#all i know is that i was hit with the feels and this is apparently what happens at 1:00AM on my notes app

[madamechrissy]

Baby You're a Star

Art in the banner by Kerravi on x!

Pairings- Pornstar Satoru x shy f!reader

Summary- You meet Satoru Gojo at a wild Hollywood party, insanely out of place, waiting for your friend to show up. The two of you hit it off, spending time together, and share a kiss, but you're a good girl, and you just don't do this, but he is the top pornstar there is, and the top .01 % on OnlyFans. Once you find out, you know there's probably no match, as Satoru doesn't date, and you don't sleep around, but after meeting, you keep in touch- and soon Satoru can't get hard without thinking of you, and you get over curious, and join a livestream of the boy you like. Just how will that go for you both!? WC this chap- 11.5k (longestt)

Warnings- WOW this chap has it all, heed the warnings - filming porn masturbation ( m) oral (m and f receiving) spit kink HIGH KEY, mentions of cum, multiple rounds, switching positions, size kink, swallowing (M and F) explicit sex, feral Gojo, squirting, mating press, tummy bulges, lots of fucking goddamn- Gojo is whipped mutual pining, obsessive Gojo. Angsty asf in places, lots of jealousy

A/N- Taglist closed- This was so smut filled I took MULTIPLE breaks aha, maybe my most smut filled one ever? don't read in public actually - please comment/rb if you enjoy <3

<<<Chapter Two - Masterlist- Playlist- Chapter Four>>> (coming soon)

Chapter Three

You can’t escape the desire you have, even in your dreams.

Waking up cumming was not just new, it was ridiculous, and you didn’t even know that happened until this morning. Waking up with your cunt throbbing around nothing, and gushing arousal, as your dream was filled with Satoru kissing you, fucking into you with that thick, huge cock, hitting spots deep inside that felt real even in your dreams.

That’s it, sweetheart, cum all around my cock, hmm? Lemme feel her- there you go, baby.

That had done too much to your sleeping brain apparently, because you couldn’t stop cumming either, crying out and whining when you’d touched your cunt and felt the slick coating everything. After shaking violently from it, you’d peeked and seen a good morning text from him, all while you had to go get cleaned up, trying to compose yourself before you texted back.

Jenna calls now, shaking you out of your reverie, and the two of you plan lunch the next day. “You’re having dinner with him?”

“Yeah, but as a… friend?”

“Oh baby, you’re too cute.” You sigh, leaning back as you stir up some dough for cookies you were baking later, the sunlight filtering in through the little kitchen window you have open wide. You peer out into the sky, thinking it’s not as pretty as Satoru’s eyes.

“I do really feel things, but Jenna I can’t not be near him, if it’s as a friend, then it’s as a friend.” Jenna sighs louder than you did. “Are we having a sighing contest?”

“I’ll win any loud moan contest, but your sighs are cuter.”

“Jenna!”

You both laugh then, and a beep sounds on your phones. “Ah, looks like he’s going to stream. Gonna go watch your friend?”

“You’re an instigator. Maybe.” She giggles again, as you finish preheating the oven, scooping the dough onto the parchment paper.

“Be careful, you’re a grown woman, and things change, but don’t forget yourself, okay?” You pause then, emotions catching in your throat at her words. “I’m not trying to be the ‘mom’ I swear.”

“I know, Jenna. I love you, see you soon?” You end the call after she says goodbye, popping the cookies in the oven and turning them on. You set up your laptop, deciding to do some work for the weekend on a project your friend hired you for, but the temptation of seeing Satoru keeps nagging at your mind.

The man certainly has a pretty cock, but you think it’s the way he looks at the camera that fucks you up, it’s probably why he’s so good at it, his job. And he clearly enjoyed it, even though you know he was having a little difficulty with the last shoot, perhaps he prefers solo lately? To think you had anything to do with that was foolish, so you wouldn’t allow the thought.

The timer beeps, you stand up and stretch, turning off the timer and oven then, grabbing a bright red oven mitt and pulling out the sheet pan, smelling delectable, the steam hot and rising, scent filling your nostrils. You loved to bake, especially when you were stressed, and you suppose you were, having feelings for a man currently stroking his cock for the camera was conflicting at best.

You keep trying to tell yourself that it’s not feelings, that you’re inexperienced and confused, but you know you’re lying to yourself. You eye that silver laptop again, remembering the last time, the image of him sucking his own cum off his fingers is burned deep, a core memory at this fucking point. You shake it off, then sigh, giving into temptation.

You’d just tip him a hundred again to be supportive, you tip Jenna all the time, it’s fine, it’s something a friend can do.

Right?

You log in to the onlyfans platform, the black and blue OF making you just a bit nervous, clicking on the stream then, taking several breaths as you click on it. Fully prepared to be soaking wet, the sight that greets you is not Satoru stroking his cock, it’s another woman, her thighs spread, while Satoru runs circles on her clit. She’s propped on his lap, her head against his bare collarbones, moaning.

Your heart shatters then, and it shouldn’t, no you’re so stupid!

You are Satoru’s friend, and it was your choice to check his stream, to tip and be supportive but ultimately you know what you potentially signed up for. You saw him with Jenna, and for whatever reason that had not bothered you- maybe because it was before he touched you, looked at you like that.

The girl in front of him has two of his fingers shoved deep as he has her feet propped up on his thighs while you blink away stupid tears that shouldn’t exist, there’s no anger but there’s so much jealousy you shock yourself. You’re a girl’s girl, you’re supportive, what is this!? You’d like to rip her right off his lap, and you hate yourself for it right now.

You shake it off, looking away as the cookies fill your home with the sweet scent of sugar and chocolate. It should be a cheery morning, but you can’t even focus on anything but the conflict in your heart. You stare back again, hearing Satoru’s soft, husky voice, watching all the comments in the chat while he grips one of her breasts in his big hand.

Her head falls forward, and the way you vividly imagine it being you instead has you heating up, in more ways than excitement, embarrassment - you’d never be that girl for him, you wish you could be that way. But Satoru and you together felt too special, especially to share, how could you fall when this was your idea!?

You can’t be upset.

You take a breath, shutting your eyes and looking away as his voice resonates through the laptop’s speakers, echoicing in the quiet. If you were crazy enough you’d say it sounded different than with you, that he let go more, that you were even wetter when he touched you, but you’re starting to think you’re delusional.

“So, we wanna hit this spot right here, for any men watching, you’re gonna curl up here, that spot feels good, doesn’t it honey?” Your jaw sets, swiping tears from under your glasses now.

“Ah, y-yes Gojo!” Her moan echoes too much, he pauses then, the squelching of her cunt stops, it’s all quiet as he just stares at the camera like he’s staring at you, his lips parted, eyes widening just a bit, but there’s no way.

You’ve lost it.

You tip him the hundred as you’d intended to, quickly shutting your laptop and damn near hyperventilating. What’s wrong with you!? His job is to fuck women, so you saw him touching one, what do you expect? The man had a gang bang scene just yesterday, and dinner with you tonight. You have to shove it all down then, you have to remember what he does.

It didn’t mean it wasn’t special though, for you.

Did he do things off camera with-

Stop it!

The phone rings a few minutes later and you just stare at it, lost in your own head, wishing you could compartmentalize it so much better, that you could separate the two. You were so stupid for engaging and knowing, but at the same time, to not have Satoru seems like something you can’t compute, even if it is just as a friend, even if you can’t be sexual.

Maybe you read it all wrong, that night.

Satoru calls again, shaking out his hand as his co star is now fucking herself quite expertly on a dildo, since Satoru can’t get hard for anything - it’s worse today than yesterday - he decided to turn it into a guided masturbation video. At least his fucking fingers still work, despite jerking off to you so much his cock is raw, remembering your lips surrounding it.

Even fingering her he’s picturing your pussy, fuck he wants to just bury his face in it again, he knows the two of you are ‘friends’ or whatever the fuck this was, but it’s exceedingly difficult when it’s affecting him like this. He keeps wondering if you all sleep together, will it make it worse or better? Was he all in his head, as if you would go for someone like him if he did date.

What was he thinking lately?

He saw your name in the stream and his stomach had dropped - and why, you’re just a friend, it was fine if you wanted to see a bit of a stream and tip, he knows it is to be supportive. You’re supportive and sweet, so sweet, god your taste and scent still haunt him, he’s been dying to see you tonight, in any capacity, but when he saw the name he felt awful.

He only wants to fuck you, touch you, but he has a career and commitments, to get her to agree to this instead of fucking was already difficult and he was slowly losing it as his cock kept refusing to work. Even if he could get it up, he didn’t like the idea of fucking someone else at all, after the debacle of a gang bang yesterday. But even touching someone was doing nothing for him.

Now he saw you leave so quickly, and decided to gently smack his co star’s ass, smiling as he bent her over, murmuring he needs a break. She eagerly took over the spotlight, the opportunity was a huge one for her anyway as a smaller star. Satoru keeps staring at your picture, sighing as he notices the little reflections in your glasses, touching the screen softly.

You saw him touching someone, did you care, did it bother you-

Why is he thinking like this!?

He calls again, and you answer, much to his relief, as his hands let go of the bathroom counter he’d gripped too tightly. “Hey Satoru, sorry I popped in, I thought it was um… you…”

“Jerking off?” He finishes the sentence, leaning back against his wall and shutting his eyes.

“Yeah, I didn’t know you did um… shoots at home. You should get back to it, why are you calling me, silly? Looks like um… you were, ah… doing… good.” You’re breaking out every voice, cursing yourself quietly, why can’t you just speak? You’re shoving it all down, trying not to cry - there’s no reason to!

“Ah, yeah I thought I’d try to teach people how to make women cum, they fail often you know.” He tries to make it light, as his stomach clenches, a sick feeling when he hears your forced laugh.

“That’s very true. Someone should give you a Nobel prize for this work.” He snorts then, as the laughter becomes a little more genuine. “No you’re amazing at that. Why not show them how?”

“You thought I was amazing, hmm?” His tone changes, cock throbbing when he just hears your sigh, picturing you vividly in his mind, while the sounds of his co-star echo, moans and squelching wetness that does nothing for him.

Didn’t he used to enjoy all of this?

“You know I thought that.” Your heart pounds, you have to remember, Satoru is amazing and just because you’re hurt, you can’t be mad or upset at him. He’s not yours in any way, even if you’re starting to wish he was. “Isn’t your co-star waiting?”

“She’s occupying herself fine. It’s not… sex…” Because I can’t get hard unless it’s you. “It’s just a tutorial.”

“Oh,” your relief shouldn’t exist, you shouldn’t care, but to hear that does make you slump over just a bit, before taking a breath. “Do you want to do dinner another day, it’s already four-”

“No, no!” Satoru panics then, since when does smooth pornstar Satoru freak the fuck out and act desperate? “I mean, no. I want to see you tonight. I have time to shower and get there.”

He wants to wash any of this girl off, frantically actually, he wants you all over him, even if it’s just him pleasing you more. But moreso, even if you just wanted to have dinner and that was it, he’d be happy, though the thought of fucking you with his fingers while you eat dessert is insanely tempting, making his tip drool precum quite annoyingly as he glares in the mirror.

“Okay good, I was looking forward to it.” Your whisper is soft and genuine, as he sees the red on his cheeks, the black pupils, just thinking of you shifts his entire face.

Fuck.

“I’ll start getting ready, I think it’s time you see I can get dressed up.” You tease softly, swiping stupid tears and trying to plaster a bright smile on your face as you stare in your mirror. Your eyes are puffy, the color drained from your face, lips trembling - just seeing that has affected your entire face, taking off your glasses so you don’t even have to look at yourself for a moment.

“I bet you’re gonna kill me, you look so pretty any time I see you,” his voice is hoarse, as he spills the vulnerable truth, and the two of you shut your eyes, leaning against your bathroom counters. “But I’m excited to see you dolled up.”

“Are you, Satoru?” You try to hide the insecurities haunting you, hearing his sexy, heavy sigh on the other line.

“Very excited. I’ll see you soon, sweets.”

The two of you hang up and you sigh, eyeing the clock now - you have about two hours to get ready, and you’re so nervous your palms are sweaty and numb. It may just be two ‘friends’ having dinner, but you want to shove that image back you just saw, and focus, and try to look beautiful tonight.

Satoru’s own hands are numb, as he curses, slamming a hand on his forehead, unable to think of anything but you, barely able to pull himself together. When he walks out, Suguru is there, nibbling in the kitchen, raising a brow at him. “You good, Satoru?”

“Fine, I… you wanna finish that for me?” He gestures to the room, while Suguru sips down water. “I think I have a kind of date or something.”

“A date!? Huh?” Satoru just looks away, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I don’t think it’s a date, it’s friends or something? Maybe... I don’t know. Is dinner a date if it's not with a costar?” Suguru rolls his violet eyes, sighing as he washes his hands now, patting them dry with a paper towel.

“You’re acting weird as fuck lately, that cute little good girl got you simping?” Satoru scoffs, rolling his blue eyes now.

“Suguru, just do me a solid.” Satoru pouts, earning Suguru’s scoff.

“Fine, fine, but you owe me one.” Suguru and Satoru enter the room, as Satoru eases the transition, the notes in the chat are going insane, he can’t help but exhale in relief, before pausing at the thought.

Was there some way to save his malfunctioning dick?

*****

Satoru whistles when he meets you at the restaurant that evening, running just a little late, you're sitting there nibbling on your thumb, peering at the menu when he arrives. Your eyes light up behind a different pair of glasses, these have cute red rims, matching the red dress you're wearing that's making him ache.

He hasn't seen you in something like this, not that you weren't always pretty, but when you stand up and he sees how it fits your body it almost takes him everything to hold back. Vividly picturing bending you right over that table and fucking you in front of the entire restaurant, gripping the red shimmery fabric that drapes across every line and curve of that body.

He can't form a word, notoriously known for never shutting up, but he can't think of anything to say, when you shyly look down, hands fidgeting in front of your lap, and he’s standing there sputtering. It’s awkward even, until the waitress comes up and smiles over at Satoru, gesturing to a seat, saying - ‘This must be the friend you were waiting for!’

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting, you look beautiful.” He says finally, pressing a kiss to your cheek, feeling it heat up against his lips. You shake your head with a sweet turn of your lips, kissing his cheek in turn.

“You’re fine, Satoru, I still haven’t learned LA time.” He chuckles at that just a bit, sitting across from you now, before deciding to sit next to you instead, shoulders brushing together.

“This feels more comfy? It feels all formal the other way.”

“Does it feel too… date like?” He falters then, because that was not it, but the doubt has crept in on your face, when the waitress asks you all for your order, and he has to blink back the confusion. “What do you suggest?”

“Want me to order for you?” You nod shyly, god the submissive nature of you makes him ache in way too many ways, knowing how perfect of a girl you’d be for him in every aspect. “We’ll have this,” he says, pointing to the menu now. “And bring two glasses of champagne please.”

“Are we celebrating?” You tease, handing the waitress the menu, Satoru chuckles a bit, shaking his head while you take in how handsome he looks, brushing your fingers against his suit jacket. “You look so good, Satoru.”

“Thank you, sweets.” He holds your hand then, fuck it feels too good, pressing it against the dark red suit jacket that truly only he could pull off, black button down shirt left open, showing enough of his chest to make anyone die over. Your eyes look at it now, a few of the chains he wears resting along the strong muscles, settling between his collarbones. “You’re making me look bad, wearing in that dress.”’

“No way!”

“Absolutely, you are. You’re so pretty, fuck…” He’s brushing back a tendril, as you eye him, that look that drives him insane, the look that’s ruined him since he met you. He tries to smirk, to act calm, teasing, “I look that good?”

“Yes, shit. Sorry.” He laughs softly, shaking his head when you pull your hand back gently.

“We match, great minds you know.”

“Indeed, we clearly coordinated telepathically!” He laughs then, and it's just like that first night, when you and him just hit it the fuck off. It’s comfortable, it’s fun - so fun - that people smile at the two of you, as you laugh like friends for years. It’s how it feels, like you’ve known him, a way you can’t explain.

But you wished it was just the friendliness, not the heat in your tummy when he wipes a droplet of clear, bubbly champagne from his plump lips, if every time his thigh brushed yours you didn’t melt. Someone comes up then, a really pretty girl, and you feel Satoru stiffen a bit, making you tense, sipping on the tart champagne and averting your eyes a bit.

“Gojo, it's been what, a year?!” He smiles with ease, standing and kissing her cheek, hugging her tightly.

“It has been, shit, how you been?” It’s all very Hollywood, their exchange, you feel you’ll never figure it out, the two years you’ve been here after relocating and you still couldn’t get being kissy on everyone.

It makes you think of him earlier, his fingers in that-

Stop that!

He’s saying your name you errantly realize, you plaster on a smile as she looks at you curiously, eyeing you up and down. “Co-star?”

“No, no, she’s my friend. She’s a good girl.” He winks down at you, and she giggles then, holding her hand out.

“It’s awesome to meet you!”

“You too. Are you um…”

“A former co-star, yeah. Satoru is the best in the industry.” Ah, so she fucked him, too. You want to be petty and scowl and you hate yourself for it more.

You never, ever are like this.

You never have been.

She’s touching his shoulder and making you sick, when your eyes catch a familiar face, a man standing with a group of other men, smiling over at you, he’s one of your co-workers that is always working. You wave at him while Satoru finishes his conversation, and he adjusts his tan jacket, touching the arm of one of the men, letting them go as he walks to you.

You tense just a bit, while the girl finally leaves, and Satoru’s sitting next to you once more, as his phone rings. He turns it off, jaw tensing when a blond man takes your hand and bends down at the waist, like some old school gentleman, pressing a kiss to the back of your delicate wrist, the pretty bracelet slides down your arm as he does it, and he watches your blush.

The fuck.

He was trying his best to get that girl to go on, so he could get back to talking to you, but now some random guy has your attention, and Satoru doesn’t like it, not one fucking bit. “Nanami, this is Satoru.”

“Nanami, huh?” He leans back, flipping off his phone again, you look at him curiously.

“Need to grab that?” You ask, and he shakes his head, swiping it off once more, ignoring his manager while this Nanami guy eyes you behind green glasses.

“You look stunning, is that alright to say?” You giggle again, Satoru glares at you, how dare you giggle at him!?

He told you that you looked beautiful. Did you giggle?

He wants to punch this smirking man in the face.

What’s wrong with him!?

“Thank you, Nanami, I guess you don’t see me too dressed up at work, huh? You always dress so well.”

“Oh stop, you’re flattering me. And this is your…” He trails off, looking at Gojo, who has to wipe the glare off his face for a moment.

Say it, Satoru.

More than a friend.

You look at him then, as if you’re waiting for him to say that, to say something, while Nanami’s lips quirk up just a bit, making Satoru want to smack him again. He takes a breath, smiling then instead of glaring, but his hand is on the small of your back. “We’ve become close friends, very quickly.”

“Oh? I’ve known her for a long time,” Nanami says, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away. You look at Satoru, whose phone starts ringing again, and he curses, rolling his blue eyes. “Need to take that?”

“It’s my manager, they have horrible timing. I’ll be right back.” He murmurs, you smile understandingly, while his manager trips on him about earlier.

He knows his dick doesn’t work, and now he knows he hates touching anyone, but he doesn’t know how to explain it to anyone when he has no fucking clue why this is happening. He’s obsessed with a sweet, shy little thing that is currently getting hit on by a dude buffer than him.

Maybe he’d be good for you.

Satoru is too petty to admit it though, glaring instead while his manager goes on and on. “Listen, I get it, you need content.”

“We need you with women, a lot of your viewers are men, they’re not gonna tune in to watch you solo. Find someone that works for you, I don’t care who at this point, but we’re just not gonna make profit if you keep turning down roles. Or, I heard, you shoved a girl off on Geto.”

“I didn’t… shove her off, I just…” Satoru frowns again, the blond man is sitting next to you in the other seat, your eyes are on Satoru however they turn away when he catches your gaze.

He just wants to fuck you right in front of that fucking man now. God, if you would be interested in starring in something, you’d make bank, it’s not just his obsession, your pussy is the prettiest one he’s seen. Your tits, your body, they’re all so sexy, and your pretty face with those glasses? You’d kill any sexy nerd shoot there was.

“Satoru!”

Shit.

He can’t get the vision of you in some slutty ass librarian outfit from running through his head.

“Yeah, I got it. I’ll try to get something going, I mean I was gonna do a solo tonight anyway.”

“That’s fine, but remember you’re a lot more than just Onlyfans. You’re a star, Satoru, that comes with a certain level of appearances. So whatever is going on, you gotta get it together, or we’re both not making shit.” He sighs, leaning back against the wall now, eyes going back to you, giggling at something he’s said.

He’s too close to you.

Why does he mind so much?

“I’ll get a shoot done.” The words feel horrible, the thought of fucking anyone else just seems like an impossibility, and he doesn’t know how to compute it in his mind.

What did you do?

“Alright, I expect some video with a woman - not with Suguru. Though…”

“I’m not fucking Suguru.” He chuckles as people look at him a bit, running a hand through his white locks. “He is pretty but not my type.”

“He’s gonna be your type if you turn down every other actress.”

“Ugh.”

“Mmhmm, talk to you later.” He hangs up, frowning at his phone, trying to gather himself before he does something so stupid, jealousy filling him and for what?

You’re talking. You’re not his. He had his fingers buried in a girl this morning, why does he care if you did anything? He knows you’re not that girl, though, but you choose to be with him. It makes him feel far, far more special than he’d admit, the fact that you want him, that you trust him. Was he mistaking the look in your eyes, was it just desire there?

“If you are single, would you mind a date sometime? I haven’t had so much fun talking in a long time.” Nanami says softly, making you look down shyly, lashes casting shadows on your cheeks from the soft lights hanging above you in the dimly lit, pretty restaurant. “Am I too bold?”

“No, no. I just haven’t been on a date in forever.” Satoru feels like he’s been punched in the chest as he hears, nearing the table and acting like he didn’t wanna yank you to him and kiss you then and there.

But he chose to tell him you’re friends, that’s what you were, a friend he wants to fuck all night in every position imaginable. Then lick his own cum out of your cunt, abused from his cock, and fuck you all morning. God he can’t stop thinking about them all, have you dragged on his face, his hands on your waist, let you ride his mouth till he couldn’t breathe.

Real fucking friendly.

Satoru’s hands grip and release while he hears your answer, “I will think about it, Mr. Nanami, it may be fun.”

That’s almost a yes.

Fuck.

“Think about what?” He asks with a smile, leaned back in the booth, a hand brushing your bare thigh under the table, where your dress had slid up from you sitting, he feels it tense while he drags his fingertips across it, eyeing you then.

Was Satoru trying to confuse you more? You look at him again, some toxic part of you that you don’t recognize wants him to claim you, what the fuck was that!? You have never been that way, you’ve never been a lot of things until you met this blue-eyed man, however, and even with a handsome Nanami flirting, you can’t get Satoru’s moans out of your mind.

Snap out of it!

“A date with your lovely friend. You two are just friends?” He looks between the two of you now, and Satoru opens his mouth, but what can he say?

It’s what you ‘are’.

Would he be worthy of dating you if he wanted to, when his job was fucking other women? You didn’t deserve that, you deserved to be the only one, fuck you literally had become his one singular, consuming thought. He smiles good naturedly, eyeing you now, watching you bite your lower lip, teeth digging into the plush of it, while your thighs tremble just a bit.

“We just met at a party a few weeks ago, but we are really close. Quickly.” He murmurs.

“Can’t see you partying.” Nanami’s hand comes to touch your other thigh, and for a girl who hasn’t had any in forever, the sensation of two big hands on your thighs is addling your mind. “No offense, darling you seem a little straight laced…” his words are trailed off with his hand squeezing gently.

Satoru scowls at him.

Is he touching you!?

Do you like it?

“I don’t party, it’s true.” You smile now, a hand over his, thumbs brushing his knuckles, while Satoru’s squeezing so hard you wince before he realizes it, letting go of his grip, but the hand staying on your knee. “I think we could go on a date sometime, as long as it doesn’t make work weird.”

“Not at all, all right I’ll leave you two to hang out then,” he stands, holding out a hand for Satoru, he squeezes the shit out of Nanami’s hand with a forced smile, only for Nanami to squeeze tighter. And fuck he’s strong. Then, he takes your hand, murmuring a - “I’ll see you at work, then,” and kissing the back of your hand. “Darling.”

Darling.

Satoru will show him darling.

You giggle, only pissing him off more, nodding shyly, fuck you’re cute even when you’ve made him furious. He’s shared women so many times he can’t count, even girls he got closer to, regular girls that you could almost say he ‘dated’ he’d still regularly bang out with his friends. He’s not possessive in general, he’s open minded and a free spirit.

Or he was!?

“Sounds good, Mr. Nanami.” He hates how you say his name, when the man in the khaki suit and dumbass cheetah tie leaves, finally. “He’s so sweet.”

“Yeah, so sweet.” You look at him then, narrowing your eyes curiously.

“You don’t like him?”

“I don’t know him. Seems boring, pretentious.” You blink in confusion, eyeing the retreating figure walking out, he even waves at you, which you return.

“He doesn’t seem like either to me. Satoru, you said we are just friends, are you worried that we won’t… do all that we do if I date someone?” Your words drop to a quiet murmur, and he sighs.

“Yes I would be very upset if I didn’t get to taste you again, why wouldn’t I be? It’d be a fuckin’ tragedy, sweetheart.” His words are too husky, when he leans against you, turning just so, his fingers slipping up your inner thigh, a side of sweet, nice Satoru you hadn’t seen yet, you almost think he looks…

He can’t be jealous.

Right?

You're delusional.

“I don’t just sleep around, so if we went on a date I wouldn’t do that. But, if I hit it off, and got serious, I wouldn’t continue our… lessons. I can only be with one person at one time.” He tenses then, is he going to lose you before he even gets you? “I don’t care if you do the same, I know it’s your job, but I couldn’t.”

“I’m not fucking anyone right now. My manager is bitching at me about it.” You tilt your head curiously, the chandelier earrings dancing in glittering prisms along your neck as you study him. “I’m having issues on set.”

“Is everything okay?” You ask, concern in your voice now, as he shakes his head. “Satoru, what's wrong?”

“I’m not in a good headspace it seems, the gang bang I failed, and I pushed the girl this morning on Suguru. So if I don’t give my manager something, they’re gonna be pissed. And no money for us if I can’t show up.”

“What’s wrong though, you seemed fine with Jenna in what I watched? Is this a new problem?” God you’re clueless to your effects, aren’t you? You touch his thigh too, instantly making his cock hard, looking down and getting flustered, he feels your heat, just making him harder. “You seem to work fine to me. Are the cameras getting too stressful?”

“I don’t know, but it really is a problem. Do you think… you could help your very handsome, amazing friend out?” You look up at him, curious.

“Help how?”

“Your good video skills, film a hot jerk off stream, good angles? Maybe that will get enough money he’ll chill some until I get over this.” You look away, the images of Satoru stroking his cock are burned in your brain. “Too much?”

“No, no. I can help, I feel I am taking up your time-”

“You’re not.” He cups your face then, turning it to him. “You’re never taking up my time, I enjoy being here. Okay?” You exhale, fuck had you been worried about that!?

How could you not know how badly he craves your presence?

“I feel bad that you’re going through this, is it the lesson?”

“The lesson did bring your taste into my mouth, and maybe no one tastes as sweet, it’s true,” his thumb brushes across your jaw line, smiling at how embarrassed you get then. “I think your taste would help me out.”

“Then, I’ll film you, but I can’t guarantee the quality.”

“It’ll be impeccable.” He raises two fingers, making your mind go to places it shouldn’t, you know another ‘lesson’ or session, or any time at all with Satoru was dangerous.

You’re teetering on the edge of feelings constantly, but you can do this, right, separate the two? He seems so good at it, at being your friend and then doing more, and you almost failed completely. You almost couldn’t say yes to Nanami because you are currently so delusional you think this star is so interested in you for more.

You have to accept him for who he is, no matter what, this was your choice to join his life at all. You take a breath now, trying to flip that switch off, the one that can’t stop thinking how much you’d love to kiss him, every minute of every day. The side that’s upset his fingers were inside someone, you have to throw her aside, and enjoy what’s here while it’s here.

He makes you question so much constantly, like every minute spent under that cerulean gaze brings out a side of you that you never knew of, some inner sexual side that only he can ignite. It’s so beautiful and special, his breath against your lips, you want to press them to yours, but so unsure, was he not about to be affectionate in public with you?

Was this just left for home?

He changes your thoughts when he kisses your forehead, far too sweet, then your cheeks, hot to the touch, down to your nose, making you giggle, relax. “You never ever waste any time.”

“I needed that.” You exhale, kissing his lips quickly as he smiles against your lips, and you pull back quickly. “I’d love to help you out.”

“I’ll make it worth your while, pretty.” His thumb brushes the slick on your upper thigh, right by your panties, watching your lashes flutter shut, as you take a shaky breath. “Come back to my place?”

“For the night or…”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure-”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Satoru’s paying the bill, signing a signature and leaving a hefty tip, then, holding out a hand for you.

“Did you drive here?” You shake your head, and he smiles, snatching up his phone now. “Perfect, I’ll have my driver take us over.”

*****

The second time coming to Satoru’s home was a little different, you were more comfortable, slipping off your heels now, he bends down to help you again, kissing your knees as he does, hands slipping up your thighs. Your hand brushes a lock of his white hair back, the unreal way you feel this comfortable, this drawn to him, makes your heart ache.

You’re so scared you’ll get hurt more, but you can’t stop yourself from being near him, from him looking at you like you’re the only fucking girl there is, are you so delusional?

Just enjoy it.

You close your eyes, sighing as he stands, kissing your lips again, easing your hand bag off your shoulder, brushing his thumbs across the mark it’s left on your shoulder. “Want another drink?”

“Yes please, if I’m going to be a porn director.” He laughs softly, shaking his head and taking off his suit jacket, laying it across the back of a chair when he pulls out the same bottle you’d sipped last time.

“You liked this one, hmm?” You nod, surprised he’d remember, taking the sweet liquid in the crystal glass, fingers brushing now. “Don’t get drunk though, I can’t have a shaky ass camera.”

“So demanding already, you really gonna make it worth my while you say?” You’re trying to tease back, like you can breathe or function in his presence, he just sighs, brushing back your hair behind your ear.

“That and more, sweetheart. We have hardly started doing things together, there is so much I can think of,” his hands slip lower, down the side of your neck, watching the goosebumps raise as he does, sighing at how perfect you look in his kitchen. “So many positions.”

“How many are there!?” He laughs now, at your embarrassed little look, pressing a boop to your nose.

“You’re endlessly adorable. Corruptible.”

“Oh!” He’s taking his own glass now, guiding you by your hand.

“Suguru’s out for the night, so we won’t get interrupted.” He’s leading you to his room, yanking off that black top, pausing as he sets up the ring light and grabs the camera, handing it to you, fingers brushing against each other. “You ready?”

“Ready,” your squeak of an answer makes him pause, taking your free hand, putting it on his bare chest as your heart hammers, trailing the hand lower to his belt and swallowing. “Need help?”

“Yes, I do.”

He needs you.

He’s desperate for you, fuck.

You’ve helped him undress, on your knees on the soft, plush carpet, when you start the stream, and he starts stroking that long, thick length right in front of you, he keeps looking at you, even when you gesture to the camera. He’s moaning, spitting on his tip, making it slicker for his big hand which still can’t come close to covering it, twisting and moving it all for you.

For his fans.

It’s hard to remember them when your cunt throbs, when you’re so overheated you can hardly stand it, and Satoru’s talking, low and hoarse. “Gonna cum so much, fuck…”

When he’s cumming you damn near do just looking, thighs pressing together for that friction, mouth fucking dry when your shaky legs nearly give out, while you come from a lower angle, reading the comments of his spurting cum, shooting up against his silvery happy trail, sticking all over, making you ache to drink it up.

“Fuck, I’ve made a mess, need someone to clean me all up.” Satoru whispers, while you barely are able to hold up the camera any longer, the livestream is avid with questions, namely - who is filming Satoru Gojo? And offers from many viewers to lick every bit of him up.

Satoru should stare at the camera, but he’s looking up into your eyes instead, stroking his cum soaked length slowly, just pumping more cum out of his tip, so much it’s ridiculous, dripped down to his balls and inner thighs. You swallow nervously, tummy clenched with desire, knowing you needed to stay quiet for the stream of curious viewers.

Satoru murmurs cut then, and  you do just that, shutting off the feed, and setting down the phone with a shaky hand, clearing your throat. “They loved it I think.”

“C’mere.” He crooks two fingers, and you eagerly obey, walking up to him now, tempting him to no end with the way your eyes drink him in. “On your knees, sweetheart.”

You obey again, eagerly in fact, looking up at him under lowered lashes as his clean hand slips up the side of your pretty neck, then around to the nape of it, entangling in your locks. Your soft whine and shift of your hips are all he needs to know you’re enjoying it, your hands obediently on your thighs, as if waiting for his every order, so sexy he feels his cock twitch back to life.

“Do you want to clean me up?” He asks softly, but the command in his tone is there, you nod and he exhales, tugging you towards him then. “Then do a really good job, sweets. Lick every bit clean like a good girl, and I’ll reward you.”

“I’ll do a good job.” Your whisper wrecks him, as he guides your head down, and you suck him, still hard, into your hot, eager mouth. Your soft whine vibrates around him, his head falling back as your mouth moves.

He can’t help but think of earlier.

A date, you were gonna go on a date, and he hates the idea, no, he fucking detests the idea in fact, the rage alone making him fuck your throat deeper, harder, feeling you gag and choke on him instead of anyone else. He shouldn’t feel possessive over his friend, a friend who’s sucking his cum, who’s swallowing him up, all he can think is his, his, his.

