#would he treat me better or is that exactly what the last two girls he was with thought

[almostempty]

FYBF (javier x f!reader)

(javier x f!reader) | wc: 4.8k | other fics |

javier takes you home to prove that he can fuck you better than your boyfriend

this pwp was inspired by me having FYBF stuck in my head and the line "I prolly wouldn't treat you better, but I'd do you better"

tags/warnings: 18+ gratuitous smut, infidelity!, no condom, no editing, no y/n, no plot

🎤 i just wanna say that this one goes out to a special baddie and i hope she likes it when she reads it (happy belated bday @gothcsz this for u)

He can’t take his eyes off of you. Every time the lights flash, illuminating your glowy skin and the fluid roll of your hips to the music, he tries to see everything all at once. Tries to map your body, plan exactly how he’d make you sing for him. 

You’re a vision. Feminine and fierce in a way that calls to him. The balance to his masculinity and the tenderness that he wears on his sleeve. 

You aren’t alone. Your friends are gorgeous too. The two of them surround you, smiling, twirling, and mirroring your rhythm. The three of you dance like the rest of the room is watching; like the rest of the room doesn’t exist. 

You’re a playful trio, a dangerous trio. Grinding against each other. Bouncing between each other easily. Maybe you’re more than friends, he wonders, as you tease each other, tangling limbs, and winding your sweating bodies together. You all have magnetic energy. A gravity. The rest of the room orbits around the three of you. 

But, Javier is drawn to you. You’re graceful, yet powerful. Devastatingly sensual. He leans against the bar, shifting his weight on his feet, and wetting his lips. He surveys the rest of the club but always comes back to you. It’s dark, loud, and hot with all of the bodies in the building. 

He knows it’s a slim chance–interrupting the three of you–maybe this is your girl’s night out or something. But then, the song changes to something more melodic. You thread your arms over your head, accentuating the lines of your body, exposing your smooth skin and your curves.

You might as well have a spotlight on you like it’s your revenge dance in a romance film.

Javier’s fingers are itching to touch you. He can feel the weight of your tits in his palms, taste the soft spot at the hinge of your jaw on his tongue, and feel the swell of your ass rubbing against —

Yeah, his dick can feel it, too. Twitching in his jeans. Javier tightens the fist at his side and he slams down the last of his drink. Discarding it on the bar without a glance backward. He can’t turn away from you; he refuses to lose sight of you. 

Your dress ripples, shining when the light hits you as you shift. It looks like it would be soft and slippery to the touch. Just like the rest of you. As your eyes shut and you sway, he decides you’re a fucking killer. You could take him apart moving just like that—but on his lap. You could end him with a look, fuck, he wants to see for himself. 

He’s on the move now. Compelled. You see him, running your eyes over his body. It’s like a rose-colored path pulls him closer with every step. Javier knows it’s his chance to strike. 

He’s on you in a second, slipping in front of you with a compliment and asking, like a gentleman, if you’d give him a song. He doesn’t miss the way you run your eyes down his body and back to meet his gaze. You like what you see, baby? It hangs on his tongue and crooked grin. 

“Sorry,” you murmur into his ear, not slowing down the roll of your body. “I’ve got a boyfriend.” You grip the back of his head tightly, fingers woven into his hair. As if the strength of your grip is the only thing keeping your lips from finding each other. As if sharing the same breath with your noses nearly brushing each other isn’t intimate. 

“A boyfriend,” he repeats, not backing off. The club is dark, loud, and filled with hot, sweaty bodies. But when he dips closer and his lips brush your ear, you can hear every ounce of lust and challenge behind his next words. “If you really want him, why are you apologizing?” His rich voice makes your veins buzz. 

“Seems like you’re wanting me,” you retort in a silky voice, “I can’t be what you need.” He runs his wide hands down your sides, wrapping around your waist. It’s all too much, but fuck, you can’t stop. Proving your point, he guides you, and you’re pliant for him. He turns you, pulling your hips towards his until the swell of your ass rubs along the hard line of his cock. “Fuck,” you breathe out, imperceptibly. 

“Just once,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, making your skin prickle and your resolve falter. “Just tonight.” You almost laugh, almost scoff, but his hands tighten on your hips, guiding your movements like he’s already claimed you. The thrill of it, of how badly he wants you, sends a shiver down your spine.

“Just once,” you repeat, but it doesn’t come out sharp or mocking. It sounds like surrender.

He tilts your head back, making you meet his eyes. His gaze is molten, the corners of his mouth curling into a smirk that’s too knowing. “When you want more, we’ll figure it out,” he says, so confident, so sure, it makes your chest tighten.

The nerve. The arrogance. You should roll your eyes, but instead, you find yourself staring at his lips, imagining how they’d feel.

“You think you can treat me better?” you ask, your voice sharp, deflecting, desperate to push him away before you actually fall into him.

“Nah,” he admits with a small shake of his head, his honesty so casual it catches you off guard. It shouldn’t make you laugh, but it does, softly, a sound that feels dangerously like complicity.

“But I’ll fuck you better,” he adds, dead serious, the weight of his words crashing down on you.

Your breath hitches. Your cunt clenches around nothing, suddenly feeling devastatingly empty. Your body answers him before your mind can catch up. Rubbing against him, searching for more. 

Your silence stretches, but it doesn’t feel like victory. It feels like a test. Javier’s smirk deepens as if he already knows how this is going to end. His thumb brushes over your jawline, a featherlight touch that juxtaposes the ferocity in his gaze.

“You know it’s true,” he murmurs, his tone dripping with amusement. “Your boyfriend,” he pauses, letting the word linger like an insult, “doesn’t even know how to make you look like this.”

“Like what?” 

“Like you’re thinking about how fast you can get me alone,” he says, cocky and unrelenting. Javier’s fingers slide lower, skimming across your waist. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

You don’t. You can’t.

“You think you’re irresistible?” you fire back, your voice sharp, trying to cut through the haze he’s wrapping around you.

“I think you want to find out,” he murmurs, his lips hovering near yours. “I think you’ll let me prove it.”

The heat in your stomach coils tighter. You want to push him away, but your body betrays you, pressing closer instead. His scent—spicy and rich—wraps around you like a trap. The club feels suffocating, the music distant. All you can focus on is him.

“Quit playing,” you mutter, though your voice lacks conviction. “You’re not that good.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his expression equal parts amused and predatory. “Let me show you.”

Before you can answer, or argue, he grabs your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. His grip is firm but not forceful, the silent question in his eyes daring you to say no.

The rational part of you screams to stop this. But the rest of you? The part that’s been craving something more? That part wants to find out if he really is as good as he claims.

You part from him briefly, giving your friends a flimsy excuse. Then, turning back without a word, you let him lead you out of the club. 

The car ride is quiet but electric. His hand stays on your thigh the entire time, the pressure just enough to keep your pulse racing. He doesn’t talk. Doesn’t need to. The smug tilt of his mouth says it all: he knows he’s won. 

When you get to his place, he steps aside to let you in first. The door closes with a soft click, sealing the tension between you.

“You want this?” he asks, leaning casually against the wall, like he’s giving you a choice but fully expecting your answer.

You should leave. Go him to your empty apartment. Call your boyfriend. But instead, you turn to Javier, arching a brow. “Your mouth only good for talking?”

His grin sharpens, all teeth and promise. "Oh, I’m gonna ruin you." He pushes off the wall, arms unfolding and drawing you right toward his broad frame. You can feel the heat radiating off him, the strength in his body like a slow-moving tide, pulling you under.

Before you can fire back, he’s on you. His hands grip your hips, pulling you flush against him, and a shiver runs through you at the contact. Your body feels like it’s on fire, every inch of you hyperaware of him, of the weight of his hands on your skin, the hardness of him pressing against your stomach. 

His lips find your neck first, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your skin, his breath warm and intoxicating. Your pulse quickens. His touch is so deliberate. Knowing. His hands are everywhere—spanning your waist, sliding down to grip your ass, pulling you tighter against him, holding you like he can’t get enough.

You feel the desire flooding through you, the way your body melts into his with such ease. You should stop. You should push him away, tell him you don’t need this. But then his fingers dig into you, and your body responds before your brain can catch up. His grip on you is possessive, like he owns you already. You can’t fight it. You don’t want to fight it. 

He walks you backward until you’re leaning against the wall, your heart pounding in your chest. You swallow, trying to steady yourself, but you feel weak. And then, he drops to his knees in front of you and you think you might actually combust.

“You look good up there,” he teases, his voice husky, low. God, it does something to you when he speaks like that. His hands push up your skirt, his eyes locked on yours, daring you to look away. You don’t. You won’t. He pulls your panties down and you’re on fire, aching for him. “But you’re gonna look better after you come for me.”

The words make your cunt throb. Before you can think to respond, his mouth is on you. His tongue glides against you, the first slow, deliberate swipe making your knees buckle. You gasp, an involuntary sound that escapes your lips before you can stop it. Fuck. He works you over, teasing and tasting, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. Every stroke of his tongue feels like a sin, a slow burn that builds in the pit of your stomach.

His grip on your thighs tightens, fingers digging into your flesh, and you realize he’s holding you steady, keeping you in place. His hands feel so sure, so confident, pulling you deeper into him, his lips pressing against you with a hunger that leaves you breathless.

He doesn’t rush. Of course he doesn’t. Javier never rushes. He seems determined to take his time, to savor every moment, like he’s proving a point. You can feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, his teasing strokes making you dizzy and needy.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he murmurs against you, the vibration of his voice pulling you in deeper. His breath fans across your skin, setting you alight, as he pulls back just enough to look up at you. Maddeningly confident, lips glistening from how wet he’s had you all night, his smirk is predatory. A warning. A promise. 

A sight you know you won’t forget. 

“Already forgetting how to talk?”

You steady yourself against the wall, trying to summon some strength, some defiance, but your body is already betraying you. The heat in your core is almost unbearable now, and every flick of his tongue only makes it worse. You bite your lip, your eyes meeting his, willing yourself not to give in completely. 

“You think this is enough to ruin me? That you proved anything just by getting on your knees?” you challenge, your voice surprisingly steady, though your pulse is hammering in your ears. You don’t want to admit it, that you’re already close, that you’ll be getting off to the memory of his lips wrapped around your clit for weeks. 

His eyes darken, a predatory glint flashing in them. He doesn’t say a word, just grins. Slow, knowing, and dangerous the curve of his lips has you swallowing hard. He presses in closer, his body a wall of heat against yours. “Oh, no,” he says, his voice low and dark with promise. “This is just the beginning.”

You’d roll your eyes at him for being cliche, but he dips his head back down and you know that he’s right. You’re already lost, and it’s too late to turn back now.

His tongue and lips work with an intensity that leaves you breathless. He alternates between broad, sweeping strokes and more focused attention that sends lightning through your veins. The slick heat of his mouth is overwhelming, and every time you think you’ve hit your limit, he finds a new way to drag you closer to the edge.

Your hands find his hair, tangling in the soft strands, holding him to you like you’d collapse if he stopped. “Fuck,” you breathe, your voice breaking as his teeth graze you lightly, just enough to make your hips jerk.

“Easy,” he chides, pulling back just enough to flash that debased smirk. His face is flushed with exertion and the sight alone nearly undoes you. “Stay with me.”

You manage a shaky laugh, tugging at his hair in retaliation. “Still right here,” you bite out, your voice laced with defiance.

His tongue works you in slow, torturous circles. He moans against you, the sound vibrating through your core, and the sheer pleasure of it has you arching into him, chasing the friction he’s so generously giving.

“You taste so fucking good,” he groans, his grip on your hips tightening as he pulls you impossibly closer. “I could stay here all night.”

The thought makes your knees threaten to give out, and he notices, of course he does. His hands shift, one sliding up to steady you.

“Don’t you dare stop,” you whisper, your voice a desperate plea.

He chuckles darkly, the sound muffled against you. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

And true to his word, he doesn’t let up, working you over with a skill and focus that makes you dizzy. Every flick of his tongue, every scrape of his teeth, every hot, open-mouthed kiss drives you higher and higher until you’re trembling. He adds his fingers, increasing the pressure, and multiplying the intensity. He uses them expertly, fucking into you with them and working in tandem with his mouth to flood your senses. 

When you hit a peak that makes your muscles spasm, and euphoric waves radiate through you, it’s not quiet. It’s a gasping, desperate sound that echoes in the room, and the satisfaction in his eyes as he watches only makes it ring deeper in your ears.

Before you can catch your breath, he rises to his feet, his lips curling into that same cocky smirk that got you here in the first place. “Told you,” he says, his voice low and rough, like he’s savoring every second.

“Not bad,” you manage, though your voice wavers as you lean back against the wall for support.

“Not bad?” he repeats, his grin turning wolfish. He steps closer, his body pressing against yours. 

Javier doesn’t let you recover. He brings you to his bed, stripping clothes off in such a frenzy you don’t get the chance to really admire him. He’s urgent. On a mission. Pulling you on top of him and hooking his hands under your thighs. 

 “Come here,” he orders, his voice a low, commanding growl. “I’m not done.”

You start to protest, but he’s already moving, guiding you down onto him as he lies back against the mattress. He looks up at you, with clear desire, his hands gripping your hips like he owns you.

“Ride my face,” he murmurs, his voice so dark it’s a weapon. “Don’t get shy now.”

The challenge in his eyes leaves no room for hesitation. You settle over him, your thighs wobbly as his mouth finds you again. This time, there’s nothing gentle about it, he’s relentless. Encouraging you to move, to use him, to drown him underneath you. 

The sheer intensity of it makes your head fall back, a strangled moan spilling from your lips. The way he groans against you sends vibrations through your core until you’re barely able to hold yourself upright.

“I’m close,” you gasp, your voice raw and desperate.

That spurs him on. His hands tighten on your hips, guiding your movements, and when you finally break, it’s hot, overwhelming, and all-consuming. You collapse forward, panting, as he slowly eases you down from the high, his lips and tongue still working gently, reverently.

When you manage to lift your head, his grin is smug, his lips shining as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “How was that?” he asks, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Am I still all talk?”

You glare weakly at him, but the fire in your chest betrays you. “Shut up,” you mutter, collapsing beside him on the bed.

But Javier isn’t done. He shifts above you, his body covering yours, his weight pinning you down in a way that makes you feel deliciously trapped. His hands roam your skin like he’s memorizing every curve. He presses kisses to your shoulders, your collarbone, the swell of your breasts, murmuring soft, filthy praises between each one.

He notices how sensitive you are and you can hear the delight in his discovery. “You like that,” he declares. You can only hum in agreement as he rolls your nipples between his fingers. He takes his time, testing the ways you respond to his fingers, tongue, and teeth. He’s quick, learning exactly what makes you gasp and whine. 

Repeatedly working you up with soft swirls of his tongue over your hard nipples and rough pinches that make you squirm. He uses his teeth sparingly, but with finesse, keeping you on edge. 

“God, you’re perfect,” he says, his voice rough with awe.

Your breath stutters, his words striking something deep, but before you can respond, his mouth is on yours. His kiss is a slow burn, deliberate, his tongue darting out to taste yours.

“Not perfect,” you whisper.

Javier lifts his head, his dark eyes piercing. “Wrong,” he purrs, his lips curving into a dangerous smirk. “You’re perfect for me. I’ll make you believe it.”

Without another word, he’s back down between your legs, his mouth finding the sensitive skin at the juncture of your thighs. His tongue is hot and insistent, dragging every ounce of pleasure from you with ruthless efficiency.

