#i know i'm not great at it. but i feel like i'm the only one even actually thinking about it

[feluka]

"How many of you like have you ever been to Jerusalem? Raise your hand if you have ever been to Jerusalem. We have 60 students here, and we have one... two, probably three... That's that's very few of you! I've never been to Jerusalem. We're Palestinians; we live in Gaza; we can't go to Jerusalem because of the Israeli occupation.

But we love Jerusalem, right? [A chorus of students saying "yes".] We love Jerusalem because of what it means to us. We've never been there, but believe me, when you go there you will feel that you've been there hundreds of times. Because you read about Jerusalem in literature, in stories. Of course it doesn't mean that that's it, that we should take the Jerusalem that's in the stories and that's it, no.

But in literature, Jerusalem comes back to us. It's true that there is suffering; there is pain; there is occupation, and that's why Tamim Al-Barghouti, as a young Palestinian poet, I think is doing a great service to the Palestinian cause and the Palestinian struggle.

When you listen to him reciting his poem from Al-Quds, or other poems, he takes you to Jerusalem. You live in Jerusalem. He takes you back to it. You liberate it for just a little bit of time.

And if there is hope; if you can imagine a free Palestine, a free Jerusalem, probably you will work towards that, and the same thing applies to occupied Palestine. We've never been to other parts of Palestine because of the Israeli occupation, but we've been told so many times by our parents and our grandparents, especially our mothers, they've been telling us stories about Palestine in the past, the good old days, when Palestine was all beautiful, unoccupied, unraped.

Therefore, I say in in this case how our homeland turns into a story. In reality, we can't have it; we don't have it, but it can turn into poems, into literature, into stories, so our homeland turns into a story. We love our homeland because of the story. We love our homeland because of the story, and we love the story because it's about our homeland, and this connection is significant.

Israel wants to sever this relationship, for example between Palestinians and the land; Palestinians and Jerusalem, and other places and cities, and literature attaches us back - connects us strongly to Palestine, so in my thinking, this is a very significant thing that literature contributes to. Creating realities; making the impossible sound possible.

In real life, again because we are here in Palestine and Gaza, I'll be giving you examples from Palestinian and Arab literature so we can compare and make things clearer. We all know Fadwa Tuqan, the Palestinian poet - and please do not introduce her as Ibrahim Tuqan's sister, let's talk about her as Fadwa Tuqan and then somewhere else mention that, "by the way, Ibrahim Tuqan was her brother". Let's not throw her under the shadow of a man, even if it's her brother, who was a great poet, we can't deny that.

So this is Fadwa Tuqan, a Palestinian poet, 40 years ago or 50 years ago, writing poetry... Of course, we always fall into this trap of saying "she was arrested for just writing poetry!" We do this, even us believers in literature, "Why would Israel arrest somebody or put somebody under house arrest if she only wrote a poem?!"

So we contradict ourselves sometimes. We believe in the power of literature, changing life as a means of resistance, a means of fighting back and in the end we say, "She just wrote a poem!" We shouldn't be saying that.

Moshe Daya, an Israeli general, said that the poems of Fadwa Tuqan were like facing 20 enemy fighters. Wow.

She didn't throw stones; she didn't shoot at the invading Israeli military jeeps. She just wrote poetry. And I'm falling for that again, I'm saying "she just wrote poetry".

So this is what how Israel's dealing with Palestinian poets, and the same thing happened to Palestinian poet Dareen Tatour. She wrote poetry celebrating Palestinian struggle; encouraging Palestinians to resist, not to give up, to fight back. She was put under house arrest. She was sent to prison for years.

And therefore I end here with a very significant point. Don't forget that Palestine was first and foremost occupied in Zionist literature and Zionist poetry.

Palestine was presented as these things, I'll be mentioning some of them, but there's a contradiction here, there's a paradox always. "Palestine is a land without a people to our people without a land", "Palestine flows with milk and honey", "there's no one there, so let's go". We'll see how later on, how many even Jewish people were disappointed when they came to Palestine. Number one, there was no milk and honey, because "flowing with milk and honey" sounds like you're just going to be groping around, and milk and honey will be thrown at you - and there were people! There have always been people in Palestine.

The fact that Israel worked hard to ethnically cleanse Palestine, to kick Palestinians out, first and foremost in literature - yes, in politics and everything - shows how significant poetry is.

To sum up, Palestine was occupied metaphorically in the poem long before it was physically and militarily occupied in your life, so let's do the same. Let's fight back; let's restore Palestine in in our writings; in our poetry; in our stories."

-Professor Refaat Alareer explaining to his students the power of poetry as a means of resistance, and why the occupation targets poets, during one of his lectures at IUG.

[pathologicalreid]

heyyy!!! I just wanted to say I really love your work and this is my first time sending a request so sorry if it’s not very specific 😭💕

If you’re still doing requests, I was wondering if you could do a fem reader x Spencer Reid where it’s similar to your cryptic pregnancy one, except Spencer is at home with her when she’s in labour without realising, and she’s just in a lot of pain and it all of a sudden gets worse and she’s just in the bathroom shouting for Spencer, he comes in and eventually works out what’s going on, readers sort of in denial? Maybe the ambulance doesn’t get there in time so Spencer has to help her give birth? Lots of fluff and hurt/comfort :)

Also completely fine if your not comfortable doing it, but again really love your work and hope you have a great day 💕 :)

three's a family | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: cryptic pregnancy, traumatic birth, precipitous labor, hospitals, medical inaccuracy (its just me and google against the world), takes place after 9x7 "gatekeeper", surgery, near death experiences, periods, home birth word count: 3.16k a/n: anon i'll be so honest with u i wasn't sure if i was gonna write this but then i learned what precipitous labor was and i was like "i would not wish this on my worst enemy... i'm going to force it on y/n" BUT please keep in mind that there is a .000012 probability of this happening to you (i did the math) this is the wildest thing ive written to date i think

“I’m going to try a bath,” you murmured over to Spencer, wincing as you dragged yourself out of bed, walking at a turtle’s pace to the bathroom, hoping the warm water would soothe the cramps away.

Your period came and went as it pleased; it was just your luck that it decided to give you debilitating cramps on your one day off. Padding on the tile floor behind you, Spencer leaned against the doorframe to the bathroom, “I could run to the store and get a new heating pad.”

Sticking your hand under the tap to check the temperature, you plugged the drain once you found it to be satisfactory. You shook your head, “No, it’s fine.” Your original heating pad must’ve gotten lost somewhere in the depths of your storage closet, but you didn’t have the patience to look for it. You could manage just fine without it.

“Will you let me know if you need anything?” He asked, leaning forward to press a comforting kiss to your forehead.

Nodding, you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your pajama pants and pulled them down, watching as Spencer pointedly flicked the bathroom fan on – something you often forgot to do.

You lasted about thirty minutes in the bath, not only was the water beginning to grow lukewarm, but if anything, your cramps were getting worse while submerged in the water. Grunting, you reached over and tugged the plug from the drain, watching as the water drained, you managed to pull yourself to a squat before you felt stuck.

Aunt Flo really had it out for you this month.

Burying your face in your hands you accepted defeat and called out for Spencer, reaching up and trying to stand again, but only succeeding in knocking over several shampoo bottles. “Spence!” You tried again, white-knuckling the edge of the bathtub as you bowed your head. A creeping feeling that this wasn’t your period was beginning to rise.

You listened as your husband made his way up the stairs, turning the corner into your room, and opening the door to the ensuite. Moving quickly, Spencer dropped to a crouch in front of you, cupping your pained face in his hands, “I don’t think this is your period, angel.”

Clamping your lips together to prevent yourself from crying out, you simply nodded in response. How awful was it that you were going to die, naked, in your bathtub?

Spencer wiped tears away from under your eyes – you hadn’t even realized you started crying. “What does it feel like, darling? What else could it be?” He asked, voice urgent but gentle as he tried to stop you from panicking.

As you shook your head, you couldn’t focus on anything else besides your breathing as another pain rose up through you. “It’s like a cramp, but with more pressure,” you said, depending on the bathtub and Spencer to keep you upright as your legs shook beneath you. “Like something’s pushing on me, kind of like I have to shit.”

Reaching behind him, Spencer dug through one of the drawers in the bathroom vanity before retrieving the handheld mirror that you used when you cut his hair. Before you could ask what he was doing, he placed the mirror at the bottom of the tub, just beneath you. “I think you’re in labor,” he announced, breaking the news to you.

“There’s no– fuck,” your voice broke off as you dropped your head onto Spencer’s shoulder, breathing through what was apparently a contraction. “I’m not pregnant,” you insisted as your symptoms started to make sense. You had been in labor all morning.

Nodding to himself, Spencer quickly kissed your cheek before standing up and making sure you were stable before stepping to the side.

You frowned as you looked up at him, “Where are you going?”

He didn’t go far, opening the linen closet and piling towels into his arms, “I’m getting towels to put in the tub beneath you, and then I’m going to call an ambulance.”

“You want me to give birth in our bathtub?” You asked, furrowing your brows quizzically before letting out a low whine as another contraction hit.

Stopping what he was doing, Spencer dropped down to you, running the flat of his palm up and down your back as he gently reminded you to breathe. “Did you want to change positions?”

Immediately, you shook your head. You already had an insurmountable task ahead of you and you saw no reason to add to that task by trying to move. “This is fine. Squatting is good, right?”

Nodding assuredly, Spencer smoothed your hair away from your face, “Gravity can help the baby descend the birth canal, and some people even say that the position can increase the pelvic diameter.”

While you were currently less concerned with the diameter of your pelvis and more concerned with feeling like your body was being split open, you continued going through the motions as he called for an ambulance, trying to explain the situation to the dispatcher.

“Have you been timing your contractions?” Spencer asked, tilting his head at you curiously as the dispatcher spoke on the phone.

Releasing a groan, you gripped the ledge of the tub, “I didn’t know they were contractions!”

Relaying that information over the phone, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you, “Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll take care of it.” He continued to reassure you, taking one look at your desperate expression before ending the call with the dispatcher.

He understood that you were vulnerable right now, and you didn’t want that broadcasted to a stranger on the phone. If you weren’t so preoccupied with remembering to breathe, you’d be more grateful. After a contraction ebbed away, Spencer stood up.

“I have to go unlock the door for the paramedics,” he told you, keeping a wary eye on you. “I’ll be right back,” he comforted you as he took one last look at you before tearing out of the bathroom.

In record speed, he returned to the bathroom as promised, “It’s bad,” you cried, the pressure on your pelvis becoming insufferable.

Crouching in front of you, Spencer studied your face before he spoke carefully, “I have to check your cervix.”

Despite his carefully chosen words, your lips still parted in shock, “You have to what?”

“I’ll use my hand to measure how dilated you are, and then… we’ll go from there,” he told you, nodding almost imperceptibly. At this point, you weren’t sure who he was trying to reassure – you or him. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you answered instantly, “indefinitely.”

You bit down on your lip as you let Spencer check you, understanding entirely why people choose to get epidurals – this was horribly uncomfortable. “On the next contraction, you need to push, okay?”

For just a moment, your breathing faltered as your scared eyes met his, “Spence, wait,” you pleaded.

Smoothing your hair back, your husband did everything he could to comfort you, “What is it, love?” He asked, his voice soft.

“I’m scared,” you confessed, voice cracking ever so slightly as tears flooded your lash line.

He leaned forward to gently kiss your lips before pulling away to press his forehead to yours, "I've got you. You're going to be fine. You're both going to be fine."

You could see his carotid pounding, and somehow the fact that he was secretly as scared as you was more comforting than the words that came from his mouth. As you pushed, you focused on everything that Spencer was saying instead of the pain. Don’t push for more than eight seconds. Remember to breathe. Your body will know what to do. I love you. I love you. I love you.

By the time Spencer was saying something about the head, your hearing had gone muffled. “You’re doing so well, baby,” you made out his voice and nodded dazedly. “You’re wonderful. I’m so proud of you – just a little more,” he cajoled.

Taking a moment to breathe, your ears and eyes focused as shaky breaths filled your lungs.

“I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful,” he murmured, dropping a kiss on your bare shoulder as he comforted you, continuing to keep you upright.

You shook your head, sniffling as your eyes screwed shut, “You’re perfect. Don’t stop. Keep talking,” you begged, needing something to focus on other than the pain.

“There’s about a point zero four percent chance of you getting pregnant and not finding out until you’re in labor,” he told you, hoping that the information would help you wrap your head around what was happening to you. “One to three in one hundred people have a precipitous labor,” he continued to speak as you pushed, and you wondered what the odds of you squeezing his hand so hard that you did damage were.

Against your better judgment, you looked down to check your progress, “Holy fuck,” you said breathlessly. You weren’t entirely clueless, you knew that once you got past the shoulders the remaining pushes would be easier. You also found yourself grateful that Spencer knew what he was doing – this was, after all, the second baby he had delivered.

You bore down, determined to get the baby out while Spencer untangled your hands, bringing his own down to catch the baby. Out of breath, you panted heavily as you started to feel lightheaded. “Done,” Spencer said quickly, “it’s done. I have him.”

Carefully, Spencer held the baby along the length of his forearm, rubbing the tiny newborn’s back. “Come on, come on, come on,” he muttered under his breath, and it dawned on you that the baby wasn’t crying.

At the realization, your legs finally gave out from beneath you, watching with wide eyes as Spencer tried to clear your son’s lungs. White hot tears streamed down your face as you whispered, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You took a gasping breath as you silently pleaded for a cry, “I didn’t know,” you sobbed, guilt building a pit in your stomach.

With bleary eyes, you looked on as the baby finally spluttered and let out a wail. “There you go,” Spencer cooed softly, his own voice stiff with emotion as he cradled the baby and handed him off to you.

You were still sobbing as you held the baby to your chest, “I’m so sorry,” you continued to babble, watching as Spencer briefly disappeared into the bedroom before returning with a blanket and wrapping it around the both of you. While holding the baby, your vision started to blur around the edges.

Watching you intently, Spencer cupped your face in his hands, “I love you.”

Nodding, your face crumpled before you responded, “I love you too.”

When the paramedics announced themselves, Spencer called out for them, not wanting to leave your side. The two of you focused your attention on the wriggling baby in your arms.

He was premature – too little to stay with you in the recovery room. The NICU doctor had estimated that he was born at approximately 32 weeks, meaning he’d likely need to spend a few weeks in intensive care. “I want to see him,” you said insistently, looking over as Spencer as he fussed over you.

“You just had abdominal surgery,” Spencer responded simply, as if that was meant to clarify everything for you. He continued fluffing your pillow, which wasn’t entirely productive considering you were lying on the pillow.

As it turned out, you had experienced what was called a precipitous birth, or a rapid birth. It tended to be dangerous, and the fact that you did it in your bathtub only heightened that danger. You reached your arm out for Spencer, “c’mere,” you muttered, trying to get him to stop fretting. “Did you listen to anything that the doctor just said?”

Spencer nodded in understanding, “Lots of rest, no physical exertion, IV medication for now-“

“Did you hear the part where he said I was going to be okay?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him curiously, you watched as he took your hand in his and sat on the edge of your bed. “I’m going to be fine,” your voice was determined, you had a few small incisions on your abdomen from the surgery to repair a tear in your uterus. “Thank you for looking after me,” you whispered.

Your husband gently smoothed your hair back from your face, “I should’ve noticed it sooner.”

Using all of your strength, you squeezed his hand comfortingly, “You were incredible,” you assured him. “If it weren’t for you, neither of us would’ve made it.”

He shook his head, “Don’t say that.”

Raising your eyebrows, you cocked your head to the side, “It’s true. I couldn’t have done it on my own, I’m so, so thankful for you, my love.” 

You had passed out in the ambulance as a direct result of blood loss, so you were brought to a trauma bay as soon as you made it to the hospital. Once they were in the ER, the baby was taken to the NICU, leaving Spencer with a lot of decisions to make.

When you woke up in the recovery room, the first thing you did was ask about the baby.

Spencer, of course, had been up to see him. The nurses claimed he seemed like a fighter, and Spencer knew the survival odds of a 32-weeker, so he turned his attention to you. Every other option had already failed, so the next option was a laparoscopy. Your husband admitted that while it seemed extreme, the very last choice was a hysterectomy, and he didn’t want to make that decision.

Furrowing your brows, “When can I see the baby?” You asked, not entirely sure how to refer to the infant just yet. It wasn’t until then that you realized you needed to name him at some point – your son.

“Once your blood pressure goes up,” Spencer told you with an authoritative tone. “You lost a lot of blood in the ambulance, but the blood transfusions will bring your blood pressure back up.”

Tilting your head to the side, you glared at your husband, “And is this rule from a doctor with a medical degree or a doctor whose name is on my marriage certificate?”

In response, Spencer shrugged, sitting in the beige armchair at the side of your bed, “That’s a secret I’ll never tell.”

You rolled your eyes dismissively, “Will you go see him?”

He leaned over the edge of your bed, taking your hand in his. “I can, will you be alright on your own?”

Nodding almost imperceptibly, you squeezed his hand affectionately, “I just don’t want him to be alone.” You whispered as tears pricked your eyes, you took your free hand and waved at your face, “god, what’s wrong with me?”

“A sudden drop of estrogen and progesterone immediately following birth causes mood swings. Nothing is wrong with you, your body is acting naturally,” Spencer explained patiently, dropping a gentle kiss on your lips.

You sighed before melting back into your pillows, “At least something about this feels natural,” you responded. Your brain felt like a spinning top, while your body felt like you were being weighed down by an elephant in a commercial for COPD medication.

The fact that the NICU nurse informed you that your son had a ninety-five percent chance of living a completely normal life did nothing to calm your nerves. He’d have to stay in the NICU for a few weeks and you tried to convince yourself that the extra time to prepare for him to come home would be good for you, but the idea of leaving him alone at the hospital – save for a small army of doctors and nurses – put a pit of dread in your chest.

Spencer had the forethought to warn you about the tubes and wires that he was hooked up to, ranging from oxygen to a feeding tube. “He’s been undergoing red light therapy to be treated for jaundice, but you can hold him for a while if you want to,” the nurse told you, leading the both of you through the NICU as Spencer steered your wheelchair through the hospital.

Your breathing hitched when you finally saw him, this tiny stowaway that had been growing inside of you for the last several months, and he was just so little. While you were still in your own room, you had convinced yourself that you’d hold him, but now you weren’t so convinced.

According to the sign in his room, he weighed three pounds and ten ounces and was sixteen inches long. He was sound asleep in an incubator, a small hat on top of his head, “Spence,” you breathed.

Behind you, your husband placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I know.”

“Did you want to hold him?” The nurse asked you gently, looking over at one of the machines that he was hooked up to.

Genuinely, you didn’t know. “Is… is that okay?” You asked, wiping your sweaty palms on the blanket draped across your legs.

The nurse gave you a knowing look, “Even better than okay, it’ll be good for him to have that kind of contact from both of his parents.”

Frowning, you watched as it took two nurses to break him out of his acrylic prison before they carefully placed him on your chest, making sure you were okay before they stepped back. Your movements were stiff at first, you had never held a baby this small before, but you eventually remembered to breathe and gently cooed at the baby in your arms.

Spencer crouched down next to you and started to ask the nurse a bunch of questions that he had likely been holding in for hours, but you just kept your eyes on the sleeping baby. He was too small to open his eyes, but everyone assured you that he’d get there.

The nurse stepped out to give you some privacy, leaving the door open just in case you needed something, “This doesn’t seem quite as difficult while I’m holding him.” You knew there was a steep learning curve ahead, but with a newborn on your chest, the pit in your heart dissipated.

“That’s called oxytocin,” Spencer said, sitting in a chair, eyes fixated on the infant in your arms.

Humming, you skimmed the pad of your thumb across your son’s tiny back, “He looks like you,” you observed quietly, they had the same nose.

Your husband smiled softly, “You can’t possibly tell which parent he takes after yet,” he informed you.

“And yet, I know he looks like you,” you insisted softly, and Spencer didn’t push back. “You look like your daddy,” you whispered to the baby, “he was the first one to hold you, you know?” You looked over at Spencer, “he’s been my superhero for four years, and now he gets to be yours too.”

[princejiu]

𝗛𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | alessia russo x mma!fighter

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Alessia encounters an unwanted attention and tries her best to hide it from you, knowing that you would absolutely do anything to keep her safe.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 | blood, assault, violence, ptsd, cursing, maybe attempt of murder

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 | ik its been two months almost thre-anyways. this is 9 thousand something words and it took a lot of brain capacity.

The night was young, streetlights lit the city as rowdy adults filled London with joyous laughter. It was like any other Saturday night to most but not to Alessia.

She was leaving you home alone to attend Kyra's birthday party along with the other gunners. Usually, you'd be by her side through it all, but you were still healing from your previous fight.

Patched-up cuts and bruises here and there. None that you deemed bed-rest worthy, yet remained home to steer clear of the scolding you would get from your coaches.

So, here you were sitting with a large bucket of popcorn and the latest season of Love Island. It took a great deal to convince Alessia to leave your side for the night, refusing to go firsthand as the urge to smother you with love and care surged as time went on.

After countless reassurances and kisses, Alessia reluctantly switched out joggers for jeans and a pullover for a top. She stood in front of you, twirling to give you the 360. Deep down, you started to regret inducing her to go. While Alessia had a full blowout, you lounged on the loveseat with shorts and a sports bra. "And to think you didn't want to leave."

Alessia grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it, pointing a non-threatening finger at you. "Do not start teasing me. You were the one who was so adamant about me going. It's your fault I'm in this vest instead of my jumper."

"Love, if it makes you feel any better. I prefer you in nothing at all."

Alessia rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in annoyance. You grinned, beckoning her over, even when you managed to annoy her Alessia could never resist you. She trudged to you, pursing her lip when you patted your lap.

You grunted as she plopped down on you, the unexpected force taking you by surprise. It was Alessia's turn to grin, hooking her arms around your neck, yours to her hips. "I take it you didn't like my joke."

You were unfazed by Alessia's evil eye, more than used to it. "You do not get to make jokes like that. You're forcing me to go to a party I don't want to go to and you're watching Love Island without me. You're being mean." You snorted, and with a click, the game show switched to one of your old fights.

Alessia turned her head away, your fights always made her a bit queasy hence why she never watched them. "Yes, how can I be so cruel to my lovely girlfriend? I should be punished for my crimes." Alessia slapped your chest, not a fan of your mockery.

"Quit the sarcasm. Save that for someone else other than the love of your life."

You pecked her cheek, a quick apology. "You're right. The love of my life only deserves respect and devotion." She nodded her head in agreement, her pride growing as she had the big bad fighter everyone knew lay down the treatment she deserves.

"That is correct but don't think this sucking up made me forget what you've done to me."

You groaned, throwing your head back. "Love, you haven't left my side since my fight, normally I wouldn't mind but you've been cooped up all week. And it's Kyra's birthday, imagine the headaches she'll give you for missing it."

Alessia could already see it, Kyra having a kick at her for not showing up. The Australian was known for her little sister energy that never ran out, much to the unlikes of her teammates. Alessia recalled Kyra's recent mischievous act.

A week ago, Steph forgot to grab Kyra's favorite candy when making a store run and a childlike Kyra took it to offense. She hadn't stopped yapping the entire day, Steph departed training with ringing ears that lasted the next day.

Alessia didn't want to have a similar outcome.

"That rascal hid my boots last time because I refused to prank Katie. A nuisance she is." You smiled, Alessia's annoyance that wasn't targeted towards you was amusing to watch. You slipped a hand under her top, rubbing the warm bare skin a contrast to your cold hands.

"So, what I'm hearing is that I'm right."

Alessia gave you no acknowledgment, gasping when she felt your thumb dip below her waistline. You leaned in for a kiss, though you were met with a flat palm to the face. You pulled back, scrunching your nose. Alessia smiled widely, "No messing up my lip gloss, darling."

For the very first, you scowled at Alessia's bright pink lips. The desire to botch Alessia's perfectly applied lipstick grew by the second. You exhaled sharply, leaning back to put some distance between you and her restricted lips. "That's unfair. You look ravishing and you're saying I can't kiss you? Must you tease me?"

Alessia giggled under her breath; she kissed your neck, unapologetic about her teasing. "Oh, my big baby. Have the consequences of your actions come to play?" You frowned at Alessia's mocking pout, the way she spoke as if she were speaking to a child stirred something within you.

You roughly tugged her closer, inches away from her lips. You removed one hand from her hips, gripping her jaw in a tight-loose hold. Your thumb swiped her bottom lip to the corner. Her once-perfect gloss now smudged and not in the way she would have liked.

You brought your thumb to your lips, putting on a little show, humming at the taste of strawberries on your tongue.

Alessia froze, she didn't expect you to turn the tables on her so fast. You grabbed Alessia's phone out of her back pocket, hearing a ping. You opened her phone, purposely ignoring her. "Vic's here. You should get going if you don't want to be late."

Alessia remained unmoved, stuck in a trance you led her into. You chuckled, no emotion behind it, standing up causing Alessia no choice but to do so as well. You took her chin in between your two fingers, "A little quiet, aren't we? What's the matter, Alessia? Have the consequences of your actions come to play?"

Alessia gulped at the bite in your tone, she shouldn't have baited you. It always ended with her pinned to the bed, a position she loved yet a lesson she never intend to learn. Alessia's phone pinged once again, she paid it no mind too focus on your little stare-down. "Better get going before Vic comes up and knocks down our door."

Alessia hesitantly took her phone, squinting as if she was trying to figure out your plan. "Just like that?" You raised a brow, ignoring the pinch of pain as your stitches stretched.

"I can do worse than a smeared gloss, you of all people should know that. I suggest you leave now before you don't at all." Alessia's finger hovered over her lips, she could feel the slight stickiness at the corners of her lips. You hadn't done much to taint them, but Alessia wished you did.

Your eyes began to soften at Alessia's timid stature, tipping her head up with a finger. Wiping away the small mess you created. "Have fun tonight, okay? I love you."

A smile grew on Alessia, puckering her lips for a kiss. "I thought you didn't want to ruin your makeup" She rolled her eyes at your cockiness, pulling you down to finally bring you into a kiss you both craved.

Alessia was the first to separate, "I love you too. Don't wait up." She gave you one last peck, grabbing her purse on her way out. Swaying her hips side to side, mindful of your wandering eyes.

"Not having the time of your life are you, Less?"

Lia winced as Alessia's head snapped to her, "I am. Why do you ask?" Lia didn't believe the young girl and it showed, Alessia stuck herself at their rented-out booth, doing nothing else other than sipping on her club soda.

"You haven't moved since we got here. What? Are you not used to having your little bloodhound with you?"

That got a laugh out of Alessia, Lia grinned cheekily. You were always a topic used to tease Alessia, two total opposites that fit together like a puzzle. She pushed the national captain as she poked fun at her. You were deemed 'The Bloodhound' early in your career by the media after endless fights where you left the cage a bloodbath.

"You can say that. She's still heal-" The boisterous of their teammates cut Alessia off, stumbling and cackling at whatever their drunk minds thought was funny. Leah threw herself next to Lia, pointing to Katie, her finger unsteadied as a result of her tipsiness. "I got it last time, McCard. It's your turn."

The Irish childishly shook her head, throwing up the bird, "No." Leah huffed, her infamous frown appearing.  She turned to the person next to Katie. "Fine. Caitlin, you go."

"She's not going."

The blonde threw her arms up in frustration, so much for being capitan. "Someone had to go, Katie! You've been weaseling your way out of rounds for the last two months!" The said weasel denied it, though the smirk on her lips said otherwise.

Leah's glare intensified, she wasn't a quitter, far from it. Even as a drunk, giving up was never in her dictionary. She stood up, ready to drag the queen of reds to do her go.

Lia, being the only sensible one there, quickly sat the Williamson down, giving her a warning not to start a fight.

"What about our depressed lover over there? She hasn't done anything. No dancing, no drinking. A little mood killer if you ask me." Katie winced as she received slaps from all around, unable to pinpoint who exactly hit her. Alessia cleared her throat, dumbfounded by how she got dragged in.

Lia held out a hand, stopping Katie from going off her rockers and possibly digging her own grave if you were to find out about how she spoke to your fiancé. "Hey, now. Alessia isn't in the mood, we should respect that and be happy she's even here." Alessia squeezed Lia's hand, thanking her for coming to her defense.

However, the people-pleaser side of Alessia won. She moved to stand, but Lia's hand halted her from doing any further. Her concerns made Alessia glad that she had someone in her corner for the wild night. "It's fine. She's sorta right, I've been a killjoy. Maybe this will loosen me up."

"Are you sure?"

Alessia gave Lia the okay, slipping out of her hold, and down to the crowd. Internally gagging at the stench of body odor hitting her unexpectedly. Fresh air welcomed her as she exited the crowd, breathing deeply, the cool air traveled through and around her body.

She rested her arms on the bar, calling the bartender for the round she volunteered to collect. Alessia daydreamed as she waited, snuggling up against you after tonight sounded like the perfect dream to make into a reality.

"Hi."

Alessia didn't flinch at the new voice, too caught up with herself to realize that she was being spoken to. She jumped slightly at the tap on her shoulder, surprised by the close proximity. "Oh, hi." It was small and brief, a simple acknowledgment of him. That's all. At least Alessia thought it was.

"Are you here alone?"

Alessia shook her head uninterested, looking back at the bartender to see if he was preparing her order. He wasn't.

"Who are you here with?"

She sighed, annoyed that he couldn't get the hint. Unbothered to look at him, Alessia answered, hoping the mentioned presence of her team would scare him off. "I'm here with my mates."

"Brilliant. Would your mates mind if I tag along?"

Alessia isn't the type to be easily angered, she grew up with two brothers by force she learned how to have more patience than the average person when it came to men and their small minds.

But something about this stranger irked her. So, she bit her tongue of what she really wanted to say, 'fuck off' and instead said, "They would actually. It's a girl's night and they'll be really upset if it was intruded."

Her saving grave, the bartender came back and he wasn't alone. Alessia quickly picked up the platter, leaving without so much of a goodbye.

There were no cheers or clicking of the shots, as everyone threw their head back to down the hard liquid. Kyra emerged from the crowd, eyes blown and a big smile that stretched cheek to cheek.

She latched onto Alessia's arm, "You're being boring tonight! It's my birthday!" Kyra tugged her to the middle of the room, an area Alessia tried to avoid.

Alessia grabbed onto the nearest person, drawing them along, soon enough a chain of gunners were trailing behind her. Alessia took shot after shot, shortly after, her body relaxed into the rhythmic beats.

She neglected to notice the unexpected hands on her waist as the hands closed around her, squeezing tightly, Alessia instantly knew that these hands weren't a friend of hers.

She roughly pulled away, spinning to see the stranger from the bar. He wore a smirk, smug that he got as close as he did with her. "What the hell are you doing?" He threw his arms to the side, showcasing a little dance of his.

"Dancing, dear. Come back, we were just having some fun."

Alessia shook her head, disgust seeped under her skin. She felt repulsed at some stranger touching her. "No, leave me alone. I am not interested."

"It looked like you were pretty interested. What was that move you did? The one where you were moving your hips side to side. Do you mind doing that again?"

Alessia turned away, thinking it would be best to take her leave rather than speak to him any further. Alas, the stranger couldn't care less. He followed Alessia, shoving bystanders out of his way. "Wait! Do not run off!" She ignored him, scurrying to the booth of gunners.

Just as Alessia was about to reach the table, she was pulled back. She gasped as a huge body engulfed her, Alessia mustered up the strength to push away but the attempt was too futile. "Get off!"

Alessia curled up as much as she could in his hold, his efforts to land a kiss on her neck was challenged by her strong resistance. "I'm a nice lad! Don't be so difficult!" He laughed in disbelief as Alessia struggled, the scene began to gather the attention of nearby clubbers.

"Let me go! Fuckin prick!"

Everything happened in a flash, Alessia was yanked away, bodies meddled between him and her. Mixture of brunettes and blondes filled Alessia's sight.

"You're okay. They're handling it."

Alessia could hardly register Viv's soft voice, the tall Dutch led her out the club, withdrawing from the chaos as the fight got bigger. Viv rubbed circles on her back, trying to calm the shaken girl.

She ignored the security guards that rushed into the building, faint sounds of glass breaking reached her ears. "I'll take you home as soon as Beth is done."

Panic swept through Alessia, red eyes going wide at the thought of returning home. "No! If I go home, she'll know something happened. I can't- I can't-" Viv hushed Alessia, hugging the younger as she spiraled.

Alessia didn't have to specify who she was talking about, only one person was waiting at home for Alessia. That person is you.

"Less, are you scared of yn?"

It was a question Viv didn't want to ask but did. Alessia's reaction to going home wasn't normal especially if it held the person who loved you and you, her. It's a red flag that Viv wasn't so quick to brush off.

Alessia flinched, staring at Viv as if she said the most absurd thing known to man. "What? No! No! Never! I'm scared for her! If she finds out what happened tonight-" Alessia suddenly stopped, she didn't want to believe what happened, happened.

How close he was, how his hands were all around her, how she felt his front pressed up against her. It physically and mentally sickened Alessia to the core.

She collected herself the best she could, staring straight into Viv's eyes. "She'll kill him. Viv, those beatings she does in the cages are nothing. That's her having fun. But this will set her off. You have to promise me that yn wouldn't hear a word about this. Viv promise me."

