#the last couple of weeks have been RELENTLESS
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dilf-hunter-fantasies · 3 days ago
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[900 words of fluff, smut, and breeding kink]
Daydreaming about...
Husband!Joel Miller and the first time it slipped from your lips.
You hadn’t meant for it to happen. 
It was a sultry summer evening, the kind where the air still clung to you even after the sun dipped below the horizon. You’d both been a little buzzed, the walk home from the neighborhood block party filled with laughter and teasing touches. 
Joel had barely managed to close the front door before his lips were on yours, his hands greedy and warm as they wandered under your sundress.
It had been the kind of night where everything felt heightened—the taste of his tongue against yours, the way his calloused palms felt against your skin, and how his every touch seemed to unravel you. He’d taken you to bed with that intense, unfiltered adoration in his eyes, the kind that always left you weak in the knees. 
He was almost too much, murmuring worshipful praises into your ear, and against every inch of your skin. He had that sparkle in his eyes that made you melt. Everything was a pleasant blur, the way your bodies fit together, your giggles as he nearly growled, trying to pull you closer. 
The haze of his tender, overwhelming love, was more intoxicating than the warmth of the sun and the last hints of alcohol buzzing in your veins. He was pure devotion, attuned to every part of your body, every thought you might have, and coaxing you into a state of euphoria. 
You didn’t even realize you were talking, rambling softly between gasping breaths as he rocked into you, filling you to the brim until your eyes rolled back. But you’d been singing sweet praises right back to him. 
“So good,” you whispered. “Just like that, fuck.” 
And he did exactly as you said, hitting that perfect angle that had you floating away, lost in the bliss. 
And then it happened. 
Slipping free, soft and breathy between moans. “Oh, fuck,” your brows scrunching together in that way they always did when you were close. “Cum deep, baby, I need it.” Another moan rolled through you as he thrust his cock so deep it kissed the end of you. “That’s it. I want to carry it inside me, always. Fill me up until it takes, Joel.” 
Joel had frozen for a moment, his gaze locking on yours with an intensity that stole your breath. His cock twitched inside of you like he was somehow even harder than he’d ever been. Something primal flickered in his dark eyes, his jaw tightening before he let out a deep, guttural groan. 
Whatever switch you’d flipped in him sent him spiraling into something wild, feral. He’d pumped into you like it was his sole purpose, whispering filth and adoration in equal measure, his body relentless against yours until you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. A tangled vine of limbs. 
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Now, a couple of years into your marriage, that same insatiable energy has returned. But this time it’s real. Tangible. The decision to start trying for a baby had been an exciting one, but you hadn’t anticipated how it would unleash a new, unstoppable side of your husband.
Joel’s been radiating pure, unadulterated want for weeks now. It’s in the way he looks at you, like you’re the only thing that matters in the entire universe. It’s in his hands, which can’t seem to stay off you, whether he’s tugging you into his lap on the couch, pressing against you in the kitchen, or pulling you into the shower under the guise of saving water.
You’re attempting to finish making dinner when you feel him behind you. His strong arms slide around your waist, his chest pressing firmly against your back. His hands find their way to your hips first, then drift upward, cupping your breasts as his thumbs tease over the sensitive peaks through the thin fabric of your shirt.
“Sweetheart,” he drawls, his voice rough and low, sending shivers down your spine. “How am I s’posed to keep my hands off ya when you look like this?”
“Joel,” you protest weakly, though the way your breath catches betrays you. “I’m trying to cook.”
“Don’t care,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Need you, darlin’. Right here, right now.” His hands trail lower, his fingers slipping under the waistband of your leggings, and you’re gone, dinner long forgotten as he husks into your ear about how he’s gotta keep you filled up. Spouting off nonsense like how he can hear your pussy beggin’ for him, how she’s feelin’ empty and needs him too.
And somehow, no matter how filthy and feral he gets for you, it’s endearing. Wrapped in love and yearning for the idea of a family. Of more to love. 
The rest of your days—and nights—follow the same pattern. 
You find yourself pinned against the kitchen counter, bent over the couch, tangled in the sheets. He’s unstoppable, each touch, kiss, and thrust carrying a purpose that leaves you trembling and breathless.
Even at work, he’s insatiable. A quick trip to his job site to drop off his lunch turns into a heated, stolen moment in the back of your car. His kisses are ravenous, his hands rough but loving as he pulls you into his lap, his gruff voice murmuring, “Can’t wait, baby. Need you now.”
Every touch feels like a vow, every whispered word a promise. Joel loves you with his whole being, and now, with the thought of building a family together, that love has taken on an obsessive edge that leaves you dizzy and utterly devoted to him.
Late one night, as you lie together in the afterglow, his hand splayed possessively over your lower belly, he looks at you with those hearts in his eyes.
“This time,” he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. “I feel it.” 
And you believe him. 
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elpsycongruent · 10 months ago
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fave ghost trick character(s) for the bingo card? 👻
ghost trick is a funny one for this specific bingo card; it's such a tight story, the characters are all fantastic, and the ending is SO GOOD, that I don't actually think it's even possible to get a bingo?
but anyway, here's the Actual Best Boy Ever, missile!
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emphasis on the charming, and the solving all the problems in the entire story, because holy shit. [REDACTED FOR SPOILERS] works hard, but our valiant little doggie works harder.
speaking of, here's our master manipulator, [REDACTED FOR SPOILERS]:
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yes, he is both too stupid to live (and boy howdy...) AND completely brilliant. he contains multitudes. also again: THAT ENDING T_T
hilariously, cabanela's bingo card is almost identical. he just gets one more square:
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is he gay? is he bi? i'm not sure, but regardless, he is FABULOUS.
and finally, have our baby rooster of a detective, lynne!
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your honor, i love her <3
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vampmilf · 1 year ago
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#i just need to make it 48 more days i just need to make it 48 more days i just need to make it 48 more days#clutching the sink knuckles white and repeating it into the mirror like affirmations#istg im running out of momentum and patience and willpower like what exactly am i even supposed to do here#i miss feeling like home and i miss being loved and i miss having people care about me like. man this sucks.#i keep trying to focus on the fact that at least i have the scenery and the peace that i wanted but mannnnn. what the hell#this has been building up for so long and esp the last couple months and im trying sooo hard to hold back a relapse im telling myself like#ok just make it 5 more days bc then the number on the day counter looks prettier <3 ok now just make it another 5 days <3 !#and another 5 days <3 okay maybe just one more day you can do one more day <3#and its not like i want it to happen obviously but at this point i think its naive to pretend like it wont bc ooohhh boy if i dont#manage the jump into the next manic episode and crash instead like. at this point ive bottled it up for so long i know its gonna be#a bad one#if i just time myself right and fuck myself up a little i can make these episodes last until concert week and then thats gonna give me a#good enough boost to last me another month and then its gonna be spring and that can carry me and then its gonna be summer and ill be#extra busy w tourist season and after that maybe this will either fix itself or ill be in a better position to at least#catch myself if i crash#idk man.#doing bad teehee#the torment is relentless and the horrors never cease but you gotta keep on slayin 💅🏼✨️✨️ so thats what ill do 💅🏼✨️✨️✨️✨️
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vroomvro0mferrari · 4 months ago
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LN4 | Vexing Vacation – Part 1
Summary: When you agreed to join your brother on his vacation, sharing a room with his best friend wasn’t part of the plan. Now, that you’re constantly stuck with Lando and his relentless teasing, you’re not sure whether you want to strangle him or kiss him.
Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader, one-bed trope, a lot of banter and a hint of forced proximity :)
WC: 3.1K
Warnings: mentions of sex/sexual insinuations, and cursing (as always)
Masterlist | Part 2
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Y/N sighed as she stared at her suitcase. She would never get it closed without breaking the zipper. She opened it again, going through the selection of clothes while she asked herself which of her items weren’t absolutely necessary. The unfortunate answer was that she needed everything. 
She had wild plans for the short vacation her brother had invited her on. According to him, she had been too stressed the last couple of months, and she desperately needed some time off. Along with the promise that he’d take care of everything, she had agreed to join his trip. She could use a one-night stand, or two and a little flirting to get her mind off her busy job.
However, there was the small nuisance of Lando coming along. Ever since he gained some confidence after his career took off and girls started herding him, he had been mocking her and making extremely inappropriate comments. He had changed over the years and Max had told her all about it. He told her about his new endeavours with the ladies; how he brought a different girl home every weekend and never spoke to them again. The attention was feeding his ever-growing ego, and it annoyed Y/N endlessly. He needed someone to put him in his place, and she would volunteer every time.
She smiled triumphantly when she finally zipped her suitcase closed with half an hour to spare. Sitting on her couch and scrolling on her phone, she waited for her brother to pick her up on his way to the airport. They greeted each other quickly before they took off, Y/N and Pietra catching up and discussing their plans for the week as Max drove.
Once they arrived at the airport, she spotted Lando all too quickly, casually leaning against a pillar near the check-in. He was wearing sunglasses (inside – like some lunatic) and a cocky smile on his face when he saw them approaching. 
“Y/N Fewtrell. It’s been a while…”
“If only it lasted longer,” She responded.
Lando smiled at her reply, enjoying her feisty character whereas Max hissed into her ear, “Play nice.” 
“Let’s board?” Lando asked. “The jet’s ready, I think.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Private?”
“Yes. Are you impressed?”
“Hardly,” she scoffed before rolling her suitcase to the plane.
The group arrived at their destination in no time – flying private really did have its perks – and drove the rental car to the resort. Taxis were a no-go when half of the people on the trip were professional drivers, and apparently, so were ordinary cars. 
The porter took the bags out of the trunk and Lando handed the keys to the valet driver before they entered the hotel. Y/N took a seat in one of the luxurious chairs in the hotel lobby while she let her brother manage the check-in. She was people-watching when the group joined her.
“Okay… So, there’s been a little mishap…” Y/N looked at her brother with narrowed eyes.
“What did you do?” She said in a low tone.
“So, I may have forgotten to book an extra room for you…” Max admitted.
“What?”
“And they have no other rooms left, even the most expensive ones are taken.”
“Please tell me you’re joking.” 
“I’m not,” he paused, “but, you can share with Lando.”
Of course, Lando would oh-so-heroically offer to share his room with her. She could just smack the smirk right off his face.
“Max, can I talk to you for a minute – in private?” Y/N asked, an innocent smile on her face, before forcefully pulling her brother aside.
“I can’t sleep in the same room as Lando, Max. I had plans for this vacation, plans that can’t happen if I’m sharing a room with Lando.”
Max raised an eyebrow at her insinuation but didn’t comment on it. “Well, what other option do you have?” He said, crossing his arms.
“I could share a room with Pietra, and you can share with Lando…” she suggested, smiling up at her brother sweetly. “Please?”
Max sighed. “I don’t know about that, Y/N. Pietra and I have plans too, you know. Plans that include nightly activities. In bed,” He clarified.
Y/N pulled a face of disgust but offered her brother the same courteousness of ignoring the comment. “Are you serious, Max? You’re okay with me, your little baby sister, sharing a room – a bed, with Lando Norris? You know well enough that he’s always trying to get into my pants. This is your fault, you know. You told me you had taken care of everything.”
“I don’t like this as much as you do, but there’s not really another choice, is there?”
“Yes, there is. I told you, I can room with—”
“Y/N. Don’t be childish, you’ll be fine sharing a room for a few nights.”
“He’s going to try to take my innocence, Max. You can’t let that happen. You’re my big brother. You’re supposed to protect me, not throw me into the lion’s den.” Y/N tried, pulling out all the stops in the hope Max would change his mind. There was no other card she could play. She was tugging on his arm, practically begging him in the middle of the hotel lobby. If Lando and Pietra didn’t already know what was going on, they sure would know now.
Max rolled his eyes. “Your innocence has been gone for years, I’m sure,” Y/N gasped in offence, “It’s not going to work, make the best of it, yeah?” He concluded, patting her back before walking back to the group. 
She watched as her brother walked away, frustration clear on her face, but she joined him only a couple of seconds later; she needed to make the best of this, after all, and it was too late to go home now.
As her eyes met Lando’s, she could already feel a wave of irritation come over her. He was standing casually, the stupid sunglasses still perched on his nose, hands tucked in his pockets, and a smirk plastered on his face as if he knew exactly how her conversation had gone.
“You really don’t want to share a bed with me, do you?” He asked her as soon as she was near enough.
Y/N crossed her arms, glaring at him. “What gave it away?”
“Could’ve been the part where you begged your brother not to throw you into the lion’s den,” Lando said, raising his eyebrows playfully. “Or maybe the part where you said I’m always trying to get into your pants.” He feigned hurt, putting a hand over his chest. “All those years of flirting down the drain…”
He chuckled softly at her angry expression, the sound infuriatingly smug. “Look, you’re making this into a bigger deal than it is. But don’t worry,” he added, his voice dropped as he leaned closer, “I’ll be the gentleman here. You can take the couch.”
Y/N blinked. “What?” She hissed.
“The couch, it’s all yours. I’ll suffer through the luxury of the bed.” He sighed dramatically before turning toward the elevator, casually slinging his bag over his shoulder.
“See you upstairs, roommate,” he winked, stepping inside as the doors slid shut.
Her jaw was slack as she watched him disappear behind the sliding doors. She turned to Max angrily, “What the fuck is wrong with him? Did he fall on his head as a child or something?”
Pietra laughed softly as she wrapped her arms around Max’s waist. “He’s just teasing you, Y/N. It’ll be fine. Come on, let’s go up.”
– – – – –
“I’m not sleeping on the couch,” Y/N said as soon as she entered the room.
“Oh, hello. Good to see you.” Lando smiled smugly from his position on the bed.
She glared at him – if looks could kill he’d be dead ten times over by now. “Get. Off. My. Bed.” She forced out through her gritted teeth.
Lando stretched out even further on the bed, hands behind his head. “Your bed? If I’m not mistaken, you were an afterthought to this vacation. This room was originally mine. You should be glad I’m kind enough to share it with you.”
Y/N stared at him. She wanted to rebuke him and tell him to stay on the couch, but he was right – although she’d never admit it to his face. He was doing her a favour by sharing his room, but he would never be chivalrous enough to sacrifice his bed. She took a deep breath. “Fine,” she said, her voice cold and direct. “I guess we’ll share the bed.”
“Fine with me,” Lando said offhandedly as he messed with the remote control.
“Alright, then. I’ll go get ready for dinner.” 
The silence that settled over the room was awkward, at best. Y/N felt Lando’s eyes pricking in her back as she did her makeup, and the eye contact through the mirror didn’t make it any better.
“What?” She asked, hoping for some conversation to fill the quiet.
“Nothing,” Lando responded, averting his eyes and continuing to browse through the series and movies on the TV.
Y/N frowned at the response. She’ll have to raise a topic of conversation herself, then. “Why is it so cold in here?” She asked.
“I don’t know,” Lando retorted.
“Do you think it’s cold or are you okay with the temperature?” She continued, but Lando merely shrugged in response.
Y/N sighed, setting down her brush and powder before getting up to look at the air-conditioning setting. In contrast to the rest of the room, it was an old-fashioned system with a disk with a pointer to set the temperature. She turned the disk, but the pointer didn’t move.
“Are you getting hotter?” She asked confused, not feeling a temperature difference in the air blowing out of the air conditioner. 
“Don’t even try,” she added quickly before Lando could respond, already seeing the smirk form on his face.
It quickly changed into an innocent smile, “What? I was just going to say I don’t feel a difference.”
“Mhm, sure. I think the air conditioner is broken. I turned the temperature up, but it’s not getting any warmer…”
Lando got up from the bed with a sigh and walked closer to look at the buttons himself. 
“You don’t have to get so close…” Y/N commented when she felt his breath hitting her neck.
“I’m trying to see what the buttons say, Y/N. I have to get close in order to do that.”
“You’re getting in my personal space.”
“Personal space? What’s that? I thought we were past the formalities.”
Y/N huffed, crossing her arms. 
“I don’t know why it’s not working,” Lando continued, “It must be broken,” he concluded before walking back to the bed. 
“What? Can’t you fix it?”
Lando looked at Y/N incredulously, “How am I supposed to fix it?”
“I don’t know… Aren’t you good with technology and stuff?”
“That thing is ancient, Y/N.”
She huffed. She’d just have to deal, then. She quickly changed into one of her dresses and finished her hair.
“Aren’t you going to change?” She asked Lando, who was still lying on the bed in his plane clothes.
“Hm?”
“We’re leaving any minute now. It’d be nice if you changed into something decent for dinner. We’re not eating at some dive bar, you know.”
Lando rolled his eyes and sighed, “Don’t you ever get tired of yourself?”
“Excuse me?” she retorted, crossing her arms as she stared him down, about to scold him when there was a knock on the door.
“You’re lucky this time,” she added, before letting Max and Pietra in. 
She plastered a sweet smile on her face and complimented Pietra on her outfit.
“I can say the same about you,” Pietra responded kindly, pulling Y/N in for a hug.
“Oh, you’re too sweet,” Y/N waved off her comment.
“Are you ready to leave?” Max cuts in.
“Yes, don’t know about Lando though. He wouldn’t change.”
“I’m ready,” he interjected. “I don’t need as much time as some people here,” he said with a teasing smile.
“Okay, let’s go.” Max pulled her out of the room before Y/N could respond, her mouth already open to rebut his rude comment.
“Did you hear that, Max? How on earth am I supposed to get through the night – let alone the entire vacation – when he talks to me like that? I swear, I’m going to strangle him in his sleep—” 
“Let’s not do that. You just need to adjust a little bit.”
“Did you hear what he said before? He asked me if I never get tired of myself. Do you know how insulting that is? He’s absolutely insufferable! His ego’s way too big, he could use someone to knock it down for him,” Y/N kept rambling as Max led her to the elevator, basically pushing her in before she quieted down.
Pietra and Lando joined them only a few seconds later, and the cocky grin on Lando’s face showed he knew exactly how much he had ticked her off, and the enjoyment he took from it. Y/N glared at him throughout the elevator ride. However, despite his earlier comments and the way he had annoyed her all day – if not all her life – she couldn’t deny he looked good. 
The white shirt he had changed into, with the top buttons open and the sleeves rolled up, accentuated his muscled arms, and allowed her to see the glimmer of the silver chain around his neck – she had to admit he was attractive. When Lando caught her looking she quickly averted her gaze, looking at her nails as she picked at them. But he had already noticed, his grin only becoming cockier. The confidence with which he carried himself, although extremely frustrating and unnecessary, had caught her eye along with all the other girls’, but it wasn’t enough to make up for his annoying behaviour.
– – – – –
The dinner was uncomfortable. 
Of course, Y/N and Lando had to be seated across from each other. And if the discussions earlier that day didn’t display their dislike for each other, the lack of conversation at the dinner table certainly did. They didn’t exchange a single word until Y/N snapped at him.
“Would you stop looking at me?” 
Her patience had worn thin after feeling his eyes on her every other second, but Lando merely smirked at the annoyance in her voice, “Where else am I supposed to look?” he asked innocently.
“I don’t know. Your food, maybe?” She shot back.
Lando raised his hands in surrender, before turning his attention to Max and Pietra, who were deep in conversation. Y/N tried to focus on their discussion, but the persistent feeling of Lando’s gaze on her was impossible to ignore. Every time their eyes met, his smirk only grew, making her jaw clench tighter.
When the meal came to an end, Y/N was more than ready to leave. She quickly collected her bag and jacket before joining Pietra on the walk back. With Lando far away from her, she could finally relax and talk comfortably, without being distracted by a pair of eyes burning holes in her face. The group quickly made their way back to the hotel, and after the elevator ride, Y/N and Lando were once again left alone.
“It’s cold in here,” she mumbled, switching the lights on as she entered the hotel room.
“You don’t say,” he responded sarcastically.
Y/N sighed, deciding to ignore the comment and rather focus on the problem at hand. “Okay, we should probably discuss how we’re going to do this…” Lando looked at her confusedly, so she continued, “As concluded earlier today, we’ll share the bed. I’ll take the left side if that’s okay?” 
Lando nodded, so she continued, “The bed is big, so if you dare cross over to my side, I’ll choke you in your sleep—” 
“Ooh, kinky,” he interjected, and Y/N flashed him a fake smile, “or I’ll tell Max, and he’ll handle it for me,” she finished.
Now, usually, Lando wouldn’t care much for her threats, but he knew Max was protective over his sister and from experience, Lando also knew that Max would indeed fuck him up if he crossed Y/N’s boundaries. He was actually surprised that Max was okay with him and Y/N sharing a room; he was usually up her ass whenever she so much as stood near a man. He didn’t know whether to be glad about it or not; did Max think Lando was like a brother to his sister, that nothing would ever happen between them, or did he trust him enough not to do anything without her permission? 
“Fine, fine. I promise I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” he told her.
Y/N squinted her eyes at him. 
“I will,” he repeated. 
She wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not, but the sincerity in his voice suited her a bit. She nodded and quickly changed into her pyjamas in the bathroom before slipping under the covers on the left side of the bed – as promised. She lay on her side, facing away from the right side where Lando would soon settle. She stayed as close to the edge as she could without falling off, so much so that Lando raised an eyebrow at her when he returned.
“You okay over there? Not lonely or cold or anything? I could warm you up if you like,” he suggested, the amusement evident in his tone.
“I’m fine,” she muttered. She wasn’t really, though. The room was freezing with the air conditioner still blasting cold air, and the thin comforter, which would normally be fine for the temperatures outside, wasn’t helping much.
She felt the bed move as Lando shifted, but she stayed silent, quietly staring out the window where she could just barely make out the street lanterns through the thin curtains. Although she pretended not to care (and would continue to do so), being this close to him made her uneasy – not because she didn’t trust him, although she wasn’t entirely convinced yet, but because of how aware she was of him. His presence, the warmth radiating from his body, and the faint scent of his cologne were all impossible to ignore in this proximity.
She closed her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep, but her mind refused to quiet. Despite everything, she couldn’t stop thinking about how he had actually been pretty decent at dinner –  apart from his frustrating staring habit – and how relaxed, confident, and hot he looked in that shirt… She hated how easily he affected her and how only he could wind her up without any effort at all.
– – – – –
Part 2
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sacklerscumrag · 6 months ago
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Metalhead Next Door
Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Notes: hello :) i got the sudden urge to write for eddie munson today for some reason lol
i'm apologizing in advance for how bad it probably is. please keep in mind that i havent written anything in a long time, let alone for eddie
but if you do read it for whatever reason, thank you i love you im giving you a big kiss rn <3
Warnings: neighbors to lovers, jealous!reader, pining, oral sex (f receiving)
Word Count: 1.4K
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A loud rumble from a run-down truck rang outside your trailer window, jolting you from sleep. The book you abandoned some hours ago slid off your chest as you sat on the bed to peek outside. Snow continued to fall and hardened on the window sill from earlier that morning, each flake a silent whisper against the palm of your hand as you held it out in the icy air. Metal music blared through the familiar window across from yours, drawing your attention toward the warm glow coming from inside. An overpowering scent of weed lingered between the two trailers—something you'd found comfort in within the last couple of months of living next door to the Munsons. Of course, you'd heard the rumors where Eddie was concerned, and you'd have to be blind not to see how people treated him around here. Everyone ignored him, wrote him off as a freak while telling the tale of the long-haired devil-worshiping drug dealer to anyone who would listen. But after almost a year of living next to Eddie, you realized that couldn't be further from the truth.
The first night, Eddie crept up on your front porch when you weren't looking, making himself comfortable on the wooden staircase, offering whatever joint he was nursing—all leather jacket and wild hair with a grin that could warm you to your core if you let yourself admire him for a little too long. Since then, you'd meet Eddie outside once everyone had gone to bed and let his wild D&D stories carry you through the night. The world around you seemed to soften around Eddie, swallowed up by the relentless comfort of his presence. Even when he was gone, one last tiny blaze of warmth and light continuously flickered in your chest for him.
