#React navigation performance

[starbuck]

the best thing is when you’ve watched a film enough times that you get to know it and it feels cozy. you turn it on and it’s like “i live here :)”

[pucksandpower]

hiii! with the chaos that was today’s career, could I request one with driver reader that she started telling her team that she wasn’t feeling good but still wanted to continue but the next moment she isn’t answering her radio because she fainted in the car and the car goes out, the marshals take her out of the car and she doesn’t wake up, maybe she has extreme dehydration and is hot to touch, etc.

How the other drivers react when they found out, her team, etc.

Thank you

Too Hot To Handle

Max Verstappen x Red Bull driver!Reader

Summary: the Qatar Grand Prix pushed every driver to the limit … and some past the limit

Warnings: heat stroke, dehydration, crash, medical conditions

The Lusail International Circuit hums with electric anticipation, its asphalt ribbon shimmering under the floodlights. The roar of the crowd fills the night but the oppressive heat weighs on everyone, creating a contrasting atmosphere of excitement and cautious apprehension.

Standing alongside your Red Bull Racing car, you wipe a bead of sweat from your brow. In only your first year with the reigning double champions, you already have a record that has quickly become the talk of the paddock. But for all the praise and whispers, there is one voice that stands out.

“Remember, liefje, it’s not just about speed tonight. Keep hydrated, alright?” Max’s voice is full of warmth and concern. His hand rests gently on your arm.

You flash him a confident smile even though you’re battling your nerves internally. “I’ve raced in heat before, Maxie. I won in Singapore. I’ll be fine.”

He pulls you into a quick embrace, the temperature doing little to dampen the spark between you. “It’s different here. This heat ... it’s like nothing I’ve ever raced in before.”

Pulling back, you raise an eyebrow teasingly. “You worried about me, Verstappen?”

He laughs but there’s a hint of steely seriousness in his blue eyes. “Always. Just ... promise me you’ll be careful out there. For both our sakes.”

You nod, touching your helmet to his. “Promise.”

The intercom in your ear crackles to life. “Drivers, to your cars!”

You both exchange a final glance. Racing is in your blood, it’s what brought you together, but it also keeps you apart, if only for the few hours you’re no longer partners in life but competitors on track.

Sliding into your car, you secure your helmet and gloves. The world outside becomes a bit muffled but your focus sharpens. The engine’s purr is a familiar comfort, but tonight, it’s edged with the unease Max’s words left behind.

Your race engineer, Hugh Bird, checks in over the radio, “Everything good, Y/N?”

You take a deep breath, “As good as it’ll ever be. Let’s light up this track.”

“Give them a show.”

Lights out and away we go.

***

The Qatar Grand Prix unfolds with its usual mix of intensity and skill, drivers navigating tight turns and overtaking with precision. But beneath the spectacle, a subtle tension mounts. The oppressive heat, the stark floodlights, and the weight of expectation — all of it seems to be building to something.

In the garage and on the pit wall, your team closely monitors the race and your performance. Hugh occasionally chimes in with updates, “You’re doing great, Y/N. Remember to hydrate whenever you need to.”

You nod even though he can’t see it, “Understood. The heat’s something else in here.”

A pause. Then, “Just keep stead. And Max told GP to tell me to tell you to remember what he said.”

A smile touches your lips, “I always do.”

***

The track is a blur as you push your car to its limits, feeling the adrenaline surge in tandem with the roar of the engines. It’s as if the heat has seeped into your very core, burning with intensity. Each lap feels slightly longer, every turn a tad sharper, as the humid air takes its toll.

“Y/N,” Hugh radioes through, sounding distant and slightly distorted by the pounding in your head, “you’re P2. Great pace. Remember to sip some water.”

A trickle of sweat runs down the side of your face, stinging your eye. Blinking rapidly, you reach for the button that activates your hydration system.

“Got it,” your voice sounds foreign even to your own ears. The water is lukewarm and tastes metallic, not as refreshing as you had hoped.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” he urges.

With every lap, the world outside your visor seems to grow brighter, the floodlights shimmering like mirages in a desert. The race has become a battle, not just against other drivers but against the environment and, increasingly, against yourself.

“You’re dropping pace. Is everything alright?” Hugh’s concerned voice crackles through.

A knot tightens in your stomach. “I don’t know. I ...” You trail off, the words catching in your throat as a wave of overwhelming dizziness hits.

You can hear the alarm in your engineer’s voice becoming more pronounced. “Y/N, talk to me. Do we need to pit?”

The heat wraps around you, constricting, making it difficult to breathe. Your hands, slick with sweat, struggle to grip the wheel even through your gloves. “Guys ... I don’t ... feel ...” The world spins and your words falters.

“Y/N? Y/N, talk to me!”

But before you can respond, before you can even finish your sentence, the world tilts and blurs into an incomprehensible whirlwind. The sweltering heat, the relentless pursuit of victory, and the weight of expectation converge into a maelstrom that engulfs you entirely.

Your hands, once deftly steering the RB19, now hang limply by your sides. The car veers off the track, careening towards the barriers. Panic rises in you but it’s too late. Your body refuses to act.

The deafening sound of metal against metal fills your ears, followed by the nauseating sensation of impact. The world outside your cockpit twists and spins, a kaleidoscope of colors and chaos. Then, abruptly, it all goes dark.

In the garage, your team watches in horror as the monitors show the violent crash. The radio falls silent, the connection severed. In that heartbeat, the world goes eerily quiet, punctuated only by the distant echoes of screeching tires and the blaring alarms.

Moments pass like hours and finally the static on the radio clears, replaced by your frantic race engineer, “—please respond. Y/N? Are you okay?”

But there’s no response. Your world remains shrouded in darkness as the circuit comes to a standstill, gripped by an eerie silence that drowns out even the most deafening of cheers.

The track is plunged into chaos. Red flags wave fervently, signaling danger. Marshals rush towards your wrecked car, their fluorescent jackets contrasting brightly against the night.

“Get her out! Get her out!” One of the marshals shouts as they reach your car. Your limp form is carefully extracted and they begin immediate first aid. The severity of the situation is clear — the heat, the dehydration, it’s all taken its toll.

The crowd watches, a collective gasp filling the air soon replaced by a thick, heavy silence. As your unconscious form is stretchered away, the weight of all those warnings crashes down.

Back on the pit wall, four words whispered into the radio are the first of many about to turn your boyfriend’s world upside down.

“Safety car, safety car.”

***

“Max, we’re pitting this lap. Box, box,” the calm, steady voice of Gianpiero Lambiase, Max’s race engineer, instructs over the radio.

Max’s voice is curt, his mind still on the race. “Why? Tires feel fine.”

“Non-negotiable. Safety car is out. We need you to pit now.”

The urgency in GP’s voice is not lost on Max and he immediately senses that something is wrong. “What happened? Why is there a safety car?”

Silence follows for a heartbeat too long. “There was an incident. Just focus on your race.”

An icy dread seeps into Max’s bones. The circuit is massive yet his world feels terribly small at this moment. “Who was it? Who crashed?”

His engineer hesitates, and in that pause, the weight of a thousand possibilities presses on Max.

“Who. Was. It?”

GP wavers, “It’s … Y/N.”

Max’s breathing becomes ragged. Panic and fear flood his system. “Why the hell wasn’t I told immediately?”

“It was team orders. The decision was made to keep you focused on the race.”

Max laughs but it lacks any humor. “Team orders? You’re saying Christian decided not to tell me that Y/N ... my Y/N is hurt?”

“Yes,” the reply is uncharacteristically soft, “It was believed to be in everyone’s best interest for you to be fully focused on the race.”

Max has never felt such white-hot rage. He spits into the radio, seething with fury and pain. “You tell Christian that if he ever makes a decision like that again about someone I love, I’ll cut his balls off with a rusty spoon.”

“Max, I understand you’re upset. But right now, we need you to stay focused.”

Stay focused? When the love of his life is in potential danger? The weight of what that means presses down, threatening to crush him. “I need to see her,” he finally rasps out, voice breaking.

The plea hangs in the air, met by another long silence. Finally, the radio clicks on again, softer than ever. “Y/N would want you to finish. You know that. Win this for her.”

Tears blur Max’s vision, mixing with the sweat already pooling in his helmet, but he nods, a silent assent. The roaring engine now sounds distant, the glinting lights a backdrop to the storm that rages within him. Every second is an eternity, every turn a test of his resolve to keep racing. But Max drives on, pushing his limits for you.

Every fiber of his being silently screams your name, a prayer or a promise or both, Max doesn’t know. All he knows is that the faster he crosses the finish line, the sooner he can be with you.

For the world watching, the race continues, cars whizzing by. But for Max Verstappen, each lap, each second, is a race against his own heart, torn between duty and desperate love.

***

“Her pulse is erratic! Get the defibrillator ready!” A medic shouts as the emergency team frantically works around you, the ambulance parked haphazardly nearby.

Another voice, calmer but filled with urgency, counters, “Wait, give her a moment. She might come around.”

“Come on, Y/N,” A young medic mutters, pressing an oxygen mask to your face. “Don’t do this.”

The ambulance door opens again, the head medic speaking into a radio, “We need an airlift, now. The situation’s deteriorating rapidly.”

Another voice, muffled, replies, “The helicopter’s on its way! Clear the area.”

As the medics continue to administer aid, working desperately to stabilize you, the chief medic tries to maintain order, “Every second counts. This heat stroke is severe, coupled with dehydration ... it’s a nightmare scenario.”

“We should have had more cooling stations,” the younger medic mutters. “The humidity coupled with the heat ... it’s brutal tonight. And we’re not even the ones out there driving.”

The older medic takes a deep breath. “That is on the organizations. We can’t fix there mistakes but we can focus on what happening now and do everything we can to get her through this.”

The thrum of helicopter blades soon overwhelms the noise of the circuit, growing louder as it approaches. Soon, the bright light from its landing spotlight punctuates the night. “The helicopter’s here!” Someone shouts.

“Alright, team, on three,” the chief medic commands. They work in perfect sync, lifting you carefully but quickly, your body still unresponsive.

As they approach the helicopter, the pilot shouts over the roar, “We’ve got the best onboard. She’s in good hands.”

“She’s one of our best,” the younger medic shouts back. “She has to be okay.”

The chief medic, securing you inside, murmurs more to himself than anyone else, “Come on, Y/N. The race isn’t over. Keep fighting.”

***

“You expect me to smile and stand on that podium knowing she’s been airlifted to a hospital?” Max’s voice trembles with rage as he confronts the FIA officials blocking his way.

“Mr. Verstappen, there are rules, procedures,” an official replies stiffly.

“Rules? Y/N might be fighting for her life right now and you want to talk to me about rules?” Max’s hands clench and unclench as he physically holds himself back from throwing a punch.

Another official steps forward, trying to mediate, “Max, we understand your feelings but millions of viewers are watching. The podium is an essential part of the race.”

Max’s eyes flash with anger. “You think I care about a trophy when my girlfriend is in a hospital? Do you really think that piece of metal means anything to me right now?”

“We sympathize— ” the first official begins but is cut off by Max’s heated response.

“You sympathize? Do you even know what that word means?” He’s on the verge of breaking, voice barely above a whisper as he continues, “She is everything to me. Everything. And you want me to smile and wave for the cameras?”

The air grows thick with tension. The two drivers from McLaren waiting for their cue to go to the podium are silent, their eyes darting between Max and the officials.

A new voice interjects , “Let him go.”

It’s Lewis Hamilton, who despite DNFing early in the race, made his way across the paddock after seeing the distress on his rival’s face. “There are things more important than a ceremony.”

The officials exchange glances, clearly not expecting this intervention. But before they can reply, Max levels them with a final scathing look. “Fine me if you must! Penalize me! Suspend me for all I care! But I am going to her.”

And off he goes.

***

A nurse at the desk recognizes Max immediately when he runs into the hospital. “Mr. Verstappen,” she begins hesitantly, “Miss Y/L/N is in the ICU. Room 302.”

He doesn’t need any further prompting to sprint down the hall. Reaching the room, he stops dead in his tracks. You’re there, surrounded by machines that beep and whirr, tubes running to and from you, an oxygen mask on your face. The sight of you, once so full of life, now frail and vulnerable, breaks him.

His voice, when he finally managed to finds it, is a choked whisper, “Y/N ...”

Approaching the bedside, Max gently takes your hand, feeling its clamminess. “Hey, liefje ... it’s me,” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles. His tears fall freely, wetting the back of your hand.

“Come on, love,” his voice cracks as he continues, “You’ve got to pull through this. For us.”

He brushes a strand of hair from your face, tracing the familiar curves and lines he’s come to adore. “Remember that time in Monaco? When we snuck out for that secret dinner that our trainers would have killed us for? We promised each other forever that night. You can’t leave me now. Not when we’ve got so many more memories left to make.”

The room’s silence is punctuated only by the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor in a cruel reminder of the fragility of the moment.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs. “Please ... please come back to me.”

Leaning in, he rests his forehead against yours, allowing the weight of his anguish, love, and hope to flow between the two of you in the sterile room.

***

Nothing has changed. The steady beep of the heart monitor still punctuates the silence of the hospital room. Max sits vigilantly at your bedside, his hand gently clasping yours.

It’s been three days since the crash and you still have not woken up. The doctors say your condition is stable but uncertain.

Max leans in close and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Morning, liefje. I’m still here. Not going anywhere.”

He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch impossibly gentle as if you might break. In the stark hospital lighting, the dark circles under his eyes are visible. Sleep hasn’t come easy to him, not with you lying here.

A soft knock at the door draws Max’s attention. Hugh pokes his head in hesitantly. “Hey, Max. Any change?”

Max shakes his head, swallowing hard. “Nothing yet. But she’s fighting. I know she is.”

Your race engineer steps further into the room, his expression solemn. “I should have seen the signs earlier. Pushed her to hydrate more. Slowed her pace.” His voice catches, “It was my job to look out for her.”

“This wasn’t your fault,” Max says firmly. “Y/N is stubborn. We both know that. She wanted to prove herself.” A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “It’s what makes her brilliant.”

Hugh pulls up a chair on the opposite side of the bed. For a moment, the two men sit in pensive silence. Then your race engineer speaks again, softer this time. “Has she ... has she responded at all? Squeezed your hand or anything?”

Max clenches his jaw and stares past Hugh at the blank wall. “No. Nothing yet. But I know she can hear me. I tell her about training, the team ... I update her on everything. She’ll want to jump right back in when she wakes up.”

Footsteps approach and a nurse enters, checking the equipment and your vitals. After making some notes on a chart, she offers an encouraging smile. “No change but she seems stable. Just keep talking to her. Familiar voices help.”

After she departs, Hugh leans forward, clasping your still hand. “Hear that, Y/N? You’ve got to wake up. The team needs you. Your fans are all rooting for you. And ...” His voice cracks. “I need my driver back.”

Max looks at him gratefully. “We all need her back.” Reaching out, he gives your race engineer’s shoulder a comforting squeeze.

Another knock sounds. This time, it’s Christian. His face is etched with guilt and worry. “Max. Any improvement today?”

Max’s expression hardens. He hasn’t forgotten Christian’s decision to withhold news of your crash. But his voice remains even as he responds to the team principal. “Nothing new.”

Christian pulls up a chair next to Hugh. He chooses his next words carefully. “Max, I need to apologize. I made the wrong call that night. You deserved to know immediately about Y/N. My priorities were skewed.” His voice shakes slightly. “Seeing her like this ... I would give anything to go back and change what I did.”

Max studies him for a long moment and some of the hardness leaves his eyes. “I appreciate that. But right now, the past doesn’t matter. All that matters is her getting better.”

Christian nods. Reaching out, he gently smoothes your hair. “You hear that, Y/N? We’re all here for you. Your whole team. Now you need to come back to us.”

A heavy silence settles on the room once more. The three of them remain clustered around the bed … keeping vigil … willing you to show any small sign of recovery.

After some time passes, the ringing of Hugh’s phone snaps the three men out of their thoughts. “Sorry to interrupt,” your press officer’s voice filters through the speaker, “but the team’s on the line. They want to send their well wishes to Y/N.”

Hugh glances at Max questioningly who nods, “Patch them through. Let the whole team remind her why she needs to wake up.”

A smile tugs at your race engineer’s lips. “You got it. Go ahead, team. She can hear you.”

A chorus of voices floods the room. Your mechanics, pit crew, strategists, PR team … everyone chimes in with encouraging messages.

“Come on, Y/N! We need our star girl back on the grid.”

“You can do this, kid. You’re the toughest one out there!”

“We all believe in you. Keep fighting!”

Max grips your hand tighter, emotions threatening to spill over. Even Christian and Hugh have sheens of tears in their eyes.

“Alright,” your race engineer says after the team signs off. “You heard them. Time to wake up.”

And that’s when Max feels it. A short, weak squeeze of his hand.

Then your eyelids begin to flutter.

“Y/N?” Max leaps to his feet, leaning over you anxiously. “Can you hear me?”

Slowly, painfully, your eyes open, taking in the scene around you. Confusion clouds your expression. “M-Max?” You rasp.

A brilliant smile breaks across Max’s face. Relief floods through him so powerful that his knees nearly buckle as he chokes out, “Yes, yes it’s me! You’re back, liefje. You’re really back.”

Hugh lets out a shaky laugh, scrubbing a hand across his face. “Welcome back, superstar.”

You try to speak again but Max hushes you gently. “Save your strength. We’ve got all the time in the world to talk.”

Christian grins, looking years younger. “Oh thank god. I need to tell the team. They’ll be thrilled. Welcome back, Y/N.” He hurries from the room, phone already in hand.

Your race engineer squeezes your shoulder. “Get some rest. We’ll all be here when you wake up.”

As he and the nurse move discreetly out of the room, you gaze up at Max. “You ... you stayed.”

Max lifts your hand to his lips, blinking back tears. “Of course I stayed. I’ll always stay by your side.”

He leans down, pressing his lips against your chapped ones. All the fear, the uncertainty, the heartache of the past few days melts away.

You’re back. You’re really back. And Max knows, without a shred of doubt, that your lives from this day on will be greater and more meaningful than all your wildest dreams.

***

In the following days, drivers from across the grid make the pilgrimage to your hospital room. They come bearing gifts — flowers, balloons, even a nearly life-size plush race car. But more importantly, they come bearing a message.

“That race should never have happened,” Lewis says solemnly, handing you a get-well card covered in signatures. “The heat was dangerous. We should have acted sooner.”

Esteban grips your hand tightly. “I’m sorry, Y/N. We should have spoken up about the conditions sooner. We all suffered but you suffered most.”

“Your crash woke us all up,” Lance adds. “No trophy is worth risking drivers’ safety even more than we already do each race.”

You’re moved by their solidarity but sigh knowingly. “The FIA would never have listened to just one driver saying something. But maybe they’ll listen to all of us.”

