#they HATED each other they WANTED each other they DEVOURED each other…

[iwoulddieforher]

Rigid | Casey Novak × Alex Cabot

Author's Note: This got super out of hand with the length- I think this is the longest fanfiction I've ever written. Hope you enjoy it, though <3 ~16k+ words

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff. I like the idea of Alex being neurodivergent in some way, even if she doesn't know it herself, so some of her self-descriptions will come off that way.

Summary: Alex wants desperately to be able to relax like she sees her colleagues doing, and a night watching a coworker she has her eye on- Casey Novak- might present itself as the opportunity to get what she wants.

Porcelain dolls strung up by small transparent strings were significantly less rigid than Alex Cabot currently felt. How she usually felt, even.

High-class family, posh preparatory school, strategically made connections rather than real relationships were all she grew up knowing. Everything had a meaning, a purpose, a reason for why it was so, and that also applied to every detail of her appearance and demeanor must similarly be intentional. She grew up internalizing that, and thus, as an adult she utterly lacked the ability to let her spine curve into a natural slump, to lay in bed without wondering what it would look like to a non-existent observer, to kiss someone in a way that focused on the intimacy rather than the shifted facade that she displayed in order to appear desirable.

It felt inhuman. She really hated it. The feeling she coped with daily made her skin crawl as if it was begging to be torn off to reveal a real person behind it instead of the ever-complicating mask.

It was especially noticeable to her on days like these, where a high-profile case had just been absolutely devoured by her colleague, Casey Novak, so the squad room was positively thrumming with excitement and a collective sense of triumph. Olivia, the one Alex had made a habit of perching herself by, was currently at the corner store to pick up a bottle of something to share, so the attorney was standing almost aimlessly against the brunette detective's desk. Across the desk was Stabler, in his respective chair, looking up at Casey who had chosen to place herself on the edge of his desk. Munch was in his rolly-chair, with Tutuola leaning over the back of it, Cragen standing stiffly but not uncomfortably near the commotion like a proud father.

"And that absolutely little weasel of a man-" Casey chirps, as much as a voice as low as hers could sound like a chirp, interrupted by a bark of laughter from Stabler, "Sorry, that boot-licking short ass bottom-feeding rodent-"

"Casey!" Stabler admonished, although his eyes were shining with amusement, and the faux blonde woman laughed and swatted at him half-heartedly.

"Yes, okay, I'll mind my manners. The defense counselor, before the trial, told me that because I'm pretty if I want after the duration of court he'll give me some tips on improving- and now I won, and when he was walking out, I managed to shoot him a smile and say 'if you want any tips, just call Novak at the DA's office'- I thought he was going to deck me right there-"

Casey's storytelling is rewarded with a roar of laughter from the men, her face shining with victory and the aftereffects of a battle well fought, and Alex can't help but find her beautiful. Casey Novak was anything but rigid, and Alex wished she was more like that- even if Casey's temper did get her in trouble more frequently than one would wish.

"Okay, well, don't let your victory get you all haughty, I'm still going to kick your ass tonight." Stabler snorts, after the laughter had died down, which sends Casey into a refreshed cascade of giggles.

"You? Kick my ass? Oh, you wish."

"Wait," Alex cuts in, everyone's eyes flickering to her as if they were slightly off guard that she was still following the conversation, "what's this about kicking each other's asses?"

"I'm going to hand Stabler his balls on the softball field tonight-" Casey starts before Stabler swings at her playfully and she gets distracted by shooting him a playful warning look. Alex forgot how much they acted like siblings sometimes, but the way they seemed to bounce off each other and banter so smoothly made them seem like twins. She could very easily imagine them in early teens kicking each other under a dining room table.

"Recently we've all started getting together to play softball together," Stabler interjects, granting Alex a serious response, "after big cases on the weekends we get together with some other cops and some other lawyers at night. Good way to blow off steam if justice isn't served or good way to celebrate if we do."

“It used to be a big thing, there were inter-department tournaments at the DA’s office or whatever, but now us who liked it so much just play for the hell of it, and also against the cops.” Casey nods, finally done with Stabler after managing to flick him in the middle of the forehead with her finger, which he glares at her for.

"And us who don't play softball get drunk while watching 'em." Munch says, leaning back in his swivel, with Tutuola adding a nod from just above him.

Alex bit her tongue, blinking in mild surprise. Back before she had 'died', they had gone to bars together to celebrate such things, and she didn't know any of them had really had any penchant for sports outside of Stabler occasionally mentioning his daughter's soccer or basketball results. She certainly had no clue Casey was apparently formidable enough on a softball field to hold on against a built detective such as Stabler.

"Speaking of drunk, I'm back." Olivia announces, strolling into the precinct once more, finding her way to stand beside Alex while cradling two bottles of some discounted wine, holding one up as evidence.

"Oh I got the worst fucking hangover from that shit-" Fin fires off immediately, who then gets silenced by a snort from Olivia, and the warm atmosphere is immediately resumed, Novak and Stabler beginning to chatter about proper swinging technique and which one of them was doing it wrong while Munch, Benson, and Tutuola start arguing over alcohol. Alex felt rather out of place.

Tone switching over to something light and banter-y was usually a bit difficult for her after grueling caseloads, and today especially she was just done. She didn't want to leave, though, she didn't want to be alone or god forbid find company with other stiff-necked attorneys to chat with hollow words about unnecessary topics, but involving herself in this easy exchange- especially since she wasn't entirely sure if she was invited- was hard.

"Oh, how about you join us, Alex?" Olivia suddenly exits her own argument to turn towards the blonde, her face soft the way it usually was when it came to her. "I know it's not your type of thing, probably, but it would be nice to have you there."

Her voice is earnest, and Alex had been wishing someone would invite her to accompany the drinkers, so although she entertained the puppy-eyes Benson made at her for a few seconds longer than necessary she did ultimately accept.

"Does this mean we can put bottles of something more worth drinking on Cabot's platinum card?" Munch mutters, pushing his dark glasses up the bridge of his nose, and Alex snorts.

"Tough luck, but if we go to a bar after I'll carry a round."

Olivia's head whips around and stares pointedly at Casey, firing off a quick, "No tequila," to which Casey makes the most indignant face Alex could possibly imagine on the copper-headed woman.

"Hey, that was not my fault- and also only once-" Casey defends, and Stabler starts laughing, slapping his fist on the table.

"Do you remember the whole thing with that-"

"Yes," Casey snaps, "I'm sure mostly everyone does, and if they don't then-"

"Casey, Alex wouldn't know." Olivia says lightly, elbowing the mentioned blonde, "Come on, Alex, aren't you curious? We should retell this for your sake, right?"

Alex's icy blue eyes met Casey's dense green ones, and she was momentarily indecisive. She wasn't friends with Novak, and she wasn't going to pretend that she was, as much as she enjoyed watching the copper-headed attorney play with the coworkers she was genuinely close to. She wanted to know, but as soon as she saw the guard up in Casey's posture, the way that Alex's rigid demeanor was mirrored immediately by the younger woman, she faltered.

Alex was stiff. Her spine was held to an excessively intentional angle. Even though to everyone else she seemed almost as natural as the rest of them, learned iron in her veins commanded her to be a degree of rigidness that came close to robotic. And Casey was the farthest thing from imperceptive.

In the courtroom, it was necessary to shoot the same metaphorical bullet as the one that had been fired at you, and Casey did nothing short, her vertebrae stacking above one another as she readjusted herself, jaw growing more firm, her eyes flickering to become hard and sharp in a way that would almost seem predatory had it not been for Alex's recognition that this was entirely procedural for the younger attorney. Alex knew in her head too that if she was interacting with someone else like this, she'd have done the same thing.

Lawyers had a way of exchanging thoughts without verbalization, and Casey and Alex were currently having an odd back-and-forth that happened within a fraction of a second completely unbeknownst to the rest of the room. Casey registered the swirl of thoughts in Alex's mind and her inability to formulate a response in time to seem natural, and with the ball in her court, decided to give the blonde attorney an out.

"Okay, fine," she huffed, as though she was actually unwilling to share, despite the fact she was fully aware Alex would not have moved to force her to and she could easily tamp down or distract the eager detectives, "long story short, Olivia and I started fighting, and she made a jab about me no longer being white collar's youth prodigy, so I tried.. to prove how youthful I still was- er, still am."

Alex wrinkled the tip of her nose, pursing her lips to stop from laughing at that, and Casey twitched an eyebrow jokingly before shaking her head.

As soon as her head turned, the copper-headed attorney decided to release the inelastic facade she had just momentarily constructed, leaning backward once more. To the eye of the others, nothing that demanded the level of thought that had just been executed had come close to occurring.

The older attorney wasn't entirely sure how to reward Casey for her kindness in that exchange, but she felt like she should. She made a mental note that she owed Casey something- perhaps if the copper-headed woman snarked at her sometime in the future, she'd let it go without question, or some similar social grace. Her uncle has drilled in the 'advice' that one never forgets what they owe another, lest suddenly be surprised when the other expects to collect.

"She ended up kissing this random blonde woman who was going through a divorce." Munch supplied helpfully, who earned a glare from Casey in return, and the seconds returned to passing at a more natural rate rather than the slowed pace Alex had just felt like they moved in. The conversation was resumed.

"No, the bad part wasn't even that she made out with her, but the fact her flirting consisted entirely of legal jargon-" Olivia filled in, and Alex snorted softly as Casey's head whipped in the other direction to glare at her instead.

"Okay, okay, listen- first of all, she was not a random woman, her name was Jane and we did keep in contact for the duration of her vacation here-" Casey raised a finger, cutting Liv off, "and if you understood any sort of vocabulary past fifth grade, it would have made perfect sense to you."

Alex paused, deciding this was probably a point at which a response was required to reestablish her presence so she could stop relying on Olivia to make her involved, "Well, it does seem like a- ... youthful thing to do?"

Casey's jaw fell slightly agape, and then she closed it with a huff. "Okay, well. Olivia's just pissed because I can actually involve myself with women."

"I'm not gay!" The brunette protested indignantly, to which Casey and Elliot exchanged a look that read as what-is-she-on.

Olivia was silenced for a moment, bristling, before extending her arm to rest on Alex's. "Alex, help me out, us straight girls need to stick together with all this-"

"Straight?" Alex questioned, an uncomfortable chuckle in her throat, "Olivia, you didn't know I'm-?"

"What?!" Olivia cried, straightening immediately, not affronted but apparently incredibly surprised, which Alex internally sighed at, only to be distracted by a low whistle from Casey that she decided not to respond to.

Internally, Alex was grappling with the new information that Casey was sapphic. She was too, although she understood why Liv hadn't known, she wasn't super forthright with her identity- but Casey?

After a moment's contemplation, she realized that this actually made a lot of sense and she felt mildly stupid for not having realized on her own.

"Yeah," Stabler says after a pause, "I think this is our cue to get going to the softball diamond before Liv has her whole am-i-gay breakdown right here in the squad room."

The rag-tag group collectively nods, shuffling for possessions, with Olivia still apparently on edge and lost in an internal conversation with herself about the possibility of homosexuality. After a few more moments of collecting items or putting things into respective places, and after Casey pats Olivia sympathetically on the shoulder, they begin to head out to the parking lot.

Alex clicked the key to her Cadillac, briefly pausing to obtain the address of the sports place as well as a time, since a few people wanted to drop by home to discard professional belongings or change, and because a few members of the DA's teams were still in session, before studying the exits of her colleagues.

Tutuola and Munch separate to respective vehicles, with Olivia being given a ride by Stabler as usual, and Casey splitting off from the group entirely to unlock her bike. Cragen excuses himself with the explanation that he's not going to meet up with the rest of them, he doesn't play softball nor does he drink so he's spending a nice night in instead.

Everyone's method of transportation seemed in some way reflective of themselves. Munch's windows were so tinted Alex was vaguely concerned about the potential illegality of it and Fin's car is beat up in a way that shows he doesn't abide by the physics of curbs. Olivia and Elliot's carpooling constantly served as a testament to their bond as detectives, and Casey...

"I still can't believe you actually bike here every morning. While wearing the suit? Jesus." Stabler bantered, leaning on the hood of his own car while watching Casey fumble with the lock on her bike.

"Well," she replied in a curt rasp, straightening, "that's why my legs are toned and yours would snap under water pressure-" she stopped to point at him almost accusingly, "and don't get me started on cardiovascular health."

Olivia drags Elliot into his car before the two start bickering again, and that leaves Alex watching Casey out of the corner of her eye as the attorney fixes her bike locks to the luggage rack before swinging one leg over the seat and taking off, her chin nestled in her scarf, her mid-length hair swirling behind her.

For a second too long, she lingers, but then Alex climbs into her cold car, groaning slightly at the feeling of the stiff leather on her back, before driving without picking out a destination. She didn't have anything she felt uncomfortable leaving in her car, nor did she have anything to pick up, so going to her penthouse was somewhat pointless. However, with about an hour until the designated time, staring out the window at the city streets far below seemed more interesting than staring at said streets on the ground level while seated aimlessly in her car, so she went home.

The elevator opened directly into her apartment, so she needed to use her key in the elevator pad itself, and when she did and the doors opened she dropped her briefcase right next to the door- it fell exactly the same way it would've if she had intentionally placed it, which makes her mildly irritated.

She didn't bother to kick off her shoes, placing herself on the couch in her apartment, and staring blankly at the wall. Her spine was straight, her legs angled to the side in the way her mother had taught her to make them look longer, her hands folded in her lap. Her apartment felt desolate. Her skin crawled.

She tried to focus on something- anything, really, in her apartment- but all she was met with was cold, smooth marble that her eyes slid off of. Plaquettes held her accomplishments that suddenly felt utterly pointless, framed pictures of her family or college friends that seemed impersonal. She couldn't keep a plant alive and she had never actually gone decor shopping herself, so the place was devoid of color, only shades of grey.

Alex groaned and placed her hands over her eyes under her glasses, tilting her spine backward until it hit the back of the sofa. It felt wrong, everything felt wrong, and her skin felt like it was crawling, her bones turning and burning inside her like she imagined cement would feel. It was uncomfortable in a way that wasn't painful- but that didn't stop her from fixating on the discomfort immensely.

The attorney rolled to the side, swinging her heels up onto the couch, one hand cradling her head and the other reaching to tug off her glasses. Strangely, in the dim blue lighting of the sun setting behind heavy clouds, her mind shifted to the opposite of said cold color- it landed on the shade of Casey's hair.

In the DA's office or in court when they crossed paths, Casey was stiff in the way every lawyer Alex had ever encountered was. The degree of rigidness that was learned by years of constant practice of saying and acting exclusively in intentional ways. Still, though, her eyes were always warm, in a way lawyer's eyes seldom were. But when she relaxed, which she was able to do, unlike Alex, she was simultaneously the same and also a completely different person.

She'd be lying to say she didn't know Casey was athletic- despite her unaware that she played softball, or was to any degree interested in her own physique the way her exchanges with Stabler today suggested- Alex had let her eyes linger on the other woman's arms on occasion in warmer environments when the redhead rolled her sleeves up. Her mind constructed the image of running her finger along the toned curve of her forearm, up her arm, and towards the delicate curve of her neck. In her imagination, Casey's skin was warm, and it only warmed further at Alex's motion. When she met Casey's olive-colored eyes, she was already looking back at her, eyes only half-lidded.

She felt her own cheek flush in her palm, and she sat up, shaking off the thought, but the sensation of warmth in her cheeks and the imagined feeling in the pad of her fingertip was enough to pull her off the couch, to the bathroom, where she took off the makeup she had done for court, tugging her suit jacket off, fumbling off her belt.

She wanted out of the porcelain, out of her skin for a night. She had seen the way Casey's guard had flickered up when she had faced her in the squad room, holding a mirror to the rigid body across from her, and she wanted out. The solution to that was to try to force the stiffness out of her soul so Casey wouldn't have any such thing to mirror. She had a reputation to uphold with the rest of the squad, with Liv and with Stabler, but Casey was more perceptive than Liv was- at least when it came to her- and she felt as though she knew enough to play it safe while still getting what she wanted. It would be an issue if Liv or Stabler or any of the other detectives or such lost respect for her professional standing. She was diligent, and hardworking, and she valued that about herself immensely, and she was not about to make the mistake of letting that persona fumble for a night’s activity. But still, she wanted a night where her skin felt like it belonged to her. If Casey's eyes didn't harden when she looked at her, maybe that would be close enough.

Her formal attire was replaced quickly, boot cut jeans instead of her slacks and although she didn't remove her white blouse she layered it with a loose sweater. She ran her fingers through her hair, intentionally messing with it, before nodding with satisfaction at her now slightly more casual appearance. The collar of her blouse sticking up through the neckline of her sweater was enough to not shift the persona the detectives identified with her, but she decided it was enough. It was enough that her uncle would click his tongue at her for wearing jeans while around a colleague.

She then proceeded to sit almost aimlessly on her couch again, drumming her fingers on her lap while waiting for the time to elapse so she could go to the softball field without being the first one there. In her mind, she debated writing up some notes or preparing for a case in the coming week, but she knew if she went back into lawyer mode it would just be worse trying to shake it off again. Unfortunately for her, as a kid all her hobbies were dictated- fencing, equestrian, ballroom dance and such, and since she never really grew attached to any of them and then failed to procure a hobby or pastime in her adult life, she didn't have much else to do.

Her phone chimed and she picked it up, assuming it would be something idle or law-related, only to find a text from a number she recognized, her heart thrumming insistently when it realized whose message she was currently reading.

Casey Novak→ Hello Alex, this is Casey (Novak, the one you work with, in case you know another)

Casey Novak→ Apologies for jumping this on you, but any chance we could carpool tonight? My bike is having a technical issue I can't be bothered with fixing it currently.

She waited a couple seconds before answering with,

← Seems doable. Send me your address?

Casey responded to that within a minute and Alex exhaled, mentally registering where that was, before standing up. With the detour of picking up Casey as well as the fact it doesn't really matter if she's early now because she's accompanying a player, she feels soothed to leave soon.

← Would you find it alright if I came in about a half hour?

Casey Novak→ More than alright, you have my thanks

← I'm more than happy to help.

After a pause, the message goes on read, and Alex doesn't really know what she had expected as a response. Mildly discontented, she put her phone down.

If she wasn't about to be driving, she would drink a glass of wine, but alas that was quite literally the point so she could not indulge herself. She pondered briefly the logistics of getting drunk when she was at the softball diamond, but worst comes to worst she’d just have to taxi. And, she supposed, would have to take Casey also in said taxi.

She felt her jaw grow a bit firmer at the constant resurfacing of Casey Novak in the back of her mind. Alright, sure, now they actually had plans and she was picking her up, so it made sense. But still. It wasn't exactly unlike her to develop random infatuations, desires to knock people she admired and simultaneously was irritated by down a peg, god knows the mistake with Jim Steele- but… Casey seemed… different.

Her heart muttered that Casey seemed warm and alive and her skin seemed soft and she was entirely unlike anyone Alex had ever grown attached to, Casey was not a power play, Casey was not a mind game. Casey was Casey. Alex didn't really understand what that meant.

She clicked her tongue to herself and then decided that no, she would not pursue anything with Casey. She had been toying with the idea of making that dream of tracing up Casey’s forearms with her fingertips a reality, perhaps as a flirty joke she could pass off as drunken boldness. But now her heart started to fumble in her chest at the thought, and not only in a good way. She wasn't exactly sure why her mind was suddenly reeled in the polar opposite direction of what she had been fantasizing about only a couple of minutes ago, but now she felt mildly stressed. Her skin crept little patterns on her nerves like ants blacking out a lamp, eating through power cords.

Maybe the fact she didn't really understand Casey is what sent little alarm bells ringing in her mind. To pursue meant to trust and to trust meant she had to know it all. She felt like she knew essentially nothing.

Sometimes Alex really wished she was less self-aware. She analyzed every thought or feeling she had like it was someone else’s, and therefore frequently felt as though she was drowning in someone else’s brain when in reality she was still sitting on her couch in her apartment in her clothes in her- supposedly her- skin.

It was time to leave now, anyway, so she cut herself off from her own train of thoughts to stand, and collect some items in one of her more used purses in case alcohol was split, it got snatched, or some other random misfortune that may occur to a handbag. Once she was pleased with her level of preparation she double-checked the contents one last time- car keys, one of her more mildly used wallets, phone, power bank, medical emergency kit, a notepad, a block of sticky notes, her pager, and a pen. She pulled a scarf on as an afterthought, not entirely sure if the temperature would drop as it got dark out but decided not to take that risk.

With that, she left her penthouse, standing stiffly in the elevator on the way down, staring at herself in the reflective wall the metal box had. Hmm.

Within twenty minutes, and exactly on time to the thirty minutes she had offered Casey earlier, she was parked on the street outside Casey’s address, looking up at a rather elegant brownstone. Sometimes she mused to herself that the modern aesthetic of her apartment complex far outranked the sort of shabby, oftentimes falling apart older buildings, but this seemed.. it seemed vaguely Elysian. She approved of it.

← I’m outside

Casey Novak → I’m sorry, I’m running a little late. Would you like to come up? I’ll buzz you in.

← I can wait in my car, I don't want to intrude.

Casey Novak → I’ll feel better if you just come on in. I’m inviting you. Please.

Alex blinked at that message, slowly typing out,

← Okay, then. If you're sure.

She exited her car with a furrow in her brow, locking the vehicle, and then continuing the steps up to the doorbell placard, where she found Novak’s name printed in a thin, flat font. She pressed the small silver button next to it, making a mental note of the floor and roughly which door it should be based on doorbell placement. A startling buzzing sound went off that Alex was thankfully prepared for, and she pushed open the frankly unnecessary large wood door. She traveled up the steps, to the third floor, deciding that she should start exercising more often if going up only three floors already had her inhaling a bit sharper, and she didn't need to wander reading the names next to the ringers because Casey’s door was open ajar and she was peeking her eye through the crack.

Alex caught a glimpse of Casey’s smile through the small opening, before the copper-headed woman disappeared in a flash, waving Alex in. She did as instructed, closing the door behind her tentatively. Immediately, she could not see Casey in her own apartment.

“Sorry,” the woman called, “I decided I wanted to shower beforehand so I need to straighten my hair again. That's why it's taking me a minute. Just sit down wherever you like, I’ll be done in just a second.”

“You straighten your hair?” Alex asked curiously, standing awkwardly in the foyer. Although Casey had instructed her to sit, she couldn't imagine pulling a chair out anywhere or settling herself on the younger attorney’s couch.

Inhaling deeply, she resigned to studying Casey's apartment interior with interest.

The interior walls were a smooth ivory, the floorboards a dark wood that matched the accents- the window and door frames, the stairs. Casey’s apartment was a lot more vertical than her own- where Alex had half of a floor, so her apartment was wide horizontally as well as deep, the walls were only a couple of feet on each side in the entry hallway and Alex couldn't imagine the rooms being, well, anywhere as large as her’s. But somehow, the comparison did not change the charm of the apartment.

Perhaps that had something to do with the atmosphere. It smelled like sandalwood and caramel, and the walls were lined with memorabilia- which Alex considered briefly was strange, because Casey's desk and office were almost barren considering some of the other workstations she had seen. She skimmed over smiling faces, Casey with dozens of people she’d see in this photo and never again. Casey with a little girl propped up on her hip, holding a little boy by the hand on a beach, all three smiling at the camera, but in a way that made it seem like it was almost unintentional, like someone had captured a moment in a camera which usually only existed in fond memory. Casey kissing a man with short brown hair, her arms, which seemed slightly thinner in the photo than Alex had grown to know them, (although the woman was always slim,) wrapping around his shoulders. She looked younger, happy, smiling into the kiss, and he did too. Probably during college, Alex mused. Casey’s finger, resting lovingly on his shoulder, was adorned with a silver band. Alex blinked.

She chided herself to move on with her inspection. Whoever this person was, it didn't seem like they were still in her life, unless Casey had been cheating on him with ‘Jane’. Stabler didn't take well to cheaters, so Alex really doubted that. She wasn't sure what the thrum of her heart was meant for- so she just exhaled. She couldn't drag her eyes away from it, though.

When she inhaled again, she was greeted with the scent of whatever hair products Casey was currently employing. It dragged her out of her thoughts, and it made her twinge with guilt at the thought of analyzing Casey’s history through her personal pictures. Casey was kind enough to be undeserving of an inspection.

There was no door between the foyer and the kitchen, so Alex turned to focus on that instead, her blue eyes skimming over what appeared to be a sourdough starter. Music played quietly out of some surround sound speaker, somewhere, something idle, and indie.

The dark brown of the floor was complimented well by the constant appearance of plants- not flowers, but succulents or similar. Apparently, Casey was in the middle of repotting one, because the table had a large tray with items that would suggest that.

“Oh, sorry about that-” Casey mused, appearing suddenly next to her, “I was trying to swap out pots for that one- roots were getting too big, you know, but then I got buzzed for a warrant this morning and dropped it.”

She smelled really good, and Alex wasn't happy that that was the first thing she noticed, but she did. Casey’s perfume, which Alex had noted a couple of times in the DA’s office, had just been freshly reapplied, and her hair was perfect in a way that only lasted a couple of moments after styling it. She looked in a way that Alex could only describe as warm.

Casey was dressed in a blue softball jersey that had ‘Sex Crimes’ bolded on the front in a lacy font and tracksuit pants. The usual frustration carried in her eyes and eyebrows was gone entirely, replaced with lights of excitement that showed in the way she held her hands and smiled. She wasn't wearing any makeup, only a dark lip balm that Alex now wanted to know the brand of.

“And yes,” Casey said, replying to Alex’s comment from a moment ago, despite it having felt like an eternity since then to Alex, “I do have to straighten my hair. Not all of us can be blessed with locks like yours, Miss Cabot.”

Ignoring the teasing nature of her voice as she said Alex’s more formal name, the blonde still lifted her eyebrows as if pained and shot her a look. “Please never call me ‘Miss Cabot' again- It’s just Alex to you.”

“Alright, ‘just Alex’-” Casey said, with an amused huff, before turning and waving at her abode, “verdict? You seemed interested.”

“I-” Alex pursed her lips. Casey was not stupid. If she hadn't been interested, she would've sat down like Casey had initially instructed or been on her phone, or been staring off into space. “I like it. You have a very lovely apartment. It suits you.”

“Thank you.” Casey smiles, pleased, before glancing back down at the houseplant activity. “It would feel better if I had gotten to finish this, though. My mom insists I keep them all.”

“Why?”

“You know how in law school, you’d stay shut in all the time, sleep at horrible hours, and keep the blinds drawn? She bought me a million plants and kept making me show her they were still alive to make sure I was airing my dorm and letting sunlight in. And that I was looking up from my laptop at least for a minute a day.” Casey snorts, but she seems fond of my memory. “I guess she doesn't really insist I keep them anymore. She hasn't checked, anyway. But I got used to it. I swapped out her delicate plants for succulents, though, because I forget to water them sometimes. I’m not here very much.”

“Your mother seems like an attentive woman,” Alex comments, watching as Casey’s eyes grow momentarily heavy, staring still at the plant, before she blinked it off.

“I’ve been blessed,” she answers smoothly instead, “with a wonderful family.”

There's an awkward beat of hesitation, where neither knows what to say, before Casey exhales and forces a smile. “Have you eaten anything? If you're going to drink with Tutuola, you probably need something to eat. And I need to grab my gear and such. If we leave now, we’d still be significantly early.”

“I had breakfast-” Alex starts, before seeing Casey raise an eyebrow at her, “but it was a large one, Casey, I’m not trying to tear up your kitchen.”

“Sweet or savory?” Was the other woman’s only response as she strolled into her kitchen, opening cabinets and ruffling through items.

“I don't have the time to make you something properly right now, but God help it if I let you leave here without eating something.”

Alex stood uncomfortably in the doorway to the kitchen, a small unsure frown on her face, so Casey shot her a pointed look, walked over, grabbed her arm, lightly guided and then shoved her into a chair, and then went back to trying to find something to offer her.

“You seem,” Casey looked at her as if studying her brain through her skull, “as though you’d have a sweet tooth.”

“Why do you say that?” Alex looked at her, slightly indignant. Outside of being used as a method of intimidation, it was normally rude to brazenly note observations as such in the world she was used to. It was far more polite to make it sound as though it was a question.

But Casey just laughed softly, pulling a box out of the fridge and popping the lid. She fumbled with the contents for a few seconds. In the chair Casey had set her down in, Alex could not see what it was until Casey approached, holding a dessert fork in one hand with her other carrying a plate with a generous portion of red velvet cake.

“Fancy ass cake for a fancy ass lady. I made this yesterday, so I think it's still fine to serve you, even if the frosting set a bit more than I prefer. You don't have to eat it all, but I hope you at least try it.”

With that, and not even waiting for a thank you, Casey brushed past, going to collect her sports gear. Alex felt like her head was spinning slightly with the lack of normal procedure. She was being left alone to eat cake in Casey’s apartment? Wasn't the redhead worried she would- well, Casey had commented on the fact she knew Alex was borderline snooping, but to leave her alone after that? How trusting was she? Unless this was some sort of test.

Alex decided to proceed as if it were. What would Casey be testing? How much Alex trusted her? Maybe she thought Alex wouldn't eat food a stranger gave her, well- not entirely stranger, but still. But she couldn't fault her for that, could she? Regardless, Alex wasn't like that anyway. Maybe she was testing if Alex was too prudish to eat what she had provided. That sent a small jolt down her spine- she really didn't want Casey to think she was a snob- so she lifted the fork and in small, precise movements separated a small piece from the slice.

As soon as she felt it on her tongue, she immediately broke off a much larger portion to follow it with. Fuck. It was delicious.

Soft vanilla cream coated somehow equally soft red velvet generously, but not overwhelmingly, and once Alex separated off the middle she could see it was triple layered. The flavor was delicate, but in a way that made every taste bud in her mouth moan.

If she had to go celibate for the rest of her life to eat something like this again, she just might have to consider that. This was better than sex.

“Grandmother’s recipe,” Casey purred, reappearing with a large duffel slung over her shoulder, leaning in the doorway. “Well, not really, but it was one of the first things she made after she got access to the Internet and all the baking blogs one can find on there.”

Alex was physically startled, too engrossed in her eating to have realized Casey’s presence had reappeared. Casey easily could have murdered her while she was eating cake, and she wouldn't have looked up once.

She pushed the plate as if making to stand up, holding a hand in front of her mouth as her mother had taught her- it was impolite to see people see one chew, after all- but Casey shook her head quickly and took a seat next to her, leaning back, the duffel hitting the floor with a soft thud while Casey stretched out her arms, arched her spine languidly. Alex tried not to let her eyes linger on the soft amount of muscle coating her.

“By all means, I don't mean to interrupt your indulgence.”

Alex sheepishly turned back, pausing only for a fraction of a second before returning to shoveling the cake into her mouth as gracefully as she could. Casey looked very pleased, so that settled her nerves by a fraction. She couldn't and also wouldn't complain about Casey's bemused grin.

“It's- it’s just been a while since I’ve eaten anything this good.” Alex said after a swallow, straightening in her chair a little bit, looking at the remaining bites on her plate as if they were whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

“You look good like this,” Casey said, which Alex’s eyes widened at, blinking up from the cake to Casey, who strangely looked equally delicious, “you're normally so tense. Glad my baking can fix that.”

“I- uhm,”

Casey chuckled at Alex’s fluster, resting her head in her hand. “Just teasing you. But really, I am glad you're enjoying it.”

“How did you learn to bake like this?” Alex murmured, decided to switch tracks since she wasn't very sure what was happening.

The copper-headed woman only shrugged. “You learn in a family as large as mine. I mean, if both of my parents were busy, I’m not about to let all the younger ones go hungry because the older one decided to order something only for herself. And now all my nieces and nephews demand I make them sugary shit when I’m over, so my pastries are decent enough.”

In the back of her mind, Alex was now a bit upset that she couldn't cook. Casey’s reasoning that it was due to her family made sense, but it also twinged Alex’s mind that if her parents were busy and she had nothing to eat, they'd just call for the private chef to come up and make her something nutritious enough. When she was in college, on her allowance, she had just kept ordering delivery. Casey and her seemed to contrast each other notably in that way.

“How many siblings, if I may ask?”

