#GOD. GOD. COLLAPSES. IM SORRY IM THE ONE YOU LOVE....

[gilliontidestriderchampionoftheu]

EVERYONE GO HERE NOW

[storywriter007]

HI OH MY GODS!! your writing drives me INSANE in the best way possible and i'm so obsessed with your fics. i was wondering if you could somehow make a fic based on the "no one touches her!" line in the book??

i'm just imagining maybe an argument between percy and reader before the big fight and then the line happens and then maybe end in fluff?? ofc you can take this however you want to!! THANK YOU A MILLION!!

No One Touches Her - Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader

author's note: OMMGGG TYSM!!!! im so glad you like my work!! thanks for the request! i'm sorry it took a while and i hope you like it :)

warnings: cursing, battle, mention of bloof

genre: fluff

word count: 1.1k

-> heroes of olympus masterlist

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send me requests here! (these are my guidelines)

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"you don't care about me!" y/n yelled from across the room. "you never have!"

"do you even hear yourself right now?" percy retaliated, just as loudly. "you know damn well i'd do anything for you!"

a battle was on its way as percy and y/n had their loud disagreement in an unknown sector of camp. she'd loved him for too long. she'd kept faith in him for too long. she'd been "friends" with him for too long.

"really percy! than answer my one fucking question, what are we?"

"you're my best friend!" he answered.

"that's what i mean! you know damn well we're not just 'best friends!'" she said angrily. "i can admit what i feel for you, why can't you do the same?"

"because i don't know!" he confessed. "i don't know."

of course he didn't know how he felt about her. of course he didn't consider the countless nights they'd stayed up and held each other while they wept about their lives. of course he didn't count how many times they'd almost kissed. of course he didn't count her.

"i'll put in words for you." she said softly, her eyes welling up with tears. "more than friends, less than lovers."

a war was about to begin. and now if she died, he would know how she'd truly felt all these years. percy looked at her with empathy and guilt in his eyes, but she turned away, preparing for the worst.

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good thing she had prepared for the worst, because how else would she have been able to fight off four monsters, by herself, with a sprained ankle, blurry vision, and intense fatigue.

she felt herself wobble as she swung her sword, but it made no impact. suddenly, she felt herself drop to her knees as spots of black began to fill her eyesight.

was this it? was this how it was going to end?

she looked around at the hideous faces that surrounded her. she'd die a martyr, a warrior, maybe even a hero. she wondered what her legacy would be; if anybody would remember her. she felt a monster slither closer to her.

"she can't fight anymore." it chuckled. "she's giving up."

"she's worn down." another monster added. "let's finish the job."

dying at the hands of a vicious beast wasn't exactly her top choice, but she couldn't do anything to prevent it. her limbs felt weak, her mind fogged up. she felt herself collapse on the ground. this was it. this was how it was going to end. she took one final look at the warzone around her.

"goodbye y/n." a monster chuckled.

suddenly, the monster began yelling in pain. her eyes fluttered open as she watched the monster float into the air, choking and gasping. then it happened to the next monster, and the next, and the next.

"no one touches her!" an angry, powerful voice yelled.

y/n fluttered her eyes open, squinting so she could see. there he was, in all his glory. percy jackson. she heard a pop sound, realizing that the monsters had exploded. he'd killed them. but he didn't slash and stab them, he bent their blood.

she faintly heard percy's voice as he knelt down next to her.

"y/n? y/n!" he screamed, stroking her hair. "fuck fuck fuck."

she felt herself get moved as her eyes shut.

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she woke up with the same blurry vision. she blinked a few times to clear it up before checking her surroundings. she was in the infirmary. she looked around, and saw someone across from her on her bed. he was looking down at the ground, anxiously bouncing his leg. his hand rested atop hers.

"percy?" she asked, looking at him.

he quickly turned to look at her and his eyes lit up.

"y/n!" he smiled. "you're awake, you're alive!" turning to face her.

will solace came in.

"she's awake!" percy said enthusiathically.

"i know." he smiled. "i heard you from across the hall."

"what happened?" y/n asked

"you were hit, and passed out from losing too much blood." will explained.

percy was still wearing the same tattered clothes from battle.

"i'll give you guys a few minutes, y/n, i'll be right back to check your vitals." will said, exiting the room.

"how long have you been here?" she asked, sitting up a little bit.

"i dunno, twenty-somethin' hours?" he guessed.

"non-stop?"

he shrugged in response.

"percy, i-"

"listen, i know we had a fight beforehand. and the truth is, i wasn't confused, i was scared. i didn't want to ruin everything we had for a relationship. and the thought of losing you freaked me out, so i-i was a dick and i lied."

"percy-"

"just hear me out, y/n. you almost died, and i, i don't know, i just don't think i could live if you weren't here." he admitted. "when you said 'more than friends, less than lovers,' you were wrong. we are more than friends. i love you, i always have, and i'm sorry that i made you doubt that-"

her heart fluttered as the three words left his mouth. she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. his arms gently wrapped around her as her hands cupped his face. he tasted like smoke and salt-water. his hair reeked of battle, and she could feel how rough his skin was. he pushed her back a little, deepening the kiss. it was passionate, it was sweet, it was long overdue.

"holy olympus, get off of her. it's been two minutes since the girl woke up." will said as he returned.

percy, very annoyedly, was forced to pull back as will checked y/n's vitals.

"all good, y/n." he smiled. "you're free to go whenever you're ready. stay light on the sugar. don't push yourself too hard just yet. get plenty of rest."

"thank you will." she smiled back.

"where's my thank you?" percy asked, offended. "i saved your life."

"you ruined my shot at a really cool death." she laughed.

"i'm sure the sugar will get to you before the monsters do." he chuckled, before leaning in to kiss her again.

it was a little more needy this time. it was clear percy had heard will's clearance, because he was a little more firm this time.

"sorry, forgot my stethoscop- for the love of gods jackson." will commented, grabbing his equipment and hitting the back of percy's head.

"ow!" he remarked, rubbing the back of his head.

y/n couldn't help but laugh. percy laid his head on y/n's chest.

"i love you." he said, quietly.

"i love you more." she smiled. "but you've gotta get up before will comes in and yells at you again."

[vampiricgf]

Because I love you enough to turn around

(I will never turn from you)

leon kennedy x f reader

wc: 1k +

warnings : alcoholism, self guilt, self shame, mention of a noose as imagery, angst into like hurt comfort sort of thing

sorry im sick n also been thinking heavily about orpheus and eurydice and what it means to love someone enough to turn around (promise it's not all angst but it's pretty heavy on it)

You're in that twilight space between sleep and wakefulness when the door opens. There's no need to startle because you already know who it is, know from the heavy footfalls that make a particularly loose board on the floor groan as he slips off his boots. Know from the softer padding you catch turning the left hand edge, into the bathroom and just as you think it you hear the light click on.

Not every day can be a good day.

It's what circles around and around in your mind as you catch the sound of the taps squeaking on, the sink running at full blast. At least he has the decency to not climb into bed with you reeking of whiskey and possible bile. But you don't resent him for it.

You've never resented him for anything. Never begrudged him anything. Not the constant distance, the secrecy, the occasional white lie you knew was for your own comfort so you never told him you knew he was lying. Never asked him about details, never pressed him, never let yourself get so overwhelmed you dissolve into hysterics no matter how many times you felt yourself reaching that point.

And you don't do any of that now, as you feel the mattress dip with the additional weight and feel him staring at your back. You'd forgotten you put on one of his old t shirts, just to comfort yourself against the uncertainty of if he'd be back before the sun, aggressive and ever constant, demanded you get up and face another day.

Being with Leon was like being stranded on a sheet of ice. Uncertain of its thickness, if it could handle any fluctuation in weight or pressure. Terrified of every crack and fissure that threatened to spread, to send the portion you found yourself on plunging into subzero depths that would stop your lungs and squeeze like a vice grip over your heart.

But it was exhausting to constantly monitor for those hairline fractures, to be the loving partner while wishing you could just grab his shoulders and scream in his face about how desperately you needed him to get his shit together. But you'd never do that, know he doesn't need it from you of all people.

But you don't turn around. You don't give any indication that you're awake and aware and grieving like some old war widow for the millionth time in your short life for a man that still has breath in his body.

Not even as his fingers run down your bicep, hesitant as if he's touching spun sugar that threatens to melt with the slightest heat.

"I know you're awake."

You don't respond, let the silence hang heavy and imposing as a noose from a solitary beam, but you do turn then to finally take him in. And fresh chips are dug out of your own heart as you do, a proverbial ice pick gradually working to cleave you in half.

God has he always looked so tired?

"You should get some sleep," your hushed voice sounds flat, even to your own ears and you hope he doesn't take it as cruelty when it's not. It's a kind of bone deep, spiritual exhaustion. An unspoken wish for a rest so deep the entire world could collapse around you and you would be none the wiser, uncaring as the sky above and just as unseeing.

"I'm sorry." He says it to no one in particular as he turns away from you, stripping off socks and pants.

As you turn back over your eyes burn in the dark, like someone stuck two searing hot coals into the sockets and you bite your bottom lip hard enough to feel a sting. It's good, it's grounding. You shouldn't cry, not like this, not now. Just another burden added to the lump sum is all it would be.

So you don't, you level your breathing as best you can as you feel him climb back into bed fully this time, tentatively putting a hand on your hip as his chest presses against your back. He touches you like he's afraid.

And you're powerless against the way that one single touch acts as a battering ram, destroying the hurriedly constructed emotional dam in a spectacular splintering of wood, and you feel yourself start to tremble. The moisture from your nose is the next signal of disaster, the sign that there is no undoing what has just occurred. And your eyes are suddenly full of all the water in the world, as if you've drunk dry every sea and river on earth only to refill them from yourself.

It feels more like watching someone else weep and sniffle as if their life depends on it, being the unattached observer before turning away, hand over the mouth to hide the shape of words. Glad it isn't me.

But it is.

His arm comes around you, tightening up as he presses his own face against the back of your neck. And the tears flow ever faster, spurred by the shame of being the emotional one. The one that can't help but be naked in their weakness.

You don't move to shift him away, don't move to get up or hurry to the bathroom. You simply can't be bothered. If nothing else he can witness your grief, and there is a strange sort of comfort in that.

You could wail, berate him about breaking his promises of things being different, being better but what's the point of shooting at something that's already dead?

And it's then that you feel it: wetness spotting against the skin of your neck, rolling down your back before being absorbed by the well worn cotton. You feel it and you turn and your heart breaks again seeing his blue eyes twinged in red, one of the many different shades regret dresses itself in. Your reflection is drowning in saltwater, as if trapped in the sea with no hope of rescue.

So you cling to him, arms around his neck and fingers lacing a crown as you hold each other and you cry as if it might be endless. As if all that might exist for eternity is this: the longing and the waiting and the grieving and the sobbing. But in his embrace there is a hope, a small light that peeks through the cracks, so faint you could almost swear you imagined it.

He doesn't smell like liquor.

And for some reason it makes you sob harder, like you're trying to form the shrieking gale force winds of a hurricane from one small human vocal chord.

"I got hung up when we got back, I tried calling- figured you were asleep." His voice is a fragile thing, shaking as a newborn foal on its unfamiliar feet.

For all that you don't begrudge him neither does he towards you. He can't muster up indignation that you doubted him, not when recently he's given you no reason to believe in him. He knows the biting amber liquid is both a crutch and a dog collar with inward facing spikes. Hasn't ever been able to trace the exact point when he stopped seeking comfort in you and instead sought it in sticky bar tops and grimy shot glasses, a flask snuck into a jacket pocket. But it hardly matters when the damage is done.

He spends every day choking on each word he can't say to you. Each time he comes home like a stray that got in a fight to collapse on your doorstep, it bulges and sticks fast in his throat. Every time you cradle his jaw with your fingertips and clean blood from some fresh wound his esophagus caves in on itself. Every time your eyes get unfocused as they linger on his drunken form before you turn away he feels more of the paint peeling off himself.

All of you has felt so out of focus. So he clings to you now, squeezing your body against his like he might be able to absorb you into himself, tuck you away for eternal safekeeping, if he just tries hard enough. Like if he presses his lips to your cheeks, nose, forehead, again and again you'll gain more opacity with each one, be returned to flesh and blood like a princess turned to stone in a story. Awakened by true loves kiss.

So he kisses you, over and over and over. With each pass of his lips you seem to reanimate, hands fliting around his body like you can't decide where they belong, can't decide what part of him to touch or if you should touch all of him. His own drag the worn out shirt over your head, bare your body to his stinging eyes and it's like a salve for all the wounds that still feel like they're split open and oozing all over the floor.

Your kiss tastes of salt and of pain and of loss and of guilt. He wishes he could unhinge his jaw like a snake, swallow all of that ugliness in one pass and leave you as pristine as you were in the beginning. Before he ruined you. Turned you into a hollowed out city, teetering on the edge of uninhabitable.

But renewal, rebuilding, it's all possible. Crumbling structures can be fixed without ripping down the entire framework. They do it every day, how many does he drive past at any given time?

So his lips carve a tender path down the column of your throat until he's hovering over your heart, placing a kiss so chaste against the skin of your chest it's almost religious. You gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck to hold him still, hold him in just that perfect space above the thundering muscle echoing in his ear as it presses against your warm body.

Not since he was a child has anyone held him so firmly, so tenderly. Not that he would even allow it anyway, not from anyone outside of you. You were the first taste of softness. The first time you whispered that it wasn't selfish to want to be held he felt the fault lines erupting inside himself. It wasn't brave or righteous to continually deny himself or to self flagellate through every word and action, it was nothing but one continual act of self desecration.

But you poured all your love into an empty man, made him whole again and watched as he wasted it. Fresh tears pooled between your breasts, dislodged to drip down your ribs with every breath. He could cry for eternity and it would still never properly express the depth of his shame. Shaking fingers crawl spider like up your sides as he struggles to keep a firm hand on his own breathing, not give into the temptation of rapid, lightheaded madness.

Your fingers marking light trails through his hair soothe him, like calming a thrashing rabbit kicking against its cage. Slowly he can hear his own heart falling into sync with yours, his own chest expanding and sinking in time with yours.

