#//was this for him? was this for me? idk. i like to think it was him tho bc i missed quite a few of my favorites but i dont think liam woul

[leclerc-hs]

a lifetime of summers - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which every summer, at the villa your families rent together every year, gives you a version of charles OR you and charles are childhood best friends with a complicated history. warnings: angst, language, childhood friends with complicated history, smut, angst, yearning, etc... idk what I'm missing, NOT PROOFREAD (prob typos or things that might not make sense), lots of back and forth, messy messy messy, also cute, jealousy jealousy, seriously lots of YEARNING, them being stupid also word count: ~8k author's note: this idea came to me a few days ago and i've spent as much time as possible working on it since (in between carlos version). y'know when the creativity just hits right and the words pour out of you?? that was me with this. i hope you guys like it!!!! xoxo ◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Age 7.

“I’m gonna marry you one day.”

The villa smells of sun lotion and salty air.

Your dad’s playing music through some tiny old speaker he brought. And the adults are laughing too loud over their drinks.

The sun is beginning to sink, but it’s still hot. 

You’re sticky with juice, hair tangled, and bathing suit clinging awkwardly.

Charles is chasing you. A water balloon in his hands.

You shriek, running against the hot stones. Smiling so hard that it hurts.

“Y’already got me twice!” You shout in between giggles. “S’not fair!”

Charles appears closer. Face sunburnt. A smile tugged on his lips. “You cheated at Candy Land!”

“You cheated first!” 

“Because you always win!”

And he raises the balloon over his head.

“If you throw that, I’m telling maman you said a bad word the other day.”

His smile drops. “I did not!”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Uh huh…you said ‘shit’ when you hit your funny bone.”

“It hurt!” He argues.

You stick your tongue out. 

And then he hesitates. Looking at the balloon. Then at you.

Throws the balloon anyway.

It explodes against your stomach. Cold water soaking you.

And you gasp. 

Then lunge for him. Chase him all the way into the back yard, shrieking. Laughing so hard that you both struggle to breathe properly. 

And eventually you both collapse into the grass. Side by side. Near the lemon tree. 

There’s a few moments of silence. Both of you panting from trying to catch your breath. 

“I’m gonna marry you one day.”

You blink. “Why?”

“Because you’re funny. And you like ice pops. And you beat me at Mario Kart once.”

You look at him. And he’s staring at the leaves above your heads. Arms touching.

“I don’t think that’s how marriage works,” your voice soft.

“Don’t care.” He shrugs. 

You roll your eyes. “Okay. But I don’t want to wear a dress.”

“Fine. But you have to split the cake with me.”

“Only if it’s chocolate.”

“Well duh.”

And you both fall asleep like that. In the grass. Smelling like chlorine. Sticky with sugar.

-

Age 12

“Why are you being weird?”

The summer heat is burning.

Heat clings to you like a second skin. And you’re still dripping from the pool. The stone tiles are too hot to stand on for too long, so everyone moves around them quickly. Your hair is wet. Trying to read a book, but can’t focus.

Because Charles won’t stop staring at you.

Well, he’s technically not staring. But he’s in the pool in your direct eyesight. Hands behind his head as he sits on a float. Sunglasses almost too big for his face. Smirking.

And every so often, he splashes water your way.

“Would you stop?” You snap. Wiping the water off your ankles.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says. Blinking. Innocent.

You groan, falling back on the lounger. Trying to ignore him.

He floats closer. “You haven’t turned the page in almost twenty minutes.”

“That’s because you’re distracting me.”

And he grins. A full sheepish grin. “You think I’m cute.”

You don’t answer. Keep your eyes on your book.

“Y’gonna tell your friends I have a six pack now?” He calls out.

You raise your eyebrows, “Six pack of what?”

“Muscles.” He says. Dead serious.

And your mouth twitches. “Your voice still cracks.”

Charles slips off the floatie. Swims to the edge and rests his arms on the ledge. Chin on his forearm as he looks at you.

“Yeah? And what does it do to you when I say your name?”

Your breath hitches.

“You’re blushing.”

“It’s the sun.”

He laughs. And you throw your book at him. 

He ducks under the water. And when he resurfaces, grinning…you’re trying so hard to not smile. And he knows it.

“Why are you being so weird?” you ask.

He shrugs. 

“You’re just starting to notice me now.”

And you don’t answer.

And later that night, when you’re brushing your teeth. Still burnt from the sun. You wonder what he meant.

You don’t ask.

But you do start to.

-

Age 15

“That didn’t count.”

“So kiss me again.”

The villa is quiet. 

Your parents and his mom stay up talking. Your siblings long asleep. Arthur passed out on the couch. 

A few candles flicker near the steps, but most of the light is coming from the moonlight.

You’re barefoot. The grass cool and soft beneath your toes as you walk to the lemon tree. The one where you and Charles always meet when its too late and you’re supposed to be asleep.

He’s already there. Leaning against it. 

He looks different this year. Taller. A little bit sharper. More grown into his body.

He glances at you. “Took you long enough.”

“Had to sneak past my sister.”

He grins, holding up a bag of chips. 

And you sit beside him. Your shoulder brushing his. 

Talking about nothing for a while. Catching up on the weeks you aren’t together. How he kissed a girl in Monaco and it was fine but also kind of awkward. And you pretend you don’t hate hearing it.

You tell him about the boy from school who tried to hold your hand during a movie when you went with your group of friends.

Charles almost immediately demands his full name. And address.

And you laugh.

He tosses a lemon up and catches it. Again and again.

“I heard you tell Joris that I was in love with you.” You say.

And he glances at you. “I did not.”

You narrow your eyes. A smile on your lips.

And he shrugs. “I said you were obsessed with me. S’not the same.”

And you laugh. Then scoff. “You wish.”

You shove his arm. And he grabs your wrist before you can pull it back. Fingers wrapping around you. Warm. Familiar. But somehow different.

Neither of you speak for a few moments. Just take in the sound of the cicadas, the faint chatter of the adults on the terrace.

“Y’ever kissed anyone?”

And your stomach twists. Look away. “No.”

He nods. “Me either…at least, not really.”

Silence.

And then he says, “Wanna try?”

You look at him. But he’s already looking at you. And he looks nervous. Hopeful. Like he’s been thinking about this for a long time. Nothing like the boy who used to throw water balloons and stick paint in your hair.

You nod.

And it’s awkward. Your noses bump. One of you breathes too loudly. His hands tremble at your cheek. 

But it’s sweet. Slow.

And his lips are soft.

And when you pull apart, you both stare at each other. Lips a little rosier than before.

“That didn’t count.” You whisper.

And he blinks. “Why not?”

“There was no tongue.”

And he grins. Slowly.

And then pulls you back into him.

And this time….it’s real.

-

Age 17

“This doesn’t have to mean anything.”

The villa’s light glow behind you. Laughter echoing from the kitchen where your parents and his maman are finishing a bottle of wine.

You and Charles are on the terrace. Barefoot. A shared bottle of win between you. Practically empty. And his leg brushes against yours every time he fidgets.

It’s the first summer where you’ve both been allowed to really drink. Not just a stolen sip of a half-empty bottle found on the kitchen counter. Or a watered down spritz. Real drinks. Poured and given to you like adults.

And you’re a little tipsy. Cheeks warm and rosy. Limbs loose. 

“You’re quiet tonight,” you glance at him.

He nods. “Jus’ thinking.”

“You do that?”

And he laughs. “Shut up.”

You smile. Taking a small sip straight from the bottle before placing it back down. “What are you thinking about?”

He hesitates for a little. “Uh…that night last year.”

You don’t have to ask which night. You already know.

The night behind the lemon tree. His mouth on yours. And you think about it often.

“Me too,” You admit. Soft.

And he looks at you. Watch as his gaze dips to your mouth.

And then he’s leaning in.

The kiss is soft. Deeper. Not rushed. And his lips are warm. Tastes of wine and something sweet. Like the fruit you guys were picking at earlier.

When he pulls back, his voice cracks a little bit. “I want you.”

You don’t answer. Just smile soft. Pulling his hand into yours as you drag him into the villa. Into the bedroom. 

Your clothes peel off slowly. Clumsy. And he’s careful. Like he’s afraid if he moves too fast, it’ll ruin the moment. 

“Y’sure about this?” He whispers.

You nod. “Yeah…want it to be you.”

And he closes his eyes for a second. Like his heart is in his throat.

And then it happens.

It’s slow. Messy. You both laugh when your arms bump. And he curses softly when he cant get the condom wrapper open. But then he’s inside you, and your laughter becomes hushed gasps. Fingers digging into each other.

“Y’okay?” He mutters. His forehead pressed to yours.

And your nails dig into his back. “Yeah.”

And then he kisses you again. Harder. Holds you closer.

Later, when you’re both lying tangled in the dark…you feel his fingers tracing your skin. Both of you enjoying the silence.

Then a good few moments later.

“This doesn’t have to mean anything.”

You swallow hard.

“Yeah.”

-

Age 19

“Y’gonna dance with him again?”

“He asked.”

“You let him kiss your cheek.”

“You fingered me in the kitchen pantry last night.”

“That’s different.”

You’re barefoot in the sand. Music loud. And Luca…or maybe it was Leo? You weren’t sure. Had his hands lightly on your hips. Flirty.

You’re laughing at something dumb he said into your ear. And then you feel it.

The heat. The stare.

Glance over your shoulder and…

Charles. Leaning against the beach bar. Beer in hand.

Eyes on you with a glint in his eye like you’ve offended him.

You try not to react. But the next time Luca spins you, you pull away with a smile and a I’ll be right back.

You only make it a few steps before Charles intercepts your path.

“Having fun?” He says. Trying to be casual. But his voice is too tight. Too bitter.

“Yes.” You brush past him. And he falls right into step with you.

“You’ve got weird taste in music.”

“That’s not my music taste. It’s called dancing.”

And he scoffs.

You walk to the side of the bar. An more private are. Grabbing his shoulder to face you.

“Are you okay?” Voice sweet. Gentle. Caring.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re glaring too much.”

And looks at you. “I just think it’s funny.”

“Oh, here we go.”

“I mean, you don’t even like that song.”

You cross your arms against your chest. And he steps closer.

“You let him put his hands on you.”

You raise a brow. “So?”

“So…you let him touch you. Kiss your cheek”

And you laugh. Soft. “You fingered me in the kitchen pantry last night, Charles.”

His jaw clenches. Hands twitch. “That’s different.”

“Is it?”

You take a step closer. Testing him, And he doesn’t budge.

“It’s not the same.”

You stare at him. His cheeks are sunburned. And his eyes are so green it makes your heart rate spike. So handsome.

“So I’m not allowed to dance with a guy I’ll never see again?”

He runs a hand over his face. Grazing the slight stubble on his jaw. “You’re not just dancing.”

“No,” You admit. “But you’re not just fucking me either.”

His eyes widen. Slightly stunned.

And you don’t back down. Step even closer until your chests are touching.. “You don’t wanna talk about what this is? That’s fine. But you don’t get to act jealous then.”

“I’m not jealous.”

And you grin. Snort. Just a tiny bit.

“Okay,” he says. Throwing his hands up. “Maybe I am.”

Your stomach twists.

“I just…I don’t like seeing you with other guys.” His voice is low. 

“Well…it’s not like you don’t talk to other girls, Charles.”

And then you leave him standing there. Alone.

-

“Wanna go out for a bit?” He asks. “Just us?”

And you say yes without even thinking.

You’re on a light blue towel, sunglasses over your face, pretending to read a book. Charles is stretched out next to you. An arm tucked under his head. Throwing grapes in the air and trying to catch them in his mouth.

You glance over just as a grape hits his forehead and falls into the sand.

“Impressive.”

He laughs. “The wind interfered!”

He tosses another grape. Misses again. 

And you burst into laughter.

“I’m warming up.”

He laughs with you. Giving up and rolling onto his side to face you.

He squints his eyes at you. “Do you have sunscreen on?”

“Yes.”

“Are you positive?”

Your brows furrow. “Why?”

“I think that….” His hand reaches for the bottle of sun lotion, flicking it open. “That you missed a spot.”

He squirts some into his hand, a smirk on his lips.

“Back off.”

And he reaches for you, smearing it all over your chest. You shriek, tossing your book into the sand beside you.

And somewhere between this sun lotion assault, you’re both breathless and laughing so hard.

He pins you down, dropping heaps of sun lotion onto your skin.

“Truce,” You laugh. Stomach burning from laughter. 

He nods. Smiling. Rubbing the sunscreen into your skin.

“Don’t want you to burn.”

You throw a pile of sand at him. And he doesn’t even flinch.

-

His cock is already buried inside you. Deep. Thick. Fucking aching.

“God, you’re fuckin soaked.” He groans into your neck. Hand pressed into your stomach. 

You claw at his back. Back arched. Legs spread. Shaking every time he hits that spot in your tummy just right.

He looks down at you like he’s overwhelmed. Like he doesn’t understand how you can feel this fucking good.

“Swear to God,” He grunts. Pulling back slow, then snapping his hips forward. “S’like your pussy jus gets tighter every time.”

Your mouth falls open. Gasping.

His hands slip under your thigh, pushing your knee into your chest. Fucking you deeper.

And then he moans.

“Jesus….fuck.” He chokes out. “Y’feel that?”

You sob out. 

“I’ve been inside you like a hundred times this summer and it still feels like fuckin heaven.”

His forehead drops and presses into yours. Voice rough. 

“M’not gonna last.” He huffs. “You’re too wet. Too fuckin tight.”

You grip his shoulders, nails digging into the skin. “Don’t stop…”

“You’re fuckin milking me.” He cuts you off. “Y’gonna come? Please come on me. C’mon baby…please, yeah? Please let me have it.”

And you fall apart. Gasping. Shaking. Coming so hard around his cock it makes his head fall back.

And he swears. Filthily. French tumbling out go his mouth.

And then he’s spilling inside of you. Chest pressed to yours. Hips jerking.

He buries his face in your beck. Collapsing on you. 

And neither of you speak for a bit.

Just catch your breath. Comfortable silence. Holding each other.

Eventually, he reaches up. Tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

Then whispers into the dark.

“I like it here.”

And he doesn’t elaborate.

You don’t ask him to.

-

Age 21

“He seems tense.”

“He’s fine.”

“He didn’t even blink when I mentioned that guy from Madrid.”

“I told you not to bring it up.”

Your best friend’s been here for five days and already the villa feels different.

She means well. But she talks fast, drinks fast, and has no filter. 

She also loves to talk about your love life.

The one that you’re apparently “thriving in”.

“So wait,” she says over breakfast, digging her fork into her food. “You never texted that guy from Madrid back? Y’know the one with the sexy voice?”

Across the table, Charles is picking at his plate. Fork pausing. Just for a little bit. Enough for you to notice.

You look at her, “No.”

“Why not? He was so hot.”

“Didn’t feel like it.”

“But he was so into you…” She takes a sip of her drink. “What about the Italian one? The one you really liked.”

Charles cuts into his eggs. A little bit harder. Knife scraping the plate.

“He ghosted.”

“Ugh, yeah total loser.” She laughs. “Oh my god, remember…what was his name? From the bar crawl.”

“Liam.” You choke out.

“Yes! Liam!” She snaps her fingers. “Didn’t he pick you up at the bar? Like just threw you over his shoulder?”

You laugh, slightly embarrassed. Nodding.

Charles sets his mug down a little too hard.

And then he stands. Takes his plate to the sink. 

And walks out.

“Was it something I said?” Your best friend asks.

-

You find him in the kitchen later. Your best friend is lounging out by the pool and you slipped inside to grab a water.

He’s rinsing the plates. Back to you. But his jaw is clenched tight.

You lean against the counter by him. “Hey.”

He doesn’t look at you. Just keeps scrubbing the dishes. A little harder than before.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” He says. “Just didn’t realize breakfast started with a running list of every guy you’ve fucked.”

You wince.

And he breathes deeply. Dropping the dish in the sink. “Sorry…that was, uh harsh.”

You give a tiny nod.

“I just…” He turns off the water. Looks at you. “Didn’t know it was like that?”

“Like what?”

He shrugs. 

“Is it a problem?”

He stares at you. Sucks his bottom lip in for a moment. Like he’s deep in thought. Before finally saying…

“No. It’s not my place.”

And there it is. 

You step back. “Right.”

And then you’re turning around, reaching in the cabinet for a glass. “Still going to the bonfire later?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, if you still want to.”

“Cool,” Your voice is light. 

-

Age 22

“You’ve been quiet lately.”

“I’m just tired.”

The long table on the terrace is full.

Extra chairs from inside scattered around it, one of your younger cousins crawling underneath it.

Your dad is asking your mom if there’s more grilled vegetables. Meanwhile your sister insists on telling the story about the jellyfish sting again.

“And she was crying so hard, she had actual snot bubbles on her face,” She says. Laughing.

You lift your hand, “I was six!”

Charles laughs. “You thought you were dying.”

“I thought it was venom!” You laugh. “And no one even helped me.”

“We were too busy laughing at the snot,” He says. Looking at you. That familiar grin pulled on his face, eyes crinkled. Like it was just you two.

And then Alex leans into him. Whispers into his ear. And whatever she says makes him smile wider. Makes him shift toward her without even thinking.

You chug your wine.

“I love that photo,” Alex says softly. And you glance at her to find her already looking at you. “The one of you and everyone in the inflatable pool. You’re the only one not smiling.”

You curl your lips. “We were sinking.”

“It’s so funny though,” She says. “You look so unimpressed by them.”

“She always looks like that,” Charles chimes in. “Probably came out of the womb judging people.”

You narrow your eyes, but the smile pulling on your lips gives you away.

Alex laughs. And your mom’s already popping open the next bottle of wine. 

And it would be perfect.

If it weren’t for Charles sitting across from you, arms wrapped around another person. Like he’s not yours anymore. 

You ask Alex about her job, and you mean it. She answers so soft and kind that it almost makes you hate her. Almost.

But you can’t. Because she’s nice.

“She’s good for him,” Your sister whispers under her breath, leaning toward you. “You’ve been quiet lately.”

You nod. “I’m just tired.”

Eventually, dinner ends. Alex excuses herself to help your mom bring out dessert. And Charles follows.

And when they come back, head thrown back laughing. 

He sets a slice of cake in front of you without a word.

And you thank him like its normal.

-

Someone suggest drinks at the beach bar. Something to do. The one with the bulbs on string down the street. 

You come barefoot, some sweet drink already in hand. Alex walks beside you, her wedges hooked in her fingers, hem of her dress brushing her knees.

She’s pretty in a way that doesn’t feel threatening. Not showy. Just perfect.

Inside the bar, you spot Charles leaned against the bar with a beer, grinning at something Arthur’s saying. And he’s wearing that linen button up that you used to tell him he looks like a recently divorced rich guy in. 

You find yourself smiling.

Alex touches your arm. “Hey…you want a new drink?”

You shake your head. “I’m good for now.”

She nods. A small smile on her lips.

“I was really nervous to meet you.”

You blink. Eyes slightly wider. “Me?”