Max’s jaw clenches, residual anger simmering beneath the surface. “They have to listen. We won’t race in unsafe conditions again.”

The other drivers nod, They know the power that you all wield together and for the first time in a long time, you are going to use it.

In a show of outspoken unity, the GPDA drafts a strongly worded letter condemning the lack of caution around extreme heat and demanding tangible changes to make sure drivers aren’t put in avoidable jeopardy.

All twenty of you threaten to strike.

To your surprise, the FIA not only apologizes for the oversight but pledges to implement the requested changes immediately.

“Your crash was a wake-up call,” the FIA president says solemnly during a visit to your hospital room. “We should have protected you better. That will never happen again.”

When he departs, you let out a long breath, leaning back against the pillows. The anger and hurt from that night haven’t disappeared entirely but you feel a sense of hope, that some good has come from the experience.

Max clasps your hand between both of his. “What you went through is unacceptable but you used that to make the sport safer for every driver out there. I’m so proud of you.”

You give him a tired smile. “We did this together. All of us.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Get some rest. When you’re better, we’ve got plenty more checkered flags to take. Side by side.”

The long road to full recovery still lies ahead. But with Max by your side, and all the drivers behind you, you know everything will be okay.

The race goes on but it will be a safer race thanks to you.

[smutoperator]

Underwater

Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader

Tags: cheating, diving, fingering, Hawaii, mermaid, multiple cumshots, pool, titfucking, toplessness, (plenty of) underwater sex, vacation

Word count: 4800.

Eunbi had enjoyed her vacation in Hawaii a lot. Experiencing new things with her best friend Minju and staying very far away from home had been a very pleasant experience for her, as she could eat new kinds of food, discover new activities, hang out along the beautiful Hawaiian beaches, and practice her hobby of scuba diving.

The fact that Eunbi and Minju had traveled in the winter to Hawaii, at the lowest season, meant they faced no crowds and were able not to rush anything in their trip experience. So much so that the two girls had now become the only two people left in the hotel. As Minju took a walk with her manager to explore some places, Eunbi now had the hotel all to herself.

Eunbi rested on the chair, wearing her favorite black bikini. The wintery sun of Hawaii was fairly weak, but enough to give her pale skin a little extra tanning. Eunbi then jumped in the pool, taking her water-proof camera with her as she started recording her diving and swimming under the water.

Minju was still a couple hours away from coming back, meaning Eunbi could be a little riskier. Knowing nobody was around her, Eunbi took some extra freedom, removing the bra from her bikini and getting herself topless in the pool. As the sole guest in the hotel, Eunbi was now just enjoying herself, going multiple times to the border of the pool and taking big jumps that made her fully-free boobs jiggle like jelly every time they touched the water. Eunbi looked like a sexy, stacked little mermaid as she navigated the entire pool under the water. The way her body, especially her hair, tits, legs and ass, moved was cinematic.

As Eunbi emerged from her long underwater dive, a bit of water splashed off the pool. But she was no longer alone, as a guy resting at the side of the pool appeared, his shirt now soaking wet thanks to her sudden reemergence happening in front of him. Eunbi panicked a little bit on the inside but tried to stay calm and use her problem-solving skills as an experienced woman who once led 11 girls on their road to stardom, instinctively covering her boobs as soon as she saw the man. "I'm sorry, I thought I was alone and no new guests would come to the hotel until 2 PM," she said, trying to explain the situation to the man without looking embarrassed.

"No need to be. I arrived earlier; sorry for disrupting you." You treated Eunbi very gently, making her calmer instantly. In the end, you were also shocked at how such a tiny woman could carry such a massive chest yet perform all those moves while swimming, as you didn't know anything about Eunbi's decade-long career as a well-rounded idol, the leader of a group that sold millions and is now pushing towards a solo career. She was just that short but very pretty girl you just met a minute ago at the pool of a hotel.

"You're so kind; how about you join me at the pool?" Eunbi politely asked as you put your tall body inside the pool while still fully clothed, sitting at the first step as you looked into Eunbi's eyes. You trembled a little as the water was quite cold, but Eunbi was already fully acclimated to it. Eunbi bumped her huge chest against yours, unveiling her real intentions as soon as you jumped in, giving you a first kiss you didn't know how to react to. 

"Can I touch them?" you asked, still shy, regarding Eunbi's massive knockers. "Of course, do it as you please; as you can see, I'm very proud of them," Eunbi said back. You placed your right hand on her left boob, groping it softly. Eunbi climbed up a step at the pool and put her tits right in your face, as your hands were now joining your mouth in her right boob. You then firmly grabbed both, alternating between sucking each of her breasts. Then you buried your face on her torso, licking it all the way up to her neck.

Eunbi spiced things up, holding her left boob right in your mouth and letting both of you tongue her nipple while kissing each other. She then placed your head between her breasts and let you motorboat her, stopping it as she placed her hands on your neck and pushed you further into the pool. Eunbi sat on your lap to show off more of her body, as she was much shorter than you, who could get yourself on your knees and still have your head appear over the water. You firmly grabbed her big tits and continued to suck them just as you had started at the pool's border. 

However, your little mermaid already had her next move in mind, as Eunbi detached from your body and started swimming away from you before moving back and yanking your shorts down in just one move. You were impressed at how such a short girl could be so strong. as Eunbi was now swimming fully underwater. The frigid waters meant your cock was still flaccid, but Eunbi was about to change it in a hurry, as just her strong touch was enough to activate your erection despite the adverse conditions. Fully submerged and on her knees, Eunbi looked at your boner with lots of lust, taking it in her mouth as soon as she could. 

You watched as bubbles came out of Eunbi's mouth and nose. Her cock-sucking felt like a shark biting you under the water. "Damn, how can she do this with such ease?" you thought. Eunbi wasn't holding anything back, already inserting your cock deep in her throat from the get-go. When she finally ran out of air, she emerged kissing you, but with her right hand still masturbating your manhood.

It didn't take even 5 seconds before Eunbi was submerged again. You loved the way her wet hair waved under the water. You had never had any sexual activities under the water before, yet there was this tiny girl with big boobs giving you deepthroats underwater without even flinching. As Eunbi increased the heat in your crotch and you acclimated yourself to the water temperature, you took your shirt off and got yourself fully naked.

Eunbi abandoned her kneeling position and was floating and swimming, giving you a view of her firm ass and her strong thighs in motion as she continued to suck you off. You took a more active approach this time, thursting up to start fucking her mouth. Once again, Eunbi barely flinched and invited your challenge with open arms, performing an underwater gag as she pushed your cock as deep in her mouth as she could, and more bubbles came out of it. Eunbi then got back on her knees and pushed harder, sucking your cock more and more violently while bubbling under the water.

Eunbi had stayed a full minute and a half underwater, but it didn't even take two seconds before she was ready to go again. This time, Eunbi stayed on her feet even if the pool's depth was basically her height, slowly sliding down until your shaft finally aligned with her tits. Eunbi enveloped your cock like a sausage between a pair of buns, smirking every time your throbbing tip emerged out of her fun bags, her hair touching the pool's floor as she increased her tits grip at each fucking. You start moving your hips as Eunbi closes her eyes to not let the sun hit them, taking a more passive approach and letting you have fun with her knockers.

As Eunbi emerges after a minute-long underwater titfucking, she kisses you and already thinks about her next step, making sure her hands don't give your cock a single second of rest. You want to appreciate her massive boobs you just fucked, jiggling them with your hands before you suck them like a needy baby. Eunbi moans a little as she takes her thong off for your cock to impale her pussy. You grab Eunbi by her ass, pushing your hard phallus inside her as water comes out of her cunt. Eunbi bounces slowly as she moans. She never thought one of the new experiences she would take from Hawaii would be getting screwed underwater. She tries to slowly adjust to it as she clings onto you, feeling lots of friction in her pussy. 

You try to increase Eunbi's arousal by jumping your mouth right into her tits and sucking her erected nipples. You're now in control, pumping harder and deeper each time inside her walls. Eunbi tries to put her feet at the border, but you push her closer to the center of the pool, increasing the difficulty while banging her faster. 

"Put that big finger in my ass," Eunbi demands as she has yet to adjust to underwater penetration, trying to heat herself up. It turns out it works perfectly. As soon as you spread her cheeks and put your middle finger up in her anus, her initial pain goes away. Your left hand now grabs her right boob alongside her right hand, while your right hand stays underwater, poking her tiny asshole. "Nice boy sticking your finger in my tight ass, ahhhh. Oh God, your cock is so huge." Eunbi was feeling it as you pounded her with your erect 7-inch, her tits now fully underwater as she was just enjoying you doing all the work.

You pulled out of Eunbi but kept your finger stuck deep in her asshole, sensing that she enjoyed it a lot. Eunbi submerged her head halfway underwater as you lifted her right leg for an easier entrance in her pussy, holding the entire weight of her body in your cock and her left leg that barely touched the floor. Eunbi had to remerge as soon as you inserted your prick back in her cunt, grabbing her right thigh, now fully lifted in the air. She found that position to be much more enjoyable, giving you the loudest and hardest moans she could. You groped her left tit hard while letting the other one freely bounce, kissing her while doing so.

Eunbi was now essentially floating as the pounding got harder. You fingered her pussy, leading to faster and more acure moans that got even better once you stuck a pair of fingers inside it alongside your cock. Eunbi was now very weak as her body started to drown, her big tits dropping almost at your navel. You pushed her up, never taking your cock out of her pussy, giving her a pair of long and deep thursts to help her move up. Eunbi, however, was really enjoying it, as she ducked her head underwater shortly after to watch your cock beautifully pump her pussy, even if her huge tits were blocking most of the view and the mauling you were giving her meant she couldn't last long without going back up.

Eunbi took your cock out of her fuckhole and dove her body fully underwater, grabbing your dick by her right hand while upside down, starting a blowjow under the water that quickly evolved into a 69. Bubbles came out of her tightened mouth every time she pushed your cock up. The heat you put in her pussy and the pounding she had just taken were too much, as she lasted for just 30 seconds before going back up. You pushed yourself to the border and caught her by surprise, already inserting your cock back in, before she adjusted for a better angle, pounding her in reverse with your right hand, making fast moves around her clit while her boobs freely jiggled at each thurst you gave her. Eunbi bent over a little, as you now grabbed her by the shoulder, and she played with the water, putting her mouth just at the pool's level to release bubbles on it.

"Damn, that big cock is stretching me so good," Eunbi said as you now locked her hands on her back, pushing her up and letting the little waves of the pool hit right between her tits, who were bouncing so hard she had to grab them with both hands to keep them contained, before realizing it was futile as the harder you pumped her cunt, the more out of control those melons would get. You were the only one who could keep them in control every time you placed your hands in those magnificent Eunbigs to grope them.

You bent your knees just enough so Eunbi's body could be fully underwater, increasing the pace of the pounding while doing so. You now wrap your hands around Eunbi's soft but toned belly, touching it, and wonder what it would look like with a baby inside. You were engaged but had never felt such an urge to have kids with your fiancé, as you would rather wait to consummate your marriage first, but as she recovered from the jet leg at your dorm, you were having thoughts of impregnating someone else. Eunbi was getting completely ragdolled underwater as your left hand wrapped around her tits while you had all your right-hand fingers except the thumb inside her cunt, which was now wetter than the water itself.

You sat on the pool's floor as you grabbed Eunbi's body, thursting upwards like a piston in a car motor, but hitting Eunbi's "valve" every single time as you could only hear her moaning through bubbles popping out of the water every time your cock reached her cervix. Eunbi's juices coated all over your cock as you kept poking her pussy with your fingers, holding her tits as she started having an underwater orgasm. You pushed her head up to hear her fast and loud moans, increasing the speed of your hands in her clit, before pulling out and using her tits as a "washer" for her juices (not like you needed it), putting Eunbi on her knees as you slid your cock between her juicy melons.

Eunbi ducked her head underwater to lick your tip every time your shaft reached the top of her chest. You watched everything from above, in awe at her beautiful silhouete that made her look like a statuesque black-haired mermaid. Eunbi was so deep in the pool that her hair was below your navel once she took your cock fully in her mouth before finally needing to get somewhere. She turned around and swam away from you, moving back to the border of the pool and reaching the three steps that were there. Her tits rested on the upper step while she placed her hands on the middle one and got her knees in the deepest one, bending her ass over to you.

You gave Eunbi's little trimmed bush a tap as you put your cock back in her pussy. Gosh, she looked amazing on all fours, perfect to get pounded balls deep like a submissive toy. And you did just like that, smashing your balls against her meaty clit from the start. Eunbi was back at her strongest now and could take it with ease despite having her head underwater. You wish you could hear any words coming from her sexy mouth, but every time she bubbled under the water, you just assumed she wanted you to go harder.

"Bury that big dick deep inside me." Eunbi emerged, saying those words and proving you correct. You leaned your weight against her body, making her scream at each thrust, always giving a good amount of attention to her milkers. "Perfect, keep going; hit me just like that," Eunbi approved as she dived back in to watch your cock stretching her cunt out, letting out a big smile you weren't able to see. You went rougher, mounting on Eunbi as your cock pounded her just at water level, making big splashes and waves every time you went in and out of her pussy.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," was all Eunbi could say as the water waves hit her clit at full speed alongside your cock. Eunbi fingered her cunt as your balls hit her nails, her tits sagging as gravity pushed them down underwater while her erected nipples perfectly pointed to the floor. Eunbi descended to watch the scene underwater, holding herself just by her left arm as you grabbed her right tit with the same hand, then freeing herself to watch her melons bounce right on her face, beding her whole body in a full arch.

"Holy shit you're so flexible. How did you manage not to fall while I was fucking you?" You were amazed by Eunbi's skills. "Well, I've been a dancer since I was a teenager. And just like a mermaid, I can sing too, even Underwater" she said. "I've been here for nearly half an hour and didn't even ask your name," you said. "Eunbi. Kwon Eunbi," she replied. "Are you from Hawaii?" you continued. "No, I come from Korea," she answered back.

As you too chatted a little and discovered more about Eunbi's career, you learned how she started as a backup dancer who climbed all the way up the ladder, joined a group called "Eyes One," and now has become a solo act in Korea. Her story was quite compelling to you, but her hands massaging your cock were even more so. Just like she did during her career, Eunbi climbed up the pool's steps, this time ready to sit on your big cock, sliding it in with ease as she gave you a passionate kiss and you grabbed her ass.

But you want to test Eunbi's recently discovered dancer flexibility and see if she was truly a mermaid like she claimed to be by pushing her back into the water. She reacts instinctively, placing her left hand at the border and her right foot at the step, while her left foot lands at your shoulder as it lifts in the air. "I know you can float, my little mermaid; let's also see how high you can moan—I mean, sing," you tell her. Eunbi is a little scared but starts to detach from her supports, floating in the water as you stare at her eyes and put your left hand in her waist and your right hand in her boobs.

Eunbi is up to the challenge, even the hardest. It's in her personality. After being the second mother to 11 children, this is easy for her. She takes a deep breath and dives her entire body underwater, leaving just her legs up as you hold her by the waist. After all, she had been training for years to be a diver. Eunbi covers the sun from reaching her eyes with her beautiful black hair. You start pounding her in missionary as she lets out a massive moan that shakes the whole water surrounding you. Eunbi gets to the bottom of the pool, placing her hands at her clit as she lets your thursts press her against the floor, every moan now leading to massive bubbles coming out of her mouth.

It turns out that this is much more difficult for you than it is for her. Your grip on her body is way loosier than at the other positions, leading your cock to slip out a couple times. You grab Eunbi's thighs as she gives you a helping hand to insert your cock back in. Eunbi just watched as you pushed her body closer to her while her jiggly boobs continued to bounce even all the way deep in the trenches of the pool. Eunbi now had her head fully rested as she took a huge pounding. You stared at her fit belly and massive tits, imagining what they would look like with her carrying a baby.

Eunbi finally ran out of air but still managed to be strong enough to not let your cock slip out as she emerged, taking control as you sat on the middle step and she started to ride you. Eunbi made splashes in your cock at each bounce while you searched for her asshole to finger once more. A helicopter flew over your heads, making a lot of noise, but you barely paid attention to it as Eunbi mermaid-esque singing moans were much more attractive. She then switched sides, riding you in reverse as she held her hands on your chest while hers couldn't stop bouncing. Eunbi then let you take control as she lied her tiny body on top of you, letting you splash her clit each time you thursted up into her pussy.

"Harder," Eunbi said just this word. It was enough for you to understand as you groped her tits and pumped her with all your might. Your thrusts were now so hard that they were splashing water all over Eunbi's hips and even her belly. Her tits got spanked, fondled, slapped, and pressed as you used your whole arsenal of moves to please Eunbi's best assets.

"Let's get some sunlight." Sensing you two had stayed long enough underwater, Eunbi looked for something else, heading towards the same chair from which she had started the day tanning herself. Eunbi got herself in all fours, screaming as soon as your tip touched her sensitive walls. The exposure to the sun seemed to have unlocked many more powers in your mermaid, as while her pussy was much easier to penetrate now, it also got much tighter. Eunbi invited you to fuck her as hard as you could, firmly grabbing her butt as you went full force deep into her pussy.

You rewarded Eunbi for her tightness as you let her taste the juice from your cock. Her shark-biting blowjob was still present above the water, as her mouth was warmer than ever. You couldn't resist her warmth and went on to fuck her face, grabbing her by her wet hair before she took a few turns sucking your balls. You kept Eunbi in the same position as your cock felt like it was about to explode each time you got to the depths of her pussy. You pushed her body a little upwards to let her boobs bounce harder. 

"Oh, that's good. Give that big cock to me, deep inside my pussy," she whispered to you, holding your right hand as it grabbed her ass. You couldn't see much of it underwater, but now you had a full view of how meaty her pussy lips were. "Put that magic finger up my ass; please my ass as you fuck my pussy harder," Eunbi demanded as you inserted your large thumb in her tight anus. "Harder, harder, harder," a whispering out of breath Eunbi said, twisting around the chair as her boobs got grabbed.

"Please cum all over my face," she said. Mermaids truly could predict the future, given that as soon as you said those words, a rush hit your cock, forcing you to pull out quickly to meet her demands. "Give me your face," you said as your seeds hit Eunbi's cheeks and lips, with some even going to her hair or being wasted on the floor. Your cock still released a few drops of cum long after the first burst, almost as if Eunbi's pussy had given it a massive boost.

"Turn around," you demanded of Eunbi, letting her tits now face you. Despite just cumming, you looked more insatiable than ever, grabbing Eunbi's right leg and lifting it up as your left hand rested in her belly. Your desire to put a baby on it had reached its maximum, making you forget any thoughts about your fiancé. You only wanted Eunbi. But just like her, you had to climb a long ladder. "I know you still got some cum in there, baby. Next, I want you to cover my tits," Eunbi demanded, griding her teeth as you looked at her face full of your dried-up sperm.

