to say was, “What- what do you mean?”

Keeho sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I thought that maybe if you were seeing someone, I wouldn’t have to feel so bad for not telling you about this earlier.”

He looked down, ashamed.

“But I was wrong… I feel guilty. I feel like I betrayed you because I was lying to you.”

Even though jealousy gnawed at your insides, you tried to pull yourself together.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and said, “You didn’t lie to me, Keeho. You just kept it a secret, and that’s totally reasonable. Not every single detail of your life is my business.”

Keeho’s head snapped up, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your pulse race. “But you’re my best friend… and there shouldn’t be anything that makes me feel the need to not tell you.”

You forced a fake, shaky. “It’s okay, Keeho.”

Keeho searched your face for something, maybe reassurance, maybe understanding, but his expression only tightened. “But it’s not what you think.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Keeho hesitated again, like he was searching for the right words. Then, his voice dropped lower. “I think I didn’t tell you because I was scared of how you would react to it. Of how it would change things between us.”

Your stomach twisted.

“What are you saying?” you murmured. “Keeho, if you’re happy, I’m happy.”

Keeho shook his head.

“But I’m not happy.”

Your heart skipped.

“I tried- I really tried to open up to her,” Keeho admitted, voice strained. “But I failed. I didn’t want to hurt her, but…” His fingers clenched into fists. “I figured that there’s already someone else my heart belongs to.”

Your lips parted in shock.

Someone else.

Someone else.

What… What did he mean?

Was there another person, someone he hadn’t told you about? Your mind raced, trying to make sense of his words.

Your mouth felt dry as you whispered, “Who…?”

Keeho looked at you, his gaze unreadable.

And suddenly, everything felt like it was hanging on his next words.

Keeho’s eyes darted down to his hands, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie as he struggled to find the right words. His hesitation made your stomach twist. He was nervous. But why?

“I’m not sure how things will change after this,” Keeho admitted with a sigh.

Your nails dug into your thighs nervously. Your heart pounded against your ribs, fear creeping up your spine. You were scared of his answer. Scared of hearing something that would break you into pieces.

But when he finally spoke, his words shattered you in an entirely different way.

“It’s you.”

Your breath hitched. Your lips parted, but no words came out. Did you hear him right? You stared at Keeho, eyes wide in shock.

He gave you a small, nervous smile, but his fingers were clenched together like he was holding his breath, waiting, terrified of your reaction.

“Please say something,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “Or else this is super awkward for me.”

Your mind was still spinning.

“Keeho… I- I don’t know what to say.”

Keeho let out a short, nervous laugh. “Just say something. Anything. Even if you’re gonna break my heart, I won’t be mad at you.”

You quickly shook your head. “No, Keeho. I just- I had no idea you were feeling this way.”

Keeho exhaled sharply, his lips curling into a self-deprecating smile. “Well, that’s because I never told you.”

You could feel the weight of his words hanging in the air. This wasn’t a joke. This wasn’t Keeho teasing you like he always did. This was real. Keeho was serious.

And you needed to say something - anything - to make him understand that you felt the same way. But before you could even form the words, Keeho rubbed the back of his neck, looking away.

“Well… this is embarrassing,” he muttered. “Maybe I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.”

“No!” The word burst out of you before you could stop it.

Without thinking, you reached out and placed a hand on his thigh, your grip firm, desperate. Keeho’s eyes widened, completely taken aback by your sudden reaction.

Your voice softened as you mumbled, “It’s not embarrassing.”

Keeho stared at you, his lips parting slightly, stunned. You took a deep breath, gathering your courage.

“Keeho, I…” You hesitated, then pushed through. “I’ve been feeling the same way.”

Keeho’s body tensed.

You could feel your face heating up, but you didn’t stop.

“I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t even know if I should tell you-” You swallowed hard. “Because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

Keeho blinked at you, his expression unreadable.

The silence was heavy, deafening.

Then, after what felt like forever, Keeho let out a breathless laugh. “Are you serious?”

You gave him a small, nervous nod.

Keeho exhaled, running a hand down his face. “Holy shit.”

You bit your lip. “Yeah. Holy shit.”

Keeho stared at you for a moment longer, like he was trying to process everything.

And then, suddenly, Keeho grinned.

A real, genuine, Keeho-style grin.

“You’re telling me we’ve both been idiots this whole time?”

A laugh escaped your lips, relieved, overwhelmed, completely breathless. “Yeah. I guess we have.”

Keeho shook his head in disbelief before grinning like an idiot. “I can’t believe you kept it a secret that you’re in love with me.”

You hissed, narrowing your eyes. “Who says I’m in love? It’s just a little, tiny crush.”

Keeho let out a deep chuckle, running a hand through his hair playfully. “Oh, come on. Stop lying. I know it’s hard not to fall in love with someone like me.”

