#my next three weekends at least are busy

[storm-of-feathers]

aaaaaaa

[loumauve]

I snapped today at work, and by snapped I mean I politely commented on a help desk ticket by summing up an mess of an (type of) issue that's come up for at least the fourth time in the 2+ months I've been managing user accounts, and asked the person responsible to fix it (himself for once) because last time I fixed his mess-up it took me two whole days to work out the details with at least four other colleagues from different departments and I really don't want to do it again. there's other shit that needs doing, I've been working 10+ hour days for most of this week already, so I need to cut down not add on more.

(good thing tho - at least we managed to fix the issue where the dataset of a newer employee got mixed up with another one of the same name and therefore wasn't able to apply for any of the access/accounts she needed. technically not entirely my area but it does impact us not being allowed to create an account for her so I figured I might as well track that issue down. took three days and at least three other people, but hey - it should all work out now. yay for that)

[ifeelfreewithoutmyshoes]

I kinda wanna go on a rant but I honestly just think I need to sleep

[astonmartinii]

fatherhood looks good on you | george russell social media au

pairing: george russell x fem albon reader

there comes a point in the relationship where you take it to the next level

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

- part of the brother's best friend series -

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, landonorris and 783,409 others

tagged: georgerussell63

yourusername: looking so good i want to give you a baby

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user1: WHAT

user2: we really be saying anything on the internet these days

alexalbon: SHUT THE FUCK UP THE LITERAL ONLY RULE OF THIS RELATIONSHIP WAS THAT YOU KEEP THIS SHIT TO YOURSELVES

yourusername: gosh a girl can't have baby fever in peace these days

alexalbon: unless that baby is coming by stork you can put that talk on hold real fast

yourusername: just because lily is busy does not mean you have to take it out on me and george

georgerussell63: alex is it illegal for a man to be handsome?

alexalbon: if it's illegal to be handsome, you'd have the cleanest record known to man

yourusername: STOP RIGHT THERE DIDN'T YOU KNOW THAT LYING IS A SIN

alexalbon: i'm not going to say YOUR boyfriend is hot, no.

yourusername: just because i got in there first 🙄

user3: i don't think she's serious but also george with a baby is just too cute not to happen

user4: george is the perf instagram boyf like he's so ready to pose

landonorris: well that definitely is something we all want to know

yourusername: i know you would LOVE to know ALL the details norris

georgerussell63: she's never going to let your crush go lando, you gotta just hold it

landonorris: i was THIRTEEN

yourusername: you don't love me anymore? 😕

landonorris: i don't know why i always get in these arguments with you

user5: i love how george just instigates things for y/n lmao

user6: your boyfriend should always support your mess

liked by yourusername

georgerussell63

liked by lewishamilton, alexalbon and 1,209,458 others

tagged: yourusername

georgerussell63: fatherhood is a different beast

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user8: alright i am so confused

user9: there's no way y/n can actually be pregnant i saw her down at least three pornstar martinis in hospitality this weekend

alexalbon: this better be a joke or i'm gonna kick you so hard you get a free non-reversible vasectomy

yourusername: stop the violence!

alexalbon: THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR GLEE REFERENCES

yourusername: someone is channelling some serious sue vibes right now

georgerussell63: let it be known i like my reproductive systems the way they are

alexalbon: that's kind of the point of a threat, you aren't supposed to want it

yourusername: he likes threats if they come from the right person

alexalbon: i am about one more comment away from knocking down your hotel room door and throwing george from the balcony

yourusername: and deprive our child from a father... alex i expected better from you

alexalbon: that's it i'm on my way

georgerussell63: @mercedesamgf1 PLEASE PROTECT ME I AM PRECIOUS CARGO

user10: these bitches got me actually combing through tiktoks and hospitality menus to see if y/n was actually drinking

user11: i'm gonna be real angry if this is all a big joke

user12: i know kimi antonelli is young but this is NAWT the way to announce him for 2025

charles_leclerc: guys i need you to spell everything out i am confused

georgerussell63: no can do charles you gotta follow the breadcrumbs just like everyone else

yourusername: it's right there sharl

charles_leclerc: actually alex, wait, i'm coming with you these hoes are annoying me

landonorris: don't forget me

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, maxverstappen1 and 1,409,556 others

tagged: georgerussell63

yourusername: our baby is here!

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user15: A CAT?

user16: i just knew george russell would be a ragdoll girl

georgerussell63: they were right i AM a girl dad

yourusername: finally dilf status

georgerussell63: a title i do not take lightly

yourusername: i can confirm libido has gone UP since becoming parents!

landonorris: shut THE FUCK UP

yourusername: you'll understand in time lando

georgerussell63: you just found yourself at the bottom of the babysitting list

landonorris: i don't want to look after it

yourusername: IT? IT? HOW DARE YOU?

georgerussell63: she can hear you lando that's so disrespectful :(

landonorris: ??? i'm not saying sorry to a cat over instagram comment

georgerussell63: expect the same courtesy when i take you out first corner next weekend

user17: i fear that was not a threat but a promise from george

user18: it's kinda hot

liked by yourusername

alexalbon: NEW ALBON PETS LORE AND NONE OF YOU TOLD ME

yourusername: ella can't wait to meet the gang

alexalbon: no offence but ella is kinda a shit name

yourusername: short for mozzarella

alexalbon: i take it back

georgerussell63: cause she's the lil pearl of our life

alexalbon: i love her already

user19: so we went through all this tomfoolery for a cat? a cat called mozzarella?

user20: you have to agree it's iconic

alexalbon

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 889,304 others

tagged: georgerussell63 & yourusername

alexalbon: i knew @albon_pets would get george at some point

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user22: i love how alex became the chill guy again after it was revealed he was not yet an uncle

georgerussell63: hard on the yet

alexalbon: too soon george

user23: the albon pets signature of approval is a bigger sign that george is in the gamily than if he actually proposed to y/n

user24: they've got a baby now he's an albon

yourusername: horsey is going to kick off over having to share george with me and mozzie

albon_pets: bring it on - horsey

yourusername: alex i'm not arguing with you pretending to be horsey, this ain't roscoe and lewis

lewishamilton: rude

roscoelovescoco: meanie

yourusername: did you just call me mean as your dog?

lewishamilton: you were extra mean

yourusername: fine lets let mozzie and roscoe scrap it out at silverstone - she's got the sass of both me and george btw x

lewishamilton: stay AWAY FROM MY DOG

user25: the merc garage gonna be a whole petting zoo at silverstone i can't

user26: you wanna catch up with red bull? sell meet and greet tickets to the petting zoo

maxverstappen1: this is my official invitation to a play date with jimmy and sassy

yourusername: WE'LL BE THERE

maxverstappen1: is mozzarella civilised?

georgerussell63: of course my child has manners?

maxverstappen1: you crash into people all the time, i had to check

georgerussell63

liked by alexalbon, landonorris and 896,045 others

tagged: yourusername

georgerussell63: all of the family here for the home race

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user27: y/n wearing mozzarella in a baby harness i need to be put down

user28: that really is their child oh my

yourusername: make our baby proud georgie

georgerussell63: anything for you two xx

alexalbon: why do i never get these nice comments

yourusername: they're transmitted through our genes x

yourusername: also george more important 👍🏻

alexalbon: i'm literally your brother? your flesh and blood?

yourusername: george cuter

georgerussell63: can't argue with that

alexalbon: well of course he is this ain't alabama. (sorry logan)

logansargent: i'm from florida?

yourusername: even worse, my condolences

georgerussell63: can we get back to talking about how dashing i am?

yourusername: yes!

alexalbon: NO. SAY GOOD LUCK Y/N

yourusername: good luck y/n

alexalbon: what if i crash and you never said good luck, think about it y/n

yourusername: good luck alex (you're an asshole for weaponising the sport (and you being shit at it))

user29: i think i had about three strokes trying to follow this argument

user30: poor logan is just a victim of the albons at this point

landonorris: have a baby and forget about the rest of us, i see how it is

yourusername: you will never measure up to mozzie lando i hope you know that

georgerussell63: what y/n means is that i love my friends, but a child is a gift from god

landonorris: it's a cat. she can't even talk

yourusername: and yet she makes better points than you, makes you think

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, landonorris and 834,019 others

tagged: georgerussell63

yourusername: fatherhood looks good on you

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user31: mozzarella is so big already 🥹

user32: maybe i'm worse than them cause i'm attached to mozzie as well

georgerussell63: no one else i'd rather be cat parents to

yourusername: you're such a romantic

georgerussll63: such a pleasure to take this next step with the love of my life

yourusername: i love you more

georgerussell63: not possible

alexalbon: you being gross about mozzie was better than what ever the fuck this is

yourusername: @lilymunhe does he not treat you right?

lilymunhe: he's a romantic really, he's just exhausting the protective big brother act until george finally proposes

alexalbon: sue me

maxverstappen1: still waiting on the play date ...

yourusername: monaco?

maxverstappen1: done

yourusername: jimmy, sassy and ella will be like the charlie's angles reincarnated

georgerussell63: can't wait for you to see her IMPECCABLE manners

maxverstappen1: okay princess george

yourusername: hey only i can call george princess

maxverstappen1: you keep that to yourself

user33: disappointed that with all the tomfoolery around mozzie that there was no maternity photoshoots

yourusername: oh do not give me a challenge...

fin.

note: NEW SERIES ALERT? i'll create a masterlist after i post this. i hope you enjoyed, this one is more of a tame brother's best friend take but dw they can get more beefy and more sassy - send me any pairings you might like to see! thanks for reading x

[rottiens]

⊹ synopsis. . as your beloved husband, it is his duty to indulge you in your fantasies. even in the unspoken ones. ⊹ tags. . (18+), husband nanami x reader with female anatomy (no pronouns used), petnames (honey), suggestive, dirty talk, finger sucking, reader has a hands kink. divider creds: cafekitsune.

Discreetly you glance back, your eyebrows raise unconsciously and your heart does that unusual throbbing that you hadn't experienced in a long time in Kento's presence, at least since you got married. You didn't want to admit that married life had tempered a bit the passion of the early years, when your hands couldn't be still standing next to each other, when you struggled to control your restless gaze and burning cheeks because you had to share the same team for a mission with your boyfriend. On the other hand, Kento was always more reserved, more serious. When asked if you were dating, he would simply say it was no one's business, although his cheekbones would change color every time someone mentioned your name.

After you left school behind, graduated as sorcerers and began accepting special grade missions, Kento and you talked about your relationship and how you saw yourselves together for much longer, starting a family, growing plants together and perhaps enjoying a quieter hobby that didn't involve exorcising curses. The two of you considered joining a book club or visiting the countryside on weekends.

Then one day he dropped one of his knees to the ground and handed you the beautiful ring that now decorates your finger, physically sealing a union to which you were both long committed: it has been exactly four years and three months since the wedding that only close people and family members attended. Since then you have kept a low profile, you had accepted married life and the everyday life it brought with it, although that didn't mean you had stopped loving Kento like the first day —on the contrary—, it meant seeing him every day and extinguishing a little of that adolescent spark that once burned you from inside every time you spent more than three days away from each other.

However, since a couple of weeks that spark had come back to life hungrier than ever and it's not until now that you find out why.

The sound of the paper sliding under your husband's fingers is soothing to you. Kento does this almost every night: reading a book, sometimes even reading aloud to you until you fall asleep. His glasses rest on the tip of his nose, his bare chest rises and falls like the waves of the sea, and he's wearing gray pajama pants. You've watched this scene so many nights that you've learned to recognize the meaning when his brow furrows or when he pouts as he immerses himself in rich reading. At this moment, as he sometimes does, he gently caresses your calf, sending shivers along your limb, generating fluttering heartbeats in your chest and between your legs.

Kento turns another page and calls out to you, "Honey," without looking away from the book. The timbre of his voice draws you to him. "Are you okay?" he asks again, now watching you with wrinkles in his forehead that denote concern.

"I'm fine," you assure him without maintaining eye contact. "Can't I enjoy the sight of my handsome husband while he reads?" The word "husband" draws a smile on his face, causing the corners of his mouth to turn up. You only need to utter that one word to have him completely captivated.

"I'm almost done," he announces as he dives back into reading.

You gulp. It's his hands, you suddenly recognize. The realization hits you in the forehead. There's something in the way his thumb runs across the page, something in how his open hand holds the back of the book, in his thumb tapping the cover and then bringing it to his mouth to play with his lip. It all gets your bloodstream pumping adrenaline.

The thought makes you run away from the scene like a teenager in love. At first you were in total denial, hands? How could you tell him that his hands turned you on, wouldn't that be weird? However as the days go by you find it harder to control it and make it go unnoticed, you find yourself looking at them when Kento takes your hand to go outside, when he holds the steering wheel of the car, you find yourself squeezing your legs when his fingers tighten around the watering can to water the plants and the worst of all, when he cooks.

Now, as he finishes decorating the cake, he was wearing those black jeans that were your favorite, along with a brown shirt that had the first two buttons open, leaving part of his collar exposed. The sleeves of the shirt were rolled up to his elbows. You couldn't help but stare at him in fascination, feeling the saliva pool in your mouth.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" The question sneaks in among your swarm of thoughts, and you stop yourself from watching him work to stare into his eyes that don't look at you.

"I know," you reply simply, which elicits a purr of approval from him.

"Want to try?" He abruptly changes the subject, but still, encouraged, you nod your head. With his index finger and thumb, Kento pinches a small piece of cake and brings it up to your mouth. You stretch your neck to catch his fingers, and the taste of vanilla and cream glides over your tongue. Even after swallowing Kento doesn't withdraw his fingers, and you don't move either.

The playful thumb, still with traces of cream, reaches just beyond your lips to meet your tongue. Your eyes widen as red alarms go off in your mind and your thighs press against each other.

"My hands, hm?" it catches you in mid-act, unable to move, your body turning to stone in the middle of the kitchen. "What's so special about them?"

"I-I…"

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Kento purrs as he pushes a little further, the pad of his thumb massaging your tongue in small circles spreading the sweet taste on it. "Suck it, I know this is what's been filling your mind." And you do, closing your eyes at his command, wrapping your fingers around his wrist as Kento begins to fuck your mouth. "I can't believe you didn't comment to me about this little kink of yours, it offends me even." You groan, unable to look him in the eye, succumbed to the feeling of fighting for your dignity or surrendering to pleasure. "Maybe you need me massaging your thighs, maybe you want them around your neck… playing with your tits or maybe I need to make you watch my thick fingers go in and out of you, my thick veins standing out in my hands as I pump my fingers inside that wet pussy." You whimper, Kento laughs. "I guess I'll have to cancel my dinner tonight, I need to get each and every thought you've had with my hands out of that pretty head of yours while you comment on what it is you like so much about them."

[octoberautumnbox]

I Got All I Need

Le Sserafim Kim Chaewon (ft. Soloist Jo Yuri & Male Reader)

Categories/warnings: smut, phone sex, masturbation, voyeurism i think, anal, abuse, rough sex, like really really rough sex (kinda)

Word count: 1.6k

a/n: wrote on a whim lol no proofread no beta im sorry anways--

Chaewon lay bored in her bed, having exhausted her SNS feeds and Watch Later playlist. Her members sent all manner of pictures with their families and other friends in the groupchat, and honestly, genuinely, Chaewon was happy for them! And just a teeny bit envious, that's all, cross her heart and hope to die.

Her phone read 6:06 pm, and on her first long weekend off in the year, she had nothing to do. She was getting desperate for some fun. She opened her contacts app and punched in a random number.

"Ah, sorry, Chaewon-ssi," the voice on the other end of the line admitted, "Yena won't be back in Korea until next Friday. I'll let her know you called."

"Hi, this is Eunbi! I can't come to the phone right now. Please leave me a message and I'll get back to you in a jiffy!" Of course she uses an answering machine, Chaewon thought.

"Hi, Unnie!" Chaewon was overjoyed! "Hey Minmin, I was just curious if you were down to eat--" The sound of a bell rang loud in the other side of the phone call. "Oops, I'm really really sorry Unnie. Gotta get back now. Long night ahead of us, they're even killing my character again today! See you soon!"

Looking to her closet, Chaewon's mind was half-set to just put on a warm coat and go out alone. That's a thing people do nowadays, right? Go out and eat by themselves?

Sighing, she went for one last-ditch effort. She knows she won't pick up. She knows that even if she does, she wouldn't want to come out. She knows that if she wants to come out, it'll be shabu-shabu and sitting around by the Han River. "Oh well," Chaewon resigned, "At least I won't be alone."

She scrolled down her contacts and found her name. Tap, tap, tap, and the ringing started. One ring, two, three, and four. Chaewon expected this, so much so that she's not even disappointed.

"H-hello?" Chaewon fought back a gasp! "Hey, hi Yuri! I was going to go out for a bite--"

"Ah, fuck..." Silence filled the phone line for a good few seconds before Yuri's end broke it again. "Shit, th-that's really good."

"Yuri?" "Ffffuck yes, just like that..." Disbelief filled Chaewon's mind. "Sorry," Yuri struggled to whisper, "wh-who is this?"

"It's... It's Chaewo-" "Fuck! Shit, shit, shit, please..."

Chaewon had half a mind to just drop the call then and there, and she should, right? This is one of her best friends in the world. Busy, as they say, with something important.

"Unnie, I'm so sorry, I just have the thickest cock ripping my asshole apart right now, ahhh, oh fuck, OH FUCK!"

Although, as much as Chaewon wants to deny it, dropping the call was out of the question now. She had to know just what exactly was going on.

"Are you okay, Yuri? Do... you need me to call someone?"

"Haahhhhh... Ahh, AHHHH!" Yuri's scream ripped through the phone line, and Chaewon couldn't keep her own free hand from straying anymore.

"Unnie, I... I need y-you... to keep a... a secret," It was hard for Chaewon to decipher what her friend was saying, between every moan and grunt littered across her speech. She couldn't resist, though, that she was paying more attention to them than whatever words could be spilling out of Yuri's mouth.

"I'm... with my... with my boyfriend. He's p-pounding my ass right now..." Chaewon was groping her own ass at that moment, and she could feel herself getting moist.

She heard whispering at the other end. Yuri's voice rang clearer, even if a bit shakier. "He says... if I end the call... he'll tie me up and, and leave me," Yuri's breaths are heavy and laced with exhaustion, "un-until morning. So I'm sorry, but I can't... Mmmmff..."

Chaewon couldn't believe she was getting hot to the sound of her friend getting fucked hard. There was no way pure, sweet, innocent Yuri was like this, right? Absolutely impossible.

And yet, she found her own hand slipping under her panties. She felt her smooth pussy lips, how they were slick against her fingers, and how her insides were starting to burn up.

"Unnie... he's making me tell you..." Chaewon was all ears now, desperate for more.

"I have six inches of cock up my ass... and three ffffingers... in my soaking cunt." Three wouldn't fit, Chaewon thought, so she settled for two inside herself. Her pussy lips parted for them, and Chaewon let out a tiny "mmmh."

"He... he's rubbing my clit, and... AHHH--" Chaewon was palming her own clit as her fingers shoved themselves slowly in and out of her pussy, letting more of her juices out and onto her panties.

"... and he's s-slapping and pinching it, Unnie..." Frustrated and in heat, Chaewon frantically stripped and kicked away both her shorts and panties; they were ruined anyway. She lay comfortably back onto her bed and spread her legs, in prime position for her own missionary fucking, with regrettably nothing more than her left hand.

"And Unnie..." Her former member's deep and heavy breaths occupied the phone line. "P-please... don't let this... change how you see me... God, please, no..."

Chaewon pumped her fingers in and out of her pussy hard now. Her juices were falling all over her bedsheets, and the scent of her sex reaching her nose only spurred her on.

"Yuri... Tell me."

"He... he creampied me, Unnie..." Suddenly, Chaewon's hips lifted off the bed momentarily as she heard this. Her fingers found a good spot as she returned to the bed, and from then on strove to hit it again and again and again.

"More, Yuri-yah... please..." She couldn't hide it anymore, Chaewon was moaning just as loudly now as her beloved friend.

"Th-three times, Unnie... in my ass..." Chaewon's eyes shut tight as her brain locked onto what was being said. "And... six... I think, in my... my pussy... oh- OH GOD!"

Chaewon started grinding against her palm, forcing more pleasure through her crotch. She humped against the air, lifting and dropping her hips in a needy bid for her sweet release.

"FUCK! Unnie, I can't remember-- Shhhhhit, shitshitshitshit... How- how many times he came in my cunt- AHHHH!"

She could hear it so much better now, how her friend's ass slapped against her boyfriend's waist. Yuri's moans rang louder still, pushing her phone's speaker to its limit.

"Unnie, holy fuck, Unnie... Please... don't..." Yuri collected herself for a moment before starting again. "He... he has my-my nipples in clamps, too... It hurts so good, Chaewon-unnie, shit... everything is so good..."

Chaewon struggled against her top, and managed to get all of it up past her chest and under her neck. Her breasts bounced out from under her bra and relaxed. She pinched and squeezed her left nipple as hard as she could, feeling the nub stiffen against her fingertips.

"And I came, Unnie..." Her fingers returned to pleasuring her now-leaking pussy. Chaewon rubbed around her lips to collect more of her slick, before shoving now three of her fingers inside her.

"I came so... so many times. F-fifteen... before I- ahhh- lost c-count." Chaewon found her pace and rhythm again. She pistoned her fingers into and out of her sex as her moans reached the other end of the line too.

"Fuck, Yuri-yah, that sounds so fucking good... I'm close... I'm so close!"

"He's forcing me t-to tell you, Unnie, ahhhhh..."

Chaewon shut her eyes again, wishing, imagining it was her getting the railing of her life. Only now did she realize how big the wet spot on her bed between her legs was.

"I'm... Unnie, I'm... his slut. I'm his ffffuuuckdoll..."

Chaewon was straining herself now, her arm muscles burning with overexertion. She felt her cunt leak so much of her sex all over her hand. She wildly fingered her g-spot, praying that her climax comes soon.

"I'm his pleasure girl, Unnie," Chaewon heard her friend's voice break with sobs between words and moans. "I'm his slutty, hhhorny, p-personal o-onahole..."

At this point, Chaewon was sobbing too. Why couldn't she have a boyfriend like that? Why can't she be the one getting sexually taken advantage of? She even bet she could make Yuri's boyfriend feel worlds better than Yuri ever could.

"I'm his... I'm his slutty fucking cumdump, Unnie! He fucks me raw and creampies my cunt- AHHHHH- and I love when he fills my womb up so much it leaks out of my abused pussy!"

