#that bitch to shut up!!!!! that bitch is me!!!!!!!!

[jupiterpilgrim]

Teach 'Em a Lesson: The Bold Guide to Putting Bullies in Their Place

Gaeul x Male Reader

word count: 7.2K

You're chilling at Gaeul's place with the crew, sprawled on her comfy couch playing Pokemon on your phone. Your friends are getting restless, talking about grabbing some pizza from that fancy joint across town.

"Yo guys, let's roll! I'm fucking starving," one of your friends says, jangling the car keys.

Everyone starts walking towards the door, but there's only room for five, and there are six of you. Well, you are very focused on your game, so without much suffering you accept the mission to be exiled from the pizza run.

But...

Gaeul waves goodbye to them, saying she'll stay behind as well.

"Someone's gotta babysit the nerd," she snickers, jerking her thumb at you.

You barely look up from your game, used to her constant teasing. At 5'5; Gaeul's a tiny thing but she makes up for it with attitude. Her boyish style - baggy jeans, oversized hoodie hiding her small tits - doesn't stop her from being hot as fuck.

Not that you'd ever admit that to her face.

The door slams shut and suddenly it's just you two. The silence feels different now. Gaeul flops down next to you, peering at your screen.

"Seriously? Pokemon? No wonder you can't get any pussy,” she taunts, poking your arm.

"Fuck off, I date plenty," you mutter, trying to focus on your battle.

She lets out a bark of laughter. "Yeah right! Name one girl you've fucked."

"None of your fucking business." Your ears burn but you keep your eyes on the screen.

"Ha! Virgin alert!" She's grinning now, enjoying getting under your skin. "Bet you've never even kissed anyone. Too busy jerking it to anime titties."

Your jaw clenches. "I said: fuck off…"

"I don't know how we have friends in common."

"Shut up, Gaeul..."

"Make me, virgin boy!" She snatches your phone, holding it just out of reach. "What're you gonna do about it?"

Something snaps inside you. In one fluid motion, you grab her wrist and pin her against the couch. She squeaks in surprise, eyes going wide. your phone falls onto the couch seat next to you.

"The fuck did you just call me? Say it again!" you growl, pressing her down. Your body covers hers completely.

"I-I... virgin boy?" Her voice wavers but there's a glint in her eye that wasn't there before.

You grip both her wrists now, holding them above her head. "Ha! Wrong answer."

Her breath hitches. You can feel her pulse racing under your fingers. That's when you notice it - the way she's squirming isn't to get away. Her thighs press together, hips shifting restlessly.

"Holy shit," you breathe. "You like this, don't you? The tough girl act is just that - an act."

"N-no!" But her face flushes red and her nipples are hard points visible through her hoodie.

You lean down, lips brushing her ear. "Lying bitch! I can feel how wet you are through your jeans." She whimpers, and that sound goes straight to your cock. "Wanna see how much of a virgin I am?" You grind against her, letting her feel how hard you are.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

"Just proving that even an annoying brat like you can turn me on too."

"Fuck you, n-nerd…" she whispers, but there's no bite in it. Her pupils are dilated, chest rising and falling rapidly.

"I'm not fucking kidding. Bedroom. Now." You release her wrists but maintain eye contact, daring her to disobey.

For a moment she hesitates, then scrambles up and leads the way to her room.

The second you're through her door, you grab her hoodie and yank it over her head. No bra underneath - her small tits are perfect handfuls topped with hard pink nipples.

"Fucking slut, walking around braless," you growl, pinching one nipple roughly. She cries out, legs trembling. "Bet you were hoping for this, weren't you?"

"No, I... ah!" She gasps as you twist harder.

"Still lying?" You spin her around, bending her over the edge of her bed. "Let's see how wet you really are."

You pull her jeans and cotton boyshorts down to her knees. Her pussy is dripping, juice running down her thighs.

"Look at that," you laugh darkly, running two fingers through her folds. "Soaked just from being manhandled a little. What a pathetic little sub you are."

“I-I'm not pathetic…”

She tries to close her legs but you kick them apart, keeping her spread wide. Your fingers circle her clit, making her moan.

"Please..." she whimpers.

"Please what?" You slide one finger inside her tight hole. "Use your words, slut."

"Please... oh… fuck me..." Her voice is barely a whisper.

You add a second finger, pumping them slowly. "What was that? Couldn't hear you."

"Fuck me!" she practically screams. "Please, I need your cock!"

"That's better." You pull your fingers out and wipe them on her ass. "But first..."

Your hand comes down hard on her right cheek. She yelps but pushes back for more.

"Gonna spank this attitude right out of you."

You alternate cheeks, watching them bounce and jiggle. Each hit makes her pussy drip more, a puddle forming on the floor. Her ass turns a beautiful shade of pink.

"Count them," you order.

SMACK!

"One!" she gasps.

SMACK!

"Two!"

By ten, she's sobbing and rutting against nothing. Her ass is bright red and hot to the touch.

"Good girl," you purr, rubbing the beaten flesh. "Now, on your knees!"

Half nervous and half anxious, she hurriedly gets rid of the pieces of clothing still on her knees, almost tripping in the process.

You take off your shoes and unzip your jeans, taking off your pants along with your underwear, letting your rock-hard cock spring free.

The sight before you makes your cock throb with anticipation - Gaeul, the annoying little brat who's been pushing your buttons for months, completely naked and on her knees in her bedroom. Her petite body trembles slightly as she stares at your massive erection, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and unmistakable lust.

You've finally figured out her game. All those times she went out of her way to irritate you, to get under your skin - it wasn't just random bitchiness. No, this pathetic slut has been desperately trying to get your attention the only way she knew how.

"Like what you see?" you growl, slowly stroking your shaft. "This is what you've been after all along, isn't it?"

Gaeul swallows hard, her small breasts rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths. Her nipples are rock hard, betraying her arousal despite her attempts to play innocent.

"I... I don't know what you mean..." she stammers, but her eyes remain locked on your cock.

You step closer, close enough that your cockhead brushes against her flushed cheek. She gasps but doesn't pull away.

"Don't play dumb with me, you little tease. All those times you went out of your way to annoy me, to get under my skin... you were just begging to be put in your place, weren't you?"

Your hand shoots out to grab a fistful of her silky black hair, yanking her head back roughly. She yelps in surprise and pain, but you can see her thighs pressing together, trying to relieve the ache between them.

"Look at you, getting wet just from being manhandled again," you taunt, using your free hand to slap your cock against her cheek. "Such a pathetic little slut. Admit it - admit what you really are!"

"Please..." she whimpers, squirming under your grip.

You tighten your hold on her hair, making her gasp. "That's not what I want to hear. Tell me the truth - tell me why you've been such an annoying little bitch."

Tears form in the corners of her eyes, but they're not tears of fear or pain.

No.

These are tears of shameful arousal as she finally faces what she really is.

"Because... I-I'm sorry… because I wanted this," she whispers.

"Wanted what? Be specific, whore."

"I wanted you to get angry! To put me in my place!" The words burst from her like a dam breaking. "I wanted you to see what a desperate slut I am! Please... please use me..."

You smirk, satisfied with her confession. "That's better. Now open that bratty mouth of yours - time to put it to better use than talking back to me."

Gaeul parts her lips eagerly as you press your cockhead against them. Her tongue darts out to taste you, making your shaft twitch. But you're not interested in letting her take her time exploring.

Gripping both sides of her head firmly, you thrust forward, forcing your thick cock past her lips. She gags immediately as you hit the back of her throat, but you don't let up.

"Relax that throat, slut," you command. "You wanted my attention? Well, now you've got all of it."

You start fucking her face properly, each thrust going deeper than the last. Tears stream down her cheeks as she struggles to accommodate your size, but her eyes are glazed with unmistakable lust.

"Look at you, choking on cock like you were born for it," you taunt as you bottom out in her throat. Her nose presses against your pelvis as you hold yourself deep, cutting off her air. "Is this what you imagined when you were being an annoying little tease? Getting your throat used like a cheap fleshlight?"

Gaeul can only make gurgling sounds in response, drool running down her chin and coating your shaft. You hold yourself there until her face starts turning red, then pull back to let her gasp for air.

"Please..." she begs hoarsely between coughs. "I need more... need you to fuck my pussy too..."

"Oh, you'll get that tight cunt stuffed soon enough," you promise. "But first, I'm going to make sure you never forget what happens to bratty little sluts who don't know how to ask nicely for cock."

You slam back into her mouth, setting a brutal pace that has her gagging and retching around your shaft. Her throat spasms beautifully with each deep thrust, but she doesn't try to pull away. Instead, she grabs your thighs, trying to take you even deeper.

"Such a natural cocksucker," you grunt, watching your dick disappear between her stretched lips over and over. "All that attitude, and all you really needed was to be throat-fucked into submission."

After thoroughly using her mouth, you finally pull out. Gaeul gasps for air, her face a mess of tears, drool, and smeared makeup. Without giving her time to recover, you grab her arms and throw her onto the bed.

"Ass up, face down," you order. "Show me that needy pussy you've been hiding under those baggy jeans."

She scrambles to obey, getting into position and arching her back to present herself to you. Her pussy is absolutely drenched, her inner thighs glistening with her arousal. You run your cock through her soaked folds, coating it in her juices.

"Fuck, you really are desperate for it," you observe. "Your cunt's practically drooling. Beg for it, slut! Tell me how badly you need this cock."

"Please fuck me!" she cries out, pushing back against your teasing shaft. "I need it so bad... need you to fill me up and use me like the whore I am! I've been such a bad girl, teasing you all this time... please punish my pussy!"

You line up with her entrance and thrust in hard, making her scream. Her cunt is incredibly tight, gripping your cock like a vice as you force your way deeper. Each inch stretches her walls, making her whole body tremble.

"Fuck, you really are a desperate little slut," you grunt, starting to pound her roughly. "Your pussy's practically sucking me in. Is this what you've been dreaming about while playing your little games?"

Gaeul moans uncontrollably, her whole body shaking as you ravage her tight hole. Each brutal thrust makes her small tits bounce and jiggle. You reach down to pinch and twist her nipples, making her clench even tighter around your cock.

"Yes! Yes! Harder!" she begs shamelessly. "Use my slutty pussy! Make me your fucktoy! I've wanted this for so long!"

You increase your pace, slamming into her cervix with each stroke. The wet sounds of your cock plowing her needy cunt fill the room, along with her desperate moans and whimpers. Her pussy gets wetter and wetter, practically gushing around your shaft.

"You're going to cum on my cock like the whore you are," you tell her. "Then I'm going to take that virgin asshole too. Going to claim every hole you've got."

Her pussy spasms at your words.

"My... my ass? But I've never... No… it's too big..."

"That tight little hole belongs to me now," you growl, reaching around to rub her clit roughly as you continue pounding her pussy. "I'm going to stretch it out and fill it with cum. Mark you as my personal fucktoy."

Gaeul's moans rise in pitch, her body tensing up as your fingers work her sensitive clit. Combined with the relentless pounding of her pussy, it's quickly pushing her toward the edge.

"Cum for me, slut. Show me how much you love being used like this."

She screams as her orgasm hits, her pussy clamping down hard on your cock. You fuck her through it mercilessly, prolonging her pleasure until she's sobbing and shaking uncontrollably.

Without pulling out, you gather some of her abundant wetness and press a finger against her virgin asshole. She whimpers as you slowly work it inside, her tight ring of muscle resisting the intrusion.

"Please be gentle..." she begs. "I've never had anything in there..."

"You'll take what I give you," you growl, adding a second finger to stretch her tight hole. "This ass is mine now, just like the rest of you."

You finger-fuck her thoroughly, making sure she's ready for your cock. Her whimpers of discomfort gradually turn to moans of pleasure as her body adjusts to the new sensation. You can feel her pushing back against your fingers, hungry for more.

Finally, you pull out of her pussy and press your cockhead against her stretched asshole. "Deep breath, slut. Here comes your first assfucking."

You push forward slowly but steadily, watching your cock disappear into her virgin hole. Gaeul cries out, clutching the sheets as you stretch her wider than your fingers did. Her whole body trembles as you claim her last untouched hole.

"That's it, take it all," you encourage as you sink deeper. "Such a good little anal slut... taking cock in your virgin ass like you were made for it."

When you're fully buried in her ass, you pause to let her adjust. Her whole body is shaking, caught between pain and pleasure as her tight hole stretches around your thick shaft.

"Move..." she finally whispers, her voice thick with need. "Please... fuck my ass... make me completely yours..."

You start with slow, shallow thrusts, gradually building up speed and depth. Her tight hole grips your cock beautifully, sending waves of pleasure through you. Each stroke becomes easier as her body accepts the invasion.

"Look at you, taking cock in your virgin ass like a natural," you taunt, watching your shaft disappear into her stretched hole over and over. "You really are just a complete whore, aren't you? Born to take cock in all your holes."

"Yes, sir!" she moans, pushing back to meet your thrusts. "I'm your whore! Your anal slut! Please fuck me harder! Use my ass!"

You grant her wish, picking up the pace until you're properly fucking her ass. The sight of your cock plunging in and out of her stretched hole is incredible. You reach around to play with her dripping pussy, finding her clit swollen and sensitive.

"You're actually getting off on having your ass fucked," you marvel, feeling how wet she still is. "Such a perfect little fucktoy... getting your virgin ass stretched and loving every second of it!"

Gaeul can only moan in response, her body rocking with each thrust. You can feel her getting close to another orgasm, her holes clenching rhythmically around your cock and fingers.

"Cum for me again," you order, rubbing her clit faster. "Cum while I fuck this tight ass. Show me what a complete slut you've become."

Your fingers work her sensitive nub as you pound her ass, and soon she's screaming through another intense orgasm. The way her asshole spasms around your cock pushes you closer to your own climax.

"Where do you want my cum, slut?! Tell me how you want me to mark you as mine."

"In my ass!" she begs desperately. "Please cum deep in my ass! Fill me up... make me yours completely! I want to feel your hot cum inside me!"

You grab her hips with both hands and start fucking her ass with abandon, chasing your release. Her tight hole feels amazing, squeezing and milking your cock perfectly. Each thrust makes her whole body shake, her moans getting louder and more desperate.

"Take it all," you grunt as you finally explode, flooding her ass with hot cum. "Every last fucking drop... marking this tight hole as mine forever..."

You stay buried deep as you empty yourself inside her, making sure she takes every drop of your seed. When you finally pull out, cum immediately starts leaking from her gaping hole, running down her thighs in thick rivulets.

Gaeul collapses onto the bed, thoroughly used and satisfied. Her holes are red and swollen, leaking your cum and her own juices. You give her ass a hard slap, making her jump and moan weakly.

"From now on, you're mine," you tell her firmly. "No more bratty behavior - unless you want another lesson like this one. Understand?"

She looks back at you with glazed eyes, cum still dripping from her well-fucked ass. "Yes, sir... I'll be good, I… fuck… I promise..."

“Too busy catching Pikachus to catch some pussy, huh? What a shitty stereotype…”

"I thoug-"

“Shut up. Answer me: still think I'm a virgin?" you ask with a smirk.

She laughs weakly. "Definitely not. Fuck, I'm not gonna be able to sit right for days.”

"Good." You give her ass one final smack, making her yelp. "Maybe next time you'll think twice before talking shit.”

"Maybe," she grins. "Or maybe I'll just have to keep provoking you."

You grab her hair, pulling her in for a rough kiss. "Careful what you wish for, little slut. I might just have to teach you another lesson." She moans into the kiss. Your lips move down to her neck, where you leave a few bite marks, just so she remembers you when she looks in the mirror later. "The others will be back soon," you remind her. "Better clean yourself up before they see what a whore you really are."

Gaeul struggles to sit up, wincing at the soreness in her ass.

You head back to the living room, leaving her to clean up the mess you made of her. When you settle back on the couch and pick up your phone, the Pokemon game is still running.

A few minutes later, Gaeul emerges, walking down the stairs with a certain distrust in her expression, wearing fresh clothes, but walking with a slight limp. She sits gingerly on the opposite end of the couch, unable to meet your eyes.

"Something wrong?" you ask innocently. "You're usually so talkative."

She squirms uncomfortably. "Shut up..."

"That's not very nice, Gaeul." You give her a warning look. "Do we need another lesson already?"

Gaeul's eyes go wide and she quickly shakes her head. "No! Not now! I-I mean... I'll be good."

"That's what I thought." You turn back to your game with a satisfied smile, knowing you've finally found the perfect way to handle your bratty tomboy bully.

—

The sound of cars pulling up outside announces the return of your friends. Gaeul quickly tries to fix her messy hair and straighten her clothes, but there's no hiding the fresh bite marks on her neck or the slight tremor in her hands.

"Hey guys, we're back with pizza!" calls out one of your friends as they enter the house. "Hope you two didn't kill each other while we were gone!"

If they only knew.

Your friends pile into the living room, carrying several pizza boxes and drinks. They seem oblivious to the tension in the air or the way Gaeul can barely sit still.

"Everything okay?" one of them asks, noticing Gaeul's unusual quietness. "You seem different."

“I'm fucking fine!”

Gaeul blushes deeply. Your friends look confused but shrug it off, too focused on the food to question further.

As everyone settles in to eat, you catch Gaeul stealing glances at you when she thinks no one is looking. Each time your eyes meet, she quickly looks away, but you can see the mixture of fear and arousal in her expression.

You make sure to sit next to her on the couch, close enough that your thigh presses against hers. She tenses but doesn't move away, especially when you rest your hand on her knee under the pretense of reaching for a slice of pizza.

"So what did you guys do while we were gone?" someone asks between bites.

"Just played some games," you say casually, squeezing Gaeul's thigh. "Taught Gaeul a few new things."

She nearly chokes on her pizza, earning concerned looks from your friends. "Are you okay?" they ask as she coughs.

"Fine," she manages to say. "Just... went down the wrong way."

You smirk, knowing exactly what went down her throat earlier. Your hand slides higher up her thigh, making her squirm.

The rest of the evening passes in a blur of pizza, conversation, and subtle torment as you continue to tease Gaeul under the radar of your oblivious friends. Every touch makes her jump, every whispered comment makes her blush.

Now you understand why she teases you.

It's so fucking pleasurable.

When everyone finally starts heading home for the night, you hang back, pretending to look for your phone. As the last friend leaves, you corner Gaeul in the kitchen.

"Think you learned your lesson?" you ask, pressing her against the counter.

She nods quickly, her breath catching as you lean in close. "Yes... I won't be mean anymore."

"Good girl." You grab her ass roughly, making her gasp. "But just to make sure it sticks..."

Before she can protest, you spin her around and bend her over the kitchen counter. Your hand slides into her shorts, finding her already wet.

"Fuck, you're soaked again," you growl in her ear. "Did you get turned on sitting there in front of everyone, knowing what a whore you are?"

"Please," she whimpers. "They might come back..."

"Better be quiet then." You pull her shorts down just enough to expose her ass and pussy. "Wouldn't want them to see their tough tomboy friend being used like a fucktoy."

You unzip your pants and line up with her entrance, sliding into her still-tight pussy in one smooth thrust. Gaeul bites her lip to keep from moaning as you start fucking her against the counter.

"Such a good little slut now," you grunt, gripping her hips. "Amazing what a proper fucking can do to fix an attitude problem."

Your pace increases, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the kitchen. Gaeul's legs shake as she tries to stay quiet, small whimpers escaping despite her best efforts.

You reach around to rub her clit while you pound into her, feeling her pussy clench around your cock. Her whole body trembles as another orgasm approaches.

"Please," she whispers desperately. "I'm so close..."

"Cum for me," you command, working her clit faster. "Show me what a good girl you can be."

