#wanted to make the assumption she didn’t want to be wrong

[luvth0t]

SLUT! ━ C.L

based off ‘slut!’ by taylor swift

or

in which you work in a man’s world, and loving your competitor is a lot more damning for you than charles.

warnings; smut, driver!reader, themes of sexism and misogyny and touches on inequality, angst, lotta tension tbh, she’s kinda long, unprotected sex, overstimulation, praise, degradation like once, public sex, jealousy and maybe a bad friend reader if u squint, haas suck, manifested monaco win for charles :p

lovelorn and nobody knows

love thorns all over this rose,

i’ll pay the price, you won’t

you’d overcome enough challenges in your life.

you’d constantly proven everyone wrong, do what those said you can’t ━ every step and move you made was met with criticism instead of praise. doubt instead of belief.

you found a way. you broke the records, created your own more so. first modern day female f1 driver, and you didn’t intend to be the last.

haas wasn’t where you wanted to be, and while most expected you to be happy with just having a seat; that’s not why you were here. you didn’t fall in love with the sport to just become a driver.

you wanted to win. podiums, wins, championships. like the other 19 drivers ━ you all wanted the same thing.

for some reason you were the only one who got laughed at when speaking on such wants.

but you got used to the laughter, to the unamused or unimpressed journalists ━ this was a man’s world.

that didn’t scare you as a 14 year old girl, and it wouldn’t scare you now.

all these challenges and obstacles that you overcame, all the doubt and hate you shook off; yet there was a certain something you just couldn’t shake.

certain someone more so.

it killed you inside that a man of all things could cause you so much grief, so much internal conflict.

for some reason when it came to charles, you just couldn’t resist. putting your career first, which you’d done all your life, suddenly became difficult.

you didn’t show it, you also weren’t too hard on yourself. it was unfair to be in this position in the first place. to have to be so aware of your relation to the driver, any other drivers of that matter, was a circumstance only you found yourself in.

friendships and banters amongst any other pairings on the grid was adored; snatched up by social media and cameras.

your friendships caused headlines and unwanted press apparently.

it was something you picked up on quickly, the obsession of romance and the assumption that you wanted to sleep with every damn man you raced alongside.

you laughed at it, spoke down on such thing; then didn’t give it any of your time.

until suddenly the rumours were true; charles leclerc had somehow weaselled his way past every barrier and wall you put up.

it wasn’t something you accepted quickly. and once you caught wind of your stupid little heart and it’s fondness of the monegasque you were quick to try put the friendship and it’s entirety six feet under.

this worked, for a few months.

charles had been confused ━ under the assumption you two were at the bare minimum friends. as good as friends as two drivers could get at least. then suddenly you avoided him as if he was carrying the plague.

he couldn’t question it however; it’d be pathetic. to ask you why you refused to meet his eyes in press conferences and drivers briefings anymore.

why you avoided whatever side of the drivers parade truck he was on. why you couldn’t spare him more than a ‘hello’ in passing these days.

he interacted less with other drivers, and didn’t question them. so he couldn’t question you.

las vegas however, was your downfall.

drinking was unavoidable ━ daniel had made you promise to go out with him the moment you congratulated him on his return; and if it hadn’t been him, you knew someone would’ve of.

with daniel, there was max. that was fine; you got on well with max.

then there were talks lando would make it out, despite having gone to hospital; you knew a couple other drivers would also be in the same club you were. an entry fee so high, everyone around you was oozing importance and wealth.

it shouldn’t have surprised you when suddenly charles appeared at an already drunk daniel’s side; loud laughter and murmurs of a prior vegas trip giving you enough time to down your drink in preparation to be in his presence.

you couldn’t run, not when stood in a group of four; silver slip dress doing little to allow you to blend in with the crowd around you.

you felt his gaze on you before your eyes met his, almost as if it was causing heat on your skin ━ demanding you to look at him.

his eyes had met yours with a slight twinkle, slightly hooded and telling you that he too had enough alcohol running in his veins; and the lazy smile he flashed you had your own lips curving upwards with little resistance.

it was embarassing the way your cheeks went a tint of pink as you watched him weave around daniel who was now speaking to max, too engrossed in a story to care about the way charles moved him out of the way, to stand next to you.

immediately you were aware of his hand finding the small of your back as your body became aware of the closeness of him, breath getting caught in your throat as he leant down towards your ear.

“you look incredible,” the compliment was genuine; the smile accompanying his words rendering you unable to find room to complain.

suddenly it was too hot in here. you’d like to blame the alcohol, or the stuffy club. but the man to your left was the only reason you suddenly craved fresh air.

“thank you,” you hummed, not creating distance between the pair of you despite the idea crossing your mind. he was too close, you should step away. but his cologne smelt incredible. and his hand was still lingering on your back lightly.

his smile only grew at your response, having expected you to wiggle away and disappear into the crowd.

the conversation was harmless, it always had been; but speaking with charles was just a reminder that he was one of the good ones.

he’d only ever been kind to you; kind to everyone. one of the first to speak with you like any other driver, speak about racing and your careers without undermining you.

the more time you spent with him the more clear it became that he was flawless. and oh so tempting.

maybe you would’ve ended the conversation when daniel gave you an out, interrupting the pair of you. but it was with shots on a tray next to him.

three shots later and the four of you were all cringing, scrambling to find chasers; charles offering you a lime that you quickly took ━ managing to squirt lime juice everywhere but your mouth.

it had the pair of you erupting into giggles, your hands quickly landing on his shirt which was now speckled in droplets.

“i’m so sorry!” you exasperated, only now becoming aware of the way you were struggling to stand up straight. using his chest to balance you momentarily.

he wasn’t doing any better, telling you it was fine through his own laughter; his hand lifting to your face ━ thumb brushing a few droplets off your cheek as he too swayed side to side.

your eyes met, both drunken and amused ━ and suddenly all rational thoughts had left your body.

“we need another.” you declared, hand grasping around his forearm; watching as his lips parted to disagree. but he couldn’t. a good time too tempting to resist right now.

max and daniel were long forgotten as you weaved through the crowd to the bar to sought after shots of your own; unable to identify the moment your hands had taken grasp of each other.

it was a fun two hours; innocent as well, flirtatious maybe but his hand didn’t stoop lower than your back ━ drinks consistently being poured; drivers, personnel, sponsors and fans rotating through. but you didn’t leave charles side.

you weren’t on edge either, not thinking about the what ifs. about tomorrow or the next week. just enjoying the moment.

time had gone incredibly quickly. you lost track of how many hours had been spent at the bar, how many drinks you’d downed.

charles too, until you were leaning further and further into his side. his intake stopped the moment he realised you were now struggling to stand straight.

the thought entered his mind to find a member of your team, haas or personal, to help you get you to your room soon.

he was drunk, there was no doubt about it. but he was attempting to sober up in your presence.

when you spilt a drink over the bar however, he took responsibility and declared your night was over.

it was a struggle, as his hands clasped around your arms and attempted to push you towards the exit ━ quickly realising he too was struggling to walk straight.

he’d managed however, getting you into the back of his drivers car not as easy with you dropping your phone. then him his wallet, resulting in drunken giggles and mumbles as you finally got buckled in and situated.

most of the car ride was filled with you rambling, charles more than happy to let you speak. he’d missed hearing from you ━ even if he could barely make sense and keep up with your story.

it wasn’t until you were stumbling in the hotel, through the underground entrance thankfully, and into the elevator that there was moments of silence.

you leaned back against the wall, watching as charles pressed the buttons. admiring more so, head titled aside as you gazed over the ferarri driver.

only then did you realise you shouldn’t be in this position. because all you wanted to do was get your hands on him. admire him up close, the distance of the elevator a rude difference to how the night had been spent.

your arms reached upwards, practically beckoning him over; and with an amused smile he easily fell into place ━ approaching you as his hand pressed against the wall beside your head, eyebrows raising upwards in curiosity as he peered down at you.

your arms wrapped around his neck naturally, neither of you phased from the new closeness and comfortability ━ your eyes flickering over his face, lingering on his lips for a few moments too long.

“i want to kiss you,” the words escaped your lips without any thought; it was as if a weight was lifted off your chest. some form of confession quite relieving.

charles hummed at your words, smirking even as he let out a breathy chuckle.

“yeah?” he teased ━ his breath fanning your face, and you nodded without any hesitation. it’s not what you wanted that had you not making any movements.

“mhm,” you sighed, head falling back; charles having not expected the huff of disappointment. you missed the way his eyebrows furrowed for a split second. if he was sober maybe he’d pick up on your internal conflict.

“kiss me then,” charles chimed, hand finding the side of your head; cupping your cheek so delicately you could only lean into the embrace.

never had you called on such will power and mental strength, fighting every instinct and nerve in your body that was practically yearning for him. begging you to put yourself out of your misery for once and rid the distance between the pair of you.

but you hadn’t come so far for nothing. you could only make so many drunken decisions.

“i can’t,” the words were painful to say, even the slight numbness that alcohol brought; you felt every sting of the sentence.

you watched the way his lips only curved upwards, he hadn’t picked up on the seriousness of your words.

“why not?” the question was teasing, his thumb caressing your cheek making it difficult to stick to your guns.

you looked at him as if he should know; because you’d hope he’d have some sort of idea. maybe if you could see straight you would’ve realised that charles reality wasn’t the same of yours.

“people will talk.” it sounded pathetic when you said it out loud, the sentence sobering you up enough to realise such thing. you weren’t one to usually care what people thought, so the way his smile faltered made sense.

charles took a few moments to process your words ━ he would’ve stepped away if it weren’t for your arms around him.

he wanted to point out that you two were in fact alone, but he knew what you meant. no secret was kept secret for long in the world of f1.

“let them.” charles attempted to dismiss, a cheesy smile to match, one that had you smiling as well. but it wasn’t the grin you’d been carrying all night. it was a sympathetic one almost.

charles was putting some pieces together now, as much as he could at least. your avoidance of him was making more sense with the words currently leaving your lips.

“wouldn’t fair well for me,” you mumbled; the disappointment clear in your tone. the annoyance at the fact there was clearly something stopping you. your mood was falling, charles noticed that easily.

and while he himself wasn’t overjoyed with how the night was concluding, he wouldn’t let it be ruined.

“it’s okay,” charles reassured quickly, his lips pressing to your forehead delicately instead ━ you shouldn’t have to explain yourself, he didn’t want you to feel as if you needed too. “let’s get you to bed.” he grinned.

the affectionate action caught you off guard, left speechless as his hand grasped yours and began to directing you out of the elevator. it only having you feeling regret and self pity for letting the moment escape your fingertips.

which only piled on you tenfold when he left your hotel room barely after making it two steps inside.

climbing into the sheets alone had never been so painful.

painful. a good word to describe the next few interactions with charles.

abu dhabi had you on edge. you didn’t know how to face him.

it was typical, finding yourself sat next to him in the drivers press conference. feeling as if every journalist in the room would take note of the exchanging glances, the way your eyes would quickly find something else if his met yours. the way you listened to him speak a little too intently.

charles however had no worries. not a thought in his mind as he shamelessly admired you, listening to every answer you gave. watching as you reacted to the words of other drivers or questions that weren’t to do with you. he couldn’t look away.

you’d avoided him all morning and yesterday; having not caught you after vegas.

charles was used to such behaviour, except now, he knew why. and your reasoning wasn’t good enough to him.

you two could be friends; it didn’t need to be one extreme or the other. so he had no shame in putting in effort to deter yours.

it was frustrating, almost as if every corner you turned he was there. all weekend, if you were not in the haas hospitality or your motor home, charles was near.

it was no coincidence, leaving the press pen at the same time; passing him after any interview, stuck next to him at the drivers briefing.

you couldn’t avoid the conversation, every moment with him was just pushing you further to the edge ━ your self control was hanging by a very thin thread and you were almost ready to cut it every time those damn green eyes linger on yours.

when you arrived at your hotel after qualifying, it was easy to spot him waiting in the lobby. an odd sight considering the lurking fans.

it made sense however, when charles beelined towards the elevator the moment you did.

you had to hold your breath as you both got inside, biting down on the inside of your cheek to not allow your own frustration bubble over.

“what are you doing?” the question was asked through gritted teeth, and the confusion that masked charles face did little to convince you he was as clueless as he looked.

the twinkle of amusement in his eye revealed enough.

“what do you mean?” the question was almost a challenge, charles peering down at you inquisitively - as if he didn’t know the answer himself.

you took a breath, shaking your head ever so slightly.

to put it simply, you were annoyed. at the world for putting you in this position, at yourself for getting to this point, and him for making it more difficult than it had to be.

“you’re stalking me.” you accused; eyes narrowing into a glare; one that intensified as his own lips curved upwards, and if you weren’t so focused on being annoyed you would’ve swooned over the dimples that lined his cheeks in doing so.

“i am not stalking you,” charles mused, laughing at the accusation as he leant against the wall behind him.

you expected more of an explanation ━ your own eyes trained ahead of you at the elevator doors that remained shut. looking at him was too risky.

“you are. you’re everywhere.” you huffed; not pleased with how clear the frustration was in your tone.

charles wasn’t phased, not in the slightest ━ the grin hadn’t left his face; almost as if any conversation with you was more than enough. even if you were huffing and puffing.

he wasn’t sure how the infatuation had spiralled so quickly; maybe he just wanted what he couldn’t have. the man wasn’t too use to rejection, and last week definitely stumped him.

or maybe he just refused to let you run away from what you clearly both see. feel. there was a connection here, he was sure of it.

“are we not friends?” charles question had you drawing a deep breath, suddenly aware of how slow these elevators were. and recognising the first flaw with being blessed with a penthouse room.

“of course we’re friends.” you rolled your eyes, speaking with such certainty as if you needed to remind yourself. friends.

you two were friends at most, that’s all you’d allow the pair of you to be.

“then you shouldn’t actively avoid me.” charles hummed, no shame in calling out your obvious behaviour that he’d let go on for too long.

it was humorous, the way your jaw dropped in offence at the accusation you knew was true.

“i do not.” your voice went up an octave, not even you could believe your own lie ━ nor try to sell it, avoiding his eye now as your leg began to bounce impatiently. it was becoming suffocating, in an enclosed space with him.

“you do.” charles mocked your voice ever so slightly, but the smile that went along with it left you no room to complain as you glanced over at him; your own lips curving upwards for a mere second.

you had nothing to say. to you it was clear, he knew where you stood. but you weren’t budging. it’s not like you wanted to deprive yourself of him; but you refused to sacrifice your career for a man. call it paranoia; but you don’t want to find out the consequences of adding truth to rumours.

“you don’t trust yourself around me.” charles had you read, and he wanted you to know it.

you two could be, should be, able to be friends at least. the monegasque was unsure as to why he was so set on such thing; some of you, was better than none.

“don’t flatter yourself.” you mumbled, attempting to dismiss his words; he was right. hit the nail on the head actually, but you wouldn’t admit that.

“we can be friends.” charles huffed when he realised he was straying from his original intentions; he didn’t want to provoke or tempt you. just make it clear there can be a platonic relationship here. you shouldn’t be scared of that.

“we are.” you reminded, eyebrows raising as you looked up at him; finally holding eye contact with the driver for more than a few seconds.

“then stop avoiding me.” charles repeated; and he’d be ashamed of how desperate he sounded if he had any room to care. but you were more of a pressing issue.

if he hadn’t called you out on a whole range of fronts you would’ve commented on his desperation; the elevator ding beating you to it regardless as the doors slid open.

“fine. only because you care so much,” your reply was playful; attempting to sound amused and unbothered ━ maybe that would distract from the fact you were agreeing with him.

you only had another day of being around him, you could easily do a day with him. las vegas was an example of your strength and will.

but as his grin widened, dimples and all, green eyes still pouring into yours as he backed out of the elevator; you knew it was never going to be easy.

the sticks and stones they throw froze mid-air

everyone wants him, that was my crime

the wrong place at the right time

of course it wasn’t easy.

you’d kept true to your word, he’d called you out so you finally relented.

the only solace you found in allowing yourself to get closer to charles was the fact you were right.

every moment spent with him felt like a ticking time bomb. you were cracking, you knew it. deep down you knew it was only a matter of time until you shattered and he’d be there to pick up every piece.

at first you’d coincidentally ran into him at your favourite cafe in monaco. not the first time you’d seen him there; but the first time he signalled you to sit down.

it was harmless at first, a quick catch up. one you’d have with any other colleague you’d bump into in public during winter break.

but there was something about seeing him in such casual attire, hoodie and sweats portraying him in a new light you couldn’t help but take a liking too.

what should’ve been five minutes of small talk was two hours of conversation; two hours of mind numbing tension, pretending to not notice the way his eyes would linger on your lips every now and then. or acting oblivious to the way you laughed at every second word that left his lips.

he parted with an offer to go on a run together sometime, and you accepted with the assumption it would be an empty gesture. a plan that never gets put in place.

but then he texted you a few days later; and suddenly you were struggling to find excuses to reject the offer. struggling to find the want too.

a run wasn’t dangerous. you’d both be pre-occupied.

and you were, until you were standing there puffed; exhausted and puffed; and struggling to not grow further flustered of the sight of a sweaty charles.

muscles flexing against the tight shirt, hair messier than usual; cheeks slightly flushed.

inviting him up to your place for a drink wasn’t your intention, but your mouth was a step ahead of your brain.

uncharted territory had now been crossed. messages were swapped regularly, weekly runs together was almost routine. then hours of conversation at either your apartment or his.

if you hadn’t fallen for him before, you definitely had now. it was beyond physical attraction. and it was mutual.

it was the way you found yourself always ensuring you had the biscuits he’d practically raided the first time he was over, always in an unopened packet awaiting him.

the way he found himself buying the lime flavoured water you preferred to drink after exercising; knowing your odd quirk of not being keen on regular water.

the way he came over with your coffee order and a chocolate croissant from your shared favourite cafe when you bailed on your run, apologising to him because you’d become run down with a cold.

“you didn’t have to do that,” you’d sniffled, heart fluttering at the kind gesture.

“what else are friends for,” charles had practically cheesed.

you’d like to convince yourself he was still at a safe distance, it made it easier to ignore the fact this wouldn’t last forever.

the limbo state was not ideal to neither of you, but it was much better than doing what you felt was inevitable. avoiding him again.

except that would just be much harder this time. before it was a crush; now you were swoon. you counted down the days to see him. awaited his name to appear on your phone.

there’d been close calls; moments where you thought one of you would crack.

like the time you struggled to grab a glass out of his cupboard, tippy toes and all it was out of reach.

you felt him behind you before seeing him, hand finding your hip as his other arm simply reached over you to grab a glass; quick to turn on your feet you hadn’t expected him so close.

“thanks,” you had mumbled, clearly flustered as you looked up at him ━ trapped between his frame and the counter; eyes finding his lips immediately.

silence fell over the pair of you, awaiting one of you to make a move.

you were glad charles had cleared his throat and stepped aside, returning to a safe distance ━ because you didn’t think you’d be capable of such thing in that moment.

charles questioned how he managed to do such thing, each and every time you got close to him he doubted how long he could resist being selfish.

he’d failed to realise back in abu dhabi that he neither could trust himself around you. he’d put in so much effort to prove to you that friends was possible, so naive to the fact it may be worse than before.

while he loved your company, it was a cruel reminder that you had ruled out the possibility of this going further. any dreams or fantasies of more would always stay that way; dreams. not reality.

it frustrated him beyond belief, not that he showed it. the way you gazed up at him through your pretty eyes; as if you’d do anything he asked. the way you always leant towards him when you laughed; how easily he could make you laugh.

and he couldn’t do anything about it. because he wasn’t selfish, you feared the consequences of being with him so he would not push you to face them.

deep down however, the pair of you knew it could only be a matter of time.

yet it still stung how easily it could’ve been avoided.

you weren’t meant to go out tonight, it had been a last minute and spontaneous decision; pressured by your friends who insisted, claiming you missed too many girls nights as it is. that winter break was there time to make up for all you miss while away during the season.

you got kicked out of the first bar you found yourself in, all because one of your friends picked a fight with the bartender; but that didn’t bother you in the moment.

on to the next.

it took a whole eight minutes being at the club, one you had subtlety name dropped to get yourself and your friends into, to spot charles in the crowd.

your friends eyes had found him first; your own merely following theirs in curiosity, and you were grateful that all four of you were preoccupied looking at the driver so they would fail to realise your own longing.

“i have not seen him in ages,” your friend stella spoke first; clueless to the developed friendship between the pair of you. you hadn’t really told anyone, call it trust issues.

“we should go say hi,” stella continued; looking at you all with hopefulness; eyes having lit up and appearing incredibly eager.

you couldn’t think of a worse idea. alcohol and charles almost ruined you once; and that was a few months ago. you didn’t think you had that much self control left.

“we have our own driver right here,” your friend had joked, rejecting the idea as she nudged your arm; purely because she wanted a girls night. and you laughed at the stupidity, ready to play along for your own selfish interests.

“unfortunately y/n, you’re not one stella can sleep with again,” your other friend joked through a smirk, alcohol causing word vomit, because by the way stella quickly slapped her arm told you that information she didn’t want shared.

the revelation had your face falling flat, not able to hide such thing as you pursed your lips in thought.

“you and charles?” the words escaped your lips with too much interest but you couldn’t stop yourself. suddenly needing to know more.

stella had let out an exasperated sigh.

you were grateful to know your friend beside you who rejected the idea of speaking to him was as shocked as you.

“ages ago.” stella tried to downplay, waving the idea off. although then she peered over her shoulder to look at the driver again, an innocent smile spreading across her face.

you nodded slightly, trying to muster a fake smile. you couldn’t be mad; it wouldn’t be rational to be mad. even in the slightest.

“i’m gonna go talk to him.” stella announced, and you could only swallow intently as your friend whined about it being girls night, watching as stella promised she’d be back before weaving through the crowd.

you were staring, but you didn’t care.

left to watch as stella made her presence known. watch as charles face lit up at the familiar face, embrace her quickly and introduce her to those he was stood with.

you could tell he was slightly tipsy, the way he was swaying side to side; even with his arm now draped around stella’s shoulders.

the sight made you sick. jealousy was an ugly trait but you’d never embraced it like you were now.

jealous of the fact your friend didn’t have to worry in going after what she wanted. jealous that she could quite happily cling to charles without worrying who saw.

your mood had plummeted, there was no hiding it. your friends definitely noticing but not questioning as they too glanced over at stella to note her progress.

it wasn’t until charles’ eyes found yours across the room that you looked away.

not in shame, you didn’t care that he knew you were watching; but more so to not make it clear how annoyed you were from the sight alone.

charles tensed up the moment he saw you ━ he hadn’t known you were here. and now that he did, the company he was with suddenly wasn’t good enough.

he’d picked up on your cold stare though; the way you failed to offer him your usual sweet smile.

suddenly he felt guilty, quick to remind himself he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

the driver distracted himself momentarily, tuning back into the conversation that was going on around him. but his mind was now elsewhere. you were consuming his thoughts now.

intentions to keep his distance were thrown out the window when he noticed you in his peripheral; standing at the bar alone.

he shouldn’t approach you; but the idea of letting you sit there and think he would rather spend his time with the blonde on his arm than you didn’t sit well with him either.

so he found himself excusing himself, heading to the bar where you stood.

you’d grabbed your drink, and the moment you turned around to head back to your seat and continue your moping, you’d spotted charles headed straight towards you.

a creature of habit; avoid him was your first thought. so you attempted to pretend to not see him, a sudden sense of urgency as you headed back to the booth your two friends were still sat at.

charles picked up on such thing however, his own urgency increasing as he managed to get ahead of you; practically cutting you off.

you’d been so desperate in your attempts to avoid him and his eyes that you collided, your drink taking the brunt of the hit as it fell to the ground; pouring ice and liquid on the floor, thankfully missing the pair of you.

you were quick to glare up at him, made to watch as he put his hands up in innocence and let out a quick and not too meaningful ‘sorry.’

you didn’t want to speak to him. he was an easy target for your current anger, so stepping around him was easy; you’d go without your drink for now, wanting to return to the safety of your booth.

but charles didn’t think that was fair.

he’d grabbed your arm before you made it two steps away; your name falling from his lips almost in warning.

“you don’t get to be mad at me.” charles huffed, it wasn’t fair. you told him that friends was the only possibility, so you had no reason to be glaring daggers and avoiding him as if he’d done something wrong.

he was right, you knew he was right. you weren’t even mad at him. but you were mad; fed up with the constant deprival you had to put yourself through, at how much you cared about what people would say ━ that you couldn’t put you and him out of your shared misery.

but unfortunately you had nothing else to aim your anger at; it was just you and charles in this position, meaning he fell into your firing line.

“i think you care too much about what i think of you.” you tried to dismiss his comment; not wanting to admit he was right, calling out his constant efforts of chasing you.

you watched as his jaw tensed, the breath he let out and his eyes drifting aside as he tried to rationalise his thoughts before he said something he’d regret.

“i didn’t know you knew stella.” charles huffed; deciding on what could be a civil approach. he didn’t need to explain himself, but that would be easier than playing into your game and letting you try create a rift between the pair of you.

you wanted to throw the words back at his face; but you stopped yourself. neither he nor stella owed you any loyalty when it came to one another; definitely not back then, so you couldn’t use it against him.

“it doesn’t matter.” you tried to sound calm, remove yourself from the animosity you held. if you could just get away from him, go home, and pretend this never happened.

“it clearly does.” charles didn’t miss a beat; it would have been easier to blindly believe you but how was that possible when you were refusing to meet his eyes and running away from him.

you shook your head, not knowing what to say because you couldn’t disagree there. he was right; like usual, surprise, surprise. truths were harder to ignore when it was coming from his mouth.

“it shouldn’t.” you spoke simply, before turning on your heel and heading towards the bathroom now; anywhere to get away. the thread was getting thinner, you didn’t trust yourself around him.

he’d debated on following you for a couple seconds, knowing what he should do. return to his friends. to stella; there was no complications there.

but yet he found himself just a few steps behind you, refusing to let you get the last word. to let you fall back into your old habits of avoiding him.

a part of you knew he was following you, or maybe that’s what you wanted to believe. your want to get away from him was just a product of self preservation, not true desire.

so you weren’t surprised to hear your name once you were about to reach the bathroom. turning around to face him with a sigh. you should’ve pretended to not hear him.

“what are you doing?” you huffed; looking at him with lost eyes because you were running out of things to say or do, unsure where to go from here.

“what do you want?” charles question caught you off guard, alongside the fact he took maybe one or two steps too many when catching up to you ━ so close and you couldn’t find the strength to create any distance.

you pursed your lips, shaking your head ever so slightly.

the lack of an answer spoke for itself, you knew what you wanted. him. but admitting such thing would be dangerous.

“you know we can’t━” you started to say, needing to remind yourself that as tempting as he was right now it wasn’t possible.

he cut you off however. charles knew what you thought; what you presumed others would think.

“i don’t care about anyone else. what do you want?” charles repeated, speaking with such intent it would’ve been intimidating if your mind wasn’t a scramble of thoughts.

he was practically begging you to spell it out for him; to face the truth of the matter. if you could look him in the eye and tell him you were happy with what you both had right now, he’d walk away.

but you were never going to do that. you could only bend so far.

you finally snapped.

connecting your lips with his was the easiest option, and the moment you did it was as if nothing else mattered. relief washing over the pair of you, as if a giant weight was suddenly lifted.

there’d been the slightest amount of hesitant in the action, but that was forgotten immediately.

it was rushed and messy at first, months worth of tension bubbling to the surface as your hands both pawed at one another eagerly; grabbing whatever you could.

having your hands on him wasn’t something you’d take for granted; gripping his shirt; moving to his biceps before wrapping around his neck.

his intentions were similar to yours, his large hands sprawling amongst the sides of your waist ━ not bothered by the way it caused your dress to bunch ever so slightly. he tugged you closer too, as if he was scared you’d leave his grasp.

he managed to back you into the bathroom without disconnecting your lips; hand only leaving your waist to fiddle blindly with the lock.

the kiss was still messy, eager and heated; gasping into his mouth when your back suddenly hit the wall. charles body enclosing you immediately, your legs suddenly feeling week as his hips pressed forward against yours.

it was not surprising that it didn’t stop their, neither of you were stopping now that the ice had been broken.

the night concluding with your hands spread on the wall ahead of you as charles pounded you from behind, dress bunched around your waist and panties pulled aside.

“gotta be quiet mon amour,” he’d whispered into your ear after your moans continued to grow in volume ━ his hand then moving to your jaw, sliding two fingers past your lips to shut you up.

you would’ve died happily in that moment, moments away from the best orgasm of your life.

no matter what happened, you wouldn’t be regretting it.

and I break down, then he's pullin' me in

in a world of boys, he's a gentleman

you hadn’t seen charles since that night in monaco.

he’d left for maranello not too long after, then you spent the rest of break in america; the season approaching relatively quickly.

messages were swapped, but nothing more.

testing was hectic, you didn’t get to see him or spend time with him even if you wanted too.

you weren’t sure you wanted to however. you missed him, that had been mutually expressed over text. but both you and he were scared; unsure how to navigate what happens now.

because unfortunately the circumstances hadn’t changed, you’d just gotten a taste of one another.

by the time it was raceday at bahrain, all excitement for the start of the season had left your body.

thursday set the tone; all your hard work, months of avoidance and deprival ━ it suddenly meant nothing.

you first caught wind of such in the press conference, sat alongside max, lewis, lando, carlos and alex.

when you finally got asked a question, your breath got stuck in your throat.

“did you enjoy your winter break? a new trainer in charles it seems?”

the question was posed so innocently, you knew the tone. the cheery and amused light heartedness to mask the undertones; it was accusing. you knew it was; any girl would get it.

you knew photos were circulating of you and charles running around monaco, but that wasn’t an issue. there were photos of you and daniel out for lunch as well. ones of you and toto exchanging hello’s.

what a headline; you got along with people you worked with.

“uh yeah,” you laughed off; biting your tongue, like usual. you knew when to pick your battles. “i’m no good at padel so, stuck to running.” you hummed, left to watch as the journalist nodded almost unconvinced.

it was a sinking feeling; they knew, everyone knew. it’d somehow got out. that you’d slept together. paranoia; you had to remind yourself. they couldn’t know.

“is it difficult to have relations off track with competitors?” he was looking you dead in the eye as he posed another question to you, and it hit a nerve.

you shifted ever so slightly in your seat. you hadn’t faced these sort of questions since your rookie year, when journalists didn’t realise what they should and shouldn’t imply.

you had to hold back a scoff; biting down on the inside of your cheek.

“is that a question for all of us or just me?” you practically challenged, and the awkwardness that fell over the room only had the pit in your stomach growing.

it was as if they all knew something you didn’t.

that was all you were asked, all you could think about as you sat on the couch, itching to get out of this damn room.

but that was just the start.

entering the haas hospitality your gut feeling made sense when you were faced with the entirety of the press team awaiting you.

granted, the press team was only four people. but you only ever really dealt with your own press officer if it was without warning.

the whole conversation was a blur, you felt sick the moment it begun.