The night air was crisp, making you cling to your blanket that much tighter as you curled up in bed. You nearly jumped when you heard a thump against your bedroom window, a snowball crumbling as another landed against the window pane.
"You're not gonna make me wait out here until I freeze, are you?" Eddie's voice trickled in from outside, making you smile before quickly opening the window and letting him climb in. "It's fucking freezing out there. Hey, sweetheart." Your heart warmed at the nickname as he brushed past you, flopped down on your mattress, and picked up your abandoned book. His hair looked like he'd run his hand through it far too many times today; the snow still crunched as he crossed one boot over another as scattered icicles clung to his jacket's leather and denim patches.
"Well, it's no D&D book, but-." Eddie teased before you cut him off by snatching the book, placing it on your bedside table, and settling beside him. He smirked, clearly pleased with himself for getting to you so quickly.
"So what's new with you, Munson?" You said as you sank next to him, sneaking glances whenever he wasn't looking.
"Same shit, different day. I learned a new Metallica song last week, gonna play it at our gig."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, I'll play it for you sometime." You smiled at that. "Oh shit, I was supposed to call Dustin." Eddie dramatically sat up on your bed and sighed.
"Dustin? Was it important?"
"Yeah, sort of; he's been trying to set me up with this girl. Or was it Steve setting me up? All I know is I went out with her last week, and now I gotta be at Family Video tomorrow at 6 to pick out a movie for whatever the fuck a double date movie night is." Your heart sank. Eddie was being set up; he was dating someone. And it wasn't you. Figures. He would never see you as more than a friend; all you ever did was hang out and talk about D&D; he could do that with any of his other friends. This shouldn't surprise you, but that didn't make it sting any less than it did.
"Hey, you okay?" Eddie noticed your silence amidst his rambling. You were seemingly lost in your thoughts as you toyed with your fingers. Something had shifted; your warm presence from just a minute ago felt frigid and distant.
"Yeah." You wiped the tears welling in your eyes and stood from the bed, suddenly needing to put as much distance between you as possible. "Just tired, I'm just gonna go to bed." The mere thought of Eddie snuggling up on a couch with some girl made your chest feel like it would cave in any second. You quickly turned toward your window to open it, unable to face him without fear of bursting into tears.
"Sweetheart, if I did something to piss you off, I'm sorry."
"You didn't just please…I want to go to bed." Your tone was firmer than Eddie had ever heard from you. He should go, head out through the window, and call it a night. But he couldn't. "Please." Your voice slightly cracked, and with it, a piece of Eddie's heart at the realization. When you managed to turn around, his chest was inches from your face, tenderness filling those big, brown, beautiful eyes darting back at you. His ring-clad hand cupped your cheek, skimming over your skin delicately like you would break under his touch.
Before you knew it, your mouth was on his. Your arms around his neck; he tasted like cigarettes and mint from the gum he anxiously chewed before you came in. It was intoxicating. Chills spread across your skin when his hands slid across your waist, pressing you closer to him. It didn't take long for Eddie's need for you to become apparent with feverish hands pushing you back until the desk bumped against your ass; Eddie tapped your thigh to signal you to sit on the hard surface, standing in between your legs and trailing his lips down to your neck and chest. Your hands tangled in his curls, breathing in as much of him as possible before he pulled away slightly.
"Eddie." You paused, studying his face for a moment; face flushed, hair tussled, and lips swollen and pink from your own; he was perfect. "I'm sorry. I should've told you how I felt, I-. Eddie's lips interrupted you with a searing but brief kiss as he spoke against your lips.
"Don't you dare apologize. I've been waiting so fucking long for this." A smile spread across your face, and relief flooded your chest. You tugged on his vest to draw him back to your lips as his hands began to knead your thighs, core clenching at the feeling. Whimpers escaped you from just his lips on your skin. His mouth worked its way along your neck, lifting your shirt and continuing to work his way down until he was kneeling before you.
"Can I?" You nodded as Eddie's ring-clad fingers hooked onto your shorts, pulling them off and discarding them on the floor along with your underwear. He hooked one leg over his shoulder and kissed the delicate skin of your inner thigh. "God, you have no idea how bad I've needed to taste you." Your breath hitched when you felt his tongue begin expertly working along your folds, then back toward your clit. It wasn't long before he slipped a finger inside you, then another. The chill of his rings pressing on your most sensitive spots as he plunged them in and out of you had you arching your back and squeezing your thighs tighter around Eddie. Your chest heaved; every whimper and moan that escaped was like music to his ears. Eddie consumed you like a man starved; it was like the more pleasure he drew from you, the more he wanted. He couldn't get enough. He teased your clit between his lips and began to suck hard. Eddie's movements were relentless. Your eyes screwed shut, and your core tightened until it snapped. Eddie's hand dug into the flesh of your hips to hold you in place as you squirmed against him until you were practically pushing him away. He could see the blissed look on your face as he stood and wrapped your legs around his waist, carrying you over to bed. Once you were settled, Eddie stepped toward the still-open window.
"Don't go," you whispered; a pang of fear hit you. Eddie smirked to himself before shutting the window securely, throwing his jacket on your nightstand, and crawling in beside you.
"Don't worry, sweetheart." He placed a kiss on your forehead. "I'm not going anywhere."
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fastandcarlos · 7 months ago
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Missing Piece : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri
summary: you’re supposed to be used to oscar going anyway by now, but no matter how hard you try, it still hurts just as much
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“As soon as I land, I promise I’ll give you a call, make sure that you don’t have too much fun without me.”
Your head nodded as you buried it into the crook of Oscar’s neck, refusing to let him see you, scared of what would happen.
He smiles down at you, kissing against the top of your head.
Like you, he’s trying his best to hold it together, reassuring himself that it’s only a couple of weeks and that the two of you have spent longer apart before. You could still text, still call, but it was never quite the same. Oscar knew you masked a lot, you tried not to be bothered when it was time for him to go, but deep down he knew every time stung just a little bit more than the last.
A final kiss was pressed to the side of your head as Oscar unwrapped his arms from around you, taking a hold of his suitcase as your eyes fell to the ground.
Your voice was almost silent as you said goodbye to Oscar, unable to bring yourself to watch as he closed the door of your apartment. On the other side, he sighs, knowing that the silence is how it needs to be in order for you to survive.
Straight away the silence in your apartment makes you tense up, struggling to picture yourself getting back to life with Oscar by your side. Once you were sure his car had had enough time to drive away, you finally let yourself fall. First one tear fell, quickly followed by another, and then another, until you were laid out on your sofa relentless wiping underneath your eyes. The scent of Oscar’s jumper that you wore only made things worse, he was almost there with you, to comfort you, but not quite.
Several shaky breaths came from you as you looked around the place, little reminders of Oscar placed around the rooms as he had all but moved himself into your place.
The kitchen was still full of his favourite snacks, the music playing in the background was still his playlist that he had been so excited to show you, many items of his clothing were hung on your radiators, unable to dry them in the blistery winter breeze.
Each sight makes you weaker and weaker, makes your heart ache more, silently crying out for Oscar to return to you and end your nightmare.
Every time Oscar went away it was the same old story, you tried to convince yourself that this time would be the time when you’d crack on, prove to yourself that you didn’t need Oscar to survive, but each time you failed. Maybe you’d last a day or two at most, but then you’d encounter a job or a sign of him that would send you spiralling back to the beginning again.
You found yourself alone again, on the other side of the world to the true place that you called home.
Oscar hated himself for being the reason you left behind everything, as much as you tried to convince him that you loved Monaco, he knew you wanted more. Times like these, when he left you all alone, more than anything you wanted the comfort of your family with you to scoop you up and keep you going.
Whenever the two of you spoke about it you reassured Oscar that he was worth it, that you were willing to make the sacrifice in order to make your dreams together succeed. But a small part of you had also hoped that it would all get easier, and it was anything but.
Admittedly, you were lost without Oscar, he’d been gone two minutes and already you found yourself a crumpled mess in your living room, wondering if you were going to survive.
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
Meanwhile, driving down to the airport, Oscar isn’t sitting pretty either. He’s restless, going through his list in his head once again, sensing that something isn’t quite the way it’s meant to be. Beside him Lando watches him closely, wondering what’s got into him as Oscar frantically searches through his rucksack to find what he’s looking for.
“It’s got to be in here somewhere,” he whispers to himself, searching through every single pocket. “I knew I should’ve put it in a safer place,” he continued to scold, getting more and more stressed.
Lando kept his eyes on him, “what on earth has gotten into you? Surely it can’t be that important, whatever it is.”
Oscar shot a glare across at Lando.
It was more important than anyone could ever imagine, and he refused to go any further until he had it in his hands.
“What are you going to do?” Lando asked after Oscar asked for the driver to stop the car and let him think for a moment.
Oscar glanced back across at his friend, shrugging his shoulders at the fact that they were already running late for their flight.
“I’ve got no choice, I need to go home again.”
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
It had only been a few minutes, but already Oscar had missed you, already Oscar was excited to be reunited with you again. He sent his apologies to everyone before entering your apartment block, racing up the stairs.
He was bouncing on his heels, as if the two of you were going to see each other after weeks apart as he pulled out his key. He fumbled slightly as he placed the key into the lock, turning it sharply and bursting into the room.
Oscar shot into the room, glancing everywhere to catch a glimpse of you, only when he did, his heart sunk. The key dropped to the floor, expression shattering, words failing him. You were too wrapped up in yourself to even notice that Oscar had returned, your sobs being the only noise in the room.
Whilst silently, the guilt of it all ate away at Oscar.
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
“I can’t wait to tell you all about it.”
“I can’t wait to hear all about it,” you responded, smiling widely as Oscar told you about the fight that had happened during the McLaren team dinner that night, only wishing that you’d been there to see it.
“Luckily me and Lando managed to sneak out before we got caught in the crossfire,” he assured you, giggling away to himself. “It’s going to be so awkward at the team briefing tomorrow morning.”
As Oscar spoke, you were slightly thankful you weren’t there and a part of it.
It had been a couple of days since Oscar left, and after the scene that unfolded that he left, he promised to call you every free second of the day that he had, refusing to leave you alone with your own thoughts for too long.
“I bet things are a lot busier here than they are at home,” Oscar smirked, almost envious of the calm environment you found yourself in.
His eyes lit up, enough to bring a smile to your face too.
“Your mum has been ringing me nonstop, I don’t know what you’ve said to her.”
“Not a lot,” he chuckled, lying through his teeth, “I just mentioned things were a little bit tricky for you.”
“A little bit?” You challenged, raising your eyebrow at Oscar. “I think your mum thinks I’m on the verge of a breakdown, you know she’s forcing me to send her a photo every time I have something to eat.”
“Good,” Oscar responded, failing to see the problem with what you were saying. “No one’s there to check up on you love, at least if mum is keeping an eye on you then I know too that you’re taking good care of yourself.”
You gasped, hand over heart, offended that Oscar had taken his mum’s side rather than your own. He knew you were only messing as he mocked your reaction, stunned that you didn’t see how caring his mum was being.
“If it helps, would you like me to send you photos of my food too?” Oscar offered, continuing to tease you. “I know you love race day food.”
Your eyes narrowed at him, you didn’t just love race day food, it was your obsession. Secretly, it was the only reason you actually went and supported Oscar.
“I’ll block you,” you warned, “and then no one will be able to check up on me, I’ll just live in my own little bubble of peace and quiet in the apartment.”
Oscar’s head shook as he took a sip from the drink beside him, glancing on the clock at his bedside that was getting later and later. You knew that Oscar wasn’t brave enough to tell you what he was thinking, but you knew his expression well enough by now to know that he was starting to get sleepy and needed to rest for work tomorrow.
As he looked at the screen again, Oscar knew that you knew exactly what he was hinting at too.
“I’m sorry.”
Your head shook, refusing to listen to him. “Don’t be stupid, you’ve got work, it’s important that you’re ready for tomorrow.”
“I promise that I’ll speak to you in the morning,” Oscar insisted, shuffling around on the bed so that he was laid down, phone above his head. “I’ll keep you updated as much as I can with how tomorrow goes.”
He did a good job of keeping you in the loop, tried his best to share as many updates as he possibly could with you. It wasn’t always easy, and at times Oscar had to be very sneaky, but it would be worth it to get your reply and know just how proud of him you were.
“You’ll sleep soon too, won’t you?” Oscar quizzed, doing the math in his head to know that it wasn’t far off getting late for you either.
“I will now that I’ve spoken to you,” you hummed, happy to let Oscar go for the night, and happy to know that you’d been sleeping much more comfortably too.
“I love you, wish me luck for tomorrow.”
“You don’t need luck Oscar…I love you.”
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
He’s barely able to sit still as Oscar listens to yet another gate call, hoping this time it’s for him, but not quite. His frustration builds and builds, restlessly fidgeting whilst Lando sits beside him as if he’s got all the time in the world.
Knowing how close you were only hurt Oscar more now. He was desperate to be back where he belonged, back with his best friend and back in the place that he called home. He’d been away from the missing piece in his life for too long, and now he was ready to fix the jigsaw that was his life again.
The journey felt like an age, every slight stop tormented Oscar, knowing it was pushing the time of his arrival further and further back.
What hurt him the most though was the lies, the ignorance he had for you. When he landed and turned his phone back on he was met by dozens of calls and texts, most of them full of panic. He hated that he couldn’t tell you the truth, but his mum had assured him that she would try and keep you as calm as possible.
The car barely had time to stop when it pulled up outside your home, Oscar was out like a bullet, grabbing his belongings and racing up the stairs. Standing outside your door, he composed himself, taking a deep breath in and out before knocking on the door, hoping that you were home.
You weren’t expecting anyone, lazily moving across to the door. A sigh came from you as you took the latch off, pulling down on the handle and opening the door, slowly turning your eyes up.
Oscar’s smile was bright as your eyes met, a chuckle came from him, relieved to see you and see for himself that you were alright. It took you a moment to realise who was before you, but as soon as you did, you were stepping forwards, throwing yourself into Oscar’s arms and legs wrapping around his frame.
He barely had a moment to react, Oscar dropping his case and catching you just as quickly.
There were no words spoken for a while as you both let the reality set in. Your head was buried closely into the crook of Oscar’s neck, this time trying to compose yourself for a different reason. Your tears were no longer of sadness, but of overwhelming joy to have Oscar home.
“You’re not supposed to be here yet,” you laughed, pulling back and meeting Oscar’s eyes once again. “Y-you’re here early,” you commented, pressing a kiss against the tip of his nose.
Oscar nodded proudly, “we were finished and I couldn’t wait any longer, I just wanted to get back and be with you again. I’ve missed you so much, it’s been so hard being away from you this time.”
The grip that you had on Oscar was bone-crushing, filled with happiness knowing that you weren’t going to be by yourself anymore. It didn’t matter anymore where you were in the world anymore, just the fact that Oscar was back with you again was enough to make everything alright.
“How come you changed your mind? How did you convince Zac to let you come home?” You quizzed, feeling Oscar carry you across and down onto the sofa.
“I had my ways,” Oscar proudly joked, “I’m kidding, we had everything sorted so I could fly earlier. Told him that I couldn’t wait to get home any longer to my missing piece and he sent me on my way.”
You’re missing piece?”
Oscar nodded in reply to you, “of course, the one thing that was missing to make me my happiest. I had work, I was in my race car, but you weren’t there, so everything wasn’t quite fulfilled.”
“That’s cute,” you whispered.
And Oscar meant every word of it too, it was no understatement how important you were to him, and knowing that you’d been having such a tricky time of things recently only left him feeling worse whenever he had to go away.
“Please tell me you don’t have to leave now, or any time soon,” you whispered to Oscar, terrified that your moment was going to be cut short and he was going to be pulled off into another direction to complete yet another task.
“I’m all yours, I promise, I don’t plan on going anywhere for a very long time my love.”
“Good,” you smirked, cupping either side of Oscar’s face and pressing a kiss to his lips. You’d experienced the hurt, the longing, the bitterness and jealousy, but at last you were able to experience the happiness again, the relief that Oscar was back with you and he was right there to be able to take care of you.
And luckily for you, it was a job that he absolutely adored too.”
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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obaex · 8 months ago
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four - hockey player!ex!rafe cameron (pt. 1)
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summary: rafe knows he's screwed up, but when he offers you a way to make amends, you can't resist. the catch? he'll have to do the impossible.
word count: 1.8k
a/n: rafe is slightly toxic in this ngl! i am in love with this. hockey romance is very near and dear to me (this is v loosely based on a real life experience). *mwah*
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You saw your phone light up out of the corner of your eye and lowered your mascara wand as you leaned over to glance at the screen and let out a shaky sigh.
A part of you knew the right thing to do by now was to block his number. You hadn't responded to a single message he'd sent for over two weeks. And the messages had been relentless.
I'm thinking about you in the afternoons.
Hi beautiful in the mornings.
I'm sorry.
You're still my girl.
And on and on, escalating to paragraphs at night, as he typed out things he'd never once said out loud to you before; about how he felt the first time he met you, the things his teammates said, about how Wheezie was asking about you and Sarah spent an hour on the phone lecturing him, about how he'd do anything to get you back.
Reading his messages was like drinking a honied poison that went down sweet, warming every inch of you, only to make you sick in the end. But you couldn't stop. You couldn't block him. And even though you'd made him think you were ignoring him, you craved every message, every word he said something you had ached to hear when he had the chance.
Now it was two hours before the biggest game of the season, arguably one of the biggest of his career. He should be focusing on his pregame routine, on his way to the rink, if he wasn't there already and instead here he was texting you. You were the one on his mind and you drank that poison down, allowing yourself to feel special, even if the text had made no sense to you.
How many?
How many what?
His last message before that was from a couple of hours ago, before his pregame nap, the one you often took together as he had reminded you, in excruciating detail.
Your fingers twitched with the urge to reply. You knew he was baiting you into responding, but you swallowed down the urge and took a deep breath to still your beating heart and went back to applying your makeup, dragging up the same memory you did every time you were tempted by him.
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It was just after 2AM, and you were sitting in your car that you had driven to his apartment, unable to sleep, desperate to talk to him. He lounged in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead at the windshield, tracking the rain that was falling steadily.
"Can you please talk to me?" you whispered, trying so hard not to come across as needy or desperate.
"What do you want me to say?" he asked, shrugging, avoiding your eye contact.
"I don't know, just tell me what's going on with you? You barely talk to me anymore, you won't even look at me. Did I do something?"
He shrugged again and you felt physically sick. Maybe it was because you couldn't remember the last thing you'd eaten, the last time you'd slept more than a few fitful hours, all consumed with the feeling that your five-year relationship was running off the rails. Rumors were flying that there was another girl... or girls... And when you had asked him about it, he brushed it off, not strongly enough to give you even an ounce of comfort. You were falling apart. And he was letting it happen. He was forcing you to end this, too cowardly to do it himself.
"Do you even want to be with me anymore?" you whispered, barely audible over the pounding rain, like maybe if he didn't hear you, he couldn't answer.
He rubbed his hand over his face and sighed loudly, frustrated, like you were just so annoying to him, and you wished you could suck your words back into your mouth.
"I have practice in like four hours, I can't be doing this with you right now" he said, aptly avoiding the conversation again.
Your chin was wobbling and you bit back everything you wanted to say, not wanting to be needy, or nagging, hoping if you were on your very best behavior he would have a change of heart, change his mind.
You pursed your lips and nodded, averting your gaze to look out at the rain and gathering the strength you needed to say the words that felt like nails in your mouth.
"I can't do this anymore" you whimpered, as tears fell that matched the droplets on your windshield. "I can't keep giving 100% and getting nothing in return. I'm sitting here spilling my heart out to you and you won't even look at me. After everything we've been through... You won't even deny that you hooked up with her."
Silence.
You could see him grimace, the tic in his jaw as he pushed his tongue into his cheek. You wanted to grab the front of his sweatshirt, shake him and scream 'SAY SOMETHING!'. But you didn't. And his silence persisted a moment longer.
"So that's it then?" he said finally, like you had any other choice.
You wiped futilely at the tears that were now pouring down your face, even as you tried to hold them back, sniffling with a shaky breath to avoid outright sobbing in front of him.
He opened the car door, got out, slamming it forcefully behind him without so much as a glance your way and you broke down. You didn't make it one block before you had to pull over. You couldn't see, you couldn't breath, and you couldn't hold your hands steady on the wheel you were shaking so badly. You threw your car in park, lay your head on the steering wheel and cried.
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Two days passed before the first text came in.
"I'm sorry" is all it said.
You could see the bubbles at the bottom of the screen, indicating that he was still typing before more messages appeared.
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At this point you were grasping your phone with both hands, like a lifeline, eyes glued to the screen, heart hammering so hard in your chest you felt nauseous and your hands were shaking. There was a chance, a glimmer, a hope and you were clinging to it.
Your fingers hovered over your phone, ready to forgive him, to forget, to run right back to the way things had been, to have him looking for you at the end of every game, for stolen kisses in the parking lot at the arena, to whispered I love yous as you fell asleep in his arms. And then more messages came flooding in.
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More messages were coming now but you couldn't read any further. Your heart was battering around your ribcage like a pinball machine with the whiplash of information: your boyfriend of five years had been actively texting another girl... because she was easygoing, and fun to talk to and didn't stress him out… like you did.
Your tears were back like no time had passed from the night you broke up, heavy sobs coming from your mouth at how stupid you felt, at all the rumors being true. And did you really believe that nothing more had happened between them? He was Rafe fucking Cameron of the Carolina Eagles.
Your eyes skimmed over the second half of his message, about how you were it for him, about how much he loved you, how he wanted to marry you and for you to have his babies?? The ache of wanting that so desperately to be true and knowing it couldn't be was too much for you as you turned and cried into your pillow.
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You recalled all of those messages now as a new one came in. You shoved your finger into the bruise on your heart, forcing yourself to feel that pain again, to imagine him laying in bed, in the bed you had slept in with him, while he texted another girl, maybe even texted both of you at the same time, and you refocused on your makeup.
You had faithfully followed the Eagles for five years, his teammates were some of your best friends, like brothers to you. Despite everything that had happened with Rafe, you weren't going to miss their game tonight. Rafe's best friend and linemate Nick had texted you earlier in the week to let you know he had a ticket for you.
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Fine. It was hard to say no to that. Everyone you knew would be there anyway and you didn't need Rafe thinking he had power over you if you weren't there. So, you were going. And you decided if you were going to go you were going to look stunning, and as you put the finishing touches on your makeup, there was no doubt in your mind that you were.
You had spent more time on your hair and makeup than potentially every other game that season combined. You may have gotten a little comfy towards the end, wearing Rafe's team-issued sweatshirt with his name and number on it and a pair of leggings. He claimed that he loved you in that, but that wouldn't cut it tonight. You wore skintight jeans that accentuated every perfect curve of your body, heeled booties and a tight-fitting long sleeve shirt. Your hair was immaculate and your makeup was admittedly a little extra for an AHL game, but effortless nonetheless as it amplified your natural beauty. The pain in your heart had been ebbing its way into anger: you were going to make him regret every single thing he'd done, the thought nagging at you as your phone lit up again.
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You huffed. You had been strong for weeks, and now he was throwing that at you?
Your perfectly manicured fingers hovered over your phone as you nibbled your glossed bottom lip, and finally relented.
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What the hell? you thought, confused.
Feeling pretty good about your level of engagement, you sent another question mark before his response came in.
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You scoffed before laughing out loud. He was truly unbelievable. You weren't on some sort of barter system here. This wasn't a deal you had ever discussed nor agreed to. This isn't how the world worked, this isn't how relationships worked. It was stupid. So so stupid. And Rafe wasn't the team's lead goal scorer anyway. Sure he was good for a flashy goal every few games, maybe two, but this was the semi-finals of the league championship, everything was on the line here, it was not the time to be playing games...