Gaeul buries her face in her arm to muffle her scream as she cums hard, her pussy spasming around your shaft. You fuck her through her orgasm until she's practically sobbing from overstimulation.

Just as you're about to cum, you pull out and spin her around, forcing her to her knees. "Open your mouth. Take your reward like a good slut."

She obeys immediately, looking up at you with those big eyes as you stroke your cock. With a grunt, you explode all over her face, covering her in thick ropes of cum.

"Don't move," you order as you tuck yourself away. "I want to remember you like this - on your knees, covered in my cum, finally learning your place."

Gaeul stays still, cum dripping down her face onto her chest. She looks thoroughly debauched and completely submissive.

"Clean yourself up," you say, heading for the door. "And remember - any time you start acting like a bitch again, this is what happens."

As you leave her house, you can't help but smile thinking about how different things will be now. The dynamic between you and Gaeul has shifted completely - no more will she bet the untouchable tomboy who loves to torment you. Now you know what she really needs, what she's been craving all along.

—

You sit in class, bored as fuck scrolling through your phone under the desk. A notification pops up - it's from Gaeul. Your heart skips a beat seeing that familiar contact name. Opening the message, you nearly drop your phone - this crazy bitch sent you a pic of her tight ass with an anal plug inserted, taken in what looks like the girls' bathroom. The caption reads "Missing your fat cock stretching me out... meet me after class? 😈"

You adjust yoursel in secret, already getting hard remembering how you bent her over your desk yesterday and fucked her tight ass until she was begging for more. It still amazes you how things changed between you two. For months she tormented you - calling you names, tarnishing your image at college, making fun of you in front of your friends…

Until that one day you finally snapped.

Now here you are three months later, sexting during class while pretending nothing's changed in public, with a phone full of filthy videos and pictures of your former bully. Videos of her fucking herself with toys, close-ups of her stretched holes, clips of her begging for your cock. On the surface she still acts tough, but you know the truth - she's just a needy anal slut who craves being dominated.

Your phone buzzes again - another pic from the bathroom, this time showing her fingers buried in her dripping pussy. "Can't wait anymore... Come fuck me NOW!!"

You raise your hand, making up some bullshit excuse about feeling sick. The professor waves you out and you practically run to the second floor bathroom where you know she's waiting. The halls are empty since class is still in session.

You slip inside the second floor bathroom and there she is - still in her typical tomboy getup of baggy jeans and oversized hoodie. Her short hair is slightly messy and her cheeks are flushed. The contrast between her tough exterior and what you know lies underneath makes your cock throb.

"Took you long enough, nerd," she smirks, but you can see the desperate hunger in her eyes. Her tough girl act doesn't work on you anymore - not since you discovered what a submissive little slut she really is.

"Shut the fuck up," you growl, grabbing her by the throat and slamming her against the cold tile wall. She gasps, her pupils dilating with lust. "Sending me pictures like that while I'm in class... you're such a desperate whore."

"Hmm, maybe I am," she taunts, grinding against your obvious bulge. "What are you gonna do about it?"

You tighten your grip on her throat, using your other hand to roughly grope her small tits through her clothes. Even through the baggy fabric you can feel her hard nipples. "I'm gonna remind you exactly who owns this body."

"Big talk from a ne-" Her words cut off in a moan as you spin her around and bend her over the sink, yanking those loose jeans down to her thighs. She's not wearing any underwear, the slut. The metal plug glints between her ass cheeks, just like in the picture she sent.

"Look at you, walking around with a plug in your ass like a proper anal whore." You give her pale ass a hard slap, leaving a red handprint. "Bet you've been thinking about my cock all morning."

"Fuck... yes..." she admits, dropping the attitude as you start playing with the plug. "Haven't stopped thinking about it since last night..."

You slowly twist and pull the plug, watching her asshole grip the metal. "Tell me what you want. I want to hear the tough tomboy beg."

"Please..." she whimpers as you pop the plug out, her hole gaping slightly. "Need your cock in my ass..."

"Not good enough." You spit on her exposed hole and start working one finger in while she squirms. "Be specific. Tell me exactly what you need."

"I need... fuck..." A second finger joins the first, stretching her wider. "Need you to fuck my ass raw... need you to remind me what a slut I am..."

"Keep going." Three fingers now, roughly fucking her loosened hole while she pants and moans. "Tell me how this nerd turned you into such a whore."

"You... ah!... you showed me what I really am..." Her pussy is literally dripping onto the floor as you finger-fuck her ass. "Showed me that I'm just a cockhungry anal slut... please, I need it so bad..."

"Need what?" You curl your fingers, making her gasp.

"Need your fat cock stretching my ass! Need you to fuck me like the worthless whore I am! Please, I'll do anything!" She's practically sobbing now, all traces of her usual attitude gone.

You pull your fingers out and quickly undo your pants, letting your rock hard cock spring free. "Look at yourself in the mirror while I fuck you. I want you to watch yourself break."

Her eyes meet yours in the reflection as you line up with her gaping hole. Without warning you thrust all the way in, making her cry out. The sound echoes off the bathroom walls but you don't care - you need to put this bratty bitch in her place.

"Fuck! So big..." she moans as you establish a brutal pace, watching your cock disappear into her tight asshole over and over. She tries to muffle herself by biting her sleeve but you grab her hair and yank her head up.

"No. I want to hear every slutty sound you make. Let everyone know what a whore you are." You reach around to roughly pinch her nipples through her hoodie. "Who would believe that the tough tomboy loves taking it up the ass?"

"Only... only for you..." she pants, her whole body shaking as you rail her. "You're the only one who gets to use me like this..."

"Damn right." You pull almost all the way out before slamming back in, making her yelp. "This ass belongs to me. I fucking own you."

Your words make her moan even louder. You can see in the mirror how completely wrecked she looks - face flushed, eyes glazed, mouth hanging open as she takes your cock. Such a different sight from her usual cocky expression.

"Touch yourself," you command. "Play with that dripping pussy while I destroy your ass."

She immediately reaches down to rub her clit, her fingers moving frantically. The extra stimulation makes her ass clench around you even tighter. "Gonna... gonna cum soon..."

"Already? Such a slutty response." You increase your pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the bathroom. "Cumming from getting your ass fucked in a public bathroom... what would your friends think if they could see you now?"

"Don't care... fuck... just don't stop!" She's openly crying now, tears of pleasure running down her face as you pound her mercilessly.

You grab her hips hard enough to bruise and really start hammering into her. Each thrust makes her whole body jerk forward, her small tits bouncing under the hoodie. "Come on then, cum for me. Show me what a buttslut you are."

Her orgasm hits hard - her ass spasms around your cock as she practically screams into her sleeve, her legs shaking so bad you have to hold her up. You don't slow down, fucking her through the intense climax.

"Good girl... but we're not done yet." You pull out suddenly, making her whine at the emptiness. "On your knees. Time to remind you what you're good for."

She drops to her knees immediately, looking up at you with those desperate eyes. Your cock is right in her face, still slick from her ass. Without being told, she opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue.

"That's right, taste yourself like the dirty slut you are." You slap your cock against her tongue a few times before shoving it down her throat. She gags but takes it like a champ, months of practice evident in how she relaxes her throat.

You grab her short hair with both hands and start properly facefucking her, using her mouth like a pussy. Tears stream down her face and drool drips from her chin but she doesn't try to pull away. If anything she moans around your cock, clearly loving the rough treatment.

"Look at me while I use your throat," you command. Her eyes lock onto yours, full of submission and need. "Such a good little fucktoy... so different from the bitch who used to bully me..."

She reaches down to play with herself again as you fuck her face, two fingers buried in her soaking pussy while her other hand works her clit. The sight of the former bully masturbating while choking on your cock pushes you closer to the edge.

"Gonna cum... gonna paint that pretty face..." You pull out of her mouth, still gripping her hair. "Stick out your tongue and beg for it."

"Please..." her voice is hoarse from the throat fucking. "Please, babe, cum on my face... mark me as your whore... I need it..."

You stroke yourself rapidly, aiming at her upturned face. "Here it comes slut... take it all..."

Your orgasm hits like a truck, shooting thick ropes of cum all over her face. Some lands on her tongue but most covers her cheeks, nose, and forehead. She moans as you mark her, still frantically fingering herself.

"Don't you dare wipe it off," you pant as the last drops fall onto her lips. "I want you to remember who owns you."

She nods, face completely glazed with your seed. "Yours... all yours..."

You tuck yourself back in while she stays on her knees, cum slowly dripping down her face. "Clean yourself up and get back to class. But leave the plug in - I want your ass ready for round two later."

"Yes sir," she says softly, finally dropping the last pretense of attitude.

As you head for the door, you turn back for one last look. She's still kneeling there, face covered in cum, jeans around her thighs, asshole gaping slightly.

Such a perfect sight.

"Oh and Gaeul?" You smirk as she looks up at you. "Try not to be such a bitch for the rest of the day. Or I'll have to teach you another lesson."

She shivers at the threat, clearly already looking forward to it. "No promises... might need another reminder later."

You leave her there to clean up, already planning how you'll use her next. Who would've thought that all it took to tame the tomboy bully was a good ass fucking?

The bell rings as you head back to class, already getting hard again thinking about round two. Maybe you take her home and fuck her in your bed, or if she can't wait that long, an empty classroom will do just as well.... The possibilities are endless when you have such an eager anal whore at your disposal.

—

Later that week, you're hanging out with friends at the campus coffee shop when Gaeul suggests everyone come to her place to watch something.

—

The movie blares on the TV screen, flickering shadows across the room. Your friends are all sprawled out, zoned in, eyes glued to the action unfolding. But you? You’re only half-paying attention because Gaeul's sitting beside you, her hand resting a little too close, fingers drumming against the couch arm. Every slight touch feels like electricity shooting through your veins.

Then she shifts, stretches out her arms with a feigned yawn. "I'm grabbing something upstairs," she mumbles to the room. No one even looks up. She rises, tossing a quick, knowing glance your way before slipping out. Your cock throbs in your pants as you watch her walk away, her ass moving in those intentionally short shorts.

You count to sixty slowly before making your own excuse.

"Just gonna grab another beer," you say casually. No one even looks up from the TV.

Perfect.

Your heart pounds as you climb the stairs, already imagining how you're going to wreck that tight ass. The door to Gaeul's bedroom is slightly ajar, warm light spilling into the hallway. You open the door slowly and there she is, sitting cross-legged on the bed, waiting for you, her ankle bouncing impatiently.

“I thought you’d never show up,” she says with a smile.

Without wasting any time, you approach and spin Gaeul around and roughly bend her over the edge of the bed, yanking her panties down in one swift motion. Your cock throbs at the sight of her tight little asshole already glistening with lube - this dirty slut came prepared, knowing she was going to get her ass destroyed tonight.

"Fucking horny little whore," you growl, giving her ass a hard slap that makes her yelp. "Already lubed up and ready for my cock. Bet you've been thinking about this all day."

"Please," she whimpers, pushing her ass back toward you. "Need it so bad..."

You unzip your pants and pull out your rock-hard cock, giving it a few slow strokes as you admire her puckered hole. Your free hand spreads her ass cheeks wider, making her squirm with anticipation.

"Beg for it," you command, rubbing your cockhead teasingly against her entrance. "Tell me exactly what you want."

"Fuck, please... need your fat cock in my tight little asshole," she pants desperately. "Want you to stretch me open and wreck my ass while everyone's downstairs. Please fuck me like the anal slut I am!"

You press your thick tip against her hole, watching it start to stretch around your girth. "Such a dirty fucking whore, begging to get ass-fucked with your friends right below us. What would they think if they knew their tough tomboy friend was really just a cock-hungry buttslut?"

Gaeul moans as you start pushing into her impossibly tight hole. The lube helps, but her ass still grips your cock like a vice as you feed more and more of your length into her. You can feel every ridge and fold of her inner walls clinging to your shaft.

"Holy fuck, you're so tight... No matter how many times I ruin your ass, it always looks like virgin territory," you grunt, gripping her hips harder. "That little asshole is squeezing my cock so good."

"More," she gasps, biting down on her pillow to muffle her sounds. "Fill me up, stretch my ass open!"

You continue pushing forward until your balls are pressed against her dripping pussy. Your entire cock is buried in her ass, making her feel completely stuffed and stretched. You hold still for a moment, savoring the incredible tightness.

"That's it, take every inch like a good little anal whore," you growl in her ear, reaching around to roughly grope her small tits. Her nipples are rock hard between your fingers. "Ready to get that ass pounded?"

"Yes! Please fuck me hard," she begs in a desperate whisper. "Wreck my tight hole!"

You pull back until just the tip remains inside, then slam forward balls-deep in one brutal thrust. Gaeul lets out a choked cry into the pillow as you establish a rough rhythm, your cock pistoning in and out of her stretched asshole.

The wet sounds of anal sex fill the room - the obscene squelching of lube, the meaty slap of your balls against her pussy, the muffled moans she can't quite contain. Her whole body rocks with the force of your thrusts as you hammer into her tight hole.

"Fuck yes, take that cock," you grunt, watching your shaft disappear over and over into her gripping asshole. "Love seeing this tight little hole stretch around my fat cock. Such a perfect anal slut."

You grab a handful of her hair and yank her head back, making her arch her spine. The new angle lets you drive even deeper into her ass, hitting spots that make her whole body tremble.

"Harder!" she gasps, pushing back to meet your thrusts. "Fucking destroy my ass, make me your buttslut!"

You respond by increasing your pace, absolutely ravaging her tight hole. Your heavy balls slap against her soaking wet pussy with each thrust. She's so turned on that her juices are running down her thighs.

"Look at you, getting your pussy all wet from taking it in the ass," you taunt, reaching down to rub her swollen clit. "Such a nasty little whore, getting off on having your asshole stretched open."

Gaeul can only whimper and moan in response, completely lost in the pleasure of being used. Her ass grips and pulses around your cock, trying to milk the cum from your balls.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway makes you both freeze. Your cock throbs inside her stretched hole as you hold perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe. The footsteps pause right outside the door.

Your hand clamps over Gaeul's mouth as you stay buried balls-deep in her ass. You can feel her heart pounding, her asshole clenching even tighter around your shaft from the fear of getting caught.

After what feels like an eternity, the footsteps continue past the door and fade away down the hall. As soon as they're gone, you resume fucking her even harder than before, driven wild by the close call.

"Dirty fucking slut, almost got us caught," you growl, punctuating each word with a brutal thrust. "Maybe I should let them catch us, let them see what a cock-hungry anal whore you really are."

She shakes her head frantically but her pussy gushes at the thought, coating your balls in her juices. The way her ass grips you tells you she's getting close to cumming.

"That's it, squeeze that cock with your tight little hole," you grunt, feeling your own orgasm building. "Gonna flood this ass with cum, mark you as my personal buttslut."

Your fingers work her clit faster as you pound her stretched asshole. Gaeul's whole body starts to shake as she approaches her peak. Her inner walls clamp down almost painfully tight around your thrusting cock.

"Cum for me," you command. "Cum with my fat cock buried in your ass like the anal slut you are!"

She explodes around you, her orgasm making her squirt all over the bed as her ass spasms around your shaft. The intense tightness pushes you over the edge and you grunt as your cock swells.

"Take it, take my fucking load," you growl as you empty your balls deep in her ass. Rope after rope of hot cum floods her stretched hole while she continues to shake and moan through her own orgasm.

You keep thrusting through both your climaxes, making obscene squelching sounds as your cum starts leaking out around your cock. Her ass is still rhythmically clenching, milking every last drop from your balls.

When you finally pull out, her gaping asshole immediately starts leaking your thick load. You watch mesmerized as white cum drips down her thighs and pools on the bedspread below.

"Holy fuck," Gaeul pants, collapsing onto the bed. Her hole is still twitching and leaking, thoroughly used and marked as yours. "That was so fucking good..."

You give her ass one slap, admiring the way it makes more cum leak out. "That's what happens to me when you keep teasing me all day long. Get your ass stretched and filled with cum while your friends are right downstairs."

She shivers at your words, reaching back to feel her gaping, cum-filled hole. "My ass is gonna be so sore tomorrow…”

"Yeah, and you love it, don't you?!"

Your cock gives an interested twitch as you watch her finger herself, scooping some of your cum out of her stretched hole. To your surprise and arousal, she brings her cum-covered fingers to her mouth and sucks them clean.

"Dirty fucking slut," you growl, feeling yourself starting to harden again already. "You really can't get enough, can you?"

She grins up at you, still tasting your cum on her tongue. "What can I say? You've turned me into such a whore for your cock. Especially in my ass."

You grab her hair and pull her up for a rough kiss, tasting yourself on her lips. Your rapidly hardening cock presses against her stomach as you devour her mouth.

"Ready for another round already?" she asks breathlessly when you break apart, feeling your erection growing. "Gonna wreck my ass again?"

"Fuck yes," you grunt, spinning her around and pushing her face-down into the mattress. "Gonna use this tight little hole until you can't walk straight tomorrow."

You spread her ass cheeks, admiring how her gaping hole is still leaking your previous load. The sight of your cum dripping from her stretched asshole has you rock hard again in seconds.

"Please," she whimpers, wiggling her hips invitingly. "Fill me up again, use me like your personal anal slut!"

You line your cock up with her cum-lubed hole and push back inside with one smooth thrust. She's still incredibly tight despite being stretched and filled with your load.

"Fuck, love how this greedy little hole just swallows my cock," you growl, starting to pound her ass again. "Such a perfect little anal whore, always ready to take it in the ass."

The mixture of cum and lube makes obscene squelching sounds as you fuck her stretched hole. Your previous load leaks out around your shaft with each thrust, running down her thighs.

"Yes! Use my ass, wreck my tight little hole!" she moans into the pillow. "Love being your anal slut!"

You grab her hips and really start hammering into her, making the bed creak dangerously. Her whole body bounces with the force of your thrusts as you ravage her sensitive hole.

Your balls slap against her dripping pussy, already coated in a mixture of her juices and your leaking cum. The dirty sounds of anal sex fill the room once again.

"Such a nasty little whore," you grunt, reaching around to pinch and twist her hard nipples. "Getting your ass fucked twice while your friends are right downstairs. Bet you love the risk of getting caught, don't you?"

"Yes!" she gasps, pushing back to meet your brutal thrusts. "Love being your secret anal slut, love taking your fat cock in my tight little ass!"

You pull her up by her hair until her back is pressed against your chest, changing the angle of penetration. Your cock drives even deeper into her stretched hole as you fuck up into her.

"That's it, ride this cock like the buttslut you are," you growl in her ear, one hand around her throat. "Show me how badly you need it in your ass."

Gaeul starts bouncing on your cock, working her hips in tight circles that make her ass grip you like a vice. Her small tits bounce with each movement as she impales herself on your shaft.

"Gonna cum again," she whimpers after a few minutes of riding you. "Please make me cum with your cock in my ass!"

You throw her back down onto the bed and really start drilling her stretched hole, pounding her g-spot through her ass wall. Your fingers find her clit again, rubbing quick circles as you ravage her.

"Cum for me, you dirty anal whore," you command. "Cum all over my cock while I wreck this tight little asshole!"

She explodes around you for the second time, her whole body convulsing as she squirts all over the already-soaked bed. Her ass clamps down painfully tight on your thrusting cock.

The incredible tightness pushes you over the edge again. You bury yourself balls-deep in her spasming hole as your cock swells and pulses.

"Take it, take another load in this slutty ass," you grunt as you empty your balls inside her again. Rope after rope of hot cum floods her already-full hole while she continues to shake through her own orgasm.

When you finally pull out, her thoroughly used asshole gapes obscenely, leaking a river of white cum onto the bed. She collapses face-down, completely fucked out and marked as yours.

"Holy fuck," she pants, reaching back to feel her destroyed hole still leaking your loads. "Fuck, I'm gonna be leaking your load all night now."