It feels like maybe the world has stopped, stopped and fallen away and all that's left is this room and the two of you. One eternal embrace, stretching out across time like summer saltwater taffy.

And he swears a new promise, whispering against your skin like he could brand the words there forevermore.

I won't waste it.

[miley1442111]

Heyyyy are you still requests?? If yes..................

Last night i relived a painful memory when a loved person told me to shut up in front of our friend group and it was so humiliating and overwhelming, i went dead silent for the rest of the month but still played cool with everyone and everyone knew i was destroyed, wasnt leaving home that much yet and the person who told me to shut up was going trough some shit (ON THAT DAY) and actually never apologized...

SO SORRY FOR THE VENT BUT IT WAS NECESSARY FOR THE PLOT I SWEAR.

What if the reader is the one being told to shut up by none other than RAFE CAMERON who is a very close friend and he told the reader to shut up out loud in the middle of a party in front of your friend group (Kelce and Topper) and the reader also play it cool but it collapse at themself like a dying star and all their light is sucked by the black hole it became. But unlike real life, Rafe doesnt need people telling him he fucked up and he felt terrible and a few weeks later he sees reader on a party, unusually quiet, being dragged by their friends around trying to cheer reader up and the reader still trying to play it cool but the damage was showing and maybe Rafe take the chance to approach you but he doesnt know what to say or what to do so he acts like nothing happened?? IM SORRY THIS IS SO CONFUNSING I JUST WOKE UP AND I HAD TO WRITE THAT BEFORE THE MEMORY FADED. Sorry if i made you feel uncomfortable, just ignore it if you didn like ittt!! I love your writting btw i'll never forget that one ask i did and you answered about Rafe choosing between reader and a lover!!!!

and ask 2:

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talking too much- r.cameron

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a/n: HELLO to the both of you! thank you two so much for requesting, and very sorry that this happened to you :( I'd let you talk my ear off about anything any time :) (ps, great song choice)

pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader

summary: i suggest you look at the requests

warnings: reader kind of loses her spark, rafe is a confused and stressed asshole, reader becomes very insecure, feelings of not being good enough, rafe gets very stressed at the end (i think that's it?)

not entirely proofread

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It was finally nearing the end of June and you were planning your 4th of July party with your friends. Topper, Kelce, Rafe, you, Sarah, and a few of your other friends sat around the table, thinking up ideas for what parties to drop into, and what you were going to wear, etc. You were excited, that was no crime. You’d always been the most excitable in the group, it was just part of your bubbly personality, there was no issue with it. No one had ever been more than a little irritated with it before, no big deal. You’d just apologise and remember to tone it down for those people, but your closest friends weren’t those people. Your closest friends liked your personality, your closest friends liked you. It didn’t matter how loud you were. 

“And then I guess we’ll-”

“God, do you ever shut the fuck up?” Rafe cursed.

The room went silent. You stood still, frozen as people’s eyes turned to you. Sarah offered a look of sympathy, she knew how much you valued Rafe’s opinion, especially since you had a slight crush on him. You felt yourself recoil. How could he be so rude? All you were doing was giving ideas to the group, it’s not like anyone else was trying to speak much, and Rafe definitely wasn’t adding to the conversation. At least, he hadn’t been for the past hour, just sitting in the corner with his leg bouncing and that stupid vein protruding from his stupid neck. You slumped back in your chair, embarrassment filling your mind as you thought over every other interaction with him and the group. Were you annoying? Did they all actually hate you? 

“I don’t hear you talking much Rafe,” Sarah shot back. “Something to say?”

Rafe rolled his eyes. “Fuck off Sarah,” he scoffed and waited for you to bounce back and start speaking again. You didn’t. He looked up as the group started speaking again, going off of all the plans you’d started. You were just sitting there, on your phone. 

You just waited until someone actually asked you a question to give your input, and even then all you said was; “Sounds good.”

He’d fucked up. Big time. 

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It had been a week since ‘the incident’, and Rafe hadn’t seen you. He felt awful, absolutely disgraced after what he’d said. He was stressed, it was a bad moment, and he took it out on you. He was sorry. But how was he supposed to tell you that? How was he supposed to explain how sorry he was, explain that he was just stressed? How would you believe him? You two had never been the closest in the friend group, not to say you two didn’t speak, but you two weren’t exactly attached at the hip like you were with Sarah, or Kelce. All you’d ever been to him was nice, not something he was sure he deserved, but he appreciated it all the same. 

How could he get back to that?

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“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Sarah begged over the phone. 

“I’m tired, I was working all day-”

“Come on, you’ve been dodging all week! 4th of July is coming up, I don’t want to hang out with Kelce and Top without you,” she whined, 

“I’ll be there for the 4th, I’m just busy right now,” you sighed. “I promise I’m ok,” you lied. 

“If you’re staying home because of what Rafe said, I’ll kill him,” she swore. 

“I don’t give a shit about what Rafe said,” lie. “I’m just busy, promise.”

Sarah sighed. “Alright, see you on the 4th!”

And with that, you hung up. The last week had been one long pity-party that made you feel even worse about yourself, deciding that your friends were better off without you, especially when you can’t even bounce back from one tiny insignificant comment from one random guy. That’s what you thought anyway. But now, you had 3 days before the 4th, and you weren’t sure how you were going to get the courage to face any of them. 

Not that they hadn’t reached out. Everyone who was there (aside from Rafe) had called or texted to ask if you were ok, and apologised for not saying anything. Kelce had felt the worst, since he was supposed to be your best friend, and he hadn’t said anything. You brushed them off, promising them it was fine, promising them you were fine. They barely believed you, but you somehow convinced them that you were busy. You told half of them that you were packing for your move, and the other half that you had gotten a job at your mom’s company. I mean, technically you were a few weeks out from moving away and you should be packing, and technically you did just get a job at your moms’ company (managing the online presence and doing admin work), but really both those jobs were easy. You could’ve done them for a few hours, then seen your friends. But you didn't want to. You didn’t want to feel like a burden. 

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The day of the 4th rolled around and Sarah picked you up with all the girls in the group in her car. You looked gorgeous in your short red dress, at least that’s what Sarah told you. You kept your mouth shut as the girls gossiped and sang along to songs, only interjecting when truly necessary. When you got to the beach, you managed to break away from the girls and get a drink, standing alone as you watched the night go by. You liked people watching, you found it interesting to see the small micro-expressions on peoples faces, the snippets of their conversations, and everything in between. 

“Hi,” Rafe smiled softly. He was in front of you, blocking your view of the people you were looking at. 

“Hi,” you answered meekly. 

He stood there for a moment as you tried to look over his shoulder, but the group were gone. You sighed in defeat and turned around to pour yourself another drink. 

“How are you?” he asked. 

“Fine thanks,” you answered. “You?”

“Good, fine… yeah,” the awkwardness in his voice almost made you physically cringe. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“It’s been like a week?” you questioned. In the past week, Rafe had realised how much he missed you, and how much you added to the group. He missed how you brightened up everyone, how you kept the peace by being close with almost everyone, how you made him laugh. 

“What have you been up to?” He scratched the back of his neck, his nerves almost getting the better of him, almost making him turn around and not do this. Almost.

“Not much. Working, packing, usual stuff,” you shrugged. 

Rafe’s expression faltered. “Packing?”

“I’m moving in a few weeks,” you explained. “So you won't see me for a while.”

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. 

Absolutely not. 

Rafe felt his stomach sink. “Why?”

“‘Why’ what Rafe?” you asked, genuinely confused. Why, out of all people, would he care?

“Where?”

“Just main-land, but a bit further into the city so I’m moving schools,” you shrugged.

“But it’s our senior year?”

“Yeah? And?”

“We all said we’d do it together, remember?”

“It wasn’t my choice to move,” you scoffed. “And also, why are you acting like this is new information? Tonight is my ‘last hurrah’ get-together. We’re doing the stupid sleepover.”

“W-what?”

“We didn’t invite you,” Sarah butted in. “You were a dick, now you reap the consequences.”

You rolled your eyes at the shocked look on Rafe’s face. “Night Rafe, see you around.”

Rafe stood frozen as you walked away, shocked. Had he really not been listening for so long? Had he really missed that? You were moving, you were gone. And there was nothing he could do about it. 

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obx masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

[ruewrote]

𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑒.

PAIRING: carl gallagher x fem!reader WARNINGS: none GENRE: angst? mostly fluff SONG INSPIRATION: there for you by martin garrix WORD COUNT: 748

navigation | ask | shameless masterlist

it had been well past dark when you got the call. carl’s words coming out frantic and rushed. this would happen on occasion, he felt the most comfort talking to you about his problems, thoughts and feelings.

as of late he had been drifting from you doing god knows what, whatever it was — it distanced the two of you. it hurt you, cut deep.

you were always connected at the hip ever since you had started high school. carl had taken an interest in you almost instantly, it started with him sitting at the other end of your empty table at lunch, a greeting of a small nod, turned into a wave and more.

it wasn’t hard to fall in love with carl, whatsoever.

it made it easier as he’d make sure no one messed with you in school,

as he’d walk you home to make sure you were safe even though you lived down the street from him.

even helped him with studies after juvie.

you wrote him every single day, not knowing if he would write back or even care.

he did.

he’d never let you know but he had saved each and every note that you sent to him in a little box under his bed, carl knew no one would ever go under there so it was his little secret.

fiona was beyond grateful for you. not just for looking out for carl, but for when you’d offer to babysit liam or help out with some chores around the house.

you were basically part of the family. being there every single time monica decided to turn up and do a shitty job of parenting then flunk off when it didn’t go to plan.

holding carl as he cried in your arms everytime, until the day when she passed and it was time where he had to finally come to terms with it all.

the point is, you had been through a lot with him so whenever you’d get a call no matter what time or day you’d pick up.

this had been one of those times.

“i-i’m sorry for calling, i k-know that i’ve not been in touch lately and i was so stupid for not c-calling you sooner — b-but i need you.”

with that said you ended the call, throwing on your slippers — crawling out of your window and making a run for the gallagher's front door.

you didn't care about the chance of someone seeing you running down the street in your pyjamas not like it'd be the weirdest anyone would see around here.

sliding to a stop as you arrived at the house, he was sat on the bottom step, head in his hands.

"oh carl..."

gasping as you saw the stitches in his forehead, instantly running over and grasping his face in your hands checking him over asking him a thousand questions at once.

but stopping mid sentence when you notice the tear stains on his cheeks - as his bottom lip wobbled at the familiarity of it all.

"im s-sorry for calling you so late-" his apologies were cut short as you pulled him into a hug. he sobbed into your shoulder, eyes tearing up as you feel him collapse into your touch.

sitting down where he had sat previously not letting go of him in the process.

carl's hands dug into the soft material of your shirt as his sobs turned to sniffles.

he pulled away just enough so you could see his face, letting you gently wipe away his tears.

“do you want to talk about it?” the only response you got was a shaken head.

“well if it helps i’ve missed your dumbass.” punching his arm lightly before leaning into his side, listening to the sound of your light breathing and dogs barking in the distance.

“'missed you too, it’s been too long since i last saw you.” you just gave him a slight nod as the sadness takes over you and a frown replaces your smile.

you and carl decided to make your way to 7/11 to get slushies, catching up as you walked home hand-in-hand, bumping each others shoulders as you walked down the path to your house.

slipping back into your window, bundling up under the covers.

carl laying on your chest, you stroking his hair lulling the both of you into a deep sleep.

you’d decided that you wouldn't let time come between the pair of you again.

© ruewrote.

[s6ngbird]

gag reflex — felix catton ᯓ★

⊹₊⋆ warnings — nsfw, pretty much no plot, oral (f. & m. receiving), lmk if i missed anything

⊹₊⋆ pairing — felix catton x fem!reader

⊹₊⋆ a/n — sorry for the disappearance! schools been kicking my ass lately but im working on some coryo stuff rn

masterlist | bc: @cafekitsune

you had wandered around for a while, looking for felix at his halloween party, intoxicated and stumbling around 

you couldn't really differentiate the many people since everyone was dressed up in their own costumes, including yourself

most of the time if you ever lost felix in a crowd, you would just look up and see his head since he was so fucking tall

but your eyes felt heavy and you couldn't really look up, the feeling of all those sleepless nights of studying finally catching up to you at the worst time possible

you stumbled up the stairs to felix's room, getting lost a few times before finding his room and face planting on his bed, ready to let sleep overtake you 

until you hear a tsk tsk sound and look over to see felix coming in the room, adored in a police jacket along with a police hat

“what are you doing here?” you ask, confused that he wasn't downstairs and being the life of the party

“what am i doing here?” he laughed, shaking his head, “bunny this is my room remember? or are you too drunk to even remember my name?”

you groan as he collapses on top of your body, attacking your neck with kisses, the liquor still present in his breath

“oh my fucking god you weigh a shit ton!” you yell, trying to push him off but your attempts were useless as he continued to linger on your back, leaving marks and bruises that you were going to have to cover up tomorrow

he eventually goes limp, or so you think, but then he slides down your back, getting on his knees and yanks your panties down

you gasp, trying to move away from him in panic but he pulls you right down, flipping you over and silencing your protests with a messy kiss full of teeth and tongue 

he moves down, licking a stripe up your pussy, eliciting a loud moan from you as you grasp onto his hair

he takes that as the green light, not caring about how loud you are now as he devours your cunt, your juices wetting his whole chin as you moan and grip his hair, it's amazing how you haven't pulled it out yet 

his tongue fucks into you, his nose brushing your clit everytime his tongue goes in fully, adding an extra pressure to bring you over the edge faster

“you close love?” felix asked, his words creating vibrations that echoed in your pussy and that was it for you, you were pushed over the edge, moaning out his name loudly as he licked up all of your cum, praising you for being such a good girl for him

you breathed heavily , catching your breath after that orgasm, and then looked down, spotting the huge bulge in felix's pants

“can i take care of that…?” you ask him, looking up with big eyes in hopes that he'll be more likely to say yes