...But damn if you didn't love the semblance of power he'd given you over the situation, and you desperately wanted to fuck with him.
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Four goals in one game. Essentially impossible. A joke. Sidney Crosby, arguably the best player in the NHL at the moment hadn't even achieved that. But not a second passed before his reply came through, simple, straightforward, no arguing or complaining:
"Done"
And then:
"I love you!"
"I'll be looking for you 😍"
You rolled your eyes, throwing your phone down on your bed, annoyed at yourself for even answering him.
And yet you couldn't fight the smallest bit of excitement you felt.
It was impossible. It was never going to happen, but Rafe Cameron was going to try to win you back.
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(part two)
taglist: @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @moremaybank, @one-sweet-gubler, @m-indkiller, @ihe4rttwd, @diary-of-jj, @crlsummer, @jjsbank444
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annewithaneofthegreengable · 6 months ago
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Prinzessin
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My masterlist
You lay back on the deck, closing your eyes as the warm sunlight bathed your skin. The gentle rocking of the boat coupled with the sound of the waves was incredibly soothing, and you felt a sense of tranquility wash over you. You took a deep breath, inhaling the salty air and feeling the tension in your body gradually dissolve. Despite the initial annoyance of waking up before Toto, you found a strange sense of peace in being alone with your thoughts, the vast expanse of the ocean acting as a natural salve for your irritation. As you continued to recline on the deck, basking in the sun, you couldn't help but marvel at the stunning beauty of your surroundings. The clear blue sky was dotted with wispy clouds, and the ocean gleamed like a sparkling gem in the sunlight. The boat rocked ever so gently, creating a gentle lulling motion that was both calming and invigorating.
The last few days spent with Toto were nothing less than perfection. When he first brought up the idea of taking you away to celebrate your recent graduate school graduation, you were completely taken back. Toto’s lifestyle and the way he chose to spoil you was something you were still acclimating to. A romantic dinner and a movie? Sure - but to be whisked away on a yacht to the middle of nowhere was something else completely. However, you couldn’t deny that it was nice to finally have some alone time together.
Between the stress of the last few weeks of classes and the Mercedes’ team finally winning two races out of the three during the triple-header, the two of you had barely been able to see each other. After some convincing, you finally agreed to a getaway with Toto for the weekend and you didn’t regret it for a second. Wining and dining you, he had spent the last few days making sure you felt like a princess. Watching the sunset together, eating 5 star meals, taking a swim in the ocean - everything felt like it was straight out of a dream. That’s not including the white hot, passionate sex that filled every other moment of your trip. Toto knew how you treat you but he knew how to treat your body even better.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approaching made your eyes flutter open, and you turned your head to see Toto's tall figure making his way towards you. You couldn’t help but giggle at his scrunched up face and wild bed head but as your eyes trailed down his torso you took your bottom lip between your teeth. He wore a turquoise pair of swim trunks and a white button up shirt that was open in the front, exposing his chiseled torso to you.
Toto's face broke into a small smile as he spotted you lying on the deck, a relaxed expression on your features. He made his way over, settling down next to you.
"You're up early," he commented, his voice laced with a hint of surprise. "Normally, I'm the morning person in the relationship." Toto’s voice was low, gravely, and made you clench your thighs together.
“You looked peaceful. I didn’t wanna bother you.” You sat up completely, pushing your sunglasses up to sit on top of your head.
You gave him a playful smirk, still feeling a bit cheeky from your previous annoyance. "Well, even early birds need their beauty sleep, Toto," you retorted, stretching lazily like a cat in the sun.
Toto chuckled, running a hand through his tousled hair. "True," he agreed, his eyes studying you for a moment. "Although, I have to admit, I was enjoying having the bed to myself for once."
You let out a small laugh, amused by his comment. "Oh, don't pretend you don't enjoy my nocturnal disturbances," you teased, giving him a nudge with your shoulder.
Toto feigned a look of mock offense. “Disturbances, huh?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Is that what we’re calling your relentless bed stealing habits now?”
You let out a mock sniff of disdain. "You're just jealous that my sleeping habits are way more efficient. While you're stuck in one position, I'm maximizing the available bed space," you teased, enjoying the banter.
Toto shook his head in amusement. "Maximizing bed space, huh? More like making it impossible for anyone to get a decent night's sleep."
“You didn’t complain much last night when I kept you up for some rather adult activities” you smirked and said. 
Toto's cheeks flushed slightly at your comment, the memory of the previous night's activities clearly not far from his mind. He cleared his throat, but a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"Well, I suppose there are some benefits to your... 'bed-stealing habits,'" he conceded, his tone slightly gravelly. 
As Toto looked over to you, the sun glinted off your neck at just the right time, exposing to him that you were wearing the diamond necklace he had gotten you. A devilish grin spread across his face as he squatted down next to you and cupped your neck in his large hand, thumb tracing over the chain of the necklace.
“Here I thought you didn’t like this necklace.” Toto stated, eyes watching as his thumb moved back and forth over the crease of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine that made him grin even more.
“I never said I didn’t like it.” Your voice was soft, barely above a whisper. The smell of his cologne clogging up your senses, making it feel as though your head was in a cloud. “Jus’ said it was too much.”
Toto's smile grew wider as he continued to toy with the necklace around your neck, noticing the effect it was having on you. He leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over your skin.
"Ah, so you do like it, hmmm?" he teased, enjoying how his touch was making you shiver. "You're just too stubborn to admit it, Prinzessin."
You let out a breathless laugh, trying to maintain your composure despite the warmth of his touch and the intoxicating scent of his cologne. "Maybe I just don't want to stroke your ego even more," you countered, giving him a mock glare.
“You can always stroke something else of mine.” He said while looking directly into your eyes, those hazel brown eyes slowly lured you into the wood or somewhere so magically. The way Toto looked at you had always made your heart skip a beat. You didn’t know it was possible for someone to have so much love and adoration in their eyes when they looked at someone. Toto always told you that you were his greatest gift in life and he made it his mission to ensure you felt that way. Although the attention, the love, the gifts, proved to be too much at times, there wasn’t anything you wouldn’t do to get that look from him for the rest of your life.
“And you’re wearing my favorite…” A single finger ran down the strap of your swimsuit top, the coldness of the finger was a stark contrast from how warm your body felt from the sun.
“Not like I had a choice. You ripped the other one yesterday.” You teased.
Toto grinned at the memory of yesterday’s escapade. The man was lucky he was rich because he had a bad habit of ripping your clothes when they didn’t come off quickly enough for his liking.
“I’ll buy you another one.” Toto quipped.
Before you had a chance to respond, he pressed his lips to yours. Almost immediately, his tongue pressed against your lips, begging for access. You could taste mint toothpaste as he swirled his tongue around yours. You sighed into the kiss, feeling your joints buckle as they typically did whenever Toto kissed you. Every kiss you shared was filled with intensity, passion, desire, and made you feel as though you were floating on air. Instead of relying on your arms to keep you upright, you wrapped your arms around his neck and tangled your hands in his messy hair. Toto grinned, going down on one knee to make sure neither of you toppled to the ground. You felt your bottom lip become trapped between his teeth as he pulled away lightly, letting it go at the end.
“I want you to lay back. Can you do that for me, Liebe?” Toto cooed.
This time it was your turn to bite your bottom lip as you nodded, obediently laying back against the deck while you kept your eyes locked to his. As soon as you settled into position, Toto’s body was over yours and you couldn’t help but run your hands along his torso.
“I love seeing you underneath me.” Toto whispered, peppering kisses along your jaw line and tracing them down the column of your throat.
As Toto's lips continue their journey down your throat, sending shivers down your spine, you can't help but arch your back in anticipation. His hands are exploring your body, making your heart race with every touch. His fingers deftly unbutton your shorts, slipping inside to caress the warm skin beneath. He kisses a trail down your sternum, his hot breath making you gasp. Reaching the waistband, he pulls your shorts and panties down in one swift motion, revealing your glistening folds.
With a low growl of desire, Toto buries his face between your thighs, his tongue lapping at your swollen clit. He devours you with a hunger that borders on feral, his fingers spreading your lips wide to grant himself deeper access.
Your back bows off the deck as his tongue plunges into your aching heat, lapping at your walls with a skill that drives you wild. He sucks your clit between his lips, rolling the sensitive bud with his tongue while his fingers curl inside you, stroking that sweet spot that makes your vision blur. With a delicate flick of his tongue, Toto teases your entrance, encouraging you to arch your hips and beg for more. He plunges deep into your wetness with a gusto that has you gripping the edge of the deck
His lips form a tight seal around your throbbing clit as he suckles greedily, his tongue darting and swirling to drive you to the brink. You're a whimpering, mewling mess beneath him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you try to pull him closer.
Toto's tongue is relentless, stroking and circling your sensitive nub with an expertise that borders on cruel. You're a quivering, sobbing mess, your thighs clenching around his head as he feasts on your arousal.
A sigh left your lips once more as you threaded your fingers back into his chestnut hair. It felt as though every hair on your body stood up straight as Toto flickering his eyes up to meet yours, Toto leaned forward and slow up the pace. Your head fell back with a whine as your hips involuntarily jutted toward his mouth.
"Please, Toto, more.." you gasp, your hips bucking against his mouth as he ramp up the intensity. His purring vibrates against your clit, it served you so well right now.
“Oh god.” You groaned, arching your back and pushing your cunt further into his face.
Toto's tongue flickers over your clit, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your body. Your toes are curling and your legs start to shake uncontrollably as he pushes you over the edge. He pulled back slightly and gathered your folds between his fingers and squeezed them together.
“Such a pretty pussy, Prinzessin. Love seeing the way it’s dripping for me.”
Immediately he was diving back in, letting go of your folds to hold your legs back in place. The obscene slurping noises coming from between your legs had you moaning in pleasure. The feeling of his tongue prodding at your entrance made your hands fly to his hair and your legs lock over his back.
“Go on, Liebe. Use me. Fuck yourself on my tongue.” Toto mumbled, sticking his tongue out and allowing you to rock your core over it.
“Shit, shit, shit. Oh fuck, Toto, I’m-I’m gonna cum.” You squealed, increasing the speed at which you ground yourself against him.
Just like that, you felt the white hot pleasure of your orgasm rip through you, legs shaking slightly as you clenched your thighs around his head. Instead of pulling away, Toto doubled down and dug his fingers into your hips as he pushed his face further into your core. He lapped up your orgasm like he was put on this earth to do so.
The sensitivity from your last orgasm made you jerk away from him, but Toto had no intentions of letting you go.
“Come on, Schatzi. Give me one more, I know you got one more for me.”
Toto pulled back and quickly replaced his tongue with his middle and ring finger, curling them upwards as he thrusted them. At the same time he snaked his hand over the front of your swimsuit top and yanked your breasts free, making sure to pinch and tug on your nipples as he continued his rough pace.
There was no holding back the scream that erupted from your chest as you came for the second time. The orgasm that ripped through you was one that was so intense you could swear your eyes rolled all the way back into your head. Toto placed light kisses over your mound as you came down from your high.
“Good job, Schatzi. You did so good for me.”
Your eyes fluttered open slowly as Toto crawled back over you, grinning at your fucked out state. His nose traced the curve of your jaw as he waited for you to come back to. Licking your lips you pushed on his chest, signaling for him to let you up. As he sat up you followed him, only to push him down to the floor. Toto grinned at you proudly.
“Schatzi you know you don’t have to—“ Toto’s sentence was cut short with a low groan as you ran your hand over the length of him through his shorts.
Quickly ridding him of his swim trunks you took the length of him into your hand and pumped up and down a few times. You’d become wholly familiar with his anatomy in the time you’d been dating, but each time you saw his cock always felt like the first. Toto groaned, lips slightly parted as he looked down at you. Maintaining that eye contact, you leaned in and swirled your tongue around the head.
“Fffuck.” Toto breathed, gathering your hair at the top of your head so he wouldn’t miss a single view of you wrapped around his cock.
Moving down toward the bottom, you licked a stripe up the underside of his cock before taking as much of him in your mouth as you were able. Toto grunted loudly, doing his best to keep his hips from bucking up into your mouth.
“Jesus Christ. You feel so good, Liebe.” Toto praised.
You looked up at him from under your lashes as you continued to suck his cock. The blissed out look on his face made your core throb. There was something about the way you made him feel so good that you absolutely adored. You took your time, taking as much of him as you could as slowly as you could. Other men you were with liked their head messy and fast, but Toto always commented on how much he loved the way you took your time with him.
Pulling away, you continued to stroke him with your hand as you moved down to take his balls into your mouth and suck on them gently. As you began to do so, you felt his cock jump in your hand and a grin spread across your face.
“Fuck, Liebe, stop, stop.” Toto grabbed you and pulled you up.
Crashing his lips to yours, the kiss was needy and messy. Toto held your face tightly in his hands as you scrambled onto his lap. You pushed the shirt off his shoulders and Toto shrugged it off, pulling away to look at you.
“God, you’re gonna be the death of me one day, Schatzi. You make me feel so fuckin’ good.”
Positioning yourself over him, you sank down slowly on to his cock. The stretch was something you still hadn’t gotten used to, but god did it feel incredible. Each and every time you wondered how it was possible to feel so full. Toto grabbed your face and pulled you into another kiss as you allowed yourself to get used to him. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you pulled away from the kiss.
“Please move, Toto.” You panted.
Toto’s hands found their way to your hips as he slowly started to help you move back and forth. A long groan came from you as you leaned your head back. Toto took the opportunity to nibble gently on your pulse point. The rock of your hips back and forth had his pelvis hitting your clit each time, causing a surge of pleasure to shoot through your body.
“More, I need more.” You moaned out.
Toto wrapped his arm around your waist as he flipped you onto your back. The moment your back hit the floor, his pace increased tremendously. The lewd sound of slapping skin filled the area and you were grateful you were out in the middle of nowhere.
“You were fuckin’ made for me weren’t you, Schatzi? Goddamnit, you fit me like a fucking glove.” Toto growled, pushing your leg back even further so he could drill into you at a different angle.
You wrapped your hands around his forearm as he held on to your hip. The drag of his cock against your velvety walls had your eyes rolling into the back of your head once more. The hand that rested on your hip moved to rest on your lower abdomen right above your pelvis as he continued to piston in and out of you.
The movement only made the pressure in your abdomen increase tenfold and you could feel yourself starting to clench around him involuntarily.
“P-please, I-“
“You need to cum, hmm? My pretty girl gonna cum?”
“Please!” You yelled out as he snapped his hips particularly rough into you.
Toto placed both hands on your hips as he lifted you slightly off the ground, pounding into you with all he had. As he did so you reached your hand down your front and rubbed your clit in fast circles.
“Oh fuck, yeah. Rub your clit Liebe. Cmon, cum for me.”
After a few more snaps of his hips you felt yourself tensing up, toes curling as your third orgasm washed over you. This time your legs were shaking visibly and you groaned loudly.
“So fuckin pretty when you cum, Schatzi. Fuck.”
It was obvious that Toto was close. You could feel him twitch inside of you as well as the way his hips were beginning to falter.
“Want you to cum in me, Liebe. Wanna feel you cum in me.” You whimpered up at him.
“Fucking Christ!” Toto fell forward, hands on either side of you as he shoved his hips forward, painting your walls with his spend.
Toto remained leaning over you, pressing his forehead to yours as you moaned in tandem. Breathing in each other’s breath, you reached up and cupped his cheek. Toto wrapped his fingers around your wrist and turned his head to press a kiss to your palm, biting down on the flesh of your hand slightly. You giggled, watching him grin at your noise.
Toto pulled away from you, using the towel you had been sunbathing with to help clean you up. Toto laid down against the deck and you curled up against him, pressing a kiss to his chest as you tangled your leg with his. He stroked your hair with his hand as he pressed a kiss to your crown.
“Yeah,” he started, twirling your hair around his finger, “I’d say you deserve the moon.”
You laughed, hitting his chest for his dumb joke. Toto chuckled, taking your hand in his and lifting it up to his lips for a kiss.
“I love you, Schatzi. And I’m so proud of you.”
You could feel your heart swell at his words. Whenever you were with Toto, all you felt was love.
“I love you too, Toto. Thank you, for everything.”
The two of you remained tangled in one another while you regained your strength. The boat was quiet, the soft crashing of the waves once again soothing your senses as you let your eyes closed.
“So…” Toto’s voice brings you back to reality, “how about a round two?”
551 notes · View notes
allgoodnamesrgoneee · 2 months ago
Note
Hi i have a jude bellingham request. Shy introverted reader that is scared of social interactions, who starts pulling back from jude after a bad event and he comforts her. Some angst mixed with fluff pls(u can add some smut if u want to idrc) thankss🫶🏾
Insecure
Masterlist
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — You're insecure and he reassures you.
𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Jude Bellingham x You
𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 6.8k
Warnings! Angst (but only a little bit for the plot), FLUFF!! Jude being the best boyfriend, NSFW! SMUT (18+), oral sex (f receiving), sweet love making, protected sex (for once),
The notifications on your phone felt relentless.
Each buzz, each ping, eating away at your self-esteem.
It had all started a couple of weeks ago when Jude invited you to a gala. You hadn't thought much of it—an evening spent in a sleek gown by his side, pretending to enjoy the swirling champagne and over-polished conversations.
Jude had introduced you to a few people, his arm around your waist the entire night. For a moment, you'd felt like you belonged.
Until now.
You had only taken a few seconds to scroll through the comments, the ones you could bear to look at before your fingers began to tremble and your throat tightened. The first one caught your eye, cruel and biting, its words harsh and unforgiving.
"How did he end up with her? She’s so basic. 🙄"
The words stung, a visceral ache, but you read on.
"Girl’s shaped like a fridge and dating a star. Make it make sense. 🥴"
You should’ve closed the app, should’ve thrown the phone across the room, should’ve stopped. But you couldn’t. You needed to know, needed to see, needed to feel the weight of it all like a punch to the gut that you couldn’t escape.
The comments piled up, each more venomous than the last, each one cutting deeper than you thought possible.
"Bet she’s just in it for the fame. 🚩"
"Wow, he downgraded HARD. Can’t believe this. 😂"
You felt the familiar sting in your chest, the way your breath caught in your throat as you read them. Each word a dagger, each sentence an echo of your worst insecurities.
"Imagine thinking you’re hot enough to date him with that body. 🤡"
"If I had her face, I’d be embarrassed to leave the house, let alone post. 😬"
You couldn’t breathe now. The phone felt like a weight, pulling you down as you sank further into the dark hole of self-doubt that had always been there, lurking, waiting for the perfect moment to pull you under.
"Pathetic."
You felt the tears before they came, hot and salty on your cheeks. You hated this. Hated what people were saying. Hated how it made you feel. Hated that you'd thought it was a good idea to scroll in the first place.
And hated even more that Jude would see.
The tears fell faster now, and you couldn't do anything to stop it.
You tried to wipe them away, but they just kept coming, never-ending like the messages on your phone. Each drop a reminder of how small you felt, how unworthy you were. Your chest tightened with the kind of suffocating shame you hadn’t known since high school.
Your thumb hovered over the screen, ready to block the app, to retreat, to hide. But the instinct was stronger. You wanted to see more. You wanted to know if the cruelty would ever end, or if you were doomed to be the punchline of a joke you hadn’t asked to be part of.
But what if they were right? What if he did downgrade? What if you were just a blip in his life, a temporary distraction until someone else, someone better, came along?
The thought gnawed at you, whispering its doubts until you weren’t sure which way was up anymore.
You did the only thing you knew to do.
You deleted the app, and anything related to it from your phone. It wasn’t the bravest move, but it was better than reading the same comments over and over again. Because at the end of the day that's what you were.
A coward.
The next few days went by in a blur.
You barely remembered them.
The world outside felt muffled, distant, as if everything was happening on the other side of a thick glass wall. You went through the motions—work, meals, sleep—but there was a hollowness to it, an absence where joy should’ve been. The phone sat untouched, the social media apps gone, erased from your life like they never existed.
And you were ignoring Jude.
The calls, the texts, the messages. All ignored. You didn't know how to face him and the possiblity of those comments being true.
He had never once made you feel bad about yourself, but the fear remained, eating at you like a living, breathing thing.
If you could just stay away, stay quiet, he'd never know. And you'd be able to save face.
The phone buzzed again, shrill against the quiet of your apartment. You ignored it. It buzzed again. And again.
When it stopped, you let out a sigh of relief that was short-lived. It started ringing. Loud. Insistent.
You knew who it was before you even saw his name across the screen.
You hesitated, the phone in your hand feeling like a live wire. You could almost hear his voice through the screen, warm and persistent, the kind that always made you feel safe. But now? Now, all you could hear were the words from those comments, echoing in your mind. You’re not good enough for him. You’re just a placeholder, a filler for when someone better comes along.
The ringing continued, each ring a painful reminder that you were avoiding the one person who could make this all better. But he’ll know, you thought, he’ll see how weak I am, how fragile this all really is.
With a deep, shaky breath, you answered.
“Hello?”
There was a pause. A soft, hesitant exhale from his side. “Hey. I… I’ve been trying to reach you. What’s going on? You’ve been distant, and I’m—” His voice wavered, the worry clear even through the brief exchange. “You okay?”
You swallowed, but the lump in your throat refused to go down. “I’m fine,” you lied, your voice cracking at the seams. “Just… been busy. Lots of stuff to catch up on.”
Another silence. This time, it wasn’t filled with the usual comfortable hum of him shifting in his seat. It felt different. Weighted.
“Baby, you know I love you right?” Jude asked quietly, as though he could hear the lie even through the distance. “You know you can talk to me—right?” His voice softened even more.
You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, your hands shaking now, fingers pressing tightly to the screen. He knows. He had to.
“I just… I’m not feeling great. That’s all. I’ll be fine. Really.” You couldn’t look at the screen. You couldn’t face him.
"Sweetheart, isten to me," Jude said, his tone firm but gentle. "You're not going to lie to me, and you're certainly not going to avoid me." He paused. "If something's wrong, then you're going to tell me and we're going to get through it together." He was quiet for a second before he spoke again. "Now. Let's try this again. Are you okay?"
The tears were back now, hot and biting as they fell. “I can’t do this, Jude,” you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady even as the sobs started.
“Can’t do what?” Jude’s voice rose. His worry was palpable now. “What happened? Tell me.”
But you couldn’t tell him, couldn’t risk it. You weren’t sure you could even say the words out loud. What would he think of you then?
“Maybe this was a mistake, Jude. Maybe we should just stop.”
Another pause. “Stop what?”
“Us.” You had to swallow before you could continue. “I think it’s best if we stop.”
The words hung in the air like smoke, thick and suffocating. The weight of them, the finality, nearly crushed you. You stared at the screen, willing yourself to breathe, to not let the panic rise higher than it already had. Maybe this is better, you thought, but the thought felt hollow, empty, like you were lying to yourself.
Jude’s silence on the other end of the line felt like an eternity. It stretched out, each passing second pulling you deeper into your own spiraling thoughts, drowning in the fear that this was the end, that you'd finally done it. You’d ruined everything.
Finally, his voice cut through the tension, soft, almost broken. “Are you… are you serious right now?”
You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Yeah,” you whispered, “I’m serious.”
The phone trembled in your hand, as if it, too, was unsure of what to do next. It was as if the world had tilted, your stomach twisting in knots. You had never wanted this. Not really. But the fear, the shame, the constant feeling of inadequacy—it was too much. And maybe, just maybe, walking away from him would spare you from the pain of having him see who you really were, of letting him down.
“Baby,” Jude breathed, his voice thick with disbelief, “what happened? What’s going on in that head of yours?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. You wanted to explain, wanted to tell him everything—the comments, the hurt, the way they ate away at you, leaving you raw. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t find the words. Not when you felt so small, so insignificant, like the version of you he deserved was locked behind a wall you couldn’t break down.