He groans against you and your back arches off the mattress, a helpless cry spilling from your lips. “There she is,” Javier murmurs, his voice muffled but dripping with smug satisfaction. “Let me hear it.”

“Please,” you gasp, your hands gripping his hair, holding him to you greedily. He chuckles darkly, the sound reverberating through your body. “Please, what?”

You need him to get over his oral fixation and fuck you already, but you can’t find the words and your hands can’t seem to let go. He’s relentless and tapped into some sort of self-restraint and stamina you couldn’t fathom. You strain your neck, tipping your chin to your chest to watch him work.

You can’t tell if he’s this set on getting you off on his tongue to prove his merit to you, or if it’s more for him at this point. He uses everything. Nose, lips, tongue, chin. Inundating you with all of him. With one wide, heavy hand splayed across your lower stomach, he keeps you in place. His other hand keeps your thigh spread wide for him. 

What does ruin you–that you would never admit to him–has nothing to do with his mouth or his hands. It’s when you prop yourself up on your elbows, and you can see his hips rutting slowly into the mattress. It makes your eyes roll back. It confirms how badly he wants you in a way that feels more raw and vulnerable than any words he could say. 

That knowledge obliterates you. Stealing your breath, and any control you have over your own muscles. You sink, body rolling and contracting with relief and satisfaction. Javier doesn’t stop. He rides out your high, his tongue and lips coaxing aftershocks that leave you breathless and whimpering.

You relax, your hazy, pleasure-drunk mind is quiet and empty for a moment. He takes advantage of your pause, his fingers stroking over your sensitive skin, making you jolt, gasping his name.

His hand slides between your thighs, fingers slick and knowing as they stroke over the spot that has you gasping, your resolve crumbling with every second. “Javier,” you choke out, louder this time, your back arching off the bed.

“I know,” he murmurs, satisfaction dripping from his voice. The sound sends a thrill through you. He kneels between your legs, his body so broad and overwhelming as his hands grip your hips, positioning you just right. His cock presses against you, teasing, demanding, too much, too soon, yet it feels like the only thing your body craves. 

He shifts his hips slightly, and the tip of his cock nudges against your entrance. Your breath hitches. You feel the heat of him, the weight, the promise of how he intends to ruin you.

“Going to make sure you don’t forget me,” he says in a low, gravelly voice, and your body responds to the dominance in his words, buzzing for what’s next. He pushes into you slowly, inch by inch. His eyes never leave yours, dark and intense, watching you as if he can see straight into your soul.

Holy fuck. The stretch is overwhelming but it feels so right, so perfect. Every nerve is on fire, each sensation magnified as he moves deeper. God, he feels good. Sinking in so slowly, you can’t breathe, can’t think. Just the feeling of him inside you, claiming you completely.

“Feel that?” he murmurs, his voice a low growl, the vibrations of his voice reverberating through you. “I want you to remember every second of this. Every inch of me.”

You try to hold on, but it’s impossible. His voice is lethal. The heat of his body against yours, the way his cock fills you completely—it’s all you can do to stay lucid, but you want more. Your nails dig into his shoulders, your head falling back as he reaches the end of you, as deep inside of you as he can get. Your chest rises and falls with shallow breaths.

Javier groans, the sound almost painful. Hungry. His hands grip your hips like he’s holding himself back, the tension in his body taut, coiled, ready to snap. He’s holding back? The thought is enough to make you moan again.

“Perfect for me. Just like I knew you would be.”

The words make your walls clench and flutter around him. He’d use that against you if he wasn’t trying desperately to keep it together now that he knows what it feels like to be inside of you. There’s nowhere to look to steady himself. Your face glows, drunk from the orgasms and his praise, your tits glisten with sweat and his saliva–he slams his eyes shut only to see every detail of you just the same. Another deep breath and he presses on. 

His pace is slow at first. Sawing into you with torturous precision. Each thrust designed to make you feel all of him. 

It doesn’t stay slow for long. His pace picks up, a steady rhythm that makes you writhe. You want to beg, but you don’t know what it is you need. He gives it to you hard, hips snapping as he grunts from the effort. Knocking all of the guilt you’d been smothering right out of your mind.

His force overwhelms you, destroying you with bliss and a floaty time-warping joy. Altering your future, distantly you know you’ll be forever changed because of him. 

He doesn’t stop. Oblivious to the seismic impact he’s having on your pussy and future. 

He shifts his position, pulling you upright with effortless strength. Just like in the club as he rolled against you, you fit together so perfectly it’s obscene. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, mindless as he fills you with his cock again, deeper at this new angle. You’re at his mercy. Intoxicated by the way his length tortures every nerve inside of you. 

His face is still steeped in concentration and satisfaction, but there’s something else that makes you study his eyes. The more of a mess you are the more his pride swells, but it’s not about proving his point to you. It’s about proving something to himself. A whisper of vulnerability hides behind his words. You’re too out of it to understand what it means. Just aware there’s something more. 

“You feel that?” he growls, using his deliciously bruising grip to give you the support to bounce along his cock. His lips brush your ear as you flicker between the sensory overload and the clawing, hot need to come again. “This is what you’ve been missing. What you’ll be thinking about when you’re with him.”

You know he’s right. You can only nod your head, chanting yes in rhythm with his hips snapping into you. 

You bury your face in his neck, your breath coming out in short, desperate bursts, the sweet torture of him driving you wild. His hand slides between your bodies, his thumb finding your swollen, sensitive clit and rubbing, and you break again, your body shattering, surrendering to him.

Your nails rake down his back, desperate for release, as you bounce against his slick, toned body. 

But he’s not done. On a warpath. If he only gets one night, he’s going to make it a guarantee. 

He lays you back down with a shift of his body, his hands sliding under your thighs to lift your hips, angling you perfectly. The new position sends you into another realm, your body is his and all he wants to do is wring out every last ounce of pleasure within you. Over and over again.

“Look at me,” he commands, his voice low, rough, and dangerous. You force your eyes open, your gaze meeting his, dark and hungry, and in that moment, you know there’s no turning back.

“I want to see your face when you come for me.”

Each word will be etched into your mind forever. When you dream of him, when you touch yourself, every time you close your eyes. 

His thumb presses against your clit again; it’s rapturous. You come undone beneath him, your body trembling violently, your voice hoarse as you call out his name and a string of curses. 

He follows seconds later with a broken groan. He buries himself deep, giving himself over to you, his cock pulsing with the same urgency to fill you as your cunt clenches in desperation to milk him dry. 

He collapses onto his forearms above you, his breath hot and uneven against your skin as you both come down, the room heavy with the sound of your ragged breathing.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Breathe.”

The affection and tenderness soothe something deep within you, and for a moment, all you can do is bask in the connection and the depth of something you can’t name. Until it shifts. 

The haze begins to clear, reality creeps back in.

His laugh is low and dangerous, a sound of pure victory. 

Javier shifts beside you, his hand sliding possessively over your hip, but your mind is already racing.

Panic bubbles up in your chest as you sit up, reaching for your clothes. Javier watches you with a satisfied smirk, clearly unbothered by your sudden urgency.

“You don’t want to stay?” he teases, his voice lazy and smug.

You shoot him a sharp look, your hands trembling as you smooth down your dress. “You’re insufferable,” you mutter, but he sees through you.

“Maybe,” he says, propping himself up on one elbow, his gaze raking over you with dark amusement. “But you’ll still think about me when you see him.”

His words hit like a gut punch, and you bite your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. You wonder if you’ll ever be able to stop thinking about him. 

“See you Monday?” he says, his tone deceptively casual, but the smirk on his face is anything but.

Your stomach flips at the reminder. Monday. At work. Where Javier works. Where your boyfriend works.

General tags in case y'all want some javi smut too 💗:

@lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre

@adoreyouusugar @swankyorange

@itwasntimethatdidit40 @ivoryandflame @magneticecstasy

@indiegirlunited @syd-djarin @harriedandharassed

@bbyanarchist @94namkooksworld

[anomalouscutie]

ughhh. ive got to get a girlfriend so i stop thinking about guys its so so bad

[maskedbyghost]

Heyyy, it's me again, but this time we're talking situationship!Simon—aka the biggest fuckboy you'll ever meet. Honestly, girl, I have no idea why you're still putting up with him!

you can’t even define what you two have, but one thing’s for sure—he knows how to use his dick, and you're both free to mess around with whoever you want. but of course, you had to fall for him, for that stupid smile he swore only you were special enough to see, for the gentle touch that lingered on your skin during those rare nights when he stayed longer than usual. you fell for the way he made you feel like you were the exception, even though deep down, you knew better.

you fell for how he made you feel like you were everything, even though he’d always leave just as quickly. he knew exactly how to keep you hooked—giving just enough to make you believe in him, but never enough to make it real. you wanted more, but every time he left, you remembered that his promises were as short-lived as his visits. still, you couldn’t stop going back, hoping that maybe this time, he’d actually mean it.

but he never did. you’d have fun for a few hours, but then he’d leave, acting like you didn’t exist around everyone else. he’d flirt with other girls right in front of you, not even bothering to hide it when he left with them, almost like he wanted you to see.

and every time, it hurt a little more, but you couldn’t bring yourself to end it. you told yourself you didn’t care, that it was just fun, but deep down, you wanted to be the one he stayed with. yet, no matter how much it hurt to watch him with someone else, the moment he came back, all that anger faded, and you let him in again, caught in the hope that maybe someday he’d truly see you as more than just a temporary fix.

one night, you tried to have a serious conversation with him, hoping that if you laid out your feelings, he might finally understand. but he dismissed your emotions with a shrug, listing reasons why he didn’t want a relationship: he was too focused on his career, he wasn’t ready for commitment, and he just didn’t want to deal with the complications. simon insisted that keeping things as they were was the best option for both of you.

afterward, as you lay together, a clear realization hit you. even though you were physically close, you couldn’t ignore the emptiness you felt. that night you made a silent promise to yourself: this would be the last time you let him in, and the last time you let yourself be trapped in this cycle.

and, being the dumb man he was, simon only came to realize what he had lost after you were gone. a few weeks after your last conversation, he saw you a few times out with other guys, laughing and flirting as if you were moving on. it hit him hard—a painful mix of jealousy and regret. he realized that he missed you, but at the same time, he knew he had no right to these feelings. not after treating you the way he did.  

he managed to keep his calm for a few more days, but the weight of his regret grew unbearable. finally, he snapped and called you into his office late one night, claiming he needed to discuss the upcoming mission with you.

as soon as you walked in, simon felt his heart tighten in his chest. seeing your face calm, confident, like you had already moved on, stirred something deeper than he expected. there was no trace of the vulnerability you used to show around him, no lingering affection. he realized, in that moment, just how much he had pushed you away. regret surged through him, sharper than he imagined, and he knew this conversation wouldn’t be easy.

after talking about unimportant stuff for a few minutes, simon took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice. “i know i messed up, and i’m sorry for how i treated you. i’ve been thinking a lot about what happened, and i realize now how much i regret it. i was wrong to push you away.”

you looked at him, your expression guarded. “it’s a little too late for apologies, simon, don't you think? you had plenty of chances to get it right, and now you’re just trying to fix things because you see me with someone else.”

he tried to reach out, his voice softening. “i know it’s not enough, but i want to make things right. i can’t stop thinking about what we had.”

you shook your head, stepping back. “you had your chance, and you threw it away. i’m not going to be your second choice or your backup plan.”

"y/n-"

"no, simon!" you sighed, closing your eyes briefly to gather your thoughts. when you spoke again, your voice was steady, "you know, some people never fade from memory. they leave a mark that lingers just beneath the surface, no matter how hard you try to move on. but to be honest, i’m not in the mood for any more humiliation or heartbreak. so, this is my final goodbye to you."

you could sense that he wanted to say something, but you couldn’t let him speak before you had your say. “go ahead and fill your life with new faces, as if i were nothing but a distant memory. enjoy your freedom and let others wear you out as they please. i’m done being part of that. keep moving forward, and if you ever try to reach out, know that i’ll let your calls go unanswered. for now, i’m celebrating the end of our chapter.”

even as he heard you declare the end, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he still wanted you in his life. he was stuck between guilt and the lingering hope that maybe he could still fix things. despite your rejection, part of him struggled to accept that he had truly lost you, and he felt powerless to change the situation or let you go.

simon’s face twisted with a mix of desperation and anger. “you think you can just walk away and erase everything we had? you think you can move on and leave me behind like I’m nothing?” he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but his voice was filled with raw intensity. “don’t fool yourself, i still want you, and i won’t just let you go. you’re mine, whether you like it or not. i know i’ve made mistakes, but i’m not done fighting for what we had. if you think you can find someone better, go ahead. but know this: i’ll keep groveling and doing whatever it takes until you take me back. i’m not going anywhere, and i’ll make sure you remember what we had.” he took a step back, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, and ran a hand through his disheveled hair.

you just smirked, turning on your heel to leave. as you reached the door, you glanced back over your shoulder with a cold, confident look. “i can’t wait to see you on your knees,” you said, your voice sharp. then, you walked out, leaving him alone with his mess.

game on.

(I WANT HIM TO GROVEL FOR MONTHSSSS)

----------------------------------------------------------

@daydreamerwoah

[sashaforthewin]

Multi-chapter fic on Ao3

Steve had been enjoying a nice relaxing lounge by the pool despite it being night. He had his hearing aid off and his fruity drink and a romance novel Robin had let him borrow. He was determined to have a good time despite the circumstances. 

Someone tapped his foot, scaring the crap out of Steve and making him drop his book and nearly knock over his drink. 

It was a fellow cruise passenger and he was saying something. Steve turned his hearing aid back on.

“Sorry, what?”

“I asked why you were out here instead of at the concert,” repeated the man with a smile.

“Oh, um. I’m not actually a fan of metal music. It gives me headaches if I listen to more than one or two songs in a row,” Steve admitted sheepishly.

This stranger was still clearly a metal head, but he looked significantly less scary than most of the ones he had seen so far that day. Everyone Steve met had been nice, but Steve hadn’t felt comfortable telling anyone he wasn’t a fan until now. Maybe because it was just the two of them out here and he was smiling so cutely. 

“Not a metal fan? Well damn, not to critique your life choices, but I think maybe going on a metal cruise wasn’t an ideal choice for you? I’m Eddie, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Steve.”

There were plenty of deck lounges around, all empty, but Eddie sat down on Steve’s right next to his legs. 

“Steve. So Steve, why are you on a metal cruise when you don’t like metal? These tickets were not exactly cheap and there’s no way you missed the theme, it was pretty clearly advertised,” Eddie asked teasingly.

Steve looked Eddie over, noting that he was actually pretty cute. Pretty eyes, nice full lips, dimples, and he was that type of lanky Steve was drawn to. He had good skin and his hair had some volume and texture to it, Steve could work with that. Bit of a fixer-upper, but a better starting point than most of the men that had flirted with him since his last failed relationship. He also had the vibe, so Steve decided this guy would be fine to open up to. 

“Well, Eddie, I bought this ticket for my dear friend Dustin for his birthday, but then the little shit went and outed me to my parents. Accidentally, of course, and he feels like shit about it. But still, that got me kicked out of my home so maybe I’m being petty but I decided he shouldn’t get to go on this cruise after all. I forgive him, it really was an accident, but still, gotta teach him a lesson.” Steve shrugged. “And I would’ve gotten the ticket refunded but the money would’ve gone back to my parents and they clearly don’t deserve to get anything back from me. So, instead of trying to figure out how to sell a ticket to a very niche interest cruise, I figured I deserved to just come and treat myself for four days before I have to go back to living in my ex-girlfriend’s basement. It’s actually pretty nice to have the ship to myself while all you guys are in there shaking your heads to loud music.” Steve gestured to the pool and the drink.