You couldn't find out, not when Alessia knew the lengths you'd go to protect her. Not when she knew how ill-tempered you were and how easily you got lost in your fit of anger. Alessia was your weakness, she knew that you knew that. Which is why you couldn't know, Alessia had no doubt you'd go on a manhunt to track down whoever harmed her.

Viv gazed into the abyss, unable to comprehend the fear Alessia had for you. You were someone with physical power, that Viv knew, you had the skills and scars to prove it. It was what you trained for, nearly two decades you've been building up your skills to hurt people for a living.

The active terror Alessia showed let Viv know that you were lawless by your own rules. "Okay, okay. I promise. And the others will too." That calmed Alessia down a bit, she leaned into Viv's side watching the passing cars as they waited for the rest.

"Fuck off!"

Katie came out first, followed by the rest of the players and security guards. Yelling and cursing lingered in the air, Viv ignored it, guiding Alessia to the car. "Let's wait in the car. It'll be a while before they quiet down."

The unfortunate events replayed in her mind like a broken record, it kept playing and playing. If she was lucky, sometimes it'd short-circuit. Then, all she could see was you, it felt like a dream. Like you weren't real, and that she was simply imagining someone to protect her to the very end.

But you were real.

You were real and Alessia had a tough time believing that. Believing that you her knight in shining armor. Whispers of promises in her ear at night, how you engraved that into her. But, you were nowhere to be seen when Alessia needed you the most. Instead, you were at home resting.

Part of Alessia wanted to blame you, yet she couldn't, she wouldn't. Not when you were her person, especially not when Alessia understood very well that if you were with her, you'd be in a jail cell by the time the sun rose.

You lost the ability of control when it came to Alessia, if someone were to so much as trip her, you'd return the favor tenfold. The more Alessia thought about you, the more she desired to go home.

"Hungry? We can go to Greggs."

Beth peered over at Alessia, the young striker hadn't made a peep since arriving at the couple's flat and that was hours ago. Beth and Viv stayed up the entire night nurturing Alessia to a certain extent, she allowed. Which wasn't much.

She inhabited the couch corner, not even a slight inch off. She hadn't spoken, eaten, or moved, her brain going haywire, and they couldn't do anything about it.

Beth kneeled, placing a comforting hand on Alessia's knee, gaining her attention without spooking her. "Why don't you take a shower? I imagine sticky sweat isn't the best feeling on the body."

Ease rippled through the couple as Alessia finally moved in the last eight hours, though it was short as Alessia's movements were slow and calculated. Beth patiently waited for her, directing Alessia to the awaiting shower that called her.

The shower did more than just cleanse Alessia of sweat, the overwhelming emotions of the night washed down the drain never to be seen or felt again. Alessia preferred it that way, it was better to believe that it was gone rather than it be stuck on her.

She'd rather be numb than feel what she felt in that dreadful encounter.

Alessia avoided looking into the mirror, squeezing the towel around her tight as she exited the warm steam. The coldness of the early morning greeted her, she walked over to the bed, holding up the Arsenal pull-over Beth set out for her.

She quickly put it on, brushing it down only for her eyes to catch the coloring on her hips. Her fingers lightly grazed the finger-print bruises, her breath hitches as flashbacks of his firm grip on her were physically felt in that second.

Alessia wanted to cry, she didn't want to feel as if someone was standing behind her, she didn't want to feel as if she was being touched like some sort of pet.

Alessia pushed down her tears along with anything else rising to the surface. She walked out the room, the conversation hushed as she came into view, and Alessia didn't care to bring it up knowing fully well it was about her. She sat next to Viv barely returning a smile, "Feel better?" Alessia ignored her, that was the better option.

The truth would raise more questions than she could handle right now. "I'm going home. Yn probably stayed up for me and I don't want to keep her waiting any longer." Understatement of the century. Alessia couldn't grasp the fact that time passed, only assuming, too stuck in her void to feel time's existence.

"Don't fret. I called her and told her you were too tired to make it home. She knows you're here."

Stunned, Alessia sent Beth a nod. "Thanks, but I should really get going." Viv and Beth got the obvious hint that Alessia didn't want to be there anymore, she quickly shoved her phone in her pocket, zipping past them.

The couple hastily followed behind, catching Alessia right at the door. "Let us drive you. We can get Greggs on the way." They didn't give Alessia too much room to argue, Viv grabbed her keys as Beth pushed her out the flat.

"You can ride front seat."

Alessia carefully closed the door, releasing a breath now that she was alone. Beth and Viv had been absolutely sweethearts to Alessia during her stay, but she needed time to herself, time away from eyes that were waiting for her to break.

Slowly and quietly, she shuffled to the kitchen, not a single object out of place since she left. Alessia grabbed a water bottle, the first source of intake she allowed her body to have. The Greggs paper bag perched on the counter, dismissing what Viv had gotten her.

In the safety of her own home, Alessia felt her body ease into itself, the familiarity of these four walls secured her protection and well-being. Something Alessia never thought she'd crave so much.

She went in search of the only person wanted, needed. Weights were lifted off of Alessia's chest when she caught you sleeping in bed, looking ever the most peaceful. A state that she wasn't going to ruin with the truth.

Alessia brushed loose strands out your face, laying on her side, snuggling up in your arms absent from the scary world. Her breath hitches as you pull her closer, "You're back." Your voice husky, eyes still shut half-asleep. Alessia's fingers found your dog tag, turning it over to see the engravement of her name and jersey number. A chain you wore proudly. "I'm back."

"Did you have fun?"

Her fiddling stopped, a small shutter of breath escaped her as the haunting hours came back, this is where Alessia was supposed to spew a little white lie. But she couldn't. Never has Alessia lied to you, never thinking she would need to. This would be a lot harder than she thought.

"Less, is everything okay?"

Your eyes barely opened, the bright light peaked through the curtain nerved your sensitivity. Alessia used her finger to soothe your wrinkles, humming as she tried to lull you back to sleep. "Can't remember much of it. I had too much to drink."

Two lies in one.

Alessia remembered everything and frankly, she didn't drink enough to forget.

You patted her back, comforting, "That's alright. You're home now." Your words brought her more comfort than you can imagine. Alessia was home now; she was home with you, within these four walls. She couldn't be more safer than she is right now.

In your upcoming years as a fighter, you were taught to control your emotions going as far as to eliminate them. The human instinct to feel sympathy for beating another wasn't an option when it came down to winning titles.

By default, you suppressed them to the alternatives outside the cage. Thus, you didn't experience the depths of anxiety or stress like many others did.

But, in recent times it seems as if you're experiencing life in a new manner. You've never been more uneased as you have in the past week. Even minutes before your matches were you never this stressed.

And the main reason for it all is Alessia. The only person in the world to cause you to feel things you normally wouldn't. A blessing and a curse.

Alessia wasn't acting like herself lately, a bit distant something she never was before. Alessia, by nature, was clingy. She clung onto you like a koala does a tree, cuddles, hugs, anything to make your bodies become one, she did. Which is why, her being so distant with you was concerning.

It's been a couple of days since her behavior shifted, at first you thought it was due to the rough start of the week, you were back in camp for your next fight thus your time with Alessia was shorten, she as well was dealing with some tension at work, none she was willing to elaborate.

You figured she needed some alone time to get through.

You tried to be there when she seeked you, yet she hardly did. And you didn't want to push her during a tender time, so you let her be until she was ready. Though, that didn't stop you from actively caring about her, little things such as making her breakfast, washing her uniform, nothing excessive in your mind. Still, Alessia appreciated it all.

Curiosity spiked when she began to wear long sleeves as if it were a second skin, typically you'd brush it off, thinking she hopped on some sort of fashion trend, but the summer heat had her drenched in sweat.

Your attempts to get her into your shirts-which she loved to steal and wear-was useless. Refusing constantly, Alessia stuck to her long-sleeves. You didn't push further, despite your worry each time she went out.

The electricity bill was off the charts that month in turn to keep her cool.

Your agitation heightened when Alessia started to spend more time in the guestroom, it was odd at first considering she rarely stepped foot in the room, in the two years you've lived there.

Guests sleeping over wasn't common therefore your guestroom remained unoccupied most of the time. Not anymore now that Alessia had taken the room for herself.

Aside from the guestroom, it appeared as if you were living alone. You were the only one occupying the common spaces, Alessia nowhere to be seen unless you looked for her. Eventually, your small time together doubled down to nil.

It pained you to see Alessia isolate herself, the last time she acted in such a way was when she was coping with body issues. An unpretty chapter in Alessia's life that none of you spoke about. To prevent a defense lock if confronted, you did whatever you could to build Alessia's self-love without addressing the matter upfront.

It was a bit difficult at first since Alessia's determination to avoid you persisted. You were limited to passing compliments, soft touches, and love letters that you laid in the middle of the bed for her to read when she got home.

Your brief time didn't stop you from showering your girl with the love that she needed and deserved.

The rough week passed and Alessia semi-returned to her normal state. She went back to stealing- your shirts, a more fitting attire for the summer- and her time in the guestroom lessened. She still retreated to the room here and there for an hour or two, nothing you were too worried about now that she seemed better.

Everything was going back to place that is up until, the festival incident.

It happened on a Wednesday afternoon, you and Alessia had gotten caught in the middle of a London festival. One you were aware of too late and thanks to your ignorance, Alessia faced the consequences.

You pushed through the busy festive, pulling Alessia by hand. Bodies pressed up against each other tight spaced, trumpets and cheers blaring in your ears. Rising temper balancing on the cliff's edge as you kept trying to find an escape route, the provoking factors placed you and Alessia on the brink of disaster.

You stood at a whopping six feet using the height advantage to look for an outlet, naive to the shifts in Alessia's breathing. Behind you, Alessia felt her mind and body going haywire.

She could feel her heart beating against her chest, head whipping side to side anxiously seeking for an out. Her throat closed up at the multiple touches on her, she shut her eyes to block out her surroundings but that only made it worse as she instinctively focused on her senses.

Alessia's eyes snapped open, feeling you tug on her. She instantly found your figure, taking her all to concentrate on you. Alessia internally struggled to not think about the prying flashbacks at the back of her mind.

It fought so hard to come forward, to torture her in broad daylight, but Alessia fought harder. She tried to pinpoint the difference between then and now.

The sun was the first she identified, the sun gave her clear view of everyone and everything around her, unlike the colored lights in the dark club. Then there was you. You were the major detail that differed to Alessia, you were there to protect and love her, that's all Alessia needed.

Yet, it didn't stop the strength draining from her body, replaced by what Alessia could distinguish as emptiness. It was in her best efforts to push down the vile feelings, but it was all in vain.

You stumbled back as you felt a cease in Alessia's step. You looked over your shoulder to see her head down, her form shaking like a madman. Without thinking, you closed the distance, calling out to her, but she made no sign that she heard you.

You lifted her head, eyes gaping when Alessia's red teary eyes made contact with yours. Less than a second, you wrapped Alessia in your arms, forcibly pulling her through the crowd, recklessly pushing people out of your way.

You sighed in relief as you and Alessia finally broke free of the bustling street ducking into a small alley. You leaned up against the building, Alessia sobbed into your neck as you settled her. Tears flowed nonstop, you ran your fingers through her hair, humming to tune out the festival's band.

"Can we go home please?"

Alessia looked up at you with her big blue puffy eyes, your heart broke. Your thumb wiped away the lone tear, pecking her forehead. The answer was a no-brainer, you pulled down your hood on Alessia's head, guiding her out the alley and to a taxi, keeping her as close as possible through it all.

For the next few days, you and Alessia isolated yourselves from the world. Alessia didn't want to speak further about it and as much you wanted to, you knew better than to push. You were just glad she wasn't shutting herself in the other room like before.

And Alessia hated it, she hated that you were walking on eggshells with her. She didn't want you to treat her as if she's fragile. Alessia's strong, she knew that she believed it, so why didn't she feel like it?

Instead, she felt suffocated. Alessia began to loathe herself because of it. The constant looks over her shoulder, checking her body as if bruises will appear, it's been two weeks and she can't move on.

A concern started to brew in Alessia's mind, she feared that your relationship may be the cost of her erratic paranoia.

In attempts to salvage or drag out the inevitable, Alessia spent more time with you, she no longer went on your daily walks, but rather to sit on the balcony for her daily fresh air. You didn't mind, she knew that you only went on those walks because Alessia suggested it first, couples' cardio she said.

In all her years, Alessia didn't know what to do, she didn't know how to save herself.

Too stuck in her head to feel Kyra poking her, the Australian entertained herself jabbing the mindless blonde. Giggling when Alessia didn't flinch at the dirty towel thrown at her face.

The younger picked up her water bottle spraying at Alessia, bursting out laughing when she screeched. "Kyra! Go away!" The mischievous player dodged the towel thrown back at her, running away before Alessia could do worse.

Alessia wiped the wetness with her shirt, thankful for Kyra unintentionally pulling her out of her prisoned thoughts. Leah patted the striker's shoulder, pitiful that Alessia had been chosen to be on the end of Kyra's pranks. "So, is the hound coming next week?" Alessia's lip twitched at your alias.

"What's next week?"

"You forgot? The sporting event remember, Jona told us two months ago."

Alessia racked her brain, trying to remember the said event. Then, it hit her, it was a small thing some organization was having to spread the word of football, gain some investors, nothing Alessia wanted to do with. She shook her head, tying up her laces. "I'll skip out. Not in the mood for socializing."

Leah gave her a look, "Mate, it's mandatory. You can't get out of it." Alessia groaned, her plans to laze around with you was a bust. Alessia liked the small bubble, you and her built in your time together, and she wasn't planning on leaving it so soon. But, it looks like she didn't have a choice.

"I'll ask her."

"Is there really a point to? We all know what she's going to say."

Alessia pushed Leah, the captain grinning cheekily at her, a teasing underlining in her words. Everyone who knew you and Alessia's relationship personally knew that you'd do anything she asked.

If Alessia wanted food from a place a town a way, best be known that you're driving all the way there. If she wanted a new car, you're taking her to the dealership within the next hour. In this case, you'd be attending before you were even made aware of it.

"Okay, I'll stop with the teasing...for now. We'll see you there, oh, and it's a white-themed dress code. So, tell the missus, no black. It's not a funeral." Alessia snorted, waving to Leah as she left the locker room. The drive home was about as peaceful as one can be after a long day at work.

Alessia pulled into the lot, funny enough, catching you as you stepped out of your car with a takeaway bag. She kissed you, your favorite way to be greeted by the love of your life.

You swung her gym bag over your shoulder. "What did you get?"

"A protein bowl from that Japanese restaurant down the street and your usual."

Alessia grinned, pecking you on the cheek. "You're the best." You hummed tiredly, holding the door open for her. "I have to speak to you about something." You perked, thinking that she would finally be open about what's happening these few weeks.

"There's this thing, me and the girls are attending. It's obligated that we go but on the bright side, we can bring a plus one. So, darling will you be my plus one?"

You deflated, disappointed but smiled nonetheless. Setting the bag aside, wrapping an arm around her waist, "I would love nothing more. Now, let's eat up. I'm starving."

"It also has an all-white attire. So, no digging deep in your closet for your black suits, darling."

"Son of a bitch!"

"Damn, mami!"

Alessia fought back a smile as you exclaimed loudly, she placed her hand in your reaching one, unable to fight a growing grin any further. She squealed as you spun her, her dress flowing in the air. "You look so good. Are you trying to put me to shame?"

Alessia rolled her eyes, slapping your chest, passing over to the mirror to put on the finishing touches to her outfit. "You flatter me too much." You looked at your girlfriend through the mirror, clearly offended by her words.

"If this is too much, then I'm not doing a good job. Because my girl deserves all the compliments in the world."

You rested on her shoulder, Alessia applied her red lipstick, in your mind she did it too slowly. "You do an excellent job, my love. I can promise you that." Alessia handed you her necklace, beaming at the sight. It wasn't just any necklace, but a 23-karat diamond necklace. One of its kind, personally designed for her.

You gifted to her on your first anniversary, a token that she belonged to you, an object of your love for her.

You clipped it, staring intently as she stroked the diamonds around her neck. Alessia's eyes flickered up to you, blushing, instantly recognizing the emotion swirling in your eyes. You bowed down to kiss upon it, your gloss sticking to her neck painting it with the outline of your lips.

Alessia tilted her head to the side, eyes closing in bliss. You pulled her closer by the waist, your fingertips resting on the zipper. Alessia pulled away when she felt the dress loosen around her, "We can't." You huffed at her breathless words, drooping your forehead on her uncovered back.

"Why? No one will notice us missing."

"Kim will. She'll have me running laps next practice."

You rezip up Alessia's dress, creating some needed distance. "We can't have that now, can we? Let's get going before I rip that dress off." You led her out of the flat, focusing on the numbers as the elevator went.

Internally fighting the urge to drag Alessia back to bed and have your way with her.

You grunted, feeling the hovers of Alessia's fingers dancing across your chest as she played with the buttons on your shirt. You wore a white pantsuit, two out of five unbuttoned, revealing your cleavage and dog-tag.

You looked too good, the longer Alessia studied you, the more regret bubbled in her stomach. She jumped at the elevator chime, you chuckled removing her hand from your chest, intertwining them. 

You opened the car door for her, bending down to match her height as she sat in the passenger seat. The proclaimed passenger princess. "You gone a little quiet, Less." She ignored you, texting whoever was on the other end of the line.

You mockingly pouted, "Don't be bratty with me, love. You're the one who didn't want to take one for the team and run laps." You chuckled at Alessia's silence, walking to the driver side.

You cleared your throat, sipping on a glass of bourbon. Classical music played while businesswomen and men spoke as if they'd do any actual work outside this meaningless gathering. You scanned the room; blinded by the bright white all around. Not an interesting thing in sight.

You concluded that white parties sucked, and parties hosted by old men sucked even more. Them and their greedy ass money, you grimaced as the cheap liquor coated your throat, their inability to buy a good brand irked you.

You hid away in the corner with Alessia and her team, hanging off Alessia's shoulder like a piece of meat. You had no business being there, other than being her eye candy.

Usually, you'd be talking to Katie about her newly collection of red cards that never seemed to stay consistent, but she was too busy sucking up to her girlfriend and there was no way you'll get in the middle of that.

You prepared yourself as your eyes caught Kyra walking over after being shooed off by Leah, the mischievous smirk on her lips let you know that she found her next target, you.

Kyra plopped beside you, instantly ambushing you. You smacked Kyra's prying hands, "Kyra down! Down Kyra!" The little tussle wasn't fair, you refused to remove your arm from Alessia, but even with one hand, you were stronger than Kyra.

The younger girl ignored your demands, continuing her attempts to wrangle your drink out of your possession and into her mouth. "Kyra! I'll buy you a fucking drink! For fuck sakes!" Immediately, like an obedient puppy, Kyra unlatched herself from you, hands intertwined in her lap as she smiled innocently at you.

You whispered your departure to Alessia, well aware that you were doing everyone a favor by taking Kya away. "Follow me, you brat." She trailed behind you, sticking her tongue out at Steph when the older Australian caught her shadowing you to the bar.

As you left with the little troublemaker, the atmosphere in the Arsenal corner became a little calmer. Alessia giggled At Vic's story, the Dutch dodging the slap Alessia delivered, poking fun when she missed.

Vic's laughter died down as her eyes caught on something or someone. Alessia of her own subsided, curiosity knocked on her chest as Vic's body language changed into something Alessia couldn't identify.

"Less, is that the guy from the pub a few weeks back? The one who-"

Vic couldn't bring herself to finish, the effect still remained with Alessia, it was evident to all the girls. Alessia slowly and surely began to act like herself again, but the Arsenal girls knew better. They knew better than what Alessia was leading on.

She squinted as if it would help her see better through the vast crowd, a few bodies shuffled to the side revealing the reason for her all her recent troubles.

London was a big city, the percentage of running into the same people is less than one. The world had to be playing some sick joke on Alessia, as though it wanted blood to be spilled tonight. Something Alessia's been terribly trying to avoid.

Warmth drained out her system, suddenly everything felt chilly yet sweat lingered near her hairline. Alessia struggled to allow oxygen into her lungs, head snapping left and right,desperate to find you.

Vic tried to calm her, speaking in hush tones to get Alessia's attention. But it was useless, Vic called Leah over. Despite yelling for Leah, the entire team heard the urgency in her voice.

They rushed over, huddling over Alessia's shaking figure. Leah kneeled, cupping Alessia's face in her hands, coaching her through her panic. "Less! Alessia! Breath! Mate, breath!"

You shoved Kyra when she blew in your ear, rubbing the ticklish feeling away, never have you met someone so fearless of you. Granted everyone knew you wouldn't hurt Kyra despite her annoying antics. "You little shit, I swear-"

"Are you that MMA fighter? The Bloodhound, right?"

Kyra snickered, you pursed your lips giving her a look, one that meant that you're little fued wasn't over. You turned to the man in suit, he looked like every man in the room...dull. Can no man dress to save their life?

"Yeah, what's up?"

Kyra peeked over your shoulder, wanting a look at who took your attention away from her. Dread, that's all Kyra felt at the sight of him. She couldn't forget him, the bastard that hurt her best friend, someone you didn't know existed until now.

Kyra was aware of Alessia's severe desire to keep what had happened at her birthday celebration a secret.

Steph and Caitlin practically drilled it in her mind, not to slip up when you were around. Kyra didn't expect to see him again, no one did. But, to have him up front and center talking to you freely after what he had done to Alessia, sickened Kyra.

The Aussie searched for her teammates, hoping to catch someone's eye to tell them of the presence of their number one hit list. And Kyra did, however, it wasn't as she had hoped. Laura frenetically waved her over, pointing to you urgently.

"Do you mind if we took a picture?"

Before you could answer, Kyra wasted no time, pulling you away in the direction of her team. You let Kyra do as she pleased, taking in her hurried steps and anxious expression to mind. "Kyra, what-"

"Yn!"

You rushed past those in your way, cupping Alessia's face in your hands. Deja vu hit you like a truck, red teary eyes staring deep into your soul. You placed her on your lap, coaxing her to take deeper breaths. "I'm here, baby. I'm here."

You looked at the Arsenal women for answers, their troubled aura triggered the heap of anger lying underneath your skin. "What the hell happened?"

Some stared at you and Alessia with sorrow, others avoided your eyes, looking at literally anything else.

Out of everyone, the only person who had the galls to look you in the eyes was the captain herself. "Mate, it's not for us to say." Leah glanced over to Alessia, silently telling you that if you wanted answers it would have to come for her.

Leah loved Alessia like her own sister and she couldn't watch her be destroyed by what happened and as your friend, she couldn't allow you to suffer in the dark, clueless.

"Less?"

Alessia's refusal to meet your eyes remained, your jaw clenched. You loved her with all your being, but the anger brewing was too hot to handle. Everyone knew something you didn't, something regarding Alessia, and it didn't take a genius to know that it was serious.

"Alessia." Your voice stern, you were no longer allowing Alessia's excuses to fly over your head. Alessia shook her head, "Please. Please don't make me." Your heart clenched at her pleading, deep down you didn't want to pressure her, but she left you no choice.

"Alessia, what am I missing? What are they hiding? What are you hiding?"

Alessia looked at her friends for help, at the back of her mind, she knew they couldn't. But it was worth a try. Lia nods in encouragement, something so small but so powerful for Alessia.

She cradled your jaw, leaning in your ear, unwilling to see your murderous anger spiral to what she knows will end in crime scene.

The gunners observed as your face hardened, concern switched to rage in seconds. Your brows deepened, jaw and lip tight, what caught their attention was your clenched fists. Veins popped out from your arms to the back of your hand, knuckles ready to take some action.

Alessia pulled back, caressing your pale knuckles. Her lips moved but nothing was coming out of them. You couldn't hear her begging you to not do anything, you couldn't hear her tell you she loved you. You couldn't hear anything but your blood pumping in your ears.

You abruptly stood up, bringing Alessia up with you. You passed your fiance to the nearest person, Beth. "Get her out of here." You pecked Alessia's forehead, ignoring her calls for you to come back. You head to Katie, the sole person on the team who supported violence. "Where is he?"

Wordlessly, Katie pointed him out and what do you know? It's the same dude that asked you for a photo, you scoffed at the sheer audacity of men. You pushed past Katie, sidestepping Leah's hand.

You expertly navigated through the crowd, stalking up to him. Even at a distance, you could make out his figure, he was lean and scrawny, nowhere near your built physique.

You sized him up as you approached, just in time, he turned to notice you, overlooking the smoke coming out of your ears. "Hey! Back for that pic-" His words cut with a right hook to the cheek, and in no time, he dropped to the floor.

You climbed on top of him, balling his collar in your fist, the other delivering strike after strike.

The feeling of your knuckles connecting with his jaw was exhilarating, with every punch you imagine his bones cracking. You grunted as he fought against you, but he was weak.

The first blow was enough to knock him on his back, the countless you landed after offered multiple hospitalization conditions.

You yelled as you felt hands pulling you off. You shoved the random men off you, glaring them down as they took in your physical state. "Touch me again! I'll fuck all of you up!" You momentarily forgot that this was a sports event, the people surrounding you most likely knew who you were.

You watched recognition hit them now that you were in your true form. They heed your words standing back to let you do what you were trained to do. They couldn't save a man getting beaten, but they can definitely save themselves from you.

Huffing, you quickly grabbed the bleeding man by the throat, slamming him onto the bar. The sound of glass pierced everyone's ears, but you paid it no mind. Holding his upper body against the bar, smashing his face in.

You were aware that even your worst opponents didn't get this type of treatment, he was different. He touched your girl, he hurt her, and he was going to pay for it with his life. "Why did you touch her?! Huh?!" An answerless question, you didn't want an answer.

And it wasn't like you were going to get one, the amount of blood flooding his mouth limited him aside from his faint pleas for you to stop.

That only angered you further. "I'm gonna fucking kill you!" You let him fall to the floor once again, neglecting the slippery coat on your hands.

Alessia watched from afar as you mounted the stagnant body, repeatedly bashing his face. Beth tried to drag her out of the venue, but Alessia's too stubborn.

You did so much critical damage in a short span period, even from where she stood Alessia could see the blood streaks on the bar and floor. Leah took off first, Katie, Stina, and Steph following behind.

They all knew that you weren't going to let up any time soon and if you weren't stopped now. You were actually going to commit homicide.

Leah and Katie hook their arm around you, yanking you off. "That's enough! He's down!" It was a struggle for the two, you were too strong for them. Steph eventually aided in holding you back, and Stina helped push you four towards the exit.

Alessia quickly ran after you, the rest of the gooners chasing behind, unable to fight the curiosity to check the result of your wrath. When they got outside, they were met with you kicking a poor trash can into the road.

The four that dragged you out stood a safe distance away. The street bustling with dim lights and occasionally passing cars.

Alessia joined the four girls, knowing better than to interfere in your fit of rage when it was at its peak. Alessia studied your new appearance, growing breathless.

Hair ruffled; shirt wrinkled...stained with red patched. It was what Alessia was afraid of, you covered in red. You had blood splattered across your face; blood handprints swiped across your neck, your fists being the most coated.

You rubbed your hands together as if you were moisturizing, the blood quickly drying due to the cold night air. You sighed, a bit calmer now, muttering nonsense to yourself as you paced up and down the sidewalk.

Alessia took it as her cue to walk over, none of the gunners tried to stop Alessia. Wise enough to know that you would never hurt Alessia even in a foot of rage. "Baby. Baby." Her voice was soft, not to startle you.

Your wide eyes darted to her, unexpected by her presence. You were too lost in your fury to be conscious of your surroundings.

She tried to reach for you, but you retreated, shaking your head. "I'm okay, darling. You won't hurt me." You swallowed the lump in your throat, Alessia tried once more, pleased when you didn't move away.

She grabbed your hands, inspecting the cuts on your knuckles, it was hard to see but Alessia managed to pick out the open wounds.

She ignored the blood on her hands, roughly pulling you into a hug. The weighing of all these weeks came crashing down on Alessia, relief flooded her. However that relief was cut short by the sound of sirens, "We have to go! Now!"

Alessia balled the bloodied clothes, throwing them in the trash, it consisted of your entire outfit along with her dress. Its beauty gone as soon as another color tainted it.

Alessia didn't want a reminder of what happened tonight, even though it represented the degree you'd go for her. You nearly beat a man to death for her, guilt tormented Alessia.

The last thing she wanted was for you to run into problems because of her, Alessia roused from her mind upon hearing the water ceasing. Alessia walked into the bathroom, leaning against the doorway.

You sat in the tub, steam rising from the water. You held out your hand, silently offering her to join.

Alessia didn't think twice before she began stripping from her undergarments. She hissed at the heat, lowering herself deeper into the water until it reached her collarbones. Alessia rested back into you, your arms wrapped around her nude waist, burying your face in her neck.

You two sat in silence, embraced by the steam and contents of the hot water. There were no words to explain tonight, Alessia wasn't going to scold you and you weren't going to apologize. You both knew that tonight was needed for both your sanity.

When you passed Alessia over to Beth, the separation that you placed between you and her signified that you were going to do something she wouldn't like. Your attempts to get her out were for her sake, not yours. You weren't keen on her seeing the monster you become.

"I love you, you know that?"

Alessia rested her head back as you peppered kisses on her skin, her eyes fluttered open staring right in yours. Eyes that held love, more than she's ever seen in her life. "I know."

Alessia didn't need to say those three magic words back, you knew, you always knew. What you need to know is that if she knew. If she knew that you loved her more than the world could imagine. 

[liveontelevision]

I saw someone do headcanons on Lucifer and I know you'd write it perfectly. They basically said that if you were to ignore him, he'd practically BEG and WHINE like a bitch to have you talk to him. Even if it's telling him he's pathetic. As long as he hears your voice.

Ofc don't feel pressured to do this if you're busy or anything else, Ily🫶🏻🫶🏻 keep up the great work! :]

OKAY MORE SMUT (seriously, mdni 18+)

Sorry this one took forever but I'm prettyyy sure it's worth it. Let's just say this is Lucifer discovering some new things about himself :D

And ILY THANKS FOR THE REQUEST BBG

Ignorance is Bliss | Lucifer x Reader

♡♡♡

Becoming comfortable with the King of Hell as his partner was easy. He made sure to cater to all your needs and give you everything you asked for. Overall, Lucifer was a sweetheart and a gentleman. And this was especially the case in bed. Considering his immense powers, he was giddy to fulfill any of your fantasies you'd have, no matter how bizarre. After being with him for long enough, fantasies dissolved into curiosities. Some nights became spicing things up in the bedroom in ways that you'd never consider, just to see how much you could handle. Now? you wanted to see how much he could handle.

Neither of you were comfortable with bringing intimacy to the public, not without proper care, at least. But what if you could work him up in a way only you knew about? Tease him throughout the day? How desperate could you make him without touching him? You couldn't recall where you picked up this idea, maybe somewhere online at some point. Knowing how deeply devoted he was to you, he was sure to hold a great reaction to this.

You were together when the hotel was renovated, so it was an easy transition for you. Everyone already aware of your relationship and loving you in turn made your afterlife seem like less of a punishment.

His top priority was your comfort when you both moved. He made sure to be close to you in group settings, keeping a hand on you at almost all times. Whether that be a hand on your thigh or the small of your back, or simply having his fingers intertwined in yours, it felt like a relief for both of you.

But with this little act you were pulling, you would lean away from his touch, and make excuses to disappear for the afternoon. Or in the halls, where he'd usually greet you with a quick kiss or I love you, you'd pull out your phone as you approached him, or simply smiled with your eyes barely looking his direction. He would swear, if anyone asked, that this wasn't bugging him one bit. Not. At. All. You were all his at the end of the day, you could treat him however you want and he'd submit. He's fine. He's acting fine.

When it came to the hotel, there weren't many demons jumping at the chance of redemption in the beginning, so some nights turned into drinks, games, and music. You felt so incredibly lucky to be a part of this family, your eyes scanning across the room and taking in just the pure enjoyment of everyone around you. The center of it all tonight was Lucifer. He was going on about some fantastical story that involved a circus in some other ring of Hell, that then evolved into sharing baby photos of Charlie. His eyes always sparkled when he would talk about his daughter. You loved her too, of course, but your heart always fluttered when his admiration would show.

Still, you had that little experiment to play with tonight. As Lucifer went on about his stories, either entertaining demons with their content or his ridiculous retellings, everyone was drawn in. Not to mention, he was drunk and was acting like a fool, so he was even entertaining Alastor. With one foot on the barstool and the other propped on the counter, he acted out some ridiculous story that you paid no mind to. In fact, you made it a point to not react to anything, despite how intense he was becoming. You'd look down at your phone as he spoke. Or you'd start some random conversation with Husk, who really could care less, but he at least responded to you.

Keeping your eyes off of him was a challenge, but you could tell he was trying to get your attention when he'd brag about something. With no response, he would stutter mid-sentence, then change the topic after not getting the reaction he wanted out of you. With each ignorant glance, he took a swig of his drink.

He was seated after that, being scolded for scuffing the tables with his heels. That's when the ridiculous jokes began. You loved his jokes! You could listen to them all day, even laughing when he told you the same joke over and over. But not tonight, you had to remind yourself. You bit your tongue and sucked in your lips to hide any smile or laughter that might pass through. Still avoiding looking in his direction entirely, Lucifer was suddenly silenced. You looked up at him through half lidded eyes, then back down to your screen, mindlessly scrolling through essentially nothing. Charlie was quick to distract him with a story, he was nodding along and smiling as best he could for her. The party dwindled, leaving you, Lucifer and Husk.