“Four. I have an older sister, and then there was me, and then two twin brothers and my baby sister. Not that she’s much of a baby anymore- she graduated college last year- but still. She'll always be little to me.” Casey exhaled, evidently very fond, before glancing back up. “And you, Alex?”

“I’m- I’m an only child.” Alex said, after a second, and before she could stop herself, “they needed an heir.”

Casey paused, looking up at her thoughtfully, before nodding. “I wished I was an only child a lot growing up. It's different now that I have my own life and everything, but… mm. Families are complicated.”

Alex nodded sagely at that, finally finishing her cake, and then after a small pause asked, “Did you want your own?”

The second she said it, she felt like it was wrong. It was an intrusion, and she was already in Casey’s apartment in Casey’s chair eating Casey's food with Casey's utensils. She was overstepping everything, and she was asking something from Casey she could not possibly believe she was entitled to knowing, without giving her an out.

Casey froze, her eyes icing over. She stared at Alex for a long moment, who now was sure she had done something horribly wrong, but then Casey’s eyes shifted from blank shock to mildly upset.

“Sorry- yes, I did. It didn't work out that way.”

Alex swallowed, and realized this was a decisive moment. She had relaxed, and she had slipped up, and now Casey was rigid, and if she bounced back off of Casey and tensed, she’d never get what she wanted.

So then, biting back her nature and what she was taught to say in such situations, she said softly, “It didn't for me, either.”

The atmosphere shifted entirely, so much it seemed like the colors had changed spectrum. Alex was now used to how fast her colleague could run through emotions and facades, and although that familiarity was from the courtroom, Casey’s demeanor now changing into something almost like solidarity reminded her a lot of it. Casey dropped her momentary coldness as fast as Alex could put down her form, but unlike when Alex changed the face she wore in order to elicit the response she wanted, Casey seemed like she genuinely just had a change of emotion.

“You're still young, Casey,” Alex continued, encouraged by the attorney’s return to warmth, “it’ll happen.”

“Oh, please. Alex. You’re what- two years older than me?” Casey chided, her voice light. “And you're hot as hell, so I’m sure you have suitors.”

“Casey, have you looked in a mirror recently? If I have suitors, you must have a line from here to the DA’s office.”

“Oh, you charmer.” Casey scoffed, but Alex meant it. She slid her hand underneath the now empty plate, bringing it to the kitchen, before picking up her duffel once more. “And now you get to be my driver.”

“I’m honored,” Alex smoothly joked back, collecting her purse and standing up.

She glanced around Casey’s kitchen, then glanced around the foyer, one last time before she followed the redhead out of her apartment. She noted the shift of atmosphere the second she stepped over the doorstep, and internally found herself hoping it wasn’t the last time she was there.

A more sensible part of her brain reminded her just now that she had decided against pursuing Casey, so such thoughts were not worth lingering on. Another part of her brain indignantly riled that she could enter someone’s apartment without any sort of connotation. A third part of her brain wanted to reexamine the circumstances of the decision to blacklist Casey from the possible companion category, while a third sighed loudly and wished they would all shut up. A fourth part snarled that she was not going to allow herself to be vulnerable with this enigma- yes, despite her niceness and her willingness to provide her with cake she still didn't have any grasp on Casey's psyche, so that's what she was- until she had enough to cover her ass if something went wrong. A fifth part just wanted to see Casey smile at her in the kitchen like that again. The fifth part managed to distract most of the others with daydreams.

Casey understood that Alex was in thoughts, so she did nothing to compel a response, although Alex was sure she thought she was musing about family or law or such.

Nothing was said until they reached the front door of the building, which Casey opened and offered, and then resigned to follow Alex to where she had parked. She gave a low appreciative whistle when she climbed into the front passenger seat tugging her duffel down and into the legroom.

“Fuck. I knew from the outside you had a nice car, but… jesus christ, Alex.”

“What? Oh.” Alex glanced behind her as if only just now registering that. It was a nice car. Her Cadillac had been a birthday present from her uncle, especially because her Bentley was sold off after her death. “I- thank you. Well, only the best for you, right? Now that I’m your cabbie.”

She was rather pleased with the hints of a surprised blush forming on Casey's cheekbones. If Casey kept throwing out random compliments at her, she should return that, right?

“It's just because of my bike-…”

“Please. You’re so quick to dish out the teases until I do so?” Alex hummed, amused, and Casey only huffed in response, pointedly looking forward.

Alex set the softball arena as her navigation’s destination, and allows Casey on aux, the same melodious background sound filling the car speakers as they begin on their way. Being the driver is good. If she was the passenger, she’d be darting her eyes too constantly to look at Casey. Casey apparently does not have this struggle.

“So tell me, honestly,” Alex starts, to fill the silence with a topic she knows Casey will yap over, “between you and Stabler, who has the better swing?”

“Me,” Casey says, with absolutely no question in her voice. “Elliot is good- but he’s too used to his job. In softball, most of the swing is supposed to come from the rotation of the shoulders, not the movement of the arm. Elliot relies so much on the idea of punching he doesn't really get that. He tries to push his palms forward and pushes one shoulder down. Besides, I’ve been playing softball for a much longer time than him.”

“How long?” Alex asked, glancing over at her in the passenger seat. Casey was so forthcoming with information- well, yes, Alex had asked, but…

“Since my sophomore year of high school,” Casey answered, “There was this fight involving one of my little brothers and I- well, that's beside the point. Regardless, the coach took me aside the next day, said he’d never seen someone swing like that, and asked me to try out. I did, and that was that.”

Alex let out an exhale that felt like a soft laugh, so Casey quipped in response, “Have you ever played any sports?”

“Fencing,” Alex offered, “and equestrian, for a little.”

“Equestrian?” Casey perked up, “Wow, that's amazing. I’ve always wanted to try riding a horse.”

“I didn't really enjoy it much-” Alex looked over again, and she realized that was a mistake, because Casey was looking at her with such interest in her eyes that Alex felt as though she needed to run for the hills. “I- I… it just wasn't for me.”

“Why not? If I can ask.”

“My instructors had to scold me constantly for being too stiff,” Alex murmured, trying to make it sound lighthearted despite to some degree admitting the biggest self-struggle she had, “when you're on a horse, the horse has to be an extension of you, the same way when you hold a bat- actually, I’m not entirely sure of that, I’ve never played a ball-sport, but- when the muscles of the horse move, you need to adapt and move with it. Otherwise, the horse becomes vexed.”

“So young Alexandra was just being a vex to horses?” Casey chuckled, and Alex tilted her head at the jest.

“But if you tell anyone, they’d never believe you.”

“Oh trust me,” Casey snorted, “I’m not about to let other people know about baby Alex being a thorn in some training horse’s side. That’s something only I get to know.”

“Hey. You just used the adjective ‘young’, and now ‘baby’- am I regressing? And I was more a pain in their back rather than side, unless I very immensely misunderstood where you're supposed to ride horses.”

In reality, the small thrum in her heart that she now associated with the younger attorney was very pleased with the information Casey apparently felt territorial on information regarding her. She couldn't describe to herself why that made her happy, but it did.

“Sigh. ADAs and their technicalities,” Casey shook her head, “and no, I could never accuse you of regression. You only ascend.”

“Good. Quick study, Casey.” Alex purred, the words a bit too soft and a bit too smooth, although she hadn't really thought about it that way until she saw Casey shift and decided she was very pleased she had said it.

It was Casey’s turn to fall into a blushed silence, her eyes fixing suddenly very straight on the road, as if she had never seen New York City before. Alex felt victorious, and she basked in that feeling.

They arrived at the softball field shortly, and as soon as they pulled over in the dirt parking lot and Casey stepped out of the vehicle with her duffel she was essentially jumped by a collection of random people Alex believed she probably had seen previously in the DA’s office- other ADAs, a couple interns. They surrounded Casey eagerly, spouting game talk- apparently feeding Alex cake had delayed her arrival, and she was the last one, so they had been waiting for it. The copper-headed woman gave her an apologetic wave over the shoulder as she was yanked off, and Alex felt uncomfortable. She tried not to feel as though she had just been shunned. If she had spent less time in her intern years sucking up and networking with her uncle and her uncle’s friends, perhaps she would know some of them. Her career was jump-started, she did not have the bond the others seemed to share of watching each other pull themselves up the ladder- despite knowing logically some of them must have also come from nepotism, at least to some degree.

The softball field was fenced in by wired mesh, and ‘softball field’ was really the only way she could describe it, because it was nothing else. There were a couple of bleachers that reminded her of a cheap high school movie- her school had definitely never had anything like that- but otherwise, it was just a meshed-in square in the middle of a flat field, with a large brick box-like building on the side. She spotted Munch already seated on said bleacher, though, and although she didn't know him as well as she knew Olivia, who her mind had been looking for initially, she wandered over.

“Hey,” he greeted her on arrival, motioning to the place next to him, which she tentatively sat down on after her eyes skimmed it to ensure there wasn't a layer of filth (there was, but she ignored it) “Liv's trying to hype up Elliot. He really wants to get Casey back for the last match.”

“What happened in the last match?” Alex muttered, not especially interested but aware she was required to continue the conversation, inspecting the floor of the bleachers for a place to put her purse. She decided directly beneath her was probably the cleanest.

“She- well, nothing exactly. She’s just ridiculously good. Not many of the DA team have her skill, but so long as she’s there she continuously wipes the floor with ‘em. MVP, easy.”

Munch turns to her, almost accusingly. “Oh, you're rooting for that team, aren't you?”

Alex considered that for a moment, then, “I’m rooting for Casey.”

“But, team-wise, you're on our side?”

“I’m just rooting for Casey.”

Well, we had the whole gay talk in the squad room earlier, so-”

“Careful,” Alex chided, cutting him off with a harsh look in her marble blue eyes, “your boyfriend is here.”

Munch looked over with confusion, then saw Tutuola walking towards them, and shot Alex back a glare through his dark glasses. As if on cue, Olivia materialized and plopped herself down next to Alex, handing her a flask and wiping her mouth with the back of her palm indicative of the fact she had just taken a swallow. “El has been given the best pep talk I physically know how to give. If he doesn't win, I’m done showing up to these.”

“Alex is rooting for the enemy while drinking our alcohol,” John fired, but Alex turned to him and, apparently intimidated, he visibly backed off. Olivia just laughed.

Alex took a swig from Olivia’s flask, grimacing at the feeling of vodka burning down her throat, but she took a second swig almost immediately. She already felt uncomfortable, skin prickling and writhing, and being drunk would make it better.

The game began with little issue, and Casey had meant it when she said it wasn't a real tournament so much so as a large group of very competitive friends being cheered on by a large group of friendly drinkers.

She was bored until Casey took the batter’s stand. Alex had absolutely no clue how softball was played, but Casey looked perfect.

It was probably the alcohol talking. Between her and Olivia, they had made quick work of the flask, Liv because she had started to become anxious on Stabler’s behalf, and Alex because she was double-thinking her decision to show up. But if she hadn't shown up, she never would've gone to Casey’s, she never would've gotten that cake and she never would've seen the younger woman's reaction to being told she was good.

And God, Casey was good. Alex watched her sprint, the way she swung so relaxed but so intentionally, completely in her element. It was dark other than the stadium lights, which definitely were not up to standard, but when Alex caught a glimpse of Casey's eyes she could see very clearly the glint of fierce determination.

John Munch had been very correct that the DA’s team- Casey’s teammates, were not comparable to the copper-blonde’s skill. But to that matter, neither were most of the detectives. Alex noted the reality in the way that Stabler swung as if he was trying to hook something instead of swinging a bat- Casey was right- but he still did fairly well.

Not well enough to keep up with Casey.

Every time she hit the ball with a heavy ‘thwack’ that reverberated in Alex’s spine, every time she started darting, long legs stretching out to slide the last meter, the furrow in her brow, the light reflecting off her hair. Alex felt positively dizzy. That last part could very well be from Olivia’s vodka- or so she reminded herself.

She had tied her hair into a bun- Alex mused to herself it was unnecessary for her to have straightened it, then- but it bounced as she walked up to take- no, own the stand. Her lips were pressed into that thin line she made when she was concentrating in the courtroom and was similarly undeniably attractive here, except the corners of her mouth tugged up in a fierce smile. Her movements were fluid and Alex decided that if she would've done well in equestrian, with the way she moved- her intensity was elegant, her movements as refined as a swimmer’s. Alex felt her chest tighten and her heart pounding as she watched, feeling almost greedy for more sight of Casey.

Other than her, she was displeased with essentially everything else. The people next to her were becoming progressively more drunk and more rowdy, cheering and applauding and calling out encouragement or jests to active players, who would yell incoherently back at them. The bleachers had grit stuck in the groves in the aluminum and she mused to herself she’d need to get the pants she was wearing cleaned.

The game simultaneously lasted fucking forever and was much faster than Alex thought it would be. Casey's team won, so Alex had to deal with Olivia huffing and chastising the DA’s team next to her and John giving her a very pointed look, competitive in the way of the observer, that she returned coldly.

Casey didn't come around until the detectives were almost ready to go. Stabler had returned, clenching his jaw after trying to convince a couple people to do some more practice runs with him, and Olivia bolted to her feet to sympathetically pat him on the shoulder. Alex, after a fraction of a second, rose too, and followed. “I don't get how she does that,” He kept grumbling, and Alex had to agree- but her opinion of that was different.

Alex watched out of the corner of her eye as Casey bounced around- literally bounced around, some of the younger interns were literally jumping with the adrenaline and Casey was mimicking it for their benefit- and they hugged each other tight around the shoulders, fluid motions and hearty laughs, until their noses and cheeks were tinted pink with breathlessness. Casey was here celebrating a win- a double win, now- but apparently, some other girl on the team had just lost a major suit according to someone Alex had overheard on the bleachers and the DA’s team was clearly playing on the enthusiasm and adrenaline to cheer her up. Alex watched as Casey grabbed the other lawyer in a tight hug, then pressed a kiss to her cheek, and her stomach fluttered and she looked away very quickly. She hoped no one noticed.

She looked back in time, though, to see Casey shaking the woman off her arm, and that settled the unease in her bones quickly. The other woman held her hand for as long as possible, looking at her with eyes akin to a lost puppy, but Casey only flashed her a bright smile and kept walking, letting her arm fall loosely over to her side as she walked away. She quickened her pace of exit when she saw Alex looking in her direction, jogging over.

“So, Alex?”

“So yourself. You were fantastic.” Alex chimed, and even though Casey was sweaty and was coated in dirt from the floor of the field she extended an arm to give her a half-hug and Casey took it, resting her head on Alex’s shoulder for a moment before letting go.

The others in the group shared similar observations, albeit half-heartedly, while Casey just grinned apologetically at Stabler who stood staring at her blankly. After a moment, the two exchanged a very informal fist bump, and tension eased from Elliot’s broad shoulders.

They chatter about the game for a while, recounting moments of note or teammates that were new or actions that were game-changing, until it was randomly noticed they were the last ones outside, the other legal system workers apparently having moved on to their own after-party that Alex noted Casey apparently had turned down and the other detectives had sullenly collected belongings and dipped.

“So, McMullen’s?” Stabler muttered, “I could use a beer after all this.”

“That's the one all the way near the precinct,” Munch argued, but Alex interjected with, “Let's do it.” That place was familiar- she had grown accustomed to it, and selfishly it was also very close to her apartment. John was left alone in his argument and they all nodded, separating towards cars with the knowledge they’d meet up shortly.

“You may have to drive,” Alex murmured, “I’m above the legal limit. That okay?”

“I get to drive your fancy-ass car? Hell yeah!” Casey cheered, “That's a reward on its own. Come with me, though, I have to grab my things.”

There was a small building off to the side, big enough to serve its only purpose as being a locker room. There were two doors and no windows, effectively a brick block that had no aesthetical component at all, and the lights flickered on as Casey went into one of the doors and hit the light. It kept flickering, though.

Alex stood in the doorway for a second, wrinkling her nose at the smell of very heavy spray deodorant and sweat, but Casey was talking to her, so it felt rude to let the door close separating the two, and after a second Alex stepped in behind her and tugged the metal door closed behind her.

“Did you mean it, though? That in the fourth inning I-”

“Yes, Casey,” Alex interrupted her, “you played very well. I don't say things I don't genuinely stand behind.”

It was rather endearing that Casey wanted her verbal approval, despite the fact Alex was completely aware Casey knew she had played well. She had been getting a stream of compliments and attention from her peers. It made Alex salivate that Casey had chosen to ditch the girl who had reminded her of a dog to talk to her instead. Maybe that was the alcohol talking. Maybe she should keep reminding herself that it was the alcohol talking.

“Hold on- look away, I’m going to change really quickly, and then we can get going.”

Alex felt her cheeks grow warm but she obediently turned on her heel to face the metal door, hearing the tug of a zipper as Casey stripped off her pants, then the rustling of fabric as her shirt came off, and Alex ground her teeth against each other trying not to imagine what was directly behind her. Casey sighed deeply, and Alex bit into her cheek.

She stayed like that, staring bolts of lightning into the door, until she felt Casey tap her shoulder, relinquishing her of the obligation. “Alright. Car keys, counselor?”

Alex pawed them over from her pocket wordlessly and Casey offered her a confused smile but did not press the issue, letting herself out of the locker room and heading towards the car.

She had changed into a white polo shirt, the top two buttons missing to dip and show her distinct collarbones, the cut of the sleeves emphasizing the subtle but firm muscles of her forearms. Beneath it, she carried dark jeans with a leather belt. She hadn't removed her hair from the bun, even though several strands of hair had fallen out near the front, and Alex tried to fixate on the shape of said bun on the back of her head while following her towards her own car.

Her internal monologue was failing to come up with reasons why she shouldn't be allowed to touch Casey's shoulders just a little bit. She could see the groves of muscle through the polo shirt- a little bit, right? Just a little bit?

Alex turned the music up in the car when Casey put it back on so she wouldn't need to make shaky conversation, and Casey seemed content enough with that. The duffel bag had been discarded in the back, Alex now in the passenger with Casey in the driver.

“You seem happy,” Casey commented finally during a lapse in the music- a long outro, or a long intro- and Alex just smiled slyly back at her. She was.

The bar was wonderfully familiar. Alex followed Casey to the booth in the back, the one their group always frequented, and the others were already there, looking up from menus no one really needed because they'd been there so many times everyone already had a signature.

Alex ended in between Olivia and Casey, the brunette on her left towards the wall, and Casey in the gap between her and the end of the couch. Casey struggled slightly- the booth wasn't large enough to accommodate a group of six people, but Alex was more than happy that it forced Casey to try to curve into her side. She didn't move over, didn't try to shove herself against Olivia to make more room for the redhead. With one leg crossed over the other and her shoulder firmly on Alex's, though, Casey made due.

They chirp orders to a bartender who wanders over, Alex graciously agreeing to carry this first round as she had earlier mentioned. Stabler ordered a beer more expensive than the type he normally drank, and Casey shot him a pointed look. He looked mildly apologetic, and Casey rolled her eyes.

John and Fin quickly began chattering about things below Alex’s pay grade, so she turned her attention towards Olivia and Elliot, who were discussing an upcoming event at Stabler’s children’s high school- a fundraiser, or some other such thing- and Casey listened eagerly. Alex stayed mostly quiet, unaware of how to participate in a conversation about public schools and children.

Besides, she had a much larger problem to attend to.

Casey's arm had snuck around her waist and was currently resting on the slight ridge of her hip.

Logically, she could reason that it was because she was intentionally making it more difficult for Casey to sit comfortably, the younger attorney still awkwardly very close to the edge of the faux-leather booth, but still. Her thumb was resting directly on the iliac crest, and if Alex paid close attention it was almost as if Casey was moving it, the rest of her fingers snaking just below it, grasping at the fabric of Alex’s pants. Maybe this was her punishment for enjoying forcing Casey to wriggle and balance on the very end of the seat.

She opened her mouth to join the conversation, but Casey, as though experimenting, ran her thumb in a line across the jut of her hip bone and Alex stiffened on impulse. As soon as Casey felt her spine tense like that, she hastily let go. Alex wished she could ask her to leave her hand there, though.

Why are you thinking like that, she internally chastised herself, Alex, you don't- you said you wouldn't try to do anything with… but she’s pursuing you, now, isn't she?

“Yes, Alex?” Olivia asked with a note of confusion, and she realized she had made to speak and then lost herself in thought. She didn't really remember what she was going to say, though. Her jaw was still open, but she just snapped it shut and shook her head quickly with a ‘never mind’.

Casey's hand did not return for the rest of the hour or so spent chatting at the bar, despite Alex’s struggling attempts at manifesting. She was uncomfortable, now, not because of Casey, but because of Casey's absence. She was pressed so close to her side but somehow it felt as though Alex had messed up, prematurely rejected her, and that something would shift in the dynamic now. The itch and ache behind her skin got progressively worse as she tried to mask her anxiety behind the mask, when really all she wanted to do was talk to Casey. The copper-headed woman’s conversations always included either Olivia or Stabler or Munch, though, and there was never a moment in which Alex could separate her off to start a banter or a hushed conversation between the two of them alone. So, mostly, Alex just sat there, watching her coworkers indulge in the moment while feeling isolated and cold. Her spine was not able to relax after Casey’s hand had left.

She started to feel sick with the rigidness of her body. She wanted to peel it off.

“You seem distracted,” Casey murmured lightly, her breath warm over the side of Alex’s face, her mouth precariously close as she leaned her face towards the side of Alex’s jaw, speaking into her ear. Alex hadn't even realized she had moved.

She steeled her eyes and turned to stare at Casey coldly, almost as if trying to scare her off, a habit she regretted the second she realized what she was doing- I won't let you get this close, I'm warning you- it said, but Casey simultaneously picked up on it, picked up on her regret, and simply grinned at her. She seemed pleased, even, that she was eliciting a response. Alex fumed inside of her mind at the amount of control the redhead had attained over her in the span of a night that wasn't even over yet.

“I’m fine.” Alex said in a hushed whisper, “Just- just drunk.”

Casey provided a low hum in the back of her throat, placing her jaw on Alex’s shoulder, blinking up at her through slightly narrowed eyes.

“Aren't you, Casey?”

“I assumed I’d be driving. I had a beer, but that was around an hour ago, now.”

“Oh.” Alex shifted, her face heating up slightly, “You're taking me home?”

“Do you not want me to do that?”

“I- but, how would you get home from mine? I don't- I can't really give you my car-”

“I can walk from yours,” Casey responded easily, to which Alex shook her head quickly.

“God, Casey, I’m not letting you walk home alone in the middle of the night, just-”

“Are you two planning on leaving soon?” Olivia interrupted loudly, who had drunk a bit more than both of them and seemed irritated in the way drunk people were. “I cannot wait to get away from this guy here,” the brunette sighed, jabbing a thumb at Stabler, who stared at her incredulously. Like Casey, he had also refrained from drinking so he could drop Olivia and John off.

“Olivia, I’m driving you home, and I stand by what I said.”

“But that doesn't even make sense!” She scolded him, “Why is the plural of mouse mice and the plural of goose geese and the plural form of moose still moose? Who the hell has ever said ‘Oh yes, what a lovely pack of moose there in the distance’-”

“Liv, I didn't say it didn't make sense, I just said it wasn't relevant-”

“Excuse you. This is very relevant to my day-to-day life.”

They blinked at each other for a long, slow moment, and Alex decided she did in fact need to get away from them. But, as she reached for her purse to drop what she owed, shame bloomed suddenly in her heart. Fuck.

She groaned quietly, her index extending automatically to rub the base of her glabella, tilting her head backward and squeezing her eyes shut with frustration and also an unwillingness to share what she definitely needed to.

Her discontent at her mistake triggered something else in her stomach, and she felt the familiar sensation of everything inside of her moving uncomfortably, skin aching and turning. She felt like she was about to be scolded by her father- or worse, her uncle- for lacking composure, for forgetting to keep track of every minor detail and interaction held.

It was important to be on top of everything constantly- no, it was necessary. She needed to. It was drilled into her as much as her skin was part of her anatomy, and regardless of how stressed it made her, she needed it compulsively.

She wanted to be someone else, and now she'd have to pay the price for it.

“Alex?” Casey’s voice sounded mildly concerned, and Alex tried her best to hide the embarrassment in her voice when she turned to the redhead and conspiratorially muttered, “I forgot my purse.”

She knew exactly where it was- well, unless it had been stolen since then, but she knew where she had left it. Putting it directly beneath her on the aluminum bleachers of the softball field had not been a wise choice given the principle of ‘out of sight, out of mind' and her lusting after Casey and Casey’s ridiculously attractive shoulders had not helped to remind her to grab it before they left.

Luckily she always kept three hundred dollar bills in her phone case in case of an emergency, so she popped it open and removed one to cover the table, waving off the others who tried to offer her change and similarly dismissing people offering to cover her drinks the next time the group joined at a bar.

“Well, we’ll just go back for it, then.” Casey replied smoothly, and Alex thanked the heavens Casey had not taken this as an opportunity to try to tease her, because Alex genuinely would've gotten mad if she had.

“But that's- that's half an hour each way,” Alex sighed, “and I’ve had too much to drive, but I don't want to ask you too-”

“Extra time with you? I can't complain. Come, now.” Casey grinned, swiping at her shoulder gently the way she had with Elliot earlier, and Alex couldn't help but crack a weak smile and follow her and she made her way out of the bar, waving goodbyes to the others.

“I meant it, though,” Casey starts once they're outside of the building, “you did seem distant back there. Is everything… alright?”

“I-” Alex started without meaning to, clamping her jaw shut and watching Casey unlock her car so they could both climb in, Casey placing the duffel in the back again as prior.

She watched the younger attorney raise an eyebrow inquisitively, which she responded to with a loose sigh.

“Nothing.” She said blankly, and listened as Casey echoed her sigh.

Alex could see the gears churning in Casey's head as they both clambered into Alex’s Cadillac, Casey’s eyes roving over the interior with awe once more. The copper-headed woman wasn't verbally pushing her to explain her issue but Alex wasn't stupid enough to think Casey would let it drop. She briefly worried that Casey thought it was her fault, but if she did, maybe she wouldn't provoke an explanation, and Alex was okay with that. She didn't feel like she wanted to verbalize this discomfort with Casey.

This car drive was again quiet, but not because Alex was in a state of drunken content, but rather because Alex was fighting personal demons and Casey was trying very hard to run through every possible list of what could've upset the older attorney.

“It was just one of my mulberry set, so it doesn't matter that much if it's actually missing or if someone stole it.” Alex said finally, to fill the void of silence.

Casey squinted at her, trying to figure out if that was sarcasm, but it didn't seem to be.

“I’m not going to grant that a response,” she said finally. “You rich kids are something else.”

Alex thinned her lips into a straight line but didn't respond. Casey was right, of course, they had very different upbringings. That's why Casey's skin suited her body, and Alex’s was constantly irritating her.

Neither attorney tried to fill the void of silence after that, not even with music, Alex staring blankly out of the side window while Casey focused on the dark road in front of her. Alex had moved on from her demons to anxiously smoothing her thumb in little patterns on her wrist, very uncomfortable without a distinct reason. This wasn't really about the purse, to put it plainly.

After what felt like an eternity, Casey pulled over, and Alex stumbled out of the car. The place was utterly devoid of people, although the lights were still on for some reason, and it wasn't hard to spot the dot of her bag in the distance even with her glasses. There was a light behind the bleachers that illuminated the spaces between plates of metal and she could make out a shape that blocked out the light exactly where she had been sitting. Without checking to see if Casey was following, she set out, wincing at the feeling of gravel and damp dirt beneath her shoes.

She had picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder before she registered Casey’s presence again, behind her, and the attorney's voice was soft as she spoke.

“Put it back down, Alex, play ball with me.”

Alex froze.

“What?”

“Play ball with me,” Casey echoed, and when Alex turned around the copperhead was simply tossing the softball up and down in one hand without even looking at it. Casey’s eyes were instead fixated intently on her.

Alex shrugged her purse strap tighter to her side as if it were a life raft of sorts. “I don't play sports, Casey-” she tried, but Casey just shook her head slightly, the bun that had slowly been coming out over the duration of the evening bouncing along with the rotation of her head.

“Just catch it,” Casey soothed, “and if you really hate it we’ll go back to the car. Put your purse down- come off the bleachers, come over here.”

It was hard to disobey when Casey sounded so direct, so after a moment of hesitation and a minor internal thrashing Alex set her bag down once more and stepped off the bleachers, onto the grass where Casey was. She knew her face must be exerting a twisted, concerned expression, but although Casey’s eyes were soft they were also immensely firm. Determined.

“I don't know… how to catch a ball.” Alex said lamely, holding her hands out stiffly in front of her. She was rewarded for her confession with Casey’s chuckle.

“Don't think about it,” Casey said, “just focus on me. You’ll catch it.”

The redhead paused her casual toss-catch rhythm, cupping the ball in her palm and letting her arm hang down by her side. She smiled reassuringly at Alex, who hadn't felt nervous like this since grade school.

“You've been doing fine focusing on me tonight,” Casey teased, after Alex hadn't answered, and Alex flushed, “so- should be doable. Ready?”

Alex wanted to curl into a ball and hide, honestly, so no, she wasn't ready. Straight spine, stiff shoulders, her head feeling like it was propped up on a pedestal rather than a neck. Her hands still were held loosely in front of her, as though someone was passing her a wine glass to nurse rather than a ball to catch, and her feet were right beside each other in the ‘natural’ resting position for her- which had been very unnaturally taught, and then forced, until young Alex did not automatically stand any other way. Casey’s brow quirked as if this was amusing to her.

The blonde’s brow furrowed in anxious concentration, and she took a quick breath, trying to focus on Casey as the redhead had so advised. And despite her teasing tone, she had been right, it was easy for Alex to focus on her.

It was really dark out, now, so Alex could only see the parts of Casey that were illuminated by the overhead beam, but it was angled in a way that she could still see most of her. Casey’s eyes were teasing but attentive, and her posture was entirely relaxed. She didn't look like she had when she was actually playing, which relieved Alex immensely.

When Casey had been playing, she had seemed athletic and agile, with muscles that rippled under her skin the way that a leopard’s might as it pounced. Now, more similarly to her courtroom appearances, her arms had relaxed back into how they normally appeared- although they always looked wonderfully lean- only slightly more built than the average woman’s. Her fingers were lithe as they wrapped around the softball she held, a degree of comfort interacting with the object that read easily as years of experience. Alex tried not to note the details of how the white polo shirt clung and accentuated her bust, or the curve of her waist. Casey’s stance- leaning slightly, more weight on one leg than the other casually, did not help Alex scrape her eyes off of her figure. She felt herself relax, slightly, drawn in by the details of the other woman’s form. She supposed it was easy to stop paying so much attention to herself and everything that was right or wrong in herself and her posture when she was given permission to study someone as- well, frankly, hot- as Casey.

“I���m ready,” Alex said after a long pause, running her tongue over her dry bottom lip to ease the nerves. She wasn't sure what prompted her to say it.

Casey eased her arm in a low arc, passing it once, then twice, the arc getting larger each time, before curling her fingers around the ball as she let it go in a firm underhand toss. Trained as she was, it flew in a bow formation, slow and controlled as it made its way directly towards Alex, who caught it instinctively, trapping it between her two palms.

She looked up at Casey with eyes as concerned as if she was carrying a grenade, and Casey laughed, her hands on her knees, evidently pleased.

“Good! Go on, throw it back to me.”

Alex’s nose scrunched up with focus as she tried to recreate the same motion Casey had done, her limbs feeling weird and disjointed, stiff and loose, unlike the fluid motion Casey had produced. But regardless, she threw it.

Casey catching it was entirely due to the redhead’s own ability, because unlike when Alex had caught it due to Casey’s precise aim, Alex had no clue how to direct the ball properly, and it fell short by about a meter, which was anticipated the second the ball left her hand by Casey who scrambled to get it, achieving the fear with only a mild degree of difficulty.

“You did it!” She cheered, bouncing with excitement the way she had when she had won the softball match hours prior, and Alex couldn't help but acknowledge her enthusiasm as very infectious. A small, genuine yet shy smile played on her lips and Casey darted backward again, taking her stance to throw it once more, which Alex did not move to protest.

Unlike last time, when Alex had caught it very close to her chest, the blonde with some degree of determination reached her arms slightly higher, managing to catch it while it was still in the air above her. She still used both hands, but it was a stark degree of progress.