She nods. “Charles talks about you all the time.”

You freeze for a moment.

“Yeah,” she smiles. “Not like in a weird way. Just like you’re part of the picture. In his life. Almost every story he tells involves you.”

You don’t know how to respond.

“I’m just glad you’re not..uh, like intimidating.” She laughs.

And you laugh back. “I save the intimidation after a few weeks.”

She smiles. “So I’ve still got time?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

And for this moment, you like her. Even if it hurts.

Because she’s kind.

Because she doesn’t know that you and Charles shared a bed when thunderstorms were scary.

Because she wasn’t there the summer he kissed you against the sand and told you he’d never want anyone else.

You chug your drink.

Later, you’re all gathered near the back of the deck, huddled around a wooden table and wobbly stools. Someone ordered a side of fries. Someone else ordered a round of shots no one really wanted but drank anyways.

You’re pressed between Charles and your sister. You’re laughing. Tipsy. Warm.

Charles is teasing your sister about something but you’re not really listening. 

And that’s when another guy slides in.

Not dramatically. Just casual. Confident.

He’s tall. Tanned. Cute. 

He talks to the guy beside him, someone you’ve definitely seen before, and then turns to you. 

“Did I hear something about you getting stung by a jellyfish?”

You smile. “Unfortunately.”

He nods. A grin. “Survival stories always get me.”

“Tragic,” you say.

He laughs. “I’m Nick.”

You take a sip of your drink, tilting your head. “Do you open with tragedy stories for flirting a lot? Or is it just me?”

“Only for girls who look like they bite back.”

You grin. Slow. “You say that like its a challenge.”

“Depends,” He shrugs, gaze dropping to your bare legs, then back to your face.

“On?”

“Depends how hard you bite.”

And you laugh. Like really laugh. Hard. Head falling back. And then you feel it. The way Charles stills beside you. The way his fingers grip his cup just a little bit tighter.

And Nick leans in closer. More private. “So…what other tragedies should I know about you?”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“If you want facts or warnings.”

He raises a brow. “Any preference?”

You place your cup down on the table. “I like a little risk.”

And Charles says something to your sister now. A little louder. Like he’s trying to distract you.

You don’t bother to look at him.

Nick grins. “And just how dangerous are you exactly?”

You grin back. “Pretty dangerous.”

He laughs. “Good.”

You both just stare at each other for a little. Grinning.

“You dancing?” He asks, nodding his head in direction of the dance floor.

“Are you asking or telling?”

“I’m hoping.”

You slide off the stool.

“Let’s go tragedy boy.”

And as he takes your hand. Leads you into the crowd. You catch Charles’s eyes.

Watching.

Burning.

-

The music’s slowed a little. Just swaying to the music, instead of the rapid jumping you were doing earlier. 

Nick’s hand rests at your hip. His other is holding your drink while you talk with your hands.

“You can’t seriously think pineapple belongs on pizza,” You yell over the music.

Nick grins. “It’s good.”

“You’re weird.”

“I’ve been told that before.”

And you laugh, bumping your shoulder into his. He leans in, speaking into your ear.

“You know your friend’s been staring at us for like ten minutes, right?”

You blink. “Huh?”

He tips his head. Over your shoulder. And you turn just a little bit. Just enough to see Charles still sitting at the table.

Drink in hand. Not talking. Not even blinking. Just looking.

You breathe out, turning back. “That Charles.”

Nick raises a brow, nodding. “Ahh.”

“Don’t read into it.”

He watches you.

“He has a girlfriend.”

Nick hums, a teasing grin. “He doesn’t look like he remembers that right now.”

“We’re just friends.”

“Cool.”

You shrug. “You don’t believe me?”

He smiles. “Doesn’t matter what I believe. Just means if I kiss you, he might kill me.”

You laugh. “You’re awful.”

“You’re still here.”

And you look at each other. Smiling.

You kiss him. Not because you’re falling for him. But because you’re single. Because Charles brought someone else. Because he gets to have her. Because you’re tired of thinking about him.

So you kiss him to feel good. To forget. To remind yourself that you’re free.

Hands in his shirt. Hands on your waist.

And you let yourself lean into it.

Enjoy the uncomplicated.

And for a few moments…it almost works.

-

Age 23

“You brought him here.”

“Yeah. Remember you said he wouldn’t last.”

You’re late this year.

Flight was delayed. Rental car place was too busy. And by the time your feet hit the familiar stone of the villa’s terrace, the sun is already low in the sky.

Theo’s beside you. Rolling your suitcase like a pure gentleman. He’s good. Kind. Gets along with your parents. Laughs at your sister’s jokes. 

And still, your heart flutters when you hear his voice.

Charles.

Laughing louder than necessary. As if he wants you to hear it.

You follow the sound. Trying not to think about the last time you saw him. A few months ago in Monaco. A hotel room you both swore you wouldn’t end up in. Both seeing other people. Both pretending it didn’t count.

And it wasn’t even the first time.

Since last summer, it’s happened a few times too many. Whenever him and Alex called it off. On and off. On and off. You slipped between the cracks. A quiet fuck in your apartment. A drunken make out at a birthday party. You pressed against the shower tiles. Bent over his kitchen counter.

Always followed by soft smiles and easy goodbyes. A promise to act normal. 

Best friends first.

And the moment you step further into the terrace, you see him.

Charles standing against the bar, shirt unbuttoned. Tanned. Holding a drink with the confidence of someone who knows exactly how hot he looks.

And worse…Alex is next to him.

Beautiful of course. Sundress swaying. Hand on his chest like it belongs there.

He notices you before you can even speak. Smile faltering for a fraction of a second. Just enough for you to really feel it. And then it’s back.

And he lifts his glass in a salute. “You’re late.”

Alex smiles. “We thought you weren’t coming til’ tomorrow!”

You smile back. She was always so nice. “Surprise!”

Theo steps forward. Hand extended with that charm that always made it hard to hate him. “Hey…Charles, right?”

And Charles doesn’t hesitate. Shakes his hand. But its the same one he uses with driver’s he never liked. “Yeah. We’ve met.”

And it hits you like a knife to the ribs.

You remember that night clear as day. Theo was still new. Only a few dates in. And you invited him to a party. 

Charles showed up late. And barely looked at Theo. Offered him a lazy smile before finding you later into the night. Pulling you into his car thirty minutes later and fucking you in the back seat.

And Theo’s smiling. “Nice to see you again.”

Charles smiles. But his eyes stay on you. Never leave your face.

Alex swings her arm into his. “So glad you made it. Saved you the good room too.”

You smile at her. “That’s sweet of you.”

Charles lifts a brow. “Didn’t know you needed a good room to enjoy yourself here.”

And you hum. “Guess I’ve gotten a little pickier.”

He takes a sip of his drink. “Since when?”

And you shrug your shoulders. “Since I started dating someone who doesn’t forget my birthday.”

And it hits him like a bullet. You see the way his jaw shifts. Swallow.

Theo’s hand slips onto your lower back. Whispering softly into your ear. Nothing specific. Just something that makes you smile.

And Charles swear’s he might just vomit.

-

The ocean is calm. Waves hitting the rocks. A few birds chirping. Air cool before the sun is fully up.

You slip out of bed, letting Theo sleep. Making your way down the stony path that you walked hundreds of times. Towel slung over your shoulder. Hair twisted up in a clip.

And you’re halfway across the sand when you see him.

Already waist deep in the water. Back facing you. 

You freeze. Debating if you should turn around. 

But it’s too late. He see’s you. And his face shifts into something. Longing? Guilt? You’re not sure.

“You’re always here early,” He calls out.

You drop your towel, walking into the water without glancing at him.  “Not always.”

He watches you. You can feel the burn of his eyes on your skin. “You do when you’re avoiding me.”

You glance up. The water cool against your skin. “Who said I’m avoiding you?”

He shrugs. “History.”

You reach him in the water. You both stand there, not touching. Not moving.

Eventually…he speaks.

“He’s staying the entire time?”

You raise a brow. “Are you asking as my best friend or something else?”

He doesn’t answer. 

You move a little closer. “You said he wouldn’t last.”

“I was wrong.” His voice is low. “Clearly.”

He swallows. Looks away from you. “Does he know?”

And your stomach twists. “Know what?”

He doesn’t say anything. Lets the silence tell you.

You feel your throat tightening. “He know’s we’re close.”

“Close.” He repeats. Half snort, half laugh.

“Best friends.”

He turns to fully face you now. Jaw clenched. 

“Right. Just best friends.”

You don’t respond. Because what else are you supposed to say? That you still feel his fingers dig into your skin. That no matter how many nights pass, you still wonder what this could’ve been if you both spoke up all those years ago.

He steps closer. Too close now.

“Y’still taste like that shitty rosé we used to drink.”

And you blink. Trying not to smile. “You’re not funny.”

“Not trying to be.”

His fingers brush against your shoulder. 

“You have a girlfriend.”

And his eyes look sad. He breathes loudly. “And you have him.”

-

The villa is loud tonight. Music is blasting. Too many drinks are being poured. Bowls of snacks turning stale.

All of you are packed into the living room. Sunburn. Sprawled into chairs or the floor. Hoodies thrown on. 

Your families are here. Everyone laughing and shouting. Bickering. Like its still 15 years ago.

Theo sits behind you on the rug, legs wrapped around you. Hand resting on your hip. And he’s been sweet all evening. He fits.

Yet every time you crack a joke. Or win a game. It’s Charles who looks at you first. Like he’s your person.

His leg bounces restlessly. 

“Alright,” Arthur announces. “We’re playing that game again. The one with the acting.” He holds up a deck of cards.

“Y’mean charades?” Alex asks. Soft.

“No.” Charles says. “The one I always win.”

And it’s you rolling your eyes now. “Y’mean the one you always cheat during?”

He leans forward. “I win.”

Theo laughs behind you.

Your sister tries to act out like Snow White. Falling over and laughing when Arthur misreads a motion. Theo keeps guessing too many times. And Alex’s impressions are almost too good.

And later…when the game’s over. You find yourself in the kitchen, stacking freshly cleaned glass and bowls onto the drying towel.

Humming to yourself.

And Charles leans against the doorway, arms crossed. Watching you with a lazy grin. 

“You two are cute,” He says.

You roll your eyes. “Don’t be weird.”

“M’not.” He shrugs. Pushing off the archway and stepping closer. “It’s just…uh.” He scratches the back of his neck. “You let him touch you a lot.”

You pause with a glass in your hand. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

And he smiles. Tight. Not genuine. “Nothing.”

“You’re being weird.”

He raises his hands. Says something mocking of Theo.

And it has you gasp lightly. “You’re such an asshole.” You try not to smile.

He steps even closer.

“Yeah.” He whispers. “But I’m still your favorite.”

And then he’s stepping beside you, taking the glass from your hand and dries it.

Finishes washing the dishes with you in silence.

-

“You’re staring again.”

“Yeah. Looks like you’re having fun.”

“Jealous?”

“Of him? Never.”

Silence.

“But of you? Maybe.”

The bar is tucked into the cliffs. A grand view of the sea. Well lit by bulbs on strings.

Everyone’s dressed for the night. Sun-kissed. Hair soft and flows. Laughter echoing. 

You’re on your second drink. Lightly buzzed. Your dress clinging to you just right. And you feel good. Happy.

Theo’s spinning you around. His hands warm on your waist as you move slowly in the corner of the makeshift dance floor. He’s not much of a dancer. But he’s trying. And in the end…that’s all that really matters.

He leans in close. “Y’look so beautiful.”

You smile. “Yeah?”

“I mean…y’always do.” He grins. “But-“

You don’t let him finish. Kiss him. Easy. Soft.

And when you pull back, you catch him in the corner of your eye.

Charles. At the bar.

Sitting with Arthur and Alex. Drink in front of him. Head tilted.

And he’s watching you. Not listening to either of them.

And when you’re eyes meet, he lifts his drink.

A challenge.

And later when you slip away from the loud music. He’s there. Leaning casually against the table. Shirt undone just enough to make your throat dry. 

“You’re having fun.” He says. A statement. Not a question.

“Isn’t that the point?”

He nods. “Theo’s a big fan of spinning you around like you’re some prize.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s called dancing.”

“More like claiming.” He huffs under his breath.

And you look at him.

Hard. 

Trying to read him. 

“What’s your problem?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Eyes dropping to the floor. Then to his half empty drink. 

“You kissed him.” He still isn’t looking at you.

You squint your eyes a little. “Yeah. I did.”

He swallows. Harsh. “Cool.”

You laugh. Dry. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m the ridiculous one?” He finally looks at you. “You’re out here making heart eyes at a guy you know won’t last more than another year.”

Your mouth falls open. “You don’t even know him.”

“I don’t need to know him. I know you.”

And he steps forward. Voice dropping.

“And I know that’s the same dress you wore the night I…”

“Charles.”

You both go quiet. 

Alex’s frame flickers by. Laughter erupts. People keep dancing.

“Whatever. You’re right. Have fun with your fling.”

You narrow your eyes. “Jealous?”

He smiles. Sad. “Of him? Never.”

A moment of silence. And his gaze drops to your mouth. Stays there.

“But you? Maybe.”

-

The trip is winding down. Bags are beginning to be packed. Towels still damp. Nights slower. Everyone pretending that they’re not ready to be home.

The sky’s dark. Everyone’s inside finishing up packing. Winding down.

You slipped out.

Without thinking, ended up here. The lemon tree.

The same as always. 

You hear footsteps. Uneven. Dragging.

And you turn. Charles.

He’s drunk. Swearing under his breath as he loses his footing. A bottle dangling from his hand. Shirtless. Barefoot.

His eyes meet yours and there’s something bitter in them. “Of course you’re here.”

You breathe. “You’re drunk.”

“A lil’ bit,” His words slur. “Celebrating your last night as someone else’s girl.”

You cross your arms. “We’re not doing this.”

But he’s already walking closer. 

“Y’know….s’kinda funny.”

You don’t speak.

“How he holds your hand like its somethin’ delicate. Like you’re some untouchable thing.” He takes another step closer. Voice shaking.

“I’ve had you on your knees on the kitchen floor.” He says, bitter.

Your heart pounds. “Stop.”

“In the pool too,” He slurs. “Begged me to not pull out. Said you wanted to feel it. Feel me.”

He doesn’t even let you speak. Just rambles on. Slurring. Drunk. Angry.

“Had you in every room in that house,” He grunts. “Fingers shoved in you while our parents set the dinner table. Bent you over the bathroom sink. Panties still halfway up your thighs because you were too desperate to wait.”

“Charles…”

“The pantry…remember that one?” His voice drops lower. “You were so wet it dripped onto the floor. Had to stuff my fingers in your mouth so no one would hear you cryin while you came.”

“Don’t do this.”

“I fucking have to.” He snaps. “Because I can’t fucking sleep this entire trip knowing he gets to touch you.”

You swallow. “I’m not some prize.”

“No. You’re worse.” He spits. Stepping close enough that his chest is close enough and you have to crane your neck to look at him. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and you handed it to someone else like I never fucking existed.”

“Stop it.”

“He doesn’t know what its like to hear you lose control. How you cry when you come. Shaking and begging.”

And your breathing hard now.

He leans in. Bending down to be eye to eye.

“He gets to hold you in public.” His eyes are glaring. “And I got your thighs shaking around my face while you said my name like a fuckin’ prayer.”

You don’t speak. Can’t.

Silence for a few moments.

And then…

“Tell me.” He slurs, small grin tugged on the corner of his lips. “Tell me which of us you think about when you touch yourself.”

You slap him.

Hard.

And his face whips to the side. He breathes heavily. Like he’s trying not to cry. Or scream. Or grab your face and kiss you.

He swallows.

“He gets you in the daylight.”

You don’t speak.

“He gets the sunlight.” 

And you whisper back. Soft. Heart breaking. “You only met me in the dark.”

You walk away barefoot. Tears forming in your eyes.

And Charles?

He stays at the lemon tree until sunrise. Alone.

-

You don’t talk for three months.

Which is considered a lifetime for you and Charles.

And then on a random weekday at nearly three in the morning, he sends a photo of the lemon tree in the winter.

No message beneath it.

You don’t answer.

Not for a day. Not even for three.

But then, on a random day the following week, you send a photo back.

A shot of your bedroom wall. A blurry photo of your hand holding a book in the corner.

Can’t sleep.

And the three dots appear before you can overthink it.

Me either.

And that’s how it begins.

You don’t FaceTime each other. At least, not at first. 

You fall back into a rhythm neither of you thought would come back. Almost normal. The funny kind of banter you guys always had.

Charles broke up with Alex. You broke it off with Theo.

Neither of you really said why.

-

Age 25

“Don’t sit in my chair.”

“This isn’t your chair?”

“I licked it.”

“You haven’t changed.”

“You haven’t either.”

The sun is long gone. You’re curled up in one of the cushioned chairs on the front patio. A half finished glass of wine on the stone table beside you.

The front door swings open.

“Don’t sit in my chair”

He doesn’t even hesitate. Charles drops into the cushion next to you. Barefoot. Hoodie swallowing him.

“This isn’t your chair?”

“I licked it.”

He makes a funny face. “You haven’t changed.”

And you smile. “You haven’t either.”

And its easy. The way he stretches out, folding his arms behind his head. Like nothing ever happened. 

You sip your wine.

His knee bumps into yours. Gaze on you.

“Thought it’d feel weird.”

“It did…for like,” You pause. Whisper. “For like a day.”

He holds your gaze. Doesnt look away. Smiles.

You break the tension first. “Maman said you still haven’t unpacked.”

He shrugs. “I’ll get there.”

“It’s been almost a whole week. That’s psychotic.”

“You’re just mad I haven’t asked to borrow your good smelling shampoo yet.”

“You are so not borrowing that.”

“I already did.”

You elbow him in the side. Laughing. Body shaking. He laughs with you. Head falling back.

He clears his throat. “I missed this.”

And you bump your knee back into his. “Rematch tomorrow?”

“Candy Land?”

“Don’t cheat.”

“I didn’t cheat.”

You narrow your eyes, smiling so hard. “You’re the worst.”

-

Monaco, Age 26

Your back hits the wall of his apartment. 

Urgent. Focused. 

Like he’s waited for forever to get you alone again. And doesn’t want to waste a single second of it.

His mouth is hot on yours. Hands at your hips. Your thighs. Slipped under your dress. And you’re clinging onto him like he’s a lifeline.

You can still taste the champagne on his skin. Skin warm from the race. But his mouth is desperate against you. 

He groans against your lips. “Thought about this almost every night.”

You gasp when his fingers curl around your thigh. “Stop thinking.”

And he’s about to take you right there. Dress bunched at your waist. Pants halfway down. But then you press your hand to his chest.

He stills. Panting. Flushed.

“I need to say something first,” You breathe.

He waits. Hands still gripping you.

And you look up at him. The man who just won Monaco. The boy you’ve known who’s been chasing that dream since you can remember. The one you loved. Hated. Missed.

“Your dad would be so proud of you.” You whisper.

