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acid-ixx · 6 months ago

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ch.2: again &. again (platonic! yandere batfam x neglected! gn reader)

directory: preq, chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four

read until the end for an author's note.

*"XX/XX/XXXX, entry no. 13.

i hate everything. i hate my family. i hate my father, i hate my brothers, i hate my classmates, i hate alfred, i hate this place, i hate my mom, i hate everyone.

why can't i ever get what i wanted? what do i have to do? i tried so hard to be everything for them, but why do i only amount to nothing? it's been a year, or two, i don't know. it hurts trying to remember when was the last time i saw him. saw, not talk, because he never talks to me, bruce never even looks at me. and i hate myself for trying to get him to look at me.

is he disgusted at me? does he see my mother in me? does he hate me that much? i don't know, i don't want to know, it hurts to know. i don't know why i'm trying anymore, i don't know how longer i can last in this hell. i can feel it, the longer i stay here, the more i lose a part of myself. i don't want to be here.

i don't want to pray anymore.

so if there's any god out there watching over me, then i wish for you to burn, to suffer, to go through the same thing i have been experiencing for years— all for putting me in this place. i would've been fine living in the streets with my mother. i would've been alright providing for our small family, i would've known to never get my hopes high, but you took her away from me!—

i hate you."

"master (name), are you awake? dinner is ready."

you had to shut your diary at the sound of the knock and alfred's voice.

"alfr-"

a cough, hoarse and croaky, cuts you out from calling his name. it was accompanied by uncontrollable sniffles, mucus blocking your nose from breathing properly. your room was dark, save for the lamp that lights up your bedside, where you currently were seated on your bed to write another entry, grip on your pen unknowingly harsh. you didn't even have to look at your reflection from your phone laying beside the diary to know that hiding your tears were fruitless.

salty were the crystalline droplets that streaks your face, but bitter were the emotions that had your heart ache.

you hear a sigh from the other room. before he could muster a reply, you beat him to it.

"i'm not eating dinner, alfred," you hate hearing your voice, sounding so obviously scrathy from the hours of wailing. "at least not with them. i don't want to get out at all."

"then may i at least bring them over to you, master (name)?"

his answer was final, you have no choice on retaliating and starving yourself like you did for the past few days. but it wasn't your fault that you had forgotten your body's needs. it wasn't your fault that your mind blanks itself out on the dinner table. it wasn't your fault that bile quickly crawls up your throat at hearing their voices.

you simply lost your appetite seeing them happy without you.

alfred pennyworth would never play favorite.

it was drilled into his head ever since he had sworn to serve the wayne family and its extended members— he is to serve anyone and everyone, regardless if they respect him or they do not; as long as they do not pose any danger within the manor, then he is to attend to them.

you'd think that in his decades of service for the wayne's - with all the contrasting personalities he had to deal with - he would maintain professional standards and tell everybody in the world, "i, of course, do not favor anyone within the family, i live to serve and that is truth." when in fact, he wouldn't hesistate to admit that he does, in actuality, have a favorite.

and no, it wouldn't be the eldest child, dick grayson, as much as he is alfred's pride and joy, nor would it be the youngest, damian wayne, who had been slowly correcting his mistakes. it wouldn't even be the head of the house, master bruce.

it would be you, (name) wayne, the infamous, yet forgetten child of the wayne family.

it wouldn't be a far fetch for alfred to admit that you weren't like the others. in all of the years that he served the wayne's, you were a contrast of the family.

the first few hours that he had picked you up from the police department upon the news of bruce's secret child, he knew you were more than just a child raised by the brutal streets of gotham.

you pose secrets that speak of the underground.

he remembers your seated form on the stiff chair of the interrogation room, pose unnervingly straight, as if you had solidified yourself against the metal seat. your fingers were the only signs that showed life, twiddling with each other as if it's some form of distraction.

you stared at nothing.

not even at the police as your name was called for pick up.

it took merely a signature of confirmation to dictate the future years of your life.

what's left of your belongings were given to alfred. the police officer, a woman with a kind smile then had to walk across the interrogation table to pat your back, gesturing for you to stand up and follow her and alfred on the way outside of the station, where the car was parked.

you hadn't uttered a word nor snapped out of your dreamlike gaze. not even when you were greeted with a thousand clicks of the cameras, the buzzing crowd that drowns the police station, or the hundreds of voices that yell at you to look at them.

(name) (last name), now formally adopted by bruce wayne, would be (name) wayne. it wouldn't be a shock that your sudden appearance as the child of a scandalous relationship between a prostitute and a billionaire would cause immense reactions. news would be spreading left and right, most of which were negative on your side.

he had to shield you from the crowd of photographers and journalists itching their way to the crowd to get a glance on you.

yet you didn't display any discomfort. you had only sat on the car obediently, fastening your seatbelts robotically and ignoring the lenses that unsettlingly tried to poke through the car windows to take pictures of you.

you were more like batman than you were bruce.

alfred had tried to get you communicate with questions like, "how are you over there, master (name)?" yet you would only mumble unintelligible responses to his questions without any ounce of emotion. he had to look at the rear view mirror to take in your stiff form. again, your eyes were set on nothing, even if they were casted down on the carpeted floorboards of the car.

when he had first met bruce, that child was overflowing with anger and vengeance for his parent's killer, yet you, who refused to explain your mother's disappearance, are devoid of anything.

the silence was defeaning throughout the ride. the only comfort that was provided was the rain that began to patter against the glass windows.

alfred throught you would retain the same behavior the entire day.

yet it was only when you first walked up the steps of the manor did your demeanor change, fingers immediately reaching up to hold the cuffs of his sleeves, pulling it as if you were hesitant to step in.

the first emotion you had shown him was concern, like a switch had flickered you out of your trance. it was the first time in a while that alfred had to do a double take to check if what was happening was real.

"can you... hold my hand?" and it was the first time he had heard you speak, voice unnaturally scratchy from the lack of water. you stared at him with wide, doe eyes that refused to blink, waiting for answers. alfred had to gaze at your entire body to finally notice that you were covered head to toe in sloppy bandages with blood seeping through the grime-filled gauze. your shoes were worn, your clothes were ripped, and other uncovered scars littered your body.

the most conspicuous color on your shirt was crimson red.

yet you do not display pain.

a child, five years of age, had been through more than enough anguish to know how to block their pain out.

you were unlike the rest, truly, you were unwavering of the world's cruelty.

the world does not deserve someone like you.

alfred takes it in himself to always hold your hand after that.

through the mansion doors, inside the kitchen, on your way to school; whenever and wherever, as long as he had time.

even if it were filled with scars and bruises, dirt and grime, he will always hold your hand if it meant guiding you through the darkness of the manor.

you may not consider yourself bruce's child, but you will always be alfred's.

another knock on your door had you snapping out of your trance. time passed by so quickly in the manor. well, it does when you have nothing to do but stare at your diary, draw on your sketchbook or scroll through your phone. yet time would always be the quickest whenever you drown in your own misery.

"come in," you croak out, aware that it would only be alfred who would come by your room. it was long ago since you had given up on awaiting for dick's visits.

a turn of the knob, then the door swings quietly; the hinges creak, you need them oiled sooner. alfred walks in, you notice he holds a tray that contains two cupcakes and a plate of your favorite dish, but you don't notice the small box with a bow hidden skillfully from the back of the tray. from over your seat, you could already smell the aromatic herbs that flutter in the room and see the colorful frosting from both cupcakes; an already lit candle sticking in from one.

the candle at least provides just a split second of light inside your dim room; the moonlight just like your family, absent.

alfred graciously places the tray on your nightstand, on the left of your diary. your room was still too silent.

you could only hear yourself.

"master (name), are you simply going to sit there and stare? or would you rather i spoonfeed you like i had when you had broken your wrist?"

you blink it out again, oblivious to your very own hyperawareness. alfred's still here. you hope that, in the presence of darkness, he wouldn't see just how much of a mess you are. how your hands could barely grip onto anything, hair unwashed, face stained with tears, difficulty breathing through the buildup of mucus, foot tapping up and down erratically— you wished he would pretend to be blind about your suffering for just this once.

"no—" came your sudden reply, "i can- yeah, i can eat by myself."

it's harder to lie to yourself than it is to others.

he looks at you with doubt, it makes you shiver.

despite you wishing for company inside the manor, you could never be used to attention. it would never be normal for someone like you. though, you wish it was. you wish you never hesitated when someone gives you attention.

you hear your mattress creak, there's a dip on your bed. alfred sits beside you, only then did you realize just how quickly you lean into his side, craving for warmth in the solace of your empty room.

everything hurts, it truly does.

you wish you were strong enough to cease the sudden burst of tears when his one hand circles your shoulder and the other holds the cupcake with a candle near your face. and you wish that you weren't so weak in the presence of another, trying to find a semblance of your worth in their attention.

you at least try to stifle your sobs—

"happy birthday, master (name)."

— but you were always weak, yet alfred never seems to mind, patting your back to console you from your wailing.

you blow the fire out with a single promise to yourself, crying a bit more when alfred had given you a gift box, laced with a ribbon of your favorite color.

it was one of the few gifts you would cherish, fondness seeping into the cracks of your heart.

though it wouldn't erase the bitterness that fills your being either way, knowing your family is still downstairs, unaware of the anguish the torment that they have put you through— it's still enough to let you hate alfred a little less.

"alfred?"

it was your meek voice, one that was always drowned out by the sound of the dishes clanking.

"yes, master (name)?" yet alfred could always strain out the sound of anything just to hear your talk. after all, you were a silent kid throughout your childhood.

"—if i move out of this place; would promise you wouldn't forget about me?"

... (name) wayne was full of surpises.

even at the ripe age of seventeen, and in the near fourteen years of raising you, alfred could never predict your words nor your actions.

you had always said things spontaneously, carrying an aura of awkwardness in your tone, reminiscent of someone who had their personal growth (moreover their social life) stunted.

but now, with the way you had said your resolve so confidently, it felt like he was looking at a different version of you; all the more confident and resilient.

except... you were behind him when you had said that - so he wasn't really looking at you - eating the first batch of his cookies whilst he was polishing the dishes with a cloth.

when he had turned around to look at you, though, you were still the socially inept child he knows and love, sitting on the breakfast bar and twirling around the stool as you attempt to not get crumbs everywhere. you were still so young in his eyes.

it's just, the way you had looked at him expectedly like you needed his approval that shocked him. it was always your eyes that had expressed the most emotions, glazing with anticipation for his response.

he knows it when you lie, and right now, you were dead serious in your resolve.

alfred had to relax the crease on his brows before he ages faster than he already is.

"well, master (name)," he continues, turning back to wiping the dishes clean before he could fully face you. "i would fully support you in your... journey, but what warranted you to be suddenly motivated on moving out?"

alfred had finished setting aside the dishes, but he still doesn't look back.

"i mean, i thought i already told you? i have a scholarship for college but it's on the other side of gotham and...

— i kind of don't want to be chauffeured by a limo around the campus everyday, you know? so the next best thing is to get a dorm."

alfred knows it when you lie. and right now, your hesitance tells him everything he needs to know.

you may have proved a point, but that point was an entire lie. with a person name wayne flaunting across a city whilst riding a limousine, you might find yourself into more trouble than anything else.

but he had always been the one to pick you up and drop you off from elementary and halfway through your highschool life— and you never seemed to mind until now.

it doesn't take a genius to know that you had already deviced a full plan of moving out and taken it into action; all you had to do was confront the only man in the manor who had cared about you enough to raise you about your worries.

it wasn't enough to convince him to let you go, though, especially not right after an incident that had occured prior to you highschool life. if he allows you to gain independence in gotham, he wouldn't know how long you would last.

but when he looks back at you again, he couldn't bring it in himself to oppose to your whims. you need a new environment; one that provides you a way to gain independence and, most preferably, social skills. staying cooped up in a manor with barely anybody talking to you does more harm than good.

and being ignored by your own family for almost fourteen years wouldn't be a great way to celebrate your already nearing eighteenth birthday.

alfred doesn't want to admit it, but if he keeps you here any longer, you would never grow up. one person could only do so much.

he whips out a sigh, looking at you with resignation in his eyes. but you know it in yourself that he swears his life on the promise.

"master (name)," he walks over to you, eyes darting at the cookie crumbs that litter around your mouth making a note to scold you on your manner later. he sits directly in front of you, hand patting your head as you merely stare at him expectedly.

"i have raised you for almost fourteen years, it's like you are my very own child. i would never forget you." he takes your hands in his. "but you have to also promise me to stay safe out there, master (name). call me once you're there."

alfred would find a way to get you to come back eventually, even if it meant utilizing your family's neglect, which was primarily the reason why you had moved out on the first place.

he just hopes you wouldn't connect the dots and pin the blame on him once you're back and safe in the manor.

and now, it had only been months since you had gotten away from the manor. he was proud of your development, of your choice and overall, you, but he wouldn't lie and say he doesn't miss you.

he misses hearing your voice directly, the line on the phone being too blotchy to properly hear you. he misses it when he would sit on your bed as your only audience whilst he watches you paint on your canvases, drawling on and on about highschool's latest drama. he misses it when you would always be the first to taste his dishes, face lighting up whenever the food was seasoned up; now he has to constantly remind you to eat a nutritious diet, even offering to send you money whenever you mention you were short on it.

in the good of your heart, you would always decline, even going as far to deny him of any liberty to track you down and bring you a meal himself.

alfred misses you.

does he regret allowing you your freedom? not really, no. but he knows it in himself that a greedy part of him prefers it if you were would visit the manor occasionally during your vacations, at least to bond with him. but you simply chose not to, even going as far to legally change your name once you had become eighteen so you wouldn't be associated with your father's last name.

but that wouldn't erase the past you had tried to meticulously cover.

(name) wayne may have been a name forcefully deleted off of the face of the internet, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have its conspiracies of its own. nobody knows who you are beyond the blurry, unsolicited pictures of you. it may have been a photograph of your back, or articles published in unknown websites and buried at the far end about a kid leaving a police station and entering through the fancy gates of the wayne manor.

and most importantly, you are a product of a one-night-stand.

but they don't know who the mother is, don't know your age, or where you come from, and what business bruce has with the woman to guarantee your adoption at the instance she had disappeared without warning.

your existence was a mystery most would like to solve. after all, it was your picture that was plastered all over the newspapers and articles, it was your name that journalists whisper and it was a silhouette of your face that the underground knows by heart. every known information about you was shared discretely yet efficiently like some sort of virus.

you were a target for interest, a large sum of money if they will. and alfred had taken it in his hands to make sure there would never be a repeat of what had happened before.

it was a clumsy mistake, one that cost you your memories, and one he swears on his life he'll never make again.

the first course of action he needs to arrange, which may seem difficult for most; he needs to confront bruce.

after all, your freedom is your doom.

the wayne manor, in all its glory, could only be described as this palace overflowing his its abundant history and fame.

it was a castle that houses a boy who had lost his parents and became gotham's very own vigilante who stalks through the night to lessen the very evil that devours its citizens. it was the training grounds where the robins, sidekicks dressed in colorful attire, opposite to batman, were raised to be worthy enough to stand by the dark knight's side. but most importantly, it was a home for troubled children who were in their journey of their very own personal struggles.

yet even in its exterior splendour, it would always be innately overcome with loneliness.

for someone like bruce wayne, he embraces this desolation just as he embraces his alter-ego, batman, who wears a suit of black and dons an aura that demanded fear.

even if he carries the persona of 'brucie wayne' a ditsy, playboy who enjoys galas and sleeping with women every other night, he prefers solitude over the sea of interviewers who throng around him like he was a piece of meat.

it would be the only time he could focus on his countless of stacked paperworks to sign and his plans to ransack another criminal's master plan.

before winter could cover gotham in its sheet of pure, white coldness, rain would always terrorize the skies. he finds this the perfect atmosphere; dark grey clouds prevent the sun from peaking through, droplets of rain would pelt against the vast windows that surrounds his study, and there was enough background noise to block out any sounds that would pass through the door.

bruce wayne was focused on his work, and that meant disturbance wasn't allowed inside the manor. thankfully, it was a quiet, uneventful afternoon today.

in fact, it was all too abnormally quiet.

his scarred hands work through signing papers effiently and effortlessly, practiced fingers signing papers after he would meticulously scan over the paragraphs of texts that scale from business deals to partnerships to buying a piece of land. then later, once the moon rises, he would have to patrol with damian and disrupt another drug trade that had been recently dealing with children on the alleys of gotham.

that means he has to sign or reject at least half of the papers before evening falls through, so he could have alfred send them over through the post office tomorrow morning.

he was at least a quarter way through his work, though, when his flow was disrupted by a courteous knock by the mahogany doors.

he didn't have to look up or ask who it was, knowing it was alfred, his butler.

"master bruce, i have your tea ready, along with news to bare," bruce could hear the tone of urgency and a tinge of sullenness in alfred's voice. it was rare for alfred to be emotionally distressed, as he was typically the most composed out of everyone in the family.

"come on in, alfred," bruce's vocal chords were gruff, raspy whenever he's too engrossed in whatever he was doing.

but he was piqued at the news alfred was eager to share, the butler expertly turning the knob and entering with a tray that holds a hot serving of tea.

bruce stopped signing the papers, putting down his pen as he watches alfred, composed as always, place the tray down on his desk, not a single clank that was produced from the metal sheets. he watches as alfred reflexively pours him a cup of tea.

it was only after that action that the two share eye contact, alfred stationing himself to the right of bruce's desk.

if he wasn't a detective, he wouldn't have noticed the furrow of alfred's brows, which was uncharacteristic of the composed butler.

he reckons he should address the elephant in the room.

"what is it that you want to tell me, alfred?" bruce swivels his chair to face alfred, fingers tapping the mahogany desk rhythmically.

"master bruce, i figured you should have known this for quite a long time ago, but your third child had moved out on their own and now lives at the opposite side of gotham. right now, they may have been struggling to make ends meet."

huh?

"what do you mean, alfred? you're aware that tim is currently living in the manor—"

"no, master, i am talking about your third, not fourth child; master (name)."

... (name)?

ah, his... other child.

alfred looks at his seated form, expecting the befuddled reaction from bruce.

it doesn't take long for bruce to recover from his thoughts, eyebrows furrowed the same way as alfred as he leans against his chair.

"and what of (name)? why was i not updated about them?"

alfred had to stifle a groan as he then glares at bruce with what he could suppose was exasperation.

"i had already told you about their leave months ago, master bruce. you had simply waved me off whenever the topic is of master (name)." the butler's glare hardened, reminiscent of the times where bruce was scolded as a child. and like a child, he doesn't know what he had done wrong.

"i feel it is time for you to take it into your hands to deal with master (name)'s situation right now. i do not have access to their location and just like you, they are stubborn and refuse to accept any financial aid that comes to them in any form—"

to make matters worse, alfred had the gall to stop midway into his explanation, sighing and blinking unnervingly which catches more than bruce's attention.

"they would rather not admit it, but if they were to fail to pay for this month's rent of their apartment, they would get evicted from their very own living space."

at pretty much the last sentence, bruce's gaze hardened. not at alfred, no, but at the thought of you; his... forgotten child. if it was money that you need, why had you not ask for any allowance in the first place? bruce would admit that, well, it had been too long since he had last seen your face, nor even... remember it—

but you were still a child of his and he wouldn't deny you of an allowance if it meant persuing your... highschool or college dreams...?

shit, what grade are you in?

why didn't he know you moved out in the first place? wait—

"alfred, how long has it been since they had last moved out?"

"roughly six or seven months ago, master."

"ah, but having a place of your own as a minor would be prohibited by law."