“Ex- girl friend’s basement?” Eddie asked.

“Shut up, I’m bi.” Steve smacked Eddie on the arm with his book. 

Eddie grabbed the book and looked at it as he replied, “Hey, just checking to make sure I’m not barking up the wrong tree.”

“Oh? Is that what you’re doing, barking up my tree?” Steve said, playfully.

“If you’ll let me,” Eddie flirted back.

“So how come you’re not in the show right now?” Steve asked, gently stealing his book back from Eddie’s grasp.

“Oh, I’m touring with those guys right now, I have heard them play the same set like fifteen times already. I’d much rather be out here getting to chat with you. You know you’re beautiful, right? How come you don’t live with your boyfriend? Or girlfriend?” Eddie asked, quite obvious in his fishing for information.

“I’m single and yes, I do know I’m beautiful, but I still like hearing it. Are you like a roadie or something?”

“Actually,” Eddie said, “I’m the lead guitarist in the headlining band. We play tomorrow night. Can I buy you another drink? Maybe dinner?”

“The, uh, the bill goes to our cabins,” Steve answered, too shocked that an apparently famous musician was asking him out to respond appropriately.

“Baby, I’ll put your entire tab on my cabin if you’ll let me. You are the most beautiful, and dare I say cleanest man on this entire boat. Metal heads are great, but they aren’t really my type.”

Steve takes a sip of his cold drink just to make sure he’s not fallen asleep and dreaming. The ocean is calm and the moon is full and he is most definitely awake.

“And what is your type?” Steve asked. 

“Handsome men with soft hands who will let me pamper them,” Eddie said, picking up Steve’s hand and feeling his lack of calluses. He placed a kiss onto each finger tip. “These hands aren’t meant for labor, let me spoil you rotten.”

Well, Steve reasoned, even if this ended up being just a weekend fling, it was going to be worth the price of admission.

[roosterforme]

This blurb is based on an anonymous request for a birthday treat for @phoenix-rising-starbird-one Happy birthday, Vonny!

Designated Driver (Bob Floyd x Reader)

contains fluff, mentions of drinking, and Bob shooting his shot

The best thing about the Hard Deck was that Bob could walk there from his place. It gave him a few minutes to himself on the way there and on the way home to clear his head. He loved his friends, he really did, but they could be a handful when they had too much to drink. They liked to get a little rowdy, while he rarely drank alcohol at all. At least they never assumed he would drive them home, and they usually just called for an Uber instead while he walked back along the peaceful streets alone.

But the Hard Deck was closed for an extended refurbishment, and everyone insisted on trying a new bar on the other side of Coronado on Friday night. Bob knew what that meant. One look at his new SUV with the extra row of seats, and they would all be bugging him to drive them home. In fact, it started while he was still at work on Friday afternoon.

"Hey, Baby on Board," Jake called when Bob tried to sneak out of the locker room unnoticed. "You mind giving me a ride to and from the bar tonight?"

"Oh!" Javy chimed in. "Me too."

"I'm like two streets away from Javy," Bradley interjected. "Mind getting me on the way?"

Bob sighed but ultimately shook his head. "No, I don't mind. I'll pick you all up."

Three hours later, he was pulling away from the curb in front of Mickey's apartment with all of his friends in tow. Nat was in the front seat navigating for him while Reuben selected which song he wanted for the ten minute drive, and Bob was already looking forward to dropping them all back off and going home later.

The bar left a lot to be desired, especially compared to the Hard Deck, and he immediately felt out of place. He was about to go sit outside when Nat rubbed his arm and said, "Why don't you go grab that empty bar stool? Next to the cute girl?"

He turned to look where his friend was pointing, and a second later, his mouth was hanging open. "She's beautiful," he whispered, and soon his friend was guiding him in your direction where you were perched on a bar stool, reading a book.

"She looks exactly like your type," Nat mused. "She's drinking a bottle of Coke and reading a novel at a bar."

Bob was busy taking in every inch of your pretty face, and the closer he got, the faster his heart pounded. Without another word, Nat shoved him so he bumped into the empty stool next to yours, and you looked up in surprise.

"Sorry," he muttered as his friend vanished. "I didn't mean to startle you."

He was sure his face was bright red, flushed with embarrassment as you saved your spot with your bookmark and smiled at him. "It's okay."

Bob cleared his throat. "Would you mind if I sit here?"

Your smile grew as you shook your head. "Not at all. Maybe if my friends see me talking to you, they'll get off my back about being antisocial. It's not my fault I prefer books over playing darts."

As he slid into the seat next to yours, he said, "Books are way better than darts. I read that one last month."

"Really?" you asked with excitement as he pointed to the spine. "I love this author."

"Me too," he replied, still in awe over you. Then he decided he really had nothing to lose. "If I would have known the most beautiful woman at the bar was bringing a book with her tonight, I'd have brought one, too."

You made a cute little noise ducked your head away from him, and he hoped he hadn't embarrassed you too much. A few seconds later, you looked up at him with a grin and said, "Well, since you didn't, maybe we can just talk instead?"

"I would love that," Bob promised. "Will you let me buy you another drink?"

"Okay, but just a Coke. I'm the designated driver tonight, and I'm not much of a drinker anyway."

Bob laughed as he waved down the bartender and said, "Two Cokes for the designated drivers, please."

"You, too?" you asked him, your smile bright again.

When he nodded in response, he held out his right hand. "I'm Bob, by the way."

Your fingers glided along his, and you told him your name as you shook his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Bob. I must admit, the last thing I anticipated was meeting a man with good taste in books tonight."

He laughed softly as the bartender dropped off two cold bottles of Coke. "I would have never guessed that the coolest woman here would let me buy her a drink."

You looked very pleased with yourself, and a beat later, you held your hand out again. "Why don't you just go ahead and give me your phone so I can save my number for you?" Bob scrambled to pull it out of his pocket as you added, "Maybe next time we can ditch our friends and the bar and talk about books somewhere quieter?"

"Absolutely," he said with a smile as you saved the number he already couldn't wait to text later.

----------------

Happy birthday, Vonny! I hope you enjoyed the actual story of how my parents met lol

[wanders-in-wonderland]

Ex-Boyfriend

I broke up with him last week. We’d only been dating a few months but the red flags were there. He always wanted to make decisions for me and I’d always felt like he didn’t see me as his equal. He was always treating me like a helpless little girl, being patronizing and condescending at times. The last straw came when he insisted that I quit my job and move in with him so that he could “take care of me properly.”

He took the breakup surprisingly well. No angry outbursts or attempts to convince me to stay. I’d assumed that we would never see each other again and we’d each move on with our lives. I was very wrong.

It was Tuesday night and I’d ordered takeout after a longer-than-usual workday. So when my doorbell rang, I didn’t bother to check the peephole before I excitedly flung it open, expecting to see my dinner. Instead, it was him.

Before I could even register what was going on, he shoved me back and slipped into my apartment, slamming the door behind him and locking it. “What the fuck? What are you doing here?” I’m immediately angry and annoyed, I thought we were going to be mature adults and move on with our lives.

“Shut the fuck up bitch,” he snarls out, his voice deeper and angrier than I’d ever heard it before. It stuns me and a small tendril of fear begins to take root inside of me. He’d never hurt me before, and I’d never been scared of him. Sure, he was overbearing and demanding, but never in a violent way.

But now, the look on his face and his tone suggested otherwise. “Why are you here?” I whisper softly, fear and apprehension taking over my previous anger. He laughs with derision, “I’m here to take back what I own.” His words are delivered with so much finality that I’m thrown. What does that even mean? Before I can fully think about it, he strikes.

His hand comes up and wraps around my throat, tightening and pushing me against the wall. His body presses against me and I cry out from the force of my body hitting the wall. “Stop! Please!” I can hear the terror in my own voice now and the severity of my situation hits me fully. He’s so much bigger than me, stronger, faster, and I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he could seriously hurt me if he wanted to.

“I said, shut the fuck up, you stupid bitch,” he growls before his lips meet mine in a bruising, punishing kiss. I whimper into his mouth, tasting iron on my own lips as he pushes against me harshly. The hand around my throat tightens even further, restricting my airway and making me lightheaded. His other hand goes between my legs and he rips at my shorts and underwear.

He’d never treated me like this before. Back when we were dating, he was always gentle, sweet, and attentive during sex. But right now, he was anything but soft. His fingers pushed against my core, harshly rubbing my clit, making me whine into his mouth. He pulls his fingers away briefly and breaks away from the kiss to shove his fingers into my mouth.

I gag around them, feeling tears start to gather in my eyes. “You little bitch thought you could just walk away from me? I’m going to make you regret that,” he growls into my ear and pulls his fingers from my mouth.

“Please, no, stop! I don’t want this, please just leave me alone. We broke up, you never have to see my again,” I’m sobbing now, realizing how trapped I am as his intentions become more clear. He scoffs, “Oh no, you are never going to leave me again.”

I cry harder at his words. His fingers, wet with my saliva, come back to my pussy and without any preparation, he thrusts two into my cunt. I wail as I feel him violate me. He starts to pump his fingers, curling them just right to hit that spot inside of me that makes me see stars. He knows my body better than myself and he knows exactly how to touch me to make me fall apart. I can feel my pussy gushing around him, drenching his hand despite my mind knowing that I don’t want this.

“Please, please, please!” I’m begging him, pleas falling from my lips like a mantra, hoping that he would stop and just leave. But he doesn’t. His thumb presses down on my clit with just the right amount of pressure and I can feel myself getting closer and closer to an orgasm.

“Look at you, falling apart like this on my fingers. Your body knows who you belong to, little whore,” he says, his voice rough in my ear. I’m delirious, overwhelmed with pleasure and torn between my body and mind as he works me to my climax. I arch into him and scream as I shatter into an orgasm that leaves me reeling. My pussy clenches around his fingers, squirting my release all over his hand and wrist. It’s humiliating how fast I came apart for him.

His fingers keep playing with my pussy, working me through my orgasm as I pant and moan softly. I collapse against him, feeling broken and defeated. Suddenly, I feel a pinch on my arm and I turn my head to see a syringe sticking out of me. He smiles darkly at me as he pulls it away, and I feel the effects immediately as my eyes start to drift shut and my body falls into unconsciousness.

—

I wake up and immediately recognize my surroundings. I’m in his bedroom, my arms and legs tied to his bedposts as I lay on my back, completely naked. Fear and worry floods my mind when I realize that I’m trapped here with no way out.

“Welcome home, honey,” he says from a corner of the room. My vision darts to him and I see him sitting in his armchair, drinking a glass of his favorite bourbon. “Why am I here? What do you want?” I demand, hoping to infuse anger into my voice but it sounds weak, scared, and helpless even to my own ears.

He smiles. “I think you know what I want. I want you back. And I’m going to have you no matter what it takes.”

“You’re delusional,” I whisper, staring at him. “You raped me. I’m never going to get back together with you.” His smile falls from his face and his eyes harden.

“I wouldn’t call it rape, sweetheart. Not when you squirted all over my fingers. I think you came harder than you ever have, and your body certainly knows who it belongs to,” he says, his vulgar words making me blush. My cheeks burn even more because I know he’s right. He made me fall apart on his fingers despite how much I hated it, and he’s the only person who’s ever been able to control my body so perfectly.

He sets his drink down and pushes up from his chair, stalking towards me. I whimper and cringe away from him as much as I can but he tied me too tightly for me to have any wiggle room. He runs his fingers up my leg, toying with me.

“You see, I think you’ve forgotten that I own you. And I think it’s up to me to remind you. And if you behave like a good girl, I’ll even overlook the fact that you tried to leave me,” he murmurs softly as his fingers brush gently across my pussy. I whimper when he flicks my clit softly, my body jerking against the ropes in response.

“I was so patient with you all throughout our relationship. I gave you time to adjust, even let you keep your little job for a few months. But you just had to go and ruin it all. Now, we have to do things the hard way,” he says as his fingers keep rubbing at my clit.

I can feel my pussy starting to drip again, and I want nothing more than for him to just stop and leave me alone. I hate that my body responds so well to him, and I hate that he knows that. I bite my lip, trying to hold back moans as he works my body closer and closer to another orgasm. My eyes flutter shut as I feel the sensation building, and I want to sob knowing that he can bend my body to his will.

I’m so close now, his fingers finding just the right places to stroke and flick. Small whimpers and whines are escaping my throat as I chase my orgasm. I can feel myself about to erupt when suddenly, he pulls his fingers away. I let out a short wail when my orgasm comes to an abrupt stop, my body clenching and throbbing at the loss of stimulation. My eyes fly open and meet his and I’m sickened to see the satisfaction on his face.

His voice is laced with faux sympathy, “Aw honey, did you want to cum?” I shake my head stubbornly as I pant, trying to get myself back under control. He smiles as he sits down on the bed next to me.

“You see, I spent a long time thinking about how I wanted to break you. I thought about just tying you to a fucking machine and vibrator and letting it completely wreck you. But that’s less fun. I’d much rather take you apart by myself. Maybe next time, I’ll leave you on the machine for a few hours and see how it ruins you. This time though, I want you to know that I can break you myself, with no extra help. So you know that I own you, completely.” He smile is dark and full of promises. Fear is overwhelming me, not just a fear of him, but also fear in knowing that he is absolutely correct.

I stare at him with tears in my eyes, “Please, please don’t do this. I’m sorry I broke up with you but I don’t want this. Please just let me go.” Part of me knows that begging is useless but I can’t help it. I have to try. He tsks at me and I watch as he undresses, showing off his gorgeous body that always made me drool a little.

He comes onto the bed and slots himself in between my legs, looking up at me from my pussy. “By the end of tonight, you’ll be begging me to take you back,” he murmurs, redirecting his gaze to my dripping pussy.

Without another word, he dives into my cunt. He’d always been so good at eating me out and that hasn’t changed at all. His tongue paints long strokes over my pussy as he laps up my wetness. He pays special attention to my clit, expertly playing with it and drawing out gasps, whimpers, and moans from my mouth, despite my best efforts to muffle them. Before long, I can feel my orgasm building. The stimulation is so good against my clit and pussy and I want to beg him to make me cum but I’m too stubborn to let those words come out of my mouth. I’m so close and I can feel myself about to fall off the edge when suddenly, he pulls away. My hips arch upwards embarrassingly, trying to chase the pleasure he’s ripping away from me and I can’t help but let out a sob.

“Poor honey, were you about to cum again?” His voice is tinged with condescension and I want to be angry but all I feel is desperation. “If you beg, I’ll let you cum,” he says, smirking.

I want to scream and beg but I’m too stubborn to give in so all I do is glare at him. He laughs as he presses soft kisses along my thighs and stomach, waiting for my orgasm to fade before beginning again. He brings me to the brink using just his mouth another five more times, each edge chipping away at my resistance. My pussy drools onto the bed under me as I’m subjected to his whims.

I’m sobbing and writhing after another edge and I finally can’t take anymore. “Please,” I whisper, my voice cracking from need and desperation. “Please, let me cum.”

He looks up at me and smiles. “Breaking so soon, honey?” I want to cry and I wish I could be stronger but I’m so fucking desperate. “Please, I’m sorry I broke up with you, it was a mistake,” I murmur, not able to meet his eyes.

The satisfaction on his face makes me feel sick. I hate that he’s able to turn my body against me and I hate that I’m too weak to resist. But his next words make me feel even worse.