A scream dragged itself across Chaewon's throat, and she made sure both Yuri and her boyfriend heard. Chaewon's arm burned hotter with overfatigue as she was nearly breaking her own pussy with how hard she was pumping. "Fuck, Yuri! Please! I need to cum!"

"Fuck, Unnie, me too! Shit, Unnie, I have to tell you..."

Tears streamed down Chaewon's cheeks now, her crotch and thighs soaked with her slick. She's already lost control of herself and fully gave in to her body's desires, wailing cries and moans that she couldn't even recognize as her own anymore.

"I'm not safe, Unnie! I'm so fucking f-fertile! He's going to make me pregnant! H-he's put- FUCKING SHIT, PLEASE DADDY- He's putting a fucking baby in my womb!!! AAAHHHHHHH!"

"FFFFUCK, YURI! HOLY FUCK I'M CUMMING SO MUCH!!!"

Chaewon's cum sprayed out of her sore cunt in intense streams. Chaewon forcefully pulled her fingers out as her hips convulsed violently, wringing out every last drop of her climax. She kept squirting for what felt like ages, and with every spurt of her girlcum she grew less and less alert.

Her eyes were heavy, and her ears were failing her. Her hands dropped to the sides, as did her waist onto the mattress as her climax overwhelmingly resolved. She grew less and less aware of her heart beating out of her chest, and, finally, passed out naked on her cum-soaked bed.

a/n: lmao jesus christ anyways this wasn't the incest smut i was talking abt that's still in the works

[heartsfromia]

knight in shining armor — j. wonwoo

pairing: non-idol! wonwoo x f!reader

word count: 7,350

genre: fluff, angst, mild crack, college setting

warnings: cheating (not wonwoo tho our boy is sweet, it's reader's shitty ex), curse words, implicit violence (black eyes, cuts on lips mentioned)

author's notes: y'all pray that one day i have the energy to proofread my works ;_____; BRO I STG I WORKED ON THIS FOR OVER THREE MONTHS AND IDK HOW IT GOT SOOO LONG T___________T

“Hey, I’m planning on finishing my paper for International Law in Holly’s, come with me?”

With your hands intertwined with your boyfriend, Hanwoo, the two of you walked towards the parking lot by your university, just having finished a class together. You were hoping to spend some time together since Hanwoo had been preoccupied with the major association he’s a member in, as the collegial organization is holding its elections in the next week and he had been approached to help out as a committee member. Since the two of you have the same classes together, and the paper was due next Monday (it being a Thursday now), you thought you could get, at least the introduction down, while having some quality time in the 24 hour café with your boyfriend of six months.

“We’ll be there all night and you can distract me from my paper and I will do the same to you, and then we can down a ton of caffeine before passing out on the bean bags they have,” you tried to convince him, leaning into his side as you two approached his car. “And then we can go home and talk about how we should’ve finished our paper, plan another night in Holly’s and do it all over again!”

“Although that does sound tempting,” Hanwoo began, releasing your hand to reach for the car keys and unlocked the doors. He leaned down to be eye-level with you, as his hand reached for the door handle of the passenger seat, he uttered, “But, I have a meeting later tonight.” Pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, he pulled your door open and stepped aside enter the car. A pout found its way to your lips, pulling your favorite move to get what you want, but he wasn’t budging and only nodded his head for you to climb in.

“What meeting?” You asked once he climbed into the driver’s seat, pulling the car out of the parking lot and on your way to your house to drop you off.

“The election, since Monday evening will be the debate between president and vice president candidates, so we need to discuss the topics of the debate, all the technical stuff tonight,” he explained, “we’re planning on pushing a lot we need done between today and tomorrow, so we can have the weekends free and do finishing touches on Monday.”

“Ahh, being Event Organizer really isn’t easy… so you’ll be busy today, and tomorrow?” He only nodded, briefly sending a small smile her direction. “Alright, then, I’ll just see if Wonwoo is free tonight.”

Hanwoo threw his head back, asking, “Isn’t Wonwoo a Computer Science major?”

“Yeah, but he’s really good at research so I think he can help.” Hanwoo didn’t bother asking more, turning the music up to let it fill the silence as you arrived by the driveway of your house. “Good luck on your paper, yeah? Don’t drink too much coffee.”

“No promises,” you responded before kissing his cheek and climbing out his car. You waved him off, watching as the car disappeared in the distance before turning to head inside and up to your room just left of the entryway. Tossing your bag on your chair, you flopped on to your bed, too mentally exhausted from the three lectures today to even change your clothes, feeling sleep begin to fog your head. You were on the edge of dreamland when you heard a clink, then a few seconds later another one, and then another one, and it seemed to be never ending before you pulled yourself out of your drowsiness and headed to your window—which just so happened to be adjacent to your next door neighbor, Wonwoo’s window.

“You seriously need to reconsider throwing rocks at my window before you shatter it, Wonwoo.” Your neighbor only chuckled, so you took this as an opportunity. “Hey, can you come with to Holly’s? I’m planning to stay overnight there.”

“What for?”

“I’m holding an executive meeting for us to discuss a ten-step plan to overthrow our government,” you grinned, and he pondered, tapping his chin lightly before shaking his head.

“I can’t overthrow the government yet, I have a quiz tomorrow.”

You rolled your eyes, a soft laugh escaping your lips. You could always count Wonwoo to go along with your poor attempts at sarcasm. “I have a paper to work on and I don’t want to be alone.”

“Where’s your boyfriend? What’s his name? Yohan?”

“So close! It’s Hanwoo,” you retorted with a deadpan as you reminded him of your boyfriend’s name. Wonwoo hasn’t been discreet in his distaste towards your boyfriend—it’s been six months since he asked you out, and it’s been six months of Wonwoo never remembering his name. “He has a meeting today since the upcoming election debate for my major’s organization.”

“Is he running or…?” Wonwoo asked, despite his lack of interest with the topic.

“No, he’s the EO, and will be occupied for the next couple of days.”

“Aah, so I’m a back-up to you? Got it.” You knew he was being sarcastic, it was a running joke between the two of you since splitting when choosing college majors—you had done the same when he asked you to accompany him to watch a movie he really wanted to see, only to find out he came to you because friends from his major were busy.

“Do you want to come with me or not?” You asked again, “you don’t need to if you don’t want to.”

“What time?” Wonwoo asked, not hesitating. “Eomma is making dinner tonight, and asked me to ask you to join in case your parents are working late.”

You turn briefly, listening in to your parent’s room across from yours and can hear the muffle conversation behind the walls. “I think they’re home, but knowing my dad, he won’t be cooking so I think all three of us can head over to your place for dinner?”

“Sure, I’ll tell Eomma,” Wonwoo informed, “so after dinner then, we can go? Did you ask your parents for permission to spend the night working on the assignment.”

Dread immediately washed over you, colour draining from your face and to your feet as you remembered you haven’t asked permission from your parents, especially your dad who isn’t fond of you working long hours for an assignment you could’ve finished from when it was assigned. Force habit, dad, it’s not my fault you raised a chronic procrastinator, you couldn’t help but think. An innocent chuckle left your lips as you pulled your signature puppy-dog eyes to Wonwoo, who—without you having to utter a single word—understood what you were doing.

He heaved a heavy sigh, closing his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, I’ll ask them.”

“You are the best! Did you know that you’re the best person I’ve ever met? You’re absolutely awesome, smart and so, so, so kind, Wonwoo!” You blew a kiss in his direction, like how you watched Sunjae in Lovely Runner do so. “Love you!”

He waved your exaggerated gestures off, ignoring the heat forming in his cheeks and spreading to his ears, as he turned away, yelling back at you, “Yeah, yeah, just hurry up, I want to get this over with.”

“When do you think International Humanitarian Law is applicable?” You turned to Wonwoo after reading (re: skimming) a journal regarding the topic for your paper. Despite having only been studying the material for about twenty minutes, you could feel yourself losing it by the second. You didn’t hate International Law, but you always thought that the professor assigned too much reading, and is so strict about the entire paper itself—specifically using APA style, it has to only be footnotes (no in-line citations, despite that being the easiest in your opinion and you always preferred Chicago over any other reference style).

Oh, and the International Law professor is biased and lowkey a bitch.

So, being reluctant to work on an assignment given by your major’s most disliked professor wasn’t a priority even with the deadline closing in.

“During world conflicts?” You and Wonwoo stared at each other briefly, before you nodded, “That is true.” Wonwoo stifled a laugh. Seeing you look so drained and empty every single time you worked on an assignment, never failed to make him laugh. He enjoyed accompanying you, and despite the different majors and study programs you both have, he always tried to make sure he is more help than company. Even though you never really wanted to help you work on the assignment, knowing he has his own to deal with as a Computer Science major, but he’s well aware of your habits that even if the due date is Monday and you are working on it right now, you won’t completely finish it until Sunday, if not with Wonwoo’s aid.

“What’s the paper about?”

“The application of International Humanitarian Law in a specific study case,” you responded, tone flat. The more you talked about it, the more your soul was being sucked into the void. “I chose the Femicides in El Salvador.”

“Alright.” Was all Wonwoo said before he opened Google Scholar and began his own little research.

“Wonwoo, you don’t have to—”

“Y/N?” Cut off mid-sentence, you and Wonwoo turned to find Joy approaching your table, her hair tied and a lanyard around her neck, she must’ve just gotten back from campus.

“Joy? Hi, what are you doing here?” You smiled, internally sighing in relief because you had a reason to not look at the journal you were reading of femicide reports in the past decade.

“I just came back from an internal meeting with the EO’s for the upcoming debate,” Joy responded, noticing Wonwoo and waving at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m working on Michelle’s paper,” you answered, exaggerating the slouch in your shoulders and pout in your lips. You then realized, sitting up straight, head cocked to the side with your brows furrowed. “Wait, you’re an EO for the debate?”

Joy pulled a chair to sit across from you, resting her arms on the table and nodded.

“So you were with Hanwoo?”

It was her turn to furrow her brows. “Your boyfriend?” You nodded, and she shook her head. “No I wasn’t.”

“What? But he told me he was having a meeting with the EO’s for the debate, maybe you didn’t see them?”

The crease between your friend’s brow only deepened. “Y/N, the EO’s are only four people, not including the PIC—I’ve also met them all, and Hanwoo isn’t a part of us.”

“That’s weird,” you muttered. Did your boyfriend lie?

“Maybe he got his position switched? Maybe he’s not an EO? You could try asking tomorrow,” Joy tried to reason, and you only nodded. Hanwoo had been telling you that he was an EO for the past couple of weeks, ever since the announcement of election was released for the major association. He explained to you in great detail what the position would entail, and well, frankly speaking, you trusted him. It tugged at your chest at the possibility he might’ve lied to you.

And Wonwoo can see it. The deep glare in your eyes as you stared at the article you were reading, but you weren’t actually reading the reports from representatives of the El Salvadoran government, instead you were reading into the situation with your boyfriend. Gears were turning in your head, making connections, coming up with excuses as to why he had chosen to lie to you about something as trifling as his position in a collegial committee. He could tell that no matter how many paragraphs you read, how many relative research articles you pulled up from the internet, nothing will allow you to progress in your paper until the nagging feeling of your fibbing boyfriend is at ease.

“Y/N, do you want to head back home, call it a night?” Wonwoo asked, before quickly raising his phone, “My brother just sent me a text, that he needs the car early tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, yeah sure, let me just pay—”

“You pack up, I’ll pay for our food.”

You knew that he knew. Your lips pressed into a tight smile, “Thanks, Won.” He nodded, returning your smile before heading to the counter.

“Should we continue tomorrow night, then?” Joy asked. You nodded. “Sure,” then added, “depends though.”

On whether or not your boyfriend is lying.

“Wonwoo, do you have notes from Beom’s class? Last weeks’?” Seungcheol sat across from Wonwoo in the cafeteria, picking up a fry from Wonwoo’s plate and tossing it into his mouth. Wonwoo merely stared at his friend, unamused by his lack of manners, causing Seungcheol to chuckle.

“You know I do, Cheol, but why should I give it to you?” Wonwoo asked, his baritone voice holding a twinge of sarcasm, still upset by Seungcheol’s unwarranted act of property theft.

“Who says I want them?” Seungcheol turns away, flustered that Wonwoo caught on too quickly to his motive.

Wonwoo shrugs, and continues eating his lunch. “Alright then.”

“Can you email them to me?” An innocent, close-lipped smile etched across Seungcheol’s face, his dimple deepening as he clasped his hands together, pulling the same trick as Y/N usually does to get what they want.

“Stop that, I already get enough of puppy-eyes from Y/N,” grunted Wonwoo, rolling his eyes. “I’ll send them tonight, just send me a reminder.”

“Great, thanks, man.” Wonwoo expected him to leave, allowing for Wonwoo to spend the rest of his lunch alone before he heads to his next class, but Seungcheol stayed put, eyes on his phone. Not feeling like making any conversation, Wonwoo shrugged it off and continued eating. That is, until Seungcheol spoke up again, asking, “Hey, doesn’t Y/N have a boyfriend?”

Wonwoo couldn’t help the heat that rose at the back of his neck. “Yeah, why?”

“Isn’t it that Hanwoo guy?” Wonwoo nodded, but Seungcheol only looked even more perplexed. “They’re still going out?”

“Yeah…” Wonwoo confirmed, but the question only made his curiosity grow. Why did Seungcheol look so surprised? “Why?”

“It’s just… I mean, if you say they’re still together then it might not be- I must’ve made a mistake,” Seungcheol tried to change the subject but Wonwoo wasn’t going to let him do so.

“Tell me what you’re talking about or you won’t get Beom’s notes,” Wonwoo threatened, earning a look of genuine offense from Seungcheol, whom briefly rose a brow, a bit unconvinced. “I’m serious, Cheol.”

“Ass,” he muttered, before shaking his head, “Nah, it’s just… last night I saw a guy pick up my neighbor from across the courtyard, and I thought he looked a lot like Hanwoo.” Wonwoo’s eyebrow rose in suspicion, Seungcheol spotting it. “But if you say they’re still going out, then it must’ve been someone else.”

“What do you mean?”

“Any guy would be stupid to cheat on Y/N, especially since she’s your best friend and all.”

That only made him more confused. “Why would you say that?”

“It’s not like you’d let anyone hurt her, Won,” Seungcheol retorted, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world (it was), “and Hanwoo would be a huge dumbass if he even thought of cheating on her.”

Even though Seungcheol was right, Wonwoo wasn’t convinced—Hanwoo had a meeting last night when they were at Holly’s but Joy confirmed that he wasn’t even a part of the EO committee.

“Are you sure it wasn’t him?” He tried to make sure.

“I mean, it was dark and I wasn’t wearing my glasses so it was a bit blurry—all-in-all I would say 50%, either he was or he wasn’t,” Seungcheol explained, being no help to Wonwoo’s growing suspicion of your boyfriend.

“I’ve gotta go,” Wonwoo uttered, standing and packing his things, tossing his backpack over his shoulder.

“Where are you go- class is that way!” Wonwoo paid no mind to his friend as he continued walking towards the parking lot. However, he could hear Seungcheol as he was almost out of earshot, “Y/N, your knight in shining armor is on his way.”

The corner of Wonwoo’s lips quirked up. “I’m not sending the notes then!”

“Oh, come on, man!”

He couldn’t wait any longer. Suspicions and of course, anger, only grew the more steps he took towards his car, knowing the destination was you. If what Seungcheol said is true and he did, in fact, see Hanwoo with another girl, then that means he’s openly seeing someone else behind your back.

His hand reached for his phone, sparing quick glances between the screen and where he was walking as his fingers swiped for your contact, immediately dialing. Pressing the phone to his ear, he let his other hand pull out his car keys and unlock the door just as the line started ringing.

You picked up after two rings.

“Wonwoo? What’s with the sudden phone call?”

“Where are you?” He waited in the front seat, keys dangling from the ignition. Your answer would decide whether he starts the car or not.

“In the cafeteria near the engineering majors, why?”

“Are you with Hanwoo?” You were taken aback by his question, not because of what he asked, but by the fact that he got your boyfriend’s name right.

“Yeah, I am… Why?”

His shoulders sunk with your confirmation. “Just… just checking, sorry to bother you guys.” You muttered something that he didn’t catch before he hung up, exhaling a heavy sigh. Maybe it was paranoia. He had known you since you both were in middle school, of course he was protective over you, like every friend out there, he never wants you to get hurt.

Little did he know that as you put down your phone, a grimace had taken over your features as you looked at Joy.

“What did Wonwoo ask?”

You wanted to tell her the truth, but even you couldn’t wrap your head around the obvious that was happening. Wonwoo thinks you’re with Hanwoo, but you’re not and Joy’s tip about your boyfriend never having been involved in the election committee—you knew, and if your best friend had asked and even remembered Hanwoo’s name, then that must mean he knows, too.

“If I was with you,” you answered before her suspicion grew. “He wanted to check if I was up for lunch with him, but I’m with you already.”

“Ah… I think it’s good that he isn’t here,” Joy prefaced, pulling her phone out. “Do you remember I use to be a student supervisor for our major’s freshman camp?”

“Yeah, why?”

“So, I follow most of the kids that were in my group, right? And I was scrolling through my Instagram stories when you were buying lunch, and then—“ Joy scrolled through the following list of her account, stopping her explanation as she found who she was looking for. “—I think it’s better if you see for yourself.”

She slid her phone face-up to you, an Instagram story of a junior you didn’t know of was opened. The picture wasn’t revealing much of anything that seemed of significance to you, just a photo of her holding hands with a guy and it was posted in her Close Friends—most likely an attempt at soft-launching her boyfriend.

For a moment you were confused, then you spotted it—the username. It was Hanwoo's Instagram account. Dread grew at the back of your head as your brain couldn't grasp on to this fact, even exiting out of the story and searching for his username, hoping it was one letter off and your suspicions would be wrong, but unfortunately, that wasn’t the case and both the username in the girl’s post and his username were the same.

“I’m sorry, Y/N…” Joy uttered, in hopes to break the silence and tension that was building, but it was to no avail. Your throat tightened, and tears burned in your eyes, but you knew they weren’t from sadness, or heartbreak even, you were furious.

The audacity this piece of shit has to think he can cheat on me? You locked Joy’s phone, sliding it back to her before picking up your things and standing from the table.

“Where are you going?” Her eyes were filled with genuine concern, worried that you were a ticking time bomb, just waiting to blow up at the worse time.

You sent her a reassuring smile, and shrugged. “Where else? To plan my revenge on him, of course.”

Wonwoo thought he was hearing things. As he paused his game, he waited and listened for a moment before shrugging, chalking it off to probably a feature in the game he never noticed.

Clink!

That couldn’t have been a feature in the game, he was breaking wood—a clinking sound against glass doesn’t seem like something you’d hear while hitting a tree repeatedly in Minecraft.

He removed his earphones this time, waiting for the sound again, and when he did, he stood and walked to his window, finding you standing outside his window.

“Finally, oh my God!” you groaned, rolling your eyes. “Do you know how many pebbles I had to look for to throw at your window?”

Wonwoo’s eyebrows bunched together as he stared at you dumbfounded. “Why did you need to throw pebbles, we’re ground level. You could’ve just knocked.”

“That wouldn’t be so romantic, now would it?”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he heaved a heavy sigh. “You’ve got to stop sneaking around like this, though, people are going to think you’re a burglar.”

“Whatever, Won,” you waved him off. “I need your help.”

“With what?”

“I—“ You paused. The fact that Hanwoo is actively cheating on you, probably even at this very moment, felt almost surreal to you, but ever since Joy showed you the picture, you’ve (to some extent) came to terms with it—there were signs after all, signs you chose to ignore or were so subtle, they flew over your head. However, coming to the realization that you’ve been cheated on felt easier than to utter it out loud—it felt more like a confirmation, that once the words were spoken out into the universe, it confirmed you were too blind in love to see the fact that he played you like a violin.

And it felt worse to admit to Wonwoo that his suspicions of your boyfr— ex-boyfriend being a douchebag were right.

“I need your help to trash Hanwoo’s car tonight, he’s at a friend’s house and left his car by his apartment.” Might as well hold off telling the truth until after you’ve released your anger.

Wonwoo could see you were holding something back, and by your proposition, making a guess as to why you did so, was easy.

“I’m not going to ask, but I will need you to explain later.” You subconsciously thanked him for not asking for a reason to your borderline act of vandalism. “Come around to the garage, I think I have a baseball bat from when I played little league.”

Ignoring the last bit of Wonwoo’s childhood anecdote, you watched as he left his room before taking the route to circle towards the front of his house where the garage was. You heard a lock turn and a bar slide before door opened, revealing Wonwoo, nodding his head to follow him.

“Do you, like, a Swiss Army knife or something sharp?”

“I think my dad has one his tool box, let me check,” he says, then points to shelf behind the car. “You can check there for the baseball bat.”

“Alright.”

Once the equipments were prepared—consisting of Wonwoo’s baseball ball, his dad’s Swiss Army knife, and your dad’s spray paint from one of his furniture restoration projects—you were all set to get back at Hanwoo. You both tossed them into the back of his car, climbing in and Wonwoo started up for Hanwoo’s apartment.

“And how do you know he left his car?” Wonwoo asked after three minutes of complete silence (AUX cord was broken and nothing that could fit a drive to vandalize your ex’s car was on the radio).

“Because I texted him earlier, asking if he could drive me to the store because there was a book I needed to get, and he explained to me that he was at a friend’s house and left his car,” you explained, your tone flat throughout as you mindlessly played with the zipper of your hoodie.

“And you’re sure he’s with friends?” He asked, his tone cautious, as he watched you freeze briefly.

You weren’t sure. Instead of admitting that, you chuckled, “He wouldn’t be with his girlfriend without a car.”

Despite your efforts at breaking the ice, Wonwoo wasn’t able to laugh at your joke, and only you could muster a dry chuckle before leaning back, turning to face the window.

You seemed to float throughout—as if watching yourself in a third person point of view, almost numb to the fact that you were on your way to ruin your ex’s car. It wasn’t that you were in denial that he is cheating on you, you refused to believe it was happening to you. You always felt that you were doing so much, showing him so much love, prioritizing him when he needed, never doubting that you felt the same way for you.

What did I do wrong? What about me wasn’t enough?

You hated those thoughts that began flooding your head. You hated those doubts. You hated that because of what he did, you’re blaming yourself—making it seem that you were the one that wasn’t doing enough.