"Deeper, deeper, deeper, deeper," she kept repeating in an almost militaristic manner. You wanted to disobey her orders and just finish inside her, but you knew she wasn't an ordinary woman and you would be in trouble the moment you didn't follow her instructions. "GIVE ME ALL THAT COCK, OH GOD!" Eunbi screamed, sensing your second shot was just moments away. "Make me cum; make my pussy explode all over your cock. Make my pussy cum, AHHHHH," Eunbi kept asking as you pressed her fully lifted right leg into her nipples. You were hitting her best spots, and her pussy was indeed about to explode. "Right there, right there," she kept repeating, telling you where to hit the correct spots.

"Can you feel that pussy squeezing all over your cock? Push it all the way in. Earn it." Eunbi wanted you to prove to her that you were among the best. You started getting out of breath, feeling as if Eunbi's pussy wrapping your cock for nearly an hour had drained half the years of your life. But Eunbi just wanted you to keep pushing, worried at the prospect of Minju arriving at any moment and finding her in such a position as she was expected to come in around 15 minutes.

You closed Eunbi's legs and pushed your cock from behind, fixating your thoughts on the jiggles of her tits. You were almost there. "God, you're growing; your cock is getting bigger." Eunbi wasn't lying, as her mermaid powers had turned your 7-inch into a 9-inch the longer she went under the sun. "Make me cum," she was the one saying it, but you were the one who was ready to unload, as Eunbi dropped her back at the chair, giving you an amazing full-body view that was too much for you to handle: her wet hair, her cum-covered face, her massive milkers and big areolas, her round belly, her little bush, and her bikini marks.

Eunbi sat and put her tits at your shooting range, grabbing them so gravity couldn't drop them down. "Come on, give it to me," she demanded as you groaned, ready to shoot. Her left boob got most of the milk, with even a bit slipping into her side tattoo, while the right one only got a few sparks. Eunbi grabbed her cum-covered melons, licking your white protein from her left tit. She got back on all fours and then ordered, as soon as she got your cock back into a full erection with just a single, powerful mermaid deepthroat, "Stick that big dick deep up that cunt until you cum.".

You couldn't even last 10 seconds this time. Eunbi's pussy clenched your cock so hard you painted her walls with semen in a snap. Never had you felt such a powerful ejaculation; your foreskin burned, your glans were so hyperextended it felt like they would explode at any second, the veins of your shaft bled, and you felt like she would never let you pull out, as her walls bit you like a shark to a point you felt like they would slice your dick in half. When you finally managed to, your once powerful 9-inch dick had been pulverized and athopied into a soft and sorry excuse of a cock.

"I guess we meet again later," you said, trying to hide the embarrassment you felt of your short dick that had been fully drained by that little powerful mermaid. As you disappeared out of Eunbi's sights, a beautiful, foxy girl arrived. Eunbi greeted Minju, who responded with a kiss on her cheek, right at the point where you had ejaculated on her. "Unnie, I think there is some white cream on your face," Minju said. "My bad, Minju, I had forgotten I had just taken more sunscreen," Eunbi lied.

For you, there was no next time. By the time you returned to the hotel's public area, Eunbi was gone. Maybe she dove back into the cold and deep waters of the Pacific Ocean and went back to her mermaid life. But you were never the same. The vacation you made to propose to your fiancé became about a tiny girl with big tits who was the only thing you could think about. Every time you looked at the hotel's pool, flashes of Eunbi invaded your head.

You reluctantly proposed to your fiancé in Hawaii, but as you arrived home, you had already taken an U-turn, as she spotted you booking tickets to Korea by yourself without telling her. "Why are you going to Korea? We just had our vacation," she asked.

"I think we should take a break," you said, packing your begs and heading to Korea, enchanted by the serenades of a little mermaid.

I decided to do this one as a gift, off-schedule smut. I have been thinking of doing a smut of Eunbi in Hawaii since the moment she announced her vacation with Minju, but wasn't finding the plot. The moment I saw her in that bikini, it finally came to my mind. Although @thelibrarian69 beat me to it and did a smut using the same pool scenario just a couple days ago, I think our smuts are fundamentally different, as I tried to put more emphasis on the underwater sex stuff and the characterization of Eunbi as a mermaid, while also adding references to her career. Since "Underwater" is literally Eunbi's signature song, no one better than her to be the protagonist of a smut that mostly takes place underwater.

[starset21]

I Know Love Pt.1

Pairing: Lando Norris x Piastri!sister reader

Summery: Lando has always been a friend, her brother’s easygoing, fun-loving teammate. But when a fleeting moment in the garage—a near fall, a steadying touch—sends an undeniable spark through her, she starts to see him in a different light. And she’s not the only one. Oscar notices the shift, and he’s not thrilled.

Standard disclaimer: I do not consent to the posting, translating, or publishing of my work to any 3rd party site, the only place it may found is on tumblr or A03 under the same name. This is all fake. It does not reflect real people, real events or their actual actions or relationships. May contain google translated languages.

A/N: Wow a Lando fic? who am I?

The McLaren garage was a controlled storm of movement—mechanics tightening bolts, engineers huddled over screens, the scent of fuel and rubber thick in the air. It was a world she had always been a part of, but this year, it was different. This year, she wasn’t just Oscar Piastri’s sister. She was an engineer. Fresh out of university, she had spent the last year interning with McLaren while finishing her degree. Now officially part of the team, she was living the dream she had worked for—traveling with one of the most competitive teams on the grid, analyzing data, working with some of the brightest minds in motorsport. And yet, as she stood in the garage, taking in the organized chaos around her, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched. 

She didn’t have to look to know who it was.

Lando Norris.

He was perched on the edge of a workbench, race suit tied around his waist, arms crossed as he half-listened to an engineer briefing him about car setup. But his eyes—those sharp green eyes—kept flickering toward her. He had been doing that a lot lately. She tried to ignore it, just like she had ignored the lingering glances, the subtle teasing that felt just a little too personal, the way he always managed to be near her, even when there was no real reason to be.

Lando had been in her life since Oscar signed with McLaren. She had known him as her brother’s teammate, as the guy who spent way too much time in their apartment, as the one who dragged Oscar into ridiculous online challenges and way too many rounds of golf. But now?

Now she wasn’t just Oscar’s little sister who tagged along to races. She was a part of this team. She was someone Lando wasn’t supposed to flirt with, wasn’t supposed to look at like that.

And yet, here they were.

“Hey, rookie!” She turned at the sound of Oscar’s voice, watching as her brother waved her over from across the garage. She rolled her eyes at the nickname. He was already half-suited up, looking effortlessly in his element, the Piastri name printed proudly across his back. “Can you grab the updated telemetry from the board? We need to go over it before FP2.”

“On it,” she called back, already moving. The responsibility of being part of McLaren, of making real contributions to the car’s performance, was still something she was adjusting to. But she was good at her job. She had worked too hard, spent too many late nights studying aerodynamics, data analysis, and race strategy, to be seen as just Oscar’s sister. She was here because she had earned it. Navigating the crowded garage, she focused on her task—until the moment she didn’t. Her foot caught on a thick cable running across the floor, and before she could react, she was falling. A sharp gasp left her lips, but before she could hit the ground, strong hands grabbed her, pulling her back against a solid chest. 

Everything stilled.

A familiar scent of cologne and race fuel filled her senses. A steady grip held her firmly, keeping her upright. She knew exactly who it was before she even turned her head. Lando. His hands lingered on her waist for a moment too long before he finally loosened his grip. “You alright?” he asked, voice lower than usual, his breath warm against her cheek. Her heart was hammering in her chest—not from the fall, but from this. From him. She straightened quickly, trying to ignore the heat crawling up her neck. “Yeah, I just—” she exhaled, forcing a light laugh, “—was testing gravity. Works great, in case you were wondering.”

Lando smirked, the familiar mischief flickering in his expression. “Good to know. Maybe try not to test it in the middle of a race garage next time?” She rolled her eyes, brushing herself off. “I’ll keep that in mind.” But then, his voice dropped slightly, softer, more serious. “Careful, though,” he murmured. “I’m not always around to catch you.” And just like that, the teasing edge was gone, replaced by something heavier, something unspoken.

Her breath hitched slightly, her brain scrambling for a response, but before she could find one, Oscar’s voice cut through the moment. “What the hell was that?” She spun around to see her brother standing a few feet away, arms crossed, brows raised. Lando immediately stepped back, clearing his throat and running a hand through his hair like he hadn’t just been holding her like that. “Nothing,” she said quickly, shooting Oscar a look. “I just tripped.” 

Oscar’s gaze flicked between her and Lando, his expression unreadable before he exhaled, shaking his head. “Right. Well, try not to break anything before FP2, yeah?” She gave a mock salute. “No promises.” As Oscar walked away, she turned back to Lando, expecting another smirk, another teasing remark. But he was already looking at her—like he was thinking about something he wasn’t saying. She should have walked away. Should have ignored the way her stomach flipped. Should have reminded herself that this was a bad idea. But instead, for a split second, she let herself wonder.

What if?

The garage was alive with movement—mechanics fine-tuning the car, engineers cross-referencing data, the rhythmic hiss of drills filling the air as tire changes were simulated over and over. It was the kind of organized chaos she had come to love, the pulse of an F1 weekend beating strong around her. And yet, she felt… off. She was supposed to be locked in, completely focused. But ever since yesterday—since him—something had changed. It wasn’t anything obvious. Lando still moved through the garage like he always did—laughing with the team, listening to the engineers break down data, cracking jokes to lighten the mood. To anyone else, nothing was different. But she knew better. It was the way his eyes flickered toward her across the room, how he never seemed to look away fast enough. It was the way his presence felt closer— lingering near her workstation when he never used to before, standing just a little too near whenever she was giving Oscar or the engineers updates. And it was in the way she noticed him more now, too. She wasn’t blind—Lando had always been easy to look at, and plenty of girls did. She had spent years rolling her eyes at every new headline linking him to a model or influencer. It had never mattered before. So why did she care now?

She was deep in concentration, reviewing telemetry for the upcoming session, when Lando’s voice cut through the hum of the garage. "Whatcha looking at?" Before she could answer, he leaned down over her chair to glance at the screen, one hand bracing against the desk beside hers. His arm brushed against her shoulder, his body heat close enough that she could feel it even through the fabric of her team shirt. Her fingers tensed on the keyboard. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, trying to keep her voice steady. “You suddenly care about telemetry when we aren’t in a debrief?”

Lando smirked. "I care about looking fast. And if you have some secret data to make that happen, I should probably know about it." She rolled her eyes but didn’t push him away. “If you’re looking for extra speed, maybe listen to your engineers instead of flirting with them.” His smirk deepened. “Who said I was flirting?” She turned her head then, her breath catching slightly at how close he was. Their faces were only inches apart, and there was something unreadable in his expression. A flicker of amusement, yes—but also something heavier, something deeper than his usual teasing. For a split second, neither of them moved. Then, just as quickly as he had leaned in, Lando straightened, grabbing a water bottle from the table like nothing had happened. “See you out there, rookie.” And just like that, he was gone, leaving her heart racing in his wake.

In the engineering office during a quiet moment between FP3 and qualifying. She was sitting at her workstation, buried in a complex set of calculations, when she heard it— Her name. Soft. Slow. Amused.

"Hey, you."

She glanced up and, of course, it was him. Leaning against the desk next to hers, looking far too relaxed for someone about to drive a car at 200 miles per hour. And then he did it again. Said her name, except this time, there was something in the way he dragged it out, a teasing lilt at the end that made her stomach flip against her will. She swallowed, trying to keep her voice level. “What do you want, Norris?” His smirk deepened, and she instantly regretted saying his name. “Just checking in,” he said, rocking slightly on the balls of his feet. “You seemed stressed earlier.” She huffed, turning back to her screen. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?” he asked, his voice dipping lower, quieter. She clenched her jaw. Focus. Focus. But then he leaned down, elbows on the desk, close enough that she caught the clean, fresh scent of him—something woodsy and warm that made her thoughts scramble. He tapped a finger against her laptop. “You work too hard.” She forced a scoff. “I think that’s a prerequisite for working in F1.”

“Doesn’t mean you should forget to have a little fun.” She turned to him, arching an eyebrow. “And I suppose you’re offering?” He grinned. “Maybe.” Her pulse spiked. It was dangerous how easy this was for him.

She thought she was done for the night. She thought she’d made it through without anything happening—without slipping up, without letting whatever this was get to her. But then she stepped into the hotel elevator and the doors started to slide shut, only to be stopped by a hand catching them. Lando. Of course. He slipped in, the doors closing behind him, and suddenly it was just the two of them in the small, enclosed space. And there it was again—that feeling, that unshakable sense that something had changed. They stood in silence for a moment as the elevator started its slow climb. Then Lando spoke, his voice quieter now, almost contemplative. “You’re avoiding me.” She inhaled sharply, keeping her eyes locked on the floor numbers slowly lighting up. “I have not been avoiding you.” Lando scoffed, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “Oh, really?”

“You’re just in my space more,” she shot back. His lips quirked, but his eyes were serious. “Maybe.” Silence stretched between them. She could feel the weight of it pressing against her chest, thick and heavy. Then, he leaned in slightly. Not close enough to touch, but close enough that his voice was meant just for her. “You know I see you watching me, too, right?” She inhaled sharply. Heat crept up her neck, and she cursed her own reaction. “Don’t flatter yourself.” Lando let out a low chuckle, shaking his head and stepping into her space. “I think you like me.” Her jaw clenched. “You’re an idiot.” 

“Not denying it, though.” She glared at him, her heart hammering against her ribs. But before she could snap back, the elevator dinged, she instinctively stepped away from him and the doors slid open to reveal Oscar standing on the other side. His eyes flicked between them, sharp and questioning. Lando didn’t move for a moment, as if debating whether to push just a little further, but then he stepped back further with a knowing smirk. “See you tomorrow, then,” he murmured before walking past Oscar with an easy nod, disappearing down the hall. She exhaled, realizing just how tightly wound her body had been. Oscar, still holding the door open, gave her a look. She rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up.” He didn’t say anything, but she felt his judgment.

[tiktaalic]

Im struggling to put into words what timothee chalamets performance was like in a complete unknown so here are the best fits I’ve gotten. Average them together and you’ll get pretty close I think

it’s like a 7 year old body-swapped with timothee chalamet and had to navigate the world as bob dylan

It’s like everyone else in the movie is performing a well rehearsed play and timothee chalamet’s character is a guy who walked off the street and into the set accidentally but now he’s a part of the play and he’s improvising all his lines while people react to them dead seriously with the intensity of someone who has been rehearsing this play for months.

It’s like he’s in rat random mode

You know when twitch streamers use like. The movements of Goldfish or chickens or something to control their movements in a game. It’s like someone did that to bob dylan timothee chalamet

Run don’t walk. To a complete unknown

[strawberry-bubblef]

this one's too self indulgent for me, but may i request for octavinelle dealing with a first year!reader? (who is also a merperson like them) perhaps they'll also be introducing them to the business - 🎣 anon

Octavinelle introducing a first year!reader to their business

Azul Ashengrotto

From the moment you stepped into Night Raven College, Azul saw potential. A fellow merperson,one who could understand the intricacies of the ocean’s hierarchy,was a rare find. He approached you with his usual businesslike charm, offering a smooth introduction to the Monstro Lounge. “You see dear..” he’d say, adjusting his glasses, “running a business is an art form one that you, as a fellow merperson, could truly appreciate. The ocean is a cutthroat place, is it not?”

Under Azul’s guidance, you found yourself learning the fundamentals of negotiation, persuasion, and contract-making. He was meticulous in his teachings, ensuring that every lesson benefited both you and, of course, his business. If you had a sharp mind, he would encourage you to assist him in handling deals, teaching you the fine art of turning a casual conversation into a profitable transaction. If you were more hands-on, he’d place you in customer service, watching closely as you dealt with difficult clients. Azul valued efficiency and results, and if you performed well, he would reward you with privileges within Octavinelle.

“You’re catching on quickly,” he’d murmur with a pleased smile. “Perhaps, with time, you might even be able to manage a sector of the Lounge yourself. How does that sound?”

Despite his composed exterior, Azul had high hopes for you. As a fellow merperson, he believed you had the potential to navigate the tricky waters of business as he did. However, he was always testing you,watching to see if you would swim alongside him or sink under the pressure. After all, success in Octavinelle wasn’t granted freely, it was earned.

Jade Leech

Jade was far less direct than Azul, but no less influential. He observed you with that ever-mysterious smile, only stepping in when he deemed necessary. If you found yourself helping around the Lounge, Jade would stand beside you, his voice smooth and measured. “It’s quite fascinating to see how surface dwellers handle their affairs, isn’t it? I wonder how you’ll adapt.”

He had a way of testing your limits, sometimes in ways you didn’t even realize until it was too late. If you had a natural curiosity, he’d subtly lead you down intriguing paths,introducing you to rare ingredients for the Lounge’s menu or engaging you in conversations about the vast unknowns of the ocean. You often found yourself listening to his stories, unsure of how much was truth and how much was simply his amusement at watching your reactions.

“Have you ever encountered a sea creature capable of hypnotizing its prey?” he’d ask, watching as you hesitated. “Ah, well… some say the eyes of a certain eel can do just that.”

If you were more reserved, he’d push just enough to see how you reacted, always watching, always amused. He enjoyed watching you squirm under his subtle challenges, especially when you least expected them. If you ever asked him outright what his intentions were, he would simply chuckle and tilt his head. “Why, I simply wish to know you better, my dear fellow merperson. Is that not natural?”

Unlike Azul, who wanted to shape you into a perfect business partner, Jade was more interested in observing your growth. He enjoyed watching your choices, your reactions, and the way you navigated the social dynamics of Night Raven College. It was a game to him, and you were an intriguing new piece on the board.

Floyd Leech

“Aww, Shrimpy’s one of us? That makes it even better!” Floyd’s enthusiasm upon finding out you were a merperson was immediate and overwhelming. Unlike Azul and Jade, who had their own calculated ways of integrating you into Octavinelle, Floyd simply decided you were his new favorite plaything.

From that moment on, he dragged you into his chaos. “C’mon, let’s have some fun! Working at the Lounge’s not all boring, y’know~” His version of ‘fun’ often involved skipping work to explore, pranking unlucky customers, or suddenly testing your reflexes in ways that left you questioning whether he was trying to train you or torment you.

If you handled him well,matching his energy or at least keeping your cool,he’d grin and declare “Shrimpy’s got some bite! I like it!” If you struggled, well… you’d better hope Azul was around to keep him in check. Either way, Floyd made sure that life in Octavinelle was never dull for you.