Alex's face split open into a grin of genuine emotion, now, a smile that awkwardly expressed the strange pride she felt at managing the relatively very simple task, and without hesitation she threw it back to Casey, using enough force this time- correcting her precious mistake- so the ball was easily once again resting in Casey's hand.

“Look at you go,” Casey beamed, the corners of her eyes angling with the intensity of the smile she flashed Alex with, “now, this one’s harder, okay?”

This time, Casey threw it overhead, albeit still much gentler than she normally would. Her previous throws were meant to land directly at Alex’s stand, but this one aimed for a foot or so behind her. The blonde, however, had seemingly gained enough understanding of the ball’s arch to realize, hastily taking a few steps backward to once again encase it.

Alex mused to herself that she felt as though she was getting the hang of this, so she returned the ball once more, still using underhand, watching as Casey bounced backward twice to give them more distance. She threw it, and Alex realized it was flying too far to the side, and she scrambled in that direction, bending down strangely but managing to catch the softball before it hit the floor.

She looked up with a very sheepish expression, but was rewarded with the sight of Casey smiling as if it were Christmas morning, and she relaxed, standing up. Casey had apparently taken a few more long strides backwards, away from her.

“I can't throw that far, come closer.” She called, but Casey shook her head.

“You can make it to me- try out throwing overhead.” Casey urged, “And if it falls short, I’ll run and get it anyway.”

Alex stood, awkwardly still for a long second, staring at Casey, who just kept her bright smile. After a second, she glanced at the ball in her hand, and, mimicking Casey’s movement once again, extended one arm behind her slightly, rotating her torso, and then shot it forward, leaning forward into her swing.

Although she stumbled, looking up prematurely to see if the throw would arc the way she had wanted it to, it did fly almost all the way to the other attorney, who easily lifted a singular hand to catch it in her palm.

This time, Casey did not wait for Alex to recompose before swinging- and she did it differently, this time, lifting a leg to fire the ball at her the way she had during softball except with a bit less force. Enough force, though, that although Alex again scrambled for it, the softball flew too far to the side and the blonde woman ended up on her knees in the shortly clipped grass. She turned her head to stare indignantly at her companion, who just poked the tip of her tongue out of her mouth nonchalantly and motioned for Alex to go fetch.

She would never do anything so.. unpretentious. However, with Casey patiently grinning at her, Alex sighed, standing, brushing off her knees quickly, and then briskly pacing to retrieve the ball, which had landed only a few meters to her side.

“Are we done, counselor?” Novak called from her place a ways away, and Alex raised her eyebrow at the other woman incredulously.

“After that?” She scoffed, and threw the ball again more forcefully, purposely not really aiming at Casey who thus had to hasten towards it, reading its path but still needing to scurry multiple meters, catching it but only just barely. Alex refused to note how elegant the motion was, despite how awkward it really should've seemed.

Alex did not have the time to further study Casey’s elegance because the redhead was already firing back at her, one leg raised high at the knee as prior, and that only really made her understand how attractive Casey’s legs were- her undivided attention to the attorney’s arms had made her miss out on something else equally appealing.

This time Casey was gracious enough to aim at her once more, and Alex caught it, each grab easier than the previous.

They repeated this exchange, Casey’s throws were much smoother and intentional, except she kept occasionally throwing slightly higher or lower or to either side to force Alex to move herself. Alex occasionally missed her grab or not being able to close the distance in time, which only fueled her play intensity when she returned the ball. Alex’s throws were mostly loose, but for the most part, they went far enough, and Casey was more than happy to scramble for them, ending up on her knees multiple times but never failing to catch it firmly.

Casey had started laughing, at some point, delighted to be playing no matter how bad her play partner was, and Alex hadn't even realized when her grin became permanent and her exhales started to sound like breathless giggles.

Eventually, Alex’s breathing started coming faster, and there was a thrum in her heart unrelated to Casey, and said woman realized the blonde was starting to get tired. She stopped the back and forth once the ball returned to her palm, choosing instead to jog over.

“Let's try something- hold this.” She murmured, tossing the ball into the air, which Alex now easily and casually managed to snag.

She reached over and adjusted Alex’s position, smooth hands gliding to shape the rotation of the older woman’s shoulders, lightly pressing to move her hips, gliding across her arms to rearrange the assortment of limbs.

She then turned to stand beside her, mirroring the posture she had just moved Alex into, looking at her with a sly grin. “Now, when you throw, I want you to curve like this-” she demonstrated, her motions causing the fabric to ruffle, her shirt rising up slightly at the hem to tease Alex with a thin strip of the woman’s abdomen, “and raise your leg like this, and then,-” she made a hushed whooshing sound, a cartoonist version of a ball being thrown.

Alex nodded obediently, starting to prepare herself before Casey shook her head quickly. “Give me a headstart- I go on two, and you go on zero. Okay?”

The blonde was now mildly confused on what Casey was attempting, but regardless nodded, frozen in the position Casey had sculpted.

“Five, four, three..” Casey counted down, slowly creeping her body down into a low lunge, “two-!” she bolted forward, and then Alex understood, mentally counting down the last two numbers before flinging the ball as hard as she physically was able to.

She was then content to straighten out, catching her breath, while watching Casey sprint after it. Her strides were so long and so light Alex wasn't sure she was even really touching the ground. With the movement, her ever-loosening bun snapped open, and auburn hair flowed as if cascading behind her, and Alex's breath caught still in her lungs.

Even though the ball did manage to outfly her sprint, she was damn near close when she dove for it, sliding on one knee to retrieve it, skidding to a halt a little ways away from where she had initially landed. She jumped up, shook herself off, and then jogged back, a breathless grin on her face.

“I thought I had it,” she panted, “I’ve always wanted to try doing that.”

The copper-headed woman proceeded to flop down on the grass, rolling so she was lying on her back looking up at Alex who was still breathing with a little more labor than she’d like to admit from their previous shenanigans. After a second, Alex carefully sat down next to her, near but not close enough to be on her loose hair by accident.

“You were very close,” Alex agreed, eyes never leaving Casey’s enthusiastic ones. “I didn't know people could be that fast.”

After a brief second, she reached out and rested her hand on the front of Casey’s shoulder, who blinked up at her. It was a reassurance that Alex’s earlier silence wasn't her fault, Alex tried to convey, that Casey had done nothing wrong and everything right.

Casey sat up to look at Alex more directly, but she raised a hand to keep Alex’s fingers resting on the flat of her chest and an inch below her collarbone. Her face was close to Alex’s leaning forward so boldly Alex almost thought to lean back.

“You look good like this,” She cooed so lightly it was almost smug, almost victorious, “you’re normally so rigid, so overtly mannered.”

It was then that Alex realized she had not registered anything of herself outside of trying to figure out how to position her arm to throw better for the past while.

Nothing had seemed to exist outside of Casey laughing gleefully across the field, bouncing from one foot to the other while waiting for her to launch her softball back to her- as much as Alex could launch it- and as soon as the ball had left her hands, the only thing she thought of was the sight of Casey running to snatch it midair, her hand itching to feel the leather again so she could try again, see if she could throw it farther, and more forcefully.

See if she could make Casey laugh harder, the giddy sound almost echoing in the night, filling the void and almost creepy vacant softball field with audio so genuine it made Alex’s heart flutter. See if she could elicit another called praise, or another witty comment from the woman she had been eyeing so intently.

Her limbs and joints felt loose but connected, blood racing through her veins happily as if finally allowed to dart around her body, resurfacing energy and releasing dopamine in a way she hadn't felt in what must now be years. Her bones felt as light as a bird’s, and her skin was so enthusiastic at the play it nestled onto her body like a puzzle piece that finally clicked into place, and even now that she was finished, it felt like her own. For once, Alex had earned the right to feel comfortable in her own skin.

She hadn't cared to ponder what she must look like, in a blouse layered by a sweater in a field with her glasses, tripping over herself to try to play ball with a woman who could pass as a semi-professional athlete. Her chest must be heaving in an effort to catch her breath, her lungs entirely unused to anything more strenuous than stairs, her legs long but her ability to use them only equivalent to a fawn’s. But whenever she had caught Casey's playful eyes, they looked at her like her stumbling self was a million bucks, and that was enough for her.

This was enough for her. Her goal for the night had been realized in full.

“What are you thinking about, counselor?” Casey breathed, and Alex realized she had leaned even closer, dark green eyes searching her’s as if she could read words in Alex’s pupils.

Alex almost thought she was assuming something until she caught the microaction of Casey’s eyes darting to her lips, before glancing up a fraction of a second later with a hint of shyness in her expression- something Alex had never seen, but certainly wasn't complaining about- and Alex was more than happy to indulge her, seeing as how Casey had spent the last hour trying to ensure Alex could ease some of the rigidness from her soul.

She left the hand Casey had touched on her collar, but brought her other hand up to cradle the back of the redhead’s skull, closing the small gap between their faces, and pressing her lips gently against the other woman’s.

Casey let out a small, whimpered sound, and Alex tried to let her go, only to be tugged back with ferocious intensity.

The younger woman pushed her into a more structured sitting position, one leg swinging over Alex’s lap to straddle her hips, Casey’s hands cupping the sides of Alex’s neck, one thumb on her jaw. Her lips were so soft, but so exhilarating, Alex felt as though she could melt, Casey pulling them apart every couple seconds just to come back closer a second later. Due to the nature of their position, Alex had to crane her neck to angle her face up at her, the column of her throat exposed, and Casey was clearly thrilled, her hands exploring her jaw and below it, soft touches that felt rather greedy.

Alex was finally able to take what she had been fantasizing about- when Casey pulled them apart for a second, panting for breath much harsher than she ever had while exercising, she untangled her hand from the auburn locks she had grasped and ran her hand instead down Casey’s shoulder blade, reveling in the feeling of the soft muscles and the small noise Casey made when she did so, catching the woman’s mouth once more to swallow the sounds she made as her hands both moved to smooth over Casey’s biceps, her triceps, her forearms, and then back up again.

“Alex,” Casey breathed into her mouth, before Alex shifted, pressing her back into her lips, to which Casey had no protest. The copper-headed woman’s hands stopped so much exploring as they did holding for support, and Alex mused to herself- the first coherent thought to break through the haze of bliss she had found herself in- that Casey must have thought she’d be the one to have the other squirming. The thought amused her, and only compelled her to continue feeling her up.

“Alex-,” Casey was whining now, Alex’s hand slipping behind her lithe figure to her shoulder blades again, running her fingers down savoringly before turning her attention to her ribs, using her thumbs to brush against her breast only slightly before moving down her to waist, utterly enraptured.

Alex bucked her hips, startling Casey as the blonde pushed her off entirely, and then kept pushing, rolling them over until Casey was flat on her back, and Alex was over her, her knees buried hard into the dirt to keep her above in a way that would've made her quite upset at the grass stains they’d be sporting later had she not been so enchanted by the feeling of Casey moving, Casey’s muscles bunching and twitching as she moved against her.

“Oh,” Casey gasped, and Alex paused, raising her hands to either side of Casey’s head so she could smile down at the woman whose cheeks were so red they almost matched her hair.

Her blonde hair fell to frame Casey’s face, who breathlessly tried to push it out of the way so she could see the triumphant gleam in Alex’s eyes, and then Casey propped herself up on her elbows to land a soft kiss on Alex’s grinning lips.

The normally overtly composed woman broke into a giddy laugh, sitting up, before rolling to the side so she could lay next to Casey in the dark grass. Casey snorted lightly at the sound of it, rolling to the side so she could study Alex’s gorgeous side profile as the woman looked up to the dark night sky above them.

“I guess this solves the issue of us going to separate apartments with only one car,” Casey breathed, and that just made Alex laugh harder, lulling her head to the side to meet Casey’s eyes and see her quiet smile.

All of Alex’s strings had been cut. Right now, she felt anything but stiff. Anything but rigid.

[super-nova5045]

snowjanus nation can we like toxic yaoi it up in the snowjanus ao3 tag…all we’re getting is fix it fics and stuff and while there’s nothing WRONG with that pleaseeeee can we talk abt how the toxic homoerotic competitive codependent doomed best friendship fucked them up so badly one of them DIED and the other literally became an EVIL DICTATOR…like that is next level toxic. radioactive yaoi. nuclear, even.

anyways this is me begging fanfic writers to put more of an emphasis on the Doomed Homoerotic Best Friendship of it all…never getting their catharsis so why should we. haunted by what could’ve been. let me COOK

[lovesickeros]

popping in randomly after almost an entire month just to talk non stop about the tsaritsa again everyone sit down.

specifically just thinking about the implications of tsaritsa's ideals originally being about love + the abandonment of those ideals to complete her goal of, presumably, destroying Celestia or whatever she's cooking up. to the point even her people don't love her and I probably don't even remember a time her ideals were of love. now it's all just ice and snow and cold.

which makes romantic fics w her even funnier because she's purposely removed this part of herself and suddenly reader walks into teyvat like they own the place (they do) and I can only imagine her reaction. angry, probably. because why you? what are you doing to her that's caused her hundreds of years of strict adherence to rejecting "love" both from others and to others to just. collapse. absolute shattering of her world and you probably don't even know it bc if nothing else she's good at hiding it. a lot of denial. tries to pick you apart and see what's makes you so different.

and oh she just hates it. she loathes it.

basically one sided enemies to lover trope because she can't stand you for a while but if you stick around she starts warming up to you and it makes it WORSE. so much worse. tries to distance herself but your just everywhere and it gets on her nerves because why does she love you? she isn't capable of love, not anymore. she thought she was.

g-d forbid one of the harbingers or PIERRO notices she'd never live it down. might even consider the implications of just killing you (she doesnt). worse if you know about it and act like a brat she will lose her damn mind

just the tsaritsa being an absolutely horrible mess internally.

[sovamurka]

Argh, still in pain thinking about how beautiful it is that Ice Fantasy actually entirely dedicates itself to honouring such wonderful and undoing thing known as love.

[sanemistar]

kissable lips — katsuki b.

contains ★ katsuki (post timeskip) x fem!reader (no pronouns used), fluff, suggestive (+17 only), making out, nothing too explicit but still, very slight swearing, rivals to lovers, 0.8k+ wc. ﾉ requested for my milestone event.

event m.list ★ mha m.list

tension filled the surrounding air, sounds of racing heartbeats and heavy breathings echoed through the empty room. you were pinned against the wall as katsuki hovered on top of you, sending shivers all over your back the moment it made contact with the cold surface.

his rough hands gripped your neck tightly, stopping you from writhing and squirming underneath him. keeping you in place as his lips continuously smashed against yours. teeth clashing every time you kissed as he hungrily devoured your lips, not stopping for even a moment to let you breathe. he was forcing you to catch up to his very fast pace, which was quite hard at first. but when you matched his pace, everything felt so heavenly.

you felt his hands move from your neck down to your waist, exploring every inch of your skin. you held onto him tightly for dear life. adrenaline rushed through your blood while your arms securely wrapped themselves around his neck as if it was the most natural thing to do, pulling him even closer as your fingertips ran through the locks of his spiky, blond hair. ruffling it until it became even more disheveled than it was.

if you were told earlier that you'd be here passionately making out with not only one of the best pro heroes, but also your very own rival. you'd simply call it a joke and laugh it off. you just couldn't imagine it happening, not even in your wildest dreams. you two hated each other’s guts, and your only goal was to surpass the other.

however, to your surprise, it happened. and you hated to admit it, but it was far better than you would've ever imagined. you couldn't pinpoint the reason why you were enjoying it, but one thing you knew for sure was that you wanted it, dare to say that you wanted even more. it awakened an unknown desire in you that you’d never known of before, or maybe it had been there all along and you hadn’t noticed until then.

at that moment, the only things that filled your head, occupying your mind completely were thoughts of katsuki and how he held you in his arms as he covered you in kisses, his enticing taste that had you craving for more. your train of thoughts was abruptly cut short when he finally pulled away after what had seemed like an eternity.

your half opened, hazy eyes were caught in his gaze, your lips were all red and swollen, head still dizzy and light. your chest rapidly moved up and down, still trying to catch your breath after having such an intense make-out session.

“katsuki..” his name rolled off your lips in a faint, breathless tone.

your body lost composure and you almost fell to the ground due to your knees getting weak and shaky from all that tension and intensity. you leaned on the wall for support, since you had very little to no strength left to stand on your own.

"shit,” his voice was all low and hoarse, his hot breath fanned against your flushed cheeks as your lips were still slightly parted.

“you moron, if you keep callin’ my name like this while makin’ that face, i might go insane.” he groaned, and your face reddened even more at his words as you wondered what kind of face you were making at that moment.

“why did you of all people have to have the most kissable lips?” katsuki mumbled, but it was loud enough for you to hear. a hint of crimson red was seen on his cheeks as his eyebrows furrowed slightly, it was such a rare sight to see. and you took the time to carve it clearly in the back of your mind.

“hmmm…” you hummed sweetly, your hand traced down to his chest as your fingers ran up and down his shirt, leaving delicate touches. you leaned over and whispered softly against his ears.

“my lips aren’t the only kissable parts i have.”

you knew you were being bold there, a little too bold even. but you wanted to tease him as you tried to push him to his limit, wanting to know what would happen if he were to go insane.

“imma ‘bout to shut you up ‘nd make you regret that fuckin’ cocky attitude of yours.” katsuki was determined to shut you up, and you best believe that he did.

𝜗𝜚 taglist: @sylusdoll @ayrastv @hanaeriin @spkyssn @stunies @17020 @kalsplace

[jinwoosbabyboo]

"Love and Brat Taming"

How I imagine the LADS Men brat tame and the type of dom that they are. Artwork @/osk_purinnumee on twitter ‼️ MDNI ‼️ This for the freak nasty mfs in my inbox … I love y’all hope you can lucid dream about this 😘

Zayne

Type: Edging | Voyeurism | Restraints | Temperature play??

Sweet stoic Zayne....Mr. "watch your hands" in public but completely different behind closed doors. Now let's say you decided to spend all afternoon being very handsy. He would warn you multiple times and of course you'd keep going even when he glared at you.

I feel like Zayne is definitely the type to .... watch. He would one thow-wow percent sit you on his lap with your hands tied in front of you and make you play with yourself while he watched.

What did he use to tie your hands? The tie that you kept yanking on all day in public to whisper in his ear.

"Since you can't control your hands I'll control them for you" He would watch you play and squirm on his lap and the minute he sees you're on the brink of climax he'd whisper a stern "Stop." snatching your wrists away, holding them above your head in one hand, making you whine. "Deep breaths ... there you go ... now start again"

He would do this again ... and again ... and again until you're spouting apologies and begging him to let you cum. He's not rough as a matter of fact he's so gentle it almost makes this punishment that much hotter, I mean worse.

Don't forget he's touch starved so while you're playing he's busy having his fun exploring your body stimulating every part of you. He'd go back and forth from just watching you to devouring your neck and pinching your nipples using his evol make them pebble faster and then taking them into his warm mouth.

By the time he lets you cum you're a sweaty puddle of pure bliss. He'd definitely talk you through it and end it with "next time heed when you've been warned"

Now next time he tells you to watch your hands you're torn between wanting this punishment again or wanting the sweet Zayne that gives you what you want without making you beg.

Sir?! Wtf you mean heed when I've been warned I'm acting up on your next day off fym

Rafayel

Type: Sense Deprivation | Overstimulation | Manhandling | Breeding Kink

Raf is the type of tamer who makes sure you can't walk and you're sore as hell the next day. He's merciless. He takes you how he wants you.

For example...

"Will you like me no matter what I become?" You promised. Such an innocent question. No.

You should have read the fine print because you had no idea it included the dominant powerhouse he'd become when you decided to ignore him after you went to bed mad at him and proceeded to ignore him for a full day.

"Don't play with me we don't do that we don't go to bed upset with each other because shit like this happens" He doesn't give more than half of a warning. He gives just one and that's it and its hardly a warning.

Raf doesn't get upset with you often but he's a whole different person when he does. He is definitely the type to blindfold you and tells you to be a good girl and no touching. "Keep your hands above your head"

He'd flip you back and forth between being sprawled out on your back and being flat on your stomach with a pillow tucked under your hips and much more. You're getting fucking rag dolled so hold on tight.

To start he would touch you everywhere except where you wanted most however he still would have you dripping wet and I mean dripping. I imagine once he gets you to that point he's the type to eat you out while making you explain why you decided to ignore him when you know he hates it. He'd edge you a little every time your hands strayed too close.

You would have absolutely no good reason for ignoring him for a whole day on purpose so he'd keep going snatching orgasm after orgasm from you until you're pushing his head away. Big mistake because he said no touching and keep your hands above your head. Be ready to get pounded into the mattress until dawn. For sure the type to fill you up over and over again just to watch it drip out so he can push it back in with his fingers.

"Raf I can't- " he'd cut you off "You can take it ... gimme one more I know you can do it" he would make sure you can't walk the next day so you have to spend the entire day with him to make up for lost time.

I need this man to take a sip of wine and let it flow into my mouth through a kiss and bite my lip after.

Xavier

Type: Edging | Bondage | Spanking | Dacryphilia | Sadism

Alright I know you just read sadism and you wanna jump me now let me explain hold on HOLD ON! Relax! Put the bricks and tomatoes down let me explain. I can feel it in my BONE MARROW that Xavier knows how to perfectly mix pleasure and pain. He's literally likes it rough talking about some "You'll have to do it harder" bro imagine him being able to do it harder to his girl? HES ON THAT ! Man I kinda just wanna yap about him.

He would give you a safe word he would immediately stop if you use it don't worry. He's a calm cool collected Prince that fucks you like you're a slut. He doesn't give you a warning because he knows that you know better.

If you decided to test his patience and be a brat ALL DAY he's throwing you over his lap and spanking your ass until it's red while he's two knuckles deep inside of you and that's not even the main course.

He would tie your hands together (Just like he's threatened multiple times). He would definitely tie them to the headboard and he'd eat you until you're crying from pleasure, but no you're not allowed to cum yet. "You're so pretty like this" as he wipes your tears before going back to nip and bite at your thighs.

He would rag doll you as well untying you and flipping you over into doggy style and just teases you by rubbing his tip against your folds and just slightly pushing in before backing out and continuing his teasing giving your ass solid slaps when you push your hips back at him.

He would edge your soul out of you for hours and he's gonna wake you up a few hours later with his tongue after you fall asleep.

I need Xavier to rag doll me expeditiously.

Sylus

Type: Bondage | Spanking | Dacryphilia | Overstimulation | Breath Play

I know y'all have seen that one picture pose called "Dancing with you" and Sylus has his hand around your throat?????? What are we dancing to???? Are we naked????

Anyway....

Now maybe this is self indulgent but he's definitely using his evol to hold you in whatever position he wants you in. Since you couldn't listen to him we won't listen to you. He's two knuckles deep in you and is making you do all the work. He would have you ride his hand and make you work for it while he has the other wrapped around your throat cutting off your air and right when you cum he'd let go making you see stars.

Did he just make you experience euphoria?? You bet your ass he did.

He's not done with you though don't forget you were a brat throwing a fit in the middle of his meeting and couldn't keep your hands to yourself. He would eat you out till you're in tears "Keep your eyes on me" the second your head fell back in bliss he would stop causing you to snap your head up. "I gave you simple instructions sweetie" When you hit that point where you start trying to run from him he would stand up and tell you to "Keep it wet you know what to do" (Shout out Professor Cal) releasing only one of your hands and leaving to go finish his meeting.

YES! He would definitely tell his business call or whatever to give him a minute and he'd handle you then head back. Once he's done he's coming back and teasing you with his tip with his hand around your throat again. He doesn't mind spending the whole night taming you.

Side note: Sylus hates to see you cry .... unless you're crying from pleasure. "Fuck you're beautiful like this" he'd say and he'd kiss your tears as they run down your cheeks. Something about that dazed-euphoric look in your watery eyes and your wet cheeks gets his Ca-Cawk jumpin'!

I need Sylus to wrap those big ol hands around my throat and tell me "Relax you can take it princess"

[onlymimiwastaken]

Warrior Penelope stuff cause I've been listening to too many EPIC genderbent covers, and I wanted to give my take on it (also cuz I kinda want to draw it one day)

- Ares as Penelope's patron, absolutely! But Ares didn't have a huge cult in Sparta, although he wasn't hated. So my lore take version thing is that ATHENA wanted to be Penelope's patron (she had already an eye on Ody kinda) but Ares saw his chance, got to it first and became attached to Penelope without wanting to admit it, also because she saw the good and useful in him. Athena still watches over Penelope (especially after her and Ares platonically break up, which she finds really stupid) and is the one who does her best to protect Ithaca while she's gone. She's by Ody's side while he misses his wife and is mostly the reason why the Suitors hadn't taken over yet.

- To get Ares to realize his mistake, Athena tricks him into helping Telemachus defeat Antinous in Little Wolf because free bloodshed, only to end up sensitized by Telemachus because holy shit, my friend's son is here almost dying to this ASSHOLE who thinks he's so much stronger than MY friend the queen and even me like who tf does he think he is. Athena makes Ares fucking rational for once. And maybe even Aphrodite, as well, gets some damn sense in his mind like "they love each other like you and I and my girl is doing her best to get home you're going to apologize rn"

- ctimene holds a claymore double her height with no problems

- penelope is more "cold ruthless" than Odysseus, in a way that she's still poised (until the end or when she's really brought to her knees which is disturbing) while doing merciless stuff. She's emotionless a lot more (just on the surface)

- Ares was the one to give Penelope the idea of going to war instead of Odysseus, for obvious reasons. And Pen is really a mastermind among the Greeks ofc

- Ares and Pen fought in their My Goodbye version because she "held back her power while her friends got devoured" "she didn't even fight Polyphemus, didn't even TRY to kill him" "hid behind her wits to get things done". Because when fighting Polyphemus, she knew that if she tried to kill Polyphemus while he was asleep, they'd be stuck in that cave forever (like in the real Odyssey). And knew that fighting while her friends got killed would slow them down and probably get more people dead. And when they ran away, she didn't go back to kill the Cyclops even if she could've because of yes, mercy, but also because she would've awakened all the other Cyclops and sailing away was faster, better. Ares deemed this cowardice. Crazy thing, since one of the most important things to him is courage.

- Ares overstimates Penelope's power. Like, yes, she's exceptional, but still HUMAN. With her limits. He hasn't dealt with a human personally in years so he doesn't understand this, so his expectations are ridiculously high, which ends up breaking Penelope.

- During 600 strike, Penelope can actually breathe underwater and not hold her breath for such a long time and be fine because she's half naiad (yes, they are fresh water nymphs but still). Also this may make her even stronger around water (to a certain degree, she's still very mortal)

- calypso is pansexual

this is already a lot, ill add more when i think about it lol (also if i realize any of these ideas don't make sense)(check reblogs for more)

[latin5mamii]

don't touch me

warnings: smut, +18!

genre: JudeBellingham x you

summary: Don't let him touch you, or at least that was the plan...

author's note: Had to write this...

You knew what was going to happen, or at least, what you were going to do after that argument:

Dressing up in a black top and black mini skirt for the event that you both had to attend that night, you knew that outfit would drive him crazy. But this time, he couldn’t touch you all night because you wouldn’t allow it. The tension from the argument lingered; you were still mad, and he was still pissed off, but the moment he saw you in that outfit, his expression shifted.

His dark eyes searched for yours, tracing your body’s curves. He knew the game you were playing and both loved and hated it. He stepped forward, his hands reaching for your waist, but you pulled back.

"Who told you you’re allowed to touch me?" you asked, voice steady.

He chuckled, stepping back. "Alright, but I promise you, later, you’ll be begging for my touch."

His words set your body on fire, but you weren't about to give in easily. "I don’t think so," you said, almost breathless.

He smiled and nodded silently before leaving the room. Why was he so damn hot?

All night, you teased him relentlessly. You knew he was watching, and he knew you were too. Ignoring each other all night, pride kept you both in check. His eyes followed you everywhere, dark and intense, making you think he might be right: you might beg for him tonight, but so would he.

When you got home, the silence was filled with charged glances. As you passed by him, you lightly brushed his arm, hearing him exhale louder than usual. His gaze undressed you, the intensity of his look almost unbearable.

Without warning, he grabbed your arm, pulling you into him. His breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, "You’ve been driving me crazy all night."

Before you could respond, his mouth was on yours, hungry and demanding. He pushed you against the wall, his hands roaming over your body, claiming you. The friction between you ignited a fire that neither of you could control.

You pulled back, gasping for air, but he didn’t stop. He kissed down your neck, biting and sucking, leaving marks that would remind you of this night for days. "Tell me you want this," he demanded, his voice rough.

"I—" you started, but he cut you off, lifting you up and carrying you to the bedroom. He threw you onto the bed, his eyes dark with desire.

He yanked off your skirt and top, leaving you exposed. His eyes devoured you as he undressed himself, his movements quick and desperate. Climbing on top of you, he pinned your wrists above your head with one hand, his other hand trailing down your body.

"You’re so fucking beautiful," he growled, his fingers finding your core, teasing you. "I want to hear you beg."

You bit your lip, refusing to give in so easily. But when his fingers slipped inside you, curling and pumping, a moan escaped your lips. He smirked, increasing his pace. "That’s it. Let me hear you."

You bucked against his hand, your body betraying you. "Please," you whimpered.You didn't have to do that, but he's too fucking hot to not beg for him.

He pulled his fingers out, making you whine at the loss. "Not yet," he said, spreading your legs wide. He lowered his head, his breath hot against your thighs. "I want to taste you first."

His tongue flicked against your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through you. He licked and sucked, his fingers joining in, driving you wild. "Oh God," you moaned, your hands gripping the sheets.

"That’s right," he murmured against you. "Come for me."

The combination of his tongue and fingers was too much. Your body tensed, and you came hard, crying out his name. He didn’t stop, prolonging your orgasm, drinking in your pleasure.

When you finally came down, he moved up, kissing you deeply. You could taste yourself on his lips, the sensation pushing you over the edge again. "I need you," you whispered, your voice desperate.

He positioned himself at your entrance, pausing for a moment. "Say it," he demanded.

"Please, I need you," you begged, and he thrust into you, filling you completely. The roughness of his movements matched the intensity of your desire. He pounded into you, each thrust taking you higher.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. "You’re mine."

"Yes, yes," you cried out, meeting his thrusts.

He reached between you, rubbing your clit, pushing you towards another orgasm. "Come for me again," he ordered, his voice strained.

You did, your body convulsing around him, pulling him deeper. His thrusts became erratic, and with a final groan, he came, filling you with his warmth.

Collapsing on top of you, he buried his face in your neck, both of you breathing hard.

"Told 'ya you'd be begging for me"

[pellucid-constellations]

Are You Bored Yet?

Pairing: College!Bucky x Tutor!Reader

Summary: God, you hated Bucky. Bucky probably hated you, too. Maybe. It was hard to tell when he was drunk and calling you pretty at a party you shouldn't have gone to.

Word count: 8k

Warnings: Alcohol, annoyance to lovers, a bit of angst, a scary man in a parking lot, frat!bucky c:

a/n:​​​ I am so excited to finally post something!! It only took me four months 😅 If you enjoy it please please let me know ❤️❤️

Masterlist

~~

12:59 pm.

The birchwood table nestled in the back of the library was long but otherwise empty, the only thing occupying it being your laptop and quite a few books. He wasn’t late. Yet. You weren’t going to hold onto that hope, however.

Tutoring Bucky Barnes was not what you had in mind when you volunteered for the peer assistance program at your university. It was true you were only using the club to boost your resume, but you had assumed the only people reaching out for help would be those that actually wanted it. Unfortunately, that was not the case. 

Sure, Bucky wanted help. Just not with anything that actually warranted the word. He wanted help sweet talking the cops so they wouldn't shut down his parties. He wanted help recruiting girls to show up to his parties. And—the one thing you could actually do—he wanted help passing his classes with the minimum GPA required to not get kicked out of his frat. So he could continue to throw parties. 

Everything in his life revolved around his fraternity, which made you very important to him. When he wanted you to be. 

With your apparently astounding knowledge of biology (you took notes during lectures), you became the star in Bucky’s life every Monday and Wednesday from 1:00 pm (give or take ten minutes) to 2:00 pm. He was also very attentive during the thirty minute phone calls he initiated prior to tests, and always looked happy to see you when he passed you devouring a bagel at the crack of dawn in the dining hall. 

