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neferaskingdom · 3 months ago

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♡ I'M THE BIGGEST HATER | MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader [Face Claim: None]

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Summary: Max Verstappen and Y/N hate each other's guts. or do they? enemies since the day Max defeated Y/N at their very first Karting race when will these two just stop bickering and (in the wise words of Danny Ric) just kiss already?!?!

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A/N: been reading so many of these that I decided to try writing one myself. first time writing a smau so feel free to leave suggestions on how to improve. also comment to join the taglist as this is going to be a multi part series.

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Part 1 of my wheel-to-wheel but still in denial series: Masterlist

y/n_leclerc posted a photo:

📸: Young Y/N glaring at a smug Max after losing a childhood karting race. Y/N is sulking, and Max is holding the trophy like it’s an Olympic gold medal.

Caption: A perfect example of when I learned the universe is unfair. #tbt to the time maxverstappen1 ruined my life by winning our first kart race. Peak trauma. 👎

Liked by pierregasly, danielricciardo, lando.jpg, and 200,298 others.

Comments:

maxverstappen1:

You’re still mad about one race? Get over it. 🙄

↪ y/n_leclerc:

It’s not just one race. It’s the principle. I was 9, and you were an evil little gremlin.You’re lucky my parents raised me to be nice, or I would’ve shoved you off that podium.

↪ charles_leclerc:

She has a point. You were insufferable, Max.

danielricciardo:

Max still brags about that karting win to this day. 😂

↪ maxverstappen1:

danielricciardo I absolutely do. Winner’s mentality, baby. 🏆

↪ y/n_leclerc:

maxverstappen1 “Winner’s mentality”? You mean “cheater’s mentality”? I see you, Verstappen.

user1:

"Peak trauma" 😂😂 Please, Y/N, it’s been like 15 years. MOVE ON.

carmenmmundt:

Y/N was already giving "future champion energy" even back then.

↪ y/n_leclerc:

carmenmmundt AND she's got excellent taste in fashion, unlike Agent George. See you later for coffee, babe? 💋

↪ georgerussell63:

y/n_leclerc EXCUSE ME. Flirting with my girlfriend now, Y/N? 😂

↪ carmenmmundt:

georgerussell63 Sorry, George, Y/N’s just irresistible. 😘

maxverstappen1 posted a photo:

📸: Max on the podium after a win, champagne spraying everywhere.

Caption: Another win, another day Y/N gets to hate me. Can’t say I’m sorry. #winning #dontcry

Liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, alex_albon, and 360,210 others.

Comments:

y/n_leclerc:

Bold of you to assume I’d cry. I save my tears for important things, like Ferrari strategy meetings. 💔

↪ charles_leclerc:

y/n_leclerc Yeah, same.

lando.jpg:

MAX, WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS? 😂

danielricciardo:

Max trying to make enemies of everyone in the paddock one post at a time. Bold strategy.

pierregasly:

maxverstappen1 If you make her cry, I’m on her side. Just saying. 😎

↪ y/n_leclerc:

pierregasly You’re my favorite Gasly. Let’s get coffee and laugh at Max together.

↪ maxverstappen1:

pierregasly TRAITOR. 😡

y/n_leclerc posted a meme:

📸: A meme of someone dramatically rolling their eyes with the text “Every time Max Verstappen opens his mouth to talk”

Caption: Literally me every time this bitch opens his mouth. Like stfu?? 🙄

Comments:

maxverstappen1:

Just admit it—you think about me all the time.

↪ y/n_leclerc:

I think about you the way I think about stubbing my toe—briefly, painfully, and with regret. 😘

↪ charles_leclerc:

Get a room, you two.

↪ pierregasly:

charles_leclerc They’re already halfway there, bro.

lando.jpg:

Guys, this is giving “enemies to lovers” and I’m so here for it.

danielricciardo:

This is the slowest of slow burns. It’s like watching paint dry but funnier.

danielricciardo posted a meme:

📸: A meme of two dogs barking at each other from across the street, then stopping to awkwardly sniff each other when they meet face-to-face.

Caption: Max and Y/N’s entire relationship summed up in one image.

Liked by y/n_leclerc, landonorris, georgerussell63, and 500,193 others.

Comments:

maxverstappen1:

That’s so not what’s happening here. I don’t sniff anything. 😤

↪ y/n_leclerc:

Max definitely barks more than he bites. 😂

↪ danielricciardo:

maxverstappen1 You bark loud, but Y/N’s the one doing the damage.

georgerussell63:

How long before you two just admit you’re into each other?

↪ y/n_leclerc:

georgerussell63 Into? I’m just into destroying him on the track. Anything else is wishful thinking, George. 😏

y/n_leclerc posted a Video:

🎥: Slow-motion video of Y/N overtaking Max in a karting rematch, with her laughing as she passes him.

Caption: I haven’t lost my touch, maxverstappen1 😎

Comments:

user1:

SHE JUST DUSTED MAX IN KARTING. THE RIVALRY CONTINUES. 😂😂

user2:

Max was so cocky, and now Y/N is out here reminding him she’s a Leclerc. 😏

maxverstappen1:

I let her win. Just being a gentleman. 😌

↪ y/n_leclerc:

maxverstappen1 I beat you so bad I thought you were parked. 😆

↪ user3:

THE SHADEEE OMG

y/n_leclerc posted a video:

🎥: A video of a car zooming past another car with the caption "Me speeding past Max Verstappen’s ego every time I beat him."

Caption: Nothing feels better. maxverstappen1, cry about it. 😘

Comments:

maxverstappen1:

I’m living rent-free in your head. Just admit it😏.

↪ y/n_leclerc:

Rent-free? Bro, you’re squatting in the garbage disposal of my brain. The plumbing is bad, and no one’s happy. 😤.

↪ charles_leclerc:

I’m going to need therapy just from reading this. Can we not?

lando.jpg:

charles_leclerc Your sister has the energy of someone who stays up late making Max Verstappen hate memes.

danielricciardo:

I’d watch a whole Netflix series of this beef.

danielricciardo tweeted:

Prediction: Y/N and Max will either end up dating or killing each other. Either way, I'm selling tickets.

Comments:

user5:

I’d pay for that front-row seat. 🤣

georgerussell63:

Why not both? Dating and fighting. Iconic and toxic just like these two bitches.

y/n_leclerc:

danielricciardo keep your fanfiction to yourself Daniel 🤢

lando.jpg:

danielricciardo I’ll start selling merch. #maxy/n

↪ maxverstappen1:

I'll sue you to oblivion muppet

y/n_leclerc posted a photo:

📸: Y/N having drinks with Carmen, Lily and Kika

Caption: wining and dining these beauties while their boyfriends lose at Mario Kart. Boys, you could learn a lot from me. 😘 carmenmmundt, lilymhe, francisca.cgomes

Liked by landonorris, alex_albon, pierregasly, and 280,284 others.

Comments:

georgerussell63:

Carmen’s too good for you, Y/N. Stop trying. 😤

pierregasly

stay away from Kika wench 🤺🤺🤺

alex_albon:

lilymhe Don’t get any ideas. 😬

↪ lilymhe:

Sorry, Alex, Y/N just brings out the best in me. 😏

y/n_leclerc:

georgerussell63, alex_albon, pierregasly Relax, boys. I’m not stealing your girls. Yet. 💅

user1:

The fact that George and Alex are actually worried about this is the funniest thing. 😂

maxverstappen1:

georgerussell63, alex_albon, pierregasly I’ve been telling you guys for years—Y/N causes chaos. Don’t let her near the WAGs!

↪ y/n_leclerc:

maxverstappen1 You're just mad because I can charm people and all you have is your fast car. 😘

alexandrasaintmleux posted a picture:

Caption: Had a lovely coffee date with y/n_leclerc today. Sorry, Charles, you’ve been replaced by the better Leclerc. 💋

Comments:

charles_leclerc:

I leave you alone for one hour, and this happens, where's your loyalty babe?🤦‍♂️

↪ y/n_leclerc:

charles_leclerc Charles, it’s not you, it’s me. I’m just irresistible.

↪ charles_leclerc:

I’m being out-flirted by my own sister. Unbelievable.

oscarpiastri:

charles_leclerc Now I’m nervous to leave Lily around Y/N too… 😬

↪ lilyzneimer:

oscarpiastri Honestly? Can’t blame her. 😘

danielricciardo posted a meme:

📸: Meme of two people bickering with the text "Max and Y/N" but underneath it says "Us: Just kiss already."

Comments:

georgerussell63:

Finally someone said it. 😂

user5:

This slow-burn rivals-to-lovers storyline is too good. Can Netflix turn this into a reality show?

y/n_leclerc:

I'd rather stab myself in the foot

↪ maxverstappen1:

I'd rather jump into a pit of lava

↪ charles_leclerc:

I’ve never seen two people who hate each other this much. It’s exhausting.

↪ landonorris:

What if this isn’t hate, though? What if this is like, love in disguise?

↪ danielricciardo:

I’m just waiting for the day Y/N proposes to Max through a meme.

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1K notes · View notes

doomedmoth · 27 days ago

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Better kind of best friend (part 3)

Pairing : Reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux x Charles Leclerc | Poly & bisexual fem!reader

Warnings : obsessive/possessive/manipulative behavior, suggestive content/smut, fluff then angst then dark fluff, inaccurate racing calendar and school programs, polyamory, use of y/n

Synopsis : When you left the UK for a year long art restoration program in Monaco, you mainly wanted to make some friends. What you didn't expect was to find your best friend on the first day. And then fall in love with her. And then get tangled in the web of Monaco high society as her boyfriend came back to town, unaware of your little affairs. What the fuck happened to you, you just wanted to make some friends...

Moth's prophecy 💡 : Your favorite omen of doom & cringe is baaaack ! I wanted to give a special thanks to all the precious cryptids who have asked for the part three for literal weeks, always staying patient, nice, and sending messages so sweet I rot my teeth on them and made a collection of screenshots in my notes to motivate me. I never thought anyone would like my writing, let alone wait for it, so thank you. Y��all are my lights. On the subject of Better kind of best friend, a fourth part was not planned at first, but will make the ending smoother, so I’m sorry, this is not the end yet ! For those just discovering the series, you can find part one here and part two here, or in in the masterlist ! Enjoy !

“Ah per favore… Tell me you’re not dressing up like that for her.”

“Ah please, tell me you’re not giving your opinion when no one asked for it.” Chiara popped her tongue at your cold answer, and stayed in the opening of your door, clearly judging you.

You had been going through your closet for about an hour now, and the floor seemed to only disappear more and more under the layers of clothes thrown onto it carelessly. Nothing seemed good enough, partly because you had no idea what to expect for the evening, and mostly because no matter how much you refused to admit it, Chiara was right. You wanted to look pretty for someone else than yourself. For two people exactly. The thought of how quick you had thrown away all of your big principles when faced with fluttering eyelashes and pink cheeks almost made you sick.

Yet when they both got up from the table, Alex running to your arms with a smile and Charles blushing, eyeing you up and down, you thought that Chiara should just shut up once in a while. This was too good to not enjoy.

And you had promised yourself this would not be the same this time. They were your friends, they were dating, and you would keep a healthy relationship with both of them. But then Alexandra softly kissed your cheeks, and took your hand in hers. You would limit any type of confusing physical touch, and make sure to not give in to sweet pet names. But then she led you to Charles, who put his hand, much bigger and more calloused than his girlfriend’s, on your waist, and brought you closer to greet you. You would not let your fantasies take over facts, and you would keep all communication clear and honest to ensure your best friend stayed exactly that. A best friend. But then he told you you were gorgeous, and she giggled while still holding your hand, and they had your favorite drink already on the table, and suddenly you forgot everything you had told yourself in the mirror while getting ready. Surely it would come back to you if it was that important. Right ?

Back to you it came, in the form of Alex’s gorgeous friend and one of your workshop colleague, Luca. Almost falling on you as you exited the bathroom, he seemed like he had had one too many drinks already, and didn’t plan on stopping any time soon.

“Oh mais regarde toi, quelle beauté !” He grabbed at your waist and kissed your cheeks, blabbering on and on in French about your makeup and outfit. “Who are you trying to impress by looking so gorgeous, babe ?”

You chuckled and pretended he was wrong, but could not help and steal a glance. Of course you wanted to impress them, what a joke to pretend you did not care. Why for, even you had no idea, but you knew you would be satisfied as long as they kept their eyes on you. Which they had stopped doing for a while now, seeing as they were cuddled up on one of the couches, Alexandra sitting on Charles’ lap, hands in his hair, while he peppered her neck and shoulder with soft kisses. You could hear her giggles from afar, smell his shampoo, or maybe you just knew them too well for your own good.

You knew you were staring, knew Luca would be quick to catch on to what was happening if you did not get a hold of yourself, but it seemed that even the music and lights had faded in favor of the scene in front of you. It was hypnotizing, seeing her give in, seeing him take charge, knowing in your heart you should be there but never would be. Cheeks heating up, you turned back to Luca.

“I actually wouldn’t mind some company, if anyone here shares your opinion tonight.” Beaming, he hooked his arm with yours and took you straight to the bar to get a refill, which would inevitably end up spilled on the floor when he made you dance until you saw stars.

You don’t know how long you had danced for when he came to you. Hands sliding down your waist to your hips, his hot breath making the hairs on your neck dress up, you did not look up. You knew it wasn’t him. Because you knew how his hands felt from that one time he caught you from falling, because no man in their right mind would dance that way with their girlfriend’s friend in a crowded club, because it would never be your neck he buries his face in. But just for a few seconds, maybe minutes, you caught yourself hoping it was true, dreaming you would turn around and get a glimpse of green eyes before his lips crashed into yours. But the eyes were dark, the hair too blonde, the hands too soft. And yet you still let him kiss you, and when his slim fingers brought your dress higher on your buttcheeks, you even moaned in his mouth. Desperate was an understatement at this point.

“I’m going to put my fist so far up his ass he’ll be lucky if…” Alex’s sentence was cut short by Charles’ hand slamming against her face, flashing an apologetic smile to the friends they were chatting with and dragging her away. “Who even is that ? I’m going to get a bouncer to kick him out.” Charles had to tighten the grip on his arm to finally get her to look at him.

“Calm. Down.” This seemed to only piss her off more, but before she could start another rant, this time aimed at her boyfriend, he grabbed her by the neck and kissed her, giving him the advantage of surprise to then speak in her ear. “I know. But love, just look around you. At least half of this party knows us. I’m not sure punching a guy flirting with…” Unsure of how to call you to appease Alex, he opted for simplicity. “Y/N, and making a scene like a jealous wife is the best way to get her back.”

She sighed, head rubbing against the palm of his hand, before raising her doe eyes at him. “Then do it, Charles.” Getting closer to him, Alexandra brought her lips to his, her breath intoxicating like syrupy almonds. “Everyone knows you. Everyone loves you. Who would even dare to say something to Mr. Golden Boy.” Fluttering her eyelashes, she knew exactly how to get him. Sweet as honey, sharp as glass. “Why don’t you be a good boy and go fetch her for me, hm Charlie ?” He only managed to nod pathetically, his whole body aching to get on his knees and have her sit on his face.

The tension in his muscles was still present by the time he got to the bar stool where you were sitting, and he thought he might actually end up smashing the guy’s face against the counter. You were laughing like he had never heard before, the kind of sultry giggles that belonged to cab rides and hotel hallways, only an invitation for the hand already sat on your thigh to go up further. He barely had time to think of consequences, and you to realize he was standing behind you, before his hand fell to the guy’s shoulder, and he started speaking in his ear. The music was too loud, you were getting really drunk, so when the man’s eyes got wide, and he apologized before leaving in a hurry, you were unable to guess what Charles could have told him.

“I’m sorry, doll…” It wasn’t the first time he called you that, yet everytime it left your heart pulsing, and your core aching for more. You felt your legs wobble as he slid between them. “Seems he wasn’t interested in much more than a quick fling.” His fingers ran up your thigh and you almost fell the dig of a nail, before he took the hem of your dress and brought it back down to its usual length. The exhale that came out of your mouth felt like the first one in hours. “And you’re worth more than quick, aren’t you ?” At this moment, no, you weren’t worth more than that, you were yearning for someone to take your mind off the shitshow that was your heart, even if it meant bending over a bathroom sink for any nameless guy. But you smiled through the shivers and thanked him, even daring to put your hand on his. Everything was spinning, your ears were ringing, but he was smiling back at you, so maybe this evening wasn’t so bad. “Party’s over, let’s go home, doll.”

On the way back, Alex sat in the front of the car, but kept her hand on your knee the whole way, tracing small circles on your exposed skin. It almost seemed to you that with every sharp breath you took, you saw her smile in the car’s mirrors, but you fell asleep without being sure.

Even Charles was annoyed now. Maybe he could buy you a leash, make sure you were never straying too far. A tag too, so that you wouldn’t get lost. One with his name etched into the metal, just so there’d be no doubt. Just so that everyone knew who you belonged to. Would you be good ? Obedient ? He barely managed to get back to reality before his face got as red as his suit. Knee bouncing restlessly, his eyes were unable to leave you, bent over his car as a mechanic showed you his seat. If he could see you, it meant everyone could. And that was starting to get on his nerves.

“Sorry I found a pretty one” Alex whispered, sliding up behind him, her voice a low hum of amusement against his ear. “Sometimes I wish I could lock her up too…”

“I mean you could.” Charles knew he was fucking up. The words had tumbled out before he could stop himself, the implication behind heavy with something he would not dare to name. He knew his girlfriend had been teetering on the edge lately, and that any idea fueling her possessiveness would be considered, no matter how immoral. He knew he was supposed to be the voice of reason. Your soft way back to her, to them. Like the web to the spider. But this new mechanic he was definitely going to get fired was now making you try a headset, and he was playing with your hair, and the image of you getting yanked back to his feet was taking too much place in his brain. So when Alexandra stared at him, he simply shrugged, surrendering. “I don’t want her to stray too far when I’m on track. Who knows what could happen to her.”

When the free practice started, and Alexandra sent you to get her painkillers from the “infirmary”, you didn’t know what you were getting into. As the door locked behind you in the small storage room, you became painfully aware that you had no idea how this world worked. You had followed her instructions blindly, not really knowing anyone, and not wanting to cause trouble. And now you were banging on the door, feeling the air slowly get out of your lungs as the panic took over your body. There wasn’t any light in the room, and you could faintly hear the rumbles of the cars in the distance. Everyone was probably busy either watching or working on the track. No one would hear you scream, yet you begged for help with every bit of energy left in you.

Claustrophobia had been the fear you never got over. Taking stairs rather than elevators and walking over crowded buses, you had mostly managed on your own. But there you were, stuck in what seemed smaller than your bathroom at the residency, wondering if you were about to suffocate to death between tyre blankets and wires in Abu Dhabi. Charles had told you the practices lasted about an hour. But would you ? And even if your lungs hadn’t burnt from the thick air then, would someone find you right away ? Who could even come to look for you, in such a foreign place, with no friends other than two of the busiest people there could be this weekend ? Tears streaming down your face, you found yourself wishing you had never left their side. Maybe that would have been childish, but you would have been safe.

“Y/N ? Y/N are you in there ?” Anywhere in the world you would have recognized this voice. The only one that would understand your pain because she knew your fears. You screamed her name and heard rustling in the hallway. For a second when the door opened, she stood bathed in the clinical white lights, and you thought you had died. No angel would ever come close to such a vision. “Y/N ! Mon chou come here oh my god” She fell to her knees, opening her arms, and it felt like coming home. To hell with the physical distance, to hell with the principles. She had found you. She had saved you. Your head in her neck and her hands in your hair, you tightened your arms against her even when she gasped, but pulled you even closer. The tears falling down on your cheeks weren’t yours only, and you could barely make out what she was saying.

