#⅋ ! / ( edits . . . ) SO GIVE ME SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL‚ SO GIVE ME SOMETHING ELSE . ¡

[bigsuki]

DELICATE | han taesan.

PAIRING: situationship!taesan x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: you’d always had this bad habit of reading too far into the lines, misinterpreting people’s intentions. but after months of “casually” spending time with taesan, you wonder if perhaps you misunderstood his feelings for you as well.

WORD COUNT: 2.02k

GENRE/CONTENTS: fluff, situationship, age gap (reader is 19 and taesan is 21), reader’s hopelessly in love w this guy lol, cliché game of tag.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i’m such a liar lmfao 😹 hello again!!! here’s another (shorter) taesan fic that used to be a one shot i wrote for sunghoon like 3 years ago omg this is so bad 😭 but going through my old google docs and editing all my fics is lowkey the best way for me to get back into writing, though it’s probably gonna take me a good couple of weeks to pump something new out i fear 😞 anyways!!! hope u guys enjoy <3

RECOMMENDED SONG: Make It Wit Chu by Queens of the Stone Age.

Your teenage years were supposed to be like everyone else's — full of fun and carelessness and not giving a shit about anything. You were supposed to meet people you’d never thought existed and experience things you never believed you’d experience. Your life was supposed to be a movie, something you’d remember forever.

But now you were nineteen, at the end of your teenage years and on the verge of starting another decade. Everything you thought you’d have experienced by now never happened. The people you thought you’d meet never really exist. Your life, unfortunately, was not a movie and you were sure that by the time you were thirty, you wouldn't even remember half of the things you said or did simply because of how boring your life was. Hell, you’d probably had blocked out the entirety of your teenage years by then.

But then you met Han Taesan.

Describing Taesan was perhaps one of the most difficult things you could do. He was beautiful, but even that didn't do him much justice. He was a ray of sunlight that lit up any room he walked into, despite his choice of clothing — always dark colors, any variation of black on blue. He was shy and reserved one moment, and then loud and enthusiastic the next, talking your ear off as if his words never ran out. But what you loved most about him were his eyes because through them, you could see everything he saw, feel everything he felt. Han Taesan held the stars in his eyes and the world in the palm of his hand.

However, your relationship with Taesan was strange.

You weren't friends, but you weren't exactly dating either. He'd hold your hand in crowded places, making sure you were close to him — always — and immediately let go when you were surrounded by other friends. He'd offer to buy you lunch on weekends and would sit across from you, compliment you and make you feel like the most special person on the face of the earth, then immediately deny he liked you or were dating whenever the waiter asked. He'd take you to the movies, only to stare at you the entire time and act like nothing had happened after. And he'd walk you home after, holding your hand again because he knew no one else would know underneath the dark night sky, something that was meant to be kept between you and him. Him and you.

Maybe it was the idea of being with someone older than you — though your age gap wasn’t really that big — someone who made you feel special without ever really trying. He made your heart race and the hibernating butterflies in your stomach come to life. He could say anything to you and you’d still smile. And though you weren't dating, you swore that along with the world, he held your heart.

But your heart had always been a delicate thing, and it seemed that whenever Taesan held onto it too tightly, it would crack.

Perhaps it was because you never questioned your relationship aloud, or simply because you were still too young to know what you were doing or what you wanted. Or perhaps Han Taesan was just an asshole who enjoyed playing with your heart (though you seriously doubted it). Or perhaps you were simply too emotional, too sensitive, too attached.

You were never sure if Han Taesan loved you, but you knew that you loved him. You loved him the way the ocean loves the moon, the way the flowers love the rain. You loved him so much you felt your heart that rested in his palm could burst at any second.

"Y/N," he called your name, resting his head back on his arms as he looked up at the clouded, blue sky. God, you loved the way your name rolled off his tongue. He made it sound as if your name was the most beautiful word you’d ever heard. "What are your thoughts on chocolate ice cream?"

"I prefer vanilla," you replied, stretching your legs out on the grass and crossing them. "I like sweet things."

He glanced at you for a moment, then looked away. "That says a lot about you, you know."

"Is that a bad thing?" you asked.

He smiled, "No. I prefer vanilla, too."

Taesan had always enjoyed asking pointless questions, but there were moments when he'd run out of those pointless questions and you would sit in silence beside him. It wasn’t necessarily an awkward silence, but it wasn't exactly comfortable either. It was just... silence, giving you both time to think of what to say and what not to say, and your thoughts were constantly filled with what you shouldn’t say.

How do you feel about me?

What are we doing?

I love you.

It was moments like these where you were thankful you had control over yourself. You sighed, bringing your knees closer to your chest and hugging them. He glanced at you, watching you bury your face in your knees and let out another sigh. "What are you thinking about?" he asked.

"Stuff," you replied, your voice muffled.

Taesan sat up, moving a few inches closer to you, but still keeping the space between you. He crossed his legs, tilting his head in curiosity as he looked at you, "What kind of stuff?”

You hummed and raised your head, looking in his direction and smiling a closed-lip smile. "It doesn't matter," you said. "It was just a thought that crossed my mind."

Besides asking meaningless questions, Han Taesan also happened to be very observant — a little too observant. You knew that if you didn't speak your thoughts to him, your actions would eventually show them, and he knew that too. You’d like to think he knew you better than you knew yourself.

Taesan stood up, dusting the grass off his pants and holding his hand out for you to grab. But you just stared at his hand instead and remained on the ground. "What?"

"Let's play tag," Taesan suggested, leaning down to grab your hand and pulling you up onto your feet, a small grunt leaving his throat.

"Aren't you too old to play tag?" you joked, smiling at him.

He scoffed. "Of course not," he said, his mouth slightly ajar as he feigned offence. You laughed at his reaction, satisfied. "Twenty-one is not old. Besides, we have our whole lives ahead of us."

"Okay," you sighed, giving in. You always gave in when it came to Taesan. "Let's play tag."

"You see that tree over there?" He pointed toward the distance, where a tree sat about forty feet from you. You nodded, "If you catch me before I get there, you win. If I get there before you tag me, I win. Loser has to grant the winner a wish. Deal?"

"Why do I have to be 'it'?" you complained jokingly.

"Because I said so. Ready, set, go!"

Han Taesan was a lot faster than you gave him credit for. Maybe it was the advantage of having longer legs, maybe it was because he'd always been sort of athletic. Whatever it was didn't matter. What did matter was that you were losing, and you were scared of whatever wish he’d ask you for — no, you were terrified.

"You're so slow," Taesan laughed, leaning against the tree, catching his breath. You walked towards him, also trying to catch her breath. "But I won," he smiled, "which means you have to grant me a wish."

"This was unfair," you mumbled under your breath. You took a seat on the ground and laid back, a hand on your stomach and an arm thrown over your eyes. "You didn't even give me a head start."

"Because you were ‘it’!”

"Whatever," you said, waving him off. "What do you want from me?" No response came from him, to which you found odd. You lifted your arm from your eyes and sat up, eyes still closed. Then you opened them, coming eye to eye with the male. He’d crouched down in front of you, his face mere millimeters away from yours.

“Can it be anything?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled. “This was your idea, not mine.”

“I need to know you’ll be okay with anything I ask for.”

“Taesan, I’m absolutely terrified of what you’re about to ask for.” He laughed, which in return made you laugh. “Whatever. It can’t be that bad. Ask away.”

“You have to promise you won’t freak out.”

“Why would I freak out?”

“Because you always freak out.”

You scoffed. “Fine,” you said. “I promise I won’t freak out.”

“Good.” Taesan paused, staring into your eyes for a while longer before his hands came up to gently hold your face, closing the small space between you, gently placing his lips onto yours. Before you could even process what had happened (or even have the chance to kiss him back), he pulled away, stared at you for a moment again, and stood up, walking toward the tree trunk and sitting next to it with his back facing you. You watched as his head dropped into his palms and he mumbled incoherent words to himself.

“W—” You stared at him in shock, unable to grasp the situation you were now in. “Why’d you do that?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbled. “I just wanted to.”

“You’re freaking out,” you pointed out.

“No I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not freaking out!” The sight of Han Taesan freaking out for the first time in front of you was entertaining. He’d always been the calm one, making sure not to let his emotions interfere too much. But now, sitting beneath a tree with his face buried in his palms, it seemed Taesan was in the middle of a mental crisis.

All because he’d kissed you.

You stood up, taking a few steps toward him, and crouching down next to him. “Was that actually your wish?“ you asked him curiously.

“Yeah,” he mumbled again. “I just wanted to get it over with.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Y/N.” Taesan finally turned and looked at you, staring at you with a serious expression. “Did you really think I’d just hold someone’s hand for the hell of it?” he deadpanned.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “You’re weird. You do a lot of things just for the hell of it. I just thought you weren’t sure what you wanted yet.” You paused, looking away. “I thought you were messing with me.”

“Tell me when have I ever held another person’s hand.”

“Okay, I get it,” you said, sighing. “But why did you kiss me?”

“Because you wanted to kiss me.” He snorted once he saw the shocked expression on your face. “What, did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

“Me? Wanting to kiss you? Pfft!” You laughed, an awkward laugh that made him smile in amusement. “Why would I want to kiss you?”

“I don’t know,” he said, “but if I’m being honest, I really wanted to kiss you too.”

Perhaps it was because you were still young. Perhaps it was because you still weren’t sure if what you wanted was each other. Perhaps whatever you had now wouldn’t last in a year or two. Whatever it was, none of it really mattered to you. What did matter was how badly you wanted Han Taesan, the boy who held stars in his eyes and the world in his hands, to kiss you again.

“Then do it,” you said.

It was obvious to you now, all the moments of silence you’d shared with each other, the awkward fumbling to find each other’s hand in the middle of a crowd, the urge to look at one another and never look away — it was so obvious. It had all been leading to this moment, the moment when you wouldn’t have to look at each other with longing because you already had each other. In fact, you’d had each other from the start. Taesan smiled, the stars in his eyes twinkling at the sound of your words.

“I will.”

2025 © bigsuki, all rights reserved.

[sp-growingpains]

i saw yours tags in that stan post about alcoholism and i have to agree as someone who not only has family that are such, but also had friends that were as well. it’s scary. there have been times where i was scared of both those family members and friends. and to see stan’s being treated as a way for “angst” breaks my heart. he obviously uses it to cope because he has no other outlet, no other ways of dealing with stress and it sucks. also addictive personalities are a REAL THING and can be 100% serious if not treated, which is 90% what stan has as well…i wish this fandom would take that seriously. i really do. because it can end badly for him and offers if not taken as such. which is why i want to see more of stan recovering. taking the time to do so. be proud of it. that feels so much more rewarding to me! ( btw, i’m happy you managed to get help, you’re going to do great <3 )

TW: ALCOHOLISM, SEXUAL ASSAULT, MENTAL HEALTH - Once again, do not read further if you're not okay or you don't have the mental health for it! Okay?

Forgive me now if all my points don't come across correctly or if it feels like I'm rambling? For something like this, I should have written it out, proof read it, and then edited it. But it's all off the hip and a collection of thoughts I've had since I've gotten it.

We good? Okay...let's go!

Hey friend. I have not been ignoring this ask! I kinda wanted to hoard it like a little goblin in my inbox because, honestly? I am so very touched by it.

It is things like this that make me want to continue to talk about it. Trigger warnings are important for things like this, but it's also so very important to talk about it. When you it out there like this, people connect and come together.

And ya know? If it takes these little cartoon assholes to do it. That's fine. Do what works for you and brings you closer to other people.

Because really you know what saved me? Community.

It was other people. It was my therapist. It was a group of individuals who were fighting the same battle - or had. It was my friends and people who loved me.

It was shit like this. Things that got me out of my head! Obsession and addiction is a real thing and like all things in the world, moderation.

You can do it. You can learn discipline. You can move forward. You can overcome it and be better.

The scary thing about alcoholism is that most of the time, its a different experience for each person. It didn't start out as a problem for me. It started off as a few beers with some friends. Then it turned into a few beers every Friday and that started the slippery slope into drinking every weekend.

It's not always falling over yourself, throwing up on yourself, blacking out. I wanna make that clear. Mine was. Mine was also spending money I didn't have - money I could have put away for today.

When Stan was using it as a way to get out of his head and get through the day, that was one of the rare moments I felt heard. And it kinda scared me. I love that episode, but I struggle to get through it because it hits close. BUT YOU KNOW WHAT?!

It's the end of the episode that one no one talks about! How he realized that he didn't need it to get through life! That people around him helped him get out of it! That experiencing new things in life and focusing up on hobbies helped him see color again. Life is scary. It's sometimes very lonely. It's hard.

I've seen some people talk about how Kyle was a horrible friend in that episode. Just like in Raisins when Stan was going through it. Just like in Guitar Queer-o when they had their fight. Once more into Freemium isn't free.

Look, in my opinion, that's the scariest fucking thing about addiction. I fully believe, from the bottom of my heart, no one is beyond saving from that. But those are MY ideals! There may be people who are just like me and feel the same. I would do anything for my best friend, and the people around me.

But you know what? I don't fucking blame Kyle or Stan for the outcome of those episodes. Because it's not Kyle's job to "fix" his best friend. In every episode, he does try! He tries to be a friend, and I'm gonna give Kyle some major props here, he calls him out on it!

When I was still an alcoholic, no one called me out for it. Why would they? They didn't know what was going on behind the scenes. They saw Ashe as this goofball who could pound back a bottle of whiskey and be "fine" the next day. They didn't know I was already thinking about my next drink and how amazing that felt, despite the splitting headache.

I liked me better when I drank. I liked the Ashe that I was. She was loose. He was funny. They weren't caught up in the fear of saying stupid and not being able to recover from it.

But I hated who I was the next day. I hated that I didn't take my life seriously. That I felt like no one would like me if I wasn't putting away as many cans of beer as possible.

That's incredibly sad and lonely. It felt like the only person who understood me was the bottle, and that wasn't the case. I just couldn't see it, and neither could the people I still call my best friends or my ex-fiancé.

I wish I had a Kyle then. Maybe things would have gotten better faster. I don't know.

I have heard so many real stories from other people. Lived it through watching family. It runs on both sides of my family, and because of that, I was able to come out the other side better. Like I said earlier, it's different for everyone. That's what makes people so wonderful. So fantastic.

No, the fact that we suffer or struggle - but who we are after. Your experience is not mine. I can sympathize. I can relate. But I'm not you.

So I tell my story. I talk about these portrayals in media. I try to be careful with my writing and my art because of it. Because if it changes just one person, it it helps just ONE individual; then I've done my job.

You gotta walk to get better. If you can't walk; you crawl. And if you can't crawl, you find someone to carry you.

Because you wanna know something that's so heart warming from that stupid fucking show about dicks and butts? Is that Kyle and Stan are always friends again. Kyle always welcomes Stan back. Stan learns more about his mental health, he learns how to regulate these desires! That's wonderful! That's so fucking wonderful.

I want that. I want to bring a media or a platform where people can feel that way too! I wanna be there for you, welcoming you back! I want a day where you can come out of any situation, having learned and become better for it. That you have a home, someone you feel safe with, and that you're alive!

Anon; I'm proud of you too! I am so very proud of you! You don't have to respond just please, please keep going. I know it's scary living through it, experiencing it, being around it.

Let me make this perfectly clear again. Those ideals and the way I feel are MINE. You owe nothing to people who hurt you. Nothing to people who would use this substance to harm and do unspeakable things! At the end of the day, you gotta live with you. Protect yourself, love yourself, and surround yourself with those who want to live with you, too!

I have been on the other end of a man who liked whiskey and four year olds a little too much. I have been on the other end of a mother who would rather spend her money on vodka and cigarettes instead of worrying about feeding her children. I have been on the other of the very real slippery slope of addiction. I walk on the other side of PTSD, Depression, Mania, and being Bi-Polar.

They do not define you. They are you, sure. But that is not all you are.

Your past with alcohol, your present with alcohol, your future with alcohol - that is not all you are. You are so many different shades of blues. And I love you.

[krispyjb]

Ah fuck I’m thinking about Water 7/Enies Lobby arc again

Whoops I wrote an essay in the tags

[sskk-manifesto]

!

[satoblue]

“𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄” — gojo satoru

to satoru’s surprise, his first-born looks nothing like him. | wc: 1.0k+

f!reader, established relationship (you are mrs. gojo), pregnancy mention, you’re in the hospital after giving birth to your beautiful baby girl who looks a lot like you, satoru is a menace to society (and you), talks of sex (so may be a bit suggestive) | star divider by @/cafekitsune, swirl divider from pinterest + edited by me

the first few stages of emotions satoru feels upon seeing and holding his healthy, newborn baby girl in his arms are 1) relief, 2) joy, 3) surprise, and 4) confusion.

as he stares down at the child in his arms, that big mouth of his opens once and all havoc breaks loose.

“this baby isn’t mine.”

the words are simple but not in meaning as it invokes such a reaction out of the nurses and you.

with a few, shocked gasps ringing in the air, you feel all eyes in the room aside from satoru’s (whom is still fixated on your newborn) come onto (the both of) you.

the heat on your cheeks in that moment is nothing compared to the utter rage brewing within you at his audacious behavior.

disbelief written all over your features, you try to ignore the avoidant side eyes of the medical staff. of all the times to spout some ridiculous nonsense, your husband chose now? — what the hell was he playing at? was this bastard accusing you of cheating?

“excuse me?! have you lost your mind?”

“i mean —” he licks his lips as if choosing his next words carefully (which he doesn’t). “she looks nothing like me. are you sure we got the right one?”

you can hear the whole world go silent aside from the beeping monitors in your hospital room. the nurses quickly (and wisely) hurry out.

“looks nothing like you?”, your eyes narrow, repeating his words dangerously low as if you were about to combust. he could practically see the steam coming out of your ears and holds back a chuckle.

“gojo satoru,” he winces at his full name. “that is your daughter — your daughter that i carried inside my stomach for months!”

and it was no easy feat.

perhaps it has something to do with satoru being the strongest, and in that way he has a mutant’s sperm — but your pregnancy was more difficult than the typical one which left you bedridden at only four months. and that is without even mentioning how your child felt the need to come earlier than her due date.

there should be absolutely no doubt in his mind that this is his child, one who is full of surprises right from birth.

“i know… but she doesn’t even have my hair or my nose or my lips! not even my big ears,” he pouts as he inspects the baby, turning her all sorts of (safe) ways to get a better look.

“all that there is, is you.” he finishes, gaze softening with a double meaning to his sentence, and he finally looks up at you sitting on the hospital bed.

“is this what this is about?”

“yes!”, a pitiful whine leaves his lips. “she should’ve come out looking exactly like me — my twin!”

“why does it even matter, ‘toru? she’s still yours in every way but appearance.”

“because, i want everyone to know i did this to you, that we made this child together — but my genes didn’t even put up a fight! how else will everyone who sees us together know you belong to me in such an irreversible way?”

then his sights dart to your stomach, hidden behind your thin hospital gown, his white brows furrowing. “maybe i didn’t fuck you hard enough…” he ponders, lips pursed.

his tone is low, but you hear it. your hands fly over your tummy to shield it from his piercing gaze, heat returning to your cheeks as you let out the scandalized gasp of the century.

there is a certain gleam in his eyes at your reaction — and you don’t like it one bit!

you think about hitting his head with the pillow to knock some sense into him (though it’d likely prove fruitless since his head is so big and boneheaded), but you’d save his beating for later when he isn’t holding your precious girl.

“you—”

with a sudden gasp, he reaches out a hand to you, waving it slightly to satiate your temper. he shushes you gently, whispering, “wait wait — she’s opening her eyes!”

quieting down, the both of you lean in, curious and in anticipation as your little one’s lashes flutter open slowly.

at what stares up at you, your lips part in sheer awe — and your husband stays uncharacteristically silent beside you.