‘we need to have a meeting,’

‘there’s photos of you and leclerc,’

‘damming to your reputation. our reputation,’

‘unacceptable behaviour and a breach of contract,’

‘negotiating to not let mainstream media run with it,’

‘we’re opening our own private investigation.’

you were being spoken at, no room to reply, no ounce of sympathy. you could feel the disgust as they spoke. as if you’d actually done something wrong.

“investigation?” you repeated in confusion, bewildered as you glanced between the lot of them.

you didn’t know what to say. or do.

deny? beg them to cover it up? apologise?

you felt like that 13 year old girl again, that anything you said wouldn’t matter. keeping your mouth shut as they broke out in chatter again.

short. blunt. your own press officer not even sticking around as they the dispersed, even mentioning that gene would probably be calling later.

you felt like you were going to throw up the moment you got into the privacy of your drivers room, it only taking a few seconds to find the photos flooding your timeline.

monaco. it was undeniable. it was definitely him, definitely you, kissing.

you held back your tears, determined to not let the comments ruin you. your press teams words lingering, but you pushed them back.

the day dragged, you were on edge; one wrong move and an on pour of tears would arise to the surface. just needed to wait till you were in the privacy of your hotel room.

these people would not see you cry.

you hadn’t expected the cold shoulder from your own team. but it was your manager that was the tip of the iceberg.

you hadn’t seen him all day, a close friend you’d consider him, he’d been with you since f3.

“where have you been?” you breathed as you climbed into the car, more than relieved to be leaving the track. and hopefully every conversation that was had.

“cleaning your mess.” he’d muttered in annoyance, and you couldn’t help but shake your head as your jaw clenched.

“not you too,” it was an attempt of a joke, head resting against the window. “don’t know why people are acting like i shared the teams 3 year plan with the enemy,” you huffed.

but you were only met with silence, causing your eyes to glance to your manager who was focused on his laptop in his lap.

“i mean it jason. the way i was treated today was━” you began to speak up at his silence, anger was easier than the self pity.

“what did you expect?” his question was venomous, shutting you up quickly as you stared at him with a slack jaw. it took a few moments to process, how he was on side with them.

or more importantly, not on your side. the guy who you pay to be on your side.

“for my personal life to remain personal.” you spoke like it was obvious.

you had feared this, yes, but that didn’t mean it was right. maybe you held onto hope your lack of faith in the world was misplaced. but everyone was proving you right.

he shook his head simply, so disappointingly you had to laugh, eyes gazing back out the window as you rapidly approached the hotel.

“i thought you didn’t want to be known for this.” his comment was a throw away one, but it cut you deep. his insinuation one he knew would sting, so you didn’t hide the fact it did.

“known for what?” you spoke through gritted teeth; if he wanted to insult you he better not half ass it.

there was moment of silence, hesitance; but not long enough.

“sleeping around.” he shrugged, still typing away on his computer. “great way to halt contract talks. i mean come on y/n,” he groaned.

you weren’t sure if he was right, you’d like to think your talent would over shine paddock gossip. but if he was right, the problem should lie with teams misogyny. not your sex life.

you highly doubt ferarri will hesitate resigning charles because of the matter.

you didn’t say another word, not trusting your voice; it was too much. felt like you were being attacked from every angle. ambushed even.

you’d slammed the door the moment you got out the car, urgently getting inside the hotel; managing to find the elevator through blurry eyes, tears threatening to spill.

almost there.

the elevator ride was testing, the silence made your short breaths and sniffles hard to ignore as you tiptoed on the line of breaking.

the final straw however, was charles himself leaving his hotel room as you navigated your way to yours.

your name had never sounded so delicate coming from his lips, as if he knew that you were fragile, sympathetic eyes as he took a few steps towards you.

“don’t━” you breathed out, voice breaking on you before you could say his name. your hand raising to tell him to stay where he was.

the first tear fell, silently.

“i’m so sorry,” he breathed out; cautiously stepping forwards despite your action. it broke him, the sight of you. he’d never seen you so upset.

overjoyed, pissed off, ecstatic, confused, riled up; he’d seen it all. but never had he seen you cry.

“you’re the last person i want to see right now.” you managed to get out.

lie.

complete lie, but unfortunately once more he was an easy target. the face of today’s events and the reason for fractures in practically every professional relationship you’d formed over the years.

charles didn’t take your words to heart, watching as you fumbled to find your room key; your shaky hands had him frowning, behind you now as he grabbed your arm when you took a step inside.

“please,” charles sighed; desperate for you to let him help. let him comfort you. he felt responsible, but it wasn’t guilt that was pushing him towards you.

just the need to ensure you were okay.

he’d barely received a slap on the wrist. told by his press team to ‘be more careful next time.’ and reminded issues would arise if talks of strategy and racing came to light.

that was that. his day went on. he almost got ahead of himself, optimistic the day could end with him showing up at your door to tell you that you never had anything to worry about.

but word spread quickly in the paddock, and charles caught onto the double standards incredibly quickly with how you were being spoken about in comparison to him.

you didn’t trust your voice once more, simply shaking your head ‘no’ as you got inside, attempting to shake his grasp.

he didn’t let you however, which was almost a relief.

the door shut behind the pair of you, charles tugging you towards his chest immediately.

you had no more strength, no fight left; simply letting him do so as the tears poured.

your head met his chest, arms clinging to his shirt as his arms went around you; holding you close as he mumbled encouraging words.

he felt like a safe place, allowing you to be weak and vulnerable with no fear for the first time in a long time.

quiet sobs and sniffles escaped you as you shook in his hold. it wasn’t just a days worth of torment, no, but all the other shit you put up with from the start of your career.

charles wasn’t sure what to say, just that it’d be okay. let it out. i’ve got you.

his hand was running through your hair delicately, and you somehow register the multiple kisses he pressed to the top of your head; such subtle actions that managed to slow your heart rate.

“i’m so sorry,” charles words were whispered, it was what brought you out of your own head; teary eyed peering up at him as you shook your head.

this wasn’t his fault.

“not your fault,” you spoke through a deep breath, starting to gain your composure. still timid, but you’d gotten the tears out.

“it’s not yours either.” charles spoke in certainty, sounding pissed off. because he was. and it made your stomach flip.

it was the bare minimum, but hearing someone be in your corner was exactly what you needed. the fact it was charles was just a bonus.

“i mean it’s more my fault than yours. i didn’t leave you alone, putain, i am sorry,” he began to ramble. the guilt was eating him alive. you’d tried to avoid this ━ he couldn’t help but feel as if he threw you into the lions den.

you disagreed however. deep down, this all felt inevitable. like it was a matter of when, not if. you were so scared of this happening because apart of you knew there was no avoiding it.

“i don’t regret it.” you told him in certainty, hand moving to cup his cheek; offering a sad smile. “it’s just━ not fair.” you mumbled.

his smile mirrored yours, lacking the usual brightness it held as thumb lifted to your cheeks; brushing away the tears staining your skin.

“it’s gonna be okay. i’ll fix this.” charles promised, but it wasn’t a promise he could keep. you knew that, your head tilting aside as you sighed.

his intentions were pure, held your best interest at heart.

“m’ just gonna have to let it blow over.” you told him, taking a sharp inhale. that didn’t answer the question that lingered between the pair of you.

what this was. what you two were.

he nodded ever so slightly, frustration growing at the fact he couldn’t fix it himself. he wanted to help. to rid you both of the outside noise and judgmental opinions.

“but i think━” you’d cut yourself off, you didn’t want to say it.

he knew however, by the way your grip had tightened on his shirt. the way your eyes held sympathy and sorrow. he knew what you were going to say.

“i know,” charles sighed; nodding in reassurance.

this needed to stop. whatever this was, it couldn’t go further. not for now at least; charles knew that.

rumours won’t die down if there is still truth to them.

your bottom lip quivered slightly at the sight of the sad smile he showed you; the way he was so willing to comply.

you hated the fact you both had to suffer, all for what?

“i’ll stay away, i promise,” charles hummed; biting down on the inside of his cheek as he ran his fingers through your hair once more.

you still had no words, because it was the last thing you wanted. yet somehow was what you needed.

you’d like to say to hell with it, to tell him you didn’t care. that you could be together, and figure out the latter.

but today had been hell; you weren’t sure it was something you could get used too.

“thank you,” you whispered out; charles only response was pulling you close once more, knowing when he let you go, it would be for good.

he had to let you go.

but if I'm all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us

if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once

charles stayed true to his word.

it was obvious, the way you two steered clear of each other.

talk of you and him died down, the paddock found something else to focus on within a couple weeks; and it was just another story for the history books that would be brought up every now and then.

their was awkwardness in the team however.

their investigation closed with no findings, something you laughed at.

a motivator; to get the fuck out of there.

it paid off, comfortably beating your teammate. dragging the car into the points most weeks.

talks with mercedes was going well, progressing nicely ━ you wanted to emphasise to your manager that charles hadn’t been mentioned once from them either.

but you weren’t going to dwell on the past.

not audibly at least.

charles was a sacrifice you hated making, and it was mutual.

it was cruel, the way you were too scared to meet his eye if cameras were around. scared one wrong move and you’d be jumped on by prying eyes and gossipers.

charles too shared your fear; he didn’t want to put you in a compromising position. and while it was physically painful to cut you off completely, he managed.

none was easier than some, it seemed.

it was laughable, how the pair of you actually believed the avoidance would stick this time. that it would actually work.

couldn’t even make it to summer break, a few months apart was bound to be all you could endure.

monaco, a race you’ll never forget.

your signing with mercedes was announced on the thursday; a milestone in your career, a highlight.

you were ecstatic, nay-sayers and doubters did little to dull your mood ━ nothing would ruin such an achievement.

but it motivated you.

you heard it all before, when you signed with haas. how it was a PR move, not on merit. for the money you would bring in. the commercial value.

it was the same thing, and the need to prove people wrong was always a blessing when you got in the car.

it’d been a wet qualifying, playing into your favour. putting the car into p3 meant everything would’ve had fallen into place. and it did.

you were overjoyed, the smile had not been wiped off your face. you were proving that contract was yours based off your talent.

you went on to hold onto p3 in the race and secure a podium, you were high off adrenaline and excitement the moment you got out of the car.

you’d handled the pressure, failed to make a mistake; blessed to have had your best qualifying at the hardest place to overtake.

the other headline of the weekend?

charles had finally won his home race.

he wasn’t on your mind, not as you shared the podium. or as you faced the media together afterwards.

you cared deeply for charles, but this was your childhood dream. years worth of hard-work had finally paid off. being near him wasn’t hard, for once, because you had way too many things to currently be happy about.

it was civi and casual, friendly; in the cool down room, on the podium; in the interview.

it wasn’t until later that night, on a random super-yacht, surrounded by drunken socialites and f1 personalities that temptation reached you once more.

you’d barely had a drink, being pulled in every way and direction; talking to many that you didn’t have time to sip the half full glass in your hand.

charles knew this; he’d been watching you all night.

his dream had come true, winning in monaco; in front of his home fans.

call him greedy for wanting more as he stood on the yacht, surrounded by his friends as his eyes settled on you.

he couldn’t help but think of the only way to make this night perfect; you.

the praise and congratulations from everyone else was nice, but he was dying to hear it from you.

to congratulate you as well. on your podium. on your contract.

he thought he was over it, the unfairness of it all. but this was a new challenge.

watching as you stood there, hugging everyone. beaming and laughing, as you should.

would it be so wrong for him to congratulate you as well? to steal a couple minutes of your time? he’d promised to stay away, but this had to be an exception.

right?

so charles went against his word, weaving through the crowd the moment you caught a break in conversations.

uncharacteristically dismissing those who tried to speak to him as he set on his way towards you, nothing would stop him.

“hey,” charles made his presence known; capturing your attention; and the way your eyes lit up and lips curved upwards, he wanted to kill whoever had deprived him of such sight for however many months.

“hi!” you couldn’t help but sound surprised, pleasantly surprised.

you’d been wanting to talk to him; which wasn’t anything new. needing to talk to him however, just unsure how to navigate such thing.

“congratulations. sure you’ve heard it all, but you deserve this.” charles words were genuine; smiling down at you proudly, and while you had heard it all the past couple hours; it meant more coming from him. “the contract as well. huge news,” he added.

your nose scrunched up slightly, grinning ━ pure happiness present because you really were oh so happy.

“thank you,” you smiled; nodding appreciatively. “i should say the same to you. i know how much this win means to you,” you spoke; and charles could only smile at the way you sounded so sincere.

“thank you,” his turn to offer thanks, a silence falling over the pair of you.

that was all you should say, all you were sure was excusable.

it was clear, the way you both had so much on the tip of your tongue; too scared to let it out. neither wanting to be the one to crack. to undone all the hard work.

charles so desperately wanted to rant his heart out, remind both you and himself that the past few months had been undeserved torture. and he was convinced he was going to for a moment.

but he couldn’t. he wouldn’t be selfish with you.

“well i’ll see you━” charles had cleared his throat, ready to do the right thing. to walk away, like he promised he would.

but you cut him off. scared if you didn’t tell him now, you never would.

“wait.” you interrupted, pursing your lips; and he was happy to shut up. he didn’t need any convincing to stay put.

“i uh, with my mercedes contract…” you trailed off; biting your lip. “i made it clear, what expectations would be of me. on and off track, obviously. like anyone would,” you rambled slightly; nervously even.

charles wasn’t sure he’d ever seen you nervous.

you were nervous because of what you were implying.

you’d made it clear you didn’t want to be held to any individual expectations off track, that your relations with others wouldn’t concern the team if it didn’t jeopardise the team.

you were grateful, how understanding mercedes were. a breath of fresh air really. so much you’d basically outright told them that you didn’t want you and charles to be an issue, if anything were to arise between the pair of you.

you’d figured if you had a team that backed you, handling outside noise and assumptions would be made a lot easier.

“me and you, it wouldn’t be an issue.” you summed up; practically spitting it out. it felt weird, suddenly lacking confidence as you referenced a ‘you and him.’ worried that ship had sailed.

you watched as his eyebrows raised, lips parting in surprise.

he hadn’t expected you to say such thing, the one thing he’d dreamt of you saying one too many times.

“if that uh, you know. ever happens, i don’t know,” you added on; feeling the need to back pedal, not wanting to come off headstrong. it was the reason for your hesitance. you and charles had never discussed what you were, because it never seemed possible.

charles wasn’t sure what to say. his first instinct was to kiss you; because it seemed as if this was the best night of his life, with all his hopes and dreams coming true.

but his care for you trumped all.

“people will still talk,” he couldn’t help but remind softly. not to argue against you, but to ensure you knew exactly what you were implying. he knew the rush you were feeling, first podium. fresh off multiple highs, he didn’t want you to come crashing down tomorrow and regret these words tonight.

he didn’t know you’d already assessed all your options, weighed up the two cons. your mind had been made up, you just needed to bite the bullet.

you’d already been through it, called every name in the book. may as well make it all for something.

“let them.” you breathed out, a shy smile following suit, mischievous almost, quoting him from that night in vegas. you’d said it with confidence, such conviction he knew you meant it.

his smile was bright, practically beaming at you as he nodded. unsure what to do next, but he didn’t care. he liked the way things were looking.

he hadn’t expected you to kiss him, in the middle of the crowded floor, but god he wasn’t complaining ━ hands finding the small of your back as yours wrapped around his neck.

you’d pulled away shortly afterwards, not creating any distance as your foreheads touched.

“if you still want this of course,” you spoke; just above a whisper, realising you hadn’t really let him confirm he still wanted this.

he’d laughed, at the idea alone he didn’t. shaking his head at the thought as he brought his hand up to cup your face.

“all i could think about tonight, was that the only thing that would make today truely perfect, would be sharing it with you.” charles confessed; taking in the way you lit up at his words, watching as any last doubts or fears vanished from your frame.

you were relaxed, happy and carefree; not one bit of energy spent on anyone around you. who saw, who cared; it meant nothing to you.

you giggled as you pressed your lips to his again, passionately this time; charles leaning over you as he held your body close to his, smiling against your pink lips.

it felt incredibly cliche, as if you were the only two people on the yacht in the moment.

he’d murmured something about getting out of here only moments later, you being quick to agree.

patience was something you’d both demonstrated incredibly well over the last year; safe to say you both had none left to spare.

navigating the crowd hand in hand almost felt like a rush, relieving to not care as you followed him off the yacht; giddy like teenagers as you climbed into the back of a car.

he’d barely gotten his address out before you were on him again, lips pressed against his as you gripped his shirt.

charles hand tangled in your hair, revelling in the way your lips felt against his. he’d spent many nights recounting your night together; attempting to cling to the feeling and pleasure it brought. this was ten times better than what his imagination could produce.

the only time you kept your hands off him was the short walk from the car to the elevator of his apartment complex, the moment the doors slid shut you found yourself pressed against the wall ━ his hands gripping your hips and lips attacking your neck.

you became breathless quickly, satisfied hums escaping you; head tilting back to give him as much access as he wanted.

“have i ever told you how beautiful you are mon ange,” charles sighed against your skin; only lifting his head when he heard the doors ring open.

you smiled at him stupidly, taking in the sight. his pretty green eyes, slightly swollen lips and tussled hair. more beautiful than anything you’d ever seen before.

“come on,” you mused with a blush, urging him to head to his room; in quick pursuit.

you’d barley gotten your heels off once inside when charles was snaking his hands under your thighs, hoisting you up as your legs wrapped around his waist.

it didn’t feel really; finally able to have you like this.

“gonna make you feel so good,” charles murmured against your lips as he navigated his way through the apartment, hands squeezing your ass which granted a gasp from you. “deserve so much more than a quickie in the bathroom,” he commented.

while your first time together was more than satisfying, it was rushed. muffled moans and chasing release desperately with fear the moment could’ve been ruined in any moment.

tonight you were all his. no need to keep you quiet, no limit to the positions he could put you in.

he sat at the end of his bed; you not taking long to get comfortable in his lap as your lips moved roughly against his; hips grinding as you did so.

“you won,” you breathed out as you shifted your attention up his jaw, teeth catching his ear momentarily as you kissed at the skin of his neck. “let me make you feel good,” you whispered; charles head tilting back as he audibly groaned. “you deserve it,”

charles always loved praise, his ego thrived on it. but god, hearing it from you? his pants were feeling way too tight.

he couldn’t say no to you, not that’d he’d ever want too.

you didn’t give him any time to reply regardless, climbing off his lap and standing between his legs momentarily, hands holding onto his knees as you pressed one lingering kiss to his lips.

sinking to your knees, you were incredibly eager. a scenario you’d play out too many times as your hands got to work in freeing his cock.

charles lips parted as he rested back on his hands, head tilted downwards as he watched you intently ━ biting down on the inside of his cheek at the sight alone.

his breaths only got heavier as you spat in your hand and jacked him off a couple times, hissing as your thumb rolled over his tip.

the sight was better than you could imagine, as you took him in your mouth and watched his head fall back. his clenched jaw, neck muscles and arms flexing as he groaned.

it had your thighs clenching together, not wasting time in bobbing your head; taking as much of him as you could; hitting the back of your throat each time but it did little to deter you.

“putain,” charles grunted under his breath ━ forcing himself to tilt his head back down to watch you work, hand gathering your hair in a makeshift pony tail. and the way his lips curved into a smirk when your eyes met his had your thighs clenching once more.

“there you go pretty girl, taking me so well,” charles huffed ━ noting the way you gagged around him every now and then, yet showed no signs of slowing down. “mouth is fucking heaven,”

his praise only encouraged you further, doe eyes staring up at him through your lashes; tears welling in your eyes.

your hand was holding his thigh for support, watchinf as he busied himself momentarily by ridding himself of his shirt ━ revealing his toned torso flexing with each sharp breath he took.

“pull your dress down,” his words were direct, a clear demand and with him staring down at you like he was ready to ruin you, you didn’t need to be told twice. tugging your dress down to free your breasts.

his admiring eyes raked your body shamelessly, pleasure only increasing from the sight. you were fucking perfect, and he couldn’t believe this was real.

it was as if you caught on to the moment, reading him perfectly as your efforts picked up ━ keen to make him cum.

and by the way he was starting to tug on your hair, you knew he was close.

he came in your mouth moments later with little warning, and you were practically squirming in your place as you licked him clean.

“you’re perfect,” charles breathed after catching his breath, which happened incredibly quickly; signalling you to climb back into his lap.

you giggled as you did so, grinning as you pressed your lips to his once more; straddling him with ease as your hands spread across his toned chest ━ happy to touch him now that he was back in reach.

his hand moved up your leg, pushing your panties aside and cupping your cunt with little warning; causing you to moan into his mouth.

“you’re fucking soaked,” charles spoke, pulling back to watch your face contort in pleasure; watch as you became putty in his hold. “barely touched you yet baby,” he cooed ━ you couldn’t help but whine, hips bucking against his hand as he circled your clit.

he took in every feature on your pretty face, able to live in the moment and not be rushed like last time. make you feel everything he wanted you too.

“who would’ve guessed you were such a slut,” charles mused; practically toying with you. he couldn’t help himself, not when you looked so pretty panting and whimpering in his lap.

“for you.” you whimpered, hand gripping his bicep tightly as your hips moved against his hand; yearning for more.

he grinned widely at that, rewarding your words as a finger pushed past your folds unexpectedly.

“all for me.” charles hummed in agreement, words still slightly breathless himself as his other hand moved to cup the side of your face, making avoiding his eyes impossible. “all mine.”

the statement had your stomach flipping, words you could used to. something you’d know a long time, but hearing it out loud was so refreshing.

you were his. he was yours.

“please charles,” you whined out impatiently, his toying with your cunt felt good; but you need more, your thighs a painted mess along with his hand by now.

your plea had him hardening again, words sounding so alluring coming from your lips.

“what do you want mon amour?” charles spoke through a breath, eyes gazing over you as if you were the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen. because you were. “tell me, i’ll give it to you,” he promised; thumb grazing your cheek; such a delicate action that didn’t correlate with his thumb teasing your clit expertly.

you whimpered again, cheeks a tint of pink as your eyes fluttered shut momentarily, but they found charles gaze once more.

“all of you,” you spoke. “wanna feel you,” you sighed; his cock was pressing against your inner thigh ━ not helping with the urge to feel him inside you.

his lips curved upwards, pleased with your answer; and unable to deny himself any longer either. you’d both been through enough torture, he wouldn’t be delaying this any longer.

“want me to fuck you yeah?” charles paraphrased for you, hand leaving your cunt to find your waist; lifting you off his lap with ease and laying you beside him.

he was hovering over you within seconds, leaving you to nod eagerly below him. your hands found the hem of your dress, tugging it up and over your head as if that would help entice him.

but he didn’t need any help; he doesn’t think he’d last another second without being inside you.

he slid inside you without another word, your gasps intertwining as your own head fell back against his pillow; eyes fluttering shut at the stretch.

he gave you a moment to adjust, his head falling into the crook of your neck; light kisses peppered on your skin, a contrast to the way he was about to fuck you.

your hands tugging on his hair told him you wanted more; thrusting into you slowly and deeply at first, your mouth fell agape at the angle it hit ━ moans beginning to fall from your lips.

“charles, fuck,” you mumbled ━ fingers moving down his back, sure to leave marks as he gradually picked up the pace.

his thrusts got quicker, but not softer; fucking you into the mattress, all you could do was whimper and moan ━ eyes rolling back at the pleasuring sensation.

“so perfect for me,” charles grunted; the way you were squeezing him was better than he remembered, keeping his focus on your own pleasure because if not, he’d probably cum within moments.

“oh my god,” you all but practically squealed when he moved your leg over his shoulder, feeling as if he was splitting you open; you bit down on your lip to try shut up the now constant sounds.

charles wasn’t having a bar of it however.

“ah, ah,” charles breathed; hand moving to tap your cheek. “wanna hear you gorgeous girl. every fucking sound,” charles told you; eyes pouring into yours which made it clear he wasn’t joking.

you nodded weakly, on cue charles delivering a harsher thrust that had you choking out a moan once more.

it didn’t take long, for you to get brought to the edge; stomach growing tight as your eyes rolled back once more. cumming without warning, unable to process the pleasure you were feeling.

a moment of weakness for charles, watching as you shook beneath him and screamed his name; squeezing him suddenly, he almost came too. he didn’t though thankfully, because his focus was still you.

you weren’t prepared for him to not relent, instead feeling his hand snake between your bodies and find your clit, eyes flying open.

“o-oh,” you gasped, the onslaught of pleasure hard to cope with as your hands gripped onto his back tightly, nails digging into his skin as he smirked down at you.

“take it baby,” charles grunted; eyebrows raising momentarily. “too much?” his question was teasing, and he couldn’t help the breathy chuckle when you shook your head; scared he’d stop. you didn’t want him to stop.

you weren’t sure you could take it, but you were going to try. you’d do anything for him when he was touching you like this.

“so good,” you moaned; tears welling in your eyes quickly from the overstimulation, body jolting with every thrust which hadn’t relented.

his stamina impressive, having not slowed down nor gotten sloppy as he pounded into you.

you were struggling to keep your eyes open now, lost in the pleasure. but charles wanted to watch you, and wanted you to watch him as you pushed you over the edge once more.

“look at me baby,” charles grunted; pinching your clit lightly which had your eyes flying open, meeting his. “gonna watch me as you cum again yeah?” charles told you, his own breaths heavier now as he struggled to not let himself revel in the feeling of you.

you nodded, again, like a broken record; all your effort focused on watching him as your face contorted in pleasure. maybe even a tear or two fell, the familiar feeling washing over you again suddenly as he delivered another harsh thrust. and another. and suddenly it was as if he found new energy somewhere.

you all but screamed his name as you came again suddenly, coming undone on his cock. he was close behind, unable to resist with the way your walls squeezed him again.

your heavy breaths filled the room as charles helped you both ride out your highs, before sliding out of you, he remained above you regardless.

he was looking at you in awe, hand pushing some of your hair away that had gotten stuck to your forehead, earning a lazy smile from you in return.

“i could get used to that,” your words broke the silence; eyes flickering to his lips which gave charles the hint to place a kiss on your lips, a delicate one unlike those shared earlier.

he’d chuckled at your words afterwards, humming in agreement as his hand ran up and down your side comfortingly.

“me too,” charles agreed with a grin; pressing yet another kiss to your lips, a longer one this time; passionate and slow. enjoying the moment. the peace of it all.

when you pulled away moments later, you practically beamed as you urged him off of you; moving to straddle him instead.

you had a lot of time to make up for.

━━━━━

a/n: oh she’s bACK BACK CHARLES FIC YAY

hope u liked, still rusty lol i don’t rlly like the smut but i did enjoy writing the angst hehe

unedited sorry i’ll get to that later like usual oOps

as always feedback is always greatly encouraged and appreciated, means the world to me so pls share ur thoughts 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

luv u all !!!!!!!

[blondedmuse]

BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE (BEAUTIFUL PROBLEMS)

synopsis. ꩜ how felix comforts you.

author’s note. ∿ i wanted to write something (kind of) short and angsty so here’s this

When Felix woke up his skin was cold, lacking the warmth your body gave him in the night, his arms holding onto the ghost of you. He lifted his body from his bed, his eyes in search of his room for any trace you you. He couldn’t find anything. He checked the room you were assigned when you first arrived at Saltburn and you weren’t there either—not that you used it anyways. So, he walked downstairs to the dining room assuming you were at the table eating breakfast. While everyone ate at approximately at the same time it was in Felix’s nature to be a little fashionably late.

His assumptions were correct as you sat for the meal, looking down at your food. It was when you looked up at him he noticed something innately wrong, unable to ignore how your eyes were tainted red as they flit around the room, unable to hold his gaze. You hadn’t said much other than please and thank you the entire time, ultimately excusing yourself early, the sound of your feet resounding throughout the house as you walked back upstairs.

“Is she okay?” Venetia subtly whispered to Felix and he shook his head with a shrug. “I don’t know,” He responded seriously. Elsbeth gave her son a look of concern, the green light that it was acceptable to excuse himself.

“If I may, I’m going to excuse myself to check on her.” His parents nodded and he followed the same way you went. He eventually traced you back to the bathroom that separated your two rooms, peeking in the door when he heard your figure slosh in the water of the bathtub.

“Can I come in?” He asked quietly and you nodded. Your knees were to your chest as you held a cigarette in your hand. Felix kneeled beside you, replacing the cig with his hand, putting it out on the ash tray beside the bath it seemed you brought with you. His thumb massaged your hand in silence as if it would magically ease whatever was devastating you—it didn’t, but it calmed the both of you to know that it helped.

“Do you want me to join you?” He mouthed, quieter than the previous question as you looked at him again. Still you didn’t say anything, only nodding as he reluctantly released your hand to remove the clothing from his body. You moved from your position momentarily to make room for him in the bath, sitting in his lap once he was submerged with you.

He didn’t push you to talk but there was something so concerning, persuasive about the look in his eyes you almost felt guilty for staying quiet. Felix would never intend to make you feel that way, there was just something about him that made you want to open your heart to him knowing that he’d keep it safe.

The thought alone made your eyes water like they had earlier that morning, the reason why you left him in bed alone. You rested your head on his chest as you cried, Felix’s arms around you, rubbing at your back as you did so. His head rested atop yours, cringing to himself each time he felt it shake from a sob.

“I’m right here, okay?” He mumbled into your hair. His statement made it seem like he was a few doors down or right next to you, but in truth his body was wrapped around yours, protecting you like a shield from anything that threatened to hurt you. He knew he couldn’t, but right now it was the best he could do.

[strawberryvanillafrosting]

success life story ♡

heyy i'm here to share about my success story, the beginning is only before i started manifesting and about when i just started, all my success are on the very end of the blog, so feel free to skip directly at it if you're not interest by all the rambling !

have a good read ☆

michiko is so pretty, i've literally been told so many times i looked liker <3

the old story that i don’t live in anymore

okay so before i didn’t hate my life, at all, but i just found very dull and so poor of entertaining like it was just too fucking regular and repetitive.also a bit depressing. i thought of myself of such an unlucky girl before and i was like affirming all the fucking time that i was unlucky and guess what? everything really used to go the way i didn’t want it to go every single damn time and i’d be like i knew it im so unlucky boo-hoo.

same for the money i would just go every single fucking day rambling to my friends how poor i was and how i wanted money so bad and the same story every single fucking for days, weeks, months.

i really wanted a new appartement and my own room cause i used to share same room as my sister and it really was getting on my nerves, i had no privacy and place for myself. the apartment was small, my mum always kept complaining about it and then she would argue about my dad about it but the reason why we couldn’t move out despite trying for several months was cause my dad had whole lotta debts and my mom had a really low paying and hard job she was exhausted and, it was quiet hard to see them being this unhappy and they still tried their hardest to make us happy so i really wanted to get back at them.

about social life i had very few friends and barely went out, i'd say probably one time a month. and i really wanted to get that life of the party, and those big ass friends group and also i was crazy desperate about having black friends cause i am black and literally the only black out here without none of black friends and i felt pretty left out like wtf am i the only black girl with no black friends cause all of them (that's so dumb tho.. ) were friends and gets invited to the most fun hangouts and i was embarrassingly jealous of that and also complained a lot about it…and kept asking tf was wrong with me.