Every situation in which you had come in contact with Bucky was isolated and purposeful (minus the bagel). You didn’t hang out or invite each other places, and you were almost positive that if you were to see him in his natural habitat, you would want to tutor him even less than you did now, and that was saying something. So you were important to Bucky during the times you were supposed to be important, and he was important to you in the sense that he was a job. 

But as your laptop blinked the numbers 1:22 pm back at your unimpressed expression, Bucky became much less important today. You took in a long, tortured breath before sending your gaze up to the ceiling, giving it another three minutes before you truly gave up on him for the day. 

One minute. 

Two minutes. 

The library really needed new ceiling tiles. 

1:25 pm and you snapped your laptop shut. Your fingers itched to send yet another complaint about this whole ordeal Natasha’s way, but you stopped yourself. She had already heard plenty about Barnes at this point, plus she always gave you a weird look every time you came stomping into the apartment, grumbling about something else he had done. 

You hated her weird looks, all raised eyebrows and stiff lips.

With your backpack heaved onto the table and your things slowly funneling in, you figured a nap was the best reward for sitting in the library for an unnecessary twenty-five minutes. Your last prickle of irritation was stifled at the prospect of a warm bed as you stood, only to find that irritation had returned to you tenfold. In the form of Bucky Barnes. 

“You going somewhere?” he seemed to taunt, his bag slung casually over one shoulder. 

Your jaw ticked. “Home.” 

His mouth turned up at one side, an expression you had learned meant he found you amusing. He never seemed to outright laugh at your annoyance, but apparently, it was hard to tamp down all of the joy he got out of it. Bucky took two long strides to meet the table you were attempting to abandon. 

“But I still got about—” he checked his watch “—thirty-three minutes? And an arsenal of questions about amino acids. Help a guy out.” 

“And I still got—” you checked the nonexistent watch on your wrist “—no patience for this today. You’re over twenty minutes late, Barnes. Use that watch to set an alarm on Wednesday and I’ll tell you everything you’ll inevitably forget about amino acids then.” 

He groaned, rounding the table to set firm hands on your shoulders as he hovered behind you. “Sit. I’ll buy you a coffee and I promise I won’t be late on Wednesday, okay? I was dealing with something before this and lost track of time.” 

“Were you dealing with another sorority girl in your bed? Who was it last week? Amber? No, Michelle?” 

“It’s a Monday, y/n. Cut me some slack.” 

“You came to me on a Wednesday with a hangover,” you deadpanned.

Bucky grimaced, the expression visible to you as he managed to guide you back into your chair. “Oat milk, right? A double?” 

You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest as he tossed his bag by your feet and jogged over to the coffee cart just outside the library. He fumbled with his wallet when he went to pay, and you watched him point to the carton of oat milk the barista had yet to reach for. His greek letters were printed on the gray hoodie he had haphazardly thrown over his shoulders, and you held the reprimand on your tongue when you saw the matching sweatpants he donned. 

The last time he had shown up in his pajamas—late—you’d had some choice words for him. Bucky turned around with your coffee then, poking the straw through the lid and sending you a sheepish smile through the window. 

He was lucky you accepted bribes. 

~~

“Please,” the boy across from you continued to beg, a pen held loosely between pliant fingers. “Just ask her, that’s all I want. You can even come too.” 

“Oh, wow, the great frat president letting me come to his stupid toga party? How could I ever thank you enough?” 

It was Wednesday now, and Bucky was surprisingly on time to the tutoring session. You’d gotten through about half of the last bio lecture before he started asking you ridiculous questions that had nothing to do with the content. Today, he was dead set on getting your lab partner from chemistry to go to his party this weekend. 

“Okay, yeah, you could come to whatever party you want, you know? I put you on the list—but this one will be even better if you’d just do this one thing for me.” 

You finally tore your eyes from your laptop, glancing lazily at him. “And what would make this one so—wait, what list?” 

He waved you off. “The one at the door. Did it like… the second week we started this? Anyways, Wanda?” 

You let this new information settle and tried to ignore whatever implications came with being on some frat list thanks to Bucky. He had never explicitly invited you to any of his parties over the past few months and you had never asked to come. Apparently, you could have shown up whenever you wanted to and had a grand old time. 

Not that that sounded the least bit grand. 

Bucky was looking at you still, all pleading features and a soft, infuriating smile on his lips. When he wasn’t talking to random girls in the library or taking annoying phone calls in the middle of your sessions, he was sort of endearing. In a terrible, awful sense. 

You groaned, throwing yourself back against your chair in begrudging defeat. “I don’t even talk to her outside of chem. Don’t you think it’d be a little weird to invite her to a party that I’m not even going to?” 

“So come,” he answered simply, as if that was in the realm of possibilities. 

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “Sure, I’ll come to your party, Barnes.” 

“Great,” he grinned. “Vision’s gonna be so hyped.” 

You watched as he pulled his phone from his pocket and kept your lie to yourself. He wouldn’t notice that you didn’t show up on Friday, and likely wouldn’t even bring it up the following Monday. He always had such vibrant, headache-inducing stories that you were sure your absence would be nothing more than a fleeting footnote. 

“You have a toga, right?” he mumbled, face still screwed up in concentration as he continued his text. 

“Isn’t it just a sheet all twisted up?” you asked, shutting your computer. Tutoring was obviously over. 

Bucky pocketed his phone again, brows raised in amusement. “Depends on your motives for the night.” 

“And my motives wouldn’t be to… wear a toga?” 

He chuckled and huffed out your name, resting an arm along the back of the chair to his right—your chair. “Other motives. Like if you’re trying to get someone’s attention.” 

You blinked at the warmth along your back. “Oh, of course. Then I would twist up a pillowcase instead, right?”

“Something like that.” 

He smelled like coconut. Like a day at the beach but afterwards, when the sunscreen still lingered in the air but fresh clothes covered skin that had been warmed by the sun. You could usually ignore whatever expensive combination he had on his skin, but when he got close like this it was almost impossible. 

Part of you always wanted to chuck his arm away when he leaned over you, but another part of you liked that he kept it there. It was a strange part of you, the same one that relished the looks you got from sorority girls in the library and harbored a sense of pride each time he made a blatant attempt to touch you. 

You had spent fleeting moments analyzing these emotions and chalked them up to some internalized desire for validation. Nothing else. Bucky was a hot guy and everyone knew that, so having his attention—in any capacity—felt nice. Sometimes. Meaning right now it was nice that he was looking at you with his arm practically glued to your back, but next week when he showed up late with a hangover and tried to steal the jacket off your body it would be not so nice. 

The duality of man. 

It helped your partial insanity that Bucky would never actually be interested in you. You weren’t in a sorority or interested to his parent’s money, and, worst of all, you didn’t know how to maneuver a sheet into a toga. When he put his arm around you or moved your hair from your eyes as you leaned over a book, it was probably out of habit. It felt nice, but you knew reality. This was a passing phase, and by the summer you wouldn’t even speak to him anymore.

“I’ll text you more info about everything,” Bucky called, pulling you from your thoughts. “You can come early and I’ll help you with that pillowcase.” 

You froze, the book you were shoving into your bag pausing in your hands. “Uh, maybe.” 

“No, seriously, it’d be better if you came early. I was kidding about the pillowcase but if you come on time it’ll be too crazy for me to show you around.” 

“You don’t have to show me around, Bucky. I’ve been to a house party before.” 

“Y/n, are you not coming to this thing?” Bucky accused, swiping the book from your hands and softly tossing it on the table. It still made a loud thud that had a few bitter looks thrown your way. 

“Dude!” you whispered, meeting each mean gaze with your apologetic one. “Why does it matter if I come? You just wanted Wanda anyway.” 

He knocked your hand away when you went to reach for the book again, encircling your wrist with his fingers. “You just lied to me. Straight to my face. You said you’d come and now you gotta.” 

You gave his fingers an experimental tug, but he was unrelenting in his soft grip. You glared at him through your lashes, meeting his uncharacteristically stern gaze that contrasted the humor on his lips. 

“You ever hear of sarcasm?” you whispered with a half-hearted bite. 

“Unfortunately, that’s about all I hear outta you,” he smirked back. 

You rolled your eyes, finally yanking hard enough to free yourself from him. “Then you should have known I wasn’t going to come. No matter what ‘list’ you put me on.” 

“What else could you possibly have going on on a Friday night?” 

Ouch. You felt your brows furrow even though you didn’t will them to, and even worse, you felt a rash defensiveness lodge itself in your throat. You hated the heat that now prickled along the skin of your neck, and you hated even more how it extinguished all of the good warmth you had felt from him earlier. 

This was humiliation, surely—the kind that only came from feeling small. 

“You don’t have to be a dick,” you seethed, snapping up the remainder of your belongings. “Just because I don’t want to go to your stupid frat doesn't mean I have nothing to do. I don’t spend all of my time hoping to get invited to ridiculous parties.” 

Bucky shifted up in his seat, eyes blown just a fraction wider. “Whoa, I didn’t mean—hey, stop a sec, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“Whatever, Bucky,” you droned, as a new temperature seeped into the skin of your palms and made them clammy. Any semblance of delusion you’d fallen into earlier was long gone now, but you knew to expect that. He wasn’t interested in you and you weren’t interested in him. But embarrassment wasn’t a good feeling, regardless of a multitude of reality checks. 

Bucky got up when you did, his clothes looking creased and lived in. “We still have time in our session,” he defended, arm jutting out to the table. “C’mon, I didn’t mean you don’t have friends.” 

Your glare sharpened. “Great, another insinuation.” 

Bucky sputtered out incoherent words as you continued your trek outside, resorting to grabbing your wrist again, this time with more urgency. You felt the heat in you simmer down to a dull throb as he made contact, mostly out of respect for your future self. If you made this a huge deal it would only embarrass you more. 

“Look, it doesn’t even matter, okay?” you huffed, but he just tugged you forward. It was then that you realized you were in the doorway of the library, effectively blocking it off from anyone trying to leave. Bucky pulled you close enough to his chest that you weren’t in the way anymore. His cologne was back with a vengeance, your nose just inches from his collar.  

You took a steadying breath, blinking away the remnants of shame. “It doesn’t matter, I overreacted.” 

He clicked his tongue. “I’m still apologizing. I didn’t mean any of that stuff you were talking about.” 

Of course he did. You were sure he thought it all the time. He just didn’t mean to say it out loud. 

“It’s fine,” you rushed. “I have to go, anyway. Office hours.” 

“Okay,” he nodded, soft and low, like he just remembered he was in a library. “You’ll still come this weekend, right? Even if Wanda can’t?” 

“You have some kind of girl quota you need to meet?” you pressed.

Bucky smiled, still so close to you that you could feel the small breath that accompanied the expression. “And she’s back.” 

You left without promising anything, and Bucky left feeling like you had. 

~~

Sometime between Wednesday and Friday, your detestment for frat parties had snowballed into determination. You were going to go and you were going to look like you were having so much fun it was ridiculous. Then, on Monday, when Bucky would usually poke and prod about what you’d gotten up to over the past few days, you were going to pretend that it was nothing for you. That you did that every weekend. 

Of course, you didn’t. Your weekends typically consisted of calm nights with friends or dinners near campus. You’d been to a party before, sure, but you didn’t exactly frequent those kinds of scenes. 

Bucky had continued to make it clear that you were invited. He had texted you a few times, prompting you to come and thanking you for getting Wanda to agree. The messages looked strange under the plethora of biology related questions, but that just spurred you further into action. You weren’t just a tutor with no social life, and Bucky was going to see that tonight. You couldn’t remember doing something out of pure spite before, but you figured having fun to prove a point wasn’t the worst thing. 

Wanda pulled you out of your thoughts as the Uber rounded the last dark corner and revealed an overcrowded house with too many lights on. She rambled on about some guy she couldn’t wait to see and confirmed that she would likely be spending the night. You expected as much; it hadn’t taken much convincing to get her to come. If this night resulted in anything good it was apparently the blossoming relationship between your new friend and a man you’d never met. 

Wanda continued to chat as she yanked you out of the car and past the yard littered with sparse grass. The music was loud already—the type of loud that you needed to be at least a little drunk to enjoy. And that was the plan. 

“Okay, if I start dancing on a table you pull me down. And if you start dancing on a table I support you, right?” Wanda giggled, her voice now raised as you walked past the threshold of the house. 

“Exactly,” you yelled back. A guy nodded to you as he leaned against the front door, his eyes glancing up from his phone and then returning. It seemed Bucky’s ‘list’ was a page on some guy’s notes app. How luxurious. “Let’s drink.” 

The next hour was a blur. You tried your hardest to get as drunk as possible and Wanda tried her hardest to find the British man she was enamored with. You hadn’t seen Bucky, but you figured he wasn’t looking for you too hard since you hadn’t responded to any of his texts. Not out of anger, but because you didn’t know what to say. Somehow, with alcohol warming your blood and music vibrating your skin, none of that mattered anymore. 

You: Your house is soooo dirty

Your phone jostled in your grip, people bumping into you from every side. When he didn’t answer in the thirty seconds you spent staring at the screen, you locked it and continued on with your mission. 

After a few too many shots of hard liquor, you switched to beer. Gross, but decidedly less likely to make you pass out on the staircase of this house. Because you weren’t lying in your text—it was slightly disgusting. You figured you should clarify that with Bucky. You reached for your phone once again, knocking your head against the wall in the process and giggling to yourself. You had no idea where Wanda went. 

The device was snatched from your hands just as quickly as the screen had lit up your face. 

“You ever answer this thing?” an accusing voice called out. “Or do you just insult people and put it on do not disturb?” 

The look on Bucky’s face would have made you roll your eyes in any other circumstance. Right now, however, it had a startled laugh bursting past your lips. You clutched at your stomach as the laugh grew and you found yourself tipping forward until your forehead met his chest. You felt delirious, almost silly. A hand came around to rest on the back of your neck.

“Alright, alright.” Bucky’s words rumbled against your face. “I get it, this is hilarious.” 

“Your… your face,” you breathed out, catching your breath enough to part from him. “It was all—” you mimicked the straight line of his eyebrows, voice raising in a mocking tone. “—You don’t ever answer your phone. You’re so boring, y/n, answer your phone.” 

“I didn’t call you boring. Hey—hey,” Bucky stressed, reaching for you as you leaned too far to the side, a smile still lingering on your face. “Jesus, y/n, how much did you have to drink?” 

You went to mock him again, but his fingers on your jaw stopped you. He tilted your head up and to the left, and although he was much more composed than you were, you could still smell the alcohol on his breath. You scrunched up your nose as he continued his inspection. 

“Why’re you being so uptight?” you slurred, trying and failing to push away from him. “I thought you were all like, ‘I’m Bucky and I party and get drunk and have sex with girls.’”

Bucky pulled you forward as you laughed at your impression of him, his shaking head making you blink away a bout of dizziness. You toppled over a set of stairs as he threaded his fingers through yours, and then you stumbled through a doorway and onto carpeted floors. Being pressed into an uncomfortable chair was the most jarring action, the world still spinning as you sat. 

“You’re even more mean when you're drunk,” you heard Bucky mumble. You couldn’t quite catch him as he moved around whatever room you were in. “And I don’t talk like that.” 

You let out a careless sigh and leaned back. “You soooo talk like that.” 

Something cold pressed to your hand, followed by another touch to the back of your neck. You gazed down at the water bottle being guided up to your lips and couldn’t find it in you to fight against it, despite the small spark of defiance on the tip of your tongue. After about four large swallows, Bucky was satisfied. 

He asked again how much you’d had to drink. 

You answered that you didn’t know—that it didn’t matter because he wasn’t your dad and you were having fun like you always did. He bit the inside of his cheek and didn’t say anything for the next few moments. 

And then, “Thought you weren’t gonna come tonight.” 

You hummed, rolling your head against the chair to look up at his standing form. “Of course I was going to come. I love parties. Love drinking alcohol.” 

His expression twisted into something you couldn’t recognize. “God, you’re so drunk.” 

“M’not even that drunk!” 

“You’re willingly in my room right now. You’re plastered.” 

“Maybe I want to be in your room.” 

“We both know that’s not true.” 

You chuckled breathily, closing your eyes so you wouldn’t have to see the pretty flush of Bucky’s face. “You think you know everything, don’t you? Don’t know much about me though. Or biology.” 

Bucky kneeled down to the height of the chair. “And what do I not know about you?” 

“So much.” 

“How much?” 

You bit into your lip and cracked an eye open, catching the amusement that had slipped past the strange mask of his emotions. With blissful ignorance, you heaved yourself forward on the chair, your nose a few inches from Bucky’s. His eyes didn’t waver from yours as you swayed. 

“You don’t know that I’m the most interesting person on Earth,” you boasted, fingers gripping the upholstery of your seat. 

“That right?” Bucky probed, his voice a melodic hum. 

“Yup, I’m always really busy and even though you think I’m some boring biology tutor I’m actually super cool and, like, go to raves and stuff.” 

His brow twitched but his mouth stayed soft. “I’ve never said you were boring. And I don’t think you’ve ever been to a rave.” 

You groaned loudly and flopped against the backrest of the chair. “See! I’m telling you I do all this cool stuff and I’m so drunk my fingers are buzzing and you still don’t believe me.” 

You crossed your arms with a huff, a small pout forming on your lips. In any other context, this behavior would probably embarrass you to no end. In the dim light of Bucky’s room where you felt the feeling leave your fingers and the care leave your mind, you were just disgruntled, not embarrassed. If you remembered this tomorrow the latter would surely catch up to you.

Bucky stared at you from his spot on the ground, his gaze a bit foggy and unfocused. He was clearly intoxicated, as you deduced earlier, and it made him look more wild. Mused hair and pink cheeks, he looked like he’d been having plenty of fun before he found you. It was distracting. He was distracting you from proving that you were having a blast.

“What?” you snapped, the tone a testament to the drunken fit you were throwing. 

“You’re so fucking pretty.” 

He must be really, really drunk. Despite your clouded mind, you knew that, but the words affected you just the same. Your lips parted as a new lightness both lit up and compressed your chest, and Bucky watched the movement. 

“Yeah,” you scoffed, but it was hardly a scoff. “Sure, Bucky. How much did you have to drink—” 

“I’m not lying. I’ve thought about you in my room for weeks and now you’re here and you’re so pretty. Even when you’re yelling at me.” 

“You’ve… thought about me in your room?” 

Bucky shuffled forward and you subconsciously parted your legs to allow the space for him. “I think about you everywhere.” 

This was crazy. It was certifiably insane. A voice in the back of your head—Natasha’s voice, it sounded like—was screaming at you to stop and think about the situation at hand. He was drunk, you were even more drunk, and he was far too close to you. He had ushered you in here with good intentions and had sobered you up a fraction, but things had taken a turn and this was a sensitive situation. The kind of sensitive that altered your reality and his and probably a bunch of other people’s you’d never met. 

Or it could be nothing and you were over exaggerating. 

But then Bucky’s hand was warming your thigh. You’d felt the press of it on your back and your shoulder and your head before, but it had never been on your thigh. It felt heavy there, hot. His other hand moved to touch your face and he propped himself up on one knee. His thumb brushed your cheek. Words tumbled from your mouth before you registered that you were speaking. 

“Are you going to kiss me?” 

Why would you ask that? Who asks Bucky Barnes if he’s going to kiss them? 

“Would you let me?” he responds. 

“Yes.” 

He didn’t waste any time, his mouth hot against yours. He tasted like mint and vodka and his lips moved so slowly it ached. You had expected a fervor behind his lips, but instead you got a build up, an orchestra reaching its crescendo. He was kissing you like you were important, like this wasn’t some random hookup in his bedroom at 1 o’clock in the morning, and you had to catch your breath when he parted from you. 

But he moved back in so quickly after your brief respite, and you were eager to give him more. This was crazy, insane. This was the best kiss you’d ever have and also the worst. This was months of staring at his stupid lips when he tried explaining concepts back to you, but this was also weeks of feeling small in his presence. Bucky slid his hand back to press against your hair and you didn’t feel small anymore. 

A loud thud from the hallway interrupted the silence you’d created, and Bucky pulled back, keeping his hands on you as he craned his neck around to stare at the door. He waited a beat, and then two, and then he turned back to you. The moment was gone, but he was still touching you. You weren’t sure what you wanted—if you wanted him to kiss you again or run out the door—but when he slid his hands from your body and rubbed them down his jeans, it became clear that was not what you wanted. 

A knot formed in your stomach when he met your gaze again, and you tried blinking the feeling away. It didn’t work. 

“Um,” Bucky began, his voice sounding more clear, his tone not holding the weight it had.

Your plan had backfired. Severely. This was a mess and you needed to save yourself before you ended this night even more humiliated.

You were still drunk. Pretend you were still plastered. 

You giggled airily, the sound burning your throat. “That was loud.” 

Bucky blinked at you in what you assumed was disbelief. “Probably just someone trying to find the bathroom,” he clarified.

You shrugged, nudging him back with your knee as you stood from the chair. “I’m bored now.” You took fast steps to the door, your words foreign to you. “Thanks for the water,” you all but gritted out. 

You expected him to get up. Not to run after you or proclaim his love or even say anything. But you expected him to get up. 

He didn’t, and you couldn’t understand how the knot in your stomach had moved to your throat. Or how it made tears spring to your eyes when your feet hit the sidewalk outside. Your Uber came and you couldn’t understand how you felt hot and cold at the same time. How it was freezing outside but you were sweating. 

You couldn’t understand why you were crying over a boy that so often infuriated you, or why he kissed you in his bedroom. The reasonable side of you sent gentle reminders that he was in a frat and kissing people is just what he did. All the time. But the unreasonable side of you won out tonight, and it was telling you that this felt different.

That you should be different, somehow.

~~

Bucky: You’re here???

Bucky: Where are you?

Bucky: Y/n answer your damn phone

Bucky: This place is fucking packed tonight I thought you weren’t coming 

You stared at the text messages you hadn’t read last night, the bright light of your phone burning into your retinas. You had a brutal hangover, and the memory of the disaster in Bucky’s room felt like an even bigger one. 

You’d gone through a myriad of emotions the night before, tossing around excuses and speeches in your head until you were so exhausted you let the alcohol in your system lull you to sleep. With all of that delirious thinking, you’d landed on blacking out. You were going to tell Bucky you blacked out last night and couldn’t remember a thing. He obviously wouldn’t care and would probably appreciate it. 

Saturday was slow-moving. Reruns of television shows and bags of popcorn and overthinking. Natasha was at her parent’s house in the city, so you had no one to bounce your racing thoughts off of. You certainly weren’t going to text her about it. 

When the evening finally rolled around and your attempts at distracting yourself with mind-numbing movies failed, you checked your email. You always tried not to on the weekends, but doing anything else sounded much less appealing. 

Unfortunately, you didn’t get past the first one. 

From: University Peer Assistance Program 

Dear Y/n Y/l/n, 

This is an automated message from the campus peer assistance program. We thank you for your continued devotion to the betterment of students at this school. At this time, your tutoring placement with James Barnes has ended. We will search for a new placement to fill your current hours. 

Thank you, 

University Peer Assistance 

You blinked at the email, then blinked again. The breath left your chest and the muscles on your face twitched, but you were otherwise frozen.

This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? To be free from the haughty frat boy that didn’t even listen to you when you tried to help him raise his grades. You wanted someone nice, someone that had the same goals as you and appreciated the color-coded notes you took for them. Bucky only tried to get a rise out of you. He sat too close and made fun of you and put you on lists you didn’t ask to be on. 

But he had kissed you. He had kissed you and then tutor-dumped you. 

You knew you weren’t his type, but were you really that bad? Was the kiss so terrible? 

Every inferiority complex you had developed exploded. You over-analyzed things that had already happened, things you had said. Not just at the party, but in the library, the coffee shops, the lecture halls. 

Was he really willing to risk his position in the frat just to avoid you? 

The strangle tickle of tears itched to be released from your eyes again, but you pressed it down. No, this wasn’t on you. He had kissed you. He had dragged you into his room and stumbled on pretty words. If he didn’t want you to tutor him anymore because of his stupid mistake, fine. 

His mistake. 

That word felt wrong. 

You tossed your phone on the couch with vigor. The clock above the television read out 10 pm, but that meant little to you as you slid on your shoes at the front door. You were wearing sweatpants and a jacket that was far too big on you, sadness and frustration and raw confusion propelling you down your apartment stairs. 

Ice cream would fix this. 

The only place open at this time was the gas station at the edge of campus. It wasn’t university affiliated and was usually overrun with belligerent greek life trying to buy alcohol, but the decision-making part of your brain was currently shut off. 

Ice cream, anger, probably watching tiktoks until your eyes were too heavy to keep open—those were the only things rattling in your head. 

You yanked open the gas station door after your short walk, the glass smudged and fogged from the cold night. The fluorescent lights aggravated the headache you’d been sporting all day and the floor made sticking noises with each step you took. To add insult to injury, there were only three cartons of ice cream left, and they weren’t even the good flavors. Grabbing the least offensive one, you made your way to the small line of people by the register. 

“Nice outfit.” 

Too enthralled by the disappointing ingredient list on the side of your ice cream, you had missed the tall man now looming at your shoulder. You whipped your head around with a start, taking a step back, smelling menthol and asphalt and nothing good. 

“Thanks,” you quietly replied. 

He waited until you turned back around to continue. “You go to school over here?” 

You kept your gaze forward. “Um, yeah.” 

“Nice. I graduated a few years back. Marketing.” 

“Cool,” you replied. What had compelled you to leave your phone on the couch? This night sucked. 

You found reprieve in the line moving, the employee calling you over to check out. As soon as you paid—a few dollar bills funneled out of your pocket with shaky hands—you booked it. Your ice cream burned in your palm but you didn’t care, feet carrying you out the door and into the dimly lit parking lot. You fisted your keys in your fingers; pointless, you knew, but a small comfort. 

The man’s voice returned with the chime of the bell over the gas station door. “Wait! Wait, I’m Beck. I own a business nearby.” 

You should have kept walking, but one of your fatal flaws was, apparently, people pleasing. You turned to him. He smiled at you but it made your stomach twist. 

“Oh, nice,” you responded, rocking back on your heels. 

“We should connect. Maybe go for coffee or something?” He took a step forward. You fought the urge to take one back. His beard was unkempt and he held a six pack in his white-knuckled grip. 

“Um, I don’t know. I’m pretty busy with finals coming up. Plus, I’m not really in the business field.” 

“Not for business then,” he smiled again, teeth dull in the streetlight. 

Just agree. If you agreed you could block him soon after and everything would be fine. 

You took too long to answer. He took the final step forward to arrive in your space and wrapped his fingers around your bicep. “C’mon, I’m not asking you to marry me or anything.” 

Frozen by fear, you let out a weak laugh. The pint in your hand was sticking to your skin now in a way that would be painful when you tried to let go of it later. Your breath rattled in your chest when you laughed again. 

“Sure, okay.” But he didn’t let go of your arm, instead sliding it down to the bone of your wrist. 

“What about now?” he posed. “You don’t look too busy. I can make you something at my place.” 

He was at least ten years older than you. You attempted to pull yourself from his grasp to no avail. Maybe reasoning would work. 

“My roommate's waiting for me,” you lied. “Could you let go? I sprained my wrist at the gym last week,” you lied again. 

He refused with a shake of his head. You took a panicked glance inside the gas station to your right. No one was looking. 

“Please let go of me.” 

The call of your name from the other side of the parking lot initially sent more unbearable fear down your spine. But then the owner of that voice registered in your brain, and although it had been the cause of your recent internal strife, you couldn't be more grateful to hear it. 

He said your name again, closer now and questioning. Bucky jogged up to the pair of you, saw your wrist and the man holding it hostage, and looked back up at you with confused, wild eyes. 

“You know this guy?” he asked, jutting his thumb out at Beck.

“No,” you whispered. The word was short but the syllable still trembled. 

Bucky didn’t look confused anymore. He looked pissed. “Wanna take your fucking hands off her?”

Beck was tall, but Bucky was taller. And angry. Beck released your wrist and raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Whoa, man, no need for the theatrics. I’m guessing you’re here to stock up for a party? I used to be in Sigma Nu.” 

When Bucky’s silent glare failed to dampen, Beck continued with, “We were just planning a night at my place, right?” 

His nod in your direction made your breath catch. Bucky took his piercing gaze off of Beck and softened it as it fell on you. You wanted to respond, but words were gone. They were impossible. Your ice cream was melting. 

“Yeah, I think we’re done here,” Bucky scoffed, placing his arm around your shoulder. He guided you past the wall of a man, making sure to drive his shoulder into his chest as he went. Beck went to say more, to protest or whine, but Bucky shot him such a scathing look it almost made you wither. 

The smell of coconut and spices and a hint of whisky met your nose, and it was familiar. It was safe. You fumbled with the keys in your hands as your feet guided you wherever Bucky was going, and then you fumbled even more, soft jingling disrupting the softness of footfall. God, why wouldn’t you stop shaking? 

A hand fell atop yours, crunching the keys to a halt. You stared down at them, unsteady breath hitting the tanned fingers that served as your current anchor. 

“Look at me, y/n.” 

You couldn’t. You couldn’t do anything. 

“Sweetheart, eyes up. All you gotta do.” Bucky’s voice was as soft as it was last night. That was the only reason you were able to follow his request. “There she is,” he hummed. 

He removed his arm from your shoulders and shifted in front of you, placing his hand on your cheek. You ignored that it felt the same as it had last night. You ignored that you wanted it to feel the same for him, too. 

“You okay?” he asked, tilting his neck down to better see your face. His thumb brushed under your eye. “He hurt you?” 

You shook your head, whispering no, whispering that you were fine. 

Bucky nodded to himself, eyes tracking down to your toes and then back up again. He must have mistaken your shaking for coldness because the next thing he did was guide you into the car behind him. You didn’t know it was his.

He blasted the heat the second he got in. He had shuffled you into your seat with his hands before that, smoothed your hair down and closed the door after you were settled and not shaking as hard. The heat dried out your eyes. It distracted you enough to let words form. 

“Thank you,” you said. “He wouldn’t leave me alone. I didn’t bring my phone with me. I should’ve.” 

“Of course.” 

There was a beat of silence. The relief you had felt earlier had been muddled down to an awkward pit in your stomach, and you weren’t sure if Bucky felt it too or if he was still riding a testosterone-fueled adrenaline high. 

You wanted to go home now; this was uncomfortable and you had felt Bucky’s lips on yours less than twenty-four hours ago with no closure. He obviously didn’t want to be around you. This was probably a responsibility thing for him. 

“I can… I can walk home now. The guy left. I’m just a quarter mile away and you probably have to stock up or whatever.” 

He looked at you with a pinched expression. “I’m not letting you walk home after that. You kiddin’ me?” 

“I’ll be fine, really. I walk over here all the time.” 

“You get harassed all the time too?” 

“No…” 

“Exactly. So you’re not walking home.” 

“Bucky—” 

“Look I’m not gonna kiss you again, alright? So you don’t have to turn down a ride because of that.” 

Your ice cream was soup at this point. You let it roll into your lap as you clamped your mouth shut just to open it again. Bucky ran a rough hand through his hair before dropping it on the steering wheel, clutching at it with no place to go. 

“I’m not following,” you finally relented. 

A loud sigh released from his nose. “You don’t have to worry about me kissing you again. I just want to make sure you get home safe and then I’ll leave you alone.” 

“Worry about—you’re the one trying to avoid me,” you snapped, frozen fingers pointing to your chest. “You tutor-dumped me.”

“Tutor-dumped? How do you…” he trailed off. 

“I get an email when you make a change request, Bucky.” 

He stared at you for a moment, lips parted and unmoving. He clenched his jaw a moment later, a red tint adorning his cheeks. 

“Well, you—you—look, I know you don’t like me, y/n. You’ve made that clear,” he stuttered, words getting louder as he moved his hands around with each one. “But I like you. I like when you get mad at me and when you yell at me for not listening and when you get all embarrassed when I play with your hair. And I’ve been trying to get you to come to one of my parties since we started this whole thing, but every time I talk about them you seem to like me even less. 

“If I had known insulting you would get your attention, I woulda done that week one,” he exasperated. You sat up in your seat but he continued. “I didn’t mean any of that shit you thought I did. You’re not boring. And I didn’t mean to kiss you, but you looked—well, I already told you.” 

“So you don’t want me to be your tutor anymore because you like me?” You spoke slowly, each word careful. 