“I-uh.. think our royal highness has had enough. You should take him to bed, kid.” Husk finally draws your attention to Lucifer, who has laid his head on the countertop, incoherently mumbling. You sigh and nod, taking his drink from his hand and rising to your feet. Just barely touching his shoulder, he immediately straightens his posture.

“Good call, kitty!” He had a habit of calling Husk that when he wasn't entirely there, it made both of you cringe, “Bedtime, my love?” He takes a hold of your hand in both of his and you have to remind yourself this is just for fun. The endgame has to be worth it. You pull away, already walking through the portal he had created when he was talking. He looked at you as you stood in your shared room, still seated at the bar. Finally turning, you sigh and place your hands on your hips.

“C’mon, Lucifer.” You said absentmindedly, using a beckoning finger to draw him in. He eagerly jumped from his seat following you in, even with his chest aching. You didn't normally use his name. Usually it was darling, or my love, or good boy if he was acting accordingly. He takes a hold of your arm as the portal shuts, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, then running small pecks along the length of your arm, stopping at the start of your shoulder. You let out a small, almost nervous sounding chuckle, before reeling back.

“Didn't see you around the hotel today, darling. Did you do anything fun?” Lucifer sways as he speaks. Maybe small talk would help? He was trying his hardest to act casual and keep a clear conscience considering how much alcohol he’s had at this point. You shake your head, pulling your top off. You decide to sort through your clothes long enough to let Lucifer catch the sight of you bent at the hips, rummaging through a dresser drawer while topless. You could hear him gulp. He starts the same way, but struggles with the buttons on his vest.

“L-love, I might need-” his intoxication is clear in his voice at this point. After throwing on some sort of silky slip, you sigh and turn your attention to him. Looking down and fiddling with the buttons, he begins to lose his balance and finds himself leaning against a wall for stability. You approach him silently, and easily undo each of his buttons. You'd be lying if this alone wasn't making your stomach flutter. Even then, it was easy to keep your cool after seeing that he was clearly enjoying this too much. You notice his labored breathing as he braces his arms against the wall, allowing you to run your hands across his bare chest and slipping his shirt and vest to the ground with some maneuvering. You keep your hands at his hips for a moment, he lifted his pelvis away from the wall, maybe hoping for some kind of friction. You were lingering barely an inch away from his lips. Hearing the smallest whimper seemed to remind you of your mission, so you quickly pulled away.

“Good night, Lucifer~” just that sentence alone sent him spinning. Your lips so close to him and your voice so smooth, he was beginning to enjoy the sound of his name in your mouth.

More. He needs more.

As you crawled under the covers, you made it a point to hum and moan as you stretched and settled in. Pulling your phone back up to your face, you barely had time to look at anything before a clawed hand had slowly pushed your device down, revealing a very red-faced Lucifer.

“Is something wrong, love? Can I.. help you?” He was genuinely worried. You almost felt guilty at that moment. With a final sigh, you set your phone aside and cupped his hot to the touch cheek in your hand. He immediately let the weight of his head fall into your hands, humming contently at the long overdue contact. Still, you shake your head in response to him, keeping your lips sealed. His lip finally starts to quiver and he lets out a shaky breath.

“Please, I need your voice, love.. I miss it- I miss you.” He almost breaks you, so you decide to reward him for this display at least. You silently press a kiss against his eager lips. He's ready to pull you in and ravish you with that alone, he’d do anything to hear your voice. You pull away. He tries making connections in his foggy mind, tracing through the past few days to see if there was anything he might’ve done for you to be this cruel to him. He can't think of any wrong doings, but.. he'll do anything.

“P-please? darling?” He stammers out, continuing to crawl towards you and sitting prettily on your lap. The view itself drove you mad. You could keep your lips sealed, but you couldn't prevent the blush becoming apparent across your cheeks. He hums, satisfied with this reaction at least.

“I don't know what's going on with you, but.. I love you.” Oh, shit. “.. I love you~” He repeats.

You keep your eyes away from him. This one was a struggle.

“T-That’s fine, don't tell me about your day.. o-or laugh at my jokes, but, darling-” he turns your head to face him, a hand lightly bringing you forward by your chin, you notice his eyes glowing. “I love you.”

…

Fine.

“I love you, too.” You said it quietly, a hint of defeat in your tone. He immediately perks up, shifting his grasp on your chin to thumb at your jaw, nearly encompassing your throat with his hand. Closing the already very small gap between your lips, he eagerly explores your mouth with his forked tongue. You yelp into his lips in surprise, before pushing him away carefully, seeing how much of a mess you've made him from just that phrase.

“Lucifer, that wasn't very nice, was it? You have to ask.” You said sternly, sitting up to rest your back on the headboard and pulling him with you to keep him seated on your thighs.

“W-Wha.. Ask? To kiss you? Well that seems.. rather…” He questions with a nervous laughter, waiting for the punchline. You only nod your head in agreement.

“Well.. can I kiss you, then..?” He asks awkwardly. It was cute enough, But this wasn't your original vision.

“Mmmm- no.” Making a big show out of tapping your chin and letting your eyes wander around the room, you finally look back at him.

“What? Oh- um.. please?” He clarifies, a now nervous smile present on his face.

“Please, what?” You start running your hands across his abdomen, letting them interlock behind his back and pulling him just a bit closer.

“C-can I kiss you.. please..?” You thought he'd be agitated at this point, but his voice is dripping with desperation. He likes it. You see his hips shifting just above your thighs.

“Hm. Maybe.. I just don't think you want it enough, my love.” You say sweetly, pouting as if you felt any remorse. You ran your hands up his chest, then back down his sides, brushing your fingers just slightly below his belt. He huffs.

“Sweetheart! I-I do want it! please..? I want you, p-please..” He finally moans out, panting heavily only from your hands along his bare skin. You couldn't help but smile, and finally give him what he wants. With a gentle kiss onto his lips, it's clear that he's shaking with anticipation. He wasn't jumping you like before or taking the lead to suffice his own desires. It's as if he was waiting for permission. You weren't going to give in that easily, though.

You pulled away after that single kiss, looking at him like you had just asked a question and were waiting for a proper response. Finally catching his breath, he braces himself up by keeping his hands on your shoulders. He looks at you with the sweetest puppy eyes, shifting his weight on his knees to ease the growing discomfort pressed in his pants.

“More, my love.. I need more- I-I need you to-” He's still rambling. You hum, letting the hand that had been sitting on his hip palm at the bulge in his pants. You learn forward, pressing your lips against his skin and running your tongue up his neck. He shivers, the sudden sensations after being ignored for so long already forces a pathetic sound from him, music to your ears. Your kisses become sloppy, and your little nips will surely bruise and shine by the next morning.

“I-I want- ahh~” He’s keeping up with it? You thought for sure this little game of yours had ended. You won and you're giving him the attention he finally needs, yet he's still begging for you? “talk to me.. darling-” he chokes out, moving his hands that had been tightly gripping your shoulders to cup your cheeks. You were pulled back by his touch, a slightly shocked expression on your face. “Please.” His eyes were brimming with tears. A single line of golden blood and saliva dripped from his mouth from biting a little too hard on his lip, in an attempt to keep his noises at bay. You moved your hands away from his buldge, which had accumulated a wet spot onto his trousers, then went back to trailing your fingers across his skin again.

“Okay.” You respond. He perks up at your acceptance, the little sparkle in his eyes brings a smile to your face. “Since you asked so nicely.” you said sweetly, “So.. how badly did you miss me? Only a few days like this and you’re already a mess.. did you miss our little conversations? My voice?” You question softly, brushing your thumb across his cheek to wipe away some stressed tears that had fallen. He nods, holding onto your hand and burying his cheek into your palm.

“-My touch?” You massage his hip, letting your hand drift closer to the clasps on his pants. He nodded again, much more eagerly this time. “Hm. Good.” with one final kiss to his lips, you push him to the side, swapping your positions, to where you were hovering over him with your arms caging him in. He barely has time to process the quick switch, before feeling your hands tug his pants. He's moaning at the sensation alone, holding onto whatever he could find, gripping your wrist in one hand and balling up the sheets in his other.

You linger above him, your lips just above his. You could feel him panting heavily against you, even before touching him. You'd normally be passionately entangled at this point, But here, you got the chance to see his face. You were enjoying taking your time with this one.

“You're being such a good boy for me.. you're doing so well.” Your eyes flutter shut to capture him in another heavy kiss, and you reach unto his pants, planning to slowly relieve his stress. A sudden request leaves his mouth, stopping you for a moment.

“N-no..! Nono.. love, my name. Use my name- please..” He's shaking his head, finally mustering the courage to make his request. Another new development. God, he was perfect. You move to his jaw, pressing kisses up to his ear before breathing heavily against it.

“Lucifer-” you finally say. He lets out a pathetic whimper, clamping his grip down onto your wrist and bucking his hips into your sudden, yet tantalizingly slow, palming. “You're doing so good for me, Lucifer. My Lucifer. My sweet, Luci~” you mutter into his skin, beginning to pump your hand a bit faster. He is doing so good for you, afterall, he deserves it.

This wasn't the only game you wanted to play tonight. you wanted to fully take care of your poor neglected king after all you've put him through. After toying with him for long enough, edging him from release each time, you finally let him rest. You pull away, after bringing him to the brink and tearing him away each time, you were reveling in his pretty tears. All the senses you were enrapturing suddenly put to a halt, forced him to look at you desperately. You fully dismount him, leaving him nude under your gaze. Slightly embarrassed, he pulls his legs together. You rest your hands gently on the top of knees.

“I’ll need both tonight, Luci.” You say casually. This was something you've tried before, and it was definitely due for a second round. You felt he needed the extra love. He nodded, his face completely heating up. walking your fingers across his legs and helping him take his trousers completely off, you were treated with the pretty sight of his already soaked pussy, that sat quite nicely below his already overstimulated cock. The combination of his two sexes was enough to drive a whimper even from you. You quickly dip down, your own desperation meeting his. After bringing him to the brink beforehand but not letting him finish, it wasn't long before he was squirming and whimpering under your touch.

Even with all that, he was still begging you for more. Drunk off his juices already, you ran your tongue up from his folds, flicking at his clit, then sending a heated trail right up to the head of his cock. he arches his back into the full exposure, and you have to keep your hands on his thighs to keep his legs from shutting. The agonizing moans and gasps he was letting out only made you want to hear more. Hastily pushing three fingers into his entrance, his voice cracked out some resemblance of your name. He doesn't use his other sex often, so when you get the chance to eat your fill, he's almost always struggling to keep any composure. pumping his cock in one hand, you skillfully pump and curl your fingers into him with the other, all the while maneuvering your tongue and lips to suction onto his clit.

“Mm-! I-I can't- ahha- take… anymore- m-mmy love-” He's stammering. You pull away for a moment to let out a single phrase,

“What do you say, Lucifer?” Before continuing your brutal overstimulation. Only hearing more whimpers, you slowed your motions, waiting for a proper response. You only speed up your movements, after keeping your thumb lightly pressed against the top of his head.

“P-Please-” he shoots his head back into the pillows, his legs already shaking. “Please, can I-I-” You hum against him, sending a mild vibration that still made a big impact, before lifting your thumb just slightly.

“You may, Lucifer.” You run your tongue across his entirety again, enclosing his cock into your mouth and taking in his final thrusts.

Still whimpering and gasping, you continue to bob your head, moving slow circles across his clit, and causing his body to fully tremor beneath you.

You finally sit up, enjoying the view beneath you, while wiping away anything that you didn't manage to already swallow. Even with his eyes closed from the pure exhaustion, he's muttering your name under his breath. You still don't know how you managed to get this lucky, so you appreciate his drunken appearance for a moment longer before cleaning him up and eventually settling him under the covers. You hold him tight to your chest, your limbs intertwined. Even with immense angelic power, he returns your embrace weakly, with shaky arms.

“I love you, Lucifer.” You hum, pressing a kiss onto his forehead while brushing some hair from his face. He's still catching his breath, “Luci-” you say just as sweetly. He barely opens his eyes to meet your gaze, still silent. With a gentle grip on his chin, you pull him upwards to fully face you. “I love you~” You repeat.

“Mmn- love you.. dear…” He grumbles, still clearly dazed from the events of the night. Running your thumb along his lower lip, you muffle his tired moan with a kiss, before letting him rest his chin comfortably against your chest. You’d say your little experiment was a success. And you're sure Lucifer learned a lesson along the way; He has to ask for what he wants.

♡♡♡

Hope you like intersex lucifer bc I recently discovered I LOVE INTERSEX LUCIFER

More requests and the next part to Suffer is comin' up soon 🫶

!Taglist!

( @vififofum / @thornwolfy235 / @tinywolfiegirl / @chipper-chip / @bat-boness / @misfitgirlwrites / @nayomi247 / @lonelynmisunderstood / @escapistoftherealworld / @b4ts1e / @hamthepan / @kyo-kyo1 / @looking1016 / @polytheatrix / @littledolly2345 / @lillianastuff / @yourlocalcryptidbee /@0strawberrysorbet0 / @themageofblood / @jayyyayaysblog / @floralsightings / @azmosposts / @8har0ley8 / @actuallyspiderwoman / @sirenetheblogger / @christineblood / @kaytemchugh / @cimadreamer / @simpdevil66 / @azmosposts / @m3ow1 / @acrazyartist / @redfoxwritesstuff / @4k1to / @meesachan / @corvusskid / @alientee /@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx / @alon3lylov3r /@sapphireravensworld / @mjmdragons / @catticora )

[adourly]

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: office activities with alhaitham, zhongli, and diluc. 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: a little ooc with zhongli's part, reader is afab, semi public sex, adultery in zhongli's part, nothing too explicit, semi food play with diluc, no actual sex, let me know if there's more to add ! 𝐚/𝐧: hiyaa ! my requests are open for thirsts, fic ideas etc. ‹𝟹 also play miniskirt by aoa [] this was so bad im sorry

⋆ 𝓐lhaitham — 512 words.

you walked to alhaitham's office, holding a stack of blank contracts regarding his work. as you approached his door, you were delighted by some of your coworkers, waving and greeting you with good mornings. your black heels stopped at the front of his wooden door, as you took a moment to pull up your miniskirt, showing a little peek of your thighs with the black tights you were wearing.

you knocked on his door, a slight twinge of nervousness making your palms sweat. boss haitham wasn't up for small talk and wasn't a fan of long conversations either. as usual, he spends his days in his office and comes out occasionally for a cup of coffee.

''come in.'' he said, your hands twisted the doorknob to finally reveal the state he was in. his hair was messy, empty cups here and there, but all organized in one spot. he glanced up at you while you turned around to close the door, noticing how you swayed your hips.

''did you miss me?'' you asked him, walking up to his sad desk, and placing another pile of papers. you walk to the side of his table, taking all of the empty paper cups and stacking them on each other. ''do you ever come out of your office?'' ''when did you learn how to behave like that?'' he rebutted, staring at the loose button on your dress shirt, revealing a small sight of your cleavage.

''what do you mean?'' you ask, leaning on the desk, giving him a better view. he sighed and looked away, sorting the freshly printed stack of contracts you placed on his table. ''you know what i mean,'' he said, taking the cap off of his pen to start signing away again.

he was gone for 5 days, away on a trip to somewhere he didn't mention to anyone for a meeting with an important client. even though he treats everyone in his building like total crap.

it would be an understatement if you said you missed him. after all, you were his favorite. ''i just wanted to check up on you as your loyal operative,'' you said, going behind his chair and turning it around to face you. ''i'm busy.'' he warned, as your finger hooked his tie, pulling him towards you, straddling him.

''aw, i thought we could have some fun.'' you said, playing with his navy tie and silver buttons. his hands moved on instinct, placing both hands on your waist. he lifted you up and placed you on his desk, your miniskirt lifting up to give a view of your inner thigh.

''how does it feel?'' he mutters, unbuttoning the buttons left on your dress shirt. three of your colleagues walked past his office, thankfully his blinds were closed. you heard them laughing, probably talking about some random stuff that occurred to them in their day. ''acting like a slut to your coworkers frequent?''

he slips a hand under your shirt and fondled your boob. ''then, i'll make sure they know how needy you are for me.''

⋆ 𝓩hongli — 440 words.

zhongli was also a prolific worker, never seen tired or with eyebags coming out of his office. some would say he wasn't the one doing all of his work and had someone that does it for him.

it wouldn't be that surprising, considering his building looks like it came out of marvel. he would visit your little corner sometimes and would claim it was just for ''inspection''.

''how's that paper going?'' he asked, watching you from behind eagerly. you jump at his sudden approach, but you continue working. ''it's going great.'' you reply, your hand evidently shaking on your mouse. zhongli sighs, setting his cup of tea on your desk and leans in from behind.

your boss only had eyes on you. whenever you came to deliver papers to him in his office, purposely making you come back and forth to his space every so often.

some of your coworkers joke that you were hired as his maid, not his employee. but, that didn't sound half bad. you didn't mind being at his beck and call whenever he wanted, as long as he promised to hide it from everyone else.

thankfully, zhongli was good at it. small pecks here and there, light squeezes on your ass, his eyes were anchored to you and you only. you didn't know what you two were. you heard of these before, friends with benefits? no, you two have never even fucked yet.

you could feel him breathing as his hand landed on top of yours on the mouse. ''it's ctrl+d, darling.'' he spoke, doing the command flawlessly on your keyboard. his neck was close enough to your face, his strong versace eros making you clench your thighs. ''ah.. i forgot...'' you mutter, instantly distracted by scent.

his authority over you only made you wetter and crumble under him. this is wrong, you thought. a lot more because his wife talked to his employees in the other room, sharing laughter and smiles. a part of you was filled with regret, all of these moments you two share were forbidden;

but it only made your head spin more.

he hummed, his hand tightening around yours. ''be quiet for me.'' for a split second you were wondering what he was talking about. suddenly, you felt his warm breath on your neck. ''w-what?'' you ask, your breathing becoming rigid. ''try not to make noises, alright?'' he nips at your skin, occasionally licking and kissing here and there.

your hand landed on his head, gripping his hair, your mouth letting out a small moan that only he could hear. he whispered on your skin, ''good fucking girl.''

⋆ 𝓓iluc— 699 words.

ragnvindr was intimidating. he never spoke to anyone, and never needed anyone's help, he was a lone wolf when he worked. he's always the first one to arrive, the last to leave.

he was never interested in any celebration his employees would have, even if it would be his birthday. he prioritizes his work, but you knew a side of him no one else does. behind closed doors, his headstrong and fierce attitude was contrasted with his caring and subtle side.

he called your number and asked you to bring his delivered food from the lobby to his office. it wasn't out of the ordinary that your boss only eats once a day, many of his employees would bring him food but offer it to someone else instead.

''understood,'' you reply, leaving your chair and taking the elevator. his building was big and modern, a big sign with his brand tattooed on the front of it. you head down to the lobby and see the delivery guy.

''for y/n?'' your eyebrows knit together in confusion, but you take the food anyway. you could smell the scent of it from miles away. you walk up to the elevator and press floor 5, pondering why your boss would name it to you.

nonetheless, you make your way to his office, but a few of your coworkers are interested. ''hey n/n! is that for us?'' your friend jokes, as he waves to you. ''nope, you've already eaten all of the snacks sir ragnvindr provided.'' your friend scoffs at your joke, then giving you a smile as you smile back.

you finally reach his doorstep, knocking subtly. ''it's open.'' the man says from his desk, giving you permission lazily. you open the door. ''good afternoon, i have brought your food.'' you voice, walking up to his table to set the paper bag down.

''have you eaten yet?'' he asked, but you smiled. ''i'm full at the moment, but i appreciate your concern-'' ''sit,'' he demanded, you pulled the chair out of the table and sat across him. you were confused, first, he named the food after you, which isn't normal. usually, the name would be the company's name or his, but this time it was yours.

you were eager to know, but you kept silent in the meantime. he took out the sticky honey roast from the paper bag and took the plastic knife, slicing it in halves. your mouth waters at the sight, of your favorite food ever.

''eat with me.'' he asked, he grabbed the two places he must've requested from the restaurant and placed one in front of you. ''sir, i have work to do. i cannot take breaks in your office while my coworkers are out there working-'' diluc sighed, putting two slices of the roast on your plate.

''i heard this was your favorite,'' he said, completely disregarding what you said, as you smiled in defeat. diluc didn't waste time to take a bite out of it before you, a sparkle in his eye appearing from the taste. you cut out a piece and ate it, not noticing the honey spread on the corner of your lips.

diluc had noticed, ''come here.'' he asked. you tilt your head in confusion, ''why?'' ''just come here.'' you leaned on the table and faced him, your faces inching close to each other. his hand trailed on your cheek, rubbing his thumb on it, as it wandered down to your lip.

he scooped up the honey off the corner and licked it off clean. ''tastes sweet,'' he remarked, while his hand placed itself behind your neck, pulling your face in for a kiss. it was nice, slow, and passionate. you tasted the honey in his mouth, and you were sure he tasted it in yours too.

your hands landed on his shoulders, latching onto him as the kiss deepened further. you can see from the window the view of the paparazzi outside of the building and many people scattered around to take pictures beside it.

he then pulled away, licking his lips once more to savor your taste. ''but, you are sweeter. come here and let me feast on you.''

©adourly 5/11/2024 - do not copy, translate, modify my works.

[thoughtidtry]

Dress Pt.2 - LN

SUMMARY: Lando's best friend can't keep pretending he's not her everything. Not after missing seeing him in person for so long. PAIRING: Lando Norris X LongDistanceBestfriendfem!reader A/N: Inspired by Lando's race win and song Dress by Taylor Swift. 2.6k+ words (Honestly thought it would be shorter lol) LMK in the comments if you would like a pt.3! Part: 1

"Inescapable, I'm not even gonna try."

From the moment you were in Lando's arms, he never let go more than he had to. While showing you around the McLaren garage he made sure to guide you through with slight touches or nudges in the right direction. You knew there was no way he was letting you out of his sight. With his hand placed firmly on the small of your back, he explained every corner of the garage in painstaking detail while knowing you probably didn't really care. Something about the way you attentively listen though made it seem like you hung on his every word. 

Really, you had just missed his voice. Phone calls could only do so much to make up for the distance between you two. It had been something you both had gotten used to over time. Now you didn't know if you could ever go back to not being beside him. The hours before the race started passed faster than you had hoped they would. Something just clicked when you were together like you had never been apart in the first place. 

Soon you watched from the side as Lando talked with the engineers and strategists about the race plan. You had seen him in racing attire before, back in secondary school, but the memory did not prepare you for just how good he looked. He couldn't stop smiling, not when he felt your gaze on his every move. After he had finished talking to everyone, he made his way back over to you with a headset in hand. 

"Here let me put this on you, it connects to the radio in my car so you can hear me during the race."

You nodded along in understanding as he placed the headset on your head and fixed it to the correct settings. Earlier, Lando had told you they recently made upgrades to the car and that it would be the first race to test them. This made you hopeful for the results of the race, you knew how much Lando wanted a win. The excitement of everyone in the garage could be felt as they made final preparations.

"You're gonna do great Lan, I just know it."

You beamed up at him with the widest smile possible. Lando couldn't help but smirk a bit letting your confidence boost his own. He reached to stroke your cheek as he spoke.

" Of course I will, I've got you here to cheer me on. I always do better when I know you're watching the race. Just imagine how I'll do today with you actually here."

You look away feeling yourself start to blush while trying to figure out how to respond to that. Luckily, Lando's name was called as the race was about to start. Quickly, you stand and swiftly peck his cheek whispering good luck in his ear before pushing him towards the calling engineers. He looked back, shaking his head a bit before jogging to put his helmet and other stuff on.

"My hands are shaking from holding back from you"

Watching a race in person was exhilarating for you. The energy in the garage made every turn, overtake, and pit stop more suspenseful. Getting to hear Lando’s voice through it all made the race even more real. He hadn’t had a good start to the race but was quickly making up for it by getting the fastest lap multiple times. 

A crash happened towards the back of the race resulting in a safety car being put onto the track. Lando had already passed the pit when the car was released, giving him an edge. Once the race started again his engineer was avid about keeping a gap between him and Max. As the final laps dwindled, you felt overcome with hope. This could be it, Lando’s first win. 

As Lando crossed the finish line you heard his cheers over the radio. The joy and relief was evident as you knew how long he had waited for this. 

One of the mechanics was kind enough to escort you over to where the winners would park their cars. The whole McLaren garage ended up walking together to the spots. Once you all arrived, you slipped a bit away. As much as this was Lando’s win it was theirs and they didn’t need some random girl in the middle of their celebration. 

You watch from your spot as Lando pulls up and stands on the top of his cars. The crowd was cheering his name and many drivers made a beeline for him after parking their own cars. It was clear how loved he was not only by his own team but by everyone here. His large smile would forever be etched into your mind as he received hugs from everyone and even started a crowd surf with the McLaren employees. Your hand were shaking with all the excitement built up in your system. 

Everything was perfect, at least you thought so, but you noticed Lando kept looking around. Was there a specific driver he was looking for or some important person? 

Lando was on cloud nine getting out of his car parked in P1. He was a race winner after so long fighting for this moment it felt right to have you here. He wanted to find you and celebrate as soon as possible. 

As all the drivers came up to him he wanted to soak in the moment but he just kept looking around for you. Were you still at the garage? Turning to see the McLaren team waiting behind the barrier he knew what they were waiting for. 

Starting at a full sprint he launched himself into their awaiting arms. It was then on top of his teammate he caught a glimpse of you off to the side with a smile as bright as the sun.  As soon as he was back on his feet he was making his way to you. 

When Lando’s eyes found you it was like time stopped for a few moments. Before you knew it he was headed straight for you. He crashed into you, wrapping you up in a bone-crushing hug while lifting you off your feet. You squeal a bit as he begins to spin you both around before tilting your head back to laugh. 

“You did it Lan! You won!”

Lando set you back on the ground as you started to speak. He could see the spark of joy in your eyes as you spoke. 

“Told you I’d do better with you here”

Lando exclaimed, smirking as he looked down at you in admiration. 

“Knowing you were cheering for me made all the difference. I couldn’t disappoint you after you came all this way.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment, he could never disappoint you. It didn’t matter to you whether he came in first or very last place as long as he was happy. Before you could tell him that a staff member came up to grab Lando for his post win interviews. He nodded to let them know he was on his way and let you know he’d be only about half an hour. Calling another McLaren mechanic over, he asked if they would see you back to his driver room after the podium till he was finished with the media. 

With that he was off and you followed the mechanic over to where the podium celebration was to be held. The ceremony was amazing as the two other drivers covered Lando head to toe in champagne. He didn’t even have a chance to open his before the other two started their assault which made you laugh. Once they had moved on to their next victim, Lando walked to the front of the podium doing his signature move to start spraying the champagne all over the crowd before spraying the other driver as well. 

"I don't want you like a best friend"

The interviews didn’t take long so Lando was back and ready to leave the paddock not long after arriving. Oscar had been sneaky when helping you book a hotel for your stay and you were apparently staying at the same place as the drivers were. 

Lando noted to thank Oscar again as he ushered you to his car stopping along the way to sign autographs and take pictures. He filled you on the plans for tonight as you drove and what time to be ready by. 

Once at the hotel, you went to your separate hotel rooms to get ready. You pulled a dress out of your suitcase packed specifically for this see Lando again. It was a beautiful purple dress that hugged the top of your torso while still being flowy. After taking a shower and getting ready you texted Lando to let him know. Turns out most of the drivers were already dressed and down in the lobby. Quickly you grabbed your clutch and made your way down.

Lando was smiling as he put his phone away after answering your text. He and a couple other drivers had finished getting dressed early so they were in the lobby while waiting for the rest. He felt a nudge on his shoulder and found all the other drive smirking at him with knowing eyes. Max was the one to speak up always most blunt when it came to feelings.

"So are you gonna tell her how you feel or are you just gonna let her go again?"

He didn't know much about your friendship with Lando but he knew the younger boy was smitten. The other drivers piled on words of encouragement and how they could tell you liked him back. The more the others added, the pinker Lando's cheeks got until he finally defended himself.

" I just don't want to lose her guys. Now shut up she is on her way down."

The other drivers chuckled while shaking their heads but they left Lando alone after that which he was thankful for. Looking around he noticed you starting to make your way over and stopped in his tracks. He hadn't forgotten how beautiful you were but in that dress, it was like you were enchanted. He knew Max was right, he wanted more from you than just a friendship, he always had. Ever since that day in secondary when he had introduced himself he had wanted more, to know you more, hear your laugh more, be near you more.

The sound of laughing gave away their location long before you saw the group. From the looks of it, they had been teasing Lando about something as his face was lightly pink. He was looking towards the ground wearing all black and a backward cap. It made you smile a bit at how flustered he seemed by whatever they had said. Only a few seconds had passed when he caught your presence.

You grew a little nervous under his gaze and began to play with the hem of your dress as you came to a stop in front of him. Looking up into his eyes, a mostly green color now, you softly whispered

"Hey, Lan."

You clear your throat while tearing your eyes away from his to speak to the whole group.

"Hey guys, everyone ready to celebrate?"

The other driver let out a cheer and Carlos showed up a moment later. Apparently, he was the last one the group was waiting on so everyone began to decide how we were getting to the club.

“Only bought this dress so you could take it off”

Once at the club the boy immediately went to grab drinks while you stayed back with the other drivers' girlfriends. Girlfriends. Something you could only wish to be. They were nice and asked many questions about how you were, what you do, and how long you have known Lando. You explained with ease the timeline that led you here. Lily was the first to speak, seeming to be a bit in shock.

"Wait, you're the mysterious best friend? The one Lando has kept hidden away like a treasured prize?"

The other girl nodded in agreement at her statement. Had Lando been too embarrassed to talk about you? You felt a bit ashamed for a moment looking down. Lily was the first to notice, adding on with a kind smile and a bit of laughter.

"Oh, no! It's not a bad thing! Trust me. He lights up anytime you even text him. It's more like he doesn't want to share you honestly. I was just surprised he finally let the princess out of her tower to be seen by the rest of us. That boy is head over heels-"

Before Lily could finish her sentence you felt an arm snake around your waist. You turned assuming it would be Lando but you had been mistaken. The man before you was taller with brown eyes and reddish-brown hair.

"Hey, wanna go dance with me beautiful?"

The man smiled as he looked you up and down. He wasn't a bad-looking guy, not as handsome as Lando though. Someone else probably would have agreed, but someone else wasn't in love with their best friend. You tried to step away as his hand on your waist just felt wrong but he was able to grab onto your arm before you were fully free.

"Oh come on, just one dance couldn't hurt. I doubt your friends would mind."

You tried to pull your arm free but his grip was firm. The panic started to set in as you looked to see where Lando was. He would help, he would always save you.

"Her friends might not mind but her boyfriend definitely will."

A familiar voice called from behind you as your head snapped toward it in relief. There he was, your Lando, he looked pissed, flanked by an annoyed-looking Max and an angry-looking Carlos. The man quickly released your arm and turned to storm off with a scoff. You stumbled back a bit before Lando caught you. With no hesitation, he wrapped his arms around your waist before leaning down to speak in your ear.

"Can't let you out of my sight for a minute without someone trying to steal you huh?"

Your face turned bright red as you turned to him feeling a wave of confidence. Was he jealous? The look on his face was downright murderous at least. Wrapping your own arms around his neck, you leaned up to speak in his ear.

"We both know you're the only person this dress would come off for."

Lando stood in shock for a moment as his grip tightened on your waist. It only took a moment for his lips to crash into yours. You could taste the alcohol he had been drinking and feel how tense his body was before he relaxed into the kiss. Sure, you had kissed other guys before but never had anyone kissed you with so much overwhelming passion. Breaking away from the kiss he sighed.

"How about we get out of here?"

You can only nod still thunderstruck by how passionately he had kissed you. Lando smirked at the effect he has on you while leading you over to the group of driver not far away.

"Hey guys, were gonna head out."

The drivers look in between the two of you with knowing glances and exchange goodbyes with Lando as you two start to leave. You look back and wave goodbye to everyone as Lily gives you a thumbs-up. Blush rushes to your face as you both get into the taxi with Lando giving the hotel's address. You can't help but stare at him in the moonlight. He glances down at you with a smile.

" You know I'm never letting you go, right?"

You smile up at him with love-struck eyes. At this moment you decide, you would do want ever needed to stay by his side from then on. The company you worked for has offices abroad, and you could travel if needed, you would do anything to stay like this.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pt.3?

Taglist: @scarletwidow3000

[steddieas-shegoes]

congrats on 3000!!! 🎉🍾🎊💖

For the sentence prompt: "I'm just gonna go freak out for a minute first."

Thank you!!!! ♥️

➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰

Steve was holding his hand while the doctor checked his stitches. It wasn’t really that weird for him to be holding his hand, not since he woke up half-dead in the hospital.

It was a little weird that he was rubbing his thumb against the side of his thumb, though.

And probably a little weird that his other hand was resting on his head, a weight that was comforting and confusing all at once.

“Looks great, Eddie. I’d say by the next visit, we’ll be able to get them out and let these finish healing naturally,” the doctor smiled at him as he pulled his shirt back down.

Steve’s hand squeezed his, and he couldn’t help looking over at the sunshine in the seat next to him.

It had to be pretty obvious how he felt about Steve. He’s lucky none of the kids have caught on and started teasing him yet.