When the buzzing in your ears finally calmed down, she had cupped your face, whispering inches away from it. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you you’re safe. Please don’t leave me anymore. Please please please Y/N I beg you I got so scared, you weren’t coming back and I thought something had happened to you, it’s not safe here.” Rubbing your cheek with her thumb, she even kissed repeatedly your forehead as you could only nod, still crying. “Stay by my side, please never do that again. I thought I had lost you, I thought…”

You said yes, over and over again, apologizing as if it had been your fault, promising to be good like a prayer to a benevolent deity.

When Charles got out of the car and saw you holding Alex’s hand, your whole body twitching while she was beaming, he could not help but smirk. On a counter next to his phone, the keys to one of the storage rooms sat innocently, gleaming under the lights.

The weeks following the incident felt like a blur, as if your mind was slowly sinking into the mist of December mornings, and the last of your independence with it. Wherever you turned, Alexandra’s warmth and Charles’s steady hands were there, lingering at the edge of your vision, too close to be a coincidence.

But it was too comforting to not bathe in it. Your mind kept on replaying the moment your friend had found you in the storage room so many times it became a mantra, a balm to soothe the fear that still clawed at your thoughts at night. She found you. She saved you. She would never leave you. Charles too, after making a scene at the race and demanding the lack of safety in the infrastructure to be investigated, had made a point of shielding you from anything he deemed not safe. Which now that you were back in Monaco, seemed to be everything and everyone. You caught him glaring more than once at strangers, his body always carefully sliding between you and anyone who got too close.

Yet you had also been witness to the ugly side of fame since, the shadows it casted and the vultures it attracted, and trusted them to keep you away from it. All celebrities seemed to like their private life to stay, well… Private, and so when he brushed a stray hair from your face and told you he wouldn’t let any creep bother his dear friend, you believed him.

And truth be told, you loved the attention. That’s what you wished for, all you ever wanted, you told yourself as Alex braided your hair on the couch of the residency, Charles scrolling on his phone, his knee brushing absent-mindedly against yours. It was sweet, how they cared so much. Your roommates had given up on understanding, as long as the mood was not as icy as it had been the past month, they were fine with pretending nothing had ever happened. Life itself seemed to be so much easier with just them anyway. Why bother looking elsewhere, for what even ?

“I thought you were really cute, and I just wanted to give you my number, if you ever wanna go on a date.” The French accent snapped you out of your thoughts, and you nodded, blushing, as the barista winked at you. Your gaze immediately darted to the side, as if they’d be standing there, watching. But you had come alone, like stepping outside without a coat, not sure how you were now feeling about the decision. No matter what, it seemed their presence clung to you like a second skin.

They weren’t stopping you from dating, or making friends out of the internship. But it had been a while since you had thought about anyone else in that manner, and stepping out of the comfortable bubble you had built around the three of you now seemed like such an effort, on top of being scary. A voice in your head, your voice probably, even though it sounded too much like Alexandra’s, always ended up whispering : What else do you need that you don’t already have ?

The barista’s number scribbled on a napkin stayed untouched in your bag. Charles’ eyes had lingered too long on your phone screen one night, and when you mentioned in passing the way the uber driver had complimented your makeup, Alex had tilted her head just slightly, her smile not quite reaching her eyes, her tongue brushing faintly against her canine. But they laughed it off, and you laughed with them, sinking into a soft net that felt more silk than cloud.

Had you been more careful, maybe you would have seen the signs. The way stuff in your bedroom seemed to change places, or even disappear. The deleted messages sent from your own phone, asking to be left alone, confirming you weren’t interested. The delicate touch of a hand on your arm, the oh-so-French kiss on the cheeks you always seemed to receive whenever a flirtatious wink was sent your way. But you had missed her, and you liked him so much, and for nothing in the world you would go back to a world where those weren’t your best friends. No matter how hard it was to fall asleep picturing them running their hands further than morality authorized.

As you lingered by Marco’s door, his bed still a wreck even though he had left a week ago, you couldn’t help but sigh. The house was so quiet, barely troubled by the faint swirl of wind in the garden. You thought you would like it this way. Even though it had been fun, living with seven other art students had been… Messy. Now everyone had gone home, and there was no need for fighting over the thermostat or Sunday mornings rush to get groceries anymore. Only the handmade decorations were left behind, like ghosts of their absence.

You couldn’t explain to yourself why you had resisted going home. On the phone with your mother, you had brushed it off with excuses about the time-consuming art pieces, the flights, and how it would be easier to stay. But when the clock struck midnight on the 22, and the thought of waking up alone for the next few days clawed at your chest, you booked the next available flight. You’d surprise your family. Sitting at the table and laughing at their jokes and going for a walk after lunch. You’d come home.

The morning of the 24th greeted you with hope, and then a storm. Nice’s airport’s fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows on the crowd’s disappointed faces as flight after flight turned red on the departure boards. You tried to stay calm, fiddling with a trinket tied to your bag, but when the announcement came that no flights would leave until the storm cleared, something inside you cracked. You were stuck. Not home. Not Monaco.

You stared at your phone, thumb hovering over Alexandra’s contact. You hadn’t told them you were leaving, hadn’t wanted to explain why the urge to run away, and why you were now desperately crawling back. The empty airport felt like punishment, and your fingers moved before you could second-guess yourself. Faced with her warm voice, the words tumbled out on their own. The storm. The canceled flights. The panic of the crowd slowly but surely spreading to you.

“You stay there, we’re coming to get you”. You barely had time to protest before the call ended.

When their car pulled up outside the terminal, the storm still raged, rain lashing against the windshield as Charles parked. Alex hopped out, an umbrella barely covering her as she ran to you, her sparkly short dress illuminating the pavement. “Oh, mon chou, you must be freezing,” she cooed, wrapping her coat around your shoulders and guiding you to the car.

Charles was waiting, heater blasting, his smile soft as he looked back at you from the driver’s seat. “You should’ve told us you were leaving,” he said, a hint of reproach softened by his tone.

You shrugged, sinking into the warmth of the car. “It was a last-minute thing.”

Alexandra clicked her tongue, clearly disapproving, as she slid in beside you. “At least you have your bag ready.” You barely had time to register what was happening as you saw Charles type in an address that was definitely not the residency. Before you could ask, his eyes met yours in the mirror.

“You’re not spending Christmas alone, doll. I called my mom on the way, so I hope you like oysters.” He broke eye contact as you opened your mouth to protest, his voice much lower, daring you to defy him. “Don’t argue with me, it’s already settled.”

Their idea of Christmas was something out of a dream. Charles’ family home in Monaco was decked out in soft lights and greenery, the smell of mulled wine and myriads of meals filling every corner. His family welcomed you with open arms, and Alexandra’s parents, who had joined as well, treated you with the delicate attention of pretending like your presence had always been planned.

The day went on as if you were stuck in the flow of a warm river, feeling the deep call you but unable to move a muscle to swim against it. You hadn’t been allowed to lift a finger, Charles steering you away from the kitchen when you offered to help, pressing a glass of wine in your hand instead. “Absolutely not. You’re a guest, Y/N. Relax.”

Everytime someone asked how you were enjoying the day, one of them was always quick to describe how “special” it was to have you here, and how glad they were to finally be able to introduce you. Their attention was always on you, always ready for any request you might have. What had become a natural habit, developing over the last few weeks, was now exacerbated under the glimmering lights, and the Christmas tree seemed to wink at you, knowingly, as if it was in on whatever elaborate spectacle Charles and Alexandra had orchestrated. Their care was overbearing but left no room for complaint. By the time dessert was served, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. An intricate figurine in a glass case, too precious to touch but constantly on display. Anytime Charles called for his doll, you got dizzier.

When everyone gathered around the fireplace to open their gifts, the cook gave you a knowing look and gestured at another glass of wine left on the kitchen counter, before swiftly exiting the room. You gladly took it and observed from afar the parade of extravagance. Designer clothes, limited-edition art pieces, concerts tickets in another country. If you thought your own Christmases back home were lavish, it was no comparison to the Leclerc’s.

“Here, mon chou.” Alexandra purred, pressing a carefully wrapped small box in your hand. “We planned on giving it to you next week but now’s even better.”

You hesitated, feeling your cheeks heat up as everyone turned to you. This was not planned. You did not have time to get either of them anything, even less their families. It all felt like a show you had never agreed on being a part of. “You really didn’t have to-”

“Open it.” Charles interrupted, his grin infuriating, dimples bigger than ever. He lounged back on the sofa, one ankle resting casually on his knee, his gaze fixed on you. With a brush of his hands, he pretended to swish away your worries. “We’ll go and change it if you don’t like it”.

The box revealed a delicate bracelet, platinum with tiny diamonds winking along its length. Sucking in a breath, you felt their eyes on you, expectant, hungry for your reaction. “It’s pretty, no ?” Alexandra’s voice was eager, her fingers brushing yours as she took the bracelet to clasp it around your wrist. It was too much. The alcohol made your head pound and you felt like throwing up. Raising your eyes, the guilt hit you like a wave. They had done so much for you, gone out of their way to include you, and you couldn’t even summon the gratitude they deserved ? The metal was biting into your skin as if in reprimand, your whole body feeling like fire since you had finished your glass. Taking a deep breath, you excused yourself to “freshen up”.

The low hum of voices faded as you found a quiet room in the labyrinth that was the house. This is what you’d always wanted, wasn’t it ? To be cared for, adored, treated like the most important person in the room ? Then why did it feel too much ? Why did it feel like drowning ? You thought back to October, and quickly recognized the signs of your love barging through the door, demanding the best place at the table. You couldn’t let either of them know you were back on your stupid feelings, or they would leave you again. And then ? You had seen the pain, for everyone involved. Good friends. Best friends. Nothing more. Nothing less. You exhaled, praying for your thoughts to shut up, concentrating on the wind outside.

It was Charles that came for you, sitting carefully next to you on the bed, as though you might shatter if he moved an inch wrong. Turning away from the frosted window, you murmured. “Just needed a breather.”

“I’m sorry.” Before you even had time to ask what for, he sighed, gesturing vaguely towards the door. “For all of this. We just wanted to make you feel welcome but… It’s obviously not working.” Running a hand through his hair, betraying his frustration, his other one went tentatively to yours, and your fingers laced together. “I can see you’re not enjoying this, and I know it will never be the same as being with your family.”

“Charles, I don’t-”

“I can arrange a plane.” He was rambling on, a habit they seemed to share, and in the soft light of the moon, you could swear his eyes were red. “First thing in the morning, have you be home before lunch. We love having you here, doll, but… I think it might have been selfish of us.” There. You had made him sad. He had made you feel like family and you had fled like a spoiled child. If anyone was selfish here, it was you.

“No !” You blurted, the word too loud, startling even yourself. Moving towards him on instinct, you threw yourself in his arms, hands gripping to his back, fingers curling against the smooth fabric of his sweater. He tilted his head, questioning, but you only buried your face against his chest. “I… I don’t want to leave. I’m sorry if I’ve seemed ungrateful. I didn’t mean to. It’s not too much, you’re not too much. You could never be. I’ll try harder, I’ll appreciate it more, I’m sorry I-” It seemed the habit had also infected you, and your monologue was stopped by Charles’ thumb brushing against your bottom lip.

“Shhh” The hand that was in your back went up to your head, softly rubbing your hair, as you lost yourself in his eyes. Were those freckles or just beauty spots ? Had those always been here ? You felt tempted to touch them but froze up when your lips opened up on instinct. Seriously, how many drinks did you have ? “You don’t have to apologize. I just want you to feel welcomed and… Appreciated.” The moment stretched, world narrowing to the warmth of his arms and the pulse of your heart as he opened your mouth even more and slid his thumb past your lips, your teeth, and to rest against your tongue. “And loved.” His gaze was fixated on your lips, and for a brief moment, until footsteps were heard in the hallway, you thought he was going to kiss you, or maybe slap you. You wouldn’t have protested either.

His lips went to brush softly against your forehead, and it took every last ounce of self-control in you to not bite down on his thumb as he took it out of your mouth. His fingers traced down your cheek, your jaw, down to your neck, where he softly closed his fingers around your throat as the moan that had been stuck in there was finally let free. You wanted this moment to last forever, almost wished he would choke you out so you would never have to go back to reality. But something snapped suddenly in his eyes, and he ruffled at your hair before standing up with a confidence that made you question if the moment had truly happened, or if the cook had spiked your drink. In the white light of the night, his finger shined briefly with saliva, and you followed him back to the living room like a dog who had gotten the sweetest treat.

The floor length mirror stared back at you, unkind in its honesty. You leaned in as Alexandra gently titled your chin up with her fingertips, her voice humming as she added the finishing touches to your makeup. The sharpness of your features seemed amplified under their bedroom golden light, and your reflection felt foreign. Maybe it was the week, and its endless swirl of champagne, parties, and faces you couldn’t remember. Or maybe it was the memory of Christmas Eve, and its almost-kiss which kept replaying in your mind like a broken record you didn’t have the strength to discard.

Charles hadn’t mentioned it. Not a word. The morning after, his smile came on as easy as ever, his voice smooth and jokes easy, as if nothing had happened. Alex had thrown herself onto him, bathing him in affection, as though your world hadn’t turned upside down in that hidden room. Even now, as his hands brushed against your shoulders, slipping the straps of your too-short dress into place, you were wondering if you hadn’t dreamed it all.

“Stop squirming” He teased, smoothing out the fabric and pulling up the zipper.

Alexandra laughed and stepped back to inspect her work, two fingers still holding your chin. “She’s not squirming, she’s just nervous.”

“Il y a pas de quoi être stressé, c’est le Nouvel An, pas une gardav’ non plus…” Not understanding the slang, you copied your friend’s reaction, and as she clicked her tongue, you rolled your eyes.

You felt like an imposter. How could you have let it get this far ? You were supposed to go back to being friends, that was the deal. Not over complicating things, not pushing boundaries of what they were giving you. But then every time one of their friends got curious about you, Alexandra would say you were “Just someone special”, her casual voice contrasting with her nails scratching on your thigh. Her eyes would flicker, the kind that warned you not to correct her, and you let yourself get locked up in this almost-relationship that you had so desperately tried to escape a few weeks before.

Reaching for the curling iron, she murmured, more observation than question. “You’ve been quiet today.”

“Just tired, I guess… We’ve gone out a lot this week.” You forced a laugh, aiming for nonchalance, but Charles simply raised a brow, not impressed.

“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to. We can just stay there, order some food, …”

You cut him off by twirling on yourself, the dress flaring so high it couldn’t have been conceived to cover anything. Alexandra groaned and caught you by the shoulders to steady you, apparently not satisfied with your curls. “When I look like that ? It would be such a waste !” The green-eyed boy chuckled and nodded in agreement. Dressed to perfection, your hair soft and shining, you looked exactly like what they wanted you to be : a doll. And truth be told, you enjoyed it. When he kissed his girlfriend on the cheek and they both looked at you with something that could be pride, you knew you owed it to them to have fun, at least tonight, at least the following months. At least until England called you back and you answered, leaving your summer love to rest on the green hills. You owed it to them to pretend you weren’t haunted by the ghost of “almost”, and maybe you could even pretend long enough to end up believing it yourself.

“Close it, you’re going to swallow a fly.” Charles pushed softly on your chin to close your mouth you had left wide in awe, before rubbing the nape of his neck. “Much funnier in French…” He mumbled before leaving his keys to a valet, and opening the way for you and Alexandra. The mansion was huge, its garden spilling to the edge of the woods behind it, and the music pulsing through the air carried promises of a night you might not remember in the morning.

It seemed everyone who knew a Formula 1 driver, directly or indirectly, had been invited. Some faces you recognized, but most not, and the shower of compliments you found yourself in as soon as you stepped foot in the main living room quickly felt suffocating. The polite flirting made you feel uneasy, their admiration like scrutiny, and before you even had time to cling to your anchors, they drifted away. “I’ll be right back, chou.” Charles’ hand brushed briefly against yours before he followed his girlfriend to go greet some friends, and you stayed right where they left you.

No matter how much you repeated your internal calming mantra, the vulnerability was creeping in. There were too many people you didn't know, and so you made it a mission to not lose again the only two that mattered. When they asked if you were having fun, you nodded, the lie automatic. For the following hours, it turned to truth, as you stuck close to them like a guard dog unwilling to stray too far from its leash. If Charles moved to refill a drink, you downed yours too quickly to follow. If Alexandra drifted to another conversation, your hand clung to her elbow, begging to tag along. You weren’t proud of it, but the dread clawed at your chest every time you stood alone for more than a heartbeat. You were enjoying yourself as long as you weren’t left to your own devices. Long gone was the resolution of making new friends, it seemed.

The air in the house had been filled with tension as midnight approached, and you felt like you had suddenly woken up. A glass of something golden in your hand, its fizz long forgotten, you were nodding along to Pierre’s story about an incident on a recent trip, while his girlfriend Kika hung onto his arm, punctuating his tale with playful jabs. You tried to listen, you really did, but something was missing, and you couldn’t help but give in to the voices bothering your every thought as he wrapped up his story.

“Have you seen Charles ? Or Alex…?”

Kika’s lips curled, mischief in her eyes, and she exchanged a look with Pierre who chuckled. “They’ve probably gone to enjoy the view, as usual.”

“Top floor,” Kika added, still giggling as she sipped her cocktail. “There’s a balcony up there that’s quite… Private.”

Mumbling a quick excuse, you set your glass down and slipped away, through the maze of guests and corridors of the sprawling mansion. The thud in your ears was soon more heartbeat than music, the knot in your stomach tightening between unease and anticipation. When you reached the top floor, the door to the bedroom was ajar, dim light coming from within and spilling onto the hallway. You closed it behind you, breath stuck in your throat.

There they were. Alexandra’s back was pressed against the railing, her sequined dress shimmering in the moonlight as Charles leaned into her. His hands rested on either side of her waist, fingers curling possessively over the iron, as he brought one knee up between her legs, silencing her laugh. He was working down her throat when she opened her mouth, eyes fixed on you, but did not stop kissing and biting, seemingly not caring.

“Oh darling, caught us” She purred, her voice thick with amusement. Her manicured finger pointed at you before curling, inviting you to come closer. You should not. You should flee. This was not your moment, it would never be. Also, you should keep a closer eye on your drinks because someone was definitely having fun drugging you lately, no way any of this was true. But your feet moved before your brain was done having a panic attack, and you found yourself gently pushed in the woman’s arms by Charles.

She probably saw your eyes jumping from one to the other, thoughts racing behind them at light speed, and with each hand on your cheeks, centered you back to her face. This felt like deja-vu, your lips so close, your perfume swirling together, like the wish you had screamed to the moon that night was finally becoming true, only a few months too late.

“I’m sorry.” Oh no. Oh not again. You were about to jump out of her embrace when you felt his body behind yours, closing back on both of you as his hands caught on the guardrail once more. “Stay. Please.” Not like you had much of a choice anyway. Charles was looking down at the garden over her shoulder, badly pretending as if he wasn’t inches away from the most private conversation happening tonight. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize what was going on between us. And I’m sorry I hurt you in the process. You deserve the world, not any of the mess I put you through. I hope one day you’ll forgive me.” She was already forgiven, how could she not when her apologies were whispered between your lips. “But I know where I stand now. And if you allow me, I’ll never give you less than the world. Because that’s what you deserve. Because you love me and I love you.”

