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holllandtrash · 9 months

Text

gone | daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader (part 3 to fragile line)

I just know You're not gone You can't be gone

The 2023 season is painful, its challenging and Daniel is still very much in your life in all the ways he shouldn't be.

word count: 9.9k (i dont even know how) warnings/tags: angst, heartbreak, all the painful stuff

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Do what?”

You exhaled a breath that made your entire body shake, “You know what, Daniel.”

Of course he did. For the last few months, he was experiencing the exact same things you were. The uncertainty, the tension, the sleepless nights, god you were so tired.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be you and him. You were supposed to be a team.

So much went wrong, too much. Daniel stood in front of you now as you asked yourself if you were too far gone.

And you both knew the answer to that one.

That first race back in Hungary…you were a mess. You probably would have been a little bit more put together had Oliver not pointed out the lineup for the driver’s press conference.

“You’re kidding,” your jaw dropped, staring at the list. “Who’s smart idea was it to put myself and Daniel together?”

“This is Formula 1,” Oliver sounded apologetic, he did feel bad about the situation. “The FIA doesn’t care if he’s your ex.”

The FIA didn’t care but the entire world watching did. Speculations on what would happen, where you would sit, what would be asked flooded social media.

When you showed up on Thursday, Lando patted your back and told you to breathe.

“Easier said than done, Lando. I don’t see you being forced to sit with your ex.”

He chuckled at that because you had a point. “Look, I love Danny, but don’t let him get to you, alright?”

Originally, Lando did try to switch the sessions. He talked to Zak, PR, everyone, just because he knew how much you were dreading it. But alas, it was you who was now standing outside the media room, leaning against the wall as you waited to go in and get these next twenty minutes over and done with.

Your plan was to just say as little as possible to everyone. You were banking on the fact that the attention would be solely on Daniel and his return, and that was made clear when he walked into the hallway, getting warm greetings from other drivers and those standing nearby.

He had absolutely no reason to stand next to you, not when there were about ten other people who would have been dying for a few seconds of his time.

Daniel cleared his throat, hands behind his back as he leaned against the wall as well.

You counted six seconds before he opened his mouth, speaking to you for the first time since the awards dinner months ago.

“Not even a hello?” He asked, but he wasn’t the least bit surprised that you were completely avoiding looking in his direction. You ignored him and Daniel laughed to himself at your lack of response.

The door opened again and you took a breath of relief when you realised you were about to be called into the press conference. Just get it over and done with.

Daniel didn’t have the same priorities and spoke up again, “I just want to know-”

You promptly cut him off, you had to. “Look I think it would be best if we just-” god this hurt, you couldn’t even look him in the eye. “Let’s just not talk, okay?”

You pushed yourself away from the wall when one of the media assistants handed each of you a mic and gave you the thumbs up that it was time for the five of you to head out onto the couch. Daniel quickly followed behind you, voice low enough that you could hear but it was unlikely anyone else could.

“So that’s it? You have nothing to say to me?” He asked. “For the person who got you into Formula 1?”

You as well spoke in a harsh whisper, “You may have fast tracked my career but I could have made it to Formula 1 without your help.”

You liked to believe that was true. Was it? You’d never know now.

“But you did take my help,” he pointed out, a groan slipping past his lips as he sat down on the couch. You made sure to distance yourself from him, leaving room for Carlos to sit between you. Even still, Daniel wasn’t done. “You took my help, my resources and then my seat.”

“And what did you do?” You hissed, arms crossed over your chest as different media personnel started to slowly trickle into the room, the lucky ones who claimed the first row were probably close enough to hear you and Daniel.

“Pardon?” He turned his head towards you. Carlos instinctively leaned further back, not wanting to be in the middle of this conversation, but watching and listening intently, as were the other drivers.

“What did you do, hmm?” You repeated, eyes scanning the growing crowd before you snapped your head in his direction.

For a moment, this feud didn’t matter. Your heart skipped a beat, like it had the hundreds, thousands, of other times when his eyes met yours. The same brown eyes that for months you allowed yourself to get lost in. One look from him and everything around you faded to black. Nothing else seemed important when Daniel was looking at you, giving you his undivided attention.

But this moment wasn’t like all of those other ones.

You snapped out of it, returning to your original thought, much to Carlos’ dismay as he thought you guys were done and had started to relax in between you.

“We both replaced a driver before their contract was up, Daniel.” You stated, wanting to point out the hypocrisy in his actions. “You are no better than me. We did the exact same thing.”

“It wasn’t the same and you know it,” Daniel retorted, not skipping a beat. He had those words lined up for weeks now, waiting for the chance to say them because there was no way in hell you weren’t going to point out the similarities in your actions.

But Daniel was right. It wasn’t the same. The biggest difference being, you were in love with Daniel when you signed that contract with McLaren, and he was in love with you.

It wasn’t just a driver screwing over another driver. You drove a wedge between the two of you.

You had the thought to stand up and walk out. The press conference hadn’t officially started yet, the last few reporters were just finding their seats. You could say you’re ill, something came up, really any excuse to get out of here and away from Daniel’s harsh stare.

Don’t let him get to you. Lando’s reminder floated to the front of your mind and you forced yourself to just sit back and look at the small crowd instead. It was clear to everyone who even glanced your way that you did not want to be sitting there, but thankfully Tom Clarkson got the session up and running.

Of course Daniel was the star. Tom had questions about his return, about his short break, about being back with familiar faces. Daniel answered them all with such ease, the familiar heartwarming grin on his face that you couldn’t bear to look at.

You zoned out, really, arms crossed in front of your chest as you tried to ignore the double standards coming from your right. You doubted Daniel was going to get as much hate online as you had gotten. No one was asking him how he felt about taking another’s seat, everyone was just happy he was back.

“And Y/N, onto you-”

You snapped your head up, plastering on your best smile.

“Last year you finished quite high in Hungary in Formula 2 and after your best finish out in Silverstone, you must feel quite confident going into this weekend?”

You lifted the mic up to your lips, “Yes and no, you know the car’s upgrades are proving to be paying off and we’re hoping to use them to our advantage this weekend but one can never be too confident. As a team we’ll be fighting to be at the front again but in the back of our minds we know that everyone else is doing the same.”

Tom nodded, content with that answer, “And is it nice to have another familiar face on the grid? Daniel acted as a sort of mentor for you during your time in F2, did he not?”

You tensed up and next to you, Carlos felt it. He nudged his arm against yours, a subtle move of encouragement. Carlos, like most of the drivers, knew how uncomfortable the situation was for all involved.

But you couldn’t process the kind gesture. Not when you could practically feel Daniel staring at you, burning holes into the side of your head as he waited for your response.

“I think, yeah a lot of people are probably happy to welcome him back,” you spoke quietly, and not at all convincing. But hey, at least you removed yourself from the answer and gave a general response. One that no one could flip on you.

Tom tried, though, “But personally, what’s going through your mind right now?”

You had so much media training. You knew the proper answer would be something along the lines of how Daniel is a great asset to the sport and how the grid is better with him. Nothing personal, but just facts the general public could agree with. You knew what to say.

But you scoffed instead, “Why aren’t you asking the other drivers how they feel?”

Max spoke up from the opposite end of the couch, “It’s great having Daniel back.”

You shot him a quick, yet thankful, smile. While he was good friends with Daniel, anyone on that couch could see how that question was only given to you because of your history with the Australian. And this press conference was supposed to be about motorsport, about the racing coming up.

You stayed quiet for the rest of it and as soon as it ended you bolted out of that room.

Unfortunately, so did Daniel.

He caught up to you with ease, “Hold up, Y/N, I want to talk.”

Daniel reached for your arm and you pulled it out of his grasp as you turned around to face him, “I don’t think there’s anything left to say. No, you said plenty last year. What was it, exactly? Something about how taking your seat before your contract was even up was the worst thing I could have possibly done? I’m not going to sit there and listen to everyone praise you for coming back when you dragged my name through the dirt for the exact same fucking move. I’m not going to listen to a single thing you have to say, knowing you’re the biggest hypocrite this sport has ever seen but won’t admit it.”

Daniel huffed out a short breath. For a second, you thought he was going to apologise, but that thought quickly left when his forehead creased, his jaw tightening, “Sometimes you gotta burn a few bridges in this industry, but you figured that out all on your own, didn’t you?”

You shook your head, taking a few more steps backwards as heavy sarcasm dripped from your tongue, “Nice to have you back, Daniel.”

It really was anything but nice. Not when that entire race was focused on how you and Daniel interacted in the paddock- or the lack of interaction was probably a better way to phrase it. Everyone knew you two to be connected at the hip. Now you were turning around and walking in the opposite direction to avoid him.

The next race was worse. Spa. It was a challenging track already, you knew this going into the practice sessions. You were prepared for a difficult weekend.

What you weren’t prepared for was leaving the garage towards the end of Q1 to set a lap time, only to be blocked by Daniel before you could cross the finish line. He slowed down before the straight, like many drivers did before giving it all they had on their way to start a flying lap.

But Daniel didn’t speed up like you expected him to. He kept you behind him for as long as he could before shifting gears and taking off. When it was your turn to cross the line and get your time started, you heard the call come in from the garage.

“Times up,” your engineer, Ronnie, said through the radio. “You didn’t cross the line in time.”

Once that timer hit 0, no one was allowed to start a new lap. Every other driver made it across in time, but Daniel’s little move kept you from throwing your hat into the ring for Q2.

You embarrassingly made your way back around the track, pulling into the pit lane to park in the garage. It wasn’t long before other drivers followed, but they had all set lap times. Climbing out of the car, you noticed that Daniel didn’t make it through either.

Serves him right, you thought.

God, you wanted to give him a piece of your mind.

Right on time, you watched on the screen as Daniel dove into the pit lane. You ignored the calls from Ronnie and Oliver, not a single thought in your mind except to ask Daniel what his problem was.

Oliver knew what you were doing as soon as you stepped out of the garage. You ripped your helmet off and shoved it into his hands as he hurried to walk at your pace. Your eyes were set on the AlphaTauri garage just up ahead and you could hear Oliver warning you, telling you to just turn around and go back to McLaren but the second you saw Daniel get out of his car, you snapped.

“What the hell was that?” You asked, eyeing him up from where he stood at the garage opening.

Daniel wasn’t the least bit surprised to see you, but he did stand up straighter, already anticipating whatever you had to say to him.

“You’re a prick, you know that?” Your insult did little to offend him.

“It's not my fault you left the garage late,” Daniel shrugged, taking no responsibility for your inability to set a lap time.

“It’s completely your fault for slowing down more than necessary.”

“I didn’t want to run into traffic.”

“You fucked up my qualifying, Daniel.”

You felt Oliver’s hand on your shoulder. He wasn’t trying to pull you away, but the touch was to get your attention. Aside from AlphaTauri crew members watching this interaction, there was also a camera pointed directly at the two of you, streaming live to F1TV and whatever else broadcast that chose to air it.

Daniel wasn’t as concerned about his media appearance, stepping forward the slightest bit so you were only inches apart.

“If I were you, sweets, I wouldn’t be blaming your problems on the person who got you into this sport.”

You were so close to losing it on him for that comment. You probably would have, had he not thrown in his old nickname for you. Only it wasn’t sweet anymore. There was a distaste on his tongue as he said it, you heard it. He only said it to throw you off, to remind you that he no longer cared for you the way he used to. He was using it against you now.

Daniel saw the way you froze, completely losing your train of thought and he used it to his advantage to walk away from this conversation. He was happy to get the last word in and all you could do was drop your head and walk as close to Oliver as humanly possible as you made your way back to McLaren.

The altercation was heavily split down the middle by all who watched. Some people agreed that Daniel slowed down purposely to keep you from crossing the line in time to start a lap. They also agreed that he should have owned up and apologised for it, saying that it wasn’t in his character to leave another driver so defeated after something that was clearly his fault.

Other people agreed that it was your fault for leaving the garage too late, taking Daniel’s side. They said that it wasn’t very mature of you to confront him like that, or to swear at him. It only added to the conversation of how women weren’t ready to have a place in Formula 1.

Your PR manager advised you to put out a statement about it, an apology. You ignored her advice. In your opinion, the only person who had to apologise was Daniel.

Of course he didn’t, though.

Which meant you didn’t apologise when after the summer, In Zandvoort, you braked a little early when Daniel was behind you. You played it off saying you anticipated the turn too early. Daniel happily complained about you in the media pen when he was forced into the grass and then ultimately the barrier, forcing his race to end early. Social media blew up, like usual, feeding into this childish feud.

That’s how it went for most all, of the races. It wasn’t as though you were purposely trying to ruin his weekends, nor was it his goal to ruin yours, but if you happened to be alongside each other during the race or near each other during qualifying, fans started to put their money on who would target who first.

You didn’t like that that was what your weekends turned into. It was one thing to want to know where the rest of the drivers were in comparison to you, but to be so focused on Daniel was taking it to the extreme.

But you were determined to prove you were a good driver without him, that you were a better driver than him. That taking that McLaren seat wasn’t a mistake and if anything, he should be regretting being so harsh on you. You wanted him to eat his words, and it helped your case that he was definitely struggling in the AlphaTauri.

You finished ahead of him a handful of times. You could try and convince yourself it was skill, but a determining factor really was how horrible Daniel’s car was. That was proven when you were struggling with an upgrade package in Singapore. Some analysts compared the pace of the McLaren to the AlphaTauri, and said that the upgrades were really more like downgrades.

When Daniel finished ahead of you, claiming sixth that race while you crossed the line in 17th, you were furious. You told the team that as a whole, you were much better than that. That the McLarens should not be finishing in the bottom five considering how successful you had been mid season.

Those closest to you knew what you meant. You shouldn’t be finishing behind Daniel.

Things weren’t perfect after that, despite going back to the old set up. You were back to fighting for points, but so was Daniel. And you hated it. You thought you could rely on the McLaren being better than the AlphaTauri, but you forgot to take into account that Daniel truly was one of the best drivers on the grid.

It got to the point where you and Ronnie had a code. If you finished ahead of him, on the radio, Ronnie would say way to go champ. If Daniel finished ahead of you and you weren’t already aware of it during the race, Ronnie would say there’s still work to be done.

Again, those closest to you knew how much it meant to beat Daniel.

You wanted to prove to him, and everyone but you wouldn’t lie to yourself it was mostly him, that you deserved that fucking seat. That you made the right choice by signing the contract, despite it meaning he was without a car for a few months. You shouldn’t have felt guilty for putting yourself first, your career first, if you were doing something great, which you were.

Plus, the better you did, the less of a reason Daniel had to judge you. How could he still be upset with you for taking that McLaren seat when you were doing what he couldn’t? Scoring in the high points, being consistent, for the most part. How could he say that taking his seat was the worst thing you could have done when ultimately, it would boil down to jealousy? Daniel struggled in that McLaren, and he assumed you would too. That wasn’t the case.

And deep down, even if you didn’t want to admit it, there was still a part of you that aimed to make Daniel proud. Even if you couldn’t get back to when you were each other's biggest fans, you hoped that he had moments when he looked at the driver standings and nodded to himself, smiling maybe, because even if you weren't on the best of terms, you were doing what he always knew you could do.

You had no idea, but moments like that did come for Daniel. They were far and few between, rarely caught on camera or at least, never brought to your attention. You had no way of knowing Daniel was leaving the AlphaTauri garage, conflicted about how he felt about your accomplishments. You were doing better than him, there was no denying that. He just chose not to admit it.

The only time that season where you knew he was proud was at COTA. One of his favourite races on the calendar.