"Next time I'm gonna make you wear a plug to keep my cum inside you," you tell Gaeul as you lay down next to her, catching your breath. "Make you sit through the whole movie feeling your ass full of my load."

She shivers at the thought, clearly turned on despite being thoroughly fucked out. "Fuck, I don't think I've ever been as naughty as I am with you now...." After a moment, she rolls over to face you with an unusually serious expression. "Hey... I need to tell you something," she says quietly. "I'm getting tired of hiding this. Hiding us."

Your heart skips a beat. "What do you mean?"

"I mean... fuck, this started as just casual sex after you put me in my place that day. But somewhere along the way I actually started having deep feelings for you." She looks away, clearly uncomfortable with the vulnerability. "And I'm sick of pretending I don't."

You're quiet for a long moment, processing this. "I feel the same way," you finally admit. "Have for a while now."

Her eyes snap back to yours. "Really?"

"Really." You pull her closer. "I love how you try to act all tough, but I know what a needy little slut you really are. Love making you fall apart on my cock. But I also just... love being around you. Even when we're not fucking. I love when you laugh at my jokes now, much better than when you pretended not to like them. I always thought your laugh was cute."

A genuine smile spreads across her face - not her usual cocky smirk. "So what do we do about it?"

"Well, we could tell everyone we're dating," you suggest. "No more sneaking around."

"Mmm..." She pretends to consider it. "Or we could keep this our dirty little secret for a while longer. The sneaking around is pretty hot."

You grin and squeeze her ass. "True. Nothing like fucking you with the risk of getting caught."

"Exactly." She kisses you deeply. "Let's give it another month of secret fucking. Then we can go public."

"Deal." You slap her ass playfully. "Now get dressed before they come looking for us."

She quickly pulls her clothes back on, wincing slightly. "I don't know how I'm going to be able to sit in the chair tomorrow in class."

"Good." You zip up your pants. "Something to remember me by while you study."

You head back downstairs first, trying to act casual as you rejoin the group. A few minutes later, Gaeul returns with a bowl of chips like nothing happened.

But you catch her squirming uncomfortably on the couch, feeling your cum leak out of her ass. The secret knowledge of what you just did makes your cock start to stiffen again.

She notices and gives you that familiar smirk. You know you'll be sneaking off to fuck again before the night is over. Maybe this time you'll bend her over the bathroom sink and stuff her pussy full of cock while she tries to stay quiet.

The thought of all the secret hookups to come over the next month has your head spinning. Every stolen moment will be even hotter now that you know there are real feelings involved.

But for now, you focus on the movie and try not to make it obvious that you just railed your friend's ass upstairs.

The perfect crime - except for the cum still dripping down her thighs.

[pucksandpower]

Be My Sanctuary

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Charles never expected to play Prince Charming to a stranger after a race, but when he comes across you being beaten by your boyfriend, he can’t just stand around and do nothing … it turns out to be exactly what you both needed

Warnings: domestic violence, abuse, and serious injury

The sun dips low on the horizon as Charles Leclerc and Fred Vasseur make their way back to the Ferrari motorhome. The air buzzes with post-race energy, a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration.

“That was some driving out there,” Fred says, clapping the Monégasque on the back. “P2 is nothing to sneeze at.”

Charles grins, his eyes bright despite the fatigue etched on his face. “Merci beaucoup. It felt good to be back on the podium. I think we’re really starting to find our rhythm with the car.”

“Agreed. If we can keep this momentum going-”

A sharp crack cuts through the air, followed by a cry of pain that makes both men freeze in their tracks.

Charles’ head whips around. “Did you hear that?”

Fred nods, his expression grim. “It came from over there.” He points towards a secluded area behind one of the hospitality units.

Without hesitation, they break into a run, rounding the corner just in time to see a man’s hand connect with a woman’s face. The sound of the impact turns Charles’ stomach.

“You stupid bitch!” The man screams, his face contorted with rage. “Do you have any idea how much money I lost because of you? I told you not to come to the race! You’re bad luck!”

You stumble backward, your hand pressed to your cheek. “I-I’m sorry,” you stammer. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Shut up!” The man lunges forward, grabbing you by the arms and shaking you violently. “You cost me everything!”

Charles feels a surge of anger course through him. Without thinking, he sprints towards the pair, Fred close on his heels.

“Hey!” Charles shouts. “Let her go!”

The man’s head snaps up, his eyes wild. For a split second, he looks startled, but then his face twists into a snarl. Before Charles can reach them, the man slams your head against the brick wall with a sickening thud.

You crumple to the ground, unmoving.

Charles tackles the man, driving him away from the fallen woman. They hit the ground hard, and Charles feels the air rush out of his lungs. But adrenaline keeps him moving, and he manages to pin the larger man down.

“Fred!” He calls out. “Check on her!”

As Charles struggles to keep the man subdued, he hears Fred’s sharp intake of breath.

“Charles, she’s not responding. There’s ... there’s a lot of blood.”

The words send a chill down Charles’ spine. He glances over his shoulder and sees you lying motionless on the ground, a dark pool spreading beneath your head.

“Someone call an ambulance!” Charles shouts, hoping someone nearby will hear. He turns back to the man beneath him, who’s still thrashing and cursing. “Stop moving!” Charles hisses, pressing his forearm against the man’s chest.

“Get off me!” The man spits. “This is none of your business!”

Charles feels a fresh wave of rage wash over him. “None of my business? You just assaulted someone!”

Fred’s voice cuts through the chaos. “I’ve called for help. They’re on their way.” He’s kneeling beside you now, his jacket pressed against your head. “But it doesn’t look good. She needs immediate medical attention.”

The sound of running footsteps approaches, and suddenly there are more people around them. Charles recognizes some of the faces — other drivers, team personnel. Someone pulls him off the attacker, who’s quickly restrained by security.

Charles stumbles to his feet, his heart pounding. He makes his way over to where you lie, dropping to his knees beside Fred.

“Is she ...” He can’t bring himself to finish the question.

Fred shakes his head. “She’s alive, but barely. We need to keep pressure on the wound until the paramedics arrive.”

Charles nods, placing his hands over Fred’s on the makeshift compress. He looks down at your face, so pale and still. “Hold on,” he whispers. “Just hold on.”

The wait for the ambulance feels interminable. Charles keeps his eyes fixed on your chest, watching for the slight rise and fall that tells him you’re still breathing. He’s vaguely aware of the commotion around them — people asking questions, security trying to keep everyone back.

“What happened?” It’s Lewis’ voice, tinged with concern.

Fred answers, his voice low and tight. “Domestic violence. The boyfriend ...” He trails off, but the implication is clear.

“Jesus,” Lewis mutters. “Is there anything we can do?”

Charles looks up, meeting Lewis’ worried gaze. “Just ... pray, I guess.”

The sound of sirens cuts through the air, growing louder by the second. Charles feels a small measure of relief, but it’s quickly overshadowed by fear as he looks back down at you.

“Stay with us,” he murmurs. “Help is coming. Just stay with us.”

The paramedics arrive in a flurry of activity, gently but firmly moving Charles and Fred aside. Charles watches, feeling helpless, as they work on you with practiced efficiency.

“Severe head trauma,” one of them says. “We need to move her now.”

As they lift you onto a stretcher, Charles catches a glimpse of your face. There’s a bruise blooming on your cheek, stark against your pale skin. Something twists in his chest, a mixture of anger and an emotion he can’t quite name.

“I’m going with her,” he says suddenly, surprising himself.

Fred puts a hand on his shoulder. “Charles, I don’t think-”

“I need to make sure she’s okay,” Charles insists. He looks at Fred, pleading. “Someone needs to be there for her.”

After a moment, Fred nods. “Alright. I’ll handle things here and meet you at the hospital.”

Charles climbs into the ambulance, his eyes never leaving your still form. As the doors close and the vehicle lurches into motion, he reaches out and gently takes your hand.

“I don’t know if you can hear me,” he says softly, “but you’re not alone. I’m right here with you. And I promise, you’re going to be okay.”

As the ambulance speeds through the streets, sirens wailing, Charles finds himself holding onto your hand like a lifeline. He’s not sure if he’s trying to comfort you or himself.

The paramedic working on you glances at Charles. “You know her?”

Charles shakes his head. “No, I ... we just found her. Her boyfriend was ...” He swallows hard. “We stopped him, but not soon enough.”

The paramedic’s face softens with understanding. “You did the right thing. You probably saved her life by intervening when you did.”

Charles nods, but the words bring little comfort. He can’t shake the image of your head hitting the wall, the sound it made. He squeezes your hand gently.

“Fight,” he whispers. “Please fight.”

The rest of the ride passes in a blur of medical jargon and the steady beep of monitors. When they finally arrive at the hospital, Charles is ushered into a waiting room while you’re rushed into emergency surgery.

He paces the small room, unable to sit still. His mind races with questions. Who are you? Why would someone do this to you? Will you be okay?

Time seems to stretch endlessly. Charles checks his phone, sees messages from Fred and other concerned friends, but he can’t bring himself to respond yet. Not until he knows something.

Finally, after what feels like hours, a doctor approaches him. Charles stands, his heart in his throat.

“Are you here for the young woman brought in with head trauma?” The doctor asks.

Charles nods. “Yes. Is she ...”

“She’s out of surgery,” the doctor says. “We’ve managed to relieve the pressure on her brain, but the next 24 hours will be critical. Are you family?”

Charles hesitates. “No, I ... I was there when it happened. I rode here with her in the ambulance.”

The doctor’s expression softens slightly. “I see. Well, I can tell you that she’s stable for now, but still unconscious. We’ll be monitoring her closely.”

“Can I see her?” The words are out of Charles’ mouth before he can think better of it.

The doctor considers for a moment. “Normally we only allow family, but ... given the circumstances, I think we can make an exception. Just for a few minutes.”

Charles follows the doctor down a series of hallways, his heart pounding. When they reach your room, he pauses at the doorway, suddenly unsure.

“Go on,” the doctor says gently. “Talk to her. Sometimes patients can hear even when they’re unconscious.”

Taking a deep breath, Charles steps into the room. The sight of you lying there, surrounded by machines, makes his chest tighten. He moves to your bedside, carefully taking your hand once more.

“Hey,” he says softly. “It’s Charles. The guy from before. I don’t know if you remember, but ... I’m here. You’re safe now.”

He stands there for a long moment, just holding your hand and watching the steady rise and fall of your chest. It’s strange, he thinks, to feel so connected to someone he’s never even spoken to.

“I don’t know your story,” he continues, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I want you to know that you didn’t deserve this. No one does. And when you wake up — because you will wake up — you won’t be alone. I promise.”

A nurse appears in the doorway, signaling that his time is up. Charles gives your hand one last gentle squeeze before reluctantly letting go.

As he leaves the room, he turns back for one last look. “I’ll be back,” he says. “Stay strong.”

Walking back to the waiting room, Charles feels a mix of emotions he can’t quite sort out. But one thing is clear — something has changed. And whatever happens next, he knows he’ll be there to see it through.

***

Days blend into one another as Charles maintains his vigil at your bedside. The rest of the Formula 1 circus has long since departed, but Charles can’t bring himself to leave. He’s made arrangements with the team, grateful for their understanding, and settled into a routine of sorts.

Each morning, he arrives at the hospital with fresh flowers and a determination that today might be the day you wake up. He talks to you, reads to you, and sometimes just sits in companionable silence, the steady beep of monitors a constant backdrop.

On the fifth day, as Charles is midway through reading an article about the benefits of having a dachshund, he notices a slight change. Your fingers twitch, almost imperceptibly. He leans forward, heart racing.

“Hey,” he says softly, taking your hand. “Can you hear me? If you can, squeeze my hand.”

For a long moment, nothing happens. Then, so faintly he almost misses it, he feels a gentle pressure against his palm. His breath catches in his throat.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “You’re doing great. Can you open your eyes for me?”

Slowly, painfully slowly, your eyelids flutter open. Your gaze is unfocused at first, confusion evident in your expression as you try to make sense of your surroundings.

“It’s okay,” Charles says, keeping his voice low and soothing. “You’re in the hospital. You’re safe now.”

You blink a few times, your gaze finally settling on Charles. Your brow furrows slightly, and you open your mouth to speak, but no sound comes out.

“Don’t try to talk just yet,” Charles advises. “Your throat might be sore from the tube. Here.” He reaches for a cup of water with a straw, holding it to your lips. “Small sips, okay?”

You take a tentative sip, wincing slightly. After a moment, you try again to speak. Your voice is raspy, barely above a whisper. “Who ...”

“I’m Charles,” he says. “I was there when ... when you got hurt. Do you remember anything?”

You close your eyes, a pained expression crossing your face. “Jake,” you murmur. “He was angry ...”

Charles feels a flare of anger at the mention of your boyfriend’s name, but he keeps his voice calm. “That’s right. He hurt you pretty badly. But you’re safe now. He can’t get to you here.”

You shake your head slightly, wincing at the movement. “It wasn’t his fault,” you say. “He just ... he gets upset sometimes. I shouldn’t have gone to the race. I knew it would make him angry.”

Charles frowns, recognizing the pattern of self-blame common in abuse victims. He takes a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “Listen,” he says gently. “What happened to you wasn’t your fault. No matter how angry someone gets, they don’t have the right to hurt you. Ever.”

You look away, tears welling up in your eyes. “You don’t understand. Jake ... he loves me. He just has a temper sometimes.”

“Love shouldn’t hurt,” Charles says firmly. “Love doesn’t leave you in the hospital with a skull fracture.”

Your eyes widen slightly at this information. “Is that ... is that what happened to me?”

Charles nods solemnly. “You’ve been unconscious for five days. The doctors ... they weren’t sure if you’d wake up at all.”

A tear slips down your cheek. “I don’t ... I don’t know what to do now.”

“You press charges,” Charles says without hesitation. “What he did to you was a crime. He needs to face the consequences of his actions.”

You shake your head frantically, wincing again at the movement. “No, I can’t. He’d be so angry. He ...”

“He would what?” Charles presses gently. “Hurt you again? That’s exactly why you need to do this. To protect yourself and maybe even others.”

You’re quiet for a long moment, tears falling silently. “I’m scared,” you finally whisper.

Charles squeezes your hand. “I know. And that’s okay. Being scared doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you’re human. But you’re stronger than you know. You survived this. You can survive what comes next, too.”

“But where would I go?” You ask, your voice small. “Jake ... he made me drop out of school. I had to quit my job. I don’t have anywhere to go, or any money, or ...”

Your words trail off as a fresh wave of tears overtakes you. Charles feels a surge of protectiveness, coupled with a deep anger at the man who has left you in this situation.

“Hey,” he says softly, waiting until you meet his gaze. “I know we’ve only just met, and this might sound crazy, but ... what if you came to stay with me for a while?”

You blink in surprise. “What?”

“I live in Monaco,” Charles explains. “I know it’s far from here, but maybe that’s a good thing. It would give you some distance, some time to figure things out without having to worry about ... about him finding you.”

“But ... but I couldn’t,” you stammer. “I don’t have any money, I can’t pay rent or-”

Charles shakes his head. “I’m not asking for rent. I’m offering you a safe place to stay while you get back on your feet. No strings attached.”

You look at him skeptically. “Why would you do that for a stranger?”

Charles is quiet for a moment, considering his answer. “Because when I saw what was happening to you, I couldn’t just walk away. And I can’t walk away now, knowing you need help. Maybe it’s not my place, maybe it’s crossing some line, but ... I want to help. If you’ll let me.”

You’re silent for a long moment, and Charles can almost see the wheels turning in your mind as you weigh your options.

“What about your job?” You finally ask. “Don’t you have races to go to?”

Charles nods. “I do. But I have a big apartment, and there’s plenty of room. You’d have your own space. And when I’m away for races, I have friends who could check in on you, make sure you have everything you need.”

You bite your lip, looking torn. “I don’t know ... it’s a lot to take in.”

“Of course,” Charles says quickly. “You don’t have to decide right now. Take some time to think about it. But know that the offer is there if you want it.”

Just then, a nurse enters the room. Her face lights up when she sees you’re awake. “Well, look who’s back with us,” she says warmly. “I’ll go get the doctor. He’ll want to check you over.”

As the nurse leaves, you turn back to Charles. “You should go,” you say. “You’ve already done so much. You don’t need to stay.”

Charles stands, but he doesn’t move towards the door. “I’ll step out while the doctor examines you,” he says. “But if it’s okay with you, I’d like to come back after. We can talk more about ... everything.”

You hesitate for a moment before nodding. “Okay,” you say softly. “And ... thank you. For being here. For caring.”

Charles feels a warmth spread through his chest. “Of course,” he says. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

As he steps into the hallway, Charles takes a deep breath. He knows he’s getting involved in a complicated situation, one that could have far-reaching consequences. But looking back at you through the doorway, he knows he’s made the right choice. Whatever comes next, he’ll be there to help you through it.

The doctor arrives, and Charles settles into a chair in the hallway. He pulls out his phone, scrolling through the messages he’s neglected over the past few days. There’s one from Fred, asking for an update. Charles types out a quick reply.

She’s awake. It’s complicated, but I think she’s going to be okay. I’ll call you later with details.

As he hits send, Charles leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. He knows the road ahead won’t be easy, for either of you. But for the first time in days, he feels a spark of hope. It’s a start, he thinks. And sometimes, that’s all you need.

***

The sunlight glints off the sleek exterior of the private jet as Charles helps you up the stairs. He can feel the slight tremor in your hand as he guides you inside, noting the way your eyes dart nervously around the cabin.

“Welcome aboard,” Charles says with a warm smile, hoping to put you at ease. “Make yourself comfortable. We’ve got a bit of a flight ahead of us.”

You nod, your lips pressed into a thin line as you sink into one of the plush leather seats. Charles settles in across from you, watching as you fumble with the seatbelt.

“Here, let me help,” he offers, leaning forward to assist. As he clicks the belt into place, he notices your knuckles turning white as you grip the armrests. “First time flying?” He asks gently.

You let out a shaky laugh. “Is it that obvious?”

Charles shakes his head, his expression kind. “Not at all. But I fly a lot, so I’ve gotten pretty good at spotting nervous passengers.”

The engines roar to life, and you jump slightly in your seat. “I’m sorry,” you mutter, looking embarrassed. “I didn’t realize I’d be this scared.”

“Hey, no need to apologize,” Charles assures you. “It’s a completely normal fear. Did you know that even some drivers get nervous on planes?”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Really? But you guys race at insane speeds for a living.”

Charles chuckles. “I know, it sounds crazy. But it’s true. I think it’s about control. In a car, we’re in charge. On a plane, we have to trust someone else.”

You nod, seeming to relax slightly at his words. But as the plane begins to taxi, your grip on the armrests tightens again.

“So,” Charles says, leaning forward slightly. “Tell me about what you were studying before ... well, before everything happened.”

You look at him, confusion briefly replacing the fear in your eyes. “What?”

“You mentioned you had to drop out of school,” Charles explains. “What were you studying?”

A small laugh escapes you, tinged with irony. “You’re going to think this is ridiculous, but ... I was studying law.”

Charles’ eyebrows shoot up. “Law? That’s impressive. Why would I think it’s ridiculous?”

You shrug, a hint of sadness creeping into your expression. “Just seems a bit ironic now, doesn’t it? Studying law and then ending up in a situation like ... like mine.”

The plane begins to accelerate down the runway, and you squeeze your eyes shut, your breath coming in short gasps.

“Hey,” Charles says softly, reaching across to place his hand over yours. “Look at me. It’s okay. We’re okay.”

You open your eyes, meeting his gaze. Charles can see the fear there, but also a flicker of determination.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Now, tell me more about your law studies. What made you choose that field?”