“No,” he sighed, frustrated. “I can’t be around you because I kissed you and you didn’t care. Because I’ll want to kiss you all the time and you didn’t even wanna kiss me once. I know we were drunk, I get that, but I’ve wanted that for a long time and I need to move on. It’s nothing against your… tutoring skills. If that’s what you’re worried about” 

“But you talk about hooking up with other girls all the time, Bucky. To me.” 

“You ever hear of lying?”

“Why would you—” 

“You really gonna make me live out all of my failures with you?” 

You’d read so many things wrong. Taken so many things the wrong way. You figured the email earlier was the final nail in the coffin, but this was something else entirely. This was Bucky, sitting next to you in his car looking distressed and frazzled with his hair six different directions, telling you that he’s been trying to get your attention since he met you. That you weren’t small or insignificant or boring. 

It was probably a terrible idea to follow through with your next thought. You’d probably get hurt in the long run. But you did it anyway. 

“I wanted you to kiss me.” Bucky’s head whipped towards you. You bit the inside of your cheek and said, “I want you to kiss me all the time.” 

He whispered your name. It sounded like the air had left every corner of his body. But he didn’t move, and you needed to rectify that. 

“You’re infuriating,” you began. Bucky cringed, but you needed to explain as he had. “You’re like the antithesis of everything I want out of college. You don’t care about classes. You’re always late. You talk too loud in the library.” 

You took a deep breath, fiddling with the loose thread of your pants. You couldn’t make eye contact with anything but the ground. 

“But then you know my coffee order when I’ve never told it to you. You save me from losers in parking lots and make sure I’m not drunk out of my mind at your obscene party. You make me feel… you make me feel stupid sometimes. And I thought it was because you’re everything I’m not, but I really think it’s because you’re everything I told myself I should stay away from. But I don’t want to.

“I wanted you to kiss me at that party and I want you to kiss me now.” 

“Then get over here. I’m not kissing you over some bullshit center console.” 

You twisted to follow his directions, gasping as his hands clasped around your waist to tug you into his lap. It wasn’t seamless—there was laughing and your head briefly connected with the roof of the car—but Bucky’s touch was everywhere, soothing the uncertainty and fear and slight headache. 

His forehead connected with yours when you felt secure in his arms. His fingers slid down from your waist over the material of your sweatpants and when he spoke next you felt the words on your own lips.

“You’re wearing sweatpants. You get so mad when I wear sweatpants.” 

You laughed. “I get mad because it usually means you just rolled out of bed, and you’re usually. late.” 

“I got a secret,” he whispered, nudging his nose against yours. “I’m never late. And I only wear those sweatpants around you. You get cute when you’re pissed at me.” 

“Well, I’m about to be really cute—”

He kissed you. You’d have plenty of time to argue later.

[jj-one]

STRAY KIDS + POSSESSIVENESS ! 🩹 ⋅˚₊ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

this is smut, do not interact if under 18

pairing: dom!skz x sub!fem!reader, established relationship, husband!changbin bc why not ? genre/tags: smut, angst, fluff (tbh it's only changbin's part), jealousy, exhibitionism, voyeurism, lots of degradation, mentions of crying, marking, manhandling, bondage play, piv, unprotected s*x (do not try this at home kids), public s*x, rough s*x, fingering, nipple play, oral (f & m receiving), t*tty slapping, multiple orgasms, edging, choking, bulge kink, slight breeding kink… am not mentally ok for writing any of this words: 3.4k

**old repost from my deleted blog

BANG CHAN. His patience was a level of no other. The man just watched you flirt with his friend and didn’t mutter a single word. All the while you kept boasting about how good Changbin’s muscles looked and the movement of his biceps were leaving you in complete amusement.

Pissed off doesn’t begin to describe what he’s feeling right now. He clears his throat,

“Are we done y/n? I think it’s time we head home now.”

The tone of his voice was cold, icy like a winter storm.

The lump in your throat was stuck. You knew how much in deep shit you were for this and his silence was the main indicator.

You could feel his piercing eyes on you the whole time.

+

It wasn’t long before you’d end up in this position. Both arms were locked above your head by his strong hands. The tight grip he kept around your wrists was definitely going to leave some bruising.

“You’re such a dumb slut. Did all this just to get me like this huh?” His cock hitting your walls aggressively as you spasm and shake under him.

“All this to get me to fuck you the like the dumb little cockwhore you are?” He growled, “can Changbin fuck you like this?”

His pace was relentless. His cock stretching you open with each deep thrust. His harsh words cutting into you like a dagger. Your mind was blank, head full of Chan’s cock. You had to answer him though, or else he will stop.

“N-no Chan only y-yours… only you can fuck me like this!”

A smirk creeps up his face from your quavering voice. He leans forward, his lips brush over yours as if almost to kiss you but doesn’t.

“I own you y/n. Only I get to have to you, understood?”

All you feel is his cock slamming into you. The slapping sounds becoming a melody of a beat, your heart was racing a mile a minute.

“Understood.”

LEE KNOW. He hates when you act out in public. The way you tease him and get him riled up, knowing he can’t do anything about it. It gave you sense of power, you had the upper hand— for now.

You were wearing the shortest mini skirt possible, it barely covered your bum and you could feel a cool breeze slip through your crevices. You kept walking in front of him, swaying your little hips side to side, letting him watch you bend down to pick things up as he sneaks a peak under your skirt. The sight of the pink lace thong you wore was enough to make him grab you by the arm and yank you into a public restroom nearby.

Before you know it, you’re being devoured by your boyfriend. Sitting on the counter of the sink whilst he was below you, giving you a gaze that could snatch your soul. His digits sunk into your dripping cunt as he swipes his tongue across your slit. Your skirt was still on but pushed up slightly, your thong was also moved to the side.

“I can’t believe you’d go out like this and expect me not to control myself.” He rises up momentarily.

“You do this on purpose, knowing I don’t want other people looking at you.”

He laps up your juices and coats it with his face, scissoring you open with his fingers.

“Fuck… I wore this for you Minho— w-wanted to look pretty for you.” Your eyes were tightly shut, feeling the euphoria as you were close to your orgasm.

He abruptly pulled his fingers out of you, thrusting your hips in the air now, you whine for stimulation.

“Will you be a good girlfriend for me and cum on my tongue kitten? I want you to scream as loud for me as you can, I don’t care who hears it.” Minho was dead serious. He doesn’t care you both are in a public restroom and there’s people casually walking by. He wants everyone to know you are his.

You nod and agree to be on your best behavior for him. You know he will most likely reward you for this in the end.

“I promise, I’ll be a good girl Minho.”

Feeling your body heat surge as he inched closer to your core, pressing his tongue at your entrance. He tongue fucks you viciously while never breaking his eye contact with you.

Feeling yourself come undone from the surreal pleasure, all you want is to feel your release.

You thrash and moan as you cream on Minho’s tongue, your legs felt like jello when you climax. You let out multiple gasps for air, feeling as though you just ran a marathon.

Minho hasn’t left between your legs yet, his face still in a headlock. He wasn’t quite finished with you just yet.

“You can give me one more, right kitten?”

CHANGBIN. Being a newlywed couple felt like a fairytale dream come true. He felt incredibly lucky to have you as his wife and doesn’t stop reminding you how happy he is. He’d shower you with a beacon of compliments that would melt your heart each and every time.

You went on another vacation right after the honeymoon and it felt like paradise. That was up until a small incident occurred, it happened when you were at the pool with your husband. One of the pool goers at the resort couldn’t keep their eyes off you. You wore a sexy one piece that had cut-out details on the sides to show off your waist but you wore a sheer cover up over it.

Changbin noticed straight away the eyes that were glued to you, the eyes that were glued to his precious wife. He was livid. Almost causing a scene, he went up to the perverted man that was eye fucking you and gave him a piece of his mind. In utter disbelief of what was unfolding in front of you, you go up to Changbin to calm him down and get him to stop before he ends up actually doing something he’ll regret. His face burned crimson from anger but the sound of your voice brought him back to reality.

+

Things were much better in private now. Much better. Sitting on your husband’s lap in the jacuzzi bathtub felt so relaxing, his hands roamed your naked body as he placed chaste kisses all over you. He stopped at your neck to give it more attention, nibbling on a sensitive spot that made you sink right into his form. Moaning softly whilst his hands prance down to your back.

“I want to shield the rest of the world from you, only I get to gawk at my gorgeous wife.” Changbin says possessively, looking at you once he comes up from your neck.

You nod in agreement, “they can look but can’t touch!”

“No, they can’t even look, all of this is mine, mine, mine.” He plants a kiss to your cheek as his hand creeps down to your core. He prods your hole with a single digit, entering you with ease. You let out a soft moan as you part your lips slightly, bucking your hips forward. He pumps his finger into your wetness as he looks deeply into your eyes, nothing but burning desire in his pupils. He brings his thumb to your clit and rubs it in a steady motion, your swollen nub feeling overstimulated from his touch.

“This is just the beginning my love, I’m not done with you until the sun comes up.” He whispered in your ear as he drags his tongue against your earlobe. In just the jacuzzi alone, he’s made you cum several times from his fingers. Oh how those magical fingers always do wonders on you..

HYUNJIN. The room was pitch black, your vision completely impaired from the blindfold attached to your head. Your hands were bound to each other, behind your back being tied by a thick rope. You had nowhere to go and the room was pure silence, naked and touch starved, you whine for Hyunjin to do something but you were met with no answer. He was standing over you on the bed but you were unaware of any of your surroundings.

The man finally spoke, “This is what happens when you try and make daddy jealous.”

You can feel his hot breath on your neck, the sensation making you crave him even more.

Hyunjin was always the possessive type, was constantly in need of reassurance if he felt his ego was being bruised. This was situation was no different, he needed to remind you that he was the one who owned you.

He brought finger to your perked nipple, gently dragging it across to tease you a bit. A white-hot charge sent through your body as you finally felt his touch. Dripping in a puddle of your own slick from the dirty thoughts racing in your mind, he continues lightly tracing your hardened nipples; eliciting low moans from you.

Your senses were heightened from the way you weren’t able to see anything, any little touch from him making you squeal from shock.

“You like this don’t you?” He says in a condescending tone, he belittles you some more. “So pathetic, look at you. Can’t do anything but take it, so fucking helpless.”

Hyunjin loved seeing how weak you become under him, the power dynamic being completely imbalanced right now. All you could do was moan out for him, practically begging him to do more but you know he’s going to take his time with you.

“Gonna make you squirt all over this bed for me.” He says, “Won’t stop until I have you screaming and begging for mercy, which I will never give you.”

The smirk on his face was devilish, he was conjuring up the perfect plan to ruin you indefinitely.

“Hyunjin, please fuck me… please.” You push your thighs together to feel some friction but Hyunjin gets mad at this action instantly.

He brings a harsh slap to your left tit, making you jump up a bit but your body couldn’t move properly from being tied up. Your legs went back to it’s original position, spread open for him so he can get a glimpse of your dripping cunt.

“Don’t ever tell me what to do, I make the rules now.” He palms your breast and kneads it excessively.

“You are my property.”

HAN. If jealousy was a disease Han would be the first one to catch it. He really loves yet hates the fact that he has such a smoking hot girlfriend that everyone wants. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy dating you but the way some of these other guys would look at you was about to become his villain origin story.

You were so oblivious to anyone who attempted to flirt with you, you only had eyes for your man but it was hard to convince Han otherwise. The pizza delivery guy complimented how pretty you looked and when you handed him the money to pay for the food, you accidentally gave him a ten dollar bill instead of a twenty, he didn’t even care he just smiled and continued talking to you.

That’s when Han knew he had to butt in, he was listening from the couch and he knew he shouldn’t have let you be the one to answer the door. Quickly he comes up to you to wrap his arms behind you, keeping you in a tight hold as the pizza guy looks mortified now.

“You can leave now,” Han says to him in a harsh tone, “We have important business to take care of!”

Slamming the door in his face now, Han comes up from behind you to take the pizza box out of your hands to place it on the table. Soon after, a heavy make out session between you would ensue.

+

As your naked bodies entangled one another, you feel yourself cinching around his cock from each inch as he slides it in. Your breath instantly coming to a halt as the end of his cock crashed into your cervix. He moves with his ass up in the air as he buries his length deep inside you, the squelching sound of your wet pussy making him see stars.

“Fuck… so fucking tight for me.” Han says sounding pussydrunk off the way you feel around him.

You fall into a frenzy as he pumps his length into you harder, pounding into you like no tomorrow. The bulge of his cock could be seen inside you, moving in and out of you intensely. Grinding your hips to match his pace, you rub your clit to feel more stimulation.

“You’re so fucking hot my God…” He cooed, tiny beads of sweat now forming on the sides of his face. “Your pussy was made for me and me only…”

“Only I can make you feel this good.”

FELIX. He felt sick to his stomach whenever he saw someone else looking at you. The way people would look at you in public when he was with you made him feel beyond disrespected. This is exactly why he doesn’t bring you anywhere because his fragile little ego will be crushed as soon as another person laid their eyes on you. He couldn’t deal with it anymore, he just had to do something about it.

You were at a public park but the park was so big that it was easy to hide and go unseen behind some bushes.

Felix brought you to a secluded area and told you get on your back, you do as he says and he looks at you with the most evil grin on his face.

“I’m going to fuck you so dumb right here, right now.” Felix says in a raspy deep voice, “I will let everyone exactly know who’s bitch you are.”

You gulp once you feel his hands all over you, you wore a black slip dress which drove him absolutely mad.

“Gonna make you pay for getting me worked up like this.” You felt so small when he spoke like this to you, the sticky mess in your panties was only growing as you feel his hands go up your thigh.

“Too stunned to speak sweetheart?” He asks, giving you an alluring yet mischievous smile. You have no idea what this man has for you in store.

“N-no, I can speak-“

“Shut up.” He quickly cuts you off from saying more. “I’m the one talking right now, you sit back and take what I’m going to give you.”

You did exactly as you were told and lay back for him. He quickly unzips his pants and frees his cock from his boxers. You look at the red tip of his angry cock, the sight of his raging erection was enough to make you feel a tingling sensation in your heat. His cock would plunge into you nice and slow but once he bottoms out he’ll quickly pick up his pace, fucking into you menacingly. He brought a hand to your neck and squeezed the shaft of it tightly, you gasp for air as he choked you but it wasn’t unbearable. You close your eyes to the feeling, letting yourself be fully immersed into him. Each thrust he gave you felt like bliss as he roughly held onto your hip, fucking you like a complete maniac.

“Gonna dump all my cum into your slutty little body,” Felix continued,“you’re my fuck toy, only I get to use you.”

SEUNGMIN. Usually something like this would never get to him. However, today was different, very different. Seungmin almost went ballistic when he found out that some guy asked for your number while you were out shopping at the supermarket. He often goes everywhere with you but you were getting off work and went straight to the store to grab some things for dinner. That’s when it happened and you told Seungmin as soon as you got home. You thought he’d just laugh it off but he frowned, disproving of that guy’s actions.

“What a loser,” Seungmin says in an annoyed tone, “when they will learn to just leave you the hell alone?”

He wanted you all to himself, if he could lock you up forever and throw away the key, he probably would. Only letting you out when he tells you you can.

“They can try all they want Minnie but I know I belong to you at the end of the day.” You bring your arms around his neck and lean in to kiss him and he kisses you back passionately.

+

“Want you to say it for me again, who’s pussy does this belong to?” Seungmin was now relentlessly pumping two fingers in you.

“Y-yours Seungmin… yours!” You could barely get a coherent word out of your mouth.

“And who makes you feel the best?”

He wasn’t letting up on making sure you know that you fully belonged to him. “We can do this all day princess… I’m not going to stop until I’m satisfied.”

This was his fifth time edging you at this point, leaving you on the verge of an orgasm but would pull his fingers out once he notices your chest floating up. He’s being so evil to you right now, as if you it was your fault for what had happened in the supermarket.

“You, only y-you! You’re the best at making me feel so good!” You babble as he rapidly moves his fingers in and out of your gaping hole.

“That’s my good little girl, now keep taking my fingers and I’ll reward you soon okay?”

JEONGIN. “You’re such a filthy slut, you know that?” The motion of needy hips were bucking into you. Your head was kept in place, completely still, on your knees and on the verge of tears from your boyfriend’s words.

You knew why you were in this predicament right now. This was all your fault and you did it all for this exact reason.

You wanted to see Jeongin’s reaction to saying you think Felix was hot. You know he wouldn’t take that comment lightly since that was one of his best friends. You wanted to see how far you could test his limits.

“You wanna fuck my friends huh?” He grabs you by the hair and furrows his eyebrows to regain more focus onto you.

You couldn’t speak, all you could do was shake your head around him as he shoved his cock further down your throat.

“Can’t even talk with your mouth full of cock, what a dumb little whore you are.”

His cock hitting the back of your uvula, causing you to make a gagging noise. Streaks of saliva creep from the sides your mouth, the messy scenery underneath him was a heavenly sight indeed. You moan while sucking his cock, the vibrations making the hairs on the back of his neck rise up. He throws his head back and keeps a tight hold on your hair, gripping you with everything he had. He thrusts his hard length into you viciously, the gurgling noises you were making whilst he fucks your face sounds harmonic to him.

“Shit…think I’m gonna cum soon” he muttered, letting out a groan as he kept pushing your face into his cock. “Yeah… just like that fuck… that’s it.”

A stream of tears came running down your face as you continued. You can feel his veiny cock twitch against your tongue as you felt hot spurts of cum fill you up now. You swallow each and every drop and milk him clean like the good girl you were. Opening your mouth wide to show it was empty he grins viciously and taps his dick against your tongue.

“You’re the biggest fucking slut…” He pants heavily.

“My biggest slut.”

[madamechrissy]

Silent Serenades

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

♔ Pairings: Duke Satoru Gojo x Duchess Reader

♔ Content/Warnings: TW: Past Self harm references, past eating disorder references- angsty asf always, Explicit sexual content, cunnilingus, fingering, dirty talk, name calling, hate/love sex!? lots of tension, and ofc a breed kink bc it's ME lol

♔ Word count: this chap: 13k (longest chap so far!)

♔ Summary: you are the diamond of the season, he is the charming Duke, it’s the marriage of the decade. Prominent families joining, and it so happens that Duke Gojo is gorgeous. But, he doesn't want you at all, leaving you a crying mess on your wedding night, alone. Now you're trapped in a loveless arranged marriage that destroys you from within. Royal AU, Cruel Duke Gojo x reader. OOC Set in 1800s England. Gojo is awful in this. You'll hate Satoru, warning you now. HEAVY angst Basically- Gojo is a royal dick and doesn't wanna marry you

Split POV- Duchess and Duke Gojo- Comments and Reblogs appreciated <3

Part Ten ♔ Masterlist ♔ Playlist

Part Eleven

Gojo’s POV

The last ball you had been to with Duke Gojo was completely different from this one, even only being a couple weeks ago. The last one you were enemies, you had been with Nanami and he had been with Lady Elaine. He had danced once with you, just for show, and had later watched you on that man’s lap, hating the man so much he almost lost all composure.

He had begged to just taste you that night, he wonders why you even let him, you know how horrible he was, but even then, something pulled you both to each other, like never ending magnets. Even then he’d tried so hard to fight it, the desire for you, the feelings building, this inexplicable need to constantly be near you, to your very detriment.

Now, Duke Gojo is walking into this ballroom with your little hand in his, you all certainly aren’t enemies now, fuck Satoru is falling in love deeper with your every breath in fact. He knows you’re terrified, so he does not want to push to know your feelings but he knows they are there, how else could you even care for a man like him, a man who has wronged you so many times.

This morning he had watched you sleep, when he’d woken up cradling your delicate body in his strong arms. You looked so real, not just this figurative angel he came to check on at night, your hair was messy, you were snoring just slightly, he had smiled at how precious you were. When the sun’s rays had hit the windows of your bedchamber, you’d blinked up and looked at him.

His heart had faltered. He was terrified, would you be upset, scared to be next to him? Would you tell him to leave, realize your folly, your mistake of ever letting Satoru close, letting him fuck you, hold you. And fuck if you weren’t the most exquisite creature he’d seen in the morning, if you weren’t the best thing he’d ever felt, your body seemed made for him, you seemed made for him.

You had just smiled softly, caressing his face, and you’d given him a little kiss, before backing away shyly. Satoru had of course responded with a passionate kiss, already hard from being pressed against you all night. But you all had been interrupted for there was much to do before the ball, otherwise he would have devoured you, every bit of you.

The bliss of waking up with you made him realize that last night was not just some dream, in fact it was so much better than any dream. On the carriage ride instead of arguing or being silent, both of you had spoken of the village, you had learned more of each other, even though at times he saw you stop yourself from being so enthusiastic, controlled yourself, held yourself in a bit.

He sees it written all over your pretty face, you’re still terrified of opening your heart, and who could blame you? Satoru himself could not forgive his transgressions towards you, despite the fact that you seem to be willing to give him a chance. You squeeze his hand a bit, scanning the crowd as you all stand on the top of the winding steps, to descend into the ballroom.

“What is it, Princess? Nervous?” He murmurs, you take a breath, looking up at him under your lashes.

“A little. Is this the first event we’ll have where you don’t hate me?” You tease, he smirks then.

“Yes, but you still hate me.” He says the words lightly, but he hopes that they’re not true, against all sense. He hopes you feel more than hatred, though Satoru would take your hatred over anyone else’s love.

“A little.” You whisper, as he leans down now, putting your hand on his inner elbow now. “Much less than the last one.”

“I’ll take it as a win.” Satoru earns your little breathy laugh, fuck if everything you do doesn’t affect him in every way. “You look so stunning, everyone will be after you soon, you know.”

You blush now, looking down shyly as you both descend the staircase, your heels and his hessian boots clicking along the marble steps. You’re donned in a glittering white gown, so stunning it had taken his breath away when you’d first walked out of your room earlier. You were for once not wearing those ridiculous corsets your mother put you in your entire life, a bit out of fashion if anything.

Your waist was small enough, and he relishes in the fact you can breathe, and eat without being in such discomfort. Your dress has an empire waist, lacy roses along the bodice, cut to show much of your tantalizing breasts, not the older style fashion you usually had, though you looked beautiful in those as well. Satoru wants you to be your own person, not just your mother’s shadow.

He still does not know how deep what your mother has done to you goes, but he’s wary of seeing her after the dinner, where she’d been so hurtful, and where he’d realized what he’d caused, more pain for you. He never wants you to feel pain again, especially if he can help it, you’re owed at least that much for everything you have endured.

“Thank you, Satoru, you look dashing as well.” You murmur, leaning up to whisper in his ear as he bends down, Satoru smirks despite his heart racing at your compliment.

“Of course I do.” You roll your eyes now, giggling just a bit, a sound that has frequently been making his heart swell with so much affection it could burst. You’re turning him pathetic, he should be more scared of - Ending up like he did with Adelia- But he’s trying to stay open, to stop closing up, even if it destroys him in the end.

“I should not save you any dances, rakish man.” You tease, pretty lips quirking up just so as you do.

“Ah, cruel Duchess. You’ll dance with Suguru?” You roll your eyes.

“Maybe I shall.”

“Keep your lips to yourself.”

“I should say the same!” It’s too easy with you, the way you all ebb and flow, it feels far too good, and Satoru realizes it could have been this way from the beginning, even during your courtship, if he’d just opened up. The thoughts of time wasted and pain he’s brought consume him. “Satoru I was kidding.”

You snap him out of it then, looking at him with concern drawing your brows together. He gently touches the spot between them that is furrowed, as many onlookers start to speak of you both, hushed whispers and pointed fingers. The Duke and Duchess entered this elegant ballroom, where everyone was already mingling and dancing, of course it was a spectacle.

You stand out, of course you do, when haven’t you? You lit up everything even long, long before he would admit it. Of course Duke Gojo knows he does as well, but people truly adored you, for much more than your pretty exterior. Even now you are smiling at everyone who greets you all as you walk through the throngs of people, onto the chalk designed floor beneath you both.

“Shall I have your first dance?” Satoru murmurs to you softly, and you nod, biting your lower lip nervously. He gently releases it from your teeth’s grasp, seeing the little indentations, seeing your eyes dilate at his touch.

Fuck he’d love to be inside you again, feel you cumming on his cock. As elegant and ladylike as you present, he knows you’ve swallowed his cum and his spit last night, knows you had ridden his cock and cum all over the length of it. He knows you liked your ass smacked, liked your hair pulled, liked being choked, this elegant pretty Princess of his.

Even now he’s thinking of it, of sliding his cock between your perfect lips, of feeling your tongue dipping into the hole on his tip, greedily tasting his precum. Thinks of picking you up and fucking you on every single surface there is. Three times is not enough even in an evening for him with you, he’d love to fuck you from sunlight to sundown, dusk till fucking dawn.

He wants to fuck you until you’re both passing out from your exertions, but still push more and more in your soaking wet cunt. He wants to fill you with his seed so badly, he can’t of course but he dreams of it, of how good it would feel to cum inside you, fill you until you’re dripping out. Drink it right out of your yummy cunt, taste you two together.

He dreams of tying you up to the new bed he had ordered, they should have it together by the time the ball is over, he knows you’re disgusted by it, and why wouldn’t you be? He’d fucked countless women right in that room, with the goddamn door open, knowing you could see, wanting to make it so clear he ‘didn’t want you’ so you wouldn’t ever feel anything.

How, after all that, do you feel anything?

Satoru is desperate to do anything to make you stay, he would let you walk all over him if you wanted, but you’re just not like that. You’re damaged like him, yes, but you go about things differently, instead of being full of resentment, you push through and you try.

“Deep in thought, your Grace?” You ask softly, as the music begins, and people are crowded around you all.

He just nods a bit, taking your waist now, feeling the nip of it under your satin dress, watching your breath catch at the touch, your lips part just so. Your hand comes to grip his, as you both begin to move, his thumb pressing into your ribcage, his other fingers pressing into your back, watching you tremble, nearly having a misstep.

“Something wrong, Duchess?” He smirks as he asks you, you glare now, earning his chuckle.

“Nothing!” His thumb brushes the side of your breast as you both turn and twirl, the eyes of the ton on you.

“Sure it’s not. Not wet from my touch?” He whispers, so close he can taste your sweet breath, you scowl, narrowing your glittering eyes, your other hand clutching his shoulder over his suit jacket.

“Not at all, conceited man.” He just grins at you, spinning you and then dipping you over his arm, contemplating kissing you so that everyone knows how much he desires you, especially so many women Satoru has had a past with. He senses Lady Elaine glaring as he stands you back up. “What’s wrong, Satoru?”

“My first name, scandalous.” You shake your head at him with a little smile, until your eyes find her. “Ignore her. She’s angry I kicked her out that night.”

Your hands clutch tightly to his shoulders as his are on your waist, and you both glide together, effortlessly. “She’s glaring daggers at me.”

“Jealousy.”

“I doubt-”

“It is, because you have me.” He gulps then, sighing. “If you want to, of course… I know you…”

You caress his cheek then, mid movement, he leans into the touch with a sigh. “I want to try.” You say softly, and he sees how nervous you are, he can feel your pulse race as his thumbs brush the delicate veins of your inner wrist. “I’m terrified of how I feel, how easy it was this morning.” Your voice is a whisper.

“I know, I know… I have a surprise for you later.” You light up then, so pretty. “Do you like surprises?”

“I have not had very many, but yes I do. I think?” You’re so beautiful with that blush creeping up your neck.

“You think it’s a tawdry surprise, slutty girl.” He murmurs, earning you stomping on his foot, he huffs, glaring back at you.

“Oops, so clumsy.” You stick your tongue out through your teeth, Satoru snorts then, shaking his head.

“I’ll punish you later.” He says against the shell of your ear, as the song ends and he’s bent low, hand cupping your face.

“Oh will you? You can try.” He feels his body react as he dares to kiss your lips, in front of the entire ton, in front of onlookers and servants alike. He could devour you here, but he keeps it chaste, looking at the desire in your eyes when he backs away. “In front of them all?”

“They should know you’re mine.”

“Yours?”

“Even if you don’t know it yet.” He kisses your lips once more, earning the awws of many, and the look of ire from others, before leaning back and smirking at you. “You blush every-”

“I’ll stomp your other foot, Duke.” You shove him off you then, huffing so cutely, fuck the world melts when you are here, it’s like nothing else exists. Soon, Suguru and Shoko come up to you both, clear shock on their faces as they observe you all, and you straighten up, shyly smiling at them both.

“Did he drug you? Why are you so happy with this ass?” Shoko demands, and Satoru sticks his tongue out, earning your little giggle.

“You let her speak to me this way?” Satoru asks you.

“Oh, I love when she does.”

Suguru and Shoko chuckle, Satoru glares at all three of you. “You little brat, the most insolent-”

“Satoru…” Suguru starts, and Satoru sighs.

“It’s just foreplay, she’s quite… freaky.” Suguru blushes now, looking up at the chandeliers above you all, and you gasp, smacking at his shoulder, luckily no one really noticed as another dance has started.

“Oh! Oh? Oohhh…” Shoko puts it together now, looking at both of you. “Shit, really, him?”

“Shoko, you’re such a bitch.” She stomps on Satoru’s other foot now. “Surrounded by psychotic wenches.”

“What changed suddenly?” Suguru interjects, looking right at you as he speaks, a hand gentle on your arm, so caring. He makes Satoru want to punch him, though he knows he just cares for you, he detests anyone else touching you, even his best friend, a thing that surprises him.

With Adalia she had literally been with countless men, he did not want to know details, all he knew was his obsession with her. He cared little for what she did not around him, whereas the times you had gone to your baker, it had broken him, left him in fucking shambles. Once he sat there at the table for hours and hours, praying you would turn around, think better of it.

But why would you have? Satoru consistently pushed you, and he now understands completely why you did so. Though he wishes so fervently he could have had that special moment of being your first, he knows the man he was then did not deserve it. It did not change the fact that he wanted to kill the man who did it, that he wants you to completely forget him.

He wants to be your only, your last.

You’re surely his.

“I’m giving it some time…”

“A month.”

“No, Satoru… perhaps longer. I do not know yet.” His chest feels so light, like he can finally breathe again. “Time to help him with the villages, and… get to know each other finally. Exclusively.”

“That’s… that’s good news. Surprising news.” Suguru looks at Satoru now curiously, dark eyes narrowing, assessing him up and down. “Is Satoru back, is the shitty whore Duke gone?”

Satoru snorts, rolling his eyes, Shoko crosses her slender arms as she studies him as well. “I’d also like to know. You better treat her right, actually more than that, you should be kissing her feet.” She says.

“Kissing the ground she walks on.” Suguru says, and you’re grinning now, raising a brow expectantly at him.

“I’m frequently on my knees, if that helps.” Satoru says, for it is true, how many times had he sank to his knees for you, to beg for you, god only you could make him this way, and it still terrifies him. It’s a million times more intense than Adalia, it’s as if you’ve wiped her memories out, like that love was nothing.

But what if you still leave!?

Satoru does not know if he can live if you do, if he could live with himself knowing all the pain he caused and not have a chance to fix it, to make you feel loved, wanted, cherished. Those vows he never took seriously, now they’re like little biting wounds, of every single one he broke, has he even now made you feel cherished or loved, or simply… desired?

He wants to show you more, but he also knows it’s overwhelming, fuck he is overwhelming altogether, so he wants to give it time, but he is also consumed by you. Ever since he had you, since he felt you under him, felt your sweetness dripping down his cock, entwined his fingers with your own, he is more hopeless than before, so mad you make him just by existing.

You’re covering your mouth with your little gloved hand as they continue picking on Satoru, lighting up your face, lighting up the room. How could he have sapped so much joy from you!? How can he get over the hatred he has for himself, so he can show you the love building, and it’s a crushing, consuming love, one where it’s all he can think of.

All he can think of is you.

How many ways he can make you cum, how many times he could get you to scream out his name. How your beautiful fucking eyes glazed over when he got you off so hard you were convulsing, then that look when you’d been on your knees. But more than just that, more than your perfect cunt and body, no the moments where he just could hold you…

He’d never slept so well in his fucking life as last night, woken up just drooling on you, sprawled all over, taking over your bed, you’d just been snug and tight against him, so small and sweet. Satoru wanted to protect you from anything in the world, but what had he done, but been what you needed protecting from. Even Suguru had screamed at him, Shoko had, his mom had just from hearing rumors.