You qualified well, P3. That hadn’t happened since Silverstone. The race itself didn’t produce anything too horrible, aside from a few drivers at the back of the grid collided early on and unfortunately Daniel was one of them, being forced to retire.

You, though, you were flying. Your biggest competition was Lando who had started P2, again, similar to Silverstone. For most of the race, your job was to defend Carlos who was aiming for that podium, wanting to take P3 from you.

Typically, you would have boxed first. That’s usually what happened to give Lando the advantage. And with Carlos most likely being on an undercut strategy, you expected the call to come in to box ahead of him.

But that didn’t happen. Instead, you watched Lando pull into the pit lane, giving you the automatic second place position. In your mirrors, you watched as Carlos pulled into the pits as well.

“What’s going on?” You asked Ronnie through the headset.

“Plan F.”

Plan F was one you joked about, but never actually executed. Plan Fight you and Lando called it, but both of you knew that you’d never actually be given the go ahead to fight it out for the podium positions, not wanting to risk damage to the cars.

“Plan F?” You repeated, the shock in your voice evident. That made for good content on F1 Twitter.

“Box this lap,” Ronnie instructed before going on to explain. “Carlos is struggling with his pace, we believe his main goal will be to defend.”

From what you knew, Lewis was behind him, and if Carlos was struggling with his pace he wouldn’t be fighting for a podium, he’d be fighting to keep that fourth place position.

Which meant you and Lando were also free to fight.

Pitting for new tyres dropped you back a bit, but it didn’t take long at all until you were right on Lando’s tail again. You stayed there for the majority of the last half of the race, the gap wavering anywhere between half of a second to three seconds behind.

You tried to pass, truly. But Lando’s defensive game had always been strong. You looked for the opportunities in the corners, along the straights, but it wasn’t until the third to last lap did the chance come.

You had closed the gap as much as you could, not needing to worry about whoever was behind you, you figured it was still Carlos. As you approached the back straight, you knew Lando was expecting you to dart to the left in an attempt for an overtake on the inside, you had tried it in five out of the last ten laps and each time you were still left eating his dust.

You veered slightly to the left, giving Lando the impression that was your goal and the second he made the move to defend, you steered the car to the right and gave it everything you had. It was a tricky move, vying for the outside overtake going into the tight corner, but when it seemed to work out, you had the inside line for the following turn and Lando was soon in your mirrors.

He tried to take that position back, but you took advantage of the clear air and set off, determined for your first podium, determined to finish ahead of Lando.

Lando ended up claiming third, crossing the finish line only a second after you did. After a victory lap, where he jokingly flipped you off, the two of you pulled into parc ferme. Immediately, you collapsed into Lando, arms tight around him because not only was this a success for you, but for the team. Both McLaren drivers on the podium for the first time this season.

Through the cheers, you could hear Lando yell something about making history. Whether that was in regards to both of you or the fact that you were the first female to ever podium in F1, you weren’t sure. It didn’t matter anyway. You just knew you were proud.

You jumped into the arms of your team next, those standing behind the barrier. Adrenaline was pumping through you, you just wanted to celebrate with everyone. When you eventually took your helmet off, a few tears were streaming down your face and you didn’t even think about the risk of turning into the new George Russell crying meme.

You were shaking as you stood in the cool down room, too amped up to sit. Max had been through this dozens of times before. Nor was this Lando’s first podium either, but you were on top of the world.

The ceremony went by in a blur. As did the post race conference. You really did try to take in each second of it, thankful that Lando was there at your side the entire time. This entire process was new to you and if Lando wasn’t in your ear telling you to breathe, where to go, to enjoy the moment, you would have been a mess.

There was so much that happened following that race, there was no way you could have known what was going on with any of the other drivers. It wasn’t until you got back to your hotel room at the end of the day with instructions to ‘get changed because we’re going out’ from Lando, did you see what you had missed.

It felt like hours since you even looked at your phone. You had called your parents, but you didn’t have much time for anything else. Now that you were sat on the edge of your bed, you were able to scroll through your texts and notifications.

You were able to see the clip you were tagged in way too many times, on way too many platforms.

It was short, but any longer and you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. You clicked play and watched the video of you crossing the finish line. Lando was following behind, but whatever broadcast this was from didn’t care about his finish. The shot switched to Daniel, from where he stood in the AlphaTauri garage.

Whoever was filming caught his live reaction of you coming second at COTA.

The nod, the faint curl of the corner of his lips because as much as he tried, he couldn’t fight the smile on his face as he watched you take your first podium position in F1, something that he once dreamed for you.

But you not being part of his dreams anymore didn’t mean that he stopped wishing you accomplished yours.

This brought you back to the first video you watched of him a few years back, before you even met him, where he spoke so highly of you. He wanted you to succeed so badly back then and he wanted to be at your side while you did so.

Now here you were, succeeding, but where was Daniel?

Maybe that’s where some of his hostility lied. You didn’t need him, clearly. Or at least, that’s what he thought.

The reality was, you wanted to prove you could do this without him, but you wished you didn’t have to.

You were conflicted, you both were. And it didn’t help that you weren’t speaking civilly to each other because my god a simple conversation would probably do wonders for both of you.

That was Lando’s thought, as he sat down next to you in the booth and handed you the glass of coke, no rum much to his dismay. You didn’t drink during the season, even if you had something to celebrate, Lando knew this. Champagne on the podium was the only exception.

Tonight, though, as you sat in your thoughts and replayed the image in your mind of Daniel smiling up at the screen, you figured that another exception wouldn’t hurt.

You turned down the coke and grabbed his drink instead, downing it in one gulp and instantly regretting it because you were fairly certain it was tequila based and tequila just wasn’t something you ever enjoyed. Lando laughed and handed you the coke to chase it down with.

“You’re letting loose tonight?” He asked, sitting down beside you. His arm stretched across the bench behind your shoulders. He didn’t even try stifling his chuckle as you struggled with the bitter taste left in your mouth.

“I need to,” you answered.

“You deserve to,” he corrected. Lando reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet and then a sleek black card. He didn’t say anything to you, nor to the server who came by and knew that by him dropping the card on the table meant he was asking for bottle service.

It wasn’t long before you had a row of shots to split between the two of you and a few others who had crowded the booth, some you knew, some you didn’t. Not that it mattered, you just wanted to drink, you didn’t care who you were with.

Lando being there was a godsend, though. He knew that you were a lightweight and told you that the glass in your hand was a vodka soda when in reality he asked the server for you to just be given water after a few hours of the most carefree drinking he had ever witnessed from you.

The music was blaring, you had gotten up to dance at one point, but you kept finding your way back to the booth. Clubbing wasn’t your thing and Lando, whether he liked it or not, was an anchor for you tonight. He kept you safe, kept you from drowning in the sea of people and alcohol.

He could do a lot that night, but he couldn’t prevent the inevitable storm that was Daniel Ricciardo making an appearance at that Austin night club.

Lando saw him first and turned to you with the intention of suggesting that you both called it a night. But no words came out when he saw the painful look of desire and despair mashed together on your features as you spotted the Australian driver.

You didn’t drink often, but if you did, you would know that feelings are often elevated under the influence. You’d also know that alcohol lowers inhibition, giving you a false sense of security to say what was really on your mind.

“I don’t get it,” you spoke quietly and Lando leaned in closer to hear you over the music blasting from all corners.

“Get what?”

You pulled your gaze off of Daniel before you could accidentally make eye contact and looked at your teammate instead. He seemed concerned for you, he always did when Daniel was involved.

Lando always did what he could to get your mind off Daniel and the past. He was a good friend, a good person to have in your corner but he wasn’t who you wanted there at the end of the day. You had grown to love Lando, not in the way you loved Daniel, though, so you couldn’t deny that you wished it was the Aussie sitting next to you in the booth, celebrating your podium. You hated that you wanted that.

“Do you miss him, still?” Lando prompted, knowing you had lost your train of thought.

When you shook your head, Lando gave you a look that clearly showed he didn’t believe you, but it was true. You didn’t miss Daniel. What you felt was much worse.

“I don’t miss him,” you answered, glancing towards him again. He stood at the bar talking to a girl that you envied because at least she was talking to him. “But I think he’s my missing piece.”

You hadn’t felt whole since the day you and Daniel split. You walked out of his flat but you left a piece of you there, a piece you desperately tried to get back through race weekends and training and distractions but it was no use. It would always belong to Daniel and you feared he had no intention of giving it back. You feared, that no matter how much time had passed, you’d always feel a little incomplete.

You stood up to leave soon after, thanking Lando for the drinks and assuring him you’d send a text when you got back to the hotel.

Lando tried to follow you to the door, wanting to tell you that he would go with you, the concerned friend making another appearance, but before he could get a word out he watched as someone cut him off, also making a direct line towards the door of the club.

It took Lando a second to realise it was Daniel who was walking after you now. Lando just stood there and raised his hand to the back of his neck, asking himself if he had just made a mistake by not stopping Daniel.

When Lando asked the next morning if Daniel spoke to you, you gave him a questionable look, telling him that you didn’t talk to him at all. Lando explained that he had seen Daniel leave the club right after you, but you just shrugged, chalking it up to getting into the uber before Daniel had the chance to catch up to you.

But Lando saw the photos. He, like everyone else, saw images of Daniel climbing into the car right after you. He wasn't the least bit surprised you lied about it.

You didn't want to tell Lando that Daniel had grabbed the side of the car door before you could shut it, pulling it back just enough for him to slide into the backseat next to you. You shuffled over to make room, but you couldn’t get a single word out. All liquid courage vanished and instead your palms were clammy, the car felt stuffy and you couldn’t even look at him.

Daniel as well, didn’t say anything. His legs were spread out slightly, knee hitting yours as his hands were folded together in his lap.

Why did he follow you?

This was the first time in ages you had been alone together, minus the driver.

The hotel was a short drive away, but it felt like ages, the two of you sitting in uncomfortable silence. You weren’t bickering like you often did if you were in the same room, but at this point you’d rather that than whatever this eeriness was.

You thought maybe, maybe, this was your saving grace. Maybe Daniel had followed you out of the club to tell you he was proud of you, to tell you he still loved you, to tell you he was tired of this feud and wanted you back.

But the longer you sat in silence, the more it sank in that that wasn’t the case.

You used to love each other. Now you couldn’t even hold eye contact.

Daniel waited until the driver pulled onto the street of your hotel before saying anything.

“Checo’s gone after this year.”

You turned to him, unsure if you had heard correctly. “What?”

“He’s gone,” Daniel repeated, more confident this time, still not looking at you though. “Marko told me on Friday.”

You had way too much alcohol flowing through your system to be able to process this. Checo’s contract wasn’t supposed to be up until the end of 2024.

But Nyck’s wasn’t supposed to be up in June and Daniel’s wasn’t supposed to be done at McLaren in 2022. These things happened in Formula 1, as unfortunate as it was for the driver getting the boot, these things often happened.

And Daniel…why did he know this information? Why didn’t the rest of the grid know it? Did Checo even know?

You inhaled sharply, “Does this mean-”

“The news is dropping tomorrow morning, but I wanted you to know first,” Daniel cut you off, his forehead creased with tension. His jaw was clenched, like he wasn’t happy to be saying this but felt the need to anyway. “I’m driving for Red Bull next year.”

The first thought that came to mind was he’s done it again. Taking another driver's seat before their contact ended. 2-1 now. He was officially a shittier person than you were and you so badly wanted to rub it in his face.

But you could see now that that was why he told you personally. He didn’t want to wait until you heard the news like everyone else, he didn’t want to give you an opportunity to attack him for this, to make him feel like the bad guy even though that’s how he made you feel this entire season so far.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t all that difficult to bite your tongue.

“Congratulations,” you settled on, quietly but you meant it and you caught him off guard because he truly was expecting some sort of lashing out.

The driver pulled up to the hotel right at that second and you thanked him before stepping out, not giving Daniel a second look, again catching him off guard because you always looked back at him when you were together.

Daniel waited a second. And then a few more before he bolted out of the car and into the hotel. You had made it to the elevator by that point and Daniel had to slide his hand between the doors to keep them from shutting. You watched as he pushed his way in and just like the car ride, said nothing.

You were on your way up to the twelve floor and Daniel waited until you arrived at the level before opening his mouth, waiting till the last second, wanting to cling onto this civil moment with you because who knew when it would come again?

“You’re not mad?” He asked.

The door opened and you had to brace yourself before standing up straight and walking out of the elevator, needing a moment to remember what side of the hall your room was on.

“I’m livid,” you answered, honestly. You were happy for him, but you were also angry about the situation. You didn’t know it was possible to feel both things at once, but in your drunk state, it was extremely possible.

“Livid?” Daniel walked behind you, trying to gauge the rest of this conversation because you didn’t sound livid.

“Enraged,” you said.

“Enraged,” he repeated.

“I want to wring your neck, Daniel,” you said, hearing him chuckle behind you because you didn’t sound the least bit threatening as you fumbled to unlock the hotel room door. The lock kept lighting up red and after your third failed attempt, Daniel took the card from your hand and unlocked it with ease, pushing the door open for you.

You didn’t thank him, instead relying on the wall once you stepped inside to lean against as you pulled your heels off. Daniel followed you inside, standing at a cautious distance until you dropped your shoes because part of him thought that maybe you would throw them at him. You were enraged after all.

You weren’t sure why he was still there. He had told you what he wanted to tell you and he had no reason to still be hanging around.

“What?” You finally asked, now sounding a little more on the annoyed side as you turned to stare at him. “What do you want? Why are you still here?”

“I want to talk.”

“About what?” You scoffed at him. “About the Red Bull contract? Congratulations, Danny. You deserve it. You deserve every fucking seat on this grid apparently.”

There it was.

“I knew you were mad.”

“I said I was mad!” You exclaimed, appalled that he was saying it like he discovered what you had already made perfectly clear. “I’m pissed, Dan. You have such a cult following that no one is going to bat an eye at you taking Checo’s seat, just like no one complained about you taking Nyck’s. Whereas I do it, I get offered the chance of a lifetime, to make history and I’m considered the villain? I didn’t end your contract, Daniel, I just replaced you and for some reason, no one cares about that narrative! They just care about you.”

You were yelling now. Daniel was probably regretting having followed you but it was too late for him to turn and walk out at this point.

“You know what the shitty part is?” You asked, stepping closer to him. Daniel could smell the vodka on your breath. That's how minimal the distance was between you. The last time you were this close you were wanting to rip his head off outside the AlphaTauri garage.

“What?” He raised his eyebrows. Daniel couldn’t even begin to guess where you were going with this.

“This news is going to drop and my name is going to be circulating in the media again. They’re going to compare this, you taking his seat, to me taking yours. I will never be known as the first female signed to McLaren. I will forever be linked to you, no matter what you do in this fucking sport.”

You shook your head at him when he stayed silent. Pulling your eyes off of him, the heaviest exhale passed through your lips and you turned around, wanting this night to end. After you waved your hand in the air you muttered something about how he could see himself out.

But he didn’t go anywhere.

And because he didn’t go anywhere and because you were drunk, you easily thought of more to say.

“You didn’t even like McLaren,” you sighed as you turned back around to face him, leaning against the wall. Your head was spinning. Maybe if you were lucky, this conversation wasn’t actually happening and it was a drunk figment of your imagination.

“No, but I loved you.”

You definitely didn’t imagine him saying that.

“I loved you,” he repeated, the past-tense admittance felt like a stab to your chest. “And I wanted nothing more than to race alongside you without feeling the need to prove something, to be your partner off the grid. I wanted to love you and race at the same time and you ruined that.”

All you could do was shrug your shoulders. You had said everything you needed to say at this point in defence of your contract, “I’m a driver, Dan. The race, the seat, it comes first, everything else second. You of all people know that.”