Robin has, but at least she knows to do it privately.

“I’ll have the front desk schedule you for two weeks out. You can grab an appointment card on the way out. Keep them all clean and don’t do any heavy lifting or physical activity quite yet,” the doctor reminded as she pulled off her gloves and threw them in the trash. “You boys have a nice day.”

As she left the room, Steve helped Eddie sit up slowly. He didn’t really need the help anymore, but he’d be an idiot to admit it with how much Steve touched him.

“Two more weeks, Eds! That’s better than what they thought last time,” Steve was so excited for him. His smile was lighting up the room and he looked five seconds away from bouncing on his feet.

“Yeah, it’s great.”

“Aren’t you excited?” Steve’s smile dropped at Eddie’s tone.

“Yeah! Yeah, it’ll be great to have less limits. Might be able to get the guys together for a jam session,” Eddie gave a small smile.

“But…?”

Eddie sighed. “But then you won’t be around anymore, right? Like, other than when we all hang out on movie nights. You only stuck around because no one else could really help me every day. Everyone had work or families that wouldn’t let them out of their sight.”

Steve looked heartbroken, and Eddie couldn’t figure out why.

“Eddie, I’m not gonna leave you just because you don’t technically need me anymore,” Steve shook his head. “We’re- we’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Of course! I mean, I thought so. But I know it could just be that you feel bad and I wouldn’t expect you to stick around because of that.”

Steve grabbed his other hand, his grip tightening on Eddie’s skin almost painfully.

“I wanna stick around for a lot of reasons, Eds.”

Eddie was caught in his gaze, his wide, pleading eyes almost too much.

“Like what?”

“Like because you’re fun to be around. You’re funny and talented and smart. You taught me about Hobbits! Love those guys,” Steve stepped closer. “You’re brave and you care about all of us. You-“ Steve swallowed. “You see me. The real me.”

“What do you mean?” Eddie’s heart was racing as he looked between Steve’s eyes, down to his lips where his tongue had poked out momentarily to wet them.

“You’ve seen me when my parents have come home and made me feel like shit and you just distracted me with singing whatever pop songs are on the radio and helping me cook dinner. You’ve been there when I had a two day long migraine and couldn’t even stand up to go to the bathroom. You made grocery shopping fun! I fucking hate grocery shopping, but you just keep being silly and making me laugh and I had fun.” Steve leaned in so his forehead was touching Eddie’s. “You laugh at my jokes, even when they aren’t that funny. You listen to me when no one else pays attention. You see who I am and you let me be who I am and I don’t feel scared that you’ll run.”

“I’m not running.”

“I know. I love that you aren’t, that you won’t.” Steve closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, they were watery. “I love you.”

Eddie was certain he was dead. Maybe the last month had all been some coma-induced dream and they finally pulled the plug. Maybe he actually died in the Upside Down and the last month was his final goodbye to everyone in his own head.

He stood up slowly, trying not to push Steve away, but having to guide him away from the table he’d been laying on.

“Where are you going? You’re not leaving, right?”

“Nope. I’m just gonna go freak out for a minute first.”

“Um.”

Eddie smiled, leaned in to kiss Steve’s cheek, and pulled away.

“Give me a minute. This is either the most realistic dream I’ve ever had or the best day of my life.”

Steve snorted, but let him walk to the door and stand outside of it for a moment.

When Eddie came back in, his cheeks were red, but he looked determined.

He pulled Steve into him by his hips, crushed their lips together, and smiled so hard their teeth clacked against each other. It was a little messy for a first kiss, but they could get better.

“You love me? Really?”

“I thought it was obvious,” Steve laughed as they pulled apart.

“I thought I was obvious!”

“Not really. I was convinced I was imaging things! Robin had to explain to me what the hanky code was before I even believed you liked guys!”

They both laughed so hard they cried, forgetting entirely that they were still in the doctor’s examination room.

Someone knocked on the door and they broke apart quickly, trying to stop the laughter for a moment to deal with whoever was at the door.

A nurse poked her head in. “Sorry, don’t wanna rush you, but just wanted to make sure everything was okay? Did you need to see the doctor again?”

“No, no. Sorry. We’re heading out. He just needed a minute,” Steve said quickly, smiling back at her.

She nodded and left, leaving the door open as a silent reminder that they needed to disinfect the room for the next patient.

“Steve.”

“Yeah?”

“I love you, too.”

“You don’t have to say it just-“

“I’m not. I’m saying it because I love you. I see you, remember? There’s a lot there to love.”

Steve turned a bright red, and Eddie decided then he would do just about anything to see that shade on Steve’s cheeks and neck as often as possible.

“Let’s go home,” Steve finally said when he recovered. “Wanna kiss you more.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

[mcflymemes]

EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE ALL AT ONCE (2022) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

in another life, i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.

the universe is so much bigger than you realize.

maybe we would have been better off if we had never gotten married.

why are you dressed all stupid?

you're just very bad at explaining.

how did i die?

he who loves the most regrets the most.

why would anybody want to kill me?

it's the way you look at me.

how do you think i feel?

you can either come with me and live up to your ultimate potential, or lie here and live with the consequences.

do you still want to do your party?

you are not unlovable. there is always something to love.

you think i'm weak, don't you?

can we just stop fighting?

you're capable of anything because you're so bad at everything.

i'm tired. i don't want to hurt anymore.

i still want to be here with you. i will always, always want to be here with you.

if nothing matters, then all the pain and guilt you feel for making nothing of your life goes away.

we're all small and stupid.

i wasn't looking for you so i could kill you.

so what? you're just gonna ignore everything else?

i will cherish these few specks of time.

i've been on this earth just as many days as you.

i know better than to ask to help you.

so we'll talk later... like this afternoon?

you look really pretty right now.

you took everything away from me.

we're all useless alone.

i don't know what i'd do without you.

i only made enough food for three people. i'll have to cook more.

i always learn something when i hang out with the elderly. old people are very wise.

everything i do, i try to make things simpler, easier.

maybe you can audition, too.

i don't know how to be any fucking clearer.

i didn't mean that. it was a joke.

the only thing i do know... is that we have to be kind.

i know you see yourself as a fighter.

that's not a very funny joke.

actors are very poor.

it's nice to feel needed.

i was thinking, maybe after this is all done, we can go on a trip.

if i have to think about one more thing today, my head will explode.

you may be in grave danger. there is no time to explain. hold this.

can't you see how wonderful it'll be? we can make our own way.

i'm here because we need your help.

sorry, very busy today. no time to help you.

i have spent years searching for the one who might be able to match this great evil with an even greater good and bring back balance.

i know it's a lot to take in right now.

i can see where this story's going, and it doesn't look good.

you're always trying to confuse us with these words.

i know you. with every passing moment, you fear that you might have missed your chance to make something of your life.

don't let anything distract you from it.

our time here is up. they are going to kill us.

i may be old, but i still know how to negotiate.

[writingroom21]

The Nanny

Pairing: rafe x nanny reader

Summary:Being Wheezie's nanny was great. The only downside is dealing with the oldest Cameron, Rafe. What happens when his fascination with the nanny becomes a reality?

Warnings: 18+, somnophilia, oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up), cream pie, consumption of drugs (weed and coke), angst, (let me know if I missed any)

Wc: 5.7K

A/N: Sorry this chapter took forever. I had finals and a research project I had to finish before I could finish this chapter. On a good note I'm done with the school year so I have update more. I hope that y'all enjoy it!

Chapter 5: Don’t go breaking my heart

The sun shining through the thin curtains glows on your face, the light seeping through your eyelids. You started to stir awake, there was a warming tingle in your lower abdomen that kept getting more intense. The more you woke up you could feel hands on your hips, a tongue licking up your folds slowly before circling your clit and giving it a suck. Cracking your eyes open, you look down your body to meet Rafe’s blue eyes. You moan, hand reaching out to brush your fingers along his exposed cheek and then grabbing the back of his head.

Rafe’s tongue separates your folds, probing at your entrance and going up to your clit again. His right hand glides over your hip, under your leg to find your pussy. His ring and middle finger circling your entrance to collect your slink, pushing forward into you and curling upward. “Been trying to wake you up for the past ten minutes. I made you breakfast.” His head tilts to the side, leaning down to give you a quick lick, his fingers pumping in and out of you. “But I think I’m gonna eat my breakfast first.” The end of his sentence being muffled as he buries his head in between your thighs.

You moan, throwing your head back, the feeling of his mouth and fingers causing your eyes to roll back. Moving your head to the side you look at where he pointed to, sure enough there is a tray sitting on the bedside table. Rafe’s fingers give a particularly hard thrust, scrapping your g-spot in the process. Your gaze goes back to him, his eyes are closed, humming into your pussy as he shakes his head side to side. You can see him grinding down on the bed, his pace matching the one of his fingers pumping into you.

All you can do is moan at the sight. He looks beautiful between your legs, the closed eyes just adding to your pleasure, just knowing he is enjoying this as much as you are. Rafe’s eyes open, locking into your face. “You gonna cum for me, beautiful? I can feel you squeezing my fingers.” His words vibrate around you; it sends shock waves to your clit, pushing you further off the cliff you were on the edge on. “Be a good girl and cum.” 

Your body convulses as your orgasim crashes through your body. “There you go. That’s a good girl.” His fingers don’t let up, slowly fucking till it’s too much for you to handle. He pulls his fingers out from you, licking you clean before kissing up your body. Stopping just to take your nipples in his mouth and giving them a few sucks. His body covers you, his arms caging you in. “Good morning.” He says bringing the fingers that were inside you to his mouth, moaning around the fingers as he tastes you again. “Fucking delicious.” The compliment makes you blush.

“Good morning to you too.” You whisper at him, bringing him down to kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue. “Mhmmm I still think you taste better. Miss it really.” Your hand goes to pull his shorts down but is met with a wet spot on his shorts. You glance down and look back at him with a questioning look. Rafe buries his head in your neck not wanting you to see the embarrassment written on his face. “Sorry. Came in my fucking pants like a horny pubesent teen.” The words are mumbled into your skin. You take your hand and rub the back of his head, nails raking his scalp, relaxing him.

“It’s okay. I think it's hot that you did. Means you were enjoying it as much as I was.” Your lips are brushing against his ear, your other hand rubbing his back. “Yeah? How much were you enjoying it?” His tone was teasing, his fingers digging into your sides causing you to giggle. Rolling off you, Rafe gets up to grab the tray and hand it to you. “Here it might be cold but I thought you should eat something.” Rafe walks over to you, covering you with a blanket, placing the tray on your lap.

Looking down you can see that he made you. There’s a plate of scrambled eggs and two slices of toast with grape jam on them, a glass of oj along with it. But what really caught your eye was the pack of plan b that was laid out on the tray. “Rafe what’s this?” You ask, holding the package. He turns to look at you while pulling up new sweats. “Oh I got that last night while you were getting the food. Um I thought it’s better to be safe than sorry. You know, since we haven’t been using a condom.” He shrugs making his way back over to you, laying down next to you as you pick at the food.

“The safest option would be us using condoms. But that seems to be out of the question.” You munch on a piece of toast, bringing it closer to him so he can take a bite. Rafe licks his lips, the jam getting all over them. “Good that you know it’s not an option.” His fingers start to trace your arm, wrapping around your wrist to bring you hand over, placing a kiss to the palm. “I got us a few boxes. Didn’t want to run out.” You push him off of you, his lips leaving a slight warmth to your skin.

“Very funny Cameron. It’s a good thing you’re pretty.” You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth. You stuff another piece of toast in your mouth, hoping your chewing will hide the fat your heart is racing. You don’t know why you said it, you know you mean it but still. He’s never going to let this down, he is always going to remind you that you had called him pretty. “Hmm pretty. Haven’t heard that one.” He has a little smirk on his face when you look at him. “I think you’re pretty too Sunny.” The words followed by a sweet kiss. 

Pulling away you both can’t help but smile, Rafe leaning in once again to steal another kiss from you. “Finish up here and get ready. I’m gonna hop in the shower and then we are going out.” He shuffles off the bed, hunching over to peck your legs making you giggle. “I would finish faster if I had some good food. Like some chocolate chip pancakes.” You tease him. “You’re not six babe. You can’t just eat sweets for breakfast.” You gasp. “Of course I can. They are the best things ever created.”Wrong, he thought you were the best thing created. His thoughts had shocked him, he can’t be thinking like this. He would only ruin you with the cloud of violence that followed him. 

“Going where?” Your voice breaks his thoughts, he looks up at you for a second, hands massaging your calves. Rafe needs the moment to bury the thoughts deep down the vault he keeps the rest of his emotions in, locking them up so they can’t crawl their way out. “I’m taking you out on the Druthers. Wear that little bathing suit I like.” He winks at you before disappearing into his bathroom. You sit there on the bed, finishing the last bit of food before taking the plan b and getting up. 

It didn’t take you long to get ready, the shower being quick and picking out clothes wasn’t hard. You already knew Rafe wanted you to wear the lavender bathing suit you recently got. He went crazy when you first wore it by the pool, he wouldn’t leave you alone the whole afternoon. Always asking you if you needed a refill of whatever drink you had and even going as far as offering to add more sunscreen to your skin. Rafe was never shy when it came to flirting with you but that day too the cake, it wasn’t just flirting it was desperation at that point. The thought alone makes you squeeze your thighs trying to dull the throbbing between your legs.

You pull on shorts and a crop top, checking yourself out in the mirror you see a hickey on the side of your neck. A whistle catches your attention, you can see Rafe leaning on your door frame. “Now isn’t this a view.” He uncrosses his arms, pushing off the door and walking up behind you. He brushes your hair to one side kissing up your neck. His eyes are watching you through the mirror, focusing on your smile. Rafe leans his head forward capturing your lips, his hand making their way to your neck, placing a delicate chain around you. 

He pulls back, clasping the necklace in place and fixing your hair. You look down at your collar bone noticing the sun pendant resting there. “What is this?” The question barely leaves your lips, your eyes fixated as you play with the charm between your fingers. “I made another stop yesterday. I wanted to get you something pretty.” He’s not looking at you, eyes trained to your fingers playing with the sun charm. He clears his throat, eyes flicking up before moving back down. “It’s a sun because you know… you’re my Sunny.” 

His eyes are staring back at yours now. The two of you frozen in your spots waiting for the other to say something. Your eyes move back to the mirror, seeing writing on the other side of the small charm. You lean closer, flipping it over to see a cursive R on the back. “R?” You look back at him, turning around to face him. His left hand reaches to rub the back of his neck, scratching it. “Um… I just thought. I” He looks at you for a moment gathering his thoughts. He can feel the word vomit about to start and he wants to just change the topic, but then he looks at you. Your wide doe like eyes shining up at him, your hand reaching for his, fingers slotting together. “I wanted you to have a piece of me. I don’t know it’s stupid I just. Fuck I don’t like it when guys come up to talk to you, that they think they can have you. Just needed you to have me with you so you know you're mine.” 

“Do I need to give you something now so you know you’re mine?” His lips twitch into a smile, you’re just as jealous as he is.  Rafe wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him, one of his hands cupping your cheek. “Why would I need another girl when I have all that I want right in front of me.” He whispers, his lips crashing onto yours. He admitted he’s yours, in his own way he dulled all your worries. You pull away from the kiss, looking at him, loving the goofy smile on his lips. “I love it baby. Thank you.” 

Rafe’s thumb caresses your face, pecking your nose before dragging you both out of your room. “Come on, we should get going.” You pull back causing him to stop on the stairs, at this height you are taller than him. “Wait. I… I am yours, just so you know. I don’t just go sleeping around with people.” Rafe releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He pulls you down, kissing you. “I would really hope not. Don’t really want to be arrested for murder.” You giggle walking ahead of him. “Come one big bad wolf, you promised me a boat day.”

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The wind was blowing your hair all over the place, you had to keep swiping it away from your eyes. Rafe was in the boat's cockpit steering the both of you further out to sea. You were sitting on the bench looking out to the water, watching as the boat crashed over the waves.  A smell infiltrates your nose, it's pungent, you glance at rafe your suspicions confirmed. Rafe is standing there, left hand on the wheel, the right hand has a blunt pressed to his lips. You watch as he takes a puff, his hand resting on the wheel as he exhales. “What are you doing?”

He looks over his shoulder to look at you, turning ahead again and taking another hit. “Just having a quick smoke. Don’t worry I want to go off killing us.” He jokes, throwing you a little smirk taking a hit just to blow the smoke at you. You giggle, flapping your arms around to get the smoke out of your face. You stand up walking over to him, your arms wrap around his waist from behind, his beck to your chest. “I would hope not, I’m not close to being done with you.” Standing on the ball of your feet, you nip at his ear.

Rafe lets out a little groan, moving around to stop the boat, turning around to have you in his arms. “I like the sound of that. What do you want to do with me Sunny?” He taunts, walking around you to anchor the boat. “Well if you wouldn’t walk away you might be able to find out.” You are playing with the hem of your top, exposing your stomach. Rafe looks at you taking another hit before walking back to you. “Well maybe I don’t want us drifting out to sea. I don’t know how the sharks would feel about our show.” 

Rafe has the blunt hanging on his lips, removing his snapback he places it back on so it backwards. It distracts you for a moment, entranced by just looking at him. Sharks. Rafe just mentioned sharks. “Do you really think there are sharks?” You ask, eyes skirting around the water to see anything. One of his hands cups your face, forcing eye contact. “Hey. I’m sure there are no sharks around. Plus we’ll be on the boat anyway, nothing’s going to hurt you.” He’s right. The irrational fear you had of sharks and the creatures of the sea couldn’t harm you from up here. Unless there’s a freak storm and the boat collapses. You need a distraction, a change of topic.

You look down at the blunt Rafe is holding, there’s still half of it there. “What’s it like?” You’re genuinely curious. You always wondered what could possibly be so great about weed, all of your friends praised it but you just didn’t understand. “Getting high?” Rafe is confused by your question, he thought you didn’t care for this stuff. You turned down Benny’s offer when he asked, yet again he was being a creep so it’s probably a good thing you did. “Yeah, I always wanted to know.” He’s staring at you trying to think about what to say. “It’s like feeling on cloud 9. The thoughts in your head get blurred in this haze. Everything just feels better.” 

“Can I try it?” He watches your face for a second, trying to see if you are serious. When he doesn’t see any sign of you joking he straightens a little, shifting the weight from foot to foot. “Yeah, okay. Um how ‘bout we try this. Open your mouth for me baby, yeah just like that. Now when I exhale you inhale okay?” You nod telling him you understand. Rafe brings the blunt to his lips, taking a puff before leaning in. His lips are right against yours as he exhales the smoke into your mouth. You inhale coughing a little towards the end due to the smoke tickling.

“How was that?” Rafe asks, taking a hit for himself as he looks down at you. “Good. Can we do it again?” You step closer to him, grabbing his hand to bring the blunt to your mouth, ready to take a real hit. “Nah baby. Let's try one more time. Gotta make sure you know how to do it properly.” He smirks as he takes the hit, lips crashing to yours as the smoke rushes into your mouth to your lungs. He’s devouring you with this kiss, his hand going for your hip, squeezing it as he backs you into the wheel. He breaks the kiss looking down at you. “Good?”He whispers.

“Fucking amazing.” He slowly brings the blunt to your lips, watching as the wrap around the end as you take a pull. You wince from the slight burning pain, exhaling rapidly to release the smoke. “Alright I think that’s enough for you.” Rafe laughs out, taking the final pull before putting the blunt out. He’s probably right, your body feels so light. As if every step you take is actually on a cloud. You feel great. A giggle slips past your lips. “What’s so funny?” Rafe questions, pulling his shirt off to combat the heat.

“Nothing, I just feel great.” Another giggle leaves your body. There are tingles shooting throughout your body, everything just feels hazy. Rafe watches you with a smile, admiring the way your smile lights up your whole face. His eyes catch the necklace, liking the fact that in some way you're his. That’s why he really got it for you. You may not know it and the world may not know it but you’re his. The nagging thoughts start to claw at his chest, his throat tightening from discomfort. She’s not yours, this means nothing. The words swirl in his mind, you really aren’t his, you never will be. There’s no way that someone as perfect as you would want to be with someone as broken as he is. Rafe turns around making his way down the stairs to get to the little kitchen, trying to escape the raw feeling he has. “Want anything to drink?”

He’s gone by the time you try to talk to him, confused you follow his lead. “Sure, I’ll just have water.” Nothing else is said in return. You find him going through the fridge, his back is to you ducking down to get a view of what’s inside. You walk up closer, laying a hand in the middle of his back, doing a small soothing circle. He tenses at the feeling of your hand, handing you the water bottle and putting a distance between you two. “Is everything okay?” Rafe looks at you, noticing the wide eye worry look you have. It’s usually reserved for Wheezie or Sarah but now here you are, giving him that look. “Yeah, just got in my head for a second.” He tries to brush it off, change the subject before that look breaks his resolve.

“You know you can talk to me. What did I say about communication?” You got him, he knows if he voices his concerns, how he worries he isn’t good enough. That he would never deserve to be with you, how he can only hurt you in the end like he always does. He knows you would comfort him and tell him he’s more than that. But he can’t bring himself to do it, all the times Ward yelled at him for voicing his feelings, come rushing in. Be a man, this isn’t how men act Rafe. Grow up. So he does.

“Nothing to talk about, just something about tonight. Gotta figure out who I want to push to.” It looks like you believe him, for a slight moment the worry dissolves from your face. If you don’t believe him you don’t say anything, trusting his words you let it go. “Why don’t we go sunbathe? It’s getting pretty hot don’t you think?” You raise an eyebrow, setting the water down so you can remove your shirt and then the shorts. Being left in the lavender bikini you make your way out to the deck to lay down. Rafe’s footsteps can be heard following you, tilting your head you can see he took his shirt off. You stare at him, smirking when you see he left the backwards snapback on.

“You wore the bikini.” He states, laying down next to you. “It’s a good bathing suit. You should try it on.” You giggle, seeing Rafe shake his head and chuckle. “I don’t think it would look good on me. But you baby, fuck, it looks great on you.” He turns to his side facing you, his hand skimming along your skin, lightly pulling at the bottom of your top. “Let me rephrase, I suggest it because it requires you to remove it from me.” You turn now, looking at him, enjoying his arm pulling you closer. “I like the sound of that.” He leans in kissing you. Your senses are heightened by the weed, the kiss tickling your lips. 

You roll on your back, taking Rafe’s arm as you go. The sun gets blocked when he comes into your eye line. “You’re perfect Sunny.” His lips crash to yours, the kiss deepening as you spread your legs letting him get closer. His left hand slides up your side, cupping your breast, playing with it. You are just so perfect, made for him in every way. Your hips start to grind up, wanting to feel Rafe, wanting him inside. Soon he gets the message, grinding his hips down to meet yours. Through his shorts you can feel his dick start to get harder, he lets out a groan. Rafe pulls at the strings at your top, slipping it off of you making his way down to your chest. “Rafe please.” You whine grinding harder on him, the barely there bottoms makes it feel like there’s nothing between you. “Please, what baby? Hmm?” He latches onto your right nipple, his hand pinching your left one. He starts to rub it between his pointer finger and thumb, a moan escapes your mouth, your back arching up. 

“I don’t hear any words coming out.” he mumbles, pinching your nipple harder. “Please baby. I want to feel you inside me. Don’t you wanna fuck me?” He glances up through his eyelashes, his eyes locking to yours. “Been wanting to fuck you since I met you. I’m never going to give this up.” There are tingles spreading through your body at every kiss he gives your skin, making his way down until he reaches your bottoms. “God this bikini has been killing me.” His finger tugging at the strings and removing it. “Gonna do something about it.” You moan out as he kisses your thigh, licking a strip along to get a taste of you. You are glistening, the sun making your wet pussy look drench. Well you were, the weed made you feel horny, making out with Rafe definitely didn’t help. 

“Fucking soaked, Sunny.” He spreads your folds, licking up to your clit and placing a kiss there. “Rafe?” Your voice caught his attention. “Fuck me.” He gives you another kiss and goes back up to kiss you. “Your wish is my command.” You pull down his shorts, giving him a few strokes, teasing his tip with your thumb. He swats your hand away, lining his tip but not entering you. Rafe starts to rock his hips, his dick gliding between your folds. He goes on like that for a minute. Try to have you break, he uses his thumb to hold him closer to you, his tip hitting your clit each time. Every whine that escapes you sends shivers down his spine, he wants to fuck you but he needs you to beg him. “Please.” the airyness of your voice does him in.

The feeling of him pushing in is ecstasy, setting everything in your body on fire. His body is covering you, your face buried in his shoulder to block out your noises. You bite into his shoulder, fingers digging into his biceps as he rocks into you. The pace is nice and slow, different from the other times. Rafe’s dick drags slowly, every vein of his dick can be felt. Opening your eyes you are blinded by the sun, squinting them to adjust to the light. “Rafe” you moan out. His head moves, pecking your cheek, your nose, then your mouth. “I’m here baby.” His hand brushes your hair away from your face, holding you head, stabilizing himself with his arm. “I got you.” The words tickle you, his breath fanning over your lips.

The sounds of the waves crashing on the side of the boat fades into background noise. All you can hear is the sounds of Rafe’s groans and your own moans. The squelching of your pussy getting louder the more you get lost in the feeling. The feeling was too much, getting overwhelmed by the constant stimulation to your g-spot. “It’s okay baby, you can come.” The confirmation was enough to send you overboard. Your orgasim crashes down on you, shocking your whole system. “That’s it. Such a good girl for me.”

Rafe grabs one of your hands, bringing it over your head and intertwining your fingers. His other arms wrap around you, your head resting on his forearm as you are pressed together. “You feel so perfect. Fucking amazing.” He moans out, ready to cum at any moment. “Cum in me. I need you to fill me, baby.” You whisper into his ear. His hips start to flutter, losing his rhythm. “Come on, be a goodboy a fill me up.” He was done for. Cumming in you was just something that he’s been playing into, liking that he’s marking you in a different intimate way. Hearing that you want it, hearing you asking to be filled up by his cum was like winning the lottery. At least it was for him.

As he reaches his orgasim, Rafe’s body starts to shake. This is the strongest he’s ever cum, his arm and fingers tightening around you. You both lay there, bodies pressed to another. Rafe doesn’t let you go as he fills you, staying there until you tell him to move. Slowly he moves away, looking at your flushed face as he pulls back. He uses his shirt to wipe away the mess between your legs. “How are you feeling?” He asks standing over you causing him to look down. “I feel great.” Your hand blocks the sun from your eyes. Getting up you put your bikini back on and walk back to the steering wheel to head back home. The sun is setting now making the water look like it’s glowing.

Rafe makes his way over, starting the boat and costing off to get back. “You coming to the bonfire tonight?” Thinking about Rafe’s question, you don’t see the harm in going. It could be good to get out of the house, be around people other than each other. “Sure why not.” You shrug. “Good gotta show my girl off.” His hands reach for your waist pulling you in, his heading going to the crook in your neck, placing delicate kisses along the flesh. He’s doing it again. Messing up the lines, knocking down the walls you keep putting up. “Your girl?” You question tilting your head to the side, giving him more access. “Yeah my girl.” He mumbles against your skin.

 A warming sensation can be felt in your chest, going straight to your cheeks. You giggle pulling away, getting your clothes to put them on. “Okay play your cards right and that might be true.” You step on the balls of your feet, getting closer to his lips for a kiss. It lasts a few seconds, lips molding against each other. Pulling away you both smile. “I’ll meet you there, yeah? I gotta meet some people who are buying off of me.” His eyes are shining, it must be the light, but they look fuller, happier. “Meet you there.” The rest of the ride back to the dock was filled with silence. Both of you are enjoying the moment and thinking, everything seems to be working out. You don’t know why you were worried in the first place.

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Rafe got to the bonfire an hour ago, spending the time talking to some people and selling to others. He ran into Topper and Kelce around twenty minutes ago, catching up about what happened after the country club. The two boys not believing that you of all people would even give Rafe a chance. They knew he had a thing for you, he would tell them all the time what he would do if you gave him a chance. So hearing he got it, especially after that scene they don’t buy it. “There’s no way you are sleeping with her. She looked like she wanted to kill you the other day.” Topper laughs while taking another sip of his beer. Kelce starts to go in a different direction, calling him crazy for even going for it in the first place. Sure he thought you were hot and would do the same, but Rafe is crazy if he thinks this would work.

“Dude do you really think that would work out? She literally works for you.” Kelce laughs out. “She works for my dad, not me.” Rafe tries to argue. “Exactly. Imagine Ward finding out you’re banging the nanny. He’ll blow a casket once he finds out.” The rest of his words are lost on Rafe. Fuck he’s right, Ward would kill him. Ward would never trust him again, further making him the black sheep they labeled him as. “She always brushed you off this year. Don’t you think this is just something fun to pass the time? I mean she literally only slept with you because no one is home. What’s going to happen when the fam gets back.” Kelce’s words snap him from his own thoughts. You’re only sleeping with him because everyone is out of town. Of course this was just some dumb hookup, he’s the king of them why would he think differently.

Rafe walks away going straight to the keg to fill his cup, chugging it just to fill it once again. He can’t do this right now, his thoughts screaming at him at how much of a fuck up he is. He’s left alone for a week with you and he’s fucked up the rest of his life. An over exaggeration but that’s how he feels. He can already see his dad’s reaction, Ward screaming at him with that disappointed look that's only reserved for him. The negative thoughts keep whispering in his mind, confirming to him how messed up he is. He goes through the motions of the atmosphere around him, taking bumps of coke to chase the high he craved. Each bump clouds his brain, he hasn’t done coke in a couple of days. Not needing it to help him get through the day, to lay the thoughts to bed.

The coke makes him forget he completely promised to meet you here. At this moment he doesn’t care, only wanting to get high and forget about what is happening with you. He doesn’t know how it happens but soon enough he’s sitting off away from the party, on some log with this girl on him. She’s kissing him, grinding into his lap clawing at his head. Something feels off for him not really getting into it like he normally would. He blames it on the coke, since he hasn’t taken it in a while all the bumps are getting to him. It doesn’t matter to him, this is just something to distract him, that’s all he needs.

That’s how you catch him, sitting on the log with some girl on top of him. You got here almost ten minutes ago a little late due to you taking forever to get ready. You spotted Rafe’s truck when you got here so you thought finding him would be easy but you were wrong. There were a lot of people here, there normally is but this party seems larger. Bodies of people push up against you as you walk past them. You had seen Topper asking if he saw Rafe. He looked around saying he left a little bit ago not making eye contact with you. You knew he was lying since you saw his truck but brushed it off to continue looking for him. Shortly after you made your way to the outskirts of the party, away from most of the people, that’s when you saw them.

You just stand there and watch as he puts his hand on this girl, making out with her, practically fucking each other for everyone to see. You walk closer to them, your mind begging you to turn away but the other part needs to know if it really was him. It had to be your mind playing tricks on you, it’s too dark to even be sure. The girl pulls away from him “Why don’t we get out of here?” She asks, grabbing his hand as she stands, and you watch him nod to her request. Standing his eyes locked onto yours, tears streaming down your face. “Sunny?” You don’t want to hear what he has to say, you turn around trying to put as much distance between you and them. Rafe’s voice calls out to you, people turn their heads to look at the commotion. The sight being Rafe standing there frozen in place with a girl wrapped around him and you running off to where the cars are parked. 

You recognized the girl, she was one of the workers at the country club, Sofia. How dumb could you have been? Of course he was fucking other people, you weren’t exclusive. Thinking that all those moments and sweet words actually meant something to him like they did to you. The necklace feels like it’s burning into your skin, feeling heavy around your neck. You thought that it meant he actually cared for you, that he wanted you to be his. Fuck. You told him you were his, gave him a piece of you that no one has touched. You were stupid to think he would actually want to be with you. It didn’t matter what he said to explain himself, from this moment on Rafe Cameron is dead to you.

[happypotato48]

Wandee Goodday EP 2 Unhinged Tangent Thoughts

"Previously on Wandee Goodday Z. Doctor Wandee set his eyes on Mr. perfect Doctor Ter, but before the battle even starts our hero Dee got hit with the "I only like women." now after humiliated defeat, Dee rise up to meet his new challenger Yor-yak Phadetseuk. can our hero finally get to taste delicious victory or it he going to forever be consign to life of vanillaness. find out in this episode of Wandee Goodday Z!"

To zab or not to zab? an age old question, asks to themself by every repressed Homos that ever live.

Bitch! you just got offered free dick. and this hunk of a dick nonetheless. get off your high horse and go ride this bull of a man instead!

So you people probably figured this out by now. but yes Fluke is a really poppular thai boy name for millennials and gen z. i literally knew like 10+ different Flukes form just my school days alone.

Cher can you share your man with me. pretty please 🥺

Fuck you! how dare you wink your god dang eyebrow like that! เห็นใจคนไม่มีผัวหน่อยสิครับ.

Eyebrows!

Men, can't kill them, can't live without them.

Ok wtf, how is this dumb horny show give me the feels right now. Ohhhh those eyes, god damn those eyes. it's like staring into a hazy morning field touched by a gentle first daylight. i wish i could get lost in them forever..... anyway Hot man me likey!

I don't go there but Yak fursuit game is weak. forking amature smh.

Tank tops! hubba hubba. thank you show for putting all the men in tank tops. i will forever be in your debt.

No thank you. i really don't like this trope of a character getting saves from sa that so prevalent in BL and romance genre in general.