STRONGLY on this one : i wanted a relationship so bad and i kept hating and being sad to those couple on tiktok’s. one time i actually cried cuz i wanted a boys’s love so bad like i was craving it so bad. i was in such despair state before..cringy ahh ☠️

i used to be rlly insecure about my looks too even tho at some moments i felt more confident, i kept comparing myself and waisting dozens of minutes enumerating my "flaws ". i knew about manifestation but not really about law of assumption , for me manifesting was really all about listening to subliminals, method and scripting. we all once knew that phase yeah? i used to manifest from time to time but then would just give up again,since i was not seeing results and so on. so useful wow.and then there’s the others things like mediocre grades, poor family health, just constant tiredness and fatigue feeling,

tw : mention of being depressed,sh,ed, : felt empty like life had absolutely no meaning, suicidal thoughts, tried to end by over-consumption of medication, self-harm and bulimia, constant complaining and NEGATIVE ONLY mindset.

but now, NOW i tell you ever single thing i’ve just listed changed completely like every single damn thing i’ve just listed is no more, it’s out of the date, dead, buried and no longer existing !

it clicked

then at some point at my life i was just like. yk what? fuck i just wanna change it all. then i really like really  got into it all over again and for good. no more 1 week i try then giving up cause i ain’t seeing no « results ».

i watched hours and hours of ppl talking about loa (i’m not saying you should do this at all it’s just that i was very under-informed and wanted to know everything about loa)on youtube, shoutout to rita kaminski and hyler who really put me into it and informed me. then i started reading neville’s pdf books, and tumblr blogs, kinda overconsuming but i liked getting myself informed.

and then that’s where everything started and that i got aware of all the power i actually hold. all the things i actually can do just cause of my mind. i wrote down all my wishes in present tense ,like every single aspect i wanted to change/have in my life. and i started fully living in the end like really got myself into and at first of course, wavering from time to time in the beginning. it was pretty easy for me since i was used to manifestation.but what i didn’t do before is persist no matter what and that’s what was really tricky for me in the beginning to persist no matter what and not just give up to bullshit 3D. but when i kept moving forward no matter the 3D and made it facts the only my 4D matters and everything has already happened, ALL and every single wish down to the last one flowed into my life. ONE by ONE every single hour of the day i would get my manifestations down to the last letter i wrote in my notes.every single thing

success storyy

in a matter of few weeks like really 3 week-ish like- 1 month max.

starting off LUCK i’m extremely lucky now every single time i play gambling activities i win. i’ve won insane amounts at scratch cards i think i’ve won in total more than 5’000$. JUST FROM SCRATCH CARDS.and before i started i NEVER EVER WON. now whenever i play there’s not one time that i’ll win absolutely nothing even just a small prize

won huge lottery prize (from 200 to 12k the biggest i’ve won yet)

winning a gambling games, either online or dice rolling luck,bets, bingos etc.. its literally insane every one keep telling that i literally has got god’s blessing (i’m the god guys🥰)

financially freedom, my parents upgraded jobs and i’ve got lots of incomes + the money my parents give me 

all the debts my dad had, he got rid of ALL of them and when i tell you mf had a lot of em☠️

move out in a new huge ass condo which is a duplex (like really like i wrote it it’s actually scary how powerful we are..) I’VE FINALLY GOT MY OWN ROOM and we’re getting my desired furnitures and decorating the house i’m so grateful

friends and popularity i think biggest shock for me is really this. like my social life has gone from very paisible to completely fully booked and passioning life. like seriously i’ve been to more parties, concerts, birthdays, and hangouts during the last 2 weeks holidays than in my entire life

got lot of new friends, healthy relationships and quality time passed on lots of fun activities and sm memories

black groups friend. WITH AN S.so thankful to myself to be this good a manifestation i litteraly got into a black friend group of girls and i’ve never felt more at my place and understood this much. and these girls know the black group boys (when i tell you that 2y ago they were the person that i wanted to be close with so bad..also they’re really hot and funny lol)so we hung out with them and i was literally so highlighted and became pretty much friends with all of them !! 

my man. HELLO I LITERALLY MANIFESTED MY DREAM RELATIONSHIP? when i met him i didn’t actually realize right on the spot that he was exactly how i wanted him to be and reading back to when i scripted out all the things i wanted at the beginning, everything matched. he’s literally physically and mentally the man of my dream LIKE REALLY. we’re no bf and gf YET cause it’s just a little soon but we see each others super often and we have the best relationship ever i swear it’s giving wattpad. the flirting is crazyyy.

dream bod.from head to toe my desired body. heavy on the lower body all for that azz and wide hips.ive got smooth and clear skin and smell good all the time!! litteraly flawless face + got my braces which suits so much and dimples

plenty of vacations (went to ibiza, usa and dubai )

lenient parents they use to be so strict before i swear its crazy they let me go so easily now, i can hangout without asking 3 days ,like they accept even if i've gotta go in the next hour or if wanna go on trip that's in another country. i can come back home so much later too

attractive & magnetic aura + being really charismatic (everyone i met keep telling me i’ve got this thing that really makes them want me, get closer to me)

good grades without doing much

perfect self-concept - as i kept living 24/7 in the state of wish fulfilled, my self concept only got better making me really know what i’m worth and never wavering/ going back to the old story

whole ass pc set up

all of my desired skincare/makeups/shoes/clothes

and so much more...

outro

i hope y'all liked my blog and that it motivated some of you to NEVER GIVE UP cause y'all are reallyy some powerful mfs and y'all already got all of yours desires !!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ honey kisses, shayama

[nathaslosthershit]

First Impressions and Poorly Made Assumptions (FC43)

Summary: Franco fell hard and fast for a girl that is actively trying to keep her distance, but she knows she has already lost that battle.

Not many people can say they signed with Williams to join their drivers academy, a contract that would secure a future in F1, and met the love of their life in the same business meeting. But Franco was happy to tell you about it till he was blue in the face.

That is, if he was allowed to tell anyone about it, but alas, no one was to know that Franco had fallen hard and fast for the eldest daughter of Williams legend, Jenson Button. Not even the girl he had fallen for.

Miss. Button wasn’t one for the spotlight. She used to love the attention, but it never managed to be good attention she attracted. 

Her knack for being at the wrong place at the wrong time when it came to reporters and paparazzi finding her far from her best moments had also given her a public image not unlike Jenson ‘playboy’ Button had in the early stages of his career. 

The only difference is that many of those instances made him a bachelor just enjoying his youth and good looks, while they just made her a ‘whore’.

It didn’t help that enough of the bad press caused her to purposefully hide from the spotlight. They only ever saw the bad she didn’t want them to see.

But that had been when she was a teenager. At 21 years old, the public had not gotten more than a small glimpse of her in the background in a while, not since she was accused of sleeping around with the then Williams Academy driver, Logan Sargeant. 

Her and Logan had never done such things. Had there ever been feelings between them, which there had not, being her father’s unofficial mentee meant she wouldn’t have taken a risk in ruining that dynamic for any of them. Her dad loved her more than anything, but he really liked Logan and wouldn’t have been too pleased to have to pick a side. 

The bad press had ruined their friendship, unable to not let the public views of them get in the way, plus with Logan about to secure a spot in the second Williams seat, neither could afford for gossip and rumors to ruin his career so early on. 

Despite how bad Williams publicly handled situations, they did not like any bad press. 

Which is why she handles any work related relationships with care, keeping it completely professional. Unfortunately, keeping it completely professional meant she grew a reputation for being a stuck up bitch. 

She could never win.

The lack of personal relationships at work hadn’t impacted her job before, working in the academy’s media coordination meant she planned things, set them up, and made sure everyone got where they needed to be, but that's all she had to do and she was damn good at it. Even if some of her coworkers were afraid of her, it usually made them easier to work with. But a need for more led her to finding a new position, one that complicated this attitude she had towards her colleges. It would be hard to be a driver relations coordinator when not allowing yourself to develop more than an acquaintance with the drivers. But she was determined to not let it change her ways. 

So when she sat a seat away from the newest academy driver, one that was her age, she tried not to think about how she would be the person in charge of advocating for him, fighting for him, knowing what he was getting and what he needed. She tried not to think about how her job required her to care for his well being. She tried not to think about how the minute she heard him speak in that meeting, her stomach did somersaults. She tried not to think about his brown curls and what it would be like to-

“Um… Miss.Button?” James Vowles said.

“I’m sorry, yes?” she was totally not listening.

“I just thought you would like to introduce yourself to Mr.Colapinto here, as you too will be working closely together during his time at the academy.” 

Before she could begin to make her introduction, the newest academy driver spoke up, “It is very nice to meet you. I was very excited when I heard you would be a part of my team.” 

She wanted to roll her eyes at that. He probably saw what the public saw about her and thought she would be an easy lay. The realization seemed to hurt more than usual for some reason. 

“Yes, well, I would appreciate it if you didn’t make my job harder.”

The room seemed to laugh at this, but she was not joking. 

As everyone packed up after the meeting, as all her colleagues talked about their day and made plans after work, she pretended to busy herself on her computer so as to not draw attention to the fact that no one would talk to her, focusing on maintaining a cool and uncaring demeanor. 

When she finally left the room, a few minutes after the last person cleared, she was startled by a curly haired argentinian on the other side of the door. 

Unfortunately, she was unable to remain cool and uncaring when she screamed, embarrassingly loud.

“Shhh I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Franco said as he waved off the people down the hallway that all peaked out of their rooms to see who was seemingly being murdered in cold blood. “Wow, I did not think you would react like that.”

Unable to stop herself, she angrily asked, “Why the fuck would you wait behind a door to scare a girl you had just met? One, may I add, that has the power to make sure you have a terrible time at the academy.” A great first impression they were making.

“I wasn’t trying to scare you!” She didn’t buy it. “Okay, maybe a bit, but if I knew it would upset you so much, I wouldn’t have. This isn’t how I wanted the conversation to go.”

“Well it is how it's going, and I don’t care to continue it, so it was nice meeting you, Franco.” She snipped at him as she began to walk away, ignoring his calls from behind her. As she got farther, she hurt a groan in defeat and smiled realizing he had given up, quickly looking back to see that he had in fact left. 

She had calmed down from the interaction by the time she approached her office, in fact she actually felt a bit bad for yelling at him.

That was until she opened the door and the man she had thought she lost popped up from behind the door. Again.

This time, she didn’t yell. She just glared at him.

Franco, now frightened and a little turned on, wished she had just screamed. 

Silently, she walked over to her desk and sat down, turning on her computer and beginning to do work, ignoring the man in the room, or trying to.

She was actually just typing nonsense, hoping he wouldn’t notice he was distracting her too much to do work. 

After a few minutes of silence, she heard a familiar groan and saw him sit down in front of her.

Neither spoke, neither wanted to bite first.

Luckily the driver didn’t have the patience the coordinator did. “Come on, we won’t be able to work together if you don’t talk to me.”

“We can work just fine this way.” She said, not looking away from her computer.

“I don’t want to work that way, I want to get along. I want to be friends.”

“Why, Franco? You don’t know me! You are basing your entire perception of me off of what the public thinks. You are here because you think I will be someone easy to get with.”

“Huh? No, I’m not.” “Yes! There are two versions of me the motorsport world knows. Either some irresponsible teenager who was constantly getting into scandals, or some stuck up bitch who works for Williams and had an affair with our rookie F1 driver”

“What! No! That isn’t why I said I was excited to meet you. God, you know you are also making false accusations about me.”

“No, I’m not.” “Yes! You think I am some desperate man who is here to seduce you the second I meet you. When I said I was excited when I heard I was working with you, it's because I know Sargeant and he said you were a good friend of his. That I'd be lucky to work with you.”

Of course Logan said that. Even if their friendship didn’t work through the gossip, they had been close for a while and he was one of the sweetest men she had met in this god awful sport. And as she looked at Franco, she could tell he was being genuine.

Guilt and a bit of embarrassment shot through her, “Fuck, I’m sorry, Franco. I made assumptions about you and got mad when I thought you were doing the same thing.”

He smiled, and damn that smile gave her butterflies, even if she had been mad at him seconds before. “You are forgiven, if you agree to be nice to me from now on.” “I wasn’t being mean, you did start off our first impressions of each other by scaring the shit out of me.”

He groaned, “I thought I was forgiven, can’t we just jump to being friends now?” 

She would have laughed at such a request, she didn’t make friends at work, or out of work really, but something about the way he looked at her had the refusal dying in her mouth.

He smiled when he realized the same, she already couldn’t say no to his charms.

She was fucked, but she wasnt as upset about that as she should have been.

“Fine, we can work towards a friendlier relationship, but I won’t be your friend.”

“I can work with that. Don’t worry you will love me in no time!” He said as he walked out of the room. 

Lord knows he already loved her.

[navybrat817]

Wish, Hope, Dream

Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You thought a night would be long enough to clear your head, but a bit of doubt lingers in your mind. Word Count: Over 2.6k Warnings: Slight angst, insecurities, longing, Natasha and Sharon being both good friends and devil's advocates, ongoing AU, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) Previous Part of AU: We Don't Talk Anymore A/N: More Dreamboat and Butterfly from my Reconnect AU! Sorry again in advance, lovelies. ❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You thought having answers would give you peace and allow you to rest before facing Bucky in the morning. Oh, how wrong you were. The tussle between your mind and heart didn’t stop, giving you one of the worst nights of sleep that you could remember in a long time. At least your pillow had dried from your tears.

And what was it that you were crying for? Relief that Bucky had feelings for you or were you mourning the lost time you could’ve had together had you two talked sooner? Perhaps both.

“Just get up,” you mumbled, willing yourself to get out of bed and lay out a random sundress to wear.

You wondered if anyone else was awake as you showered and brushed your teeth. Guilt crept in for skipping out on game night. Whatever transpired between you and Bucky, you couldn't let any of those feelings bleed into the rest of the time with your friends. You had to suck it up no matter the outcome.

Glancing down the hall as you left your room, your gaze lingered on Bucky’s door before your footsteps moved in that direction. You raised your hand to knock, wanting to check on him and make sure he got enough sleep. Part of you was tempted to sneak in and crawl into bed with him. Not even completely for sex, which you did not need to think about, but to have him hold you close and assure you that everything would be okay.

And to stop torturing yourself.

But you let your hand fall. You didn't want to assume that he wanted to see you first thing upon waking up. Assumptions and not communicating were what led you on this path to begin with. But you didn't want to smother him.

We can still figure it out together.

You crept downstairs, spotting a few empty bottles from the night before. The main floor was dark, minus the sunlight coming in through the windows and the kitchen. You stayed quiet when you saw Natasha and Sharon huddled together in a hushed conversation by the counter.

Which stopped the moment you walked into the room.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that they were talking about you. Not with the concerned look in Sharon’s eyes. Natasha, on the other hand, stared back at you in contemplation. At least it wasn't pity. You couldn't take that.

Did Bucky tell them? Or did they figure it out?

“Hey. Sorry for skipping game night,” you said, shifting on your feet as your gaze flickered between them. “Guess Steve and Sam aren't up yet?” You asked, purposely not mentioning Bucky.

“Don’t need to apologize,” Sharon said, concern continuing to show in her eyes. “I think they’re getting a run in.”

“Oh. Gotcha,” you said. Looking between them again, you hoped things wouldn't be this awkward for the rest of the week. “Am I interrupting? I can just grab breakfast when you two are done.”

“Not interrupting. Go sit in the living room,” Natasha urged, nodding toward the direction of the couch. “Look like you could use a pick-me-up.”

“Smoothie?” You guessed, glancing around at the array of fruit ready for blending.

“Oh, yeah. Better than coffee,” the redhead teased as she threw a few pieces into the blender with some ice, bringing a small smile to your face as you went back to the living room. She was a good friend.

All of them were.

“You okay?” Sharon asked, sitting beside you on the couch.

You hesitated for a moment. You adored them and always would. But when it came to Bucky, you feared everyone would always side with him over you. Your chest tightened at the thought that if things went south you’d get left behind.

And hadn't you been left behind once before?

“Yes and no,” you answered, not wanting to expand completely yet as Natasha walked in and handed you a glass, your hands gripping it tight. They didn't need to deal with your issues, did they? “Did Bucky talk to everyone? I’m guessing he said something since you two are looking at me like I'm going to break.”

“We don’t think you’re going to break, but you look on edge,” Natasha answered, taking a seat when you didn't disagree. “The guys talked to him a little bit. He wouldn't give them all the details, but we know you two had a long overdue chat.”

“And the way you bolted upstairs last night and how he looked like a kicked puppy, we guessed it didn't go well,” Sharon added, raising an eyebrow. “I think Nat wanted to kick his ass.”

“He looked like he kicked his own ass. Would've just been rubbing salt in an open wound if I did anything else,” she said with no trace of humor. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It may help,” Sharon said.

Maybe.

With a deep breath, you told the girls what had happened. How you and Bucky admitted that you had feelings for each other, which neither of them appeared surprised by in the least, but that you walked away from him once the talk was over. How you wished you would’ve given him a chance then and there, but didn’t. It helped and hurt to tell them about it.

You hung your head by the time you finished, your throat tight. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, swallowing a little. “This is supposed to be a fun trip and I’m messing it up with my issues.”

Sharon rubbed your back as you took a sip of your smoothie. “Hey. You’re our friend. You didn't do anything wrong or mess anything up, okay? We all love Bucky, but he's an idiot.”

“Huge idiot. Don't know what you see in him,” Natasha winked as you scoffed. You would always try to see the good in him, even when you were upset. “But I have to say, I’m glad you two finally told each other how you feel.”

“Took you long enough,” the blonde teased halfheartedly. “Kind of hoped you would've said something before we showed up.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks. The gang ran late to the beach house on purpose. Of course, they did. The girls were perceptive. Always had been. “So, you knew.”

“Everyone knew, except for the two of you. What’s that trope?” Natasha questioned, her gaze directed at Sharon. “Idiots in love?”

“Oh, yeah,” she smiled. “You two are a walking romance novel, torturing yourselves for no good reason.”

“So, I'm an idiot then?” you said, narrowing your eyes when they both opened their mouths. “You know what? Don’t answer that.”

You beat yourself up enough.

“Like I said, I’m glad you told him and now you finally have confirmation that he feels the same way,” Natasha said, cocking an eyebrow. “What's the problem then?”

“What do you mean?” You replied.

“You said you took the night to think, but you don't exactly look like you're ready to move forward.”

“Because I don't know if I am,” you admitted.

You were overthinking the situation. You wanted to be with Bucky, but some of your wall was still up and you didn't know how to tear the rest of it down. Why was it so hard?

“Look, I'm not excusing what Bucky did because he's an idiot for going out with Dot instead of talking to you, but you know how he feels now,” Natasha began, diplomatic and level-headed like always. “Do you plan to keep him at a distance as a way to protect yourself? Or are you maybe punishing him just a little bit for seemingly abandoning you?”

Leave it to her to ask the tough questions.

“I'm not trying to punish him,” you promised. Both of you had punished yourselves enough. “I just don't want him to hurt me. I mean, I spent two years thinking he'd never want me, but he just didn't want to fight for me,” you said, tears brimming your eyes.

“Or maybe he thought he never stood a chance and settled,” Sharon said. “Which, again, he’s an idiot. Most guys are.”

“So, what are you saying? That I should just pretend the last two years didn't happen?” You asked.

“No,” they said in sync.

You huffed. Why were girls both direct and cryptic? “Then what are you saying?”

Natasha grabbed a tissue and handed it over when a tear slid down your cheek. “We’re saying that we think Bucky is genuinely sorry for his stupid assumption and wants you to be his girl. Start slow if you have to and set the ground rules. If it means him apologizing every day with his words and actions, he will. And we know if you gave him your heart, it would be the last thing he'd break. Don’t you owe it to yourself to be happy?”

“Yeah. Maybe just start with a date,” Sharon said, tilting her head when you didn’t say anything. They were only trying to help, but why did it feel like pressure of sorts? Did they fully understand your apprehension? “You really don't see how he looks at you, do you?”

“Why would I when I convinced myself he'd never want me?” You whispered.

Bucky had convinced himself of the same thing. Maybe the two of you were idiots. How long would you continue to torture yourself? They had a point. Why not start with one date and see where it led?

What would be the harm in that, besides risking your whole heart?

“Well, we see how he looks at you,” Sharon said, her eyebrows shooting up. “Wait. I have it.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes. “Have what?” She asked. You wondered the same thing.

The front door opened before you got your answer, your heart skipping a beat when Bucky stopped in the doorway with a beach bag in hand. You realized after a moment that he was still in the same clothes he wore the day before, his eyes bloodshot as he looked your way. His hair was disheveled, too. He didn’t look like he slept well, if at all.

It broke your heart.

“Hey, Butterfly,” he croaked when you got to your feet, clearing his throat with a tired smile. “You look beautiful.”

“It’s just a sundress, Dreamboat,” you said, the compliment making your stomach flip before you took a step toward him. “Are you okay?”

His eyes lit up. “You’re still calling me that?”

“Of course, I am.” you smiled softly. He’d always be your Dreamboat. “Did you get any sleep?” You added, sighing when he confirmed your suspicion with a shake of his head. Had you been on his mind? “Why not?”

He gripped the bag handle like a lifeline. “I needed to find a way to say I’m sorry. Tried writing a letter and it wasn't enough.”

Your heart swelled, glancing back at the girls as they both gave you an encouraging smile. “Look. Before you do anything, why don’t you take a nap?” You suggested. “It’s still early and I’m not going anywhere.”

“A nap sounds like a good idea before volleyball,” Natasha said, leveling Bucky with a look. “In fact, why don’t you get him to bed?”

“Nat,” you hissed. Of course, she’d suggest you take him upstairs.

“Yeah, we’ll catch up with you two in a bit,” Sharon said.

The hopeful look in Bucky’s eyes was irresistible. “Come on,” you said, taking his arm once he kicked his shoes off. You felt his gaze on you as you took him up the stairs. It amazed you that he didn’t trip over his own feet since he kept his eyes on you. “I can tell you’re staring at me.”

“I half expected you to be gone this morning,” he said, opening his door. “I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

Your stomach dropped. “You think I’d bolt after the conversation we had?” You asked. Did he think little of you now?

He chuckled under his breath. “I said half expected,” he teased.

Instead of releasing your arm, he pulled you into his room before you could protest. It wasn’t a good idea to be there, yet there you were. Not fighting it as he pulled you toward the bed.

His large, inviting bed.

“So, what’s in the bag?” You asked curiously to distract yourself as he set it down and stretched out on the bed, pulling you down with him. He gave you plenty of room so you wouldn’t have to cuddle close. He also left the door cracked open.

He was giving you an out.

“I can’t show you yet because I have to put it together,” he yawned, giving you an apologetic smile. “It’ll spoil the surprise otherwise.”

A giddy smile appeared on your face. He was actually going to make you something. “I’ll be patient,” you said, letting him keep your hand in his.

“Haven’t we been patient long enough?” He asked, his hair falling in his eyes as he gazed at you. Even exhausted, he was breathtaking. “I know you needed the night to think it over.”

The smile fell from your face, silence stretching in the room before you squeezed his hand. “Bucky, you need to get some sleep.”

He couldn’t mask the dejected look on his face. It wasn’t an outright rejection, but you hadn’t exactly declared that you should move forward. “I couldn’t sleep,” he said, his voice thick. “All I could see were the tears in your eyes and knowing I caused them.”

“It’s okay,” you told him. It was an assurance for yourself, too. You were okay and he hadn't tried to hurt you.

“It’s not okay,” he argued, the familiar determination back in his eyes. “And I don’t want to sleep. I want to make you smile. I want to win you a stuffed animal at the carnival.”

“You promised me that at dinner yesterday,” you teased.

“I want to take you dancing,” he added, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

You could easily picture him smiling as he twirled you around and moved to the beat. Maybe that could be your first actual date. “As long as you don’t step on my feet.”

“I want to take you to bed,” he whispered,

You inhaled, your heart pounding at the implication. “Bucky…”

“I want to hear about your day. The little things, even the details that you think are mundane,” he said, scooting a bit closer. “I want to be the one you talk to and depend on again.”

Each declaration worked its way into your heart. Why couldn’t you just take the leap of faith? “We can’t just-”

“I want you to be my girl,” he said, his face inches from yours. “I want to give you everything.”

Your heart screamed at you to comfort him, kiss him, to tell him the same. “Bucky, you’re not giving me anything until you get some sleep,” you whispered, resting a hand on his cheek. He needed rest. “Please, for me?”

“I’m afraid if I close my eyes, I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone,” he whispered, fighting to keep his eyes open. “I can't lose you again.”

You didn't want to lose him either. “You won't lose me because I’m not going anywhere. I said we’d figure this out together and I meant that,” you promised, needing to give him hope. “Close your eyes. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He finally shut them as he breathed out, “Butterfly, I lo…”

You gasped as Bucky trailed off, smiling to yourself as your eyes misted over. You weren’t going to run. Not from him. Not when you owed it to yourself to be happy.

You told yourself that as his phone rang.

Even as Dot’s name showed on the screen.

It's fine, lovelies! 😭 Things will look up. Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[nana-au]

JJK Men React to Finding Out You Like Them

G.Satoru, G.Suguru, I.Yuji, F.Megumi

(I got carried away with Gojo's.. mb)

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

G.Satoru: You could not stand him and his stupid, annoying, ugly (undeniably pretty) face.

Shoko and Geto swore you two bickered like an old married couple. The two of you would scoff, sometimes even pushing each other’s shoulders just to remind the other one who was stronger. It was down right childish the way you both interacted with each other. Pinching and hair pulling. Arguing over who was right and wrong, sometimes even arguing against obvious facts just to piss the other one off. You couldn’t stand his pompous attitude and he couldn’t stand the fact you weren���t in awe of him like he believed you should be. He made every hair on your body stand straight just by his voice or the way his figure loomed over you as he teased you. 

“What’s this for?” He mocked, pinching your cheek you dusted with blush. 

“None of your business,” you assured him, attempting to punch him in the gut. He would swiftly dodge it, continuing to mock you. 

“Surely it isn’t for a boyfriend. I feel bad for any guy dumb enough to be interested in you,” his glasses would slide down his nose as he looked over your figure. You didn’t hesitant to tell him to suck a dick, and it didn’t even cross his mind to not tell you that you wished you could suck his. “I’d never let you though,” he assured you and you would huff out a ‘thank God!’. You would attempt to storm off, but he kept body blocking you, and you were adamant on not making bodily contact with the guy. “Where are you going?” he quizzed and you begged him to drop it - that it was none of his business. You were getting really worked up, more so than usual. His assumption wasn’t necessarily wrong, you were trying to leave for your date with a barista from the coffee shop you frequented in Tokyo. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll have to let Sensei know. Can’t have you up to no good.” 

“Then go tell him!” you huffed. You were going to be running late if the asshole in front of you wouldn’t move. “God Gojo, you are so childish,” he only stuck his tongue out at you. You were about to start shaking with anger and against your better judgment you confessed to him. “Fine! It’s a date, make fun of me all you want when I get back,” your chest was heaving and your blood was hot. To your sudden shock, Gojo stepped out of your way wordlessly and watched as you took off out the doors. 

The next few days felt like the Twilight Zone. You did your makeup again and Gojo didn’t even bother to flick your cheeks. When you mentioned to Shoko how nice the weather was, he didn’t argue that it was ‘Just alright’. While Suguru, Gojo, and you were taking turns sparring, he didn’t hide the defeat in his face when you kicked dirt onto him after knocking him on his ass. To you, that was really the last straw. You started to feel evil for continuing your usual antics while he just took it. A few more days went by of you both ignoring each other until one afternoon you were eating lunch with Shoko talking about your date. Geto and Gojo took their usual seats across from you as you both discussed what transpired. “Maybe he doesn’t want to sound needy,” she said when you mentioned he hadn’t texted you back still. 

“He probably thinks you're ugly,” Gojo said nonchalantly. It was the first sentence he had spoken to you in days and you had to keep your jaw from dropping to the floor. You weren’t even sure if he really spoke or if you imagined it. Perhaps your brain was filling in the words you wanted to hear from him. Not that you wanted him to call you ugly per se, but the silence from him was worse than the insults. 

“So he talks.” His eyes rolled cartoonishly at your words. He stuck a spoonful of rice in his mouth before talking,

“Giv-up,” he mumbled, some rice spilling out of his mouth. Your face contorted with disgust. He swallowed, continuing, “You're unlikeable”.

“Yeah ‘cause you’re so likable yourself,” you scoff. He continued eating and the table dropped it, all choosing to change the topic. 

Honestly, you were sure that would be your last conversation with Gojo. You went about your days without his obnoxious presence. You went on another date and were getting fairly close with your favorite barista, even inviting him to meet Shoko. You all agreed to meet up at his cafe and you were awed as he described to you the drinks he made you two. You sipped them and listened as he rambled on about the ristretto shots and the milk foam. Shoko grew bored quickly, but she was happy you were happy. 

The bell attached to the door chimed, and the blood in your face drained, leaving you sickly pale. Gojo waved to you, pointing out to Geto where the three of you sat and dragged him along. “What is he doing here?” you frantically asked Shoko. She covered her face to hide her amusement, she had to give it to him, he was about to make this deathly boring conversation into an incredibly entertaining one. 

“Since when do you drink coffee?” Gojo asked you, pulling up a chair and sitting next to you. “I thought caffeine made you sick?” he pouted at you, pulling away the latte. He wasn’t wrong, you did tend to feel unwell after having caffeine, but since when did he care? 

“I can handle myself, Gojo,” you spat. Gojo ignored you, taking two big gulps from the mug and finishing it then and there. 

“Wow you made this?” he asked the guy. He nodded, looking incredibly confused. “Tastes like shit.” With a quickness you were out of your chair and pulling Gojo by the collar of his button down. “Be right back,” he snickered to the barista as you dragged him out the door. 

“What is your problem?” You begged. He looked shocked, telling you him and Geto were just walking by when he saw you and Shoko. You were bewildered by the way he was acting, completely stumped as to what you should even say. His hand grabbed yours that was still gripping his collar. He pulled it off and pushed it against the wall, his hand caging yours as he leaned against your intertwined fingers. His eyes watched your lips as you kept opening them to speak, but closing them when you kept losing your words. 

“Is this not what you wanted?” His words were breathy and hard to hear. “I know you are doing this-” His free hand gesturing to your figure, “to get a reaction from me.”