And you feel his chest rise. Jaw clench. Fingers curl harder into your skin.

“I’m serious.” Your voice is soft. “Not just because you won. But because of how you’ve carried him with you.”

And his eyes are glassy.

He swallows hard. “I heard him.” His voice soft. “Right after I saw that checkered flag.”

You bring your hand to his check, pressing your palm. And he leans into you.

And then he’s kissing you again. But its different.

Still hungry. But more grateful. More claiming.

He whispers I love you into your mouth. Again and again. 

He whispers it when you tug his shirt over his head. When you lift your hips to pull your panties off.

Whispers it into your skin when he touches your bare skin. Like he’s seeing it all for the first time again.

And when he sinks in, he groans. Leaning over you, gripping you like you might just slip through his fingers.

“Y’feel like fuckin heaven.” He mutters against your lips. “You are heaven.”

And then he starts moving. Not fast.

Slow. Deep.

“Squeezing me like you missed it,” He huffs. “Did you, hm? Did you miss me?”

“Yes…” You pant. “Fuck…yes.”

He kisses your throat. Hot open mouthed kisses at the corner of your jaw. Hips rolling into you. Each thrust making you cry out.

“I love you.” 

He thrusts.

“I love you.”

Another.

“Not just tonight. Not just now. Always.” He cries out.

And you clench around him. Yelling out as your orgasm builds too fast.

“C’mon that’s it..” He breathes. “Come for me. Let me feel it, yeah? Let me have it…please baby.”

“I love you,” You gasp. “I love you…I love you..”

And then you’re coming. Body shaking, mouth falling slack as he fucks you through it.

Following seconds later, spilling into you.

He collapses over you. “Fuck. You’re it for me.”

You hold him close.

-

“You still take it with milk?” He asks, voice soft. 

You nod.

He hands you a mug. His fingers brushing against yours.

You sit on the couch together. Close.

“I keep thinking about the lemon tree,” You say. Cradling the mug in your hands.

He looks at you. “Yeah?”

You nod. “How many summers we sat there pretending everything was normal.”

He huffs a soft laugh. “We were idiots.”

You smile. “Still are.”

“I’ve loved you since we were kids.” He says quietly. “Since you made me sleep outside by the lemon tree because you said it wasn’t fair that only the birds got to live outside.”

You laugh, heart clenching.

“I’ve loved every version of you.” He continues. “The snot version. The barefoot version. The one who laughs too loud after a few drinks. The one who tried to date other people. The one who…the one who kissed other people in front of me because I waited too fucking long.”

You pause. Placing the mug down on the side table.

“I was scared that loving you would ruin everything.”

He pushes you hair behind your ear. 

“I love you too.” You whisper. “You idiot.”

He laughs.

Leans in.

Kisses you.

-

Age 28

“This is where I almost lost you.”

“And now it’s where you’re asking to keep me?”

“No. Not asking.”

“Oh.”

Its late. 

You’ve changed into one of Charles’s old shirts. Barefoot. As usual. 

He finds you standing at the edge of the yard. 

Where the broken stone path curves. Where the grass bends. Where the lemon tree leans.

You hear him before you see him. His footsteps always so loud.

Neither of you speak. He wraps his arms over your shoulders from behind. Your back to his chest as he nudges his head into the space between your shoulder and neck.

You hold his arms. Swaying to the light breeze. Staring at the lemon tree together.

“This is where I almost lost you.” He says.

And you glance at your side to him. 

“And now it’s where you’re gonna ask to keep me?” You say, laughing. Teasing. Soft.

He smiles. Small. Shaky.

“No.” He says. Unwrapping his arms from you. “Not asking.”

And then you’re turning towards him. 

And he drops to one knee.

Just like that.

Just him in the grass. Kneeling by the lemon tree. Choosing it to be the place where he does the most important thing he’ll ever do.

Your breath catches. And his hands tremble as he pulls a ring from his pocket.

“I wanted to do this right.” He says. “I want to choose you the way I should’ve all those years ago. Not just when it’s easy..or when we’re alone. But in front of every version of us we used to be.”

Your throat burns.

“I want every summer.” He whispers. Eyes glued to you. “Every winter. Every fight. Every make up. I want to kiss you goodnight when we’re tired. Want to raise mini versions of us.”

You laugh. You cry. And you’re nodding before he even finishes.

“I want you forever.”

And then finally, “Will you marry me?”

You fall to your knees right there in the grass. In front of the lemon tree. And kiss him hard enough that you both fall into it. Laughing. Like little kids again.

“Yes.” You whisper against his lips. “Always. In every lifetime…yes.”

taglist: @softtdaisy @zicosbitch @esmeextraa @evie-119 @teamnovalak @leclercmylove @skylyn-vais @tabisswag @annaswrites00 @chaconadine @sassy-persona @im-an-overthinker @ptrickbateman @angelique-rose-valentine @agmoon03 @whistlef0rthechoir @bvbyacid-666 @jenxjar @crazynyctophilia @theoriginalsfan124 xoxo love u all :)

[spatiotemporal]

woe spring allergies be upon ye

[phinjeet]

* the extent 2 which i cannot stop thinking abt them 2day izgoing 2 fucking kill me

[bluukive]

From the Back

summary - uh-oh! Your fiendish boyfriend caught you staring at his fingers again. Luckily for you, he knows what you want.

wc - 2.1k words

content - Toji x reader, p slapping, fingering, clit play, dumbification kinda? idk, he's mean, it's all consensual pinky promise

an - uh so I procrastinated this cus im ill and nothings proofread or makes sense to me !! I also dislike fingering so wtf do I know lol lmk what needs changing thx gng

Toji doesn’t know where he got the ring that he’s spinning idly between his fingers. It’s a cheap thing, and he’s got no clue why he's kept it around. Regardless, Toji keeps twirling the ring around, thick fingers dipping in and out of it periodically as he lays on one end of the couch. 

It kills you. You’ve never wanted to swap places with a piece of jewellery so desperately in your life before. One of your knees bounced almost anxiously as you watched him from the other end of the couch, eyes trained on his fingers. As for getting wet, you were beyond that point. You’ve been aching for him ever since you first saw him removing the ring off his finger.

His fingers were thick and tanned, joints prominent from years of doing damage. There were rough scars everywhere, the careless sort you loved to pepper kisses all over when you held his hand in yours. You’ve felt those hands pry your thighs apart so that he could get a taste of what lay in between. You’ve seen those same hands bruised and battered, fingers twitching and flexing after a rough night out. 

But right now? They were relaxed. The ring was nestled between two of your boyfriend's fingers before he tossed it and caught it in his weighty palm. You weren’t even ashamed at how blatantly you were ogling at the veins that rose from below his skin. 

Toji doesn’t notice it straight away, the heated, yearning glances coming from you. He just hums low, almost like he’s thinking about something. A thick thumb rubs over the edge of his ring with a precision that’s languid, whilst his other hand rests on his thigh. He rubs at the bulky limb, fingers splayed out, and you flinch. 

Without warning, Toji’s eyes meet yours. They’re lazy but incredibly knowing. He knows what you want, but he wants to hear it from your own mouth first.

“Gonna keep eye-fuckin’ my hand? You’ve been quiet for a good while now,” he says casually, as if he hasn’t got the sleaziest smirk appearing on his scarred lip. You know damn well he’s pretending to have known you were staring at him the entire time, but you couldn’t focus on that. You can’t. 

Toji’s fingers are flexing again, all for show. The ring clinks against his prominent knuckles as his voice drops low. You watch as he slouches in his seat, thighs fallen open a little wider. It’s clearly an invitation for you to come closer.

So you do. 

۫ ꣑ৎ

You don’t even know how you got here. One second you were sassing back, getting all defensive as he called you out on your perverted behaviour. The next moment, you had both of his heavy thighs over yours, pulling them apart and locking them in place. It’s comical to Toji how you flinch at the sound of his voice so close to your ear, scar rubbing against the tender flesh of your lobe.

One nip, then another. His tongue flicks out as you shudder, ass nudging up against his crotch as you remain at your boyfriend's mercy. “You like my hands that much, hm? Shoulda said somethin”, he murmured, hot breath fanning against your temple. “You could have had them on your cunt much sooner than this if you spoke up.”

“And have you call me easy? No thanks,” a scoff leaves your lips as you writhe in Toji’s lap, but his legs have you immobilised. An awkward yelp escapes you when the man begins to massage at your inner thighs, the pudgy skin barely covered by your shorts. His thumb pinched and rolled the skin around before sliding beneath the fabric of what you were wearing. 

Toji clicks his tongue. “Nah, believe me. I’m flattered, doll. Gets me all hot and bothered when you’re whorin’ over me like this,” he murmurs as his hands feel up the warmth at the crease of your thighs. 

“Language-”

“Who gives a fuck about language when I’ve got your cunt in the palm of my hands. Literally,” Toji scoffs, one of his hands sliding out from under your shorts and cupping your pussy and giving it a confident squeeze. The warmth seeps into his skin and he groans appreciatively. His actions are met with a wanton little mewl, your body slouching against his.

“None of that. You wanted this, remember?” Toji lifts you up so that your back properly meets his strong front, his lips mouthing at the side of your neck eagerly. This action was met by a hitch in your breath as his middle and ring finger dragged up and down the seam of your shorts in a painfully teasing manner. Your hips buck upwards, chasing more of his touch, but his free hands lays flat against your pelvis and pushes you back down. 

The pressure you felt down below alternated, ranging from intense nudges with his knuckles, to the light scratches of his nails against the print of your pussy. “You’re squirming. Where's all that sass gone, huh? ‘S it all gone now that my hands are right where you want ‘em?”

Toji’s words are punctuated by another slow drag of his fingers, this time right past the leg opening of your shorts and between your folds. Your clit is prominent and pulsing, met with stroke after stroke with the increasingly soaked digits of your smug boyfriend. You’re twitching, fighting between closing your legs or keeping them spread real nice and wide. 

“F-fuck, Toji…!” You whine, face scrunching up as Toji’s fingers capture your clit between the joints of fingers. He tugs, and the sensation is borderline uncomfortable. You can’t bring yourself to tell him to stop being mean, too focused on the sparks of pleasure that have your hole clenching around nothing. It’s pathetic. 

“F-fuck, Toji!” he mocks, a cruel huff of laughter rumbling in his chest. You can feel his front almost vibrate behind you, but the erection prodding up against the curve of your ass is even more of a distraction. “No whining, brat. You’re getting what I give you when I think you deserve it.” 

The thick fingers leave you, making you choke on a breath out of sheer disappointment. “No, cmon. Toji, that’s not fair,” you practically hissed, a hand flying out to grab his arm. You tug and tug, just enough to have his knuckles grazing your inner thigh. You can feel the man you’re sitting on exhale gruffly, and the atmosphere shifts from one that’s less playful to one that’s more…charged. You didn’t dare look back at your lover, knowing you’ve put him in a mood. 

To put it bluntly, Toji’s had enough. 

“Oh, you’re so fuckin’ mouthy,” Toji tuts in mock disapproval, making quick work of moving his legs momentarily so that he could shuck your panties and shorts off. Without missing a beat, his thighs are over yours, cool air hitting the slickness between your legs. You were mortified.

“Hey now…”

Slap. 

“Hm? What was that?” 

Another wet slap. 

His entire palm rubs against your stinging mound as your lips fall open, breath hitching in your throat as you screw your eyes shut. This wasn’t the first time Toji had caught you off guard, but you loved it. He knew you loved it too, with the way your entire pussy seemed to throb even harder on his hand. 

“Oooh, you liked that,” he grins, attempting to soothe the sting by dipping his fingertips into your hole. Barely. He pulls back out, cock oozing precum when you shake your head side to side. “Awh, don’t be like that. Just sit there all nice ‘n pretty whilst I play with this nasty pussy.”

“No, you’re n-not even playing with me properly…,” you complain, and Toji doesn’t know how you have the nerve to. You should be grateful he even decided to entertain your little hand fetish in the first place. A faux sigh of impatience leaves him, and dread builds up in your gut. 

What if he leaves me here, you thought, all alone and needy with no fingers in your pussy. How would you cum then? 

But no. Toji decides to be merciful, which was a rare occurrence. 

“Alright, alright. Fine, I’ll play with you. But don’t start cryin’ later,” was all he said before easing his fingers into your pussy. There were two long fingers at first, delivering agonisingly slow strokes inside your cunt. He curls them once they’re buried to the knuckle, a lewd squelch emitting from you. It’s a noise that has your ears reddening in embarrassment, but he continues. 

“A-ahh, just like that…,” you manage to stammer out, until the pad of his thumb joins in. He massages your clit, cooing at how you melted against him as your shoulders hunched in on themselves. Toji’s free hand groped at one of your tits through your t-shirt. Well, his t-shirt. One that was bunched up around your waist. Both of you were too distracted to take it off. 

“Atta girl. Taking these fingers like a champ,” he grunts, the speed of his fingers increasing inside of you. Despite the fact that your body was held back by the asshole behind you, you rolled your hips as best as you could so that you could fuck yourself on his digits. Each grind had your ass milking his cock through his sweats, the front dark from beads of precum soaking the soft material. Whilst the friction was beyond delicious, Toji didn’t falter. Not for a second. 

“Heh, look at you,” condescending words met with a harsh thrust of his fingers. “You start feeling good and forget who’s really in charge around here.”

The warning goes over your head, and your eyes widen when you can feel his free arm hook itself snugly around your throat. Toji fully intends to keep you in place with this headlock. 

“You wanna hump me like some bitch? Now do it,” he drawled lowly, slowly hunching over your back as his mouth drags over your jaw. Two fingers turn into three, relentless as they fucked the arousal out of you. “Slutty pussy droolin’ all over my lap.”

You’re gasping and moaning, all whilst being unable to move. The arm around your throat isn’t too tight, but he periodically flexes it just to remind you of your place. “Gonna cum, think I’m g-gonna cum, oh-”

“Nah, don’t think so,” and so he withdraws his fingers. He does so without warning. A full body shudder leaves you, frustration and the urge to cum becoming overwhelming. “Fuck, you feel that? Pussy didn’t want me to let go,” Toji muses out loud, the sounds of licking coming from behind you when he rolls his tongue around his wet digits. As filthy as ever. 

You want to berate him, tell him off for being disgusting. But his nose buries itself at the crook of your neck before gives your clit a little tug. 

“Toji, please!”

And who was he to deny you when you begged so sweetly?

First, he spread your lips open with his fingers in a scissor-like motion. Then, you felt your boyfriend stuffing you full once more, causing a mini-sob to leave your lips in sweet relief. He moaned deeply at the heat that enveloped his fingers again, curling his fingers in a hooked manner. 

“S-so close, I swear,” you were letting the tears flow freely now, breathing coming out unevenly as Toji took in your words with a feral sort of glee. At the prospect of your approaching orgasm, Toji doubled his efforts. In and out his fingers plunged, speeding up and slowing down at a pace he deemed fit for your pleasure. 

“Make a mess on me, doll. Know you can do it,” he urged feverishly, sounding as desperate as you felt. Drops of sweat beaded on his temple, drenching the neckline of his own compression shirt. The headlock Toji had you in tightened just a fraction as his palm wetly smacked against your pubic bone repeatedly, causing the dewy splatters of your orgasm to leave you at long last. Your stomach tensed, ache in your pussy growing unbearable until that coil snapped and you came with an embarrassingly loud squeal. Toji hushed you, fingers slipping out and focusing on prolonging your orgasm by massaging your clit once more. 

“Thaaaat’s it,” your boyfriend grinned wolfishly as you spasmed against him. But that wasn’t enough. Not for him. You hadn’t squirted yet, and he was dead set on testing your velocity. You shouldn’t have been surprised when Toji’s fingers began its filthy rhythm once more, all whilst his lips pecked at your temple. 

“You know what to say if you want me to stop.”

the ending is rushed eek sorry

divider by @omi-resources

[somanyideassolittletime]

crumbs.

Pairing: Jack Abbot x fem!reader

Summary: secret marriage just for shit and giggles. crack fic lowkey.

Warnings: language. insinuation to sex. mentions of cheating (not Jack). grammar inaccuracies as usual. have fun hahahaha idk why i write this.

Nobody ever pieced together the fact that both you and Jack are married to each other. Everyone, with the exception of Robby and Dana, that is. Everyone knows that Jack has a wife, whom he never refers to by name. Everyone also knows that you have a husband, who, to everyone’s convenience, is also referred to by you as your husband. 

It was common knowledge that you and Jack are close, eerily close to the point Whitaker once asked Jack if his wife knows you. One time, Langdon even asked Robby what’s going on in your house that you allowed yourself to be really close with Jack. 

Both of which were answered by “Not your business.” – In Robby’s case, he was right, though in Jack’s case, he was just messing with Whitaker.

Shen has a theory that Jack is cheating with his wife with you, and he got smacked by Ellis, saying, “What opposite sex can’t be friends now?” 

Javadi once asked you if Jack is your ‘Utah’, whom you can’t have but are attracted to. You laughed at her, saying, “I’m married” – to him. You should’ve said, but what importance is it anyway? 

When asked about her opinion – by Matteo, in one of their after-shift gossip sesh – Santos only answered with “Abbot? Yeah, no way that dude’s getting side chick. With her nonetheless” in front of Robby, who only scoffs, laughing nonetheless. 

It also doesn’t help with the fact that you two are damn professionals, never leaving any crumbs for others about your relationship with eachother – one time, the both of you had a big debate about patient care, making everyone who thinks both of you are married change their mind. 

(“See, if they’re married, you think Abbot would argue with her?” Mckay once said to whitaker. 

“It’s still weird they’re that close.”) 

It wasn’t like you two were overly secretive about it; if they were to just outwardly ask who it is you are married to, you would’ve answered them. But you know how kids are with their egos. You weren’t planning on making it a big secret anyway, but what started as a fun ‘private not secret’ thing became your source of entertainment. 

So when one of you accidentally leaves some crumbs, they eat them up like a starving wolf. 

| one

The first crumb started out with Jack’s car sweater, the one you insist on leaving in the car since he never outwardly says that he’s cold. It’s not like he planned on wearing the sweater that night, but it was so damn cold he started thanking you for leaving the sweater in his car on his way. 

“Didn't know you both went to the same school, man. Is that why you two are real close?” Shen commented to Jack as the latter peeled his sweater off his body and tossed it into his locker.

“What? Who?” Jack tried to be nonchalant in his response; if Shen were to find out, everyone would find out. Not that he minded, it was just so fun to see everyone trying to piece it together. 

“Y/n, man. Met her last week when she swung by my place,” 

“You met her last week?” Jack questioned him. Though he did remember you saying you’re going to Shen’s to drop something.

“Yeah, I was borrowing her speaker. Mine's busted. Told me that she rarely uses it now.” Shen sipped his iced coffee when a voice joined in behind.

“Whose stuff are you taking again now?” Ellis chimes in between the two men while opening up her locker and putting her stuff inside.

“Y/n. And no, I didn't take it, she kindly gave it to me – or I borrowed it – from her since she told me she never used it anymore.” Shen rolls his eyes, indulging in Ellis's antics nonetheless.

