#i tried to keep it to one part that i kind of touched on in the last one but didn't fully explain

[thatonebirdwrites]

Cheating Death Part 2

Part 1 here.

Only seconds after Lena vanished in the portal, the Kryptonite cage melted into the floor. A yellow light pulsed so brightly, Kara had to close her eyes. Light infused her cells and pushed the pain of the Kryptonite away.

Lena's words echoed in Kara's head. How she'd stomped and shouted, the tears on her face, the desperation in her voice. How heartbroken she'd been when she'd said, "No, no you don't get to tell me who I am anymore."

She didn't know what to do. Lena had been hurting and grieving this entire time, and what had she and her friends done? Celebrated her brother's death, ignored Lena's increasingly isolating behaviors, and pretended everything was fine.

It wasn't fine.

Yet, the yellow light. Why had that activated? Was it Lena or the Fortress?

Kara ran through the Fortress to the control panel. She dug into the log and swiftly found Lena's code. It had been programmed to create the cage if Kara asked about Myriad, but then the yellow light was also programmed to heal Kara after Lena escaped. A note was annotated on that section of the code, and Kara's breath caught in her throat.

"I wish I could stop loving you. This hurts worse than death."

Tears dampened her cheeks and she wiped them away. What would she tell Alex? How can she explain any of this?

She didn't want her friends to turn on Lena, and Alex definitely would go after Lena if she knew about the cage. It'd been temporary, and Lena had programed a healing sun-bed equivalent burst for after. That alone gave her hope that she could still reach Lena.

Because even in her heartbreak, Lena did not want Kara dead.

She grabbed the weapon she needed, the same one Lena had used to stop Leviathan from killing Kara, and re-calibrated security. Her tears froze on her cheeks by the time she finished.

Kara flew out of the Fortress and high into the stratosphere. She listened for Lena's heartbeat, but heard nothing at first. Fear clenched her heart. Either Lena hid behind lead, or something terrible had gone wrong since she'd left. She hoped it was the former.

With a heavy heart, she flew to the DEO. Alex waited on a balcony.

"Kara?" Alex said, alarmed. "What the hell happened? Where's Lena?"

Kara held out the weapon. "It works as hoped. Sustained blast will keep Rama Khan down, and then attach the power dampeners."

Alex took the weapon with a frown. "Kara, what happened to Lena? Where is she?"

Kara shook her head. She couldn't voice it. She refused to believe Lena was lost to them. There had to be a way to save her, to bring her back, to repair what Kara had fucked up.

She pressed her hands against her face and flinched when Alex tried to touch her shoulder. "I got to find her," she whispered. "I got to make things right. I got to."

"Kara, I can't help if you don't tell me." Alex's voice held kindness, but Kara knew how quickly Alex could turn to anger. When it came to Kara's safety, Alex might cross a line she'd regret. Kara had done it for Alex a few times.

But with Lena? Kara had no boundaries. Lena held her heart in a way no one else did. She'd talked herself into settling for Mon-el, but it'd never been who she needed.

She needed Lena.

"Kara?" Alex tried again. "Kara, talk to me."

"She's the one who shot Lex." The words felt unreal.

Alex's brow wrinkled. "I thought he died when he fell."

Kara shook her head. "We never found a body or even parts from his suit, remember? If he had a portal watch, he could have gone anywhere."

Alex sucked in a breath. "And Lena was waiting for him?"

Kara nodded. "She shot him to protect us. She's been grieving and hurting all this time, and what have we done? Ignored her grief! Where were we for her pain?" She paced the balcony as fury at herself and everyone around her built up in her sternum. "I hurt her! I hurt her with my lies, and I have to fix this."

"Kara," Alex hefted the weapon. "Maybe let Lena have her space. We still have to deal with--"

"Alex, you didn't hear her!" Her pacing quickened and a groove appeared in the concrete from her superspeed.

Kara should tell Alex, and yet she couldn't. She needed to save Lena from Myriad herself, but to do that, she needed to find Lena. And she still couldn't hear her heartbeat.

She let out a shout of rage, her fist colliding with the wall and shattering the concrete. "I hurt the person I love! I have to fix this. I have to bring her back."

Her rage petered into sobs, and she fell to her knees.

Her, the strongest and fastest on the planet, brought to her knees by a Luthor.

She thinks of all the times she could have told Lena, and how she'd chickened out, afraid of losing her. Afraid of living a life without Lena's presence. Now a Lena-shaped hole had been carved in her chest, and she hurt.

It felt like Kryptonite all over again.

Was this how Lena had felt the past few months? This agony?

And yet, Lena had still helped. She'd still saved Kara's life. Still built devices that helped others. Why Myriad? Why use that monstrous device? Kara couldn't make sense of it. The months of pretending to be Kara's friend.

She should be angry at Lena. Furious at the betrayal, but she felt only grief. She'd started this with her lies, with leaving Lena in the dark. Lena could have helped so much more if she'd been in on it from the start. Then this never would have happened.

Kara sat there, silent, head-bowed long enough for Alex to leave and return with a cup of herbal tea. Rooibos since most other teas were too intense thanks to Kara's supertaste. Her fingers curled around the warm cup.

"I tasked Brainy and J'onn with the weapons. We'll deal with Leviathan." Alex smiled and squeezed Kara's shoulder. "You do what you need to do, Kara. I'm with you, okay?"

Kara nodded numbly. She sipped the tea and slowly became aware of a high-pitched beeping. "Wait, that's the signal watch," she murmured. She put down the cup and listened. It came from downtown. "Lena," she whispered.

Before Alex could respond, Kara blasted into the sky and broke the sound barrier. The crack whipped across the city and shook windows. She landed on Lena's balcony at L-Corp, ripped open the door, and dashed into a dark room. The beeping came from the stairwell.

Horror twisted her gut. She supersped down the stairs, all forty-three flights, until she reached the stairs just below ground level near the door to security.

She threw open the door and the thick scent of iron assaulted her nose.

Eve lay in a pool of blood, no heartbeat. Someone dressed in black lay crumbled near Eve, again no heartbeat. Blood coated the stairs from where Lena must have crawled.

Lena, her Lena, lay motionless, one hand on the top step. For a horrifyingly long second, Kara couldn't hear a heartbeat. She dropped next to Lena and pressed her fingers against Lena's pulse point.

No, there it was.

A faint badum-badum, the most precious sound in the universe.

She could do nothing for the others, but she still had a chance to save Lena. A scan of her body revealed the bullet in her side, how it pierced a lung.

Kara gathered Lena into her arms, and ran through the security sector, hitting each door with her shoulder to wrench it open, until she finally made her way outside.

Lena's blood soaked into her suit, her head rolling in Kara's arms. She held her close and flew as fast as she dared toward the DEO. "Lena, please," she whispered, "please hold on. Don't you dare die on me. Not now. Not like this."

When her feet touched down, she heard Alex's voice shouting about a Rama Khan sighting. Agents poured into vehicles, and the team prepared to leave.

Kara ignored them. She walked through the bustle, and people parted for her.

Alex turned from where she studied Brainy's screens. Her eyes widened. "What the hell...?"

"Please. Help her." Tears clouded her vision.

"Medical now. Brainy J'onn's in charge." Alex grasped Kara's arm and maneuvered her through the mess of the control center. Technicians worked on last minute fine-tuning of weapons, and others manned screens plotting possible vectors. Activity that meant nothing to Kara, not if Lena died.

Not if she couldn't speak her last truth to Lena.

She laid Lena on the medical bed, and Alex ordered her nurses to get an IV in immediately. Kara began to pace, the blood drying on her suit. Alex cut away Lena's shirt and examined the wound.

"She needs surgery now."

"What do I do?" she asked Alex, anguished. "What do I do?"

Alex shook her head. "You can't help with this. Go help J'onn, and wear Lena's anti-kryptonite suit. I'm not sure how long I'll be in surgery."

"Can you save her?"

"I will try my best," Alex said. She refused to look at Kara, and that told her far too much.

Alex didn't think Lena would make it.

"Promise?" the words came out small, plaintive.

"Promise. Now get out of my way." Alex hooked the IV bag to the pole on one end of the bed, and rolled it toward an interior suite. Two nurses followed along with a second doctor.

Kara closed her eyes and listened to the most beautiful heartbeat in the universe -- it faintly hung on, slower and slower with each passing minute.

She couldn't stay and watch the medical team open up Lena. She couldn't.

Instead, she grabbed the anti-kryptonite suit. As it flowed over her, she almost wept again. It felt like Lena hugged her, the suit entirely her design and her nanites.

She flew outside and listened for J'onn. The fight was to the southeast by the docks.

Hadn't Leviathan been targeting Lena? She'd saved her once from them already. Maybe twice if she counted the break-in that had knocked Lena unconscious.

Now Lena was dying, and Kara didn't just want justice for Lena.

She wanted to tear apart whoever ordered that assassin.

The windows shook at the sonic boom, and the ground cratered when she landed.

Rama Khan and another Leviathan member battled J'onn and Dreamer, who had the weapon from the Fortress. Agents, with adjusted weaponry to match the power-disrupting frequency, scattered around the docks.

Kara didn't care about the risk. She didn't care about the Kryptonite weapons the assholes carried.

She crashed into Rama Khan and threw him into a dock building. The wall crumpled. "Did you hire Lena Luthor's killer?" she growled.

Rama Khan laughed and stood with hardly a mark on him and his ridiculous earth-toned suit. "Those who cross Leviathan do not live to tell the tale. Let you now join her, Supergirl." He extended his hand and the ground shook violently.

A blast from Dreamer's gun sent Rama Khan sprawling. Kara sped over and grabbed him by the throat. Her feet she stomped on his arms. "No one hurts Lena and survives," she growled. Her eyes glowed, and she let out a scream of grief and fury.

She blasted him and punched him again and again. Blood gushed from his face, but then he melted into the earth and stumbled into being a few feet away.

Only for Dreamer to blast him again. Kara pummeled him with the rage of a thousand suns. Her vision red, and the land ripped and shredded in their fight. Part of the pier demolished when Kara threw Rama Khan's accomplice into it. Another building fell when Rama blasted Kara into its walls.

Rama Khan slowed, each blast from the gun scrambled his powers long enough for Kara to rip into him until he bled from multiple places. She lost track of the others, so intent on eliminating the one who ordered Lena's hit.

"Kara!" J'onn clamped the power dampeners on the alien. "Kara, we got him."

Kara clenched Rama's neck and looked down to see the cuffs clasped to his wrists.

How much loss could a heart handle? Why did the universe seek to torture her so? Her entire planet, nearly all her friends, and now the woman she loves most -- loss melted through her crevices, filled her with a blinding fury.

She'd fought to keep everyone alive. It's why she needed to be in control, but that obsession of controlling everything, to make sure she never lost, had poisoned her. She couldn't control everything.

She couldn't even save Lena. The thought of Lena dying in surgery, of never hearing her voice again -- even Lena shouting in anger?

Her fingers crunched bone. Rama Khan tumbled from her grasp and hit the ground with a thump, motionless.

Dreamer and J'onn looked at her, but she didn't respond to their words or looks. Agents swarmed around them to secure the site, while Brainy set up the containment unit for Rama Khan and his accomplices. The ruckus roared like the sea in her ears.

She turned without a word and shot into the sky. She flew as high as she could, to where little to no oxygen existed. The fury burned in her, and she wanted to rip herself apart. She deactivated her helmet, turned off its life support systems, and let the lack of air suffocate her and her emotions.

She'd live. She'd always live, wouldn't she? While all she loved died.

She closed her eyes and let herself fall. Air whooshed around her body, screamed in her ears as she hit terminal velocity. For those brief moments, she heard nothing but the shrill wind, the rest of the Earth drowned out in her fall. A moment of release from the endless soundscape.

Halfway to the ground, she righted herself and flew to the edge of Earth's atmosphere. Again she let herself fall. For a third time, she soared high and fell.

Each time she let herself get closer and closer to hitting the ocean. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't outpace her fury at her own actions. At her failure.

This time she hit the water. She sunk into its depths.

Sea life swam around her, the distant calls of whales rippled through the water. What should delight her brought her sorrow.

No, she couldn't die. Her wretched powers, her curse, kept her alive. Kept her isolated from those she loved. Her careful, practiced control meant even in moments of extreme emotion, she still had to make sure not to hug too tightly. And kissing? How many noses had she broken?

All she wanted was Lena. Even if she could never be with Lena, she needed Lena to be alive. To be healthy and happy. Kara could live with just being on the sidelines, right? As long as Lena was alive.

She burst out of the ocean in a shower of sea water. She hung in the air and watched the waves below her. Her ears tuned to her favorite heartbeat, and there it was, faint, far too faint, but still pulsing.

A slither of hope wove into Kara's wretched spirit. She flew back to the DEO, the wind drying the moisture from the sea.

When she landed, Nia met her at the balcony's doors. "Kara," she breathed out as if she'd been running. "Been looking everywhere."

Kara crossed her arms over her chest. "What do you want?"

"It's Lena. Alex said to let you know the surgery is ongoing and Lena's handling it like a pro." Nia met her gaze, but worry painted across her face. "Don't lose hope yet. She may still live."

Kara said nothing. She heard the rebuke in Nia's words, but she didn't regret her actions. For Lena, there was no boundaries. She'd destroy a thousand Rama Khans if it meant saving Lena.

She followed Nia down the hall, through two intersections, and into the medical bay. Most of the beds were occupied by injured agents from the Leviathan battle. It was the surgery room that occupied all of Kara's attention.

Lena's heart beat still in those glass walls.

Kara walked up to them and pressed a hand against the cool glass. Lena looked so pale. So fragile.

The tears returned. Her chest constricted with a Lena-shaped hole that ached with each beat of her heart.

She didn't move from that spot for the rest of the surgery. Kara held vigil in silence, unmoving. She'd given Lena revenge on those who tried to kill her, and now Kara waited.

Waited for hope to dawn once more.

/end part 2

[zeestie]

ʚïɞ ⋆｡ how I use psych k to reprogram my mind ｡⋆ ʚïɞ

hi everyone! today I am gonna talk about psych k - a combination of techniques I have been using to change any limiting beliefs I had and reprogram my subconscious to know it is limitless.

table of contents:

1. what is psych k & why/how it works

2. techniques to use

3. steps to follow in every psych session

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chapter 1: what is psych k & why/how it works

so psych k is a collection of methods used to reprogram the subconscious mind through releasing old patterns of thinking, feeling, and behaving, it basically uses specific protocols to get you back to the super learning state you had as a child.

I find it quite great to use for changing beliefs around myself, my life, and my manifestations, also these techniques help you assess how strong (or real) a belief feels to you, which we will talk about later.

these techniques might take time to master as you get to know your body, but really you don't really need to be a pro to do them well. the practice is mostly about getting better at self-assessing your beliefs.

so why exactly does psych k work?

basically, as children until the age of 7, our brains engaged in a full-time mode of super learning. that meant that it was absorbing all kinds of beliefs, ideas, knowledge at such a fast pace, almost like our brain is made out of sponge. this meant that whatever environment we were put in affected our subconscious mind, directly rewiring new beliefs.

now where does psych k fall in all of this?

through psych k techniques, you are able to go back to the super learning mode of the brain we had as children, which in turn allows you to edit your subconscious beliefs directly w/o the conscious mind interfering. instead of going the long way with regular affirmations, you speed up the process with psych k!

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chapter 2: techniques to use

🫧 part 1: questioning/testing techniques

these techniques are used to test the strength of a belief or ask the subconscious mind 'questions' (in the form of affirmative statements, not actual questions).

so let's say I wanna test how strongly I believe, 'I am worthy of happiness,' if I truly believed it, I will get a strong response (depending on the technique used, more on that below) and if I don't believe it, I will receive a weak response. so basically, if you wanna receive insight to how your subconscious mind feels about certain statements, remember this point: strong response = yes and weak response = no.

now let's talk about some methods that you can use for testing, seeking permission, and asking the sub mind:

🦋 technique 1.1: arm lever test

this is my go to technique for testing a belief. you can find videos that demonstrated it in the sources at the end of the post, but here I will explain the steps of using it:

1. stand up, keep your face straight (don't lower your neck), keep your eyes open, and look down by lowering your gaze only

2. hold your arm out: extend one arm straight out in front of you. hold it a little upward

3. test with the other hand: use your other hand to gently press on the extended arm, kinda on the middle/wrist area

4. test statements: bring into your awareness a belief like 'I am worthy of happiness.' if the sub mind thinks the statement is true, your arm should stay strong and resist being pushed down (strong response), but if the statement is false, your arm would weaken and easily be pushed down (weak response).

