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lovifie · 8 months

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Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 5: Home Sweet Home

Masterlist

Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

Aprox 5k words

W: Captain Price x Reader x Kyle Garrick (the poly 141 is building).

“I honestly think this is an improvement from your flat.” Ghost comments leaving your bag on a chair. “It is sad, but it's true.”

And he is right. The safehouse you have been assigned to is not ugly, it is just… artificial. Decorated to look lived in, but you know it isn't. Photos of people you don't know on the walls, books you haven't read and blankets you can tell are going to be itchy. But no one can trace you back here.

Ghost drove you here, Price made Soap and Gaz stay with him to have a chat with them. Chat, you are glad to be able to avoid, at least for now.

The safe house is not too far away from the base, but still enough not to be linked to it. It is a nice neighbourhood, better than your last one, it makes you want to go for a walk.

“Try to always stay inside, alright?” Ghost tells you sitting beside you. He caresses your thigh looking at your face. “I know it sucks to be stuck inside, but this whole thing would lose its purpose if anyone sees you leaving or entering the house.”

“So I can’t never leave the house?” You ask looking down. His gloved hand still caressing your thigh, and your hands find their way to it, playing with the fabric of his glove.

“You can, just need to be careful. But never alone, unless it is an emergency. Please, if Price hears you are wandering around alone he'll have a stroke.” He chuckles, stops moving his hand and instead puts the palm up letting you play with his hand. “You should have seen him yesterday when he woke up.”

“Was it that bad?” You ask, guilt flooding your heart at the mental image of Price panicking because of you.

Ghost nods. “He thought that we were pulling a prank on him, that we have you hidden. He made us show him our room, and then he went to look all around the base. Until I showed him the security footage of you leaving he didn't stop looking around.”

“I feel like an asshole.” You admit, unable to look at him and focusing on your hands together with his. Your fingertips find their way inside the glove and you begin to caress the palm of his hand mindlessly.

“It was a pretty asshole move.” Ghost chuckles looking down at your hands. “But I can understand why you would do it, everyone else too. No one blames you for doing it, birdie. You know that, right?”

It is then that you notice the current situation, Ghost is sitting side by side with you. Thigh pressing yours, one of his hands is on your lap with your own hand inside his glove caressing his skin, feeling the warmth. His other arm is resting on the back of your chair, and his hand find its way to your jaw, caressing your cheek with his thumb and moving your head to look at him.

He is wearing a basic black balaclava, no paint around his eyes, and you can see his blonde lashes for how close he is to you. Unconsciously, you look to where you know his lips are and you notice movement under the mask, he is smiling. He sighs and presses his forehead with yours. “C’mon, birdie. I made a promise this morning, don't make me break it so fast.”

“A promise?” You ask curious as you look back to the hands on your lap.

“Yeah, to Price. You are not supposed to know it.” He chuckles. “I shouldn’t tell you.”

And you shouldn't push it, you should be nice. But you are nosy and he hasn't said no jet. So you look up to him, through your lashes and ask softly. “I won't say anything… please?”

He groans closing his eyes and pulls his head back looking ahead of you. “How can I say it?” He pulls the hand from behind your head to rub his face. “Price and I talked last night, about how since we met there has been an… attraction between all of us.”

“Okay.” You agree, feeling a light blush rise on your face.

“And we talked about how we did a poor attempt at having control over it. And how we basically jumped you, and that was wrong of us, like, you were literally handcuffed when you were with Gaz.” He says sighing, feeling embarrassed with himself. “And I definitely shouldn't have done it the way I did.”

“It's okay.” You admit, still unable to look at his face. “I didn't complain… wait.” You say finally looking up at him. “You knew Gaz and I were…”

“Humping each other like teenagers? Yeah, I noticed.” He says chuckling when he sees your shocked expression. “Birdie, I took the car for maintenance the next morning to check the car's suspension because of how many potholes and curbs I hit. And you think I didn't do it or purpose?”

You cover your face with your hands chuckling in embarrassment, Ghost hugs you from the side bringing you close to his chest making you feel the vibrations from his laughs. “Are you getting shy now, birdie?” He asks and you nod, unable to answer. He then gets close to your ear and whispers: “You weren't shy when I had my tongue up your ass.”

You shriek slapping his arms to get away making him laugh with his whole chest and when you manage to get up, he grabs your hips keeping you within arm's reach. “Let me go, I'm going to sleep.” You say trying to keep some kind of pride.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, was just playing.” He says standing up and hugging you again. “Just like how I played with your clit.”

“Shut up!” You exclaim, heating up, whether it is from embarrassment or something else, is not important right now. He laughs again and drops a kiss on the top of your head as a peace offering: “Go to bed, birdie. I'm sure you didn't get much sleep last night.”

You slap his arm one last time before walking down the hall, but he calls you again making you turn: “Take this, is a burner phone, so no one can track you through the phone. Price, Soap, Gaz and my number are already on. If you need to send anyone else a message or something, we will send it through your phone back at base, the antenna back at the base makes it impossible to track.”

You take the phone from his hand and slap your forehead when you see the time. “I need to call my boss!”

“About that, you don't have to worry about it. You are now on a witness protection system, so you actually can't just go. Price is going to talk to him, and he will figure it out. Price will take care of it, don't worry.”

You nod, not completely convinced, and after getting a kiss on your forehead you get inside the room, ready to sleep.

A couple of hours later, the clatter of pans and dishes wakes you up. You look at the time and realise you have slept almost all morning, so you stretch still on the bed, stand up, wash your face in the bathroom and make your way to the kitchen when you are met with Kyle's back.

“Morning.” You say smiling walking up to him. He whips around looking disproportionately scared by the situation and you look at him confused.

“Fuck sake, doll. We gotta get you a bell or something, almost shit myself.” He says with a hand on his chest and you laugh at him.

“That's what you get for being a snitch!” You exclaim putting your hands on your hips.

A perfect smile appears on his face that gets you weak on your knees, and he cups your face still smiling. Dammit, pretty boy. “I just couldn’t help it, luv. You look irresistible when you are flustered.” He says giving you a peck on your cheek. “Are you hungry? I brought you some groceries and bought you lunch.”

You look over his shoulder to check what he bought, and satisfied with his choice you bit the bait of his peace offering. “You are safe for now.”

The safe house is far from a mansion, but still, it is much better than your flat. More than one person can fit into the kitchen, there is a sofa and an armchair in the living room with a TV on a coffee table. Down the hall, there are two rooms and a bathroom with an actual bathtub inside. So yeah, a lot better than the old one.

Kyle and you have lunch on the sofa, and after you both stay seated basking in each other company. You can't help but stare at him and think about the first time you were close to him.

In just the last two days, you have grinded yourself against Kyle's dick, kissed and gotten yourself eaten out and fingered by Price, gotten your ass eaten and pussy fingered by Ghost and kissed and throat fucked by Soap.

Truly an interesting Tuesday.

It's not like you had never done those things before, but still, before them, it has always happened after a relationship was built and not in the order it happened that's for sure.

Fooling around with Kyle was rejuvenating, you are not even old, but still, it felt like fooling around with your first boyfriend. Horny enough to need to feel each other but not ready still to face the vulnerability of getting naked in front of each other.

With Price, he made you feel like a fucking goddess. As if he should be the one thanking you for eating you out. You could hear him moan against your cunt and there was not a centimetre of skin he didn't kiss that night. Such a soft way to make love it almost didn't make sense how nasty he make out with your pussy that night.

Simon was the opposite like a professor teaching a bratty student their place. Any of these men could have you on your knees begging if they put their mind into it, but Simon made you want to act up. Pull his string and step on his nerves. He left you so vulnerable, completely naked and exposed to him, and still, there was not a second where you didn't feel safe.

And Johnny. Oh, sweet, sweet Johnny. You couldn't wait to get your hands on him again. Something about the way he whined your name when you had only barely touched him, the way his pupils almost got a heart shape when you kneel before him.

But that little shit had a big mouth, not that he meant to cause harm, you know that. Unlike Gaz, the second little shit truly was striking for gold this morning. And now, he was sitting on the other side of the sofa, with your feet on his lap looking all innocent and completely unbothered by everything.

So calm.

It bothered you.

Little shit doesn't deserve peace and calm.

Little shit deserves a kick on his balls.

But just when you are about to, you remember his face last night when he saw you enter the mess hall, looking terrified and like a wounded puppy. He looked so worried, and he hugged you so warmly. So the kick doesn't arrive, instead, you plant the heel of your foot right on his crotch forcing a grunt out of him.

“Easy, luv” He says rubbing your ankles.

“You deserve worse.” You say looking at his face as you keep pushing around.

“Rude, why do you say tha-at?” He asks half moaning the last word.

“You were going to rat me out this morning.” You answer beginning to move your foot up and down his growing erection.

He closes his eyes, resting his head on the back of the sofa. “You just look so delicious when you are flustered, doll. Couldn't help myself, would you forgive me?”

“I'm not sure yet, I'm still deciding.” You respond, pressing with a bit more force on his tip earning a moan from his throat.

“Take all the time you need.” He mumbles as he starts to move his hips against your feet.

Confusion floods your brain for a second, Ghost couldn't even kiss you this morning because he had given his word to Price but Gaz was happily humping your feet for his satisfaction.

Did Price don't make him promise? No, that doesn't sound logical. Kyle was the one who started everything, Price must have made him promise more than everyone else. Kyle simply doesn't care about it.

Price won't like that.

If only Price got to know Gaz had broken his promise.

There it is, your kick on his balls.

Figuratively.

For now.

You sit up, removing your feet momentarily earning a whine from Gaz at the loss. He looks at you with a pout on his face, cheeky bastard. It only lasts until he sees you undo his belt, and then a boyish smile appears on his face.

He reclines with a smug smirk on his face and looks up to you as you get his growing boner free. You lick a thick strip of spit into your hand and start to stroke his dick slowly. You look at his face and he looks back delighted.

“If you treat me like this every time I bother you, I'm not stopping ever, luv” He says between whispered moans.

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” You ask chuckling.

“When my mouth is busy.” He admits, licking his bottom lip and leaving his mouth half open so moans can slip easily.

“It's that so?” You ask, and with your free hand you raise your t-shirt exposing your tits with a little bounce that Gaz doesn't miss by the way his dick twitch in your hand.

“Fuckin’ hell, luv.” He says beginning to move his head, but you pull his hair back and pressed your tit against his head which he gladly begins to suck onto making you groan softly.

“Much better.” You sigh closing your eyes enjoying the feeling of his warm mouth against your nipple, you move your hand from his head down to his jaw caressing it and feeling the muscles of his jaw flex as he makes out with your boob.

Slowly and shamelessly, Gaz's hand find its way down your back. He doesn't bother to play coy, and as soon as the hand reach your waist, it goes under your pants and your underwear grabbing a handful of your ass cheek making you whine.

You press your thumb and index in his cheek, pressing between his teeth forcing him to open his mouth and say: “Play nice or I won't play with you, Garrick.”

He smiles at you as much as he can with his cheeks pushes and sticks his tongues out to lick your nipple. “Yes, ma'am.”

You could still kick him, literally. It would be faster and it'll probably erase the stupid smug smile from his face. But patience is a virtue.

So you shove his face against your boob again, and sigh when you feel his fingers travel down your lips. He moans when he feels your wetness just for your disgrace, the last thing you needed was to grow his ego. He slips them between your lips, gathering up the wet arousal pooling on your panties. He moves then to the front and begins to rub your clit with his fingertips.

There is precum leaking from his tip, and you bring your fingers up to press your thumb against his slip and circle it, smearing his precum around it, making him moan.

“Let's go to the bed, Kyle.” You half mumbles half moans.

“Let me just do it here, doll. Inaugurate the living room” He mumbles against your skin. You slap him on the back of his head and stand up.

“I'm planning on having most of my meals on this sofa, so get up.” You argue pulling his hand.

“If you are still hungry, I have something you could eat.” He jokes as he stands up, making you look at him with a grimace look on your face making him laugh.

“Don't ever say anything like that, Kyle. For god sake.” You say shaking your head as you walk your way to the room. You open the door and quickly take the rest of your clothes. You look back at Gaz who is looking at you a bit stunned and you chuckle. “I think it would make it a lot easier if you took off your clothes.”

He pulls his t-shirt from the back of his head throwing it somewhere, and gets rid of his clothes as he walks up to you. When he was almost bent over himself on the sofa, whining around your boob, it was easy to get confident and boss him around. Now, with both standing up and as he gets closer to you, you need to look up because of the size difference. He notices it too, how you start to speak softer and your expression is kinder.

He chuckles to himself, positioning his hands under your arm and effortlessly throws you back on the bed, crawling over you instantly. You try to sit up, leaning on your elbows but a firm hand on your chest gets you flat on the bed soon.

You look up to him and see him cock his head like a dog. “What?” You ask and it makes him smile with that fucking toothpaste ad smile. “There it is, I thought you lost your voice. You went silent so suddenly.” He teases.