You rolled your eyes. “I can’t even believe I like someone as cocky as you.”

Keeho raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”

Before you could react, Keeho lunged forward and started tickling you.

“K-Keeho!” you shrieked, laughing so hard you could barely breathe.

“Admit it!” Keeho said between teasing attacks.

“N-No! Stop!” you gasped, thrashing against him, but he didn’t let up.

You kicked, you squirmed, tears forming at the corners of your eyes from laughing so hard.

“Keeho, please!” you screamed.

But he didn’t stop. Instead, in the middle of his merciless assault, Keeho lost his balance and suddenly he slipped and fell on top of you.

The room went completely silent.

Your breath hitched as you froze beneath him. Keeho’s hands were on either side of your head, his body hovering over yours, his face only inches away. You could feel the warmth of his breath, the weight of his presence pressing against you.

Your stomach flipped.

Keeho had never been this close before.

You could see every detail - the way his dark eyes flickered with something unreadable, the way his lips were just slightly parted, the way his chest rose and fell a little faster than usual.

“Hey…” Keeho murmured.

Just one word.

Soft. Barely a whisper.

Your lips parted, breath catching in your throat. “What-”

But before you managed to finish your sentence, Keeho leaned in. And then, his lips intertwined with yours.

Your eyes widened in shock.

For a split second, your brain refused to believe this was real.

Was this happening?

Was Keeho really kissing you?

But you quickly realized that this time, it wasn’t a dream. This time, it was real. A million butterflies erupted in your stomach, your whole body tingling at the feeling of Keeho’s lips against yours.

Soft. Warm. Perfect.

And suddenly - you weren’t thinking anymore.

You let yourself melt into the kiss.

Your body relaxed, your hands gripping the fabric of his hoodie, pulling him in just the slightest bit closer.

Keeho responded immediately, tilting his head, deepened the kiss, one of his hands moving to gently cup your cheek. It was slow, sweet, teasing. Just like him.

Your heart felt like it was about to explode.

Every suppressed feeling, every stolen glance, every unspoken word between you - all of it was pouring into this moment.

When Keeho finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath shaky. For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, he let out a soft chuckle.

“You okay down there?” he teased, like he hadn’t just turned your entire world upside down.

“No, I am not okay.” You buried your face in your hands. “You can’t just kiss me out of nowhere and then act all casual about it!”

Keeho chuckled. “Would you rather I have given you a warning?”

You glared at him. “Yes!”

“Alright,” Keeho grinned. Then, he suddenly cupped your face with his hand, leaning in way too close again.

“Hey,” he whispered.

Your breath hitched. “W-What?”

“I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Your brain malfunctioned.

And then, before you could even process what was happening - Keeho kissed you again.

This time, it was shorter, but just as dizzying.

And when he pulled away, he was grinning even wider.

“There. Warning included.”

Your soul left your body.

“Keeho, I swear to God-!”

Keeho cackled, dodging the pillow you threw at him.

“Told you,” he murmured.

You blinked up at him, breathless. “Told me what?”

“That you were in love with me.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Shut up, Keeho.”

He just laughed, stealing another quick kiss before finally letting you breathe again.

And in that moment - you realized.

This wasn’t just a crush anymore.

It was so much more.

And it always had been.

The room was still charged with electricity from the kiss, the warmth of Keeho’s lips lingering on yours. Neither of you had moved. Neither of you had spoken. But the question hung in the air between you, heavy and impossible to ignore.

“So… what happens now?” you finally asked, your voice softer than you expected.

Keeho exhaled, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back against the couch, deep in thought.

“I guess that depends on us,” he murmured.

Your stomach twisted. “Us.” That word felt so foreign - so new.

Keeho looked over at you, studying your expression carefully. “You’re overthinking, aren’t you?”

You bit your lip. “It’s just… you’re leaving soon. You’re going back to Korea, back to your crazy schedule, back to a life where we barely see each other.”

Keeho was quiet for a moment before he shifted closer, reaching for your hand. His fingers curled around yours, warm and familiar.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said simply.

You let out a breath. “How can you be so sure?”

Keeho squeezed your hand gently. “Because it’s us.”

Your heart fluttered.

“Yeah, but long-distance relationships are hard. You’ll be busy, traveling, constantly surrounded by people. What if-”

Keeho cut you off. “What if we make it work?”

You blinked at him.

“What if we don’t let the distance change anything?” he continued, his voice steady. “I know it won’t be easy, but I don’t want to pretend this didn’t happen. I don’t want to go back to how things were before.”

Your chest tightened. “Neither do I.”

Keeho smiled, his thumb grazing over your knuckles. “Then we’ll find a way.”

You stared at him, searching for any hesitation, any doubt. But Keeho looked at you like this was the easiest decision in the world.

Like he had already chosen you.

You let out a shaky laugh. “I still can’t believe this is happening.”

