#the way all of his cards are so ANGSTY too???
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satoruxx · 7 hours ago
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OMFGG CALEB IS SOOOO HOTTTT AND SEXYYYY like i started the update (it took so long to update i needed like THIRTY GB of space i am not even lying and i had to delete and re-download the game like 4 times and the first time is almost downloaded 100% it said "update failed" so lowk i crashed out, BUTT i was able to finally download it) and was excited bc duh?? and lord I WAS NOT EXPECTING THAT WHAT????!?!?! LIKE RAFAYEL IS MY BABY BUT!! IM SORRY!! CALEB IS ON THE SAME LEVEL NYEOWW
i actually LOVE his freaking evol it is so freaking cool and he is so??? HOTTT ASFFF!! Infold knew what they were doing when the gave us a man IN UNIFORMMMMM!! his outfit is so freaking cool and i am in love with how his pilot hat sits on his head I AM EXPLODING
i will be honest i wasnt expecting tons, like i knew he was hot BUT HE IS MAKING ME GO CRAZYYYYYY COME TO ME MY WINTER SOLDIERRR
i love his voice oml and the way he texts and talks?? idk it's so >:) coded and i am in lurrrv. anyways this was a word vomit but fr i needed to go crazy abt him to someone 💗💗
UGH HI LOVELY !!!! FIRST OF ALL THANK YOU FOR COMING HERE TO YAP BC I FR FELT LIKE I WAS LOSING MY MIND WITH HOW MUCH I HAVE TO SAY!!!! second of all i stalked your page and i am now adopting you as a moot so hello new mootie :33
ok anyways...
(BRUH the only downside of lnds is the fucking storage that's why i've only got it on my ipad... BUT I'M GLAD IT FINALLY WORKED FOR YOU!!!) ooooh okok so you're a raf girlie then?? and caleb now too LMAO!!! as someone who has been a caleb girlie since day one i absolutely knew he was gonna shoot to the top for me... but it's come to the point where i can't even pick who's my fave anymore?? zayne and sylus used to be the easy answer but now i'm just like... zayne? sylus? CALEB?
i knew he was gonna be one of my faves since the start bc i will ALWAYS eat up the childhood friends to lovers trope.. and then bonus points when the trailer dropped and they revealed he was morally grey with yan tendencies like.. yeah i'm sat...
YOU'RE SO RIGHT HIS EVOL IS JUST IKAHDKHDAKLFHA !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the way he made that one guy fall to his knees was so fucking hot i almost drooled... AND YEAH THEY KNEW A MAN IN UNIFORM WOULD SEND US INTO A CRISIS LIKE OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!! honestly i love seeing how people are just getting their expectations blown away and falling for him so much harder than they thought they would... like yes pls come join us in the caleb fanclub !!!
AND YEAH BABE YOU'RE SO RIGHT???? idk why there's so much hate on his voice?? i LOVE the way he sounds so boy next door!!! it makes it that much easier to be surprised when he says out of pocket shit :> his texts also feel sooooo natural mhm.. very bf coded indeed
ALSO NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR WORD VOMIT BC IT'S VERY LIKELY THAT I ALSO HAVE WORD VOMIT TO ADD!!! PLS COME AND YAP WITH ME WHENEVER YOU WANT LOVELY (ESPECIALLY ABOUT CALEB BC HE IS THE ONLY THING ON THE BRAIN RN)
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tonycries · 7 months ago
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Golden Boy - G.S.
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Synopsis. Falling right back in love with the cult leader you’re supposed to kíll? Happens more often than you’d think.
Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader 
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, friends/lovers to enemies to lovers, oral (fem receiving), facesítting, creampíe, slight Gojo x Reader, running away from it, Suguru is so SOOO in love still, unprotected, spítting, kinda angsty, hurt/comfort, mentions of bIood and kníves, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 4.4k
A/N. I was listening to fantasmas while writing this so take that how you will LMAO.
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The difficult part, surprisingly, wasn’t infiltrating Geto Suguru’s Time Vessel Association. No, a few faux tears, a decoy curse, and you were in - stepping through his grandiose hideout. The difficult part was convincing yourself that you were here to kill him. 
Something that utterly foolish little part of yourself still had trouble believing - even when you had a knife to his throat. 
“Any last words?” you spit, muffled through your mask, thankful for the way it covers up just how much your voice shakes. Maybe because of the way his lips curl into a familiar smile, maybe from his cool dagger pressing against the back of your neck.
Seconds away from a bloodbath. 
You don’t know if you’re breathing - or if he is either. Eyes locked on the way Sugur- your target only raises his hand up, up, up - getting ready to strike. To kill. Only you’d get him first and-
Snip!
You’re not dead. But you might as well have been, because your mask falls onto the tatami mat with a deafening clatter. 
“You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.”
It’s hard not to remember. 
“You don’t have any right to say that.” your knees tighten around where you had him straddled to the ground. Your hand pinning one of his down, blade digging deeper into Suguru’s pale neck - eyeing the slow, steady drop of blood that beads down it. “Didn’t think you’d remember me, either.”
With your mask now no longer on your face, you could traitorously take in that relaxed grin - as if your life wasn’t in his hands right now. As if he didn’t care. 
Suguru’s hair was much longer now, splayed out across the floor inkily. Circling around his broad shoulders, around the eyes that were just a bit harder than they were ten years ago. And yet, you catch the way they flicker briefly with something so raw as he whispers gently, “How could I ever forget my first love?”
So quiet that you could’ve blamed it on your imagination - and you wish you did. 
It’s so unfair. 
Unfair how you let out a gasp, despite yourself. Unfair how you were the best sword wielder that Jujutsu had to offer, yet your fingers tremble on your knife. Heart stuttering at the mere sight of the way his eyes crinkle with the beginnings of a smile. Pleading, like all he could see was you from what felt like a thousand lifetimes ago. 
Those golden years. Back when rare Susanoomon cards were what you’d fight over, and the only stains he’d wipe off were from the grassy grounds of Jujutsu High, still faint underneath the encrusted blood on that uniform nestled away deep in his wardrobe.
You manage to grit out, “Shut up. You left me- us.”
“I did.”
Like it was all he wanted to see. 
“You never loved me.”
“I do.”
Your voice is shrill at this point, words stumbling over each other. “You’ve massacred more people than you’ve saved.”
Suguru wastes no time denying - or in any niceties. Looking right into your absolutely crazed eyes as he answers, “I have.” And his answer rings so hollow and emotionless in your ears, cold-blooded. Absolutely nothing like the boy you remembered. The one that would laugh and steal you away to take you around campus on his bicycle, all because the next class was “too far”.
“I- fuck.” You place both hands on the hilt of your blade, distantly registering the way that Suguru lets his own drop onto the floor. “I should kill you- I should kill you right now.”
Just one flick of your wrist. Fast and simple. 
In and out - exactly like you’d been ordered to. 
“And to die by your hand would be a death that someone like me doesn’t deserve.”
You both jolt when your knife hits the ground - as if neither of you were expecting it. And before you can stop yourself, you’re fisting his thick robes, pulling Suguru’s face up closer to yours. Mere inches away. 
“Then- then I’ll-” you choke, a hand coming up to dig into the sides of his milky neck, leaving neat, red indents on his skin. “I’ll kill you with my own hands, Suguru.”
And he’s known you for years - would never admit it, but was by your side for only half as long as he’d watched over you. 
Saw - only from a distance -  those big fat tears you cried at graduation, the curve of your lips as you pulled a very reluctant Nanami into a hug outside his new office building. The steely look in your eyes meeting Satoru’s much softer one, telling him first how you’re going into teaching. And the smile on your face when you thought of who else might have, too. If he’d gotten the chance.
Always hidden.
Never so close to this frenzied glint in your gaze, a tiny sob threatening to escape your lips. Never like this - and yet, he never thinks you’ve looked so beautiful. 
But what would someone like him know about beauty, anyway?
You flinch as Suguru reaches a hand up to thumb away the furrow between your brows, catching on the single, stray tear sitting at your cheekbone. Whispering - so low that you involuntarily crane your head closer to hear - “Still such a crybaby.”
“And you’re still going to be the death of me.”
Soft - Suguru’s lips are as soft as you imagined. And it’s not exactly the tender, picture-perfectly romantic first kiss his teenage self dreamt up with you, but fuck if he wasn’t going to remember this like it was. 
Perfect. 
Pretty lips smothering yours, all slow and sensual. Drinking in those deliciously breathless gasps of yours as he sucks on your candied lips. 
You gasp, “Suguru.” and it comes out teary. Making you finally register the wetness rolling down your cheeks, glistening against the dim lighting. You tighten your grip around his neck, “This won’t fix-”
“I know.” Fuck, does he know better than anyone else. 
A hand slides up your forearm, the other cupping your face to pull you closer. He’s running his hot tongue along your cheek, pooling your salty tears on his lips. “But let me make you forget - if just for tonight. Please.”
The only answer Suguru gets is your fingers leaving his neck, dancing feather-light across his sculpted shoulders to slide under his robe. Feeling the smooth plane of his pecs underneath your palm, that traitorously thundering heartbeat he wishes he could slow down. “Kiss me.”
“Fuck.” he pants into your open mouth. The sight of your glossy, slightly puffy lips having him surge forward to reattach his with yours with a pained grunt. “God- jus’ a bit more, my love.”
Again. And again and again- like he was addicted. 
He’d always been, with you, anyway.
You let out a sinful sound of his name when Suguru kisses down your neck, lips slotting over your racing pulse. Throbbing and so real under his lips, remembering how he used to feel this song under his arms long before. 
“Oh- shit.” you moan, when his now rougher - larger - hands sneak underneath your crumpled shirt, deftly unbuttoning. Unbuckling. Impatient. “Sugu-”
A hoarse groan leaves him, only spurring him to all but rip the rest of your uniform off your body faster. 
And at the first sight of you clad in nothing but your panties, Suguru’s kiss-bitten lips are falling slack. Brows shooting up into the dark strands of hair sticking to his forehead now, “Been missing out, hm?” He’s dipping a hand down to run the back of his index along your clothed, puffy folds. Up and down. “Really been-” Heart clenching when he remembers the way Satoru now looks at you with a familiar glint. One he knew all too well. “-missing out, my love.”
You’re only trailing your fingers along his cheek - his neck, grazing over that little mark from your blade. He groans - maybe from your touch, probably from the way you’re dragging your cunt across that massive bulge underneath you. “Please, Suguru. Wan’ you.” 
And if Geto Suguru has spent ten years denying himself, surely he could sacrifice it for the way he lifts your stuttering, sloppy hips up so easily. All the way up until they were hovering over his mouth, hot breath hitting your clothed cunt. 
“Wanna taste you.” he groans, spying on the way your slick beads through your panties. “Wan’ see if you’re as hah- sweet as I imagined. Please.”
And he’s obsessed with the way you’re sinking yourself down so gently, cock jumping at the thought of you afraid you’d suffocate him - as if you didn’t have your blade at his throat just minutes ago.
“Fuuuck, don’t worry, pretty.” he groans, soft darting to lick at the juices smeared across your inner thighs. “Some more now. Put it all on me, I can take it- fuck-”
Your syrupy sweet cunt has Geto losing whatever’s left of his fucking restraint, dark eyes rolling to the back of his head because you were so sweet. So pretty looking down at him with your glassy eyes. So addictive. He moans, chest heaving as he breathes in your essence. “What happened to that feist from earlier? Gonna hafta do a lil’ more than that now.”
“B-but-”
It’s at this moment you realize that at any given moment Suguru could’ve easily taken the upper hand. A hand of his pulls down your hesitant hips, swollen lips against your covered ones in such a filthy kiss. 
He hums into your folds, bunching your panties between them. “Mmm. Shit- jus’ like I imagined.” Hot tongue dipping just underneath the flimsy fabric to feel out your sloppy entrance, “Better, even. Jus’ look how well you’re taking me, pretty.”
But you don’t - too scared to find out that you’d like the sight more than you should. How you wished you could go back to the golden days where it didn’t matter - wasn’t a matter of life and death. And something else entirely. 
And this dilemma has Suguru’s brows furrowing, sharp canines lightly nipping at one of your swollen folds. Wanting to see how it’s him - despite everything, it’s still him making you feel this way. “None of that now.”
RIP!
With this you have to look down, a desperate whine leaving your stupid mouth at the fucking sinful sight down below. Your panties now a tattered excuse in between Suguru’s teeth, baring them with such a devilish grin right up at you. 
“See?” he spits out the fabric onto the floor beside him, half-lidded eyes peering up at you so sultry. Looking right at you as his tongue lolls out, spreading your bare, needy folds shamefully. “Isn’t this much better?”
“Hngh- fuck, yes-” you slide your fingers through his now-messy hair, falling out of that half-bun. Jolting on top with each push of his tongue past that feeble ring of resistance, the lewd squelches leaving you with each graze of the wet muscle against your walls. “Shit- Suguru it feels too good. So deep ngh-”
He swats a hand against your ass, making you sit your slutty hips down deeper, all the way till Suguru’s jaw was grinding so greedily against your cunt. Tongue bullying past your folds in and out in and out in and-
“God- hah-” he’s pulling away to gasp deep lungfuls of air - secondary, to the way he was back immediately to making out so hotly with your tight pussy. “Mmm fuck. This cute lil cunt is so needy. S’like you’re trynna suck my tongue off.” Thumb reaching up to draw slow, languid circles that have you throwing your head back. “So perfect.”
Your delirious mouth is dropping open, body moving before your mind as you strain to reach your hand behind. Trembling. Shaky when you manage to cup Suguru’s aching erection. 
“G-guess m’not the only one ah- needy, hm?” you smirk, having him bucking and spitting out harsh little profanities with each rub of your palm down his drenched length. 
Suguru doesn’t give you a response - because his fingers are speaking on his behalf. Dipping into your sloppy hole, locating your g-spot, as if on instinct. He’s milking your pretty cunt while he roams for those sweet spots. Lips muffling around your throbbing clit, “You’re always right, my love. You always were.”
And his words are so gentle - mouth so sloppy. Squelches so obscene. 
Nose pressing up at the top of your abdomen, cheeks hollowing wetly around the sensitive nub. Letting your juices drip all the way down his chin, his jaw, dangerously close to that cut on his neck. 
The hand sliding back and forth across the swollen outline of his cock had Suguru get more frenzied. Faster. Like it was his personal mission to make you cum on his tongue before he fucking passed out. 
Penetrating your gummy hole with both his fingers and his tongue, spreading it open more. And it’s all you can do to keen, “Oh- oh my god.” Riding Suguru’s pretty face harder. “Shit- m’close, Suguru.”
“Always right.” he gasps, swiping his tongue faster across your clit. “Always perfect” Alternating between squeezing back into your hole, your sweet spots. Stretching out your gummy walls as far as they’d go. “Always made f’me.” Assaulting it with both his fingers and his tongue. Again. And again and again and- “Jus’ wish I got to have you sooner.”
His words make you snap your eyes up from his mean mouth to meet his gaze, devouring you as greedily and depraved as his tongue. They make your thighs burn with the effort to drag your sloppy pussy faster.
They make you cum - shaking, crying out little mewls of “Ngh- fuck. M’cumming m’cumming m’cumming.”
The way your voice is breaking at the end of each moan has Suguru’s cock straining so painfully against his trousers. One hand firmly on your waist, arching you deeper to tongue you through your high in ways he’s only ever dared to imagine. 
Ways he’s selfishly hoped only he could - even after all these years, the sight of any other man looking at you wrong having his irritation flaring. 
“S’right.” his voice is sending stars bursting behind your lids, tongue even worse. Having you pleading and so sensitive. “I got you, my love. Give it t’me.” Messy - not as forgiving as he’d like to be. “Give it alllll to me.”
And you do - all but smothering Suguru’s eager tongue with all your sweet juices. Ones he’s lapping up happily, tilting his head back as far as it’d go on the floor, letting your heady slick fill up his throat. His pussydrunk lips let out a hiss, both at the burn of that cut on his neck, and the way you’re desperately pulling your hips back. 
Too overstimulated. Too fucking sensitive. Too much - but it would never be enough for Suguru. 
“Please, Suguru.” you sob at the way your limp hips are being pulled back by a needy Suguru. “M’too sensitive. I- fuck-” He’s only lapping at your quivering cunt leisurely, smirk prominent against your swollen folds. 
And it’s all you can do to deliriously slip a hand underneath his robes, a desperate attempt to keep whatever shred of sanity you have left. Fingers feeling down his unfairly toned abs, the tufts of hair at his pelvis, reaching-
“Oh fuck!” Your heavy eyes admire the way Suguru arches into your touch in surprise - like he couldn’t help himself. Eyes flying open, glossy, plump lips curling into a disbelieving grin, “Ya really are made f’me, huh?” 
That’s all it takes for Suguru to head to your lewd whims, bruising fingers on your hips finally loosening to let you sit your sloppy cunt back down on his lap - except, this time, you were seated directly on his rock-hard cock. Pussy lips spreading around his length to just soak him. 
“Oh, my love.” He sits up, splaying you out so prettily on his lap. “How I’ve missed you.”
You don’t even register the way you’re raising your head up to meet Suguru’s - not until he spits. Once. Twice. Straight onto your awaiting tongue that you didn’t even realize you were sticking out, saccharine sweet saliva making such a mess when he’s crashing his lips into yours. 
“Yeahh, like that. Kiss me like that.” he slurs against your mouth, drunk off both sets of your sweet lips. Getting out through wet, sloppy pecks. “How I wish I had you sooner.”
You can feel your heart thumping so wildly against your ribcage, matching the needy, needy staccato of Suguru’s cock throbbing between your puffy folds. And, well, you really can’t be blamed for the way you break the kiss to look down and oh-
Oh Suguru notices that furrow between your brows, kissing away the nervous little wobble in your lower lips as he grunts, “God, you’re killin’ me.” 
Fuck. Killing him?
You were the one sent in for the kill, but it seems you won’t be making it out here alive. 
Because Suguru was so big, girth rubbing up against your thighs. So angry and heavy, smearing hot precum over his abs, your cunt, adding to add to the absolute mess. Long enough that you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk out of here - which, honestly, Suguru would’ve preferred. To keep you with him forever. 
To have you always mewling so prettily when he’s dragging his fat head down your sensitive slit. To have his name - and only his name - leave your bruised lips when he’s asking, “Who’s got you this wet?” 
You’re so cockdrunk already that you’re groaning mindlessly, “You- Suguru-”
“No, that’s not what you call me.” 
And it takes you a few, long seconds to understand what he’s saying, all the while trying to focus with the leaky tip being pressed past your swollen folds. Slow. Torturous. Hitting you so violently at the same time he slips past that first, slutty ring of muscle. 
“Sugu!”
A blinding grin splits across Suguru’s absolutely fucked-out face, brows furrowing together in ecstasy. “That’s more hah- like it.” Not having heard that familiar little nickname - one of your many - fall from your lips since high school - one that makes a heart he forgot he had grow five sizes too large. “Now, just take me-” Hips bucking up, so strong and ruthless. “-like I know you can, okay?”
Over and over. 
You can’t let out anything but barely-lucid whines at this point, letting Suguru sink in inch by fucking inch. Your walls stretched out so perfectly to take his sheer size. But the stretch- oh, the stretch.
Fuck, it has you clawing at Suguru’s exposed shoulders, fingers leaving angry, red marks down the muscles. An obscene ah! ah! ah! leaving your lips with each time he reels his hips back, only to bully his aching cock inside until he physically couldn’t.
“Hngh- Sugu, s’too big-” You buck your hips down in shallow, tentative grinds to meet his filthy method of fitting in. “Too- much. Didn’t expect you to be so mean-”
“The sorcerer that hah- held a knife to the infamous Geto Suguru’s neck-” he groans, hands groping your ass to move you further down his massive cock. To watch the way your sloppy entrance was stretching out so much to suck him up. “-can take this too, right? I know you can.” He reaches a deft thumb around to toy with your pretty clit, making your cunt relax like the good girl she is. Fucking up deeper, just a bit more mean. “You- can-”
Several things happen at the tail end of Suguru’s sentence - he’s finally fitting in all in one go. With a calculated, harsh thrust up into your poor cunt, your ass is kissing his heavy balls, pussy rubbing against the hair at his hilt. So full and so much.
And Suguru knows he just might not see heaven - but shit, does he feel like he’s there right now. The feeling so good that both of you letting out mingling gasps of pleasure. 
Your back falling onto the now soiled mats like such animals, the other not far behind.
“You alright, my love?” Suguru hums against your throat when you’re managing to adjust somewhat to the stretch, aware enough to kiss the palm resting protectively underneath your head - making sure you don’t hurt yourself.
You bat your teary lashes, “Never been better, Sugu.”
And something about that makes him remember. 
Remember the way you’d tell him the exact same thing when you fought with curses too strong for you - coming back to the dorms all battered and bruised, but alive. Flashing him that addictive grin, and a crooked thumbs up, “Never been better, Sugu. Gold, actually.”
His golden girl.
Shaking away the tightness at his throat, Suguru instead focuses on wrapping your trembling legs around his toned waist. Tight.
“Sh-shit- you’re milkin’ me so good, fuck-”
Abs burning as he just drags his cock along your plushy walls, keeping your legs held wide open for him. So tight - like you were sucking the fucking soul out of him. Making sure to angle his hips in just the way that’ll have your eyes tearing at the way he was massaging all your sweet spots. 
And sure enough - “O-oh my god-” you breathe, and shit, it was so hard to speak. Suguru’s cock too big, too depraved. Speeding up with every ram of his hips into a steady, mean pace. “Jus’ like that, fuck-”
“Mhm?”
You paw at his free hand settled by the side of your neck, trailing it down, down, down - rings and all - to the part of your stomach you could feel his thick tip hitting. A slight bulge, abusing your cervix over and over, “Here-”
“-s’where I belong.”
Your brows raise at his interjection, and you swipe away the long locks of hair partially covering Suguru’s face, legs tightening around his hips as you take a long, hard look. He repeats, “S’where I belong. Where ngh- you belong.”
Like some deep, dark part of him was trying to fuck out any and every doubt about this out of you - as if you’d have any - Suguru’s rolling his hips harder into yours. All the way until it almost hurt - until the sting of his twitching balls against your ass felt permanent, fingerpads pressing down so hard on your stomach. 
Lips searing against yours, punctuating each word with a jagged, rough thrust. “Because you sh-shouldn’t be ah- here. You shouldn’t be-” He drags you deeper onto his dick like some ragdoll, fingers frenzying on your clit. “-with me.”
Words slurring and as sloppy as his hips now. 
“Wh-why fuck- why wouldn’t I be?”
“Heh, you forgot?” Suguru spits out a chuckle, pushing you further and further up the mat with how bruising his hips were hitting yours. Alternating between marking your cervix - your g-spot - your gummy walls. “Forgot how I told ya to live a better life than this?” Everything and anything. Hips smacking so loud, echoing in symphony with those melancholy words he parted with so long ago. “How I told you to hngh- find a-another? Live a long life? To be happy?”
Now that Suguru was talking, it was like he couldn’t stop. Like a damn had been broken - both with his words and his movements. The curve of his dick drives you wild, veins molding your cunt into their shape. 
Gritting his teeth to hold back the way his drenched balls squeeze so painfully, biting down on your lower lip. “You’re s-supposed to kill me.” A drop of sweat splashing down on your cheek, “To kill me and maybe you’ll be hah- fuck mine in another universe. But not this one.” It’s like he’s out of control now, “Never this one. You can have anybody else.”
And suddenly you’re having a flashback to just a week prior, to an uncharacteristically solemn Satoru telling you words you should’ve been happy to hear. Quiet, and unassuming. Ones you knew that had you heard them before knowing Suguru, you’d have jumped into his arms - exactly how he hoped you would, the day of his departure. 
Chuckling at you being such a “crybaby” about him leaving. After all, this was just meant to be, right?
But no.
Instead, you’re here. Bunching Suguru’s beautiful, glossy hair curtaining the sides of your head, into a ponytail. Difficult - with how he was getting faster. Harder. Just ravaging your hole until you were gaping and breathless.
And yet, arms trembling and limp, you still manage to reveal the boy you fell in love with - the one you could never forget. From the flush on his pretty face, to the twisted, sad curve of his mouth. And the eyes that bore into yours like they were searching for the same thing. Smiling, for the first time since you entered this place, “How could I ever want anyone else, Sugu?”
The hand on your stomach is cupping your adorable face so softly - and it’s hard to believe those hands have killed. Betrayed.
Like they were capable of doing anything but as Suguru swipes the single tear glistening down your cheek, “Still a crybaby, huh, my love?”
And then you cum - and Suguru isn’t too far behind. 
It’s just a flash of hot white, tingles running down your spine - all the way to the thick, creamy base soon forming around his wildly twitching cock. 
And it’s so good. Too good that all you can do it scream out his name, letting him do anything - and you were glad all he did was fuck you so mercilessly through your high. So violent. Addictive. 
Vision blurry, mouth sagging open for Suguru to press intimate little kisses along the corners of your mouth. Whispering sweet praises as your cunt sucks him up so good. So sinfully milking him for everything he’s worth. 
Taking in rope after rope of thick cum that warms your gummy walls from the inside, overfilling just enough for it to dribble down into the mat below in an obscene little pool. Smearing down your thighs, his balls. Heavenly. 
His heaven.
And in the haze of it all, Suguru imagines that you’ll reach for your knife again, press it back against the curve of his exposed neck. He imagines you’ll laugh in his face, tell him what a great whim this was but you had to get back to your job, turning your back on him as he has done before. He imagines.
But what he gets is your strained, fucked-out little voice, “I missed you, my golden boy.”
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A/N. Yes, That Line was inspired by HTTYD. If I had to be hurt, y’all do, too. 
Plagiarism not authorized.
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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 4 months ago
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Danny held up a large sign from the background like a man at an airport as thier leader, Robin, gave his report to this "Justice League". The first sign said, "Help! I'm surrounded by daddy issues!" Earning a laugh from someone off camera. He then pulled the next card out from behind the first one.
"Can you send air fresheners? It smells like teen angst in here"
This one got a cackle from someone on the Justice League side of things. Score. No one here really wants to laugh. They're all edgelords and Danny is suffering. He didn't really want to be here, but things in Amity had ended in a way he never expected.
Both he and his parents had been arrested.
Not by his worlds government, mind you, but by the government of another Earth. This Earth that he was currently on to be more accurate. Who knew that so much of the stuff he and his parents had been doing was super illegal and wouldn't ya know it? He was in the middle of doing something really sketchy looking in his parents lab when the feds busted in.
Thankfully, the Justice League presented him with a deal: they take him out of Juvie and the reformation program he was in, and in return, he joins a team of former teen/child villains and anti-heros.
Figuring he had nothing to lose at this point he agreed.
He was not expecting to be surrounded by angry angsty teens. His fault really. He should have known better. Thankfully it seems like nobody knows about Phantom and he'd like to keep it that way.
Psaro was his calm in the storm. The other boy was proud and almost as arrogant as Robin, but he had been proven to be very kind and reliable. If Danny ever needed advice or if Robin was getting a bit too much, he could just knock of Psaros door.
The last time Robin had a fit and was starting a fight with someone, Mr. Pointy ears stepped up and told Robin that his outburst was undignified, especially for someone of a higher class like Robin seems to be presenting himself as. He also said something about there being a big difference between a king and a tyrant, but Danny had been trying to rush Robin's victim to the medway and didn't hear all of the convo.
Psaro was some kind of half demon prince who was also from another world. He didn't have a superhero name yet, but the program was brand new, and to be fair, Danny didn't officially have one either.