But you weren’t his.

How could you ever be?

Satoru’s never felt anything better than your throat, except he’s a million percent sure your cunt is better, he knows it would suck him up so greedy. When tears fall from your pretty eyes, it’s hotter than any blow job he’s had on set, the eagerness and desperate need to please far surpasses experience, your glasses fogging up when you pull back to take a breath then.

Satoru looks at his slick, spit covered cock, to thin trails of saliva disintegrating between your lips as you pull back, swiping at your lower lip. “How did I do?”

“Perfect.” His whisper is genuine, the words feel too good, you know you should stop, that you already wish he was yours, but you’re too addicted to how those blue eyes make you feel like you’re the only girl there is.

Even if it’s an illusion, a trick of your brain, or a practiced look.

The feeling is too euphoric not to be corrupted by it.

“You did such a good job, look at it, not any cum left. You sucked it all down, so greedy huh?” His hand comes under your chin, squeezing your neck gently yet so possessive, he wants to say it - his - but he knows he can’t. But it’s too easy to teeter off the edge, when your breaths come faster, breasts pressed up in that dress, rising and falling with each one.

“Satoru… I can keep going.” Your soft voice nearly ends him, little hand stroking his cock again.

“I was thinking of something, but if you don’t want to, it's okay.” You blink a bit then, tilting your head, tendrils falling against your bare shoulders.

“What is it?”

“A scene with me, but not showing your face at all,” your gasp and pull back makes him sigh. “It’d be like me eating your pussy, we could have it zoomed so no one sees your face.”

The thought, along with Satoru's sweet cum down your throat makes your tummy clench, while he brings out more and more of you that you didn't know existed. Your hands tense on his thighs now, taking a shaky breath, fingers along the downy hair on his thighs. “I don’t… Satoru you have a million options for costars-”

“I want yours. It’s the prettiest I’ve ever fucking seen.”

“Satoru…”

“It is. Wanna argue about my expertise here?” You just get more flustered and flushed, looking down nervously, but he tilts your chin with his big hand, angling your gaze upward. “I’ll split all the pay, you get eaten out, and anonymously. I’d never tell anyone, I’d never risk your career or anything. But I do need to do one, and I hate the thought of it not…” Satoru trails off now, the words sinking in.

“You like eating me out that much?” Your whisper makes him chuckle then, nodding and swallowing nervously.

“That pussy is perfect. How about we film it, and you watch it, and if you don’t want to, I just keep it to jerk off to…” Shit, he said that.

He’s so desperate and pathetic.

But you flush again, surprising him with your nod.

“Shit really!?”

“We can film it for us to watch, and… I doubt I’ll be okay sharing it, but we can see if you- ah!” Satoru’s got you lifted so fast you barely can blink, unzipped and turned in moments, leaving you in the prettiest red lace lingerie that makes him groan, his fingertips trembling on your skin. “I said probably not, don’t get excited.”

“I’m excited to bury my face between your thighs again, sweetheart.” You cry out when he’s pressed you on the bed, spreading your thighs and groaning, fingers tugging at your panties.

“How can you make sure my face isn’t there?” You ask softly, he grabs the camera and the stand then, cock just swinging around, balls smacking his thighs, so used to being naked he doesn’t realize his effects. You can’t stop staring when he gets it at the perfect angle, clicking his tongue.

“Just like that,” he murmurs, viewfinder showing your pretty cunt up close, he’s almost furious to think anyone could see it like him, but his career is teetering on the brink of nothing, and if you truly were okay with it, he only sees it as a win.

You broke his dick and now he’s begging to just lick you, and split pay with you, he never thought he’d be so pathetic, but it’s no wonder, thumbing your pussy and spreading it, sighing. “Mnh!”

“So, to keep it anonymous if you decide to show this, don’t speak too personally, okay sweets?” You nod shyly, gasping as he shoves your thighs up. “Also, hold them up high, so all we’re getting is a view of your pussy.”

“Yes, sir.” You tease, but his cock starts leaking again, earning his moan.

“Don’t speak too much, to be safe, I don’t ever want you to feel like anyone would know it’s you. Speak when we’re done, though, you can absolutely moan.” You nod, so nervous, what are you doing!?

It’s as if Satoru Gojo brings something insane and wild out, because there is a thrill of your pussy on camera suddenly, and knowing he is about to worship you, potentially in front of people has your cunt drooling for him. He hits record then, angling his face so his tongue was in perfect view lapping up the arousal, exhaling now as he shoves your thighs up higher.

Perfect, you’re perfect.

“God, look at this pretty pussy,” he murmurs into the camera, parting your folds so all that syrupy arousal can pool out, he hears your sharp intake of breath, watches your red nails pressing into the plush of your thighs. His cock is already back hard, he has to stroke it and whines out as he laps you up, making you gasp.

He's slurping you then, head tilted just so the camera can see, smacking your clit gently, watching you jerk, pressing your thighs up higher and tilting the camera so it's higher, right over his head, looking at it and the reflection of your perfect cunt while he slips the tip of his tongue up. You're moaning at the sensations, twitching hips bringing your cunt more in his face.

Satoru can't stand it, how good you taste, he wondered if it was an illusion but no, you are the sweetest thing he's ever had. “You're so wet, god, take a look…” he's fingering you now, and you hear it while he watches it, glimmering from the soft ring light glowing on your perfect pussy. Making him so dumb he's just burying his face then, forgetting he's filming.

“Mnh!” You're trying not to call out his name, thighs still so high you can't see his face, to protect you from getting seen, until he adjusts it, spreading your thighs further, leaning up to look down at you under lidded eyes, chin coated in your slick. “Satoru…”

“You okay sweets?” His whisper touches you, his concern for you even during this, making sure you're okay. You nod and he exhales in relief, kissing you for a moment, knowing it's what you need, brushing your hair back, sighing as he looks down at you. “You're doing so good. Can you cum for me, baby?”

You nod again eagerly, and he’s dived back down, fingering you with two curled right in your cunt, hitting that spot that blinds you every time, his moans so filthy, guttural while he watches, angling his wrist and hitting something then, you feel so much pressure you panic, gasping, writhing under him.

“Oh my - ngh! Fuck!” You’re struggling to keep your voice a whisper, palming your mouth while you shatter.

“That’s it, right there, cum for me, lemme drink it up. Let everyone see how much you love my fucking tongue.” Pornstar Satoru was ridiculous to handle, hitting you with his fingers and the tip of his tongue on your clit, when the pressure releases, and your orgasm hits so hard you can’t help but scream, twitching as he pulls back in surprise. “Fuck, you’re squirting f’me?”

You have no clue what he means, you don’t see it as it starts pouring all over, making a mess, wet spot under you even as Satoru grabs you by the fat of your ass, licking up as much as he can. You’re a twitching, soaked little mess, your hands gripping his hair now, screams echoing in the room while he eases off you just a bit now, ready to fuck your slick, messy cunt.

He trembles as he pulls back and does one more shot, pressing a sweet kiss to your pussy before shutting off the camera, and leaning up, kissing you, so desperate, while your slick thighs rub together, and you feel the mess. He pulls up and takes a breath, flipping you then, making you gasp, handing you the camera while he kisses the backs of your shoulders, hands on your ass, spreading it wide.

“Watch it, sweetheart,” he whispers, kissing across your shoulder blades, brushing your hair to one side while you barely have the strength to press play, and that’s when you see it. “Look how perfect you are.”

Your pussy right on camera, and him eyeing it like he’s worshipping it, like you’re his fucking altar and his mouth is that offering. Your cunt starts throbbing while he works you, kissing every inch of your body as you fall more and more into the abyss of sin, of lust, of desire- of Satoru Gojo.

“You love it, don’t you baby?” His words are hot against your ear, while you watch him on the screen licking your cunt, watch your thighs tremble, all while he’s behind you, sinking his two fingers so deep in your quivering hole again. You arch your back, moaning now, it feels so good you can’t stand it, so erotic watching this video you two took, while he’s fucking you with his thick fingers.

“I do, but it’s insane… ah! Satoru…” He sighs now, taking his fingers out, pressing them into your mouth for you to suck, which you quickly obey, eyes fluttering shut, the image of his tongue fucking you reflecting in the darkness.

“Keep it for us, or share? It’s all up to you. I’ll never pressure you either way,” he’s soft then, turning your chin as he lays heavy weight over you, and you eye the phone now, hand shaking just a bit, to close it out or to share, he takes your hand, steadying it. “It’s fine to be how you are, you’re perfect, okay?”

“It’s fine to be how you are, Satoru Gojo. A… question, though.” He sighs, leaning close, while he keeps holding your hand, hovering just so.

“Mmhmm?”

“Would I be your favorite co-star?” Your teasing question makes him laugh at the ridiculous nature.

You’re the only one he can even get hard for.

“You’re the prettiest, yummiest, sweetest co star I could have,” his words are just a little broken, as he almost says more. That he hopes your date sucks with that Nanami guy, that he’s planning to show up at your work tomorrow to glare at that man, that he’s become fucking obsessed, but instead - “How could you think you’re not?”

“And we’re… still friends…” You ache for him to say - no, it’s more - but he nods, against your neck, pressing kisses against it. “Even if we fuck?”

God.

He’s dying.

“You think I wouldn’t be your friend anymore? I’m not the guy to get what he wants and go. I promise.” You nod then, smiling just a bit, and tap the share button then, surprising both of you.

“Holy fuck, I did that…” Your whisper is met with Satoru’s kisses now, as your video plays for all to see, your moans on camera mixing with the ones induced from his play, one arm wrapping your body as his cock presses insistently against your ass, hot and heavy.

“Stop me now, because I can’t think of anything but fucking your pretty pussy raw right now,” his desperate words and dilated eyes just serve to ruin you, when you arch your ass up. “Fuck, you sure?”

“I want you inside me, please,” he eagerly leans back, gripping his cock and lifting your thigh, pressing into your tight ring of muscles, almost cumming from the fucking tip. “Ah!”

“You’re so tight, relax I don’t want to hurt you, please.” Satoru whispers it as he grips your chin.

You nod, as he is slipping a little deeper from the back, the stretch burning so deliciously, you’re convulsing while the viewers are going wild over Satoru’s devoted pussy eating skills with his mysterious, faceless co-star. His silk hair brushes your cheek as he exhales heavy in your ear, whispering your name.

You eye the video, the comments, vision blurry, while he sinks his cock deeper, and he moans as he reads the comments to you, filling your cunt so full of his cock, inch by inch - and there are so many, each thrust deeper while you cling to his wrists, his arms wrapping you. He keeps reading them, even as he shoves in all the way, making you jerk and gasp.

“Perfect pussy, look at Satoru go, god she’s so wet for him, she’s cumming so much - is she squirting? Look at that, you’re a regular star, huh? F-fuck…”

“Mnh!” Your eyes roll back in your fucking skull now, lost in him, lost completely. So deeply unraveled under him you can’t remember what this is, that it’s a friend, that it was a scene, that you’re now the girl who did that, anonymous but to know it’s you on that screen with Satoru devouring you does something, fuck it does too much.

He’s murmuring more comments, and his huge cock is stretching your slick, tight heat beyond its means. “That’s it, you love it, huh? They all want to be in your place, or they want to lick you instead, but it’s me, isn’t it baby?” He shouldn’t be possessive, he tries to tell himself it over and over, but how can he not be, when he’s shoved in so deep, he feels the bulge of your tummy, groaning. “Feel me, sweetheart?”

You can’t speak, just nodding desperately, while the feed goes insane, watching your cunt squirt on Satoru’s face while he’s buried inside you, filling you to the hilt, stretching you out so good you forget to breathe. “Toru!”

He pauses at the nickname, your slurred words and pulsing cunt ending him, he could almost cum then and there and he has amazing stamina, but he has to hold back, wrapping a hand around your throat and leaning up on an elbow while you gush down his cock. Satoru kisses up your neck hungrily, eyeing your pussy on the video and then your face, your eyes almost black with pleasure.

“Only I can hit that spot, hmm?” His tip drags along your spongy spot now, and you’re twitching, nodding, so consumed as he surrounds you, breath against your neck, moans in your ear, hand squeezing your throat just so under your chin. His cock twitches as he shoves deeper, impossibly deeper, while you helplessly grip the blankets beneath you. “Answer me, like a good girl.”

“Y-yes.” Your whisper drives him insane, feral, the way your walls quiver around his cock is exquisite, that grip unreal, but more than anything it feels perfect.

“Made for this cock, aren’t you pretty?” The words fall out before he can stop them, and your eyes rolling back, drool spilling out of your mouth while your cunt is pulsing is his answer. “Perfect, fuck…”

“Mnh!” You can’t take it, his words urging you when he shoves his cock so deep, the tip bruising your cervix, making you scream as his guttural moan fills the room, his hand squeezing just enough pressure to make your orgasm blinding, white hot.

“Cumming all over me, so good, listening f’me, hmm?” You just nod weakly, gasping when he flips you to your back, lifting your thighs and shoving them wide, slapping the tip on your slick cunt and groaning. “Wanna watch me fill you up?”

You nervously nod, swallowing now, and he sees it, you’re overwhelmed, he leans down, kissing you, and you’re desperately clinging to his back, eagerly kissing him despite being damn near slack jawed. You exhale nervously, eyeing him is even more intimate, impossibly more, his plush lips still tasting like your honeyed arousal from earlier.

“If it’s too much, tell me, I want you comfortable.” It’s hard for him to speak, but he does, making sure to reassure you, kissing your forehead before he leans back.

“It’s intense, Satoru but… I want it.” He moans at that, sliding his cock back inside, sucking in a breath when you’re gripping him fucking tighter this time, slipping in slowly, inch by inch. “Ah! Satoru, so d-deep!”

“I am, huh? I can get deeper, baby.” You cry out when he shoves his cock in deep with a sharp thrust, and then pauses, eyeing that bulge in your stomach. “Look.”

“Look at… oh.” You’re heating up at the image, and he’s all about angles, he makes sure your eyes catch every bit of his slow thrusts, filling your tummy full of his enormous cock, too much to take, but your cunt is willing and eager, struggling to take his size.

“Fucking you so deep, see it? Your body is so small compared to my cock, pussy stretched too much, f-fuck… god look at you…” He’s losing it, he was trying to talk sexy to you, which comes naturally, but now he’s just obsessed with the image, thin white brows lowering over his eyes, while he slams inside you, your thighs trembling as they wrap his slutty waist. “Oh my god…”

“Satoru… ah!” He’s done, he’s fucking lost in you, in your eyes when he shoves your thighs up, gripping your face with his huge hands while he’s got you bent in half, slamming so hard you scream. “Too much!”

“I need all of you, fuck… can you take more?” His eyes are so bright blue they burn to look at, but you can’t stop yourself, nodding and cupping his face in return.

“Kiss me please.” He moans at that, slamming his lips down when he rocks his hips, cock filling you so deeply you scream into his mouth, hands slipping to his hair while he’s got his heavy weight over you.

“I can’t control it anymore, baby, if it’s too much just fucking hit me at this point,” he’s nonsensical, leaning up now, hands on the back of your thighs in a mating press, fucking you hard now, powerful strokes that take you the fuck out, cumming in moments with a few strokes, making him whimper.

That’s a sound you know he’s never made.

You may be delusional, but you’re sure you’ve only heard him whimper for you, you’ve never seen that look in his eyes on any video or stream, not when he’s staring right into your fucking soul and slamming his cock deep over and over. You’re barely able to cling to the earth, so much pleasure rushing through your body, you feel every vein and ridge of that huge cock as it fucks into you.

“Perfect, pussy is perfect, fucking knew it but god. God… fucking feel her,” he slams into you again, head falling back, giving you a view of his throat before he eyes you once more, shaking his head and slamming his cock harder. “Can she take it?”

You just nod, you’d take anything, the way it feels to be ruined by Satoru Gojo is far beyond his balls slapping your ass, his cock stretching your cunt, his hands bruising your fucking thighs, no it was more. You want to be filled by him, folded under him, you want every bit of it, losing yourself in him, in his bright blue eyes, in his filthy fucking words, in his cock slamming your cervix.

You were ruined, and you knew it.

You feel too much, far too much, when he’s leaned back, holding your thighs high and watching his cock pull out and enter, slowing and rubbing your abused clit. “F-fuck, cum one more time, I’m close… your cunt is so fucking perfect, shit… c’mon, like a good girl, there you go baby…”

It’s like that goddamn dream.

Word for word.

You cum harder than you have, when he shoves into the hilt, stuffing your slutty little hole, blinded and dizzy, hardly able to breathe, while he watches you shatter under him, so fucking beautiful he can’t take it. Your brows drawn together, that sweat making your skin glisten, your mouth open in the sluttiest O, he can hardly stand what the image does to him.

He knows it then, he’s fucking beyond destroyed, and terrified at that fact, at the power you’re oblivious to over him. He almost busts inside you, something he has never done - he doesn’t even go without condoms - the thoughts of filling your cunt full are far, far too tempting. He stops himself, cursing and holding his slick cock at the base while you’re spasming around him, back arching.

“Where do you want all this cum, sweetheart?” He manages to ask, you’re so fucked out you’re dizzy, blinking Satoru’s white hair and pretty face into view as he pulses inside you, just thickening and making you whimper.

“W-what… where… you want, I… mnh!” You’re still cumming, aftershocks rocking you, making your skin so sensitive when he eases your sore thighs down, parting them and pulling out finally, stroking himself as you catch your breath, watching him spurt thick white ropes all over your cunt. “Oh! Oh…”

“Fuck, fuck… god… oh my…” He’s moaning as he’s desperately jerking his slick cock, so much cum it seems impossible, since he just busted so much, and you watch him, enthralled as the hot sticky sperm is coating your cunt. “God, look at it, fucking look at us baby.”

He’s too much, he’s too much.

You thought him eating you out fucked you up mentally, what is he, his insane ass eyes bright as he trembles, strong muscles bunching and tensing, a work of fucking art pouring his cum on you. You’re stuck, at a loss for words, mouth opening and closing, brain not even functional as you look up at this man, knowing this isn’t just sex, it fucking couldn’t be.

It can’t be like this with someone.

You almost spill every feeling then and there, lost in him, in his desperation when he rests his head on yours, moaning against your lips, tip brushing your engorged clit and making you whine out. “God, your pussy is too perfect, it’s… you’re too perfect, feel too good, look too good…”

“Satoru, are you okay?” You whisper softly, he’s slurring his words, almost hard to understand in their hushed whispers in between his pants.

He can’t even answer, pulling back and looking at your pretty cunt, all abused from his cock and puffy, covered in his white ropes. “Can I have a picture? Please, just for me.”

“Y-you want one?” He laughs softly, breathless, nodding, and you heat up at it, looking down shyly. 

“Only you can be adorable with your pussy beat up and coated in cum, huh?”

“Oh god!” He can’t take it, how cute you are, the affection eating at him, as he takes a deep breath, leaning back. “Just one.”

“Fuck…” He takes the phone, eyeing the amount of comments and tips while your breasts heave, trying to catch your breath, sticky cum dripping across your folds when you shift your hips.

“What is it?” You ask softly, he shows you the number, and your eyes nearly bulge out. “Holy fuck!?”

“This is good even for me, shit. Pussy is made for porn.” You’re blushing harder, biting your lower lip when he angles the camera, taking several photos and exhaling at how pretty it looks. “God, look at you.”

“Are you talking to me or my pussy?” He grins then, so boyish and charming it’s as if he wasn’t just fucking you into a mating press and filming your cunt. “Also I said one!”

“Sorry. I’ll make it up.” He’s kissing your thighs then, lapping some of his own cum off your slit, you gasp at the sensation, his tongue on your sore, overstimulated pussy now. Your hands entangle in his hair as he groans. “Fucking taste us.”

“Satoru you’re in-insane and- mnh! Fuck!” You’re shaking when he laps more off of you, desperately lapping at every inch of your cunt now. “Satoru!”

“Gotta clean my pretty costar up, she’s only my costar you know, only one I’ve ever-” He pauses, stopping himself, when you eye him, breasts still gently moving up and down as you eye him.

“Only one you’ve… ngh! Satoru!”

“Taste us.” He’s lapped more of his cum and yours, murmuring for you to open, which you eagerly do, letting him spit his cum and yours in your throat. “Swallow, there you go, see it’s perfect, huh?”

You’re lost then, in the filthy string of words, when he’s back down cleaning you up with a tongue that’s lethal in its precision, rocking his cock on the bed, hard for the third time with you as he moans desperately against you. He’s latched onto your clit, sucking, while you can’t stop cumming, pushed past overstimulation, but not once do you tell him to stop.

You want it.

You need it.

In tears from how much you’ve cum, desperate for more, swapping his cum and yours mixing, against your tongues as he talks you through it, as you lose yourself, Jenna told you not to, she told you not to forget. You are trying to keep it separated, but how the fuck can you?

It felt worth losing yourself, for him, under him, him inside you - around you - taking over everything, while he’s back inside you, his lips murmuring desperate, dirty words into your sweet mouth. When you’re so fucked out you actually pass out blissfully in his arms, you can’t even remember the girl you were a few weeks ago, waking up just to be filled by him again from behind.

Being in his arms, you hope it’ll counteract the pain when he moves on, when he’s kissing you while fucking you from the back, sweet little nothings against your lips filling the room along with the squelching of his cock filling your cunt again. Every inch of your body kissed by him, licked by him, head to your fucking toes, shifting you to some other dimension as you drink each other in, exhausted and desperate.

You’ll think about that pain later, for now it’s all pleasure, aside from the ache in your heart for more, endlessly more.

The love on this story is so sweet, it's FAR from over. Please be patient as these are long chaps and I have other projects, if you're not on the tags you can subscribe to me on ao3 or turn on notifs <3 Can't wait to hear your thoughts

Taglist 1 - @rjreins @juicu @kalulakunundrum @gojoswaterbottle @aldebrana @simp-plague @wedojustbevibin @lucciferr0 @officialholyagua @privthemis @coffee-and-geto @homesickes @msniks @emi311 @mai-505 @gojoslovelylover @ren-ren23 @yihona-san06 @emochosoluvr @sylvermoon @bunheadusa @karvokr @starmapz @queenexplosonmurderr @musiclover2119 @saitamaswifey @reagan707 @midorissi @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @itsinherited @maisiefrancesca @gyarubunny @theonlyhonoredone @chosslut @simperisksksk @xlilycoco @howlsdarling @femaholicc @maymaymarch @miseryyouth-99 @swoozleee @zeunys @cryingdevil @leafynightmares @princess-bblgm @gojosconsort @insomnicshello @joonunivrs @myahfig4 @silviscosplay

[cressidagrey]

White Horse - Chapter 22: June 2024 - Part 3

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Isabelle Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen is a World Champion. Isabelle Leclerc is invisible.

She watched her family give up everything for Charles’ career—Arthur’s karting, their father’s savings, even her childhood horse. She understood. She never asked for more.

But Max does. He notices the things no one else does, listens when no one else will, and puts her first in ways she never imagined. With him, she isn’t an afterthought—she’s a choice. And for the first time, she realizes she doesn’t have to be invisible.

Warnings and Notes: 

we have now moved on from Charles bashing to bashing his whole family, Discussions of toxic past relationships, talk about loosing a childhood pet, toxic families, mention of the loss of a parent. Apparently I am once again messing up my chapter numbering on Tumblr. 21 is correct according to AO3 and Wattpad though. No, you didn't miss anything, I promise.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Text Messages: Gianpiero Lambiase & Max Verstappen

GP: Heard about the post-race press. Are you and Belle okay?

Max: I’m fine. Belle’s shaken. Tired. But she’s okay. (ish.)

GP: “Okay-ish” isn’t exactly reassuring, mate.

Max: She’s stronger than she thinks. But it hit her hard. Even after everything… she still hoped they’d see her.

GP: That’s the cruel part. Hope.

Max: Yeah.

GP: Is she at home? You with her?

Max: I am. 

Max: Doesn’t feel like enough.

GP: It’s enough. You’re there. You see her. That’s already more than most have ever done.

Max: She deserves better than this.

GP: She’s got it now. She’s got you.

GP: (and the cats.)

Max: True. Jimmy thinks he’s her bodyguard.

GP: Smart cat.

GP: Tell her we’re all thinking about her, yeah?

Max: I will. Thanks, GP. For checking in.

GP: Always. She’s part of the team now. Whether she likes it or not.

***

The breakfast table was too quiet.

A spread of croissants, jam, fresh fruit, and espresso cups sat untouched in the center of the table—untouched because no one could eat. Lorenzo’s revelation from the day before hung in the air like a thundercloud.

Isabelle had quit her job.

 Months ago.

 Without telling a single one of them.

Charles still hadn’t wrapped his head around it. Isabelle had always loved her work. She breathed design. She stayed up late sketching, doodling floor plans on napkins, whispering ideas into voice memos when she thought no one was listening.

And then one day… she just walked away from it. From them.

Arthur sat with his head in his hands, looking half-murdered by guilt. Pascale was pale and tight-lipped, stirring her tea without drinking it.

“I don’t understand,” Pascale whispered. “How could she just… leave her job? She worked so hard for it.”

“She didn’t just leave,” Lorenzo said, pacing. “She ghosted the entire office. Packed her things in one night. Sent a polite goodbye email. Nothing else.”

“And no one noticed?” Arthur asked, stunned.

“No one bothered to notice,” Charles muttered.

Pascale looked toward Alexandra. “Did you know anything?”

Alexandra hesitated, then straightened a little. “She’s safe.”

That got everyone’s attention.

Charles’s head snapped toward her. “What?”

“I texted Emilie,” Alexandra said, calm but firm. “Isabelle’s best friend. She replied this morning. Said Isabelle is okay.”

A collective breath was held—and slowly released.

“Why didn’t you say that sooner?” Pascale asked, eyes wide.

“Because you were all too busy spiraling,” Alexandra said. “And because Emilie was clear: Isabelle doesn’t want to talk to any of you right now.”

Charles swallowed hard.

“She’s mad,” he said. “Of course she’s mad.”

“She’s not mad,” Alexandra said. “She’s hurt. She’s done. There’s a difference.”

Lorenzo closed his eyes. Arthur muttered something under his breath.

Then Alexandra added, almost absently, “She’s not alone. Emilie said her boyfriend likes taking care of her.”

A beat of stunned silence.

“Oh my god,” Arthur muttered. “She has a sugar daddy.”

Charlotte choked on her orange juice.

Pascale actually dropped her spoon.

“Arthur!” Alexandra hissed, scandalized.

Arthur looked wildly between them. “Think about it! Moved out. Quit her job. No one knows where she is. Isabelle’s always been quiet, not mysterious. What if she—”

“No. No,” Charles said quickly, shaking his head like that would erase the words from the room. “She wouldn’t. Isabelle is not like that.”

“People change when they feel abandoned,” Arthur muttered, clearly spiraling now. “This is how Netflix documentaries start.”

“I will kill whoever that man is,” Charles muttered, eyes narrowing like he was already imagining chasing someone through the Monaco harbor with a champagne bottle.

“I’m just saying,” Arthur hissed, “stranger things have happened! And let’s not pretend we’re not a family of unresolved emotional issues. We all have daddy issues!”

A beat of stunned silence.

Then Pascale, horror dawning on her face, said, “Excuse me?!”

Arthur looked up, mid-sip of juice. “What?”

Pascale blinked, stunned. “Since when?!”

Arthur just stared at her. “I mean, come on. Dad died when we were kids, Charles is out here trying to win his approval from the afterlife, I started karting again like I have something to prove, and Isabelle— Isabelle moved in with a mysterious man and quit her job because he "likes taking care of her!"

“Oh my God,” Pascale said faintly, sinking into her chair.

“Okay, this is going off the rails,” Alexandra groaned.

Lorenzo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Arthur, this is not about your unresolved need for paternal validation.”

Arthur shrugged helplessly. “I was just trying to explain that maybe Isabelle was looking for emotional stability and someone gave it to her. And maybe he also had a good skincare routine and a yacht. I don’t know.”

“She moved in with her boyfriend,” Lorenzo said sharply. “Not a sugar daddy. Her boyfriend. That’s what her old neighbor said. She left the firm. Left her apartment. But she didn’t run away. She just stopped waiting to be seen.”

Arthur groaned, slumping in his seat. “We didn’t even know she had a boyfriend.”

“Because she didn’t tell us,” Charles said bitterly. “Because she stopped expecting us to care.”

“Or because she knew you were going to freak out.” Charlotte murmured.

Charles raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

Charlotte looked up, startled. “What?”

“You said that like you know something.”

Charlotte hesitated. “I don’t know anything.”

“Charlotte,” Lorenzo warned.

She shifted. “It’s just—she’s always been around racing. She used to hang around the paddock all the time. If she was seeing someone, I wouldn’t be shocked if it was someone from the grid.”

Silence.

Then Arthur: “Wait. You’re saying she could be dating someone we know?”

Charlotte winced. “I said maybe. Don’t start spiraling.”

“I’M ALREADY SPIRALING,” Charles announced.

Alexandra sighed, sipping her coffee. “And now we’ve entered the panic phase.”

Arthur leaned back, muttering, “If it’s Fernando I swear to God—”

Pascale clapped her hands together. “Enough.”

But Charles barely heard her.

Because if Belle was dating someone from the paddock…

Then there were nineteen men it could be, currently on the grid.

And not one of them had said a word.

***

Group Chat: GRID 2024 

Members: Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz Jr., Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Logan Sergeant, Daniel Ricciardo, Nico Hülkenberg, Lance Stroll, Fernando Alonso, Sergio Pérez, Esteban Ocon, Zhou Guanyu, Logan Sargeant, Pierre Gasly, Yuki Tsunoda, and Valtteri Bottas

Charles: SOMEONE TELL ME

 Who is dating my sister??

Charles: IS IT FERNANDO?? Are you her sugar daddy?? Just tell me. I need answers.

Fernando: Pardon?

Lewis: Oh we’re doing this.

George: Charles, breathe.

Oscar: You’re spiraling. Please stop.

Pierre: Wait WHAT??

Yuki: I feel like I’ve walked into the last five minutes of a telenovela

Fernando: Charles. I’m flattered. But no.

Charles: OK FINE. MAX. Charles:  IS SHE DATING JOS?!

Logan: …bro

George: I need to leave this chat forever

Lando: oh my god

Max: What. Did. You. Just. Say.

Charles: I don’t know, okay?? Everyone’s being weird. She’s gone, she moved, she quit her job, no one’s telling me anything and YOU’RE ALL BEING WEIRD.

Max: Don’t you ever say something like that again.

Max: Not as a joke. Not out of panic. Not ever.

Max: Belle is your sister, Charles. She deserved your attention, your support, your respect—and she didn’t get any of it. Max: And now you want to cover up your guilt by making a disgusting joke like that?

George: Whoa.

Charles: It’s not a joke! She smiled at him during Monaco!

Max: You forgot her birthday. You forgot her entire life outside of your world. And now you’re so desperate to catch up you’re throwing shit against the wall like it doesn’t have consequences?

Oscar: He’s right. That was low, man.

Lando: Way out of line.

Max:  You’re panicking and flinging names around like this is a soap opera, and you’re forgetting that this isn’t about you.

Carlos: He’s right.

Max: Belle isn’t your property. She doesn’t owe you updates of her life. And the fact that your first instinct is to accuse my father of something that insane? That tells me everything I need to know about where your priorities are.

Max: You’re not trying to protect her. You’re trying to control the fallout of your own guilt.

Alex: Oof.

Oscar: He’s not wrong.

Lando: I mean, he’s definitely not wrong.

Daniel: That was… surgical.

Max: You forgot her birthday. You didn’t realise she moved or that she quit her job. And now that it’s all blowing up in your face, you’re treating your sister like a scandal to manage instead of a woman who deserves better than you’ve given her for years.

Charles: Max…

Max Verstappen: Don’t. You had every chance to show up. And you didn’t.

Oscar: …Well. That was the cleanest emotional takedown I’ve ever witnessed.

Pierre: I’m afraid to even type right now.

Alex: Respectfully, that needed to be said.

Lewis: Sometimes silence is the most respectful response. And sometimes it’s watching Max drop a nuke and sipping your tea.

Charles: … I’m sorry.

Max: Don’t say sorry to me. Say it to her.

Daniel: And maybe do it without accusing her of having a sugar daddy next time.

Fernando: Sincerely never thought I’d be defending Jos Verstappen’s honor in a group chat. And yet. Here we are.

Pierre: Did we all just witness character development in real time?

Oscar:  No, we witnessed Max finally snap.

Carlos: Honestly? Fair.

Max: Now if you’ll excuse me, my wife wants to go see her horse. 

***

Group Chat: HELP ME

 (Members: Daniel Ricciardo, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Lewis Hamilton, Carlos Sainz Jr., George Russell, Alex Albon, Nico Hulkenberg, Nico Rosberg, Sebastian Vettel, Mark Webber, David Coulthard, Sergio Pérez, Fernando Alonso, Kimi Räikkönen, Zhou Guanyu, Logan Sergeant, Esteban Ocon, Lance Stroll and Valtteri Bottas)

Oscar: (sends screenshots) Are we gonna talk about that??

Lando: I don’t think I’ll ever emotionally recover.

George: That wasn’t an argument. That was Max opening a precision-cut emotional autopsy on Charles.

Daniel: Surgical strike. Zero survivors.

Carlos: I think I stopped breathing somewhere between “not your property” and “scandal to manage.”

Alex: And he still managed to slip in “my wife” at the end like it was casual.

Lewis: Subtle as a sledgehammer. Iconic.

Sebastian: Imagine standing that close to the truth and just completely going off the deep end. JOS VERSTAPPEN?!?!

David: Charles is lucky we’re not recording this for Drive to Survive. This would be season finale material.

Fernando: Still recovering from the fact that I had to defend Jos Verstappen’s honor today. Truly humbling times.