“Y/N?” Wonwoo’s baritone voice pulled you out of your self-loathing. “We’re here.”

“Oh, you remembered the way,” you finally took note of him never asking you directions throughout the drive.

“Unfortunately.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his snide comment. Looking out to his side of the window, you see Hanwoo’s white range rover. You knew he cherished it—making sure to get the oil changed routinely, weekly car washes and having it waxed monthly. In retrospect, he probably loved the car more than he did you.

Maybe destroying he loved could make you feel less shitty.

“Let’s go—“ Before you could climb out, Wonwoo grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Y/N?”

Again, the truth choked you. As you stared at Wonwoo, the concern laced all over his features, it felt the question should’ve triggered a flood gate to open, but alas, you persist. I need to not use poor humor as a coping mechanism. You cocked your head to the side, the corner of your lips lifted. “Why? I honestly thought you’d be the most excited of us to trash his car, Won?”

Of course, being your best friend since middle school, he saw right through your façade.

His hand moved from your wrist to clasp your hands, wrapping his fingers around yours. “Just promise you’ll talk to me, yeah?”

The bile rose, once again, urging you to cough out the truth. Knowing well enough you wouldn’t be able to utter anything without your words breaking, you nodded and sent a stiff smile.

As you stood near Hanwoo’s car, looking through the window of his vehicle, memories of the two of you seated side-by-side there came flooding in. How when you would go to a drive-thru for late night snack runs, the way you reached over the console with a fry and feeding it to him as his eyes focused on the road. When you’d pull over into a parking lot, your legs stretched over to rest over his lap as the two of you talked about everything and nothing at all, or when he would purposely make wrong turns just so you would spend more time with each other when he was supposed to drop you home.

Moments that you held so close to your heart, now worth nothing in a blink of an eye.

You squeezed your eyes shut, urging the tears to fall back and return to their sockets, inhaling a deep breath and pushing it out almost immediately as you flipped the knife to one of its sharpest options and pressing the point to the driver’s door. There’s no backing out now. You let the knife drag itself across the paint, a ragged line following your hand as you made your lap around his car.

Now, there really wasn’t going back now.

Before you could hold yourself back, your arm extended back and punctured one of the tyres—then one became two, and then three. Air spewing out of three of the tyres filled the tension around you, and you found yourself breathless. Breathless because you were angry. Breathless because you were hurt. The tears had escaped, creating warm trails down your cheeks.

“Give me the bat,” you urged, glaring at him with bloodshot eyes and wet cheeks.

“Y/N—“

“Wonwoo,” you pressed, “it’s either you give me the bat, or you go home—I’m going to do this whether you agree with it or not.”

Wonwoo shouldn’t even be against what you’re doing right now. He’s obviously on your side when it comes to this, Hanwoo deserves getting his car destroyed for hurting, manipulating and thinking he could go behind your back this way. However, the more logical and law-abiding side of him is reluctant—especially since you’ve already slashed his tyres and ruined the paintwork, so breaking the windows seemed to cross the line.

“If we get arrested, just tell them I did it, alright?” Wonwoo uttered, handing you the bat and taking the knife with him. You smiled for the first time tonight, a genuine smile that reached your eyes as he said that. He then added, “I’ll get the spray paint—you do your thing.”

And after a bashed in windshield, a very poorly written “FUCKING CHEATER” was spray painted on all sides of the car and on the hood. You and Wonwoo drove away from the scene of the crime, driving to a nearest convenient store where Wonwoo hopped out, buying instant ramen, drinks and snacks, deciding to make a last-minute picnic in his car because in his words: “Vandalism works up an appetite.”

“They didn’t have the carbonara one, so I got you cheese.” Wonwoo returned in less than ten minutes, the noodles already boiled, only needing the seasonings. You smiled at him, mumbling a thanks as you took the cup noodles from him, tearing the seasoning and busying yourself with stirring, and continuously stirring, your eyes dazed off at the curly noodles as they spun in a faint orange mix.

“Y/N, I’m sure your noodles are well stirred,” Wonwoo commented, hoping to divert your attention. The leather beneath him squeaked as he adjusted his position, leaning his back against the door as he folded his knee under him, fully facing you at this point.

He called, “Hey.”

You lifted your head to meet his eyes, and immediately, Wonwoo straightened up, his jaws clenched and shoulders tensed. Tear stricken cheeks, bloodshot eyes and everso present frown evident in between your eyebrows and downturned lips.

“Y/N…” Wonwoo took the noodles from your hands, placing it on the dashboard and pulling you by the wrists, engulfing you into his arms, then there goes the floodgates—the emotions you locked away throughout the evening, released in that very second your face was against his shoulder.

While you were bawling, grieving the relationship that reigned to be good to be true, Wonwoo was hatching up his own revenge plan on the piece of shit.

The incessant ringing of your phone pulled you out of your slumber, and you knew for a fact it wasn’t your alarm, because one; you snoozed that ten times already, and two; it wasn’t your usual Radar tone.

Sliding the screen with one eye open, you placed it by your ear without seeing who it was.

“Hello—“

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO MY CAR, Y/N?!”

Well that was one way of waking you up. You sat up, slowly, taking your time with adjusting your position while Hanwoo was screaming on the other line. Once you were sitting up, you glanced at the screen—the name you had changed last night once you got back home displayed as ‘IGNORE’, in hopes that you would do so when he called you. But then again, you thought he’d call you when you were conscious.

“—Y/N FUCKING ANSWER ME!” Rolling your eyes, you heaved a sigh before placing the phone back by your ear.

“And to what do I owe—“

“You were you even fucking listening to me?“ Hanwoo snapped.

“No.” Your answer was simple, honest, and obviously uninterested with whatever he wanted to say. Was the modification that you made to his beloved vehicle not enough of an announcement that you knew what he was up to all this time?

“I was asking what the hell did you to my car?”

“Can’t you tell?” you teased, “I gave it a makeover.”

“You ruined my paint job and popped my tyres, what kind of makeover is this?”

“The kind that fits a cheater like you.” Silence. Complete silence came from the other side and if you listened closely, you could hear the static along with his ragged breathing knowing well enough he was caught. “Cat got your tongue, dude?”

“Y/N…”

“Save the sob story, we’re not dating, I don’t see why you’re fucking calling me other than to cry about your stupid car—“

“How about the fact that your fucker of a dog punched me?” He interjected.

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I mean, Y/N,” he scoffed, “it wasn’t enough to ruin my car, you had to send your dog to ruin my face too.”

It took you a second to realize he was talking about Wonwoo, which means that Wonwoo had punched his face.

Wonwoo punching someone in the face? That wasn’t something you had heard before, nor expected. The image itself was enough to cause you to burst out laughing, your phone falling from your hands, leaving Hanwoo confused and annoyed.

The idea that Wonwoo would go as far as to punch someone was such an unrealistic accusation Hanwoo had made, but nonetheless, had successfully made you laugh after a long night of crying yourself to sleep.

“Are you done?” Hanwoo asked once you placed the phone back to your ear after your laughing fit.

“Wasn’t enough for you to lie about your relationship all this time, now you want to lie and accuse Wonwoo of something he’d never do,” you defended, scoffing at his poor attempt.

“I’m not lying about this, Y/N!”

“So, you admit that you were lying about our relationship?” This time you interjected, wanting to hear him confirm it. It was mostly due to that nagging voice at the back of your head that still doubted what Joy had shown you, that the picture was friendly and not romantic.

It was so pathetic how even after everything, there was a sliver in you that hoped he would deny it.

“Y/N- let me explain—“ In other words: ‘I was, but you haven’t heard my reason’.

“Fuck off, Hanwoo, don’t ever call me again,” you warned, “and if I hear you spread bullshit about Wonwoo like you did just now, it’ll be more than just your car that I ruin. Bye.”

He managed to slip something before you got the chance to hang up. “What about my fucking eye, Y/N?”

“Why don’t you ask Gia to help you with that?” Grateful to have the last word, you hung up immediately, tossing your phone to the side. The phone call wasn’t closure, but it was enough to put those indenial thoughts to rest.

Wonwoo punched him? The thought wouldn’t leave your head as you got ready for the day. Trying to imagine Wonwoo walking up to Hanwoo and giving him a black eye wasn’t something you could see him doing. Besides that, when did Wonwoo get the time to punch Hanwoo if he did? He ended up driving you home around three in the morning, and it was past six now, meaning he had a three hour window.

Unless…

No, that would mean after dropping you off, he had stormed straight to wherever Hanwoo was just to punch him.

You had to make sure, even if it was hard to believe, you had to make sure Wonwoo was okay. As long as you’ve been friends, you’ve never seen him get into any physical altercations with anyone, and if it did happen, it might be possible that Hanwoo wouldn’t have let him walk away unscathed.

Your legs carried you to his house, to his front door and after greeting his parents, to his bedroom door. You knocked, listening in to hear rummaging noises, as if he was panicking.

“Wait, Eomma, I just finished showering—“ He called out from the other side, which you found odd because you knew him, he wouldn’t even be awake at this hour.

“Wonwoo, it’s me.”

The noise on the other side of the door paused for a moment, before Wonwoo called out. “Y/N?”

“Yes, can you open the door?” You asked, waiting for it to swing open but it didn’t.

“No, I’m- uh, I’m watching something, you don’t need to see it,” Wonwoo tried to think of an excuse but cursed at himself because why the hell did that come out instead? You, on the other hand, found his obvious panic hilarious, his excuse eliciting a chuckle.

“I know you met with Hanwoo,” you informed him, making sure to keep your voice down so his parents wouldn’t hear. “So, can you please open the door and let me check the damage?”

You waited a few minutes, hearing him toss a few things away, the noise causing your brows to furrow. The lock turned and the door swung enough for you to squeeze yourself in, knowing well enough that Wonwoo wasn’t about to reveal himself in fear his parents would see (they wouldn’t have, they were on the other side of the house, he was just paranoid). Once you were in, he pushed the door closed, his back against it and you could see what damage Hanwoo had done to your next door neighbour.

It wasn’t bad, admittedly you thought it’d be worse considering his lack of experience.

It was a scratch and bruising surrounding his left cheek, that was most caused by a ring Hanwoo was wearing, but other than that, and a tear in his lip, that was all he took.

“I honestly thought you’d look worse,” you thought out loud, Wonwoo’s brows furrowing at the comment.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shook your head, lightly laughing. “Nothing, do you have anything I can use to clean that?”

“Uh… I do, actually.” He dips to look on his bedside table. “Stopped by a drugstore after because I saw the blood.”

“And when did you get the time to pull it all off?”

“Well, after I dropped you off, I asked Seungcheol since he knows—“ Wonwoo stopped, realizing that this information wasn’t ever supposed to reach you. “Uhm… How did you know I was hurt?”

“Because a psychopath told me,” you informed, and his eyes darkened for a moment, rolling in annoyance.

“I told him to never bother you again,” he groaned, before his gaze softened as he turned to you. “Did he hurt you? Are you okay?”

“He just called my phone, I’m alright,” you reassured him. Taking a step towards him, your fingers gently touched the wound on his cheek, inspecting it. You could see that he didn’t tend to it once it started bleeding, evidence of dried blood surrounding the wound and there wasn’t any antiseptic used either to ensure an infection didn’t happen.

While you were playing nurse, Wonwoo became very aware of the lack of space between your face and his, and he had to hold his breath. It only worsened when your eyes darted to his, the two of you holding eye contact for what he thought was an eternity.

“Let me clean it up for you, Won,” you uttered, breaking the silence and eventually the tension as you turned to walk into his ensuite bathroom. He followed after trying to calm his heartbeat, finding you on top of his sink, soaking a cotton pad with antiseptic and tearing a bandaid from its package.

“Come here,” you urged. Wonwoo stood between your thighs, not wanting to meet your eyes, but you didn’t mind—almost finding him being flustered cute.

“Ow,” he winced when the antiseptic touched the wound after you had wiped it clean of the dried blood.

“It’s a small sting, stop being a baby,” you teased, earning a glare from him. “How come you only came out with this?”

“Got me at the last minute,” he answered.

“And how was he?” Your question was responded with an eyebrow raise instead, causing you to roll your eyes. “I don’t care about him, Won, I just want to know if it was worth it—if you, at least, are satisfied with this decision.”

The corner of his lips turned up, a smug look etched across his face as he answered, “It was. I hurt him enough to send the message and keep it with him for the next couple of weeks.”

“I never knew you could fight,” you said honestly.

“There’s a lot you still don’t know about me, Y/N,” he mumbled, but because of your close proximity, you heard it loud and clear. Before you ask further, he spoke up, “Have you had breakfast yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“After this we can have breakfast, I think my mom made doenjang jjigae,” he informed. You smiled, nodding, “Sure.” You finished tending to his wound by plastering on the Kuromi bandaid, teasing him about it, to which he used the ‘there wasn’t anything else’ excuse.

He grabbed your elbow as you hopped off his sink, the action caused you to stumble out of balance instead of helping, made you bump closer to him, his free arm automatically holding your waist.

Cue the eye contact and pink-tinted cheeks, the move could’ve made you laugh as if it was straight out of a cheesy rom-com, but you were too occupied with trying to think that you couldn’t do so. I’m heartbroken, I’m vulnerable and haven’t been feeling loved for the past week, this is just a fluke, you tried to rationalize the thoughts and your racing heart, knowing well what could work to get out of this.

You tapped his chest, gently pushing him. “Go shower, Wonwoo, you reek.”

“Shut up, I do not,” he protested, laughing to cover his shaky voice. He then added, “Thanks, Y/N, although you didn’t have to do all this.”

“And let you get an affection?” You retorted.

Wonwoo rolled his eyes, and without thinking he uttered, “A kiss would’ve sufficed.” It was too late for him to take back his words, noting your wide eyes and mouth slightly agape, his cheeks flushed when he realized what he had said. “Y/N, I wasn’t thinking—“

You pressed a kiss against cheek, beneath his bandage, shutting him completely. “Take it as a thank you for all you’ve done for me.”

It took him a second to compose himself, grinning, “I am your knight in shining armor, after all.”

You threw your head back in laughter. “Are you riding a horse, my knight?”

“Yes, a pink horse,” he answered, smiling endearingly down at you.

You frowned at his choice of color, “But you hate pink?”

“And you love pink.”

“Gosh, Wonwoo,” you flushed red, taking a step away from him, finding his comment both cringey and touching at the same time—it was shocking you could feel those two simultaneously. “When did you get so cheesy?”

He merely shrugged, a faint smirk on his lips. “I told you there was a lot you don’t know about me.”

[pipwritesoccasionally]

perfect little family

dad!nanami x mom!reader

in which your daughter visits you at work and your perfect husband comes with her!

warnings: fem!reader

higuruma mention because i love him too

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

the day started off ordinarily. you’d gone to work as you always did, even stopping by the bakery next to your daughter’s daycare to pick up a croissant. it was hot and buttery, just how you liked it, and it lessened the feeling of dread that came from working in a law firm every day. 

“good morning!” you exclaimed to the assistant at the front desk, who smiled right back. you’d been good friends since you’d started working in the firm three years prior. 

“good morning (y/n)! how was your weekend?”  

“not long enough. the kiddo decided that she didn’t want to get any sleep, so kento and i were going a little mad. luckily, she’s at daycare for the day, so i can get some peace and quiet while at work,” you recalled, feeling some of the exhaustion seep back in. 

“i know right! my twins wouldn’t sleep through the night for months at a time and i thought i would pass out right here at my desk.” 

“i can’t imagine what we would do if there were two of her. she’s so cute, but she can be a menace. if kento weren’t around to help her i think i’d just have to quit working.” you loved bringing up your wonderful husband, as he truly was the person who made everything alright in the world. 

“i’m so jealous!” one of your coworkers groaned as they walked by. “when do we get to meet this perfect husband of yours (y/n)?” 

“sorry, we’ve just been so busy lately! no one told me the terrible twos last until they turn four! i promise i’ll get him to come out sometime!” you apologize, knowing that your coworkers have been begging to meet kento ever since you began working here. you two were a more private couple, so you didn’t really have pictures of him on your desk. just some notes from him or your daughter, as well as a calendar with all of the important dates on it. 

“oh (y/n), higuruma said he left some papers on your desk to fill out before your meeting in an hour.” your friend at the front desk said, and you thanked her before heading there to fill them out. 

the stack was menacing, but you got it all done, and ran to meet with your boss and the other attorneys of your firm. you slid the door open and shuffled to sit in your seat. higuruma gave you a slight smile in acknowledgement, and you smiled back. you’d become something like friends in the few years you’d worked at the firm, so at least he was a friendly face. 

“alright, i’m here to make sure we’re all on the same page about the client we’re defending before our meeting with them on thursday.” your boss began, before making his way through the information in the documents you had been given earlier. 

he was in the middle of talking when you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. you grabbed for it, meaning to shut it off, before realizing it was from your daughter’s daycare. 

“excuse me, i need to take this. it’s about my daughter. sorry!” you exclaim, rushing out the door of the meeting room and answering the call. 

“hello! is this (y/n)?” a cheerful voice on the other side spoke. 

“yes it is! is something wrong?” 

“your daughter seems to be not feeling well, and she keeps asking for you. is there any way you can come pick her up?” you frowned, remembering that she had been fine this morning. not to mention the fact that your schedule was jam packed all day, and that missing these meetings would severly affect your performance in front of the client. 

“i’m so sorry, my schedule is entirely full. however, my husband kento should be home today, is there any way you can call him?” 

“of course! we’ll call him right now,” the daycare worker says, and hangs up. you sigh, and head back into the meeting. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

hours later, you were in another meeting, this time with some new attorneys, as your boss had asked you to discuss your firm’s processes when it comes to civil or criminal trials. you were currently presenting in front of a group of ten, when a knock echoed across the room. the group went silent, and the closest attorney stood to open the door. 

as soon as the door was open a crack, someone pushed it open and ran over to you. 

“mama! mama!” a little figure ran across the room and threw herself at you, barely making it so you could catch her. she had kento’s brown eyes and (h/c) hair, making her instantly recognizable as your daughter. 

“sweetheart, what are you doing here?” you whisper at her, placing her on your hip. 

“i wanted to see you, so daddy said we could come see if you were busy! but then the lady at the front desk said you were here in a meeting, so i came to see you!” she smiled, her grin showing the spot where she’d lost her first tooth a month ago. 

“well we can’t play right now, but you’re welcome to watch me present if you can sit quietly in that chair over there.” you point at the empty chair, but she shakes her head. 

“no mama! i want you to hold me,” she pouts, and you know that you have to give in. you sigh, before standing straight and grabbing the control for your powerpoint. 

“slight change of plans. this is my assistant, (d/n), and she will be helping me present.” you tell the other attorneys, who are holding back laughter, before continuing your presentation. 

once it’s over and the other attorneys begin to pack up, you take your daughter’s hand and lead her back to the lobby, where your husband is surrounded by a group of your coworkers, including the one from earlier. 

“so, what brings you to the firm?” one woman giggles, clearly infatuated with him. 

“my wife works here,” he says, pushing his glasses up with his hand to show off his wedding band. 

“wife??? who’s your wife??” one of the other women exclaims, but at that moment your daughter chooses to run at him in a full spring. 

“DADDY!” she exclaims, “THE LAWYER PEOPLE SAID I WAS REALLY PROFESSIONAL DURING MAMA’S MEETING!” 

“were you now?” he says, placing her on his hip. “where is your mama anyways?” 

“i’m right here,” you say, and the group of women turn to face you. 

“(y/n)?? he’s YOUR husband??” the coworker from earlier says, and you nod. 

“how can you not have pictures of him on your desk?? he’s gorgeous!” she yells, and you laugh. 

“he mostly takes pictures of me and (d/n), but it’s more of just a safety thing so people don’t find out where he and (d/n) live.” you reply, smiling. you walk past them to your husband, who pulls you into his other side immediately. 

“hi darling, sorry about her,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to your temple. you hear a chorus of squeals behind you, and your friend from the front desk asking them to disperse, but you pay them no mind. 

“it’s no big deal. i think the new attorneys were less stressed out because she was there.” you poke your daughter on the nose, and she giggles. 

“anyways, we should probably get going. when will you be home?” kento asks, and you rest your head on his shoulder. 

“early today, i just have one meeting left and then i’m done. so in around two hours?” you feel the vibration of his chest as he hums. you pull away and step back towards your office, still facing your little family. 

“alright (d/n), say bye to your mom,” kento says, and your daughter waves with an enthused “BYE MAMA!”

you wave back, watching them leave. nothing could compare to the feeling of your perfect little family.

[hysteria-things]

you should do a story of like chris and the reader play like an adult card game. it just randomly appeared in my head i hope it’s not out of ur comfort zone 😭 also i love ur writing and stories sm!

CARDS

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sub/dom!chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: everybody goes off to bed except for you and chris. you find a card game and decide to play, not knowing what it has in store.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, drinking, tied hands, blindfold, teasing, oral (male receiving), degradation, p in v, cream pie, unprotected sex (no bueno!)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,445

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: THIS IS MY FAVORITE REQUEST SO FAR! nothing is out of my comfort zone anon, don’t worry😘 (and thank you for the compliment!)

shoutout to this game that randomly appeared on my tiktok to give me this idea.

enjoy ;)

“i think i’m going to head off to bed.” nick announces, stumbling his way to his feet.

you, the triplets, nate, and madi decided to rent out an airbnb for a weekend getaway. it’s rare when you guys have free time.

you all have been drinking and talking for the last three hours. nate and madi went off to bed about an hour ago, and nick stepped out of the living room.

“i’m going to go too.” matt says a few seconds later. “we got a busy day tomorrow.”

that leaves you and chris left as you two wave goodbye to his brother. there's no doubt that the group is at least a little tipsy.

“you can go to bed too, if you want. i’m sure i’ll be gone soon.”

chris shakes his head. “i’m good right now.”

you scan your eyes around the room until you land on a shelf that’s next to the TV. there’s a handful of games on them, but one sticks out to you. it’s a red box.

you get off of the couch and walk over, taking the box and studying it. there’s a black cat on it, and underneath it says ‘pussy out.’

smirking, you hold up the box so chris can see. “want to give this a try? it says it’s for 3+ players, but we can make it work.”

he laughs. “sure. bring it over.”

you go back to the couch and set the game on the coffee table, laying it all out and reading about how it works.

the group goes in a circle and picks a card. you can either do what the card says or take however many shots it displays on the bottom of it. easy enough.