“You’ve really lost it now, Gojo,” you couldn’t hide the blush though. He smiled at you regardless, and your legs began to feel weak. It hit you like a truck. His smile was cocky and genuine. It wasn’t coated with his usual delusional smirk, but an all-knowing, teeth-showing grin. It was then you grew nauseous with the knowledge Suguru snitched on your drunk confession. 

You hardly remembered that night - Geto had shared his bottle of Jack Daniel’s and you were too much of a lightweight to keep yourself from admitting to him that you enjoyed Gojo’s teasing. That you were infatuated with the white-haired sorcerer and you had really started to like him. That his cocky attitude was not a turn off like you tried to convince yourself and that when he stood over you, making you feel small, you weren’t mad at him but mad you enjoyed the feeling of being towered over by him. 

“I’m not dating just to make you jealous,” you tried to stand up for yourself. You really weren’t, the guy just asked you and you had nothing better to do. You got free drinks out of it too- really that was all it was. 

“How could I be jealous when I know you like me?”

In Suguru’s defense, when you called him a traitor he assured you it was an accident. He just wanted to get Satoru out of his funk. The day he caught you looking all dolled up, just to find out it was for another man, he couldn’t get out of his own head. He also didn’t understand why he couldn’t. He pestered his best friend for days over it and Suguru had to throw in the towel. You liked him because he heard it from you. And Satoru liked you because he knows his best friend more than anyone. 

It was all worth it in the end, because things went back to normal. (Except for the small detail that Satoru and you were now a couple). 

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

G.Suguru: The older boy’s reaction made you swoon.

You were a year below him at Jujutsu Tech and you were in awe of his cursed technique and if you were forced to be honest, in awe of him. You must’ve looked like a lost puppy following him around when you insisted on watching him train, joining him to find a snack at the convenience store, and insisting on learning about all the curses he had under his control. He was so kind about it too - always dismissing Gojo when he would groan about how insistent you were. “How can you put up with her? She doesn’t have her own life,” he would say, poking his tongue out.

 “She’s just curious, Satoru,” he would reply. He wouldn’t kid himself though, he found you absolutely adorable and didn’t mind having you under his arm all day. You weren’t much younger than him, but you felt as though he held infinite wisdom. Your eyes would twinkle up at him as he shared stories of his missions and his lips would tingle watching yours twitch with ‘oohs” and “ahhs”. He adored the way you would watch him as he ran around the track, shirtless and dripping with sweat. When you joined him he couldn’t help but keep your pace just so he could keep his attention on you. You didn’t know this when you finally confessed, but he was as infatuated with you as you were with him. He was obsessed with how obsessed you were with him. He was by no means struggling in attracting women, but to have you be so casually faithful to him, it was too hard to not take advantage of. 

The day you decided to dress up really pretty for your weekly Tuesday walk to Tokyo for lunch at his favorite place was the day you officially confessed. You wore the skirt the two of you saw one day while window shopping - the one he said reminded him of something you would wear. You even applied lip gloss even though you despise the fact your hair always gets stuck in it. “What’s got you looking all pretty?” he would muse. 

“Sugu, I like you,” you admitted, quick like pulling off a bandaid. You hadn’t even made it out of the school’s grounds when you confessed. He held out his arm to stop you and blocked the way with his tall figure. 

“I already knew that, little one,” he cooed. “Let’s go, we don’t want to be late,” he grabbed your small hand in his and continued forward. It wasn’t an official response, but you knew him so well that it was official enough for you.

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

I.Yuji : You swear the boy must be dumb.

Your friends would definitely describe you as the shy type. You never talked out of turn or made your true feelings known so blatantly - but with Yuji - you were really trying. If Yuji said he was hungry, you would always be there to hand him his favorite candy. When his face was caked with dirt and sweat after a mission, you were there with a cloth to clean him up. If he so much as got a paper cut you would insist on applying a bandaid to his finger. You couldn’t tell if you liked helping him more than he liked being helped. He would always smile at you, warm and sincere. His eyes would hold yours, cheeks flushed a light pink. The way he would look at you, head angled down to get a good look at your face, the innocent scrunch of his eyebrows..

“You’re such an amazing friend,” he would say and you had to blink to keep your eyes from rolling back into your head. 

One day as he was happily sipping the ice cold tea you bought him, munching on the little pastry you went out of your way to get after he announced - very loudly - how starved he was, you decided enough was enough. 

“I like you,” You told him bluntly. He finished chewing his last bite before telling you he liked you too. 

“You’re a really good friend,” he smiled. You could feel your body begin to shake as you repeated what you said. 

“I like-like you, Yuji. Not friend-like. Like-Like.” Your hands went to grip the grass beneath you, desperately trying to ground yourself. His eyebrows scrunched, as if he was trying to process your confession. You couldn’t hold his eyes when he didn’t immediately respond. You turned your attention to Maki and Nobara who were training not far in front of you. Your eyes couldn’t focus on their figures as your body shouted at you to get up and bury yourself in bed for the day. His hand found your thigh, and you jumped slightly. When your eyes met him again, you swore you never saw him look so serious. His lips were in a thin line, eyes twinkling. 

“Maybe I like-like you too,” he spoke only above a whisper and you melted on the spot.

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

F.Megumi: The boy was always in his own little world

That’s what you really liked about him. His ability to be quiet, observant, and at times lost in his own thoughts. All though, trying to get him to notice your crush on him would be harder than pulling all of your toenails off one by one. You would lay in Nobara’s bed as she admired the outfits she bought that day, trying her best to ignore your groans. 

“I should just give up now,” you whined. You had finished a long winded rant about Megumi, how he never reacted to your attention in the way you craved him to. 

“You should give up. I’m sick of hearing it,” Nobara lovingly teased. “Or you could just tell him,” You would gasp at the idea and bury your head into her pillow. 

You always found yourself to be the type of girl to read everyone’s feelings. People were like books to you, except for him. Before joining Jujutsu Tech, flirting was second nature to you. But when you saw his messy black hair and cold blue eyes your brain short circuited. You sure would try to flirt though. Giggling at his jokes he thought no one heard or playing with your hair in conversation. You would buy a new perfume and ask him to smell you, or ask if he liked the way you did your makeup that day. He would flush red and obey your asks. He would tell you that you smell great or that your eyelashes looked really pretty, but he would end it there. 

A couple days had passed since your rant to Nobara and the four of you were out in Tokyo. Yuji had insisted you all join him to the movies, and with nothing better to do you all obliged. At the theater you paid for your drink and popcorn and made your way to your movie when you noticed Nobara and Megumi weren’t following behind you. You shrugged it off and sat down with Yuji to watch the previews. The lights had already dimmed and the movie just started by the time Nobara came with Megumi in tow. “Sit,” she commanded him, referring to the spot next to you. You watched as Megumi - stiff as a board- took the seat beside you, and continued to shuffle around in his seat trying to get comfortable. 

“What happened?” you whispered to him, scared of what Nobara had done to make him act so odd. He didn’t respond and kept his eyes glued to the screen. It went on like that for a while, him still squirming awkwardly in his seat and when a jump scare came on screen and he didn’t react you turned to him again. “You act like you saw a ghost,” you joked to him. He replied dead serious.

“Just saw Nobara, that’s all.”

“What did she do?” You weren’t really sure you even wanted to know. After what seemed like hours of silence he asked if you really did like him. 

“Is it true what Nobara said?” Your mouth fell open and he was now completely facing you. You were all there for a screening of a horror movie and right now the main character was in a dark basement making it hard to see any light on Megumi’s face. From what you could see though, he looked flustered but maintained his eye contact with you. Thanks to Nobara it was now or never, and you meekly shook your head at him. He scratched the back of his neck and you could see his Adam's apple bob in his throat. Your face was hot watching him process your confession, not sure if you wanted to punch Nobara or thank her for finally putting you out of your misery. Even if it did mean Megumi no longer wanted to be near you. “I’ve just never had someone tell me that,” he finally spoke. ‘I don’t hate you, just give me time to process that,” he asked. You nodded and turned back to the screen, trying to focus on the protagonist dodging death. You had grown as stiff as him and noticing, he put his hand on your thigh, squeezing it lightly as reassurance. You both were red in the face, eyes glued to the front of the theater but not actually watching what was on it, lost in your thoughts. The process wasn’t smooth for you two, but your confession made Megumi realize his own feelings. Why he felt nervous when you were in the room and why he doubted his words before speaking to you. You both worked on it together, and your confidence with each other grew. It wasn’t long before you two went to Tokyo alone or sat in each other’s room late at night just talking. Megumi was your boyfriend by the end of the year, and you felt as giddy around him as the day you first met him. 

[marvelouslizzie]

You're Stuck with Me - Co-written with @notafunkiller

Summary: When you find out your boyfriend's cheating on you with his best friend, you immediately tell Bucky Barnes about the affair and propose revenge sex.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 6.9K

Warnings: 18+ smut, cheating, revenge fuck, language, oral sex (female receiving), protected and unprotected sex, praise and degradation mix, pet names, teasing, no mention of y/n

A/n: We are getting a little out of our comfort zone with this story. I hope you will enjoy it.

Please give my lovely co-writer @notafunkiller a follow. She's an amazing writer. You should definitely check her Bucky Barnes stories.

All work is ours, please do not repost or translate without our permission.

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message us. Unless it’s hate. That’s never welcome.

"Are you sure?" Bucky asks, finishing your bottle of sparkling water. "I don't want you to cry and regret it after."

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” You sound so confident that even you are surprised. “It’s just sex.”

"Just sex." He repeats with his eyebrows raised. "You never seemed to me like the type of girl who would go for just sex, doll."

“Maybe you should’ve paid a little more attention. You would’ve realized you might have the wrong kind of impression.”

"Oh, really?" He leans in amused. "Big words."

“They're not. You just aren’t used to talking to me.”

"You're telling me you're not a commitment girl?" He presses the matter, not believing you even a little. You two might not be friends, but he figured out what type of person you are.

“I’m just saying I won’t regret having sex with you. The rest is your assumption.”

His gaze immediately drops to your chest. "You trust my skills that much?"

You roll your eyes. “Do you have to be this arrogant all the time?”

"Do you have to be a brat all the time?" He doesn't wait for your response, though, as he continues. "Oh wait, you can't help it. Totally in your nature."

“So women who don't stroke your ego are brats? Maybe I just don’t care that much about you. Did you consider that?” There’s a hint of anger in your voice but nothing more. He always manages to challenge you and push your buttons. “Maybe you aren’t the only one who didn’t like those double dates. Get off your high horse.” You add without missing a beat. You realized how bored and uninterested he was then. No matter what topic you were bringing up, he wasn’t open. That’s one of the reasons why you believe he thinks he’s better than anyone.

"Fuck." He shakes his head. "You and that mouth of yours. Do you see me going around and calling women brats?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer. “Those dates were absolutely horrible. Your little boy toy is the biggest loser I've ever met."

“You seem like a guy who would do that. You are not? Ops, wrong assumption I guess.” You make a fake I am sorry face. “He’s not my boy toy but I agree, he’s a big loser.”

He smiles when you finish your sentence, so satisfied. "Why do you enjoy pushing me so much? Does it turn you on?"

“How am I pushing you? Do you think this is pushing?” You don’t budge.

"What is it then?"

“I know you don’t like me and I am just giving you back that same energy.” You tell him the truth. That’s what you always do: you give the same energy people give you. If they are kind, you are kinder. If they are assholes, you are a bigger asshole.

Bucky snorts, running a hand through his hair. "Where was this attitude hidden around him?"

You breathe out loudly, not hiding how bored you are. “Are we gonna talk all night or are we gonna do this?”

He smiles in a way you never saw him smile before he leans in even more, invading your space. "It's been that long, huh?"

You make a face. “You can’t tell me sex with her was great. I saw their little sex tapes.” You can’t deny what he’s just said, but you can deflect.

He gives you the most surprised face. "What?"

“You heard me. If it had been a while for me, then it must have been even longer for you.”

"Indeed." His voice doesn't betray any emotion.

“Then stop belittling me. We both have been having bad sex and we both got cheated on. You aren’t better than me.”

"When did I say that, woman?"

“You always act like you are better than everyone.”

"That's just your assumption." He paraphrases you with the biggest smile on his face

“Prove me wrong then.”

And he does, looking at you for a couple of seconds. When you don't move, he finally grabs you by your chin and kisses you. He's not hesitant or testing, he's literally trying to claim your mouth as he wants to deepen the kiss by licking your bottom lip. When you finally give him access, his hand goes to the back of your neck, the contrast between his soft touch and his passionate way of kissing making you moan.

"Your mouth…"

“What about it?” You ask while still looking at his lips.

He kisses you again, like he's starved, his hand pulling your hair a little more. He tastes like some fresh toothpaste and a little chocolate.

"So sweet, yet so bratty."

“Do you have a thing for brats for something?” You pull him by his collar and kiss him again. He might be an asshole, but he knows how to kiss.

"Maybe just for a special brat."

“What does that mean?” You stop and look into his eyes.

He lets go of your hair and lowers his hands to your waist. "Tell me to stop and I will. Tap me anywhere if you can't talk and I'll stop. Get it?"

“Yeah. Same goes for you. Any lines you don’t wanna cross?”

"Just don't call me by someone else's name." He sighs.

“Fine by me. Don’t use any pet names you used for your ex.”

"I wouldn’t dream of it. What else?" He smirks.

“No degrading.”

"So no my little whore?”

“That doesn’t sound like degrading to me but another rule: Don’t say things you don’t mean. I don’t like that heat-of-the-moment bullshit.”

He seems to like your rules. "God, how did you date that asshole for 5 months?"

“I was just giving that so-called nice guy a chance and it got me here. How did you date that bitch for 8 months?”

"Woah. Bitch? Never heard you referring to a woman like this."

“I never liked her.” You shrug. And she cheated on him. So why not?

"Why?"

“I don’t know. I always thought she was full of herself. Always looking down at people.”

"Like me." He stares at you. "I understand."

“Not like that. She always talks badly about people. Most of the time, behind their backs. She always looks for a way to steal the spotlight. I actually wondered what you saw in her.”

"I won't talk about a woman badly, especially my ex, but I guess we just want to give people a chance."

“That woman cheated on you. With someone she called her best friend after you two decided to move in together. Maybe longer. But sure, make me feel bad about calling her a bitch.”

Bucky seems to think about it for a few seconds. You appreciate his non-talking shit about my ex policy, but in this case? Not deserved. They cheated on you for months. They could have chosen to break up, but they didn't want that. They pretended they are just friends, proposed double dates, lied and hid, and made promises. Your relationships weren't working perfectly well, your sex lives seem very shitty and probably there were signs about this affair, but you cannot blame yourself or Bucky for not seeing them. You deserved the truth. You just can't believe you two are actually in this situation. Giving the wrong people a chance… never again for sure.

"You're right. This is such a fucking shitty thing. I mean, at least fucking break up with me. God, we kissed them, fucked them after they were with each other." He makes a disgusted face.

“So we practically fucked each other already, you know?” You make a joke, trying to change the mood a little. It really is fucked up.

"They didn't see us having sex though." He shakes his head. "They managed to make the lamest sex tapes in history."

“Yeah, I am still traumatized by her fake moans.”

"Fake?" He snorts.

“Yeah, I know how sex is with him. No way those moans are real.”

"Maybe they are. Maybe she enjoys it. She likes him so much they decided this fucking shitty sex is worth it." He leans in and kisses you again suddenly and you don't understand if he's angry because he regrets being with her and getting cheated on or he regrets being betrayed because he wants her so much. You know they fought a lot from your soon-to-be ex, but 8 months are something after all.

You kiss him back nonetheless, enjoying the way his lips and tongue feel. You don't remember the last time you've been kissed this good. If you've ever been with someone like this… he's basically eating you with his mouth.

“It won’t take long for her to regret it. Talking from experience,” you say while kissing him back. You wanna know if he wants her back or not. Not that it matters. You are just curious. Maybe he wants to make her jealous.

"What she wants doesn't matter anymore, doll." He strokes your hair when he stops kissing you so you can take a deep breath. "You called me arrogant, right?"

“Yeah?” You answer hesitantly.

"Do arrogant people ever let themselves be humiliated?" He pauses. "I don't want something like this. Someone like this. I have absolutely no desire to keep a person who does this. I am a patient person, I try to work things out, but this? Never in a fucking million years. Nothing about this relationship was right, I suppose. What about you?"

“I don’t care about him anymore.” Your response comes immediately. You were completely done with him the moment you found out about their affair. There’s no turning back. It was like a switch. That’s why you are here with Bucky. “I tried so hard to make it work, thinking relationships are hard and we gotta put some effort to make it work. All bullshit. I’m done with him. I’m done with lowering my standards. Done with 5-minute sex, and ‘you turn me on so much, I can’t help it’ excuses. There’s no going back for me.”

You see his little smirk and can't help but touch his face. He is really one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen.

"I never liked him, and you know it. That small dick energy is unbearable. I think he'd have a heart attack if he even heard us. Can you imagine?"

“I… actually can.” You can envision how that would hurt him and his insufferable ego. “God, she would hate me so much.” You smile.

"Oh, she would. She's always been jealous of you anyway."

“And he hates that you don’t even have to be nice to make people like you. Now he would have an extra reason.”

"Fuck, doll." You feel his thumb on your neck and you shiver. "I'm gonna sound crazy, but wouldn't make you feel satisfied if indeed they heard us?"

You blink, trying to understand his offer. That actually would actually give you pleasure… knowing that he suffers just like you did. You also notice the pet name he uses. You never heard him use it with his (ex) girlfriend, so he’s keeping his promise. “I’d… really like that.”

"Yeah?" He leaves a kiss on the corner of your mouth. "A voice message?"

“Sounds better than actually calling.” You turn your face a little and kiss him on the lips.

"Look at you, you ignored me for months." He bites your bottom lip lightly.

“It wasn’t like you were friendly.”

Does he even hear you?

He takes you in his arms. "Bedroom?"

“Bedroom.” You wrap your legs around his torso in agreement as he leads the way.

"Left?"

“Yeah, hurry up.”

He opens the door with his elbow, then doesn't bother to close it as he lets you down. His hands find your blouse and you hear the ripping sound before you can raise your arms.

You’re surprised but not bothered. Truth be told, you find that very hot. But you still unclip your bra.

“Fucking hell.” He manages to whisper before he leans in and grabs your breasts, his tongue licking all the way down from your neck to your nipple.

You tug on his T-shirt and try to take it off while he’s busy exploring your body.

"You hid these from me."

“Not specifically from you. Move your hands up so I can take this off.”

"From who then?" He frowns and lets go for a second so you can take it off.

“From everyone, of course.”

"God, I wanna come all over them. So pretty.”

“Maybe you should make a mental list. Come on her tits. Come inside her mouth. Come inside her pussy.”

His eyes glow, and you giggle. "Who said I didn't?"

“You did?” You sound impressed. “Wanna share?”

"Wanna share my come? Sure." His fingers find your zipper and you gasp when he takes your pants off from one try.

“Oh, you are filthier than I thought.” You say to cover your surprise.

"You thought about how filthy I am?"

“You think I didn’t consider how this would be before offering a revenge fuck?”

"When?" He takes ahold of your underwear, and you're unsure if he wants to rip it off or simply take it off.

“I just told you.”

"I thought…" He blushes, realizing he misunderstood. It's an asshole move to assume that while you were with that prick, the thought of him like this has even passed your mind. "Forget it."

“No, no, tell me.” You pull him closer by his belt. “Let’s get rid of these.”

"Did you ever think about me before today?" He helps you take off his pants while finally getting rid of your panties.

“What if I did? Does it make me a terrible person?”

"Terrible." He nods, letting the pieces of your underwear drop on the floor along with his boxers and pants before he steps out of them. "So terrible." He kisses you, his hands on your hips, bringing you closer to his cock. You didn't even have proper time to look at him. "The worst."

“I knew it.” You play along. “What about you?”

"I thought about this mouth a lot."

“Just my mouth?” You nudge him by moving your hips up.

"Thought about fucking you in the bathroom."

“When?” Did he really want to fuck you before? He never looked at you twice or at least that’s what you thought.

"A few weeks ago… we… the office. You were with your little group. They were smoking and you wore that fucking lipstick that just blew my mind away. I didn't intend to. You didn't even notice me." He kisses you again but doesn't deepen it.

Everything he said takes you by surprise. You didn’t think that he ever paid attention to you, let alone notice your lipstick and get turned on by it.

“I noticed you, but I thought you were bored. You had a grumpy look on your face most of the time. I liked your blue shirt, though. It makes your eyes pop.”

He moans. Is it so easy to make him moan? you wonder.

"I'm always grumpy and arrogant, of course."

“You don’t seem that grumpy and arrogant right now.” You gently bite his neck and then soothe the spot with your tongue.

"Fucking hell, woman." You feel him grabbing your ass. "Tell me you have a condom."

“In that drawer.” You point to it casually. “But just so you know, I’m on the pills.”

He nods, contemplating for a little while before helping you get on bed and taking a condom from your nightstand.

You don’t question why he chooses to reach for it, yet you can’t help but wonder how it would be like to feel him without any barrier. Your mouth waters at the sight of his naked body.

Maybe, maybe you should let him fuck your mouth, too. Why not?

He quickly puts the condom on and before he can climb on bed, he looks at you. "What you said earlier about the voice message, do you still stand by it?"

You realize you actually forgot about them or why you are doing this for a second. “Yeah. I want them to suffer.”

"Good." He takes his pants from the floor and finds his phone quickly. You didn't even realize he had it when you undressed him.

“So what are we doing exactly? Recording a small part and sending it?”

"Ihm." He nods. "Want that asshole to hear what your real moans sound like." He finally sits on the bed and you spread your legs further apart.

“Only my moans?” You ask while he positions himself.

"No video," he says immediately, and you giggle. That wasn’t your question, but it’s okay. You wonder if he’s being possessive with you already or it's something else.

“I meant what about your moans.”

He smiles. "Yeah, of course, but I'm not a loud person." He drops the phone close to your shoulder. "You, on the other hand… I bet you're a fucking screamer."

“I guess we'll find out. Is it recording already?”

"No, uhm, can you… The code is 0478."

“Let’s start and then we can record when it gets really loud.” You try to sound normal, but you are surprised he's just told you his passcode.

"You sure? We can trim it. I don't want to interrupt you."

"Don't worry. I'm good at multitasking." You give him a smile. "But if you wanna record the whole thing, so you can get off to it later, just say that." You can’t help but tease him a little.

"No, no, it's alright. I just want you to feel good, okay?" He smiles, his hands making their way to your thighs.

"Oh, I will. Don't worry about that." You pull him closer by wrapping your legs around his body. As he pushes inside, you start to forget what you were talking about before.

"Oh, fuck me." He groans when he sees the shape of your mouth. Such a perfect O. You feel so good and he's not even halfway inside you. "You're so wet."

"I can do that." You cheekily respond. "But we would need to change the position." You ignore his second comment.

He kisses you as if he needs to taste you again to be able to breathe, his tongue quickly finding yours once you open your mouth. Your hand gets into his hair at the same time he properly gets inside you.

You moan at the fullness. You haven't felt this stretched for so long, but it doesn't hurt. It just makes you crave more.

"Such a brat when you only needed a good cock." You know he's intentionally teasing you, so you try to find a good response.

"We'll see how good it is."

"Brat." He repeats again and moves his hands to your breast. His thrusts are not constant as he tries to test what you like.

"Put your mouth on them already." You know he wants to. He has been looking at them since he stepped inside your apartment. And you want him to do it, too. The thought itself makes you moan.

"Are you ordering me?"

"Depends. Yes, if you like that. No, if you don't."

He takes a handful of your breast in his mouth in response, not only your nipple, his thrusts getting slower, but a little deeper at the same time. The sound of his tongue licking on your skin makes you close your eyes.

The way he sucks your nipple makes you think he likes taking orders. What a great turn of events, you think.

He switches to the other one quickly, giving it the same treatment, while keeping the pace.

"Do you like it?"

“Yeah, yeah.” You quickly respond. “I love it.”

"Faster?"

“Yep, faster.” You gently push his head onto your breast again, loving the double stimulation.

He moans excitedly as he resumes licking and playing with your breasts, carefully trying to leave a hickey around your nipple. "These are mine now."

He doesn’t mean that, does he? Must be the heat of the moment, but you agreed on not doing that. So you decide to remind him. “Don’t say things you don’t actually mean, remember?”

"I didn't forget, brat. Did you?"

He bites on your nipple, gently, but you still feel it.

“So you actually mean that?” You really want to know, so you ignore the fact that he called you a brat again.

"Mean what?" He leaves a kiss on your nipple to soothe any possible pain. "That these are mine?"

“Yeah.” You sound impatient. Why is he acting clueless now?

"They are, they belong to me. So does your bratty mouth." He kisses you shortly.

You can’t deny how his words turn you on even more.

"I imagined fucking you in a bathroom that day at the office." He groans. "So terrible of me, right? Imagining you with come dripping out of you, down to your thighs as you go back to work. Months of petty silence solved."

“If I'd known my silence bothered you that much, I would have been even more silent until it drove you crazy enough to do something about it.” You move your hips up to match his rhythm. “I just thought you just preferred not speaking to me because you didn’t like me.”

"I would have screwed everything up and fucked you, you understand?" He looks you in the eye, making it clear he is honest. "I would have become a horrible person, but not even that thought would have made me reconsider."

“Yet you didn’t do anything, did you? You never acted on it. You were just a grumpy man with terrible thoughts.” You just want him to know he’s not a horrible person, yet you can’t help but tease him a little at the same time.

"And you just needed the cock of that grumpy man with terrible thoughts, huh?" His thrusts are so much faster now. You wonder: how the fuck does he expect you to answer?

All you can do is whine and moan because somehow he manages to hit all the right places.

"My little cock whore." He groans. "Mine, okay? Just like I am yours."

“Jesus fucking Christ.” You can’t help but react. You find it so hot you can barely stay still. The way he talks during sex… They would really die if they heard you two. That makes you remember… You were supposed to hit the record button.

"Just Bucky. Or James."

“Where the fuck is your phone, Bucky?” You ask while trying to find it without actually looking.

He's confused for a split second, but then he remembers what you agreed on. "To your right."

You finally find the phone and unlock it quickly before dropping it without any care as soon as it starts to record.

"Oh, doll, you're too wet for me. So good." The sound of your skin slapping and the whimpers are so loud. You can’t contain yourself even if you try.

“Faster, please,” you say without thinking. It feels like you are already close. You don’t care if you have to beg for it.

"So greedy." He cries out when he feels your hands on his ass, pulling him deeper inside you.

“Fuckk. That feels good!” You moan loudly and arch your back.

"Holy shit."

He suddenly stops, making you open your eyes and giving him an accusatory look, but then you notice the phone in his hands. Oh, you forgot about it for a second and you have no idea why.

"Are you sending it?"

"Ihm." He doesn't just lock his phone after he is done. He freaking turns it off, surprising you. “I don’t want any interruptions. Want to fuck you in peace.”

You just pull him into another kiss, more passionate this time. You feel his right hand on your tummy, tickling you a little, before stopping down, above your clit.

“You close?” You ask him to make sure because you surely are.

"I'm trying not to come," he says honestly.

“Oh, you can. I’m close, too. I just need it a little faster.” His hand on your clit already makes you realize it won’t take much for you to fall apart.

He pulls back, taking his cock almost completely out, and the emptiness makes you whine. Then he thrusts with full force, making you moan so loudly that you can’t recognize your own voice.

"Fuck, look at you. And those sounds…" He brings his thumb to your lips. "Come on, be a good girl and show me how your pretty little mouth would take my cock. The one that's inside your pussy right now, ready to come for you."

“Such a filthy mouth.” You say while moaning. “Come with me so I can take that cock inside my mouth and show you what it can do.”

"God, come, baby. Please come." He is begging you at this point. His voice is so desperate and soft.

His neediness, the way he says those words finally pushes you off the edge.

“Oh god.” You try to breathe as the orgasm takes over your body, making you shake. Your mouth opens, letting out the most unfiltered moan you've ever heard from yourself. It is pure pleasure with no thoughts, no worries. Your heart and your head are on fire, begging for more. You want this feeling to last as long as possible.

He comes shortly after you, but you don't realize it until you hear his loud groan vibrating against your chest. His hips and ass cheeks are trembling under your touch as he seems lost in his world for a few seconds. You run your fingers through his hair, waiting for him to come down from his high.

“Oh god, baby." You feel his breath on your wet skin and you sigh. "Can I live here forever?"

“That good?” You can’t help but ask. He can feel your smile without looking at you.

He looks up. "Ihm. What about you?"

“Wanna get your ego stroked?” You ask genuinely. “Promise that you’re not gonna use it against me.”

He kisses your throat. "I don't make such promises, woman."

“Then you won’t get to hear it.” You expose your throat more while talking.

"What if I eat the truth out of you?"

“Eat the truth out of me?”

"Ihm. You know… when you're under sex spell, you become truthful."

“You are welcome to try.” There’s no way you are gonna turn down another orgasm like this one.

"Perfect." He leaves another kiss on the valley between your breasts and sighs. "Have to take this off first," he says, taking his cock out with a small hiss before standing up near the bed, watching you. "Where can I throw this away?"

“There’s a trashcan in the bathroom.” You point at it while getting more comfortable on the bed.

"Be right back."

You feel something cold on your back and realize it’s his phone. You put it on the nightstand, thinking about how he turned his phone off in the middle of the sex. You make a mental note to ask him to send you that voice message later, so you can remember how good the sex felt.

He comes back with your small semi-wet towel and watches you carefully. "Look, I meant what I said about eating the truth out of you, but only if you are okay with it. I won't ask again. I could always just leave, you know? No big deal." But you can see in his face it would be a big deal. Maybe he likes your company. The sex is amazing.

“Do you wanna leave, Bucky?” You already know his answer.

"No, I don't."

“Then come here and do whatever you wanna do.”

He doesn't need to be told twice. You watch him drop to his knees and, at the same time, drag you closer to the edge of the bed as quickly as he can. You let out a surprised gasp, but it turns into a whole moan when he lifts your legs on his shoulders and starts licking you from your entrance to your clit.

“Fuck, you weren’t joking.”

He acknowledges your words by playing with his tongue around your clit. You move your hips slowly, up and down, just to create a little more friction. Your greed grows while you watch him eagerly lick every bit of your pussy.

You don't expect to feel his fingers at your entrance all of the sudden as you're focused on his tongue. And you especially don't expect him to curl two of his fingers and get them inside you at once. No warnings.

“Oh fuck, yes!” You find yourself grabbing his hair, just needing something to hold on to.

And he moans, buckling his hips in the air at the slight pain. The pace of his fingers matches his tongue, but it's not enough.

“Add the third finger.” You sound desperately close.

He is surprised, you can sense it, but he quickly does what you say, his tongue eagerly toying with your clit faster than before.

“I’m so close!” You warn.

He stops licking for a little and you try to move your hips to meet his mouth. What the fuck is he doing? No time for edging.