“go ahead doll” he says, swapping positions with you so that you were now on the ground on your knees and he was on the bed, his legs caging you in between them 

he pulled off his pants and boxers, realizing his painfully hard cock leaking precum

you stared it in amazement until felix tapped your cheek, a reminder that you were not on your knees to stare at his cock

“c'mon doll, suck my dick or i can always just shove it down your throat, which one sounds better hm?” he asks, playing with your hair as he waits for your answer

you're snapped back into reality at his words as you hesitantly start to take his cock in your mouth, licking and sucking it

you had only gave him a blowjob once and you had no idea what your were doing the whole time, so felix took control that time but you wanted to show him that you could figure it out on your own this time

his cock hits the back of your throat and you gag, forgetting about that pesky gag reflex of yours as you pulled off of him, gasping for breath

“let me just take the lead love” felix coos, wiping away your tears from the lack of oxygen

you shake your head but he shushes you, pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail and shoving his cock down your throat, making you gag again as you try to gasp for air

your attempts remain fruitless as he continues to slam his cock down your throat with no remorse, disregarding your tears that have fallen down onto your legs now

he groans loudly, praising you for taking him in your mouth so well, hissing once or twice because you've accidentally put your teeth on his cock

“‘m so close, you gonna be my good doll and take all of it?” felix asks, opening his eyes and looking down at you

you're almost in a daze but he yanks on your ponytail, bringing you back to reality as your frantically nod, not even sure why you're nodding

he groans, reaching his climax and spilling his cum down your throat as you gag not only from his cock but from the amount of cum you're being forced to swallow 

once felix is sure that you've swallowed all of it, he removes his cock from your mouth, pulling on a pair of boxers and dressing you in a shirt he has laying around in his dorm and pulling you up on the bed next to you

“i wasn't too harsh, right?” he asks, pulling you in his arms and kissing your neck

you shake your head and he sighs in relief, stroking your thigh with one hand as the other holds you close

he smiles into your hair, and you slowly feel the effects of your activities overtake you until you open your eyes because felix is now muttering things into your hair. they're incoherent but this sentence is loud and clear, as if he wants you to hear,

“now all we need to do is get rid of that pesky gag reflex of yours”

[zweig-eater]

MESSY LOVE patrick zweig

you stared at him blankly as he rambled out some other excuse for his behavior. you had been fighting too long, and you were numbed and tired of it all. your head hurt and your heart was aching. after all this time, still nothing had been accomplished. patrick still believed he was in the right and he was even going to great lengths to make you believe that as well.

“you know, you are actually being quite selfish” he said, and that one line caught your attention back.

“how fucking dare you patrick… you are un-fucking believable.” you spit back at him with tears stinging the waterline of your eyes. you continued, only fueled by the hurt settling in your chest. “i’m selfish? for wanting to be more then some fuck buddy you use to get off?” your words felt like daggers as his gaze dropped. “i’m selfish? for thinking we could be something real? for holding you to promises you have made?”

as you laid into him, your head was pounding, eyes burning, and your body just felt entirely weakened. this was all getting to you, and you just wanted to sink into some sort of comfort and be safe for the night.

“can't you see how bad you're hurting me?” you asked, almost desperately, as a tear finally fell from your eye; and you sat, collapsing down on your bed, giving into the exhaustion this fight had forced you into.

and just like that patrick was on you. his feet moved so swiftly you hardly noticed before he was kneeling right in front of you. his hand reached up to your cheek and held the side of your face, fingers hooking around to the back of your neck and stabilizing you.

“hey, hey, look at me… im right here. i’m sorry baby, i’m so sorry” he pleaded with you. his rigid and cocky exterior cracking and falling immediately at the clear sign of you in pain. he was kneeling in front of you, sitting between your knees hanging off the bed. his free hand wrapped around the back of your calf, sweetly stroking it.

you grabbed at his shoulders, fisting his shirt, both pushing him away and pulling him in. even you weren't sure where or how close you wanted him. on one hand, he was the only person who you wanted comforting you right now. but on the other hand, he was the reason you were in this state in the first place.

“n-no, no youre not” you refuted with tears streaming profusely now. “you’re not sorry pat, you don't even ca-”

“y/n i'm in love with you” he cut you off before you could finish whatever you were trying to say. before you could continue thinking any longer that you werent the most important thing in his life. you were, and he knew that. and it scared him. he was never the type to fall in love, or to trust, or to be entirely vulnerable with someone. but you brought it out of him, and he was done running from that feeling.

your eyes met his, widening at his confession. you were staring at him, your mouth slightly agape as your fuzzy brain wrecked itself to try and wrap around what he had just said.

“you're the best thing that has ever happened to me. and i'm an idiot for letting you spend even a minute not knowing that” his hands settled around your waist, arms resting on the bed. his fingers lightly traced your lower back and lulled you ever so closer to him. “you have set every inch of my being on fire and i refuse to imagine living a day of my life without you. i’ve never been in love, and it terrifies me.. i’m scared of what i might do to ruin this, or how i might make you hate me. but i know now that i’m willing to risk it. i’m so ready to learn all the beautiful and messy aspects of true devotion with you. because you are worth it. god, y/n, you are worth fighting any amount of fear or pain for.” he finished, eyes welling with water himself now.

you stayed silent. you let every word he said soak into your skin, then your muscles, then your heart. gently, your hands raised, one resting in the crook of his neck, the other finding his curls. together they guided his face up and towards yours. He watched you so closely, as he let you move him into you. his lips quivered with longing as they inched closer to yours. a faint tearful sigh escaped his lips just as they latched onto yours.

his hands gripped you with the force of a man clinging to a life support, yet still with the gentleness of you being a delicate porcelain doll. the kiss held so much passion you thought you might both catch on fire. burning with love and the need for the other to feel how important they were. your tongues swirled together as if trying to get infinitely closer to the other. as you pulled away, both your cheeks stained with tears, patricks lips quirked up into a smile for the first time all night.

“you’re an asshole” you told him, gently pushing his shoulder and grinning dumbly at him. his eyes gleamed at you, so full of love, his pupils were blown out and everything. “why couldnt you just say that before we wasted all night arguing?” you asked, giggling and hooking your hands under his arms, tugging him lightly to join you on the bed.

“where’s the fun in that?” he quipped back sarcastically as he crawled onto the bed and hovered above you, pushing you on your back. “you’re so beautiful” he whispered, dazing at you, like you had never seen before. “i’m so sorry baby, i shouldn't have argued… let me make it up to you” he smirked as his head dipped down and planted a sweet but wet kiss on your neck.

as his head lifted and eyes locked back onto yours. you swallowed any fear left in your throat and returned his confession with how you truly felt about him. “i love you pat,” you told him. the words sounded so sweet he needed his lips back onto yours to taste them.

“i love you baby, so much” was the last thing he said before he kissed you again, this time with a new level of tenderness.

[wileys-russo]

small intimate interactions - ficlet?🥺

small intimate interactions ficlet

"lee! get off." you whined as the blonde collapsed herself into you, long limbs wrapping around your waist trapping you in her arms. "no you're comfy." the english girl mumbled into your shirt as you tried to yank her hands off.

"i need to go and shower you leech!" you laughed as leah leaned more of her bodyweight onto you, the two of you sat side by side by your cubby in the change rooms after training. "yeah you do actually, you smell terrible." leah agreed scrunching up her nose but still made no move to get off of you as you scoffed.

"god i feel sorry for your future wife having to put up with you, i'll be sure to give her a medal." you rolled your eyes as the skipper grinned, kissing your cheek with a loud mwah and letting go of you.

"leah!" you shot her a glare as she whipped you with her towel once you'd stood and started to walk back to the showers. "wasn't me!" the blonde shrugged tossing her towel back into her cubby. "oh yes i suppose it was casper the friendly footballer ghost was it?" your voice dripped with sarcasm.

"must have been. i'll chat to the staff, get them to give the place a good cleansing! cheeky little thing he is." leah tutted swatting at the air as if to ward off bad spirits as you couldn't help but smile.

"you are such a child." you stripped off your jersey and tossed it so it landed on her head, the blonde peeling it off and staring after you with a grin.

"please let me meddle. they are disgustingly oblivious about how much they're in love, its been years now its killing me!" beth begged lia from the other side of the room who shook her head.

"no! they will figure it out on their own whenever they are ready." the swiss warned sternly, beths puppy dog eyes doing nothing as the blonde scowled and let out a huff.

"nah im backin beth here. they just need a good kick up the arse to realise!" katie wandered over as beth gave lia a pleading look who once more shook her head. "viv, help me out?" she looked to the dutchie who backed up her point making beth groan again.

"look! case in point leahs been ready to leave for ages, but she's clearly just waiting around for her even though they drove separately. they're probably off for one of their little movie night sleepovers none of us are ever invited to." beth rolled her eyes.

"probably. but thats their choice, you don't get to meddle and mess about and stick your noses into their personal relationship whatever it may be. let nature run its course!" lia warned sternly again before bidding all three girls goodbye, wandering over to hug leah goodbye.

"you're not leaving yet?" lia questioned as they broke apart, the blonde bouncing her knee as she twirled her keys around on her finger. "nah, movie night. gotta give that one a proper education on the historical importance of prime english cinema!" leah yelled the last few words in your direction as you appeared now showered and changed, flipping her off.

lia leaving you waved her off and grabbed your things, kicking away leah who poked and prodded at you impatiently whining that she was hungry and you needed to hurry up.

eventually the two of you exited the change rooms without even sparing anyone else a glance, leahs arm draped over your shoulder as the two of you started to argue what movie you were going to watch first.

"see? hopeless." "love really is blind!"

~

"what are those for!" leah asked wide eyed as you grabbed out a bag of asian greens from the freezer and rolled your eyes. "my dinner, you've got nuggets and roasties in the oven don't worry." you cooed mockingly, squeezing her cheeks between your fingers.

"thank god for that! here i was thinking you were tryin to poison me woman." leah breathed a sigh of relief, scowling as you teased the way her 'th' sounded like 'f'. "i told you to stop that its bullying!" leah huffed throwing a packet of crisps in your direction which you ducked.

"hey! no throwing my groceries williamson or you can start paying for them." you warned her as leah ooohed with a grin. "i'm so scared." leah drawled as you held up the spatula in your hand menacingly.

"better be, i'd kick your ass." "i think we've proven time and time again shorty that it is indeed me who is the kicker of ass between us." "thats because you cheat every single time we fight!" "no i do not i just utilise the element of surprise and the fact you are about half the size of a regular human being."

"oo its your mum!" leah perked up as your phone rang with an incoming facetime call, leah clicking accept and propping it up against a vase of flowers before you could even say a word.

"hello terri!" leah greeted happily with a smile as your mother eagerly greeted her back, the two having met a few times and talking often as leah and you were almost always in one anothers company.

"mum its like...nine in the morning in mebourne, what do you want?" you chuckled as leah wandered over, propping the phone up by the stove and standing beside you as you cooked.

"thats no way to speak to your mother! maybe she just misses her daughter who lives on the other side of the world now." leah pinched you making you squeal and punch her in the shoulder.

"see! leah gets it chicken." your mum laughed at your dynamic as leahs taller body leaned into yours, hugging you from behind. "yeah chicken." leah teased the nickname making you roll your eyes and threaten to throw out her dinner as she fell silent.

the three of you caught up as you cooked, leah remaining stuck to you throughout which wasn't anything new, the two of you always having had a very affectionate friendship.

in fact you'd always been quite a touchy person by nature so to you it wasn't anything out of the ordinary.

but when leah excused herself to use the bathroom and you'd pulled out her dinner and started to dish up, your mum flagged it. "you two are awfully cuddly tonight." the older woman spoke with a look you knew too well making you sigh.

"just friends with healthy habits of affection mum, you can stop now." you warned, your mum forever having had the habit of assuming any new person in your life you were secretly dating, despite your assurance that if you were dating someone she would not be meeting them until you were ready and as your partner, not a friend.

"okay im just saying it like i see it! shes a lovely girl, and you two seem very close." "we are mum, very close friends."

~

"yeah you should come visit next summer! i'll even teach you how to surf." you grinned to jacob whose face lit up, sat around the table with leah, her mum and brother for dinner a couple of days later.

noticing how homesick you were your first few weeks in england leah had quickly welcomed you into her own family in an attempt to mend that hole. taking you to weekly dinners or game nights much as you'd allow her to drag you along, her family nothing but kind to you the entire time you'd known them.

"wouldn't you need to know how to surf first?" leah questioned as you smacked her arm playfully. "least i don't look like i don't know how to swim." you teased, her grin dropping at the comment.

based around a tiktok trend kyra had made the statement the other day that leah looked like she used floaties when she swam, causing a cut that was very deep to the defenders pride.

"i can swim! you've seen me do it!" leahs fist banged down onto the table as you threw your head back laughing at how quickly she bit, jacob joining in as leah shot him a glare and stomped on his foot from across the table.

"alright alright! enough, leah you're on drying duty come on." amanda chuckled but broke up the bickering as leah looked ready to lunge at either one of you.

"what! i am a guest here, jacob can do it." leah protested but with a firm look from her mum got up from the table with a sigh, making a point to tug at your ear and smack the back of jacobs head before following after amanda into the kitchen.

"stop that mopey look if the wind changes you'll be stuck with it forever." her mum smiled in amusement handing leah another plate to dry, the english womans face turned downward into a sour frown as she heard you and jacobs laughter echo through from the living room.

"you know if i had to paint a picture of my ideal daughter in law she'd be the perfect muse." amanda started with a nod toward you in the other room, causing leahs head to whip up so fast it would have spun off if not connected to her neck.

"mum!" "what? she's a beautiful girl and an even more gorgeous person on the inside, surely you of all people can see that?" "well obviously but we're just friends. people can be friends and not in love with one another now mum its the twenty first century!" leahs voice dripped with sarcasm but her mum didn't miss the defensive edge to it either.

"whatever you say love. all im saying is you like to bang on and on about getting older and not wanting to miss out on the more domestic goals of life-" her mum held up a soapy hand to cut leah off as she tried to interrupt.

"-and here you are with the solution potentially right under your nose. you might not see it but the way you look at her...don't let a good thing pass you by baby girl." her mum warned and suddenly changed topics, leah frowning but not bothering to backtrack on the conversation.

the two of you were just friends, right?