"master bruce, they're eighteen. they're old enough to live in their own apartment."

eighteen years old...? how long had it been since he had last seen or heard of you? if what alfred had said was true, that the butler had attempted to reach out to him about you, then why had he not remember in the first place? you were a quiet kid, sure, but for someone like bruce, people would always not be overlooked.

it wasn't in him to easily forget, but he hates how he couldn't muster up a single memory of your face— not even your hair color nor your eyes. did you even... exist in his eyes? there was not a single memory of you that he could come up in his head.

his child was eighteen now, how could he not have known in the first place? how could he not recollect a single birthday of yours? or any celebration or gala that had you in it?

alfred's sigh snapped him out of his trance once more.

bruce looked up, seeing resignation upon alfred's face. he simply stood there, posture straight as always, but bruce couldn't wash away the shame that cages his heart when there was not a single image of you that pops up in his mind— alfred's disappointment merely worsened

the tea in his desk had long since gone untouched, but bruce couldn't bring it in himself to drink a single drop of it, even if his lips were dried and his throat was begging for even a single droplet of water.

he denies himself of any relief.

"i figure i should leave you in your own, master bruce, to at least compose yourself before nightfall. please do take your child into consideration, though, enough time has passed since you have last seen them." alfred states, as if it was a matter of fact. and it was, bruce should've known about your leave, as your father and as the man who took you in, he should've.

so before the butler could even take a step, bruce hastily stands up from his seat, pen long since discarded on his desk and a quarter of the papers are now messily stacked upon each other, but bruce pays them no mind.

"take me to (name)'s room right now, i need to see things for myself."

if bruce couldn't even remember a single instance of you, then maybe a trip to your room would be enough for him to remember.

but if that doesn't work then... bruce would a find a way, he always would.

and as your father, he needs to at least support you, even financial no matter your stubbornness? even if the shame he feels right now is so immensely disturbing, and the migraine is quickly finding its way into his head— he needs to know more about you, his actual third child.

bruce wayne needs to see your face just once.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: 5k+ words. no beta, we die like jason todd with a crowbar. my least favorite part of writing the chapter is literally starting it. i had at least 5 drafts all lined up and it took me an hour in the bed to think about how should i start it. i literally hope you guys enjoy the chapter hehe, and start to yk, notice the patterns and the parallels between your perspective and bruce's perspective bec ur literally his child, u guys share some habits even if u never once talked to him lmao. the most emotionally draining scene was writing the birthday scene, i had to take breaks from typing it out hehe. bruce's descent to yandere-ism isn't as quick as dick's but it would be worst in the next chapter.

also, i hope you guys are able to notice the bad habits that the reader eventually collects because it's important for the next chapters. it would be better if anyone of u could... point them out in my asks or comments, i love rambling about it yk, and a lot of you are absolutely brilliant in making theories that are absolutely right. anyways, i hope u enjoy this chapter because this was one hell of a ride for me and i appreciate all the reblogs and comments despite me not replying to a lot of yall but u guys truly are my motivation so thank u lots :(((<33!

taglist: @lilyalone, @secretomelettetroops, @earlqurl, @simpingfor-wakasa, @amber-content, @ruiroku, @okaybutfullhomo, @trasshy-artist, @obsessedwithromance, @jjsmeowthie, @fairy-lenaa, @maicenitas, @ilovvmyhusband, @6uuyuuhgy, @plsfckmedxddy, @lavender-moony, @sweetheart-era, @chemicalsandghosts, @darling006, @starringyau, @rosecentury, @jaythes1mp, @pi1nkl0ver, @i-thirsty-boi, @sharks-r-cool-l, @silverklaus, @samanthathanes, @traumaramacenter, @maddimoon, @anxrq, @thedarknesslord, @h0rr0r-10ver-69, @lazy-idate, @googeecat44, @simpingfor-wakasa, @zvghfgn, @0patito0 (if i had forgotten to put any of u in a taglist please forgive me, it's hard to keep track !!)

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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 5 months ago

Text

Safe

~900 words

Gotham is dangerous. You know that. The whole world knows that. But that doesn't mean your job lets you go home before sunset. You didn't intend to be out so late, but your coworker had an emergency, and of course, no one else could come in. So, great, now you're walking Gothams streets when you should be warm in bed. At least your boss promised you overtime.

You're pulled from your thoughts at the sound of heavy footsteps behind you. It makes you tense, your fingers curl tighter around the pepper spray in your pocket. A quick glance in the window you pass revels a bulky, disgruntled, stumbling group of figures following you. Your throat tightens, and you walk a little quicker. You should have called Jason. Why didn't you call Jason? Usually, he walks you home if your shift is this late. Because it's a short walk. Because you can handle yourself, and he's busy, and you weren't supposed to be out tonight. You remind yourself, cursing silently. This is fine. You can handle yourself.

You count them as you pass the next window. One quickly turns into two. Then three. And then, your heart skips a beat as a fourth figure turns the corner in front of you. Okay, change of plans, cross the street and enter whatever rundown 24/7 shop is open.

That plan is quickly derailed when they start shouting at you, threatening you. Your steps slow, fear pooling in your gut as your mind races to find a way out of this situation. Your fingers slip against your phone, weighing calling GCPD.

Faster than you can process, a hand grabs your arm and tugs you into the alley, causing a strangled noise to leave your throat.

"Move." A heavily modulated voice. Rough leather gloves. A lingering gunpowder smell. Jason. No, not completely– He's Red Hood right now. A towering, intimidating mass of heavy weaponry and unyielding armor.

"C'mon." He pushes you along quickly, a steady hand guiding you by the small of your back into a shadowed hiding place in the alley.

You don't quite manage words, but the relief spreading through your body nearly brings tears to your eyes.

Jason crowds you against the wall, cool, sturdy armor, a shield between you and the dim light of the street. He tilts his head towards the entrance of the alley, listening as rough, slurring voices call for you. But they don't come closer, agitated by the loss of what seemed like easy prey and eventually fade. His helmet tips down to focus on you.

"Are you hurt?"

You shake your head, unable to form the words just yet.

He nods, slowly taking stock of you. "You're out late." The words coming out half questioning, half accusing but so, very gentle.

"Work– someone called out. No one else could take the shift."

"You should have called." He says evenly, voice softening as he takes in your shaky tone. He dips his head to rest his face place against your shoulder, and you're not quite sure who's more relieved that he's here.

"I know. I'm sorry. I should have listened." You say quickly, knowing full well what could have happened, what he sees every night when he spends his nights protecting Gothams streets. He always tells you to call if you need anything, but the idea of bothering him while he was saving lives? You couldn't bring yourself to dial his number.

"You did listen," he replies, soothing and silencing your worries as he nuzzles into your neck again. "That's what makes you so special. You listen to me. You follow my lead, right into safety. I don't even have to say anything and you trust me. You just do it. You're perfect."

Jason pauses for a moment and pulls back to trace his thumb over your jaw.

"You know that?"

His words send your heart into flutters and you hope, that even with his focus on you, always on you, he doesn't see the goosebumps forming under his touch.

"Shouldn't you, you know, go after them?" You ask after a moment, careful to change the topic from yourself.

He hums softly. "Batgirl's already on it. I'm walking you home."

"You don't have to do–" You start, gulit settling in your chest.

"I do. I want to. Let me?" He runs his thumb over your cheek, slow and almost reverent. The leather slides over your skin, the gesture so familiar it might as well be indented into your skin. You don't have it in you to read into what it means. But it soothes the guilt nonetheless.

You nod once, relenting. How could you deny him? It makes him smile beneath the helmet how easily you agree to him. For both your sakes, he needs to see you home safe.

He hesitates, glowing eyes of his mask studying you. He carefully steps out of the tiny hiding place he shielded you in, and if the adrenaline wasn't fading from your system, maybe you would have noticed the reluctance seeped into his movements. He offers you his hand.

You take it without a second thought.

He squeezes your fingers once and begins to guide you home. Gotham is still dangerous, dark and cold.

But Jason's there. And there's nowhere safer for you than with him.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd #x reader

1K notes · View notes

fairene · 6 months ago

Text

one of your girls / ln4, part two

lando norrisxfem!reader

no use of y/n, as always.

part one

a/n ⋯ I LIED IT'S COMING OUT NOW!!! i sat down for 'bout four hours after work and a family dinner to knock this the fuck OUTTTT. it's shorter than i expected, but this was the best way i could wrap up this supposed 'oneshot'. i hope you all enjoy it. and remember, it is up to YOU for what you are wearing, clothes are intentionally vaguely described for your own viewing pleasure. and tbh, i did not proof read this...don't sue me!!! I JUST WAnted it out asap for everyone@!!! pls don't let it flop!!!

warnings ⋯ SMUT 18+++!!! minors DNI!!!, language, drunk hookup, choking (slight), p in v sex (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, overstimulation, feral lando. sickeningly in love lando, possession, jealousy.

wc ⋯ 13.7k (unedited!)

he hadn’t heard from you in weeks. weeks. it was driving him fucking insane. he didn’t know that the girl would come back, he didn’t know she would be a bitch, and he certainly didn’t know you would react that way. to his ultimate surprise, it was a comfort knowing that you did care. however sick and twisted it was, it told him without using your words, that you wanted something.

things had been left unsaid between the pair of you for a long time. too long. he was never in the business of guessing your feelings, assuming that you felt one way or another about him. and neither were you. both of you were too fucking stubborn for your own good. neither of you could see what was right in front of you–

each other.

and that was the worst part for lando. it had him pushing himself harder. faster. to be better to perhaps catch your attention. to win you back through his ability to race. but you didn’t care about that. you didn’t care about how fast he drove his car, didn’t care about the number of podiums he got. you cared about him. but you never let the words fall upon his ears, and that was your first mistake.

it was the weekend in spain. warm, but not too humid, you traveled with alexandra and the rest of the ferrari hospitality team. you had gotten close to carlos’ girlfriend, rebecca, as well. they were both great company and more times than not, lando had slipped from your mind completely.

but not for him.

he was a mess. a wreck without you. guilt consumed him night and day, and he would feel eternally wrought with what could have been. he’s called you, texted you, even had oscar reach out to you, but there was nothing but radio silence and the bolded words ‘read’ beneath his sent messages. it hurt more knowing that you saw him suffering and did nothing about it.

but he deserved it. he deserved this treatment. he wasn’t going to fight you. he would roll over, belly up like a good boy for you. pay attention to me, his actions would scream. look in my direction. but you didn’t even view his stories on social media anymore. didn’t even like his posts.

the british driver would be found pacing back and forth, staring hunchback at his phone. oscar would watch him from across the room, legs dangling from the papaya barstool. he hated to see lando this way, but he knew what he did. lando was honest with oscar, hoping to maybe seek advice in his own girlfriend. but lily simply shrugged her shoulders and her expression said enough.

you did this to yourself.

but little did you know is that he threw that girl out the moment you left. okay, not literally, but in ever metaphoric way possible. he never contacted her again. he hadn’t contacted any girl, in fact, these past few weeks. he would be isolated with his PR team at every occasion, refusing to even entertain the thought of hitting up a new girl.

his loyalty to you was suddenly unwavering, but it was too late.

“mate,” oscar said from where he sat. lando didn’t look up, just hummed, staring at your last text to him.

‘you’re too sweet,’

too sweet. what would you say now? you had replied to a set of merchandise he saved for you, special edition for miami’s grand prix, and that had been it. from you. he had to scroll down through the text chain to reach the bottom. his endless apologies, desperate words, and more apologies. he felt nauseous. sick that he ever treated you that way.

his favorite girl. his girl.

“she’s here.”

what?

lando’s head snapped up, looking frantically around. but there was no sign of you.

“with alexandra. ferrari paddock.” oscar gestured his phone towards lando. he snatched it from him, letting his eyes fly across the photo. it was a picture of you, rebecca, and alexandra. posted on alexandra’s instagram story.

you looked…

happy.

he…

he didn’t know why he was upset by that. he wanted you to feel the same level of anger, sadness, distress, even. but here you were– looking absolutely beautiful with your bright smile. so fucking beautiful. he remembers he was there when you picked out that top. and god, he was right, it’s meant for you.

lando threw oscar’s phone back at him, and knew this would be a long fucking weekend.

barcelona’s air had been clean. much cleaner than miami, new york. the decor of the paddock, too, had you thinking and trailing your fingers over the textures. you had done that more– feeling the things around you. you used to do that with lando. but now he was gone, and you had to suffice to other obscurities to lay your fingers upon.

gone. the word echoed in the chasm of your mind. gone. you didn’t realize the depth of lando’s absence would impact you this much, but that had been a mistake on your part. clearly. an oversight of your intimate relationship. that, eventually, it would end. it would end in flames, crash and burn, and ultimately never recover. as much as you thought, anyways.

you heard your name being called from the other side of the couch. you glanced up.

rebecca stared at you expectedly.

“sorry,” you breathed. “what did you say?”

rebecca huffed, but repeated herself regardless. “i said that i have a friend with me i want you to meet.” you raised your brows quizzically. “i think you’ll like him.”

him? him? oh, fuck, here we go.

as much as you wanted to breeze past what happened in lando’s monaco apartment, you couldn’t. your feelings, as heavy as they were, weighed you down into the abyss of lando norris’ wellbeing.

you didn’t sleep with anyone since him. you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. it didn’t feel right, and your own attempt at an orgasm was ultimately futile.

but you said nothing when rebecca turned, pulling a man from conversation with carlos. he looked confused, but let his eyes settle on you. he relaxed.

he was a handsome chap. dark hair, dark eyes. tanned skin. fit. he had a grecian nose, one that was slim and curved. not like lando’s, you thought, but brought yourself down to earth and stood. you greeted him with two kisses on the cheek, and his name was raphael.

“so you are…” his spanish accent was thick and attractive. you couldn’t deny that. “friends with rebecca?”

“that’s right.” you nodded, bringing a bottle of water to your lips to cool down. “you, as well?”

he shrugged, giving you a ‘so-so’ hand gesture. “carlos, really,” you let out a soft ‘ahh’ and soon realized, too, that this would be a long fucking weekend.

the day of free practices came and went. so did your time with raphael. he wasn’t a bad conversationalist whatsoever, you were simply not interested. but you made a promise to rebecca this weekend that you would try. try and branch out instead of looking insatiably bored on live television. she was right. you needed to get over this and move on, because lando must’ve, right? he must’ve slept with that girl, given the fact that he didn’t go after you.

did you expect him to?

you weren’t sure. you weren’t fucking sure of anything. you weren’t a mindreader for fucks sake. but you saw his text messages. all of them. you made yourself sick with despair every night, rereading them to yourself like the fucking bible. what did you expect him to do for you? crucify himself? maybe. just maybe.

as you were walking down the pit lane with alexandra at your side, you felt the wafting air of an oncoming storm of people. you glanced around, but alexandra was the one to point it out.

“uh oh.”

the papaya suits could be seen from anywhere. it’s not like they were subtle.

you bristled and stood up straight. fuck, okay. this was happening. he’s walking this way. was he coming toward you? no, don’t be so foolish. but you hoped that he would.

lando was approaching you, but his eyes were set forward. but when you weren’t bothering to look, he had been staring at you the entire way here. he could spot you from miles away with your countenance, your undying beauty.

but he didn’t stop to look at you.

you didn’t either.

but your hands–

god your hands

they brushed past one another when he swept past your shoulder. his pinky desperately latching to yours before you let him go. you gasped lowly and he heard it, his ears twitching with the sound. but he didn’t stop. he couldn’t.

if he stopped to turn, he would kiss you out in the open.

you dared him to.

but you both kept on your way, and the interaction had you fuming. why can’t he care to show up? texts, calls, whatever, didn’t compare to the ability to show up. you knew he was in monaco. you knew exactly when he was there. it wasn’t a fucking secret.

fuck him.

you didn’t care if you were being a brat. you knew what you put at stake, but you opened your heart to him. and you believed that maybe, just maybe, if that girl hadn’t interrupted, the two of you would be in a very different situation. maybe. but you didn’t let that thought linger. you couldn’t.

“what was that?” alexandra whispered to you as you both kept walking.

“nothing.”

and that’s what you promised yourself it to be. nothing. when in reality, it had been everything. lando had seen you, spotted you from what felt like a mile away with a man lingering at your side. fuck. reality set in for him that you were looking. you were looking elsewhere from him for companionship. it made him fucking sick to his stomach, and he knew that had to change. he was a man on a mission now, a conqueror ready to pillage.

it was the evening when you found yourself locked away in your hotel room. it was well past ten o’clock, and you were exhausted form today. alexandra had invited you out, but you just couldn’t bring yourself. rebecca prodded away at you, too, insisting that you and raphael hit it off today. he said that he wanted to see you again.

you had thought about it. you really did.

but you couldn’t.

you’d been sucked into a tv melodrama in your hotel room when you felt your phone vibrate. someone was calling you.

you checked the time and raised a brow, lifting your phone to see the all-too-familiar contact card lighting up your face in the ambient lighting of the room.

lando

you hesitated.

suddenly your heart was racing, beating rapidly against the cage of your chest, and you felt like a prisoner to your anxiety. you felt it drop to your stomach, feeling queasy, but hit ‘answer call’ anyways. you lifted your phone to your ear, and let out a soft breath.

“what?”

your words were bitter, but quiet in the solitude of your room.

“didn’t think you’d answer,” came his raspy voice from the other end. he was breathless, as if he had been running. or fucking some girl. fuck you, you wanted to bite out, but held your tongue.

“neither did i.”

that earned you a cheeky laugh from him. he hesitated, too, before breathing. “are you at your hotel?”

you were confused by the question. “yes.”

“can i see you?”

his words hit you hard. you fell back against the pillows of your bed, hand coming to rest over your forehead. you sighed with a grumble. “i don’t think that’s a good idea.”

you could practically feel him wince through the phone.

“please.”

fuck him and his soft words. his desperate tone, the pity that you felt for him grew. the fact of the matter flew from your head, disappearing with a singular plead from his cracked vocals. he sounded honest. that he truly wanted to see you, and a small part of you wished to reconcile whatever was happening between the two of you. you were not a woman of small touches– you wanted it all, or nothing.

“okay.”

lando cleared his throat, choking on his breath, exhibiting his initial shock. “i– okay, okay, what room are you in?”

“610.”

he hung up before you could let out a breath. your phone fell onto your nightwear– a simple baggy shirt and spandex. they were what kept you most comfortable at night.

your hands raked over your face, pulling your eyelids with it. what were you doing? engaging with him, talking with him over the phone. the long text chains of read messages you had banished him to sat idly on your screen, staring you down with an ambivalence that you quivered before. was this a mistake? should you just pretend you’re–

there was a knock at your door seconds into your thoughts.

you jumped from your bed, hands raking through your hair. how did he get here so fucking quick? you scrambled around your room, checking yourself in any reflection you could find. fuck, why were you so nervous? how could he possibly make you so riddled with anxiety in a matter of seconds? your heart was in overdrive once again, and you wondered just how much you could take.

he said your name through the door. weak, pining. you dropped the brush you grabbed in the bathroom instantly, feet soaring over the hardwood floor to open it. when you did, you were face to face with the british driver.

he wasn’t drunk. that’s a first. the thought crossed your mind only briefly, thinking that you were just a booty call in the late hours of the night. it wouldn’t be the first time.

lando was disheveled, messy, and the white shirt he wore was ruffled. upon his head was a mclaren hat, concealing his identity from the outside. most importantly, though, that you noticed was how his face was glazed in a sheath of sweat. you cocked a brow at him.

“did you run here?”

lando shrugged. it felt, in that moment, that things were normal between you two. that all of this…shit washed over for just a second. you felt at home. comfortable. but you cleared your throat and let him walk in, shutting the door behind you.

you didn’t want to speak to him here. not where he could see your laundry everywhere, pairs of underwear sprawled around so he’d get distracted. not that you expected to fuck him here, though the thought didn’t upset you. fuck, you were in deep.

you brushed past him, leading him to the small terrace just outside your bedroom. you slid the door open and leaned your back against the railing. he slid the door shut behind the two of you, and he took a seat in one of the wooden picnic chairs. he gawked at you, openly, letting his eyes run over your bare legs beneath the oversized shirt.

“don’t do that.” you said, breaking the silence between you two. you seemed to rip him out of his dreamscape with a clearing of his throat.

“do what?” he feigned innocence. though he knew what he was doing. he missed you, lest he verbalize that.