This man is a husband material, Dee. you better not break this poor man's heart. or i swear to all the lords of hell, i will bring down calamity on your ass.

Oh hello stereotypical gossipy gay. your kind was one of the first queer representations we got on thai tv. you walked so these BL boys could run, thank you for your service.

He's so beautiful. i love him and his magnificent eyebrows so much.

Cool grandma! i love her style so much. also loved that she asked Dee how the hell he still can't find a man. freaking savage.

จะเอาหัวเอาหางหรือจะเอากลางตลอดตัว ก็ได้จ่ะ.

"Moan harder" and "play with that longer" i'm fucking dead. this is so hot! ahhhh yessss i love this so much. this is how you do sexy. other BLs take some fucking notes!

This is so fucking tender. my heart is melted.

Oh my, this Ep whewwww. the tenderness expressed by Yak is something that i didn't know i needed, but i'm 100% loving every goddamn second of it. Great is such a great actor (pun intended.) and this version of Yak is already better than his book counterpart.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

just a girl 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as possible cheating, low self-esteem, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you move in with your sister when your luck turns for the worst.

Characters: Walter Marshall, possible Andy Barber

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

It isn't your proudest moment. You don't have many of those. There is little remarkable about, nothing of note, nothing admirable. You might stand a bit taller than most but it's rarely given as a good thing. 

You never expected much of life. You resigned yourself to living in the shadows. In particular, you knew you would always bet outshone by your sister's light. You can't hate her for it; it's your own shortcoming. Besides, no one can hate Riannon, she's just that nice. 

You are dark smear on the family name. It's why you didn't even think to ask your parents for help. You didn't even ask your sister, she offered, insisted really. You could never deny her and in this instant, you couldn't afford any other option. 

It’s just for a while, you keep telling yourself. You’ll find a new job and a place soon. For now, you’ll just stay out of the way. It isn’t very hard; you take up much more room than your few possessions. 

You keep yourself holed in the guestroom as you settle into your second day. You have your laptop on your thighs as you scroll the job boards. You have the experience but you expect your reference would be any good. You didn’t exactly end on cordial terms. Starting from square one, though the industry isn’t exactly even ground for men and women alike. 

You hunker down to search through the various postings within your purview. Every classification is ticked off, even the years, it’s just that little note about contacting your previous employers that makes you nervous. Well, you at least have to try. 

A knock comes at the door as you edit your cover letter once again. You sit up and close the computer. You slide it aside and get up. You cross the room and crack the door open. You sister smiles from the other side. 

“Am I making too much noise?” You ask as your music plays music from its tiny speaker. 

“No, no, not at all. Um, so you know Andy is out of town for the day so it’s just us,” she rocks, “and there’s a barbecue down the street so... I thought you could get to know the neighbourhood.” 

You look down at her, the offer catching you off guard. You were prepared to spend the whole day hidden away and poring over job listings. Even when you had your own place, you tended to spend most of your own time inside. 

Still, she is doing you a huge favour and it would be rude to say no. You shrug, “okay.” 

“Great, I have some potato salad I'm bringing,” she chirps.  

“Uh,” you look at her blue checkered capris and pristine white blouse, “should I change?” 

“It’s up to you. I'm just going to get packed up. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” 

Her excitement is palpable. She probably expected you to say no. You don’t want to let her down again. You’re tired of that feeling. 

You close the door as she bounces away and you retreat to search through your still unpacked suitcase. Your clothes hang over the sides. You pick out a band shirt and a pair of dark grey jeans. You don’t have any shorts and you know your repertoire of dark colours only draws in the sun’s fury, and like of the vaunted HOA, but you don’t have many options. 

You emerge with a pair of converse in hand and head into the kitchen. Rhiannon snaps the lid onto a big bowl as she beams up at you. You don’t understand how you share the same blood, she’s so different than you. Where you’re tall and gangly, she’s small and dainty; where your dour and reticent, she’s bright and bubbly. Your parents even kidded that you must’ve been switched at the hospital. 

“Ready?” She asks. 

You nod and look down at yourself. 

“If you want to borrow a skirt or something, it’s pretty hot out.” 

“It’s fine.” 

You don’t take her offer as any comment on your choice, only genuine concern. If it was your mom, you would know it was more than that. To be fair, your mother is very direct with her critiques. Besides, even if her clothes would fit you, you don’t want to risk ruining any of her things. 

“Alrighty, well, Marge will kill me if I’m late again,” she sings and sweeps around with the bowl. “It’ll be nice to get out, huh?” 

“Mhmm,” you grumble and follow her down the hall to the front door. 

She steps into her wedged sandals as you sit to pull on your converse and lace them up. You stand and get the door for her as she prances towards it. She thanks you and you trail her out. The sun hits you like fire. It’s so hot, though you think some of the heat comes from your own self-consciousness. 

As you catch up to your sister at the bottom of the steps, you slow down to keep from outpacing her shorter legs. Even with her platformed soles, she’s still ahead shorter than you. You turn down the sidewalk as you shy away from the strange faces headed in the same direction. 

“You want me to carry that?” You offer. 

“Hey, I might be small but I can handle a salad,” she chirps. 

“I know, I wasn’t--” 

“I’m teasing. It’s fine, I got it,” she assures you as she hugs the bowl to her stomach, “I just want you to have a good day. Don’t think about everything else, okay?” 

“Mm, okay,” you keep your head down as you slink next to her jouncing steps, “sorry, I'll try not to be too grim.” 

“Whatever, you’re awesome,” she nudges you with her elbow, “you just be yourself and I know you’ll find some good friends around here.” 

You try to smile but it hurts. She always sees the best in others, even when it’s not there. You keep pace with her and turn up another curated lawn. The walk is perfectly laid and the blossom tree sways overhead. 

Rhiannon is welcomed through the open gate by one of those blonde women she has her book club with and you shuffle in with your hands in your pockets. You feel the woman’s harsh gaze and peek up. She looks at you the same way your mother does. Her name is Marge and her friend is Callie and there are dozens of the Stepford-like figures posted throughout the yard. 

“Come, let’s put your salad out,” Marge insists. 

Rhiannon looks at you and you chew your cheek, “go, I'll be fine.” 

She looks reluctant but you’re already walking away. You ignore the smell of sausage and beef rising from the barbeque and the splash and laughter of children from the pool. You aren’t going to find any friends here. That much is clear. Housewives and little kids, you don’t really fit the bill. 

You find your way to the far end of the lawn and stand by a tree you might just blend into. Or maybe you might bury yourself in the rose bushes. You pull your hands from your pockets and hook your fingers into your belt loops, swaying as you watch a bumble bee hover over the grass. 

“Foo Fighters, huh?” A low drawl brings your head up as a man approaches with a beer bottle in hand. 

“Um, yeah,” you look down at your shirt, tugging on the hem. 

“You go to a show?” He asks as he stops near you, drinking from the bottle as he waits for your answer. 

“Never been to one,” you cross your arms, “but I listen to them.” 

“Ah, yeah, well, they put on a hell of a show,” he wiggles the bottle as he talks, “lot more fun than these things.” 

You look up the yard towards the mingling of voices and sound. Despite your efforts to hide in a corner, you must have stuck out like a sore thumb. Shoot, maybe he thinks you’re trespassing. 

“I came with my sister,” you point and shift towards the party, “sorry, um, Rhiannon. I didn’t... I was just looking at the roses.” 

“Not my party,” he scoffs, “I don’t care.” 

“Oh,” you blink and look at him. He's about your height, dark curly hair, and vibrant blue eyes. His dark beard is thick and stubble prickles along his neck. He wears a plain white shirt and jeans; the bare minimum. “Right, er, well...” 

“Not a bad idea, hiding behind a tree,” he remarks, “but you're missing the key ingredient.” 

He stops and stares, crooking a brow as if you should know what he means. 

“Alcohol,” he raises his bottle, “they got a keg even. Probably the only good part about these bull—these things.” 

“I don’t drink,” you mutter, “but thanks.” 

You put your head down and stare at the grass around his shoes. You don’t know why he’s bothering you if it isn’t to make you leave. Obviously, you don’t belong. 

“Never too late to start,” he snorts and stays as he is. 

You don’t know how to make him leave you alone so you say nothing. The bee dips into a tulip’s mouth and you turn to watch it. Maybe he’ll take your silence as a hint. 

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - We Are Surprised

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

May 2024 Wk 2

Ongoing Series - Thai

Wandee Godday (Sat YT) ep 2 of 12 - Oh it’s fucking great. It could all go horribly south, of course. But it’s awesome at the moment. Messy gay and one of them is already pining? Got to love it. Including the negotiation.

I’d love a good sex negotiation, it’s almost as good as linguistic negotiation. This show makes me happy. All that said, it’s moving awfully quickly for a 12 episode run. Not sure what’s gonna happen on the backend. 

My Stand-In (Thai Fri iQIYI) ep 3 of 12 eps - I’m still enjoying it but I’m ready for him to die again now. 

We Are (Weds iQIYI) ep 5-6 of 16 - Toey is going after the Namgoong Award for Best Wingman this year, I see. And in exchange, literally all the rest of the friends are going to be his wingmen. It’s adorable. I also like that Phuwin got to be the aggressor for the first kiss. I like that this is mostly just boys flirting, and not really any prescribed seme/uke stuff. In general, I think these last two episodes I improved the show in my regard a lot. But then middles are always GMMTV's strong point, it’s whether they can stick the landing that’s an issue.

Two Worlds (Thurs iQIYI) ep 9 of 10 - Apparently we have the Frodo walking into Mordor episode. Also the sides were cute. In Thailand (like Taiwan) all gangsters are gay, apparently. 

Only Boo! (Sun YouTube) ep 5 of 12 - It’s cute but very cringe and dorky. Silly singing. Terrible pickup lines. Still, that was a ridiculously charming confession.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Unknown (Taiwan Tues YouTube & Viki) ep 12fin - Oh so good. Very few shows that feature one-sided long-term pining of this kind can resolve the unevenness of that power dynamic into a more stable and equal footing with such class. We really got to see the object of the desire turn completely around and become equally besotted. An age gap, stepbrothers trope like this one is hard enough but at this length? Very well acted boys! Unknown managed to show the older brother softening in a believable way that’s pretty unusual in narratives of this type.

All in all?

Unknown is a wonderful BL with a pitch perfect portrayal of long term pining, age gap, and the stepbrothers trope. The acting and chemistry are ON POINT (especially from the leads) which made the resulting characters very believable. When it dwells in intimate family drama, it's stunning. It's slightly less successful when it leaves the home and goes gritty. It's few flaws are the result of curtailed length. It could have used more breathing room to deal with side plots, characters, and companion character development. The editing was occasionally choppy and packed with flashbacks that broke the emotional tension. Still, those are mere quibbles. This is an excellent show that I know I'm going to be recommending a lot. 9/10

Finally Taiwan hits another one out of the park.

About.

Damn.

Time.

Blue Boys (Korea Sat YouTube) 4 of ? - Oh it’s so good, and they are so tortured and it’s just charming and I can’t EVEN. I just love it. I love that Korea is giving us this right now. You’re an idiot if you’re not watching this show, it’s truly spectacular.

At 25:00 in Akasaka AKA 25 Ji Akasaka de (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 4 of 10 - Well well well Japan. I see how you kneed. I enjoyed this episode better than the first two, and I am way into our Bad Boy second lead. I can already feel myself succumbing  to the syndrome. Next week = the obligatory onsen ep! 

Living With Him AKA Kare no Iru Seikatsu (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 5 of 10 - Omg most adorbs failed linguistic negotiation. 

Boys Be Brave AKA Roommates (Korea Thurs Viki) ep 5-6 of 8 - I love the side couple. It’s a shame we’re finally getting some truly great class conflict and it’s relegated to crumbs.

Love is like a Cat (Korea Mon Viki) eps 11-12fin - Well that was a waste of time. There was no connection (of any kind) between the leads. The language thing was hella weird and likely added to that. The past history of the Korean character was necessary to know from the start, its lack throughout, meant there was no depth to his character. They tried to tackle all the interesting stuff in the final 2 eps. AND they even killed the dog. I never thought I'd type this sentance, but Peach of Time is better.

I don’t know. 5/10 I guess

All in all:

A disappointing lackluster and barely cohesive BL about a jerk Thai actor (speaking Thai) who has to work for a Korean animal rescue cafe as a publicity stunt. It's difficult to believe the leads like each other, let alone fall in love. The acting is stiff, the characters lack motivation and cohesion, and there's not much to recommend this show beyond some pretty visuals. Also, they kill the dog. All in all, a disappointing and unsuccessful joint venture that mostly highlighted that between Thailand and Korea the style of BL, narrative approach, language cadence, and acting techniques all clash.

It's airing but...

Lady Boy Friends (Thai WeTV grey) 16 eps - reminds me a bit too much of Diary of Tootsies only high school. Not my thing. DNF unless it turns a corner and is truly amazing.

You Made My Day (Thai YT) ep 1 of 5 - mini series staring the I Will Knock You couple Tar & Bom, started but I couldn't find it. I also didn't try very hard.

A Balloon's Landing (Taiwan movie) trailer - A frustrated Hong Kong writer, Tian Yu, meets a Taipei street gangster, Xiang (Fandy Fan from HIStory2: Crossing the Line), and the two of them embark on a journey to find the Bay of Vanishing Whales. Along the way, they discover unexpected twists and turns and close bonds, which brings out the message that "there is always someone like you in this world who is waiting for you. This released to cinemas in Taiwan, no word on international release.

Memory in the Letter (Thai WeTV) - it's done, tell me if I should bother?

Fan's Only Corner

Someone asked in a comment (which tumblr promptly ate) about group sleepovers in BLs. It's happened a few times but the only one I can recall being noted and particularly lovely (and VERY college) was in Nitiman. There's also one in Lovesick.

Next Week Looks Like This:

5/16 Blossom Campus (Korea Thurs Gaga & iQIYI) ep 1 of 6 - Strongberry doing classic uni BL! Weeee!

5/19 OMG Vampire (Thai Sun ????) ep 1 of 10 - LeeFrank are back - not unlike the undead (as it were). But how do we feel about it? Unsure given their track record.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

May Releases

VBL (Taiwan) is releasing 4 'Special Episode' epilogues to their 4 2023 shows every Friday this month on Gagaoolala, Viki & Viu. Not sure on search terms or how to find these. (Or, frankly, if we need them.)

5/10 – You Are Mine

5/17 – VIP Only

5/24 – Stay By My Side

5/31 – Anti Reset

5/25 The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer - HoTae & DongHee are back but unfortunately not in a cinema near me. Side couple from Unintentional Love Story, same actors, same character names. I love them. I NEED TO SEE THIS.

5/28 My Biker 2 (Thai movie YT?) - trailer

5/31 The Time of Huannan (Taiwan movie) - May not be BL

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

LOVE a smile kiss. Love it. Two killer kisses from PondPhuwin. Elegantly done, boys. Thank you very much.

I love them a lot all of a sudden. (All We Are)

It's hard to give MaxTul a run on their crown as best bodies in BL, but boy these two are giving it their, erm, best. (Wandee Goodday)

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire

If ya wanna be tagged each week leave a comment and I will add you to the template. Easy peesy.

[nyrasproblm]

I'm not the only one - 6

Leto Atreides x reader

Word Count: 1,6K

Warning: angst, age gap (reader is in her 20s, Leto is between 40-49), misogyny, arranged marriage, mention of deaths.

note: Due to the unpleasant events of the last few days I lost the desire to write, but thanks to your support and affection I felt motivated again, so thank you very much! And I would also like to dedicate the song below to Leto:

series masterlist | next chapter

You heard Jessica's soft knock on the door before you even finished fixing your hair, but you let her wait until you were completely ready, only then told her to come in. The heavy door opened and her thin figure stepped through the door before closing it again, this time she wore a light blue dress that was not form-fitting, her copper colored hair once again tied into a tight bun at the top of the head. You were already sitting at the table you used to read and work, you glanced at her and saw her bow.

"Good morning, Jessica." you greeted her and saw a slight change in her expressions at your lack of formalities in not using her title.

"Good morning, Duchess." she said in the same soft tone as always. "I must apologize for disturbing you so early and thank you for your generosity in receiving me."

"Stop, I hate it, you know." you frowned in annoyance.

You hated all this formality and this way of deifying the well-born. Of course, formality and respect were necessary, but it bothered you that it was Jessica who was directing this to you, you considered her your friend.

"What do you want to talk about?" you asked, running your palm over the details of a book cover.

"Milady is already aware of my pregnancy, my eldest son commented in a moment of indiscretion." she clasped her hands in front of her. "I would inform the lady about it, but in due time."

"And when would that be due?" you looked up at her. "At the time of birth?"

"I understand your annoyance, my lady–"

"I understand your position here, I really do, and I respect you for all the time you spent in the service of this family." you sighed. "But what I think is the worst thing is that you pretend to be a conciliator and a friend, trying to improve my relationship and living with my husband, but behind my back you continues to sleep with him."

"Milady Duchess must understand that this is my duty here, I am a concubine." she said. "And I feel honored that my lady considers me her friend."

You mentally bit your tongue, you were getting stressed very easily lately.

"Thank you for your visit, Jessica, I hope the child is healthy. Please, withdraw."

Reading in the greenhouse of Arrakeen Castle was your new favorite pastime. You felt bad being in the middle of all those plants and all that water and outside there were people dying of thirst, but the place was a great escape. It was in a place further away from the castle and you arranged for Thufir to teach you how to open the palm lock.

You looked up when you heard the doorknob clicking, only to see Paul walking through the oval door with a shy smile on his face.

"I hope I'm not in the way." he said as he took uncertain steps to sit next to you on the stone bench near the central fountain.

"Never."

Paul sighed and looked around for a moment, quickly admiring the stillness of the place.

"You look tormented." you observed as you turned to face him.

"I'm a little restless." he admitted.

"Why?"

"I didn't want to be rude, much less cause intrigue with my indiscretions."

"You weren't rude and you didn't cause intrigue, Paul. I would know at some point."

He turned his face to look at you and you pressed your lips into a thin line, trying to curl the corners up.

"How did you know I was here?" you asked softly.

"Thufir told me."

You just nodded and ran your fingertips along the spine of the book you were holding.

"Are you mad at my mom?" Paul asked uncertainly, making you swallow hard.

I'm mad at myself, you thought, for being so naive.

"No, I'm not."

Paul nodded and the two of you turned forward, facing the path that led to the door, in silence.

"Didn't you have to be in class?" you asked, still looking straight ahead.

"I'm done. Don't you have duties to do too?" he asked boldly and made you let out a giggle.

"I'm done."

You sighed and closed your eyes, you felt so tired lately. Much more than he felt on his home planet. Then an idea suddenly occurred to you and you opened your eyes, turning to Paul.

"What if we go see the spice harvest?"

Paul smiled mischievously.

You were excited and euphoric when the shai-hulud appeared in the sand, it was a huge and wonderful creature.

"It's wonderful." you said looking at the creature below you.

One of the duke's men accompanied you and Paul into the desert. You wore the stillsuit that Paul gave you and adjusted it to your body so that it was comfortable. The carriage responsible for taking the crawler away was already flying out of the desert.

"The first time we came the carriage didn't respond, my father made all the men leave the crawler and took them back himself in one of the ornithopters." Paul said beside you, his eyes also glued to the monster below you. "The worm swallowed the harvester in one mouthful."

"What a heroic act." you muttered.

As soon as the creature returned to the depths of the sand, Paul directed the pilot to return to the landing control tower, the sun was already setting and it was very likely that the duke was restless. One of the Duke's men walked up to the two of you the moment you got off the ornithopter, informing you that the Duke wished to see you both immediately. With heavy feet, you followed Paul through the corridors and stairs until you reached one of the top floors, where the meeting room was located.

Paul opened the door and let you in first, like the polite gentleman he was. You walked through the door and saw your husband sitting at the end of the long table.

"My lord." you greeted him in a low voice.

"Father." Paul did the same behind you.

"It's already getting dark, I was very clear when I said I wanted you back before dark." Leto said looking directly at Paul.

"I'm sorry sir, we had a worm sighting and I wanted the duchess to see it." Paul replied in a serious tone.

Leto directed his gaze to you and you saw the serious look fall for a moment before he cleared his throat.

"May this not happen again." he replied to Paul.

"Yes, sir."

"Find a free room to rest, you won't go back to the castle today, it's dangerous." he leaned back in his chair. "The same goes for you." he said looking at you.

"My lord." you nodded and left the room accompanied by your stepson.

You said goodbye to Paul as he found a room to sleep in and pointed in the direction of one you could stay in. Tired of waiting for sleep to come, you walked out the metal door and looked around, listening to the noise of the duke's men talking on the floors below.

Turning your face to the right you saw a small staircase and walked there, opening another metal door, seeing that it was a terrace, the top floor of the tower. You stepped through the door and walked across the noisy metal floor to the guardrail, leaning against it and taking a deep breath. The landing pad below was silent, the last dunemen had arrived less than an hour ago, noisy and rowdy.

You moved your face up, looking at the expanse of sand ahead, silent and frightening. Full of secrets and wealth. The night wind tickled his face, a pleasant sensation after all the heat during the day. The metal door made a noise and you turned your head back abruptly, if you were attacked you would have no way to defend yourself, you were alone in a place full of strangers.

But it was only the Duke that had passed through the door.

"You shouldn't be here alone." he said in a deep voice, not as serious as usual.

"I didn't feel sleepy." you replied, turning back to face the desert.

"Did you enjoy your visit to the desert today?" he walked over and leaned back next to you, on the guardrail.

"Yes."

You heard him breathe loudly and rub his face with one hand, a frustrated movement.

"You don't know how deeply I regret the way I behaved last time." he said, his voice no more than a whisper, his gaze staring at you hard.

You just nodded and remained silent, trying to keep your expressions neutral.

"I'm really sorry." he continued speaking.

"My lord says that but I know you will do it again at some point." you said in a weak voice, your gaze opaque on the sand.

You sighed loudly and finally turned your face to look at him.

"Everyone talks about your honor, about what a good and fair man you are, but I can't see any of that." you said softly. "You are nothing like that to me, husband."

"I let my frustrations get the best of me." he replied.

"I'm not to blame for this, I'm sorry, but I'm not." you said. "I didn't ask for any of this."

"I know."

"It doesn't seem like you know, you continue to mistreat me." you replied, feeling your stomach turn into knots. "I know you don't love me, but can't you even treat me as your partner, at least in front of others?"

You sighed and stood up straight, moving away from the railing.

"I'm going back to the room, excuse me."

Leto Atreides taglist: @gagaga167 @hargrovehoe @snh96 @sleepyamaya

[pinkandgoldensoul]

Heyo!

Since I'm definitely a fan of your writings and this tinkling feeling of requesting you something has been irking me, can I request something like an arranged marriage with Pierre?

Angsty and maybe a happy ending. That's upto you.

Love your works. Hoping for more great pieces.❤️

Happy New Year 🎊

(At the end of the fic I'll leave a note about this request ❤️)

Navigation || Masterlist

If this is your first time here on this blog, please check the Disclaimers here.

pairing: pierre gasly x female!reader (feat. esteban ocon x female!reader and charles leclerc as reader's bestfriend) genre: arranged marriage, angst, fluff and comfort !tw!: swearing, mention of s*x (not graphic), cheating, violence word count: 18.6k plot: you loved him, he loved you, and neither knew. Will an arranged marriage, an old love triangle and a special friend be enough to finally make you confess your true feelings?

Walking down the aisle, a bouquet clumsily held by trembling fingers, your whole chest was filled with quick butterflies batting wings, desperate to spread free. He was perfect. An astonishingly crafted smirk plastered on his face, ready for the flashes of the cameras to be captured, the suit slid on his athletic body without creases. You reckoned yourself inadequate in that white, plain dress: feeling pins pulling your hair left and right after hours of work by the hairdresser, the steady arm of your dad was the only anchor to the present moment. He never strayed his stare away from you, removing your veil in a slow, tantalizing motion. There were no vows to be exchanged and get mistaken in anxiety, no rings to be put through the wrong finger: you were and had always been his since forever, without he even had to ask. You peeked behind Pierre’s shoulder and saw Charles showing you an encouraging smile, which you tried to reciprocate despite sweating cold. You remembered his huge grin when Pierre had handed him the invitation: dimples on full display, Charles had flicked his eyes between the two of you and had been stoked ever since he was told he’d be best man. He’d been happier than Pierre himself had been about the news of the engagement with you and, consequently, about the wedding.

>>♥<<

«Okay, cool.» That had been his answer to you two fathers’ decision. They had grown best friends over the years, and they both didn’t like Pierre’s womanizer lifestyle, which was quite detrimental to his reputation. So your dad had decided to offer his own daughter to the Gasly’s like a sacrificial victim, knowing you had always had sympathy for the youngster and sure he would simply love you back with time. Of course, you were painfully aware of Pierre’s usual behavior around girls and, even though befriending him in teenage had made you helplessly fall in love with him, getting married felt like the cruelest assault to your dignity. For sure you would love him. And for sure he would not. Sitting on a couch right in front of each other, your parents discussing a couple of meters away, he simply bore his eyes into yours while drinking a glass of juice, legs spread out. «We’re going to have fun the first night together or…?» Your eyes threw a dagger to him, hit in your pride for the insensitive comment; Pierre wasn’t known for being delicate and considerate, when you used to hang out in group with him. After all, his humor was one of the things that had you capitulate before his feet. «Okay, I see. No jokes.» You squeezed your fingers into fists, uptight, dissatisfaction cursing through your blood. «Not on such things, Pierre.» «Like what? Sex?» he raised a brow. «My wedding.» you sighed. «Our wedding, you mean.» «Doesn’t seem as pivoting to you. Nothing will really change for you.» «We’re both going to wear a ring, y/n. Never seen a marriage without the groom or the bride.» He downed the last sip of the juice and placed the glass on the coffee table. You knew from the start it wouldn’t be a fairytale.

>>♥<<

«Don’t think a bride should stand on her own and look so sad.» Charles’ words whispered in your ear made you roll eyes and brought an immediate smile to your face. «Don’t think a best man should bother the bride with stupid remarks.» «Do you think it’s stupid?» he asked, raising his brow to insinuate doubt. «Pierre is having a blast and you… well, you’re here listening to the stupid remarks of the best man.» The small stem glass of champagne you still held had dried out of bubbles, but seemed interesting enough to draw your eyes down; Charles, genuinely sorry to witness your let down expression, wetted his lips and briefly glanced back at Pierre, laughing and dancing with the other guests. «Let’s go dance.» Caught by surprise, you tilted your head back up, wide eyes. «C’mon, don’t pretend you didn’t hear!» Charles chuckled, holding both your hands. «We’re going to make fools of ourselves…» «But that’s what we do the best when we’re together!» You let yourself be dragged in the middle of the dance floor set up under an outdoor gazebo: Charles’ ridiculous moves made a visceral laugh emerge from the depths of your fears, as he tried to involve you in his bubbly fun, despite the dress not helping the flow of your groove. «Geez, I feel so awkward!» you let out, head leaning backwards, invested by a childish happiness. «Just dance it out, we’re doing amazing!»

The sun setting down at the horizon threw an orange gold ray cut through the air, hitting Charles’ profile, getting both enlightened and obscured in two poetic halves which danced relentless and made you twirl around without a single thought. Out of notice, the guests had gathered around the two of you, enjoying the show you had put up; and when the music faded out to a slower tune, catching your breath in Charles’ arms, hands resting on his heaving chest, your sight found Pierre’s blue eyes, filled with an unreadable expression. As slower notes filled the air, he walked over to you, confident in each firm step, putting Charles’ luminous smile in defeat: when Pierre was around, there was no chance for you to look at any other person. He simply took your hands, implicitly warning Charles to move away and make room for him, tenderly joining the swinging fabric of your dress. Too affected by his presence and by racing thoughts about the future you would share with him from that moment on, you placed your burning cheek upon his chest, right above his heart. «Why didn’t you ask me to dance?» His question breached your overthinking silence. «You were too busy entertaining the guests.» You didn’t mean for your words to sound as veiled of sadness and resigned as they did, but you felt somehow content in letting Pierre know how you felt about the whole situation. He had you wrapped around his finger; his ring one. You were engraved in the inner circle of gold touching his skin, kissing it tenderly, vowing love to him any second. «I thought I’d make you uncomfortable giving you all my attention. You dropped a glass during lunch because of it, and I don’t want you to get hurt.» His smirk disseminated deep, red shame on your cheeks; why did you put blush on earlier that morning if Pierre was managing to do all the work by himself?

An unerasable pang of hurt chained your feet to the ground, unable to sink deeper into Pierre’s gentle hands holding you throughout the dance: you told yourself it wouldn’t shatter you completely if you thought he didn’t mean any of the things he did, he said. Holding you closer, cheek resting on his white, unbuttoned shirt, he left an unexpected and unseen peck on the top of your head, as you both still lulled to the beat. He then leaned on a side, dropping whispered words into your ear. «Want to see a smile on my wife’s face. It’s our wedding, after all, not our funeral.» As much as you wanted to feel hatred, you let Pierre’s jokingly voice sink, unconsciously obliging to his request right away. You felt young, drunk, foolish. You’d enjoy every bit of attention he’d spare you. Every single scramble.

>>♥<<

Pierre had insisted on picking you up before entering your newly bought apartment, to stick to the tradition; between giggles and laughs, you had admired you two’s mothers astonishing work of petals and candles signaling the way over to the bedroom. The dim lights enchanted your sight, as you stood speechless before the bed. Pierre’s hands caressing your forearms and slowly making their way up to your shoulders awoke you and froze you at once. The tip of his nose brushing your neck, you didn’t dare move nor speak as Pierre pressed soft kisses all over. Were you ready? Pierre encircled your waist with his arm, both relieving and accentuating the knot forming in your stomach. Would you ever be ready? You hadn’t talked about that moment, you hadn’t considered there’d be the need to. You thought he wouldn’t even touch you, once everybody’s eyes would be out of sight. So why was he taking all his time carefully unbuttoning the back of your dress, leaving open mouthed kisses on the bare skin he had available? «Pierre…» You soon realized your moan had been an incentive to Pierre when an airy chérie was whispered upon your shivering skin. «Pierre, I don’t know if we should…» «It’s our first night married, y/n. This is exactly what we should do.» His voice was warm, slightly raspy, perfectly calm and collected, concealing a burning desire underneath. Pierre tucked a lock of your neat hair behind your ear, leaving your neck shivering at the touch. «I know this probably isn’t how you hoped your wedding to be… But now I’m your husband, and I’m willing to do everything I’m supposed to. I’m not backing down.» «Will you ever love me?» you asked, suspended. Pierre tucked another strand of hair in the same spot. «I can’t promise that.» Of course, how would he? «But I’m always going to respect you, no matter what. I swore it and I’ll stand by it.» You slowly turned around to face him, picking up the gown of your dress and pressing a hand to your chest so that it wouldn’t slip off due to the strings being loosened. «Please, don’t… Please, promise you won’t hurt me, Pierre.» The pleading tone of your voice unexpectedly pulled a string inside Pierre’s chest. «Do you really think I’d do that on purpose? Y/n, we’ve been… we’ve known each other for so many years.» «That’s what scares me.» You diverted your gaze, staring at your own reflection on the window: you were now gripping at Pierre’s shirt, the bodice dangerously threatening to slip down, eyes brimming with tears. How could you be more miserable than asking your husband not to hurt you? «Y/n, I’m not a teen anymore. And I’m kind of offended that you think I’m what other people say and what the media want to make everybody believe.» «I wouldn’t have agreed to the wedding, if I believed all the things they said about you.» you whispered. «Then trust the words I said at the altar.» Pierre delicately cupped your cheek, leaving a slow, tender kiss on the opposite temple. «For better and for worse…» he said, boring his eyes into yours. «For richer and for poorer…» he carried on, swiftly freeing your arms from the dress’ sleeves. «In sickness and in health…» Pierre breathed upon your lips, grabbing the dress fallen down to your hips. «Until death do us part.» Gripping tight Pierre’s arms, you let him take your breath away with his sloppy kiss, shivering, despite your face feeling warm and flushed in heat. «I will love you, y/n.» Pierre tucked yet another strand of hair behind your ear. «Maybe not like a charming prince, but I will love you as much as I can.»

His fingers pressed on your shoulders, silently asking you to sit on the edge of the bed, to which you obliged without even thinking twice. The air was thick in pleasant tension: Pierre had let his jacket shuffling its way to the floor, staring at you as he unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt; on your side, you had joined his intentions fidgeting with the buttons crossing his chest and abs, fully focusing on the slow, tantalizing task, instead of searching the force to bear his magnetic eyes. The golden shade casted over your cheeks, blending with the natural reddish shade of feelings spreading over your skin, left Pierre with an unexplainable tug inside the chest, pushing him to bend down and trap you on the mattress with yet another kiss, suddenly impatient. His shirt long forgotten on the floor upon the jacket and his tie, Pierre’s roaming hands dragged your dress down, making sure you’d slip completely out of it, so that you’d be bare for him to avidly see, touch and savor. Senses overwhelmed by his presence, helplessly amazed at how he could enchant your limbs and make them so reactive and sensitive to his touch, your fingers searched for relief on his body, between his brownish locks of hair, on his muscled neck and upper arms. Anything, to release the growing yearning he was masterfully building and lighting up inside of you. Pierre stopped all of the sudden, one elbow keeping him up, eyes lost in focus, as the fingers of his free hand traced an imaginary line from your sternum, down your chest. Before you could swallow hard at the gesture, he placed a lewd kiss right where his pointer finger had stopped. Again, uncontrolled, a soft moan escaped your already opened lips, tugging at his hair as to both pull him away and push him deeper into your soul. He raised his eyes to look at you hungrily, lips still stained with your skin. «I will honor you all the days of my life, y/n.» Pierre read the soft stare you gave him and the lovingly caress of your hand on his head as an invitation to drag his mouth upon your tender breast, finally free from the white cloth he had wished to tear apart since he had seen you walking down the aisle, swearing to himself he’d not be satisfied until he’d heard you scream his name from the top of your lungs, with his own hands, eyes and heart full of you.