“We could have had both.”

Both. Love and a spot in Formula 1.

Clearly not.

“Could we have?” You asked, unsure if you even had an answer, but you needed him to really think about it. To think about it if that really was a possibility for the two of you.

Daniel and you held each other's stares for a minute, waiting for the other to say something. You were still waiting, hoping, for him to say he was proud of you, that he still loved you, that it didn’t matter what happened in the past, but it did matter. Daniel was still waiting for a sincere apology, but you had nothing to apologise for. Signing that McLaren contract was the best thing you’d ever done for yourself, despite the strings to Daniel you had now found yourself tangled in, McLaren was where you were supposed to be.

“I’m tired, Dan,” you shook your head and glanced towards your room down the hall. Physically, mentally, you were drained. And you weren’t ready for what was to happen tomorrow when his contract news came to light.

It didn’t even feel like you had gotten a podium a few hours ago. The last thing you wanted to do was celebrate. You just wanted to crawl into bed and forget that Daniel had followed you here.

He didn’t stop you as you walked down the hall. He waited for you to look at him, but again, you were past that. What was a second look going to do at this point? You wiped your makeup off as best as you could and slid under the covers of your bed, quickly falling into a dreamless sleep.

And sure enough, the news dropped of his contract, of his new seat, and it wasn’t long before people started comparing it to what you had done the year prior.

The first thing you saw when you woke up that morning, aside from the glass of water that Daniel had put next to your bed, was the news alert on your phone stating that Daniel was to replace Checo for 2024.

The second article you read was about you. Speculating how you would feel about Daniel’s permanent return. The article highlighted the moments of your relationship, starting from the day he signed on to be your mentor to the time in the AlphaTauri garage when you were fighting over the qualifying lap he ruined.

And then there was a photo of you climbing into the car from last night, followed by Daniel getting into the car shortly after.

His name was trending. Your name was trending. Half the people online cared about his return to RBR. The other half wanted to know if you two were getting back together.

No one gave a single shit that you made history yesterday, landing that podium.

You were the first female to score a podium position in Formula 1 and all anyone cared about was your connection to Daniel. Just like when you won the Monaco Grand Prix during F2, all anyone cared about was Daniel’s influence in your racing. When you were signed to McLaren, all anyone cared about was how you were replacing Daniel.

Daniel. Daniel. Daniel.

People didn’t care about your accomplishments. They only wanted to find a way to connect them all to Daniel.

You scrolled through the article and a new one was suggested for you at the bottom of it. Why Y/N Y/L/N Owes Her Career to The Honey Badger.

Instead of reading it, you threw your phone with as much strength as you had down the hall, out of your sight. You heard it hit the floor and slide across the hardwood.

You couldn’t remember the last time you read something positive about yourself without a hint of Daniel’s influence.

This wouldn’t have been as hard of a pill to swallow if he was still in your life the way you wanted him to be. If he really was still at your side, supporting you, cheering you on, you could look past the articles and speculations about how he was the only reason you were in the sport. It wouldn’t matter what people were saying if Daniel was in your ear reminding you of your potential, reminding you that you deserved that F1 seat.

But he wasn’t going to do that, not anymore. What you had was gone and you were left with the bitter memories and an unforgiving path you had to walk alone to prove yourself in this field.

You wanted to prove you didn’t need Daniel, but the entire world was making it their mission to remind you that at one point, you did. Maybe you still did, maybe you didn’t know who you were without him because let’s face it, everything you did on the track still revolved around him.

You cared about where he finished. You went out of your way to outscore him and only him. You didn’t do anything to relieve the tension in the paddock. You were very much playing into the narrative that he was still a key player in your life.

How could the world move on if you hadn’t?

Hearing footsteps make their way towards you, you sat up in bed, already knowing it was Daniel who didn’t leave when he should have.

You weren’t concerned about your appearance, he had seen you in a much worse state. He had better mornings as well, still wearing his clothes from last night, the bags under his eyes gave away the fact that he was about as tired as you were.

He had your phone in his hands, but he didn’t spend much time looking at the article on the screen. Instead, he dropped it to the table next to him and leaned against the doorframe, exhaling a heavy breath.

You didn’t move, content with the distance between you now because you had to be. Despite wanting nothing more than to be with him, you couldn’t have that anymore. Everything had to be at a distance.

Your phone chimed. Once, twice, and then about four more times. You knew it was people telling you about Daniel’s contract, not knowing that you had been given the inside scoop last night.

At one point, you loved being connected to Daniel. Now, it was a burden. It was haunting. Each time someone mentioned him to you, sent you something about him, asked you a question about him, you were reminded that the connection was gone.

Your lips parted and you had to take a quick, self-assuring breath before finally saying what had to be said.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Do what?”

Your entire body trembled as you spoke, “You know what, Daniel.”

Of course he did. He was as tired as you were. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this and yet here you were, staring at each other knowing that you were both too far gone to ever find your way back.

You thought, maybe, possibly, you could work things out. For a brief moment, when you knew he was proud of you, you thought you saw a silver lining amongst the grey skies. And maybe you did, maybe it was there, but it was way beyond your grasp. You couldn’t reach out and grab it, you could only dream of it.

There was one solution. One that broke you, knowing you were stuck with it. You didn’t want to admit it. You wished you could push it down and keep living the way you had but you just couldn’t do it anymore.

You were tired. This was hopeless. You both needed closure, but he wasn’t going to say anything which meant you had to.

“I’m stuck, Daniel. I’m stuck living in the moments between the day we met and the day I left because those are the moments that meant the most to me and I haven't been ready to let them go. I’ve never wanted to move on but you forced me to. You forced me to become the bad guy, to do this without you, to grow without you, to prove that I don’t need you but I do need you, I’ve always needed you. From day one, I needed you. My first time in the F1 car, I needed you. If I crashed out, I needed you. I always needed you, Daniel, and then after a five minute conversation you decided that I didn’t anymore. You made that decision for me, for us.”

You paused, you took a breath, you weren’t done. Despite being so painfully close to breaking down, you weren’t done.

“And now here I am, finally succeeding, finally making history in this sport, but it doesn’t mean anything because no one cares unless they find a way to connect it to you. I will always be in the shadow of the man I love and for this entire season, I’ve let it happen because it was the only way you’d still be in my life.”

Daniel cleared his throat when he heard that four letter word, standing up a little straighter, “You still love me?”

You glanced down at the duvet wrapped around your hips. It was heavy, suffocating, much like this conversation. “Truthfully, Daniel, I can’t imagine the day I stop.”

Daniel didn’t need to say anything for you to know he no longer felt the same. He had stopped loving you the day you signed the contract with McLaren. He may have been proud of your achievements, he may have appeared to have extended a short olive branch, one that gave you false hope, but he didn’t love you.

Because it always came back to that one question. How could he love you- how could he be in your corner when you had pushed him out of his own? You may not have been the one to initiate his leave, but you gave him that final shove.

That was a move you had to live with.

“I love you,” you repeated, your eyes then trailing towards your phone where that stupid article was still displayed on the screen. “I always will, but I can’t be tied to you anymore. I can’t do this anymore.”

Even though Daniel was the one that had broken up with you all those months ago, this hurt more. Hearing you finally cut ties, knowing you didn’t want to be done but had to be, broke him. There was no salvaging this.

“I think-” your voice cracked as you spoke, but for the sake of this conversation you did your damn best to hold it together. “I think we need to be done.”

We are done, Daniel wanted to say, but he knew there was more to your words.

Watching your bottom lip quiver made him want to pull you into his arms one last time. He wanted to apologise and hold you close before the tears could fall.

“No more comments to the media,” you stated firmly. Daniel nodded.

You were stronger than him, maybe you always were. Daniel could barely get a word out and here you were, laying down what had to happen moving forward.

“No more interactions,” you then said, raising your hand to your arm, a soothing gesture or maybe an anxious one, he couldn’t tell. “No more- no more following me out of clubs for people to see. No more giving anyone a reason to connect us. I don’t want you in my life as anything more than another driver on the grid. You’re not my teammate. You’re not my partner. You’re not in my corner. I don’t want to worry about what you think about me anymore. I don’t want to worry about where you finish and I don’t want you to care about where I’m at. I want you to focus on driving just like I want to focus on driving. That’s it. That’s who we are. We’re drivers, Daniel. That’s all we’ve ever been. Strip back every layer of us and racing remains. That’s how it should be. We’ve-” you sucked in a breath, your words getting caught in your throat for a second. “We’ve always known that, I think. That at the end of it all, we’re drivers first. We were foolish to think we could be anything more.”

You couldn’t have both. You couldn’t be in love while on the grid together.

You were only ever drivers. That’s why you signed the McLaren contract. That’s why Daniel didn’t think twice before replacing Nyck and now Checo. You both put your careers first. It wasn’t selfish, it was in your blood, and you couldn’t hold it against each other anymore.

And you couldn’t hold onto it either.

As much as you liked to think there would come a day where you would still be in love, both of you on the grid, you accepted now that it would never happen. It was a dream, one you had to let go of. You had to mend the hole in your chest that he created. You couldn’t let him be that missing piece.

You had to respect Daniel as a driver, much like he had to with you. But that was it. No more conversations. No more subtle comments made about each other or to each other. You needed distance. No more missed looks in the paddock, because surely someone with a camera would catch it. No more watching the screen if the other was showcased. No more petty feuds. No more interactions. No more caring.

You had to cut ties with Daniel. It was the only way you could focus on yourself and your career.

Surely, enough time would pass where an article would be written about you that didn’t mention his name and his assistance in getting you to where you were now. But that wouldn’t happen if you were still holding onto him. You had to let go for the rest of the world to.

Daniel pushed himself away from the wall without saying a word. You watched, tense, as he slowly made his way towards you and sat down next to you on the bed. Knees touching like they were in the car ride last night. As you turned your head and stared up at him, you could make out the details in his face that you used to cherish, that you had memorised so early on in your relationship.

But he had changed. There was a sliver of unfamiliarity in his eyes, a reminder that this wasn’t the Daniel who was in love with you anymore.

You had to look away.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” you whispered. You kept your hands folded in your lap, worried that if you unclenched your fingers you would reach out for him.

Daniel nodded, agreeing with you. He raised his arm up, tucking it over your shoulders and pulling you against his side. You inhaled a sharp breath at the gesture, knowing this would be the last time you’d feel his touch. He rubbed his hand over your arm, neither of you thinking to say anything else, because there really was nothing left to say.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

You were supposed to be in love.

And maybe, in another world, you would be. If you didn’t make the move to F1, you could still be in love. If you settled with F2, if you moved to a different series, he could still support you and you could still be his biggest fan.

But you were drivers. Career focused, determined, passionate drivers who wanted nothing more than to win. You both craved the honour and prestige of a Formula 1 seat more than anything, more than each other. You’d be lying if you thought otherwise.

You were drivers, so inevitably, it was always going to end like this.

__________________

is this the finale or is there one more chapter for these loveless drivers?

taglist: @torossosebs@whatthefuckerr@jspitwall@oconso@tsarinablogs@landowecanbewc@somanyfandomsbruh@christianpulisic10@storminacloud@sunnytkm23@formula1mount@azxulaa@icarus-nex@spideyspeaches @moonvr @destourtereaux @baw-sixteen @cinderellawithashoe @love4lando @alesainz @blueanfield @itsmeempar @vellicora

for some reason im struggling to add anyone else to the taglist, i deeply apologise. i would recommend turning on post notifs but i know its sometimes annoying, but i rly am struggling with my mentions

#daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #danny ric #dr3 #f1 fics #formula 1 x you #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo au

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leviscolwill · 8 months

Text

glue song

pairing: trent alexander arnold x reader

summary: after going picnicking with your little cousins, you feel like your relationship with your boyfriend has taken a new step (wc: 1k)

contents: established relationship, talk abt having kids, so fluffy you might die in it, suggestive ending i guess ??

note: i'm in a trent mood lately, just look at him being so babygirl. i want to be his controversially young gf so bad (gasly core)

reblogs and feedback are very very much appreciated 🫶

now playing: glue song by beebadoobee and clairo

when your cousin asked you to babysit her kids for the afternoon, you immediately accepted. you were very close to your family but still felt like you didn't see your cousin or her twin daughters enough so you jumped on the occasion.

trent had already met your family quite a few times but when you told him the news, he was already planning the whole day ahead wanting to make the most out of the afternoon you'll spend with olivia and amalia.

he'd prepared custom sandwiches for them according to their taste and he forced you to bake cookies with him for them.

"come on it'll be fun." he practically pleaded.

"but trent you know that we can't bake to save our life."

"we ? who is we ? i'm a great baker." he replied side eyeing you while grabbing every ingredient needed. it was the truth, sort of. trent was not a great baker but he was definitely better than you, his cookies were edible (most of the time) and even good, sometimes.

but baking with trent was always a hustle, you tried to focus on the recipe while he wanted to wing it, saying it would taste better this way.

"you should listen to the real chef here love, it's not a big deal if we don't put the exact same amount of vanilla you know. now, be a good sous-chef and grab the whip for me please" he told you with a cocky grin, he knew how you would react to his words, exactly how he wanted you to.

you grabbed the whip only to playfully hit his shoulder with it while trent dramatically whined that you wanted him injured for the start of the season.

it didn't surprise you that your boyfriend was this excited about spending his day with actual kids, the way he was behaving like one right now.

after at least an hour of battling with trent, and cleaning your flour-maculated kitchen, your cookies were ready. and after tasting one (for research purposes, of course), you could say they were good, 'probably the best thing ever baked' in your boyfriend's words.

after a while, your shared house's doorbell finally rang, and trent nearly jumped out of his seat to open the door, you followed him and welcomed your cousin and her 7 year old daughters.

"thank you so much for babysitting them today, they're very happy to see their favorite aunty and uncle." your cousin beamed while giving you their bags, heavy with toys.

"we're also happy to spend some time with them, we have a great afternoon planned." you replied with a smile. trent who had his hand on your waist was quick to agree with you too.

after olivia and amalia hugged their mum goodbye, trent was already grabbing your bags full of sandwiches, sweets, and freshly baked cookies.

"uncle trent did you know my team won the school's football competition in may." amalia beamed at trent while she told him how she scored the winning goal for her team, thanks to her sister's brilliant assist. seeing trent and your little cousins get along this well made your chest feel warm at the scene, you almost wished for today to never end, although it was far from over.

once you settled your large blanket in the park, your boyfriend chose. you gave olivia and her sister their sandwiches with a kiss on their forehead. you turned around to take your own when you met trent eyes and his lovesick smile.

"why are you looking at me like that ?" you asked him with a shy smile as you felt the blush creep up your cheeks.

"do i need a reason to stare at my girl now ?" he answered, quickly pressing a kiss on your lips.

"ewww." olivia covered her eyes in disgust, while amalia pretended to throw up.

you laughed at their dramatic reactions and took a bite of the sandwich prepared by trent.

after the girls finished their sandwiches, they tasted the homemade cookies and absolutely loved them.

"of course they're perfect, they were made by liverpool's best baker." trent beamed pointing at himself. you rolled your eyes while olivia and amalia laughed at his ridiculous claim.

when it was finally time to go, you cleaned up everything while your cousins started walking to the car holding each other's hands.

"come on let's go home, my three princesses." he said, while bringing your hand to his lips to kiss the back of it and kiss the side of your head while you started walking, holding hands like teens.

after your cousin picked up olivia and amalia, and thanked you again, the house seemed oddly silent. not the awkward kind of silence but a comforting one, the kind of silence you often shared with trent when words weren't needed.