Mark: Also Max casually confirming "wife" like we didn’t hear that bomb drop.

Lando: The whole chat: staring at “my wife” like: [INSERT SHOCKED PIKACHU MEME]

Logan: Also Max: anyway gtg horseback riding with Belle bye

George: Meanwhile we’re left here emotionally blinking like stunned goldfish.

Zhou: Respectfully? That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in a group chat.

Logan: He read Charles’ whole life like it was a menu.

Esteban: No crumbs left. Truly an artist.

Lewis: I hope Belle gives Max a damn medal.

Carlos: It’s what he deserves.

Lando Norris: At this point Max could straight up declare war on Monaco and all of us would follow him.

Nico H.: Only if Belle asks nicely though.

Fernando: Honestly, after that? She deserves her own Grand Prix.

Sebastian: Belle Verstappen GP. Street circuit. Emotional trauma bonus points.

David: Winner gets emotional literacy and a free hug.

Lando: Charles gets last place. Obv.

Oscar: Someone check on Charles, though. Like... at a distance. With caution.

George: Give him a juice box and a reflective corner.

Lewis: He needs to sit with this one. You’re up, Seb.

Sebastian: I hate you.

Carlos: And next time?  Maybe start by actually listening to Belle. and not accuse her of having a sugar daddy.

Oscar: Can we also talk about how Charles accused Fernando of being Belle’s sugar daddy?!?

Lando: No because I actually SCREAMED when I read it Out loud. In a public place.

George: Charles really said “if the unhinged shoe fits…”

Lewis: Fernando being asked if he’s the sugar daddy of a 25-year-old woman live in a chat is peak 2024.

Daniel: The best part is Fernando didn’t even deny it immediately. He said “pardon” like a man trying to calculate if this was a compliment or an insult.

Fernando: I was genuinely weighing my options.

Logan: He 100% thought about it for a second Did the math in his head Age difference analysis

Carlos: He pulled out a mental calculator before answering.

Alex: Plot twist: he was flattered.

Fernando: I am flattered.

Logan: ARE YOU NOT TOO OLD FOR THIS SIR

Fernando: Age is just a number. Experience is a blessing.

David: Shut up you're scaring the children

Daniel: I'm crying. This man is two bad decisions away from opening a luxury wine bar in Marbella.

Zhou: Would 100% attend Fernando’s shady rich sugar daddy wine parties tbh.

George: You know somewhere there's an alternate universe where Fernando is soft-launching Belle on Instagram with a blurry wine glass and a cryptic caption.

Sebastian: Don’t manifest that energy.

Lewis: The timeline barely survived Charles forgetting her birthday We are NOT surviving "Fernando Alonso soft launches Belle Verstappen."

Oscar: Good morning to everyone except Charles for inventing this nightmare.

Carlos: He should be banned from texting before noon.

Daniel: Imagine Belle reading that conversation The secondhand embarrassment would kill her instantly

Lando: Max would bury Charles under the Red Bull Energy Station if Belle found out

Fernando: That’s why I stayed calm. For everyone’s safety.

David: You’re a better man than I am.

George: Let’s be honest Max’s entire speech wasn’t just a takedown It was a warning.

Lewis: And Charles still doesn’t realize how close he was to emotional decapitation.

Daniel: Fernando being accidentally involved will forever be my Roman Empire

Lando: Same. Sugar Daddy Alonso 2024 Never Forget.

Kimi: I don’t care.

Fernando: Good. One sane man among us.

Mark: Honestly Kimi deserves a medal for surviving this chat with brain cells intact.

Lando: Meanwhile I’m Googling “how to recover from emotional whiplash" and "can you sue your friend for public embarrassment.”

Oscar: Suing Charles for pain and suffering. Class action.

Lewis: Count me in.

Daniel: Put me down for emotional damages and lost productivity.

Carlos: And mental anguish from hearing "Jos" and "sugar daddy" in the same sentence.

George Russell: I’m still trying to bleach my brain from that.

Sebastian Vettel: The worst part is… We know it’s only going to get worse.

Valtteri: Spain is going to be the emotional equivalent of a demolition derby and I'm here for it…

Oscar: Prayers up for Charles. He’s about to get hit with the reality sledgehammer.

***

The air smelled like sun-warmed hay and old wood and something softer — something Max couldn’t name but recognized instantly as peace.

The stables weren’t far from the city — a quiet, tucked-away stretch of land up in the hills — but it might as well have been another world compared to the chaos vibrating through the paddock, the media, the group chats.

Belle was already a few steps ahead of him, moving with easy, instinctive confidence down the center aisle. Her hair was pulled back in a loose braid, and she wore one of his oversized hoodies over her jeans, the sleeves pushed up to her elbows. Even in battered sneakers, even in dusty sunlight, she looked luminous.

This, Max thought, is who she really is.

Not the invisible sister standing silently in the Ferrari garage.

 Not the afterthought.

 Not the forgotten one.

Here, among the horses and the golden dust motes, Belle was someone else entirely. Someone free.

He watched as she reached Fleur’s stall — the mare with the soft eyes and white coat — and the change in her was immediate. Belle’s whole body softened. Her voice dropped into something low and sweet, barely a whisper, as she murmured to the horse in French, offering a gentle hand.

Fleur pressed her nose into Belle’s palm like she had been waiting for her all day.

Max stayed back, leaning against a beam, just… watching.

Belle ran her fingers through the mare’s mane, smiling quietly when Fleur nosed into her ribs for a treat. She laughed, soft and breathless, pulling a carrot from her pocket like she’d always known it would be needed.

Max felt something hot coil under his ribs.

Not anger. Not yet.

Something heavier.

Because standing there, watching her, Max didn’t understand — and probably never would — how the people who were supposed to love her first and fiercest could have ever made her feel like this side of her wasn’t worth seeing.

How did you miss this?

 How did you miss her?

How could you look at Belle — at her patience, her stubbornness, her gentleness — and think she was someone it was okay to forget?

Max didn't know how Charles or Pascale or Arthur or even Lorenzo could live with themselves.

She had been right there, waving from the garage, smiling through being overlooked, standing quietly beside them her whole life — and they’d blinked, and she was gone.

He didn’t know if they'd ever get her back, not in the way they thought they were entitled to.

 And maybe they didn’t deserve to.

Max shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling the steady beat of his own pulse against his knuckles. He wasn’t angry on his own behalf — he was angry for her. For every memory she had where she learned she needed to be small to survive. For every year she thought invisibility was safer than asking for more.

But here — here, she didn’t shrink herself.

Here, she was all soft light and warm hands and quiet magic.

He watched as Belle rested her forehead against Fleur’s, closing her eyes. Whispering something Max couldn’t hear.

He didn’t move.

He would wait forever if it meant she never had to be small again.

When she finally turned toward him, cheeks flushed, hair tangled in the breeze, Max just smiled — slow and sure — and opened his arms without a word.

Belle crossed the space between them like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And when she folded herself against his chest, Max pressed his mouth to the top of her head and thought, fiercely, I will never let you feel invisible again.

Not here. Not with him.

Never.

***

Belle sat curled into the armchair, hands knotted in the hem of her sweater. Her phone buzzed on the low table beside her — again — and she flinched without meaning to.

She didn’t pick it up. She hadn’t read any of them. Not a single message.

Across from her, Simone sat, notebook closed, pen resting untouched on the armrest. She didn’t need notes yet. She was just watching — waiting for Belle to breathe first.

"You don’t have to," Simone said finally, nodding toward the phone. "We can leave it buzzing all session if you want. This is your hour."

Belle looked down at her hands.

"I don’t know what they want," she said, voice thin. "I don’t know if I want to know."

"That's a choice," Simone said simply. "It’s your choice."

Belle twisted the hem tighter. "They keep calling. Texting. DMing. It’s like... once Charles realized, they all remembered I exist."

"That realization isn’t yours to carry," Simone said. "You didn’t make yourself invisible. They chose not to see you."

“You haven’t answered,” Simone asked, her voice even…non-judgemental.

Belle shook her head, pressing the rim of the mug tighter against her palms.

“I don’t know if I want to,” Belle whispered.

Simone leaned forward slightly. “You’re allowed to make that choice, Belle. Access to your life — your heart — isn’t something anyone is automatically entitled to. Not even family.”

Belle blinked hard.

“It feels… wrong,” she admitted. “Like I’m being cruel. But also like… maybe it’s finally protecting myself.”

Simone nodded. “Both can be true.”

They sat with that for a moment, letting the air between them settle.

"I feel like if I open one message, I’ll lose the ground I gained," she whispered. "Like they'll pull me back in before I even realize it."

Simone nodded slowly. "That fear is real. It’s valid. But remember — reading a message doesn’t obligate you to answer. They don’t get to set the terms anymore. You do."

Belle sat with that for a long moment, staring at the phone like it was a bomb she didn't know how to disarm.

"You can read what they have to say," Simone continued gently, "and then decide how much access you want to give them. How much of yourself you want to offer back. Or none at all.  But the decision has to come from a place of power — not guilt."

Belle swallowed hard, something inside her cracking open.

"I don’t want to live my life shrinking," she said, so quietly it barely made it into the room.

"You don’t have to," Simone said simply. "You’re allowed to grow bigger than the spaces they built for you."

Belle wiped under her eyes, feeling the tears spill anyway.

"I’m pregnant," she said, almost impulsively, almost defensively — like the words had been trying to claw their way out of her for days.

Simone didn’t react, didn’t widen her eyes or gasp or rush forward.

She just smiled, slow and warm.

"Congratulations," Simone said.

Belle let out a shaky laugh, covering her face for a moment.

"I haven’t told most people yet," she admitted. "It’s... still just mine and Max’s, mostly. But I—"

She broke off, chest tight.

"I don’t want my baby to feel the way I felt," Belle whispered. "Invisible. Like they have to earn love. Like being quiet or not causing trouble makes them easier to keep around."

Simone nodded slowly. "You don’t want them to feel like they have to disappear to be safe."

Belle’s throat closed. That was it. That was everything.

"I want them to know," Belle said, tears slipping freely now. "Every second. That they matter. That they are wanted."

"You can give them that," Simone said gently. "Because you know what it feels like to need it."

Belle hugged her knees tighter to her chest, breathing in slow, ragged pulls.

"I don't know if I can be enough," she whispered.

"You already are," Simone said simply. "You're enough because you see them. The way you should have been seen."

Belle wiped her face roughly with her sleeve, heart pounding painfully against her ribs.

Simone leaned in just a little, voice steady.

"You get to break the cycle," she said. "Not by being perfect. Not by fixing everything. But by loving without conditions."

Belle stared down at her belly, still barely showing under the oversized sweater. A secret, soft and growing.

Not alone anymore.

Not invisible.

Not shrinking to fit someone else's version of worth.

She exhaled shakily.

"I think," Belle said slowly, "I’ll read the messages. Because it’s my choice now."

Simone smiled. "Exactly."

Belle sat back in the chair, letting the silence settle.

For the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel heavy.

It felt like freedom.

***

The cats were asleep — a warm, purring pile on the foot of the bed — and the only sound in the room was the hum of the city beyond the windows and the soft rustle of Max shifting beside her.

Belle sat curled up in the corner of the bed, Max’s hoodie swallowing her whole, the phone clutched in both hands.

She hadn’t wanted to look. Not at the missed calls. Not at the voicemails. Not at the dozens of unread messages blinking like warning lights across every app she had.

But now… Now she read them.

One by one.

Apologies. Explanations. Pleading.

Arthur. Lorenzo. Charles.

And Maman. Always Maman.

Maman:Ma chérie… I didn’t realise. I thought I messaged you, but I sent it to Charles by mistake. That’s not an excuse. You deserved more. Always. Please let me come see you. I miss you.

Belle stared at the words, blinking back the slow, stunned weight building behind her eyes.

Because if her mother had texted Charles that morning — if she had thought about Belle enough to even try — then Charles would have known.

He would have remembered.

There wouldn’t have been blank stares in the Ferrari garage.

 There wouldn’t have been celebrations swirling around her while she stood still, invisible.

There would have been a smile.

 A hug.

 A word.

Anything.

But there hadn’t been.

Because her mother hadn’t texted.

Not her.

And not Charles.

She hadn’t thought about her at all.

Belle felt the first tear slip free before she could stop it. Then another. And another.

Her hands shook as she lowered the phone to her lap.

She pressed her knuckles against her mouth, willing herself to breathe, to hold it together — but the ache was too deep. Too old. It cracked open the quiet places she thought she had stitched shut months ago.

The mattress dipped beside her, and Max’s arms were around her before she could say a word.

No questions. No demands. Just solid, unwavering Max, pulling her into his chest, pressing his chin to the crown of her head, wrapping her up like he could protect her from everything the world had failed to.

Belle buried her face in his hoodie and cried — deep, broken, shuddering sobs that shook her ribs and soaked the cotton between them.

Max held her through all of it. Rocked her gently like she was something precious. Whispered soft, fierce things into her hair — I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere. I love you.

When the tears finally slowed — when Belle could breathe without gasping — she shifted just enough to look up at him.

“She lied to me,” Belle whispered, voice barely above a breath.

Max tensed, not pulling away, but going still — like a storm gathering quietly over open water.

Belle twisted the fabric of his hoodie between her fingers, needing something to hold onto. “My mother. In her messages. She said… she said she thought she had texted me on my birthday. That she checked and realized she sent it to Charles instead.”

Max didn’t say anything.

 Not yet.

He just waited.

“But if she had really texted Charles,” Belle said, blinking hard, “then he would have remembered. Wouldn’t he?”

Max’s jaw tightened against her forehead.

“He would have realized when he saw me. He would have known it was my day.”

 Belle swallowed thickly. “He would have said something. Anything.”

She felt Max’s hand, slow and careful, run up her spine — like he was grounding himself as much as her.

“They didn’t forget by accident, Max,” she whispered, the crack in her voice slicing the room in half. “They just… didn’t think about me at all. And now she’s lying to make herself feel better. Or maybe to make me not be angry anymore.”

There was a long, vibrating pause.

When Max finally spoke, his voice was low. Dangerous.

“She lied to you." Not angry for himself. Angry for her.

“She lied to your face to protect her own feelings,” he said, tightening his grip around her protectively. “And she didn’t even think about what it would do to you.”

Belle didn’t trust herself to speak.

“She didn’t check,” Max said, every word precise and sharp. “She didn’t text you. She forgot you. And now she wants you to comfort her guilt so she doesn’t have to sit with the truth.”

Belle closed her eyes, tucking herself deeper into his chest.

Max’s voice dropped even lower. Colder. Deadlier.

“They don’t deserve to be the ones to tell you how much you matter, Belle,” he said. “Not when they couldn’t even see you standing right in front of them.”

Belle felt herself break apart a little more — not because of the anger in his voice, but because of the fierce, unyielding love underneath it.

Max pulled back just enough to tip her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes.

“They can lie to themselves all they want,” he said, voice rough. “But you’re not invisible anymore. You never were. You are the most extraordinary thing I’ve ever seen.”

Belle tried to smile but it broke halfway through, another tear slipping free.

Max kissed her — not rushed, not desperate — but slow and sure and reverent.

“I see you,” he murmured against her mouth. “I will always see you.”

Belle clutched his hoodie tighter, feeling the words stitch into the broken places inside her chest.

And when she whispered, “Thank you,” it was the kind of thank you that carried a lifetime of hope she hadn’t known how to say before now.

Max brushed her forehead with his lips, arms still wrapped firmly around her.

***

The apartment was dark except for the soft glow of the city outside the windows, and the faint golden light spilling from the kitchen where Max was making tea.

The cats were already asleep, draped dramatically across the couch like tiny emperors, and Belle sat curled up at the dining table, phone in hand.

Her thumb hovered over the Instagram app for a long time.

She hadn’t posted anything in weeks. Maybe longer. Not since before everything cracked open — before her birthday…

It felt strange, almost dangerous, to think about letting the world see even a piece of her life again. To stop living like she needed to apologize for taking up space.

But she was tired. 

She was tired of pretending her life was something to be ashamed of.

She was tired of being invisible.

 Of hiding her joy like it was a crime.

She tapped into her camera roll.

The photo was simple. Max had taken it — taken earlier that afternoon, in the warm haze of the stables. Fleur was grazing and Belle’s arm was tucked around her neck, leaning against the warm white fur.

It wasn’t a professional shot.

 It wasn’t curated.

 It was real.

And for once, Belle didn’t care about anything else.

She clicked ‘post’ before she could talk herself out of it.

Caption:Some things were always meant to find their way back to you.

She stared at it for a moment, heart hammering — not with fear, but with something quieter. Something steadier.

Not everyone would understand.

Most wouldn’t even know what it meant.

But the people who mattered — the ones who knew her, who loved her — they would understand exactly what she was saying.

Max’s voice floated from the kitchen, casual and warm. “You want mint or chamomile?”

Belle smiled softly to herself.

“Mint,” she called back, slipping her phone onto the table, feeling lighter than she had in months.

No more hiding.

No more shrinking.

Her life was hers now.

 And she was finally — finally — ready to live it.

***

Instagram Post: @/isabelleleclerc

Comments:

@/charles_leclerc: …From where did you get a horse??

@/arthur_leclerc: ??? SINCE WHEN DO YOU HAVE A HORSE AGAIN???

@/lorenzo_leclerc: Since when are you even riding again??

@/charles_leclerc: Isabelle. Please answer your phone.

@/arthur_leclerc: PLEASE RESPOND.

@/randomfan72: THE WAY SHE JUST DROPPED THIS WITHOUT CONTEXT???

@/f1updates: Isabelle disappearing for a week and then coming back with a horse is the most iconic thing I’ve seen in a while.

@/f1fanpage: Okay, but WHO GAVE HER A HORSE???

@/monacoroyalty: Isabelle casually revealing that she has a whole horse like it’s a new handbag is sending me.

@/gridgossip: He/she’s gorgeous! What’s their name? ↪ @/isabelleleclerc: Fleur ❤️ She’s a 7 year old Selle Francais mare. 

@/emilie_abadie: God, Belle, she looks just like Blanche…

↪ @/isabelleleclerc: Like Mother, like Daughter ❤️

@/coralie.g: She looks like your childhood horse… 

↪ @/isabelleleclerc: Because she’s her last foal 😭 

@/horselover99: Omg did you always plan to start riding again? 🥹 ↪ @/isabelleleclerc: I never stopped wanting to. Just couldn’t afford to for a long time.

@/victorialaps: This is so random but… how did you even find her? ↪ @/isabelleleclerc: I didn’t. She was a gift. Best surprise ever.

@/f1updates: WAIT WAIT WAIT.

@/f1theories: GIFT?? FROM WHO??

***

The tea had just finished steeping when Max’s phone buzzed once. Then again. And again.

He frowned, setting down the mugs. It wasn’t like his phone to light up at midnight unless something dramatic had happened — and judging by the flood of notifications, the world had just decided to catch fire.

But when he flipped it over, his chest tightened in a very different way.

It wasn’t chaos. It wasn’t panic.

It was Belle.

Her name. Her Instagram. A new post.

Max opened it instantly, barely breathing.

The photo was simple, quiet — Fleur leaning into Belle’s hand, golden light painting everything soft around them.

But it wasn’t the picture that hit him hardest.

It was the caption.

some things are always meant to come back to you.

Max stared at the screen, heart thudding slow and heavy in his chest.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t a declaration.

It was a quiet, stubborn reclaiming of everything Belle had once been taught to hide — her dreams, her peace, her self.

And she hadn’t asked permission.

She hadn't needed anyone’s blessing.

She had simply... posted it.

Without apology.

 Without explanation.

Max set the phone down, grabbed both mugs carefully, and crossed the living room to where Belle sat curled up at the table, her knees tucked under her, the soft edges of exhaustion lingering around her eyes.

She looked up when she heard him, tentative, like part of her was still braced for criticism she didn’t deserve.

Max didn’t say a word.

He placed the tea down. Then he crouched in front of her, sliding his hands over her knees, resting his forehead gently against hers.

No words. Just this.

Just I'm proud of you.

Belle let out a soft, shaky breath, her hand sliding into his hair, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping her tethered — because sometimes, he was.

“You saw it?” she whispered.

Max smiled against her skin.

“I saw everything,” he murmured. “And I see you, liefde. Always.”

Belle’s breath hitched.

She closed her eyes and let herself believe it — let herself soak in the truth of it without second-guessing.

She wasn’t invisible here.

She was home.

And Max — Max was exactly where he had always promised he would be:

Right here. Always. With her.

***

Leclerc Family Group Chat

(Members: Arthur, Isabelle, Charles, Lorenzo and Pascale)

Arthur: Shared Isabelle’s Instagram post

Arthur: …So. Uh.

Arthur: When were you guys planning on telling me that Isabelle suddenly has a HORSE?

Charles: SHE HAS A WHAT.

Lorenzo: Excuse me??

Arthur: A horse, Lorenzo. A living, breathing, four-legged animal. You know. Like the one that was sold when she was a teenager.

Charles: No. No way. That’s not possible.

Arthur: Look at the photo. LOOK AT IT.

Charles: It looks exactly like Blanche.

Lorenzo: That’s not possible.

Arthur: AND YET.

Lorenzo: Okay. Okay. Let’s just—think about this logically.

Arthur: Sure. Logically. Isabelle now has a horse that looks IDENTICAL to the one that was sold to pay for Charles' karting?!?!

Arthur: LOGICALLY, how does that make any sense?!

Charles: Who gave her a horse?

Arthur: WHO KNEW SHE STILL WANTED ONE???

Lorenzo: …Clearly, not us.

Pascale: …We should have known.

Arthur: …Maman?

Pascale: We took away something she loved.

Pascale: And then we never gave it back.

Charles: We didn’t have the money.

Pascale: No. But when we did have the money, we put it into restarting Arthur’s karting career.

Arthur: …

Charles: …

Lorenzo: Merde.

Pascale: And we never even considered doing the same for Isabelle.

Pascale: Not once.

Arthur: I—Maman, I didn’t even think—

Pascale: No. None of us did.

Pascale: She cried for weeks when we sold Blanche. And then, one day, she just stopped talking about it.

Pascale: I thought she had let it go.

Charles: She didn’t let it go. She just realized no one was listening.

Pascale: And I, her own mother, let her believe that if it wasn’t about racing, it wasn’t important.

Lorenzo: We all did.

Arthur: We failed her.

Pascale: And yet she still loved us enough to stay.

Pascale: Even when we didn’t see her.

Charles: We need to fix this.

Arthur: Step one: find out who gave her the horse.

Pascale: Step one: apologize.

Arthur: Step two: figure out how we didn’t even KNOW she was riding again.

Lorenzo: When would she have had the time?

Pascale: She found a way. Because we didn’t give her one.

Pascale: Do you know what hurts the most?

Charles: What?

Pascale: That I don’t even know what kind of life she’s been living.

Pascale: What she loves. Where she goes. Who she spends time with.

Pascale: She grew up right in front of me, and I don’t know her at all.

Arthur: …How do we fix this?

Pascale: I don’t know if we can. ****

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@/F1TeaSpillerIsabelle Leclerc just casually dropped a photo of a whole horse on Instagram, and her brothers had NO IDEA she was even riding again. The family drama is writing itself.

↳ @/LandoSimp44: How do you not notice your sister getting into an expensive, time-consuming hobby???

↳ @/FerrariF1Stan: Maybe because they’ve never paid attention to her interests in the first place…??

↳ @/LeclercFanGirl16: Charles and Arthur are spiraling in the comments, Lorenzo is confused, and Isabelle is just out here ignoring them all. QUEEN.

@/F1GossipGirlHold on. Isabelle didn’t just get any horse. If I’m reading this correctly, this foal is from her childhood horse. The one her family SOLD.

↳ @/MaxForPresident33: Oh, so she’s still THAT angry. And honestly? Good for her.

↳ @/RedBullRacingUpdates: The way she’s been quiet for two whole weeks and then dropped a horse like a bombshell?? I need to know who gave it to her.

↳ @/FerrariDramaAccount: Isabelle’s silence has been screaming for a week straight, and now this. The Leclerc brothers are doomed.

@/F1MemeLordLeclerc brothers: "We totally care about our sister." Also the Leclerc brothers: Completely unaware she’s been riding again and now owns a horse.

↳ @/CharlesFanClub: Yeah, Isabelle is 100% still mad. She really said, "You forgot my birthday? Watch this."

↳ ​​@/MonacoMess: Isabelle is SO passive-aggressive and I respect it.

↳ @/HorseGirlFC: I just KNOW she’s been waiting for the perfect moment to drop this. Iconic behavior.

@/F1InsiderTalk: No, but real talk—if her brothers had no idea she was even riding again, that means they haven’t been paying attention to her at all. That’s rough.

↳ @/TifosiQueen: She had a birthday and they forgot. Now she has a whole damn horse and they didn’t even know she still liked horses.

↳ @/MonacoGossip: Isabelle could disappear to another continent, and I swear they wouldn’t notice until someone tagged them in an Instagram post.

↳ @/ArthurFan27: I love Arthur, but the way none of them know anything about her is actually kind of sad.

@/ChaosModeF1I just KNOW Isabelle had this horse for a bit before dropping it like a bomb on Instagram. The drama, the suspense, the Leclerc brothers losing their minds in real time.

↳ @/MaxVerstappenDefenseSquad: The fact that she didn’t post anything about her birthday but came back with a horse tells me everything I need to know.

↳@/FerrariWoes: I feel like this was the final straw moment.

@/RedBullTroll33Okay, but WHO gave her the horse? Because that’s a serious gift.

↳@/ F1ConspiracyClub: If it was Charles or Arthur, they wouldn’t be so confused in the comments. If it was Lorenzo, he wouldn’t be freaking out too.

↳ @/FerrariPain42: Soooo… secret boyfriend? 👀

↳@/F1ShippersAnonymous: If this turns out to be a soft launch, I WILL lose my mind.

@/MonacoRoyaltyI don’t know who gave Isabelle Leclerc a horse, but I do know that person knows her better than her own family does.

↳ @/FerrariNation: …Damn. That’s actually heartbreaking when you put it like that.

↳ @/IsabelleLeclercDefenseSquad: She really just had to go out and find people who see her, huh?

↳ @/WhoGaveHerAHorse33: Someone get me the details. NOW.

@/F1ChaosModeThe funniest part of this is that Isabelle still hasn’t responded to any of her brothers. Just posted her horse and dipped.

↳ @/LeclercFamilyUpdates: The sheer level of pettiness. I love her.

↳ @/TifosiHeartbreak: Isabelle really said you forgot me, so now I’m forgetting you.

↳ @/FerrariShambles: I want a documentary about the exact moment Charles realized they were bad brothers.

@/F1SpicyTeaI know we’re all laughing, but this actually makes me so sad for Isabelle. Imagine your whole family forgetting your birthday, ignoring you for years, and then being SHOCKED when you move on with your life.

↳ @/MonacoMess: They didn’t even know she still loved horses. 

↳ @/FerrariF1Pain: The worst part? She didn’t even make a dramatic callout post about her birthday. She just let their silence speak for itself.

↳ @/TifosiAngstClub: She is the human embodiment of "I no longer expect anything from you."

@/F1ConspiracyClubIsabelle didn’t just buy this horse. Somebody gave it to her, according to her. Whoever they are, they know her better than her entire family.

↳ @/SoftLaunchDetective: If this is a secret boyfriend reveal, it’s the most dramatic and poetic one I’ve ever seen.

@/MonacoRoyalty: Isabelle Leclerc is the queen of quiet revenge. No loud callouts. No arguments. Just a perfectly timed Instagram post that says everything.

↳ @/FerrariTears: And the best part? Her brothers are LOSING IT in the comments.

↳ @/ArthurLeclercDefenseSquad: Arthur is panicking like she’s about to disappear forever.

↳ @/CharlesHasNoClue: Charles sounds like he’s five seconds away from personally investigating who gave her the horse.

↳ @/TifosiDetectives: The thing is, they should know. But they don’t.

@/TifosiMess: So let me get this straight:

Isabelle’s family forgot her birthday.

She disappeared for two weeks.

Charles finally remembers that he has a sister. 

Isabelle comes back with a horse.

Drops it on Instagram like it’s a casual Tuesday.

Her brothers have no idea where it came from.

I am obsessed with this timeline.

↳ @/FerrariAngst: I’m still stuck on "they didn’t even know she was riding again."

↳ @/CharlesNeedsHelp: The way they suddenly care now that it’s public.

@/F1SoftLaunchDetective: I’ll say it. Whoever gave her the horse loves her more than her own family does.

↳ @/FerrariHeartbreak: And that’s why the Leclerc brothers are panicking.

↳ @/RedBullInsider: Just waiting for the next phase of this drama. I know something bigger is coming.

↳ @/TifosiConspiracies: I have a gut feeling that when we find out who got her the horse, the internet will EXPLODE.

***

Text Messages: Arthur Leclerc & Belle Verstappen

Arthur: I don’t really know how to start this.

Arthur: But I guess the first thing I need to say is—I’m sorry.

Arthur: I keep thinking about when I had to stop karting. How devastated I was. How unfair it felt.

Arthur: You know, when I was younger, I used to think we were the same.

Arthur: We both lost something for Charles. We both had to step aside.

Arthur: But the difference is, I got my second chance.

Arthur: And you never did.

Arthur: They gave me my dream back. But nobody ever thought to give you yours.

Arthur: And the worst part is, I never even thought about it.

Arthur: I was so focused on getting my own dream back that I never stopped to ask if you wanted yours.

Arthur: Or if you were even okay.

Arthur: I remember when they sold Blanche. You locked yourself in your room for days. Maman kept saying you’d get over it.

Arthur: But you never did, did you?

Arthur: I should have noticed. I should have asked.

Arthur: I should have known that you never stopped loving it. That you never moved on just because we assumed you did.

Arthur: But we never gave you a choice, did we?

Arthur: You were always the one who had to sacrifice something. You were always the one who had to step aside.

Arthur: And I never even thought about how much that must have hurt.

Arthur: I let myself believe you were fine because it was easier than realizing we left you behind.

Arthur: When I saw that horse, I thought my heart stopped. She looks just like Blanche.

Arthur: I had to read your post three times before it sank in. That you never let go of that part of yourself. That you found your way back.

Arthur: And none of us even knew.

Arthur: I don’t know where to start making this right. I don’t know if I even can.

Arthur: I don’t expect you to answer me. I don’t even know if I deserve an answer.

Arthur: But Isabelle, if there is even the smallest chance that I can fix this, that I can fix us—

Arthur: Tell me how. And I’ll do it.

Arthur: No hesitation. No questions asked.

Arthur: Je suis désolé, petite sœur.

Arthur: And I miss you.

***

Group Chat: HELP ME

 (Members: Daniel Ricciardo, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Lewis Hamilton, Carlos Sainz Jr., George Russell, Alex Albon, Nico Hulkenberg, Nico Rosberg, Sebastian Vettel, Mark Webber, David Coulthard, Sergio Pérez, Fernando Alonso, Kimi Räikkönen, Zhou Guanyu, Logan Sergeant, Esteban Ocon, Lance Stroll and Valtteri Bottas)

Lando: (sends screenshots) Belle is choosing violence. 

Carlos: She posted Fleur 😭

Alex: Softest betrayal ever. I’m crying.

Sebastian: That's not just any horse. That’s the horse.

Zhou: WAIT??? THAT'S THE FOAL FROM HER CHILDHOOD HORSE??

Fernando: The symbolism is destroying me. Quiet vengeance at its finest.

David: Imagine getting obliterated by your sister posting a horse.

Lance: Charles is about to have another breakdown isn’t he

Oscar: He’s already melting down in her comments.

Logan: WHO GAVE HER THE HORSE THOUGH

George: who do you THINK

Nico Hülkenberg: lol max the softest secret husband in existence

Daniel: max is so whipped it's beautiful

Lewis: He literally said “my wife wants to visit her horse” the other day with the softest voice known to man

Kimi: Good. Someone should love her properly.

Lando: the LECLERC BROTHERS are LOSING IT

Oscar: literally fighting for their lives in the comments while Belle is posting like nothing happened 😂

Fernando: This is what true passive-aggressive excellence looks like. I’m so proud.

Valtteri: horse girl revenge >>> everything

Zhou: also can we talk about how she hasn’t answered a SINGLE one of them

George: Do you think Charles is gonna figure it out soon??

Carlos: absolutely not.

Oscar: he's gonna lose his mind when he finds out Max bought her the horse

Daniel: WAIT TILL HE FINDS OUT THEY'RE MARRIED LMAOOOO

Lando: oh my god he still doesn't know

Lewis: beautiful chaos.

Alex: 10/10 no notes

Oscar: Honestly Belle just won the soft war without even lifting a finger.

Daniel: She dropped a horse and bounced. ICON.

George: Meanwhile Charles is running around Monaco like a headless chicken.

Carlos: good. he deserves to sit with this.

Fernando: actions have consequences. and sometimes those consequences come with four legs and a braided mane.

***

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@/coraliegaudin: I don’t think people really get how much Isabelle Leclerc sacrificed. I knew her at university, and she was one of the smartest, hardest-working people I’ve ever met. But she never seemed happy. A thread.

↳ @/coraliegaudin: She wasn’t the type to talk about herself. She showed up, did the work, and left. No parties, no celebrations, nothing. Just school and her jobs.

↳@/coraliegaudin: And she always had jobs. She tutored, did internships, and worked at a stable. Yes, a stable.

↳@/coraliegaudin: I remember seeing her come to class still smelling like hay, her hands rough from work. And the thing is? That was the only time she ever looked truly alive.

↳@/coraliegaudin: She never told people why, but I found out later—her family sold her childhood horse when she was a teenager.

↳@/coraliegaudin: She didn’t ask them to fix it. She didn’t ask for help. She just worked. Worked herself into the ground to afford even a few hours of riding time.