“look at me,” you breathed, “like that.”

his brow lifted, still playing dumb. dumb, as if he didn’t want to take you over this railing, ask you to be his.

“like what?”

you scoffed.

“like you’re in love with me.”

ouch. your words bit harder than he thought they would, blood gushing from an open wound in his heart. he let your words settle before he leaned back in the chair, legs spreading as he fiddled with the skin of his thumbs.

“i wanted to see you.”

“i know,” you answered. “you saw me. now what?”

lando shook his head. “don’t do that.” please don’t do that he wanted to say.

“do what?” it was your turn to play dumb. your turn to pretend that you weren’t doing the same thing. pushing him away was the easiest way to deal with all of your problems.

“act so cold.” he turned his head away from you, glancing over towards the lights of the city. “giving me frostbite.”

“lando, what–”

“i’m sorry.”

huh? you froze, eyes widening as you straightened upright. did you hear him correctly? it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve heard an apology. but this was a first to hear it in person, not in begging text messages half way across the world.

“what–?”

“for everything. i’m sorry.” his head fell to his hands as he leaned over, gripping at the curls atop his head. you felt the same urge creeping up your spine, your hands feeling empty. you shifted on your feet, stepping a foot closer.

“why now?”

he perked up, wondering what you meant.

“why, now, are you sorry?”

he was speechless. unable to form the words that could answer such a vague question. but you had an idea, so you thought you’d share.

“because i was with someone?” raphael. you know that he saw the two of you talking. chatting. maybe an occasional giggle so you could keep him quiet for the rest of the free practices.

lando began to shake his head. “no, no–”

“really?”

you stepped into his space, wedging yourself between his thighs. he stared up at you, lost in the reflection of your eyes beneath the starlit sky. his hands found your hips and you let him keep them there, at least for the moment.

“really.” he promised you. head leaning forward to rest on your stomach. you felt the perch of his nose dig into your skin. your head leaned back, taking a large breath, feeling tears begin to well.

“what do you want, then?” you said with a shaky breath.

you felt his hands tense against your hips.

“i don’t know.” his words were muffled, but you could make them out. it shattered you to hear the creak in his voice, but it hurt even more knowing that he didn’t know. you wanted something with him. a relationship. but he didn’t feel the same.

your fingers cupped his face, bringing him to look at you. “that’s it, then, huh?” your voice was dangerously soft.

he was confused. again.

“that’s all i’ll be?” he still didn’t catch on, too busy staring at your flushed face, reddened eyes. he wanted to fix it– take back his words. he’d do anything to reverse time. would do anything to revoke the words that spilled from your pretty lips.

“one of your girls.”

you pushed him away, walking back to the railing with your back turned. he said your name over and over. you ignored him.

“i think,” you said, sucking in a tight breath to calm the storm of emotions that were threatening to raise hell. “that you should go.”

“no, no–” lando stood, coming to wrap his arms around you, but you turned, holding up your hand to stop your advances.

“we knew this would happen one day, didn’t we?” you reaffirmed, steadying your breaths the best that you could. but it was difficult. nothing about this was easy. but it had to be done. you were done waiting. done pining for someone that did not feel the same. did not burn the same.

lando breathed your name again. you shook your head. “no. no. we can’t–” you choked on your tears. it felt hard to breathe. “i can’t keep waiting for you.”

lando’s own eyes filled with tears. it felt like a breakup, when you two were clearly never together. you made that clear enough, and he obeyed, just wishing to feel your skin beneath his fingers, fall asleep to your heart beat. so why did he say he didn’t know? fuck, he’s such an asshole. he couldn’t take back his words now, could he?

he tried to explain. words stumbled from his lips, nervous and riling with anxiety, but you would hear none of it. you simply brushed past him and into your room, opening the door from your hotel room for him. you said nothing else, tears sliding down your cheeks, lip caught between your teeth.

“please,” he begged one last time. he had succumbed to his tears, too, cheeks flushed and lip wet. his hands trembled as he made one last attempt to cup your face. you let him.

your foreheads met in both desperation and exhaustion. here, it felt like time stopped. the two of you in sync with your racing hearts, trembling hands, voracious blood churning through your veins. you looked up at him through your wet lashes and he met your gaze. it only had you sobbing harder.

he wiped the tears from your cheeks.

“please,” he said your name on his trembling tongue. the sound had your knees trembling, but you resisted. you had to. you couldn’t keep doing this anymore. there was a life out there, waiting for you to take hold of. “don’t make me go.”

you let out a shaky breath, shaking your head.

“you have to.”

lando hiccuped. his fingers were still shaking, and he finally accepted your rejection. though he supposed he signified it first. that was his first mistake. he couldn’t take back his words without sounding like a dick, so he was trapped. trapped utterly in this pit of mayhem.

he exited your hotel room with his tail between his legs. defeated.

you shut the door behind him and slumped against it, your back sliding down until you hit the floor. your head fell into your hands as you attempted to stifle your sobs.

little did you know, that he had done the same thing, fallen limp against your hotel room door. your sobs were in unison as you began to unravel, whilst he coiled into knots. forever entwined amidst your inability to be vulnerable with one another. toilsome, but ultimately true.

you didn’t know how long you stayed there. he didn’t know how long he stayed there. the two of you stayed in parallel behind a closed door, mimicking each other’s beating heart, for you knew that they would never be one.

when you woke, you were still slumped against the door. you stood, stretching out your painfully aching muscles, arched your back, twisted your neck. your eyes were swollen raw with your epidemic of tears the night prior, and you rubbed the crust away. the memories flooded through you. lando was here. he was here, and you had to haul his ass out.

you thought he was going to kiss you.

but he didn’t. your lips would remain untouched by his own.

your fingers ghosted over your mouth, shivering at the memory of him so close to you. you could feel his breath fanning over your face– the heaving, desperate puffs of air– and he felt yours, too, with the same amount of anxiety. you were a wreck before him, and he was too.

in no time you found your phone, grimacing at your battery, and the plethora of texts from rebecca and alexandra. it was still early in the morning so you had time to pull yourself together, but you had a big day with them today. qualifying was happening, and rebecca had set you up.

she set you up with raphael for the day. you knew she meant the best. and maybe it was. this was your opportunity to uphold your promise– to move on. you had to, or else you would be strung dry for the remainder of your life, with dreary hopes and aimless romantics. you would not drown in the ocean of lando norris, despite how cumbersome he gripped on your ankles.

you fixed yourself for the day. showering quickly, styling your hair to your liking. you threw on a formal chic outfit, perhaps trying a bit hard today to catch raphael’s eye– or someone else’s, by chance. but you left the unattainable at the back of your mind today, heart far too raw to be ripped open again.

you would stick with something safe. someone safe. raphael was your answer in the short term. you were sick of playing the long game, bested to your knees in the face of whatever conspired between you and the british driver. you were convinced it was for the best. it had to be. these emotions couldn’t be for nothing.

it couldn’t be for nothing.

when you arrived to the track that morning, alexandra was quick to meet your side. she had an impenetrable amount of questions for you, yearning for your answers, but you only gave her a brief overview.

“we’re done,” you said as you walked through the pit lane. “he doesn’t want me like that.”

she was clearly taken back. her hand flew over her heart, obviously distressed for you. you admired her care for you. you would do the same for her. “really?”

you nodded, gulping down the lump in your throat that was tempting to choke you.

“it’s okay.” you reaffirmed her. she made a move to speak over you, console you to the highest degree, but you stopped her. “i’m fine. swear. let’s have a good day, shall we?” you plastered on a fake smile towards her, but you knew she saw through you. but she would accept this for now when you were approached by carlos, rebecca, and raphael.

you smiled brighter when raphael came to kiss both your cheeks. you gripped his bicep. engaging in conversation with him felt easier today, and you weren’t begging for an out. you’d catch rebecca’s eye here and there, and she glowed with happiness. if you weren’t doing this for yourself, you could at least say that you were doing it for her.

raphael was not a bad man whatsoever. he smelled good, had good hygiene, and had a glowing smile. but he didn’t smell the same. didn’t have the same musk. didn’t have the harsh pricks of a stubble that burned into the skin of your neck.

fuck. you missed the feeling of that stubble.

you clung to raphael’s side for the rest of the day, a burning itch between your thighs undoing the morals of your mind. if you wanted to get over lando, you’d have to truly get over him.

it was never a ‘string’s attached’ relationship, was it? you were free to fuck whoever you want, when you want. so why would it be so bad if you wished to see raphael bend down for you?

or you wanted someone else, but raphael was the closest you’d get.

the rest of the day went by smoothly. for you, at least, but not for lando.

he had come into the mclaren paddock looking absolutely awry. his hair messy, eyes dreary with sleep and emotion, whereas you…you looked beautiful. untouched by your emotions from the night before. so much so that you were cuddled against that same fucking dude, which had lando’s blood bursting to life.

you were across in the pitlane observing the car, arms folded over your chest. that fucking guy’s hand rested on the upper part of your back, rolling soft circles with the pads of his fingers. he clenched the rim of his helmet in his hands. his teeth grinded inside his mouth, sawing down the enamel. for you, he’d have no teeth. for you were the only world he wished to bite, and even then you starved him of it.

“y’alright, mate?” oscar’s voice interrupted his thoughts. lando broke his stare from the pair of you, ripping his eyes away.

but you had turned, then, and let your eyes linger on his back.

“fine.”

that evening was no different than any other. for lando, at least, he succumbed to his hotel room for the night. he had no interest in going out. if he saw you with that spanish prick, he’d only lose himself even more. the guilt of losing you had been overturning, divulging into what a psychologist would declare as madness.

but you were the opposite. you were out on the town, clubbing with rebecca and raphael. carlos was there, too, but was saving his energy for the race tomorrow. he held no drink in his hand, but you did. you were downing shot after shot.

you were swaying your hips, grinding against raphael with a steady pace. he was into it. his dick was aggressively hard against the back side of your dress, but you weren’t scared by it. it enticed you further, in fact, and had you drawing new sensations of pleasure through you.

finally, you thought, a break from him. from lando. but the voices echoed inside the back of your mind. it bounced off the walls; he couldn’t compare.

lando would have his hands drawing up the sides of your body. fingertips scathing the fabric of your dress, teasing touches that would have you writhing in his hold, desperate for him to fuck you in the back.

lando would have his face nuzzled into your neck whispering bittersweet praises into your ear. he’d squeeze your hips with anticipation as the both of you would move in sync. always in sync. the two of you were one on the dance floor, one when you fucked one another senseless in your less than private moments. when he was particularly desperate for your touch, he’d go as far as taking you in the bathrooms at any club. he had no shame; not when it came to you.

but raphael was tame. and maybe you appreciated tame. maybe this was a new start for you. fresh and free of any unknowns.

“you’re beautiful, hermosa.” he would whisper to you, body trying its best to keep up with you. he did, for the most part, but you moved to your own beat. lando would know. he knew every inch of you. were you really prepared to be strangers?

you spun around in raphael’s arms, wrapping yours around his neck. you offered him a cheeky smile. this wasn’t you. “and you’re handsome!” it was alcohol talking. you would never be seen so exuberant. not like this.

it had raphael laughing, though, and it was enough for him to take you back to his place.

the entire way back to his place you were giggling, latching onto his tanned skin. his hair was soft, sheen, and luscious. your hands never got lost in the strands of his hair– it was too combed, not curly enough. nothing was curly enough.

and then he had you against the wall of his flat. your hands pinned against your head, and he met your lips with his. fuck, you couldn’t remember the last time you’ve been kissed. but the worst part about all of it was–

you hated it.

you tugged his head down to your neck, letting him work the sensitive skin with his tongue. your lips felt hot. blistering with a heat you haven’t felt in a long time. it felt…it felt…

raphael’s tongue found the meeting part of your underwear and skin, “can i?” he asked with a timid voice. you let out a soft moan and nodded. he tugged the fabric down, your dress still hanging off your body. you didn’t even remember if he left kisses along your neck, your breasts, you guessed his lips weren’t that memorable.

and then his tongue was against your slit. you weren’t wet enough. clearly. you could feel the chapped parts of your cunt, disappointed in your body that you couldn’t ‘get it up’ for him. whereas he was practically jacking off in his pants, you were left like a desert. it wouldn’t be like this with lando.

he explored your cunt with his tongue, narrowly dodging your clit ever so slightly. he thought your noises of pleasure were noises of distress, so he avoided touching your clit as much as possible. so he tongued you through and through, until you began to become irritated.

you couldn’t even feel tight in your stomach. the feeling couldn’t be outmatched. maybe your sexdrive had died. maybe you could never cum ever again. this was to be your fate– dry and lonely. fuck. you let your head fall back against the wall, which he took as a good sign, and kept going. instead, you threaded your hands through his hair, rolling your eyes.

you let out a few soft, faked moans. you felt guilty– of course you did– but apparently it was an olympic sport to make you cum. he certainly wouldn’t make the playoffs.

after another minute of this, you were fed up.

you tightened your cunt on command, which took a lot of fucking work, thank you, and began to heighten the sound of your moans. the award for best fake orgasm goes to: you!!! you surged forward to grip onto his shoulders, even pretending to be shaking.

you deserved an oscar.

“didn’t think i was that good.”

an egot, maybe.

you let out a soft sigh, a faked chuckle, and let him lead you to his bedroom. he fell atop of you on your back, holding himself up with the strength of his forearms. he dipped his hand down, scathing over your irritated cunt. you gasped at his hand finding your slit once again, drenched in only his spit, and without warning slipped a finger inside of you.

your mouth hung open, lurching at the sudden contact. you felt sinched beneath his weight, taught with tension. he even curled his finger inside of you. he grazed your bundle of nerves that had your squirming. squirming for more pressure. he kept hitting your spot until he pulled away. you looked confused at first, wondering where exactly he was going.

and…then he was pulling his cock out. fuck. you really weren’t going to win here, tonight, were you? not in the slightest, it seemed. he looked down at you with a knowing smirk. the same one where he thought you came beneath his tongue.

he thought you came.

fuck!

“are you ready?” he asked when his cock pushed against the skin of your lower belly. he was a good size, you admit, but you had a inkling that you weren’t going to find a sweet release with his hands. you nodded, forgetting your manners, but raphael said nothing.

he pushed into you with a discerning pace. you scrunched your nose out of his eyesight. he was too busy fucking himself into your pussy. he couldn’t even open his eyes to look at you. and, for the record, he didn’t use a condom. dick. at least you had a form of a contraceptive. you’d make sure not to let him finish inside you. that’s for fucking sure.

he slid in and out of you with the lubrication of his spit and his own precum. you didn’t move. you laid there, bored, faking a moan and gasp here and there.

the whole time you thought about someone else. and you didn’t feel guilty about it. you were able to find yourself comforted by the dreaming thought of lando’s voice in your ear. the phantom touch of his stubble. the amount of moles that you could count on his face.

with a grunt, you felt raphael push off of you, cumming onto his own sheets. he laid there, panting, and you…”did the same.”

he turned to face you, smile on his face. “did you finish?”

you nodded with an itching smile. he seemed triumphant. though you couldn’t be drier than a haystack.

your exit from his flat quickly. it’s not like he even took your dress off. he insisted that you stayed, but you retorted that you had an early morning with alexandra. whether or not that's true, you didn’t seem to care. he didn’t fight your statement and seamlessly let you go, clearly too exhausted from his evening to even see you out the door.

you hailed a cab from your hotel shamefully. you felt icky. your lip sneered when you caught a cab and tipped the driver once you arrived back. the elevator ride never seemed so tantalizingly long.

when you swiped into your room, you threw your belongings on your bed and turned on a hot shower. while you waited for the water to heat, you opened your phone.

no messages from lando.

did you expect any?

maybe.

you decided to call him. you didn’t fucking care. it was the alcohol talking.

ring…ring…ring…ring…ring…

no answer.

you left a voicemail.

“heeyyy…!!” you surged into the phone as you began to untangle your dress from your body. “i–uh, i dunno i just…wanted to call you… because i…” you swore under your breath as you couldn’t get a strap off. “sorry i…” you stuttered, laughing to yourself. “i think i miss you, lan.”

and then you hung up, singing yourself into the shower. the hot water panned over your body, fingers trailing over the mounds of your breasts. the soft skin of your abdomen.

but with your whimsy, came a price.

lando was there. he just didn’t answer your call. he had been awake, wondering what you were doing, since you were absent on almost all forms of social media. so when he got your call, he couldn’t bring himself to accept it.

then the voicemail came.

he must’ve played it over a dozen times. hearing your soft voice, amicable and kind. you had been drinking, clearly, and he could hear the sound of the shower running in the background. he held his phone against his head, other hand running through his hair. he was a wreck over you, and you were as well. drunk dialing was never a thing between the two of you.

especially an ‘i miss you.’

and how ‘lan’ slipped past your lip with such ease. the name was meant for you to use. only you.

he found himself stroking his cock to your words, the temptress in your voice. he knew she was there, baiting him, and he was no better than a fish to bite. he fisted his cock with your name on his lips, and a reminder that yours was on his.

with a pounding heartbeat and ringing in his ears, all he could think about was you. and more or less, you the same.

your fingers trailed down your navel in the shower, coming to nib at the lips of your clit. how swollen it was, angered and annoyed, that such a man could ignore it. by association, you.

a hand rolled over one of your breasts, twisting your nipple in hand. you gasped at the sensation you provided, flicking your clit between your fingers. you truly needed no more to make yourself cum, except the thought of lando’s voice in your ears.

‘come on, baby,’ he would say to you, fingers gliding along your drenched slit with ease. you clenched around nothing, whimpering to yourself in the hum of the hot shower. ‘little more for me, yeah?’ he would always talk you through it. never once would you be alone when you came. he was always there, lingering, a shadow against the walls.

you slipped a single finger inside of yourself, curling it expertly as lando taught you to. ‘just like that, sweet thing.’ he’d mutter against your shoulder as he’d fuck you on a chair facing a mirror. you could never make yourself cum before his “lessons.”

your back arched against the marble of the shower walls. your thumb and forefinger worked just like his would against your clit, massaging the bundle of nerves until a coil inside of you snapped, and you came all over yourself with his name on your lips.

and he could feel it. amongst the cosmic plane. he had been grudgingly fisting his cock, grunting your name over his lips. it was sinful, the way that his cock was spewing cum in only a matter of minutes at the thought of your voice. ‘lan, lan,’ you would say to him, ‘need it. need you inside,’ you’d whimper against him, begging for his cum to seep out of you.

he’d never deny you a pleasure. so he shouldn’t deny himself. he came in a matter of seconds over the palm of his hand, your name flustering his tongue. and he’d lay there, soaking in his milky cum, eyes blown wide at just how much of an effect you had on him; mind, body, and soul.

you stood there in the shower, flustered from heat, the slick running down your thighs. your hearts beat in unison at that moment, miles apart, on the same wavelength.

the shower wasn’t the same after that. you felt dirty, but so good. the namesake of lando’s voice in your ear was enough to have you cumming on your own fingers, but the touch of another man made you ill. what a shock that was to you. or maybe it wasn’t a surprise at all.

clean to the best of your ability, you slept easy that night. the best sleep you’ve had this weekend, in fact, with lando frolicking through your dreams. and you in his, whispering soft ‘i love you’s’ which had him writhing with pleasure. you infested every part of him, and he did the same to you. you’d never be free of lando norris, and the thought began to settle. it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but you couldn’t forget his words.