You take a deep breath, clearly making an effort to focus on the conversation rather than the plane’s ascent. “I’ve always been interested in justice, I guess. Helping people who can’t help themselves. I wanted to make a difference.”

Charles nods, a small smile playing at his lips. “That’s admirable. And you know what? I don’t think it’s ironic at all that you were studying law. If anything, I think it shows how strong you are.”

The plane levels off, and some of the tension leaves your body. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Charles says, leaning back in his seat but keeping his hand on yours, “you chose a field dedicated to justice and helping others. That takes courage and compassion. The fact that you ended up in a difficult situation doesn’t change who you are at your core.”

You’re quiet for a moment, considering his words. “I never thought about it like that,” you admit.

“Have you thought about going back to school?” Charles asks. “Finishing your degree?”

You shake your head, a flash of pain crossing your face. “I can’t. I don’t have the money, and even if I did, I can’t go back to my old university. Jake ... he knows where it is. He’d find me.”

Charles nods, understanding. “What if you didn’t have to go back to your old university? What if you could start fresh somewhere new?”

You look at him skeptically. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Charles says, his mind racing with possibilities, “there are online programs you could look into. Or, if you prefer in-person classes, there’s the International University of Monaco. It’s a great school, and it would be close to where you’ll be staying.”

Your eyes widen slightly. “Monaco has a university?”

Charles nods, a grin spreading across his face. “It does indeed. And they have a law program. I could help you look into it if you’re interested.”

You bite your lip, looking uncertain. “I don’t know. It’s been a while since I was in school. And the cost ...”

“Don’t worry about the cost,” Charles says quickly. “Consider it an investment in your future. And as for being out of practice, well, that’s what studying is for, right?”

A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. “You make it sound so simple.”

Charles shrugs. “Maybe it is. Sometimes we overcomplicate things in our heads. But the truth is, if it’s something you want to do, there’s usually a way to make it happen.”

The plane encounters a patch of turbulence, causing it to shake slightly. Your grip on Charles’ hand tightens, but you don’t close your eyes this time.

“Sorry,” you mutter, loosening your grip slightly.

“No need to apologize,” Charles says. “I’m here if you need a hand to hold. Or a distraction. Speaking of which, why don’t you tell me about your favorite class from when you were in school?”

As you launch into a story about a particularly engaging Constitutional Law seminar, Charles can’t help but notice how your eyes light up. It’s the most animated he’s seen you since you woke up in the hospital, and it fills him with a sense of hope.

The rest of the flight passes in a blur of conversation. You tell Charles about your favorite professors, the most interesting cases you studied, and your obsession with Legally Blonde while growing up. In turn, Charles shares stories from his racing career, the challenges he’s faced, and the lessons he’s learned along the way.

Before either of you realize it, the captain’s voice comes over the intercom, announcing your descent into Nice.

“Oh,” you say, surprise evident in your voice. “We’re here already?”

Charles grins. “See? Not so bad, was it?”

You shake your head, a small laugh escaping you. “I guess not. Thank you, Charles. For ... well, for everything.”

As the plane touches down on the runway, Charles feels a warmth spread through his chest. “You’re welcome,” he says softly. “And hey, this is just the beginning, right?”

You nod, a mix of nervousness and excitement in your eyes. “Right. The beginning.”

The plane comes to a stop, and Charles stands, offering you his hand. “Ready to see your new home?”

You take a deep breath, then place your hand in his. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

As you make their way down the steps of the plane, Charles can’t help but feel a sense of anticipation. He knows the road ahead won’t be easy, but looking at you now, seeing the spark of determination in your eyes, he’s filled with hope for what the future might hold.

The Mediterranean sun greets them as they step onto the tarmac, warm and welcoming. Charles watches as you take in your surroundings, your eyes wide with wonder.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathe, gazing at the azure sea in the distance.

Charles smiles, feeling a surge of pride for his home. “Wait until you see the rest of it. Come on, let’s get you settled in.”

As you walk towards the waiting Ferrari, Charles finds himself stealing glances at you. There’s still fear and uncertainty in your eyes, but there’s something else too — a resilience that he admires. He makes a silent promise to himself, right there on the sun-drenched tarmac of the Côte d’Azur, to do whatever he can to help you rebuild your life.

“So,” he says as you slide into the passenger seat, “shall we swing by the university on our way home? Just to have a look?”

You hesitate for a moment, then nod. “Yeah,” you say, a small smile playing at your lips. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

***

The quiet of the night is shattered by a piercing scream. Charles bolts upright in his bed, heart racing, momentarily disoriented. Then realization hits him like a wave — it’s you.

Without hesitation, he leaps out of bed and races down the hallway to your room. He bursts through the door to find you thrashing in your sheets, eyes squeezed shut, still caught in the grip of your nightmare.

“No, Jake, please!” You cry out, your voice raw with fear. “Don’t hurt me!”

Charles is at your side in an instant, gently placing his hands on your shoulders. “Hey, hey,” he says softly but firmly. “It’s okay. You’re safe. It’s just a dream.”

Your eyes fly open, wild and unfocused. For a moment, you recoil from his touch, still trapped between nightmare and reality.

“It’s me,” Charles says, keeping his voice calm. “It’s Charles. You’re in Monaco, remember? You’re safe here.”

Slowly, recognition dawns in your eyes. “Charles?” You whisper, your voice trembling.

He nods, offering a reassuring smile. “That’s right. I’m here. You’re okay.”

The tension leaves your body all at once, and you collapse against him, tears streaming down your face. Charles wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you sob into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out between sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shh,” Charles soothes, running a hand gently up and down your back. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It was just a nightmare.”

You pull back slightly, wiping at your tears with shaking hands. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I feel so stupid.”

Charles shakes his head firmly. “You’re not stupid. Nightmares are normal after what you’ve been through. And I’m glad I woke up. I want to be here for you.”

You take a shuddering breath, trying to calm yourself. “It felt so real,” you whisper. “I could feel his hands on me, hear his voice ...”

“But it wasn’t real,” Charles reminds you gently. “He can’t hurt you anymore. I won’t let him.”

You nod, but Charles can see the lingering fear in your eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asks.

You shake your head. “No, I ... I just want to forget.”

“Okay,” Charles says, understanding. “Is there anything I can do? Maybe get you some water or tea?”

You bite your lip, looking uncertain. “Could you ... would you mind staying? Just until I fall asleep?” The words come out in a rush, as if you’re afraid to ask.

Charles feels a surge of protectiveness. “Of course,” he says without hesitation. “I’ll stay as long as you need me to.”

Relief washes over your face. “Thank you,” you whisper.

Charles helps you settle back against the pillows, then hesitates for a moment. “Is it okay if I ...” He gestures to the other side of the bed.

You nod, shifting over slightly to make room. Charles slips under the sheets, careful to maintain a respectful distance. But you surprise him by moving closer, seeking comfort in his presence.

“Is this okay?” You ask, your voice small.

“Of course,” Charles assures you. He opens his arms, offering an embrace without pressure. “Whatever you need.”

You hesitate for just a moment before curling into his side, your head resting on his chest. Charles wraps his arms around you, feeling the rapid beat of your heart against his side.

“Try to relax,” he murmurs. “Focus on your breathing. In and out, nice and slow.”

You nod against his chest, making a conscious effort to steady your breathing. Charles can feel some of the tension leaving your body as the minutes tick by.

“Charles?” You say after a while, your voice soft in the darkness.

“Hmm?”

“How do you do it?” You ask. “How do you stay so calm and ... and kind, even when I’m such a mess?”

Charles is quiet for a moment, considering his words. “You’re not a mess,” he says finally. “You’re healing. And that takes time. As for staying calm ... well, I’ve had my own struggles. I know what it’s like to need someone in your corner.”

You lift your head slightly, looking up at him. “What do you mean?”

Charles takes a deep breath. He’s never been one to open up easily, but something about the quiet intimacy of the moment makes him want to share.

“Seven years ago now, I lost my father,” he says softly. “It was ... it was the hardest thing I’ve ever been through. There were nights when I thought the pain would swallow me whole. But I had people who stood by me, who helped me through it. They taught me the importance of being there for others in their darkest moments.”

You’re silent for a long moment, absorbing his words. “I’m so sorry about your father,” you say finally. “That must have been awful.”

Charles nods, feeling the familiar ache in his chest. “It was. But it also taught me something important. Pain doesn’t last forever. It changes you, yes, but it doesn’t define you. You can come out the other side stronger.”

“Do you really believe that?” You ask, a hint of doubt in your voice.

“I do,” Charles says firmly. “I’ve seen it in myself, and I see it in you too. You’re stronger than you know.”

You’re quiet again, and Charles can almost hear the wheels turning in your mind. “I want to believe that,” you say eventually. “But sometimes it feels like ... like I’ll never be whole again.”

Charles tightens his embrace slightly. “Healing isn’t about going back to who you were before,” he says. “It’s about becoming someone new. Someone who carries the lessons of the past but isn’t defined by them.”

You nod slowly, considering his words. “That makes sense,” you admit. “It’s just ... it’s hard to see that future sometimes.”

“I know,” Charles says softly. “But that’s why you’re not alone in this. I’m here to remind you of that future when you can’t see it yourself.”

You lift your head again, meeting his gaze in the dim light. “Why are you doing all this for me? You barely know me.”

Charles is struck by the vulnerability in your eyes. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before responding.

“Because when I saw you that day, something inside me just ... knew I had to help,” he says. “I can’t explain it rationally. But I believe that sometimes, people come into our lives for a reason. Maybe I’m meant to help you heal. Or maybe you’re meant to teach me something. I don’t know. But I do know that I want to be here for you, if you’ll let me.”

You study his face for a long moment, as if searching for any sign of insincerity. Finding none, you lay your head back on his chest.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For everything.”

Charles feels a warmth spread through his chest. “You don’t need to thank me,” he says. “Just focus on healing. And remember, you’re not alone in this.”

You nod against his chest, and Charles can feel your body relaxing further. Your breathing becomes slower, more even, and he knows you’re drifting off to sleep.

As the night deepens around you, Charles finds himself wide awake, acutely aware of your warm presence against him. He’s never been in a situation quite like this before, and he’s surprised by how natural it feels.

He thinks about the past few days, about the small victories you’ve already achieved. The way your eyes lit up when you toured the university campus. The quiet determination in your voice when you asked about application procedures. The shy smile that appeared when he showed you around Monaco.

Charles knows the road ahead won’t be easy. There will likely be more nights like this, more nightmares to soothe. But looking down at your peaceful face, finally relaxed in sleep, he feels a surge of hope.

Whatever challenges lie ahead, he’ll be there to face them with you. And somehow, he knows that together, you’ll both come out stronger on the other side.

As the first light of dawn begins to creep through the windows, Charles finally feels his own eyes growing heavy. He allows himself to drift off, still holding you close, a silent promise of protection in his embrace.

In the quiet of the early morning, as the world outside begins to stir, there’s a sense of peace in the room. It’s fragile, perhaps, but it’s there. And for now, in this moment, it’s enough.

***

The first rays of sunlight filter through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. Charles stirs, slowly becoming aware of his surroundings. He feels a weight against his chest and looks down to see you still nestled in his arms, your breathing deep and even.

For a moment, he simply watches you sleep, struck by how peaceful you look compared to the night before. He’s careful not to move, not wanting to disturb your rest. But as the room grows brighter, he sees your eyelids begin to flutter.

You blink awake, confusion briefly clouding your features before recognition sets in. “Charles?” You murmur, your voice still thick with sleep.

“Good morning,” he says softly, offering a gentle smile. “How are you feeling?”

You shift slightly, seeming to become aware of your position. A blush creeps across your cheeks as you pull back a bit. “I’m ... I’m okay,” you say. “I’m sorry about last night. You didn’t have to stay.”

Charles shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. I wanted to stay. I’m just glad you were able to get some rest.”

You nod, running a hand through your tousled hair. “Thank you,” you say quietly. “For everything. I don’t know what I would have done if ...”

Your voice trails off, but Charles understands. “Hey,” he says, gently tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “You don’t need to think about that. You’re here now, and you’re safe. That’s what matters.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. “You’re right. I just ... I’m not used to someone being so kind without expecting anything in return.”

Charles feels a pang in his chest at your words. “Well, get used to it,” he says, injecting a lightness into his tone. “Because that’s just how things work in the Leclerc household.”

You laugh softly, the sound warming Charles from the inside out. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely,” Charles grins. “It’s in the contract. Kindness, comfort, and an abundance of croissants. Speaking of which, are you hungry? I could whip up some breakfast.”

You nod, sitting up slowly. “Breakfast sounds great. But you don’t have to cook. I can manage.”

Charles waves off your protest as he sits up as well. “Nonsense. I insist. Besides, I make a mean omelette. You haven’t lived until you’ve tried my secret recipe.”

Your eyebrows raise in amusement. “Secret recipe, huh? Do I get to know what’s in it?”

Charles taps the side of his nose conspiratorially. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret anymore, would it? You’ll just have to trust me.”

As he moves to get out of bed, a thought strikes him. He hesitates for a moment, then turns back to you. “Actually, before we head to the kitchen, there’s something I wanted to ask you.”

You look at him curiously, a hint of apprehension in your eyes. “Oh?”

Charles takes a deep breath, suddenly feeling nervous. “I was wondering if ... well, if you might want to come to my next race with me?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “Your next race?”

Charles nods, watching your reaction carefully. “Yeah. It’s in a couple of weeks. I thought maybe a change of scenery might be good for you. Plus, you’d get to see what I do up close. But if it’s too soon, or if you’re not comfortable with the idea, I completely understand.”

You’re quiet for a moment, biting your lip as you consider his offer. “I don’t know,” you say hesitantly. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just ... the last time I was at a race ...”

Understanding dawns on Charles’s face. “Oh, of course. I’m sorry, I should have thought of that. We don’t have to go if it brings up bad memories.”

You shake your head quickly. “No, it’s not that. Well, not entirely. It’s just ... I’m worried about being recognized. What if Jake sees me on TV or something?”

Charles leans forward, his expression serious. “Hey, look at me. If you come to the race, you’ll be under the full protection of the team. No one gets near the garage without proper clearance. And as for TV, well, we can make sure you’re not caught on camera if that’s what you want.”

You still look uncertain. “But won’t people wonder who I am? I don’t want to cause any trouble for you or your team.”

Charles can’t help but smile at your concern. “Trust me, the team has dealt with far more complicated situations than this. If anyone asks, we’ll simply say you’re a family friend. No one needs to know the details.”

He watches as you mull over his words, hope building in his chest. Finally, you look up at him, a small smile playing at your lips. “You really want me to come?”

Charles nods emphatically. “I really do. I think it could be good for you. A chance to create some new, positive memories associated with racing. Plus,” he adds with a grin, “I’d love for you to see me in action. I promise I’ll try to put on a good show.”

You laugh, the sound lightening the mood in the room. “Oh, is that so? Pretty confident, aren’t you?”

Charles shrugs, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “What can I say? I aim to impress.”

You shake your head in amusement, but Charles can see you’re still hesitating. “You don’t have to decide right now,” he says gently. “Take some time to think about it. The offer stands whenever you’re ready.”

You nod, looking grateful for the lack of pressure. “Thank you, Charles. I’ll think about it, I promise.”

“That’s all I ask,” he says, standing up and stretching. “Now, how about that breakfast? I believe I promised you a life-changing omelette.”

As you make your way to the kitchen, Charles can’t help but feel a sense of anticipation. He knows he’s taking a risk by inviting you to the race so soon, but something tells him it’s the right move. He’s seen glimpses of your strength over the past few days, and he believes that this could be a crucial step in your healing process.

In the kitchen, Charles busies himself with preparing breakfast, stealing glances at you as you settle at the counter. You still look a bit hesitant, but there’s a spark in your eyes that wasn’t there before.

“So,” he says as he cracks eggs into a bowl, “while you’re thinking about the race, why don’t you tell me more about your law studies? Any particular area you’re most interested in?”

You perk up at the question, and Charles listens intently as you launch into an enthusiastic explanation of your passion for human rights law. As he watches you speak, animated and engaged, he feels a warmth spread through his chest.

This, he thinks, is what healing looks like. Small steps, day by day, reclaiming pieces of yourself. And if he can play even a small part in that process, well, that’s a victory more satisfying than any podium finish.

As he serves up the omelettes, Charles makes a silent promise to himself. Whatever you decide about the race, whatever challenges lie ahead, he’ll be there. Supporting you, cheering you on, just as fiercely as any fan in the grandstands.

Because in this moment, watching you take your first bite and exclaim over his “secret recipe,” Charles realizes something important. In helping you find your strength, he’s discovering new depths of his own.

***

The energy in the paddock is electric as Charles makes his way to the Ferrari garage. He can feel the excitement buzzing through the air, the anticipation of the race to come. But today, there’s an extra flutter in his stomach that has nothing to do with pre-race jitters.

He spots you standing near the back of the garage, looking a bit overwhelmed by the flurry of activity around you. Your eyes light up when you see him, and he can’t help but smile.

“Hey,” he says, approaching you. “How are you holding up?”

You give him a small smile. “It’s ... a lot. But exciting. I can’t believe I’m actually here.”

Charles nods, understanding. “I know it can be overwhelming at first. But you’re doing great. And I have a little surprise for you.”

Your eyebrows raise in curiosity. “A surprise? Charles, you didn’t have to-”

He cuts you off with a grin. “I wanted to. Come on, I’ll show you.”

Charles leads you to a quieter corner of the garage where his race gear is laid out. He picks up his helmet, turning it so you can see the design.

Your eyes widen as you spot the purple ribbon painted prominently on the side. “Is that ...”

Charles nods, his expression softening. “A domestic violence awareness ribbon. I had it added for this race.”

You’re quiet for a moment, your fingers hovering over the ribbon without quite touching it. When you look up at Charles, your eyes are shining with unshed tears. “Why?” You ask softly.

Charles takes a deep breath. “Because I want to use my platform to raise awareness. And because ...” he pauses, meeting your gaze, “because I want you to know that you’re not alone. That there are people out there who care and want to help.”

You blink rapidly, trying to hold back tears. “Charles, I don’t know what to say. This is ... it’s incredible.”

He reaches out, gently squeezing your hand. “You don’t have to say anything. Just know that when I’m out there on the track today, I’m racing for you and for everyone who’s been in your position.”

You nod, unable to speak. Charles understands the emotions you’re feeling — he’s feeling them too.

A voice calls out from across the garage. “Charles! Five minutes!”

Charles turns back to you. “I’ve got to go get ready. Will you be okay?”

You take a deep breath, composing yourself. “I’ll be fine. Go. And Charles?” You meet his eyes, a small smile on your face. “Thank you. For everything.”

He nods, giving your hand one last squeeze before heading off to finish his pre-race preparations.

The race itself is a blur of adrenaline and focus. Charles pushes himself to the limit, hyper-aware of the special helmet he’s wearing and what it represents. When he crosses the finish line in second place, his heart is pounding with more than just exertion.

As he pulls into parc fermé, Charles can see the crowd of reporters already gathering. He takes a deep breath, knowing what’s coming. Sure enough, as soon as he steps foot in the media pen, he’s surrounded by microphones and cameras.

“Charles! Congratulations on P2!” One reporter calls out. “But everyone’s talking about your helmet today. Can you tell us about the ribbon?”

Charles nods, his expression turning serious. “The ribbon on my helmet today is a symbol of awareness for domestic violence. It’s an issue that affects millions of people around the world, and I wanted to use this platform to bring attention to it.”

Another reporter jumps in. “Was there a specific reason you chose this race to highlight this cause?”