“ah yeah, is she coming today?” Yeah like he didn't just kiss her goodbye before going to work.

“Nah, man, it's her day off. Look, Abbot, you know I have like utmost respect for you, right?” Now this is getting fun.

Jack nodded slowly, unsure, and replied, “what do you mean?”

“Both of you always had like this weird connection, like mad weird. But don’t you think it’s bordering… I dunno like weird?” Ellis explained to him like it was a conspiracy theory they are unraveling.

“Yeah, I lost you,” Jack said. Shen sighed loudly, “You’re married, she’s married, y’know? Boundaries, man, boundaries.” 

“I’ll have you know my boundaries with my wife are perfectly intact,” Jack tried to say it as calmly as possible, but he bit his cheek in order to keep his smirk contained. 

“Okay, whatever.-” Shen sipped his coffee Jack was sure he needed to physically hold back from swatting it from his hand. “-just, respect, man, respect” 

Jack raised his eyebrow. “is there something I don’t know ?” Ellis cut to the chase, asking Shen. 

“y/n wear his sweater,” Ellis gasped, Jack mock offense. “What the hell?”

“You said it like only one exist, you can go to the nearest goodwill and find that shit man.” now Jack and you had promised not to lie if anyone were to ask, but he technically did not lie right now. 

“Oh the college one? Yeah, almost everyone who go there has one.” Ellis shoved Shen for giving her – what she thought – was misinformation. 

Jack huffed dramatically, rubbing his face (in a attempt to hide his grin) “thank you, finally some sense” 

“Nah, still gotta respect them boundaries, man,” Ellis shrugged. Shen still looked at him accusingly. 

“Y’know what? Why do I even listen to you guys? We got work to do, c’mon,” Jack said, clipping his badge to the side pocket of his pants.

Shen points his finger at him, walking away with Ellis “boundaries”. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved him off, before fishing his phone out of his pocket. 

|Jack : you know for someone who thinks this is fun, you keep giving them hints. 

|you : what now? 

|Jack : the damn car sweater. 

|you : Oh HAHA, you know if John just peeked out of his driveway, he would see I was driving your truck. 

|Jack : nah, he’s smart, but not that smart. 

|you : I have zero tolerance on my kid’s slander. How dare you????

|Jack : hon you can pick anyone and you choose him? C’mon now. 

He was called out before he can see your response, quickly he typed in. 

|Jack : i gotta go. Love you, don’t watch the new episode without me. 

|you: Hmmm hard bargain but love you too. 

| two 

The second crumbs were your fault. You were going to do some me time – and you always told Jack to get himself a good thermos for his coffee, he told you that he can always use yours, but when you pointed out to him that your bottles have bizarre colours, he gave in and gave you his card to, in his words, ‘surprise me’ before kissing your temple and walking you to the door – So your plan for the day was to get him a good thermos that can hold his coffee hot for at least his entire shift. 

How hard is it to get it right? Wrong. You’ve been to two target, one walmart, and one sporting store, only to find zilch. Okay, if Jack are okay with pastel yellow you could’ve gotten it in the first store. But you were looking for something more….him. So now here you are in an outdoor store looking for one freaking plain black thermos. 

Finally finding what you wanted to give to Jack, you were just taking it off the shelves when someone called out your name. 

“L/n? Fancy seeing you here.” You turned your head away to the voice, finding Jesse smiling at you. 

“Ugh, Jess, stop calling me that,” you groaned at him. “Habit, sorry-” he looked at the thermos in your hand, jutting his chin out to point at it, “-that’s a different vibe for you” 

You looked at the thermos in your hand, sheepishly, “ah yeah, wanted something neutral. You here alone?” you said, trying to change the topic from said bottle in your hand. 

He nodded, “Yeah, you in a hurry? I kinda need your input on a Jacket.” You shake your head, “nah, let’s see the jacket.” 

You should’ve been thankful that Jesse got himself on a different self-checkout, because if he were queuing behind you, he would’ve seen the card nameholder definitely not stating your name. But you put that encounter in the back of your mind until it was hinted at next time you met him.

It was a few hours into the shift when Jack took out his thermos at his station, sipping on it. Holy shit, it’s still hot. He thought. 

“Fancypants bottle you got over there,” Mckay pointed out at him. Catching the attention of nurses around – Jesse included. 

You heard McKay’s comment the first time, but decided that it’s probably just a chat, so you busied yourself. Looking over at him occasionally. 

“At least my coffee’s hot to keep me sane,” Jack commented to her, seeing the looks the nurses were giving him, he tried to pay no attention. 

Jesse approached him, “Actually, Abbot, can I see? I’ve been wanting to buy one” 

Jack nodded, handing his thermos to Jesse, who looked at the thermos way too thoroughly. He smirked to himself, “Didn’t peg you as someone who uses this,” he said, handing it back to Jack. 

 “Yeah, someone gave it to me. It’s cool, though. Still scorching hot.” 

Hearing that, Jesse looked over to you, who caught your eyes on him, and he raised his eyebrow suspiciously at you. You looked away too fast for someone innocent, and he smirked smugly at you. You shrugged at him, mouthing what? He laughed at that. 

“Why are you laughing, man?” McKay asked him. He shakes his head. “Nah, just reminded me of someone, I’ll put one on my wishlist though,” he said, the last part pointing at Jack’s thermos. 

Jack, who doesn’t understand what’s happening, over his damn bottle nonetheless, decides to continue focusing on the screen in front of him. 

It wasn’t until later that you realized why Jesse looked over at you when he called you “dr. someone.” fuck, he saw me buy that fucking thermos. You were going to talk back at him, but he was long gone. 

“Is it true? You gave him that bottle?” Ellis asked you as you were preparing to go home that day. 

You stopped your action, trying to stay cool. “What? Who?” – it has been a fun couple of years, shame it all go to waste because of a stupid thermos. 

“Jesse told me he saw you buy a bottle similar to one in Abbot’s hand” she explained, pointing at Jack, bag in his shoulder and the thermos in his hand. 

“So what? I gave Abbot a bottle and you act like it’s the end of the world” she looked at you incredulously, exasperated “dude, your husband, remember???” 

You laughed at her, “he won’t be mad. Gotta go bye” you said quickly, jogging over to the exit door. Still holding a grin. 

| three

The third crumb was a joint fault. It was because of a damn phone call. It’s not way too early in the morning, but it was one of those hours when it’s suspicious to be spending it together. 

Both of you just woke up, still trying to fight the sleep from your eyes with a cup of coffee in the silence of the kitchen, when the phone rang from the bedroom. 

Without a second thought, you stand up and walk to the room, looking at the caller. Langdon. You groaned, accepting the call. 

“Frank, I swear-” You looked over the nightstand. Huh, that’s my phone there. Langdon’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “y/n?” you stilled. Shit. That’s my phone. This is Jack’s phone. 

You ran through the house, over to the kitchen, ignoring Jack’s confused face, before shoving the phone to his ear. You mouthed to him. Langdon. 

“Abbot. What’s wrong?” his voice gruff, almost annoyed. He looked over to you before listening to what Langdon was asking him. Why are you giving this to me? 

You mouthed back at him. Not my phone. He smirked, holding back a laugh before explaining to Langdon what he needed. 

You decided to go back to the bedroom to get the right phone. You scrolled over the notifications, mindlessly walking back to the kitchen. 

When you get back to Jack’s side, Langdon’s voice is muffled, but you can still hear it from where you’re standing. 

“Is that Y/n before?” he asked Jack, who elbowed your side gently before putting his arm around your waist. 

“What? Who? It’s my day off today. Just let me turn my fucking phone off.” 

“Oh shit. It is-.” Jack disconnected the call as soon as possible. 

He turned over slightly, facing you, laughing. “Remind me again why we still play this stupid game?” 

You stepped closer between his thighs, he leaned his head into your stomach, “because it’s fun-” you said, putting your hand in his curls. “-and god knows we need some fun things to do.” 

He slipped his hands under your shirt, needing the skin contact. You put your hands under his jaw, tilting his head slightly before meeting his lips in a fleeting kiss. 

“Jack, you know I love you, but your hand’s freezing,” you said to him, taking his hands in yours, removing them from your skin. 

He huffed, “You know your kid’s theorizing that I cheat on my wife with you, right?” 

You laughed wholeheartedly, knowing who he meant. “Oh my god, did we just adopt Shen?” he nodded. “Sounds about right.” 

You reached for your coffee before entertaining Jack’s earlier admission. “Matteo told me that Santos said you can’t bag me.” smiling into your mug. 

“Huh. last night’s my only argument” 

You gave him a serious look, “do you think we should tell everyone? 5 years enough for secrets don’t you think?” 

“Love, can i be honest?” you nodded at him, urging him to continue. “I kinda find it fun.” 

You rolled your eyes, “fuck I thought you wanna say somethin” 

“Whoa you kiss your husband with that mouth?” he teased. You shoved him gently before walking away “yeah, my husband ain’t getting a kiss today” 

You couldn’t see him feigning mock hurt, “wait you serious?-” 

“Hon?” you laughed at him back in the bedroom, hearing shuffled footsteps. 

|four 

The fourth crumbs was not a crumb, its a damn cookie being dropped, aka Jack finally tell everyone the depth of your relationship. 

It wasn’t even the worst shift both of you have experienced; it was fairly mild, to quote Shen’s words. But the med student currently on his ED rotation is getting on his nerves with how much he hovers over you. 

“Dr. l/n can I join you?”

“Dr. l/n can you teach me?” 

“Oh I can help you” 

And the worst of it all? Was him asking you, his wife, “dr. l/n, you’re working nights, is your husband treating you right?” 

You handled him like a champ, it’s not your first rodeo after all, so you gently put a hand on his shoulder, “trust me, if that’s what you're asking after joining me on multiple cases, you should reconsider being a doctor. Now take 20, heard there’s some food in the break room.” 

Ellis, the angel that she is, called out to him to join her in the break room, where Shen and Jack – on your insistence to take a break – are eating pastries. 

“What’s he doing here? y/n’s wearing you down, kid?” Shen commented, earning a shake of the head from said kid. 

“She told me to take 20.” Shen whistled, “damn. 4 hours. Record breaker over here.” 

Ellis laughed, looking over at the kid who looked lost. “If y/n tells you to take 20 means either you’re overworking yourself or you piss her off.” 

The kid takes offense at Ellis’ words, “ I helped her. A lot. Not my fault she’s pissed at me.” 

“You literally ask her about her home life, kid.” Ellis shrugged, leaning over to take a plain croissant – knowing the last pain au chocolate is yours. 

“He what?” Shen looked at the kid with a raised eyebrow, waiting for Jack to say something. 

“It’s a fair question, I mean, why would she even be working nights when she should be at home with her husband, y’know?” he said that as if it was no big deal, hand reaching out to take the pain au chocolate. 

Shen and Jack instinctively swat his hand away. “Not that one,” both of them said at the same time. The new kid retracts his hand, scared, before reaching over to the cheese croissant. 

“Hey, Dr. Abbot-” he turns his head towards Jack, “you’re the closest one with her, right?” Jack nodded, still hadn’t said a word the entire time he’s been here. Shen stood up, walking over to Ellis, looking for two mugs, pouring coffee before passing one to Jack.  

“Do you think she’ll go for breakfast with me after the shift’s over?” 

Y’know what? I’m sick of this. “Why would you?” 

“Well, she’s hot-. And smart as hell. Doesn’t help that she’s-” he stopped his rambling when he saw you walking over to the break room. Jack has his back on the door, but he always knows you’re close – a freak superpower, Ellis once told him. 

“Should I say the q word so you guys aren’t bored or what?” you said as you entered the room. 

“Don’t you dare.” “If you can say it faster than my hands,” both Shen and Ellis said, making you laugh. You looked over Jack’s shoulder to see the hot coffee in front of him. 

Without thinking, you walked over, putting your hand on his shoulder, taking the mug in your hand before bringing the coffee to your mouth. Sighing in content. 

“That’s his coffee,” the new kid commented. It was nothing out of the ordinary for Shen and Ellis, both currently thinking about how to stir the pot. 

“I know?” you asked him, unsure what he was insinuating. “That’s dr. Abbot’s coffee. You just drank from his mug.” 

The pot need not be stirred. Ellis and Shen are already liking where this goes. 

“What? My wife can’t take my coffee? Go ahead, ask her for breakfast.” Jack said, his hand shooting up to his shoulder to hold your hand. 

While the kid was flabbergasted, Shen was the first one to speak up. “What the fuck? What about your wife?” Ellis slapped the back of his head. “She’s his wife, you idiot” 

You chuckled, leaning down to give Jack’s curls a peck. “Damn, you said it was fun?” Jack shrugged. “Eh, getting pretty tired.” 

The kid stood up, looking at you, “i’m sorry. I crossed a line. Hope you understand.” you offered him a hand, “no hard feelings, kid.” he shook your hand, walking away from the room hurriedly. 

Shen was still lost, and Ellis already had an inkling but never voiced it out – she once saw both of you making out in a bar watching a Steelers game. 

“Any questions, John?” you looked over at Shen, “since when? HR? Why? Who knows?” you laughed at him, sitting down beside Jack. 

“HR’s good, no power imbalance. why? Hmm I don’t know. Was fun, I guess-” you put your hand on Jack’s knee, “was before your time, but who officially knows is Robby and Dana. How long? Well, how long have we been together, Jack?” 

Jack chuckled “fuck if  I know, we both ain’t counting. But married for 5”  putting his hand on top of yours. 

“So when I told you about that sweater, it actually is yours? And Frank’s phone call was actually you? And that damn bottle rumors Jesse said was true?” 

“Do you need them to spell it out for you or what?” Ellis said to Shen. Jack leaned toward you, “told you your kid’s stupid.” You shoved his shoulder, still smiling. 

Ellis points at you. “Hey? What about me?” Shen smiles smugly at her. “I’m their kid. Take the L”

You reached over to Jack’s coffee again, smiling into the cup as you took a sip. Jack groaned “dude, we just outed your main gossip source, and that’s what you guys are concerned about?” 

“Oh no, we don’t care about you. About y/n though, so which one of us you love more?” Shen asked you. You laughed, giving Jack a peck on the cheek – his eyes fluttered, one Ellis catch. 

If this is what it entails when everyone knows of your relationship, Jack would’ve told everyone the moment you guys got married. 

“Not my fault, I’m lovable.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going. You both can pester her all you want.” Jack said as he stood up, squeezing your shoulder, looking over at the kids. 

“So, what are you nosy about?” 

[sqgeism]

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 kiss me beneath the milky twilight ! | amphoreus men x gender neutral reader

💌 — ; your first kiss with amphoreus men :)

love mail — short ? ish ? i'm rly like 5050 on it idk whats short anymkre ( ﾟ□ﾟ) hiiii guys ! :D im rly curious which hsr character reminds u of me (totally stolen from airi) LOL this was kind of fun i love intimacy its cute (；^ω^)

anaxa is a bit of a romantic at heart, even if the cold glares and scary aura act as if otherwise. he doesn't know why people want to explain it, he loves you. why would he be cruel if his heart only beats for you? common sense, he thinks.

and you can feel just how fast his heart is beating as you lay on top of him, under the stars and anaxa's back on the grass, stargazing in the silence of the night. words aren't exchanged because you two have come to realize that not every silence needs to be filled, just appreciated. it isn't every day that the world is quiet enough to hear anaxa's soft breaths, some sort of proof he's real. that he's still alive to enjoy this moment. and he can't be more thankful to the gods he doesn't believe in for the kindness he's always cursed them for never having.

"dove?" he calls to you, bringing his hand to your cheek and bringing you up closer to his face. "yes, anaxagoras?" cursed heart, fluttering at the little giggle that comes with you saying his name. you say it so.. fondly, no one could ever compare.

the night has been perfect, your existence has consumed his every thought, and it's made him think about only one thing; "i need to kiss them."

enough time has passed, right? it's been a couple of months, he feels confident, but also hoping that the ground under him would swallow him whole.

all he needs is an indication you also want this, that you've been yearning for his lips the way he's dreamed about yours every night. (pleasedon'tthinkhe'sweird)

while stuck in his train of thought, he's realizing now that he's just been staring at you. smiling all sweetly— which makes this worst—cause you look so pure while his thoughts are far from innocent.

"would.. it be too crude to.. tell you that i want you? that.." you need to stop looking at him like that, with those eyes that capture his attention every time. "that i want you.. to kiss me. kiss me till i grow sick from the taste of you."

and you do, pressing your lips against his as he can only smirk. his request was a trick hypothetical, he'll never want to stop. he's obsessed, you have to deal with him now.

mydei was celebrating your fourth month together, yes he's the type of guy to celebrate monthly anniversaries... sue him for being in love... but yes. four months isn't a lot of time but phainon's been asking about first kisses, which has YET to happen but there's really no rush. he doesn't wanna force anything you're not yet ready for, putting into consideration it's something so big. the first kiss has to be special, which is why he's in the process of making you an entire full course meal of your favorite dishes. all while you sit and look gorgeous by the counter, watching him like he's doing the most attractive thing a man can do. all while in a soft pink apron and his hair tied up since he thinks it gets into the food sometimes which is his worst fear.

what was he thinking again? right... right! not burning his hand. completely lost his train of thought after you complimented how nice he looked at this very moment. he could swear you had a certain look in your eyes, hungry for something entirely unrelated to food. may the aeon's forsake his heart for having it stutter like this. but also don't make it stop, he loves it, a bit too much.

when dinner is served, mydei is sure to tend to your every need. want more salt? he's up to get the shaker. water? refilled the pitcher to the very top as well as your glass. "mydei, i'll just get some tissue from the kitche—" he's already up, and you wanna beat him to it, but he's already stopping your path with the biggest smile. "sweetheart, why are you standing?" he chuckles, and you fake a little pout. "i wanna get it on my own. don't wanna have you do everything."

"if i'm not doing everything for you, i'm not doing things right." he counters while his hands travel to your waist, humming a little murmur of your name. "so perfect. just sit, i'll get them for you."

matching his advances, your arms quietly move to his shoulders, leaning into him as you usually do. "come on, let me do at least one thing for you."

this is starting to sound like it's not just about tissues. "please, just.. one thing."

are you supposed to be leaning into each others lips when you're asking for tissues? probably not. but mydei doesn't want to let this moment slip, he sees your slight hesitation, which if it was up to him he would've totally just kissed that doubt out of you. but he needs to hear the verbal confirmation. a reassurance that he's doing this right. "there are possibilities wherein this moment passes me without ever knowing what your lips feel against mine. please, please indulge in me for just a moment."

it lasted far longer than a moment. <3

phainon is a bit too much for a flirt to not get to the closest thing to a first kiss. cheek kisses is his favorite form of affection at the moment.. gets him all weak in the knees. he loves seeing you lean in for one and he just asks for another one till he's satisfied. greedy, yes. does he care? not really.

in a flowerfield of just the two of you and the prettiest floral scenery, it's a shot straight out of a movie. you're sat next to phainon, putting little flowers in his hair as he gets to admire you, a perfectly fair trade. you get to love the flowers, he gets to love you. all he ever needs to be honest.