“i’ll go first,” you say, picking the card that’s the first on the deck.

let the group see your my eyes only on snapchat.

or…

pussy out.

two shots.

“sorry, no.” you start, shaking your head and grabbing the vodka bottle that you guys have on the coffee table. “i’m not doing that.”

chris looks amused. “why not? you have nudes and shit in there?”

“no.” you lie. you pour two shots and drink both. you gag at the alcohol going down your throat.

chris sighs, taking the next card.

wild card!

all leo’s take a shot.

this is your chance to be the center of attention.

he groans. “this shit is so not fair.”

you laugh now. “you heard it. bottoms up, sturn.”

he glares at you before downing one drink. you stare at the card in your hand, a little taken aback.

passionately kiss the player to your right.

or…

pussy out.

four shots.

chris is technically across from you, but it’s the same difference, right?

you bite your lip and slowly crawl over to chris. he glances at your eyes and lips a few times before you lean in and kiss him.

your mouths move in sync with the sound of your lips smacking together. you invite his tongue into your mouth.

you kiss for a few more seconds before pulling away.

both of your lips are red and you clear your throat. “y-your turn.” you stutter.

chris quickly reaches for his second card.

choose a player to spit a shot into your mouth.

or…

pussy out.

three shots.

he reaches for his shot glass and pours the liquid into it. you smirk at his cowardliness. this card isn’t so bad.

“you going to spit in my mouth, or what?”

your eyes widen, staring at his hand that’s holding the glass in front of you.

“o-oh.” you stammer, taking it from him. “um, yeah. sure.”

you pour the vodka into your mouth and hold it there. you grab chris’s jaw lightly as your noses touch. his mouth is already open for you, and you spit the alcohol down his throat.

you pull away as he swallows. for some reason, none of this feels awkward. it feels like young adults having a good time.

both of you let out giggles when you take a card.

wild card!

do whatever your heart desires to a player. if not, you have to take three shots.

(come on, you know you want to)

chris brings his hands to the back of his head and grins. “you heard it. bottoms up, y/l/n.”

you snarl at him using your words against you. “no. put your hands together.”

he raises his brow but obeys. you grab two black pieces of fabric you found and turn to him.

you bite your lip as you tie his hands.

“so… what are you doing, exactly?”

“you’ll see,�� you reply, taking the other piece of fabric and putting it over his eyes.

his chest heaves as you straddle his lap and slowly graze your hands over his chest. “y/n—”

you cut him off when you start to roll your hips. his mouth is agape, groans leaving it each time you move upward on his now growing erection.

“y/n— fuck. don’t tease like that.”

you shush him as you move yourself so you’re straddling his calves. you take off his shorts to see pre-cum already leaking through his underwear.

you rub his dick through the piece of clothing, a moan and hiss leaving his lips.

“you want my mouth, handsome? you want my mouth wrapped around your needy cock?”

he whines and nods vigorously. “god, yes, please.” he pants.

you hum, kissing his twitching dick a few times before finally letting it spring free.

you grab the base; your small hand doesn’t fit around it. you start to kitty lick the tip and move your hand up and down.

he moans, his hips thrusting upward at the sudden contact.

you suck at what’s coming out of his tip before moving your head down, gagging when it reaches the back of your throat.

bobbing your head at a fast pace, chris wiggles and whines from underneath you. the sound of you sucking his dick also filling the room.

“shit, wait.” he exhales. “please. i need to fuck you so bad. need cum inside your pussy. please.”

you grip his thighs when he starts thrusting up into you.

you lift your head before it gets too much and cough. he’s panting as you move your face up to his ear, untying both his hands and the blindfold as you speak. “then do it.”

he flips you over in milliseconds, your back now against the couch. he tears off your panties, the elastic ripping against your skin causing you to yelp. he doesn’t bother to remove your shirt and skirt; he just needs you so badly.

chris gives you no time to adjust when he starts to plow into you so fast that the couch moves with each thrust.

“ch-chris! fuck!” you scream. “you’re f-fucking huge.”

he chuckles and covers your mouth to muffle your moans and screams. “you don’t want them to hear, do you? you don’t want them to hear how much of a whore you are; getting fucked by one of your best friends.”

it’s crazy how fast his demeanor can change. just a few minutes ago he was under your control, even though you hate being the one to take over.

he lifts your legs so they both are over his shoulders, which has him drilling into you deeper. luckily, he holds you in place. if he didn’t, you’d go flying off the couch.

you gasp in his hand and roll your eyes back, arching off the couch so he can hit just the right spot. you grip his hand and move it away from your mouth, not caring if the others can hear.

“o-oh, chris!” you grip his biceps, leaving crescent shapes on them. “i’m gonna— shit, i’m cumming.”

your legs start to shake as you start to spread your cum down his dick.

“look at me,” he demands. your eyes flutter back open and stare into his lust-filled ones. “you want me to fill your pussy? huh? you want me dripping out of you for the whole weekend like a slut?”

“mhm! please— please.”

he starts to rub your clit with his thumb, your eyes crossing at the pleasure washing over your body.

he thrusts a few more times before stopping deep inside you, feeling his orgasm fill you to the brim.

he grunts before pulling out, falling on top of you as you guys breathe in sync.

“can’t wait to spend $50 on plan b tomorrow morning.”

he laughs, kissing your jaw. “my bad.”

it’s no secret that you’ve always liked chris more than a friend, but it’s bizarre that having sex with him happened because of a crazy card game.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Deployments feel longer when you're alone and pregnant. You know Bradley wants to be home for all of the milestones, but you also know he trusts you to take care of yourself. That trust goes both ways when it feels like ages since you've heard from him.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, pregnancy

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

You hadn't spoken to your husband in more than three weeks. Not once since he left on a deployment of undetermined length. When you were on base, tucked away in your office or working on a project in the lab, it wasn't so bad. You could almost get lost in the idea of heading home to start dinner and find him working on a project. You could nearly pretend he'd be ready to wrap you up in his arms and ask about your day. But you knew better than to drift all the way into that daydream, because he wasn't there, and you didn't know when he would be back.

At least Tramp greeted you with excitement when you walked in each day, but you suspected that was partially because he knew you were about to feed him. Your friends kept you busy on the weekends, and Jake stopped by the Craftsman on occasion with Jeremiah when Cat needed a break. Today, he even made a comment about the multitude of pallets lined up on your driveway that prevented you from pulling all the way up to where you usually parked.

"When Rooster gets back, I'll give him a hand building that jungle gym," Jake drawled as you handed a cracker to Jeremiah. "We'll have it finished in a weekend, and then Jer can test it out."

You watched Jake kiss Cat's son on the cheek as you said, "He can teach the Nugget all about the slide and the swings when the time comes." Your belly felt a little tender as you ran your hand over your shirt, loving the feel of the bump beneath your fingers. You were nineteen weeks along, and when Bradley left, you'd still looked just bloated. Now you were starting to get round in all the places that made you excited for what was to come. And after so many weeks of non stop nausea and vomiting, you were happy you could finally eat.

Jake snorted. "You've taken to calling the baby a Nugget, too? Thought that was just your husband."

You rolled your eyes and flicked his arm. "Maybe I miss him, okay? Like a lot." Your voice shook even though you were trying for a teasing tone, and Jake's features softened. You quickly asked, "Are you two staying for dinner?"

Jeremiah was such a sweet toddler, and you were so lonely today, you were hoping Jake would say yes. But he kissed you on the cheek before he said, "Not tonight. I told Cat we'd be home by six."

You just nodded, once again afraid your voice might shake. You'd be fine; it wasn't like you needed someone with you all the time. It wasn't like you couldn't get through the night. 

Once they were gone, you made yourself some dinner and ate it while you stood at the kitchen counter. Occasionally you dropped some bites for Tramp who snapped them up out of the air before anything ever hit the ground. 

"Don't tell your dad that this is the reason you beg at the table," you muttered as he sat next to your foot and wagged his tail wildly. Even the veterinarian didn't know exactly how old he was, but he still seemed like a puppy sometimes. You could already picture him and the baby playing together.

Your gaze caught on the newest set of ultrasound photos which you had stacked up at the end of the kitchen counter. The appointment with Dr. Morris made you cry afterwards, because Bradley wasn't there to gush over the baby. You drove his Bronco that day, and you sat quietly trying to compose yourself while enveloped in his smell. He had some older ultrasound images tucked in the sun visor, and you wanted him to see the new ones so badly, you ached.

"I'm going to get ready for bed," you groaned at Tramp even though it was still early. You took a bath with the floating thermometer Bradley bought for you to use while pregnant. You drank a can of ginger ale instead of your preferred pink champagne, and you listened to one of the playlists he made for you. 

When you were climbing in bed, you took the note he left you from your nightstand. It was folded into a paper airplane that looked exactly like his tattoo. He'd even written Baby Girl on it like always. Very carefully, you unfolded it and read the short message that you already had memorized, because it just meant something more in his handwriting.

I love both of you so much, sometimes I feel like I'm dreaming. Nothing could be this good. There's no way I get to return home to everything I ever wanted. I don't know when I'll be back, so I need you to take care of yourself and the Nugget until I can take over my duties again. I won't be gone a minute longer than I need to be.

You shut your light off before your tears could fall, and Tramp snuggled in next to you. When you thought about Bradley, you pictured him in his bunk. Maybe he was alone. Maybe he was with Reuben. Maybe he was rooming with a different officer. But it didn't matter, because you could easily imagine him practically spilling out of the narrow bed, one knee bent with the pink and blue notebook propped up while he wrote to the baby.

When your phone started ringing in the pitch darkness, you jumped, practically falling out of bed as you reached for your lamp and phone at the same time. It was a FaceTime call. It said restricted caller. You screeched his name, far too loud for your voice which has been resting just seconds ago. You shoved your glasses into place so you could see him, and shouted, "Bradley! Roo! Are you okay?"

"Hey, Baby Girl," he crooned, and his smiling face came into focus. You practically dropped your phone as he said, "I'm fine. Sorry it's so late."

You felt giddy laughter bubbling up inside you; the idea of your husband apologizing for calling and making your whole week was absurd. "No, no, no, this is perfect," you insisted. "This is great.

Bradley laughed and said, "I miss you so fucking much. Wish I was in bed right there with you."

"Me too," you replied. "It got chilly here tonight, and Tramp isn't as snuggly as you are." You missed his warmth and voice so much. It was almost Halloween, and the nights felt way too long. 

His voice was just a whisper as he said, "Tell me about the Nugget."

Your smile felt overpowering. "Dr. Morris said the Nugget looked great when I was there two weeks ago."

"Two weeks ago," he groaned, rubbing his hands along his face. "Sweetheart... I already missed so much." When he looked at the screen again, you were out of bed and on the move. "Where are you going?"

You flipped on the hallway light and said, "To get the ultrasounds to show you. I left them on the kitchen counter."

You propped up your phone and held up one of the photos so he could see the baby. "There's my Nugget," he said, voice thick with emotion as you held up a second image. "Fucking cutest baby I've ever seen."

You couldn't help but laugh, feeling better than you had in weeks. "I liked this one the best. I think it looks like the baby is waving hello."

"Shit," he gasped. "You're right. I can't wait to wallpaper our bedroom with copies of these."

You pulled the ultrasound away and gasped, "You're probably not even joking."

"I'm definitely not even joking."

You leaned on the counter and got a little closer to your phone as you whispered, "Another week or so, and I can go in for an anatomy scan."

Now you felt guilty as he nodded with his lips pressed together. "You get to find out if the Nugget is a boy or a girl."

Tears stung your eyes. You could already imagine him holding the baby in his arms, loving him or her no matter what. "Yeah," you said with a nod. "But I don't really want to do that without you there too."

It took him a moment to respond. "I wish I could get home in time to hold your hand and find out in person. But you know I don't care one way or the other. The only nice thing is that we can start narrowing down baby names soon. I actually wrote down a few that I kind of like in the Nugget notebook earlier."

Your heart swelled. "I can't wait to read all of your notebook entries. And if you're not home for my next appointment, I'll be practically vibrating with anticipation until I get to tell you if it's a boy Nugget or a girl Nugget."

You wanted to show him how your belly looked more curvy now, but when you and he both parted your lips to speak, you heard someone shouting in the same room as him on the aircraft carrier. Now your husband wasn't looking at you at all. 

"Bradshaw! It's time. Get into your flight suit."

"Yes, Sir," Bradley said before glancing back down.

"You have to go," you sobbed, unaware that you were actually crying until you heard yourself. 

"I do," he said quickly. "Right now. Listen, I love you. More than anything. You and the baby both, okay? I love you."

"I love you, too," you sobbed as your lips trembled. "So much."

"I'll be home soon," he told you earnestly. "I love you."

Then you were standing alone in your kitchen at 4:48 in the morning with tears streaming down your face. The abrupt end to the call set your nerves on edge just seconds after you had been feeling so good. You gripped the edge of your kitchen counter; that wasn't a regular call to order, that was the start of his mission you just witnessed.

There was no chance of you falling asleep again, so you let yourself cry while Tramp put his head down on your bare foot and licked your ankle. 

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

Halloween came, and you could barely manage to give out candy to the neighborhood kids. You'd had Bradley with you for the previous two Halloween nights in a row, and this year you didn't even want to buy a costume without him. You were exactly twenty weeks along, approximately halfway through your pregnancy, but it was hard to be excited even as groups of kids ran up and down the sidewalk. 

You sat on your porch and dropped goodie bags into pillowcases and plastic pumpkins while Tramp barked inside the house. You commented on all of the cute costumes. You cried a little bit. Your emotions were all over the place as you tried to imagine what it might be like going out to collect candy a year from now with your baby in a tiny costume. 

When the trick-or-treating ended, you went inside and opened a miniature sized Hershey bar for yourself, and then you almost screamed. The chocolate fell to the floor as you reached for your belly. Tramp looked between you and the fallen treat as you sank down onto your knees.

"Oh my God," you gasped, eyes squeezed shut tight. You could feel the baby moving. It was kind of a wild fluttering sensation. You rubbed your palm against your shirt a little more, and the slight movement felt like a response. Your baby was right there. "Hi, little Nugget." Then you felt something like a soft thump.

You wished more than anything that Bradley was here to witness it. He was going to absolutely freak out when he got home. Then the intrusive thoughts arrived. If he got home. It had been another week and a half since that FaceTime call where he got cut off by a commanding officer. If his mission was completed, he should have called you back by now. But at least you didn't have a fleet admiral dialing your number. 

You didn't move for a long time, not until the baby seemed to get into a cozy position where the movement slowed down and then stopped. When Tramp started sniffing around the candy bar, you crawled over to it and picked it up before he could get any ideas.

Time was simultaneously at a standstill and also moving too fast. In four weeks, it would be Thanksgiving and your first wedding anniversary. You'd been holding off making plans with your parents, because you didn't know what to do. You were already overdue for your anatomy scan, dodging phone calls from Dr. Morris's office when they told you that you absolutely needed to come in for your checkup. They were starting to leave you lengthy messages about how they needed to complete the full scan to be sure there were no underlying issues. 

As you walked to your bedroom, you promised yourself you'd call tomorrow and schedule an appointment. Bradley would miss finding out if the Nugget was a boy or girl, but at least you'd get to see all ten fingers and all ten toes for the first time. You could reveal the news to Bradley when you got to talk to him. You would go to your appointment, because he trusted you to take care of yourself and the baby the best that you could.

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

The cafeteria was packed when you walked in with your uniform shirt untucked and your pants unbuttoned. You finally caved and ordered a maternity uniform last week, and Bickel let you cry in his office about how ugly it was before he sent you back to the lab. It should be arriving any day, but for now, you were making do. 

When Nat saw you, she was on her feet heading your way immediately. "Your belly looks bigger!" she gasped, pulling you toward the table where she was sitting with Bob and Maria. "When's Rooster coming home?"

You shrugged miserably. "You think I know? I just work here."

Her laughter made you smile for the first time all day. Your nausea was back a little bit, and you were too afraid to even try to eat anything until you got home later tonight. When Nat scooted her tray closer to the edge of the table to make room for you, she asked, "Where's your lunch?"

You didn't want to lie, but you really didn't want them to pressure you to eat right now. "I think I'll just take something back upstairs with me." As you slid onto the empty spot on the bench, you asked, "Do you know if anyone has heard from Payback?"

You were met with shaking heads which didn't help your mood at all. What the hell was going on with this mission? Your tongue felt too thick, and your saliva practically made you gag as Bob said, "I thought they would have been home by now. Five weeks is a long time for a special mission."

Maria elbowed him in the side, but it's not like he was saying anything you weren't already thinking. This sickening feeling had been inside you for days where you were convinced something went wrong. You just couldn't fathom why you hadn't received a call yet.

"I know," you muttered. "It's okay." But you weren't actually sure if it was or not. It has been months since you had a panic attack where you had to spend a few hours with Dr. Genevieve, but you could feel it building up now. Worrying about Bradley and yourself and the baby all at the same time was mentally and emotionally exhausting.

You pretended to pick up a sandwich before heading toward the elevators in the lobby, and you stopped to throw up in the bathroom before you made it back to your office. Your anatomy scan was scheduled for Friday, almost three weeks after they originally wanted you to come in. If you were still feeling this anxious, you'd block off part of your schedule next week to visit Dr. Genevieve again.

Somehow, even though the only thing on your mind was talking to Bradley, you were shocked when your phone woke you up just before midnight on Wednesday evening. This time you rocketed to your feet as you yanked your phone free from the charger. It wasn't a FaceTime call. It said RESTRICTED CALLER. You braced your hand on your nightstand in the dark, and when you answered, you knew immediately that it wasn't your husband on the other end of the call.

"Hello? I'm calling on behalf of Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw," came a male voice in response, and then he was asking you to confirm your personal information. 

"What happened?" you gasped once he established that you really were the one and only person on Bradley's contact list. "What happened to him?"

There was a soft hum from the man, and you wanted to jump through the phone and strangle him for his lack of response. Then, as you finally managed to turn on your lamp, he said, "It looks like his flight just took off out of Hong Kong."

"Flight?" you gasped. "He's in the air?"

"Yes. A commercial flight into San Diego. He should arrive Friday morning, and I can give you the details now so someone can arrange for a ride for him." 

You were baffled as to why Bradley didn't call you himself, but if he was on his way home, you didn't care. And you weren't going to arrange for a ride for him. You were going to pick him up yourself. When you grabbed a pen from your nightstand, the only paper you could find was the love note he left for you, so you started writing the flight number on your arm instead. Then you gasped and almost dropped the phone when you ended the call. There was the slightest chance he would be back in time!

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

Bradley was exhausted. He knew he could sleep for two days, no problem. He would land in San Diego and hope you were there to get him, then he'd ask you if the baby was a boy or a girl, then he'd take you home and make love to you before falling the fuck asleep. He really wanted to start building the jungle gym playset, but that was just going to have to wait for another day.

It was Friday, or at least that's what he thought, and he wasn't sure how busy you had been at work, because he hadn't spoken to you in weeks. Maybe Bickel let you take the morning off. If Bradley didn't get to see you in baggage claim like he always had before, he was going to be so annoyed that he was delayed weeks longer than he should have been. This mission turned into a three part nightmare on the high seas, and all he wanted was his wife and his Nugget.

When his flight landed, he was up and out of his seat, ready to go. Of course he ended up lifting down carryon bags for a few older passengers and one woman who had two kids with her. Of course he knelt down to help someone find their reading glasses. But all he wanted was for this line of people to move it off the aircraft so he could get into the terminal and call you.

When you answered on the second ring, shouting his name into the phone, he couldn't help but smile. "I just landed, Sweetheart. Does that mean you're here to get me?"

"Yes! I'm in baggage claim! Hurry up!"

His whole body thrummed with need as he picked up his pace at the confirmation that you were here for him. "I'm coming as fast as I can," he promised, squeezing between two groups of people walking way too slowly. He wanted to know if you took the day off. There were a hundred questions circling his brain, but the first one that he needed an answer to was, "How's my Nugget?"

He could hear the smile in your voice as you said, "Your little Nugget is thriving, Roo. But get over here and see for yourself!"

"Baby Girl," he laughed, jogging a little faster. "I'm coming." 

"Hurry," you whined, and he needed to give you what you wanted. 

He bypassed the crowded escalator and took the stairs as quickly as he could, skidding around a corner as he turned toward baggage claim. "Almost there," he panted into the phone. And then he saw you and groaned, "Fuck," loud enough that a few people shot him nasty looks. "Holy shit, Sweetheart."

Bradley ended the call as you glanced around, and he stumbled when you finally spotted him. You were wearing a new dress. It was a pretty shade of green, and it was snug, hugging all of your curves. Hugging your bump. You had a bump. You looked so obviously pregnant to him, he was ready to crawl on his hands and knees and beg at your feet.... for what, he wasn't sure. But that's what his brain was barking at him to do right now.

"Roo!" you called out, prancing toward him in that tight dress and your boat shoes, and literally nothing felt better than being with you. As soon as you were in his arms, he was home. "Bradley," you moaned against his lips as his hands found your sides. You felt different in the best possible way. The swell of your belly wasn't huge yet, but it was definitely there. He could feel it. His growing baby.

God, you were kissing him just right, fingers threading through his hair as you rubbed yourself against him. "Jesus," he groaned into your mouth, but you kissed it away as he ran his hands along as much of your middle as he could reach. He couldn't help it; when you eventually broke the kiss to take a breath, he dropped to his knees in front of you.

Your fingers were still in his hair as you looked down at him in surprise. "Roo?"

He was kissing along that green fabric and rubbing his nose against that perfect, little bump. He knew you were twenty-two weeks along, and he knew what that meant. "Please, tell me," he rasped, stroking you gently with his thumb. "Please, Sweetheart. Is it a girl or a boy?"

Your softly parted lips and smile had all of his focus as he waited to hear you tell him what he'd been dying to know. "Oh," you whispered, pushing your fingers through his hair, leaving him in anticipation as your fingertips glided down his cheek. "I don't know yet."

"You don't?" he asked, brow creased in concern. But you just kept smiling as his heart pounded. "You don't know?"

"Nope," you replied easily. "My appointment is in an hour."

Bradley rocketed to his feet. "Are you serious?" he whispered, his voice a little harsh. "I didn't miss it?"

You kissed him softly as he collected you back in his arms. "You didn't miss it, Roo. I postponed it as long as I could. You're just in time."

"Hell yes!" he whooped, pumping one fist in the air as you giggled. "You waited for Daddy," he said, smiling down at your belly as he slowly walked you backwards. "That's my Nugget." You were looking up at him with trusting eyes as he pushed you back against a pillar next to the baggage carousel. "You said we have an hour?"