↳@/coraliegaudin: I remember once, someone asked her why she never celebrated her grades. She just said, “It’s not that important.”

↳@/coraliegaudin: Not that important. Graduating with top honors. Getting a degree. None of it mattered to her. Because all she ever wanted was something she lost years ago.

↳@/coraliegaudin: And now, she has a horse again. Not just any horse—the foal of the one she lost.

↳@/coraliegaudin: I don’t think people understand how huge that is. This isn’t just a gift. It’s her entire dream given back to her.

↳@/coraliegaudin: She spent years giving up things for other people. But someone finally gave something back to her.

↳@/coraliegaudin: If anyone deserves that kind of love and thoughtfulness, it’s Isabelle Leclerc. I hope she’s finally as happy as she always deserved to be.

***

Text Messages: Lorenzo Leclerc & Belle Verstappen

Lorenzo: Isabelle.

Lorenzo: I know you probably don’t want to hear from me.

Lorenzo: But I need to say this.

Lorenzo: I’m sorry.

Lorenzo: I don’t know how we forgot your birthday. I don’t know how we’ve made you feel so invisible.

Lorenzo: But we did. And I hate that it took this for me to realize how badly we’ve failed you.

Lorenzo: You’ve been riding again. I didn’t know. And that’s the problem, isn’t it?

Lorenzo: I should have. I should have asked. I should have paid more attention.

Lorenzo: But I didn’t.

Lorenzo: I should have asked what you were up to. I should have…I should have known that you were riding again. And that you moved. And that you quit your job. But I didn’t. 

Lorenzo: I just assumed you were fine, even when you had every reason not to be.

Lorenzo: I don’t expect you to answer.

Lorenzo: I just need you to know—I see it now. I see you now.

Lorenzo: And I will spend however long it takes making sure you never feel forgotten again.

Lorenzo: I love you, Isabelle.

Lorenzo: Whenever you’re ready.

***

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@/Clara_Marelli: So I wasn’t going to say anything, but seeing all the speculation about Isabelle Leclerc and her new horse? I need people to understand why this is such a big deal. Because I knew her back when she lost her first horse, and let me tell you—it broke her.

↳@/Clara_Marelli: Isabelle wasn’t just a horse girl, she was the horse girl. You know how some kids live and breathe a sport? That was her with riding. It wasn’t just a hobby, it was everything.

↳@/Clara_Marelli: She used to come to school with hay in her hair because she’d wake up early to ride before class. She had riding gloves permanently stuffed in her pockets. She sketched horses in the margins of her notebooks. It was who she was.

↳@/Clara_Marelli: And then one day, she stopped.

↳@/Clara_Marelli: We were all confused. She never shut up about riding, and suddenly, she wouldn’t even mention it. If you asked about her horse, she’d just give this tight little smile and say, “She’s gone.” No explanation. No emotion. Just… gone.

↳@/Clara_Marelli: We only found out later that her family sold her horse to help fund Charles’ racing career. And look—I get it, racing is insanely expensive, and the Leclercs aren’t the first family to make sacrifices for motorsport. But this wasn’t just some hobby she could pick up again later.

↳@/Clara_Marelli: This was the thing that made her happiest, and it was ripped away from her.

↳@/Clara_Marelli: And what made it worse? She never complained. Not once. She just swallowed it, like she had already learned that what she wanted didn’t matter.

↳@/Clara_Marelli: After that, she changed. She got quieter. She stopped sketching horses. She stopped talking about anything she loved, really. It was like she decided—consciously or not—that if she didn’t care about things, they couldn’t be taken from her.

↳@/Clara_Marelli: And now, years later, she suddenly posts that she has a horse again. And her own brothers didn’t even know she was riding.

↳@/Clara_Marelli:  That tells me everything. It tells me that she never stopped missing it. That, at some point, she must have started riding again, but she kept it completely to herself. She didn’t tell her family. She didn’t trust them with it.

↳@/Clara_Marelli: And honestly? That makes me so, so sad. Because they should’ve been the first to know. They should’ve noticed that she was still hurting.

↳@/Clara_Marelli:  Instead, she had to find her way back to something she loved on her own.

↳@/Clara_Marelli: Whoever got her that horse—because let’s be real, this wasn’t a random purchase—they didn’t just give her a gift. They gave her back a part of herself. And that means more than her family probably even realizes.

@/F1Girl99: This is actually so heartbreaking. The way she just shut down after losing her horse?? And her family didn’t even realize??

@/LeclercNation: Nah, this makes the whole thing so much worse. Like, it’s one thing to forget her birthday, but not even knowing she still rides??

@/redbullgirly: “She didn’t trust them with it” is actually such a devastating sentence. Imagine having to hide the thing that makes you happiest because you know your family won’t care.

↳@/arthurfairy: The fact that she got a horse again but didn’t tell a single soul in her family tells me everything I need to know about how much that hurt her.

@/gridgossip: Everyone’s talking about how sad this is, but can we also talk about who got her that horse? Because that’s not a small gift. That’s a “someone knows exactly what you lost and wanted to give it back” kind of gift.

@/tifositilidie: Imagine being Charles or Arthur and realizing you never even thought about getting her back into riding.

↳@/ohmyf1: The fact that they restarted Arthur’s karting career but didn’t do the same for Isabelle and just assumed she got over it… yeah, that’s rough.

@/chaoticquadrant: Isabelle’s silence about all of this is louder than anything she could’ve said.

@/pitlaneprincess: The fact that a random classmate knows more about Isabelle’s pain than her own family is WILD.

@/verstapwinning: I actually can’t get over the part where she just stopped talking about things she loved after they sold her horse. That’s not just sadness, that’s trauma.

@/softforcharles: I love Charles, but the way they all just assumed she was fine… like, did no one ever ask her if she wanted to ride again??

↳@/F1andChill: I’m just saying—if my sibling was secretly riding again and I found out from Instagram, I would simply pass away from shame.

@/IsabelleLeclercFan: The worst part? She didn’t even announce it like “Look what I got!” She just posted it, like it was a casual thing. That’s how you know it meant everything to her.

@/formula1tea: Okay, but do we think her family even realizes what this means yet?? Or are they still stuck on the “Wait, she rides?” stage?

@/offtrackchaos: Imagine Charles thinking she just outgrew the horse phase, only to find out she’s been hiding it from them for years.

@/arthurisstressed: Arthur’s probably having a full-blown crisis over this. You just know he’s the type to blame himself.

@/MaranelloMess: Isabelle’s whole family right now: “Wait… are we the villains?”

↳@/tifosiprincess: Yes. Yes, you are.

@/undercutf1: Like imagine realizing your sister got back into her childhood passion, something that was taken from her, and you had no idea. No one knew. That’s insane.

@/arthurwasfoundshaking: Arthur realizing he got his dream back but she never did… oh, he’s spiraling.

@/paddocksecrets: Her whole family just realized in real time that they don’t actually know her anymore.

@/charlesnation16: Charles must be freaking out because, in his head, Isabelle never even mentioned wanting to ride again. But the reality is she probably knew they wouldn’t care, so she never said anything.

@/leclercsdaughter: Imagine looking at your sister’s post and realizing someone else—not you, not your family—gave her back the thing you all took away.

@/mclarendreaming: The fact that there was ZERO lead-up. No hints. No casual mentions. Just BAM, full horse.

@/paddockwhispers: At this point, someone needs to check on the Leclerc group chat. I know they are LOSING IT.

@/padlockpundit: Someone said this isn’t just a gift, it’s an apology on behalf of the universe, and honestly?? Yeah.

@/blisteringbarnacles: I can’t tell what’s funnier—Twitter solving this mystery in real-time or the fact that Isabelle is probably watching all of this unfold while sipping tea.

@/hamiltonshalo: Someone find out how much horses cost because I need to understand just how deep this gift goes.

@/GridTea: Sorry, but how do you have a sibling making millions in F1, and you’re out here working three jobs and shoveling horse stalls just to afford riding lessons?? I need someone to make it make sense.

@/F1DramaFiles: So Charles was making Ferrari money and Isabelle was out here grinding like a broke college student?? He couldn’t spare a little “my sister should live like a human being” fund???

@/OverworkedLeclerc: She was out here studying, working multiple jobs, AND still showing up to races when she could. Meanwhile, her whole family forgot her birthday. I would simply cut everyone off.

@/HorseGirlAnon: Do you know how EXPENSIVE equestrian sports are? And she worked her own way back into it with no support? That’s insane. She deserved so much better.

@/TifosiMess: Charles in every interview: “Family is everything.”Meanwhile Isabelle: was forgotten at every major milestone in her life.

@/F1Receipts: It’s also the fact that Isabelle has never once publicly complained about it. No bitter comments, no shade—she just put her head down and worked. Meanwhile, Charles was out here with a whole family support system hyping him up.

@/F1Overthinker: Not to be dramatic, but if I were Charles, Arthur, or Lorenzo, I would simply never recover from the public dragging happening right now.

@/F1TeaSpiller: 

Charles: “I’m so grateful to my family for supporting me.”

Isabelle: literally working at a horse stable just to be around them again.

@/JusticeForIsabelle: Nah, the fact that she was grinding through multiple jobs while Charles was out here buying sports cars, yachts, and luxury vacations is actually making me sick.

@/MonacoMess: Me reading Isabelle’s old interviews where she barely mentions herself and only hypes up her brothers, knowing now they weren’t doing the same for her: [GIF: "This is so much worse than I thought."]

***

Text Messages: Pascale Leclerc & Belle Verstappen

Pascale: Ma chérie, please talk to me.

Pascale: I saw your post. The horse… she looks just like Blanche.

Pascale: I didn’t know you were still riding.

Pascale: I should have known.

Pascale: I should have asked.

Pascale: I don’t have the words to tell you how sorry I am.

Pascale: When we sold Blanche, I told myself you would be okay. That you were strong. That you would move on.

Pascale: But that was just me making excuses. I should have fought harder for you.

Pascale: And then when we had the chance to give you back what you lost… we didn’t even think to.

Pascale: Isabelle, please. Say something.

Pascale: Ma fille, I know I don’t deserve an answer right now.

Pascale: I love you. So, so much. ***

Text Messages: Sebastian Vettel & Charles Leclerc

Sebastian: Charles. Saw Belle’s post. Wanted to check in.

Charles: I’m fine.

Sebastian: You’re not. And that’s okay. But pretending doesn’t help.

Charles: It’s just— She has a horse, Seb. A whole horse. And she never told any of us.

Sebastian: Maybe you weren’t listening.

Charles: I WOULD HAVE REMEMBERED A HORSE.

Sebastian: Would you? You didn’t remember her birthday. You didn’t notice she moved out. You didn’t notice she left her job. What makes you think you would have noticed a horse?

Charles: It’s a HORSE, Seb! Not a haircut!

Sebastian: It’s not about the horse. It’s about what the horse represents. Freedom. Love. A piece of herself you never asked about. Or thought to give back.

Charles: It feels like she lied to us.

Sebastian: She didn’t lie. She protected herself. There’s a difference.

Charles: She didn’t even give us a chance to fix it.

Sebastian: Charles. You don't get to demand trust from someone you ignored. Trust is built. It’s not owed.

Charles: I just— I thought she was okay.

Sebastian: Because it was easier to think that than to ask.

Charles: She posted a horse, Seb. A HORSE. HOW LONG HAS SHE BEEN HIDING A HORSE??

Sebastian: (typing) (long pause) Charles. Focus. It’s not about the horse.

Charles: IT’S A LITTLE ABOUT THE HORSE.

Sebastian: Focus.

Charles: I’m trying.

Sebastian: Try harder. She deserves better.

***

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@/F1TeaSpiller: Okay, so if you’re confused about why Isabelle Leclerc’s new horse is causing a meltdown, buckle up, because this is some Shakespearean family drama.

↳@/F1TeaSpiller: Basically, years ago, when Charles was climbing the motorsport ranks, the Leclerc family didn’t have the money to support all three kids in racing. Arthur had to stop karting, and Isabelle—who was really into horseback riding—had her horse sold to fund Charles’ career.

↳@/F1TeaSpiller: Yes. You read that correctly. They sold her childhood horse to support Charles.

↳@/F1TeaSpiller: Now, obviously, funding a motorsport career is insanely expensive, and a lot of families make sacrifices. But imagine being a teenager, loving your horse, and then one day—boom. Gone.

↳@/F1TeaSpiller: What makes it worse? Unlike Arthur, who eventually got the chance to restart his racing career, Isabelle never got that opportunity with riding. The family focused on Charles and never revisited her dreams.

↳@/F1TeaSpiller: Fast forward to now, and Isabelle just casually drops on Instagram that she owns a horse again—and it looks eerily similar to the one they sold.

↳@/F1TeaSpiller: Her brothers (Charles, Arthur, Lorenzo) all freaked out in the comments because they clearly had no idea she was even riding again, let alone that she had bought a horse.

↳@/F1TeaSpiller:  And this is where it gets messy. Because it means:

They never asked about her interests.

They had no clue she had started riding again.

They didn’t even know where she was living.

She never told them about any of this—which, like… speaks volumes.

↳@/F1TeaSpiller:  Anyway, people are connecting the dots and realizing Isabelle has probably been pulling away from her family for a while, and they just… didn’t notice.

↳@/F1TeaSpiller: Because let’s be real—how do you forget your sister’s birthday, AND not know she got back into the thing she loved most as a kid??

↳@/F1TeaSpiller:  TL;DR: The Leclerc brothers are in big trouble right now.

↳@/F1TeaSpiller: Oh, and the final kicker? Isabelle agreed in the comments that the horse was a gift. The way Isabelle phrased her post—“some things will always come back to you”—makes it sound like this horse is directly connected to the one she lost. Apparently it was her childhood’s horse last foal. 

↳@/F1TeaSpiller: If that’s true? Then someone—who is not her family—went out of their way to find a descendant of her old horse and give her back a piece of what she lost.

↳@/F1TeaSpiller: And I have questions.

↳@/F1TeaSpiller: Because if her own family didn’t do this… who did?

***

The restaurant buzzed with quiet conversation and clinking silverware, candlelight glinting off polished glasses. It should have been relaxing — a rare, normal night in Monaco, tucked into a corner booth with Alexandra, sipping wine and trying to pretend that everything wasn’t on fire.

It wasn’t working.

Charles could barely focus on anything she was saying. His mind kept looping back to Belle’s Instagram post.

A horse. A goddamn horse.

Captioned cryptically, like some kind of soft dagger straight into his already-shredded guilt.

He hadn’t even known she still rode. He hadn’t known she had a horse.

What else didn’t he know? What else had he missed while he was busy pretending everything was fine?

He stabbed his fork into his salad with unnecessary violence.

Alexandra reached across the table, covering his hand. “Eat. You’re spiraling.”

Charles muttered something about not being hungry, but then — movement over Alexandra’s shoulder caught his eye.

He straightened immediately.

Across the room, near the outdoor terrace, sat two very familiar figures.

Emilie Abadie. And Lando Norris?!

Together. Laughing.

Leaning in too close over a shared plate of something fried.

It didn’t look like a casual meeting.

It looked like a date.

Charles’s blood pressure spiked instantly.

Because if Emilie was here — and laughing — that meant Belle wasn’t spiraling alone somewhere. Or worse — she wasn’t telling Emilie to tell him anything.

He shot up from his seat before Alexandra could stop him.

"Charles," she hissed, trying to grab his sleeve. "Sit down!"

But he was already marching across the restaurant, half-blinded by panic, guilt, and the deep, bone-deep need to do something.

Emilie spotted him halfway across the room. Her smile dropped like a rock into the ocean.

"Emilie," he said, voice tight. "We need to talk. About Belle."

Emilie set her wineglass down with infuriating calm.

"I’m having dinner," she said coolly. "Sit down or leave."

Charles didn’t sit. He couldn’t. The panic was a living thing inside him.

“She posted a horse,” he said, almost accusingly. “A horse! She never said anything! She’s still not answering me. You’ve seen her. You know. Why won’t you just—just tell me what’s going on?!”

For a second, Emilie just stared at him.

Then — like a blade sliding out of a sheath — her smile disappeared.

"You think you're owed answers now?" she asked, voice so sharp Charles actually leaned back a fraction. "After months of ignoring every warning sign? After standing in the same garage with her and looking through her like she wasn’t even real?"

Charles’s throat worked, but no sound came out.

"You want to know why she’s not answering you?" Emilie went on, soft and lethal. "Because you only want her when it's convenient. When it fits your schedule. When it doesn't mess up the perfect story you tell yourself about your family."

“Emilie—”

"No," she cut across him, fierce and furious. "You don’t get to interrupt. You didn’t text her. You didn’t notice she moved. You didn’t notice she quit her job. You didn’t notice when she smiled through being forgotten on the day that should have been about her."

Charles flinched like she’d slapped him.

"You forgot her birthday," Emilie said, each word a scalpel slicing down to bone. "And you think a few panicked phone calls are enough to fix that?"

He opened his mouth. Closed it.

"You don't love Belle the way you should," Emilie said, voice low, devastating. "You love the idea of her. The safe, quiet little sister who never asks for anything. Who never demands too much. Who lets you shine without ever threatening your light."

Charles stared at her, feeling hollowed out, feeling cracked open.

"You didn't see her when she needed you," Emilie said. "And now you don't deserve to see her at all — not until she says you can."

Beside her, Lando sat perfectly still, wide-eyed — half in awe, half in something dangerously close to admiration.

Charles shook his head, trying to hold onto something, anything.

“I just want to make it right—”

"Then start by not making it about you," Emilie snapped. "Start by realizing that sometimes you don’t get to be the hero of the story you broke."

Charles felt like the floor had dropped out from under him.

For a long moment, the restaurant spun around him — laughter, silverware, clinking glasses — but all he could hear was Emilie’s voice, merciless and true.

And he knew, in some terrible, undeniable way, that she was right.

He wasn’t the center of Belle’s story anymore.

He wasn’t even a footnote.

He had made himself a ghost in her life, and now he was furious that he couldn’t haunt it.

Emilie leaned back in her chair, perfectly calm now, like she hadn’t just torn him apart at the seams.

"Now," she said, reaching for her wine again, "go back to your table. Apologize to Alexandra. And maybe — if you’re lucky — figure out how to be someone your sister actually wants to let back in."

Charles didn’t say anything. He couldn’t.

He turned away on shaking legs, retreating across the restaurant under the weight of his own failure.

***

Text Messages: Charles Leclerc & Belle Verstappen

Charles: Isabelle.

Charles: I know you probably don’t want to hear from me. I get it. I’m still going to say this anyway.

Charles: I was fifteen when they sold Blanche. I knew how much she meant to you. I knew how much it would break your heart.

Charles: And I still let it happen. I told myself it wasn’t my decision. That it was out of my hands. That it was for the greater good.

Charles: But that’s not the truth. The truth is, I was selfish. I was scared. I was so focused on keeping my own dream alive that I let them take yours away.

Charles: I didn’t fight for you. I didn’t even try.

Charles: I keep thinking about that day. The way you looked at them. At me. Like you finally understood that nothing you said was ever going to change it. And still, I stayed quiet. I just let it happen.

Charles: You didn’t scream. You didn’t cry. You just… disappeared inside yourself. And we all pretended it would get better on its own.

Charles: It didn’t.

Charles: When Arthur got his second chance years later, we celebrated. But we never once thought about giving you yours. We just assumed you had "moved on."

Charles: I see now how wrong that was. You didn’t move on. You just learned how to survive being left behind.

Charles: And then we forgot your birthday. You were standing right there. Wearing Ferrari red. Smiling at me. And I still didn’t see you.

Charles: I keep asking myself how many times we made you feel invisible without even realizing it.

Charles: I don’t blame you for shutting us out. I don’t blame you for walking away. You deserved better than what we gave you.

Charles: And I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry.

Charles: I don’t know how to fix this. Maybe I can’t.

Charles: But I want to try. If you’ll let me.

Charles: If you need space, I’ll give you space. If you need time, I’ll wait. If you never want to speak to me again, I’ll understand.

Charles: But if there’s any chance at all—any way to rebuild even a fraction of what we broke— I’ll do whatever it takes.

Charles: No excuses. No conditions. No timeline.

Charles: I’ll wait as long as you need. I’ll listen as long as it takes.

Charles: You mattered then. You matter now. You always have. Even when we were too blind to see it.

Charles: I love you. I’m so sorry I ever made you doubt that.

[differenteagletragedy]

Simon doesn't remember the name of the woman who took his virginity. At this point, all these years later, he's not sure if he ever knew it. It was a chance encounter, quick and a little dirty but fun. Fine.

He'd been in the neighborhood pub, the one he escaped to when he didn't want to be at home, shooting pool. He wasn't that good at it, not then, but he practiced for something to do, and as he racked up the balls for a third round against himself, he apparently caught her eye.

A bit older than him, the woman was immediately forward and flirty, and it wasn't a secret, even as inexperienced as Simon was, as to what she wanted. His body must have felt some kind of desire with the way it reacted to her, blood rushing south as she slid her hands over him in the dim light of the nearly vacant bar, but when she invited him to her flat down the street, it wasn't lust that made him agree.

It was curiosity. He wondered what it would feel like to be wanted, even on a base level like this, and if it would fill up whatever hole that had been inside him for as long as he could remember.

And it did. A little.

He'd never even kissed a girl before, always too closed-off to get in any kind of position to do something like that, but that night, he kissed the woman from the pub, over and over again. He followed her movements, let her put her hands on him and place him where he needed to go, and it was something.

When their clothes came off, left in a haphazard heap around her cluttered living room, it was something more, and when she pushed him to the couch and sunk down onto him, the unfamiliar warmth almost overwhelming, for a second, it was everything.

He came too fast, and it was over too soon. That night, he slid back into his own bed, alone again. He couldn't tell if he felt better, knowing there was something he could do to soothe the ache in him, or if it was worse, having the relief for a moment then going back to nothing.

A few nights later, when the weekend hit and the pub was more crowded, he caught the eye of a pretty girl in the corner, shyly checking him out, and he got his answer.

For Simon, for years, it was better to have a little bit of comfort. Just a little bit, because he never saw a way that he could have more. A stranger from a bar, one from the grocery store that asks him to reach a high shelf and flirts a little too much ... he gets good at spotting whatever that first woman saw in him. The part of someone that's open to a quick, needy fuck.

He sees it in you. Clocks it straightaway, but he also sees something more.

It's in the way you pull back after he kisses you hard and deep, the only way he really knows how to kiss. He stops, thinking you've changed your mind, but you're still there, still close, with such a soft look in your eyes now. You initiate the kiss this time, your hands sliding up to cup his cheeks, keeping him in place as you slow things down.

It's disorienting almost, he tries to shake it off, to get back to how this is supposed to go. He yanks your shirt off, and you let him, but when he moves his hands to roughly palm at your chest, you patiently pull them back down to rest on your waist.

"Slow down," you murmur, smiling up at him. "We've got a little time."

It's muscle memory for him at this point, finding a woman and bringing her to a quiet, private place, pushing into her, feeling the brief reprieve it brings. But with you, the rhythm is all off. It's somehow very good and very bad, all at the same time.

"Thought you wanted something here," he mutters, his meaning clear -- he thought you wanted him.

"I do," you answer. "I just don't want it to be over in five minutes. That ok?"

He's not sure what else to do, so he nods. And he slows down.

It's different, sex when you're not rushing towards the end-goal. His hands, used to action in moments like this, pushing and pulling and gripping, instead find yours. Your fingers intertwine, and you kiss him, almost lazily, like you’ve got all the time in the world. Like he’s worth it.

To Simon, it feels strange and new, but not really -- like it's all happening through the filmy haze of a dream, where somehow he knows every step of this dance and yet nothing at all, all at once. To you, from the soft sounds slipping from your lips, it feels right.

When it's over, and you're both breathless and sated, he feels like that boy again -- the one who'd never been kissed and who didn't know where to put his hands. But now, he notices, one hand is still grasping yours and he squeezes it, just barely.

"That ok?" he asks softly, and he's not sure if he's speaking to you or to himself.

"Perfect," you tell him, turning your head to give him a smile.

He doesn't know if he'll ever see you again. But he's memorizing the weight of your hand in his, the steady sound of your breathing as it returns to normal. And even if he never has this with you again, in the moment he knows that he's capable of it. And that's enough.

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

──── ONLY YOU . ↳ one shot // also part of the no doubt series !

✎ᝰ .ᐟ aka the party, the ex, and the moment you realize jake is exactly where he wants to be.

── sim jaeyun x f!reader ౨ৎ wc. 861 ⌗ angst (a lil), the ex, mentions of the ex scene (this is for all you no doubt ex scene lovers i traumatized─this is my apology to you), mentions of insecurities & doubt, but then comfort :')

↳ IMPORTANT NOTE .ᐟ ── this is part of my no doubt series ─ a sequel series of short drabbles that take place after the events of my fic no doubt, and show jake & reader's relationship throughout their first year together (& how jake wins her trust & love back hehe) ── THIS CAN BE READ AS A ONE-SHOT, however, there will be some easter eggs if you've read no doubt before!

↳ addie's ✉ .ᐟ ── sooo...so far this series has been all fluff & lighthearted & all that fun handy dandy stuff...until this one. not saying this one isn't fluff, but it's more so realistic. because of course, y/n still has her remnants of doubt & fear lingering within, especially after how hurt she was in no doubt. but all she needs is a lil reassurance from her favorite boy :') and he's more than willing to give it to her.

You’re not proud of it.

The way your heart speeds up—anxiously, irrationally, helplessly.

The way your fingers tighten around the drink in your hand.

The way your jaw clenches when your eyes lock onto her from across the crowded room.

Jenn.

Of course she’s here. Because the universe has a horrible sense of humor—and, apparently, a personal vendetta against you.

The party is alive all around you, music echoing, bodies swaying, lights flashing—but it all fades into nothingness as you watch her slip through the crowd.

And she’s smiling, laughing, existing—and, worst of all, getting closer.

Not to you, no.

To Jake.

To Jake, who told you to stay put while he grabs drinks for the both of you.

To Jake, who’s now swallowed up somewhere in the crowd, just far enough to feel out of reach.

And no matter how much you blink, no matter how hard you fight the rising heat in your chest, all you can do is watch.

You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until you see her reach for him.

An all-too-familiar lean-in.

An all-too-familiar smile.

And suddenly, you’re back there.

Back to the last party, the last time you saw them together, the last time you let yourself believe that Jake was—

No. No, stop it.

This is different. You know it is. You know him.

But knowing doesn’t stop the sinking feeling in your chest.

You think you might be sick.

You look away, swallowing the lump forming in your throat, forcing yourself to calm down, please, calm down—

“Hey.”

Jake’s voice.

Right there.

You blink up, startled, and—wait, when did he even get here?

He’s standing right in front of you now, brows furrowed, concern bleeding into every line of his face.

“Y/N,” he says, voice quieter now. “What’s wrong?”

His eyes flicker over your face like he knows.

Like he sees it.

And you hate that. You hate that he sees you so well.

Knows you.

Hate that he’s the only one who ever has, and the only one who ever will.

You force out a shaky laugh, “Nothing, I—”

“Y/N.”

His voice says your name like a plea, and your stomach twists.

You glance past him, where Jenn is still standing—watching, waiting.

Waiting for him.

You drop your gaze, “It’s okay, really. You don’t have to—”

“I do.”

You freeze, your eyes shooting up to his. His own concerned ones, searching yours so, so desperately.

Jake exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, then—before you can react—he grabs your free hand and pulls you through the crowd.

You don’t even get a chance to protest before you’re being led out of the party, past the music and the people and this stupid, suffocating doubt in your chest.

“Jake—”

He doesn’t stop.

Not until you’re both outside on the balcony, the crisp city air hitting you fast—cold and grounding, like a harsh wake-up call, the only sound being the muffled bass from behind the doors.

And then—Jake turns to you.

His grip on your hand tightens, like he’s making sure you don’t run.

“Look at me.”

Your heart skips a beat.

But you do. Slowly.

His other hand comes up to your jaw, his touch warm against your skin, his thumb brushing softly at your cheek and tilting your face towards his own.

He lets out an exhale.

“Y/N,” his voice is quiet—but real. “I need you to hear this, okay?”

You nod, barely breathing.

“You know it’s you. Always been you,” his voice is steady. Sure. Heartbreakingly true. “I don’t care about the past. I don’t care about anyone else. And I need you to believe that.”

Your throat tightens. Your eyes sting.

“I do, I just—”

“You don’t,” Jake’s voice wavers a little, but his grip doesn’t. “Not yet. And that’s okay. But I need you to know I’m not going anywhere. I’m not giving up when you doubt it. When you doubt me. I’ll show you, again and again, it’s only you.”

He pauses. His thumb swipes under your eye, catching the tear you didn’t even realize slipped out.

“I’ll remind you. Until you don’t need reminding anymore.”

You let out a shaky breath, but you can’t look away. From how honest he looks. From how serious he means it.

It’s too much.

It’s everything.

Jake studies you, studies the battle in your expression. Then—he softens, his mouth quirking into the smallest, gentlest smile.

“And if it helps,” he adds, leaning in like it’s a secret just for you, “I’m pretty sure she got the idea I’m actively avoiding her now.”

You choke out a laugh.

He grins, thumb swiping away another tear that escaped you instinctively, “There you are, pretty.”

And the way he says it—like he missed you, like he’s been waiting for you to come back to him—makes your heart break open in the best way.

But not in the painful way it used to.

In the way that feels like oh.

This is what love feels like.

And Jake—Jake watches you carefully, eyes flickering over your face, not saying anything else.

Just waiting.

Waiting for you.

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[joshujihan23]

You’re safe with me

☆ pairing: mafia boss!seungcheol x girlfriend!reader

☆ synopsis: the mafia scene was something that isn’t unfamiliar to you since your boyfriend is THE mafia boss, so is it surprising that you got involved as well?

☆ trigger warning: mentions of violence, abuse, torture, blood, degrading terms such as weak, mentions of injuries such as bruises, cuts, scars.

☆ author’s note: my LONGESTT fic yet. not sure how i feel about this.. do let me know how it is!

————————————————————————

you were overwhelmed with fear, your eyes shielded by the numerous tears filling your eyelids, dripping down your cheeks simultaneously.

you were exhausted. frightened. nervous, anything relating to fear.

your hands were tied with thick, rough rope, and trapped behind the chair you were sitting on. your legs scarred, filled with bruises and cuts from the whips given by his enemy’s subjects. their sinister laughs, their amused expressions, were printed in your brain.

and the scene when you got kidnapped, was replaying again and again. apparently seungcheol betrayed his best friend, alex. and his revenge? kidnap his love of his life, torture his beloved, until seungcheol strikes a deal with him.

and best believe, you knew who the enemy was. the person that ‘fought for you’ against seungcheol.

which in the end, seungcheol won.

and he is here today to get his revenge, after he has risen in placings in the mafia scene.

but whatever that got you in this situation didn’t matter to you at that point. the pain, the fear in you, took over your mind, leaving you to dread whatever that was coming up next.

you heard footsteps approaching, slowly but firmly. you sighed with a shaky breath, preparing yourself for the worst.

it has been hours, and seungcheol hasn’t arrive.

and that is killing you slowly but surely.

just then, you felt a hand, rough and callous, grip onto your cheek. you winced, looking up at him weakly.

only to see that it was alex, with an evil smirk plastered across his face.

you gulped, trying to move your face out of his grip.

only for him to return with a harsh slap across your cheek, making you yelp in pain.

“your prince charming isn’t coming, love. just give it up.” he snickered.

“he will, he definitely will..” you mumbled.

his eyes gazed down your figure, his smirk widening as he does so. he took a step forward, his tall figure standing before you, making you gulp. he grabbed onto your cheek harshly, his cold hand come into contact with the small bruise forming on your cheek from all the torture you’ve been facing, making you wince.

that made alex chuckle darkly, giving you another slap across your cheek.

“such a weak woman, are you? need your knight in shining armour to continuously save you. guess what, pretty? he isn’t coming.” he said in a mocking tone, his eyes shifting to the orange glow at the corner of the dark, eerie warehouse.

the sun is setting. is seungcheol not going to come soon?

before you could even turn to face the sun ray creeping into the warehouse, you felt alex harshly gripping onto your chin.

his face inched closer to you, his breath hitting the tip of your nose gently, a stark contrast to his menacing gaze.

“i fought so hard. i fought so hard so that you could be mine. but what did my dear best friend do? steal you from me. if you were mine, we won’t be having this issue here, darling.” he spoke, his voice low and dark.

he let out another dark chuckle, his other hand gripping onto your thigh tightly.

“now, let me enjoy this time with you. the time which i longed for for all these gruelling years..”

his voice lingered at the end of the sentence. before you could even say anything, he smashed his lips onto you, making you yelp. panicked, you started to fumble on the chair, making some efforts to remove the string that tied both of hands behind your back.

but alex didn’t back down. in fact, he grabbed your cheek harshly with his hand, while using the other to hold your body down on the flimsy chair.

before you knew it, you felt his cold hand playing with the hem of your shirt, as it creeped underneath it. feeling the chills going up your body from the sudden contact, you yelped, but was quickly silenced when he bit your lip recklessly, penetrating his tongue into your mouth, exploring every single inch of it.

you tried, you tried everything in your ability to stop him. you wanted to yank your leg forward to kick him, but his grip on your thigh was so, so strong.

and that’s when you heard a rip.

puzzled, you looked down, only to see that your shirt had rip, due to how old the material was.

alex cackled, his eyes widening in disbelief.

“lord and behold, such smooth and milky skin. tempting, are we?” he growled.

his lips returned to attack yours, his fingertips grazing against your chest, making shivers go down your spine.