“I don’t think you’re actually sorry yet. I think you’re just saying that so I’ll make you cum, honey. And that’s not good enough.” His last words punctuated with his fingers driving into my pussy and I arch my back and wail. It feels so good and I’m so close that I know I’d cum if he just kept going. But he doesn’t. He pulls his fingers out and slides them into his mouth, licking up my wetness from them.

He waits for me to calm down before he dives back in, driving me insane with his mouth and bringing me to the edge over and over again. I lose track of how many orgasms he’s withheld from me but before long, I’m begging with every breath. I’m almost incoherent with need, babbling out pleas to him, trying to say anything and everything that would convince him to let me cum. I’m apologizing over and over again for leaving him, pleading with him to take me back as I writhe and shake under his mouth.

Some amount of time later, he pushes himself up from between my legs and leans over me. His face is inches from mine as his eyes take in my face, pink from desire and need, my eyes watery with tears. His lips meet mine in a soft, gentle kiss and I can taste myself as I melt into it. His hands come up to cup my face gently and I moan softly into his mouth, feeling his warm body cover mine, pressing me into the bed. He’d always made me feel safe, and now is no different. My brain is fuzzy but I’m trying to press myself even closer to him, straining against the ropes toward him.

“Please, please, baby, take me back. I want to be yours again, please, I love you, I’m so sorry,” I’m babbling as soon as his lips leave mine, desperate to convince him to take me back. He smiles tenderly at me, “Of course, honey. I know you were just a little misguided earlier.” The patronizing tone gives me pause for a second, registering in my brain as something that used to annoy me, but the notion fades as quickly as it came.

I arch up toward him, pressing myself into him, trying to rock my pussy against him. “Please, please, please,” I’m whimpering but I’m not sure what I’m begging for, whether it’s to cum or for him to take me back. His fingers trail down to my pussy and he slides two of them inside of me. I gasp and moan deeply, feeling him scissor his fingers and then curl them into my g-spot as his thumb finds my clit. Fuck, it feels so good and I love it so much. I love him so much.

I feel myself barreling toward an orgasm again, and I’m begging again, begging for him to keep going, to let me cum, promising him that I’ll be good, I’ll be the perfect girlfriend, I’ll do whatever he wants if he would just let me cum.

He pulls his fingers away and I let out a gut-wrenching sob. “Aw honey, don’t cry, I have something even better than my fingers for you,” he says, smirking at me. I feel the head of his cock nudge my pussy and I moan and start to beg again.

“Please, please, please give me your cock. Please, I want your cock so much, please!” I’m rocking my hips, trying to entice him to just thrust into me. He rubs the head of his cock along my clit gently and I’m so sensitive that I feel like I could cum from that alone. Then, without warning, he slams his cock home into me.

A scream tears out of my throat as I cum immediately around him. All of the orgasms he’d withheld from me seemed to slam into me all at once and I feel my pussy clench down around him and squirt my release out. He groans in my ear, and I feel a part of me preen in satisfaction knowing that my pussy is making him feel good too. He starts to thrust hard and fast inside of me and I scream as my orgasm seems to continue with no end.

I’m delirious, cockdrunk, moaning and whimpering from the pleasure as he fucks me into the mattress. I wish my arms and legs were untied so that I could wrap around him and hold on, never letting go. He’s relentless as he sets a brutal pace, fucking me so hard that I see stars. The stimulation is overwhelming and I’m sobbing as he takes what he wants from me. I feel his thrusts start to falter and I know he’s close. I whine against him, wanting him to cum inside of me.

“Please, ah, please cum inside of me! Please make me yours!” I want his cum to paint my insides, I want him to claim me inside and out. He moans deep in my ear at my words and with one final, deep thrust, he buries himself inside of me and cums. I feel his cum spray my insides and I cum again, my pussy milking him.

He collapses on top of me, and I love the feeling of his body on top of mine, pressing me deep into the bed. I look up at him through bleary eyes as he leans in to kiss me softly.

“Are you going to be mine forever now?” He whispers against my lips, his eyes gleaming of victory. I smile up at him, content and satisfied, “Forever and always.” I don’t know why I’d ever thought to break up with him in the first place.

[yukkisagi]

"i could treat her way better than you!"

in which some boy tries to confess to you, his girlfriend ft. alhaitham & wanderer (there's clear favoritism here) -fluff, not proofread

ALHAITHAM

no matter how many books this man has opened, he himself has always been a closed one. he never lets anyone know his true feelings or thoughts, so much so that people wonder if he even has them. he's cold, unsympathetic, withdrawn, any red flag adjective that is in the dictionary.

so how on earth is someone romantically linked to the acting grand sage? because of this, there are many onlookers who always want some sort of exclusive sneak peek into you guy's relationship.

some believe you've blackmailed him, others think alhaitham is conducting a psychological study on romance, you personally believe it's because no one else would be able to withstand his snarky remarks and he's aware of it.

these hypotheses are what leads you here, standing in front of one of your random classmates as he tries his best to hide his embarrassment behind his brazen grin.

"i would treat you right," he proudly announces, a crowd slowly starting to gather.

you can hear whispers surrounding you people are starting to stare down at the both of you from the upstairs railing.

"wow the acting grand sage isn't paying enough attention to her."

"he probably would be way more loving"

"honestly, would alhaitham even care?"

that last one couldn't possibly be the farthest from the truth.

alhaitham, even if he never admitted it, was stuck to you like those annoying tiny stickers that are just randomly on fruit. you just find him on you without even realizing it.

"let me take you on one date! that's it! and then you can decide if you want me or him!" the boy take your silence as invitation to continue his case. "i promise you'll have a fun time."

and before you can even answer him, kaveh and alhaitham finally enter the court, their bodies just barely peeking between the gaps of the crowd.

"heh, alhaitham, your girl is getting confessed to!" kaveh giggles while nudging the latter. "are you just gonna let him have her?"

suddenly the group opens space for the two of them, giving alhaitham more time to investigate his surroundings. his eyes meet yours first, the usual bore and tiredness greeting you. the whispers are now hushed as everyone anticipates his response, but he says absolutely nothing.

"look acting grand sage," the boy starts again, and you find it hard to not roll your eyes. "sure, you're great at your scribing and grand sage-ing, but a girlfriend isn't a job, its a duty that i definitely could fulfill better than you."

kaveh is now roaring with laughter, a stark contrast from alhaitham's unchanging face. you're now anticipating his response now, wondering if he would finally publicly claim you as his and only his or if he would just not entertain the conversation and leave you to deal with it, like always.

"look, just do whatever you want. i'd prefer to not waste my time and energy entertaining whatever this is." exactly what you anticipated, you can't help but smirk at your perfect prediction.

the silence was loud, almost overbearing as you watch some drop their jaws at his audacity. it even takes the boy aback, shocked that he would so easily give you away.

"alhaitham!" kaveh starts scolding, "what is wrong with you? are you crazy? do you eve-"

"i meant," alhaitham interrupts after clearing his throat. you can see the annoyance start settling in and patience running thin. "you can try, but i can easily conclude that your efforts will remain fruitless."

"excuse me?" the boy scoffs, a weak attempt at hiding his embarrassment.

"she would never fall for someone as inadequate and desperate as you."

after one more quick glance, flashing you just a glint of his mischievousness, he's off. cape and hair all dramatically swishing to follow his swift footsteps. your feet move before you can even think, instantly trying to catch up to his long strides as everyone watches your lovestruck eyes only follow him.

as everyone, including kaveh, watches you two disappear around the corner in shock, alhaitham can't help but roll his eyes as he feels you linking his arms with his. he knows damn well he would never let you leave and let someone else see that stupid little grin on your face.

he's arrogant, maybe a little more possessive then he let's on and extremely rude, but was he ever wrong?

WANDERER

scaramouche always loves a good a tussle, even if it was against your wishes. you've seen him physically fight off people twice his size, spit his venomous insults to anyone who would even try to whisper within his hemisphere, but never in your life did you think you would have to watch him bicker with a six year old and specifically, about you.

"y/n is princess and you're garbage!" the short boy exclaims as aggressively as his young voice could allow. "i'm making her my girlfriend!

"oh could you now?" your boyfriend scoffs back. "i'd like to see you try."

"watch me!" he scowls and scurries up to you. he pulls out flowers from behind his back and hands them to you as he announces, "i picked these for you because they are pretty just like you!"

"aw thank you!" you graciously accept the flowers, slightly smirking over at the older boy. "you know, scara has never picked me flowers before."

"ha!" the kid laughs at him, sticking his tongue out. "see? y/n is going to fall in love with me."

scaramouche is visibly upset now, watching you entertain the boy and poke his small unnecessarily adorable button nose. he knows your teasing him and it angers him more.

"well i'll have you know!" scaramouche crosses his arm across his chest, puffing in pride with his chin up refusing to look at the two of you. "y/n likes men who are taller then her."

"just wait for me y/n! i'm already half his height and im still growing, unlike that old man!"

"old? i'm not old! you're the one who's too young for her to begin with!" he looks down at the boy with a menacing glare.

"i'll be the same age as her soon!" the boy stands his ground, the boyish confidence radiating from him

"you don't even know her!" how could you possibly be in love with her!?"

"i do know her! she's a princess!"

you can tell your hot headed boyfriend was starting to run out of comebacks. it's hard to fight a kid's reason and logic and scara was already lacking in patience as is. as much as you love seeing the ever so cold and rude scaramouche all worked up and jealous, you kneel down to the younger one, finally ceasing all agruements.

"i'm sorry kid, i really appreciate the flowers, but you're going to be waiting eons for me." you pat his head, offering a gentle a smile. "don't worry, as long as you give them your hand picked flowers, i promise any girl will fall for you."

"and if you fall girls that don't already have a boyfriend," scara annoyingly butts in.

once the boy leaves, not before exchanging tongue spits at scaremouche one more time, you feel two arms wrap around your waist from behind.

"do you actually like handpicked flowers?" he mumbles into your shoulder, his warm ears just barely brushing against your neck

"yea" you hummed, picking at the sweet petals as you try to suppress your giggles for his sake. "only if they're from this slightly taller, much more angry dude who wears a hat twice his size."

[kooqitas]

— secret kink ★ with: knj + jjk!

#pairings: friend!jjk X boyfriend!knj X reader

#synopsis: you discover your boyfriend's kink

#tags: pwp, sex, rough sex, threesome, cuckold, cockslut, spanking, spit, vaginal sex, degradation, humiliation, orgasm denial, orgasm play, creampie, overstimulation, dacryphilia, oral sex, multiple orgasm

#notes: ok, i need to be honest, this is the most dirty thing i've ever written, but it doesn't deviate much from what's been written here so far… whatever, i hope you like it guys :)

#wc: 3,1k

🌸 . . english isn’t my first language, so be patient :)

“when you gonna told me that you fucked with jungkook?” namjoon, your boyfriend, entered the room while you were still wrapped in a towel after getting out of the shower.

“excuse me?”

“hoseok told me, when we break up a few weeks ago, you and jungkook fucked”

“hoseok is a gossip boy” you mumbled.

“maybe, but when you gonna tell me?”

“when you gonna told me that you fucked with taehyung?” you asked him. 

alright, you and namjoon had a fight last month, it's a bad fight, you broke up for some weeks, you stayed in the apartment but he lived at bts dorm.

but, in those weeks, maybe you two have some... diversion with your friends.

“taehyung and me was a mistake”

“you take jungkook's boyfriend and he took your girlfriend”

“so was it planned?”

“no” snorted. “just happened”

“was good? he ate you well?”

what the fuck was that question? wanting to know whether or not your girlfriend has sex while you were apart is understandable, but what the hell was he asking?

“not better than you”

“anyone fucks you better than me, doll”

you laugh, it's true. you two have a relationship a years ago, of course he knows exactly how and where touch you.

“did he treated you like the whore you are?”

“i don't understand what the point”

“i just wanna know if my girl was fucked good”

“yes, i am! and i know that taehyung too”

silence.

“how many times you cum?”

“really? namjoon, i don't want to fight, i fucked jungkook, you fucked taehyung, it's okay”

“who says that i want to fight?”

you can't understand what the point of this conversation.

“i just wanna know if my baby was treat like the whore he is, if jungkook doing a good job and cum of this pussy”

namjoon laughed, and his laughed sounded like sadism. whos wanna know how your girlfriend was fucked?

unless…

“three years with you, and you never told me that you have cuckold kink”

“im telling u now”

bingo!

the information was a little shocking, right, jungkook and you had always been very close and namjoon never showed a single bit of jealousy, however you always thought it was because of your friendship for years, and the fact that jungkook had a boyfriend.

“so, why don't you call him and ask how he eats me?”

namjoon sit on the sofa, but without any courage to call to your friend.

"what's happening?" you asked when notice the hesitate "are you afraid that your best friend know that you liked that had cum on your girlfriend? are u shammed? ok, i call"

you take the cell and call to jungkook.

“hi, hyung! are u okay?” 

“hey, baby!” you said. “namjoon wanna know how good was fucked me that day”

“oh my god! he’s know? hyung, i’m so sorry, we are so drunk and-”

you laughed.

“i wouldn't apologize if i were you, he's all excited imagining you fucking me. and don't forget that he fucked with your boyfriend, if i were you i'd give as many details as possible…”

on the other end of the line Jungkook was wide-eyed, he always thought that if his friend found out about their night there would be a big fight, but no, there he was in connection with namjoon, who was horny knowing that his girlfriend gave your pussy to another.

jungkook even tried, but he couldn't hold back the smirk that tugged at his lips.

he was still fighting with taehyung, and didn't even intend to make up. of course, jungkook was angry with namjoon because he knew he was also to blame for all this.

so if he wanted to be humiliated, well, he would.

“your girlfriend is a dumb whore, she masturbated in my bathroom, when i opened the door, she was moaning with two fingers inside her, i couldn't control it, i needed to eat her”

namjoon imagines the scene, and his cock wake up

"she moaned so loud in my fingers, god, i wasn't need said too much, she just give her cunt for me at the same time"

you laughed naughty, remembering the scene.

you and jungkook spent a good few minutes talking about how taehyung and namjoon's sex had been, and naturally, with a drink, you were so fucking horny, both of you rubbing your own thigh temptingly to relieve the emotion.

you asked to take a shower, but when you turned on the shower the first thing you did was put your fingers in your wet pussy, you couldn't tell if it was missing namjoon or wanting jungkook, you didn't even think about anything, you just wanted to cum.

it didn't take five minutes for jungkook to enter the bathroom, seeing you with your eyes closed moving your fingers quickly.

he took off his clothes, and sneaked in, hugging you from behind and leaving a kiss on his neck. jungkook was quick to pull your hand and insert his fingers, then brushing his member against your ass, and the pleasant moan you gave only confirmed the consent he knew he had. you didn't hold back in saying that that night he owned you, and that you were desperate for him to open you up with his fat cock.

returning to the present moment, namjoon stroked his own dick while listening to his friend's statement.

“she was so hot, hyung. saying that I owned her, cumming on my fingers, saying that i could do whatever i wanted with her. fuck! i think now i understand why you guys have been together for so long, i would also love to eat that pussy every day.”

jungkook masked silence, namjoon was quiet and this worried jungkook.

“that’s okay, jungkook! he didn’t say anything because was busy touching himself”

so he’s keeped going.

“i took her to bed, hyung. she was so wet even after having cum, i stuck my tongue in her and she moaned even louder, she kept screaming my name for anyone who wanted to hear. my face got all wet, and she got irritated when i didn't let her cum” he laughed. “but i made her cum on my dick, she's a cockslut, she asked me to hit her, to choke her, and every time i cursed her, her pussy squeezed my cock. damn, hyung, now i'm so fucking horny!”

jungkook knew that what he would say next could destroy a friendship of years, it turns out that at the moment his head was clouded by lust and he even thought about friendship.