"What were you gonna say, doll? What did you think it would stroke my ego?"

“What?” You raise on your elbows, looking like a mess. “Really?”

"If you want my tongue, you give me an answer."

“You are unbelievable!” You sound so betrayed.

"I warned you not to cry, doll."

You really want to keep that thought to yourself, but the ache between your legs doesn’t care about your pride. “I can’t believe you are doing this right now.”

He gives you a small smile, and you see him leaning in again. You think you won, getting more comfortable, ready to come soon, but he only licks you twice, teasingly, and lets your clit go.

"Do what?"

You whine loudly. The feeling of his tongue lingers on your clit. “You wanna play dirty?” Maybe you can’t win this fight, but it doesn’t mean you can’t win others. “Fine.” You sit up a little, looking into his eyes. “It was the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Happy now?”

"Delighted. Now was it so hard? You get a reward for being my good and honest girl."

“Yeah, whatever.” You roll your eyes.

"Fucking brat," you hear him whisper right before his tongue finds your clit again, finally licking it in circles properly. He starts to move his fingers, too, and even though they are obviously not even close to the thickness of his cock, they feel incredible.

But you are too annoyed now, at the same time. A part of you just wants to hold back and not give him the pleasure of hearing you come. So he tries harder. You hear him whimpering as he takes your clit into his mouth, sucking on it. And you swallow a moan while your legs are trembling.

"Come on, baby." His fingers move faster, too. "Let it go."

Your whole body starts to shake uncontrollably, but you keep your moans to yourself, pressing your lips together tightly just out of spite. You can see he hates it, but he doesn't stop until you finish coming. And it feels amazing, but you are sure it would have been even better if you had let yourself enjoy it freely.

He sighs into your clit and leaves a kiss there before he stands up. "You're mad."

“No shit, Sherlock.”

"Ah, doll. Nothing can tame that mouth."

“More like actions and consequences. I wasn’t ready to share that, but you forced me to say it for an orgasm, so that’s what you get. An orgasm. Nothing more, nothing less.”

"Forced?" His face shows concern as he sits next to you. "That wasn’t my intention. The last thing I want is to make you feel trapped.” He seems like he’s confused. He looks around and meets your gaze again. “Do you want me to leave?"

“If you wanna leave, just leave, but if that wasn’t really your intention, you can start with apologizing.”

"I am sorry," he immediately says, taking your hands into his. "I was just trying to… be silly I guess."

“You wanted your ego stroked, I get it. We both need it after what happened, but… I don’t know. I just felt exposed.”

"I'm sorry." He kisses your cheek. "I might be a grumpy arrogant son of a bitch, but forcing…"

You start to tear up, hearing him say sorry this quickly. Fucking relationship trauma.

"Oh god, baby, I am sorry, I didn't…" he tries to wipe your tears with his thumbs. "I'm a jackass, but I swear I wasn't trying to force you. I thought it was just a game. My bad."

“No, no. This is on me. Sorry.” You try to take a deep breath. “He just never said sorry no matter how hurt I was. He always had an excuse. This is just… trauma I guess.”

"What a fucking douchebag. I can fuck him up really good, you know?" He suggests. "Just say the words."

“He’s probably already fucked up by the fact that we are fucking.” That thought cheers you up a little.

"His face deserves it, too." Bucky puffs and kisses your wet cheeks. "To be honest, this whole should I leave question comes from my relationship trauma, too. So you’re not alone. She either wanted me to leave or she left every fucking time we disagreed on something. She once threw my shoes out of the window just so I'd go. I don't know why we kept trying…"

“Oh.” You finally understand why he keeps offering to leave. It isn't about you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I thought you were just trying to get out when things get hard.”

"Don't be sorry. I prefer to talk on the spot, to be honest. Letting everything out is healthier. Don't "

“Or take a break whenever it’s needed. Doesn’t mean you have to leave though.”

"Yeah! Exactly."

You laugh a little. You never realized how similar you two are. Today is changing your perspective completely. “Your apology is accepted by the way, but under one condition.”

"What is that?'

“Tell me something about yourself that you don’t want me to know.”

He thinks for a second. "My breath smells like death in the morning. I can make your plants die if you let me."

You shake your head, amused. “That’s not good enough. Everyone’s breath smells bad in the morning.”

"What do you wanna know then?"

“Something on the same level of having your best orgasm.”

"I think you broke me."

“What?”

"You broke me." He repeats as if that is an explanation.

“In what way?”

He kisses you just as desperately as he did in the kitchen, as if this is the first time he kisses you and he can't ever get enough. "I want you for more than one time, do you understand?"

“Oh. Well… That can be arranged.”

"Yeah?" He drags you by your hips, placing you on top of his thighs.

“I would actually like that.”

He kisses you some more, letting his hands wander all over your body, stopping especially on your neck and breasts.

"You like it rough, don't you? Not complaining about me ripping your clothes off, loving the bites." He pulls your hair, just to prove his point in case you deny. You moan.

“Yeah, apparently you like it rough, too.” You don’t deny. Why would you?

"Of course I do, brat." He then turns you around suddenly. "All fours, please."

“Since you asked so nicely,” You stop for the dramatic effect and say as sarcastically as possible: “Boss.”

"Wanna make me your boss?"

“You are already acting like one.” You stand on all fours, pushing your ass back while lowering your head.

"Fuck! You're such a sight, you know?" Bucky's eyes don't leave your body.

“Am I?”

"I wanna look at you like this all day long."

You look at him amused. “I’m afraid I don’t have that much patience.”

You notice him shaking his head. "Of course."

“It’s rude to make me wait like this, you know?”

"Sorry, just wanted to remember this." Bucky feels a little bad for the thoughts he has. He mentally took a picture of you cause he can't ask this from you, right? You're not a couple, and even if you were, it doesn't mean exchanging or keeping photos like this would be okay.

His hips touch your ass as he positions himself at your entrance. "Any limits that come to your mind? I won't ask again."

“We already decided on the rules. I don’t think there’s anything besides them.”

"I'm not gonna hold back this time." Not completely… he grabs a handful of your hair as he thrusts inside you. "I'm gonna pound the fuck out of you and you're gonna take it like a good little girl, understand?"

“I understand. You won’t stop until I say stop.”

"Jesus Christ." He moans halfway inside you at the feel of your extra wet pussy. He feels out of breath just by standing still. "How…"

“Oh, fuck.” You nearly choke. It feels unbelievably good. This position is doing wonders.

"I didn't think-" he says, but at the same time doesn't move an inch. "Fuck, it feels too good, this pussy is driving me crazy. You are driving me crazy." He grips your hair harder without warning and starts to thrusts properly inside you, making sure to squeeze your left breast with his free. The sounds of your wet skin slapping make him curse under his breath.

“You didn’t think what?” You sound out of breath already.

"I cannot fuck you with condoms again." Technically he can, but he doesn’t want to.

You smile widely. “Why is that?”

"Because I am completely fucked."

“You like it that much?”

"Like it?" He puffs, unamused, and starts to finally pound you the way he imagined a few weeks ago. Maybe even harder.

“Oh, fuck!” Yep, he’s right. You are fucked, too.

"You might need to fix me very often, you know?" He drops his hand from your hair just to properly grab your hips. You can barely keep your position like this, his thrusts are so deep.

“Fix you?”

"Yeah. Fix my cock." Oh, that’s what he means.

“We can fix each other then.”

"Ihm." He doesn't say much after this, too focused on kissing your back and keeping the pace at the same time. He's ready to come any minute.

“Harder, Bucky. Please!” You need to come. Really desperately.

"How much harder?" He thrusts a little harder. "More or like this?"

“As hard as you can.”

He doesn't disagree with you, but you know he's holding back even when he pushes harder. And harder. And harder.

"I'm gonna come," he manages to moan. "Fuck I'm gonna come inside you, gonna make a mess. Tell me you… t-tell me you want my come."

“I want your come, Bucky, please. p Please, come with me!” You are already shaking uncontrollably.

"Fuck." That's all you get from him before he's coming, his fingers digging so hard into your skin that you moan again, dizzy from your orgasm.

He keeps moving, making a mess, indeed. It’s already dripping out, you can feel it.

"I came so much." You hear him say suddenly through fogginess.

You smile, resting your head on the bed still, feeling unable to move.

"Not gonna say anything?"

“I died and went to heaven.” You murmur. The orgasm is still running through your veins, making you twitch here and there.

"I've been in heaven for a while."

You finally turn around and look at him. “It was so fucking good.”

"No words." He slowly gets out of you and you notice how happy he is, not taking his eyes off your pussy. "It's gonna start dripping… all over your thighs and sheets. What a nice mark." He even brings a finger to your entrance and pushes back some come.

“Do you have a breeding kink or something?” You smile while asking.

"A breeding kink?"

“Yeah, do you know what it is?”

"Something to do with my come inside you?" He teases. His confusion seems to fade away.

“Yeah, and getting me pregnant.”

He groans, closing his eyes.

“They do that pushing the come back inside thing most of the time.”

"I guess I have a breeding kink." He smiles, accepting it instantly, and finally closes the gap to kiss you. "You might not get rid of me now."

“I knew it!” You point at him with your finger. “I wasn’t gonna get rid of you anyways.”

"Wanna keep me as your boy toy?"

“You wanna be my boy toy?” Your whole face lights up.

"You look quite excited."

“I never had a boy toy before.”

"No?" He shakes his head. "Time to change that. And as your boy toy, I should always make sure you're having a good time." He surprises you by spreading your legs again.

“No, no, no, no. It’s my turn.”

Bucky shakes his head. "Need to get you clean, and then we can do whatever you want, alright?"

“You are really something else.” You sound amazed.

He smirks. "And you're stuck with me. You're all mine now."

You don't get to say anything anymore as you feel his tongue at your entrance. So you just grab his hair, closing your eyes, your exes long forgotten.

“And you are all mine.”

[lalunanymph]

𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 — g. satoru

one drunken night changes everything between you and satoru

cw. alcohol, virginity loss, reverse corruption, switch!gojo, modern au, unprotected sex, gojo is inexperienced, mild slut shaming but satoru gets his payback, gojo does not believe in toxic masculinity amen

Getting Gojo drunk is never a good idea.

You, for one, as his friend should know. 

Satoru’s ruddy cheeks, boisterous laughter and slurring words gave away his intoxication, and Geto was about to call a taxi for him when he stopped the outside party with a reveal no one had anticipated.

“Why’re you ruining my fun—hic—Suguru… I wanted to lose my virginity t'night.” 

Record screech. Ieiri glanced up from the cig she was smoking, and the whites of your wide eyes reflected the neon club sign. 

“Satoru,” Geto gasped, his phone left open on the Uber screen, mouth agape. “What did you say?” 

In answer to this sudden truth bomb, the white-haired man shrugged, kicking his feet up a curb and leaning back against the cool marble. The bench he was sprawled on was way too small to accommodate his 6’3 frame, and his legs, each about almost a mile long, were perched on either side of the seat. 

“I said what I said. Why—find it hard to believe, Sugu?” 

He looked good for someone already in an alarming state of intoxication, and you didn’t miss how Ieiri smirked at your flushing cheeks. Shooting her a glare, you quickly glanced at Suguru, relieved to find him still processing what Satoru said. 

“I thought… What about that girl back in third year?” 

Satoru waved off his question with a prissy flap of his hand. “Eh, that was old news. We never did anything vile.” 

“Imagine that,” Shoko snickered, stubbing out her cigarette with the tip of her boot. “The great Gojo Satoru—bitchless.” 

Geto couldn’t help the guffaw that burst from his chest, and you had to turn your face to the side to hide the hysterical giggles waiting to destroy your pouting friend’s ego. 

“Ieiri,” you chastised her, struggling to hold back your laughter, though with your lips twitching, it wasn’t hard to deduce that you were trying not to lose it. “Don’t make fun of him like that. Satoru’s just a late bloomer.”

“Yeah!” Gojo chimed in, shooting you a lopsided grin. “It’s not my fault girls only want me for my money.” 

You winced and Suguru rolled his eyes.

“If I recall, some of them did find you attractive, but you have ridiculous standards, Satoru.”

The white-haired fiend turned to you with a cheeky grin. “I do. That’s why Y/N-chan should take a leaf out of my book.”

“Oi—!” 

“The car is on the way,” Suguru chimed in, hastily coming in between you and Satoru to interrupt before things got out of hand. 

Your indignation was amusing to Gojo who chuckled heartily. “Ah, come on, Y/N. You’ve made some ridiculous choices in the past, but we still love you. I’m only just teasing.”

Before you could open your mouth to speak, the Uber pulled up, and with it, Satoru’s escape. “Oops. I gotta go, guys—”

“I’ll follow you.” Your sudden offer for help rubbed Gojo the wrong way, and he made a face, ego bruised with your assumption that he was too drunk to get himself safely back. 

“I can go home without your help. I’m fin—” He stood up… and almost fell onto his face. 

Geto was quick to catch him, and your yell of surprise induced Ieiri to lurch forward with her own arms outstretched in case both of you lost your grip on the taller man. 

It took three people to bundle Satoru in the backseat, and you shook off Geto’s worrying chimes when he asked if you needed his help. 

“He’ll sober up before we reach the penthouse. Don’t worry.” 

You slammed the car door closed on Geto and Shoko, both of them standing with shifting eyes and uncertainty in their hesitant gaits. 

“Could you please put the AC higher?” 

The cab driver nodded, and you sat Gojo closer to the middle, where he was getting a nice faceful of cold air. 

Thankfully, he didn’t grumble much on the way home, but the white-haired menace did threaten, once or twice, to puke in the car. The driver couldn’t have driven fast enough, and he even refused Gojo’s 5-star rating, a sign of his mild annoyance. 

Next, you had to haul a 6’3 baby into the elevator of his own penthouse. Satoru wasn’t an easy drunk—he whined, pouted and moaned about the lights being too bright or the room spinning or his feet aching. Honestly, you were glad to get him through the front door without anyone committing homicide. 

He was sobering up on the couch when you approached him with some hot tea, his misery drawn out and getting on your nerves when he nodded pitifully, taking the piping mug from you. 

Gojo’s penthouse suite was as much his as your home. Every weekend, you and Shoko would haunt either Satoru or Suguru’s homes, and you knew where every mug belonged and how he liked his plates to be arranged. 

Sitting down next to him, it was almost peaceful and quiet. Satoru had a certain assurance about him which put anyone at ease, and you were not exempted.

You liked his strong and reliable presence. Sure, he was an overgrown toddler in a young man’s body, but when push came to shove, Gojo would always show up for the people he loves. 

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier.”

You blinked, turning to find a pair of sincere azure eyes boring into yours. 

“What?” 

“About your mistakes. I know it was a dark time for you after your breakup with Sukuna. I didn’t mean to come off as ignorant and cruel.”

Your lips twitched at the sound of your ex-boyfriend’s name. “It’s fine. You’re a pretty shitty person when you’re drunk anyway.”

Gojo scoffed and set his mug down on the expensive marble coffee table. 

“Excuse me? I’m trying to be nice here.” 

“Hmm.” You tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “Did you mean what you said—that you’re actually a virgin?” 

Curiosity got the best of you, and it didn’t help that three of Gojo’s buttons were loosened, exposing a pale strip of his neck to your wandering eyes. 

“Yeah.” He said it with such nonchalance and straightforwardness, you thought he was pulling your leg again. 

“Please,” you forced a scoff, trying hard to ignore your heartbeat in between your legs. “Like anyone would believe that.”

“I’m serious,” he cried out, and to prove how genuine he was, Gojo siddled closer to you. “Cross my heart and I swear on my grandma’s dead body. I’ve never touched a girl before.” 

Well, Satoru did love his grandmother. You pouted, and before you could stop yourself, your primal, tipsy thoughts spilled out without any hesitation. 

“I could show you.” 

The silence after your question felt like an empty stretch of Tundra sea. 

Your stomach turned and you slapped a hand to your mouth. 

“Shit, Satoru, I’m sor—”

“I think I would like that.”

Gojo’s eyes were fixated on you in the half-light. The air suddenly became too thick, and you couldn’t breathe without inhaling the minty freshness of his breath. He was sitting too close to you. It was all too much, like a timebomb was about to go off at any moment. 

Before you could change your mind and leave him alone to his raging thoughts, Gojo caught you by the waist, tugging you onto his lap. 

Am I dreaming? 

You had envisioned kissing Gojo Satoru many, many times, but the reality was far sweeter.

His lips were plush and soft, tasting of the liquor he drank earlier and something impossibly sweet. 

“A-are you wearing lip balm?” your stuttered question made him pause. He laughed, a full bodied chuckle that shook his great shoulders. 

“Yeah. Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologise.” You mumbled, and in the closing darkness, your lips brushed on his with no caution. Satoru removed the space between you and him, closing on your mouth with another searing kiss that left you lightheaded and shaking.

The world went flat for a split second, and you opened your eyes to find him hovering over you. 

He picked your hand from your side, and pushed it towards the juncture of your thighs, where your core ached pathetically for him. 

“Show me,” his husky murmur sent a dark thrill straight to your clenching belly. “Show me how you touch yourself.” 

Gojo’s touch on your wrist was light, reminding you he was here and ready. Waiting for you to make the first move. 

“Huh?” your confusion was palpable, like the sheen of sweat beading on your brow. “H-hey—aren’t you supposed to be the virgin here?” 

His smile was part sardonic, part angelic. “Sweetheart, that’s why I’m asking you to show me. I promise I’ll impress you if you do.” 

You flashed him a look of annoyance, but ultimately, you lost to his charms. Satoru always had a way to soften you up and make you susceptible to his every whim. Licking your lips, you slowly pushed the hem of your skirt to the side, exposing the lacy black thong you wore for tonight.

Those ocean deep blue eyes were enraptured on your two fingers pushing aside your thong, and swiping them through your glossy seam. 

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, getting comfortable and resting his head on the plush sofa cushion to watch you touch yourself. “Keep going. Don’t stop until I tell you, too.”

You were going to murder him for speaking to you like this—as if you were an errant pet waiting on his reprimand. 

“Satoru—”

“Oh, hush,” he whispered with a pale, long finger pressed to your lips. “I’m enjoying the show. Stop ruining my first time, Y/N.” 

Your chagrined glare was replaced by a look of hesitation when Satoru used his large palm to cup your left breast. 

“I’ll just pull and twist it?” he asked, referring to your nipple hardening under his touch. 

“Y-yeah,” you swallowed hard. “Give it a little tug and roll it around your fingers.” 

For the first time since you met him, Satoru actually listened to you. He obediently twisted your turgid bud through the slinky fabric of your party top, watching intently as your body reacted under his touch. 

Since he was being good, you decided to treat him. 

Angling your hips closer to him, you rubbed shaky circles onto your clit in tandem with his slow tugs and pinches to your sensitive nipple. Gojo moved onto the other neglected one, repeating his motions until your hips were twitching from every deliberate roll. 

“You’re really sensitive, huh?” 

His whisper ignited the fire in your loins, and not even your touches could put it out. 

“Satoru, I think you can undress me.” 

Your command was met with barely any resistance when he nodded, pushing the straps of your top down to expose your naked breasts to his wandering eyes. 

“Fuck.” 

His reflexive groan caught you off guard. It had been awhile since any man was enthralled by the sight of your bare body. 

Most of those assholes couldn’t wait to jump to the main event without prepping you first. Their selfish insistence made you weary of who you let into your bed.

But, Satoru was the exception. 

His gentleness when he cupped your breasts, and the reverence you felt on your skin when he peppered kisses on your collarbone and shoulders was a far cry from those bums who only wanted to get their dicks wet.

A part of you was duly impressed by Satoru’s consideration—you never expected someone like Gojo to have it in him. 

Proving he worth once more, he planted open-mouth kisses down your neck, right to the swell of your heaving breasts. 

The sensation of his warm mouth wrapping around your nipples caused shivers to run down right into your very core. Satoru was worshipping the soft skin of your cleavage and sensitive buds like they were an altar he had to cleanse with every broad stroke of his tongue. 

Your mind spun in dizzying circles, the ones you drew on your clit growing more erratic by the second.

“Fuck,” you spat out, and couldn’t stop your hand from shooting out to sink in his soft, silvery white hair. “Satoru—”

“Stop.” 

His silky command pierced through the thick fog of your mind, catching you off guard.

“Huh?” He wrenched your hand away from the apex of your thighs, much to your chagrin. “What the fuck—” 

His cheeky grin dominated your blurry vision, and you swore smoke was pouring out of your ears. 

“I was about to cum, asshole!” 

“I know,” he sang. “But, you can’t cum just yet! You have to do it around my cock.” 

You swore, if you weren’t so turned on, you might’ve murdered Gojo. As it was, the idea of feeling him stretch your pussy out was far too enticing, and you were forced to swallow down your pride to admit your needs. 

“Are you gonna do it?” you hissed, feeling your cheeks heating up. “Or, are you going to make me wait?” 

This time, Gojo did not tease you. Judging from the bulge in the front of his jeans, his patience was wearing thin, too. 

Satoru tugged his cashmere crew neck off, and his Corduroy pants went next. If you weren’t so intoxicated with lust, you would’ve snickered at his outfit choice. 

However, there were no thoughts in your head beyond the anticipation of feeling Satoru’s cock slowly easing into you. The vivid yearning was driving you quietly insane, and your hips bucked upwards with such visceral desperation when he got in between your thighs that you were sure he was going to make fun of your neediness. 

He didn’t. 

Satoru’s glassy eyes and his parted mouth filled you with the understanding of his own inner turmoil—the shakiness of his exhale and his next question revealing his hesitation. 

“W-what do I do now?” 

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. 

“How do I fuck you right?” 

For all his bravado and pomp, Satoru was a nervous wreck on top. Your eyes softened, and you urged him up, turning the tides on him and settling him onto his back. 

Those wide, baby blue eyes never peeled off your figure, drinking in the sight of you removing your top and skirt completely with unabashed yearning. His cheeks were turning the prettiest shade of pink, the heat from them emanating down his pale chest like a slowly creeping infection he couldn’t exactly hide. 

Satoru swallowed hard again when you were left in nothing but your lacy thong. Moonlight speckled over the enticing curves of your bare body. He memorised every dip in the terrain of your silhouette until he was positive he could trace it onto a blank piece of paper based on memory alone. 

Your palms were folded onto his chest, using him as leverage when you slowly rolled your thong off your shapely thighs. 

He was glued onto the sight of your honeyed folds, trying hard not to drool when a little bit of your juices dribbled onto his thigh. 

The wide sofa was enough to accommodate both your bodies, and you held onto the velvet arm with one hand, the other reaching to circle his stiff cock. Gojo groaned, lustfully and without shame when you started to stroke him. 

Sure, he had used his own hand and sometimes a sock to get himself off, but nothing could compare to the sensation of a pretty thing who knew what she was doing. 

You glanced at him through half-mast eyes, the sinful sight sending a bolt of lightning right down his spine. Satoru’s tongue tied of its own accord when you let go of his length, though what you did next made every thought he had fly out the window of his whited out mind.

He watched, hungry and blown away, when you sank your hips down on his length, taking him with a small gasp and your head thrown back. 

You felt the burn in your thighs when you set a pace that had the huge couch rocking. Satoru clasped his hands onto your hips, an involuntary low moan leaving his swollen, peachy lips. You were a vision above him—hair falling in your face, and lower lip caught between your teeth. There was a look in your eyes that he was starting to know all too well, like you wanted to devour him piece by piece till only a shred of his sanity remained.

The sight of him bucking his hips to rut up into you was burned into your retinas. 

Satoru was a heavenly visual below you. His white hair was in a disarray, those beautiful blue eyes drowsy with lust. His mouth was parted in an ‘O’, the apples of his cheeks dusted with pink. 

“‘Toru,” you whispered. “C-can feel you so deep.” 

Those salacious words and your sweet nickname broke something in Gojo. 

One second you were sensually undulating your hips above him, and the next, you were on your hands and knees, stretched to your full capacity around his throbbing cock. 

“So beautiful.” 

Before he could give you a moment to steel yourself, Satoru had set a brutal pace that had you biting down on a cushion to muffle your scream. 

Holy shit. He’s good. 

Your slurry mind could barely keep up with this new development. The lanky, annoying man you had called your friend for years was fucking up into you like he was about to break you back. 

The fact that your breathing was growing heavier and you could barely see through your blurry vision kept you locked in a cycle of perpetual surprise and intense pleasure. Satoru was rocking your entire world like he was meant to ruin it, and you were the helpless victim to his infuriating expertise.

Everything Satoru did, he did to excel. And fucking you was no exception. 

He swivelled his hips, smacked your ass, and bent over to leave wet open mouthed kisses on your shoulders and the back of your neck. He tugged and twisted your nipples, played with your clit till you choked back on a scream. Satoru did it over and over again until you couldn’t hold back the ball of tension from exploding.

It rained over you with the effects of a full disaster, shattering your entire world when you finally came for Gojo Satoru. 

His palm was firmly slapped onto your mouth to quieten your sniffles and whines. Gojo let you pulse around his cock pathetically, before his grating chuckle bulldozed past your foggy mind.

“That’s one. I haven’t come yet.”

He flipped you onto your back, perching one thigh on the back of the sofa so he could lean forward and have full access to your flushed pussy. 

Satoru then spent a full fifteen minutes eating you out; sucking on your clit, fucking your quivering hole with his tongue, and running the flat of that infuriating pink muscle back and forth from back to hole until your toes curled in his periphery.

“Ngh—ah! ‘Toru!” 

Clutching his hair in your death grip, Satoru gave you full permission to ride his face with the patience of a saint.

But, even saints were humans and they could be tainted with darker, baser thoughts.

Satoru would never call himself a good man, not when he had you bent against the sofa arm as he languidly fucked you. You hated to admit how much he knew your body—better than you gave him credit for—when he played with your clit again, determined to bring you to your third ruin. 

Your hips were beginning to stutter, and your sweet pussy was clenching down on him like a loving embrace. Satoru buried his face into your hair, expelling a guttural groan.

“Fuck, angel. So good. So good, sweetheart.”

The endearment in his voice and those terms poised you right at the edge, and you were so close to throwing yourself over with barely a beat of hesitation. 

“Say it,” Gojo grunted, voice thick and deep with arousal. “Tell the world who’s fucking you so good.”

If someone had told you a year ago that you would be creaming around Gojo’s cock for the third time in a night, you would’ve told them to shove it and to stop feeding your delusions. 

But, this was happening—Gojo was really using you like a fleshlight he was fond of. When he leaned forward to press a kiss to your cheek, you couldn’t help the gritted sniffle that slipped past your clenched teeth.

“You,” your broken admission put a smile of satisfaction on his face. 

The inexperienced has now become the master. 

“Yeah? Doesn’t sound convincing, sweetheart.”

His lips on the shell of your ear and puffs of hot breath hitting that sensitive strip of skin was enough to make you clench down on him. 

“Satoru…”

“Yeah, that’s my name, baby. Now, shout it for everyone to hear.”

“Satoru,” you were sobbing now, full bodied shakes which echoed the pleasure tearing your world apart. “Satoru!” 

“Louder, baby.”

Stars exploded behind your scrunched lids when he gripped your throat, using it to pull you back towards his chest, cock digging deeper into your soft insides to expose your secrets for the world to see. 

“Satoru! Oh, god—Satoru! Satoru! Sa—”

You choked off when the world suddenly went white.

As if a bomb had detonated, your insides shook, the world going still for a single second. Lights, sounds, smell and touch were suspended in motion, like you were looking at a scene from outside your body.

Then, the movie resumed, fast forwarding and slamming into you with the force of a singular, staggering punch. 

Everything was too bright, too loud, and your heartbeat was erratically going off in your chest, the blood singing in your ears. 

Satoru caught you as you slumped into his arms, and he used what little remained of his self-control to fuck up into you, hard enough for his balls to tighten and his own inner world to shatter into fragments.

His teeth sank into your shoulder, the bite of pain enough to draw out your bittersweet climax. 

“Satoru!” 

The tension was too much, and it hurt to even cum. Your core was cramping up, and your pussy was throbbing like it was about to fall off. 

But, you didn’t care. All you wanted was Satoru and his entirety. 

You would always allow him to destroy your world without a second thought; knowing he was going to stay behind to fix the pieces. 

Gojo did not disappoint you when he held you close to his chest, the last spurt of warmth dripping onto your bare thighs. 

“Fuck,” he breathed. 

You both sank into the plush surface, stained with sweat, cum and disbelief. 

Neither of you could break the silence, and you were reluctant to be the first. If you did, there was no telling if Satoru would up and leave.

Eventually, he made the first move.

Gojo nuzzled your hair, exhaling what sounded like a gust of relief.

“Well, that sure exceeded my expectations.”

The angst of what you both had done aside, Satoru and you were still good friends and you couldn’t throw a friendship away because he had rocked your entire world. 

In fact, you wondered if he would be interested in taking it up a notch. 

You weren’t above admitting that Satoru was the best fuck of your life and a part of you would do anything to make sure he would be your last. 

“Satoru—”

“We’ll talk about everything tomorrow,” he promised, pressing a reassuring kiss to your jaw. “You’ve drained my balls and emotions for one night, baby. Go to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” 

You nodded, believing him without a shade of doubt. 

Satoru would give it his word of honour like how did when he said he would impress you. 

Closing your eyes, you drifted off to sleep, but not before you felt the ghost of his laugh stir the loose strands of hair around your neck. 

"Not bad, Gojo," he muttered under his breath, quietly commending himself with a self-assured grin, seemingly unaware that you could hear him. "Not bad at all."

a/n: he's so stinky i would ride him till he passes out just to get him to shut up.

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

[girlgenius1111]

flipped

ingrid x mapi x reader smut 18+ mapi + r turn the tables on ingrid after a stressful week.

-------

If there was one thing that practically everyone knew about your relationship, it was that Ingrid had you and Mapi under her thumb. One word from her, and the two of you would abandon whatever ridiculous idea you were plotting, smile guiltily at her, and do as she said. It was assumed that this was how things went in… other aspects of your relationship. 

That assumption would be correct. 

You and Mapi did what Ingrid wanted. You fucked when she said you could. You came only when she allowed it. You took any punishment she decided on, though not without complaint. And while Mapi definitely had some power over you too, you were the true, definitive sub in the relationship. Most of the time spent with your girlfriends in a sexual way was either Mapi and Ingrid taking you to pieces together, or Ingrid taking you and Mapi to pieces herself. 

What never occurred, though, was Ingrid allowing herself to submit to either of you. She liked to be in control; in her life, she so often felt such little control, that when she had the opportunity for it, she took it immediately. And normally, this was fine. Everyone’s needs were met, everyone got exactly what they wanted. For Ingrid, that was being in charge. For Mapi that was toeing the line between bossing you around, and listening to Ingrid. For you, that was doing whatever the 2 other women told you too. 