“don’t be scared, sweetie, let me take care of you.”

and that moment, you hear gun shots fire right outside the warehouse. cursing under his breath, you could almost see the screws in his brain turning, as he continued to make out with you.

“shh, don’t be frightened, princess. let me just feel you a bit more.”

his hands creeped down your body, reaching against your thigh. he squeezed it harshly, making you flinch. he hiked your skirt up swiftly, his fingers brushing against your inner thigh.

no. he can’t do this. he just can’t.

you tried to shake him off, but he just won’t budge. feeling the tears trickling down your cheeks, you heard the large, wooden door burst open.

“get your hands off her.”

startled, you saw that alex turned his head, his smirk widening.

your eyes glanced to the door as well, and you couldn’t be more relieved.

seungcheol, standing right there, with all his other members.

alex got off of you, brushing his hands together, while walking towards seungcheol with a menacing grin.

“well, well, well. look who we have here?” alex announced.

you saw seungcheol whispering to his other members, as they began to scatter.

“let’s end this with a duel, the first to surrender, loses.” seungcheol declared, his right hand playing with his gun skilfully.

“fine, but no weapons, fair and square.” alex rebutted, throwing his gun aside.

“deal.”

and it all began, the fistfighting. the two men began throwing punches at each other, kicking the other with full force. seungcheol swung a fist against alex’s cheek, making alex return with a strong kick against his legs.

invested in the fight, you didn’t realise that your hands were free, and a pair of arms wrapped around you.

you turned around, to see that it was jeonghan, seungcheol’s most trusted member, and certainly your favourite except for seungcheol.

he placed a hand on your head, trying to reassure you as much as he could.

“you’re safe with us. your injuries, does it hurt, how much does it hurt.”

with this many questions, you could guess that he was trying to distract you from the fight. but your eyes remain glued onto the two men, who behaved relatively animalistic.

seungcheol seemed like he was winning, until alex kicked onto his leg harshly, making his knees buckle. he knelt in front of him, before alex pulled out a knife from his pocket, grazing it against seungcheol’s neck.

“it’s over, buddy. just give up and give me your girl, and we’ll be all good.”

your eyes widened, you wanted to go to him, but jeonghan pulled you back, telling you that it was too dangerous. but seungcheol kept his menacing gaze, his eyes fixed onto alex.

“you will never get her, you aren’t good enough for her.”

you heard seungcheol wince, watching closely, the knife dug deeper in his neck, blood dripping onto the knife slowly.

frightened, you did the thing that only seemed right to you, although it might be deemed as rash.

you escaped from jeonghan’s arms, scurrying onto the floor, and

BANG.

the shot fired, silencing the entire room.

the entire room stood still, almost as if time has stopped.

the body fell on the ground, limp and bleeding, but he was still breathing, since his chest was still rising, slowly but surely.

your hands clenched onto the pistol, your hands shaking from the shock you have. your eyes darted around, only to land on seungcheol.

his facial expression was unreadable, the blood on his neck still dripping.

and that made a wave of fear rush over you, as you watch seungcheol walk towards you.

“i-i’m sorry i didn’t know why i did that i-i was just so scared i’m so-”

and that’s when you felt his soft lips on yours, his hands wrapping around your waist gently. his kiss was so soft, so gentle, yet there’s a lingering feeling of possessive, protectiveness.

at the familiar touch, you gave in immediately, returning the kiss.

breaking away, he placed his forehead against yours, taking that moment to calm his breathing.

“you did the right thing, princess. if it weren’t for you, i would have lost you completely. you’re so brave, so so brave.” his hand ran through the strands of your hair, brushing it away from you.

he looked down, seeing the complete mess that you were in. the torn shirt, the crumped skirt, and most importantly, your injured body, his heart broke almost immediately.

he took off his jacket, wrapping it around your body, making you wear it.

“it’s going to be cold, wear this so that you won’t fall sick, alright?” he mumbled, his sweet tone lingering in the air.

“cheollie..” you sighed shakily, your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to you. you buried your head into his neck, feeling his blood trickling on your neck. you held onto him tightly, your breath becoming more and more shaky from fear.

that absolutely broke seungcheol’s heart. the only times when you actually called him ‘cheollie’, was when you were scared, when you had so much fear in you it hurts his heart. that made him pull you closer to him, as if he was protecting you from the rest of the world.

“you’re safe with me now, princess. i’ll protect you better, i swear.” he mumbled, his breath tickling your ear gently.

“sorry to.. ruin the moment. but what are we doing with this animal?”

the both of you turned around, to see joshua leaning forward, watching alex carefully while kicking his unconscious body.

“leave him here, we’ll teach him a lesson.” seungcheol spoke, in such a simple, yet evil tone.

he turned his attention to you again, his eyes softening at the sight of your tear-filled, doe eyes.

“i have one favour of you. tell me everything he did, and that will determine my punishment for him tomorrow.”

————————————————————————

the soft music of the movie played in the background, the sweet scent of the candle he lit up filled the room.

after the both of you got home, he immediately carried you in bridal style, and towards your bedroom. he sat you down on the mattress, while examining the state that you are in.

the bright, bruising red mark on your cheeks, the ones that he always hold on to seek comfort. your torn shirt, the shirt that you always told him not to throw away because it meant so much to you, but because of today, it got destroyed. your thigh, covered in red marks, with bruises and cuts trailing down your leg, the pair of legs he just loves to touch because it was just so, so soft.

and most importantly, your lips. the pinkish, soft lips that he loves to connect his lips with, was now bruised, swollen, and split.

he cupped your cheeks, gently so that it won’t trigger any pain when he did so. but seeing you wince softly at the touch, his heart immediately broke.

he placed his forehead against yours, letting out a shaky sigh.

“fuck, i didn’t want this job of mine to danger you. what did i do.. i’m so sorry princess. i’m so sorry..” he mumbled gently, his eyes tracing your face.

your gaze was locked onto his, watching his eyes soften as he examined your injuries. seeing the guilt building in him, you quickly placed a finger on his lips, shushing him.

“don’t be, at least i’m safe with you now, right?” you replied, your lips brushing against his.

seungcheol let out another shaky sigh, placing a peck on your lips, giving himself a reminder that you are actually safe with him.

“you’re right, you’re so so right. let me take care of you, please. i need to see you feel better before i can do so myself.” he whispered, his hand grasping onto yours gently.

seungcheol stood up, taking one last look at you, before he walked off to the bathroom. a few moments later, you see him walking back towards you, with a basin filled with water and washcloth in one hand, and the first aid kit in the other.

he sat in front of you, his weight sinking the bed down slightly. he placed the basin on the bedside table, dipping the cloth into it. he wrung it gently, as he brought it closer to your face.

“this is going to sting, be strong for me, okay?” he mumbled gently, waiting for your approval while he continued to stare into your eyes.

when you nodded, he sighed softly, dabbing the wet cloth onto the wounds on your face. feeling the sting, you hissed, your hands clenching onto his arm.

he stopped for a moment, watching how your face clenched up, your eyes closing a little from the pain.

“i know i know, it hurts right? i’ll be quick, i promise.” he said reassuringly.

he seemed to treat your injuries pretty quickly, and before you know it, he was already done. your body was filled with bandages, small plasters, and oilment to treat the bruises. he placed the cloth back in the basin, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“you did so well, princess. so good for me.” he praised, a small smile forming on his lips.

you gave him a smile in return, before kneeling forward, while placing a hand on his chest. your eyes was fixated on the scar on his neck, the one he got while he was in the fight with alex.

“relax baby, now it’s my turn to take care of you.” you said softly, holding onto the wet cloth, the same one he used to wipe off the dried blood.

your actions made seungcheol chuckle, his eyes glued to every little detail that you did.

“alright princess, i’ll be good.” he replied, another chuckle escaping from his lips.

————————————————————————

you treated his injuries pretty quickly, while he took the moment to order some food for the both of you to eat.

after all, after a day of fighting and torture, the least the both of you could do was to eat.

and the food came pretty quickly, with the both of you sitting on the couch in the room, with a movie playing in the background, cuddled in each other’s arm, while eating the fried chicken from your favourite restaurant.

taking a piece of chicken, seungcheol placed the meat at your mouth, waiting for you to eat it.

“say ahh~” seungcheol cooed, making you giggle, as you at the chicken.

“i’ll never believe how the most powerful mafia in this country is the softest person when it came to his girlfriend.” you teased, placing your head on his chest.

seungcheol chuckled, his fingers running through your hair, while he admired your facial features.

“well, although you had the mafia boss wrapped around that little finger of yours, you should know that you are in fact, the safest person that anyone can be on this planet, when you’re with me.”

.

.

.

.

.

bonus:

seungcheol walked into the warehouse, seeing that jeonghan and joshua has already tied alex up on the chair, the same chair you sat on yesterday.

“p-please let me go! i’m so sorry for kidnapping y/n let me go please..” alex begged, his eyes desperate and pleading.

seungcheol only let out a mocking laugh, his hand twirling the gun in his hand around.

“y/n shared with me everything that you did, now let’s do the punishment according, shall we?” seungcheol looked at jeonghan and joshua, who gave a knowing, yet menacing smile.

“should’ve known before you kidnapped the girlfriend of the most powerful mafia.” joshua said, while trying to hold back his laughter.

“and trying to win her back? you’re pathetic, even for a normal human being.” jeonghan added, while cracking his knuckles.

seungcheol walked closer to alex, his eyes eyeing down at the man, who seemed smaller, and more afraid, making him laugh once again.

“let’s make it quick and easy. i need to get back to my love. where should we start?”

[cinnawonbabe]

Please Me

pairings ❀ sex therapist heeseung x patient fem!reader ft treasure jaehyuk

warnings ❀ doctor x patient, mentions of cheating, alcoholism, depression, verbal abuse, mentions of DV, toxic relationship, smut, oral(fem receiving), secret affairs etc etc

overview ❀ y/n and jaehyuk’s relationship was going into shambles. they fought constantly and her needs weren’t met. the arguments got worse and worse as days dragged on. y/n decided to talk to a therapist about her relationship problems and heeseung had a solution for her every needs.

taglist🏷️: @nayeoniiz @hoonielvv @riqomi

Not Proofread!! PLEASE ENJOY!

the sound of yelling and glass shattering filled the small one bedroom apartment. causing a disturbance to their fellow neighbors. that’s going to be another complaint for the fifth time this week.

“you never fucking listen to me! you’re always out with your home boys or on that damn game!” y/n screamed as she smashed the living room tv with her fists, drawing blood from them as shards of the glass sliced into her fingers and knuckles. the pain was unbearable but in the heat of the moment, she couldn’t have care less.

jaehyuk watched from behind her with a look of disbelief apparent on his face. he couldn’t believe his eyes for one second. he couldn’t handle another one of her manic episodes right now as he sat on the couch with his headset on and gaming controller in hand. suddenly rage took over, his face burning red as he watched y/n destroy the only peace he had in this hellhole. four years of them being together and never had he ever felt so much aggression towards her.

he got up from the couch, taking his gaming set off and sitting on the table in front of him before heading back to their shared bedroom.

enraged by his sudden lack of care, y/n followed after him screaming at him, “where do you think you’re going, huh?! answer me!” she grabbed his arm, trying to drag him back out but he was far too strong as kept pushing her off. y/n’s frustration continued, her blood boiling. he never listens. never wants to hear how she feels. it’s always about him. he goes and spend his time with his friends or he’s always playing the game. its like her existence never really mattered to her. four years of being together and its all the same. she couldn’t contain it anymore and started punching him in his chest. he stood there taking the hits, letting her get her frustration out for a bit until a punch landed in his face, causing his head to turn. blood poured out from his mouth, his lip was busted. the room grew silent as she watched his take his hand and wipe his lip. his face read an expression she couldn’t quite understand but it scared her. his eyes darkened and her heart began to race.

he took a step forward causing her to take a step back to to keep space between them but he continued to push forward until he backed her into a corner closing the gap between the two. he had her trapped. before she could process anything she watched him raise a hand as if to hit her, she closed her eyes and waited for him to hit her back. she flinched upon heaing a loud thud next to her. she opened her eyes to see he had punch the wall behind her, his hand mere inches away from her face. “you know what? i’ve tried to learn to love you but i just can’t.” he spoke lowly but truthfully. there was a point in time where he did love her but with time, things come to an end eventually. when the arguments started to get worse he tuned her out and eventually fell out of love. he stayed because he didn’t want to let those years go to wast but he couldn’t stay any longer.

hearing those words leave his mouth felt like her world fell apart in front of her. he was right there in her face yet fell so far and unattainable. tears brimmed in her eyes as he stared at her, not one ounce of remorse for her. she felt so much smaller than she was.

jaehyuk laughed bitterly at her as she silently sobbed in front of him, “now you wanna play innocent? you constantly scream and beat on me all day everyday and i do nothing but now you wanna cry?” he said truthfully. y/n tried to free herself from being cornered but he wouldn’t budge, keeping her from running away this time around. he wanted it to be known that he was done with her. this relationship was the reason why he wasn’t happy. she turned her attention away from him, she couldn’t face to look at him any longer as her heart shattered. jaehyuk grabbed her face, forcing her to look at him. he stared at her, watching the tears stream down her face, snot dripping down her nose. “you want to know why i’m never home? i fucked your best friend giselle, she treats me better than you ever could,” he said coldly, his words felt like daggers to her heart. she blacked out, not knowing what to do next, in that moment of time she felt like she was in a bubble, suffocating in her own thoughts of self pity.

she watched as he removed himself from her, walking to the bedroom, presumably to gather his things and leave. she stood in the same spot, letting things unfold in her mind, replaying them over and over again. and with that, he left and never came back. her life ended that night. she didn’t understand why. just why couldn’t he have tried but it was far too late now.

month went by and y/n never left her home besides from going to work but even then her coworkers noticed a shift in her demeanor. that bubbly person everyone knew and love was gone. she was heartbroken. her mind clouded by the memories of him and his words forever echoed in her mind.

after finding out her best friend betrayed her, she cut off ties, blocking them both on everything. she wanted nothing left to do with either of them.

she spent her days alone at home, drowning herself with alcohol to numb her pain as she scrolled through social media. she paused on a particular add for a therapist, not really reading much into it and clicked on it. it took her to a website where she could book appointment for a session. she signed up immediately and booked her appointment for the next day not thinking too much about it. eventually she passed out asleep, succumbing to the drowsy effects of the liquor she was drinking on.

she woke up around noon with a killer migraine. she knew she was hungover bad but she didn’t care. she pushed herself out of the bed and dragged her aching body to the bathroom where she stared out at herself in the mirror. she was in terrible shape. eyes puffy, face blotchy, her hair unkempt, he hadn’t showered in almost two weeks since the breakup. she hated herself for letting herself go even though she knew he didn’t feel the same.

she was absolutely devastated about herself and decided it was time for a change. she prepared for a shower,she wasn’t going to let this break up ruin her life.

she undressed herself from the clothes that reeked of body odor and booz and stepped into the shower, letting the steaming hot water run down her body. it was relaxing and refreshing feeling the water droplets bounce off her skin. she stood under the shower head and let the water drench her hair. she soon washed up in her favorite whipped vanilla body wash and shampoo. scrubbing her body of every memory of jaehyuk and wiping it from her mind. she wanted to forget that man. she wanted nothing more to do with him. she wanted peace.

she rinsed her body off and hair off and stepped out the shower, wrapping her body in her silky robe and towel drying her hair. she stood at the sink and wiped the fog off her mirror so she could finish getting herself together by washing her face with her favorite skincare products and brushing her teeth before heading to her room to get dressed.

as she was about to head into her closet her phone rang on the side of her bed. who could that me? she thought to herself.

she walked over and looked at the caller ID and it was a number she didn’t recognize but nonetheless she answered it.

y/n: hello?

called ID: hello may i speak with y/n?

y/n: speaking

caller ID: hello y/n i’m jake with love affairs therapy. i’m dr heeseung’s assistant and i’m calling to remind you of your appointment with him today at 2:30pm. are you still available or would you like to reschedule?

y/n went silent on the other end. she was dumbfounded. an appointment for what? she doesn’t remember setting an appointment for anything.

caller ID: ma’am are you still there?

y/n: yes yes i’m still here sorry i spaced out for a moment

caller ID: no worries at all! so you still available or would you like to reschedule?

y/n: i’m available! i will be there

caller ID: great! you will be receiving a text message with the address and a confirmation code to use upon arrival if you want the first session to be free!

y/n: sounds great! see you soon!

caller ID: of course and you have a great day ma’am.

and with that the call ended. she still doesn’t know how she got herself into this situation but she has a feeling that drunk her decided to take things into her own hands.

as on que she received the text message and looked up the address. it was a thirty minute drive. she checked the time to see it was now 1:56pm. fuck! she wasn’t going to make it on time if she didn’t leave now. she hurriedly got dress in leggings and a loose fitted hoodie and threw on her slip on vans before going all her belonging and rushing out her small apartment to her car. she quickly typed the address into GPS and started her route to the building.

the drive there was relaxing. the music playing helped calm her nerves a bit. maybe seeing a therapist is all that she needed since she’s been sulking about the breakup.

she finally arrived and parked her car right in front of the building. it didn’t look odd or anything, just a normal building to her. she took a deep breath and gave herself a little pep talk. you can do this. it’s just one free session, what’s the worst that could happen? she thought to herself.

she finally got out of her car and headed inside the building. upon entering, all she could see was a desk area where a male receptionist sat behind as soon as she walked through the door. she looked around and saw a waiting area where a few other people sat as they waited for their appointment. she walked up to the desk to get checked in.

“hi i’m y/f/n and i had an appointment today with dr heeseung!” she said, flashing a small smile. the man behind the desk looked up and she almost froze in her tracks. he was so handsome as if he was sculpted by god’s hands. his raven hair fluffy, flowing down his face and his updo smile as he greeted back made her heart swoon.

“hi ma’am i’m jake! i think we spoke on the phone earlier. fill these out and someone will be right with you!” he said sweetly as he handed her a clipboard with paperwork to fill out. she took it from him, still never taking her eyes off him before she scurried off to find a spot to sit down.

she sat down and filled the papers out, occasionally stealing glances at jake as he sat at his desk. she couldn’t help it. he was breathtakingly handsome. she watched as he typed on his computer before they locked eyes. she immediately looked away as he face grew hot. she’s been caught. how embarrassing. as she was finishing signing the last few paper she had left, a door opened revealing another attractive man. his hair was blonde and fluffy and he almost resembled a cat with big boba eyes. what is this place? she asked herself.

“y/f/n?” the blonde man called out. she instinctively raised her hand, gaining his attention. he flashed her a toothy smile. “hello ma’am i’m jungwon and i’ll be taking you to the room where you’ll have your appointment.” he said, signaling her to follow. she got ip nervously, following after him. maybe she was at the wrong place but how could she be since everything was normal but why was everyone so attractive so far. it felt like a fever dream.

“here i can take those papers for you and get them into our system.” jungwon said holding his hand out to take the clipboard and so she gave them to him. she followed his further down the hallway, making turns here and there until they finally got to room 609.

he opened the door for her to walk in first and she thanked him. as she entered the room there was a little couch and chairs set up as well as a little desk that sat in the corner. “you can have a seat on the couch and he’ll be here shortly but in the meantime would you like anything to drink?” he said walking back towards the door. “a water would be fine.” she said sweetly and he smiled and nodded before leaving her alone in the room.

she studied the room more, looking at all the paintings of abstract art that were hung up. she was so immersed with looking around she didn’t hear the knock on the door or someone walking in either. she looked around some more before turning around to be met with a tall, lean gentleman with red hair walking towards the desk in the room. she screamed from being surprised by the sudden appearance of him which caused him to laugh.

“sorry miss y/n i knocked and didn’t a reply so i let myself in and you were looking at the painting so i didn’t want to interrupt,” he said honestly as he sat at his desk. “so what brings you in today?” he asked, taking his glasses off and loosening his tie. she took this time to sit down in the chair that was situated in front of his desk. she admired his features as she spoke. “i just got out of a toxic long term relationship and just haven’t been myself so i wanted to seek help,” she stated, her eyes tailing over his facial features. his eyes stared deep into hers as they made eye contact for a minute before he started jolting down words onto his notepad, “go on,” he said and so she did. she vented for what felt like forever.

her heart still aching for a man who never cared about her for one bit. tears brimmed in her eyes once more as she spoke. letting her soul pour out as heeseung continued to listen and write into his notepad. “have you tried finding something to keep your mind off him?” he asked and she shook her head. what else could she have possibly done to keep her distracted from the fact that her heart still yearns for him. “well maybe i could help?” he said and stood up from his desk and walked to stand behind her. “is it okay if i may give you a massage?” he asked. she was confused, what kind of therapy session was this? she thought but nonetheless she accepted it.

she felt his big but warming hands on her shoulders, massaging them. the pads of his thumbs had enough pressure to hit the depths of her muscles, easily relaxing her body. she melted into his touch, heaving out a loud sigh. “you’re really good at this,” she complimented and he hummed in response. soon his hands trailed to the back of her neck, hitting all the right spots. she never knew how tense her body was. she was so immense in the massage she didn’t feel his hands trail down to her breast, caressing them ever so gently that it felt too normal.

his hands soon trailed down to the hem of her pants, slowly sliding down into them and he began to rub small circles on her clitoris. a moan escape from her lips, soon bringing her back to reality. she jumped up from her seat, turning to face him as her face was flushed from the certain action. “w-what are you doing?” she asked, hugging herself as she stared at him. he chuckled, a sweet smile on his face as he looked down at her.

how could he be laughing right now? like he didn’t just assault her? what kind of therapist is he? so many thoughts were running in her mind. she didn’t understand what she had gotten herself into. she needed to leave. she was about to walk passed him but was stopped in her tracks. “you have no clue what you signed up for do you?” he said, cutting her off and standing in front of her. her breath hitched in her throat, feeling so small in this moment.

he took a step forward, causing her to step back. that cycled continued until her back hit his desk. he leaned forward, placing both his hands on the sides of her as he cornered her. “you do know what this place is don’t you?” he asked once more, his eyes low and darkened with what she assumed was lust. she watched as he licked his lips and his gaze fall. she looked to where his eyes had wondered and it was towards her breast. she immediately covered herself, earning another chuckle from him. “where am i exactly?” she asked, trying her best to change the subject and find a way to escape from this. “sex therapy,” he said plainly, “did you not read the forms you signed or the website you signed up for?” he said, grabbing her by her waist and hosting her up onto his desk.

she couldn’t believe what she heard. why on earth would she sign up for this? she blames the alcohol. drunk y/n must’ve been horny and out her mind to sign up for something like this. “you’re more than welcome to continue your session or we could end it here,” he added as he stared into her eyes, looking for the answer he would need.

she stared at him for a moment, taking in his features. he was a handsome young lad. she’d be a fool to miss up on this opportunity. fuck it. she thought and grabbed his face and smashed her lips onto his.

they kissed passionately. their lips intertwined with one another. his hands made their way back upon her waist, pulling her closer as he kissed her so hungrily. he bit her bottom lip, gaining a soft whine from y/n. he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into her open caven and explore the wonders of her mouth. their tongues fought for dominance with the sloppiness of their saliva dripping from their mouths, ultimately heeseung won the battle.

his hands soon found their way to the bottom hem of her shirt, in a swift motion he pulled it off her, breaking the kiss to stare at her body. she took this time to catch her breath, her face hot and flustered from their heated makeout sesh. she noticed his eyes were staring at her now exposed body so she covered herself, now feeling a little insecure. heeseung shook his head, removing her arms and placing a small kiss on her forehead, “don’t hide yourself, you’re beautiful baby,” he said softly, making her heart swoon. he took the time to take in in her every features. admiring every inch of her as he thought she was crafted so heavenly just for him to take.

soon he took off his shirt exposing his well defined toned muscular body. her gaze fell down, taking in his physique. his abs defined and scrumptious to look at and his toned muscular arms and hands were just a treat. she wanted him to absolutely wreck her. her eyes soon trail down to his crotch, seeing the ever growing bulge that was prominent in his pants, asking to be let free. she took this time to rub his erection through his pants, earning herself a groan out of him. she watched as his lustful eyes darkened with a desire that she could not resist.

he stripped her out of the rest of her clothes, leaving her bare as she sat on his desk. the cold air from the room sent chills down her spine.

she watched as he kneeled down in between her legs, now at eye level with her dripping core. “already wet and we barely did anything,” he said, his voice low and deep. she couldn’t help but give in. this was a once and a lifetime opportunity for her to get her guts rearranged by someone as handsome as he was and he wanted it just as much. even though she knew deep down that this was his job to do, she couldn’t help but to think that he was all for her because in this very moment it felt so surreal.

he began to place chastise kissed on her inner thighs, nipping at the skin here and there as he left love bites all over them. teasingly making his way to her dripping core but never touching her there. her whines became uncontrollable, she desperately wanted to be touched oh so badly. “please..” she muttered at, eyes brimming with tears as she pleased with the man. he looked up at her, seeing the effect he had on her only boosted his ego even more. “beg for it.” he said sharply, now rubbing small circles onto her clitoris just enough to edge her on but not enough to give her full control. she started to grind against his hand, heeseung laughed sinisterly, removing his hand as she cried out from the lost of contact. “you’re not getting it that easily baby, i said beg for it.” he stated with a strictness in his voice that made her wanted him even more than before.

she caved in, letting her pride aside and begged for it. “please touch me… daddy fuck my tight little cunt please!” she pleaded, crying for his touch. a sly smile appeared on his face, satisfied from what he had heard, “as you wish.” and with that, he answered her plea. he licked slowly between her folds up, his tongue darting in and out of her cunt and lapping up all her juices that dare threaten to spill out. her hands travel to his red locks, grabbing a handful as she holds him closer. she felt elastic, feeling his tongue fuck her pretty little cunt.

he devoured her like she was his last meal. eating her out with such delight. he took two of his digits, plunging them deep inside of her, curling them with every thrust, hitting all the right spots.

she threw her head back in pleasure as he continued to please her, making her toes curl. she felt a familiar sensation in the pit of her stomach, the squelching sounds of him finger fucking her and him sucking loudly on her cunt along with her uncontrollable moans feeled the room. how does he even know how to do this. she has never been ate out like this before, not even by her ex boyfriend jaehyuk. this sensation was unfamiliar with her, she couldn’t hold it any longer as he fucked into her much harder now, his fingers massaging a certain spot in her she didn’t even know was their. he body slowly grew weak from the overwhelming pressure that built up from all this pleasure she was receiving. her more grew more and more incoherent with every moment of him worshiping her and giving her just what he knew she need, a good fuck to take her mind off things.

heeseung looked up at her, watching how close he was getting her. his pants grew tight, his erection hurting from being so confined in his trousers. “cum for me,” he said and she did exactly that, screaming as she came undone in his mouth. he gagged a bit as her squirt hit the back of his throat but nonetheless he didn’t stop until her body gave out and fell onto his desk.

she laidback there a moment, never moving as she tried to regain herself from being overstimulated. he stood up and watched as she took a moment to catch her breath. “how. did. you. even. know. to. do. that.” she said in between breaths as she collected herself. “i just know how to please a woman, that’s all. but we’re not done yet. we still have ten minutes to spare,” he said, she pushed herself up onto her elbows to meet his gaze only to be met with his lower half exposed. she watched as he stroked his big and girthy member. her eyes widen, there was absolutely no way that he was going to fit that monster of a cock inside of her. “what’s with the face, are you scared?” he asked, stroking his erection. she shook her head no, she accepted the challenge and who knows, she’ll probably like it. “good girl now bend over that desk for me,” he said sternly and she obliged. she got up and stood before him, soon turning around with her back facing him as bent over his desk. he smirked at how obedient she was. he liked this, usually his patients never lasted this long but she was a different breed and he loved every moment of it. he then spat onto his hands and stroked it on his throbbing cock before aligning himself with her entrance. she braced herself for what was to come, her hands gripping onto the edge of his desk as she felt his cock tap her cunt a few times before he slowly entered her.

her face scrunched up in pain as she felt his tip finally slid in. he sucked in a breathed as her cunt sucked him in. he took his time with her, slowly inching his member in and giving her time to adjust to his size until he was fully inside her. he waited a moment, not moving as he didn’t want to hurt her and to give her time to get use to the stretch.

her insides her a little as his cock stretched her tight little cunt open. she felt every inch of his girthy member inside her as her walls contracted around him. “p-please move,” she whispered out and so he did. he slowly but sure pull out enough, leaving just the tip in before plunging back into her at a decent pace. that went on for a few minutes until her heard her moan, indicating that she was okay and he could up the pace.

he began to fuck into harder and deeper, each thrust earning a scream fro her as she felt him member hit that familiar spot again. her walls contracted with each thrust, hugging his member tightly. she couldn’t help but feel that overwhelming feeling again, but this time she let loose, squirting as she felt his tip abuse her gspot. the sound of wetting squelching noises and skin clapping filled the room once more. she felt so good around him and he couldn’t even deny it. this was by far the best cunt he’s ever been in and it drove him crazy.

he dugged into her like crazy, he didn’t even know what had came over him but he just went bonkers. he pulled her close to him, grabbing her by her neck and choking her as he fucked her standing up. she cried out in pleasure. why does this feel so good. she thought.

“fuck! you’re so fucking wet for me baby. look at you squirting all over daddy’s dick. you like that don’t you?” he growled into her ears. she couldn’t help herself but to gasp as the grip on her neck tightened. she was loving every second of this. she didn’t care that she was losing oxygen in this moment because alk she could think about was the feeling of him fucking her so good.

heeseung soon felt him coming to his climax, he was a few stroke away from coming undone. he pushed her back onto the desk, and hammered his fat cock into her as her body went limp and her moans were now just shots of breaths as she tried so hard to catch a breath but found it difficult as he was rearranging her insides. “fuck i’m going to cum.” he moaned out, his thrusts getting sloppy as he was about to explode. he pulled out and stroked his member, his cum shooting all over her ass cheeks and he finally came undone.

he checked his watch, seeing that their session was now over. “times up. lets get you all cleaned and ready to go.” he said, walking around his desk and reaching inside to grab towels and wipes that were conveniently placed there. he walked back to her as she laid still and began to clean her up. she didn’t know how to feel in this very moment. it was like she changed into a whole new person, completely forgetting why she came here in the first place.

once she was all cleaned, he helped her get dress before tending to himself. “do you do this with all your patients?” she asked, laughing a bit as he helped her put her pants back on. “no actually, i’ve never gotten this far. they’re usually tapped out after i eat them out, you’re the first to go all way through.” he answered honestly. some part of her hoped that it was true because now she has found herself falling for a man she doesn’t even know.

“oh well i’m glad i did haha it was nice, thank you.” she smiled, now grabbing her belongings to prepare to leave. she was about to head to the door but was stopped by him grabbing her hand. she turned around to face him but was taken aback when she felt his lips onto hers. she melted into his kiss, soon wrapping her arms around his neck before he pulled away. “a little something for the road and here’s my card, you should call me sometime,” he said, handing her his business card. she smiled and took it happily. “oh i’m definitely calling you later.” she said as they both laughed together. “well i should get going then, i guess i’ll talk to you later?” she said, the last part being a question because she wasn’t sure if she should or not. “you better and be safe. text me and let me know you made it safely.” he said and with that smiled and made her way out of his office and out the building. who would have known that a silly ole breakup would lead her into the arms of another man.

[otakpocky131522]

May I humbly offer: Tommy in the hospital after a minor accident and has amnesia but it takes them a little bit to notice because Buck accidentally said something flirtatious and Tommy decided to roll with the unexpected gift of a hot man flirting with him and everything seemed like business as usual:

This is his last straw. Buck is 100% banning basketball after today. If Tommy even thinks about touching another basketball, Buck is going to pin him down and use any number of his newfound, persuasive skills to keep Tommy safe and in their bed.

“Come on Buck, we said we’re sorry. How long will it take for you to forgive us?” Chimney pleads from where he’s lying in the hospital bed next to Tommy’s.

“It really was an impressive series of freak accidents. Almost enough to make me believe in curses.” Eddie very-much-not helpfully chimes in.

“See, even the non-believer is wising up. We were being extremely careful! And nothing like this is going to happen in the future.”

“Oh, we all know nothing like this is going to happen in the future. You’re all fools if you think Buck’s leaving you children unsupervised again.” There. Just the voice of wisdom Buck needs to hear, coming from Athena as she walks in with Bobby, Hen, and Karen, joining the party Maddie, Buck, and Eddie had formed around Chimney’s bed as soon as visiting hours started.

“You promised,” Buck finally manages to get out. “You and Eddie took my fiancé out for a short, harmless game to finalize the plans for his bachelor party and you promised me no injuries this close to the wedding. You specifically said at least one Buckley needs to avoid a hospital wedding.”

“Eh. Maybe Jee will manage it.”

“Howard Han-”

“I’m sorry!”

Buck is too antsy to sit, too filled with worry to allow himself any rest, and too overwhelmed to keep up the conversation any longer. He’s been standing at the foot of Chim’s bed, Eddie keeping a steadying grip on his elbow, while his own fingers have been tapping a relentless beat — one, two, one-two-three — just to keep some corner of his mind focused. Before starting each series of taps over, he lets his eyes memorize every inch of Tommy’s face again, hoping this time will be the one where he opens his eyes. It hasn’t worked so far.

He knows he can’t really blame anyone for this. It really was such a strange set of events that landed everyone here last night. Apparently, there’d been a bad fumble, some severe lack of coordination on someone’s part, and a stray basketball ending up in just the right place to send Chimney tripping and falling on the court, somehow crashing into Tommy, and somehow ending up with Tommy whacking his head on the pole of the basketball hoop. EMS brought them to the hospital, Tommy all in one piece but very much unconscious while Chimney ended up with a sprained ankle and a newly broken arm. Eddie, miraculously, ended up completely unscathed. That is, until he had to call Buck and Maddie and they tore into him in the hospital waiting room, fueled by panic, worry, and Buck’s anger over the broken promises.