[hunterwritings]

I love your Miguel with a bubbly reader! Can we please see more of it? Like maybe Miguel is scolding the other Spiders and Reader walks in and Miguel is like a whole new person but still wants to murder the other Spiders? It makes me think of the tik tok where its like "IM GOING TO KILL THE NEXT PERSON I SEE" *Reader walks in* "Hi honey!" *Miguel with heart eyes* "Your back! I missed you so much (insert Miguel gushing about how much he loves Reader in front of Spiders)"

THIS IS THE TROPE I LIVE FOR

only for you | miguel o'hara

summary: Miguel acts like a completely different person with you around. warnings: none | wc: 1075

"How could you let something like this happen?!"

Miguel was seething; Miles swears he could almost see smoke coming out of his ears. The spider teens had almost disrupted another canon event and almost caused the universe to collapse.

"Listen Miguel, I know the kids made some mistakes but, that's exactly what they were! Mistakes!" Peter B. Parker tried to reason with him, with his hands stretched out and a stupid smile on his face.

"You want to put the fate of the multiverse on a goddamn mistake? I will not risk that." Miguel fired back.

"To be honest, I don't know what the big deal is, they ended up fixing it." Peter added. Miguel snapped his head around to face him, his eyes would be burning holes through him if looks could kill.

"No Peter, you don't understand the importance of this! And clearly, neither do you all!" He said, gesturing towards the teens. "It just shows that you are just as responsible as a child! So Peter, do yourself a favor, and shut the hell up." Miguel had venom laced in his words.

"Ooo...kay." Peter responded, shaking his head and pursing his lips together.

"Miguel, we know that we made mistakes and we are sorry, it will never happen again." Gwen tried to apologize genuinely to him.

"Uh, I don't apologize actually, I see nothin' wrong with what we did-" Hobie protested, Pavitr elbowed him to signal him to stop.

"You all know exactly what we do here, you know the importance of keeping everything in line. I'm this close to kicking you all out of Spider Society!" He yells, showing his fingers pinched together.

"You can't kick us out if we all quit!" Hobie laughs.

"Hobie!" Gwen snaps her head around at him.

"I- I- I can't even deal with you right now!" Miguel holds his pointer finger and thumb to his temples as he turns his back to them.

Just then, you swing in from the other side of him and jump down to land next to him. "Hi Miguel." You smile as he turns to look at you.

"Gracias a Dios [thank god], I'm so glad you're here (Y/N)." He seemed to have relief flow into his body as he reached over a pulled you into his chest. You chuckled in surprise from the sudden affection as he tightly wraps his arms around your shoulders. "Felt like I was about to lose it in a couple more seconds." He whispers into your ear.

"Well luckily, I showed up right on time then." You giggle as he lets you go and you look up at him with a smile.

"You have no idea." He smirked and shook his head.

"Oh thank god you're here (Y/N), I was afraid he was gonna start biting soon!" Peter laughed as you turned around to face the group. Miguel stared him down.

"Soo, what's going on here?" You curiously ask.

"Trying to have a serious conversation with people who have no respect for what we do around here." He snaps to them.

"Don't look at me! I wasn't even there, I'm just trying to stand up for the kids!" Peter says, holding his hands up in defense. Miguel just groans and shakes his head.

"Oh Miguel, maybe you should go a little easy on them." You say, walking up to him. He rests his hands on your hips and sighs when you lie your hand on his cheek. "I mean, we should be happy that no one got hurt and the universe is still intact." you smile at him and he matches your smile.

He hums in response. "Plus, I think this lecture will scare them enough to where this shouldn't happen again." You add.

"You'd be surprised how many of these talks I've had." He scoffs and smirks.

You laughed loudly. "Just remember they're kids and they're trying their best." You smiled and he nodded. "Be easy on them." You added.

"I will." He said softly.

You grinned before leaning up and pulling his neck down to pull him into a sweet kiss. You felt him smile against your lips as he hummed. You pulled away and smiled at him before hearing a beeping on your watching.

"Oh, I've got a situation going on in my universe." You say tapping the hologram on your wrist.

"You need any help with it?" Miguel asks, ready to leave in a second if asked him to.

"No, it's nothing major, don't worry. It shouldn't take that long, I should be back before dinner." You say, pressing another quick kiss to his lips before turning and walking the other way.

"Oh! Maybe I'll grab some food from that Italian place we always go to!" You say, walking backwards to face him and smiling widely while opening up a portal behind you.

"Sounds like a good plan, my love." He agrees with a smile.

You chuckle before pulling down your mask and jumping into the portal as it closes.

Miguel's smile lingers on his face before seeing Peter B. Parker in his peripheral before he slung his arm around his shoulder and laughed. "Oh wow, you really love them huh? I can tell by the way you don't act like a raging monster when they're around." He jokes as Miguel just stares ahead, his demeanor was agitated. "Get off of me, Peter." He said with no emotion.

"Okay, not gonna risk getting my arm torn off today." He says, backing off from Miguel.

"Aw, seems like you're really in love, eh?" Hobie jokes and Gwen shoves him slightly.

"You're not helping, Hobie." Miles says anxiously.

"I'm not trying to." Hobie says in all seriousness.

"Okay, everyone out. We're done here. " Miguel says with his back turned to them and his hands on his hips.

"Let's leave before he changes his mind." Gwen whispers to the rest of them.

"If I have to do this again for any of you, it's gonna be the last time." Miguel warns as he points at them.

"Yes Miguel, we understand and we promise." Gwen says genuinely.

Miguel sighs and turns his back to them as they all turn to leave the room. A slight smile came to face at the thought of you prancing back into his space with food in hand. He stood and watched his communicator in case you needed his help, and waited for you to come back.

[holllandtrash]

death of me | carlos sainz

pairing: carlos sainz jr. x reader

in short, the three times you didn't tell carlos you loved him and the one time it was almost too late.

i actually had 2 requests with these prompts so this is those requests 1: “You’re leaving because it’s easier to walk away than to fight for what you really want” 11: “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I love you when I knew I did.” 94: “Look me in the eyes and tell me that.”

Word count: 9.8k

warnings/tags: 18+ angst, fluff, plot with some smut, very light dom/sub blink and you miss it, this is a goddamn rollercoaster im sorry

17 August 2023

You got the call and honestly, you thought it was a joke. Some horrible, practical joke that someone in your life had set up because they knew it would get to you.

Which is why you laughed when you heard the person on the other line say, “There’s been an accident.”

“Yeah, okay,” you snorted, rolling your eyes as you dried the bowl in your hand, finally getting to the stack of dishes you had been neglecting since this morning. “Who put you up to this?”

“No, this isn’t a joke, Miss,” the woman on the line said. “I’m calling from the Jiminez Diaz Hospital. There’s been an accident. Carlos Sainz Jr. was involved in a car accident. He’s-

You didn't hear the rest of whatever the nurse had to say. The ringing in your eyes drowned her out, along with the bowl slipping from your grasp and crashing onto the floor, pieces of blue ceramic shattered around your feet.

Frozen, you tried to listen to the calming voice on the other end of the line, the voice telling you that he was undergoing surgery. She couldn’t provide any more additional information, but she encouraged you, as his emergency contact, to come to the hospital as soon as you possibly could.

As you hurried to find your keys, your relationship with Carlos flashed before your eyes. Every moment, every laugh, every kiss, every fight, every word said and unsaid.

And god there were way too many words you hadn’t got the chance to say.

31 December 2022

Carlos grabbed hold of your waist and you giggled before slipping out of his hold, reaching for the bottle of champagne on top of the fridge. He tried to take it from you, knowing that you probably weren’t going to be able to successfully open it but you just aimed the cork in his direction and he backed off.

“That’s the third bottle,” Carlos told you, he wasn’t scolding, just casually pointing out that you were going to have a massive headache tomorrow morning.

“And it’s about to be the twenty-third year,” you said. Which was technically incorrect, but Carlos admired your excitement too much to correct you. You pointed the bottle in the direction of the hallway and he braced himself for the cork to go flying. 

When you managed to pop it off without his help, the bubbly liquid came pouring out the side and you laughed as you held it up above Carlos’ face, instructing him to open his mouth. He listened, but your aim was horrible and the champagne spilled down the side of his chin.

“Here,” Carlos said, taking the bottle from you. You looked up at him and smiled, needing to take a second to focus on him and not on how the walls behind him were spinning. Carlos’ touch was soft as he brushed his thumb over your lower lip, opening your mouth enough for him to pour some of the champagne down your throat as well.

You were drunk, but you were still standing so you considered that a win. You just needed to last twelve more minutes till midnight and then you could collapse on the couch with him if you wanted. 

The two of you were supposed to go out to a house party that his friend was throwing. But then you walked out of the bedroom wearing a silk red dress that stopped at your thighs and your hair in perfect waves that looked ideal for Carlos to tangle his fingers through and he quickly decided that he didn’t want to share you going into the New Year. The only person he wanted to celebrate with was you.

So he grabbed one of the champagne bottles and picked you up, hoisting you over his shoulder as you squealed. He carried you back into the room you just walked out of and as much as he admired the dress on you, it looked so much better stained with champagne and crumpled on the floor.

You had only been together a few weeks, you were still in the honeymoon stage, which is part of the reason why you were more than happy to just stay at home with him tonight. You couldn’t get enough of him, and Carlos felt the same.

Carlos worshipped you. He had ever since the night you first met, which just so happened to be the first time you slept together.

He wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a hookup after catching his eye at the club. You were supposed to go home the next morning, but how could you go home when he woke you up by leaving a trail of kisses down your naval and then across your thighs before he dove into your centre. He worked his tongue through your folds, not slowing until you were seeing stars. 

When you did finally cum, legs convulsing around him, Carlos licked up every drop of your juices and then his lips found their way back to yours. He told you he wanted you to taste yourself on his tongue and that was when you knew you were absolutely fucked. 

Carlos knew your body, he knew how to pleasure you in ways you didn’t even know were possible. It was the sexual drive and the lust between you that drove you to him in the first place, but you stayed for so much more.

You stayed because he memorised your coffee order after the first morning you spent together. You stayed because he listened to you talk about your family for, you timed it, three and a half hours because he wanted to hear all about the ties and the drama and the people that raised you. You stayed because Carlos treated every date like the first one, always looking for ways to impress you, to make you blush or smile.

So there were, four weeks later and ignoring his friends and the promise you made to celebrate New Years Eve with them, because let’s face it, Carlos much preferred having you on your knees in front of him than having to make small talk until the clock struck midnight. 

His fingers twisted through your hair as he released into your mouth and pulled out of you, but before you could swallow he kept your mouth open with a tight grip on your chin. Carlos grabbed the champagne bottle next to him and poured the bubbly liquid down your throat. The subtle twitch of his eyebrow was the instruction you were waiting for and you swallowed, tasting the sweet and salty mixture of champagne and him. 

You spent your evening tangled up in the sheets, you on top of him, him on top of you. When you left for a moment to go grab a second bottle of champagne, Carlos followed and hoisted you up on the counter, picking up right where you left off.

Now you were drunk. It was the champagne, yes, but it was also Carlos. He was intoxicating, he made you feel bubbly more than the drink itself did. He’s the one you couldn’t get enough of. With his shaggy, dark hair and even darker gaze, you pulled his face to yours and wiped the excess liquid from his chin. You sucked on the pad of your thumb, your lips pulling back into a devious smirk as Carlos groaned, dropping his face to the crook of your neck.

“Tú serás la muerte de mí,” You’ll be the death of me. 

“Good,” you whispered, inhaling a sharp breath when he attached his lips to your throat, nibbling and sucking on your already marked up skin. You could still feel the ghost of his fingertips from when he choked you earlier, something you both loved, but his mouth was also enough to leave you gasping for air. 

He knew you, he knew your body. He anticipated your reaction every time he touched you. And while you both thought you were taking a break to be able to catch the countdown, even having put on one of his shirts to keep his eyes from wandering, you were almost ready to drag him back to the bedroom because Carlos Sainz Jr. was also going to be the death of you.

But it was New Years Eve.

“Carlos,” you whimpered, pulling your fingers through his hair and giving him a sharp tug so he would lift his head. You hovered your lips over his, “We’ll miss the countdown.”

“I don’t care,” he chuckled, he nudged his nose against yours before connecting your lips. You both still tasted like champagne and god you couldn’t get enough of it. Carlos smiled against your lips and pulled back when he felt you pout. “What, hermosa?”

“I like the countdown,” you admitted, the volume you spoke at dropping about ten levels as you stared up at him through your lashes. “It’s like we get to start a new chapter in our lives at midnight.”

His smile didn’t fade because he loved the way you looked at the world with such a pure lens. He cupped your cheeks, thumbs brushing over your flushed skin. You expected him to kiss you again but he just pressed his lips to the top of your head.

“The only chapters I care about are the ones with you in it.”

You were drunk, but god did that line sober you up. 

You couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol flowing through your system or if it was because your heart was beating too fast for your own good, but your lips parted with the intent of saying those three little words.

Because you knew then, at that moment, you loved him.

But Carlos kissed you and swallowed the words that were dancing on the tip of your tongue. You thought that maybe that was for the better. It had only been four weeks. A month. It was too soon to tell him you loved him, you’d scare him off. You didn’t need to start a new year with a traumatised boyfriend.

So you kept it to yourself and told yourself that there would come a better time to tell him how you felt because even though you were certain you loved the man standing before you, now was not the time to say it.

But when was the time?

16 Feb 2023

You opened up the top drawer of the dresser that sat across from Carlos’ bed, but he grabbed hold of your wrist before you could pull your clothes out from it.

“Don’t,” he said, demanded basically. “Don’t pack up your things.”

Ripping your arm from his grasp, you ignored his plea and grabbed the pile of clothes that had accumulated here over the last couple months. It started as a joke, leaving your clothes here, at his place, telling him that you needed an excuse to come over. 

And then one t-shirt turned into half of your closet being crammed in with his. Carlos didn’t complain once.

But you couldn’t live in this fantasy world you had created for yourselves any longer. Carlos was about to travel to Bahrain for the start of the season and then he’d head to Italy in between races and then Jeddah and then Australia and you’d be here. In Madrid.