“hyung, leave me fuck your girlfriend again. so you can watch us and draw your own conclusions”

namjoon took his hand out of his shorts, and you tried to read your boyfriend's face, but you didn't understand anything. was Namjoon nervous? did Jungkook cross the line? was he just excited to hear but not see?

in fact, that was a good question, how far would namjoon's kink go?

whatever, all insecurity fell away when Namjoon moved away from the phone.

“you know my address, and your entry is free at the entrance”

namjoon looked at you and tapped her thigh twice, you immediately understood the message and sent it there, receiving a kiss on the neck and a caress on her breasts.

“'ll lend you to him one more time, but you know that's it, don't you? you are my little toy that i use whenever i want”

you nod, and namjoon opens your mouth spitting into it, you swallow, like the good whore you are.

“he's going to cum in you, but this pussy is mine, okay? and after all, maybe you're tired, but you're mine, and you give your pussy to your owner”

------------------------------------

after some minutes, the doorbell rang, and namjoon opened the door, of course, jungkook was there. namjoon kissed him, like a 'welcome' put his tongue on jungkook's mouth and grabbed his ass.

"you can do anything, since her want, of course" this is the only thing that namjoon said.

so, this is you now.

sitting on the bed, with your legs opened, just underwear, pinching your own nipple.

they both drooled, the visible stain on the lace panties made them both desperate to open your pussy even more.

but now it was jungkook's turn, so namjoon sat on the couch.

jungkook took off his clothes so quickly, and going to the bed, kissing you when you put the legs on his waist, trying feel something.

"are you always so desperate? in my house, now here, why?” hes bite your lips. “i can fuck this hole open now, you are so wet, fuck, look your leaky cunt, my cock going to feel so good in you… but, i think that your boyfriend want to see i’m playing with you first”

jungkook playing with your tits leans down to start sucking on your nipples, include painful bites every now and then making scream his name when his mark you with purple hickies.

so, jungkook take off your panties, putting on your mouth.

“shut the fuck up, dumb! i even started and you moaned like a pathetic slut.”

he groping your clit, your hole dripping and making a mess, you are so embarrassed, and namjoon watches everything.

and he's like.

so much.

he took advantage of the open legs to stick his face there, running his tongue slowly over your folds, giving a light bite to the clitoris that made you scream in pain and then pull jungkook's hair.

“if you touch me one more time, i will ruin you”

you took off yours hands grabbing the sheet when his eat your in a brutal way, you can feel your tongue your lips, your nose, even you chin, every part of jungkook's face on your pussy.

namjoon appreciated that, took off your underwear, releasing your dick, your massive purple dick with precum.

when jungkook bite your clit, you pulled his hair.

and you receive a slap.

“disgusting whore, you can't do what i'm say? i don't need that your hole, i can fuck others, you are not special! so do what i'm say or i’m gonna away!”

without warning, jungkook puts two fingers inside you, take your underwear of ou mouth just for listen your scream due to agressiveness that you are fucked. you tried close your legs, not because you don't wanna it, but because was too much, soo good, but jungkook did not let.

“if you cum now, you it will end with fun, please, don’t be a useless slut”

and he's continuous. you moaning so loud every time his fingers is in and out of you. 

namjoon looking everything with a devocion.

“two fingers are enough to break your tiny cunt? god, can you imagine how will it be with my fat cock?”

so you cum… without permission.

and jungkook hit in your face, squeezing your neck.

“disgusting whore, i told you to not cum”

he pinch your clit.

and you scream.

and he do again, and again, and again.

jungkook grabbed your hair and got you out of bed, on your knees

“you can cum on my mouth?” you asked when he took de underwear.

“in your face, bitches like you deserves this”

you smiled, and jungkook's response was a spit in your face.

“you know, two slaps in my thigh and i stop” you agreed.

he waste no time fucking and shooting their hot precum down your throat.

due to the rudeness, tears started to flow from your eyes, but that would never be a bad thing, you were just making the most of jungkook.

namjoon moaned so loud when u gasp on jungkook dick, and that's when you realized that namjoon was masturbating.

“this is the best you can do? poor namjoon, pathetic mouth”

jungkook pushes your head so that your nose touches his pelvis, and holds you there, until you cough.

“cum on her face, jungkook, dirty this slut!”

jungkook moaned before your cock spit sperm on your face, the cum spills out around the cock in your face, some leaking down onto your tits.

it was divine.

“doggy style, whore, i want to fuck you like my pathetic puppy”

jungkook slapped you, and then another, and another, and another.

your ass burned and so did jungkook's hand, but he would continue hitting until he got tired, after all, at that moment you were his, and he had permission to use you as desired.

your pussy dripped onto the bed. jungkook laughed, and then positioned himself behind you, rubbing his cock against your swollen clit, whereupon he pushed you further onto the bed, so that his chest was touching the mattress and your ass was in the air.

once fully sheathed, the jungkooks cock widens your pussy open, pulls all the way out and slams all the way back in.

jungkook thrust so hard that the shock of his hips hurt, but you like it, namjoon and jungkook too.

namjoon increased the speed of his masturbation, still being careful not to cum, he didn't want to cum like that.

you really want the cock of your boyfriend in you too now, in your mouth, asshole, whatever, you just need both of them fuck you, and you made a mental note for this.

“that shitty pussy of yours can handle anything, right? i bet i can fit my balls inside you too”

jungkook starts brutally rubbing your engorged clit, you throw your head back, drool slipping past in the sheet.

“fleet wide pussy, you can take the cock of your boyfriend here too, maybe we can gonna try this some day”

it was pathetic the way you moaned “yes, please”

he laughed, gripped your hips so hard you’re sure there’ll be bruises, your titties flop brushing on the sheet with each thrust. soo good, so messy.

“who owns you?” jungkook asked.

“n-namjoon!”

namjoon watched everything mesmerized, he had already read reports about cuckolding, he knew it was fun to watch, he just didn't expect it to be so much. he didn't even want to go in there, he just wanted to watch his girlfriend being destroyed by his best friend.

that was enough.

“you're a whore who has an owner but loves cumming on someone else's dick. disgusting bitch.” he continued thrusting without any shame. “tell me what you are”

“a w-whore”

“exactly, a whore that acepts everything since you hole is full. is your owner enjoying watching this? this disgusting show you're putting on?”

“h-hes lik-kes”

“we’ll see”

jungkook pulled himself out of you and by your hair for what must have been the hundredth time that night, you didn't quite understand what he wanted but you just followed him.

you were dragged to the armchair where his boyfriend was, and in a single movement jungkook made his body fall onto namjoon's.

and there you were: holding on to your boyfriend's shoulder while prancing towards another.

he entered again, mercilessly punching his dick into the slut who was his at that moment.

you held Namjoon's shoulder, he felt like his dick could explode because of how horny he was.

jungkook pulled your hair hard again, forcing you to face namjoon.

“say to your boyfriend how much you like this”

jungkook still brutally rubbing your engorged clit, making you lose the conscience with the pleasure.

“namjonnie… s-so go-good”

you cried, lost in your own excitement, you didn't even care how deplorable you looked at the moment.

“good, sweetheart?” namjoon said, taking his hand off his dick and just enjoying his girfriend's body folded over his while jungkook fucked her. “what are you, my dear?”

“a wh-whore, desperate for coc- jungkook i’m gon-gonna cu-”

“cum, whore, but i won’t stop fuck this hole still i’m cum in you’’

“i'll like it more when i see your cum dripping from her pussy. and i'm sure she does too, right, baby? says what you want” your boyfriend said.

“jungkooks cum”

“where do you want? be more specific, princess” namjoon spoke docilely, but the lust in his speech was clear.

“in m-my pus-sy, for you will ea-eat l-ater!

“cum, doll, i want to see you cum for us”

"doll" jungkook laughed. “cum, whore, and enjoy me filling you with cum”

you scream, cumming on jungkook’s cock.

your legs are shaking and if it weren't for jungkook's strength you wouldn't even be able to stand.

but luckily, jungkook was strong, and not only did he hold you back, but he continued fucking you roughly.

“i'm going to fill this pussy so much that it's going to overflow on your boyfriend's cock”

“j-jungkook” you moaned, feeling your cunt fluttering on his dick.

“i'm going to gaping this pussy, when your boyfriend goes to fuck her, it will be completely wide by me”

you couldn't stand anymore, and that's when namjoon got up to help hold you down, while jungkook continued fucking you like crazy.

“behave” your boyfriend told you.

“now watch me fill this hole open” jungkook said before cum.

still with his leg wobbly, jungkook left you, sitting on the couch.

namjoon didn't say anything, he just lifted you on his lap and fitted your pussy onto his dick. tears ran down your face and your mouth didn't even close, moans and more moans were made as you clung to your boyfriend's neck as you were pushed against his thick cock.

“are you what?”

you knew the weight of this question, if you answered something profane, namjoon would continue fucking you without any mercy, but if you said you was just his princess he would go slowly. after all, that was your dynamic, pleasure is good, but safety comes first.

“your whore!”

namjoon didn't respond, he just threw you on the bed, bending your legs leaving you in an almost fetal position.

eh started thrusting again and at that point jungkook's cum squirted onto his member, and damn, that was so exciting.

the large body collided against you and moaned more and more and was driving them both crazy.

you came on your boyfriend’s cock, shaking in a way namjoon had never seen before.

you had reached the peak, it was clear.

so namjoon removed himself from inside you as quickly as possible, respecting your limit, and called his friend.

"come on, jungkook, cum in her one more time"

namjoon arranged his legs, leaving them wide open.

and started masturbating, soon Jungkook joined him.

they masturbated their members quickly, until jets of cum came out and fell towards your pussy, which was already full of cum.

even though you were tired, you took two fingers there, smearing them and then putting them in your mouth.

you were exhausted.

and you have plans for the next time…

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {3}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: You get a glimpse into the future with Charles and Lando as fathers. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fluff WC: 1.5k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four

You collapsed breathless on top of Charles and let your eyes fall shut as the heat inside the SUV soared. Steam fogged the windows and the sounds of your boyfriends panting filled the small space. 

Lando hummed as he sat back on his knees and watched his release, and Charles’, leak out from you. “Missed this pretty mess you make when we fill you up.”

“Putain, oui,” Charles agreed with a deeply satisfied chuckle. “Feels amazing.”

They were absolutely right, it did feel amazing - especially when it had been almost a week since you last had sex. It was almost a record, and not one you wanted to break anytime soon.

“We should head back,” you said despite wanting to stay exactly as you were. “We should also buy something so it actually looks like we went out.”

“Pretty sure your mum knows how much you hate shopping, and do you really want to risk being spotted?”

Lando made a fair point and you climbed off Charles so you could pull your panties back up and push your dress back down. Max’s plane would be tracked to the local airport so soon everyone would know where you were hiding. You would rather savour the peace and quiet before the paparazzi started to haunt you.

Once you got to Austin there would be no place to hide.

Sitting in the backyard of the pub, you watched the sun set over the countryside backdrop with bittersweet happiness. Luka was squealing with joy as Charles tossed him high into the air and Lando was sprawled on the grass with Lio and Mila clambering over him. It was like a little glimpse into the future you would have all too soon, but it still didn’t feel real. 

“What are you doing, hiding in the corner?” Max took a seat beside you on the bench and scanned the groups that had broken off from the crowd. You could smell the gin in his drink and took a sip of your lemonade as you longed for your usual drink. It didn’t help Lando had ordered you Sprite No Sugar, you weren’t even allowed that anymore.

“Just thinking.”

“I tried that once, but it didn’t work out well for me,” he joked, nudging you with his shoulder when he didn’t get a response. “What are you thinking about?”

You sighed and shifted to face him. “Were you scared you were going to mess up Penelope?”

“No,” he scoffed. 

“Right, because you are good at everything,” you nodded solemnly. “Stupid question.”

“No, it’s because I’m not her father, and I’m not trying to be her father because she already has one. So it is not the same.” Max looked to where Lando and Charles had moved onto dancing with the kids. It probably wasn’t quite dancing, but they were all hugging each other and gently swaying to the music. “You three are going to be fine. You’ve got the responsible parent, the fun one and the worrier.”

“I don’t really want to know who you think is who,” you chuckled, feeling a little better. But another thought had plagued you and there was only one person you could admit it to without fear of judgement. “This is going to sound terrible, but I wish she was a boy.”

Max’s brows shot up his face. “Why?”

You toyed with the condensation running down your glass, drawing little pictures as you spoke. “What if she wants to race? It’s in her blood but this industry is tough on girls, Max. I don’t want her going through the same bullshit I had to.”

“You’re worrying about something that is at least 15 years away, zusje. A lot can change in that time. Plus, she will have you, her fathers and a scary uncle who have been there to make sure she gets treated right.”

You looked across at the young man struggling to understand the horse-riding terms Flo was talking about. “Arthur’s not that scary.”

You laughed at the indignant sound Max made. “Okay, you’re right, you’re right. I don’t need to worry about that now. I just need to get through the rest of the season watching someone else race my car.”

“Checo’s contract is up next year, maybe Red Bull will beg you to come back?”

Your laughter caught the attention of your boyfriends and they smiled at the sound before making their way over. “Yeah, that ain’t happening, they can beg all they want - I would rather be seatless.”

Max turned serious. “They saw your data, you know, when you used my sim. It was the best time anyone has pulled from the car. It was impressive as hell.”

“Well if you want personal driving lessons I am happy to assist. I’ll even give you a family discount.”

Max snickered in amusement as the seats opposite the bench were taken. “Now that you are once again unemployed.”

“Don’t let her mother hear you say that,” Lando warned, only half joking. “She’s not unemployed.”

“Yeah,” you placed a hand on your stomach. “I have the best job in the world now as a human incubator. Me and Vick can be ladies of leisure together.”

“She prefers the term influencer,” Max corrected sarcastically.

“What’s the difference?” Charles asked.

“There isn’t any. Now will you come and dance?”

You accepted Lando’s hand and followed him to the outdoor lights that had been turned on.

“Nutty!” Mila called as she ambled towards you with grabby hands. 

“So close, sweetie,” you laughed as you dropped Lando’s hand to pick her up. “Aunty. Aunt-tee.”

“Nutty is kind of accurate,” Max teased as he walked past to where Kelly was talking with Vicky. He did pause for a second as he watched you spin around with Mila and blow a raspberry onto her neck making the toddler giggle. “Zusje, you’re gonna be fine.” 

You looked up over the top of her curls that were only a few shades lighter than Lando’s and found sincerity in your brother's eyes. “Thanks, Max.”

A pair of arms encircled you and Charles’ chin came to rest on your shoulder. “My dance partner has been stolen.”

Lando spun past with Penelope in his arms and you kissed Charles’ cheek. “Mila, look at Dodo, he thinks he’s a better dancer than us.”

She narrowed her eyes at her uncle dancing with the four year old and her brows furrowed before she squirmed to be put down. “Oops, I think someone is a little jealous,” Charles chuckled, pulling you into his arms while you watched with amusement as she made Lando pick her up too. “Should we save him?”

“Nah, he’ll need to learn how to deal with two females soon enough.” You placed your head on Charles’ shoulder and followed his lead, swaying gently to the music that probably demanded more energy.

“You seem happier,” he commented softly.

“It’s amazing what a little sex in a secluded forest can do for the soul.”

Charles laughed and kissed your forehead, his smile etched on your skin. “Chérie, what we did could hardly be called ‘little’ but even afterwards you still weren’t…I don’t know what the word is…you seem more like yourself.”