🦋 technique 1.2: finger o-ring test

(never tried it but ig it is a more descrete and an easier way compared to the arm lever test, so if you decide to try it, lmk how it went!)

1. form a ring or O shape by touching the tips of your thumb and index finder together on one hand

2. test the ring: with the other hand, use your thumb and index finger to gently try to pull apart the O shape while saying specifc statements or affirmations. a strong response is the ring not breaking, a weak response is the ring formation breaking apart.

🫧 part 2: new belief integration techniques

now we will talk about the bulk of the work: reprogramming your subconscious mind. I will start with talking about the main technique I have seen being used and then some other techniques I have heard about, but I haven't really tested, now let's begin!

🦋 technique 2.1: the whole-brain posture (the "balance" position)

1. sit comfortably on a chair with your feet flat on the ground.

2. cross your legs and arms over each other:

there are 4 combinations in which u could do that: right ankle over left, right wrist over left / right ankle over left, left wrist over right / left ankle over right, right wrist over left / left ankle over right, left wrist over right.

the way you choose to do it is important since a side of your body holds the belief you wanna change over the other, I usually don't bother knowing which side is weaker (aka needs more reprogramming) & instead I do all of the 4 combination for like 5 minutes each (or until I feel that my mind has accepted the affirmations).

anywho, once you have decided which combination you will use for the next 5 minutes, extend your arms in front of you then interlock your fingers and bring your hands up toward your chest.

3. close your eyes, take in deep breaths to calm yourself down, and focus on affirming or visualising the belief you want to integrate for as long as you need (like I said, I usually do 5 mins).

4. once you're done, uncross your limbs and reposition.

5. save the new belief by placing your fingertips together in front of you (forming a pyramid shape) for a few seconds (if the sub mind is a computer, think of this as a safe command!)

6. if you wanna, rinse and repeat for all combinations.

🦋 other techniques:

2.2: cross-crawl exercise: stand up and march in place, lifting your knees high. as you lift your left knee, touch it with your right hand. then lift your right knee and touch it with your left hand. (this promotes integration of the two sides of the mind). continue for a minute or two, focusing on the positive belief or intention you want to integrate.

2.3: energy yawns: place your fingertips on your cheekbones and gently massage while yawning deeply. this relaxes the brain and enhances focus.

2.4: lazy 8s: trace a large figure 8 in front of you with your hand, moving from left to right. this exercise helps integrate both hemispheres and improve coordination.

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chapter 3: steps to follow in every psych session

next we are going to talk about some sort of procedure I have come up with for whenever I am doing a self-administered psych k session. you don't have to follow it exactly, but I hope it provides w the guidance you need to start immediately!

🦋 step 0: preperations

it is important for you to be in a relaxed, meditative state for the work to be even more effective so here are some extra stuff you can do before starting the session:

1. stay hydrated + keep some water beside you

2. sit in a quiet room all alone

3. use noise-cancelling earphones for more quietness

4. listen to some type of colour noise at all times to stay relaxed + focus inward instead of outward

5. keep some journal with you (or use the notes app) to record, reflect, and take any notes

🦋 step 1: establish the protocol

before starting anything I want you to have an idea of what exactly you wanna get out of this session, so sit down & write down the methodology for this session based on this chapter. so basically, you specify each of the following steps I will discuss in this chapter cos psych k has many approaches

you can also identify your why for carrying out this session and what affirmations/visualisations/etc. you will be using.

write that all down on a piece of paper or an online document, so you could refer back to whenever you need to remember the next step

🦋 step 2: prepare your mind and body

now you need to relax your body and mind, stop overthinking and stay present, for that I recommend breath work, I personally use the wim hof technique!

after you're done regulating your breathing, and with it your mind and body, take a moment to state your intention to connect with your subconscious mind, elevate any symptoms, and change beliefs using X affirmation (or any other technique), you can say this outloud or just in your mind.

🦋 step 2.5: identify what you want to work on

step 2 is built on the assumption that you already know what you wanna program, but if you don't you can use this stage before stage 2. here are some suggestions for how to pick a belief:

1. order beliefs and work on ones that are the most foundational, ones affecting multiple areas of life or your self concept

2. choose a belief that is urgent, that is it is causing you major stress in your life and it is what you mostly think of

3. layer your beliefs. what I mean is you can start with a general belief, such as 'I am capable.' and as you do more sessions, add more details to it, for example 'I am capable of succeeding in my career.'

4. google general limiting beliefs people have. you can even google specfic ones like 'limiting beliefs around love' and see which one resonates

5. journal, sometimes a quick journaling session can immediatly tell u what immediate obstacle there is in your thinking, which will give you a great idea of what belief you need to change

🦋 step 3: use a testing (permission) technique to identify where your beliefs are at, then test and establish baseline responses

like I said, psych k helps you understand how much you believe a belief, refer back to chapter 2 for some testing/permission techniques to use, but basically you will decide what technique you wanna use (I usually go for the arm lever test)

next, you will use the technique to establish what is a weak response for you and what is a strong one. you can use commands, such as 'be strong' & 'be weak,' or basic statements like 'my name is [false name]' & 'my name is [true name]' to understand what a true & false response feels like

🦋 step 4: ask question regarding the belief to test it & maybe revise intentions

so now that you know what a strong belief verses a weak one shows up in your body, it is time to ask some questions! basically you are gonna say your limiting belief (just like you'd say an affirmation and in present tense) and then test to see how strong (real) it seems + you will do the same for your affirmation to measure its strength

you can ask follow up Qs in the form of much specific statements to understand how your body truly feels about it. based on your findings, you can set new intentions if you think there's a better belief to work on rn.

🦋 step 4.5: ask for permission to change the belief using a testing/permission technique

for this you can use the same technique you used in the step before to test the belief. you basically set your intentions using something along the lines of, 'I request permission from my subconscious and superconscious mind to proceed with this belief change.' you can get more specific or change the wording to your liking

the reason this is step 4.5 is because I don't see it always being used, though I think it is good practice to ask for permission before trying to do something that might be too traumatic to do at this stage.

basically, a strong response = yes & a weak respone = no

if you get a no, you might wanna reflect (through your journal) on why this happened and how can you change that, maybe this is not the belief to change for today or maybe you gotta approach it from a different angle.

you can continue to test your sub mind through different statements and asking for permission, when you're satistified with the results you may continue!

🦋 step 5: choose a belief integration technique to integrate using the balance position

now for the bulk of the work! you're gonna decide on what technique you're gonna use to reprogram and what supplementary techniques you will use (affirmations, visualisations, aff tapes, etc.),

like I said before, I typically use the whole-brain posture. and ofc, once you're done you will just save it as discussed, and then repeat it if you wanna

🦋 step 6: test the belief again

repeat step 4 & use a testing technique (like the lever test) to identify how your beliefs have changed

🦋 step 7: solidify your belief over time

give yourself a couple of weeks or a month and then, retest the belief again using a testing technique (after relaxing and getting into a meditative state of course).

then you can try to anchor them through visualising. another good way to solidify them is to set goals and actionable steps for yourself to challenge the old belief

& ofc pay attention to how you feel and if it feels like you need another session, go for it!

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andddd that's all!! thank you sm for reading and good luck reminding yourself that you are limitless! these techniques on the newer side for me so let me know your experiences and thoughts on the topic cos I am always open to learning more about it <3

p.s: here are my main source that I reccomend watching as a beginner + if you wanna see live demonstration of the techniques:

https://youtu.be/xr7mZmIhBSg?si=fWyigeSDc9oPsdqn

https://youtu.be/qhDH_a3MHKo?si=XfGV8Mg5lIHAUSH8

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[megumisgirl]

furtrated tears megumi x fem! (writer/poet) reader

when a day shines so brightly it blinds you, and causes you to sheild your eyes from the light, you know you started your day right. you get up early, do a little work-out, or read a book, take some time to yourself before you study, exams are near and you need to prepare. you can't focus, your head isn't in the right space.

you let yourself go. you feel yourself slipping away from the grasp of reality. you rely on a coping mechanism, try to find something to push yourself to the max. find something, anything to think that you are good enough. something that you know you can do and you know you can excel at. something that will not make you cry and sob and punch the wall.

but... is it enough?

the sound of typing makes the raven haired boy snap his neck at your direction. your eyes were focused on your laptop, headphones covering your ears as a thick straw sat in between your lips. that overly sweet pearl drink you always have wet your throat as you tried to finish of your book. you were down to the last chapters. and that's when it hit.

your typing slowed down before eventually stopping. you chewed on the straw, the pearly balls popping in your mouth as you nervously tapped your nails on the table. "what rhymes with 'odyssey'?" you asked out, making megumi turn his head to look at you once again. he hummed softly, looking over at your laptop. he could only see the white of the google docx and the title, with the tiny letters only writing one line. the caret blinking continuously.

"uh.. i don't know," he shrugged, "pussy rhymes with odyssey." he said, making you blow through your cheeks as you turned to look at him. hopeless. you stared at him blankly as he sighed softly, "what? i'm just kidding." he said, before getting off the bed with a small grunt and walking up to you. his hands went to your shoulder, pressing on them with his weight as he tried to ease some tension. "leave that be," he said.

"i can't!" you groaned, "i need to finish it before-" your voice was loud and almost in a tone as if you two were fighting.

"leave that be," he repeated, his voice calmer and composed. he watched you as you buried your face into your hands. "stop stressing about it. if you force yourself to get ideas it will never come," he said, moving all your hair from your back to one of your shoulder, "just take a small break," he whispered, kissing the nape of your neck before pulling your chair back and turning it around so you were facing him. "what do we say?"

you sighed softly, feeling embarrassed to be babied like this but also liking a part of it. but at the same time frustration did not go easy. writer's block was messing your mind. days after days you sat in front of your laptop, staring at the blinking caret, hoping it would move by itself and write a masterpiece but it doesn't. and it was exhausted. "i don't care what we say." you sighed, "i need this to be finished, it's-" your voice got slightly heavier, cracking as you closed your eyes and buried your face on your hands once again.

"oh, baby." megumi sighs, kneeling in front of you as his hands went to your thighs. the touch wasn't sensual, it was soft and sweet and caring. he took your hand in his, brining it away from your face to see your glossy eyes and cheeks. kissing your knuckles he softly spoke again, "you're a great writer. it shows in the way you talk and in the way you see the world. if you hit a little wall you can't just break down like this, butterfly." he sighed, his words gentle and sweet.

"just keep on going. i'm sure you'll find something better to write about," he said, wiping your tears away as he stood up, his hand going under your chin to make you look up at him. "you're so tired, aren't you, angel?" he asked, sighing softly. his heart broke for his little girl. how could he be so cruel to not see everything she was going through? what kind of a boyfriend was he? "let me take care of you," he murmured, his voice sweet and caring.

"let me take care of you and your sweet little pussy, yeah?"

nsfw

in minutes you were sprawled on the bed, your skirt pooling around your waist as he buried his face in between your legs. his tongue lapped at your folds, taking in each and every drop that came out of you. his breath fanned against your skin, creating a ticklish sensation as you whined softly, your eyes closing as your hands went to his hair. he looked up at you, face contorted in pleasure as he pulled away.

when he thought you were wet enough, he took you so well. it wasn't rushed, or aggressive, or rough. it was smooth and slow and loving. enough to clear your head and give you some great inspiration. he took you in missionary first, eyes locked, whispering the sweetest things known to man and then matting pressing, watching his cock disappear inside you with each thrust and finally ending it with hugging you close and kissing your forehead, cuddling you as good as one can.

you were very clear headed from then.

writer's note:

hello !! thank you so much for having the patience with me and waiting for so long. i think i last posted here a year ago? and i am genuinely sorry for leaving without any trace.

one of the reason was the lack of use of this app for me. i'm not that active in the tumblr community per say. i mean, i just write, post, read other blogs and leave the website. i do have one or two friends from here and i genuinely adore them! but still i just don't find the time to get back here for some reason. but i will try to be consistent from now on.

second reason was for my exams. i am a cambridge student and i have a TON of responsibilities right now since my o-levels just finished and my AS and A2 are coming up. if you're a cam student hmu cuz i need tips on how to pass fr. but yeah, it's a lot of pressure and i'm just super exhausted guys.

anyways, sorry for venting. i really needed that lol. but i hope u liked this promt!!!! it's an old draft i rewrote and i kinda like it :3 hope u enjoy it! comment any criticisms you have; this is a critique friendly blog! (don't do it, i will cry.)

divider from @schizsou !!

[yaoianime]

Soon im rly gonna do it

[savagevillain]

" #i could go on FOREVER about this topic because there's SO MUCH MORE " PLEASE PLEASE tell us more about klaus and werewolves

「  There is a lot of trauma intwined with Klaus' view of the werewolves. He was raised being taught they were dangerous and to stay away from them ( which didn't help his feelings of being different from others since he was so drawn to them ) and then he witnessed his little brother be mauled by them. He found out that everything he'd been told about the werewolves had been right and his own gut feeling had been wrong. They were villains in his childhood and then he found out that he was one. He literally had part of the beasts that had killed his youngest brother within him ( they had been his blood family ). It had been his fault that Henrik had been anywhere near them in the first place that full moon, because he'd led his brother out to watch them turn. He set everything in motion. The guilt had been overwhelming, as had the grief. ( ELIJAH: "Our family was devastated. None more so than Niklaus." ) He became convinced that his siblings found him guilty too and that they looked at him with the same mistrust and fear they had looked at the wolf-men in the village. 」

[ozzgin]

Yandere! House Monster x Reader

Listen, I woke up in cold sweat at 4am with a vision: you and your stereotypically unavailable gamer boyfriend have moved into a new house. You find out very soon it's not as empty as you had assumed, but your worries fall on deaf ears. The tentacle monster lurking in dark corners just wants to make sure you're not lonely.

[Second Part]

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance (mildly NSFW)

You didn't notice anything strange at first. Maybe it was considering its prey. You'd found a cheap, old house available for rent, and your boyfriend couldn't refuse the extra space for his mancave.

Oh, you poor thing. It watched your lonely evenings, your empty bed at night, your futile attempts to spend more time with your beloved partner. It had originally planned to devour your souls and await the next foolish mortals to enter its realm, but seeing your pitiful state prompted a change of heart. Metaphorical heart, of course.

It started gradually: testing the waters, or what you'd call a courting attempt. Doors opening by themselves, disembodied eyes lovingly gazing at you from the nearby walls. Dark tendrils making their way out of the shadows, just to announce its presence.

"I think this place might be cursed", you told your boyfriend one evening. "I've been stalked by amorphous silhouettes of blight and terror, and they whisper ancient blasphemies to me at night." He let out a worried shout and slapped the desk. "That's cool, babe. I'm kind of losing right now, though, so perhaps give me a minute?"

One night you were awakened from your slumber by a warm touch sliding across your body. You smiled into your pillow as the cheeky hands made their way down, fondling your curves and hungrily searching for your sensitive areas. You let out a soft moan, enjoying the moment, until you heard your boyfriend yell from the other room. Your eyes shot open.

The hands lewdly groping your privates were, in fact, tentacles. Your first reaction was to gasp, but you were quickly silenced by another slippery appendage pressing against your lips. Shh, shh. Allow the creature to do its thing, dear. Surely enough, within minutes you were a drooling mess, holding onto the sheets for dear life.

"You've been in a good mood lately", you boyfriend remarks, idly scrolling on his phone and crunching on his breakfast cereal. You ponder if you should tell him you've been fucked relentlessly by a monstrous creature inhabiting your new home. You glance at the counter and smirk, remembering how you just had to wipe your wet mess from it a few hours ago. "Keep it that way, hun, I could get used to not being pestered every hour", the man jokes with a laugh.

Does it count as cheating if your affair partner isn't really human? Although, you have to wonder if you're still dating to begin with. From the corner of your eye, you can discern faint movement above the young man, a shadow looming menacingly. The eldritch monster would not hesitate to tear your poor boyfriend apart if he tried to mess with its belonging.