After an 8 hour wait in the lobby, they’d been let in to visit with the rest of the 118 family who could make it. Since Chimney had hit his head in the fall, they’d decided to keep him for observation and he got to stay in the room with Tommy to make them easier to monitor.

Buck is sure he’d be able to find the humor in everything like his upbeat friend in his gauzy hospital gown if Tommy had regained consciousness even once since the fall. Deep down, he knows Chim is feeling guilty but trying to stay positive for Buck, which he definitely appreciates! But after the vigil he’d kept — sitting right beside Tommy until visiting hours ended, alternating between holding his hand and gently readjusting his blankets and pillows to keep him comfortable — Buck really can’t find it in him to match his mood. If he had to keep sitting beside Tommy’s bed and fruitlessly hoping for some change, he was going to try and crawl right out through the hospital’s vents. Hence, standing guard at the foot of Chimney’s bed instead while leaning on Eddie for support.

Instead of speaking, he lets the comforting presence of his family rearranging chairs and settling in wash over him while he keeps tapping away on the railing, eyes checking over Tommy, and wandering back to Chimney.

One sweep, two sweeps: no change. Back to Hen roasting Chimney for something. Three sweeps: no change. Back to Chimney, indignantly trying and failing to defend his honor. Four sweeps: was that his eyes fluttering open? Nope. False alarm. Back to Athena and Maddie teaming up against Chimney, holding his attention for a miraculous 2 minutes. Five sweeps: blue eyes, amused scrunch-y smile, slight tension in his shoulders that always means Tommy has a headache. Back to Bobby mediating —

Wait. Scrunch-y smile? Buck swiftly turns towards Tommy, mind caught between a swirl of relief (he’s awake), joy, relief (he’s awake), irrational panic, bone-numbing amounts of relief (he’s actually awake), and his breath caught by that gorgeous smile that he’s always been so weak for. Embarrassingly, the first words he can manage are, “Well hello there, handsome,” his relief putting an odd emphasis on the hello and coming across unintentionally like a line.

Tommy looks so achingly surprised and flattered and Buck can feel his heart fluttering, even before Tommy responds.

“Can’t imagine I look all that great based on how I feel. Maybe you should raise your standards. But you, on the other hand, you look stunning.”

That cannot be true when he’s in Tommy’s favorite hoodie, which is the oldest in his collection, faded and worn out sweatpants he probably stole from Eddie at some point, had barely managed 30 minutes of sleep, and his hair is in utter disarray from how often he’s anxiously toyed with it, but Buck can’t help the smile that blooms on his face. He really should ask some serious questions, especially since Tommy honestly looks a little loopy, but he can’t help but let himself enjoy this brief period of uncomplicated fun.

“Well, hey, uh maybe you’re the one who should raise his standards. If you promise to take me on a nice date though, you can see how well I clean up.”

Tommy lets out a brief, startled laugh, that he clearly regrets when it makes his headache worse. But he rallies enough to respond, “That might be a little difficult, since it seems I’m currently bed-bound. But I wouldn’t mind a little company up here instead.“

“Excuse you, I am not that easy.” Buck valiantly ignores the, frankly rude, disbelieving glances being thrown his way. “But you can try your luck after they let you out. What are you doing Saturday?” he asks, cheeky grin on full display.

Tommy gives him a slow, butterfly-inducing once over before, “Well, hopefully - ”

“Okaaaay, please keep it PG for the sake of my medically fragile constitution,” Chimney loudly interjects.

“Sorry Howie. Lovely to see you too by the way. That cast really brings out your eyes.”

“Flattery will not get you out of this Kinard. But nice to see you conscious and healthy so a certain someone can cancel that hit they put out on me.”

Before Chimney and Buck can devolve into a playful squabble, Hen adds, “You know, other people came to see you too, Tommy.”

“Oh! Hi Hen!” Tommy clearly only manages to place her by her voice, based on the way he squints, trying to see past Chim’s bed before quickly giving up and closing his eyes. “Care to explain the damage? And how it happened in the first place?”

“Hey, I’m a paramedic too, why didn’t you think to ask me?”

“Considering you’re the dummy in the bed next to me, you’ve clearly lost all qualifications to speak. Also, she’s smarter than both of us combined.”

“You know, flattery just might get you out of this after all. Glad someone still has sense in this room.”

As Tommy settles in to rest and listen to all the banter on Chimney’s side of the room — uncharacteristically not giving Buck even a quick glance or his usual, quietly pleased grin over how well he fits into this family, even after all this time — Buck gets hit with a sickening thought. This is Tommy, who mainly used flirty one liners to ease his way into difficult conversations nowadays, but used to flirt to avoid giving away anything real. Tommy, who loved to compliment Hen — mainly for the way it made her happy, but partially in penance for the years he contributed to making her feel small — but now seems to be taking advantage of the way her witty remarks shifts the attention away from him. Like he knew he could use it as a deflection…

Buck had already zoned out of the conversation, but now he couldn’t follow it if he tried with all the ringing in his ears. Trembling, he pulls Eddie closer with the hand on his shoulder that he’s been using for support and interrupts, “Hey, Tommy?”

The way Tommy is startled by all the eyes shifting to Buck, then following Buck’s gaze over to him is not encouraging. The fact that Tommy seems surprised that Buck is still paying attention to him at all is worse.

“Um, do you - do you remember our names,” he asked, gesturing between him and Eddie with a weak, shaky hand.

Cue the confused silence. He just knows Eddie is looking at him with concern, knowing enough of Buck’s tells to know that he’s rattled, but not seeming to share Buck’s bone-deep knowledge that something is very wrong here. And he can’t even get his mouth to cooperate enough to explain beyond this question.

‘Please, please, please let me be wrong. The hospital room is just throwing him off. He’s rarely been stuck overnight in the ER after all. Just one more minute to adjust, and things will be fine.’

A laugh bursts out from somewhere in the room, followed by Chim asking, “What do you mean Buckaroo? After all that flirting you two lovebirds just subjected us to-“

“Uh…no? I’m sorry, have we met on a call? I promise, I’m usually better at remembering names. Can we chalk this one up to me being injured?”

Dead silence. This is officially the worst moment of his life. Buck feels so abandoned by his senses — the ringing of his ears getting louder and drowning out his hearing, eyes filling with a blur of colors and blocking out his vision — that he can’t even tell how he’s reacting. He can’t tell if he is on the verge of tears or standing stoically, if he’s already been crying or has collapsed under the dead weight of his disconnected limbs and his grief.

Distantly, he feels Eddie wrapping him up in a hug and tapping out his one, two, one-two-three rhythm for him on his hand, until he remembers how to be a person long enough to breathe. Slowly, the ringing recedes just in time to hear, “Well fuck.”

Yeah. Maybe he would have preferred the hospital wedding after all.

[velvet4510]

Contrary to what is apparently popular belief, I think Jason Isaacs’ portrayal of Lucius Malfoy’s behavior toward Draco lines up very well with what we know of Lucius in the books.

Some say book Lucius would never smack Draco with his cane. But someone as prideful and egotistic and nasty and full of conservative expectations as Lucius would undoubtedly have his behavior toward his son dictated by the “boys don’t cry” mentality. He has a firm idea of who Draco should be that he wants Draco to fit, when actually the real Draco doesn’t fit it. He projects his hopes for a “proper heir” onto Draco so much that it’s inevitably easy for Draco to disappoint him, which probably adds to Draco’s inner turmoil that manifests as bullying at school.

When Draco cries in the bathroom over having to kill Dumbledore, it’s clear that he’s actually a very sensitive person who feels things deeply and, unlike Lucius, has a conscience - Moaning Myrtle confirms this - but having a father as cold as Lucius has caused him to bury and suppress his emotions. The cool, emotionless, ruthless persona he puts on in front of the school, especially Harry and his friends, is just that: a persona. A facade, so he can be more like his father and not disappoint him.

With all that context in mind, I don’t think it’s much of a stretch to assume that book Lucius would smack Draco once in a while when fearing Draco was showing signs of “weakness” or “jeopardizing the family image.” (But never in Narcissa’s presence; she’d put him in the ground if she knew he ever hit their son and he’s well aware of that.)

Plus, it must be remembered that the books are told almost entirely from Harry’s POV. Just because Harry never sees Lucius raise a hand against Draco doesn’t mean that’s never happened.

Yes, Lucius loves his son in his own way, and no, he wouldn’t beat Draco to a pulp or even leave visible marks on him. But he’s definitely not above the occasional slap.

Just because Lucius spoils Draco doesn’t mean he remotely deserves any Father of the Year awards. Isaacs had very good instincts as an actor in how he brought Lucius to life.

[ashwhowrites]

Hello hello my wonderful friend!

I’m not sure if you’ve done one of this trope before, you’ve written so many so it wouldn’t surprise me! But this may be a little different? I’d like to request sex pollen trope with Eddie and then some miscommunication and angst with a happy ending. ❤️❤️

I was thinking maybe they’re in the upside down and some weird plant/mist/etc down there does it? Or honestly it doesn’t have to be so literal. Whatever way to get the sex pollen effect you like best. But basically the whole older group is affected, whatever happens with the others is off-screen. Reader and Eddie have both been in love with each other forever but she doesn’t think Eddie likes her back and Eddie thinks she’s way beyond his league and wouldn’t ever want him. The sex pollen happens and then after when the group is embarrassed and getting ready to move past it a few comments are made by the others like “I’d never have done that in my right mind” or like joking comments about “let’s forget this ever happened”, “my eyes - I need bleach!” Basically trying to make light of it and move past it. And Eddie makes some kind of joking comment as well, sure that reader is mortified to have done that with her best friend. Reader is devastated because she hoped that it might have meant something and that he’d meant what he’d said to her during as much as she had meant what she said to him. She distances herself from Eddie which upsets him but he understands (thinks it’s because of the pollen stuff, not his comment). He’s talking to Steve about it one day, unsure what to do to fix it and Steve is confused. Apparently the others (minus Jonathon and Nancy or whoever you prefer to ship as an established couple) all just touched themselves with the exception of the established couple. The pollen didn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to do, it just made you crazy horny and more uninhibited. It also didn’t make anyone else say things, or compel them to say things. They were in control completely. Cue realization. Eddie goes to reader, confronts her (“did you mean what you said?”), she’s like please don’t do this, you said yourself *insert joking comment*. He reveals what he learned from Steve. Reader is embarrassed and blushing but realizes Eddie said some things during too. Actual confessions happen, happy ending, tears and kisses.

I feel like I did an awful job of explaining but don’t feel like you have to stick exactly to that mess above. I just wasn’t sure how else to describe the idea I’m going for? I’m just wanting the Ash spin on sex pollen trope that has your signature delicious miscommunication angst and then happy ending. Full creative control is yours obviously and I’ll be happy with it because you wrote it and you’re my fave 🥰

My first take on sex pollen trope so 🤞🏻 I hope I do it justice. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting ❤️

Mysterious plant

⚠️smut

It was summer break, Y/N, Robin and Eddie just graduated, Nancy and Steve needed a break from the work life, so they all decided to take a camping trip. They packed all their stuff into Eddie's van and hit the road before sundown.

The trip was everything they needed. Time in the sun, time away from responsibilities, and a whole lot of drugs and alcohol. They only spent a few nights there, before they headed back. None knowing they were bringing something back with them.

"Yo, is this poisonous?" Eddie asked as he reached forward to touch a strange looking plant.

"Don't touch it!" Y/N warned him, slapping his hand away. She looked down at the plant, truly having no idea what it was.

"Nothing I've seen before. But we are in the woods so we probably shouldn't touch it," Nancy said as she looked down at it.

They all surrounded it as they looked at it. A gust of wind came and ripped the roots right out of the ground. The dirt flew up and made them cough as it filled their nose.

"Welp, at least it's dead now," Robin said as she coughed. The strange plant caused them to cough for a good few minutes as they packed everything up.

As Eddie drove them back, he felt a little funky. His body was getting really warm and he could feel himself sweating.

"Is anyone else hot?" Y/N asked from the passenger seat. She cranked up the AC.

"Yes," Steve groaned as he uncomfortably shifted in his spot in the back. Nancy and Robin groaned in agreement.

Eddie couldn't help but speed as the air continued to get thick and hot.

~

"Finally!" Eddie groaned as he walked into his trailer. He quickly tore off his shirt, throwing it in the bathroom as he walked to his room.

Y/N ran a towel under the sink, putting it on her forehead as she tried to soak in the cold water. She closed her eyes as she took deep breaths. She heard Eddie walking around and the sound of him running the sink. She kept her eyes shut as she focused on not getting sick from how overheated she was.

Eddie splashed the water on his face, letting the droplets run down his naked chest. His mind was blank as all he could feel was how hot he felt.

He turned off the sink, quickly tying his hair up. "You want to change? I've got some boxers you can throw on," he asked. For the first time since leaving, he looked at her.

And this different feeling ran through his body. A shiver up his spine. He always had the hots for her, it was obvious she was attractive. But he'd never make a move on his best friend. Not after all the years they spent together and the friendship they created. He knew he had feelings for her, but his body was practically aching as he looked at her.

She opened her eyes to answer him, words stuck in her throat as he stood in just boxers. She gulped as her body seemed to have a mind of its own. She felt her face burn as she shifted, feeling a pool of wetness between her thighs. She knew for a fact it wasn't because of the heat.

She had a thing for Eddie for years. Started as a little schoolgirl crush and developed into something much more when they both went through puberty. He grew into his body and she's been dealing with falling in love with her best friend for a while now.

Eddie was nowhere near the type to be in a relationship. So, she figured not to bother wishing on a star he'd feel the same. She was always so good at keeping her composure, which is why she was shocked that she couldn't form words as he stared at her.

He must have felt something too. Because the longer they stared at each other, the longer their bodies craved each other.

"Uh, sure," she finally got out. She pushed herself away from the counter and walked to his room.

Eddie didn't feel in control of his own body as he followed her. He was a nice guy, he knew to give her privacy. But it was like he had no choice, in a trance as he walked in. She could feel his eyes on her, and she loved it. Normally, she would push him out but something in her wanted him to watch her.

She turned as her body smacked into his. She gasped as she could easily feel his hard cock against her. She looked into his eyes as she stripped off her shirt. She held her breath when his hands wrapped around her, palms against her back as he slid up and unhooked her bra.

She didn't feel nervous or self-conscious as the material fell to the floor. His hands skimmed to her hips, holding her softly. All his mind was focused on was the burning heat in his stomach and the throbbing of his cock. He wasn't worried about it being his best friend, he wasn't taking the time to be in awe of her naked chest in front of him, he needed to fuck her.

The only thing both of them could think about.

He was fast as he smashed his lips on hers. The simple kiss brought moans out of them as they gripped each other. The kiss was messy and desperate, trying to relieve the sexual tension they felt. But it only edged them on. Their tongues danced with each other as he pushed her down on his bed, keeping his mouth on hers.

She rubbed her thighs together, the amount of wetness she felt was indescribable. She had never been this wet before. She could physically feel her cunt throbbing and her clit ache to be touched.

When he pulled away, a line of spit connected them from his lips to hers. His eyes bored into hers and it was as they were communicating without words.

In quick movements, they stripped each other. Their hands were fast and uncoordinated as they tried to feel every inch of each other.

Her hands burned as they ran up his chest and then down his back. The feeling of his skin drove her insane and she wanted to feel more and more. He shivered as she touched him, his hands moving to her chest.

His cock twitched as he massaged her breasts, fingers rolling her nipples as precum leaked out of him. She thought having his touch would settle the fire in her stomach but it only fueled it more. They both understood there was no reason for foreplay, too impatient as their bodies ached.

Eddie could barely think straight as he shoved himself into her. Loudly moaning in bliss he felt her wrap around him. She whined as she felt him fill her up, wasting no time as she moved her hips.

He pressed his lips against hers as he began to thrust into her. He felt insane as he fucked her as fast and hard as possible. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head as he hit every spot inside of her. Their sweaty bodies rubbed against each other.

He pulled away as he panted into her face. Both had no control as their moans filled up the room. He could feel his toes curling from the way his balls slammed against her. It was something he wanted for so long and it was way better than he imagined.

"More, please. I need more," she whined as she clawed at his back. His body felt perfect against her. She was addicted to every part of him. The smell of sex and sweat made her arch.

She shivered as he laughed. A dark mocking laugh.

"Yeah? Fucking beg for it, slut,"

She figured she'd gasp at his words but all that came out was a loud moan. She should have known he was dominant and rough.

"Fuck. Please! You feel so good. I just need more. I'll take anything just fuck, please, something," she begged.

Eddie kept his focus on fucking her as he reached for his nightstand. He yanked it open, mindlessly searching. Y/N felt her cunt pulse with excitement as he pulled out a small vibrator. She wasn't surprised Eddie would have sex toys hiding somewhere. She tried to make a mental note to look back at the nightstand in the future.

She jolted as he pressed it against her clit, the vibrations adding more pleasure.

"Moan for me, beautiful. I've dreamed of hearing you moan my name," he whispered as he flicked the vibrator on a higher level.

She gasped as her bundles of nerves reacted to the new vibration. She also loved knowing he thought about this before.

"Eddieeeeeee," she moaned as she clawed at his back. Her back arched as she felt herself cumming. She's positive this was a record speed for how quickly she needed to cum. "I need to cum, Eddie."

"Good girl, cum for me, baby. Let me fuck you through it," he encouraged as he allowed himself to get close. "Can I please fill you up?" He begged.

Her eyes rolled in the back of her head as she continued to cum. Her ears loved the sound of his choked begs.

"Yes,"

The second she said it, his stomach snapped. He tossed the vibrator to the side as he used his fingers. She squirmed as her clit burned. Moaning as he continued to fuck her.

"Oh my God, FUCK," she screamed as her cunt grew sensitive. Every thrust and circle pained her as another orgasm started building.

He dropped to his elbows as he gave his final thrusts, hot spurts of cum painting her insides. Both moaning at the feeling.

She figured the heat and burn would disappear, but nothing changed. Her cunt was soaked and now pulsing for more. Eddie noticed it within himself too, his cock already hardening inside of her.

He looked up at her, a sexy smirk as he slowly began to slide himself in and out of her. He watched her face to see how well she'd take him again. And he didn't see a slight bit of discomfort. She moaned, moving her hands down to his chest as she softly clawed.

"I'm not ready to be done with you, can you handle more?" He asked, halting his movements in case she wanted to be done.

"Yes, but I want to ride you," she admitted as she placed her palms against his chest and pushed. He slowly slid out of her.

A huge smile crossed his face as he dropped on his back, wrapping a hand around his cock. He slowly jerked himself as he looked at her. "You're breathtaking."

She blushed as she moved on top of him. She placed her hands on his hairy thighs and sank down on him.

"You'd kill me if you knew how many times I've thought of you in this position," he moaned as she began to bounce on him. He gripped her hips and helped her move her hips.

"I probably should but this feels too good to care," she moaned. Her body was feeling things she had never known before. She couldn't get enough of how amazing he felt inside of her.

He laughed, sitting up as he wrapped his arms around her. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she used the new balance to bounce faster. He sucked on her neck, loving the taste of her sweat. She yanked out his hair, letting his curls fall on his shoulders.

"Why did we never think to do this before?" She asked as she shivered in pleasure. They could've been doing this for years at this point, instead of robbing themselves of how amazing their bodies worked together.

He released her neck as he pulled back to look at her. He was sure it was an in-the-moment comment, but he thought the same thing for months. "Didn't think you'd ever see me that kind of way."

Her hips slowed at the honesty in his voice. Her heart melted for him. She rolled her hips forward as she brought her arms around his neck. The closeness made the moment more passionate as she looked into his eyes. "I see you in the best kind of way."

He smashed his lips on hers, thrusting his hips up to fuck her as she moaned into the kiss

It didn't matter how much they touched each other. Or how deep he was in her. The burning desire for each other wasn't lessening. It was making them want it more and for it to never end.

She rocked her hips against him, feeling a familiar burn in her stomach. Eddie felt every strand of his hair soaked in sweat, sticking to his face.

"Fuck you're so beautiful, so wet, so perfect around me," he praised, biting his lip as he fucked up in her as hard as he could. "I could fuck you for the rest of my life."

Her heart pounded at his words. Breath hitching as she bounced on him. "Yeah? You promise?"

"Is that what you want? To be wrapped around my cock forever?" He whispered as her breath fanned his face. Her body reacted to him by squeezing around him. "Fuck do that again."

She repeated the action, loving how he let out a long moan. "Tell me you want it too," she whispered, her lips inches above his.

"I want you for the rest of my life," he admitted. He shocked himself by saying it but he meant it. "I think I'm in love with you."

She froze on top of him, blinking a thousand times. Did he just admit he was in love with her?

"No, I know I'm in love with you," he corrected. His hands ran up her back, holding the back of her head as he brought her lips against his.

She kissed him back. She moaned into his mouth as his left hand moved down to her clit. She pulled away, smiling in pleasure and bliss.

"I love you too," she confessed. Her forehead was against his as she felt her orgasm building. She rocked her hips against him, soaking in the feeling of his fingers on her clit. "Make me cum."

"My pleasure," he smirked, cockily circling her clit as she began to fall apart.

She felt her stomach burn with the familiar feeling, she leaned down and sank her teeth into his shoulder as she came again. Eddie growled out at the feeling, loving the harsh sting as she broke his skin.

~~~

Eddie woke up to the sound of a phone ringing. He rubbed his eyes as he looked around. His room was a mess, everything scattered everywhere, shit was falling off his walls, and his desk was no longer together properly.

The ringing continued, and Eddie felt a body next to him move. A reminder of who helped him create the mess. He gulped as he looked over at her. She was still asleep, on her stomach as she faced the other direction. He slowly got up, hissing as he stood up straight. A burning sensation ran all over his back, he wrapped his sheet around him and he practically limped as he walked to get the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Eddie. I talked to Robin and Nancy, and we all think something was up with that plant. We are going to meet up to talk about it, can we meet at your place? Call Y/N too," Steve said. Eddie agreed to meet them and hung up.

He walked towards his room, Y/N awake as she held a blanket around her body as she looked for her clothes.

"Morning, um, Steve wants us to meet here to talk about something," back to his shy self, Eddie turned around to give her privacy.

"Okay, yeah. Just gonna go get ready!" She squealed as she gathered her clothes and ran towards the bathroom. Once the door slammed, Eddie changed into new clothes. His body was sore which made everything harder, he was curious if her body was in any pain.

He held his shirt in his hand, waiting for her to exit the bathroom.

"Oh! You um, still are...not dressed," she said as she awkwardly tried not to look at his naked heavily marked chest. She felt her face burn as she saw all the hickies and scratch marks.

"Yeah, I kinda need help with my back. Could you put this on me?" He stood up and handed her the small tube of ointment. She gasped as he turned, his back far worse than his chest.

"Oh fuck, is it bad?" He asked upon hearing her gasp. She was embarrassed for what she left behind, but also enjoyed having her mark all over him.

"Just a lot of them. This might sting," she warned as she began to rub the ointment along his skin.

Just like that, the same fire burned in his stomach as she touched him. But this time, his brain was awake and active. Making him think logically that whatever happened yesterday only happened because of that damn plant.

He couldn't get excited by the feeling of her hands rubbing his back. Or how her breath hit his skin and made his spine straighten.

After she finished, he turned around. As they stared at each other, the air got thicker. She blew out a nervous breath.

"Can we talk quickly? I want to talk about some things we said last night." She asked

"Maybe after?" Eddie asked, feeling like he needed to throw up. He was nervous about what she wanted to say and he wanted time to deal with it.

"Um, yeah," she nodded. Her stomach turned with anxiety. She didn't want to wait. She wanted to clear the air about what happened and she needed to know how he felt about it. She turned around and walked out to his living room, needing to be out of his room and the aftermath of themselves.

Eddie took a few deep breaths and walked out. He walked to his front door and left it unlocked. He wanted to sit next to her but he felt terrified. So, he sat on the opposite side. Y/N felt the blow to her chest but tried not to show it. They never sat this far apart. The air was awkward as they sat in silence.

A loud commotion came from outside as everyone traveled in. Steve, Robin and Nancy all stood in front of the couch.

Steve awkwardly coughed as he started, "So, Nancy and I did some research about the plant we saw. I'm going to be blunt, I did things I wish I never thought of."

Y/N scrunched her face, uncomfortable with the idea of her friend sleeping with each other.

"I can't even look at myself," Robin laughed as she tried to make light of the situation.

"Moral of the story," Nancy said as she rolled her eyes, "It was a sex pollen plant. And we are moving past it and nothing happened!"

"Sex pollen?" Y/N questioned out loud, "Never heard of it."

Eddie was silent as he listened. It was confirmed that the plant was the reason all of that happened. He knew he wanted to do it because he liked her. But she did it because of the damn pollen.

"Wanna go get food?" Steve asked as he clapped. Everyone nodded, ready to move on from the awkward conversation.

Y/N grabbed Eddie's hand before he walked out, "We still need to talk."

"It was the pollen, it's okay. We can move past it like they all did," he explained. She dropped his hand and accepted his answer. Clearly, there was nothing else behind what happened.

She was absolutely shattered. And it hurt that he refused to talk about it. He admitted he was in love with her and now wanted to pretend it never happened.

~~~

A few weeks passed and Y/N tried to be okay with not expressing how she felt to Eddie. She tried to fake it and return to normal. It seemed everyone else did.

Robin, Nancy, and Steve didn't seem like anything happened between any of them. Y/N was never going to ask for details so she had no idea who got involved with who, and she was fine with not knowing.

Y/N walked up to the small diner as the gang was meeting for breakfast. She walked in and everyone was already sitting. She slid in on the end next to Eddie.

"I wish I could bleach my eyes so I wouldn't have the vision of it anymore," Steve laughed. The table laughed with him and Y/N wasn't sure what the topic was.

"I know. I'm ashamed of my own body. I didn't think it could do all it did," Robin shivered.

"Me too. I feel like I can never go to church again," Nancy groaned as she covered her face.

Y/N figured it was about the recent event they all moved on from, except her.

"All I know is if I see that plant again, I'm walking away because I never want to experience that again. Horrified from that night" Eddie laughed. The table joined in but Y/N felt a kick to her gut.

She hugged herself as she felt embarrassed. Was having hours of sex with her that horrible? She'd be fine to do it all over again but that's where they were different. She was in love with him and he got infected. She meant what she said and confessed, and it was all a joke to him.

"What about you? You haven't said anything about what you did," Steve said as he looked at her. Y/N felt her body burn as everyone turned to look at her.

"I'd prefer not to talk about it," Y/N said. She didn't want to say anything after the horrific comment Eddie made.

Eddie gave her a side glance, slightly relieved she didn't say anything. He was sure she was horrified by what she did with him. And wanted to take back everything she said. Which is why he kept hiding from the conversation he knew she wanted to have.

They accepted her answer, finally moving on from the topic.

~

The second Y/N got home she allowed herself to cry in the comfort of her room. She admitted everything to that boy and he wanted to erase the night from history. She felt crushed and heartbroken.

She should have known Eddie wouldn't touch her that way without a substance. She should have known he wasn't the type to say how he felt and that everything he said wasn't true.