"Yes."

"Good," he murmured before his lips found yours, and his hands continued their excited exploration of your new curves. 

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

Next up is the big reveal!!! I am so excited!!!! Get your final guesses in now! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who has been reading and interacting. Welcome to the new series!

PART 2

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[pickingupmymercedes]

Home is wherever you are - Lewis Hamilton

request: I was wondering after hearing Lewis saying that he is looking to going home after the Canadian gp. Can you write a sort piece of the agony he has in his voice and he just want to be in the arms of his loved one.

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: angsty, mentions of Mercedes fuck up, Canada 2024 and that post quali interview

wordcount: +1K

a/n: I've had this sitting in my drafts since Canada, but I wanted to wait a bit for things and the rumors to settle down before I reread it and posted. I'm still salty on that hard tyres at the end though.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

The cheers of the Montreal crowd celebrating a Mercedes's pole echoed in Lewis' ears long after Qualy had ended. He had led every free practice session, feeling the car was finally locked in with him. But in Q3, something had been missing. Maybe it was luck, maybe a fraction of a second's hesitation. Whatever it was, it had cost him dearly.

P7. A miserable P7 after dominating practice all weekend.

He plastered a tired smile on his face for the cameras and interviews, his own disappointment evident in the lack of the usual glimpse to his eyes.

“What’s going on in your mind after that qualifying session?” one reporter asked, leaning in expectantly.

Lewis shrugged, trying to keep his composure. “Nothing much, just looking forward to going home,” he'd mumbled to the reporter's query about his thoughts, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He knew it was a curt response, but he couldn’t bring himself to elaborate. All he wanted was to escape the scrutiny, the forced smiles, and the disappointment that hung over.

Home, at least for that night though, was the hotel room that felt more like a business conference room these days, devoid of warmth or the one person who could chase away the guilty he felt for not leaving up to his own expectations.

Back in London, Y/n scrolled through post-quali highlights, her smile fading with each dejected clip of Lewis. He wasn't just disappointed, he looked defeated. A knot formed in her stomach, the all so familiar feeling of helplessness twisting with the protectiveness she always felt towards him.

9 pm. Ridiculous, she knew, but the need to hold him, to be around him, was an urge she couldn't ignore.

"On the first flight out," she typed furiously, the message a lifeline thrown across the Atlantic. "There in 10 hours, tops. Around 2 am, your time"

The phone buzzed to life almost immediately. Lewis' voice, sharp with disbelief, echoed in her ear. "Y/n, are you insane? It's the middle of the night for you!"

"Doesn't matter" she cut him off, shoving clothes into a duffel bag. "I'm coming. Just... don't argue."

The next hour was a blur of packing, the phone pressed tight against her ear as Lewis argued, pleaded, then finally relented with a weary sigh. By the time she boarded the plane, the weight of exhaustion had settled in, but the worry for him was still deeply rooted.

The 9-hour flight felt like an eternity. Touching down in Montreal, she hailed a cab, the city still wrapped in the pre-dawn darkness. At the hotel, her heart hammered against her ribs as she used the spare key the hotel provided, the beep of the door lock seemingly taking longer than normally.

Three a.m. The monotonous hum of the air conditioner was broken by the door creaking open, Lewis propped on one elbow at the bed, his eyes looking tired and a bit sunken.

Before he could understand what was happening, she rushed forward, engulfing him in a tight hug. The familiar scent of his aftershave and the warmth of his body flooded her. He stiffened for a moment, then melted into her embrace, burying his face in her hair.

"You shouldn't have come" he mumbled; his voice thick with sleep.

"Had to." she whispered, stroking a hand down his back. They stayed in each other’s arms, the only light coming from the bedside table, a silent language passing between them, a comfort only they could offer each other.

Finally, he pulled back, hesitantly sitting up on the bed. The suite was grand but cold, much like it always used to be, only this time it also happened to mirror the emptiness in his eyes.

He waited for her to strip from her clothes and pull one of his discarded t-shirt over her head before gesturing for her to join him. The silence stretched once she took him in her arms, thick with unspoken questions and a heavy feeling of disappointment.

"Quali," she finally ventured, her voice soft.

He let out a humorless laugh. "Bottled it. Again."

"C’mom" she countered, her voice firm. "It happens, Lewis. Even to the best."

He looked at her, his eyes raw with a vulnerability he rarely showed the world. "Again, and again?! Maybe this was my real only shot this year."

The weight of his words settled on her like a lead blanket. This wasn't just about a bad qualifying session; this was about a season slipping through his fingers, about the gnawing fear that that was probably how the end of his years with Mercedes would be like.

The pressure, the constant fight to live up to expectations, it was a burden he carried mostly alone, a burden that threatened to crush him.

Tears welled up in her eyes. She couldn't offer him a magic solution, couldn't guarantee a win. But she could, at the very least, offer him a safe harbor, a haven from the storm.

"I just don’t understand" he said after a while, his voice raw with emotion. "I felt so good about the car all weekend."

"I know," she replied softly. "You did everything you could. Sometimes, things just don’t go our way, no matter how much we want them to."

He sighed, pressing his face closer to her. "It feels like I’ve let everyone down. The team, the fans... myself mostly."

"You haven’t let anyone down," Y/n insisted. "You’ve given it your all, like you always do. That’s what matters. And no one who truly cares about you would think any less of you for it."

Scooting closer, she took his hand in hers, the warmth a meagre offering against the chill that had settled over him. "You're one of the best drivers on that sport, Lewis. And you know that."

He squeezed her hand, his gaze flickering with a flicker of defiance. “That’s not enough. You know how it goes, we’re only as good as our last race."

"Then you keep going because you’re Lewis Hamilton," she said firmly. "You’ve faced tougher challenges than this, and you’ve always come out stronger. There will be other races, and you’ll have more chances." She cupped his face, her thumb tracing the worry lines etched around his forehead. "I believe in you and you need to believe in yourself again. Remember why you started. Remember why we watch you race."

His gaze softened, but his mind still seemed lost in thought. He leaned into her touch, a silent plea for the belief she always seemed to possess. "I’ll always be here to remind you of that" she promised, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You’re not alone in this, Lew. Not ever."

The race day dawned grey and damp, mirroring Lewis' mood. The strategy meeting was tense and when the decision for the strategy was announced, a flicker of doubt crossed Lewis' face on using those hard tires.

The race itself was far from normal as usual, the ever thread of rain, the chaotic pit stops and strategies. Lewis fought his way through the pack, competition momentarily pushing the doubts aside. But at the end a “free pitstop” he wasn’t considering had him emerge on hards – a strategic decision that left him to fight even more with the car and potently lose on all the pace he had been building.

Lewis' blood ran cold. It felt like a betrayal, a deliberate attempt to stop any chances of fighting for the podium with him trapped on the slower tyres. He crossed the finish line in P4, the roars a distant echo in his ears.

Back at the hotel, Y/n watched, with an aching hear, how he couldn’t hide his disappointments to the media, his face a mask of controlled frustration almost letting loose.

Later that night, as the cities lights twinkled outside their plane heading to Los Angeles, Y/n pulled out her phone. "Look," she said, handing it to Lewis.

The screen buzzed with tweets and comments, the familiar #TeamLH trending worldwide. Messages of support, fans and commentators alike dissecting the race strategy, and vowing that Lewis had the pace to fight for that podium.

"They got your back. And I fear they’re not leaving." Y/n said softly, squeezing his hand with a soft chuckle. “I told you, you’re not alone in this. You’ve got an army of supporters who believe in you, just like I do.”

He leaned in and kissed her, feeling some of the weight of the day a bit lighter on his shoulders. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For everything.” his voice hoarse but laced with love. "We'll come back stronger next time. But before that, Roscoe’s waiting for us in California"

Y/n smiled, her heart brimming with pride for the man beside her. Home wasn't just a place, it was a feeling. And in each other’s arms, their home could be found even across the Atlantic.

______________________________________________________________

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[seethesin]

wake up call

pairing: Hazel Callahan x F!Reader

tags/warnings: sexual content, hazel & reader are 18+, established relationship, college au, body worship, teasing, oral over clothing, orgasm denial/edging (18+, mdni)

a/n: i too have caught feelings for my favorite arsonist, hazel callahan 😔 have an uncharacteristically short, smutty fic while i work my thoughts out.

loosely based on this prompt. gif pack/gif credit. enjoy :)

"Baby, it's time to get up."

You're too busy trying to sleep off a migraine to pay attention to Hazel stirring in bed or what she has to say. Even with an eye mask on, any stray refraction of light is enough for a splitting pain to reverberate in your head. You should have drank more water and less tequila last night.

Hindsight was always 20/20.

You and Hazel had met your friends at Mary's, a local gay bar a mile from campus. The bouncers never commented on the fake IDs you thrust in their hands every weekend and barely bothered to check them as they ushered you inside. Your best guess? They'd take every dollar they could get.

It was a small, hole-in-the-wall establishment, but it was fun enough for the group of you to drink, dance, and sing desperately off-key. It was your usual meeting spot on Thursday and Friday nights—sometimes Saturdays if you and Hazel had the strength to get out of bed in the morning—where you all could gossip about your professors and peers. You don't remember much from last night, but you do remember grinding on Hazel after downing three tequila sodas while Isabel bitched about her Econ professor, Mr. Weber.

You were now facing the repercussions of your debaucherous, dehydrated actions.

"Babe," Hazel tries again. Her disembodied voice is farther away now, most likely in the bathroom next door. "You're going to be late for calculus."

Who the fuck convinced you to take Friday classes? Let alone actually attend them?

Oh right. It was Hazel.

At least both of you managed to find off-campus housing at the end of sophomore year. If you had to share a bathroom with an entire floor again, you would have hung yourself with dental floss.

"Professor Hoyt can eat my ass," you grunt, grabbing your pillow and smashing it into your face. The next part of your sentence is so garbled that you can't even understand yourself. You hear Hazel's footsteps reenter your bedroom as the mattress concaves next to you. The pillow is nudged off your face and stray beams of light bury themselves back into your eye mask.

"She better not." Her breath fans against your cheek as you feel her nip playfully at your skin. "That's all mine."

Hazel can't see your exaggerated eye roll, but she feels the grin growing across your face. She mirrors it eagerly, pressing sweet, soft kisses down your cheek. You feel her lips ghost down your jaw before gliding down your neck. You hum quietly, reflexively tilting your head to the side to expose more flesh to her.

Hazel notices and firmly bites at the base of your neck. You moan, caught off guard.

"I can just ask Isabel for the notes after she gets out of Econ." It comes out as a whine as you feel Hazel shift on top of you.

"Mhmm," she mocks, her hands creeping under your nightshirt. Gingerly, she tugs it up and over your head before shoving it towards her side of the bed.

Her hot mouth reconnects with your skin, trailing down your chest, and kissing just over the curve of your breast. Her lips sink lower, enveloping themselves around your nipple as she sucks. Her hands slide up and down your body reverently before resting on your waist. You mewl, rutting your hips forward.

"Haze," you breathe but she ignores you.

Her lips pull away from your breast, kissing across your chest to give short, equal treatment to its twin. Whatever she was trying to do had the opposite effect on you; there was no way you were leaving this apartment when your girlfriend was too busy devouring every inch of your body.

Hazel kisses wetly against your skin as she begins her descent down your abdomen. Suddenly, she halts. Her nose brushes your navel and her mouth hovers just over your loins. She's so close to where you want her and you vocalize your frustration with a growl. Hazel's thumbs hook under the waistband of your underwear as her head sinks lower.

"Use your words," she teases, voice husky as she snaps the elastic band back into your skin.

You whimper, shoving your hips closer to Hazel's face. If you weren't so hungover, you would have clamped your thighs against her cheeks and squeezed. Hazel had a thing for breathplay anyway; she would have loved it.

"Put your mouth on my pussy."

"Yes ma'am."

Immediately, Hazel's hands grope the meat of your ass, tugging you toward her. Her lips kiss against your clothed cunt, her tongue poking out to kitten lick against the fabric of your underwear.

You exhale, squeezing your eyes shut as short, raspy moans push from your throat.

"Fuck yes," you sigh, wriggling your hips to steal more friction from Hazel's tongue. The coil in your stomach begins to tighten as heat radiates from between your legs. Your underwear is soaked from a combination of your slick and Hazel's saliva. You were embarrassed to admit it, but you were already nearing your first climax.

Apparently, Hazel has a sixth sense for impending orgasms because she realizes that too. Without another word, she detaches herself from your body. The bed creaks as she rolls off it. Her footsteps retreat to the other side of the room.

She's gone. You keen.

"Hazel, what the fuck?" Your thighs press together, rubbing feebly to try and salvage a lick of your previous pleasure. It's useless and you give up with a petulant huff.

The brunette chuckles from a distance, the sound growing louder as she returns to the bedroom. You rip your eye mask off, squinting for a full-fledged minute as your pupils adjust to the sunlight. After blinking feverishly, you stare at Hazel, now leaning into the doorway. A sheen of spittle and slick glows from her chin.

"You're up," she states obviously, her arms crossed over her chest. The way they press into her tits makes your mouth water.

"I've been up!"

She snickers.

"Good. Now you won't be late to calculus anymore."

[sunrizef1]

What happens in Vegas pt 12

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader

Warnings: Cursing, briefly mentioned puke (referenced), panic attacks (referenced), the NFL

Authors note: wanted to get this out before the race tomorrow, I actually quite like this chapter

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yourusername

📍Austin, TX

liked by logansargeant charles_leclerc16 and 2,309,099 others

yourusername happy to be back in Austin, ready to recharge 🔋

Tagged: logansargeant, l/nranch

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user1 the speed with which she left china is honestly so funny

user2 the race was two days ago why’s she already in America 😭

user3 why’s she at a farm???

user4 her grandpas family got rich by owning a really successful agricultural company so both her grandparents decided to buy a ranch outside of Austin, which is where y/n grew up

user5 her dad being English always throws me off when I think about her family tbh

user6 her grandpa went to a race once and made the joke that the Americanism skipped a generation lol

user7 wait I’m new to y/n, how’s her dad English but the rest of her family’s American?

user8 her grandparents were based in England when he was born but they ended up really busy so they sent him to a boarding school from the time he was really young, hence the accent

user9 they’re so confusing 😭

user10 my favorite cowgirl

user11 she couldn’t wait till cota to go home???

logansargeant your grandma likes me more than you

yourusername no she doesn’t

user12 I didn’t know Logan went with her

user13 where’s Charles???

yourusername added to their story

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yourusername added to their story

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INSTAGRAM

yourusername

📍Las Vegas, NV

liked by killatrav taylorswift13 and 3,980,756 others

yourusername had a great time at the @/patrickmahomes charity golf gala this weekend! Grateful for the opportunity to show all these boys how it’s done out on the green and support charity at the same time! ⛳️

Might have to get you a different hat though 😉 @/killatrav

Tagged: logansargeant, killatrav, patrickmahomes

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user14 are those Porsche golf balls!?!?

user15 THEY EAT SO HARD

logansargeant I 100% beat you

yourusername I was 5 under par. You were 5 over. You lost.

logansargeant ☹️

user16 what a crossover

killatrav don’t hate the player, hate the game 🤷‍♂️

yourusername i dont hate the game, I just hate alpine

pierregasly ???

yourusername see you next week, Frenchie

user17 her and Pierres fake beef is genuinely so funny to me

user18 where's Charlesssss

user19 he liked the post, at least

user20 omg they're in Vegas! Remember what happened last time they were in Vegas…

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

📍Bellagio Hotel & Casino, Las Vegas

liked by charles_leclerc16 donnakelce and 6,989,870 others

yourusername Last night out in Vegas 😵‍💫

I'm, once again, honored to have been invited to the 15 and the Mahomies Charity Gala! Got to auction off a few paddock passes and also got to spend a great night out with friends!

Thanks so much Vegas, you were a lot better this time than you were last time.

Tagged: logansargeant, taylorswift13, killatrav, patrickmahomes, charles_leclerc16

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user21 CHARLES CONTENT?!?!

user22 she seems happier than she has before

user23 Logan and Taylor swift in the same room is not something I’d ever expect tbh

patrickmahomes thanks for coming! ❤️💛

yourusername thanks for inviting us! ❤️🖤

user24 this is just so American

taylorswift13 🫶

yourusername 🫶

user25 more Logan content this week than Williams gives in a month

user26 they’ve been to like three different states already lmao

user27 I need the home field advantage from Miami for these two this weekend

logansargeant I’m so tired

yourusername at least it was fun 🤷‍♀️

logansargeant lol, it definitely was

user28 the first pic is so sibling coded

user29 “Mon ange” CHARLESSS 🥹

user30 the fact he’s tagged on the messages 😭

user31 THE LAST LINE ABOUT VEGAS?!?! IM SCREAMING!!!

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[dumpywrites]

Cat-enaries - Min Yoongi / Suga

Part two of Cat-astrophe 

Summary: all these series of meaningful acts, but you still don’t know where your relationship stands. 

Genre/tags: Fluff, smut (protected sex, vanilla)

Pairing: Yoongi x she/her/afab reader

a/n: this is my first time writing smut! T_T

Ever since that eventful night you spent at Yoongi’s place, where both of you got drunk and eventually ended up sleeping on the same bed together (just sleeping!), and him wanting to get to know you more, you continued to see each other more and more. Mostly after you came back home from work, but it could be on weekends too if both of you did not have any other plans. 

After a while you began to know some of Yoongi’s friends, and same thing for him as well. He had a small circle but you were surprised on how they bring out the best out of him. He had been doing all these small gestures just like randomly giving you snacks, offering to babysit your cat when you were busy, or just simply wanting your company while he was producing music. Occasionally he would invite you to a party from his management, where you met his co-workers. 

He would only introduce you by your name though, never any label following behind the introduction. A friend? A neighbor? No, just your name. All these things he had done, and never once did he ever mention about relationship, or at least to put a name on your situation. 

It had only been three, going on four months, you kept telling yourself. Maybe he wanted to get to know you slowly and throughly and did not want to rush things. But then again, you knew how straightforward Yoongi was and he would had at least said something about it if that was the case. Maybe it was for the best, reminding yourself of the traumas you got from your past relationships, maybe it was better to take things slowly. But what made you anxious was the thought of falling by yourself.

Tonight you both agreed to watch a horror movie together at your apartment, with the occasion being you just got a promotion. The promotion happened two weeks prior, but both of you were busy. Yoongi had already sent you a dozen of donuts as a celebratory gift, but you insisted on wanting to spend some quality time with him.

“Have you eaten?” You asked as you opened your apartment door for Yoongi. 

“I have.” He simply said and immediately bent down to greet your pet who was meowing by his feet. 

“He misses you.” 

“We see each other a lot, don’t be a clingy cat.” He smiled and booped the cat’s tiny nose. He picked Cookie up and lightly kissed his forehead before letting him back to roam around the house. 

The scene made your heart race and you cleared your throat. “Well, I also miss you.” You said, hoping Yoongi would catch your intention. 

“I miss you too.” He giggled and ruffled your hair instead, before walking to sit down on your sofa, completely unaware by how disappointed you were. “We’re watching Exhuma, right?” He asked. 

You hummed in agreement, hoping he wouldn’t catch the slight disappointment in the tone of your voice. “You wanna drink something?”

“Anything’s fine.” 

You muttered an “okay” before going to your fridge and grabbed two cans of Sprite and small bowl of popcorn you had made beforehand. You sit down next to him and played the movie and thought to yourself. There wasn’t really anything affectionate happening after you spent the night at his. You had never really kissed officially with you being sober, maybe only once when he kissed your forehead when you went to roller skate together, that was if that could even be counted. 

That day you were struggling to keep your balance and he caught you in his embrace just when you were about to fall frontward. He was laughing and despite being annoyed, you couldn’t help but to get swayed by the sound of his laughter. You didn’t get to process it that much when you felt his lips lightly pressed against your forehead. It happened just for a few second before he let go and simply asked if you were okay. 

Reminiscing the moment had your whole body warm. You put your feet up and hugged your knees together. Yoongi looked to your side, noticing your behavior. 

“Are you cold?” 

“Uh, I don’t know.” It was the opposite, you dummy! You secretly complained. 

“Here,” He grabbed you by your shoulder and scooted you closer to him. “Better?”

“Slightly.” You said, you didn’t realize you were pouting while saying it. 

Yoongi sighed, but a small smile was on his lips. “Only slightly?” 

“Only slightly.” You were annoyed by this point, but you felt awful for wanting to ask, and basically begging, for any skinship from him. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He softly asked while stroking your shoulder gently. 

“Do you not like me like that?” You said while avoiding his gaze. “Am I reading the whole situation wrong? Do you just wanna be friends?”

Yoongi chuckled and it annoyed you further more. He had the audacity to find this hilarious while you felt confused and hurt. 

“Yoongi, this isn’t funny.” 

“On what situation is what we’re doing considered as just friends?” His words immediately made you look back at him. 

“I don’t know! You never really said anything about us being a thing, anything, and…” You found it hard to admit that you basically were asking for his affection. “Nevermind, this is stupid! Let’s just get back to the movie…”

“Look at me.”

“No.” You refused, even when your heart was beating faster at his request. 

“Y/N, look at me.” He said again, this time softly grabbing your chin to make you face him. 

Not a single word came out from him after that, only him dipping down quickly to meet your lips. You were surprised but shortly melted into his kiss and found yourself returning it. He was taking his time tasting your lips. His kisses were very gentle that it almost made you beg for more. Slowly his tongue made an entrance and you welcomed it swiftly. A small low moan escaped your lips as you parted them wider for him to access you. 

And when it was done, mainly because both of you were completely breathless, Yoongi hugged you. He chuckled and this time you couldn’t help but to smile as well. 

“I like you. Maybe in love at this point.” He confessed with you still wrapped in his embrace. “I couldn’t recall when exactly the shift to love began and I’ve been thinking to myself these past few weeks… but every time I see you, I keep wondering if there was even any moment when I wasn’t.”

You blushed at this and snuggled closer, hugging him tighter.

“I feel like I’ve been buying extra portions of my food a little too often, been on Instagram more just to send you some random internet memes that you like so much, been making sure I hear that door opening sound when you come home from work, been thinking about you twenty four seven that my music starts to have your vibe, the melodies just sound like they were made for you and I couldn’t even explain how…” He chuckled at the last mention. “The composer even told me that my work has a romantic touch to it lately.”