Some lady called Raven was supposed to be coming in to help Psaro and convince him to embrace his human half and help him with magic and...something about a curse? What did Danny get himself into???
2K notes · View notes
dangopango00 · 6 months ago
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GIVE HIM SOME ATTENTION
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What does he do when he wants some attention?
BLLK x S/O!GN Reader
Characters: Isagi, Bachira, Chigiri, Kunigami (Pre&Post WC), Gagamaru, Rin, Nanase, Sae, Shidou, Barou, Sendou, Nagi, Reo, Oliver, Otoya, Karasu, Yukimiya, Hiori, Kurona, Zantetsu, Raichi, Aryu, Kiyora, Kaiser, Ness (In that order)
CW: Suggestive as hell in Aiku & Otoya’s parts, A little angsty in Shidou, Reo & Ness parts
A/N: Idk all of them toooooo well but they’re all interesting to me so I’d like to try also I excluded some people who are irrelevant in my mindscape (i'm so sorry) (Nagi is honestly lucky to be here with the flopism he has been displaying smh) Gagamaru my goat ntm on him also added Zantetsu in honor of him finally getting his cover art
HCS UTC
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Yoichi Isagi
I think if he’s craving attention he’d probably be a bit hesitant because it's embarrassing for him to ask (since he likes a lot of attention so he’d be asking all day LOL). In order to save himself the embarrassment he’ll usually just hold your hand and give you a serious look– if he can muster that (sometimes if he’s feeling shy he’ll just put his hand on yours while looking away). Well when he does look at you he thinks he’s giving you a serious look but surely all you see is him giving you puppy eyes.
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Meguru Bachira
Oh if he’s craving attention YOU WILL KNOW. He’d probably cling to you as if you were a missing part of his body he was trying to reconnect. He’ll hug your arm or pepper you in kisses and he’ll seem way happier than usual because he’s just so glad to be around you. He’s a bit ridonkulous he might even jump on you, making you both collapse to the floor, or if you’re in a place with a hard floor he’ll instead pull you towards him and squeeze you like a giant teddy bear.
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Hyoma Chigiri
He’s a bit tricky honestly. He has a good amount of pride so he doesn’t like to seem too clingy but that doesn’t mean he’ll back down if he feels like he’s being neglected. If he wants attention he’ll try to make you the one who’s embarrassed and craving attention by flirting subtly though incessantly. He’ll wrap his arm around you and lightly ghost his thumb over your skin or even ‘innocently’ kiss your jawline and then just as quickly as he started, he’ll stop and go back to whatever he was doing before so you’re the one asking for attention from him now.
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Rensuke Kunigami (PRE Wild Card)
Honestly? Upstanding young man ass dude he’ll probably just start giving you attention until you reciprocate. He’s stubborn too so you know he won’t stop until you give in unless you’re seriously not in the mood for whatever reason. He’ll sneak up behind you and hug you and start kissing up your neck; eventually turn your head so he can kiss you on the lips if you’re willing to indulge him. The kind of guy who’d just lay up in your arms and gently lay you down with him after a long day.
Rensuke Kunigami (POST WC)
Ok I know he SEEMS insanely different but tbh I don’t think he’d change all that much. He’s probably a little bit more socially awkward because for a while all he’s done is train with little social interaction. When he wants attention, I think he’d likely use the same tactic but in a different way. He’d probably nip your neck or shoulder (not painfully; he is trying to be playful) and when it gets your attention, he’d start to pepper you in kisses or lay his head down on your shoulder if it's been a long day.
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Gin Gagamaru
I don’t have a great grasp on this guy (despite being one of my goats 🥹) but I think he’d probably have like mannerisms for it like pointing at where he wants to be kissed and kisses you back when you oblige him. He also seems like the kind of guy who’d bring you something from his journeys in the wilderness as like a homemade gift and hopes you’ll give him the attention he seeks in return (you can definitely tell because he just stares at you as you open the gift, hoping you like it and then continues to stare expectantly when you do like it)
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Rin Itoshi
Imo if Rin decided to get into a relationship with someone he’d dedicate himself to them just as he does soccer because he wouldn’t want them to be hurt the way he was hurt (someone you love acting coldly towards you) but he doesn’t really know how without cringing. SO his way of asking for attention would be somewhat sweet although awkward. I think he would likely try to do some semi romantic gesture like laying his head on your shoulder/in your lap (although he’s pretty tense) or just making general contact like touching knees or brushing fingers together and will absolutely WHIP his head away if you look at him.
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Nijiro Nanase
Nanase is just a guy; another upstanding young man. I think he would probably flatter you if he wanted attention. He’ll probably start talking about the things he likes about you and how much he loves you, giving you a kiss on the cheek along with his praise as well. He is very aware of the fact that you think he’s the cutest thing to hit planet Earth and he will use it to his advantage!! Of course, he means what he says but if saying it out loud will get him covered in kisses he’ll say as much as you want because he’s never gonna run out of things to say.
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Sae Itoshi
This guy… Is a real piece of work but, like his brother, I think if he’s willing to get into a relationship then that means he's willing to put in the effort but doesn’t know how, although he respects you a ton. If he’s craving attention I don’t think he’ll even realize it; he’ll just get really irritated when you aren’t around and when you are around he’ll stare you down so hard he could burn a hole through you but the fact that he doesn’t even look angry is what tips you off to what he wants. The look in his eyes isn’t insanely soft but it's not a hard stare either, he looks like he's daydreaming or zoning out tbh.
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Ryusei Shidou
If Sae is a piece of work this dude is a whole project. It’s easy to say he’s like Bachira, which he is during the day, but I think it’d be more interesting to talk about him during the night. When the day comes to an end he said he “becomes nothing” so I think it would be the number one time where he craves attention and validation that he exists and you’re really there. It’s a somewhat vulnerable time for him but he plays it off like he’s just his usual clingy self and probably places himself in front of you at any opportunity. Looking down? He’ll lay on your lap. Facing forward? Well here he is in front of you. And by the time it’s finally time for bed he's completely wrapped his body around yours.
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Shoei Barou
It’s kind of hard to imagine how he’d show affection in a relationship buttt I think similar to Kunigami, I think he would just give you attention until you give in. However, I think Barou is probably a bit more aggressive about it and he’d probably go up to you and kiss you, then pull away just enough to await your next move. If you take too long to decide though he’ll start kissing around your face: on your nose, your forehead, etc. He’s pretty bold but he is a tiny bit embarrassed/hesitant when it comes to feeling ‘soft’ with you so he’ll kiss you to distract himself from it.
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Shuto Sendou
This guy is peak loserboy activity whew he is a huge sucker for being spoiled so he wants attention OFTEN. I think he probably just stands really close to you and complains about how his day was soooooo horrible and how he worked so hard but if being standoffish isn’t working he holds onto your waist for dear life or plops himself on your lap and hugs you, waiting for attention when he gets desperate. If he’s super desperate he’ll start kissing around your neck and complain even more. He even starts to say how betrayed he feels at how easily you’re ignoring his woes.
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Seishiro Nagi
He’s pretty efficient in the way he shows he wants attention. Since he’s the spoiled type he’ll usually try to get your attention the normal way first: acting cute and laying his head on your shoulder or on your lap while he plays his game (he is expecting you to play with his hair) but if you don’t he’ll honestly be confused at first because he’s usually given whatever he wants. At first he’ll try to put your hand on his head but if you keep taking it away he’ll make you lay down with him and literally try to immobilize you by putting all his weight on your body; will even pretend to be asleep if you protest.
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Reo Mikage
He’s a lot bit codependent so if he’s feeling neglected he’ll do everything he can to get your attention. He’ll usually shower you in gifts and/or take you on a romantic date. He’ll plan out a whole ass day of pampering just because he wants some attention. Please remind him he doesn’t need to do. All that. Because he often feels a bit useless if he doesn’t have time to do that. Not only does he feel useless but he’s somehow convinced himself subconsciously that he doesn’t really deserve your attention if he hasn’t done anything for you.
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Oliver Aiku
If he wants attention from you, he’ll give you an insane amount of attention. Unlike Kunigami and Barou, he’s very forward and will text you, showering you with sweet words while he’s on his way to yours and when he gets there, he’s practically already all over you. He’s going on about how much he loves you and how he missed you so much all while kissing you wherever he can reach you. Tbh if he's craving attention, he probably just wants to have sex since he’s not a very clingy guy so he's probably already backing you into a wall and trying to undress you.
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Eita Otoya
Honestly his appeal to others is usually him being the “cold but caring” type so, like Aiku, he’d probably text you before getting to yours but it’d be even more bare bones like, “i miss you” or “can I see u” even if he DOES genuinely like you he doesn’t really think deeply about his feelings and impulsively texts you when he wants attention. Unlike Aiku, he is a clingy guy and if he’s really desperate for attention he’ll still escalate it to sex if he can; just slower. Probably wants to lay his face in your chest or lap and makeout.
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Tabito Karasu
Oh this smartass. He’s probably similar to Hyoma in the fact that he makes sure it's you who wants his attention by pampering you one minute and acting like nothing happened the next. However he does tend to like smart people so if you’re smart enough to see through his hot-and-cold act he’ll eventually hold you and hide his face in your chest, admitting defeat but he’d still be smiling because either way he wins. He’s already got you and he won't let go until you fill the quota of kisses you owe him.
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Kenyu Yukimiya
He’s the type to feel a bit embarrassed about wanting attention at first but will be more forward if you don’t pick up on his subtle hints. His hints include sneaking glances at you or holding your hand whenever he gets the opportunity. He’s honestly pretty charismatic so I think that when being more forward he would probably kiss your hand and help you with anything you may need to get done or finish anything he may need to do so that you can completely focus on each other when there’s nothing left.
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Yo Hiori
Honestly craving attention is a somewhat rare occurrence for him so it's a bit embarrassing, especially since you two are used to kinda doing your own thing. Probably gives you little ‘hints’ like starting off by asking if you want to play a game with him as an excuse to get you close to him. Another hint would likely be him invading your bubble whether it be by scooting close to you or hooking his leg over yours a bit or whatever it may be. If you still aren’t getting it he probably says something that tips you off while looking directly at you or glancing at you like, “Do you mind me being clingy?” or something along those lines.
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Ranze Kurona
He’s such a sweetie he probably braids your hair if it's long enough (if it’s short he’ll still try a root braid if you want but he’s not very good at it). If not he’ll usually get you both stickers to mess around with, putting some on your face, others on various items and sometimes you put them in random hidden places as a nice surprise when you find them again. Typically this is enough to get the attention he’s looking for, but if you’re teasing him or simply forgot, he’ll lightly nip your shoulder or lightly graze his teeth over your shoulder (Since you two got together you have definitely encouraged him to be comfortable with his teeth around you)
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Zantetsu Tsurugi
This guy often tries to be something he’s not so he’d probably try to do a bunch of romantic gestures that aren’t his style. Knowing him he’d probably put together some poems. They aren’t very good but it IS very sweet and he’d keep doing this for a while until the poems start to sound the same and he starts to get frustrated. He’d try learning an instrument, impressing you with his knowledge on a subject you like etc. until eventually he would just force himself to suck it up and ask you for attention outright and just straight up admit how much you mean to him because all these other things are draining and they aren’t him.
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Jingo Raichi
He’s another guy who finds it a bit embarrassing to be ‘soft’ so when craving attention he’ll often ‘starve’ himself of it. Usually you’re the one who has to give him attention but if you haven’t for whatever reason then he’ll be angrier than usual that day with his teammates. He’ll probably give up by the time he gets home and just crashes into you grumbling about how his day has been SO unsexy. Probably won’t let you go until he falls asleep tbh and even then he still has a pretty good grip on you.
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Jyubei Aryu
When he wants attention Aryu would probably start flaunting his beauty, pushing his hair back, striking poses, modeling clothes for you, whatever stylish thing he can think of– he will do it and then glance over at you to make sure you were paying attention. If that doesn’t work then he’d have you do some stylish things like he might have you try on some clothes he bought you or ask you to style his hair because he is “lacking inspiration” (He actually just knows you like playing with his hair smh)
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Jin Kiyora
This dude is a freak, it's a lot bit funny. When he wants attention he probably asks you to watch a movie with him (You’re already suspicious that he didn’t put on Fight Club for the umpteenth time or another action movie). He honestly put it on as background noise and thought it looked boring so he’d probably just tell you to lay down with him and lightly kiss you until you get the picture (Spoil him). Can and WILL turn the movie off and hide the remote if you neglect him smh (He will not enjoy the returned energy next time he wants to watch fight club so for both of your sakes just give him some kisses).
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Michael Kaiser
Complicated individual, rightfully so. If he wants attention he’d simply demand it. Bye. He would likely just pull you towards him without any further commentary, he might even look a bit annoyed. If you didn’t know him you’d think he was in a bad mood and upset with you but you know how he gets. However, he’s more clear when it’s been a long day and he’s feeling a bit beat down or unsure of himself. He’d just shove his face into your back or your midsection and let you play with his hair as he conks theee fuck out.
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Alexis Ness
Another complicated individual whew. What is up with these codependent purple dudes who found the worst possible person to depend on? Ness has yet to find a relationship where he is properly loved and not essentially abandoned so if he feels like you’re slipping away he’ll panic and do everything in his power to convince you to keep him around. He needs a lot of reassurance tbh and spends a lot of his time in your arms. When he’s craving attention he’ll usually just be sulking around all day like a sad wet cat. Every now and again he turns to look at you wistfully and walks past very slowly like that damn homeless ant. Show him some love he needs it now more than ever ayayayay.
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vinvantae · 9 months ago
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How the current F1 grid acts after going from your friend to lover
Some sections inspired by prompts from @me-writes-prompts
Some are longer than others just depending on how inspired I was, not playing favourites I swear!
Some are angsty, some are fluffy. Some are a lil sexy but they’re all basically just different post friends-to-lovers scenarios. Enjoy!
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#1 Max Verstappen
He relishes in your warm touch against his skin, but he was still so unfamiliar when it happened in front of his friends - even the soft press of your lips against his cheek had his cheeks turning the darkest shade of pink, his next words coming out as stammers. He would be annoyed by the way his friends - your friends - teased him about it but after years of pining - he was just glad he finally got to call you his, your soft giggles filling his ears as he proudly admitted that he was, in fact, a massive simp.
“You’re cute.” You whisper in his ear, laughing when somehow his cheeks darkened even more.
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#2 Logan Sargeant
You could see Logan watching you out of the corner of your eye as the two of you made lunch - you couldn’t help the smile that tugged your mouth. “You’re staring, Logan.” His cheeks flushed, but he approaches you nonetheless - his eyes sparkling. “Can…” He took a deep breath. “May… May I kiss you? Please.” A soft hum left your lips as you looped your arms over his shoulders, fingers carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. “You don’t have to ask… I’m yours.”
He ducked his head to press a sweet kiss to your lips. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to saying that.”
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#3 Daniel Ricciardo
The moment the two of you locked eyes, you burst into laughter - tears rolling down your cheeks as you lent into his hold, his cackles bouncing off of the walls as the people around you exchanged looks. “Did I say something funny?” You tried to explain but you couldn’t get a full sentence out without your own giggles cutting you off.
“Are you guys crazy or what?” Daniel managed to calm his laughter just for a moment - his brown eyes sparkling as he looked at you, his smile morphing from one of humour to one of fondness as you tried to calm yourself, wiping away a tear. Crazy in love, maybe.
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#4 Lando Norris
You were rudely awoken by a repeated clacking against your window - none other than Lando stood down on the ground, smiling up at you when you finally opened up the glass to look down. “What on earth are you doing?” You laughed. “You’re my boyfriend now, we don’t need to sneak around anymore.”
When you let him into your place, his hands were immediately on your hips - pressing a deep kiss to your lips. “I miss sneaking around.” He hummed, somehow hauling you even closer. “But I do have to admit… this is better. Showing off to everyone that you’re mine.”
“Yours, huh?” You purr. “Should make me scream loud enough that my neighbours know too.”
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#10 Pierre Gasly
Your breath catches in your throat as he presses you into the wall - his arms caged either side of your head as the music thumps loud in your ears. The smirk that toys on his lips has your heart pounding in your chest. He pressed his body against yours - the months of pining after you were finally over and he had you exactly where he wanted you. “I know exactly what you’re thinking…”
“Oh? You do?” You tease, letting your hands run up his chest. “And what are you gonna do about that, mon amour?”
His chuckle was dark, a thrill zipped up your spine - and as his eyes locked against yours, you knew you were in for a wild night.
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#14 Fernando Alonso
You couldn’t wrap your head around how often his hands were on you - before it was always just a ghostly hand on the small of your back or a gentle hand on your shoulder but now? He’d haul you onto your lap whenever he got the chance, his large hands finding purchase on your waist. Or he’d sweep you into a kiss in front of large crowds, not caring who was watching - and you couldn’t get enough.
“Nando, if I knew you were going to be like this… I would’ve confessed my feelings for you a whole lot sooner” You laughed, as he had practically run away from his PR agent to sweep you up into a massive hug.
“I don’t know how I managed to keep my hands to myself for all of those years, I’m just glad I don’t have to hold back anymore.”
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#16 Charles Leclerc
As his arms slipped around your middle, chin coming to rest on your shoulder - you felt content. After years of mutual pining, his touch felt more natural than ever. The two of you had always been close and the transitions from friends to lovers was so natural, his touches became more intentional, his hugs lasted longer - his hands lower. You turned in his hold so you could brush your lips together in a longing kiss, his stubbled cheeks in your hands. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, mon chou.” He hummed. “But unlike all the other times? I can show you just how much.” Your laughter was as light as air as he scooped you up into his arms to whisk you to the confines of your bedroom.
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#18 Lance Stroll
Things were still new, fresh, so you decided to keep the nature of your blossoming relationship between the two of you private. But that didn’t stop you from stealing glances at each other across the garage whenever you could, struggling to hold back the smiles. He was brought back down to earth when an engineer nudged a shoulder against his- turning to be met with a teasing, raised brow.
“So, you two..?”
“We’re friends.”
“Just friends?”
He let his gaze fall back to you, unable to help the smile on his face as you gave him a knowing look.
“Yeah, just friends.”
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#20 Kevin Magnussen
Kevin wasn’t huge on PDA, sure - he was more than happy to hold your hand, but for the most part he kept his hands to himself, especially at work. But when it got busy, sardines packed into a small office space for some last minute announcement - he’d always find his way to your side, arm brushed right up against yours. As Ayao addressed the room, he leant in - his voice a whisper. “Fancy a distraction?”
“Depends what you have in mind, Kev.” You whispered back, eyes forward - trying your best to pay attention, but your cheeks instantly heated up as his hand ghosts over your rear.
“You have no idea, søde.”
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#22 Yuki Tsunoda
You’d fallen asleep on Yuki before - he used to freeze up, determined not to move an inch in order not to wake you. But this time, with your head on his chest - hand splayed across his shirt, he simply pulled the blanket off of the back of the sofa and laid it across you both.
He smiled softly as you grumbled and snuggled in closer, allowing him to press a gentle kiss to the top of your head and close his own eyes - just enjoying the weight and warmth of your body on top of his.
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#23 Alex Albon
It was surprisingly warm as the two of you laid on a picnic blanket under the stars, your head rested on his chest - a strong arm tucked underneath you. This was the first real time you’d spent together alone since you’d both finally admitted your feelings and it felt so right. You let your eyes flicker across the stars, a soft gasp passing your lips as you witnessed a shooting star.
“I don’t think Greggs is open this late.”
“How on earth did you know I wished for a sausage roll?”
He chuckled softly. “I know you better than anyone else.”
“Do you though?”
His gaze flickered down to you as you propped your chin up on his chest to look up at him, the smile on his face fond. “Of course I do.”
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#24 Zhou Guanyu
“Open up.”
You opened your mouth, allowing his hand to guide the spoon between your lips - hand cupped beneath your chin to catch any potential dribbles. He watched with eager eyes as you swallowed, the flavours washing over your chin. “Oh my god, that’s delicious.”
“And to think, you doubted me.”
With a playful roll of the eyes, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You’ve never cooked anything more than instant ramen in my presence. How was I supposed to know?”
“Cooking is my love language, so get used to it… gonna make sure you’re never hungry.”
“Oh, a boyfriend who’s my own personal chef? I am lucky.”
He grinned at that.
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#31 Esteban Ocon
You wobbled as you fished through the piles of jackets on the bed, trying to fish out your jacket as Esteban leant against the doorframe with a playful smile on his face. “You should just stay here, mon ange.”
A soft whine left your lips. “Estie, I shouldn’t.”
He approached you, his hands wrapping around your middle - pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Stay. I insist… it’s cold out, I’ll keep you warm.”
After a moment of protest, you looped your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss. “Okay, you’ve convinced me.”
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#44 Lewis Hamilton
Although you were more than friends, you were still yet to let him put a label on it. Too scared that saying you were more than just two people screwing, would open yourself up to heartbreak.
But it was different this time, his eyes full of want as his fingers brushed across the skin of your jaw. You wanted to be his, you lent in to kiss him but his grip on your face stopped you, a smirk tugging on his lips. “Lew, please.”
“You know exactly what I want, sweetheart.” He whispered, lips brushing lightly over yours. “I need you to say it. I want to hear you say it.”
“I’m yours, Lewis. Always… Now, kiss me.”
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#55 Carlos Sainz
It was crowded and loud, shoulders bumping against yours - throat burning from having to shout loud enough for anyone to hear you. You swirled your drink in your glass, chin propped up on your hand as you lent against the bar. Carlos could see the scowl on your face from across the room, so he politely excused himself from his friends to approach you.
“Mi vida.” Somehow you managed to hear his low purr over the music. “You look bored.”
You looked up to him, his brown eyes boring into yours. “So bored.”
He chuckled softly, pressing a deep kiss to your lips - stealing your breath. “We should definitely get out of here? Don’t you think so?”
It was almost comical how fast you nodded, letting him haul you out of the club.
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#63 George Russell
“Stop walking away from me!” He practically yelled, halting you in your tracks - you turned to face him, tears rolling down your cheeks. “You’re my best friend, I just.. I just can’t lose you.”
You scowled. “God, I hate that word.”
“Lose?”
“Friend.” You groaned, rubbing your eyes. “George, we’re not just friends, we’ve not been just friends for a long time…”
He stepped closer, taking your hands away from your face - linking your fingers together by your side. “I know, this is all just so new to me. I care about you endlessly… I want this, us, to work.”
You smiled softly, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him softly. “We’ll take it one day at a time, okay?”
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#77 Valtteri Bottas
“You look tired.”
You looked up from your coffee as Valtteri stepped into the room - his mullet messy from sleep as he stepped around the kitchen counter to give you a kiss. The two of you had been roommates for two years, but had recently found yourselves falling comfortably in a relationship - his bedroom long since abandoned.
“I did not know you had the ability to snore that loud, Val.”
He let out a snort of a chuckle. “Well, it wasn’t like I knew that you sleep with a hundred stuffed animals either.”
You giggled, placing your mug on the counter so you could pull him closer. “You wanna go back to your own room?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
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#81 Oscar Piastri
“This was a terrible idea.”
Oscar laughed as he stood just ahead of you on the ice - you were holding onto the railing for dear life as you shuffled your skates towards him. He rolled his eyes and effortlessly skated over. “You’ll never get better if you don’t let go. I won’t let you fall.”
With a huff you finally relinquished your grip and made an attempt to skate, for a moment - it feels like you have it, but a second later you’re crashing face first into Oscar’s chest - the two of you falling back onto the ice.
“Oh my god, Osc. I’m so sorry!” You squeaked. “You okay?”
“I got you flowers for our first date and you gave me a concussion, that doesn’t seem like a fair deal.” He teased. “A kiss would make it better.”
With a playful roll of the eyes you lent down to kiss him - definitely a first date to remember.
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A lil bit of everything for everyone! Hope you enjoyed x
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viennakarma · 1 year ago
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Something you paid for
Fernando Alonso x Reader
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Summary: Two years into the best relationship of your life, you find out that Fernando thinks you don't love him. But it get worse and you realize the whole world think of you as gold digger.
Word count: 5.7k
Tags: female!reader, established relationship, slut shaming, reader is confused, fernando is even more confused, miscommunication, cursing, a bit angsty, hurt/comfort, soft smut (almost not there), happy ending, not beta read
Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader
Note: I'm honestly not 100% sure about this story, a had another ending planned but I wanted it to be HEA. I don't know. :(
I'm sorry if it's rushed or full of mistakes. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx
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It was supposed to be just a pause in your studies. Something quick since your brain was already mushy from studying and writing your research for too long.
So when you picked up your phone, to aimlessly scroll through social media, you didn’t expect to see a new, sudden rush of comments on your instagram page. There were thousands of comments in your last post, calling you a gold digger, and much, much worse. Ever since you started dating Fernando, you had been getting these comments, and in the beginning they were worse but slowed down with time. Now they were on a new high again. Confused more than anything, you went on to try and find out what happened for this to happen all of a sudden. You and Fernando hadn’t gone out together for more than two weeks and you hadn’t been to a race week for a month.
After digging you eventually found out what happened. Deuxmoi posted something that made everyone quickly think it was you.
A lady who’s 12 years younger than her famous Spanish Formula One driver boyfriend, is known for being with him for his money. Many tried to warn him, but it seems like he doesn’t believe or doesn’t care.
Confused, you stared at the post, scrolling through hundreds of nasty, poisonous comments. That wasn’t true. Fernando did give you lots of presents and spoiled you a lot but he did this out of his own want, not because you asked for or demanded it. He was constantly giving you things, especially clothes, shoes and bags, and loved seeing you wearing them. He also gave you an Aston Martin car on your last birthday. He even went as far as getting you a credit card attached to his, for whenever you needed to buy books or go on a shopping spree. You never minded it because you knew he liked it, instead of refusing you were just grateful for his generosity.
You wondered if you should talk about it with him, but deep down you knew Fernando was never one to care for gossip of any kind. And this probably wasn’t even true to begin with, just someone trying to stir the pot. So you just limited the comments in your posts and went on about your day.
A week later you went to the race, it was Silverstone, and the last before summer break. You decided to dress your best, wearing clothes that were pretty and elegant and had been given to you by Fernando.
He always treated you like a princess, he was kind and patient, and always found a way to align your schedules to spend time together. He liked taking you on trips during summer break and to ski trips during winter break. Fernando adored having you around in race weeks, you could see in his face that he was radiant with your presence. And you loved all the gifts and the trips but you especially loved staying home with him, lazing around, making love on the sofa and taking walks hand in hand in his hometown. You loved helping him cook, trying your best to follow his orders and not mess up his recipes. 
You walked into the paddock hand in hand, and you kept him company whenever you could. He would keep you around the most, only letting you go when he had meetings or media duties. During that time, you would go back to his room and do a little more of your research, writing your thesis.
You left his room so you could grab a snack and a coffee at the hospitality, but as you passed by a hallway, you heard someone saying your name in conversation. You stopped, leaning against the wall to hear, with a glance, you saw two mechanics talking.
“Seems like everyone tried to warn him, man. But it’s like he doesn’t mind dating a gold digger.”
“Is she a gold digger, really?”
“Man, she doesn’t do anything! She doesn't even work.”
“Has anyone warned Fernando?”
“Everyone.”
You went back inside his driver’s room, sitting down, completely shocked. So that’s what people thought of you? You knew people on the internet talked about it, but they were strangers so you wouldn’t allow yourself to mind because those people didn’t know you. But the people in the garage? They’ve known you for almost two years now, you were always kind and polite to them, even going as far as bringing them cookies and donuts as thank you for welcoming you so well.