“I’m not staying in your house while you’re travelling around the world racing,” you scoffed, hoping he could see how preposterous the idea was. He opened his mouth, giving you that same look he gave you every time he was about to bring up the idea of you travelling with him. You pointed a finger in his face, “And I’m not going with you.”

You couldn’t. You had a life here, a job here. You had no idea how other girlfriends and partners of these drivers were able to get up and leave their homes for a half of a week to support them, but you couldn’t do that.

Carlo yanked the clothes out of your hands and shoved them back into the drawer. You scowled at him, not like you were very intimidating but you tried to be. 

“Carlos,” you huffed out his name. “Let me pack, let me move out. This has been fun but-”

“But nothing,” Carlos cut you off and reached for your arm once more, pulling you towards him. You had been avoiding his eyes for the last hour and he knew something was up, something that went further than just taking your clothes home. “Talk to me, hermosa.”

Carlos didn’t just know your body, he knew you. Your mannerisms, your anxious fidgeting, your facial expressions. He knew your thoughts travelling through your head before you did, the two of you were so in sync it was terrifying.

So he physically felt the heavy exhale you finally let out, forcing all of the weight you had been carrying on your shoulders into the space between you.

“Why does this feel like a break up?” He asked, trailing his hand up your arm. His touch was soft and comforting and you wished it was enough to make everything better. It should have been enough.

And your next few words didn’t just hurt you, they sliced right through Carlos.

“Because I think it is a break up.”

Carlos let go of you to rub his hands over his face before tugging them through his hair. He backed up, putting a little bit more space between your bodies because as much as he wanted to hold you and tell you that you were making a mistake, he heard the certainty in your voice. The ‘I think’ was only added for his benefit. Your mind was made up. He knew it.

And you had seemingly known it for a while, too. You knew this moment was coming.

He walked out of the room when you turned your face, no longer trying to stop you from packing up your bags. He shut the door after him, refraining from slamming it because that’s not who Carlos was. He didn’t do things out of haste and anger, he wasn’t a reactive person.

No, Carlos sat in his thoughts and his feelings and he let them simmer. He thought about the last few months and wondered if it meant anything at all to you, because he thought it did. 

And now you were throwing it all away and because what? Because you didn’t want a partner who travelled for a living? You weren’t even trying to put the effort in, you were giving up before it got difficult. And who’s to say it would get difficult? Carlos’ home was still in Madrid, he would always come back to you and now you weren’t giving him the option to.

He could hear you packing from down the hall, a few drawers shutting, his closet opening and closing. This was wrong. And if it felt wrong to him he knew it must have felt wrong for you too, even if you didn’t want to admit it. 

When you walked out a while later, a duffle bag over your shoulder, a small suitcase behind you, you still avoided his eyes as much as you could because you didn’t want him to know you had been crying. You didn’t want him to know that this break up was destroying you, but was ultimately the right thing to do.

Carlos stood up and approached you, still keeping his emotions in check even though it broke him to see you so hurt, so hurt over your own choices. 

This could be avoided, he thought. This didn’t need to end.

You dropped the bag to the ground and inhaled a deep breath. You glanced at Carlos, but only momentarily as he stood in front of you. It was a lot easier to look at the buttons of his shirt or the rings on his hand or literally anything else because meeting his gaze was too hard. 

But this is why you had to leave.

You hated goodbyes and if you had to say goodbye to him every week, if you were going to be in different countries for most of the year, if you weren’t even going to be with him, then what was the point of this relationship?

You wanted to grow with your partner and you couldn’t do that if they were a Formula 1 driver. You couldn’t grow with Carlos.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered with a shake of your head. He could hear the way you choked to get those words out, fighting back even more tears. 

Carlos, knowing he didn’t have much a chance to convince you into staying, still lifted his hand to your face, cupping your cheek and choosing to look past the way you winced as you leaned into his touch, as if already thinking about how this would be the last time you’d feel this sense of comfort.

“Don’t do this,” Carlos said, voice timid and lanced with desperation. “Please.”

“Carlos, please don’t make this harder than it has to be-”

“I love you.”

You froze. 

Even as Carlos rested his other palm against the side of your face and forced your attention on him, dipping his head as he repeated those words, you remained frozen. 

“I love you,” he spoke with so much confidence it scared you. “I love you and I don’t want this to be over. It can’t be over.”

It wasn’t that you couldn’t say those words back because you didn't reciprocate them, you couldn’t say it back because it would only make things harder. Up until now, neither of you had said you loved the other. And up until now, you were perfectly happy pushing what you felt for him down because the timing never felt right and now you knew why.

Deep down you always knew that you’d find yourself needing to walk away. 

He’d have an easier time letting you go if you told him you didn’t love him and while it would have been a lie, it was what he needed to hear. 

You stepped back and grabbed the duffle bag off the floor, his arms fell back to his sides.

“I’m sorry, Carlos, I don’t-” you turned to the door, letting your hair fall in front of your face, “I don’t love you.”

“I don’t believe that.”

He wasn’t arrogant, but he was persistent. 

“Well it’s true,” you pulled the strap of the bag over your shoulder and reached for the handle of the door. If you just avoided his big brown eyes and the stare that had you hooked before either of you ever said a word, you could leave. You pulled open the door, only for him to press his palm against it and slam it shut again.

You felt his chest against your back as he stepped forward. Each breath he took was in sync with yours, because you two were always in sync, even at the worst of times.

“I don’t love you,” you repeated, raising your voice.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that, then.”

You couldn’t. 

You couldn’t because the moment you turned around you would fall back into his arms. You’d let yourself get swept away by his promises and his affection and then he’d leave for a race and then another and another. You loved this bubble you created during the office season and you fell so hard so fast for Carlos, but it wasn’t meant to last.

“I’m leaving,” was all you could get, gripping the handle again and yanking the door open with such force that Carlos had no choice but to take a step back. He tried to reach for you, his fingers ghosted over yours, but there was nothing he could do to stop you.

You were gone.

June 4 2023

You kept up with the races throughout the beginning of the season. You still followed his account and all of the motorsport ones he was associated with. You didn’t dare like or comment on any of them, but you weren’t ready to let him go.

Telling Carlos you didn’t love him was the hardest thing you’d ever done.

And you didn’t let yourself look at him as you said it either, you didn’t take on any of the pain that he felt. You said the words, you broke his heart and then you left. 

Carlos didn’t try to reach out once, not like you expected him to. Even when he was home between races, which wasn’t often, you’d only hear about it from social media. 

But this was what you wanted, right? You wanted this life, you wanted to stay home. You didn’t want to keep chasing after a Formula 1 driver and be forced to follow him from country to country if you wanted to spend time with him. That wasn't healthy nor was it something you wanted to put yourself through.

Getting over him, however, was impossible. 

And you tried, really. You went out with your friends, you distracted yourself, you picked up hobby after hobby but good god your thoughts always travelled back to him. 

You fought with yourself. You kept asking yourself if you made a mistake by ending things. You kept wondering why you didn’t at least try. But then you’d see a photo of him getting into yet another plane and you knew you made the right choice. 

Your lifestyles were extremely different. Your personalities were compatible, yes, but the way you went about your day to day lives would never line up. At least not while he was racing.

You wouldn’t lie to yourself, though. You liked watching him race.

When you watched from home, your eyes were always on the number 55 Ferrari. You rooted for him, you winced at every near miss, you celebrated his finishes and without fail, you always looked at your phone and thought about congratulating him via text or even a call, only to instantly decide against it.

You weren’t even that big of a Formula 1 fan before you met him, but now this seemed to be as close to him as you’d ever get again.

It didn’t help that he looked good. 

Carlos pulled off those red racing overalls. And when they hung low around his hips and the fireproofs clung to his skin, god you wanted to scream at yourself for letting him go. You could have been there, at the races, if you just put a little more effort in. You could have been the one to rip the fireproofs off his body after he got out of the car, because let's face it, after some of the runs he’s had this season, you knew he was probably needing an outlet to release some of that pent up energy and frustration. 

You missed running your fingers through his hair. You missed the feeling of his lips tracing every inch of your skin. You missed waking up next to him and seeing your legs tangled together with the sheets. You missed that he was always looking for a reason to touch you, whether it be your wrist or your pinky finger or your back, his hand was always on you.

You missed Carlos.

You loved Carlos.

Which was why your judgement was a little clouded when your friend invited you to Barcelona the weekend of the grand prix, not to watch the race because god knew neither of you could afford tickets, but to visit the clubs she hoped the drivers would be at. 

She knew people who knew people and you didn’t ask questions, you just gripped her hand tightly as she led you towards the VIP section of the third club that night. The first one was a bust. The second one you spotted a few people associated with Formula 1, but the third nightclub was the jackpot.

It didn’t take long to spot Charles, celebrating getting a podium after a difficult qualifying session on Saturday. You never actually met Charles but you had heard lots about him, and from the look he gave you across the lounge, you had a feeling he had heard a lot about you too.

With a drink in his hand, he made his way towards you, nodding to himself when he realised that, yes, the girl in front of him was in fact his teammate's ex. 

“Does Carlos know you’re here?” Charles asked, dipping his face towards your ear to be heard over the obnoxious music. You shook your head, eyes darting all around him but the Spanish driver was nowhere in sight.

“Is he-” god why were you even asking? You didn’t have a right to. You broke up with him. “Is he here?”

Charles nodded again, standing up straight to look around the crowded room full of bodies dancing and mingling. A chuckle passed his lips as his eyes widened momentarily, “Looks like he’s a little busy though.”

You turned on your heels. It took a second for you to understand what Charles was talking about.

But then you saw it.

A girl, who very much resembled you, height wise and hair wise, had her arms wrapped around Carlos’ neck as she held their bodies together, letting the music flow through them as they danced together. 

You hated the way he was staring at her, like he was thinking about all of the ways he was going to devour her. 

And unlike Carlos, you did not let your feelings sit. You reacted to everything. Out of anger, spite, jealousy, you never took a second to think about your actions or the potential consequences before doing anything. 

So before you even processed how horrible of an idea this was, you walked across the club, the music fading into the background as you only heard a high pitched ringing in your ears. Carlos paid no attention to you, he had no idea you were even there until you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and pulled his hand off the waist of your lookalike. 

She scoffed at you and shot a quick glance towards Carlos, “Cuál es su problema?” What’s your problem?

“You,” You shot back, not giving her any chance of a rebuttal before you pulled Carlos away from her and the dance floor. He called your name, trying to get your attention as you navigated your way to the bathrooms. He was much stronger than you, so he could have pulled your hand off of him if he really wanted to, but he let you drag him into the single user washroom without much of a fight.

It wasn’t until you locked the door behind him and stood only inches apart did it sink in what you just did.

Your heart was racing as you stared up at Carlos. You took in his stern features, the way his eyebrows pinched together as he waited for an explanation, the way he crossed his arms over his chest. 

This was very reminiscent of the night you met, only when you met in the club you pulled him into the backseat of a car and he couldn’t take his hands off of you. Now, he was purposely keeping the distance and he seemingly wanted nothing to do with you.

He must have known you didn’t have any words because he cleared his throat and eyed you once over, “What the fuck was that?”

What the hell could you say? That was me pulling you off some stupid look alike because even though I broke up with you, I don’t want to see you with anyone else?

That would be the truth. The reasonable thing to respond with because after pulling him away from his date, you probably at least owed him some honesty.

But again, you were someone who reacted. 

“What?” You scoffed, arm flailing to the side. “You think you can come back to Spain for the first time in months and not say a single fucking thing to me? Weren’t you the one who said your home was in Madrid? People talk, Carlos, you haven’t been home since the day-”

“Since the day you left,” he interrupted, knowing damn well you were trying to say he hadn’t been back home since he left for the season even though you both knew there was a deeper reasoning as to why. 

Carlos shook his head. His usually loving stare was cold and intimidating, he wasn’t going to let you put the blame on him for anything that had occurred.

“I haven’t been back to Madrid since that day you walked out on me,” Carlos repeated himself, putting heavy emphasis on the reminder that you were the one that left him. “I hope you understand, but I haven’t really been in any sort of rush to go back.”

Why would he want to go back home knowing you wouldn’t be there when he returned? Why would he go back to the one place he knew you’d be, but would still inevitably be just out of his reach? So close yet so fucking far. 

He wasn’t going to put himself through that, through knowing you’d be in the same city but not being able to touch you. It was easier to find other places to stay between races.

And you did understand that. It may not have sunk in right away, but it made sense now. You couldn’t see it through the tv screen, you couldn’t get a read on him when you were watching him race from miles and miles away. But you saw it now.

Carlos hadn’t moved on either.

He took a breath as he leaned back against the door. You didn’t like the defensive stance he was relying on. With his arms over his chest all you wanted was to step forward and take his hands in yours. You hated the space between your bodies.

But you were broken up. You both had to accept that, as hard as it was, and that was your doing. 

Except you still didn’t want to see him with someone else.

“So who was she?” You asked, drifting the topic of conversation back to the girl from the dance floor.

“You don’t really have a right to ask.”

“It’s not a crime to be curious.”

Carlos clenched his jaw as he averted his gaze for a second. He rubbed his palm over his chin and shrugged, giving in to your question because he always did struggle to say no to you, “I don’t know, honestly. I met her ten minutes ago at the bar.”

“Sounds familiar,” you muttered under your breath, thinking back to when you first met.

“We met on the dance floor,” Carlos pointed out.

“I was on the dance floor. You were at the bar.”

“We were both on the dance floor,” he repeated, sounding more sure of himself the second time. 

His eyes dropped, taking in your outfit of choice for the first time since you’ve been in the enclosed space and when the corner of his lips curved upwards, just for a second, you felt your heart skip a beat just like it did the first night you met.

“You were wearing that same skirt too,” he said and you automatically looked down at the black leather skirt you currently had on. 

“Was not,” you scoffed, but to be fair, you had absolutely no idea what you had on that night.

Carlos chuckled, ignoring your childish rebuttal. “That skirt and a white top and I know it was white because I remember watching you spill your drink all over the front of it and you said-”

“I need an excuse to take it off anyway,” you finished for him, flashes of that night appeared in your mind. For so long, you only remembered how Carlos made you feel when you first met that none of the other details mattered.

