#((Let me know if you want to change anything. ^.^))

[ryosbaby]

threatening plug!toji that you'll replace him since he wants to start charging you now.

toji let out a deep sigh as he stepped outta the car, door clicking shut behind him.

“you know you still owe me from last time, yeah?” he muttered, brows drawn. “ain’t givin’ you shit for free no more.”

his voice was low, rough around the edges. looked tired too—but more annoyed than anything else.

you shrugged innocently, “thought you let that slide already.”

he huffed a dry laugh, leaning back against the car, arms crossing over his chest. his shirt rode up just a bit, flashin’ a strip of muscle at his waist.

“angel, i been doin’ you favors left and right,” he said, head tilted. “‘m runnin’ a damn business here.”

“this ain’t no charity, alright?”

his eyes dragged over you, slow and a little amused, one brow quirking as he gave you that look—the one that always made your stomach twist a bit.

“can’t just be handin’ shit out ‘cause you bat your lashes.”

he reached into his pocket, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it without breakin’ eye contact. took a long drag, then blew the smoke out to the side completely disregarding the 'no smoking sign' plastered on the wall of the parking lot.

“so,” he said, smoke curling past his lips, “what d’you need this time, sweetheart?”

“change my mind…” you muttered, already reaching for your phone. “’m just gonna call sukuna 'm sure he's gon—”

before you could even finish, toji rolls his eyes as he grabbed your arm, fingers wrapping tight as he yanked you back.

“fuckin’ ungrateful,” his voice dropped, rough and low in your ear. “i give you whatever the hell you want most times—you don't pay for shit—don’t even charge you full price when you do bother payin’.”

“toji—"

the smoke from his cigarette hit your face a second later cutting you off, sharp and deliberate, as he leaned in close. too close.

“yet you run to him?” his grip tightened just a little more, not enough to hurt—but damn near close. “that what we doin’ now?”

then you felt it—his body pushing you back ‘til your spine hit the side of the car with a soft thud, heat radiating off him. he was solid, sweat clinging to his skin, his scent mixing with the smoke and whatever cologne he threw on in.

“was just playin’,” you said quickly, lips twitching into a pout. “you get mad at me so quickly."

his fingers hooked under your chin, tilting your face toward his with zero patience.

“do i look like i’m in a playful fuckin’ mood, baby?”

you rolled your eyes just a little. “no… but you never are.”

he let out a low chuckle, but there was no real humor behind it.

“i said i was sorry,” you muttered, softer this time.

he watched you for a second too long, like he was deciding whether to let it go. then his hand slid down to your waist, gripping it firm.

“don’t say sorry. just don’t go actin’ like i’m not the one who fuckin’ takes care of you, yeah?”

“i know that,” you said, voice quiet but steady. “i wasn’t actually gonna call him. was just tryna piss you off.”

“oh, i know,” he said, dragging his gaze over you slow. “my angel’s a good girl.”

he leaned in again, smoke curling past your face, his lips ghosting close.

“c’mere.”

he leans in and presses his lips against yours, his hand on your hip gripping it harder, his body completely trapping you against his car and himself. his tongue runs over your bottom lip, demanding entry into your mouth. he's always too fast.

he moves his other hand to your thigh, grabbing it before lifting you and pinning you against the car. his massive body pressed tightly against you, you can feel his muscles flex under his shirt against you. His lips moved against yours more hungrily, his tongue exploring your mouth now.

he let out a small groan against your lips, his tongue exploring your mouth with more need. his grip on your hip and thigh tightened as he pushed his body against yours, pinning you tightly against the car. he broke the kiss for a moment to let you breathe before diving back in, his lips attacking your neck now. his head moved down slightly to your nape, his hot breath and lips on your skin.

he began to trail kisses down your neck, his lips and tongue sucking on a few spots. He started to bite and nibble on the skin of your neck, leaving a few marks. his hand that held your hip started to travel under your top, his large hand grabbing onto your waist.

"whaddya need again?” toji muttered, eyes dragging over you. “don't gotta pay cash no more. i got a cheaper option.”

you gave him a look. “cheaper?” toji never offers fair deals .

“mhm, way cheaper," he hummed against your neck, his tongue licking one of the marks he left on your skin. one of his legs slipped between your thighs, pushing against you softly.

"you'll like it baby don't worry, so...ya up for it?"

you looked at him, not really thinking about it just appreciating how your plug look, “whatever you want, toji."

he completely got you.

he bit slightly on your neck at those words.