‘i don’t know,’ he spoke into your stomach. his nose pinched you. the words sliced clean. your stomach coiled not with pleasure, but anxiety. why didn’t he want you that way? why did he hesitate?

you weren’t taking his rejection well. that was clear.

but he wasn’t taking this any better. he was going through his own emotional turmoil of trying to make this up to you. it would be the last thing that he did.

when you woke that morning with a groggy headache and a sore ache between your thighs, you couldn’t help but groan. what the fuck were you doing last night? you perhaps had the most disappointing sex of your entire life, and now, as you looked in the mirror you were nothing more than mortified.

littered on your chest, above your breasts, were a few specks of bruises. hickey’s. fuck. fuck. that was one thing that was always far too intimate. kisses and hickeys. what did this mean, then, that you belonged to raphael? your fingers trailed up the bruises on your chest, the flesh tender beneath your soft touch. you winced at the memory of his cocky face, thinking that he had you finishing more than once. if at all. you leaned over the sink, washing your face off with cold water.

your hands rested at the base of your neck. your reflection stared back at you, pitiful, the bruises beneath your eyes reflected a tiredness that the word ‘exhaustion’ could not begin to fathom. you were disappointed in yourself. that much was clear.

a sigh escaped you when you finally mustered the courage to leave the bathroom. for the race today, you decided on a long dress. one that covered your chest, but hung on your shoulders. it was a beautiful piece. you’d been saving it for this weekend, and you were more than thankful that the universe seemed to be looking out for you.

you tidied up your appearance the best you could and slid on a pair of heels, grimacing at the sore ache from the night before. raphael didn’t have a valet, so you had to walk across four blocks with his hands wandering down your sides, desperate to fuck you in an alleyway. ew. you shivered at the memory, but continued on from your hotel room.

though, you took one last glance before leaving, and let your eyes rest on the balcony. it felt like a dream to see lando sitting there, his face resting against the tender flesh of your stomach. his stubble itched through the cotton of your shirt, but it rather tickled. and then he said he didn’t know what he wanted with you, and your whole life slipped right through your fingers.

he slipped through your fingers.

you shut the door.

lando’s morning, on the other hand, started off stellar in comparison to yours. he had stayed up a while longer, wondering if you would call him back, but you never did. there was a faint pang of disappointment, but much more guilt that he let you slip away so easily. he should’ve refused to leave your hotel room that night. refused by any force you attempted on him.

but he’s just that much of a fucking idiot, wasn’t he? when he left for the paddock early that morning, he glanced at his phone one last time. one missed call, and it was from you last night. and then suddenly, his heart was warm, and there was a smile on his face.

all this told him was that there was a chance. you called him. you called him whether or not you were shitfaced. blackout drunk. in your vulnerable moments you thought of him. reached out for him. fuck, he was in love with you.

in love

he paused when he shut the door behind him, frozen in place. what? is that what this was? love?

anxiety churned in his stomach. this feeling had been there for a while. a long time. and only now he was just realizing it. shit.

he fiddled with his phone in his hands. thumb hovering over your contact card, he let it fall.

it rang twice before he heard the line connect.

“yeah?” you said, demure and quiet. he knew you were exhausted. he’s heard this tone before. the tone you had when you were viciously hungover. it had him chuckling. “what?”

“good morning to you, too.” the words rolled easy from him. he suddenly felt calmer with you on the other end, but it didn’t stop the butterflies from fluttering in the pit of his stomach.

“good morning.” you said, like you were shocked that he was calling you to say good morning.

“fun night?” he asked, stepping into the elevator and hitting the ‘lobby’ button. a few members of his team were already waiting for him.

but you had froze up in the car ride to the paddock. what? how could he know? did he know that you were with raphael? you cleared your throat. “what– what do you mean?”

“you called me.”

shit.

if you weren’t fucked already, you were royally now. your hand dragged over your forehead as your head swarmed with anxious thoughts, completely forgetting about calling him and then…touching yourself in the shower to the thought of him. yikes! what a little freak you were. but lando would enjoy it.

“i–” you stuttered, voice caught in your throat. “i’m sorry…i was just…”

your voice trailed and you could hear his childish laugh from the other end. “no, no. it was cute.” you heard the elevator ding from his end, but it hard to focus on when there was a deep blush flustering your cheeks.

“i didn’t mean to bother you,” you quickly said, finding the need to apologize over and over again for disrupting his night. it was embarrassing enough as is that you had the worst sex of your life, but you called the one man that didn’t want you for consolidation. what a conundrum that was, wasn’t it?

“you didn’t.” his words were firm this time, no traces of playfulness. you perked up at this, finding yourself laughing.

“must’ve said something dumb, didn’t i?”

there was a pause.

“yeah. yeah. something dumb.”

there was another beat of silence. you shifted in the uber, the pass around your neck.

“i’ll see you there?”

you heard him suck in a tight breath, then release it.

“yeah. yeah, ‘course you will.”

you smiled. he could feel it.

“okay. bye, then.”

he said your name softly on the other end with a salutation, and the line went flat. you slammed your back against the leather seats of the car, hands rolling over your face. you rubbed your eyes, wondering if you were still dreaming.

it wasn’t fair that he could make you this way. that he had you in tears just a few nights before, and now your fingers shook with excitement. fuck him. fuck him for making you feel this way, and yet, there was no trace of annoyance on your face.

just a bright smile.

your name was called when you swiped into the paddock. it had you whipping your head up to see who it could be, but you already knew that it was alexandra. she wasn’t trailed by anyone else, thank god, and she flung her arms around you for a hug.

you sang a soft greeting towards her, and she looked up at you expectantly. you raised a brow.

“so…!?”

you narrowed your eyes.

“your night with…!” her voice dropped to a whisper. “raphael.”

you shushed her, looking around, before you held one of her hands in yours. “you want the truth?” her facial expression dropped, but she nodded anyways.

“awful.”

she groaned, head rolling back in disappointment. “i told rebecca it wasn’t a good idea.”

“the sex was…horrible. just…i mean, what the fuck?” alexandra burst out into a laugh as the both of you joined side by side towards the ferrari hospitality. you dreaded going, given the unanswered texts for him, you didn’t want to be confronted with…anything.

“most importantly…” alexandra stopped the two of you before you entered. “are you over him?”

him. the inevitable.

you swallowed.

and nodded your head.

alexandra was only slightly pleased and gave you a reassuring smile. boy, this would be a long day.

before the race started you were wandering around the pitlane with your miniature crew of ferrari girlfriends and their friends. raphael had found you, eagerly, with a prideful smile on his face. out of kindness, you returned the gesture, and let him linger around you for the day.

ferrari’s pit was next to mclaren’s. you couldn’t help but stare.

lando was there. in his papaya race suit. he was speaking to his engineers, and never glanced your way. look at me, you wanted to shout. please, your mind begged. but you stayed firm at raphael’s side.

he dared to stretch out his hand to let it loiter on your waist, but you shimmied out of the contact with an awkward smile. he noticed, but didn’t say anything.

lando did too.

but not what you wanted him to see. he saw you with raphael’s arm around your waist. you were smiling, laughing, in their presence. whereas he couldn’t even bear a night out without the cumbersome thoughts of you constricting his mind. he thought of nothing but you. and here you were, haphazardly dangling this spanish prick in front of his face. fucker.

you turned to look at lando again, free of raphael’s touch. he was staring.

your heart beat faster, eyes widened. your palms were sweating– why were they sweating? he looked pissed, frustrated, but you didn’t know why. your brows upturned with a soft expression that he yearned for, and his envy flushed away.

it was that easy. your gentle features. the concern ridden in your face.

you even gave him a small wave, twiddling your fingers. he was bashful in response, and returned it with a small twist of his own fingers.

but his eyes carried down. towards your chest. you blinked, realizing that part of your dress had slipped further. there was an obvious bruise making an appearance, and you felt guilty. guilty as if you had cheated on him, but you were never in a relationship to begin with.

you saw his jaw tightened and his hands flex before he turned, leaving you speechless.

and then you were dragged away, just like that, into the viewing panel for the race. they were about to start their formation lap, yet you could barely focus with your racing heart.

it past with ease. raphael tried to get closer to you, but you found excuses to stay huddled at alexandra’s side. she noticed, and even wrapped her own arm around your waist. the two of you were a picturesque vision of divine femininity. you felt untouchable at her side, incomparable to any girlfriend you’ve ever had.

lando was fighting hard. he was aggressive on the straits, pushing past the limits of his drs. your hand traced over your chin as you watched the tv intensely, frightened when you saw him make contact with one of the mercedes drivers.

“what is he doing…” you muttered under your breath. your nailbeds were being hacked on by your teeth, chewing them down to the stump. parts of your thumbs streamed with blood.

little to your knowledge, your reaction had been broadcasted. alexandra’s face unfurled with a cheeky look, realizing that she had been played by your deception from earlier. you were not over him. in fact, you were entirely worse than before. your concern was ebbed through the power of media, and that wouldn’t be forgotten.

“are you okay?” came raphael’s voice. you didn’t even look at him.

“fine.”

he took your cold tone in earnest, realizing that there was something more at stake here.

you couldn’t be more grateful when lando passed the checkered flag. your hand found the column of your throat, finding comfort. you let your face be consumed by a smile, one similar to raphael’s when he thought he made you came. stupid man, you thought, glancing towards the spaniard. you had a new priority now.

you had to prove that you wanted lando. but how? everything felt like it was becoming too complicated. your fates were intertwined via an invisible string.

and you didn’t even go to his podium.

he looked for you, sweat dripping down his forehead, but didn’t see you. it had him grow weary, agitated. he raced this hard so he could prove himself to you. prove that he was better than some lowlife.

but he fears he lost you.

the hickey’s on your neck spoke volumes. you fucked him. fucked that stranger. his fists curled around the trophy, break-necking the medal display.

did you come?

no. stop that. it’s none of his business to ask–

she didn’t. you couldn’t.

the pieces began to fall in place in his head. the phone call. you called him…when you needed him most.

it suddenly made holding this trophy all the more worthwhile, and he even donned a smile on his face when he raised it high above his head. this, he thought, was victory.

the night came as swiftly as the day went. you were getting ready to go out, alexandra reminding you to schedule your uber. you did. the dress you wore this evening was short. one of your favorite colors, and had a high neckline. for obvious reasons. you were entirely mortified that raphael felt the primal need to mark you like some bitch. it had your stomach twisting with anger, fingers pulsing with a punch.

but your violent urges stayed dormant when you met up with alexandra, charles, rebecca, carlos, and…raphael. jeez, what a lot you’ve surrounded yourself with. raphael was at your side in an instant when you climbed out of the uber, refusing to give you a morsel of space. it had your lip curling, grimacing down the vomit that curdled in your throat.

you barely spoke a word to him tonight. there was nothing more to say to him. if you were to say anything, it would be a rotten lie.

alexandra tugged you along through the doors, charles at her flank, which you gladly let her do. anything to get away from raphael would be best for you, given how much you didn’t want to confront him. it was just for the weekend, right? no strings attached.

no strings attached, echoed through your mind. flashes of lando’s hands on your hips, the phantom embrace that tensed around your flesh, seeped into your head. your heart plummeted against your will, looking around futilely for his bright smile amongst the sea of oncomers.

it didn’t take you long.

but you wish that it did.

he had his arm slung around some girl, hat backwards, first few buttons undone on his white dress shirt. hands clamming up, you tightened them together over your front, letting your eyes gawk at such a beautiful pairing. it was a different girl than the one you had rudely met in monaco.

another one of his girls.

your mind begged you to let it go. but your heart chained itself to lando, refusing to let go this…infatuation that had you sick to your stomach. what did she have that you didn’t? was she nonchalant? was she a cool girl?

your staring lasted too long. lando saw you. he felt your eyes– your heated stare, beckoning his attention. he answered your call, glancing directly at you. but he did not wave.

neither did you.

the urge thwarted you to look anywhere else but him, tugged your attention elsewhere, but you stayed firm on his freckled face, sharp cheekbones, his daunting stare. you felt the beat of his heart from across the room, the bass boosted rap, his irritability when raphael came to rest a hand on your hip. but you did not turn away from this fight. your arsenal was loaded, and so was his.

lando glanced at raphael, first to break eye contact, and swug the rest of his cocktail in hand. he let the glass slide across the counter of the bar before tugging the girl at his side to his front, the pair of them dancing with one another.

fine, if he wants to play, then you’ll play.

you were handed a cocktail by raphael. you thanked him sincerely before you downed your own in one gulp. raphael gaped at you with a slack jaw. you wiped the loose drops from your jaw, and offered him your hand.

“dance with me?”

raphael didn’t need to be asked twice when he took your hand. you led him deeper into the club, the led lights brightening both your faces. in this light, you supposed that he was irrecoverably handsome. and the thought slipped through your mind that maybe, just maybe, you could’ve had a good life with him. that in some universe that you could get over this feud with a man who doesn’t want you, you’d have a well-earned chance at happiness.

but the thought left just as quickly as it came.

your hips were against his. ass against his crotch, grinding in a rough series of movements. he began growing accustomed to how you moved, and that much you could be thankful for. no longer would the two of you be awkward on the dance floor, fragile hands trembling against your body. he felt more confident, but you could tell there was something brewing behind those big brown eyes of his. but you honestly couldn’t care less, not when you were distracted.

not when your eyes were entranced on a man who treated you like garbage. who cried in your arms, begged for your presence. then, left your hotel room with tears streaming down your face.

his hands were tightly wound around the girls abdomen, cocky expression glazing his face. he spoke to a few of his buddies here, too, amply looking like a douche. one that who knew exactly what he was doing to girls. fuck.

you were just one of his girls.

this enraged you. but it shouldn’t. but it did. there was no excuse for your fray of emotions. they simply existed, and you were going to deal with them. not in a responsible way. no, you were far too gone for that. alcohol warmed your throat, your palms, your chest.

you let your head lean back onto raphael’s shoulder, your mouth coming to his ear. “you can touch me.” you encouraged him. he seemed to lighten at this, becoming bold enough to let his hands trail up your body. he’d indulge in your shape, letting his fingers imprint against the globes of your breasts, the lining of your panties beneath your dress.

a light giggle left you when you let your head rise from his blades, and were met with an aggressive, terrifying, stare from across the room.

your lips puckered.

lando’s head was resting on the girl’s shoulder, his hips swaying with hers, but his eyes were trained on you. you, you, and more you. he was glaring at the man behind you, his gaze so bitter that it soured even your own tongue. it was the miniscule amount of guilt that flustered your head, but you shoved it down.

lando retaliated, beginning to kiss on the girls neck. she leaned against him, a gorgeous smile lighting up the room.

you grumbled, turning your head to meet raphael’s eyes. your eyes pleaded with a language of seduction, one that any man could understand.

raphael took the bait.

his lips trailed down your ear, down the column of your neck. all whilst your back was pressed against his front, you felt the outline of his dick. your palm tightened at the memory of how he attempted to fuck you, but you had to remain composed. you couldn’t fail now.

your lip caught between your teeth for dramatics. like you were holding back a moan.

lando was watching. in fact, he never stopped. he was drunk on the addiction of watching you. watching you grind your hips on that fuckin’ guy, not even wince when his lips were glossing over the sensitive flesh of your neck. could he make you wet with just his mouth?

the british driver could feel his end nearing. if this progressed any further, he’d drag your ass to the bathroom and fuck you like you’d deserve. he didn’t give a fuck. not anymore. not when your lip was bitten by your top row of teeth, an illusive point to how that guy was pleasuring you. he felt fucking sick. though he was starving to the same degree.

his chest was aflame at your teasing touches on your own body. he could see the outline of your panties, the lack of a bra. your nipples were pinching against the fabric that confined them, and he had to stop himself from drooling. you were so fucking sexy.

the girl at his front was growing bored of her lack of attention. he, honestly, didn’t even remember her name. but he’d suffice it with a swirl of his tongue around the skin of her jaw. it was a critical move, since he knew that you’d never let yourself be kissed. you wouldn’t risk such intimacy with a man you’ve only known for a few days–

except you would.

this was war, wasn’t it?

watching lando suck and slurp on that girl’s neck had you desperate to come up with an alternate idea. an approach that would crown you victorious without a second thought. it was cruel, you knew this, but you were out of options. you had something to prove. prove that you were over him. though, you knew that this would end in one of two ways;

him, fucking you.

or, him leaving.

you much preferred the latter.

with enough fury boiling in your bones, you lifted your head to meet raphael’s eyes. with your pointer finger, you let it roll over his chin, connecting with your thumb. you glanced at his lips, your tongue wetting your own, and pulled him to meet you.

raphael said your name into your mouth, nervous to even let his tongue explore yours. you sucked in a tight breath, lip curling to reference a snarl at how much you despised the sensation. it was messy, wet, and you felt instantly disgusted with yourself for even letting him touch your lips. you felt like you jumped too far into a relationship with raphael, even though you were certain that you didn’t want one.

“be my girlfriend,” raphael breathed into your mouth. you hummed a laugh, thinking that he was joking. but he moved to separate you too, staring at you with a brazen thoroughness that you never wished to see again.

“i’m serious. i want–”

“‘scuse me, mate,” you knew that voice. you knew that voice too well. your head spun around to see lando leering dangerously close to raphael’s face, the heat of his body emanating onto your own. he stood only a few inches from you.

you felt his hand ghost over the small of your back, and you suddenly felt desperate to feel it. with your lips raw from that kiss, your fingertip glazed over the flesh, your eyes lost in lando’s tense expression. his jaw was tightened, chest doing it’s best to keep his heated expression under control. however, that control was slipping with every passing moment that you were in raphael’s arms.

raphael turned his attention to lando, suddenly pissed. “need something?”

lando gave him a hoarse chuckle. “yeah. can i borrow your lady for a second?”

raphael made a move to shake his head. “no, we were just—”

“thanks, mate.” lando gripped your back with his fingertips, digging into the skin without mercy. you felt his anger rolling off of him in tense waves, the urge to consolidate him overwhelming. he led you through the crowds of people with an insurmountable force, jaw tightly clenched the entire way. you could practically hear his teeth grinding against one another.

he said nothing until he opened– no, broke the door– to the bathroom. it was a single stall– no one was in there. he allowed you to enter first, stretching out his arm as a much needed signal. you waited a moment, arms crossing over your chest.

his eyes didn’t relent. he would wait here all fucking day before you decided to go in. and you did. he locked the door behind the two of you in an instant.

“what the fuck are you–” you began to scold, back turned to him as you approached the mirror and the sink. you were interrupted when he spun you around, hand place firmly on your hip. the contact had you gasping, glancing down at his hand.

“so, what?” he said, looking down at you through hooded eyes, blown pupils. his heart was electrified, hidden behind his cage of ribs, and one hand flexed as it gripped the edges of the porcelain sink. he hummed, “hm? he your boyfriend now?”you gaped at him. “you’re serious?” you stifled a laugh, unbelieving of his attitude. “what’s it to you, lando? hm?”

his shoulders tensed. “you shouldn’t be with him.”

you rolled your eyes. lando gripped your chin, demanding your attention. “why not, then? ‘m i supposed to be your whore forever?”

his thumb rolled over your bottom lip. “you never were,” he tsked. you were bewildered. brow raising, however difficult to focus when his hand around your hip began to swirl circles on your skin.

“what the fuck are you saying, then, lando? you need to–”

“you let him kiss you.”

you froze.

“never me. why?” his restraint was slipping. his forehead edged closer and closer to yours until you could feel his breath fanning across your face.

“why?” he asked again, his nose brushing against your own. you shook your head ‘no,’ lip beginning to quiver beneath his body. his chest pressed against your own as he got closer. he needed to be closer. “he fuck you better? hm? that it?”

you shuddered when you felt his fingers lower from your hip, trailing circles towards your navel, the slit of your dress that met your upper thigh.

“go on,” he urged, his voice tense from gritting his teeth. “tell me. tell me, and i’ll stop.”

you stayed quiet except for the whimper that left your throat when his fingers curled against your panties, a dampened spot ruining the fabric. there was a deep chuckle against your face, lando’s forehead still against your own. you tightened your lips together, not daring a word to spill.

“tell me, and i’ll let you go party with your new boy.”

“fuck you,” you bit out, seething with your desire, angered with his jealous antics.

“yeah? yeah? you want ‘ta fuck me?” there was no way of hiding his cocky grin. it could be seen from miles away, even when his face was millimeters from yours.

“you’re an asshole,” you heaved, your hips bucking when he began to slide your underwear to the side. your breaths were harsh against his cheeks.