“Ten !” Charles took a step to the side as the screams from downstairs echoed through the whole house. He leaned on the balcony, and you almost fell to the floor from the shaking in your legs. “Nine !” She caught you by the waist and pulled you back to her with a laugh, one so hesitant it could only be filled with honesty.

“Eight !” You were dreaming. You wanted to punch yourself to wake up, but without even knowing how, your hands had gone up to her arms, shoulders, neck, cheek. “Seven !” You had promised yourself, you had promised her, and Chiara, and the world itself, that you would be fine being just friends. “Six !” Why was she the one ruining all of your efforts ? Why was she still the one you would wait for, when everyone else was long gone ?

“Five !” Was Charles just going to stand there, and pretend like his girlfriend didn’t confess to someone else ? “Four !” Maybe they had talked ? Maybe they had been open this whole time and you hadn’t seen the signs ? Would he kiss you too ? “Three !”

You cupped her cheeks and it felt like the world exploded when your lips met. Or maybe it was just the fireworks. Maybe it was the culmination of months of pining, love and pain, that was giving her kiss a taste of blood, a taste of more. She switched your places, pinning you against the barrier and deepened the kiss as your hands tugged at her hair, undoing the curls she had so carefully crafted. Everyone was screaming for the New Year, but you felt like they were doing it for you. Is that how it felt, to love and be loved ? Like you would rather run out of oxygen than end the moment. Like teeths and tongues, being fourteen and messy all over again. Like a movie-worthy compilation of every smile she had flashed you for the last four months was playing behind your closed eyes.

When you opened them, her mouth now running wild on your jaw, it’s a green spark of amusement that was looking back at you, a slow whistle coming out of his dry lips. Shit. You had kissed his girlfriend. Or his girlfriend had kissed you. And he wasn’t moving to join in. Were you about to be thrown from the highest balcony in some sick kind of real-life Cluedo ? But he simply brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, and the small caress he gave to Alexandra’s back made her moan against your collarbones. “Les clés sont sur la porte mon amour.” She mumbled what you understood to be thank you, not sure why for, as he moved towards the door.

“Wait Charlie I’m…” It was difficult to talk with Alex, determined to kiss every inch of visible skin on your body, and there was a lot. “I’m sorry I… What’s happening ?” You could only hope they had not broken up, not because of you, yet you saw no world in which this situation would be acceptable for him. With his usual playful grin you had grown so fond of, he winked at you before exiting the room swiftly.

“There’s a time for actions, and a time for explanations. Happy New Year, doll.”

With every step that she took you followed, painfully aware of how much she knew you, much better than you would have thought. Kissing in all the right places, her grin was getting wider every time you winced under the dig of her sharp nails, and she hushed you as if the drunken screams downstairs weren’t covering your moans. But you were determined to be good, as you had been from day one, and so you bit the pillow and pulled at her hair, let her know it hurts and let her keep going, because you loved her and she loved you. And she would never leave you.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

Taglist : @sam-is-lost // @mangotaitai // @ilovechickenwings // @eroselless // @zreads111 // @crimson-spine // @inejismywife // @champomiel // @eternoange1 // @charizznorizz // @exactlycoralfox // @waitwhendidwegethere // @cluelessred3 // @spookystitchery // @erikasurfer // @catswag22 // @appl3-0rchard // @janeh22 // @boohoneyy // @sheslikeacurse // @customsbyjcg-blog // @urmotheris // @lewisvinga // @formulaal // @novocainenoon // @taytaylala12 // @esterdnebe // @jack0357 // @mortallyblueninja // @jexxy04 // @itsprashimusic // @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp // @annabellelee // @natsmywife // @daisyfreecs // @scorpiomindfuck // @themessietbihalive // @ananyasr1bughead

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livinginshambles · 1 year ago

Text

How much are we worth? | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word count: 5.8k

Summary: Sirius bets that James can't get a girl to go out with him. James pursues you and falls for you. You are hurt when you find out that you were just a bet, even more when you realise how little they bet on you.

Notes: A classic: Strangers to friends to lovers, Angst, Bet trope, Fluff and happy ending because yey, I believe in second chances :) Existence of a wardrobe that works like newt scamanders suitcase and SPeLLing Mistakes

Masterlist

_________________

In hindsight, you should've known.

"Have you maybe considered giving up on her?" Remus' question caught James off guard when he returned to the marauders at the Gryffindor table after another failed attempt and rejection by Lily.

"Not until she's given me a chance at least," James responded, eyes trained on Lily's retreating figure. "Besides, this chasing game is sort of our thing now."

The marauders nodded sceptically.

"Not particularly the dynamic I'd want to have with the person I fancy," Peter whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear. James shot him a look as if Peter had just committed the greatest betrayal of the century.

Sirius snorted out loud. "Dynamic my ass, yeah." He threw a piece of bread across the table in James' direction.

"He's stuck with Lily now because if he decides to chase some other poor girl and inevitably get rejected, it'll prove that James Potter just can't get some," he added, wearing a shit eating grin on his face.

James pulled a face at Sirius. "Oh please I can get girls. It's just that contrary to you, I actually show commitment to only one," he huffed.

Sirius shrugged. "You say that, but you've never even had a girlfriend. Been pining over Evans since first year. Besides, commitment or being stuck," he weighed his hands in the air. "Same same."

James rolled his eyes and got up. When he turned around, he crashed into someone who had been standing behind him, tripping her, and he sent her crashing into the Ravenclaw table behind him. The Ravenclaw sitting at that table ducked out of the way. She stuck her hands out to brace herself and loudly hissed when her hand ended up in someone's scalding soup.

"Godric, I am so sorry," James scrambled to offer her a napkin. She snatched it out of his hands and dried her hands. James saw that they were scorching red and more apologies stumbled out of his mouth.

"Let me help you get to madam Pomfrey," he offered, concern lacing his tone. He reached his hand out to her and she jerked away.

"Fuck off Potter, I'd rather take a bloody bath in boiling water than go anywhere with you." She spat, and left, hand pressed against her chest, covered by the napkin.

The commotion had everyone turn their heads at him and despite usually being a fan of being at the centre of attention, he embarrassedly sat down again.

"Guess really no girl wants to go anywhere with you, Prongs," Sirius snickered. James offered him a sour look.

"This was just because I literally burned her hand, Pads. Any other time, she would totally go out with me." James boasted, but guilt and concern for the girl who he didn't know, lingered in his mind.

"Right, you wanna bet?"

"The usual?"

"The usual."

They sealed the deal with a nod. Peter and Remus shared a look but they knew that was no use trying to tell them to stop it already. Remus thought back to the scowl on the girl's face and prayed that she would stay headstrong and reject James.

After all, Sirius and James were from wealthy families, so money has never actually played a role during these bets. It’s just the principle of it that counts and is the reason why they only ever bet one galleon. It meant someone would get hurt.

The scowl on your face disappeared with the cool relief of the running water from the girls bathroom on your hand, but the bitter feeling remained when your mind wandered to James Potter. You scoffed to yourself. Arrogant, self pretentious, blood boiling bully. Though never having been a victim of their pranks, you lost several friends to Beauxbatons because of the marauders’ cruelty.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror one last time and left for your Ancient Runes class where you walked to your designated seat next to Lily Evans. You two unsurprisingly got along. Though your personalities were nothing alike, you being rather reserved, you could both value each other’s calm presence and even ‘maturity’ to a certain degree.

She offered you a smile and you nodded at her in acknowledgement. “I’m embarrassed to ask this, but could I maybe share your book? I didn’t have time to pick it up after lunch.” Lily gave you a surprised look but quickly assured you that you could to which you offered her a small but grateful smile.

She opened her mouth to tell you something, when something else, or rather someone else, caught her attention. Before he even reached the table, she had already attempted to ward him off in a monotone voice. “Go away Potter, I’m not interested.”

“Not here for you, Lilypad,” he smugly said and stopped right next to you. Lily raised her eyebrows and looked at you with a concerned look. Without looking up from Lily’s book, you also repeated Lily’s words. “Fuck off Potter, I’m not interested either.”

“I haven’t even said anythi-“

“And I don’t want you to.”

“Okay, but here me out, I-“

“I. Don’t. Want. You. To,” you pronounced every word clearly.

“Come on, just listen-“

You turned around, an incredibly sour look on your face. James couldn’t help but admire you for a moment. You looked pretty, contorted face aside. Especially when you had smiled at Lily. It had caught him off guard.

“Can you spare me a second?” He tried again. For a second, he thought he saw a look of appreciation cross your face at his formulated words, but it was gone in a split second.

“No. Class is starting, get back to your seat Potter,” you dryly responded. You turned back to your book and James walked back to his friends.

James potter was determined though, you had to give him that. You abruptly turned on your heels, ready to walk in the opposite direction, even if it would mean a detour of about 8 minutes to your destination. You were really not into his crap today.

“Y/N!” James called out to you and chased you.

“I told you to call me by my last name. We're not friends, Potter. I don’t want to be. In fact, I don’t want anything to do with you. So, for Merlin’s sake, leave me alone, or I swear on his balls that I will hurt you.” You spat the last part out through gritted teeth and

James took a step back in surprise. He looked at you for a moment, carefully considering his next words. “L/N.” He settled on, voice quieter. When you didn’t immediately walk off, he took it as a sign to continue. “I was wondering if you would allow me to sit next to you during our free period between Transfiguration and Potions.”

You raised you eyebrows.

“My friends all took classes and there’s like a two hour gap and I like company, that’s all,” he hastily explained before you could go and reject him.

“What are you, six years old?” You sarcastically asked him. “Can’t spend what, two hours on your own?”

James’ eyes averted to the ground. “Just not enjoying being alone,” he mumbled, almost embarrassedly. You looked at him, great, now you were being an asshole yourself.

“You know the big old wardrobe in the abandoned classroom on the seventh floor?” you eventually asked. James’ eyes lit up and nodded.

“It’s bigger on the inside.” You said.

“A secret room?” He asked while trying to recall seeing an extra room on the map. You nodded. “Not even visible on your map because it’s not Hogwarts. A pocket dimension, Dumbledore said.”

James’ jaw fell slack. “You know about the map?” he whispered.

“You can join me there between classes next week if you want, but I can’t promise you that it’ll be any different to passing the time on your own.” You said, completely ignoring him. You stopped in front of the library. “A word about the wardrobe and I swear-“

“-on Merlin’s balls that you’ll hex me, yeah,” he waved you off with a triumphant smile.

“Witty, are you now.” You looked at him. A small smirk lingering on the corner of your lips. James heart skipped.

“Just one of the effects you have on me, darling,” he winked at you. “L/N,” he quickly corrected when your face fell into a scowl again.

“I’m not kidding though, this is my spot to get away from everything. I don’t feel like sharing it with people.” James felt flattered. So you would share it with him?

“I solemnly swear I won’t tell,” he assured you, a serious expression on his face. “You can trust me, L/N.” He cringed at his own words. Trust him? He was only talking to you to prove Sirius wrong.

“I’ll hold you to it, Potter,” you nodded and entered the library. The door closed and James slouched against the wall next to him. A giddy feeling fluttered in his stomach at the thought of hanging out with you.

“So what happened to rather bathing in boiling water than going anywhere with me,” James couldn’t help but arrogantly ask while trying to keep up with your ridiculously fast walking pace as you two were on your way to the wardrobe. “I’m not going anywhere with you, you’re going somewhere with me,” you denied, your eyes narrowed at him. James put his hands up in mock surrender. “Lead the way, L/N.”

“I am,” you deadpanned.

James sceptically looked at the oak wardrobe. He and his friends had rummaged through this room already. It included the wardrobe, but it had looked pretty normal.

“Doesn’t look very special,” he said while you were busy locking the door behind you. You made your way over to James and pushed him out of the way roughly. He gaped at you with an offended look on his face. “You know, being a bit more chivalrous wouldn’t hurt you,” he exclaimed.

You shrugged and opened the door. James stared in amazement as he realised that the inside was in fact bigger. He walked to the wall that the wardrobe was standing against and squeezed his hand between the wall and the wardrobe.

“Why are you so surprised?” you asked. “We literally learned about the Extension charm yesterday?”

“We did?”

Maybe hanging out with James Potter wasn’t as terrible as you had expected it to be and so, it became a routine. James had finally realised that his persistence to flirt with you or try to impress you wasn’t getting him anywhere and had opted to actually be considerate of you.

He respected you when you not so kindly told him to fuck off and was sitting next to you quietly while you studied between hours in the wardrobe. He had read the book that he’d seen you read in the courtyard- and was surprised to find himself interested in the story- so that he could talk to you about something when your demeanour told him that he could speak again. He stuck to calling you by your last name and learned to read your mood when he could joke around.

Most importantly, he’d learned to enjoy himself in a comfortable silence that didn’t require him to do or say anything and just let him be.

You two were laying on the couch again, feet propped up, both on opposite sides, but feet touching in the middle. James was admiring you. The way your eyebrows crunched up in a frown, eyes squinted, and lips mouthing the words you were reading.

“You’re careless with spelling, Potter.” You eventually looked up from correcting his assignment. “But that’s a brilliant essay.”

James beamed up at you, relief, pride and happiness all washing over him at once.

“Also, you have a nice handwriting,” you added after considering whether or not you should mention it.

James was now fully grinning, pushing himself to sit up from his relaxed position. “Two compliments?” he asked teasingly and you immediately huffed and looked away. “Don’t let it get to your head, Potter. It’s big as it is.”

“But you think I’m brilliant and that my handwriting is nice.” He repeated happily.

“Your essay was brilliant,” you attempted to correct him, but he seemed to be lost in happy thoughts. You looked at him. He had his arms up behand his neck because he had laid down again. He was grinning from ear to ear and his eyes squinted in delight and satisfaction. He looked so... harmless.

“You know,” you began and James looked up at you, propping himself up a little in curiosity at the fact that you were starting the conversation for the first time.

“I used to think you were the biggest asshole ever. Astoundingly stupid and good for nothing but hurting people.” You were looking up at the ceiling now and missed the way James eyes flashed with mixed feelings.

“I had a few friends, you know. They were great, but everyone called them boring and a stick in the mud.” You turned your head towards James. “You and the rest of the marauders used to tell us to “lighten up already,” and pranked us separately, one by one until all five moved schools.”

James looked down, feeling horrible and guilty. It was true that in his early years at Hogwarts, he and his friends had been going too far with pranks. That kind of stopped after that prank.

“So I’ve held a grudge against you, like any good friend would do,” you smiled to yourself at the thought of your friends. “I think maybe I no longer have to.” James heart melted at your confession. Over the course of weeks, he’d become desperate for your approval and friendship.

“You’ve changed since then,” you concluded out loud. “Not cruel anymore.” You hesitated for a moment.

“James?” You then asked and James looked up at you with wide eyes. He knew that this was the first time that you’d addressed him by his name instead of ‘Potter’.

“Yeah?”

“I really value our friendship,” you whispered. “It’s worth a lot to me.”

James heart both warmed and tightened. “It’s worth a lot to me too,” he whispered back.

“Where were you,” Remus asked when he returned to the Gryffindor common room. “We looked on the map, but we couldn’t find you.”

“And we couldn’t find Y/N either.” James fought the urge to correct them and say that they shouldn’t use your first name like that. That he had worked for your friendship to stop calling you by your last name.

“Do I owe you a galleon now?” Sirius popped up from behind him. “What? No,” James said, thinking of another subject to talk about, wanting to ignore the existence of the bet in the first place.

“I was hanging out with Y/N,” he admitted. “But because we're friends now.”

“Yeah, but where were you hanging out?” Peter asked. “Because we weren’t allowed to leave Hogwarts today.”

“Did you find another secret passage?” Sirius gasped and James immediately shook his head to deny it. “Oh come on, we’re your friends, you have to tell us!”

Remus watched James shift uncomfortably and tried to intervene. “Let him be, Padfoot.” Sirius wasn’t having it though, and when James said that he promised not to tell, he responded with, “What, you value your fake friendship with that stick-up-her-ass girl more than us?”

“It’s not a fake friendship,” he weakly fought back. “Don’t call her that.”

Sirius sighed. “I’m sorry Prongs. I didn’t mean to call her that, hell I don’t even know the girl, she’s probably alright. But you’re keeping secrets, it’s not fair.”

You stared in disbelief at the marauder who wasn’t James, having a hook-up in your wardrobe. When he noticed you in the entrance, Sirius merely held his hand up at you in a greeting. “Thanks for letting me borrow this, this is the best spot for not getting caught.”

You backed away and slammed the door shut. James.

“Potter!” you yelled at him when you saw him leave the Gryffindor chambers. Your face was contorted in anger and you were seething.

He looked up at you, happy feeling in his chest and he was itching to show you the paper behind his back.

You stabbed your finger in his chest, effectively wiping the happy grin on his face off. “You promised,” you hissed. James immediately knew what you were talking about. “I’m sorry, I had to tell him,” he tried to justify his actions and you scoffed. “Fuck you,” you spat and walked off.

James stood there, frozen and stared at the empty spot in front of him. His arms hung by his side and he looked down at his essay which wore a big ‘O’ mark and right next to it in Professor McGonagall’s handwriting, ‘Keep this brilliant work up, Mr. Potter.’

James was watching you, sulking. He had made such progress and now it felt as if all those baby steps were for nothing, instead taking eight long strides back. You had closed yourself off again and James was too intimidated by your glares every time he walked in your direction, so he would change directions last minute every time you burned a hole through his head with your eyes.

‘This is so stupid’ he thought to himself when his body automatically steered him away from you again. He mustered up all of his courage and headed straight for you. He would rather face your wrath head on than go back to being strangers. Especially when tomorrow was free period again.

“Is it okay if I talk to you for a moment?” he asked, nervous.

You scanned him up and down. Everything about him looked remorseful, from his posture to dull eyes to his tone when he asked you if he could have a word. You waved at him to take a seat next to you, and he gratefully took the opportunity.

“I’m sorry. I swore I wouldn’t tell and I did and I shouldn’t have. I would go back in time and stop past me from telling Sirius, but I can’t, but I also don’t want to lose you because I meant what I said. This friendship is worth so much to me.” James took a deep breath. “So please let me make amends?” he finished.

“Okay.”

James blinked. “Okay?” he dumbly repeated.

“That’s what I said.”

“Wait, so that’s it? No grovelling? No conditions?”

“Would you like me to add conditions?”

“I mean..” James stuttered. “Sure?”

“Fine. Consider this your second chance , even though it technically is your third after your horrid behaviour towards my friends. It’s also your last.” You said that last part sharply. “Do you accept those terms?”

James nodded in relief and agreed. It was only when he laid in bed at night that he realised that he should’ve probably gotten clean on the matter of the bet right when he had the chance. He was on his last chance after all. But it would be alright. He would simply call off the bet and then it would be as if nothing ever happened. No one had to know, no one had to get hurt.

He waited after Transfiguration and grinned at you when you made your way to him. He had really looked forward to spending time with you again at your spot. Even if the marauders knew its location now, too.

“Lead the way, Y/N.”

“I am,” you retorted with a hint of amusement in your voice. James grinned and followed you, only noticing after a while that you were walking around on the third floor instead of the seventh. “Did you find a new spot?” he curiously asked.

“Yes. And no.” James huffed at your vagueness, imploring you to explain. “Let’s just say that Dumbledore got himself off my blacklist.” You turned the corner and moved a portrait to the side. James knew of the passageway. It was moist in there and cold so it hadn’t interested him and his friends very much. But behind the door you just opened, stood your wardrobe.