"such a good girl.." he mumbled against your skin, his hand on your waist moving up your top, his palm touching your bare skin

"c'mon get inside the car and fucking delete sukuna's number."

extra. messages with plug!toji

[okaylikeschaewon]

Undeserved

~6k words, Dating Seraphs Part 11

“How much longer do you plan on waiting?”

“What was I supposed to do?”

“How about, I don’t know, talk to her?” Sakura snaps back sarcastically, mouth agape and eyes wide, feigning shock with that tiny head shake she does. “Crazy idea, I know.”

You let a heavy breath escape your lips – you know she’s right. It still leaves you feeling dejected, but it’s hard to complain when you’re the one who asked her to join you for dinner.

“It’s not that simple,” you mutter, squishing a fry between your fingers, squeezing it until the potato mush spills out. “Thanks for coming by the way, I know you’re busy this week.”

“I’m just here for the free meal,” Sakura replies with her cheeks full. “We had most of the day off anyway.”

“You know, I never really understood that,” you lean back and drop the fry. “Even back in the day, buying you food was always the answer to everything. Angry? Food. Happy? Food. Tired? Food.”

Sakura brings a hand up to cover her mouth before she speaks. “What? A girl can’t like food? Is that really such a foreign concept to you?”

“I’m just saying, I don’t get why an idol would go crazy over food as if they can’t afford any meal they want.”

“It’s more about the concept of free food,” Sakura pauses to take a sip. “Like, a free sandwich beats one I buy for myself. See this?” she holds it up. “This is amazing.”

“How? If it’s the same sandwich–”

“You just won’t get it,” Sakura shakes her head with a sigh, already fed up with you. “There’s also the freedom to get whatever we want when someone is treating us. Although, now that I think about it, the company doesn’t really track me anymore. I guess I’ve been around long enough for them to stop worrying so much.”

“Ah right, strict diets,” you sit back up. “Well, you make sure to take care of your body, that’s probably why they don’t press you as much anymore.”

“Implying they had to before? I guess I didn’t take care of my body,” Sakura casually picks up her sandwich and admires it, calculating her next bite. “That’s sweet of you.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Right,” Sakura replies curtly. “I eat too much and don’t take care of my body, I hear you.”

“I meant they trust you now,” you roll your eyes. “And for good reason, you look great lately.”

“Lately?”

“Sakura…”

She chuckles quietly. “I’m just giving you shit, I know what you're trying to say. I appreciate it.”

“You really haven’t changed at all.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” she smirks before taking the last bite of her sandwich.

“Bit of both, I guess,” you answer quietly, pushing your tray forward.

Sakura frowns and her eyes soften with empathy. “You barely touched your food,” she notes gently after swallowing her bite.

“I didn’t have much of an appetite to begin with honestly.”

“The fuck?”

“What?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sakura demands. “We didn’t have to go out, we could have just chilled somewhere quiet. Why would you offer to take me out to dinner if you weren’t hungry? You know how much I hate when you do this.”

“Didn’t you just say your sandwich is amazing?” you laugh.

“Well, yeah–”

“And that’s why I didn’t say anything,” you flash her a small smile. “Like I said, you really haven’t changed at all.”

Sakura’s shoulders slump and she gives you that ‘really?’ look. “That’s not fair,” she whines.

“It’s not like I’m throwing it out,” you chuckle. “I’ll pack it to go. Maybe I’ll leave it in your fridge for you to have tomorrow.”

“You’re annoying,” Sakura pouts as you flag down your waitress. “I never would have agreed to this if I knew you weren’t eating.”

“I know,” you respond, barely paying attention to her as the waitress walks over. “Kinda reinforcing my point Kkura.”

There’s a bit of a pause while you start packing your leftovers into the box. Sakura’s glaring at you, and you’re waiting for her to say what you know she wants to say.

“You can keep pouting or you can spit it out.”

“At least let me pay,” she pleads.

“We both know I don’t need that,” you chuckle. “I invited you for your company, the food was secondary.”

She frowns, but this time it’s not with anger, it’s more supportive and empathetic.

“Look, it’s just like we talked about this morning in the car,” she starts. “Just go, be honest with everything, and then whatever happens next isn’t in your control.”

You look up to face her again. “I get that, but that’s also exactly what’s making it so tough,” you reply. “Maybe I moved too fast, maybe I fucked up.”

“Oh my God, shut up with that,” Sakura rolls her eyes. “Maybe you did fuck up, maybe you’ll regret it one day, but I saw that glow you had this morning when you walked out of our room. That smile? I didn’t need details, I could see it, your dumbass was not regretting the decision this morning.”