“Oh, shut up, Kyle.” You say chuckling and pinch his nipple making him chuckle as well. For a second you stay chuckling, looking at each other and enjoying the opposite company. Until suddenly it feels a bit too intimate, and almost at the same time, you make eye contact feeling shy regardless of the lack of clothing.

So you cup his face with both hands and pull him close kissing him on the lips. If he can’t see the affection in your eyes, he can't accuse you of anything.

He caresses your hip, drawing circles with his thumb as he slowly reaches your mount and you slightly spread your legs involuntarily.

“Eager little thing.” He mumbles against your lips smiling, and you bite back: “I can feel you leaking onto my thighs, Kyle. Don't get cocky.”

He chuckles under his breath and without more preamble one of his finger finds his way inside your cunt as he uses the palm to rub your clit making you moan. Wet kisses travel down your throat when you move your hands to the back of his face, his finger’s movement becoming faster and not for long before a second one finds his way inside as well. You lower one of your hands to rub his erection against your tights, feeling the wet spot at his tip growing.

Fuck does it feel good to be desired.

Little moans of your name leave Kyle's mouth against your neck giving you goosebumps and causing you to squirm in his hand needy of more.

“Kyle… please” You moan throwing your head back.

“Not yet, doll. I wanna see you come as prettily as you did on the car again before I get my dick inside this little tight cunt.” He groans against your cheek.

You moan at his crude words arching your back, twisting your face to kiss him. Teeth clashing in the process, but too desperate to care. The band on your stomach snaps almost surprising you, and for a second you can hear your ears ring. Kyle’s hand is still rubbing your clit, but almost like a feather now helping you ride out your orgasm.

You make eye contact with him, checking on you to see if you are alright and when he is satisfied he sits up, pulling you closer circling your legs around his slim waist and palms his erection; rubbing your clit with his tip. “Are you all right, luv? Need another second?”

“Fuck me already, Garrick” You tease propping yourself up on your elbows.

Kyle smirks at you and slowly enters his dick stretching you out; he leans down closer to your face and you both moan on each other mouth as he enters. Slowly enters, and then draws back, just to enter a bit more. Little by little, as he kisses your mouth passionately. Your hands on his back slightly scratch his skin making him groan softly between moans, his tongue enters your mouth caressing your own.

This all started as a way to get Gaz in trouble, but honestly, you are starting to hope it doesn't work. Just so you have to try again.

“Fuck, doll. Such a sweet lovely cunt” He mumbles, already losing his mind, punctuating each word with a roll of his hips. “Sucking me in so fucking nice.”

It shouldn't turn your own as much, such crude words, but you are not really thinking clearly and every word that leaves Gaz’s mouth is like a compliment to your core that makes you clench against his dick.

“Do you like that, doll?” He asks against your neck dropping little open mouth kisses. “Hm? When I tell you how fucking godly you feel, luv?”

“Yes, fuck, yes” You moan back, curling your legs and pushing him closer, wanting him to go deeper as if you were not feeling him up to your cervix already.

His hand found its way down to your clit, circling it with his fingertip, making you meowl at the sudden extra stimulation. You can feel your orgasm approach, and you open your eyes to look at Kyles's face.

But when you open your eyes, the first thing you see is Price leaning against the doorframe; cigar in hand, a disapproving look on his face and a formidable hard erection on his pants. You lock eyes with him, a shameless smile creeping in and making Price shake his head with a similar smile on his face.

The focus quickly moves back to Gaz when he starts to thrust more shallowly, rubbing your clit quickly. “Cum for me, please. I wanna feel you come around me, please, please, doll, please.” He moans against your skin, and completely ignoring Price's presence, you come undone in harmony with Gaz.

Little black dots blur your vision for a second because of the surprising pleasure, almost missing the way Gaz moans your name we come undone following you. You are not sure if you are seeing or imagining when you see Price walk out of the room, and when you try to raise your head to see you come face to face with Gaz. “You okay, luv?” He asks with heavy breathing looking at your face and smiling.

You nod at him smiling, simmering in the afterglow of your orgasms. Only breaks away when something drops next to your head on the bed.

Gaz and you turn to look at Price who is now standing behind Gaz. “Shit.” Gaz mumbles trying to peel away from you, only for Price to press a hand on his back pushing him back against you making you both groan since Gaz is still inside you.

“No, no, please, don't stop on my behalf. I wouldn’t like to bother you.” He says dryly, no vestige of humour in his voice.

Gaz looks at you, making eye contact for a second until both of you turn to look at whatever it was that fell next to you, and when you see the lube bottle it finally sinks in what the two of you have just done.

Both of you quickly try to look at him, kind of guilting the other to not get the short side of the stick. “Settle down you pair of brats.” Price says, he sits on the back of Gaz’s thighs, pressing him deeper making both of you softly moan again. He uncaps the bottle, pouring a fat blob of it in his fingers and pulling Gaz’s hair back making him arch his back once he throws the bottle back. “Unlike this brat, I’m not gonna fuck you, birdie. But the two of you put on such a show that has me in need of some… release.” He says while he caresses Gaz’s hole with his fingertips, getting through the muscle ring as he enunciates the last word.

“Shit, Captain…” Gaz moans, feeling your cunt clench when you feel his dick twitch back to life for a second time. “Don’t “Captain” me now, Kyle. What about your truce? Did any of my words get to your head or was all your blood down on your dick when I was talking to you?”

Gaz is not the only one getting the reprimand, a new cocktail of feelings is developing inside you. There are some hints of shame, the shame of getting caught mid-orgasm, the shame of Price barely acknowledging you at all, and the shame of feeling like you are intruding on whatever arrangement they had before you came into the picture. Again, the little self-aware thoughts that permanently reside in your mind appear, making you aware of the situation.

A loud moan from Gaz brings you out of it before they can materialise, and you come face to face to the fuck out face of Price after bottoming inside of Gaz. Having sex with Gaz was gentle, with more roll of hips and deep thrusts; but Price? He is obviously annoyed with the both of you, and his hard and fast thrusts are proof of it.

You can feel Gaz’s dick hardening inside you stretching you again. And even though he isn’t physically pulling in and out, Price's thrust forces his hips to roll against you giving you a delicious constant stimulus both inside and against your clit. That, joint with the fact that Gaz is moaning in such a filthy way against the skin of your neck quickly has you moaning in tandem with him. Bitting your lips to quiet them, feeling like they are not wanted, like you are just collateral damage to Price and Gaz's little get-together.

You force your eyes close when you feel Price look at you, he furrows his eyebrows when he notices you looking uncomfortable. Are you not enjoying it? Why do you turn away from him?

He switches his rhythm, caressing Gaz’s hips with a hand and bending down to cup your face with the other. He grazes your bottom lips freeing from your bite and drops his thumb inside your mouth making you lick it. He drops down to your ear to whisper: “Don't run from me, sweetheart. Not again, please.”

He raises his hand on Gaz's hips to hug him on his chest, pulling him close to him, and biting him on his shoulder. With what little space that earns Gaz, he begins to move between you and Price, earning a moan from everyone in the room.

It is such a filthy scene, so porn-worth, still, there is such a palpable sense of care from everyone involved. Fuck, the moment they get bored of you it's going to hurt like a bitch.

“I can't!” Gaz moans, the overstimulation getting the best of him. Poor boy getting his prostate destroyed and his dick milked at the same time. You can't barely manage yourself, you pity him. But again, that's what he gets for snitching.

“Yes, you can. And you will.” Price moans against his neck, and at the same time he drags his hand down your body just to rub your clit causing a chain reaction when you clench for the reaction, causing Gaz to groan and clench as well.

Is not much longer until you feel Gaz finish inside you for a second time, drooling against your shoulder skin while he hugs you needy of something to ground him. You quickly hug him back when you feel yourself spilling over the edge, and just a couple of seconds later Price finishes as well inside of Gaz.

He drops himself over the two of you earning a groan from you for being squished by both men, but you only get a chuckle in return from the both of them. “At least like this, we know you aren’t going to go running again.” Gaz murmurs against your skin only for you to hear, warming your heart.

“The two of you are gonna give me a headache, I just know.” Price mumbles kissing his bite mark on Gaz’s shoulder while making eye contact with you. “Get washed, dressed and come down to the living room. We have a little meeting the five of us.”

When he goes to sit up, you quickly grab his shirt pulling him close and ask softly. “Can we stay like this for a little more, please?” The neediness and clinginess being too hard to ignore.

Kyle and Price look at you as if you are the most precious thing on the whole planet and quickly nod going back to the weird body pile you were on. “Yeah, of course we can.”

Heyaa, how are you? 💗

Hope you liked the new chapter, please please drop a comment if you like it or if there is any scenarios you would like me to include 💗

Thank you again for all the support, you guys are the best

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deliciousangelfestival · 21 days

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The Imperfect Couple - 3

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

A/N: Steve Rogers is older than Bucky here.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , -

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

You arrived at the new apartment, feeling a small sense of relief for finally being under a different roof than Caroline’s. The thought of enduring the same torture as before made your skin crawl.

As you settled in, you broke the silence. “Your mom offered the attorney to us.” You remembered how you had insisted the divorce attorney make it as quick and painless as possible. “Why didn’t you finalize it?”

Bucky’s gaze remained steady. “Not once did I think you were actually going to leave me.”

“There’s no marriage between us,” you shot back, your voice sharp. “If you’d finalized it, you could’ve easily married a woman your mother approved of.”

Flashback Start

You recalled every time Caroline mentioned another woman’s name as if they were more suited for Bucky. “You know, Rachel just graduated summa cum laude from Harvard in social politics,” she had said at the rehearsal dinner.

Then, on your wedding day, as you and Bucky sat together, trying to enjoy the celebration, Caroline approached, holding hands with a stunning woman. “Bucky, look who’s here? Katherine just arrived from London.”

Caroline’s voice dripped with approval. “Both of them went to the same law school.”

You clenched the fork in your hand so hard you thought it might snap.

Why the hell was she introducing another woman to you on your wedding night?

Did she expect you and Bucky to have a threesome with Katherine?

From that moment, you knew your place—an outsider who didn’t come from the pedigree Caroline so desperately wanted for her son.

When you finally left the house, you remembered her raising her champagne glass with a smirk. “I always knew you weren’t the one.”

Flashback End

“They need someone with a spotless record,” Bucky said, breaking you from your thoughts.

You stood there, your emotions a mix of anger and disbelief.

“I’m not making excuses for you. I know the old me wasn’t good enough, that I couldn’t be the man you could rely on,” he admitted, his voice thick with regret.

He looked at you with a desperation that caught you off guard. “You could poison my drink, stab me in my sleep. I wouldn’t fight it. I’d let you.”

His eyes, usually so confident and composed, were now filled with a deep, pained sincerity. The weight of his guilt seemed to crush him, and the shadows of remorse darkened his features. His hands trembled slightly, betraying the calm facade he tried to maintain.

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest. How could he say that so casually? What kind of twisted love was this?

“That’s how much I need you,” he confessed, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You’re using me,” you accused, your voice shaking with a mix of fury and sadness.

Bucky didn’t deny it. “Like I said, it’s a business relationship. But I’ve trusted you from the beginning. Put my faith in you.”

He reached out, taking your hands in his, holding them together like a prayer. “And I hope we can work together. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance to work in the White House.””

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The following day, you met Steve, the future Presidential candidate. He greeted you warmly, his genuine smile easing some of the tension you felt. You’d met Steve and his wife, Peggy, a few times before—honest people who never treated you like you didn’t belong. Steve had even defended you whenever Caroline or others looked down on you for not being in the same league as them.

"I’m so glad you’re here," Steve said, clasping your hand. "When did you arrive?"

You chuckled softly. "Well, when three Secret Service agents showed up at my door, who was I to say no?"

Steve chuckled too, though there was a hint of awkwardness in his eyes. He tilted his head slightly. "Let’s talk."

You walked together, the air thick with unspoken words. "I know it’s difficult for you to be here. I owe you big time," Steve began sincerely. He had witnessed your marriage crumble, and despite his and Peggy’s best efforts to support you and Bucky, things had fallen apart.

You sighed. "What confuses me is, why me? He could’ve chosen another woman, someone way more qualified."

Steve leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "To be honest, I think you’re the best option. He probably won’t show it, but Bucky was happy when he heard you were coming."

You scoffed, glancing over at Bucky, who was watching the two of you from a distance. "Impossible."

As you scanned the room, you spotted someone familiar—your brother, Tim. Excusing yourself from Steve, you made your way over to him.

"I’m glad you’re here," Tim said, his voice filled with warmth, though his eyes carried a weight of their own.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "I can’t believe you. You knew what I went through, and yet you’re working with him? You sucked up to him."

"Look at me," Tim said firmly.

You glanced down at him, seeing the determination in his gaze.

"Who’s going to hire a disabled person like me?" Tim who seated on his wheelchair, his voice wavered slightly as he spoke. He had been born with both legs, but when bone cancer struck his left leg, the doctors recommended amputation to stop it from spreading. That surgery had shattered his dreams of becoming a professional tennis player.

"It was James who offered me a job," he emphasized, "with a high salary."