He broke the hug so he could look at you and smiled, showing his gum a bit. “I’ve given up cause honestly, I can’t even remember what was life before all these feelings.” He shrugged playfully. “Honestly, I don’t think I even wanna remember how life feels without these emotions.”

Your eyes got teary all of the sudden. Your view was getting a bit blurry. A small laugh, mixture of both relief and happiness, escaped your very own lips before you crashed them back on his. Yoongi immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you back close to him. The kiss was more desperate this time, demanding, needy, but most importantly, filled with overwhelming feelings you both had for each other. 

Yoongi swiftly pulled your body and brought you on his lap without breaking the contact on your lips. A muffled squeal came out from you, but you instantly put your arms over his shoulder, deepening the kiss. 

After moments of tongue dancing between the two of you, you pulled back first because once again he had you breathless, but it seemed like he didn’t want you to rest yet, as the moment you pulled away, his lips found their way on your neck, leaving trails of the softest kisses. You bit the insides of your lower lip, trying to subdue the moans that were eager to get out. His thigh being exactly between your legs was certainly not helping you either. Hearing you trying to conceal your voice made him looked up. The sight of you flinching concerned him. 

His right hand palmed your cheek. “I’m sorry, are you uncomfortable? Is this too much?” 

You blush at the tenderness and shook your head in disagreement. “No… uh, I’m not uncomfortable…”

Yoongi smiled at you and quickly kissed your forehead. “Okay.” He simply said, before he went back to put his attention on your neck, showering it with pecks. You were still making low sounds, not trying to conceal your voice as much, just humming with your mouth closed. Your body was still tense but was progressively easing the more his lips kisses you. 

His hands started to move up underneath your top, just shyly under your bra, as if he wasn’t sure if you would grant him more than that. When an open-mouthed moan finally came out from you, Yoongi took it as his green light and began to bring the movement of his hands upwards, gently fondling your clothed breasts, which promptly made your body turned into jelly against him. You could only bury your head on his neck, letting him continue toying your chest. 

Your eyes shot open at the feel of him unclasping your bra. The touch of his palms meeting your bare breasts sent heat through you that instantly went south. You whimpered and hugged him close, burying your face further on his neck. 

“You okay?” He chuckled, not stopping but decreased the pacing of his hands. The angle now making it awkward due to your body pressing closer to him. 

“I’m just shy.” You said while still not moving from your position. 

“You don’t wanna continue? Cause I don’t mind.” He said as he moved one hand to soothe your back. 

“N-no, Yoongi I just… kinda just getting all insecure cause it’s the first time you’ll be seeing me and I’m just scared if I’d look weird to you.” 

“You’re perfect.” He told you and he meant it. 

“I haven’t done this in a while.” You said with a slight moping tone. 

“So do I.” He took your hands to pry them apart from him. He guided them to his chest where you could feel his heart beating rapidly. “Do you think I’m not nervous?”

You looked at him and couldn’t help but to smile. But when you looked down, you realized a growing bulge was present and that seemingly he was not only nervous, but excited as well. 

“You also seem excited…” You giggled. 

“Not exactly my fault now is it.” 

“It’s okay,” You looked up to the ceiling. “I may or may not be soaking through my panties now as well.” That earned a groan from him. 

“Do you want me to help?” He breathed out. His hands now holding your waist steadily, thumb grazing your underboob. “Or we could totally just makeout and it’s alright.”

“Yoongi.”

“Yeah?”

“Continue… please.”

He groaned once again before lifting both your top and bra at the same time. As the garments sat just above your chest, the view of your nipples perking out just for him had the man salivating. Slowly, he lifted you to his side and laid you down so you could rest on your back on the sofa. He bent down and proceeded to pepper your chest and breasts with soft feather-like kisses, almost as if you would break if he pressed harder. He looked up and felt his ego somewhat boosted with the scene of you biting your lips, whimpering. 

He kissed your right nipple and began to sensually nip and twirl his tongue around it, that was it for you. You fully moaned when his right hand pinched your left nipple and twisted it. You brought your hand to your mouth, trying to repress the arousing sound coming from your mouth from being too loud. 

“It’s just me.” He mumbled into your skin, one hand went to trace the line on your back. 

But that’s the problem. Yoongi himself was your main weakness. 

He continued to play with your twins, lapping the buds with his tongue, making sure he gave both of them the same treatment. Slowly his right hand traveled downwards, caressing your middle through your sweatpants. Your breath hitched. 

“Everything okay?” He asked again. 

“Y-yeah.” You managed to vocalize. 

“Can I take these off?” He said, tugging slightly at the band of your pants. 

You only nodded and he kissed your forehead. He proceeded to deliberately slide down your bottoms, leaving you with your exposed panties. 

Yoongi gulped at the sight of your damp underwear. A small patch of wet spot could be seen and he could not lie to himself and felt proud of his doings. He bent down and kissed your lips for a second before flashing a soft smile. 

“Can we continue in your room?” Before you answered, he followed. “I want you to feel comfy while I eat you out.” 

That sentence almost had you hollering.  

“Okay…” You breathed out heavily and took his hand, dragging him inside your bedroom. 

Just after he closed the door, for a split second you saw a smirk visible on his face, before he scooped you up in his arms. You gasped, and he quickly pecked your lips before gently laid you on the bed. He brought his right hand to caress your thigh softly, slowly moving upwards to your crotch area. You moaned instantly at the contact. 

His middle and ring finger moved up and down, petting your core through the cotton cloth. The pace slowly increasing, and so did the volume of your pleas. You could feel your body turning into jelly already when neither his fingers or lips had touched your naughty bits yet. 

Finally you felt one of his finger tugging and pulling your underwear. You gladly, almost too eagerly, helped him by wiggling out from it, as you watched him pulling it loose and dropped them to your floor. He pulled you slightly so you were close to the edge of your bed, and he bent down on his knees. He gaped at your glistening core, and he really was ogling for a hot minute, lost at his thoughts. 

“Stop staring at me like that.” You quickly clamped your legs together. 

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t believe this.” He chuckled, hands on your thigh, meddling your legs back to spread out for him. “I haven’t done this in a while…”

“You’ve told me.” Your eyes searched for his. 

“No, I mean, I might be rusty… if it feels weird or if you wanna stop, we can stop anytime.”

You could see the nervousness and self-consciousness in him and it made you wanna love him even more. 

“I just wanna taste you so bad right now.” 

He hunched closer in between your legs and dived in. He licked a bit, tasting you in his tongue. At that moment he decided it was his favorite flavor. He licked a full strip your labia, before then letting his tongue danced around it, making out with your cunt. He tried to make a mental note on which part made your back arched, which side made you moan louder. Hoping the next time, if you would let him, he promised himself he would make you feel ten times better. 

A loud yelp came out from you when he slid in his middle finger. You bit your lips, feeling shaky. He carried on trusting you, slowly in and out, pacing increasing at the same time as his tongue on your clit. He then added his ring finger and you felt it effortlessly sliding into your sopping wet hole. The attack from both his tongue and fingers quickly trembled you down. You felt your stomach came into a knot and your insides clenched. 

“Y-Yoongi… I…”

You could not form a sentence and Yoongi seemed to be too immersed to respond your pleas as he kept his tempo. You were grasping onto the bedsheets, back arching towards him, and then the orgasm hit you. 

The image of Yoongi smirking with your slick trailing down his chin would now be forever embed on your brain. It would certainly be in your dreams for quite some time. 

“That was… okay, right?” 

“That was incredible.” You said through panting. 

The guy smiled and kissed the crown of your head. He pulled his t-shirt off in one go and kissed you once again. You broke off the kiss first, pulling him by the neck so he could crawl on the bed with you. Now with you under him, he then kissed your neck before sliding your cropped top over your head, making you fully bare before his eyes. 

“Beautiful.” Yoongi said in a low voice. 

The compliment flipped your stomach upside down. “How come I’m the only one completely naked…” 

Your comment earned a smile from him. “Would you help me then?” 

You blushed, but did not oblige. You didn’t waste any time and helped him out from his pants. 

“Wait.” 

He suddenly stopped mid through. His pants were already down to his knee area, and it couldn’t be helped that all your attention were now heading towards his massive bulge that wasn’t in any way shy behind his boxer brief. He stepped down the bed, finally taking off his pants fully. You could see him taking out something from his back pocket before he let the cloth fell down joining the rest of your clothings on the floor. 

“You came prepared.” You commented with a teasing smile after seeing the item he took out from his pants. 

Yoongi just looked at you with a hint of red decorated his cheeks. You found it extremely adorable that he was bashful about it. 

You took his hand and pulled him back with you on the bed. He put the condom on your bedside table, before dipping in to kiss you. It seemed like you both had found out that kissing each other was the best thing and you felt dumb for not doing it sooner. As he kissed you passionately, you were hesitant for a second, but you slowly brought your hand to feel up the swelling bump on his below. You swallowed his groans in the kiss as you continue to stroke up and down. Breaking the kiss, you mumbled something about wanting to return his favor, but Yoongi grabbed your wrist immediately, stopping you from taking off his boxer. 

“At this rate I’m going to cum in my pants so maybe next time, sweetheart.” He kissed your forehead.

When he free himself from his underwear, your jaw dropped along with it. Of course you were no saint, you had caught a glimpse of his groin area before when he wore that one gray sweatpants that you fancied. You were in fact suspecting that he was at least a little above average, but not this. He had completely proven you wrong. Quite frankly, you had never thought about how beautiful a male part could be until you saw his. 

You gulped your saliva and salivate the mesmerizing scene in front of you, watching as he ripped the condom pack with his teeth and rolled the rubber from his tip downwards. He positioned himself in between your legs, sliding his tip up and down on your entrance, which made you whimper instantly.

“Yoongi… please…” You pleaded.

“If it hurts even just the slightest bit, let me know, okay?” He said, caressing your hair. 

You only nodded and soon after you felt his tip entering you ever so gently. You moaned loudly and it seemed like the movement not only affect you, but Yoongi also, as you saw him closing his eyes shut, grunting along with you. He slid in very carefully, making sure you were adjusting well with his girth. When he reached a certain length, you yelped. 

“Did I hurt you?” He suddenly asked out of worry. 

“No… it just… it just feels very full.” You managed a smile to reassure him. 

“Okay.” He breathed out, combing his locks through his fingers. “Let me know when I can move.”

You touched his hand to catch his attention. He looked at you with a wary expression. “You can move, I’m not that fragile.” 

He muttered a stuttered “okay” before sliding himself deeper. He lunged deep and out slowly, making love to you passionately. He intertwined his fingers with yours, going on a soft tempo, as if he was trying to confess his feelings through, making sure you feel how sincere he was. You brought your hands to cup his face, then stroked his hair, before putting them over his shoulders to pull him close. Your lips met again in the middle, muffling your moans through the tongue lacing activity. His hands were cupping your breasts, fondling with them as your kisses went harsher and sloppier. 

And when he moved from your lips to kiss your chest, you bucked your hips against him, with your hands ruffling his hair as he tongue your nipple carelessly. His tempo began to distort and the knot in your stomach started to feel too much and you knew you were close. 

Not long after you came to release, he followed soon after the feeling of you clenching hard over his cock. The sound of both your heavy breaths filled the room. Yoongi once again dipped down to kiss you. Starting from your forehead, your nose, your cheek, and lastly your lips. You giggled in between every single one. He then got up to tie the ends of the condom, timidly walking towards your bathroom to where your bin was. When he was done, you were now lying to your sides, curving your legs in a fetal position.

Yoongi approached you and slowly cuddled you from behind. You automatically scooted closer to his body warmth. 

“This is oddly familiar.” He chuckled. 

You recalled the first time you spent the night at his place by accident, when you woke up with him cuddling you exactly like this. Minus the nakedness of course. 

You turned your body to face him. A huge smile was plastered on your face. “I hate you.”

“I’m sorry?!” He eyed you with an annoyed expression. 

“I’m so madly in love with you it’s insane!” You smacked his chest lightly.

“I’m sorry, I guess I was just afraid of moving too fast. I haven’t been in a relationship in a long time and I was worrying if I’d make you uncomfortable…” 

“I thought you had decided that you don’t like me or something… I was even jealous of Cookie when you kissed him!”

“I noticed.”

“You noticed?! And you chose to do nothing???” You huffed.

“You looked cute so I decided to leave you be.” He snickered. 

“You’re evil.” 

“You’re evil for wearing that extremely tight crop top today.” His eyes travelled down and up to your nude body.

“It was… on purpose.” You bit your lips. “I guess it worked? Haha?” 

He raised one of his eyebrows at you and smirked. “Give me five minutes and we can go again.”

“Oh my god??? Who are you?! Give me back my cute and shy Yoongi!” 

You squealed as he laughed and hugged you close. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” You said, followed by a loud smack of smooch to your cheek from him, then he flashed you his gummy smile. 

Thank you for reading! 💎

taglist: @yunaurlove @waitaminswife @yoongisababygoat @hazyjoon @callsignwidow @ai-des-blog-blog @jovanaprime @bangtanmisser7 @angelk0503

[eff4freddie]

Physical Therapy

Joel Miller x AFAB Reader No Outbreak AU - 4.4k words

For @punkshort's AU August challenge, in celebration of her one year Tumblr anniversary!

A.N: My prompt was 'lifeguard Joel' and I'm nursing a bit of a sore wrist at the moment, hence whatever this is was born. Thanks for the fun prompt! I would very much like Joel to save me from drowning now, please and thank you.

Warnings: None.

It had just started out as a kind of tickling feeling around behind your ear on your left side, and down along the back to the shoulder blade. When you’d first noticed it you’d thought you had a hair stuck under your shirt, and all day you kept reaching up under your bra strap to try and free it. Later, you would rub the skin red trying to lift the phantom follicle from your skin.

Later, it developed into a coldness, punctuated sometimes with ants marching up and down your shoulder blade. Your clavicle ached in cold weather, and you rolled your shoulders of a morning to try and shake the weird sensations from the joint. You were too busy to worry about it, you had too many deadlines, you could just type with your left arm resting on a pad of paper to elevate it. You knew you’d been working too hard on your paper for your next research symposium. As soon as it was over you’d deal with it.

When it started thrumming of a nighttime you’d just take ibuprofen to dull it, numb it off with a heat pack and an occasional glass of whiskey. But when it got too hard to type, when the daggers started shooting down your arm to the point that you could barely get your sleeve over it, when your shoulder was so frozen you couldn’t lift it over your head to brush your hair, you conceded defeat.

Your physiotherapist was lovely, and young, and fit, and you wished you could hate her. She ran marathons on weekends, on purpose and apparently without having first been threatened, and she gave you a bunch of exercises you promised you would do, made you pay $24.95 for a bit of stretchy rubber you could tie to your doorknob and stretch with, a couple of strength building exercises printed out and folded neatly, which you immediately threw on your coffee table and used as a coaster.

You went twice a week after work. She massaged you until you had tears in your eyes, biting back the pain by clamping down on your back teeth. You lied to her that you’d done your stretches, and she let you, because she was a nice person. Your recovery stalled, and you both pretended not to know why.

In the end, you just got fed up with yourself. You’d had to push back your presentation at the symposium, had found it too painful to sit at your desk for the long stretches it would take to be prepared. Your supervisor had insisted you take time off, that your PhD could be extended, and you had balked at the idea and then, eventually, conceded that too. Your stupid frozen shoulder was icing out everything in your life you cared about. You suggested to your physio you might like to swim.

--

It had been a while since you’d been in a bathing suit. Glad you’d at least thought to shave, you went into the change room dreading coming out again. You’d deliberately gone at 2 PM on a Tuesday afternoon, figuring the only people there would be either 100 years old or ladened with babies, and their bodies wouldn’t be so threatening to yours. You remembered a time when your body had felt strong, when your legs had carried you around European cities, up and down mountains. You wondered where that girl went.

You were a careful person, and you liked rules, so you shuffled as speedily as you could towards the pool, careful not to run. Your brother had slipped once, aged 9 and a half, and knocked out two of his teeth when he went down. Your mother had to wait three months to get them fixed, having to save up the fee, and your brother had whistled slightly on windy mornings. You’d teased him about it, and you felt bad about it now, holding your arm tight to your body so as not to jostle your shoulder.

The water was cool, and you took the stairs one at a time to get yourself into it. You gasped when it reached your belly, reaching down to splash yourself to try and acclimatise. It wasn’t an especially warm day, but the sun was out and it was warm enough on your skin. You sunk down, feeling the water lap at your shoulder. The relief was immediate, the cool spreading over your strangled nerves, and you let out a sigh. You didn’t think you were about to swim any laps, but it was enough to bob around in the shallow end and feel the water carry your weight. Your mind was quiet for the first time in a while. You watched two birds glide on the breeze, ducking down to skim over the surface. You hoped they didn’t shit in it as they passed.

Then, a giggle. A tittering, high-pitched thing that shattered your reverie and made you turn towards it, a scowl on your face as you looked up into the sun. A woman in a high-cut bikini straight out of the 80s was standing at the base of the lifeguard’s chair, looking up at the man sitting atop it. She was practically drooling, flipping her hair and nearly slipping out of her top. You couldn’t make him out, the glare casting him in darkness and too proud to shield your eyes with your hand to get a good look. She had all her weight on one foot so she could thrust her hip out and her chest up. You heard his voice rumble out of his chest, deep and heavy and surprisingly kind. You couldn’t make out the words. You reminded yourself you didn’t care.

--

Your physio was proud of you, and you wanted to hate her for that, too. You reported your attendance at the pool, lied about doing your exercises, and paid another $24.95 for another rubber band thing after you pretended you’d misplaced the first one. You knew exactly where it was, on the doorknob where you’d tied it the first night and then ignored it. But it was a good, if expensive, excuse.

The next time you went to the pool you chose a time slightly earlier in the day, hoping that the midday sun might tan you a little as you rehabilitated. You bobbed around again in the shallow end, experimentally rolling your shoulders and moving your arms in small semi-circles in front of you. The water carried the weight so you could just focus on moving the joint, and when the ache set in you could just float there, let the water carry you completely as you floated on the surface. With your face to the sky and the sun beating down the whole world turned bright and colourless. It sanded down the sharp edges, turned the detail to pulsing fuzz on your retinas.

80’s Bikini Lady didn’t resurface, but you got out when an entire class of 4th graders arrived for their swimming lessons. As you went for your towel you heard that rumbling voice again, booming out over the top of 20 excited kids, instructing them to quiet down so he could teach them to tread water. You wondered if that was what you were doing now, your research and your thesis gathering metaphoric dust on your laptop. Treading water.

--

It took you until your fifth visit to try an actual lap. Your shoulder had been feeling lighter, the joint freeing itself under the water just enough that you could bear the weight of the it as you moved. You had been experimenting with little half breaststrokes, just two or three with your head high over the water and only deep enough that you could plant your feet at the first twinge of pain. But you wanted to try something different, today. You wanted to make it down to the other end, even if you had to grip the lane rope and pull yourself there.

You felt eyes on you as you walked to the edge, and you turned quickly to see the lifeguard was at his station. It was early enough in the afternoon that you could see him properly, his aquiline nose, his curls unruly and chocolate brown. He nodded at you, an acknowledgement that he was keeping watch, and you nodded back to him. It was just you and a man in his 60s in the pool today.

You hissed a little as you descended the stairs, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin. Today it was cloudy, and the water was cooler than you had been expecting, and you worried for a moment it would be bad for your shoulder somehow, that your muscles would be less malleable, less cooperative, in the cold. You swallowed, wondering if you really wanted to do this today. Then you remembered your thesis, and the way you had thrown yourself on dancefloors, in spin classes, ridden boys in your dorm room like your hips would never ache. You wanted that girl back. She was at the other end of the pool.

You pushed off, holding your arms straight out in front of you and using your feet against the wall of the pool to propel yourself forward, letting the momentum drift you the first few feet. With a brave breath in you spread your arms wide in a breaststroke, kicking with your legs to keep up some sort of speed. Three strokes, then four, then five and you were nearly a quarter of the way down the pool already. You just had to keep breathing, stick with it, pace yourself out. You cupped the water with your hands, pushing it away from your chest as you moved. There might have been a little twinge, but you banished any worry. You were doing it, if slowly, if gingerly.

You swam over the point where the bottom of the pool fell away, past the point where you could stand. The water felt cooler, the depth of it stealing some of the warmth, and you felt a little warning tingle up your elbow. Your neck pulled a little to the right to try and dodge the pain, and you faltered a little, lost some of your rhythm. In your surprise you’d opened your mouth and taken in a little bit of water, and you spluttered.

Suddenly your arms were out of sequence, and you were struggling to bring them back together in front of you while kicking with your legs. They felt uncooperative, like they were on different strings, and you were finding it hard to keep your neck bent up high enough to keep your face out of the water completely. You jerked to try and regain your momentum, and sent an electric shock through your shoulder, pain spreading out all the way down to your wrist. You gasped, the pain making you pull your arm into your body, trying to cradle it against your chest, and you started floundering, your nose and mouth dropping beneath the surface as you struggled to stay upright. You swatted at the surface of the water with your good arm, panic in your chest, as you tried to figure out if it was better to turn and head back to the shallows or carry on to the other end.

You heard a splash behind you, a huff of air as a body broke the surface and then an arm around your waist.

‘I’ve got you,’ he said, and you leant back into the warm body behind you, trying to suck in air.

‘My shoulder, my arm,’ you cried, keeping it tucked against you as the lifeguard pulled you to where you could stand. You gasped, choking a little on water but mostly just from shock, your face burning red with humiliation and the pain of your throbbing collarbone. ‘I’m sorry,’ you said, suddenly feeling like you wanted to cry, as you caught your breath, the man still holding you gently around the waist and leaning down to study your face.

‘You’re OK, you’re OK,’ he said, his voice like warm honey as it oozed over the panic in your brain. ‘Take a breath, I’ve got you.’

Oh fuck, you were definitely going to cry if he kept being so nice to you. You felt heat in the back of your eyes, bit down on your bottom lip so he couldn’t see it wobbling.

‘I just wanted to swim a lap,’ you said, and you could hear the desperation in it, feeling as small as a child.

‘You injured?’ he asked, and you nodded. He tugged you further towards the shallow end, led you by the good arm over to the steps.

‘My physio said exercise would help it,’ you explained, throwing her soundly under the bus. ‘I just…I thought I was ready.’ You felt the frustration bubbling over. You had a terrible habit of getting teary when you were mad. ‘It’s just been so shit, and I wanted to…I just don’t even know this body anymore, you know?’ you complained, wincing when you realised you’d just trauma dumped on him.