Recently, though, you and Mapi got the feeling that although she would never admit it, Ingrid needed something different from you both. She was stressed, beyond belief. You were out with a concussion, which you were almost fully healed from, though the club was being cautious with you. Mapi was recovering well from knee surgery, already walking and back to normal, non football activities. Yet Ingrid continued to hover and do everything for the both of you like she’d done when you both first got hurt. It seemed like she was struggling with not being able to control your injuries, not being able to fix it and make it all better. 

She was under so much pressure at work, putting so much pressure on herself at home, that it really was only a matter of time before she snapped. And, of course, this snap came in the form of a screaming match between her and Mapi. Mapi was generally grouchier because she couldn’t play, and she’d get into moods sometimes where it was just better to leave her alone, and let her work through it. She’d always come to the two of you later, apologize for her behavior, and allow you both to make her feel better. Ingrid knew this, but she wasn’t having the best day either, the team having an awful practice after a less than satisfactory win over the weekend. She was tired, and annoyed, and had absolutely no patience for Mapi’s attitude. This all very quickly dissolved into an argument. You all didn’t fight often. Mapi was a short tempered person, though, and recently, Ingrid was too, increasingly so. 

You’d arrived home after both girls, having gotten lunch after training with some of your teammates. It was… eerily quiet when you walked into the house. No music playing, no show playing on the TV. You didn’t know where Ingrid was, but you could see Mapi’s head peeking over the edge of the lounge chair in the backyard. You headed that way, rather cautiously, confused as to what had caused such tension in the house while you were gone. 

Mapi was still pissed, you could tell that the second you caught a look at her face. She was holding Bagheera on her lap like a Bond villain, and scowling at the sky above her. 

“Hey.” You said quietly, sitting in the chair next to hers.

“Hi.” She grunted. 

“What happened?” You asked. 

“Ask your girlfriend.” 

“I just did.” You reminded her, smiling a bit. Mapi shot you a glare, clearly not appreciating your attempt at humor. “What’s wrong?” you asked, a bit kinder this time. 

“Ingrid is in a mood.” She complained. And so is María, you thought to yourself, knowing better than to say it out loud. You reached out, taking her hand in yours, glad when you saw her body visibly relax at the contact. 

“What did you fight about?” 

“I do not even remember. I came home and said I wanted to be alone and she just started shouting at me and I yelled back and then we both stormed off.” Mapi admitted. 

“Maybe Ingrid didn’t want to be alone.” You suggested. 

“Well, I did.” Mapi said shortly. You rolled your eyes. 

“María, I love you very much, but sometimes I think you forget that Ingrid is just as emotional as you are, she just does a better job hiding it. She was probably upset, or stressed, and wanted you, and you probably blew her off because you were focused on being grumpy.”

“I am not grumpy,” Mapi began. You silenced her with a single raised eyebrow. Mapi groaned. “Fine, I will go apologize.” 

“No, not yet. I’ll go talk to her. You can come in in 10 minutes, and then apologize.” You declared, ignoring Mapi’s frustrated huff in favor of kissing her forehead and walking directly back inside. 

You found your other girlfriend in the bedroom. Well, you didn’t really find her. You found an Ingrid sized shape under the covers, and carefully crawled onto the bed next to it.

“Ingrid,” you called softly, only hearing a soft sniffle in response. This was your first clue that something was really wrong, more than just the fight. “Let me see you.” You insisted, pulling the covers off your girlfriend’s head. She was curled up into a miserable little ball, cheeks tearstained, a frown set on her lips. 

“Hi.” She said stiffly. 

“Do you want a hug?” You asked, opening your arms when Ingrid nodded, and practically threw herself at you. Her larger body landed on top of yours, and she settled her face against your shoulder. “Hey pretty girl.” You murmured, pushing some hair out of her face. 

“Did you talk to María?” She asked quietly. 

“Yes.” 

“Is she upset with me?” Ingrid wondered. She sounded so unlike herself, so insecure and vulnerable. 

“A bit, before. I talked to her though. She isn’t mad anymore.” 

“She should be mad. I was horrible.” Ingrid sighed. 

“I think we’re both just worried about you, baby.” You told her, still holding tight even when she tried to pull back a bit. 

“I’m fine.” Ingrid replied in a monotone. 

“I don’t believe that.” 

“I do not either.” María spoke from the doorway. Ingrid stiffened against you, but Mapi was across the room in a flash, crawling onto the bed next to you both. “Ingrid,” she sighed, noticing when the brunette started to cry again. 

“I’m sorry, María,” Ingrid sobbed, shifting off of you to push her face into Mapi’s sweatshirt. 

“Hey, shh. Estás bien amor, todo está bien.” Mapi whispered, pulling both you and Ingrid in as close as you could get. “I am not mad, cariño. I am sorry I was so grouchy earlier, I should have made sure you were okay.”

“I’m just so stressed,” Ingrid said, so quietly it was clear she was reluctant to say anything at all. “I don’t remember what it’s like not to be stressed.” 

You and Mapi exchanged a look, wondering if this was the right time to set your plan into action. The plan that you’d been discussing for days, with no clear way to get it started. This seemed like the right time. Ingrid needed this, even if she would never ask for it. Never know that she needed to ask for it. You and Mapi knew just how well it could work, though. 

“You know what helps me when I’m stressed?” You asked quietly, wiping a few tears off Ingrid’s cheeks when she turned to look at you. 

She cracked a faint smile. “I do. I don’t know that making you come until you can’t think would help me, though.” 

She was joking, but looking between you and Mapi, she realized she was closer to what you were insinuating than she thought. 

“No, but letting us help you might.” Mapi smiled. 

Ingrid’s face was blank, but there was a flicker of interest behind her eyes.

“You both want to… me? You want to…” She trailed off. 

“Fuck you? Yes, we do.” Mapi said easily. 

“Very much.” You echoed. 

Ingrid looked baffled, completely shocked. Neither of you had ever expressed interest in doing this before, until now. And it wasn’t that she didn’t want it, not really. It was just… scary. But she trusted you guys, and it was this that had her pulling you both a bit closer. 

“Only if you want us to, Ingrid. If you don’t, we can just talk, just relax. Whatever you need.” 

“I want it.” Ingrid said, though it was clear in her tone that she hadn’t given in, not completely. She still held both of you like she was in control, like she was in charge. 

“Let me take care of you, bebita,” Mapi whispered, nuzzling her face into Ingrid’s neck and beginning to kiss at her skin. “Let us take care of you.” 

Ingrid still looked unsure, though she tilted her neck slightly to allow Mapi easier access. Her eyes were fixed on you, vulnerable and desperate, when she responded.  “I don’t know how to not…” she trailed off. What she meant was clear. She didn’t know how to not be in control.

“We’ll show you.” You promised. “We’re very good at it.” 

“You are. I can show you,” she began, but you and Mapi both shook your heads simultaneously. 

“No. You won’t show us anything. We’ll take care of you.” Mapi corrected. 

It was the first real demand that either of you had made, and Ingrid reacted on instinct, grabbing Mapi’s neck in a way she normally loved, before she seemed to remember herself, and froze. 

“Amor.” Mapi said, her eyes locked on Ingrids. You knew she was talking to you, though, and you knew exactly what she wanted. In the time it took you to get off the bed, grab the restraints from the drawer, and return to the bed, Mapi had Ingrid on her back, one of the defender’s hands holding the Norwegians wrists tightly above her head. 

“Really, María, you are going to tie me up?” Ingrid asked sarcastically, clearly thinking that her perfect girl didn’t have it in her. Her body radiated defiance, and you knew then that this would be more difficult than you’d been anticipating. While Ingrid wanted to let go, had agreed to it, getting her to actually go against her instincts was always going to be difficult. 

Mapi was quick to correct this defiance, though, her hand gripping Ingrid’s jaw as you began to tie the woman’s hands to the bedposts. “I will do what I want, and you will listen.” 

Ingrid still didn’t look like she was taking her girlfriend very seriously, and she was shocked at the way Mapi suddenly yanked you closer. The Spaniard grabbed you by the back of the neck, pulling you towards her. You were both leaning over Ingrid’s extended legs, a fact that she was viscerally aware of. 

When Mapi pressed her lips to yours, you could tell she wasn’t completely over her frustration from earlier, and that she was only putting it aside for the sake of the woman underneath you. You knew, too, that she would also benefit from taking control, and you let her completely take over the kiss. She tilted your head back to get a better angle, absolutely ravishing your lips, kissing them, biting at them, pushing her tongue into your mouth, until you were breathless just from her ministrations against you. 

“Mapi, I want her,” Ingrid said lowly, both of you clearly able to feel her burning gaze. You pulled away slightly, as if to move down to the Norwegian, but Mapi shook her head, pulling you back in until her words were whispered against your mouth.

“Eres mía. No de ella.” Mapi told you. 

“Yours,” you agreed easily, returning Mapi’s soft grin

“María,” Ingrid complained, now fighting the restraints on her hand, clearly very unhappy with being ignored. 

“Tan impaciente.” Mapi rolled her eyes, but leaned back, pushing you down towards the apex of Ingrid’s thighs. “Come.” 

Eagerly, you pulled Ingrid’s shorts and underwear down, tossing them without regard off the bed, before you buried your face in between her legs. 

“Yes, there,” Ingrid sighed, relaxing slightly back into the bed as you licked at her. You knew what Ingrid liked, and you knew what Mapi wanted from you. To build her up fast, and pull away, just as fast. You supposed the Spaniard was somewhere near the bed, getting the strap on, but you were much too focused on the task at hand to think about anything else other than the taste of Ingrid on your tongue, and the way her wet heat dripped for you. 

You focused on her clit, gently taking it into your mouth and suckling, before returning to broad strokes over her entrance. You added two fingers, her walls stretching easily to accommodate. It was only when she tensed under you that you opened your eyes, glancing upwards to see Mapi kneeled by the Norwegian’s head. 

“Open bebita,” Mapi told her. Ingrid looked frustrated to say the least, but allowed Mapi to press the strap into her open mouth. “Que buena,” 

The praise evidently did something to Ingrid, because as you returned to focus on her core, you could hear the wet smacks and light gags as she took Mapi’s length into her mouth. 

“So pretty with my cock in your mouth, sí?” 

Mapi’s words only turned Ingrid on more, and she only grew wetter as you continued to work her up. You focused your mouth up to her clit, flicking your tongue over it rapidly, fucking your fingers into her hard, using your free hand to hold Ingrid’s hips down against the mattress. 

“Fuck, I’m close,” she mumbled, releasing Mapi’s cock with a loud intake of air. And although you were slightly shocked by how fast this had happened, Mapi didn’t seem to be. The Spaniard seemed to know exactly what she needed to do to get Ingrid where she wanted her. 

Ingrid let out a groan from deep in her throat, and you heard Mapi shush her lightly. You could visualize what the Norwegian looked like, saliva smeared across her face, Mapi’s hand laced through her hair, and it only encouraged you. 

You didn’t forget what you and Mapi had discussed, though, nor did the consequences of disobeying slip your mind. So, as Ingrid’s hips jerked against you, and you could feel her muscles begin to tighten, you pulled away, grinning down at her. 

“No no no NO, elskling come back here. Now!” Ingrid whined, her eyes flying open as she glared up at you, a warning clearly evident on her face. And even though it went against all of your instincts, you looked away from her, towards Mapi, a shy smile on your face. She met your look with a grin, before refocusing her attention back on Ingrid. 

“Do not complain, cariño, we are just getting started.” She warned quietly, before she guided herself back towards the Norwegian’s mouth. Ingrid wisely chose to remain silent, looking up at her girlfriend with lust in her eyes as Mapi began to fuck into her mouth. 

The Spaniard pushed in far, shushing Ingrid quietly when she whined in complaint and squirmed slightly. “Just take it, bebita, be good for me.” 

At this, Ingrid began to bob her head back and forth as well as she could, a new look in her eyes as she let Mapi fuck her face. You were rather worked up from watching up until this point, and you took your opportunity when Mapi threw her head back, grunting softly as Ingrid’s throat put pressure on the strap, and by extension, on her own center. 

What little Ingrid had appeared to submit up until this point disappeared instantly when you pushed her leg to bend slightly and straddled her thigh. Ingrid loved nothing more than to watch you get yourself off on her, especially when she could tell you when to stop and wait, and when to make yourself come. This wasn’t one of those times, though, as she was quickly reminded when Mapi pulled her attention away from you and the slow grind of your hips against her leg. 

“Is she distracting you? Do you want to watch?” Mapi asked, feigning softness, though Ingrid didn’t seem to pick up on that. 

“Yes, want to watch her,” Ingrid replied breathlessly, her jaw aching slightly from the position it had been in. 

“You heard her, mi niña. Give our girl a show.” Mapi slid down to lay next to Ingrid, beginning to work marks into her neck. Ingrid was almost unaware, her attention completely captivated by you on top of her, steadily working yourself towards an orgasm. Her legs were muscular, and you’d found the perfect spot to rut again, the friction causing you to speed up, and causing slightly breathless gasps to leave your mouth.

It was an unusual sight for the brunette, though, to see you so lost in your own pleasure, taking what you needed without looking to Ingrid for some direction. It wasn’t entirely welcome, and your girlfriend felt the need for the control rushing back into her body. She tensed under you, and under Mapi, pulling at the restraints her hands were in. 

You were getting closer and closer, rocking yourself back and forth against Ingrid’s thigh, showing no signs of stopping. Mapi didn’t seem to be interested in stopping you either, her attention completely focused on Ingrid’s neck. The Norwegian tugged at her restraints once more, before she spoke up. 

“Elskling, not yet” she instructed, frowning when you completely ignored her. She wanted you on her mouth, or riding her fingers. She wanted to directly make you come, when she wanted you to, and not a second sooner. She needed the control, she thought, ached for it. 

It was submission that she really needed, though, you and Mapi were both sure. Even more sure now, having seen how her body relaxed at Mapi’s possessive and bossy words, and tensed when she tried to regain control. 

“Shit, María, can I?” You asked, directing the question towards the Spaniard. 

“No.” Ingrid replied, at the same time as Mapi gave a resounding ‘yes.’

 “Relax, mi amor. Let her make a mess on you.” Mapi whispered, her words a warm breath on Ingrid’s neck. “Do you feel how wet she is? I can see it from here.” 

“Fuck, Ingrid, you feel so good,” you cried, your head dropping forward until your hair hid your face, your hands bracing yourself on Ingrid’s muscular abdomen.  

“She is going to come on your leg, Ingrid, and you are going to let her.” 

“I want to taste her,” Ingrid whined, using a tone of voice you were sure you’d never heard from her before. 

“No.” Mapi told her simply, pulling away from Ingrid to watch as you fell over the edge, your body spasming against Ingrid, low whines falling from your lips. 

And as you collapsed onto Ingrid, so did something in the Norwegian. When she looked at your other girlfriend, it was with a completely new expression on her face. 

“María, please fuck me,” Ingrid whispered, “I’m dripping for you, baby, please. I need your cock,” 

Mapi bit back a smile at Ingrid’s filthy words, knowing she had the younger woman just where she wanted her. For the moment, though, she ignored Ingrid’s begging, tilting your head from where it was resting against Ingrid’s chest so the Spaniard could meet your eyes. 

“You did so well, mi niña,” Mapi cooed, rubbing her thumb softly over your cheek bone. You smiled lazily up at her, feeling Ingrid squirm unhappily under you. 

“María,”

“Shh, cariño, be patient.” Mapi replied condescendingly, her eyes not flicking up to Ingrid’s. “Do you want a reward, mi amor?” 

“Sí, por favor,” you replied almost breathlessly, looking up at María as if she was the only other person on earth. Ingrid felt something she wasn’t used to feeling. Jealousy. She wanted both of your guys’ attention on her, craved it deep within her. It was so unfamiliar, it was almost uncomfortable, and she let out a quiet whine almost accidentally, her body jerking up into yours. 

“Ingrid,” Mapi scolded lightly, finally turning her gaze on the midfielder. “You have to be patient.” She was enjoying this, the almost alternate universe that she found herself in. Ingrid begging her was something that never happened, and Mapi relished it. 

She reached over to the bedside table, grabbing the small vibrator she’d set out a few minutes prior. With both of you watching, she slipped it inside of herself, holding the remote in her hand as she pushed the harness back in place. 

“I will give you my cock. If you make our girl come before I do, then it can be your turn to come, vale?” Mapi rasped, lips lifting into a slight smile at the determined glint that lit up Ingrid’s eyes. 

Nothing else needed to be said, enough talking having been done for the moment. You maneuvered yourself up Ingrid’s body, turning around so you were facing Mapi, and hovering over Ingrid’s mouth. She strained her neck up, trying to reach your soaking pussy, while you stayed just out of reach. 

It was only when you saw Mapi click the vibrator on, and saw Ingrid’s eyes flutter shut as the Spaniard pressed into her, that you lowered yourself down. 

Ingrid had very clearly taken Mapi’s challenge to heart, because even as she gasped and groaned against you, she was clearly working hard to work you up fast. And it was working. It was just that Mapi remained pretty much untouched up until this point, and her sensitivity exceeded yours. 

The motion of fucking one of you always got her, too. The grind of her hips, watching the strap disappear into Ingrid’s cunt, the feeling of the harness pressing against her just right. It was all so perfect. 

So while Ingrid fucked her tongue into your clenching pussy, her nose brushing against your clit, Mapi fucked Ingrid languidly, slowly, casually, all the while the vibrator inside of her was pushing her closer and closer. It wasn’t enough to get Ingrid very close, but you and Mapi were right on the edge. 

Ingrid fucked her tongue into you frantically, able to tell from the way you grinded down on her face that you were close. You were fighting it, though, your eyes on Mapi, willing yourself to let her beat you, like you’d discussed. 

It was hard, made harder by the sight of Mapi with her head thrown back, small groans leaving her mouth, one of her hands toying with her nipple. You held strong, though, holding back until you were almost in tears, until moan after moan tumbled from behind your lips. 

Ingrid was furious under you, feeling your muscles clench around her, knowing exactly what you were attempting to do. 

Mapi grew more vocal, though, and you reached out, squeezing tightly to her hand as the Spaniard came. 

“Sí, sí amor,” Mapi cried, and with that, you let yourself go, a tidal wave of pleasure washing over you. It wasn’t a particularly strong orgasm for Mapi, which was lucky, because she was able to catch you as you pitched forward into her arms, shying away from Ingrid’s punishing and overstimulating touch. 

“Ingrid, your mouth, jesus,” you whined, feeling Mapi’s chest shake under you with silent laughter. 

“Neither of you are playing fair.” You heard Ingrid complain. Mapi eased you down onto the bed next to the Norwegian, and you forced your eyes open to take in the sight of the woman next to you. 

Ingrid’s face was flushed, covered in your wetness, her dark eyes glaring up at Mapi, who only smiled down at her, situating herself in between the Norwegian’s legs. She released Ingrid’s hands from the restraints, but pressed them into the pillow above the brunette’s head, making it clear what she wanted.

“Neither of us agreed to play fair, mi amor.” 

Without further warning, Mapi pressed herself deep inside of Ingrid, bottoming out in one smooth stroke. 

“Fucking-María,” Ingrid cried, her eyes slamming shut at the sudden influx of pleasure. 

“Do I feel good, niña bonita?” Mapi asked, her hips beginning an unforgiving pace as she fucked into Ingrid.

“Yes, so good,” Ingrid gasped. Her hand blindly reached for yours, and you grabbed it easily, very happy to watch as Mapi took her to pieces next to you. 

“Do you want to come?” Mapi asked breathlessly, although the answer was rather obvious. Her eyes were fixed on Ingrid under her, not wanting to miss a single second of the normally so strong willed woman pleading for her. 

“Yes, Mapi, you know I do.” Ingrid replied, somehow managing to sound annoyed and incredibly turned on at the same time. 

“Beg.” Mapi instructed, her hand coming to rest over Ingrid’s throat, her fingers pressing in lightly, just enough that Ingrid felt it, and just enough that her head fell back, and her body quivered under the Spaniard’s. She readjusted her legs, giving her a better position, and began to jackhammer into Ingrid, knowing precisely where to press her cock. 

Ingrid forced her eyes open, staring up at her girlfriend, as if trying to tell if she was being serious. She could hardly think, not with the way Mapi was fucking her. And when you began to brush your fingers through her hair, cooing sweet words into her ear, she knew she was done for. 

“I can’t take any more, María, please, I need you, please let me come, I’ll do anything,” Ingrid whined, her words broken up by moans and stuttering breaths. 

“Good girl,” Mapi promised, making sure the words were spoken in English, so they had the full effect. With that, Ingrid came, hard. Harder than you’d potentially ever seen her come, until her body was writhing against the mattress, her mouth open in a silent cry. 

Mapi worked her through it, as you pressed kiss after kiss to the side of Ingrid’s face, pulling her easily into you when Mapi finally pulled out. 

Ingrid’s body shook against you, quiet whimpers leaving her mouth as she finally got the release she didn’t know she needed. As she finally let go of all the stress she’d been hanging on to. 

Rather hastily, Mapi tore the strap off of herself, the vibrator removed carelessly, both items tossed off the side of the bed. The Spaniard pressed her bare body up against Ingrid’s back, so that the taller woman was squished comfortably in between the both of you. 

Ingrid seemed to be at a loss for words, only able to hold on tight to you, and tangle one of her trembling legs with Mapi’s. 

“You were so good for me, amor,” Mapi whispered, “so pretty for us.” 

Ingrid let out a deep breath, relaxing even more into your body. You kissed the side of her head easily, tangling your finger’s with Mapi’s where they rested over Ingrid’s body. 

“Thank you,” Ingrid mumbled, her face still hidden away in the crook of your neck. 

“Do you feel better?” You asked, running your fingers through her hair. 

“Better. So good.” Ingrid sighed, still clearly a little fucked out. 

Mapi chuckled behind her. “Good, mi amor. Rest now, okay? We can talk later.” 

And with the promise of a conversation, as was necessary in any healthy relationship, Ingrid let herself drift away for a bit, her body completely devoid of stress for the first time in weeks. 

-----

i admittedly did not proofread this

thinking a second part [who is shocked! who!!!!] where the trio have a conversation about taking care of ingrid, and mapi and r spoil their girl. fluff and a little bit of angst vibes. it that appealing? or should i leave it here? can't decide <3

[princessbrunette]

how does boxer!rafe act when reader is actually pregnant… like are we still fucking hard or are we softer. he seems like the softest rafe?? am i wrong in my assumptions ??? i cant get enough of your interpretation literally my favorite au to ever exist

♡꒰ა 🐻‍❄️ ໒꒱♡

moreso protective. you step a foot outside and he’s rushing over to you, huge body looming over yours to place a territorial hand on your swollen stomach with a frown. “wh— what are you — why are you outside?”

“rafe i can’t just stay in the house all day. i need like… nutrients from the sun and stuff!” you giggle, placing a reassuring hand over his on your bump. he presses his lips together disapprovingly as he huffs out his nose. if he could bring the sun to your bedroom just so you didn’t have to leave the house he would.

your hormones are all out of whack, so when you’re not crying over small inconveniences — you’re nearly in tears over just how horny you are. he just wants to watch the game, kicking back and his feet up on the couch in sweatpants and a bottle of beer and you’re appearing all glassy eyed and whiny, practically bursting out that dainty little nightdress, swollen and plump cunt grinding on him as you beg him to help you.

“why do you have to put me in this position, baby? you know how i fuck, okay? m’not — i am not going to hurt you.” he stresses, but his word choices are only turning you on more, pupils swallowing your eye as you stare at him, fuck drunk.

“i just need it, rafe— why’d you think i got pregnant in the first place? just get so wet for you.” you whine, and he sighs, stroking the back of your head reassuringly when you burrow your face into him— getting yourself off in his lap as he grows hard beneath you.

“shit…” he whispers, guiding your hips. “well i told you i’d look after you right? s’my job so— so i can’t just not do that right? gotta fuck my girl when she needs it.” he speaks out loud as if he needs to justify it to himself before doing it, slotting a hand between you to cup your cunt, humming at the way you drag your soaked slit over his palm. “jesus, you weren’t kidding about getting wet, kid.”

he fucks you as responsibly as he can. not the usual deep, hard fucking with you folded up like a pretzel that got you in this predicament to begin with — he’s smart with it, letting you ride him while he squeezes at your tender and sore tits, large muscled body laid out for you to eagerly get yourself off, using him like a dildo until you’re worked to tears.

sometimes you require him to do the work, make it feel like you’re getting fucked and not fucking yourself, to scratch the itch. he does this by putting you on all fours, large hands lifting your tummy to take the weight off you from a while as he grinds his cock in and out of you, punching all the spots that need be.

“shit baby. can creampie this little cunt without having to worry. that shit makes you so happy, huh?”

♡꒰ა 🐻‍❄️ ໒꒱♡

[heartiis]

the big apple ꩜ .ᐟ pt.5

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4

pairing - ellie x reader

synopsis - you've just moved to nyc and ellie's your new neighbor. she hates you though and you don't know why :((

cw - mean ellie, toxic! ellie, side gig dealer ellie, weed, tattoo artist ellie, texts between reader and ellie, angst, smut

a/n - last part!! bro last part had a bunch of letters which were bigger and I kept fixing it then coming back to see some of them got big again?? it was like playing whac-a-mole I swear. also I just want to say thank you to everyone who read and interacted, it was so nice to share my writing with people who enjoyed it<33

-

Sitting before you was a cappuccino cup with a perfectly formed latte art leaf. You stared at it, slowly inhaling and exhaling the warm, sweet smell. It soothed you, but you could still feel a blade made of pure anxiety stabbing your guts. What were you supposed to do with the cup again?

“Hey!”

You turned your head to see your co-worker holding three iced coffees in his hands, gesturing his head to the pickup counter where a growing crowd of customers waited. It was the afternoon, one of the busiest times for coffee shops.

“Shit,” you muttered, and quickly brought over the cup to the counter and called out the customer’s name.

Your head this week had been either entirely filled with Ellie, that moment in your bedroom with the thumping and moaning, or absolutely nothing but a strong sense of dread you were too fuzzy to understand. And you hated it. You hated how pathetic it made you feel, to have someone who didn’t give a fuck about you occupying your mind 24/7, turning your new life into a mess after only having been in it for a few weeks.

You knew who Ellie Williams was from the start. Dina, one of her best friends, had told you. You knew she didn’t date, didn’t get attached or form romantic connections. It wasn’t like you’d been itching to make things official while you were still talking. You were still getting to know each other. You understood the two of you were not exclusive, and you yourself had not thought of giving a name to your relationship yet.

But you also understood yourself. You knew you’d caught feelings for Ellie because that was how you operated, and because it was Ellie, perfect and strong and raw, with her stupid green eyes and her freckles. The exact type of person you’d imagined you’d fall for. It was achingly, painfully obvious to you where you’d gone wrong. You had let the tiniest seed of hope grow in your heart.

From the way Dina and Jesse had talked about the other girls Ellie involved herself with, it had seemed like she didn’t text them as often as she did you. It hadn’t seemed like she would constantly invite them over, or invite herself over to theirs, or talk until late at night, or give them free weed just so she could get high with them.

But these were all assumptions. Dina hadn’t spoken about the topic since that night, and you hadn’t asked. You two did talk about what had happened the night of the smoke sesh, and about the constant texting and hanging out and occasional sex which had followed, but she never gave you any reason to think this meant more to Ellie than any of her other flings.

The seed in your heart felt like a shard of glass.

-

The walk home was cold and bitter. Your manager had sent you home early because you lacked so much focus she’d thought you were sick. Summer was reaching into Fall, and today was already colder than it should be. Not only that, but you had made the mistake of wearing another of your dresses which only went a little further than your knees and left your ankles bare. You were shivering and feeling glad you were almost home when your gaze fell on the bodega not too far off from your apartment. The bell tinkled as you pushed open the glass door and went straight to the alcohol section, finding yourself some cheap wine.

As you waited for the man at the cash register to ring you up, you stared behind him at the wall of cigarette boxes with graphic images and ‘smoking kills’ labels. You were the same as Dina, who never bought entire packs for herself so she wouldn’t smoke too much. At that point it didn’t matter enough to stop you. You left the bodega with wine and a pack of Marlboro lights, rushing to the elevator, hoping you didn’t come across Ellie.

She’d texted you thrice since that weekend. The first time on Sunday morning, apologizing for not having answered your texts, telling you she was fine. She asked you how you were. You didn’t answer. The second text came on Thursday, asking you if you wanted to hangout, and the last on that same day hours later. A ‘hi’ accompanied with three question marks. It had all been so strange. The lack of texts supplying you with updates on her day or raising questions about yours at the start of the week had made you sure she had, in fact, ditched you. The text on Thursday came as a surprise, but you ultimately knew what she wanted. It was the only thing she had wanted from you all this time. For you to be her fuck buddy.

You couldn’t bring yourself to reply. You couldn’t, because you knew if you did, you’d say yes, and you would go to her apartment and the two of you would have sex because you needed to be next to her so badly that you’d take whatever she gave you, let her have you how she wanted.

So when the elevator opened on your floor and she was nowhere to be seen, you breathed a small sigh of relief. You opened your door and you put your plastic bag from the bodega on the kitchen counter and looked for the corkscrew and singular wine glass. The first portion poured out was thick, three fingers tall. You kicked off your sneakers and downed it quickly as you watched the sky darken from your couch, not daring to come out onto the fire escape which was sure to be all ice-cold metal and biting breeze.

The more you slipped into a tipsy state, the more tears fell from your eyes, until you pushed past that and became the same amount of drunk you had been at that club. Too drunk to mind the cold, drunk enough to crave a smoke and a view of the sunset from the fire escape.

You thumped your feet to the kitchen where you got the Marlboro pack and the Bic lighter you kept in your purse, just in case. An unlit cig on your lips, a half full wine glass in your hands and the lighter interlaced within your fingers, you opened the window and drunkenly stumbled out of it, leaving the glass on the ledge as you flicked on the lighter. The wind and the cold bars of the fire escape against your sock covered feet were a welcome shock to your system.

You took a puff. As you blew it out, you noticed that Ellie was staring at you from her own spot on her window, leaning on the ledge sideways, one leg up. She wore a black jumper and had a pencil and a sketchpad in her hands as well a joint in her mouth. She pinched it with two fingers and puffed out a cloud which flew north, away from you and the sunset.

The two of you said nothing. The sight of her sitting there, the light bathing her in gold and lighting up her eyes was too much to bear. You made a silent prayer that she couldn’t see the redness of your eyes from where you were standing. Then you rushed back to your window, taking the glass in your hands so you could pass without it dropping.

“Hey, wait.”

You froze, half of your body still on the fire escape. There was an urgency to her voice that tugged at you. You wanted to reprimand yourself for being stupid again, but it was no use, you could already feel the glass in your heart smoothing over before it sharpened again, bigger than it was before.

You pulled your body back out of the window and sat on the ledge, taking a drag of your cigarette in search of the nicotine induced feeling of your blood-pressure lowering.