Keeho smirked. “If you need another kiss to remind you, I’m happy to help.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile didn’t fade. Maybe this wouldn’t be easy. Maybe there were challenges ahead. But right now, sitting here with Keeho, his fingers laced with yours -

You were willing to try.

───── ♡ ─────

© sweetmisery - please do not repost my works! ♡

[guywhowatches]

An Office Interview (Part 2)

You stood there, staring at the door, hearing a mumble chattering that you were unable to make out properly. It sounded like a lot of talking and even laughter, which made you feel nervous for some reason. You could still smell the stink of Mr Richards previous blasts clogging up your nose, and it was only making you feel worse. You were genuinely starting to wonder if this should be your cue to try and leave. However, as you were starting to properly think about this, the door handle turned and the door swung open.

As it did so, you were hit with another wave of stink, which reeked of eggs and rotten vegetables. You did your best to stifle a cough, as difficult as that was. What on earth was that smell, and why was it coming from inside the office? As you slowly tried to recover, you looked up to see Mr Richards smiling at you.

"If you're ready to come inside, we'll give you the interview." The way he was smiling at you made you feel uneasy. But yet again, you felt too worried to say no to him for some reason. So, you nodded and walked inside, trying to hold your breath hoping the stink would dissipate. You couldn't understand how the others guys in here weren't suffering like you.

As soon as you stepped inside, you heard the door slam behind you and it truly felt like there was no going back now. Ahead were the same 2 guys you saw from earlier looking at you. They were both also around the same size as Mr Richards. Was every guy here just a large muscle bound beefcake? It made you feel a little small in comparison.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you." Said the one on the right, as he walked over to you to shake your hand. As he came over to you, you got a good glance at him now being in full view. Your eyes then widened as you noticed that he also had quite a large behind, similar to Mr Richards that was barley contained by his suit pants. He also had a stubbly beard along with slick brown hair. He then grabbed your hand and forcefully shook it whilst eyeing you up and down.

"I'm Mr Brown, and I think you're just what we need right now." He said, still smiling. You gulped a little. Was that a good thing or not? You couldn't tell. He then turned around and walked back to the desk, giving you a full view of his large bubble butt jiggling with each step.

As you were almost fixated on this, you didn't even realise that the other man was now standing next to you with his hand outstretched. He also wore a nice suit and had a tangle of blonde hair. You quickly reacted, shaking it back. His grip was a lot softer than Mr Browns.

"Lovely to meet you, I'm Mr Rodgers. Between you and me, I'm hoping to get you to myself the most." He said with a cheeky grin, before turning back around, giving you a view of his own large butt. You weren't sure of how to feel about that.

"Right then, if you're ready then we can begin." Mr Richards stated, leaning against the desk with a serious look. The other men stood beside him, Mr Brown with focusing on you and scratching his chin whilst Mr Rodgers was smiling and looking as though he was trying to contain laughter. It was all very curious. But you quickly tried to become formal as possible.

"Yes, so can we start with what my role is here. I'm unsure of what it is I'm doing, so I want to discuss-" But I was suddenly cut off by a rumbly, bassy noise.

PPPPPPPPPPPPAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRPPPPPP

It rang out for a good few seconds before dying down. I looked up a little shocked. I looked around the room, to see all 3 of the men looking as though they were trying to hide a smirk. Mr Rodgers was doing it the worst, as he was covering his mouth with his hand.

"Oops, excuse me. The eggy salad I had for lunch doesn't seem to be sitting well with my stomach." Said Mr Brown, in a tone that didn't sound all that sorry. This noise disgusted you and you were about to question, what the meaning of this was, when you were cut off again.

PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAPPPPPPPPT

"Ooh, seems like it's really going right through me." Mr Brown said, now smirking and wafting his hand behind his bottom. You couldn't believe this was happening, especially whilst the others still appeared to be smirking at this. What kind of behaviour was this.

Then, the eggy stench from Mr Brown's backside blast began to creep into your nostrils and it was particularly bad. It was a bit too much for you to handle. You let out a cough and tried to subtly waft your hand in front your face to disperse the smell, with little to no avail. As you looked up, you saw that the others were still somehow unaffected by this. You desperately wanted to get this back on track.

"Yes- *cough* well... can we get back to the meeting please?" You desperately pleaded.

"Oh yes, of course." Said Mr Richards rolling his eyes. What was he annoyed about? "You see, we've bought you here because-"

FFARRRTT

A short but powerful fart blasted out his butt, interrupting him. "Oops, there she goes." He said with a smile on his face, leaning against the desk, sticking his bum out and straining a little.

PRAAAAAAAAAAAAAPT FFRRRRRTT RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPTTT

Three short, but powerful farts rang out across the room. You stared in almost horror as he shamelessly continued to fart loudly in what was supposed to be a serious meeting. He then let out a sigh of relief before standing back up again.