“oh, satoru,” you absolutely melt.

with a coo, you whisper, “she has your eyes.” the very cerulean color you fell in love with once before and have again right now for the second time.

noticing how he hasn’t uttered a single thing, you look over next to you, before your eyes widen at the sight that greets you.

satoru, your husband, is crying. salty tears slip from his ducts and down his flushed cheeks, cute brows scrunched, blue clashing with blue for the first time.

“aw, baby. are you okay?” your own eyebrows knit together in worry and in contentment, noting his tears are of happiness.

all you get in response is a nonsensical blubber and a sniffle.

satoru’s heard it over a hundred times — how his eyes are pretty, beautiful, ethereal — even from you. he’s never cared much for it. to him, they were just eyes and the only value he saw in them is the power they gave him over others.

but now, he understands. and he thinks he’s starting to fall in love with them too.

“she’s so beautiful…” his lip wobbles, voice shaky and quieter than you’ve ever heard it.

“i know,” you breathe.

putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder, you smile. “happy now?” you’re barely able to conceal the amusement in your voice.

“mhm.” he hums, eyes still shimmering and glassy, lips in a pout.

“wanna go home?”

“yes, please.”

there’s nothing more that he wanted to do in that moment than take his baby girl to the loving sanctuary he deems the closest thing to heaven, his paradise — and he’s never letting her go.

extra:

“i can’t believe she only has my eyes, though. i guess i’ll just have to try harder next ti — ow! that hurt!”

[no-144444]

the grid: can you fight?

꩜ featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, George Russell, Kimi Antonelli, Alex Albon, Carlos Sainz, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Max Verstappen, Charles LeClerc, Lewis Hamilton, Ollie Bearman, Jack Doohan, Franco Colapinto, & Paul Aron

꩜ banner creds: bronzewasp

Oscar Piastri: nonchalant 

McLaren media days were usually long and boring, and today was no different. Thankfully, they were on the last video, reading thirst tweets? Whatever that meant. Oscar had an ipad open in front of him, and he scrolled past a tweet that read ‘face card is insane’, not really understanding what the meant, but thanking the poster anyway. The next tweet was a picture of you, and a caption, ‘can you fight @.oscarpiastri ?’. Beside the photo of you, was a particularly terrible photo of himself. He stopped, lingering on your photo. It was a photo he knew well, the photo he keeps in his wallet. You, looking like a fucking goddess in a photobooth. Him, looking like a twat. He laughed (probably too hard), and Lando joined in. 

“So this one is a photo of my fiancé, and says ‘can you fight?’,” he explained. “I’d like to think I could hold my own, especially for Y/n,” he chuckled, Lando dying of laughter beside him. “But I probably couldn’t take on all of her fans.” 

“Mate,” Lando wheezed. “You look possessed!”

“I wasn’t, I was just arguing,” he chuckled. Lando’s laughter was becoming offensive now. “I don’t look that bad!”

“Sure mate, sure,” he giggled, wiping his tears away. 

Lando Norris: Crazy town! 

He was busy scrolling on instagram, post after post of you coming up on his feed. He was not complaining. You looked so hot in every single edit, every picture, everyone agreed too. He felt his ego grow. He’d bagged you. He’d convinced you to go out with him. Holy shit. 

One caption caught his eyes though. ‘@.landonorris, can you fight?’. He frowned. Obviously. Of course he could fight. Of course he would fight. You were his girlfriend. 

He did what he did best, and commented. Probably wasn’t the best idea since Zak called him maybe 10 minutes later. 

Oops!

What was the comment, you may ask?

landonorris I can fight and fuck, why do you think she stays with me?

George Russell: actually couldn't care less 

“Can you fight George Russell?” he repeated, reading the caption of the edit. The Mercedes media team giggled behind the camera as Kimi clapped a hand on his shoulder, laughing a little too hard. “I’d hope so, considering this many people want to steal my girlfriend from me,” he chuckled. “Blimey!” he stared at the photo in front of him. It was one of his favourites, one that he’d taken. One where you’d kissed him after he took it, so happy with his work. “I know she’s beautiful, but she is my girlfriend, and the internet should remember that.” 

“Maybe you need to post her more,” Kimi shrugged. 

George rolled his eyes. “Are we really getting to the stage where Kimi is giving me social media advice? What’s he going to do next, take over my instagram for a day?”

“That’s a good idea,” he heard the social media manager mumble. He face-palmed. 

“Anyway, back to the problem at hand,” he cleared his throat. “Yes, I can fight.” 

“No you can’t!” Lando cackled from nearby. 

George just stared at the camera as everyone else laughed.

Kimi Antonelli: logical 

“Can I fight?” he read out the caption of a fan edit of you. He giggled nervously. “Why would I need to? We’re already together.” 

“It’s just something people say online,” George chuckled. “People ask me the same all the time.”

“Well, this person doesn’t even know her, right? How would they think she’d pick them over me?” 

George was laughing now, amused by how literally Kimi was taking this. “Mate, it’s a joke.”

“Well, they posted it!” Kimi argued back. “Clearly they meant something!”

George actually couldn’t respond. He was laughing too much.  “My gosh,” he tutted, scrolling past the post. “She’s my girlfriend.”

Alex Albon: secure 

“‘Can I fight?’, yes, and I will,” his voice was sharp and Carlos giggled beside him. “Y/n is my girlfriend. She wouldn’t choose you anyway, but if we must fight, yes, I would win. Next!” he sassed as he scrolled to the next post. It was another one of you and him, ‘how did he do it?’. He rolled his eyes. “My irresistible charm and handsome face,” he deadpanned to the camera and Carlos was busy dying of laughter beside him. “Next,” he scrolled again, and it was a picture of you and Alex after he proposed to you, ‘if he ever proposed to me in b-board shorts (!!!) and a linen shirt, he’s getting a no’, and he stared at the camera. “Are you fucking joking? What is wrong with that outfit?!” he demanded, as the entire media team doubled over with laughter, Carlos almost falling out of his chair. “People online are too nit-picky these days,” he shook his head.

Carlos Sainz: pisses him off lmao

He rolled his eyes as yet another thirst edit of you with an insanely graphic caption appeared on his tiktok. “Fuck’s sake,” he cursed. Your ears perked up and you started to rub his back again. 

“Alright?” you asked, eyes still on your computer, glued to whatever film you were both meant to be watching, but he’d turned over the look at his phone instead. You hadn’t seemed to mind. 

“Why do all of your fans and mine want to fight me?” he groaned, stretching his arms above his head as he turned around, burying his face in your neck. “Fucking stupid.” 

You giggled. “Not my fault I’m sexy.” 

“All your fault you’re sexy,” he said, muffled by your hoodie. His hand ventured up your hoodie, not uncommon, so you didn’t say anything. “We should release a sex tape or something-”

“Are you fucking crazy?!” you squealed, shoving his hand out from under your top. “Do you want my career to be over?!” 

He shrugged. “People could see just how much you want me,” he moved closer somehow, as you stared back at him, dumbfounded, jaw dropped. He chuckled. “That’s usually how you look when you-”

“Shut up Carlos!

Daniel Riccardo: smug bastard! 

“‘Can you fight?’, yes, but I don’t need to,” he laughed, his smile bright and smug. The photo in front of him was one of you at an Enchanté event, taking pictures with fans. You looked radiant. If only the public knew he took you home and fucked you on the counter the second you tow got in the door. 

“You don’t need to?” Max spurred him on. 

“Nope,” he proudly shook his head. “I’ve got some photos on my phone-”

“Enough!” their media manager shouted, cutting him off. “Stop talking!”

Both of them burst into laughter, doubling over. When they finally calmed down, Daniel winked at the camera. “Don’t worry, I’d never show them.”

Liam Lawson: out of his league

“Yes, I can fight,” he rolled his eyes, scrolling past it, only to be met with another one. You in various posts he’d made, photos he’d taken, days he remembered. He adored you, it was clear to anyone. You were the majority of his insta feed. “I know she’s gorgeous-”

“And out of your league,” Yuki added, smirking. 

Liam’s jaw dropped. “Fuck off!” he laughed. “She is not-! Ok, maybe yeah she is, but come on man,” he chuckled. “Give me a break!” 

“Mate, I’m just being truthful,” he shrugged. “She’s totally out of your league.”

Liam scoffed. “I know! But we don’t have to point it out!”

“I mean, we can though,” Yuki laughed. “We could also mention the fact that she asked you out, and not the other way around.”

“Well I was hardly going to ask her out, she’s out of my league!”

Max Verstappen: annoying

“Why do your fans want to fight me?”he scoffed, throwing his phone down on the bed, between you two. He turned to look at you, and you continued reading. He rolled his eyes and pulled the book out of your hands, much to your dismay. He bookmarked it and placed it on his bedside table, then turned back to you. You were scowling at him. 

“What?” you demanded. 

“Why do your fans want to fight me?” he asked again, his hands reaching for you. 

“I don’t fucking know,” you scoffed. “Give me back my book Max.”

“Come here,” he chuckled, pulling you closer to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs intertwining with his. He pressed his lips to yours, gently, and you melted into him. He loved this, the gentle and slow nights he got with you. Enjoying the silence you gave each other. He pulled back, a smug smile on his lips. “Your fans couldn’t do that.”

You rolled your eyes and reached behind his head, grabbing your book back. “I’d let anyone do that if it meant they wouldn’t steal my book,” you shot back, turning the other way from him. He chuckled and squeezed your ass. 

“Brat,” he smirked. 

You flipped him off in return, but he knew you were smiling. 

Charles LeClerc: so pathetic it’s insane

“I will not fight!” he announced, startling Lewis beside him. They were just meant to be replying to thirst tweets, but he’d fallen down a rabbit hole. He turned his head up to the camera, completely serious. “She chose me! She doesn’t want any of you!”

Lewis started laughing beside him, the hilarity of it all getting to him. 

“She’s my wife! Look!” he held up his ring finger with the golden wedding band you’d placed just mere months ago. He hadn’t taken it off yet. “She loves me!” 

“I think they get it mate,” Lewis chuckled. 

“They better,” he scoffed. “Right, onto the next one!”

Lewis Hamilton: lowkey freaky (actually just sassy!)

“Lewis, can you fight?!” one of the fans cheered from the side of the carpet. He rolled his eyes as you laughed, waving at the fan before starting to walk over there. Not on his watch. He pulled you back by his hand on your wrist and smirked. The crowd roared at the interaction between the two of you. 

“You’re not going over there,” he murmured. 

“I have to see what he’s offering,” you teased, your voice low so as to not be picked up by the hundreds of cameras pointed at the two of you. “Maybe it’s better-”

“Nothing is better than us,” his grip on your waist tightened. “Need me to remind you?”

“You’re talking a lot of game, old man,” you chuckled, kissing his cheek. “Don’t forget your abilities now.” 

He scoffed in your face, his jaw dropping. “Bitch,” he sassed, making you laugh. “Don’t piss me off.”

You acquiesced, kissing his lips before taking his hand and leading him further up the carpet. 

Ollie Bearman: used to it 

“Can you fi-” he cut himself off, scrolling on. “We’re not doing that.” 

“It’s a genuine question Ollie,” Kimi nudged him. Their first interview together since they moved to F1 was meant to be about tweets on Bearelli, but it had quickly sent them down a rabbit-hole of their own girlfriends. 

“Shut up mate,” he scoffed, scrolling again and only finding more and more questions on whether or not he could keep you. Kimi just kept laughing. “You won’t be laughing in a minute when these are about you.” 

Jack Doohan: embarrassed 

Jack had learnt that Pierre was the kind of guy to keep a joke going, but he never thought it’d get this far. They had been looking at thirst tweets, and one of you had come up, asking if Jack could fight, but he’d gone bright red the second your name was mentioned. Pierre cackled beside him as he held his head in his hands, wishing for the world to swallow him up. Come race day, Pierre had hidden print-outs of the tweet all over the Alpine garage. 

“J, why is this on your wall?” you questioned as you held up one of the print-outs. 

He went bright red. Again. 

Franco Colapinto: (shockingly) normal

“So Franco, since you and your girlfriend Y/n have gone public with your relationship, many people on the internet have one question, can you fight?” the host chuckled. 

“Can I fight? Yes, yes I can fight. I don’t need to though, my girlfriend loves me,” he laughed, looking to you. You were so embarrassed, I mean, head-in-hands embarrassed. He continued on, never stopping to think about what he was saying. “No, but I do understand, my Y/n is very beautiful, and I am very lucky. I love her very much. Anyway, most people couldn’t handle her, if you get what I mean.” 

“Well said,” the host laughed, trying to continue with some sort of professionalism. “Got some brownie points there.” 

“Hopefully,” Franco winked at you, as you stood behind the camera, shocked by his statement.

Paul Aron: sassy queen! 

“‘Can I fight’? Have you seen me?” he flexed his arm up, showing off his (huge) arms, as you laughed beside him. He shook his head. “Silly, silly people,” he tutted. “It is a nice photo though, you look very beautiful,” he turned to you. 

“Thanks baby,” you murmured back, scrolling on and only seeing more calls for Paul to step aside and let others in. 

He stared the camera down as you were distracted and mouthed ‘she’s mine’ to the many viewers.

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

mclaren masterlist (OP81 &LN4)

ferrari masterlist (CL16, LH44 & AL65 )

williams & mercedes masterlist (GR63, KA12, CS55 LS2 &AA23)

redbull & vcarb masterlist (MV1, DR3 & LL40)

alpine masterlist (JD7, PA17, FC43)

[sogoodtoheritsvicious]

what a valiant roar, what a bland goodbye

summary: your husband carlos blindsides you by asking for a divorce.

warnings: angst, heartbreak, time skips, eventual fluff, a mistake or two.

vicious speaks: this first chapter was a BEAST omg 😅 it went through several edits until i was finally happy with it. i actually started working on something entirely different when the idea for this grabbed me by the throat 😭 the other fic will be uploaded eventually, don’t worry! just need to get this out of my system. i also want to take a second to thank everyone for the love the scrap of this received 🥹 i really hope you love this version just as much, if not more 💓 happy reading!!

series masterlist

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ynsainz has added to their stories

replies

fan CARLOOOOOS

lilymhe pretty lady 🥰

⤷ ynsainz says you 😍

fan2 MAMÁ Y PAPÁ 🫶🏼

carlossainz55 and i’d do it again 😏

⤷ ynsainz 😝

fan3 ugh y’all are so cute

lando wow i asked him to hang out and he said he was doing stuff

⤷ ynsainz i’m stuff 😁

⤷ lando gross.

⤷ ynsainz 🙂‍↔️

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2m likes

f1gossip BREAKING: carlos sainz has filed for divorce from his wife, actress yn sainz! citing ‘irreconcilable differences’ as the reason for the split. carlos declined to comment but yn released the following statement: “after 12 beautiful years together, carlos has decided to end our marriage. i ask that you please give me privacy during this extremely devastating time.” we’re wishing them both the best.

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fan NO

fan2 NOT MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT COUPLE

fan3 JUST FELL TO MY KNEES IN A WALMART

fan4 screamed so loud my girlfriend thought someone died

fan5 what the fuck he literally just surprised her on set and now he’s filed for divorce??? you really never know what’s going on behind closed doors.

fan6 can’t imagine how yn is feeling 💔

fan7 sleeping on the highway tn.

fan8 is anyone else... not surprised? i'm sorry, i know relationships can't always be perfect but the way he treated her sometimes...

⤷ fan9 they’ll try to silence you but you’re right

⤷ fan10 lowkey think this is a blessing in disguise for her tbh.

fan11 carlos 😃 filed 😃 for 😃 what 😃

fan12 hey! so what the fuck!

fan13 haha f1gossip you’re so funny, april fools was months ago haha

fan14 “carlos has decided to end our marriage” “extremely devastating time” IT WASN’T MUTUAL OH GOD I FEEL SICK

fan15 we love you ynsainz you’ll get through this ❤️

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tmz first look at actress yn sainz since her soon to be ex-husband carlos sainz filed for divorce earlier this week!

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fan this is disgraceful!!

fan2 the way you guys chased her down to get shots of her crying is disgusting

fan3 i hope she sues your asses

fan4 reporting every single account that shares these photos btw

maxverstappen hope you’re ready for a lawsuit.

⤷ fan5 MAX???

fan6 oh you pissed off max you guys are DONE

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yn has added to their close friends story

replies

heidiberger_ i thought you were staying in america a little longer?

⤷ yn i thought so too until max offered to let me stay with him

⤷ heidiberger_ omg? so glad you’re going home 💗 let us know when there’s a good time to get together.

⤷ yn will do 🫶🏼

maxverstappen1 see you soon!

⤷ yn ❤️

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liked by carlossainz55 and others

livherrera what if i told you i’m a mastermind, and now you’re mine? 💙

👤 carlossainz55

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carlossainz55 mi vida 💙

⤷ fan calling her what used to be your nickname for yn? oooh you’re sick

friend you win! 😜

⤷ livherrera 🤭

fan2 oh!

fan3 girl this is not doing what you think it is

lando there’s still time to delete this

⤷ fan4 even lando’s irritated 😭

fan5 being proud of breaking up a happy home isn't cute

⤷ livherrera wasn’t that happy if he’s with me 😌

⤷ fan6 how is this real life

friend2 hot girls always get the last laugh 💁‍♀️

⤷ livherrera exactlyyyy 🙂‍↕️

⤷ fan7 so gross

fan8 always remember that karma’s a bitch

fan9 carlos really left yn for a 22yo who's proudly flaunting the fact that she's a home-wrecker...🫠

fan10 the caption 😐 you’re pathetic!

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carlossainz55 and livherrera

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carlossainz55 mamá and papá can’t wait to meet you, baby sainz ❤️

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13k likes

f1gossip 😳 more than half of the drivers have unfollowed carlos sainz! this comes after he took to his instagram to announce the pregnancy of his girlfriend! some of the drivers include lando norris, max verstappen, lewis hamilton, sebastian vettel, and others.

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fan yn getting the drivers in the divorce just feels right

fan2 oh this is gonna make these rest of the races so interesting

fan3 she's got legends like lewis and seb in her corner, he's fucked.

fan4 it's what he deserves

fan5 i just know the gc is on fire right now

fan6 they better be surrounding our girl with love right now

fan7 not surprised max unfollowed, he’s always been a ride or die for yn

⤷ fan8 is it too soon to say i’ve always shipped them? 🫣

⤷ fan9 so real

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liked by lilymhe and others

ynupdates yn on max verstappen’s story tonight!

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fan FIRST YN SIGHTING IN A MONTH AND IT’S FROM MAX!??

fan2 well this is a plot twist

fan3 was so worried about her :( really glad my girl’s doing okay 🫶

fan4 he saw That announcement and said “🤺 aht! 🤺 aht! 🤺 let me steal the attention back!” and we love to see it 😌

fan5 i know that yn is friends with nearly all the drivers but this was still unexpected

fan6 LILY IN THE LIKES 💞

fan7 guys this is the least surprising thing to happen 😭 that man does not play about her

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taglist: @pansexualdarling @kenkozkmg @lemon-stvrrr @marijas-stuff @fastandcurious16 @glow-ish @slutforpopculture @lechat-rouge @cznctnty @mangotaitai @ravyn94 @ivy-stuffs @alireads27 @thatsojasminesworld @alessa-the-enchantress @lilith-123321 @kuskumu @sleutherclaw @96mcobo @wosof1 @charlesgirl16 @a-beaverhausen @imagine-it-was-us @chlodavids @hymntostars @ivegotparticulartaste @mochimommy2002 @minmira95 @gem1712

[everlastingserenitys]

SMILE FOR THE PICTURE <3

summ. you asked the best photographer in your school to help take pictures of you for your project, not take a video of you guys doing it!

pairing. Caleb x f!reader cw. nerd!caleb, p in v, fingering, masturbation, recording during sex, creampie, dirty thoughts, kissing, handjob, college au, petnames, dirty talk, kitchen sex, 3.7k wc (wtf omg) a/n. hello yes this is kiindaa based off this post ... I just added a tiny switch up hehe

“Is that all you need help with?” Caleb asked, his eyes darting around the library and back at you.