You smiled a little as he stumbled over the words. “I’m getting there.”

“I know you will.” He gave up the pretence of dancing and just held you as Lando extracted himself from the girls and they ran off to their mothers before making his way to join you. “We will make sure of it.”

Lando’s warm body pressed against your back and his arms wrapped around you to hold Charles’ hips. “So I was thinking of names…Tulip.”

“Um, no.”

“Hear me out, it’s kind if Dutch and it’s a flower which is pretty cool-”

“Non, mon cher, keep thinking.”

“Daisy?”

You shook your head and he groaned as he was shut down again. “Daphne?”

It was your turn to groan. “No more Bridgerton for you.”

“Clover?”

You paused and his grin widened. “I’m not opposed to that one, but keep brainstorming.”

“How about Juniper?”

“Daddy, where does my name come from?” you asked in a higher pitched voice as you wrinkled your nose.”Well mummy drank lots and lots of Gin one night and that is how you were made.”

“Oh, right,” Lando laughed awkwardly. “I forgot it’s in Gin.”

“It is a good thing we have time,” Charles hummed, holding you both tighter. “There’s no rush finding the perfect name.”

Lando conceded for the moment and fell silent, and you felt content to stay cocooned until your stomach rumbled louder than the music. Your warmth disappeared as they stepped away laughing. “Come on, love. Dinner should be ready.”

Click here for the next part.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

this is all your fault @sunsetcougar

in a world where vaggie gets adopted by the little cannibal kid she saved, and then by Rosie, and slips out of cannibal town each night for food that isn't too humane for her tastes-

imagine this version of chaggie meeting at a takeout window in hell

one long, awkward moment of trying not to look at each other...

Charlie: “So! You-"

Vaggie: "Hey."

Charlie: "-hello! Oh sorry, I didn't mean to cut you off-"

Vaggie: "No that was me. You're fine. (why is she in a SUIT) Go on."

Charlie: "Ok. What, uh- (panics in oh no she’s cute and talking to me) (remembers she’s staying in cannibal town) (OH PERFECT A CONVERSATION STARTER!!) -what kind of people do you like?”

Vaggie: “...pardon?”

Charlie: “Oh it's just, I've seen you around and, is that why you’re out on the town a lot? Shopping um, around? (for people to eat)”

Vaggie: “Not really? I’m kinda still.. torn up over my last big life commitment, (literally) so I’m exactly not looking to date anyone right off the bat.”

Charlie: “To date- TO DATE- OH! No no no I wasn’t- I meant dinner!”

Vaggie: “With you?”

Charlie: “IN GENERAL! People you like, as in, to eat? Because you're with the cannibals and haha dinner with me that would be like, a date and-”

Vaggie: “Yeah I’m not into that.”

Charlie: “(dying)-right.”

Vaggie: “The eating people thing. Not the dinner with a pretty woman thing.”

Charlie: “… (charlie.exe has stopped working)…Ah.”

Vaggie: “Right.”

Charlie: “…but Cannibal town?”

Vaggie: “I just live there. I- Junior Meat lives there and I’m sticking with him.”

Charlie: “And Mr. Meat is your…?”

Vaggie: “Kid? Kinda?”

Charlie: “Oh!”

Vaggie: “Yeah.”

Charlie: “That's wonderful! How did you two- sorry no never mind, too much, um. Does he like take out too? Or any non-human snacks?”

Vaggie: “Gummy bears. And dino nugets.

Charlie: "He has very good taste."

Vaggie: "He likes biting the heads off ‘em.”

Charlie: “Aww me too!!! Well, playing with them, not the head biting but. And you?”

Vaggie: “I used to put them into battle formations and march them off to war.”

Charlie: “That’s so cute.”

Vaggie: "..."

Charlie: "..."

Vaggie: “You meant what snacks do I like, huh.”

Charlie: “Heheh. Um. Yes! Sorry I’m not. Doing the whole 'have normal conversation with a beautiful girl' thing very good am I?”

Vaggie: “I’d give you five stars. And practice makes perfect.”

Charlie: "And would you...? I mean I wouldn't want to practice on someone who didn't-"

Vaggie: "Be your practice partner? Sure. Sounds fun."

Charlie: “…! I- I know all the best places in hell for inhuman food! Or wait no, for food that isn’t made of people! My treat?”

Vaggie: “My pleasure. (automatically does the little curtsy and hand kiss Rosie’s been badgering her to learn) (panics) I uh, here's my order, I gotta... go tuck in Junior Meat. You know where I’m at?”

Charlie: “(dazed) Hannibal Clown…. C-Cannibal Town!”

Vaggie: “Right. Think I already mentioned it.”

Charlie: “Yes and I saw you with them- so I guessed that you- I can pick you up?”

Vaggie: “Maybe an hour later than this, so Junior's in bed and doesn’t freak out.”

Charlie: “Oh. (droops) You think I’d scare him? I wouldn’t pull out my horns or tail out…”

Vaggie: “It's not you. He’s just kinda jumpy after the… he had a rough extermination day, is all.”

Charlie: “Looked like you did too.”

Vaggie: “What.”

Charlie: “You seem much better now! Not that you didn’t look great then, I mean. I'm sure you always look-”

Vaggie: “You saw- what did you see?”

“Charlie: “I was walking by when the cannibals were helping you. And I think I saw Junior Meat too? He was the one holding your hand?”

Vaggie: “Yeah…?”

Charlie: “I’m, really glad you all found each other. Even if it was a rough day.”

Vaggie: “… they ate part of me in greeting.”

Charlie: “Ugh! They ate-? I mean, aww?”

Vaggie: "Not a normal thing even in hell?"

Charlie: "The definition of normal is... fluid and not very... it wasn't your EYE was it?"

Vaggie: "Eh, wasn't using it anymore anyway."

Charlie: "I guess it counts as. Recycling?"

Vaggie: "Heh."

Charlie: "Sorry."

Vaggie: “No, you're okay. You’re also right though. Maybe it was worth one rough day.”

Charlie: “I’m right?”

Vaggie: “And you’re picking me up tomorrow for dinner.”

Charlie: “!!!! YES! I am! I will, be there, for you. Tomorrow.”

Vaggie: “And…”

Charlie: “And?”

Vaggie: “Didn’t catch a name earlier.”

Charlie: “Oh it’s Charlie! Charlie Morningstar but it’s just Charlie!”

Vaggie: “As in princess?”

Charlie: “Just Charlie.”

Vaggie: “Sweet. (FUCK) See you soon, Charlie.”

Charlie: “….okay….”

Charlie:

Charlie: “Oh my ****ing dad what just happened.”

Charlie, two hour later: "I DIDN'T EVEN ASK HER NAME??"

-At Rosie's Emporium (of vaggie's pain)-

Vaggie: "Junior's finally asleep, so not matter what I tell you, please don't scream."

Rosie: "A very intriguing start! I'm already tickled! Do go on."

Vaggie: “You might need to just kill me.”

Rosie: “I couldn’t possibly! You haven’t even eaten your take out yet~”

Vaggie: “Aunt Rosie help me.”

Rosie: “A girl, hmm?”

Vaggie: “A girl?? She was in a SUIT. She was tall and awkward kept playing with her hair and should've had a puppy dog tail wagging behind her. I called her pretty and said I’d give her five stars. Then I invited myself to dinner with her. And she’s a fucking DEMON.”

Rosie: “We all are down here, darling. Present company excepted of course.”

Vaggie: “HELP. ME.”

Rosie: “Let’s start with the basics, yes? The niceties? What’s the name of this lucky girl?”

Vaggie: “Charlie.”

Rosie: "Lovely! And does she have a last name?"

Vaggie: "It's just Charlie."

Rosie: "How charming, I like her already~"

Vaggie: "But her last name's Morningstar. Don't scream."

Rosie: (SPITS TEA)

Vaggie: “I know."

Rosie: "Oh... my."

Vaggie: "I know I know!"

Rosie: "An abandoned angel and the princess of hell?"

Vaggie: "She didn't act like a princess of hell! She was like, princess of cute and wearing her heart on her sleeve! Princess of so kissable I could just reach up and grab her bowtie and-"

Vaggie: "FUCK I'm so fucked.”

Rosie: "Not yet you aren't. Don't worry darling, auntie Rosie will get you there~"

Vaggie: "That's not the kind of help I need!"

Rosie: "Speaking of need- a new outfit, yes, something with sparkle and shine, on par with a suit but not one whit more! With a skirt you can move in too of course."

Vaggie: "I DONT NEED A SKIRT I NEED TO STOP BEING GAY OVER THE PRINCESS OF HELL"

Rosie: "Perhaps flowery parasol to hide your dear little spear in..."

[bubblegumgothglados]

Scene opens in a sparsely populated bar, two women sit talking, one middle aged the other early twenties maybe late teens

"Wow, fuck you sure have been through a lot despite your age... No you're not talking too much I'm very happy to listen, and its not trauma dumping if I'm asking leading questions. Ohhh excuse me! I'll have another please, and make hers a double, on me, so you were saying about your childhood?"

"But were having such a good time are you sure you have to go?... Your boyfriend always keep such a,,, close eye on you?... Well from what I've heard you treat him far better than he deserves, but anyway if you must go then look at me. What happened to you was fucked up. You didn't deserve any of that and I'm so sorry it happened to you and if you don't mind me saying I'm proud of you for still being here"

"Ohhh goodness are you OK? You almost fell over when you tried to stand up just then... No there's no way i can let you drive... No, end of story, ill tell you what i live just a few blocks from here come back to my place and ill make sure you get home safe OK?"

Cut to them walking home, the elder almost entirely supporting the young girl

Cut to a spacious living room, the pair sit at a dining table eating and drinking more

"Thank you so much darling, home made food is always nicer isn't it sweetheart... Finish that glass and ill refill us both... Yes the taxi is taking a long time isn't it, and you look so sleepy you can barely keep your eyes open are you sure you don't want to stay in my spare bed?"

"That's a good girl one step after another lets get you to bed... Yeah there are a lot of stuffies in here, this used to be my daughters room she's, well i guess she's about your age, she left these here for me to remember her by... Would you like to pick one to cuddle?... Of course ill lay with you as you fall asleep, that's my good girl put your head in my lap and let mom watch over you as you sleep"

"Good morning sleepy head, ohhh big stretch. There's a glass of water and some pain killers on the bedside table... Well i would hope it smells good i have pancakes and bacon cooking... Wow you must have been very drunk last night, that story about being envious of kids in movies is exactly why I'm making this for you... You're a sweet kid, hop up when you're ready... Last night? No nothing happened i promise i was very careful to protect your modesty when i changed you into those adorable pajamas"

[verboselocket38]

Before any Stolas/itz stans come to me saying I am a Blitzø stan, I'm not. I dont like Blitzø but this thought has been in my head for awhile and I gotta bring it out here.

Imagine this...

A society where Imps are seen as the second lowest class next to hell hounds where not many are able to start their own buisness.

Now Blitzø wanted to start his own killing buisness where he needs to get to the human realm. Currently its successful, but its only sucessful when he sleeps with Stolas every month for his grimore which access people in hell to the human realm.

A lot of people have already talked about the power dynamics and coercive relationship the two have so this post is mainly me talking about how Stolas was the one to force Blitzø into the relationship, whether he knew or not.

1. The reason for Blitzø to live

Lets just get this out of the way, the Grimore is the reason why Blitzø needs to run his buisness. The buisness that helps pay for his daughter and him to have a roof over their head, and their employees. Money that helps them pay for food, bills, other necessities for them to LIVE. Imps are one of the lowest classes in society, we see in previous episodes they may work as butlers for the Goetia and a not treated well.

In Full Moon Blitzø was begging for Stolas for him to do better all because he missed a bit for their arrangment. Alot of people think hes pleading because he "actually loves Stolas and wants to do better" when.... No it was more of Blitzø begging to keep the one thing that kept his buissness that he worked so hard to maintain afloat - and this was before Stolas showed him the crystal. Even if thats not what the writers intended thats not how it comes off in the show.

2. "But Blitzø started the arrangement!"

No he didnt. When Stolas took Blitzø to the bedroom when he was caught trying to steal the grimore, he thought Blitzø was going to "ravish him." HE made it sexual in the first place.

Now its been 25 years since these two last saw eachother. In that time things change and these two only interacted once as KIDS. When you are a child your personality and perspective usually changes as you grow older. What I mean by this is that Stolas being a royal, in Blitzø's mind he believes that if Stolas figured out WHY he was here sneaking around his house, there is a good chance Stolas could just kill him.

And before any of you say "But Stolas would NEVER do that 🥺"

How exactly is Blitzø suppose to know???

It's been 25 years since they lady saw each other. Stuff changes. If Blitzø thought Stolas wouldn't kill him if caught, then why didn't he just ask Stolas for the book? I mean if he knew that Stolas would willingly give him the book for the business, then wouldn't this whole arrangement like- never happen in the first place???

In his mind in this situation, Blitzø was panicking. In this situation him being sexual with Stolas was his only priority in his mind to keep himself alive.... And then later he gave Stolas pity sex.

(Which let me just say since this part is what I believe defiently what wasnt going through Blitzø's mind... But if he left with the book not giving Stolas sex, I wouldn't be suprised that Stolas would feel betrayed and then track Blitzø down to take the book back. We know he can track him down in Murder Family and Truth Seekers, so I wouldn't be suprised but yeah I just wanted to point this out.)

3. "But What about Blitzø's Exes?"

People like to bring Up Blitzø's exes to point out how he somehow screwed up in his relationship with Stolas even though it is a separate issue. And something to point out is that Dennis, a character from the Queen Bee episode, was there. He wasn't an ex, he was a fling. I wouldnt be suprised that the amount of people there are just flings. As for Verosika she has every right to hate him after he maxed her credit card, but like.... girl making a party every year about hating Blitzø isnt going to let these people get over him.

In all honesty I think Blitzø having a lot of "Exes" was just meant to make Blitzø look worse than Stolas. This is just something I wanted to get out of the way.

4. If you still think that its Blitzø's fault cuz the relationship started, let me put it in perspective like this...

(This isnt suppose to be a 100% accurate comparison to Stolas and Blitzø but this is just to set an example)

There was this couple named John and Leslie. Now John has been intrested in Leslie in a romantic way and asks her to be in a relationship. She says yes and they date for awhile. Things may or may not start out ok but later down the line Leslie starts being not a good partner. By that I mean she might be emotionally manipulative towards him or making him think that anything Leslie herself doesn't like is immediately JOHN'S fault. Apparently if we go by the HH/HB fandom's logic, John would be at fault for being abused because HE was the one who started the relationship. The fact that he had feelings for her at one point automatically means that he has to be in the relationship forever now.

Now if we go to Blitzø and Stolas, Blitzø is at fault for being in sexual coercion because he tried to not get himself (In his mind) killed by Stolas when he tried taking his book. Its his fault for not loving him when what they had was a transactional agreement that was purely business. Its Blitzø's fault for not realizing Stolas was having a serious conversation with him in Full Moon, when Stolas has never treated Blitzø like an equal in the past.

Conclusion

When going through this whole rant I wanted to put this somewhere but didnt know where:

I don't condemn thievery... but I also dont condemn coercive rape.

Just because Stolas feels bad about it does not make anything any better. Even if he didn't mean to put Blitzø in this situation, whatever way you look at it, its unhealthy. Blitzø needed the book to run his buisness that he worked hard for to LIVE. Stolas was the one who decided this whole agreement. HE was the one who put these two in this predicament. And yet this show still decides to make Stolas look like a victim.