[retrosabers]

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐔𝐌𝐄’𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐌.

logan howlett x fem!reader

summary: the scent of you is driving logan crazy.

contains: mild 18+ content. MINORS DNI. mentions of masturbation (m&f), a steamy little make out, and implications of future smut

word count: 1.8k

a/n: not me trying to capitalize off the hugh jackman renaissance and revive my dead blog…anyways, this is my first time writing for logan! hope you all enjoy <3

i feel like we don’t talk enough about logan’s enhanced sense of smell.

the man can catch a whiff of someone the second they walk into the room, even the building sometimes if their scent is strong enough. it’s especially heightened when he realizes he’s attracted to you. at first he thought maybe it was because you were always wearing perfume, the aroma lingering around the mansion wherever you traveled. but then it became such an intense, all encompassing sensation that he knew it was something deeper.

his suspicions are confirmed one night as he walks past your room. if the faint whimpers he heard weren't enough confirmation of your activities, then the scent that fills his nostrils seals the deal.

you’re touching yourself. and he can smell your arousal.

it makes something stir in his stomach. the animal-like urges he always tries so hard to keep at bay threaten to make their way to the surface the longer he stands frozen in the hallway. logan attempts to shake the heat that spreads across his skin as he makes his way back to his own room, but it only ends with him cumming hard into his hand an hour later.

the next day, when he catches you on your way out of charles’ office, you offer him the same kind, beaming smile you always did. then that damned smell fills his nostrils again and his fists curl at his sides once you’re out of eyesight.

there’s only one explanation for it.

you’re ovulating.

which means there’s no escaping his desires unless you stay out of reach.

so for his sake and yours, he decides to just avoid you completely until the week is over. he can’t risk caving to those urges and doing something stupid and irrational.

of course you’re completely oblivious to it. you think that he’s just being weird, going through another rut of being a standoffish loner like he was when he first arrived at the mansion. because after about a week, he’s back to being a bit friendlier, to being the logan you had grown to call a close friend.

then the cycle seems to repeat itself and you notice it’s just you he’s avoiding.

you try and wrack your brain to think of anything you could’ve done to warrant this kind of isolation. you hoped if something upset logan he would just talk to you about it instead of playing this childish game of hot and cold.

after a couple months, you decide you’ve had enough.

cornering him was a difficult task. but you were observant enough to know certain parts of his routine, including exactly when he would be lingering in the common areas after all the kids had gone to sleep. after two failed attempts of trying to catch him in the kitchen, you finally managed to find him alone and unsuspecting.

“why have you been avoiding me?” you blurt, wanting to cut right to the chase. you’re expecting him to flinch a little bit, perhaps even be stunned.

but he knew you were coming. logan knew it was only a matter of time before you noticed his schtick.

still, he decides to look for an excuse, any excuse, to cover up the real reason.

“m’not avoiding you” he grumbles halfheartedly around the rim of a beer bottle. taking an extra long swig, he finally turns to look at you; leaning against the doorway with your arms folded and a look akin to annoyance plastered across your pretty face.

you cock your head to the side, clearly unimpressed with his answer.

“a few days ago, i watched you back out of a room the minute you realized i was in it,” you start to list off, counting with your fingers. “last month you avoided the wing where the gym was altogether while i was going through a new training regimen.”

logan winces at the memory. the scent of your pheromones was intoxicating. so much so that he couldn’t step foot anywhere near the gym without feeling like he needed to rub one out.

“and the month before that,” you huff out a sad laugh, voice suddenly soft and quiet. “you didn’t even say goodbye before you went off on that mission with scott and jean.”

guilt overtakes him quickly at the pain in your tone.

you’ve never looked smaller as you pick at a loose thread on your sweatpants. “did i do something wrong?”

“no,” logan reassures, jumping out of his seat at record speed, though still trying to maintain some distance. “you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“then what is it? you sigh exasperatedly, desperate to put an end to this nagging feeling that’s been eating away at you. “logan, you know if something’s bothering you, you can tell me.”

and he wants to. he so badly wants to, maybe even see if you’ll offer to help him out. but you’re you. the sweetest, kindest thing he’s ever known and he’ll be damned if he lets his curse of a mutation ruin whatever relationship the two of you have.

but then you’re inching closer and his skin starts buzzing again. his senses are consumed by you. by the way you look up at him with big, wide eyes, the softness of your skin as you reach to place a comforting hand on his forearm. it's all too much, and he finds himself pulling away from you with a grunt.

it hurts to see him retreat from you so aggressively. his jaw is clenched tight, his fists at his sides even tighter as the veins in his arms bulge bigger than you’ve ever seen before. he looks pained. like he’s fighting something internally.

“logan,” you approach him cautiously, unsure of what exactly to do. “what’s going on?”

his eyes squeeze shut at the sound of your voice. “just, please go back to your room.”

“i’m not leaving you like this.”

“m’not asking you,” he grits out, almost like a growl. “i’m telling you. go back to your room.”

now he was starting to piss you off. you narrow your eyes, leaning your hip against the counter.

“or what?”

suddenly he’s crowding your space, chest heaving up and down as he stares at you with pupils so wide his eyes are nearly black. logan’s voice is scarily level when he utters his final warning.

“or i’m gonna do something i regret.”

when you shift closer to him, his nose twitches with a sniff. the raise of your brow doesn’t go unnoticed, and he knows that you’re not leaving this room until you get to the bottom of what he’s been hiding.

that’s when something inside logan decides to throw caution to the wind, just for a minute.

“i can smell you.”

curiosity morphs into confusion at his admission. you shake your head.

“i don’t understand.”

then, the man’s gaze travels to the waistband of your pajama pants, the tension in his jaw growing more taught by the second. his hands flex at his sides, trying to keep him grounded and calm as he finally admits what’s been driving him mad.

“i can smell you.”

the emphasis on the last word takes a minute to register. logan watches as the gears turn behind your eyes, catches the exact moment of realization as your gaze softens and your lips part.

oh.

oh.

slowly things start to piece together. how logan’s behavior seemed to fall around the same time these past couple months. a few weeks before your cycle.

he wasn’t avoiding you because he was angry, or upset. he was avoiding you because you were fucking ovulating.

logan expects you to flee, to be completely weirded out and steer clear of him for the foreseeable future. what he’s not expecting, is the words that come out of your mouth.

“i can help you with that if you want.”

you say it with such nonchalance, such casualness that he wonders if you’re even really grasping what you’ve said.

the wolverine shakes his head. “trust me, you don’t want this.”

he doesn’t quite believe his own words as he watches you close the distance between your bodies. something you’ve been desperate to do for as long as you can remember.

the thin fabric of his tank top and the soft cotton of your t-shirt is the only thing standing between you both. your chests are mere centimeters from touching and logan can feel the heat radiating from your bodies as his confession hangs heavy in the air. then that fucking smell comes back tenfold and he groans.

“you don’t get to make that choice for me,” your voice is sickly sweet, dripping with desire as your fingers ghost over the waistband of his jeans. he feels like a horny teenager as he preens at the barely there contact.

logan breathes your name, a last stitch effort to get you to run, though he knows it’s futile. if there’s one thing he knows about you, it’s that you're stubborn. unmoving in your ways.

and that when you want something, you don’t stop until you get it.

your hand comes up to cradle the side of his face, a rather gentle touch he wasn’t anticipating. his eyes flutter shut as you swipe your thumb over the expanse of his cheekbone.

your words are barely above a whisper. “i trust you, logan. completely.”

that’s all he needs to hear before he throws any sense of self control out the window.

he surges forward and captures your lips in what is possibly the most heated kiss you’ve ever experienced. you nearly stumble over at the sheer force of it. logan’s large hands fly to your waist, yours to the back of his neck as his tongue prods for entrance into your mouth. it’s messy, almost primal as you let him ravish you like he’s been thinking about for weeks.

you moan and he swallows the sound greedily, desperate to hear it again, and again, and again. when his lips move to press against the column of your throat, you know this is going to escalate into exactly what you hoped it would.

“logan,” you breathe out as he focuses on your pulse point, his hands wandering further south to knead at the globes of your ass. “not here.”

“why not?” he mutters, all smirky and smug as he continues to press wet hot kisses against your neck.

“because i would prefer if you didn’t fuck me where our friends eat.”

he laughs, a deep vibration felt against your chest as you absentmindedly grind your core against his. it makes him bring his mouth back up to yours, stealing one final kiss before he pulls away.

looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. and by god you might just let him.

pressing a playful smack against your backside, he gently nudges you in the direction of the corridor.

“lead the way sugar.”

thanks for reading! <3

[suguann]

an. part two of this | masterlist

You tell him you broke up with your boyfriend while he’s away for work, bunked up in a safe house in the middle of nowhere with shit reception, hearing your words as clear as day as if they weren’t the chopped-up version coming through his burner phone.

“It just…didn’t work out.”

It didn’t work out.

He pretends his stomach doesn’t pleasantly twist because he’d expected it to happen eventually. He’s not happy about it—although it does make the desert heat more bearable in his heavy tactical gear—and tells Soap to fuck off when he comments on it.

It was a one-time fuck because Simon doesn’t date. He’s tried in the past before he met you—the flowers, the late-night dinners—but with him being gone almost every other month (sometimes longer, shorter if he’s lucky), it never works out in the end. Sleeping with you twice would fall under that category, the quasi-relationship kind, and make everything messier than it needs to be. 

Just some fun, no strings, those are the words he promised.

If only he believed them.

He does, for all of two weeks until he’s home again, and it’s summer, so you’re wearing a flowy dress that shows off the long expanse of your legs. 

(He’s a goner—not even sure why he tried to think otherwise.)

That one time he’d promised turns into a second, both of you stumbling into your apartment after a night out. The music from the pub still thumping loudly underneath your floor as he pushes you against the front door, hands in your hair—on your waist, underneath your skirt, down your thigh to hitch it over his waist—teasing your mouth open with a swipe of his tongue across your bottom lip.

You make this delighted little noise in the back of your throat, arching into him, and his hand spans down your stomach, beneath your underwear, to nudge your messy clit with his knuckle, wanting to hear all the sounds you make now that he has you alone. 

A whiny cry of his name rewards him—jeans tightening around his waist at the sound—when his fingers go down, down until they press against your tight little hole, one finger pressing inside slowly. "If I make you cum, I get to fuck you here.”

You smile prettily, and it disarms him. “If you make me cum, you can fuck me however you want.”

Neither of you makes it to the bed, falling asleep on the living room floor instead, the blanket from the couch draped haphazardly over both of you with his arm curled over your waist.

That night had been a slip of judgment, a product of wanting something warm and soft after several months of only having his hand for company.

It happens again and again, and he keeps letting it happen until there’s no more hiding under the guise of just fun because it somehow turns into a lot more than that.

Simon can’t explain how it happens—maybe becoming something he can touch and hold and think about often—but he finds himself in an exclusive relationship with you that isn’t exactly a relationship because he’s unsure of the ins and outs that they entail.

(Always has been.)

His father was a shit role model, and it was always easier finding someone new who didn’t know his name or care about his scars and only wanted a nice fuck. There had never been any point in shooting for something serious when it was always out of the question for him, until now, that is.

He takes you to that over-rated restaurant overlooking the Thames Marcus never brought you to. A picture of you and him with the sunset in the background—your smile almost blinding in the photo—becomes his home screen, and he finds he doesn’t care when Soap has something to say about it.

He lets you do nonsensical shit, like buying small plants for his house that are surely going to die from him being gone before he comes up with the great idea to give you a key. It’s just a key.

(It’s more than just a key.)

Simon finds himself asking if he can come over more often throughout the week, which slowly moulds and shifts into nights filled with things other than sex—sleeping after a long day of work, cuddling on the couch, cooking together, going to the movies—he doesn’t try to make a big deal out of it because you used to hang out all the time without sex. 

(Somewhere, there’s a but in there.)

There’s still no label to whatever this is, and he wonders if you want him to be the first to say the thing you’ve both been dancing around for a little over…he can’t remember, but he knows it’s been long enough for your things to mix in with his at his house. 

Be with me because I’m yours, and you’re mine, that’s what he’s trying to say, and it’s never the right time. Men like him—a little broken, rough, and jagged around the edges sharp enough to cut—aren’t good with words like that.

(That’s what he thought.)

If he hadn’t seen you talking to a guy at the pub, eyes crinkling in that same sweet way whenever Simon makes you laugh, he wonders if he would’ve been the first to break from the start. He knows it’s your job as a bartender to be nice, but his jaw clicks at the sight of the guy leaning over the bar and into your space, almost too close.

The feeling doesn’t go away until he has you spread out on your mattress under him—clothes haphazardly peeled out of the way for him to put his mouth on you—your lips pursed tight around two of his fingers to give you something to focus on as his other hand works between your thighs, pressing down on your tongue when gurgled little sounds slip out.

He teases you with a small, pink vibrator he found inside your bedside table, your legs kicking out and toes curling into his calves.

“Mine. This is mine, love,” he groans, pressing you further into the bed with his weight. “Do you understand?”

You nod, tears pearling and leaking from the corner of your eyes.

“Lemme cum,” you whine, words muffled. “Simon, I want to cum. Please.”

He won’t lie that he’s close after jerking into his fist to the sight of you writhing on the sheets—swears he can feel his heartbeat throbbing against the back of his fingers—takes in your surprised expression when he pushes forward, impaling you on the first few inches of his cock.

His stomach twists from the squeal that escapes your throat, and fuck, your cunt, so hot and tight with little pulses that drive him crazy, only growing tighter when he turns up the speed on the vibrator.

“‘Mm, gonna cum. I’m—”

He grits his teeth as you start to flutter around his cock once he’s rooted inside you. “Go on—fuck—go on, love. Let me feel it.”

You look so perfect like this, like a dream: lips parted into an enticing little O with his name tumbling out in breathy mewls, tits hanging out from the bra he shoved to the side, eyes glassy and unfocused. 

“So fucking pretty.” He kisses your throat, panting into your sweat-slick skin, and it’s not long before he’s falling over the edge with you. 

Next time, he’ll have the courage to tell you: that you’re not someone he calls for a meaningless fuck on the weekend, that Simon misses you when he’s gone and can’t wait to come home, that he wants to try with you—except not when he’s balls deep and trembling inside your heavenly cunt.

But the smile he feels against his shoulder makes him think that maybe…

Maybe you already know.

[navybrat817]

Why isn't Bucky waking me up to have his way with me?

I wish I had the answer, nonnie!

Slip Inside

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky can't resist having you when he comes home.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, somnophilia (at first), established relationship, pet names, possessive behavior, slight feels (it's me, okay?), lovesick and needy Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I can't send Bucky, but here you lovelies go! ❤️Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky wasn't meant to be home until tomorrow. He almost called to let you know he’d be back a day early, but it was late and he didn't want to disturb your slumber. Imagining the happy look in your eyes when you woke up beside him brought a smile to his face. Being loved by you was something he still couldn't believe was real some days, but he knew in the depths of his soul that you would always be his girl.

“Welcome home,” he whispered to himself when he saw you in bed, a sight for sore eyes.

He kept his gaze on you as he undressed, careful not to make any noise. You had an arm draped over the pillow next to you, the one he usually rested his head on. His heart raced as he took a step closer and gently pulled the blanket away, your body barely covered by the shirt he recently bought for you. Shivering slightly, you tried to curl in on yourself, but stilled quickly.

Like you knew he was watching you.

“I love you,” he breathed into the room.

You replied with a moan and rubbed your hand against the pillow.

You were beautiful when you slept. If you asked him, you were gorgeous all the time. A breathless kind of vision that he grew to appreciate more and more each day. But you weren't like a piece of art for him to just admire. You were the type of beauty meant to be appreciated.

And he gladly did so with his hands, mouth, and cock.

Oh, he loved you. Fuck, he needed you, too. It was an ache. A hunger. Awake, asleep, it didn't matter as long as he had you. And you were understanding enough to let him take what he needed.

“Mine,” he whispered.

Bucky quickly took the opportunity to slip into the bed and spoon you from behind. Your steady breathing grounded him in a sense while awakening the beast he kept at bay. The one that wanted to come out and play. One that needed to bury himself deep and keep you full.

If you were awake, he would've turned your head to kiss you nice and slow, unrushed even with the mounting desperation. Instead he rubbed his nose and scruffy chin at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, breathing in the distinctly sweet scent of you while wanting to leave his claim. That no one else could touch or have you. That you were his.

“You're mine,” he growled lowly.

Rubbing the inside of your thigh once he pushed your shirt up enough, he heard your breathing hitch. He wasn't ready for you to wake up just yet, but it didn't keep him moving his hand higher and grasping the elastic of your underwear. He debated tearing the offending fabric off, but he couldn't fault you for wearing them.

You didn't know he'd come home tonight.

He also thought about touching you through your panties to feel you squirm under his touch. Your whines and whimpers always made his cock twitch, especially when you soaked the fabric. Sometimes he liked to shove them in your mouth so you could taste yourself and know he was the one who did that to you.