“You deserve better than me,” you finally choked out, your voice barely audible. The words tasted bitter on your tongue, but it felt like the only truth left. “I’m not good enough for you.” The tears fell faster now. You couldn’t stop them. You didn’t want to. The ache in your chest swelled, filling you until there was nothing left but the echoes of those cruel, cruel words. “They were right. I’m not good enough.”
For the first time in a long while, Jude’s response wasn’t immediate. But when it finally came, it felt like a gentle breeze against your flushed skin, soft and warm. “Is this about the articles? The ones from the gala?”
You didn’t respond. You didn’t have to.
“I see,” Jude said quietly, the words coming slow as he processed. “Well, let me tell you something.”
He paused as though collecting his thoughts, as if he needed to be sure of what he wanted to say. “First of all, there’s no one better than you. Not one.” His voice deepened with conviction. “Every person at that gala would’ve killed to be in my place that night. Every one of them wanted to be you, sweetheart.”
You wanted to laugh. To scoff. How could he say that? How could he even believe it? But a small voice in your head reminded you that Jude wasn't one to lie, that he had always been honest with you. It whispered that maybe, just maybe, he could be telling the truth. But you didn’t dare believe it. Not yet.
“And second,” Jude continued, “You have to be stupid to think for one moment that you're anything less than amazing.”
The words washed over you like a wave, gentle at first but growing, pulling you under before you could catch your breath. You felt the weight of them settle in your chest, and for a split second, the storm inside your head stilled.
But only for a moment.
“You think you're just some filler in my life?” Jude’s voice was quieter now, but there was a rawness to it, a crack that betrayed the calm exterior. “But I’m here to tell you—you’re not. You’re everything I want. And I’m not going anywhere.”
The finality in his voice, the quiet intensity, almost broke you. Everything I want.
How could he say that? How could he be so sure ?
You couldn't help it. The fear, the doubt, it all spilled out, the words a jumbled mess of tears and desperation. “But what if you realize I'm not the one? That you can do better ?” Your voice trembled as you spoke, but you couldn’t help it.
Jude was silent for a long time. You could almost feel the frustration that radiated from the other end of the call. You could feel him wanting to reach through and grab you. “Listen to me,” he said, his voice rough but gentle, “you are mine. That’s not going to change.”
“How can you be so sure?” The words came out of their own volition, as if your brain and your mouth were on different wavelengths. You wanted to take them back the moment you heard them, but it was too late.
“Because,” Jude murmured, his voice softening again, almost too gentle. “Because I love you, and that’s never going to change. I don’t care what they say about you. You’re my person. And I don’t want to lose you to the lies in your head.”
And there it was, the thing you’d been trying to run from—the thing you were terrified to hear. Love. The word felt so foreign, so big, and yet, in that moment, it felt like the only thing that could make everything right.
“I don’t want to lose you either,” you whispered, a single tear slipping down your cheek. It wasn’t from sadness anymore.
It was from something more vulnerable, something raw and tender that you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel in so long. The possibility of being loved, of being seen—not for how you measured up to anyone else, but for who you were.
“Then don’t push me away,” Jude said, a quiet plea in his voice. “Let me in, okay? Let me help you. Let me love you.”
You inhaled shakily, the walls in your chest crumbling just a little.
You wanted to say yes. You wanted to let him in, to trust him the way he trusted you.
But the fear that clung to you like a second skin, made it hard to even breathe, let alone surrender.
You thought you were protecting yourself by keeping him at arm's length, by pushing him away, but now, his words—his steady, unwavering belief in you—began to crack the walls you’d built around your heart.
“I don’t know how to stop being scared,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The admission felt like an exhale you hadn’t realized you’d been holding for years.
Jude’s response was immediate, his voice tender and full of understanding. “You don’t have to stop being scared, love. You just have to let me be there with you through it.” His words were quiet but firm, something unbreakable. Loving. “You don’t have to do this alone. I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”
A small sob broke through you then, uncontrollable and raw.
The tightness in your chest, the constant ache, the never-ending flood of doubt—it all spilled out in that single moment, like the dam finally giving way to everything you had been holding back. You hadn’t realized how badly you needed to hear those words until now. How much you needed him to hold you through this mess inside your head.
“I’m sorry,” you choked out, your voice shaking. “I’m so sorry for pushing you away. For being so… so scared.”
Jude’s tone softened, his voice a balm to your raw nerves. “No need to apologize, babe. You don’t owe me an apology for feeling the way you do. Just… don’t shut me out again. Okay?”
You nodded, though you knew he couldn’t see you. The weight of his words hung in the air, pressing against the tightness in your chest, but for the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to feel a flicker of hope.
The terror that had ruled your every step began to loosen its grip, if only a little, as Jude’s quiet insistence filled the spaces where your insecurities once roamed.
"Okay," you whispered, your voice trembling but steady. "Okay."
"Good. Now, can I come over? I want to see you. I miss you, baby." His voice was soft, like he was whispering a secret that only the two of you could know. His words made you feel safe, seen, loved.
"Yes." It felt like a sentencing. But one you would subject yourself to everday if it meant you would have him by your side.
“I’ll see you soon, then?” Jude asked, a hopeful edge to his voice.
“Yeah,” you said, feeling a slow, tentative smile tug at the corners of your lips. “Soon.”
*********
You were in your room when you heard the knock on the door. You stood, your heart quickening. It felt as though hours had passed since the call, but in reality, it had only been 20 minutes.
You opened the door slowly, and Jude was already there, his eyes locked on you as you stepped out into the hallway.
He moved first, his footsteps sure as he crossed the distance between you. He didn’t hesitate before he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest.
The hug was tight, almost fierce. “I missed you,” he whispered against your hair. His words were a little shaky, as if he’d been holding it in for so long.
You felt yourself melt against him, allowing yourself to be held for the first time since this had all started.
His arms were warm, safe, and for the first time in weeks, you felt like you could breathe again.
“I missed you, too,” you murmured into his neck.
You stood there for what felt like forever, the two of you holding onto each other like your lives depended on it. You felt him press a kiss against the top of your head. The touch was gentle, loving, and your eyes fell shut as you absorbed it, the warmth seeping into your chest.
Jude held you like he would never let you go. You didn’t want him to. You needed the safety he brought, the shelter of his arms.
Jude had never been your crutch before, but in this moment, you felt so helpless, so broken, that you weren’t sure you could stand without him.
He didn’t let go of you. Not once.
His hands stroked up and down your back, his lips pressing kisses along your hairline, his arms holding you close like he didn’t want you to go. The only sound was his breathing and your own heart pounding in your chest. You didn’t know what the future held, but in this moment you were content to just hold onto him and have him hold onto you.
You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, standing in the doorway of your room, but it felt like time had slowed down, just for the two of you.
You weren’t sure when you stopped holding back, when you finally allowed the tears to spill over. Maybe it was the feeling of his hands gently cradling your face, or maybe it was the quiet understanding in his eyes when you pulled away just enough to look at him.
Jude cupped your face in his hands, his thumb brushing away the tears you hadn’t even realized had fallen. His gaze was unwavering, full of love and something else—a quiet sadness, a longing to reach you, to help you see what he saw.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice low, almost a plea. “You’re beautiful and lovely and perfect just the way you are. You’re mine and I love you. You’re my beautiful girl, and you always will be.” He pressed a kiss against your forehead, the softness of his lips dragging across your skin. It was warm, gentle, comforting.
Jude lifted his head, his eyes locking on yours again. His fingers were still curled around your face, and he moved slowly, his lips tracing over your skin, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. He pressed a soft, sweet kiss against your lips, and you felt your heart flutter in your chest.
You couldn’t look away from him. His eyes were dark, his pupils blown wide as he stared at you, his expression full of emotion and need. Your heart tripped, stumbling as your own need swamped you.
He pressed another kiss to your lips, this one light, almost reverent. You shivered as his hands stroked over the back of your neck, his fingertips tracing along your shoulders and down your arms. He moved slowly, each touch a promise of love, of passion, of want.
You felt your legs tremble at his touch, and Jude was there immediately, his arms coming around you and holding you up. He pulled you against him again, his face buried in the crook of your neck.
“Let me show you,” he murmured against your skin. His hands moved over you, dragging up your back and back down, "Let me show you how beautiful you are." They dropped to your ass, his fingers curling around it as he pulled you into him, grinding slightly against you.
Your body reacted on instinct, arching into him. He groaned, the sound vibrating against your neck.
"Please, baby girl," he whispered, the words a prayer. "Please." He pressed kisses against your throat as you lifted your head to look at him. His eyes held yours, pupils blown with desire and need. "Please, let me show you what I see every time I see you."
You swallowed, your heart pounding in your ears as you stared back at him. You saw the truth in his eyes, and for the first time, you let yourself truly believe it. You were perfect to him, just the way you were.
You nodded, and a soft smile spread over his face before he dropped his head to kiss you again. This time, there was more passion in his kiss, more emotion. He kissed you like you were the only thing he wanted or needed. He kissed you until you couldn’t breathe, until you were trembling against him, your arms wrapped around him and your fingers tangled in his coily hair.
He pulled away, a breath of air between your lips. He was breathing hard, his eyes wide with the same need that burned in yours.
"Bedroom," he whispered, and you nodded.
He followed you to your room, closing the door behind him and pulling you into his arms again. The kiss you shared was longer, hotter, more intense as you reached between you and started to undo his belt.
"Wait, baby…Hold on."
You pulled back, your brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"
He smiled, his expression soft, loving, and he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. "This is about you, baby, not me. I want to see you." He leaned in to kiss you again, soft and gentle, and you felt yourself melt under his hands.
He kissed you for little longer before pulling away again. He gently tugged on your hands, guiding you to the bed and pushing you down to sit on the edge.
He moved to his knees between your legs, spreading them as he went. The light from the window shone down on you, and he stared up at you for long moments, his eyes roaming over your face and neck. He touched you as if he was memorizing you—your skin, your eyes, your lips.
He leaned in and kissed the skin just beneath your collarbone, and your breath caught. You felt a shiver work over your skin as he kissed down to the top of your breasts.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered against your cleavage, "Perfect, gorgeous…beautiful, beautiful girl." He trailed kisses across your chest, moving back up to kiss your lips again. "I love you so much, baby," he said between kisses, and then his mouth moved back down.
"Can I?" His fingers drifted over the top of your shirt and you nodded. He smiled softly, his lips moving over your skin. "Good girl," he breathed, and the sound of his voice was like a caress over your skin.
You watched, wide-eyed, as he undid the buttons of your shirt and slipped it off. The top of your bra was visible, and his hands drifted down to cup you through the fabric. He squeezed lightly, groaning when he felt your nipples harden through the fabric of your bra. You could feel his eyes on you, could see the heat in them.
"Look at you," he murmured, "So beautiful…" He moved to slide the straps down your arms, his mouth moving down your skin to kiss between your breasts, his tongue flicking out to taste you. Your hands found their way into his hair and you tugged him closer, sighing when he sucked one of your nipples between his lips. His tongue swirled over it through the fabric of your bra and your hips jerked.
His hand slid around to unhook your bra, and he looked up at you as he slipped it off. "Oh, baby…" He leaned down to kiss the side of your breast, his breath hot and full of promise. "God, you're perfect."
He kissed over your breasts, sucking your nipples into his mouth and swirling his tongue over them. You arched up under him, your head dropping back, and he moaned.
"Fuck, baby…" His hands slid down your sides to your jeans, and he popped the button. "These look good on you," he whispered, "but I want you naked." His hands moved to zip open your jeans, and you watched as he stripped you.
He stared down at you, a look of pure lust on his face. Your skin flushed at his perusal and you fought the urge to cover yourself.
He kissed over your stomach, his lips moving up to your chest and then to your mouth. "God, baby, you're beautiful," he breathed against your lips before kissing you again.
His hands found their way between your legs and he groaned when he felt how wet you were. His fingers rubbed over your clit through your panties, and you sighed. He leaned back to kiss your inner thigh, his lips pressing open mouthed kisses on your skin.
"All mine," he whispered as he dropped more kisses on your thigh. "Right, baby?" He kissed closer and closer to your pussy, his hands moving to the waistband of your panties. He hooked his fingers under the fabric and tugged them off.
"I'm all yours," you gasped as he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh. "All yours."
His hand moved between your legs, his finger circling your clit. "yeah, that's right" he breathed. A cry fell from your lips and you dropped your head back, arching up into him. His arms came around your thighs, holding you open as his mouth dropped down to kiss you.
You shuddered at the first touch of his mouth. His tongue was hot, wet, and perfect as it licked over your clit, flicking over the little bundle of nerves. You sighed, dropping your hands into his hair, and he groaned against you. His tongue pressed harder against you, circling faster and you could feel the pressure building inside you already.
"Jude," you gasped, "Oh, god…"
He growled against you, the vibrations of his voice making your legs quiver. He pulled back and you felt his breath on your wet pussy before his tongue was back on your clit.
"Please," you whispered, "Please, Jude…"
He licked faster, his tongue pressing harder against you. You could feel the building pressure rising higher and you gasped.
"Fuck," he muttered, his lips moving back to press kisses against your inner thighs. "Fuck, you taste so fucking good." His mouth dropped back down to your pussy and his tongue stabbed into you, and you felt the first wave of your orgasm roll through you.
You cried out, arching against his mouth as he licked through your orgasm. He didn't stop, his tongue moving over and around your clit, teasing you towards another.
You screamed as the second wave hit you, harder than the first. Your legs jerked, trembling under him. He held you open, his mouth moving over you. He licked and sucked, teasing you through your orgasm.
When you could finally breathe again, your legs trembling under you, he pulled back. He kissed your inner thighs again, smiling as you gasped and shivered under him.
He moved back to his knees, his hands still holding you open. "You're so fucking gorgeous," he said as he looked down at you. His hand moved down between your legs again, his fingers slipping inside you. He pumped slowly, his thumb moving over your clit, and you fell back with a gasp.
"Baby…" You tugged his hair gently, watching as he stared down at your pussy. His mouth dropped open and he groaned. "Such a tight little pussy," he panted, "All for me…" He leaned forward, his tongue dragging over your clit. His hand worked faster, pumping two fingers into you and he sucked your clit between his lips.
You screamed, your entire body shaking as you fell over the edge again. His name fell from your lips as his tongue licked and his fingers thrust into you, teasing the orgasm out of you.
You collapsed back onto the bed with a sigh, feeling boneless and sated. You smiled lazily at him, watching as he pulled his fingers from your pussy and brought them to his mouth.
"Fuck, you taste good," he murmured, sucking his fingers clean. "God, I need you, baby." He tugged his t-shirt off, dropping it on the floor beside your jeans. His eyes stayed on you as he unzipped his pants.
He pulled his boxers and jeans off in one go, kicking them off to join the rest of your clothes. You couldn't help but stare at him. His body was beautiful, all lean muscle and sharp edges. His cock jutted up from between his legs, hard and leaking for you. Your eyes were glued to it and you licked your lips.
Jude groaned and moved over you, his cock brushing against your thigh as he kissed you. You wrapped your arms around him, tugging him closer to you. He dropped his weight onto you, his hips grinding against you. You sighed into the kiss, your tongue tangling with his.
"You got condoms in here?" he mumbled against your lips, "Because I really, really want to fuck you right now."
You gasped, your mouth dropping open in pleasure. "Uh… Yeah?" You shook your head, clearing the lust-induced haze from your mind. "In my dresser…" You nodded towards the dresser and he got up, moving to it.
He came back to you, condom in hand and a smile on his face. "God," he groaned, "You're so sexy…" He tossed the condom on the bed beside you and leaned over you. "Spread your legs for me."
You nod shyly, spreading your legs wide. He dropped down between them, his mouth kissing your inner thighs. You shivered, sighing as he moved closer. His mouth dropped to your pussy, his tongue licking over you and his finger playing with your clit. He looked up at you, grinning as he watched your face.
"God, you're so sensitive," he muttered as you shivered and sighed under him. His tongue dragged over your pussy and he pressed a finger into you, groaning. "Fuck, I need to be inside you now."
He stood, towering over you with an intensity that made your breath hitch, his fingers working to tear the condom wrapper open. The sound was sharp, a deliberate break in the tension that hung thick in the air.
Your eyes drifted down, drawn to the sight of his cock—hard, proud, and already slick from his arousal. Your lips parted instinctively, tongue darting out to wet them as you watched him roll the condom down.
Every movement of his hand, every deliberate stroke as he adjusted it, felt like a tease meant solely for your eyes.
He let out a low growl, almost inaudible, as he gave himself one last firm stroke. His gaze locked with yours, dark and full of need, before he shifted forward, positioning himself between your legs.
His hands found your thighs, fingers digging into your soft skin as he spread you wider beneath him. You gasped softly at the sensation, a shiver of anticipation rushing through you when you felt the blunt heat of him pressing against your entrance.
“Jude…” you murmured, his name a breathless plea that you couldn’t hold back.
His head dipped lower, his lips brushing your ear as he let out a strained groan. “You ready for me, baby?” he asked, his voice rough, thick with the effort it took to hold himself back.
You nodded, your chest heaving as your heart pounded like a drumbeat. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice shaky but sure. “I’m ready.”
His lips curled into a mischievous grin, though his eyes burned with intensity. “Good,” he rasped, his tone laced with both promise and intent. “Now I’m gonna show you just how much I love you—since words don’t seem to be enough for you.” His grin widened, cocky and devastatingly sexy, as his hands slid beneath your thighs. With a fluid, effortless motion, he lifted you, pulling your hips up to meet him.
You gasped again, louder this time, as he pressed forward. The first inch of him slid inside, the stretch slow and deliberate. He groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your skin. “Oh, fuck,” he hissed, pausing for a moment to savor the sensation. “Your tight little pussy is gonna squeeze the cum right outta me…”
Your head fell back, eyes fluttering shut as you adjusted to him, the delicious burn and fullness making you shiver. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, pulling him deeper, urging him on. “Jude,” you sighed, his name rolling off your tongue like a prayer, filled with pleasure and longing.
He growled at your response, his hips rocking forward slowly, inch by inch, until he was fully seated inside you. His forehead rested against yours for a moment, his breaths coming out in ragged bursts. “Fuck, yeah,” he groaned, his voice heavy with satisfaction. He began to move, his hips grinding in a slow, deliberate rhythm. “Goddamn, your pussy feels so good…”
Your nails dug into his shoulders, the pleasure blooming between your legs as his cock filled you perfectly. Every thrust sent a shockwave of heat through your body, leaving you gasping and moaning beneath him.
It was like nothing you’d ever experienced before—your soul, your body, every part of you was being worshipped and driven higher with each stroke.
His lips traced over your neck, his teeth raking over your skin and sending shivers down your spine. His hands clutched you tighter, holding you firm against him as his body began to move faster. His thrusts lost their slow, deliberate rhythm, his need and hunger taking hold.
“Fuck, baby…” His voice was almost a growl, the words slipping through his lips on gasps of air. “So fucking perfect…” You felt your walls clamp down around him and he groaned louder, his hips slamming into you harder and faster. “Oh god, baby,” he moaned, “Oh fuck, yes…” His hands slid under your ass, tugging you up into his thrusts and sending his cock deeper inside you. “God, fuck, you’re gonna make me come so hard…”
You nodded, unable to form words with the pleasure overwhelming you, but you knew. You felt it too, the heat and pressure building inside you like a storm.
His hips snapped forward faster, pounding into you with a brutal intensity that had your legs shaking and your body trembling. His moans and gasps matched yours, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he fucked you.
"Jude…" you gasped his name, your voice trembling and barely audible as the first wave of pleasure surged through your body. Your nails raked across his back, leaving faint trails as if you were desperately trying to ground yourself in the overwhelming sensation. Your thighs quivered uncontrollably around his hips, your breaths coming in shallow, broken sobs. “Oh… oh God…”
“Fuck,” he growled, his voice rough and ragged, dripping with unrestrained desire. “Fuck yeah, baby…” His thrusts grew more forceful, more insistent, driving you higher and higher until your body felt like it might shatter from the intensity.
His hand slid between your bodies with practiced precision, his thumb finding the swollen bundle of nerves that sent shockwaves of pleasure tearing through you.
When he flicked over your clit, you cried out, your voice raw and filled with pure ecstasy. The sensation raced through you like a bolt of lightning, electrifying every inch of your skin and leaving you utterly undone.
“Oh fuck,” he groaned, his lips brushing against your ear as his hips pounded into you relentlessly. “I can feel your pussy squeezing my cock… Jesus, you’re so fucking tight… so perfect… oh fuck…”
His rhythm becoming harder, faster, and more erratic as he teetered on the edge. His muscles tightened beneath you, every sinew in his body straining as he chased his release. The throbbing of his cock deep inside you was almost enough to push you over the edge again, and you whimpered, your body still convulsing with the aftershocks of your own climax.
“Fuck, baby,” he growled, his voice hoarse and guttural as he surrendered too. His thrusts faltered, each movement now slower but no less intense as he came, filling you with a warmth that made your breath hitch. “Oh… fuck…”
Jude’s weight pressed against you as he collapsed, his body heavy yet comforting as his arms enveloped you. He held you close, his chest rising and falling against yours as his cock pulsed one final time within you.
Your head fell back against the soft pillows, your lips parting as you fought to catch your breath. The room now filled with the warm, intimate haze of the moment, charged with the aftermath of passion. Your heart raced as a satisfied smile ghosted across your lips, your mind a swirling storm of euphoria and peace. Every inch of you felt alive, buzzing with the warmth of his touch.
He nestled his face into the crook of your neck, his breath warm and steady against your skin as he pressed a trail of soft, lingering kisses. The tenderness of his lips sent shivers down your spine.
“I love you, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with emotion, the words slipping out like a sacred vow against your ear. His fingers lightly traced circles on your hip, grounding you. “I love you so goddamn much.”
A lump formed in your throat, your heart swelling at his words. No matter how many times he told you, you would never get used to hearing those words. “I love you too,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you turned your head to meet his gaze. You reached up to press a soft kiss to his forehead, the gesture tender and intimate, a silent reassurance of your feelings. “Thank you for coming over…”
His lips curved into a smile, soft but full of affection. “Anytime, baby,” he promised without hesitation, his voice steady, sincere. “I’ll always be there for you.” The words weren’t just said—they were a declaration, a vow.
He rolled away reluctantly, leaving the warmth of your embrace to take care of the practicalities, disposing of the condom before returning with a warm, damp cloth. His movements were gentle, careful, as he cleaned you up, his touch never wavering in its tenderness. When he was done, he slid back into bed, pulling the covers over both of you as he gathered you into his arms, holding you close like you were the most precious thing in the world.
You nestled against him, pressing a lingering kiss to his chest before looking up at him with a small, content smile. “I feel better now,” you murmured, your voice soft and light, carrying an undertone of relief.
A chuckle rumbled through his chest, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips warm and reassuring. “Good,” he whispered, his tone gentle and full of love. “Love you, baby.”
“Love you too,” you replied, snuggling deeper into his embrace as you let your eyes drift shut. His arms wrapped securely around you, his warmth seeping into your skin and calming every frayed nerve. For the first time in a while, you felt truly at peace, safe in the knowledge that he cared for you in a way no one else ever had.
The way he held you, the way he whispered those words, left no room for doubt.
To him, you were perfect—flaws and all—and in his arms, you began to believe it too. You knew, with unshakable certainty, that he would always be there, the love you deserved.
As your breathing slowed and sleep began to claim you, you felt him tighten his hold ever so slightly, a soft hum of contentment escaping his lips. His chin rested lightly on the top of your head, and you heard the faintest whisper as his voice broke through the quiet stillness.
“I’m so lucky to have you…”
Your lips tipped up into a soft smile. You were so lucky to have him too.