And you needed another man to protect you from him. Satoru hates that, more than anything, the thoughts that swirl as he realizes how much he pushed you, how much he took out every pain in his life on you. He does not think he even deserves to look upon you, but he’s so fucking selfish he’ll take it, take anything from you.

“I am starving.” You say, and he smiles at hearing it, it’s not something you would normally say, so worried constantly about appearances. “I am going to grab a bite to eat, let them yell at you more.”

He chuckles, kissing your hand gently, to the surprise of Suguru and Shoko, who share a little hopeful smile. “Sounds good, I’ll be waiting for another dance.”

“Hmm, maybe… we’ll see.” You tease, and Satoru is left with Shoko and Suguru, crossing their arms.

“She was completely done with you I thought.” Shoko says, Satoru sighs, the knife twisting in his stomach.

“I truly thought so as well. She had…”

“The papers, I am aware.” He glares at them, but then sighs once more, shaking his head. “I understand why you signed them. You all wanted better for her.”

They both look aghast now. “Have you actually come to your senses? Did all my smacks work?” Shoko asks, Satoru shakes his head once more, as a server brings them each a glass of champagne. He twists it in his hands now.

“She found someone else.” His voice is hoarse as he speaks, and they share a look, then nod a bit. “You knew?”

“Yes. I did not judge her for it. Though she should have picked me.” Suguru says with a smirk, and Shoko laughs.

“You’ve already kissed her, you ass.” Satoru glares, but Suguru shrugs, sipping on his champagne casually.

“Sure did. You deserved worse.”

“I know. But still you deserve a punch.”

“You deserve multiple.”

“I’d have kissed her if I was there.” Shoko says with a grin, earning another scowl from Satoru.

“Some friends I have!”

“You’re lucky you still have any. Even before her, you’ve been miserable.” Suguru says.

“I know. How about you both come to dinner this weekend? And I can explain myself.” They nod then, making Satoru exhale in relief. “It’s a long story…”

“Hey, is the Duchess alright? Her mother…” Suguru trails off now, and Satoru looks over at you, his stomach lurching when he looks at your mother grabbing your wrist roughly, shoving down whatever food you had in it. “What on Earth is she doing acting that way!?”

“What a little bitch. Should I spill a drink on her?” Shoko says through gritted teeth, her fists clenching in her silk gloves.

“She’s done this to her for her entire life.” Satoru whispers, furious as he watches your crestfallen face. “And I’m done with it.”

Satoru downs his drink in a gulp, handing the empty glass to Suguru now, before grabbing his and downing it as well. Suguru just nods to him, looking back at you now, concern washing his face. “I’ve always wondered if she had a problem, she never ate anything around me. Then you…”

“I know, I was horrible. I must fix at least one thing I can control.” Satoru says, and they nod.

“Go to her.” Suguru pats him on the shoulder, and now Satoru’s eyes are set on you across the room, striding towards you in long lengths, ignoring anyone and everyone who tries to pause him, speak to him.

He can see your mother bending over you, and you damn near fucking cowering, fiddling with your hands in front of yourself, before covering yourself up with your arms, hugging yourself, so insecure. It makes him sick and furious, sick for you, for what you feel when you shouldn’t, and furious this woman would continue on. He can’t even hear her words but he just knows.

He knows he needs to do one fucking thing right for you, one of many more things if you’ll allow him. He stands now right in front of you both, you’re standing in front of a tower of fruit and chocolate fountains, there’s the tiniest little plate where you had taken a bite of one. You look up at him now, eyes glistening with tears, and your mother attempts a fake smile.

“Your Grace!”

“Just what have you said to upset my wife?”

Your POV

His wife?

Why does hearing that make your heart race, make you overheat, to the point you almost feel giddy? It feels so good to hear him, to see him standing so tall next to you, putting a possessive arm around your waist, bringing you against him. Just days ago this would seem impossible, improbable, but now…

Your mother is sputtering, and you’re trying not to cry in front of an entire assembly of people, mostly gossipers, you’re trying to hold onto a frail composure, but it’s nearly impossible. The relief you feel when he’s next to you is indescribable, no matter what has happened between you two, once again he defends you from her, the woman you have no hope of standing up to.

You had just wanted a nibble as you had not had a chance to eat today with all the preparations, when your mother had smacked it right out of your hand, cruelly assessing your outfit. Asking why you had no corset, asking what you were wearing, telling you how horrible and wide waisted you look. That you were embarrassing her by being this way.

You cannot manage to stand up for yourself with her, you never really have been able to, unlike how you could with Duke Gojo. You’re now rubbing on the scar on your wrist, and Satoru’s eyes go there, you still have much to learn about each other, and you’re at times scared to open up. He’s trying, and you want to try, but it’s so terrifying to trust him.

It felt so easy, waking up next to him, those glittering blue eyes studying you, that silky white hair perfect even in the damn morning. You had shared this look with him as the sun’s rays had filtered in through the window, casting shadows on his perfect face, tempting you to caress a cheek. He had kissed you so hungrily, in the quiet little morning, a kiss that felt like so much more than lust.

Satoru Gojo surely knew lust, look at all his experience, but he says with you it is more, and you’re scared to believe him. But you do want to, and fuck if you don’t feel deeply for him, falling into a madness that consumes you. The thing that has scared you this entire time is your feelings for him, now more than ever, you feel your heart in his hands.

And he could crush you if he knew that you were falling head over heels in love with this cruel, foolish, toxic and insane man. A man that you should not feel this for, even though yes he’s trying, why do you want to forgive him so fast? Why not have him suffer, make him feel pain like you did…

Well because that’s not who you are.

But at the same time you can’t just express it, times like this morning you wanted to whisper ‘my love’ but you cannot yet. You still need to feel safe, so you must keep it to yourself, you do not want things used against you. Of course you want to believe him, but you’re still nervous, and he seems to understand, he does not ask for you to return the things he says.

But you feel them, with your entire body and soul, just dancing with him in his arms, looking up at him in his elegant black suit, you wanted to melt into him then and there, as if it were only you two. The rest of the world seems to fade in the background, even before, even when you hated each other, it was like it was just you two and that hatred.

Was it ever hatred? You still do not know. Even then you wanted to figure him out, to solve him, even in Nanami’s bed you’d thought of him, you had dreamed of him so many times. You were always consumed by him, but now the hatred has ebbed and flowed, and you’re left with more and more feelings beyond desire, especially now as he’s studying you carefully.

You had cut yourself a few times, always in the same place, and unfortunately once was a very deep one, on accident. You had wanted to do it as a punishment, because you knew you could never live up to your mother’s expectations. But that day, you’d been happy, simply been baking muffins in the kitchens with the cooks, and had been nibbling when she’d found you.

You always had strict rules set by your mother, and even more as a young adult, as your mother put more and more pressure on you. You had to have the tiniest waist, they would corset you down to a ridiculous eighteen inches at certain points, but as you matured, you could only get to twenty inches, and to see you indulging had set your mother into a fit of course.

She had laced you up herself in the room, laced you so tightly and with so much force you threw up the only thing you had eaten, she did not hit you or hurt you, your parents never did such a thing, for that you guess you are lucky. But she had said the meanest things as she laced you up, of how no man would want you, of how you needed to be prettier, better, thinner.

You’d sobbed as she had left, just a tying of a corset became something so disgusting, and after you’d thrown up the contents of your stomach, barely able to breathe, you’d had an asthma attack. Finally getting to the kitchens, you’d instead found a knife, and sliced your wrist so deep blood had poured everywhere, and for a moment you felt a dizzying peace.

Your nan had stitched you up, sobbing, you had broken her heart, you knew, but she never judged you, she just unlaced you, caring for the blood not just on your wrist but on your back from your mother’s tight lacing. She had bandaged you up and held you as you sobbed all night, telling you that you were worthy.

Even thinking of it now makes you choke up, sniffling back tears as you struggle to focus, to not let such thoughts drag you down. “I merely am concerned at what she is wearing, your Grace. Where is her corset, and what is this dress!?”

“She can wear whatever she bloody well wants, first off Mama.” Satoru says, squeezing you tightly. “Second off, she looks beautiful, women do not wear corsets, not young women anyway. It’s not even in fashion. You would want my Duchess out of fashion?”

“No, of course not but it’s not flattering! She had the smallest waist, your Grace, before you met-”

“How much smaller does she need to fucking be!? How can she have children if she starves herself, she’s already done so enough I imagine in your care.” He scowls at her now, and she returns it.

“Well, I never! She had everything she wanted.” You scoff now, earning her ire. “Something to say?”

“No.” You whisper, hating yourself, and Satoru looks at you in confusion, thin white brows drawn together.

“That’s fine, I have much to say on her behalf, first and foremost you will no longer try to control what she eats, what she wears, anything. I am her husband now, and that duty is only for me. And I say she can do whatever the fuck she wants. Is this understood, my Lady?” His words in your defense touch you deeply, as you look up at him, seeing the set to his jaw, feeling his grip on you.

Your mother sighs, looking at you with disdain up and down. “You of course have that right, but I caution you to think better. She enjoys sweets too much, what if she becomes-”

“She can have whatever it is she wants. And she’s beautiful, so beautiful you feel the need to down her. Is it your inadequacies you push?” Your mouth drops open, your mother blushing furiously, fanning herself now as your dad comes up, smiling and patting your head. Though a little awkward and distant, he was kind, completely clueless surely.

“What’s going on with you three? People are looking.” He says, Satoru smirks just a bit at him.

“I was informing your wife it’s a husband’s duty to watch what his wife does, not her mother’s any longer. Would you agree my Lord?” Satoru asks, and your father glares at your mother now.

“Again?” He asks quietly, she rolls her eyes.

“I’m just looking out for her, I just care for her.”

“Perhaps your care has nearly ended me.” You finally murmur, earning Satoru and your father’s concerned gaze, your mother looks further irritated.

“So ungrateful, I-”

“That’s quite enough. You will no longer speak to her and upset her in that way, especially if you do not wish to lose all your invitations garnered by her being married to me. Is that quite clear?” Satoru’s icy blue eyes glare right at her, your dad senses the tension and tugs at her arm.

“She’s just feeling a little out of sorts. Apologize, darling.” Your dad says, your mom is seething, scowling down at you.

“Fine, let yourself go then. I suppose it’s your right, you’re married well, but I hope you set a better example for your-”

“That’s enough. An apology, then you may leave.” Satoru says again, she looks up at him, mouth setting.

“I apologize, your Grace.”

“No, to her, to your daughter.” You tense next to him now, shaking your head, and Satoru looks even more curiously at you.

“No need, Mama.” You murmur, now Satoru is glaring down at you.

“There is a need. I insist.” He speaks through gritted teeth. You take a breath, and your mother looks down for a moment, seeing you two.

“You’re indeed in love, aren’t you? You both are lucky.” You both pause at that. “You shall hear no more, it is your right as her husband to control such things. I bid you both a good evening.” Your dad pauses as your mom turns away.

“I hope you are doing well, darling. You look lovely.” You smile then, taking his hand, as he nods his head to Satoru. “Your Grace.”

“My Lord.” He says in return, then, he looks down at you, and you can’t control it anymore, you feel yourself falling apart, at how much you just…

How much you feel.

He stood up for you again from her, someone you can’t manage to stand up for yourself, the emotions are now overwhelming, the things you constantly want to hold back, the fears you should have and do have shoved back for just this moment. You take his hands in yours, as he looks down at you, concern written on his face, delicately wiping a tear.

“Come, too many onlookers, let us have privacy for a moment.” You nod then, letting him walk you out of the room, your tears catch the lights of the chandeliers above your heads, glinting in the evening. He leads you through a sea of lords and ladies, through an empty corridor, until he has you in a large study, shutting the door behind you.

It’s quiet for a moment, as he clicks the lock, then you can’t hold it in any longer, your tears, your feelings, as soon as he has turned to face you, you’re against him, pulling him down by the lapels of his jacket, tip toeing. You smash your lips on his, and he devours yours, kissing you over and over, hands cupping your face, tasting the salt of your tears.

His hands soon come to grip your waist, burning through the layers of your gown, finally he leans back, blue eyes flickering back and forth as he studies you, wiping more of the tears that flow. He’s quiet for just a moment, exhaling and then kissing your cheeks, your forehead, and you cling to his wrists, trembling.

“Thank you, Satoru. You didn’t have to do that.” You whisper finally, looking up at him through your watery gaze.

“It’s the very least I can do. What has she done to make you so… weak in front of her? Where’s the angry brat I’m used to?” You giggle a bit then, but he seems very serious, taking off your gloves slowly, a thumb brushing your wrist. “I have no right to ask more about you, but if you would share?”

You nod then, he sits you on the settee, coming to sit next to you, an arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you against him. “I was never good enough for her, Satoru, never ‘perfect’ enough. So I began to punish myself for my imperfections…” He gulps, his own eyes filled with emotions.

“I always thought you were so perfect, that it vexed me. Until I got to truly know you, and realize you… are quite a mess.”

“Hey!” He chuckles, as you shove at him, sniffling now.

“Beautiful mess.” You take a breath now, leaning closer, letting him brush your arm up and down gently.

“You make it difficult to keep hating you. Odd for a man so hateable prior.” He smiles sadly, snowy lashes lowering over his irises.

“I surely was easy to hate. So… the perfection was hard to reach for you? Where does it leave the rest of us?”

“Oh hush. No it was impossible, and soon I well… cut myself.”

Satoru gulps now, eyes glimmering. “Fuck.”

“Is this too-”

“No, I want to know you. Please.” You nod then, hearing the desperation in his voice, feeling yourself want him more, in ways you never knew, in ways that scare the fuck out of you, telling him things no one knew but Nan, and even she did not know all of it.

“I did it to punish myself for my inadequacy.” You whisper, his eyes flutter shut for a moment, pulling you even closer. “I went too far one night, when she was particularly cruel to me, I had been eating muffins in the kitchen. That’s why the scar is there, I cut too deep, then for a moment… I thought perhaps things would be better if-”

“No, no, no. Never. Would anything be better without you here.” He cups your face now, squeezing so hard you wince, and you can’t stop the break down, as he kisses you once more, soft brushes of once cruel lips. “I said that day that I wanted you not to exist, and I’ll never fucking forgive myself for it now. What if you hurt yourself due to me!?”

“Satoru, I didn’t, and I forgive you.” His jaw clenches.

“You shouldn’t! You shouldn’t!” He’s shaking you now, choking up on his own words, chest heaving with his breaths. You shake your head, running your hands up his chest now.

“I do forgive you for it. I do. You have to forgive yourself.”

“No, I will not. I’ll hate myself for you.”

“Satoru, you’re trying. I see it. I see you.” You swipe the moisture from his cheek now, and Satoru exhales, leaning in closer, hands on your waist, pressing in, your back against the chaise now, his body hard against yours.

“How can you forgive me?”

“Because I… because I feel… I am…” You can’t say it, fuck you want to, the words choke in your throat, and Satoru notices, now you’re on your back, pressed into the firm cushion, and he’s braced on top of you, as both of your hearts pound in your chests.

“I will never let you be hurt again, even if it’s me, even if I have to remove my goddamn self from your life. I swear it to you. I will never. Not your bitch mother, not some lady I was foolish enough to lay with, no one. I will protect you as long as you stay with me.” Your eyes are so full of tears it’s difficult to see, they’re falling down hot and sticky, as he leans so close you can feel his body weight on you.

“I believe you.” You say softly, voice breaking. “I forgive you.”

“How!?”

“Because I see what’s underneath, I see who you are. Yes it still fucking hurts, yes I’m terrified, but I am… I am…”

“Scared to say it.” He murmurs, and you nod. “Then let me say it.”

“Satoru, no…”

“I’m falling deeper in love every second I breathe your air, air I do not think I even deserve to share. Every time you smile it stabs me in the goddamn heart, the broken, fucked up heart that beats just for you.”

“Don’t!” You try to stop it, to stop his words, words that will end you, but Satoru will not allow it.

“It’s the truth, it is. You do not have to say anything back, fuck I do not deserve it, do not deserve any of you. Just know it is true, that my greatest regret is making the woman I am falling in love with hurt. The one I want to make feel so fucking good every day now, the one that deserves the world, deserves more than I could ever give. But I will try, I will try everything I can-”

“Satoru.” You cut him off then, as his words wrack through you, as he’s saying things that seem surreal.

“I’m sorry, it’s too much, it’s just that you consume me, kill me-”

“Satoru.” He sighs.

“You mean to crush me between your little fingers, do it, it’s yours.” He puts your hand on his heart, you feel it pounding against your palm.

“You have to forgive yourself.”

“No. I love you too much not to hate me.” His words ruin you, the intent behind them, the intensity, words you feel too, but fuck you’re still so afraid

“Stop it. I don’t hate you, quite the opposite.” His lips part then, glossy and tempting. “I should hate you.”

“You should.”

“Just… kiss me.” He slams his lips down on yours now, taking everything you ever thought you knew and knocking it over, his lips feel so perfect as if they were always supposed to be there, like there was nothing before him, and there is nothing but him.

“I shouldn’t get to kiss you.” He says as he leans up, hand on one of your thighs, sliding up your stocking clad leg, making you tremble. “I shouldn’t get to touch you. To exist near you.”

“Well guess what, I want you to. I want you. Yes you were a fucking ass, and yes I’m terrified, but let me decide what I want.” Your voice breaks once more as he finds you, hot and eager, when weren’t you for him? He moans softly as he feels you, as your hips arch up.

“Nothing has ever felt like this.” He murmurs, sliding two fingers in your soppy little entrance, stretching you out and making you gasp, covering your mouth to hide a cry as he studies you. “No one has ever felt like this. All I am thinking of is how badly I want you to forget that anyone ever touched you, kissed you. I want it all to be me.”

“You’re insane, you know that? Mnh…” You’re arching up for more of his touch, in some Lord’s study, in the middle of a ball, but it’s what you want, you want him more than anything, your cunt greedily sucking him in, soaking his fingers.

“I want you to be mine, Duchess. All mine. Selfish and greedy, I know. But I crave it, I want it, I need it. Only mine.”

“Fuck you talk too much.” You whisper, earning his scowl, and you can’t help but giggle before he’s shoving his third finger in your pussy, making you gasp, just to the first knuckle.

“Too much? Can’t take it?” He whispers, challenging you now, and it’s your turn to glare up at him.

“Maybe I want y-you to… forget about anyone.”

He chuckles as you hear your squishing wetness, hand moving under your gown, working you so good you’re getting closer and closer. “I already have. All I can see is you, even when I close my damn eyes.” His lips hover as he shoves his fingers deeper, moaning. “Feel her pulsing around them.”

“Ngh…” You’re so close when suddenly the door knob jiggles, and you gasp, pulling away, but he gently eases his fingers out, sucking you off him, the sticky honeyed arousal, moaning. “You’re insane!”

“You enjoy it, slutty girl.” He whispers, kissing you once more, and you’re so close it hurts, throbbing now.

“I hurt, fuck.” You curse, Satoru chuckles, helping you up, smoothing out your dress now.

“Come now, let us put on our airs, and don’t wobble, they’ll know.”

“Oh fuck you!” You shove him and he snatches you up, picking you up in his arms, your feet dangling as you cling to him.

“I’ll punish this dirty mouth later.” His words excite you, goddammit, everything about him does. When you all are dancing another set later on, you are dancing with Suguru and him with Shoko, it’s almost impossible not to throw yourself at him, you try to remember how much you should hate him, and those things are always in the back of your head, but now…

Now things aren’t as they were before.

“You wound me, Duchess.” Suguru says with a pout, you look up at his handsome face and smile. “And you smile at my pain!?”

“Oh hush, you just wanted to comfort me that night.”

“I’ll let you both think that.” He shoots a wink at you, earning your blush. “How is the puppy Satoru?”

“So good! You’re coming over for dinner, yes?”

“Yes, I look forward to knowing what happened in just a few days' time. I can’t say I’m not happy though, to see him so… in love.”

“You think he truly is?”

“I know he is. But I knew that, which is why it was so baffling, to watch him go against everything he felt, and be so nasty. It’s hard for me to forget that dinner.”

“I know, Lord Geto.” You sigh, as the song ends, and he kisses your hand, his long silky hair falling over one shoulder.

“I want you both to be happy. You let me know if we need to beat him.” You laugh softly as you give him a curtsy.

“Indeed. I may need you to, you never know.” You look then, to see Lady Elaine as well as four other women all over Satoru, as he looks right at you, drinking a glass of whiskey. Suguru also looks.

“He needs your rescue, Duchess.” You roll your eyes.

“Does he?”

“He’s mouthing ‘help me’. So.” You head over now, and Satoru grins, and fuck if it doesn’t do things to you, to see him happy in these moments, to see him like this, you wonder how long you can hold it in, the joy in what Satoru said to you.

Falling in love with you.

You should question it, question him, but all you can think of is how he said it, and what you felt when he did. How deeply in your soul you feel his words, words that Nanami had said, but for some reason, you didn’t react that way. You felt that terrible Nanami felt in such a way for you, because you knew you didn’t feel close, even then you knew.

Even when Satoru was horrible, even when you’d smacked him, when you’d spit such vitriol at each other, something was there, in his touch, in his gaze, filled with hatred, and oh you did hate him then. You still hate what he did, it’s not forgotten even if you have forgiven him, it’s in the back of your head taunting you, scaring you, but it doesn’t change anything, it doesn’t change how you feel.

How you feel seeing women around him, when you had grown so accustomed, when you let it go, got used to it. Now, however, they look at you, the woman who used to be so inconsequential, Satoru has one hand in his pocket, the other holding the little crystal glass tumblr. You clear your throat now, and Satoru smirks.

“My beautiful wife.” He says, earning the pouts of most of them, they all flit away but Elaine, who scowls at you now. You simply give her a smile.

“Lady Elaine.”

“Your Grace.” She spits out, as Satoru pulls you into his arms, kissing you right in front of her, earning her mouth dropping. “Ah, so romantic, I wonder what the Ton would think if they knew the truth? That you were with another man, right in the next room, and I heard- ah!”

You have spilled a drink all over Lady Elaine’s dress now, feigning innocent shock, as Satoru struggles to hide his chuckles. “Oh dear, I am ever so clumsy I fear, so sorry Lady Elaine!”

“You little bitch, I-”

“You mean your Grace.” Satoru says between his teeth, an arm around your waist as she scowls up at him, people are gathering around, whispering, clearly having heard.

“Would you like your husband to know your indiscretions?” You whisper, right against her face, hands clenched into fists. Her eyes lower, and she shakes her head now. “You slept with my husband, I’ve done you no wrong. You have no right to threaten me, but just know, you will not scare me.”

“He said he didn’t even want you, you know that right?” You choke up then, and Satoru scowls.

“You mean when I kicked you out and said I only wanted her?” She can’t meet your eyes, huffing and turning away now.

“Toxic insane couple.” You can’t help but agree internally, as she is stomping away. You and Satoru look at each other, as the past seems to keep trying both of you. “I swear it, I told her to leave.”

“I believe you.”

“You do!?”

You smile a bit at his surprise. “I do. I remember checking on you that night…” 

“I know, I was awake.” He caresses your face, peering around then, as people are murmuring about the couple so in love, and you feel the weight of their gazes upon you both. “Let us go home.”

“Home?” You say softly.

“Yes, the surprise awaits.”

“It better be a good one, all this build up.”

“I think you’ll like it, Princess.”

“The bed!? It’s…”

“Gone.” Satoru grins as he leads you into his bedchambers, a brand new four post bed in the room, it’s nothing like the other one. You hesitantly walk up to it, brand new blankets, brand new frame, brand new everything.

“You… you really did this?” You murmur, looking up at him, as he closes the door behind him, walking up to you in long strides, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling your back against him. You exhale, eyes fluttering shut at how good it feels.

“I will burn every piece of furniture in this manor if you wish me to.” He whispers in your ear. “If every piece gets me one more day with you.”

You turn in his hold, breasts heaving and rising with every labored breath, his face full of desire as you yank him down to you. “You would burn that table too?”

“I’ll burn the fucking table.” You moan then, letting his lips devour yours, his hands grip your ass, bringing his thigh between yours. “Feel that fucking heat.” He whispers, and you grind helpless, craving more, more.

“You’re still… a whore.” He smirks as he works the laces of your bodice, ribbon by ribbon.

“And you’re a slutty little Princess. Aren’t you? For me?” You cry out when your breasts spill out of your top, and he’s gripping them in his big hands, kissing you again, tongue sliding against yours, swirling in your mouth. Your tongue joins him and meets him, stroke for stroke.

“For you, against… mmm… better judgment.” He’s got your skirts on the floor, undoing your stays, your hands tremble as you slide off his jacket, unbuttoning his shirt, eyeing the marble perfection that he is, your eyes lock then, as you’re both panting, both messes, until you’re bare in front of him, and he drinks you in.

“You’re beautiful. So beautiful.”

“Stop making me fall for you. I hate it.” He pauses then, brows together, lips parted just so, as you feel yourself pouring your own goddamn heart on the floor. “I’m so scared to let you have it. What if you crush it?”

“Your heart?”

“Yes. Yes… I’m scared, Satoru. Scared to feel this.”

“Well I’m fucking terrified, Duchess.” You’re stroking him then, finding his hard length over his trousers, as he is grabbing your bare ass, moaning, kissing your lips brutally.

“Of feeling this?” You ask, weak when he’s picked you up, hoisting you onto the new bed, exhaling as he looks at you with insane eyes, shaking his head, hands slipping down your waist, your hips, thumbs pressing in.

“Of you leaving me, as you should. I can’t imagine living with it, knowing I pushed the one thing I love away.” He gulps now, and you feel it, his fear, his truth. “You don’t have to love me back, you can let me love you.”

“You’re so stupid. You’re so annoying. Why do you do this?” He sighs, a hand bracing himself up, your own fingers drift down the hard muscles of his abdomen, watching them tense under your touch.

“I cannot help but beg for you to stay with me. I’ll keep begging.” He’s found you again, your slick cunt that he’d so toyed with earlier, moaning as she responds to him, slick pouring out of you. “I’ll beg every moment for any of you.”

“Fuck you.” He kisses you now, you cling to him, back arching for more of his touches, as he kisses your neck.

“I’ll fuck you, Princess. Don’t worry.” You can’t even speak as he’s scissoring his fingers in and out of you, until you climax so hard you can’t see, gasping for breath. He’s kissing down your stomach, it’s too sweet, it’s too intimate, his eyes dilated as he looks up at you, big hands gripping your thighs. “I love your taste, I love your body, I love-”

“Fuck you.” You barely manage to say it again, he smirks against your thigh, before running his tongue up your slit, already over sensitive. You scream out, head pressing back against the pillows. “Fuck you for being so… good at that!”

“I love watching you cum.” You’re crying when he’s sucking your clit into his mouth now, a hand pressing on your tummy as he does, his tongue lavishing the underside of it with hot flicks, watching you fall apart. Your hands sink into his silky locks, pulling him closer, hips bucking up for more of him, feeling his moans vibrate your clit until he has you cumming again.

This orgasm washes through your entire body, leaving you weak, he slips up your body with kisses, it’s too sweet, it’s too much. It’s not rough and stupidly insane, he’s worshiping your body with his hands, his lips, his eyes. You feel everything about to explode as your feelings overwhelm you, especially when his hand entwines with one of yours, and your eyes meet.

“Fuck you for this.” He nods just a bit, as your free hand cups his face, the aftershocks of your orgasm wrecking your resolve. “You hit me or something, you choke me, you… call me a slut. Whatever you need, don’t do this, don’t.”

“Don’t make love to you?” He whispers, and you nod jerkily.

“I can’t take it if you do.” You gasp when he presses inside your soaking entrance, thick tip drooling precum as it slips in, and you’re trembling, panting, your nails digging into his perfect skin as he sinks into your heat. He moans as you do, hovering over you, just sitting there. “D-don’t look at me like this.”

“Like you’re beautiful? Precious? Like I love you?” Your lip trembles so much you bite it to stop it, as he gently rocks out and then inside your pussy, your walls fluttering around him.

“Yes, like that. Scowl or something.” You plead, sniffling as the tears won’t stop, but he shakes his head, pulling a thigh over his arm now, sinking deeper, gasping as his tip hits your cervix, and you’re blinded when he’s grinding on it.

“Let me love you. Please.” He begs now, bracing an arm next to your head and cupping your face as he slowly slides into you, and you feel it, your body responding, the heavy weight of him, the thickness of him inside you, his heart thrumming so wildly you feel it against your breasts.

“I’m scared.” He nods, kissing you now, pressing in again, and you both kiss as he rocks into you, as he rolls his hips just so, tip dragging on your spot, now you’re lost to him, blinded, as he lowers all your defenses.

“Then just let me say it. It’s… ah… you’re so fucking tight…” He trails off, his eyes rolling back for a moment, starting to pump into you, you’re soaking his length, clinging to him as he rocks into you, faster now, but still he’s not fucking your body. He’s fucking your mind. “I’ll only say it.”

“Shut up.” You kiss him once more, moaning into his mouth as he begins pumping his thick cock inside of you, you hear it even at his gentle pace, you hear how wet you are, mingling with your shared breaths, your cries. You get further lost in him, lost in those eyes that swirl, that glitter, those lips that kiss you, the sweat that drips off his brow onto your lips.

Satoru loses himself to you, as you lose yourself to him, as he’s making love to you in a way you never knew possible, a way that is so beautiful you can’t take it. You drown in it, drown in him, every cry and gasp and breath a part of a song, a song that is both of you, that is the undeniable fact you’ve tried to hide, to shove down, to push away at every moment.

That you…

“Feel s’good, oh my god. Tight little cunt. Fuck.” He’s cursing now, going just a little faster, you know he’s trying to keep it slow, but he’s lost in you, eyes intoxicated just like you are for him, his kisses the sweetest alcohol you could ever have, a dose of laudanum could not come close to the euphoria you feel.

“Ngh… Toru…” He moans at that, placing both of your thighs up higher, dragging your hips down and sliding his cock even deeper, so deep you can’t take it, his hand comes to your tummy now, moaning.

“Feel myself here, do you, Princess?” Satoru’s words make you blush even during sex, and he takes your hand, putting it on your tummy, you feel it then, his cock bulging your tummy.

“That’s…” You move your hand, and he tilts your chin down, to watch it as he leans up on his knees, you watch your stomach bulge as he presses in, gasping, your eyes locking with his again, before looking back down. Your cum is forming a creamy ring at the base of his cock, his long fingers sliding over your body, splaying the expanse of your waist.

“Look how deep I am. Mmm….” He’s moaning as he watches, and the intensity is so much, even more so when he finds your clit with his thumb, running in little circles on it, engorged and sensitive.

“Satoru!” You cry out, and he hisses when your walls clench him, tight like a vise, his head falling back, exposing that strong neck, before his eyes are back on you, and he’s fucking you so deep, so deep you feel him everywhere, and you’re shattering around him.

“That’s it, oh god, that’s it.” He’s trembling as he lays back on you, hand digging into your hip, pressing it down to shove in so deep you’re both screaming out together, clinging to each other. “Fuck I love you.”

“Stop it, stop it, mmm…”

“I do. I can’t stop it. I can’t stop it, fucking wanna cum in your little cunt, fill you up with my seed.”

“Satoru!” He’s moaning now, fucking quicker, harder, bringing you to the brink, fucking you right through your aftershocks.

“I won’t, I won’t… just wanna. Wanna breed you. Pretty fucking pussy. Pretty little face.”

“Goddammit.” You’re digging your nails into his back, and he just moans, eyes fluttering shut, kissing you again and again.

“Cum again, please, I’m close.” He whispers against your ear now, and you take several shaky breaths, convulsing under him as he starts fucking you hard, thrusts so goddamn good, pelvis smacking against yours over and over. “Let me feel you, my pretty little Princess.”

“N-no. Say slut or something!”

“No.”

“Fuck you so much.” He smiles just a bit, before moaning once more, slowing and thickening inside of you.

“Come on pretty, once more, can’t take her, too perfect.” You can’t anymore, you grip his face, rolling your hips up, earning his groan.

“I am falling in love with you too.” He gasps then, pausing, even as his cock is throbbing, and your cunt is soaking him, he does not move. He’s in shock, eyes looking wildly. “It doesn’t mean… I don’t… that I will… cum in me, fuck.”