“must like ‘em mean, then,” he cooed, followed by a deep chuckle. “‘cause you’re drippin’ for me.” you felt your slick seep around his fingers as h grazed the puffy lips of your cunt. your head was thrown back against the concrete wall, smacking against the surface. lando was quick to adjust your head, his fingers tugging into your hair.

“fuck,” you sighed, finding his pleasures undeniable. he was so on edge from seeing you kissing raphael, that he was lost in his madness. this pent up lust was bursting from its locked away jar, pouring its fury onto you. “touch me, lando. please–”

with a swift motion he perched you onto the porcelain sink, your head lolling against the mirror, supported by his palm. he tugged you forward so your glossy cunt stained the front of his black pants. the wet spot was pertinent, your face flushing with embarrassment. you were supposed to hate this. why did you love it?

“‘am touchin’ you, baby.” his middle finger teased you, blessing you with a split moment of euphoria of grazing your clit. you moaned, eyes fluttering shut. “look at me,” his hand tightened in your hair. your eyes flashed open, face to face with his crooked, loving smile. “look at me when i make you cum.”

you nodded, whimpering rapidly. he grinned harder at your desperate, pleading tone. though you spoke no words, he could tell just how badly you needed him.

“inside,” your begging didn’t cease, especially when he was still refusing to slide a finger inside of you. “please, please—”

your words were cut off when his middle finger curled sweetly inside of you, eliciting the sweetest pleasure you have felt in weeks. the moan you delivered was guttural, deep, and most of all, primal. lando’s dick pulsated in his pants, his fingers twitching at your lewd voice.

a hand reached out to grip onto his bicep, your head falling into the crook of his neck. you felt undeniably at ease in his hold, despite the hurt that he’s caused you.

his finger began to slide in and out of you, scissoring you to high hell and back, and you were putty in his hands. moments like these is what he favored most with you, but he would take anything to be in your presence. he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt when he swooped you up from that asshole’s arms, leaving him shocked and disrespected. lando was keen enough to twist his head over his shoulder when he led you away, watching as raphael’s face contorted with disappointment. it had his jaw tensing, resisting the urge to smirk.

“come on, baby,” lando’s voice cut through your high, your naval tightening with a hot pressure. “know you’re close. can feel it.”

he added a second finger, using his thumb to roll over your sensitive bundle of nerves. the stimulation was overwhelming, your throat raw with the carnal moans he drew from your depths. he’d be the only one to hear any of these ever again. he promised himself that much.

your orgasm was imminent, the coil in your belly snapping with a hopeless yearning you’ve been deprived of for what feels like an eternity. slick covered the palm of his hand, and your eyes had locked onto his. he watched as you trembled with desire, legs twitched around his waist. with one quick move he brought his two fingers to your lips.

you knew what he wanted.

you’ve never tasted yourself before. but your lips parted, and he lathered your slick over your tongue. you sucked in earnest over his calloused digits, lips puckering, cheeks hollowing. you swallowed, letting your tongue linger over his fingertips.

“now you know,” he whispered, clutching you tight. “why i can’t stay away.” for a brief moment, you thought he was mentioning because of the taste of your cunt. but with the deep look in his eyes, you knew it meant more. you were made for him. both in spirit and sensuality.

lando spun you around from your seat atop the sink, having you flipped, staring at your reflection in the mirror. you look disheveled, and downright fucked. your feet met the ground, the palm of his hand spreading over the expanse of your back, flattening you to a ninety degree angle.

“lift your hips for me, love,” you obeyed without second thoughts, rising to your tip toes as he ran his fingers along the underside of your thighs, pulling down the fabric of your panties. they hit the floor, and your cunt went rigid with the cold air. but you heard lando making fast work with his belt, his jeans, and you sifted back and forth. you even turned to look at him over your shoulder, lashes batting unintentionally at the spring of his cock against his lower belly.

“missed this,” he breathed, saddling his hand at the base of your neck. you pushed into his hold, deepening the connection.

your exhaustion didn’t impede your ability to get fucked. that was for sure. lando wasn’t going to spare a single effort on your behalf. he was riled, pent up, and now he wanted to see tears in your eyes as you were split open on his cock. it was a promise.

“missed you.” you mumbled. lando’s hand tightened around the frontal base of your throat.

“what was that?”

you whimpered. “missed you!”

“atta girl.” he was pleased with your higher volume, and awarded you by edging the tip of his cock through your folds. you lurched forward, gripping onto the dish of the sink. a deep groan left you, and he gave you a grace period to adjust. but it took too long. you wanted him deep. bottomed out. until there was nothing else for you to give.

“show me,” you grit your teeth. “show me he’s not good enough.”

your words seemed to ignite a flame inside of lando that couldn’t be ignored. you felt him huff air, the sensation tickling your spine, and he thrust himself inside of you. forget a grace period, you were going straight to heaven.

you moaned, his cock stimulating a perverse area inside your cunt that no man could ever reach. lando was out for blood to prove that he was the only man that could truly fuck you. and fuck you he would.

the sound of skin slapping echoed through the bathroom. your moans intertwined with his mewls, creating an atmosphere derived from both of your pleasures alone. nothing would ever compare to this feeling. how he curved deliciously inside of you, how you tightened so mercilessly around his cock. he’d let himself run dry so he could feel your tight walls each night.

the pressure of his hand around your throat didn’t relent. with his index and thumb squeezing at every point he bottomed out, you swore you were seeing stars. you were an irrecoverable mess in lando’s arms, and that’s just the way he wanted you. in the reflection of the mirror stared the fading marks that fucker left on your skin. but he was determined to make his own. and it was different that you’d let him. without a doubt, he could bite through your skin, make you bleed for all you fucking cared.

“who’s fucking you this good?” lando asked, hand tightening briefly for your response. you were lost in your haze, unable to truly focus on his words. your brows furrowed.

“you,” you said, breathless, clenching onto the sink with all your prospective might.

“who?” he prodded further, opposite hand coming to rub at your clit. you seethed, breath tightening in your throat. tears burned at your retinas, the skillful work of his fingers bringing you to an oncoming orgasm. lando felt it, and paused his fingers.

you whimpered, then looked at him in the mirror. he loomed like no man you’ve ever seen. darkened eyes, sweaty hair. fuck, he’s so hot. “you!”

his fingers returned their assault on your clit, and you could feel the burning heat once more. you grinded hopelessly against the palm of his hand, which he responded as to pinching the bundle of nerves atop your cunt to with more pressure.

it didn’t take long before you were keeling over the sink, his hand around your neck forcing you to arch before him. with your unbearably tight cunt, he came with you, filling you with hot ropes of cum. the feeling of him warm, vested in your walls brought you a comfort like nothing else.

lando’s head fell forward with his heaving chest onto the base of your neck. his heart was beating so fast, you could feel it. you lifted yourself from the downward angle of the sink, his hands coming to steady you despite his exhaustion.

“i lied to you before,” he spoke into the skin of your neck. too fucked out to really process what he was saying, you turned slightly to catch one of his eyes. “you aren’t a favorite.”

you frowned, still confused, heart feeling ripped open once more.

“you’re the only girl.”

you turned fully this time to face him.

“what?”

“you heard me.” you did. that was true. but what you didn’t believe was true, was his words.

“don’t…” you begged. “don’t play with me anymore, lan…” the nickname rolled off your tongue with ease. “i can’t…i can’t wait for someone who doesn’t…” love, “want me the same.”

lando brushed a stray hair from your forehead. he let himself lean into you. your bodies fit together perfectly.

“what do you want, then?”

your voice was caught in your throat. there was a million things you wanted, but there was only one thing you needed.

“i need you.”

need cut through his body like wild flower to barley. need was the mending his heart needed. need was the remedy of his uncertainties about you.

his face upturned into a smile.

“i can’t do this,” he said, taking a breath. “any of this, without you. need you here, with me,” with his forehead touching yours, you could feel his lashes against your browline.

“lando…”

he shook his head. your name was soft on his tongue. “please, please, stay with me. i should’ve never left that hotel room. never.”

your cheeks were wet. but they weren’t from your tears. his. his lip was quivering when you opened your eyes, his own shut as if he were too afraid to face you.

and instead of answering him with words, you tilted your head up, and let your lips collide with his. torn into shock, lando’s eyes flew open, unbelieving of what was happening. you were kissing him. your lips on his, intimate. you wanted to be intimate with him, not just fuck him.

his eyes fluttered shut, and his hand came to wrap around the back of your neck. he returned your kiss, tongue eager to explore the cavern of your mouth, and you let him. you had been afraid to let him kiss you, fearful that you would become addicted to this pleasure.

you were right in your fear. there was never a universe where you wouldn’t be drunk on his tongue, craving his teeth clashing with your own. it was an ensued battle with your mouths, one you weren’t going to relent easily. but he remained victorious and let his tongue run over yours. the two of you were inseparable, body and spirit.

there was finally a blasted knock on the bathroom door, which had you jumping. lando turned his head over his shoulder, and was quick to drop to his knees to roll your panties back up.

“like you down there,” you commented from him on his knees. he turned to look at you with a knowing smirk, and kissed the skin of your thighs. when he stood at his full height, he adjusted his own pants, looking presentable enough.

“beautiful.” he complimented, leaning in for a plethora of kisses. he kissed all around your mouth, your nose, your jaw, before he landed on your mouth.

“i love you,” he blurted out against your lips. you gaped at him and he was worried you wouldn’t feel the same. but the two of you knew this answer for a long, long time.

your brows upturned. “i love you too.”

his hand fell on your lower back, guiding you out of the bathroom. “guess you’re my girl now, yeah?”

you slapped his bicep. “we have a lot to talk about, but for tonight…” you nodded.

he was happy enough with that answer.

“gotta let raphael down easy…” you mumbled as lando held the door open for you.

“oh…!” he said in an exaggerated tone. “that’s what his name is.”

taglist

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churipu · 8 months ago

Note

Ipinnn hear me out. Gojo sees his gf reader (who is stoic, a typical intj lol) saved his contact on her phone as "pretty boy". Note: reader never calls him any petname. Not even babe. Please your take on this😗😗 this thought has been plaguing my mind.

An intj char>> Wednesday Addams

𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗬 𝗕𝗢𝗬 𝗘𝗫𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗦 !

────── 𝕴 . featuring. gojo satoru x fem! reader

────── 𝕴 . warnings. nothing, happy reading :)

note. hi hi nonnie, i'm so so so so sorry for the late update on your ask. i know you had a follow up ask and told me that this isn't a request, but i really wanted to write one for gojo because, honestly, gojo, brainrot. yes. anyways, i hope you enjoy this <3

"baby, can i please borrow your phone? i need to ring nanami for a mission," gojo poked your cheek — a couple of times at that, his blindfold holding back his white locks like a bandana, "i forgot to charge mine last night, please please?"

you cocked your head to the side where your phone laid right by your thigh, "password's your birthday."

gojo almost choked on his own saliva at the sound of his own birthday being your phone's password. a small device that's somehow supposed to be your safe sanctuary. considering how you don't have the sweetest tongue, this was a big honor for him.

he dived right beside you, clicking his birthday into the password engine and like you said — it unlocked the phone. gojo spared you a glance, "'ts really my birthday? your password's my birthday?"

humming in agreement, you then felt his lips land on your cheek. grazing your skin gently, "i thought you knew?"

gojo shook his head, "i didn't, but now i do!"

the man respects your privacy like you respected his, and so like his earlier words — he placed the phone to his ear after clicking in various numbers. it took him a while to start speaking, specifically after the third try.

you just knew nanami was ignoring his calls.

gojo began scolding, supposedly nanami who was on the other line regarding his late actions in picking up the call (which was not a rare occurrence at all) — but dived back in the topic pretty quickly, mentioning a mission a couple of times along with the name of itadori yuuji, whom you vividly recognized as sukuna's vessel.

your boyfriend then ended the call after cheerfully marveling out a goodbye. and just then, like something dawned upon you, your eyes traveled to him, "can you help me send a message to you."

gojo raises his brow in apparent confusion, but he nodded anyways, "to me? about what? why don't you just say it to me now, baby? 'm right here, why do you have to send me a message?"

"because there are a lot of things i want to ask for the next time you go on a mission," you mutter.

he tapped on your phone screen a couple of times, eyebrows furrowing deeply, "baby, why aren't i in your messages? did you block me?" his heart dropped to his stomach when he showed you the phone screen.

you wondered why he never bothered on checking the various profile pictures that sat inside a small sphere right beside their respectable contact names — sighing, you grabbed your phone and showed him the screen again, "what do you mean? you're pinned, right there," you pointed your index finger towards the message at the very top.

gojo blinked his cerulean blue eyes vigorously, eyeing the contact. my pretty boy. with a red heart emoji he never saw you use along your messages to anyone, not even him.

but there his contact sat on the very top, with a nickname, and an emoji. his mouth formed a little 'o' and he looks at you, "you named me your pretty boy?" his voice came out delicate, as if he was still washed over in surprise.

nodding your head, gojo slipped himself into your embrace, leaning his head into the space in between your neck and shoulder blade. his soft breaths hitting your skin, "satoru?"

"'m so happy, i could die." he dramatically whispers, "i'm pinned, you gave me a nickname, and then a red heart emoji? baby, do you know how happy that makes me?"

he slightly pulls back from you, staring into your eyes as you slowly shake your head, wondering what has gotten into him this time.

"did you really think i'd name anyone else that when you're my boyfriend, 'toru?" you questioned him, poking his cheek, "you didn't even question about my pinned message too."

gojo leaned his forehead towards yours, "what can i say? it's not like you could cheat on someone like me, 'm too charming," he teases you with a small smile before pressing a quick kiss to the tip of your nose, resulting in you scrunching it up slightly.

"whatever you say," you tell him, "what i was going to tell you is that — could you bring me back a lot of kikufuku next time? you ate everything last time and i didn't get any."

he chuckles, "anything for you, and yes you did get a lot."

"if one piece out of twelve is a lot, then i'm sorry for being dramatic," gojo laughs softly at the sight of how serious you looked while saying the said statement, "why're you laughing?"

he shook his head, "you're just too cute."

"can you send the message now so you won't forget the next time? and pin it, please. i really want them," gojo tangled his slender fingers in your hair, brushing them back.

"baby, i could get them for you right now, you know that?"

"i know, but you seemed very busy today so i could wait until you finish a mission," you mumbled, hand on his arm, rubbing them up and down his skin, "didn't want to bother you today."

gojo frowns a bit, "you're never a bother, say it. come on, say it."

you eye him oddly, "say what?"

"that you want me to go get you some kikufuku, three box, six box, ten, a hundred, you name me a number and i'll get them for you right now." he cooed — he brushed his lips against the side of your face, "come on, 'm waiting."

breaking a ghost of a smile, you nod, "i want them now, two box. one for you and one for me," raising up two fingers.

gojo nodded, "two box it is, pretty boy express coming through," he finally pecked your lips delightfully.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #fluff #gojo satoru oneshot #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #female reader #satoru gojo

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angelbaby191 · 19 days ago

Note

Okay I have a request and this is my first one. But can u possibly do one with bakugo with reader who goes like nonverbal..and so they point at things or make very expressive body movements to ask for what they want? I don't really mind what type of plot u do with this Even if you don't do this request THANK YOU SM!

OMG, this is adorbs!! Of course I can!! Thank you for the request!! As much as this is your first time asking, this is my first time answering one!! So I really hope you enjoy this!! (It's kinda rushed, I had class in 10 minutes when I wrote it) Ah!! I'm so excited, here you go!!

_________________________________________________

When You're Ready

Bakugo x Non-Verbal! Reader

The soft, rhythmic tapping of your fingers against your phone screen was the only sound in the dimly lit room, save for the occasional sigh that escaped your lips. You were curled up in your favorite spot, the giant bean bag chair in the corner of your dorm room. It had always been a sanctuary, a place where you could hide away from the pressures of the world, especially after a difficult day. But today, something felt off. The dull ache in your chest wasn’t from physical exhaustion; it was something deeper, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

The incident in training had been small, insignificant even, but it triggered something. Something that made your breath quicken and your hands tremble, but you kept your eyes on your phone, pretending like everything was fine. You could hear Aoyama's voice echoing in your head, the way he’d told Bakugo about what happened. You could almost hear the concern in his voice.

It didn’t take long before Bakugo barged through the door. You didn’t even have time to react before his heavy footsteps pounded across the floor, his usual intense energy filling the room. But this time, there was something different in his expression—something frantic beneath the usual fiery exterior.

“Oi, dumbass, ya good?” His voice was rough, but you could hear the underlying concern, even if he refused to admit it.

You didn’t answer immediately, your thumb still scrolling absentmindedly on your screen. The silence between you two stretched, and Bakugo’s sharp eyes flickered across the room, landing on you. His gaze softened for a split second when he saw the way you were curled into the bean bag chair, small, vulnerable.

Then, his eyes locked on something else: the hoodie you were wearing. His hoodie. The one you had "borrowed" from him a while back and never returned. The one that was now swallowed by your frame, the sleeves hanging past your hands, and the fabric sagging off your shoulders.

Something about the sight of you in it, wrapped up in the warmth of something that was his, caused a strange lump to form in his throat. He cleared his throat and took a step closer, medical kit in hand, the usual bravado he carried with him faltering.

“Yer not foolin' anyone,” he muttered, his voice rougher than usual. “I know somethin’ happened. Sparkly-shit told me.”

You flinched, the mention of the incident making your chest tighten again. You were supposed to be fine. It wasn’t supposed to affect you like this. But it did, and now, here he was, standing in front of you like some overbearing volcano.

When you didn’t answer, Bakugo’s eyes softened just a fraction more, and he dropped the medical kit onto the nearby table. His hands hovered awkwardly, like he didn’t know how to help, but he was determined to.

He watched as you shook your head slowly, a tiny, silent rejection of the world around you. Then, you shrugged, your gaze flicking to the side to avoid his. It was like you were trying to disappear into the chair. Bakugo’s chest tightened as he realized what was happening—you were shutting down, going non-verbal, and he could see it now. Your body was tense, your eyes glossed over, and the small, fragile walls you’d built around yourself were already in place.

“Oi.” His voice was softer this time, almost a whisper, but still laced with a hard edge. “Move over. Imma sit with ya”

You hesitated for a moment, but then, without looking at him, you made room for him to settle behind you. Bakugo didn’t need any more invitation. He sat down, the air in the room shifting as he pressed his back against the soft cushion of the chair, his chest just brushing against your back.

For a moment, everything was still, the only sound being the soft rhythm of his breathing behind you. Your heartbeat slowly began to even out, the tension in your body beginning to fade. His presence—always so forceful and loud—was different now. It wasn’t demanding. It wasn’t trying to fix you. It was just there, steady and grounding.

He leaned in slightly, his lips near your ear, the faintest warmth from his breath making your skin tingle. “Ya don’t have to tell me what’s up right now,” he murmured, his voice quiet and steady, but laced with that signature Bakugo tenderness you didn’t expect. “Ya can tell me later. When you’re ready, dumbass.”

A small, quiet breath escaped you, the weight in your chest lifting just a little as his words settled over you. He wasn’t pushing, wasn’t forcing you to open up. He was just there, offering his presence in the only way he knew how.

You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t need to. His chest against your back, the warmth of the hoodie, the familiar scent of him—it was enough to start unraveling the tension that had built up inside you all day.

For now, that was all you needed. And Bakugo? He was content to stay there with you, letting you take your time.

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todomochi-uwu · 4 months ago

Text

“Hey, you up?” B.C

Pairing: Bang Chan x reader

Genre: Angst, Smut

Warnings: This content is for a mature audience

Synopsis: Don't wanna end this game Hope it goes for eternity Let's not go official, we can keep the "You & Me" Don't ask, "What are we?"

Author's notes: This is sad and steamy. It's been quite some time, sorry. Hope you like it.

Masterlist

If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕

“Hey, you up?”

Nights like this always start the same. Same message, same reply, same outcome. Every. Single. Time. And every time you end up the same way. Tangled in your cold bed sheets, staring at ceiling, while he’s quick to look for his clothes and get out as quick as possible. A long time ago you had tried to get him to stay, but now you know it is a lost cause. Chan would never stay over, because staying over is for people in relationships, and he doesn’t do relationships.