“Please Caleb?”

A tired sigh escaped his lips, he pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head in disbelief, “So what you’re saying is that you want me to take pictures of you for your project?”

You nod.

“I don’t believe it, why do you need me?”

An annoyed sigh escaped your lips and you leaned in closer, being just centimeters away from his face.

“I heard you’re the best photographer and editor, so I need someone to help me so I can pass the class… so, please, just help me this one time?”

Caleb lightly rolled his eyes and stared at you before agreeing, “fine I’ll do it—but I’ll need something in return.”

“I’ll give you anything, Alright? I’ll email you some of my photos and then we can move on from there.” You say, sliding over a scrap piece of paper with your email displayed on it and walked off.

You didn’t even let him speak the second you skipped away from him and headed over to your little friends, giggling and loudly walking yourself out the library, practically announcing to everyone that you’re leaving.

Caleb glared at your figure already leaving the library and sighed against his seat, at least he’ll have something to do for the night.

As the day progressed Caleb was already in his dorm, studying for his other subjects. It was late in the evening and he had totally forgotten about the little deal you made with him, until he heard a crackle sound beneath him.

An exasperated sigh left his lips and he reached in his pocket for the tiny piece of paper with your email on it, he rested it in front of him as his fingers instinctively started typing away on his laptop.

Without realizing or reading over what he had written, the email had already been sent to you. Caleb panicked and tried to find out how to edit, or even delete to send it again, but when nothing was popping up he closed his laptop and attempted to distract himself before you responded.

A few minutes passed and a ding blared through Caleb's laptop. A shaky sigh escaped his lips before he carefully opened up his laptop and checked his emails. He refreshed countless times until, finally your response loaded up.

Caleb read the reply out loud and hovered his cursor over the pdf files of multiple photos you sent, “‘hey these are the photos’, yada yada…mmh alright.” After a second of hesitating he finally brought the courage to click on the photos.

And they were…beautiful.

Caleb was starstruck. He scrolled through the five photos you sent and inspected every single one, eyeing every perfect curve, your pretty eyes, practically just admiring you.

He never really talked to you, mainly because he thought you wouldn't talk to him if he tried talking to you first, but when you stepped up and spoke to him first, Caleb felt like it had to be a prank. Whether it was for the project or not, he didn't mind it, in fact, he’d probably want to work with you again, if he could.

He exited out of the pictures, getting ready to write his reply when he noticed you sent something else. Only captioning the file with ‘and a little surprise for you <3 you look like you’d be into this so i hope this gives you a little motivation !!’

Curious, Caleb clicked on the file without thinking and immediately regretted it. Well, was it regret? Definitely not. Caleb’s perverted eyes scanned at every part of the scandalous photo you sent. He brought his shaky hands to his mouse and instinctively started zooming in on every part.

“Damn it.” he murmured, squirming around his chair as he tried to hold himself back from touching himself, even though the last time he actually masturbated to someone was years before his third year in college, he didn't want to just break the streak when he knows damn well you will leave him once this project was over.

But one time wouldn't hurt, right? I mean, he was practically aching down there.

Caleb brought his fingers to the waistband of his shorts and played with it as he imagined different dirty scenarios with you. He eventually slid his fingers under his shorts, grabbing onto his hard, searing length, wrapping his cold fingers around it. He pumped his fist in a quick motion, staring at your picture through his already teary eyes, captivating every pixel he could see through his blurry vision.

“Ah-shit..” he whined, bucking his hips forward and soon brought his other hand to his cock, pretending it was yours. That thought just turned him on even more and he was practically trying everything to hold himself back from coming too early.

He glanced back at the picture, his glasses were slightly slipping off his nose but he didnt care. He yanked his head back, his pace going even quicker on himself and he was so, soo, clo–

“Fuck..”

Spurs of white pellucid mixture dripped out of Caleb, most of it getting on his desk and papers all over the desk. He breathed heavily as his violet eyes stared into in the ceiling, rethinking his fucking choices.

A few minutes passed and Caleb took a cold shower and eventually cleaned up himself, and the desk. He sat back on desk, reopening his laptop and quickly went to reply to your email. God, he was worried how he was going to face you the next day.

His fingers hovered over the light keys illuminating through his laptop, a response was stuck somewhere in the back of his head but he couldn't bring it back to him. He pondered for a moment, his mind spiraling with many, many thoughts, none of them were recollecting what he was going to say.

Caleb let out an annoyed groan and hit his head on his desk repeatedly. He’ll just respond tomorrow, when his mind was cleared out.

The next day after his classes were over, Caleb headed to the library to study for a bit. He put his ear buds in and started reading his book. But as he was too distracted by the gibberish of numbers and letters that somehow keeps him captivated the whole time he's studying, he didn't notice a presence in front of him.

A minute passed, and he still didn't notice. That was until someone yanked his earbuds off which caused Caleb to flinch dramatically. He looked up to see who disturbed his peace, about to stand up for himself until he realized it was you.

“What..”

“Why’d you not respond last night?”

Caleb's face flushed in a light pink tone, but he remained calm, a small smirk rested on his lips as he was trying to think of an excuse on the spot. He couldn't just tell you that he got off at the seductive picture you totally sent to rile him up with.

“I was too tired to, sorry. But I saw everything you sent.”

“You did?” you grin, leaning in closer as you stared into his eyes.

“Mhm, everything.”

“Did you like the surprise picture?” you said, a hint of teasing laced in your voice as you watched for Caleb's reaction. He was trying to act tough so badly, but you noticed how difficult it was for him to keep up the tough act and that just made you want to push his limits even further.

“Caleb?” you whisper.

Caleb’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down the second you whispered his name and he avoided your gaze, “..yeah.” he mumbled, his voice dropping five octaves deeper. You smile and pull away from him, looking down at him before shrugging.

“If you read the email–which I doubt you did–I told you to come over to my place tonight to take some practice pictures.”

“Practice? Wait, when did you even say that?” Caleb frantically started typing on his computer and pulled out the email. Embarrassment washed through his whole face when he read the first email which he totally ignored.

“I see…”

“Uh huh, the pictures I sent you last night were for reference, you know? How you’re going to take them and etcetera.” you fan your hands at him and Caleb stared at you for a good minute before nodding and closing his laptop, notebook, everything lying on the desk.

“Why’re you packing up right now?”

“Well? Why don’t we start early? I have studying to do and I don't want to spend the whole night taking pictures of you.”

You open your mouth, hesitant to say something but when no words could get out, you zipped your lips shut and turned around, walking yourself out of the library. You took small glances to see if Caleb was actually following you, when you noticed he was just a few meters away, you nodded to yourself and continued to walk to your place.

A ten minute walk later both you and Caleb end up at the front door of your apartment. You grab the keys from your purse and turn around, looking at Caleb while the key is shoved deep in the keyhole.

“Wait here, and do you have your camera?”

Caleb nods and rests his shoulder against the wall next to him. You nod and head inside your place. Caleb assumed you were cleaning it up so he leaned back and patiently waited as the sounds of shuffling and stuff moving around were getting louder and louder by the second.

A few minutes pass and you open the door letting Caleb in. Caleb looked around your whole place, his eyes darting on every piece of furniture that was definitely your style, and soon averting his gaze to the large window that showed off the view from outside.

It was already close to sunset and the lighting looked amazing to take pictures with. Caleb brought out his camera and tried turning it on when his worst nightmare happened.

“Dead?”

“Dead.”

A minute of silence echoed through the room, you and Caleb looked at each other before awkwardly chuckling at each other.

“I have a charger, be right back.” you say.

Caleb nodded and sat against your kitchen counter, fidgeting the camera around his fingers before you came back and slid the charger to him. He nodded in appreciation and quickly went to put his camera to charge.

“What should we do now?” Caleb asked, glancing at you then back at his camera.

You ponder for a moment then an idea lights up in your head, “Come, i’ll show you more of my photos so you can get an idea on what to do.” you unwillingly grab onto Caleb's wrist and drag him to your bedroom.

Which looked fairly normal, a little basic. Just a desk consisting of two monitors lying on it, a bookshelf, and your bed. You drag Caleb to your desk and you plop on the chair, unlocking your monitor in a quick movement and pulling out your camera roll.

“Some pictures may be weird so don't mind it, okay?”

Caleb nodded and glued his eyes to your monitor.

As the time went on and you were showing dozens upon dozens of photos to him, that's when your camera roll started to look a little too explicit and Caleb swore you were doing it on purpose.

“Oh whoops!” you giggle, letting Caleb quickly look at the explicit pictures of you, and at this point he wasn’t complaining. He wasn’t going to show that he liked it, but something else was about to shatter him from this nonchalant persona.

He watched you scroll through the pictures as his bottom half felt numb. Caleb looked at the bottom of the camera roll and noticed you were almost at the end of it, just a few more pictures to go and he could go to the bathroom to fix the problem down there.

When you finally showed the last picture Caleb nodded and enthusiastically told you how he knew exactly what he was doing and started backing away from your desk. You raise an eyebrow and get up from your seat walking behind him.

“Where's the bathroom?” Caleb asked, looking left and right at the two different hallways that could lead to anywhere. You peered your head up and brushed past him, but mistakenly stumbled over his shoelace and grabbed onto his thigh to catch yourself.

“Cal–uh..”

Your eyes widened and you looked up at Caleb's flushed look and down to your hand which was not on his thigh.

“Don’t move, please…” he mumbled, covering half his face with his hand as he carefully stepped back, but he was too much in a haze to even focus. He tripped on himself and stumbled against you again, making your hand practically rub on his boner.

“Shit…”

“You said you wanted something in return, why don’t I give you the favor right now and then you could take my pictures, how’s that?” you say, looking up at caleb who was still flushed bright red at the situation happening at the moment.

“I- fine..” he nodded and you smiled, sliding your fingers under his pants, slowly pulling them down and stare at his leaking bulge imprinting his boxers. Eventually, you pull his boxers down and let his cock spring out and, Fuck.

You wrap your fingers around his length and pump your fist in a slow, rhythmic movement, letting Caleb savour the time. Loud whines filled the room and you continued the same pace as you watched his reaction.

“Mo–ngh”

“Hmm?”

“More..” he breathed, Caleb's fingers slid in your hair and he pulled your head up so you could look at him. “Please.”

You smirk and fasten the pace on him, after one hand starts getting tired, you bring your other one and do the same movements to his cock. Both your hands were on his hard, sticky length. With one hand circling around the tip and the other pumping his full length Caleb was practically moaning like a virgin.

You slick your thumb on his tip and leaned in closer, about to make your mouth get put to use but Caleb stopped you and shook his head, “not yet..,‘m close” he groaned, his voice echoed through the room which sent shivers down your spine.

“You’re close? Then why don’t you hold it in.” you challenge, pulling your hands away from his cock and staring up at caleb who looked like he was going to die without the feeling of your hands on his.

“Hold it in, can you do that?” you whisper, getting up from your knees and leaned in closer, your hot breath ghosted against Caleb's skin. But Caleb couldnt even spit out any words, his eyes flicker on yours and before you could tease him further he crashed his lips on yours.

Caught off guard, you reciprocate the kiss and push him further against the wall, grabbing onto the sides of his face as you push yourself closer against him. Your bodies were practically molded together and Caleb lightly bit on your lip when he felt you grinding yourself against him.

His fingers made their way to your waist and soon snaked down to your pants, toying with the edges of it before pulling them down. His fingers slid lower on your body and soon reached your soaking, dripping cunt.

He slid a finger inside you and stroked a slow, deliberate pattern, stimulating and stretching you out before he put his cock inside you. He was holding himself back so bad but he lets the last drops of self control drip down him before he rams his cock inside you.

“Let me…” Caleb whispered, pulling his fingers out of you and stared at the mess coated on his fingers. You grunt and press yourself against him, he takes it as an indication that he can put himself inside you and without thinking he does it right away.

“urgh w-wait–” before you could tell Caleb to go to your bed or another room he lifted you up and pressed his tip against your soaking entrance, slowly pushing himself inside. He wasn't even a quarter in and you felt like you were full, you cling onto him as he lifts your body up and down on his cock.

“K-kitchen” you moan, burying your head on his shoulder. Caleb nods and effortlessly walks towards the kitchen with half his length inside you. You felt him press you against the counter and slightly pull himself away so he could see your face.

Caleb stared at you with love and lust filled in his eyes, his glasses were barely on him, his eyes were teary, and fuck he still looked like a beauty. You yanked your head back when you felt him sink deeper inside you, his tip practically hitting every right spot, and you felt like you were in heaven.

You wink your eyes open and get used to your surroundings again and notice the camera was still charging next to you. Caleb watched your every move as you picked up the camera and flicked it on. It beeped for a moment and flashed unlocked.

When the camera was on you smiled and glanced at Caleb who was too much in a daze to know what you were doing and angle the camera directly at his beautiful face. You coo his name and he averted his gaze to the camera that was in your hands.

“Smile.” you manage to get out and notice Caleb smirk before you flash a picture. Your eyes widened as you clicked the picture and he looked heavenly. Caleb chuckled as he continued to ram himself in and out of you, using one of his hands to grab the camera.

“Let me see.” he murmured, resting his fingers on yours which were still on the camera. You carefully gave him the camera and he examined the photo, a menacing chuckle escaped his lips and he shook his head, “don’t I look great?” he chuckled.

“Mhm”

“Yeah?”

You nod again and Caleb angled the camera to you, his hands, which were once shaky weren't shaky anymore and he looked at you before looking back into the camera screen.

“Smile for the picture.”

Before you could let out a smile you felt Caleb shove his full length deep, deep inside you. A wave of shock went through you and you heard the camera shutter when you noticed he took a picture of an expression you made that was most definitely not a smile.

“That’s a good–mmph e-expression! Shit, do it again.” he whined, continuing to ram himself deep inside you, the impact of his hard tip abusing your cervix sent you to a spiral, you stared at Caleb through teary eyes and shook your head.

“Come on, baby.” he begged, still having the camera aimed at you. A loud moan escapes your lips and you roll your hips against Caleb’s. Caleb let out a low whistle and lowered the camera to the view of his cock buried balls deep inside you.

“Look at t-that..” he chuckled, slowing the pace down. He was already close to release and he didn't want to pull away. Caleb kept the camera at the same angle it was at before and brought his other hand to your stretched out cunt, placing his thumb against the clit as he stretched it out and watched the mess pool out of you.

“You’re recording? A-and you-?!” you couldn't even get any more words out. Caleb nodded and apologized repeatedly.

“I'm sorry.. It was on a-accident” he coughed, shaking the camera around as he slowly started pulling himself out of you. The sounds of the slick seeping out of you filled the room and it just turned Caleb on even more, when he was just almost the tip out of you, Caleb angled the camera from your lower half to your face and thrusted himself back into you.

His pace was quick and his moans grew louder at every thrust he gave. Caleb was practically over the moon and the feeling was just something he wished to experience again. Caleb placed the camera down on the counter and aimed it where you both were in frame.

“Can you handle one more–y-yes? Or no?” he asked, leaning in closer to your face, his breath tickling on your warm skin, you nod and Caleb chuckled, lifting your legs over his shoulders and thrusted himself one more time.

“That's good, might as well go until the camera dies again, should we, baby?”

You didn't know how many rounds you both did, you were almost going to pass out midway through sex but Caleb somehow calmed you down and you stayed awake, didn’t pass out once no matter how many times he filled you up, it was like he was magic.

Both you and Caleb just finished getting cleaned up and you both were back at the kitchen. He held onto his camera as he went through the multiple photos and videos he took, the longest video being about an hour and a half long, which resulted in the camera dying just the second before you were going to cum.

Caleb smirked as he looked through the photos and one photo caught him by surprise, he inspected the photo and flipped the camera towards you. “You look good in this.” he said, as a death piercing gaze was locked on you.

“I’m practically clothless in that, what's so special about it?”

“You can keep it for your album of those types of photos…” he shrugged, turning the camera back towards him and looking at the photo again. You shrug and that's when you realized.

“We haven't taken my practice pictures yet!”

“Well, can you still do it, or should I come back tomorrow?” Caleb grinned, stepping towards you and stared into your eyes with a teasing look.

“Let's get it over with, today.”

Caleb frowned, “Okay one second,” He said, angling the camera at you again.

“Smile.”

part 2 of fly into your heart -> next work

[thoughtsforsoob]

how ateez shows their gf princess treatment <3

note: I hope this work finds you well! I really want to make this look good so please let me know if anything should be edited. Thank you and please enjoy. 

hongjoong

you're his PRINCESS! he takes it so seriously too. he puts a ring on your finger as soon as possible and treats you like actually royalty. is at your beck and call 24/7. his fsvorite thing to do is take you to events and show you off to all his friends and colleagues. "this is my wife. isn't she so beautiful? shes so smart and talented too." will show you off to anywhere and everyone. he's just so in love with you. he also let's you into his studio and has a special chair for you and plenty of pillows and blankets.

seonghwa

dresses you up in the finest clothing ever. sure, if you already have your clothes that you like that arent from any big name brands, he's not gonna toss them out or anything. he's only going to add your collection. designer bags, clothes, shoes, and even glasses if you wear them. he'll deck you out in only the more coveted brands.

yunho

he will turn off any game for you at any time if you ask for his attention. he wouldn't do this for anyone else but you. you're his special princess so you take priority over his games. he also teaches you all about his hobbies and take you to all the cool pop up's and museums. if you want anything, he always makes sure to get it for you.

yeosang

takes care of you with everything! literally everything. he may be a busy idol but he makes sure you take your vitamins, do your morning and night routines, take a little bit of personal time, and everything else. if you're studying, he'll make sure you take a break. he'll run your a warm bath and make you something to eat after. he gives mother hen vibes but it's not in an annoying, naggy way. he just loves you and want's to make sure you're healthy.

san

picks you up and carries you everywhere. he's so strong and he loves showing off his strength to you. if you're siting on the couch, minding your own business, he'll throw you over his shoulder and take you up to your shared bed room. he also carries everything for you, especially shopping or grocery bags. his princess should never carry anything.

mingi

buys everything for you! mingi needs a gf that is okay with him paying for everything but he will literally lose it if you pay for him. he has the mindset that dudes should pay for everything and take care of their partners, but it's not like in a toxic way where he won't let you work or anything. he would just prefer that your money goes towards spoiling yourself (although you never need to because he spoils you so much).

wooyoung

i have two for him so hang on tight. wooyoung is such a romantic and i cannot express that enough, first of all, he drives you everywhere! he would rather get hit by a train than let you ride the said train all alone. if he can drive you, he is going to drive you. also...he lovesss taking you on 3-4 day trips around the world. he takes you to paris, tokyo, la, Shanghai....everywhere! takes care of everything too. ugh i want my own wooyoung (im so scared of driving please drive me!)

jongho

he lets you sit on his lap. even if you get shy or complain that you're too heavy. he lterally does not care. he will pull you down onto his lap and bear hug you so you can't get up or leave. he thinks you look so cute and just like a princess when you're sitting on his lap.

[fictionalmenxyn]

hi can you write rafe x wife. Happily married and have 3 teen kids. Sons friends comes over and talks about mom as milf( idk maybe something else up to u) and Rafe and his wife hear it! Then Rafe f*cks her

of course I can!!