Charles pauses, carefully considering his words. “I believe that as public figures, we have a responsibility to use our voices for good. Domestic violence is a problem that often stays hidden, and I want to help bring it into the light.”

“Will the helmet be part of any specific initiative?” A third reporter asks.

Charles nods, a small smile playing at his lips. “Yes, actually. I’m going to be auctioning off this helmet, with all proceeds going to charities that combat domestic violence and support survivors.”

There’s a murmur of approval from the gathered press. “That’s a wonderful gesture,” one reporter says. “Can you tell us more about why this cause is so important to you?”

Charles takes a deep breath, his eyes briefly scanning the crowd. He spots you standing at the back, partially hidden behind a barrier. Your eyes meet, and he draws strength from your presence.

“It’s important because it’s a problem that affects so many people, yet it’s often overlooked or ignored,” Charles says, his voice steady and clear. “I ... I have seen firsthand the devastating impact it can have on someone’s life. And I want to do whatever I can to help break the cycle of violence and provide support for those who need it.”

There’s a moment of silence as the reporters absorb his words. Then the questions start flying again.

“Have you partnered with any specific organizations for this initiative?”

“Do you plan to continue raising awareness for this cause in future races?”

“How do you balance your focus on racing with your desire to address social issues?”

Charles answers each question thoughtfully, his passion for the cause evident in every word. As the press conference winds down, he can’t help but feel a sense of pride. Not just for his performance on the track, but for using his platform to make a difference.

As he makes his way back to the Ferrari garage, Charles spots you waiting for him. Your eyes are bright with emotion, and he can see the pride and gratitude written all over your face.

“That was amazing,” you say as he approaches. “I can’t believe you did all that.”

Charles shrugs, suddenly feeling a bit shy. “It was the least I could do. I hope it helps, even if it’s just a little bit.”

You shake your head, a soft laugh escaping you. “A little bit? Charles, do you have any idea how much impact something like this can have? You just brought attention to this issue in front of millions of people.”

He nods, the weight of what he’s done starting to sink in. “I just hope it makes a difference. That it helps someone out there feel less alone.”

You reach out, squeezing his hand. “It already has,” you say softly.

Charles feels a warmth spread through his chest at your words. He opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, a voice calls out from behind him.

“Charles! A word?”

Charles turns to see a familiar face — Federica, a respected journalist he’s known for years. She approaches with a warm smile, notepad in hand.

“Federica,” Charles greets her. “How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you,” she replies. “That was quite a statement you made out there today. I was hoping we could talk a bit more about it. Off the record, if you prefer.”

Charles glances at you, silently asking if you’re okay with this. You nod encouragingly.

“Sure,” Charles says. “What would you like to know?”

Federica’s expression turns serious. “I’ve known you for a while now. This isn’t just a random cause you’ve picked up. There’s a personal connection here, isn’t there?”

Charles takes a deep breath, weighing his words carefully. He feels you shift closer to him, offering silent support.

“You’re right,” he says finally. “It is personal. I can’t go into details, but ... I’ve seen up close how devastating domestic violence can be. And I realized that I had an opportunity to do something about it.”

Federica nods, her eyes softening with understanding. “That’s very brave of you, Charles. Both to take this stand and to admit the personal connection. Can I ask what made you decide to do it now?”

Charles glances at you again, a small smile playing at his lips. “Let’s just say I’ve been inspired by someone very brave. Someone who showed me that it’s possible to turn pain into purpose.”

Federica follows his gaze, her eyebrows raising slightly as she notices you for the first time. “I see,” she says, a knowing look in her eye. “Well, I think what you’re doing is wonderful. And I would be happy to help spread the word about the helmet auction, if you’d like.”

Charles nods gratefully. “That would be amazing. Thank you.”

As Federica walks away, Charles turns back to you. “I hope that was okay,” he says softly. “I didn’t want to say too much, but ...”

You shake your head, cutting him off. “It was perfect. Really. I ... I don’t know how to thank you for all of this.”

Charles reaches out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You don’t have to thank me. Seeing you here, seeing how far you’ve come ... that’s all the thanks I need.”

For a moment, you just look at each other, a wealth of unspoken emotions passing between you. Then, impulsively, you step forward and wrap your arms around Charles in a tight hug.

He returns the embrace without hesitation, holding you close. In that moment, surrounded by the noise and chaos of the paddock, Charles feels a sense of peace wash over him.

This, he thinks, is what really matters. Not the podiums or the points, but the ability to make a difference. To help someone heal and find their strength again.

As you pull back from the hug, Charles sees something new in your eyes. A spark of determination, of hope for the future. And he knows, without a doubt, that this is just the beginning of something beautiful.

***

The late afternoon sun streams through the windows of Charles’ Monaco apartment, warming the living room. Charles is sprawled on the couch, idly scrolling through his phone, when he hears a sudden gasp from the kitchen.

“Oh my god,” your voice carries through the apartment, a mix of shock and something else Charles can’t quite place.

He sits up, instantly alert. “Everything okay?” He calls out, already moving towards the kitchen.

You appear in the doorway, your face flushed and your eyes wide. You’re clutching your phone like a lifeline, and there’s an energy radiating from you that Charles has never seen before.

“I ... I got in,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Charles furrows his brow, confused for a moment before realization dawns. “The university? You heard back?”

You nod, a smile breaking across your face like the sun emerging from behind clouds. “I got in, Charles. They accepted me!”

The joy in your voice is infectious, and Charles feels his own face split into a grin. “That’s amazing!” He exclaims, stepping towards you. “I knew you could do it!”

What happens next seems to unfold in slow motion. You close the distance between you in two quick steps, and before Charles can process what’s happening, your lips are on his.

The kiss is brief, a burst of spontaneous happiness, but it sends a jolt through Charles’ entire body. For a split second, he’s frozen, his mind struggling to catch up with the reality of your lips against his.

But as quickly as it began, it’s over. You pull back abruptly, your eyes wide with shock at your own actions. “Oh god,” you stammer, taking a step back. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ... I was just excited and I ...”

Charles can see the panic rising in your eyes, the fear that you’ve crossed a line. He wants to reassure you, to tell you that it’s okay, more than okay, but you’re already backing away, words tumbling out in a rush.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what I was thinking. Please don’t be mad, I-”

“Hey,” Charles cuts in gently, reaching out to catch your hand before you can retreat further. “Stop apologizing.”

You freeze, uncertainty written all over your face. “But I-”

Charles shakes his head, a soft smile playing at his lips. “You have nothing to be sorry for. In fact ...” he takes a deep breath, gathering his courage. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for months.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “You ... you have?”

Charles nods, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of your hand. “I have. But I didn’t want to rush you. I wanted to give you time to heal, to find yourself again.”

You’re quiet for a moment, processing his words. “So you’re not ... upset?”

Charles can’t help but chuckle. “Upset? No, definitely not upset. More like ... thrilled. And maybe a little disappointed in myself for not making the first move.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. “Really?”

“Really,” Charles confirms. He takes a step closer, his free hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. “In fact, if you’re okay with it, I’d really like to kiss you again. Properly this time.”

You nod, a mix of nervousness and anticipation in your eyes. “I’d like that,” you whisper.

Charles leans in slowly, giving you plenty of time to change your mind. But you don’t pull away. Instead, you meet him halfway, your lips connecting in a kiss that’s soft and sweet and full of promise.

This time, Charles is fully present in the moment. He savors the feeling of your lips against his, the warmth of your body as you step closer. His hand slides from your cheek to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair.

When you finally break apart, you’re both a little breathless. Charles rests his forehead against yours, a smile playing at his lips.

“Wow,” you murmur.

“Yeah,” Charles agrees. “Wow indeed.”

For a moment, you just stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms. Then Charles remembers what started all this.

“So,” he says, pulling back slightly to meet your eyes. “You got into law school. We should celebrate!”

You laugh, the sound light and carefree in a way Charles has never heard before. “I almost forgot about that for a second there.”

Charles grins. “Well, we can’t have that. It’s not every day you get accepted to study law at the International University of Monaco. This calls for champagne!”

He starts to move towards the kitchen, but you tug on his hand, pulling him back. “Wait,” you say softly. “Before we celebrate ... can we talk about this?” You gesture between the two of you.

Charles nods, his expression turning serious. “Of course. What do you want to know?”

You bite your lip, suddenly looking uncertain. “I just ... where do we go from here? I mean, I like you, Charles. A lot. But I’m still ... I’m still healing. And I don’t want to complicate things or ruin our friendship if-”

Charles cuts you off gently, taking both of your hands in his. “Hey, look at me,” he says softly. When you meet his gaze, he continues. “I like you too. A lot. And I understand that you’re still healing. I don’t want to rush anything or pressure you in any way.”

You nod, relief evident in your eyes. “So what do we do?”

Charles smiles. “We take it slow. We keep being friends, but we also explore these new feelings. And most importantly, we communicate. If at any point you feel overwhelmed or want to slow things down, you tell me. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agree, a small smile playing at your lips. “And what if ... what if I want to speed things up sometimes?”

Charles feels a warmth spread through his chest at your words. “Then we can do that too. As long as we’re both comfortable and on the same page.”

You nod, looking more relaxed now. “I think I can handle that.”

“Good,” Charles says, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Now, about that champagne ...”

As Charles moves to the kitchen to fetch the bottle, he can’t help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling up inside him. This thing between you is new and fragile, but it’s also full of potential. And he’s determined to nurture it, to give it the time and care it needs to grow into something beautiful.

He returns with two glasses and the champagne, finding you settled on the couch. As he pours, he can’t help but steal glances at you. There’s a glow about you that has nothing to do with the afternoon sun — it’s the light of new beginnings, of hope for the future.

“A toast,” Charles says, handing you a glass. “To new adventures in education and ... other areas.”

You laugh, clinking your glass against his. “To new adventures,” you agree.

As you sip the champagne, a comfortable silence falls between you. Charles finds himself marveling at how far you’ve come in the past few months. From the scared, broken woman he first met to this confident woman embarking on a new chapter of her life.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask, noticing his contemplative expression.

Charles smiles. “Just ... how proud I am of you. You’ve come so far, and now you’re starting this new journey. It’s inspiring.”

You blush slightly at his words. “I couldn’t have done it without you, you know. Your support has meant everything.”

“You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for,” Charles insists. “But I’m glad I could help. And I’ll be here to support you through your studies too. Although,” he adds with a grin, “I’m not sure how much help I’ll be with law textbooks.”

You laugh, leaning into him slightly. “I’m sure you’ll find ways to be helpful. Moral support is important too, you know.”

Charles wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “Well, in that case, I’m your man. Moral support is my specialty.”

As the afternoon fades into evening, you and Charles talk about everything and nothing. You discuss your hopes for university, your fears, your dreams for the future. Charles shares stories from his racing career, anecdotes he’s never told anyone else.

And through it all, there’s a new undercurrent of electricity between you. A spark ignited by that spontaneous kiss, fueled by the promise of something more.

As the sky outside turns a deep indigo, Charles finds himself marveling at the unexpected turns life can take. A few months ago, he was just a driver focused on his next win. Now, he’s sitting here with you, on the cusp of something that feels bigger and more important than any championship.

“What are you smiling about?” You ask, noticing his expression.

Charles pulls you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Just thinking about how sometimes the best things in life are the ones you never see coming.”

You snuggle into his side, a contented sigh escaping you. “I couldn’t agree more.”

***

Five Years Later

The sun shines brightly on the streets of Monaco as Charles stands before a modest but elegant building, his heart swelling with pride. He glances at you, standing beside him in a crisp power suit, your eyes sparkling with excitement and determination. It’s a look he’s come to know well over the past five years, but today it seems to shine even brighter.

“Are you ready for this?” Charles asks, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

You turn to him, a radiant smile spreading across your face. “I’ve been ready for this my whole life,” you reply, your voice steady and sure.

Charles feels a surge of love and admiration wash over him. He remembers the scared, broken woman he met all those years ago, and marvels at the strong, confident woman you’ve become. His wife. His partner in every sense of the word.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” a voice calls out, drawing their attention to the small crowd gathered before them. “We are here today to celebrate the grand opening of the Leclerc Center for Domestic Violence Support and Legal Aid.”

A round of applause breaks out, and Charles feels you squeeze his hand tighter. He knows how much this moment means to you, how hard you’ve worked to make it a reality.

The speaker, a distinguished-looking woman in her fifties, continues. “This center represents a beacon of hope for those who have suffered in silence, a promise that they are not alone, and that help is available. And we have two very special people to thank for making this dream a reality.”

She gestures towards Charles and you. “Charles and Y/N, would you like to say a few words before we cut the ribbon?”

Charles looks at you, silently asking if you want to speak first. You nod, stepping forward with the confidence of someone who has found their true calling.

“Thank you all for being here today,” you begin, your voice clear and strong. “This center is more than just a building. It’s a promise. A promise to every person out there who’s suffering in an abusive relationship that there is hope, there is help, and there is a way out.”

Charles watches you speak, feeling a swell of pride. He remembers the countless late nights you spent poring over law books, the tears of frustration and determination as you fought your way through law school. And now here you are, a fully qualified attorney, using your hard-earned skills to help others who were once in your position.

“I stand here today not just as a lawyer, not just as the co-founder of this center, but as someone who has been where many of our future clients are right now,” you continue, your voice wavering slightly with emotion. “I know the fear, the doubt, the feeling of being trapped. But I also know the incredible strength that lies within each survivor. And it is my deepest hope that this center will help them find that strength, just as I did.”

As you step back, wiping a tear from your eye, Charles pulls you into a quick, supportive hug before stepping forward himself.

“When I met my wife five years ago,” he begins, his voice thick with emotion, “I was just a driver who thought he had it all figured out. But she opened my eyes to a world I knew little about, and showed me that sometimes the most important battles are the ones fought off the track.”

He pauses, looking out at the crowd. He sees familiar faces — fellow drivers who’ve supported this project, team members who’ve become like family, and new faces too — survivors, advocates, people who believe in the mission of this center.

“This center is a dream that we’ve shared for years,” Charles continues. “A dream of creating a safe space where survivors can find legal support, counseling, and most importantly, hope. And while I may not be the one providing legal advice,” he adds with a chuckle, earning a laugh from the crowd, “I promise to support this center and its mission in every way I can.”

He turns to you, his eyes shining with love and admiration. “And to my incredible wife, who has been the driving force behind all of this — thank you. For your strength, your determination, and for showing me what true courage looks like every single day.”

As Charles steps back, the crowd erupts in applause. You reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his as the official hands you a large pair of scissors.

“Are you ready to do the honors?” The official asks.

You and Charles share a look, years of unspoken understanding passing between you in that moment. Together, you step forward, positioning the scissors at the purple ribbon stretched across the entrance.

“On the count of three,” the official announces. “One ... two ... three!”

With a satisfying snip, the ribbon falls away. The crowd cheers, and cameras flash as you and Charles stand before the open doors of the center, your shared dream finally a reality.

As the crowd begins to file inside for the reception, you turn to Charles, your eyes shining with unshed tears. “We did it,” you whisper. “We really did it.”

Charles pulls you into a tight embrace, not caring about the cameras still flashing around them. “You did it,” he murmurs into your hair. “I just followed your lead.”

You pull back, shaking your head with a fond smile. “We’re a team, remember?”

Charles laughs, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “How could I forget?”

As you make your way inside, greeting guests and answering questions, Charles finds himself reflecting on the journey that brought you both to this moment. The ups and downs, the challenges and triumphs, all leading to this day.

A familiar face approaches — Federica, the journalist who had interviewed Charles after that fateful race five years ago. “Charles, Y/N,” she greets you warmly. “Congratulations on this amazing achievement. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?”

You nod, your professional demeanor sliding into place. “Of course. What would you like to know?”

“This center is quite different from the usual celebrity charity projects,” Federica begins. “Can you tell me what inspired you to take such a hands-on approach?”

You and Charles share a look, silently deciding who should answer. Charles gives a small nod, encouraging you to take the lead.

“For us, this isn’t about charity in the traditional sense,” you explain. “It’s about using our resources and platform to create real, tangible change. As a survivor myself, I know firsthand how crucial legal support can be in escaping an abusive situation. But I also know how intimidating and overwhelming the legal system can seem.”

Charles watches as you speak, marveling at your eloquence and passion. He remembers the early days of your relationship, when you would sometimes struggle to find your voice. Now, you command the room with ease.

“Our goal with this center,” you continue, “is to provide comprehensive support — legal aid, counseling, practical assistance — all under one roof. We want to remove as many barriers as possible for those seeking help.”

Federica nods, scribbling in her notepad. “And Charles,” she turns to him, “how do you see your role in all of this?”

Charles straightens, his expression serious. “My role is to support this center and its mission in every way I can. Whether that’s using my platform to raise awareness, helping to secure funding, or simply being here to show that everyone can and should be allies in this fight against domestic violence.”

You reach for his hand, giving it a squeeze. Charles feels a surge of gratitude for your unwavering support, both in this project and in his career.

“And how do you balance this work with racing?” Federica asks.

Charles smiles. “It’s all about priorities. Racing is my passion, but this center, and the work we do here, that’s my purpose. I’m fortunate to have a team and sponsors who understand and support that.”

As Federica thanks the two of you and moves on to speak with other guests, Charles turns to you. “You were amazing,” he says softly. “I’m so proud of you.”

You lean into him slightly, a soft smile playing at your lips. “We were amazing,” you correct him. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

Before Charles can respond, another guest approaches, asking for a tour of the facilities. As you lead the way, explaining the various services the center will offer, Charles hangs back slightly, simply observing.

He watches as you point out the private consultation rooms, the children’s play area designed to make the center welcoming for families, the state-of-the-art security systems put in place to ensure client safety. Your eyes light up as you describe the pro bono legal services, the partnerships with local shelters and support groups, the education and prevention programs you hope to implement.

In this moment, seeing you in your element, Charles is struck anew by how far you’ve both come. From that terrifying night in the paddock to this day of hope and new beginnings, it’s been a journey neither of you could have anticipated.

As the day winds down and the last of the guests depart, Charles finds you standing in the main reception area, looking around with a mix of awe and determination.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asks, wrapping an arm around your waist.

You lean into him, letting out a contented sigh. “I was just thinking about all the lives we’re going to change here. All the people we’re going to help.”

Charles presses a kiss to your temple. “You’ve already changed so many lives, you know. Including mine.”

You turn to face him, your eyes shining with love and gratitude. “We’ve changed each other’s lives. And now we get to pay it forward.”

As Charles looks at you, his partner in every sense of the word, he knows that whatever challenges lie ahead, you’ll face them together. Just as you always have.

“Ready to go home?” He asks softly.

You nod, taking one last look around the center. “Yes,” you say, your voice filled with quiet determination. “But we’ll be back bright and early tomorrow. We’ve got work to do.”

Charles smiles, taking your hand as you walk towards the exit. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[nuemanfilms]

“YOU COULD’VE ASKED.” || SOULLESS. S.W

“—Like a Bitch in heat.”

Summary; Soulless!Sam has been eying you for a while, his advances haven’t gone unnoticed. You finally can’t help it anymore after you believe he’ll be out for the night on a case with Dean.

Content Warnings; Soulless!Sam, heavy degrading, unprotected sex, piv, F!Masturbation, Creampie, Caught masturbating, Sam being a dick, Mentions of tension, teasing, rough sex, hair pulling, slight pain kink, crying during sex, etc. 16+ ONLY.

A/N; I despite Soulless!Sam, but god fucking damn it he��s hot as hell. Slight plot. 900+.

Xoxo, roro <3

The sound of Sam’s heavy boots clunked down the hallway of the bunker as he headed towards your room.

Ever since Sam lost his soul, you had to admit, the man was fucking hot, he was hot before, but fucking hell. You saw how his eyes trained on your form, how he stared at you with lust clear in his irises. When his hand snuck down to grip your thigh when Dean went on about a case in the town you two were headed earlier, your panties were soaked from the mere contact.