“I’ve never liked labels, if we are having fun, why spoilt it with technicalities?”, he said.

Things started with you being naive enough to believe that sex would be enough for your fragile heart. Maybe you could get closer to him little by little, you thought, maybe he would grow feelings (well, at least you did) maybe, maybe, maybe...

Sex with Chan is great, mind-blowing, you’d never had someone who was so focused on your body, on what you like and what sends you over the edge. It was like he had memorized every single nerve of your body, knowing where to touch, where to suck, like or bite. It was everything he did that made you almost addicted to him; the way his fingers would reach places yours could never even imagine; how his tongue and lips seemed to be able to go on forever, never once complaining; the way his hips and his cock would move and thrust sending you into heaven every single time. Chan was a giver in bed, always making sure to put you first while in bed, many orgasms, and blissful hours at a time, but as soon as you were done, he went back to being the same detached man you know.

And while at first, you could somewhat stand this kind of relationship, it was slowly destroying you on the inside. So, now you lay there, staring at your phone screen, debating yourself. Would it be worth it? At least for a few hours, to be in his arms until your little bubble pops once he’s had his fill. Saving your soul and your mental peace would be a wise decision, but you are weak, weak and in love.

“Fuck, Chris!” You pulled his hair, his head between your legs, while his lips are wrapped around your clit and his fingers piston in and out of your hole. His other hand keeps your legs open while you thrash them around, unable to keep them still.

His fingers change into their angle, making you throw your head back, now his tongue kitten licks your small bundle of nerves, “Common, pretty girl. Cum one more time and I’ll fuck you the way you like.” His lips sucked harshly.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, please, please, please.” You didn't even know what you were begging for, “Don’t stop, Chan.” Tears threatened to come out, it was too much.

“You are doing so good, such a good girl, my perfect little slut. Come on, baby cum.” His tongue thrusting itself into you, sending you over the edge. Your back arched and you let out such a sound you were sure the neighbours would complain in the morning, but you couldn't care less right now.

Eyes closed and desperate for air, your legs numb and a tingly feeling between them, Chan kept lapping at your centre, slurping all your juices, overstimulating you. Your mind was in complete bliss, making you unaware of the producer’s next plans. He was quick to turn you around, grabbing your hips and putting you in four.

“Fucking hell, you have no idea how much I love your ass.” He said as he spanked your cheeks a couple of times, leaving a dark imprint on both. You moaned and shoved your face into your pillows, you could feel your juices start to spill down your leg.

“Please, please, fuck me, Chanie.” You wiggled your hips, trying to entice him.

He grabbed his cock and rubbed your clit with it, “Yeah? You want my cock, baby?” He pressed it against your cunt, pushing a bit in, but it wasn’t enough, “Beg for it, love.”

You whined, your skin was on fire, and your legs trembled with need, “please, daddy, I’ve been a good girl, please, please, I need your cock, plea...” You screamed.

Chan shoved himself with a single thrust. Throwing his head back and grabbing your hips tightly, he didn’t give you any time to get used to. “Shit, you are so fucking tight.” His pelvis banged the tender skin of your ass, his balls slapping your clit, and his cock hitting against your cervix. His rhythm was too much, but you wouldn’t dare escape it.

He leaned himself into you, put his hand right beside your head. He could see how red your face was, the way your mouth let out at sins and how tears ran down your face. And he was loving every single second of it. “Who is making you feel this good, baby?”

You couldn't even answer, gibberish and moans came out of you, but that wasn’t enough for you. He changed the angle of his thrusts, hitting a sensitive spot inside you, making you scream, his hand went right to your clit, rubbing it in circles, “Answer me. Who?” You tried once again, but nothing clear came out.

Tired of this, Chan straightens himself, taking you with him. Your back against his chest, his hand choking your neck while his thrust got even quicker, his mouth right next to your ear. “I know you are nothing but a dumb slut, but I’m talking to you, and I expect an answer. Now.” Thrust. “Tell me.” Thrust. “Who’s fucking you this good?”. He bit you, marking you.

“You, Chan!” Your thighs burned and you were so close, your juices now ran down his balls, and you felt like passing out. He pushed you to the bed, pressing himself against your back.

“This pussy is mine, you hear me? No one else can have it.” His thrusts were becoming quicker, shorter and desperate, he was also close. “Only I get to fuck it, you are my whore, no one else’s.” Thrust. “Don’t you dare forget that.”

Nonsense and his name kept coming out of you like a prayer, everything building up, until the tight knot in your stomach finally snapped, juices squirting everywhere. He wasn’t there yet, so he kept going, overstimulating you, sending your nerves into overdrive.

“Just a bit more, Babygirl, hold on, yes, you are such a good girl, goddamn how much I love fucking you. Oh god!” And like that, you felt his warmth filling you up, making you cum once again. Slowly, he pulls his cock out, his seed spilling out of you and into your sheets. Your legs finally give in, and you fall flat out into the mattress.

Your brain is somewhere else, trying to come back down, and Chan is right next to you. His left arm is in his face, he licks his lips in dehydration, his chest falls up and down quickly and his right hand holds tightly onto your thigh, trying to ground himself.

And just as fast as Chan comes, he goes. He straightens himself, sitting down at the edge of the bed, he’s quiet and distant, looking for his clothes. Not once does the turn to look at you. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You whisper, laying on your side, facing away from him.

“Good.” He pulls his pants up, and his shirt next.

As he’s about to make his great escape, all reason flies out of your head.

“Hey, Chris?”

“Yes?”

“What are we?”

You wait a few seconds, but nothing comes of his mouth, you have an answer.

“Yeah, I knew it. Goodbye, Chris.”

He doesn’t dare anything else, so he leaves.

Everything had changed in that second, and you both know it.

_________________

It had been weeks since that night. All messages had gone unanswered. You were no longer lying in bed wondering if you should do it, you didn't. It was now Chan who tried to reach out.

“Hey, you up?”

“Hey, umm I don’t know if you are busy, but call me when you can. Or text me.”

“Hey, baby haven’t seen you in a while. Text me. Please.”

“Hey, did you change your number, and I forgot to save it or...”

“Hey, I went to that café you like so much, you are right, it’s really good, we should go once you are not so busy. Text me.”

“Hey, did I do something? Are you mad at me? Cause if I did, please let’s talk it out.”

“Hey, listen, I don’t want to lose you over something so stupid. Call me. Please.”

You can’t lose something you never had; you think. Work and friends kept you busy enough so you didn’t think about him in the day, nights were much more complicated, and there were days you were tempted to go back, longing for him, for his touch and his warmth, but you knew it would only make you feel worse.

Han was the best friend in the world, taking you out and making you break out of your shell little by little, some days it was a party, others it was just the two of you. Some days you felt like you were at the top of the world, whereas others you could only weep in his arms until you passed out from the pain.

_________________

You looked at yourself in the mirror. Makeup and hair done, high heels and heavy earrings, and even though you were trying to erase that fact from your head, his favourite dress on. Han had chosen it for you, and you couldn’t tell him why you had avoided that specific piece of clothing.

“You ready, sweetie?” He peeked into the room. You nodded, not sure of it.

_________________

Music was blasting out and bright coloured lights covered the entire place. The drink in your hand had served its purpose, you were drunk. In the middle of the dance floor, Han has his hands on your waist, keeping you close while you dance. He whispers sweet things in your ear, while you giggle. It wasn’t something new, this scene had occurred on past occasions, even escalating, but Han and you never dug too deep into it, kisses and casual affairs had once been part of your friendship, and you both were comfortable with that.

He turned you around, looking into your eyes, he placed a small kiss on your forehead, next on the tip of your nose, and your lips. A simple peck. You put your hands around his neck, swaying your hips, throwing your head back, enjoying the moment.

“What you thinking about, pretty?” He whispered against your lips.

“Nothing in particular.” You whisper back.

He pulls you closer, your head against his neck, and his lips leave small kisses on yours. You feel at ease.

Until you open your eyes.

And there he is.

A drink in his hand, he’s looking at you. His eyes burned holes into Jisung’s back. All air escapes your lungs.

“Ji, he’s, he’s here.” You whisper-yelled, your pulse going up.

“What? Chan? Are you sure?”

“Jisung, he’s here.” Your tongue twists and your fists tighten around his clothes, “He’s here, I don’t know what to do, I, I, I’m not ready.”

“Okay, calm down, I’m getting you out of here.” He grabs your hand, quick to push his way through the crowd. You make it out of the place, and the cold air hits you, helping regain your breath. “Okay, give me a second, I’m getting the car, wait here.” You try to protest, but he’s gone before you can.

You stand there, shivering, praying he doesn’t find you, but you smell his cologne before you can even see him.

“I thought you and Jisung were only friends.” His tone is harsh, making you flinch, “Is he the reason you’ve been ignoring me?”

“We are just friends.”

“Friends don’t kiss like that.”

“Yeah? Then what the hell were we doing, Chan? Because we sure as hell were not dating.” Your turned to him.

“Why haven't you answered my texts?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“With him?” Venom spits out of his mouth, he’s way past furious. You know he’s jealous, but that throws you off.

“No, Chan. I have a life out of our little flings, and you know it.”

“So, you are too busy to answer me, but aren’t too busy to come here and throw yourself into Jisung?”

Okay. You are done.

“What do you want me to say, Chan? You have no right to come here and demand an answer. You are not my boyfriend. You and me, we are nothing.”

“That’s a damn lie and you know it.”

“Do I? What are we? Because you made it quite clear, you like me Chan, but you don’t love me.”

“The fact that I don’t like labels, doesn’t...”

“Oh, cry me a fucking river, Christopher. You don’t want me, but you also don’t want anyone else to have me. You are so fucking cruel.” You cried, tired of everything, of him, “I need to move on, I need it. Please, let me go.”

Han's car horn ranged loudly, arriving just in time to save you. “I’ve gotta go. Goodbye, Chris.” Same words as that night, the night he lost you. They ran on Chan’s ears.

He grabbed your hand, tightly, not wanting you to leave, “please, please let’s talk, I don’t want this to end.” Small droplets came out of his eyes, startling you, but you stood your ground.

“Chan, let me go please.” You tugged.

“I don’t want to.” He pulled.

“Don’t make it even harder, please, my heart can’t take it anymore.” You whispered.

“Give me a chance, please. I’m begging you.

“No, Chan. I already know how this will end, and I can’t take it.”

He shook his head, “please.”

...

“Can you promise you will be my boyfriend?” Plain and simple.

“What?” His eyes widened.

“Can you promise to give us a title? No more casual sex? Will you make it official?”

You wait a few seconds, but nothing comes of his mouth, you have an answer.

“Yeah, I knew it. Goodbye, Chris.”

Everything had ended in that second, and you both know it.

#bang chan x reader #bang chan fanfic #bang chan #bang chan angst #bang chan smut #stray kids bang chan #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids #stray kids angst

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alexisomnias · 1 year ago

Text

— "DOVES SING JUST LIKE YOU" . . .

⤷ how they love your voice

featuring the OVERBLOT BOYS

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

he listens to your voice while studying, while sometimes its a distraction, he loves listening to you ramble while working. Too some its listening to music, but too him its listening to you. You're such a guiding voice for him and he can't help but want to cloud his head with you instead of the equations being put down. Sometimes even just the sound of your breath is sufficient to help him work more steadily. Perhaps its the overlooking hope to impress that is an encouragement, either way he's not hanging up the phone anytime soon! Nor is he EVER going to admit the affect your voice has on him!

"what do you mean, "why do you call me when your studying?" can I not worry about my dears day? In peace...!"

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

he listens to your voice before going to bed, as obvious as it is. He doesn't like having recordings of it, he'd much rather hear your voice in person. No matter how loud or soft it is he can fall asleep easily, so speak all you want, yap away he'd still sleep. Either way its a clearing of his head, and a purify of his dreams. He adores falling asleep to the sound of your voice, and if it has to be over call you better not hang up... He's also a fan of your breath, the sound of your breath relaxes him. He loves listening to yours voice! So never stop talking hm? you'd never annoy him even if you might think so. your his relaxant.

"don't shut up, keep talking away as you normally do."

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

he's SO embarrassed about how much he adores listening to you speak. He keeps all your voicemails to keep and listen to while he works on paperwork. The tweels tease him far too much, but even then he'd never delete them. Don't tell anyone else either, but he falls asleep to them too. Voice messages are highly encouraged, he will save them! He may never bring it up other then in smooth talking and flirting, but oh the effect your voice has on him... is this how the land dweller felt when hearing the mermaid princesses voice? He's enchanted every time you speak... sometimes he'll even purposely call you when he knows you won't answer just to hear your voice message left after the tone. UGH! The effect you have is so unfair!

"89 saved voicemails..? what about them? as a business owner its... important to hold every detail said as a reminder!"

JAMIL VIPER

Jamil will call you while he works. The sound of your voice and the knowing your presence is on the other end of the device motivates him to do whatever he's doing. Sometimes he'll invite you over, but he adores being on call too. Ramble away, please, he loves listening. He's a good listener, he swears. So please, yap away, he'll lovingly listen to it all. After all he adores listening to your voice. Don't tell him I told you, but he ADORES it when you whisper in his ear... just a thing that gets him flustered in ways nothing else could. He'll brush it off, but know he'll be replaying whatever you said for the rest of the 24 hour period."Would you mind repeating yourself? I think your voice is nice to listen to while cooking."

VIL SCHOENHEIT

vil adores talking to you during routine. He'll call you in the morning, and night if your unable to stay over. Its apart of his everyday now, for you to be the first voice he hears and the last he hears that day. He wouldn't have it any other way though. He particularly adores hearing you ramble, or talk about whatever happened to you that day during makeup or skincare. Its on facetime or in person, he'll listen like your the only sound around. Conversation with you is always a highlight and he adores every word you say. Vil is also the type to hold onto voicemails if he can, he just likes hearing you speak.

"so how was your day? be sure to include every detail, I want to hear all about it."

IDIA SHROUD

idia is the type to spam call you into vc. bros desperate. the first time he heard your voice he short circuited, and oh dear now is he getting thrown into the fantasies of falling asleep on call like the normies?! ARGH WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO HIM!? this is unfair! he shouldn't be thinking about how silky,,, and nice,,, and amazing your voice sounds. get out of his head!! your voice is nice okay?! just get in the vc! Don't leave him waiting like a fool, like a desperate blundering fool!

"ah, y..your voice?! its not bad don't worry. no please don't mute! i'm not being sarcastic i swear!!"

MALLEUS DRACONIA

malleus loves listening to you ramble. every word you say he holds dear, and sometimes he gets needy to hear it he'll even come all the way from his dorm to yours just to hear you talk! he's not a fan of phone calls, it doesn't feel as genuine as in person. He fucking adores listening to you, no matter what the hell your talking about. He'll just nod his head no matter, he's listening sure, but your voice lulls him into a trance he never wants to be pulled out of. Keeping singing him a lullaby with your wonderful voice! he loves listening to you, and if you love listening to him then oh dear the conversations would never end.

"I love hearing what you have to contribute, its very insightful. So please, what about that topic again?"

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil shoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #jamil viper #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia #suns pencil.

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911lonestar911imagines · 6 months ago

Text

..Save me- Possessive Evan Buckley x Reader Smut

Summary: After a close run in and getting robbed Possessive! Evan Buckley is here to help

Warnings: Robbery, Heavy Smut, Degradation, rough sex, sir/captain kink, slight mommy kink, daddy kink

A/n: not proofread or edited, it was made at 4am before work :D

You and Evan hadn't been together long, but Evan knew something was different with you, he was more possessive, protective, territorial, and you never complained. You were an only child, and grew up only knowing a story about a deadbeat father who left whenever he found out about your mother's pregnancy, so if someone wanted to protect you and treasure you, who were you to stop them?

The day went smoothly, you both woke up, had great morning sex, and then went to work, your station as a pediatric doctor at the hospital, and his station at the firehouse. You visited him and the team on your break, and now you both just waited until you were both back home. As you locked your car and made your way towards your apartment you got the overwhelming sense of danger, even as you kept glancing around, never seeing anybody or anything, you still couldn't shake the feeling. As you unlocked your phone, you called Evan, before being slammed face first into the wall, feeling something almost like a gun, press against your lower back "E-Evan! Help me!" You screamed loudly, hoping really anybody would hear, it was a little past two thirty in the morning, and your apartment was mainly filled with older couples, and families with young babies, so somebody had to hear right?

Evan was finishing up checking up on a young boy they had rescued from an apartment balcony, whenever he got the call from Y/n. He wasn't sure exactly what she was saying because of the muffled moving like she was moving her phone around against her clothing, before he felt his heart drop and felt like he was going to puke all at once as he heard your scream pierce through the phone speaker. Evan wasn't even thinking at that point, sprinting past Hen, Bobby, and Eddie before he ever knew he was moving.

You screamed out as you finally broke away from whoever was holding you captive, taking off in a sprint down the hallway, you wanted to go to the safety of your home, but you didn't wanna risk the creep getting into your apartment. As you debated your options you noticed your phone was gone, no longer in your hand, no longer having a line to Evan, to safety, to the person who protected you no matter what. You sobbed, trying to pick your pace up as you turned the corner to run down the service stairs, a quick escape, screaming whenever you collided with a body, being held tightly. Your chest hurt from screaming for help and sobbing, you wanted to wake up, next to your boyfriend, ready to start another day. You felt yourself be pulled towards your apartment before seeing someone dash around the corner "Motherfucker!" You heard Evan yell, his voice echoing off of the walls "See if I don't find you myself!" His voice boomed, you fell against the wall, sliding down the wall as you cried, holding your body tightly, only now taking in you didn't have anything in your pockets anymore. No wallet, phone, keys, or your purse, you were robbed.

Evan froze, deciding on chasing after the guy, or staying with you, he quickly made up his mind as he rushed to your side, his shaky hands cupping your face "H-Hey, hey I've got you, y/n I've got you" He whispered holding you close to his chest, basically pulling you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you as he held you in a hug "Nobody can get you, I've got you" he whispered slowly standing up, lifting you up like you were a pebble on the ground "Come on" He whispered, you were too shaken up to actually process where you were going, but Evan was confident as he sat you in the passenger seat. "I know..I know" He whispered as you held onto his shirt tighter, slowly he pulled your hands away "We're going to my place...I've gotta get in though" He whispered before handing you the keys motioning for you to lock it as he walked around the jeep. You both knew you lived in a somewhat safe neighborhood, but you felt safer with them locked. Evan got in, buckling in the both of you in, before heading towards his apartment.

The entire drive he was lost in thought, seeing you so shaken up in his passenger seat reminded him of Maddie, sitting there after Doug, his thoughts were cut short by a gentle, shaky hand resting on the bend of his elbow, as he stopped in the apartment parking lot. As he looked over he was met with your soft delicate gaze, fixed on his lost one "You saved me, Evan.." You whispered, he shook his head resting a hand over yours "I was doing what was right..because I love you" He whispered.

It took a bit, but Evan had a dinner made, you showered, and now both of you sat on his bed watching a random tv show you found playing, You sighed looking at him as he traced his fingertips up and down your stomach "I'm gonna talk to Athena tomorrow about filing a police report.." You whispered, Evan hummed in agreement, you ran your fingers through his hair, smiling softly as his hums continued. You moved your hand lower starting to massage the back of his neck, giggling as his hums turned into groans of relaxation and pleasure. As you dug your fingers deeper, his groans grew louder, before eventually he mistakenly let a moan slip through. You both looked at each other in shock, Your giggles growing louder before Evan rolled to hover over you, immeidetly shutting you up. "Why is it...That it's funny when I moan..but whenever I laugh about making you scream in the mornings before work..I'm in the doghouse?" He teased, playfully giving you a pouty face "Yea yea" You groaned, laying back on the bed, watching Evan slowly stalk down your body until he was mouth level with your panty hemline, you could feel his breaths he was so close.