Tim continued, "You can keep your anger, but face it, Y/N—they won’t pay the bills. For people like me, I need more money to survive in this world."

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Bucky appeared beside you.

"Hi, Tim."

"Hey," Tim replied.

"I'm going to steal your sister for a bit." Bucky turned to you. "Our next schedule is couple’s therapy," he said, his voice calm but authoritative, cutting the conversation short.

You hated this part. The thought of attending therapy with Bucky made your stomach twist with unease. You shot Tim one last look, a mixture of concern and frustration in your eyes, before following Bucky out of the room.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

As you and Bucky sat across from Aiden, the therapist, the atmosphere was thick with unresolved tension. The room was simple yet comfortable, with soft, neutral tones that were supposed to be calming but did little to ease the storm of emotions swirling within you. You could feel the weight of Bucky's presence beside you, a familiar heaviness that both comforted and suffocated you.

Aiden leaned forward, his expression neutral but attentive. "So, what are you feeling right now?"

You hesitated for a moment before speaking, your voice laced with frustration and exhaustion. "I don’t think I have the courage to live another day in his family. His mother is the devil spawn. Even seeing her shadow triggers me." The words spilled out of you, raw and unfiltered, a reflection of the years of pain and resentment you'd kept bottled up.

Aiden nodded, his gaze shifting to Bucky. "And what about you, Mr. Barnes?"

Bucky's eyes remained fixed on a spot on the floor, his voice steady but lacking its usual conviction. "I didn’t think that way. As long as we stick together, we can get through everything." There was a hint of desperation in his tone, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as you.

You turned to look at him, disbelief and anger simmering beneath your calm facade. "From the beginning, we should’ve never gotten married. You only focus on yourself, never bothering to look behind you. Me, trying my best to fit into your circles."

Your voice wavered, the painful truth of your words cutting through the silence like a knife. You had always known you were out of his league—young and innocent, believing that love could conquer all.

But you had been wrong, and the reality of that mistake was too much to bear.

His mother’s voice echoed in your mind, the countless times she’d told you that you weren’t good enough, that you didn’t deserve him.

"Your mother was right. I don’t deserve you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky’s expression tightened, his guilt etched into every line of his face. "I’m sorry. I really am sorry." His voice cracked, the weight of his regret finally breaking through.

He had never wanted this—to see you hurt, to see you broken because of him and his family. But the damage was done, and the guilt gnawed at him, relentless and unforgiving.

Aiden observed the exchange, his eyes narrowing slightly as he spoke. "I see that you’re the victim here, ma’am. And your former mother-in-law is the main reason why." He glanced at Bucky, his voice firm. "Mr. Barnes, your mother hurt her deeply, and now you must do everything in your power to make amends."

Bucky nodded, his voice thick with emotion. "I will. I'll do anything to erase the hurt you’ve received from her." The sincerity in his voice was palpable, but it was clear that the guilt weighed heavily on him. He had failed to protect you, to shield you from his mother’s venom, and that failure haunted him.

Aiden’s voice softened, but there was a steely resolve in his words. "Use this pain, both of you. Let it fuel you to confront Caroline, to reclaim your strength. Don’t let her win. Turn this pain into power."

As you sat there, the enormity of the situation began to sink in. You had been through so much, and the path ahead was uncertain. You had expected to loathe the couple’s therapy, but surprisingly, it turned out to be a beneficial experience.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

After the couple's therapy, the silence between you and Bucky was palpable, each of you grappling with the raw emotions that had surfaced.

The therapy had stripped away your filters, leaving you both exposed—your anger and frustration flowing freely. Bucky remained stoic, absorbing your harsh words with an almost resigned patience.

Returning to the Barnes household, the atmosphere was thick with tension. The room was filled with Bucky’s family: his parents, Julius and Caroline; his brother, Shawn, who struggled with cocaine and felt diminished by his inability to meet Caroline’s lofty expectations; and Hazel, Bucky’s sister and Nate’s mother.

Hazel, having felt overshadowed as the spare child, had chosen a career in fashion to escape the constant comparison to Bucky, who was seen as the golden child.

You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for Shawn and Hazel, both of whom shared your misery under Caroline’s disdain. But that sympathy was tempered by their enjoyment of watching you suffer, thanks to their mother’s contempt.

Greg, a family friend, was the bearer of the news that the whole family would attend the upcoming convention event.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you said firmly, your tone clipped.

“Why… why?” Greg asked, confused.

Caroline rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Here we go.”

Bucky tried to interject, “Don’t…”

You cut him off with a steely gaze. “After that consultation, you still want to continue this?”

Caroline's eyes narrowed. “I knew we couldn’t trust her.”

Shawn chuckled, and Hazel remained indifferent.

“Quiet,” Julius commanded, his voice brooking no argument. The room fell silent.

With a sense of finality, you approached Caroline. “You’re so jealous of me,” you said, your voice dripping with disdain.

Caroline’s eyes widened, a mixture of anger and shock. “What are you talking about?”

“Because you know I’m going to get what you can’t have,” you smirked, savoring the moment. “Being the wife of the Vice President.”

“You bitch,” Caroline spat, something snapped inside her. Deep down, you were right—she was jealous of you. You were younger, smarter, and luckier. It was her dream to be in your position, but now it seemed like she had paved the way for you instead. What’s worse, you didn’t fit her criteria at all. She felt you didn’t deserve this.

Without warning, Caroline lunged at you, grabbing your hair. The two of you were soon locked in a fierce struggle, yanking each other’s hair and grappling with a fury that left no room for remorse. The physical confrontation was liberating, an outlet for all the anger you had been holding back.

You felt no fear and no guilt towards the seventy-year-old woman. At last, you could release all the anger you had been holding in.

Waiting for karma takes too long, and you can’t expect God to do all the work. So you took this chance to give her a lesson she won’t forget.

“Stop! STOP!” Bucky and Julius’s voices cut through the chaos as they tried to separate you. Shawn and Hazel, their faces a mix of curiosity and apathy, slowly backed away from the scene.

It was a struggle to pry you apart; Caroline, in her rage, was more unruly and disheveled compared to your own controlled fury.

“Hufft,” you adjusted your disheveled dress and hair, glaring at Caroline with a fierce, triumphant look. “You know what? I hope your son wins, so I can rub my new position right in your face.”

Caroline’s expression was one of shock and fury, her face a portrait of someone who had been dealt a blow she wasn’t prepared for. Her eyes were wild with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

“You’re absolutely right,” you looked at Bucky, your voice steady. “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance to live in the White House.”

Caroline’s gritted her teeth.

“If the world wants to see us as a happily married couple,” you said with a cold smile, “I’ll give them the most blissful marriage they’ve ever seen. It’ll be the kind of marriage everyone talks about when they mention a perfect union.”

Bucky’s eyes widened in surprise at your cold declaration. For a moment, he was stunned, but as he processed your words, admiration and pride flickered across his face. He straightened, a hint of a smile forming, clearly impressed by your bold resolve and newfound strength.

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kesujo · 28 days

Text

Chapter 5: Miss Pet - Part 1

Previous chapter here.

“Oh, he’s coming to.”

Taeyeon’s voice was the first thing Seojun heard when he came to.

“Seojun?” So loud was the second voice that Seojun instinctively recoiled. “I’m so, so sorry!”

“Quiet down, Fany.”

“Oh!” Her voice came out as a hushed whisper, or at least that seemed to be the intention because the volume of Tiffany’s voice was more or less the ‘normal’ of Taeyeon. Seojun found himself smiling at the well-meaning gesture. “Sorry!”

“It’s OK,” he said, his voice coming out a little croakier than he would’ve liked.

“You’ve been out for over half the day; how are you feeling?” Taeyeon’s gentle, motherly voice was like a soothing wave of healing that washed through him.

“Really? Over half a day? I mean, not that bad honestly. Still a little bit fatigued, I think.”

“If you don’t mind, I can help with that,” Tiffany offered, cautiously putting one knee on the bed he was sitting on.

“Uh…”

Hearing the hesitation in his voice, Tiffany quickly added, “It wasn’t my Trait’s fault, it was mine! We were supposed to take occasional breaks but I was so engrossed that it completely slipped my mind. But what my Trait does is remove all feelings of fatigue and strengthens a body’s resistance to it. I promise it’ll help!”

Seeing Tiffany panic at the hesitation in his voice and interpreting it as a mistrust in her gave Seojun an injection of guilt. “Oh, no, sorry I wasn’t saying that because I didn’t trust you, I just … my brain was being a little slow since I just woke up.”

“…Oh.” Taeyeon laughed at the relieved demoness, a smile breaking out on Seojun’s face as well. “So, is that a yes?”

“So does that mean…” implying it still felt a bit rude despite the ease at which succubae seemed to address sex and related activities.

“You don’t mind kissing me, do you?”

“Oh, no, I don’t!”

Tiffany giggled at the perhaps over enthused response from Seojun, climbing fully onto the bed, her soft hands snaking around to the back of his head while her face neared his. And although he had just spent many hours fucking her, seeing Tiffany’s face come up to close to his caused his heart to race, the actual sensation of her soft, velvety lips on his causing the organ in his chest to go into overdrive. Seojun could swear he could hear every individual heartbeat as Tiffany’s tongue teased open his lips, a few seconds later a warm, slightly viscous liquid being passed into his mouth.

Feeling the foreign substance in his mouth felt simultaneously strange and arousing; he felt his dick twitch in response, his entire body shivering slightly as he felt the fluid travel down his throat after Tiffany pulled away.

His reaction to the transfer of bodily fluids aside, its effects were instantaneous. He could immediately feel the weariness in his muscles evaporate, replaced with the same vigor as during their sex binge hours before. “So?”

“Yeah—wow, I definitely feel better, thanks.”

“I think you can do better to demonstrate your gratitude.” It was Taeyeon who brought the proposition up to Tiffany, whose ears perked with interest. She turned towards the smaller succubus, eagerness in her eyes. “I can’t imagine it felt very pleasant to spontaneously fall unconscious like that.”

Seojun, however, was completely oblivious to the suggestive nature of the proposition, instead jumping in hastily, “Oh, no! It’s OK, I’m fine!”

“But don’t you think Tiffany should compensate you for your toils?” Seeing Taeyeon’s fingers curl around the straps of her skimpy top and pulling them down allowed Seojun to hear the suggestiveness in Taeyeon’s voice.

“Oh…” The semi-mortal man felt dumb for replying like that, but he couldn’t bring himself to agree. After all, Taeyeon and Tiffany were much older than him, and his Korean upbringing couldn’t help but feel hesitant demanding something from his elders.

“If you’re willing to settle for me, I’ll happily do anything you ask of me!” Tiffany’s eager reply partially blew away the hesitation Seojun was feeling, the rest evaporating with Taeyeon’s next few words.

“Also, I want to help demonstrate that sex with Tiffany isn’t always like that. Especially if you’re to bond with her, I want you to understand that, done properly, is just as great as it was yesterday without the negative side-effects following.”

“Oh, you’re so considerate! Thank you, Mistress!”

“Make sure to also thank Seojun for giving you the chance to redeem yourself.”

Tiffany turned around, bowing deeply. Seojun gulped, his eyes darting to the eyeful of her tits he captured, her nipples nearly visible from how loosely the top was hanging onto her ample chest. “Thank you so much, Master!”

Seojun wasn’t exactly sure when Tiffany and Taeyeon decided to slip into the roleplay or how they even decided it amongst themselves. However, now that it was happening, Seojun felt obliged to take part. He reached out to stroke her hair, a more content kind of pleasure coursing through his body at the immensely pleasing sensation of running his hand through what felt like a cloud. “You’re such a good girl, Tiffany.”

Tiffany nuzzled her cheek against his hand, another warm surge of joy surging through his body. Seojun had his fair share of experiences with cute pet behaviors, and Tiffany definitely matched if not exceeded that level of adorableness. Seojun could hear Taeyeon chuckling in the background, Tiffany enjoying Seojun’s hand for a few more seconds before the prey-turned-master retracted it. Tiffany opened her eyes and looked at him, a clear and unadulterated excitement in her eyes. “Thank you so much Master! I don’t deserve your kind words!” Seojun understood that they were doing roleplay … but was she really acting, or were these her genuine feelings?

“Before we start, you should feed more from Tiffany. Saliva definitely won’t suffice. So while you’re offering your pussy to Seojun, I’ll be using mine to warm up his dick.”

“I—” the jealousy was clear in her eyes, but she ended up swallowing the protest clearly visible in her pouty expression, and conceded. “I understand.”

“Are you OK with that, Seojun?”

The one thing that Seojun was unclear about was what his relationship to Taeyeon was, but her gentle inquiry confirmed that they were of equal status in this ‘scenario’. “Of course, Taeyeon.”

Taeyeon crawled onto the bed as well, Tiffany shuffling forward and taking his shirt along with her. Seojun aided her, the cloth coming over his head while Taeyeon’s hands wrapped around the rim of his pants and boxers, pulling them off in one swift motion.