“What!? You-”

“Cum in me. Please.” He groans now, pumping into you more and more, nearly sobbing with you as he kisses you, as he raises your thigh, fucking you into some other realm, like you’re floating, clinging to him to exist.

“Gonna cum in you, fill you up, hmm? You want it?” You nod eagerly against his neck as he moves, hitting that spot again with his tip. “Take it all, can you?”

“Yes, y-yes.” You manage to whisper, and now you he’s pulsing, and you feel your walls clamp down around his thickness, and he cums hard as he slams his lips on yours, his hot seed spilling into you, filling you so full. “Ah!”

“F-fuck…” He groans as you cum with him, your walls pulsing around him, his name on your lips, your name on his, his eyes never leaving yours, even as he’s lost in his own pleasure. He’s filling you with hot sticky cum, coating your walls, pumping in slowly now, letting out a shaky breath. “Painting your pretty insides. Princess…”

“Toru…” You whine as you both come down, sticky with sweat, and between your thighs his cum and yours drip down his length, a mess of arousal.

“Holy fuck I’ve never…” He shakes his head, and the weight of what you’ve both done hits you. “You truly love me? How?” He’s stroking your head, gulping, and you smile through more tears, struggling to come to, as he eases out of your pussy, a mess of fluids dripping, making you flush as you watch.

“I do not have an answer for how, only that I am falling. I’m scared that this happiness is fleeting. That this will end horribly. But I want this. Want you.” He kisses you again so deeply, moaning as his lips smack over and over, you’re shuddering at how good it feels, meeting his kiss each time, basking in how it feels.

It should be scarier, falling for Satoru.

It should terrify the fuck out of you, maybe it does.

But it also feels good. It feels good to say it finally, to put words to the things that have tortured you. “I won’t let your heart be hurt. I swear I’ll try everything.”

“I shall hold you to it.” You say, as he strokes your cheek, smiling so big, his smile makes you melt, filling your heart so full you think it will burst.

“Will you finally sleep in the bed?” He asks, and you bite your lip, nodding, then as he’s pulled you against him later that evening, wrapping an arm around your waist, you lay in Duke Gojo’s bed, with him behind you, already sleepy, already too damn comfortable. “Mmm, I never thought to have you here.”

“Satoru… you’ll do anything for me, you say?”

“Oh god… what is it?”

“I want you to get rid of the table.” You say with an evil little grin, raising your brows, Satoru laughs, shaking his head.

“I can get rid of the table. What else?” He pecks kisses on your cheek now, you sigh happily.

“That will do for now.”

“Mmm… good night, needy Princess.”

“Good night, Satoru.”

Gojo’s POV

The next morning you are the one up first, Satoru feels you brushing his hair back gently, he opens his eyes and smiles at you, you return in, blushing so pretty, your usually put together hair a mess from last night. You’re only wearing a little silk chemise, a pretty blue one that feels so soft against his bare chest, it’s nearly as soft as your skin, pressed against him.

You’re toying with his hair now, spiking it up and giggling, his thigh is between both of yours, his cock throbbing with need already, craving to be back inside of you, craving to cum in you again and again. He grabs one of your thighs now, hitching it over his, watching you bite your lower hip, your eyelids lower, desire filling your pretty eyes, mirroring his own.

He’s slipped your chemise up, grabbing your ass in his hand, his cock brushing over your slit, through thin material, which you quickly soak with your arousal. His heart races as your nails dig into his biceps, then your head falls back, he starts kissing down your neck, biting it then, hard, your skin between his teeth. Your nails dig in harder, your hips rolling as you grind against him.

Last night he’d wanted to make love to you, to show you how beautiful you are to him, how much he loves you, but of course, he loves when you’re a freaky brat too, and now he’s craving just that. He quickly turns you, to where your back is against him, the curve of your ass against his hard length, he pulls it out as he pulls your thigh high over his arms, starting to rub his tip against your folds.

“Satoru!” You cry out, voice cracking in the middle, your head falling back, he wraps his other hand around your neck, moaning as he finally kisses your lips.

“Want this cock in you, slutty brat?” He whispers, you respond so goddamn well, starting to soak him now, dripping wet and slippery as he slides more and more, pressing just a bit against your clit. His tip leaks precum on it, and you’re gasping now, so sensitive.

“Fuck you, Satoru.” He smiles against your neck, biting you again, feeling your body tense up, cunt gushing arousal all over him.

“You’re soaking fucking wet, slutty pussy.”

“Mnh…” You look back at him then, eyes dilated, lips parted, your pretty breasts rise and fall with each breath.

“Want me to break you, Princess?”

“Shut up and fuck me, Satoru.” He moans, fuck he loves your bitchy attitude, he wants to fuck it right out of you then back into you.

“No fingering? That needy?” He asks, and you whine then, reaching back and grabbing his cock, placing it at your entrance, he groans then, feeling his tip push past the tight ring of muscles, you start cumming just from that, little hole tightening, making him shiver at how good it feels.

“Oh my god. Please.” You whisper.

“So sweet suddenly? Need something?” He presses in deeper, pulling back out, earning your huff of irritation, before he shoves his cock deeper now, your walls fluttering around him, feeling so fucking good he can’t take it. “Mmm…”

“More, more… I need more.” You plead so prettily, a hand reaching back to grab at his arm as he fucks into you fully, bottoming out in your tight little cunt, stuffing you so full, cursing at how perfect you feel. You’re made for him, you must be. “Satoru!”

“Desperate, cumming and I’m not trying.” He earns your scowl back at him now, but he fucks it away quickly, tip bullying against your cervix now, thinking about busting so deep inside you, filling you up again.

“You talk too bloody much.” You say angrily, so he smirks, fucking into you harder, lifting your thigh and pounding your cunt now. You fall apart around him, moaning loudly, and he kisses your neck, fucking you through it, feeling your walls tighten.

“That’s a good little slut, so perfect. You’re made for me.” You’re shaking now, he can tell you’re sensitive, overstimulated, so he decides to torture you worse, reaching  around your hip, his thumb pressing into your clit.

“F-fuck, too much!” You’re wriggling now, so he starts to thrust even harder, you’re so wet for him, soaking his hand, soaking the sheets.

“Too much, thought you could take it? ‘Fuck me Satoru!’”

“I hate you.” You turn your head to him, eyes narrowed even as they’re cock drunk on him, he grins as he gets you close again, rubbing your clit as he fucks your soaking wet little cunt, your glare turning him on as much as when you yank on his hair, dragging his lips to yours. “I can take it, you… arrogant… ah!”

“That’s it, cum like a good little whore f’me, only me.” He huffs, and then drinks your cries, as you convulse against him. Fuck you feel so good, he tenses now, as your walls try to milk him, and your eyes are rolled back, mouth lolled open, cumming on his cock all over again. “Want me to fill you up again? Make you so fuckin full of me?”

He’s pressing on your stomach, imagining you round with him, for some reason it makes him fucking feral, changing everything he’s ever known or thought. You are nodding eagerly, barely whispering his name, he grins as he realize he’s fucked your thoughts out of your head. He wants it to be him and only him there, just as you are all that’s inside his head.

You’re everything.

“Then beg for it.”

“Fuck off!”

“Beg for it, brat. Wanna have my baby?” You whine out again, taking several breaths.

“This is madness…”

“You’re madness.” He kisses you again, feeling your soft lips melding to his, as he pushes in so deep and rocks inside you.

“Please.” You whisper finally, and he moans and starts spilling inside you, coating your velvety walls with so much cum it’s insane. You seem to make him cum a ridiculous amount every fucking time. You are pulsing around him, as he’s throbbing in you, as if she wants to milk more.

“G-greedy pussy, she wants more?” He manages, eyes rolling back in his head as he slowly pushes more, you just nod, a weak little whimper.

Satoru eases out of you then, watching the mess of cum dribble out of your pussy, he reaches down and slides a finger through it, bringing it up to your mouth, and you suck it clean. You’re looking so pretty with your cheeks flushed, hairs sticking to your damp forehead, looking up at him through your lashes, and he’s lost again, lost in you.

“I’ll never let you out of this bed.” He says then, and you laugh a bit, caressing his cheek. “I’m so in love with you, evil succubus.”

“Succubus?”

“It’s a sex demon-”

“Satoru! You’re awful.” He just smirks, pressing you down on your back now, kissing down between your perfect breasts, your hips shift now, as his hands set on your little waist and you brush his hair back. “Should this feel so natural?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never felt this.” He says, sincerely, as you hold his heart in your pretty little hands, and now he knows he has yours, something he doesn’t deserve, but he craves it. Needs it, needs you, like a consuming madness that increases with every moment he breathes.

“Me either.” You whisper, easing his fears, his worries. He kisses your tummy, picturing it now, full of him, making him hard again.

“Let’s stay in bed all day. Fuck duties.” He says, and you laugh, shaking your head at him. “What, we never had a honeymoon.”

“No, we didn’t, we…”

“I was terrible.” He rests his head on your chest, loathing setting in, but you do not rub it in his face, his mistakes, you just sigh, brushing his hair back, and fuck it feels so good.

“We have things to do, lazy Duke.”

“Lazy!?”

You’re grinning as he leans up, then the servants are knocking, and he sighs, kissing you over and over. He wants to stay in this bubble, he’s so terrified of what can come between you both, especially last night. Your mother’s cruelty, Lady Elaine being a royal bitch, you both handled it, but how much of his own mess would he have to deal with?

Your POV

Another day in town, this time a much better off part of Satoru’s estates, but it still required much work as well. The villages are already much improved, you and Satoru are starting to feel so good about it all, about what you are doing together. Today you’re focusing on more fortunate people certainly, but there still are many matters you both need to attend to.

You are talking to some of the tenants as Satoru does more negotiating, when suddenly you see a tall dark haired businessman in a suit, and recognize him as the lawyer, Nanami’s friend Higuruma. You pause, blinking a bit, seeing him speaking to one of the business owners across the street, only for Nanami Kento to walk out with him.

You feel sick to your stomach when his hazel eyes catch you, knowing you have done just what he thought you would, and his lips set into a stern line as Satoru comes out of the building, pulling you against him, smiling. You cannot smile back, you’re panicking now, chest so tight, as you begin to remember, the hurt on Nanami’s face, the fucking pain you caused.

“Too long with stuffy men, need my bratty Princess.” He murmurs, kissing you gently, and it feels so good, but you know then, who’s watching. You try to pull away a bit, to explain, when suddenly Nanami is standing right in front of you both.

Satoru scowls at him, pulling his lips off you, and you look between the two men now, throat tightening even more as the panic sets in, as everything around you seems to almost spin, getting dizzy. Nanami scowls at Satoru right back, jaw clenched, his hand in a fist on his briefcase. Higuruma comes quickly, putting a hand on Nanami’s shoulder.

“Nanami…” He cautions.

“It’s you.” Satoru growls, stepping up to him now. You panic further, chest heaving as you put a hand to it.

“It’s you.” Nanami growls right back.

You look between them in horror, the man you came to when Satoru was being his most cruel, and you ended things with him, and now the man who had been so cruel, you’d woke up in his arms. You had let him cum in you, fuck you begged him to, so quickly too, as if everything Nanami said about you was true. You read the hurt all over his face, and the fury on Satoru’s.

You mutter under your breath then…

“Shit.”

This was a long one, was it too long aha? Let me know your thoughts I always appreciate hearing them!

Taglist is too many apparently lol! I'll tag the rest in comments <3 @kalopsia-flaneur @bunheadusa @7thsthings @disilluzions  @antisocialinlw @Sukunassfinger @lelsforlino @heeknow @muvasuperior @prince-wyiilder @lavender-hvze @ssetsuka  @labelt-san  @sadmonke @philiatothephobia @ambiguouslady42 @stromynight @dreamygirli3 @jjknanamin @jazlenekasi @victoriaaaa00 @wuvnada @valleydoli @nanasukii28 @sw3etnena @dark-agate @tamaki-simp @yuuuumii @givluv2tyy

Until Next Time, Masochistic Readers

Part Twelve Here

[leona-hawthorne]

1k celebration navigation

based on this request from @lov3notts — enjoy bb 💋 it got pretty long but… what can i say? the request was too good!

disclaimer: not all works for my 1k celebration request will be this long, this one was just special <3

18+ warnings ; angst , smut , oral (f receiving) , unprotected piv , fingering

FAULT LINE… book browsing

THEODORE NOTT. LORENZO BERKSHIRE.

You didn’t know how you got here. One moment, you’d been exchanging sharp words with Theodore Nott, and the next, your back hit the sheets of his bed, his hands grasping your hips with a quiet desperation he’d never admit aloud.

All you could focus on was the heady pull of his mouth, the damp trail of sloppy, bruising kisses he was leaving along the sensitive skin of your thighs. He’d barely given you a second to think, to breathe, before he’d dipped down, fingers splaying possessively against your skin, his face between your legs like it was the only place he wanted to be. The world shrank down to the muffled sound of your own moans, of Theo’s name falling from your lips in a mess of breaths you couldn’t seem to steady. It felt dangerous, maybe because this was already the fifth time this month.

“God, you’re loud today,” he mumbled against you, though the way he held you in place made it clear he wouldn’t have it any other way. There was an edge of something heated in his voice, a spark of unspoken emotion that made you wonder if you were losing your mind, or if he felt it too.

And yet, Theo would never admit anything. To him, this was casual, a dangerous game you both pretended to play out of boredom or maybe lust, like it was just one of those strange things that happened between people who didn’t like each other. And it wasn’t supposed to mean anything, right?

You weren’t supposed to find yourself wishing he’d keep his hands on you just a moment longer. But as he glanced up with that familiar cocky smirk and an unreadable glint in his eyes, you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if you asked for more.

Only, you already knew the answer—he’d laugh, probably say something mocking, and pull away.

Or worse, he wouldn’t.

"Shut up," you hissed back, your voice strained with pleasure as his tongue swirled around your clit. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging roughly. "You love it when I'm loud."

It was true, and you both knew it. Every time you did this, every filthy word and wanton moan, it only seemed to fuel his hunger. You could see it in the way he devoured you, like he was starving and you were the only thing that could satiate him.

But that was impossible. This was just sex, nothing more. A way to pass the time, to blow off steam. You fucking hated each other, after all. Or at least, that's what you kept telling yourselves.

When the haze faded and reality settled in, you felt that familiar pang of regret creeping in. This arrangement with Theo always left you feeling raw, shaky. And while you tried to ignore it, the constant sneaking around and the secrecy wore on you more than you’d ever let him know.

“Alright, I should go,” you muttered, barely meeting his gaze as you pushed yourself up, gathering your scattered clothes from around the room.

“Leaving already?” Theo’s voice had that casual, mocking lilt, but there was something colder beneath it. He propped himself up on one elbow, watching you with a look that felt a little too intent. “Got somewhere more important to be?”

“Yes,” you replied, fastening your shirt with sharp, decisive movements. “Actually, I do.” The answer was a little too defensive, a little too true, and you knew he’d pick up on it.

Theo’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he leaned back with a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. “Oh, I see. Out to meet your precious Enzo, I’m guessing?”

The way he said Lorenzo’s name—Enzo, like it was laced with poison—made you bristle. You finished buttoning up your shirt, feeling your stomach twist with anger you didn’t want to admit to. “Not that it’s any of your business,” you replied, keeping your tone cool and detached. “But yes, actually. He’s my best friend, Theo. Not that you’d know what that’s like.”

Theo’s face darkened, though he hid it behind a lazy laugh. “Of course. How convenient for him. Guess he’ll never know how often you come running here before you run to him, will he?”

The accusation in his voice cut deep, and before you could stop yourself, you snapped, “Believe me, you’re the last person I’d brag about.”

Theo’s jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with something dangerously close to hurt. For a moment, he looked like he might argue, but then he just shrugged, the motion stiff and forced. “Right. Well, thanks for reminding me of my place.”

His voice was cold, bitter, and it stung more than you wanted to admit. Theo stood, grabbing his own clothes and starting to dress without looking at you. “Don’t let me keep you, then.”

He turned away from you, reaching for his cigarettes on the nightstand. You watched him light one up, taking a long drag before he spoke again, his voice carefully neutral. “See you around.”

The tension was thick enough to choke on, and for a moment, you thought about staying, about explaining something even you didn’t fully understand. But you forced yourself to look away, heading toward the door before he could see the uncertainty in your expression.

Out in the corridor, the cool air stung, clearing the last remnants of Theo’s touch from your skin. But you hadn’t taken more than a few steps before you froze, your heart stuttering in your chest.

Standing a few feet away, arms crossed and brows raised, was Lorenzo.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice low, his usual warmth replaced with confusion. “What the hell were you doing in there?”

Panic flared in your chest as you struggled to keep your face calm, fumbling for something—anything—to explain. “Oh, um…” You forced a laugh, hoping it sounded more natural than it felt. “Just, uh, tutoring Theo.”

Lorenzo’s eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head, unconvinced. “At eleven o’clock at night?” His tone was skeptical, and he studied your face with a concern that only deepened when he noticed you wouldn’t meet his gaze. “You were tutoring the guy you say you can’t stand?”

Heat crept up your neck as you tried to keep your voice even. “It’s just… well, he needed some help with Charms,” you stammered, giving a weak shrug. “You know how he struggles with it.”

“Since when do you care about his grades?” Lorenzo pressed, eyes narrowing. “Or about anything Nott needs?”

A wave of guilt crashed over you, and you forced yourself to meet his gaze, giving him what you hoped was an exasperated eye-roll. “Lorenzo, it’s not that deep,” you lied, pushing your hands into your pockets to keep them from fidgeting. “He asked for help, and I’m just trying to be… nice.”

Lorenzo stepped closer, his brow furrowed with suspicion. "Come on, don't play dumb with me," he said softly, his tone less accusatory now, but still stern. "I'm not an idiot, Y/N. I know you too well. There's clearly something going on."

He reached out, gently grasping your chin and tilting your face up to force eye contact. "Tell me the truth," he urged, his brown eyes searching yours intensely. "Is there... something between you and him?"

Your heart skipped a beat at the question, and for a moment, you simply stared at him, mouth agape. "What? No!" you finally managed to splutter out, pulling away from his touch. "Absolutely not! I still hate him, alright? I was just doing him a favor. That's all."

But the denial rang hollow, even to your own ears.

Lorenzo held your gaze for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he nodded, but there was a tightness around his eyes that betrayed his skepticism. "Right. Of course. I won't make you talk about it if you don't want to, Y/N," he said quietly. "But I'm not stupid, and I know you better than anyone. So if there's something going on..." He trailed off, shaking his head slightly. "Just... remember who your real friends are, okay?"

You let out a frustrated sigh, tossing your hands up in exasperation. "Look, Enzo, nothing's going on with Theo, alright? It really was just tutoring." You crossed your arms tightly, your jaw set stubbornly. "Can we please just drop it and go to your dorm?”

Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and started walking down the corridor, your shoes snapping sharply against the stone floor. You could feel Lorenzo's eyes boring into your back, could practically hear the gears turning in his head as he tried to puzzle out the truth.

Lorenzo watched you walk away for a long moment, conflict evident on his features. Finally, he sighed heavily and fell into step beside you, his longer strides easily matching your pace. "Fine," he muttered, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "We'll drop it. For now."

The following day passed in a blur, your thoughts clouded with the tension from the night before. Lorenzo’s suspicion lingered in the back of your mind, a constant, nagging weight. You’d brushed it off as best you could, but you knew him too well to think he’d let it go for good.

The party was already in full swing by the time you and Lorenzo arrived, the Slytherin common room buzzing with energy. Music pulsed through the air, mingling with laughter and the faint scent of firewhiskey.

You and Lorenzo found yourselves in a corner of the room, tucked away from the loudest part of the crowd. He had stuck close to your side all evening, his arm brushing against yours occasionally as you moved through the crowd together. 

You were leaning in, listening intently as Lorenzo spun a tale of all the things that went wrong during his Quidditch practice the other day, when it suddenly hit you—the way his breath warmed your ear, the subtle scent of his cologne, the solid warmth of his body pressed against yours. He was so fucking close.

A shiver ran down your spine, and for a moment, you forgot about everything else—the music, the noise, the presence of others nearby.

Lorenzo smiled, his warm brown eyes crinkling at the corners. He took a sip from his cup before he set it down on the edge of the table.

“You know, you’ve been different lately,” he said suddenly, his tone softer, quieter, cutting through the noise around you. His words made you freeze, the playful grin slipping from your face.

“What do you mean?” 

His hand reached up, fingers brushing against your temple as he gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear.  “I mean… you’ve seemed distant,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours, his voice barely above the hum of the music. “Like there’s something you’re not telling me. But I don’t care, Y/N. Whatever it is… I don’t care. I just want you to know I’m here.”

The weight of his words settled heavily in the pit of your stomach, and you blinked up at him, completely caught off guard. Your brain scrambled for something to say, anything to break the tension that had suddenly thickened between you. “Uh, Lorenzo, what—”

But before you could finish, his hands cupped your face, his touch firm but gentle as he leaned in. His lips captured yours in a kiss so sudden and so passionate, it stole the breath from your lungs. His fingers threaded into your hair, pulling you closer as his other hand slipped to your waist, holding you against him like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

You froze for a moment, your mind racing, unable to comprehend what was happening. Lorenzo. Your best friend. Kissing you.

His lips moved against yours with a fervor that made your knees weak, and you felt yourself melting into the heat of him despite the alarm bells ringing in your head.

But the way he kissed you—the way his thumb brushed against your cheek, the heat in his touch—it was impossible to think about anything else. For a split second, you leaned into him, your hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt as if to steady yourself.

Lorenzo broke the kiss abruptly, his chest heaving as he stared at you, his eyes wide and vulnerable. For a long, tense moment, neither of you spoke, the silence heavy with unspoken emotions. Then, he whispered, his voice rough with barely contained need, "God, I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He rested his forehead against yours. “Tell me you don't feel this too, Y/N."

His gaze burned into yours, pleading and desperate, and you could see the fear lurking beneath the surface—that you might reject him, that he'd lose you forever. In that instant, you understood the depth of his feelings for you, the years of pent-up longing that had finally spilled over the edge. 

You stared at him, wide-eyed and utterly speechless, your thoughts a tangled mess of confusion and guilt and something else you didn’t dare name. 

What the hell was happening?

Lorenzo's expression faltered, a flicker of doubt crossing his features as he read your stunned silence. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, taking a step back as if physically recoiling from the rejection.

Before you could even open your mouth to respond, a low, mocking voice cut through the charged silence like a blade.

“Well, Y/N,” Theo drawled, stepping between you and Lorenzo with an expression that could only be described as murderous. “You moved on pretty fucking quick, considering my head was between your legs just last night.”

The words hit like a slap, shattering the fragile bubble that had formed between you and Lorenzo.

Lorenzo stiffened beside you, his gaze snapping to Theo with a mix of disbelief and dawning realization. “What?” he said, his voice low and dangerous. Then, softer, almost to himself, “I knew it. You weren’t just tutoring him.”

“Enzo—” you started, but Theo cut you off, his lips curling into a cruel smirk as he stepped closer, his sharp jawline tight with barely concealed fury.

“Tutoring?” Theo echoed mockingly, raising an eyebrow at you. “Is that what you told him, sweetheart? That’s cute. Really cute.”

You felt like the ground was falling away beneath you. “Theo, stop—”

“No,” Theo snapped, taking another step forward as his eyes flickered to Lorenzo. “No, I’ll tell him the truth since you seem so set on lying. I’ve been fucking her. That’s what we’ve been doing. Not tutoring. Not studying. Fucking.”

Lorenzo’s jaw clenched so tightly you thought it might snap. His hands balled into fists at his sides as he turned to you. “Is that true?” he demanded. “Is he telling the truth, Y/N?”

Your mouth opened, but no sound came out. The words lodged in your throat, choking you.

“Don’t bother answering,” Theo sneered. “She’s not going to deny it. She can’t.”

And that was it. The dam broke. Lorenzo lunged forward, grabbing Theo by the collar of his shirt and yanking him close. “You’re a fucking bastard, you know that?” he snarled, his voice low and venomous.

Theo didn’t flinch. If anything, his smirk widened, infuriatingly smug. “Takes one to know one,” he shot back, his tone almost taunting.

“Stop!” you yelled, stepping forward and trying to wedge yourself between them, but neither boy paid you any mind.

“You’re such a goddamn prick,” Enzo spat, stepping closer until the two boys were nearly nose to nose. “You think this is a joke? You think her feelings are something you can just fuck with?”

“Oh, spare me the self-righteous act,” Theo shot back, his voice venomous. “You’re not exactly subtle, Berkshire. You’ve been panting after her for years, but guess what? She came to me. Not you.”

“She’s not yours,” Lorenzo barked, his voice rising as his grip on Theo’s collar twisted tighter.

“And she’s not yours either,” Theo snapped back, his voice equally loud and filled with venom. “But that didn’t stop you from shoving your tongue down her throat just now, did it?”

“Nott, you should fuckin’ shut your mouth before I make you,” Lorenzo snapped, shoving Theo backward.

Theo stumbled but recovered quickly, his eyes flashing with rage as he stepped closer, his hands curling into fists. “You want to hit me? Go ahead,” he taunted, his voice deadly calm. “But it won’t change the fact that I’ve had her in ways you never will.”

“That’s enough!” you shouted, stepping between them, your hands pressed against Lorenzo’s chest to keep him from lunging at Theo again. “Both of you, stop it! You’re both being ridiculous!”

Lorenzo’s eyes softened slightly as they flickered to you, but his jaw remained clenched, his breathing heavy. “Y/N,” he said, his voice low and strained, “tell me the truth. Is he lying?”

You hesitated, your throat tightening as the weight of their gazes bore down on you.

“Y/N,” Theo said, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “Just tell him. Stop hiding it.”

Your chest tightened, and for a moment, the room seemed to tilt around you. Everything was spiraling out of control, the tension between the three of you threatening to snap like a frayed rope.

“I…” you began, but the words stuck in your throat.

Lorenzo shook his head, his expression twisting with hurt. “I knew it,” he whispered, stepping back. “I fucking knew it.”

“Enzo, wait! I—It’s complicated," you called out, reaching for his arm as he turned to walk away, but he shrugged off your touch.

“Don't," he bit out, his voice tight with pain and anger. "Just...don't."

Lorenzo didn’t look back. His broad shoulders were tense as he stormed away, leaving you rooted to the spot. Your hand fell limply to your side, the sting of his departure cutting deeper than you expected. The noise of the party seemed muted now, distorted, like you were hearing it underwater. The laughter, the music, the chatter—it all felt too far away, irrelevant against the confusion swirling around your head.

In the span of five fucking minutes, your best friend had kissed you, confessed feelings you never saw coming, and then walked away shattered by a truth you hadn’t been ready to admit. The guilt churned in your stomach, thick and nauseating. 

You barely had time to process when Theo’s low, sarcastic voice broke the suffocating silence. “Well, that went well.”

You stood frozen, staring at the floor, your chest heaving as you struggled to process what had just happened—the way Lorenzo’s lips had felt on yours, the raw confession in his eyes, and then the brutal crash as Theo ripped it all apart.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“Y/N?” Theo’s voice broke the haze again, low and gravelly, laced with something that almost sounded like regret.

Your head snapped up, and without thinking, you turned to him, your emotions boiling over. You shoved at his chest with both hands, hard enough to make him take a step back. “Why?” you hissed, your voice trembling with anger and something dangerously close to tears. “Why do you always have to ruin everything?” You shoved him again, harder this time, though it still felt useless against his solid frame. 

Theo caught your wrist as you went to push him again, his grip firm but not harsh. His gray eyes locked onto yours, glinting with something unreadable in the dim light of the room. “Ruin?” he repeated, his voice incredulous. “You think I ruined this? Don’t pin this on me, Y/N. You’re the one playing two sides.”

“I wasn’t playing anything!” you snapped, yanking your arm free and stepping back. The distance felt safer, less suffocating. “I didn’t ask for this—any of it. But you—” You pointed at him, your chest heaving as you fought to steady your voice. “You always have to push and push until everything falls apart!”

His jaw tightened, and something flickered in his eyes—anger, maybe, or hurt. “Falls apart?” he echoed, his voice rising. “You’re the one who came to me, sweetheart. Remember that? You’re the one who wanted this.”

“I wanted simple!” you shot back, your voice cracking under the weight of your frustration. “I wanted no strings, no feelings, no drama! And now look at us! Look at this mess!”

He scoffed, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he stepped closer. “Don’t act like you’re innocent in all this,” he bit out, his voice sharp. “You wanted no strings, but you kept coming back. Over and over. You wanted me, Y/N. Don’t pretend otherwise.”

You shook your head, turning on your heel and pushing your way out of the crowded party. The air in the corridor was cooler, quieter, but your thoughts were anything but calm. Theo’s footsteps followed close behind, the sound of his shoes echoing against the stone walls.

“I’m not letting you walk away like this,” he said, grabbing your arm just gently enough to stop you without forcing you.

You wrenched your arm free, spinning around to face him, your eyes blazing. “Why not? That’s all we’ve ever been good at—walking away from each other.”

His face twisted, a mix of frustration and something deeper, something raw. “That’s not true and you know it,” he said, his voice quieter now. “You’re just angry.”

“Of course I’m angry!” you shouted, throwing your hands up. “I just watched my best friend walk away, probably forever, because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut! And for what, Theo? For what?”

His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but no words came. Instead, he stared at you, his usually sharp eyes clouded with something uncharacteristically vulnerable.

“You know what?” you continued, your voice trembling as tears pricked your eyes. “I’m done. I’m done with this. With you.”

His eyes widened slightly. “What?” he asked, his voice cracking.

“I’m done, Theo,” you said again. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep pretending this doesn’t mean something when it clearly does. And I can’t keep lying to Lorenzo—to myself. So, congratulations, you win. You’ve ruined everything. I hope it was worth it.”

His face fell, the usual sharpness in his expression softening into something almost childlike. “Y/N,” he said, stepping closer, his hands twitching at his sides like he wanted to reach for you but didn’t dare. “You can’t mean that.”

“I do,” you insisted, your voice firmer this time. “I can’t do this anymore. You and me—it’s toxic, Theo. It’s ruining everything.”

You turned to leave, but his hand shot out, grabbing yours. The desperation in his touch made you freeze. For a moment, he just stared at you, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. Then, he spoke, his voice raw and aching. “Please.” The word came out so quiet it was almost drowned out by the distant hum of the party. “Hate me, hurt me,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Just… don’t leave me.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. His words hung heavy in the air, raw and pleading. This wasn’t the Theo you were used to—the cocky, self-assured boy who always had a cutting remark at the ready. This was someone stripped bare, vulnerable in a way that made your heart ache.

“Theo…” you started, but your voice faltered.

“I know we said no strings,” he interrupted, his grip on your hand tightening slightly, like he was afraid you’d slip away. “I know that. But I can’t do it. I can’t watch you walk away and choose him—not when I…” He trailed off, his jaw clenching as he fought to find the words.

You turned fully to face him, your heart pounding painfully in your chest. “Not when you what?” you whispered.

His eyes burned into yours, and for a moment, he looked like he might bolt. But then, with a shaky breath, he stepped closer, his hands trembling slightly as they cupped your face. “Not when I feel like this,” he admitted, his voice barely audible.

You stared at him, your mind reeling. And then he kissed you.

But it wasn’t like the other times—the hurried, rough kisses that left you breathless and wanting more. This kiss was soft, tentative, like he was afraid you might break. His lips moved against yours with a gentleness that made your heart ache, and before you knew it, you were kissing him back, hand shaking like they didn’t know what to do.

The world fell away, the distant music and voices fading until there was nothing but the warmth of him, the way his thumb brushed against your cheek, the quiet, desperate sound he made as he pulled you closer.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breathing ragged. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “For everything.”

You didn’t know what to say—didn’t know how to untangle the knot of feelings in your chest. So you just stood there, letting his touch ground you, wondering how the hell you’d gotten here.

But as you stood there, pressed against Theo's warm, solid body, one thought crystallized above the rest: you needed him.

Now.

"Theo," you murmured. Your eyes locked onto his, searching, pleading. There were no words for what you felt, but you hoped he could read it in your gaze—the hunger, the need, the desperate craving for him.

Theo’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening as they flicked down to your lips and back up again. He could see it—you knew he could. The unspoken need that lingered in the space between you, a silent plea written in the way your fingers trembled against his chest, in the way your breath mingled with his as you leaned closer.  