Only him.

He brushed his lips along your skin as he pulled it down, almost wishing he was in front of you so he could look down and see your exposed pussy. “Mine,” he whispered again as his fingers parted your folds and skimmed over your clit.

You moved back against him with a sigh, enticing him without even trying. Alternating between teasing the bundle of nerves and your slit, he felt his own breathing get heavier and harsh with each passing second. By the time he brought his fingers to his mouth to lick your juices away, his cock was hard and heavy with the need to sink into your dripping cunt. He grunted as your flavor exploded on his tongue. He was done with foreplay.

And with how you panted and writhed, you were ready for him.

He hooked your leg over his thick thigh to open you up, hoping it wouldn't hurt when you stretched around him. “I love you,” he said once more as he brushed the tip of his cock against your hole, sighing as he slowly filled you up.

He had to close his eyes and hide his face in your neck to keep from losing it. He could go for hours when he wanted to, but the feel of your warm wetness gripping him like a vice was almost too much. Finishing quickly or not didn't matter. You’d take it as a compliment if your sweet cunt made him empty himself inside you so fast.

But he had to make it last and make you come first.

With a deep breath, he got himself under control. You let out the sweetest whine when he almost pulled out completely and shoved himself back in. Curled around you, all you could do was take his deep thrusts. He could've breathed through his nose and tried to stay quiet. He could’ve gone slow and steady. But he moaned and nipped at your skin, not wanting to hide his desire for you.

He couldn't see your face, but he felt you roll your hips back as you began to stir and heard another whine escape. You weren't completely awake, but your body craved what he was doing to you. It was enough for him to roll you on your stomach and quicken his pace.

“Bucky?” You mumbled.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I couldn't resist. Your pussy’s too good,” he groaned, putting a hand to the back of your neck to hold you still. “I need you. Need to feel you come on my cock.”

You fluttered around him as he stretched over your back, forcing you to take every inch of him. Your body went pliant as you let out a tired and needy moan. If you wanted him to stop, you would’ve told him to do so. “Please,” you whined as he practically rutted into you.

“I got you,” he grunted, driving harder into you as your fingers twisted in the sheets. “Missed you. Missed you so fucking much. Might need to keep my cock in you all night.”

You trembled, both of you knowing you’d lay there and let him fuck you all night if he asked. You were so good for him. And greedy. It would be wrong of him not to give you what you longed for.

“And you'll let me fill you up, won't you? Of course, you will,” he panted against your ear. You tried to arch your back, but his massive frame overpowered you. “It’s okay. Just take it. Let me have you.”

Fucking you raw was a gift he’d selfishly continue to ask for and take. But how could he not? You always let out the prettiest sounds when he flooded your holes.

He couldn't stop himself from shoving his hand between the mattress and your body, seeking out your clit to tip you over the edge. Moans poured from you as he lightly pinched it, giving you the push you needed. “That’s it. Come on my cock. My cock. My good girl,” he encouraged as you clamped around him hard enough for him to lose his breath.

You nearly cried as he took you apart. “Bu… Bucky…”

“Trembling around my cock. Greedy girl,” he moaned, his hips snapping faster as he brought his mouth back to your ear. “My turn.”

He let out a deep groan as he stilled, filling you. His release hit him so hard his head spun, muttering his love for and possession of you as his eyes fluttered. You let out a broken moan as you clenched around him again and he had to keep from collapsing against you, both of you fighting for air.

“Love you,” he mumbled, wanting you to hear it now that you were awake.

He only pulled out so he could move you to your back and desperately kiss your lips the way he needed to, pushing himself back inside your leaking hole with a hum. Your eyes were half-lidded when he broke the kiss. Your gaze made him want to ruin you all over again.

“Love you, too,” you croaked, your back bowing when he groped your breast through the shirt. “Welcome home.”

Bucky’s heart pounded as he leaned down to kiss you again. It was a dance of tongue and teeth, dizzying and passionate. Some days you were the fire and others you were the fuel. You accepted the entirety of him and he welcomed everything you selflessly gave him in return.

“Good to be home, baby,” he smirked, brushing his thumb along your covered nipple. “Now stay awake. I need to fill you up at least two more times before the sun comes up.”

Even after that, he wasn't close to being done with you. But he was whole because he was home with you. And that would always be enough.

We deserve this, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[dollyhao]

older woman! abby x young woman! reader

summary: abby is not sure getting close to her young secretary is a good idea or not but you know for sure it is.

cw: pining, fluff, smut, love <3, all types of cute shit

word count: 2.5k

working for abby has been one of the best experiences you've ever had. you started working as a receptionist/secretary at abby's auto body shop five months ago and she is the greatest boss you've ever had.

she is so kind and patient especially when you make mistakes. she respects her employees and treats them more like colleagues than subordinates. not to mention she is beautiful, like really beautiful. for a woman in her late thirties she was very fit, it was very clear she worked out and you mostly see her bring salmon and rice into work for lunch.

she had skin that looked soft to the touch and a couple of scars running up her forearms, most from her job as a mechanic. she had luscious, thick dirty blonde hair that she keeps in a braid or sometimes a bun.

you may have developed a crush on the older woman, blushing at every word she says to you in that soft tone. or when she stands close to you; looking over your shoulder to look at the computer that's in front of you. and you've tried to make it obvious that you were interested by lingering looks, compliments about her work, and questions trying to get to know her better, but she has never made a move.

but lord did abby wish the feelings weren't mutual.

abby hired you because of your business degree and your experience but you ended up being the best part of her day. you were beautiful and funny and you made her job as the owner so much easier. she's able to focus on her passion as a mechanic and she couldn't thank you enough. but she tries to keep away because it wouldn't be right to start a relationship with you, your in your early twenties and abby's in her late thirties, you were probably looking for different things right now.

abby wants to settle down, get married and maybe start a family but you were young and probably had so much stuff you wanted to do. she didn't wanna start anything just for it to be temporary especially not with a girl as sweet as you. but now abby is sweating at the thought of having to ask you to stay afterwards to help her with some documents that she was slacking on.

your amazing because you agree immediately even though you question why she didn't bring these documents to your attention sooner. abby is embarrassed and insists on staying behind and helping you.

being in a room with abby at night is like a wet dream. you sit with her in her office at 8 at night as you look over important documents and inventory. you sit side by side when you glance over at her, you didn't even notice that she took her hair out her bun, rubbing her fingers through her scalp. you stare at the side of her face while she reads something on her computer and you can't help yourself when you reach your hand out and tuck a piece of hair that was obstructing your view of her face.

she looks over at you and sees the soft expression you have as your eyes move around her face. "you're beautiful," you mumble, trailing your thumb over her face gently. "thank you," she mumbles back. you continue to stare at each other before one of your phones ding, snatching abby's attention from your face.

"um, i can finish up here," she looks at the time and look back over at you, "there's not much left to do here." she stands up grabbing your coat for you. you stand after her, terrified that you have ruined something that you weren't even sure was there. that was until abby gave you a genuine smile and helped you put your jacket on. you try not to sigh in relief when she askes to walk you to the car.

she walks you to your car and opens the door for you and closing it when your in. you roll your window down and start the car looking over at the abby who had her hand on the roof of your car. she bends down and rests her arms on your window, "thank you for helping me tonight. drive safe, ok?"

goodness, she's using that soft tone with you again so you just nod and smile. she smiles back and walks back into the building. you drive away smiling at the memory of abby's face illuminated by the lamp in the office and her soft hair flowing down her back.

.ೃ࿐

"are you coming?" manny is leaning over the counter that your working at staring down at you expectedly. "what?" you were working which you assumed manny was supposed to be doing as well. "are you coming to the out with us tonight?" he repeats his question and you glance over at abby who is wiping oil off her hands.

"who's going?" you continue to work, feigning disinterest. "all of us, boss, owen, nora and me of course."

"um yea, ill go." you give him a quick smile before getting back to what you were doing. manny hits the counter backing away, "great!"

your not sure what you expected from tonight, you like your coworkers but this is your first time hanging out outside of work. everyone is sitting in the booth telling silly stories in the loud bar. your quietly listening nursing your drink glancing up at abby occasionally who is sitting across from you.

she has a beer in her hand giggling at her friends drunk antics adding to the conversation every once in the while. she glances at you and catches you eye, "are you ok?" she mouths to you. you nod and give a tense smile, its way too loud and hot and you want to get away. you guess abby can sense that because she motions over the bar and you nod.

"we'll be back. getting more drinks." she gestures to both of your empty cups. she stands and waits for you to do the same and when you do she places her hand on your lower back steering you towards the bar. abby orders your drinks and nods over to a small empty table in the corner of the building. you nod and grabing her wrist, feeling bold and pull her over to the table.

"this isnt really your scene, huh?" abby starts as you settle into your seats. "no not really. way too loud." she nods sipping on her drink. you both sit quietly for a second before your gaze trail to her scarred forearms. your fingers trace her scars gently, "these are strangely beautiful." you glance up at her face seeing her eyes already on your face.

abby's fingers twitch as your soft hand wrap around her arm pulling it closer to yourself. your fingers trail softly up her arm until you get to her fingers you play with them for a second before intertwining your fingers together. you both tighten your grips on each others hand then you bring her hand to your face. you rub your cheek against her knuckles looking her in the eye.

abby's mind won't stop racing, she should pull away; she shouldn't be letting you do this but the look on your face and the way your looking at her she can't bring herself to do it. but then you pull her back to reality when you place soft, lingering kiss on her knuckles.

"shit," she mutters before pulling her hand out of your grip. normally you would've dropped it, but you've been drinking and you know that abby wants you and you want her. you get out of your seat taking the seat next to her. you turn your body towards her, "why won't you kiss me?" you ask staring at her lips.

abby's lips part as she watches the pout that forms on your lips. "i..i want to," she whispers leaning closer so you can hear her, "but i can't... i shouldn't."

"why not?" you whisper back. "i want you to."

"i want to. but im afraid ill want more than just a kiss if i do."

"then you can have more than just a kiss," you scoot closer to her leaning closer to her face. "i want more with you and im not talking about just sex, i want you." you look into her eyes hoping that she can see how sincere you are. she shakes her head, "your young, you don't need to be tied down by someone my age."

"that's not your choice to make alone. im telling you i want to be with you, tie me down. i want to see you look at me like this everyday and not just a work, i wanna hear that beautiful voice in the morning and run my fingers through your hair." you grab abby's face with both hands making her look at you.

she stares at you with a look of desperation and adoration. she grabs your hand that pressed against her face kissing the inside of your palm and you pull her into a kiss.

abby kisses you with so much passion like shes been dreaming of this moment. she places her hands on your waist, just wanting to touch you, "can i take you to my place?" she whispers against your lips. you nod enthusiastically already standing with your jacket, taking abby's hand and leading her to the door.

arriving at abby's house was a surreal experience. walking through her kitchen and living room felt like you were getting a peak into her world. her home is kind of bare of any decoration but its just so her. book shelves in the living room and books on the coffee table, a cd collection someone would probably kill for, dishes in the sink; the kind of neglect someone who lives alone commits.

but it smells like her, like a fall candle and a long day of work. "im sorry for the mess." she says moving things around with an embarrassed chuckle. "its alright." you smile at her placing your hand on her shoulder. "can i kiss you now?" you ask abby when she sits down on her couch. she nods and you kiss her for the second time that night.

you straddle her thigh, placing your hand on the side of her neck with your other on her arm squeezing the muscle that's there. abby's hand creeps over your back and under your shirt. you arch your back into her when her big cold hands slide up your spine. you whimper in her mouth, when her other hand grabs your waist.

you pull away first, panting hard, looking at abby with swollen lips when you hurriedly take your shirt off before diving back into your passionate kiss. she pulls back from the kiss wanting to be able to take you in for a second. her eyes look over your figure with so much desire and longing. "shit." she mumbles, her hands settle on your naked waist before they run over your stomach and up to your bra covered breast.

your hands under her shirt. "off, please." you whisper lifting the shirt over her head and she lets you pull it off and starts unbuttoning your pants. "take these off baby. i wanna taste you." she says looking you in your eyes, pulling your pants down as you stand over her. your hands clutch her shoulders as she stands up with you in her arms walking to her bedroom.

you place feverish kisses on her neck as she makes her way. you are dropped on your back on the the soft surface of her bed. she flips you on your stomach pulls you to the end of the bed before propping your hips up so your ass is in the air. she kisses down your lower back to your thighs. "this ok?" she askes you. you look back at her with your face pressed into the bed and nod with a hum, as she pulls your under wear off and uses her thumbs to spread you open.

you moan as abby licks your clit before sticking her tongue in you. you try to fuck yourself on her tongue before she pulls away, placing a kiss on your clit before rolling it around with her tongue, she pushes two fingers into you. you tremble and reach behind you to grab her hand that's gripping your ass. "baby, omg dont stop!" abby's not even sure if you meant to call her that but it sounds so good coming from you.

"say it again, princess," she stands up pressing her front against her back. she doesn't stop fucking you with her fingers and she rubs her thumb over your clit, "you like it?" you hump at her hand, "yes yes, i love it, baby." you lift your head peering at her face with your mouth hanging open, lewd sounds coming out.

abby presses kisses to the back of your neck as you cum on her fingers. she watches as your body shutters when you peer into each others eyes. she feels a burst of pride in being able to get you to come undone like that. hearing the way you talked to her was enough for her as she settles on her back trying to pull you to snuggle with her.

"what are you doing?" you ask her sitting on your knees. "oh im sorry. i shouldn't have assumed you would want to stay-" you cut abby off, "no no, its your turn." you say resting your hands on her pants buckle. "you don't have to."

"why wouldn't i?" you look at her confused. abby wasn't expecting to get anything back from you, most of the time women just took from abby, never wanting to give back but she should've known that wasn't you. your everything she has ever wanted. so she nods as she leans against her pillow and you pull her pants down.

you place your hands on her thighs obviously enjoying the thick, hard muscles under your hands. you kiss the inside of her thighs, biting them slightly; abby groans at the sight. you wrap your arms around her thighs before looking up at her and resting your head against her thigh. "you're beautiful."

abby cant help but blush at the compliment when you begin to slide her underwear off. you kiss around where she wants you before you suck on her clit, rolling it around with your tongue. abby whines and places her hand against the back of your head. "your such a good girl," she gasp out as her hips buck up into your face, "your always such a good girl."

your tongue slips into her hole and your nose bumps her clit just right so she rides and humps your face trying desperately to get off. she repeats your name over and over peering down at those beautiful round eyes. her hips start to jerk and you run your hands over her thighs as she rides out her high on your tongue.

"your so perfect." she whispers in astonishment. "im gonna tie you down, mama."

[rafesaddiction]

It's not cheating when he's your best friend – Rafe Cameron x Reader

See here for part 2

Summary: You and your best friend Rafe want to watch some movies together, but your jealous boyfriend keeps calling you and makes you cry. Rafe takes care of you.

Concept: best friends, one bed

Warnings: mdni! – smut, fingering, sex, p in v, cheating (reader cheats on boyfriend), jealousy, hints at toxic relationship, name calling (reader is called slut), protective!rafe, but also kinda mean!rafe

Word count: 3.9k

“Now what has the dick done this time?”

“His name is Nick and you know that,” you punched your best friend against his chest, causing him to mouth an “ouch!” and rub the spot you had hit, pretending to be hurt, though you knew even if you'd tried, you could not actually hurt him. He was so much stronger than you. And hitting him with your fist, you just felt his hard muscles and actually hurt your own hand a little.

“Whatever. He's a dick for sure,” Rafe shrugged, reached over you to grab the popcorn. His arm brushed your chest, just hardly touching your shirt, and weirdly it made you shiver.

You frowned at Rafe who had already turned his face towards the TV screen again. You were sitting next to him on the floor in front of his bed. Sure it wasn't as comfortable as if you had been sitting on the bed, but it was kind of your thing. Yours and Rafe's. When you were kids you used to do that all the time, sit as close to the TV screen as possible, because “it was like going to the movies”, the screen seemed so much bigger. Now the screen was actually huge, it still felt bigger sitting on the floor and looking up. You kind of felt like kids again, even though you were both adults now. It was a feeling of nostalgia, something you hadn't known you had missed that much.