-Bianca🌻
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pinchofhoney · 1 year ago
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broken promises, part one
part one | part two | part three »
coriolanus snow x fem!reader
word count: 1.8k
warning: none
summary: In Snow's world, only one thing mattered more than his family's reputation—you. But that was before he met Lucy Gray.
a/n: coryo is the type of person i sincerely hate and i'm glad that there are no such arrogant people in my life, who think they are better than others and who in crisis situations only care about themselves and to save their own arse. but at the same time i'm aware that young snow could be someone i'd catch a crush on at school. so why shouldn't i hate him even more?
pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for
taglist: you told me to tag you everywhere, so i'm back to doing it again; @wolfmoonmusic
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gif is not mine, credit to the owner
The problem with snow is its tendency to melt, mirroring the way we once thought our feelings would endure forever. Yet, shouldn't emotions, particularly those nestled in our hearts, last longer?
You had known Coriolanus since childhood, and your families had always been close. You had grown up together, surviving the hardships of the war-torn Capitol side by side, and now, in the post-war era, you were still inseparable. There was an unspoken understanding between the two of you going above a simple friendship. Your connection ran deep, like the roots of the oldest trees in the Panem's forests.
Coriolanus was an intriguing character, a puzzle you had been solving together since you were children. He was the embodiment of Capitol charm, with his perfectly tailored suits, polished manners, and charismatic smile that could sway even the most skeptical of Capitol elites. But you knew that beneath that carefully constructed facade was a mind as sharp as a blade and a heart that carried the weight of his family's fallen reputation.
Yet, when he was with you, it was as if a different side of him emerged. The hard lines on his face softened, and his icy demeanor melted away. With you, he could be himself, unburdened by the expectations of Capitol society. It was a rare glimpse into the man behind the mask, and you cherished those moments even more than your favorite jasmine tea and the cat you found shortly after the war had ended.
You couldn't help but admire his intelligence, his quick wit, and his relentless determination to succeed in a world that often seemed stacked against him. His family's name might have been tarnished, but Coriolanus was determined to reclaim their lost glory. He was driven by a burning ambition that flickered like an eternal flame, and you were his unwavering support, the one who fanned that flame to keep it burning bright.
In your eyes, he was more than the sum of his flaws and ambitions. He was the boy you had shared secrets with under moonlit skies, the man who had held you when the world crumbled around you, and the person who knew you better than anyone else. With him, you felt safe, cherished, and loved in a way that no one else could replicate.
Your love for him was boundless, and you were content in the knowledge that you were his confidante, the one person he could be truly vulnerable with. Your relationship with Coriolanus was the envy of many in academy, a seemingly perfect match of two souls intertwined by fate and affection. You were the golden couple, a shining example of love and devotion in a world that often lacked both.
But you wished you had known sooner that it's often the things we love most that destroy us, as Coriolanus Snow's world was about to collide with that of a girl named Lucy Gray and you were not ready for it to happen.
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As the day of the tribute's arrival approached, you had been by Coriolanus's side more than ever. The weeks leading up to this moment had been filled with your unwavering support. You had reassured him countless times, sitting together in your cozy bedroom, his head resting gently on your thighs while you combed your fingers through his soft blonde curls. It was a calming gesture, one that had become a comforting routine. You listened to his concerns, his fears, and his ambitions, and you were sure that everything would be fine, that he would be just perfect as a mentor, and that his scholarship and dreams of continuing his studies at the university were within reach.
Your words were like a soothing melody to him, a reminder that he wasn't alone in this daunting new role. He would look into your eyes with his cold ones, filled with gratitude, and you could see the weight lifting from his shoulders, if only temporarily. And in those moments, you felt like his anchor, the one who kept him grounded amid the chaos of his own thoughts.
Now, you both stood at the nearly deserted train station, the oppressive heat of the day hanging heavily in the air. The scorching sun beat down relentlessly, casting shimmering waves of heat across the empty platform. It seemed that most of the Capitol's citizens had chosen to stay indoors, seeking refuge from the sweltering weather.
The only other souls present were a handful of stoic peacekeepers, their pristine white uniforms stark against the dull backdrop of the station. The silence was broken only by the distant hum of the city beyond, a reminder of the bustling Capitol life that lay just outside the station's borders.
Coriolanus tightly held a single white rose plucked from his grandmother's garden, a symbol of his intent to make a lasting impression on his tribute. It was a stark contrast to the vibrant colors of your academy uniforms. The simplicity of the white rose spoke of his sincerity and dedication to this new role as mentor.
With no clear timetable for the tribute train's arrival, the two of you stood patiently, pretending that the day's weather didn't bother you, the weight of uncertainty hanging over you like a heavy cloud. Coriolanus shifted his gaze between the tracks and the single white bloom in his hand.
You observed him closely, and when his gaze finally met yours, you offered a reassuring smile. “Remember, Coryo,” you murmured, “no matter what, you'll be the mentor she needs; your sincerity and kindness will shine through.”
“I hope you're right, Y/N,” he replied softly, his voice filled with a hint of doubt. “I need her to survive on the arena as long as she can,” he added, as if the idea of a group of vulnerable youths engaging in brutal competition in just a few days were the most ordinary occurrence in the world.
But that was precisely what it represented for the Capitol residents – the Hunger Games, an annual spectacle of entertainment.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly under the unrelenting sun, and the station remained eerily devoid of any signs of life. It felt as though hours had passed, but in truth, you couldn't be sure. Beads of perspiration formed on your brows, and you could feel the heat radiating from the platform's surface.
You and Coriolanus were on the verge of giving up and returning to the cool embrace of your penthouses when, at long last, the distant rumble of an oncoming train reached your ears. The sound grew steadily louder, and you looked at each other, exchanging tired glances.
Coriolanus's grip on the white rose tightened as he turned his gaze towards the approaching train. As he rose from the bench where you had sat, his anticipation peaked. You stood beside him, wanting to be his support, but you had no idea that your role was about to change very soon.
The train pulled into the station with a hiss of steam and the screech of brakes, billowing clouds of moisture and smoke into the scorching air. The two of you watched the machine in silent, your heart pounding in your chest. This was the moment when you would come face to face with people from the Districts, individuals whose lives were so far removed from the opulence and extravagance of your own. It was a rare and humbling experience, one that left you with a slight quiver in your step as you clung to Coriolanus, seeking solace in his reassuring presence.
For what felt like an eternity, nothing happened. The train's doors remained sealed shut, as if holding its cargo of tributes in a reluctant embrace. The only thing that reached you was an unpleasant stench wafting from the carriages, a stark reminder of the grim reality that these young souls were about to face.
Finally the impatient peacekeepers took matters into their own hands. They descended upon the train, their authoritative presence enough to scare the tributes out of their temporary sanctuary. One by one, they were herded onto the platform, their expressions ranging from fear to defiance.
And then, your eyes locked onto a figure unlike the others. A girl stood there, her presence a stark contrast to the muted palettes of others tributes. She wore a rainbow-colored dress that shimmered with vibrancy, a flare of color and individuality amidst the sea of old attire. You recognized her immediately from the television screens, a girl whose name had already become a part of your daily life even before this encounter.
Lucy Gray Baird.
The very name whispered in the hushed tones of Capitol citizens as they watched her on the screens, intrigued and fascinated by her enigmatic presence from the Reaping. Her gaze swept across the platform, and for a brief moment, your eyes locked onto each other's.
You couldn't help but break into a warm, welcoming smile. With a cheerful wave of your hand, you signaled to her that both you and Coriolanus were eagerly awaiting her arrival, hoping to ease the initial tension of this life-altering moment.
Lucy Gray's response was a hesitant yet appreciative smile in return. Her steps were slow and cautious as she walked slowly toward you, a palpable sense of curiosity radiated from her, her eyes flitting between the unfamiliar faces that lined the platform.
Your gaze briefly shifted to Coriolanus, a subtle expectation in your heart that his eyes would mirror the warmth you felt. But when you looked at him, you noticed something different. It was as if his eyes were magnetically drawn to Lucy Gray, locked onto her with a nearly unwavering intensity that bordered on fixation. Those eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, now held an expression you had never quite seen before. It was as though he had stumbled upon a priceless museum exhibit, left captivated, awestruck, and undeniably intrigued.
A soft, knowing smile played at the corners of your lips, silently acknowledging his reaction to the girl before you. You gently squeezed his hand, a gesture of affection and solidarity. You understood that this moment bore immense significance for him, that he was on the corner of a journey filled with unforeseen challenges. Lucy Gray was the keynote of this new chapter in his life, and you couldn't help but admire her from a distance, captivated by her unique presence and the aura that surrounded her.
Before you could utter a word, Coriolanus took a determined step forward, his eyes still locked on the girl. He extended his hand, offering her the pristine white rose he had clutched throughout the wait and with a subtle nod, he greeted her in a tone that resonated with formality and welcome.
“Welcome to the Capitol.”
part two »
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ravenromanova · 1 year ago
Text
Punishments
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Parings: Wandanat x female avenger
Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT!!! DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDERAGE!!!!!! Mommy kink, Daddy kink, Sub space, Edging, Denial, Bondage, Oral, Fingering, Squirting, Overstimulation. DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDER 18!!!!!
Masterlist - Send me requests!!!
This fic came from this request! I hope i did it justice :)
~
You tried to stifle your laughter as you ran down the hall to your room. Once you finally reached your room you didn’t even bother locking the door knowing nothing could stop them. The pranks you pulled on your girlfriends may have backfired a little but it was funny as hell.
It started with you hiding Natasha’s widow bites right before a mission, then you and switched the sugar and salt on Wanda the same say. And as the days went on you kept being a menace to your girlfriends. It didn’t bother them at first since the pranks were mainly harmless. That was until today when you decided to prank them by saying you got really hurt during training and made them come home early from their mission. Let’s just say the look they both gave you when they saw you were fine sent fear down your spine.
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They told you they were giving you a few minute head start and to run so that’s what you did. You ran to your room even though you knew it wasn’t going to do anything. And in all reality Wanda and Nat had already been on the way home from their mission when they got your text but you didn’t need to know that. For them they wanted to punish you for causing fear to run through their veins and being a brat as of late.
So they let you get a five minute head start before they slowly made their way to your room. And when they got to your room you were already on the bed sitting on your knees with your palms up.
“Looks like someone knows they fucked up” Wanda says laughing a little bit at your attempt to be a good girl.
“Don’t think this one good act will get you out of being punished Detka” Natasha croons as she sits behind you on the bed. Her fingers slowly brush over your shoulder blades and you shiver at her touch.
“You’ve been so bad these last couple of weeks and we’ve let it slide but this..you need to be punished for” She adds giving you a gentle kiss at the base of your neck.
Wanda moves so she’s in front of you and she takes you chin in between her fingers and your eyes meet hers. She gives you a soft kiss that you knew is luring you into a false sense of security.
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The two women share a knowing look before Wanda flicks her wrist and your clothes suddenly disappear. You shiver when you feel the cool air hit your skin and you felt your skin become littered with goosebumps. Both of Wanda’s hands find your shoulders and gently pushes you back against the bed as Natasha moves to your side.
“So pretty” Natasha coos running her nimble fingers down your exposed skin. She sits next to you and attaches her lips around your nipple making you gasp in pleasure.
Wanda moves in between your thighs and uses her magic to restrain your hands. You tug on the restraints but the red tendrils of magic squeeze your wrists tighter. Wanda kisses down your stomach and then moves to your thighs before stopping at your core. The sokovian slowly licks your waiting pussy and you moan in pleasure and surprise. Between Natasha sucking and licking your nipples with fever and Wanda kiss your clit you mewl.
What you didnt know was that both women were going to bring you to the brink and then rip it away from you. They were like lions hunting their prey. Wanda started to suck your clit and ate you like a woman starved. You squirmed underneath her and the russian making them smile in unison.
”You’re so pretty bunny” Natasha cooed in your ear kissing below it. You shiver as her cool breath hits your skin.
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Wanda was quick to bring your attention back to her and she shoved two fingers into you unexpectedly. Your back arched off the bed as you try to catch your breathe but inevitably fail. She sets a hard and relentless pace hitting your g-spot every time.
“So fucking wet” Her accent slipped out when she spoke making you and Natasha share a look of lust. The two women were so enthralled with you that they almost forgot about your punishment. But unfortunately for you they didn’t and just as you were about to cum Wanda and Natasha ceased their movements.
“W-What?” You whined pouting at the both of them.
“Did you really think we were gonna let you off the look that easily?” Wanda snarked gripping your chin.
“You made us think you were hurt… You scared us” Natasha said and you heard a hint of fear in her voice. “You need to be taught a lesson” She finished speaking and switched places with Wanda.
“I-Im sorry! Mommy please” You beg Wanda as she comes closer to your face. She laughs before she gives you a light slap against your cheek.
“Shut up” She said in her stern tone that she knew made you fall into your sub space. You looked up at her with doe eyes that nearly made her melt. The way you looked at her she knew you were fully submitting to her her and Natasha.
“I-I’m sorry mommy i didn’t mean it” You said trying to free your hands but it was still no use.
“Say you’re sorry to daddy” Wanda pointed towards Natasha who was laying on your thigh with a devilish smirk.
“I’m sorry daddy” You apologized with sincerity to Natasha making her smile.
“It’s okay bunny but you still need to be punished okay?” She ran her hand up your thigh and started to play with your clit.
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You gasped in pleasure feeling Natasha’s warm mouth on your clit. She licked you as if she was on a mission and to her she was. That’s when Wanda undid the restraints on your hands and they immediately flew to her hair bringing her into a kiss. Wanda gratefully accepted your kiss and held you close to her as she did. The two of you got lost in the kiss so lost that it wasn’t until Natasha stuck two fingers in you that you broke the kiss.
You looked back at Natasha who had a smirk on her face as she hit your most sensitive spots. Your hands went from Wanda’s hair to the sheets gripping them in pleasure. The band in your stomach was about to break it was so close until.
“Stop” Wanda commanded and Natasha ceased her assault on your pussy.
“Fuck!” You screamed out in agony as your orgasm was ripped away from you again. Wanda smacked your mouth again making you moan out.
“Watch your mouth” She said and you sunk back into the mattress nodding your head mumbling an ‘i’m sorry.’ Wanda then brought you in for a sweet kiss signaling for Natasha to start fucking you again.
Three fingers where then found their way back inside you and you cried out in pleasure. Natasha pumped her fingers in and out slowly at first making sure you felt all of her. You nearly finished when you felt her press up against your g-spot.
“i-Im gonna cum. Please can i cum?” You begged both of them gripping onto Wanda’s shoulders as she kissed your collarbone.
“Cum” Natasha commanded watching the way your pussy sucked in her fingers with delight.
Your back arched off the bed and you came with a guttural moan making the women groan in satisfaction.
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Natasha slowly pulled her fingers out of you and licked them with a smile on her face. Her and Wanda shared another look and they both ended up getting the same idea. They switched places again and Wanda ended up between your thighs again then started to play with you again.
“One more bunny” Wanda cooed slowly circling your clit.
“No” You shook your head. “Please mommy i can’t too sensitive” Your words fell on deaf ears and your words cut off by Natasha’s mouth in yours.
You moaned into Natasha’s mouth as you felt Wanda’s lips circle around your clit. She sucked on your clit with intent and slowly added two fingers into you. The coil that had just went away was very quickly building back up once Natasha started playing with your nipples. Her fingers started to tug and pinch your nipples making you mewl in her touch.
Your head was spinning at the pleasure you were feeling. “OH SHIT!” You moaned back arching off the bed as you finished and ended up squirting on Wanda’s face.
“Oh what a good girl” She praised licking up everything that dripped out of you. Natasha quickly got jealous that Wanda was the one to make you squirt and she straddled your waist. She then dipped her head down and licked up what was left of your mess. Her and Wanda shared a heated kiss both moaning when they tasted you on their tongues.
“You taste so good detka” Natasha praised bringing you in for a kiss and Wanda comes back up to your head. You smile at the both of them in a fucked out haze.
“We need to clean you up” Wanda said softly as she tried to bring you back to earth. You opened your eyes and looked at her before shaking your head no.
“Come on babygirl let’s take a bath” Natasha tried to coax you but you just grumbled at her. Both women chuckled at your antics before Wanda used her magic to start running a bath and Natasha swiftly picked you up.
They slowly put you into the warm water and you felt your muscles slowly relax. Both of them cleaned you up being careful not to overstimulate you more. And after the bath was over they got you dressed before the three of you all climbed into bed together.
Soon you fell into a peaceful sleep next to the two women you loved. Who knew that that prank would actually turn out in your favor?
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~The end~
2K notes · View notes
rhiannonsknife · 23 days ago
Text
— BUT I’M A CHEERLEADER (part 1)
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— summary: you’re still getting over your past situationship when you meet nat scatorccio.
— warnings: drinking/alcohol. implied period typical homophobia. based on this request.
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the music pounds through the walls of the house, every beat rattling through your skull and adding to the dizziness you’re already feeling. you’re perched on the edge of the bathtub, clutching a half-empty red cup you’ve forgotten about. the drink has long since lost its taste, and the buzz you’d been riding earlier is wearing off in the worst possible way.
tears fall, slow and relentless, even as you try to force them back. it’s pathetic, you know it is as you look at the mascara smeared face that greets you in the reflection of the mirror ahead.
none of this was supposed to happen. you weren’t supposed to end up here, locked in a bathroom at some stupid party, crying over someone who never cared enough to give you what you wanted. the same old story. you saw it coming, but that doesn’t make it hurt less. it doesn’t make the loneliness any easier to bear.
you run a shaky hand through your hair and wipe at your burning eyes, the red cup slipping slightly as you press it between your palms. it was supposed to be different this time, not feel like the same heartbreak you’ve lived through so many times before. she was different. or at least, you thought she was. that’s what you kept telling yourself while you fell for the girl who promised she was ready to be with you, who made all the right moves, said all the right things.
but when it came down to it, she couldn’t even look you in the eye as you tried to talk about it a couple of weeks ago. all she could do was calling things ‘complicated’ and saying that maybe she wasn’t ready for something real. no apology. no real excuse. and now here she is at the same party, dancing with some guy in a way she never would have with you, leaving you no choice but to watch from across the room.
the bathroom door creaks open suddenly, and you quickly wipe at your face, trying to compose yourself. the last thing you need is for somebody to walk in on one of the cheerleaders looking like this. but it’s too late.
“occupied,” you mumble.
“yeah, no shit,” a dry voice responds
you look up, surprised to see one of the yellowjackets standing against the doorframe. you know her, obviously, if only from a distance, from watching games from the sidelines after performing: natalie scatorccio. she’s the one with the shaggy, bleach blonde hair and that perpetually bored look in her eyes, the one who always wears vintage band tees and a leather jacket if she’s not in her soccer jersey number 7.
“sorry,” you mumble, trying to sound like you’re not completely falling apart. “i’ll leave,”
natalie doesn’t move. she crosses her arms and leans against the wall, her smirk softening. “relax,” she says. “not like i’m dying to hang out with the drunk assholes out there.”
you blink at her, caught off guard. “then why are you here?”
she shrugs, stepping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. “needed a break. but you-“ her eyes flick to your tear-streaked cheeks. “-are you okay?”
“do i look okay?” you snap, voice wobbling.
natalie raises her hands in mock surrender. “fair enough. want to talk about it, or should i leave you to…whatever this is?”
you hesitate, staring down at your cup. she’s a stranger, but something about her feels steady, like she’s not here to judge or pry. before you know it, the words are tumbling out.
“i hooked up with someone. someone i really liked. and they…didn’t feel the same way,”
natalie hums, leaning back against the counter. “cheerleader, right?”
“uh, yeah. how’d you know?”
her grin is small, knowing. “lucky guess,” she gestures vaguely toward your perfect ponytail, the neatly pressed outfit you're wearing (or what's left of it after the night's events). "also, your whole squad has that...same vibe, you know?"
“a vibe?” you echo, frowning.
“you know.” she shrugs. “acting like you’ve got it all together, even when you’re crying in a bathroom…”
you bristle slightly. “well, clearly, i don’t,”
“clearly,” she says, with a smirk that’s just shy of teasing. then, more seriously: “so, what happened?”
you hesitate, then sigh. “i thought we had something. but they didn’t see it that way. basically said i was imagining things!”
natalie tilts her head. “cheerleader too?”
her tone is careful, and the question catches you off guard, though you don't bother denying it. with the amount of cheap liquor you've had, there’s no point in trying to lie. besides, she doesn't strike you as the type to judge, considering the fact that she was the one to bring it up.
“yeah,”
she lets out a dry laugh, shaking her head. “figures. you guys are always so tangled up together,”
you glance up at her, defensive. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“it’s just…” she shrugs. “predictable. all sunshine and pom-poms until someone gets stabbed in the back!”
“not all of us are like that,” you mutter, wrapping your arms around yourself.
“oh, yeah?” she quirks an eyebrow. “then why are you in here crying?”
her bluntness stings, but it cuts through the fog in your head. at least she's not sugarcoating things just to make you feel better. you exhale sharply, and before you can stop yourself, you’re speaking again. “because i thought she actually cared. i thought…” you trail off, shaking your head.
natalie’s expression shifts slightly, something softer slipping through as she shoves her hands into her pockets. “people suck,” she says simply.
you laugh weakly, despite yourself. “yeah. they really do!”
the room falls into silence again, but it’s not uncomfortable. you feel lighter, somehow, like just talking to her has already taken some of the weight off your chest. for the first time tonight, you feel like you can breathe again.
natalie shifts, standing upright and jerking her chin toward the door. “c’mon. this party fucking sucks anyway. let’s get out of here!”
you hesitate, glancing toward the door. “what, you’re just gonna leave?”
she shrugs, her hands still tucked in her pockets. “what’s the point of staying? and let me guess: you’re not exactly dying to run into her again tonight either?”
your stomach twists at the thought, and you shake your head. “no. definitely not!”
“exactly,” natalie says, stepping away from the wall. “so let’s bail. the night’s already shitty, might as well make it less shitty!”
“you want me to come with you?”
she smirks faintly. “you want to stay here crying in the bathroom?”
you let out a soft laugh despite yourself. “alright, fair point”
natalie gestures toward the door. “come on. i know a spot. it’s better than this place, anyway,”
‘better than this place’ isn’t exactly a high bar, but something about the way she says it makes you trust her. you nod, leaving your cup on the counter. “alright. lead the way!”
natalie doesn’t say anything else, just pushes open the bathroom door and leads you through the party. the noise and chaos feel even more overwhelming after the relative quiet, but she moves through it carelessly. you follow her out to the driveway, where her beat-up car sits under a flickering streetlight.
“get in” she says, jerking her head towards the passenger side.
you hesitate for a moment before climbing in. the interior is as unpolished as you’d expect, the faint smell of cigarette smoke lingering in the air. natalie slides into the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut and cranking the engine to life.
“where are we going?” you ask as she starts driving off.
“somewhere quiet,” she says simply, her eyes fixed on the road ahead.
fifteen minutes later, you’re parked at a deserted overlook just outside town. only there, natalie cuts the ignition and leans back, pulling a pack of cigarettes from her jacket.
“want one?” she asks, holding it out to you.
you shake your head. “not my thing”
“suit yourself.” natalie lights one up, the orange glow illuminating her face in the otherwise dark space. for a while, neither of you says anything, the silence surprisingly comfortable.
“so,” natalie starts, breaking the quiet. “you really liked this girl, huh?”
you sigh, leaning your head back against the seat. “yeah. i thought…i don’t know, i thought we had something!”
“maybe she’s just an idiot,” she offers, her voice dry though not unkind. “her loss, right?”
you glance at her, watching the way her face lights up from the faint glow of her cigarette. “what about you, natalie? ever had…dunno, someone break your heart?”
she winces playfully at the name. “natalie? god, no one calls me that. it’s just nat!”
“nat,” you repeat. “alright, nat, what about you then?
she exhales a stream of smoke, her gaze fixed on the horizon through the window shield. “not really,” she says after a pause. “i’ve had my fair share of bullshit. people thinking they can get close, but only on their terms,”
“that sounds…” you trail off, searching for the right word.