He looked at it, amazed. “You got Dumbledore to move a wardrobe for you?” he asked incredulously. You slyly smiled but didn’t say anything except for “I did the cleaning myself.”

“So what’s going on with you and James,” Lily curiously asked you. You shrugged and brought your water bottle to your lips. “Kept bothering me into a friendship, I guess.”

Lily laughed. “Well, whatever keeps him away from me,” she joked and you let out an audible laugh. She leaned in towards you. “But if he’s no longer fighting for my attention, but yours, I think it might mean that he fancies you.”

You choked on your water. “Most certainly not!” You strictly assured her and composed yourself. Lily laughed. “No need to get so defensive over his feelings. You make it seem as if I suggested that you fancied him,” she said, chuckling. You turned your head away and she gasped. “Do you fancy him?”

“What’s with all this gossiping and boys talk,” you grumbled, unpleased. “But for the record, I don’t think so.” You stuck your nose up.

“You don’t think so?” Lily repeated. “What do you mean?”

“I gravely appreciate him and I feel very comforted in his presence. We’re friends. It doesn’t mean I fancy him.” You answered. “Besides, I’ve never fancied anyone. Not sure I know what it’s like.”

“Okay, how would you feel if he starts dating someone, right now?”

You pondered over the question for a bit. “I guess he can do whatever he wants, but don’t expect me to share our spot with some random girl,” you said, the last part coming out more bitter than you expected. Huh. ‘Did you fancy James Potter?’ you wondered.

“I fancy her,” James told his friends while they were out in Hogsmeade.

“L/N?” Peter asked. James nodded in affirmation. “Well damn Prongs,” Sirius started. “What happened?”

“Y/N and I are good, I think. We fit and it feels amazing. It seems surprising, but we can talk for hours or sit in silence together without it being weird at all. Everything is comfortable with her, in like the good way,” James struggled to express all his feelings about you.

Sirius whistled. “Almost envious of you, Prongs. What about Evans though?”

James shrugged. “Not the kind of dynamic I want.”

“So are you going to tell her?” Remus asked. James puffed his chest. “Of course. I’m not shy about my feelings. I publicly chased after Lily for years,” he reasoned. But despite his big words, he felt like a nervous wreck. Because what if you rejected him?

James found you in the library. “Is now a good time?” he asked. You sat up straight. Last night, you had done a lot of thinking and came to the conclusion that yes, you fancied James Potter. “Yes, actually. I wanted to talk to you,” you replied. You got up and and started to gather your belongings. James grabbed your books for you and you left the library.

“I fancy you.”

James blinked. Were his ears deceiving him? Were you joking? Did you have a bet of your own going on with someone?

“I’m sorry?” he managed to get out, his voice an octave higher than usual.

“I fancy you,” you stated again. Matter of factly. “I came to the realisation yesterday and they do say honesty is the best policy.” James laughed softly at your sad attempt to lessen the awkward atmosphere.

“I actually wanted to talk to you to say the same thing,” he breathed out in a relieved manner. You stared at him in surprise. Okay. Definitely not what you expected.

“So you fancy me.” You repeated to make sure.

“And you fancy me.” James nodded.

“Do you want to go out with me?” you asked.

James’ heart leaped. He had spent so much time asking that question, he realised that how amazing it felt to hear the question directed at him. He grinned. “Glad you asked, darling. Yes, I’ll go out with you.” He reached out to you carefully wrapped an arm around you. You fully leaned into him in a hug and breathed him in.

“Think our relationship just went up in value.” You mumbled, your words slightly muffled by your face, hidden in his sweater.

You felt him laugh. “Well, we upgraded from friends to couple. How much are we worth now?”

You pretended to think about it. “We’re worth all the money in Gringotts bank.”

“That’s a lot of money,” he hummed.

You had taken James out on a date in the middle of the Gryffindor Quidditch stands at night, after curfew. James was the first to lean in and kiss you and when he did, he practically melted into you, your arms slung over his broad shoulders. He’d muttered something about how lucky he was and you’d told him that he better know it, before admitting that you felt the same way.

After you had left him several hickeys, scattered across his neck, he had insisted on returning the favour. He was only on his second when you two were interrupted by Filch, who had spotted you two. You two ran off to the third floor and decided to hide out in your wardrobe until he was gone all while continuing making out. You and James fell asleep in that position. You on your back on the couch, James draped over you like a weighted blanket with his face nuzzled in your throat, and your legs entangled.

Though very surprised at first, your fellow Hogwarts students quickly got used to the idea of you and James in a relationship. It wasn’t long before you were walking down the corridors together, James hand on your lower back and inching lower. You shot him a warning glare and he bit his check when he splayed his hand over your ass with a cheeky smile. You elbowed him in the ribs, earning a huff and let your hand rest on his ass in turn.

Everything was perfect, which is of course why everything had to become a disaster very quickly. James wasn’t even sure how such a perfect night had turned so horrible. One moment, you were partying, everything had been great, and he had been envisioning you and him for the rest of your lives, and the next, he was pleading with you through a locked door.

“Y/N, we can call you Y/N right?” Sirius had drunkenly slurred. You had rolled your eyes at his antics, but nodded. Though you would never admit it out loud, you appreciated the elder Black.

“I like you. We all like you and we’re happy that it’s you and not Evans anymore,” he mumbled on and he stumbled over his own feet, barely reacting in time to not drop to the floor.

You internally smiled at his words.

“I’m sorry that I was an asshole to you. You’re really great. If I had known, I wouldn’t have targeted your friend group for pranks or risked your feelings by making you part of a stupid bet.”

It was as if the world stopped spinning for a moment, music only barely in the background. “A bet?” you spoke in a dangerously low voice.

Sirius seemed to catch on to your change in demeanour and sobered up at an incredible rate. “Shit, no-“

But you had already turned around to find James, Sirius stumbling behind you to try and stop you.

“How much?” you spat out angrily when you found him. The music was luckily loud enough to hide your argument from other students.

James looked at you, confused. “How much?”

“How much are we worth?”

James frowned at you question. “All the money in Gringotts bank,” he calmly answered you and moved to embrace you, thinking you were just very drunk.

You pushed him away and he stumbled a few steps back.

“No,” you hoarsely responded. “That’s how much I think we’re worth. How much did you bet on me.”

James’ blood ran cold. “I-“ His words opened and closed like a fish. “Because the amount better have been fucking worth it, James,” you cut him off.

“Darling-“

You felt numb. “How little?”

“A galleon.”

You nodded and stepped back. “I was wrong,” you shakily breathed out. “You, James Potter, are still cruel.”

James chased you. “Wait, please,” he begged. You ran out of the room, towards the third floor and into the wardrobe hidden behind the door behind the portrait.

James followed you and pulled on the knob to open the wardrobe that you had locked. He sunk down against the doors and took a deep breath.

He had to explain. He had to let you know that you meant everything to him. And that everything was real. Honesty is the best policy after all, right?

“I’m sorry. Darling, I am so sorry. It’s so stupid how it happened. They were saying that I couldn’t get anyone to go out with me and then I accidentally hurt you with the soup incident, so Sirius bet with me that I couldn’t get anyone you to go out with me. I was never planning on hurting you, I swear,“ James rambled.

“I wanted to apologize and make up for your hand anyway. Not that it was out of pity or anything,” he immediately added.

“I did think you were beautiful. I did want to talk to you. And when you rejected me at first, yes, I did want to prove Sirius wrong. But then you were everything. I wanted so desperately to be friends with you because you were right. The bet was stupid, but it was never about money. It was never even about you per se, but I’m so fucking happy that it ended up being you, because I’m in love with you. Please believe me.”

You sucked in a breath at his words. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

James jumped at your voice from the other side of the door. “I wanted to, I really did. But I had already screwed up once and you weren’t going to give me anymore chances, so I thought that if I just never told you and called of the bet, pretending it never happened, I could keep you.” He leaned back against the door, eyes tightly shut. “And if we break up, then I don’t regret it, because the past months with you were perfect,” he whispered.

The door abruptly opened from inside out and he stumbled back, having leaned against it. He looked up at you, hovering above him. He knew you. He knew how to read you and right now, you needed space. “I’ll wait for you,” he said, hesitantly and left you alone.

You needed your friends right now.

When James didn’t see you the next day, he accepted that you didn’t want to see him. But by now, almost an entire week had passed and James and his friends were itching to apologize to you at least once more. He decided to ask Lily where you were and was absolutely not prepared for her answer.

“She went to Beauxbatons.” Lily pursed her lips at the boy in front of her in disdain. She knew what had happened but couldn’t help but pity him a little bit when he looked at her like that. Devastated.

James’ world stopped and for a moment he thought he couldn’t breathe. Did you leave? Had he managed to push you away to a whole different school? He thanked Lily for her answer and sat down at his own desk in a daze. His body moved on autopilot for the next few days. He was falling into a routine that he didn’t like.

During free periods, he hid out in the wardrobe, face up towards the ceiling as he imagined you were lying in his arms right then.

You had been gone for a week and a half and had returned to Hogwarts. Feeling lighter in your heart and decisive steps carrying you towards the Gryffindor Quidditch stands, right on time for the match.

You saw James and your heart jumped. He looked good. He had definitely looked better before, but all in all, he looked good. You bit your lip, suddenly insecure and doubting his promise to wait for you. Another twenty points for Gryffindor and admired James from the distance.

When you had arrived at Beauxbatons, you had wallowed in self pity for a day or two before your friends had pulled you out of it and reasoned with you. Surprisingly on James’ behalf.

You knew they were right. You were madly in love with James and he was undoubtedly madly in love with you too. Though it had all started off as a bet, how could you stay upset when it only brought you and James together.

James eyes scanned through the crowd, automatically trailing to the spot where you two had been sitting and kissed during your first date. He had to do a double take when he saw you in the crowds and almost fell off his broomstick when he rubbed his eyes with both hands to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

He started making his way towards you when his eyes locked onto the golden snitch. His eyes flickered between you and the snitch, but you had seen it too, so you flashed him a grin. His shoulders relaxed, and he started the chase.

“Darling?” James appeared in the doorway to the boy’s changing rooms.

“James,” you nodded. You were smiling at him, and your warm, inviting tone had him move forward until you were within reach.

“I’ve missed you so much, I thought I lost you.”

“Hm, you’re just lucky that I really really love you too.” You sassed back. James was in front of you in two big steps. “Yeah?” he asked a twinkle in his eye. “Just like that? No grovelling? No conditions?”

You kissed him. “Would you like me to include grovelling?” you laughed at him.

“Yeah actually. You see, I’ve already prepared at least eight different ways to make up to you.”

He pressed his lips to yours again.

“Get a room!” Sirius yelled and you shot him a sour look. He held up his hands in surrender, a shit eating grin still present on his face.

“Fine, but don’t expect your captain back for the celebratory party. He’s mine tonight,” you shot back.

“And every other night, I hope?” James coyly smiled at you. You shook your head in amusement and dragged him away, hand slipping to rest on his ass, his own hand finding its way to yours.

“Lead the way, Darling.”

@elsie-bells @charlie-weasley-is-underrated @dreamingofmarauders @moonyslibrary98 @wildernessflora @hollandweather @queerqueenlynn @locklyebrainrot @thisrandombitch @moonys0chocolate @grac3aph3lion @someonesuggestmeaname @mel-yldrm @yrseline @apiec @earfquak3 @yourvvenicebitch @venomsvl @leyla-ravenclaw @spacedangel @darrarii @shrekscrustybudassy @unsleptwriter @middle-of-the-earth @sirene-noir @bettytaylorversion @littlepoisonmushroom @faumpje @iloveutwice @katelebate @moonysupremacy01 @marina468 @fangirl-kimora @bellesowl @badasswlthafatass @sjprongs

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deesseshesca · 2 months ago

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PAC : How can u express your affection to your partner while having sex ? (18+)

Oh...Today drain me...

Good evening pretty souls ! I am so excited ... IS OFFICIALLY KINKTOBER ! DAY : 17-18

You want to have a more detailed readings (for 2.22$), you can join my Chérie d'Amour (soul tribe)

SEX Doula =SALE READING

PILE 1

Strenght (reverse), knight of wands (reverse),8 cups, 9 pentacles

You guys are very photogenic. Your friends love taking pictures of you and may even do it without you knowing. Y’all are very aesthetically pleasing people. On the other hand, y’all can’t not take a good picture to save yourself. You are incapable of finding the angle or even placing the phone properly, worse than boomers for some. Which ends up pissing off your friends. Y’all are not tech savvy. We are lucky you even know how to use your phone.

The way you show your affection is by having no control on the relationship. Wherever the flow brings y’all, you cool with it. You don’t care for labels and you are down for literally anything. Don’t care and you will never care for the title ‘’ relationship’’, you don’t mind being ‘’just friends’’ forever. You guys can move in together, fuck each other cuddle, go to hopsital appointment and share y’all deepest secret and even convince a kid with no title. You will not have shame or even be scared to explain your situation to people around you because you don’t mind how unorthodox it is. That being said for technicalities, you will allow your partner to explore sexual endeavors with other people. Even allowing them to hold their own independence meaning living in the same house but sleeping in different bedrooms. If y’all share an abundance with each other, you can share a mansion. Like the east side is yours and the south side is his/hers. You will show your affection by holding no taboo against them. They can possess any sex toys; they might even introduce you to their sex dolls, if they feel like it. Y’all may not even have sex at all… some of y’all is giving lavender marriage. Maybee ? I don’t know ? I have no clear indication of such but the way I am writing it, it sure sounds like it. Another way to show your affection is by accepting their belief, y’all may have different religion or practice. Lastly you may show your affection by not expecting anything material from them (which lowkey breaks one of the principles of Lavender marriage …). You don’t expect a ring, a car, or even roses on valentine day’s. All things said , it is really a show of going with the flow. If they decide to do it, you don’t mind doing it too. If they dim all the little gestures unnecessary then so do you. Ultimately your ‘’ no pressure’’ attitude is going to be the best way you show affection to them which can simulate their sexual appetite.

💌 : FIND OUT, How your partner use their fingers in the bedroom ? on Ko-fi.

PILE 2

Queen swords, 4 swords, 7 pentacles (reverse), 2 pentacles

Y’all are adopted. Y’all were in the system until 10 years old ( max ) then your life took another turn for the best. You always loved your adoptive family. They always welcomed you and poured into you. The whole family is always showering you with gifts, affection and support but you need an answer. You got them, you quickly realize that you dodge the bullet. Your biological family may be very abusive.

The way you show your affection with your partner in a sexual setting starts with foreplay. You may indulge in giving your full attention to them. You are the perfect boyfriend/girlfriend for nerds. You will let them rant bout all the rules in the new fantasy world in which they are obese about while giving them the ‘’fuck me’’ eyes. You have beautiful brown eyes with stars in them when you are looking at something that you love. Sex apart, they love the way you look at them. You make them feel like the most loved human being with only a look from you. The appreciation, tenderness, passion all of it in the iris of your eyes is making them love sick. Back to the sex, the way you listen and UNDERSTAND (at least try) make them feel fucking special. You even go as far as engaging in conversation with them which they looooove. Even when you are clumsy with the concept of a subject you don’t get mad when they correct you. Artists would be the perfect pair for you too. Not only are you the perfect muse (we are going to get into it later…) but you are a smart one. You don’t mind diving into the critics of philosopher, you don’t mind debating who is the best musician of the Renaissance, you don’t mind sitting down and letting your partner paint your back when they are overstimulated and you don’t mind listening to your partner singing for hours until they find perfect note. You have the patience of a God and that makes them want to give it all to you. Honestly you love discussing and especially debating because that’s why you turn on. So everything I listed is something they naturally do and everything is a way to get your panties wet/cock hard. Yes, paint on bareback and let your hand caress. Yes, sing to me how good I make you feel in between the sheets. Yes, debate the principle of Aristotle with me and show your passion. I love how you are trying to make your point while at the same focusing on my juicy lips. Ok! Pile 2, your energy fully took over for a minute. Another way you show your affection is by making sure they reach their orgasm. It doesn't matter if they are tired after going hammers into you and making you cum at least 3 times.It doesn't matter if you are worn out. You need them to cum or you are dying … Ok a bit dramatic… (I feel like y’all are natural drama queen/king). You will give them a handjob or you will rub their clit. You will do what is require for with the power still left in you to deliver your duty (Like I said fucking dramatic). Plus you will love to dive into the pleasure of a long intensive edging session, y’all can go for weeks edging. Playing with each other without actually reaching the sinful need of the body. Building the orgasm with each other and not cheating even when you are really really really horny. Is almost a principle of respect for you. Lastly, you are acceptive of them in the bedroom. You don’t shame them for their kinks, you encourage them to go for it. You allow an open and affectionate communication for y’all to discuss y'all fantasy, kinks , experience, need, want, desire, etc…

💌 : Also don't feel bad because you have leaned on your partner through out the whole quest to your roots adventure. While you were trying to puzzle the truth regarding your identity, your partner felt needed and not at all annoyed. So relief yourself from that guilt. They are fine. FIND OUT, How your partner use their fingers in the bedroom ? on Ko-fi.

PILE 3

9 wands (reverse), 2 cups, Knight wands, Tower (reverse)

Y’all are going through it mentally. You are deep in a depression rut. Y’all are victime of sexual harassment and you are healing. Is not as bad as it was but you know… sometimes the voice gets loud all over again. I am sending all the love I can,your way. You and I know it is going to get better and that the worse will pass. You just need to hang in there until you find the pace and you power back again. You knew your ex before y’all became a couple. He was a good friend when the accident happened and he came back into your life. He did not mean to leave you, you know we get busy with life and distance gets created. Naturally the Divine opens a path for you to welcome them back into your life. Then you open up and it was good and got very bad again. So you decide to cut the relationship so you can heal some more without being a burden. They are going insane Pile 3. Don’t get me wrong, they are respecting your choice. But I have the vision of someone tearing up while doing their homework. Everytime they get back into their apartment at the end of the day, they literally get in a fetus position for a good 5 minutes reminiscing about you. They pray often which is ironic since they never believe in God or anything like that. Begging them to give them your pain and leaving you alone. That you suffer enough. The tears also are not something they do. Is not that they are emotionally available, they are just very masculine .

This section of the reading is from their POV .

They love making love to you. They love caressing you. They love your cellulite. They love your small boobs, they love your stomach, they love your thick tights ( I’m so sorry but I need to say that I am fucking rooting for them. Out here pushing through the tears to deliver the message. Ironic, I rarely get REALLY emotional. If only you could feel what I am feeling …) and they love your hair (another message came through, One of your ex told you he hurted you because you were ugly and that he cheated because he loved blond … your man (I know y’all are not together but I am FUCKING rooting fo them) is screaming : I LOVE YOUR BROWN HAIR !). They kissed every part of you because they wished to make all the bad memories go away. They wish they could erase any trace of your abuser away. Is not about lust, it is all about the true passion that goes straight to their dick when they see you. Is not about owning you or winning you over. Is about protecting you and giving you the love you always deserve. They love having sex with you. When y’all were together, you could not keep y’all hands off each other. In a fucked up way you brain twisted that damm information (swear I am not mad at your brain, she is a victim too. So she is doing anything in her power to protect herself) making you feel that they only want you because of sex. Because that’s all a man can ever want from you. That’s all you are good for. You are undeserving of love because you are broken good ( Yes… Is me … again … YOU ARE NOT FUCKING BROKEN GOOD ! YOU HEARD ME ! You better tell your brain to get her shit together real quick. Is going to take time but let’s start by dropping the concept that you are damaged goods. I don’t want you to EVER think that.) The reality is they love you so much they can’t resist you. The mere fact that they can indulge in your affection is their biggest blessing. They are so grateful (Going back to their prayers, they are grateful that the Divine kept you alive and safe until you came back to them) that they get to share intimate moments with you. That you even let them see you in that seductive light. There’s nothing you can, God can do, I can do that's going to stop them from going back to you. There’s nothing that happens to you no matter how bad it is, that’s going to disgust them . There's nothing you can do that’s going to make them run away. Ever since you came back into their life, the flowers bloom, the sun shines and the birds chip. You brought the color back into their life. You brought joy to the mundane. Sex with you is an explosion of good feelings, fireworks even. They love sliding into you, seeing your face twisting in pleasure not in pain. A pleasure they are giving you and a pain they are protecting you from, safe in his presence . They often push you to keep your eyes focused on them because they want you to see you are safe. You are loved and you choose a good one proving you it was never your fault. Nothing you could have done was worth that punishment.