‘Can’t rush these things,’ he said, unfazed. ‘Gotta take it at your own pace.’ Standing up in this part of the pool the water only came to his waist, and he gestured to his belly where a jagged scar punctured his left side.

‘Jesus,’ you said, at the sight of it and also realising for the first time he was shirtless, water running in rivulets down his golden skin. He was so broad it was no wonder he’d managed to get to you in the centre of the pool in all of three strokes. You felt yourself start to tremble, and you weren’t sure it was from shock.

You’d known, of course, that he was handsome. You had eyes, after all. But up close, standing over you, hair slicked back as his brown eyes roamed your face for any sign of distress…up close, he was devastating.

‘Joel,’ he said, holding out his hand, and you took it, awkward and shy. He told you he liked your name when you mumbled it to him, and you realised he was very good at his job. You wondered where you could find an 80s bikini.

‘Thank you, Joel,’ you said, when your heart had finally settled back into its normal rhythm. ‘I’m sorry you had to…’

‘Trust me, pulling beautiful women out of the deep end is not the hard part of my job,’ he said, and then you watched as his eyes widened, like he was only just realising what he’d said, and you felt heat crawl up your cheeks.

You wanted to ask him what the hard part was. You restrained yourself, because you’d been humiliated enough for one day.

--

You skipped your next session at the pool, instead using the rubber stretchy thing to try and elongate the joint. It didn’t feel as good, and you nearly snapped it into your face more than once, and you definitely didn’t think about Joel’s golden skin glistening in the sunlight the entire time you did it. You didn’t think about his arm banding around you as he pulled you to safety, not even a little bit. The rubber thing was fine. It was going to solve all your problems.

--

You hated the fucking rubber stretchy thing. For one, it smelled like condoms but in a weirdly stale kind of way, and for two you were fairly sure it was going to rip your door off its hinges in your crappy little apartment, and you really didn’t want to have to call your landlord when that happened. It might mean you’d have to tidy up.

Also, it was late Spring and pretty soon school would be out, and the pool would be heaving, and so you had to get your shoulder back to normal as soon as possible before the place got flooded with kids. The bikini you fished out from behind a bunch of old clothes in the back of your closet was so that you could move your shoulder more freely. You were being pragmatic. You were planning ahead.

It was hotter again, the warmth of summer encroaching, and you were genuinely relieved to see the sparkling, clear water when you arrived on the pool deck. You walked, head held high and chest out just a little, past the lifeguard chair, studiously not looking but also really trying to look. You spent an extra few seconds fishing around in your back for your sunscreen, trying to steady your pulse. When you swivelled around, preparing to smear it over yourself, you glanced over at the chair.

Unless Joel had aged 20 years in the week since you’d been, and gained forty pounds and lost all of his hair, he was not on shift today. You felt yourself deflate, your shoulders slumping, your left collarbone sending out a thrum of pain in warning.

It was probably for the best, of course. You were here to do rehab. This was serious medical stuff.

You didn’t want to hazard another lap, not with Beergut McBaldALot on patrol, so you floated a bit in the shallow end and practiced making circles with your arms. You were stiff, having taken a week off to whip yourself up into a pointless frenzy over the lifeguard. The water eased some of the tension in the muscle, and you once again felt your mind start to still.

You wondered if, on his down time, Joel preferred board shorts or speedos. You couldn’t imagine him in a full banana hammock – you could, but you didn’t want to – but you wondered if he was a Daniel-Crag-In-His-First-Bond-Movie-When-He-Emerges-From-The-Ocean-Booty-Shorts kind of guy. That didn’t feel right either, though. His work uniform was boardies, and you decided that Joel was the type of guy who just wore them on his own time anyway, because they fit and they were on hand. As for what was going on underneath them. Well, that was something else entirely.

As you bobbed in the water you imagined his strong arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest and letting you rest your head on his broad, tanned shoulder. You wondered if you’d be able to feel his heartbeat on your cheek, if that close you could hear his tight little exhales as he glided you through the water, held you up so that you could finally, finally let go. You sighed a little to yourself, drifting in the middle of the pool and hoping no one had any plans to swim any laps. You let your hair trail out behind you as you drifted, imagined the slight pull of the water was his fingers threading through.

--

You weren’t hungry but you had nothing at home, so you stopped off at the grocery store on the way home, your shoulder feeling better for having had a little bit of movement. Sleepy from the warmth of the sun and your weightlessness, you barely noticed the man standing at the end of the cereal aisle until you were tripping over him, his arm shooting out to catch you before you could really, properly fall.

‘Ooof,’ he exclaimed, and you knew that voice, felt the furious rush of blood to your cheeks as you righted yourself and were met with the same warm, brown eyes.

‘We really must stop meeting like this,’ he said, smiling down at you, and he was just as beautiful on dry land as he was submerged. You felt your hands start to tremble and you worried you’d drop your basket.

‘Joel,’ you said, trying to hide the comingling shame and excitement on your face. ‘You look different when you’re wet.’

Murder you. End it now. It would simply be kinder.

Joel, to his credit, just laughed a little.

‘Hair’s a lot fluffier,’ he said, reaching up to tug at it and making you want to chew on your own fist.

‘There’s that,’ you said, your voice oddly strangled.

‘You breakfast shoppin’ at 4 in the afternoon?’ he asked, gesturing to the cereal box in your hands.

‘Dinner, actually,’ you said, strangely proud at your sheer level of disfunction. ‘Ever since my shoulder, cooking hasn’t really been…’

You trailed off. Your mom had sent over a couple of frozen lasagnes, and you’d worked your way through those in a week. For a while you got dinners delivered but it got expensive, and then worst, it got boring. Before all of this started there were some nights you’d been so engrossed in your thesis you’d forgotten to get dinner at all. You missed those nights, too. To be so distracted.

‘How’s the arm?’ he asked, and you realised you were cradling it again, holding it fast against your side.

‘It’s slow, and I’m trying to be patient,’ you said, honestly, and his brows saddled. He hummed in thought, pouting his lips out a little. You fought every atom in your body not to lean forward and pull them between your teeth.

‘Your physio given you exercises?’ he asked, and you nodded, avoiding his gaze. ‘You doin’ em?’ he asked, and you were suddenly really interested in the nutritional content of your Cheerios. He snickered out a laugh. ‘No one ever does ‘em.’

‘You speaking from experience?’ you asked, and he smiled.

‘I used to…well, not a physio but I did a little personal training, and uh…basically unless I was there barkin’ at ‘em no-one did what they were told.’

Bark at me, you thought. I’ll do anything you say.

You coughed, trying to collect yourself. Fuck, he was beautiful, but you realised what you liked most was just the warmth in his face, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. You trusted him, you realised. You didn’t know him, and you trusted him.

‘I’m pretty sure my physio knows I’m lying to her,’ you confessed, and he smiled.

‘She definitely does,’ he agreed.

‘I’m otherwise a very honest person,’ you added.

‘I have no doubt,’ he said, with a little twinkle in his eye that made you want to gouge the things out so you didn’t have to deal with them torturing you anymore.

Instead, you looked into his basket and saw kale, a bunch of carrots and a carton of eggs. You grimaced.

‘Please tell me you’re not on a cleanse or some shit,’ you said, and he smiled.

‘Nah, you got me just before I headed over to the candy aisle.’

‘You like candy?’ you asked, and he grinned.

‘Got a sweet tooth,’ he confessed.

‘Name your poison.’

‘Reece’s. The umm…the cups.’

‘The cups. A peanut butter man?’

‘Yes ma’am,’ he said, that southern drawl appearing again. You felt it hit you like a bullseye in your core. You wondered what else you could get him to agree to.

‘A man of taste,’ you said. You were flirting over grocery items and you didn’t fucking care. You would banter about the phone book if he kept grinning with his whorish little dimples out.  ‘Thank you for helping me out the other day,’ you said, and he shrugged.

‘S’my job,’ he said, and you shook your head at him, swishing your hands in front of you as if you could push his humbleness aside.

‘Yeah, but you chose that job, and I’m glad that you did,’ you said, simply. ‘It’s a generous thing, putting yourself on the line for someone else.’

‘Always been a kind of protector,’ he said, almost to himself.

‘I can see that,’ you replied, honestly, and he turned his gaze to you, considering you for a moment. ‘Although I guess a lot of the time it’s just watching people splash around.’

‘Ain’t hard to watch some people,’ he said, gazing down at you, his jaw muscle twinging a little.  You felt your stomach do a silly little flip.

‘No?’ you asked, your throat dry.

‘Mmm-mmm,’ he said, shaking his head but not breaking eye contact. You wanted to grab his broad, golden shoulders and hitch your thighs over them. You wanted to reach up and take his curls in your fingers, pull him onto his knees and his mouth to your nipple, let him nibble where they pebbled. You wanted to drown the gorgeous fucker, just for being so pretty he was setting your brain on fire.

For a second the two of you stared at each other, trying to pretend the sparks weren’t flying.

‘That can’t be dinner,’ he said, after a while, and you realised he was talking again about your cereal.

‘I could get some grown up muesli if that would make you happy,’ you offered.

‘Wouldn’t want you to get malnourished, come by the pool and drown from lack of…vitamins,’ he finished.

‘Lack of vitamins?’ you teased, and he blushed.

‘Can’t have you wastin’ away on me.’

‘So, you’re saying I have to eat the muesli for your benefit?’ you asked, and he shook his head.

‘No breakfast for dinner,’ he said. ‘Maybe I can fix you somethin’.’

Your heart stopped, right there in the grocery store, in your flip flops with your hair still wet from the pool.

‘…’ you said, and he finally broke your gaze, finally allowed you to breathe for a second. He looked thoughtful, maybe even a little sorry.

‘Not professional of me to ask out the patrons,’ he said, after a while.

‘Do you work at the grocery store?’,’ you asked, bolder than you were feeling. He moved closer towards you, just a half-step, so that you could feel his breath ghosting over your face.

‘If I gave you some exercises, would you do ‘em?’ he asked, his voice so low it came straight from the Devil himself. You felt the jolt of want spear between your legs.

‘My physio might get jealous,’ you said, and he grinned.

‘As your lifeguard I feel like it’s my duty to overrule, baby,’ he said. He lifted a hand to your bad shoulder, holding it gently, supporting the joint. You sighed a little, the extra support releasing some of the pressure from the tendon.

‘If you think it’s that serious,’ you whispered, as you leant in towards him, his mouth hovering just out of reach of yours. ‘Life and death.’

‘I’m afraid I might,’ he replied.

His lips tasted like coffee and sunshine. You lifted your arms to rest them on his shoulders. There was not a single twinge.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Hi, hope you're alright. I came up with a story idea: the reader is married to Gasly's/Daniel's close friend but their marriage is hanging by a thread. The driver invites her to a few races so she can change the environment, they spend some time together and unexpectedly become lovers. And maybe later her husband is trying to fix their marriage but she and the driver can't stop thinking about each other

His Best Man || DR3

A/N: I took some creative liberties with the plot but I think it does this request justice 💕 ps: never condone cheating, it's horrible and this is purely fictional

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, alcohol, cheating, smut WC: 7.6k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Daniel’s Reaction

Dinner with James was a quiet affair, though it shouldn’t have been a surprise. Why would your anniversary be any different when his indifference was the only constant at this point?

You watched as he smiled at his phone, something you hadn’t been able to elicit from him in months, before he locked the device and placed it facedown on the table. The sigh that wanted to exhale from your flared nostrils barely remained silent as you focused on shifting the food around your plate, your appetite gone like the connection to your husband. 

“Daniel sent us some passes to the race in Melbourne next month. I thought we could go, make a little holiday out of it?” 

There was no excitement in your tone, it was more a question borne out of politeness because he would have seen the paddock passes sitting on the kitchen side if he ever looked away from his phone. The blasted device vibrated again and his fork clattered on his plate in his rush to read the incoming message. 

“Well?” you asked as his thumbs flew across his screen. 

“Can’t. Work project is going to keep me busy until the deadline,” he answered without looking up. “Take one of your friends, have a girls trip.”

Friends…those people you never saw anymore because James hadn’t liked them, though he never outright said it, those friends who had warned you that you were marrying a narcissist. 

“It’s our anniversary,” you reminded him. “You know, falls on the same day each year.”

“Mhmm, yeah,” he nodded, clearly not listening. “Sounds good.”

You propped your elbow onto the glass tabletop and dropped your chin onto your palm as a familiar burn of resentment simmered in your soul. “The mailman gave me a pearl necklace.”

“That’s nice. Put it on my credit card.” He reached into his back pocket and tossed his wallet across the table, narrowly missing the glass of rosé. 

You opened it and saw the polaroid from your wedding day no longer sat in the clear card slot but was stuffed behind his drivers licence. You shouldn’t have felt hurt after months of being ignored but the pain still surprised you, almost as much as the condom that you found with his cash. He hadn’t bought a box of condoms in at least three years, not since the wedding when you started trying for a baby - something that was probably best that it didn't happen.

“He must eat a lot of pineapples because it tasted delicious,” you murmured as you took his cash and the platinum credit card too.

James nodded and pushed his empty plate away. “Yeah, tasted good, thanks. Need to finish this project.” He rose from the table with his phone and started to make his way down the hall to his office. “Don’t wait up.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” You had a trip to plan. 

You weren’t going to have a girls weekend but you were going to Melbourne. He may have been James’ friend first, but no one had the ability to turn a bad day (or year) around like Daniel could. 

When you arrived in Perth you hadn’t expected Danny to be the one personally waiting at the airport. It was impossible to miss him with the amount of people that surrounded him, asking for pictures and autographs before he spotted you stepping out of customs. 

You didn’t need to read lips to see him apologising to everyone as he made his way towards you, holding up a large welcome sign for ‘Roo’. You rolled your eyes at the nickname he had given you after one drunken night that ended with you tangled in a hammock, your head poking out of the material like a joey in a kangaroo pouch. You were only grateful he hadn’t nicknamed you Joey since the name had stuck over the years.

Your greeting turned to a peal of laughter as he dropped the sign and swept you into a hug that lifted your feet off the ground to spin you around. 

“I’ve missed you, you beaut!” Danny’s smile was contagious and even when your feet were securely back on the ground he still kept his arms around you. “A shame James can’t come, but we can totally make his jealous as fuck for ditching us. One week, you, me, road trip to Melbourne.”

Day One - Perth to Kalgoorlie “I hope you know where we are going.”

Daniel laughed and just winked from the driver's seat of his Ford Ranger. It had been three hours of driving on the highway and you had not passed one town in the dusty landscape. 

“It’s not far, just down the road a little more,” Danny said for the third time. “We still have half a tank of gas and a crate of Vitamin B, we’ll be fine if we need to camp.”

You quirked an eyebrow up as you looked in the backseat and saw the green box of Victoria Bitter beer strapped with a seatbelt.

“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to camp anywhere,” you scoffed, tucking your knee up as the song changed to another country song from his endless playlist. “Spiders, snakes, dingoes, and your snoring. I think not.”

Daniel laughed and indicated to pull off the road despite there not being another soul within what felt like hundreds of kilometres. 

“I’m sorry I said you snore, please don’t leave me here.”

His laugh only intensified as he turned the engine off and turned to face you. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Roo.”

“Then why have you stopped?” You tested the window but it had powered off with the engine. “It’s a freaking sauna in here.”

“Because you haven’t been yourself all day and there’s no cell reception out here so there’s nothing to distract you.” He took the useless device from your hand and tossed it in the glove compartment. “What’s going on with you and James?”

“Nothing,” you muttered as his brown eyes narrowed. “Seriously, there’s nothing going on with him. We hardly speak anymore and he sleeps in his office when he’s not out of town on another ‘business trip’. It’s just…nothing.”

Daniel’s brows pinched together in confusion as he sucked a lungful of air through his teeth. “But…what the hell happened?”

“I don’t know,” you exclaimed as you threw your hands in the air, just as clueless. “What do you want me to say? That he’s having an affair, or that one day he just stopped caring, or both?”

You turned away as it wasn’t a bead of sweat that rolled down your cheek when you sighed in defeat. Unable to withstand the heat without the air conditioner, you tugged the door handle and checked the dirt for any unwanted animals before jumping down from the running boards. 

Daniel was already getting out his side and circling the bullbars before you could wipe the tears away but the sob you had tried to suppress clawed its way out when he pulled you against his chest. “I’m sorry,” he murmured softly as he rubbed your back and let your tears soak into his shirt. “He can be a bit of a cunt, but I never thought he could do that to you.”

“He did and it’s done,” you admitted with a raspy voice that was still strained from the emotion choking each word. “I moved my stuff out last week, not that he even noticed. I thought I could have a break to get away from it all and deal with a divorce when I get back.”

“That fucking idiot,” Daniel said as he pulled his shirt up to wipe your tears away. “He just lost the best thing in the world and he doesn’t even know it.”

Day Two - Kalgoorlie to Caiguna It was another long day of driving but after the broken sleep spent tossing and turning you weren’t much of a companion. You had eventually drifted off to sleep to the country music that Daniel loved so much and dreamt of crawling through fields of watermelons but the paddock soon turned to mud and you sank under the suffocating weight with it filling your lungs. 

“Hey, it’s alright, you’re alright,” Danny soothed as you startled awake, his quick reflexes throwing his arm out to catch you from hitting the window. You could still feel the filthy fluid on your skin and shivered as you changed the song over and took a shuddering breath. “Bad dream?”

You rolled your shoulders and twisted your stiff neck, groaning at the crick that had come from using the seatbelt as a pillow. “Just weird.”

His eyes darted away from the endless road ahead and saw you trying to massage your neck before he brushed your hand aside. There certainly were perks to his strength training because his fingers were a godsend as they erased the knots that had formed.

“Hmmm, thank you,” you sighed deeply and his lips tipped up at the sound.

“Anytime. Hope you got the rest you needed, there’s a stop ahead and these guys know how to throw down.”

You narrowed your eyes at the horizon that was blurred by heatwaves and tried to see what lay beyond but gave up after a few seconds. “Throw down what?”

“Huh?”

“What are they throwing down?”

“Throw down,” he said slowly as if it would somehow make you understand but you were still confused. “Party, drink, dance. Throw down.”

“Oh, throw down, why didn’t you just say that?”

He laughed at your sarcasm and squeezed your knee. “You could definitely do with a drink or two and loosen up. Then I can get my old Roo back.”

“As long as I’m not expected to sleep in a hammock again.”

The motel was a little rough and run down but it had four walls and the bathroom was clean enough to last one night. Daniel had barely given you enough time to get changed into fresh clothes before he was knocking on your door ready to escort you next door to the bar. Coincidentally, the bar was also the restaurant, service station and grocery store all rolled into one.

You and Danny were by far the youngest people in the place but it didn’t stop the warm welcome from everyone. If any of the patrons knew who he was they hid it well because they treated him just like any other stranger passing through.

“Where ya from?”

“Where ya headed?”

“Watch out for ol’ Deloris, she’ll try take a bite out of ya.”

The questions came in quick succession and you looked around the room trying to figure out which of the ladies was Deloris only to find the name on a plaque beneath a huge crocodile head suspended from the rafters.

“Fuck me,” you gasped as you took a step back, bumping into Danny as he laughed along with the bartender.

“Gets ‘em every time,” he chuckled as he placed two large bottles of beer onto the well worn bartop. “Looks like ya sheila could use something a little stronger.”

Daniel’s large hands landed on your shoulders and started to massage the tense muscles. “There’s no crocs ‘round here, isn’t enough water,” he whispered to calm your nerves. “Deloris was probably a pet.”

“Who in their right mind would keep that as a pet?”

“Probably someone not in their right mind.” His warm laugh tickled your ear before he turned you back to the bartender to grab your drink. “Cheers.”

Daniel found a small table in the surprisingly busy restaurant space and it appeared as if most of the locals were keeping the economy running in the place. It was strange to think that the faded walls decorated with old photographs of the glory days gone by felt more homely than the one you had built with James.

You could easily see yourself placing a coin on the pool table to save your place in the queue or ordering the fresh market fish off the menu without questioning how it was fresh so far from the sea. You could see yourself walking in to see the same faces at the end of a long week and the barman would listen to your complaints as he poured your usual without needing to be asked.

You took a generous gulp of beer that Daniel swore was ‘the good stuff’ and hummed at the hoppy flavour as it quenched the thirst that hadn’t stopped since you stepped foot in the country. It was no wonder why they liked their beers so much, they needed whatever they could to cool their bodies down.

“I like this place,” you said with a smile that Danny returned with pride.

“Thought you might, and tomorrow’ll be even better.”

“Where are we going tomorrow?”

Daniel shook his head and occupied his lips with the bottle so he could keep you in the dark a little longer. You didn’t mind this type of surprise, knowing he wanted to make you smile and was planning everything could to make that happen on the road trip.

The doldrum tune that was playing from the corner of the bar was interrupted as a coin was slotted into the jukebox and Josh Turner’s Your Man came on the machine. Couples around the bar and restaurant left their belongings and made their way to the dance floor. Where you came from no one would do that, and if they did their belongings wouldn’t be there when they returned.

Beneath the table you could feel Daniel’s foot tapping in time to the beat and his fingers drummed on the long neck he lifted to his lips. He caught the longing in your eyes as you watched a grey haired man holding his wife, slowly swaying together like you had imagined you would with James in 40 years.

“Come on, Roo,” he invited as he pushed his chair back and held out his hand. His palm was cold and damp from the beer bottle but it was refreshing on your skin with the heat that still lingered with the setting sun. Leading you to the edge of the dance floor he pulled you close and curled an arm around your waist as he started to sing along. “I've been thinking 'bout this all day long, never felt a feeling quite this strong, I can't believe how much it turns me on, just to be your man. I know you know the words, don’t be shy.”

It was impossible to feel embarrassed with him, even if you butchered the song he would still smile like he was listening to his favourite artist live. So, you placed your hand in his and the other rested on his shoulder as you started to sway and sing along.

“There's no hurry, don't you worry, we can take our time. Come a little closer, let's go over, what I had in mind.”

Daniel let go of you and your head fell back with a laugh as he spun you away and pulled you back. You could only giggle as you returned out of step and ended with your back to his chest instead of face to face but he adapted quickly and held your waist instead.

“Baby lock the door and turn the lights down low,” his voice was deep and rich in your ear, intimate and full of promise that hit you unexpectedly. “And put some music on that's soft and slow. Baby we ain't got no place to go, I hope you understand.”