"how did i ever get so lucky?" he sighs dramatically, pulling you closer by the waist as you snicker at his theatrics. "your soul is as beautiful as this field. i'm telling you, angel. if you stay any longer then the aeon's might try to take you away from me." his words have never failed to make you feel valued, and it's but a fraction of how he truly feels about you. he knows he will never be able to put everything into mere words, you deserve so much more than just that.

"phai, please. any sweeter and bees will start to use you for honey." and there it is, one of the many things phainon adores about you. just.. effortlessly matching him. his humor, aesthetics, lifestyle, passion.. all those things, you've perfectly matched his own. "i can take a few stings."

because it felt right, he kisses your cheek a couple of times, making you giggle and jokingly try to push him away, even if your strength is basically at zero and almost pulling him closer.

when he's finished, the blue haired hero points at his lips and smirks. "wanna return the favor, baby? right here is perfect."

it isn't the first time he's made this joke, and it probably won't be the last, but for once you feel.. ready. like it's right.

so when you close the gap between your lips and his, phainon absolutely malfunctions for a second. before locking in and kissing you with gentle fervor, one hand barely on your cheek because he wants to reassure you that you're free to pull away.

and when you don't, he's on cloud 9 the whole time. takes you into his arms and you both fall into the flowers, not breaking the kiss for a moment as laughter and lips crashing against one another fill the air.

© sqgeism or wtv (^_^;)

[consistantly-changing]

[Image descriptions in order: screenshots of tweets, which say:

assistant inspector @/housetrotter: american pope used to be one of those things airport bookstore authors would put in their near-future fiction to indicate that things have become a little different and weird

Matt McDermott (verified).@/mattmfm7h: Pretty incredible to watch the MAGA movement collectively realize that their ideological worldview, aside from abortion, is entirely antithetical to the teachings of Catholicism.

dalton @/indaltonwetrvst: staffer: sir, the college of cardinals has elected an american pope

joe biden [ munching on a block of Kerrygold butter ]: hot damn. we do that?

Cody Johnston @/drmistercody: "If JD Vance has no haters, I am dead." - at least a couple Popes]

[one dozen rats at a keyboard @/P...: "Not proactively LGBT hostile" is about the best you can hope for from a Pope so if you have to dig back to 2012 to find an “alternative lifestyles" quote from Leo XIV that honestly beats the curve.

Jared Cook @/jkimballcook: the first pope to have saved big money at menards]

[Madoc Cairns (verified) @/MadocCairns: I was alarmed at him being American at first but on reflection a woke latin mass saying trump hating pro-migrant BLM supporting registered Republican Chicago born white guy who moved to Peru and became Latino is more or less the kind of insane energy you want from a Pope

Matthew Zeitlin @/MattZeitlin: well this means we've likely avoided a boston pope for the rest of our lifetimes, can you imagine

Dan Shafer (verified) @/DanRShafer: The Popemobile just cut you off on I-94]

[Edward-Isaac Dovere @/IsaacDo...: Is it possible that the new leader of a 2,000 year old religion, selected by 131 men from all over the world, does not fit neatly and fully into the agendas of either major American political party

DiscussingFilm (verified) @/DiscussingFilm: The new Pope, Pope Leo XIV, watched the 'CONCLAVE' movie right before the actual conclave.

"I said 'Did you watch the movie 'Conclave' so you know how to behave? And he had just finished watching the movie," says the Pope's brother.

(Source: @ NBCNews)

{An image of the new pope and a promotional image for Conclave}]

[just matt @/questionableway: LMFAO

{Text which says "Editor's Note: This story has been updated after the new pope's older brother denied reports he is a Cubs fan."}

Socialists For Pritzker @/PritzkerF...: Imagine converting to Catholicism and every single Pope from then on personally knows and hates you.]

[tonsured pussy @/sweetseaslug: Pope francis excommunicate jd vance and you will be reincarnated as a lotus flower (aide whispers in my ear) i mean go to jesus heaven or whatever

tonsured pussy in a reply: Pope leo xiv excommunicate jd vance and you will be reincarnated as the bean

Ali B @/wtflanksteak: The father, the son and da Bears, amiright?]

[♰ @/basterdk_9h: pros:

- close to francis

- living outside america for a decade

- peru citizenship

- didnt speak in English

- neutral stance

- supposedly anti-trump

cons:

- hes american

- hes american

- poor management of SA cases within the church

- hes american

- neutral stance]

[Sam Jeske @/Sam_Jeske: ok I'm on board

{Screenshot of a tweet by Robert Prevost @/drprevost, which says "JD Vance is wrong".}

elizabeth handgun @0OneFeIISw... In a reply: sorry but imagine getting bodied by two consecutive popes. i'd kill myself personally

Matti @/matticure: An American Pope is kinda like a DEI Pope if you think about it]

[Fr. Paul @/BackwardsFeet: Leo XIV is from the Midwest which means he's actually the Ope

Dr. Laura Robinson @/LauraRbnsn: Seeing a lot of hot takes of people trying to figure out if the pope is conservative or not because he's pro-life but he's also pro-immigration and care for the poor.

Idk, guys. Call me crazy, but I think the pope might be Catholic.

Agita Christie @/pagan_hoetry: He's probably eaten more hot dogs than all the previous 266 popes combined]

chicago pope tweets

[katethewriter]

Just For A Picture

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader

Words: 2.6k~

Summary: Based on the song Smile by Morgan Wallen

Warnings: grab your tissues my friends, depression, anxiety, all the sad feelings, I wrote this instead of sleeping and haven't proof read it, so there are probably many, many errors

A/N: I actually listened to the lyrics of this song for the first time, and they hurt my feelings. Jokes aside, idk if this is how he meant to write the song, but I heard it and thought, "that's exactly what it feels like to love someone with depression." The song got stuck in my head, and... well... this happened. It was actually really cathartic to write. I hope you enjoy!

When you began getting ready for the party, they were surprised... 

...pleasantly.  

Natasha and Wanda share a small smile before continuing their own prep. Wary that a larger reaction may cause you to change your mind.  

Yesterday, you had told them you would go to the party, but they weren’t sure if you would still feel the same today.  

It had been so long since you had gone out with the team.  

You’ve been able to keep up with training and missions for the most part, but everything else is just too much. Socializing, exercising, cooking, chores, bathing, eating, even getting out bed some days just seems impossible. 

The last few months being the worst you’ve had in a while.  

The team does all they can. Your girlfriends most of all. They try to take as much of the burden for you, but they know there are some parts of this they can’t take from you, no matter how much they wish they could. So, they do what they can and enjoy whatever moments they are able to share with you. 

Which is why tonight means everything to them. 

I can’t remember the last time you looked as happy as you did tonight.  

The team has the entire place to themselves.  

Carol is on Earth for a few days, and Tony had bought out the entire bar to celebrate.  

Wanda and Natasha stand with you at a table to the side of the bar. Each of you have a drink in front of you, even if you hadn’t taken a single sip of yours. 

They can tell your uncomfortable, but you’re trying.  

For them, right now, that is enough.  

“Thank you for coming out with us tonight,” Wanda wraps a careful arm around your waist. 

Natasha reaches across the table to take one of your hands in yours, “we’re so proud of you.”  

You give them a smile that doesn’t come close to reaching your eyes and bring your glass to your lips.  

“What are you doing all the way over here?” Carol asks, coming up and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.  

“Just a little quieter,” you answer her with a small smile.  

The blonde steps away from the table pulling gently on your arm, “come take a picture with me?”  

You give a quick glance to your girlfriends, before allowing yourself to be pulled away. 

Your tipsy friend grabbed that bar tender, gave him her phone and pulled you over there with her.  

Carol hands her phone to the guy behind the bar and pulls you close to your side.  

You’re not particularly fond of pictures, but seeing as she is your best friend, you oblige her. You ready yourself to make your best fake smile.  

As the bartender holds up the camera, Carol whispers a joke in your ear.  

... and for the first time in a really long time, a genuine laugh bubbles up from your throat. 

He counted to three, and baby I haven’t seen that side of you in forever.  

From the table, your girlfriends watch as the two of you pose. They know you dislike photos, but they also know Carol, as your best friend, is capable of talking you into doing anything.  

They watch as the bartender counts 1...2... You smile.  

Most people would probably think nothing of it. They would see that smile and think you’re the happiest person alive. 

 But not the two of them. They know you. They know that smile. They know it's the mask you put on when that's the best you can do.  

Just before he gets to 3, Carol says something they can’t hear, then the most beautiful sound cuts through the air. 

A laugh.  

Your laugh. 

Your real laugh. 

The bartender snaps the picture and captures you smiling ear to ear. 

A smile they barely remember but still takes their breath away every time they see it.  

Natasha and Wanda relish in the sight. The concern ever present in their chests lifting, if even for a second. 

I hate it's the truth, but baby you never do when we’re alone together.  

As the night goes on, the weight on Natasha and Wanda continues to lift as you become more yourself then you’ve been in months. 

You don’t order your own meal, but you help both Wanda and Natasha finish their plates.  

You even take up Yelena’s offer to taste her mac ‘n cheese. Normally the blonde would never share with anyone, but you having any kind of appetite is more than worth it for her.  

You tell Carol about the new book series you’ve read since she was last on earth. She makes you pinky swear to let her borrow them before she has to leave again. 

You playfully debate over the correct order to watch the Star Wars movies with the guys.  

You roll your eyes when Clint and Kate let you win a game of darts. 

It takes a couple drinks, but they are eventually able to get you on the dance floor for a bit.  

When the dj slows the music down, Wanda and Natasha wrap their arms around you and sway softly to the music.  

“Are you having a good time?” Wanda asks gently. 

You nod your head with a smile. The alcohol has turned your brain a bit fuzzy. The thoughts that normally cloud your consciousness are quiet. You feel like you can relax. ... like you can breathe. It’s not weighing you down. It's not unbearable. 

 “Are there plans for tomorrow?” you ask quietly, resting your head on Natasha’s shoulder, feeling just a bit sleepy.  

“Do you want plans?” Natasha answers your question with a question of her own.  

You don’t answer verbally, only nodding. 

“Ok,” you can hear the soft smile in Wanda’s voice, “what about brunch and maybe a walk in the park?”  

“Does that sound good?” Natasha asks. 

Again, all you give them is a nod, this time with a smile to accompany. 

They share a look full of relief and hope.  

Relief that you have this break from the demons in your head.  

Hope that better times may finally be on the horizon. 

It was good to see you smile.  Girl, you know it's been a while. 

Natasha had woken first like normal. She slid out of bed, kissing both yours and Wanda’s heads without waking either of you.  

Her regular morning run seemed so much lighter today, like she had an extra pep in her step.  

She knows the culprit.  

You.  

You at the party last night. 

You agreeing to go out with them today. 

You finally coming back to them.  

This wasn’t the first depressive episode you’ve had since the three of you had been together, but it was the longest.  

They know this mental illness isn’t you.

Just a thief.

A thief that comes and takes your joy. Takes you from them for a time.  

They know this. They know all they can do is love you in every way they can, until the thief releases you again.  

They take advantage of those times. Cherish them, every second.  

When she returns to the compound, Natasha pulls out her phone. She calls your favorite brunch spot, making a reservation for three at your favorite table by the window.  

She ends the call just as she reaches the door to your shared room.  

She opens the door as wide as the smile on her face.  

She’s met with a look of despair on Wanda’s face. Her green eyes are glassy as her arm wrap around you. Your face is buried into Wanda’s chest. Your hands gripping her night shirt. Your shoulders shake tremble with the sobs you struggle to restrain.  

Natasha’s smile falters as reality sinks in.  

The thief had returned. 

They say a picture’s worth a thousand words, but you ain’t said one since you woke up.  

Wanda shushes you gently, rocking a bit, rubbing your back. Anything she can to bring you even the smallest bit of comfort.  

Natasha lays behind you wrapping her arm around your waist, “no spoons?” She uses the same analogy you had when you explained your depression to them the first time. 

You shake your head as a shaky breath claws its way down your throat.  

“That’s ok,” she comforts, “I’ll go steal some for you.” 

You chuckle lightly at her usual response. She knows it's not that simple. If only it were, you would never know a moment’s misery.  

But just knowing she’s here, that they're both here is enough for now. 

Silly me, thinking we could make it work, but can you blame me for getting my hopes up? 

Wanda holds back tears as she holds you together in her arms.  

The thoughts in your head are too loud for her to block out, and they tear her heart apart. The way you think about yourself.  

She’d give anything to take them from you, especially because she can. Her powers give her that ability, but it would require her crossing a line she doesn’t have permission to cross. So she won’t. 

But it take everything in her not to. Especially after last night. The glimpse. The reminder of life when you aren’t being weighed down by the demons in your head.  

When you get to be happy again.  

You know it took me right back to how it used to be. 

Wanda and Natasha step into the kitchen. They didn’t want to leave you by yourself, but you assured them you were ok. You just wanted a minute alone, and they should go eat.  

“Morning.” Steve raises his cup to say hello.  

Natasha heads for the coffee maker, while Wanda goes to the fridge gathering a few ingredients for breakfast, “good morning.”  

“Is Y/n coming down?” Yelena asks. Everyone’s eyes turn to Natasha and Wanda, hopeful. 

Neither can bring themselves to voice it. They glance to each other for a moment, before Wanda gives them a tight-lipped smile followed by a shake of her head. 

A collective sigh of disappointment settles over the group. 

There’s a sweet sadness they feel together. They all miss her. She is their family. Without her, they feel like something is missing. 

Last night, they felt complete. 

“She did really good last night,” Clint says, sending Natasha a small supportive smile.  

She nods, “she did.” 

Baby seeing us like that, is still a little bittersweet.  

“Hey, can I show you something?” Carol asks, sitting down while Wanda and Natasha began to eat their breakfast.  

The pair nod and lean in as the blonde holds her phone, “I got a few pictures last night.”  

As she flips through the pictures, tears gather in both Wanda and Natasha’s eyes.  

First is the picture of you and Carol that the bartender took. Then a selfie of you, Carol and Pepper. A group shot of several of you around a table. You aiming a dart with Clint and Kate cheering you on behind you.   

The last picture is of you, Wanda and Natasha on the dance floor during a slow dance. You’re standing in their arms. Natasha in front of you, Wanda behind. You’re laying your head on Natasha’s shoulder. Their heads are resting on yours. 

They had no idea the picture was being taken, but you did.  

You are looking right at the camera with the softest smile. 

“I can send them to you if you’d like.” 

Wanda quickly wipes away the tears that have fallen, “please.” 

If someone were to see this, they’d think everything’s alright. 

Wanda stares. She can’t stop.  

Everyone else has finished breakfast and left the kitchen. The only one with her is Natasha who is cleaning the dishes.  

Wanda stands at the counter holding her phone in her hands. The last photo from last night fills her screen.  

There’s an ache too deep for words that settles in her chest.  

The aching wish that she could keep you in that precise moment the photo was taken.  

There on the dance floor, between the two of them, with that smile.  

Completely at peace. 

No raging thoughts. No anxieties. No feelings of inadequacy. 

The longer Wanda stares the stronger the ache gets. Tears fill her eyes until she can’t keep them at bay. Her lips quiver, and her face collapses in pain. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Natasha quickly wraps both arms around Wanda from behind, “I know, I know.” She tries to provide comfort as her girlfriends cries. 

Wanda drops her phone onto the counter and leans back into Natasha, “I just want to help her.”  

“I know.” 

They both look down to the photo.  

“I miss her.” 

Natasha holds her closer, “me too.” 

At least we got a pretty little moment frozen in time.  

They returned to the room a little while later. After they had put themselves back together well enough to be there how you needed them to be.  

They find you still in bed, curled up on your side. 

“Can I lay down with you?” Natasha asks, wanting to respect your space if you still need it, but you don’t. You just need them.  

You nod, and she curls herself behind you again.  

Wanda kneels beside the bed with a bowl in her hands, “I brought some fruit if you think you’re up for it.” 

You shake your head and just reach for her hand instead. 

She sets the bowl on the nightstand hoping for better luck later. When she lays in front of you, you curl into her chest as her fingers card through your hair.  

“I’m sorry.”  

“For not eating fruit?” Wanda questions. 

“You never have to apologize for that,” Natasha kisses your head, “we know you can’t control your appetite-” 

“No-” you interrupt, “for being like this.” They try to hush you, but you continue, “for being sad all the time, and not being able to do anything. I’m sorry you have to take care of me. I’m sorry you have to see me like this-” 

“Shhhhh, what do you mean see you like this?” Wanda takes your face into both of her hands. She brushes away your tears with her thumbs, “can I show you how we see you?”  

After a moment of looking into one another’s eyes, you nod. 

She gives you a kiss on the forehead, and suddenly you’re not in your bedroom in the compound. You’re at the bar from last night, but not in your perspective. You’re seeing through Wanda’s eyes.  

You watch as Carol drags you away for a picture you don’t want, but then you watch yourself laugh, truly laugh, and you can feel Wanda’s relief in that moment. You watch as Wanda shows you the rest of the night. You can feel the way she delights in your happiness. You watch your friends gravitate towards you. The way they look at you. The love they feel. The happiness to just have you with them.  

Then you’re on the dancefloor. The vision fades away and you’re left with Wanda’s feelings and emotions of holding you like you are the most precious thing there is left in this world. 

“We love you so much.” 

It was good to see you smile.  Girl you know its been a while.  It was good to see you smile.  

They lay in bed with you all day.  

They hold you as you doze in and out of sleep.  

You always sleep more on your worse days. 

So, they hold you.  

Praying that at least in your dreams, you get to smile again like you did last night. 

Even if it was, just for a picture. 

a/n: how did I do? I know it's been forever since I've posted anything new. Of course I come out with an angsty heavy hitter lol thank you for reading!

[cheftsunoda]

no im not in love — ln4

smau

lando norris x !best friend singer reader

yn and lando have been best friends for years— they have also spent those years doing things that ‘best friends’ don’t. morning cuddles, stealing kisses, sleeping together, getting jealous when the other is spotted with someone else. yn releases a song and fans pick it apart…noting it to be about lando. will this cause the two to finally admit that they love each other?

obviously based of the tate songgg

fc : madison beer and various pinterest girlies

⚠️not proofread! slight angst, gets a tiny bit steamy, blah blah⚠️

draft for yall while I proofread and fix part 4 of heal your heart

—

“swear im only sleeping at your house— six times in one week— cause its convenient.”

f1gossipgirls

248,275 likes.

f1gossipgirls : Singer YN LN leaving Lando Norris’ place six days in a row this week — coincidence or something more? The longtime best friends, who’ve known each other since their early teens, have fueled romance rumors for years. With this kind of consistency, fans are wondering if the ‘just friends’ label still applies…

—

username00 : lando! blink if your in love

username10 : she is always there…I don’t think this is out of the ordinary for them. she always pops up in his streams so we kind of know she is there

username5 : he was seen at a restaurant with magui last week too so idk

username7 : 6 days…in a row…this is more consistency than I have with my own employer

username17 : me pretending to be shocked while I’ve had a wedding pinterest board for them since 2019

username20 : the greatest situationship of our generation

username22 : that man is in love I will not elaborate

—

“are you coming over later?” lando asked over the phone and i chuckled to myself.