But he remembered everything.

“You ordered gin and tonics all night,” Carlos continued, studying your face as your features softened with each additional memory. “Your friends tried to pull you away from me when we were on the dance floor and you didn’t let them. When I introduced myself, you had no idea who I was and when we finally stepped outside to leave the club, you looked at me with those big eyes of yours and you-” 

He stopped midway and inhaled a faint breath, you both did actually. His was due to reliving the night you first met and yours was due to the fact that Carlos stepped forward finally, raising his fingers to your chin to tilt your face upwards. 

You leaned into his touch, stepping forward yourself to trace your hand over the shirt he wore as he finished his final thought.

“You looked up at me and you told me I looked like someone you could fall in love with.”

Alarms went off. You wanted to run again. You didn’t want to have this conversation again. Once was enough. 

“I don’t- I don’t remember that,” you stammered out. 

“Because you were drinking gin and tonics all night,” Carlos said again, this time with a hint of a smile. “I also don’t even think you meant to say it, you changed the topic immediately afterwards.”

“You could just be making this shit up,” you pointed out, not wanting to accept the fact that you knew Carlos would be someone you would love since that first night. 

“I could be,” he nodded in agreement, fingers still holding onto your jaw. He stared at you the way he used to. With such adoration and desire. What used to be lust melted into something so much stronger and it hadn’t faded even if months passed. “But unlike you, I don’t lie.”

Your eyebrows pinched together, “When have I ever lied to you?” 

“The day you left,” there was another hit to the chest as you anticipated the rest of his sentence. “When you told me you didn’t love me.”

“That wasn’t a lie,” your words tasted like acid on your tongue. 

His hand fell from your face and he laughed. The sort of laugh that had your stomach turning in knots because there was nothing humorous about this situation you had now found yourselves in for the second time in four months.

“I know you,” Carlos said. “And I know there’s no possible way that I am the only one that feels so strongly it hurts. I know you love me because I feel it. I always have. In the way you touch me, in the way you run your hands through my hair, in the way you used to wake me up in the morning by kissing me until I finally opened my eyes. I know you love me because I see it in everything you do. In the way you look at me, the way your eyes always found mine if we were in a crowded room and I could see the breath of relief you’d take because as long as we saw each other, the world was calm. I saw it when you started leaving your clothes at my place, when you started going grocery shopping for us instead of just you and I saw how it broke you to walk out on me that day. It wouldn’t have hurt if you didn’t love me.”

With your hand still gripping onto his shirt, your lower lip trembled as you tried to find something to say in response. Every single word that came out of his mouth was true. He knew you better than you knew yourself and he probably knew long before you did that you loved him.

You dropped your gaze, focusing on the wrinkles on his shirt and the white button you played with under your thumb, “You know that phrase, if you love something, set it free?”

“And if it comes back, it's yours,” Carlos added on, stepping closer as he raised his hand to the side of your face, his fingers twisting through your hair. “I’m here, hermosa. I’m yours, I’ve always been yours.”

Now it was your turn to laugh. You forced yourself to, thinking that the humorous breath of air protruding from your lips might make the rest of this conversation easier. 

It didn’t.

“Carlos I can’t keep setting you free every time there’s a race,” you said, your voice timid. “I can’t. If I’m going to love you I’m going to do it with every bone in my body, with every fibre of my being and I can’t do that if you’re gone for eight months of the year. I need you in my life, with me, by my side, not on a tv screen, not all around the world.”

What you were asking for was selfish, you knew this. You knew that, essentially, you were putting Carlos in a position where he had to choose. He had to choose between you and racing and that wasn’t a fair spot for him to be in. You knew this.

Which is why you chose for him. 

Four months ago you chose for him, and you were doing it again now.

You briefly glanced up to meet his eyes, trying to move past the way you were melting at the feeling of his hands in your hair. 

“I shouldn’t have come to Barcelona, I’m sorry,” you breathed out, hands falling to your side. Without so much as a second look, you stepped past the driver and reached for the door handle. 

Carlos didn’t let you walk out on him this time.

He grabbed your wrist and spun you back around so fast that you didn’t have a second to breathe before his lips were on yours. Furiously and passionately like he was making up for all of these months without you. His tongue dove into your mouth as you slid your hand around the back of his neck, holding his face to yours because even though you knew this was a terrible idea, that you were broken up, there was no better feeling in the world than kissing Carlos Sainz Jr.

Neither of you were sure who started undressing first. It didn’t matter. Buttons went flying, your skirt got hiked up around your waist and when Carlos hoisted you up to place you on top of the sink, you had a momentary lapse of judgement and asked yourself why you broke up with him in the first place.

“I miss you,” Carlos muttered against your lips as you inhaled a sharp breath when he pushed your panties aside, the pads of his fingers traced over your folds. “I missed this.” 

“Carlos-”

“Missed how wet you got for me,” Carlos ignored whatever plea was about to fall from your lips as he pressed his mouth to the crook of your neck. 

You were putty in his hands, quite literally. There was nothing but quiet whimpers and strangled moans from you as he slid two fingers past your folds, both of you forgetting that your conversation ended with you trying to walk out on him.

His thumb traced over your clit, applying the slightest bit of pressure, just enough to have you arching your back as you sat perched on the edge of the counter. You felt him smirk against your skin right when he picked up the pace of his digits, curling them against your walls, so deep inside you.

You dragged your fingers through his hair, encouraging him to keep his lips on that spot just below your ear as your head fell backward. Carlos kept you upright, he supported you, he knew how helpless you were during times like these and he lived for it. 

Four months ago you would have never thought that walking out on Carlos Sainz Jr. would lead you to being finger fucked by him in the bathroom of a Barcelona club. 

He lifted his head, replacing his lips on your throat with his free hand and forcing you to look at him. You recognised the lustful stare, only growing darker as he alternated between lightly tracing your most sensitive nub and pinching it between his forefinger and thumb until your legs quivered beneath you.

Carlos attached his mouth to yours, biting down and tugging on your lower lip, the sharp pain only added to the pleasure coursing through your body. He thrusted his fingers into you with such force it had you yanking on his dark hair so hard Carlos hissed through his teeth. 

“Cum for me,” Carlos’ groan was masked with a demand. One you had no possibility of ignoring as your body reacted to him and his words. With his fingers so deep inside you, Carlos worked you through your release, slowing but not stopping as you dropped your head to his shoulder, holding him as close to you as you possibly could.

When he finally pulled his fingers out of you, you weren’t surprised when he brought them up to his lips. There was a perfectly fine sink right in front of him but Carlos would never waste an opportunity to taste you. 

He then cupped your chin, his gaze softened but you could still make out the mischievous glint. This night wasn’t over.

“Let’s get out of here.”

That’s all it took. Those five little words. The one request and you had forgotten every logical decision that had led you up to this moment. He helped you off the counter, kissing you once more before you had to leave the privacy of the bathroom and before long you found yourself walking the same route as the first night you met.

Past the dance floor, sending your friend an assuring smile, silently telling her everything was fine. Carlos led the way at first, you kept a safe distance behind him and when you walked outside there was already a car waiting out front. You climbed into the backseat alongside him, ignoring the flashes from paparazzi and the call from them asking if Carlos was back together with his ex.

You couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. From the ride to the elevator to the hallway until finally he dragged you into his hotel room, or maybe you dragged him once the door opened, you were both desperate for the other at this point.

It was hard to think rationally. In the back of your head you knew you’d have to leave in the morning before you found yourself clinging to him the way you used to, but you just wanted to enjoy the time you had now. You wanted to hold onto every beautiful sound that came from the back of his throat, each kiss he pressed to your skin, the sound of your name escaping his lips because no one would ever say your name that way he did. 

You loved him.

You loved the way he knew your body better than you did. How he had you desperate for a release in a matter of minutes, and only giving in when you begged for it. You loved the way he stretched you out, needing a second to inhale a quick breath as he slid his cock into you with little warning, deciding you were wet enough already after making you cum once in the bathroom and again on the edge of his bed with just his tongue.

You were used to his size, you had spent enough time in bed with him to know what to expect tonight but after four months your mouth still fell open and he swallowed all of your moans by pressing his lips to yours and taking all of your air out of your lungs.

Carlos wasn’t patient. Why would he be? After months without you he didn’t feel the need to wait. He found a steady pace but within minutes he had picked up his speed and hiked one of your legs up around his waist. 

That position turned into another which turned into a third and at one point during the night Carlos had you sit on top of him, staring at your own reflection in the mirror as you bounced on his cock, listening to his encouraging words and his praise while his fingers made for a beautiful necklace on your throat.

He cherished you, treating you like royalty on his sheets as you both carried the same thought, both of you knowing that you wouldn’t stay past the morning. As much as you wanted to forget that you broke up with him and as much as he wanted to pretend that you were still his, there was no denying your relationship was over. 

You loved each other, but that wasn’t enough to make up for the distance and the lost time during races and the anxiety of not being able to come home to each other at the end of the day. You loved each other, truly, but it was never enough.

Which was why when morning came, you climbed out of bed, careful not to disturb him after getting very minimal hours of sleep. You slid on the clothes you had discarded all over his room and decided that leaving without a second look would be easiest.

You had just cracked the door open when Carlos stirred in the blankets behind you. You had no choice but to turn around, to look at what you were walking away from for the second time.

He sat up in bed, the sheets draped over his lower half and his hair unruly and sexy and almost enough to make you crawl right back in next to him. 

He saw that you had redressed yourself, made yourself as presentable as you could wearing the clothes from last night. He didn’t have to ask where you were going, he just nodded to himself and let out a breath of acceptance.

You were never going to stay.

“I’m sorry,” you said, but those two little words were not the words he was hoping to hear during his short time with you. 

“No you’re not,” Carlos shook his head. He looked away from you for a second, his tongue poking out to moisten his lips. He was asking himself if last night was a mistake. It probably was.

“I don’t want to have this conversation again.”

“You’re leaving because it’s easier to walk away than to fight for what you really want.”

“I’m leaving because it’s what’s best for both of us, Carlos.” You sighed, leaning against the frame of the bedroom door. “I can’t live the life you want me to live and I’m not going to ask you to give anything up for me. We’re at a crossroad here.”

Carlos dragged his line of sight back towards you, “Even though I love you? That doesn’t make any difference?”

It makes things harder. 

You shook your head, repeating that you were sorry one more time and letting the last image of Carlos be of him dropping his head back down to the pillow before you turned around and walked out of his life once again.

August 17 2023

You practically ran to the receptionist, slamming your hands against the desk, “Carlos Sainz Jr., is he- is he here? What room is he in? Is he okay? God please tell me he’s okay-”

“Ma’am, I need you to take a breath,” the nurse was calm, she had been through this hundreds of times. Dealing with the frantic loved ones of a patient. She stood up, hand outstretched to rest over yours as she pushed the box of tissues closer to you. You grabbed one and dabbed the corner of your eyes, having been imagining the worst the entire drive over and unable to stop crying.

You didn’t even have time to question why you were still his emergency contact. You had no idea how your name and number came up in the conversation and it pained you to think that when the paramedics brought him to the hospital, the only phone number he could think to mutter was yours.

“Is he okay?” You repeated after a deep inhale. “I need to know he’s okay. The lady on the phone earlier wouldn’t tell me anything, she just said there was an accident.”

“Carlos Sainz?” The nurse asked, looking at her screen as she sat back on down. She typed on the keyboard, muttering a few things to herself until his file popped up. “He’s undergoing surgery right now, should be done soon though.”

“Surgery for what?” You asked, desperate to get information. “Is he going to be okay? He’s a racecar driver, can he still drive? Is it life threatening-”

The nurse seemed to crack a smile, “I’m familiar with his occupation, Miss. Unfortunately I am not able to give you any more information on his condition.”

You couldn’t tell if the whole confidentiality act was because of his fame or because she really had no idea how he was doing. Regardless, the not knowing stressed you out beyond relief and you tried for a few more minutes, pestering for answers, until finally she told you that the only option for you was to sit and wait.

So you did. Foot tapping against the tiled floor. You thought about calling his parents or his sister but last you saw from social media, his sister was somewhere in Greece and you had absolutely no way of contacting his parents as you weren’t with Carlos long enough to get their contact information. 

It was just you in the hospital waiting room, nervously watching the minute hand on the clock go around way too damn slow. Every time a doctor or another nurse entered the room, your heart dropped in anticipation, but none of them were there to keep you informed.

Twenty minutes went by with no news, and in hindsight, that really wasn’t that long of a waiting period. But it felt like an eternity, not knowing. Left drawing your own conclusions, your own terrible scenarios. 

When a doctor did finally emerge from the swinging doors, he stared down at his clipboard before approaching the nurse behind the reception desk. You watched them interact, of course you did, you needed to know if he was Carlos’ doctor.

When he walked over to you, a tight smile on his lips, you stood up instantly.

“You must be here for Carlos,” he said, holding out his hand for you to shake with not nearly enough strength you wished you had. “I’m Dr. Alejo.”

“Hi,” You tried to glance at the clipboard tucked under his arm but you wouldn’t understand anything anyway. “Is he-”

Dr. Alejo nodded and you felt as though you could breathe when his smile grew even just the slightest bit. 

“He’s fine,” He assured you. “A few broken ribs that will heal on their own, a fracture of his left wrist that required surgery and some severe bruising along his abdomen, but no internal bleeding to be concerned about. He’s okay.” Dr. Alejo scratched his jaw, “Might not be able to finish the season, but I think he’s just happy to be able to walk away from this accident.”

He nodded his head towards the doors that separated the patients from the waiting room, leading you through them and down the hall as he flipped through the papers on the clipboard. 

“It was a car accident?” You asked. “How? What even happened?” It was hard to believe that a professional racing driver would get into something so mundane as a car accident. During the break of the Formula 1 season.

“I believe the other driver was distracted,” Dr. Alejo answered. “I don’t have much more information than that as he wasn’t my patient, but he’s also okay. I think still in surgery, but both drivers are extremely fortunate in this scenario.”