The scent from it was now mixing with Mr Brown's gas and it was making your nose hairs burn. You weren't sure you could even open your mouth without you feeling like you could taste it.

FRAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPTTT

You looked over at Mr Richards, expecting him to be the cause of the noise again. However, you noticed that he was looking Mr Rodgers now, who had a big grin on his face.

"Oh, looks like I have fart to. Hey look..." He said excitedly. "I'm shaking my booty." He then let out a grunt whilst shaking his wide hips from side to side.

FRAAAAAAAAARP FFRRRRRTT RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAPPPPTTT PRRRRRRRRRRRAPP

As he shook his bottom, the farts bellowed across the room. It was starting to become too much for you. You began to choke as you felt yourself slumping on the floor, your brain unable to focus properly from the lack of clean oxygen. As the stench overwhelmed you, you looked up to see all 3 of the men looming over you, now grinning somewhat meanly.

"You may as well know what you're job is now." Mr Richards said, still smiling down on you. "You see, around here, we're all pretty gassy and sometimes the stench can become quite overwhelming. Here, have a smell." Then, to your terror, he proceeded to cup his hand over his backside, and let a hollow fart onto it, before bringing it over to your face. The stink was unbearable and the smell of cabbages accompanied it, making your eyes water. Mr Richards just chuckled meanly at your reaction. "You see, or rather smell?" He chuckled again at his own 'joke'.

"It's not the worst thing ever, but it does get pretty inconvenient when we're all together trying to have a meeting, especially on Taco Tuesday." Said Mr Brown, also smiling. "So, we need someone who's able to sniff our farts for us, so that we don't have to get distracted by them. A fart cushion if you will." You felt your heart skip a beat. Surely they couldn't be serious?

"Yeah, and you've stayed awake longer than the other testers." Said Mr Rodgers excitedly. Is that really all you were to them, a test subject? "Hey guys, I still have some farts left. Shall we really put him to the test?" You silently begged for them to say no, as you felt like you were going to be sick. Sadly, this was not the case as they all turned around and pointed their large bubble butts at you. Worse still, you saw them all began to pull down their suit pants, exposing their white underwear at you. Even worser was the fact that each of their boxers had a brown streak stain on them in the centre. This was too much for you.

"Ready guys? 3"

"2"

"1"

There was then a chorus of grunts from the men, followed by a symphony of flatulence.

PPPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPTTTTTTT

BBBBBBRRRRRRRAAAAAAAPPPPPP

FFFFFFFFFFRAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTT

BBBBBBUUURRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTT

PPPPPPPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRTTTTT

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUPPPPPPRRRRTTTTT

PPPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPTTTTTTT

BBBBBBRRRRRRRAAAAAAAPPPPPP

FFFFFFFFFFRAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTT

BBBBBBUUURRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTTTT

It was all too overstimulating for you. The sounds, the smell, even the taunting laughter coming from the men. You couldn't do it. The smell of a burning dumpster, combined with sewage, eggs and cabbage filled the room. How were none of them effected by this, when you felt like you would pass out at any second?

Finally, after 2 whole minutes of this, the rumbling bassyness finally died down and you were laid upon the floor. Somehow you were still conscious, though you really wished you weren't. The three of them just stood over you, looking satisfied.

"Well, he lasted pretty long, I'd say he's got the job." Said Mr Richards smiling, causing the other 2 to nod in approval. Oh no, you thought to yourself. No, you couldn't have, you wouldn't. You would be out of here as soon as you were conscious enough, you had to. This truly felt like hell, and you wanted no part of it.

"Phew, well, after all that gas expelled, I think I need to take a dump." Said Mr Brown, patting his slim belly.

"Oh yes, absolutely." Said Mr Richards smiling back at him.

"Me three. You guys up for a game of battleshits?" Asked Mr Rodgers almost excitedly. You really didn't want to know whatever that was.

"Why not? I know I'll win anyway." Said Mr Brown smugly as he walked out the room.

"Maybe, but it'll still be fun to play." Mr Rodgers exclaimed excitedly. Before leaving, he then turned over to you, still lying on the ground. "Oh, I sure hope I get to use you soon. It's four-bean chilli for lunch tomorrow and that always gives me a fierce case of bubble guts." He said giggling, before heading after Mr Brown. There was only Mr Richards left, who turned down to look at you, still smiling meanly.

"I think you'll make a great addition to the business. See you in a bit." He then turned around, and squatted his ass right in front of your face, giving you one last shot at his magnificent bubble butt, before blasting off.

FFFFFFFFFFRAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPTTTTTT

The sound rang through your ears and the stench instantly hit you. It was the final straw before you passed out. The last thing you saw was Mr Richards walking out the office, slamming the door behind him. You were petrified to think of what they would do to you when you woke up again.

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Hope you guys enjoy :)