“i might as well move in at this point,” i said, and felt a smile creep onto my face.

“already made that offer and you said no,” he said, a teasing edge in his voice.

i rolled onto my back, staring up at the ceiling, my heart doing that annoying flutter thing it always did when he got like this — casual, but with just enough meaning to keep me spiraling.

“well…”i trailed off, biting my lip. “that was before you started bribing me with morning coffee and back rubs.”

“you forgot the part where i let you pick the movies and stick your cold feet on me,” he added, smug.

i laughed. “okay, true. honestly, i am starting to think you want me to move in.”

there was a pause — not awkward, just weighted — like he was thinking about how honest he wanted to be.

“i do,” he said simply. “i like having you here.”

that shut me up real quick. for a second, all I could hear was the sound of my own pulse in my ears.

“well,” I said, voice slightly higher than I intended, “guess I’ll start bringing more than just an overnight bag.”

he laughed, soft and warm. “good. ive already got a spot cleared out in the closet.”

—

“Only kinda dressing like you now— ‘cause your clothes they fit me — and that’s good reason.”

yn_ln added a post to her story!

seen by alexandrasaintmleux, lando, maxfewtrell & 2,376,299 others.

lando : looks so much better on you anyways

liked by yn_ln

alexandrasaintmleux : hmm…still at his place…in his hoodie?

liked by yn_ln

yn_ln : yes mum 🙄

liked by alexandrasaintmleux

alexandrasaintmleux: that’s funny…same thing I do with Charles WHO IS MY BOYFRIEND

liked by yn_ln

yn_ln : speaking of charles- tell him to stop being nosey

liked by alexandrasaintmleux

alexandrasaintmleux: WHAT HE SAY FUCK ME FOR - charles

—

i wasn’t planning to steal it.

but there it was, draped over the back of his couch — navy blue, soft-looking, and very obviously worn in. his favorite one. definitely the one I always “borrowed” and conveniently forgot to give back.

i glanced over my shoulder. lando was still in the kitchen, humming to himself and completely unaware of my criminal intentions.

i grabbed the hoodie and pulled it over my head. it smelled like him — some combination of expensive cologne, laundry detergent, and whatever shampoo he used that I secretly liked more than mine.

just as i was admiring myself in the mirror by the door, arms swallowed whole and sleeves dragging over my hands, i heard him behind me.

“oh, really?” he said, amused. “that’s your hoodie now?”

i turned slowly. “possession is nine-tenths of the law.”

he narrowed his eyes. “you are unbelievable.”

“and yet,” i said, tugging the sleeves over my fingers with a grin, “you still like me.”

he rolled his eyes but crossed the room and stood in front of me, eyes flicking down to the hoodie.

“i liked that one.”

i stood on my toes and kissed his cheek. “you still do. you are just sharing it now.”

he gave me the look — the one that meant he was annoyed, but also very clearly melting.

“you know you’re not getting away with this, right?”

i shrugged. “too late. ive already imprinted on it.”

—

“every friend of mine—I told them the same— no im not in love”

“so,” alexandra said, sipping her mimosa with an innocent smile, “how’s your new apartment been?”

I blinked. “My new what?”

Kika leaned forward, chin in hand. “lando’s. six nights this week, babe. we have a group chat. we have been counting.”

i nearly choked on my drink. “okay, first of all, you have way too much time on your hands. second, we are best friends.”

lily raised an eyebrow. “friends who do what, exactly? morning cuddles? sleep together? kiss each other? share clothes? share socks?”

i gaped at her. “that was one time—he had cold feet!”

kika smirked. “he has cold feet, and you’re in love.”

“i am not in love,” i said, louder than necessary, which of course made all three of them lean in.

alexandra tilted her head. “sure. you just smile at your phone every single time he texts you and you wear his clothes like you don’t have a whole closet of your own.”

i opened my mouth. closed it. opened it again. “its a nice hoodie!”

lily grinned. “and he’s a nice man. who makes you pancakes and lets you sleep in his bed.”

kika raised her glass. “to yn and lando— her completely platonic live in boyfriend.”

alexandra clinked hers with a laugh. “who she’s not in love with, of course.”

i groaned and dropped my face into my hands. “i hate all of you.”

“lies,” lily sang. “you love us. just like you love—”

“don’t say it.”

“—landoooo,” all three of them said in unison, full chaos energy.

i sighed. “you are impossible.”

kika winked. “so is pretending you’re not head over heels. just admit it, and we’ll buy you matching mugs.”

—

“And I don’t hate every girl your eyes go to.”

f1gossipgirls

284,265 likes.

f1gossipgirls : After weeks of swirling rumors, YN LN and Lando Norris have finally stepped out… just not with each other. Lando was spotted getting cozy with model Magui Corceiro, while YN was seen out with none other than Magui’s ex, footballer João Félix. Coincidence? Petty? The plot thickens.

username00 : be so for real right now. there is no way this isn’t intentional. YN OUR PETTY QUEEN.

username5 : yn really said fine you want her?? ill get with her ex

username7 : I need to achieve this level of petty bitch some day

username14 : i know alex and kika are somewhere screaming rn

liked by alexandrasaintmleux and kikagomes

username00: OH they r CREEPING

username22 : call me delulu but this could just be for pr

username15 : this is so iconic im screaming

—

yn_ln

liked by kikagomes, charles_leclerc, joaofelix79 & 4,285,257 others.

yn_ln : life lately

—

kikagomes : you are so hot come kiss me

liked by yn_ln

yn_ln : on my way!

charles_leclerc : Floki and Leo play date sometime soon? 😌

liked by yn_ln & joaofelix79

yn_ln : absolutely!

joaofelix79 : a mais linda😻

liked by yn_ln

username00 : damn she really said lando won’t commit?? hard launch

username7 : her and joao lowkey look so good together

username14 : no lando like…that is how you know he is pissed

username15: I went through 5 years of her posts and this is the only one with no Lando like

pierregasly : who is that beautiful woman you are playing chess with??

liked by yn_ln and kikagomes

yn_ln : my girlfriend :)

liked by kikagomes

pierregasly: should’ve known I’d get that response

—

“you didn’t have to post that photo,” lando said, not even looking up from his phone.

i glanced at him from across the room. “what photo?”

“the one with João. the one where he’s practically breathing on your neck.”

i rolled my eyes. “it is called posing, lando.”

“oh, so now it’s posing?” he scoffed. “looked cozy to me.”

i crossed my arms. “right…because you’d know all about looking cozy. how is magui, by the way?”

his head snapped up. “don’t bring her into this.”

i laughed, bitter. “oh, I’m sorry. was that hitting a little too close to home?”

“you are being ridiculous.”

“and you’re being possessive for someone who swears we’re just friends.”

that shut him up for a second. Then he said, quieter, “m’not possessive.”

“really?” i said, stepping toward him. “because you’re acting like I cheated on a boyfriend I don’t have.”

he stood up too, jaw tight. “maybe i wouldn’t care if you weren’t acting like you’re suddenly in love with João fucking Félix.”

i stared at him. “and maybe i wouldn’t care if you didn’t light up every time she laughs at your jokes.”

“you know what?” i muttered, grabbing my jacket. “this is dumb. you do whatever you want. do whoever you want.”

“already have been,” he snapped. “and so have you.”

i was halfway out the door when he called after me, voice softer but stubborn. “you’re the one who said we were just friends.”

i paused, turned slightly. “yeah. well. maybe that was a mistake.”

neither of us said what we really meant. the tension in the air said enough. touching.

—

“I’m not bothered looking up your exes — Matter fact we could probably be friendses.”

twitter!

f1gossipgirls : Oh? YN LN hanging out with Luisa Oliveira — Lando’s ex — in Monaco today? Did not have that on my bingo card.

username2 : guys calm down— her and luisa have stayed in touch since her and lando split. they are always interacting online

username5 : no bc if my ex and best friend were having a meeting about me id cry and never been seen again.

username7 : giving “we both survived the same man”

username10 : forget the drivers. the wags have taken over the season.

username8: yn pls drop a selfie with luisa with the caption “his taste is consistent” PLEASE

—

—

“we got the same taste that ain’t my fault”

it supposed to be a solo coffee run. no drama. no tension.

i pushed open the door to the little corner café, the bell chiming like it always did, and stepped inside—only to immediately bump into someone coming from the opposite direction.

“oh—sorry, I—” my voice caught.

lando.

he froze too, holding two takeaway cups, one already half-spilled from the impact.

“hi,” he said, blinking like he wasn’t sure i was real. “i—wow. hi.”

i swallowed hard. “hey.”

we both stood there, awkwardly, in the narrow doorway, neither moving. my heart thudded. this place — this stupid café — had been ours for so long that it felt wrong seeing him here and not being with him.

“i didn’t think you still came here,” he said, voice low. “not without me.”

“yeah,” I said quickly. “i didn’t. not really. just—craved it today.”

“guess we still have the same taste?” he said and looked down.

“and I just spilled one of yours. cool.”

i couldn’t help the small laugh that slipped out. “you always did have terrible coordination off-track.”

he gave me that sideways smirk i hated how much i missed. “says the girl who once tripped literally just over air…many times.”

“that was one time.”

“it was three.”

the silence after that wasn’t heavy like before. it felt like it always has.

“i miss this,” he said suddenly, glancing around the café, then at me. “i miss you.”

i looked at him then — really looked. the tired eyes. the nervous thumb tapping the side of the cup. the way he kept stealing glances like he was afraid i might disappear if he blinked.

“i miss you too,” i admitted.

he exhaled. like he’d been holding his breath for weeks.

“i was stupid,” he said. “about the fight. about João. about everything.”

i bit my lip. “i was too. i didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“i know,” he said. “i didn’t mean to lose you.”

A pause.

“so don’t,” i whispered.

he looked at me like the world tilted back into place. then held out one of the remaining coffees — the unspilled one. my usual.

“still how you like it?”

i nodded, smiling. “perfect.”

and for the first time in weeks, things felt right again — no explanations, no drama. just us. at our table. in our café. where it all began.

—

“if i slip and i somehow say it — you should know in advance, im wasted.”

the bass was shaking the floor. lights pulsed, the air smelled like overpriced tequila and victory, and someone — probably charles — had just climbed onto the DJ booth screaming “he finally won one!”

lando was glowing. sweaty, flushed, champagne-soaked, still in his tee with a medal crooked around his neck. everyone was celebrating like it was the first time F1 had ever seen a podium. maybe it felt like the first time. especially to me. he found me through the crowd, grinning, eyes already glassy with drunk adrenaline.

“there you are,” he said, stumbling slightly as he pulled me in with one arm. “did you see me? like actually see me?”

“hard to miss when you were standing on top of the world,” i yelled over the music.

he laughed, messy and wild, like it was pouring straight out of his chest. “could not have done it without you.”

“lando, i didn’t even—”

“you were there,” he said, serious now, crowd and noise fading behind us. “you are always there. i look for you first.”

i froze, heart stuttering. “you are drunk.”

“yup,” he said. “but not wrong.”

and before i could say anything, before i could stop him or stop myself, he leaned in and kissed me — champagne-flavored, heat-drunk and reckless.

it was a little too fast. a little too desperate. but, it felt right. like something we’d been circling for too long.

he pulled back first, eyes wide like he couldn’t believe it either. “was that—?”

“stupid,” i said quickly.

he nodded. “yeah. super stupid.”

then kissed him again.

—

lando and i barely made it into his hotel room before his hands were back on me, clinging to the zipper on the back of my dress. his lips sucking on my neck and i let out a light moan. he gently pushes me back onto the bed and crawls on top of me.

“ive wanted this for so long.” he admits before his lips brushed against mine.

“me too.” i stuttered as i felt his hands explore me.

before i knew it — we were both undressed and pressed against each other.

“you sure you’re okay with this?” he asked.

“please- lando. i want you.” i said and a smirk appeared on his face. i feel him inside of me and his lips are attached to mine again.

“i-i love you.” i muttered through my moans—not fully realizing what i said.

“i love you more. always have.” he whispered in my ear, driving me crazy.

—

my head was pounding and i could barely open my eyes but as i did i noticed lando beside me. this obviously was not rare but he was…naked. i gasped to myself and looked around the hotel room. our clothes mixed on the floor. i stared at myself in the mirror and noticed hickeys from my neck down to my mid chest. i sighed— trying to recall the events of last night.

last night.

the win. the club. the kiss. the aftermath.

his hands. my shirt on the floor. my heart in his hands.

the words — god, the words.

“i love you.”

i said it first. then he said it back. too fast, too real, too drunk.

but also… not drunk enough to lie.

i carefully untangled myself, trying not to wake him, and grabbed the nearest hoodie i could find — his, obviously — before tiptoeing into the bathroom. i was halfway through drinking water straight from the tap like a gremlin when i heard his voice, raspy and half-asleep behind me.

“you left the bed.”

i turned. “you were starfishing.”

he gave a lazy smile. “you didn’t run.”

“nope, still here. still processing.”

he nodded, rubbing his hands over his face. “same.”

“we said somethings.”

“yeah,” he said blinking at me. “we did.”

“im sorry- i don’t- know. i was drunk.”

“don’t apologize. i meant it, yn.” he said.

“so did i.” i said with a sigh of relief.

“i love you, yn.” he said and pulls me into the bed holding me.

“good because if you said you didn’t i was just gonna throw myself off the balcony from embarrassment.”

“so dramatic, even hungover.” he chuckled, kissing my head.

“consistent…and in love with my best friend apparently.”

“good to hear…I’ve been in love with you for ages.”

—

f1gossipgirls

523,377 likes.

f1gossipgirls : Lando Norris and YN LN caught getting rather steamy in the club after his most recent win.

—

username00 : the audacity to make no im not in love about him and then DO THIS

username2 : well this is one way to make up with your friend after a fight

username5 : me pretending I’m happy for them when really I’m pacing my room like a victorian widow

username7 : You KNOW Lily and Kika are already planning the wedding. Alexandra’s making the guest list. Soft launch era is over.

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, kikagomes, lilymhe

username8 : CAUGHT CREEPING AGAIN

username14 : I don’t care about the driving anymore— need a whole season of this

—

yn_ln

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, lando, carlossainz55 & 7,205,210 others.

yn_ln : okay I lied im in love with my best friend but stream no im not in love about your situationships!!!

—

username7 : girlie we been knew

alexandrasaintmleux: never tell me im wrong ever again— but im so happy for you bb!

liked by author

lilymhe : good thing I started planning the wedding like 3 years ago

liked by author

kikagomes : lost my wife 😭😭

liked by author

yn_ln : you still have me mamas

lando : ive loved you since i first laid eyes on you

liked by author

charles_leclerc : I catch a stray for being nosey when you literally LIED

liked by author

yn_ln : haha sorry charlie…😀

—

lando

liked by yn_ln, maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri & 2,373,289 others.

lando : she loves me so much she made a song to convince the world she didn’t 😎

—

oscarpiastri : good im tired of seeing you mope around the paddock

liked by yn_ln

lando : now you get to watch me smooch yn all the time

oscarpiastri : goodie

maxfewtrell : took you both long enough

liked by yn_ln and lando

carlossainz55 : im glad you both remembered the next morning bc I couldn’t break it to you if you didn’t

liked by yn_ln and lando

—

🐞💐🌺🦋☀️🌷🌞🌟💫🌻⚡️

[masterkirby]

This sure brings back memories (bad ones). I was older than 13, straight out of high school, and was approached at university, and some time later started a romantic and (bad memories bad memories) sexual relationship with a six years older guy (not to be an ageist but kinda sus given I was freshly 18 at the time), who called himself an Objectivist. So of course his objective became to groom me into an Objectivist.

How to say this, hmm. Before university I was a normie, and there isn't much care for teaching philosophy to kids where I live. I think people still believed the bible is moral education enough when I was growing up. Honestly, now it's hard to go back and understand what I did with my days living in such a void, no inspiration, no brilliant ideas to make me giddy... I was depressed and empty, honestly.

Anyway, socialism, leftism, was always condemned in school as the evil that oppressed our region, and I'm not sure I've heard of feminism before uni, and only read a few "good", meaning actually well-written and sits-with-me-for-life books in late highschool. So I started reading about this Objectivism and I liked how the idea was to bring common ethics out of the fact that all humans, regardless of culture, stem from the human body and how we all have bodies... You know, "objectively" (idk, it was Rand's essays I think, just "On Objectivism"). And then a kind of aggrandisement of being self aware, of believing in your capabilities, making use of them; and a lot about freedom. I needed that as a lost kid/young adult. There was also an idea of, hmm, spontaneous order out of chaos that also sat well with me (too bad it was used to back the "free" market)

But anyway, then the Objectivist guy, happy that I read the essay and reacted enthusiastically, thought I was ready for the novels. Oh boy, oh boy. And oh damn, he was dedicated to that shit and, from what I heard recently, still is, almost ten years later.

So he looked absolutely devastated/pissed when I started critiquing the book. I was studying English studies, so I read a fair share of well-written stuff by the second year of studies and Atlas Shrugged just didn't compare, and the characters were just so one dimensional... Or did he give me Fountainhead to read earlier? Anyway, this made me further confused, as to why even criticizing the writing is bad, I wasn't even criticizing the core ideas. Which I soon started criticizing. Long story short, I finally wrote him off as a fanatic (and sexual abuser, though that got through to me years later) and arrived at Contrapoints and Chomsky, and feminism, for aftercare.

Alright. So. I have a confession to share with you. In middle school, I strongly identified as a libertarian. In my defense, I was 13 and I had autism. Against my defense, I was literate, and capable of using common sense. I confessed this to you willingly, so go easy on me.

One thing about this that I can share with you is that I, as a 13 year old boy, read Atlas Shrugged. I read it as someone very committed to the ideology, who wanted to believe it, who wanted to like it, and there are two things I can share with you about that book from that time period.

The writing is terrible. It has the slowest, most boring, most pretentious prose you could possibly imagine. Calling it glacial would be a compliment. It makes glaciers look like Formula 1. There is no description for the pacing outside of hellish torments. It is like being condemned to watch a dog with an itchy ass wear the Himmalayas away only by scooching. It is like counting the grains of sand on a beach while Alexa reads off random phone numbers. It is like dipping saltines into lukewarm tapwater while listening to white noise in a beige room with no doors. It is like wearing a blindfold and being told to guess what a man is painting by sound alone, but there is no man, there is only a dog licking cold vaseline off a window. Forever. It is all of those things and more.