***BONUS***

How can you cope with your sexual wound ?

Spirit has an extra message dedicated to you.

The ultimate problem of this relationship is the perception of yourself. Before we get any further, I am not here to hurt you (Trust me, I understand you more than you think). You need to contextualize what happened to you. Maybe you are not ready to get help, maybe you are not ready to talk about… fuck maybe you just not ready to deal with it but you need to realize that he is not him. I understand that your brain wants to protect you from all the ‘’him’’. Maybe repeat to yourself out loud, ‘’ (His name) is not my enemy. He is my true lover’’ everyday while you're taking a shower. When you are caressing your body with soap, remind her, she is ok with (his name). Is important that you precise the name for your body to understand that only him at least with him everything is alright. You need to find a way to make your brain and body understand that he is your protector and lover. Because your soul knows he is home. You may not know about the rest and you got hurt by the rest but him… never him … he is all love. I know you are suffering but keeping him away is killing y'all more than you think. I am not telling you to break your boundaries or get back with him, now. You can shoot him a text. Small text here and there, telling him, you are ok , you ate. It can even be random as you telling him you are watching your favorite TV show. Let your brain get used to craving intimacy at a healthy pace. Plus it will greatly ease his mind. Please stop dissociating while you are having sex (Bestie speaking from experience, don’t do it because it can become a habit … when that happens … you will try anything to go back to feeling something …), if you feel like you can’t do it, express it. I don’t care if you are in the middle of an act. I don’t care if you feel horny but you got triggered. I DON’T CARE … take a break, regulate your nervous system and come back. Last let yourself heal, there’s no race when it come to this fuck up mess. Stop comparing yourself to your past and let yourself discover the new you, who survive one of the most terrorizing situations. Much love Chérie d’Amour, you got this and I DO … love you.

💌 : FIND OUT, How your partner use their fingers in the bedroom ? on Ko-fi.

#tarot #tarot reading #tarotcommunity #divination #tarot cards #pac #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a pile #18+ tarot #future lover #love reading #kinktober

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rsatoru · 4 months ago

Text

bbzzzz bzzzzzztttt...

your phone has been buzzing over the coffee table for two minutes. two minutes and 14 seconds.

sigh

you rise from the table—the very table overflowing with godforsaken paperwork the godforsaken higher-ups have assigned you to finish. you’re trying to focus and get everything finished as soon as possible, but the obnoxiously person trying to call you on the phone wouldn’t let you right now.

͏͏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀toruru !! ^_^ (ate ur cookies) (do not answer.)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ringing . . . ✆ ⠀⠀⠀ 1:27 pm⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀answer ၊ decline

of course, it’s no other than your idiot of a boyfriend

clicking the answer button, cause who are you to resist him anyways? . . . “satoru.” you say unimpressed. “baby!! :D” the cheerful voice on the other side exclaims.

“aren’t you supposed to be on a mission right now?”

“uhuh,” satoru scoffs, “’m on the same mission you forced me to go because you hate me so much!”

“satoru, sigh it’s your job, your responsibility. you can’t just ditch an order from principle yaga because you wanna stay at home cuddling me.” you respond

“can’t a man just have some quality time with his dearest girlfriend in peace?” satoru whines over the phone

“toru, baby,”

“fine.. :(” oh, you were so sure you could almost hear his smile turn into a frown. that being said, “why’d you call?” asking, looking back over at your unfinished paperwork, oh the higher ups might just beat your ass.

dating satoru means also having to deal with his long phone calls. you’re aware you could easily just hang up on him, but unfortunately for you, sometimes you don’t even realize you got too caught up in the moment. you love him too much, too much you can effortlessly handle his obnoxiously long phone calls—and he doesn’t even talk about anything important or necessary! and you think, maybe, you’re just as down bad as he is for you.

“oh yeah! heh, sorry babe, your voice made my mind go blank.” — “you’ll never guess what kind of technique these so called first grade cursed spirits have!” and he asks you to turn your camera on—in which you did-

revealing a bunch of cats spawning and jumping everywhere “look at the kind of domain expansion this guy has!” satoru was in an innate domain with cats just swarming the area. satoru called you to show he was in an innate domain with cats just swarming the area. because he knew.

“oh my gosh.” you say in shock. staring at whatever is happening in your screen. “toru toru! bring me one! maybe that one or or-” the cats were so cute. you absolutely loved cats. you adored them, each and every one you’ve ever seen. whether they were strays on the street or pampered pets, they were all just so adorable.

because he knew you absolutely loved cats.

these cats though, were aggressive. aggressively cute though—trying so hard to scratch your boyfriend which was impossible, all attacks were effortlessly blocked by his infinity.

“uhhh, uhhh.. no can do sweets. just look at these sly pussies trying to scratch my glorious face! i can’t let them do that to your even-more-glorious face. they’re dangerous! can’t let them hurt my baby.” he responses.

“uhm, no. you’re just rambling satoru. they’d love me.” you retort. satoru was more of a dog person—he doesn’t know such shit about cats. he doesn’t like them. but you teach him anyways; how to properly hold them, what kind food you shouldn’t feed them, etc etc,

and he actually listens.

“no baby! anyways, you know that guy over there? yeah, him. he can create pizza with cursed energy and throw it at me! it’s surprisingly strong to be fair.. but y’know they stand no chance against me.” there goes his ego as always.

“anyways—what kind of pizza do you want? tell me which toppings and i gotchu baby.”

“so you’re telling me, you’d rather get me pizza, imbued with cursed energy, which you say is pretty strong, but not cats?” you hiss, raising a brow over the phone.

“uhhhh... yeah? ( ' ⩊ '𖦹)”

this is so dumb tbh but i jst had pizza for dinner i couldn’t not think about my glorious king

#𓇼 ׂ #( ꩜ rury closet ★#⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀#i miss him 💔#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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artsninspo · 3 months ago

Text

FORGIVELESS - I - NOT IN THE DARK ANYMORE 🌒

➨ rio's library - good girl nbc

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

I - Not in the dark anymore

Author's Note: Record scratch … I was working through some writer's block when this concept came to me. Instead of letting it pass here it is. I can promise part two because it’s already outlined.

Pairing: Rio X Reader

Word Count: 2K

Warning: Mature themes and mentions of cheating.

Summary: What is supposed to be a romantic date night with your husband quickly descends to a night of nightmares after meeting a charismatic entrepreneur named Rio with what you perceive to be an uncanny insight on your current situation.

Rio scans the floor of his newest business endeavour. He’s been successful at counterfeiting but now he needs new ways to wash his money. His bars had been doing so good he decided to move into the restaurant business. While notoriously fickle he didn't have the same financial restraints as other new owners. It only took him six months to find his foothold in the industry and now he had one of the city's most in demand establishments for special occasions. Looking around he spots a gentleman who was in the last time he’s stopped by to check on things. Looking across from the man he sees you sitting all done up. He needed strong attention to detail in his line of work. It was a safety precaution but your body language brings the situation into full view. Sitting back he looks under the table only to have his suspicions confirmed. The other woman had her foot up halfway to your dates crotch under the table.

“Table twelve seems familiar” he mutters to his general manager.

“Ahh, he was with a different girl. Excellent tip” His GM responds and Rio takes another look locating the ring set on your left hand. You were the wife.

“Decline all his reservations moving forward. I don’t care how well he tips. Only friends should be here that often.” Rio says watching closely. He had his principles in business and in life. There were simply some things men didn't do. Bringing their girlfriends to the city's best restaurants before their wives was top of mind.

“Done” the GM says as Rio makes his way into the back to look at the accounting. Everything needed to be in perfect working order for things to work. The restaurant would be a stepping stone to more. Food had never been a passion of his but he could sell an experience to people who wanted to pretend for a few hours. Besides, it had cost him virtually nothing and turned a huge profit every week. He steps out tucking his weekly take home pay behind the bar, walking around it to be served a drink. You're in his perfect line of sight. He watches you reach for your husband as he gets up, throwing cash down onto the table and kissing you goodbye. He watches you sigh and watch as he leaves. Shaking his head he turns back to his glass.

“Hey can you give the waiter this. I was sitting over there” Rio hears turning to you.

Fuck, shes bad.

His thoughts run the gamut as he looks you over. Thinking back to the other woman he rakes through his memory for her. She had nothing on you besides maybe being slightly younger.

“Thank you” hears cluing back into the conversation you're having with his bartender.

“I’ll have the third course brought to the bar” the bartender says with a smile.

“Perfect” you nod, sending him a smile.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Rio asks, looking you over. Turning, you are startled by a second by the handsome stranger wildly underdressed for the establishment.

“My husband took care of it thanks” you smile, making him do the same. He’s handsome.

“My husband took care of it” He mocks, chuckling to himself more amused than anything else. “Where is he?” Rio says bringing a glass to his lips.

“Something came up at work” you respond.

She believes the lie too. Rio smiles to himself looking up at the clock, “What, does he deliver babies? Is the hospital short staffed?”

“No, he’s a consultant with a global clientele. You know time zones” you explain.

“Time Zones couldn't keep me off my wife on a Friday night if she looked like you.” Rio comments. Your cheeks burn at the forward implications just as the third course is placed in front of you.

“Compliments of the chef,” the server smiles.

“Thanks” you smile. It looks great.

“Is it good?” Rio asks after a few minutes.

“Mhm” you nod weary of the flirtatious stranger.

“Which time zone clients do I have to thank for this?” Rio asks, pointing between the two of you.

“Japan” you respond.

“To Japan” Rio raises a glass. “Rio, by the way,” he says, holding out a hand.

“Y/N” you respond, shaking his hand.

“Y/N you’re too trusting” Rio says stirring the pot.

“If you want to keep this pleasant please don't disrespect my marriage” you respond and Rio raises his hands.

“Boss, can I get you anything?” the GM says as he sees Rio at the bar.

“Good thanks,” Rio nods.

Looking at him suddenly his simple attire makes sense. Simple and all black was classic and understated in spite of the black tie dress code. Clearly no one was sending him home and the restaurant's food was never on delivery menus. Owner. Not a service professional. You nod to yourself impressed with his accomplishment.

“You own this place?” you ask and he nods reluctantly.

“A few more lowkey spots around the city as well”

You offer cordial conversation.“Congrats, the food is good and it was hell to get reservations”

“Not for Y/N, not anymore.” he smirks and you shake your head. Rio laughs a little, he can't remember the last time he had to try so hard. Clearly you’d signed up for a lifetime of attention and here he was taking up for your husband's shortcomings.

“How kind” your tone is laced with sarcasm.

“I’m not kind, when you realise your man ain't shit you should eat good and stay fine. Do it here where I can see it. If you need to hire someone to beat his ass on your behalf come see me and I got you. I know people.” he says so cavalier it's off putting. There’s no more smirk and you feel slightly queasy in your stomach.

“That’s not funny” you frown.

“I don’t think so either but there’s a very short list of things that could make me leave you at the table. Work isn't one of them, Love” he mutters. Deep down you know he’s right. Something isn't right with your husband James. Recently work has taken precedent. His promotion has been taking all of his attention leaving very little to you. To make matters worse you moved here away from your family, friends and support system to be his. He’d been reluctant to have you move and has put very little time into helping you adjust to the move along with spending quality time. Work has affected all facets of your life including his libido. It was why Rio was practically foaming at the mouth with dilated pupils at the sight of you. It was a three hour process and special creation to set the mood for the night but James hadn’t reacted how you wanted him to. Japan had been at the forefront of his mind. He’d checked his phone more times than you found necessary before getting a call. He spent five minutes in the washroom before coming back and telling you he needed to rush to the office. Reaching forward you wave for the bartender.

“I've lost my appetite. Please thank the waiter” you smile standing from the bar stool. He nods and Rio rises at the same time. His hands go into his pockets following you out as all the staff bid the ‘boss’ goodbye. You hand the valet your ticket first and yet somehow Rio’s G-Wagon appears before your car. He smirks, having made an impression. When your car rolls around Rio gets the door after the valet gets out.

“I’m at the Clique most weekends. Sevens bar during the week, in case you need a man handled. Drive safe, Love” he says once you're in the driver's seat and buckled in. You wonder why you havent told him to fuck off yet until you see an eerie honesty in his eyes.

Your drive home is in complete silence with the exception of your signals and the natural sounds of the road. You feel too unsettled to relax. Once in your house you have to stop yourself from walking a track across your living room rug. You take a bath which does not work to settle your nerves. You brew valerian root tea when all else fails and there is still no peace. You lay in your marital bed tossing and turning until you hear the garage. It’s after three in the morning. You contemplate your options and hear James coming up the stairs ten minutes later. You slow your breath and close your eyes pretending to be asleep. The door opens and he enters walking straight into the ensuite bathroom. Silent tears roll down your eyes. He gets in bed without giving you any affection allowing your mind to run wild. Your alarm wakes you at 7am and you head downstairs to prepare his breakfast for his day ahead. Saturday mornings and afternoons are for golf and client relations. You throw something together quickly and head upstairs to find him in the shower. You spot his phones on the nightstand and grab his personal device.

You try a few passcodes when his work phone starts buzzing. Forfeiting his personal device something drives you to check his work phone. You unlock the phone from memory and scroll through his messages. There are client names you recognize, all with flags attached to them. A message from Japan comes in and you open it only for your stomach to fall.

You scroll for what feels like forever screen recording quickly as you make it up to three weeks. Heartbroken you airdrop yourself the evidence before breaking into his personal phone with new conviction. You nearly drop it when you see nudes and explicit messages. Your hand is trembling as you hear the water stop. You delete your screen recordings from the work phone, locking both devices and laying them as they were. Your hearts in your ass, your eyes stinging as tears threaten to fall. You walk into your office screaming into a pillow. Unable to act like all is well you stay put in there. James shouts you a goodbye before leaving. You pull up the security footage and scroll as far back as you can see. Your only consolation is he hasnt brought the whore back to your home. Still, it doesn't erase the intimacy of the messages. It doesn't erase the deceit and callousness of his lies and actions. It doesn't erase your heartache or the fact that he’s been lying heartlessly for months. Doesn’t negate the truth of his libido being well and intact, not for you but for her.

You sit for hours in a daze ignoring your daily routine before deciding to head to the spa. Heading upstairs you take off your rings, unable to wear the gifts from such a low down asshole. A manicure, pedicure, sauna and a full body massage doesnt bring you any reprieve. You still feel terrible as clarity dawns. You get the full picture of his betrayal. The pain is too much. Eight years together, five married and this is what it's come to. The visual of his mistress pleasuring herself is etched into your mind, along with the messages between them. Worst of all was the most recent. The mistress thanking your husband for blowing you off to care for her needs. Sitting in the lot of the spa after hours you punch the steering wheel before leaning into it and honking until you’ve stopped screaming.

Anger wins. Visualising James in the hospital brings you more peace than everything else you've tried. Looking in his eyes pretending to be shocked and concerned while being the root of his current predicament is the kind of sweet karma that allows you to exhale for the first time in hours. Hospital visits because you got him fucked up for his indiscretion. After years of being whatever he wanted whenever. Without even a heads up or him expressing any discontent. Blindly trusting him when he’s been in another relationship. Bystanders look in shock as you pull out of the lot burning rubber with one destination in mind.

Club Clique, to see a man named Rio.

Author's Note: thanks for reading, this one will be a little fast paced and unhinged. Very toxic because from what I can see that's what you all enjoy most. Rio being messy was my favourite part! Like, Comment, Reblog and interact with the poll.

» next part

All my love,

xoxo

#masterlist #rio x reader #rio x you #rio good girls #good girls rio #manny montana x reader #rio imagine #manny montana fanfiction #rio good girls fanfiction #rio good girls imagine

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dmitriene · 1 year ago

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𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗦 𝗔𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗦𝗜𝗠𝗢𝗡 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗩𝗜𝗥𝗚𝗜𝗡 𝗚𝗙 𝗣𝗧 𝟭.