You were glad you weren’t facing him as his words affected you in a way you couldn’t remember feeling for over a year. The very air seemed to thicken in your lungs as you felt every inch of his body fitting against yours. You could feel the veins on his hands as you laced your fingers with his and guided them down to your hips.

This was the first time the lines had blurred throughout the years of friendship and you allowed yourself to feel wanted, if only for a song.

Day Three - Caiguna to Yalata The pounding in your head turned out to be banging on your door and you somehow found the strength to answer it. Bright sunlight flooded in through the crack and you groaned as you covered your eyes.

“Good morning sunshine,” Daniel greeted brightly as he stepped inside. “It’s 7am on another stunning day here in Straya.” 

You playfully shoved Danny and he rolled with it to splay across your bed, the blankets still tucked in from collapsing atop them last night. 

“7am is too early,” you complained as you climbed into the small space he left on the twin sized bed, curling onto your side and throwing your arm over your face to block out the light. “Let me sleep.”

“You can sleep in the car.” His fingers danced teasingly over your ribs and you jutted your elbow back into his hard abs before he could properly tickle you. “Ouch, you’re not very nice in the morning.”

“This isn’t morning, this is still night,” you grumbled as his arm draped over your waist instead.

“The sun is up.”

“Tell that to the people of Norway. It can be sunny at midnight there.”

You could feel him silently laughing at you as it shook the bed. “But we aren’t in Norway.”

“Shh,” you murmured as you snuggled closer to him. “Let me go back to sleep.”

“Fine,” he conceded, making some adjustments to the pillow before shoving his arm under your head, “but just because I’m comfortable now.”

The hangover was gone by the time you woke naturally and you felt refreshed as you stretched lazily. Rolling over in Daniel’s arms you found his eyes closed and his lips parted slightly with soft snores. You raised your head a little to see the alarm clock that was probably considered vintage in the 80’s and saw it was well past check out time. Luckily it didn't appear that the No Vacancy sign was ever used, so there was no rush to leave.

The small movement was enough to wake him and your stomach clenched at the smile that brightened your day more than the blistering sun outside when his honey brown eyes opened. 

“I can’t believe this,” you tutted as you let him pull you closer against his chest. “I was ready to go at 7 and you just went back to sleep…so lazy.”

“How rude of me,” he chuckled. “I’m sure I can find a way to make it up to you.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Woah,” you whispered breathlessly as the truck bounced to a stop on the hard sand of the tidal line. “It’s beautiful.”

“Isn’t it just,” Daniel grinned as he opened his door and looked across at you. “Coming in?”

You bit your lip as your eyes feasted on the picturesque scene. Big barrel waves crashing out in the bay and white sand welcoming bare feet on the shore, it was a sight pretty enough to make angels cry. Hopping out, you rounded the four wheel drive ute and sat on the metal bar running across the front, distracted by the breathtaking view. “What about sharks?”

Daniel’s door shut and you turned to the sound in time to see him pulling his singlet over his head and tossing it through the backseat window before unbuckling his belt and shoving his jeans off too. It was impossible not to stare at the hard planes of his chest or the definition of his abs, and then the thick thighs that were barely covered by his boxers. 

“The chances of a shark attack are less than…” His words trailed off as he looked up and caught you blatantly staring, his teeth sparkling as a big smile grew on his face. “The view is spectacular, am I right or am I right?”

“You or the beach?”

“Spectacular is pretty high in the standards of compliments,” he said as he started to flex his arms, “but if you think I’m spectacular then I would accept that.”

You closed your eyes from the harsh sunlight and tipped your head back to feel the rays on your cheeks as you laughed. “You’ve never had to worry about your ego, have you?”

He sent you a playful pout as he walked towards you, his thongs flicking up golden sand behind him with each step. “It would take a hit if you didn’t come swim with me.”

You hadn’t realised quite how many types of heat there was until that moment. There was the heat of the bonnet from hours of driving beneath you, the heat of the sun in the sky above and the heat of his hands that landed on your knees. It was the heat of his hands that seeped into your blood and spread throughout your body, increasing to boiling point as they slowly ran up your thighs.

Your knees unconsciously parted for him and he stepped into the space so you were eye to eye and his tongue rolled across his bottom lip. “There’s nets out past the reef, you’ll be safe with me.”

You took a sharp intake of air as his fingers caught the hem of your shirt and his knuckles grazed your skin. “Well?” he asked quietly. “Trust me?”

You swallowed deeply as you nodded and he rewarded you with another of those smiles you had come to love before he lifted your shirt up and left it on the hood of the truck so he could grab you around the waist and haul you over his shoulder.

“Daniel!” you yelped as the world was suddenly upside down and he kicked his thongs off before jogging towards the water. “Don’t you dare dunk me.”

You expected the next sudden shift when the water reached his knees but as quick as he tossed you up off his shoulder he caught you again with a booming laugh. His arms were bound around your thighs and your hands planted on his shoulders as you looked down at his amused face. 

“I wouldn’t dare,” he promised as he eased his grip, your body sliding down his until you were once more eye to eye. “I just want to make you smile.”

Day Four - Yalata to Port Lincoln  As much as you had found yourself enjoying the historical rich motels in the outback, you were just as happy to find the accommodation in Port Lincoln was a five star resort on the waterfront. The sun was just starting to set when you arrived at the hotel and checked into the two bedroom suite with a gorgeous view of the harbour. 

“I never knew driving could be so exhausting,” you said as you dropped into the swing chair on the large balcony. 

“Don’t worry, tomorrow’s a rest day so you can recover from all that driving you didn’t even do,” Daniel pointed out with a smirk, taking the spot beside you and taking over the leg exercise of swinging it back and forth. “We can do whatever you want, just can’t miss the boat to Adelaide tomorrow night.”

It was nice spending so much time alone with Daniel on the road, comfortable conversations rolling like the tires on the highway, but a change of pace would be welcomed. “What is there to do?”

“Hmm,” he frowned and stood up. “Let me go see.”

Daniel disappeared out of the room and returned a few minutes later with a stack of brochures that he had taken from the tourist stands in reception and you met him on the couch inside where the pleasant offshore wind couldn’t whip them away. Together you flicked through them, separating them into three piles of yes, no and maybe. 

“Sure you don’t wanna cage dive?” he teased as you threw that particular brochure across the room. “You could get up close and personal with a Great White. Once in a lifetime opportunity right there.”

You snorted and shook your head. “Once in a lifetime because it would kill me. Not happening.”

“Here, that’s a yes for you.” 

You took the advert for a farm park where you could hand feed the animals and added it to the yes pile. “Maybe next year we can go to your farm…unless James gets you in the divorce.” Your lips turned down at the idea and you realised you had hardly thought of your husband, but now that you had he had disturbed your peace even though he was thousands of miles away.

Daniel reached over the coffee table to the stationary set, grabbing a hotel engraved pen before pulling his shoe off. “It’s just like Toy Story,” he said as he waved the pen in your face. “Put your name on me first.”

You managed a small laugh as you took the pen and clicked the nib out. “Should tattoo it so it doesn’t wash off.”

Daniel squirmed on the couch as the pen tickled his foot and you grabbed his ankle so he couldn’t move too much but he started to giggle uncontrollably as the nib ran over his instep. “How long does it take to write Roo?”

You laughed and kept going before he wretched his foot free and crossed his leg over his knee to see your full first and last name on it - maiden name, not married.

“For legal purposes,” you said as you clicked the pen nib away and tossed it on the table.

“Fair enough.” He grinned at the writing everytime he looked at his crossed leg and draped his arm over the back of the cushion as you returned to the seat. “You can come by the farm anytime, don’t have to wait for next year.”

“Except for shearing season,” you smirked as you remembered that mistake where you were roped into helping the jackaroos round the sheep up and shave them. “I have no interest in losing all feeling in my arms again.”

“Earned that beer though,” he said with a chuckle as he started to massage your neck. “I was so proud, you weren’t afraid to get stuck in and help. I kinda thought you were a bit of a princess ‘til then.”

Your nose crinkled at the endearment James used to call you. “Well I’m glad I got rid of that image. But, out of curiosity, what do you think I am now?”

The smile could only be described as devilish as his hand spread across your nape and guided you closer to him. His eyes held you captivated and his lips parted with his answer but it was silenced by the sound of ringtone breaking the tension and like a puppet whose strings were cut he fell back into his seat. The emotion in his eyes was erased with a blink and you reached blindly for your phone, answering the call without needing to see who it was from.

“Hey, isn’t it like midnight?” you asked as you lifted the device to your ear but there was no answer at the other end. “Hello? James?”

“Fuck, yeah, just like that baby. God, Laura, you’re so perfect.” The phone slipped from your grasp as you heard the muted but unmistakable sound of James’ voice.

Daniel frowned as he picked the phone up from your lap and lifted it to his ear, shock registering before it transformed into anger and he hung up the phone without breaking the screen with the force of it. He discarded the phone and pulled you into his lap in the same instance but you didn’t hear what he said as you buried your face in his neck and grappled onto him for dear life.

Day Five - Port Lincoln to Adelaide You didn’t feel like doing anything other than staying in bed and sleeping the day away but Daniel wouldn’t let you waste another minute of your time because of James. In a way you could understand the logic and as a big ‘fuck you’ to him you were going to get your shit together and go and have fun.

Daniel worked even harder to get a smile or a laugh out of you and kept his camera on hand to capture the moments he succeeded. The animal farm did make you feel a little better and holding a joey as you bottle fed it was finally enough to break through the invasive cloud that had hung over you. 

“Roo and Roo Two,” Danny commented as he moved around taking a million shots of you.

“Need a hand?” a passing couple offered after watching Daniel try and extend his arm enough to get in the shot too.

“That’d be a dream,” Daniel nodded and he handed his camera over before sitting down beside you and curling his arm around your waist. The joey was almost asleep from drinking all of the milk and Daniel grinned at you as he stroked its neck. “Looks like you when you sleep.”

You grinned back, forgetting about the camera. “Cute, right?”

“Yup, that’s, uh, exactly what I was thinking.” He cleared his throat and scratched his neck awkwardly before laughing when your elbow connected with his ribs. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. You’re a cutie-tootie when you sleep…it’s another story when you’re awake.”

His laugh was loud enough to wake the joey when you nudged him again with an offended look. “What? You’re beautiful when you’re awake.”

“That’s totally what you meant,” you said sarcastically before rolling your eyes. “Just look at the camera and smile like a normal person.”

He tipped his head to yours and smiled brightly for the camera, but he couldn’t resist whispering, “Bold of you to assume I know how to be normal.”

Day Six - Adelaide to Portland It took a moment to recollect the events from the night before and it wasn’t because of the many wine tastings you had gone to around the Port Lincoln area. Perhaps that had a little bit to do with it, but mostly it was because you had fallen asleep in the truck to the gentle rocking motion of the ferry but now you were tucked into an unfamiliar bed. 

“Danny?” you called out as you tossed the covers back and found you were still in yesterday's clothes. You could hear some sounds outside of the room but Daniel hadn't answered your call so you picked up the coat rack from the corner and quickly opened the door.

“Jesus Christ.” Daniel jumped back as you waved the long pole his way. “What the fuck?”

You sagged in the doorway and dropped the makeshift weapon to clutch your chest. “You gave me a fright.”

“I gave you a fright?” he asked incredulously. “You gave me a fucking heart attack. What were you going to do with this?” He swiped the coat rack off the floor and couldn’t stop himself from laughing at it. “Please don’t give me a concussion before the race.”

“But any other time is good?” you quipped as your lips tipped up now that your heart rate was returning to normal. “How did I get to bed?”

He flexed his arms with a cocky grin. “I tried to wake you up but you were dead to the world. And now that sleeping beauty is awake, how about we go out for breakfast? There’s meant to be a huge market that sells a bit of everything that we could check out after.”

You held a finger up as you looked down at your clothes and heard your stomach rumble, answering the question of whether to shower or not first. “Just give me one minute to change.”

Daniel had obviously been awake for a while being an early bird so he was ready and waiting at the door when you reappeared, his hand held out and waiting for yours. The lines between friendship and more were getting blurrier each day but it no longer felt wrong as you laced your fingers with his and stepped outside.

“Are you limping?” you asked with a frown as he kept his weight on one side the entire walk to the market.

“No, just got pins and needles in my foot.”

An hour later he was still favouring his right foot so you steered him back towards the hotel so he didn’t make it worse before you got to Melbourne. “You should probably see a doctor.”

Daniel dropped onto the couch and stole the remote to choose a movie, patting the space beside him so he could kiss your temple after joining him. “You worry too much, I’ll be fine.”

“You’re quiet,” Daniel commented as he turned off the tv. “What’s got you thinking so loud?”

You chewed your bottom lip as he called you out. He was too observant, or you were too easy to read. “It’s our last night together.”

“You’re still going to stay with me for the weekend, right?” He shifted in his seat to face you and stroked your cheek with the back of his hand as he waited for an answer.

You nodded and he relaxed a little only to freeze as you spoke, “But you’ll be busy, we don’t have time to hang out.”

“I’ll always make time for you,” he promised as he pulled you into his lap. “This week with you has been…spectacular.”

“Spectacular is pretty high in the standards of compliments,” you reminded him, much to his amusement.

His smile softened as his fingers trailed along your jaw and down your neck to trace your collarbone. “Which is why it’s reserved for very, very good things.” 

You were almost certain he could hear your heart racing like thunderous hoof beats in a quiet desert. The blood was pumping around your body carrying the oxygen you needed to replace but couldn’t seem to draw the air into your lungs as he leaned forward.

“You were his best man,” you whispered with the last of your breath as you felt the heat of his lips so close to yours.

“But I’ve always been the best man for you.”

The first kiss was softer than the wind, tentative and testing as you learned how your body responded to the caress before hunger yearned for something deeper. A deep moan rumbled from Daniel’s chest as your tongue rolled across his lips that parted for you and his arms encircled you to hold you tight, as if he were clinging to the spell so it couldn’t be broken.

“Please, Danny,” you sighed longingly as his hands slipped under the summer dress you wore and his thumbs teased you with painfully slow circles on your thighs. “You have never been a patient man, don’t start now.”

His quiet laugh heated the skin of your neck that he kissed with such tenderness you wanted to cry. It had been so long since you had been touched in such a way that you couldn’t wait any longer.

“Please,” you begged as you rolled your hips over his cock that was straining against his shorts. You moaned as the hard length brushed over your panties and a reciprocal sound came from Daniel before he stood up abruptly. 

“Fuck, I wanted to take my time with you,” he murmured against your lips as he blindly walked to the closest bedroom. 

“Later,” you promised. “Right now I need you to get me out of this goddamn dress and fuck me.”

Day Seven - Portland to Melbourne “Oh, fuck off,” you growled as your phone rang on the bedside drawers. You rolled back into Daniel’s embrace and wrapped your arms around his waist as he saw at the voicemail notification before it started to ring again. 

“He’s just going to keep calling,” Daniel said with a sigh that turned to a yawn after the late night spent getting to know each other's bodies intimately. “You’ll have to talk to him at some point.”

“I know, I just want to savour this moment before the drama starts. I can’t remember the last time I woke up like this, happy and content. I’m not ready for that to end.”

“What makes you think I’ll let this end?” he teased as he rolled you onto your back and trailed wet kisses down your neck. “I might just write my name on your foot too and call you mine.”

The warmth of the blankets disappeared as Daniel made his way down your body, kissing the entire length of you before settling between your legs as the phone rang again.

“Answer it,” Daniel ordered as his fingertips delicately traced the stretch marks across your hips, committing every inch of your body to his memory. “Or he won’t go away.”

You tried to find any hint of resentment in his face as you reached for the phone but there was only an air of smugness as he made himself comfortable, resting his head on your thigh.

“I think we have been robbed,” James said without even a hello as you answered the call on speakerphone. “Everything in the guest room is gone.”

A huff of amusement bubbled at the image of him standing in the empty room, his face crumpled in confusion as he scratched his head. “It’s at my apartment.”

“What apartment? What are you on about?”

“The apartment I rented before I moved out two weeks ago. The one I will be living in when I get back.” Daniel’s fingers traced the waistband of your panties and your breath hitched as they slipped beneath the lace.

“Bullshit,” he laughed but there was a hint of uncertainty in the sound. “Just come home and talk about this before you make any rash decisions. I know I have been busy with work lately-"

“More like busy with Laura.” The air that hissed between your teeth could have been mistaken for anger but it was entirely from the devilish look in Daniel’s eyes as he bit the soft skin along your inner thigh.

“Laura’s my assistant.”

The laugh turned to a gasp as Daniel pushed the lace aside and ran his tongue through your folds, his eyes rolling up to watch your reaction, the phone falling from your hand as you reached for his hair.  You tugged the strands as his tongue circled your clit and you couldn’t stop the moan from escaping as you arched your back at the growing pleasure.

“Fuck, yeah, just like that baby,” you begged shamelessly and he chuckled as he felt your walls flutter around the fingers he curled into your cunt. “God, Daniel, you’re so perfect.”

A round of expletives filled the air as James heard a real orgasm take over your body but they fell silent as he realised why the words seemed so familiar. You weren’t just accusing him of fucking Laura, you knew. And you were using his best friend to show him.

“Some friend you are, sack of shit,” James growled as you whimpered with the aftershocks of the orgasm.

“Some husband you were,” Daniel snickered as he tore your panties off and climbed up your body to kiss you, sharing the taste of your pleasure on his tongue before he picked up the phone. “You lost the best thing you had, mate. I won’t make the same mistake you did.”

Daniel ended the call stared down at you in wonder as a slow smile started to spread across his face. “I don’t think he will be calling back.”

It may have been the high of the orgasm, or it could have been the knowledge that after a year of enduring the decaying marriage, but you were free - either way, you were giddy with joy as you wrapped your legs around Daniel’s hips and pulled him closer. 

“I can’t believe you did that,” you giggled as you hooked your fingers into his boxers and pushed them over his hips. 

“He had to know who you belong to now, he had his chance.” His voice was pure decadence in your ear as he ran the tip of his cock through your folds before stretching you wide as he thrust forward and stilled. He gave you a moment to adjust to his size and brushed a gentle kiss across your lips before captivating you with his golden brown eyes. “Still want to know what I think you are?”

Your fingers ran softly down his back, feeling each bump on his spine right down to the twin dimples at the base. “Tell me,” you whispered as your hands grasped the firm muscles of his ass, your nails digging in to spur him into moving.

“Mine.”

Melbourne Grand Prix - Race Day The screams of Daniel’s home crowd were intoxicating and you couldn’t help cupping your hands around your mouth and joining in as he parked front and centre of the pitlane having won his home race. Climbing out of the car, stood atop the halo and threw his fists in the air before tearing his helmet off and holding it up too, tapping his finger on the large number 3.

You couldn’t help but notice how he still favoured his right foot after he jumped off the car and rushed towards his team, grappling them into strong hugs that probably crushed the air out of their lungs - not that they cared as they ran on adrenaline after the race.

“Wow, Daniel, what a race! You were absolutely flying!” the interviewer praised after he took his microphone and joined her in front of the Sky Sports camera. “Looking at some of those high speed corners, it looked like you were fighting to keep the race line.”

“I couldn’t brake hard if I tried,” he laughed and combed his sweaty hair back through his fingers. “Got a fresh tattoo and it’s still a little tender.”

“On your foot?” Naomi asked as she pointed to his Red Bull boot. 

“Yeah, glad it wasn’t on my throttle one or I don’t think I’d be up here,” he joked.

“I’m certain I am asking on behalf of everyone when I say, can we see it?” A cheer from the crowd confirmed her statement and your fingers gripped the metal barrier as goosebumps broke over your skin.

“No way,” you mumbled under your breath as you shook your head to get rid of the ridiculous thought you had.

“Sure, I’ll need this off for my shoey anyway,” he said as he pulled the boot off along with his sock. Turning around, he bent his knee so the sole of his foot could be seen and looked over his shoulder, grinning as he found you at the barrier with his team. 

“Aww, look at that, it’s adorable,” Naomi gushed as she saw the basic outline of a kangaroo on the sole of his foot. “What a way to pay homage to your nation!”

You bit your lip from smiling too hard when he started to laugh as she completely misunderstood what the picture meant. “Of course!” 

He excused himself quickly and hopped towards you, not wanting to get the days old tattoo dirty on the ground. 

“You’re actually insane,” you gasped as you slapped his chest playfully, still in disbelief that he had the word Roo tattooed on his foot beneath the picture. 

He leaned in closer so he could talk without fear of being overheard and you inhaled the purely masculine scent of him enveloping you as his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “It was your idea, and if you didn’t sleep so much you would have been awake to come and get it done with me.”

You rolled your eyes but you couldn’t keep the smile off your face as his hot hands came to rest on top of yours. “I must admit, I’m a little disappointed that it isn’t my full name.”

“Do you know how ticklish that was? I would have wet myself trying to get your whole name.”

You smirked at him, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes deepening with his growing smile. “That sounds like a you problem.”

“Does anyone have a marker pen?” Daniel asked loudly and about half a dozen were thrust his way in an instant. 

“What are you doing?” you asked as you took a step back but the crowd was so tightly packed there was nowhere to go.

“Foot,” he said as he tapped the barrier, “up. It’s not a tattoo…yet.”

“You’re insane,” you laughed as you shook your head but instead he dropped to his knees and caught your ankle under the barrier.

“And you’re mine, I just need to…stop wriggling,” he complained as he pulled your shoe off and bit the cap off the marker before inking your sole. Twisting your foot about you saw his driver number covering the skin and bit your lip at the self-satisfied smirk on his face as he flipped the pen in his hand. “There, that’s better.”

“Is it?” you joked as you slipped your shoe back on. “I would have said spectacular.”

You were always surprised that his smile could somehow brighten, even when it seemed like it couldn’t possibly grow any more. But his smile grew as stepped closer and his hand reached for the back of your neck, pulling you to meet him as much as the barrier allowed.

“Spectacular?” he echoed before crushing his lips to yours until you were breathless and forgot where you were. “Yeah, that’s more like it.”

Daniel's Road Trip Playlist: Cruise - Florida Georgia Line Watermelon Crawl - Tracy Byrd Your Man - Josh Turner You Make It Easy - Jason Aldean Right Now the Best - Zach Bryan Over For You - Morgan Evans Live Like You Were Dying - Tim McGraw Die A Happy Man - Thomas Rhett Butterflies - Kacey Musgraves

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