Unlike Azul and Jade, who had a method to their actions, Floyd was unpredictable. One day, he’d drag you into the Lounge’s kitchen to test new menu items, only to shove something suspiciously glowing in your hands with a mischievous grin. “Try it~ Let’s see if it makes you glow too!” Another day, he might throw an arm around your shoulders and suddenly start swimming at top speed in the school’s underground waterways, laughing as you struggled to keep up.

But despite his erratic nature, there was an odd sort of camaraderie in Floyd’s actions. He treated you like a true sibling,sometimes annoying, sometimes overbearing, but undeniably protective. If anyone dared to mess with you, his entire demeanor would shift, his grip tightening as his usual grin turned sharp. “What do you think you’re doing to my little Shrimpy?”

English is not my first language !

[sowhatwereyousaying]

A Promise - Part 3

summary: Your lunch date continues as the two of you navigate through the attention, chaos and your own clashing personalities.

warnings: age gap (reader is in their 20s and gong yoo is in his 40s); fake dating, pr

I should have known lunch wouldn’t be normal.

Not with Gong Yoo. Not with the media circus breathing down our necks. And definitely not when the waitstaff gasped the second we walked in like we were royalty.

“This was a mistake,” I muttered, tugging at the sleeves of my totally-not-date-appropriate hoodie.

“Nonsense,” Gong Yoo said, placing a hand on the small of my back like a seasoned performer. “We’re a perfectly in love, totally natural couple. Just act normal.”

“Normal people don’t have to pretend to be engaged.”

“Details,” he said with a smug little smile.

Before I could object, we were being ushered to a ridiculously romantic corner table with candles, fresh flowers, and a window overlooking the view outside

I turned to him. “Did you plan this?”

He lifted an innocent brow. “I have no idea what you mean.”

I did not believe him.

The waiter approached, visibly trembling. “M-Mr. Gong Yoo! It’s an honour! A-and Miss…” His eyes flickered to me, recognition dawning. His pupils dilated. “Oh my god. You’re… her.”

I gave him a weak wave. “Hi.”

The waiter clasped his hands together dramatically. “I can’t believe I’m serving Korea’s most beloved couple.”

Gong Yoo, the absolute menace, just smiled and said, “Neither can we.”

I kicked him under the table. Hard.

He barely flinched.

“Should I bring out champagne?” the waiter asked eagerly.

“No need,” I said quickly. “Water’s fine.”

“Actually,” Gong Yoo mused, tapping his chin, “do you have anything to celebrate a whirlwind romance?”

The waiter practically levitated with joy. “Of course! I’ll bring our special for today”

I was going to strangle Gong Yoo.

As the waiter scurried off, I turned back to him, glaring. “Would you like to be murdered now, or after dessert?”

He propped his chin on his hand, utterly unbothered. “Murdering your fiancé in public? Bold choice.”

I scowled. “I’m not your fiancée.”

He sighed theatrically. “Tell that to the hundreds of fans outside.”

My stomach plummeted.

I peeked toward the restaurant’s entrance—sure enough, a horde of people were gathered outside, phones raised, waiting for their next dose of drama.

I groaned. “Oh my god, they’re filming us.”

“Then we’d better make it convincing.”

Before I could react, Gong Yoo reached across the table and took my hand.

Casually. Effortlessly. Like he’d done it a million times before.

I froze.

His fingers were warm, steady, and ridiculously confident.

I should have pulled away. I should have yanked my hand back and reminded him that this was fake.

Instead, I just… sat there.

“You’re blushing,” he said, voice silky with amusement.

“I’m not.”  “You are.” “I’m literally not.”

He leaned forward slightly, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “It’s cute.”

I yanked my hand back so fast I nearly flipped the table.

“Stop that.” “Stop what?”

“Whatever you’re doing.” I narrowed my eyes. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

He smirked. “And you’re not?”

I was going to lose my mind.

The waiter returned, placing our drinks in front of us with a bright smile. “Here you go! A special cocktail for a special couple!”

I grabbed mine, ready to chug the entire thing out of sheer secondhand embarrassment.

But then—just as I brought it to my lips—Gong Yoo spoke again. “So, if we’re stuck having a meal together, we might as well make it interesting.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Define ‘interesting.’”

“Twenty questions.”

I blinked. “What?”

He leaned back, swirling his drink lazily. “You get to ask me anything. I get to ask you anything. No lying.”

I hesitated. “And if I don’t want to answer?”

He smirked. “Then you take a sip.”

It wasn’t the worst idea.

I exhaled. “Fine. You first.”

His eyes twinkled. “Why do you think I’m handsome?”

I nearly choked. “Excuse me?”

He shrugged, utterly smug. “You got drunk and kissed me. You must have found me attractive.”

“I was drunk.”

“And?”

I groaned, grabbing my drink and taking a long sip.

He grinned. “That’s what I thought.”

“Okay, my turn.” I sat up straighter, ready to destroy him. “What’s your biggest fear?”

For the first time, his smirk faltered.

A shadow flickered across his face, brief but unmistakable. Then, just as quickly, it was gone.

“Being alone,” he said, casually, like it was nothing.

I blinked, taken aback.

It was the first real answer he’d given me.

For a second, I saw something different in him. Not just the playboy, the celebrity, the man who thrived on attention—but someone who, deep down, had the same fears as anyone else.

And maybe, just maybe… someone I could actually like.

He tilted his head. “What? Surprised?”

I shook my head slowly. “No… just didn’t expect that level of honesty.”

He smirked, but it was softer this time. “Like I said. No lying.”

The conversation shifted after that.

Somehow, between the chaos—the fans outside, the waitstaff watching our every move, the ridiculous romance of the setting—we started talking, really talking.

I learned that Gong Yoo could cook surprisingly well, that he hated wearing socks, that he had once contemplated quitting acting to move to the countryside, and that he loved fishing above all else.

He learned that I hated early mornings, had a ridiculous fear of pigeons, had a job that I loved but paid waayy too less and that I once auditioned for a reality show and completely bombed.

It was… fun.

By the time the meal was over, I had laughed more times than I could count.

And for the first time since this mess started, I thought… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad being fake-engaged to Gong Yoo.

Unfortunately, reality came crashing back way too fast.

As we stepped outside, the crowd of fans and reporters exploded with excitement. Cameras flashed, questions were shouted, and someone even threw a flower bouquet at us.

I barely caught it in time.

Gong Yoo turned to me, grinning. “Looks like the universe approves of us.”

I scowled, shoving the bouquet into his chest. “I hope you’re allergic.”

He laughed—a deep, genuine sound that resonated even above the clamour—effortlessly wrapping an arm around my waist, guiding me through the crowd like we’d done this a million times before and for a moment, we ducked into a quieter side street away from the press frenzy.

In the calm of the narrow alley, with the city’s hustle muffled by brick walls and distant traffic, the adrenaline faded, and reality set in. I found myself glancing at him, really looking, and realizing that Gong Yoo had shared pieces of himself I hadn’t expected beneath the charm and the notorious playboy image. He wasn’t just a celebrity contrived for the tabloids; he was a man with fears, dreams, and quirks much like anyone else.

“You know,” he said softly, leaning against the wall as we waited for our ride, “I never imagined a day like today. Not like this, anyway.” I met his gaze, and for a moment, the chaos around us felt like a distant echo. “Neither did I,” I admitted. “This is insane… and yet, not entirely terrible.” He chuckled, a sound both teasing and tender. “Perhaps the universe works in mysterious ways.” I smiled, feeling an unfamiliar warmth. “Maybe"

As the taxi pulled up and we stepped inside, the lights of the city blurred past the window. Amid all the absurdity—a drunken kiss, a fake engagement, a chaotic lunch that turned unexpectedly genuine—I realized that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t entirely opposed to this wild ride after all.

And while the future was as unpredictable as ever, at that moment, I allowed myself a small hope: that what began as a scandalous accident might just lead to something real.

a/n: I will literally never stop thanking yall for giving this fic so much love, like every time yall like it or reblog it or comment on it, I literally FEEL SO HAPPY like omg. Also Gong Yoo has a meet and greet tomorrow in japan so NEW PHOTOS YAYYAYAYYAY. This chapter was fun to write, i know I wrote a few cheesy things in but like honestly you can't blame me for being sucha dork lol. Let me know if this speed ig is like ok or like you want me to go faster, cz I am absolutely clueless. I hope yall eat this part up in 15 mins like yall did with the last one lmao.

taglist (I FEEL SO GRATEFUL): @preppyfella @muchwita @shadow-tumbler @dyingswanpavlova

[totalswag]

Hello lovely I love ur writing abt Drew & Reader actresse sweetheart it's so good <3 I have a little request to make to you if you don't mind, Drew react to the Reader acting in the horror film masterpiece (like the movies Suspiria and Climax vibes) of which she's a part of the main cast

I'm just curious if he would be terrified or blown away by this kind of role that she plays like this one or not ;) thank u !!!

unbelievable performance — DREW STARKEY

authors note aw thank you lovie! that means so much to me. by the time you are reading this, my second fic with drew x actress!reader is out (the first date). i have never seen either movies that you listed in your request but i did look them up to get a gist.

summary drew was impressed by your performance in your latest horror film.

warnings mentions of kissing, horror films

masterlist

Tonight marks the premiere of your new horror film, in which you star with some amazing actors. After many hours of continuous filming, sequences are officially wrapped. You're extremely proud of yourself and your casemates. 

You were the staring lead in the movie. Getting the part after auditioning was a blessing in disguise. This being your very first staring lead role in any movie you’ve been in, you were so proud of yourself.

Everyone is seated in the theater. Drew, your boyfriend, also came with you. The entire cast stood in front of the stage as your director discussed the film a bit.

You shifted your focus to Drew, who was already looking at you in admiration, which made you smile and making you blush.

When you stepped up to your seat, he leaned down to your ear and whispered, "I want you to know that I'm so proud of you, and I know you did an amazing job on this movie," before kissing the top of your head.

“I love you baby, so much” you answer with your voice already starting to crack before tears wanted to burst out.

“Me more.”

Drew was so excited to watch his beautiful girlfriend on the big screen. Non-stop talking about the movie with you and his predictions on what will happen.

Everyone in the theater began to applaud as soon as the lights went out. Drew's hand moved easily down your thigh and gave it a little squeeze. Your skin began to tingle from his touch.

The movie begins with a hauntingly beautiful dance routine in which the camera swirls around the dancers in a way that is both captivating and unnerving. Drew is instantly captivated. As the story progresses, he observes your character navigating a world fraught with psychological pain and supernatural fear.

Half way through the movie, it’s been jaw dropping and incredible.

He is always on the edge of his seat in every situation you are in. You capture the dread and lunacy of the film's twisted narrative with an unvarnished and honest performance.

He's afraid and enthralled with the story at the same time, amazed at your ability to portray such raw emotion. Never once did he take his eyes off the screen.

The way the movie came out was unbelievable. The editors did wonders on this movie and made it into something viewers will want to keep watching.

Once you two arrived home after eating dinner at the after party, Drew and you took a shower together in your shared bathroom, changed into pajamas, then went into bed with the tv playing.

Later that night, back at home, Drew can't stop talking about the movie.

"You know, watching you in that role allowed me to see a completely other side of you. You were fierce, vulnerable, and incredibly compelling. "It was like watching an acting masterclass."

You laugh quietly and rest your head on his shoulder. "It means a lot hearing you say that. I was concerned about how you would react."

"Are you kidding?" I loved it. "I'm just glad I wasn't watching it alone in the dark," he jokes.

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[jxwl4k]

Soft spot

Plot: Katsuki bakugou, having a soft spot for Y/N

In the bustling halls of Aldera Junior High, where future heroes roamed, Katsuki Bakugou was a force to be reckoned with. Known for his explosive temper and fierce ambition, he was a standout among his peers. However, hidden beneath his fiery exterior was a side that only a few close friends knew – a softer, more caring side that emerged around you, the quiet and shy student who had caught his attention.

You and Katsuki had been classmates since elementary school, though he had never paid much attention to your soft-spoken nature until middle school. It started one day during a particularly chaotic lunch break. The cafeteria was loud and crowded, and you were trying to navigate through the bustling crowd when someone accidentally bumped into you, causing you to drop your books.

Before you could even react, Katsuki appeared out of nowhere, his usual scowl softened slightly as he helped you gather your scattered belongings. "Watch where you're going, idiots," he barked at the crowd, making them scatter with a mix of fear and respect.

"Um, thank you, Katsuki," you mumbled shyly, feeling flustered by the sudden attention.

He grunted in response, handing you your books. "Just be more careful next time," he muttered, but there was a hint of concern in his voice that caught you off guard.

From that day on, small gestures of kindness from Katsuki became more frequent. He would subtly make sure you had a seat in class, offer you his notes when you missed a lesson, and even defend you from the occasional bully who mistook your quiet demeanor for weakness.

One rainy afternoon, after school had ended, you found yourself caught in a sudden downpour without an umbrella. You hesitated, unsure of what to do, when Katsuki appeared beside you, holding out his own umbrella. "Here," he grumbled, shoving it towards you. "You'll catch a cold if you stand there like an idiot."

"Th-thank you, Katsuki," you stammered, feeling touched by his unexpected kindness.

He shrugged, avoiding your gaze. "Just take it. I don't need it anymore."

As you walked home together under the umbrella, you couldn't help but notice how Katsuki's demeanor softened around you. He asked about your day in a gruff manner, but his genuine interest in your well-being was evident. It was moments like these that made you realize there was more to Katsuki Bakugou than his explosive personality – he had a caring side that he reserved only for those he trusted.

One day, during a school festival celebrating hero achievements, you and Katsuki found yourselves watching a hero performance together. His usual scowl softened as he watched the heroes in action, occasionally stealing glances at you to gauge your reaction.

"They're not bad," he remarked casually, though you could tell he was genuinely impressed.

"They're amazing," you replied softly, earning a small, almost imperceptible smile from him.

As the festival continued, you both explored the stalls, trying different foods and playing games. Katsuki's competitive streak shone through as he insisted on winning every game for you, though he grumbled about it the entire time.

As the day drew to a close and the sun began to set over the festival grounds, you found yourselves sitting on a bench, enjoying a moment of quiet together.

"You know," Katsuki started, his voice surprisingly gentle, "you're not as annoying as I thought you were when we first met."

You chuckled softly, nudging his shoulder playfully. "I'll take that as a compliment, Katsuki."

He huffed, but there was a genuine warmth in his eyes as he looked at you. "Yeah, well, someone's gotta keep you out of trouble."

In that moment, under the fading light of the festival, you realized just how much Katsuki cared for you, despite his tough exterior and gruff demeanor. His actions spoke louder than words, revealing a friendship built on mutual respect, unspoken understanding, and a growing affection that neither of you quite knew how to express.

And as you walked home together, sharing stories and laughing about the day's events, you couldn't help but feel grateful for having Katsuki Bakugou as your friend in middle school – a friend who, despite his explosive personality, had a soft spot just for you.

[obxsummer]

ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

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ask me anything 

--

you didn't think that was the end of the story... did you?

Rafe Cameron wasn’t very empathetic. His whole life, Ward had told him to be better, to try harder, to be perfect. He had been molded since day one to show no weakness, to be stone faced, to never give up, to be mean. 

It had taken his father dying for that to change. Rafe didn’t want to be mean. He wanted to show emotion with no consequence, he wanted to be sad and to cry and to mourn. He wanted to be weak and let someone else take the lead for once. He wanted to be protected instead of the protector. He wanted to be himself.

One thing Rafe refused to do, even now, was give up.

He’d moved quickly once your eyes had fluttered shut and everyone else was standing in shock. That’s when Rafe performed best, when nobody else seemed to know what to do. He moved forward, grabbing John B’s shoulder to shift him before scooping you up with caution regarding the wound in your side. 

Sarah followed in his lead, reassuring JJ that it was okay when the blond moved to react. Pope finally separated from Cleo’s side to approach Rafe, his fingers moving to the pulse point on your neck as he brushed away his tears and sniffled. “It’s still there. We gotta move.”

Rafe didn’t need another word and moved on his own accord. If they had the mind to follow, they could. He wasn’t wasting time. 

Which brings us here. Eighteen hours ago, Rafe Cameron had made a call on behalf of the version of himself that had put you through so much. A call that came with an exchange of cash, not that he didn’t have plenty, but it got the Pogues a roof over their heads and a private doctor to take a closer look at injuries. 

Things had moved fast from there. The doctor had taken a closer look including stitches, fluids, and whatever else deemed necessary. Cleo’s bullet wound to the shoulder was cleaned and bandaged. JJ’s side recovering nicely in consideration of what all had happened. 

And so here was Rafe Cameron, keeping watch over your sleeping form as the group slept around him. His hand was freshly cleaned and wrapped properly now, but it didn’t do much to ease the ache in his chest.

JJ had tried to stay up as long as possible before crying himself back to sleep at your side, tear tracks still evident on his cheeks. John B was right beside him, both boys sleeping awkwardly on the king bed next to you in their angled positions. 

Pope and Cleo were curled up on one loveseat, Kiara claiming the other for herself. They had all had a chance to shower and change into fresh clothes, scrubbing the last few days from their skin before the exhaustion caught up.

Sarah took a seat next to Rafe on the couch, a steaming cup of tea in between her hands as she observed the sight ahead of her. The only noise in the room was the steady noise of your heart rate on the monitor. 

“Thank you for doing this,” Sarah spoke quietly so as to not wake anyone up. She herself was exhausted too, but there was a lot that needed to be said and she didn’t want Rafe to stew in his thoughts alone. 

Truth be told, none of them could handle losing you. You were the glue that held this entire group together and you’d been the missing piece to fill their puzzle. It would create an inevitable crack in the environment that Sarah wasn’t confident they could continue with. 

Sarah Cameron couldn’t live without you. She refused to. And even though you hadn’t woken up in those long eighteen hours, she still had faith. You were so strong, physically and mentally, that she knew you would come back to her. 

“Don’t thank me,” Rafe sighed, his head dropping to focus on his bandaged hand. “I don’t…I don’t deserve any thanks for practically being the reason this all happened.”

“Rafe-”

“If I didn’t shoot Sheriff Peterkin, would we be sitting here?”

The question stunned Sarah to silence and she suddenly didn’t have words. Would they? Definitely not. Would her dad be alive? Big John? Would she still have Wheezie? What would’ve become of her relationship with John B? Would they even have Cleo?

Sarah shook her head, clearing the spiral thought train that was forming. “Rafe, we can’t live in the past. Everything happens for a reason, whether we want to accept it or not. We can’t change it.”

She looked over at her big brother and realized his eyes were teary. With a sigh, she shifted closer to him to lean on his shoulder, the position making her nostalgic for a time when they shared secrets and deep conversations as younger teens. 