Out sprung his semi-erect dick, precum splashing onto the plush surface of Tiffany’s slowly moving bottom. Her tail immediately sprang into action, collecting it and spooning it directly into her mouth. “Mmm, god, even Master’s precum is delicious…” her deep, sensual moan made him harder, the stiffening rod captured by the dainty yet firm grip of Taeyeon’s fingers.

“You’ll get plenty later if you continue being a good girl. OK?”

Tiffany nodded excitedly, slipping off both her bottom and the undergarments before turning around, presenting her delectable bubble butt to Seojun. Her hands reached around as his vision gradually filled with the delightful view of the excitable succubus’s ass nearing his face, her hands pulling the plump cheeks apart to reveal a pair of damp vaginal lips. “Master, are you ready?”

“I am.”

The confirmation was all Tiffany needed to back up the rest of the way, Seojun meeting her wet pussy lips with his own lips. Immediately, he could hear a soft sigh, her legs body shaking against his torso. As his hands took the job of keeping her tight, plump butt cheeks separated, Taeyeon transitioned from a firm handjob to shifting her own womanhood, radiating with heat, over his erect cock.

“Mistress…” Tiffany moaned, Seojun’s muted moan joining hers and Taeyeon’s as she penetrated herself with his cock.

“Be a good girl, Tiffany,” Taeyeon’s strained voice reminded Tiffany, fighting over the sound of her pleasure from Seojun’s tongue running across her wet folds, “and you’ll get your Master’s cock too.”

“Yes, Mistress…”

But while Tiffany was scornfully pouting in jealousy over Taeyeon’s access to Seojun’s cock, Seojun himself was in complete bliss. Even after an entire night of groping and feeling Tiffany’s firm, plush ass in his hands, it wasn’t enough. It felt like it would never be enough. He wanted more, squeezing and rubbing the pliable, taut skin beneath his palms, digging his fingers into the soft yet firm skin, the experience was made better by the sweet taste of Tiffany’s nectar dribbling onto his lips. Seojun didn’t let up, channeling the intense lust from Taeyeon vigorously riding his cock into kissing Tiffany’s vaginal lips with as much gusto and passion as possible.

“Ah…” Tiffany’s torrid moans continually streamed out of her mouth, arching her back and resting her arms on his torso to give him better access to her ass and leaking entrance. Her eyes fell onto Taeyeon, who was lost in her own world of pleasure.

Taeyeon’s hands were placed firmly on Seojun’s hips, rising until barely half an inch remained inside her before slamming back down onto his crotch. With every connection, bits of her honey splattered onto Seojun’s crotch, creating an increasingly damp landing area for her ass. The firm, crisp sound of her ass slamming onto his crotch gradually turned into a more muted, wetter noise.

Seojun could barely hear it though, Tiffany’s soft upper thighs pressed firmly against his ears. With his eyes closed as well, his other senses sharpened—namely, his sense of taste and touch. He became more aware of the amount of sticky substance from Tiffany’s womanhood dotting his face, the almost water-like consistency of her wet folds. He could feel the shivers sent up Tiffany’s spine every time he ventured downwards to flick the small, erect stub sitting below her entrance with his tongue and savor the endless supply of the succubus’s honey-sweet nectar flowing into and around his mouth.

He could feel Taeyeon’s heat. It was suffocating, burning, only intensified by the torrent of juices her pussy was smothering his cock with. He could feel the flesh, wet walls convulsing, almost massaging, the length of his shaft. He could feel it trying to suck him back in when Taeyeon pulled up and tighten its embrace after Taeyeon sheathed his dick completely. He could feel the flexing of her legs and elasticity of her more-than-supple ass with every stroke, and feel her cervix gently kiss his engorged tip after each downward thrust.

Seojun was so overwhelmed with lust and ecstasy, he was sure that if he was still a regular mortal man, he would have long passed out by now.

“Mistress…” another forlorn mewl escaped Tiffany’s lips, her breath shaking with arousal as she watched Taeyeon ride Seojun’s dick with fervor. The sound of Taeyeon’s ass clapping against Seojun’s crotch area could be faintly heard, nearly overpowered by the lust-charged sighs and moans from the two women atop the succubus’s servant.

Seojun carefully moved his hands away from Tiffany’s ass, around and towards the front. He moved his face downwards, his thumb gently but sturdily rubbing circles around the hard nub atop her slit. His other hand braced itself against her upper thighs, his index and middle fingers rubbing along the outside of her wet labia.

“Aah, Master!”

Her breathing grew deeper, her hands moving upwards and rubbing her own boobs. “Does that feel good, Tiffany?” Seojun asked, temporarily separating himself from her leaking slit, his fingers continuing their harsh rubbing along it.

“Yes, Master! It feels amazing!”

Satisfied, Seojun dove back in, capturing her lips in her nether regions in a liplock. His thumb continued its gentle massaging motions, the index finger from the other hand drawing lines across her inner thighs. He could tell that his every action was working magnificently, her moans growing louder and her legs shivering with every line drawn across the sensitive skin so close to their hot connection.

After finally getting into the rhythm of things, Seojun directed his attention to his mistress, whose hot vaginal walls were tightly clamped around the girth of his cock, sliding fiercely along its length. It took him a few seconds, but when he finally captured Taeyeon’s rhythm, he followed her downward stroke with upwards thrusts.

“Oh! Seojun, fuck!”

Taeyeon’s body shuddered against Seojun’s as a wave of ecstasy crashed down her body, his cock hitting all the way into her cervix. It was a feeling that Seojun figured he would’ve never been able to enjoy with his smaller-than-average dick size, but true to Taeyeon’s words, her pussy compensated for his size. This was one of the many, many reasons why he was thankful he found Taeyeon—or rather, Taeyeon found him: with Taeyeon, Seojun’s deprecating self-talk about his dick size completely disappeared. Every ‘feeding session’ they had, not only did he get to enjoy Taeyeon’s eternally tight, wet pussy, but Taeyeon always conveyed her satisfaction of him with her every movement. The way her eyes squeezed shut, the way her luscious lips parted, the breathy sound of her lustful sighs and moans, the vigor she always used, everything communicated to Seojun that his dick size was a complete non-issue to the succubus.

Maybe here he should say something sappy about ‘finally being accepted’ or something. But really, Seojun was just happy to fuck Taeyeon any chance she presented to him. Because man did every single time feel like a straight shot to cloud nine.

“Mistress…” this time, Tiffany’s voice came out as a whimper, a slight break in her gasping and moaning at the apex of his thrusts.

Although her voice was muted, Seojun could still detect the impatience in her voice. He could more so feel it in the way her hands restlessly rubbed his mid-torso area and her legs drumming against the side of his head. Feeling bad, he separated from her temporarily to speak. “Taeyeon, don’t you think Tiffany’s been a good enough girl to get a reward?”

“Hm, you may be right honey.” Hearing the pet name caused his heart to skip a beat.

Seojun had a conception that their relationship was not much more than a servant and a mistress. Of course, Taeyeon was kind and caring, and in that way she at times acted like a gentle, caring noona, but apart from those two, he figured there would be nothing further, especiallynot a romantic relationship. After all, Taeyeon was much wiser and smarter and more beautiful and talented and would undoubtedly live well past himself. In the grand scheme of her life, Seojun’s would pass by like a blink of an eye.

While Taeyeon calling Seojun ‘honey’ wasn’t the first pet name that she used to address him, but they were always to serve a roleplay—as they were now. And Seojun understood this; they were merely playing a role, but still, even the slightest hint at a romantic relationship between the two made his heart flutter. It was all but inevitable for such a normal man like him to fall in love with such a divine being like Taeyeon, especially after the amount of intimacy they’ve shared in the past weeks.

But Seojun didn’t dare bring this up. After all, he was stuck with Taeyeon for the rest of her life—and depending on how she felt about him, that could last as long as a couple hundred years or a couple of days if Taeyeon ever felt too weird about Seojun’s feelings for her to continue feeding on him. Even though she was a sex demon, Seojun wouldn’t put it past Taeyeon to feel guilty for continuing to feed on someone who had fallen in love with her if she didn’t reciprocate.

“Go ahead and turn around, Fany.”

“Th-Thank you, Mistress! Thank you, Master!”

Tiffany scurried off, Seojun taking a second to try to shake the sticky liquid accumulated on his face but to no avail. Taeyeon, seeing this, giggled, Seojun’s heart skipping another beat upon making eye contact with her. It was weird; his cock was currently buried deep inside her pussy, and not for the first time either—hell, probably not even the tenth time—yet it was seeing her eyes curve up with her lips that caused his heart to stir.

“You made quite a mess on poor Seojun’s face. Was he that good?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Tiffany’s head was turned, facing his, and reached down to wipe the residual juices that she had left behind. “Master’s tongue and fingers felt so good that I couldn’t help myself.”

“Are you ok darling?”

“I’m fine, babe.” Seojun was hesitant to respond with the pet name, his heart missing another beat but this time from anxiety at potential backlash from Taeyeon for calling her ‘babe’. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to faze Taeyeon at all; in fact, she seemed to like it, the corners of her lips curling upwards even further.

“Make sure to drink your fill, alright? And Fany, make sure to cum lots for your Master, OK?”

“I will! Although Master is so good that I doubt I’ll have any trouble with that,” she replied in a chipper voice, settling back down onto Seojun’s face. He took a second to situate himself and shortly after got back to work. A melody of moans arose from the taller demoness, her legs folded on top of themselves to alleviate her body weight from her pleasure-giver but spread apart enough that reconnecting with her labia wasn’t an issue.

Taeyeon’s movements had slowed down, moving from the fierce riding she was doing to a steady grinding of her hips, stirring the rod inside her like a straw inside a cup. Her tail whipped around her body, the tip materializing into the very object that was sheathed to the hilt inside her, and before Seojun had much of an opportunity to note how strange it felt to feel the cool air of the room along with the scorching heat of Taeyeon’s insides, the tail-penis was shoved straight into Tiffany’s backdoor.

“Oh! M-Master, fuck!” Seojun and Tiffany shuddered in unison, the feeling of another, considerably less damp and fleshy set of equally scorching hot walls clamp around his dick and the sensation from the tightness of her sphincter muscles travelling up and down the length of his dick as Taeyeon pumped her tail furiously inside the dark-haired demoness causing waves of pleasure to course through the bodies of both parties.

“Language,” Taeyeon warned, her own voice starting to tremble as she quickly picked back up where she left off, her wet groin sloppily connecting with his groin equally wet with the same fluid.

“I-I’m sorry, Mistress!” Tiffany seemed to be unable to keep her voice down, her back arching and her hands on her chest, rubbing the soft bags of flesh and pinching the rock-hard nipples at their peaks.

Seojun was a helpless slave to lust. His hips moved on their own, his fingers working on her clit and his tongue and lips working on Tiffany’s pussy while her other hole was being mercilessly pounded by Taeyeon’s tail-penis. He wasn’t sure if he was even thinking, even that heart-stopping sensation of love replaced with pure lust. The entire room exuded with the intense lasciviousness of all three parties, the rattling of the bed beneath them echoing about the otherwise empty house.

“Master, I’m close!”

“Be a goof gir and gib Maftur lafts of cum.” Seojun’s voice, although muffled, was audible and coherent enough to serve as the impetus for Tiffany’s orgasm. Heralded by a single, piercing scream, the immortal woman’s entire body succumbed to pleasure, torrent after torrent of her hot, sweet nectar squirting straight into Seojun’s mouth. The semi-mortal man tried his best to collect as much of it with his mouth, but his concentration was shaky at best—hearing the lewd scream of ecstasy, feeling her body vibrate as her orgasm wracked her body not only with his face but with the dick lodged firmly into her rear entrance, and feeling Taeyeon’s pussy tighten in response to seeing her fellow succubus succumb to an orgasm was more than enough to push the building dam over the edge.

“Urgh, fuck,” Seojun grunted, jets of white, viscous fluid shooting straight into the ass of Tiffany and the vagina of Taeyeon.

“A-Ah! M-Master, thank you for filling my tight little ass with your precious cum!”

His hips continued to thrust in and out of Taeyeon as he rode out his orgasm, the euphoric release driving his muscles to ride out the orgasm until it subsided a few seconds later. It barely took any time for Seojun to catch his breath, Tiffany’s Trait keeping his stamina high and his dick hard.

The energetic demoness unmounted Seojun, and upon seeing his face covered in her nectar, hurriedly moved over to help him clean his face off. “Thanks, Tiffany,” Seojun said after his face felt adequately clean.

She beamed in response. “Was I a good girl?”

After taking a few seconds to catch her breath, Taeyeon unsheathed Seojun’s cock, a barely audible whine pushed through her closed lips. It sprang free from its hot confines, soaked to the bone with Taeyeon’s juices, bits of it splattering onto his abdominal area. “What would you say, honey?”

“I think it’s appropriate for her to pay back me performing oral sex on her by her doing the same to me.”

Tiffany perked up, her eyes gleaming with excitement. Seojun couldn’t help but smile seeing Tiffany’s tail waving about excitedly like a dog wagging its tail. “Mistress, may I?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you! Thank you so much too, Master!”