“exhausting?” nat supplies, flicking ash out the window. “yeah, it is.”
familiar, is what you were going for, but you suppose ‘exhausting’ will do. you study her for a moment, the sharp angles of her face in the dimly lit space. “you’re not what i expected, you know?”
nat glances sideways at you. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
you shrug, leaning back against the headrest. “i don’t know. i see you at school sometimes…and with the whole soccer thing, i guess i just figured you’d be different,”
“different how?” she presses, curiosity piqued.
“i don’t know,” you hesitate, searching for the right words. “the team’s such a big deal. everyone’s always talking about the yellowjackets since you guys won nationals,”
nat lets out a dry laugh, taking another drag of her cigarette.
“trust me, we’re just a bunch of idiots kicking a ball around. nothing special”
“you’re good, though,” you counter. “regionals last year? that goal you scored? pretty badass!”
“you were there?”
“i’m a cheerleader, remember? i’m at all the games. you don’t really notice us, though, do you?”
“not my thing,” she says with a grimace. “but, uh, thanks. i guess,”
the conversation continues, ebbing and flowing with surprising ease. turns out that nat scatorccio is not at all how you had expected her to be.
eventually, as she runs out of cigarettes to smoke, the cold starts to seep in, and you shiver. nat notices, shrugging off her leather jacket and holding it out to you.
“here,” she says. “you’re gonna freeze to death!”
you blink at her, surprised. a part of you wants to argue, but the goosebumps on your arms speak volumes. “are you sure? won’t you be cold?”
“i’ll survive,” she says, rolling her eyes. “just take it!”
you do, slipping it on quickly. it’s oversized on you, the sleeves hanging past your hands, and smells faintly of smoke. it’s warm, at least, and you murmur “thanks” as your finger clutch at the fabric.
“don’t mention it,” she replies, stubbing out her cigarette. “c’mon, let’s get you home before someone calls the cops on me for kidnapping a cheerleader”
you laugh, the tension easing from your chest as she starts the car and pulls back onto the road, letting you navigate the route to your house.
the drive is quieter this time, the party and all your earlier heartbreak feeling strangely far away. nat drums her fingers on the steering wheel in time with a song playing faintly on the radio.
when she stops in front of your house, you hesitate for a moment before opening the door. “thanks for tonight,” you say, your voice softer than you mean it to be.
she shrugs, her gaze flicking toward you. “don’t overthink it, alright? i just…didn’t want you crying in some gross bathroom all night,”
“well, i appreciate it. see you around?”
“maybe,” she says, a half-smile on her face as you climb out of the car and close the door behind you.
you stand on your front porch for a long moment, watching her tail lights disappear into the night. only then, when theres only the pitch black darkness of the street left ahead of you and nat’s car is long gone, you make your way inside.
it isn’t until you’re curled up in the comfort bed that you notice it: nat’s leather jacket is still wrapped snugly around your shoulders. you hadn’t even thought to take it off, too distracted by the events of the night. now, as you bury your face into the worn leather, you can’t help but smile as you inhale what is a mixture of the scent of her cologne and cigarettes.
the thought makes you grin despite yourself, and you let the warmth of the jacket lull you to sleep, unbothered by the fact that you’re still in a full face of makeup and the clothes you wore to the party.
somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re already thinking about how to return it, though the idea of seeing her again doesn’t feel like a chore at all.
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the gym is still buzzing with energy, the echoes of the rally lingering in the air. you're perched on the bleachers, fiddling with the hem of your cheer skirt as the crowd begins to disperse.
the yellowjackets are clustered near the far corner, laughing and shoving at each other while coach martinez barks something about practice tomorrow that you can understand clearly even from a distance and amongst the giggles of the other cheerleaders.
your eyes, however, are locked on one player only.
she's leaning against the wall, arms crossed, her signature smirk firmly in place as she banters with lottie. she doesn't seem to notice you staring. if she does, she doesn't let on. her hair is messy, sweaty strands sticking to her neck, and there's a small smear of dirt on her cheek that she clearly doesn't care enough about to wipe away.
the ache in your chest is as confusing as it is frustrating. you're not supposed to feel this way about her, of all people. not after how your recent situationship ended. you'd made the stubborn promise to yourself hat you would not end up falling for another girl in the foreseeable future. and yet, here you are, watching nat scatorccio from afar.
"hey"
the voice beside you makes you jump, and you whip around to find her -the girl you'd been seeing, or whatever you'd been doing-hovering uncertainly at your side. only yesterday, the sight would've made your heart ache. now, it just annoys you that she's interrupted your people (nat) watching.
"uh, hi," you mumble, glancing back at nat almost instinctively. the girl notices, following your gaze. "since when do you care about soccer?"
"what? i don't, i wasn't-" you cut yourself off, realizing how pointless it is to lie. "i was just…..zoning out,"
"sure," she says, her tone clipped. she shifts awkwardly, crossing her arms. "look, about the other night-"
whatever she's saying is drowned out by your own thoughts: nat's laughing at something van said, her smile wide and unrestrained. it's different from the smirk she usually wears. it's softer, more real somehow, and your heart stumbles stupidly in your chest.
"are you even listening to me?" she suddenly asks sharply, pulling your attention back to your side of the gym.
you blink, caught off guard. "sorry, what?"
she rolls her eyes, clearly exasperated. "forget it. i just thought we should talk about...whatever this is. or was!"
you don't want to talk, especially not to her. she's made her stance clear. still, you offer: "yeah, no, you're right. we should. just... maybe later?"
she scoffs, throwing up her hands. "whatever. good talk!" you don't even have the energy to stop her as she stalks off, the sound of her sneakers echoing sharply in the nearly empty gym. your gaze drifts back to nat, then, and you catch her glancing your way. your breath catches, the conversation instantly forgotten, but she looks away before you can tell whether she actually noticed you, or if it was just wishful thinking.
even the school parking lot is alive with post-rally energy by the time you and the rest of the cheer squad has made it out of the locker rooms and you're no longer in the tight outfit.
the yellowjackets are lounging around their cars, hard to miss when they're still in their jerseys. you spot nat leaning against her car, a bright yellow number 7 on her chest and a cigarette dangling lazily between her fingers. she's clearly disinterested in whatever story misty is animatedly telling beside her.
your heart thuds uncomfortably as you approach, clutching the leather jacket in your hands. the nerves aren't new, you've felt them every time you've seen her since that night, but this time, it's worse: she's with her teammates, and they're all staring at you the moment you come into view.
"hey," you call out, offering a small wave. "i, uh...i have something that's yours?"
nat's eyes narrow slightly before flicking to the jacket in your hands.
“oh my god, nat,” taissa teases, leaning casually against van's shoulder. "didn't know you were in the habit of lending your stuff to cheerleaders!"
she exhales a puff of smoke, side-eyeing tai. “shut up!”
you bite your lip, stepping closer. “here. thanks for letting me borrow it!” you hold out the jacket, trying to keep your voice steady with the whole team watching the exchange.
nat takes another drag from her cigarette, letting the silence hang for just a beat too long, before, finally, taking the jacket from your hands. “no problem,”
van raises an eyebrow, smirking the exact same way taissa is.
“well, this is new. didn't know you two were friends...?”
“we're not,” nat says quickly, her tone defensive. you glance at her, the sting of her words hitting sharper than you expect.
“but she's nice,” misty chimes in, clearly delighted by the interaction. “and really good at flips! i saw you at the rally. you did that back handspring thing-“
“misty, not now,” lottie interrupts, shaking her head.
“anyway,” you say, forcing a smile despite the awkward tension.
“thanks again, nat. and...see you around…?”
nat shrugs on the jacket. “thanks, i guess,” she mutters, not meeting your eyes.
“uh, no,” you say, catching her off guard. “i'm thanking you. for, you know...saving my ass the other night...?”
nat quirks a brow at you, clearly unimpressed. “right. well, you already said that. so, we're good!” she shifts on her feet, clearly itching to leave. “see you around, cheerleader!”
and with that, she's gone, her boots scuffing against the asphalt as she falls into step with taissa and van.
turns out you do see nat around, more often than she seems to like.
the first time you spot her in the halls, it's almost comical how badly you fail at playing it cool. nat's leaning against a locker, her bag slung carelessly over one shoulder, chatting with somebody you don't recognize. you walk past and try to keep your head down, but you can't resist glancing over at the last second.
unfortunately, nat very much notices: she smirks, raising an eyebrow in what you can only assume is amusement at your awkwardness. “hey, cheerleader,” she calls, her voice echoing in the hall.
“uh, hi!” you manage, voice coming out brighter than intended. the person by her side snickers, but nat doesn't say anything else, and you slink away, your face burning.
the second time, you're determined to do better.
you catch her near the parking lot, hanging around with a group of guys you've never seen around before. she's got a bottle in a paper bag, her posture lazy and self-assured, and for a moment, you stop in your tracks, hesitant. but then you remember her kindness at the party, and you square your shoulders. the least you can do is thank her properly.
“hey, natalie,” you call as you approach, and she glances over, her expression one of confusion before recognition flashes over her features.
“it's nat,” she corrects automatically, taking a swig from the bottle.
“what do you want?”
you dig into your pocket and pull out the scrap of paper, you'd prepared in class, holding it out to her. “here!”
she takes it, frowning. “what's this?”
“my number,” you say, surprising even yourself with how steady your voice is.
nat snorts. “yeah, no thanks. not really my thing.”
“no, not like that!” you insist quickly, though your face warms. “it's just...if you ever want to talk, or hang out, or whatever. i still owe you for that night, remember?”
her eyes narrow as she studies you, and for a moment, you're sure she's going to crumple the paper and toss it. but instead, she tucks it into her jacket pocket with a shrug. you consider it a small win when you leave her to it.
the third time you try your luck with nat, it's after school. nat's sitting on the steps outside, looking a little less put-together than usual: her hair's messier, her leather jacket slightly crinkled, and she's perched on the edge of a concrete step, surrounded by a few other yellowjackets.
you hesitate, shifting your weight from foot to foot, wondering if you should just let it go for today. but then you remember the way she looked at you the first time you crossed paths after the party, how her gaze softened just a little and how willing to hold nat had been, and it pushes you forward.
you walk up to her, purposefully ignoring the eyes of the other yellowjackets, but determined to try anyway.
“hey,” you say, a little unsure.
nat looks up at you then, her eyes calculating as she takes in your approach. for a moment, she doesn't say anything, just watching you with a furrowed brow. you can feel the familiar rush of nerves, but you push through it anyway.
“do you have a minute?” you ask, trying to sound casual. her lips twitch in what might be the beginning of a smirk, but she doesn't move. “no cheerleading practice today?”
you blink in surprise until you remember: she knows. of course she knows. everyone knows. it's hard to miss you bouncing around in that uniform, especially when you're standing next to your teammates, who always make a point of making everything so damn loud.
“no, not today,” you reply, glancing down at your shoes. “i...thought i'd take a break. come see what you're up to...?”
she doesn't immediately respond, but her eyes flick to the group of yellowjackets gathered around her, clearly sensing that they're all watching in anticipation. nat takes a long drag from her cigarette before replying in her usual dry tone. “why are you here, cheerleader? got another number for me to ignore?”
you almost laugh: the way she says it isn't cruel or mean, but teasing instead.
“no,” you say, shaking your head. “just wanted to check in. i haven't really heard from you since that night. thought i’d see if you were still alive!” nat doesn't seem fazed by the comment. she just exhales a puff of smoke before she replies: “i'm fine,”
you bite your lip but continue, “so you're not mad at me for, you know, giving you my number? for-“
“i'm not mad,” nat interjects. “just don't expect me to be...all friendly, alright?”
you feel a flash of disappointment, but try not to show it. instead, you nod, aiming for a smile but landing more on an awkward grimace. “fair enough. just thought i'd try, you know?”
for a moment, nat just looks at you, her expression unreadable. you're about to turn away, thinking you've pushed too much, when she suddenly speaks again. “you're persistent, i'll give you that,”
you turn back, blinking in surprise.
“maybe it's because i don't like giving up," you reply, your heart skipping a beat. "i really do owe you for what happened that night.”
she shrugs, the motion almost lazy. “you don't have to keep thanking me,”
“i know” you tell her. “but if you ever want to grab a coffee or something, i mean..i'll be around”
just when you think she's going to dismiss you again, she looks over at the group, making sure they're not listening, then back at you. “i'll think about it, cheerleader,” nat says, her voice softer than usual. “but if we do this, i get to decide where we go. deal?”
you blink, surprised by her answer, but you can't hide the grin that spreads across your face. that's not a no. it's far from it, actually.
“deal,” you agree, heart racing in your chest hopefully.
“good,” she says, her lips curling slightly as she pats her pocket, where she must still keep the note with your number on it. “i’ll let you know when. don't go getting your hopes up, though!”
and with that, she turns back to the group, pulling the collar of her jacket up higher, but you catch the smallest smile before she does.
you're not sure if you've just secured somewhat of a date with nat scatorccio or if you're just being hopeful. either way you’re not ready to back down yet.
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you don't hear back from nat right away. truthfully, you're not sure you ever will. then, three days later, just when you've pretty much given up on it, the telephone rings.
“hello?” you say, balancing the phone between your ear and shoulder as you set your homework aside.
“hey, cheerleader”
your heart practically jumps at the sound of nat's voice, low and almost reluctant, as though she's already second-guessing this decision
“nat?” you ask, sitting up straighter.
“yeah,” she replies, and you can practically hear her smirking through the phone. “i said i'd think about it, didn't i?”
a stupidly wide smile spreads across your face before you can stop it.
“you did. so, what's the verdict?”
there's a pause on the other end, and then: “tomorrow night. meet me at the bowling alley on main street, eight o'clock?”
“bowling?” you repeat, surprised.
“yeah, you know? shoes that look like fucking clown rejects, greasy fries, cheap drinks?” she pauses, and her voice takes on a teasing edge. “figured it'd be fun to see you totally suck at something for once!”
you laugh softly, shaking your head. “wow, thanks for the vote of confidence. are you any good?”
nat immediately snorts, and the sound is so sudden and genuine that it makes your grin widen. “hell no. i fucking suck. but they've got an arcade, so if we both bomb at bowling, at least there's that!”
“an arcade?”
“what, you don't think i could beat your ass at pinball?”
“oh i think i could destroy you at pinball, actually!” you laugh into the speaker
“big talk, cheerleader,” nat says, her smirk audible. “guess we'll see, huh?”
“guess we will,” you reply, still smiling.
there's a moment of silence before she speaks again, her tone quieter now. “see you tomorrow, then. don't flake!”
“i won't," you promise. “you better not either!”
nat scoffs lightly. “yeah, yeah. see you at eight!”
before you can respond, the line goes dead, leaving you with the telephone pressed to your ear, smiling like an idiot.
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— a/n: happy new year everyone!! here’s the first part of my little nat series (masterlist) <3
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chaconnehoonie · 1 month ago
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Hai hai new here ! Loved your puppy Jake and was just wondering if you could do one about sunghoon and reader ice skating date? But ~freaky~ hehehe maybe reader is wearing a vibrator or plug while skating? all those falls on her ass really getting hoonie worked up? Locker room quickie mayhaps 🤭 Can’t wait to see what you do with this one >_< tyyy in advance
- 🩰
Thank you for this 🖤can’t wait to get more anons 🥹
Smut warnings: public sex, choking, cursing, Sunghoon controls reader’s vibrator
MDNI!
After three years of dating, most couples would find themselves bored with their sex lives. You and Sunghoon are not most couples.
Since day one, it’s like you both clicked with your shared interests, some about casual things like hobbies and music tastes, most like sexual preferences and kinks. Last week he let you handcuff him to the bed and use bondage whips on him—only if he got to choose your punishment today.
That’s how you found yourself squeezing his hand tight enough you’re afraid you might break one of his fingers, but you’re more worried about the orgasm you’re trying to hold in.
Today, Sunghoon decided he wanted to take you on your annual date at the ice skating rink, only this time you’re struggling to stay upwards on the ice with a vibrator in your panties. It seems cliche, having your boyfriend control your vibrator in public and watching you try to hide the fact that you’re on the brink of an orgasm. But to Sunghoon, this is one of the dirtiest things you’ve done together.
You’re sliding around on this ice, somewhere he’s been skating and practicing at for years, holding his hand with bright red cheeks? And you expect him not to add a little jump in the vibrations? Of course he has the vibrator connected to his phone, he loves watching you squirm and shake every time he draws new shapes and doodles onto his screen. The remote control is too obvious anyway.
Hot and heavy in his pants, he doesn’t even check his suroundings every time he reaches into his jeans to fix his bulge. He’s cocky, sure, but he knows you love it. He knows you love when he can’t control himself and pulls you into random places to lift up your skirt and shove his face between your thighs, or pushes you against a wall to hump against your backside resulting in a sticky messy in his underwear.
It seems with how you’re holding him so tight and letting shaky breaths out every few seconds, he has you right where he wants you. “Hoon…” you tug at his sleeve, “Hoonie, I can’t.” He looks down at you, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek while the other draws hearts onto his phone screen. “It’s okay, baby.” He whispers against your lips, his nose gently rubbing against yours domestically. “Let it go, for me.”
You nod, squeezing your eyes shut as you relax and let your orgasm wash over. It hits harder than you expected, letting out a whimpered shout as your legs fail to hold you up, landing on your ass flat against the freezing ice. Sunghoon groans, watching how your skirt flows around your butt and thighs perfectly sculpting your figure. “Fuck.” He leans down, picking you up by your waist to stand you back on your feet, just to drag you out of the ice rink and towards the locker rooms.
You already know what’s coming when he leads you inside, heading straight to his locker and opening it up to grab his spare key. Does the owner of the rink know Sunghoon has a copy of the locker room key? No. But he’s been skating here for years, he might as well, right?
Locking the door from the inside, he turns around to face you, pupils wide with lust and lips bitten raw and red. “Come here.” His voice is low, offering you a hand to take in your own. You gently place your palm in his, gasping when he tugs you towards his body, spinning around so your back hits the wall. He’s thoughtful even in times like these, keeping a hand behind your head so you don’t knock it against the wall. His lips are relentless though, immediately pressing them to yours in a harsh kiss, the movement of his lips communicating his need.
“I need these off. Now.” He separates the kiss to pull your panties down, still holding eye contact even as he uses his middle finger to spread your arousal around your wet hole. You attempt to do the same to him, struggling to unbuckle his belt when he easily slides his finger into your heat. He chuckles at your reaction, thrusting his finger a few times before pulling it back out and freeing himself of his own jeans and boxers.
Pulling you back into a kiss, his tongue wraps around yours, sucking and sliding, moaning at the taste of your lips. He slaps one of your thighs, grabbing your leg by your knee to hoist it against his hip, leaving your other leg to hold yourself up.
You part from his lips, looking down to watch as he rubs himself against your bare pussy, his tip leaking and sticky, his precum and your slick making it easy for him to slide right into you. Your head falls forward against his shoulder, biting onto the fabric of his thick coat to muffle your moans.
There’s a lewd squelch when he bottoms out, cock snug against your walls and balls pressed tightly against your ass it’s almost painful. He pulls out to the tip, rubbing himself against one once more, the head of his cock kissing your clit with each slide against you.
He’s insatiable though, unable to hold himself back from sliding back into you with one hard thrust. It’s painful, but the pain so, so good it has you going cross eyed and seeing stars. Your leg that’s around his hip is tense, toes curling when he starts to thrust, harshly poking your cervix with each push of his hips.
“Hoon! Oh-God.” You moan into his neck, your breath hot against his cool skin, sending shivers thrughout his body and heightening the pleasure. “Yeah.” He lets out a strangled groan, “Take it.” You nod aggressively, kissing and sucking on the skin across his neck and collarbone, biting hard enough to leave teeth marks for days.
He loves it though, speeding up his hips and using both hands to grab your ass, spreading your buttcheeks and pulling you against him. He pushes and pulls your body in rhythm with his thrusts, the sounds of skin slapping and heavy breathing echo throughout the empty room, surely loud enough to alert anyone passing by or even attempting to come in.
Letting go of one cheek, he uses his empty hand to wrap his fingers around your throat, squeezing tight enough to cut off just the right amount of air to have you cumming undone around him. Your walls are suffocating, his cock struggling to fight off his own orgasm as your insides massage him and coat his length in cum.
Without warning, his hips slow down as he releases, warm spurts of cum filling your cunt, dripping onto the floor underneath your bodies.
He pulls out slowly, kissing your forehead gently as he helps you lower your leg to stand on again. Even in the roughest sessions he makes sure to care for you not only during but after sex too. He stuffs his softening cock into his boxers, clumsily fixing his jeans back onto his hips before bending over to pick up your panties, along with your vibrator.
“Put these back on, we’re not done.” His voice is deep, almost taunting while he tries to hide an excited smirk. Almost immediately, he pulls out his phone and turns on the vibrator, drawing a few shapes and you know you’ve got a long night ahead of you.
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utahimeow · 1 year ago
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cw — nsfw content. minors dni. boxer!wriothesley, established relationship, handjob, slight size kink
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warm water wraps around you as though a blanket, envelops you as though a coccoon. steam crawls softly into the air, wispy as it winds its way into your lungs and tucks away every last thought in your brain.
the scent of cherry blossom settles into every corner of the bathroom and mingles with the soft vanilla of the candles you lit. tealights glow like little fireflies all around the tub. with your eyes closed, you’re floating along a river in an enchanted forest, until a door clicks and you’re back in your quaint city apartment.
not that that’s a bad thing—after all, the noise signifies the return of your lover.
there’s about a minute of shuffling outside and the heavy thud of his duffle bag hitting the floor. then, the door handle dips slowly and wriothesley slinks into the haven you’ve made of your bathroom.
he crosses the room in one stride, but before you have the chance to open your eyes to examine his face like he knows you will, he cups your entire face in one huge hand and draws you in until his mouth is on yours.
his lips are hot, the bottom one slightly swollen and bumpy in a way that you know in an instant it’s been bruised.
it comes with the job is what he always tells you. you think he’s trying to convince himself more than you. he’s broken your heart a thousand times, coming home with cut cheekbones and blood streaming from his nostrils at least once a week, and still it never gets easier for you to see.
if it were up to you, you would lock him up inside your ribcage and keep him safe, stowed away from the relentless world.
he’s stopped letting you come to his fights. he did a while ago—his version of ‘protecting’ you. he figured it was worth giving up sharing the triumph of his victories with you if it meant you didn’t have to witness the violence he was paid to do, to have done to him. it also meant you were left to stay at home and bask in a pool of your own dread until he came through the front door again.
i fight for you, my dear is what he always tells you. he doesn’t listen when you tell him that you wish he didn’t have to.
wriothesley starts to climb into the spot behind you, but you shake your head no.
“sit in front,” you say, soft.
wordlessly, he obeys.
you continue, “did you win?”
“‘course i did,” he says, like he’s telling you the weather. “it was a rookie though. almost beat my ass. he could be trouble in a couple years.”
you hum. the water sloshes as he settles in the nook created by your thighs, his broad, hulking back facing you.
wriothesley is a mountain. he stands at six foot five, his muscles hard and thick and honed to perfection. he is the personification of raw power, and yet when your thumbs rub tight circles into his shoulder blades, he melts like wax.
your gentle fingers work away the stubborn knots beneath his skin. his breathing bounces off the bathroom tiles, deep and heavy yet full of relief, as your touch helps him slip further and further from the weapon that he becomes in the ring.
the tips of your fingers trace along his spine, sliding over each vertebra. they ghost over his shoulders, gliding forward until they run along his collarbones.
with your arms hooked around his neck, wriothesley allows you to pull him backwards lightly until his back is flush to your bare front, and you hold him. there is nowhere you want to be more than here, with your flesh moulded with his.
you reach for his wrist, lifting his hand out of the water, rubbing your thumbs over his bruised, bloodied knuckles. after you’ve cleansed them, you bring them to your lips and you kiss them one by one. then you reach for his other hand, wipe away his sins, and forgive them with your lips.
moments like this remind you of what wriothesley was like when you first met him. a stray dog in human form— he cowered from your touch, bared his teeth and growled and snapped at you. he had no trust left in him, therefore all he knew how to do was fight.
like all stray dogs, however, he started to let you in, slowly. he started to come to you. he knew he could come to you. quickly he figured out that your lap was his favourite spot.
now, he lays between your thighs, while your lips press wet kisses at the top of his spine, and along his shoulder blade, and in a trail up his neck. he lets you kiss and suck and bite and devour him all you want, mark him up, make him yours. there is nowhere he wants to be more than here, melting into you.
a deep moan, almost inaudible, rumbles in his chest as he breathes out, a sound that makes you throb between your legs and your lips twist into a grin.
you lean in close to his ear, let your warm breath ghost over the skin of his neck. “can i touch your cock?” you ask in a whisper.