She hated that she was the only one who seemed to have true feelings about what she did. The rest of the gang clearly could move on. Eddie didn't mean anything, and she was stuck feeling everything.

~~~

Y/N had to distance herself a bit from Eddie because everything was still hurting. She couldn't face him knowing she meant everything she said and did. He'd probably laugh in her face if he knew that.

Eddie noticed the distance, but he understood why she needed it. She fucked the freak and now had to deal with the thought of it. He was disappointed that the events ruined their friendship because that's what he was scared of the most. He spent days ignoring how he felt for her so she didn't leave. And now, she is gone.

He went from spending every day with her to nothing at all for two straight weeks. He missed her.

He called Steve over for help, which meant he was desperate.

"Y/N has been a ghost to me for like two weeks. I don't want to rush her or anything, but I mean, we are all in the same boat. We all were infected by that pollen and did things with each other. But you three all moved on like nothing happened. How did you do it? How can I make it easier for her?" Eddie asked question after question.

Steve looked at him, confused, "Wait, did you two sleep with each other? Like as in you and Y/N had sex!"

"I don't understand how you are confused by that," Eddie rolled his eyes, "obviously we had sex otherwise there wouldn't be an issue!"

"Wow," Steve said, a slow smirk forming on his face, "you guys really fucked? Was she any good?"

"I'm about three seconds away from decking you in the face," Eddie growled, "You have Nancy, don't worry about how Y/N is."

Steve backed up from the threat but laughed at Eddie's clear jealousy. "Alright, calm down. Clearly, she's all yours; I got that. Nancy, Robin and I were all alone when we dealt with the pollen. I did research on it and everything. It's basically just a pollen that makes you crazy horny, barely able to satisfy it and that's why it continues on for hours. None of us had sex with each other. It doesn't make you desire whoever is with you. That's not how it works. So whatever you and Y/N did, came straight from your guys. Just with a push," Steve explained.

"But maybe it's because we were together when it happened! So we desired each other" Eddie tried to explain.

"I was with Nancy in the same car when I started to feel it. Touching her or sleeping with her never crossed my mind," Steve said as he crossed his arms. He leaned back against Eddie's couch, "You my friend are in love with her and that's why it happened."

"Woah now," Eddie laughed, "I never said anything about love."

Steve rolled his eyes but a playful smile on his face. "Don't bother trying to cover it. I told you, I did all the research. It doesn't make you feel anything you haven't already felt. And it doesn't make you say anything you didn't mean. Whatever happened between you two, happened because of how you guys already felt."

Eddie soaked in his words, his stomach fluttering as he thought about everything they said during their time together. "So, let's say she admitted to loving me and something like that. That's the truth? Not the pollen?"

"Bingo," Steve smiled as he leaned forward, "So, seriously, how was it?"

Eddie rolled his eyes, but a smile broke on his face. Steve shoved him as he saw the smile.

"You totally are into her!"

"Oh shut up!"

~

Eddie was terrified to face his feelings but he wasn't going to be the reason he lost her. The only way she's allowed to leave his life is by her decision. He'll never drive her there and he'll beg before she does.

All he had to do was admit he was in love with her. He was doubting himself, but losing her forever scared him more than any confession. He already had the suspicion she felt the same, if what Steve said was true. It gave him comfort he wouldn't be shooting in the dark.

He softly knocked on her bedroom window, the moon his only form of light. She took a deep breath as she flipped her lamp on. Only one person knocked on her window, and truthfully she missed him. She quickly got out of bed and walked over, unlocking it and allowing him inside. She shivered as she felt the cold night air, shutting the window.

"Well, at least you are prepared for me to stay. That has to be a good sign," Eddie tried to joke as she closed the window, instead of leaving it open for an early exit.

She smiled at him and walked to sit on her bed. "You don't have to be so nervous," she said as he stood in one spot. "You can sit. I won't bite you."

"Liked it last time you did," he joked back as he sat next to her. The joke landed flat as she awkwardly looked away. "Moving on. I just want to check on you. I understand things are a little weird for us. But I don't want you to think I'm not here for you."

Her heart swelled at his words, she turned to look at him with a soft smile. "I appreciate that. I'm sorry I've been weird. I just needed more time to move on. But I've missed my best friend."

He ignored the sadness he felt when she called him her best friend. He was glad he was, but he wanted to be something more to her. A best friend that's in a boyfriend.

"Did you need more time to move on because you meant what you said?" He threw the question out there like a grenade. No warning as it landed in her lap.

She hugged herself, looking down at her lap. "We don't need to do this, Eddie." She heavily sighed, "You said it yourself that we can move on like they all did and I don't want to make you relive such a horrifying memory of what sex is like with me."

Eddie kicked himself as the words were tossed back at him. She remembered what he said; that meant it stuck with her, and he felt like an asshole.

"I found out from Steve that none of them had sex with each other. It was just us," he explained. That caused her to look at him.

She shrugged as she thought it over, "probably because we were with each other."

"That's what I said. But it turns out, the pollen makes you crazy horny and nothing else. Steve said everything we did and said was because it was already in our body, the desire and tension. The pollen was just a push."

She looked at him horrified, her body burning in embarrassment. "That was far more than a push!" She covered her face with her hands. She liked the idea of blaming the pollen for the crazy shit she did to her best friend. It was embarrassing enough to have a crush, but now she did every sexual fantasy she thought of with him, and it was because she wanted to.

She wasn't sure if she wanted to die more because he knew she loved him or because he knew she wanted to fuck him.

"But isn't it nice to know we wanted to?" He asked, trying to remove her hands but she wouldn't budge.

"No, Edward. I want to cry in a hole and disappear. Because now, you know how I feel and I can't even blame it on that fucking plant!" Then it hit her, he couldn't blame the plant either.

She slowly removed her hands as she looked over at him. He was bent down as he tried to look into her eyes. His brown eyes looked at her with worry and softness.

"You...you said things too!" She gasped, pointing at him. "You! You told me you think about me sexually all the time. And that you-"

Eddie covered her mouth with his hand, "Yeah, I was there, gorgeous. I don't need you to remind me." He blushed embarrassed. "I meant the other things I said too."

She had never seen Eddie so serious. Not a single twinkle of tease in his eye or a twitch of his mouth. He slowly removed her hand.

She couldn't believe it. Years spent thinking about how good they'd be together, how much more love she could offer him if they went past friends. And it was truly something that could happen. She teared up at the thought. All the hurt she felt pining after him and it all was worth it.

He cupped her face as the first tear dropped. He wiped it away, licking his lips. "Are you okay?"

"Do you want to do this?" She whispered, looking down at his lips.

"Yes," he said without hesitation. Then finally, his lips pressed against hers. She eagerly kissed him back. She had been craving to do this again and she figured she never would. But fuck, she's glad she was wrong.

Eddie softly pushed her on her back as he crawled on top of her. The kiss deepened as he moved his hands down her body, swinging her leg around his waist.

She ran her fingers through his hair, head in the clouds. She pulled away, moving her hands to rest on his shoulders as she looked up at him.

"I love you," he whispered as he leaned in to press his forehead against hers. His eyes staring into hers, his warm hands on her hips.

"I love you too," she smiled, leaning up to softly kiss his lips.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123 @emxxblog

[sshiostwordblog]

That's not stupid at all omg!! I'd definitely read it :D I think oc x canon and yumeshipping is awesome and people should do it more tbh

SOBS TYSM you're so kind (I ended up writing the fic but it's quite long. Feel free to skip for anyone who's not interested in reading), I just hope it's at least slightly entertaining to read. Here you go (It's my second time writing a fanfic and English is not my first language so... I'd love some feedback if anyone is willing to read.)

『 ೈ𝘈 𝘕𝘦𝘸, 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 ♡』 

Lee: Albedo Ler: (OC) Shiro Tickle fic summary: Albedo gets strangely accustomed to this new, sweet individual who came to Mondstadt. The issue is… this new friend is a little too eager. Word count: 2773 words

Nights in Dragonspine were undoubtedly cold, the soft breeze of the wind was a common sound to hear within the snowy mountain. At times like these, Albedo was used to dealing with nothing more than his sole presence along with the slight feeling of the cold air hitting his skin. Things changed for him not too long ago, when they hired a newly arrived guy to take a role inside the range of the Knights of Favonius. At first, Albedo paid no mind to him. He was reserved and very dedicated to his work, after all. When you’ve got a large number of mysteries to uncover and turn even the smallest of observations into a wonder, it’s certainly difficult to preoccupy yourself with the people around you. But this tall Anemo user, Shiro, who arrived recently and now worked as an art teacher for therapeutic purposes, had seemed to take an interest in the alchemist from the very first moment he laid eyes on him.

At first, it was one conversation. The blond indulged in a small interaction about their occupations, nothing relevant. He learned that the taller male apparently came from Inazuma, having experience in using art as therapy methods. Art piqued Albedo’s interest as a topic, obviously, and soon he found himself getting slightly more invested in getting to know his new co-worker.

A conversation turned into two, strangers turned into acquaintances and soon enough Shiro was looking for excuses to spend time with the alchemist in his free time.

“Could I accompany you today?” he would eagerly ask, looking into Albedo’s eyes with that warm smile of his. “Can you tell me more about that?” he poked at Albedo’s knowledgeable nature another day, pushing him to explain further. Shiro would take no for an answer, of course, but he would also eventually trick his way into getting a yes and spending more and more time with Albedo to the point it was nothing short of exasperating, if not a little endearing.

 He would insist in helping Albedo with research and studies, sticking around for the most complex things even if he had little to no comprehension about the subject. The difference in knowledge was laughable, clearly. Shiro would often know nothing about the complexity of Albedo’s researches. He was much simpler. Emotionally and psychologically intelligent, yes, but when it comes to Albedo’s level of smarts…

“Shiro, could you please pass me the Starsilver shards?” Albedo’s calm voice had requested in this current day after months of interaction, said brunet being next to him and carefully trying to recognize the materials the alchemist needed for his experiment.

Here they were, already more than acquaintances. How did Shiro get this far?

He turned around to meet the blonde’s eyes with a hint of uncertainty in his own, smiling sheepishly at him.

“Here…?” Shiro handed him something, yes, but needless to say… it’s not what Albedo had been asking for. Again, he couldn’t blame the brunet. This material he requested only grew in Dragonspine and Shiro was still not entirely used to Mondstadt. Perhaps he forgot. A fond chuckle escaped the blond, shaking his head in disbelief. He should feel bothered about being slowed down like this; with Shiro around, his work was ten times slower. And yet… he couldn’t bring himself to care much. Shiro had grown on him by this point, him and his eager self. He was genuine and transparent, but not energetic to the point of being tiring. Shiro was calm most of the time and a good listener. Comforting.

Still… he wasn’t as good of an assistant as sucrose. The brunet was clearly not assistant material. Not for complex things like these at least.

“Maybe I should just… get it myself.” Albedo tried to say, before meeting Shiro’s look of disappointment and biting back a small huff of laughter. He would’ve felt bothered months ago, but not anymore. He was slowly getting used to the brunet’s presence, even If he initially had trouble with maintaining relationships and connections. “Hold on, I can get it, I swear.” The brunet claimed, before rushing to grab another thing that ended up being the requested ore.

When Shiro showed the material and saw the smile of approval in the blonde’s face, his eyes lit up just like a puppy getting a treat. There was something about Albedo he just adored from the start. Time passed by as he observed how the alchemist worked; asking him about things and hearing him explain in detail about the subjects he found so interesting. Shiro didn’t understand a single bit, but he found himself quietly listening with a smile on his face.

He would perk up every time Albedo asked for his help, and there was nothing different this time. “Shiro?” Albedo called out, turning to look at him in the midst of his work. “I need you to use your Anemo vision on this for a second? Just focus on deviating the elemental energy here,” he pointed at the setup that was in front of him, clearly a mix of substances.

The brunet would be asked to do these kinds of things from time to time, it was nothing new. Albedo had his back turned on him, too focused on the items on the table in front of him to look behind. He already knew Shiro was there, so why bother.

The catalyst approached from behind and lifted his hand to reach over Albedo’s shoulder to do as requested, his hand already accumulating elemental energy.

A soft noise stopped him, however.

It sounded like a gasp coming from Albedo, who had flinched slightly. Did his soft whirl of Anemo hit Albedo by accident? Did he hurt him?

He pulled his hand back, tilting his head to the side with a hint of worry in his eyes. “Did I hurt you? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten my hand so close…”

“Ah— no, it’s fine.” Albedo interrupted, sooner than he would’ve liked. “It just brushed my ear and- um…”

All Shiro did lately was paying attention to Albedo, it took him less than a second to notice the faint, precious blush decorating the alchemist’s cheeks. It was an endearing sight… but also confusing.

Why would the calm and collected Mr. Albedo be blushing?

“…It just tickled briefly, that’s all. We can continue.” Albedo picked his words back up, clearing his throat and attempting to be professional about it, turning to look back at his work and avoiding the brunet’s look of realization.

Albedo wasn’t one to pause or hesitate often. He was swift and calculating. He had hesitated just now, because… Shiro was just so eager about getting to know him and pay attention to him. There’s a big, fat chance he would…

“Ticklish?” Shiro repeated, making Albedo’s blush grow the slightest bit, trying to cover it up with a small cough. He would’ve been professional about this with anyone else, but after getting to know this sweet, persistent brunet he knew Shiro would hyperfocus on that small piece of info.

Albedo had to regain his composure before the other got any ideas. “Yes, it is a… rather normal response within the body’s nervous system to touch. Why do you sound so surprised?” The alchemist tried to say, even though he knew that look on Shiro’s face. It was already making his stomach feel all fluttery.

Before meeting Shiro, these things wouldn’t happen. He would’ve been by himself, working peacefully without these silly interruptions.

“You? Ticklish? That’s… adorable.”

Being praised from time to time however… he couldn’t say he minded all that much.

Albedo left out a shaky sigh, bringing a hand up to rub his temple. “It never fails to amaze me, you’re the only person who can say those things to me so casually…” “And you could tell me to stop it, but you never do.” Shiro pointed out, before he felt a knowing smile grow on his face the moment he noticed Albedo looking away. “I’m surprised you’re focusing on that instead of your work.”

The blond shook his head dismissively and decided to continue. Distractions like these were unacceptable within his working ethics. He reached for Shiro’s hand and did the requested process to continue his experiment, assuming the brunet would just drop the topic.

That is, until he felt another soft, tingly breeze against his ear a minute or so later, making him stop in his tracks.

It elicited the same brief reaction, making Albedo flinch and gasp quietly before covering his ear. This time, he turned to half-heartedly glare at the brunet, watching how Shiro looked away and played dumb; pretending he didn’t just use his vision again for that.

“What?” Shiro said, biting back a smile. “Is something the matter?”

He knew what he was doing.

Albedo sighed yet again for the millionth time that day. “Shiro, please...” he tried to say, hoping to reason with his… friend. They could be considered that, at this point.

The brunet looked like he had stars in his eyes from the mere prospect of Albedo being ticklish. Albedo, on the other hand, couldn’t fully grasp why… why him? Why so much attention towards him? Why did Shiro enjoy being this close to him? Doesn’t he find it boring at the very least? He had quickly taken an interest in Albedo and done nothing more than wanting to be around him apart from working.

It would usually take a little more effort to maintain a connection but with someone like this, sticking around no matter how busy Albedo can get… deep down, it was a little refreshing.

Albedo’s train of thought was quickly interrupted by another tingly breeze against his ears, this time a little more persistent.

He couldn’t help it, a sweet giggle poured out of his lips before he could stop it. “Was that a giggle just now?” Those words reached Albedo’s ears, causing them to turn red. He looked back at Shiro, but was surprised to be met with an adoring gaze instead of a teasing one.

Shiro’s smile looked like it could split his face in half from how hard he was smiling, his eyes sparkling affectionately because of the breathy giggle he just got to hear. It was too much to process, being stared at so adoringly.

Albedo looked away once again, sighing softly. “Shiro… don’t look at me like that...” A pure, loving and affectionate look. He wasn’t used to someone being so transparent about… liking him. It was so obvious.

“But I’ve never heard you laugh apart from a few chuckles! Besides, laughing is therapeutic too.” The brunet said, suddenly a bit more lively than he usually would be, leaning closer to Albedo while looking at him with those pleading eyes and silly smile. “Can I hear more? Pretty please?” Albedo opened and closed his mouth in pure, utter disbelief; trying to get some words out. Only Shiro out of all people would tell the renowned chief alchemist “Pretty please”.

“I— I don’t see how this is—” The blond tried to say, but rapidly went silent at the sight of Shiro’s puppy eyes. How does one deal with someone so eager? The second that reluctant sigh escaped Albedo’s lips, Shiro knew he had a green light to continue his little shenanigans. It was almost immediate; cold, delicate fingers fluttering around Albedo’s ears, causing him to let out a silent gasp before dissolving into giggles. He scrunched his shoulders up and tried to weakly bat at Shiro’s hands to push them away.

“Shihihiro! Pfft- Aha- S-seheriously—” Albedo tried to say, small titters slipping past his lips. This was the first time he found himself blushing this hard. “W-we- I got wohohork to dohoho—”

Shiro’s soft fingertips were persistent, sliding down and pushing through Albedo’s silky hair that felt so nice to the touch, beginning to wiggle against his neck. It was, surprisingly more sensitive than the shells of his ears.

Sweet squeaks and breathy giggles came out of the alchemist’s lips as he gave up on pushing the brunet away, instead focusing on covering his own involuntary smile instead. Why wasn’t he pushing Shiro away? He was technically stronger, smarter, could come up with strategies swiftly…

But then all of a sudden, the sensations stopped. Leftover titters were still slipping past Albedo’s lips as he tried to recover, confused by the sudden pause. He was naturally curious too, after all.

“I would stop, really,” Shiro began, resting his hands against Albedo’s shoulders from behind. You could hear the smile in his voice. “But, um… the issue is… you haven’t really told me to stop now, have you? Why are you letting me have my fun?”

Before Albedo could answer, he felt those same cold and wiggly fingers slipping under his coat and squeezing his side. He burst into another fit of breathy giggles while leaning back; his back pressed against Shiro’s chest.

“Ahahahack! Wahahahait—” Hiccups started to leak through the alchemist’s sweet laughter, feeling Shiro’s free hand wrap around his wrist, pulling Albedo’s hand away and uncovering his bright smile.

“Your laugh is… so sweet.” Of all the things Shiro could’ve said to make this feel humiliating, he just… kept praising. Was it normal to feel this warm and fluttery?... Another mystery to uncover once this nonsense is over.

Shiro kept going for a minute or so, fluttering his fingers ever-so-slightly, poking from time to time, wiggling and even blowing air against Albedo’s ears. Work was, for once, the last thing in Albedo’s mind. All he could do was melt into a puddle of giggles until Shiro finally decided to let up.

He hadn’t noticed he was this ticklish, since nobody usually attempts such a thing while near him. Only someone as refreshing and casual as Shiro would pull out a stunt like this.

He didn’t know how many minutes passed since this started, or how long did he leave his work unattended. All he knew is that by the time Shiro had stopped, his hair was all disheveled along with his flushed face.

Shiro stared at the giggling alchemist, thinking it was a lovely sight. He’d be doing these kinds of things more often, to keep Albedo from getting engrossed in work.

“Hm, I think I’m the first person that gets to see the chief Alchemist smiling like this…”

Shiro could’ve pointed out Albedo was a mess, he could’ve pointed out how unprofessional this was. All he did, however, was talk about the blonde’s smile.

Calmly and carefully, he lifted his hand and fixed Albedo’s hair making the blond gasp, before Shiro pulled away and turned his attention to Albedo’s work. So casually. As if nothing had happened at all.

Albedo was still panting slightly, covering his mouth once again while staring at the brunet dumbfounded. What… what just happened?

“Th—… um…” He tried to speak, but it was an impossible task at the moment. He was a little too disoriented to figure out what just happened, his skin still tingling with the remnants of Shiro’s playful attack.

“You’re not going to get to work?” The brunet tilted his head innocently, his sparkling eyes holding no remorse or malice. His smile so warm, so satisfied. As if he hadn’t just… just…

“…Y-yes… yes, yes. You’re right…”

Albedo cleared his throat and fixed his clothes, trying to ignore that fluttering feeling that grew even stronger when Shiro fixed his hair so casually just a few seconds earlier. The only occasions in which he engaged in physical touch were when Klee hugged him. He wasn’t used to this.

The worst part was… Albedo couldn’t figure out whether it bothered him or not. Having someone around like this, so transparent and so strangely comforting.

Maybe, just maybe… he should be slightly more permissive around Shiro next time instead of being so careful.

[therealmilfdennys]

https://www.tumblr.com/therealmilfdennys/781579452459204608/ive-been-infected-with-pope-brain-worms-i?source=share

This but he realizes you dont see him the same as everyone else when your complaining about a coworker and he causally is like "so you want me to beat him"

"What"

"Rough him up send message however you wanna say it"

"All he did was steal my pen?"

"👁👁"

"No I dont"

oh my GOD you're so right he absolutely would do some shit like that. anybody who decides to be shitty to you is his Enemy just on principle.

CW: Uhhh blood, canon typical violence, stalking mention, Pope is a warning in and of himself, mention of harassment(sort of?), Denny trying to wax poetic again.

You aren’t even complaining to Pope at the start, really. He’s sitting, quiet and stiff, staring blankly at the TV’s black screen in Smurf’s living room while you stitch up Craig’s shoulder nearby. You’re telling Craig and Baz about this nurse at the clinic—a real piece of work, from the sound of it. 

“He acts like I don’t literally have a medical degree,” You’re saying, lighthearted, but Andrew can tell it’s forced from the way your mouth is twisted into a tight smile. “He’s always leaning over my shoulder, making sure my stitches are done right and man-splaining how to splint an arm properly. Like I don’t already know how.” You chatter on, mild complaints really. You know Craig and Baz don’t really care, but the chatter keeps Craig mostly calm when he’s in pain. Pope is hanging off every word, though, feeling his pulse spike with every complaint from your pretty mouth. You shouldn’t have to deal with that, he thinks. You’re competent, and intelligent, and this coworker guy of yours needs to back the fuck off. “He also asked me out like, four times last week,” You’re saying then, and Pope turns his head, eyes like a shark, cold and dark, boring holes into the side of your face. You glance sidelong at him, but continue your work. “Can’t take no for an answer, apparently.” “Sounds like a prick.” Craig quips, voice strained and rough, wincing as you pull the needle through his skin once more. The conversation segues after you shrug it off like it’s nothing, but Pope can’t stop thinking about it. He’s never met your coworker, doesn’t even know the guy's name, but he can imagine the satisfying crunch of his nose beneath his fist. Can calculate exactly how many times he’d need to hit him to get an apology from him. Can practically feel the blood smear on his knuckles. 

He walks over to help you clean up when you’re done patching Craig’s arm. He’s tense all over, which isn’t unusual, but he’s never this quiet when the two of you are alone. 

“Everything okay?” You ask airily, never pushing for an answer, which he usually doesn’t have. His head turns, and he regards you with an intense look for a moment, before sniffing once, turning back to the mess of bandages on the table. 

“That guy at work givin’ you trouble?” He asks casually. Or at least as casual as Pope can be. You pause what you’re doing, leaning a hand against the table, your other resting on your hip. 

“Nothin’ I’m not used to.” You state evenly, biting at the inside of your cheek. “Why?” 

He shrugs, tips his head side to side some, stacking bloody gauze neatly in front of him. “Just was thinkin’ I could… pay ‘im a visit.” He mutters cryptically, impassive in a way that feels forced. “Make sure he doesn’t bother you anymore.” 

You stare blankly at him for a moment, shocked by the offer but not quite surprised. Pope has been known to fix things with his fists when someone he cares for is under threat. You just weren’t aware you were someone he cared for that deeply. “Andrew,” You smile, bemused and tender in a way that makes his hands clam up some. “No, thank you. I appreciate the offer, but it really isn’t a big deal.” You assured, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder gently. He has to fight the urge to lean into it, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, and he’s quiet for a long moment. 

“Shouldn’t let ‘im treat you like that.” He mumbles, gruffly, like it annoys him that you don’t take him up on the offer. “I know,” You reply evenly. “Which is why I’ve already emailed HR and made a formal complaint to my boss at the Clinic.” You assuage, hand lifting to rest on his bicep, squeezing gently. “It’s alright. It’s sweet of you to be worried, but I wouldn’t ask you to do that.” He looks over at you like he can’t believe what he’s hearing, head tilted to the side a bit, eyebrows furrowed, lips twisted like there’s something he wants to say but can’t find the words. You understand why he’s taken aback by your refusal of his offer, of course. All his life, violence has been expected of him, and you’ve seen how it affects him, even if he tries to hide it. You refuse to be another person who makes him feel like a machine. “Fine.” He mutters, nodding once, glancing briefly down at your hand on his arm, before returning to his task of cleaning up the gauze. You nod in return, smiling faintly, and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you clean up the mess left over from fixing up Craig’s injuries. 

When it’s time for you to leave for the night, you can tell he’s wary to have you go. He’s refusing to look at you, eyes on the ground as you say your goodbyes, and Pope never refuses to meet your eyes. So, you ask him to walk you to your car, and he gives a stiff nod of agreement. “Thank you,” You murmur, ducking your chin down some in an attempt to catch his gaze. “For earlier.” You clarify at his confused little frown. He simply hums, shrugging a shoulder, noncommittal. It makes you smile, for some reason. He really doesn’t know how to take a compliment, and it’s oddly endearing. A beat of silence passes, and another, and you sigh softly. Leaning forward is easy, brushing a chaste kiss to his cheek is even easier. There’s a faint hitch in his breath, the slightest widening of his eyes when they snap up to meet your own. His fingers flex where his hands hang limp at his sides, as if he doesn’t know what to do with them all of a sudden.

“Goodnight, Andrew.” You hum softly, giving him a gentle smile, squeezing his shoulder in a friendly manner, willing your heart to calm in your chest. 

“G’night, sunshine.” He replies, voice rough and quiet. 

He watches as you get in your car, and he doesn’t move until you’re out of his sight. Fingers lift to touch his cheek, and in that moment, he allows himself a rare smile. He knows then that he’d do just about anything for you, something warm and unfamiliar curling in his chest. He has half the mind to follow you home. Not for nefarious purposes, no. Simply to make sure you get home safe, and maybe linger outside your apartment building, watch you go through your nightly routine. He can’t say he hasn’t done it before, but tonight? Tonight he’s sated. Cheek tingling from the brief touch of your lips against his skin, and that’s enough for now. 

[decentwritings]

Chapter 7

Summary: At twenty-six, you never expected your life to look like this: a veteran, a college dropout, now running drugs to cover your late father’s debts. The military took you away for a brief moment, but now you're back in your hometown, keeping family at a distance to keep them safe. Your simple plan to clear the debt, one job at a time, unravels the moment Mabel steps into your life.

previous part <--> next part

You stare at the list, the names burning into your memory without effort. It’s not intentional—you just can’t help it. Your eyes flick toward Erin and the other detectives. They’re focused, immersed in their own investigations, but you can feel their scrutiny like a weight pressing down on you.

You shouldn’t be here. You know that. But the urgency of the situation has pulled you in too deep to back out now. Each name on the list feels like a warning, a reminder of the tangled web you’ve become ensnared in. Worse, every name represents someone who could be in danger because of you.

Your eyes stop on a name you recognize, and your brow furrows in confusion. Your pulse quickens as you lift your gaze to Erin, meeting her eyes immediately.

“Why is my dad’s name on this list?” you ask, pointing at it.

Erin steps to your side, glancing at the list. Her expression shifts from confusion to realization in seconds. “Erin,” you press, your voice lower now, more pointed. “Was my dad a CI?”

She pulls the list from your hands, shaking her head. “This is the fake one we came up with,” she says quickly, her tone controlled. Her eyes flick to the other detectives, who exchange subtle nods. “You didn’t think we’d give you the real list, did you?”

You know her too well. Even now, after all these years, you can see the lie plain as day.

“Erin,” you say again, calmly this time, though the storm brewing inside you seeps into your tone. You meet her eyes with a look you hope she understands. Her lips press into a thin line, her head giving the faintest shake. A silent plea: don’t pull on this string.

But the glance she shares with the other detectives—it tips you over the edge.

“Erin, quit looking at them,” you snap, your fists clenching. “The list is real, isn’t it? My dad was a CI.” This time, it’s not a question.

Erin sighs heavily, her shoulders slumping. “The list is real,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart pounds loudly in your ears. The revelation hits like a physical blow, but the pieces fall into place almost too easily. Of course. It all makes sense now—why your dad was found outside the hospital after an apparent overdose. Why the security footage from the ER entrance mysteriously disappeared. His death wasn’t an accident.

Your chest tightens as anger surges through you, hot and unrelenting. “He was working for them, wasn’t he?” you demand, your voice trembling with rage. “That’s why he got involved with those people in the first place.”

The betrayal cuts deeper than you expected. Your dad wasn’t just caught in their world—he was a part of it. And now, because of them, he’s gone.

Erin's expression darkens. "Y/N, listen—"

"No, you listen!" you interrupt, your voice rising. "He didn't tell me anything! I could have helped him! I could have—" You cut yourself off, frustration spilling out in shaky breaths. "Why didn't he tell me? I could have helped him!"

You're out of breath, eyes are filled with tears and you feel...horrible. Here you thought your dad was doing it out of selfishness but really he was helping the police. What may have started as stupidity winded up him helping to end this for good. Not just for him, but for everyone involved.

Erin steps closer, her voice gentler now. "I know this is a lot to take in, but he did what he thought was right. He was trying to protect you, Y/N. He didn't want you dragged into this mess."

You wipe at your eyes angrily, shaking your head. "But I am dragged into it! And now he's dead because of it. What good did any of it do?" You look at her, hoping she had the answers. You know she does. She's had her nose in those files for the last six hours.

"Your dad cooperated in a lot," Erin finally speaks, smiling sadly. "He tried to work his way to the top. Things slowed down with Weeks' death but he still managed to get intel during those times. We had suspicions of Ronald Betancourt but we could never prove it...is the guy you guys call Ronny?"

Erin takes a photo from another detective and shows you a photo, from a still of a video. You stare at the photo in Erin's hand, your stomach twisting. The man in the picture is unmistakable—Ronny, the one who threatened you, the one pulling the strings now. "Yeah," you mutter, your voice barely audible. "That's him."

Erin sighs, putting the photo down. "Your dad was close to connecting him to Weeks' crew, but he didn't get enough time. That's why they took him out." She pauses, glancing at you. "Ronny must've found out your dad was working with us."

Your hands ball into fists at your sides. "So, what? Now it's on me to finish what he started? Is that what you're saying?"

Erin's eyes soften. "Y/N," she says softly, and your anger decreases when you hear her say your name. "He did this because of you."

You blink, confused by her words. She moves to grab a file then moves back to you, opening it to show you what the original detective on the case wrote.

Informant reason for approaching the station: wants to be like his daughter and save lives.

Your breath catches in your throat as you read the note. Wants to be like his daughter and save lives. The words blur for a moment, and you can barely process what you're seeing.

"He—he wanted to be like me?" you whisper, staring at the paper, your mind racing. All this time, you'd thought your dad had fallen into something dark for selfish reasons, but it was because of you. Because he wanted to do good, just like you.

The wall of fame he had for you and now this. He really was proud of you.

You look at the list again, the names blurring in your vision. Your father gave his life to protect you—and others—from these people, because of you.

Tears well in your eyes as you realize the depth of his sacrifice. Everything he'd done—getting involved with dangerous people, risking his life—was because he believed in you. All the anger and confusion you'd felt over the past months start to shift into something else, something heavier but clearer. Pride. Sadness. A strange, painful mix of the two.

You wipe your eyes, the weight of the list in your hands suddenly feeling much heavier. Your face switches to one of determination, almost like a switch flipped. You look at Erin, setting your jaw.

She nods, understanding the look very well. She turns back to her colleagues and they nod as well.

"Grab some pen and paper, I got a lot of information to give."

\\\\\\

You finish the call with Rudy, thanking him profusely for taking care of your family. He tells you they have questions, and you instruct him to tell them the truth—that the police are involved. He urges you to cooperate with them fully, to go along with whatever plan they have and you can only assure him everything will be fine. No matter what happens to you, as long as at the end of everything your family and Mabel are okay, you will be happy. You hang up, anxiety creeping in as you rush up the stairs, two at a time, hoping Mabel is home.

You want to see her before she leaves.

Knocking three times, you wait, chewing on your nail nervously. You hadn't messaged her, thinking this conversation needed to happen face to face.

After a minute, Mabel opens the door, her expression cold and guarded. She glares at you, and you instinctively raise your hands, trying to ease the tension.

"Let me explain," you start, watching as she leans against the door frame, silent but giving you the chance to speak.

Before you can get more than a few words out, Mabel stops you, her tone sharp. "You don't get to explain away what's happening."

"Wait, Mabel, please—" you plead, but she doesn't let you finish.

"Let's go," she orders, her voice leaving no room for argument. You stand there for a moment, stunned by her tone and demeanor. You've never seen her this angry, this hardened, and it's throwing you off balance.

"Mabel," you call out, hurrying after her as she storms down the stairs. She's moving fast, almost too fast for you to keep up. "Mabel, stop—slow down, at least."

When you finally catch up to her outside, you grab her hand, desperate to slow her down, to talk this through. She immediately flinches out of your grasp, her glare even more intense now. You step back, lifting your hands in surrender.

"I'm sorry," you offer, the words feeling hollow. Her glare doesn't soften, and you let your hands drop to your sides, sighing deeply. "Mabel, you shouldn't be involved in this. I don’t want—"

"I'm in it now," she cuts in, her voice level but laced with anger. "Now get in the car. We have to meet the guys."

Your brows furrow in confusion. "What guys?" She turns to you, eyes narrowing like you're supposed to know. Then, realization hits. "No. Absolutely not. You need to get out of town. This is my problem—"

"You made it mine now, too!" Mabel's voice rises, startling you with a volume and intensity you hadn't expected. It leaves you momentarily speechless. "You thought I didn't care, but I did. I do care. So I went out of my way to find out what you were hiding..."

A cold wave of guilt washes over you, and you swallow thickly, staring down at your feet, shame twisting in your gut.

“You really think I’m just going to leave town, leave you, to do whatever stupid plan you’ve conjured up alone?” she waits for your input and when you remain silent, she scoffs.

"I was right," she mutters, her voice softening as if the weight of the situation is settling on her shoulders. "This town just drags you down, just when you think you're out."

You take a small step forward, wanting to close the emotional and physical distance between you. But Mabel steps back, shaking her head.

Your shoulders slump, the guilt heavy on your chest. "I told you, Mabel. I didn't want—"

"Yeah, I get it," she snaps, her frustration clear as she turns and heads toward the driver's side of the car. "Let's go. We have to pick up Charlie." She climbs into the car, leaving you standing there, regret burning in your chest with every passing second.

You sigh quietly, glancing to your right when you see a car pull up behind Mabel's. You furrow your brows, recognizing it from somewhere. The glass is tinted so you aren't able to see inside but something about it doesn't feel right.

You get in the passenger seat, looking at the side mirror to see the car pull off the same time as Mabel. You sit back, buckling up as you glance over at Mabel. She's tense, her hands gripping the wheel a little too tightly. You want to say something, anything, but the words stick in your throat. The weight of everything hangs in the air between you—what you've dragged her into, the danger looming over both of you.

You reach to turn the radio on but stop when you see her eyes flicker to your hand. You sit back with a huff, crossing your arms like a scolded child. You glance at the side mirror again, finding the same car again, but lagging behind. It's trying to hide its following you.

There's an uneasy feeling creeping up your spine. Glancing at the side mirror again, you try to place where you've seen it before. The tinted windows give nothing away, but there's something about it, something that makes your gut churn.

"Umm," you speak up, nervous, afraid she would yell. You clear your throat and sit up, turning your body to look out the back window. "Make a left here."

"What?" Mabel asks, sending you a glare.

"Make the left, just make the left," you order quickly, and with her driving skills, she does it perfectly.

Mabel grips the wheel even tighter, her knuckles turning white as she takes the sharp left without hesitation. The car screeches slightly as she turns, but her skill keeps it under control. You twist in your seat, watching through the rear window as the car behind you hesitates for a second before making the turn as well.

Your heart pounds in your chest as the uneasy feeling solidifies. "It's definitely following us," you mutter, more to yourself than to Mabel. "There's a car following us." You tell her.

"How long has it been there?" she asks through clenched teeth, her eyes focused on the road ahead but her voice laced with frustration.

"Since we left your place," you admit. "I recognized it earlier, but I couldn't place it. Now I'm sure. They're tailing us."