Not wasting a single second, Tiffany and Taeyeon swapped position, Tiffany’s body hovering over her legs while Taeyeon hugged him from behind, Seojun having moved to a seated position. The semi-mortal man bit back an aroused sigh, the immensely satisfying feeling of Taeyeon’s ample bust pressed against his back causing a small shudder to roll down his system.

“Do you like my tits that much, babe?”

Another, much stronger shudder rolled down Seojun’s body at the sensation of Taeyeon’s hot breath against his ears, the pet name spoken with such an alluring tone that he had to clench his fists to fight back what would’ve otherwise been a perhaps embarrassingly loud moan.

Before he could answer though, Tiffany piped up. “Would you like me to use my boobs first or my mouth, Master?” Seojun’s gaze shifted away from Taeyeon’s head that was resting on his shoulder to the submissive succubus kneeling atop his legs. Her upper body was folded over her legs, but even so, Seojun could see the curve of her ass sticking out, still maintaining the moist appearance from before. Her voluptuous rack was resting inches away from his erect cock, the innocent inquisitive expression on her face providing a stark contrast to Seojun’s bulging cock inches below her chin.

Fuck, that’s sexy.

“Why don’t you put those tits of yours to use?”

“Gladly!”

Tiffany shifted forward, smothering his shaft still damp with Taeyeon’s honey with her mounds. Most of his member disappeared into the warm abyss of Tiffany’s tits, her hands holding them at the sides and applying a firm pressure onto it.

“Shit,” Seojun hissed, a shaky breath pushed out his mouth.

“Does Master like this?”

The way her eyes curved upward, leaving enough space open to see the absolute joy exuding from her brown orbs, her invitingly plump red lips also curved upwards into a dazzling smile, everything about her joyous expression was almost impossible to disagree with. “It feels fucking amazing.” But even without Tiffany’s infectiously joyous expression, Seojun would’ve said the same thing: it was like two warm pillows of flesh were tightly embracing the length of his shaft. Out of all the females he had copulated with so far, Tiffany definitely had the biggest boobs. And while this wasn’t the first time Tiffany had given him a titjob, the warmness and softness of her milk jugs, not to mention their volume and how thoroughly it enveloped his contrastingly rock-hard cock, felt heavenly.

“Does Master like my boobs?”

“Your Master loves them, Fany.”

The compliment clearly delighted the succubus, using greater vigor to squeeze tighter and pump faster. Again, Seojun briefly wondered how much of Tiffany’s reaction was acting because of how genuine her reaction seemed, especially since it can’t have been the first time, or probably even the hundredth time, she received a compliment for her boobs. They were incredibly beautiful, after all: its color was the perfectly pure white of fresh snow in the morning, the skin taught with not even a hint of a wrinkle in sight. They were perky and had a nice, round shape, the areola a nice pink color, at their centers even pinker nipples just big enough that seeing them made Seojun want nothing to do but to bring his mouth to them and suckle on them.

However, at the moment, they were bouncing up and down his shaft, following the gradually increasing speed of Tiffany’s hands.

“Master’s cock feels so good inside my tits, I—” She stopped herself upon feeling a sticky fluid coming in contact with the silky skin on her mounds. Her eyes narrowed in on it, a clear hunger in her eyes; she stared at the streak of white fluid on her white skin for a solid two seconds before painstakingly lifting her head, not bothering to remove the hunger from her gaze. “Master, may I have it?”

“Leave it.” Why was Seojun being so sadistic? He wasn’t sure, but something about denying Tiffany her delicious meal when it was so close to her made him salivate at the prospect of Tiffany’s reaction to finally receiving his dick. “I’m going to cum all over your beautiful tits, and you aren’t allowed to lick any of it off. Instead, you’re going to spread it all over them. Understood?”

Tiffany’s pained expression reminded him of a wounded puppy, but Taeyeon just laughed. “I didn’t know you were like this, honey.”

“This is also for Tiffany’s sake; the more I deny her, the more she’ll enjoy it when I finally fill her pussy with my cum, right?”

Hearing the words made Tiffany go cross eyed, her lust clearly getting the better of her: the speed and ferocity of her titjob increased even further, so much so that Seojun let out a surprised groan through gritted teeth.

“I think you still owe me an orgasm, babe,” Taeyeon whispered into Seojun’s ear, pressing her bosom further against his back, “But don’t let Tiffany know, she might get jealous.” Seojun couldn’t really comprehend the meaning of Taeyeon’s words until he felt that familiar yet still extremely strange sensation of the warmness of whatever his dick was lodged between and the cool air of Taeyeon’s house, that coolness shortly after changing to the intense heat of Taeyeon’s pussy.

“Master?”

Seeing Seojun’s facial expression contort at seemingly nothing, Tiffany’s puzzled expression peered up at him.

“You’re doing very well, Tiffany. You can go ahead and start using your mouth too.”

The proposal completely blew away the confusion from her face, pulling her chest away and dipping her head down onto his stiff shaft. Her torso arched downwards, inadvertently accentuating her ass even more, but Seojun barely had any time to admire it as Tiffany’s warm, wet mouth enveloped Seojun’s cock.

“Ah, fuck,” he groaned again, in both parts from feeling his cock hilting Taeyeon and from feeling the moist cavern of Tiffany’s mouth form a tight vacuum around his penis.

Tiffany bobbed her head up and down his shaft a few times, making sure there wasn’t a square centimeter of his dick not slathered with saliva by her tongue before coming back up. “Master’s cock tastes so good~” she sang, leaning down to plant a few kisses along its wet exterior. Parker could only grit his teeth, holding back the moans from the increasingly aggressive thrusts of Taeyeon’s penis-tail into her vagina.

“And Master’s cock feels so good inside my pussy too~” Taeyeon cooed teasingly, the softly spoken words drifting directly into Seojun’s ear.

“Fuck,” Seojun gasped. Tiffany looked up at him again, one hand gently fondling his balls while running her lips and tongue along the length of his rod.

“Does it feel that good, Master?”

Seojun nodded, although it was a slight lie. While Tiffany’s lips did feel amazing on his hardened member, it was the combined feeling of Taeyeon continually thrusting his dick so deep that he could feel its tip brush against her cervix with each thrust that drew the noise out of him.

“I’m very pleased right now Tiffany. If you continue being a good girl, I’ll let your pussy have my cock too.”

Seeing the sheer excitement in Tiffany’s eyes again, Seojun decided that it couldn’t be all acting. It just looked too genuine. “Really?!”

“You better make your Master cum if you’re that excited,” Taeyeon noted, only the slightest bit of strain in her voice detectable.

If Tiffany noticed, she made no indication of it, her eyes gaining a newfound determination. “Don’t worry Master, I��ll make you cum in no time.”

“A-And make sure you don’t swallow any of it.”

This time, the strain in Taeyeon’s voice was more apparent, but Tiffany was too focused to mind. Taking a second to dribble coalesced saliva onto Seojun’s penis and spreading it expertly along the sensitive skin with her boobs, she gave the swollen tip of the raging cock a gentle kiss before penetrating her lips with them.

“Aagh,” a warbled moan came out of Seojun’s mouth, finally able to let loose all the ecstasy from Taeyeon’s vaginal walls rubbing so ferociously against the same sensitive skin that was receiving kisses from Tiffany’s luscious, velvety lips. “Tiffany, god you’re so good…”

Tiffany tilted her head upwards and shot him a brief yet heartstoppingly gorgeous and sexy eye-smile before plunging the rest of the way down his dick.

“Ah, shit,” another moan came out of Seojun’s mouth the combined feeling of Tiffany’s throat and Taeyeon’s pussy suffocating his cock overwhelming him for a brief second. Drool started dribbling down the corners of her lips and onto his balls, but Tiffany didn’t let it phase her. She continued at a steadily accelerating pace, her throat flexing impressively around the girth of his penis.

“Use those horns.” Although Taeyeon wasn’t saying anything particularly provocative, the inherent sexiness in her voice itself was enough to distract him for a few seconds, only realizing what she was saying when she nudged him with her chin.

Seojun looked down, and sure enough, her horns had materialized out of her head, in the exact right position to be used as handles.

The gargling sounds from Tiffany deepthroating Seojun’s cock intensified as his hands found firm grips on the hard material and pushed her even further down. “That’s so sexy, isn’t it, babe?”

“It fucking is,” Seojun agreed, wanting to close his eyes from the influx of pleasure but not wanting to let the unique top-down vantage point of Tiffany’s impressive deepthroating go to waste.

It took about a minute or two before Tiffany came back up for air, her hair messy and saliva running down her chin. However, Tiffany paid no attention to it, peering up at her ‘Master’ while carefully rubbing her voluptuous tits against the saliva-drenched penis. “Did Master like it? Did Master think the horns were helpful?”

“I did, it felt amazing, and it was extremely helpful, Tiffany. You’ve been a really good girl so far, only a little more until your reward.”

An overjoyed squeal came out of Tiffany’s excited smile, rubbing the semi-mortal man’s cock a few more times with her boobs before diving back down.

“You’re pretty good at this,” Taeyeon whispered to Seojun playfully, reveling in the pleasure of her partner as he once again let out a guttural groan, feeling Tiffany’s throat once again hugging the circumference of his cock.

Seojun couldn’t find a chance to reply, his mind so overwhelmed with lust that it rendered his speech capabilities inert. With his impending orgasm, his movements became more erratic, the grip on Tiffany’s horns tightening and the matching thrust of his hips into Tiffany’s mouth so forceful that tears started leaking out of Tiffany’s eyes. Tiffany seemed not to mind, and in fact seemed to be pushed further by Seojun’s increased intensity and matched it readily.

By the time he neared the edge, he gave a warning before pushing her off. When they met eyes, Tiffany’s expression clearly told one of confusion and disappointment. “Remember, you aren’t allowed to swallow any yet.”

“Oh … ok…” Reluctant as she was, Tiffany obliged, obediently shifting her body so that her chest was level with his cock. It took only a few pumps before the dam burst yet again, flooding the inside of Taeyeon’s waiting pussy yet again while simultaneously splattering Tiffany’s boobs, her chin, her neck, her clavicle, and even parts of her areola and nipples with the sticky white substance.

The most precarious strip was a streak that landed on the corner of her lip, extending to her cheek. Seojun could see the temptation in Tiffany’s eyes, her mouth parting briefly but summarily closing upon meeting Seojun’s cocked eyebrow. Her hand shot up and collected the two streaks that landed on her face, planting his seed on the soft bags of flesh on her chest. Seojun watched, Tiffany’s hot gaze trained on Seojun’s as she ran her hands all along her upper body, smearing the globules of cum all about her pearly white skin until what was left was a thin, shiny covering of Seojun’s seed.

“Good girl, good job, Tiffany.”

Taeyeon sneakily unplugged her pussy and reverted her tail back to its original state before separating herself from him.

“Does this mean…?”

The hopeful expression in her eyes caused another smile to sprout on Seojun’s face, the expression quickly changing when Seojun confirmed with her, “How do you want it?”

Next chapter here.

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dianawinchester03 · 6 months

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Genesis Primis: A Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Book 1 of The Old Testament Series by @dianawinchester03

=====================================

Season One (Complete!)

Prologue - Enter Y/N L/N

Season 1, Episode 1 - Pilot

Season 1, Episode 2 - Wendigo

Season 1, Episode 3 - Dead in Water

Season 1, Episode 4 - Phantom Traveler

Season 1, Episode 5 - Bloody Mary

Season 1, Episode 6 - Skin

Season 1, Episode 7 - Hook Man

Season 1, Episode 8 - Bugs

Season 1, Episode 9 - Home

Season 1, Episode 10 - Asylum

Season 1, Episode 11 - Scarecrow

Season 1, Episode 12 - Faith

Season 1, Episode 13 - Route 666

Season 1, Episode 14 - Nightmare

Season 1, Episode 15 - The Benders

Season 1, Episode 16 - Shadow

Season 1, Episode 17 - Hell House

Season 1, Episode 18 - Something Wicked

Season 1, Episode 19 - Provenance

Season 1, Episode 20 - Dead Man’s Blood

Season 1, Episode 21 - Salvation

Season 1, Episode 22 - Devil’s Trap

Season 1 - Gag Reel

Season Two (Ongoing)

Season 2, Episode 1 - In My Time Of Dying

Season 2, Episode 2 - Everybody Loves A Clown

Season 2, Episode 3 - Bloodlust

Season 2, Episode 4 - Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead Things

Season 2, Episode 5 - Simon Said

Season 2, Episode 6 - No Exit

Season 2, Episode 7 - The Usual Suspects

Season 2, Episode 8 - Crossroad Blues

Season 2, Episode 9 - Croatoan

Season 2, Episode 10 - Hunted

Season 2, Episode 11 - Playthings

Season 2, Episode 12 - Nightshifter

Season 2, Episode 13 - Houses of the Holy

Season 2, Episode 14 - Born Under A Bad Sign

Season 2, Episode 15 - Tall Tales

Season 2, Episode 16 - Roadkill

Season 2, Episode 17 - Heart

Season 2, Episode 18 - Hollywood Babylon (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 19 - Folsom Prison Blues (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 20 - What Is and What Should Never Be (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 21 - All Hell Breaks Loose: Part 1 (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 22 - All Hell Breaks Loose: Part 2 (coming soon)

Season 2 Gag Reel (coming soon)

_____________________

Also available on:

📖; ao3

📖; wattpad

_____________________

Authors Note:

I finally learnt how to do a Masterlist! Hallelujah now life will be easier for you guys. Hope you check out my book and enjoy🫶 I’ll update the list after each chapter release.