"i really had fun today you know." trent broke the silence, stroking your hair.

"yeah, i noticed that, i'm glad you get on well with them."

"i think you'd be a great mum." he said almost in a whisper. you did not expect this. trent and you have been together for over a year already, but you've never had this talk.

"are you trying to tell me something ?" you asked, looking up at him.

"i don't know, not really, i was just thinking that maybe-" you put an end to his suffering quickly when you noticed his stammering.

"i'm joking trent... i think you'd be a great dad, the best actually."

he looked at you lovingly and kissed you in a manner that was definitely different than when the girls were here.

his kisses started trailing down your neck as you moved your head to the side, implicitly telling him to keep going.

"should we start practicing then mmh ?"

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tojisbbygworl · 10 months

Text

Before I Let Go - Yandere!Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Summary: A grieving woman comes face to face with her thought to be deceased husband and can't find it in her to care about how wrong this was. She missed him. So much.

WARNINGS: Thoughts of Suicide, Suicide Attempt

Words: 4,994

Tags: 18+, 3rd person, Angst, Emotional Smut, Desperation, Grief/Mourning, Yandere, Spying, Kidnapping, Minimal Spanish terms of endearment

author's note: hey y'all. I have another fic for you. I am so glad I finished it it's been sitting in my drafts for a minute. The yandere part of this isn't violent although there is some slight physical pain put on the reader during sex. Just a mention of choking and scratching it's not bad. It's more obsession if anything. Also, I wasn't even gonna try with the Spanish girl. The most he says is carina and hermosa and I know y'all are sick of seeing that atp. I barely even tried with the British for Hobie I'm not about to embarrass myself LMAO

I hope this makes y'all sad honestly I feel like I could have made it sadder but I'm still very happy with it. Anyway, enjoy! 🩵

AO3 version

My AO3

Masterlist

The buzzing sound of a phone call is all that can be heard in the apartment. It has been a week since the funeral, and Y/N O’Hara hasn’t said a single word. She doesn't even remember what her voice sounds like.

Miguel O'Hara was everything to her. He meant the entire world. She would do anything he asked, but he never asked for much. All he wanted was her love. She was the same with him. A perfect partnership. She felt like she was on top of the universe. And then it was taken away from her. In a fucking car crash, no less.

He was the smartest person she knew. He was the head geneticist at Alchemax after all. He wasn't a stupid driver. No. It was the other driver's fault. But what could she do about it? It was just a kid. A teenager that had just gotten their license, but hadn't taken official driving lessons; no one really drilled into them the severity of texting while driving. How could she really blame them? How could she press charges? Miguel always told her that she was too forgiving. Too understanding.

He was right. But...she also couldn't help but to think it wasn't fair. That her beautiful husband had to die from their actions, and all they had to deal with was an insane insurance increase and a fucked up car that their parents were bound to replace. She would give anything to trade consequences. Anything.

Almost two months since his death, she's been wandering around her apartment frequenting the most common places she and Miguel would cuddle in. She always had a shared blanket, one of his shirts, or a pillow that had his hair on it to squeeze and cry into. If she sprayed it with his cologne and shut her eyes really tight, she could almost imagine he really was there. Almost.

These objects could never replace him. She missed his warmth. She missed his chest pushing her head up and down from his breathing. It would rumble when he chuckled. His hands were so large that her entire back would heat up when he held her gently. He was so tall, 6'6 to be exact, he would completely engulf her whenever they embraced. She felt so safe in his arms. She doesn't feel safe anymore.

Nearly two months of hunching over on the floor of her apartment in pain. She wailed into the ground. Coughing and scratching whatever she could hold onto, because the pain was too much to bare. Oh, the pain. She wouldn't wish this kind of heartbreak on anyone or anything.

The apartment was large, courtesy of his checks. He could already afford it on his own, then, the both of them married just a few years ago and he didn't expect her to pay a dime, despite how much she insisted. Instead, she bought food and handled upkeep. If it got too expensive, then he would chip in. She would have to move out eventually, his remaining income and life insurance the only thing keeping her afloat. Just another thing that she can’t fathom.

It was 3 bed, 2 bath. One was their bedroom, the other was his office, she's been going in there a lot as well, and they always wondered what they would do with the last room. For so long, it was empty even before she moved in with him. He never knew what he could use it for. He had hoped that she would turn it into a hobby room, she loved to paint and she played the violin a little, but there was a beautiful terrace attached to the apartment that she opted for instead and she insisted the living room had the best acoustics so the room remained a mystery. Until last year, when he dropped a bomb on her.

It was an extremely average day for the both of them. They were both home from work, nothing interesting to report, and were deciding what to eat for dinner. She suggests something they could cook, and he agrees. As the night goes on, something seems off about Miguel. He's quiet and zoning out a lot. Something has to be on his mind, right?

"Babe," she calls for him snapping him out of his trance.

"Hm?"

"Everything alright?" She puts her hand on his shoulders and gives him a worried look. Miguel swallows his spit then turns towards her grabbing her hand and placing his on her waist.

"I've been thinking..." His voice is small. She starts to grow anxious as she had never seen him look so timid. He was more nervous than when he asked her to marry him.

"W-What is it?" She stutters. He kisses her knuckles.

"It's just something that I've been wanting for a while now. And if you don't, then It's completely fine. I care about your happiness above everything."

"Miguel, stop being so cryptic and tell me what's up," She half jokes.

He nervously bites his lips and looks away. Then, taking a deep breath, he looks into her eyes and says, "I want to have a kid."

She felt it was best to pretend the work-in-progress nursery didn't exist. In her mind, the room is still empty. There wasn’t a crib set up. The walls weren't in the process of being painted. They didn't have arguments about what to put on it because they didn't know the gender. In fact, gender of what? They weren't planning for a baby. The third room is as empty as she is.

The both of them were foolish, deciding to get everything set up before she got pregnant instead of winging it like everyone else. She should have winged it. Then maybe she would still have a piece of him with her.

It was so fucking hard to focus on what mattered. She was hanging on a thread that thinned out every single day. Before the funeral, she wondered what would be her breaking point? The point where she finally got up and decided to keep going.

The weather was very fitting for that day. The sun was gone, and the rain came in waves. Her tears, however, never stopped. It was a stupid decision to make it open casket. She gazed upon his resting face for the first time since he died in the hospital then turned and ran to the nearest bathroom to empty her stomach. She hadn’t even gotten to say her speech; Miguel’s mother read for her instead.

Something inside her snapped. Sometimes the pain is a dull ache in her chest, and she’s numb everywhere else. Other times it’s a sharp twang that she can feel in her back. She has to lay or sit down when that happens. Sometimes it courses through her entire upper body and she can’t even move. But this…this stabbing, twisting, and searing pain that ripples through her heart and travels to the tip of her fingers and toes…she hasn’t felt this before.

This was the breaking point, but it did the opposite. She didn’t talk for the rest of the day, her and his family begging her to stay with them. She didn’t listen.

It was nights like tonight that she felt completely alone. She knew she wasn’t, if she just picked up the phone and texted someone, then maybe she would be okay. She just needed to stop looking at the ceiling, turn to her nightstand, pick up her phone, and call her mother. But it was 1 in the morning, and Miguel looked so happy in her lock screen picture…

Her and Miguel had been up here on the top of the apartment building so many times before. They liked to dance, he would watch her play or paint, they had picnics together, it was perfect when they wanted to get out of the apartment, but still have some privacy.

The view was nice. They could see across the entirety of Nueva York. Central Park in the fall was especially amazing to gaze upon. But now it fills her with grief. As she steps on top of the edge, she decides that if this couldn’t make her feel better, then nothing could.

She’s glad she’s doing this in the middle of the night, where no one could see her and call for help. She was sure that she would traumatize a couple people when morning came, a problem that she couldn’t be bothered by. She was ready to be back in his arms. So she walked off. And closed her eyes as she plummeted through the air.

She’s scared. But excited. She only has to feel excruciating pain for a second and then never again. It’s almost over.

She hits something, or more so, something hits her. She’s still flying through the air, but it’s different now. There’s a warm body holding onto her for dear life, and she’s soaring upwards into the night sky. Opening her eyes to gaze at her savior, she sees a masked silhouette. It-it’s Spider-Man…but he looks completely different. She can barely see him, the only source of light being the moon, but she could swear that this wasn’t his mask.

They land on the rooftop again and he puts her down. She crawls away from him, embarrassed and ashamed at what she’s done. She was still alive and now she was in more pain than ever before. Wailing on the floor, she glared up at him in vitriol.

“Why did you save me?” She yelled, her voice powerful for a woman who hadn’t been verbal for a week. Spider-Man didn’t answer. She wasn’t even sure if he was looking at her. “I didn’t want to be saved.” Still, he said nothing. So she continued to cry, and she cried harder and harder until she felt a sensation on her back.

He was trying to comfort her, but when she turned he backed off, holding his hands up instead. Her lips quivered, then she threw herself into his arms. His hold on her body was snug and comforting. Her anger for him dissipates immediately as she accepts his affection. For the first time in a while, she felt safe. She didn’t want him to let go.

And he didn’t. He stayed until she fell asleep in his arms. Then, he picked her up, gazing upon her peaceful face with the light from the inter dimensional portal, then walked into it with no intention of coming back.

This wasn’t her room.

She sat up in the bed and took in her surroundings. These weren’t her sheets, that wasn’t her wallpaper, the blinds were different, the floor wasn’t carpeted, everything even the floor plan of the room was different. This isn’t her home.

Her heart begins to pound. Where was she? She was still in her clothes, but that’s the only comfort that she had. Immediately, she shoots out of the bed, the comforter tangling in her feet making her fall onto the floor. The large thump that her fall makes scares her. She stays on the floor, still and quiet as a mouse. There's no noise for a couple seconds. Then, the sound of someone walking.

She hyperventilates, quickly removing herself from the blanket and standing up. But she realizes that she has no where to go. There's a small closet in the room, and space under the bed, but those the only hiding spaces she can think of. And the footsteps were getting closer. What can she do, she wonders as she backs into the wall.

The door swings open. And her heart stops.

Miguel stared at his wife's variant in concern and turns on the light. The woman blinks and shields her eyes, but the bewildered look that she sported quickly comes back. "What happened?"

When he spoke, she gasped and took another step back. She smacked her hand over her mouth. Her eyes glistened with tears, her breath shuddered. "You're alright?" Miguel asked her again. She didn't answer.

For what felt like the longest time, they just stared at each other. He was afraid of approaching her thinking he may scare her away. She was in completely disbelief at what she was seeing. Miguel raised his hands and stayed near the door way. "Please, don't freak out," he began.

She let out a sob, tears escaping her eyes when she did. Placing her hand on her chest, she lifts herself from the wall. Miguel takes this as a sign to keep going.

"I know you must be confused. You're probably upset and angry. I understand." She took a step forward. "But if you would just left me explain..." Another step. Then another. And another. And she held her hand out in front of her. As she approached him, he realized how badly she was trembling, and it only got worse the closer she got. But still, she moved forward.

The speech Miguel had been practicing before she woke up died in his throat. He was speechless as he watched her courageously close the space between them. When she finally stood right in front of him, she hesitated. He could hear her soft gasps and cries. Then finally, she softly touched his chest. He looked down at her hand, then up at her face. Even though she was crying profusely, she looked upon him in wonder. He just wants to reach out and grab her, but he holds himself back.

She begins to rub his chest and torso, appalled by his presence. He looks back down at her hands. Then, they trail themselves up to his neck, stopping right under his chin. He lifts his head up. They both hold their breath for a second. Then, with a gasp from her, and a sigh from him, she finally touches his cheek. Miguel closes his eyes and leans into her palm. He lifts his arm up, and encases her hand in his, keeping it in place.

Her lips begin to move. With a tiny shaky breath, she whispers, "It's you."

Miguel's face is troubled. He has a small frown and his eyebrows were upturned. He twists his head in her palm to give it a small kiss.

Her eyes flicker all over his body. It is him...but he's different. He's taller now. His build is thicker and he feels tense. Miguel was a gym buff, but this man...this kind of definition is not built in the gym. His frown is deep, and so are his wrinkles. His eyes were more troubled than hers, and had the slightest hint of red. And his teeth...she could feel his sharp canines with her thumb.

"No," she realizes. "It's not you."

Miguel opens his eyes and stares at her. He can see the fear growing on her face, and he starts to panic. He moves his hand to her wrist to hold it gently. But he's prepared to squeeze it if she tries to run. "I'm not him. But-"

"But you look like him." She continues, her voice on the precipice of hysteria. "And you sound like him." She holds both of his cheeks and caresses his face with her thumbs. "And you feel like him..."

Miguel winces as he watches her cry louder and louder with every observation. "Cariña, please," He takes her hands off of his face and kisses her knuckles. She completely breaks down crying. Miguel reaches his arms out, and she throws herself into his chest, sobbing into his neck. "You don't have to cry anymore. I'm here now."

"But who are you?" Her voice muffled by his shoulder.

He gulps. "...I am Miguel, but-"

"But you're not my Miguel, are you?" She lifts her head up to stare at him. She looked anguished, her brain not being able to process what was going on. He doesn't answer. "Did you save me?" He nodded. "Why?"

"I had to, baby. I-"

"Where did you come from?" She pushes herself off of him, and Miguel can't find it in him to hold her there. He let's go of her, knowing that there is no where she can really run where he won't find her. "No, where have you been?"

He furrows his brows and tilts his head. "What?"

"Where the hell have you been?" She screams at him in unbridled rage. Her tears were never ending, and her glare was fierce. "I was in fucking agony when you died. I couldn't live with myself. I couldn't get over you. I didn't want to. I missed you so much." Her anger turned into desperation and she falls to her knees on the floor, weeping into her hands. Miguel looks on in desolation, his eyes filling with tears as well. He walks to her and leans down, trying to get her to stand. She flips her head up at him. "Who are you?"

"Please, let me explain." He sits on the floor with her, holds her face and leans into it. She doesn't pull away, instead, she kisses him first, her cries never ending. Her hands tangle themselves in his hair. Miguel wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her into him. He sits back and pulls her into his lap.

The kiss lasts until they run out of breath, then they pull away, panting in each others' faces. "I...am Miguel." He starts. "But not your Miguel. And you are not my Y/N."

She shakes her head and scrunches up her face. "Just listen." Her mouth closes again, and she relaxes preparing herself to take in every word he says...

...Miguel spent a lot of time watching her. His Y/N, across the multiverse. In each one, they are together. It's fate. And in every one...she dies. No matter what that universe's Miguel does, she dies. That must be fate, too. Then he found a universe where that didn't happen. He died instead. He took a chance, and when he replaced himself he was the happiest he had ever been. And then everything was destroyed. An entire universe...gone. He swore to never interfere with fate again. He whispered a soft 'sorry' to every Miguel he found after that.

He saw her, Y/N on Earth - 548. Happy as ever with her devilishly handsome husband. He felt for him. He had no idea the heartbreak he was about to experience. But, for the second time in his studies, he was the one who died. He cried, knowing that he could never do anything about it. When she became a shell of her former self, he focused all of his attention on her. Putting all of his work on Jess and Peter, he monitored her. He watched her cry, she spent all of her time off from work at home rolling around in her bed as if the emotional pain was so strong that it was physical as well. He watched her touch herself at night, whispering his name into the empty air, him joining her from where he was spying groaning her name as well, wishing his cum was dripping from her cunt instead of down his hand. He called for her, hoping that his prayers to keep her safe would reach who ever was listening. They didn't.