The wedding being held in Italy at the beginning of September, right after Monza’s race weekend, you both had spent only a couple of days in the new house in Milan, in the attempt of building the sense of affectionate routine you would inevitably lose after taking the flight for Azerbaijan, following Pierre in the double-header awaiting him. The media had called it “racing-moon”. It was no ordinary honeymoon, travelling across the globe to support your husband, watching him with a pair of headphones and staring at him from a screen inside Alpine’s box, shying away from paparazzi’s cameras ready to capture glimpses of intimacy you didn’t even know how to spark yourself. A night of love wasn’t enough to erase the helpless feeling of distance and separation around Pierre: you were friends, sure, but your heavy crush on him had always prevented the relationship from growing further as it had happened with Charles. Daydreaming about him laying down your bed, earphones plugged, you had known every single detail about the things he liked while being in your early teens; now, looking at him packing his suitcase, standing at the doorframe you realized you either had never known him before or you had forgotten anything at the altar once he had kissed you alive.

«Do you need help?» you asked, closing and releasing your fingers from a fist, feeling useless. «Oh, didn’t notice you were there.» he quickly peeked at you. «No, thanks! I don’t know how, but it took half the time.» You raised a brow, leaning against the frame with arms crossed. «Maybe… it was the perfectly organized wardrobe I spent two days filling up with all your clothes?» «Mmh, I’m not really sure… Maybe I’ve just got quick with packing, since I’ve been doing it every other week for years now.» His smirk triggered an eye roll in you, so noticeable that Pierre turned to you, taking the suitcase off the bed and letting it roll on the floor. Not kind of expecting him to get that close to you after only stopping by the room, suddenly aware of how his stare could get your whole body drawn to him, succumbed to him, enchanted and gravitating around his brightness, you let yourself be courted by Pierre’s teasing fingers running up your arms. «I’m done now, so…» he said. «So?» «The bed is clear.» Throwing him an amused glance, about to laugh at how lewd his voice had sounded while hinting at the endless list of things you could do there, you pretended not to get his point. «Well, good job! We have somewhere to sleep tonight then.» «There’s no way, right?» Pierre squinted his eyes, hands still warming your skin caressed by the hot Italian wind blowing from the window. «Way to do what?» you asked, faking innocence once again. «I think you perfectly know.»

September’s heat had paired up with the warmth creeping up your ears while Pierre encircled your waist and inched over, causing butterflies inside your chest to awake your heart, moving past your thoughts to put them to sleep, as an overwhelming flow of love made you crave that heavenly attention and touch every second more. Pierre seemed to stop in his relentless chase of a kiss: he stood still, enjoying the closeness, the intimacy of the moment, with your arms enclosed around his neck. There was no rush. The house was hollow and silent; only your breaths could be heard, mixed with the distant chatter coming from the street. Maybe that was the happiest and most peaceful corner of life he would ever know. Maybe holding your waist knowing that you were his wife, that he had settled his forever home, maybe spending his life with you was happiness. He struggled forming deep rooted love feelings towards you, yet could picture the two of you having kids so easily, travelling together, filling that empty house with memories. Maybe it was the fondest look in your eyes making every fantasy so incredibly near and easy. There was something, though, that Pierre didn’t find hard to spark at all. «Changed your mind?» you whispered, teasingly but soft. Attraction. Pierre was so desperately enamored with your body; to be fair, he had always quite been. Untouched by innocence, back at the time you would hang out in group, he would see you utterly oblivious to how other guys glanced at you and wonder if you had ever had sex before. The night of your first time together – the wedding’s – he had both been unfazed and surprised about noticing you weren’t a virgin: it totally made sense for someone as beautiful as you to have been with a guy, but at the same time he had no clue of who you had appointed as the one, and it was weird, because you used to hang out with the same people. He had always thought you had been in his universe, like a satellite, and had always taken your presence for granted, without ever considering he could be the planet on the margin of a totally different galaxy you shined in. Pierre was so intimately envious of a past you didn’t allow him in, and his only way to cope was making sure he could be your only future. «Not at all.» The fastest flicker of his eyes down to your lips was the warning, which you took in with delight: and Pierre was all over you, dragging you into his lighthearted desires and plans, igniting a shy flattering shade beneath your cheeks.

Pierre had insisted on entering the paddock hand in hand; in return, you had insisted on giving your right hand, standing on his left side. He had frowned just enough for you to capture it, not able to understand your request. «As you wish.» But you knew why: and your thumb gently stroking his wedding ring knew as well. Unexplainable excitement was the first feeling which had insinuated in you as you put foot past the turnstiles: Pierre had reminded you quite a few cameras would be following you in a bee line right around you. You were too happy to care, in your first outing as a married woman. As a married couple.

«Oh, hello to the royal couple!» You couldn’t stop yourself from eye-rolling at Charles’ comment, drinking Pierre’s laugh like a shot of bliss. «What, are you jealous?» They laughed and joked around, giving friendly pats to each other, while you watched them with a grin plastered on your face, enjoying the luck of spending time with people you loved. So many things had changed, but it still felt like you were still sixteen, walking without destination in group, young and careless, emptying your pockets full of dreams and using them as currency of exchange between each other. «Catch up with you later, I’ve got a meeting now!» «See you later!» you waved at Charles, as Pierre greeted him.

Entering Alpine’s hospitality you squeezed Pierre’s hand in fright: out of the blue, a deafening clapping concert made your heart fly across the room, as mechanics, engineers and other people from the staff celebrated you two. Pierre looked down at you, curious to see your reaction, still infected by the serene and uplifted atmosphere, swimming in delight as soon as your eyes clicked with his and saw you flattered. There was a bit of pride in showing you off like a trophy, proving everybody wrong with the assumption he’d never settle down and never find the one. Well, he didn’t really choose you out of love. But nobody was meant to know that.

«Congratulations, mate.» The voice reaching from behind your back made you turn, despite it being directed at Pierre. Your eyes flew high to Esteban’s face, enlarging in surprise: he wasn’t looking down at you, caught in the weirdly friendly interaction with your husband. But as soon as Pierre was dragged into pats and hugs by team members, you were left with a whole bag of memories and discarded feelings coming back to the surface, standing still next to someone you once knew. «It’s like the old times, isn’t it?» he casually said, as you both stared at the packed room, side by side. «No, Esteban. Everything changed.» Bittersweetly shoving your left hand before his face to make a definite statement, he carefully grabbed it and brushed your ring with the thumb, taking a close look. «I don’t believe so.» he let go of your hand, smiling politely. «What are you talking about?» you asked, kind of annoyed. «You still think you have Pierre all to yourself when we know nobody does.» «Don’t… don’t you dare talk crap about him in my presence. You know nothing.» Staring into the void, you tried to stay calm and collected, swallowing the phantoms of the past. «I respect that. But I just wanted to remind you of when you were the one talking crap about him in my presence.» «That was years ag-» «And I was there to listen to you.» You dropped the accusatory finger you had brought dangerously near his chest, mind invaded by guilt and yellowed pages of life. «I’ll still be here for you when Pierre messes up again.» «He won’t, Este.» «We’ll see.» he shrugged, glancing back at the room. «But I’ve spent more time with him in the last year than you have, and I know he is no easy character.» «I’m not going to change my mind, if that’s what you’re trying to do.» you raised a brow, skeptical. «I simply wanted to wish you good luck.» Esteban’s impassive tone left you with the urge of replying: as much as you were filled with doubts and fears, you somehow trusted Pierre and his promises and wouldn’t bear anyone implying stuff. Especially Esteban. Because, to a degree, he knew the situation better than any other. His eyes, that despicable spark of mischief, anger and regret inside of them told you things you didn’t want to hear. «The staff would like to get to know my wife if only my teammate would let her be.» Pierre’s amused interruption startled you, almost feeling caught red-handed with the most terrible crime: talking to a guy he trusted and had grown to hate over time. «Sorry, Pierre! My fault. I was… keeping up with the Gasly’s.» The awkwardness and the tension of the moment didn’t go unnoticed to any of you, and you mentally thanked Pierre’s hand resting on your waist, slowly guiding you away from Esteban, who still stared at you with a small courtesy smile. «We’ll have to bear his presence, I know. Trust me, if I could, I’d rather have him on the other side of the planet.» Pierre sighed defeated while whispering those apologies laced with hatred in your ear and a pang of nostalgia, guilt, sorrow pushed you a little closer to him. «He’s not a problem, Pierre. We know how to be civil.» He looked at you, faking amazement at your reply, nodding his head with raised brows. «You’re more mature than I thought.» «More mature than you are? For sure.» You expected him to laugh; instead, he grinned in silence, a strange sparkle wobbling in his irises. A part of you clung onto it, wishing it was a veil of tenderness, affection, or anything like it towards you. For a moment, you held the hope in your hands, and you carefully caressed it, cherished it, making room in your heart to plant it and nurture it there, as if that single twinkle could ever be the seed of love.

>>♥<<

Baku’s street didn’t seem as bumpy to Pierre, now that he was walking on it with a small group of engineers; the main straight heading to the finishing line seemed unnecessarily long, especially since he had just travelled the entire track and had the pitlane as destination. Left with nothing else to discuss with his team, he enjoyed the sun setting and painting the city gold, taking it easy and slow. «Pierre!» The Frenchman turned around and immediately grinned wide, waving to Charles jogging to him. «Track walk? Thought I’d see you speeding riding a bike.» Charles chuckled, adjusting his jingling bracelets. «I wanted to enjoy the atmosphere better.» «Yeah, me too.» They strolled pensive, no rush to be drowned by the buzzing life of the paddock. «I can’t believe it.» Pierre looked at his friend, who had a pleased grin painted and hung by his dimples. «What?» «This is your first race weekend married. And I was your best man. Isn’t it crazy?» «Time flies, Charles.» Pierre scoffed with a smile. «I saw you celebrated in the hospitality, earlier.»

As Pierre narrated the small party the team had organized to Charles’ ecstatic eyes, his thoughts lingered on you, on the myriads of unexpected congratulations he had received for choosing such a kind and fine woman and making her his. Though, there were moments he felt like he was just above an acquaintance to you. Pierre sighed. «What was that?» Charles asked. «Sometimes I think I don’t really know y/n. Not as much as I should, I mean.» «You do know her, though. You’ve been hanging out together since high school.» «Charles, I don’t even know who her first boyfriend was.» Pierre’s pinch of helplessness caught Charles by surprise, reciprocating his sudden stare with bewilderment. «Did- I didn’t even know she’s had a boyfriend.» the Monegasque stuttered. Pierre looked down at the asphalt. «Hoped you did. But you see? We don’t really know her.» «Well… You’re married now. You have all your life to get to know her.» Charles put his arm around Pierre’s shoulders, giving him an encouraging look. «Yep. That’s my best man right there!» Pierre reciprocated the grab and smiled as the two of them walked down into the pitlane, serving friendly smiles and beautiful shots to the photographers buzzing around the garages.

>>♥<<

«Hello?» «Uhm, am I disturbing you?» «Yes, absolutely. But I’m going to be the nicest just for you.» «Thanks for the usual teasing, Charles.» «What’s up?» «I… I’m deeply embarrassed, but I think I’m lost. I can’t find the way to the track.» «Never heard of Google Maps?» «I’ve tried, but I ended up exactly back at the hotel.» «Ooof. There’s actually someone out there who’s worse than me then.» «Ah, I wouldn’t have called you if Pierre wasn’t busy.» «Can’t I be busy as well?» «Cha’…» «I’m just joking. Are you at the hotel?» «Yep.» «’M on my way.»

The bubbly air of that Saturday morning brushed your bare arms, anticipating the warmth falling onto the grey asphalt, as you walked quickly alongside Charles, trying not to get stopped by fans too many times. «Why didn’t you come to the track with him?» «I think he tried to wake me up, but I… uhm… fell asleep.» «It’s incurable, right?» You both chuckled, still marching towards the paddock. «How is it going?» «Uh?» «With Pierre.» A horn startled you, while Charles waved towards the Tifosi on the other side of the street and smiled under his Rayban’s. «Good! I mean, way better than I thought.» Charles studied your expression, letting your own statement sink in. «You know, I talked with him yesterday. He asked me if I knew who your first boyfriend was.» «Did you tell him?!» you gasped. «Of course not, I’m not that mad.» he looked straight ahead. «But he seemed somehow disappointed. He really wants to know you on a deeper level.» «And tell him about my hookups as he did with us? No, thanks.» «Not necessarily about past relationships. There are so many things you could rediscover now as a couple, and he’d like to. He… he cares. Pierre isn’t the asshole you believe him to be.» «You know my reasons, Charles.» «I do, y/n. But I also know Pierre, and I’ve never seen him as determined and serious in any other relationship before.» A doubtful glance at him turned into an amused snort, as you saw Charles’ dimples already exposed for you to admire. «I should give him a chance, uh?» you joked, kicking a pebble. «Yeah, you definitely should.» «I hate you.» «What’s that for?» Charles chuckled. «You’re too convincing.» «Maybe you only wanted to hear someone else’s confirmation.» You took a moment to reflect, still looking at his green eyes, letting the sentence resonate inside of you. Perhaps you had only been waiting for a sensible reasoning to justify the senseless, self-destructive and visceral need of trying to build a stronger relationship with Pierre.

>>♥<<

Crossing the room, hands intertwined with yours, Pierre felt alert, almost knowing something about bringing you along to that small reception organized for commercial reasons only was intrinsically wrong. Until he spotted a pair of brown eyes lingering way too long on the fine straps grazing your shoulders’ skin. Esteban’s. Despite the years, despite trying, despite the countless shots he had given to their relationship, Pierre couldn’t let go of hatred: the memories of the three of you in the same couple of meters, in the same suffocating room were still a fresh wound which had reopened once more. Unaware of anything, you reciprocated with a reassuring smile Pierre’s tighter hold on your hand, an enquiring look on your face. He expected you to stiffen at Ocon’s mere sight; instead, you stood like a fragile yet flexible flower against the blowing wind, only caring about being… as marvellous as you were. Pierre had been learning it to his disadvantage each day a tiny bit more, trying not to read too much into your rosy cheeks and your fond, unmistakable stares. The delicacy and the grace you would use with others any time you got the chance to talk with people from the team, the paddock, the entire world, really, hit him in an unknown spot of the soul. Probably as hard as Ocon approaching the two of you with a champagne glass in hand did on his nerves. «Didn’t expect to see you here.» Esteban said, only addressing you. Chewing a lump of awkwardness, you threw the quickest glance over to Pierre to check his reaction after being deliberately ignored by his teammate. «Here I am.» you whispered, pressing your lips together with an embarrassed smile. «Wasn’t I clear enough when I told you to stay away from her?» A lightning struck the room. The bitterness in Pierre’s tone triggered a light-hearted laugh from Esteban, theatrically opening the arm and letting the small wave of champagne wash the resentments of the past away. «Come on, Pierre! How many years passed? We aren’t teenagers anymore.» His fingers grabbed your hand tighter, restraining himself from spitting words of fire against his former teammate once again: the bottled-up anger, though, had resurfaced much to Pierre’s surprise, and to yours as well, pressing the button “play” on the reruns of the day their entire relationship crumbled.

No matter what you could’ve done to avoid it, Pierre and Esteban were born to disagree. Nobody could stop that tickling bomb hiding in both their chests as soon as they would spend enough time together to let it explode. Even without you, they would’ve nurtured antipathy for each other; that was how it was supposed to be, and they both knew it. Nestling against Pierre’s loving arms draping you all, you stared at an indefinite point of the packed, but still empty, room. «Do you think it’s my fault?» Pierre placed his chin on your shoulder to listen to your whispered rumbling, joining you in the contemplation of the void. «No, I don’t. He was a douchebag even before treating you the way he did.» It didn’t seem like he was lying, to be fair. You knew very little about the stormy past between the two, since you had met Esteban way later than you had befriended Pierre; he had never told you a thing about a terrible kid who grew up with like a brother and then discarded him due to insane competitiveness. Esteban was dead to him. A Mr. Nobody existing without any string to his life but hate and resentment’s. Unspoken truth, they both liked you and cared for you in very different ways, so it was only natural for them to notice each other’s evident preference for you and clash because of it; that was how it was supposed to be, and they both knew it, deep deep down. «Can we please forget about him?» The careful urge of the sentence was paired with a swift brush of his hands taking yours, silently asking you to dance to the music now blasting through some speakers in the room. Maybe lightness was all you both needed to be happy.

Singapore’s humidity clung onto your lungs like a suffocating net, twirled around your trachea, squeezing it tight. With an invisible layer of sweat all over your skin, heat as well as worries and doubts made you melt before the evidence, before reality. Two weeks and you had already become a ghost. Imprisoned in the highest tower of the lies’ castle, your honeymoon had turned into a tour around the globe inside a golden cage: everybody saw you as the “trophy-wife”, a peculiar and exotic animal stupid enough to bear Pierre’s company, showed left and right, avidly and superficially looked at, never considered as a real person.

Any time Pierre would come home from unbelievably long training sessions and meetings of all sorts, you didn’t even have the strength to start an argument and cry your loneliness out. He’d absent-mindedly kiss your cheek, go take a shower and leave you to your unfinished essay draft sitting in the dust of your laptop’s memory. Eating some take-out he’d leave you choosing in religious silence, punctuated with brief chat, you’d often watch a movie on the couch: staring blankly at the screen, you’d focus on how foreign the touch of his arm around your shoulder would feel. An afterthought, quick enough to disturb the turbulence of your headspace. I simply wanted to wish you good luck. Luck. It would’ve never been out of love, but out of pure chance. As if Pierre could never learn to love anyone. Still, admitting to yourself Esteban was right would’ve been an unnecessary added humiliation. «We’re too slow in the middle sector, I’m understeering everywhere…» It was a secret you wanted to keep buried in your chest. «But you gain in the last sector, you see? Our top speed is good.» Not being reciprocated. An ineffable hurt. You miserably looked at your husband debriefing intensely with his performance engineer, standing at the back of the garage so that you wouldn’t be in the way of the many mechanics working around the car. Envious, you fixed your gaze upon the fan Pierre held in his hand, still busy talking and pointing at data on the screen. The air felt too thick to be breathed in, too dense to slide down your lungs and swoop your dark thoughts away. You had agreed to be his wife, due to the endless love you had. But what if he let that love slowly wither and die? What if you could grow out of love? What if finally having him was enough for you to become indifferent? What if neither of you could remain loyal to the promises you vowed?

Swallowing hard, you shut your eyes shooing the sudden dizziness away; and at the very same time, you felt a gentle weight lingering on your right shoulder, asking quietly for permission. You opened your eyes, obliged to wide them as soon as you saw it was Esteban. «Here, drink this.» A water bottle was handed to you, still struck by the soft eyes and the attention being addressed to you. «It’s electrolytes. With this weather I always make sure to keep hydrated, since it’s easy to lose liquids and mineral salts as well.» A thousand questions ran through your mind, to the point Esteban could almost see them being scattered from one pupil to the other. He invited you to drink once again, poking pride sitting in his chest as he had noticed you being in discomfort first. First than… him. The quick glance Pierre gave the two of you was enough to stir up even stronger satisfaction, a lovely victory in the endless mind-war they fought. «Thank you.» It came out stifled, high-pitched, a bit squeaky, but somehow filled with unexpected sadness. Pierre crossed the garage in a couple of strides, wearing a mask of concern you couldn’t read the authenticity of, shielding you with his body from the unwanted attention Esteban had provided you with. «Are you okay? You could’ve told me you were thirsty.» «Pierre, I’m fine.» you told him off, almost whispering. He darted a glance at his teammate once again as soon as his hand reached yours to grab the water bottle back, willing to take off the hideous smile he wore on his face. Lots of eyes inside the garage had observed the scene in silence, still glancing over you, as Pierre’s attentions and barely noticeable physical touch felt all too much to bear at once. You would’ve died for it, only a couple of months earlier. If only the wedding weren’t a well-thought plan, a pact between family friends, a tie nobody but you craved intimately and deeply because of the loving, totally disregarding the real practical reasons behind it. Ocon’s silhouette being drowned in his side of the garage made your mind slip back into the past, unboxing a metallic box of memories you had buried six feet underground.

Disappointed. The disapproval you had read in Pierre’s face right as you showed up to the club next to the “new friend” you wanted to be joining your historical trio had your heart shattering like a glass of wine from a polished tablecloth, painting the floor in red diamonds. Pierre had dragged you in the middle of the dancing crowd, leaving Esteban hanging at the entrance before a confused Charles. «Why did you bring him here?!» «He’s… I wanted to introduce him to you and Cha’!» you yelled, in order to be heard amidst the chaos. «I know him already, and he’s an asshole. Now tell him to leave! I don’t want him anywhere near me!» «You can’t force anyone to leave a public place! And… And I want to spend time with all of you.» He bored his eyes into yours, letting the blasting music take over your thoughts. «I’m not hanging out with you if you buzz around him.» It was definitive. «Call me when you’re done wasting time with that piece of shit.» Giving you his back, you saw him dive into the sea of people, to find and rapidly grab the waist of the brunette who had accompanied him to the party; he didn’t even bother to be far enough so that you wouldn’t see him shove his tongue down her throat, a tangle of hands messily roaming, touching, squeezing yearning skin. Este’s hand softly intertwining yours guided you towards a quiet table, to which Charles sat waiting, with drinks for the three of you; and as much as you would’ve liked to be grateful for Charles’ delighted stare, for Esteban’s soothing words, your heart still drowned in bubbles at the bottom of your cocktail. He’s my boyfriend. Those were the words you were about to say at the door of the club, to Pierre. You had already anticipated the sweetness of the moment, the satisfaction in proving you weren’t his little puppy, a slave rebelled to the master showing him the jingling keys which had freed him. The mere need to prove him anything was the undeniable sign of slavery. You’d never be free.

>>☆<<

«Are you sure?» «Yeah…» «Here? Don’t you want to go-» You shut Esteban up pressing your lips on his, carrying on the messy make out session you had started in the club’s bathroom. «Y/n, are you really sure?» The kiss was interrupted once again, leaving you with an unbearable, unsatisfied yearn making your heart swell and explode in ashes of frustration. «Don’t you love me, Este?» you whined, your fingertip dragging his bottom lip down in the drunken attempt to seduce him even further. Of course he loved you. He had agreed to take your virginity away as you leaned your back onto a bathroom’s door, during the most boring and miserable of nights out, accepting to be humiliated by Pierre in front of you, his own girlfriend, and dancing awkwardly in the crowd before you dragged him there to pour out the unexplainable need of getting your brain fucked out. Esteban loved you purely, too purely, to be fair: he felt like a noob and inexpert, an amateur he was not, while listening to your heavenly choir of whimpers and profanities, with his fingers gripping tight your hips, as not to lose you. Deep down he knew he should’ve been satisfied and content, he should’ve enjoyed that piece of pleasure and love – but was it love to you? Esteban wasn’t quite sure – because he had managed to snatch you away from Pierre’s clutch, he had laid his hand onto someone he hadn’t had already: he had won where Pierre had lost. Still, thrusting into you as waves of pleasure rocked your body and transfigured your expression, Esteban only felt like he had lost you, indeed, like he had never truly had you, not even physically. And when your warm hand caressed his cheek, he got the confirmation: you pitied him, because no matter how bold the “boyfriend” tag could be, your heart could only crave, think of and wish Pierre.

The break-up was, nonetheless, harmful. After damning yourself, considering how nice and kind Esteban was to you, how sweet some of the moments you had spent together had been, you had come to the conclusion that no other feeling in the world could replace or overshadow the consuming love you felt for Pierre. You didn’t need it to be easy and satisfying; as hurtful as it could be, you only needed him. And to his own dismay, Esteban knew it.

«Can you drop me off at that bar over there?» you pointed at the end of the street. «Why?» «I simply need to hand this to Pie-» «Oh, no, just save it. I should’ve known.» You frowned, looking at his tensed arms. «Is there something wrong?» He scoffed, gripping the steering wheel ‘til his knuckles turned white. «Absolutely not! My girlfriend only runs after another guy who also happens to be a moron and doesn’t give a shit about her while I’m being the third wheeler to my own relationship!» Esteban harshly braked in front of the bar. «Y/n, we’re done.» «What?» you gaped, still stunned by the whole conversation. «I don’t want to be with you anymore. Now get out of the car.» Beyond bewildered, you searched for sincerity and honesty in the brown chocolate eyes you had often lost yourself into, stung by hurt as you found them. «Are you seriously breaking up with me for this? I just need to return this hoodie to him!» Esteban’s eyes bore yours outraged, almost incredulous to your words. «Can’t you see the problem? Can’t you notice how you’re chasing after him and are not willing to treat me nearly the same as you treat him? You share clothes with him and you’ve never even asked once for my hoodies!» «Did you want me to?» «That’s not the point, y/n! The fact is it seems like I never cross your mind, whereas Pierre is always in your thoughts. Sorry, but I can’t bear to see you love him more than you love me. I can’t do this anymore.» Gasping for air and for words, you found none: you witnessed helpless as Esteban got out of his seat and reached to your side to open the car door and invite you once again to get out. «Y/n, don’t force me to be drastic. Come on.» «You’re being nonsense! Este, please, you can’t do this!»

Watching your first relationship crumble under the weight of painful lies, you desperately held onto the car door, despite Esteban’s hand trapping your wrist, firm. «Y/n, I told you to get out.» As you pleaded him, whispering “sorry”s like prayers, few tears pricked your eyes, which seemed to sort the opposite effect of what you had hoped for. Esteban, blinded by hurt and rejection, pulled your wrist towards him in an attempt to drag you out the car, and as an unconditional reflex you cried out to him, a tear cutting through your cheek. «Este, please… Please, don’t do this to me!» «You didn’t care about hurting me, why should I care about hurting you?» As he spitted out these words, scornful, he managed to pull you out the car with a jerk, eliciting a chain of heavy tears to reach the ground, which blurred your vision. Esteban was still talking to you, wrist aching to be freed underneath his hold of steel, but your mind refused to make sense of any of the insults directed at you, as much as your eyes couldn’t clearly distinguish his angry face. You had stopped fighting him, though, surrendered to the sad truth he had unveiled despite you trying to cover it up. A truth made of lies. Exposed to your own blade, humiliated and full of regret, you stood still, frozen, incapable to react. And it was then that you saw Esteban’s body being crashed violently onto the chassis of his car with a loud thud. Your wrist was suddenly snatched from the grab, and you swiped some tears to witness clearly the scene unfolding before you. Pierre holding Esteban by the collar. Pierre was shouting onto his face, unleashing his fury, barking his disgust and hatred; and though you and him both expected some sort of reaction from Esteban, you both watched him stay silent at the accusations. «Don’t ever touch her again! Don’t you even try to show up again, understood? Go fuck yourself and stay away from us!» Pierre shouted, putting a protective arm around your neck and bringing you close. But he couldn’t protect you from those brown eyes, which swallowed down the secrets you weren’t ready to share with Pierre. Esteban judged you in the harshest way possible: leaving you to your own conscience. «It’s okay, now. You don’t have to cry anymore.» Pierre wiped your face off, pulling your head to him for his chin to rest upon, rubbing your back with his hand, as you watched Esteban get back in the car and disappear in a cloud of smoke. «He won’t bother us anymore, I promise. You’re safe, with me.» What a paradox: safe in your captor’s arms.

You let yourself be cradled by Pierre��s honey-laced reassurances, trying to digest the shock of the whole situation bit by bit, failing not to feel sorry for having deceived Esteban and yourself. You had believed you loved him; which wasn’t and could never be true. And the awareness weighed on your chest even heavier while being held in Pierre’s arms.

HOT NEWS: Alpine’s driver Pierre Gasly is told to had been seen very intimately close to another woman during a formal gathering with top sponsors of the team. Has the recent marriage with y/n cracked already?

𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙿𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚠𝚜? 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝! 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚑 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢/𝚗, 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚖 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚂𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛.

>> 𝐒𝐞𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭: 𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐲’𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚞𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝙶𝚊𝚜𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗 “𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕”. 𝙻𝚎𝚝’𝚜 𝚋𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕... N𝚘 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚓𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝙶𝚊𝚜𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖’𝚜 𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚜… 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚓𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛; 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚕, 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚎. 𝙸𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐? 𝚄𝚙𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎: 𝙵𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚍: 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝙿𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚖, 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝙰𝚕𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚎’𝚜 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙸𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝙶𝚊𝚜𝚕𝚢? 𝙸𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎, 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚞𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚎’𝚜.

Paralyzed on the spot, you let the phone gently thud against the kitchen counter. It was nothing you didn’t expect to happen to you; you had lived through it even before whispering with soft eyes “I do” at the altar, when you used to scroll his Instagram picture-perfect shots with his girlfriends, but the timing he had chosen was way off your forecast. The thunderstorm had darkened your sky too early. You hadn’t seen it coming, you hadn’t heard a single roar of the wind in the distance. Nothing. Pierre had given you nothing either to hate or to love. Somehow, a small part of you felt sickly relief in knowing you could finally turn your eternal suspicion into hatred: you wished you could mold it in shape, form sentences to dagger him with, cries to let out your throat with violence. Nothing came. Nothing.

You stood by the counter as you let the bloody red liquid boil into the pan; staring at it, you absentmindedly kept stirring the sauce, not able to do anything else. Your ringtone blasted through the empty kitchen and it pierced your ears unexpected, instilling in your nerves a hit of anxiety which caused your hand to hit the pan; it dropped inevitably off the stove, collapsed to the ground, poured its vermilion content on the luminous tiles. Dodging quickly enough not to have the pan falling on your feet, still hearing your phone ringing, your chest benched inward with a deep, exasperated sob, sharply taking in air to fill your shaky body with. Waves of tears ran down your eyes, arms still half-hanging in the void, as if you waited for someone to pick you up and nail you to a cross, to cease your unsubduable sense of betrayal. It all crushed down on you, eyes closed, stilling liquid sadness, which ricocheted between the walls of the emptiest and loneliest flat in the world. The phone stopped ringing. It seemed to calm you down at first; the silence left you with curiosity to see if the nightmare was over, opening your eyes back to the disastrous sauce on the floor, which was supposed to be ready for dinner. With caution, your trembling fingers grabbed the phone from the marble counter, and you jumped on your feet as it started buzzing and ringing against your skin once again. A name appeared, impressed on your retina. You couldn’t help but suffocate a sob: the grab on the phone tightened together with the clench wrenching your heart, making it as small as a crumble.

>>♥<<

«Charles…» He didn’t hesitate to take in your wandering hands, flinging towards him and holding onto his shirt. Right as he had read the news, he had reached out to you: for he had witnessed you breaking down because of Pierre too many times not to know you would, eventually, need a leaning shoulder. He wore the friend’s armor with the usual embarrassment of being both friend to you and to Pierre; he was used to balancing between two sides, trying not to pick one, working as a bridge to keep you walking in the same direction. Charles always felt helpless before your broken heart: he knew Pierre and how he would’ve never done anything to hurt you, but still, he had, undoubtedly, and there was no defense Charles himself could put up. Especially if he had you weeping and sobbing in his arms, so painfully close to his heart. «I can’t do this anymore, Charles.» «I know, y/n. I know.» He swallowed hard, caressing your hair, searching for comforting words even though he was damn aware there were none. «W-why? Where did I go wrong?» Charles’s heart panged at your words: he immediately took your face in his hands, wiped tears off it with both thumbs and silently hoped to find an answer. The truth is he hadn’t a single one of them. Glancing at you, Charles wished he hadn’t been excited and bubbly about the marriage as he had been; he had nurtured so much joy, watching the relationship timidly sail the month before the wedding. He had pictured you and Pierre being the couple everyone would envy, perhaps even building a family together. He had got enamored with the way your wedding dress fitted you, how the golden ring adorning your hand had lit up your smile and your complexion even more, how every piece seemed to be finally falling into place.

In a few weeks’ time, he had witnessed the cast away of hopes. Charles wanted to tell you Pierre would’ve never done anything like it, he would’ve sworn it, if only facts didn’t force him to question everything he presumed to be sure of. «I know you’ll hate me for it, but…» he tucked a strand of your hair behind an ear, «…we should know exactly what happened before judging him so harshly.» «Charles! Do you think I really want to know the details?» your chin twitched. «I don’t need to know where… how… and since when they started fucking.» Shaking your head while picturing the atrocious scenes in your head, you put a hand on your forehead, face dropping down, incapable of tolerating Charles’ eyes boring into yours with an awful mixture of pity and sorrow. «It disgusts me.» you said, even feeling your stomach upset. Charles watched you spit out hatred as he rubbed a hand on your upper arm, slightly squeezing it in reassurance. He was friend with both of you and wasn’t keen on the idea of losing either, nor choosing where to stand. Somehow, he couldn’t pick a side. «Don’t I deserve better? Don’t I deserve to be loved?» Charles looked at you sternly, almost scolding you for such a question. «No doubts you do.» he said, definitive. «But Pierre knows that too. Before being his wife, you’re his friend.» He placed his firm hands on both your arms, searching for eye contact as he kept addressing you with a gentle tone. «He’s always loved you and respected you, even if it might have been hard to notice.» «He’s never going to love me… He never will.»