❝𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧❞ 𝘣𝘧 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺 𝘹 𝘨𝘧 𝘷𝘪𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 ❝𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗦❞ 𝘗𝘜𝘙𝘌 𝘍𝘓𝘜𝘍𝘍, 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞, 𝘚𝘔𝘜𝘛, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱, 𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯, 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴, 𝘥𝘳𝘺𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘫𝘰𝘣, 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

simon is extremely careful because you both know that he has a heavy soldier’s hand and he is a man who grew up as a soldier, capable of turning into a living killing machine and, in principle, a meat grinder, but not next to you, no.

he treats you like a jewel, many people want to protect what is closest to them, especially if they consider it more fragile than them, and the same applies to you, you don’t have to be a completely defenseless porcelain doll — just being an ordinary civilian, unlike simon, is enough, and he already wants to act around you like a loyal dog around something fragile.

in your relationship with him, the detail that you were a virgin was revealed extremely quickly, when, in a stream of hot kisses and wet traces along the neck to the collarbones, his hands slid to your crotch and you somehow squeaked in fear, slightly pushing his hands away, making him mentally worry — «did i do something wrong? she doesn't want that? am i hurried things up?»

one glance at the dark brown abyss of his eyes is enough to understand that he is immersed in a stream of thoughts from which it would be nice to get him out before he plunges deeper than necessary, your hands carefully touch his cheeks, warm from the blush and recent kisses, stroking his cheekbones and pressing your nose to his to convince him with a gentle whisper — «hey, si.. it's alright, i'm fine, you did nothing wrong okay? i just didn't — didn't had anything like that before»

light eyelashes flutter like a fan when he looks at you and his gaze widens in surprise, brown eyes become as if cat like round when he sharply releases a sigh that he didn’t know he was holding, gently placing his slightly rough palms on top of yours, nervously licking the line of slightly thin lips and nodding with relief, kissing the button of your nose like a child, smiling and muttering hoarsely, gradually moving away from the previously heated atmosphere — «yeah.. yeah, sorry love, got it, we're not in a hurry, step by step, gonna — gonna take my time with my precious girl»

and his word was restrained, you moved forward in small steps while he explored the world of intimacy as if anew, but now with you — no rush, promiscuous connections and unknown surroundings, only his charming girlfriend, who in the end turned out to be quite enthusiastic, otherwise how to explain how it all came to this.

it seems to him that you begged him about this for weeks, just like you, because after that situation when he found out about your inexperience, he seemed to begin to be afraid, and when small kisses turned into quite hot and with a lot of saliva, hands reaching out to pull his belt, he removed them and continued to kiss you, allowing you to feel the bulge in his pants pressing into you and which you wanted to feel in every possible way, but you were like a child from whom all the sweet things were taken away.

most often, all such sessions, be it on the couch while watching a movie or in the bedroom before bed, when a couple of innocent kisses before bed turned into a practical desire to devour each other — they became just dry humping, strong fingers squeezed your hips and slowly moved them along his legs, causing your panties, already soaked to the limit, to stick to your folds while you whined and whimpered every now and then, clinging to his shoulders and begging for more — «pl-llease, mph, s-si.. want you.. want you inside so bad..»

he controlled himself well even when he heard your charming whines, and it seemed to you that he was deliberately mocking you, because he only whispered backhandedly — «no, love, gonna take more time than that, need you to be patient, yea?» kissing the top of your head and deliberately jerking his leg, making you wiggle your clothed pussy against his knee and shudder in an instant, numb orgasm, digging your nails into his shoulders and practically scratching them through the fabric of his shirt, moaning and mewling unintelligibly while he literally felt how your cunt clenches and unclenches around nothing, gushing into the cotton of your panties and the thin fabric of your shorts.

your patience was rewarded, to the extreme, one way or another you moved a little further, finding yourself between his legs with his wide dick lying exactly on your tongue, while saliva flowed down your chin, maybe you were the initiator of what was happening, crawling between his legs while he watched TV, his muscular legs spread wide apart, allowing you to gaze at the imprint of his girthy cock in his gray sweatpants, fidgeting with your cheek against the inside of his thigh just like a cat, looking at him absolutely innocently and batting your eyelashes, and how can he refuse when you look so adorable, so needy?

you don’t remember how long you’ve been sitting between his legs, the texture of the carpet uncomfortably rubs against your knees, even if it’s soft, while you with half lidded eyes studyly lick his big shaft, humming and emitting vibrations when he gently helps you with his hand, placing it on the back of your head and gently helping you move, while your tongue circled around the tip, picking up pearls of the precum on your tongue, slowly releasing him from your mouth to gently kiss the head, causing simon to growl and twitch as you slowly began to swallow him back, moaning and squirming on the carpet, looking for a friction for your throbbing pussy, causing him to stroke your forehead with his thumb and mumble deeply — «good girl, fuck — just keep it nice and warm here, yeah? gonna teach you how to.. how to do it properly, sweetheart»

he is so gentle and careful, he is in no hurry and asks you to pat his arm or leg, looking where you can reach, if something goes wrong — but you are so eager to do him good that you allow him to push your throat onto his throbbing dick even through the strange tingling sensation around your lips, running your tongue along his bulging veins as he continues to pump you slowly along his cock, which jumps up and rubs against the roof of your mouth, making you practically purr, allowing him to push deeper into the tightness of your throat.

but suddenly you close your eyes and your face contrasts with pain, your nails cling to his leg, causing him to pull you back in concern, instantly noticing the cut in the corner of your lip, which is why he immediately hides his still erect member in his boxers and sweatpants, hastily, gently squeezing your cheeks while your eyes gradually become wet from an uncomfortable burning sensation — «fuckin' hell, i told you to .. — shit, sweetheart, m'so sorry, had to notice first, i'm sorry»

you shake your head, additionally feeling that your jaw is aching, you don’t want him to feel like he’s to blame, so you gently kiss him on the cheek, looking at him guiltily and pursing your lip, purring hoarsely — «noo, it's my fault, you told me to tap you.. just.. wanted you to feel good, si»

he waves his head, stroking your hair and kissing you along the entire perimeter of your face, sensually and surprisingly airily, picking you up on his lap and adjusting his bulge, noticing how your gaze slowly slides between his legs, to which he hides your face in his neck, chuckling and continuing to kiss you tenderly, his fingers tracing circles and stripes along your spine, making you giggle at his words — «another time, lovie, you had enough for today, yep? best fucking girl in the world, wanna take care of me so much» ‹𝟹

one way or another, simon was really very worried, otherwise how to explain the fact that he practically did not let you out of his arms, did not allow anything more than small pecks on your cheeks or nose, and constantly sat you down on his muscular thighs to smear the corner of your lip with ointment, stroking your cheek extremely tenderly, watching you pout charmingly due to the fact that your training is delayed, and apparently for a long time, but can you really blame him for worrying about you, his precious girl?

taglist: @roseglazedlens, @scar-crossedlvrs, @daydreamrot, @valsthearecs, @kennedyswhore-old dm me if you want to be tagged in my works or open my taglist

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10101 · 18 days ago

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An Indian man recently committed suicide because of a demand of alimony from his wife who wanted to divorce him. But the specifics of the case and the demand of alimony being valid aside, the common reaction of the Indian man has been insane and I wanted to share some of it here. I need feminists here to please read this and spread this around.

For context: dowry is (mostly) a Hindu Indian system in marriage whereby the bride’s family gives a certain amount of material possessions as a “gift” to the bridegroom’s family. In India, even now, marriage is explicitly or implicitly considered “marriage of two families” rather than “marriage of two individuals”. But dowry deaths often result from the in-laws perceiving the dowry to be less or it not existing because the woman is poorer or easy to exploit. In many cases, the in-laws burn the woman or severely abuse her until she commits suicide. There are laws protecting against this, but sometimes many cases aren’t reported, and many do not receive adequate punishments (a similar case with rape)

How do Indian men react to this information? With the idea that Indian laws favour women. How interesting. They believe that a woman can use these laws to ruin any family or man. Besides the whole fake case fallacy, this also shows just how wilfully ignorant or straight up evil these men are.

Moving on to the reactions

Exhibit A:

Here, khap panchayat usually means a certain caste’s “panchayat” (a rural governance body) that is not recognized under Indian law. It continues, in many cases, to protect caste-based discrimination and misogynist practices

You might think these men are just reactionary so it doesn’t matter. But this is unironically how many Indian men think, and it is abundantly clear they act on it or intend to do so

Exhibit B:

“Pooja paath” basically means saying a Hindu prayer everyday with (usually) a small temple in your home. In other words, this man believes men must force their wives to become religious. Because a good Hindu woman would supposedly never fight for her rights

“Kutai” means beating.

The photo is actor Ranbir Kapoor in the Bollywood movie, Animal, which is essentially a misogyny manifesto at this point and highly acclaimed by Indian men despite its extremely low IQ reactionary content

As per the latest reports I could find, 30% of Indian women face domestic violence at the hands of their husbands or in-laws. But there is always an underrepresentation of the facts of rape and domestic violence rates in India. A large part is because much of it goes unreported. I can attest to this as someone who has heard of at least 3 such cases of extreme domestic violence where no action was taken purposefully. Additionally, the last report I remember reading mentioned at least 82% Indian men have raised a hand at their wives. I think that should tell you everything about an actual possible domestic violence rate.

Exhibit C:

The man who still likely has female friends and a girlfriend. Or his liberal sister following his account. Inside group chats and their own circles, we are all aware of how awfully these men talk about women. But on the outside, some trying to appear more friendly to women try giving placating statements like these. This is, as should be obvious, factually incorrect. There is not a single country in this world that favours women in law in a way that they are more privileged than men. Equity as a principle demands that the oppressed be given laws that seem to be privileging them, but in reality are an attempt to put them at least at the same functioning position as the oppressor group. This is basic liberal politics and an average man in India does not even understand this

I don’t have much words anymore. The Indian feminist movement is extremely weak and fragile. It is as liberal and as divided as you can get. We are not equipped to fight with this the way Korean women have been strong enough to. I’m not sure what can save my Indian sisters, but I want more people around the world to at least understand the sheer depravity of Indian men. We have to deal with this dehumanisation on a daily basis, on top of the threat of being raped and mutilated, or burned by our in-laws if we’re married off. There is a reason why Amnesty once called India the worst country to be a woman, despite all the opposition to this mere idea.

#feminism #radical feminism #radical feminist safe #radical feminists do interact #indian feminism

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sluttywonwoo · 10 months ago

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instead of you [part forty] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, alcohol, mentions of sex (18+ ; mdni)

word count: 3.4k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

That night, you turned Jisung’s words over in your mind over and over again. He was wrong, you were convinced. You would love him the same no matter what. No matter if he asked you to end things with Minho or not. You told him as much but he didn’t seem to believe you.

You went back to your room shortly after your talk. You had walked a little more, stopped for dessert at a little shaved ice stand on the beach, and then turned back. Jisung showered first, then you, but only after going over your agreement again. What you did with Minho was your business, but it had to be kept a secret. You were still Jisung’s girlfriend for the duration of the trip. It was mainly about his parents anyway. Jisung hadn’t explicitly told you why having a girlfriend was so important to him but after spending so much time with his family you could guess why.

The next day, everyone piled into the cars and took the forty-minute drive back to Honolulu where you’d landed. Traffic was awful. You knew it took everything in Minho not to honk at the cars in front of him. You could see his knuckles turning white around the steering wheel from the back seat.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” he cursed as another F-150 cut him off.

You and Jisung traded looks but neither of you dared to say anything out loud. Even Felix’s grip on the armrest tightened when Minho swerved into the next lane to speed past the truck.

“We’re not in a rush,” you reminded him. You wanted to touch his arm, reassure him somehow, but you couldn’t.

“Yeah, Mom and Dad are way behind us now.”

“It’s not about speed,” he muttered. You weren’t really convinced about the speed thing. “It’s about the principle. These assholes shouldn’t be able to get away with driving like maniacs.”

“And what are you doing right now?” Jisung asked carefully.

His twin brother turned around in his seat to give him a warning look but to everyone’s surprise, Minho took a deep breath and actually stepped on the brakes. He only slowed down a little bit, less than five mph, but it was better than nothing.

“Sorry, I’m just so used to being late all the time.”

“We know,” Felix joked.

“You should see my girlfriend drive,” your best friend joked.

“Please, I passed my driver’s test on the first try,” you scoffed, making eye contact with Minho in the rearview mirror.

He shook his head at you and mouthed low blow. Next to you, Jisung was also shaking his head.

“Yeah, and I want to talk to whoever passed you because there’s no way they weren’t under the influence of something.”

“You’re in the fast lane to never getting a ride from me again,” you muttered.

Jisung raised his hands in surrender.

“Apologize,” Felix demanded, cutting in on your behalf.

“Yeah, apologize to me,” you agreed.

Jisung sighed and turned his full body toward you, taking both of your hands in his. “I’m sorry, my love. Please forgive me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever.”

Jisung turned back toward his brothers. “I think I’m in the clear, guys.”

You smacked the back of his head.

The first stop in Waikiki was the ABC store. There was one on almost every block so you stopped at the first one you saw to buy snacks and drinks for the beach.

“How many musubis do you want?” you asked Minho, who was in charge of alcohol.

“How many are you getting?” he asked back with a grin.

He looked ridiculous with his arms full of beer, smirking at you like that.

“Two,” you said flatly.

“I’ll get two as well.”

You asked the others how many they wanted and raided the mini warmer for them before dumping them at the checkout counter with the rest of what the boys picked out. Dom paid and had the four of you take the bags back to the cars.

The next step was to find parking somewhere on the streets that were within walking distance to the beach. You had to split up from Jisung’s parents to do so because there was no way you were going to be able to find two open parking spots on the same road.

Once Minho parked, put money in the meter, and double-checked that the car was locked, the four of you slowly but surely made your way down to the shore where you met up with Nikki and Dom who had already picked out a spot in the sand.

You had never seen a beach so crowded before. There were people everywhere. And all of the available space was being taken up by beach chairs and umbrellas that you had to rent from one of the several stands stationed behind them. Some of the different colored umbrellas even overlapped with each other in an apparent turf war. You could only imagine what conversations between the rival attendants must be like.

The beach was still beautiful, of course. You were in Hawai’i. Any beach here was going to be breathtaking. Waikiki Beach attracted so many tourists because of its beauty.

“We rented four chairs,” Dom explained. “We figured not all of us would be sitting over here at once so we wouldn’t need six.”

Jisung nodded in understanding.

“Are you going to surf?” you asked.

“Probably,” he answered, looking over to his brothers. “I assume you won’t be?”

“I think I’ll sit this one out.”

You turned your foot over to look at your toe. Even though all of the sea urchin spines had dissolved, the marks from the injury were still fading. You couldn’t see yourself back on a board any time soon.

You were content to lay out in the sun with your book until Jisung wanted to wade in the water.

The boys left to rent surfboards and their parents headed in the opposite direction for a walk along the beach, leaving you alone with all of the stuff. You joked to Nikki and Dom that you would protect it with your life but in reality, you would hand it over if someone so much as looked at you threateningly.

You went to dig your book out from Jisung’s backpack but accidentally grabbed his instead. It was the one you had already read and annotated for him. Out of curiosity, you opened to where he left off to see what part he was at and were surprised to see his handwriting scrawled in the margins of the most recent page.

He hadn’t stopped annotating it. Even after everything, even when he was simmering with anger, he was still writing you little notes and responding to the ones you had left. You weren’t supposed to read them before he was done so you quickly closed it back and shoved it into the bag again before retrieving the book that was actually yours.

You took a brief look back up at the water to see how the boys were doing but there were so many surfers that it was hard to pick them out.

“Which one’s yours?”

The voice beside you startled you, making you jump a little before you realized someone had taken the seat next to you.

You weren’t sure where she had come from but a girl who looked to be about your age was perched on one of the chairs the Hans had reserved. She was pretty, really pretty. Head full of curls and freckles dusted across her cheeks. The tangerine-colored bikini she was wearing looked amazing against her skin and you weren’t sure whether you were more jealous of her or attracted to her.

“Huh?” you asked.

“Which one’s yours?” she repeated.

“Oh.” You squinted at the waves, trying to zero in on Jisung. “Uh, blue wetsuit in the group of three off to the side.”

The girl followed your gaze and nodded when she found him. “They just got out there, right?”

“Yeah, we only got here a few minutes ago.” You noticed the camera dangling around and realized she must be out there for someone too. “Um, which one is yours?”

“Long hair, kind of far out. He’s in the big cluster of surfers in the swell.”

Her boyfriend was easy to spot. He was paddling in the direction of an upcoming wave.

“Do you guys come out here often?” you asked.

She nodded, curls bouncing. “David’s lived in Kaneohe like all his life, which is like fifteen minutes from here so it’s super convenient. The North Shore isn’t as crowded but the waves are practically nonexistent in the summer,” she explained. “What about you guys?”

“We’re on vacation.” You were embarrassed to admit that but it wasn’t like you could lie. You didn’t know the island at all. You also didn’t want to risk mentioning that it hadn’t been your choice to come here and offend her if she thought you were implying that her home state was the worst or something.

“Oh, how fun!” she exclaimed. Ok, well that was a positive reaction at least.

“My boyfriend’s family was nice enough to invite me along,” you added, wanting at the very least to establish that it hadn’t been your idea.

“Holy shit, that is nice of them.”

“I know,” you agreed.

“Well, while you’re here you should definitely check out the Pillbox hike. It’s a little brutal if you aren’t used to hiking uphill but the views are totally worth it.”

“I’ll be sure to mention it to him! We have a free day tomorrow so maybe we’ll do that, thank you.”

You would not be going on the hike. You hated hiking and heights but you would still mention it to Jisung in case the boys wanted to go.

She smiled but then something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and she was standing up to leave.

“Sorry, I promised my boyfriend that I would get some shots of him today and he’ll be pissed if I miss these waves.”

She threw you a wave over her shoulder as she jogged off. You waved back, calling out that it was nice to meet her. You never got her name.

You only managed to get through a couple of pages of your book before another person approached your chairs. This time, it was Jisung. He had come up to check on you.

“Make a new friend?” he asked as he shook water out of his hair like a dog.

“Oh yeah, did you see that girl talking to me?”

“Thought she might be trying to put the moves on you.”

“Oh my god, how many times do I have to tell you I’m not Bella Swan? Not everyone who talks to me is into me.”

“She was your type, though.”

“You say that about all girls.”

“Because that’s your type.”

You rolled your eyes at your best friend. “Either way, she wasn’t interested. She has a boyfriend. She was just asking me if I had a partner out there too.”

“That doesn’t mean she didn’t think you were cute,” he pointed out.

“You’re so annoying,” you groaned. “I don’t need a wingman anymore.”

He made a face. “That’s right, you’re fucking my brother,” he said, sounding disgusted. You couldn’t blame him.

“Do you have to announce that to the entire beach? I’m supposed to be your girlfriend, remember?”

Jisung shrugged and plopped himself down on the chair next to yours. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to get it out of his eyes. Because it was wet, it had taken on a mind of its own. You had witnessed Jisung try to tame his hair after a shower on several occasions. It usually ended with him just waiting for it to dry so that he could style it and then making you late to wherever you were supposed to be going.

“Are you going to go back out there?” you asked.

“Probably. Wanna join?”

“Very funny.”

“I was being serious.”

“Oh. Well, no thanks.”

“I figured but I just wanted to make sure.”

“You’re sweet.”

The boys surfed for a couple of hours before coming in to eat the musubis and snacks you bought earlier. Their parents returned around the same time and you all ate together.

Afterward, Jisung offered to wade around in the shallow water at the edge of the beach with you.

“You have to get in,” he insisted. “It’ll cool you down.”

“Okay,” you agreed.

You didn’t need any more convincing. You had wanted to get in anyway.

“Lix, Minho, do you want to come with us?” Jisung asked.

They looked at each other and shrugged. “Sure.”

The four of you wove through the sea of beach chairs down to the shore where the remnants of bigger waves lapped at the sand. The water was crystal clear, apart from the frothy white foam atop the waves. It fizzled against the hot sand when the waves crashed against the beach, lingering still even when the water subsided.

There were several groups of people in the ocean as well but it was less crowded than the beach. Families with small children were gathered right by the shore, the parents mingling with each other as the kids played with wet sand and beach toys. You wished you could remember what it was like to be that young. To meet a stranger and be best friends in the blink of an eye.

There were less and less people the further out from the shore you got. Fathers teaching older kids how to boogie board, teenagers jumping in the waves as they gossiped with each other.

You weren’t sure how long you spent in the water but before long, Nikki and Dom were waving from the beach to get your attention.

“They’re either saying it’s time to go, or they’re ditching us,” Jisung said, squinting and making a ‘what?’ gesture with his shoulders.

“It’s really a fifty-fifty shot,” Felix added.

“I think they want us to come in,” Minho guessed.

Minho was proven right mere seconds later when Dom beckoned you to join them.

The latter half of the day was spent walking around the city. Being the center of tourism on the island meant Waikiki had a lot of shopping. You had never seen so many high-end stores in one place before. You did some window shopping while the Hans did some shopping shopping. Practically everything in every single shop was out of your price range. You weren’t expecting otherwise but seeing the numbers on the backs of the price tags still hurt your heart.

You could tell a few of the sales associates recognized Minho from the way their eyes would get big when they saw him. They’d lean over and whisper to each other behind his back. Even though he couldn’t hear them you knew he knew it was happening. It made you feel kind of bad for him. Kind of.

You ate dinner at some restaurant attached to the lobby of a hotel. It was on the water, which was nice, but it was just as crowded as the beach had been. The poor servers were so swamped that it took over an hour to get your food. No one minded, of course, but by the time Minho laid his credit card on top of the bill it was dark outside.

“Do you remember where we parked?” Minho asked you as you

“Yeah, but I don’t know how to get there from where we are right now.”

“So you don’t remember where we parked.”

“No, I remember where we parked. But we’ve walked around so much that I don’t know how to get there.”

Minho shook his head at you. “You should always pay attention to where you’re going. It can be dangerous if you don’t know where you are.”

“Why should I? That’s what I have you guys for.”

“What if we weren’t here?”

“There’s a parked car option on my GPS.”

“What if your phone was dead?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“I just want you to be safe!”

You didn’t want to hear any more. “Jisung, your brother is being an asshole!”

Your best friend, who had been walking alongside Felix, jogged up to meet you when you called for him.