There is a multipage rant about how affairs are Good and Rational that is so insanely desparate that even middle-school-autist me thought she must have been having an affair while she wrote this. And then I googled it, and the answer was yes, she was. She called her philosophy Objectivism, because she believed, like everyone else in the world, that her ideas and motivations were Pure and Rational and Ojectively Correct, but I still find the name accurate, because it was really written with one Objective in mind, and that was finding a way to never admit that Ayn Rand had ever made a mistake in her life.

I was going to rant more about this but I kind of lost my train of thought. The book fucking sucks. It was propaganda of such remarkably low caliber that it actually helped me move out of those circles. Every time someone talked about liking the book, I'd reply with something along the lines of "Yeah, I especially loved the part where she destroyed the post modernists by unequivocally condemning affairs", and if they agreed with me, they would have lost my respect forever, and if they looked very embarrassed, I could at least acknowledge that they had a soul, albeit small and malformed. I had dozens of people claim that they read the book, and only three or four actually passed the test.

And now, goodnight.

[witchywithwhiskey]

ok so i'm still thinking about the concept of ✨sugar daddy dr. jack abbot✨ but i had some thots (maybe i'll write something longer idk we'll see) 18+ content ahead!

sugar daddy dr. jack abbot who pays you extremely well to always be available for when he calls—and he always calls at weird times of the night. you don't mind so much, though, because you're a night owl, and he pays you well enough.

sugar daddy dr. jack abbot who calls you to come to the hospital sometimes, then sneaks you into a supply closet or an empty room and bangs you against the wall. your hands pressed up against some shelves or the wall, his arm wrapped around the front of your throat, holding you in place while he takes out all his frustration from the night on your tight hole. and all you can do is make soft little 'uh uh uh' noises while he hisses furious, filthy words in your ear.

sugar daddy dr. jack abbot who calls you when he needs help winding down from a tough night shift. he sits on his couch, the police scanner crackling softly in the corner, while you kneel between his spread thighs, taking your sweet time worshipping his cock. nuzzling his bulge through his pants, pressing soft kisses along the growing shaft before taking him out. then you lavish him with your tongue, tracing the veins and swirling around the tip, trailing back down to suck on his balls. by the time you finally take him in your mouth and work his length as deep as you can take him, jack's shoulders are relaxed and his head is reclined against the back of the couch. he lays a heavy, comforting hand to the crown of your head and guides you to the speed he likes most.

sugar daddy dr. jack abbot who likes seeing you in pretty pinks, soft purples and pastel blues. so much of his life has been spent in a monotony of earthen camouflage and drab, solid-colored scrubs that he likes seeing you in floral dresses and other pretty clothes, your makeup done to highlight your beautiful face and bright eyes. if he had his way, you'd be clad in nothing but lace and flowers and ribbons—all the prettiest things on the prettiest girl, and all for him.

sugar daddy dr. jack abbot who doesn't like to go shopping, but he'll take you if you ask (so you don't ask him too often). but he wants to see every single thing you try on. he'll sit in the dressing room, thick arms crossed over his broad chest, his eyes devouring your body while you parade around in pretty dresses with flirty skirts, giving a twirl and teasing him with a sneak peek of your panties. he'll be patient, taking you to all the stores you want, but when he gets you home, he's bending you over the nearest available surface before you can do more than drop all the bags full of all the clothes he bought you, sliding inside you and making you cry out, "thank you, dr. abbot!" until he's satisfied.

sugar daddy dr. jack abbot who loves eating you out so much, he'll do it for hours. at first, your body would writhe and squirm beneath his strong, calloused hands, fighting the pleasure he offered with his lips and his tongue. he'd pin you to the bed, devouring your cunt like a starved man, wringing one orgasm after another out of you, until you're a limp, sated mess. but he wouldn't stop. when you'd reach for him, weakly trying to push him away, he'd lace his fingers with yours, holding your hands hostage while he kept right on eating you, a glint in his brown eyes and a raspy, "c'mon, baby, you can give me another, can't you?" murmured from between your thighs. you'd huff and whine, your fingers twisting in his curly silver hair when he freed your hand to plunge two fingers into your dripping pussy. he'd pull at least another orgasm from you, making you come until your legs are shaking and you're sobbing your pleasure for him.

sugar daddy dr. jack abbot who isn't the type to buy you flashy gifts, or take you on exotic vacations, but he takes care of you in other ways. he buys you a new phone or laptop when you complain about yours acting up. he keeps his home stocked with all your favorite snacks and drinks, and he'll cook for you when you don't want to—though he likes having you sit on the counter while he does, because he wants you close. he's slowly filled his home with more blankets and throw pillows, because he's noticed that you like to snuggle and be comfortable, and he wants you to be comfortable when you're with him.

sugar daddy dr. jack abbot who has a bit of a breeding kink, and gets off on the idea of knocking you up—even if he'd never, ever do that without your permission or while your relationship is what it is. but he loves fucking you raw, pressing his cock deep inside you, until the tip is right against your cervix and spilling his seed into your womb, a part of him desperately wishing it would take. he'd murmur in your ear about making you a mommy, how he'd take care of you while your belly grew with his child and how he'd be the best damn daddy a kid could ever have. it would be enough for you to start thinking there could be more between you and your sugar daddy...

sugar daddy dr. jack abbot who takes you as his date to the hospital's annual fundraiser. all the doctors and nurses get dolled up, bring their partners, and have to make nice with donors at the behest of Gloria. Jack doesn't mind it too much, he's happy enough to talk about his background as an army medic, and the ways the donors' money could help the hospital, particularly the ER. but he finds it so much more enjoyable with you on his arm, looking prettier than he's ever seen you, charming his colleagues and the donors with kind smiles and friendly chatter. all night, Jack gets ribbed by the others, asking him when he's going to put a ring on your finger and wife you up. and when the comments make you laugh, shooting him teasing, secret smiles, instead of making you uncomfortable, he starts to think maybe he should do something about making your relationship more permanent...

[bluebellles]

“I’ve been looking at you so long, now I only see me”

little habits you and the LADS boys pick up from each other as a couple

genre: sfw, fluff

cw: rafmc emotionally abusing thomas, grandpa behavior from sylus, whatever tf caleb has going on (par for the course), zayne’s a mealprepper i think that’s canon, i wrote sylus’s first and it actually inspired the series but it ended up being shorter than the others, idk i was satisfied with it so i dont wanna add anything though, threw in a tiny bit of angst in caleb’s (tiny) what can i say i learned from infold

Gossip

You had turned your boyfriend into an absolute menace.

It wasn’t on purpose, really. It had started innocently enough when the two of you had gone out for your usual Thursday night hotpot (much different from your Saturday night hotpot and Tuesday night hotpot if anyone cared to ask). 

The couple two tables down from you began arguing over the man’s Instagram likes and you had, like anyone in your situation would, instantly stopped speaking to overhear their conversation.

Xavier noticed your change in demeanor immediately, swallowing his bite of meat and leaning closer to you in concern.

“Why are you so quiet?” he frowned, glancing down at your bowl, “Are the mushrooms overcooked? I followed the instructions on the sheet…”

He had reluctantly stopped experimenting with the cooking times at your vehement, repeated request.

The silver haired man blinked in surprise when you simply pressed a finger to his lips but made no move to stop you. You tilted your head to the couple who was now scrolling through the man’s entire feed while he shook a ladle at her animatedly.

His eyes tracked your movement and landed on the couple in confusion. Why were you so concerned? Were they bothering you? Did you need him to get them to leave so you could go back to eating hotpot in peace?

As if sensing his intentions, you shook your head and pointed to your ear. He took the cue to listen in, growing more and more interested as the argument escalated. Why did he care? He wasn’t sure, but suddenly listening in on the man’s insistence that he was just supporting young women was even more interesting than his sliced pork.

The pair of you stayed quiet until the couple stormed out of the restaurant after slamming down a stack of bills on the table as if they were in a K-Drama. 

“...She should dump him,” he speaks simply, picking his spoon back up without further ado.

“I’m saying,” you agreed, sipping your drink, “She is way too pretty for him anyways.”

You hadn’t thought much of the moment at the time, but apparently you had sparked a new interest for your normally docile boyfriend. Suddenly he was a man on a mission and he had become very dutiful in his reports to you during your evening debriefs (cuddling on the couch). 

The woman who lived in the apartment below you was illegally subletting to her grandson, as witnessed during a trip to the P.O. boxes in the lobby.

That’s not really news. I hear him screaming at his PC at three a.m. every day.

The teenage boy who had sat next to him on the train was running an illegal essay-forgery ring and seemed to be making a decent profit, as overheard when he was pretending to be asleep.

In this economy? Good for him.

Tara and Jenna were holding hands under the table during the morning meeting.

This one actually made you gasp in excitement, and your boyfriend was smug with pride as you slapped your hands against his chest repeatedly and demanded more details.

For better or for worse, you had created a bit of a gossip monster out of your boyfriend. Thursday night hotpot (slightly less sacred than Saturday night hotpot and more populated than Tuesday night hotpot) was now dedicated to eavesdropping on the surrounding tables. You could only be grateful he was no longer focused on experimenting with the broth.

Vocal Stims

Your boyfriend lets out a deep sigh, lackadaisically kicking his feet up onto the coffee table in Thomas’s office as he mindlessly twirls a pen between his fingers. You sit beside him, steadfastly ignoring his antics as you focus on completing a report from your last mission. As usual, Rafayel had dragged you along to a meeting with his art manager to ‘protect him from potential threats’, the most prevalent of which was boredom. 

You usually tried your best to be polite and well behaved to supplement your other half’s determination to make a general nuisance of himself in the unfounded hopes of getting Thomas to agree to meet less frequently. 

“Is this guy seriously so inept that he needs someone to hold his hand through the process of buying an art piece?” Rafayel scoffed at his manager’s attempts to get him to meet with a potential client personally, “Either he likes the piece or he doesn’t. What’s so difficult to comprehend? Is he stupid? I don’t want stupid people buying my artwork Thomas.” 

“He’s the sole founder of a multibillion dollar tech company,” Thomas lets out a long-suffering sigh.

“Do they specialize in making technology for idiots?” He looks over at you expectantly. You solemnly shake your head. He’s in rare form today, crabby from his interrupted bathtub time (two hours instead of four). That wasn’t even worth a fake chuckle. He pouts, looking away from you again.

“Some clients just like to know what kind of artist they're supporting before giving them their money,” Thomas explained as if this was a new concept, “I mean, some people love the whole flighty, elusive artist thing you have going on but to be honest, Rafayel, you can be a tough nut to swallow.”

The room immediately falls into complete silence. You pause your rhythmic typing. The pen falls from Rafayel’s hand. Thomas’s face fills with dread.

Completely stone-faced, you and your boyfriend stare at each other before slowly turning your heads to face the panicking art manager. From his perspective you are no different from two sharks circling their prey.

“Thomas…,” Rafayel starts, with absolutely no emotion in his voice.

“...what?” you finish his sentence in the same tone.

“I meant- I got confused between ‘tough nut to crack’ and ‘bitter pill to swallow’,” he mumbles with no small amount of horror, “It was an honest mistake! Anyone could make it after talking in circles like this for hours!”

Your shoulders are now shaking as you fight to keep the sinister delight off your face.

“Please don’t,” Thomas turns to you in his desperation, already knowing his most problematic artist is a lost cause.

“Should I be worried, Thomas?” you offer him no reprieve.

Beside you, your boyfriend tilts his head back and cackles like some kind of ancient sea witch as his poor manager puts his head in his hands and groans.

After that day, you and Rafayel terrorize everyone you cross paths with for weeks with the phrase. Mainly Thomas, but also the poor old lady who runs your favorite fish market, the seagulls down by Rafayel’s preferred outcropping of rocks, whoever has the misfortune of sitting next to the two of you on the train into town. Nobody is safe from your tyranny. 

Next month, it might be a random quote from a TikTok or a random tourist’s mispronunciation of the word ‘anemone’. Whatever the case may be, the world will always fall victim to your mutual vocal stims.

Trash TV Shows

“Two days off a week and you choose to spend one of them staring at a screen for hours on end,” your ever-logical boyfriend cannot resist making the comment as he sips from his mug superiorly. 

“If you hate me and wish I was dead just say that,” you brush him off as you point the remote at his giant flat-screen and try to pick something to watch.

“Oh, is that what I said?” he hums noncommittally, reaching over to steady your bowl of popcorn as it teeters dangerously on the couch next to you.

“It basically is, in summation,” you insist, nodding your head emphatically, “God forbid women have hobbies! Why do you even have this giant TV if you never use it anyways?”

“Knitting is a hobby. Watching reality television is a surefire way to ensure early cognitive decline. And I use it to review past surgeries and study recordings of new techniques in the field.”

You groan dramatically, kicking a slipper-covered foot halfheartedly in his direction. He catches it with his usual barely-there grin that crinkles the corners of his hazel eyes softly. 

“Fine then, I won’t watch reality TV,” you scroll to find Grey’s Anatomy and begin loading up your favorite episode, “This isn’t trash. This is art.”

“It’s medical malpractice and constant HIPAA violations, actually,” he counters, adjusting the cuff of your sweatpants from where they had rolled up on your right leg.

“Objectively that may be true but I don’t really want to hear about HIPAA violations from you.”

Zayne eventually relents with his teasing and leaves you to veg out after a grueling workweek. As much as he may pretend to protest, he would never genuinely diminish anything that helped you relax. Instead, he made himself busy meal-prepping his usual health-over-flavor lunches in the kitchen and contented himself to admire your blissed out form from the archway that separated him from the living room.

Against his will, however, his attention kept drifting to the dramatic antics taking place on the screen in front of you. 

“That is an exorbitant dosage for the patient’s age and weight,” he couldn't help himself from interjecting with a displeased frown, “and why would so many doctors respond to the same distress call. Are they overstaffed?”

It’s his fourth comment this episode alone. 

“Just come sit next to me if you’re already watching,” you giggle at his genuine offense over the inaccuracies.

“I’m not watching,” he insists, but abandons the rice cooker and sinks down next to you without taking his eyes off the screen.

You happily snuggle into his side, pleased to bask in the comfort of your boyfriend’s arms as they wrap around you with a gentle kiss placed to your forehead. The silence lasts for approximately three minutes and sixteen seconds.

“...Why would he sleep with her when he knows she is going through a hard time and then walk around like a kicked puppy? He should be more worried about his inadequate suturing technique, if anything.”

“Right???”

Selfies

You should never have taken a selfie with Sylus. And not just because he mogged you.

He had looked at you with his version of startled confusion (a slightly higher than usual raise of his right eyebrow) when you first brought out your phone and leaned in close with a cheesy smile on your face. 

Even in the first few shots, where he looked stiff and awkward as he tried to deduce your intentions, he looked like a marble statue of an ancient god brought to life. Once he settled into himself and leaned a little closer into you with that barely-there smile and gentle eyes he only reserved for your moments together, it was completely over for you.

Which was fine. You could be humble enough to acknowledge that bad angles simply did not exist for Sylus. That and the pleased "send that to me" he had rumbled into your ear as you scrolled through the pictures for him made it worth it.

It wasn't until later you realized you had unleashed an absolute menace on the world. Not even in the usual hellfire and brimstone related way.

Pre night-out? Lean a little closer to the camera, sweetie. Post night-out? Smile first, then he'll pick you up and carry you home princess-style to protect your aching feet. 

In the middle of scarfing down some pizza after a particularly grueling protocore hunt that left your hair in disarray and your eyeliner smudged almost completely off? Just look up for one second, kitten.

His camera roll had to be nearly completely full of the most random, innocuous moments of the two of you together. You once sarcastically commented that he'd have to get a new phone just for pictures soon. He genuinely considered it. 

He could now often be found mid-illegal arms deal nonchalantly scrolling through his camera roll, letting out a small rich person chuckle at a photo of you yelling at him for whipping out his phone in the middle of a shoot-out while he made sure the camera got his good side. 

It was a hoard he considered more precious than the stacks of gold bars overflowing from his cellar or the offshore bank accounts he kept his real estate funds in. For all the qualms he had about this new century, he could at least say he was grateful for this new way of collecting treasures.

Literally everything, if he had his way.

It wasn’t an anomalous occurrence for you and Caleb to subconsciously mimic each other’s habits. An entire lifetime together and your boyfriend’s inclination to fuse himself to you any time he has the opportunity practically ensured some overlap.

His high school basketball teammates thought he must be the only person in the world who used the term “hedgehogging” instead of “jogging” during practice before learning the story of how you misused the word when you were kids.

Your university roommate had a similar reaction to you referring to your mini fridge as “steelless stain” instead of “stainless steel”, an embarrassing blunder you had picked up from Caleb after he got his (first) concussion.

Perhaps the most humiliating had been when Caleb had been flipping through a manual in the pilot academy mess hall next to Gideon as his friend scarfed down a sandwich. He had made a noise of disgust after biting down on a wilted piece of lettuce and, without flinching or looking up, Caleb had stuck his hand underneath the other man’s chin as if to catch the food if he spit it out. 

“...Force of habit,” he spoke gravely as he slowly pulled his hand away.

“Uh-huh.”

Over the years, much to his delight, it was often difficult for outside observers to discern where one of you ended and the other began. The problem only intensified when you actually started dating.

Shared inside jokes that no longer even required vocal cues for you both to start snickering in the middle of the grocery store when you see a ‘buy one get one free’ sign on the chicken wings. Your tendency to simply hold your arms above your head when you get sick of your sweater, knowing he’ll be there to tug it off for you. The automatic sorting of bags of candy into two piles: your favorite flavors and the flavors-you-don’t-like-as-much for your dedicated boyfriend.

Being around Caleb had always felt like creating your own unique language that only the two of you could comprehend. 

You had never really known what being alone really meant until those long, grueling months when you were the only one left in the world who spoke it.

The thought settled uncomfortably in your chest, prompting you to stretch your hand out across the divider that separated you from your boyfriend who was currently driving you both to the pier for a casual Friday night date. 

Without even looking, Caleb moved his free hand from your thigh to intertwine with your own. His thumb tapped a steady rhythm against you, spelling out the beat of your shared favorite song. It wasn’t even playing on the radio. Just another quiet little affirmation of the two of you.

[zeropro]

hi I really love your art I just wanna eat it and consume its knowledge but that’s kinda impossible so I wanted to ask a bit about your process? How do you pick your colors? I really like your color palettes :))

Aw heck thank you!

Here are my color swatches since you asked:

I can go over what I remember of my thought process when picking these colors.

Lets start with Starscream since I really wasnt drawing anyone else back then. I know some of the toys has him as more of a grey mech but I always saw his body as white, but even then I didnt want it to be a pure white. I decided silver would be a good compromise, and to me silver is a light grey with more of a cool tone to it, which meant the grey of his helm and faceplate had to also be more cool toned to match. I also didnt want his helm to be too dark even tho I think it’s supposed to be black? It’s just better for readability, I use that helm color for anything that should be dark grey to black, like car tires. I gave his face a darker grey than the body since Starscream has a darker face than Thundercracker and Skywarp in the cartoon.