You avoided crying, it would ruin your makeup, and Fernando would notice it very quickly. So you just sat there, numb. Thinking about how everyone believed you were with Fernando because of his money and nothing else.
When Fernando found you again, before he had to go get ready for the race, he noticed you were a little down.
“You should not study so hard on the weekends, princesa.” He muttered, hugging you from behind and leaving a gentle kiss to your neck. Of course, he would think you were just tired.
“You are absolutely right, mi amor,” you smiled a little, turning around so you could hug him properly, “do you have time for a little kiss?”
“Even two,” he joked.
You ended up sitting on his lap, making out like two teenagers, until someone knocked on the door, calling Fernando to go get ready.
“Hey, good luck, yeah?” You said, kissing him one more time then kissing the back of his hand, “I love you.”
You watched the race from the garage, feeling self conscious now that it seemed like everyone thought you were leeching off of Fernando.
In the end, Fernando got P3 which was a great result and you celebrated wildly, proudly watching him get on the podium.
After his post race meetings, you met him in his room.
“Let’s go out to celebrate! Dinner is on me!” You hugged him, mood better now than before.
You and him ended up going out for dinner, at a high end restaurant, dressed to the nines. It was fun, you listened to Fernando talking about the race, then he asked you what you thought about the race.
Before dessert, you went into the bathroom to retouch your makeup and freshen up. When you came back, your tiramisu was already there. You and Fernando shared the dessert, laughing to each other.
When the waitress came, you picked the opportunity.
“Dear, can we get the tab please?”
“It’s already taken care of, Madam.”
Your smile faltered, and you looked at Fernando as she left. He was smiling like he couldn’t hold it in.
“Fernando! I said dinner was on me!”
“Why would I let you pay, princesa?”
“Because you got a podium today! As a celebration!” You whined, upset. Fernando pulled your chair, until you were right beside him and he kissed your cheek.
“I like paying for you, Hermosa,” Fernando stood up, offering you a hand, “come on, you can treat me right in our hotel room, what about that?”
You smiled as he pulled you away, but something still nagged at your brain.
You and Fernando took the private plane back to Madrid after the date, because he had sponsor meetings over the week, and you honestly wanted to sleep in your bed. The trip was quick, and while Fernando took a nap, you tried studying, but your mind kept going back to being called a gold digger.
Deep down, you really wanted to talk to Fernando about it, but you were unsure if he could fix this in any way. What could he do? Make a post on instagram saying hey, my girlfriend isn’t leeching off of me as most you think!? You did live with Fernando, for six months now, and he paid all the bills and the house was his. But he also gave you many many gifts.
When you got home, putting your bags inside the closet, you two just changed into sleepwear, ready to doze off.
Then Fernando opened his bag and grabbed a small box.
“Oh, I had forgotten! Got you a present last week in Austria!”
He handed you the box, and with your heart beating fast, you opened it to a beautiful vintage watch. It was gold, delicate with a beautiful bracelet. There was a lump in your throat as you stared at the piece.
“You didn’t like it? It’s ok, princesa, I’ll get you another one,” he said, with a gentle smile.
“I don’t need another watch, Nando. You gave me this one not even a month ago,” you raised your wrist, showing him the brand new one he gave you.
“I want to give it to you. It doesn’t matter,” he shrugged.
“And I don’t want it,” god, you didn’t want to sound so ungrateful, but how could you tell him that his presents felt like something else now? “You have to stop giving me so many presents,” you said, trying to put into words what you were feeling.
“But that’s how I won you over, why would you refuse my presents now?”
Something about the nonchalance in his voice made you stop, stomach dropping. That’s how I won you over? That’s how he believed your relationship came to be? That’s why he thought you were together?
“What did you say?” You paused, suddenly turning to him, it felt like a punch to the throat, “You- you believe I’m a gold digger? You believe it?”
Fernando walked up to you, putting both hands on your waist, a soft smile gracing his face.
“Amor, you know I don’t mind spending my money on you. Quite the opposite, I love to spoil you.”
You stood there, speechless for a couple of seconds. Then you snapped out of it, pushing his hands off you.
“That’s not what I asked!” Your voice sounded louder, you tried to regain your composure, “people talk a lot, the press too, but you know the truth, right?!”
“I’m a rich man, I like providing you with the luxurious lifestyle you lead. I don’t care that you enjoy my money.”
His words made it so much worse. It made you nauseous, the idea that all this time, he’s been thinking of you as a gold digger, as someone who’s only with him for his money and for what he could provide for you.
“No, Fernando- no!” Your voice wavered, “that’s not true! I love you, you know that right?”
“Why are you so caught up in some silly rumor?
“You know right? You know I love you.” You pressed further waiting for an answer. Hoping against hope that he knew it deep down, that he could acknowledge that you harbored love for him.
“Amor, we have such a great dynamic like this. I don’t need your love, just your loyalty and for you to be my pretty girl.”
He was so calm and reassuring, like he had made peace with the fact that you didn’t love him. Like he wasn’t bothered at all by the fact that you were supposedly a gold digger. His dismissal broke something inside you.
“So you don’t- you don’t believe I love you?”
You felt pathetic and helpless, repeating the same words again and again, hoping and praying for a different answer from Fernando.
“Come on, I’m really tired, can we go to sleep?
“Fernando.”
“I’m going to wait for you in bed,” was all he said, dismissing you completely.
You walked out of the room at the same time he went into the bathroom, you held your head up until you softly closed the door behind you, then finally the tears spilled. You went to the bathroom downstairs, the farthest you could go away from him as the sobs broke from your throat violently.
Sliding down on the floor you wondered if everything was lie. You knew it wasn’t but the fact that he thought you were only there for the money was completely wrong. How long had he been thinking that? How many times had he heard you say “I love you” and thought it wasn’t true? You didn’t even know what to do or what to feel. How could you feel if this whole time while you were pouring your heart into this relationship he thought you were just leeching off of him? How can you love someone so deeply and still live with the fact they think of you as a freeloader? Did he joke with his friends like yeah, she’s a gold digger but at least she’s loyal and fucks me well? 
Your chest hurt and you felt repulsive, making your way to the living room, opening a bottle of his whiskey, not bothering with a glass, just sipping it straight from the bottle.
What could you do now? Talk to him? Tell him you’re not with him for his money? After two whole years accepting his every gift with open arms? After getting a fortune worth of presents? After letting him pay for your books, textbooks, new laptop? After letting him pay for dates, trips, clothes, accessories, shoes and jewelry?
You hated yourself for it now. For taking it just because you thought it was his love language, not because deep down he was trying to keep you, buying your affection.
After spending the whole night awake, nursing a bottle and with only your repulsive thoughts as company, you watched as the sun rose from the big living room window.
It was time to fix it.
Fernando was an early riser almost every morning, so after the sun fully rose in the sky, you went in the kitchen and prepared coffee, to cut the effect of the alcohol. You weren’t drunk, really.
“Morning, bebé! You woke up earlier than me today?” He said, passing you with a kiss to your cheek, then going to the cabinet for a mug. He was so unbothered by your argument last night it was pissing you off.
“I didn’t sleep.”
He paused, looking at your face.
“We should talk.” You readied yourself. Fernando stopped in front of you, attentive. “I’ve been hearing a lot this past week that I’m a gold digger, this has been making me feel some kind of way, and I wanted to address this with you. Last night you were tired and we probably misunderstood each other…”
“Where are you going with this, corazón?” He asked, confused.
“I’m not with you for your money, Fernando. Do you understand that?”
He stood silent, which only made you feel worse.
“I want you to stop giving me presents without a proper occasion. And I want you to stop paying stuff for me. And we’re going to share house bills.” You laid it all out, after thinking hard all throughout the night.
“What are you talking about? No, I don’t accept it.” He frowned, “that wasn’t the deal when we moved in together.”
“Because I didn’t know everything back then. I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of you, and I don’t live at your cost like this.”
“No, Y/N.” He took a step back, shaking his head as if you had said the most stupid thing he had ever heard.
“I’m serious, Fernando.”
“No, I’m not negotiating this. I pay for everything. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it will be.”
“I just want to show you that I’m not with you for the money! I’m not what they’re calling me! No more presents, Fernando.”
“You took them.”
“Because I thought you wanted me to have them!”
“I wanted you to have them so you would want to stay with me!”
You gasped, hearing it from his mouth finally. The tears finally started flowing, and you swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady even with the tempest happening inside your chest, staining the beautiful story of your relationship. Well, what you thought was a beautiful relationship.
“You’re just like them, right?” You said, defeated, “you think of me as a gold digging whore. You probably never defended me when they called me that.”
“I gave you all this stuff because I didn’t want you to leave!”
“It was never about the fucking money! And guess what? You lost me anyway!” You marched to the bedroom, Fernando hot on your heels.
“Don’t. Don’t leave.” He said, following you. “I did everything for you to never leave!”
“Everything but loving me! I don’t fucking care!” You unlatched your necklace, putting it on the table, “I don’t care about your money and the jewelry and the clothes and the bags!” You put down your watch and earrings too. Everything he had given you not because he wanted you or loved you, but because he thought they were the price to pay to keep you around.
“Fuck, I love you!” You shouted, feeling desperate and lost, “And all you see me as is something you paid for. A toy you can parade around and look pretty in your arm! You don’t even love me, Fernando. I could write a list about everything I love about you, and none of it would be your stupid money!”
In the closet, you picked a bag, and started putting your clothes inside. Then you noticed how most of them were gifts from him. So you put it back, taking only what you had bought yourself. Fernando stood there, helpless as you packed, putting clothes and a few shoes in a couple of baggage. You also took your study material and laptop, which he had gifted you, but you knew you’d refund him.
“Stop, no,” Fernando tried to stop you as went into the garage, “I do, I love you.”
“You don’t, Fernando. You’re not even sure of that.” You shook your head, putting the bags inside the car. The Aston Martin he had given you, “you have to think. If you really love me as you say, then why do you love me? Because I’m eye candy you can take to galas? Because I’m a good fuck? Because I stand there and look pretty when you have to kiss those old men’s asses?”
You didn’t give him a second, getting in the car and starting the engine.
“This is so messed up, oh my god, how could I let myself believe this for two entire years?” You whispered to yourself, accelerating the car and driving off. 
Through the rear view, you could see Fernando standing there, doing nothing.
You drove and wiped the tears away, breathing in. When you moved in with Fernando, you hadn’t been able to get out of the lease of your flat because you still had a few months on your renting contract. Now it felt like luck that you had a place to stay. Despite getting your doctorate degree, you didn’t have any friends in the city, only a few acquaintances here and there.
You got to the apartament, not bothering to unpack your bags, only leaving it on the bedroom floor. You took your study material and with your phone in hand, you sent Fernando via transfer a total 4000 euros, for what you hoped covered the “laptop and books expenses” as you wrote in the little note.
Then you laid on the bed, crying yourself to sleep.
You woke up and it was getting dark, the sun setting outside. Checking your phone, there were fourteen missed calls from Fernando, and a notification, showing that he had returned the money to you, with additional 30000 euros and only “no” written on the little note. Huffing, you sent the whole amount back and blocked him, so he couldn’t transfer any more money to you.
He still had not realized what was wrong, he was still thinking money was your motivation.
The next few days felt like a haze, you were barely getting any sleep, only eating and writing your research, which ultimately reminded you of Fernando, since it was a study on aerodynamics. You couldn’t lie to yourself, thinking of how many times you stared at the door, waiting and hoping he would understand and come after you.
-
Fernando had work commitments in England, and going back to Madrid, he ended up giving George and his girlfriend a lift. Fernando was visibly not himself as soon as George saw him.
“How’s Y/N doing?” George asked, casually. But from the way Fernando’s face dropped, he could tell something was wrong, “trouble with the missus?” He joked, tried to lighten the mood.
“She- uh, she left.” Fernando muttered.
“What do you mean, she left?” Carmen joined the conversation, “She’s traveling?”
“No- no- I guess we broke up.”
“You guess?!” George’s voice went a little high pitched out of nervousness.
“Fernando, what happened?” Carmen tried to understand. 
Despite not being exactly best friends, you and her were pretty close, always spending time together whenever both of you were on race weekends. The fact that you’re both engaged academics was also a common topic between you.
“You know about the rumors, right?” Fernando started, hesitating.
“What rumors?” George paused.
“That she’s only with me for the money,” Fernando muttered.
“All girlfriends of drivers are accused of that at some point, what’s new?” George pushed.
“I might have implied that I agree with that.”
“Oh, my god,” Carmen covered her mouth, absolutely shocked, “What?”
“Fernando, respectfully- Are you fucking insane?!” George exclaimed, jaw slack, “she looks at you all lovey-dovey, like- like- you’re the only person in the entire earth and you think she’s with you for the money?”
“She would never be like that! She’s so smart and kind,” Carmen added.
“I know- I just- I don’t know! Maybe I let the rumors get to my head!” he ran both hands over his face, exasperated, “And she always lets me pay, and she always takes the presents, I don’t know!”
Then, Fernando explained about how you tried to pay for dinner, and you refused his gift, he told them about the argument and how you wanted to set boundaries about money and gifts.
“She was trying to prove to you that she’s not a freeloader. She was trying to show that the money didn’t matter, and what did you do? You pushed more money on her!” George practically spat the words in Fernando’s face.
“Eres muy estúpido, Fernando. Te lo digo como tu amiga.” Carmen muttered.
“I don’t know what she said but I heard the word stupid, and I agree.” George backed her up, “Go talk to her, apologize and fix it.”
“That is,” Carmen interrupted, face serious, “If you really love her. Otherwise, better let her go find someone who can really love her, it’s what she deserves. Love and happiness.”
Fernando swallowed, his chest constricting with the mere thought of you moving on, of someone else having you in their arms.
Getting back home without you there felt like a thick fog day, cold and empty and he missed you, he missed his sun. He missed you jumping into his arms as soon as he opened the door. He missed the smell of the candles you always lit while studying. He even missed the little mess of textbooks, colorful highlighters and notes scattered around.
Home didn’t feel like home without you.
In the middle of the living room, there were big cardboard boxes, as he opened, he noticed they were full of clothes, shoes and bags he had gifted you throughout your relationship. In a smaller box, all the jewelry he had given you, even anniversary gifts. Even the beauty products he had given you like perfumes, makeup products, and face creams.
You had returned every single thing.
And on the coffee table, your keys to the house and the keys of your Aston Martin DB12.
It seemed like you had returned everything that could tie you to him, everything that made him wrongly call you a gold digger. And it felt painfully like a goodbye.
-
While mixing your homemade coffee, your eyes flicked to the door, then to your phone on the table, facing up. Despite the searing pain in your chest, and the sorrowful hole in your heart, maybe it was time to start to move on. It had been more than a week, if he wanted to come back to you, he would’ve come by now.
You got ready to meet with your advisor, and she brought up a topic that had been common now, about you taking a position as a professor for a couple of Engineering subjects. She said it’d be good for you to work in your area while on the last few months before getting your doctorate degree. You had mostly denied the other times she offered the position, because you wanted more time with Fernando, because you wanted the freedom to fly around the world following him to his races.
Now- now you had more bills to pay and no boyfriend to follow. You also had more free time, a broken heart and a vacant mind. 
“I’m considering the position. I believe it could do me good right now.” You said to her, thoughtful, “can I confirm with you tomorrow?”
After going through the meeting and getting a review on your thesis, you went back to your flat, taking a long shower. You had just dressed in pajamas when the doorbell rang. With long strides, you were faced with Carmen, and not Fernando as you expected.
“From your face I take it he hasn’t spoken to you, yes?” Carmen muttered, seeing the visible disappointment in your face.
“I’m sorry, please come in,” you opened the door wider, forcing a smile. Carmen had a couple of bags that she set on a nearby table.
“He told us what happened, I’m so sorry,” Carmen hugged you and you immediately started crying, since you had no one to talk about the past few days, “I brought chocolates and wine, so we can talk.”
Over chocolates and a bottle of Merlot, you told her everything, starting at the deuxmoi rumor. She looked horrified when you said word for word what had transpired the last time you spoke with him.
“I just don’t understand why he didn’t come talk to you yet,” Carmen added, at some point.
“Because he won’t, at all.” You say with your voice shaky from crying so much the past hour.
“Don’t say that. He loves you.” Carmen said.
“I’m not entirely sure about that,” you shrugged, pretending it didn’t hurt as much as it did, “He’ll find another one, someone who can enjoy his money since it seems like it’s all that matters to him.”
Carmen didn’t say anything to that and you knew she couldn’t argue with the facts. Later, George dropped by to get her, going up to your flat so he could hug you quickly and mutter “I’m sorry”.
With a heavy heart, you slowly rebuild a healthy routine again, doing grocery shopping, cooking meals, going to the gym, studying and everything.
One day, you went back home after going on a shopping spree, and as you got into the hall, Fernando was there, standing in your hall, waiting by the door. You stopped, almost losing the timing to leave the elevator. When you walked closer, he noticed you. Meeting his eyes was different this time, uncertain and a little distant.
“What do you want?” You asked, you hoped your voice would come out harsh, but it only sounded defeated.
“Can we talk?” He asked, and you nodded, opening the door and letting him in.
There was a moment of awkward silence as you put the shopping bags down. After doing that, you crossed your arms and stood against a side table, waiting quietly.
“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, for not fully believing your love, I guess I was so focused in protecting myself, that I ended up hurting you, and it was never my intention,” Fernando stood just two steps away from you, his eyes holding such pain and fear, that it made you crumble, he didn’t look like he’d been sleeping well, “I love you, I really do. For who you are and nothing else.”
You wanted to give in so bad, you wanted to run into his arms and never let go, but you also didn’t want to suffer again.
“How do you know? You never knew that for two years, how would you know it now?” You shook your head, tears starting to fill your eyes again.
“Because it is hard being without you,” he said, like he was trying to find the right words, “I can’t sleep without you. My life is miserable without you around.”
You only nodded, covering your lips with a hand. You wanted to tell him that you had not gotten proper sleep without him, that your life feels empty, that not knowing about him everyday was painful. But you needed more. You needed something you could hold onto, and maybe, just maybe take another chance at the two of you.
“I- I made a list. Like you said,” his voice failed, and you noticed his hand was shaking a little as he held the paper, “I love you. I love coming home to you every time and feel our house so lived in. I love how you always hug me first thing after I’m back home. I love the silly texts you send me randomly throughout the day talking about your day. I love the selfies with your tongue out too,” that made you two chuckle, and the movement made your tears fall, so you wiped them, staring at him intently, “I love that you’re always the smartest person in any room we’re in. I love that you’re humble, never showing off or being a smartass. I love how cheeky and witty you are. I love that you talk in your sleep. I love that scar in your knee, because it shows you were always a little naughty, even as a kid. I love that there’s always fresh flowers at home. I love that you love kids. I love that you get along well with my family. I love that you-”
He didn’t finish, as you closed the distance and launched yourself at him, hugging him tight. Fernando held you close, pressing you into him, inhaling your perfume, feeling like he was at home again.
“I’m so sorry, princesa. So so sorry. I missed you so much,” he whispered against your cheek, kissing it softly.
“I missed you too, Nando” you said, eyes closed and allowing yourself to just feel him again, “I love you so much.”
You let go, holding his face with both hands, looking into his eyes before kissing him softly. He, on the other hand, held the back of your neck firmly, licking your mouth open, until he had tasted your mouth, leaving you breathless.
“Come back home with me, princesa.”
At that, you took a step back.
“I- I can’t, Nando. I got a new job at the university.”
“What?”
“I thought you weren’t coming back to me,” you muttered, and your words made him wince, “I needed something to hold on to.”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he ran a hand over his face, looking embarrassed for taking so long to come after you.
“I believe we should- we should take a step back, rethink a bit about our dynamic,” you told him, hesitant of his reaction.
“Are you unsure about us?” He asked, visibly worried.
“No, no- I love you- I do-” You started, taking his hand, holding it firmly against yours, “I just think we should rewind a bit. Have my own place and pay my own bills, I just don’t want to feel like that again, I need to regain my dignity in this.”
He kept quiet, because he knew deep down you were right. He felt awful about all the misunderstandings, but he knew you probably felt much, much worse. He should just get on his knees and be thankful you still loved him and still wanted him. He’d take all your conditions to get back with him.
And deep down both of you knew it was for the best. Moving out and living alone, working and seeing him occasionally as a boyfriend. 
Holding your face, he kissed you, leaving little pecks on your lips, your cheeks, your chin, your forehead. You closed your eyes, letting him kiss you, and he muttered how much loved you and how much he missed you, kissing down the side of your neck. He walked you inside and let him, feeling his hands quickly peeling your clothes off, leaving a trail of clothes from the living room to your bedroom.
You parted so you could undress him, pulling at his jacket and the t-shirt.
“I love you, I love you so much,” he mumbled into a kiss, laying you down in bed.
You laid on the bed and he hugged him, making space for him between your legs. He held you, touching your nose with his gently.
“I missed you, princesa,” he kissed your cheek, “I promise I’ll do better from now on.”
“I know you will, baby.” You kissed him again, running your hand down his back, “make love to me now.”
He filled you up at once, and you groaned into his mouth, scratching your nails down his back as you cunt welcomed him. As he fucked into you, slowly at first then picking up pace, he muttered how much he loved you and how sorry he was, over and over.
As you cuddled after, quietly enjoying each other’s company. 
“What do we do about all your gifts?”
“Give them away,” you shrugged.
“Can I convince you to take it back?”
“Not if you still want me in your life,” you muttered. He nodded, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder.
“You know how I know I love you?” Fernando asked, drawing invisible patterns on your back, “there’s an engagement ring in the third drawer of my bedside table.”
You hesitated for a second, but he knew you well. Better than anyone else.
“I know what you said, I just wanted to let you know. I bought it a week after you moved in with me. I know we’re rewinding a little bit for now, but you’ll be my wife one day.”
“And what if I refuse when you propose?” You smirked, and he pulled your leg over his waist.
“You won’t.”
Note: UGH IDK GUYS :(
3K notes · View notes
jinxsequin · 12 days ago
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COSMIC ✧˖*°࿐
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| au!powder x fem!reader
| wc: 6.4k
| summary: being in love with your best friend becomes complicated
| content/warnings: men dni, no mention of y/n, best friends to lovers, bestfriend!ekko, set in ep 7 au except vi and cait are alive and thriving (pretend they all survived that explosion), basically everyone is alive and well apart from powder&vi's parents LMAO, kind of wrote this as a cope, possibly ooc powder (and cait), r and powder are both oblivious, mentions of anxiety and poor mental health, alcohol mentioned briefly, slightly angsty, fluff, kissing/making out, slightly suggestive, lazy writing
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After a long day at the academy, you wanted to do absolutely nothing but crawl into bed and avoid any social interaction until you’re inevitably forced to face reality again. That option however, was no longer available since you’d done that enough times the past few weeks for the label of social recluse to become a little too fitting. So here you found yourself, at The Last Drop, doing the second best thing, people-watching whilst Powder worked behind the bar. 
Vi and Cait were currently engrossed in what looked to be the most engaging, riveting conversation across the bar, Vi’s arm slung around Cait’s shoulder, carding the midnight blue strands through her fingers periodically, Cait’s hand settled on Vi’s thigh in return. But to the carefully trained eye of a self-proclaimed people-watcher (in the least creepy way possible), and in general how accustomed you’ve become to Cait and Vi, you know they were having the most casual exchange about the silliest thing ever, they’re just so wrapped up in their own bubble, seriously, if it was possible you’d actually believe you could physically see the hearts floating around them - they were completely and entirely enamoured with each other. But it was the look in their eyes that struck you unexpectedly with a sickening sense of yearning. It filled you with inexplicable joy to see someone you’d grown up alongside, with an unspeakably painful past and admittedly not-so-easy upbringing, get to be happy and doted on. If anyone deserved that it was Vi and her huge heart, after putting everyone before herself her entire adolescence. And Caitlyn, though she and Powder may not have got along like a house on fire in the beginning, had won over everyone’s hearts eventually. Her heart was always in the right place, and she was constantly surrounded by such a warm energy, it was impossible to not be open and comfortable around her. Involuntarily, every time you thought about it you found yourself aching for a connection like theirs. Sure, you were a tiny bit envious, but it gave you that glimmer of hope. With who? Well. 
A damp cloth thrown at your shoulder pulled you out of your whirlwind. 
“Hey toots, still here?” Powder said, settling at your side. 
Powder. When your parents’ lives were lost in the war, Benzo had kindly taken you under his wing when you had no family to turn to. Ekko had quickly befriended you, and the two of you remained close in the present. Of course, as Ekko often hung around Vi, Claggor, Mylo and Powder, they were all introduced to you and a bond had been inevitably struck. From an early age you and Powder had clicked, the pair of you naive and bright-eyed, brimming with excitement and potential. Your shared interests and passions had led you both to study at the academy, where you remained glued to each other's sides, if there was one of you around, anyone who knew the two of you, was well aware that the other would be lingering close by. 
So what was different? As of late, being in her proximity had begun to make an uncomfortable feeling twist around your spine and find its home in you. You had spent countless restless nights, racking your brain of the timeline of events that could have possibly led up to this. Maybe it was the air, the weather, the holiday spirit? It was to no avail, however, as you simply couldn't pinpoint when or where this feeling had crept in. It wasn’t uncomfortable in the way that you didn’t want to be around Powder, no, rather, it was the opposite. You couldn’t stay away. And your dynamic didn’t help, you spent nearly every waking moment together, and even then often slept in her presence too. But it terrified you. The two of you, in many of your plentiful late night oil burning sessions, had spoken in depth of the fear of change in many contexts. You’d never explicitly talked about it in regards to your friendship, but that went without saying. Change couldn’t happen. You didn’t want it to either, right? You repeated the mantra to lull yourself to sleep on such harrowing nights. It won’t happen. You were at a loss, but you knew you wouldn't give up what you had for the world, so it was buried as well as you could.
“Umm, space girl, I’m pretty sure I’m not talking to myself over here,” Powder snarked, pulling you once again from your spiralling, a teasing grin on her face.
“Huh?” You replied, still dazed, pulling the cloth off and playing with it absentmindedly in your hands before finally meeting her eyes. “I mean yeah, I was just waiting here till you got off.”
Your gaze impulsively drifted back to the couple again, their foreheads pressed together now as tipsy giggles were shared between the two. 
“Well good news, sugar, Vander let me off early,” she returned in a sing-song tone, shooting you a strange look at your disorientated behaviour before following your line of vision and landing on the pair. She scrunched her nose slightly in mock disgust before letting out a soft sigh. 
“Positively sickening, aren’t they.”
“Right. I don’t know how many me and who’s I have left in me anymore,” you shared, before shaking your head slightly as if to finally pull yourself away. 
Powder’s gaze turned back to you at that, a few seconds of silence as your words settled. An unfathomable expression crossed her face, before a small smile settled on her lips. 
“Wanna get out of here?” she said, your attention fully returned to her as she held out her arm. 
“Lead the way, captain,” you affirmed, linking your arm with her inviting one, leaning into her warmth as her smile widened, knowing another quiet night unwinding in her hideout is just what the both of you needed.  
Idle chatter over the hum of the night occupied your minds and tongues until you reached Powder’s beloved workshop, whereby you both threw down your belongings and settled on the couch to watch the lights wrapping the lanes in that soft, familiar golden glow. 
“I would so not!” Powder shrieked indignantly, watching as you double over in laughter. 
“You would! I see it now, you in a fancy white lab coat somewhere topside, tinkering away-”, you added, giggling at the ridiculous image in your head of future mad scientist Powder. 
“Not!” she interrupted, entirely opposed to your idea. 