He knew that when she sat up like a ghost from her bed that fateful night, she was about to do something rash. He held his hand over his watch, ready to jump as soon as he felt he needed to. When she began to walk to the edge, he decided to not even risk it and hopped into the portal.

He didn't expect her to turn and scream at him the way she did. He hadn't heard her beautiful voice for some time, he missed it so much, and the first thing she did was yell at him. He was stunned. He couldn't believe she was right in front of him. He looked at his watch. No indication of a canon event. There was nothing. Which meant...she was never supposed to die.

He was impulsive, he knows that. But, it worked out in his favor. She was supposed to be alive. He had done right. And now he had a decision to make. Does he leave her here to figure everything out on her own, or does he take her with him...and let her family think she's dead…

“You were watching me?”

Miguel refuses to meet her eyes. She didn’t move, but he tightened his grip around her just in case. Her voice was wavering.

When he didn’t answer, she continued. “Why didn’t you save him?”

He looked up at her that time. Above everything else, she was melancholy. “I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

“I just couldn’t, mi amor. You don’t understand.”

With her face contorted in pain, she released a choked sob. Her mouth was hung open. If she chose to believe this imposter, than hearing that nothing could have been done about the love of her life brought her no comfort. It wasn’t fair.

She gripped Miguel’s shirt letting her head fall forward into his chest. He held her for a long time while her shoulders shook. “Please, believe me.”

She doesn’t say anything, but her cries stopped. He began to worry, but she soon lifted her head up and looked into his eyes. His flicked back and forth between hers, and the both of them dive into another passionate kiss. This time, they don’t let up from each other. It gets more intense. Miguel’s breath picks up as his hands begin to explore her back and waist. She pushes her body up against his, rubbing their chests together.

She’s the one who pulls away opting to kiss down from his cheek to his neck. “Just come to bed with me. Please?” She begs into his skin.

Miguel, in a daze, whispers “Okay.”

He lifts her up and lays her down onto his bed, kissing her sweetly as he climbed on top of her. He felt so much bliss, he never imagined he would be able to do this again.

The way she grabbed his face made him never want to physically leave her side again. This was where he wanted to stay for the rest of their lives. She kissed him with so much despair, so much need, how could he ever leave her mouth? But, the strain in his pants and the grip she had on his back get worse, and he finds a reason to pull away.

She whimpers, missing the way his tongue caressed her mouth, leaving her lips swollen and shiny. Her eyes open, silently asking him where he was going, until he reached under the hem of her shirt and lifts it off of her, exposing her beautiful breasts. She gasps when he begins to rub his hand between them, eventually grabbing one to hold and play with. Miguel grins at her while she watches him rub his thumb across her hardened nipple. Which turned into her watching him dip his head down to her sternum and leave the smallest, lightest kiss.

The restraint he had on himself as he trailed his mouth down her body was unnatural. His claws had long since come out, ripping into the bedsheets as he tried so hard not replace them with her luscious hips. She was responding unbelievably well, making him happy he didn’t listen to Lyla tell him how terrible of an idea this was.

Lyla was wrong, he told himself when he heard her soft cry as his tongue played with her nipple. She began to squirm from frustration, and he just had to push his hips in between her open legs, the heat from his dick making her rub her wet panties along his shaft. Miguel moaned with her nipple fully inside his mouth, her moaning with him from the vibration against her chest.

She’s not scared of me, he thought as he leaves her nipple and kisses down her body. His lips finally met up with her panties, opting to push them to the side instead of taking them off completely. He places a kiss on her sensitive clit, his precum staining his underwear when she yelps. Miguel takes a moment to look at her glistening pussy, then he closes his eyes when he finally licks it.

And she doesn’t hate me. Miguel looks drunk when he starts eating her out. His eyebrows are raised and he gently placed her hand on her spread thigh, caressing the soft skin. Her whines making him even more desperate to please her, he presses his tongue into her center harder. His lips are covered with her fluid. Miguel gives her thigh a nice squeeze, then a slap, then he stands up straight.

When she opens her eyes to look at him, her heart races. His eyelids were low, and he towered over body making her feel smaller than she was. His stare was filled with infatuation, wiping off his lower face with one swipe of his large hand. Without breaking eye contact, he rips his shirt off and swipes his pants and underwear down, his large member bouncing back up. Miguel spit into his palm and started jerking himself off. Then, he climbs onto the bed, aligning his hips with hers.

He drools onto her pussy, her shuddering as his spit meets her clit and runs down her lips. It does well to lube her up with Miguel rubbing his tip in between her folds. “Ngh…fuck,” he mutters, the feeling of her wet cunt on his sensitive head giving him a feeling of euphoria.

She grew impatient, while Miguel was trying to take his time and savor her, she was ready to feel him split her apart. This was something she’s been dreaming about since she lost him. She waited for the day his naked body would engulf hers, his face on her cheek whispering filthy insults and sweet praises into her ear. As she remembers how sex used to be with her love, she starts to tear up.

“Miguel,” she whined making him look at her worriedly. When his eyes open, the red she noticed before is even more prominent. His mouth was opened slightly so she could barely see his fangs. How he could look so similar yet so different from her Miguel, she doesn’t know.

“Yes?” He asks her.

“Please, I can’t wait any longer. I want…” She moves her hips on him again. Miguel looks down at their hips and holds hers still.

He doesn’t respond, just pushes his length into her slowly. He grunts as he sheathes himself inside her warmth, reveling in her cries. “Shit, baby.” She’s tight and squeezing him so nicely, he can’t stop until he's inside of her fully.

She’s breathing heavily with her head thrown back and her eyes closed. Her back is arched lifting her naked chest into the air. “Look at me,” Miguel commands. She lifts her head up giving him what he wanted. Her eyes are filled with tears. It hurts, but feels so good. She missed him so much, and now they were one again.

Miguel whimpers at her beautiful face. “Hermosa,” he reaches out to her cheek to hold it. “Don’t cry.”

“But I love you,” she tells him.

He gasps. His hand lifts from her face. Freezing, he stares into her eyes in disbelief. “W-What?”

She takes his hand and brings it to her lips, leaving a gentle smooch. Her eyes close and the tears fall. “I love you, Miguel.”

His eyesight gets blurry as well, and soon Miguel is crying profusely. “Oh, baby,” he leans over her and pulls his hips backwards. Then he slams himself back down, making her yelp. She grabs his face and kisses him. “I love you too.”

As Miguel fucks her slowly, neither of them can find it in them to stay quiet. Miguel has to tell her how terribly in love with her he is. She has to let him know how much she missed him. He leans into her neck and whispers how he missed her too, and to stop crying because he’s here now. Even though, he can’t stop crying either.

She’s so happy to hear that he will never leave her side. She decides to believe him, accepting happiness instead of reality. She ignores his red eyes, his sharp fangs that press against her neck, as if he can barely hold himself back from biting her. She ignores how different the rumbling in his chest is from her Miguel. It’s not soft or sweet nor does it make her content. This one is predatory and dangerous, it makes her nervous.

She dismisses the way he grabs her neck; tight, leaving her with no air, whereas her Miguel knew that she didn’t like it rough. Honestly, neither did he. This Miguel went faster and harder. He grunted into her ear. But, she doesn't care.

She completely ignores how different this Miguel was. Her wishes were answered. She got him back. It doesn’t matter that his hold on her hip was so strong that he’s scratching her. That he didn’t stop or slow down when she came making her overstimulated. She let him cum inside her soon after, knowing that she wasn’t on anything.

“I miss you so fucking much,” she wailed when he slipped his dick out of her, his cum following suit and staining the bed beneath her.

Instead of getting a warm towel, Miguel laid down next to her and pulled her into his arms silencing her cries. “I told you baby, I’m right here.” But she doesn’t correct herself. She doesn’t calm down. She grips him for dear life and Miguel grows nervous.

Lyla was wrong…right?

“You know she will never love you the way she loved him. It will never be the same. Miguel...are you listening?”

“Lyla…shut down.”

ending a/n: Heyyyyy, did y'all like it? This will definitely not be my only Miguel fic but rn I don't really have any ideas for him. My brain is filled with thoughts of Hobie, and I need to stop neglecting my baby daddy Toji, lmao. So I'll be working on a real quick Hobie imagine and my AO3 stories as well for now. Unless I think of something else. I've been thinking about requests but I will fuck around and make a whole story from it cuz idk how to stop writing so damn much. Y'all I rly dk if I want to make another part to JFTN I rly like how it ended and I can't rly think about how I would continue it. Y'all might just have to deal idk girl. I love ya though! Anyway, I'll see y'all in the next story!🩵

AO3 version

My AO3

Masterlist

#across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spider man 2099 smut #yandere #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere miguel x reader

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live-laugh-neteyam · 1 year

Note

97 & 98 w/ whoever from the 101 prompt thing.

maybe reader got shot in the spine and is recovering, but is stubborn and doesn't ask for help. they catch reader breaking down bc she can't stand long enough to wash herself.

maybe Jake bc he can relate w/ him being in a wheelchair previously or one of the boys (Ao'nung, Roxto, Lo'ak, Neteyam) bc they feel somewhat responsible.

can b platonic or romantic, idc.

Thanks!

Take Care Of You ||| sully family x omatikaya!reader

masterlist

pairings: sully family x omatikaya!fem!reader

summary: sully’s stick together

words: 1k

warnings/notes: injury, gunshot wounds, recovery, angst with sweet moments, use of y/n

It was never supposed to happen. The bullet wasn’t meant for you. But how could you just stand there and watch when your brother was in danger? Taking fate into your own hands you pushed Neteyam out of the line of fire.

You don’t remember much after that.

In and out of consciousness you remember Neteyam pleading with you to stay awake, your father looking over your wound, and your mother’s screams. The blood curdling screams of your mother was something that you could never forget.

A miracle.

That’s what Ronal said after examining you. The bullet lodged into your spine should’ve killed you, but Eywa had shown you mercy.

Lucky.

That’s what Norm said after extracting the bullet. Jake insisted on calling Norm and Max out to look at you. Not that he didn’t trust Na’vi medicine, but he was once human. Old habits die hard.

The first few months were hell. You weren’t dead but you felt like you were. You wished you were. It would be a long road to recovery and you weren’t sure you had the patience for it.

Especially when everyone looked at you the way they did. Eyes full of guilt and regret. The pity that flood their eyes. It made you feel sick to your stomach.

Your brothers weren’t very good at hiding their guilt. There was a part of you that felt bad for them. You knew they felt at fault and they were letting it eat at them.

“I thought you were a goner.” Lo’ak joked around. His laugh never reach his eyes though. You could see the fear they still held.

Neteyam was with you on the day you finally could sit up by yourself. He was proud of you, he truly felt happiness for your accomplishment. But the guilt was crawling it’s way back up.

You were no longer the mighty warrior he grew up with. You’d never be her again. That split second decision changed the course of your life for forever. Relearning even basic things, everything would now be a challenge for you.

Neteyam hated himself for it. It wasn’t supposed to be you.

Jake was able to keep his feelings to himself. Only letting it effect him in private. He was forced to watch you struggle every single day with nothing he could do to fix it.

He related all too well with what you were going through. Jake didn’t think he’d ever have to deal with something like this again after his consciousness transfer.

But there you were, his babygirl stubbornly trying to recover on her own. He cursed your hardheadedness but a part of him understood. Jake was the exact same way when he was a human. He couldn’t stand the looks of pity he’d received; it made him work harder to prove himself.

Jake blamed himself for what happened. A father protects and he couldn’t even do that. The whole point of uprooting his family was to protect them. Every time he looked at you he was reminded of his failure.

For the past few weeks you had been working on your mobility. Everyone told you to take it slow, not to overdo it. You couldn't help but rush into things, itching for the taste of freedom you missed terribly.

Reaching out for the walking stick your father had brought you, you attempted to stand up. Wincing you leaned onto the cane even more. With one hand you dipped a rag into the bowl of water by your bedside.

You felt gross. It had been months since you had a proper bath. This wasn't what you wanted but it would have to do. Trying to run the cloth over your arm was proving harder than you originally anticipated.

Your body was starting to ache. Your legs felt like they were set on fire. Panting like you had just run a marathon you were exhausted. Not being able to stand any longer you collapsed back onto your bed.

Tears stung your eyes. You were frustrated with yourself. You weren't even able to do simple things for yourself. Grieving the life you lived before you let your sadness overtake you. Hiccuping as sobs escaped you.

Neteyam's ears twitched as he heard crying coming from your room. Protective instincts kicking in he rushed towards your room.

"Y/N?" He tentatively asked before bolting in.

The sound of your brothers voice made you prickle up. Quickly wiping off your face in hopes he wouldn't notice your tears.

His heart sank at the sight of you. Putting up a strong façade throughout your healing process, you never acted like anything bothered you. The broken girl he saw before him was new.

“You were crying, weren't you?" He asked.

“What does it matter?” You huffed.

“What’s wrong?” He breathed taking a seat next to you.

“What isn’t wrong?” You mumbled as more tears fell. “I can’t do anything anymore. I’m useless.”

“You are a lot of things sister. Stubborn and hardheaded? Yes. Useless? You could never be useless.” Neteyam gently wrapped his arm around you for a hug.

“You saved my life Y/N. How could you think so little of yourself?” He frowned.

“You would’ve done the same for me Neteyam.”

“That’s not the point. You didn’t have to. I owe you my life.” He stressed. “Now what can I do to help you?”

“It’s fine Neteyam, I don’t need anything.” You tried you best to brush him off.

“You’re hurt. Let me take care of you.” He pleaded.

“Fine.” You nodded. “Could you help me freshen up?” You asked sheepishly.

“Of course.” He jumped into action taking the discarded bowl and cloth.

“You know we’re all here for you right?” Neteyam asked after a few moments. “You don’t have to go through this alone.”

All you could do was nod. You felt stupid. Knowing you needed help and that your family was more than happy to provide it; you pushed them out trying to do everything on your own.

“What’s dad always say?” His tone teasing.

“Sully’s stick together.” You muttered rolling your eyes.

“That’s right.” Neteyam nodded as he dabbed your skin with the cloth. “You’re gonna get through this Y/N. Don’t be afraid to ask for help.”

“Okay.” You nodded. “I’ll try to be better at asking.”

Your brother nodded seemingly satisfied with your answer. You were the strongest person he knew, he had no doubt that’d you be able to pull through.