•———•

ఌ𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧ఌ

Pairing: husband!rafe x wife!reader

Warnings: SMUT, language, p in v, fingering, no mentions of protection (be safe, wrap it before u tap it!), breeding kink, dirty talk, possessive/jealous Rafe.

Feel free to send more reqs! Thinking of doing dad!Rafe so send me things you’d like to see! Or more husband!rafe idm! Anything!

🝮🝮🝮

Just getting home from work, you got out of your Range Rover. Collecting your handbag, laptop and some papers from the back seat.

You headed into yours and Rafe’s estate. Walking through the front door. You already knew your three sons had friends over. Your eldest, Cody had asked you over text. You slip your heels off by the door and walk through the large foyer and over to the spacious living room. You smiled as you saw your boys Cody (17), Morgan (16) and Ollie (14 1/2). You spoke “hey boys, you all having fun?” They all said their “heys” and “yeah, thanks”.

You subtly noticed the way their friends eyed you up. Teenage boys never really cared if you saw them checking woman out. Well, these lot didn’t. You looked over to the attached large kitchen, smiling as you see Rafe.

You walked over, putting your things onto the counter. Rafe was leaning forward. His elbows on the counter as he watched the tv from the kitchen as your sons and their friends had soccer on. You walked over to Rafe. Smiling as you put your hand on his back. “Hey, love, you ok?” He turns his head to look at you. His famous grin plastered on his face. “Yeah, all good, how’s work?” He pulls you by the waist. Giving you a soft but firm kiss, showing you how much he missed you since you left this morning. You pull away to answer “good, made some great photos today, all I have to do is change the lighting and tone..” he smiled and pecked your lips “good, can I watch it while you do it?”

Rafe loved what you did. You were a photographer for models, perfume/jewellery commercials or fashion designers. You took the photos and edited them to put on magazines or advertisements. He loved how much you enjoyed your job to.

You nodded “of course, Rafey” he smiled “good girl..” you pecked his cheek.

You sat at the island counter, going through the photos on your laptop. As Rafe leaned against the counter, arms crossed, taking the occasional sip from his drink.

You both overheard Cody and his friend talk. His friend, Jack, asked “dude, is that your older sister or something?” Cody asked “who?” Jack replied “the one that’s in the kitchen with your dad.” Cody shook his head “nah man, that’s my mom.” Jack replied “no fucking way?? She’s so hot, dude, your mom is such a milf, no joke.”

Rafe practically chocked on his drink, as your eyes widen and press your hand to your forehead. A quiet gasp escaped your lips. What did Jack just say? You couldn’t be going mad, Rafe heard the same thing.

Cody spoke “shut up! Don’t say that!” Jack shrugged nonchalantly “dude, I’m just saying, I’d tap that if I could.”

Your eyes widen, Rafe’s jaw clenched. Rafe didn’t need to be and wasn’t jealous… not exactly… he just didn’t like the fact that a seventeen year old friend of your sons had just said that about you… his wife, the mother of his children, his childhood friend, his lover…

Through the rest of the day, Rafe stuck to your side. You’d changed into some sweats and a crop top. Once you were done you both sat on the couch; Rafe next to you. He had his arm around you the whole time. Occasionally kissing your cheek or temple. Showing the boys, your his. He’s the one that put that beautiful diamond ring on your finger. He’s the one that put three beautiful and handsome boys in you. He helped you create life. He’s the one that gives you happiness.

🝮🝮🝮

Soon after, the sun started to set. Your three sons had asked both Rafe and yourself if they could stay the night at one of the boys house. Rafe agreed and told them to be safe and have fun.

As soon as he had shut that front door. You were in for a real treat tonight. Rafe walked back over to the couch. He put his one knee on the seat and he placed a hand on the side of your neck. His cold metal of his rings and watch press gently into your warm neck. He crashes his lips into yours like a starved man. His tongue quick to be shoved into your mouth. You knew what he was up to. You could tell it from the exact moment Cody’s friend said what he said about you.

You knew Rafe since day one, knew him better than he knew himself. So you knew what he was doing. And you were definitely not complaining.

Rafe placed one hand one your thigh and guided you so you laid back on the couch. While he stayed on top of you. He groaned against your lips. He mumbled “‘m gonna make you feel so good, baby” you gasped softly when you feel Rafe’s hips press against yours. He puts his free hand from your thigh, moving it to the waistband of your sweats.

Putting his hand down your sweats he could feel the material of your panties and your soft, wet skin. He groaned “you wearing the black lace ones?” You nodded. He grinned “all f’me…mine” you mumbled “yes, Rafey…”

His fingers slowly move up and down against your heat. You moaned softly. You gasp when you felt his middle finger slip in. He tilted his head and started to kiss along your neck. He groaned, his finger slowly pulling in and out. As he inhaled the sent of your vanilla perfume, he groaned once again. He mumbled against your soft skin “feel so good on my finger, want another, babe?” You nodded. He replied “words. y/n.” You whispered “another, please, Rafe” he slipped his ring finger in. Causing you to gasp softly.

After a few more seconds he pulled his fingers out. You whimpered, he grinned “oh we aren’t done, just wanna take you upstairs… prefer the bed.” Your mouth practically waters as you watch him move his fingers to his mouth. Cleaning you off his digits.

He picks you up, over his shoulder. Taking you upstairs and not wasting anymore time.

Placing you down on the bed, he was quick to take your clothes off. All piece of clothing on the floor. While he starts to take his off, you watched in awe. Your reaction to him will always be the same. It’s like looking at him for the first time, over and over. You never got tired of him. Never have and never will.

You watched as he was swift to remove his boxers. His huge length springing free. He moved onto the bed. His lips go to yours as his hand moves to his length. Pumping it a few times, then lining up with your entrance. You gasp as he started to push in. Once he was all the way in he leaned over you. His chain dangles by your chin. His hands either side of your shoulders. His biceps flex as he looks down at you.

“You’re so pretty under me, sweetheart.” You moaned softly as he slowly started to move in and out. He chuckled lowly “you know, what the boys said… was right..” he groaned. “You are a milf… my milf… such a hot momma, baby… I know you want another… want me to give you one?” You moaned as he picked up the pace a little more. “Words, sweetheart.” You nodded “yes, fuck! Want another…”

He moaned hearing your words, “fuck Y/n, I’ll give you another… I’ll fill you up, make your baby bump come back. Love you baby bumps… every one of them…” you moaned. His one hand moves to your lower stomach, pushing on the bulge on your lower abdomen. Causing you to moan, as he goes deeper.

He picks up his pace, he moaned “fuck, gonna make you pregnant again. Wanna see you with my baby in you again.” He goes harder. “Fuck can feel you round me, that make you excited, baby? Thinking of me getting you pregnant again?”

You nodded, grabbing onto his bicep. Nails digging into his tan skin. He groans at the feeling. He spoke “gonna give ya a girl this time, I wanna girl, so I can spoil you both, yeah? Let you two have the world.” You moan “oh Rafey!” He grinned. “Yeah? Like that?” You nodded. He leaned back. Grabbing your hips, guiding you against him as he thrusts into you.

He can feel your close, “gonna come f’me? Let me have it, sweetheart. You do that f’me and I’ll do it for ya..” you placed your hand on his chest. Then holding his chain. Wanting him closer, he knew you well. He knew that meant you were about to finish. He leaned down. You moaned “fuck, gonna-” “do it, finish over my cock f’me, love…” those words hit you like a brick wall. Every. God. Damn. Time.

And he knew it too.

You moaned one last time, then finishing. Causing you to tighten around him. He chased his realise and finished inside you.

He moaned as he slowed his pace. Still thrusting, just slowing down. Chasing both of your climaxes. Once he came to a spot. You had you usual ‘thank you’. He kissed both cheeks, then your forehead, temples, chin, nose and then your lips. He mumbled against your lips “you ok? Feel good, baby? You did so good..” You nodded “so good.”

He gently pulled out, causing you both to inhale sharply. He gently picked you up. Going ahead and doing your aftercare. For all the time you both knew each other. And past Rafe, with his many hook ups. Not once did he do aftercare. But for you? His childhood friend to girlfriend to fiancée to wife to mother of his children?

He’d give you the world, he’d kill for you. Protect you. Die for you, live for you. He’d do anything for you. Even if it’s as simple as aftercare. He loves you. You love him.

🝮🝮🝮

[lustlovehart]

Weapons I think the Monster Reversed!Cast would have. This is just for me to keep track + World building. I looove world building, guys! This all started because I was writing something else 😭. Edit: This was just supposed to be a list, Idk why I wrote so much.

Featuring: Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Cater, Trey, Leona, Jack, Ruggie, Azul, Floyd, Jade, Kalim, Jamil, Vil, Epel, Rook, Idia, Malleus, Silver, Sebek, Lilia, Reader, Rollo, Fellow, Skully, Neige, Chenya

CW: Monster!Reader has an interest in [character], hints of possession, slight fluff, violence, weapons, some parts have Reader eating a person/monster, Reader breaks into bedrooms, stitching (Neige), Reader isn't heavily hunted by MH!Cast/Neutral truce?, threats, biting, Reader doesn't speak in full sentences

MH!Riddle - Sword, one adorned with beautiful detailing, made of scarlet iron. It gives off some sort of righteous vibe, and he'd prefer it simply because swords were used by knights to uphold the law before monsters grew in population. You saw him taking out a couple of beasts while eating some poor sap. It was kind of mesmerizing watching him swing the thing with such practiced ease. You had to leave, but the sense of disappointment that you couldn't watch more lingered. You broke into his room and saw the sword by his side. A little obsessive, however, his work is so pretty, you don't mind. "Red hair... Fight... Really pretty..." He opens his eyes and stares at where you once were, his mouth agape, and he processes what you said. The trainings afterwards consist of him asking Jamil and Vil how to use his weapon in both elegance and functionality. Next time you see him fight, he makes sure to put his practice to good use. He also tries purposefully outshining everyone else. By the time anyone else tries talking to you, he's shooing you off before they get the chance, insisting he'll show you more if you ignore everyone else.

MH!Ace - Twin-Blade. I'd like to think that because he's so good with his hand, he can spin that thing like crazy. He most definitely tries flaunting his skills to everyone, even more so when you're around. The moment he senses you somewhere in the dark on a mission, the number of times he spins, swings, and hits the beast increases by three. He's using both sides of the blade with such practiced ease, the others on the hunt are wondering why he didn't join sooner (Deuce knows what he's doing, because he can smell you too.) By the time he's done, he's already looking into the shadows, hoping you'll be smiling with praise...! You're not there. He's deflating with disappointment and is ready to go back to the headquarters before someone screams. Honestly? He's kind of over it, but he readies his blade anyway. He's about to chuck his weapon and go home, before Deuce gasps. That's different. Even more so when he drops his gauntlets and takes a few steps forward, finally earning Ace's curiosity. He turns—You're inches from his face. "... Showoff... But... Fun."... Ace goes back with a pep in his step while everyone else broods. As long as your attention is on him, he doesn't mind at all.

MH!Deuce - Gauntlets. You’ve seen him wreck a couple of monsters real good with them. He swings so fast that a regular person could never predict where his next punch is coming from. People have tried, but they've never succeeded. He's so absorbed in his training that whenever you appear, he always seems to almost hit you. He'll redirect it last minute. The first time you suddenly showed up right in front of him, he couldn't move his fist in time. His mind is racing with panic at the prospect of hitting you. It's what he wished for in the beginning, but... Now? If he sees you in pain, he might as well be punching himself, too. No one or no thing has ever managed to dodge—Oh hey, you caught it!... You caught it?! Other than a slight wince in pain, you don't seem too bothered... Though to be fair, he didn't put his all into that, and you know that. You only feel a slight pain on your palm, yet Deuce is sitting you down and tending to it like you've been wounded. Any time any other hunter comes close, he warns them to stay away. A part of you thinks that's due to more than just your hand...

MH!Cater - A Mace. It's a good contrast. Mostly because monsters don't expect to see Cater with one due to his bubbly exterior. You surely didn't. He combats it with paint, making the handle a little prettier. You're not sure if it really works, considering it's still a spiky pall of metal he swings at beasts. You snuck in while he was sleeping, with a makeshift keychain, and stuck it on the handle. You're not sure if it suits his taste, but it doesn't matter. He's trying to kill you anyway (That's what you think), might as well have a pretty weapon do you in. When he wakes up, his room smells like you, and he knows exactly where that gift came from. The next time you witness him fighting, he's talking about just how adorable his mace is now! Everyone else isn't too surprised about his before... It's just a little unnerving to watch him do it while fighting some giant beast.

MH!Trey - a Shotgun. He wields it in such a way that it makes it seem like he doesn't wish to shoot it. He'll use the back of the gun to hit monsters before using the barrel on them like a guillotine. He only ever uses it when necessary. You're amazed it hasn't broken. But to be fair, that's due to your efforts. He doesn't know (He does. He just plays innocent) that you're the one fixing it up while he sleeps. Though... You're methods aren't exactly the correct way to fix a gun; he still uses it with pride. The only time he's broken the act of feigning slumber is when you tried eating a match to use your mouth as a blowtorch. There was a small crack you believed you could meld together. He was initially worried for your safety... His worry seems to have been misplaced when he sees you actually do it. "Huh... I didn't think that would work..." You blow a small puff of smoke his way, earning a heartfelt smile. He still pretends to sleep, but that's because every time he does, he can feel you blow fire at him. If he imagines hard enough, it's like a kiss to his forehead.

MH!Leona - A Battle Axe. It's not too heavy, but it packs enough damage for him to slice something down real quick. Not too heavy is an understatement, however, as it's not too heavy for him. Most of the other people who try can only lift it for a few seconds before dropping it. Luckily, you're not a part of the most. You were probably taking a bite of some low-ranking troll when he appeared out of nowhere. You throw the piece of meat away while you furrow your eyebrows at him. He's obviously annoyed with something; you can see it in the way he snarls. You can't ask what's wrong, though, because his head is on your lap before you can sound it out. The axe propped on the tree trunk next to you falls down, and he's about to lunge back up before it hits you (He's not ready for you to die), you've already caught it. Your hand bleeds from holding it by the blade. The rest of the day is him secretly admiring you while your hand plays with his hair. He'll never admit that, however.

Monster & MH!Jack - A War Hammer. He'd probably like the challenge of having to build up his muscles to hold and swing it around. When you first saw him wield it (MH), which was after a year of knowing him (He never told you what he wielded before), he felt pride swell at the way your mouth dropped in amazement at him holding such a giant thing. When you see him wield it as a monster, he definitely swung it at you, and only missed because you dodged it like nothing. Ever since you kept in mind not to let that thing hit you, because he cracked the boulder next to you, 6 times your size, with ease. After finally getting to know you, he sees the way your eyes linger on his hammer. He makes sure not to bring it whenever you two are together. In the cases where you appear during a mission, he'll drop the weapon and start fighting with his fists. He doesn't want to send his hammer your way.

MH!Ruggie - Throwing stars. He has a multitude of different kinds, with different shapes and sizes. Sometimes you can see him dip it in different substances. You can see him use a blow dart too sometimes. The sight of a different person's name on it, though, tells you it's not originally his. You confront him about it when he opens his bedroom door to see you hanging upside down from his window. The shock of your appearance has him dropping all the boxes he was previously holding, earning a curse under his breath. He watches you play with both the blow dart and his throwing stars before finally asking why you're here. Ruggie rushes towards the window, watching you drop from above. But you effortlessly land on the ledge, earning a relieved exhale from his lips. He was entirely ready to catch you. "Stolen...?" So that's what this is about. He tells you it's not stolen; he simply gave it a better home. The person who had it before seemed to not care for it much if they just left it there. He can tell you don't believe him by the way your brows furrow. His eyes widen when his own throwing stars rush by him, you being the perpetrator. He's about to ask what that was for, but you're leaning in, catching his words in his throat. "I'll get... Ruggie better one..."

MH!Azul - Trident. But he's fully capable of wielding heavy weapons like Jack and Leona's. He just... Can't hold them for very long. He gets tired too easily. His strength is amazing, you're just shocked at how lacking his stamina is. He's second only to Idia. On solo missions, you tag along, and he does everything in his power to avoid eye contact. Not because he wishes to not look at you, no, that's one of the few things he wishes to do. It's because... He's currently using his weapon as a cane to go up the mountain. He had no idea...! This ruins the atmosphere he wished to have with you on this job...! How is he supposed to play the part of a gentleman when he can barely make it up this mountain while you're walking along as if this isn't torture? He stiffens when he feels a presence next to him, ready to warn you to step away. By the time he looks though, it turns out to be you... His sense is so scrambled he can't make out what's a threat... "Carry... Azul?" He couldn't possibly. He has pride; he refuses. His posture straightens, and he acts as if he's regained all his energy. You don't believe him, but you watch him remove that trident from the floor and carry it like the true hunter he is. You can't help but tease him for the sudden shift. "... Azul is... Strong... Maybe... Can carry me too?"... He carries you bridal style all the way up the mountain, all of his fatigue seemingly gone. You have no idea how he did it...

MH!Floyd - A kusarigama. He might be one of the few hunters who actually scare you with the way he handles his weapon. Of course, they all have that smug look on their face when they take down a monster. Watching him swing the chain around and use the blade is entertaining, yes, but... he's just way too good at it. Sometimes he looks bored when he swings the chain around a beast's neck to pull them in and end the job; in fact, you prefer it that way. He gets scarier when he's in a giggling fit and takes down multiple at once. He'll come up to you afterward and ask if he can catch you like that. Before you know it, the chain is wrapped around you, and he's pulling you in as he whispers. You're about to bite him out of panic, only stopping when he shouts 'just kidding!' and hugs you closer. He laughs when you don't break out of the chains despite their weak grasp on you. His laughter dies down when your hands "reluctantly" wrap around him.

MH!Jade - Two Kukri Machetes. He almost looks more like a monster than you do when he wields them. There's a certain glint in his eyes when he successfully dispatches monsters. It's somehow even scarier than Floyd's. Whenever you attempt to hang out with him, he's always sharpening his blades with the most courteous of smiles. It's frightening, but that might be due to your nature as a monster. You're sitting in a forest, letting Jade feed you all the mystery forages from the wilderness. You think he might be testing which ones are poisonous on you. You won't die and you get free food, so it's a win o you. Though if you show any signs of distress or change, he'll gently open your mouth and have you spit it out. Not without a double-edged remark, however. "What a strong stomach. Perhaps I should let you eat it. I might find your weakness." He never does go through with his claim. You were too preoccupied with him to even notice you were being stalked, not seeing that he's thrown one of his Machetes at a monster, it's only when he says "Oh my, well that's no good..." and chucks his second one without even looking, do you notice. An extremely rare occurrence for you. Just how focused on eating did Jade have you? "Hm? Why, they were looking at you like a feast. It seems they had no idea who you were... Pity. Though it's no matter." You watch his hand reach for yours, placing a flower in your palm. "I wish to be the only one who truly knows you."

MH!Kalim - Bo Staff. It doesn't do harsh damage, but the speed he spins it at is dangerous, paired with fluidity similar to Jamil’s. Not enough to kill, but enough to incapacitate. Truth be told, Kalim’s never actually killed a monster. You’ve seen him knock them out, he's just... never gone for a finishing blow. It makes you wonder if he doesn’t know they’re not dead… There have been a couple of instances where he walks away, unassuming of the monstrosity that lunges at him. They only stop because you step between them, your eyes looking down on it. The amount of times you’ve had to step in and finish the job for him is too much, especially for someone meant to be killing monsters. Even Jamil steps in for him when you can’t. It should be a hint for him, yet he’ll simply hug you tight, joyous that you’re there. You wonder if it’s on purpose or not.