“W-We just talked–”

“I said I don’t need details,” Sakura repeats firmly while crossing her arms.

“Sorry,” you notice the subtle blush of her cheeks – Kazuha probably told her anyway. You hesitate for a moment.

“I’m not judging you for it,” Sakura reads your mind. “Especially not after seeing Kazuha also with that same glow. She really likes you, don’t fuck this up.”

“Thanks,” you mumble quietly, a bit embarrassed.

“But promise me one thing,” Sakura uncrosses her arms and leans forward. “Please talk to Chaewon before you and Kazuha…” her voice trails off. “She doesn’t need to know about this morning, but please do right by Chaewon and talk to her soon, she deserves at least that much.”

“I know,” you sigh, standing up in your chair. “I’ll talk to her tonight. I promise.”

—

“Do you think I could talk to Zuha, for just a minute?”

Sakura makes a face, eyes squinted and full of judgement. “You get a minute before I’m walking in, and I better not see something that I don’t want to see,” she crosses her arms and steps aside.

“Thanks,” you give her a quick side-hug before entering their room.

Inside, Kazuha is sitting on the floor stretching with her phone propped up in front of her. Once she notices you, she immediately takes out her earbuds and hops to her feet.

“Hey,” she smiles warmly.

“Hey,” you walk up to her and place your hands on her hips. “I’m sorry for ignoring your message, I was caught up with dinner and then driving.”

“It’s fine, I wasn’t worried,” she places her arms around your shoulders.

“Zuha,” you move a little bit closer. “Be honest with me. Do you think we’re moving a bit too fast?”

“Yeah,” she answers without missing a beat, catching you a bit off guard. “This might be my first attempt at some sort of relationship, but even I know how much of a risk we’re taking.”

“A risk…” you whisper under your breath. You’re not entirely sure what you were expecting her to say, but it wasn’t that. “And you’re okay with that?”

“Are you?” she asks quietly.

You hesitate for a moment to think before answering.

“Well…”

“It’s Chaewon,” Kazuha interrupts. “Isn’t it?”

“I guess that wasn’t very hard to deduce,” you sigh. “Yeah, I have no idea how she’s going to react.”

Kazuha drops her hands off your shoulders and flashes you a pursed-lip smile while taking a step back.

“It’s not too late to just forget about this,” Kazuha says softly.

“No,” you squeeze your hold on her hips and pull her back.

“I’m not changing my mind or anything,” Kazuha clarifies quickly. “I’m just being realistic.”

“Realistic?”

“This morning, you came to me and asked me to be your girlfriend,” Kazuha explains slowly. “I guess, in the moment, I answered with my feelings before really thinking about how this would even work.”

“I probably jumped the gun,” you admit softly. “I was also acting on feelings, without really thinking.”

“Right, and that’s not something I’m blaming you for,” Kazuha continues. “But are you… are you going to break up with Chaewon? How does this even work?”

“If we’re going to be together, properly,” you start slowly. “I think I’ll have to, yeah.”

“What if I said you don’t?” Kazuha whispers, avoiding your gaze.

A rush of warmth quickly shoots through your body. “What?” you stammer.

“I just mean, you should talk to her about it first before we decide anything,” Kazuha explains with a meek smile. “She’s one of my best friends, and I know you still love her, so I don’t want you to break up with her for nothing. This won’t work without her… permission? I don’t know if that’s the right word.”

“But Zuha…”

“There’s really nothing you can say to convince me,” Kazuha interrupts. “I really like you, and I want this. Really want this. But it all depends on what Chaewon says, if she’s… I’m sorry but… I won’t be able to…”

“Alright,” you agree, but deep down you know there’s no chance Chaewon doesn’t get hurt by all of this. You don’t know what to do anymore, and the feelings of losing both of them start to settle in. How can you even consider what Kazuha is suggesting? It doesn’t feel fair to either girl.

“If it’s any consolation,” Kazuha says softly. “Reality is, we can’t undo what we did.”

“And I wouldn’t even if we could.”

“Me neither,” she smiles and steps a little bit closer and stares right into your eyes. “I meant what I said about you, and if you meant what you said about me…”

You lean in and close your eyes, moving forward slowly until you feel the softness of Kazuha’s lips against yours. That sweet, delicate emotion that you yearned for, it simply washed away your worries in the most cliché way possible. As your tongue slowly eases into Kazuha’s mouth, you forget about the messiness, you forget about any conflictions.