This was pathetic, you felt pathetic as you plunged your fingers in and out of your cunt. Moans and whimpers spilling from your plush lips along with gasps of his name.

The loud footsteps didn’t even register in your brain. Your hips rocked against your fingers, fuck, you could imagine how well his would feel instead of yours.

Sam’s eyebrows shot up when he heard the gasp of his name, a smirk creeping onto his lips as he realized who it was. Dean was out at a bar with some pretty blonde after another argument between the older Winchester and the younger.

The old Sam would walk away, pretending nothing happened. This Sam? He was pushing the door open, leaning against the doorframe as he watched your fingers move in and out of your pussy. He already felt himself harden beneath the denim of his jeans. He watched as you grinded your hips against your hand. Trying to reach that sweet spongy spot that he knew you clearly weren’t successful in.

“You could’ve asked.” You could hear the smirk in his tone, your cheeks immediately heating up. You began to speak before he cut you off again, “Told Dean I was gonna check on you… and here you are, humping your fucking hand like a bitch in heat.” He tilted his head, watching as you looked at him with wide eyes. Something told him you enjoyed how he spoke to you. So he kept going, making his way over to your bed. He was undoing his belt in the process.

“Sam, I-“ You stuttered before he cut you off again, “Shut up, ass up.” You swallowed at that, removing your fingers from your leaking hole and getting into the position he requested. His hand moved to assist you after he tossed his belt, pushing you further into the pillow.

You hadn’t even processed the fact he was lining up with your slick entrance already before he made another degrading comment.

“Wet like a goddamn faucet. It’s for me, isn’t it?” He muttered, his hand skimming over your back before his fingers moved to tangle in your hair. You nodded, the feeling of his tip prodding at your entrance distracting you from a verbal response.

“Answer. Me.” He tugged at your hair once, forcing a strangled moan out of you. He groaned at that, seeing how the pain had a very positive reaction on you judging by the way your slick coated his head.

“God- fuck, yes… it’s been for you.” You choked out, and he finally pushed inside. Filling you in one single snap of his hips, forcing a gasp from your throat.

You were squeezing him so goddamn tight already.

“Fuck, all that and you’re still tight…” He grunted, his fingers resting in your locks before he gave another firm tug. His smirk widened when he heard that small whimper come from you.

After a few moments, he created a pace. Your lewd sounds and the vulgar noise of his cock slamming in and out of your dripping cunt filled your room. Sam’s noises weren’t loud like yours, but you could hear them.

“S-Sam- oh my fucking god…” You moaned out, he let out a deep chuckle at that. He noticed how your hips attempted to move against his. He saw how your pussy swallowed him each time he moved. His free hand moved down, his index and middle finger rubbing at your clit to try and loosen you up around him.

His pace was rough, god, he was fucking ruthless. Yet you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it.

“Fuck, you really did need this, huh? Taking me so fucking deep… stretching so perfect around me, huh, Sweetheart?” You mewled at that, tears beginning to stain your pillow at his relentless pace. You couldn’t stop saying his name, it was the only thing you seemed to remember at this point. Besides the fact that you could feel the knot building up inside of you, ready to snap at any moment while his cock hit your sweet spot over and over again. It was like he had already memorized it.

He knew you were close, he was too. He could tell by how your moans grew more high-pitched, how your pussy was squeezing him like a goddamn vice. He didn’t hesitate in teasing you for it, “Shit… You’re already gonna come for me? It's not even been that long, Baby… Can’t get enough of this, can you?” You sobbed out another cry of his name in response, his fingers tightened their grip further in your strands. Forcing your head up so you could open your eyes despite your blurry vision.

“Come. Now.” He said, your hips stuttered, your legs were practically shaking. He fucked you through your orgasm, despite his own stuttering hips.

“Filling this pussy up, Honey… and you’re gonna keep it in there.” His tone held a warning, and within seconds he was coming undone inside of you. His release coating your sore walls.

Your breaths were heavy, he pulled out slowly. His hand slid from your hair, letting your head fall against the pillow.

“See? It’s not that hard to ask.”

[0w0tsuki]

You know the way your talking to her I don't think she's your "bestie"

Like if your going to read "hey times are tough. They were tough before. You can do this. Don't let them control and defeat you" as "walk into your nearest precinct and tell them "I am illegally taking controlled substances. Please arrest me" then turn around and yell bile about how she's a dumb bitch who should just shut up forever, then actually take up the position of aggressive stranger instead of pretending you're some beloved mutual just making an appeal.

Seeing a lot of trans faux-progressives talking about breaking the law (in relation to diy hrt) like it will instantly end your life and you will never get away with it, and its very irritating to me because if you have read some queer history you know people have lived long, fulfilling lives outside the bounds of the law in our community since we started banding together. It was at one point just outright illegal to even be gay or trans in public and yet we held rallies and shows and events and we still went to the bars and we demanded our dignity. Do not let the law strip you of what you consider important, especially if it's transition

[archangeldyke-all]

I JUST WATCHED ACT ONE AND HOLY SHIT

Do you think sevika likes biting? Like when other people do it? Because when I saw caitlyn doing it to her I could’ve sworn there was a smirk on sevikas face.

Anyway could you do like headcanons on this? If that’s okay. I love you❤️

oh i KNOW she likes biting AHAHHAAHAH

men and minors dni

really, nobody's been able to make you cum like sevika can. not even your trusty vibrator.

so, it's not surprising to you that you're always scratching up her back and leaving bite marks on her shoulders, but it is concerning.

you confront her about it early on in your relationship. both of you are naked and catching your breath in bed, sevika lazily smoking a cigarette and rubbing your back as you lay on top of her, your finger tracing the indent of your teeth on her breast.

"sevika... am i too rough with you?" you ask.

sevika chokes on her smokes, then sputters a laugh. "what're you talking about?!" she cackles.

"i'm always tearing your back up with my nails-- you've got, like scars on your shoulders now babe. and i worry that i'll draw blood one day, with my teeth or nails--"

"--okay, shut up." sevika cuts you off. you huff a bit and pinch her nipple, and sevika shivers and giggles. "baby. if you recall, i'm not exactly gentle with you, either. just fucked you like a bitch in heat, love, 'n 'm gonna have to lotion your ass from how much i was smacking it."

you suddenly feel bashful, sevika's casual discussion of the mindblowing sex you just had giving you butterflies. you bite her again, much more gently, now, right on the collarbone. "shush." you demand.

"what, you're shy now?" sevika teases. she takes a long drag off her cigarette before stubbing it out out and wrapping you up in her arms. "babe. i like it when you bite me. feels good to know i'm making you feel that good but... i also just like it. the feeling, and the bruises, 'n the way i get to show everyone you're fuckin' me... in fact, i'd like it if you did it even harder. 'n more. could probably cum in my pants from your teeth on my throat..." sevika admits, her voice trailing off and her eyes darting away from yours.

you chuckle and kiss her cheek. "who's shy now?"

sevika just smacks your ass.

so... you start biting her harder. in your time with sevika you've learned how to treat all kinds of wounds, so you aren't as hesitant as you might be to make her bleed. plus, sevika really fucking does love it.

she gets this excited little smirk going on her face when you start gnawing at her flesh, and when you finally really sink your teeth in (usually on her thighs, just a few inches away from her dripping cunt) she just melts. she whimpers and collapses against the bed and sometimes, if you're lucky, you can see her clit twitch in pleasure, despite the fact that you haven't touched her yet.

the first time she cums from it, it's an accident on your part.

you're at the last drop with her, drunk and grinding and making out sloppily in your little corner of the bar, and some woman across the room keeps eyeing her.

eventually, you pull away from her with a huff, smacking her shoulder a bit.

"w-what?" sevika asks, a little out of breath. you have to bite your lip to concentrate enough to get your words out, to resist the temptation of just kissing her again.

"d'you know her?" you ask, gesturing to the woman.

sevika quickly looks over her shoulder, a frown on her face. "w-who?"

"the bitch that's eyeing you like she's gonna be the one going home with you tonight." you growl.

a smile ticks up at the side of sevika's lips, and you scowl. "jealous, baby?"

"no. jealousy would be if you weren't mine. but you are. i'm possessive."

sevika's smile only grows, and she turns her back on her admirer to wrap her arms back around your waist. "i dunno her, love. even if i did, she'd be the last fuckin' thing on my mind tonight. first thing is your ass. second is your tongue. third and forth right here." sevika says as she squeezes your tits. you can't keep your giggles in.

"what about my teeth?" you tease.

sevika shudders, and before you know it, you're being pinned to a wall.

you groan in her mouth, wrapping one of your legs around her hips as she grinds against you. she shoves a hand under your shirt, groping your stomach and tits as you kiss.

you grab her lower lip between your teeth, and sevika freezes, hot little puffs of air hitting your face as she waits in anticipation for your next move.

you give her lip a soft nip before letting it go and ducking down to lick at her throat.

"ba-baby. please." sevika whines, her hips bucking against you in uncoordinated, sloppy little thrusts.

fuck. fuck. you don't have any real reason to worry, not when sevika's begging for your teeth in her throat. it's so hot it makes you dizzy, and you lose yourself for just a second as you clamp your teeth down into her flesh, hard.

sevika stiffens, squeaks, and then starts to shiver, her body collapsing against you and pinning you to the wall. you wrap your arms around her waist, groaning into her skin as she shivers against you.

"f-fuck!" sevika shouts. you pull away from her throat, blood and spit connecting your lips to her skin as you nuzzle her cheek. "fuck. fuck, i love you." sevika sighs.

you giggle, kissing her scars. "i love you, too, baby. can't believe you just came in your fuckin' pants for me."

sevika chuckles. "'s hot watching you get jealous, or possessive, or whatever." she says with a shrug. "'n i really fuckin' like your teeth."

you gently nip her cheek, then press your bloody lips to hers.

sevika moans at the taste.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

[nekropsii]

Wild how when I call Shipping Culture oppressively pervasive and awful for any Aro/Ace with the gall to enjoy anything on the Internet, I get called a Fun-Hating Killjoy and told to just shut the fuck up or off myself, no matter how mild or polite my comment is. Wild how when I say a character either is textually Aro/Ace or is easier to read as Aro/Ace than Alloromantic/sexual, people start talking down to me like I'm a child who doesn't know anything, saying "Friendly reminder that Aro(s)/Aces can Date/Have Sex too, just like us Normal People!". As if I don't know anything about my own identity. Wild how when I do either of these things or even just say I'm not into a pairing or uninvested in shipping in general people call me fucking homophobic, even if the (at least popularly perceived - let's be honest, people are wrong half the time) genders of the characters is never once made relevant. Even though their reasoning for me being homophobic is lack of investment in a gay pairing they like, and nothing more. Wild how people throw little baby tantrums at even the gentlest criticism of Shipping Culture, or someone choosing not to engage heavily in it. Wild how they have the audacity to ask, with hostility, what the fuck Aro(s)/Aces are talking about when they say Shipping Culture is hostile to Aro/Ace fans, or ask what's wrong with them when they say that they aren't into Shipping.

It's almost like Bigots don't realize they're being Bigots when they do Bigotry, so just saying you're not a Bigot isn't enough. It's almost like Aro/Ace people know what the hell they're talking about. It's almost like we have a fucking point. It's almost like we're valid in expressing contempt and frustration with the constant expectation to engage with Romance and Sexuality at every waking moment, even if we're Romance and/or Sex Favorable. It's almost like we're tired of getting our identities erased, and we're tired of expecting to "act normal", and we're tired of just taking it when Allos use the Favorable members of our communities as a scapegoat for why they should be allowed to totally erase any of our representation just for their "Harmless Queer Fun" - deliberately, and I mean DELIBERATELY, failing to recognize or acknowledge the character's orientation, and how an A-Spec's personal relationship with and expressions of Love are going to look drastically different from an Allo person's - and call us the Bigots when we even glance in the direction of objection.

It's almost like Allo/Amatonormativity are oppressive forces.

Alloromantics/sexuals are constantly looking for any reason they can to call Aro(s)/Aces unloving, unfeeling, frigid, soulless, cruel. Inhuman. They're looking for any reason they can to call us whiny children, stupid, people who "just haven't found the right one", addressing us only as "Works in Progress", or someone who can have their sexuality corrected with the right stimulus - Conversion Therapy and Corrective Rape are okay when it happens to us, after all. Any reason at all to call us heartless monsters. AlloAces are confused children. They can be fixed. AroAllos are manipulative, unfeeling sexual predators. They can't be fixed - just kill them. AroAces are frigid, mean bitches. They can be fixed. God forbid you're Aplatonic. God forbid you're part of the Repulsed spectrum. God forbid you're one of the Loveless. God forbid you hold any pride in your identity, God forbid you don't keep your mouth shut, God forbid you critique the overinflated importance Allos place onto Love as a concept. God forbid you critique something as asinine and juvenile as fucking Shipping Culture. Do any one of these and you've put a bright red, blazing neon target on your back.

Wild how the only real humans amongst us are the Romance, Sex, and Friendship Favorable who put their head down and mask as Allo, and side with the Allos when their fellow A-Specs get too loud for the comfort of their Allo friend's delicate little fee-fees. After all, Vitriol and Harassment are warranted when an Allo's feelings get slightly hurt that an Aro person says, on their own account, to no one in particular, that they're sick of every tag being 80% Shipping Content. Which is a vehemently evil personal attack, clearly.

Wild.

[mrsimqle]

I’ll always be there to point and laugh when people act like it’s impossible to depict black and poc in their art especially the damn sims

[webism]

It really irritates me that you can write low effort stables like the pornstar ones and hit 10k when I write full fics and barely break 500 most of the time. Do I just give up because people like you won’t ever give us the spotlight for a damn minute? It’s incomprehensible how *you’re* so popular and the longest thing I’ve seen you write is maybe a thousand words.

whats apparently incomprehensible to you is how that’s not my fucking problem lmao

do you think i pick and choose what every person on this site interacts with? it’s not my fault nor is it my issue if you aren’t getting the engagement you want. i’m sorry you’re struggling with it but also i don’t care 🤷🏻‍♀️

‘give you the spotlight’ bitch shut up don’t attack me for your shortcomings. writing is HARD and draining and you need to be putting love into your community rather than bitching at me. i couldn’t imagine dogging on a stranger because i’m not getting the attention i want.

also i’m writing two novel series and an interactive novel. i have an editor i pay—i’m going to be a published author. i don’t NEED to write 10k word fics but i have 12k written in nanamis masked route alone and that’s unfinished.

have some fucking fun with the porn you write and get off my blog 💤💤

[the-overthinktank]

This might not be what you were going for, but that last reblog (less so your post after) really felt like a bunch of biology majors and professional artists laughing at small casual artists for not being professional artists who can capture every animal's essence in the way they want.

It was less bitching vibes and more like bully vibes. Like, you had fun laughing at that humorous jest, sure, but it felt more like at the expense of someone else than at the expanse of entropy and life, if you get what i'm saying.

Anyways sorry if i'm overthinking this and being easily offended, i'm just throwing my opinion at your front porch and running away.

I have seen furry artists of many different skill levels do the doggification thing. "Canines are boring" is not a widely held aesthetic opinion among biologists. Canine biologists are a thing and they love their six thousand different coyote and wolf subspecies that look identical to me. Good for them, keep at it.

If you're feeling attacked by my subjective art and character design opinions that's not my problem. This is hardly my most pretentious and unpopular take. Need I again mention my strong dislike of 95% of dragon designs. They're always trying to be cool more than they're trying to be animals, I hate it. Yes that includes like every flight rising dragon. Keep tying me to the stake, I'll never shut up.

[iichfilwypj]

all equestria girl | percy jackson

ღ percy jackson x daughter of ares! reader ღ warnings: none! ღ wc: 558

“I’m not gonna let you fall, ok?” Percy tried to free his hand from his girlfriend's tight grip, but she didn’t seem willing to let go. She looked down at him, eyes wide with terror and fear.

She looked beautiful, though he wouldn’t tell her that (he felt he’d probably get a punch if he did in this situation.)

“Do you trust me?” he giggled while he rubbed her leg, watching as she nodded her head from side to side. 

“No!” 

Just a few weeks back, they’d gone on a small mission that required them to fly on the winged stallion… She’d ended up with a concussion and a broken rib. That says enough.

He’d begged her to learn to ride Blackjack. Or, at the very least, any regular horse. Percy felt it was up to him to make sure that next time, she’d be prepared to manage it –you know, horses are his thing.

She’d waved it off, saying she only panicked and would be totally fine next time. But he insisted. 

Ha, ha. Funny. 

Once she got on, she was convinced that falling from that height would be the end of her. Also, something told her the horse was jealous of her. He wasn’t looking in her direction and she could swear he was struggling not to push her to the ground.

And then Percy told her he’d let go and tell the horse to take off flying. 

What? Who does he think she is, Zorro? 

“Percy, if you let me go I-”

The horse snorted and shuffled a bit. Percy looked downright offended, gave Blackjack a pat on the back, and said: “Hey, is my girlfriend you’re talking about!”

“What did he just say?” Yes, the horse hated her. It’d probably take off and dive headfirst or pull some stunt to get rid of her.

“That you’re stunning." He left a small kiss on her leg and patted it, slowly backing away.

The horse gave another sharp snort. Percy rolled his eyes and patiently continued teaching the girl the basics.

Not long after, he felt confident she’d be okay and gave Blackjack the green light to start flying. The horse rose into the sky, and Percy smiled. 

But that smile faded when he heard his girlfriend’s screams and saw the horse disappearing among the clouds.

How lovely, they both seemed to get along... just fine.

“How– Oh wow”

Percy watched as the girl nearly crashed to the ground when the horse landed, stumbling backwards as quickly as she could. Her hair was a disaster, completely covering her eyes and puffed up to an absurd degree.

The horse didn’t look any happier, stepping away from her and shaking itself, as if she were some kind of contagion.

Everyone stayed quiet, not sure what to do or say.

Percy walked slowly toward his girlfriend, lowering his head to meet her eyes. She raised her head sharply, pointing at the horse with an accusing finger, which looked at her in surprise.

"Mrs. O'Leary is way cooler than that bitch!" 

"I like Rachel better than her." She only heard a sound, but seeing Percy’s expression, she instantly knew it wasn’t a compliment.

She attempted to move toward the horse, but her boyfriend pulled her back by the waist.

"What did he say? What did that awful, nasty furry monster say?" Blackjack spun around, kicked up some dirt, and began to walk away from them, leaving them covered in dust.

Percy was beyond surprised, struggling to believe that for once, he wasn’t the one acting foolish in the relationship.

"Okay, maybe next time we'll try with Porkpie," he shouted, making sure the horse heard him while giving his girlfriend's arm a pinch. "I suppose he'll be more civilized than you two!”

“Shut up!”

“Shut up!”

hi hello hola buenos días! how are u all? WEEKEND IS HERE!!!!!!!!! this is very very random. me with who??

[circe-butbetter]

maoe rj8sthe utnro pist

seems to be a popular demand so alright☝️

Welcome to my blog cunts and bitches /lh

My name is Jana, or circe call me either idm

She/they/he like literally any pronouns I could not care nor do I mind

poly, bisexual,

BIGGEST GREEN APPLE HATER ON THIS BLOCK🗣🗣💯

📷 || 📍 || 🎵 || 🎧 || click for palestine ||

More about me!