“I miss Dad. I miss him a lot, but I’ve realized I missed the version of him we had as kids. The one that would let us eat ice cream from the carton. The one that made breakfast and eggs before driving us to sports practice. The version of him from these past few years, I don’t recognize. And that’s a hard truth to come to terms with, and I don’t know if I ever will. But Rafe, the life in front of me right now-” She paused, her gaze narrowing on John B’s slumped form against the head of the bed and her hand unconsciously moved to her stomach. “I want it more than anything in the world.”

Rafe looked over at her in a way he hadn’t in years. He looked at her like his little sister, the one he’d been so excited to hold as a toddler. The one he’d kept a protective eye over for so long. The one he argued with, and teased, and laughed with. He was still Rafe, and she was still Sarah. No matter what they’d gone through, they always had each other (sometimes more so than others).

“I’m really proud of you,” Sarah continued. “I know it’s not easy to dig yourself out of the manipulation in your head, but you’re doing it and that’s what matters.”

Rafe chewed on his lip at the sentiment. He’d never been told that unless he’d done something against his values, against his will. But she was right, he was trying, and he hoped it would be enough for now.

--

One thing was for certain, JJ needed a chiropractor. Between all of the collisions with water, sleeping in places not designed for sleeping, and the constant running, he was overdue for a realignment. 

Hours had passed since Sarah and Rafe had conversed and the siblings were now asleep on the couch, leaning into each other. JJ had woken up sometime after, needing some water and to use the bathroom before he settled back into your side opposite John B. 

The steady rise and fall of your chest reminded him that you were still fighting and hadn’t given up on him just yet. The doctor had reassured your mini-coma was your body’s way of fighting the injuries and exhaustion you’d pent up in the past few days to weeks, and right now all you could really do, was wait.

JJ hated waiting. He’d never been good with patience. The anxious part of him wanted to act immediately to get things out of the way, so sitting here, watching you, was torturous. 

“I miss you, sweet girl,” He sighed to himself, reaching to hold your hand in his own. Your fingers were much warmer, much more lively than they had been a day ago. He wasn’t giving up yet and neither were you.

“I miss you and you’re right next to me, and that doesn’t matter. The thought of going back home without you, and… in our room. Your side of the bed, our stuff, I-” JJ paused as he choked up with the image. “Your favorite snacks in the pantry, or-or that nasty coffee flavor you insist on buying. Your hammock. It’s not… it wouldn’t be the same without you. We wouldn’t be the same without you.”

JJ’s hushed whispers turned into quiet cries as he continued to talk in hopes that it would bring you back to him. What he didn’t intend, was to wake John B, but unfortunately, your brother was too close to not hear the intimate words JJ was spewing. 

As unofficial Pogue leader, John B was keeping it together for the sake of everyone else. But as John Booker Routledge, as your brother and protector and confidant, he was ready to break. There had been way too many close calls, and as Sarah pulled him off the ground kicking and screaming when Rafe carried you away, John B’s resolve shattered. Between losing Sarah and now you, it wasn’t fair.

“Hey,” The Routledge boy’s voice was raspy as he sat up straight and cracked his neck with a groan. “You okay?”

JJ sniffled, running his sleeve across his face and nodded. “Yeah, sorry. Just couldn’t sleep.”

John B tried to stretch out a bit, catching sight of Sarah and Rafe as he did. There would be time for long-winded conversations and apologies, but only after you woke up. Your brother was thankful for the quick thinking and action when he wasn’t in the right state to do so, but that didn’t mean Rafe was on his good side.

“I miss her and she’s right here,” JJ sighed and looked up at the ceiling to try and prevent his tears. “I can’t do this, I need her.”

John B stayed quiet, his eyes drifting to look at you in your peaceful state. He hated the bruises and hollow look in your skin. “I miss her too.”

The sad reality was Groff was still out there, and he got away with the crown. John B didn’t even care. All he cared about was that you woke up and he would sit here every day until you did. Now, they just had to buy time. Going back to OBX would be fine? Maybe? I mean if they gave Shoupe info on Groff, hopefully, JJ’s charges would drop and they could find a different way to save Poguelandia… but John B didn’t know, and he hated not knowing.

“I just need her to wake up and tell me it’ll be fine,” JJ continued, his fingers tugging at his unruly hair. He’d taken the fastest shower of his life so he could be back by your side as quickly as possible. 

The poor kid had been beating himself up since Pope pulled him off the ground. He should’ve reacted faster, killed Groff when he had the chance, and attacked him before he even thought to get near you. There was so much that could’ve gone differently and JJ just blamed himself for it all. 

JJ couldn’t stop replaying your conversation in his head. Your wish would be for him to be happy and safe, but he wouldn’t be happy if you weren’t here. He’d never get over the guilt in his stomach right now.

Wounds would heal and decisions would be made but moving on? Getting over you? That would be impossible. Unthinkable. 

“God,” JJ laughed to himself, his fingers running up and down your arm gently like he would do to lull you to sleep. “She said she’d never leave, right? Would-”

His words were stolen from his throat as the monitor’s beeping changed to something more upbeat. He looked up at John B in shock, feeling your fingers twitch in his hand before he forced himself to look down at your face, his blue eyes meeting his favorite color in yours. 

“I would haunt your ass, but I guess it’s your lucky day, huh?”

--

a/n: i tOLD Y'ALL I FIX SHIT IN THIS HOUSE U BEST BELIEVE THAT

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[dewdropdinosaur]

Smutmas Day 5 - Stuff Your Stocking

Alastor x Reader

(Third Person POV) Summary: You are in a brand new relationship with Alastor, so it concerns you when he dips out of the annual Christmas party at the Hotel. Only when you go to check on him do you find the reason for his disappearance...and his hard-on. Warnings: P in V sex, outfits(Stockings), established relationship, biting kink, cuss words, etc. MDNI, 18+. You're responsible for your own media consumption. Requested by the beautiful and my internet wifey @kewpikayo

The holiday event at the Hazbin Hotel was nothing short of dazzling. Strings of colored lights bathed the grand ballroom in a warm glow, and the faint scent of cinnamon and pine mingled with the faint sulfur of the underworld. Guests of all shapes and sizes mingled, their laughter and chatter blending harmoniously with the jazzy holiday tunes being performed on stage.

Charlie had outdone herself organizing the event, and the staff—though reluctant at first(ahem..Husk)—had embraced the festive cheer. Y/N stood near the refreshment table, her eyes scanning the room. The outfit she'd chosen for the evening, a festive red mini skirt paired with thigh-high stockings and a cozy sweater, had drawn more attention than she'd anticipated. It’s not like she was the skimpiestly dressed in Hell but no matter. While different from her usual attire, the skirt had shrunk in the wash, the thigh-highs an attempt to cover the skin that would have been more bare. 

But she couldn't help noticing that one particular demon seemed distracted.

Alastor stood near the edge of the room, cane in hand. His typically sharp grin was absent, replaced with a contemplative expression as he watched the revelry from a distance. Y/N's heart twisted in concern. They'd only recently begun navigating the uncertain waters of their relationship, and she couldn't help but worry that something was bothering him.

Gathering her resolve, Y/N made her way toward him. Alastor turned slightly, catching her approach out of the corner of his eye, and his face did something unexpected—it softened, then quickly morphed into his more common unreadable smile. What she couldn't see was the way his fingers tightened around his cane or the way his mind raced as he caught another glimpse of her outfit.

Y/N tilted her head. "Alastor? Are you okay?" she asked softly.

He chuckled, the sound a touch higher-pitched than usual. "Oh, my dear, I'm quite fine. Just stepping away to enjoy the ambiance. These sorts of festivities can be a tad…much, don't you think?"

She frowned slightly. “Too much? I thought you loved entertaining."

His crimson gaze flicked to hers, and for a moment, he seemed to lose his usual composure. "Oh, I do, but there are... distractions tonight," he admitted vaguely, the smile never leaving his face.

Before Y/N could press him further, possibly asking whether it was the strobe lights or Angel’s very loud Italian singing, Alastor turned and began walking toward one of the quieter halls. Concerned, she decided to follow. 

"Alastor, wait!" she called, hurrying after him. Unfortunately, the polished floor was slicker than she'd anticipated, and as she tried to catch up, her footing slipped.

"Y/N, what are y—!" Alastor began to ask, but he didn't have time to finish. She collided with him in a flurry of movement, and before either of them could react, they ended up on the floor in an unexpected heap. Y/N was sprawled atop him, her hands braced against his chest, while Alastor lay beneath her, utterly speechless.

The world seemed to freeze. Y/N's face flushed a deep crimson as she realized the position they were in. "Oh my gosh, I—I’m so sorry!" she stammered, trying to push herself off him.

Alastor, for once, was at a loss for words. His usual confidence was nowhere to be found as he stared up at her, his cheeks tinted a rare shade of pink. "Y/N," he said finally, his voice uncharacteristically soft, "while I appreciate your enthusiasm, might I suggest a less... dramatic approach next time?"

Despite her embarrassment, she couldn't help but laugh, the sound breaking the tension. "I didn't mean to tackle you!" she protested, finally managing to scramble to her feet and offering him a hand.

Alastor took it, his long fingers wrapping around hers as he allowed her to help him up. His grin returned, though there was a slight nervous edge to it. "Perhaps it was fate," he teased, brushing imaginary dust from his coat. "Or perhaps the hazards of such an outfit? It’s positively... eye-catching."

Y/N blinked, realization dawning as she noticed his lingering gaze. Her cheeks burned hotter than before. "Wait... was that why you walked away? My skirt?”

Alastor coughed into his hand, his usual composure faltering once more. "Well, my dear, it would be remiss of me not to notice such a... striking ensemble.”

Her laughter rang out again, this time more genuine. "Alastor—,” she said, though her voice carried an affectionate lilt.

"Ah, but you adore me for it, do you not?" he replied, his grin growing wider as he offered his arm. “Now my dear, I do believe you owe an apology for cascading on me to the floor.”

“Oh, of course. I am so sorry, Al—“

“I did not mean with your words, cher.” Leaning in closer, his voice dropping to a more sinister octave, Alastor’s words spoke with an interesting promise. “Though I would not mind your noises.”

With a quick snap and a misting of green static, the pair appeared in Alastor’s room. Y/N’s hands came to grip the lapels of her boyfriend’s suit jacket, attempting to ground themselves after the sudden transport. No matter how many times they did it, Y/N could never get used to the sensation. 

The large king-sized bed lay promisingly in the center of the room, red and black linen sheets draped softly around the surface of the mattress. Small embroidered details lay within the pillowcases and bed skirts, though barely visible. Fitting for someone with Alastor’s aesthetic. Taking the hint, Alastor walked their bodies to the king-sized bed and laid Y/N’s down on the sheets. Now with back flush against the mattress, she wasted no time in capturing her lips to his, amazed by the darkened desire that lay within his eyes. 

Clawed fingers traced down the fabric of her skirt, fiddling with the hem before sliding it off her legs along with her underwear. Raising her hips in an attempt to help him also with her stockings, Alastor pushed her back down on the mattress. Breaking from the kiss for a quick moment, voice laced with a nearly untraceable growl, he spoke.

“The stockings stay on, my dear. You look ravishing,”

Working his way down, his face ended between her thighs. His eyes widened at the glittering slick that painted her hole. His hot breath on her already weeping cunt made her shiver in anticipation. Moaning at the sensation, Y/N brought her lips to kiss and nip at the corner of Alastor’s collarbone. They had never ventured this far in their relationship, and by all means, Alastor had never really brought up the idea of being intimate. But it was needless to say, the current predicament excited her to no end. 

Without warning, Alastor hoisted her legs up on his shoulders, unbuttoning his pants in a quick move. Carefully, as if it would cause him to bust just at the sensation, he massaged the tip of his cock against her hole. Squirming at the stimulation but not allowing a moment to think, Alastor sunk into her warm cunt with one stroke causing Y/N to bite Alastor’s neck accidentally at the sudden intrusion. 

“Fuck, cher—“

“Gosh, Al, you like that?” Y/N’s tone wasn’t harsh in the slightest, if anything, it was absolutely debauched at the thought her boyfriend liked to be a bit. Made sense considering his life choices but still. Her hands came to tangle themselves at the nape of his neck, tugging softly as Alastor’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and his thrusts became short and sloppy. 

“That’s it, darling~. Go on, you can do it—“

Her body acted on command, letting out moans of sobbing pleasure as her release hit like a freight train. Not mere seconds later did he find his own high; cumming hard into her tight cunt, enjoying the way her spasming pussy clenched around him with want. The room was silent save for the sound of soft squelching and heavy breaths, each allowing the other a moment of rest. 

Soon, Alastor slowly pulled out, already missing the warmth from the moment before. After conjuring a towel and cleaning both of them up, Alastor tucked himself back into his pants and extended a hand to his lover.

"Now, shall we rejoin the festivities? I believe I owe you a dance—one where you promise not to trip us both."

[dilfluvrr10]

Joost x music journalist!reader where joost invites them for a show and they thinks its for work but actually he did it bc he likes them 🤭

Guysss I just wrote thisss. This is my first fanfiction I've ever written, pls pls pls feel free to send through any feedback good and bad. I really hope I managed to satisfy your request. Thank you <3

Lmk if you're interested in a Part 2

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮ The Interview ╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

I looked through my closet unsure of what to wear, do I go concert or casual tonight? This was going to be huge for my career, interviewing THE Joost Klein, so of course I was stressing over every detail. I settled on a classic little black dress, nothing too much, enough to make a good first impression. I glanced at the time repeatedly while doing my makeup, the closer it crept to 7:00pm, the more anxiety started eating at me. I packed my bag and drove to the venue, practicing each and every question, my facial expressions, my laugh, my smile, every detail. I admit, Joost was an attractive man, a confident man, and a great musician, maybe that’s why I was so worked up. That’s definitely why I was so worked up. I’d been following Joost’s career before his stardom reached an all time high after Eurovision, I had to remind myself to keep my composure and leave any fangirling behind.

When I received the invitation I was absolutely thrilled, jumping up and down like I was a teenage girl again. However, it was different from the usual press releases I’ve received, addressed to me specifically instead of my publication. Despite my usual professional demeanour, I couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement. When I finally arrived at the venue my anticipation only intensified. I glanced in the rear view mirror one last time, ensuring every hair was in place, took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. I had been instructed to enter through the same way production entered and meet Joost in the green room before he was expected on stage. Backstage was buzzing, ensuring everything for tonight’s performance was perfect. I navigated through the organized chaos, my heart pounding with each step closer to the green room.

There he was sitting around a table laughing and joking with his friends in Dutch. “Heyyy you’re here! I’m so happy you came”, his signature smile plastered on his face causing one of my own in response. He told his friends we were doing an interview and to so kindly leave, each one greeting me with that European charm before exiting the room. He gestured for me to sit down where comfortable. He sat loosely on the couch, adorned in black jeans, a white button up paired with a black tie and his signature thick rimmed glasses and gloves to tie it all together. God black was his colour. His cuffs rolled up, revealing a scatter of tattoos on his forearms and biceps. I sat on the chair closest to him but not on the couch next to him, trying to keep it as professional as possible. I really wanted to squeal, ask him for a photo and tell him all about how much his music resonated with me.

“Thank you so much for the invitation, I really appreciate this Joost”, my nerves slipped away as we began talking, his energy warm and inviting. “No, no, I’ve wanted to meet you for a while now actually…” his words hung in the air, his eyes darted around my face as if he was unsure how I would react. “Really, you know me?” I was stunned by the idea of Joost being aware of my work. A soft smile played at the corners of his lips as he nodded. “You’re works amazing, you have this way of talking to people that just…opens them up, you know?”, the sincerity of his words hit me hard. My heart fluttered and I felt my professionalism slowly decay. He shifted in his seat adjusting his pants and clearing his throat. He was feeling the change of mood too. As I thought of something to say to change the subject I noticed his gaze kept falling to my lap. My dress had lifted a bit, my thighs exposed a little. I began to feel hot and bothered, my cheeks burning red, his subtle smirk didn’t escape my notice, only adding to my discomfort. He clocked on to my embarrassment, shamefully, it fed him with confidence. “I used to watch your videos on YouTube, when you were working independently. Seeing you now here in front of me…you’ve really, grown up” he cooed with a meaning I couldn’t quite grasp. I cleared my throat, trying to shake off the rush of heat that grew in my body. “Thank you Joost, that means a lot coming from you,” I replied, hoping to steer the conversation back to professional grounds. “So, how are you feeling about tonight’s concert? Any pre-show rituals?”

He chuckled, the sound sultry and pleasant. “Just hanging out with my friends, like you saw. We try to keep it light and fun. Music is about connecting with people, so I try to keep that spirit alive before I go on stage.” I nodded, jotting down notes even though I recorded interviews on my phone. It was more to keep my hands busy and give me something to focus on other than his heavy gaze. Our conversation flowed easily after that, and the interview wrapped up nicely. He stood up, offering his hand to help me up from the chair. His touch was warm, lingering just a moment longer than necessary. “I’m glad we finally got to meet,” his eyes held mine for a heartbeat longer before he glanced away, a hint of shyness creeping into his demeanour.

Just then, one of his crew members popped their head into the room, announcing that it was time for Joost to get ready. He turned to me, his smile back in full force. “Enjoy the show. I’ll make sure you have a great view.”

I smiled back, my heart fluttering again. “I’m sure I will.”

[anna-the-undertaker]

Adrenaline

When the human body is under a great amount of stress, induced by fear or anger or desperation, the brain releases adrenaline into the bloodstream in an effort to keep us alive, forcing our body to perform at its full potential.

Part 2: Indomitable Will

MC and Luke navigated the bustling streets of the Devildom, the perpetual night casting everything in shades of deep blue and violet. The young angel’s face lit up with excitement as they gathered the last of the ingredients for his newest culinary creation. The market was alive with activity, but as they made their way back, the lively atmosphere took a dark turn.

They had just turned down a quieter path when a group of demons ambushed them. Before MC could react, rough hands grabbed them both, dragging them deep into the Devildom’s forbidden forest—a place so dangerous that even seasoned demons avoided it.

MC's heart pounded as they were forced further into the dark, twisted woods. They knew the others would come looking for them, but the forest was vast and treacherous. The demons had chosen their hiding spot well.

As they were shoved into a clearing, MC looked at Luke, who was trembling beside them. They knew what had to be done. With a surge of determination, MC created an opening in the demon's formation, shoving Luke through it.

"Run, Luke! Get help!" MC shouted, their voice strained with urgency.

Luke hesitated, his eyes wide with fear. "I can't leave you here! They'll—"

"RUN!" MC screamed, just as one of the demons lunged for Luke.

Finally, Luke obeyed, sprinting before taking flight with tears streaming down his cheeks. MC turned back to face the demons, their body trembling with fear but fueled by something stronger—the need to protect the young angel and everyone they had come to love.