At some point without realizing it, you’ve started moving forward, slowly edging Kazuha backwards until her body presses against the wall. You let go of her hips and caress her face with your palms as your lips part just slightly, only to immediately press back together. Her hands end up on your back.

She’s more comforting than you could have imagined, and you can almost feel literal heat emanating from her body right into yours. The kiss burns with this intense passion, intoxicating and obsessive, you feel Kazuha’s nails clawing at your skin, digging absentmindedly into your body. You hardly remember to breathe.

Then, as you’re leaning into the kiss, you feel her entire body jolt.

“Ah!” she lets out a small squeal.

“What happened?” you quickly pull back.

She scrunches up her face in frustration – it’s beyond adorable – as she reaches up behind her and takes a clip out of her hair. “It got caught,” she giggles, holding the clip up in front of you.

“Stupid clip,” you take it from her hands and toss it out the open window before leaning in for another kiss.

Kazuha lets out another quick giggle before she returns the kiss. She pushes her tongue against yours, intertwining and twisting playfully. She even eases a hand up the back of your shirt, sliding her fingers against your skin.

She gives you the courage to slide your hands down her body. You get to appreciate the curves, that impossibly toned core of hers, each muscular little ridge of her skin against your fingers. You squeeze your hands around her hips until they’re planted against her lower back.

Carefully, you move a tiny bit lower. You’re hesitant, but that doesn’t last long as Kazuha starts leaning deeper into the kiss. You start sliding your hands lower until they’re resting against her ass, and she doesn’t hesitate for even a moment. Not when you give her a little pat, and not when you grab her ass hard with your entire palm.

Her body is unreal, you can’t even believe how good she feels – so soft, yet toned. You give her ass another slap and her body jerks before she pulls you closer and pushes her tongue deeper into your mouth. She gives you a light, playful bite on the lips before finally moving back.

Your lips slowly part and you’re left smiling at each other for a moment, just taking it all in. You can’t believe how beautiful she looks right now, so soft and delicate, so pure.

“I’m gonna need that clip back at some point,” she giggles in a hushed tone.

“Spur of the moment,” you laugh softly. “I’ll go find it later.”

She giggles one last time before pushing you away. As she walks past you, the door clicks and Sakura enters the room, glaring at you.

“One minute?”

—

Chaewon’s door is staring you in the face. She’s inside. Waiting. Still, you’re standing in front of it, trying to think of any excuse – but there is none. You have to get this over with, whatever happens, you need to tell Chaewon. It was time.

“Are you lost?”

“Hmm?” you look back over your shoulder to see Yunjin staring at you, confused.

“I’ve been watching you for like three minutes now,” Yunjin chuckles. “You didn’t even hear me come up the stairs.”

“Sorry, I’ve just been… I don’t actually know what I’m doing…”

“It’s a funny coincidence,” Yunjin walks up next to you. “But I ran into Sakura doing the same thing this morning outside of her room.”

“Oh?”

Yunjin leans a bit closer and speaks quietly. “She gave me a bit of a rundown of the situation.”

“So you know why I’m standing here?” you let out a feeble chuckle. “And you probably hate me now.”

“I don’t hate you, don’t be an idiot,” Yunjin hits your arm. “I understand what you’re going through, and I also understand it’s not easy, even if I don’t know all the details.”

You sigh deeply. “Well, Yunjin, my advice to you, one girl at a time.”

“Don’t tell me how to live my life,” Yunjin chuckles as she walks over to her room. “Good luck with everything, rooting for you!”

The sound of Yunjin’s door closing echoes through your ears as you muster up the courage to rap your knuckles against the wooden door twice before turning the handle.

“Chae?” you announce through the crack. “You there?”

“Yeah, come in,” she calls back.

You open the door wider and enter, taking a moment to close it behind you before walking over to Chaewon’s bed. She’s sitting with her knees up and her phone in hand, watching you with a tiny smile on her face, one that screams ‘happy to see you, but exhausted’.

“Hey,” she sighs softly.

“Long day?” you take a seat on the bed next to her legs. She straightens them out and you open your body up to her while placing a hand on her thigh, massaging it delicately.

“Long week,” she smiles meekly, tossing her phone to the side. “I basically slept all day, my body just wasn’t having it.”

“I’m glad you finally got some rest,” you reply softly as your gaze fixes itself onto the hand you were lightly pressing into her thigh.

Chaewon reaches forward and lays her hand on top of yours. “What’d you get up to all day? You eat dinner yet?”