“please,” he grumbles, but it’s far from desperate. wriothesley does not beg—his plea is to encourage you.
one of your hands trails down his rigid body until you find his cock, half-hard at the bottom of a dark trail of hair, and your fingers curl around him, but he’s so thick that your fingertips don’t even touch. you thumb at his slit, drawing small circles around his blushing tip, the way you know makes him utterly weak.
the moment you start to move, gliding your hand slowly up and down his cock, wriothesley’s head falls back against your shoulder, his body slumping as he surrenders himself to your touch. he sighs out, like he’s trying to expel the stress that’s within him, relishing in the way you work him.
biting your lip, you start to pick up your pace, jerking him off with a tad more vigour. you tighten your fist around the head of his cock, feeling the muscles of his back stiffen against your chest as you do.
it’s uncharacteristic how pliant he becomes sometimes, so putty in your hands in a way that makes you wonder if this is the same man who can put his opponents in a coma. he batters and beats them bloody, just to come home and fall apart in your arms.
“am i making you feel good?” you murmur into his skin, tugging at his cock steadily.
“fuck yes,” he replies, a low growl. “always do, baby.”
wriothesley’s gravelly voice travels straight to your core, spurring you on, so you flick your wrist just a little faster, again. you squeeze him a little tighter before loosening your grip, going back and forth in a way that makes the man’s head spin.
you’re peppering his neck and shoulder with kisses, lips fluttering over his skin tenderly in hopes of drawing him nearer to his edge. blood rushes to his face, his cheeks and nose burning hot pink, his lips parting slightly as he pants. the one downside to having him like this—you can’t see his pretty face.
he can’t help how his hips buck slightly up into your hand, following the swift strokes of your wrist. you go faster, filled with the urge to help him finish, determined to help him find euphoria.
he’s achingly hard in your hand now, throbbing against your fingertips.
“‘m fuckin’ close,” he mumbles, breathy and low, lifting his head off your shoulder to watch the way your hand drags up and down his cock.
and the sight alone is enough to make him cum—he groans, roaring loud, throwing his head back onto your shoulder, the ridges of his abdomen clenching as his cock twitches and his release dribbles from his tip, warm and thick as it covers your hand.
his body shakes against yours. you’re pressing your lips to his hot skin again while he comes back down from his climax, breathing hard, sinking further into your body now that you’ve loosened him up even more.
“fuck. need a nap now,” wriothesley rasps.
you giggle, full of affection for him. “then do it. promise i won’t drown you.”
“i would, but baby, this bath is not made for people who are six-foot-five. my back’s starting to hurt,” he says, rising out of the water and stepping out of the bath. fully bare, he looks like a greek god. when he turns back around, you’re pouting.
“maybe you’re getting old,” you quip. the way you stare at him reminds him of a cat.
he quirks an eyebrow. you don’t see it coming when he lunges forward and scoops you up out of the bath, and you’re squealing.
“good, so i’ll be dead soon. won’t have to put up with you any longer,” he says, but he’s wrapping a towel around you and patting you dry, and his icy blue eyes are brimming with a fondness reserved for nobody else but you.
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vroomvro0mferrari · 10 months ago
Text
CL16 | Oblivious
Sorry it took me so long, I was really busy with finals the last couple of weeks but I've finally finished the fic from the poll! I hope you like it :)
Summary: Charles has been blatantly flirting with Y/N for months, but she's the only one who hasn't noticed.
Charles Leclerc x Sainz!Reader
WC: 2.4K
Warnings: None
Masterlist
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Charles was busy in the garage, talking with his mechanics when he saw her walk in. Y/N Sainz, the younger sister of his friend and teammate. He had seen her many, many times when she came to support her brother at his races. It seemed like Charles could sense her presence, knowing she was there without having seen or heard her, always looking up right when she walked in. Y/N Sainz was greatly loved by the Ferrari employees. With her bubbly personality, witty jokes, and bright smiles, all the team members enjoyed her presence. And Charles couldn’t help but feel the same way, although Y/N was completely oblivious to his affection. 
His face lit up when their eyes met, instantly smiling at her company. As soon as she was close enough, he greeted her, “Ah Y/N! Nice to see you again, you look lovely today!” He grinned.
“Oh, thank you, Charles. You’re so kind!” She responded with a bright smile as she hugged him in greeting, the flirty undertone going by entirely unnoticed.
Charles had been enamoured with Y/N since the first time they met. In an effort to not come off too strong and scare her away, Charles tried to flirt with her subtly. However, after several occurrences without any reaction from Y/N, it seemed his flirting was too subtle. Either that or she was not into him. But he couldn’t give into that possibility just yet.
As time passed and Y/N became a more familiar face in the paddock, Charles’s flirtations became bolder. He’d constantly try to include her in conversations and would make up all kinds of excuses just to talk to her. Whenever he did manage to string her into another conversation, he’d try to make her laugh as much as he could. Simply because he could, and because he loved to see her happy and smiling. And if he was feeling really confident, he would even go as far as to touch her arm or the small of her back while they were chatting away or walking around the paddock together. Nevertheless, to Charles's frustration, Y/N didn’t seem to notice his underlying motives, dismissing his actions and words as nothing more than friendly gestures.
Meanwhile, everyone else who had ever been around the duo seemed to have caught sight of the one-sided infatuation and attempt at courtship. Everybody except for Y/N had noticed Charles was desperately trying to make his feelings for the girl obvious, but she simply kept friend-zoning him. Frankly, he found it embarrassing. 
Nearly all of Charles’s fellow drivers had been caught up in one of his attempts to woo Y/N while she simply brushed his compliments off as friendly comments. It was hard not to notice Charles’s fruitless flirting when he did it right in front of them, but they didn’t say anything about it. His colleagues merely exchanged knowing glances with others aware of the situation, amused at Charles’s futile attempts at winning Y/N over. But as time wore on, and Charles kept trying, at least a few of his colleagues started to comment on his persistence, calling him a simp, and joking about his poor flirting. Some suggested he should stop his pursuit of Y/N, as it seemed she wasn’t interested, but Charles was relentless: he would not quit until he knew for sure Y/N Sainz didn’t and would never like him.
And so, when Charles spotted Y/N walking through the paddock with Lando, one of the people in the paddock she got along with better, talking animatedly and laughing loudly with each other, he approached her once more; he would seize any opportunity to blatantly flirt with Y/N. He quickly caught up with the two, putting his hand on the small of her back as he matched his speed with theirs. “You’re absolutely radiant today, chérie” He greeted her with a cheeky grin.  
Y/N looked to her side, greeting the new presence “Hey, Charles!” As oblivious as always, she sweetly smiled up at him and replied, “Thanks! You’re such a sweet friend!”
Lando was a mere bystander in the situation as he observed the interaction, surprised and amused at the ease with which Y/N once again waved off the man who was so clearly crushing on her. He held his opinions back until Charles left, “Wow, you certainly have no trouble friend-zoning him, don’t you?” He commented.
Y/N cocked her head as she looked at him, her brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Lando laughed humourlessly, “Dear God, you really have no idea?” He paused, “Y/N, Charles has been flirting non-stop with you for ages. How on earth have you not noticed?”
She stopped walking and looked at him in confusion, “He’s not flirting with me, Lando, he’s just being nice. He’s a good friend.��� 
“I’m actually quite sure he’s flirting with you, Y/N. So is everyone else. You could literally ask any of the drivers, and they would confirm it. The Ferrari employees too, I reckon. He likes you, Y/N.” He said unimpressed.
“Charles likes me?” She asked softly, suddenly turning shy, a blush creeping onto her face.
Lando sighed, realising his friend was even more oblivious than he initially thought. “Yeah, he does. I’m honestly surprised you’ve never noticed.” He gently squeezed her shoulder before they parted ways.
— — —
For the rest of the day, Y/N thought about Lando’s words. She thought about all her interactions with Charles over the last few months and realised that he did compliment her quite often. 
Once, on a sunny afternoon, Y/N was chatting with some of the Ferrari team members near the garage when Charles spotted her. He, as always, decided to walk over to talk with her, his usual charming smile on his face and mischief in his eyes.
"Y/N, only you can make a sunny day even brighter," he said with a big, playful smile and admiration in his voice.
Y/N blinked at him, surprised by his sudden appearance and his bold statement. "Oh, thank you, Charles! That's really sweet of you to say."
Unfazed by her obliviousness, Charles pressed on, determined to make his feelings known after such a long time. "No, really," he insisted, his gaze unwavering. "I mean it. You bring a brightness to the paddock that I can't quite explain."
Y/N laughed softly, “Well, um, thank you. That’s very kind. What can I say? I try my best.” She replied with a smile.
Another time, Y/N was in the team hospitality when she accidentally spilt her drink, leaving an obvious stain on her white shirt. Charles, who was, unsurprisingly, standing nearby (as always), had noticed immediately and courteously offered one of his extra Ferrari shirts. When he saw the girl he had liked for months in his clothes, wearing his driver’s number, he naturally couldn’t resist the urge to flirt with Y/N.
"Have I ever told you how stunning you look in red?" he remarked, his eyes sparkling with mischief and fondness at the sight of her.
Y/N laughed and replied, "No, I don't think you have," smiling at him in a friendly manner.
"Well, consider it said," he said, his tone playful. "You wear it better than anyone else, that's for sure."
Y/N laughed softly, appreciating her friend’s words, "I doubt that’s true, but thanks, Charles."
Thinking back to these moments, Y/N realised maybe Charles had indeed been flirting with her. However, he might just be like that with all of his friends, complimenting everyone he cares about. Nevertheless, now that Lando had brought this to her attention, she would surely pay extra attention to what Charles would say to her tomorrow.
— — —
The next day, Charles had caught her in a conversation again. They were talking about the race and the current situation with Ferrari. He mentioned the pressure from the team and all the fans that want him to do well, and that the car and the strategies aren’t working the way he wants them to. Of course, Y/N tried to reassure him; to relieve the pressure and stress Charles was feeling. He absolutely adored the way she was trying to comfort him and was not afraid to let her know, “I have to admit, Y/N, nobody can cheer me up like you can. You calm my nerves like no one else,” he said, looking at her lovingly while he expressed his feelings.
Y/N didn’t know how to respond. This was the first time she noticed he was flirting with her whilst he was actually doing it, and she had no idea how to react. When she felt her face heat up, she could only assume she was blushing from the nerves. She diverted her gaze, trying to come up with a good reply to Charles’s advances. How did she usually respond when Charles complimented her? She couldn’t remember now.
Charles was confused at Y/N’s lack of response to his remark. Normally, she’d immediately smile at him and thank him for whatever compliment he’d come up with, but now, she was looking away, and - was he seeing that right? Was she blushing? He had flirted with her countless times, but she had never blushed at any of his comments. Had she finally noticed his advances? Charles watched her with an amused smile while she searched for the right words.
Eventually, she shyly smiled at him, meeting his eyes in a fleeting glance before responding, “I’m glad to be of help.”
Charles, Charles, proud that he was the one to cause her flustered appearance, decided to push a little further, curious to see what would happen, “You really have no idea how much you mean to me, Y/N. Your support helps me so much.” Charles smiled gently and put his hand on her arm. When there’s no immediate response, he continues, “Anyway, I have to get ready for the race. I’ll see you later, yeah?” Y/N merely nodded and watched him walk away.
Her brother had been watching the interaction from a distance, observing the way his sister responded to Charles’s obvious flirting and, too, noticing the difference. “You finally figured it out, huh?” He said with a teasing smile. Y/N rolled her eyes at him in annoyance, but Carlos just continued, “You should let him know you like him too.” Y/N didn’t respond. “You do like him don’t you?” He asks, confused at her unresponsiveness. “Leave me alone, Carlos!” She replied, pushing her brother away. He laughed at her; that reaction was enough for him to know the answer to his question. He ruffled her hair and walked away, also needing to get ready for the race.
After her short talk with Charles, Y/N was sure that he liked her, but how to proceed? She could barely focus on the cars going around the track while all types of ideas were racing around in her head. What on earth was she supposed to do now? Should she wait until the next time Charles would flirt with her, or should she make the move instead? Considering Carlos’s advice, she decided she should take matters into her own hands.
She walked up to Charles as soon as she saw him entering the garage after the race. She had always thought Charles was incredibly attractive – like most women, but he looked especially handsome after he had raced.
“Hey, good job on the race!” She greeted Charles, pulling him into a hug. She looked at him for a second or two, contemplating whether she should actually do this. She smiled up at him shyly, “You know, I love the way your hair looks after a race.” She said blushing, running one of her hands through his messy hair. Charles is surprised at her comment, but he’s shocked at her hand in his hair. This is the first time she has complimented him – or at least, initiated it. Let alone, her touching him in such an intimate way. His eyes were wide and his mouth was slightly agape as he stared at her in disbelief. It was now Charles’s turn to be flustered as Y/N finally reciprocated his attempts at flirting.
In his silence, Y/N decided to continue, “It’s hot.” She said, avoiding eye contact. Charles was unsure how to respond. He had never experienced a situation like this before; he always knew exactly what to say, but she had caught him off guard. After Y/N had friend-zoned him countless times, he was definitely not expecting this; he was not sure what to do.
The absence of a reply only made Y/N more nervous. She distanced herself from him, letting her hand fall from his hair, realising she probably shouldn’t have touched him without permission. Charles was quick to notice her retreat and held her face to stop her from leaving. He raised her chin to make their eyes meet and asked her softly, “Let me take you to dinner?” while he stared at her with adoration.
Y/N smiled at him fondly and nodded her head, “I’d like that, Charles. I’d really like that.” 
“Good,” He said firmly, his smile growing wider, matching hers. “I have to leave now for the debrief, but I’ll text you, okay?” 
Y/N nodded her head in response, letting out a hum. Charles pulled her face closer with the hand on her cheek, and fleetingly kissed her forehead before leaving, looking over his shoulder to catch her gaze one last time.
Y/N stood still in shock for a while, processing what just happened. She had agreed to go on a date with Charles. She was staring outside, letting the situation sink in as she watched people pass by in the busy paddock. Suddenly, she spotted Lando waving wildly at her, trying to get her attention. When he realised that she had seen him, he smiled mischievously and gave her a thumbs-up, assuming the kiss he saw Charles give her was a good sign. Y/N rolled her eyes at him, annoyed by his nosiness, but Lando just laughed, amused at her bother and glad his meddling had helped.
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the-midnight-blooms · 5 months ago
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me and my husband | psh
pairing: CEO!park seonghwa x scientistwife!reader AU: modern au word count:  6.3k
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In the midst of a fragile soul dwindling under the aches of animosity, the married couple laid in bed with their backs facing each other. The husband, Park Seonghwa, an esteemed CEO of a pharmaceutical company ‘Park Pharmaceuticals.’ had the front board of the book lodged into the silk casing of his pillow with his other hand steadying it so he could still, quite painfully, scan his eyes over the text. Agitated, he got up with a grunt before sitting up to finish the chapter of his book. With his scientists publishing reports on the latest medicine they were developing, he immediately rushed back to his university textbooks to affirm he was still equipped with the necessary knowledge to understand the science. Meanwhile, Mrs Park- a research scientist at Park Pharmaceuticals' rival company, ‘Kim Pharma.’ was battling against her insomnia despite motherhood knocking her straight off her feet. Their daughter, Park Dami, was fast asleep in the room next door to Seonghwa’s study cuddling the little Toothless toy he had gifted her when she was still a cherub. It had seemed that Mrs Park was prone to falling asleep at the most odd times of day, whether it be during dinner or cleaning the home.
Perhaps it was the heartache she was suffering from. The love that she had held for her husband was a permanent fixture, a vow that she had promised not to break, and one she had not and never would for as long as she lived. However, the increasingly distant behaviour from her husband in light of his burgeoning role as CEO had her heart yearning for him. Being a mother was difficult and of course, so was Seonghwa’s job. Yet, he also had duties as husband and a father, which he seemed eager to abandon altogether.
“Why can’t you try to understand how difficult it is for me to do all of this? So much pressure at work, then I come to you going on about some stupid dinner with your parents!” He shouted, she flinched at the dissonance of his noxious tone reverberating off the walls of the small study- biting down at her lip.
“I’m sorry, I’ll leave.”
“Sorry, my arse. If you were sorry, you wouldn’t be fucking nagging in my ear all the time, would you?” He barked, as she sped out of the room. It had been three weeks since she had, politely and quietly, asked her husband if he was free to attend her mother’s dinner party. He refused, erratically, and despite having apologised with saccharine kisses and diligent promises, he didn’t turn up to dinner in the end.
“Oh he’s busy Mum. He’s seeing to some of the lab work, you know how stressful it was for me.” Her father complained light-heartedly, raising how unfair it was of him to neglect his family.
“Do you want to me have a chat with him? I can give him a good word.” Hastily, she steered her father away from that direction. The last thing she needed was Seonghwa to turn around and blame her for the earache her father would give.
With a relentless sigh, she sat up reaching for the bottle of water on the nightstand. His eyes flickered at her movements, lips moving up and down to form the shape of the words as he silently committed them to memory, forming judicious links between the knowledge and application.
“Seonghwa.” She called out for him, he hummed in return, barely reeling his eyes off the page. Please look at me. “I was thinking about going back to work again. I contacted my manager about restarting and at the moment I would only need to go in for about two days or so.” Shutting his book close, he finally met her stare, deep in contemplative thought.
“Do you think you can work and take care of Dami at the same time?” He questioned. She had thought about this several times before she dialled in her manager’s number. As much as she had inherited her father's kind-hearted nature, stunning beauty, and soft-spoken voice in the end it was the passivity she had drawn from her mother naturally rendering herself subservient to prioritise ones needs over her own. Essentially, if she had told Dami to keep her lips on a tight seal and remain of the sofa the whole day: she would.
“I’m sure I can as long as she's in sight. She'll be in nursery from September, so I'll be able to start work.” He fell a little quiet, turning to drop his book onto the night stand.
“Ok, if that’s what you want. If you need me to come home earlier, I mean I can’t at the moment, but in a few weeks time if you need me to-then I will.” Nodding, she sent him a grateful smile before sliding back under the covers to turn her night light off.
Her heels clicked, exasperatedly, on the porcelain white floor dashing straight through the double doors; her heart pounded furiously against her chest, a violent ache gnawing at her arteries. With her body almost barging into a number of figures, her anxious apologies echoed into the swamped corridors, in which her colleagues shook their tired heads in annoyance. Finally, reaching the top floor she scuttled out of the elevator catching the eyes of Mrs Lee.
"Lab coat, darling, lab coat." Squealing, she unbuttoned the off-white coat, scowling at the permanent pen marks and splashes of iodine before handing it to Mr Kim's assistant. Mrs Lee, threw the coat onto her seat, gesticulating for the young scientist to follow her. After a short knock, the heavy glass door was pushed open; several pairs of eyes darting their way.
"Ah, Miss Cheong! How nice of you to join us!" Hongjoong exclaimed, a teasing glint in his eyes that wanted to make her wipe the smirk of his lips.
"My apologies, Mr Kim, we ran into a problem down at the lab." She explained, a blush forging on her cheeks as a grave set of eyes burned into her skin.
"No worries. This is Miss Cheong, she will be our project lead on the next Kim-Park program." The Kim-Park program was founded by Kim Hongjoong of Kim Pharma and Park Seonghwa of Park Pharmaceuticals. With both companies leading the pharmaceutical industry, both founders decided in order to produce a greater economic boom, and serve an excellent supply chain of mandatory medicine; both of their greatest minds could work together to create poignant breakthroughs in the scientific sector. After all, the two companies had the countries top scientists working for them but together they could very well improve the nature of modern medicine. Hence, today both CEO’s came together for a kick off meeting establishing the blueprint for their next, biggest projects.
"'No worries?'" A derisive voice arose from across the room, where she snapped her head to find a man with wide eyes and thin-rimmed square glasses that sat at the bridge of his long nose, staring back at her. His long, slicked back hair that fell past his ears as he, mockingly, cocked his head to the side in amusement. "I didn't know Kim Pharma tolerated tardiness, Mr Kim." Returning his stare back to Hongjoong, he raised an eyebrow anticipating his answer.
“What was the problem down at the lab?”
“House fire." She retorted, "And I had to assign interns some lab work. Kim Pharma doesn't tolerate tardiness Mr Park but your project manager doesn't seem to be here? We'd have valued him being present at the kick off meeting." His face heated red in embarrassment as he gritted his teeth.
Park Seonghwa was insufferable.
The worst thing about him wasn't even that he was pedantic and scrutinised her work with a keen eye, or that his sharp attention-to-detail left her wanting to force him to chug a beaker of concentrated hydrochloric acid. It was that under his strictly co-ordinated demeanour, he was a beautiful man blessed with an angel's aura. It was that he was tall and that his voice could hypnotise her; send her lunging over a precipice into the expanse of uncharted oceans. At times his allure had her wanting to excuse her pathetic hatred. They bickered at every meeting, every email was sent with 'Regards' rather than 'Kind Regards'. It wasn't long before the bickering had transgressed to shouting in the boardroom as he began to question her teachings, snickering at every intellectual point she made as if she had not graduated from university with the same degree as himself.
"You forgot to add that cisplatin is a cis isomer." He stated, as she sat across from her in his office. This time, she didn't bother to retain herself from rolling her eyes. "A problem, Miss Cheong?"
"Who's reading this report, Mr Park? A high school student or the manufacturer? Any man with common sense and college level chemistry knows that cisplatin is a cis isomer. Do you want me to also write down that it has a square planar shape with a bond angle of 90 degrees?" She snapped, leaning back in her chair with a disgusted look. He smirked taking off his glasses, cleaning the lens with the hem of his blazer sleeve. Dear god. Sedate me.
"No, but you do need to explain how cisplatin works in detail. It only works as cis isomer, not trans. You didn't specify that."
"You're incredibly pedantic." Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his perfectly defined nose, the smirk remained fixed on his lips. "I'm not surprised people are handing in resignations, at your company, every week."
"They can leave if they wish, lazy people don't contribute to Park Pharmaceuticals' success." Oh and he was cocky too. As well as being a pretty face full of wits, Park Seonghwa was also wrought with egotism that made her want to wrangle his gorgeous, slender neck. "Have you ever considered joining our company?" A snicker escaped from her lips which eventually transcended into a laughter that wholly baffled him.
"I'm afraid I'd be a part of that sorry statist-,"
"I'm sorry for being an arsehole, Miss Cheong. Can I make it up to you?" And when she questioned him how he would make it up to her, he proposed the idea of a date. All he wanted was her, regardless of her much she was everything he was not. “Go on a date with me, please.” He blurted, with her feet rooted to the ground and lips falling into a thin line his heart palpitated within his chest. He sought the way her hair fell over her shoulders in light waves having ripped it from its knot after she walked out of the lab. Her pink lips were practically begging to be touched by his, he wanted to soothe the symphony of weary sighs that dispersed from her, and the headache that wracked her brain from his abstruse behaviour. Above all, he was falling in love with Miss Cheong because he despised her in such a paradoxical way. He hated the way she was smarter than him and beautiful in the way that she must have been carved from the clouds of heaven.