You both stood in the hall of Charles’ suite: the silence wrapping the luxury furniture was punctuated by your quiet sobs, your shaking breath, the strenuous beating of your heart. The air was warm; it flushed your cheeks and Charles’ as well. After a more attentive look, his green eyes seemed dull and tired. The night was already projecting its dark shadow onto the sky, and it was the sign which put your soul into a state of guilt: right after Charles had called you, you had run to him without a single worry of disturbing him. You had left a mess in the kitchen. You hadn’t prepared the dinner Pierre had asked you for, like the perfect lovely wife you had been up until that moment would request you to. As much as you could try to hate him, a solid and unbreakable part of you held onto the hopeless love of him, never ending source of suffering, yet inevitable. At the thought of your condemnation, you sobbed and cried a little louder, pulling Charles’s shirt near you, defeated, exhausted, distraught.

>>♥<<

The quiet sound of clinking metal timidly reached you and awoke you; you stirred, onto the couch, feeling a bit sore from sleeping all night in the same position, cranked. The sun filtered through the curtains, lighting your cheek right as you got seated. The room seemed to wheel ‘round you, on and on: thoughts started racing the new circuit of your mind, lap after lap, causing you to shut your eyes and block the incessant flow which was making you dizzy. Putting memories in order, you recalled the events. You had spent the night at Charles’ place: he had offered you to sleep in his bed, but you had decided not to profit of his generosity. In the quiet darkness of the suite, you had thrown your phone on the carpet, nestling against the squared pillow, shying away any thought concerning Pierre. But you had failed and wondered, haunted, if he might have been searched for you. After all, you weren’t home, when he clearly expected you to be there. He might have noticed. Or maybe not. Perhaps he had been taken care of by that daddy’s girl; maybe he had left you a text saying he wasn’t coming home either, leaving you wasted and rotten together with your nicely cooked dinner. If only there was a dinner to see rotting ; the red liquid crusting on the kitchen tiles printed on your mind like a crime scene you wanted to forget. The idea of your house being empty crashed your insides and twisted them in helpless disappointment. Still sitting, you eyed the phone, lying backwards on the floor, turned off since last night. What was the point of switching it back only to be flooded with more rumors you would never be ready to face?

You then finally stood up in the middle of the living area, looking around you like a stranger, and followed the noise coming from the small kitchen. There you found Charles, jogging around the counters, attempting to cook. You checked the time on the clock hung up on the wall: Monday, 1:12 p.m. «Oh, finally! Good morning!» Charles chirped, interrupting the trance status you had swamped into. «Good morning. Are you cooking lunch?» you asked, getting closer to the stove. «Yep! Some pasta with pesto for lunch!» You gulped at the mention of food. «I just woke up, Charles… I don’t know if I want to eat so much for breakfast.» «I’m sure you’re going to be hungry as soon as you see my delicious plate.» he chuckled, right before quickly removing the lid to the pan which was about to overflow in white bubbles. Done with stirring up the water, he turned towards you, who were already seated at the table, and leaned his palms onto the marble behind him. «How do you feel?» he asked. You rubbed your temple. «Tired.» Charles sighed. «You should’ve slept in my bed and let me take the couch as I-» «I’m not tired physically, Cha’. I slept quite good.» He nodded to himself in silence, looking down. «I see.» You drowned in the white noise of the pan boiling and the kitchen fan filling the otherwise dead silence, mentally visualizing the blurry picture you had been shocked by. The dizziness grew stronger and a large, deep pit in your stomach opened like a black hole swallowing your feelings. «I’ll talk to him about it as soon as I see him.» You heard Charles’ voice, but didn’t listen, as the cooking water roaring against the steel was the sound you had tuned into, and it grew louder and louder, almost unbearable to your focused hearing. With a quick glance, you saw the white foam resurfacing behind Charle’s silhouette. «Charles, the pan!» you urged. «Oh, fuck!»

>>♥<<

You stared at the plate, keeping it at a distance ahead of you with your fingertips, listening to Charles’ chewing, which never seemed that loud. The chewing stopped, together with his fork clinking against the ceramic, and you felt his eyes fixed upon you. «You need to eat something, y/n.» «Sorry, Charles, I have a messed-up stomach… After all the things I read…» «I know, but please, just have a few bites.» Charles gently pushed the plate back near you. «I can’t see you like this.» It was meant to be an unheard thought, just above a whisper, but the kitchen was so silent you could listen to his breathing. The shining fork on the tablecloth, a small piece of penne pierced; half a bite. Eyes closed, and Pierre was still there. Maybe he hadn’t even texted you: he hadn’t wondered about you at all, but left without warning, completely indifferent to your absence. The invisible wall built brick after brick in the last two weeks suddenly turned gray and heavy, painfully present. Pierre would never love you. The fork crashed against the plate, hand covering your mouth; Charles raised his eyes and stopped his every movement to observe you once again. He saw you hesitantly get up from the chair, quite unsure about what was going on, until the air punched your stomach and caused it to fling upwards, together with all its content. With no time to reach the bathroom, panic building in your chest, you abruptly turned towards the sink behind you, fingers unable to stop the wave climbing up your throat.

Charles got up, as you intended hearing his chair screeching. Not quite sure about what was happening, he first let his arms raise up a bit only to be lowered back down, helpless, indecisive, confused; then he got near you, pulling your hair out of the way, trying not to feel grossed out by the scene. «’m sorry…» you mumbled, breathing through your nausea, hoping the worst had passed. «Are you okay?» he rushed. You shook your head in denial. «Y/n, what’s up?» Your marriage was in shambles after a couple of weeks only and an insufferable urge of hiding from the entire world pulsed like a drill in your head. «I don’t know, but I’ve kind of been feeling sick the last couple of days.» «Are you ill?» Charles sighed, sorry. To think he was lying in somebody’s arms, cuddling in someone else’s warm touch, careless enough to forget about your existence and your feelings, your ego so easily, paired up with the sudden shock and horror of throwing up in front of Charles, put you in the worst state of anxiety and despair. Then, the realization. A sly thought, slithering tantalizingly amidst your scattered mind. What if…? You gripped the counter so hard your knuckles turned pale, washed out, eyes wide opened and bewildered, in fright and disbelief. Your heart ran wild, as your thoughts did, while a sigh of hysteria and awareness triggered your cry.

Charles, who had opened the tap in the meantime and had handed you a piece of paper towel to clean yourself up, slowly put down his hand and frowned, disturbed by how exasperated you sounded. «Please, please, it cannot be… It can’t be true.» you chanted low and quick, but slow and high enough in tone for Charles to understand your words. «What can’t be?» Charles asked, searching for your attention and your eyes through your erratic movements: you rinsed your mouth with water, closed the tap and swiftly dried your face with the piece of paper he was still holding. You stared at him intensely, as much as he did: he immediately read the fear overwhelming you, but still failed to see the reason, which you hoped to be able to communicate without giving it form with words. A couple of seconds were shared in that exchange of terrified glances; and before he was able to say anything else, Charles looked at you pacing quickly to the couch, raising all the pillows in search of something. «Where’s my purse?» you asked, frenzy. «I- I don’t know!» «Did you see my wallet at least?!» You picked up your phone from the ground and pressed in hurry the switching on button, cursing as it took an insufferable amount of time to turn on. Charles stepped right behind you, glancing left and right, pondering your request quickly. «What do you need money for?» Charles shouted, set in panic by your erratic behaviour. With a swift turn, you stared at him once more, eaten alive by anxiety. «A pregnancy test.» You could hear his soundless breath of surprise as he left his mouth ajar, as well as his brain’s gears in motion, getting a grip of the situation. «You… You two…» You gave Charles a regretful and desperate stare, pleading him with your eyes not to judge you harshly for falling into Pierre’s trap, chin twitching, tears pricking your eyes. «It was our wedding night. I just… I just wanted to be happy.»

You broke down in tears before you could end the sentence, covering the face and the shame it displayed with your hands. Charles froze, trying to clear his mind and think of the next step he should take; your cries, though, only distracted him from doing so. «Y/n, hey, come here.» He carefully engulfed you in a hug, shushing you, in an attempt to calm you down. «I’m going to buy a test now, okay? Stay here, sit on the couch and relax. I’ll come back in a second.» The lightweight kiss he pressed onto your head as you plopped down onto the sofa, spent, felt distant and muffled, as much as the door closing shut behind his hurried figure. You stared into the void, replaying the night of the forbidden love over and over again, in search of any possible mistake you two made, to no avail: you had been so enchanted by Pierre and buzzed in bliss that the rerun became fader and fader, the memory even more distant, as if it were a mere fruit of imagination, as if you and Pierre had never been happy together. Before you could realize it, Charles was already flinging the door back open, pouring the content of the whitish plastic bag onto the table, unwrapping the test and placing it in your hand, closing your fingers shut around it.

«Okay, so… It says to hold the stick downwards, so maybe it’s better if we use a cup or something.» Charles opened a cabinet of the bathroom and took out a plastic cup, which he handed to you. «"If testing early, use first urine of the day"… Well, that’s perfect, because you’ve just woken up! “Don’t drink lots of liquid”, done as well… I think we’re good to go.» Sniffing, you stared at Charles, in wait. «W-why are you looking at me like that?» he nervously chuckled. «I need to pee.» «Right!» He immediately rushed out of the bathroom, pressing his lips together in embarrassment.

He leaned against the door, impatiently waiting for you to signal to him to enter back again, which you didn’t. After a couple of minutes, Charles knocked, not able to bear any more silence. «Y/n? Can I come in now?» No answer. Charles put his ear against the varnished wood, trying to capture any sound, knocking once again. He got startled by a sudden yelp echoing from inside the bathroom. «Y/n?» Charles was about to put his hand on the knob, when he heard the lock being sealed under his helplessly slow fingers, which vainly tested the knob in a rush, too late. «Y/n? Please, open the door!» As if it weren’t enough, his phone started ringing and buzzing in his pocket: moving a couple of steps away from the door with a loud sigh, he was struck by the caller. «Pierre?» His name pierced your ears like the tick of a bomb: the pregnancy test in your trembling fingers, you bore your stare into the bright lines signalling the positivity of it. A child. Pierre had just cheated on you and, of all the moments, the pregnancy news had sprung at the most inconvenient time. «Have you heard from y/n? Do you know where she is? I’ve been trying to reach out to her, but she doesn’t answer.» «Yes, she is…» Charles swallowed hard and glanced at the wooden door, still perfectly closed and sealed. «She’s here with me, at my place.» «Oh, thank God. How is she?» «What?» Charles almost choked at Pierre’s enquiry. The thought of your benching figure throwing up in his sink was still vivid and his shirt was somehow slightly damp and stretched. Pierre sighed. «She trusted the news, I suppose…» Charles’ end fell silent for seconds, in which he stared at the door opening and showing your silhouette marked with tears, emotionless, holding the pregnancy test upwards so that he saw the result right as you stepped close to him. «I’m coming over. Don’t let her go, okay? See you soon.» Pierre concluded, impatient. «Bye.» You both stood in silence, thoughts taking over the room. «How can I raise a baby without a father?» The sudden question melted Charles’ heart. «Y/n, it’s going to have a father: Pierre would never leave you alone, even if you two weren’t married and the child weren’t his.» «But I don’t need him as an uncle, I need him as a father and a husband who’s present and loves us both!» To that, Charles couldn’t answer anything: he couldn’t swear Pierre’s love for you, it wasn’t in his power, though he would’ve liked to reassure you in any way possible. He hugged you for the umpteenth time, cradling your never-ending weeping self, mentally uncovering the weight of tragedy: not only you might be hurt by Pierre refusing your affection, but preferring someone else’s physical, carnal company. Discarded, thrown away like a valueless thing, having to face one of the biggest challenges of a woman’s life without the certainty of support from the man you loved.

Charles noticed a swelling point near his heart, tormented by the whole situation, which soon turned into utter panic as you twisted abruptly into his arms, startled by a loud knocking on the door. «Who’s that?» you asked, holding the pregnancy test to your chest and looking around, trembling and confused. Some other knocks thundering through the suite. «Charles! Open the door!» You daggered your eyes to the Monegasque, torn between utter terror and betrayal: why had he made him come over when he was supposed to keep you safe from the whole world, especially from Pierre’s cruelty? Charles stared at you, motionless, waiting for you to make the first move and implicitly give him the consent to unlock the door. «He cannot know.» you stated, attempting to sound firm, and failing to conceal panic. «But-» «You owe me this, for allowing him to come here in the first place. Don’t you dare to say a word about it.» Charles shook his head, eyes full of disapproval yet showing pity; then, without adding any other word, he watched you fiddle with the pregnancy test to hide it beneath your shirt and approached the door to let Pierre in. «Where is she?» Pierre urged, hurried. Your sitting silhouette towered on the couch right in front of him: your profile contrasted the long curtains of the living room and the pale, greyish tones of the weather outside casted on your skin a livid, gloomy shadow. He knelt down before you, trying to get your eyes to look at his, but he was met with the deadliest still stare he had ever seen: your glossy irises worked as a push for his hand to reach and stroke your cheek, but you shied away his touch. «Can you leave us alone for a few minutes, Charles?» The Monegasque mumbled a “Sure” under his breath, drained by the whole situation.

Pierre never stopped observing you with attention, which cost you a lot of effort into not locking gaze with him; and when you finally did, a clench of rage shut your jaw, annoyed by his behaviour. «Aren’t you tired?» «Tired of what?» you spitted out. «Of consuming yourself after a false accusation.» You reluctantly strayed away your eyes from him once again, unluckily charmed by his proximity. «But you’re not consumed, right? You expected it from me, you were waiting for me to make a mistake, weren’t you?» he sarcastically added. «You swore you would love me and trust me until the end of your life, but you didn’t hesitate to buy into whatever lie someone spread to ruin my reputation once again!» «Your reputation! Always your fucking reputation first! And what about mine? Don’t you care about how people will think of me from now on?» «I’m not saying I don’t care, I want to point out the fact that some bastard sold the news on purpose to damage me!» «I don’t give a shit about who did that, you cheated on me!» «I DID NOT! For fuck’s sake, this is what I’m trying to tell you! Someone took an out-of-context picture at a dinner where photographers weren’t allowed to try to ruin me and our relationship as well! Are you so stupid to fall for it too?»

At this point, you were crying without containing anymore; after the heated altercation, you stopped and felt your chest sting with hurt pride and feelings. «I’m stupid for having fallen in love with you since the day I met you.» Your words seemed to stun Pierre: his lips had parted in surprise at your confession, as much as his eyelids had uncovered completely the majestic blue eyes now bored into yours. The silence which followed your unwanted declaration made you curl into a ball, sobbing loudly to yourself. As soon as you felt a pair of arms embracing you, you fought back to avoid them with little whines and cries, only to be defeated by its comforting warmth: you let Pierre seal your bubble of despair, like a shield. «I’ll prove to you I did nothing, y/n, I promise. Nobody should’ve dared to write about us the way they did.» What Pierre reckoned to be soothing words weren’t reassuring to your ears at all: the missed reaction to your hopeless love for him fuelled your fears concerning the buried, but growing life in your womb. How could a child live without love? How could you? A sudden wave of nausea made you break the embrace Pierre had engulfed you in, bringing a hand over your mouth yet another time, eyes shut. «Don’t you feel good? What’s wrong?» he unconsciously put his hand on your thigh, affectionately squeezing it, as he asked. «I cooked some pasta and it tasted awful. My fault.» You quickly glanced at Charles, who had rejoined the room, getting near the couch. His stare on you was stern and tender at the same time, communicating both his blame and his will to help you cover up the pregnancy, for the moment, at least. «You’ll never learn how to cook, right?» Pierre snorted. «Probably not.» Charles huffed a smile, happy to have brightened the mood of the room a tiny bit. «I’m a bit hungry, though. Got anything in the pantries?» Pierre asked. «I’ll go check!»

While Charles walked away and left you alone once more, you sniffed and dried your cheeks, gazing down, looking away from Pierre’s burning and suddenly careful stare. «I called you a thousand times yesterday.» he spoke low, as not to be heard. You shook your head, smally. «I think you know why my phone was switched off.» «I came back home and I saw the mess in the kitchen.» he ignored your words. «What? Were you disappointed about not having dinner served?» Pierre pressed his lips together, holding back the quick answer rolling off his tongue. And then he decided to let it out. «I was worried about you.» No, he wasn’t, you told yourself. He’s trying to fool me. Still, the heartfelt tone he used to deliver the sentence rose a commotion deep in your soul: the gentle chords of golden love vibrating for him only were put in restless motion at the sound of the confession. It was just so small, but your entire feelings could feast with it for months, for years, after bearing starvation for as long. «I’ve already talked with my lawyer to sue the journalists and the source of the rumour for defamation.» he caressed your cheek, slowly, as not to startle you with the touch. «I won’t let anyone come between us. Soon it’ll be again just you and me, only us.»

As much as you would’ve liked to trust his whispered words, soft as you had never heard him talk ever before, your choked lie laid untold and yet high like a wall in the room. Pierre leaned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes, fingers still lingering over your face. Flushing your eyelids down, you recalled the same tenderness being offered to you on other occasions, too short to your liking, too faintly impressed in the memory’s film, too brutally in contrast with the bittersweet tumult raging inside of you. «I need you by my side.» Maybe you had imagined it, as it left Pierre’s lips lighter than a whisper; or, maybe, it was the first time you had witnessed some kind of fragility and sweetness in him, just so that you could fall for him even deeper and harder.

The following days, the tension you anticipated to lay between you and Pierre was replaced by a layer of anguish and plainness, wrapping you like a wet, cold cover: the pregnancy test you had hidden carefully haunted your thoughts throughout the day, making you insensitive to Pierre’s attempts at building back again a sense of familiarity, and kept you awake at night, gripping the sheets tight, shaking away the loneliness of the present and of the future.

You knew you didn’t have much time before being forced to tell Pierre: but you had never been as scared to lose him as you were, walking side by side into the paddock, sitting on a stool in the garage, avoiding your husband’s stare while he kissed your cheek, gentle. The weight of your mind drew your gaze down, to the floor. «It’s so cold in here, isn’t it?» You peeked upward at Esteban entering the garage, rubbing his arms as to shake them up from coldness; to be fair, Texas’ air was far from cold, and you struggled interpreting his sardonic smile. Pierre turned around to throw an annoyed look at him, as he gathered the upper part of the suit higher to zip it up. Having gained both of your attention, Esteban fixed his eyes on you, in mischief. «It’s so sad to see a couple being so distant and cold to each other…» You frowned, surprised by the unusual tone of his voice and the sparkle of malice shimmering on his features. Esteban tilted his head, still looking at you, his expression now turning to an unbearable shade of pity, masked by a sinister grin. «Poor y/n… I had told you Pierre would mess up.» «It’s none of your business, you don’t know a fuck!» Pierre shouted, crossing the garage to face him directly. «And stop addressing her like you’ve known her forever.» he added in a lower tone, threatening. Esteban glanced at you back again, letting out an amused scoff. «Didn’t you ever tell him?» «Stop talking to her! Take it out on me and leave her out of this!» The increasing tone of Pierre’s voice, as well as Esteban’s cornering words, made you stand up from the seat and left your mouth dry like the desert, no chance to reply. «Pierre, she can decide on her own if she wants to talk with me or not, you don’t control her. Is he always acting like that with people getting close to you?» Pierre, of course, anticipated your reactionless self. «No, only with dickheads like you! Fuck yourself and don’t get near to her!» «Isn’t it a bit pretentious for someone who cheated on his wife?» The sentence sorted the effect Esteban clearly was expecting: Pierre’s fingers gripped his suit tight, pushing him a few steps backwards due to the threatening force he used. «IT WAS YOU! You made the picture, you were there!» «Pierre, please…» your voice, shaky and feeble, made Esteban laugh. «Stop fucking laughing! Who gave you the right to ruin both our lives?!» «Oh, trust me, Pierre, if I wanted to ruin her, I had a far more interesting story… Which I think you should hear.» With one, fierce shrug, he got rid of Pierre’s tight grab, pointing his eyes back at you. «I was her boyfriend, back in high school, when you used to hang all out together with Charles.» You stood lifeless, dreading the moment Pierre would turn to give you a disappointed or maybe even mad look; but he didn’t. Esteban kept going. «You’ve always had her on your tail, but you never noticed she was in love with you… I’ve never seen anyone more pathetic.» he let out a snort. «She had so little self-respect to let me take her virginity away in a club’s bathroom… She used me like a fuck-toy and then discarded me. This is the girl you married.»

The whole garage fell silent, since nobody dared to interrupt the helpless flow of words. An involuntary yell escaped your lips as Pierre ferociously crashed Esteban’s back onto the back wall, finally getting a reaction from the mechanics and engineers, trying to get in between the two to separate them. Pierre was screaming in French, at the top of his lungs, defending you – unbeknownst to you; Esteban simply stood without reacting much, as he had done years earlier at the same physical attack he had experienced, but this time his revenge was consumed. He knew he had won after hearing Pierre shouting it was over; seeing him approaching you with big strides and hugging you, leaving the box without uttering any other word. Reading your expression on the verge of crying, a sick pleasure overtook him. He had won the war.

«Cheers, les gars!» «Cheers!» Amongst the choir of glasses jingling, toasting in delight, you raised yours without being able to reach everyone’s cup, then obliged to set your eyes on the non-alcoholic beverage you had ordered. You had received numerous side-eyed glances and mocking exclamations for even daring to ask for a banal juice on the celebration night of Pierre’s new contract with Aston Martin, which came after the unexpected departure of Lance. «Someone will have to drive us home tonight, and I don’t think Pierre is going to spare himself…» you half-joked, as an excuse. Everyone bought it with a loud chuckle, except for Charles, who didn’t miss any of your movements, bearing the incommensurable weight of truth on his chest.

He had been texting you quite a lot in the last few days: you had informed him of the explosive moments lived inside Alpine’s garage, ultimately leading to Pierre signing with Aston for next year; he had asked you, in turn, how things were now going with Pierre, if you trusted his version of the story. A few nights earlier, while reading Charles’ texts, you had looked down at Pierre, who was peacefully heaving against your chest. You couldn’t tell whether he had fallen asleep to the soothing head scratches you had been giving him since you had snuggled on the bed, as silence and quietness lingered in the air. “Did you tell him?” Pierre’s arm encircled your waist, radiating warmth all throughout your core: it served as another subtle reminder of the news yet to be shared. Though, you had never felt more terrified: it was the first time in years that you perceived Pierre’s affection being that close. Announcing the pregnancy might have taken away the precious blossom of his love, which you now couldn’t live without. Charles knew your fear, he could read it well between the lines, and he hoped you would soon rely on Pierre to get the support you’d need.

Drinking plain juice didn’t prevent you from joining friends on the dance floor, gripping handfuls of hair and shaking it to the thick, hot air of the club. Standing still at the edge of the crowd, sipping on a cocktail with eyes fixed on the group – on you, mainly – Charles and Pierre talked, undisturbed. «What are you looking at?» the Monegasque asked with a smirk. Pierre didn’t answer, he didn’t stray his irises from your dancing silhouette, drowning and resurfacing in the crowd. «She’s beautiful.» «As if you haven’t been telling me this for the past ten years, Pierre.» Charles chuckled, taking a sip from his own drink. «It’s different, now.» «How so?» Pierre hesitated before answering, gathering the right words to express his muted feelings. «Last Monday, when I came back home and I couldn’t find her, I freaked out as I’ve never done before. I called her twenty-five times, left a fucking voicemail – who does that anymore? I just didn’t know what to do, I was panicking. I slept on the couch thinking she’d wake me up after coming back at night.» «I should’ve warned you she was with me, sorry.» Pierre lightly shook his head. «No, I think I deserved that, for all the times I treated her bad.» After a small pause, Charles, frowning, prompted another question. «So what’s changed?» «I… I’m falling in love with her.» he breathed out in realization, enchanted by your vision, watching you move like a fairy amongst the large group of his friends enjoying the blasting music. Charles couldn’t stop himself from snorting and laughing. «What?» «That’s a lie.» Pierre looked at him puzzled; Charles took another sip, smiling in delight and amusement. «You’ve always loved her; but you didn’t know what love was yet.» «Said the philosopher!» Their laughter was so bright and loud that you turned your head towards the two of them patting each other friendly. Pierre’s features were painted in deep, rich warm tones, under the dim lights of the club; the sudden need to refuge in his arms and rest your lips on his draw your eyes to him like an undefeatable magnet, whose force he seemed to feel as well. «I think I know now.» Pierre said, gaze turned back again on you.

>>♥<<

Exiting the bathroom, you saw Charles waiting right near the door frame, arms crossed, distressed expression, wetting his dry lips as soon as you got near him. «Is it all good?» he asked. «Jeez, Charles! Can’t I just go to the bathroom now?» «You ran away at the speed of light! Pierre was confused and I had to stop him from following you.» Sighing, you quickly rubbed your temples. «Listen… I don’t like lying to Pierre. You need to tell him, y/n, he has to know.» His pleading voice twisted your stomach in a pang of regret and fear. «I want to see a doctor first… And I need to come back home for that.» «Why don’t you try with a clinic here?» You darted your eyes at Charles, half in disbelief, half surprised at the idea. «I can help you find one, I’ve got some contacts. Plus, I think you should check as soon as possible if everything’s okay with…» «With me, yes.» you breathed out, feeling Pierre’s heavy stare on you both. Before you knew it, he was making his way amidst the crowd with a frown, seeing you and Charles confabulate away from indiscreet ears. «He’s coming.» you whispered. Charles, visibly frustrated and failing to hide it, huffed and waited for the storm to run over both of you. And it came. Pierre’s body was burning a few centimeters away from you, igniting shame and terror, knowing you were putting the newfound trust on the line, like a fool. But it isn’t your fault, a part of you said. «Why did you stop? I want to hear about the State affair too.» Not willing to test Charles’ trust for the umpteenth time, you jumped in before he could add anything to his deadly stare directed towards Pierre. «I was telling him I’m tired and I’d like to go home, but he thinks we should stay here a bit more since we’re celebrating you.» A soft caress of his palm was enough to melt the hurried tension entangling your muscles, sure he had bought into the lie after seeing a veil of fondness cover his blue eyes. «Oh, don’t worry, I was thinking of calling it a day too. We can always party more than once, after all.»

>>♥<<

The shirts had slipped away swiftly in a matter of seconds, as your shivering skin warned your senses. You kissed in passion, somehow already accustomed to each other’s pace, yet so new and undiscovered beneath the physical layer of quickened breaths, intense heartbeats and roaming hands. Pierre dragged your head up with his long lasting, tantalizing kiss, trapping both your wrists with a smirk which spread further blush on your cheeks. «So that piece of douchebag was your first time?» He didn’t seem to wait for an answer, as he leaned down to your neck, tasting your skin open-mouthed. You simply moaned, incapable of uttering a word. It was the first time he enquired you about the awful talk you had had in the garage with Esteban and, noticing the unexpected silence on the topic for days, you had simply guessed he would never tackle it again. Still, getting drunk had probably loosen him up more than he would ever admit. «Pierre…» «What? I’m just curious.» «I don’t want to be reminded of that day.» you whined, already out of breath. Mischief gleamed in Pierre’s blue irises, pupils enlarged to take in as much of you as they could. You were able to interpret his intentions a few seconds after his stare: he buried his face behind your earlobe, teasing your skin with his teeth, just enough to gather a shot of blood cursing pleasure and electricity with its flow right where he was leaving kisses. «Is it because you don’t feel… proud of yourself?» he murmured against your neck. Guilt tangled in the middle of your chest, words and acts painfully reminding you of the infamous night. Only after years, you could realize how despicable and poor your choice had been; though, you couldn’t bring yourself to blame it. After all, it had led you to embracing Pierre as close as you would’ve never even imagined in your wildest fantasies. «Is it because you think you acted selfishly?» A sweet yet poisonous bite was left just above your collarbone, another soft breath escaping your control. «Because you hurt people around you?» Now Pierre looked hungrily at you, halting just a few centimeters from your parted lips, letting your focus drift towards his quick hands unbuttoning your jeans, as if they didn’t know any better. The stormy meaning hidden behind those words seemed senseless to you, impossible: and still his irises showed turmoil… Hurt. You were almost about to mouth a question, something along the lines of “What do you mean?”, maybe you even did; but you couldn’t tell, because Pierre thrusted his body upon yours all of a sudden, diluting your thoughts in a stain of useless reasoning, moans and whimpers the only incoherent reactions. «Is it because… you wished you were with someone else?» The floodgate of your heart crushed open: it rocked your body in such an intense wave that you had to hold onto Pierre, gripping his shoulders tight, while he kissed down on your neck once again, lavishly, anywhere he could print his love on you.

Overwhelm of senses almost ended up in a gracious state of numbness, in which Pierre seemed to be the only actor: he handled you with ease and carefulness, though intoxicated by the physical contact, and before you had realized, the night was consumed, the abatjour casting a gentle warm shade on your bare, entangled bodies. Drunk in love, you chuckled in silence, warmed by Pierre’s touch. «What’s that?» he asked. «I… When I’m with you, I feel both anxious and so happy I could die.» «Why is it funny?» «Because it’s childish. I’m still crushing on you like a kid, I only know extremes.» He hummed, pausing for a few seconds. «Why do I make you nervous?» he then enquired, again. «Because I’m scared to lose you.» It sounded so fragile that Pierre involuntarily tightened his arms around you, drawing you nearer. And deep in thought, he stared at the void. «I think I know how you feel.» «What?» you turned your head around to look at him, as if you hadn’t paid attention to his words. «I’ve felt this way too, since… forever.»

>>♥<<

The faint sound of fingers typing filled the kitchen, otherwise silent. You had woken up early, after rolling in the sheets for hours, not sleeping much; you had had a little bit of breakfast – as much as your upset stomach would allow you to – while you scrolled the online page of one of the clinics Charles had suggested you, searching for a cell phone number. You stopped, engraving the digits in your mind. If you had dialed, a spiral of appointments’ calls, check-ups and exams would follow, and you wouldn’t have been able to stop it from tumbling and assaulting you. Pierre would know soon. The mere thought scared you to death. As you saw Pierre's ruffled hair and creased eyes peeked out inside the kitchen area only to direct the slow and unsteady steps towards the bathroom, you bolted as fast as a lighting. «No, the bathroom is mine!» You stomped the door in front of his face, preventing him from stealing the precious space and time to clean yourself.

Pierre quickly eyed the laptop on the marble counter, figuring out you must've been up for quite a while; a stained mug and tiny crumbles were other signals of your silent presence, lingering around his numbed senses through the waking. He had missed the warmth of your body, the securing hold of his arms around your waist, the sweet scent cursing through him while resting his head close to yours, near enough to perceive the undeniable pull drawing him like a magnet. «You're lucky I love you!» he yelled, in order for you to drink in his amused tone. You wished you didn't. That only sentence made your guts twist and horribly enhanced the dizziness, obliging you to grip the sink tight. You had waited so many years for those words to have a meaning and now you might have it. Still, you found yourself to dread them. You were about to ruin everything.

He had not intended to; he had tried, vainly, to stop himself from looking at the screen of your laptop, but the gaze dropped involuntarily, fast, the quickest glance, while placing the mug on the counter. And the first words he read only invited him to linger on the page further. A clinic. A phone number written in bold cyphers. «Y/n?» Resurfacing from the trance status you had fallen into while lazily brushing your teeth, you answered with a whine. «Can you come here for a sec?» You deeply inhaled in annoyance, sure it was either to pull a prank on you or to get some help with the absurdly expensive coffee machine Pierre had asked for in the suite - and didn't quite know how to use yet. The puzzled look on his face told you right away all you needed, as much as his fingers brushing the laptop’s pointer pad. «Why were you searching-» «Why are you going through my stuff!?» You flung yourself onto the pc, pulling it away from his touch and his sight, hoping that could be enough to erase the content from his thoughts. As you imagined, it didn't. «What's that for? You left it spread open, how was I supposed not to see it?» Pierre followed your gushing figure placing the laptop back in the bedroom, closing the door after you two. «Can you please stop a second and explain to me what's going on?» Your body seemed to slip under Pierre's touch, then ultimately gave in, anxiety paralyzing all movements but trembling. Immediately noticing your distress, he stroked your hair in reassurance, trying to calm himself down as well through the action. «Y/n, I'm not asking again. What's the clinic for?» You avoided his stare as much as answering. «Did something happen? I need to know, y/n.» he wetted his lips, visibly frustrated. «It isn't just you, now. It's both of us. We're in this together.» After minutes spent crafting the most realistic lie, painfully witnessing Pierre being tender and caring only to be fooled by you, you were finally ready to utter a word. «I had booked a routine appointment with a gynecologist before I knew about the trip, but we aren't getting home soon, and I didn't want to miss it.» Pierre's forehead distended like a folded sheet laid spread and fresh onto the mattress, irises still concealing a hint of doubt. «Why didn't you tell me?» «I thought it'd be embarrassing… for both.» «It isn't to me.» he said, softly. «And you can talk to me about anything, you know that.» You rested your cheek upon his palm, enjoying the caress with eyes closed, quietly accepting the lie still holding up the invisible wall of miscommunication you purposely built. «Especially when the topic is dear to me.» Pierre's smug tone lifted a stone from your shoulders, as well as dropping it in your chest, heart swimming in a lake of mixed emotions. You would’ve liked to cast a spell and stop the flow of time, because bittersweet guilt and happiness were the telltale signs a fairytale was possible, after all, almost within reach. And you had ruined it.