It had been a while since you had done this, just a movie night with your best friend since childhood. Though your college wasn't that far away from the island, you had hardly seen Rafe in the last couple of months. And you'd missed this, hanging out with your best friend. Watching a movie marathon – Rafe had picked tonight's movies: all four John Wick films. And even though you had rolled your eyes when Rafe told you, you had to admit the movies were actually fun to watch. And you enjoyed yourself, eating popcorn, sitting next to each other, chatting or just watching in silence when a scene got extremely exciting.

You enjoyed yourself more than you had in a while. And you were so glad that you had agreed to spending time with Rafe before you would have to drive back to college the next day.

Well, you had enjoyed yourself, until your phone just wouldn't keep quiet. You had it on silent, but you could see the screen blinking. And you couldn't ignore it, because it might be important.

It was your boyfriend who had been texting you. And you hated to leave him on read, so you replied. But he didn't stop. You told him – again – you would call him later, you were watching movies with your best friend. His answer wasn't what you had hoped for.

You were just typing back when Rafe asked you what your boyfriend had done.

You really didn't want to talk about it, you wanted to relax, not think about your boyfriend or college or the next day when you would have to return, not think about how much you had missed just being yourself in the company of your best friend.

But your phone kept ringing. Your boyfriend was now calling you. You sighed.

You saw Rafe glancing at you sideways.

You should just put your phone away, and ignore it. But you were already too upset to enjoy the movie.

So you got up.

“I gotta take this,” you told Rafe, pointing at your phone, and you didn't even wait for his reply, but went to the adjoining bathroom and closed the door behind you.

You took a deep breath before answering the phone.

“Hi babe, I—” But your boyfriend didn't let you finish. He started talking right away, though it wasn't actually talking, he was yelling at you. He was furious that you had ignored him. You tried to explain, but he wouldn't listen.

“Why haven't you told me who you are meeting?”

“I didn't think it was such a big deal. Rafe's my best friend, you know that. I've known him since forever…”

Your boyfriend went to high school with you, so he knew who Rafe Cameron was. And he had never gotten along with him. Which was okay, because you only started dating at college. And that was when you found out that he hated your best friend. But since you hardly ever saw Rafe, he was never really a topic in your relationship. Until now.

“Don't think I'm stupid, y/n. He's not just a friend. He's Rafe Cameron.”

“But he is my friend!” You had tried to keep quiet, but your emotions were in turmoil. You didn't know how it had happened, but you were almost feeling angry.

“A friend who wants to fuck you. But that's what you want, huh? You just wanna be one of his dumb sluts? He's using you!”

Tears filled your eyes and you couldn't hold them back at his harsh words.

“That's not true,” your voice sounded weak and you sobbed.

He wouldn't listen. He just accused you of these ridiculous things, calling you names, and then he just hung up. You tried to call him back, but the call went straight to voice mail.

Your mind was racing, your heart was beating so fast, you felt it would explode in your chest. Tears were running down your cheeks, but you didn't even care to wipe them from your face when you left the bathroom to return to Rafe's bedroom.

He was still sitting on the floor in front of the bed. The movie was paused, you noticed from the silence in the room, and it kind of touched you that he had been so considerate to pause the movie, so you wouldn't miss a scene.

He looked up at you, but you tried to avoid his gaze as you walked closer.

“I need to go,” you said, hardly audibly.

“What?” Rafe frowned at you. “Dicky calls and you come running?”

For a moment, you wondered if he was hurt. After all, you had promised to spend time with him, watch a John Wick marathon. And you hadn't seen him for so long.

“I can't do this now,” you sniffled and shook your head. You couldn't deal with your best friend's hurt feelings too now, even though you felt bad. But you needed to leave now, you needed to make things right with your boyfriend.

You reached down to pick up your bag that was lying on the floor next to Rafe, when he suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you down. You let out a surprised gasp as you fell right onto his lap, where he caught you, where he held you.

You struggled and tried to get up.

“Let me go, asshole,” you punched his shoulder, but Rafe only held you closer in both his arms.

“What now? I'm the asshole, but he makes you cry?”

Rafe grabbed your jaw, making you look at him when you tried to turn your face away.

“Let me go,” you said, blinking tears away.

“Only when you tell me what's going on. What has he done to you?”

You tried to shake your head, struggling to get up, but he was stronger, so much stronger, and the way he held you, held you like he would never let go off you, you became overwhelmed by your emotions, no longer able to get your act together, instead of pushing away, you now clung to your best friend. You buried your face at the crook of his neck, and he held you. Tears were soaking his shirt and he caressed your hair. You were shaking and trembling and sobbing, and Rafe pulled you closer.

This side of him wasn't new to you, but no one else knew him like this, caring, protecting. And you had only seen him like this on few occasions. And it was like your body reacted to his. Though your feelings were still in turmoil, your shaking had stopped, your crying became quieter. Your hands were still clinging to the fabric of his shirt.

He was quiet and you could just feel his calm breathing, when you got quieter yourself after some time. He did not say anything, did not urge you. And you felt so comfortable. So safe. And you realized that you hadn't felt like this in months. You hadn't felt like this since you left.

You were only sobbing quietly after a while and moved your head back, to gaze at your best friend.

He looked at you, and on his lips was a little smile, as if he was looking at something precious.

You suddenly became very aware of his gaze.

“Don’t look at me. I look like a mess,” you cast your eyes down.

“Hot mess,” he said softly and you felt your cheeks flushing.

You tried to punch his chest, but he caught your fist in his hand, wrapping it around it, holding it. This time, you didn't try to struggle and pull it away, you felt this warmth from the closeness, not just surrounding your hand. You looked up from his big hand holding yours to his face, finding his eyes still on you.

“You're fucking beautiful and if he doesn't make you feel that way, he doesn't deserve you.”

An incredible heat was rushing to your face and you knew you were blushing crimson.

“You only say that because you’re my best friend.”

“I shouldn't say that because I am your best friend…”

Your lips opened at his words, but instead of speaking you only breathed in. And you could feel his breath on your face, on your lips. You closed your mouth and unconsciously your tongue touched your lips, as if trying to feel something there.

His blue eyes looked at you, so intensely, you could almost feel them on you.

His fingers moved and he was caressing your hand still in his. It was such a light movement, such a delicate touch, but it sent waves of electricity through your body. This tingling sensation made you restless and your body wriggled in his arms, making you well aware of the fact that you were sitting in his lap. You inhaled sharply.

“I should go,” you mumbled and tried to get up.

Rafe held you tighter, his hand around your fist pressed against is chest. His other arm around your back.

“Rafe, let me go,” you urged.

“Only when you tell me what he's done to you.”

“Nothing.”

You shook your head, but Rafe suddenly gripped your jaws again, and this time so hard, it hurt a little. He looked at you, his eyes narrowed, a frown on his forehead and his voice was so stern, so commanding, it made you shiver.

“What did he say to you? Tell me now.”

You looked down with your eyes but somehow you couldn't refuse his command.

“He called me a dumb slut and said you just wanted to use me.”

There was silence, a cold, icy silence. You watched his face.

His brows furrowed, his nostrils flared, his jaws clenched.

“I'm gonna kill him.”

You saw his eyes darken, his handsome features grew tense. And even though you were sure that he didn't mean what he said, you felt a shiver running down your spine, because he kind of looked as if he meant it.

He was about to get up, and you were slipping from his lap in that motion. But you clung to him.

“No, Rafe, don't!”

And even though you were weaker than him, your hands pressed on his broad shoulders and you somehow managed to push him down, so he remained seated and you found yourself straddling his lap now.

His chest was rising and falling, as if from exhaustion. His hands found your hips and you felt you were panting too. Suddenly feeling so hot and restless.

“I'm gonna go,” you said, but you didn't get up.

“I can't let you drive like this. You’re a bad driver anyway, and you'll surely crash into some tree or something when you drive in this state.”

You frowned at his words.

“But I need to get back to college in the morning.”

You felt his hands grip your hips firmer, even though you didn't try to move.

“You can just stay the night and drive in the morning after you've rested.”

It wouldn't be the first night you spent at your best friend's. Though it had been a while.

“Rose is redecorating the guest room – again. You can't sleep in there. But you can sleep in my bed, I'll sleep on the floor.”

“But –”

“No buts.”

And that and the stern look on his face shut you up.

You weren't in the mood to continue watching the movie marathon and it was late anyway, so you decided to go to sleep. Rafe gave you one of his t-shirts to wear for the night, and you went into the bathroom to change and wash your face. It was a warm night, so you only wore the t-shirt over your panties, it was way too big for you, but it was extremely comfortable.

When you returned to the bedroom, you found Rafe putting a blanket on the floor next to the bed, making some make-shift bed. He was just wearing boxer briefs, and even though the light was dim, you could see his well-defined body clearly. You'd seen him like this before, of course. Like when you had been at the beach or swimming in the pool. Yet somehow, seeing him in his underwear felt different, more intimate.

You stood there, hands clutching the hem of the oversized t-shirt at your thighs. And you looked at him when he straightened up and turned towards you.

You felt his eyes travelling over your body and you quickly started moving towards the bed.

“What are you doing there?”

Rafe tilted his head. You pointed at the floor.

“You don't have to sleep on the floor. Your bed is big enough for the two of us. This is ridiculous.”

“Yeah, maybe I don't want to get hit when you're tossing and turning in your sleep?”

“I did that once! When I was eight!”

“Once was enough. And it really hurt when you punched my ribs in your sleep. So, no thank you. I'll take the floor.”

Rafe took a pillow from the bed and was about to set it on the floor when you grabbed his arm, to get that pillow back.

“You're stupid. This is stupid!”

You frowned at him, pulled at his arm, to get the pillow, and in your struggling with him, he must have lost balance, because you suddenly found yourself on your back on the bed and Rafe was lying on top of you. That pillow still in his hand, your hand around his wrist, with his arm and yours above your head on the bed.

You looked up at him, your face just an inch away from his. You could hardly see his features, but you felt the proximity, felt it so intensely. Felt that heat that was radiating from his body, felt it crawling over your skin. You felt the weight of his body on yours. And your breathing got harder.

You felt him shift, just a bit, on top of you, as if trying not to crush you and you inhaled and his scent filled your lungs.

You felt a light touch on your cheek. The fingertips of his free hand caressed your face.

“I'll sleep in the bed with you, if you promise me not to cry over that douchebag anymore,” his voice low, as he spoke those words, moving his lips so close hovering over yours. His eyes held your gaze. You nodded softly. And he got up and you exhaled a breath you didn't know you were holding in.

You kept lying on your back, just for some seconds, unable to move, still feeling his fingertips on your cheek, his body's weight pressing you down, feeling dizzy all of a sudden.

But then the bed tilted and you looked to the side, seeing that Rafe was getting into the bed, and you moved to make room for him.

You lay on your side, facing him as he pulled the blanket over you. His face once again close to yours, just for some seconds.

“Night, y/n.”

“Good night, Rafe.”

He turned on his back and switched off the lights. You turned to the other side and closed your eyes, focused on his breathing. You felt your own heart beating so rapidly at first, but after some time, you got calmer and were able to relax.

You must have fallen asleep, because when you woke up, you felt Rafe's body close behind yours, his arm loosely wrapped around you. You smelled his dark scent so intensely, felt his heat getting under your shirt. You felt his breath at the back of your head and a light shiver was running down your spine.

“Rafe?” You softly whispered his name, but he must have been fast asleep. He didn't answer, didn't move.

Carefully you placed your hand on his, your fingertips feeling along his long fingers.

He didn't move. His breathing still so calm.

His chest was pressing against your back and you could feel his regular heartbeat. It felt so familiar. You felt so safe.

And yet you couldn't stay still.

You bit your lips and moved, just a bit, arching your back, moving your butt back, pressing it against his crotch.

His breathing remained calm, telling you, he was still asleep, still unaware of what you were doing.

And you moved your butt just a little bit more and you felt him, felt him so prominently, you gasped in surprise. That tingling you felt turned into something hotter and you felt your core pulsing all of a sudden. You were breathing through your opened mouth as you felt this heat rushing through your body.

But Rafe was still breathing calmly, he was still asleep.

You felt him stir behind you, felt how hard he was, poking against your ass.

His palm was on your lower stomach. You felt it move under your hand. His calm breathing so close to your ear.

His hand moved down, moved over the fabric of the t-shirt you were wearing, and the pressure made you gasp and push back a little more.

You let go off his hand, but grasped the sheets. You tried to calm your breathing, but you were panting as you felt his fingers move under your shirt, felt his warm touch on your burning skin.

You couldn't see anything but you pressed your eyes shut nonetheless as his fingers slipped into your panties. They touched your heat, touched your most sensitive parts.

You let out a small whimper and your back arched further.

You listened, but he was so calm, so still, as if he was still asleep, and only his fingers were moving. And they moved between your legs. His fingers gently parting your folds.

You pressed your mouth shut, but you were sure that embarrassingly whining sound could be heard in the darkness of the room.

His fingertip rubbed your pearl and your body reacted, tensing up as you felt this incredible hot need literally throbbing.

You felt his breath so close to your ear and it sent a different kind of shiver through your body.

One finger slipped inside you, and you clenched around it hard. But he pushed deeper and you gasped. And you didn't know how but you were so wet, it made it easy for him to add another finger, though you pressed your legs tightly together.

For a moment, his digits just remained there, inside you, not moving. So very still like the rest of his body.

Then you felt his hard cock pressing against your ass, the length between your cheeks. And as if following some instinct, you rocked your hips, rubbed against him, creating more friction, creating more heat that made you shiver.

His fingers started moving inside you, pushing deeper, curling, and finding a spot that made you outright moan, and unable to suppress that sound.

His thumb pressed hard on your pearl, teasing you and sending hot bolts of pure need through your body. And your body was on heat, there was no other way to describe it. Every cell of your body was aching for his touch now. And he touched you, so good, so intensely, so determined.

You were moaning and whimpering as his fingers opened you up, made you spread your legs, urging him to go deeper, pushing against his thrusts, and pressing against his hardness.

You felt your climax building up quickly as his fingers pushed harder, moved deeper and more ruthlessly inside you, taking you.

You felt his hot lips on your neck as you pushed your head back, your body convulsing. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, but you weren't sure if you were trying to stop him – or if you even could.

His thumb rubbing your most sensitive pearl, making you clamp your walls around his fingers, you couldn't have stopped it, it was almost as if he was forcing that orgasm into you and you gave in, gave in willingly and with everything you had, everything you were, letting that wave of pure pleasure roll over you. Moaning shamelessly, your body trembling as his fingers fucked you through an overwhelming climax.

You lay there, panting, sweat covering your body, and you were still feeling dizzy from the aftermath of that amazing orgasm, when you felt a shiver of cold. He lifted the blanket off of you. And before you could ask why, you felt his hand on your thigh and he lifted up your leg. And before you could wonder what he was up to, you felt his fingers push your soaking wet panties to the side. And before you could really grasp what was going on, you felt his hard cock push inside you from behind.

You cried out as you were stretched by his thickness.

His hand covered your mouth, muffling your cries, as he pushed deeper, pushed his whole length into you. You felt like he was splitting you in two, he was so big, pushing so hard, but at the same time this was all you wanted, all your body was craving for.

Your body shook from his hard thrusts, and he wrapped his arm around you, holding you close, making you feel his rapid heartbeat, making you feel him, so intensely, you forgot where you ended and where he began. You felt as if you were melting into him as he took you with long hard thrusts, took you as if you were only his.

And when you felt his hot cum spilling inside you, your body convulsed so hard around him, making him gasp into your ear and you came again, and he was fucking you through another high, this time not as fierce, but even more intense as you felt this connection with him, something you had never felt before.

You were still panting and your body was trembling as he rolled you around and took you in his arms. His lips kissing your face, tasting your sweat, tasting your tears.

“You're one of my sluts now.”

You froze as you heard his dark whisper.

“What?” You moved your head back to look at him though it was too dark to make out his features.

“I said, go back to sleep now,” he said, softly. And kissed your forehead, before cradling you in his strong arms. Your head resting against his shoulder, as he held you. Held you close.

a/n: Thank you for reading. This was probably much sweeter than what I usually write. I hope you enjoyed it. All feedback is very much appreciated.

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

warning: yandere and obsessive behavior, mentions of death and violence, possessiveness

Yandere!Angel adored you with all of his heart, worshipping you as his goddess. He abandoned his creator, instead turning to you.

He kissed along your thighs, his strong, large hands holding onto your plump thighs as he spread them open.

He always looked up at you for permission, his chin resting on your leg obediently. Despite the fact he was nearly twice your height, he acted like a needy puppy before you, willing to do anything to please you.

“May I?”