[cofay]

★ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁.ᐟ➤ sleepy!!

Part2!!!!( Previously)

Itching to see Bakugou again wasn’t really how you were intending for your day to go. The classes you had together you snuck glances at him and could feel your face get hot like by just staring at the guy?! What’s going on? Do you like him? But it can’t be you guys basically just met and he doesn’t even spend enough time with you at school alone so how could you like him? There’s just no way.

As all these thoughts roamed your head you failed to notice the blond boy that was walking up to you as you were walking to the lunch line.

“Y/n.” He says grabbing your arm

“What- whoa what’s going on?”

“Come sit with me during lunch I have enough for the both of us.”

“Why?” At this point you would think that if someone likes you or wants to get to know you better they surely wouldn’t be dragging you to their lunch table by force and giving you no say!?

“Cuz’ I can tell nobody packs you your own lunch..always eating school food n shit’ “ the last part was said under his breath of course he wouldn’t want to offend you but damn he hated how nobody is treating you how he would nobody patches you up after you get hurt on the field, nobody packs you good fucking lunch as he puts it.

Nobody cares for you like he would, oh If he just had you already he would smother you, give you the whole world if you asked just to prove himself to you.If he had the guts to. So instead he just do the things he wishes others do for you like now. He wishes others cook for you or well he wishes he could cook for you.

Bakugou just wishes the thoughts in his mind would shut the fuck up he may seem like he doesn’t care on the outside but damnit he’s shaking like a fuckin’ new born cattle he was nervous!? this is fuckin new.he hopes he didn’t make you mad or better yet he just hopes he didn’t ruin his chances to be with you.

You sit down at the table awkwardly and then he pulls out two lunch boxes one for you and one for him. You take it slowly.

“What did you make?”

“Some sushi rolls and ramen”

“Sounds good, thanks…Bakugou”

“Katsuki.”

“What?”

“Call me Katsuki you don’t have to be formal” he grunts out before he starts OBLITERATING his food. You do not exactly the same first you taste the sushi rolls gosh this guy can cook…then you went to taste the ramen as the noodles hit your tongue you almost broke you neck leaning it back just because of the FUCKING TASTE god you loved this cooking.

It was wayy better than what you’ve been eating this whole year swallowing whatever you had in your mouth you quickly turned to face him.

“Katsuki.”

“What?” He turns to face you confused but not angry or annoyed

“Can I do something?”

“Um do what—“ without a words you raised your hands and cupped his face… “The hell are you doing?—“ he grunts.

“Showing my appreciation,your food was just soooooo goood!” You start to pinch his cheeks and squeezing them which of course makes him blush what the hell?! Is this what you do to all your friends?…not that he’ll complain your hands were soft and warm and then your pretty smile..it just made his heart beat so fucking fast.

“S-stop it-“

“But your cheeks are so soft aww look at you!”

This made his face even redder were you calling him cute?? You’re just smothering him with attention. He grabs your wrist not hard but mildly to get you to stop and you do. Well now isn’t this awkward you’re just staring at him with your pretty eyes…wait what?

“Hey guys” A pink haired girl walks up to the table and as her gaze looks around the table it drops on the blond and you. “What’s going on here? You guys dating?” She teases pointing her finger

“Nothing we’re not dating.” Bakugou moves himself to face his lunch again you do the same but since you want to be an asshole now you scoot closer to him.

“Who is she?” You ask looking at Bakugou

“Raccoon eyes introduce yourself.”

“Pft still rude as ever..anyways I’m Mina! Mina Ashido” she says with a bright smile it’s very contagious you start to smile too

“I’m Y/n, L/n Y/n”

“Nice to meet you anwaysss..are you Bakugou plus one for the karaoke Sunday??”