>>♥<<

A thought had been flying around his mind all day: jogging lightly before free practice, revising the track with his performance engineer, laughing and joking around with other drivers ahead of media duties. It hadn't bothered him, it hadn't shown; not even when he came back to the hotel and didn't find you there as he expected. It slipped from his consciousness even while drifting into sleep, your scent dazzling and lulling him. It harboured beneath the surface, though, and its stealth presence made itself evident - yet misunderstood - on Saturday morning. «Where's my shirt?» Pierre asked abruptly, entering the bedroom in a hurry. Despite him trying to get you to get up multiple times as he got ready, you were still lying in bed, sick to the core, unwilling to admit it, exhausted already by the day. «Y/n, c'mon, we need to go!» Pierre huffed, poorly concealing the annoyance. You whined, weakly raising the duvet in order to get seated. Before Pierre could snort again and feel even more dissatisfied with the sudden lack of energy you showed, he hesitated on your dark eyebags, on the slow movement you dragged your limbs with, on the aura of fatigue encircling you. He stepped closer, taking your arms and lifting you up, guiding you to the kitchen steadily, but still rather quickly. As you took a seat, he placed before you an amount of food – for breakfast – which you would've always considered sufficient and that now seemed exaggerated. «If you're not hungry, drink at least. You need to keep hydrated.» Pierre's demanding voice partially saved you from the impasse of refusing food, so you obligingly sipped the cup of coffee he had pushed towards you without adding a word.

From that moment onwards, Pierre eyed you with a carefulness unknown before. He only realized now how sluggish and overall low-key you had been behaving: though, the restless rhythm of flights, hotel check-ins, suits packing and racing sessions were draining enough to present themselves as valid reasons for your lack of verve. Taking your purse underarm in a hurry, you crossed eyes with Pierre’s. «I’m ready, let’s go.» Dumbfounded by his sudden aplomb, you stood in silence, hair barely brushed, shirt carelessly half untucked in your jeans; you didn’t stray your stare from Pierre’s while he slowly took your hands in his, a strange thoughtfulness guiding the movement. The silence said more than you two were capable of. It seemed to be thrown back in time to those longing, perusing stares you studied each other with, always analyzing expressions and reactions, never sure of getting it right yet desperately needy of the other. You both swam comfortably in that tacit conversation, exchanging fears, doubts, loving care; but Pierre knew it was time to go – it had been for a while, already – and couldn’t restrain himself from clearing his throat. «Yep, I told you. Let’s go.» you whispered.

>>♥<<

It had been Charles' idea, to have a brunch all together inside the paddock: he had found a small sort of restaurant, right in front of Pirelli's backdoor, unfrequented by VIPs and paparazzi. If you didn't know Charles well enough, you would've guessed he simply wanted to check on you; but him craving some good old company and wanting to shy away from the crowd of the track was the most likely scenario. Hanging out together, the three of you, felt like a fever dream, every single time: the memories would merge, the jokes and the laughs would crack on their own with such a flow and an ease unexplainable to anybody else. Sitting next to the most important people of your life was a luck you would never take for granted. «…should buy one. What do you think?» «I think that’s awesome, really.» You became self-conscious of the wedding ring pressing Pierre’s name onto your skin as an endless kiss, recalling the ebbing moments of the day you became one. «Y/n?» Again. The wave knocking at the pit of your stomach, the sudden harmony of smells emanated by your dishes was quick to stir your quiescent sickness. «Y/n? Did you hear the question?» Charles’ voice obliged you to answer. «Uh? Yeah, yes, I did.» you composed yourself as quickly as you could. «I think it’s a beautiful opportunity for you.» «We’ll help you, if we can do anything for it. Like, if you need taste testers, we’re more than happy!» Pierre chuckled. You forced a smile too, in order not to contrast your husband’s bright expression. However, it all spiraled when a pile of used tires – the F3 free practice had finished less than a half an hour earlier, you reasoned – was dragged in a small interstice near Pirelli's building, leaving an unbearable smell of burned rubber. You felt yet again nauseous, making it blatantly obvious clasping your mouth and nose, focusing on your breathing, eyes closed. Pierre and Charles' stares laid on you in a single motion, both catching on what was happening (with different awareness, clearly). Pierre couldn't let the memory of your missed breakfast fade into nothing, and his racing mind quickly figured you must be ill; he trapped your free hand in a grab which you immediately complied, he got up and kneeled next to you, seeing you didn't give any signs of the clench in your stomach loosening.

In the meantime, Charles quietly and politely asked you if you needed a glass of water, if you'd want to go to the restroom, to which your silence only fueled his helplessness and sly embarrassment. «I'm okay, guys.» you breathed out, finally removing your fingers from your lips, but still too scared to open your eyelids and be attacked by their sharp stares. «No, you're not, y/n. You've been sick for at least a week.» Pierre's statement worked as a tymbal clang to both you and Charles, so that you looked at each other briefly but intensely, wondering whether the ticking bomb laying untold amongst you three had just exploded without you noticing. “Tell him” was painted in capital letters, bold, inside Charles' green irises.

Internalizing the truth impossible to fool, you let Pierre's fingertips gently move your chin towards him, since you had enchanted in reflection on Charles. Suddenly confronting your husband's – yes, because he was your husband – unexplainable beauty like it was the first time you really saw him, the news seemed to brim out your lips, overflowing with contrasting emotions you weren't able to conciliate. Gathering all your courage despite the trembling of your chin, you reciprocated the hold of Pierre's hands: it was building up, from your chest up to the throat, bypassing the rationality check. «I need to tell you something.» It was nothing but a whisper; Charles, unknowing to either you or Pierre, slowly got up from his chair, standing near you and placing his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it for comfort. Pierre waited in silence for your words, pupils scattered all around your features trying to get the smallest hint of which nature the news was. The tears pricked your eyes as soon as the thought hit your synapsis. «I'm pregnant, Pierre.» Releasing the pent-up distress, finally relieved by the burden of secrecy, you cried freely, ready to face the consequences of the news.

A part of you expected an endless chain of angry sentences and despair, complaints, immaturity. And the part of you who didn't expect such a reaction, or at least hoped for a better outcome without much conviction, still managed to astonish before the taken aback but sweet curve of Pierre's eyebrows, unbelievably moved by your words. «Really? Are you sure?» His mistrust annoyed you slightly and made you scoff through tears. But before you could answer with a snappy remark, he was all over you, hugging your sadness away, melting in an embrace that swiped bad omens, that dissolved the clouds of doubt in a sparkling, bubbly dust of relief. Pierre left a long peck on your forehead, which only freed tears from running ceaselessly. «I can't believe it…» he whispered out of an uncontainable smile. Your body and soul, both in shock from experiencing the most releasing happiness, trembled like leaves under the wind of Pierre's affection. He glanced at Charles, looking for confirmation, which he found expressed through the dimples of his best friend; then focused back again on you, whose reaction Pierre couldn't quite make out. «You're happy, right?» he asked, almost fearful of the answer. Sobbing a laugh, you leaned against his hand cupping your cheek and enveloped it with yours, fond. «Of course I am.» He paused, taking a full look at you in excitement and amazement, letting the thought settle in his heart. «When did you find out?» he asked, cupping your cheek as a fragile corolla of petals. Your mouth dried out, your throat was still knotted; thankfully Charles beat you on time in answering. «Almost two weeks ago.» You waited for it, you anticipated the hatred and the – righteous – disappointment in getting to know that his best friend had witnessed and received the news first. Fear invested you once again, through sobs and hiccups. «Y/n… Look at me.» It all seemed to down on you at once: sat in your weakness, you had disclosed all your cards and were now the most vulnerable you’d ever been with him. Not even when you had promised in front of your families to love him for the rest of your life, not even lying in his embrace and cuddling with him after breathing out affection and pleasure on top of each other’s skin; no rejection could hurt you more than now, while carrying two lives inside of one body, two souls, doubling the sorrow. His serious demeanour only spiked up your anxiety, as you realized you weren’t ready at all, neither emotionally nor mentally, to face him yet.

He shut his eyes closed, he prepared himself to talk; you braced yourself for the impact of the cruel reality. It had been fun, until it had lasted. This is no fairytale, you chanted to yourself, lulling your crying soul. «I love you.» You looked at him dumbfounded, waiting for the answer to be completed with a "like a friend", or something of the sort which would've stabbed your heart with pain as he would always do; but a peaceful silence followed his words, and the longer you stared at each other, the deeper the realization would set in your heart. The promise you had been waiting for since the day you had met Pierre, which you expected to hear at the altar, was now vowed to you, him still kneeled down. «When…?» you involuntarily voiced your reasoning, not able to make sense of it, caught by total surprise. «Since forever. It just took me a while to realize…», he then glanced at Charles. «… and the help of a friend.» Spontaneously, you flung your arms around him, heart aching in joy and bliss. You watered and creased Pierre’s shirt, feeling life flourish just by listening to his words; to seal them, he plastered a kiss on your reddish, smooth lips, and heaven reached earth. «A baby, uh?» Pierre said almost to himself, placing his spread hands on your belly. You couldn’t help but have eyes brimming with emotion, gently brushing with your fingers his: was there anything which could make you happier and more strongly bonded together? «Charles… I think we’ll need plenty of your ice-cream in the near future.» «Hey!» you patted Pierre’s shoulder, amusingly offended. «Oh, for sure. I’ll make you a discount, since you’ll buy it in large quantity.» «Guys!» you laughed, trying to stop their endless flow of jokes. With your left hand still pressed onto Pierre’s, you gazed down at your wedding ring, shining and glimmering under the sunlight. Maybe, no matter how unhoped and unplanned, yours was truly a fairytale.

to @gaslysainz: Thanks again for the request! I really hope you’ll like it…I’m not fully satisfied with how it turned out, but I couldn’t work on it any further 😂 I’d be glad to know what you think 🥹❤️

AND TO ALL OF YOU, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING AND FOR BEING PATIENT! I’D REALLY APPRECIATE IT IF YOU LEFT A NOTE FOR FEEDBACK, SO THANKS IF YOU DO! HOPE YOU HAVE A NICE DAY! . · ˚✧

Navigation || Masterlist

[cialovesklopp]

prologue

❪ masterlist — ❫

summary — it's no secret anymore to anyone that follows f1 that mercedes is doing bad. something just isn't going the way it should. the silver arrows are going through a rough phase which leads toto to become a bit more creative about recrutement.

song — mercedes [ brent faiyaz ]

warnings — light mention of death and toxic environments

word counts — 5k

cia’s quick rambles — so sorry for the long wait, exams came up and i couldn't find enough time to edit this over. i'm so excited for this and hope i can make it justice to all the other good max stories.

— july 2023

there was always a certain sense of belonging that people attributed to specific persons or locations. often it was due to certain attachments and feelings people had grown for those persons or places that created this invisible bond. but it had never been like that for aaliyah. 

she failed to form connections, to embrace attachments to people or things. like a program glitch in a computer, she couldn't fulfill the command despite the correct codes. she never truly felt rooted in any place — she never belonged somewhere.

she was too smart to be here, to sit in a back with other people that attended this class of university. yet the fear of her own intellect hindered her from leaving it. going to university was like going to school again — one schedule and one job. nothing else to worry about for the moment. she was relieved of the concern for something else. 

going to university eased the pain of knowing that she felt like she would never belong somewhere. 

after her father died, all she had received for giving ao much love was rejection. as if an unspoken rule had been set up, that stated that aaliyah had been the cause for it. and it certainly screwed up the rest of the life she had lived till now. 

aaliyah had been destined to do great things — she remembered the way her middle school teachers told her that she would be the one to cure cancer. she had always been intelligent, not just smart — but terrifyingly intelligent. 

they would laugh if they saw her now and where she was. wasting her potential away at a simple university in munich. 

sometimes she looked out of the window and the resentment towards her family, especially her mother, burned hot in her stomach. getting lost in her thoughts meant her mind wandering off to far and opening boxes that were meant to stay closed. memories being replayed that contained secrets she wanted to take to her grave with her. 

she may be closed off towards others but it was an efficient way to live. to protect her heart from disappointment again. she did not have the space to let a lot of people in again. 

her heart had built a thick stone wall around itself after the accident. an accident, she would always blame herself for. everything was different from now: she was left with nothing but the void created by the loss of the only thing that held any meaning in her life.

now she felt like an empty shell of her former self, with no purpose or path to follow. the man who had said, a man with no purpose is no man knew what he was talking about. 

aaliyah was walking on an endless journey that seemed to have no finishing line, a particular hopelessness gripping her tighter with each step she took. and it felt like an invisible string was always pulling her back. 

tugging at her harshly till she fell back to where she started. it was a vicious circle, a haunting loop of pain — one that seemed to take no end. aaliyah was simply lost and no amount of therapy sessions could cure the inner pain she wandered around with. 

“just one more day,” aaliyah murmured to herself. it was her typical mantra she told herself everyday to calm herself down, to reassure her that she was not caught in her past life anymore. 

there were always the easier days and the harder days that needed assurance. days she passed on ease were often spent with eva. harder days however had her shivering in her bed, her entire body shaking and freezing. 

she sat down on her usual spot in her physics and thermodynamics that were part of her engineering degree, her mind shutting down again while her eyes travelled around the room. it felt good to be able to think of something else when your brain was working twenty-four seven. when thousands of thoughts travelled through her brain every second and seemed to over analyze every information too quickly. 

but something felt weirdly off today. the room was busy, full with more people than usual. this wasn’t a class for just anybody — people in here were ready to get their degrees in engineering. this class could compare to a harvard’s law class in terms of difficulty and intelligence. not everyone was able and allowed to take it and yet today the room was bustling with more people than usually. 

aaliyah noticed the long queue outside the door, filled plenty with faces that she had seen on campus but all unfamiliar to her. she was not one to usually look for socialisation when it wasn’t exactly necessary. in addition to that there was also a feeling of anticipation, lingering lightly in the air. she was curious what all the turmoil was about but at the same time, she was reminded of caution towards it. the less she knew, the less were the chances to be entangled in it. 

she smiled when her professor — who was her favorite — walked in and aaliyah instantly remarked that even he seemed excited about something. so she had definitely missed an important detail. but what exactly?

just like in every class, the professor began with reading out the attendance list, aaliyah lifting her hand to confirm her presence. she was surprised however when her professor then sent everyone else, that had not been named, out of the class. 

“everyone whose name i have not called for the attendance of my class may leave now. i’m sure you all have your classes where you’re supposed to be today,” said her professor loudly, so that even in the back it was clear who was welcomed and who was not. aaliyah turned around and was surprised by the large number of men who all walked out disappointedly.

the rest exchanged excited whispers, all giddy about something but she couldn’t care less. it wasn’t like she had any friends in her class anyway. she wasn’t the only girl that took this class but she was one of the few that seemed to excel in it. and for some universal reason, women found it easier to be jealous than to work together. 

their class started just like always, with one of them presenting their work about the mechanical piece they had been assigned to design as homework. the professor went on with his class, and aaliyah felt herself drifting off, her eyelids becoming heavier and heavier with every minute that passed. another impact of her insomnia that plagued her in the night. even running on several cups of coffee wasn’t doing it for her anymore, so that she resorted to sugar to stay awake. 

she flinched, jolting awake when there was a knock on their door. she watched the way her professor’s lips turned upwards, forming into a smirk as he turned towards the door. “come in,” he said and in walked a man, tall and formally dressed in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black pants. he oozed a certain air of authority that had everyone quieten. 

the atmosphere in the room changed instantly, aaliyah noticing her seat neighbour’s eyes widening but all she could observe was that he definitely did not belong here. he was definitely overdressed in comparison to her loose grey sweatpants that she had matched with a sweater that had yale university printed on. the irony of it. 

her professor greeted the man like an old friend, making it clear to aaliyah that the two knew each other and it wasn’t a mandatory visit like the others they had gotten. however to her she did not know of his significance, completely left in the dark. 

“so for today we have a special guest some of you may already know,” he interrupted them from their work, everyone stopping what they were currently doing to listen to him. “he is an old friend of mine and owed me a favor. but i’m going to let him present himself.” 

the instant the guest began to speak, aaliyah could immediately make his austrian accent out. she was sure to have seen the man somewhere before but her brain, that was usually running at one-eighty, was failing her tragically. 

“some of you may know me from racing, others just from motosport — but for the rest who do not: i am toto wolff and i’m the team chef of the mercedes-amg formula one team as well as the ceo of mercedes-benz motorsport.”

— so apparently, they had a celebrity in the room with them. explains the queue outside, aaliyah thought to herself. 

“for those who do not follow motorsport as much: formula one is the elite of what concerns motosport. it’s the best against the best that compete there and the world of f1 is constantly changing due to this. as eighth time constructor’s champions we know that and what is expected of us. but for you, who are the future of engineering, i think it’s important that you get a realistic insight into what that actually contains.”

aaliyah now understood what all the turmoil really was about. they didn’t just have anybody in front of them — they were speaking to engineering royalty. not in the sense of wolff actually working in engineering but he was the reason the best worked with the best. because they absolutely needed to excel. 

standing in front of them with their professor sitting down at his desk, he began to speak and tell them about the world of motorsport and the constant changing requirements they had to adapt to. he instantly had all of them hanging onto every of his words, captivating them with the way he spoke about the subject.

the main point of his entire talk was of course mercedes amg and its evolution; however he also highlighted the complexity of the entire motorsport business and how the industry actually worked. something that reality was hiding from them. it was a big field that covered all kinds of sections. aaliyah listened closely even though she didn’t see herself ever working in that kind of environment. 

who would even hire her?

when the talk ended and students were allowed to ask questions, she found herself drifting off again and started to sketch mindlessly into her college block. it wasn’t that she shied away or conceived her fellow students as annoying; she just found socialisation exhausting and it wasn’t like they were going out of her way to speak with her. 

her existence was only acknowledged by them when they required something from her, leaving her to always sit all alone in her row. her presence faded there into the loneliness and solitude she felt comfortable with. now she wouldn’t want to change it anymore. 

after the whole questioning round, toto challenged the class to design a specific piece for a car to apply what they had learned the entire semester long. something that aaliyah was able to do in her sleep now. it was one of the rare occasions where she liked to let her brain run crazy to overanalyze every detail. to say that aaliyah was a perfectionist would be a clear understatement. 

it was the curse of a mind that raced ahead of the rest, interpreting sometimes more than what was needed and leaving behind a lonely trail that she herself couldn’t always understand. 

it was no surprise to her that she finished her sketch earlier than the others. however instead of just leaving it like that and calling toto over to see if she had gotten it right — which she had of course — she continued to develop her idea, letting her mind do its own work. 

it wasn’t really refining that aaliyah was doing. the perfectionist in herself would call it stepping outside of comfort zones — and as long as it worked, no one cared anymore that there had been one. it was something her mother had taught her.

gloria, aaliyah’s mother was no saint. and she had enforced the lifestyle to aaliyah of finding loopholes in the system whenever she could. last time aaliyah had spoken to her had been two years ago, shortly before the accident. 

possessing the knowledge that her own mother did not come by to see how her daughter was doing who was fighting between life or death — that had done it for aaliyah. cutting her mother off had probably been one of the easiest and yet also things she had accomplished. it wasn’t exactly a secret but it also wasn’t something she just shared with anyone in order to let the deep-etched wound in her heart heal. 

the whole trauma-dumping aspect and all that.

caught up in her mind, aaliyah didn’t notice toto going around and looking at what the students had produced. his eyes stopped once they fell on aaliyah’s drawing and a slight look of surprise appeared on his face when he saw her drawing.

it was more like the astonishment and impression that appeared on his face when his eyes caught her sketch — he had given the same task to all the classes, especially those at harvard, and while they had all completed the task no one had ever thought further than the solution. 

just like math they had solved the equation; found the x and that was it. they did not think about the correlation in which the answer might be related with the task or how they could give it more depth.

toto walked back down to the front where the professor sat and pointed discreetly at aaliyah who still seemed caught up in her thoughts. 

“who is she?”

a mishevous twinkle lit up in the professor’s eyes. “ahh, that would be one of my students,” he retorted playfully. 

“i’m serious.” he replied with a dry chuckle.

the professor looked at aaliyah, studying her in an interesting way, trying to take her all in again. “the student you’re so interested in is aaliyah prince. she’s one of my top student.”

toto nodded, his brain processing the information. “she’s smart. you’re teaching them well.” 

“i can assure you she’s more than smart. it’s all her brain.” he had seen where toto wanted to go. one did not have to be an idiot or live behind the moon to know that mercedes was doing badly at the moment. 

and he would be lying if he denied his soft spot he had grown for the black student. especially after find out out what she had all gone through. 

the professor stood up, leaving toto with a perplexed expression. he cut the working phase in order for them to compare their results. aaliyah looked up and secretly took her airpods out to listen what they had to say.

she did not need any confirmation to know that her exercise was done correctly — it wasn’t really to sound (überheblich) but she had designed the same thing a hundred times before for exam preparation. so she only listened half-mindedly to what the others had to present. who were trying their best to impress the f1 team chef.

a small smile made its way onto her lips when she saw the message her best friend had sent her. with eva studying psychology and ethics, she often had more time than aaliyah and usually finished class earlier than her. and the two girls had started the habit to always get lunch together when possible — it was often the one thing aaliyah looked most forward to during the day. 

class finally ended and she was one of the first persons to pack her things together and leave however her professor had other plans. 

“frau prince, könnte ich kurz mit ihnen sprechen?” he asked her and aaliyah slowly trodded back into the room. she suppressed the growl her stomach let out and waited patiently for what her professor had to say. — could i speak to you quickly

her professor pointed to toto, who was still mustering her with a skeptical yet curious glance. “he is the one who would like to talk to you.”

“me?” she asked perplexed.

toto nodded. “your drawing was very impressive. you thought ahead of the task and developed it to make it more than just a simple design. that’s exactly what we need.”

“for what?”

“a job,” toto replied in a short way. “we need someone like you and you do seem to fill out all the requirements.”

aaliyah looked at him confusingly. “excuse me sir, i don’t want to be rude but do you usually give out jobs to students after giving a lecture?”

toto let out a small-wholehearted laugh. “no, i actually do not. you’re a special case i guess.”

was zum himmelswillen, aaliyah thought in her mind as she looked at the man in front of her. and people told her she was crazy sometimes. 

she pinched herself, just to make sure that she was not dreaming this and still in class and stared at toto with wide eyes. she was no one special, she did not come from huge money and she had a huge past that she would prefer if it stayed hidden. 

aaliyah couldn’t leave, even if she wanted to. all roads led back here anyway. 

“and this job… where and what would it be?” she inquired carefully. 

“i want you to become your new chief technical engineer. well not officially but i want you to fill someone’s position while they’re on personal vacation.”

her professor smirked at her whereas aaliyah’s face scrunched up in confusion. 

“i thought you needed the best of the best? i’m sure there are thousands of people who probably meet the requirements you have and have the actual experience. i know nothing about formula 1 and racing cars.”

“maybe but i think a fresh pair of eyes would do us some good. and i’ve been told you have a degree in physics which is incredible at her age.” he reached for his bag and pulled out a small green card. “think about it and then give me a call.”

“why me? if it’s because of the task, everyone finished it and got it correct.”

“but they didn’t think further than the basic task which you did. you thought ahead, developed your starting idea and that’s exactly what we need right now. innovation. someone to think outside of the box.”

he bid goodbye to her professor, waved one last time to aaliyah with a small smile and then left the room. her eyes did not leave the door, even after he had left the room as she stared into the distance. she had already forgotten eva and their planned lunch date. 

she looked at the card in front of her and turned it around to inspect it more. it was probably the weirdest thing to have happened to her in the past two years. 

the thought of leaving, as nice as it sounded, also terrified her deeply. petrified her mind when she wondered whether she could. she had rebuilt a life here, created a new identity that was not instantly connected with the pain and trauma she had to go through. 

she wasn’t aaliyah, the stupid girl from back home anymore. who had mistaken attachment for love and fallen deeply into a trap that could be described as the demise of her life. the peripety if her life story was ever made into a movie. 

“i can see the wheels turning in your head from here,” her professor tore her out of her thoughts and aaliyah turned. 

she let out a small chuckle, staring at the card in front of her. “this is probably the weirdest thing that has happened to me since i started here.”

“could also be seen as the best thing,” her professor replied. 

“i don’t know how smart it is to start something else when i haven’t finished this. finished here.”

“aaliyah, you’ve always dreamed of doing this, getting out of here. and somebody just handed you your way out of here on a golden plate.”

aaliyah put the card into her bag. “not everything that shines is usually gold. this could hurt me in many ways if it backfires. and what about my degree?”

her professor waved dismissively. “i’ll simply write this down as a project. we’ll admit it as your fourth semester internship that you would have to do anyway.” 

it seemed easy, way too easy for aaliyah. it couldn’t be as simple as this. 

she grabbed her bag and was about to walk away when her professor called her back again. 

“aaliyah, please think about this. i know you probably think you do not deserve this but you do. let some happiness into your life again.”

“i’ll think about it.”

she nodded and exited the class. at least this time she would have something to tell eva in her class. she would rather drink acid than listen eva rant about her crazy sex escapades from last night.

the two girls were sitting on aaliyah’s bed in her bedroom, adorned with the soft rays of light as it took its descent and a bottle of wine between them with two glasses in front. they were sipping on the bordeaux liquid while she recounted what had happened to her today, the wine making aaliyah pour all her feelings out. 

the blonde sat across from her, listening patiently as she tried to console the black woman. too often the two found each other in this position, with eva either bringing the best wine or the cheapest vodka she could find. 

aaliyah always found a certain sort of solace and calm within her best friend. the two had met at a stupid frat party aaliyah had been forced to go by her roommate and had been inseparable since then. and over that time, eva had stayed by her side when she had gone through the endless trauma of her mother and had helped her get out of her toxic environment. 

they were connected through more than friendship at this point with the amount of shit the two had already gone through. 

“i have no idea what i’m going to do,” she sighed, swinging her glass absentmindedly. “it’s a good job offer — like i  want to do this but i can’t leave everything just here.”

“girl, the only thing i see is you sabotaging yourself again. i mean, what are you leaving here? your annoying class of misogynistic assholes? that sorry excuse of a woman that calls yourself your mother? i’m sorry honey but the only thing you would be leaving behind is me and i can take the family jet anytime if i wanna visit you.”

aaliyah threw a pillow at her best friend. “hey, they’re not all bad. we are five girls in my class.”

“and four of them choose to be jealous, racist bitches towards you,” eva replied sassily. “look, i get it. change can be scary as fuck and speaking as a philo-major, we humans don’t like stepping out of our comfort zones. but staying won’t make you any happier.”

she chewed on her bottom lip, taking in eva’s advise. “but you know how much they sacrificed for me, to come here and start over. how much it meant to him for me to do this.”

eva threw her arm around aaliyah, pulling her back  with the sudden force and making her nearly lose her drop her glass. "oh love, i can assure you the last your father probably wanted was for you to stick and waste your entire potential here. clinging to familiarity is never going to change things and it’s not gonna be the salvation you’re seeking so much.”

deep down aaliyah knew that eva was spot on with her analysis of her. but behind the truth hid so much more. aaliyah wasn’t looking for happiness and forgiveness anymore, she had accepted that she could never deserve his pardon. she had tried to forgive herself, to move on but she always stayed in the same spot. the huge amount of guilt that paralyzed her from moving on would never allow her to thrive and live. because she was the reason someone else couldn’t. 

and that person deserved it so much more than she did. 

eva grabbed aaliyah’s hand. “i don’t want you to stay here because i know you’re not happy. this entire city will always remind you of them. and you’ll never get over it if you stay here. you deserve to thrive and let’s be honest, that’s not gonna happen here.”

“but even if — this job is just a lot. working there would mean constantly traveling and not settling down.”

“wasn’t it your dream to travel the world just like your dad? taking this job would make it ten times easier. it’s practically your ticket to do this.”

“so you really think i should take this leap?”

eva snorted. “i would be lying to you if i said i want this completely because you’re my best friend and i hate you leaving. but for you, yes. take this job and be happy. it’s not only what your dad would have wanted for you — micah would have wished for you to do the same.”

she nodded, disregarding the pang in her heart at the sound of his name. her presence here, away from the turmoil she'd created, stemmed from the cascade of events that led to his demise. a single misstep initiated the unraveling, each consequence toppling like dominoes until the crash. it all lead back to her.

when the last drops of bordeaux had been consumed by the two students, the blonde stood up and bid her goodbyes to aaliyah, announcing that she had an early morning tomorrow. eva hugged her once more and pressed a soft kiss on her cheek — a habit they had developed. 

“please promise me that you’ll think about it,” eva had murmured into her ear and aaliyah had nodded, which seemed enough to satisfy her. her best friend had left then and she found herself all alone again. 

taking this job seemed to be so easy, everyone she had talked to seemed to push her towards it. but it was almost too easy which frightened aaliyah so much. 

she was qualified enough for the job in terms of intelligence. the job was not completely out of world for her but she could not imagine herself leaving. her mind had twisted everything to the beautiful life she lived in that in the end was just an illusion -- but an illusion so ideal and perfect that she didn’t want to leave it. 

it was like knowing that one was wearing rose-colored glasses and deliberately leaving them on, with no regard for all the consequences it could cost. 

taking this job was a risk for her, she knew that much already. but eva was right, micah would have wanted this for her. and she owed it to him to at least try. no matter how big the impact of her fall would be. it was the least she could honor him with after destroying everything. 

accepting this position posed a gamble for her, she knew that much already. but eva was right. micah would've wanted this for her. she felt indebted to him, compelled to make the attempt, regardless of how big her potential downfall could be. it seemed the minimum homage she could offer after dismantling everything.

it was way past eleven when aaliyah grabbed the card toto had given her earlier and her phone and tipped in his number. she was anxiously tipping her foot as she waited for the caller to take the call and was surprised when it only had to ring three times. 

it was now or never. 

“hello?” a hoarse voice asked on the telephone and aaliyah innerly groaned. people were sleeping at this hour, of course it was the wrong timing. 

“this is aaliyah, the girl you offered a job today sir,” she said nervously. 

toto gave a small laugh. “yeah, i remember and you really don’t have to call me sir.”

she nodded even though he couldn’t see her. “okay, understood. i just -- well, i wanted to inform you that i’m taking it. the job as interim chief technical engineer.”

“i’m very happy to know that you’re accepting my offer.”

there was no going back now, aaliyah realized. she had taken the first step towards a vast mountain that had no way to return back. there was only one path and she had just sealed her fate by taking it. 

“yeah, i just hope i won’t regret it.”

“i have no doubts that you’re going to excel. but remember: formula one is ruthless and you’re competing with the best now.”

if she had known before, how far people were willing to go to win, she definitely wouldn't have taken the position.

[nervocat]

“Big Brother Sunday, What are you Thinking?” (cws: slight manipulation (only mentioned once), pretty major hsr 2.2 spoilers - wc: 340, platonic/angst, gn reader)

Sunday. He was an interesting man, one who people couldn't quite read — not even you or Robin, his younger siblings. He cared, sure, and was a great older brother, you just wondered what he thought.

Robin was away quite a bit, causing you to be with Sunday when he himself wasn't busy. You wandered the Dewlight Pavilion a lot when he was, not knowing what else to do.

You were young, about mid to late teens, yet Sunday still had some things over you. He had no ill will, you knew this, but you couldn't help but feel you were being manipulated in some way — lied to. You would be right.

Sunday, he who followed the “Order”. It was a shock, really. Robin and you wholeheartedly believed in the Harmony and you thought Sunday did too, but he had chosen a different path and went the wrong way about making a dreamscape for people to lose themselves in.

You couldn't help but not love him still though. He was your older brother, after all, and he never harmed you in any way. He took care of you and Robin, but was just led a stray.

“Big brother, what do you think about?” you'd ask him. He'd just laugh as he pats your head, ruffling it a bit with his usual smile adorning his lips. It always seemed softer around you and Robin and less forced (though that may just be you).

“They're thoughts for a reason, my dear sibling,” you smiled at him and playfully swatted his hand away, laughing with him.

And now you know what those thoughts were, but you wish you didn't.

You look at your brother, a frown on your face. Robin had already spoken to him, and you had decided you also wanted to talk with him before he went to the IPC for trial.

“Big brother Sunday, why?” the hurt in your voice stung Sunday a bit.

He didn't want his little siblings to see his thoughts like they did, but now they were out and about, so why not divulge you a bit?

[ ★ notes: idk why I'm having sm motivation to write platonic stuff but I'm not complaining :33 writing platonic Sunday angst 🙏🙏 HOPING I GOT HIS CHARACTER RIGHT.. I LOVE IT SM I DON'T WANNA MISCHARACTERIZE HIM 😰😰 I got less and less proud of this (kinda) as I went but it's not my worst 👍👍 feedback for this one is welcomed :,)) ]

★ — © nervocat || I appreciate any reblogs made, and pls don't repost or translate my works anywhere, ty — ✦