“What’d he do?”

“I was just trying to-”

“I didn’t ask you,” Jisung cut in, glaring at Minho.

“He’s giving me a hard time because I don’t know how to get back to the car from here,” you explained.

“We can just use the GPS app,” Jisung said.

You turned to Minho with a smug grin. “See?”

“I can’t believe you told on me,” he muttered under his breath.

“Get used to it,” you hummed.

The last day on Oahu was a free day. You told Jisung about the pillbox hike that the girl from the beach had suggested and he woke up early to do it with Felix and Minho. He came back raving about it and showed you a bunch of pictures that made you feel a little sick to your stomach because of how high it looked.

“Thank god I didn’t go with you guys,” you sighed. “I’d be freaking out even if I stayed at the bottom, just thinking about you up there. There aren’t any handrails or guards to keep you from falling-”

“We were fine,” he assured you. “I didn’t even show you the pictures of us on top of the box.”

“You climbed it?”

“I mean, we’d already climbed the mountain. What’s a little concrete box? Everyone else was doing it.”

You held a hand to your heart like a scandalized middle-aged woman. “I don’t think I want to know anything else.”

Jisung took one look at you and laughed. “That’s probably for the best.”

You did some pre-packing at the hotel before joining his brothers to do some exploring. Like Jisung, they had showered after their hiking expedition. All three of them were sporting still-wet hair that was dripping onto their shirts like kids sitting in church service after their baptism.

You walked around the resort first, checking out all of the pools and hot tubs for later that night. Jisung told his parents that he’d cook for the family and he’d dragged Felix and Minho with him to get groceries earlier. Apparently, Minho said he would help grill while Jisung made some of the side dishes upstairs. You were interested to see how that would turn out. You didn’t have to wait long to find out.

You walked by the lagoons next, slipping into the resorts along the shore to scope them out. You were surprised to see that some of them were nicer than the one you were staying at. You assumed the Hans had chosen whatever the best money could buy was but maybe they were a more financially conscious family than you’d thought.

“This is the Disney hotel,” Minho whispered in your ear as you passed one of the pools. “It’s crazy expensive to stay here for just a night. Like a standard room is over six hundred dollars.”

“Are you serious?”

“Unfortunately. I mean, we probably could have gotten a discount but someone would have to pull a lot of strings and then a handful of people would know exactly where I’m going to be and when and we would have had to hire security... it was just easier to book somewhere else.”

“Isn’t it kind of dangerous to be walking around here in the open then?”

Minho shrugged. “I like to live life on the edge.”

You snorted. “Clearly.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Ji showed me the pictures from your hike earlier.”

His eyes widened. “He did?”

“Uh huh.”

“Shit.”

“You know, I could point out how hypocritical it is to lecture me about safety one day and then do shit like that the next, but I won’t.”

“You’re the one that told us about the hike!”

You ignored him. “Does your agent know you were climbing mountains this morning?”

He narrowed his eyes at you and leaned closer to your face. “No, and she never will.”

“You seem pretty sure of that...”

“You don’t have her number,” Minho said like he was trying to reassure himself rather than call your bluff.

“Not yet, I don’t.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise.”

He gulped. “Why do I get the feeling that we’re not talking about my agent anymore?”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

#instead of you stray kids #instead of you skz #iou stray kids #iou skz #stray kids x reader #stray kids x female reader #skz x reader #lee know x reader #lee know x female reader #lee know x bi!reader #lee know series #stray kids series #skz series

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baeddel · 5 months ago

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my 1st year of hrt

i don't post here much now, but as i have shared so much of my journey with you, for so much of which i wasn't able to transition at all, i wanted to make a post about my first year on hormones.

this post will be nsfw because of frank discussion about genitals, sexual functions and sexuality. it's also long, sorry.

ORAL, INJECTIONS

i have the entire time merely done what the diy wiki told me. between the time that i first looked into it, with the sort of long and helpful advices i received from friends, up to now, the whole thing has become much more well-understood and by that measure much easier to transmit and there are more plentiful resources. so it is really easy to diy. it's also much easier to get hormones and blockers and many more kinds are available.

i started off on 50mg bica and 6mg oral estradiol. i knew i wanted to use bica becuase it's supposed to keep your horny. a major hesitation for me was losing my libido, since being an extremely high libido person has been such a core part of my identity for pretty much my entire life. it turns out i had no reason to be afriad for reasons i'll explain later, but in the end i'm not sure how much of a role the bica played in that.

the chepaest place was actually from Lillian at the time we bought it. this regimen worked out to an amount per year that i don't really have and my first year was paid for entirely by my incredible and wonderful and amazing girlfriend @shimakaze-revivalism which i am so thankful for. it worked out the best to go for oral at that time but i had no preference for it over injections; gel seemed annoying to me.

to be honest i don't really recommend all that because it's basically ten times as expensive as monotherapy with injections. good golly! i didn't realize injections were so cheap until another girlfriend pointed it out to me around the time that i was due to refill. plus, not only am i used to injecting because of diabetes, but i like needles. since starting i have fallen in love with this method; i look forward to injection day and delight and savour in the entire process. i inject intramuscularly in my thighs with a 1" needle. the needle presses my skin into a deep valley before finally piercing through at which point my thigh snaps level and swallows the needle. i salivate a little bit when i do it. it hurts for a few days wherever the needle went, sweetly. if i'm too rough it bruises. my girlfriend is frightened of neeldes and i make her watch. i take 0.1ml at 10ml/400mg which according to Transfem Science (click) is equivalent to 8mg per day of estradiol orally, a little more than i took before. i stopped taking bica so i am on estradiol monotherapy.

because Lillian had issues right around the time of my order it was delayed by a bit and i went without hormones for a little while. this was utterly miserable and felt physically awful. i'll talk about it a bit more later. then my wonderful girlfriend lent me hers after we worked some things out so that she wouldn't also be left short. so for about a week or two i was taking 4mg estradiol and some amount of finasteride; this regimen felt bad and i struggled to stay hard or cum until i changed to something else. the phenomenally sweet and kind @hypnosister was bringing some estradiol gel for me to tide me over the rest of the way (—the second time she has given me hormones to cover for my errors), but my estradiol miraculously arrived the exact same day she did, so i never used any gel.

as you can tell, the principle ingredient in my hrt regimen has been the milk of human kindness. i owe an unpayable debt of gratitude. hopefully i can be more competent and independent in the future.

BLOOD TESTS

my plan was to get tested every 4~ months and monitor my blood.

there is a private blood test service you can get here in NI. they send out a little kit and you make a sample and send it back. supposedly. so far i have not known anyone to succeed. strangely, they don't allow refunds until you've tried it three times. for me i quickly realized my problem was that i have to use a lancet to draw blood several times a day to monitor my blood sugars, which means my fingers are scarred and calloused around there already and i'd never be able to draw enough blood as the test wanted. the last test i simply sent back undisturbed; they gave me my refund.

you can instead book an appointment with private clinics they work with and they will draw blood intravenously. however, at the time, agoraphobia would have made this a profoundly difficult journey, and i started off transitioning in secret and couldn't ask anyone for help getting there. so in the end i haven't been getting blood tested at all and don't really know what my hormones are and don't know how my liver is doing. this isn't ideal, but things are starting to change for me; i am now out at home, and what's more, i have started to beat my agoraphobia (!) and can get about now on public transport on my own. so i will go in a few months to monitor how my injections are doing.

SIDE EFFECTS

when i first started i was extremely nauseous. this went away after a month or so. after that there were simply no negative side-effects.

going off of hormones felt bad, but it was as bad as i felt before going on hormones. being on hormones simply feels much better; i'll talk more about that later.

LIBIDO, BONERS AND CUM

as i mentioned this was my biggest hesitation before starting. my libido had always been so high as to be debilitatingly intense. i would masturbate several times a day. if i hadn't masturbated recently i would be unable to concentrate; i would be so horny i'd get dizzy, feel faint... something in me had to be ceaselessly arrested, cooled, soothed and put away, shortly to lift its hatch and claw at me again. in a lot of ways it was really a big problem in my life and looking back it wasn't a good thing. but it was who i was and i was scared of losing it. it also seemed like an important component of maintaining a lot of sexual relationships. or was it the special solvent that held all my work together? a manic energy. without which i would become slovely and pointless.

erections are also of course an important part of performing in the way i was used to; and i could cum a lot. like, a lot. thick, goopy, white cum. which girls like. because i am not attractive in any other measure, giving up this source of puissance felt like giving up everything. so it was really frightening to me to be honest. these are all ways that the idea of a loss of libido or sexual function felt like the end of myself as a person.

this is i understand probably a distorted source of self-worth, but, in any case, hormones did not in fact oblige me to give it up, and i worried for nothing. hormones drastically improved my sexuality in every single respect. first of all, it did hurt my libido, but only so much as to take the edge off. it let me master it; and having mastered it, i was able to do things i could never do before in my life, like chastity games, and everyday life wasn't so painful, and i had more freedom about how i spent my time, since i didn't have to masturbate before anything that took concentration. but i'm still a very high libido person; what's more it made me much more engaged with sex with partners rather than masturbating.

there was a brief period of time close to the beginning where it did affect my erections, i believe, but this passed and i now have erections like normal. neither my penis or scrotum changed size or appearance. and thankfully my loads did not diminish at all; though on bica it was a little more translucent and less goopy white, it seems to be back to normal on monotherapy. it takes several minutes to clean up after.

but here's the thing; on hrt, my sexuality improved in ways i didn't even anticipate. these are: 1. every sensation feels so much better, to such an extent that sensations seem to take on a profound meaning. it is especially lovely to use the soft parts of a girl's thighs. 2. orgasms are completely different. not just a quantitative but a qualitative difference. they make me shiver, they last forever, my toes curl as i gasp and perspire. afterwards i am submerged in bliss; wheezing asthmatically, sticky or soaking wet. 3. when not having sex, i mostly cum handsfree, neither using my hands nor any implement, or any special technique but to look at something or think of something or talk to someone. either naked or under my clothes. i could do this before but it took more effort. 4. when having sex, i cum much, much faster, which is a really good change for me, because performing was always a source of anxiety, and now i have no problem with that, unless i'm having blood sugar problems which can't be helped.

i understand that most people don't have my experiences when they start hrt. although for most people sex feels better and orgasms feel better, most people cum less and have more problems performing after hrt rather than the opposite.

in the few weeks that i went off hrt i went pretty much back to normal, and it felt awful. i went back to masturbating several times a day, became less interested in having sex, and derived much less enjoyment from masturbation which was little more than habitual. i could still cum handsfree but mostly i didn't. by comparison it all simply felt bad. at this point i would take estrogen merely as an aphrodisiac.

BOOBS

i have little boobs. if it really is accurate to talk about transfem bodies this way, then i think i am in Tanner Stage 3. i don't really care about having boobs so i don't really think about it. mainly i felt A LOT BETTER about my body after i started removing my chest hair, no matter what my chest looks like.

early on in transition i asked you all if my boobs would stop being sore. some of you said no. well listen up fuckers, you were dead wrong! after three or four months they stopped hurting entirely. but then afer i started injections they began to hurt again, and now they still hurt. maybe they'll just hurt every August, no matter what i do.

WEIGHT GAIN, FAT DISTRIBUTION

i literally weigh 50 pounds more than at the start of 2023. however, 30 of those pounds i put on before even starting hrt. so i think it's a coincidence; regression to the mean. in the past i constnatly lost weight mysteriously, now i am quickly gaining it. i'm a little worried about it really, but i feel a little better about myself with chubbier cheeks as well.

i have definitely gained more of an hourglass shape now that i didn't have before. but i still think my body is very ugly and i'm ashamed of it. looking more feminine doesn't mean looking or feeling any more attractive necessarily and you have more body image issues than gender dysphoria. it's necessary to consider them a little separately. to be honest, i have no idea what i wanted hrt to do to my body. no matter what outward physical change i consider i will say 'that's some accidental change and is not the reason i'm on hormones, so i don't really care about it.' then why transition?

HRT AS WILL

this is to me the most fascinating change and the one i could anticipate the least; hrt completely changes my fundmanetal first-person experience of reality. i have no idea how to describe it; surely any words are inaccurate metaphors which cannot possibly denote anything to you if you haven't felt it. i simply feel that, before hrt, i was out of alignment, and that when i am on hrt, my alignment has been restored, and i have achieved some kind of invisible perfection. every waking moment feels so much better, and stopping hrt made me feel awful for that reason only. i knew what it was like to be on it. Tiresias.

this is the biggest thing for me; even if hrt did absolutely nothing else i would take it for this reason alone. not only that, but i would still regard it as deeply important, fulfilling some deep need. i would pay a high price for it.

do you know what i mean? what is this?

oh god... have you felt this? it's rather... rapturous... ah haha...

it means that i'm chosen...

maybe i have eyes on the inside. if you kill me you'll get a Caryll Rune: Clockwise Metamorphosis.

when i think about other things to add to my transition progress, such as progesterone, this is the primary lens that i look at it through. how would this change my inner experience? what effect would it have on me at the level of pure feeling? i don't really care what it would do to my body. what new chamber of the soul is unlocked thereby?

PERIODS

i was promised that i would get periods when i started hrt. this seems to have been a myth. if i want periods i suppose i would have to actually vary my own hormones throughout the month. in the past i actually had a pretty intense dysphoria about not getting periods, and the idea that i'd get them one day was very relieving to me. thankfully i don't really care about that anymore; all of my desires orient themselves with reference to transfems, so not having periods doesn't create any kind of distance between myself and my peers.

CONCLUSION

anyway, transition is going extremely well in my estimation. there are other aspects of transition than just hrt; gender-affirming clothes, laser (cheap here), optionally voice training and such. i think for some people a year is kind of a long time, but i tend to have a long-term view. it's something healthy but it also makes me slow to act. in any case i still see myself as just starting, and i will get to other things soon enough. i like changing. i like doing things that change me. you have to resist the temptation to see every possible avenue of transition as a form of assimilation to cisnormativity. we have a culture; we do certain things that change us, sometimes forever and sometimes for now.

thanks for reading.

#trip report not medical advice

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 1 year ago

Text

Supernova

A/N: *sigh* here we are again simping over a man I shouldn't be. Oh well.

Summary: Imprisoned in deep space, Ettore discovers an old flame still burns as bright. And hurts just as much. NSFW, 18+, Minors DNI

Warnings under the cut~ | Word Count: 5.4k~ | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Ettore Taglist

Warnings: toxic relationships, mentions of sexual related crimes, cursing, choking, Ettore being a simp, masturbation, oral (m receiving), rough sex, biting, face slapping, hair pulling, fingering, pussy slapping, mouth fuccin, swallowing

Of all the fucking people to see on this ship.

He’d have picked anyone else, to be honest. Any other rat-faced, intemperate bitch to spend the rest of his miserable young life with. To wait out his days ‘til, eventually, they’d all die. He could deal with the other female prisoners, it’s not like all of the women on the ship were that bad to look at. Just most of them. Crime had done a number on them after all those years, many of them sullen in the face, violence brimming beneath their expressions.

But he’d take them all on, every single day of his life, instead of her.

His fucking ex-girlfriend.

A brief relationship. Yes. But it frustrated him all the same.

It had been years since then at least, so the sheer bitterness of seeing her again wasn’t so fresh. She’d looked his way once in passing in the canteen, but had not lingered. Perhaps she didn’t even recognise him.

But he’d recognise her anywhere.

Ettore. Who now wouldn't be seen dead in a relationship, having done the terrible things that landed him here.

Ettore. Who had a questionable past with women.

She’d changed. Matured somewhat. Before, she was smaller, slimmer, not a woman you would usually associate with such violence. But what she lacked in stature she made up for in temper, even back then she was a loaded gun with the safety off, threatening to shoot her rage in any direction she seemed necessary.

And for whatever reason at the time, when he was younger, a bit more stupid he supposed, blinded by her striking nature, they’d gotten into a relationship, though never defined. One that was equally destructive to each of them.

He’d always been in and out of the police station. He wasn’t smart, so he didn’t easily evade capture. But she did. She always got off light, using her sex to her advantage. It was much easier when a barely twenty year old girl could easily go from violent offender to playing the victim with a simple expression change. She did it too well.

But now, clearly, she’d done something even she couldn’t escape from.

How many years had it really been? He couldn’t really even remember. They'd all blurred together.

All he cared to remember of their relationship was that it was toxic, on both parts. Never in terms of outright violence, it wasn’t like that, but they hurt each other with their words, with their actions and attitudes. Where he was cold and not willing to back down and admit his wrongdoings, she was sharp, quick-witted, but her insults hurt him the most.

But it was exciting. God it was so fucking exciting to be with her.

As wrong as it was, the only manner in which either of them knew how to get the anger to simmer down, was to fuck. It’s possibly the healthiest sexual relationship he’s had with a woman, and that’s saying something. He doesn’t dwell on that fact too much.

Whenever they had a fight, which was extremely regular, they would expel it with hate sex. It was rough, aggressive, borderline violent. And they would say as much to each other, before submitting their bodies, tangled against each other like strangling.

Now, looking at her. Her maturity astonished him. She, in principle, hadn’t changed, but there was something about her that he couldn’t shake. He couldn’t tell how he felt that she didn’t recognise him. Most of the prisoners were indifferent to each other, barely talking even in close situations, so that wasn’t out of the ordinary, but he felt the simmer of that nostalgic anger again when he saw her.

Since realising it was her, his use of the Box had increased dramatically. Using his imagination was horrendous. She was right there. He could have the real thing if he wanted. And yet he found himself, stroking his cock vigorously to the memories of their chaotic fucking. Remembering the way her breath used to feel against his skin, holding back her sounds from being too loud, the way her tits pressed against his chest, the way the flesh of her thighs felt in his palm as he raised them to rut into her deeper. Her skin. Voice. Taste. He wanted to sink his teeth into her, and lick at the blood that pooled to the surface; would she taste as sweet as she used to? For some reason, he thought she would taste better now.

Fucking his hand to the thought of her wasn’t enough, he needed to feel her pussy choke him for all he was worth. Needed to stuff himself inside her until she winced as he reached the end of her. He would pull her back by her hips, digging his fingers in as far as they would go, and watch as he disappeared inside her, each thrust punctuated by her sweet moans.

Each day that went by, her ignorance of him was growing too much. Those dark feelings he’d buried since they broke up and he went down his own path of crime were now bubbling to the surface, angry at having been suppressed for so long.

Now that he had seen her. She was everywhere.

He nearly cracked when he saw her walk the short route from the showers to her cell, her hair all wet and already dressed in her sleepwear, which left little to the imagination. It was the closest he'd come to seeing her body in years.

He wasn't shy about admitting it to himself what he thought in that moment.

Thought about grabbing her, pinning her down. He'd use restraints if he had to. Ripping those shorts off and just taking her right there, not caring if she was ready or not. Just a pure animalistic desire put entirely being fucking himself into her.

He didn't.

But the reins on his control were slipping.

He watched across the canteen as she went to put her tray back, eyes floating over her form. The red scrubs they all wore were shapeless, but his eyes were boring holes in it, wondering if she still looked the same, if her tits would still fill his palm as effortlessly as they used to.

Another male prisoner was talking to her, in a clear, over-zealous manner, with a stupid grin on his face. He was talking excitedly, shooting his shot. And Ettore stared darkly, eyes flitting between them and gauging her reaction.

Something akin to excitement and pride bolted through him when she turned away, rolling her eyes.

God she still does that. Fucking brat.