“Would! I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if you discovered something like magic, somehow,” you said, though there’s a serious element to your teasing. She’s a genius, there’s no doubt in your mind that she could if she put her mind to it.
“Not gonna happen,” she replied, rolling her eyes though a faint blush at your incessant teasing formed across her cheeks. 
“Maybe in another universe, then.”
“Hm,” she tilted her head, and turned back to you, shoulder brushing yours. “Where are you in all this then?”
“Hmmmm,” you put your finger to your chin in mock wonder, “you probably cracked some code and figured out how to fuse us together so we actually never separate,” you joke. 
Powder looked at you for a moment before finally cracking, the sweet sound of her unfiltered laughter hitting your ears and filling your heart with its warmth. 
“Okay, that sounds more like me now,” she replied once the laughter subsided, head finding a place on your shoulder. That squeamish feeling resurfaced for a moment at the tenderness of her contact, but you brushed it off as quickly as it arrived, leaning in to her.
“Told ya.”
“Maybe, but…,” she unexpectedly spoke up again. Her blue eyes find yours as you silently encourage her to expand on her thought. “Sure, Zaun isn’t perfect,” she carried on quietly, slightly leaning up to rest her chin on your shoulder. You shivered slightly. “And yeah, maybe I do want to do things but I’d do them for the sake of this place, to improve the quality of life here. I’m happy here. With everyone. With you. I’d want to do it with you,” she finished, eyes searching yours, as if awaiting your reaction. Your heart skipped several beats, you swore, how would you live if she continued to throw out such heartfelt statements in a casual conversation?
“Hell yeah, you would,” you finally managed to get out, eyes still on her face, “and I’d be right there throughout, like your little cheerleader.”
The intensity of the moment dissipates with Powder’s snort at your reply . “Always the sap, toots,” she opts for, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to bring you closer as the drowsiness begins to fall over the two of you.
˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊
It was a few weeks later when you, Powder and Ekko found yourselves poring over blueprints for a project in the early hours of the night. The Last Drop had closed early, courtesy of it being a weekday and the cold weather. The three of you were the only people sat at a table inside, Vander having trusted Powder to lock up responsibly.
Ekko let out a loud sigh as he leaned back in his chair. “I wonder when this’ll finally end.”
You hummed in agreement, the hours spent grinding away wearing away at your patience. “The Innovator’s Competition is less than a month away, we’ll have to have it done before then. I can’t wait though.” You mimicked Ekko, slouching back in your chair. 
“It can’t just be a throwaway project. It has to be perfect,” Powder ran her hands through her hair frustratedly, the half-up-and-down-do hanging on for life. You and Ekko groaned in sync at that, you’d been at it for hours and though you shared the same perfectionist ideas about the project, she’d been particularly antsy today. 
“Look, maybe we should wrap it up for today. Revisit it tomorrow with a fresher mind,” you offered, stretching out your legs. 
Powder nodded in relent. Ekko leaned up, instantly beginning to pack away his things. “Yeah, you can say that again,” he chuckled. “I’m gonna head home now. You coming with?” he looked to you for your response, though the teasing smile on his face told you he was already aware of your answer. 
“No,” you replied, observing Powder's worn-out figure, “I think I’m gonna hang around for a bit. I’ll catch you later though, Ekko.”
He slung his bag over his shoulder, turning to you both as he began to walk out. “Night then, don’t stay up firing your brain cells for too long!” 
You and Powder both snickered at that, waving him off. A comfortable silence blanketed the pair of you as you began packing away the day’s work, hands brushing ever so often. Powder stood up eventually, brushing herself off and walked up to the window overlooking the streets of Zaun.
“Oh my god!” She suddenly whispered excitedly, turning her head to you with a  delighted grin. Your heart twisted in your chest. “C’mere, look!”
You pushed yourself off the chair at her command, quickly approaching where she stood at the long window. Sure enough, a dusting of snow had crowned the lanes of the city, countless snowflakes continuing to make their home on the surroundings that were fortunate enough to be above ground and not sunken under. Powder’s eyes remained fixated on the side of your face as you watched, fascinated.
“Snow,” you breathed out, “it’s beautiful.” Snow was rare in Zaun, the last time you remembered seeing it vaguely was an impromptu visit to Piltoever when you were much younger, so it was an entirely exciting experience witnessing it now.
“Right,” she mumbled in reply, her stare returning to the landscape. 
“We absolutely have to go out!” You said, enlivened once again by the weather, running to grab something warm enough to step out in. Powder turned around, watching your rapid movement. 
“What, right now??” she replied sceptically, though her actions betrayed her as she copied you, picking up the coat she’d shed earlier.
“Umm, yes. You’re not arguing with me on this,” you shot back adamantly, already wrapping a scarf around your exposed neck and halfway out. Powder rolled her eyes in response, despite the fond smile adorning her lips. 
Regret. That’s what you were beginning to feel, crouching behind the fence of a small plot of land, hiding from Powder’s impromptu snowball attack. All thoughts of the troubles of your project entirely forgotten as she threw herself into a stubborn fight. You were out of breath by the time you had even managed to lob one back at her. There was no way this was fair game, you thought to yourself as you squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation. A rustle nearby broke you out of your thoughts, and a lump of snow hitting your arm had you fleeing from your place of refuge, jumping over the fence and onto the snow-covered land.
“There’s no running from me, sucker!” Powder’s cackle sounded through the night, footsteps close behind you as you narrowly dodged another hit. 
“Give me a chance at least!” You yelled back, refusing to glance behind. You had almost outrun her when the inevitable happened, and you landed on the blanketed ground with a thud. Unfortunately for you, Powder had been much closer behind you than you had anticipated, so when you were knocked down, she’d crash landed on top, her legs entrapping your body. 
“Ughhh…” she sounded out after as she leaned up a little on her elbows. She brushed the overgrown bangs out of her face, hair completely wild now. Her eyes scrutinised your face, assessing for any damage. “You good?” she asked tentatively, worry flickering over her face. 
All you could do was nod in response. Any words that you had ready at your disposal had all vanished at the unexpected proximity, and though at the initial impact your bones had been chilled, you now felt an overwhelming burning sensation everywhere. Her hand slowly reached out towards your cheek, brushing away the snowflakes that had settled there. Okay, now your heart was actually going to be catapulted out of your chest with its vicious thumping. Her gaze remained centred on your face, before she leaned in closer. 
“Gotcha,” she murmured, watching your reddening face as she broke into laughter, finally relenting and sitting up. Despite your quiet sigh of relief, your body instantly craved the contact lost. You shook your head before sitting up a little, watching as she occupied herself with making a snow angel besides you.
“Cheater,” you finally grumbled out, though your words had no bite. 
“Won fair and square toots, accept it or not!” Powder quickly retorted, offering you her hand as a grip as she towered above you now, a goofy grin on her face at her so-called victory. 
Up in her hideout, you busied yourself setting up a cover and a blanket on the floor of Powder’s makeshift bedroom whilst she finished up changing in her closet. You were half way through tucking yourself in when Powder re-entered, eyes searching for you in confusion before landing on your figure on the floor. 
She threw herself on the bed before throwing you a puzzled look. “Why are you on the floor?”
“Just…thought I’d be better off here tonight,” you replied, looking up at her and trying your best to keep a casual tone. 
“Okay,” her eyebrows furrowed in further doubt, “but why?”
At the beginning of your friendship, when you’d grown comfortable enough to be able to stay over, you’d began by setting out blankets and pillows on the floor whilst she slept on the bed, though she’d offered it to you and was turned down countlessly. This routine had carried on for only a short while though, because with how drawn to each other you were you’d quickly been able to feel safe enough to sleep in the same bed. As of recent though, that godforsaken feeling you were hoping would fade away on its own had only grown stronger, as if it was feeding off any interaction and proximity you had with Powder. Suffice to say, it had become the subject of many overthinking sessions spent in your own bed, tossing and turning tirelessly. It would of course be entirely amplified lying besides her, but you’d sucked it up and taken it for a spell. Tonight, however, after the earlier event you had barely recovered from - seriously, you think your heart needs to be professionally checked - you took it upon yourself to take to the floor, too afraid of the intensity of the alternative.
At your unintentional silence in response to her question, Powder frowned, turning away and lying down. “Okay, if you want your space, I get it. G’night,” she said softly, facing away from you.
You laid down, stomach twisting at the thought of her thinking you were upset at her, knowing that was often the conclusion she jumped to when you were slightly distant or off with her. You wanted to reach out, comfort her, assure her she had done nothing wrong, but a meek goodnight was all you could offer before you similarly turned away and closed your eyes. 
You couldn’t tell how many hours had passed, or if any had passed at all but your unease was relentless, you’d almost nodded off about ten times already before your body would pull you out of almost-slumber and leave you awake with your troubling thoughts again. A combination of guilt and the freezing cold seeping into every bone in your body was going to keep you up all night, you acknowledged as you resigned to your fate, turning to lay flat on your back. 
A shifting in the sheet from the bed above interrupted the silence, Powder’s similarly sleep deprived figure peered down at you, a disgruntled expression on her face.
“Okay,” she rasped, “this is ridiculous. Come here.” She held out the blanket, inviting you in. 
Fuck it, there wasn’t a second of hesitation in the way you got up and crawled in, instantly calmed by the warmth her body offered. Who were you to say no to that? All feelings of discomfort and fear and anything in between melted away under her touch. Drowsiness finally draped over the two of you, her arm coming to rest over your waist and her head nestled in the crook between your neck and shoulder, blue locks tickling your cheek.
“Silly,” she mumbled into your neck, the last words that were spoken before sleep fell over you both. 
˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊
“Well, you look rough,” are the first kind words that tumble out of Ekko the next morning when you reluctantly enter Benzo’s workshop for your shared shift. 
“Wow thank you, buster, how kind,” you grumbled, coming behind the counter to take a seat next to Ekko. Working at Benzo’s wasn’t terrible, and even though it was only the three of you usually running the ship, it was manageable. Besides, haggling with clueless customers alongside Ekko usually provided good entertainment. Just not this morning, not after the tumultuous storm brewing in your head. 
The gentle smell of lavender hit you, before Ekko handed over a warm cup of herbal tea. You accept it gratefully, raising it to your lips and facing the door, and whatever else the day may bring. 
“Are you seriously not going to tell me what’s up?” Ekko sighed out exasperatedly.
“Nothing, dude, seriously,” you turned back to him, nervous at how easily he can always read you. “Just got a lot on my mind right now.”
“A problem shared is a problem halved is a problem solved, as the Professor puts it,” he quipped back playfully, prodding your forearm. 
“There’s no way you’re quoting the Professor to me right now,” you deadpanned, shooting him a look. 
“What I mean to say is, it’ll probably help if you talk it out, ” Ekko carried on, “besides I always tell you shit! This is only fair.”
You rolled your eyes lightheartedly, before relenting. “Fine, it’s just Pow-” Your sentence is interrupted with Ekko’s stifled laugh.
You narrowed your eyes at him, “Okay, what the fuck is that about?”
“Nothing!” he straightened his expression quickly, prompting you to carry on. 
You shot him a final warning look before hesitantly carrying on. Fuck it, you’re this far in now, might as well spill. “I don’t know. I can barely keep my composure around Powder anymore. I can’t figure out what’s shifted.”
Ekko smiled in understanding before patting your shoulder. “That, my friend, is what happens when you hold it in for too long.” 
“What?!!”
“What!” he held his free hand up in mock surrender, “I’m just saying, it’s so obvious to anyone in the vicinity of you both that there’s something there. Seriously, a charge that could rival the strongest of currents,” he shook his head, a playful grin on his face he didn't hold back.
“It’s not like that for her. Well at least, I don’t think so,” you groaned, head in your hands. “Anytime I think a move might be made, it’s snatched away. But at the same time every thing we do is the same as it’s always been, just…intensified.”
“Well, I can’t speak for her,” Ekko replied contemplatively, “but what I do know is you just need to have an honest conversation about how you feel, and where you stand.” 
“When did you become so wise?” you muttered, looking up at him full of genuine gratefulness.  
“When did you both become so blindly oblivious?” he shot back boldly, returning your grin. Your comeback was stifled by the entrance of your first customer of the day, the familiar bell of the door sounding through the shop as they made their way to the counter. 
“And for the record, can I just say I fucking knew it,” Ekko enthused under his breath as you got up to greet the customer. 
“Ekko!”
˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊
It was later that day when you decided to suck it up and take Ekko’s advice. How bad could it really go, the conversation was going to be inevitable at some point if you wanted to retain your sanity. Trekking through the light snow to The Last Drop, where you knew Powder would be working tonight didn’t take too long, but long enough for all the anxious thoughts to resurface. Your head was already boiling by the time you took a seat at the bustling bar.  
Vander looked up at the sound of you pushing the stool in. “Hi kid,” he chuckled fondly at your tired wave as a form of greeting. He turned away for a second, gesturing to Powder at the other end of the bar counter of your arrival.
“Oh hey, pretty lady, come here often?” Powder teased mock-seductively the moment her eyes landed on your tense figure, walking to stand across from you. You tried your best to act normal, but the way your heart was doing flips in your chest as she poured a fruity drink and pushed it towards you was becoming extremely hard to ignore.
“Hey Pow,” you replied softly, taking the drink gratefully. She shot Vander a look, wordlessly asking for a break so she could be closer. Vander obliged without a second of hesitation with a wave of his hand, as Powder made her way to the front of the bar, taking a seat next to you. 
“I’m going to need you to do that haircut soon, trinket,” she huffed, blowing away the long, overgrown bangs that refused to be pinned into the two space buns she currently had hair pulled into. Powder had swore she would never go to Zaun’s infamous barber again, after her disastrous last visit that ended with extremely choppy bangs. You still thought they were adorable, and with her face she could absolutely pull it off. But that was you, and you were perhaps a little biased. Since then, she’d only entrusted you with scissors near her hair, and had mentioned another haircut briefly earlier this morning when you’d awoken in her room. 
“Okay, I’ll come over and do it soon,” you returned, never one to turn down her requests. The piece of hair flew down again, and this time your hand automatically reached out to tuck it behind her ear. The boldness of your action didn’t register until you accidentally brushed her cheek, which was blazing under her fiery blush. Fuck. You couldn’t do it, you thought, as all plans of health communication flew out the window. You’d resign yourself to playing this game for the rest of your life if you had to, but you were convinced you’d never have the courage to even think about being more with her, hurt you as it might. You quickly dropped your hand as fast as it had reached towards her, oblivious to the way Powder chased your touch. 
“Oh! Almost forgot!” Powder perked up, the tension of the moment snapping with her exclamation. “Here,” she opened up your palm, pushing something miniscule ino it. 
You furrowed your eyebrows, glancing at her in confusion. She didn’t speak, just nodded at you as if to encourage you to look. You opened your palm, and there sat a snow globe. It was obviously handmade, her love and care clearly poured into it. You shook it, watching as the blizzard inside swirled around the landscape before settling, two miniscule figures of the two of you in the middle. A strong sense of emotion, intensified by the months of containing it, crashed over you as you stared at it in awe, and you were dismayed to find tears prickling at your eyes so quickly. 
“I love it,” you managed to choke out, meeting Powder’s adoring grin. 
“I’m glad,” she replied genuinely, before realising you were at the verge of tears. Her hands found your shoulders, attempting to ground you. “Whoa there, trinket. It’s just a snowglobe, what’s wrong?” her eyebrows drawn together in concern.
“Feels different,” you mumbled out, free hand coming up to wipe away your vulnerability. 
Powder was stumped at that, worried gaze still roaming over your flushed face. She pulled her arms away from where they’d just been placed on your shoulders, and tentatively took your hand in hers. “It’s not,” she opted for, “nothing’s different, nothing changed okay?” 
The blood drained from your face at that, your body throwing itself into another whirlwind of emotions at the implication of her words. You knew she was just saying what she thought would be the best response to your nonsensical statement, but it didn’t hurt any less. 
“I know,” you eventually replied quietly, gingerly squeezing her hand instead of acknowledging the anxious frown that had settled over her face. 
˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊
Since that night, you hadn’t seen Powder for the majority of the next three days, and when you had hung out between that time, it was to work on the upcoming project as a trio. This had already slightly confused Powder, though it might have been a normal amount of time to have hung out, it was definitely out of the usual for you two, who had often been told by Vander, Silco and others alike, that you were actually joined at the hip. But what had actually thrown Powder into bewilderment was how you had rushed off home after insisting you had a lot of work to do, instead of staying past hours together as was so often your routine. She was struck between feeling distraught at the idea she had upset you somehow, and guilty at letting her mind run wild when it could be down to wanting your personal space. Come to think of it, you had been acting weird for a while now.
In an attempt to quieten the voices and to gain some peace of mind, Powder found herself in a place she would not often come alone. Piltover. She slipped the spare key she had been entrusted with into the keyhole of her sister and her sister’s girlfriend’s shared house, making her way over to the kitchen table. She laid her head on the surface, welcoming the cooling feeling. No one seemed to be home, which Powder was grateful for, as she didn’t think she’d have a good excuse as to why she’d dropped by so suddenly and unannounced. 
“Hello??” A voice sounded through the silence of the kitchen, it seemed her wish was not granted. 
Powder reluctantly raised her head and propped up her elbows, resting her face on her hands in an attempt to look as nonchalant as possible. 
“Powder?” Caitlyn asked incredulously, as if her eyes were deceiving her, though she quickly crossed the room to sit across from her, a twinkle in her eye. 
“The one and only,” Powder answered with a toothy grin despite herself.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Caitlyn quipped, reaching out for the orange juice carton and two cups. 
Powder’s eyes flicked around the room anxiously at that, biting at her lower lip. She hadn’t anticipated answering to anybody right now, but maybe it was a blessing in disguise with the heavy thoughts weighing down on her. Maybe she would regret opening up so easily, kick herself later, but as Caitlyn offered her a glass, there looked to be no better option than to share what had been preying on her mind. 
“...And she’s been off with me since! I don’t know what I can do to make things right if I don’t know what I did wrong…” Powder finished her run-through of troubling events, her hands thrown up in the air to punctuate her sentence. 
“Sweetheart, you need to know there’s nothing you’ve done wrong. And she doesn’t think that either,” Caitlyn replied thoughtfully, searching for her next words as Powder watched in anticipation, “all this just seems like…some miscommunication. To me that night at the bar was her probably trying to tell you she likes you, in all honesty.”
The drink Powder had taken a sip of constricted her lungs hearing Caitlyn’s response, saving herself at the last second with choked out coughs. Caitlyn flashed her a look of wild concern as Powder gathered herself together. 
“What?” she asked, her voice hoarse. 
Caitlyn broke into a giggle at her shock at something that she thought was entirely obvious, even before this from her own observation. She raised her palm, hand coming over to lay on top of Powder’s own carefully. 
“You know for someone that’s such a well-known genius, you sure do miss what’s right in front of your eyes, and everyone else’s,” she teased lightheartedly. 
Powder’s face scrunched up at her statement. “Fuck, I thought I was doing a good job hiding. Am I really that obvious?” 
“The both of you are, I’m afraid,” Caitlyn laughed. 
“And how do you just know all this shit?” Powder retorted.
“Let's just say I've played this game before,” Caitlyn replied, blue eyes glimmering.
“What? Don't tell me my sister put you through that-”
“Now why the hell was I not invited to this party?” The sound of Vi’s voice rang through the kitchen as she sauntered towards them. Placing a kiss on Caitlyn’s cheek, she turned to Powder and engulfed her in a hug, arms wrapping around her shorter frame tightly. Powder’s eyes widened as she returned the embrace, not expecting the sudden display of affection. 
“Uff, what was that for?” Powder exclaims as Vi finally released her, but not before ruffling through her choppy locks. 
“Can I not hug my baby sister?” Vi grumbled playfully, standing back at Caitlyn’s side as a warm smile spread across the latter's face at the sight of the siblings’ antics. Playful bickering was passed between the pair, before Powder straightened up as if remembering herself, ready to leave. 
“Leaving so soon? You only just got here,” Vi lamented as Powder began bidding her goodbyes. 
“I’ve got…something to do. I’ll be back soon, sis,” Powder promised, before turning to Caitlyn with a warm smile, “and thank you, Cait,” she said, hoping she conveyed the genuinity of her thankfulness.
“Any time, Powder,” Caitlyn shot her a knowing smile back as she took her final leave. 
The house fell back into a content silence as Vi snaked an arm around Cait’s waist, looking at her puzzled. “Did I miss something?”
“You, my dear," Cait pressed a victorious kiss to Vi's cheek, mimicking her early move, “have just lost a bet.” 
˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊
“Thank the gods!” You declared, Ekko nodding vigorously in agreement as the pair of you wrapped up to leave, after a particularly productive session finalising your project. Everything was finally coming together, all the hard work beginning to pay off. Powder had suggested the meeting be in her hideout today, but she’d been uncharacteristically quiet and on edge all evening. You shot her a look now, subtly trying to check up on her. Your heart stuck in your throat when she met your gaze suddenly, clearly needing to say something. You looked away abruptly, ever since that night your emotions had been going haywire around her even more. She’d talk when she was ready. Just as you were about to step out with Ekko, thinking you were in the clear, her hand wrapped around your forearm, holding you in place.
“Can… Can you stay? Just for a bit,” Powder swiftly asked, trying her utmost best to not sound like she was pleading. 
You looked at Ekko for a second, finding he was already looking at you, eyebrow raised in question. He’d been under the impression that you’d already talked, though it was clear to him now that was not the case. You turned back to Powder, who was awaiting your response in apprehension. 
“See ya later, dudes,” Ekko said cheerfully, and you swore you saw the smirk flashing across his features before he circled around and left, leaving you no time to even attempt to argue. 
“Umm…sure, Pow,” you spoke softly, your arm released from her grip. Her eyes softened at the use of her nickname from you, shoulders relaxing slightly. “What’s up?”
Fuck, Powder hadn’t thought that far. She’d just seen you leaving, and the thought of you slipping out of her grasp and no longer near her had made her panic. 
“Will you cut my hair, please?” she managed to save herself, sighing in relief as you silently agreed and followed her back over to an area of her hideout.
Once you were both situated on the floor, you sat on your knees in front of her mirroring her own position, combing through her brightly coloured locks in preparation for the cut. Silence fell over you. Though this would be normal on any other occasion, cutting her hair was usually chaotic, with Powder squirming and moving around too much, you shrieking at her to stop said movement before you gave her a haircut that was so terrible it’d rival the dreaded barber’s. This silence wasn’t your usual comfortable silence, it was full of things left unsaid on both of your sides, the tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. 
You tried to ignore the wild thumping of your heart at the closeness of your current position, combing the bangs across her forehead. The way her eyes traced over every one of your features so thoroughly was certainly doing nothing to help. Every one of Powder’s intentions to talk to you properly tonight were rapidly vanishing from her head, the words stuck in her throat. And yet, she couldn’t take her eyes off you. 
The thought of all the feelings she’d had over the past few months, not too different from your own, came back to her now - the nights she had spent overthinking, the fear of losing you, the fear of change, the doubts she’d had, everything was suddenly too overwhelming as she took the comb you were using out of your hand and placed it down. Your eyes widened with astonishment as she brought her hands to either side of your face, leaning her forehead against yours. The fear of you not reciprocating how she felt was drowned out by the overwhelming desire to be close to you, to taste you. 
“What are you doing?” you dared to murmur, pulse rate quickening. 
Powder let out a shaky breath, her eyes quickly darting from your eyes to your lips and back again. You were pretty convinced you were about to explode. 
“Please, tell me you want this as much as I do,” she pleaded quietly, lips brushing yours. 
“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this,” you whispered back. The sentence had barely left your mouth before Powder connected her lips to yours. You immediately reciprocated, her warm lips pressing deeper against you as she tugged you closer. Your hands went to tangle in her hair, haircut long forgotten. She hummed approvingly, fingers running over your cheekbone, every single doubt and fear between you melted away by the passion of her touch.
When you finally had to pull away to breathe, her forehead rested against yours, eyes bright as she scanned over your equally delighted face. “I’ve always loved you, and that won’t change,” she murmured, her voice so soft and tender despite the weight of her words, your heart skipping several beats and landing in your mouth. 
“I love you too, as if that wasn’t obvious enough already,” you breathed out. Powder giggled in response, the sounds only intensifying by your sudden attack of kisses all over her face. She writhed under your grip, protests not even half-serious as you continued to smother her.
“Stop squirming, I get to do this!” you declared, avoiding her chasing your lips as you pressed your lips against her flushed cheek. Powder finally managed to get a grip on you, strong hands on your hips as she pulled you onto her lap with ease. Just as you lean in to press another soft kiss to the edge of her mouth, she quickly moved her head so your lips landed on hers once again, moving quickly and passionately against them as she brought one hand up to your face again to bring you impossibly closer. Your mind was hazy as you kissed her back fervently, arms coming around her neck to ground yourself. You could barely take a breath in the tiny sliver of time there was that you two are apart, her eyes trained on yours lovingly before she pulls you back in, again and again. 
“I’m not gonna be done with you for a while, babe.”
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| a/n: well here it is!! my first time writing this sort of thing and i feel like it kinda showed but posting regardless because i'm so sick of seeing this in my drafts. pls leave a comment or drop something in my inbox on ur thoughts, they're much appreciated !! <3
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blushweddinggowns · 1 year ago
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I'm all for the angsty overhearing a conversation trope where it's all sad because of a misunderstanding. But I also love the opposite. Overhearing a conversation where the other person is just singing their praises. Especially with Steve and Eddie.
Like Steve being very aware that he likes Eddie, but way too afraid of rejection to actually do anything about it. So he just pines away, and gets closer and closer to him with the full expectation of it never going anywhere. Until one day, he comes to pick Dustin up from Hellfire too early, and he can hear everyone talking through the door. About him. But mostly it's Eddie, his loud voice carrying across the room. And he's just raving about him, and somehow managing to bring him up in conversations that have nothing to do with him.
Do you remember that time Steve saved my life by shoving my guts back into my body? Yeah, that's the level of skill and luck you're going to need to survive this.
Did you guys know that Steve actually gave me this background music? He's weirdly knowledgeable about classical stuff. Isn't that cool? He's so smart and-oh, yeah, the merchant agrees to the deal.
So uh, is Steve maybe seeing anyone? He isn't right? Like he would tell me if he was, wouldn't he?
And he doesn't give a single fuck at the collective groaning of the group whenever he gets going, never failing to pull out the I almost Died saving the world with you card to get them to shut up. And by the time it actually ends, Steve is a glowing, blushing mess who can't stop smiling.
Or the other way around. With Eddie full on assuming he has 0 shot because Steve's, Steve.
The golden boy who could obviously never be into him like that, or any other guy for that matter. So he doesn't do anything about his feelings, he just hangs out with him more and more and falls for him more and more, waiting for the inevitable day when he gets a girlfriend and his fantasies could finally die. Except one day, he spends the night at Steve's, but he isn't in bed when he wakes up. He goes to find him, just to hear him downstairs loudly talking to Robin. Because neither of them know the concept of inside voices when they're together. And he waits at the top, listening in just for the fuck of it, but mostly because he doesn't want to interrupt.
"I just feel like bed sharing the way you guys do is gay as hell," Robin sighed, "Especially at your age. Also, should we even be talking about this with him in the house?"
And before Eddie has time to freak out over that and the possibility he's gotten caught with his feelings, Steve is already answering, "I know right? And don't worry about it, he sleeps like the dead. But I don't know what to do about it. He still hasn't done anything. Am I just reading this whole thing wrong?"
"Well you could try making the first move instead of trying to trick him into doing it," Robin tried.