From there I think I just tried out different reds until I found one I liked, a bit of trial and error. I might have made it slightly muted cuz it felt less heroic? I don’t really know haha. I just know when I picked a red for the Autobots I made it more saturated. I also don’t know why I chose that particular shade of blue, since I think Starscream’s arms are usually a lighter blue? Must have just decided it worked best with the red, or maybe the reference I was using just happened to be darker.

His eyes (and the eyes of pretty much all cold constructed bots) are pure saturated red.

And then I decided all cybertronians would have blue tongues since their blood is blue.

When I started drawing other seekers I decided they should all have the same faceplate and helm color. The only exception is sunstorm, who I decided to give a warmer toned grey for his helm and faceplate. I think it makes him look out of place among the seekers, which is the point

Thundercracker just straight up shares his color pallet with Starscream, but Skywarp needed his own swatch since neither of them had purple in their designs besides the decepticon logo, and I wanted skywarp’s purple to be different from the purple used in the decepticon logo.

For the longest time my color swatches were just Starscream’s colors plus a purple for Skywarp. Ive been slowly adding colors as the need arises. I prefer reusing swatches over color picking new colors every time, like how Sunstorm and Bumblebee share the same color Yellow. That said, I’m also stingy about adding swatches too XD usually I wont add a color to the pallet until the third or fourth time I have to pull up an old comic to eyedropper from. not sure why I havent added swatches for rumble yet tbh

idk if any of that was interesting or made sense, but thanks for asking XD

[leclercsluvs]

CL16 | Starting Line | smau

masterlist

an: so... this has been in the works for an eternity, which you can tell by the timestamps in the first texts... i lowkey forgot about it. it's been a little over a year since this idea started in my head, then i did something a month after i got the idea and then i forgot about it for almost a year. sorry about that. I made this draft on april 23rd last year... fc: maddie ziegler pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader, dancer!reader warnings: swearing, kinda fast paced (idk if that's supposed to be a warning, but now you know)

yourusername

liked by yoursister, yourbff & 3.720 others yourusername been an eventful week lol

view all comments

yourbff i didn't even get photo creds? i'm hurt.

yourusername sorry, the caption was too long :) yourbff bullshit, but alright

user1 the effortless leg hold? okay queen, get it. ❤️ by author

user2 she's got a vibe. i like it.

yoursister how come i was not invited?

yourusername you're my sister. you're never invited <3 yoursister rude >:( yourusername hehe :)

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, lando & 2.592.641 others charles_leclerc so i may or may not have gotten a puppy.

view all comments

carlossainz55 you got a puppy?

charles_leclerc i got a puppy. carlossainz55 oh wow.

user3 charles getting a puppy is like my fav thing??

user4 same! like why is that so cute?

user5 okay but who's going to take care of it on race weekends?

user6 it's not like he can't travel with a puppy, and he could probably bribe arthur into taking care of it occasionally. user5 okay fair point. arthur_leclerc why do you have to bring me into this?

lando you better bring it. i wanna meet it.

charles_leclerc oh i'm bringing it. oscarpiastri i better get to meet it too! yourusername wait i wanna meet it too!

charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri & 3.345.690 others charles_leclerc so... turns out he likes to bite my nose?

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lando does that mean he likes me better?

carlossainz55 no me. oscarpiastri no me. pierregasly no me. charles_leclerc no none of you.

user7 i think that's the cutest dog i've ever seen

user8 i think that's the cutest human i've ever seen. yourusername very right about that

yourusername

liked by yourbff, charles_leclerc & 2.473 others yourusername i did a thing... 📷: yourbff

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yourbff at least i was invited this time.

yoursister i feel betrayed.

yourusername i'm not rich. i couldn't afford THREE tickets. charles_leclerc just ask ;)

user8 did anyone see charles' comment before it was deleted? 🤨

user9 i think you're delusional.

user10 wish it was me 😞💔 ❤️ by author

⤷ charles_leclerc for me? 🙃 yourusername maybe 🤭

⤷ yourbff girl... yourusername i can't help it... yourbff i'm ready to sacrifice my soul to help you. yourusername please don't 😭

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, alex_albon & 3.006.075 others charles_leclerc i did a thing...

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lando yo what.

carlossainz55 and you didn't even tell me?

pierregasly i would like to inform everyone, i knew.

charles_leclerc bullshit. pierregasly why did you ruin my fun? do you hate me?

user11 oh wow

user12 she looks pretty, from the back.

user13 i'm sure she's just with him for the money and fame.

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbff & 4.293 others yourusername i did a thing.

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yourbff babe....

yourusername what? yourbff you used the same photo.. yourusername oh.

user14 OMG THE MATCHING CAPTIONS

user15 this is the cutest thing ever 🥹

charles_leclerc well i guess it's not much of a secret anymore

[moonstruckme]

i mean if you INSISTTTTT….can we see intern reader trying to be flirty back with spence. or like them hanging out/doing something together maybe outside of work, the rest of the team can be there or not idk i just love them and your writing so much hehehe

Thanks for your request angel <3

cw: football concussion statistics? idk not trying to piss off any diehard nfl fans. oh also american football being referred to simply as football because I'm also not trying to piss off the rest of the world, and lastly some borderline HR violations

Spencer Reid x intern!reader ♡ 1k words

“Alright, Jack!” Prentiss claps, before sticking her fingers into her mouth and letting loose a piercing whistle that makes both you and Garcia flinch in surprise. 

“Way to make the extra pass, kid!” Morgan shouts across the field. 

On the other side of the grass, Hotch nods like he seconds this, though his expression stays focussed and his eyes on his players. 

“He’s getting really good,” JJ says. 

Next to you, Garcia grimaces. “I wish he’d be good at something else.” 

“Beautiful,” Morgan chides, “don’t crush the kid’s dreams.” 

“He’s just a sweet summer child! There are, like, a crazy amount of concussions in football. I’m just looking out for him.” 

“In recent years, the NFL has reported a significant decline in concussions in professional football players,” says Spencer. 

Morgan makes a smug noise. “See? He’ll be alright.”

“But,” you raise your voice hesitantly, “wouldn’t the NFL have a bit of incentive to report that?” 

You’re looking at Spencer out of the corner of your eye. He meets your gaze, lips quirking. 

“Exactly,” he says. “That’s what I think, too. Independent studies have been less favorable.” 

Garcia mimics Morgan’s smug noise, victorious. Before she remembers to be worried and frowns again. 

Morgan laughs. “Hey, I didn’t sign him up. Jack likes football, you gonna tell him to quit?” 

Garcia comes back at him with some teasing remark, but you’re distracted by Spencer’s eyes still on yours. He’s looking at you like there’s something he can’t quite make sense of, which is happening so often lately it’s almost laughable. You have the most obvious crush in the world, and certifiable genius Spencer Reid can’t figure you out. 

You look away first. 

It’s sort of humiliating, how things have escalated between you in the last week. Every bit of that is your fault. You know it’s not professional, but you’ve spent lots of time thinking about it, and really a bit of flirting isn’t so bad if you know nothing is going to come of it. It’s harmless. Spencer is just so, so nice to you, you can’t help but want to be nice back; walking the line between friendly and something-else sort of comes with the territory. You would never actually endanger your position at the BAU. You only want Spencer to feel as special as he makes you feel. He deserves that. 

First it was bringing him breakfast after he helped you prepare your testimony. You wanted to thank him, so you picked up some breakfast tacos like he said he used to have back home in Las Vegas, and so what if you only know that because you’ve spent so much time chatting together? You’re training to be a profiler, remembering details is part of your job. Then you started complimenting him more, which was really just giving yourself permission to say your quiet thoughts out loud, making genuine observations about his taste in psychologists and the care he shows for witnesses even when the whole team is in a rush. And then maybe you began letting him teach you some things about chess even though you’ve never been interested in the game before, and bumping his knee gently under the table when he’s rambling without realizing everyone else has already moved on, and exchanging little smiles when you both look up from your desks at the same time. So what? None of that is a fireable offence. 

“I’m gonna go get water,” Spencer says, standing and starting to descend the metal bleachers. 

“Can you grab me one?” Prentiss asks. The rest of your team immediately chimes in with their requests, and you take a step down from the bleachers as well. 

“Want help?” you ask. 

Spencer seems to have been picturing the same thing you have: him coming back from the cooler in Garcia’s trunk with arms overflowing with plastic bottles, leaving a trail of them all the way back to the bleachers. He looks relieved. “Please.” 

You hop down, unable to look him in the eye when you take the hand he offers you for the last couple of steps. The sun is out in full force today, glinting off the metal of the bleachers and every car in the parking lot. The pavement radiates heat. 

Spencer hovers a hand above his eyes. “I wasn’t made for this.” 

“It’s a hot one,” you agree. 

“If Jack had a different hobby, we could be inside at a science fair right now. With air conditioning.” 

You chance a look at him. “Isn’t being involved in sports good for kids?” 

Spencer shrugs, though you’re sure he knows the answer. “I turned out okay.” 

Your lips tug. There’s no denying that. 

“Here.” You take off the baseball cap you’d put on for the game, holding it out for him as he pops open Garcia’s trunk. You pray to God the hat isn’t sweaty. 

Spencer only looks at it, surprised. “Oh, I—that’s okay. I’ll be fine.” 

“No, look.” You take a pair of sunglasses out of your bag, putting them on. “See? Now neither of us will have the sun in our eyes.” 

“Really?” Spencer asks, only taking the bill of the cap in hand once you nod. He settles it on his head like it’s his first time wearing one. “Thanks. Do I look stupid?” 

You shake your head, staring. “You look good,” you say. It comes out unchecked, before you can think about it. God, you’re so obvious. It’s true, though. Spencer’s still squinting a little even with the shade over his eyes, but it’s relaxed some; it reminds you of the way he looks when he’s puzzling something out. You’re hopelessly endeared by it. His hair, grown to what Garcia lovingly calls boy band length, wings out of the sides of the cap. Practically begging to be coiled around your index finger. 

“Thanks,” Spencer says again, the faintest tinge of pink—which can probably be attributed to the beginnings of a sunburn—kissing his cheeks. 

Bashfulness softens your voice. “No problem.” 

He opens the cooler, starting to scoop up waters and sports drinks (though one of the team moms is supplying drinks for the kids, Garcia had packed for you all like you’d be on the field too). Condensation drips down Spencer’s wrists. 

“Thanks for helping with this, too,” he says. 

“Pretty sure this is what interns are for,” you joke as you grab some too. 

“Always undermining yourself,” Spencer chides, something almost like teasing in his voice. It makes your stomach crowd with butterflies. “You know you’re more than that to us.”

[miaoua3]

Is this where we request? I’m still new to this app lol. Pero may I request a smut Minghao? The smuttier the better. Surprise me with any story line ^_^ I trust your writing hehe

yes this is where you request it😭 and its all good, happy to have received your request! and ofc you can, hope you like this!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Keep Quiet.

•Pairing: bf! minghao x f!reader

•Genre: shameless smut (MDNI), fingering, voyeurism, unprotected sex, dirty talking, angry sex, minimal foreplay, slight degradation, bathroom sex, quick fuck, spit…play? idk i def mentioned the word waaay too often in such a short story lmao, slight angst (well, maybe even more than slight angst)

•Description: one minor fight with your boyfriend has you acting like he doesn’t exist, ignoring him to your best efforts, despite you two being out in public with your friends. minghao knows a great way to make you pay attention to him again.

•Notes: writing this before i even wrote the story and i can already tell it’s gonna be a banger lmao (post writing update: i made it angsty🧍‍♀️ffs i hate whenever im on my period and get all emotional)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

you nod your head in fake cheerfulness to whatever seungkwan was saying to you, trying your hardest not to let it show that your boyfriend has his hand in your panties and his fingers almost inside your pussy right underneath the table.

it was so stupid, the whole thing-the fight, the words you both said in the heat of anger, the purposeful ignoring on your behalf, and finally the fingering under the table while all of your members are sat there on his behalf.

now that you try to think about it, the details about the whole thing seem to be gone from your head. but that just might be because minghao literally has his fingers inside you.

thankfully, everyone redirects their conversations, leaving you and hao alone for a minute. immediately grabbing his hand, you grit through your teeth in warning.

“take. your hand. out. of my underwear. now.”

minghao just leans in closer to you before he hotly whispers right into your ear “maybe if you weren’t such a little brat earlier, i wouldn’t have to have my hand inside your needy cunt to get your attention.”

you finally look him directly in the eyes for the first time since this morning, eyes burning with fire. if the fire is from anger or from neediness? who knows.

hao smirks at you, but not the kind that you find hot and sexy-the kind that is cocky, the kind that is indirectly telling you “i won”, the kind that is so condescending and outright insulting to your ego.

his fingers spread your folds open, the contact with the cold air making shivers appear all over your skin. his middle finger then gently runs up and down your entrance, your precum already gathering on the tip of his finger simply with that one move. he then uses the same finger to ever so lightly flick your clit, and it feels so good that you have to bite your lip to keep yourself quiet.

hao’s voice distracts you for a moment, his warm breath hitting the shell of your ear as he hotly whispers “if you hate it so much, and if you want me to stop, why are you so wet? hm? why is your slutty little pussy so wet from one little touch? don’t tell me-“ he stops in the name of mockingly chuckling before he continues, “don’t tell me you are into this? getting discovered by them, letting them see just what a slut you are-letting me finger you under the table. poor seungkwan-he probably didn’t even realise that you didn’t pay attention to anything he said, too distracted by being a little whore for my fingers.”

nervously looking around the table, you confirm that no one is paying attention to you two. still, the whole thing makes you feel nervous. as hot as this feels somewhere in the back of your fucked up mind, the idea of you two getting discovered makes you panic and it cuts your enjoyment in half.

almost like he can sense that he’s slowly losing you to your anxieties, he orders you in his deep voice.

“bathroom. now. wait for me there.”

you didn’t have to be told twice.

after a few minutes of nervously walking around the bathroom, you finally hear the door open and close quickly, hao’s expert fingers quickly locking the door, all while his eyes are solely focused on you.

in two big strides, you two meet each other half way, immediately kissing each other messily. you feel his saliva get all over your lips and chin, hands groping your body all over-from squeezing your neck, to squeezing and spanking your ass so hard under the skirt of your dress, you almost end up screaming.

before you know it, he’s quickly walking you towards the sink, hands quickly turning you around before bending you over the cold marble. you gasp at how quickly it all happens, hands slamming against the mirror.

you stare at the reflection, your fucked out face staring right back at you, lips still wet from his kisses, eyes hazy. behind you, you see minghao staring right back at you, hands working on quickly unzipping his pants.

as he’s taking his cock out of his pants, he angrily asks “you don’t want to pay attention to me?” before he’s quickly slamming inside your pussy, the quick movement making your walls burn at the sudden stretch. you moan through a gasp, watching as he bends over as well, his chest coming in contact with your back as he wraps a skill-full hand around your neck.

staring at your eyes through the mirror, he orders you “then don’t. only look at yourself.” before he starts basically hammering his hips into your own.

the pace he sets from the start has you seeing stars, you own eyes focusing on your reflexion in the mirror per his order.

the sight has you blushing-eyes teary, mouth open as moans freely spill out of them, saliva almost dripping out as you don’t have the strength to close them so you can swallow it down.

his hand cutting out basically all the air to your lungs, veins popping out due to the force he has to use.

you want to look at him, you want to look at him so badly, but you know that if you do, that the damage will be fatal for your pussy you. so, you keep on watching yourself, the way your whole body moves from the sheer force of his moves.

his dick is merciless-your walls still trying to get used to his girth while he’s fucking you with quick snaps of hips. the way his thickness is spreading you, better yet-splitting you open is messing with your head. you already know that you will walk funny later, but for now you settle on just letting you two get all the emotions out of your system.

quicker than you’d expect it, hao drops his other hand between your legs to quickly rub your clit. normally, you would be thrilled at this part, but something about how quickly he started doing it, not even 5 minutes of you two fucking, it makes you feel…weird. almost like he’s just trying to make you cum for the sake of you just cumming, not because he actually wants you to feel good and because he cares about your own enjoyment.

you distinctly hear his voice talk hotly in your ear, but you can register what exactly. before you know it, you feel your pussy squeeze around his cock, milking his own orgasm out of him pretty quickly.

the whole thing lasted all but a few minutes, and it feels almost…anticlimactic.

you two stay in your positions for a few seconds, breathing heavily due to the nature of your activities.

but then, before you can even react, you feel his body retreat from your own, quickly dressing himself up and tidying up his appearance.

but most importantly, he didn’t do it.

he didn’t kiss you-your lips or cheek, whatever is closer to him, and he didn’t say it. didn’t say ‘i love you’, like he always did.

something in your stomach drops, shame quickly coming to haunt you.

you immediately get up to your height and start getting dressed, both of you staying silent as you do so.

hao is thinking his words over, lips being bitten as he’s contemplating on how to resolve this problem.

to be honest, he hated this. this whole thing. he didn’t recognise his own actions, the way he acted so heartless towards you…it made him feel sick.

this wasn’t right.

no matter how high your emotions are, he should never stoop so low as to fuck simply out of anger.

he wasn’t supposed to make you feel or think like he hates you through his actions. he was supposed to make you feel loved, and appreciated. at best, he should’ve talked to you about the problem before he did anything of the sexual nature. but he was so desperate to make you look at him, to have you finally pay attention to him, that he didn’t know what to do other than to do what he did.

just as he was about to apologise to you and ask if you wanted to talk this whole situation out, a single sniffle broke out in the otherwise quiet bathroom.

hao’s head immediately snapped to you, panic hitting him like a wave during a storm. in two quick strides, he comes to stand before you only to see you looking down at the floor with tears streaming down your face as your shaky hands tried straightening the wrinkles out.

his hands immediately come to gently hold your cheeks as he asks “love what’s wrong? fuck, i ruined it all, didn’t i? i am so sorry baby, i don’t what came over me, i just thought-“

but before he can continue, you let yourself just fall into his arms, hands grabbing the back of his shirt as you hug him to yourself.

he immediately hugs you right back as he listens to your small sobs escape you, lips kissing the top of your head as countless “i’m sorry’s” slip out of his mouth.

ever so quietly, he hears you say “y-you didn’t say it.”

hao looks puzzled straight ahead of him, softly asking you “said what baby?”

through a broken inhale, you add “you didn’t sa-say ‘i love you’.”

his heart immediately drops from his chest ti the floor, realising that he forgot to say it due to the inner turmoil going on in his mind.

immediately pushing you back a bit, he sincerely yet heartbrokenly says “of course i love you, my love. how could i not? you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. i live to feel your love and to make you feel loved. and i’m so sorry if i ever made you feel otherwise, love.” he pauses for a second as he wipes your tears away, his own having to be blinked away as he looks at your heartbroken expression. “of course i love you. you are my first, greatest and last love. you are the only one for me.”

emotionally due to his words, you immediately prop yourself on tippy toes in the name of kissing him passionately yet slowly.

with no hesitation, minghao kisses you right back.

and with the kiss, you finally get the confirmation.

confirmation that even when you two are facing the troubles, it will always be you and him against the world.

confirmation that no one in this world could love you like he does.