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice rough, uncertain. It wasn’t a question, not quite, but there was hesitation there, as though he was afraid this would break you both even further.  

You shook your head, barely, just enough to quiet whatever doubt he was wrestling with. “Please,” you whispered, the single word carrying all the weight of everything you couldn’t say. “I need you, Theo.”  

His hands slid down from your face to your waist, his fingers brushing over the curve of your hips as though committing the moment to memory. “Are you sure?” he asked.  

In answer, you tugged at his shirt, your hands fisting the fabric as you leaned up to kiss him again. This time, it wasn’t soft—it was deliberate, intentional, your lips pressing firmly against his as you tried to pour everything you felt into that single moment.  

The kiss deepened slowly, Theo’s hands tightening on your waist as he guided you backward, pressing you against the cool stone wall of the corridor. You broke the kiss, your forehead falling against his as you tried to catch your breath. “Not here,” you whispered, your voice shaky but firm.  

Theo nodded, his chest rising and falling with yours as he tried to calm himself. Without a word, he took your hand, his grip steady and warm as he led you through the dim corridor and up the winding staircase to your dorm.  

The room was quiet, lit only by the soft glow of moonlight streaming through the window. The moment the door closed behind you, the atmosphere shifted. It wasn’t rushed this time, wasn’t driven by the usual frenzied passion that had defined so much of your time together. It was slower, heavier, as though you were both unearthing something you hadn’t realized was buried.  

Theo turned to face you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. But you stepped closer, your hands sliding up his chest and around his neck as you kissed him again, softer this time, but no less urgent.  

He kissed you back with a quiet intensity, his hands settling on your hips as he walked you backward toward the bed. When the backs of your knees hit the edge, he paused, pulling back just enough to look at you.  

“You’re sure?” he asked again, his voice a rasp of barely contained emotion.  

You nodded, your fingers threading through his hair as you pulled him down to you on the bed. “I’m sure,” you said, your voice steady now, laced with a conviction that left no room for doubt.  

Theo followed you down, his weight pressing into you as he kissed you again, and for the first time, it wasn’t about dominance or control. It wasn’t about proving a point or drowning in the fire of your so-called hatred.  

It was about feeling—truly feeling.  

You let out a soft gasp as his hands explored your skin, his touch sending sparks of pleasure racing under your flesh. Your own hands roamed over his back, tracing the contours of his muscles beneath his clothes. You wanted to peel away every layer until you were bare against him, skin to skin, hearts beating as one.

As if reading your mind, Theo reached for the hem of your shirt, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin of your stomach as he lifted it over your head. You arched into his touch, a moan escaping your lips as he tossed the garment aside and leaned in to nuzzle the swell of your tits, his hot breath sending tingles across your nipples.

Theo's mouth hovered over your nipple, his tongue darting out to tease the hardened peak before he closed his lips around it, suckling gently. A low groan rumbled in his throat, vibrating against your skin and making your toes curl.

His hands continued their exploration, sliding down to unfasten your jeans, his fingers brushing against the heat of your core as he pushed the denim and lace down your thighs. You kicked off the pooled fabric, leaving you naked and vulnerable beneath him.

He leaned in to press a tender kiss to your collarbone, then trailed his lips down your sternum, pausing to worship each breast with the same reverence he'd shown earlier.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with emotion.

Your breath caught in your throat at the words, at the raw sincerity in his tone. No one had ever looked at you like that before—like you were a work of art, precious and coveted.

"Theo..." you breathed, your voice trembling with need. "Please..."

He understood without further prompting, his fingers tracing a path down your stomach and dipping lower to find the slick heat of your arousal. He groaned softly at the feel of you, his thumb circling your clit as his middle finger delved inside, seeking out that sweet spot that made you quiver.

"God, you're soaked," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin as he pumped his finger slowly, deliberately, his gaze locked on yours. "Tell me how much you want it."

His other hand cupped your breast, rolling the pebbled nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

Your hips bucked involuntarily as his finger found that perfect spot inside you, stroking along the sensitive wall in a way that made stars burst behind your eyelids. "Oh god, yes," you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders as you ground against his hand.

"I want it so badly," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've never wanted anything more," you begged, your breath coming in short gasps. "I need you inside me."

With a low growl, Theo added a second finger, scissoring them inside you to loosen your tightness. He watched your face intently, drinking in every expression of pleasure, every gasp and moan that fell from your lips.

"Not yet," he said, his voice rough with restraint. "I want to make sure you're ready for me."

He curled his fingers just right, rubbing that magic spot within you, and you came undone, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave. You cried out, your body shaking with the force of it, your inner walls clenching around his fingers.

Through it all, Theo held you close, his lips pressed to your temple, his breath hot against your skin. "That's it," he cooed, "let go for me, baby. I've got you."

Shudders wracked your body as the aftershocks of your climax rippled through you, leaving you limp and spent. But Theo wasn't done with you yet. He withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty and aching for more.

Before you could even catch your breath, he was moving, shrugging off his shirt to reveal the toned expanse of his chest. Your gaze drifted over the defined muscles, feeling a wave of desire surge through you.

Not waiting for permission, he quickly shed his pants, kicking them aside carelessly. And then he was looming over you, his eyes blazing with hunger. “Wrap those pretty legs around me.”

Without hesitation, you complied, hooking your ankles together and lifting your hips to meet him. The head of his cock nudged against your entrance, teasingly slow, as if savoring the moment before finally sinking home in one smooth thrust.

A guttural moan tore from his throat at the feeling of your tight heat enveloping him, and he stilled for a moment, reveling in the sensation. Then, with a roll of his hips, he began to move, setting a sweet pace that had your eyes rolling back.

It was a slow, unhurried rhythm, unlike all the times before. This time, it wasn’t about the heat or the hunger—it was about the connection, the way his name fell from your lips like a prayer, the way he whispered yours back like a promise.  

Time seemed to blur, the lines between where you ended and he began dissolving until there was nothing left but the two of you, tangled together in the quiet of the night as he devoured  your mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue claiming you as thoroughly as his cock did your pussy.

Theo broke the kiss to gaze down at you, his eyes burning with an intensity that seared right through to your soul. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice thick with emotion. "I want to look you in the eyes when I make you cum. You know why? Because this means you’re fucking choosing me.”

Your fingers tightened in his hair as you met his stare, the connection between you electrifying. With a final, powerful thrust, he pushed you over the edge, and you shattered, crying out his name as waves of ecstasy crashed over you.

When it was over, Theo stayed close, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath. He didn’t say anything—neither of you did. Words felt unnecessary, almost intrusive in the fragile intimacy that had settled over you both.  

But as his hand brushed over your cheek, his thumb tracing lazy circles against your skin, you felt the truth of it in the way he looked at you. Whatever this was between you, it wasn’t hatred. It never had been.  

And that realization scared you more than anything.  

But a loud, abrupt knock at the door shattered the stillness.  

You shot up, your heart pounding as reality came crashing back in. “Shit,” you whispered, scrambling to pull on your clothes. Theo sat up too, his brow furrowed in confusion, but he didn’t move to stop you. Instead, he leaned back on his elbows, watching silently as you tugged a large sweater over your head, your hair still a mess from his hands.  

The knock came again, more insistent this time. “Y/N?” Lorenzo’s voice called through the door, muffled but unmistakable.  

Your stomach dropped.  

Theo’s gaze darkened, his jaw tightening as he realized who it was. “You don’t have to answer,” he said quietly, his voice calm but firm.  

But you did. You had to.  

Without another word, you crossed the room, your heart racing as you opened the door just enough to step out, closing it quickly behind you. Lorenzo stood there, his face a storm of emotions—regret, frustration, and something achingly close to hope.  

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out before you could speak, his words tumbling over themselves in his rush to get them out. “I shouldn’t have walked away like that. I should’ve let you explain, I should’ve stayed.”  

“Enzo—” you started, but he cut you off.  

“No, let me finish,” he said, taking a step closer. “I blamed you, and I shouldn’t have. I was just... I don’t know. I was hurt, okay? And I know that’s not fair to you. You’ve always been honest with me, and I—I just...” He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration with himself evident.  

You stood frozen, your back pressed against the door, every word he said digging deeper into your chest.  

“And I shouldn’t have waited this long to tell you how I feel. Merlin, Y/N, I love you. I’ve loved you for longer than I can even admit to myself. And I know it’s a mess now, but I could’ve… should’ve told you sooner.” His voice cracked, his usual smooth confidence faltering as his eyes searched yours.

Your throat tightened as you opened your mouth to try and speak, but he kept going, his words spilling out faster now, desperate to fill the silence.

“I should be the one you’re with. I should’ve been braver, I should’ve fought for you. But I didn’t, and I—I just... I want to be with you,” he continued, his eyes searching yours desperately. “I know we’re friends, but we could be so much more, Y/N. I know we could.”  

The silence that followed felt deafening.  

It was only then that Lorenzo seemed to really see you—the disheveled sweater pulled hastily over your bare skin, your hair still tangled, your lips swollen. His eyes widened, the realization crashing over him like a wave.  

“Y/N...” he said slowly, his voice filled with dawning heartbreak. “Is someone... Are you...?” He didn’t finish the question, but he didn’t have to.  

You couldn’t bring yourself to lie. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer, either.  

His face crumpled, and he let out a bitter, hollow laugh. “It’s him, isn’t it? Theo.”  

“Enzo, I’m—”  

“No,” he interrupted, holding up a hand. “Just don’t say anything.” His voice cracked, and for a moment, he looked like he might break completely. But then he straightened, his jaw tightening as he forced himself to meet your eyes. “It was never going to be me, was it?”  

“Lorenzo—” You tried to reach for him but he just flinched, shaking his head.

“Stop,” he said sharply, though the crack in his voice betrayed him. He looked away, blinking rapidly, as though trying to compose himself. “I get it now. I was always the safe option. The one who’d never hurt you. But I was never the one you wanted.”

“That’s not fair,” you said, your voice trembling. “You’re my best friend, Enzo. I love you, I do, but…”

“Not like that,” he finished for you, his tone sharp with bitter acceptance. “You don’t love me like that.”  

You reached for him again, but he stepped back, out of reach. “Stop,” he said again, his voice soft now, almost broken. “I’ll just... I’ll see you around, Y/N.”  

The silence that followed was unbearable, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a physical force. You wanted to say something, anything, to fix the fissure cracking between you, but no words came.

He nodded, his jaw tightening as he forced a bitter smile. “I hope he’s worth it,” he said quietly, turning on his heel before you could stop him.

You watched him go, your chest aching as his figure disappeared down the hall. The sting of his words lingered, cutting deeper than you’d anticipated. 

Closing the door behind you, you leaned against it, your heart pounding as you tried to steady your breathing.

“Y/N?”

Theo’s voice, soft and uncertain, pulled you from your thoughts. He was sitting up now, the sheet draped low over his waist as he watched you with an intensity that made your knees weak.

You crossed the room, collapsing onto the bed beside him. His hand found yours, his fingers lacing through yours, grounding you.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

You shook your head, resting your forehead against his shoulder. “Don’t be. I chose this. I chose you.”

And despite the heartbreak, the guilt, the mess of emotions swirling inside you, you knew it was true. Lorenzo had your friendship, your loyalty, your love in ways you couldn’t deny—but Theo? Theo had your heart.

And no matter how much it hurt, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it.

(apologies to my enzo lovers <3)

[ivysangel]

imagine the sexual tension between you and college au!jason and y’all finally take care of it during a one-night stand at some random ass party and the TENSION ONLY GETS WORSE ⁉️ like first y’all were ignoring how bad y’all wanted to fuck each other and NOW you have to act like he wasn’t just devouring your pussy a few nights ago

-🦦

tutor!jason who your teacher sets you up to study with twice a week since he's acing the class. the first time you meet, it's in the library, and you almost sit down next to a different guy because jason doesn't look at all like the type to know the ins and outs of gothic lit. if he wasn't nose-deep in mary shelley's frankenstein you would've assumed he was a jock doing recon and looking for some pussy.

but he's not; he's actually really kind and smart and also really fucking hot. your tutoring sessions go on longer than scheduled because you spend more time staring at him than you should. you're actually kind of embarrassed about it until you catch him staring at you one day with a familiar look, one you'd given him many, many times when he wasn't looking.

from then on, things are pretty tense between you two, not in an angry kind of way, but more of an unprecedented level of horniness kind of way. and the growth of your friendship is temporarily stunted because of how badly you want to fuck each other.

but it all comes to a head at some dumb frat party. you're a little buzzed but still lucid enough to know that jason's out of place in this environment. he hates frats, hates the culture around it, hates the fact that he gets mistaken for one so often.

so why the fuck is he flirting with some random sorority girl who's trying way too hard to keep his attention. you're thinking to yourself, "he's not gonna fuck you." but you're not actually 100% sure about that, so you find your way over to him just in case.

his attention immediately shifts to you and little miss greek row makes herself sparse when she realizes his eyes are locked on you and only you.

you're making conversation, but it's kind of awkward; you were clearly green with envy over the prospect of him fucking someone else despite having no claim to him or his dick, and now you were just hitting him with a "sooooo fancy seeing you here!" and he's just looking at you; peering down at you with this look in his eyes that just so dark. unlike anything you've seen on his face before. and then he's finishing off his drink and asking if you want to go somewhere quieter.

ok, so boom. he's leading you up the stairs and into an empty room, and if either of you were sober or not blinded by an intense need to fuck the other, you probably wouldn't have hooked up on some frat guy's unwashed sheets.

and using "hook up" is generous because you're the only one that got anything out of it. he was pretty much hiking your dress up to eat you out before the door was fully closed, and he continued to stay there, between your legs, with his mouth sucking on your clit until someone knocked on the door and killed the vibe. #jasontoddcertifiedmunch

you thought the tension before was bad, but it gets so much worse. you start skipping your tutoring sessions, and the few you do show up to end early because you can barely look at him. you can't get the image of him licking his lips after eating you out out of your head, and it was beginning to drive you insane. 

he was also going insane, but for a different reason. while you were scared that it ruined your friendship, he was craving you more and more with each passing day, wondering where you'd be if you'd gone all the way. he was on the verge of knocking out the teeth of the asshole that interrupted you and shooting you a "u up?" text in the middle of the night.

[bunny-jpeg]

Hi bunny I have an idea

What if reader and lando lowk hate each other and are rivals but one night at vegas they wake up after being blackout drunk married and they only have photos (a bit like the hangover movie) and then they get a flashback of everything with a fruitcake, crostata, cranberry juice and coffee plss thanksss bunny !

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want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! there are tons of items to check out, thank you so much for those who have submitted, these have been a lot of fun to make. i really love this concept so thank you for putting it in front of my eyes! i hope you enjoy <3

fruitcake: "i'll make tonight special." + crostata: “stupid slut, this is what you wanted huh? wanted me to fuck you like i hate you.” + cranberry juice: mean!character + coffee: rivals served by lando norris (formula one)!!

tags: smut/pwp, rivals au, driver!reader, drinking, drunk marriage, hate sex, mean!lando,

light streamed through the large windows in your hotel room. your eyes cracked open and your mouth felt instantly dry. your lips couldn't form words as you just groaned. you were no stranger to hangovers, but when you turned away from the evil sun, your cheek collided with something firm. someone firm. it was a body, your eyes open wider. you looked to see who was the mystery man in your bed.

while you were expecting some babe from the strip. you instead saw a sleeping lando norris.

and when you recoiled away from you and put your hand over your mouth, you noticed something even more terrifying. you had a gold band on your left hand.

it started over drinks, you could see lando from across the bar as you leaned back into your seat. your teammate followed your gaze. not this again.

lewis had the displeasure of hearing almost all of your drunken rants about lando. he knew very intimately how much you loathed, but also wanted lando. he was your proper rival. while the rivalry wasn't the more fierce in the history of formula one, he wanted you to just get over your stubbornness and sleep with the mclaren driver to get over the tension.

"i hate him." you sighed, "he walks around the paddock like he has the biggest cock."

"and how would you know his cock isn't the biggest?" lewis laughed which spurred you to laugh.

"well, c'mon. we all know that my cock is the biggest. in a metaphorical sense anyway... but it takes big balls to be the only female driver. gotta keep up with the boys." you laughed and winked at your teammate.

lewis chuckled, "can't argue with that." then took a sip of his (non alcoholic) drink. he watched you look over at the mclearn drivers at the other end of the bar. while oscar gave a wave, lando glared at you.

you made a face before you took another sip of your cocktail, "he doesn't act like that with anyone else. he is practically running max off the track and he is still more friendly than with me. maybe he hates women." the alcohol was flooded in your brain and your tonuge felt looser.

your teammate laughed, "right, right. he hated woman." he watched you ramble. an unintentional plus side to not drinking was that he got to be the sober person in the room when fellow drivers spilled their guts over drinks. eventually he said, "i think you need to talk to him."

and you were so drunk at that point you took hew advice and got up on shaky legs. you started to make your way over to lando, which shocked lewis. you never took his advice like that. he also knew that he wasn't going to be seeing you for the rest of the night.

he looked around for a moment before he took another sip of his drink. he hoped that you didn't get into too much trouble tonight. and made a mental note to check in on you in the morning. someone could get into heaps of trouble in a place like las vegas.

you don't know this happened or what you said. but lando was soon in your room with his large hands all over you. you groaned at his touch and he wanted to devour you whole. you wanted the same for him.

"i'll make tonight special." he said as he got you out of your mercedes branded t-shirt. and eyed your breasts.

"never seen tits before, norris? i thought you went through women like pairs of socks." you laughed before lando pushed you further up against the wall.

he chuckled lowly, "you like getting me mad, huh? you like driving me up the fucking wall. stupid slut, this is what you wanted, huh? you wanted me to fuck you like i hate you." lando then groaned, he pinned you to the wall, "you're such a whore. i bet you keep toto's bed nice and warm during the off season."

"fuck, shut up. you basically are between the legs of zak any time he asks. like a fucking dog." you bit back before lando kissed you once more.

the months of feuding had come to a head. as lando continued you to mark up your breasts before he took your bra off. he hungrily licked his lips and groaned a little.

the bed seemed far and you ended up on the couch. both of you were stripped naked, your flushed body on display for him as you straddled his waist and he held on to your hips like you two had done this a million times. you moved well together.

"i thought you were a virgin because you never put out. turned out you're a proper whore." your moan only spurred him on as he pushed himself inside of your achy cunt. he felt you in such an intimate way.

"i'm not a whore" you groaned as you fully seated yourself onto his cock.

he gripped you by the ass and replied, "there's no shame in being a whore. especially my whore. don't worry, i won't throw you away. nah, i'm keeping you." he groaned as he started to fuck you. and you felt the flood of pleasure in your body.

you had to admit, lando made you feel good. there was something about how it made you feel that made you move faster. damn lando norris, damn him.

his kisses got hotter the more you both rutted against each other.

"you feel like heaven. the hottest piece of ass on the track." he groaned, "you're always trying to be the best, but i know you well enough. fuck you drive me crazy!"

you asked, "is that why you hate me?" you felt the pleasure pair with the liquor in your system. it all clouded your mind.

"could never actually hate you." he groaned, "i'd bully and tease you. but that's because i want you so badly. spent so many nights jerking off to the thoughts of you." his breathing became heavier, "wanted to fuck you in front of the grid. i wanted you all to myself." his tone was hungry, but his words were true. he needed you. you had invaded his thoughts.

"fuck, lando." the haze of it all kept you moving. there was a painful heat between you. it was unlike anything you felt before with anyone else. sex was fun with others, but with lando it was a deep need.

he excited you sexually, just as he ddi on the track. you two kissed once more and lando moaned against your lips. youmoved faster, you could feel his cock hit against your softest areas. and you felt heaven on earth. and as you climaxed, the feeling was closely compared to winning a grand prix.

"fuck.' he groaned as you came. you kissed once more and practically melted against him. he gripped your hips tightly.

you continued to fuck him through your orgasm. and by the time he finished inside of you, you had marked up his shoulders with your nails because he made you finish for a second time.

when you slowed to a stop, you rested against his toned chest. he wrapped an arm around you and gave you a lazy kiss on the mouth.

he groaned when he pulled away, "fuck it. i'm keeping you. let's get married." there were a lot of ways to get into trouble in las vegas.

-

you laid in bed beside a sleeping lando. you looked at your wedding ring in shock. it only made the hangover worse. you had no recollection of most of the night, you remembered being intimate. but no details about your wedding.

your phone rang and you reached for it. you picked it up and heard lewis' voice on the other end, "good morning mrs. norris."

you sat up in bed and the throb in your head got worse. "how did you know? jesus christ." you said as you got out of bed to have this conversation in the bathroom.

"i mean, you sent me photos of your wedding. didn't take you as someone who wanted to be married by an elvis impersonator. how drunk were you last night?"

you closed the bathroom door and looked into the mirror. and saw all the marks lando left you the night prior. you said, "i couldn't tell you... i remember nothing."

"well they already updated your name on the track for next weekend." lewis laughed, "i'd suggest your change it on your track id, don't want any problems, mrs. norris."

"you hate me, lewis. you want me dead."

lewis replied, "not as much as toto wants you dead. have fun with your husband, let me know if you're flying to qatar with him or not."

when the call ended, you looked through your photos. you got married to lando norris. your rival. you felt your stomach dropped when you saw all the photos. the bathroom door opened and you were face to face with your husband.

you looked at one another in shock. you looked down at the photo on the phone screen. it was you in a short white number and lando in a white button up and tan slacks. you had no memory of this.

your hands shook as you showed him the photo. there was a silence between you two. before you could say anything, you jumped as you phone rang once more.

your stomach twisted when you saw the caller id. it was your boss, toto wolff. <3

[emmafrostyyy]

y'all sleeping on Astarion/Lae'zel bc this moment is so...the way the flippant demeanor drops and he doesn't hesitate to call her out for sticking with her version of Cazador like their relationship is so underrated fr...

sitting down writing this bullshit like let me peel it like an onion a bit and elaborate why this pairing is fascinating to me

It's really interesting how during the most cathartic, life-altering moment in Astarion's questline, the reactions of the other companions are more about the moral wrongness/guilt of sacrificing innocent lives. Lae'zel doesn't do that and instead relates to his hurt.

She knows what's he's feeling, the lack of control, the unfairness of being powerless for too long. This is a woman who just found out her entire life purpose was built on lies, discarded and hunted by her own people after outliving her usefulness, and groomed to basically die for an insane power-hungry lich queen. She knows all too well that power isn't always real freedom. Her first instinct is to empathize with Astarion to steer him away from his hate and resentment.

Astarion/Lae'zel is so interesting to me because they're such a classic "can we make each other worse or make a better person out of the other?".

They both have genuine appreciation for violence and respect each other's ruthlessness. Astarion was used as a weapon of seduction while Lae'zel was of warfare. Sex with people is meaningless and not real intimacy for them, and while both have little understanding/experience of interpersonal relationships beyond the physical, they still feel and love very deeply. They have no frame of reference for things like friendship and warmth, but they badly want all of that and more, even if they don't know it yet.

In-game they can sleep with each other, which is basically the foundation of the normal Tav/Astarion romance. Lae'zel saw him during combat and got horny, who knows. Astarion who's used to luring people with his charms, takes up Lae'zel's blunt offer because she's a strong hardened warrior that can provide protection and be a worthy ally, and he doesn't know how to say no. Navigating the complications between one who wants to be seen beyond as a sex object, and one who comes from a totally alien culture with no concept of love/family/connections and only sex is honestly really compelling to me. It's a transactional, mutually beneficial thing with no emotional expectations. Once you get past the skeevy rockiness of their early relationship, I really like the idea of them slowly seeing something past the exterior and realizing they may have harshly misjudged the other, an unspoken friendship blooms, and in comes the realization that they are essentially loners longing for kindness and a comforting touch in the most desperate of situations.

Lae'zel is prideful, direct, has no sense of courtship talk, and doesn't hold back her thoughts the slightest--she's not sweet/agreeable and what you see is really what you get, which I imagine would be disarming for Astarion who's used to vacuous flattery and has difficulty trusting others. But she's also insanely protective, passionate, loyal, and an initiator-- every romance scene is triggered by her first and she's always showing effort towards her relationships, which would mesh well with Astarion who does need someone to nudge him.

She doesn't purposely suppress her feelings, she's just simply at loss at how to express them sometimes due to her wildly different upbringing. She stops the sparring match you agree to and an easy vulnerability slips instantly out of her: "I don't want to hurt you. I want to protect you, and for you to protect me." and "Thus far I've taunted you, devoured you, battled you. Now I want more than anything to soothe you." are romantic as fuck and Astarion of all people really needs to hear that tbh.

Astarion is also someone who struggles with reinforcing his boundaries, and a key theme in Lae'zel's romance is that she encourages and wants you to challenge her and learn to stand your ground. It's not gentlest method, but hey, relationships are about having to make an effort to learn each other's language.

I think he also would take pleasure "educating her on the matters of Fay-run" (I believe there's a whole banter with him teasing her and teaching her pet names) and would get a kick out of coaxing Lae'zel out of her shell with her shyness at showing public affection, and making her blush. Also it simply would be fucking funny to see Astarion who's used to easy seduction, trying to pass a persuasion check just to get a smooch and generally having to work to earn regular kisses from Lae'zel lmfaooo

Lae'zel also initially struggles to see her chains as chains. When she learns about Vlaakith's betrayal, she copes instantly through denial and shuts it down. Astarion is NOT having it and calls her out, he knows her well enough to recognize that she would value blunt honesty above all.

I imagine he also despises her lack of self-preservation, the way her entire identity is tied to duty and being in service of others, and doesn't understand her desire to still help/liberate the people that want her dead and are hunting her down. He wants to make this duty-bound soldier realize that looking out for herself, and putting herself first may not be the worst thing in the world.

They're so similar to each other but are also polar opposites in some ways that make a more equal, balanced romance I think. It's not a simple, one-sided, feel-good "she/he can fix her/him" fantasy because both of them have to earn each other's love, actually cut through the other's flaws, and actively motivate each other to be better versions of themselves.

They're not at all the other's ideal guiding hand. It's rough, jagged, and imperfect, but that's how healing goes. It's so far from being the healthiest relationship -- but even if their belief systems differ, their moral compass does often align. I imagine it's a slight relief for them to have a partner where there would be less shame and judgment when they expectedly, occasionally slip up and fall into their bad habits.

Also, man, the "You showed me the betweens and beyonds. Beyond war and peace, beyond passion and obsession, most importantly, you showed me freedom.", "First you were my wound, now you were my cure.", "But you saw something else in me - someone else I could be. Someone who could break the cycle of power and terror that started centuries ago.." lines really hit hard when applied to them.

Of course, they can also make each other worse, feed into the other's negative traits that will bring out the worst part of themselves. It's this duality of their pairing that is very interesting to explore, the way it can steer in either direction because it's an intense, fraught relationship at its core.

[leah-lover]

Second chances. Alexia putellas x coach!reader.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

summary : the confrontation between alexia and R.

Alexia always had a hold on you. Her stare would often captivate you and suck the air out of each room you were in. being stuck with her in the physio room, her muscular thighs on full display, was your worst nightmare. Her eyes seemed to devour every part of you and yours couldnt shy away from doing the same. There you both were 4 years after that night still looking at each other like nothing mattered in the world but the person in front of you. Your heart made it  its purpose to quickly remind you of the gaping hole she left in it. You remembered the amount of tears she drew from your eyes, and the delay she caused to your success and career. You shifted in your seat and looked away from her. You reminded yourself that the person in front of you wasn't  the love of your life anymore but the one that destroyed you. 

“ You don't know how many times I imagined us talking like this. I planned this speech many times but now that i have to do it i can't recall a word.” she says breaking the silence. Her voice was shaky which wasn't something you were used to. You hardly ever saw alexia nervous and fidgety which was interesting to witness. You didn't say a word though. You kept your composure as you always did and let her speak her mind. 

“ uhmm. I am sorry. I know that i fucked up really badly. I shouldn't have acted like that that night. I should have fought for you. Fought for us. I should have reprimanded Irene and done everything in my power to help keep us together but I was a coward. I chose the easy road. You don't know how sorry I am. I regret everything and if  I could go back I would stop you from leaving or leave with you.” 

You fantasized many times about what alexia would say if she was to apologize. What you dreamt of sounded like what she said but coming from her it didn't sound as satisfying as would have hoped. It  only made you angrier. You tried to keep your composer because it was your default setting. Your face was as emotionless as you could have it but your blood was boiling in your veins. You waited for her to add something but she didn't. . she was shaking and her eyes were glued on you. 

Realizing that she was done you got up to leave. She quickly hurried to your side. “ So you won't say anything?” she asked, nervousness clear in her voice. “ I said I would hear you out and I did.”  you respond with a monotone voice. 

“ Please say something.” she pleaded. 

“ What do you want me to say? You want me to say that you are forgiven. You are not. You destroyed me and for that I will hate you forever.” 

“ You don't mean that.” 

“ I don't mean what? The part where I said you destroyed me or the part where I said I hate you.” your voice was undermining and insulting which made her body visibly tense. 

“ I was in love with you and you chose you before me. You chose your career before me. You chose your family and friends before me. And what?  you think i am sorry and I regret everything would make me forgive you and come back to you.” you voice and body language were cruel. You laughed at her, undermined her presence and belittled her just with your tone. You saw her shrink before your eyes. You didn't mean to or maybe you did. But the image in front of you made your heart ripe.

“ I was dead without you. I couldnt breath, sleep, or eat. I thought that you would come after me and tell me that I am to you worth more than some stupid trophies or a legacy. I thought that you wanted to continue your life with me and that that night was just a mistake But you didn't. You left me alone and unemployed. You ruined me. You broke me. I had to learn how to breathe again. I had to learn how to sleep in my bed alone. I had to train my brain not to think about you  and not to try and hold out hope that you wanted me. You made me feel unloved and undeserving of everything.” you saw tears escape her eyes and stain red cheeks. 

“ I am stupid. I don't deserve you or  a second chance. But I can't help but miss you and need you. All I have is this stupid job and my memories of you. I replay them every night before I go to bed. I replay how my lips  felt on yours and how your head felt on my chest.  I should have come after you and told you that I love you more than anything but my ambition stood in the way. I thought that my career and the approval of my family  would fill the void in my heart but I was wrong. I love you. “ 

You two stood there with your hearts laid bare. You know how she felt and she knew how you felt. 

“ After all this time I love you too alexia.” you took a deep breath and you saw her eyes light up. “ But I can't trust you. I went through so much pain and anger. I don't think that I am capable of moving past it to be with you.” you swiped her tears away with your thumbs and gave her a quick peck on her lips. She didn't fight back, she wanted more but you stepped away from her and left the room. 

As soon as the door closed behind you tears streamed down your face as you ran away from the hallway. 

You were the last one to board the bus. You saw a glimpse of alexia whose head was lying on mapi's shoulder. Her eyes were puffy, her cheeks were red and your heart was no longer able to keep your feelings for her dormant. Two voices were screaming at you. One was reminding you of how much you love her and the other reminding you of how much she hurt you. You put on your headphones to try and drown out the noise that tortured you. 

Midnight found you awake, the image of alexia’s crying face was burned into your memory. A knock on your door stopped you from cursing yourself for thinking about going back to her. When you opened the door you found Irene in front of you. 

“ Can I come in?” she asked. You stepped aside to let her in. 

“ I am a jerk.” she stated. “ Yeah you are.” you responded. 

 “ You haven't done anything to hurt me but I have done everything to hurt you. I was young, jealous, and angry. Everything that happened was on me and it was my fault. And for that I apologize. I knew that night that it would hurt you and get you to leave so I did it. I was a child jealous that her best friend found love and she didn't. I am not excusing my behavior which was wrong. I am giving you a much needed apology.” 

“ Thank you.” you respond. 

“ alexia loves you. She is deeply in love with you.” 

“ Irene, stop.” you interrupt her. 

“ She truly loves you and she truly is sorry for everything. She would do anything to be with you again. She was a mess when you left. That's why I didn't want you to take the job. I knew how much she had gone through and how much she still loves you. And when I looked at you I saw that you too still loved her. In  an effort to save my friend I was rude to you. Hate me but please try to find the will to forgive her.” 

You didn't know what to do with what she told you. Your heart was burning for Alexia and you knew now that hers yearned for you too. 

You pick up your phone and look at her contact. Will you forgive her or shut her out again?