As the demons advanced, a whirlwind of thoughts rushed through MC's mind. They saw the faces of all the friends they had made since coming to the Devildom: Diavolo’s encouraging smile, Barbatos’ quiet support, Lucifer’s stern but caring gaze, and the warmth of each brother and the angels who had become their family.

They had already lost so much, survived so much, and learned so much. Diavolo, Barbatos, and Lucifer had worked tirelessly for the success of this exchange program, striving for peace between realms. They had all fought so hard for every new experience, every friendship, all the knowledge that had been gained.

MC felt the weight of it all—the importance of what they had built together. Their instincts screamed at them to run, to find safety, but they couldn’t. Not now. They had to fight. They had to protect what mattered.

The first blow landed hard against their side, knocking the wind out of them. Pain exploded through their body, but they couldn’t fall. Not here. Not now. If they died, Luke would blame himself, and the others... it would destroy them.

Fueled by a surge of desperation, MC fought back with everything they had. Their heart raced, adrenaline flooding their system, making them move faster, hit harder, and react with a precision they didn’t know they possessed. Their magic, bolstered by the pacts they had formed, surged within them, giving them strength beyond what they thought possible.

Time lost meaning in the forest's darkness. It felt like hours had passed, but it could have been mere minutes. The forest's living energy twisted around them, making everything uncertain and surreal. They fought until the demons lay sprawled on the forest floor, barely breathing and unconscious.

MC stood there, gasping for breath, their body screaming in pain. Every muscle ached, their vision blurred, and their head spun. They looked up at the stars that peeked through the canopy of trees, trying to calm themselves, but the adrenaline had worn off, and the shaking in their limbs returned with a vengeance. They felt both heavy and weightless, and they marveled at how they were still standing.

"My magic most likely," they whispered to themselves, their voice barely audible. "I was told the pacts would change me in some ways..."

In the distance, MC heard the sound of shouts. They turned their head weakly towards the noise, catching sight of a group rushing towards them. The figures became clearer, and relief washed over them as they recognized Solomon, Simeon, Diavolo, Barbatos, Lucifer, and the others. Luke was with them, tears streaming down his face.

"I'm so happy you're okay..." MC murmured, their voice soft and strained as they smiled at Luke.

No one said anything at first. They were all staring at MC, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief.

"Why is everyone staring at me like I've grown three heads?" MC wondered, glancing down at themselves.

They were covered in blood—some of it theirs, but most of it from the demons they had just faced. They looked back at the crumpled forms of the demons around them. One of them groaned, clutching his side in pain.

MC turned back to the others, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over them. Their vision darkened at the edges, and they swayed on their feet.

"Can someone help me... please..." MC's voice was faint, barely a whisper. "I think I'm gonna—"

Before they could finish, their knees buckled, and they collapsed. Several of the brothers rushed forward to catch them while the others moved to deal with the demons.

The group was stunned by the scene before them. MC’s injuries were significant, but the damage they had inflicted on the demons was far greater. They all knew MC was strong—they had learned that humans were far from weak—but this... this was something else entirely.

As they carried MC back, the reality of what had happened settled over them like a shroud. The most important lesson had been learned: humans were peaceful only when they chose to be, not because they had to be. And MC had just proven that to devastating effect.

[eternalbuckley]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ WISTERIA VINES. (an aemond targaryen series)

— chapter one: Your Romeo. Your Juliet.

SUMMARY: You and Aemond find out that you got the roles of Romeo and Juliet but didn't know yet about the other one. You only found out that Aemond will be Romeo through a phone call with Helaena. And Aemond got the news about you from his older brother. How do you both react to these news?

word count: 4,415

genre: just some tiny angst i think? | no specified reader, queer!reader, bipoc!reader and plus-size!reader friendly

warnings/tropes: modern au, Y/N and they/them pronouns are used a few times, english is not my first language, slightly proofread and edited — if I forgot something, please let me know!

a/n: i'm more than excited to finally share the first chapter of this series. i've been working on this whole project for a while now and i really hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as i enjoy creating it! this will be my last fanfic this year, so i hope you'll have a great start into the new year or had a great start (whenever you're reading this) <3 reblogs, feedback and comments are highly appreciated and welcomed! ♡

disclaimer: please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work or post this anywhere without my consent. i don’t give you my permission to use my writing for any ai related things, don’t do it. do not translate my work and post it anywhere — i give you no permission to do that. i only post my stories here, so if you find my work anywhere else please let me know!

dividers by saradika-graphics

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ navigation | wisteria vines masterlist | main hotg masterlist | series taglist

You nibbled nervously on your nails while you sat on your couch in front of your opened laptop, rocking with your leg as you waited for an e-mail from the production team that produces the ballet show of Romeo and Juliet of the upcoming ballet season. Ever since you’ve first seen a performance of this production, you wanted to be a part of the ballet as well, especially in the role of Juliet. You’ve always dreamed of it and worked hard for your dream.

You’ve already worked with the choreographer before and would love to be able to work with her again. You’ve worked with her on two different productions before; the Nutcracker and Sleeping Beauty. You loved working with her and were fascinated by how she was able to put her visions into reality.

You first got into ballet shortly after you turned five and started having ballet classes. It didn’t fill you with joy in your early stage of being a ballet dancer, you sort of disliked it, but you grew to love the art of this dance over the years. One of the main reasons for falling in love with ballet was a performance you saw with your family in a theatre when you were almost seven years old. You were fascinated by the dancers, the costumes and the whole representation of the stage. It was magical for you and since then, you were determined to get better each day, hoping you’d be as good as the dancers you saw on stage. Eventually, you were allowed to use pointe shoes for the first time when you were thirteen years old – causing you to be the happiest person.

Officially, you have been a professional ballet dancer for a few years now. When you were seventeen, you had the opportunity to be able to dance in a bigger role in a Nutcracker production, which changed you into a better person and was a big step for your ballet career. It was one of your favourite times you’ve ever had, thanks to different people who were involved in the whole process.

“Come on…” You whispered to yourself and refreshed your e-mail inbox for the hundredth time today, hoping there would be an e-mail for the production. You wished there would be a positive message – a message which would tell you that you were a part of the production in the next ballet season. You’d be happy enough to be a part of the production in general, but your main aim was to get cast as Juliet. But after all, you would be happy either way.

You stood up with a sigh and walked into your kitchen to get yourself a glass of water. While you poured the water into your glass, you got a notification on your phone – an e-mail.

‘Casting Results for Romeo and Juliet’

You widened your eyes and immediately sat down your glass on the counter to sprint to your laptop and refresh your inbox to read the e-mail. Your pulse increased and your palms started sweating as your nerves almost exploded. You deeply breathed in, opened the e-mail and read the first lines.

“Hello Y/N,

we are more than happy to tell you that you have been selected as our Juliet for the Romeo and Juliet ballet of the following season. Congratulations!

The complete casting list will be released in the following days. The date for the first rehearsal will be sent to you with the official casting announcement – please make sure you’re prepared for everything!

Until then, relax as much as you can. We’re sure everything will be more than perfect this season! We’re very excited for it.

See you at the first rehearsal,

your production team :)”

You reread the lines multiple times, you couldn’t entirely believe it yet that your dream has just come true. “OH MY GOD!” You happily screamed out loud, jumping on the spot multiple times – you were more than happy. A few tears slipped out of your eyes while you unlocked your phone to call your best friend – Helaena Targaryen. Your hands shook a bit from feeling overwhelmed by the news.

You met her through ballet classes you took together when you were nine and ten years old, and you became best friends very quickly, grew up together and were inseparable. You were thankful to have her at your side. You were there for each other whenever you needed each other and built each other up whenever the other one wasn’t doing well. Especially when Helaena had a knee injury when she was eighteen and sadly had to give up on ballet. She wasn’t doing well mentally and lost her love for it. For a while, she tried to avoid it at every cost after her injury. Even you. You never blamed her for acting the way she did, you understood her. You would probably act the same way if you had to stop the thing you loved because of an injury.

It wasn’t an easy time for Helaena, but over time, she found other interests, and slowly got happier again when she discovered her interest in fashion and designing. It filled her with joy to create her own clothes and bring her ideas to life – it was Helaena’s passion. Being able to design clothes in the way she wanted brought her self-confidence back and gave her a voice. While you thrived in the world of ballet, she thrived in the world of fashion. You support each other in every step and success you’re able to make. Over the years, she had designed your costumes for different performances you were a part of. Seeing you in her creations whenever you danced on stage made her proud. Both of you moved in together shortly after your nineteenth birthday and had been living together for six years by now.

Your phone rang a few times until Helaena eventually appeared on your display. She wasn’t home because she was currently in Winterfell for a design job.

She smiled at you and leaned against the bed headboard in her hotel room. “Hi babe, what’s–“ Helaena began to speak but immediately sat up and gasped as soon as she saw your happy expression, “Did you get a part?!”

You nodded quickly while you walked over to the couch in your living room and sat down cross-legged. “YES! I will be a next Juliet,” you grinned proudly and excitedly while you put your phone against the plant pot that stood on the coffee table.

She clapped, “Oh my god, yes!! Congratulations, babe, you deserve it so so much,” she matched your excitement but then became a bit more serious for a moment, “Wait… Do you already know who your Romeo will be?”

You shook your head, “Not yet, the e-mail said that the complete casting list will be announced soon. I don’t know when, but I hope soon, and I hope it will be someone who’s…” You noticed her serious expression and how she nervously bit down on her lip, “Wait… What do you know?” You furrowed your eyebrows – you were confused.

“Nothing…” She cleared her throat to hide the nervous tone in her voice, but you knew she was lying because she wasn’t looking at you anymore.

“Helaena,” you said warningly, “Tell me what you know?”

She sighed and nodded her head. “Aemond just called me before you did,” she began, and your face faltered for a moment – you knew what this meant, “He will be your Romeo.”

“Oh… Uhh,” you cleared your throat in surprise, “That’s fine. Really. I’m sure it will be fine, I mean… He’s a wonderful dancer, and I adore his passion, but…”

“You’re afraid it will be weird between you? Considering that you’re not together anymore?” She interrupted you without a second thought. Her face showed sympathy as she asked you a question you tried to ignore for yourself.

Your shoulders were slightly slumped, and you nervously bit down on your lower lip. “Yeah,” you nodded slowly and shrugged. “But we’re professionals, and I’m sure we’ll be able to work through it in the next months. I doubt there will be any problems; we ended on good terms. In some way. We agreed to stay friends, remember?” You inhaled and put a few hair strands behind your ears.

“Babe,” she tilted her head, “You two can’t really be in the same room with each other. Every time you stare at each other like two lovesick puppies that obviously still love each other. When was it the last time you actually saw each other?”

You were aware that you and Aemond were extremely professional and wouldn’t let personal feelings ruin any experiences for your careers. But even if you agreed to stay friends and that you wouldn’t let any personal feelings between you, you had to stop dancing with him entirely. The weird tension between you was too heavy after your breakup. You and Aemond used to be dance partners, even before you got into a relationship. You only hoped it would end well.

“I don’t know. It probably has been a few months by now.” With an apprehensive sigh, you leaned against the backrest of your couch and placed a cushion on your lap to play with the fabric. “And besides, the moments you mentioned probably happened shortly after we broke up. I’m sure he and I moved on and can be professional. You know how important our careers are for us.”

Helaena hummed teasingly and nodded her head, “Of course, of course…. I’ll pretend I believe it now.” She chuckled as you rolled your eyes and huffed. If she were here, you’d have thrown the cushion at her. “Whatever! This only means that I’ll finally be able to design another dress for you,” she smiled and clapped excitedly. You chuckled and smiled at her through the screen, her excitement made you happier.

You talked for a few more minutes with her before she had to end the call because she got called by one of her clients. You sighed after the call ended. This was not what you had planned. This was not what you thought would happen. You weren’t exactly sure how to feel about it that you’d be dancing together with Aemond, especially in such a story as Romeo and Juliet. If you were honest, it didn’t bother you that you’d have to dance with him, but you were nervous. More than nervous that something might not work out in the way it should be.

You weren’t lying when you told Helaena that you and Aemond decided to stay friends, but she wasn’t lying either. You barely saw each other or were able to stay in the same room for long without staring at each other when the other one wasn’t looking. There were still feelings between you. Feelings that both of you tried to ignore and deny, even if it was obvious that they were still there. Especially to Helaena – she knew what you and Aemond still felt for each other. She deeply hoped that you would get closer again someday and maybe be honest with yourselves and each other.

You met Aemond and the rest of Helaena’s family when you were having a sleepover at her place for the first time when you were ten – it was like a little celebration of your friendship. During the first years of your friendship with Helaena, you barely talked with Aemond or any of her brothers, you barely knew them, only the things Helaena had told you about back then. The interests were too different, even if Aemond was into ballet and a ballet dancer as well. You couldn’t really find a way to connect with him.

Surprisingly, you had talked with Aegon more than with Aemond, despite the slight age gap. Aegon was like an older brother to you and treated you like a second sister – even if he technically had two already. He was happy to see that Helaena had someone who shared her interests and didn’t judge her for the way she was. You had met the other half of their family only a handful of times so far. Even if everyone tried to be polite with each other as much as they could, you were able to notice the tension between everyone – some had more and some had less tension, but it was there.

But over the years and the older you were, you grew closer to Aemond and became friends. You found interest in each other and realised that both of you had sides inside you that neither of you were aware of. You had been spending more time with him after Helaena had her injury and wasn’t able to dance anymore. Whenever you weren’t with her, you spent your time in the studio with her younger brother. You started to like him more after you got to know each other better. You trusted him, he trusted you. Both of you motivated each other for your dancing and after some time, you tried to dance together, and it was like you were made for each other. Dancing with him always seemed more than easy and the chemistry between you made it even more magical. You supplemented each other, which resulted in both of you being able to dance in a Nutcracker production together when you two were seventeen. It was the start of the best time of your lives.

Both of you were able to turn your hobby into your career and danced together in many productions, even the teams behind every production were mesmerised by the chemistry between you. Many times, you were asked by other dancers if you two were in a relationship – which you had to deny every time. Although, you had a crush on each other, but you never told each other, even if everyone around you seemed to notice the underlying feelings between you.

Especially Helaena noticed it, then and even now, and she loved teasing you about it. Even Daeron and Aegon seemed to notice something after some time. They cracked jokes about it many times before, about how well you’d fit together. Both of them didn’t even notice the glares Aemond gave them or how his and your cheeks heated up. Nevertheless, it took some more time until Aemond got the courage to officially ask you out on a date when you were rehearsing for a production. You didn’t realise in the first place that he was asking you out but once you did, you agreed happily.

You were the one who was able to bring out a happier and more cheerful side of Aemond, one he mostly only shared and barely let out due to different things that had happened in his life. Especially since he was ten years old and got into an incident with his younger nephew and lost his left eye to it. Since then, he has been wearing a prosthetic eye, which brought him his own difficulties from time to time. There had been days when the pain would be unbearable for him, and nothing could help him to ease the pain. Before he had been with you, he wanted to get through this alone and show everyone that he was strong enough, but he slowly let you comfort him and be there for him, the more he trusted you. But even then, there had been days when he pushed you away and wanted to be alone.

In your presence, he was mostly able to forget about his burdens and worries and could feel peaceful because of you. Especially whenever you danced together, he was much calmer and able to forget about his problems during these moments. He may have gotten rude comments about him being a ballet dancer from different people throughout the years, but he paid them no attention. Ballet saved his life in a way only you could understand.

Luckily, your relationship didn’t end because anything negative happened between you. It was rather a decision the two of you had made together almost a year ago, so both of you could focus more on your careers as ballet dancers without any distractions. You had been quite busy with your schedules and barely saw each other that much anymore, given that you and Aemond had to work on different performances and were busy with your training, classes or rehearsals all day. At the time, it was the better decision to part ways and stay friends.

Even if that worked in some way, neither of you wasn’t truly able to move on. Even if you had agreed to stay friends and act normally, it wasn’t easy to see each other afterwards. You kind of grew apart even more and only saw each other rarely. Before and during your relationship, Aemond used to visit you and Helaena a lot, but after your breakup, he rarely stepped into your and Helaena’s apartment. Only if he knew that you weren’t there.

It hurt Helaena to see her younger brother and her best friend growing apart like that, she felt kind of helpless. She didn’t want to get between you, but she understood your decision and tried to be there for each of you as much as she could. Even if it could be difficult for her sometimes – she tried her best, and so did you and Aemond.

After a while of thinking about old memories, you cleared your throat and got up from the couch to distract yourself. You didn’t want to spend the rest of your day thinking about your ex-boyfriend and what you experienced together. You wanted to focus more on being happy that you were finally going to have the opportunity of your life – you were a next Juliet in the ballet world.

You walked into your kitchen and took a sip from the glass you poured yourself before you received the email with the news of the casting. Your phone lit up with a message from Aegon – he congratulated you on getting the part in the production. You smiled and shook your head, Helaena must have texted or called him after her call with her client. You quickly opened the message and replied to him before you started to cook yourself dinner.

Meanwhile, Aemond cut some vegetables for his dinner and was on the phone with Aegon. He just told him that he got the part of Romeo and was more than excited to start the rehearsals – but Aemond didn’t know yet that you were going to be his Juliet. He hoped that the other dancers he’d work with would be as professional as he was.

“How was the first concert, by the way?” Aemond asked his older brother and got a pan out of his kitchen counter – fully unaware that Aegon was texting you.

Aemond furrowed his eyebrows when Aegon remained silent, “Brother?” He placed the pan on the stove and continued to cut the vegetables.

“Hmm? Yeah?” Aegon cleared his throat on the other side of the phone, “Sorry, what did you say?” He changed the position of his body while lying on the couch of his hotel room, a quiet groan leaving his lips as he tried to find a comfortable position.

“Your first concert… How was it?” Aemond repeated his question with a short sigh and added the vegetables to his pan and turned on the stove. But he didn’t get a reply again, which caused him to snap slightly, “Aegon, are you even listening, or what are you so busy with?” Aemond hated it when his brother wasn’t listening or was only half-listening.

“I’m just–“ Aegon paused and thought about his next words for a moment before he continued, “I’m wondering… How does it feel for you to know that you’ll dance with Y/N again?” He furrowed his eyebrows in contemplation.

Aemond stopped his movements, and the grip on his knife tightened with Aegon’s question. “I have no idea what you mean?” He hoped that he just misunderstood Aegon, that it was just some mistake, but how could it be a mistake? Aegon used your name, he must mean you, it could only be you. The words echoed in his mind as he gulped with the consideration that Aegon was telling the truth – that he’d have to dance with you again after everything that happened.

Aegon chuckled nervously. ‘Didn’t he already know that he’d have to dance with Y/N?’ He asked himself and cleared his throat. “I uhh…,” he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, he couldn’t save himself anymore, “Helaena called me before you did and told me that Y/N got the part of Juliet. And you’ll be Romeo. So… They’re your Juliet. I thought… You already knew.”