He watched as she walked away, his eyes fixed on the sway of her hips, the slope of her neck. There’s a heat burning in his belly, one he recognises as desire. He feels his cock impossibly hard at the prospect of having her again.

It’s beyond dark in the hallways by the time he’s finished in the Box. He fans his shirt against his chest as he leaves, eyes adjusting to the darkness of the corridor, barely even seeing someone is waiting for him to be done, leaning against the wall.

His whole body goes warm when his eyes land on her, waiting there with ankles crossed, tapping her foot against the linoleum floor. But when the door opened, she looked up at him, having to bite her cheek to suppress her grin.

The little bitch had known it was him the entire time.

And had chosen to ignore him.

He stood, as amused as she was, and she didn’t move an inch as he stalked towards her, except when she brushed her hair out her face to look at him better. Their eyes bore into each other as he leaned his arm next to her, against the wall, right next to her head. Though she was a head shorter than him, she looked at him as if she held all the cards.

“Ettore” she greeted, her tone rising at the end.

Fuck. Her voice.

He tried hard not to grin. He thought she was being a little temptress and knew entirely what she was doing, pressing all his buttons she knew existed. Poking and prodding at the darkness that lingered under his skin, threatening to burst free in goosebumps.

She raised an eyebrow when he didn’t respond, “I'd say it's nice to see you but…”

“Hm” he responded low in his chest. She was so close. He could just reach out and touch her, she was real. “Considering how things ended”

It was her turn to hum, something dark behind her eyes, “We were younger. Stupid. Especially you” she teased, “We just weren’t right for each other”

Fuck. You. Ettore thought.

“Maybe you’re right…” he hummed, “...we were a bad combination. But you have to admit…we had something. Didn't we"

She smirked, seeing an open window, “Is that what you think about? When you’re in there” she cocked her head towards the Box, “Do you think about me?”

You know I fucking do.

Ettore’s smile faded, replaced by an expression of silent rage. She stood there watching him vibrate with need, practically able to feel the thumping of his heart, able to hear how his blood sloshed around inside him, humming with a deep, dark desire.

“Do you still think about our fights?” she asked, her voice provoking, “how they always ended?” she was speaking in a whisper now, and Ettore’s hand formed a fist, his body yearning to touch her. And how she just stood there, knowing entirely what she was doing to him, with that bratty fucking smirk on her face. He wanted to wipe it off, show her who he was now.

“Savour that memory. Because it’s not happening again” she smiled, slipping from the wall towards the Box.

He saw red, and grabbed her arm tightly, pulling her back with force. Don't you know what I've done, stupid bitch. Her amused expression never falters.

"Nobody says no to me"

“Now, now, play nice” she taunts, “If you do, I will too”

“Who said I want you nice” he asked with a hard expression, “I’m not looking for nice”

Her damned smile is driving him crazy. And he’s surprised, when he shouldn’t be, when he grabs her face but she doesn’t move an inch. His fingers press against her jaw tightly, surely hurting her. Her eyes look over his face, beguiling him, perhaps taking in how much about him had changed.

“I always did bring out the worst in you, didn’t I”

Ettore grinned darkly, “You know how I like it”

Their faces are so close, they can feel one another’s hot breaths, lips yearning to collide like two stars, to only self-destruct into supernova. From here, he can see how his fingers are making red indents in her skin, the way her chest moves from her breathing and how her pupils dilate at the forceful nature of their attraction. He wonders if underneath this hard, bratty exterior, if she is soaking wet for him, pathetic little bitch.

“Christ, you still drive me fucking crazy”

She grins at that, as if she’s won. He hates that self-righteous look on her face. And being so close to him, practically touching, she can feel his manhood throbbing through the thin material of his scrubs, desperately seeking fulfilment.

“What do you say we find somewhere, recreate some of those old memories”

She hums, pulling her face forcibly from him, “Dream on” she shrugs, “Use your imagination”

Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be.

He would be offended, angry even. If he didn’t know her. And knew that this was her nature.

She makes a point of standing in the doorway of the Box, forearms leaning against the frame. Provoking him.

He gives her a cold, hard look, “What if I don’t want to? What if I want the real thing?”

“There’s plenty of women here. Maybe you could pretend it’s me” she winks, making his heart freeze in his chest for a moment, “Goodnight, Ettore”

Fucking tease.

The Box door shuts and he has to ground himself, digging his nails into his palm, thinking about what she’s doing to herself behind that door. What pretty sounds she would make, when his cock forced its way into her again.

When he laid in bed, trying to ignore the stark blue light of the ship and the incessant hum. That wasn't keeping him awake.

What would she do, if he just walked into her cell, began to touch her sleeping form, running his hand over her soft skin. Was she a deep sleeper still, as she used to be? Would his hand on her flesh wake her up?

He imagined kissing and biting her neck, marking her as his own, as she was always meant to be. And if she did wake up soon enough, she'd find him pulling off her underwear, teasing his hot and angry tip against her slit.

It'd be easy to take it by force. He could. If he wanted to.

She was different to the other women, the ones he'd had after her. The ones who met their end.

They were all stupid, wanting a love from him that they could never get in a million years. Wanted more than he could offer. Something they paid for with their lives.

She never expected his love. She saw the darkness in his eyes and wanted to see more of it, to see what abyss it led to in his soul. She had seen that side of him and nurtured it, fed it. Let him take his anger out on her body, and revelled in it, with that look she always gave him, when she knew he wanted it.

She'd given that look today, seeing that darkness lingering in him. Perhaps she wondered if she could fan those flames and see how brightly he'd burn, no matter the cost to them both.

He thought about back then. How he used to start fights, just so he got to fuck her the way they both liked.

It made him hard thinking about it.

He wanted her to want it. Something he'd never admit. Deep down, perhaps he'd known she wanted it too.

It was that odd familiar feeling. Like a spark is igniting his insides when he sees her actively talking to the other guys on the ship. Namely Monte. Tall and broad. Prick.

There is jealousy, sure. But also that raw unbridled lust that used to drive him. Drive them. Maybe she hasn't changed as much as he thought.

He wonders. Could he still make her burn like she used to? Could he still feel the heat himself, and let himself be marred by it?

He'd been so cold for so long.

He wanted to feel alive again.

It frustrated him to no end, now that she knew how much he wanted her again, how much her attitude had flipped. Entertaining the flirting of other guys. She’d taken to wearing tank tops, deliberately not wearing anything underneath, and wearing her scrub bottoms low on her waist, sometimes so low he swore he could see the dimples at the base of her spine, where he used to rest his thumbs to tug her body to his.

Any guy that flirts, or so much as passes a glance in her direction, however overzealous, she welcomes with a wicked grin and flirts back, just to irk him. Whenever her eyes met his, they glinted with pride at getting the reaction she’d wanted.

He felt almost feverish, every nerve and vein in his body felt piping hot. Blood rushed to his cock with astonishing speed whenever she so much as breathed in the same room as him. And the flirting? His fists were tight, white-knuckled, seeing that smug look on her face.

They don’t understand you like I do. Nobody will know your body like I do.

She turns away from Monte, who has a stupid fucking smile again, as if he ever has a chance. And her eyes meet Ettore’s over her shoulder.

Their eyes lock. As if she is saying what are you going to do about it.

A challenge.

Break. Come to me. Show me how much you want me.

He couldn’t wait. Tonight she’d scream.

Staying awake at night, he knew all her movements. She always gets up in the middle of the night, with such quiet, delicate footsteps and goes to refill her water bottle.

It was the only window of opportunity he found, to be alone with her.

Careful not to wake his cellmates, he crosses the threshold out to the corridor, the blue light straining his eyes. But just barely enough to see her disappear around the corner. He felt the chill of the air conditioning on his bare chest, skin prickling up, but it was overcome with the heat that ran through his blood. He was sure that his own cells inside him were vibrating, aching to collide with hers.

He grinned, darkly with all his teeth, when he saw the back of her. If she had heard him approach she didn’t show it. And he thought she was perfect for being taken right then, just how she was. In her sleepwear, a top that hung too big on her, with a pair of shorts on her bottom half, her hair tied in a loose bun, messy from writhing around in bed.

When he heard the water stop, he pushed forward, grabbing her bun and shoved her so hard into the wall he was sure she hit her face against it. It’s pitiful how he groaned low in his chest, the way his erection pressed against her soft ass, how flush his chest was to her back, standing tall over her as if he might kill her.

She gasped and winced slightly at the tight hold he had on her hair, her water bottle forgotten and water spilled to the floor. She hummed a laugh as he twisted her arm behind her back,

“This is pathetic, even for you”

“Shut the fuck up” he whispered, breath hot against the shell of her ear. A pleasant shiver ran through her, “can’t stand you prancing around, acting like a fucking slut with them”

He forgot how strong she was, for someone her size, as she yanks her hands away from him, elbowing him in the chest, making him grunt, annoyed.

“Fucking-” he grabs her again, shoving her back hard against the wall, curling his hand around her slender neck and squeezing slightly, pulling her up to look at him. He can tell just how hard she is trying not to smile, and it only makes his simmering anger build.

He can feel how tight his chest gets when he looks at her, feeling primal at the way his lungs inflate and deflate, “You know you want it, like you did back then” he growls.

She scoffs, “Back then?” she says with a bemused raise of her eyebrows, “...that was then”

“And it can be now too”

It’s like those nights back then, when he’d just become consumed in the smell of sex, just to satiate his hunger for her.

“I don’t think so” she smirks, choking in some air when his thumb presses slightly into her windpipe, choking tighter. He can feel her tits press against his chest as she breathes, the colour coming to her cheeks the harder he pushes on her neck.

“You think anyone could fuck you like I do?”

“I think Monte could” she grins.

He scoffs, pressing himself into her impossibly harder, allowing her to feel his hardness grazing against her clothed cunt.

“You want me to fight for you, don’t you, you little bitch”

Her own hands join his at her neck, fingers trying to dig under his. He can feel her heartbeat through her veins and he allows himself to wonder what she’d feel like inside. He’s never felt more torn, more in control but not at the same time.

“I’ve changed a lot since you last saw me. Done horrible things” she says,

“I don’t give a fuck about that”

I just want to remember how good I made you feel. How good you made me feel. To give you what you want.

She smiles softly, “It was always like this, wasn't it…us hurting each other” her eyes seem to study his face, and though almost imperceptible, his grip loosens somewhat, “I think it turns you on” she whispers, “does it excite you?”

The air seems thin in his chest at what she said. They were both awful people, there was no doubt about it. But that was what drew him in, and what continued to make him come back to her.

That she never judged him for those things, because she was just as bad.

“I think you want to hurt me” she smirks, “you’re pathetic”

Something clicks inside, Ettore crashes his lips against her, knocking his teeth against hers and kissing her belligerently, and though it’s rough and chaotic, she sighs contently into his mouth. It’s a mess of tongues and teeth, the way they kiss reflective of what is going on inside them. And the more he feels her hot breath and lips against his, the more his blood sings with desire, all flooding below his waist, pressing his erection against her stomach.

He pressed his thigh between hers, nudging them apart, one hand dipping beneath the hem of her shirt to feel her hot skin, trailing up and taking her shirt with it when he palms at her breast. He swallows her quiet moan as he kneads the flesh beneath his hand, his lips trailing from hers and dragging his nose across her cheek, taking this moment to breathe in her individual scent. He mouths at her neck, biting softly at first, but becoming more rough as he feels her jolt when his teeth sink into her skin, his tongue running across the bruised skin, groaning when he tastes the slightest bit of coppery blood.

“Stop that” she all but breathes, shoving her shoulder against him in reprimand.

He squeezes her breast hard at that, pushing her so much against the wall as if he is trying to mould her to it.

“You’re mine”

She even has the gall to laugh at him for saying that, despite the position they’re in.

With fire in his veins, pressing his bare chest against her, he bunches her tank top in his fists and tugs, the fabric surrendering beneath the harshness of his fingers, revealing her tits to him finally. His hips rut into hers, pushing her up the wall, one hand clutching her ass in his hand to keep her there as he mouths her other breast, running his tongue over the rosy bud.

Her head tilts back, landing on the wall with a thud as his wet muscle pleasures one nipple, nipping every now and then on the sensitive skin, and the other being moulded in his calloused palms. It feels better than before. Though even now, they’re considered young, they’d seen the glimmer of themselves before all this. And now, hurtling through space, he’s found her again, and this time there’s no letting her go.

Soft moans slip from her mouth, running her fingers through his hair and tugging hard, it makes him moan out as well, the vibration coursing through him into her chest.

His hand slips from her breast, trailing down her front, over her stomach to the hem of her underwear, not even wasting time and dipping beneath. Long, thick fingers glide over her slick mound, down to her entrance, where he shoves them inside her as far as they will go. He feels her body go rigid for a moment, a shocked gasp falling from her mouth, before they turn swiftly into whimpers and moans as he fucks her with his fingers.

She’s so wet, it’s easy. And he feels just how tight she is, every single ridge, just the feeling of her hot insides makes him want to bury himself inside of her as much as he can, as often as he deems fit. After a few moments, he finds that rough spot inside, using his fingers to rub hard against it. Her back arches against the wall, pressing her tits against his chest, the hardened buds rubbing almost painfully sensitive against his skin, her hands squeeze his shoulders and he groans at the sensation of her nails digging in.

“Say you want it” he whispers low against her ear.

He knows she does. He feels how wet she is for him, her sounds.

Her eyes crack open, her lips part in pleasured pants, curling up into a hedonistic smile, “No”

His mouth forms a frown. But she knows better.

He pulls his fingers out of her, giving a hard wet slap to her that makes her jolt and her clit throb, then going to tug her underwear down her legs. She kicks at him, writhing in his hold, her small fists trying to push him back.

“I said no”

“Yeah, yeah” Her face whips to one side and she whimpers as her cheek blooms with pain from his palm, “shut the fuck up”

Despite the hot pain on her face, she feels her insides flutter, clenching around nothing as she looks back at him, to see the hard expression he gives as she shoves his shorts past his hips. Her eyes land on his cock, all hard with the angry red tip weeping precum desperately.

“There he is” she smirks.

He props her up against the wall and shoves himself harshly inside her, barely giving her time to adjust to his size and length, until he hits her spongey end. Her chest erupts in a pink flushed colour, air expelled from her lungs.

He trembles slightly as he bottoms out inside her, completely filling her with himself and feeling her walls quiver uncontrollably around him. Squeezing the flesh of her thighs, he thrusts mercilessly into her, seeking the ultimate fulfilment he feels only her body can offer.

Ettore makes few sounds other than his hurried breaths and grunts into her ear, pushing himself so close to her that the only movement is his hips slapping against her thighs and the wet smack of their moist skin meeting each other. He grabs her face, digging into the skin where he’d hit her and keeps her quiet with his lips on hers, moving his tongue against hers. She hears his low sounds in his throat, deep and primal.

They fuck like they’re fighting, as they always had done. Fingers leaving red welts where he’d gripped her too hard, the mark on her cheek reddening, even the lewd sound of her pussy accepting him, it was all angry and aggressive.

She tightens her grip on the hair at his nape, chasing that pressure that was starting to build in her gut. She can feel him grin against her neck, he must be able to feel it too, the way her cunt trembles around him, the way her eyebrows furrow together and her lips caught between her teeth.

“You gonna cum for me?”

“Fuck you” she breathes, her voice strained by desire.

She never wanted to admit the things he did to her, sexual or not, made her feel excited and dangerous all at the same time. He huffs air as he laughs against her, feeling a sheen of sweat begin to cover his back as the effort of fucking her.

“You asked for it” his thumb pushes past her teeth, collecting her saliva on his thumb before dragging it down her body between them, rubbing in fast, furious circles on her overly-sensitive bud. It makes her strain her neck as she throws her head back, a barely-contained moan escaping.

“Just give up”

There’s little resolve left in her, the way his thick cock bullies that spot inside, pushing against her walls at the top in this position. The sheer lewdness of the situation had her nearly forget where they were, just fucking in a random hallway, and it sends a bolt of excitement down her spine at the thought of getting caught.

He watches how he disappears inside her, a ring of her arousal white at the base of him, how wet she sounds with each slap of skin. Hastening the circles on her clit, she grips him at his nape tight as he buries his face against her shoulder, her entire being shuddering as her orgasm blazes a burning trail through every limb, every cell, igniting her in a way only he ever could.

“Fuck-”

It’s the only sound he’s capable of making as an all-body shudder rolls through him. The way she clenches around him, holding him tightly.

He quickly pulls out of her, briefly feeling disappointed at the loss of her tightness, fisting his cock to completion. That is until she falls to her knees in front of him, looking up at him through her eyelashes, watching the way his chest heaves from this angle.

Cock slick with her arousal, watching the way he fists it quickly, she feels that familiar tug of arousal below her belly button.

His fingers thread through her hair, tugging at the crown to pull her face towards him. Holding himself at the base, he drags the tip over her lips, leaving a glistening path of both his and her arousal behind that she quickly collects with her tongue. Her lips chase his length before enveloping the tip in her mouth, running her tongue over the already sensitive slit.

A long, exasperated sound between a breath and a moan rushes out of him, having to lay his hand flat against the wall as she begins to bob her head on him, accepting his cock into her mouth with a renewed vigour, watching how he reacts.

Gripping her hair tight, she hums around him, sending a pleasant roll of warmth up his spine, and he tugs her head towards him, using her face for leverage to fuck himself into her mouth. He feels himself hit the back of her throat, and how her mouth contracts as she gags softly, trying to relax her jaw.

She closes her eyes as he sets his pace, hands resting on his thighs only slightly as she feels his hips press against her face. His cock bullies the back of her throat with a lewd wet sound, and it’s so intense, that she can feel her eyes watering, her slick gathering between her thighs once again and the throb of her previous orgasm still rolling through.

He’s so close and she can feel it, and when she looks up at him, his head is thrown back, chest rising and falling steadily, eyes scrunched shut as his own pressure builds. She would’ve smirked at it, if he wasn’t buried to the hilt in her mouth. He looked the most handsome light this, pink in the face with his muscles of his stomach flexing, trying to hold back.

As soon as her hands cup his balls, hurtling him towards his own orgasm, his jaw slackens and his grip hardens in her hair in such a satisfyingly painful way.

“Shit-” he pulls himself from her mouth, shoving her head back to the wall and she takes a much needed breath in, “Open”

He fists his cock to her open mouth, his blue, wild eyes boring into hers, chest tightening as he comes undone and releases thick ropes of cum onto her waiting tongue. She blinks up at him, both of them smelling of sex and arousal, her breasts heaving with her breathing. In the stark, low light of the corridor, his face looks so sharp, as if it were made of stone, with a glow that almost looked inhuman.

She dives on him again, sucking off the remainder of his cum and pressing her tongue to the underside, tracing the throbbing vein there. The over-stimulation has Ettore shiver slightly, releasing his hold on her for a moment as she pulls off him with a wet pop. He watches with a lewd curiosity as her throat contracts, a sigh from her lips showing how she had swallowed all of him. Her eyes glisten in a kind of gloating pride right up at him, a mischievous glint behind it all as she smiles in satisfaction.

He pulls her up with a hard grip on her arm, letting his eyes fall all over her body.

“Miss me?” she whispers against his lips.

“Shut up” he responds with a grin, crashing his lips to hers. Binding himself to her irreparably.

And even though it damages them both, it just hurts too good to even think about stopping.

dividers by @saradika

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#ettore x you #ettore high life #ettore smut #ettore x reader #ettore #ettore fan fic #ettore fanfic #ettore fan fiction #ettore fanfiction #high life fanfic #high life fanfiction #high life 2018 #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell characters #ewanverse

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