After all Sully’s stick together

Taglist:

@ilovejakesullysdick @fanboyluvr @athenalikethegoddess @loverofallthingsfandom @forasgaard @plzfeedmebread @instabull @avatarappreciationblog @romimiux @ferrtan @tammitammytime @eternallyvenus @dreamyescapesfromreality @dvxsja @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @mightyneteyam @doggyteam2028 @bananafruityawne @mooniequeen @shayligames-blog

#avatar #avatar fanfiction #avatar the way of water #avatar imagine #neteyam #fanfiction #neteyam fanfiction #becca writes 🌙#neteyam imagine #neytiri sully #jake sully #lo’ak sully #angst #sully family #sully family x reader #neteyam x sister!reader

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 5 months

Note

heyy, ignore this till ur requests are open, but i just had the best idea EVER. I've been needing some angst so... can i please get hc w reader saying their safe word w pietro and tan? xoxo

(btw can I be 🇺🇸🦅 anon?

hii lovie!! I couldn’t wait til when they’re open😭 when you sent this in, I was having thoughts about writing something like this, on the EXACT same day!! so I had to write it straight away. sue me but I love stuff like this. and yes you can:) thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

SAYING THE SAFE WORD

tangerine x fem!reader || pietro maximoff x fem!reader

word count. 761

warnings. angst (bc I love it) with comfort!! suggestive but minimal use of sexual words or descriptions. contents of ask

I feel like tangerine is always very attentive, always looking at you - studying your reactions, watching how expressive you are while he's inside you. so he frequently checks you're okay ( he's probs really big, so he's worried (??) about hurting you ) he'd see how your brows knit, but different than usual - not in pleasure. he'll pause movements, asking if you're still okay, and you'll say yeah ( trying to brush off the tinge of pain you're feeling ) because of the way you said yeah, he's a bit hesitant, so he goes extra slow. his brows would furrow and his neck would cock - watching you intently, seeing how your eyes screw closed, how you'd bite down on your lip or how your features contort

then you'd quietly murmur the safe word, maybe covering your face with your hands as if you're shielding yourself. he doesn't need to hear you properly to know what you just said. he'd very slowly pull out ( not wanting to cause you any discomfort ) he'd balance on one arm beside you and with the other would try to pry away your hands so he could see and cup your face. he'd be very soft and loving, whispering, "what's going on? love? talk to me, tell me what's going on," maybe he thumbs away and/or kisses your stray tear, his face very empathetic. "did I hurt you? did something happen?" he kinda rambles with it, not knowing how you're feeling or what to say or do. maybe it's the first time you've said it, and he feels awful about it. he tells you how sorry he is and kisses your cheek, asking you to tell him what's wrong

he's very sweet with you, and you appreciate it, maybe you don't feel like talking right now, so you ask to cuddle for a bit. he doesn't try to pursue anything else with you, even if you ask for it. you'd cuddle in silence ( spooning ) but his head would be very loud - questions and guilt spinning around. he tells you he loves you, softly speaking behind your ear, you tell him that you know and kiss his hand, holding it close to your chest ( heart bc 🥲 )

I feel like with pietro he often gets a little carried away with things, so he'd be working you up in more ways than one - his hands and lips all over you. maybe he forgets you don't have the same stamina and tolerance as him, so time slips his mind sometimes. maybe it's been a couple rounds, and he's been teasing you too much - doing you too good for too long

he'd have his eyes closed, maybe his face tucked into the crook of your neck - he can't really see you. maybe you make a cry-like noise, but he's not able to differentiate it from the others just yet. you'd have silent tears streaming down your face and would mumble the safe word - barely audible. he thinks it's a choked-out mutter and that you're rambling, so you say it again a few times - mushing the words together because of how quickly you're saying it. he'd piece it together quickly and would whip his head up to look at you, his face would display like 7 reactions in 2 seconds - guilt, shame, upset etc and he would snatch himself from you. his hands would instantly cup your cheeks, blurting out how sorry he is. talking very empathetically, "no— aw, no baby, i'm so sorry. you okay? what happened?"

you kinda shake your head, quickly wiping your eyes - maybe shifting up the bed ( to make it extra angsty😏 ) he wouldn't let you get away, he'd follow you, eyes fixed on you - head moving to follow you sorta thing. he'd apologise profusely, telling you how he didn't mean to hurt you and how he got carried away and he was being selfish. he'd hesitantly hold you while you calm/ come down, softly stroking your arm and/ or hand

you'd roll into him, hugging him back and asking if he's okay - and that you're sorry for scaring him. you reassure him you're okay and tell him you love him because you know he feels awfully guilty

to sum, I think you'd say it with tan bc of how consuming and intense he can be, but with pietro, you'd say it bc of how much he does at the same time or bc of his crazy stamina

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

#request #🦅🇺🇸#tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #tangerine angst #tangerine x you #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine headcanon #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro x reader #pietro maximoff x you #pietro maximoff headcanon

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inlovewithgreta · 7 months

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Potions — Cordelia Goode x Fem!Reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Summary: Cordelia had been perfecting a potion for weeks now, and it was finally time to put it to the test.

Warnings: aphrodisiac potion, mentions of alcohol, praise kink, explicit language, use of magical abilities, scissoring, fingering, oral, etc…

Word Count: 2.7k

a/n: apologies for the extremely slow updates, I’ve been swamped with work and dealing with personal issues and mental health problems. thank y’all for being so patient with me! 💛

...also I was going to make the potion take longer to work but I’m a whore and wanted to write smut. although I did leave an opening for perhaps a part two??

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"How much longer, 'Delia?" You asked, sneaking your arms around the blonde's slim waist. "I'm growing cold up there without my favorite supreme wrapped in my arms." Your lips couldn't help but fall into a pout as you rested your chin on her shoulder.

"I'm the only supreme, darling." She giggled, keeping her focus on the two glasses in front of her as she dumped a maroon colored liquid just below the rims. "And I'm just finishing up. I think I've finally perfected it!" She bit her plump bottom lip, turning her head to face you with excitement.

"Finally," you gave the blonde a quick kiss. "I really hope this works this time. I can't wait to see which one of us gives in first." You smirked against her lips.

"We haven't even drank it yet and you're already kissing me, darling. It's going to be you. You're very needy."

You protrude your bottom lip in a faux pout that only elicited a wider smile from the blonde and another quick peck to your lips in a reassuring kiss.

"God, I love when you make that face. It's absolutely adorable."

You playfully rolled your eyes at her words and tugged at her shirt to bring her to the plush blanket sprawled out and decorated with a few scattered pillows that sat just a few feet away from the lit fireplace.

Cordelia was well coordinated, and didn't spill a single drop of her newest concoction at your eagerness to bring her back towards the warmth.

You were first to plop down, Cordelia offering your drink to you before she sat down beside you, shoulders just barely touching yours.

"Nuh uh, not so fast, darling." Cordelia stopped your glass from tipping any further when you were too caught up in excitement over your drink. "We have to drink it at the exact same time."

You had nearly forgotten about the specifics, her concoctions always had to be done the way she said so, and it wasn't your place to question the witch when she gave you an order.

Cordelia admired your excitement. It always put a smile on her face that you were always so keen on trying new things, especially if it was something she made specifically for you.

"I really hope this works," Cordelia said quietly.

"It will. I just know it." You reassured her.

The witch then cleared her throat and held her glass towards you, and you were sure to clink your glass against hers in unison before both of you took your first sips from the dark substance.

You let out a sound of approval as the liquid hit your tastebuds. A sweet mix of apple, cinnamon, and a dash of alcohol entered your system. It tasted warm and inviting, the drink instantly putting you at ease...or so you thought.

Your gaze flicked over to the woman next to you who was still focused on her drink. Too focused to notice the way your eyes darkened when her tongue slowly swiped along the sugar coated rim on her glass.

You could feel your cheeks grow warm, and it wasn't just from the fireplace. It felt like you were heating up from the inside out. Your thoughts were in the gutter as a familiar ache grew between your legs.

You tried to play it off by nonchalantly repositioning yourself and squeezing your thighs together, the action not going unnoticed by the blonde.

Cordelia smirked and gulped down the rest of her drink, purposely tipping her glass far too much to let a few stray droplets of liquid fall from the corner of her mouth and land upon the upper swell of her breast.

The witch nonchalantly swiped her thumb along the droplet before sucking the liquid from her finger, purposely eliciting a low moan to play with you.

"How are you feeling, baby? You're looking a little...flushed." Her curved lashes fluttered as her dilated gaze moved from your face down to your bare thighs that were heavily pressed together.

"It's just a bit hot in here, that's all." You attempted to ignore her lustful gaze, instead busying yourself by downing the rest of the homemade potion.

The blonde tugged at the strap of your dress, slowly sliding it down to reveal more of your soft, smooth skin. "I would say I can fix that, but at this rate, it's only going to get much hotter in here." Your gaze flew back to the witch, who looked ethereal with the glow from the fireplace hitting half of her face in just the right place.

"Is that a fact or a promise?" You toyed, pointer finger flicking at the buttons that held her silk blouse together.

"Come here and find out," she bit her plump bottom lip, eyes sparkling with desire.

You nearly pounced on the witch, knocking the glasses out of the way as your lips engulfed hers in a fiery kiss. Cordelia's hands found the hem of your dress, lifting the fabric over your hips and tugging at it, in a way that told you to help her remove the clothing item.

The dress flew to an unknown location after you briefly broke the kiss to help her, neither of you caring where it went and instead rejoining your lips.

You straddled her waist, fingers fumbling with the buttons of her shirt and groaning out of frustration into the kiss as you struggled to free her of her clothing.

A loud rip tore through the room, buttons flying in multiple directions as you managed to tear her blouse open and slide it from her body.

"I loved that shirt," Cordelia mumbled against your lips.

"I'll buy you a new one."

In this moment, you didn't care about the shirt, you cared about how the woman you were straddling was intoxicating. Her floral scent was stronger, her skin felt softer, and the way she had your pussy wet from just a kiss drove you mad with desire.

Cordelia slowly fell back against the cushioned blanket, your lips leaving hers to place tender kisses along her jawline before nipping at the skin along her neck.

"Mm, fuck that worked quicker than I thought it would," Cordelia admitted after eliciting a low moan at your mouth leaving marks down from her neck to her chest.

You couldn't help but let out a laugh at her words before moving her sheer bra to the side, allowing you access to her breast. An eager tongue flicked at her hardened nipple before your mouth latched onto her tit. Your free hand grasped at her other breast, moving the same fabric to the side so you can twist her nipple between your fingers.

Cordelia's breath hitched, back briefly arching from the ground as you gave her chest the attention she was craving.

"Fuck, I need more. It's not enough," she whimpered as her hips just barely bucked below you.

"Mmm, who's the needy one now?" You mumbled, sending wet kisses down past her navel.

Cordelia wrapped a hand in your hair, pulling slightly at the strands just enough to elicit a moan from you, and force your face to look up at her.

"How about you just use that pretty little mouth to fuck me."

You only smirked at her words as you returned to kissing along her body, but stopping along her hip bone to leave fresh love bites along her porcelain skin.

Cordelia squirmed when your head reached her lace panties. Her body ached for you. Hips bucked in anticipation as your teeth took hold of her panties, slowly sliding the thin fabric down her legs.

Your eyes never left hers as you kissed your way up her calves, across her inner thighs, and over to her bare wet pussy. You had never seen her so wet before, and you couldn't wait to taste her dripping cunt.

Your tongue licked the strip up her folds, Cordelia immediately raking her fingers through your hair. You circled her clit slowly and meticulously that forced a sinful moan out of the witch.

"Just like that—" Her smooth legs held you close, while her fingers held your head right where she wanted you.

Cordelia was quick to fall into a blissful state as you lavished her cunt, the fireplace behind you crackling loudly, flames growing brighter the more pleasure you gave Cordelia.

"M-more, I need more! Please," the sound of your lover begging only encouraged you to give her everything she desired.

A single finger easily slid past her entrance covered in arousal, the added sensation leaving Cordelia breathless. As you multitasked, tongue swiping at her clit and finger slowly sliding in and out of her, Cordelia's back arched ever so slightly with quiet whimpers escaping past her lips.

You couldn't help but gaze at the woman in front of you, the way her porcelain skin flowed under the firelight. The way her body squirmed at your touch. And you couldn't help but hum in approval when the grip on your hair tightened.

"Fuck, I need more! Baby please!"

A second finger slid inside her cunt, instantly finding the soft spot with each thrust that had elongated moans reverberating off the dimly lit walls.

Cordelia could feel her body heating up, beads of sweat forming along her chest and forehead, both from warmth from the fire and her own body working itself up from pleasure.

"How's that feel, baby?" You sweetly asked, eyes noting every movement Cordelia made.

"Soo good," the blondes breath was shaky and low.

You picked up your pace against her cunt, ignoring the strain you felt against your forearm as you worked your way to give Cordelia the best treatment she deserves.

Cordelia could feel the welcoming knot in her abdomen, fingers gripping onto your hair to keep your head in place. The witch wasn't taking any chances of you pulling away and making her wait to finish.

"I'm so close.." Her eyes grew bright from the dancing flames as her gaze fell upon you between her legs.

"Let go, baby."

Cordelia's legs stiffened around you, a sharp gasp followed by the roaring of the fireplace behind you let you know that the witch was at her peak. Her back had lifted from the floor, toes curling, and fingers pulling at your hair.

"Fuck!"

The blonde was unable to form a full sentence as she came along your fingers that refused to stop, allowing your lover to ride her high as long as possible.

You hummed as you tasted her along your tongue, slowing your movements little by little on her cunt. Cordelia's vision went blurry, chest riding and falling rapidly as she attempted to catch her breath.

"Okay, okay— I can't—" Cordelia pulled at your hair, forcing your head away from her dripping pussy.

You swiped at your bottom lip with a smirk, immediately crawling your way up her lightly freckled body to engulf her in a heated kiss. You were quick to straddle her, hands fiddling with her tits as her tongue dipped into your mouth.

Her own hands roamed your body, sliding down your sides before grabbing hold of your hips and pulling you the rest of the way down to her. Your wet pussy pressed against her own, and your hips couldn't help but needlessly grind down against her.

"Oh my god..." your words were breathless into the kiss.

Her grip was tight along your hips, manicured nails ever so slightly digging into your skin as she guided you back and forth.

"That feels so good," you whimpered.

Cordelia was already sensitive due to her previous orgasm, but the newfound pleasure from your clit grinding against hers had her eager to chase after another high.

"Let me see you, baby." Cordelia was not only eager to reach another orgasm, but she was even more eager to watch you grind yourself against her.

With one last kiss to her lips, and gently pulling at her lower as you lifted up, Cordelia's chestnut eyes danced over your figure.

There was nothing the witch loved more than to see you on top of her. The way your hair fell around your face, the slight jiggle in your tits as you moved, and the way your hips needlessly moved as you pleasured yourself on her.

"You're so damn beautiful," her hands dipped behind you, grabbing a steady hold of your ass.

Your own hands squeezed at her tits as you held yourself together, a loud hum escaping your throat at her words as your own mouth was unable to form a sentence.

"Just like that, baby. You're doing so good."

You could feel the heat creep onto your cheeks, not from the roaring fireplace behind you, but from the words coming from Cordelia's lips.

She loved praising you and admiring you just as much as you loved to hear it from her. It only made you want to work harder, do your best to ensure you would hear those words again.

You could feel your legs begin to stiffen and your hips start moving at their own pace, and you could feel yourself getting worked up towards your release.

You easily slid across Cordelia's soaked pussy, low moans filling the room as the both of you felt the pleasure only increase.

"So..close..." you whimpered.

"Not yet, baby. I'm almost there. Just a little bit longer."

Cordelia's nails dragged along your hips, leaving minor scratches in their wake that only elicited another moan from you as you lazily nodded your head at her words.

Your stomach tightened and you knew you could finish right then and there, but if Cordelia said to wait, then you would wait for her. You love when you came together. The way your bodies would orgasm at the same time, filling you both with a feeling of euphoria and bliss.

"I can't— 'Delia, please," you whined.

Cordelia's head fell back, mouth agape as her own hips moved in the opposite directions yours did to speed up the process.

It didn't take long thereafter for the witch to nod her head rapidly, moans becoming more consistent as she hurried quickly towards her release.

"Fuck! Come with me!" The words flew from her mouth just before she pulled her bottom lip sharply between her teeth.

Cordelia's legs shook while your breathing stopped, all sounds coming from you going silent as you came along Cordelia's cunt. The blonde followed you soon after, eyebrows knitting as her grip along your hips never ceased.

The flames from the dimly lit candles spread throughout the room went out in a flash, only the fire from the fireplace cascading a glow over both you and Cordelia.

You gasped as you finally caught your breath, Cordelia loosening her grip on you to instead ease up your shaky movements. Your body shook as Cordelia's hands slid to your back, urging your body forward to press her lips against yours.