Update:

I just want to say thank you to everyone for giving my book a chance. I am very new to writing so I’m no Shakespeare lol, but I’m giving and doing my best. With all the overwhelming endless support and love I’m receiving at this very moment, it’s so much more than I can ask for and so much more than I deserve. I appreciate every single bit from the bottom of my heart🥹

Xoxo

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fvsm4x · 2 months

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𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 - 𝟓

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. ex! gojo s. x fem. reader

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭. Your boyfriend, who you loved more than anything, who was your will to live, broke up with you.

𝐜𝐰. angst / happy ending for reader but not gojo / wc. 4.1k / last chapter / kinda rushed

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5

But it wouldn‘t hurt to give him a second chance, right.?

But as much as you wanted to believe that a second chance could heal the wounds between you, doubt gnawed at the edges of your resolve. The pain he had caused was not something easily forgotten, and the memories of the betrayal still stung like fresh wounds. You had to consider what giving him another chance would mean—not just for your relationship with him, but for your own self-worth, your own sense of dignity.

"Gojo," you began, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside, "you say you want another chance, but can you honestly tell me why? Is it because you've realized what you lost, or because you're afraid of being alone now that she's gone?"

His eyes widened, as if the question had struck a chord deep within him. He struggled to find the right words, his expression a mix of desperation and confusion. "I... I just know that I don't want to lose you. I made a mistake, I see that now. I was stupid, selfish, but I swear, I’ve changed."

"You’ve changed?" you echoed, the skepticism clear in your tone. "How can I trust that? Last time, you promised me the world, only to break me apart when it suited you. How do I know this time won’t be the same?"

Gojo remained silent for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between his desire to make things right and the reality of the pain he had caused.

"I don’t know how to prove it to you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I want to try. I want to be the person you deserve, the one who won’t hurt you again."

You let out a soft sigh, the tension in your chest making it hard to breathe. His sincerity tugged at your heart, but the scars he had left made it difficult to simply accept his words at face value. You had to think about what was best for you, not just what he wanted.

"Gojo," you said slowly, choosing your words carefully, "I need to understand something. What would be different this time? How do you expect me to believe that you're not just saying these things because you're hurt and vulnerable right now? That you won't just fall back into old habits the moment things get tough?"

He looked down, his hands trembling slightly as they gripped yours tighter. "I’ve learned from my mistakes," he said, his voice laced with determination. "I know I hurt you, and I regret it more than anything. I took you for granted, and I was wrong. I can’t take back what I did, but I want to show you that I can be better—that I can love you the way you deserve to be loved."

The sincerity in his voice was almost enough to break down your defenses. Almost. But the reality of the situation loomed large in your mind. You had been here before, heard these promises before, only to be left shattered in the end.

"Do you really understand what you're asking of me?" you asked, your voice soft but firm. "You're asking me to put my heart on the line again, to risk everything for the chance that you might actually change this time. But what if you don't? What if I let you back in, only to find myself back in this same place a few months from now?"

Gojo's expression faltered, the weight of your words sinking in. He knew you were right—he was asking for a lot, maybe too much. But still, he refused to give up.

"I can't promise that everything will be perfect," he said, his voice raw with emotion. "But I can promise that I’ll fight for us, that I won’t make the same mistakes again. I’ll prove to you that I’m serious this time. Just... please, give me a chance to show you."

Your heart ached at the sight of him, so vulnerable and desperate for your forgiveness. You wanted to believe him, to believe that he could change, that he could become the man you needed him to be. But the fear of getting hurt again was a powerful force, one that you couldn't simply ignore.

"I don't know if I can do this, Gojo," you said, your voice trembling with the weight of the decision before you. "I don't know if I can put myself through this again, not after everything that's happened."

He looked at you with a mix of hope and despair, as if he knew he was teetering on the edge of losing you forever. "Please," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Just one more chance. Let me show you that I can be better."

You closed your eyes, the tears finally spilling over as the emotions you had been holding back crashed over you like a tidal wave. The love you had for him was still there, buried beneath the pain and betrayal, but it was overshadowed by the fear of being hurt again.

Finally, you opened your eyes and met his gaze, your heart heavy with the weight of your decision. "Gojo, I need time," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I can't just jump back into this like nothing happened. I need time to think, to figure out what's best for me."

His face fell, but he nodded, understanding that this was as much as you could give him right now. "I’ll wait," he said, his voice filled with a mix of sadness and determination. "I’ll wait as long as it takes."

With that, you slowly pulled your hand away from his, the warmth of his touch lingering even as you stepped back. The distance between you felt like a chasm, one that might never be bridged again. But for now, it was what you needed—to find your own path, to heal in your own time.

As you turned to walk away, leaving him kneeling there in the cold, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had made the right choice. The future was uncertain, the path ahead filled with doubts and unanswered questions. But one thing was clear: you had to choose yourself this time, even if it meant walking away from the man you once loved.

As you walked away, the echoes of your footsteps reverberating through the quiet night, the weight of your decision settled heavily on your shoulders. Each step felt like an eternity, as if the very air around you was thick with the tension of what had just transpired. The distance between you and Gojo grew, but the connection, the history, and the unresolved emotions hung in the air, clinging to you like a shadow.

You couldn’t help but replay his words over and over in your mind. The desperation in his voice, the sincerity in his eyes—were they enough? Could a person truly change, or was it just wishful thinking? The memories of your time together flooded your mind, both the good and the bad, each moment tinged with the bittersweetness of what once was and what might never be again.

But as you walked further, a different voice began to whisper in the back of your mind, a voice that questioned your own choices, your own feelings. You had been hurt, yes, but was there a part of you that still longed for the love you once shared? Was there still a flicker of hope that things could be different this time, that the man you had loved was still in there, waiting to be rediscovered?

You stopped walking, standing there in the dim light of the streetlamp, your breath visible in the cold night air. The silence was deafening, your thoughts swirling like a storm inside your head. You had asked for time, but the truth was, you didn’t know how much time you would need. The wound was still fresh, the trust still shattered, and yet, beneath all that pain, there was a part of you that wanted to believe in second chances.

What if you were being too harsh? What if, in pushing him away, you were closing the door on something that could be beautiful again? The questions gnawed at you, each one more persistent than the last. Could you really walk away from him, from everything you had built together, without giving him the chance to prove himself? Was it fair to judge him solely on his past mistakes, without considering the possibility that he had learned from them?

As you stood there, lost in thought, the memories of the love you once shared began to resurface. The way he used to look at you, the way his laughter would fill the room, the warmth of his embrace on a cold night—it all felt so distant now, yet so painfully close. You remembered the moments of joy, the times when it felt like nothing in the world could come between you. Those memories were precious, and they weren’t so easily erased by the pain he had caused.

But then, there were the darker memories, the ones that cut deep into your soul. The lies, the betrayal, the feeling of being second best—those wounds were still raw, still bleeding, and the thought of reopening them was terrifying. You had worked so hard to rebuild yourself, to find strength in your own company, to remember who you were without him. Letting him back in meant risking all of that, risking everything you had fought so hard to regain.

A small voice inside you, however, urged you to reconsider. People could change, couldn’t they? Life wasn’t black and white, and relationships were messy, complicated. What if Gojo truly had realized the error of his ways? What if he was genuinely remorseful, ready to make amends and to be the partner you needed him to be?

You shook your head, trying to clear the confusion. You had to be sure, had to know that whatever decision you made, it was the right one for you. Turning around, you saw Gojo still kneeling where you had left him, his form barely visible in the distance. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t given up, even though you had walked away.

Was it really fair to expect him to change? Could you risk your heart again on the mere possibility that things might be different this time?

The truth was, you weren’t ready to forgive him. Not yet, and maybe not ever. The wounds were still too fresh, the scars too deep. Giving him another chance felt like inviting more pain into your life, a pain you weren’t sure you could endure again.

You took a deep breath and forced your feet to move, each step taking you further away from the man you once loved. The night was silent, the only sound was the soft crunch of gravel under your shoes as you walked down the empty street. The distance between you and Gojo grew, but so did the clarity in your mind. You deserved more than empty promises and second chances. You deserved someone who wouldn’t make you question your worth, someone who wouldn’t break your heart over and over again.

Gojo remained on his knees long after you had walked away, the chill of the night air seeping into his bones. He stared at the spot where you had stood just moments ago, as if by sheer force of will he could bring you back. But the empty space before him was a harsh reminder that you were gone, that he had lost you once again.

A dull ache settled in his chest, spreading through his entire body as he tried to process what had just happened. He had begged, pleaded, laid his heart bare before you, and yet it hadn’t been enough. You had looked at him with such pain in your eyes, a pain he knew he had caused, and that knowledge cut deeper than any rejection.

He slowly rose to his feet, his legs unsteady beneath him as he tried to regain his composure. The night felt colder now, the darkness more oppressive as he realized how truly alone he was. He had gambled everything on the hope that you might still care, that you might still see the man he was trying to become, but the truth was undeniable—you were done with him. And maybe you were right to be.

As he started walking, his mind replayed every word you had said, every look you had given him. Your voice, so full of hurt and doubt, echoed in his ears, a constant reminder of the mistakes he had made. He had taken you for granted, convinced himself that you would always be there, waiting for him to get his act together. But now, standing in the aftermath of his own selfishness, he realized just how badly he had miscalculated.

Gojo’s footsteps were heavy as he walked back to his own place, the streets eerily quiet. For the first time, he felt the full weight of his actions, the depth of the hurt he had caused not only to you but to himself. He had ruined something beautiful, something that might never be repaired, and the regret was almost too much to bear.

He reached his apartment and fumbled with his keys, his hands shaking slightly as he unlocked the door. The silence inside was deafening, the emptiness of the space mirroring the emptiness he felt within. He collapsed onto the couch, burying his face in his hands as the reality of the situation washed over him.

He had wanted so desperately to make things right, to prove to you that he had changed, but deep down, he knew it wasn’t that simple. Change wasn’t just about saying the right words or making promises—it was about action, about becoming a better person, and that was something he hadn’t truly grasped until now. He had hurt you, deeply, and no amount of pleading could erase that.

The truth settled heavily on his shoulders: he had lost you, maybe for good this time. And the worst part was, he had no one to blame but himself. He had played with your heart, made you question your worth, and now he was paying the price. The realization that he might never have another chance with you, that you might move on and find someone who would treat you the way you deserved, was almost too painful to bear.

But as he sat there in the darkness, Gojo knew that this was his moment of reckoning. He could no longer hide from the consequences of his actions. If he truly wanted to change, it had to start now—with or without you. He had to learn to be a better person, not just for you, but for himself. And if that meant letting you go, if that meant accepting that you might never forgive him, then so be it.

Weeks had passed since that night, but for Gojo, it felt like a lifetime. The days blurred together, a monotonous cycle of work, training, and sleepless nights. He threw himself into his duties, trying to drown out the memories of you, but nothing seemed to work. Every quiet moment was filled with thoughts of you—your laughter, your smile, the way your eyes had softened when you looked at him, before everything had fallen apart.

He hadn’t tried to contact you since that night. He knew better than to push, to force himself back into your life when you had made it clear that you needed space. Instead, he focused on himself, trying to understand where he had gone wrong, trying to become the man he had promised he would be. But no matter how much he tried to move forward, the emptiness where you used to be haunted him.

One chilly afternoon, Gojo found himself wandering aimlessly through the city streets, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he watched the world go by. It was one of those rare days when he had no obligations, no missions or responsibilities to distract him from his thoughts. The city was bustling with life, people rushing past him with purpose, but he felt disconnected from it all, as if he were watching from a distance.

As he walked, he turned a corner and stopped in his tracks. There you were, just a few steps ahead, standing at the entrance of a cozy little café. For a moment, his heart leapt at the sight of you, his mind racing with the possibility of speaking to you, of seeing how you were doing after all this time. But before he could take a step, he noticed that you weren’t alone.

Standing beside you was a man—tall, with dark hair and a warm smile that reached his eyes. He was holding your hand, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles as you both laughed at something he had said. The sound of your laughter, so light and carefree, pierced through Gojo’s chest like a dagger. It was the same laugh he had fallen in love with, the one he had thought he might never hear again.

Gojo’s breath caught in his throat as he watched the two of you. There was an ease between you and the man, a comfort that spoke of familiarity, of something more than just a passing connection. The man leaned in closer, and you responded with a soft smile, one that Gojo knew all too well. It was the kind of smile that came from genuine happiness, from feeling safe and cherished.