Aemond stared at his cutting board, did he hear his brother correctly? You were going to be Juliet? No, he must have misheard something, right? This newfound information caused him to stay quiet for a few moments. He wasn’t sure what to do with that information. On one side, he was happy that he got the part of Romeo, but it meant to dance with you. He felt conflicted about it, he knew that dancing with you always felt magical and easy, but he wasn���t sure how it would be after everything that had happened. Even if it has been a year since the end of your relationship, he didn’t know what to expect. He should’ve expected that this could happen, but he didn’t.

“I certainly didn’t know that at all. I only got the news of my part…. They’ll announce the complete list of dancers soon, but I didn’t know about Y/N.”

“Sorry, I–“

Aemond cut him off and shook his head, even if Aegon wouldn’t see it. “Do you know if they know that we will... You know,” he cleared his throat, he felt somewhat tense, “Dance together?”

“I don’t know, perhaps?” Aegon replied, quite unsure of his answer, “If you already have told our sister about it, then I’m quite sure that Y/N knows too by now.”

Aemond hummed and pursed his lips. Should he text you and congratulate you on getting the part for Juliet, or should he wait until you see each other for rehearsal? But what if you didn’t know yet that he would be your Romeo and that you’d find out because of him? It could be strange. After all, he knew what the whole Romeo and Juliet ballet meant to you, so it wouldn’t be weird to congratulate you for getting the role you always wanted, right? But he wasn’t sure if he should reach out to you after all.

“We’ll talk later. I’ll prepare my dinner now. I’m sure that you… Must prepare for your show tonight. Bye,” he quickly ended the call and let out a desperate sigh. This wasn’t how he thought he’d spend his next months.

You haven’t seen each other in months, how would things be between you two? He was excited about the production if he was thinking about his career, but he was nervous about his personal feelings.

Later that evening, you found yourself sitting on the couch of your living room, one of your favourite blankets wrapped around your body while a movie was playing on the TV in the background. You shivered a bit, even if the room was warmed up by the fireplace. But you weren’t sure if you shivered because you were cold or because you were feeling nervous. You stared at the screen of your phone, eyeing the chat with Aemond – you were considering if you should text him or not. After all, you were about to spend your next months together, almost every day until the last performance at least. It wouldn’t hurt to text him quickly, right? But did he even know about you being his Juliet?

Your thumb hovered over the chat with him, your nerves causing your hands to sweat a bit, and your pulse beat strongly in your ears. It was just a simple text; it shouldn’t be anything you should worry about. But your pulse was still beating strongly, your mind flooded with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

Little did you know that Aemond was in the same situation as you while he was lying in his bed. His blanket covered half of his body while only the small lamp on his nightstand brought some light into his bedroom. One arm was placed under his head while he held his phone in his other hand. His thumb hovered over your chat as well. He desperately wanted to text you and let you know how happy he was for you that you were going to be Juliet. He was happy for you, but the thought of dancing with you caused his nerves to hit him deep inside. Aemond rarely felt nervous, but if it involved you? Completely different. You made him feel things no one else could, even after your breakup and not having seen each other in a while. The thought of you increased his pulse immediately.

After some more thinking, both of you tossed your phones away, letting out a long and exasperated sigh. Both of you covered your faces with your hands while your shoulders relaxed. This wouldn’t be easy. If you couldn’t even text each other a simple ‘Congrats’, how should things go when you would dance together? How were you supposed to spend your days together in such intimate moments? You’d have to be close – very close with each other and trust the other one. You were sure you could trust each other, but you were afraid of what else might happen.

And that’s when it hit both of you all of a sudden – he immediately sat up, his shoulders tensed while yours did as well as you both realised what it meant to be dancing as Romeo and Juliet.

You’d probably have to kiss each other.

On stage.

In front of so many people who would watch the performances.

It would most probably be a part of the choreography, and neither of you could change it, even if you could – neither of you wanted it to be changed, either. It is such a delicate moment between the characters and displays the feelings between them – it would be foolish to erase that moment. The next months surely would be interesting.

[andy-15-07]

A Love Unscripted

Summary: Daniel and Y/N, co-stars on a film set, experience an intense connection that quickly blossoms into love. As they navigate their deepening relationship, they find that their off-screen romance becomes the greatest story of their lives.

Paring: Daniel Brühl x reader

Words count: 2907

Daniel Brühl Masterlist | Masterlist

It was a bright, crisp morning in Berlin, and the air buzzed with excitement as the cast and crew gathered for the first day of shooting. This was no ordinary film set—this was the next big project from a critically acclaimed director, and everyone knew it had the potential to be a masterpiece. The title of the film, still under wraps, hinted at a deep, emotional journey that would challenge both the actors and the audience.

Y/N arrived on set with a mix of nerves and excitement, feeling the weight of this opportunity. It was their first major role, and although they had done their fair share of indie films and theater, this was different. The script had resonated deeply with Y/N when they first read it, and they knew this role could be a turning point in their career.

As Y/N stepped out of their trailer, adjusting the costume that already felt like a second skin, they noticed a familiar face on set. Daniel Brühl was speaking with the director, his warm, easygoing smile lighting up his features. Y/N had always admired Daniel’s work from afar—the subtlety of his performances, the way he could convey so much with just a glance or a slight change in his expression. Meeting him in person, however, was something they hadn’t quite prepared for.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N walked over to where Daniel and the director were chatting. As they approached, the director noticed Y/N and smiled broadly. "Ah, Y/N! Perfect timing. Come meet your co-star."

Daniel turned towards Y/N, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow down. His eyes met Y/N’s, and there was an unmistakable spark—a connection that went beyond the usual pleasantries of a first meeting. Daniel’s smile widened, and there was a warmth in his gaze that immediately put Y/N at ease.

“Hi, I’m Daniel,” he said, extending his hand.

“Y/N,” they replied, shaking his hand. The touch lingered a bit longer than necessary, and Y/N felt a strange but pleasant flutter in their chest.

“It’s great to finally meet you,” Daniel continued, his voice smooth and genuinely kind. “I’ve heard a lot of good things about you.”

Y/N chuckled, trying to ignore the heat rising to their cheeks. “Well, I hope I can live up to the hype.”

“I’m sure you will,” Daniel said, his eyes never leaving Y/N’s. “I watched some of your previous work. You’re really talented.”

Y/N was caught off guard by the compliment. “Thank you, that means a lot coming from you.”

Before the conversation could continue, the director clapped his hands. “Alright, let’s get started! We’ve got a lot to cover today.”

The first scene they were shooting was a pivotal one—an intense confrontation between Y/N and Daniel’s characters. The air was charged with anticipation as the crew set up the shot. Y/N took their position, trying to focus on the character’s emotions, but found themselves distracted by the fact that Daniel was standing so close.

Daniel, sensing Y/N’s nervousness, leaned in slightly and whispered, “Don’t worry, just be in the moment. We’ve got this.”

Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath. As soon as the director called “Action,” the transformation was instantaneous. Y/N slipped into their character’s mindset, and the world around them faded away. The scene required them to confront Daniel’s character, emotions running high as they delivered their lines with a mixture of anger and vulnerability.

Daniel was incredible. His performance was raw, powerful, and it drew Y/N in, making it easy to react naturally. The chemistry between them was undeniable, and it crackled with intensity, as if they had known each other for years instead of mere minutes.

When the director finally called “Cut,” there was a moment of stunned silence on set. Y/N blinked, coming back to reality, and noticed that the crew was staring at them with something like awe. The director had a wide grin on his face.

“That was fantastic!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “The chemistry between you two is electric. If we can capture even a fraction of that in every scene, we’ve got something truly special here.”

Y/N glanced over at Daniel, who was still looking at them with that same warm smile. “You were amazing,” he said softly, his eyes full of admiration.

“So were you,” Y/N replied, feeling the flutter in their chest return.

As the day progressed, the initial nerves melted away. Daniel and Y/N fell into an easy rhythm, their connection both on and off-screen growing stronger with each take. Between scenes, they would chat about everything from their favorite films to their experiences growing up in different parts of the world. They discovered they had a lot in common—a shared love for classic cinema, a penchant for exploring new places, and a mutual respect for the craft of acting.

During lunch, they found themselves sitting together, away from the rest of the cast and crew. It wasn’t intentional, but it felt natural, as if they had always gravitated toward each other. As they ate, their conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by laughter and the occasional teasing remark.

“You know,” Daniel said, leaning back in his chair, “I didn’t expect to meet someone who’s as passionate about cinema as I am.”

Y/N smiled, feeling a warmth in their heart. “I could say the same about you. It’s nice to talk to someone who gets it.”

Daniel nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It’s rare to find someone who really understands what it’s like to lose yourself in a role, to feel that connection with the character and the story. I can tell you’re someone who does.”

Y/N looked at Daniel, their eyes meeting once again. There was something in his gaze that made their heart skip a beat—an intensity, a depth that went beyond mere attraction. It was as if they were seeing each other, truly seeing each other, for the first time.

“I feel the same way,” Y/N admitted, their voice soft but sincere. “There’s something about this project, about working with you… It feels different. Special.”

Daniel’s gaze softened, and he reached across the table, his hand gently covering Y/N’s. “I feel it too,” he said quietly. “I think this could be the start of something really wonderful.”

The rest of the shoot passed in a blur. Days turned into weeks, and with each passing moment, Y/N and Daniel’s connection deepened. Their scenes together were electric, filled with a chemistry that was palpable to everyone on set. Off-camera, they spent more and more time together, often finding excuses to stay late after a day of shooting just to talk, to be in each other’s company.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day of filming, they decided to take a walk around the city. The night was cool, the streets quiet as they wandered aimlessly, talking about everything and nothing. Daniel seemed more relaxed than usual, his usual charisma softened by the late hour and the intimacy of the moment.

As they walked along the Spree River, the moonlight reflecting off the water, Daniel suddenly stopped. Y/N, who had been in the middle of a story, turned to look at him in surprise.

“Is everything okay?” Y/N asked, concerned.

Daniel smiled, a little sheepishly. “Yeah, it’s just… I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”

Y/N’s heart began to race, a mixture of curiosity and anticipation bubbling up inside them. “What is it?”

Daniel hesitated for a moment, as if searching for the right words. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

The question caught Y/N off guard. They stared at Daniel, their mind racing. Did they believe in love at first sight? They had always thought it was something that only happened in movies, in the stories they told on screen. But as they looked into Daniel’s eyes, so full of sincerity and something deeper, something that felt a lot like love, they found themselves reconsidering.

“I’m not sure,” Y/N replied honestly. “But… I think I might be starting to.”

Daniel’s smile widened, and without another word, he took a step closer. The distance between them disappeared as he gently cupped Y/N’s face in his hands, his touch warm and reassuring. Y/N’s breath caught in their throat as Daniel leaned in, his lips brushing theirs in a kiss that was soft, tentative, and full of unspoken emotions.

The world seemed to fade away in that moment. There was no film set, no crew, no cameras—just the two of them, standing by the river, lost in each other. The kiss deepened, and Y/N felt a warmth spread through their entire body, a sense of rightness, of inevitability, as if this was exactly where they were meant to be.

When they finally pulled away, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as they shared a quiet moment of connection.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the moment we met,” Daniel admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N smiled, their heart full. “So have I.”

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world forgotten. It was a perfect moment, the kind that Y/N had only ever experienced in the movies they loved so much. But this wasn’t a script, and this wasn’t a role. This was real, and it was happening to them.

As they walked back to their hotel, hand in hand, Y/N couldn’t help but feel like they were living in a dream. But it was better than any dream they could have imagined—because it was real, and it was theirs.

The days that followed were a whirlwind of emotions, both on and off set. Their relationship blossomed quietly, just under the radar of the curious eyes of the cast and crew. Though they kept it professional during filming, it was impossible to hide the subtle glances, the shared smiles, and the way their hands would brush as they passed each other by.

Y/N found themselves falling deeper for Daniel with every passing day. He was kind and considerate, with a sense of humor that caught them off guard and made them laugh when they least expected it. They had never felt this way before, and it scared them as much as it thrilled them. But there was a comfort in Daniel’s presence, a sense of safety that made them feel like everything was going to be okay.

One afternoon, they had a rare day off from shooting, and Daniel suggested they explore the city together. Berlin was full of history and culture, and though Y/N had been there for weeks, they hadn’t had much time to truly experience it.

They spent the day wandering through art galleries and museums, stopping at cafes for coffee and pastries. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how Daniel seemed to know all the best spots, the hidden gems that only locals frequented. He would tell stories about the city’s history, pointing out landmarks and sharing little anecdotes that made Y/N feel like they were getting a private tour from someone who truly loved the place.

As the day turned into evening, they found themselves at a small, cozy restaurant tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. The candlelit atmosphere was intimate, and Y/N could feel their heart racing as they sat across from Daniel, the flickering light casting shadows across his handsome features.

“This place is beautiful,” Y/N said, looking around at the warm, inviting decor. “How did you find it?”

Daniel smiled, a little shyly. “I’ve been here a few times. It’s one of my favorite spots in the city. I thought you might like it.”

Y/N reached across the table, taking his hand in theirs. “I love it. Thank you for bringing me here.”

Daniel’s eyes softened, and he squeezed Y/N’s hand gently. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to say,” he began, his voice serious.

Y/N felt a flutter of nerves in their stomach. “What is it?”

Daniel hesitated for a moment, as if searching for the right words. “I know we haven’t known each other for very long, but… I can’t help the way I feel. From the moment we met, I felt this connection between us, something I’ve never experienced before. I don’t want to scare you off, but I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Y/N’s breath caught in their throat, their heart pounding in their chest. They had felt it too, but hearing Daniel say it out loud made it all the more real, all the more intense.

“I feel the same way,” Y/N admitted, their voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been trying to make sense of it, but… I think I’m falling for you too.”

The relief in Daniel’s eyes was palpable, and he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He stood up from his seat, moving to sit beside Y/N, and pulled them into a gentle embrace. Y/N melted into his arms, feeling the warmth of his body against theirs, the steady beat of his heart under their cheek.

For a while, they just sat there, holding each other, letting the world outside fade away. It was as if time had stopped, leaving just the two of them in their own little bubble of happiness. They talked quietly, sharing their hopes and dreams, their fears and insecurities. It was easy to be vulnerable with Daniel, easy to let down the walls they had built around their heart.

As the evening wore on, they decided to head back to the hotel, their hands intertwined as they walked through the quiet streets. The city was alive with the soft hum of nightlife, but Y/N only had eyes for Daniel, who looked at them with such affection that it made their heart ache in the best possible way.

When they reached Y/N’s hotel room, they lingered outside the door, neither of them wanting the night to end. Daniel brushed a strand of hair from Y/N’s face, his touch tender and full of longing.

“Can I come in?” he asked softly, his voice full of emotion.

Y/N nodded, their heart racing. They opened the door, leading Daniel inside, and as soon as it closed behind them, he pulled them into a deep, passionate kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of all the emotions they had been holding back, all the desire and affection that had been building between them since the day they met.

They stumbled toward the bed, their lips never breaking contact, and as they fell into the soft sheets, Y/N knew this was where they were meant to be—wrapped in Daniel’s arms, lost in the feeling of being loved and cherished by someone who saw them for who they truly were.

The night was a blur of whispered words and tender touches, of shared laughter and quiet moments of connection. When they finally drifted off to sleep, tangled up in each other, Y/N felt a peace they had never known before. It was as if all the pieces of their life had finally fallen into place, and they knew, deep in their heart, that this was just the beginning of something truly beautiful.

The next morning, they woke up to the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains. Daniel was still asleep beside them, his face peaceful and relaxed, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile as they watched him. They had never felt this content, this happy, and they knew they had found something special, something worth holding onto.

As Daniel stirred awake, his eyes meeting Y/N’s with a sleepy smile, they leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “Good morning,” Y/N whispered, their voice full of affection.

“Good morning,” Daniel replied, his voice husky with sleep. He pulled Y/N closer, his arms wrapping around them as if he never wanted to let go. “Last night was… incredible.”

“It was,” Y/N agreed, their heart swelling with emotion. “I don’t want this to end.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Daniel said, his gaze serious. “I meant what I said last night. I’m falling for you, Y/N, and I want to see where this goes. I don’t care about the logistics or what anyone else thinks. All I know is that I want to be with you.”

Tears pricked at Y/N’s eyes as they looked into Daniel’s sincere gaze. They had been so afraid to let themselves fall, but now that they had, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

“I want that too,” Y/N said, their voice choked with emotion. “I want to be with you, Daniel.”

He smiled, a smile so full of warmth and love that it took Y/N’s breath away. “Then let’s make it happen. We’ll figure it out together.”

And so, they did. As the film production continued, so did their relationship, growing stronger with each passing day. They faced the challenges together, navigating the complexities of a public relationship in a private world, but nothing could diminish the connection they shared.

When the film finally wrapped, and it was time to say goodbye to the set and the characters they had brought to life, Y/N and Daniel knew that this was just the beginning of their story. They had found something real, something lasting, and as they walked hand in hand into the next chapter of their lives, they knew they were ready to face whatever came next, as long as they were together.

In the end, it wasn’t just a love story scripted for the screen—it was their love story, one that would continue to unfold in ways they could never have imagined. And as they looked into each other’s eyes, they knew that this was the greatest role they would ever play, not as actors, but as themselves, deeply in love and ready to take on the world, side by side.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

A Misdemeanor Of The Heart (Chapter 14) Human Alastor x Married Reader

Chapter Trigger Warnings: None, really- just lowkey shittyness from Laurence.

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The smile on Alastor’s face pulled wider as he drove, the world passing by as he hummed along with the rumble of the engine. There were few things that felt as good as watching a plan fall into place. It was plain as day that everything was falling into place. 

There was no denying it, though he was sure at this point you still were denying what you were feeling. Everything about the way you acted around him screamed to him he was already winning his little game. It was in your timid looks, glances to him when you thought he couldn’t see. It may as well have been a sign over your head as your protests and flinching away from him gave way to careful eye contact and quiet acceptance. 

His grin twitched wider as he pictured the way you would flush as his hand dipped lower down your back, not indecently low but certainly a bolder move. It surprised him how quickly you were falling into his trap but he supposed it shouldn’t. You were such a meek thing. The way you reacted, he was near sure that you hadn’t experienced kindness or proper courting in your life. 

Alastor turned the wheel, hardly paying attention to the world he was navigating through. He knew the way nearly as well as he knew the way to his own home. There wasn’t much time, and he needed to get himself straightened out. 

Standing on the sidewalk with you earlier that morning, Alastor had suggested a late lunch, more like an early dinner, shared between two friends. It was a bit of a bolder suggestion, far more than stealing you away for a shared cup of coffee.