Your breasts fell in line with Cordelia's as your hands slid to her slim waist. The blonde couldn't help but close her legs, squeezing her thighs tightly together as your lips were pressed together as one.

Cordelia sighed after you broke from the kiss for air, your head immediately falling to the crook of her neck. Her fingers ran tender lines up and down your back as you gave her neck a tender kiss, both of you silently laying there in each other's arms.

The witch was expecting the effects of the potion to wear off by now, but grew curious as to why when she was pressing her thighs together, that she felt the same ache between her thighs as before.

She needed more. Craved for more. Desired more.

You could feel the woman move slightly beneath you, but she gave you no chance to think on it when she expertly flipped the two of you over, eliciting an unexpected gasp from you. The woman now sat on top of you, eyes completely filled with desire as she lowered her lips to hover just centimeters over yours.

"Oh I'm not done just yet." A wicked smirk toyed at her lips, mascara covered eyelashes fluttering as she lowered her tone next to your ear. "I want to ride your face. To feel you lavish every inch of me. To come along your tongue as my fingers play with your pussy."

You felt the same ache she did, the need for more pushing you to force your lips back against hers in a heated kiss that left both of you feeling feral.

If that's what Cordelia wanted, you were going to give it to her... and so much more.

#sarah paulson #cordelia goode x reader #cordelia goode #ahs coven #american horror story #ahs fanfic #ahs fandom #fanfic #smut #lesbiansmut #wlw smut #oneshot #praise #scissor sisters #let’s hope there’s not many mistakes

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golbrocklovely · 1 year

Text

careful what you wish for: halloween special // sam golbach

A/N: i've been asked countless times over for a sequel to the sequel and so... here's what i got for you: choose your own adventure ! will you choose vampire!sam or demon!colby? or maybe you'll indulge yourself with both fics. either way, your night is gonna be very busy ;) happy halloween ! hope you enjoy.

prompt: it's been a while since you last saw the boys, and sam has made it known that he wants you all to himself tonight. || vampire!sam x reader

trigger warning: SO. MUCH. SMUT, knifeplay, bloodplay, drinking blood (from both parties), oh yeah... we're going there, lots of vampire biting, supernatural powers, some forcing thru said powers so be mindful of that, oral (for and from both parties), unprotected sex, check-ins, mentions of: babygirl, whore, slut, cumdump, cursing, sam is very aggressive and crazy about you, also... colby's dead but like... not really lol