You nodded, sighing happily as his tongue licked your soft, fat pussy, his fingers pumping in and out of you.

As he settled between your thighs, ready to worship his goddess, he began to remember how this all came to be.

He was supposed to be working on earth, helping guide humans to the correct path and keep them from sinning.

Instead, he ended up getting hurt, stranded on the side of the road with a broken wing.

He hadn’t been told how cruel humans could be.

So when you pulled over in your car, running up to him, he attempted to spread out his wings in a defensive display, his eyes shining bright enough to blind a man.

But his eyes dimmed and he yelped in pain as his broken wing moved. He fell back onto the ground, panting softly, looking up at you weakly.!

“Hey, hey…”

You knelt down, reaching out carefully to inspect his wing.

“Don’t touch me!”

You flinched, frozen in fear, his power causing you to be unable to move.

An angel’s command worked only on those pure of heart… so for a moment to examined you.

Soft and chubby with a kind face, like the cherubs he played with in heaven. As you did your best to bandage his wing, you noticed he was nearly twice the size of you… and very handsome.

“I won’t hurt you, I promise. See, it’s feeling better isn’t it?”

The angel watched you, his eyes wide with curiosity and wonder as you dabbed some soothing cream onto his swollen skin. You were being so gentle with him, guiding him back to your car.

The way you kept him flush against you, being as gentle as possible to make sure his wounds wouldn’t be irritated made him feel… strange.

He barely fit in your backseat, having to lie down so you could close the door.

“… thank you…”

He nuzzled softly against you, his undamaged wing flapping. “You saved me… you’re so kind, like an angel… like…”

You turned to see him staring at you, his eyes big. The golden orbs observed with newfound interest, watching as you grabbed a med kit to further clean and treat his wounds.

‘Like a goddess…’ he thought to himself, not daring to say such blasphemy aloud.

As he began to recover, you noticed him staring, following you with his eyes every time you moved.

“Need something?”

He quickly looked away, his cheek flushing a soft pink. His wing fluttered in both nervousness and excitement.

“I… don’t need anything.”

It didn’t take him long to heal, his body was different than any human or animal, but… he still feigned pain when you touched his now healed wing.

“Ah, it still hurts?”

You soothed him, letting him nuzzle into you and look at you with those big golden eyes. He was utterly entranced, wanting to worship and adore you… no one had ever been so kind to him!

So that’s how he ended up like this, begging for you to use him, to order him around and to let him love and protect you for all of time.

The only catch was… he was the only one allowed to worship the temple that was your body.

He pulled his fingers from your wet cunt, his tongue struggling to part with your puffy clit. It wasn’t easy, but he knew from your whines and tugging on his pants that you wanted his cock now.

And he would give you anything…

He pushed his cock past your wet folds, stretching you on him. The first time he worshipped you this way, he cried with you as your body tried its best to accommodate his large size. He hated seeing you in pain…

Your pretty, ample breasts bounced deliciously as he moved his hips, unable to stop himself from fucking you like a wild animal.

God you were perfect, his angel, his goddess… and no one would ever get to see the look of ecstasy on your face when you came.

A warm bath had you sighing in relief after, your angel happily bathing you, kissing your feet and scrubbing your body as gently as possible.

Though it was difficult keeping his jealously at bay… being with him wasn’t too hard. If only you knew how many men he had killed due to his possessive nature…

You’d never even think he was capable. He was an angel after all, with soft blonde curls and the prettiest, most innocent golden eyes.

And he wanted you to remain ignorant to his second nature. He much preferred worshipping you while you were relatively free and happy…

But he’d lock you up if it meant keeping you to himself~

The angel settled you down with him after your bath, covering you with his soft, feathery white wings. He kept you close to his chest, kissing your head.

Everything was just perfect.

For now…

(More?)

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @midromiell @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog

[wild-jackalope]

summary :: the times things went wrong during sex! Featuring my favs; Gojo, Choso, Yuji, Megumi and Toge.

warning :: sex, awkward sex (it happens), safe sex!

note :: all characters are of age!

Satoru (the sound)

The two of you had been going for some time, your third round of the night. Satoru had done a particularly good job in making you utterly wet, which was now the cause of your chest threatening to burst with laughter.

Whenever Satoru buried himself deep in you, it caused an odd kind of squelching noise. You placed your hand over your mouth, giggling against it.

Satoru had come to a gradual halt, noticing your puffs weren’t the moaning kind. “You’re laughing?” He asked in a tone that conveyed he was judging your juvenile sense of humour.

“I’m sorry, it’s just funny! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the mood. Please continue.” It’d only taken a moment of silence before you laughed again, now joined by Satoru.

“Jeez, you’re stupid.”

Choso (too long)

It had been around 20 minutes, Choso was still panting against your neck with his dick buried deep inside you, rutting against your insides.

You’d already reached your climax 10 minutes ago, so now his dick felt like it was giving you an inside gut punch.

“Choso, you close?” You huffed, clawing at his back.

“Almost there, my love.”

You whined, staring up at the ceiling and debating how much longer you could keep up. You’d already tried clenching around him, but hadn’t seemed to help and making out only made him slow down to appreciate your kisses.

You tapped on his shoulder, sighing gratefully when he slowed to a stop.

“Can we take a break? I’m feeling a little raw.”

His eyes seemed to widen with the realisation and he slipped out of you. “I’m so sorry for not noticing.”

“No no, it’s fine baby just give me a little bit and I’ll be okay.”

Yuji (no protection)

You’d been making out for at least an hour, with Yuji’s body pushing you into his mattress and his hands cupping your rounded curves.

He’d barely even broken from your lips to pull out his desk drawer and feel around for a condom. However his hand failed to brush against any wrappers.

“Fuck, I forgot to buy my condoms.”

“Are you serious?”

The two of you were well horny by now, each reeling from the effects of arousal.

Yuji eyed you carefully, face flushed and expression needy. You leaned back into the bed defensively.

“We’re not doing it raw.” You stated. He exhaled sharply.

“I know, I know. Damn.”

Megumi (came quickly)

You straddled him, sliding carefully onto his cock before relaxing at his base. This was a position neither of you had tried before, both your excitement was palpable from the way his dick twitched and how your pussy gushed.

He breathed sharply, fingers digging into your thighs holding you still. He needed to pace himself, otherwise this would be over too soon.

Playfully, you clenched your walls around him.

“Shit.”

His hips bucked into you, humping out his orgasm. You felt warm cum pool into the condom, causing you to shiver. “Already?” You asked.

He only responded by palming his face, covering his embarrassment from you.

“You must really like me topping you.” You grinned, kissing the hand that covered his face.

“Shut up.”

Toge (poor communication)

“You want…”

“Bonito flakes.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, face red and utterly flustered. “Crap. This is really hard. I can’t tell what you want me to do.”

He wanted you to relax and not overthink things.

“I don’t know where I can touch you. Do you even want me to touch you? Do you even want to have sex?” You asked, fretting that you had gotten the wrong idea.

Toge rolled his eyes. One would think him making out with you until your lips were red raw and touching every sensitive part of your body was a good indicator that yes, he did want to have sex. “Salmon.”

His answer only further worried you. So instead of attempting to talk, Toge took your hand and placed it on his crotch, letting you feel how hard he’d gotten.

You flushed.

“Right, I think I understand now..”

[captainamericasmotercycle]

Hiiii. I hope you are well. I would like to request a Cregan Stark x reader where they’re newlyweds and Cregan is doing everything he can to get reader to like him as she barely talks to him and keeps to herself because her mother basically told her to not expect him to be a kind gentle husband like the ones she’s read in books. The two slowly grow close once reader sees the effort Cregan has been putting in. Thank you!

i've never written for cregan before so i hope i did him justice <3

warnings: uncomfortable talk of women? (from your mother and sisters), you are his first wife (rickon doesn't exist yet), canon divergent, reader's family is not specified

a/n: this could possibly have a second part... all feedback is welcomed!!

When the news broke that Lord Cregan Stark was looking to take a new wife, your father was not hesitant to offer up your hand.

Your family resided close to the North, and your father needed Lord Stark as an ally in case any conflict arose suddenly. Within only a single moon, Lord Stark agreed to take you to wed.

It was not in your plans to be forced into a marriage, but rather find someone to love and live a long and prosperous life with.

"You know he is not going to be kind, not like the silly tales you read of," your mother, of course, prepared you for your impending doom of a marriage, as she implied.

You wanted to die. If only you were not a high-born lady, you could choose your fate.

"You cannot expect him to tend to you every moment of the day, at all even," you remember your older sisters joining the two of you, helping you to know what will become of you.

"He will take you as he wishes, and you will comply."

"You will lay with him until he finds pleasure and discards of you."

"But.. will I find pleasure?"

They laughed at you, both of your sisters and your mother. You did not wish to be trapped in a loveless marriage.

"No, if anything, he will find some cheap whore to busy himself with, until it is time for you to give him heirs."

"You mustn't talk to him unless spoken to first-"

"And you mustn't speak your mind, ever."

They filled your head with their advice until the day of your wedding. It was a small gathering just within the walls of Winterfell. Your family attended, as well as Cregan's uncle, a couple members of his council, and his half siblings.

During the post-ceremony celebration, you stayed timid, smiling gently whenever Cregan looked at you, or when your mother sent a pointed expressed to you.

You watched your brother, brothers-in-law, and father, eager to drink, but Cregan refrained.

Cregan tried to hold your hand, or lay his hand over your knee, succeeding in doing so, but you shied away from his touch, your body freezing up.

At the end of the night, the celebration winded down and you retreated to your new chambers, apart from Cregan's. You knew that he would be in to consummate the marriage soon, so you prepared yourself, trying to find a place in your head you could go to escape.

As your maidens dressed you for the night, a soft knock was heard on the door, one of your maids scurried to see who would come at such a late hour.

"My Lady Stark, it is your lord husband."

Lady Stark. Quite the title.

"Let him in, and leave us."

She and the other maids left the newlyweds as requested. He stood at the door, quite the ways away from you.

"Did you enjoy the celebration?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Please, call me Cregan, I am your husband now."

"Yes, my- Cregan," he moved slightly towards you.

"Have I done something to offend you?"

"No, my lord."

"Cregan. And are you sure?"

"Yes, Cregan. I apologize, husband if I have not been attentive enough. I can be better, I promise. I can be a good wife," you begged him.

He said your name softly, seeing the utter fear in your eyes, "You have been perfect; there is no need for you to upset yourself."

"Have you come to consumate the marriage?"

"I figured you were too tired. Do you want to?"

You were taken aback by his question, you hadn't expected him to ask about you.

"I- I think I would prefer to rest," you bowed your head at him.

"As you wish, wife. I will see you in the morn," he walked to you and gently kissed the top of your head, then retreated to his own quarters.

-

The morn came and you were still not talking to him. Maybe you were just nervous to be away from your home is all and you just wanted some time to adjust to your new life.

Weeks passed and he tried to talk to you, but you only answered him with short responses. This worried him, what had he done to hurt you?

He decided to send you a new pelt, incase you wished to explore the gardens or the outside walls of Winterfell. He hoped to hear from you about the gift, but no word came back except for a thank you from your maid.

He did not understand why you would not talk to him. He began sending flowers almost every morn with your meal, he gifted you a horse, (which you had not even attempted to see since the first time he showed you), and he even went as far as obtaining you a direwolf pup as a wedding gift. The pup became as reclused as you.

He became frustrated with his failed attempts to connect with you, sulking around Winterfell, and it was very apparent in his commands.

He hadn't taken a trip to the wall in weeks, and he commanded his men to finish outrageous requests; lashing out at anyone who questioned him or seemed to breathe the wrong way.

You had not been eager to seek him out or talk to him, not even trying to leave the walls of Winterfell to explore the nearing city; just staying in the comfort of the castle's library and your chambers.

He wanted to see you, to build a bond with his new wife, but most of the time he was unable to find you; it seemed that you were hiding from him.

After almost a moon of short interactions and dodging his every move, he was ready to beg, luckily he finally cornered you in your chambers.

Instead of a maid coming to fetch you for supper, Cregan insisted that he go instead. He pushed open your doors, finding you sitting with a book near the window, your much larger direwolf pup at your feet

Your head shot up at the sudden noise, louder than you were used to at this hour. You set down your book, ready to stand at his presence, but he stalked over to you rather quickly.

He dropped to his knees at your feet, startling you, he stated your name, "Please tell me what I have done, I wish to see you, to speak to you."

"You have done nothing, husband. I will speak if you wish it."

"No! I want you to speak freely, what has made you shy away from me? I am trying to know you, to love you. Please, just tell me!"

Your gaze softened, "You want to love me?"

His face changed to confusion, "Of course. Have I dont something to make you assume otherwise?"

"Not you..."

"Who. Tell me. I will have their tongues."

"My mother... and my sisters. They spoke that you would not be kind, that I should not speak freely near you... that you would be too busy with cheap whores to notice me until you wanted an heir."

He set his large hands on your knees, "Every word of that is so untrue. I married you because I want to love you. Let me."

You looked at his eyes, yearning in them, "I want you to love me."

He pulled you to stand with him. He tugged you by the waist into him, peppering you with kisses, one near your eyebrow, one on your cheek, one on the tip of your nose, and finally one at the corner of your mouth. You smiled at him and his actions.

"There's that smile I so desperately have been wanting to see for over a moon."

You set your hands on either side of his face, kissing his lips softly, "I'm sorry that I have been so distant, I should have seen your efforts."

"I hold no grudge against you wife, I am just happy you are giving me another chance," he kissed you again.

"Shall we go to supper?" You nodded as he took your hand.

"Good. I think my men will be pleased to hear of our reconcile. I fear I have been more than unpleasant," you kissed his jaw.

"Well, we owe them an apology don't we?"

[girlgenius1111]

casts, broken arms, & snuggles

alexia putellas x reader - part of the mila verse :)

an accident at the park pulls alexia from training and to the hospital, where she finds both her girls not doing their best. everyone is very overwhelmed with their feelings, and maybe don't handle it the way they should. basically, protective panicked alexia and insecure reader. a bit of angst / injuries / concussions symptoms, mostly fluff.

------

You knew Alexia would panic. There wasn’t much you could do about that. Especially not when the only way you had to reach her was through the staff. It was somewhat of a bad omen within the team, having a staff member walk outside with a phone call for you. It only happened in an emergency, and unfortunately, this definitely counted as an emergency. When one of the assistant coaches, Xavi, answered the phone, he seemed to be on the same page as you. 

“Try to act calm, otherwise she’ll just freak out.” 

“I am not sure there is much I can do to avoid her having a nervous breakdown.” Xavi stated. You heard him call Alexia over, and tried to shush the very upset almost 3 year old in your arms. 

“Amor, what is wrong?”Alexia asked, practically tearing the phone out of Xavi’s hand as soon as she heard who was calling. 

“Everything is fine, okay? There was just a little accident.” You began, speaking in a soothing, calming tone, the same one you’d been using on the baby. 

“What kind of accident?” 

“Meels fell at the park-” 

“¡AY DIOS MIO!” Alexia shouted. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. 

“Ale, breathe. She fell off the slide and I think her arm might be broken. She won’t let me touch it and she hasn’t stopped crying.”

“Broken?!” Alexia squeaked. 

“Ow.” Mila whimpered, frowning unhappily at her arm from where she sat in your lap. “Hurts, Mama.” 

“I know, baby.” You told her. “Ale, the ambulance is here to take us to the hospital do you-” 

“What were you doing? Were you not watching her? Why weren't you watching her, why did she fall?” Alexia snapped. 

You bit back the retort you had ready, knowing this was just a result of her fear for Mila. You weren’t happy with what she’d said, but that could be dealt with later. “We’re leaving now for the hospital. Meet us there.” You said coldly, before hanging up the phone without saying anything else. Alright, you were pretty upset, and you let it show. You had already been beating yourself up for what had happened, thinking the things that Alexia had said. 

As you and Mila got loaded into the ambulance, you realized you hadn’t mentioned something important to your wife. No doubt, she was hauling ass to the hospital, so she’d find out soon enough.

-------

Alexia burst into the room in a flutter of chaos, throwing the curtain aside and looking around frantically. Mila was sitting in your lap, holding her arm awkwardly away from her body, while you ran your fingers through her wavy brown hair and tried to keep her calm. Both of you looked at Alexia when she walked in, her panic clear on her face. She was sweaty, still in her training kit, and her eyes were only on her daughter.

“Mila, mi bebé,” she said gently, moving closer to the bed. 