He felt his heart constrict, a mix of emotions swirling inside him—regret, jealousy, sadness. But most of all, there was a deep, aching sense of loss. He had known this day might come, that you would eventually move on and find someone who could give you the love and security you deserved. But knowing it and seeing it were two different things, and the reality of it hit him harder than he had expected.

Gojo stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to tear his eyes away from you. He knew he should leave, walk away before you noticed him, but something kept him there, some part of him that needed to see this, to accept that you were no longer his.

As you and the man turned to enter the café, Gojo’s eyes met yours for the briefest of moments. Time seemed to freeze as recognition flickered in your gaze. There was a flash of surprise, quickly followed by something else—something softer, perhaps understanding or even sympathy. But you didn’t stop, didn’t call out to him. You simply gave him a small, polite nod before turning away,

As the door of the café closed behind you, Gojo hesitated for a moment, debating whether to follow you inside. He knew he should just walk away, let you enjoy your time with the man who clearly made you happy. But something stronger than reason pushed him forward. The unresolved tension between you gnawed at him, a silent torment that demanded closure.

With a deep breath, Gojo pushed open the door to the café, the small bell above it chiming softly as he stepped inside. The warm scent of coffee and baked goods filled the air, and the soft hum of conversation surrounded him. He quickly scanned the room, spotting you at a table near the window, the man still by your side.

You noticed him immediately, your eyes widening slightly in surprise as he approached. The man beside you looked up, clearly sensing the change in your demeanor, but remained silent, his expression polite but questioning.

Gojo stopped a few feet from your table, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he struggled to find the right words. He felt the weight of the moment pressing down on him, the significance of what he was about to say looming large in his mind.

"Can we talk for a minute?" he asked, his voice low and tentative, trying not to intrude too much on your moment with the other man.

You hesitated, glancing at the man beside you. He gave you a small, understanding nod, standing up to give you space. "I'll be right over there," he said softly, before stepping away to another part of the café.

Once he was out of earshot, you turned your attention back to Gojo, your expression guarded but not unkind. "Gojo, what do you want?" you asked quietly, your tone not accusatory but rather cautious, as if you were bracing yourself for whatever he might say.

He took a deep breath, struggling to meet your eyes. "I just... I just wanted to say I'm sorry. For everything. For the way I treated you, for the way I made you feel. I know I can’t undo the past, but I need you to know that I regret it all, deeply."

You looked at him, your expression softening slightly at his words, but there was still a distance in your gaze, a wall that hadn’t been there before. "Gojo," you began, your voice gentle but firm, "I appreciate you saying that. I really do. But what’s done is done. We can’t go back and change what happened. We both know that."

He nodded, swallowing hard against the lump forming in his throat. "I know," he said, his voice cracking slightly. "I just… I wish things could have been different. That I could’ve been better for you."

A small, sad smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Maybe in another life," you said softly, your words like a bittersweet melody that hung in the air between you. "Maybe in another life, we were meant to be. But in this one…"

You trailed off, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. The unspoken truth between you was palpable—no matter how much either of you wished it could be different, the damage had been done. The love you once shared was irreparably broken, and no amount of apologies could fix it.

Gojo felt a sharp pain in his chest, the finality of your words cutting through him like a blade. He had known, deep down, that this was how it would end, but hearing it from you made it all the more real.

"I understand," he murmured, his voice barely audible as he looked down at the floor. "I just… I hope you find the happiness you deserve."

You reached out then, gently touching his arm, the gesture both comforting and heartbreaking. "I hope you do too, Gojo," you whispered, your voice filled with a kind of tenderness that he hadn’t heard from you in a long time. "Take care of yourself."

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and acceptance. He knew this was goodbye—not just for now, but for the life you might have had together. It was the kind of parting that left an indelible mark on his soul, a reminder of what could have been.

With a heavy heart, Gojo nodded, turning to leave the café. As he walked away, he didn’t look back, knowing that doing so would only make it harder to let go. The door closed behind him, the cool air outside hitting him like a wake-up call. He stood there for a moment, trying to steady his breathing, trying to process the finality of what had just happened.

Inside, you watched him leave, your heart heavy but resolute. There was a part of you that would always care for Gojo, that would always wonder what might have been. But you knew, deep down, that you had made the right choice. Sometimes, love wasn’t enough to bridge the gap that had grown between two people. Sometimes, the kindest thing you could do was let go.

As you turned back to your table, the man who had been with you returned, concern etched on his face. He didn’t ask what had happened—he didn’t need to. He simply took your hand in his, offering silent support as you both sat down together.

Gojo walked down the street, the sun beginning to set, casting long shadows on the pavement. The ache in his chest was still there, but so was a strange sense of peace. You had found your path, and now, he had to find his own. And maybe, just maybe, in another life, things would have been different. But in this one, it was time to move on.

End

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fangirl-dot-com · 10 months

Text

Charles Leclerc - Arthur, you are not French...yeah Charles, drag his ass!

I’ve been excited to write this chapter! I know that reader is a Red Bull driver, but I am a Tifosi through and through. Charles holds such a special place in my heart (but so does Max). I feel like one of those “breaking my silence – how I got into F1,” low and behold, I got into the sport from that one Ferrari thirst trap where Charles is lying on the couch. Yeah, you know, that one.

Anywho, I write these little things before I even get to writing the story and sometimes I don’t even know where I’m going with it. I know it's not Christmas yet, but the people spoke - SO HERE WE GO!

Sadly, the tag list is closed to do us reaching the 50 people mark! I never thought that I’d get there though with my story! So thank you to every one of you for making that happen!

Like always, comments, questions, concerns, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated! Love you all <;3

Your beanie had started to itch. You had needed it outside due to the cold weather, but now that you were in the car with the heat cranked, it was starting to get a little too warm. As you pulled up to the red light, your hand quickly yanked the hat off. Not to your surprise, your hair was sticking in all directions. That’s ok, you could fix it before you walked into the house. The light turned green, and you had to remind yourself that this was a regular car, on a regular street. Not a hybrid-engine-ran rocket ship that exceeded 300 kilometers per hour on sweet Grand Prix asphalt.

This year, you had finally accepted Arthur’s invitation for Christmas. Earlier, you had done Christmas morning and afternoon with Max, Kelly, and Penelope. It was everything you could have wished for. And now you were going to spend the rest of the evening with your best friend and his family. You were a tab bit nervous. Sure, you had met them on a handful of occasions, but you tried not to get too close. They were always at grand prixes for Arthur, not you.

You glanced at the presents that were stacked on the passenger side. The most important one, however, was placed in a bag on the floor. You were not about to let that fall over and possibly break. You knew it was made to be sturdy, but you couldn’t be sure. Arthur had given you the gate key. You pulled up to the little black box and pressed the numbers. You rolled your eyes as you realized that it was just Charles’s and Arthur’s racing numbers squished together.

Arthur had also reminded you that Lorenzo was not going to be joining due to him being at his wife’s family’s for the holiday. That was one less person to impress you had told yourself.

You pulled into their driveway and parked your car. It was not as impressive at Charles’s custom 488 Ferrari Pista Spider. It wasn’t as if you were almost drooling at the sight of it. Knowing yourself, you’d probably be too scared to drive it to actually enjoy it. Max also had a Ferrari, maybe he’d let you drive it.

In a parking lot and not exceeding 5 kph. You snorted. Yep, that was Max.

You did however, have your eye on two special cars. But you wanted to wait a bit before purchasing. You Pinterest board was full of different ideas, but you had to be careful. Maybe Christian could help you out with purchasing. You technically hadn’t bought this car, it was a gift from Lorenzo. You wouldn’t trade it for the world, but it might be nice to have more than one car. Besides, multiple drivers had multiple cars. You’d just join their ranks.

Juggling the presents, you walked to the front door and pressed the doorbell. Your face was hardly visible over the tops of the boxes. The door opened and a familiar voice sounded.

“Mon Dieu, let me help you.” Presents were being taken from the big stack.

“Thank you Charles.” You prided yourself on being one of the few people who could recognize the difference between Arthur’s and Charles’s voices. He didn’t reply as he took the presents farther into the house. You followed him through the door and toed off your shoes. Your eyes caught all the lights and decorations in the house. Growing up, you didn’t have such things. Your family always said that being in karting was always going to be your present. Nothing more, nothing less. There were no cookies for Santa and no tree to decorate.

As you walked more into the warm house, the decorations just kept getting better. Where Max’s house was decorated by Kelly who like a clean Christmas aesthetic, the Leclerc household leaned towards the warmer decorations. The lights didn’t necessarily match and flickered colorful light. The stockings weren’t the same color: they showed personality that matched their owner. Even the ornaments weren’t all from the same container. You found Charles staring down at the presents that he had taken from you.

“Who are these for?” he turned his head to look at you.

You snorted, “They’re for your family.” His eyes widened as he rubbed his chin.

“You didn’t have to.”

You only shrugged as you began to take off your coat, “I felt like I did. You all have been so kind to invite me here on a holiday that I couldn’t come empty handed.” Charles gestured for your jacket and you gave it to him.

“You can look around some more if you’d like to. Arthur and maman will be back from the store soon.” Your cheeks heated at the thought of him catching you ogling at his home. You shook the thought away and looked at everything a little bit closer.

Like all homes seemed to have, there was a wall filled with picture frames. Some were of each child; some had the full family. It was nice to see all 5 of them together in the center one. You cocked you head at one of them though. You all but tiptoed to get a closer look. It was one of Charles and Arthur, and then an unfamiliar but familiar man stood between them.

“That’s Jules. If you were wondering.”

You jumped in place, not noticed that he had snuck up behind you. You looked over and saw that a sad smile had graced his face. Arthur had told you little about him. Charles and Lorenzo would always have been much closer to him.

“I met him once. During karting,” you trailed off. Charles raised his eyebrows.

“Really?” It seemed as though the breath had been knocked out of him.

You gave him a comforting smile, “Yeah. My race was right after yours. I think it was back in 2010,” you looked back at the picture, “and you won that day. I watched him cheer for you like he was the proudest person there that day. He was in a racing suit and had a helmet. I thought that he had come straight from a race or something. But, I only remember wishing that I had someone there for me like you had.”

Charles now had a guess as to what day that was. He vaguely remembered finally beating Max and feeling so happy. But, he didn’t remember Jules having a helmet. He took the picture down so that the two of you could look closer. It was definitely not taken the day that you were talking about, but the way you talked about him intrigued Charles. He gave you a head nod, silently saying to continue.

“That day, I also won my race. It hadn’t been the easiest, but the boys were too busy pushing each other off that they didn’t even notice me. I was able to overtake and win. The boys though, weren’t the only ones who didn’t notice. My parents weren’t around when I looked for them. I must have turned around so many times, just trying to find them, but I never did. I had taken my kart back to my station when someone tapped me on the shoulder. He scared the ever-loving crap out of me, but he held my shoulder and told me that I did a great job.”

Your eyes were slightly watering at the confession. Charles just continued to look at you.

“I knew who he was. He was the man who always cheered for the Justin Bieber look-a-like who liked to push a certain Dutchman off the track, into a puddle, and claim it was just an inchident.” Charles snorted.

“I did not look like Justin Bieber.”

“Whatever floats your boat.” He gave you a look. “American expression. Anyway, after he said that he gave me a hug before my dad came stomping over, complaining about something, I don’t even remember. But all I know is that he made my entire day. My godfather wasn’t able to visit that much or come see me race. So, it was nice to have someone in my corner, even if they weren’t truly there for me.”

Charles hung the picture back on the wall. The two of you stood there for a quiet moment before Charles spoke up. “How’s your godfather?”

You inhaled sharply. “He died in 2020. Caught some illness in 2018 and wasn’t able to recover.”

It broke Charles’s heart to hear you talk about it so nonchalantly.

“Does Arthur know?”

You nodded your head. “He caught me crying the first year of his anniversary. Made me spill the beans about what happened. He thought he needed to go beat someone up.” You let out a wet chuckle. When did you even start crying? Looking at Charles, you saw that he was crying too. You continued, “Lorenzo, he, uh, died the day before I debuted in F2.”

Memories hit Charles like an 18-wheeler. That was you? He remembered that most of the F1 drivers had been invited since the F1 and F2 races were so close together. Hell, even Max was given the opportunity to give the winner the trophy. He remembers watching you dominate that race. He watched you offer that trophy to the sky. He saw a hunger that he hadn’t seen in a long time.

He finally spoke up, “You were incredible.”

“Thank you,” you paused before adding, “he’d be proud of you. Jules, I mean.” You looked back at the picture and how it seemed right at home amongst the others.

“Lorenzo would be proud of you as well.” You flashed him a grateful smile, full of teeth. He mirrored, dimples prominent.

You threw your head back and laughed. Charles cocked his head.

“What’s the matter?” he barely got out as he began to laugh as well.

You poked his cheeks, “You and Thur have the same dimples.” Charles rolled his eyes and ruffled your hair. You pouted. “Rude.”