MH!Jamil - Chakrams. While several hunters have mesmerized you with the way they fight, you think Jamil has you watching him the most. He incorporates such a fluid movement when he throws his weapon, and even when he simply uses it in hand-to-hand combat, that you’ve sat for hours in the shadows watching him train. Weirdly enough, you want him to use them on you. You’re curious about being on the receiving end of such deadly blows. If you bring it up, he'll consider it simply because you want it. But his aim is so scarily accurate, he fears he might truly hit you if he tries. So instead, he teaches you how to use them. Which, he definitely shouldn't do, considering his occupation. He just can't help the way you seem to perk up with the monstrous charm when you actually do it. At this point, he might as well use his weapon for hypnotization so you'll never disappear for days on end again. He thinks he likes the way your eyes light up with genuine enjoyment when he's around, however, so he'd rather not.

MH!Vil - A Spear. It defeats some practicality, but he always makes sure to polish its barrel while adorning it in beauty. Yes, once it breaks, he'll get a new one; despite it, he'll always pay careful attention to it. You must say, he definitely has the prettiest weapon(s) among everyone in the foundation. He probably caught you staring at it one time when he returned to his room, the curtains shut, while you sat on his bed. Typically, he prefers for nobody to dirty his sheets, and he thinks you know that. He assumes so, considering his shower seems to be freshly used. Your nail taps the blade once, before moving to the engraving on its handle. Transparent fabrics wrap everything together neatly. You don't seem to notice him at all. A sure sign that you don't truly see him as a threat. "Haven't you been taught not to touch others property?" You perk up at the sound of his voice. A little too late, however, as once you turn, he's gone. You feel the spear being taken from your hand, and by the time you look, Vil is inches from your face. He turns the blade to point at you, and if you didn't know any better, he would plunge it into your chest at this moment. He uses the other end to open the curtains, allowing the moon to hit your features. "I shouldn't be very surprised, though." You remain silent when he places his hand next to where you sit. "You are a monster after all."

MH!Epel - He wanted to use gauntlets originally. After joining Vil... He was made to use a weaponized Shield. He's actually so disappointed in it. He could have at least gotten a cool blade, like literally everybody else. Why is he the only one without some offensive weapon!? You listen to him complain to himself about it as you sit in the dark. You don't think he realizes that he quite basically is using the shield as offense... He's charging full force into full brutes, knocking them back. By the time they're back up and ready to lunge at him, he's already turned it over and dropped the thing full force on their head. A brutal sight, yet he's still complaining how lame it is... He jumps when you appear by his side, your eyes looking him up and down. "You can't see..." Your clawed finger taps his bicep, "Strong now... Good at shield."... He learns to be more appreciative of it.

MH!Rook - Bow and Arrow (Are we surprised?). You've actually purposefully broken at least five of his bows to see if he has to buy a new one. He pulled one from under his pillow, and you have no idea why it was there. Easily the best marksman in the business. He's shot arrows near you multiple times, and each instance, you believe he's finally decided to really hunt you down, only to look at the multiple poems stuck on the shaft and see that wasn't his intent. You've taken your revenge by outlining his sleeping body with these same arrows. He woke up in the middle of the night, pleasantly surprised by your gift, serenading you about your generosity... The next day was spent trying to eat in peace while a poetic hunter lavishes you with admiration. You don't put up much resistance when he rests his head on your shoulder and leaves his hat on top of you.

MH!Idia - Scythe. Though not as proficient with it as Reaper!Idia, still decently skilled. You were there when he first chose the weapon, actually. Way before you had personally met any of the monster hunters. You were hanging from a tree while he was in his room, flipping through his choices. He chose the scythe because it looked the coolest and reminded him of a character from a story he liked. He had his doubts with how flashy a weapon it is. After you finally met, you asked him about it, and he turned pink at how embarrassing that was. You... You saw him fanboy over how cool a weapon is... You let him ramble about all the confidence points he lost with you as you pat his back. If you insist, the scythe is interesting, he'll go back to crazing over it. If you go even further and compliment him? He either goes into full-fledged self-assurance or a ball of fluster. You have to pat him on the back either way, though. When you're out of sight, he begins cursing out everyone else, because the idea of you doing that to anybody other than him...? Everyone awakens to an ominous letter detailing all of their suspicious purchases the next day.

MH!Malleus - The only one fully capable of fighting with his bare fists. Though if need be, he'll fight with weapons, which is most of the time, as he seems to cause more damage without them. He never has a set one, always changing. He's still proficient with all of them, however. His pure strength alone is a testament to his formidability to others. Some workers don't even wish to be in his proximity, fearing he might touch them; Except for you. Despite the bounty on your head and him supposedly being on the hunt for you, you let him touch you as much as he wishes. You should fear that one day he'll turn on you and claim his reward, yet here you are, allowing him to curiously touch every monstrous feature of yours without struggle. You've seen his deadly ability; it's just the tender feeling of his hands moving through your features that overpowers it. Fortunately for you, you're the only monster he'll ever touch like that, and he hopes he's the only hunter to touch you like this too.

MH!Silver - A Lance. A weapon that should typically be wielded on a horse, which he does do, yet he also handles it on the ground perfectly fine. It's even much larger on his person, only furthering the impressiveness. Despite the giant weapon, he still takes down monsters with a certain kindness, gently putting them down when they fall. When you ask him why, he glanced once at his weapon before softly telling you, "They didn't ask to be monsters." You're silent at his answer, glancing down when his hand takes yours, and once more in that sweet tone, "You didn't, right?" The silence in your reply fails to answer his question, leaving ambiguity in the truth of your existence. He doesn't voice any form of disappointment, however, instead, he hands you his large weapon, allowing your clawed fingers to grip its hilt. Anyone else would fear a monster to attack them when unarmed, yet he isn't, not at all. With the softest of smiles, he comforts you. "I think... You're the nicest of all."

MH!Sebek - A Rapier. He insists it shows off his skills better. It's not big and boorish like others; he could quite easily carry that, but neither is it small and evasive, though he could easily dispatch those as well. His specific sword makes each strike of his look like a sting. You think he enjoys how fast it makes him look. You probably grew curious about whether it was him or just the sword that made him look fast, though, and took hold of its hilt. He's quick to bust in and tell you not to dirty his weapon with your heinous touch. "You definitely ate something with those hands!"... And he's not necessarily wrong... But you don't give it back, you insist on examining it further, earning more of his temper. He's about to start yelling when he sees your claw scratch his blade. "How Dare—! Oh...?" When you give it back to him, his name is engraved on the steel, a (human) heart drawn next to it. "This is quite nice...! Why... is there a heart next to it....?!" His determination to not let anyone else touch his sword increases after that

MH!Lilia - Two Kama's. He uses them to tend a garden in Diasmonia's quarters. Yet, they also double as his signature weapon. You're sure that he's probably cut wheat right after a mission, earning the ire of other hunters at their crops being sullied with monster... It doesn't matter, though, as no one eats the food he makes with such ingredients. His cooking is bad, yes, but you think it only worsens in the eye of a human because he skillfully used those same tools to successfully dispatch twenty different beasts... But... You're the only one who can stomach his cooking. It's not the best thing you've ever eaten, yet it's also not the worst. Except, you actually do like his cooking. That alone has earned you the entire foundation, as well as regular civilians you're close with, to repeatedly ask you if you're okay and perform regular medical checkups on you to see if you're fine. When you say you are, they don't really believe you... Yet the way you return to the kitchen to dutifully help him cook his horrendous dishes has them second-guess... They all go on a mission to cook better (worse) than him.

MH!Reader - Dagger(s. They've got like 16 strapped on them, all with different designs and uses). It's what I usually picture them with, BUT I do think they would have experience with things such as swords and bows. But you can imagine them with anything, really.

Modern!Reader - Pepper spray and a Taser. Both are mostly ineffective against monsters 💀. In times of desperation, they flash their camera and start screaming really loudly.

Monster!Rollo - A Dagger. He's actually more efficient with any type of weapon, mostly the bow. If anything, it actually hinders him more, but he insists on it because he wants to use the same weapon as you, so he knows what to do if you need help with your daggers. He practices extra so you'll always come to him when you need help with training. As long as no one else teaches you, it'll be okay.

MH!Rollo - A Bow, as he no longer has a reason to practice with daggers. He's still proficient with all types, though. He has a penchant for dipping the tips of his arrows in holy water. He double dips when he knows he's going to see you. He triple dips when he sees you in person. And he sighs when he misses all his shots (Whether that's because you're too fast or if he unconsciously misses, however, is a mystery.)

Human Fellow - His Debt. The first time he met you, out of fear, he started throwing his bills and taxes at you. It worked. Not because you were hurt, but because you were asking why he was giving you his bills. "I... Can't... Pay..." ... He was genuinely amazed you focused on that and not him throwing papers at you.

Human Skully - His photos of you, or more specifically, his photo book. He's actually spiritually hurt whenever he does that to the pictures, apologizing as if they were actually you. Yet, he keeps doing it because in his mind, it means you'll always be there for him and vice versa. Imagine his shock when he's about to hit a monster he came across by chance with his photo book, only for you to take a bite out of it. You really are lovely, aren't you?

Human Neige - A Medkit. Not very proficient, and quite ironic that he uses something meant to heal as a weapon. Sometimes, monsters come through, and the real hunters miss them. You probably had a limb get cut off, and while it would probably come back, he was diligently stitching it back on you. You're about to have a snack of the measly goblin that walks over, but you don't even have the chance before he's closing his kit and smacking it over the head. You pronounce him dead on the scene, and he smiles at you as if he didn't do anything at all...

Human Chenya - His Jacket. He never wears it, save for wrapping it around his hips. So imagine your surprise when you're trying to sleep and you wake up to five other monsters lying on the ground five feet away, with Chenya resting his head on your lap.

Jamil's weapon had me going down a rabbit hole; it's so cool (..＞◡＜..) also, I love the thought of Monster!Reader breaking into bedrooms/watching the MH!Cast and not doing a single thing. Is it stalkerish? Yes. But it also reminds the cast you’re completely capable of taking them when they’re unprepared. You’ve had multiple chances to kill them, yet you haven’t. Really shows both Readers' threat, and their urge to know why you are the way you are.

Surprise, surprise, Jade's was the longest. I hate him so much, oh my goshhhhh (￢_￢)

[rhettrosunsets]

Bearly Apart

Pairing: Bob Floyd X F! Teacher Reader

Category: Fluff!

Summary: You and Bob finally take the next step in your lives together, moving! But while cleaning, Bob finds something extremely special in one of you boxes.

Masterlist

Word Count: 1678

Warnings: Mentions of being pulled into Bob's Lap, Mentions Of Deployment, Use of Pet Names, No use of Y/N, No description of what reader looks like.

Edited ✅

Notes: I haven’t written fanfictions since I was probably fourteen, so if these suck, I apologize!! I’m just now getting back into the swing of writing and trying to figure out how to characterize my writing.

You love Bob.

there is no other way to describe the way in which you feel for the dirty blonde Naval Aviator, who has stolen your heart and made it no good for anyone else.

You met at the Hard Deck a few years back, you were with your friends. You tried to hang back and let them have their fun as you were the designated driver for the night, and honestly wanted nothing more than to be at home curled up with your blankets, knowing you had papers to grade, but the moment you saw Bob sitting by the pool table, you knew you were whipped, and the moment you met Bob, you knew he was the one. 

You began to realize he would never let you touch a door again if he could help it, always claiming “My momma would beat me if she found out I let you open your own door.” It was the little things like that, that made you truly realize how much he loved you, or the way that he would run his fingers gently across your cheek when he thought you were asleep, whispering about how lucky he felt to meet you and planning your futures, promising to give you the best life he could. 

Bob absolutely treasured you, and he always made sure you knew it, never wanting you to feel like you weren't the best thing that ever happened to him. He would often praise you anytime he could. “You work so hard baby, let me take care of you.” “You’re so beautiful, my darling girl” 

But there was one downside to your otherwise seemingly perfect boyfriend. The deployments. They’re long, and distance is hard. You miss your boyfriend, you miss the way he holds you, and you miss trying to sleep without him, so on one particularly long deployment, you had a solution to this. A Build-A-Bear, dressed in a little navy uniform, that you sprayed with his cologne. It was the perfect solution to your problem, you had a small stuffed bear to hug, that resembled your boyfriend, and that smelt like him for when the nights got extra lonely. Now despite your three, almost four year relationship with Bob, you never told him about this bear. Oftentimes, you’d just put the bear into the closet when he came back from deployments, not needing it, now that you had the real thing, which you didn’t really think would be a problem, until now.

You and Bob had finally decided to move out of your shared apartment, and into your first house, and with this big decision, came having to move everything in your apartment, and that meant lots of sorting and putting things into boxes.

You were sitting in the half packed bedroom, sorting through your closet, and sorting all your clothes into the 'donate' or 'new house' piles. You could faintly hear Bob moving boxes around in your living room, the sound of him humming to himself as he worked evident through the walls. It was peaceful and domestic, something that made you smile to yourself, and you were simply content to just silently sort through your clothes, until the silence was broken by the sound of a quiet knock at your bedroom door, making you look up from your sorting.

Bob peeked his head around the door, giving you a gentle smile as he looked at you. "Hey Doll, how's it going?" 

You look up, meeting his soft gaze, biting back a smile. "It's going good, I think. You don't realize how much stuff you have until you have to move it, I think we need to limit the amount of sweatshirts I buy during winter" you say with a soft groan before focusing your attention back onto Bob "You get the living room packed up already?

Bob chuckles softly as he leans against the door frame, his arms crossed as he shakes his head at your comment knowing that you just steal half of his sweatshirts anyways. “I got most of it packed up. There's a couple heavier things I wanna wait and ask everyone else to help move, but that's not going to be for a few more days.” 

He walks over to where you're sitting on the floor, sitting besides you and placing his head gently atop yours, as he wraps his hand around your waist. “You need some help packing up the rest of the closet, Doll?” 

You hum leaning into the comforting touch of your boyfriend. “There’s a few containers in there I haven't sorted through yet. If you wanna go through those, that’d be a big help” You say peering up at your boyfriend. 

Bob plants a soft kiss on the top of your head, squeezing your waist. "Of course baby, I live to serve afterall, doll." He says as he stands up, lips quirking into a soft smirk.

Your face heats up as you look back to the clothes you’re sorting through, your breath hitching in your throat. “Shut It, Lieutenant.” Bob chuckles lowly as he begins to grab some of the storage bins out of the closet, “Whatever you ask, doll.” 

You two get into a rhythm of sorting through things, falling into a system, getting through most of the items in your closet much quicker.

Bob sorts through a few boxes, before finally opening one up that caught his attention when he first started sorting. He lifts the lid off of it, revealing some older polaroids of you two when you first started dating, stuff you had collected over your many dates, such as dried flowers, notes he had written you, and some movie tickets you had kept. As he looks further in the box, he sees something peeking out. Curiosity gets the better of him, and he grabs the item, pulling out a small stuffed bear. He furrows his eyebrows as he picks it up, noticing the small navy-like uniform the bear has on, with a small name tag attached to the front of the bear, reading 'Bobby' in your handwriting. A small smile tugs at Bob's lips as he looks at the bear. He runs his fingers over the fabric of the uniform, admiring how it closely resembles his own uniform, he notices the hint of a familiar cologne wafting off of the bear. He lifts the bear closer to his nose, inhaling the recognizable scent. It was his cologne, smiling even wider when he realizes that. 

You look up noticing Bob hadn’t said much in a little bit, wanting to make sure he was okay, when you notice him holding the small stuffed bear. You immediately still as you notice the bear, eyes widening.

The smile doesn't leave his face as he turns to you, with the bear still in his hands. "Doll?" He calls out to you, He holds the bear up for you to see. "Care to explain this?" He asks with a small chuckle.

You blush, feeling your entire body seeming to heat up in embarrassment. “Oh my god, you didn’t just find that.” you said bringing your hands to cover your face.

He stands up, walking over to you and sitting besides you on the floor, placing the bear in your lap, his gaze fixated on your face, as he gently tries to coax your hands away from your face. "C'mon baby, no reason to be embarrassed. I'm just curious, I wanna know where the lil’guy came from.”

You groan softly as you allow him to pull your hands away from your face and into his own, as you shyly peer up at your smiling boyfriend. “I-I got him on one of your longer deployments a few years ago.. I really, really missed you and I couldn’t sleep at night. So, one day I decided to go to build-a-bear, and I saw the little navy outfit, and well.. Made a mini you, for when you couldn’t be here, and sprayed your cologne on it. Made it feel less lonely at night, like a promise that you’d come back to me.”

A look of adoration crosses Bob's face, his eyes softening as he reaches over to pull you into his hold, wrapping his arms around you as he rests his head on your shoulder. "Oh sweet-girl" Bob says, his voice filled with pure tenderness and a tinge of guilt at the prospect of you feeling that alone. "I had no idea. I knew you struggled with my deployments, I struggle being away from you too, but I didn't realize it was that tough on you, sweetheart. You could’ve told me.” 

You lean back, relishing in your boyfriend's hold, face still flushed with heat. “I know m’love. But they’re hard on you as well.. And well that’s why I got your little mini-me here, made me feel like you were here in spirit.”

He runs his hands up and down your back in a soothing motion, before whispering “You’re so precious doll, got the whole world in my arms. M’the luckiest man alive, you know that? Having my girl miss me so much that she makes a stuffed bear mini-me, couldn't've ever dreamed of being this lucky.”

You snort softly. “Slow your roll lieutenant, it’s a stuffed bear, you act like I've handed you a magic lamp that’ll solve all your worries.” 

Bob smiles into your shoulder, shaking his head. “Fuck the lamp, i’ve got everything I could’ve ever wished for right here, anyways.” 

You groan loudly, shaking your head, “Oh my god, Bob that was so bad. You’re such a corny flirt.”

 Bob smiles at your reaction, kissing your head, whispering “Only for you, Doll.” Bob gently tugs you closer, before adding on “You know baby, if you’ve been using this every deployment, it means we’ve ‘Bearly been Apart’ this whole time.” He says softly trying to stifle his laughter.

You groan loudly, slapping his chest. “Bobby! Oh my god, that was horrible! You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Cute enough to make into a bear, obviously.” He responds, lips quirking up into a smirk as he sees your glare intensify.

“Robert!” you exclaim

“Shutting up now, doll!"

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 28

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 27 | Series Masterlist | Part 29

Chapter Word Count: Almost 3.3k

Chapter Summary: You try to process the fallout after meeting with your parents, and you wish to take back some control of your life.

Chapter Warnings: Arguing, bonding of sorts, inner turmoil, world building, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight, and thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411 and @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-in-darkness. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You didn’t argue when Bucky helped you into the car. Your mind kept replaying what had just happened. Bucky defended you in the way he thought best, but he cut your parents off. He did that, not you, and it was starting to sink in just how serious that was.

The ache in your chest only grew. Your parents had carved a part of your heart out and you feared it may never heal correctly. Bucky may not have been the carver, but it felt like he put the tool in their hands. Was that fair? Was it right to think that way?

Your mind and heart felt like a battlefield, your thoughts and emotions at odds, clashing and each trying to come out on top. Destruction laid in the wake frequently when Bucky was involved, but he found a way to build something new out of it. What would he build out of the damage this time? What would rise from the ashes because you were tired of being the one set on fire. You just wanted to bloom gently, quietly. 

“I’m so sorry we didn’t get a chance to eat,” Bucky said remorsefully, his arm tight around you, tethering to him like always. “We’ll stop anywhere you want. We can-”

“Why did you do that?” you asked in a small voice, staring straight ahead into nothingness.