He had to push, ever so slightly, but after some performative pushback for the sake of propriety, you folded to his will, just as he knew you would. The plan left you enough time to scurry home and make a good start on the cleaning while Alastor made his way nearly halfway across the city. 

Alastor took his time, straightening his jacket in the dirty mirror under Mimzy’s watchful eye. It wouldn’t kill the woman to clean it but he wasn’t in the mood to nettle his long-time friend over the mess, this time at least. Long fingers picked at his hair, pulling strands this way and that as he tried to convince them to lie just a little flatter. 

He didn’t have enough time to really run all the way home and get himself polished up so he drove to Mimzy’s little flat, near to her speakeasy. It was only fair that he invaded her space. Heaven above knew how often she had helped herself to his home. 

“Things goin good then?” She asked as Alastor ran his fingers through his hair, effectively resetting it to start fresh as she handed him a hot comb. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen him primp, but it was infrequent, at best. Or at least it had been. “Ya know, your hair was good three passes ago, right?”

“Things are going swimmingly,” Alastor confirmed, leaving his hair alone after passing the comb through the strands, letting the heat pull the slight curl straighter. “She’s proving to be great entertainment.” 

“And you’re just playing with her?” Mimzy asked, eyebrow raised as she perched herself against the dresser. It was improper for her to have a man like Alastor in her home, let alone her bedroom, without someone to ensure he didn’t take advantage of her, but she had no fear of him. Alastor held no interest in her, though she had tried to win his romantic affections once, long ago. 

“Of course,” Alastor rolled his eyes as he turned away from his reflection, “All just good fun. Lure her away from dear Laurence for a bit and show her some life. Poor thing is just wilting away. You want a supplier who can’t even take care of his wife? Yet you trust him to keep your deliveries coming?” 

“Well, I can’t have you as a supplier.” Mimzy watched him, a small smile on her face. For someone as smart as Alastor was, he sure could be daft at times and about the strangest things, Mimzy realized. How was he unaware of how much you seemed to be more than just a passing toy to him? 

Oh well, Mimzy decided. It wasn’t like anything could come of this. Maybe Alastor’s need for love, want for romance would awaken with you and he could go on and find himself someone proper. 

Each step was measured as you fought the urge to rush down the sidewalk. That would draw the wrong attention to yourself. It boggled your mind that this was the second time you’ve done this. It was wrong. You shouldn’t be sneaking around behind your husband’s back to spend time with anyone, let alone with another man. 

You turned the corner into the alley, bowl hat pulled low over your face and ugly orange shawl wrapped around your shoulders as you let yourself relax a little more. Each step took you further down the dirty alley, shoes clicking against the stones as you approached a dark figure leaning against the back of a car.

“Hello,” you said, fearlessly. What a thought that was? Someone you could speak fearlessly with, even if just in greeting. Alastor had yet to give you a reason to fear his moods or wait to see if he brought a storm with him. He was simply always calm, even-tempered. 

“I’ve got you something, if you think you can hide it?” You could just see Alastor’s smile in the dark, light reflecting off his teeth and shining in his eyes, highlighting them against the rest of his dim features, hidden in shadows. 

“Oh?” you ran your teeth over your bottom lip, trying to convince your heart to calm as it humped around in your chest. “You didn’t need-” 

“Nonsense,” Alastor said, not offering any other information, instead turning to the trunk behind him and twisting the key already seated in the lock. It popped open with a soft thump that reverberated through the small alley. 

The darkness prevented you from seeing the tarp, folded neatly around a saw and tied together with twine, just as Alastor had been counting on. Even if you saw it, he was sure you had no reason to question whatever story he gave you. Men were known to keep strange things in their trunks, items to help with a breakdown. He could come up with something for cover. 

In the trunk’s front sat a round hatbox, covered in a floral pattern that gave away the high end shop it had come from. Along with it was a bag, paper sporting the same floral pattern. 

“For you,” he stepped aside and motioned for you to look. It was dim in the alley, but you could just make out the pattern on the items sitting toward the front of the trunk. The deeper recesses of the space may as well have been a black void to you. “You can take a better look later, but I thought, if this is going to become a more regular arrangement, this would help you.” 

“What?” your heart pounded in your chest. He wanted this thing to continue, so much so he wanted to help it be easier? What did that mean? Lifting the lid of the box, you found a red bowl hat, perfectly in style, much unlike the one pulled down over your head currently. The ribbon around the band, shiny silk, accented with little roses embroidered onto the felt of the hat. 

“There’s a cape to match. I know coats are a bit more in style, but it’s knit and I’m told that’s still in style.” Alastor hesitated for a moment, taking in the soft expression on your face. “I thought the cape would suit you better.” 

Blood roared in your ears as your vision wavered. Breaths came broken as you tried to will yourself to calm down. When was the last time someone had gifted you anything? It had been flowers. The ones Laurence had given you to replace the ones Alastor gave you. Then the fear began to truly hit, sending a tear running down your now pale cheek. How would you explain this to Laurence? 

“It’s small enough you could tuck it under the steps, or somewhere else if you think he would find it.” Alastor’s hand rested on your shoulder, arm laying across your upper back as he held you almost to his side, the distance between your bodies too small to be proper but too large for you to call it an embrace. “I thought perhaps you could wear them when coming to meet me, instead of something you could be recognized in.” 

“Mr. Moreau,” you patted his chest with the back of your hand before you thought twice about such a bold move. It was too easy to feel that comfortable with him. “You make it sound like sneaking out with you is going to be a regular occurrence.” 

“Would that be a bad thing?” Alastor asked as he slipped the shawl from your shoulders and tossed it into his trunk. “You could use a friend.” 

Friend. Alastor had called himself your friend. That word bounced around in your head as he wrapped the cloak around your shoulders and tossed the hat you had been wearing in the trunk with little care. 

If you were just friends, why did it not feel like that? Why did it feel like more? Why did the idea of it not being more make your heart pain?

“Shall we?” Alastor’s hand took up its place against your back, just a touch lower than you considered proper but where you were becoming accustomed to it resting. 

“No hat?” You asked as he closed the trunk with one hand. 

“You’re already here,” he chuckled as he smiled down at you. “If you wore a hat, I wouldn’t get to see your lovely face.” 

The trunk slammed shut with a solid thunk, sealing away your items. The sound broke you out of the spell you still lingered in, touched by his kindness and the fear of your husband it inspired. 

“Darling,” Alastor stepped in front of you slightly, turning to face you. His knuckle grazed your cheek tenderly, wiping away the trail left by the tear that had escaped. “If you don’t think you can hide then, you don’t have to take them. I wouldn’t want to cause you to go through another… grievous incident.”

“I-” you took a shaking breath, “I think I can. I just- I’m not used to such kindnesses.” 

With a smile, Alastor led you around to the passenger side. He reached around you, opening the door as he let you sit with your admission. 

Finally, he said, “You deserve to be treated with kindness,” as he tucked you into the seat. 

The door closed, leaving you with your thoughts as Alastor walked around the front of the car. It was the first chance you had to process his words without the sight of his warm eyes in the darkness clouding your mind. Reaching up, you let your fingers caress over the bruise around your eye, faded now, more green and yellow than red and purple. It was easier to cover, hidden now under layers of cream and powder. 

He wanted to see your face. Knowing how you looked and what you were hiding, he wanted to see you.

“How long do we have?” Alastor asked as he settled into the driver’s seat, pulling the door closed. The keyring jingled as he slotted the key into the ignition. With a quick turn of his wrist, the engine roared to life. 

“He told me not to wait up,” you answered, only realizing how that could be taken as an invitation to something far more than what you had planned after the words left your lips.

“Good!” Alastor pulled the car forward, out of the other side of the alleyway and onto the street. “Are you hungry? I figured a late lunch and then an early show at the cinema. Hows that sound?” 

“It sounds wonderful,” you told him as he turned onto the city streets. “But I’ll be seen. People will talk.” 

Alastor only looked over at you and winked with a cock of his head. The radio filled the silence, covering for your inability to think of anything to say. As minutes passed, one after another, the city giving way to scenic landscapes. You were torn between watching the land passing by and watching Alastor driving, his long fingers wrapped around the wheel as he navigated with practiced ease. 

“Do you leave the city often?” You finally braved saying. 

He glanced at you, the bright afternoon sun lighting up his eyes as he turned his head. “More often than I probably should.” 

“What’s that mean?” Your voice came softly. It was a struggle to have enough air to breathe when he looked at you that way, let alone talk. 

Alastor shrugged, “I get recognized in the city, more often than I’d like sometimes.”

“That’s a problem Mr. Big Deal Radio Host?” You laughed as he gave you a pointed look that dissolved into the smile he always wore. It felt okay to tease him. It felt safe. 

“It can be,” Alastor was silent for a bit, looking between you and the road. It was clear he wanted to say more. You sat, waiting patiently until he spoke again. Usually you’d wait because it wasn’t a woman’s place to speak over a man, but not this time. As the world passed by outside the window, you waited because you wanted to know what it was he was debating about saying, not wanting to risk scaring away his words. “You know I’m not like you, right? Not from money, but also…” 

“I suspected,” you said simply, “But that’s alright. I don’t mind, you’re kind and a gentleman.” Your voice fell silent for a moment. Alastor debated in that moment clarifying, making it clear it wasn’t just money he referred to but you spoke again before he could. “That’s what matters, not the color of your skin or that of your parents or their parents. What matters is that your mother raised you right.” 

Alastor didn’t speak at first and you feared you had said something wrong. Fingers twisted around each other, taking a bit of your blouse with them. You pushed down the urge to say something, anything, to fill the void seemed to grow within the car. 

“Not everyone thinks that way.” Alastor’s voice broke the silence, shattering the void. “People know me and no one says it because I look close enough to them they can make themselves forget, but it’s the first thing they remember when I make a mistake. Out here,” Alastor tilted his head forward, to the open road and the small town in the distance, “no one knows me. They don’t know or if I mess up, it’s just some unknown guy.” 

“It must be stressful.” You caught yourself as you reached out, wanting to rest your hand on his forearm. Instead, you pulled your hand to your chest and clasped in your other hand. 

Alastor laughed, “It can be. But I manage.” 

“And out here, maybe I can just be some girl, too.” You said, watching his face, “Some girl out with you.” 

“If you want to be.” Alastor’s smile had dimmed with the conversation but now it turned cautiously brighter. 

“And if I do?” The words were hardly more than a whisper as you carefully nudged your toe just a bit further over the line. 

“Guess you’re just some girl out with some guy, then.” 

The diner was small, casual and easy but with Alastor it didn’t feel that way. He pulled your chair out for you as if you were somewhere fancy, scooting you into the table with care. It could have been the highest class restaurant, something Laurence would have taken you on to celebrate your engagement for all the care Alastor was putting into settling you at the table. 

With the red knit cape over your shoulders, you indulged in the fantasy. You smiled warmly at Alastor from across the table as he talked about the radio, what he did in the day and the hours he spent poring over scripts and show plans. 

It made you want to sit and listen to his show. It made you thankful for Laurence’s late nights, allowing you to indulge in upcoming shows. The idea of getting caught and setting Laurence’s rage off was too terrifying to brave listening to Alastor on the radio since meeting the man himself, but now, the way Alastor talked about his work, you wanted to hear the thing he loved to do so much. It would be like hearing it with brand new ears. 

It wasn’t as if you’d never heard his broadcasts in the past. You’d caught them here or there in passing. Though you had enjoyed them, you were always busy tending to your home or your husband, regardless of your desire.

It felt strange to wish to hear the voice of a man, but you were craving Alastor’s voice more and more, the longer you had known him. His love and passion for his chosen profession, you feared it would make your longing all the worse. 

“What do you do when you’re not going about your work?” You asked, setting the napkin aside after dabbing at your face. 

Alastor paused and thought, something you had grown to appreciate about him in the short time you’d known him. “I read,” he finally said, “And hunt, though I fear I seldom have time for either.”

“You’d have more time if you were not sneaking away with a-” you whispered the next words, leaning across the table, “married woman.” 

“But my dear!” Alastor laughed, “I find spending time with,” and his voice lowered to a matching whisper as he leaned across the near empty plates on the table, closing much of the distance between the two of you, “one specific married woman to be rather refreshing.” 

“Oh my,” you covered your mouth in feigned outrage as a smile you wouldn’t have recognized spread across your face, “How scandalous!” 

“The true scandal,” Alastor admitted, wicked grin spreading wider across his face, “Is how she seems to enjoy my company as well.” 

You walked arm in arm with Alastor through the cinema hall as he led you to your theater as a few others milled about. It was a show you’d already seen, but you didn’t mind that at all. You had never seen this show with Alastor and that was what you were eager for. 

Was he the one to whisper through the show? Would he laugh? Would he doze off? 

It was early yet, and the theater was little more than half filled as you took your seats. The darkness felt strangely safe because he was in it with you. No monsters in men’s dress would get you in this darkness. Today, there was nothing to fear. 

No unwanted hands would grip your thigh. No hands would slip under your dress. No one would whisper lewd promises in your ear that would only spark fear. You were safe, respected. 

While you watched the show, some of it at least, mostly you watched Alastor watch the movie. Not at first, but as his arm reached behind you, resting along the back of your seat, you couldn’t help it. Light reflected off his glasses and he chuckled softly at jokes. 

You envied some woman you didn’t know. It was hardly more than the idea of a woman, really. She would come into his life, steal the attention and affection you had no right to lay claim to. She would get to call Alastor hers. 

Was it possible to hate the idea of someone? You thought so, as he turned to look at you, a smile stopping your heart in your chest. 

Friends, you reminded yourself. Just friends. Just a secret and highly improper friendship. You could keep your feelings at that level, right?

Forcing your eyes back to the screen, you tried to ignore the way his thumb would caress your shoulder from where his hand dangled off the backrest of your seat. He was not holding you and yet he came so terribly close to it. You ignored the feeling of his eyes on you as he leaned closer to whisper in your year, his breath washing over your neck and the side of your face as he moved closer. 

“I’m glad you came out with me today,” his voice was soft velvet in your ear, his lips moving against your hair. Your heart was going insane as you chanted in your mind that you were friends. Just friends. Only friends. 

He pressed against the side of your head. Was it a kiss? You weren’t sure. The very idea of it terrified you. There was no way you could brave asking . Your heart pounded in the most delightful way. You could hear him breathe you in for a moment before he pulled away, sitting properly in his seat again with his eyes on the screen. 

Did he know what he did to you? 

Laurence sat in his large office with the blinds drawn closed against the bright spring sunshine. Smoke curled up from the cigar he had no business buying, let alone smoking with the state of things. That didn’t stop him, though. It was alright, he would find a way out of this, he always did. 

There were papers spread in haphazard piles in front of him, red glaring up at him. Canceled, the red screamed. Contracts canceled. Work not yet delivered. Past due notices. Bills unpaid. Threats of legal action. Things were spiraling out of his control, but that was alright. 

He just needed one more good break and he could pull things back together as if he had never broken them. He had always been good at finding opportunities, taking the right risks. He was a master gambler. This was just a string of bad luck, that’s all. Everyone had runs of bad luck but his never lasted long. He would pull out of this, he always did. 

First, he’d finish up work at the office. That was the easy part. Throw together some marketing materials from the crew that was left and have them deliver it with some sob story. If he was lucky, the client would bite it and at least one of these contracts would be settled. 

Then he’d meet up with the guys and play some cards. If he played his game right, he’d come out on top. He had to be careful, not too much on top or they’ll question him. This wasn’t a week where he could rely on lady luck alone to line his pockets. 

Once he had some winnings in his pocket, it would be late enough to run an extra load of goods for his best gal’s brother and collect a little extra money. It wouldn’t be enough to change the trajectory of his finances, but it would be a start. He just needed a fucking start. 

If he had a good night, he’d have enough cash in his pocket to make his first payment to that damned slimy radio fucker. Just the idea of how that man had the fucking nerve to shame him for offering you as collateral, then to turn around and slink around his home as if he owned the place. How fucking dare he get you alone when he was a guest in the home? 

That man was bad news. Laurence felt it in his bones. Nothing good could come from a man who so shamelessly spent time with an unattached spinster like Mimzy but really, why was it surprising? Just look at who his fucking mother was.

A family history of boundary crossing and not knowing one’s goddamn place, that’s all that fucker had going for him. Alastor, the promising radio personality- fuck him. Just another man with dirty blood who didn’t know his fucking place in society. 

What was the world coming to? It was going to hell in a handbasket, that was for fucking sure. First the blurring of racial lines and now women were expected to vote? How would they know what’s best for society? What they know was the best way to get clothes clean, to mop the floors and to bake if they were good at anything at all. 

Laurence took a deep breath, pulling open the desk drawer. Things rattled around from the force. He shoved papers and boxes around, grabbing the vial of tincture he kept hidden in the back of the drawer, safely out of sight. He had purchased his office supply from across the city. Nosey pharmacists couldn’t mind their business and had to question how much his back had to be hurting. 

Fuckers. His back hurt. He needed the drops. That’s all there was to it. Who the fuck were they to question how much pain he was in?

The bitter taste was something he had gotten used to, even come to enjoy, as he emptied half the dropper into his upturned mouth. Swallowing it, he leaned back and waited for the pleasant fog to wrap around his mind and take the pain away. 

He had to figure out a plan, a better plan. Work harder, not smarter. No, that wasn’t right. He had flipped it around as the fog encroached into his mind. Work smarter, not harder. That was it. He had to do that. 

There were empty bottles in the back room, behind the old boxes of scarped marketing materials. Could he use those to somehow make some more green? Yes, that was an idea. How?

He could pick up the load, split it between whatever extra bottles he had and top them all up with water. No one would notice, no one would even dare question Emma’s family about it- that was a great way to get shot. 

He could sell the extra bottles himself and pocket the money. He’d have enough then to make the first payment on that fucking loan. What kind of asshole wants the first payment before the first month had passed, anyway?

Arrogant prick, Laurence thought as he leaned back in his chair, eyes slipping closed. He’d rest his eyes for just a minute, then he’d leave. He had to get on his way to his next meeting or this deal would slip from his fingers, too. 

Rest his eyes for just a few seconds, then the meeting. After the meeting, gambling. Then running the hootch. Then he’d take Emma off somewhere, make her scream his name. Maybe she’d suck his cock. 

That was something he couldn’t get his wife to do for him. Dumb broad had no interest in sex. What man enjoys having to spell out how to please him? Fucking her was like fucking a dead fish. She just laid there and cried. Too sheltered or too dumb to enjoy it- he wasn’t sure which was the case with her. After all these years, he would have thought she’d figure it out, but she was just as bad as the first night. 

Come home. If he was feeling good, maybe he’d fuck his wife, too.

What a night, getting laid twice. 

But first he’d just… 

Rest his eyes…

Just a moment longer…

Then he’d be off to the meeting…

In just a moment… 

Just a moment…

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