"And ruin our friendship incase I'm wrong? Yeah, no. Besides, I go like, full dumbass around him when I'm nervous. He's too hot. I'd probably walk into a wall in the middle of professing my undying love."
"Yeah," Robin sighed, "You probably would."
And Eddie is just having a moment upstairs. A full on I think I may have to jump for joy moment. Or even, I think I'm five seconds away from squealing like a teenage girl moment.
Yeah, I like that shit.
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badgerbl00d · 3 months ago
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you've reached situationship central!
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☆ characters: law, kidd (pt. 1)
☆ up next: TBA
☆ summary: being stuck in an on again off again (very indulgent) relationship with either the surgeon of death or captain eustass kidd requires a great deal of patience
☆ content: angsty, happy ending, nsfw, smut, complicated relationship drama, kidd is scottish, 18+ mdni
☆ a/n: hellooo i am finally settled at my uni and hoping to begin writing regularly again and start going through my requests (thank you for all of them by the way).. please enjoy me writing about my top two op crushes rnn <3
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law: 
#i’d forgive him so fast oops | 3.3k words
With Law, all of your meetings are at midnight or after, he’s painfully careful to ensure that no one has even the slightest clue of what your relationship has begun to blossom into– He’s scared of course. Anything could go wrong; his rationality is placed at risk every time you walk past him and he allows himself to indulge (even if for just a second) in the smell of your perfume– strong and floral. It lingers even after you’ve walked past him, ignoring him just like he asked you to do during the working hours on board the Polar Tang. Law does what he can to suppress the sting he feels when you, oh so obediently, listen to him. You do your job too well, he thinks, not even sparing him a glance if you’re not being directly addressed. ‘This is your own fault’, he has to remind himself. It pains him when the crew stays up late playing poker and cards and drinking alcohol, talking about all your hopes and dreams, when you entertain your crewmates with stories and he hears about how you’re there for them all in times of difficulty, a listening ear, a supporting friend, an emotional anchor to the crew. 
Maybe, he thinks, I should end it. He knows that that’s the right answer, if you’re just friends he might allow himself to be welcomed into the radiance and warmth around you that he denies himself and has instructed you to deny to him. He’s too scared to lose you now.
On late nights, Law lays in bed, his room hazy from the cigarette he lets burn in an ashtray you gifted him and he thinks about the few direct conversations you’ve had about your… situation. That’s what you had called it, “Law,” you had said, “We have to talk about…”
“About what?” He still beats himself up over how he delivered that question, biting and poisonous. He can’t shake the memory of the frown it elicited on your face. 
“Y/n, we don’t have to talk. Please, let’s not talk. Talking means we have to confront the reality of the situation.”
That was what he should’ve said. Instead his tongue betrayed him, acting faster than he could register. About what? Idiot, he thought. 
You took a deep breath before answering him, “About us, Law. Our… situation.” 
He had scoffed at you. Let out an indifferent huff, as though the matter was beneath him. His chest aches when he thinks about it now. The hurt on your face was so obvious. 
“So talk.” 
It was dark that night. He can’t remember if tears pooled on your lower lashes, or if it was a trick of the slight bit of light pouring into the dark room. He chooses to believe the latter option. 
“What are we doing? I can’t… I don’t want to continue like this. Secret and hidden– I want to, I want to be able to talk to you during the day. To tell you about how I am and ask you about yourself I want to help you and be there for you. To kiss you whenever and hold your hand–”
“So do I,” he should have said, “I want that too.”
“You are there for me,” was his reply, instead, “As my trusted crewmate. And I never said you couldn’t talk to me, but I maintain my position. We can’t be discovered, the risks are-”
“Oh!” you exclaimed, sighing, “The risks? Our entire life is a risk. You think the crew would care? And what does it matter what you’ve said– it’s how you act. I’ve tried talking to you and you treat me with such an awful indifference Law. I respect your intelligence and leadership so please don’t act stupid. 
What am I to you?”
He paused. Wrong move.
Your bottom lip trembled as you closed your eyes and inhaled. His memory doesn’t serve him very well but if you did cry that night it was now that the tears flowed. 
“Okay,” you said, your voice incredibly soft. You had accepted defeat. He wanted to tear his skin off. This was agony. Why couldn’t he just say what he felt? 
“I want you,” he says to himself now, picking the cigarette back up, placing it between his lips, “I love you.” 
Three weeks too late, he thinks. The cigarette burns in the back of his throat, his chest filling with an uncomfortable warmth. 
The last few weeks had been uncomfortable to say the least. You refused to talk to him, and he didn’t blame you. He barely saw you, the last time he’d gotten a proper look at your face was six days ago now. You looked beautiful, maybe he should have said something. 
He lost track of time. An hour has passed now since he laid down to smoke, or has it been two? His head is spinning, never has regret gripped his heart so aggressively. 
The aching in his chest tugs him out of bed and into the hallway. He finds himself walking toward the library where he knows you’ll be. 
Where less than a month ago you were sat on his lap, soft arms gently wrapped around his shoulders as he kissed up and down your arms, buried inside you.
He missed your warmth, the way just being in your presence felt like sitting next to a fireplace, drinking a cup of tea. Your touch soft and reassuring, Fuck, he thinks, fuck.
The coolness of the metal floor jolts him out of his daze, he’s moving with a purpose now. 
It’s not too late, he reassures himself. 
The library door is closed, a warm light pours out into the cool, blue hallway from underneath the door. His hand hovers over the door knob for a moment, listening. Silence. 
Law gently opens the door, and is welcomed by the sight of you fast asleep on Shachi’s shoulder, your crewmate’s arm wrapped around you.
Law pauses, Shachi looks up. He subdues the jealousy that quickly spreads throughout his body.
Shachi shoots him a look, as if to say, “I’m doing my best.”
Law’s throat hurts, speaking is too risky. He sends back a puzzled look.
Shachi beckons him over, placing his free hand up to his lips, “Shh.”
Law’s head feels like it’s about to explode. He can’t do this right now. His stomach twists at the sight of his crewmate’s arm around you. He was always so mesmerized by how you slept– envious, even, at how gently your eyes closed, how your soft lips parted once you were out, how deeply you slept. 
His mind slips from him, replaying memories of how you’d cling to him when spending the night in his room, your arms securely around his neck, your face tucked into him. The sound of you giggling in the morning when he’d wake you up with kisses peppered all over your face and neck, trailing down and down your body. He inhales, trying to recollect himself– The memory of your body is overpowering. His hands clench into fists at his sides.
“She’s been asleep for about two hours,” Shachi started. Law’s chest tightened, two hours?
“I didn’t know what to say to her. She’s so… sad. Some guy, I think, broke her heart. Or, is currently breaking it. I don’t want to pry. Maybe you should talk to her?”
Law concentrated all of his efforts on answering his subordinate to avoid collapsing to the floor and begging you for forgiveness right then and there, Shachi be damned. His worst crime, in all of his life, he thought, is to have done this to you. 
The thought of being ‘some guy’ that broke your heart nauseates him, he has to fix this.
“Captain?” Shachi seemed to have picked up on Law’s distress.
“Shachi,” Law started, his eyes fixed on you– his expression must have been something pained, or regretful, “Leave her here. Go to bed.”
Shachi’s brows furrowed. Law tore his eyes away from you to look at him, “I’ll take care of her.” 
The redhead quickly picked up on the subtext and inhaled, about to say something but bit his tongue. Shachi gently removed his arm from around your shoulders, propping your head up on the sofa behind you and stood quietly, making room for Law. 
“Captain,” he started, shooting him a look that wasn’t quite placeable. Disappointment? Anger? It wasn’t either, perhaps something in between, he decided you were capable enough to handle this yourself, “I’ll see you in the morning.” 
Law sat down next to you. He wanted to laugh. You had a way about you, even in such a moment of difficulty for Law, that made him want to give into you completely. God knows he had spent every second he’d known you fighting that urge. You slept on, completely undisturbed by any of the commotion around you. A strand of hair fell across your face, an obstruction to an otherwise perfect view. He brought a hand up to it, gently pushing it to the side, tucking it behind your ear. You stir, slightly. 
He hates himself, he thinks as he brings a firm hand to your arm, and gently shakes you to a conscious state. 
You wake with droopy eyelids, sleep still generously distributed throughout your body. It pains him to wake you, he knows you need the rest. He watches your lashes touch your rosy cheeks as you blink your eyes open, gathering your surroundings. You yawn, stretching your hands above your head, your shirt rising just enough to show off your lower tummy. Law curses whatever devil placed you in his life. 
“Mmm.. What time ‘s it, Chi?” you ask. Jealousy rears its ugly head in Law’s chest at the use of a nickname for Shachi. 
Law clears his throat, “One twenty three in the morning.” 
You jolt, straightening your posture, upon recognizing your captain’s unmistakably deep, tired voice. 
“Law,” you say, looking at him, “I was just leaving, actually. Shachi was supposed to wake me up an hour ago..” You adjust the hem of your shirt and push your hair out of your face. An awkward silence filled the room– an awful reminder of how fucked up your… situation had become. 
You can’t bear it, Law can tell, any more than he can. Your discomfort is obvious and he hates to be the root of it. 
“Well, goodnight,” you say standing. Your voice wavers. 
“Y/n,” Law says, “Sit. Please.” 
You wanted nothing more than to tell him to fuck off. You’d even rehearsed it with Ikkaku.
“Fuck you Law,” you’d practiced, “Fuck you and never speak to me again I never want to be around you. You’re so…”
That was usually where Ikkaku would have some suggestions:
“Immature? Selfish? Mean? Evil? Misogynistic? Fuck that guy.”
“Yeah,” you’d agree, “But I don’t think I can say that to him directly, he is the Captain after all.”
“He’s also a doctor,” she’d observed, “But you don’t seem very healed to me.”
These conversations replayed in your head as you sat down, following his orders. 
You kept your gaze focused downward, your bare feet shuffled awkwardly against the carpet. 
“We should vacuum this,” you said, “Feels kinda dusty.” 
Silence settled between the two of you. It was unbearable. 
You continued, “I’ll mention it to Penguin, um, I know he likes stuff cleaned a certain way. And, oh, right, I meant to tell you about the books we’re picking up at the next port. They ran out of the edition of the Watson book you ordered–”
“Y/n.”
You shut up. You could feel the tears start to well in your eyes. No, goddamnit, you thought, Don’t give him the satisfaction.
“I’m… sorry.”
You looked up at him, a puzzled expression on your face. 
“No, you’re not,” you said. If there were any other noise coming from anywhere on the ship he would not have heard you, you spoke so quietly. 
“No, you’re not,” you repeated. 
Law inhaled, guilt had never had such a physically debilitating effect on his body. 
“Y/n, listen. I am. I can’t sleep, or eat, or think, I can’t–”
“Neither can I, so, thanks for that. It’s been a great few weeks for me.”
He swallowed.  
“Please look at me.” 
You look up, your cheeks coated in two parallel streaks of tears. His eyes are red, the bags under them a deep shade of gray. He really hasn’t slept. You curse yourself as you reach a hand up to his face, and scoot yourself into his lap.
His strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into him, chest to chest, and he places his forehead against yours. 
You feel a small string of tears fall into your lap. He’s crying, you realize. 
“I fucked up,” he says, “I’m sorry.”
He runs a hand up and down your back, it’s unfortunately soothing. You want so badly to push him off of you- deny his touch and affection, but as his hand slows and his grip on you tightens, as he pulls you into him even further and allows himself to indulge in the feeling of your body against his you know that you’ve once again fallen into his trap. 
“I can’t keep doing this, Captain.”
There was a time when hearing his title come from your lips elicited an unspeakably sinful desire within him. Hearing it from your mouth was such a delicious indulgence. Now he knows you use it to distance yourself from him- to avoid using his name. 
“I know, baby,” he says, “I know.”
You sit up in his lap, wiping your tears. 
“I can fix this,” he reassures you, “I promise.”
“How? What is there to fix?”
He’s silent.
“I thought about what you said, that night,” you continue.
‘That night,’ he wants to blow his brains out. That terrible night when he started this, when he couldn’t answer a simple question, when he started the downward spiral of the past three weeks, the tension between the two of you getting worse with each passing day. 
“You’re right, Law,” you went on, “To not have answered my question. We aren’t anything. You’re my captain and I’m your crewmate– nothing more, nothing less.”
You both knew that was a lie. Here you were in the dim candlelight on the library couch, the navy blue ocean stirring just outside the glass window behind you, sitting on his lap letting him hold you. He pulled you into his chest, laying your head down onto his shoulder. You let him. It was a delicate thing, to play such a game of cat and mouse, your roles always shifting back and forth. You let yourself be pulled into him, sinking into his touch, arching your back into his chest doing whatever possible to be closer to him for even just a moment. 
He brought a hand up to run through your hair, and rested his cheek on the side of your head. 
The silence was less bitter this time. You both sit in it for several minutes, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck.
You try to resist the urge for a split second, and then, as usual, cave into his touch. You place a soft kiss on his neck (a spot of complete and absolute weakness for Law). He responds with a kiss on your head. 
He inhales, and you brace yourself.
“Y/n.”
You don’t respond. 
“I love you.” 
Your cheeks immediately are covered by an onslaught of tears you hadn’t even felt forming. You sniffle, wrapping your arms around him tighter. He squeezes you harder, before making you sit up and look at him, face to face. 
He’s given up. He’s never been more fucked than he is now. He watches you, your expression, for a moment. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, he thinks, cheeks pink from his body heat, lashes damp from the tears.
“Y/n, I am sorry,” he wipes away your tears with one hand, the other tangling itself into your hair. You sniffle, a frown settling on your face.
“I want you,” he confesses, “Always. I think about you always and I can’t sleep and I’ve been telling myself that it’s because of work but it’s you. I can’t sleep without you. I can’t think without you. Everything reminds me of you, my pillow still smells like you, your clothes show up in my laundry, you have jewelry on my desk I can’t escape you. I don’t want to.”
You softened at this admission, but with Law there was always a catch. 
“But?” you ask.
He sighs, “If anything were to happen to you I’d be responsible. It felt better, safer to end, or deny things and keep you safe than keep going and risk your safety.”
“I’m a pirate, Law, I’m at risk anyway. Don’t lie to me, that’s not the only reason.”
He kisses your forehead, “I know, I know. I am worried about the risks of another crew finding out or, god forbid, the navy. But I can’t… be without you. I haven’t slept or eaten or… worked, really. I’m scared you don’t feel the same.”
You don’t what overcomes you in that moment, but the next thing you know your lips are attached to his, his hand pulling you into him by your neck.
You whine when he pulls back, ignoring the tears flowing down your cheeks.
He kisses your nose, your forehead, your cheeks as he wipes your tears whispering, “It’s okay, it’s okay… I’m sorry.”
His lips find yours again, and he kisses you more aggressively this time– it’s carnivorous and hungry, his grip on your waist tightens enough to bruise and you wince. 
“L-Law, be gentle,” you whimper.
His grip softens slightly and he pulls away from your mouth to start planting sloppy, wet kisses on your neck.
You mewl, arching your back into him completely melting at his touch. Soft moans escape you as you tug at the hem of his shirt, helping him pull it off.
You run a hand over his abs, savoring the view as he helps you take your own shirt off. 
“Wait, Y/n, wait,” Law manages to get out, his breath heavy and fast, “What are we?”
You laugh, kissing him, slipping your tongue between his lips. He moans and you ignore his question. You pull away a sticky string of saliva connecting your puffy pink lips to his. You can feel how hard he is beneath you, and grind down on it ever so slightly. 
Law bites back a moan, throwing his head back on the couch leaving his neck wide open for you. You gently bite down on his neck, kissing it after. 
You missed him so badly, no one had ever brought out in you what Law did. His confession immediately healed all the previous wounds he’d inflicted on your heart, wounds that only he would have been able to heal anyway.  
“Law, I need you,” you cry.
“I’m here, baby, I’m right here,” he coos, holding you.
“I need you, always. Not conditionally. Not after midnight. Always.”
He sighs, a silent acknowledgement of his wrongs. 
“I’m sorry, Y/n. I’ve never… felt like this. I didn’t want to mess up, I suppose. Or ruin things between us. I’d rather stop this and still be able to see you every day than have you be mine and lose you for it.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Law. I promise.”
He places another kiss on your forehead, sleep begins to take over in Law.  
“Law,” you pout, sitting up, “It’s cold.”
He blinks, taking a moment to process your words, savoring the way you say his name, “Okay, baby, let’s go to my room. Stay the night? Please?”
You think about it for a second, “Okay.”
“I love you,” he says.
You pause. His chest tightens. 
“I love you, too.”
Law picks you up, letting you rest your head on his shoulder as he walks back through the Polar Tang, toward his room. 
He smiles, you’re going to be upset about the smell of smoke. 
“Baby,” he says.
“Hm.”
“Let’s tell everyone at breakfast, tomorrow.”
You perk up, “Tell them what?”
He laughs, and kisses the top of your head, “That you’re mine.”
kidd: 
my fav scottish #pussypounder | 3.9k words
Your vision begins to blur at the edges, as Kidd’s grip on your neck tightens ever so slightly. You’d complain if you were able to form any thoughts other than enjoying the rhythmic slap of his hips against your ass, your mind numb as you begin to drool from the feeling of his heavy balls slapping against your clit. You yelp at the sudden sharp pain of Kidd’s metal hand slapping your ass, it energizes you to match his thrusts halfway. Kidd loves watching you fuck yourself on his big, fat dick in doggy-style, his chest swells with pride at his ability to reduce you to such a pathetic, whiny personal slut for him. The sound of sloppy, wet slaps fills the room, a consistent tempo of plap, plap, plap.
“Feel good, lassie?” Kidd laughs, his pace never faltering.
“Mmmff, fuckkk Kidd, please don’t stop!”
“I‘m getting close, love,” his voice now slightly strained, “Where should I finish, hm?”
“Inside,” you beg, “Please, inside!”
You yelp as his metal hand once again makes harsh contact with the fat of your ass, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you let bliss take over, now approaching your own end. 
“Kidd,” you whine, “Gonna… cum!”
“That’s right, lassie, cream all over me,” Kidd growls. 
His thick accent makes your clit throb, and he can feel you tightening around him.
“Ya like when I talk to ya like that?” his hand moved from your neck to the base of your scalp where he roughly grabbed a generous handful of hair, yanking your head back as he bent over to kiss you.
“Mhmmm,” you moan, your mind completely hazy from the feeling of him sliding in and out of you, “Mmf mmm-”
Kidd pulls away, a deep laugh filling the room, “What’s that, love?”
“Gonna.. cum, daddy!”
Your captain’s pace slows ever so slightly, he savors every inch of pleasure he can draw from your drooling pussy– you know he’s close. 
“Cum with me, sweetheart,” he commands.
It only takes a few more strokes before you oblige, sinking further into the mattress as you release your orgasm and feel Kidd finishing inside you. He indulges you in a few more strokes; he loves watching the creamy, wet mixture the two of you produce whenever he cums inside of you.
“Good girl,” he says as he slowly pulls out, before collapsing on the bed next to you.
“C’mere,” he beckons you toward him, patting his chest for you to lay on. You obey. He brings a hand to your neck, and kisses the top of your head before closing his eyes. He starts snoring a few minutes later. 
To say sex with Kidd was amazing would be the understatement of the year, it was heavenly, divine, rough, passionate, wonderful. He knew your body better than his own, being with him was indescribably delicious. The sex you had filled your mind for days and days after, so much so that Kidd had begun to recognize it on your face when you were thinking about your latest encounter. A dazed, hazy look would cloud your eyes during meetings, dinner, days out in the towns you stopped at. It drove Kidd insane, knowing you were thinking about him that much– and, for the most part, he was always happy to indulge. 
Pulling you (and your panties) to the side whenever he had time, Kidd was a very generous man when it came to you, always happy to give you exactly what you needed. After all, he’d tell himself, he needed you functioning at full capacity and if this was how he needed to remind you of that, who was he to complain? 
He was just as entranced by you, though he’d never admit it out loud. More than once he caught himself seeking you out just to talk, to spend time in your presence. He’d come up with poorly thought out, half-assed excuses to be near you.
“Y/n,” he’d say, “Come help me in the workshop lass, you have small enough hands to fix this screw.”
Or, “Come hold this light while I work, love.”
“Come read with me, sweetheart, I need your opinion on the best kind of metal to use.”
“Grab me an apple from the kitchen, will ya, lassie?”
It was obvious to you, of course, given that it was a fault you yourself echoed through your own actions. 
“Kidd, can you zip up my dress for me?”
“Kidd, could you fasten my necklace for me?”
“Kidd, taste this, tell me if it’s good.”
“Kidd, Kidd, Kidd…”
Everyone else on the crew found it endearing, you brought out something mature in their Captain– which they greatly appreciated. 
“Looks like he just needed to be having sex regularly,” Wire joked. 
You couldn’t disagree. 
You and Kidd worked so well together, you’d found yourselves fighting back to back a handful of times now moving in sync with one another, not having to communicate, simply understanding how the other thinks, moves, works. 
You lost count of how many nights you’d spent in his room, and vice versa. It was terrible to admit but you were attached. You slept better with his chest against your back, strong arm wrapped around you. Your day was better when you woke up to his snoring and got to kiss him awake. 
You laid now on his chest, sweat drying on your forehead and back, wincing internally. 
This wasn’t great. 
Yes, you worked well together and the sex was amazing– but you hadn’t quite worked your way up to admitting that maybe there was a deeper attachment brewing, and you knew your Captain was definitely not thinking that way at all. 
Besides, there was something freeing about the casualty of it all. Kidd was there when you were unbearably horny (which had been often, as of late) and you were there when he was (which, again, had been quite often as of late). 
No strings attached! That was a good thing… Right? You were free to do as you wished, see other people, reconnect with old flames you crossed paths with on the open ocean, and there were no worries about childish feelings or getting hurt. 
Right?
Kidd had fallen asleep, you could hear his soft snores and his hand that had been rubbing your back had fallen limp by his side. 
Fuck, you thought. This wouldn’t do. You liked Kidd, but he was the last person on Earth you needed to fall in love with.
You slowly sat up, inching your way to the edge of the bed. You went to stand, when you were jerked back by a metal finger pulling you by the hem of your panties.
“Where’re ya goin’?” He asked, voice deep and raspy with sleep.
You ignored the heat between your legs. 
“To bed, Kidd. Goodnight.”
He laughed, “Come lay down then.”
You were silent. Why shouldn’t you? You’d slept with him hundreds of times before. 
No attachments. 
“I… sleep better in my bed,” you said. Awful excuse, you noted. 
“Alright then,” he sat up, yawning, “Let’s go to your room, then.”
“Kidd…” you started. You didn’t know what to say. What were you feeling? Attachment? Love? Had you ever really been in love before? What did that even feel like? 
The nature of your relationship was unspoken but mutually understood. This, whatever this was, was casual, no strings attached, sexual, non-exclusive. 
He sat up, making his way to the edge of the bed to sit next to you, “Somethin’ wrong?”
This wasn’t supposed to be hard. It was supposed to be fun, easy, a stress reliever. 
“Um, yeah, I just– I started my period so I have to go wash up and stuff. I’ll see you in the morning,” you lied. 
Something’s wrong, Kidd thought. Say something, he urged himself. 
“Let me take care of you, lassie,” he said, gently placing an arm around your waist, “Think a bit of blood bothers Captain Eustass Kidd?”
You let out an unconvincing laugh, “It’s alright Kidd, I’ll see you tomorrow.” 
You stood, making your way to the door. 
“Alright,” he sighed, lying back down on his bed, sure now that something was wrong with you, “But give me a kiss before ya go.”
You paused at the door, back to your Captain. 
A moment passed.
Another moment. 
“Goodnight then, Y/n.”
You walked out, closing the door behind you, cursing yourself. 
Kidd lied back down, fully awake now. His stomach turned, something resembling nausea settled in his abdomen. Was he too forward? It hardly seemed likely that asking you to stay the night was out of bounds, especially when he had just been buried nine inches deep, emptying a load in you. He sighed, and rolled over onto his stomach as his mind sought a possible explanation. 
You weren’t on your period, that much was certain. Not that he was tracking your cycle, of course. He definitely didn’t go to significant lengths to make sure his schedule was freed up when you ovulated. 
Maybe, he thought, the feeling of nausea increasing, There’s someone else. 
He dismissed the thought quickly, but it ate at him. You leaving so suddenly, not even offering him a kiss goodbye… You didn’t even look at him. 
Kidd, despite the recent calmness he had, was still Kidd and the more he ruminated on the sickening possibility the more real it became. 
That must be it, he convinced himself, What obligation does she have to me anyway? We’re not… together. 
His chest ached, it infuriated him. He spent the better part of the night tossing and turning, contemplating whether he had any right to kick down your door and demand you give him the name of your lover or if he should simply never speak to you again. Should he ask the other members of the crew? He didn’t want to involve them; it was his problem, he decided. 
When inspiration did finally strike around five in the morning, just before the sun had started to rise, he ignored the gut feeling that had begun to indicate that it wasn’t the best idea. 
Tomorrow, he decided, when we stop for supplies I’ll find and flirt with a pretty girl. Give her a taste of her own medicine. With this resolution (that he had absolutely convinced himself was the best approach to the situation) he fell asleep, hard. 
It was too cold, you thought as you lounged in the library of the Victoria Punk, cuddled up by the fire you’d had Heat set for you before he left. You had opted out of going into town, and since you weren’t able to cite lovesickness as a reason you stuck with the period excuse. You didn’t miss how Kidd rolled his eyes at you when you offered the excuse again to him. 
The windows were icy, the temperature continuing to drop as it got later and later. It had quickly heated up in the library, you fanned yourself with an old copy of your favorite book. You passed multiple hours on your reading chair, in a hoodie Kidd had let you borrow months ago. Too bad he’s not here, you thought. You faded in and out of sleep, drowsy from the hot fire and the poor quality of sleep from last night. The sun was set when the peace and quiet was disturbed by the sound of a woman’s light and airy laughter. It carried through the ship, leading you to sit up and turn to look for the source of the sound. 
Your chest tightened at the sight that greeted you, and you were never more desperate for something that could hide the expression of disgust and hurt you felt forming on your face. 
Kidd sauntered on board with his hand around the waist of a woman you’d never seen before. She was wearing a dress notably similar to one you owned that he had complimented multiple times. The longer you looked (though you tried to keep it short) the more you noted similarities between you and her. Similar height, hair color, facial features, bodily assets. The moment you felt your bottom lip tremble you turned back in your chair, standing quickly and gathering your things, making a beeline to your room. 
Kidd made eye contact with you on your way out, eyes slightly widening upon seeing your sweater.
Heat and Wire walked up on board the ship a few minutes later, and shot you a sympathetic look. It was no surprise to them that Kidd was being immature over a simple misunderstanding (he disclosed last night’s events to them in more detail than was necessary) and despite their advice to not follow through with his idiotic plan, he did anyway. 
Kidd immediately knew he had fucked up, bad. The look on your face was enough to tell him that he had crossed a line and clearly had suffered a severe lapse in judgment. He immediately dismissed the woman, leaving Heat and Wire in the extremely awkward position of having to walk her off the ship– they made a mental note to make sure Kidd was on bathroom duty for the next month. He ran after you, but the door to your room was already shut and, he wiggled the handle for a few seconds, locked too.  
He knocked every few minutes, growingly increasingly agitated at your refusal to talk to him. 
Knock, knock. 
“Y/n, c’mon lass, you misunderstood– I don’t even know her!”
“I was just… I was– ugh, I don’t know what I was thinking!”