"Evan.." You whispered lowly, you could see as he held back as groan, instead biting down on your hip bone "Easy baby boy" You whispered, you could see his eyes snap towards yours "Uh uh, you were top this morning, plus, you had a hard night" He said as he grabbed your chin tightly, you looked at him through your eyelashes as he kissed you deeply. "I'm gonna make you feel so good" He whispered grinding against you, you didn't care how many times he fucked you, his size always shocked you, how could someone be so perfectly hung? Just thick enough and long enough to hit every spot. "Please Sir" You begged arching your back, Evan had to hold back his own moan, between your little 'yes sirs' and the way your tits fell perfectly out of his work button up. "Don't worry, I'm gonna take care of you" He whispered "Gotta get me nice and ready though, baby girl" He whispered pulling his sleep pants down lower, his cock springing up halfway hard "f-fuck" You whispered, all of a sudden you were seeing his naked for the first time again, taking his cock in your mouth for the first time "You've got this, baby girl...You've taken it before so well. you're my good girl" He whispered kissing your forehead gently as you slowly crawled to the end of the bed, he could feel himself growing more possessive, how dare someone else touch you? You brought him out of it as your warm mouth wrapped around him, his hand flying to the back of your head, and his legs spreading wider "Fuck" He grunted leaning back taking in the sight.

You were laid in front of him, ass up, legs spread, tits hanging out of his shirt, as your mouth was stretched around his cock, spit slowly pooling from your lips, dripping down to the very point of your hardened nipples. As his mind wondered it went back to being possessive, How dare someone else touch what's his? Try to hurt what's his?

You noticed Evan was lost behind his eyes as you swallowed around him, about to stop before a loud growl errupted from his chest, his hips bucking into your mouth, his cock sliding down the back of your throat. You relaxed it as you focused on his words that were muttered angrily under his breath

"....Touching what's mine"

"She's mine"

"Fuck my good slut"

"Even knows she's mine"

You gulped as he lifted your mouth off of him, you made eye contact with his possessive almost crazy stare "Who are you?" He whispered, the growl vanishing, his tone not matching his eyes, making him seem even more crazy "I'm yours" You responded just as softly, panting softly as you cupped his cheek, he never moved an inch, just letting out a huff "Who. are. you." He growled, you repositioned yourself over his lap, grinding against his cock, desperate to feel anything "I'm yours! I'm Evan Buckley's!" You screamed out as he held your hips against his as he grinded against you, hitting your clit almost perfectly "What else." He snapped, halting his movements almost as fast as he started "Just as loud, slut" He growled loudly "nobody can care for me like you, Evan! Nobody can fuck me, love me, or please me like you do, Evan Buckley! I'm yours" You panted as he squeezed your nipple between his finger tips "And nobody does it like you, baby" he whispered in your ear before flipping you onto your back, holding your hands above your hand "You want fucked? Want me to fuck you so hard with my cock you forget where you are?" He panted in your ear, you whined loudly spreading your legs, Evan just moved his knees to hold them as far open as you possibly could. You never experianced Evan like this, yea he's been a heavy dominant in bed, but never possessive dominant.

You almost screamed as Evan ripped your underwear off, biting his lip as he stared at your pussy, watching it slowly pool more wetness out, already soaking wet from your panties. "What baby? Where do you want my cock?" He panted in your ear, reaching under your pillow to use the silk ties you bought for his house a couple weeks ago, with your hands tied he smirked leaning up to sit on his knees "Please Sir! I want your cock, Please Evan!" You whined before moving your tied hands down to run your fingers through your folds spreading your wetness around to tease him "I want..your big cock..right here..please Captain Buckley" You whispered biting your lip teasingly as you started to push a finger into yourself slowly, you knew Evan always wanted to have the authority of captain, but he'd never take Bobby's place, and he'd never leave the 118, so Captain Buckley was a strong one for him. You could almost see his cock twitch "Don't you dare touch what's fucking mine" he growled before shoving himself fully into your pussy, bottoming out and kissing you deeply as you cried out around his lips as his cock stretched it's way through you.

"Fuck yes!" You squealed, allowing Evan to take his chance to kiss you deeply, shoving his tongue through your lips, exploring every part of your mouth, his cock never slowing it's brutal pace. "Nobody can touch what's mine" Evan growled taking your nipple into his mouth sucking and biting as you arched your back "Yes! Yes!" You started to chant before Evan clasped a hand over your mouth "Change of plans. You're mine tonight, and I don't wanna hear a peep until you're making a mess screaming my name" He growled, his voice was almost enough to have you creaming around him, but you held strong. You could feel the bed moving and the headboard hitting the wall as Evan fucked your pussy mericiless "D-Daddy!" You cried out as you came around his cock for the first time, Evan freezing before looking at you with the most evil smile.

He carried you to the kitchen, laying you over his kitchen island before resuming his brutal pace "Say it again" He grunted as he watched his cock disappear inside of you "I said say it again!" He demanded louder, you cried out as you felt his finger slide inside of you next to his cock "Fuck Daddy! It's too much!" You cried out as he found a steady pace, removing his finger pushing it into your mouth, moaning as your tongue circled his finger, cleaning any of your juices off of it. "Yea. My good fuckin wife. Taking my cock in the kitchen like a whore desperate to please her husband" He growled, you never knew Evan was the roleplay in bed type, but you couldn't lie, imaging you both married, him bending you over the table after a long day at work and having his way with his wife was orgasm inducing. "J-Just wanna make daddy feel good after work!" You moaned grinding against him, he just growled moving you both to the couch, positioning you on the arm rest so his cock was buried deeper inside of you.

"Don't worry, I'll make mommy feel good too" He growled as he sped up his pace, you gasped and moaned loudly feeling his warm cum pool inside of you, he slowly pulled out, using his thumb to push back in any cum that tried to leak out of your swollen pussy. You had no time to rest before Evan's tongue swiped over your clit "E-Evan too much!" You whimpered, already overstimulated by both of your orgasms and from how deep his cock was buried inside of you. He just growled against your clit, causing a vibration across your pussy "Daddy!" You whined trying to close your legs, but Evan lifted his head "You can either Squirt around my cock or my mouth." He said lowly, almost in a cold tone, like you didn't have a choice You knew you did though, you knew your safeword would stop everything but you liked this side of Evan. "Mouth it is" He snapped before sucking your clit into his mouth, you cried out again, chanting nothing but a song of 'Evan's and 'daddy's. Evan's tongue and mouth abused your clit as you squirmed on the couch. Evan never let up on his abuse until you were squirting around his tongue and into his mouth.

You screamed out as you soaked his face, riding his tongue desperately to ride out your high, once you got to the point, you pushed his head away whimpering, your legs shaking in his hands. "Such a bad..bad girl for me..now look at my couch.." He whispered motioning to the wet splatters coating the arm rest "Guess you'll just have to make it up to daddy" He whispered looking back down to his raging hard on, already painfully turned on by how desperate you looked. "Yes sir.." You whispered smirking...

Part two?

#911 abc #911 smut #911 show #evan buckley #buck 911 #bi buck #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley x you #evan buckley smut #buck smut

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zademeadows21 · 2 months ago

Text

Yandere Billionaire x Reader

You were walking in the night at the alleyway. Nothings gonna happen... or so you thought?

Warning: Obsessed, Mentions of Blood, Kidnapping, Obsession at first sight, Delusional Stalker. Don't know what to add more...

>It's my first writing and English is not my native language. Hope you like it!.

___________________________________________________________

"Tap-Tap". The sound of your footsteps in the middle of the night echoed in the alleyway you were walking into. You were munching the chocolate you bought in the nearest grocery shop, that's the reason you're outside in the middle of the night. Well yk all about "Don't go outside at night especially alone because you're a GIRL'', well you thought nothing happens when you break this rule once in life and besides it seems like no one's here in this alleyway or so you thought....

''A-Ah''. You stopped on your tracks. Seems like you're not alone and the person also seems like groaning.... from pain? Well it would be rude if you don't check what's going on, besides your curiosity need to be fed.

You slowly approached the voice you thought came from your right side and you saw that person, the person is male, from his clothes he seems like rich and it seems like he's bleeding from stomach. How he got stabbed?

You slowly kneeled down and started observing his stomach. It seems like the wound is deep and it doesn't gonna stop soon. He seems like he's gonna lose his conscious now and then. No, you can't let that happen...

You put your hand on his hand which is holding the wound and pressed it gently to stop some bleeding. You got your phone and immediately called the ambulance and told them your address. Hope they come soon...

The person slowly acknowledged your presence when you put your hand in his. The pain he was feeling from earlier seems like faded away when you put your hand on top of his. You seemed like and angel that came to save him. His Angel...

''Sir, hold on please, the ambulance gonna come soon" you tell the man now that was looking at you like a... lovesick puppy? The man was not paying attention to your words, but he was listening to your honey voice, oh how he wants to listen to this voice all day and night... how he wants her soft hands to touch him. Feels like a heaven... His Paradise...

"What's your name?" The man asked you in a near unconscious state. He don't wanna be unconscious, no he CAN'T be, not when your holding his hands and looking at him like that. So worried...Worried just for a stranger... Indeed an Angel...

You looked at man confused. Why he wants to know your name? Well you thought he just want to know the person who helping him."Y/N" you answered. "And you sir?". The man was going to answer this question, but...

The ambulance has come and the nurses was horrified to see him. How Weird... They hurriedly started to get him ready to go to hospital. With ambulance you also called police because it can be also robbery case too, you thought.

The police started questoning you like do you know this man? Who you are to him? Do yk anything that happened?. After all this they let you go to your house and tell you they'll inform if anything new. Well you did what they told. But sleep will not come in your mind after this incident...

_________________Time skip: week

The man who you saved in the alleyway was in your house. You don't know how he get there. You just now came from your part time job and just wanted to relax. Well there's no-called guests in your house.

"My name's Carl. The CEO of the richest and most successful company of the world. And I think you're wondering why I am here right?'' he asked while coming closer, nearly trapping you to the wall.

Your jaw dropped. The CEO of the richest company? In the world? What he wants from me? Many questions was running in your head that you didn't even realize that you were trapped between the wall and him.

''I'm here to take you with me, where you belong... in the paradise that I've created for you, because MY ANGEL deserves the BEST'' he said while easily lifting you up in a bridal style and starts walking to the door.

You started wiggling in his arms but it seems like your wiggles are like a little kitten wiggling in his arms to him. How CUTE...

"Aww, MY ANGEL is so CUTE. Don't worry, we're gonna live in our paradise TOGETHER, you don't have to lift a finger for anything, ANYTHING you want I'll give it to you, because you are MINE and I am YOURS for FOREVER..." he said while smiling to himself despite the tears started to run though your cheeks.

He's thinking it's happy tears. Aww, your crying because you're happy with HIM. Such a cutie you are... an ANGEL, HIS ANGEL.

He knows that he's gonna pamper you forever, like a little princess, you just need to let him love you and love him too. He knows that soon you're gonna love him, because how can't an ANGEL love her care taker? Her WORSHIPPER?

____________________________________________________________

#yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere ceo #yandere male #yandere obsession #yandere oneshot #yandere post #yandere boy

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spidybaby · 1 month ago

Note

Ladyyyy✨ You can't just leave us like that after that amazing angst😭😭😭 can you do a part 2, pls? Like what happens after that? How does he react? What about Aurora and his family? Can we see Reader moving on? They end up being strangers? Reader can't forgive that😭😭😭

Take care of yourself, hope you have a great day!🌻🫶🏻

Seat 332 | Part Two

Summary: The time apart and the difference between his past life and his present makes Gavi realize that he lost.

Warnings: cursing.

Part one

That was your seat. He knows it, his family knows it, and even his friends. Why was she in your seat?

Pablo's eyes move from you and to Antonella and back to you. He even stopped clapping. You are looking at the back of Antonella's head.

He asked Aurora to keep that seat empty in case you came to see him. Anto was waving at him with a smile on her face.

"Venga Gavi!" Balde says, smiling at him at hugging him. "Vamoooos!" He yells.

Gavi is being moved by Cubarsi and Balde, who grab his arms and pull him to the chanting group of fans.

He turns for a few seconds, smiling at the feeling of being back. Soon, that's overturned by the feeling of worry when he doesn't see you standing at the entrance of the palco.

"Wait, guys." He tries to free himself. "Wait, I need to go."

He pulls stronger and free himself. He walks quickly to the entrance, but in the way he finds Iñigo's arms.

"Venga, Chaval!" Iñigo smiles as he grabs Gavi in his arms. He's strong enough to carry Gavi back into the chanting group.

"Madridista el que no salte." They all yell in catalan, jumping and being happy.

Gavi gives up, he won't be able to free himself from his friends. He will call you as soon as he's done with it.

The celebration goes on for a few minutes. The social media team asks for him to greet his family and friends on the field for content on his docuseries on the new barca app.

He can't help but miss you during that greeting. You were a complementary piece on his recovery. You were the missing piece now.

He's awkward when he's with Anto. If someone had told him that he would be giving empty kisses to the girl he promised himself to be different. He wouldn't have believed it.

Once he is back in the dressing room, he takes the pictures the social media girl asks for. He showers quickly and runs to where his family is waiting for him.

"I just need to make a call, go on, and go back to my place." He says to his parents. "Here's the key. Just give me a couple minutes."

"I'll wait with you." Antonella says.

"No!" Lift his head up. "I mean, you don't have to wait. Help me with everything at home, please." He smiles.

She nods, going back to his parents and telling them that she will help them at home while Aurora stays with Gavi.

"Me cago en la puta." He says, not finding his phone.

"Pablo, what are you doing?" Aurora asks, watching him being all desperate.

He throws his toiletry bag on the seat of his car. He's stressed. "Give me your phone." He orders.

Aurora shakes her head no. Crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Aurora, I'm not playing." He says. "Give me the damn phone."

"What for?" She asks, mad at his brother's attitude. "Who's that important for you to be acting this way?"

"I need to call Y/n." He whines. "Please."

Aurora sighs. "Pablo, let's go home. Antonella and everybody else is waiting."

"Qué me importa un cajaro, Aurora." He yells. "I need to call her."

Aurora knows that if he does that, then it will become a big problem. Pablo will need to explain why he was with Antonella and you at the same time.

"Why don't you calm down and call her tomorrow?" She asks. "She's mad, and she won't answer like that."

He knows that you won't answer him in that state, but he also wants to know you are okay. He needs to explain to you that he did save the seat for you.

That's your seat.

Antonella didn't have any business seating there.

"Fine." He says, getting in the car.

Even if he wants to, his mind is full of worry about you. He can't focus on the conversations without disassociate after a few words.

Aurora excused him, saying it was just him being tired and that he had run out of battery after waiting for this game for so long.

The night wasn't easy. Aurora took his phone and asked him to wait. He needs to respect the fact that Antonella was in the house.

He asked Antonella to join Aurora in her room for the night. He was tired and didn't feel like talking or being with anyone.

He looked over at the clock every five minutes. The hours felt eternal. Why can't the time go faster?

You usually wake up at seven to go to the club and play tennis. He wants to call you before that. He tried to call you, and the first two calls went to voice mail.

The third time is a charm, he thinks, but it hit him with a message. He frowns. Did your phone die?

He googles what that message means because you had a voice recording for your voice mail. He sweats cold when he discovers that you blocked his number for calls and texts.

He wakes up, finding Aurora in the kitchen. "Hey, I need your phone." He says, not wanting to waste time.

"Pablo, what for?" She asks, still a little bit sleepy.

"Y/n is not answering my calls, I need to call her from your phone."

Aurora roll her eyes, she's tired of all this hit and run you two have. If it's not you complaining that Pablo is ghosting you, it's him complaining that you don't answer.

"No!" She says, passing away from him.

Pablo is quick and grabs his arm. "What do you mean no?"

She removes Gavi's arm. Looking at him like he's asking something crazy. "Pablo, I'm done with this situation. You tell me that you want to be with Antonella, but then you tell me that you need to contact Y/n. What are you playing, Gavi?"

She's not wrong, Gavi told her that he's done with Y/n, ask Aurora to help him with Antonella. Then he goes and says he needs you and that he needs to help her reconnect with you.

"I'm done with this stupid situation you got yourself into." She says. "If you want to call Y/n, then find other ways, but my phone is not up for use."

Pablo is left alone in the kitchen. The question that Aurora made him is still ringing in his head.

"What game are you playing, Gavi?"

fcbarcelona

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fcbarcelona Everybody stay calm, it's happening 😱

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aurorapaezg ❤️

antogmz 🥺❤️

gavixpedri tell me it's all a lie 😭😭😭

gavirafan06 @gavixpedri what's happening? 🤨

gavixpedri @gavirafan06 barca admin posted a video of gavi and this girl kissing 🙃

gavimylover so he's not y/n's boyfriend?

barcam3ssi10 I would have swear they were together 🤨 people on x were saying they saw them holding hand in Barcelona

Pedri Bienvenido hermano 💪🏻

randomuser1 I come to the comments and see his fans fighting over who's the girlfriend and who's the other girl 😭😭😭 why are we so unserious?

randomuser2 like fr who tf is hotter? That's the winner

- A month after Gavi's return -

fcbarcelona

Liked by antogmz, mario_rzs and 1,093,834 others

fcbarcelona Another day, another Gavi pic 📸

View all 2,274 comments

antogmz ❤️💪🏻

randomuser83 I wonder if she's the responsible one for him and his ex gf break up🤔

antoxgavi @randomuser83 she's not, that girl was Gavi's friend

ansucheesefan but Y/n follows her, so I don't think they are beefing if they follow each others

gavirafan06 he has the girlfriend glow up 🤩

antofan1 he definitely has that glow 🥺🥰

pedrimasiafan I think it's sweat 👀

randomuser1 why are his fans fighting in the comments over his love life again 😭😭😭 we are so unserious I can't

- Two months after Gavi's return -

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yourusername ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

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aurorapaezg I miss you so much 🥺❤️

camihdz Miss you 🙃

yourusername open the door 👀❤️

gavifan2 why don't you answer Aurora's comment?

aurorafan1 I miss you and Aurora 😔💔

mario_rzs send me the pics maybe?

yourusername sir, I don't know you 😔

aurorapaezfan why is she answering everybody's comment but Aurora's? 😭😭😭

- Three months after Gavi's return -

yourusername

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yourusername I'm working late, cause I have finals (send help)

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aurorabelen9 Te extraño, mi niña❤️ liked by author

aurorafan1 I can't 😭 she's the only Gavira that Y/n follows

gavimylover miss seeing y/n with the paez gavira family 😔💔

antoxgavi why did you unfollow Anto and Aurora? You just create drama by doing that

pedrixgavifan stop asking her about Gavi or his family 😒 if she's not friends with them, then it's her business liked by author

antoxgavi @pedrixgavifan well she used to post a ton with them and now she expects people to not care?

lamasiafan6 what college is she on? Cause why are the skeletons on the gym? 💀

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"Let's go play some tennis." You say to your friend Camila.

You two walk to the tennis field, preparing the balls and everything for the small match. You missed playing tennis.

Since you stopped having contact with Gavi, you started doing the activities you left behind. You only had time to play tennis early in the morning because he always came after training and you needed to be there for him.

You stopped going out with your friends because he was over at your house and you wanted to spend all night with him.

Then, with his injury, you became a big help to his parents. When they needed to go back to Sevilla, you took care of Pablo.

Only leaving his side to go to class or to study for your tests. You were there for him in every step of the way.

You can't really put the blame on Pablo. He was right, he never asked you to do all that.

He never asked you to stop going out.

He never asked you to stop playing your favorite sport.

He never asked you to play nurse Nancy and help him.

He never asked you to help him with his recovery exercise.

You did it all by heart.

And that was something you won't regret. You did it without looking for a reward or a prize. You did it because you loved him, and you prioritized him when he needed you the most.

You were slowly recovering your life. You didn't depend on anyone, you don't wait on others, you care about yourself and other but always putting you first.

You can't deny that the fact that your so called friends decided to take sides on the situation between Pablo and you, it hurted you.