“Mami!” Mila cried, a pout on her small face, holding her arm out for Alexia to see. She squirmed in your lap, trying to get closer to your wife, but you both made sure she stayed carefully where she was. 

“Pobrecita,” Alexia murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed and pressing repeated kisses to her baby’s head. She stared hard at Mila’s already swollen arm, trying to stifle her own tears. You weren’t pleased with Alexia, but you weren’t particularly upset that she hadn’t even glanced at you, her attention fully on Mila. “What happened?” 

Mila’s voice wobbled as she began to talk, reaching out with her good hand to grip onto a few of Alexia’s fingers.. “Fell! Off the slide. Mama tried to catch me, but now she has an ouchie too.” 

Alexia’s eyes flew to you, seeing for the first time the towel and large ice pack pressed to the back of your head. Her heart sank. She knew before that she would have to apologize for what she had said, and now she knew she’d have to do even more groveling. Especially if the hurt look on your face was any indication. 

“Amor,” she sighed, reaching for your hand. You pulled it away, refusing to make eye contact with her. 

“I’m fine.” You dismissed. “Mila’s got a basic fracture, just a month or so in a cast to fix it. They’ll be in to put it on soon.” 

“Mama needs stitches.” Mila whispered conspiratorially to her Mami. 

Alexia’s face grew, somehow, even more upset. “What happened, mi amor?” 

Still avoiding her eyes, you spoke quietly. “I was going to catch her at the bottom of the slide, but she stood up at the top and fell off the side.” 

“And your head?” Alexia asked, leaning closer to try and inspect your injury. Mila looked up at you with concern, her expression matching her Mami’s almost exactly. Where Alexia’s fingers were gentle as they cradled your head, Mila’s were clumsy and clunky as she tried to run her fingers through your hair. It was something you did to make her feel better, and she thought that maybe it would make your frown go away, too. 

“I tried to catch her in time, but I slipped and hit my head on the edge of the slide. And I didn’t really catch her.” You admitted, slightly embarrassed at that fact. Alexia would have caught Mila, you were sure. 

“It’s okay, Mama, you tried your best!” Mila said encouragingly, parroting back something you and Alexia must have told her a hundred times. Her arm temporarily forgotten, Mila shifted so she could lean up and press a kiss to your cheek, before she snuggled closer to your chest. 

Your wife’s eyes were stuck on your daughter, practically turning into hearts as she took in how sweet and caring her baby was. You couldn’t blame her; you felt the same. That you had created such a perfect little person would never cease to amaze you. 

“Thank you, my baby.” You mumbled, wincing slightly as you shifted, trying to keep Mila’s arm in a safe position. Every movement of your upper body sent waves of pain through your head, but you didn’t want Mila to know how upset you were. 

“Mi amor, I-”

Whatever Alexia was about to say was cut off completely as the doctor entered the room, introducing herself to your wife, and beginning to talk Mila through the process of getting the cast put on. There were some tears, wiped away quickly by her Mami, as they began to wrap up her arm. 

Once the nurses had taken over, and began adding the colored plaster to the cast, and Mila was suitably distracted, the doctor regarded you. 

“Alright, let’s get that head wound taken care of.” She said kindly, motioning you over to a chair in the corner of the room. She stood by your head, beginning to clean the wound and prepare to stitch it up.

You shut your eyes tightly, trying to keep your wincing to a minimum. Alexia watched on worriedly from her spot next to Mila, knowing how much you hated needles. The midfielder so wanted to comfort you through this, but she also didn’t want to leave Mila alone if she was still upset. So, she did what you’d spent many years helping her do, and communicated. 

“Milabear? Can I go hold your Mama’s hand while she gets her stitches?” She whispered, heart melting at how Mila looked over at you, and nodded enthusiastically. 

“Go help Mama.” She said bravely, feeling much better now that she had her red cast on her arm, and that the nurse had given her some goldfish. Mila munched away happily, her eyes trained on the TV hanging on the wall, and Alexia had never been more grateful for having such an independent and resilient child than she was in that moment. 

Your eyes were still shut, a few tears escaping as you tried very hard to act like the adult you were. You startled a bit when Alexia crouched in front of you and took your hand. Opening your eyes, you tried to breathe deeply, feeling the doctor begin to thread the needle through the skin of your scalp. A small, rather pathetic whimper fell from your lips, and Alexia brought your hand to her lips, pressing kisses to the back of it. Her adoring gaze only made more tears fall, and you felt completely ridiculous. 

“You are okay, amor. It will be over soon.” 

Every tear that fell was gently swiped away by your wife. The doctor worked as carefully as she could, but there were still tugs on your skin that had shivers running down your spine, and your stomach churning. There was only so much Alexia could do to help, but luckily, it wasn’t a very large wound, and the doctor was done within a few minutes, cutting the excess thread and reaching for a white bandage. She wrapped that around your head, holding a piece of gauze in place, which really felt like overkill. 

“Okay, done.” The doctor announced, removing her gloves and stepping away from your chair. Alexia’s earlier words forgotten, you stood shakily to your feet, allowing yourself to fall into your wife’s open arms. 

“You did so good.” She whispered, smiling despite herself at the bandage wrapped around your head. You looked adorable, frowning up at her with tears in your eyes, looking somewhat like a disgruntled mummy. 

“Mama?” Mila called from her spot on the bed. 

You wiped at your eyes quickly, plastering a smile on your face as you walked over to your daughter. “Hi Meels.” 

“All better, Mama?” She asked, reaching both of her arms out for you to pick her up, which you did easily.

“All better.” You confirmed, holding her as close as you could. 

“Almost all better.” The doctor smiled, turning to your wife. “She has a mild concussion with the impact on the ground, so she’s going to need to take it easy for a few days. I am assuming you know concussion protocol, Ms. Putellas?” 

“Yes, yes of course.” Alexia said, her eyes squinting with concern as she studied you. “I will take good care of her.” 

“Me too!” Mila added, squirming in your hold until she could loop her arms around Alexia’s neck and shift over into her arms. 

Your wife very hesitantly pulled you into her as the doctor left the room. You tilted your head to make eye contact with her, still with a small frown on your face. It was clear that you were still upset with your wife, but the determination in her eyes told you she’d do anything to fix it. 

------

Apparently, anything consisted of making you sit on the couch next to Mila, holding an ice pack to your head, and not daring to move. Your wife went from room to room, collecting anything she had determined you or Mila might need. It was endearing, but also somewhat frustrating when she’d appear to hand you something, and go flitting off before you could just ask her for what you really wanted: for her to sit on the couch with the two of you, and relax. 

Stressed Alexia made you stressed, but you knew this was just how she was coping with what had happened today. Alexia always held a lot of guilt for the little moments she missed while at work; any milestone that Mila achieved while Alexia wasn’t around was downright painful for your wife. She was a protective person, and you knew she was even more bothered because both you and Mila were hurt, and she hadn’t been there to help either of you. 

You and Mila sat side by side, heads moving back and forth like you were watching a tennis match. In fact, you were just watching Alexia disappear and reappear with Mila’s favorite toy, a blanket, your favorite sweatshirt, a snack, some water, more ice, more painkillers and 6 different pillows for Mila to rest her cast on. You were exhausted just watching her. 

She appeared back in the living room like a ghost the minute you stood up, her hands grabbing onto your shoulders and gently pushing you back down onto the couch. 

“Ale, just let me-”

“No! Sit.” Alexia insisted, ignoring the small giggle from her daughter. 

You rolled your eyes, shrugging out from under her grip and standing anyway. “Alexia, I have to go to the bathroom. You can’t do that for me.” 

Alexia had the decency to blush, at least. “Okay. I’ll walk you there.” She decided, grabbing your hand and beginning to escort you to the bathroom. Honestly. 

Always her mother’s shadow, Mila got up too, and grabbed your other hand. “Mami I can-”

“No. Sit!” Alexia repeated, though with a small smile as she regarded her daughter. “Mila, you stay there. I can take care of everything.” 

“But Mami-”

“No! I can help Mama, you need to rest.” Your wife said, ignoring the amused look you were giving her, too focused on the attitude suddenly radiating off your daughter. 

“Mami. I have to go potty too.” Mila said exasperatedly. Ale blushed further, nodding as she allowed Mila to accompany you both towards the bathroom. You turned your snort of laughter into a fake cough, knowing that Alexia could be sensitive to being teased about her over protectiveness. And, well… it seemed Mila was holding her own in showing her Mami how ridiculous she was being. 

Once you’d arrived at the bathroom door, which took significantly longer than was necessary due to your wife and her mini-me insisting on walking slowly so as to not aggravate your head wound. You indulged them, only putting your foot down when both of them began to follow you into the bathroom. 

“No. Enough. I can do this myself.” You sighed, looking between both Alexia and Mila’s skeptical expressions. 

“But what if-”

“Mama, I can-”

You interrupted both of them by shutting the door and letting out a deep sigh. If you didn’t have a scar across your abdomen that told you that you’d birthed Mila, you’d be sure she was Alexia’s genetic clone. 

------

The rest of the night consisted of overwhelming amounts of hovering, from your wife and daughter both. Alexia took turns fussing over you, and fussing over Mila, until you were sure you were going to make her sleep on the couch or something, before she suggested waking you up every 20 minutes and performing a cognitive test. 

Alexia had just barely put Mila down in her toddler bed when she heard you call for her. There was urgency in your voice, but it was still obvious that you were trying to keep your voice down for Mila’s benefit. It had been hard enough to get the toddler to sleep; she had become suddenly very tearful once it was time for bed, because her favorite pajama shirt didn’t fit over her cast. It had taken one of Alexia’s t-shirts, around 45 minutes of cuddles, and 4 different stories, for her to finally settle. 

“Alexia,” you whisper yelled, shutting your eyes as the dizziness got worse. You heard Alexia rush down the hall towards you and willed yourself to hold on just a moment longer. 

Alexia ran into the room, seeing you with your head in your hands, sitting up in the bed. “What is it, amor?” 

“I’m gonna be sick,” you managed, pressing a hand to your mouth as Alexia sprung into action. 

“Okay, okay, just hold on one second.” 

Just in time, Alexia thrust the bedroom trash can in front of you. You were sick, retching into the trash can uncomfortably. Your wife pulled your hair back, being careful to not jostle the skin around your stitches, tying it into a very loose bun. She rubbed your back soothingly, pressing kisses into the side of your head until you were done. 

“Oh, amor, I am so sorry.” She murmured, taking the trash can from you once you were done. She was going to take it out of the room, but then she noticed the tears in your eyes, and decided that could wait until later. 

You curled into her when she sat by your legs and pulled you into her arms. Within a second, you were sobbing brokenly into her shirt, incapable of resisting how comforted you felt when she held you. 

Alexia whispered soft reassurances into your hair, beginning to think you were upset about more than just feeling so unwell. “Amor, is it your head? Or something else?” 

You shook your head weakly into her chest, sucking in a few breaths before you tried to respond. “Meels broke her arm and it’s all my fault.” You said miserably. 

“No no no, do not say that. It was not your fault, you did the best you could.” Alexia rushed to make you feel better, but that’s all it felt like; something she was saying just to make you feel better.

“You would have caught her.” 

Alexia’s chest squeezed uncomfortably, knowing that she was partially at fault for how guilty you felt right now. Even if what she’d said had been in the heat of the moment, and it was just a reflection of how upset she was, of course you’d taken it to heart. 

“It was an accident, mi amor. It is no one’s fault. Sometimes kids fall, sometimes they get hurt. It happens.”

“But Ale, it wouldn’t have happened if you had been with her. You’re just… so much better at this than I am.” You mumbled, refusing to untuck your face from Alexia’s shirt, even as she tried to get you to. 

“That is so not true.” Alexia insisted. “You cracked your head open trying to make sure Mila didn’t get hurt. That is not something a bad mother does.” 

You ignored her logic, wiping a tear away with that back of your hand. “You were right earlier. I should have been watching closer.”

Alexia shook her head again. “No. I was-“

“You blamed me then, what’s changed?” You snapped, not quite sure where all of these negative emotions were coming from, or why your mood was changing at the drop of a hat. Sad and guilty one second, angry the next. It wasn’t fair to Alexia, who was just trying to make you feel better, but there wasn’t any room for rationality in your jumbled head. 

Luckily, your wife didn’t seem to take your words or your tone personally. Instead, she tucked a piece of hair back behind your ear and softly kissed your forehead, showing more patience than you were sure you deserved.

“I don’t blame you. I was terrified earlier, but that is no excuse. This was not your fault and I’m sorry I made you feel like it was. So sorry, amor.” Her voice was sweet and you could feel how sincere she was, just from the way her hand gently cradled your cheek. 

Nodding shakily, you took a deep breath, suddenly feeling more than a little exhausted. “I’m sorry, Ale, I just-”

Alexia cut you off, though, placing her index finger over your lips. She looked stern again, like she had before when she was making sure you stayed on the couch and didn’t move. “It’s okay. No apologies. You are overwhelmed and hurt and exhausted. You need rest, we can talk about this more tomorrow if we need to.” 

You nodded your agreement, shifting uncomfortably as you glared down at your pillows. Your head absolutely throbbed, and you hadn’t even tried to rest it on the pillow yet. 

“I don’t know how I’m gonna sleep.” You mumbled, brow furrowing in confusion when Alexia smiled cheekily at you.

“I do!” She said enthusiastically, quickly tucking herself under the covers and pulling you to lay on her chest. Your head was completely safe from any contact with anything, and you found so much peace in the steady thump of Alexia’s heartbeat in your ear. 

She was a miracle worker, Alexia. Just when you thought you were going to explode with the amount of thoughts swirling around in your head, she quieted your brain with a few words and a few kisses. 

Unfortunately, as comfortable as you were, sleep did not seem to be in the cards for either of you. At least, not yet. No sooner than your eyes had fallen shut, and Alexia had settled comfortably into the pillows did you both hear the creak of Mila’s door opening. 

You exchanged a glance with your wife, keeping completely silent, knowing that sometimes Mila would come check on you both during the night, before heading back to her room. You heard her little steps padding down the hall, a small gasp, and then a loud thump. 

Alexia was out of bed before Mila could even cry out. “Stay there!” She threw over her shoulder, causing you to sit back down on the bed with a grumble. You were glad Alexia hadn’t turned the light off earlier, as she sprinted carelessly out of the room towards your daughter. 

“Mama!” Mila sobbed, her little voice breaking your heart. She wanted you, and it took everything in you to not go to her in that moment, knowing that Alexia would bring her to you. 

“It’s okay, cariño, I’m here.” Alexia soothed, Mila’s cries becoming muffled by her Mami’s shirt. 

Still, you could make out her next words very clearly. “I want Mama,” Mila demanded. 

Alexia just shushed her, a few seconds passing before they both appeared in the doorway. Mila’s face was red and stained with tears, her cast cradled to her chest. She reached for you as soon as she saw you, and Alexia wasted no time in bringing her over. 

“Careful, Milabear,” she reminded softly, handing the toddler over to you. Mila curled up against your chest, and you rubbed her back soothingly, exchanging a worried glance with your wife. 

Mila was a rough and tumble kid; she fell often, and really only cried if she was actually hurt. Sometimes, not even then. She was like her Mami in that way, so her inconsolable tears now terrified you. 

“I think she tripped over my shirt.” Alexia murmured, running her hands through her daughter’s hair. Dressed in one of Alexia’s old warm up shirts, Mila surely had tripped over the hem of it. You could see this information really sinking into your wife’s head, as she began to gnaw on her bottom lip, worry and guilt clouding her face.  

“Baby, did you trip?” You asked, easing Mila away from your body so you could get a good look at her face. She nodded, looking between you and your wife, her bottom lip jutting out adorably. 

“Woke up and my arm hurt, and I wanted to sleep in here but I couldn’t see and I fell.” Mila said. “Mama’s shirt is too big.” She continued forlornly, as if just now realizing this piece of information. 

Alexia looked truly distressed, opening her mouth to apologize for allowing Mila to sleep in her shirt, even though you knew the toddler had cried and cried until Alexia had finally given in to what she wanted, if only so she could sleep. You spoke before Alexia could, though, pushing a lock of hair out of your baby’s face. 

“Did you bump your arm when you fell?” You asked. Mila nodded, sniffling sadly. “Does it hurt a lot more or just a little bit more?” 

“A lot at first. Just a little bit now.” Mila said bravely, peeking at her Mami out of the corner of her eye. She loved to act tough, your little girl, but she was only three, and broken bones hurt. 