“I wanted to make you jealous, lass, just open the door so I can explain.”
After the third hour of knocking to no avail Kidd resolved that he would simply wait you out, you had to come out eventually. 
It was another three hours, nearly midnight, by the time you opened your door. Kidd was half asleep when you opened the door, and snapped back to full consciousness when he saw you. 
Your brows were furrowed and you looked at him with more disgust and contempt than usual. He crossed his arms and blocked your path.
“Get out of my way.”
“Talk to me,” he responded.
“About?”
He laughed, your blood boiled, “So you’re not upset? About… anything at all?”
“No, dearest Captain, why on Earth would I be upset?”
“Just tell me what’s wrong.”
You scoffed, “Really, Eustass I didn’t take you for such an idiot. Get out of my way.”
He sighs, a smirk still settled onto his face, and moves to the side, gesturing for you to go ahead.
You walk past him, making your way toward the kitchen. You don’t fail to notice how he tags along beside you. 
“Ugh, Kidd! What? What do you want from me?”
“Tell me why you’re upset.”
“You know why I’m upset, moron.”
“Tsk, tsk, that’s no way to talk to your Captain.”
You bite your lip, “I’m sure she’d talk to you exactly how you want. Stop following me.” You go to take another step, but he grabs your arm pushing you toward the wall of the hallway. He pressed his chest into your back, pinning you against the wall as he bent down bringing his lips to your ear and teasing you with a few kitten licks. 
He grabbed your wrists, holding them against your lower back with an uncharacteristically gentle grip. Like he was daring you to fight back. You relax into his grip, arching your back to rub your ass against his bulge. 
You hate how weak he makes you. 
A deep breath escapes Kidd, sending a jolt of electricity down your spine. Your thighs are starting to get sticky.  A soft moan escapes your lips as he presses his hard cock into the curve of your ass. 
“Mhm,” Kidd teases, “Somethin’ else ya want to tell me, lassie? Go on, use your words.” 
“I don’t have anything to say to you, asshole,” you snap back, trying to suppress the urge to give him the attention he so desperately needs.
“But how often do you keep yourself busy with other women?”
You break. His grip slightly tightens, his confidence faltering for a split second. 
“Ohh,” he remarks, an infuriating smile settling onto his face, “You’re jealous.”
“No, I’m just bored.”
He moves your wrists into his left hand, his right wrapping around to the front of your hips and under your skirt. He runs his thumb along your slit, your panties dripping with arousal. 
“Doesn’t feel like you’re bored, love,” he says, pressing harder against you, “Please, darling, tell me what’s wrong. I already miss you.”
You scoff and roll your eyes, “Right. And you really think I’m stupid enough to believe that? I’ve already told you what’s wrong.”
“I do miss you,” he laughs, “And, no you haven’t. You’re too smart to be truly bothered by my little stunt earlier. Somethin’ else is bothering ya– and don’t say it’s your period I know that’s not true.”
You pouted, refusing to answer the question. 
He ran a thumb over your lips, bending slightly to be able to gently kiss you. You don’t fight back. 
He lets go of your wrists and you turn to face him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders bringing him in for another kiss.
He picks you up and you wrap your legs around him, he presses you into the wall, slipping his tongue past your lips.
This is hell, you think, Just tell him you’re done.
But, then again, you weren’t. That was the issue. 
Your chest was tight and your brain foggy as you pulled away from the kiss. 
Kidd’s chest heaved with heavy, deep breaths as he began the process of regaining his composure. He slowly lowered you down the wall until your feet touched the floor. He leaned against the wall, his metal arm resting above your head, caging you in. He placed a kiss on your forehead, and cupped your face with his right hand, bringing it up to his own. You stood on the tips of your toes and he bent lower to more easily pepper your face in kisses. 
“‘m sorry lassie,” he said, between kisses, “I’m an arse.”
A huge one, you thought. 
You kissed him back, his lips salty with the taste of sweat. 
“Forgive me? Please? I… You mean a lot to me. Don’t be upset, I can't take it.” 
A smile crept onto your face. You placed a hand on his chest, it felt like touching marble. He was so difficult to resist– but your mind flashed you the image of his arm around another woman and you steeled yourself. You pushed him back, slipping out from beneath his grasp walking out of the hallway back toward your own room. 
He followed after you like a dog on a leash.
“Y/n, bonnie lass, hear me out, baby” he pleaded; You walked just fast enough to stay out of his reach, “I am sorry, love.”
You kept walking, your poor Captain trailing behind you uttering pleas, “Y/n, slow down lass, let me explain. She doesn’t mean anything to me, I just wanted to make you jealous.”
You stopped, finally having arrived at your destination.
“Make me jealous?” you repeated, turning to look at him, an expression of disgust settling on your face, “By bringing her on to OUR ship, hm? That was your genius idea, Captain? How did that work out for you?”
He sheepishly looked down at the floor, bringing a hand up to run through his hair. His cheeks were pink with embarrassment.
“Why on Earth would you ever pull some bullshit like that with me? I’d have never done that to you.” 
This did get a rise out of him, “Oh, you’d never? So leaving me last night the way you did– with no explanation and a half-assed excuse is any better? You couldn’t even look at me, you refused to kiss me! Kiss me. It only makes sense you have another man on your mind.”
Your expression slightly relaxed, “Another man– that’s what you really think? That’s what this is all about?”
Kidd was silent, his stubbornness had gotten the better of him.
You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to offer him an explanation. 
“Last night,” you started, “I got scared–” “Scared? Of me?”
“Kidd!”
“Right, sorry, go on then.”
“I realized…” you paused, it was harder to say to his face than you expected, “I like you.”
Kidd’s countenance softened, “Well, lass, I’d hope you like me by now.”
“No, Kidd, I like you– I love–,” you bit your bottom lip, cutting yourself off. 
Your captain’s eyes widened, before a sly smile began to spread on his face. 
You ignored it, “I get that you don’t feel the same, I know this isn’t anything… serious, but–”
His arm shot out to wrap around you and pull you into him, you brought your own hands in front of yourself to push against his chest, maintaining the distance between the two of you. 
“C’mere, lassie,” he laughed, easily overpowering you and hugging you into him, “You’re a stubborn little thing, ya know?”
You huffed, tears pooling on your lower lash line, this was all so frustrating.
“Look at me,” he said, lifting your gaze with a finger under your chin, “I love you, Y/n.”
You looked up at him and the sight of your pink, pouting lips and watery eyes made him dizzy. 
He kissed you, squeezing your cheeks with his warm hand and squeezing your waist with the metal one. You deepened the kiss, slipping your tongue past his lips, reaching behind you to open the door to his bedroom. 
Kidd understood your request plainly, picking you up and walking to his bed with you. The door shut with a harsh bang, drawing you both out of your momentary reverie. 
Your captain gently placed you on the bed, pulling back to admire you.
“You’re the most beautiful woman on the ocean, you know?”
You smiled, blowing him a kiss. Kidd turned to lock the door and started undressing, giving you a moment to catch your breath. Your anxieties had completely evaporated since his lips touched yours, you took a deep breath to process your confessions to each other. 
A smile made its way onto your features and your cheeks darkened. 
Kidd made his way back onto the bed, and pulled you into him, where you laid on top of him resting your chin on his chest. 
“I do love ya, lassie, I wasn’t joking,” he said.
“I know, Captain,” you said, visibly reassuring him. 
“Shall I help you get these off, sweetness?” he asked, tugging at the hem of your shorts.
You nod but hold up a finger, you weren’t quite done reprimanding him.
“Captain,” you said, batting your eyelashes at him.
“Yes, lovely?”
“If you ever pull some shit like that again, I’ll kill you.”
His smile dropped for a split second before he started laughing, and rolled over to pin you against the mattress. 
He bent down to kiss and suck at your neck. 
“Eustass,” you said, voice flat, “I’m serious.”
“Mmm,” he left one more kiss before answering, “I know you are, trust me.
Now let me make it up to ya.”
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mermaidgirl30 · 17 days ago
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✨Saving What Was Lost Part 7: Your Hand In Mine✨
Pre-Outbreak! Joel Miller x fem! reader
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Series Masterlist
A/N: Get ready to meet soft, angsty Joel in this chapter. I would like to give him a big hug 🥺
Chapter Summary: Your first day of therapy is a little scary, but Joel helps you through it.
Rating: 18+ only MDNI
Word Count: 4.7k
Chapter Tags: Soft! Joel, so much angst, yearning, reader goes to therapy, dual POV, age gap (reader late 20’s, Joel late 40’s), mentions of violence and kidnapping, grief
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
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“You nervous?” Joel asks from the driver’s seat, hands locked around the leather steering wheel.
   You nod while your hands fidget with your leggings. “Mmm, a little.” But a little’s a lie. You’re downright terrified. You’ve never been to therapy, never talked about yourself before like that. Well, Joel was the closest. You’ve talked to him, and you’re oddly comfortable with that now. But other than that? You haven’t done this.
   He must see the lie on your worried face and the terror ringing through your wide eyes. Giving you a gentle smile, he turns his focus back to the road ahead that’s shrouded in mist from the December rain. “Don’t be. Tess is great. You’re going to be great, sweetheart. I know it’s scary, but just know you’re taking that first step into the unknown. That first step of healing, and you’re going to do so well. I jus’ know it.”
   He’s always so supportive, so gentle, so easy with you. It makes your heart clench, makes it beat a little more just for him. 
   You take a good look at him. Watch as he cards a hand back through his tousled curls, watch as his green flannel clings to his flexed biceps, watch as that easy smile melts across his plush mouth. He’s just so nice to watch, so easy to keep your eyes trained on. 
   Darting your tongue across your bottom lip, you tilt your head toward him and give him an easy smile. “You’re always so sure about me.”
   “Yeah, guess I am.” He turns his head toward you and gives you a heart-stopping smile. “I guess I see all the potential in those pretty eyes of yours.”
   Your mouth parts, cheeks redden as you repeat that sentence over in your mind. He thinks you have pretty eyes. He’s always so sure of you. 
   Turning back toward the fogged-up passenger window, you lean against the door and smile. A smile that’s bigger than you’ve ever smiled before. You’re completely smitten by the handsome Texas man with big brown eyes. And he’s just continuing to show you how much life is worth living. Telling you how far he thinks you’ll go. But you don’t want to go far in distance. No. You just want to stay right here beside him. You think you’d follow him anywhere.
   When he stops at a red light, you brave another stare at him and smile like your whole heart is right there in his eyes. “Thanks for seeing the potential in me.”
   One side of his mouth curls up into a crooked smile, and his cinnamon-brown eyes sparkle against the windshield. “You’re so welcome, sweetheart.”
   When you catch your breath from melting, you ask, “Sarah said you see Tess, too?”
   He nods as the truck’s engine revs to life again. “She’s right. See her every couple of weeks or so. She’s patient and understanding and she really helps, I think. Helps when the nights get a little too dark for me.”
   The way he says the last sentence, his low voice sounds a little weary like maybe he fights the nights as much as you do. And you don’t miss the flinch in his right eye or the way his hand tightens on the steering wheel. He must get them too. The nightmares that haunt your dreams every few nights. You wish you could just scoop them up, replace them with dreams of ocean tides or snowy mountains filled with deep green trees. You wish you could take away his pain, whatever’s hurting him so deeply. He hides it well—the pain. But sometimes it creeps up on him, and it spills in different shades across his shadows that slip in his brown eyes. That’s something you don’t miss.
   Steady rain pelts against the windows, making the few trees in the distance look like monsters with tangled vines draping low to the ground. You flick your gaze back to Joel in the driver’s seat and another slow smile brushes against your lips. “Thanks again for driving me.”
   “It ain’t no trouble, sweetheart. I’ll drive you till you don’t need me to.”
   Another skipped heartbeat, another butterfly flitting through your stomach. The man is so sweet. 
   Biting your lower lip, you brave a question, mildly testing the waters. “What if I always need you to?” It comes out quiet, but not so quiet that he doesn’t hear you.
   He slows to a halt at a stop sign and turns to face you, eyes sparkling with promises. “Then I’ll be there every single time you need me.”
   “Promise?” 
   Another smile. “Cross my heart.” He folds a hand over his chest, promising once again. 
   You giggle under your breath, your eyes never leaving his. “Well, looks like I can trust you then.”
   “You can always trust me, sweetheart.” And he means it. You can always trust him, and you know that. God, you know that. 
   When the tires start spinning again on the damp pavement and the low sounds of an old Western song plays through the speakers, he clears his throat and speaks. “It’s gonna be a late night for me.”
   You flip your eyes back to him and give him a worried stare. “Do you have to go somewhere?” You already know what that means. He’s got an important job to do. One where he might be gone all night, maybe till morning. 
   He nods subtly. “Got an important run I gotta do with Tommy. So I might not be home till mornin’…” His voice cuts off. He knows you hate it when he’s away so long.
   “Gone the whole night?” Your voice is a meek whisper because you’re afraid what his answer will be. 
   He’s silent a beat. “Afraid so, but hopefully that ain’t the case. But still, even if I am back earlier, it’ll be well after two o’clock in the mornin’.”
   Your stomach churns just thinking about it. When he’s not across the hall when you’re sleeping, when he’s not just mere feet apart from you, it’s like something’s missing. There’s a void in the pit of your stomach, and you can’t seem to unravel that feeling till he’s in your space again. “I hate when you’re gone all night…” Your words falter, they break like your voice shakes.
   “I know, sweetheart. I know.” His right hand drops to the center console, just inches from yours. He seems conflicted, seems like he wants to reach out and graze his calloused skin against yours, but he doesn’t. But he’s trying. He’s still hesitant to touch you because you’re still so unsure of touch. He doesn’t want to scare you, and you know that. He’s just being careful. And maybe you’re still scared of physical touch, but his touch? That warm, gentle, soft graze he sometimes gives you. Well, it feels like sunlight skimming over you. 
   Carefully, you move your fingers in his direction. Just enough where you can feel the heat of his skin. You don’t touch him, not quite. But this is enough. This is your middle ground. “I umm… I worry about you at night when you’re not home. I’m always scared that… that...” You can’t even speak it out loud. You’re scared he won’t come back one night. And you can’t bear the thought of that. 
   His brown eyes soften. “I’ll be alright, sweetheart. I’ll come back. I can promise you that.” You give him a small smile and nod, keeping your fingers right by his just so you can feel the heat cover your own skin. 
   Physical contact is still something you’re struggling with, but you think Joel understands that. And he does. Always so careful around you. Never one to put you in an uncomfortable situation because he does understand your situation. He knows exactly what you’ve been through, and he wouldn’t dare make the wrong move because he doesn’t want to scare you. And you appreciate that. You appreciate him. So this is enough. Right now in this truck—hands centimeters apart, heat gliding over your fingers, a whispered promise that he’s going to take care of you. 
   Yes. This is enough.
   After a few more minutes, Joel’s pulling into a little parking lot, right in front of a tiny building with a lit-up white sign that says "Essence of Healing.” Your heart starts beating faster, your breath tightening in your chest as your eyes scan the brightly-lit sign. “Well, here we are. You ready?” He turns off the ignition and pulls the key out, his brown eyes flitting over to you. 
   You swallow once and nod, an array of emotions spinning in your head. “Yeah, I think so,” you breathe out as calmly as you can.
   He gives you an encouraging smile and pushes the door open. “C’mon, then.” You open the passenger door slowly and close it with a bang, your knees shaky, legs wobbly with every step you take toward the door. 
   This is it. You’re actually going to talk to a therapist for the first time in your life. What if you’re not ready, what if you choke, what if you burst out into tears and can’t sputter words from your choked-up throat? These are all valid questions, ones you never really considered, but you’re here. You have to do this. You have to do it for yourself. You owe that much to yourself. You are worth it.
   When Joel goes up to the front desk with you, the one covered in green succulents and a calming, trickling desk fountain running the corner, you collect all the paperwork you need to fill out and in exchange give her your photo ID. Joel was kind enough to go with you to get a new one since your old one was lost somewhere in Washington. As for health insurance, Joel was paying out of pocket for you to be seen. But he promised he was working to get you on your own health insurance plan. You still don’t know why he’s being so nice to you, but without him, you’d probably be dead by now…
   After a few minutes of fighting with the paperwork and scribbling out wrong information, you’re about to break out in tears. They’re swelling in the backs of your eyes, making your lips quiver and the words blur on the page.
   “Hey. You’re alright,” Joel coos, taking the pen from your shaky hand. “Let me help.” And you do let him. He fills out the questions you couldn’t answer yourself—his home address, your phone number you still haven’t memorized, emergency contact information, insurance details, even going as far as helping you fill out medical questions you’re having trouble with. 
   As you look up at him all focused and intent on getting your paperwork done, a little spark sizzles in your chest. You study him—eyes glued to the page, jaw flexed as his rapt attention is on each question, tousled curls a little disheveled as he cards his fingers attentively while he thumbs through the pages. You’re a little mesmerized, a little surprised he didn’t just leave you to shovel through the numerous papers. Instead, he chose to stay right by your side, saving you from breaking down from the weight of so many unknowns. 
   You’re scared, a little overwhelmed, a little more nervous than you’d like to be. But with Joel, it seems like you can get through anything. 
   When the paperwork is all completed and he’s back at your side, waiting patiently for them to call you back, you feel a little better—like you can do anything if he’s there next to you. Call him your knight in shining armor, but he truly is. He keeps saving you, and you hope he’ll never stop. 
   The nervous jitters start up again when you glance up at the clock. Five till noon, right when your appointment is supposed to be. Your knee is bouncing up and down in tandem with your flexed fingers against your leggings. Fear trickles down your spine, slides into the deepest parts of your veins. And suddenly, you’re downright terrified. 
   You’re about to get up, run out the door, but Joel senses your worry. He slides the back of his hand against yours, brushing your skin gently, a way to say ‘Hey, I’m right here.’ And when you look up and see those big brown eyes gazing softly down at you, you instantly quiet down inside. Your knee stops bouncing, and you’re left with this overwhelming peace that seems to radiate through every part of your body. Like a quiet forest that soothes your soul, that’s what Joel does to you. He makes everything else around you so still, so quiet. 
   When you’re about to say something to break the trance you’re in, you faintly hear your name being called from the open office door.
   You sit up straight and look toward the door, up at the woman that just called your name. “That’s me,” you call out with a shaky voice. 
   “Ahh. There you are.” She strides up to you and holds her hand out. You slowly take it. She has long light brown hair, strong cheekbones, welcoming hazel eyes, and a smile that instantly soothes you. “I’m Tess, by the way. It’s so good to meet you. This one’s told me a lot about you.” She flicks her eyes to Joel.
   When you take her hand, it’s warm. “It’s nice to meet you, Tess. And of course he has.”
   Joel shakes his head and lets a low chuckle leave his lips. “Guilty as charged.”
   “You got lucky with this one. He’s one of the good ones,” Tess nods as your hands disconnect.
   “He is…” you repeat back, getting lost just for a second in his syrupy brown eyes. He seems to get lost in yours too.
   “You ready?” Tess asks.
   “Oh, uhh. Yeah.” You take a second to push yourself up off the cushioned leather chair, let your legs stop wobbling beneath you. 
   When you’re just about to follow her back, Joel’s low voice serenades your ears. “I’ll be right here waitin’. You’re gonna do great, sweetheart.”
   “Thanks, Joel.” You give him a lasting smile, until Tess beckons you back to her office. 
   “Come on. This way.”
   With one last glance his way, you watch the front office door shut and what awaits you is a long hallway with mint-green wallpaper. Pictures of oceans, fields of wildflowers, and open spaces fill the painted walls. A small white table sits in the middle of the hall with multi-colored flowers hanging over the table that are tucked inside a cream-colored pot. 
   When you make it to the fourth door on the left, Tess nods inside and lets you go first. “Welcome to my office. Hope it’s cozy enough for you.”
   Gasping, you take in her array of rocks and seashells on her back wall. Dozens of colorful shapes and sizes fill the expanse of it. But what really catches your attention is all the little sand dollars spread out by her computer monitor. Her walls are almost the color of sunlight, and she’s got a massive portrait of a west coast beach framed with love behind her desk chair. A white leather couch sits right across from her mahogany desk, and the scent of soothing lavender fills the air. 
   “It’s perfect,” you whisper, amazed by all the decorative details of her office. It’s so inviting and welcoming. It instantly calms you down. 
   “Glad you like it,” she smiles. “Well, have a seat. Get comfortable.” You comply as she gets situated in her chair and pulls up your paperwork. Sifting through it for a minute, she looks up at you with a bright smile lit across her face. “So. This is your first session, is that correct?”
   “Yeah. I… I’ve never done this before,” you answer honestly, a little scared of what she might say, but she only gives you another encouraging smile.
   “Well, you came to the right place then. We’re just going to take this slow, take it one session at a time. Healing is a journey. There’s no one single path to it. We’ll do what works for you, what you’re comfortable with. That sound okay to you?”
   “Mhm,” you nod with your hands clasped tightly in your lap. You’re so fucking nervous, but this is normal, right? Everyone is scared of something they’ve never done before. But this? It seems like all your secrets will surely be unmasked, and that terrifies you. Sharing your past—what happened to you—isn’t going to be easy. Not one bit. 
   “I can see you’re scared, but you don’t have to be. This is a safe space. You can talk to me about anything. It’s all confidential. Nothing you say goes out that door.” 
   Your eyes flit to the closed oak door, and you nod in acknowledgment. “Right… Okay.”
   She scoots back and crosses one leg over her knee, leaving the open papers splayed on her desk. All attention is on you now. “How about we start from the beginning. Before… before you were taken. Maybe start with your childhood?”
   “Oh… I… Well, that’s a lot to tell,” you gulp out nervously. Your childhood trauma is a whole other monster you still haven’t tackled. 
   She smiles. “We’ve got an entire hour today. And if you come back, we’ll have many more sessions to unravel your past.”
   You bite your bottom lip and nod, your nerves getting the best of you, but you push through. “Okay…” You take a deep breath and dive in head first. “Here goes nothing.”
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   Four o’clock flashes like an alarm on the oven clock, telling him he’s been gone for hours, but really, it feels like it’s been days. He reaches for the open whiskey bottle and pours the amber liquid over the square ice cubes in the glass. Every drop looks like the trickles of fresh blood that’s stained his flannel permanently. He should’ve fucking known tonight was not the night to wear nice flannels. 
   He scuffs his leather boots against the hardwood floor, dragging his tired legs from the kitchen to the living room, till he’s collapsed in a heap on the leather couch—one hand curled around the cold glass, the other raking down his face excruciatingly slow. 
   He failed. He was too late. Just minutes from being on time. Maybe he could’ve saved her. Saved that innocent little girl from her executioners. But he couldn’t…
   As he closes his eyes, he sees the flash of red covering the dark walls, serenading the lace of her pink dress. Eleven-years-old, just shy of turning twelve, a daughter that’ll never be able to return home to a worried mother and father. 
   He curses under his breath, feels the tears pour like droplets of water down his cheek. She didn’t deserve to die, didn’t deserve to be scared and all alone. He was supposed to save her, was supposed to get her out. That was his mission, and he fucking failed. 
   Three minutes. He was just three fucking minutes shy of saving her life, but he was too late. He misjudged the distance, didn’t realize the captors were early to their destination. He got there right after they smothered her—silencing her terrified screams forever. He can still hear them like shrill sirens blasting through the base of that rundown building. This isn’t the first time he’s been too late, but God. This one hurts like hell because it reminds him of someone he lost along the way. Someone he loved just as much as Sarah.
   And so, he did what he did best. He took them out—all the men that had hurt her. Thankfully, he took backup, including Tommy. He smothered their screams, pushed daggers into their throats, shot them dead in a frenzy of rage while his teeth were clenched and eyes were fogged with held-in tears. When he looked at that poor, lost girl—it nearly took him to his knees. Those eyes. Those same lifeless hazel eyes that still haunt his dreams to this day. They were the same shade as hers… The little girl that forever changed his life. The one that he wishes was still here…
   Ellie… That little girl tonight looked just like his lost daughter—the one he saved all those years ago. But he never fully saved her. Not after… not when he let her go…
   A wave of emotions floods through his chest as he takes another stiff drink of alcohol, letting the whiskey burn through him while visions of hazel eyes and crimson fill his foggy mind. 
   He was too late. He fucked up. He misjudged the minute hand from the second hand. Time slipped away from him. And before he knew it, everything he planned for was lost to the eerie night. Instead, it ended in bloodshed and turmoil. He hates it. Hates when things have to get extremely violet, but what choice did he have? He had to take them out because they stole an innocent life—a life he was supposed to keep safe. 
   He’s so lost in the crimson-stained memories in his mind that he almost misses that small, meek voice of yours. “Joel?” 
   When he opens his eyes, a part of his soul shatters. There you are, a plush blanket wrapped around your shoulders, heartbreaking eyes shining over to him from the staircase. You take in his half-drank glass of whiskey and the dried tears that stain his cheeks. But also, you see the faint crimson that tarnishes his flannel shirt. 
   Blood. There was so much blood… like a liquid pool of death.
   He adjusts his back against the leather cushion and sits up a little straighter, just so he looks less worn down and broken than he already is. You see right through him though. You always do. “Sweetheart, it’s late. Why don’t you…” 
   “Are you… okay?” Your voice whispers across the room, silences the crackling embers in the fireplace. Your voice… it sounds broken too.
   “I, uhh. Jus’ please, go back to sleep.” He tries to push you away, tries to get you to return to your room so he can sulk in peace. He doesn’t want you to see him like this. Doesn’t want you to see just how physically and mentally defeated he actually is. He’s not as strong as you think he is. He’s fragile, grainy sand that gets blown away by the wind. He’s not rock-solid; he’s quicksand.
   You slide into the seat next to him, close enough where your knee could brush against his. “I’m not leaving you.” There’s finality in your tone, still soft but firm on your decision. And there’s those eyes. Those fucking beautiful eyes that could silence all the built-up pain he has piled on his heart.
   You’re so fucking beautiful.
   “Are you hurt?” You ghost your hand across the leather, reaching out just enough where he feels the heat of your skin. It soothes him over just a tad, but nothing can quite wipe away the excruciating weight of agony he’s carrying now.
   “No. I’m jus’… I’m so tired.” He pinches his eyes closed and takes a deep breath, his hand clutching the cool glass of whiskey like it’s his lifeline. “This job weighs on me like solid concrete. Some nights are so fuckin’ hard. Some nights jus’…” He pauses, takes a deep breath in and blows another out. He can’t finish. He’s too tired, too strained from the past few hours, months, years.
   He’s so fucking tired; he just needs some rest, some peace, some symbolism that he knows he’ll get to the finish line. But he’s been so struck down ever since he met that certain hazel-eyed little girl. Ellie. His little girl…
   “What happened tonight?” Your voice comes off as a whisper. Maybe you’re just as scared to hear what he has to say. 
   He taps the edge of his thumb against the solid glass and takes a deep breath. “We uhh… I lost her. Her name… her name was Abigail. Just a little eleven-year-old, and I was supposed to save her, to get her back to her parents. But I… I was too late. I was too fuckin’ late.” There it is. The pen drops, another tear splashes down his stained flannel, and he’s lost to grief again. 
   You pause a beat, but you gasp loud enough for him to hear the horror in your voice. He’s a failure. You must think he’s such a failure. “Joel… I’m so… God. I’m so sorry.” There’s only sorrow in your lilty voice, no anger or resentment that he failed yet another soul. You’re just as sad as him, he thinks.
   “I failed her… I failed everyone…” He shakes his head, sets his mind a little straighter just so he can grit the words out. “Sometimes I feel like none of this is worth it, like I don’t make a difference. Because when this happens, it makes me feel like I’m already six feet underground.”