word count: 2705

~~~~~~~~~

It had been quite some time since you last saw Sam and Colby. They tended to appear in your life like a fire, setting your whole body and life ablaze; but then disappear like smoke. It was confusing but thrilling all at the same time. The hatred you once had for them had now been stifled by the immense amount of lust you felt for them.

They showed up whenever they wanted to, even if you had been begging for them to appear prior. But, they always had a way of letting you know they were close. Recently, Sam had started leaving notes all around your house. The first one was sort of sweet, a ‘I'm thinking of you’ type of message. The next one was a bit more concerning... ‘I love to watch you.’

Colby was right about one thing: Sam was a bit of a freak.

But the one that couldn't leave your mind? ‘I can't wait to taste you again. I'm going to have you all to myself.’

And knowing Sam, this message had multiple meanings.

On a quiet fall night, Halloween to be exact, the boys came to your house. It was abrupt, but you were excited nonetheless to see them.

Colby smirked as you answered the door. “Trick-or-treat, princess.”

“Have you missed us?” Sam asked playfully.

You rolled your eyes as the boys forced their way in. “Of course. What else am I supposed to do to pass the time than miss you guys?”

“Oooh, she's feeling sassy tonight,” Colby whistled, then his tone shifted. “God, I can't wait to take you in every part of your house.”

“I don't think that's gonna happen tonight, Colby.” Sam stated.

Colby raised an eyebrow at Sam, "Why?"

In a split second, Sam's hands wrapped around Colby's neck, snapping it with a loud crack. Colby's lifeless body dropped hard to the ground.

You shrieked. “Oh my God! Did you just kill him?”

“No. He's fine. He's a demon for Christ's sake. He's immortal. He's just...” Sam pursed his lips, trying to find the right words. “Out, for the time being.”

Your eyes couldn't remove themselves from Colby's still body. It made your heart race, with fear and arousal, that Sam could easily do something like that. How powerful he was.

He walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your torso, "I told you; I wanted you all to myself. And now, I get to have you."

He pulled you into the kitchen, not too far away from Colby's dead body, and pushed you against the counter.

“Do you want to know something, baby?” He asked.

“What?” You responded, placing your hands on his shoulders.

“On Halloween.... my powers are crazy strong.” He confessed.

You cocked your head. “Really?”

“Yeah. But not only that, my blood.... why don't you have a taste?” Sam grabbed a knife from your block of knives, pushing the tip lightly against his neck and slicing his skin open. Blood slid down his neck, his shirt soaking it up immediately.

You hesitated, side-eying him. “Uh... I don't know.”

Sam cut you short. “Oh sweetheart, I insist.”

You shook your head. “I don't really-”

His voice turned monotone, but commanding. “Drink me.”

You felt your mouth latch onto Sam's cut instantly, not a second thought crossing your mind. For a split second, you were uncomfortable with his blood pouring into your mouth, but the moment you tasted it.... it set your whole body on fire.

You moaned into his neck, drinking more and more of his blood. It felt like liquid ecstasy. Every one of your senses heightened the more you drank. Goosebumps rose across your body, and you felt like you were on cloud nine.

“Enough, baby girl.” Sam spoke.

You pulled your mouth away, but you wanted to continue drinking from him. It was so addictive.

“How do you feel?” He questioned slyly.

You inhaled happily, “So... fucking good. Fuck, I feel high but in the best way.”

He smiled. “Well, you deserve it. Plus, it's gonna make everything I do to you tonight so much better.”

His words affected you deeply. You could already feel your panties dampening. It must have been from his blood, but everything about him in this moment was turning you on, exciting you.

“But first...” Sam continued. “Tit for tat, Y/N.”

You were a bit confused, lost in your own thoughts. But suddenly, Sam's eyes turned red, his fangs sliding out. He bit into your neck a second later, groaning against you. You gasped, your body relaxing against his hold and the counter. You already felt lightheaded and him drinking your blood made it even harder to think. He grinded his hips against yours as he drank from you. You could already feel his bulge against you, pleasure surging up your body from the sensation. You pressed your hips harder into his, needing some form of relief. You clawed at his shoulders, your eyes rolling back in your head.

Sam yanked his head away, licking your blood off his lips. "Fuck me. You taste divine, baby girl."

You could barely string together a thought. All you could manage to say was "Please.... I need you."

“Hmmm, is that so? Are you aching for me?” He teased.

You nodded your head, “Yesssss.”

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He inquired, biting his lip.

You squeezed your thighs together, “Yeah, I do.”

His stare intensified as his eyes met yours, “Is your clit desperate for my tongue?”

You whined, almost speechless. "Sam..."

“Okay, okay. If you insist.” He chucked darkly.

Sam grabbed the knife from before, pressing it against the top of your shirt. "Don't move, okay? Wouldn't want you getting hurt..."

He pushed the knife in with such precision, you could feel it tickle your skin but never cut it. You held your breath, not sure what he was doing. But suddenly he slid the knife down your body; your shirt cutting in half. You could feel the fabric rip against your skin hastily, and your breath hitched.

"There we go," Sam pulled what was left of your shirt off, leaving you completely naked from the waist up. "Now... these little shorts."

The tip of the knife pressed into your hip bone, your body trembling in anticipation. Even though you should be scared, you couldn't help feeling so aroused.

"Don't worry, baby. I got you. I would never hurt you," Sam whispered huskily into your ear. He moved the knife in one swift motion, and your shorts fell off your body. "See?"

Sam placed the knife back on the counter, cupping your hips tenderly. "Now these panties? I think... I'll just take them off with my teeth."

His fangs slid out once more. You kept eye contact with him as he dropped to his knees effortlessly. Then he pressed his lips lightly against the top of your panties, trailing kisses across your skin. Feeling his mouth so close to your sex made your clit throb. Your head lulled, your back arching. Sam bit into the band of your underwear, pulling them down expertly. You pushed them off as they fell to the floor. He smirked, his eyes landing on your dripping sex.

Before you could even plead for him to move, his mouth was already on you. His tongue lapped at your hole, darting in and out. You thrusted against him, gripping the counter tightly. It must have been his blood making you feel like you were already about to come because it had never taken such little action to make you so close so fast.

You shuddered, “Holy shit, Sam! God, you feel so fucking goooood!”

“That's right, Y/N. Fuck my tongue like the slut you are. Go crazy for me.” He laughed mischievously.

And you did just as he said. You bucked your hips with wanton, your moans echoing off the walls of your kitchen. You could feel Sam's hand reach up, his fingers rubbing your clit lazily. The added pressure made your thighs shake. You felt electricity shoot through your whole body as your orgasm began to build.

You desired more, “Oh my God, Sam! Pleaseeee, rub me harder.”

“Is that what my little whore wants?” He jeered.

Your pussy reacted to the name, clenching, “Yesss.”

He grinned evilly. “Then beg me for it.”

You wailed, knees shaking from the pressure on your clit. “Sam, please. I need it so bad! Fuck!”

“I don't know...” He tsked. “Do you really deserve it?”

You weren't sure why, but you couldn't handle his playful banter tonight. You needed to come so. fucking. badly. You glanced at the knife, and before you could even stop yourself, you grabbed it and placed it against his neck.

He froze as you hissed down at him. “Rub. My. Clit.”

Sam’s eyes went red at your command, his fangs popping out. He growled darkly, "Oh FUCK yeah baby girl!"

He latched onto your clit, his mouth wildly fucking your cunt. You tossed the knife back on the counter, desperately panting as heat pooled in your belly. Sam glided two fingers deep into you, fucking you hastily. He raised one leg onto his shoulder, your pleasure growing more from the new angle. You could feel yourself edging, Sam rubbing your clit faster and faster.

“Come as I drink your blood.”

He sunk his teeth into your thigh, and your body exploded in ecstasy. The pleasure was so intense that your legs gave out on you, but Sam was able to keep you from falling over. He gripped your hip with one hand, pressing you into the counter. Your hips moved on their own, fucking his fingers until finally slowing down. Sam removed his teeth from your thigh with a soft moan.

He exhaled, looking up at you. “How's my baby girl? You doing okay?”

“I'm... so good. I think I can stand on my own now.” You sighed deeply.

He slid his hand off you and removed his fingers from your sex gently. He stood up, pressing his body into yours.

Sam rubbed your arms softly, “You know, you threatening me with that knife was very hot.”

“I don't know where that came from.” You blushed, embarrassed.

He answered, “My blood, most likely. It brings out the animalistic side of anyone that drinks it.”

“Oh... good to know.” You giggled.

He cleared his throat, his eyes landing on yours. “Well, now that you got to use me for your pleasure...”

“Tit for tat?” You guessed.

He hummed, a mischievous glimmer in his eye, "Exactly."

Sam spun you around, bending you over against the counter. You gasped at the speed, hearing him rip his clothes off in one swift motion. Then, he suddenly lined himself up with your entrance, his cock already dripping with precum.

“I'm taking everything I need from you, Y/N. You're mine.” Sam snapped.

He plunged himself deep inside of you, a loud groan falling from his lips. Your pussy clenched around him, your back arching. “You are such a little whore for me, aren't you Y/N? No point in denying it. You took me so easily; you needed me so badly.”

You nodded your head, unable to form words as he passionately thrusted. Your body shook against the counter with each of his thrusts, your hands grabbing onto anything you could just to hold on.

Sam’s groans were unrestrained. “God, baby girl, you're such a slut. Look at you, taking my cock so well.”

“Mmmm, you make me feel so good, Sam.” You purred.

“Better than Colby. Say it. Say I'm better than him.” He demanded.

You bit your lip, agreeing with Sam. “You are better than Colby.”

He chuckled, “That's right. He can't make you feel like this, can he?”

You shuddered against him, his cock hitting something deep inside you, making it hard to breathe. "Yessss, fuck. Yes, Sam."

Sam clutched your hips tightly, pounding into you quickly. His hand slithered into your hair, yanking your head back as he pulled. The sensation was electrifying, your pussy quivering. You could feel the buildup of your orgasm rising again.

“My whore. My slut. My good girl. You're not allowed to be anyone else's. Only mine!” Sam dictated.

You panted, “Yes Sam! Only yours! Fuck, please go faster.”

His thrusts sped up, ravaging your cunt. The hand in your hair slid back down your body, spanking your ass once. You gasped, and before you could say anything else, his fingers moved to your clit, massaging carelessly.

“Oh my God! Please touch me more!” You screeched.

“Do you deserve it? Do you deserve to come again?” He asked, slowing down his movements.

You rubbed yourself against his hand, needing any friction you could get. “Yes! Please!”

He held you still for just a moment, “Are you gonna be my good girl?”

You mewled, begging for him, “Yes! Yes, I'll be your good girl!”

He pressed his fingers harder against your clit. The added pressure made your knees buckle, your pussy leaking in pleasure.

“Fuck, I'm gonna come Sam!” You whimpered loudly.

“I'm right there too, baby girl. Come for me. Do it!” He ordered harshly.

Your pussy spasmed around Sam's cock, your juices leaking down your thighs as his cum filled you up. You bucked wildly against him, moaning wantonly and incoherently. His grunts were loud, his hips smashing into yours a final time before stopping.

You both rested against the counter for a minute or two, catching your breath. Sam suddenly perked up, pulling out of you.

“Get on your knees for me, Y/N. I'm not done with you yet.” He barked.

You turned towards Sam, dropping down to your knees without another thought.

Sam hissed, “I'm gonna fuck your mouth until I come again. I want to fill you up as much as I can tonight.”

His cock pushed towards your lips, and you felt your mouth drop open. You took his cock deeply, sighing at the heavy feeling of it. You bobbed your head, taking him in and out. You could taste yourself on him, making your cunt ache with abandonment.

“You really are gonna be my cumdump tonight,” he laughed cruelly. “I filled up your pussy, and now I'm gonna fill up your mouth.”

You hummed around his member, your tongue swirling up and down his shaft.

"Fuck, your mouth.... no wonder why Colby loves to use it. Jesus, I'm not gonna last long." He snarled, his hips trembling.

You licked the underside of his dick, wrapping your hand around it and jerking him as you did so. He cursed your name, then pulled himself away from your mouth.

He tilted your head up to look at him. Then he whispered huskily, "You're gonna hold your head still, and I'm gonna face fuck you and come down your throat."

You felt your head freeze, your mouth watering at Sam's words. He slid his cock back into your mouth, fucking you harshly. Every thrust into your mouth turned you on and seeing him in pure ecstasy made you wet.

He gritted his teeth, holding the sides of your face, “That's it. Take it, slut. Be my cumdump, take every inch of me. Fuck, I'm so close.”

You stared up at him, your eyes watering as you choked on his member. His eyes landed on yours and you could feel him start to leak more and more onto your tongue.

A guttural groan ripped through Sam, "Take every drop, Y/N. That's it, fuck! I'm coming!"

He buried his cock deep inside you, his cum sliding down your throat and filling you up. Your body vibrated with little bursts of pleasure, almost like mini orgasms shaking through you. You swallowed his load until he pulled himself out. Your mouth leaked with spit and cum, your eyes lulling back with exhaustion.

Sam helped you to your feet, checking on you. "Are you okay, baby?"

You nodded lazily; your body spent from all the pleasure. He held you against him, kissing your cheek sweetly.

You heard a groaning from the other room. You peered over Sam’s shoulder, confused by the noise. Then, Colby slinked into the kitchen, rubbing his neck.

"Bro... not cool." He spat, grimacing.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Colby's Part >>

#sam golbach fanfiction #sam golbach fanfic #sam golbach smut #sam golbach x reader #sam golbach #sam golbach fic #sam golbach oneshot #sam golbach one shot #sam golbach story #colby brock #sam and colby #golbrocklovely's 13 nights of halloween

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haveyouseenthisskeleton · 3 months

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s/o and the skellies just started dating very recently, s/o wants it to take it slow, considering this is their first ever relationship and doesn't really know how things work yet so things seemed to be the way it was before just s/o is more shy and awkward, also nervous when asking permission to hold hands or even hug them, they're not that straightforward of a person, however, once s/o had finally mustered up the courage even though they're fumbling their words, avoiding eye contact with them, and quietly but still could be heard 'May I kiss you?' this is also their first time and doesn't want to mess things up.

Undertale Sans - He's the most patient guy ever, lucky you. He's chill as hell, and not pressuring you in any way (and it's definitely not because he's terrified of getting too fast as well, not at all). When you ask if you can kiss him, he nods anxiously, avoiding your stare at all costs. He looks really calm on the outside, but he's really just screaming in his head right now.

Undertale Papyrus - Papyrus is probably not the best choice. Even though he has the best intentions, he's going to pressure you as when he's in love, he's not very aware of how pushy he can be. He tries to knock it off when you tell him he's too much, but he's still too much. If somehow it works, he's going to be ecstatic though that you want to kiss him.

Underswap Sans - OH THANK TORIEL, YES! HE WAS GOING TO DIE. It took you long enough, and he was getting so frustrated over this. He's so happy you're willing to try the next step. He can't believe how patient he is honestly, he must love you very much to actually succeed in making him wait for a while.

Underswap Papyrus - The funny part is that you both ask that at the exact same moment. Honey is going through the same struggles. The first few times are really awkward, but as time passes by, he gets a little more bold. Like you, he managed to gather some courage... Only to be beaten as you ask the same question at the same moment. Now you're both broken, staring at the emptiness, flushing hard and not saying anything. Welp, that's awkward...

Underfell Sans - He holds his breath when you ask if you can kiss him, and then he completely forgets how to breathe. He waits for you to make a move, but he waits so long he realizes after like two minutes he can't breathe anymore and just suddenly start coughing as you're making the gesture to kiss you, stopping you. You just think he rejected you, but then he grabs your shoulders and kiss you at full mouth. So sorry he's an idiot, please don't mind how stupid he is, he's so sorry T-T

Underfell Papyrus - Well that's good because he has no idea how that works either. And he said no, because his dating manual said you should be in a romantic place to have first kiss and they're... In the couch? In his house? With Doomfanger on his laps? That's not romantic so it won't work. You're confused but just figures he's not ready yet. When he sees how disappointed you are, he froze. The manual didn't say you would be sad???? He doesn't want you to be sad! Hum... You're getting kidnapped. He's taking you to a correct romantic place.

Horrortale Sans - ??? You didn't before? Uh. He thought you already did. He just shrugs and leans his head. No big deal. He lets you kiss him then he purrs happily. He's still not sure if you're already with him or not so he'll just assume you are lol.

Horrortale Papyrus - He blushes furiously and visibly starts to panic as he's looking everywhere frantically. Willow likes to plan things. This isn't planned at all and you took him by surprise. Well, now, he's kinda cornered so... Yes? If you want? He can't look you in the eyes either. He's both excited and terrified right now.

Swapfell Sans - Well, yes, duh. He kinda made sure to show you how many signs he could possibly do to show you he's ready to go further if you're ready. Let's go ahead and get over this already. Wow, that's the most passive-aggressive yes ever. You have mixed feelings.

Swapfell Papyrus - He screams yes excitedly. But... Of course, he's going to put his feet on your face for you to kiss. You didn't precise which part you wanted to kiss, so he chose for you. You can't believe this just happened. Rus is not helping. He's not serious enough for this, maybe he's not the best choice.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He doesn't stop reading his book and just nods at you. He won't make any effort to help you though lol. That's Wine, he's emotionally constipated, don't expect much.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He stares at you in shock. You mean like... kissing kissing? Like for real? Uh. He didn't expect you to say that out of nowhere. He's kinda freaking out right now. He looks like a rabbit stuck in front of a car, hyperventilating. If he doesn't move, maybe you won't see him and he won't have to answer the question.

#undertale #underswap #underfell #horrortale #swapfell #fellswap gold #sans #papyrus #undertale ask blog #undertale asks #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons

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wonyui · 1 year

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ENEMIES TO WHAT? | K.CW

PAIRINGS Kim!Chaewon x F!Reader

SUMMARY You knew the exact buttons to push when it came to getting on Chaewon's nerves. Funny enough, it seems all her attention is now on you after catching her ex in the same party the both of you were in. Just how far is she willing to go in order to piss her ex off?

GENRE WLW, one-shot, enemies to lovers, fluffish(?), romance ig, jealousy, mentions of name calling and swearing, LOTS OF SWEARING beware

"You're staring again." Your best friend Yunjin sighed in disapproval.

You've been staring at Chaewon for what seemed like an eternity. Although the two of you knew each that well to start an argument without no second thoughts, it wasn't that good enough to start a normal conversation.

Groaning and feeling like a total poser, Yunjin softly patted you on the back. "Dude, just go up to her."

It was generous of Yunjin to try and give you the courage you needed, but that wasn't exactly the reason why you couldn't try. "And what? be a total asshole by insulting her for god knows how many times I try to control it?" You took a sip of Yunjin's filled cup of alcohol, "Ugh, what's with this disgusting alcohol mix?'

Taking back her drink, Yunjin glared. "Excuse me. It might not taste the best, but it surely gets me wasted."

'Of course," you plainly thought, knowing exactly who to watch out for the whole night. "Don't drink too much it's gonna be a pain to drag your ass into the car."

"Haha, very funny. My alcohol tolerance is stronger than what I go through when I have to tolerate you." She basically slurred, sounding so out of it.

Rolling your eyes, you excused yourself to find the certain someone who would entertain you whenever you'd get on her nerves. A few steps was all it took before a pair of hands could pull you out of the crowd. "What the fuck?" You hissed, hands hurting from the strong grip that the person had on you.

"Good to see you too," Chaewon scoffed. "Anyway, listen. I need a favor."

Your eyes widened after realizing who it was. Looking down and seeing that she still had her hands on yours, you tugged it away so that damn asshole in your chest wouldn't beat too loud.

"What do you want." Chaewon ignored your recent action, finding herself to blame it on the fact that you were nothing but a weirdo. An attractive weirdo at that.

Looking back at what seemed to be another random yet pretty girl, Chaewon looked back at you and muttered out a few curse words before opening her mouth to speak. "Okay fuck look," you silently waited for her to carry on, "that's my douchebag of an ex girlfriend. She thinks I'm still into her, and I need someone to prove I'm not."

"And you want me to be that someone?" You crossed your arms, looking unimpressed, but the butterflies that built up were telling a different tale.

The same age latter nodded.

"And what do I get out of this?" She didn't look at all surprised, already figured out that you would have asked for something in return because you were an absolute jerk who insulted people for a living.

It was truly an art to see the way she frowned out of annoyance, controlling herself in order to not punch you. The way her teeth clenched made her look somewhat cute yet scary. "Jesus, you greedy fuck. What do you want?"

"I'll think about it." it was obviously a smart decision to save the best for the last. "What's your plan, by the way?"

She blinked, realizing that she didn't have a plan for this to go through and work so decently. "Sorry, what."

"Your plan..?"

"I don't have one."

"Seriously?"

"Can't you just flirt your ass through like you've been doing ever since high-school?"

It was totally uncalled for. True, but totally uncalled for. You laughed, finding her insults even more amusing and funny. "Nothing is funny, she's looking."

Judging from the way that her ex had been drilling daggers into your poor soul, it was kinda working. Taking some part of Chaewon's hair and twirling it with a flirty smile, it made it look natural as if the two of you weren't exactly new to this thing.

"What are you doing?" Chaewon looked red at the moment, slapping your hands when her ex looked away for a few seconds.

She was a stone. Hard stone, to be exact. Just how did she expect for you to flirt? Say some cringy pick-up lines that would have looked silly to her ex because the music was booming louder than everyone else's voices?

"I'm flirting," you mentally facepalmed. "Would you rather I say some useless pickup lines that would have looked as though we were having a normal conversation?"

"Yes." She immediately responded.

She was honestly inexperienced and clueless to the whole thing of making someone jealous. It was both frustrating but a sight to see, just how bad was she at this? Taking another shot of alcohol that someone left on the table, you mustered even more courage. "It wouldn't work that way. You do realize that actions speak louder than words right?"

Chaewon stared at you in distaste, knowing that you were correct in many ways. "God I seriously can't stand this."

It may have sounded too sudden, but once her ex put her focus on the both of you once again, thinking she might have been slick. You smirked and took the opportunity to pull Chaewon closer to you. Chaewon's ex gritted her teeth in annoyance, finding you to be annoying despite not knowing you that well.

"Look at that," you proudly whispered. "She's jealous."

It took a few seconds to realize that Chaewon was still too close to you. You pulled her away to see if she felt uncomfortable, seems like it was the other way.

"Gross. Are you blushing?" Chaewon smacked you on the shoulders for your attempt in teasing her, cursing you. Something about you being annoying and talkative.

Not denying nor saying yes to your sarcastic question, Chaewon looked over at her ex. Doing a double take in case her ex looked invested in what the two of you were doing. You weren't sober but sober enough to see that she was trying to look for any signs. "Double take on your ex, seriously? at this point, look at her for a whole minute." A bitter smile appeared on her face, feeling unbothered until you commented. "No shame in anything. I say she deserves to have whatever comes at her for cheating on me."

Laughing, your throat a little too dry from the unhelpful liquid that you consumed earlier. You couldn't help but find the thought of Chaewon getting cheated on a bit too funny and questionable. Fumbled, really.

"What? Something funny?" She looked offended, balling her fist due to the annoyance that filled up.

You shook your head, feeling quite honest. "Nothing, just amusing that she'd ever think of cheating on you, really."

Chaewon jerked her head, looking elsewhere but you. You couldn't but but notice that this was by far the most normal conversation the two of you could have ever had without the need to choke one another. Cursing? She's getting there.

"I find it insulting how you can state such thing when all you do is annoy me." You shook your head, wanting to prove her wrong. "Yeah, but I never said anything about hating the process of dating you, did I?"

That question had a good amount of effect on Chaewon, making her wonder if it was the alcohol talking or not. She put her hands in her own pockets, forgetting that the two of you were literally in a party filled with sweaty, drunk, and lovesick people all around you.

"She's gone." You stated, about to leave when Chaewon stopped you.

"Wait," She bit the inside of her mouth, feeling embarrassed for feeling this way. "I haven't repaid you yet idiot."

You wanted to tell her, but it was too risky. She didn't know how much of a chokehold she had on you, and you liked to simply put it that way. Chaewon's gaze stayed on you, trying to see if you had been thinking or spacing out like you'd normally do. About to say something, a cold liquid got on your white top. You cursed to yourself, annoyed by whoever made such a horrible mistake only to find Chaewon's ex looking at you with a cocky smirk.

"What the fuck is your problem?" You were in disbelief, the alcohol sticking onto your clothing.

The glint of mischief in her eyes made you wanna punch the 21 iq out of her, but since it seemed like a huge scene, everyone had been staring, waiting for your next move. Luckily, Chaewon took notice of this when she saw your balled up fist, taking your hand and rushing the two of you out of the building. Still angry from the previous 'accident', you ran your hands through your hair and scoffed. "Your ex is a fucking asshole."

"Tell me something I don't know," Chaewon rolled her eyes, trying to be slick by checking you out in the corner of her eyes. "But luckily I brought extra clothing."

You raised your eyebrows in amusement. "Extra clothing? seriously?"

"What? You don't know the icky people that could either puke or.. spill their alcohol on you." Her serious tone turning into a teasing one at the end of her sentence.

You laughed, finding her humor and jokes a bit too funny for your own liking. In just one night, the two of you were already hitting it off well. Chaewon took out her purse(that she had been carrying this whole time) and brought out a white t-shirt. "Here, not sure if this'll fit since your frame seems to be a little bigger than mine," you nodded, taking it anyway. "This is my thank you for taking the alcohol from my shitty ex." Scoffing at her horrible attempted joke, Chaewon smiled in a slick and subtle way.

Since there was no one and the walls were covering most of the spot, you took your top off, making Chaewon panic before she could close her eyes and turn away. Replacing the old clothing with the white t-shirt, you thanked the fact that you still managed to look good.

"Thank you." You mumbled, feeling embarrassed to even say it loud and clear.

Chaewon nodded, acting as if it wasn't a big deal. "So, what about me repaying you for helping me?"

"Can I take you out sometime?" You got straight to the point, this time being unable to blame it on the alcohol because you were fully sober.

"Do you want me to go home and laugh at how much of a silly idea that is?" Chaewon laughed, annoyance not evident in her tone this time. "Shouldn't it be me taking you out since I'm the one repaying you?"

You slowly nodded, cheeks pink tinted. Entering the building to join your friend as Chaewon followed behind, you turned to see what other thing she wanted. "Why are you following me.." Chaewon raised her brows. "My friend is actually there." "Don't lie, what friend?" "Don't make me take back what I said."

Before you could retaliate, a drunk Yunjin wrapped her arms around you and mumbled words that were nearly deafening. "Y/N.. where were you? I wanna go home."

"This drunk asshole.." Chaewon scratched her head in annoyance, pulling Yunjin off of you and into her very own arms. "I'll help her into the car."

You blankly stared at her, a little scared as to why she knew you both came by car. "I'm not insane. Everyone would have noticed such old jeep don't look at me like that."

Accepting her insult along with the truth, you helped her with supporting Yunjin to the car. Although the two of you struggled, Chaewon got tired and threw the younger latter, clearly not caring about whether she'd break a bone or two. "Wow, just romantic, yeah. Throw my friend into her own jeep."

"She's drunk, passed out even. I'm sure she won't notice."

"Okay, fair."

"Mhm anyway, 6 pm. I mean, don't be late, I'll send you the details since I snuck my phone number into your pocket."

You stared in confusion before the realization could hit you, snapping your fingers together, Chaewon couldn't help but mentally judge you.

"What about you?" You got into the driver's seat, looking outside of the car window in order to talk more better to Chaewon.

Chaewon titled her head and pointed at herself. "What about me?"

Too embarrassed to even ask, you made sure to pinch yourself in order to gather the needed courage. "I could give you a lift home."

"Thanks, but," Chaewon softly smiled and pointed at the building that the two of you used to be in. "I wasn't lying when I said I had a friend who also needs my help to drive home safely."

"Then why'd you help me? go help your friend holy." You basically scolded, sending chills down her spine from the sudden change of attitude.

Before she could leave so you wouldn't complain further, she looked back at you. "Oh, and Y/N?"

You looked back, loving the way the moon complimented her features. It looked as though you were spotting an angel. Giving her time to think about her reply, Chaewon opened her mouth once again to finish her sentence. "I had a reason of helping you get here, and it wasn't because of Yunjin," you stayed quiet, knowing exactly what she meant. "I'll go now. Have fun driving that idiot home. Bye, loser."

#chaewon #kim chaewon #chaewon x reader #kim chaewon x reader #chaewon x fem reader #chaewon x f!reader #one shot #gxg #fluff #idol x reader #idol x fem reader #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim x fem reader #gg x reader #gg x fem reader

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