He was about to reciprocate but the sound of the door opening caught the two of yours attention. Charles quickly pushed you into a dark room. You gave him a confused look before he put a finger to his lips. You smirked back and stayed silent.

Pascale walked in first followed by Arthur. Charles greeted his mother and then brother.

“I saw Y/n’s car in the driveway. Where is she?” Arthur looked around the house.

“She went to the bathroom, but hasn’t come back. I think I scared her off,” Charles faked a sad look.

Arthur flashed a comforting smile to his brother. “I’ll go find her. Hopefully she didn’t fall in or something.” That almost made you laugh.

Arthur flipped on the lights to the hallway. This was your chance. He barely got past the doorframe before you jumped out onto him.

His squeal echoed through the room, laughter following it. In your grand scheme, you had accidentally fallen on top of him. Your giggles continued as Arthur tried to push you off. He finally gave up after a few moments. You knew you probably looked ridiculous, but honestly you didn’t care. You swear you heard a click of a camera, but you disregarded it.

“Are you done?” Arthur sarcastically asked.

“No, I’m actually quite comfortable. Thank you for asking though,” you smirked. After a few more moments later, Arthur quickly rolled you off and got up. You let out a huff before making grabby hands at him. He rolled his eyes and pulled you up.

You were finally able to greet Pascale. She brought you into a hug and did the two kisses. You reciprocated. It came naturally after being teammates with Arthur for so long. You smiled at the memory of him doing it to you for the first time. He was so embarrassed after until you calmed him down enough to say that you didn’t mind. You knew it was a part of his culture and that he shouldn’t feel embarrassed to do so.

“Thank you for inviting me.” You shot her a shy smile. She rubbed your back before exiting the hug.

“There is no need for thanks. Arthur has been begging for years.” A noise of protest rang through the air.

“I have not.”

“Non, it’s true. He has.” Charles looked at his brother. Arthur had a look of betrayal that sent you spiraling into another laughing fit.

By the time you were finished, Arthur gave you a look.

“Where’s you Christmas sweater?” You looked down at the one you were wearing. You thought it looked just fine. It was a nice dark green and Kelly had complimented you many times.

“I thought this looked nice?” You were beginning to doubt. Maybe you couldn’t do this Christmas thing.

Arthur shook his head before disappearing down a hallway.

You glanced at Charles and whispered, “I ruined it didn’t I?” You looked down at your feet.

“Non gosse, you didn’t ruin anything. Just look.” You looked back up and saw that Arthur now had another sweater in his hands. (translation : no kid)

“I can’t believe I forgot to give you this. Sorry Y/n, we normally wear ‘ugly’ Christmas sweaters to celebrate. The one you have on is fine, but this is the Leclerc celebration now.” He all but shoved you towards a bathroom so that you could change. You slipped the other dark green sweater on after you took off your first one.

The front made you laugh. It wasn’t ugly per say, Arthur must have toned it down for you. On the front was the Grinch. It was actually kind of cute if you thought about it. You folded your first sweater and walked out. Now you noticed that Charles’s had a bright orange sweater with a gamer Santa on it; Arthur’s actually lit up; and Pascale had a cute one with a reindeer on it.

When he noticed your return, Arthur’s arms shot up. “Now you look festive!”

“How long did it take you to find that one TurTur?” You motioned your finger up and down, pointed at his sweater.

His arms crossed protectively around it as he let his jaw hang. “I’ll have you know that this is imported.”

You gave him a bombastic side eye. “Sure.”

Pascale clapped her hands, “Picture time by the tree!”

You kind of awkwardly stood there as she took pictures of the two boys. You warmly smiled as she gushed over the two of them. You made your way to the kitchen and picked up two bottles. Were these alcoholic? You squinted at the label.

“Y/n!” You froze and looked at the family of three. Arthur was snickering.

“You know you’re not allowed to drink yet.” You rolled your eyes.

Charles shot you a mischievous smile. “Gosse, come, we’ll send a picture to old Maxy. Maybe give him a heart attack.”

You smirked back as you walked with the two bottles. You posed in front of the tree with the glasses on either side of you. The four of you laughed as you set them down. You wanted to make a run for it, as to not ruin the pictures, but Pascale insisted that she wanted one of the three of you.

Your heart swelled as she took a picture of you in the middle of Arthur and Charles. She also insisted to get one of just you and Arthur. Your cheeks heated as you caught her muttering about a picture to show your kids one day. You only hoped that Arthur hadn’t heard.

He did and his heart soared at the thought.

Once the pictures were done, everyone was able to have a few snacks and drinks, yours of course being non-alcoholic.

Then it was time for the presents. The thing you were worried about the most. You soon found yourself seated on the floor in a half circle. Pascale was the only one in a chair, but you didn’t blame her. The boys were the ones to pass out the presents. To your surprise, you had received three presents. Your eyes wanted to water, but you blinked the tears away.

They all opened the ones from you first.

Arthur lit up like a Christmas tree (pun intended) when he saw what you had gotten him. The two of you had been shopping earlier in the year, when you had come across a watch shop. Arthur had wanted to buy a specific one, but was heartbroken when they said that they were sold out. But, while Arthur was having a crisis about it, you secretly asked to be put on the waitlist. They had said that they couldn’t be 100 percent that you’d get one, but there was no harm in asking.

Surprisingly, when you got back for a small break, there was a package from the store waiting for you. You had also taken it to another watch store to have something added.

“Turn it over,” you whispered, scared of his next reaction. He inhaled sharply at what the engraving read.

January 25, 2020 – Best Friends for the Rest of Our Live, Keep at it TurTur!

Arthur quickly clamored over to you and wrapped you in a deep hug. Again, you heard the sound of a camera, but dismissed it.

Next Charles opened his. It wasn’t as sentimental as Arthur’s but you tried your best. Before hand, you had asked what type of jewelry Charles likes. You knew he was a ring and bracelet guy, but had rarely seen him with a necklace. So, you got him a simple one that he could wear with any outfit.

He thanked you with a warm smile.

Pascale was very happy with hers. Knowing that she had a hair salon, you googled many gift ideas for her. But every sing one of them to come up was always a pair of scissors. Wanting to do better, you did some more digging. Finally, you decided on one of those fancy circle vacuums that moves by itself. You knew how your back hurt after sweeping up a floor. You couldn’t imagine how her’s might feel. She also gave you a hug.

Now it was your turn.

The first present was from Arthur and it had you in tears. There in a rectangular box was a new pair of Lightning McQueen crocs.

“You know this is like my third pair right?”

He only nodded, “Yes, but are those pairs signed by Lightning McQueen himself?” Your eyes bulged as you turned them over.

You were expecting Owen Wilson’s signature, but when you read it, you laughed even harder. There on the bottom, in fancy script, was Charles’s signature. You looked over at Charles as you wiped your eyes.

“I’m honored sir.”

Charles rolled his eyes, and touched his heart, as to accept the thanks. His present wasn’t as funny, but it was appreciated. You guessed that Arthur had told him what your favorite restaurant was because his gift was a hefty gift card. Your eyes widened when you saw the total.

Pascale’s was very sentimental though. In her present were multiple pictures in frames. Some you noticed that she must have gotten from the internet or had Arthur reach out to Vito. The one that made you tear up was one of the last pictures taken of you and Lorenzo. Your smile was so bright as you held you trophy. You were looking into the camera, but Lorenzo was looking and smiling down at you. Your fingers traced his face.

You placed the pictures down and brought her into a giant hug. After you were done, you wiped your eyes, overcome with emotion. Arthur clapped his hands to bring everyone’s attention to him. You almost jumped out of your skin.

“All right, party time!” He raised his arms and started to walk toward the kitchen.

Your eyes widened as you remembered something. “Wait!”

The three of them stared at you. You inhaled.

“I have one more thing. For all three of you.” They looked at you with a puzzled look. You walked over to the counter where you had placed the black bag that you came with. You gestured for them to come over.

Arthur cocked his head, “Y/n, why’d you bring a helmet bag? We swapped helmets already.” His accent got thicker as he got more confused.

You shook your head slightly as you let out a shaky exhale. You carefully started to unzip the bag. It was true, what Arthur said. The contents were a helmet.

“Gosse, is this your new helmet for next year? It’s very outdated and I don’t think this is safe, ” Charles questioned, confused as to why you’d bring a helmet to Christmas.

However, Pascale let out a gasp as her eyes danced over the helmet, now in your hands. She put her hands to her mouth. She had recognized it immediately.

“Is this?” The rest of the question went unsaid, but you knew what she was going to say. You nodded you head and handed it to her. She turned it around, expecting all the angles. She let out a wet laugh as she carefully and slowly handed it over to Charles. Arthur stood close, looking at it as well.

“Arthur, before you got here, I was telling Charles of how I was able to meet your godfather,” you started. “And I wanted to tell you how thankful I was for his encouragement. I knew that he had come straight from a race, because he was still wearing his suit and he carried a helmet.”

Charles made a confused face, “But he didn’t have a helmet. His hands were both empty, because he caught Arthur when he ran over to him after he showed up.” You could tell that his mind was trying to connect the dots.

“Well. He wouldn’t have had the helmet,” you trailed off. Arthur’s head shot up.

“Because he gave it to you,” Arthur finished. Charles inhaled sharply as he looked over the protective gear in his hands.

Pascale had come close to you, a hand around your shoulder that rubbed up and down, trying to give some comfort.

The two boys looked as if they were going to cry. Charles let Arthur hold it.

“How? Why?” Charles questioned, tears threatening to fall.

“Well, I thought it had gotten destroyed or thrown away. I left it at my parent’s house, and when I told them I was moving out for reasons, they didn’t react well.” You didn’t want to give too much away. “I was sure that they were going to burn all of my things. But, I went back to see just in case. I was mostly correct; except they didn’t touch my closet. It was hiding in the back behind some clothes.” You remembered crying when you found it, holding it close for comfort. It had been one of the few things that you took from the house back to your apartment in Nice.

“I also wanted to bring it back, where it belongs.”

Charles glanced at you and then the helmet between Arthur’s fingers. “But, he gave it to you. You need to keep it.”

You shook your head. “Jules told me to keep it safe and to hold onto it for safe keeping. I always thought that I’d be able to give it back to him one day. I guess this is the closest thing I can do.”

Arthur gave the helmet back to his brother and walked over to you. You looked into his big blue eyes, filled with tears. Unable to hold back, he tucked his face into your neck, holding you tight. You squeezed your eyes closed, tears falling down your cheeks.

You knew that Arthur always felt bad about not being as close to his godfather, like Charles and Lorenzo had been. He had been 15 when Jules died, and you always wished that the family had had more time with him. Pressure was added on your other side. Looking over slightly, your eyes caught sight of Charles’s brown hair. You managed to put your other arm around him. You held the two brothers close, your heart melting.

Is this what a family is supposed to feel like?

Max’s family was a different dynamic. Yes, they enjoyed hugs and being close, but it wasn’t like this where you could hold each other for hours. Well, maybe Max would let you, he was so overdue for a giant group hug.

Arthur couldn’t get over the fact that you were so close. He hoped that you didn’t hear his heart racing. He’s waited this long; he can wait a little longer. His tears had dried up, but he never wanted to let you go. Your heart was too big and too fragile for anyone else to have it. But here you were, opening it up to his family. He couldn’t have asked for someone better to hold your place in his heart. He could only dream that you held him close to your heart, as he did with you to his.

You would never tell him, but you did.

Charles on the other hand could not stop the tears. He wondered how long you had waited. Shy, quiet you. Before this, he had seen you a couple of times before with Max at the beginning of the break. He’d often run into the two of you shopping or getting groceries. You’d always find a way to give a small wave, before turning to do something else while Max talked to him. He wondered what was so special about you. Max, in all his life, had never looked at something as he looked at you. It was different than the way he looked at Kelly. Heck, he even looked a Penelope differently. Charles had rolled his eyes a few more times than he’d like to admit whenever Arthur would bring you up in conversation. But now, as you tried to comfort him and his brother, he finally understood. You were the family that they were missing.

Pascale watched as the three of you broke your little hug. Smiles adorned your faces as you held the other close. She wished Lorenzo would have been here to meet you. She had a feeling that he and Charlotte would like you, as her other two sons did.

Their little celebration started moments after, the helmet at the center. Your smile never left your face for the rest of the night. You were sad that they didn’t let you sneak in one sip of the bottled drink.

“It’s probably not even good,” you told them as you took a sip of your drink.

“Y/n it is good. We French know what good alcohol is,” he took a sip. You raised an eyebrow and smirked as you saw Charles gawk at him.

“Arthur, you are not French,” you watched as Charles put an arm around Arthur’s neck. You were quick to grab his drink so it wouldn’t stain the carpet. “Yeah Charles, drag his ass!”

Arthur held out a hand, dramatically going down. “My best friend betraying me for my brother. Could this day get any worse?”

“Charles, you should have heard all the times he said that he was French when we would do videos.” You smirked evilly at the two.

“Y/n! You weren’t supposed to tell him!”

“Arthur, how many times to I have to tell you? WE ARE NOT FRENCH, WE ARE MONAGUESQE!!

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