Interests: marauders, five nights at freddies, Greek mythology, deranged old stories, gory books or gory shows, cannibalism as a concept/metaphor, murder massacres, true crime, fun facts, outer banks, the hunger games, human rights, politics, music, I'll add when I think of more

Dislikes: uhh lowk idk you guys tell me idk myself

Hates: GREEN FUCKING APPLES. GREEN APPLES

my people <3

@garden-of-runar my platonic partner, my sun, my poet, the melody to my kuromi, the bunny to my fox, the remus/james to my sirius, the loml (/p) ITS RUNAR GUYS RAHHH chaotic but wonderful nonetheless 💞💞💞 meeting them was a pleasure and honor🗣 andandandnad guys you need to check runar out she's a wonderful person to know

@starkissed-mars UGH MARS I LOBE MARS AND I LORV TALKING TO MARS mars is lowkey kinda the evan to my barty, freakiest person I've met, one of my favorite people on here HI MARSSS HI MAZZY☝️☝️, hashtag freakymars who? Hehehehehehrh has some issues but he's so wonderful its insane EVERYONE SAY WE LOEBF TOU MARS❗️

@definitionoffuckup AL❗️❗️ AL ALLEY HI AL al is wonderful and amazing and lowkey kinda scary sometimes with absolute no sense of Internet safety but they're wonderful anyways, also one of my favorites on here I lobe al sosososo much guys you should go check them out

@eef-stars ETHANN our local furry, music taste that lowkey gives me whiplash, I'm sosososososo glad I met him and he really is fucking amazing, lowk older brother core, MAJOR LOVERBOY SYNDROME it's insanely adorable

@kawaiibarty FUCKING MASTER AT WRITING GUYS GO CHECK OUT HIS FICS THEYRE AMAZING, so deranged I'm lowk scared of him/j, JAMES IS SO POOKIE LOWK GUYS also also one of my favorites on here I'm very glad I met him he really is fantastic and that is a FACT, also major loverboy syndrome those two are so gay

@fkufather TWIN WHERE HABE YOU BEEN, guys thats js barty, no joke it's just barty, barty crouch jr who? Lowk twin, his existence strangles me from the inside out/j, your still on my blog ☹️💞

@seekmemystar UGH SO WISE, hashtag itar for president GUYSSSS ITAR IS WONDERFUL ANDANDAND she's a wonderful friend and wonderful person and has a highk amazing humour and she's someone you should 100% check out, B&B GUYS☝️☝️

@hershey-not-the-chocolate-maybe HERSHEYEYEYDHDUDB I LOBE HERSHEY THEYRE WODNERFUL AND THEY MATCH MY MORBIDNESS AND LOWK IF THEY WENT INSANE I WOULDNT BE SUPRISED? anyways guys hershey is amazing

@cheekyboybeth THE CHAPPEL TO MY OLIVIA, guys this is ugh I have no words to describe them I lobe juno sososososksosoksososos much and and I'm sosososososososos glad ive met them and and and they're literally an evan rosier variant idc but juno is lit wonderful and is a great friend and waited wonderful fics

@here-am-i-sitting-in-a-tin-can HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHR GUYS YOU DONT UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH I LOBE TALKING TI THEM, LIKE THE WAY MY FACE LIGHTS UP IN GENUINE JOU WHEENEVER I SEE THEM AROUND, bomb music taste literally amazing, they're amazing in general, everything about them is amazing, literally the embodiment of cool ™

@gasolinehornet NOAH OMG NOAH I CAN LITERALLY NEVER SHUT UP ABT NOAH, most out of pocket person I've met but I love talking with him either way, he's such a sweetheart at heart and he's a wonderful person to know, also has a bomb music taste.

@insertmatsbloghere UH MAT☝️☝️ GUYS a literal embodiment of sunset, literal embodiment of summer too☝️☝️ I have not known mat for a long long time but am very glad ive met him, he's a very nice person lowk and so fun to talk to and very funny guys lowklowk

@thatoneslytherinnerd bartys brain BUT ALSO SOSOSOSOS MUCH MORE THAN THAT, a wonderful person that I have not known for long but am honored to know nonetheless

@sotiredimbored KUKOOO literally the sweetest person ever ever ever kuko is amazing and kuko deserves the world handed to them on a pretty platter with a bow because you are simply that fantastic. The smell after rain tinged with the color purple and light yellow laced through it sitting in a forest filled with butterflies core.

TELL ME IF YOU WANNA BE ADDED OR REMOVED PLEASE❗️❗️❗️

@the-stars-drowning RORRYYY RAHHHHHHHH LIT SUCH A CUTIE PIE AND SUCH A WONDERFUL PERSON AND A FELIGHT TO BE AROUND AND TALK TO AND DO WHATEVER WITH AND ANYTHING WITH ALSO VERY COOL

@crowofthestars KAIII HELLO tortures me with green apples lowk but is such a fucking vibe. LIKE I WILL NEVER GET OVER IT THIS DUDE IS SUCH A VIBE INTERACTING IEHT KAI IS SUCH A REGRESH EVEN UF WE'RE FUGHTING OVER GREEN APPLES KAI IS AMAZING🗣🗣 we don't interact as much as I'd like and I'd love to interact with kai more lowk BUT THEYRE WONDERFUL NONTHELESS AND HAVE A BOMB TASTE IN BOOKS

Moodboards (will link here)

[mind-intheclouds342]

I found her first - Jimmys pov

This chapter contains mature and dark content.

This is the little bonus (from Do it for them) chapter about why Jimmy is so mad about the cute couple we love.

Jimmy: "Do I really have to use that crap?"

He complained while running his hand over his member to make it hard, so he could put on the condom.

"I already told you, sweetheart, no party without a hat~ don't feel left out, I do this with everyone who comes through here~"

The only thing separating them was that wall, and the only thing connecting them was that hole through which the man slid his member, immediately letting out a moan upon feeling lips on it.

That was one of his favorite places, his favorite mouth, he spent his money there every time those lovely lips were on the other side.

He immersed himself in the pleasure and compliments he could hear from the other side, he adored every second of it.

"Oh~! Did you finish, darling? You've lasted longer than last time~ what a good boy!"

Jimmy: "Shut up... get ready for your payment"

He heard the giggle from the other side and slid the bill through the slot, seeing the edge of a bra and placing it right there.

Jimmy: "You say that you charge others first before providing your service... Why do you let me do it later?"

"Because you are my favorite customer~ and I trust you!"

Those words melted him, he always asked the same thing, to receive the same answer, it made his ego grow bigger.

He already noticed that her favorite mouth was in different places, not just doing these jobs.

When he knew he could find her in the alleys looking for something good to smoke and to forget about the world, he knew how to find her.

"20 dollars? Let's go... That's excessive for this amount..."

She complained but was desperate to get the only thing that relaxed her.

Jimmy: "Can you do something for me to get it for just 10?"

That's how he managed to see her face and her lips back on his member, but there he didn't receive any kind of praise, just a quick suck, but it was worth it to see her face, how her eyes rolled back when he pushed her head, making her choke on him, he loved being able to do that.

But it drove him crazy that she wouldn't even look at him, always avoiding any kind of eye contact.

To then end up smoking together by the shores of the lake at that place.

Jimmy: "You could get it for free if you would just let me..."

"No"

She said curtly, looking at the lake and scratching his leg repeatedly, which she couldn't stop moving.

Jimmy: "I'm just saying... I could give you a place to sleep, you know."

"Go to hell"

Jimmy: "You too"

He loved her company.

It was still very much present the day he had been cornered by a group of teenagers who tried to steal the merchandise he had to sell in that area.

They were armed with sticks and a knife, being five against just one, the man was at a disadvantage.

Until she arrived, without any remorse, she hit one on the head with a glass bottle, breaking it.

She grabbed him by the neck and pointed the broken bottle at his face.

"Leave him alone, or I'll kill your friend right here."

No matter how bad they wanted to appear, they couldn't leave their friend behind, so they dropped their weapons and left.

"That should at least give me a week of something good without any payment, right?"

She commented, taking her hand to help her up.

Jimmy: "Bitch, you only helped me for that"

"Of course, you bastard, do you think I care about you?"

But the smile with which she said it, said the exact opposite for him.

For him, she was his companion, a woman he could turn to at any moment, as long as he gave her something in return.

That's why when he saw her by his side... Immediately, his whole world crumbled.

Curly: "Jimmy! Let me introduce you to (Y/n)"

It was the first time he heard her name.

He watched her as she hid behind her friend, avoiding his gaze, fully aware of the things she had done with him, as if she wanted to pretend they had never happened.

Why are you with him?

Why do you hold onto him like that?

Are you really going to leave me?

They were questions that always crossed his mind, furious at having to witness how something that was his, something he had achieved on his own, was snatched away by someone else.

From that moment on, he never stopped insulting her, only saying unpleasant things about her to his friend, hoping that one day he would leave her and she would be his again.

But that never happened.

Jimmy: "Goddammit Curly, why don't you answer?"

He complained by leaving messages for his friend, with whom he was supposed to meet that day. He was going to his house and knocked on the door loudly to get his attention.

After several minutes, the man opened the door, embarrassed, wearing only his pants.

Curly: "Jimmy! We were supposed to meet today, weren't we? I'm sorry, I fell asleep! I'll get ready right away and let's go!"

He immediately knew it was a lie when he saw her hiding behind a wall, spying, with a blanket covering her body.

I also want to see it.

I also want to have it.

Why did you give it to him when I've kindly asked you so many times?

Jimmy: "Get ready quickly! You're wasting my time..."

His friend laughed and nodded, apologizing again for the problem.

Even their hopes of reclaiming what was theirs did not fade.

Even after they have gotten married.

He was going to get what he wanted, even if he had to snatch it from his friend's hands.

After all, he found her first.

[gallusrostromegalus]

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez isn't quite sure where Tousen is keepin' his fangs but he's damn sure the shinigami has them and will fucking BITE if provoked.

He can SMELL it.

"...Like, you can sense it in his reiatsu?" Yylfordt Granz asked, cocking his head at the leader of The Beasts. The sixth Espada and his fraccion were 'having a loyalty-training excercise' of eating far more than they were rationed, taking various psychoactive substances Yylfordt liberated from his brother's laboatory and "Chilling" instead of doing any kind of real work. Their leader wasn't 'chilling though, and it was kind of harshing the vibe. Grimmjow was standing at the edge of their hidden balcony created by the odd intersection of the dome with the remains of the city beneath, glaring down at the Shinigami where he was directing the Numeros in Aizen's latest cockanamie construction project.

"No, I SMELL it! With my nose!" Grimmjow snarled, rolling his eyes.

The Beasts all looked at each other, then turned to Grimmjow.

"HUH?" they chorused, and Grimmjow groaned with agitation.

"He. Smells. Like. Another. Apex. Predator." Grimmjow spoke slowly to them, as though that sentence remotely made any kind of sense. "Trust me, I'd know."

The Beasts cocked their heads at various angles to see if he made more sense sideways.

"Okay, look, it's like this-" Grimmjow huffed, turning and dropping into a low squat to get down to their level. "Y'all remember... fuckin what'sherass-"

"Oh yeah Boss, I remember her real well." D-Roy grinned and Grimmjow hucked a tin of snacks at him.

"Nel Someone? TwoOldSchwangs or something like that? Blue hair, huge Bazongas?" Grimmjow elaborated.

"Neliel Tu OdelSchwank, yes." Shawlong nodded. "Scary bitch."

"That's her! You remember what she smelled like, right?" Grimmjow waved excitedly.

"...No, because I'm not a stupid creep that goes around sniffing up women who could kick my head off?" Edrard glared.

"She was distinctly Caprine, you could smell her resurrection halfway across the city." Shawlong nodded.

"Oh yeah, Goat Girl!" Nakeem perked up. "Yeah okay you'd get a whiff of her and know she was in an ass-kicking mood and had twice as many legs to kick with."

"Right- Now think about how me an' Starrk or Hallibel smell." Grimmjow explained. "We'll fuck up your shit too, but it's by tearing your throat our with our teeth, not hooves or horns, yeah?"

The Beasts pondered this though varying degrees and types of inebriation.

"...Oh. Oh Shit. I think yer right Boss!" D-Roy said, eyes widening with alarm.

"Did you smoke the same shit as the rest of us or are you two on something special?" Nakeem groaned.

"Dude shut up- no, no he's right!" D-Roy waved. "S'like... Kinda smells like yeast and armpit, yeah? Us preds got it, but the others don't, no matter how scary they are!

"YEAH!" Grimmjow pointed at him, teeth bared with excitement. "THAT'S THE BITCH!"

"Ohhh wait you're right!" Edrad nodded slowly. "Huh. I smelled it around the Shinigami, but I thought that was Aizen, not blind bones down there."

"Nah, Aizen smells mostly like his fancy skin lotion, it's Tousen." Grimmjow dismissed the thought with a wave of his can of beer. "- I mean Gin's got it too, but we all know he's a snake and where he keeps his teeth." he explained, patting his hip and sword with his free hand as he took a swig.

"Tousen though- I can't put my finger on what it is, but he sure damn smells like some kinda carnivore." Grimmjow grumbled, hand on his chin and squinting as he pondered the scent. "Makes no sense though- even if I can smell the teeth, I can't figure out where they are. 'S not his sword, that's a whole 'nother mess. It just... hangs around him. Growling."

"What kind of mammal?" Coyote Starrk piped up from the door, between handfuls of jerky.

"HEY! Who invited you?" Grommjow snarled.

"I heard you say my name a minute ago, thought I'd come check." the Primera Espada shrugged. "So is he like a weasel or hyena or what?" he asked through another mouthful of jerky.

"THAT'S THE WHOLE PROBLEM, I DON'T FUCKIN' KNOW!! AND STOP SNITCHIN' THE JERKY!" Grimmjow roared, getting up and swiping the bag from Coyote, who let him have it.

"...Actually," Grimmjow frowned, sniffing the air as he caught the scent of something and followed it back to Coyote. "...he kinda smells like you?"

"Me?" Coyote cocked his head at Grimmjow, frowning.

"Yeah, like you but... bigger." Grimmjow glared.

"But Starrk's Six Four easy, and Tousen is like... what, five three?" Nakeem groaned.

"I'm just reporting the vibes." Grimmjow shrugged. "So. What's like a Coyote but Bigger?" he asked the Primera Espada, who had somehow reacquired the bag of Jerky.

Coyote stopped chewing, frowning at the question. "Hm. Bad." he eventually decided, handing the empty bag back to Grimmjow.

"Whaddya mean 'Bad'?" Grimmjow growled, back arching

"Protip kittycat-" Coyote grinned down at him, "-your orders and the world in general will make a whole lot more sense if you actually read all the briefings that get handed out at meetings."

"WHADDER YA TALKIN' ABOUT? YOU WANNA GO, PUPPY?" Grimmjow shouted, swinging his fist, but all it met was the empty air where Coyote had been a fraction of a second before.

"You can lead a cat to water but you can't make it think! Read the damn briefings!" Coyote called from three buildings away before vanishing in a burst of Sondido again.

There was a moment of frustrated silence between the beasts. There was no catching up to Starrk's Sondido, and worse-

"...Do any of us actually know how to read?" Yylfordt wondered.

"I just look at the pictures." Edrad admitted. "Speaking of Preds, did you know one of the shinigami captains is a Big Dog?"

"What? Like his Resurrection or Bankai or whatever is a dog?" D-Roy pondered.

"No I think it's his regular body, but he's not a hollow. It's really fuckin' wierd." Edrad shugged. "I wonder what his whole deal is?"

"Who fuckin' cares?" Grimmjow rolled his eyes and returned to the group, flopping down on the floor. "-What's Starrk's deal? I know he's another pred but fuck me if I know what a 'Coyote' is."

"Huh. I dunno either." Nakeem pondered, opening a bag of corn chips.

"It is a Mystery." Shawlong agreed, nodding sagaciously. "Pass me the doritos."

AEIWAM Question: What do the various Espada Think of Tousen? Follow-up question, will they, the bunch of dumbasses that they are (because Aizen made them for loyalty, not thinking), declare him their unquestioned leader once Aizen, Gin and Urloquia fork off to see the cosmic taffy pull (also presuming that Barrigan winds up face down in a ditch per canon)?

Bless you for asking this, I needed something to chew on. I'm going to answer these one at a time because the post would be insanely long, and how the thought of him Before the Battle of Karakura Probably:

---

Aaroniero and Arruruerie are SURE they've met before, and that they owes the man a debt of gratitude.

It's possible, they suppose. They have consumed and absorbed the memories of so many hollows that maybe they remember the face from a hollow he killed.

At least, that's what they hope is going on.

But they have Nightmares. Not of being pursued by Shinigami but of being the Shinigami in hot pursuit. Dreams of walking through a city, surrounded by humans that adore them. Names and Faces- Rukia and her dipshit older brother, Jushiro with the nice couch they sometimes pass out on after long nights- if Jushiro's husband wasn't already there. ...Memories, of meeting each other, and falling in love. How it felt as natural to look up to her as it was to gaze at the moon. How waking up to him felt as natural as the dawn. Memories of being married by Captain Ukitake, after Tousen had done them the inexplicable favor of organizing the whole party and acquiring wedding rings. He loves organizing things for people. Ukitake had smiled. Especially weddings. I just hope it's not guilt from the one he didn't get to. His husband had frowned.

That's impossible, of course. They know who they are, how they arose from the vile muck in the shadowy pits of Hueco Mundo. They never stood in the sun one late afternoon, to marry, not with how it burns.

...and yet.

There's no harm in being polite, right? They don't mind locking Glottineria in it's scabbard with an audible click when he comes into the room, to affirm lack of hostilities. Or giving him the cup of tea Aizen gives everyone at his insufferable meetings afterwards- it's not like they can drink it! ...And if sometimes, when they've been working late in the lab studying the effects and causes of Hollowfication, when Tousen gets tired and starts to call them "Kaien" and "Miyako"-

-Well, what's the harm in answering in the voices he expects to hear?