Alexia still hovered on your side of the bed, looking like she wanted to cry. 

“Alright, Mami will go get you some ice, and you can sleep in here with us tonight. Deal?” 

Mila nodded, flopping forward again to rest on your chest. The fact that her mood didn’t even really lift when you told her she could sleep with the two of you told you that she was really hurting. 

Without a word, only a soft kiss placed on Mila’s forehead, Alexia headed for the freezer. She walked calmly out of the room, but both you and Mila heard the unmistakable sound of her running her way to the kitchen, and running back. 

“Mami’s running.” Mila said, a small smile adorning her face. You laughed quietly, doing your best to keep your smile in check as Alexia slowed to a walk just before walking through the bedroom door, acting as though she’d walked the whole way. 

The blonde had returned with the biggest ice pack you had, the one that she’d used on her knee. She wrapped it meticulously around Mila’s arm, handed her a small sippy cup [of what looked suspiciously like juice, even though Mila was only supposed to have water this late at night], and some children’s pain medicine. 

It was only when Alexia slipped back into bed that she spoke, addressing her daughter with a deep sadness in her voice. “I’m sorry about your shirt, cariño, I shouldn’t have let you wear it.” 

Mila gave her a strange look, scooting out of your lap to lay directly on top of your wife. Her little fingers grabbed onto her Mami’s shirt, even the one’s restrained by her cast twisting into the fabric. “It’s okay, Mami. Was an accident.” 

You smiled at your girls, watching Alexia’s face melt from guilt into adoration as she leaned down to kiss all over Mila’s face. Your daughter giggled, and your heart soared at the sound, more than happy that she had stopped crying and cheered up. 

Mila settled back down against her Mami, reaching one hand out to latch onto your shirt and attempt to pull you closer. “Mama, closer.” She complained, huffing when you didn’t budge. 

Alexia frowned, worried you would put yourself into an uncomfortable position with your head in order to make Mila happy, but luckily, your daughter seemed to have the same thought. 

“Not on your back Mama! You gotta lay on your front. Here, lay on Mami.” Mila offered, whacking Alexia in the face with her cast as she struggled to move over. You snorted at the disgruntled look on your wife’s face, ignoring the fake glare she sent back your way.

It took some maneuvering from everyone involved before Mila was curled up against one side of Alexia’s chest, and you were resting with your cheek pressed into on the other side. Only once you and Mila were both comfy did Alexia kiss Mila on the forehead, and you chastly on the lips. 

And it was only when Mila had drifted off, soft puffs of air leaving her as she gripped onto both you and your wife, that you relaxed. Alexia gave you a knowing smile, well aware that your daughter's insistence that you hold her when she’d gotten hurt, and that you be included in the bedtime snuggles, had put to rest your worries that you’d failed her today. 

It all evened out, in parenthood. You couldn’t forget that. Tomorrow, when Alexia would turn away for a split second too long during breakfast and Mila would end up with syrup in her hair, you’d be even more sure of that. Mistakes didn’t change how much you or Alexia loved Mila, or how much she loved both of you. 

Mila didn’t keep score. She just loved you both, and that was that. 

-----

this has been in my drafts for genuienly several months so i apologize if it doesn't feel very cohesive. hope you enjoy anyway 🙂🫶🏻 thanks for reading 🫡🥰

[maxlarens]

OP: well, that isn't fucking relevant

pairing(s): oscar piastri x mercedes driver!reader

summary: someone tries to threaten your job, oscar has some choice words for him. (OR: the trials and tribulations of being a woman in a male dominated sport)

word count: 2.7k+

an: i kinda hate the white knight trope but i still wrote this lol, it scratches an itch and i think driver!reader did a sufficient amount of defending of herself beforehand. anyway, this is a one shot that's kind of connected to my smau series just a girl. enjoy!!!!! [also standard disclaimer: this does not reflect the opinions of any real life people/companies/organisations/etc. it is fiction. thank you]

You’re no stranger to sexism in Formula racing— you knew going into this that you’d have to deal with thinly veiled remarks about your gender and purposefully obtuse questions from reporters who think they know more than you about the sport you’ve dedicated your life to. You had to deal with it when you were karting, you had to deal with it during your stint in F2, and you have to deal with it now.

The fact of the matter is that some people do not think you belong here, and therefore are entirely unable to integrate the reality that you are very much here to stay, into their worldview. You’re lucky to have somehow earned Lewis’ loyalty, which had brought the Mercedes contract and the support of Toto simultaneously. Mercedes-AMG aren’t making leaps and bounds into the world of feminism, but you’re grateful for the seat regardless. You’re here and not going anywhere if you can help it.

You try your best to stay off the bad parts of social media, so as not to be subjected to the barrage of hate comments and death threats directed your way. You’re tough— but no one’s that tough. It’s fine for the most part. You focus on the racing, how the car feels, your performance and improving it weekend after weekend. You try at least. You’d love to leave your gender entirely out of the mix, you don’t think it’s relevant frankly. But unfortunately, the reporters do. (And so do some choice individuals working on the grid, who just can’t seem to keep their big fucking mouths shut about you.)

It’s disappointing, sure— but not surprising to sit down at a press conference and get a smattering of questions about your rumoured relationships and extracurricular activities when every other driver gets fifty questions practically thrown at them about their performance, or FIA regulations, or the track conditions. The part that bothers you the most is honestly just the lack of interest. It’s like they don’t think anything you have to say about the sport is valuable so they just don’t ask you the same questions they bother to ask the men. That probably is the actual case too.

So— y’know— you’re not that shocked when a reporter from some sports blog you’ve never heard of straight out asks if you “expect to be switched out with another female driver next year?”

The room goes dead fucking silent in a way that you do actually find satisfying. It’s good to know that most of the reporters in the room do know a tactless question when they hear one, or at least that you inspire enough fear in people that they’re waiting with bated breath to hear your response. Next to you, Oscar tenses, you can feel it where your thighs are touching. You can imagine his face right now without looking, that pinched micro-grimace he does. The barest hint of a crease in the bridge of his nose as he tries not to scowl. You want to put your hand on his knee and squeeze it in thanks.

You don’t. Instead, you frown and cock your head to the side, meeting the eyes of the reporter across the room.

Slowly, measuredly, you repeat, “I’m sorry, do I expect to be replaced with another female driver next year? Is that what you said?”

He nods, bringing the microphone closer to his mouth as if you really couldn’t hear him the first time, “Yes, yeah. That is what I asked.”

You hum, pursing your lips as if you’re sincerely considering his question. You can see a few people in the crowd who are cringing already, some of them have been on the receiving end of your tendency to play with your food before you eat it. Your ego feels pretty good about that.

“Why would Mercedes want to replace me?” you ask in your most polite voice, feigning real curiosity to this man who you doubt has done any research at all on you.

“Um,” he errs, some of his former unflappable confidence leeching out of his tone, “Well, to give more women a chance in Formula One—”

You start to speak over him, done with entertaining his ignorance. You bite, “—there are other teams for that, actually. I don’t think it’s presumptuous to say that I’ve earned my seat at Mercedes, or that I’ve proven that I belong here so far this season. In which, I have not qualified or placed below a P7. And I certainly don’t think it’s fair of you to ask if I am going to voluntarily give up my hard-earned seat to another person because you think I am here because of some women’s inclusion effort by Mercedes. And, okay, who knows, maybe I am. But I am not giving up this seat without a fight, nor do I imagine that Mercedes are in a rush to find someone to replace me right now. You’ll have to ask someone to confirm that though.”

You wind down after that, punctuating your point with a firm nod; some of the fight and the fury seeping out as you start to reckon with the potential consequences of your outburst. Mercedes’ PR rep will have something to say surely, you’re just hoping you haven’t crossed some kind of uncrossable line. Another part of you doesn’t quite care as you watch the reporter gape like a fish out of water, feeling rather satisfied that you’d put him in his place.

Eventually, the room recovers and moves on from you. Checo is getting asked his opinion on tyres while you share a furtive glance with Oscar. He smiles approvingly, mouth closed and the apples of his cheeks pushed up into his eyes. You feel the urge to touch his knee again but resist, instead smiling back as covertly as you possibly can. A warm feeling spreads in your chest and you almost forget about the reporter and his stupid question in favour of watching Oscar’s slow-burn smile.

Mercedes is fine with it, it turns out. Apparently, you’re doing the heavy lifting for them in the feminism department and all they have to do is have Toto or someone come out and say a few words in agreement. It suits them fine, they don’t need to take any hard stances and you get the blame if anything goes horribly wrong. That grates at you, of course it does. But you’ve got a seat, haven’t you? You’re not going to give it up because Mercedes are covering their asses like the multibillion-dollar company that they are.

It means you’ve avoided the all-hands-on-deck PR meeting you thought you’d be stuck in tonight, but it’s left you in too sour a mood for this party. It’s some function, fundraiser, something or other and they’ve invited all the teams, drivers and ‘important’ FIA staff. This means there’s an inordinate amount of people here and you’re really not into it.

But you’re still here. You’ve shoved yourself into a cute, strappy, black top, and a denim mini-skirt and you’ve even added some cute jewellery in a feeble attempt to match whatever over-the-top outfit Lewis has arrived in. It’s at least a step up from your usual team polo and leggings, or the Mercedes hoodie that you pull on over it. You’re comfortable. You’re fine.

You pull a hand out of the pocket of your oversized leather jacket as Oscar comes back over with your beer. You smile at the expression on his face as you take the neck in between your fingers. He’s scowling openly, the corners of his lips curled up in distaste.

“Busy?” you ask, then you hold up the beer in thanks, “Cheers, by the way.”

“Hmm, too crowded,” he affirms, “I lost Lando.”

You shrug, taking a swig of the refreshingly cold beer, “Actually? Or did he run off with someone?”

Oscar snorts, “Yeah, no. He got into a conversation with Max.”

You laugh, “Yeah, in that case, I reckon we’ll see Lando in a few hours.”

“Definitely.”

The two of you share an amused smile before you’re back to looking into the crowd because sometimes, it’s hard for you to look at him— like looking directly into the sun. You’re aware of him in your periphery, standing there and rocking back and forth on his heels, occasionally taking a sip of his drink. He looks away for a moment, and you turn to look at him. Taking in the endearing swoop of his hair, the scattering of freckles and moles on the side of his pale face, the long line of his neck disappearing into the collar of his shirt. You shift your eyes slightly to the right of him, to the patchwork of vents and scaffolding in the ceiling, feigning as if you’d only been casually looking his way.

“That reporter was a piece of work,” Oscar says once he’s drifted his attention back to you.

You roll your eyes on instinct, and groan, “Tell me about it, holy shit, Osc. What an asshole. I don’t know if he was just stupid or legit didn’t know a single thing about me.”

“Mm,” Oscar hums in agreement, “and I like how no one asked you a single question after that. Way to go guys, that’s exactly how you show your support.”

You roll your eyes, still smiling a little at the contented feeling you’ve got in your chest, “I know, right. Trust, they all got on their keyboards afterwards to wax lyrical about how deserving I am of my seat. It’d be fucken’ nice if they acted like it during press conferences.”

“Yeaah,” he sighs, half-laugh, half-exhale, “It’s unfair.”

“Fucken' right,” you gripe, tipping your head back and letting a slip of fizzy beer cascade down your throat— the alcohol, though meagre, leaves you feeling loose, a little reckless, “It sucks Osc. God, I just want to be respected. If I had a dick and balls I’d be fucking killing it, dude. This is my rookie season, I’ve been scoring points every race. Except for the DNF, which was not my fault. But, fuck me, they don’t give a shit.”

You squeeze your eyes shut to stave off the angry tears that are sitting behind your eyelids, threatening. When you open them Oscar is staring at you, frowning, his brown eyes huge and sparkling and sympathetic. They’re like a black hole you want to fall into. Your heart squeezes. He’s so— ugh. Quickly, your mind supplies about a hundred answers to that question: sweet, cute, nice, adorable. Something stutters in your chest and you feel your cheeks starting to grow hot. That slow-burn smile of Oscar’s starts on his face, and you watch dimples form on his cheeks.

The moment is quickly ruined by a particularly nasally Italian accent that you vaguely recognise, “You know,” it says, clearly talking to you, “You should make sure to watch your tone. You never know who could be listening.”

Mood thoroughly dampened, you turn to face the interruption. It turns out to be one of the numerous men on the grid who won’t shut up about you, sharing unsolicited opinions left and right. He has his arms crossed against his chest and a smug expression on his face, as if he’s just caught you doing something terrible— instead of simply complaining about the subpar treatment you’re afforded.

He’s not worth your time whatsoever but God you’re angry. Maybe it’s just been too much shit on top of shit today but you cannot deal reasonably with this man right now— and you are not afforded the luxury of not acting reasonably toward someone like this, no matter how much of a dickhead they are. You open your mouth. Close it. Open it again. Close it and bite down on your bottom lip so nothing accidentally slips out. You’re trying to fish a semi-civil sentence out of a sea of fuck you fuck you fuck you on repeat and it’s not working.

“Are you threatening her?” Oscar asks, a dangerous lilt to his tone, and somewhere in the pulse of anger, you think this is the happiest you’ve ever been to hear his voice, “Because, I am pretty sure your team principal would not be pleased to hear that you’re going around threatening one of Mercedes’ drivers.”

He scoffs, trying to play it off, but you think you register a little bit of worry somewhere in there— Oscar can be threatening when he wants to be and McLaren are not exactly nobodies in this sport right now, “Please, I am not threatening her. I am just telling her that she needs to watch her mouth.”

“Right,” Oscar nods, mouth pinching, “Sure. Well, it would be our word against yours and I’m fairly sure your team principal would believe two drivers over you right now. Especially with that history, you’ve got, dude.”

A little thrill goes up your spine as his face goes white as a sheet. Oscar’s talking about the nice little list of comments he’s made that you’ve reported to your team and an FIA representative— which you’ve taken to doing every time anyone starts up a pattern of saying things about you or to you. They’re to cover your ass honestly, so you can’t be accused of making things up if push comes to shove. You’re sure they’ve made their way back to him and his boss; you’re glad they’ve made an impact (but perhaps not enough to stop him outright).

He sniffs, a nervous edge to his words, “I am not threatening her.”

“Okay. Apologise.”

“Excuse me?”

Oscar raises an eyebrow, “If you’re not threatening her, apologise.”

You bite the inside of your lip and grip the neck of your near-empty beer bottle tighter. Alright, Oscar can be scary. Noted. Very much noted.

“I—” He quickly thinks better of protesting and looks at you, lips pursed in a thin angry line, “I apologise.”

He looks at Oscar, Oscar looks at you. You shrug and nod. Good enough. You don’t need him to grovel, you think he’s been sufficiently humiliated already. Although, before he scampers off into the crowd at Oscar’s approval, you manage a dry, “You think I need to watch my tone now?”

He scowls, but says, “No,” anyway.

Then he stalks off into the throng of people.

You relax more the further that he gets away from the two of you. The tension dissipates into something warm and charged with a different kind of electricity entirely. You ignore the unease that tries to take root in your stomach and instead focus on Oscar at your side.

“That was—” you scrub a hand over your face, starting your sentence again, “Hm.”

Oscar sigh-laughs again, “Yeah, what an asshole.”

“Thank you,” you say meaning it wholeheartedly, “No one’s done something like that for me before.”

Oscar looks down at you, frowning, he shakes his head, “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” you answer, feeling bold as you put a hand on his bicep in an attempt to express how grateful you feel for him, for what he’d done for you, “It’s really not, Osc.”

He’s quiet, staring at you with big brown sparkling eyes for a long long moment. A long moment in which you fantasise about reaching upward and pulling his face down to yours, feeling his lips against your own. They’d be soft, you think— his hair would be too. You don’t think about it and you resolutely ignore the tug low in your gut.

“You deserve it,” he says eventually, loud enough that you can hear it, but not anyone else, “You are killing it, by the way.”

You breathe a laugh, “Yeah, I’d better be.”

You squeeze gently at his bicep, feeling the sinewed muscle underneath his dress shirt. Then you let your hand drop, trailing absently down his arm as you do so. Your fingers brush his hand, and he catches yours before it's out of reach at your side. Purposefully, he threads your fingers with his, squeezing firmly and brushing his thumb tenderly over your knuckle. You feel a little lightheaded when he lets go.

You sigh, masking the out-of-breath quality of your voice, “I need another drink.”

“Yeah,” Oscar breathes, “Me too, I reckon.”

🏎️ title taken from this song :)