“Uh-“

“Yes she he” he interrupted

~~~~~

As Sunday inches closer you scramble through your closet looking for the perfect outfit to save for Sunday as your elbow deep into your bin of clothes you hear a knock at your door you turn your music off.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me princess.”

“Come in the doors unlocked”

As Bakugou walks in he stares at you then he starts looking around your room and how it was decorated with pictures of you and your friends, family too some pets then posters of shows and musicians all dressed under fairy lights and his gaze lingers over to your desk organized and decorated also with small figures and one hello kitty mirror

“Don’t tell me you’re a neat freak?”

“M’ not.” You grumble

“What are you doing”

“Looking for an outfit for Sunday”

“What do you plan on wearing?”

“Why would I be elbow deep in my basket if I didn’t planned to wear something? Clearly I didn’t plan” you say a little bit aggressively

“Damn chill” he goes to sit on your bed.

“Do you need anything?”

“No”

“So why are you here”

“Just to see you”

“Forr?…” you drag your sentence on wanting to really know why he was here because it really can’t be one reason right?

“For nothing just to see you.” He grunts

You get up putting your basket back in your closet and you walk up to the bed.

“Do you like me?”

Hell no. Did you already know about his crush or something why are you asking this question now?

He snaps his gaze back to you a blush forming slowly on his cheeks

“What are you talking about dumbass?”

“I mean you said you were here to see me for no reason so you must like me” you say pointing towards yourself smirking

“I didn’t know you were so full of shit” he says his blush turning a deeper shade of red

“Relax I’m kidding…” you say sitting down next to him “unless…” you turn to face him slowly

“Shut it.” He shoves his hand in your face, you start to giggle and peel his hand away from your face.

“Look you mess up my hair!”

“Fine I’ll fix it”

He leans in fixing the front of you hair. You took this as a chance to actually examine his face you look from his furrowed eyebrows to his bright red irises then to his flushed cheeks and lastly to his plump soft…pinkish lips…you kinda wish you could kiss him

Wait what are you thinking you’re just friends with him..you pull his hands away from your hair saying it’s fine and getting up to fix it yourself. What you didn’t notice is how Bakugou saw the way you looked at his lips it opened up something inside of him..

“So do you want me to pick you up and drop you off for Sunday?” He says looking at you through the mirror

“Um..sure I wouldn’t mind”

“Okay. What’s your number so I can text you?”

“Here,” you hand him your phone exchanging numbers with him. “Wait can I take a picture to use for your contact?”

“What why-“

“Don’t answer that say cheese” you lift your phone up holding it to face him and snap a picture. Once you look at it you frown. “Why’d you flip me off Katsukii?” You whine

“Shut up.”

༝༚༝༚

 later that night you can’t deny it you were staring at his picture all night kinda hoping he would text you but it wouldn’t matter in the end because you’re finally going to get to spend even more time with him tomorrow at the Karaoke place, and maybe go to the park after take a stroll…maybe.

IM GONNA BE HONEST LINKS HATE ME PART4

@armeenix

[mrsbarnesxxx]

Bill Weasley x Malfoy!reader. Met at Hogwarts, dating since graduation. Bill brings reader home and Weasleys hate her/treat her like flour until bill snaps them they get to know her. End with fluff

Warnings: slurs/general unkind words (nothing too serious), fighting, angst, Bill being an absolute sweetheart

It wasn't easy growing up a Malfoy. Everything you did was under scrutiny. Everything was about blood status. Your parents barely spoke to you anymore now that you had "betrayed" them by dating Bill Weasley. You two had met at Hogwarts, you'd had classes together every year, and eventually, the two of you bonded about being the eldest in your family. Eventually, one summer day, Bill had asked you to marry him. Of course, you said yes, however, you were regretting saying yes to spending time with his family. You had gotten to the burrow yesterday afternoon and no one had said a word to you. Maybe they thought you'd be like your family, but they clearly weren't interested in getting to know you. They would look at you and scoff before turning away. You expected a bit of apprehension from them. Bill had told you this was the first time he had brought a girl home and your family didn't exactly help, but you hadn't expected them to be this bad. Over the last day, they had escalated from ignoring you to saying blatantly rude things. They would call you a blood supremacist, a snake, and all sorts of other things.

The second night you were there you had enough at dinner.

All of his brothers had been making subtle comments since dinner started, you'd expected one of his parents to say something, but it seemed they agreed with them.

"J'aimerais y aller, s'il te plaît." I whisper leaning over to Bill after his mother's latest jab.

"What? English is beneath you, princess?" Bill's brother Ron jeers.

"Alright, that's enough," Bill says standing up from the table. "All of you have been nothing but rude to my fiancee since we got here. None of you have bothered to get to know her or even ask her anything about her. You haven't even bothered to make polite conversation that anyone could tell was fake. What is wrong with you? You used to be the most loving people. I get the world is messed up, but that's no excuse for your behavior. Come on, let's go." He says, finally turning to me and extending a hand. I take it, offering a polite smile at his family before we leave the room.

"You have to understand that we never expected you to bring someone like her home." His mother exclaims. That seems to stop Bill in his tracks. He turns around to face his family.

"Someone like what? You don't even know her. You always said that you never cared about blood, but it seems you care about her's." He says. "Let's go."

He turns back to me, taking my hand and leading me upstairs.

"I'm so sorry, darling. I can't believe they acted like that tonight." He says pulling me into a hug.

"Bill, you can't be serious?" I ask pulling away from him. "They've been acting like that since I got here. You haven't heard your brothers' comments about my 'murderous heritage'? Or your sister asking me to pull up my sleeves to check for a snake on my left arm? Or your mother calling me 'one of those people'? The only person who has been remotely kind to me is your father and he just hasn't said anything to me."

"I'm so sorry. I should have paid better attention. I have no idea why they're acting like this." He says softly, caressing my cheek. "We'll go first thing in the morning, okay?"

"We can't go, Bill. We're supposed to be having the wedding here. In the backyard with your parents and the rest of your family." I explain.

"I don't care. If they're treating you this way, then they don't get to come to our wedding."

"Bill, they're your family!"

"And you are too." he says caressing my cheek. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want you to be the mother of my children, and in 16 days, you're going to be my wife, so that makes you the most important person in the world to me, okay?"

"Okay." I smile leaning up to kiss him.

As soon as our lips meet there's a knock on the door. We pull away from each other, Bill running a hand over his face before turning to his mother in the doorway. He doesn't say anything, simply looks at her waiting to see what she has to say.

"We're so sorry, Bill. We never meant to treat her like that...we're just...we're sorry. Please come back downstairs. We can start over." His mum offers.

I smile and take Bill's hand, "Please." I whisper trying to relax him.

"Okay." He nods looking at me.

I smile, interlocking our fingers before we head downstairs.

As we reach the table, anxiety fills my chest at what his family might say or if they never like me, but I know that none of that matters because I have Bill.

[lady-ashfade]

Through My Window. Pt.2

Day 17 of celebration marathon.

-♡Book!older!Percy Jackson x Fem!reader.

-£ this fic was very popular and I have been asked uncountable times to make a part two, some people will be disappointed but I hope I can please some!

-£ Part one.

-£ words: 1.7k

-£ warnings: angst, seeing your ex, crying, reader being rightfully upset, college reader & percy, reconnecting from the past, I had a hard time writing this, so poor writing.

You’d like to say you got over him.

That everything was placed in a box and forgotten and never thought of again. Tragically you couldn’t seem to get percy out of your thoughts. Late at night you’d see him fighting monsters, saw him running for his life, or the past moments you shared. But they were only dreams, and he wasn’t going to come back for you. The college life treated you well enough and even if you couldn’t get him out of your mind the new friends you made helped keep him out from time to time.

You could lied to yourself that the boys you spent time with at parties or your dorm didn’t make you feel special. But they weren’t him and you hated that. Percy was somewhere with someone like him— better for him then you and he was happier. He had it all while you stayed the same girl who longed to feel his love again, to see his smile and brush his hair.

You missed him. Everything about him was stuck in your mind like a constant playing movie on repeat. It was years you both knew each other, he was a friend before anything so your heart wanted him close again. Even though you knew it would sting to glance upon him once more.

Today you had extra time to yourself in between classes so you went off campus to get yourself something to eat. Thankfully the small shop you loved was empty and not overflowing with business. And it was a perfect day to eat outside and review your notes, so you did just that. Sitting underneath a tree at a bench and eating your lunch. It was peaceful. You liked the light breeze on your skin and rustling of the leaves in your ears made you smile.

“You’ve got something in your hair,” he chuckled and pulled out a leaf from your hair making you role you eyes. He smirked at your attitude and leans to press his lips to yours. And you couldn’t stay mad at him after that.

“I can’t believe how beautiful you are.”

Suddenly the breeze made it easier for your spine to feel a shiver as you remembered the feeling of his hand on your cheek. It was like remembering a ghost of your past, making you cold and icy. The last words he ever said to you were him apologizing. It made your skin crawl, he was sorry? Time couldn’t heal you when all he said was “I’m sorry” like it was a simple fix for you. You weren’t enough for him, and you came to terms with that but he lied to you all that time, only to dump you before prom.

Now percy wasn’t happy with himself. He never wanted to leave you, he swore to be by your side even when odds weren’t on his favor and that’s exactly what he didn’t do. He left your side and broke your heart with something that wasn’t true. It was no secret that you were everything to him and he worshipped the ground you walked on. And that’s exactly why he had to leave you, you were his greatest weakness to his enemies. And the lie about annabeth made his head turn with regret and guilt.

But you brought it up and at the time it was a good coverup to make you hate him— which he was right. You did hate him and rightfully so. Each night he went to sleep with you in his mind, and then when he woke he was never left with your voice in his head. Percy knew you probably wouldn’t want him back but he’d never want anyone else. That doesn’t mean he would blame you for moving on, you deserved to be loved and he wanted you happy.

but that was all forgotten when he saw you now. just a perfect as ever.

“Excuse me,” His throat went dry as he approached closer to you. he should have kept walking, leaving you alone because he hurt you.

“Do you had to know anywhere around here that takes golden drachmas?” All the breath in his chest went away when you turned your head to look at him. He knew he missed you but he could cry on his knees right now upon seeing you again but reality reminded him quickly. Your eyes were shocked and wide like he was a monster of some sort only here to hurt you.

“What are you doing here?” You hiss and grab ahold of your notebook to ground yourself. Glancing around the place for any sign of anyone else, her for example. But you saw no sign of the blonde beauty anywhere.

“Honestly, I heard you moved here for college and hoped to run into you,” he spilled and walked closer with his hands sweating. “Which I now believe sounds crazy.” he gives you awkward smile which you don’t return, instead you get up from your seat and pick up your things in a rush. your books starts to fall and papers flying while you groan and try to catch everything. He wanted to help you but you held up your hand to stop him from coming closer.

“I told you,” once you had everything in your bag again you stomped your feet and glare at him, “I never want to see you again.”

Percy remembered those words like they had happened only moments ago. He also remembers the tears rolling down your eyes when you shouted at him to leave. He was haunted each day. What hurt him worse was how you stormed away from him leaving him like a sad puppy…exactly like he left you. But he wasn’t going to leave you thinking any longer that he would choose anyone over you.

“Wait,” he jogged behind you. he knew you heard him when you started to speed up to get away from him. “Please, Baby—” it’s been forever since he called you that and he knew his mistake as soon as he let them slip. You turned quickly with a fire in your eyes that could burn him down to ash with your hatred.

“You have no right to call me that!” Your voice echoes through the air as you point your finger at him. He stopped in his tracks just a few inches before you and his head hung in shame. “Not after everything you’ve done.”

“That’s what I’m here to see you, I never-”

“I don’t care for your reasons or apology— I want you to leave me alone.” And that was the one thing he couldn’t do. Not yet.

“Just give me a chance to explain why I left.” He pleads with begging eyes. You shake your head with no more control over your emotions to say no to him. Tears pool up in your eyes while trying to wave him away from you.

“You left me—even when you promised.” For the first time in a long time he got to feel you but not in the way he dreamed about, but by you hitting his chest. “You said you’d stay by my side no matter what. You said that I was enough.” Even after you continued to hit his chest you sobbed while he watched with tears of his own.

“You promised.” His arms wrapped around your trembling figure and pulled you close and you gave out in the fight and let him. You cried into his chest while he rubbed your back with no care for anything else but you.

“I never stopped loving you. I lied and I am forever sorry to be the cause of your pain but I had to, I’d rather you hate me then watch you die.” you breathe out and pull away from his chest and look at him. he could see the puzzled look at your face. “I lied about being in love with annabeth. I needed you to hate me so you wouldn’t be targeted and-”

“So you’re saying all of it— the constant feeling like I wasn’t enough…was all a lie?” he wanted to deny it but he couldn’t get anything out of his mouth.

Stepping back and throwing his arms off of you, “really? Now that,” you began to laugh and lean over with your hands wrapping around yourself. “is the most pathetic thing I’ve ever heard. I pictured her kiss you, you telling her that you love her- when it wasn’t happening?” it was a mix of crying and laughing now at yourself, even a hint of anger.

“Hunny..” he reached out for you again but you moved out of the way. you whip you eyes of tears and your cheeks with your smile still on your face. It was all too much for you to handle, seeing him again and the him telling you the truth. So your outburst may have seemed crazy but it was natural for your body to be overwhelmed.

“That’s why you came? Go get it off your conscience,” you tilt your head.

“No, I came to tell you the truth…to see you again, make sure you’re happy.” you could tell by his eyes that he meant all the words. A frown on his face and he looked over you like you’d change in seconds again. 

“How could I have been happy without you? You’re a idiot,” you confess. again, there was not a day that has gone by without thinking of him. “Massive.” He agreed with you with his own smile creeping on his face. You missed him after everything he did.

“But if you’ll have me, I’ll spend the rest of my days making it up to you.” His hand grabbed yours slowly incase you wanted to pull away from him but you didn’t. you wrap your fingers around his, moving closer to him.

“You have a lot of making up to do.” it was a peaceful moment between you both as you smile together.

Maybe you shouldn’t have taken him back. Maybe you should have forgive him on the spot. But you knew that he was met to be in your life or he wouldn’t be here now. Slipping through your window with a wide smile into your dorm room and waiting for a hello kiss from you. And he would continue to come to your window until college was over.

“Someones going to catch you coming through my window.”

taglist: @maria699669 @purplerose291 @itzmeme @ravenmedows @repostingmyfavs

[writing-for-marvel]

Withdrawal

[He’s Hazardous To My Health Series]

Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Resident!Fem!Reader

< < PART 2 | Series Masterlist | PART 4 > >

Summary: You wait for Bucky to call.

Warnings: strictly 18+ due to the AU, some angst and self doubt, references to sex, references to Bucky having a traumatic past

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: Will he call? Won’t he call? Let’s find out! Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Main Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library

Bucky stares down at his phone and sighs.

He wants to call you, genuinely, so why is dialling your number so difficult?

Perhaps it’s too soon, is what he tells himself. It hasn’t even been a full day since the end of your date, calling now probably makes him look desperate.

Should he message you? Tell you that he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you all day? Ugh, no… that seems extremely forward for someone he’s only been on a single date with, regardless of if it’s the truth.

There’s never been anyone whom he’s connected with enough to warrant a second date, let alone have him promising to call. He’s completely out of his depth, drowning in a sea of anxiety and no one has taught him how to swim.

Bucky knows he’s overthinking, but you make it hard to think clearly. You have his brain short circuiting, reforming synapses so that all his thoughts are rerouted to the same thing: you.

Turning his phone off, he sets it down beside him. Just because he isn’t calling straight away, doesn’t mean he won’t at all. It’s probably better to wait and not seem super eager.

Or is that counterintuitive? If you enjoy someone’s company, should you let them know so you can see them again as soon as possible?

Fuck, why is this such a daunting task? He’s never had an issue with talking or flirting with anyone before, it seems to come naturally to him. And yet the thought that he’ll say the wrong thing, and fuck up whatever it is between the two of you is making his stomach churn with prickling nerves he’s never experienced before.

Perhaps he’ll find the courage to call tomorrow.

* * *

“You seem distracted, what’s on your mind?” The familiar voice from the driver's seat of the ambulance pulls Bucky from his daydream.

You, is what Bucky thinks. You are constantly on his mind. Him and his best friend Steve are half an hour into their shift and you have not left the forefront of his mind in that entire time.

It’s like he’s in a trance.

“There’s this girl from the hospital…” Bucky trails off, unsure how to articulate exactly how you’ve bewitched him since meeting not even a week ago.

The night before last wasn’t just another hookup. At least, not to him.

“I’m gonna need a little more information than that Buck, there’s been quite a few girls of yours, especially from the hospital.” Steve laughs, but Bucky’s chest tightens at the insinuation that you’re just another fling, even though Steve doesn’t know any better.

“Two nights ago we went on a date, it ended up back at her place.” This is probably not news to Steve - he’s heard many stories about Bucky’s one night stands which would have started exactly like this. But there is one huge difference this time around. “And then I told her I’d call.”

“You’re thinking about a second date with her? She must be something special.” Bucky chuckles under his breath. Yeah, you really are something special. So fucking special.

“She’s beautiful, intelligent, funny, witty. When she was treating that little girl from the train derailment she was so good with her, kind and patient. I don’t know how to describe it, we just click. I don’t think I’ve ever allowed myself to feel more than physical attraction for someone but with her it just happens, I can’t stop myself.”

He doesn’t want to admit it to himself, but Bucky’s already addicted to you. He’s only had one fix, but he’s already showing symptoms of withdrawal. Every second apart feels like an hour, craving your company and the rapture firing in every neuron of his body when you’re in his presence.

“Look at you actually falling for someone.” Steve teases, without even knowing the full extent of how enthralled Bucky is with you. “So when are you seeing her again?”

Silence fills the front seat of the ambulance when Bucky can’t answer the question.

“Bucky, you have to see her again! Listen to how you’re talking about her, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you actually speak about wanting to see someone again. You need to call her.” Steve stops at a red light and looks over to Bucky in the passenger seat. His best friend knows him better than perhaps he knows himself but doesn’t have the same obstacle with letting people in as Bucky does.

“That’s easier said than done.” Bucky can’t mask the dejected tone in his voice, and Steve recognises the crestfallen hang of his head, knowing exactly what he means without voicing it aloud.

“I know you've been through a lot in your life Buck, you’ve built walls up to prevent any more heartbreak…” Steve starts, but Bucky doesn’t need yet another reminder of his tragic backstory.

“Alright Mr I minored in psychology, I get your point. I’m damaged goods and don’t let people get close to me.”

“It’s just a second date, Buck, you aren’t asking for her hand in marriage. Just see where it goes.” Steve makes it sound so easy. Most people wouldn’t get so stressed about something they would consider as minor as a second date, yet Bucky feels like he’s about to expose the most intimate parts of his soul to someone for the first time.

“But I don’t want to hurt her. I know nothing about dating or being in a relationship.” Bucky pauses - the fact that he’s even considering something as substantial as a relationship with you punches him in the gut. He’s never wanted that with someone before. “And I don’t want to get hurt myself.” Because all Bucky has known is relationships breaking down. To him romantic relationships are synonymous with pain and he’s had enough of that for a lifetime.

“You’ll never know if you never try. I know you think letting someone in will lead to heartbreak, but what if it’s the opposite? What if by letting this person into your heart you finally find love and contentment?” Bucky has never allowed himself to imagine a life where that is a possibility - opening himself up to that prospect sounds like a recipe for more suffering. Besides, he’s been damaged goods for a long time, he’s sure there’s no one who would want to put up with him anyway.

“You really are a hopeless romantic.” Bucky comments, trying to avoid the questions Steve is raising, and divert the topic of their conversation.

“I want you to be happy, Buck. You’ve never afforded yourself that courtesy.”

Though his experience screams at him to run in the opposite direction, that this would be a horrible decision leading to further pain, Bucky finds it hard to believe someone as sweet and good-natured as yourself would ever hurt him intentionally. Even if there is only a slim chance that he doesn’t completely fuck this up, given Bucky cannot stop thinking about you, he supposes it’s worth a shot calling you.

“Well, maybe it’s finally time I do.” Bucky mutters under his breath.

* * *

You’ve been checking your phone periodically throughout the day to se if you have any new notifications from Bucky, but each time your phone lights up, a new wave of disappointment floods your chest.

You wonder if the notion of actually calling you, or simply messaging, has even crossed Bucky’s mind once since he left your place about 36 hours ago, or if he already knew it was an empty promise at the time he made it.

“Heard anything yet?” Wanda asks hopefully, but you shake your head in response. The first thing Wanda asked during your next shift together was how your date went with Bucky - between treating patients you described the picnic Bucky set up on the riverbank and (in slightly less detail) the euphoric night you shared when you made it back to your place.

“I’m stupid for actually believing he’s going to call, aren’t I?”

“…No.” Wanda offers after a brief hesitation which tells you more than the single word does. Sensing your regret in asking, she continues on. “Sweetie, only you know the connection you share, I can’t speak to that. If you feel like there’s something special there and he promised to call, then you have every right to believe him.”

Perhaps you’re being foolish, you should know better than to hang your hopes on a man who is notorious for being a fuckboy, but you really thought Bucky was being genuine when he promised to contact you. That the blissful night you shared, and the waves of ecstasy which melded into a flood of pure pleasure, meant more than just a one night stand.

Or at least it did to you.

“Just because he’s never pursued more than a first date with other people in this hospital doesn’t mean he isn’t now, or isn’t with you. Sometimes it just takes the right person, that could be you.” You take some comfort in the sincerity of her tone, but the voice in the back of your mind reminds you of what Wanda alerted you to prior to your date: no one gets a second date with Bucky Barnes.

“You’ve changed from giving me no hope to giving me false hope, Wan.” You joke, trying to brush off the conversation and not reveal just how heartbroken you’ll be if Bucky ghosts you, even with Wanda warning about his ways.

Internally you remind yourself that it’s only been a day and a half and to not be too mad at him, yet. Perhaps he intends to call, but hasn’t gotten around to it, though you’re pretty sure you’re only telling yourself that to stop the perpetual ache in your chest rather than truly believing it.

“He promised he would call, that’s not false hope.” Wanda advises, shooting you a look of encouragement as you both complete paperwork for your respective patients.

At that moment, the doors to the ER swing open and none other than the paramedic you were just speaking about walks in wheeling a patient.

You hate how good he looks, long chestnut hair framing his face and those dazzling blue eyes you’ve dreamed about shine from all the way across the room. He’s unfairly attractive, and he walks into a room like he knows it too.

Him and his partner consult the head nurse of the ER, who, after examining her clipboard for a moment, points towards your direction, making your stomach flip.

Steel blue eyes meet yours and for a moment your entire world stands still. The sounds of the busy ER fade away and even the presence of Wanda beside you dissolves into non-existence when his eyes find you and a smile overtakes his features. That damn cheeky smile which makes your knees weak.

He truly is infuriatingly beautiful.

“Hey.” Is all you can think to say as they approach, a lump in your throat forming which would prevent you from voicing any more words if your brain could think of any other than how strapping and handsome he looks in his uniform.

“Hi.” Bucky responds softly with a dreamy smile, eyes lingering on yours for a long beat before turning away. How could someone who looks at you with such warmth not want to see you again?

You shake the thought from your mind as your focus on the patient, a young man with scared brown eyes. You can’t afford to be distracted right now, even if you desperately want to look back at him and revel in the fondness brimming in his eyes which was so apparent during your date.

After Bucky’s equally tall, broad and handsome paramedic partner gets you up to speed on the patient's history, you get to work on taking his vitals.

“Rogers, Barnes, give us some space to work, please.” Dr Strange requests and without the chance to say another word to each other, both paramedics disappear out the corner of your periphery.

What you don’t notice is Bucky’s soft gaze on you through the glass walls of the patient room as you start your work up, believing that he had simply got back in his ambulance and out into the field.

“That’s her?” Steve asks from beside Bucky. He knows full well it must be you, he’s never seen his best friend look so enamoured with a girl, nor lost for words as when he set eyes on you, but he wants Bucky to admit it aloud.

“Yep, that’s her.” Bucky says with a pride that if Steve didn’t know any better, would suggest that her meant his girl. Bucky answers without taking his eyes off you, the corners of mouth tugging into a smile. His best friend has it bad, and he doesn’t even realise.

Steve suspects if he doesn’t remind Bucky they have a shift to get back to, he’d happily watch you work for the rest of the day.

He allows Bucky a couple more minutes of that luxury before heading back to the ambulance, knowing his best friend well enough to realise before either Bucky or yourself do, just how significant Bucky’s feelings for you are.

* * *

Bucky steps out of the shower, the warm water having rinsed the hard days work off himself.

He knows he needs to call you. Waiting any longer, especially after seeing you today, even if it were only for a brief moment, would surely only indicate disinterest. That’s so far from how he feels about you, so he decides needs to take matters into his own hands and fulfil the promise he made two nights ago.

A fresh swarm of butterflies fills his stomach. He’s actually going to do this.

He just hopes you’re after more than just another hookup. Bucky’s used to being the one only interested in sex, but if the roles are reversed this time, it’ll be his exposed heart being ripped from his chest.

No, he can’t think like that. He’s finally giving himself a chance at happiness.

Bucky reminds himself that you asked him to promise to call after your date. It’s not just him that wants this, you want him to call.

With that thought, he pulls out his phone and quickly presses on your contact, so he doesn’t chicken out, and with a shaky hand holds his phone to his ear. Bucky’s heart beats in his throat as the first ring sounds, and then skips a beat altogether when the click of you answering fills his ears.

“Bucky, you called.” He can hear the smile in your voice through the line, but what makes his heart clench is the trace of surprise he can perceive, as if you truly hadn’t expected him to call.

“I did promise to.” He reminds you, but it doesn’t entirely eliminate the bitter shame bubbling in the pit of his stomach that even though he did in fact promise, you didn’t fully believe him.

“I’m happy you did. I had a really great time the other night.”

“So did I.” Those three simple words don’t sum up just how much Bucky wholeheartedly enjoyed every second he spent with you, regardless of if that were naked in your bed or getting to know you on a picnic blanket as the sun set across the horizon, but in his anxious state he can’t find words more poetic to express it. “And I’d love to do it again if you’re up for it.”

“Hmm, I’m gonna have to think about it.” He can tell by the light tone of your voice you’re joking, but he supposes he deserves waiting for an answer considering he made you wait for his call. “Of course I’d love to go on a second date with you James.”

The combination of your words and the fact that you punctuated the sentence with his true first name sends Bucky straight to heaven. Everything about you makes him completely weak in a way he has never experienced before. All of those walls Steve seems to think Bucky has built around himself don’t appear to exist with you, instead, you’ve come into his life as easily as walking through a front door with a welcome mat out front.

“I guess I’m going to have to outdo a picnic at sunset then.” He chuckles to himself, knowing that he’s never had this problem before, but realising it’s a good problem to have.

You continue to talk well into the night, forgetting what time it is, and that you both have early shifts in the morning. None of that matters when you’re so caught up in each other.

Bucky simply enjoys the sound of your voice, and how it soothes the remaining anxiety which was swirling in his chest before calling you. He certainly isn’t hanging up first, not when talking with you has been the best part of his day.

He’s chasing happiness. And he might just find it with you.

Part 4 > >

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