   “Oh, Joel. No.” He feels it—the couch creak beneath him, the weight of your body sliding over, your hand inching closer to his. “You save so many lives. You make every bit of difference. You change lives.” There’s so much assurance in your voice; you’re trying to soothe him over.
   He snaps his eyes shut and shakes his head, anything to stop the burning sensation in his watery eyes. Maybe if he doesn’t blink then he won’t feel the pain of this gut-wrenching moment. “But I… I couldn’t save her… I couldn’t save…” 
   Ellie…
   With his eyes still shut tight, he feels warmth wrap around his hand, feels the soft caress of your skin. And when he opens his eyes wide, he sees the most beautiful shades of softness gleaming from your pretty eyes. 
   “You saved me. And that… that means everything to me. You saved me. You saved your daughter. You saved so many lives. You are a hero, and don’t you dare think otherwise. Not for one second.” There’s tears licking your lash line, the most sincere look over your pretty face. A desperate plea to get through to him. And in that moment, he believes you for a second. Believes that he is a hero, even when he doesn’t believe it himself.
   His bottom lip trembles as tears gather in his watery eyes. Something hits him deep in the gut. Longing, the fear of losing you, and an all-consuming wave of tender emotions. He sees you. He really sees you. Such a beautiful soul. Such a lovely, amazing woman. To think he almost didn’t go to that auction, almost wasn’t able to save you. What would he do if he never found you? It stings to even think about. Because you… Well, you’re everything all at once. And he’s so fucking soft for you.
   Carefully, softly, he laces his fingers through yours, holds on for dear life, praying you never let go.  
   Don’t let go. Never let go. 
   Your hand is a perfect fit for his. Every line, edge, dip carved specially for his hand to fit in. The weave of your fingers against his, the light brush of your skin, the heat that spirals into complete warmness when your skin slips against his—you were fucking made for him, just as he was for you, he thinks. Because when your bright eyes and soft smile are in his presence, he sees pure sunlight, sees the pure angelic essence you’re bathed in. 
   He was made to find you. This much he knows. And whether you choose to stay or go—he’ll have this moment to hold on to. Because he got you once. Your hand in his. This right here is everything he’s ever needed. It may just be your hand brushing against his, your fingers intertwined together, but it feels like home. You feel like home. 
   So, he lets the soft rain pelt outside against the living room windows, lets the dying fire crackle and pop in the fireplace, and savors the feel of your honey-like soft skin sliding against his. And he stays there for several minutes, maybe an hour, and there’s only silence shrouding the room. But your touch? It screams volumes, makes him feel human again. 
   For a breath of a moment, you’re his. 
   Texas rain was a rare phenomenon. Misty showers only a once in a while type thing. But you? You made it pour, made the flood waters wash clear through Austin. He didn’t see it coming, didn’t expect anything like you. But it sure as hell knocked him clear off his feet when you bathed him in your electric thunderstorms. 
Tag List: @clawdee @jellybeanxc @lotusbxtch @thebeldroramscal @laurrrra
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@southernbe @katinasweeney @pixelspunk @amyispxnk @mysterious-moonstruck-musings
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rukunas · 2 years ago
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angsty?? deku sucks here (sorry don’t kill me)
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“So?” His hands clasp together, steepled in anticipation. “What did that extra get you? Flowers? Chocolates?”
“Nothing.”
“Come on.” Dynamight smirks. “I need to know so I can get my girl something better.”
You scoff as you place the bouquet of fresh red roses in a vase on his desk, courtesy of his new model girlfriend. The note, marked with a perfect lipstick stain, taunts you. “Is it a competition?”
“When it’s with Deku?” Dynamight flashes his canines. “Yes.”
“You’ll win either way. I wasn’t lying. He didn’t get me anything.” You do your best to keep the vitriol out of your voice, but there’s still a sharpness hidden in your tone.
Bakugo catches it, smile disappearing and his brows pinching together in an uncharacteristic concerned frown. “Oh… That case from the Commission is probably kicking his ass right now.”
“Yeah.” You shrug stiffly. “Enjoy the flowers.”
You feel like a bitch. Dynamight is right— you’ve seen how much Izuku has been working, spending late nights at his office, traveling abroad, meeting with some big officials in the government. You even told him to not worry for Valentine’s Day.
So, why were you mad? You had no right. And yet, you thought…
Buzz.
Your phone: Sorry baby, will make it back late 2nite :(( Don’t wait up on me
Well. It didn’t matter what you thought.
The day seems everlasting, annoyingly so. You would know— having to watch each of your coworkers get their own little presents and cards throughout the day. It would be just as bad if you went home and swiped through your phone all day, watching couple after couple post about their date plans. Fuck it, you’ll just stay back in the office and work ahead, it’s not like you have anything else to do.
“The fuck are you still doing here?” A gruff voice echoes from the hall.
“Why are you here?” You shot back, eyeing the hero who leans against your door frame. You recall when you first started working for Bakugo as his assistant, nervous to even look at him in the eye. Now, you openly glare at him. “Your date is at 8. It was hard as hell to get that reservation, you better not waste it.”
“She’s busy, said it in the note. Where’s your date?”
“He’s busy.”
He hums lowly before looking away, staring at the clutter on your desk. Precious hero figurines that you’ve been collecting for years are propped up in poses, along with a picture of you and Izuku. It was from so long ago, you barely remember the memory.
“Would you—” He starts.
“Can I—”
Silence takes over as the two of you interrupt one another.
“Sorry. You go.” You gesture at him to continue.
“Come with me. For dinner.”
“Me?”
Maybe it’s an illusion, but you swear the tips of his ear go pink. “You said it yourself. I can’t miss that reservation. And you said you don’t have plans…”
“Okay.”
“Seriously?” He sounds surprised. It makes your lips curl upward, followed by a breathless laugh.
“Why would I say no to free dinner?”
“I never said I was paying.”
“Oh, shut up, Katsuki.” It was not an illusion, you conclude, watching as his cheeks turn the same color pink as his ears. It takes you a moment to realize you said his given name.
“Alright. I’ll start the car.” He turns to walk out. “Check your desk before you go.”
“Huh?” Too late— he’s disappeared around the corridor.
Suspiciously, you scan your desk. Maybe he left some form that needed your signature? A PR proposal? But nothing seems to be out of order…
Wait. You pause, breath catching as you find the one thing that definitely was not there before. The Limited Edition All-Might Golden Figurine—the figure that was one of the ten ever made, and one that you’ve always dreamt of getting your hands on— stands boldly at your desk. You don’t know how you missed it, not knowing when it was placed there. You feel warmth bloom at your chest, knowing the one person who’d given it to you.
With hands still shaking in excitement and awe, you send out a text: I love you and I love the gift! Thanks baby!!
You find yourself grinning from ear to ear as you pack your things into your bag and put on your jacket. As you do so, your phone buzzes. A happy sigh flutters from your lips as you rummage through your purse to grab it. You knew he’d get you something! He wouldn’t have forgotten Valentine’s Day! And he’s gotten you the best gift you have ever gotten—
?? What gift?
You roll your eyes at his faux cluelessness, moving to take a picture of the figurine. But, as you do, you catch the note stuck to the bottom of it.
The handwriting isn’t Izuku’s. Though, you recognize it immediately.
Happy Valentine’s Day. I hope I won.
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tearsofastraeax · 1 month ago
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a/n: we're back again with a new part and honestly you guys aren't ready for what i still have in store. but i love a good slow burn, so you still have to suffer a bit <3
cw: once again, this shit angsty
part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5
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the first thing you noticed as your consciousness clawed its way back to reality was the complete emptiness of the room. the cold ebbing in and covering you in the stark reminder of your loneliness. 
ever so slowly you took stock of the aftermath of last night. your eyes felt puffy. your throat dry and scratchy. your limbs weak. and for the cherry on top, a nauseating headache was threatening to split your head apart. 
begrudgingly you opened your eyes to another bleak, grey sky. 
the events of last night didn’t even feel real. your body felt so numb to it all. the only constant reminder was the heavy feeling in your stomach, the one that showed up three weeks ago and only got heavier after you saw him with her. 
your self-pity was quickly interrupted by the painfully shrill ringing of your phone. carefully you grabbed it from your nightstand. but when you saw the name flashing on it you could have emptied your stomach right then and there. 
simon. 
fuck him and fuck that. 
you certainly weren’t in the mood or mind to entertain him. nor did you really care for his excuses and explanations. so, after you hung up on him you scrolled through your messages. 
it started at 5am sharp. 
‘luv, please let me explain’ 
‘i’m so sorry, it’s not what you think’ 
‘please get back to me, i just need to explain’ 
the last one just read: ‘please’
a deep sigh escaped your lips before you clicked on ‘block caller’. a cruel kind of satisfaction spread through you at that. 
even if you’d rather spend the whole day lying in bed feeling sorry for yourself, you didn’t want to be that person anymore. you didn’t just want things to happen to you anymore. it was time to take your life into your own hands and stay far away from men. 
or at least that's what you thought. because you had barely finished your morning routine, stretching it out for good measure, pampering yourself to feel a shred of control again, when you heard a knock on the door. 
you looked in the mirror one more time, your pep talk for the day trailing off into a pathetically weak smile. 
when you opened the door the first thing you noticed was the overwhelming assault on your senses. too many bright colours and an intense smell at the forefront of it all. 
you readied yourself to dish out a bunch of curse words for the flowery invasion at 8 in the god damn morning but swallowed back the remarks when the sheepish smile of the delivery driver peaked out behind the too big bouquet. 
“hi, i have a delivery for miss …”, he trailed off, frantically looking around for a card to ease the awkwardness. 
deciding to not let your sour mood cloud the day of innocent people, you reached out a helping hand. snatching the small card out in between the flowers. your chest burned just looking at it. 
“it’s fine. can you just throw those away?” 
your voice was a mangled little thing. but the violence with which you closed the door in the poor guy's face felt like a shock to your system. 
you felt as if a million little needles stabbed your too tender skin, over and over again, every time that you heard from him. 
why couldn't he just leave you alone? why did he have to torture you like this? 
a gut-wrenching sob wrecked your body, your legs slowly giving up. you slid down along the cold surface of the door, landing in a pile of bitterness and heartbreak on the floor. how much lower would you be pushed? 
would it ever end? 
with shaking fingers and a blurred vision, you reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone. it barely took a minute before you had unblocked simon and send off a much too reasonable text considering the circumstances. 
'fuck off, simon. leave me alone.' 
you immediately blocked him again, and for good measure, let the tears take over. 
grief washed over you and draped you in an all too familiar blanket. wrapping you in its cold embrace. making your lips tremble and your sobs violently shake your entire body. 
hours could have passed by for all you knew. the emptiness never left. it only grew heavier in your stomach, making a home for itself there. clawing and digging in till you were sure it would leave irreversible damage. 
the soft sound of an incoming message made you tense up. your eyes immediately searching for your phone. 
the betrayal was immense, the wish for it to be him so deep rooted and pathetic, you felt bile rise in your throat. 
instead, you saw a message from john price. 
'morning, darling. just wanted to check on you - anything you need, i’m here'
instead of throwing your phone at the wall in a fit of rage you did the only sensible thing you could in that moment, you turned it off. 
maybe one day a shred of peace would find you. 
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taglist: @rafaelacallinybbay @fruitymoonbeams-blog @jdeclerc @valuyhh @galactict3a @etotruski
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clownyclaushoe · 2 months ago
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art the clown x reader 🔞 | i taste blood and it's turned into an obsession series
part one | champagne confetti
the first time art the clown eats your pussy (and makes you squirt 😫🖤) 🔞 ofc
i didn't intend for there to be so much semi-plot before the porn but it gets just a little angsty/sad at the start. chapter title comes from the song 3d by jungkook cause i couldn't think of anything else and its a euphemism for squirting 😆💦🍾 series title is from lilith (diablo iv anthem) by halsey feat. suga.
part two | part three | part four
---
you couldn't quantify what your relationship with the miles county clown was; it wasn't really a friendship and you weren't romantically or sexually involved either, though you'd be lying if you said art didn't have a way about him that drew you in, something so inexplicably attractive about him. for his part, it seemed he tolerated you most times, others it was as if he kept you around for his own amusement.
that much was probably true enough, given the night you'd met and his over the top reaction to your homemade costume last halloween - harley quinn from the animated series. when he'd walked into the fast food joint and noticed you, he dropped his massive black trash bag to the floor, rushing up to you as if you were a celebrity. it was late enough that there were a few groups of people from the nearby bar throughout the restaurant. his display making them stare, snicker, and talk amongst themselves. it made you a little self-conscious, but the funny clown wasn't fazed at all.
you thanked him, because though a little embarrassing, it was also flattering, considering the time and effort it took to make each detail of your outfit and makeup just right.
somehow you'd let him sit at your table, you asking if he was going to purchase anything, if he was hungry; he had definitely looked like he could use a meal. he had pulled out some change, counting it out on the table. you placed your hand over his, stopping him, telling him you got it. his head jolted back as he looked up at you wide-eyed, mouth agape, as if he was scared by your touch. something in your chest clenched, wondering what made him react in such a way, what could have happened in his past.
six months later you still didn't know the details of his past, though you still were curious. what was he like as a kid, as a teenager, was he an outcast back then, too? would you two have been friends?
you stared at his back as he sat at his work bench, tinkering with some new items for his arsenal. it troubled you how you could compartmentalize that murderous, sadistic side of art from the silly, caring side, though as time goes on its lessening. you wonder, too, if those "good" parts of him were enough to keep him in your life, if it meant even monsters could one day be redeemed. though you doubt art sought redemption, his dark heart beyond healing.
you return your gaze back to your laptop, you had been binge watching youtube videos, just about to search for funny animal clips, when art's hand suddenly waved in front of the screen.
"shit, what, art--" you said all at once, as you hadn't seen or heard his approach. art's arm dropped, and he slumped a little, frowning at you curiously. "i'm sorry, i didn't mean to snap at you. i was just startled." you exhale a deep breath. "yes, art?"
art grinned, pointing at your laptop. "what is it?" art flexed his fingers in a gesture suggesting you hand your laptop to him.
"you want this?" art nodded. "for what?" art insistently did a grabby-hands gesture, while bouncing on his toes. "okay, okay." you handed it over, hoping he wasn't ordering materials or weapons to be used for his next kill using your saved card info.
after a few clicks, suddenly there's audio playing. it's a woman - and it sounds like she's shouting. for a moment you think it might be a snuff video. it takes a few seconds to realize those are shouts of pleasure, not pain.
"i'll leave you alone to enjoy that."
art grabs your arm momentarily, shaking his head, pointing at you, himself, then the screen. you stare at him, confused until he turns the laptop to show you what he was watching.
a man eating a woman's pussy. and not in the cannibal sense, but the cunnilingus sense.
he continues pointing between the three of you, animatedly. "art? you want to eat my pussy?"
art nodded excitedly while pausing the video and putting the computer aside. you didn't think he viewed you that way, wasn't even sure he had a libido.
it seemed at times even art was at the mercy of his own whims, compelled to do things without knowing why or bothering to question it. you wondered if this was one of those times.
did he even understand what he was asking?
"i didn't think-- art, i-i don't--" you trailed off, at a loss for what to say. for what you could say. the truth was for an unbearably long time you've wanted him in every way possible, how could you deny yourself the chance now.
you stood, turning to him, and pushing up on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck as he slipped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer against him. your faces so close, you can feel his breath fanning against your cheek, his intense gaze boring into yours.
the moment lingered. which of you would act first and finally release the thick tension filling the already stuffy air; the summer heat worsened in the poorly ventilated room, sorely lacking air conditioning. sweat trailed down your side, under the thin fabric of your dress. you needed out of these clothes.
art smirked at you, tilting his head, eyes widening and brows raising - he's teasing you, trying to see if he could get a rise out of you. you knew he liked to fuck around with people for his own entertainment, of course you'd be no different. luckily, the distinction between you and everyone else was he's about to fuck around with you, literally.
you couldn't wait any longer.
you leaned forward, capturing art's mouth suddenly, gripping the back of his head. after a moment, art kisses back, a little uncoordinated and off-kilter, which is to be expected with art, and the almost certainty that he's long out of practice.
you whimpered a little against his mouth, taking aback by just how much you're affected by the touch of his lips and his embrace surrounding you.
his hands move down to your thighs and you hop up, art pulling you off the ground, your legs wrapping around him. art takes steps forward and you have no idea where he's taking you and you don't fucking care. he walks you over to his work bench with all his beloved tools that he kept in a particular order and never let anyone else ever touch. he cast the tools aside with a swipe of his arm, setting you on the table.
you sit at the edge and he presses close between your legs as you kiss again, feeling his hard-on though his costume, your hips rolling to grind against him, seeking friction to drive you both wild.
"fuck, i can already feel your big, hard cock," you gasp out incredulously. "want to feel it inside me already. please, art."
art grins, but wiggles his finger at you, shaking his head with his tongue out as if to remind you of what started all this in the first place.
you wait impatiently for his next move.
he grazes his hands up your dress, starting at your thighs and up the curve of your hips, over your waist, shifting up to squeeze your tits together. he unfastened the buttons at the top of the garment before pulling it up and over your head. once again he's surprised you, you would've guessed he'd tear the thin fabric off your body. you get wetter at the thought.
he's quick to do away with your bra and underwear. you lie back on the table as much as will allow, your legs spreading further apart for art to see all of you.
he grabs the backs of your thighs, holding them up as he leans closer to your pussy. he spits on it, his cold saliva spilling over your hot and pulsating labia.
art ducks his head, wasting no time latching his mouth onto your pussy, his big nose bumping your clit repeatedly.
"ohh, oh my god," you struggle to get out, taken aback by his enthusiasm, watching his tongue jutting out to lick between your folds. your body already starting to shake with how fucking good he feels.
his grip on your legs tightens, keeping you still. there's already a familiar feeling of building pressure, like you had to pee - you knew if it were piss, art would be unbothered and perhaps even like it more than the squirt that he was about to coax from you. it was growing urgency, you were so close. your hand blindly reaching for art, for some bearing to ground you, as you felt untethered, completely unfurled by this curious creature and his perfect mouth.
that pressure became too much and you let go, releasing a guttural moan as you come, squirting on art's face, and calling his name.
once art draws back, bearing his teeth with a grin. you knew there was something otherworldly about art, something uncanny, and this seemed farther proof, how he knew how to make you come harder than you ever had, so deeply, it ached - it nearly hurt.
he stands, leaning over you for a kiss, allowing you to taste yourself. when he pulls back, he looks to the pile of tools and for a fleeting moment you think you're his next victim. the real death after the "little" one.
he grabs something from the pile, showing it off with a flourish of his hand. it'd been what he was working on earlier. it was a metal dildo with a smooth head, small ridges around the side and a ribbed shaft.
a shiver ran through you at the thought of art using it on you, that he made it for you. you got wetter imagining being pounded with it, impaled by it.
"fuck yes, please, art." he pushed it inside your soaked pussy, watching the way it stretched you. "ah, shit."
he kept thrusting the toy in and out of you, kneeling again to lick and kiss your clit.
"yes, art, ah, ahhh," you grab his head, holding him in place. "gonna make me fucking squirt again."
and moments later, you were squirting around the toy fucking you good and hard, drenching art's hand and face. the afterglow seemed to go on and on, you have no idea how long, spanning like the moments you had spend with him, time having no meaning anymore.
when you both righted yourselves, you noticed he was getting hard again, huge cock jerking in the tight confines of his pants.
"your turn?" art nods with a grin.
---
sorry to end it with a cliffhanger
i hope you enjoyed! 🖤❤🖤❤🖤
© angeljeonjkk 2024
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azulpitlane · 1 year ago
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i wish you would I ln4
pairings: lando norris x reader, exbf! mason mount x reader summary: part two of got love struck notes: kinda dragged making this but finals are finally over so send me some requests pls🤸‍♀️ this ones kinda angsty and there's lots of miscommunication sorry hehe part three, masterlist
yourusername posted a story 2h ago
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The night was full of partying, drinking and dancing as you celebrated your best friend's 23rd birthday. The night quickly turned into a mess when you went to the bar to get everyone more drinks. When you came back your friends were nowhere to be seen, you assumed they were in the dance floor but when you went to check, they weren't there either. To make matters worse, you had put your phone in your friend's purse for safe keeping so you had no way to contact them. The panic quickly sobered you up as you looked everywhere for them but instead you found different a familiar face.
"Mason?"
"Y/n! Hey, I didn't realize you were here."
Your ex-boyfriend went for a hug as he greeted you. You and Mason ended your relationship over a year ago, and though you felt no animosity towards the football player, the breakup had been hard as everybody on the internet seemed to have an opinion on it. It was mutual breakup, you both were in different stages in your life and it just seemed like it wasn't your time.
"Yeah, I was celebrating y/bff/n's birthday with a few other girls, but I have no idea where they are and they have my cell." You were starting to get frustrated as you felt like they left without you.
"Oh no, I would help you look but I'm about to head out. Let me give you a ride home, I would hate for you to be here by yourself."
You knew if somebody saw you and Mason alone it would cause chaos all over again, but you had no other choice at the moment and you just wanted to go to bed. You agreed and as you left you both were oblivious to the cameras taking pictures of you leaving through the back door together.
As you pulled up to your hotel you smiled at Mason and thanked him.
"You're a lifesaver Mase seriously, I don't know what I would've done if I never found them or you."
"You don't have to thank me y/n. I will always look out for you even if we're broken up. I still care for you."
"You're a great friend, I'll always look out for you too."
"And um I have to ask,"
You could tell he was nervous as he scratched the back of his neck and his cheeks flushed slightly.
"What is it Mase?"
"Do you love him?"
You were surprised by the question, not expecting him to bring up Lando.
"Um yeah-yes. I love him so much, I can't even find the words to describe it to be honest. I don't think any song I write can even measure to how strong my love is for him."
"That's good, yeah, that's great. I just, I'm happy you found your person y/n. You know, I thought that person would be me, but if you're happy, than I am too. I guess we just weren't meant to be."
"Mase, you're one of the most amazing people I've met, seriously. I don't think it was ever in the cards for us, but you've taught me so much and you'll always have a special place in my heart. You will find your person one day, I promise."
You smiled at Mason as you spoke, not realizing you had given him the closure he had been needing for a year.
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Lando was freaking out.
He had been sent the article of you and Mason over 5 times already and you hadn't answered your phone in over 2 hours. His mind was reeling as he was thinking about what you could possibly be doing right now. Even though he trusted you more than anything, he couldn't help but let it get to him. Why aren't you answering?
He knew your phone was charged and turned on considering he can still see your location. As he checked it again, he realized you were no longer at the club. You were at someone's apartment. Why weren't you at your hotel? Who's apartment was this?
Before he let himself jump to conclusions, he called y/bff/n knowing you two went out together.
"LANDOOOO! HI."
"Y/bff/n, hey is y/n with you?"
"Y/n? Oh nooooo. Aw I miss her Lan, is she with you?"
"What? No, how could she be with me? I'm in Monaco right now."
"Oh. Then I'm not so sure."
Lando could feel himself getting frustrated as he spoke with the clearly intoxicated girl.
"Okay, did she go home with you? With anyone else?"
"I don't know, you should probably call her or something."
"I did, over 10 times in the past hour."
"Oh maybe she's busy! Let me know how it goes, bye!"
"Wait-"
She hung up. Lando was going to throw up. He was never considered himself as an insecure guy, but he couldn't help but feel there was something going on. He's seen those tweets and comments saying how much everyone loved you and Mason together. What if those comments made you realize they were right? What if you were with Mason right now? Lando wanted to cry, scream and throw up all at once.
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Three loud knocks woke you up from your beauty sleep. You were still in last night's clothes as you were too tired to even change after the nights disaster. You opened the door and your best friend ran in and hugged you.
"Y/N! I'm so so sorry for leaving you all by yourself. I was completely blacked out and I guess I was acting sloppy because y/f/n said we got kicked out of the club! I was acting too drunk and they got mad im so so sorry, this is all my fault and we tried to tell security to get you but they were so mean and-"
"Y/bff/n stop. It's fine, it was your birthday, you deserved to act a little crazy."
"Still babe, I'm sorry. Now that article is being spread like crazy and it's all because of me."
"What are you talking about? What article?"
"Shit. I forgot, here's your phone. But I have to warn you, people saw you leaving the club with Mason last night and the rumors have already begun. Im sorry hun."
Oh god.
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Lando🧡 15 missed calls 5 unread messages
YourPublicist 2 missed calls 1 unread message
Danny Ric🤠 2 unread messages
Y/f/n 8 unread messages
The notifications were endless as you scrolled through your phone but there was only one that you really cared about. You immediately called Lando, afraid he was angry at you for this mess.
"Lan, baby, I'm so sorry for worrying you. I just opened your messages, y/bff/n had my phone all night." You immediately gave him a run down of the night as you knew what it was like to be in his position. The media has circulated so many rumors about your relationship overnight and you knew how hard that was. You had dealt with it all throughout your career and you were heartbroken it was happening to Lando because of you.
"That's weird because I actually called y/bff/n last night and she did not mention she had your phone."
"She was so out of it last night, she probably forgot she even had it. Oh god, she was downing shots I'm honestly not even surprised she got kicked out, she was so crazy-"
"Y/n, you don't understand, I have not slept all night. I was worried and everyone is talking about this. I look like an idiot in this situation."
You knew Lando was going to be upset but after your explanation, you didn't expect for him to still be angry at you.
"I know, the night was a mess, but nothing happened with Mason. He just dropped me off and I'm grateful it was him and not some random taxi."
"You're grateful it was him? You're grateful these pictures are all over the internet?"
"That's not what I meant! I meant he was the safest option at that moment, I had nobody else."
"Yeah. Half of the internet is happy it was him. People are actually celebrating thinking you guys are back together."
"Don't listen to them Lan, me and Mase are never getting back together. People will accept it over time and this will blow over."
"Why are you being so casual about this? Do you even know how I felt last night when you weren't answering. I was going to be sick thinking what you could possibly be doing with him."
"Lan, I told you nothing happened. Why aren't you believing me?"
"This is just all too much." Lando knew he was overreacting a bit. Your story made sense and it all lined up, but he had spent the entire night overthinking and reading the rumors about you two that he couldn't get them out of his mind. He loved you so much and last night made him realize how easily he can lose you and that thought terrified him. You were everything to him, but did you really feel the same way?
"Are you breaking up with me? Seriously? Over a stupid tabloid, I can't believe this." You felt betrayed. Did he not trust you?
"I dont know, it's just hard for me wrap my head around this right now."
"Lan, my flight to Monaco leaves in a few hours, how about we just talk about this in person when our heads are clear?"
Lando was getting angrier as the call went on. He knew his insecurities were getting the best of him right now but he felt like you weren't listening to him. You were trying to brush this off when the whole world was going against you two right now.
"Wow Y/n. My heads pretty fucking clear right now. You know what? Maybe it's best if you don't come, yeah?"
"Yeah, okay."
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one week later
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liked by user 1, user 2, masonmount and 3,593,304 others
yourusername life atm. p.s all new music released from now on is coming from the comfort of my own bed <3
comments on this post have been limited
yourbff love u. coming over rn🏃‍♀️
yourusername pls dont forget snacks
taylorswift need this new album right now
danielricciardo ❤️‍🩹
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liked by user1, user2 and 231,583 others
dailymail Singer Y/n Y/l/n spotted once again with Manchester United star, Mason Mount, leaving a restaurant with a few other football players. Are the two officially back together? Rumors of her breakup with Formula One driver, Lando Norris have been circulating for over a week now after Y/l/n and Mount were seen leaving a club together. Read more on this new love triangle in our article linked in our bio.