[hellion-child]

ok after seeing gifs and having the time to think about the episode itself some more, i have some thoughts. about how poorly it was done, abrupt, and like a slap in the face, etc. i still hate the notes of biphobia in it but also i can Forgive the biphobia if they also take the time to address the biphobia, yknow?

pls keep in mind that this is partly my interpretation, partly my fix-it/make-it-make-sense, partly my criticism. also im not a writer, im a bitch w brain damage to the communication part of their brain who refuses to shut the fuck up lmao this shit is hard for me to write out

so its the 6 month anniversary date and tommy is all in, hes exactly what we were shown him to be: fucking smitten. he gives his boyfriend an (i assume expensive gift?) (idk bball ticket prices) anniversary gift. buck doesnt have a gift for him, but like thats not the end of the world, right? its only 6 months, after all. but this moment should be the beginning of tommys insecurities. the ending of the honeymoon stage. a teeny tiny niggle of maybe buck isnt as invested in this relationship as tommy thought?

maybe thats just a fleeting insecurity that is immediately fueled by the hot chick. again, hate to lean into the biphobic stereotypes. as a bisexual, fucking hate it. buck unconsciously going to use his phone to take the picture and hot chicks "trying to get my number" comment. the way buck doesnt just say "actually im here with my boyfriend" (and buck doesnt have to say it, he can come out to who he wants to, when he wants to, when hes comfortable to. im firm on this but i can also acknowledge that it can also feed into tommys insecurities) this shouldve been when tommys insecurities start coming in and they shouldve shown it. show us the way tommy might use his cool confidence as a mask to hide his vulnerability!!

instead of bringing up abby now, let tommy sit on this feeling. hell, show us that hes feeling this way and hates it. we know hes all for clear communication, and has come a long way with himself. hes confident and comfortable. so show us him struggling with feeling insecure about buck possibly not being as invested as he is. eg with the one sided-gifting, tommy always showing up for buck and we havent been shown buck reciprocating (which means fuck-all with this show but could be used rn to further the angst), the reminder buck is new to dating men etc

they couldve shown us tommy talking to hen or chim about feeling insecure about bucks baby bi status and "being his first but not his last" and hating that he feels that way. that hes doubting buck like this. they gave us this man who worked hard to be where he is, why couldnt they take one fucking scene to show this to us?? its pretty common, actually, for a LI to talk to one of the 118 without the LIs partner being there. but not this LI? ok.

and bcos of how shitty tommy feels about it all, that is why he, uncharacteristically, does not talk about it with buck. tommy is still processing this internally and isnt comfortable bringing it up to buck. but we know buck, hes good at picking up on when something is wrong. maybe he asks and tommy brushes it off. maybe buck says nothing yet and just feels a little, wrong-footed maybe? a little insecure himself? something he has been working on in himself for a long time now and doesnt want to put on tommy.

and that leads to the abby of it all. for the bare minimum of fucking continuities sake, they were never engaged lmao just together a long time during a difficult time for both of them (tommy closeted and abby w her mothers decline) maybe they were talking marriage. i wanted this to come up in another scene (maybe even another ep). i think it makes more sense, for buck to straight up say in this conversation that yeah, he is The Himbo.

tbh, play into the absurdity of it all, classic 911 style. like, this convo happens when one is heading to work or something?? so the only time they have is to think "huh, what are the odds??" and awkwardly laugh about it. set it up that they dont have the chance to really think about the implications until later, when theyre apart.

later comes. and now, they are both spiralling. theyre both feeling insecure in their relationship, for different- and unknown to the other!!- reasons. this is when miscommunication takes over and both parties are hurt and confused and brings them to the point of being unable to have that mature, adult conversation about their issues

buck still goes to maddie, and josh still gives his lovely speech. now bucks feeling better about tommys past (also when maddie makes her "turned them gay" comment buck corrects her and fucking says hes bisexual) wouldve been great to see tommy talk to someone too, about him and abby and abby and buck. also fill in some of them plot holes while they are at it lmao

tommy talking to bobby, preferably. bcos he wasnt Captain Dad when tommy was there, they were never close. and they mention how tommy only referred to abby as "his gf" and she never had the time or interest to meet the 118 or visit the station idk and tommy didnt push for it either. give their relationship some nuance and clarity i guess!! and back up joshs great speech with some of how tommy felt back in those days! really take the time to fill all of this out, yknow?? and maybe talking with bobby about their shared past helps tommy feel a bit more secure with buck right now and ready to talk about it with him.

and now we get to the break up. now that these cracks are shown and seemingly repaired. they both try to talk about their insecurities, but it just goes wrong. buck spooks tommy with the moving in and marriage talk, tommy hurts buck with the "im ur first not ur last."

except this time tommy isnt saying it like a its a fact, instead he says that he fears that hes bucks first but not last. but buck takes that badly (understandable), like tommy hasnt been as invested in this relationship since he apparently has been waiting to break up for 6 months? and if so then why act like he was all in? etcetc

and tommy, yeah tommy has some shit to work thru still, but its also the way buck is talking of moving in and marriage and forever, his impulsiveness has tommy questioning again if they are really on the same page here. i can see tommy getting stuck on the "move in with me" bcos why would tommy leave his larger home to move into bucks loft? has buck even thought about this at all? hell, while they discuss abby, u could have buck, in an attempt to reconnect and reassure his trust in tommy, talk about mistakes hes made with exes (obvi example, what happened with taylor). and instead of reassuring tommy, it does the opposite (tbh im not a big fan of that, bringing up bucks past mistakes. but also it kinda does balance out tommys treatment of abby and continue bucktommys tit-for-tat sharing, yknow? except this time it goes wrong)

basically, theyre both trying to communicate and work thru these insecurities, these fucking hurdles, but theyre both too hurt and scared in this moment and we are watching them both try to make sense of it all and work it out, and we know they both want to but in this moment they just, cant. emotions are high and it gets a little mean (from both sides! not just tommy saying "i was never ur last", let buck do more than just be broken up with), the break up happens, tommy leaves.

(and then they cry and pine and get angry and try to move on and they cant and then somethings brings them back together (CTH!! 🚁💥🏥) and now they are in a better place to communicate and work thru these issues and kiss and make up and maybe at some point during all this theres a discussion or two about biphobia)

thanks fer reading this fukcing novel lmao i just feel that, if they had taken the fucking time to let this storyline fucking breath (god, let any of them breath this season, fuck) and put some fucking effort into it, i would not be so upset. maybe they had intended to portray some of this in that episode, if so they did it fucking terribly

anyway. again, im not very good at this but i love talking about and reading other ppls thoughts!! if someone feels they could write something more coherently, god. pls do lmao (also pls tell me if theres a typo or word or sentence that just makes no sense, i triple checked but aphasia is a cunt lmao)

[watarfallar]

*gay braincell tossing*

Scar: Do you have any idea what you’re doing? Grian: Why start now?

Grian: I love you. Scar: I love me too.

Grian: I literally cannot believe I let you talk me into this. Scar: I literally said “I have an idea,” and you just went along with it without question.

Scar: Snow got me feeling some type of way. Grian: That's hypothermia.  Scar: Damn, the paramedics told me it was the magic of Christmas.

Grian: Surgery is basically just stabbing someone to life. Scar: Please never become a surgeon.

Scar: *gets set on fire and screams in agony* Scar: Nah, I’m just kidding. Fire does nothing to me.

Scar: Damn, the power went out. Grian: Don’t worry, I got this. Grian: *stomps foot* Scar: What-? Grian: *Sketchers light up*

Grian: We either die free, or die trying! Scar: Are those the only choices?

Scar: I’m totally useless. Grian: You’re not totally useless. Grian: You can be used as a bad example.

Scar: Fellas, I gotta know for science. Is the opposite of red green or blue? Grian: Technically a mix of green and blue? Scar: So blurple. Grian: That's implying you're mixing blue and purple. Scar: Would you rather have fucking bleen? MOTHERFUCKING GRUE? Grian: You were confusing before but now I'm scared.

Scar: Why is it so hard for you to believe me?! Grian: ... Scar: Oh, right. The lying.

Grian: You’re not jealous, are you? Scar: No! Grian: Good, ‘cause I consider my fake relationship with you a lot more meaningful.

Scar: And what did we learn, Grian? Grian: Tackling someone isn’t the correct response to being asked a simple question.

Scar: You know, it’s fine to admit you were wrong. Grian: *Sipping their drink after accidentally adding salt* I just like the way it tastes.

Scar: You are a solid 11/10. Grian: Aw, thank- Scar: Which is 1.1 because you look like shit.

Scar: And have you learnt anything this Christmas, Grian? Grian: …Not really. Scar: Nothing? Grian: Tell you one thing I have learnt—Christmas; ultimately, commercial holiday. Who's the real winner at Christmas? Amazon. they have drones now! Tiny little dystopian slaves delivering iPads and headphones. I ordered a toaster; It was on the doorstep five hours later! Do we need that? It was 4.99! For a toaster! I mean, someone's being exploited there.

Grian: Kill him. Scar: This is the kind of quality advice I look for.

Scar: There are no friends when playing board games. I am here to win.

Grian, texting: Scar, will you please go to sleep? Scar, texting back: What makes you think you didn’t just wake me up? Grian, yelling: I CAN HEAR YOU CLAPPING TO THE FRIENDS THEME EVERY TWENTY MINUTES SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP! Grian, texting: Just a hunch :) You goin’ to sleep soon? Scar, texting: I’m trying Grian, yelling again: TRY HARDER I HAVE A 5:45 AM MEETING TOMORROW BITCH Grian, texting: Okay, don’t stay up too late or you’ll be cranky :)

Scar: I’m a masochist, not a loser.

Scar: Wow, that was quick thinking on that phony sacrifice stuff. Grian: Oh, that was all real. Scar: Wait, you were trying to help them kill us?! Grian: If I’m gonna be sacrificed, I’m gonna do it right.

Grian: *spins around in chair ominously* I’ve been expecting y- *chair continues to spin* shit *tries to stop spinning* shit *tries to grab a table to stop spinning* sHIT *falls out of chair*

Grian: I’m not stupid, you know. Scar: Well, you’re doing a really good impression of it!

Scar: Why do you think I don’t like you? I do. I would kill for you. Scar: Ask me to kill for you. Grian: ...First of all, calm down-

Scar: Grian, you’ve tried 37 times and you’ve failed every time. Give it a break. Grian: DO I HEAR “FIRST TRY PART 38?”

Grian: I know how this must look but I can assure you we have a perfectly logical explanation. Scar: Yeah! We’re cowards!

Scar: *holds a gun out to Grian* Grian: I-I don't believe in guns. Scar: Well, trust me, they're very real. Now take it.

Scar: I owe you one. Grian: That’s ok. You can just date me and we’ll call it even.

Grian: I hate you with every inch of my body! Scar: That’s not a lot of inches.

Scar, to Grian: You drink too much, swear too much, and your morals are highly questionable. Grian: … Scar: You are everything I’ve ever wanted in a best friend.

Scar: I need a long word. Grian: T-rex but the long one.

Grian: I see the red flags, I acknowledge that they're there, and then I completely ignore them.

Grian: You know you've made it when you see your picture everywhere you go. Scar: Those are wanted posters!

[milykins]

One More Night

I felt inspired by @justalotoffanfiction who wrote a Bayverse Raph story based on Mr. Brightside, so I thought I'd try my hand writing something based on a different song, One More Night by Maroon 5.

TW: Angst, Abuse toward Raph, verbal and physical, swearing and mentions of sex.

*Aged up characters

*Bayverse Raph × Reader

*HEA ending guaranteed

Special thanks to @avery73 for beta-reading!

Even the strongest of us can fall victim to this type of treatment. Raphael was no exception.

SLAP!

The sound reverberated off of the paper-thin walls in the tiny apartment. She was hitting him again. She was always angry at him for some reason. Why the hell was he here again? Oh, yeah, because she wanted to fuck him. This was always the reason.

He got a little bit of satisfaction seeing her shake her hand after slapping him, though it did nothing to quell her seemingly burning hatred toward him. If anything, she looked more enraged that his skin was so tough.

“You ASSHOLE! You think you can come and go as you please?! I’ve been waiting for you for hours!” She was screaming at him because his patrol had gone longer than it normally would, and she did not like to be kept waiting.

He knew this, and he should care, but he didn't. This… ‘thing’ they’d had going on had been well-established for months, but any time something went awry or didn’t go according to plan, she exploded. It’s not like she could really hurt him… slapping, hitting, throwing things at him. It didn’t really matter. That’s what he tried to tell himself, to make excuses for her behaviour because, on the other hand, being with her had resulted in some of the hottest sex imaginable. That’s why he kept coming back. That’s why they both kept coming back.

It still made him angry though. Fucking bitch.

“FUCKING FINE! I’ll just fucking GO THEN.” He meant it and whirled around to leave.

“Don’t you take another step Raphael.” She snapped; her voice deadly low. “Get the hell over here.”

He should leave. He should shut this down right now and never come here again. They both knew that this wasn’t healthy, but he couldn’t stop coming.

And she knew it.

Moments later he’d spanned the length of the room and had her pressed tightly against the wall, kissing her ravenously, his hand fisted in her hair. She was just as desperate, hands clawing at him, trying to remove his clothes, and throwing his weapons to the ground. As hot as that was, he’d never liked how she had no respect for them or cared about how dangerous they were. All she had cared about was getting what she wanted.

In the aftermath, he laid in her bed staring at the ceiling hating himself. She was deeply asleep beside him blissfully unaware of his conflicting feelings. She’d apologize of course in her moments of clarity, even promise that next time she’d be nicer, gentler. She never kept that promise.

Quietly, as only a ninja could, he dressed, retrieved his weapons, tucking them safely into his belt and left. He felt like such an idiot. He needed to stop fucking doing this. He knew his brothers and their father were worried about him but he shut down anytime anyone tried to ask him about it. The only one who had any idea of what was going on was Casey.

“Dude, she sounds fucking awful, why do you keep going there?”

“Cuz she’s hot and the sex is amazing.”

“No pussy is worth this, man. She’s slapping the shit out of you every time you go.”

“’s fine, it doesn’t really hurt me any.”

“Maybe not physically, but it ain’t great for your head.”

“I’m fine.”

They’d left it at that; but as time went on, he was slowly coming to the realization Casey was right. This wasn’t good for him but he kept going back. He needed to stop; he needed a reason to cut ties with her for good.

You ended up being that reason.

You’d been best friends throughout your teens and had lost touch after the two of you had met your respective partners. Your relationship had ended disastrously with him cheating on you with a ‘friend’ of yours. Immediately, you cut ties and burned those bridges with both of them. Now single, your thoughts had turned back to Raph. You wondered how he was doing and hoped he was happy. You wished the two of you could reconnect and catch up, but you were afraid he’d forgotten all about you.

It's funny how life works sometimes. One Saturday night, you heard glass breaking in the apartment below you. You had just moved in and had groaned when you realized there was probably a loud argumentative couple living below you now. Hearing more noise and muffled yelling prompted you to go to your balcony to see what was going on. You figured you could call the police if it got really bad and you were just a tiny bit nosy.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for what you saw and heard.

“You’re fucking crazy! I’m done. WE’RE FUCKING DONE! I ain’t never coming back here!” It was Raph, it was unmistakably his voice. You’d know it anywhere.

Craning your neck over the side of your balcony you looked far as you could and saw him. The poor guy looked like a wreck. There was red liquid and bits of broken glass all down his front. From what you could see, it appeared to be remnants of a glass of wine. You could assume that it had been hurled at him along with the entire bottle it looked like.

“Don’t you fucking walk out on me, Raphael! GET BACK HERE!” The woman who’d thrown those things was screaming at him but he wasn’t turning back.

It was only when you heard the screen door slam shut that you dared call out to him. “Raph?”

He heard you, how could he not? Seconds later, he was swinging himself up to your balcony, whispering your name in surprise and looking ashamed at his appearance. He hurriedly brushed any remaining pieces of glass to the floor. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“I just moved here.” Unable to stop yourself, you reached to grab his arm but stopped when you saw him physically tense up. What had happened to him? He used to be so strong in your eyes, and now he looked afraid to have you touch him.

Slowly, as if you were approaching a scared animal, you gently pulled him inside. You couldn’t help but notice that he just looked so angry and… broken.

“Are you okay?” You knew your concern was valid since he was quiet a long moment before answering.

“…I’m fine.” He was lying to you, and he hated himself for doing that. He regretted it the moment those two words left his lips.

Sucking in a breath you gently grabbed those huge biceps of his and met his troubled gaze. God, you’d missed those piercing green eyes of his. “You’re not fine Raph… you’re covered in wine and…” You looked at his face, studying it more. “Does she… hit you?”

He turned away in shame as he tensed. “Doesn’t hurt none…”

You narrowed your gaze, your own anger rising up as you gave those arms a squeeze. “How often is she hitting you, Raph…?” Again, when he doesn’t answer right away your tone and your grip become harder. “How. Often?”

He spoke so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “A lot…” If he’s finally admitting it to someone, it should be you.

A lump was quickly forming in your throat as you realized what had been going on. What kind of relationship he’d been dealing with. Why he was so tense and unsure. How unhealthy it was and why you hadn’t heard from him in so long.

“Raph… that’s… abuse. She’s abusing you.” You whispered these words because it hurt you to say them any louder. You knew Raph would never lay a hand against a woman, but you never expected him to be on the receiving end of this kind of thing.

His first instinct was to argue against that. He bristled as he backed away out of your grasp, walls of defense shooting in place as he tried to deny it. That was ridiculous! Him being abused.

“No it ain’t! I’d know if I was… that’s fucking ridiculous!” He’d curled his hands into large fists, his shoulders hunched and slightly shaking with his denial.

You can feel him practically vibrating with humiliation and uncertainty. You say nothing more as you go to him and start gently rubbing his shell. You’d done this often for him when you both were younger. The action was soothing to him whenever he was angry and upset about something. When you finally felt him relax, you moved around to his front, hugging him tightly. A few tears slip down your cheeks, adding to the wine stains on his red hoodie. You felt absolutely broken for him.

“Please don’t say you’re fine Raph… not to me…” You attempted to swallow the lump and keep your tears at bay. “It’s okay… It’s okay to admit this is happening to you, and it’s okay to leave…” You choked out a sob. “It’s okay… to not be okay. I’m here for you.”

That was it. Finally, finally, the walls fall down as his arms came around you holding you so tight you could barely breathe. He’d been living a lie for so long, spent too many months with this appalling treatment, but seeing you, hearing that was all it took. The dam broke; he buried his face into your shoulder, shaking slightly as he finally allowed himself to break.

He was crying, you realized as he quietly sobbed, his own tears joining yours as you cried together. “It’s okay, big guy…” you choked out. “It’s gonna be okay…” You rubbed his shell as best you could, being an anchor for him in his time of need.

When he finally looked up, you could see his mask was damp, his expression vulnerable and unsure accompanied with shaky breaths. You suddenly had the urge to kiss him. Where had that come from? You two were just friends… right? Plus, this wasn’t the right time… he needed to get his head right and recover. You shook the thought away and took his hand, guiding him to your couch. “Take that off.” You softly ordered. “I’ll wash it.”

Too exhausted to fight or argue, he listened and removed both his red mask and hoodie. Gently, you took them and threw both items into your washing machine with laundry soap and oxyclean. Hopefully, that would be enough to remove the wine stains.

He relaxed into your couch and called for you. “C’mere.” The request was soft yet held a note of urgency. When you approached, he reached for you and pulled you onto his lap. “Jus’ wanna hold you,” he murmured, needing your comfort and closeness, something he’d been severely lacking in for a long time.

It was easy to melt into his embrace and wrap your arms around him in return. “I gotcha big guy…”

He held you quietly for a long time, just breathing in your scent and taking in your soft energy. This was the turning point, the sign he’d needed to make a permanent change in his life and cut that toxic woman out of his life. He hadn’t felt like he had the strength to do it previously, but with your support, now he did.

“Thank you… for bein’ here…”

“I’ll always be here for you Raph…”

True to his word, he’d made good on his decision to completely cut ties with her. There had been even more yelling and items being thrown at him, but he was done. Once he’d made up his mind, that was it. He was one hundred percent DONE. She didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell to come back from it.

You were there waiting for him when he told you the news and were so happy and relieved or him. His brothers, in turn, were also relieved with Mikey even calling to thank you for being there for his big brother.

He visited you regularly, now having a much better reason to go to that same apartment building. The two of you slowly reconnected and started making up for lost time. You were a crucial part of his recovery and ended up being a major element in his support system. The feelings you had toward him from that fateful night had only grown stronger, but you wouldn’t act on them. You couldn’t, not until he was fully healed.

Raph had been realizing how wrong he’d been to let you go and had vowed to make it up to you. It was little things at first, stopping by after patrols with pizza, sending you a random meme that he hoped would make you laugh, and bringing you your favourite latte in the mornings. He was slowly coming to terms with how much he had missed this and how much he had missed you. This is what a healthy relationship looked like, and he felt like a fool for not seeing it earlier.

It was a few months later that it had finally hit him over the head that what he’d needed and what he truly wanted had been right in front of him all along. He saw you, and when he’d nervously confessed his feelings, he’d been absolutely elated when you’d told him you felt the same way.

That first kiss you two shared had been the pinnacle of his journey to healing.

Afterwards, you’d held him close and whispered these words.

“No one will ever hurt you again.”

Because you would make sure of it.

The End

@danceingfae @thelaundrybitch @iridescentflamingo @redsrooftopprincess @ninnosaurus @the-cauldron-witch @thepinkpanther83 @avery73 @adebauchedsloth @sophiacloud28 @definitely-canon @scholastic-dragon