Mabel curses under her breath, her face hardening with anger. "Who the hell are they?"

You shake your head, the pit in your stomach growing heavier. "I don't know... but we need to lose them."

Mabel's jaw clenches as she accelerates, weaving through the narrow streets. The car behind you speeds up as well, keeping pace but struggling to stay hidden now.

"Oh, they know we know," you mumble, sitting up slightly to grab your gun from your waistband.

"What are you doing?" Mabel asks, glancing at you as you check your magazine.

You cock the gun. "Popping their tires."

"How about we try the gun-free method?" You scrunch your nose, unfamiliar with said method. "We try to lose them. Give me a minute."

You pause, your hand tightening around the grip of your gun. "A minute?" you mutter, your anxiety bubbling up. You glance at Mabel, her focus unwavering as she handles the car with precision. She's determined, and it sparks a small sense of reassurance in you.

"Not literally a minute," she grunts as she makes a sudden turn.

"Fine," you say, sliding the gun back into your waistband. "But if they catch up—"

"They won't," Mabel cuts you off, her eyes narrowing as she takes a sharp right turn, the tires squealing in protest. The car behind you follows but starts lagging, clearly not expecting the maneuver.

You grab the handle above the door, bracing yourself as Mabel floors it down the next street. "I hope you know what you're doing."

She spares you a quick glance. "Trust me."

Another quick turn, this time down an alley, and the distance between you and the tailing car grows. You peek out the back window, watching them struggle to keep up. Mabel swerves into a side street, and for a split second, the pursuing car disappears from sight.

"Now what?" you ask, your heart racing.

Mabel takes a breath, slowing down just slightly. "We take another turn and lose them for good." She does as she says and soon, you're back on a road you're unfamiliar with.

"I think I want to be a writer," Mabel says all of sudden. You raise a brow, confused by the topic but intrigued. "I don’t know. The whole…radio silence between us had me writing a lot more than usual and when I realized I turn to writing in any kind of situation, the first thing I thought of is…”

She glances at you, like she’s debating whether to tell you this or not.

“The first thing I thought of is, I wanted to tell you,” she confesses.

You look out the window, jaw tightening. You can’t believe you put her through such a hard time these last few days.

You don’t deserve her.

You lean back in your seat, considering her words. "You’d be a great writer," you say softly, picking at the loose string on your pants. You look at her and smile, loving the way her lips curve slightly at your words. “I’ve heard you talk, I like hearing you talk…I bet your written words are just as incredible.”

Mabel smiles slightly, though it's faint, weighed down by the tension still lingering in the car. She shakes her head. "I'm still mad at you."

The light turns green, and Mabel accelerates, driving a little more calmly now. The streets are quiet, and it feels like you've finally shaken the tail.

You nod in understanding, unable to find other words besides "I'm sorry," to say to that. You sit in silence for a moment, staring out the window as you process everything. You stare at her as she drives, heart aching for putting her in this situation.

She’s been nothing but supportive and communicative with you. You feel like you’ve given her nothing while she’s given you nearly everything. You want to be supportive.

You want to communicate.

You don’t want to lose her.

"My dad was a CI," you tell her, and has to force herself to keep her eyes on the road when she hears your words. "His accidental overdose...not so accidental." You share with her.

Her walls shatter then, the need to console you breaking it. "I'm so sorry," she says quietly, her voice full of empathy.

You look at her and shrug. "I guess in some sort of way, I was being like my dad. Hiding the truth from the people I love, thinking I was protecting them but really..." you pause, and she meets your eyes when she stop at another red light. "I was just putting them in danger."

She doesn't say anything. Instead, when the light changes green, she takes your hand and intertwines your fingers, squeezing your hand.

Once. Twice.

Three times.

You know what it means but don't say anything. Just squeeze her hand three times back. You see her lips twitch into a smile as the car rolls to a stop outside of a big house. You eye the house, then the street. You have never seen this side of town before.

Mabel leans over after parking, connecting your lips with hers. She pulls back just a few centimeters. "We're going to get through this, okay?" Her hand goes up to your cheek, running her thumb gently along your skin. Her eyes search yours, full of determination and something deeper—something that feels like hope, despite the storm swirling around you both.

You nod, swallowing hard as you let her reassurance sink in. "Okay," you whisper, your voice barely audible but filled with resolve. You connect your lips with hers once again, wanting to express what you're unable to say aloud. When you pull apart, she glances out the window and sits back in her seat.

The back door opens and you glance back, finding Charlie sitting in the backseat awkwardly. You don't blame him. He just caught you kissing his ex-girlfriend, who he still has feelings for. You're positive the only one who isn't feeling awkward is Mabel, because she's shifting the gear to drive.

"Nice to see you too, Charlie," Mabel says without missing a beat, her tone light but edged with a certain defiance.

Charlie clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably. "You sure about this, Mabel?" he asks, his voice low and tight.

You glance at him in the rearview mirror. His jaw is clenched, his gaze fixed on Mabel like he's trying to will her to change her mind.

"Absolutely," she replies, her eyes on the road as she pulls away from the curb. "If you have something to say, now's the time."

Charlie shakes his head. "You shouldn't even be back in this," he says pointedly and you can hear the way its directed to you.

You turn in your seat to look at him. "Have you tried arguing with her?" You hear her let out a quiet chuckle. "I don't want her involved in this either, Charles–"

He opens his mouth to correct you but you don't give him a chance to.

"–but here we are," you continue, cutting him off before he can protest. "You think I want this? Any of this?" Your voice rises slightly, frustration bubbling to the surface. "But Mabel made her choice. Just like you did."

Charlie glares at you, his expression a mix of anger and guilt. "Yeah, well, at least when I was doing it, I kept her out of it," your glare doesn't waver and he slouches slightly under it. "I never wanted to rope her in to this. She doesn't belong back in this world."

Mabel scoffs, her grip on the wheel tightening. "Stop talking about me like I'm not here," she says firmly, her tone carrying the weight of someone who refuses to be sidelined. "I know exactly what I'm walking into, Charlie. And for the record, I don't need you to save me."

The silence that follows is heavy, filled with unspoken tension. Charlie shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. You don't turn back around, keeping your gaze on Mabel.

"Fine," Charlie mutters after a long pause. "But when this blows up—and it will—don't say I didn't warn you."

You rest your elbow on the doorsill, huffing. "That's just the positive attitude we need."

Charlie lets out a grunt as he tries to find a comfortable position to sit in. "What even is the plan?"

You and Mabel share a look, and a grimace crosses your face. You think Charlie sees because you hear him groan.

"There is no plan, is there?"

"I’ll explain when we’re with the others,” you say simply, sharing one last look with Mabel. It’s not much but you understand; she trusts you.

Charlie throws his hands up in exasperation, slumping back against the seat. "Great. Just great. We're driving straight into the fire without a damn extinguisher."

You glance at Mabel then over your shoulder at Charlie. "You want a hint, kid" you start and Mabel slows to a stop at a red light. He grunts at the nickname, like a child. “It involves my ex-girlfriend."

Charlie sits up and looks between you and Mabel. "That's only fair, since mine is involved." Mabel sends him a glare that makes him sit back silently.

"And your ex-girlfriend is..." Mabel asks slowly.

"A cop," you say and Charlie huffs out a laugh. "Hear me out, I went to her already–"

"And she didn't arrest you? Wow. Feelings are still there, clearly."

You turn to make sure he can see your glare. "Charles, you want to walk out alive from this plan, stop talking." He crosses his arms like a scolded child and huffs. With a head shake, you turn back around and look at Mabel. "She has an idea and it may get us all out of this...safely."

Charlie hears the hesitance in your voice at the last word but he does what you told him, stop talking. He glances between you and Mabel, waiting for his ex-girlfriend response to this.

Mabel drums her fingers on the steering wheel, her lips pressing into a thin line as she considers your words. The light turns green, and she pulls forward, her gaze locked on the road ahead.

"A cop, huh?" she says finally, her tone cautious but not dismissive. "You really trust her? Because if this goes sideways—"

"I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't," you cut in. "She wants to help. And I have gone over it with her already–she's the one who told me about my dad."

Mabel glances at you at that, aware of the weight behind your words. Her fingers tighten on the steering wheel, and her eyes flicker with something unreadable—concern, maybe, or anger on your behalf. She exhales slowly, nodding for you to continue.

"We went over this case and apparently, my dad was close to revealing who was behind all these drug runners, which is why they had to shut him up," you say, feeling anger rise in the pit of your stomach as you recall the information on the case file. "They just need one major deal to go down, catch these guys red handed to shut it all down. Erin wants to help."

Charlie huffs in the backseat. "I don't buy it. There has to be more to this." He leans forward again and looks at you directly. "There's no way any of us walk out of this scot-free."

You hesitate, and since Mabel is focused on the road, she doesn't see it, but Charlie does. You send him a look, silently pleading with him not to ask anymore questions. He sits back quietly, but the tension in the car thickens. Charlie's eyes narrow slightly, clearly unsatisfied with the lack of answers. He doesn't press further, but the weight of his skepticism hangs in the air, making everything feel fragile. And despite not liking you entirely, he trusts you wouldn't put Mabel in a situation that could get her hurt or into anymore trouble.

Mabel, ever perceptive, picks up on the subtle shift in the atmosphere. She glances briefly at you before turning her attention back to the road, her voice low but steady. "If you think this is our best shot, I'll back you. But..." she hesitates, her fingers tightening on the wheel, "if it comes down to a choice between her plan and keeping you safe, I'm choosing you. Every time."

The sincerity in her voice makes your chest tighten. You nod, swallowing hard. "I know. And I'll do everything I can to make sure it doesn't come to that."

The car falls into a tense silence, the weight of the situation settling over all three of you. Charlie finally breaks it with a low sigh. "So, what's her play? She's got to have something if you're putting this much faith in her."

You glance back at him, then at Mabel. "Ronny asked for a list. He wants to know all the names of the CIs and UCs in the area." You inform them then shake your head as the list of names flashes in your head. "I have to meet him tomorrow to let him know the names. We can go over what else will go with the guys." You say as Mabel searches for a place to park at the docks.

When Mabel finally finds a parking spot, you all exit the car and follow Charlie to his brother's boat. There, Costa, Tommy and now Nunes is there waiting for you all.

"Nunes?" You greet him with furrowed brows. He shrugs and pulls you in for a short embrace.

"Mabel needs helps, she's got it." Nunes says with a shrug.

You glance at the girl and she smiles, moving closer to you and don't waste time into pulling her into your side. Her hands go around your waist and you look around the group, noticing the tension that still lingers between everyone.

You go over what's expected of them during the plan. All they have to do is be there, and since Tommy has to be the one to move the larger products, he's already expected. Nick and Ronny won't be suspicious of his presence but they will of Charlie, Costa, Nunes and Mabel. So you had to play this right.

"Ronny will want me there," Mabel says, glancing up at you for a second then the others. "You said he thought we would make a good team and he's right–we'll use that and make him think we'll work with him. I'll be there."

You hate the idea, but you know there's no point in arguing with her. All you can do is nod and look over to them, hoping Mabel won't see your obvious disdain for that part of the plan.

"Costa, Nunes," you look at them, then look at Charlie. "Charlie."

Charlie arches a brow at the use of his actual name. It means you're serious.

"Be on standby. I'll let Erin know about you guys." You tell them.

Charlie's brow furrows, and for a moment, it seems like he's about to argue, but then he catches your serious expression and settles back with a resigned sigh. "Alright," he mutters, "but I still don't like this."

Costa chuckles lightly, crossing his arms and looking out at the water. "Yeah, well, none of us do," he says, his tone neutral. "But we do what we gotta do."

Nunes shrugs. "Rangers lead the way, right?"

You smile in his direction, surprised he remembered. That's for damn sure, you think as you nod in his direction. Which is why you're going to make sure they come out unscathed. Especially Mabel.

\\\\\\\

logged off two months ago after posting and got caught up with school work. semester’s almost over so I’m hoping I can dedicate more time to posting. I wanted to get this out as soon as possible since I know the wait has been long so there will be grammar errors so i apologize.

Thank you for your patience and for sticking around. See you in the next one

[pokemon-ash-aus]

if you were to have a hypothetical infection au, what kind of disease would it be and who would go bye-bye first?

Hypothetical, but i love the thought of it cementing in Pokerus. A disease that can't help but NOT be transferred, lasts 3 days then is gone for good- you can never get it again.

Except it goes wrong.

You notice it in your Charmander, a spunky little guy you caught recently in the academy. You see the purple haze of it's eyes and the near lethargic sway of it's body.

Excitement courses through your veins- you know of Pokerus- you have a few pokemon that have gotten it in the past- this is nothing for you.

So you send your Charmander in battle, call commands to it even though it doesn't really listen.

It uses bite... A lot. Small pokemon, big pokemon- you're not sure why, you aren't even sure Charmander HAS bite in it's normal moveset.

Day 3 rolls in fast and leaves in faster.

Your Charmander still has purple eyes and a lethargic sway.

There aren't screams, nothing that tells you of the impending doom crawling down the walls of the academy. Nothing that could tell you how wrong this was.

You set your Charmander in a healing box, let them sit there for a day or so.

The other students and trainers get angry- they are furious with you that you're taking up the only healing box in the biome you are in.

But fear courses through your vein, hints of purple echoing the peripherals of your eyes. Your chest burns, you feel tired and you don't know why.

The day ends and night is falling, so you shakily let out your Charmander.

It lays in the grass, labored breathing reaching your ears.

It suddenly comes to your mind that it hasn't eaten much in the past 3 days.

It comes to mind that you haven't eaten much either.

You stumble away, leaving your charmander at the edge of the healing box, leaving it's purple eyes and pooling drool to lay in the grass.

Rapid attempts have you throwing your pokemon around, the red light drawing your attention and has you staring at them.

You don't recognize them easily. It takes a few minutes of labored breathing before your eyes land on your Florges.

It shows no signs of the Pokerus. It's had it once before and it seems it wasn't eager to pick the desease up again.

Your other pokemon don't bear the same weight.

Your Lechonk hadn't moved since you released it.

Your Sandile was swaying, steadily crossing away from you.

Your Rotom was floating eerily still, orange and blue body coated in a purple hue.

Your Grimer wasn't really there either. It's body inflating as raspy breaths echoed it's body.

It's eyes never left you.

4 days had passed. It takes pokerus a few hours to infect those around it, but it never infects the same pokemon twice.

Your arms feel numb come morning, you've been staring at your pokemon for hours apparently.

The 5th day you don't remember your name, you don't even know if you remember who your pokemon are.

You stumble into the tundra, your body warm and your stomach heavy even as your fingers turn blue in the cold. You wander and wander, watch as Pokemon sway in the same tempo as you.

Left.

Right.

Left.

Right.

The hunger hits you out of left field, soft at first, then a startling monster that makes your mouth salivate, drool prickling at the edges of your mouth and douse down the front of your shirt.

In the cold, it should be painful. Tiny ice crystals popping and blistering against blemished skin, it should hurt.

You don't feel a thing, but you're hungry.

You're so hungry.

Your wandering, your slow lethargic swaying turns into one of desperation. You're running through the cold tundra, jumping into freezing water that don't bother you none.

There's something at the beach.

It looks like a Pokemon, but it could also be human, you're not sure what it is, but it's too slow to move.

You forget that cooking was an option, forgo all the items in your bag that are fresh and ready to use. You forget that you are in a dome, and food is still readily available to all.

Your teeth sink into flesh as the Pokemon-Human thing writhes beneath you. Warm liquid presses against your tongue, sweet and savory all in one go.

Your mind screams at you- it should taste metallic in some way- but you ignore it for another bite.

One.

Two.

Three.

That's all you need before you pull away, the creature was still living, still writhing and screaming.

You stand and begin to wander again, back through the tundra and into the open plains.

There is a light- you don't recognize it.

The Charmander of before steps to your side, and as a duo, you wander and wander.

The dome is closed.

--

Anyway, if i had a thought on who would be infected first, it's gonna be Ash with how much he lvoes and helps pokemon. It's inevitable ToT

[aziraphales-library]

Lost Fic #305

1. Hello hello hello! Thank you all so much for everything you do! For what we receive from you, we are truly thankful! I am looking for a fic I read when I was new to AO3 that ended with Satan's control over Crowley manifesting into a small snake around his neck that was choking him. Aziraphale removed it and destroyed it. I'm not even sure what tag that would be under. I don't remember anything else. I don't know if that's enough to go on, but I appreciate any information. Thank you again! - @goodwomanbadlady

2. Um, hi. I have been looking for this fic for ages now and it would be really nice if you knew it! Its a through the ages type fic where Crowley was Raphael before he fell. He remembers his fall. Other than that I remember very clearly that there was a scene where Crowley healed a man and when the man asked what his name was he used Raphael. Apparently saying that name causes pain in his mouth/tongue . There's even a moment where Aziraphale and Crowley are arguing and his mouth and tongue start to bleed from it. Thanks for looking. Take your time! - @rosegoldenatlas

3. Hey, first of all thanks for all that you're doing 💖⭐ I always find something to read here 🥹 Im looking for a fic I read some weeks ago. It was definitely NSFW. It started with Crowley opening a book at Aziraphales Shop. And the book was cursed (I guess it was a lust curse/spell). They both get hit by the spell/curse and start getting hot. I remember Crowley not wanting to do it with Aziraphale in the beginning. They later confessed their feelings for each other. I hope you can find it 🥹💖 - @apollyonsspace

4. Hiii I'm looking for a fanfic that I started reading and I cant find it now. Its about Aziraphale and Crowley after season 1 I guess. But Crowley is kidnaped by Gabriel and Sandalphon and Michael. They locked him in a room and started tortuere him. There are sexual assault by the angels to Crowley. Is very dark, I remember Raphael was on it and he help Aziraphale to rescue him. Raphael have a part in heaven that is like a nursing. Like I said, is very very dark and so explicit. Can you help me find it? Please - @ichifangirlincrisis-blog

5. Hey I was asking on the good omens community about a fic I'm trying to find and someone said maybe you could help. So basically it's an ineffable bureaucracy one shot that was released not long after season 2 and they were on a train talking about Gabriel's upcoming trial and Beelzebub was trying to convince him not to willingly fall to hell but Gabriel was all like "what do you only love me cus I'm an angel?" And Beelzebub's like "no I love you no matter what but I don't want you to feel this pain." And it gets kinda angst but only for a moment and it's really sweet and it was so good. I can't remember the name or any more info then that I'm sorry if that's not enough - @autisticrage

If you know any of these fics please include the number in your reply! Thank you :)

- Mod D

[thecatsofus]

-ˋˏGirlfriendˎˊ

warnings: cheating(ellies gf is a total bitch, yet thats not a reason to cheat so dont cheat!!), just fluff ig, kinda angst, lmk if i missed anything.

a/n: i was listening to girlfriend and i thought about it but DON'T. CHEAT. a trump supporter at my house and im writing lesbianism. sorry about this being so short yall😞

Mai was the worst girl you've ever met.

Not even because she was dating Ellie, but because she was an actual bad person. Mai was always mistreating everyone, including her friends AND Ellie.

She constantly cheated on Ellie, barely spoke to her in a whole month, everytime Ellie's with you she gets possessive and jealous as if she didn't cheat on Ellie every week with a different guy.

You were always telling Ellie she was a bad person, but she never listened to you. She actually did, but she was so afraid that Mai would tell everyone all the things and secrets that Ellie trusted on her.

You grew tired of it. Mai was trying to forbid Ellie to even talk to you. You used to hand out every day and now? It's barely once a month. And when Mai is angry at Ellie she always says she'll forbid Ellie to even talk to you, block you and make you disappear from Ellie's life forever.

Mai knew she wasn't a good person, she knew it. She did all that on purpose. She never really liked Ellie, she just hated you. Why? Well.. Let's say in fifth grade her "boyfriend" started liking you and broke up with her because of you and you didn't even said yes to him. Yes, fifth grade. She still has rancor over something so stupid. Let's see what she'll say about this.

In a month that Ellie's lucky, Mai let her hand out with her friends, she's at your house. Whenever she can, just to scape her crazy girlfriend. Or course Mai can't know about this because Ellie's lucky to go out with her friends. Not with you. So she said she was at Dina's when she's actually watching a movie with you.

She's sitting next to you, her head on your shoulder and your hand on hers. Of course if Mai saw this she'd go crazy, more than she is. Hell, there's no need for that. You and Ellie are just friends and did that all the time. You do it even with Dina that dates Jesse and he doesn't say nothing.

"Two months ago I was arguing with Mai and she almost hit me." Ellie says as she snuggles closer to you, clear that she's about to cry.

Two months ago was the last time you saw Ellie, so during the movie she was randomly dropping stuff that happened in this last two months, she was always so calm around you she even forgot about Mai and all her problems.

"She what?" You never felt so angry in your life. "Ellie she's a total bitch how can you not see it? Jesus I'm fucking tired of it. It's been two months, Ellie. Two months since I've last seen your face or even spoken to you because apparently she blocked me on your phone. I really don't understand why you can't just break up with her."

Ellie sat up and looked at you, never letting go of your hand. Her eyes are watery and you can see it, a held your hand tigher as a few tears run down her cheeks, when she was crying she always needed to hold on something to feel safe.

"I'm sorry.. I never wanted it to happen I'm just scared she'll tell everyone what I told her about me and- I'm so sorry." Ellie started crying and immediately leaned on you, she'd fall if she wasn't sitting. What she was feeling guilty for? If there's someone to blame here is Liam in fifth grade.

"Hey, don't cry. Stop it, yeah? It's not your fault. It never was and never will be." You wrapped your arms around her before you placed your hands in her face soaked in tears. "Oh, Ellie.. Don't cry, sweetheart." You look at her, feeling pity. She was blaming herself for something she shouldn't. You wiped her tears with your thumb, kissing her forehead, something you always did when she was crying.

But now she was looking at you differently. A way that always made you flustered, you can't really explain why, you are just friends, right? Forever.. Right? And she had a girlfriend. Definitely friends forever.

Your thoughts were interrupted by someone's lips on yours, you don't even have time to think before she pulled away and once she did you can see fear in her eyes.

Not fear of losing her girlfriend. Fear of losing you.

Losing that friendship she longed for. A friend she loved in ways she couldn't explain.

"I.. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that.." She says desperately, not wanting to lose you over that.

You look at Ellie, speechless. You had no idea what to say or do. But for one moment you forget she even has a girlfriend.

You brought her face close to yours, kissing Ellie's lips tenderly. The gentlest kiss she'd felt in months, after all Mai just came to Ellie when she wanted to fuck.

Fuck, Mai still exists.

You pull away from Ellie, looking at her with amusement in your eyes and she had the dorkiest smile ever. The girl is a sweetheart even when she's cheating.

FUCK, THAT'S CHEATING.

You pull away from her, surprised about what you two have done. But when you look in her eyes again you both start laughing. You know damn well Ellie is feeling guilty, she'll never admit that to Mai, though.

You just know that after that day Ellie is way more free now. She broke up with Mai the next day.

The girl threw a tantrum about it, saying Ellie was ungrateful, that she always did everything to see Ellie happy, that she loved Ellie and blah blah blah, but Ellie didn't listen to any of it, she just gathered her stuff from Mai's house and left.

Ellie started acting more like herself again, not scared to make her girlfriend get mad at her over nothing, because you weren't like Mai.

[yungistiny]

Heaven And Back ═ chapter one

[ S. Mingi ]

chapter one: first time

╚═════════

summary: mingi is trouble wrapped in bleached hair and piercings and maybe that’s exactly what y/n needs

warning: emo mingi, stoner/dealer mingi, virgin reader, use of drugs, eventual smut

pairing: mingi x afab reader

genre: romance, drama, smut

word count: 2.7k

chapter two coming soon

masterlist

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

The afternoon sun was too bright when y/n cracked open one bleary eye. Her laptop still hummed faintly on the desk across the room, a reminder of the all nighter she’d pulled to finish the ancient history essay that had been eating her alive for a week. She shifted under the covers, limbs heavy and slow, the ache of exhaustion buried deep in her bones.

Ningning’s bed was empty, again. No surprise there. Her roommate had practically moved into her girlfriend’s apartment two months ago, leaving y/n alone in their tiny dorm more often than not. She didn’t blame her. Honestly, she envied her a little.

Y/N groaned softly, pulling the blanket over her head just as someone knocked, loudly, on the door.

“Open up, zombie!” came her best friend, Wooyoung’s unmistakable voice, bright and mischievous as always.

“Go away,” she mumbled into her pillow.

The door creaked open anyway, Wooyoung barging in like he owned the place. He wore ripped jeans, a too big hoodie, hair dyed a fading red and a grin that could probably get him out of murder charges if he ever needed to.

“Come on,” he said, flopping down at the foot of her bed. “You’ve been hiding like a gremlin all week. I’m taking you out.”

“I’m tired,” Y/N whined, shoving the blanket down enough to glare at him. “I just finished the worst essay of my life. I think my brain is broken. My body’s next.”

“You sound so dramatic,” Wooyoung teased, poking her ankle. “You just need some good food and like… a good joint or something.”

She blinked at him. “I’ve never even smoked before.”

“Exactly!” he said, eyes lighting up mischievously. “It’s time you live a little. C’mon, get dressed. We’ll grab lunch, and then…” he wiggled his eyebrows. “you’re coming with me to pick up.”

“Pick up…?” she repeated slowly, still too sleep drunk to follow.

“My dealer,” he said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Cool guy. You’ll like him. He’ll probably corrupt you faster than I can.”

Y/N groaned again, but there was already a little tug deep inside her chest, a stupid, restless curiosity that made her sit up.

Maybe a little corruption wasn’t the worst thing right now.

Maybe it would even make her feel something again other than absolute exhaustion.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

By the time they made it to the tiny Korean BBQ spot Wooyoung loved, y/n was a little more awake, but not by much. She sat slumped in the booth, poking listlessly at her bowl of rice while Wooyoung inhaled an embarrassing amount of meat across from her.

“You look like you’re about to pass out into your food,” he said around a mouthful, grinning.

“I feel like I’m about to pass out,” Y/N muttered. She picked up a piece of bulgogi, stared at it for a second, then put it back down with a sigh. “I don’t know, Woo. I thought college would be different. Like, fun or exciting or… at least bearable.”

He set his chopsticks down, suddenly a little more serious. “Burnout’s a bitch,” he said, shrugging like he knew the feeling too well. “No one tells you that the dream gets heavy real fast.”

She leaned her head against the cool window beside their booth, closing her eyes. “It’s like I’m either exhausted or guilty that I’m not doing more. Even when I’m doing everything.”

“You’re doing fine,” Wooyoung said firmly, kicking her gently under the table. “You just need to chill out for a bit. Reset your brain.”

She cracked one eye open. “With a joint, apparently?”

“Damn right,” he said, flashing her a shit eating grin. “I’m telling you, one hit and you’ll forget all about ancient history and essays and existential dread.”

“I doubt that,” she said, but she smiled weakly, the first real smile she’d managed in days.

They finished eating, and after Wooyoung paid , because “this one’s on me, stress girl” they headed out into the chilly afternoon. The sun was already starting to dip low, painting the sky in muted golds and blues.

“You sure it’s okay for me to come?” Y/N asked as they turned down a quieter street, tucked between a row of low, grungy apartment buildings.

“He won’t care,” Wooyoung said, jamming his hands into his hoodie pocket. “Mingi’s chill. Honestly, he’ll probably offer you something the second you walk through the door.”

“Mingi,” Y/N repeated under her breath, tasting the name. It already sounded like trouble.

Wooyoung led her up a narrow set of stairs to the second floor of a rundown building. He knocked twice, then opened the door without waiting for a response.

“Mingi!” he called out.

Inside, the apartment smelled faintly of smoke and something sweet, like vanilla and musk mixed together. It was cluttered but cozy, low lighting, worn in furniture, a beat up guitar leaning against the couch.

And then he appeared.

Mingi.

Tall, broad shouldered, moving with a lazy kind of confidence as he padded out from the kitchen, a blunt tucked between his fingers. His hair was short and bleached almost white, messy like he’d just rolled out of bed. His black painted nails tapped rhythmically against the lighter in his other hand. A glint of silver flashed when he licked his lips, a tongue piercing, and when he stretched, his thin black tank top pulled tight against his chest, revealing the faint outlines of piercings underneath.

Y/N mouth went dry.

Wooyoung clapped Mingi on the shoulder casually. “This is Y/N,” he said. “Freshman, never smoked before, tired of life.”

Mingi’s eyes, sharp, dark, unreadable, flicked over her slowly. Not in a creepy way, but like he was reading her, cataloguing her.

“First time, huh?” he said, voice low and rough around the edges.

Y/N swallowed thickly and nodded.

Mingi smirked, slow and easy. “Lucky me.”

And in that moment, as he passed her the freshly rolled blunt with two fingers and a wicked glint in his eye, y/n knew deep in her gut she was standing at the edge of something she wasn’t going to be able to walk away from.

Maybe she didn’t even want to.

Mingi dropped onto the couch like he had all the time in the world, legs spread wide, head tipped back lazily against the cushions. He patted the empty spot beside him without a word.

Y/N hesitated for half a second before Wooyoung nudged her forward with a grin. “Don’t be shy. He only bites if you ask nicely.”

She shot Wooyoung a look, but her legs moved on their own, carrying her to the couch. She sat gingerly beside Mingi, leaving a careful few inches of space between them. He smelled like smoke and something darker underneath, leather and salt and skin warmed by the sun.

Mingi lit the blunt with a flick of his lighter, the flame briefly illuminating the sharp angles of his face, his heavy lidded eyes, the silver glint on his tongue when he tucked it against his cheek, the piercings beneath his tank top catching just enough light to hint at more hidden things.

He took a slow drag, holding it in before exhaling in a thick ribbon of smoke that curled lazily toward the ceiling. Then he turned to her, blunt pinched between two black painted fingers, the polish chipping slightly.

“Here,” he said, voice dipping a little lower. “Nice and easy.”

Y/N heart hammered painfully in her chest. Her fingers brushed his when she took it, his skin was warm, calloused. She raised it to her mouth like she’d seen people do in movies, feeling Mingi’s gaze heavy on her face, and inhaled.

Bad idea.

The smoke burned her throat instantly, her lungs seizing in protest. She coughed, hard, covering her mouth as her eyes watered. Wooyoung barked out a laugh from where he was perched in a chair nearby.

Mingi just chuckled low in his chest, the sound sinking into her skin like heat. He plucked the blunt back from her fingers, tapping it out against the edge of an ashtray.

“Not bad for a first timer,” he said, flashing her a grin full of teeth.

Y/N wiped at her watering eyes, already feeling the faintest buzz starting to prickle at the edges of her brain. Everything felt just a little softer, a little slower. Her body didn’t feel so heavy anymore.

“You good?” Wooyoung asked, still laughing.

She nodded, a breathless laugh escaping her. “Yeah… yeah, I’m good.”

Mingi leaned in a little closer, close enough that she could see the silver stud glinting against his tongue when he spoke.

“You wanna try again?” he asked, voice a slow drawl. “I’ll help you.”

There was something in the way he said it, low and thick, curling at the edges of her spine, that made her pulse spike.

Before she could second guess herself, y/n nodded.

Mingi brought the blunt back to his lips, took a slow, deep drag, and then leaned toward her, closer, closer, until there was barely an inch between them. His hand cupped her jaw, tilting her face up gently.

“Open,” he murmured.

And y/n, without even thinking, parted her lips.

Mingi exhaled the smoke into her mouth, warm and sweet and dizzying, and y/n inhaled it like a prayer, like a sin she already knew she’d beg forgiveness for later. His thumb stroked a lazy line across her jaw as he pulled back, watching her through heavy lidded eyes.

The world tilted a little on its axis.

Everything inside her, the stress, the exhaustion, the constant weight she carried, faded for a second under the heavy rush of heat pooling low in her belly.

Wooyoung whistled low under his breath. “Damn. Should I leave you two alone?”

Mingi just smirked, slow and dangerous.

Y/N didn’t even know what to say. All she could do was sit there, lungs burning, heart hammering, feeling like she was slipping, falling straight into the kind of trouble she didn’t think she wanted to be saved from.

Not now.

Maybe not ever.

They hung around for a little while longer, the conversation lazy and looping. Mingi had this easy way about him, he didn’t say much, but when he did, it was sharp, funny, a little wicked. Y/N found herself smiling more than she had in days, even if half the time she couldn’t tell if it was from the weed or the way he looked at her like he already knew exactly how much she was unraveling inside.

Wooyoung eventually slapped his hands against his thighs and stood up. “Alright, you know why I’m really here,” he said grinning.

Mingi snorted, pushing up from the couch and disappearing into the other room for a second. He came back with a small purple colored ziplock bag, tossing it lazily to Wooyoung, who caught it one handed.

“Same as usual,” Mingi said, settling back down with a grunt.

Wooyoung fished some crumpled bills out of his pocket and dropped them onto the cluttered coffee table. “Pleasure doing business as always, my good sir.”

“You’re a pain in my ass,” Mingi said without heat.

Then, as Wooyoung tucked the bag away and moved to grab his jacket, Mingi leaned forward, snagging another rolling paper from a small tin on the table. His ringed fingers made quick work of it, the movements practiced and slow, like he had nothing but time.

Without being asked, without even really looking at her, Mingi rolled another blunt. This one he licked closed, sealing it with a flick of his tongue that had y/n stomach tightening sharply.

“For you,” he said, voice low and rough, that half smirk curling at the edges of his mouth again. “Your own.”

Y/N hesitated, glancing at Wooyoung, but he just shrugged, grinning like he knew exactly what was happening here.

“Consider it a welcome gift,” Mingi added, his fingers brushing hers deliberately as she took it.

The weight of it felt heavier than it should in her hand. She tucked it carefully into the inside pocket of her hoodie, heart thudding stupidly in her chest.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice a little too soft, a little too shaky.

Mingi just leaned back, arms draped lazily over the back of the couch, eyes glinting with something unreadable.

“See you around. ” he said, like a promise.

Wooyoung whistled low under his breath as they stepped back out into the cold hallway. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, laughing as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “You’re so fucked.”

Y/N didn’t answer.

She just kept walking, the little weight of the blunt in her pocket like a brand against her side, Mingi’s rough voice still echoing in her head.

Maybe she was fucked.

And maybe, deep down, she didn’t even mind.

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The cafe was its usual mid afternoon slow shift, a few students hunched over laptops, a couple regulars nursing cold coffees they’d been nursing for hours. The hum of soft indie music filled the air, blending with the hiss of the espresso machine behind the counter.

Y/N leaned against the counter, chin resting in her hand, fighting to keep her eyes open. She hadn’t been sleeping well, every time she closed her eyes, her mind spun with deadlines and half finished thoughts… and the lingering memory of rough fingers brushing hers, a deep voice rumbling….

see you around

The blunt still sat hidden in her desk drawer, untouched. She didn’t know why she hadn’t smoked it yet, maybe because part of her knew it wasn’t just a blunt. It was a line, and once she crossed it, she wasn’t sure she’d come back the same.

Wooyoung dropped a dirty rag on the counter in front of her with a grin. “Wake up, sleeping beauty. I’m not getting stuck on closing shift because you faceplanted into the pastry case.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, flipping him off half heartedly.

He laughed, tossing the rag into the back sink, and then straightened suddenly, eyes flicking toward the door.

Y/N turned and her stomach flipped violently.

Mingi stood just inside the entrance, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his black jacket, bleached hair spiked and messy. He looked a little out of place in the soft, pastel washed cafe, all sharp edges and dark energy but he didn’t seem to care.

He met her eyes across the room, and that slow, dangerous smile curved his mouth.

“Uh oh,” Wooyoung muttered under his breath, grinning like this was the best entertainment he’d had all week. “Your little crush is here.” He teased.

Y/N glared at him, cheeks burning, and shoved off the counter, smoothing her apron down nervously.

Mingi sauntered up to the register, stopping just close enough that she had to tilt her head back a little to meet his gaze. “Told you I would see you around.” He said, low and easy.

Y/N tried to roll her eyes, tried to pretend her pulse didn’t trip over itself. “Hey,” she managed, voice only slightly breathless. “What can I get for you?”

Mingi leaned in, bracing his elbows casually on the counter. His eyes dragged over her face, lingering just a beat too long on her mouth before he spoke. “Coffee,” he said finally. “Black. Whatever’s strongest.”

“Coming right up,” she mumbled, turning quickly to pour it. She could feel his gaze heavy on her back the whole time.

When she slid the cup across the counter to him, their fingers brushed again, deliberate this time. A little spark zipped up her arm, sharp enough to make her breath hitch.

Mingi didn’t pull away. He held the cup steady, eyes dark and unreadable. “You smoke that yet?” he asked, voice pitched low so only she could hear.

Y/N mouth went dry. She shook her head, almost imperceptibly.

Mingi’s smile deepened, slow and wicked, like he knew exactly why. Like he knew exactly what she was afraid of.

“Good,” he murmured. “Wait until you got someone around who knows how to take care of you.”

He tapped two fingers lightly against the side of his cup, like a secret, like a warning and then turned, sauntering back out into the cold afternoon without a glance back.

Y/N stood frozen behind the counter, heart thudding painfully against her ribs.

Wooyoung let out a long, low whistle from behind her. “Yeah,” he said, laughing. “You are so fucked.”

She couldn’t even argue.

Not when every part of her was already aching for more.

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