You noticed that only Mario was your friend. He told you that he wasn't going to take sides and that he was there for you whenever you needed to.

You are grateful Camila never left you. She knew Pablo since school, but she was your friend. Even tho if Pablo comes to her, she wouldn't ignore it.

What hurt you the most was that Aurora lied to you. She could have told you the truth, even if that was going to hurt you.

You asked her, and she chose to act like nothing happened. She expected you to go to the dinner and see for yourself that he was with someone.

You didn't fight. You didn't argue. You just left her alone. She commented on your posts and answered your Insta stories.

You didn't even open her past messages. You made it silently clear that you weren't going to engage on anything that had to do with her.

Belen and Pablo sir were other story. They called you and asked you if you were okay because you didn't come to the game.

You explain to them that you and Pablo weren't together anymore and that you don't want his girlfriend to feel weird about your presence.

They told you that no matter if you and Pablo were together, you were welcome to come and visit them, to come for lunch, dinner, or any kind of meal you want.

Belen asked you if you were coming to see her, you did. When Gavi was training and Aurora was in Sevilla. You visit her, telling her that you will be one call away.

You miss them. They were the closest thing to a family. And you'll miss having them around, hearing their jokes, their company.

You can't change what Gavi did. Nor you want to do it. You just hate to lose so much as a consequence of him.

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You noticed Aurora send you a dm. You open it just because.

You close the app, leaving her on read. You want to answer her and make things they way they used to, but you hate liars, and she was one.

It took you a lot of mind and thinking to finally come around the idea of losing the life you thought you'll always have.

It was your fault for thinking that something with no label would end up in a fairy tale story with a happy ending.

"Hey, let's go get sushi. It's on me." You smile at Cami.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

"Do you want to see a movie?" Antonella asks Pablo.

They were coming back from a "date night" as she called. But to Gavi, it was more like another dinner he spent watching his phone and hearing about Antonella's friends.

"I want to see this movie that's on Netflix." She smiles. "It's called Bride Wars."

Pablo turns his head to her. He knows that movie, maybe a little too well.

"I mean, if you want." He shrugged, laying down on the couch.

Anto takes the opportunity and lays down with him. He moves a little, uncomfortable with the closeness.

He likes the movie, he can't even deny it. It's your favorite movie. You two would watch it a lot during his recovery.

You know the funny parts, you quote the dialogue and even once mentioned that you would throw him a party like the Bachelorette party they have.

"You don't alter the Vera Wang to fit you. You alter yourself to fit Vera." He says, chuckling at that part.

"Do you know the movie?" Antonella says, pausing it.

He nods. "I mean, it's a movie." He says like it's obvious.

"Oh, I know." She giggles. "But it's a girls movie."

He frowns, not understanding what she meant. "No, it's not." He scuffs. "Plus, it's funny because she was eating butter from all around the world."

"It's a romcom, Gavi." She says, obnoxious tone. "Romcoms are for girls. Just like fast and furious is for boys."

He rolls his eyes at her. Grabbing the remote and pressing play again. He is going to enjoy the rest of it.

Antonella knows she fucked up. When Gavi sees or she does something he doesn't like. He gives her the silent treatment.

That makes her nervous, because all she wants is for him to be fine and happy with her. "Do you want me to make dinner?" She asks.

Gavi doesn't answer, he keeps watching the movie. She waits a few minutes and asks again.

"I can make you a sandwich, would you like that?"

He sighs, looking at her. "Can you make me a grilled cheese?" He asks.

Antonella nods excited, she gets up and walks to the kitchen, ready to prepare his sandwich. If only she knew that it was because of him that he had asked that.

< "Pablo, please calm down." You say, trying to find a way of calming him down.

Pablo was having a panic attack from the pain he's feeling. Even if his surgery was two weeks ago, he made a bad move with his leg and provoked a strong pain.

"I don't want to feel this way anymore." He says, sobbing. "Make it stop." He yells.

You don't know what to do. Aurora and Belen were outside, and you don't know how to deal with this alone. You never had one nor did any close friend or family member, so you are lost.

"Pablito, mirame." You grab his wet cheeks. "Can you breathe with me?" You press a little more onto his cheeks to get his attention.

You began doing these breathing exercises. Counting for him to breathe and exhale. You do different rounds of this in order for him to calm down.

Once he's calmer, you grab his pain meds and pass him the water. "Drink this, vida." You say, grabbing the glass of water and grabbing the straw, placing it to his lips.

His puffy eyes and red cheeks make him look like a kid. He's trying not to cry again. The effects of the strong medicine were quick to ease the pain he was feeling.

"I'm sorry, Pablo." You say, leaving the glass back on the nightstand, combing his hair. "I don't know how to take your pain away." You confess. "But I'm here for you, and I won't leave you alone."

He grabs your hand, placing it against his hot cheek. You know it his way of saying thank you. He's not the best at expressing his emotions, and this little acts of love are for him a way of showing that he's thankful when words are not coming out.

You spend another moment combing his hair. You were quiet, listening to the sobs that he still makes from how hard he was crying.

You bring your intertwine hands to your mouth, leaving a kiss on his skin. He smiles a little. "Don't cry, mi amor." You say sweetly. It's like talking to a little child. "I'm going to bring you your favorite pasta. Your mom made it for you because she knows that with a little bit, you would feel good." You tell him.

He shakes his head no, the grip on your hand becomes stronger. He pouts while looking at you with those puppy eyes you can't say no to.

"Amor, you need your medicine." You explain to him. "I'll just grab us a plate of pasta, and I'll be back. Five minutes."

"I-" He tries to say, being interrupted by a sob. "I don't want pasta."

You smile at him. "Do you want me to make you a sandwich?" You ask, knowing that he has to take another dosis of medicine and that he needs to eat before doing so. "I can you make an amazing grilled cheese."

He looks at you with doubt, but after a moment, he agrees. Kissing your hand and letting it go. You promise that you will be as quick as possible.

You prepared two sandwiches, one for you and one for him. You side his food with some fruit and some juice. He loves juice.

You can say that you beat your own speed record because in no time you were back in the room with him.

"I got you your favorite juice, Pablito." You say, placing the tray in front of him. "And I just remembered that Bride Wars it's still available." You bop his nose, making him smile.

You take a look at his face, the way his eyes are shining, and the way he's calmer and relaxed, demeanor gives you peace.

"Mirame." You say, grabbing his cheeks and caressing his skin. "I know it's hard, amor. But I'm here for you in every step of the way." You kiss the top of his nose.

You sea next to him in bed, always keeping a distance because you were afraid of hurting you. You eat in silence because of the movie.

"Can you get me napkin or a piece of paper?" He asks, making you nod.

You get up and walk to the bathroom, grabbing some paper because it is quicker than going into the kitchen.

"You don't alter the Vera Wang to fit you." You say at the same time as the movie dialogue. "You alter yourself to fit Vera." You imitates the voice.

"What to boys learn in school?" He finishes the dialogue, smiling.

You pass him the paper, fixing a string of hair on the way. You feel better now that he is feeling no pain and is eating. >

He goes out of this trance when Antonella places the plates in front of him. The sandwich looks weird to say the least.

"I tried, okay." She says, giggling. "Don't judge me, try it."

He does it, he takes a bite of the sandwich. "I mean, it's something." He smiles at her.

He doesn't want to make her feel bad, so he eats it all. Drinking the disgusting so-called juice she did.

"I love spending time with you." She says, kissing his lips. "Love you."

He half smiles. "Thank you." He says, patting her head. "Let's keep watching, I love that part."

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

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"Do you want to try this?" You ask your cousin.

You two were having lunch with her. You love spending time with your family now that you are on vacations.

You came back to Sevilla, changing the routine a little bit. You used to stay in Barcelona because Gavi wanted you there.

And of course you chose to stay with him while everybody else was on vacations. You were waiting for him to come back from training.

You two finish your meals, happy that you got to spend time together and got to talk about all the things you needed to talk about.

You two walk back to your place, since you guys were neighbors it was funny to go everywhere together.

"Okay, see you later." You say, leaving your cousins at the door of the house.

You enter your home, lay on the couch and turn the TV on. You were too full to mind anything else.

After an hour and a quick nap, you hear the doorbell, you call your mom, telling her that you are opening the door. When you do, you find someone you didn't want to see.

"Aurora, hi." You say with a weird smile you face. "How are you?"

"I'm good, been better." She says. "I was worried about you." She confess.

You frown. "About me?" You ask. "Why?"

"Why?" She asks you back, looking at you like you just say something illogical. "Y/n, you don't answer my text, you don't answer my calls, you even unfollow me from social media." She says, naming all the things you stopped doing. "It's like I'm not even your friend anymore."

She has one hand on your arm, making the scene look a lot more dramatic than what it is. It feels like one of those simulations.

You look at her directly in the eyes. Trying to find out what she was asking was with concern or just because.

"Aurora," you say, grabbing her arm and moving it away from you. "You are not my friend."

She blinks a couple of times, confused about your reaction. She knows she was a little bit wrong by sticking to Pablo and Antonella, but she was his sister.

"What?" She asks, confused. "Y/n, that's not true. I'm your friend."

You shake your head lightly. You can't even believe that she thinks she's your friend after everything she did.

"I asked you if Pablo was seeing someone." You remind her. "And what did you do? You lie to me."

"Y/n, that's not -"

"That's not true?" You ask, scuffing. "Aurora, you knew he was seeing her. You knew Pablo had other intentions with her, and what did you do? You lied."

She shakes her head. "That's not what happened." She tries to explain.

"You knew I loved Pablo." You remind her. "When you asked me what my feelings were about your brother, I told you I loved him."

"Y/n, I -"

"You knew, and you chose to lie to me."

She sighs, "You have everything mixed."

"No." You say, stern tone. "I have my facts straight. The only thing I got mixed was that I thought you were my friend. You are not, so leave me alone!"

You close the door of your house without caring that you're literally closing the door on her face. She didn't care about you, and you don't care about her at all.

You want to open the door and ask her for forgiveness because you closed the door on her face, but you won't do it.

You have to remember that Aurora chose to lie to you. She could've been honest, you would've prefer that.

Instead, she knew Pablo didn't want you at the dinner. She knew Pablo had her over. She knew that girl was in his life.

You take a deep breath and walk to your room, wanting you to go back to sleep and forget that you have to deal with the broken pieces that he left.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

"What do you mean you can't keep seeing me?" Antonella yelled. "Pablo, what is wrong with you?"

"Nothing is wrong, Anto." She sighs, tired of her yelling.

"No, something got to be wrong." She says, angry. "Because we were fine a few days ago."

He scuffs. "You were fine, but we?"

"I can't, Pablo." She says, exasperated. "I want us to work, but you won't go past your old habits."

He shakes his head. "That why I'm telling you that I don't want to see you."

Antonella cursed at him. Grabbing her stuff and walking out of his room while slamming the door.

He's tired, very tired.

But he's free from that burden.

He took his free days and traveled to Sevilla to be done with whatever his relationship with Antonella was.

He feels better now that he's free to finally go look for you. He's ready to be with you, and he hopes that you understand that he was confused.

His parents sat him down and scolded him about what he did to you. He was raised in a different way.

His father had a long talk with him days after, about how it was not okay to play with the girls feelings.

< "If you ever become a dad, you would kill the guy who dared to treat your daughter they way you treaded Y/n. And that says a lot about you." >

That left Pablo with a bitter aftertaste. He never thinks about becoming a dad, but he knows that if that ever happens he would go to war for his kids.

And what can he expect? If a guy ever treats his daughter in that way, he can't even complain. He would be complaining over something he said nobody should mind about.

Mario invited him to a party, it was his annual vacation party. Gavi lost the last two because of games he had.

He showered and got dressed. His way of hiding from people outside of his circle is going with a bucket hat and some glasses.

He picked his phone from the nightstand and grabbed his keys, leaving to his friends house.

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You and your friends were pre gaming before going to Mario's party. You were so excited to finally be out and enjoying the time you lost.

But as your Abu says, even the saints cry over the lost time.

So, it's better to start to get it, then lose it by being all sad at home. And that's exactly what you friends will helped you about.

After about an hour or so, you find that it's time to go to the party. You check yourself in the mirror, detailing the things that needed it.

Your friend was the designated driver so you can drink and have fun. You are usually the designated one, but today is your day, so you don't worry about it.

When you got there, you went straight to Mario. He was an amazing friend and you love him and appreciate him with all your heart.

"I thought you weren't coming."

"When have I ever said no to a party?" You ask.

"Good point." He laughs. "Let's go take some shots." He grabs your hand and moves you with him inside the house.

You take not only one run but three. You grab a bottle of water, not wanting to get all bad before even enjoying for a little bit.

You walk over to your friend, she was talking with someone. You say hi and introduce yourself.

"This is Jaime." Your friend says. "He's my friend, and he's visiting Sevilla."

"That's amazing. Are you enjoying it?" You ask.

"Yes, don't get me wrong, I'm loving Sevilla, but Barcelona has its special thing."

"Oh, you are from Barcelona?" You ask excited. "I study college there."

You two make conversation around the fact that you two were living in Barcelona and you two go to college there.

"I'm going to go for a drink, but have so much fun and if you need anything we are going to be here." You smile at him.

You walk back into the house. You go to the bar table and grab something to drink now that your water is done.

You grab your favorite liquor and add some mixer. You turn back to the door, but you end throwing your drink all over someone.

"Joder, mi puta madre."

You lift your head, finding those puppy eyes. "Pablo," you say. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it."

He looks at you, surprised. He never thought he would find you at Mario's party. He tries to say something but his mouth is just open.

You want to laugh, he's dumb sometimes. You grab his arm, moving him to the side and take his glasses.

You don't even understand why you are acting this way. You should be hitting him with your heel or serving more into your cup and throwing it to his face.

But no.

You place the now dry glases back into his face. "Sorry, have a nice night." You say, leaving him there.

You don't care that he's there. You already made yourself to the idea that you two live in the same area, you have friends in common, you have a whole history together.

You aren't going to run. If he is uncomfortable, then there's the door. You already give enough care to him thar you ran out of it.

You go back to your friends with your almost to the half drink. You were going to have an amazing night with your friends, and that's all that matters.

After a few hours of you and your friends having all the fun. You danced with Mario, you danced with Javier and even danced with someone's dad who was at the party.

"I'll go to the bathroom." You say, smiling at your friends. "Don't move." You point at them.

You walk inside the house, find the bathroom, and go inside. You hear someone knocking on the door. You shrug, applying your lip oil and taking your time.

You open the door finding Gavi. He was waiting for you. "It's free now, calm down." You laugh.

You feel him grabbing your wrist. "Can we talk?"

You sigh, it really has to happen during a party?

You nod, pulling him to the front yard. There was almost no one there. It was barely any noise and people were minding their business.

You free yourself from his hold, looking at him and letting him talk. He's the one who wanted to talk, then he can do it.

"How are you?" He asks.

You roll your eyes. Was he even real?

"Pablo, go to the point." You say. "I'm not in for formalities, I'm good. Thank you."

"Okay, sorry." He lift his hands. "I want to tell you that I'm sorry that I didn't call after what happened at the game or before that game."

You stayed quiet and sp he did.

"Okay." You smile. "Thank you, now if this is all." You say, about to go away but he grabbed your arms.

"Y/n." He says, pouting. "I say I'm sorry."

"Okay?" You giggle. "I said thank you. Did you not hear me?"

He was confused.

Why didn't you care?

"I want to tell you that I let others' opinions got to me, I'm really sorry that I hurted you and told you all those things. I didn't lie. I do like you."

You smile, nodding.

"And I'm sorry that I ever put you in second place. I thought that with Antonella, I was going to get something that I never got. You are the only one for me. You are the only one who make me feel this way."

"I was not the only one, Pablo." You say. "You had other options, and you chose her before me, even tho you say I'm the only one."

You don't feel like being quiet and letting him think that it was only the side he saw the correct one, it was wrong.

"And I don't know what you want me to tell you. If you didn't find what you wanted to find and you are not happy, I'm sorry, but you are an adult, and your actions have consequences."

He blinks a few times, he's confused about why you are not understanding his point.

"I hope you find that one thing that you are looking for, I really do." You say.

You walk away from him, ready to move on with your life, but his grip on your wrist stops you.

"Y/n, I left Antonella."

You frown. "I'm sorry that it didn't work." You say.

"No, Y/n!" He says this time louder. "I'm telling you thar I left her. We can now be together."

You look at him, you focus on his features. The bushy eyebrow, he upper dimple, his big eyes, that green undertone.

You have to do something. You grab his cheeks, your lips finding his. His hands find your waist, he grips your skin.

You grab his hands, moving them away from you. With this you earn a confused look, he's not understanding what is going on.

You don't waste time and separate from him.

Your eyes found his.

You know what you have to say.

"I'm sorry, but I had to do that." You say.

"What?" He asks, confused. "Why?"

"I needed to confirm that I don't feel anything."

Pablo can't even digest your words. Why would you even do that when he just told you that he wants to be with you?

What did you even mean when you say you don't feel the same way about him? Is this a joke?

"You don't?"

You shake your head no, internally screaming from happiness that the war is finally over.

"Pablo, you got yourself a girl whose only purpose was to be your girlfriend when I was there basically begging for you to give it to me, and now you tell me that it didn't work and let's just forget and move on?" You ask.

"I didn't want to lose you if something came out wrong." He whines.

"Gavi, we had so many misunderstandings. So many moments where you left my house mad or I left yours in a fury. Moments were we both question if what we had was worth it." You remind him. "And none of that ever made me leave. Because I was sure that I loved you, but you come here and told me that you needed someone else to be sure that you love me?" You scuff. "Pablo, that's not love."

"But, I explained everything to you." He says. "I told you I left whatever I had with her and that I regret ever treating you the way I did."

Gavi shakes his head, he's not understanding why anything is going the way he ever imagined it.

Why are you being so difficult?

"Okay." You smile, shrugging.

"Y/n, que he dejado a Anto." He repeats. (I broke up with Anto)

You take a few steps closer. "Gavi," you call his attention. "Did I ask you to do that?"

That's when it hit him. You weren't going to be back with him.

You walk back into the house, ready to enjoy the rest of the night and not think about anything. You are finally free.

Your friends and you decide that you were finishing the night at home. With a bottle of some liquor and a truth or dare game.

Before leaving, you went to say goodbye to Mario. Thanking him for inviting you. You told him that you were finishing at home because it was safer.

"Oye, Y/n!" You hear someone calling you.

You turn, seeing Jaime walking over to you.

"Hola, having fun?" You ask.

"Mucha." He laughs, making you laugh with him. "Hey, want to take a shot?"

You pout. "I'm leaving, but it was really good meeting you, hope I see you around before you leave."

He nods, giving you a hug. "Can I have your Instagram?"

You nod, asking him to hand you his phone. You type your username and pass him the phone.

He checks it, saying thank you to you.

"Oh, shoot." He says. "You know the 6 from Barcelona?" He asks, impressed.

You chuckle. "Oh, Pablo?" You ask. "He's just somebody that I used to know."

"Nice." He smiles. "I followed you. I hope you follow me back so we can chat." He winks, waving at you and going back to the party.

You go to your group, helping one of your friends with her bag. You stopped at the liquor store, getting something for the night.

You all change into your pijamas and get unready, taking you makeup and jewelry off.

You do a few rounds off truth or drink, if you may say. And everybody was already a little too drunk.

"Okay, Y/n, your turn." Karla says. "Let me think."

They all think for a moment. "Oh, I know, Luisa says." Making you and everybody curious. "Do you still love Pa-?"

They all hit Luis in the arm or head. Making you laugh.

"Qué si-" You start. "Qué si me gusta Pablo?" You ask back. She nods. "Que va, ya no siento nada por él. Eso es cosa del pasado." You smile. (If I still love Pablo? No, I don't feel anything for him. That's in the past.)

🏷: @gadriezmannsgirl @messi88 @electrobutterfly @dessxoxsworld @jsprien213 @alexis1taylorr @pabl0andm3 @yaxkinnn @htpssgavi @emmdreams

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