“Why did I do what?” he asked, as if he was blissfully unaware of the fire he set ablaze with his actions. 

You looked at him, but no tears came to your eyes. Hadn’t you cried enough? “You cut my parents off. Why did you do that?”

He didn’t say anything at first. He watched you like he was trying to figure out his next move. The man was always two steps ahead. “I did that for you,” he whispered, keeping his gaze on you when you attempted to look away. “Your parents may have created you, but they didn’t give you the love, support, or anything else you deserved. Why should they be a part of your life when they beat you down instead of building you up?”

Bucky’s words felt heavy, bitter, and truthful. He believed he did the right thing by doing what he did. He was protecting you in the only way he knew how- by taking control and doing things his way. This wasn’t his battle. It wasn’t up to him to deliver the killing blow.

“Because they are still my parents.” Your voice began to rise with your rising anger and his face dropped. “It should have been my choice!”

“I… I don’t understand.” He seemed at a loss, so unlike him. “You thanked me for defending you.”

“Because I do appreciate that you defended me. You said… all the right things,” you said, your voice still too loud in the small space. “But you still took the choice away from me. You’re still controlling the narrative of my life!”

Cutting off anyone whether it was family or friends was a deeply personal and difficult decision. It could take people months or even years to make that decision. It was heartbreaking when it occurred even when it was for the best. The feeling manifested into living grief and you could feel it with each breath. The worst part was that you didn’t get to prepare yourself for it because Bucky suggested lunch and he cut the cord. 

Bucky sighed, but not out of annoyance or anger. “You’re my heart, my very reason for living, and I thought I was doing the right thing,” he said sadly. 

“You want to do the right thing?! ASK ME! That’s what partners do!” You shoved at his chest, trying to put distance between you, but he didn’t budge, ever the unmoveable wall. Of course he wanted your wrath, your fire. Maybe he could burn the way you were burning. “I swear, the moment I think you’re taking a step forward, you take two steps back. You-”

His mouth was on yours, not harsh or persistent. You felt the struggle for him to not push further, knowing he wanted you to want him and take the lead. It was a standstill, daring you to move one way or the other. You didn’t deepen the kiss, but you didn’t pull away either. You just let it be.

Bucky was the one to pull away, his eyes softer than you expected. “You’re so strong, Kotyonok, and I’m holding you so tightly. I’m making you depend on me when I should be letting you stand on your own,” he breathed, the words warm against your skin and coming from the very depth of his soul. “I’ve seen you break and put yourself back together. I selfishly want to be the glue keeping the pieces in place the same way you keep me intact.”

There was a hint of a smile on his face while your lower lip trembled. Why did hearing that hurt so much? “I’m tired of breaking,” you whispered. You had broken more in less than a month than some would in their entire lives. There was being resilient in the pain, but this was overkill and you had paid more than enough dues. 

“Then we’ll learn how to lean on each other the right way,” he said, dragging his lips along your face. Was it that easy? “Teach me how to be the right man for you.”

You pulled back in shock. This was a man who thrived on his world being crafted to his specifications. Did he really want you to have that level of control or was he telling you what you wanted to hear? “Well, being the right man, you wouldn’t have moved me in so soon, so we can’t exactly go back and undo that.”

He chuckled, warm and low. “No, we can’t, but we can go forward.”

“Forward,” you whispered. It was the only way to go.

He brought his mouth to your ear. “And I’m sorry about your parents, but maybe now they’ll think about what they’ve done.”

You had no doubt Bucky’s vitriol would be on their minds and maybe they’d feel guilt, but you didn’t know what that meant for your future with them. And would Bucky think of his own actions? Only time would tell. 

You didn't say anything else for the rest of the ride, even when Bucky stopped to get some food. You went straight to the library with your meal once you got back to the penthouse. Bucky couldn’t hide the hurt on his face that you chose not to eat with him, but you needed space after what went down at lunch and you urged him to make some calls or do some work to distract him. It may have felt like a punishment in his eyes, but that wasn’t the case. It was a respectable boundary after something upset you.

“These brownies really are delicious,” Curtis called out.

You giggled. Poor Curtis had pulled up a chair and sat right outside of the library while you ate and relaxed. While you did trust that Bucky would respect the rule that he wouldn’t go into the library, your bodyguard was taking his role very seriously. “I’m glad you like them.”

“I’m sure Ray will thank you personally once you leave that room.”

You pushed the last bite of food around on your plate. Ray hadn’t said anything after that disastrous lunch, but you saw a bit of sorrow in his eyes. “Did you hear the conversation at the restaurant?”

“You mean did I hear Bucky ripping your parents a new asshole? Yeah, I heard it,” he confirmed. 

You sighed. If Curtis heard, you were sure Ray heard, too, which would explain why he looked at you the way he did. Would you ever have real privacy? “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

“Why are you apologizing? It’s not like you made them shitty parents and you didn’t make Bucky say what he did. They made their choices and you were caught in the storm,” he said, voice even and not judgemental. He was speaking on the facts presented to him, and you appreciated that.

You didn't voice how much it hurt that your parents hadn't texted after you left, but what did you expect?

“Because you shouldn’t have had to hear that. Those feelings, even if they aren’t yours, shouldn’t be your burden to carry.” You moved a little closer to the door. “Do you think I’m in the wrong for being upset?”

You weren’t asking to get Curtis into any kind of trouble. Bucky was his boss, but he was your bodyguard now and you wanted his opinion. He was also different from the others. He wouldn’t tell you what you wanted to hear or blindly defend Bucky.

And you did feel that you had the right to be upset because your voice was taken away, but you were also relieved in a way. Bucky stood up for you the way no one else ever had, but the dice were loaded. It was always meant to end in his favor. 

You heard Curtis sigh from where you stood. “When someone forces you into a cage or a box, it can lead to a lot of things. Anger, resentment, pain. Some fight back and others… adapt,” he said quietly. He sounded like he knew from experience. “I think you’re a mix of those. You’re fighting and adapting to your new world,” he continued. Was that really what he thought? “So are you wrong for being upset? No. I think you’re extremely human in your response because you want to be the one with your hands on the wheel.”

Your eyes brimmed with tears, but they faded quickly. Curtis understood that you wanted to be the driver in your life, not the passenger. “You’re very observant, Curtis. You’re also an anomaly, in a good way.”

Where had the man come from?

“I could say you’re an anomaly, too. You don’t let darkness taint you. You find a way to be the light within it,” he said, surprising you with his softness and bringing a small smile to your face. “So, how much longer are you going to stay there and avoid Bucky?”

“I’m not avoiding Bucky,” you said quickly.

Curtis laughed at you. “Please. You’re in the one room you know he can’t go in,” he pointed out. You rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. “And I admire that. Not many have the balls to shut him out, but you’ve done it more than once now.”

Guilt churned in your stomach before you pushed it away. You didn’t do anything wrong. “I’m not trying to shut him out. I just needed the space,” you said. Surely Bucky and Curtis could understand that after all the shit you went through.

“I get that,” he said, waiting for a beat before he added, “But may I offer some advice?”

“Sure,” you replied, bracing yourself for whatever he had to say.

“You have every right to use this space as your own because you deserve it, but don’t use it as a crutch,” he said carefully, likely not wanting to hurt your feelings.

Frustration bubbled within you before it faded as fast as it came. “So, you think I shouldn’t use this space when I’m upset?”

“I think you should carefully weigh out the options. If you’re really trying to build something with Bucky, you should use this space when you have to. Because the second you enter this room, you’re drawing a line that he can’t cross and he’s already losing whatever battle you’re waging,” he answered. You exhaled, wondering if Bucky viewed it the same way. “But believe me when I say there are some fights he’s meant to lose, and that’s when you should allow yourself to use the space and win.”

You found yourself smiling. His words made you think of Natasha. They didn’t outright fight Bucky to get you out of this, but they tried to help you adjust as they could. “You’re telling me to choose my battles wisely.”

“And don’t lose who you are at your core,” he said.

You considered his words as you lightly paced in the library. “But being here isn’t just about winning battles. It’s about taking back my control,” you explained. You had the right to dictate your life and actions even if it was Bucky’s world you were living in.

“So, take it back,” he said, making you scoff. It wasn’t that simple. “This may be the one room he can’t go in, but it doesn’t mean there can’t be other ground rules.”

“You really think he’ll let me change the rules?” you asked. Bucky was the one who made them and the man was stubborn to a fault.

“Some rules are meant to be broken. Others… they’re meant to be rewritten.”

You hadn’t expected to have such a deep conversation with Curtis after that disastrous lunch, but you couldn’t say you were upset about it. “I don’t know if I’m a rule breaker,” you admitted, walking toward the door so you could lean out and look at him. “But I think I can rewrite them.”

Warmth filled his blue eyes. “Whether you break or rewrite them, I have your back.”

You believed him.

“Sounds like you two are getting along well.”

You stuck your head out more and saw Bucky at the end of the hall. His smile didn’t reach his eyes and that smile fell when he looked at Curtis. Your bodyguard didn’t cower or flinch when he said, “Just doing my job.”

Bucky tilted his head. “Are you?” he asked like a whisper in the wind, threatening to build into a dangerous storm.

“He is,” you said, stepping into the hall. You had to keep Bucky’s jealousy in check. He couldn’t get upset if a man spoke to you. “He gave me some things to think about.”

Bucky strode toward you, but stopped before he could reach out and touch you. “You’re still upset with me,” he stated. 

You didn’t deny that. The pangs in your chest still felt raw and new. “You really want me to teach you how to be the man I need?” 

“Yes,” he said, the word fragile between you. 

“Good,” you said, taking your phone out and sending a message to the girls. “I want to go to your club tonight with my friends.”

Mourning sometimes called for celebration. The winery trip with your friends hadn’t ended on a high note. Tonight would be different. You would have time with them, and you would have fun. You were determined. 

Because your friends were still your family through and through. 

Bucky spared Curtis a glance, surprise on both of their faces. “You want to go to our club?” Bucky questioned. 

Your head snapped up, a strange feeling washing over you. You hadn’t thought about the club ever being yours. It was his domain, his world… that you were the queen in. What was his would be yours. 

You nodded slowly. “I do. VIP section. My friends and I. We’ll consider it an additional bachelorette party for Addison. Or you can consider me accepting that I’m the queen of the club now. Your choice,” you explained.

Bucky scratched the back of his neck. While he looked happy at the idea of you going, he seemed apprehensive, too. Maybe he should feel that way. “Are you sure you want to go so soon after-”

“What happened? Yes. It’s my life. My decision,” you said. You were still healing and recovering, and you would do it how you saw fit. And while you still didn’t know where Clark was, you knew you wouldn’t ever see him again. “I’m going to have a drink with my friends and I’m going to dance and enjoy their company. And do you know what you are going to do?”

He swallowed, a nervous look crossing his face only for a moment. It was so quick you almost missed it. “What am I going to do?”

“You’re going to watch. You’re not going to sway my friends or charm them. You’re not going to interfere with our fun in any way, shape, or form,” you ordered, the way he ordered so many people around in his life. 

Bucky looked like he wanted to argue, but didn’t when you narrowed your eyes. “If that’s what you want,” he said, his voice tight. 

“That's what I want.” You stepped closer and smiled, almost forgetting for a second that Curtis was within earshot. “I’m going to wear something sexy, something you’ll want to take off me,” you promised. Whatever you wore, you’d make sure you turned heads. “Something that may make you want to kill others just for looking at me,” you softly said, running a finger down his chest and making him tremble. “For what you think belongs to you.”

“Kotyonok,” he said through his teeth. His control was on the verge of snapping, but you didn’t care.

“You’ll watch me be your queen ruling over our kingdom and you’ll only join me when and if I allow it. Because the man I need? He knows when to stay in the shadows and will trust that I will call him into the light when I need him by my side,” you said, your lips a breath away from his. “Just like when I called you to save me.”

You trusted him to save you from Clark, but he hadn’t trusted you enough today to fight the battle with your parents. Or maybe it wasn’t that he didn’t trust you. It was simply that he thought his way was the only way. He was going to learn.

He took your choice away today even if he hadn’t meant to, even if he was doing what he thought was best. That wouldn’t happen tonight. You wouldn’t allow it. 

“Maybe if you’re lucky I’ll let you dance with me. Maybe I’ll let you put your hands on me. Let you touch what you so desperately want to touch,” you breathed, watching his pupils dilate before you stepped back. “But if you come to me without me giving you explicit permission, you’ll have proven that I really don’t have any control or say and that bridge won’t be easy to mend. Do I make myself clear?”

Your heart pounded in your ears when Bucky stared you down, locked in a silent battle of wills. You hoped you weren't biting off more than you could chew, but you weren't backing down and you had to try. Didn't you owe yourself that?

Bucky smiled from ear to ear like you gave him a gift. Did he just let you win? “See? You're so fucking strong.” It was nice to hear, and you had to believe it within yourself. “And your orders are crystal clear. I’ll behave.”

You couldn't celebrate this victory, not until the night played out. “I guess we’ll see.” You shifted your gaze to Curtis and expected him to look uncomfortable, but he looked impressed. “I’m sorry, Curtis. I know you aren’t a fan of the club.”

“Where you go, I go,” he said easily. 

You offered him a smile, appreciating the loyalty you felt you hadn’t earned. “Now, I'm going to have a nice long bath and then I'm going to get ready,” you announced, brushing past Bucky with a smirk. 

You were playing with fire, but Bucky wouldn't hold the matches tonight. You would be the one in control. And if he really wanted to be your king, he’d let you rewrite the rules as the queen you were. 

We're going back to the club! Is Kotyonok playing with fire? Is Bucky going to behave or will a line be crossed? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[ruinix]

recent walk in..sugar daddy quinn mad when he realizes you haven’t been using the black credit card he gave you for expenses

Hello, lovely. Of course, hehe.😏 You did not catch me writing this. I am just a ghost taking over the keyboard. I need to put this out before a new walkin comes out.... (edit not really fully sugar daddy!quinn. But he totally would pay for everything type of boyfriend)

Broken Promise, Broken Cards

TW/CW: 18+ MDNI, Smut, Spanking (pussy slapping??), Edging, Unprotected sex (protections, lovelies, they’re important), Squirting, Just Quinn being so angry that he became calm and he edges you coz he can.

Count: 3356 -> 3734 words (Edited) | Masterlist | Taglist

You’re sending him pictures of your shopping. One picture after another. One choice after another. Quinn helps you pick when you ask for his opinion. He has no problem answering your texts while he watches a replay of a game. The only problem is that Quinn has yet to receive a notification from any of your purchases.

With that, he can no longer focus on the game. It’s just white noise now while he refreshes his inbox.

Swipe down. Wait. Close the app. Open it. Swipe down.

Over and over again, whenever you send him a new photo of your successful purchase.

None. Not a single fucking one.

He is getting too agitated when he receives a photo of a paper bag of a particular brand of lingerie with your delicate hand holding it. You have your nails done earlier this morning. It’s so pretty with your favorite shade of pink and favorite flower designs. Just like how you described it before you went out. He can’t wait for your hands around him tonight.

‘Focus,’ he reprimands himself.

Shaking his head, focusing on the paper bag instead, locking in the brand, he gives the purchase a few minutes to process—or whatever the fuck—but again, nothing. He stares and stares into the screen, his eyebrows meeting. He remembers having every transaction on that card to be sent over his email too. He set that up long before. So, where the fuck are they?

Are you actually buying things or are you stealing them?

Did you bring cash?

Quinn didn’t give you cash for anything else other than your nails and the tip for its service today. His frustrations build up. He’s so close to calling the bank and making sure that the card is activated. When he receives another message, he takes a moment to calm down—he has to—before opening it.

He immediately gets distracted by how bright you look. You are grinning so much that the corners of your eyes crinkle, a blush flushing your face. Your nails are on full show once more as you hold up the bag next to your face. So beautiful.

After a solid five minutes, he remembers to refresh his inbox. Only then does it dawn at him.

Are you even using the card he gave you? No, that can’t be. You promised him to use that card today. You are definitely using it.

Aren’t you?

One last swipe down to refresh his email. Still nothing.

What the fuck.

You’re definitely not using the card.

Quinn paces. He’s getting angry for you breaking your promise, getting worried because you’re buying a lot of stuff today. More than you usually do. Didn’t you just complain about your depleting savings last night? It’s one of the reasons why he secretly transferred a few hundreds of dollars—exactly three thousand—into your account. He knows that you didn’t notice it, because you would’ve transferred it back to him after you lecture him about it. If it’s not that, did you suddenly replenish it in your own way? He quickly checks the date and confirms that it’s nowhere near payday, so that’s not it.

Where the fuck are you getting your spending money?

He refuses to acknowledge that you might be using your old credit card. The one with a fucking limit.

It can’t be.

There is no fucking way.

Something snaps in his head, pushing him to act. He rushes to your office, powers up your computer, and signs in without a hitch, because you’ve never put a password on it. If you do, he knows about your little notebook of passwords under your desk plant next to your monitor.

He never really goes through your stuff. He is content and trusts you with everything. Everything. He knows exactly how deeply you feel about him as much as he does with you. Although sometimes you hide your phone from him, that’s when you’re texting your friends about him. It’s obvious because you keep snickering while throwing glances at him. He doesn’t mind that. Not at all. You can talk to your other friends about other stuff. The fact still remains. He trusts you.

But, right now, he is losing it. He needs to see. He needs to look into your email. Just this one time. He’ll apologize for it later.

His eyes are locked on the notifications, the receipts, the confirmations. The account number on every single one of them is not the one on the black credit card he has given you. He had it memorized, and it doesn’t fucking match. You are not fucking using it. What the fuck.

An ache forms in his chest. It’s like a horrible backhand that could shake up his teeth, so horrible that he had to run his tongue over them, making a clicking sound to ensure his teeth are still rooted. He crosses his arms. His legs are spread wide as he slouches against the backrest, one leg bobbing up and down. He glares at the screen, trying to will the emails to disappear while he burns them one by one in his mind. He tries a different route to imagine the account number to change, but of course, nothing works.

He rubs a hand over his face. His head pounds at the start of a headache. His phone pings from another message. It sounds like a blaring siren, making his ears ring. After a few moments, a new mail pops up.

This is so much worse than you realizing the deposit in your debit. Because one, you broke your promise. Two, he feels useless. If you were not going to use the card, you could’ve let Quinn accompany you during this shopping spree that would at least appease his soul. But then, he can force his card into the hands of the cashiers. Realization hits him.

That’s exactly why you didn’t let him tag along. You know he’ll talk his way to overtake your payments. Exhaling, a chuckle escapes him. A smirk forms on his face as he gazes up the ceiling. You are such a clever girl, aren’t you?

He’ll give this to you, but you are in so much trouble when you come home.

As if on cue, you text him, “I’m on my way home.”

He turns your computer off, standing up. An eerie calm envelope him. He’s still so angry, yet instead of vibrating and burning outwardly, it settles deep inside his bones until nothing comes up. It’s an odd feeling. It’s not heavy. It’s not light. It just is. A calm before the storm.

He undoes his second top button. If you really want to use your credit card, you can. You’re your own person. Still, you should have kept your promise. Such a bad girl.

He walks back to the living room and sits down on the single seater, reaching the remote to close off every curtain, making his place dimmer and dimmer and dimmer.

Then he waits.

He waits until you come in with your impressive haul. Extremely impressive, because you have your arms full already. When you put them down, you only leave to get more of them until you get a little pile in the living room. It’s amusing how your grin looks so self-satisfied, not realizing that he’s sitting in the corner of the room, until your eyes land on him. Your smile turns sheepish, taking your hands behind you, not daring to come closer.

Truly clever.