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user1 im so excited for this album HAHAHA
user2 team mason idc
user3 funny how the last song she dropped was titled slut, if the shoe fits :)
user4 slut shaming in 2023? disgusting.
user5 i refuse to believe her and lando broke up sorry
user6 delulu is the solulu atp😁
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notes: another cliffhanger!!!🤸‍♀️also this isn't proofread at all my bad heh
tags: @jayrami3 @whoselly @roseseraj @saturnbloom77 @landowecanbewc
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faygosoda · 17 days ago
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A/N: Chat I had to do smth cute but also slightly angsty JS NOT TO THE POINT WHERE READER DIES AGAI
Title: My Gift To You
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Yeah, playing a dumb kids game with a random suited stranger that had soo much money in his suitcase in the subway was probably the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.
Who would have expected to be kidnapped under a bridge and brought to a gigantic place full of so many other people?
Nobody.
But at least you won against that random dude eight times before he seemed as though he got upset and ended your streak, giving you a small card before leaving and telling you to call to play games for some money..
I mean talk about human trafficking..
So here you were, standing in a crowd of people as debts got named off and people were show on screen and- wait what the fuck?
Hyun-Ju.
Your- dude that’s your girlfriend.
Uhm hello what the fuckkkk..
You’d think you would be able to see her tall self through the crowd but all of these people were blocking the way n shouting obscenities left and right.
Why was the love of your life here of all places?
Wait- nevermind, you know why.
The surgeries duh.
Idiot.
That was the same reason you were here for so why wouldn’t she also be here for that as well.
Tch.
You wish she would’ve told you instead of scting all suspicious and distant.
Then again you didn’t say shit to her though but thats different cause it just issss.
Too lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t realized that the guards had finally shut up, the crowd of people breaking apart slightly which gives you the chance to find your girlfriend.
You move through the crowd, eyes catching the tall figure and short hair of your lover whos back is slightly turned away from you, hands clasped together showing her hesitance.
Hyun-Ju looks around, observing those around her, thoughts spiraling before a hand clasps down on her shoulder which causes her eyebrows to slightly furrow and turn to the person that held her and-
Oh my.
“..(Name)! What are you doing here?” Her eyebrows were raised in surprise, her lipstick covered lips forming a small ‘o’ shape.
“Your surgeries.. I wanted to help out, but I should be the one asking considering I haven’t been seeing you as often lately but all of a sudden you’re here.” You squint at her, head tikted as you held strong eye contact with her.
Hyun-Ju sighed, a hand coming up to caress your cheek as she spoke while the other landed on your waist, giving you a squeeze.
“My love, I’m doing this for my surgeries as well, and for us. That’s why I’ve been so distant.. I’m sorry. It’s no excuse though and I promise I will make it up to you.”
Damn. She had you wrapped around her finger superrrr tight..
You huff, leaning into her hand, lips pursed as you nod. “It’s okay.. kinda. I missed you a lot Hyun-Ju and I- I honestly thought you were maybe kinda.. getting tired of me.”
Your words come out mumbled, eyes flickering down as you mess with the hem of her zip up.
“I know it’s probably stupid-“
“No, no it’s not. I should have been honest with you. I truly didn’t mean to make you think that Sweetheart, I love you and I’ll never leave you again..”
She kisses your cheek and then your lips, a small smile on her face before she pulls away, her hand still remaining on your hip.
Sadly, the lovely reunion is cut short by the guards speaking about photos..
Didn’t know it was selfie time.
You and Hyun-Ju move, following the rest of the players while holding hands to stay together.
<><><><><><>
Photos had been taken already and it was time for the first game.
Hyun-Ju and you hadn’t let go of each other besides for picture taking, having took never leaving each other again very seriously.
Hand in hand you both moved through large doors into an arena filmed with.. sand?
“Sandbox..?” You mumble, Hyun-Ju humming as she thought.
“I don’t think so.. look at that big doll at the end of the room.” She points, your eyes following in that direction, landing on a tall and gigantic doll-like robot.
“Oh…. Ew.” That earns you a snort from your lover who kisses the top of your forehead with the shake of her head.
A sudden voice is heard through out the arena, explaining the game.
“Red light green light? Oh I’m good at this! It’ll be easy!” You smile, laughing.
Yeah uhm it wasn’t easy.
Numerous times you had tripped, not only hurting your hands and knees but landing in puddles of blood.
Blood from the others players around you.
Dead players might you add.
As of now you stood behind Hyun-Ju, hands shaky and throat tight from everything going on around you.
What the fuck was happening????
Your hand held the hem of Hyun-Ju’s shirt tightly, squeezing your eyes shut as the doll indicated to stop.
So close to the line.. just fifteen steps away.
So close yet so far from death.
You wanted to go home, see your family, see your friends, listen to music, eat something, lay in bed with the love of your life who was holding up with this way better than you were.
Eight steps away.
Then, you’re grabbed by the sleeve, pulled in front of someone as the robot says “green light!”.
Hyun-Ju’s shaky breath hits the nape of your neck, her hand tight on your arm as she hold you in front of her, moving you along.
“Red light!”
Four steps away.
It feels like eternity when the doll rings out “green light!” And your pushed past the line, your girlfriends body making contact with your own as she sughs in relief, her hold still tight but not in a painful way but instead in a way that shes praying this is the first and only round of this sick and twisted game.
You let a breath that you didn’t even know you had left in you, head turning to her with eyes full of tears, about ti say something until shes dashing right across the line and back into the peripheral of that stupid pig-tailed doll.
“HYUN-JU!”
It’s a pathetic cry, already knowing that when your girlfriend makes up her mind there’s no way of changing it.
You watch as she runs towards to males, one already injured and the other assisting.
Your heart beats in your chest as the seconds go down, frozen in your spot as all three freeze, Hyun-Ju and the other man that helps the injured man shake in fear.
Five seconds left.
You’re gonna be sick.
Please you can’t lose her you can’t you can’t you fucking can’t
They make it over the line though, falling on the floor and a sudden ‘BANG!’ Rings throughout the arena.
The injured man was taken out.
Is it bad that you felt relief that it wasn’t Hyun-Ju?
You don’t know and in the moment you don’t give a fuck as long as she’s alright.
You rush to her aid, arms wrapping around her tightly as your ears ring.
She’s okay.
You’re both okay.
You both WILL BE okay.
You’ll get out of here and go to Thailand and- and everything will be okay.
The end!
—————————————————————————
A/N: I finished this up during basketball practice LOL hope u guys like it!! PLS SEND IN MORE REQUESTS I ONLY GOT 2 RNN💔😒
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ramp-it-up · 19 days ago
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Peach, Part II
Part I Part III
Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is Bucky Barnes' best friend and business parter in crime. He has decided to get out of the life with Bucky because it's the right thing to do. When Steve meets you at one of his businesses and lies to you about a myriad of things, It becomes a sticky situation, especially since the attraction you feel for one another is so sweet.
Pairing: Bartender/ Art Dealer (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)
A/N: I love these two and there is so much to say. More parts to come.This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and occurs up to the events in the Bucky Barnes fic You've Got me Thinking. I'm so done for with Steve and Peach. The next part will be published next week! ☺️
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Angsty angst! Steve is called ‘Steve’ and ‘Grant’ alternately, depending on POV. Mutual pining, masturbation, financial difficulties, mild stalking/surveillance, Steve lying, Steve using an alias, exotic dance life; wild thoughts, flirting, hand holding, intense sexual tension, kissing, making out, feeling each other up, third base, dirty talk, voice kink, praise kink, fingering, finger f ucking, betryal. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.
I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
-----
November
“Peach…” 
Steve whispered it like a prayer, or a spell, trying to conjure you to appear next to him in the king sized bed with Egyptian cotton sheets at the Four Seasons. His voice was a gravelly groan and he tried to keep his hands off himself despite the lurid thoughts playing behind his eyelids.
He couldn’t stop thinking of you and he couldn’t calm down. 
And it was all your fault. 
Steve felt as if he had a hangover although he hadn’t had a drop of alcohol. His mind was clouded with dreams of you all night. Your eyes, your voice, and your wit were drawing him to you. 
The image of your body and that pole, the sway of your generous hips, the swell of your breasts made him breathless and made his cock thicken under the covers. It rose and pounded to the beat of his heart when he thought of those eyes. 
The fantasy of those eyes blown with lust as you opened your mouth wide to deep throat him impelled his hand to his thick staff and tight balls.
“Fuck!”
He wasn’t going to do this. 
Steve flung the sheets away as he stood up to pull on some basketball shorts and a t-shirt, grabbing his key card as he left his room on the way down to the hotel gym. He only nodded politely at the hot brunette who smiled at him as she got on and stood too close. Steve shifted away and stared up at the floor indicator panel as he thought of you.
There was no one else in the world as he floated to the treadmill on a cloud of thoughts of you. As he increased his speed, he replayed all of the different colors in your eyes as you talked to him yesterday. He ran toward an impossible dream of you and him together.
Yeah. Steve Rogers, known to you as Grant Stevens, was screwed.
—--
You woke up with a gasp as your body convulsed from your wanton dreams. You sat up in bed and tried to capture the wisp of your vivid imagination that had gotten you there. You were so wet for a certain new bartender at your night job.
The only thing you could remember from the dream was the image of Grant’s lips and the sensation of his fingers on your hand from the day before. You ran your hands down your body and tried to imagine what his touch and those lips would feel like everywhere you wanted them to be. 
Your fingers found your clit and your tight nipples, squeezing, pinching and rubbing in time with your desperation for Grant. You came quickly as you imagined those lips replacing your digits and his deep voice in your ear. 
After, you lay in bed a moment longer, satisfied for the moment, yet yearning for the real thing. It had been too long since you’d had human romantic contact.
But you barely knew the man. You shook your head as you padded to the shower to start the water and then to the coffee maker to turn it on. 
Your real-life daily routine had no time for Grant Stevens. 
Sorry to that man.
Steve sat in the coffee shop at the corner of Peachtree and West Peachtree street at 10:30 am. He grumbled to himself thinking of all the streets similarly named in Atlanta which also reminded him of you. 
But the streets weren't making him stalk you at your day job. He was there to research his investment. 
That was it.
He looked down at his laptop, open to the file that his tech guy, Miles, was able to send over to him in just under two hours. Thanks to the information therein, Steve knew that you would be in at any moment to get the typical online pick up order for your morning break. He also knew that you’d been at work since 8:30, which was amazing considering you got home at 3:45 am. 
Steve learned that you worked as the Adult Dance Coordinator at the Atlanta Ballet, which seemed like a high end job, but when he saw your salary, 40K a year, he realized that was just a little over $700 a week. Your bank balance was at zero and your student loans were astronomical. 
He understood why you worked your second job.
Your degree was in Dance Performance and Choreography from Spelman, and based on the look on your face when you went into Regine the day before, the way you were immersed in the music when you warmed up, and the way your body moved, he knew that you were good at it.
Steve looked back at his laptop to see that you also had your own fledgling dance school, Peach Preserves. The photos on the website made him smile. He could feel your energy with the kids through the screen. It warmed his heart to know that you were trying to make your dream work.
He happened to look up at the moment that you entered the cafe. He almost ducked under the table, but you didn’t see him, just went to the counter, picked up your drink and chatted briefly to the barista. Then you headed out of the door, in the opposite direction of Atlanta Ballet headquarters.
Five minutes later, Steve was tailing you on a walk around the huge Atlanta city block as you sipped your coffee and smiled at almost everyone.
You were such a cutie, from your sickeningly cute, sensible heels, to the fucking cute pencil skirt that conformed to your curves and caused more than one person to crane their necks as you passed them, to the damn cute cashmere sweater that wasn’t tight, but still molded to the body that Steve itched to feel for himself.
As you went back into your place of employment, Steve felt a loss at you being out of his sight. He felt like a 14 year old kid watching his crush go to class. 
But this was not that, he thought. He had to know what type of employees Regine had, and you were the sample. He was just handling business.
That was all. 
—-
Steve was busy the next couple of days straightening out the finances and employees at Regine, especially Sully, who had taken a sudden leave of absence in the middle of the night and would not be missed.
Steve decided to keep the club, and that would be far more work than getting rid of it. Bucky was annoyed, but he wasn’t anyone’s boss. Rebirth and its holdings was a group project.
Despite all that he had to do, Steve could not stop thinking about you. There were numerous times that he caught himself daydreaming about being with you, but he did not allow himself to believe it could really happen. 
It was an impossibility. 
When he came in to Regine on Friday, you were sitting at the bar with your head in your hands. It was 2 pm and you were about an hour and a half early for work. 
He was instantly concerned. He was about to crash out, knowing that he would never rest knowing that someone out there might have hurt you, or made you sad. He would either kill them or fix it.
But instead he took a deep breath.
“You okay, Peach?”
You looked up at him, those gorgeous eyes watery. You gave him a weak smile, and he just wanted to take you into his arms. He didn’t know you wanted the exact same thing.
“Yeah, Grant. I’m just great.”
You shook your head and then laid it down on the bar on your crossed arms.
“Wanna talk about it?” 
He slid into the barstool next to you.
“Well, a lot of shit has happened in the last couple of days, but long story short, I left my work bag all the way in Kirkwood, and I’ll never get there and back on the bus in time. It will take all night.”
Steve was confused. He looked down at the bag on your lap.
“Is that not your bag? Why are you going on the bus?”
He had so many questions.
You took the bag in your hands and huffed, frustrated.
“Yes, this is my bag, but it’s my dance class bag with my day job clothes in it. I usually leave it in my car when I come in here. But my car is… in the shop…”
You started crying in earnest and jumped slightly when Grant put his hand on yours then relaxed. His touch distracted you, but you were still upset.
“How long will it take in a car? I can give you a ride.”
You looked up hopefully, then your face closed, wary.
“About 45 minutes, but I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You’re not asking. I’m offering. As a comrade.”
You looked up into his eyes again and sniffled.Grant was a nice guy. And you felt that you could trust him. 
“I’d owe you big time.” 
Steve smiled, making you feel warm inside. 
“Give me five and we’ll be ready to go.”
He left to go talk to the other bartender and was back by your side in moments.
“Car is out here.”
Stepping into the cool November Atlanta night let you take a deep breath and clear your head, but now your nerves were ramping up for another reason as you walked next to Grant until you came to a red Audi RS7.
You peered up at him as he held the door open for you. 
“Nice car for a bartender.”
Why did your voice come out all breathy like that?
Grant smiled down at you, making your stomach do that little flippy thing it had been doing the past few days when you thought of him.
“It’s a loaner. My car is in the shop, too.”
You nodded slowly and settled into the leather and wood interior thinking about your story. You looked over at him as he drove, the afternoon light from the road playing over the planes of his face, and marveled at his profile.
Those eyes, the cheekbones, the lips. He glanced over and caught you ogling him. Your cheeks heated and you smiled.
“What?”
“Nothing. It’s just… can I tell you something?”
—--
Steve had been driving, keeping his eyes on the road and his hands on the steering wheel in order to get you to where you were going safely. Your scent in such close proximity was making his mouth water and his dick hard.
Thoughts of pulling over and dragging you over onto his lap were driving him crazy. He was lost in thought until the hair stood up on the back of his neck.
Glancing over, he saw you staring at him. Your flush and shy smile made him even harder.
Were you checking him out?
Did you want him too?
He raised his eyebrow at you, his heart beating double time at the thought. 
But then you asked the question.
Can I tell you something? 
You were basically asking if you could trust him. Shit.
You sighed, your breasts rising and falling with the filling of your lungs. He tried to keep his eyes on the road, but it was hard. He was hard.
“What do you need to tell me?”
“My car is not in the shop. It was repossessed.”
There. You said it. The truth was so freeing. You felt as if you could be yourself with Grant, not put up the thug front that you did with everyone else.
He looked over at you, switching quickly between you and the road until you hit a red light, his jaw ticked tight with some mysterious emotion. 
Your stomach flipped when the heat of his full attention was on you.
“What?”
“Yeah. Happened the other day. Woke up and my car was gone. My neighbor said they saw it towed about 2 am.”
Steve's mind whirled, thinking of the financial information in your file. 
“But I thought you—” 
He stopped short, not wanting to give himself away. He did want to pull over so that he could see your face, but he knew that you were anxious to get back to the club.
“I mean… you seem to have it all together. Are you okay?”
His sentiment had you in your feelings.
“Yeah. I’m used to hustling. I’ve been juggling finances ever since I graduated college. Spelman is a great school, but it’s hella expensive. 30K a year after my scholarship. I owe close to 100K on student loans, and then there’s rent on the studio.”
You looked over at him, barreling ahead despite knowing that you were word vomiting all over him.
“I’m trying to start a dance school. It’s my dream. But it costs money. So I took out a title loan on my car, even though it was paid off.”
“Wow.” 
Steve cleared his throat. Those predatory title loan places often didn’t legally record the loans, just charge outrageous interest and repossess at the first missed payment. That’s why it wasn’t in your file.
“What about your folks?”
“My parents died in a car accident my sophomore year at Spelman. No insurance. My family is aunts and uncles and cousins, and they help when I ask and if they can but…”
Your eyes glazed over as the car pulled to a stop light.
“I’m pretty much my own family.” 
Steve looked into your eyes and wanted to belong to you. He looked down and took your hand. You took a shuddering breath as your stomach flipped.
“Grant…”
He frowned as you called his name.
“I’m not telling you this to ask for money. I just need a ride. Just wanted to be honest with you.”
Steve felt like a jerk. He wanted to tell you the truth.
“Peach…”
“I’m serious. If I have another night like I did Tuesday, I got it. I need three stacks to get the car back..”
The wheels were turning in Steve’s mind. 
“Okay. You should easily earn what you need tonight.” 
He’d make sure of it.
You relaxed and smiled at him, noticing that he still had your hand in his. He rubbed his thumb across the back of your hand and you shivered.
“Thank you for telling me, Peach.”
“Thank you for listening, Grant. And for not trying to rescue me. I really appreciate it. Not that you could. You probably don’t have over a hundred K just lying around…”
He threw you a look while driving, his expression unreadable.
“Anytime, Peach.” 
His voice came out gruff. He cleared his throat. 
“I do know of a private endowment in New York that might be able to help. It’s called the Rebirth Foundation. It’s an Arts organization. They have awards up to a million dollars a year. You could apply…”
“Hmmmm. How do you know about this endowment?”
“I’m from Brooklyn. It’s a thing up there.”
You smirked.
“I knew you had a funny accent, Been trying to place it.”
“I have a funny accent?”
“Asshole!”
You hit him on the shoulder. He chuckled. 
“Anyway, I know a couple of people who’ve benefited from the endowment. Worth a shot.”
You were skeptical, but he was just trying to help. 
“Okay, send me the information.”
“I’ll send it to you when we stop. Just put your number in my phone and I will text it to you.”
Grant handed his phone to you.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this was an elaborate scheme to get my digits.”
Steve laughed. He already had your number, but now he’d have an excuse.
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Fuck you, Grant Stevens.”
He cleared his throat, thinking he’d allow you to fuck him. You riding him in the back of a town car as you drove around New York City was in his top three. 
“Cool. You know, you don’t have to pretend to be angry. You can just ask to use my body...”
You scoffed.
“You know what? I think I hate you.”
“I think it’s the opposite, but you have a wall up.”
He was right. You didn’t hate him, you just hated how he read you right then.
“Grant–”
“Okay, we’re here...”
You stared at him until he raised his eyebrow at you. Then you lowered your eyes and chewed your bottom lip. Next thing you knew, his hand was on your chin pulling your lip from between your teeth, rubbing his thumb over your mouth. Your eyes went wide as saucers as you gasped for breath. 
Steve dropped his hand rather than push his thumb into your mouth like he wanted to. He nodded at the studio. 
“Do you want me to get your bag?”
His voice was gravelly with desire and you struggled with the ability to speak. You wanted this man.
Badly.
You were doomed, was the companion thought.
“No… no. Tameka is holding it for me. I’ll be right back…”
“Okay.”
Steve was holding the wheel in death grip and staring out of the window. He watched you go into the studio and thought of all the reasons why what he was happening was a bad idea. Women were a means to an end for him, occasional companionship, physical satisfaction. 
No strings. Ever. 
The ones he dealt with knew that very well. 
Unfortunately, you had him tied up in all kinds of strings with knots at the moment.
—--
By the time you got back to the club, Steve sent you a fake website that Miles had constructed in 30 minutes. As soon as the application hit, more money than you needed would be headed your way.
He just needed you to actually apply.
The night went by painfully slowly. Grant insisted that he give you a ride home after work and you agreed, causing some weird anticipation anxiety thing that was, for you, only alleviated on the stage. You zoned out and earned the most tips you ever had, partly because he was your inspiration. 
Customers were making it rain. You felt Grant’s eyes on you all night and the more you danced for him, the more money came your way. The tension between you was only building, and you both knew that him driving you home would be the climax. In more ways than one.
After work, at three am Saturday morning, with over $2K in your bag, Steve drove you to your place. This time, both of you were silent, and both your eyes were on the road. It was like time and all coherent thought were suspended. 
When the car pulled up in front of your apartment, you turned to him.
“Want to come in?”
It was a simple question, and one that would make Steve’s life infinitely more complicated if he took you up on it.
Yet he didn’t hesitate.
“Yes.”
As soon as he stepped behind you at your door, the raw animal in Steve was activated. He crowded you, standing much closer than necessary, breathing on your neck and making you shiver as you unlocked the door. But you didn’t mind. No. Not at all.
He was overwhelming this close, but in a good way. His scent, his warmth, his power. You wanted all of that. All over you.
When you got inside, you turned around in the entryway and he.
Was. Right. There.
You looked up at him under your eyelashes as he stared at you, nostrils flaring and jaw ticking with restraint.
Damn him, it should be illegal for him to look that fucking good. 
“I’m just itching to kiss you Peach. Can I? Want to so bad.”
His blue eyes roamed your face, then down your body in a possessive glare. 
God, it made your nipples tight and panties wet.
“Please…”
The way he begged for you broke any resolve that you may have had. You reached for him, grabbed the white tee shirt that was underneath his flannel and pulled him close to you. 
His jaw relaxed as his mouth slanted in a side smile as your arms reached up and wound around his neck, fingers tangling in the long, thick hair spilling over his collar and pulled him down as your lips connected. 
The kiss was tentative: slow sweeps of lips over lips, and shy reaches of tongue to tongue. Then, the urgency increased with nips and licks and sucks of thick lips on lips with tongue and teeth. Moans and gasps and whimpers spilled out between you.
Grant raised both hands to palm your head as he tenderly pulled himself away from your lips and rested his forehead on yours. 
“That was…”
His thumb swept the moisture from your lips and this time you captured it between them, sucking it while looking him in the eye. Steve’s cock throbbed even harder. 
“Fuck. I want you…”
Your eyes looked down to see the bulge in his jeans, up to the clench in his jaw and that goddamn pretty face of his, and you bit your lip, causing him to groan. 
You reached down and palmed his hard on as he pumped his thumb in and out of your mouth. He pulled his finger out, groaning as he watched your lips and you whimpered, causing him to silence you with another kiss. 
His hand drifted down your body, exploring until his long fingers reached inside your sweats to find your panties drenched and sticking to the wet folds of your pussy. 
“Fucking soaked, Peach. I-I need this. Need to feel this. N-need to eat this…”
Grant’s raspy baritone and the stutter made your head fall back against the wall as your pussy clenched. His brilliant blue eyes found yours when he felt it. He kissed the side of your mouth and you chased his lips, a fiend for him.
His tongue invaded your mouth again just as his thick fingers pulled your panties to the side and parted you, the calluses on his fingertips feeling just a little like heaven against your wet, sensitive skin.
He leaned down and whispered in your ear. 
“You’re so wet, and soft, Peach. See? I can slide through these fat pussy lips so easy.”
He was skating, rubbing between your folds along your slit, teasing your entrance and your clit. 
Your hands were yanking his shirt free of his jeans so your hands could feel his thick, hard abs, and your nails could scratch his skin. Grant shuddered under your touch.
Steve felt like it was his first time touching a girl, the way his heart was fluttering in his chest. As he felt your perfect little body, he realized that he was aiding in the ruin of himself for anyone else.
He collected your wetness and proceeded to pull his fingers out and push them into his mouth, making you watch as he suckled them, his eyes rolling back in his head. He concentrated to regain thought as he slipped his fingers back in and pinched your clit, then plunged up and down the split of you, finally breaching your entrance. 
Your legs were shaking and your thighs clamped around his hand. You held on to his shoulders as you rolled your hips into the thrusts of his fingers. He was full-out fucking you now, kissing you in rhythm with the thrusts of his fingers. 
“So fucking tight, Peach. Tightest fucking pussy I’ve ever felt.”
Your body bowed into him at his filthy words and he watched your face with rapt attention. You’d given him the key to you. His words.
His fingers pushed deeper inside you and curled, making you moan and quiver. 
“That’s right, Peach. Take my fingers like a good little girl.” 
He whispered it calmly against your ear, not betraying how feral he was on the inside. 
You pressed your lips together as you clenched down at his words.
“You’re so sweet. So cute. So desperate.” 
His fingers reached that bundle of nerves, causing your brain to short circuit. 
“Needy.” 
Grant licked your neck as he dragged his long fingers in and out of your sodden, dripping cunt. You tried to stifle another moan as he curled his fingers inside you. 
“What I need is to hear you, Peach. Been dreaming of you screaming for me for the past three nights.”
“Please!”
You were practically sobbing now, a result of the skill with which Grant was playing your body. His neck was craned as he marked your neck, and he was searching your skin underneath your shirt with his free hand. 
“You're so beautiful Peach, and wet for me. So warm and snug.”
He leaned over again to suckle on your pulse point and then whisper into your ear.
“But you’re gonna struggle to take my long thick cock in this tight little cunt.”
“Fuckkkkkk!”
You erupted into a mind-blowing orgasm, shuddering between Grant and the wall, holding on to him for dear life as your knees gave out. He held you up, gingerly removing his fingers from around you and hugging you to him, his heart gone from his body and now in your possession. 
He never wanted to let you go.
But then you spoke again.
“No one has ever…”
You giggled and looked up into his impossible blue eyes. He smiled down at you. For a split second, you were the happiest you’d ever been.
“No one had ever done that to me as effectively as you, Grant Stevens.”
Steve’s smile fell. 
He felt the power of his betrayal in advance of you finding out who he really was. 
Not only had he lied to you, he wasn’t good enough to be around you, let alone touch you. 
He looked down to see that you were steady on your feet now, and straightened your clothes for you. He felt terrible, knowing what you expected to happen next, if nothing more than intimacy with someone who was honest with you.
He kissed your forehead, then your lips again, chaste this time.
“I’m so sorry, Peach. We can’t do this.”
“What?”
He kissed your forehead again and left your apartment, leaving you standing there wondering what just happened.
—-
When you went to work that night, they said Grant quit. The number you had for him was disconnected. He’d vanished into thin air.
You were a thug, so you powered through the night but you spent all day Sunday in bed wondering what you did wrong. And what he was really about.
By the time Thanksgiving rolled around, you were grateful to go to Hilton Head and get away with your family. You heard about your cousin’s big adventures in the City with her Mr. Big and crew.
You teased her relentlessly for being a simp, and continued to swear that you were a thug. You were a complete comedian, putting on a show for your family until the moment the man you knew as Grant Stevens stepped into your Aunt and Uncle’s home.
Except his name wasn’t Grant Stevens.
It was Steve Rogers.
And you were a fool.
——-
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