He stopped in front of a room where the door was slightly ajar. Carlos’ name was written on the board outside of it and you asked for permission before going inside. The doctor nodded and allowed you in by yourself, instructing you to be gentle as he had just come from surgery.

You walked in, not prepared for the sight of Carlos on the bed with IV tubes sticking out of his wrist. His entire rib cage and abdomen was bandaged up and you could see hints of bruising on his legs and arms, aside from where the cast on his left wrist was covering them. There were minor marks on his face as well, cuts from the broken windshield, more bruising, everything that made you ache for him.

His eyes were closed so he didn’t see you slowly make your way to his bedside, sitting on the side that seemed to have less injury. You scanned over him, taking in the damages to his body and you didn’t think twice before raising your hand to brush a few strands of hair off his forehead. 

You hadn’t seen him in a few months, not since you left his hotel room. 

Part of you expected that you’d run into each again, you’d always been drawn to Carlos, but you never would have imagined this. 

You didn’t even know he was home.

Hesitantly, you took his hand in yours, thumb tracing over the few inches of skin that weren’t littered with dark bruises. You felt his fingers twitch in your grasp and you glanced up in time to see his eyelids flutter open.

“Hi,” you whispered, expecting to have to explain yourself. Carlos most definitely did not expect to get into any sort of accident today, let alone see his ex-girlfriend who walked out on him twice. Obviously there was some explaining to do.

But he only turned his palm upwards to interlock your fingers together, careful of the IV tubing. He tried to shift on the bed, only to grimace in pain and you inhaled a breath, worried for him.

“Just-” you swallowed, fighting the urge to put your hand to his chest like you would normally do if you just wanted him to sit. “Just take it easy, okay?”

Carlos nodded, glancing down at your hands and then at the cast on his wrist and then sighing with deep despair as he took in the bandages wrapped around his body. 

“Not like I had a shot at the championship anyway,” he joked, already thinking about the last half of the season. 

You didn’t want to laugh. Nothing about him sitting in a hospital bed was funny, but it was no surprise he was thinking about Formula 1. He was a driver, racing was in his blood. 

So you just cracked a hint of a smile and tried to change the topic to something else, something more pressing.

“I didn’t know you were back in Madrid.”

Carlos paused, “I just got in today.”

Your brows pinched together, “What do you mean? Didn’t your break start two weeks ago?”

“I was in Italy, for a bit,” he told you, his thumb brushing over yours. “But I didn’t want to be there. All I wanted was to come home. All I wanted was to see you.”

Your heart sank deep into your chest, “Don’t tell me you got into a car accident when you were on the way to my place.”

“Then I won’t tell you.”

“Carlos,” You wanted to scold him, really. You had broken up, he didn’t need to come see you. If he had just stayed in Italy, if he hadn’t decided he needed to see you, he’d be fine and not laying with limited motion in a hospital bed. You were the reason he ended up here.

He always said you’d be the death of him.

“I love you,” Carlos said, sounding more sure of his own words than he ever had before. “I love you, and I don’t care if you walk out on me every time I say it because I’m just going to follow you. I made a mistake the first time, letting you leave. I made it again in Barcelona and I’m not doing that anymore, I’m not going anywhere, hermosa and if I do, I’ll always come home to you.” 

You had thought you were all cried out, having tears stream down your face the entire drive to the hospital as you thought about your relationship with Carlos. The good, the bad, everything in between. You cried thinking you’d never get a chance to create another memory with him. You were distraught, wanting to scream into the abyss because even if you weren’t with Carlos, you couldn’t imagine a life without him.

You loved him.

You always had. You always will.

And you weren’t going to go another second with him thinking his feelings weren’t reciprocated. 

A single tear fell down your cheek as you locked eyes with him, the only person in your life you would ever give your heart to and know, without doubt, that he would give his back in return.

“I love you,” you finally told him, the biggest weight lifted off your chest, one that had been dragging you down for months. “I love you, Carlos, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I love you when I knew I did. I'm sorry it took this for me to tell you. I'm so sorry, I love you, I love you-”

You moved closer to him, dropping your head to rest against his after you kissed his temple, quietly repeating that you loved him over and over again. You placed your hand against his cheek, holding Carlos against you and he covered your hand with his, not wanting to let go.

He’d let you go one two many times and he wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

And you wouldn’t give him a reason to. 

[captain-joongz]

Thinking about free use husband!Joshua…

Coming home to him and wrapping your arms around him from behind while he is cooking .. kissing his neck and shoulders and teasing him until he gets hard

Making him keep cooking while you start to touch him cruelly, praising and degrading him in the same breath

And he loves it, letting you do whatever you want to him, making him submit, even though he would do it willingly, this way makes his body shake, until he has to turn off everything and stop before he collapses on the floor…

Maybe this doesn’t make any sense, maybe it does, I cant really tell im too tired 😭

- ✨

(Btw you’re gonna get that job!!)

so sorry for the delay darling, i ended up taking a little break for dinner and a shower, but now i'm back and more ready than ever to tackle this delicious scenario~

and thank you for the encouragement! i honestly don't know how to feel about the interview today, but hopefully it didn't go completely awfully haha! i have another one tomorrow afternoon, so there's more awaiting ! but that one is for an english teacher, which i think should be perfect for me <3

here's your delicious little story ✨anon <3 and as always, hard hours continue and will continue for another week !!

warnings: cursing, marking, subby Shua, handjob, cumming in pants

ooooh now, Joshua is a little bit of a wild card, isn't he? i feel that he has a strong and easy-going enough personality that people would assume he'd like to naturally lead, but also there's this air of gentleness and prettiness about him that just screams "i'll let someone take care of me", not to mention that he's a sassy little bastard

so maybe he would sometimes brat out a little, have some cheeky remarks, but deep down he just loved submitting to you, especially when you came home all fired up from a long hard day at work. oh he'd know that you'd need to get your hands on him and unwind with the fierce aura of exhaustion and frustration enveloping you

he'd at least hoped he'd be able to finish the dinner he was preparing for the two of you, but then you were in the kitchen, wrapping your hands around him in a back-hug, smushing your face into his shoulder

"hard day?"

"oh god, you don't even know. janet from accounting is being a cunt again, it's crazy."

for a few moments the chatter between you flowed without interruption, you hanging off of him and loudly complaining about a coworker that's been making your life ten thousand times harder, and he'd started to relax and focused back onto cooking

but that's what you were waiting for

the second you could feel him untense in your hold, your hands started to wander. at first only slowly caressing his sides or across his tummy, touches that could easily be read as comfort, but then your hand strayed a little too up and pressed up on his nipple just as you pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his neck, both feeling and hearing his breath hitch under you

"baby..." he'd say breathlessly, trying to reprimand you but his body would already be heating up with the promises it came to understand from your hands

you wouldn't stop, for anything, busying yourself by leaving hot laving kisses to his neck and behind his ear, one hand carefully massaging his scalp and tugging at his hair while the other one slyly made its way under his t-shirt to tease his nipple without the barrier of clothing

you'd love the feeling of him tensing under you, his body going all high-strung when you'd press down on the stiff little peak and push it around with your lazy fingers, breaths leaving him in huffs and sighs every time you'd tug his hair a little harder

he'd still try to pretend to be fully focused on cooking, but it would all grow hazy in front of his eyes, his lids threatening to fall shut with every electrifying rush of lust and pleasure from your ministrations, and soon he'd start messing up - clumsy hands dropping the spoon, crushing the ingredients in his palms on every hard bite you distributed to his neck, and you'd chuckle at his plight

"what is it, baby? aren't you a little clumsy tonight?"

he'd huff at your words but say nothing, stubbornly trying to ignore you and your games - and that would only stoke your fire and provoke you into upping the ante

now sticking your both your hands under his clothes, one migrating to give attention to the other nipple while the second naughty hand travelled south until you were cupping his half-hard cock and punching a moan out of him

"Shua, baby, you're not paying attention to the food at all, i'm so disappointed. i was looking forward to your cooking all day, but you can't focus long enough to not burn it..."

"don't be so mean" he'd whine and you'd tsk at him

"is that any way to talk to me?" gripping him harder, you'd love the way he'd groan under you, hands abandoning the utensils to grip at the counter, but you'd quickly grab them and push them back to the pot

"go on, baby, cook for me if you want my praises"

and Joshua would give it a valiant try, he really would, stirring the food in little aborted motions while you rolled his nipples between your fingers and kissed at the bitten and marked skin of his neck, hand massaging and squeezing the growing bulge in his pants, and the kitchen would be full of the sounds of hissing cooking food and his little sighs and breathless moans

but he'd know it's game over town the moment your hand slipped into his pants and gripped his cock. the skin on skin contact was almost enough to send him crashing to the ground, knees buckling and knocking into each other with the surge of pleasure. and yeah, he definitely didn't even see what he was doing anymore, head tipped back and whines spilling out with every slow measured stroke on his cock

you'd see his hands shaking on the utensils, you'd see how he'd start losing focus, not moving them anymore, instead jerking his hips in tiny little circles to fuck into your hand - and of course you'd still him and tell him he needed to do better - and of course he'd moan at that, his cock jumping in excitement

"i c-can't, fuck, wanna cum please-" you'd recognise the tell tale signs he was close, the way he'd squeeze his eyes shut while his mouth fell open, the way his whines got more and more high-pitched and his hips shook as he supressed the need to pump them into the tightness of your fist

"go on, baby, you've been such a good boy for me"

and that would be all it took for him to frantically start turning the stove off, barely managing to catch onto the counter before the combined stimulation of you biting his ear and squeezing the tip of his throbbing cock sent him over the edge and he came in his pants, shaking in your arms with soft cries

Shua would turn to jelly in your embrace, barely even holding up on his own two feet while the half-cooked food cooled down on the stove, but it would be hard to pay attention to anything else except for his body thrumming with the release and the gentle kisses and praises you whispered into his lips for listening to you so well

divider by @cafekitsune

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

look Hal, as much as I fucking DESPISE soap’s death.. i am in need of a fic where price delivers his wife his tags. pls, i need to be hurt again by you 🥲🥲🥲 (ik reqs are closed honestly im just hoping to put an idea in your head fjfhsjfh sorry)

A short drabble to make your pain worse, dear anon:

You stare blankly at the finely dressed man on the doorstep, a black leather box in his hands.

It isn’t a stare that can be defined on any level of emotion—nothing shown on a face in a time such as this can be. Some instances transcend any known sense and logic; all perceived ability to understand leaks out of a brain like water in a blown dam. 

There wasn’t an explanation for this. 

John looked on, and he started to speak as if you’d never known each other. As if your Johnny hadn't had him and the rest over for your engagement party—as if he hadn’t watched you pour him tea and smile softly in thanks as Johnny’s arm snaked around your shoulders. 

“On behalf of the 23rd Regiment of the Special Air Service,” you don’t even blink. “I, Captain John Price of the 22nd, offer my—”

“Stop.” Your voice is shaky, and your hands are clammy on the door knob. The man can’t look at you. He clears his throat, blue eyes blinking at you; so similar to Johnny’s and yet never the same at all. 

“...My deepest condolences—”

“John!” Your voice moves in a sharp yell, taking a single step forward. “Stop it!”

A heavy silence falls like a hammer. 

Your lips open and close, stuttering. Where were the words? What could you say? The tightness of your chest crashes down on you; a cinder block of ruthless realization. 

Your husband was never coming home. 

Hand snapping up to your mouth, you stifle a loud sob that rips through your lungs, shoulders hunching in. 

“Where is he?” You gasp, tears flying down your face. “John, dammit, where is he?!”

For once in your life, of all the times you’d spoken to him, the Captain had no answer. Blue eyes stay stuck on you, box outstretched on hands that you see quiver for a moment—a clench of his bearded jaw and a movement of his head to the side. 

Like some cruel joke, you laugh through the bouts of sobs, unbelieving.

“John,” you plead, barely able to see or get the words out. “Please tell me where he is. He has to come back home to me. John,” you move forward, grasping his shoulder, digging your nails in as if to wrench soil out of a burial plot. It’s frantic how you speak—all gasps and desperate whines to a God who isn’t listening to you. “I need him. H-he promised me he would come back. I-I…” You struggle to breathe.

“Love,” John grits out, forcing his tongue to move. His eyes are pained, but never, never as much as yours are. It’s said on a low and defeated breath. “I couldn’t save him.”

You collapse as his arm, which snaps to circle you and tries to keep you up as you wail in agony. Tears stain John’s uniform and the neighbors come outside at the ruckus of a woman who just had her heart ripped out with a rusted knife. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs into your hair, throat tight. “It’s all my fault, I’m sorry.”

But you can’t answer, because the only thing you have left of Johnny are pieces of blood-splattered metal and memories. 

And one day, you’d forget the sound of his voice—the way he touched you; how it felt to be kissed and held and loved so fiercely as if on fire. A blaze of devotion, yourself covered in gasoline; eager to be burned by a man you’d skin yourself for only three more minutes with, if that was all that could be spared. 

You plead for it in John’s arms—scream for it. Three more minutes. Three more seconds. 

If not that, then just three last kisses.

Johnny was dead, and everyone, especially the man trying to keep you from hitting the ground; taking the hits you lay on his arm numbly, knew that you had died with him.

The tags of a man long past glint in the setting sun.

[thatgirlri]

Hiiii can you do a request where reader has a crush on Geto and gets all nervous around😭🍓

Hii! Of course I can pookie! Thank you sm for my first request 💕🥺

Look me in the eyes

suguru geto X Shy!Reader headcannons

No TW! Femreader not proofread, so sorry for any mistakes :3

💕Being a sorcerer was always about confidence and standing your ground, there was no room for shyness at all, actually being a sorcerer was what bought you out of that shy like comfort zone, yet that’s what you thought until you had met a certain someone.

💕Now mind you, when you didn’t have to mingle you didn’t, you kept to yourself UNLESS you had missions or training with someone, but nope you being a loner only attracted way more attention from A outgoing, somewhat annoying white haired man.

💕“Y/n!! What are ya doing all alone! Come hang out with us!” you could hear his voice literally from miles away, and before you could even look up and say no he was already approaching you with another person, a dark hair man with a calm expression resting on his face.