Ellie observed you with knit together brows. When she realized you were waiting for her to speak, she opened her mouth.“Why haven’t you answered my texts?” It was a sentence uttered so softly. It sounded fraught and out of place coming from her, who hadn’t made too much of an effort to contact you.

“I…” you started. “I didn’t think it mattered that much.” You stared at your thighs and the hand which rested there, holding your cigarette.

“Why the fuck not?” Ellie said, her voice flipping from soft and pleading to angry and raw.

Your head snapped to her, then back down, your hands rushing up to dig into your hair. “Just—Please, stop.”

She put out her joint and tossed it along with the sketchpad and pencil into her apartment then stood up, making her way to the railing closest to you. Her hands gripped the metal, knuckles turning white. “Stop? How am I supposed to just stop? I’ve been losing my goddamn mind this week. Why are you ignoring me?”

Hot tears gathered on your eyes, spilling over when you blinked.

“Hey, are you drunk? Are you even fucking listening—“ Ellie’s voice died off when you looked at her and she saw the wetness of your eyes and cheeks. She kept her grip on the railing, but her hunched shoulders slipped and she drew back, standing straighter.

“Hey,” she said breathlessly. “What’s going on?”

Your chest heaved, sucking in a breath only to let it out jagged. Ellie’s eyes were so wide. She was the deer caught in headlights now. The desperation you felt fed into the glass, turning your heart into an irritated and angry wound. It didn’t feel fair, that she should look so worried and broken when you were the one who had been made a fool, the one who had let her affection and hope and yearning become so big it swallowed everything else.

So you went to the railing too, and you let loose all the words piled tight in your throat. “You want to know why I haven’t answered your texts?” You gripped the bar, not caring how frozen and stiff your fingers felt. “Because, Ellie. I heard you fucking that girl that night.” She flinched. “And you know, it’s fine. Dina had already told me how it works with you. And it’s not like we ever agreed on being exclusive. So you did no wrong there. But fuck, It hurt. And I can’t hold it against you. But I also can’t—“ One of your hands flew to your chest, squeezing there at the fabric. You gazed into the distance and shook your head, tears streaming uncontrollably now. “I can’t keep seeing you when I know you don’t feel the same way I do. I have to protect myself.”

When you looked back at Ellie, her eyes were glistening. She stared at you for a second until she stepped back and broke her gaze, rushing through the window into her apartment.

Once she was gone you stepped back as well, a shudder rocking through you. You sat down on your window ledge, defeated. You had stripped yourself bare on that fire escape, made it painfully obvious that you had feelings for her, and in the face of them she had run off.

You were sucking in another drag of the Marlboro light when you heard a knock at your door. You turned your body but stayed where you were, too drunk to think of what to do. Then came three more knocks, hurried and loud. You sprung into action, putting out your cigarette on the kitchen counter, too agitated to think much into it.

You swung open the door, heartbeat coming in quick as you took in the sight of her. Ellie, standing at your door with wet eyelashes and half of her hair in a bun, just the way you liked it.

“Can I come in?” she croaked out.

You nodded and moved sideways, too dazed to speak. She sat on your couch, staring down at the sketchpad in her hands. You pulled up a chair from your dinner table and sat right before her. She lifted it up so you could see. On it were drawings of different items, all in her style. A bottle of wine. A switchblade. Her lighter. An apple split in half, the core of it showing. All of them with the same word written onto them; ‘survival’.

“I kept thinking about what you said. That first time we went out.” She looked at you. “I think you’re a lot like me.”

You wiped at your face, which was now sticky with dried tears.

“I was fucking stupid.” Ellie sighed and set down the sketchbook. “I shouldn’t have fucked that girl, especially when you could hear it—“ She rubbed her hands on her face, her voice cracking. It was solid again the next time she spoke. “But I did it because I was scared. Dina told the truth about how it is with most girls. I wanted it to be different with you.”

“But I’d been such an asshole to you in the beginning, and I didn’t know what to do with that, and I certainly didn’t know what to do with how I felt for you, cause I hadn’t felt it in such a long time and I was so terrified of messing it up that I guess I just thought, fuck it. It’s not going to work out. Let’s just get it over with.”

You had your hands on your thighs, and you were squeezing the fabric of your dress hard.

“But then…” She wrung her fingers. “Then you didn’t reply. And I knew I’d done exactly that. So I tried to go on with my life.” She scoffed. “It was fucking unbearable. I couldn’t focus at work. Any design I made had you in it. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and how I might’ve hurt you, so I did the stupidest thing and instead of telling you how I felt I just asked if you wanted to hang out. Because I convinced myself that maybe it was all in my head and you didn’t even feel the same way I did.”

She drew in closer. “Look, I won’t lie to you. I can’t promise you I’ll be great for you. I’m not easy. But I do like you. A lot.”

You exhaled. Your eyes landed on your feet, then on her. Another tear trailed down your cheek. “Ellie…”

The look on her face broke your heart. She looked so vulnerable, like she was terrified of what you’d say next. So you just got up and walked over to her, placing your hands on her shoulders. She gazed up at you, keeping her hands to herself. You planted a small kiss on her lips. Then you drew back to look at her.

She was quick to wrap her hands around your waist, pulling you to her, kissing you hungrily. You were about to settle back into the couch when she hoisted you up, guiding your legs to fit around her waist. She stood up and kissed your neck as she carried you over to your room, laying you down gently on the bed.

Then your lips were meeting again, your limbs and torso moving in tune with hers. And there it was again, that sweet nectarine feeling coursing through you. She stopped kissing you just long enough to pull off your jacket while you pushed up her jumper, after which she went back in, ravenous for the feel of your mouth against hers.

Her hand went to your dress, tugging it up, then it was sliding up your thigh and you couldn’t help but let out a pleased groan at her touch. You felt the corners of her mouth move the slightest bit. Her fingers moved to pull at your underwear, dipping inside your folds. It was hard to keep in time with her then, as your body racked through with pleasure, you kept breaking the kiss to let out gasps and moans Ellie seemed desperate to swallow.

“El,” you whispered. She traveled from your cheeks to your jaw, planting pecks along the way, her nose pushing slightly against your skin.

“What is it?” she said, but when you didn’t say anything other than her nickname, she continued the thrusting motion of her fingers, deeper and deeper until she hit a spot which caused you to arch your back and whine. The orgasm built inside you and crashed down your legs, leaving them trembling. You inhaled and exhaled hard. Ellie withdrew her hand and brought her fingers to her lips, licking them. You hid your face, smiling.

She laughed and brought it back so you would look at her. You wrapped your legs around one of hers, so that your thigh was up against her warmth, making her grunt. When you began moving your body up and down, your thigh followed, and she hugged your arms, desperate to feel more of the pressure.

Your moans blended into each other. Ellie came first, and you came right after she started touching your neck and sucking the thin skin there.

Her hands went to your face, cupping it in her palms, her fingers brushing up and down your cheeks so her digits could feel the little parts which were still damp. Your own fingers studied the freckled bridge of her nose, the scar at her brow, the curve of her lips. Her eyes were red, and you didn’t know if it was from the weed or crying or both. Time passed differently. It didn’t matter how much of it you spent.

-

a/n - pls feel free to comment what you think!! I love receiving comments I might not reply to them all bc I don't want to be annoying but I promise I see them and I love them smm

@boobdrug @macaroni676 @appleofmyii @hemmo01 @elsmissingfingers @elliesapple @fatbootymuncher @d1psht @liasxeatt @metrolinha743 @nouvell-vague @salvatoreamoree @bforest

p.s. I love ur usernames...sorry if I missed anyone

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

some days are harder than others - Jack Hughes

Word Count - 1.8K

Summary - Today is the anniversary of losing your favorite family member suddenly. Your solution push everyone away and pretend that today doesn't excist.

Warnings - talks about the grieving process and mentions losing an aunt.

Author's Note - Today is actually the anniversary of my Aunt passing, she was one of my favorite humans and I think I wrote this to try and get some feelings out and processes my overall emotions about today. My heart goes out to anyone who can relate to this piece of writing because it sucks having to live life without your favorite human by your side anymore.

Masterlist

Today is a hard day, it’s the anniversary of when your favorite family member passed away. Waking up in bed you were grateful it was a Saturday and you didn’t have to take off work because there was no way you were going to leave your bed today. All you could do was try to wrap your brain around the fact that an entire year has passed - 365 days - since one of your favorite human beings left this earth.Wishing for nothing except to wallow in your own pity for the day, but you knew that your boyfriend Jack would be here soon since it was Saturday. Every single Saturday consistently coming over after he was done with the boys at the gym. But you didn’t want Jack to come over today, you wanted to be alone. Jack and you have only been dating for 6 months and although he has heard stories of your aunt he never met her. Today was meant to be a day for you to mourn the person you lost and the fact that she never got to meet the love of your life, or be at your wedding, or meet your future kids. Jack is a great guy, but you feared he wouldn’t understand why you were upset about the fact that your aunt never got to meet him. Finally looking at your phone since you woke up, your eyes barely focusing on the time 10:33 AM, before closing again out of pure exhaustion due to crying so much the night before, the warmth of your sheets helping the lure of sleep claim you once again. 

Opening your eyes again, waking up the banging of someone at your door. All you wanted to do was crawl further under your sheets and hide from the world, play pretend where your aunt was still alive even if your brain only believed it for a few seconds. But the banging continued, you knew Jack wouldn’t stop until you got up and came to the door or he got tired and used the emergency key you gave him last month. 

“Y/N! If you don’t come soon I will use my key!” he threatened. 

Shit I should have timed giving him that key until after today, you thought to yourself. Well since he plans on using it no point in me getting up. Pulling your comforter over your head, completely continuing your attempt to hide from the world around you. Taking a deep breath, as you heard Jack’s voice loud and clear along with his footsteps now. 

“Baby where are you?” he asks, his footsteps getting closer to your bedroom. It would be so simple to use your voice and tell him you were in your room but your voice felt raw with the tears streaming down your face thinking about what you were doing this time a year ago. 

Finally making his way to your bedroom, the door creaks as he opens it. “Y/N? Are you asleep, love.” he whispers, and it causes your voice to crack and a loud painful sob to be unleashed.Still hiding under the covers you feel the bed dip, meaning that Jack must have sat on the bed. The assumption you made, confirmed to be true when you felt his hand slide up and down your body trying to bring you comfort even though he didn’t know what was wrong. “Baby you’re scaring me, did I do something wrong?” his voice slightly creaking, suddenly your stomach dropped out of guilt for making Jack feel even slightly insecure. 

“Nnn - no.” you answer once you stop yourself from crying so hard. Your voice scratched as your throat burned from all of your tears. 

“What wrong babygirl?” he whispers scared if he raised his voice any louder you would start crying uncontrollably again. Slowly lifting the comforter off of you trying to catch a glimpse of your face. He swears his heart cracks a little, and his stomach drops when he sees how puffy and red your eyes are from crying, even though your hands are still covering most of your face. “Please tell me what I can do?” he begs. 

“Can we cuddle?” you ask weakly, Jack’s face grows a full toothy grin at your request. 

“Of course baby.” he gently says as he pulls the covers back to slide into the bed next to you. Jack laying on his back as you intangible your legs, half laying on top of him as your ear is pressed up against his chest, finding comfort in listening to his steady heartbeat. Jack lets you both lay there, he doesn’t speak, one hand playing with your hair, the other under your shirt lightly scratching your back. After a few moments, your body starts to relax for the first time that day. Closing your eyes allows yourself to be comforted by someone for the first time that day. 

Jack must have felt your body relax, sleep calling your name because the last thing you heard before you fell back asleep was him whispering in your ear. “It’s okay baby, I’m here, I’ll be here when you wake up.” Feeling a gentle kiss on the crown of your head as you felt your body fully drift asleep. 

Jack was true to his words, because the first thing you felt as you woke up was his grip on you and the first thing you heard was his little snores in your ears. Slightly moving to try and get a little more comfortable because your body felt glued to Jack’s, your arm was pinned under his back and it felt like pins and needles. Trying to get out of his grip must of been enough to stir Jack awake. He turned his body to the slide and slowly opened his eyes gently. 

“Hi baby.” he whispers, sleep still clear in his eyes. 

“Hi” you whisper back, finally getting your arm free and bringing it to lay between you and Jack. 

“Can we talk about why you were so upset earlier?” he asks gently, taking his arms pulling you a little closer to him. 

“It’s just what today is. That’s all ” you admit shyly. Jack’s eyebrows scrunch up in confusion as a slight frown gets put on his face. 

“And what’s today?” the curiosity and confusion laced in his deep voice still covered from his nap. 

Taking a deep breath through your nose and out your mouth preparing to speak out loud for the first time today, what got you so upset. “Remember how I told you about my aunt, the one who helped raise me, one of my favorite humans.” You pause waiting for Jack to acknowledge your words, once he needs you to continue. “ Well today is the one year anniversary of her death and I just -.” Your voice cracks as the tears start again. 

Jack pulls you even closer, your head finding its home in the crock of his neck. “Shh it’s okay baby you don’t have to say anything else. It’s okay to miss her, I know you loved her by the way you still talk about her, it’s alright baby.” His voice is soft and free of judgment. “Shh it’s alright” he coos to you. 

Staying in the crock of his neck, you move a little so you can speak. “It’s not just that Jacky. It’s that she was the most important person in my life for so long and such a big part of my life. I never thought there would be a day where she didn’t meet the love of my life or be at my wedding or be at the hospital for a child's birth. God how I wish she was still here” 

Jack held you while he heard you talk out all of your thoughts and feelings. “But even more I wish she would have met you before she left. The things I would do to have one last phone call with her, one last hug, one last time she tells me “I love you, be a good sweetie.” The tears now blur your vision as you close your eyes and hide in Jack’s neck again. He squeezes you until it’s hard for you to breathe but somehow that brings you comfort as you let yourself grief your best friend. 

“I am so sorry for my love.” he whispers. “And I’m so sorry I didn’t know what today was, I would have skipped the gym. And I know she meant so much to you. It’s normal for today to be hard. I wish I could have met her too but do you remember how we met?” he asks. 

Now it was your turn to be confused, removing yourself from his neck and wiping your tears off your cheeks. “Yeah of course I do.” you mumble extremely confused about what the anniversary of your aunts death has to do with how you met Jack. 

“Well I remember seeing this pretty girl at this little restaurant eating by herself.” Looking into your eyes as he starts to tell the story of how you two met. 

“Jack, I know how we met. What does that have to do with my aunt?” your annoyance is clear in your voice as he chuckles. 

“Well it was after your aunt had passed, you were at her favorite restaurant because you missed her and it was her birthday that day, her first heavenly birthday. And for some reason some restaurant that had been on my list to try since I moved to Hoboken I just happened to walk in that day.” he starts rambling and you really don’t understand where he’s going with his story. 

Sighing you ask “Jack, what’s your point?” 

A smile on his face, “my point is that for whatever reason I felt like the universe told me that day to go to the restaurant and you just happen to be there even though it was way out of your way on your drive home from work. And I know I never met your aunt in person, but maybe just maybe your aunt was watching over you that day and that’s why I felt the need to finally go to a restaurant that I had been meaning to try for 6 years.” 

A large smile comes across your face as you understand his words, “Are you saying my aunt sent you to me?” a giggle coming off your lips. 

“I’m not saying anything except that I know that somehow your aunt is still watching over you. There is no way that you can love someone the way you describe her love for you and not watch them and look after them in heaven baby.” Slowly coming down to kiss your forehead. 

“I love you.” you whisper. 

“I love you too, and you know grief isn't a simple baby, it’s okay that some days are harder than others.” 

“I know.” laying your head on his chest again. 

“What do you wanna do for the rest of the day baby?” he asks

“Can we just watch her favorite show and order takeout?” 

“Of course baby anything you want.” he whispers as he grabs the remote from the bedside table.

[sour-leminies]

I LOVED THE SMILE HOOK FIC. So can we get more hook x fem reader. Maybe like reader is like Elsa so she has ice powers but is like scared of having friends? Sorry I explained it bad😭

Ice Cold

Paring: James Hook x Snow Princess Reader

Summary: As a girl, you loved the snow, ice skating, anything cold. However when you grew up — you learned the dangers of your power, and that snapped you out of control. Everyone had seen the incident, and they shunned you.

The cold hearted princess, they called you. Your heart had frozen over. No one could trust you — your own sister was afraid. So alone you became. All because of a mistake of a little girl.

Instead of choosing a side. Villain or hero. You had accepted your role in the shadow. You hadn’t expected for someone to shine the sun on you — thawing out that ice wall you’ve built. Especially not a pirate.

Warnings: Mentions of blood.

Taglist: @unhealthy-obessions @4ng3l-ch1ld @herondale-lightworm @astrynyx @snixx2088

Navigation — other works!

Sighing I placed my notebook onto the desk, my glove hands flipping to the next free page.

Merlin’s class had been relatively quiet, for once. There was no singing, no dancing, no fights. This was quite rare, and k had a feeling it wouldn’t last.

Writing my name on the page, I had started to write down all of Merlin’s notes on the board.

The door slammed open and a bunch of Vk’s came in noisy. I knew the silence wouldn’t last.

“Sorry we late teach!” Some kid said with a British accent. I didn’t bother to look up and just continued writing.

“Hades go sit by Maleficent. James you can sit by ms. Y/N.” Footsteps made their way in my direction and the chair beside me was pulled out.

Boots slammed onto the table. I slowly turned my head to him. He was leaning back in his chair one arm behind his head as if he was relaxing.

“Do you mind?” He looked over to me, “not at all lassie. And you can just rip a page out your notebook to write my notes on.” The audacity this man has.

“I’m not doing your work, now get your filthy feet off the table.” I shoved his legs, not really budging him, before making sure it didn’t dirty my gloves.

“Filthy? I bathe quite often thank you very much.” He finally set his feet down, and adjusted his position to the edge of his seat. “Who the hell are you?”

“None of your business, no use that good had of use, and write what’s on the board.” I kept my glare sharp as I gave him a spare pen and paper.

Before he could say anything else I focus back on the board and continued writing.

“We got off on the wrong foot.” Literally. “My name is Captain James Hook. You are?” I looked down to the hand he held out to shake.

No point in being rude, “Y/N, princess of Ariendelle.” I disregarded his hand. Just because I have the gloves on — doesn’t mean I should go acting recklessly.

The hand dropped, and thankfully Hook fell silent the rest of the class. I started to pack up my things, and Hook grabbed my attention when he immediately sat up and went to discuss something with the teacher.

Not your business Y/N. I quietly walked out the class, whatever few people in my way to my next one hurried out of it. Guess they didn’t want to risk getting involved with me.

❄︎

I walked into Merlin’s class expecting the seat next to me to be empty, considered how many other seats were available. However my assumption was wrong as a certain pirate sat with his feet on the table. Just like before.

“Ah Y/N let me talk to you for a second.” The few other people in the class looked to me as Merlin gesture for me to come over to him.

Doing as told I walked in front of his desk. “I really need you to tutor James Hook.” I immediately started to shake my head no. “Listen I don’t like him.” Not true, but I didn’t love him either. I was indifferent about the man — what I wasn’t indifferent about was tutoring someone that will give me attention.!

I liked my little spot in the back, tutoring probably the most popular guy in school sends a direct beam of light onto me.

"Please Y/N. This is the only way to get his grade up. Besides you owe me for giving you that extension." I released an annoyed sigh; great he's cashing in his 'IOU'.

Very well. I turned back around and took my seat, kicking hook's feet off the table in the process. "You're going to need to start bring supplies to school." Was the first command I listed off. I ripped out a paper and gave him a pen. "Now pay attention to the teacher then tell me what you don't understand after the lesson." That was the second command I listed off, and surprisingly he did as told.

❄︎

Over the course of the next three weeks Hook did everything I asked — and his increasing grade was the proof of it.

However tragedy then struck. Book decided to sit at my empty table for lunch — and bring his friends.

I went to walk to a different empty table, but he was quick to jump up and push me down on the bench. This is kidnapping, I’m positive.

“Y/N this is my friends.” I did a little wave, my face void of emotion but annoyance laced in my eyes.

“Hey! I’m Morgie — yk? Son of Morgana.” I gave a nod, I knew who all these people are. Perks of being popular? The whole school knows you.

“So Y/N,” the ‘leader’ of the group spoke. “Any interesting qualities we should know about?”

Oh just some ice powers that i sometimes can’t control and it can do some serious damage to others. And if you were to ask around I’m sure someone from my home land would blab.

“None that I think would interest you.” Uliana gave a small hum.

“I think having powers would interest me, especially if you’re getting involved with hook.”

“Me?” I looked around — ready to deny the claim that was 100% false. “I’m not getting involved with the pirate.”

James did a light gasp and dramatically put his hand over his heart. “I’m hurt darling. I thought we were closer than that your highness.”

So maybe me and Hook made a deal not to mention our backround to each other.

“Just how powerful are you?” The sea witch spoke up again. Causing me to stop the fighting between me and Hook. “That’s my business. Besides — it’s prohibited for me to use them.” I looked away from the eyes on me and over to the pink bubbly princess of hearts.

Everyone liked her, well besides the Vk’s. It was a shame — cause once she makes one mistake, gives once scare to the people there a high chance she’ll be turned away from everyone.

“What? And you follow those rules?” Morgie son of Morgana asked, as if I grown two heads. I smiled at the blonde boy sarcastically.

“When you get in trouble, in fights, break the rules, what does your mother do to you?”

He smiled oblivious. “I get ice cream.” I raised my brow waiting for him to piece things together. After a few seconds of him not getting it, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

“Me breaking the rules isn’t worth getting on my parents nerves.” Something Maleficent I know would disagree with.

Her parents were quite like mine, hating her rebellious nature, but she loved the fact that she was a disgrace in her mother’s eye.

“Oh.” He said, now finally getting it. Once I tried to be the perfect daughter to get my parents love, but when that didn’t work I was mean and cruel to them. It didn’t change anything so now I just ignore them till I can’t. They do the same.

❄︎

I started to tie up my laces, ready to skate on the ice. The rink was closed by this late of night, but I had stolen the key and copied me an extra one.

The night crew don’t come until three more hours, leaving me with the perfect alone atmosphere.

Or it was.

A person sat next to me, causing me to look — thinking it was some kind of security. However the person that sat next to me was no other than James Hook.

“What the hell are you following me?” He opened his mouth to answer, but I cute him off with another question. “How the hell you even get in here? The doors are locked.” I looked around — trying to see if anyone else was here.

“Pirate.” Was his answer, as if it was an obvious one. “What are you doing here?” I know for a fact Hook doesn’t care about ice skating.

“Is this what you do in your spare time?” He asked, deflecting the question.

I rolled my eyes, and for a moment I could feel my hands starting to freeze up. I stood up, taking a few steps away from him before I grabbed my gloves on the seat next to me.

There’s a reason I skate alone and it’s cause the cold makes my power grow stronger and haywire.

“You’re shaking. Are you cold?” I shook my head no, but before I could say it he had already wrapped his coat around me.

“I don’t need this. The cold doesn’t bothe—“ I cut myself off based on the look he gave me. I felt myself release a shaky breath, trying to step away from him, making sure not to fall in these skates.

It didn’t matter though because every step back I took, he took a step forward. “You’re jumpy today.” He commented. “Yeah, you’re kinda in my zone.” It reply was immediate and my tone was snarky.

“What’s the matter?” For the first time in a long time it had actually felt like I had been seen. Not looked at, not glared at, but seen. Like he had actually seen me in this moment and not the facade I put on.

“It’s best you leave me alone Hook.” I slightly pushed his chest away, and when I went to pull my hand back he caught it in his. Keeping it pushed up against his chest.

“Why?” Because despite what people think I’m not a monster and I don’t want to see you get hurt.

“I don’t do friends.” That was true, it was best for everyone. It was best I be alone.

“I’m not looking to be your friend.” My hands started to shake, and I felt hurt. It had been a while since I’ve felt that. Someone not wanting to be my friend. Being hurt someone didn’t want to be around me.

“Ask me what I want.” I tried to pull my hand back once again, feeling my hands start to form mist. However he still didn’t let go.

“Ask me what I want.” He repeated. My breath hitched as my nerves spiked. “What do you want?”

“I want to be more than your friend.”

I shook my head, not wanting to believe what he said. He couldn’t want that, he shouldn’t.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do.”

All I’ve ever wanted was someone I could lean on, but I learned at a very young age that the only pillar in my life is one made of ice.

“Go back to the dorms Hook.” I finally got my hand free and skated across the ice, away from him.

❄︎

You had expected Hook to leave you alone after you rejected him. However that just drove him more.

Since that night, any chance he has he’ll try to talk to you, give you gifts he definitely stole, and always flirt.

Flirting was second nature to the pirate, but that was nothing compared to the way he took it with you. It was quite known to the whole school, that you had Hook wrapped around your finger.

The more Hook got to know you, the more he vowed to do whatever to make you happy. He was falling, but he was desperate to drag you down with him.

❄︎

You had watched the ice rink, empty. Tonight you made no effort to get on the ice. Tonight you were alone, and you hated it.

Out of a moment of weakness you called Hook and asked him to come to you. He did so without question, and as fast as he could.

So you watched the Ice rink, with him, in silence. He hadn’t asked you what was wrong — he knew you need to be with someone, not interrogated by them.

“When I was a little girl my parents and sister had loved my magic.” It was the first thing said, and Hook let you get everything off your chest.

“One time this duke had came to our home. I had asked to leave me alone, but he kept prying and prying, making me uncomfortable.”

“Out of self defense or more really it was an accident, I had used my powers to move him away. It was an accident.” Your voice broke.

“He had turned to solid ice, there was no covering up what happened. The whole kingdom knew by the next morning. That very night my father and mother had called me a monster and took me to the magic rock trolls.”

“I was given gloves to help control my magic. It didn’t matter how good I was, or how much I tried to redeem myself. They looked at me like I was a murder, and I guess I was.”

“I’m a villain, Hook.” You finally looked at him, tears dropping down your face. “And villains don’t get happy endings. It’s the first thing you learn.”

He was quiet, and then you knew you screwed up — you scared away the one person who had not made you lonely.

You looked away from him and back to the ice. For a second you were to caught up in your thoughts to feel him remove your glove. But when the air hit you, you immediately panicked — trying to grab it back.

“Hook, give it to me.” You looked to him scared, scared for him.

He kept quiet as he slid his palm against yours, wrapping his fingers around your freezing one’s. Your hands were so cold and getting colder by the second.

You tired to remove your hand but he tightened his grip. You could give him frost bite and he would never remove himself from you.

“I already have a happy ending. Love.” You looked at him crazy. “Love? Love doesn’t exist.”

“Maybe I can teach you.” You went to pull your hand away once again but instead he pulled you to him, over the seats.

His lips shut yours up. His lips were so soft, and delicate. He kissed you with experience, but an emotion that felt similar to the one building in your chest. One that made you feel warm, a feeling that consumed you, that demanded James Hook.

He pulled away slightly, his lips still brushing against yours, and his breath fanning your face.

“You say villains can’t get happy endings, but you’re my happy ending. Let me share that with you.”

Maybe, just maybe you didn’t half to be alone. Because even if you said no, Hook would always be with you. If not in person that in that ice cold heart that is starting to melt.

Your hands warmed slightly, and Hook knew you were his endgame. You were his once upon a time. You were his — as much as he was yours.

—

A/N: this feels short, but I’m sorry I got to it so late! I hope you enjoyed it.

[satorusugurugurl]

Til’ the Day that I Die

Summary: You’re a popstar in need of a bodyguard when you find yourself with a stalker. That’s how you meet Fushiguro Toji, you’re insanely hot bodyguard. Who knows how to push your buttons, and get you feeling flustered. Just how far is he willing to go to protect you? And how far would you go to protect him?

Pairing: Fushiguro Toji x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: (PLEASE READ) mentions of anxiety, serious stalking, panic attacks, language, mentions of knives, some upsetting mentions of unauthorized photographs

Word Count: 4,457

A/N: Here’s the long awaited part two!! Oof this wrote itself!! 😈

Part One Part Three Part Four

“So yeah, that whole conversation you listen to with me telling my manager to tag the hospital in my video because that hospital inspired this song! It was a public service announcement, a reminder to help those who can’t help themselves!” You were fuming with anger at this bodyguard making some cold assumptions about you. One thing you wanted to do was use your stance in the public eye for good. God, you couldn’t stand assholes like him! Dicks who presumed they know everything and anything about you! “And another thing—!”

The next words didn’t have a chance to leave your mouth as the doors to the elevator opened to your apartment. The automatic lights you were so accustomed to being on were now off, which sent shivers down your spine, your sixth sense alerting you that something was wrong. Toji, the one facing forward, could see into your apartment, and he moved it before you even had a chance to look inside. When you asked him what was wrong, he remained silent, only shaking his head as the elevator doors shot and began ascending down.

That had been thirty minutes ago, and the once silent lobby was now bustling with police cars and passersby. They all stopped to take in the scene that was unfolding. Their peering eyes and camera flashes didn’t bother you in the slightest; that was something you were used to. It was not knowing what had happened in your apartment that set your anxiety off.

Toji's sighed and kept his eyes focused solely on you as a sleek black car pulled up to the police line. He recognized your managers hurrying out of the car and rushing towards you. Geto was the first to reach you, grabbing your shoulders, his eyes scanning you for injuries. Gojo was only a few feet behind his husband, sitting on the curb next to you, his arm draping over your shoulders as you visibly relaxed at their presence. Toji had unfortunately been in this line of work for a fairly long time and had seen his fair amount of lowlife managers, but with your manager's empathetic actions, your bodyguard knew you had lucked out with a great team.

So maybe he shouldn’t have judged you so quickly.

“What happened? Are you okay?!”

“We would’ve been here sooner, but traffic was a bitch.”

You took a deep breath, reaching up to touch Suguru's hand, which rested on one of your shoulders. “I’m okay; I don’t know if I could say the same about my apartment, though.” your friends shared a look that clearly communicated words without speaking.

“But you’re not physically hurt?” Satoru asked in a smooth, almost relaxed tone.

“No, I'm okay.”

“Oh, thank fuck, we thought it was worse.”

Something inside Toi’s chest snapped as he whirled around. “Worse?” he questioned, a black brow twitching. “This is one of the worst-case scenarios!” he stomped his suit, straining against his broad muscles as he pointed back toward the apartment building. “This bastard got into her apartment building undetected and was in her personal space for who knows how long.” You watched as Satoru removed his arm from around you, holding his hands up in front of him.

“I-I just thought it was good because she wasn’t hurt!”

“You’re lucky she wasn’t hurt! If she had been in the apartment when this asshole was there, you might not be looking at a fucked up breaking and something. How did you put it? Worse!”

Toji’s actions from the instant he saw your apartment to when you both were calling the police had gone from cocky, lazy full of attitude bodyguard to full-on protective mode. His eyes were constantly roaming around. If anyone approached you, he stood in front of you, making sure he listened to any questions they asked, or if they tried to hand you something, he looked at it first before deeming it safe for you to look at. This man standing before you had made a complete change, and you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t feel safe. This was the first time since the appearance of your stalker that you felt like you might be okay.