“Hi, Quinny. Didn’t see you there.” You wave.

“My Love,” he greets, beckoning you with a finger, but you refuse to come, shaking your head. “What’s wrong?”

“I need to put these away.”

He watches you start with one bag with the little nightgown that looks so fucking sexy. You’re clearly distracting him and it’s working. Slightly. He obliges you, his amusement growing the more you ramble. You’ve enjoyed your shopping trip. You speak at a quicker pace than you usually do. You have a little bounce on your step. Your happy energy radiates from you in waves while you continue taking everything out of bags which you fold right after. He knows you’re aware that he knows. That’s why you’re taking your time.

Quinn’s aware that you are genuinely delighted that you distract yourself more than him.

He’s proud and happy that you enjoyed your day.

Truly.

It doesn’t erase the fact that he has already lost it. The calm that his anger turned is what’s keeping him from pouncing on you, from taking you over his lap and slamming his hand on your bare ass until you got handprints that will bruise and ache for a couple of days. Just like how you want them.

He still can’t believe that you’ve broken him just from breaking your promise.

It’s entirely laughable.

Yet heat streaks down his spine, down his lean abdomen, down to his cock.

He’s so fucking hard.

He stands up, stalking towards you while you’re crouching next to a pile of paper bags. You’re still rambling a pottery workshop you’ve come across. You’re saying that you want to go back there so you can make mugs for each other. When you’ve already successfully built a mug collection in one of his cupboards.

So adorable. So clueless about the danger prowling towards you.

He stops, his shadow looming over you. He counts the seconds, but you still don’t notice him, do you? Then he sees how your hands start to shake. You do. Silly girl.

A chuckle escapes him as he grabs your arm. He swiftly pulls you up then lifts you over his shoulder.

“Quinn!” You squeal, hitting his back a couple of times. “Put me down! You’re making me dizzy—”

You let out a moan when Quinn slaps the tender spot under your ass.

  “Quiet,” he orders, making you whimper like the dirty slut you are. “What did you say before you left?”

“Bye?” You sound so confused. “I love you?”

He spanks you on the same spot again, making you moan and whine. Even more when he slips his hand under your skirt, his fingers trail up and up, then he puts you down on the bed. Instantly, you flip over, looking at him like he has taken everything from you. He can already hear your protest that’s sitting on the tip of your tongue. He glares at you, daring you to speak them, but you don’t take the bait. You usually do.  Interesting.

“You bought a lot.” Quinn crawls over you.

His hand flattens over your sternum, effortlessly pushing you down.

Your pupils are so blown out when he levels his face with yours, his nose grazing yours, your breath mixing with his. He can smell the gum you chewed on before you arrived, the perfume you’ve sprayed behind your ears. Your eyes fall down his lips and up his eyes again, perfectly seducing him, but he refuses, moving away when you try to kiss him, your tongue darting out to entice him.

Not yet.

“Quinn,” you whine.

“Why’d you do it?” He asks. He kneels up, flipping you over your stomach, pressing a hand on your lower back to keep you from whatever you’re planning which is being  a brat.  

“I didn’t do anything,” you say with pout, shuddering when he slips his hand into your shirt. He unclasps your bra without exerting an effort, so used to your undergarments. “What are you doing? I haven’t showered yet.”

Quinn doesn’t fucking care if you showered or not. Since when did he care? He doesn’t care even if you come from a workout. He has fucked you like that. Many times. All sweaty and dirty. He already licked your sweat as he plunged deep inside your quivering pussy. You coming from a whole day of shopping is simple play for him. You’re just trying to get out of the inevitable punishment.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he rumbles against your ear. He slides his thick fingers under you so he can touch your tits. So soft. So perfect in his hands. Your nipples are so taut from anticipation and his attention. He pinches the sensitive peaks, your hips coming up to grind against him. He pulls away, receiving an unsatisfied groat. “Uh, uh. Answer me before you get what you want, you dirty slut.”

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp.

“That’s what you are, isn’t it?” He grits. He slides down one hand down your abdomen, down into the waistband of your skirt, down until he reaches and feels the wet patch on your panties. He presses and teases along your clothed slit. “See? So fucking wet. I barely touched you.”

“Quinn, please,” you plead, panting for more.

Why are you still not repeating your broken promise?

He’s getting so annoyed. He forces your clothes off, tearing every piece of clothing on your beautiful body. He ignores how much you complain, ignores your little ‘ouch’ because you’re full of shit. There’s no way it’ll hurt when he is tearing the fabric instead of pulling it against your fucking skin. Do you think he’s fucking stupid? Do you think he’ll hurt you that way?

He’s not a fucking rookie.

He keeps you down, spreading your legs by kneeling between them, watching how your pussy drips on the silk sheets, how your entrance quivers, begging to be filled. Languidly, he feels your folds. You feel so fucking good, so fucking soft, so fucking wet.

You gasp and moan like you’re already getting fucked. You’re just so sensitive, aren’t you?

Then he gives you a slap right there. On your dripping pussy. On your clit. His other hand grips your hip to keep you there when you attempt to crawl away, but he gives you another slap. Then another. Another.

You are moaning and writhing from the pain, begging him to stop, when you’re the one pushing your wet cunt against his palm. You keep seeking, even after briefly reeling away from every hit. Your eyes look over your shoulder, meeting his, begging and begging, mentally conveying, “More, more, more.”

Such a good slut.

His slut.

You’re his.

Quinn slides his middle finger into your heat, smirking at how your walls quivers around him. Your cunt is so red from his spanking. His thumb teases your other hole. You writhe, wantonly moaning, pathetically grasping the sheets for support.

You’re not running away now, huh?

Not when he is fingering you. Not when he pounds and puts pressure on that specific spot that has you screaming breathlessly. You want this so much. You’ve been waiting for a relief that he can easily give you.

He adds another finger, thrusting them into your pussy. Harder. Deeper. The squelching noises are music to his ears when it’s coupled with your moans and groans.

Then he feels the familiar pattern of your pussy walls. You’re going to come soon. He knows you so much. Knows your pussy more than you. Knows your little tells like how your thighs quiver, how your toes curl, how your back arches into the bed.

He knows it.

So, it’s so fucking easy to just…pull away.

You look back harshly. You look betrayed as your breaths come out choppy. Disbelief reflects in your eyes, not used to him not letting you come. He always makes you come. Not now though. Quinn takes his fingers from your arousal to his lips and slowly licks them, like he’s feasting on your pussy, groaning at how you taste. Fuck, you’re truly his favorite flavor.

“Quinn, I…” you call, your eyes tearing up. “You didn’t…”

He flips you over your back. He rests your ass over his thighs while your legs are spread out.

“Didn’t?” he mocks which you only process that as a question. You’ve already been dumbed by your pending orgasm, by your need for it.

“I didn’t come,” you whine, jutting your hips up the air, begging for another touch. “Please make me come.”

“Yeah,” he nods. That makes you smile, sighing in relief. Shaking his head, he silently says, “No.”

He doesn’t let you say another thing, plunging his fingers into your pussy. He fucks you fast and deep, thumb swiping over your clit just so perfectly, only to pull away when you’re on the verge of an orgasm.

By the third time, you finally understand what’s happening and you’re begging and begging.

Your pleas don’t reach him though.

They can’t. Not when he’s still not satisfied. Not when you still don’t say anything. However, the strange calmness that locked him is already dissipating the more he makes a mess out of you. The more beautifully and frustrated you cry.

Oh, his poor, sweet Love.

“Quinn, I’m sorry. I just wanna use my card.” You sob. “I’m sorry. Please. Please. I need to come. It’s been an hour.”

An hour?

You’re counting?

He pauses his torture, because you are finally talking.

You cover your face, hiding your fucked out face, hiding your beautifully blushing cheeks, hiding how your hair sticks to your skin.

“I saw you deposit money in my account again. I thought using my card would be a great revenge. Now, I know it’s not. This sucks! It hurts not to come. We both know you’re just going to pay the bill when it comes.” You sob, looking absolutely hurt and exhausted.

Quinn quickly pulls you up, soothing you with a hug. He sighs as you melt into his touch. You sniffle but your hand reaches between you two, tugging at his pants, trying to get to his cock.

“You have to make me come.” You beg, looking at him with your best puppy eyes. “Please?”

“You always beg so perfectly.” He tucks your hair behind your ears. “Wasn’t so hard to admit your wrongs, was it?”

“I know. I already said sorry—”

He cuts you off by pushing you back. He quickly tugs his pants down, pressing his dribbling cock to your pussy, shuddering at the feel of your trembling entrance. One swift thrust and he’s seated inside of you. Fuck. Your pussy is truly made for him. He perfectly fits. All of him. He can feel every crevice, every texture, every arousal that coats you deep inside. Shit. So good. He can come just by being inside of you, by feeling your tight pussy’s embrace. Did you know that?

But he knows that it’s not enough for you tonight.

You need him to fuck you, so he does. He fucked you hard and rough that your eyes are rolling up as you come. Even then you plead for more and more.

So he gives you everything. Changing the tempo here and there, going slow and deliberate, going back to a fast pace. He gives you everything because you deserve it.

Every time he feels that you’re about to come again, he whispers into ears, “That’s my good girl. Give me one more. That’s it. My good little slut. Take what you need. Come, my Love.”

Every time.

He draws out your fifth orgasm then he comes deep inside you, swearing loudly into your ear. He’s coming so hard that his eyesight dims. Your pussy milks every drop of his cum. How he still manages to flick your sensitive clit while he comes so hard is a mystery, but it doesn’t matter when you start to gush.

You’re making such a mess.

You always do.

“Quinn, oh my, fuck,” you cry out.

“It’s okay. I got you. Just let go, my Love,” he encourages, flicking your clit again and again, until you’ve successfully drench both of you. “No more?”

“No more. No more.” You shake your head, so he stops. “Kiss me.”

He obliges you, kissing you, whispering praises in between. You both spend minutes just kissing until you’ve calm down. Quinn gives you one last kiss before he stands to run a bath. He puts a few drops of lavender and chamomile oils in the tub. It’ll soothe you.

He comes back out to wrap you with a fresh and heated towel while the bath fills up. You look so spent, so Quinn holds you for a few more minutes, whispering more and more soft praises in your ear, because you’ve earned it.

When he hears the tub fill up, he takes you to it. He helps you in, tucking your hair behind your ears. “Just relax here. I’ll join you in a bit, okay?” He says as you settle. You nod at him as your eyes slowly blink. “I won’t take long. Don’t sleep. Not when I’m not here.”

��Okay, Quinny,” you say as you yawn. Your tummy rumbles. “Hungry.”

“I’ll get you a sandwich then I’ll make dinner after our bath. Sounds good?”

You smile at him.

His heart flutters, his stomach filling up with butterflies. He presses another kiss on your head, before he’s off, leaving you to have a little alone time. He got one thing in his mind.

He made his way to your bag that’s left behind on the floor. Humming a soft tune, he carries it to the counter, setting it down, as he takes out the ingredients for a sandwich. Just bread and your favorite jam. Washing his hands quickly, he fixes your sandwich, placing it on a plate. He also takes a fresh and cool bottle of water. It will do for a light snack before dinner, but he doesn’t take it immediately to you.

He sits on a stool, rummaging through your bag, finding your wallet.

He smiles at your photo with him there. It’s taken from a polaroid. He knows there’s another photo tucked behind it. It’s you and him in an ice rink that you had personally printed out. You’re truly cute.

He touches your face, heart pounding at how breathtaking you always look.

Even when you’re so fucked out, your beauty never changes. He can’t wait to grow old with you. He bet with everything he has and more that you will still look like the beautiful woman in the world, because you are.

Then he takes the credit card you’ve used today.

His smile never goes away as he stares at it for full minute.

Then he snips it in half and does the same to another and another.

Now, you only have one card left.

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[guiltyandashamed]

headcannons: insecure about yourself after seeing someone else (brothers + side characters)

(2.7k words) It happens on one of those rare, quiet afternoons when the two of you are out in the Devildom, The conversation is easy. Until it isn’t. She passes you like she owns the street, tall, poised, beautiful in a way that feels otherworldly. A succubus, maybe, or a siren, or some other kind of woman with an enchanting beauty, with the kind of confidence you’ve never had. Her smile lingers on them for a second too long, and though they barely glance her way, your stomach sinks. You know it's irrational, but suddenly you're hyper aware of everything you're not. You laugh a little too quickly at his next joke. You nod without really hearing. You hide it well, at least, you think you do.

Lucifer

He catches the shift in you almost immediately. The falter in your tone, the way your gaze drops to the ground, hands suddenly too still. He’s attuned to subtle changes, he’s had to be, as the eldest, the one who notices when things go unspoken. And when he sees you look at that passing woman with something quiet and sharp in your eyes, it clicks. He doesn’t comment right away. Instead, he adjusts his pace so that you’re closer to his side. The back of his hand brushes yours.

“You know,” he says softly, “I’ve spent centuries surrounded by beings who try to manipulate attention. But I’ve never once been distracted from what I choose to keep close.” He pauses, turning his head to look at you. “And that’s you.”

Lucifer isn’t always good at emotional tenderness. But when he sees you shrinking into yourself, it rattles him more than he shows. He doesn’t press for explanation. He simply gives you his steadiness, his presence, and a hand that lingers a little longer when he reaches for yours.

Mammon

At first, he doesn’t get it. You go quiet, your smile fades a bit, but you’re still walking next to him, still laughing at his dumb jokes, just a little less like yourself. Then it hits him. He remembers the look you gave that other woman, the way your eyes followed her, then dropped away like you didn’t want to be caught comparing. Mammon isn’t the best with emotional nuance, but when it comes to you? He notices everything.

He panics a little internally. Did he say something wrong? Did someone look at you weird? Why’re you suddenly not smiling the way you usually do when you’re with him?

So he stops walking, right in the middle of the street. “Oi. What’s with the face?” he asks, softer than usual. “Don’t think I didn’t notice.” You try to wave it off, but he shakes his head. “Look, I don’t care who walks by. You think anyone else even exists when you’re around?” His voice cracks a bit from the sincerity. “You’re it, alright? You’re my favorite damn view.”

Then he grabs your hand and keeps walking like nothing happened, but his grip stays firm the rest of the way.

Leviathan

Levi doesn’t catch on at first. He’s too in his head, muttering about a limited-edition figurine he spotted in a shop window. But when he looks over and you’re not reacting like you normally would, he stumbles. “Did I… say something weird?” he asks, immediately assuming it’s his fault. Then he remembers her, the siren who walked past with all the self-assured grace he thinks he’ll never have. And he sees how you looked after her, the quick withdrawal into yourself. His stomach turns. He knows that feeling. He lives that feeling. Being second-best. Invisible. Not enough.

So he sidesteps his usual awkwardness. “Hey, um… if you’re feeling... y’know, weird or off or like, not... good enough or whatever... can I just say—that’s a total crit fail on your perception roll.” You blink, caught off guard, and he rushes on, red in the face. “You’re like... S-tier. I mean that. You’re the only one I feel like I can be this version of me around.” He offers you his sleeve to hold instead of his hand, because he’s still Levi. But the sentiment couldn’t be more real.

Satan

It’s a fleeting moment, but he sees it. The stillness in your expression after the woman passes, the way your voice flattens ever so slightly. You think you’re hiding it well, but Satan knows you too intimately not to notice the cracks. And what really cuts is how you don’t say anything. You just swallow it down like it’s not worth bringing up. He walks in silence for a beat, processing. Then, softly: “She wasn’t even half as radiant as you are when you talk about something you love.”

You glance at him, surprised, and he meets your gaze without flinching. “I know you won’t tell me what you’re thinking. But I want you to know... I saw it. And I see you.” He reaches for your hand, not to pull you along, but just to hold it in his own. “You don’t have to be louder, or flashier, or anything other than who you are when you’re with me.”

He doesn’t push the topic, doesn’t ask you to explain. He just slows down his pace, like he’s willing to match your mood and walk with it for however long it takes.

Asmodeus

He absolutely notices the woman. It’s hard not to, she’s practically dripping with seduction magic. But Asmo’s glance is automatic, casual, already forgotten… until he sees the way you tense beside him. You mask it well, but not to him. You go quiet. You stop making eye contact. His heart sinks. “Oh, darling,” he says, suddenly stopping short and turning to face you. “You felt that, didn’t you?”

He can feel the shift in your energy, the way you’re pulling into yourself. His voice gentles, loses the usual lilt. “You don’t have to pretend with me, you know. I know what it’s like to feel like you’re not enough. Even I get insecure sometimes.” He offers a small, honest smile. “But when I look at you… there’s no one else I’d rather have beside me.”

Then he does something uncharacteristically quiet: he leans in, rests his forehead against yours, and whispers, “You’re beautiful. In ways she’ll never understand.”He doesn’t need you to say anything back. He just slips his arm around yours and holds on, tighter than before.

Beelzebub

He doesn’t notice the woman at all. He’s too focused on whether you’ve had enough to eat, if your shoes are comfortable, if you’re enjoying the walk. But he notices you, how your energy shifts, how your smile fades into something tight and practiced. You try to hide it, but Beel knows the rhythm of your emotions like he knows the beat of his own heart.

He slows his steps, gently bumping your shoulder. “You okay?” he asks, voice low and careful. You nod, of course. You always nod. He stares ahead for a while, chewing on the silence like it’s something hard to swallow.

“I don’t really care what anyone else looks like,” he says eventually. “I care about you. I care about how you laugh, and how you sit beside me even when I’m eating enough for five people. That means more than anything." Then, in that gentle, unwavering way of his, he takes your hand and carries the silence for you. No pressure. No expectations. Just warmth. Just Beel, anchoring you when you start to drift.

Belphegor

He sees her. He sees you seeing her. And he sees you instantly pull away from him in that quiet, invisible way: how your hand doesn’t quite brush his anymore, how your expression dulls like you’ve slipped into some private shadow you don’t want to name.

Belphie gets angry about it, not at you, but at the world that made you feel like you had to compare. That made you feel like less. His hand finds yours again, firmly. “You thinking dumb shit again?” he murmurs, voice heavy with sleep and something else… something protective.

You try to brush it off, but he doesn’t let go. “You’re not allowed to hate yourself around me,” he says simply. “That’s the rule.” He tugs you just a little closer, leaning his head on your shoulder as you walk. “If you’re gonna shut down, I’m still staying right here. Might even take a nap standing up just to prove a point.” It’s his way of saying: I see you. And I’m not going anywhere.

Diavolo

He notices the other woman, sure, but only because your hand suddenly feels smaller in his, your steps a little slower. You don't say anything, but Diavolo's joy dims as he watches you retreat into yourself. He’s not oblivious. His life has been full of people trying to catch his eye, but yours is the presence he’s grown to crave.

“Hey,” he says gently, stopping the both of you. “Look at me.” When you do, reluctantly, quietly, he leans down a bit to meet your gaze. “There is no spell, no charm, no allure that compares to you.” His tone is softer than usual, reverent even. “Do you think I fell for you because of some illusion? I’ve ruled a kingdom for centuries. I’ve seen beauty in a thousand forms. But no one has ever made me laugh the way you do. Or made me feel understood.”

He brushes a hand against your cheek with heartbreaking gentleness. “You don’t have to say what you’re thinking. Just… let me remind you of who you are to me.” He tucks your hand into his arm like it belongs there and walks on, making the whole Devildom feel like it orbits around you.

Barbatos

He senses the change in your mood before you even feel it fully. Your steps become measured, your energy tight. Barbatos is deeply attuned to the unspoken, and though he notices the woman too, he’s far more focused on how you subtly retreat into yourself. He doesn’t draw attention to it immediately. He simply shifts his body closer to yours, not pressing but present.