“Gojo I’m busy..” You tried to mumble out only for him to immediately interrupt

“Too busy for us? Come onnn, you haven’t even met my best friend!!”

💕With a soft sigh you finally managed to look up and almost immediately locked eyes with his so called best friend. You literally felt like your heart had skipped around 50 beats, because holy hell was that man attractive.

“..Nice to meet you, I’m Suguru..” His voice, dear lord-, you opened your mouth to speak only to hear yourself stutter like a middle schooler

“I..I’m..uh..I’m..I..”

“Her names Y/n” Gojo to the rescue- well that’s what you think until you see that evil ass smirk

“Yeah..im Y/n..” and that’s where it all began.

💕Everytime you would get around Geto your behavior would drastically change, from calm, cool and collected to a stuttering blushing mess.

💕Gojo was the first to pick up on this little crush of yours, always finding ways to bring Geto around you just to see that cool demeanor of yours collapse like a tower on an unstable foundation, and yes you hated him for it.

💕“Well while you two..chat up, I’m gonna get some drinks” He knew exactly, what he was doing, and now you found yourself all alone with the one man who made your heart flutter with just his words alone.

💕You refuse to make eye contact with him, your glance down as you fidgeted with your hands, it was quiet for just a moment until he spoke up.

“You know..I don’t bite right?”

💕You cleared your throat and tried to form a coherent sentence without making a fool of yourself…

“Well..yeah I know..I’m just..doing me..” You managed to reply.

“..is that so?…then look at me..”

💕Right then and there you felt like you could melt, you wanted to prove to yourself that no man Could make you weak in the knees. You wanted to look him dead in the eyes just to show him that you could, but..you couldn’t. You froze

💕Just then, then you felt a hand gently slide under your chin, your head turned to face Geto, that same smile that made you feel all melty inside on his face.

“Again, I don’t bite..”

💕Your heart nearly pumped out of your chest, your face heated, that man did something to you that even god himself couldn’t explain.. and you didn’t like it..you loved it

A/N: AHHH my first request! Thank you once again for it, and hopefully it lived up to your expectations for it! I tried to take my time on this one and make it more fanfic type of style! But other than that I hope yall enjoyed it! And my request are still open!

[diorsluv]

feather , part 1

“ not another take ”

series m. list next chapter

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes, markestapa, luca.fantilli, and 78,682 others

yourusername after 19 years of being my brother, jamie still takes the worst photos

view all comments

jamie.drysdale I WAS TAKING 50 PICS PER SECOND.

→ yourusername AND I WASN’T READY FOR ANY OF THEM.

→ jamie.drysdale you’re so ungrateful

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trevorzegras is he ruining your trip?

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username4 ur so stunning

username66 MY IDOLLL

markestapa come back to michigan we miss you 😞

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→ edwards.73 he’s WHINING

→ dylanduke25 he just collapsed onto the ground

→ mackie.samo i can hear him crying from the other side of the yost

→ jamie.drysdale WHO IS “HE”??? yourusername DO YOU KNOW WHO “HE” IS??? WHY DOES HE MISS YOU HELLO?

→ yourusername calm ur tits bro ✋

username1 what’s going on in mark’s replies..

lhughes_06 when are you coming back 🙏

lhughes_06 leave cali and come back 🙏

lhughes_06 imysm please come back to michigan 🙏

lhughes_06 i’m so lonely without you i need you to come back 🙏

lhughes_06 THOSE COMMENTS WERE NOT ME I SWEAR

→ yourusername awww i can’t believe you missed me that much

→ lhughes_06 NO PLEASE RUT STOLE MY PHONE YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE ME

→ rutgermcgroarty dude i’m deathly sick rn i physically cannot have stolen his phone

→ jackhughes aw moosey long distance isn’t working?

→ lhughes_06 WHY ARE YOU TARGETTING ME WHAT DID I DO

_quinnhughes are you flying up here when we play the ducks?

→ yourusername YOU KNOW IT

→ jamie.drysdale i’m trying to convince her not to i promise

→ yourusername i wouldn’t miss a chance to spend time with my huggy wuggy bear

→ _quinnhughes blocked.

username29 jamie’s an amazing photographer

liked by jamie.drysdale

username93 LUKE’S COMMENTS LMAOOO

→ yourusername he wants me to clarify that it “wasn’t him” (you shouldn’t believe him)

yourusername

liked by adamfantilli, lhughes_06, _alexturcotte and 92,177 others

yourusername guess who’s who??

tagged: edwards.73, markestapa, luca.fantilli, rutgermcgroarty

view all comments

mackie.samo how come i wasn’t invited 🙁

→ yourusername I’M SORRY THEY KIDNAPPED ME SO I COULDN’T INVITE YOU 💔💔💔

→ mackie.samo it’s okay we can still have our annual cookie baking session

→ rutgermcgroarty COOKIES?? CAN I JOIN

→ mackie.samo NO it’s us two only 😠

→ yourusername mack’s the boss, sorry rut

username47 tag yourself i’m the skeleton mark’s hugging

→ username22 how’d you know it’s mark wtf

→ username90 i’m the yellow glasses ethan’s wearing

jamie.drysdale of course you go and do this as soon as you get back

→ yourusername DON’T JUDGE

adamfantilli luca’s the second right one on the right photo isn’t he..

→ yourusername YES HOW’D YOU KNOW??

→ adamfantilli i could smell the stupidity

→ luca.fantilli WOAH WOAH?? WHAT DID I DO?

→ yourusername FANTILLI FIGHT ⁉️⁉️

→ adamfantilli mom got mad at me because YOU left the house messy before we left to catch our flight

→ luca.fantilli your room was the only messy room in the house stop lying

username65 friend group goals

liked by yourusername

username7 wtf i wanna do this with my friends

username74 FASHION ICONS

trevorzegras come back and watch us play lil drizzy ❤️

→ yourusername first of all never call me lil drizzy again

→ yourusername second of all i’m going to the nucks game when you play BE PATIENT 🙄

next chapter notes ) this was actually so fun to make im excited to make moreeee 🫣 also the official nickname is drizzle i’m calling it rn bc drysdale=drizzle=drizzy=drizz AND I KNOW IT SOUNDS STUPID BUT I SWEAR YOU WILL COME TO LOVE IT

[satoruhour]

🪻ugh your drabble about sore reader reminded of this one hc I think of so much that it’s embarrassing. Imagine gojo getting on sorcerer!reader’s nerves to the point that she and utahime almost have an anti-gojo hate club, and one time while bantering with him she jokes about his size or how he’s so self centred he probably can’t even make a woman cum.

Satoru only says “wanna see what I’m all about?” and safe to say she gets dicked down like there’s no tomorrow. Throughout the night he also makes fun of her for being all talk in the beginning but cumming so easily, makes her beg for it, will never let her live it down. Next day Utahime’s real pissed she lost her club’s vice chairperson.

My kitty isn’t even purring atp she’s meowing loud and crystal clear. Satoru who’s smug and a big tease in bed is so unbelievably sexy to me

a/n: discussions of incompetent dick game LMAO, oral f! receiving, fingering, p -> v sex, unprotected sex, creampies, multiple rounds

OHHHH MY GOD YOURE SO RIGHT ACTUALLY HYACINTH ANON sorry i took so long to get to this sobs. yes yesyes id like to think sorcerer was with them before but left the scene like nanami and never truly kept in touch with the students at tokyo high. id also like to think this happens before the actual series starts (ages 24 - 25) bc gojo might still be honing his technique and theres still that playful banter at that age. god and they have a school reunion and he does some annoying crap dude.... utahime is DEFINITELY debriefing with you after that whole thing. shes by your side the whole night recalling on the stupid shit gojo did as a hs kid, when he collapsed that mansion without putting up the veil. you had to calm her down LMFAO

but at the reunion there was alcohol and you both get hiiiiigh and all things get 18+ almost immediately, talking about how gojo def cant find the clit and he fingers women wrongly and cant make any use of his dick thats probs small 😭😭😭 which is like ... you also have an inkling that he might not be that small because he is .... 2 metres tall but ya never know with how cocky gojo is. and that inkling is gone instantly when u hear him talk cause his voice is so ANNOYING and dripping with cockiness. he also has that certain lilt in his voice that you realise he uses only with you, overly teasing and silky smooth and u hate how you notice that

gojo is fucked up as well, u know he doesnt hold his liqour well but hes sober enough to ask “wanna see what im all about?” and you especially hate how you look around to see where hime is at and when u just catch a glimpse of her heading into the bathroom, youre nodding slowly and you do nooooot know what youre getting urself into !

needless to say, gojo is already getting u so hot and bothered just from a simple kiss. he warped you two back to your apartment (bc he rather die than get found out by megs and tsumiki), which he has been to before !!!!! gods even the tension back then was so palpable but gojo was in a vulnerable place with geto and everything and didnt want to do anything that would hurt his heart more. you two make out for A WHILLLEEEE and if ure wondering if hes alr so good at kissing, what else is he good at ....?

youre proven wrong time and time again when gojo goes striaght for your clit, rubbing slow circles and he has u begging for more, more something just mere rubs. gojo has the gall to lick a stripe up your soaked panties and sucks a little at your clit and god he is LOVING the way all your previous insults about him fall short of your lips and doesnt have the same punch: “still doesnt prove your dick’s b-big—” gojo lips your panties to the side and eats you out. he eats. you. out. to prove a point but also he falls in love with your pussy, slobbering all over it and shit. “didnt tell my your pussy was so good, baby.” “cat got your tongue? do i live up to your standards?”

you realise hes cocky for a reason and that his tongue game is fucking insane. the same goes for his fingers, locking eyes when he first inserts his digits in and your moan is like heaven to gojo bc he likes nothing more than to prove people wrong. and this is the best way to do it !!!! “cum on my tongue, sweetness.” oh YOU DO !!! YOU DOOOOOO

and then you think gojos done with making his statement. nah. youre so fucked out just from oral and hes smirking down at you, bringing your hands to his crotch.

“what?”

“wan’ you to open my pants yourself.”

“so it’s small?”

gojo scoffs with a smile, he already finds himself addicted to you and your taste. “no. just curious to see your surprised face.”

it gets him off every time (even after dating. and cmon dont tell me you WONT be his gf or at least his fwb after this?) you react like that, mouth open and eyes never leaving his exposed cock that he could probably slam it inside.

wee woo and once he starts to fuck you ooohhhhhhggggghhh eveyrthing you say is INCOHERENT. you try to string words together, insults and name calling here and there but it’s always interrupted by moans and whines. “you’re so— mmhfuck— insanely anno— satoru!” its words and words but none of them make sense. youre drunk on his cock. he fucks you in every position imaginable and the first time he wants to pull out bc he isnt an asshole, you're trapping him between your legs and begging him to cum inside, inside, inside WOOOOWWW HE GOES INSANE.

“i’m on the pill, s-satoru! wan’ your cum inside, please, please—”

“you’re driving me fucking c—crazy. i will, i will.”

anyway yeah you guys go multiple rounds and youre rendered speechless at every turn, surprised at yourself that even when youre spent youre sinking down on his cock and riding him yourself right after you both came. everythings sticky and gross and gojos still sensitive but hes hooked on your pussy and lets you do whatever <33

the next morning u wake up caged in his arms and hes saying something annoying again. “wanna make this a regular thing?” and you attempt to reject him, pushing him away and getting up from your bed but youre sore everrywherreeee and he swoops in just as youre about to fall. “dick too good, huh?” you roll your eyes and just let yourself be pampered by him. you spend that next day just making out and being close to each other and u wonder what to tell utahime LMFOAAOAOA

you end up getting a few missed calls after gojo had sent a selfie of you both, blanket covering your naked bodies after doing the obvious and he just chucks ur phone to the side and continues to kiss you LMAOAOAOAO. oh sigh thats such a nice scenario maybe ill write it properly one day

hello hello!

[unforgivenn]

CHOKING IN WHUMP

I know this is like very basic in whump but its something I just CANNOT get over with.

It’s not just about the physical pain but also the mental and emotional anguish. It’s like a perfect storm of fear and helplessness, and that combination really gets me hooked.

Plus, there's something about the dynamic it creates between the whumpee and whumper. It adds layers of control and power plays, which can make the whole situation even more intense. The way it forces characters into such a vulnerable state is just sooo deliciousss.

What I love the most is the thought's that whumpee gets while being choked. When a character is choking, it’s like everything else fades away, and it’s just them and this immediate, life-or-death struggle. The thoughts are the one thing that changes the whole situation. It ramps up the tension and keeps them on edge, wondering how they’ll get out of it or if they’ll even make it.

Whumpee's breaths are ragged, each gasp a desperate plea that falls on deaf ears. The world seems to be narrowing, collapsing into a pinprick of darkness as their lungs scream for air that isn’t coming. Their mind races, a jumble of fragmented thoughts. Is this how it ends?

Whumpee can feel the pressure tightening, relentless. Their vision blurs, and they struggle to focus on anything but the suffocating grip around their throat. The room spins, and their heartbeat feels like it’s trying to break free from their chest. It’s like being trapped in a nightmare where the walls are closing in, and there’s no escape.

There’s an almost surreal clarity in this moment of terror. They think about everything They won’t get to do—no more sunrises, no more laughter, no more moments of peace. All those simple things I took for granted are slipping away, one choking gasp at a time.

Whumpee's hands claw uselessly at the constriction, nails digging into their skin, but it’s like trying to fight a storm with bare hands. Whumpee's thoughts are a blur of panic and regret, all mingled with a helpless resignation. I’m fading, losing grip on everything familiar.

The worst part? The absolute isolation. In this moment, no one can hear my silent screams. I’m utterly alone, drifting into the darkness with only the oppressive pressure as my cruel companion.

Is this it? Is this what it means to truly lose yourself? To have your life squeezed out of you, one choking breath at a time? The fear grips them like icy fingers, and whumpee can’t help but think that there’s no coming back from this.

Oh god oh god oh god Please please Im sorry im sorry

Please let my family be okay..

Finally.

So, yeah, choking in whump isn’t just about the physical act. It’s about the emotions, the stakes, and the dynamic it sets up. :))