“Fucked up break-in?” Your dark-haired manager questioned his dark eyes, glancing in your direction, drawing you out of the thoughts that you had been distracting yourself with. “Just how bad was it?”

You swallowed at your slightly dry throat. “I-I don’t know.” you could feel the weight of their gaze crushing you.

“You don't know?”

“I wouldn’t allow her to see it,” Toji added in for you, sensing the growing stress in your chest. “ I refuse to let her see what’s inside.”

You fought against the rise of nausea that washed over you as Satoru and Suguru gave you concerned deluxe. You weren’t sure what thoughts were whirling around inside their hands, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to know. Even though you were certain those thoughts revolved around what could have happened inside your apartment.

You didn’t want to know what he had seen that had him in such an alert state. The fact that he had covered your eyes, refusing to allow you to see what he had, didn’t leave you curious or eager to discover what happened, but you knew God. You knew it was going to be something you would have to see. Because you were out of your anxiety medication, and there were a few things in your apartment you wanted to retrieve, and there were certain things you didn’t want anyone else looking for.

“I-I’m going to see; I need to see it.” Your voice was barely audible, but whether it was because of his height and skills as a bodyguard or the fact that he was an earshot, you weren’t sure, but around, staring down at you as if you had just verbally insulted him, his mother, and his ancestors. “Please don’t look at me like that.”

“There’s no way you just said that,” Toji swore before crouching in front of you as Suguru stood up, giving you space. “Please tell me my ears are still ringing from your concert, and I didn’t hear you say you need to see the state of your apartment. There is no way you just told me that; you can’t be that stupid.”

“Okay, for starters, I’m not stupid.” you snapped, eyes narrowing at the larger man before you. “I have to grab a few things that are in there.”

“I’ll grab them for you.” Toji barked back, glaring daggers into your eyes.

“I don't want you digging through my stuff.”

Through his head back with a laugh, his eyebrows furrowing together before he leaned closer towards you, closing the distance. “Sweetheart, I hate to break this, but somebody already has gone through all of your stuff.” his words struck you like hail in a raging storm with the terrifying reminder that someone had been in your home going through your things. But you didn’t appreciate the attitude he had behind his tone.

“Fuck you.” the words that left your mouth were like venom, but they seemed not to affect him. “I need to get some stuff. I don’t care what the state of my apartments is in.”

“Oh, trust me, you won’t like it. So no, you’re not going up there.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No—”

“She needs to grab more of her medication.” Suguru finally snapped in, putting a stop to the bickering. “That’s why she needs to go up there.” the look you gave your friend didn’t phase him. “My girls give me nastier than that, so keep it up. It doesn’t bother me. I want to get you out of here as soon as possible, but bickering isn’t moving along.”

So you took medication for the anxiety you Toji could see etched into your features earlier. His navy blue eyes glance down at your hands, watching your index and middle fingers twitch. You were fighting off one, and if it was this bad, you were most definitely going to need your medication. That still didn’t mean Toji was so keen on taking you upstairs.

“I can grab it for you. He said in a much softer tone that he would often use with Megumi. “Can you tell me where they are?”

“It’s upstairs in my closet.” Before Toji could even question why you would keep it there, you sighed. “Inside my safe—” You ignored the look he gave you, and you stood up instead. “I have people coming in all the time, and I don’t need anyone telling the paparazzi I have terrible anxiety. People do about anything and everything to have five minutes of fame.”

Toji shook his head, standing with you. “And I’m going to assume you’re not gonna tell me the code?” You just gave him the sweetest smile you could muster, one that was often reserved for the paparazzi.

“Seeing that you need my thumb to open it, I would rather keep it attached to my hand. I’m going to have to go with you.”

Toji did not like this. He didn’t want you to see the horrors that awaited you on the third floor of the building. He also knew that he was limited to options at this point. You were stubborn, stubborn as he was, and there was no point in fighting with you—not when you needed to go upstairs to open your safe. With a reluctant sigh, Toji motioned back towards the building.

“Let's fucking go; Geto’s right. We need to think about getting you out of here as soon as possible.”

You tried to keep a calm face, especially since you were already on the verge of a panic attack, and the flashing from the cameras didn’t help. The last thing you needed for this story to go public. You could see the headlines already! ‘New Rising Popstar Has a Stalker?!’ Or ‘New Popular Popstar Home Vandaliszed!’ Plus, if you were to slip up and let your mask slip, revealing the anxiety-ridden girl underneath, that would give anyone who knew you an opportunity to run to the press with information regarding your performance anxiety. Anyone would rush at the chance to spill the beans about how you put on a persona, and you weren’t the person that everyone believed you to be.

That sounded about as entertaining as this whole fiasco has been. So it was better for you to keep a straight face and head to your apartment. Suguru and Toji, the sooner you leave, the better.

Your managers had insisted on coming with you both up to your floor; that way, they could help you pack some bags and collect the things you may miss in the state of panic. You would most likely find yourself when you look inside the apartment. You would have to make a mental note to get an extra prescription to keep with your managers or keep your child home or somewhere else that wasn’t in a safe in your apartment that was supposed to be guarded around the clock but had somehow broken into. Unfortunately, you would have to consider doing this; it was like adding another cog to the clock, which was your busy life.

As you rode the elevator up to your apartment, thoughts of what to do and how to do it, plotting, planning, and preparing, were at the forefront of your mind. Thinking of stupid, mundane things to add to your already busy life had been the perfect distraction you needed. Otherwise, your mind would’ve been reeling with different scenarios or visions of how you pictured your apartment.

Was it trashed, spray painted on the walls, or did they go through your underwear drawer and throw them all over the place after doing terrible things with them? Were your beta fish still alive? Had your stalker destroyed all the books you had collected over the years? There were countless possibilities of what had occurred within those walls, and each time you came up with the scenario, you thought back to Toji’s reaction. You weren’t sure if the things you were thinking about were enough to start a man of his physique and demeanor.

The only thing you were sure of was that whatever awaited you was enough to make you never want to return.

The dinging from the elevator sounded as you reached your floor. You took a deep breath, lifting your head, only to come face-to-face with your bodyguard's chest. Your eyes roamed up the tight button shirt to his face, where he looked down at you with a weary look.

“It’s not a pretty sight. I’ve never seen anything like this before. So if it gets too much for you to handle or if you can’t handle it, you tell me, I’ll cover your eyes, and we’ll head straight to your closet, okay?”

“It’s that bad?” You asked, not knowing if you wanted the answer.

“Yes.”

You had made it a point that you needed to come up here and see what this had done to your home. If you were to turn around and decide you didn’t need the meds that would keep you calm and your mind clear, you most likely would’ve already turned around and begged to be brought back to the lobby. But as hard as you wished and dreamed that would be the case, you were close to losing it. You could feel the anxiety creeping up, wrapping its tendril fingers into your chest, constricting your airway. If you didn’t take your meds fast, you were going to break down, and that wasn’t going to speed up the process of getting you away from the apartment any faster.

‘They’re the best.’

Nanako had assured you just hours before. You needed to have faith in the bodyguard your managers, some of your closest friends, had picked out for you. Inhaling deeply through your nose, you shut your eyes tight before nodding your head once; you needed to go through with this, and if it became too much to handle or if you found yourselves spiraling down the drain oven anxiety attack, you could tell Toji. Assuring you he would be there for you gave you the strength to look into his eyes.

“I understand; if it becomes too much for me to handle, I’ll tell you, I promise.”

There was a glint in your eyes, one full of determination that Toji wasn’t expecting to see. But behind that determination, he could still see your finger shaking despite you doing your absolute best to try and conceal it. While he didn’t know much about you, you were pretty easy to read, and he couldn’t have been more about you with his first assumption. And he was glad about that. Because you would have to be strong to live with the sight you were about to see.

With a deep breath, Toji stepped to the side, allowing you to see your apartment for the first time in days. But it hardly looked like your apartment. Your hand shot up to cover your mouth as you stepped back further into the elevator.

How was this the same place you called home?

Thousands of pictures hung from the fifteen-foot ceiling on fluorescent red strings. From the back of the elevator, you could see that the pictures hanging from the strings were all photos of you. Pictures of you at your shows, sipping coffee at a café, shopping with your face mask on, covering your mouth and nose. There were photos of you and your family eating at a restaurant together—pictures of you at the gym working out, grocery shopping, stepping into your shower, naked.

But the pictures weren’t even the worst part. Your couch had been overturned and looked as though someone had a hunting knife to the cushions, carving in the initial of your first name, followed by a large X and an M. Red hearts had been scribbled all over your walls and floor, coffee table, couch, recliner. You could only hope that it was paint and not blood. But the piece of resistance was the mannequin facing the elevator entrance, dressed in one of your lacey undergarment sets—a wig sat on top of the mannequin head that resembled your hair type and color to the tea. But the mannequin didn’t have a face. Instead, a camera with a crevice where the face would usually be. And around its neck hung a piece of paper, with ‘I See You!” Written in the same red substance that covered your walls.

“Holy fuck.” Satoru whispered, overlooking the state of your once beautiful apartment. “I-I don’t even know what to say.”

“Is that still recording?” Suguru asked, glaring at the dummy. “Why haven’t the polic—”

“We’re working on dusting for fingerprints at the current moment.” A calm, soothing voice announced from further inside. Somehow, you had harnessed the strength to step inside the apartment, not wanting to be held down by the chains of disbelief and shock. “Please make sure not to touch anything if you can.”

You saw a man in a finely tailored suit approaching your group when you looked up. He wore white gloves on his hands and held a notebook. The detective was handsome, with well-trimmed blonde hair and a tie fastened perfectly. The man standing before you took care of himself, and from his body language, you could tell that he took his job very seriously.

“Hey, Nanami.” Toji greeted.

“Zen’in, good to see—”

“Nah, I go by Fushiguro. Took my wife's last name.”

“Ah, apologies, I hadn't realized.”

A certain amusement seemed to swell in your chest as you glanced between the two men. You didn't realize your bodyguard was married. He didn't have a wedding band on, and from his harsh tongue, you weren't sure if he had much experience talking to someone, but it seemed like you were wrong.

While you were trying to imagine what Toji’s wife looked like, honey-brown eyes clashed with your far-off gaze, snapping you back to reality. “And what can I help you with? We’re still investigating and looking through the security footage. So, as of right now, I sadly have no information for you.” As quickly as those words left Nanami, Toji jumped in.

“We just wanted to grab some things from her safe and some clothes. Then we’ll be out of your hair.”

Nanami pulled his phone out to make sure his fellow officers and detectives were done with your room. Waiting for a response felt like sinking into water, and the photos that hung around you were like the current pulling you further under the surface. Seeing yourself in those pictures doing mundane tasks felt so dirty and wrong. You felt violated in ways that your heart had your heart squeezing.

“Fuckin’, is that our office building at the entrance to our house?” Satoru‘s disbelief pulled you back to the surface.

“Yeah, it is,” Suguru confirmed, looking at the photo his husband was motioning to.

Thoughts of their girls flashed through your mind, and it wasn’t just them. Your concern for all your friends and family twisted your stomach into knots of dread. Your stalker had been everywhere you usually went, from the photos hanging around you. Your schedule, habits, and favorite places to go had been documented and hung from your ceiling. In a way, it conveys what the mannequin just outside the elevator said. ‘I See You.’

This person has been watching you for God knows how long, and since they know pretty much everything you do to everyone you talk to, he leaves you feeling dirty and clean. You want to do nothing more than jump into the shower and scrub your skin raw to rid yourself of the film you felt wrapping around your body. You want to clean yourself of the fear, pain, and harsh reality that you had inadvertently put the people you loved in danger.

If your stalker went to such extreme lengths when it came to vandalizing your apartment, just how far would they go if your loved ones were to try to prevent him from drawing closer to you? Would they take further actions to harm you and everyone you loved? Dealing with a stalker was something you hadn’t anticipated happening—something you didn’t want to happen. Yet here you were, stuck with the unknown reality of what would fall upon you and the people you cared for.

“Hey.” the warmth of a hand gently grabbed your wrist and made a soft gesture. “Did you hear that?”

No, you haven’t heard anything but your thoughts. They had been buzzing so loudly, like an agitated hive of hornets. “Uhm, no, I’m sorry I didn’t.” Instead of annoyance or irritation, Toji gave you a gentle smile.

“Nanami said we can grab a few of your things.” Knowing that you would be able to get a hold of your medication relieved the tension in your spine. That brief relief allowed you to hurry up the stairs, fighting against the harsh, crushing reality you had found yourself in.

The second story of your apartment was in the same status as the first floor. Red hearts covered the walls and floor. Books from your office have been thrown around, but thankfully, they were still intact, and more photos hung from the ceiling. Your bedroom was a total mess. Clothes have been thrown around. The bed had been messed up. It seems the stalker had taken the same hunting next to your mattress. So you’ll have to buy a new one and sheets, fearing what might have happened to your once clean bed. Seeing the state your room was left in, your stomach was doing flips.

Unlike the main living area and office, your bedroom and bathroom are more intimate. Knowing someone was inside made your skin crawl with fear. It was wrong on so many levels, leaving you feeling claustrophobic. But you didn’t have time to process the loaded motions fully.

You rushed to the closet, opened the safe, and collected your medication while Suguru and Satoru packed a bag for you with some seemingly untouched clothes. Toji kept his guard up, not faulty, even though detectives and officers surrounded you. Seeing him so alert still left you feeling safe, even if this was one of the worst nights of your entire life.

But thankfully, the four of you were fast, and before you knew it, you were heading back down to the main lobby. The prospect of escaping the nightmare had you relax as you followed your managers to their car. You were so happy you were finally getting out of there. The crowd of spectators had grown, and it would only be a matter of time before someone took a photo of you by accident.

“Alright, let's get you back to the house.” Suguru opened the door to the backseat for you, and you were about to crawl in when Toji reached out, preventing you from moving. “Fushiguro, we need to get going—”

“She can't go there.”

“Uhm, yes, she can,” Satoru added, walking to the driver's side. “And if we don't get her out of her, there's a risk she could get recognized, and this isn't the publicity she needs.”

Toji seemed to ignore the words leaving your PR manager's mouth. “She was photographed at your office and home, right?” Silence grows between the four of you; the only sound is the growing crowd. “If she's not here, he can check for her at the gym or her parents’ house.” Toji shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “Any place that was photographed is compromised. She's not safe at any of those places.” The truth of his words crushed you, leaving you feeling weak in the legs as you tried to think of anywhere you could stay.

“So what? We book her a hotel?”

“No, it's too risky, not secure enough.”

“This is ridiculous. I have a security system. She’ll be fine at our house.”

“As her bodyguard, I highly disagree.”

“As her friend, I assure you she’ll be safe with us.” Invisible streaks of lightning flashed between Satoru and Toji, the tension and testosterone growing between them.

You tightened your grip on your bag, gnawing at your bottom lip. “He’s right. I can't stay with you guys.” Suguru frowned, shaking his head as he gently grabbed your free hand. His lips parted to speak, but you quickly shook your head. “I can't put you and the girls at risk.” Satoru looked as though he was seconds away from throwing you into the car himself as you took a step back. “I-I can't put any of you at risk. You saw my couch and my bed; this person is dangerous.” The silence was nearly palpable, meaning they knew you were right.

“Okay—? So what the fuck are you going to do? It's not like you have a lot of choices! You can't stay here or in a hotel.”

“She’ll stay with me,” Toji announced, taking your bag from you.

You blinked once, your jaw dropping open before you shut it. “Huh?” You had misheard him; there was no way he said that.

“I said you can stay with me.”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @luvsymai

Til’ the Day Tag List: (AGE MUST BE IN BIO MDNI)

@justagirl-with-aphone @flowerpot113 @elitesanjisimp @fandomtrash5092

[writeyouin]

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 4

Chapter 4 - Hell's Assumptions

A/N – Okay, I think that’s everyone on the tagging list. So, here’s to Chapter 4. Raise a glass.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

MALE VERSION HERE

GN VERSION HERE

Tag-List: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx@sseleniaa@randomgurl2326@22carolina08@astrxwitch@yu-87 @clover-1767 @lil-bexie @thesimpybitch @reverse-soe

People were staring.

The worst part was, you weren’t sure who they were staring at, you or Lucifer. It could have easily been him since he was the King of Hell, and even those who didn’t immediately recognise him could sense the power he exuded. However, it was just as likely that they were looking at you and wondering who you were, and how you had managed to get their ruler to walk with you, especially since he wasn’t known for going out much.

Fortunately, when people saw Lucifer coming, they moved to the other side of the street, staring, whispering, taking pictures, but keeping a safe distance.

Lucifer was used to this kind of thing. He walked confidently, held a charming smile, and was generally non-plussed by the attention. You, on the other hand, felt awkward.

‘This was my idea,’ You mentally reminded yourself.

You tried to hold onto that thought as you attempted to strike up a conversation.

“So… What’s it like in the Embassy building?” You asked, quickly realising that it was a terrible topic as Lucifer’s smile became a glower.

You shouldn’t have reminded him where he was going. It was obvious he hated Heaven for their treatment of him, yet yearned for it and the life he had lost within its pearly gates where nothing went wrong for anyone.

“Sorry,” You said hurriedly. “I didn’t think- uh, nice weather we’re having?”

Lucifer smiled and shook his head. He couldn’t believe you. Only the night before, you had told him to grow up, with such confidence, and now here you were struggling for words. He bypassed the awkward situation with ease by asking, “Will you be visiting the Hotel today?”

“Oh, uh… Maybe. I would like to see everyone again. Check that Nifty hasn’t set anything on fire. Make sure that everything’s okay, and-”

You had been about to mention Angel Dust. Today was one of his work days. You would like to check that he was okay. You didn’t mention him however, with something like a confidentiality clause stopping you, though you weren’t his doctor, nor was he your patient. You didn’t want to talk about his suffering; he was more than his trauma.

Instead, you said, “I would like to check in, but maybe not today. Besides, you’ll be there tonight, won’t you?”

“Yes. I’d like to deliver the news to Charlie personally, and perhaps coach her on some of Heaven’s stricter rules.”

“Then, I think I’ll stay at the manor. I wouldn’t want to step on your toes. You and Charlie- I think you need to catch up a bit, without any interruptions. She missed you, you know.”

Lucifer ruminated on this for a minute. Whatever your motivations, he was glad that you were giving him and his daughter some space. Granted, the Hotel was large enough to house many conversations in separate areas but by making the offer of keeping your distance, you were giving Lucifer some breathing room; that was good.

Had you not made that offer, Lucifer might have brought up the topic of moving you back into the Hotel to Charlie, but in respecting his boundaries, Lucifer was starting to think that you weren’t so bad… for a Sinner.

“I missed her too.”

“Can I ask,” You said hesitantly, “What kept you away so long? You clearly think the world of her.”

Lucifer sighed, and stopped in the middle of the street, “I-”

He didn’t get to explain his absence.

Instead, he became annoyed as two Sinners, one who looked like a nine-year-old boy’s dream with bazooka arms and rocket-infused shoulders, and the other a winged bear-woman wielding a machine gun burst through the building on the opposite side of the road, waging war upon one another.

“SHIT!” You cursed, seeing the debris that threatened to crush a lone imp who hadn’t reacted quickly enough, his leg trapped under the first brick segment that fell.

Reacting quickly, you threw out your arms. A light green barrier shielded the imp from further harm, but you struggled under the weight of so much wreckage.

“MOXXIE!” A female imp yelled, running to him.

You thought she might struggle to lift the wreckage off him and were about to ask for Lucifer’s help before your barrier would inevitably crumble. Yet, the female imp was stronger than she appeared and she threw it off Moxxie. She then lifted him bridal style, and ran from the danger, shooting you a grateful look from across the street.

You gasped and shuddered as you let your arms fall, your barrier fading from existence.

“You shouldn’t have bothered,” Lucifer said as you straightened up.

“What?” You breathed heavily, recovering from the exertion; one of the weakest Demons in Hell, with your limited abilities.

“It was a nice thing to do, but what’s the point? Look around,” Lucifer threw his arms up dramatically. “Someone built something nice, and now it’s gone, all because two Sinners couldn’t take their petty power struggle somewhere else. Nobody benefits from this.”

You opened your mouth to argue but were interrupted by the same two imps you had just saved, “Hey there, I’m pretty sure my husband is delirious right now, but he wanted to come over here.”

“I’m not delirious, Millie,” Moxxie said pointedly, clinging onto her shoulder to support his weight; his leg was in all likeliness broken, but being an imp of Hell, it would heal quickly enough.

Millie looked at him sympathetically, likely thinking something along the lines of, ‘Baby, we’re the only ones on the same side of the street as His Majesty, but do what you gotta do!’

“I must thank you most humbly for your remarkable rescue in my name, good Lady,” Moxxie exclaimed pompously, probably presuming that since you were accompanied by Lucifer you were of a much higher station than you were. “Without you, I would certainly have perished, so I find it an appropriate time to extend my gratitude.”

“He means thank you,” Millie affectionately translated.

“You’re welcome,” You smiled. Then, with a small flourish of your fingers, Moxxie leg was bandaged and he was provided with a crutch to hold onto. You were no healer, but that would help the bone set correctly.

Moxxie and Millie thanked you both again, presuming that Lucifer had been part of the rescue (and in a way he was, for when the warring Demons saw him, they took their battle elsewhere), then they were gone, one limping down the street on his new crutch, and his wife offering to carry him.

“You’re wrong,” You said, once the pair were out of sight. “They benefitted.”

Lucifer didn’t know what to say about that. They were only imps. Why did you think they mattered? Yet, after watching the loving couple thank you for their rescue, Lucifer wasn’t certain that he trusted his assessment of the situation. Charlie wanted to redeem Sinners, you had just saved the lowest of all Hell’s beings and he…? He needed to reassess how he thought about things.

The two of you didn’t speak after that and Lucifer assumed that you were mad at him until you reached Heaven’s Embassy. Lucifer stared at the building, broken and hopeless, thinking about how he would have to fight for Charlie.

He was about to take the first step towards it when you rested your hand on his shoulder.

He stared at you, surprised.

“Good luck,” You proffered sympathetically. Then you walked away, and Lucifer was left staring after you. So, you weren’t mad at him after all. What a curious person you were.

He looked back to the building before him, the one place in Hell that was perfectly pristine, and unable to be harmed by anyone. After a deep breath, he headed inside.

When Lucifer returned home, he was exhausted. The meeting had been lengthy and derogatory. He had been treated with barely disguised disdain and talked in circles, but finally, Heaven had agreed to allow his daughter passage to Heaven.

It was never an option really. As the ruler of a powerful realm, Lucifer had to be treated respectfully, even if all of Heaven hated him. Yet, just because they had to acquiesce to his request didn’t mean they hadn’t tried to talk him out of it. The only good news was that it had been Sera and a few of her assistants who hosted the meeting, not that ignorant prick Adam; Lucifer hated that guy… though his taste in women had always been spectacular.

Still, it had all been worth it when he got to the hotel and Charlie thanked him and invited him to stay for a while. They had caught up over tea, and he had gotten to know a little bit more about her and her relationship with Vaggie. Lucifer likely would have stayed longer seeing as he’d also been invited to games night, but then that red-headed bastard was there, grinning like a Cheshire Cat, and Lucifer had made his reasons to leave.

Now, all he wanted was to recover in peace.

On his way upstairs, he heard the long-neglected TV blaring in one of the living rooms. Feeling somewhat guilty about his unsupportive attitude towards you earlier, he decided it would probably be good for him to make amends and apologise. So, before isolating himself for the evening, he sought you out.  

You were hunched on the sofa, watching 666 News, and grimacing at the new headline, King of Hell’s New Fuckbuddy.

Lucifer stood quietly behind you, watching as Katie Killjoy reported, “While Hell will be royally fucked by the impending extermination it seems that King of Hell Lucifer is being royally fucked by his new bimbo bitch, seen walking with him today on the streets of Pentagram City.”

Security camera footage of you and Lucifer from earlier filled the screen for a minute before returning to the hosts.

“Who is this Sinner? Does Lucifer get off on Angelic clothing? We hope to find out more soon. Over to you, Tom.”

Tom Trench continued the report, much less assuredly than his co-anchor, “Nobody can say for certain they’re together. Some speculate the Demon to be his highness’ new assistant or-”

Katie clutched Tom’s neck in one hand, never looking away from the camera as she cut off his air supply, “Nobody gives a shit about your limp-dick opinion Tom. We’re all here to speculate about who’s raw-dogging who. Now, onto our cooking segment, It’s Dahm Good, with host Jeffrey who is making a delicious spleen soufflé. Jeffrey-”

“HA!” Lucifer laughed, pointing at the TV.

“Shit!” You yelped, lurching forward, having not known he’d returned home. You turned the TV off and stood to face Lucifer.

He was doubled over and wheezing at the idea that you and he would ever be together.

“Well, at least you’re not upset about this,” You grinned, finding his good mood contagious.

“What morons. They’re always just there, assuming the weirdest shit whenever I go out,” He laughed.  

“Yeah? So, it’s okay people know we’re friends?”

Lucifer straightened up with a smile. So, you classed him as a friend? He didn’t confirm or deny your assumption of friendship. He waved his hand, unbothered, “Let them think what they want to think. It’s Hell, nothing matters. Besides, 666 News is trash.”

“Yeah, you’re right. So, how did the meeting with Heaven go? Did they agree to meet with Charlie?”

Lucifer sobered up slightly, though he didn’t seem as upset as he was earlier when Heaven was mentioned, “Yes. The meeting’s in a week. Charlie is- She’s optimistic.”

“And you?”

“I- My girl can handle it.”

“Yeah, she can.”

And so it was that you and Lucifer started to find some common ground, that slowly built the gap from two people who barely knew one another, towards friends.

[cameronspecial]

I wanted to ask if you could write something with rafe where reader does selfharm and he finds out? Maybe with a soft version of rafe

Not Going Anywhere

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: SELF-HARM and Talks of DEPRESSION (Please don't read if these are a trigger).

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.1K

A/N: If you or anyone you know are experiencing depression, then please know you are not alone and there are people who can help. The internet has information on the best places for you to go to in your country. Not tagging anyone just in case this is a trigger for anyone on my tag list.

Masterlist

It isn’t for attention. That is one assumption most people make whenever they see the scars. It’s the reason why she hides them on her hips. She doesn’t have to worry about anyone seeing it because no one sees her naked, not even her boyfriend. The only times the marks see the light of day are when she changes or showers. She makes sure the cuts made can be hidden by her underwear and any panties or bikini bottoms she buys need to pass that test as well. 

No matter how wrong she knows it is, she can’t help but hold the cold sharp blade against the tough skin. It is resting on top of a barely healing scar because she has no other place for it. Her breath hitches as she pulls the Exacto knife across her, going a little farther than the mark already made. Tears are running down her face. Her eyes blur as she repeats the motion below the blooming red line. Her breath is uneven and hitches every time the metal touches her skin. In some sick way, the pain gives her a small relief. It gives her a reason.

Most people wonder why someone would cause harm to themselves. They would guess that the despair is caused by a lack of food, shelter, money, clothes or love. However, Y/N doesn’t have that issue. How could she when she is a kook? No, she has never felt hunger or fear and that is the cause of the turmoil inside of her head. Nonetheless, ever since she entered teenhood, she would experience these months-long periods of extreme sadness. She would do her best to hide them from everyone by pushing herself to get out of bed and go to activities that she would normally enjoy. She would make sure to cry when no one else was at home and to track her family members’ phones to verify she was alone. It was a secret she kept so deep within her that she started to question why she felt this way. That is when the true problems began. She felt guilty for feeling this despair without a reason and it was furthered by the secrets she had to keep, so she began to self-harm as her reason. In her brain, partly because of what society has told her, she needed a reason for why she was melancholy because there are people in the world who were dealt much tougher times in life. 

So, that is how she finds herself standing in front of the mirror, holding down the right side of her underwear and dragging an Exacto knife along her skin. She has fallen into one of her episodes and this time, it is the worst one to date. She has never pressed so hard into her skin with the blade. It has never bled this much. She curses as the blood begins to seep into the cotton of her underwear. Her attention is on stopping the red from staining her clothes, so she doesn’t hear the front door open. 

Rafe whistles whilst he uses his copy of the key to open Y/N’s front door. People thought it was too early when they exchanged house keys after only six months of dating. They didn’t though. It felt like the next step when she told him that she was saving herself for marriage. They found a different way to reach a new level of intimacy and it worked for them. Her house is eerily quiet and dark. Normally, she keeps the hallway lights on when she is home and if she is watching TV/listening to music, it is so loud that it could make a deaf person hear. He doesn’t let the lack of normality stop him from making his way to her bedroom, thinking nothing that her door is closed. He uses the doorknob to push it open and he is surprised to see her standing in front of the mirror with her hands pressing against her hip. It takes him a second to process that blood stains her hand. His shock turns to worry as he rushes to her side. He trips over something in his attempt to get to her and looks down to see a bloody Exacto knife, like the kind she uses to cut things for her art. He kicks it away and removes her hand from her side. He curses at the amount of blood. This needs stitches. 

“My love, what happened?” he asks, hoping the theory he has isn’t true. He sees the tears running down her face and the way her mouth opens and closes. She has no idea how to answer. The hiccups of her crying make it even harder. Instead of waiting for an answer, Rafe washes his hands and gets the first aid kit in her bathroom. He uses the bandage wrap inside it to catch the blood, instructing her to use it to apply pressure whilst he guides her to his car. The drive to the hospital is silent. 

———

Y/N told the medical practitioner the truth as to how she got the cuts and scars. She couldn’t lie with Rafe in the room. He had offered to step out, except she asked him to stay. She was tired of lying. It only added to her exhaustion. Y/N didn’t have to say much before the doctor excused herself to get a hospital psychiatrist. Rafe said nothing as she described the anguish she felt. He felt a sharp stab to his heart at every word she said, criticizing himself for not seeing the mental pain his girlfriend was in. 

With the doctor gone, he speaks up. “Is there anything I can do right now that can help you feel more comfortable?” She appreciates that he doesn’t assume that there is an easy fix to this or that at the moment there is something quick he can do to make her feel better. His focus on her comfort causes a flutter in her stomach. She nods, “Can you just hold me?” He joins her on the hospital bed and pulls her to his side. The buzz of the lights is the sole thing that can be heard for a while. “This isn’t your fault,” she clarifies, concerned that he might think it. He kisses her temple, “I know. Thank you for trusting me enough to be in the room when you told the doctor what happened. This isn’t your fault either and you are so brave for asking for help. If you want, I will be here to help you every step of the way.” A different kind of relief comes over her. She feels a glimmer of hope that she doesn’t have to do this alone. “I want you here,” she whispers, pressing her face into his side. “Then I’m not going anywhere.”