It often made her giggle at Hongjoong's astonishment when she handed him the wedding invitation. His excitement when he ripped open the seal to read Seonghwa's name as the groom, dropped the smile from his face as he looked at his college friend.
"You're marrying the enemy?" She shook her head at him, almost scolding him for deeming Seonghwa the 'enemy'. "This isn't what I meant when I said 'Fuck Park Seonghwa." Lobbing the pillow at his head, he dramatically sunk into his sofa as their childlike laughter eructed into the blithe atmosphere.
It had felt like a distant dream now, to be loved and adored in the ways that he once did. To be held as if every touch was their last, to be kissed as if their lips would never meet again and they were lovers in the midst of an age-old war that would tear their nimble hearts apart. To have her husband again and not a dispassionate demon who tore past the gates of hell and inflict all the condemned’s curses on her.
Giving you my all, giving you my everything. Laying my life down at your feet, stripping myself of my own honour just to feel something by you. A glance, a breath, a sigh. You tell me to leave- I don’t mean anything to you anymore.
"Hwa, you could have at least told me you weren't going to go in the first place. Then I wouldn't have gone to the company party." Sat at the foot of the bed, he pulled the jumper over his torso, pulling his trapped hair out from the neck hole. He bit his tongue as his wife rebuked him for his absence, once again. "Do you know how humiliating it was for me to be the only one sat without her husband there?"
"I told you I was going to run late."
"You were four hours late, and you're a half an hour drive to the office! Why didn't you say no, in the first place?" Tearing the earring out from her lobe, she sunk into the chair trying her hardest to not slip into tears; the sympathetic stares of hundreds etched into her memory. How stupid did she look for being dressed so ostentatiously, when the real jewel was not even in her possession? The clatter of pearls emptied into the drawers, hands buried into palm of her hands closing her eyes to relive the myriad of dejection. They never said marriage was this painful. Hard, yes. But not painful. "Hwa, do you love me?" She inquired, turning around in her seat.
"What?"
"It's as simple as you think. Do. You. Love. Me?" Her voice wavered as she asked him, the distant stare in his eyes revealed answers to the questions that she did not want answered.
“If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t have married you. Or given you a beautiful daughter. I miss one, silly, company event and you start throwing a tantrum.”
“This isn’t the first time you’ve completely abandoned me!” Her shout restituted off the thin light blue walls, jumping from her seat at his petty arguments. “You are such a terrible husband and you make me feel trapped in this marriage!”
“And you fucking suffocate me! You suffocate me!” He roared across the room, his strident tone penetrating through her, grazing down the surface of her heart. Rupturing the weak seams that held it together. Stumbling backwards, her palms gripped onto the mahogany table; shaking, biting down her lip to prevent a sob from escaping. "The only time I felt like I could ever breathe, in this marriage, was when I was not with you. When I was at work, or with the others, or just anywhere else. But never with you." Dipping her head, away from him, she shut her eyes as tight as she could.
"Please stop." she whispered, a plead so quiet it almost went unspoken. Yet Seonghwa heard it anyway because no matter how angry he was, their souls were still intertwined. Their hearts beat as one, they were uniform, one whole being. Slowly, he treaded towards her, mimicking the dip of head.
"Why? Can't you take the truth?" he mocked. Full tears pooled in her eyes, her chest burning from holding in her breath. "I should divorce you." He proclaimed, without a stutter. That was enough to break her. An obnoxious wail infiltrated into the void of the room. Was that what he wanted? To provoke some sort of emotion from her to satisfy his ego? He scoffed, before darting from the room-slamming the door shut behind him. Wrought with tears she trudged to her bed, slipping under the covers; sobbing herself unconscious.
"Mummm. Ammiii. Ammaaa." A small voice whispered, the softness soothing the persisting ache in her chest. Holding back the smile ready to break through, she fixed her eyes shut waiting to see what her daughter would do next.
"Dami, let your mother sleep. Come on." The urge to smile had dropped instantaneously, the familiar sense of forlorn gushing into her again; his sweet, addictive voice puncturing holes into her heart.
"I'm hungry." She could hear the pout on her daughter's lips. Huffing, she groaned loudly snapping at her daughters attention, who jumped up and down in excitement of her mother awaking. Reaching out for her child, she picked her up settling her down on her laps. "Mama, I'm hungry." She squeaked.
"Have you washed up yet?" She shook her head. "Ok, let me go to the bathroom first. Then I'll help you."
"I'll help her wash up." Seonghwa offered. Refusing to look at him, she simply gave him a curt nod, the sight of his face wanting to make her erupt into a fit of sobs.
"I promise I'll never make you cry." He had promised, before their marriage. They sat under the stars, the cool wind brushing at their cheeks. Astronomy books sat scattered around her as she attempted to map out constellations in the beaming night.
"And if you do?" She challenged, playfully smirking. With a cute frown he gave her a nudge.
"I promise I won't but in the 0.00001 percent chance that I do, then you should leave me. You’re worth more than the moon to me, and to hurt you is the deadliest sin I can commit." He immediately leaned forward to swoop her into a deep kiss- both of them smiling as they did. The memory of his now-broken promise brought tears to her eyes again. Tightly pressing her palm to her mouth, to hold back her cries, she sucked in yet another breath. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.
Gripping onto the bathroom sink until her knuckles bled white, her knees hit the floor. Nicking the handle of the tap- tears freely flowed down her cheeks as the water rushed through the basin at rapid speed. I want my baby back.
Feeling the heavy burden of a collapsing marriage, her shoulders sunk as she chopped at the onions, preparing their dinner. Dami sat on the stool by the kitchen island, with her mini crayons scribbling over the pictures in the colouring book.
“Mama, why did Appa sleep in my room yesterday?” Scraping the onions into the pan, she grabbed the wooden spoon to stir it.
“He was missing his little princess. He wasn’t causing you trouble, was he?” She teased, sending her a forced smile. God, it was becoming increasingly difficult to stay happy. To smile was to pain her cheeks, they felt more contented relaxed than to uplift and radiate an aura of joy that didn’t seem to exist within her anymore.
“He’s so big, I fell off bed.” She snorted, laughing at her child’s proclamation. It was not long before a thought occurred to her that whenever they slept in the same bed- it was always her that took up the most room-rather than him. A fond memory occurred to her, specifically a night where her body was plastered to his.
“Ah, jagi, can you move a little? I’m up against the window?” Her body shuffled slightly to the left, giving him room to breathe a little bit more. “Thank god.” He huffed out a sigh of relief, her lips fell into a pout- as she rolled further away from him towards the edge of the bed. If space was what he wanted, then she was going to give it to him. Seonghwa’s arm outstretched for her, the cold air battering his skin was no comfort, he wanted her again. A tantalising laugher infiltrated the air, he shuffled closer to her pressing his lips to the top of her head.
“Never mind I need my cuddly bunny.” He sang, nestling his face into the crook of her neck. Now, she couldn’t remember the last time he had held her so close to himself. If anything, he needed the space now and rested just less than a metre apart from her each night.
“It was nice! Appa is a teddy bear.”
“Am I, my princess?” Turning away from the doorway, she opened the cupboard to reach for the spices, shielding her melancholic face away from him. The sweet dissonance of giggling entered her ears, if he had no love to spare for her at least he had enough to spare for his daughter. “Ahem, I’m going on a business dinner tonight.”
“Ok.” Seonghwa watched her, resting his hand on the top of his daughter’s head who went straight back to colouring in the flowers in her book-switching to a pink crayon at that. “What time will you be home?” He shrugged, then quickly noticed that with her back to him she wouldn’t see.
“I don’t know. Don’t wait up.” How could he say that knowing that there wasn’t a night in their marriage where she didn’t sit patiently on the sofa, waiting for him to come back home. Even on the days where he warned her he’d be back a lot later than usual. Regardless, she’d stay plastered to the sofa switching from the tv, to her phone, to a random book-eyes continuously flickering to clock- skipping to the kitchen to shove snacks into her mouth, as she’d never eat without him.
The urge to erupt into a fit of sobs inclined, chewing on her lip violently provided her with enough solace to finish making dinner, feed her daughter and put her to bed. Then at last, when she closed the curtains to her bedroom, a hushed cry escaped her; spending the rest of her night as she did prior, wailing and wailing until fatigue had lulled her weary heart to sleep. The creak of the door went unnoticed to her, Seonghwa crept in; her sleeping figure rested in the bed, the comforter dragged over her head. He sighed, contemplating whether to slip beside her or retreat back to Dami’s room for the night.
This sequence continued for the next few weeks, every night she would cry herself to sleep and Seonghwa would sleep in Dami’s bed. It wasn’t even their room at this point, it was hers with Seonghwa’s things in it-just like her flat pre-marriage. Her room with Seonghwa’s books, few pieces of clothes and odd bits of trinkets. One morning she woke up to find a stack of papers on her nightstand. Fear coursed through her blood, were these the divorce papers that he had suggested to her? Rifling through the papers, her heart soothed as soon as she realised they were just Dami’s crayon drawings. Stick figures of Appa, Amma, and little Dami in the middle. Drawings of flowers, then one just of Amma and Appa, a big heart between them. If only that were true. If only his heart still beat for her the same way hers beat for him.
She heard his voice trail out of the study, as she almost raised her hands to knock and summon him downstairs for lunch. The rapid muttering halted her movements, instead she tentatively pressed her ears against the door to assess the situation.
“Yes, honey, I’ll be there soon…She’s pissing me off right now. I’m trying to get the papers set at the moment…I don’t know about a few more weeks?” Slapping her hand to her mouth, she squeezed her lips shut to prevent any pained sounds from releasing. Honey? There was another woman? And the papers? Was he really, truly, trying to divorce her? Rushing to the bathroom, she slammed the door shut, flipping the tap back open to relive the same endless cycle.
“I’m going on a work trip to Japan, for a week. We have an important business meeting. I might need you take care of Dami by yourself.” His head snapped from up Dami’s unfinished Lego project. She’d fallen asleep when playing, so her father took it upon herself to finish building the set.
“You should have asked me beforehand. You can’t just accept to go offshore, and then give me a week’s notice.” He scolded, playing with the pink block between his fingers.
“I only got told today. I tried to call you whilst I was still in office, but I couldn’t get through to you.” Sighing, his shoulders slumped as he shook his head in disappointment. It appeared that Mrs Park was also refraining important matters from her husband; making decisions of her own that they promised they’d always make together. An uncomfortable silence remained suspended in the tense air, shifting uncomfortably in her spot as she awaited for him to say something else. Even if it was to belittle her, she urged to hear the sound of his voice.
“If you cared enough about me, you’d know I’m busy too.” Chewing down on her lip, she held back a painful sigh. There it is. “We’ll be with my parents for a week while you’re gone. When’s your flight?”
“Sunday night.” Nodding, he scooped up the remaining pieces on the floor pouring them back into the packet before getting up himself. “I’ll pick you up from the airport.”
The work trip to Japan was just as tranquil as she anticipated, the host company was as hospitable as they could be. The days were cut short, the air silent subsiding one into deep thought, even if they denied themselves the pleasures of having to think. With her knees tucked up to her chest, she stared out onto the vast market of skyscrapers, the teeming arena beneath contributing the noises that fell deaf at her ears. She needed to leave the home, its confining airs strangling the lumen of her windpipe. She didn't exactly know what to do now that it was confirmed: Seonghwa did not love her. The declaration was enough to send her into delirium, enough to have her jolting up at night; drowning in cold sweats, preaching his name like a mantra. The flight home did not come soon enough, she boarded the plane with such eagerness and drenched even further in pain when she was assigned the seat next to her colleague and her husband.
Nervously, she dialled in his number once more hurriedly, tapping her feet against the cobbled footpath; her free hand latched onto the sweaty handle of the suitcase. Pick up, pick up, pick up. Being met by the voicemail service was disheartening, wrapping her arms around herself as the wind blew harsh against her skin sending a ripple of goosebumps over her.
"Mrs Park, is your taxi late?" Whipping her head around to find her colleague, she shook her head in dismay. "Do you need a lift? We don't live too far from each other."
Pushing through the large wooden gates of his childhood home, she adjusted the straps of her back pack lifting her head to find the blaring of orange lights through the slits between the window blinds. A small bustle of activity could be heard from the other end, tentatively, her fingers rose to provoke the silver door knocker.
"I'll get the door!" His voice floated through the surface, reaching out to caress the aches on her skin bruised wholly by him. As soon as their eyes met across the doorway, the smile was wiped clean from his lips. “Oh god, I’m sorry, it had completely slipped my mind-,”
“You don’t forget things, Hwa. The truth is: it didn’t slip from your mind, you just didn’t care.” You haven’t cared about me for a very long time. You haven’t loved me in a long time. I am no longer your wife but just Dami’s mother, to you. Though some sort of vile emotion named fear had prevented her from saying those words, becoming lodged at the crux of her throat, floating on the tip of her tongue.
The worst thing was, he didn’t say anything. He was silent, unwilling to reckon against her and fight for their marriage again. When did he become so passive? Up until now, when was there a day in their relationship when he didn’t fight to keep her at his side? Trudging into the household, the warmth lacerated her skin, taking off her shoes as the pattering of small feet came her way. A small body engulfed her larger frame, the delightful giggles of her daughter infiltrated her ears as her mother finally came home to her.
"We ate sooo much food. We had tteokbokki, dakgalbi, ramen. Halmeoni tried to make me eat yaksik but it was nasty." Letting out a tired moan she fell onto the floorboard, Dami crawling on top of her, as her mother-in-law stuffed her with enough food to last her a century.
"Ugh, Dami. Please get off Amma, my tummy is going to explode."
"Halmeoni! Amma ate too much!"
"Your Amma didn't eat enough!" Eomeonim shouted back from the kitchen. Seonghwa ambled into the room settling a cup of green tea in front of her, whilst simultaneously lifting Dami from her stomach. There was an uncomfortable silence amongst them as their daughter, oblivious to the obvious tension between her parents, entertained them nevertheless by dancing around the room and singing. He left the room in between to see to his mother in the kitchen. Feeling terrible for leaving her to tend to the mound of dishes, she carried behind walking straight into the enemy's territory.
“Are you stupid, boy? How could you even suggest a divorce?” She hissed. “It was only yesterday when you came running to me, with your eyes so full of love. Where is that love now?”
“People change.” He deadpanned, hot tears fulfilled her eyes, blurring her vision as she rushed back to the front room.
“We’re going, now!” She ordered, a pout on her daughter’s face grazed the surface of her heart. She couldn’t stand here, and hear her husband declare that he didn’t love her anymore. She couldn’t watch the love of her life slip from the tips of her fingers, whilst she sunk beneath the earth under her feet. She grabbed his car keys, from his jacket. “We’re going home, eomeonim. I need to go into the office, tomorrow. Thank you so much for taking care of Dami.” Kissing the top of her mother’s head, she slipped on her shoes before carrying Dami out of the home. Seonghwa followed hot on her heels.
“Where do you think you’re going at this time of night?”
“Home, Hwa.” The lock clicked out of the place, she jerked open the car door to fasten her daughter into the seat ignoring her cries and pleads to stay at her grandmother’s. “Dami! Quiet!” She roared, the same way Seonghwa would shout at her for nights on end for doing nothing other than being his wife.
“Stop acting like a child and come back inside right now!” He commanded.
“I won’t, Hwa. Because the next time I go back in and let myself be hurt by you, I’ll have no one to blame but me.” He fell quiet, swallowing the heavy lump in his throat. “I am the still the girl who would wait nights for her husband to come home to her. But you are no longer the boy that would walk straight into her arms.” Choking on her sobs, she jerked open the car door to slip inside, her daughter calling out for her father. After all, they were the same woman. Both so utterly in love with the same man that could not love them both in the ways one could dream of being in love. For being in love with him was asking for annihilation, his devotion unreachable like the stars studded in the midnight sky. Was he not made from the stars? An angel borne from light, whose banner was a celestial plane that would diminish the human essence in a heartbeat? Steering the car out of his driveway, Seonghwa stood plastered to the floor a single tear dropping from his eye as he felt his soul meander away from him.
That night, when they reached home, Dami was tight in her arms after having cried the whole journey home from missing her father. Eventually, exhaustion overpowered her and she reluctantly slept in her mother’s arms. She was so sure now that her daughter thought she was the villain for ripping her away from her father. Nuzzling her small face deeper into her mother’s neck, she felt her bottom lip tremble as she called out for her father.
There was no need to frantically run to the post box every time a letter slipped through, meeting the ground with a loud thud. Though, she did it anyway, with little Dami scuttling behind her as if she was expecting a letter herself though deep down Mrs Park knew that she wanted her Appa to come home. It had been a month having not heard back from him. No messages or calls. After work, she ventured over to his office only to be turned away by his assistant; catching a quick glance at his shadow through his window.
“I have to make an appointment to see my own husband?” She uttered through gritted teeth, though the woman in front merely nodded, disinterestedly. “When is Mr Park next available?” The jarring clatter against the keyboard gnawed at her ear drums, annoyance fulfilling her.
Fuck this. Rushing to the handle of his door, she keeled it open storming inside-the loud slam of the door jumping him up from where he sat in his seat. The assistant rushed behind, squawking about how she had to leave.
“Cilla, it’s ok. Go do your job.” He ordered, softly with his eyes fixated on his wife. She didn’t expect him to look this way, the clean, composed Seonghwa now with tousled hair and small dark circles under his eyes. Eyes bloodshot red as if he had been crying for weeks on end, exhaustion piling in them. His sunken face as if he had not eaten for weeks-Seonghwa, not eating? The same man who used to kiss her hands and go for seconds, claiming there must have been some magic in them for she made such delicious food?
“Dami is getting upset. She misses her Dad. The least you could is come home and see her, so she doesn’t think that her father abandoned her too.”
“I’ve been busy-,”
“You’ll always be busy, Hw-Seonghwa. But not busy enough that you can’t spare an hour or two to see your daughter.” She spat, storming straight out of his office, sending the assistant a dirty look on her way to the elevator.
“Appa!” Dami’s animated tone weighed down her father’s heart, his arms wide open as she jumped into them. Fixing her spot by the kitchen doorway she watched as her husband played with her daughter. After a few hours, when they had put Dami to sleep, they sat with each other in the front room Seonghwa pulling out an envelope from his work satchel.
“The-uh- papers. Divorce papers.” A pang struck through her, hands shaking as she reached out for them.
“As her mother, I’ll have custody over her. You should be allowed to see her every week, so maybe the weekend?” Her voice quivered, slightly as she opened up the seal of the envelope, its woody scent wafting up her nose. With little energy, to pull out the form- she settled it onto the coffee table. “We’ll move to my mother’s house…” She trailed off biting down on her lip as Seonghwa closed his eyes shut.
“That’s fine. You can just post it to the lawyer. I’d like to see Dami at my office next week, could you do that?” Nodding diligently, she owed him that much. He’d be counting down the days soon until he’d rarely see his daughter. How would they tell her Amma and Appa weren’t as happy as they were in the drawings?
Her eyes scoured over the woman sat in front of him, as she opened the door to his office. God, she was beautiful with her long, black, silky hair, siren eyes, her chic office look. Everything she was not, though she had managed to pick herself up and put a lot more effort than she usually did with her fitted suit, hair tied back into a sleek bun-held up by the closest pen she could find on her dressing table since her silver claw clip was nowhere in sight. Was she the woman he was going to leave her for? She couldn’t even blame him at this point, why keep something expired when you could throw it away and have something new? Gripping onto the straps of her handbag, she slowly let go of her daughter’s hand who ran to her father’s side.
“Gaeun, this is my wife Mrs Park.” Timidly, she shook her hand. Gaeun saw Mrs Park as an intimidating woman, with her silent face as she ambled into the room with her daughter, her neat hair, pointed heels and tailored skirt that accentuated her curves. She matched Mr Park’s daunting presence perfectly, and of course her intelligence was known to all as well as her insistence to remain at his rivals’ company. “Dear, this is Gaeun- she’s one of the project leads on the next Kim-Park collaboration.”
“I see.” Her head picked up, giving both parties a short nod before leaving the office. She reckoned there was enough to time to make it to her own company and break down in the toilets before beginning the work day.
The rain thundered down from the sky on a solemn afternoon, the clatter of dishes being returned to the cupboards entailing the home; followed the thundering knock at the door. Peeking into the peep hole, she swung the door open, she pulled her husband in immediately rushing around him as he jerked off his shoes.
“Into the shower now.” Without hesitation, he grabbed his clothes from her bedroom before soundlessly making his way into the shower. She only assumed he had come to their home for the signed papers, it had been a while since he’d given them to her; though all she could think about was the way her pen could not even touch the sheet. The door to the study creaked open, as she bit her lip with the unsigned line glaring back at her.
“I haven’t- I haven’t signed the paper, yet.” His breath hitched in his throat, inching closer and closer to her. With the tickle in her throat pervasive, the pen neared the line her heart shattering with every second that her hands rebuked the damned sheet in front. How did she even do her signature?
“I’m sorry that you fell in love with me. I’m sorry that you married me. I’m sorry that I’m not enough. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be the perfect wife for you.” She blurted, the pen falling from her fingers onto the table. He called out her name, drawing forward arms outstretched to encircle her into him. To hold her as tight and as true as she deserved. To fulfil her of kisses that he had deprived her of, to ease her of her pain. Though she stopped him in his tracks, with a palm to censor his movements. “No, Hwa. I haven’t been enough for you for a very long time. I must have done something wrong for you to hurt me like this. I must have done something much worse than what you’ve done to me. I just wished you spoke to me than gave me this stupid sheet and trying to end us in a single heartbeat.” An agonising wail left her lips, as she dropped to the floor tucking up her knees to her chest. Her lungs burned, desperate for air running her fingers through her hair as she slowly breathed out to ease the throbbing sensation loitering at her temples. He sunk to the floor with her, engulfing her frame within his. His jumper so soft, drenched in the scent that she adored. The same scent that he wore when they first met. Her bottom lip quivered again.
“You did nothing, it was all me. I forgot who I was, I forgot it was you who gave me life.” Her tears stained his shirt, he held her closer to his body. “I came to here to change your mind. I didn’t want you to sign those papers. I was so scared you had.” Their bodies rocked back and forth as the painful sound of her sobbing gradually declined.
“I couldn’t do it.” She whispered, her throat sore from this prolonging nightmare. Kissing away her tears, his fingers gently tilted up her head so he could bore his eyes in her beautiful ones. “I just need to know if there’s another woman. If there is, and you love her the same way you loved me, you can have her.”
“There was never another woman. It was always you I swear.” He pledged, as his own tears rushed down his face tickling his jawline before pattering carefully on his sweater. “I was just a poor excuse of a man, a poor excuse of a husband. I admit that I felt like you’d never leave me, but when I realised you really could it hurt me so much.” Drawing lines over his sweatshirt she listened to the sweet sound of his voice whisper into her ears.
“I’ll be a better man. I’ll work on me, and you can just keep on being a great wife and mother.” Their lips met in a frenzy of emotions, their palpitating hearts enamouring their befallen entities as passionate kisses filled the wounds that penetrated through them. His hands snaked around her waist, as hers ran through his long hair emitting a husky groan out of him. “Do you think Dami would like a sibling?” He joked, before being met by whack to the back of his head, they deepened the kiss before she happily rested her head against his chest.
“Maybe, but not now. Right now, you need to come home to us.”
“It’s just you and me now. Nothing’s going to hurt you baby.”
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cheong meaning 'quiet' 'eomeonim' means mother-in-law (husband's side) 'halmeoni' means grandma
A/N: i'm sorry if the ending seems a bit rushed, i'm going on some meds soon and i have no idea how shit i'm gonna feel while on them. wanted to update in case i have no energy to release something else for a while😖 Hope you guys liked this one! ✨✨
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