Then, after a quiet beat, he speaks. “It’s interesting, isn’t it?” he muses aloud. “How easily we mistake someone else’s flash for our own dimness.” You glance at him, startled, but he offers only a small, knowing smile.

“You shine differently. Not loudly. Not demanding. But with depth. Grace. Thoughtfulness. Anyone can catch the eye, but not everyone holds the heart.” Barbatos pauses, as though considering time itself. “And you hold mine.”

He doesn’t say much more, he rarely needs to. But when he offers you his arm again, you feel the strength of it, a quiet anchor reminding you: he chose you. And he always would.

Solomon

He notices everything, the woman, your reaction, the subtle shift in your posture. You’re trying so hard to hide it, but he knows the signs. He’s been around long enough to see that kind of pain wear grooves into people.

He doesn’t call it out directly. Instead, he tilts his head and says, “You know, I’ve met sirens who could stop armies with a single glance. But not one of them has ever made me want to stay.” He lets that hang in the air for a moment before adding, “You do.”

When you blink, unsure how to respond, he offers a rare, genuine smile, less teasing, more honest. “You’ve got a stubborn light in you. The kind that doesn’t need to scream to be felt. That’s what caught me.”

He’ll nudge your hand, light against his own, as if offering you the choice: speak or stay silent. Either way, he’s not going anywhere. “Come on,” he says, softer now. “Let’s go somewhere quieter. Just us.”

Simeon

He notices, not just the other woman, but the way you go quiet. How you withdraw without a word, folding into yourself like a page creased by habit. His heart aches, not just for your sadness but for the effort you make to hide it.

He slows his pace to match yours, letting the quiet settle before saying, “There’s a kind of beauty no glamour can touch.” You glance at him, unsure whether to brush it off. He offers you a gentle smile, the kind that makes it feel like the sun’s peeking through your clouds.

“I’ve lived among angels, watched starlight bloom in the Celestial Realm… but none of it has ever made me feel the way I do when I see you.” His words are soft, unflinching. “And I see you. Even when you try to disappear.”

Then, without asking, he loops his pinky with yours, quietly grounding, quietly sincere. “You don’t need to say anything. But I’m here. Always.”

Mephistopheles

He doesn’t notice right away, too busy monologuing about something minor and theatrical, until you suddenly stop contributing. It takes a few seconds for the silence to register, and then he glances at you. Your face is neutral. Too neutral. “Oi,” he mutters, nudging your side. “Where’d you go just now?”

You give him a practiced smile. It’s almost enough to fool him. He follows your gaze, sees the woman walking away, and instantly connects the dots. His jaw clenches, not out of jealousy, but fury at the self-doubt flickering in your eyes. “Pfft,” he scoffs, too loud on purpose. “Overdressed and underwhelming. Wouldn’t last a second in a real conversation. You? You could destroy me with one look, and that’s before you’ve had your morning tea.”

He says it like a joke, but his eyes betray the sincerity. “Next time your thoughts try to trick you like that… just tell them to shut up. Or let me do it for you.” Then he threads your arm through his dramatically. “Now come along, my love. You’ve got a face worth showing off.”

Thirteen

Thirteen clocks the siren in an instant, and rolls her eyes so hard it’s a wonder they stay in her skull. But when she looks back at you and sees the way you’ve suddenly gone quiet, the light dimmed in your expression, she stops dead in her tracks. “Hey. Don’t do that.”

You blink at her, startled. “Do what?” She squints at you, then squints harder. “That thing where you act like you're fine but you’re actually spiraling over some glittery bitch who couldn’t outsmart a single one of my traps.” You try to brush her off, but she doesn’t let you.

“Seriously,” she mutters, moving to stand in front of you. “I’ve seen you face down demons, chaos, me—and that’s what gets you? That?” She jerks her thumb back toward the siren. Then, more softly, “You don’t see it, but you level me. Every time you laugh. Every time you keep showing up.” She nudges you with her elbow. “You don’t gotta talk. Just… don’t disappear, okay?” Then she throws her arm around your shoulder and grins. “Let’s go cause trouble. Hot people like us can get away with anything.”

Raphael

He notices the subtle shift immediately, your quiet withdrawal, the way your gaze drops when the other woman passes by. He’s always been keen on observing the small details, and this one pulls at something deeper in him. Raphael rarely speaks out of turn, preferring to keep his thoughts measured and precise, but when he senses your mood darkening, he allows himself to be a little more direct. “Is something troubling you?” His voice is calm, steady—a gentle anchor in the swirling discomfort you feel.

You try to brush it off, but he doesn’t press. Instead, he stays close, matching his pace to yours as you walk. “You often doubt yourself,” he says quietly, “but I see strength in you that you don’t even realize you have.”

He pauses, looking at you with unshaken sincerity. “The world might throw illusions of beauty your way, but what matters most isn’t what you show on the surface. It’s the kindness you carry, the care you give, the healing you inspire. Those things don’t fade, no matter who passes by.”

Raphael offers you a small, rare smile, not the serene healer’s smile, but a warmer one meant only for you. “You are more than enough. And I am here, always ready to remind you of that.”

[girlsforxiao]

⎯ Listen to me ꒰ 𐙚 ꒱

⌢ ꒰੭. Jude bellingham x fem reader 𐙚 porn with plot, smut (mdni) fingering, creampie, jealous/makeup ?? sex

You and Jude are peacefully spending the last of his off days together until your ex calls...

︴a/n: I don't like this but I was inspired by this one post (ill link if I find, edit: found it ) so here it is <33 not proofread! Eng not my first language!

WC: 3K

The dim glow of candlelight bathed the table in warmth, casting shadows that flickered across Judes features. You sat across from him, your laugh soft and melodic, the kind of sound that always seemed to settle something restless in his chest.

“You’re really gonna eat all of that?” he teased, nodding at the plate of pasta you were twirling expertly with your fork.

You shot him a mock glare, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “I’m hungry, sue me.”

Jude leaned back in his chair, a slow grin spreading across his face as he watched you. You were stunning, your hair catching the light, eyes sparkling in that way that always made him forget everything else.

Tonight felt easy. Right.

And then your phone buzzed.

You glanced at the screen and froze for half a second—just long enough for Jude to notice. “I should get this,” you said, already sliding your chair back.

“Right now?” he asked, eyebrows raising slightly.

“It’ll just take a minute,” you assured him, giving his hand a quick squeeze before stepping away from the table.

Jude watched you retreat, the sway of your dress as you moved toward the quieter edge of the restaurant. You brought the phone to your ear, expression shifting, softening in a way that made something in his stomach tighten.

The candlelight between them flickered, suddenly feeling dimmer.

He couldn’t hear much from where he sat, just the low hum of your voice. You laughed at something, head tilting to the side, the smile on your lips beautiful, easy, familiar.

Jude’s jaw tightened, but he forced himself to look away, staring at the glass of wine in front of him instead. It was nothing, he told himself. People had exes. It wasn’t a big deal.

But his eyes betrayed him, snapping back to you as you shifted your weight, playing with a strand of hair behind your ear while the conversation stretched on.

When you finally returned to the table, sliding back into your seat, Jude gave you a small, tight smile.

“Everything okay?” he asked, his tone even, casual.

You simply nodded, setting the phone down face-up between them. “Yeah, just an old friend catching up.”

“Friend?” he echoed, leaning forward slightly.

You hesitated—barely, but he caught it. “My ex,” you quietly admitted with a shrug, like it was nothing. “We’re still on good terms.”

Jude nodded slowly, his eyes dropping to your phone. Good terms. Right.

He wanted to let it go, he really did, but the image of your smile while on the call refused to leave his mind.

The candlelight between you two seemed colder now, the distance across the table suddenly feeling much larger than it had just moments ago.

Jude leaned against the counter of your kitchen, sipping his coffee as you perched on the stool across from him. Scrolling through your phone, lips curved into a faint smile, the kind that usually made his heart skip.

But tonight, it wasn’t for him.

“Something funny?” he asked, keeping his tone light, casual.

You glanced up briefly. “Hmm? Oh, it’s nothing. Just—” the phone buzzed again, and you cut yourself off, thumbing the screen quickly to reply.

Jude loved you, he knew you loved him. You were his everything. You two have been together for a while now, you both knew eachother families and friends. But there was something deep in his spirit that was telling him to be cautious.

He watched you for a moment, the way your fingers danced over the keyboard, the way your smile lingered even after the message was sent. The coffee in his mug had gone cold, but he barely noticed.

“Who’s that?” he asked playfully, or atleast tried to, already knowing the answer.

You glanced at him, expression almost guilty before you tucked the phone away. “It’s just James,” you said, tone airy, dismissive.

James. The ex. Judes’s jaw tightened, but he nodded, keeping his face neutral. “He texts you a lot,” he said, an observation more than an accusation.

You frowned slightly, playing with a strand of hair behind your ear. “He’s going through a rough patch with his family,” you said. “We’re just friends, Jude. You know that.”

“Sure,” he said, setting the mug down with a little more force than necessary. “I mean, I’d text my ex too if I needed... emotional support.”

Your eyes narrowed, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. “Jude, it’s not like that. I know his family”

He pushed off the counter, running a hand over his shoulder. Habit. “Right. Of course not.”

It wasn’t just the texts.

You two were at your favorite diner a few days later, the last of Judes days off spent together.

But later, James showed up.

You spotted him first, face lighting up in a way that made Jude's stomach sink.

“James?” you called, waving him over before Jude could react.

He watched, stiff and silent, as James sauntered over, his easy grin making Jude ’s eyes roll.

“There you are,” James said, leaning in for a hug that lingered just a second too long. “It’s been a while.”

Jude forced a tight smile as James turned to him, extending a hand. “Jude. I'm more of an Atletico guy but you're incredible, great to meet you.”

“Yeah,” Jude said, gripping Jame's hand maybe a little harder than necessary. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

James laughed, settling into the booth beside Eve like he belonged there. “All good things, I hope.”

Jude didn’t respond, his jaw tightening as Simon and Eve fell into easy conversation, laughing about some inside joke he didn’t understand. He tried to focus on his food, on the soft hum of the diner, but all he could hear was the sound of bitter laughter.

He's worth millions of euros, he's played in some of the biggest stadiums, shaked hands with unimaginable stars across football but this James guy made him feel inexplicably small.

He knows he shouldn't feel this way. If James really was going through something, you were just being you. Helpful, loyal, kind. A fraction of reasons as to why he loved you. But he couldn't shake this weird feeling, maybe it was the athlete in him, used to trusting his gut.

By the time you both got back to your apartment, Jude's patience was hanging by a thread.

“Do you really not see it?” he asked, his voice sharper than he intended.

You frowned, kicking off your shoes by the door. “See what?”

“James,” he said, the name tasting bitter in his mouth. “He’s not just ‘an old friend,’ he wants you back.”

You sighed, walking closer to him, the pout on his face cute but it is not the time. “You’re overreacting, Jude”

“Am I?” he shot back, his frustration spilling over. “Because he seems pretty comfortable showing up wherever we are, calling you, texting you like he’s still—”

“Still what?” You interrupted, voice rising. “We’re friends. He's going through something. That’s it. You’re reading too much into this.”

Jude let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Right. I’m just the jealous boyfriend who doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

Before you could respond he walked away. Plopping himself on your couch, flicking through shows to watch.

The words hung in the air between the two of you, heavy and final, and for the first time in a long time, Jude didn’t know what to say.

Just two days left before Jude had to fly back to Madrid, he knew he had to hit the gym. Keep himself sane.

Jude's breath came in sharp bursts as he slammed the punching bag again, the thud of his fists echoing in the empty room. Sweat dripped down his temple, and his knuckles stung, but he didn’t stop. Not yet.

Jame's face kept flashing in his mind. The easy smile, the familiar way he leaned into your space, the way your laugh seemed brighter when she was around him.

Jude growled low in his throat, landing another brutal hit on the bag. He replayed the moments in his mind— the way Jame's eyes lingered on you when you weren't looking, the subtle flirtation in his tone, the way he always seemed to be in the right place at the right time.

Jude hit the bag again, harder this time, the chain creaking under the force.

“You alright, man?” one of the trainers called from across the room.

Jude sheepishly chuckled– snapping out of it, stepping back and shaking out his hands. “Yeah! More of a legs guy, guess I didn't know my own strength." He joked, moving towards the bench behind him.

For a moment, he considered confronting you, laying it all out, telling you exactly what he saw and how he felt. But the memory of the last argument lingered, you thought he was overreacting.

Was he?

Jude scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to shake off the heavy weight pressing down on him. If he wasn’t careful, his emotions would push you away.

But if he did nothing, if he just stood by and let that prick worm his way back into your heart...

Jude's jaw tightened. No. That wasn’t going to happen.

He stood, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat from his face. He needed a plan. Something to clear his head. Something to remind you—remind James—exactly who you belonged to.

Jude leaned back on the couch, arm draped over your shoulders as a movie played in the background. His focus wasn’t on the screen, though—not when your laughter bubbled softly from beside him. It was the kind of night he loved, just the two of you.

Then your phone buzzed.

You grabbed it, glancing at the screen. Jude caught the faint flicker of hesitation before you answered.

“Hey,” you said, tone lighter, warmer than he expected.

Jude’s eyes rolled as he heard the unmistakable voice on the other end. James.

You shifted slightly, body turning away from Judes as you spoke into the phone, your voice soft, almost playful. “Yeah, no, it’s fine. What’s up, everything okay?”

He tried to ignore it, eyes fixed on the TV, but every word exchanged felt like a needle under his skin. When the call ended, you set the phone down and gave him a small smile, but he didn’t return it.

“Really?” he asked, his voice calm but edged.

“Right, they always end up picking the house that's bound to be haunted,” You said, gesturing towards the screen.

“True– but I mean, James. Again.”

"Here you go, reading too much into things, can we just enjoy the movie?"

“You’re so fucking annoying,” he breathed suddenly, as he moved on top of you “I’m reading too much into this? Seriously?”

You felt heat rise in her chest, your confusion bubbling over into anger. And an odd sensation between your thighs now that he hovered over you. The sudden movement really making you look at him.

“I’m being annoying? You know what, Bellingham? Maybe James should—”

Before you could finish his lips hungrily chased yours, you almost instantly forgot why you were heating up but gently you lay your hand against his chest, a weak attempt to push him off.

When he broke the kiss you let out a quiet whine, he picked up on it and smirked while sitting back and (unfortunately) climbing off of you. But it was too late, you changed your mind, you need him. You could care less about James. This movie was too predictable anyway.

"I'm sorry– it's just you don't fucking listen,'" he breathed as you straddled his lap. It was your turn to be on top of him.

“You don’t trust me now? Is that what this is about?” you whispered, your desperation met with deep brown eyes.

“It’s not about you,” he murmured, his voice tight and raspy from the kiss. “It’s about that fucking prick. About the way he looks at you, like he thinks he still has a shot. Like he doesn’t care that you’re my girl. My everything."

“I fucking hate sharing you,” he said softly, “Even a little bit. Even for a moment. I want you all to myself. Sorry."

Your voice catches a gasp as his lips glide down your throat. Involuntarily your body presses against his, warmth rushing to your cheeks. "Don't be sorry...James is..."

His hands start to slowly roam your body, earning gasps from you as your back arches, legs tightening around him. Your body sinfully reacting to his touch.

“Jude, he's not...”

“Shh,” he murmurs, lips pressed to your neck, sending tiny shivers through your body every time he speaks.

“Shh. Be good. Listen to me.”

His hands snake towards your shorts, fingertips like fire against your skin. His lips graze a tender spot just above your collarbone, causing heat to bloom between your thighs, you want to scream.

"Why are you so annoying?" He sighed as he pulled your shorts down then your underwear, fondling your ass as you moaned, at a lose for words, "Jude..."

"I'm going back to train soon and you've been spending all your time with him?" His hand moving between your folds. His fingers moving in slow lazy circles over your clit, your face drops to the crook of his neck,

"Could he make you feel like this?"

You shook your head almost violently, "Jude– nghh! Please..." He smirked—not something you could hear, but something you felt, soft and electric against your skin.

He traced a finger between your folds, taking note of how wet you were. He's barely touched you. "I hope this wetness," he slips a finger inside, "Is for me." Your body jolts like a surge of electricity has ran through you.

You whimper, an intense knot forming in your stomach. Your legs began to tremble as your pussy is stretched around the second finger, you kissed him, sloppy and wet. Afraid of the vulgarity that was about to escape your lips if you didn't keep your mouth occupied. His long fingers started thrusting in and out of you and you couldn't take it.

"Jude I'm gonna—!" before you knew it you'd drenched his hand in your release, panting heavily as you gaze at him. His eyes now half lidded looking at you like you were the only thing in the world.

For a moment you just stare at eachother then he went in for another kiss, starting off soft but quickly turning hungry, wet.

You felt his hand move around beneath your legs then you realized he'd taken his shorts off too, "You'll take me like a good girl, yeah?" But before you could answer he plunged inside of you, instantly you clenched around him, Jude wasting no time bucking into your wet pussy.

You rock your hips, Jude tries to suppress his moans but he too has been lost to lust, both of you filling your living room with moans of pleasure and the sounds of harsh slapping skin. You catch his stare, intense and searing, as if he’s memorizing every detail of you. The way you whimpered for him, the way your breath trembled against his skin...

You feel his cock twitch inside of you, then you feel the knot in your stomach again, tighter this time. Through the squelches and grunts you cry, "Ohmygod Judejudejude 'mgonna come, fuck–" he cut you off with a kiss to the corner of your mouth, "Be quiet–" he grunts out followed by a thrust that makes your eyes shoot open.

Thick streams of cum burst in you, your arms weakly curling around him for support. As both your breaths steadied, he gently helped you off him. Juices still oozing out of you.

He cleaned you up with care and handed you a fresh pair of underwear and shorts. The room had fallen into a quiet, peaceful stillness, save for the faint hum of the night outside and the movie credits rolling on the tv.

Jude leaned back against the couch, his chest still rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. You now rested against him, your head on his shoulder, hand tracing idle patterns over his chest.

Neither of you spoke for a long time, the earlier tension between you both had softened now, replaced by something warm.

Jude was the first to break the silence, his voice low and hesitant. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

You tilted your head to look at him, fingers pausing against his skin. “For what? or is this post-nut clarity?” you joked, earning a 'hey!' from him.

“No seariously, for… losing it back there,” he admitted, his brown eyes focused on the ceiling as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to meet your gaze. That's why he was looking at you so much during sex. It was easier. “I shouldn’t have let it get to me like that.”

You frowned, propping yourself up slightly to look at him more directly. “Jude, you were upset. It’s okay to feel that way.”

“But I didn’t listen, neither did you but,” he said, his tone heavy with regret. “I let my jealousy get the better of me instead of trusting you like I should have.”

You sighed softly, your hand moving to his cheek to guide his gaze back to yours. “You’re allowed to feel jealous, Jude. I get it. I should’ve seen how all this was affecting you sooner. My words of post-nut clarity, if you will.” you giggled.

His lips twitched into a smile, you werent sure if it was at your lame joke though. “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he said, his voice quieter now. “It’s just… I know how these things can go. How people can linger where they’re not wanted. And I guess… I don’t want to lose you to someone who doesn’t deserve you.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” you said softly, leaning in to press you forehead against his. “James is my past, Jude. You’re my present—and my future.”

He closed his eyes at your words, a shaky exhale leaving his lips as he wrapped his arms around you again, pulling you even closer. “You have no idea how much I needed to hear that,” he whispered.

"There is something else though," he said and you looked at him again, "Hm?"

"Do you have a thing for the letter 'J'?"

You smiled against his skin, your voice lightening as you teased, “Maybe."

PLEASE REBLOG IF U LIKED THIS...MWAH <3