“Yeah, right before coming here,” you answer quietly.

“Good, good,” Chaewon continues gently. “So,” she draws out the word extra long. “Your text said you needed to talk about something?”

“Right,” you stare down at your lap for a moment before taking in a deep breath and looking up at her. “I’m just going to get straight to the point. Do you remember when you told me that if I ever was to develop some sort of feelings for Zuha, that I needed to tell you?”

“Ah…” Chaewon pulls her hand back. “That’s right, I did say that.”

“Well, I spent some time with her this morning…” you pause and watch as Chaewon leans over to grab a couple of tissues.

She places them on her lap and looks up at you again. “What? Keep going, these are just in case I need them after what you’re about to tell me.”

“Chae,” you whisper as you scoot closer to her. “I need to tell you the truth.”

She tries to smile through it, clearly incapable of forming words, settling for a small nod as her eyes already start to shine.

“I’ve been think–”

“Did you have sex again?” Chaewon blurts out.

It catches you off guard and you freeze.

“This morning,” Chaewon continues as her cheeks burn red and her eyes glow. “You said you spent some time with her this morning… I was just curious.”

“We–”

“It’s fine if you did. I told you it’s okay,” she adds. “I’m not upset.”

“Chae…” the word hardly has time to escape your lips before tears begin streaming down Chaewon’s face. You lean forward and wrap your arms around her.

She squeezes back and you tighten your grip, holding her body against yours. You rub her back gently with one hand while the other caresses the back of her head.

“So it is true,” Chaewon sniffles into your shoulder. “I’m not enough.”

“Don’t–,” you choke up, voice cracking. “It’s not like that.”

The two of you hold each other in silence for a moment, steadying the other, trying to stop the other from trembling. She takes in a deep breath and leans away from you, eyes bloodshot.

“Knew I’d need these,” she lets out a small, pained laugh as she takes a tissue and dabs at her eye before holding one up for you to take.

“I wish it wasn’t like this, but it’s not about you being enough or not,” you say, rejecting the tissue and letting your tears flow freely down your face. “I just think I might have feelings for her, and that has nothing to do with you not being good enough.”

Chaewon lets her hands drop into her lap. “If I was a better girlfriend–”

“Don’t,” you intervene firmly. “You’ve been nothing short of perfect.”

“But–”

“That’s the only reason I’m even coming to you and being honest about everything,” you continue. “Because I trust you. And love you.”

Chaewon’s lower lip trembles as she fights back a fresh wave of tears. “I love you too.”

You give her a moment to compose herself before you continue.

“But I need to know what we’re going to do about this,” you add softly. “I… I do want to see things out with her.”

A single tear slides down her face, unwiped.

“I am so sorry,” you rub your eyes with the back of your hand as the sight of her launches you over an emotional cliff. “So, so, so fucking sorry for being an asshole. You deserve so much better.”

“You’re not an asshole,” Chaewon mutters, her voice cracking under her feelings. She stares at you with dewy eyes, beautiful as ever, and then she hesitates for a moment before sniffling and speaking up again. “Do… are you… what do you want to do exactly?”

“I… I don’t know.”

Chaewon chuckles as she wipes her eyes again. “I think you should see it through with Zuha.”

It feels as if the world around you stops. A wave of heat courses through your body as you question whether or not you heard her correctly. It almost hurts, even though this is your decision, it almost feels like Chaewon is breaking up with you.

“I think that’s the most fair, for everyone,” Chaewon continues softly. “You see it through with Zuha. Properly. And then we have this talk after.”

“But what about you? How is that at all fair to you?”

“I also played a role in this whole situation, it’s messy I know,” she replies. “You’re not allowed to blame yourself for anything, it was my idea, you were against it from the start. And if you have feelings for Zuha, it’s not fair for me to take that away from you.”

“So are we–”

“No,” she cuts you off with fresh tears suddenly streaming down her face. “Please don’t say what you’re about to say. Not yet.”

“Then what exactly–”

“I don’t know,” her words quiver. “Wherever we end up, we figure it out together, eventually. Just not now.”

“But… Chae–”

“No matter what happens,” she continues firmly. “We stay on good terms. No matter what.”

“I…”

“Promise me,” her lip quivers again. “I love you, and I love Zuha, that will never change.”

You hesitate again. You want to believe her, you really do, but you’re scared.

“Promise me,” she repeats, with less conviction than before, the syllables faltering.

Each second feels like a lifetime. Her words weigh heavy, and you want to reassure her, you want to tell those beautiful, vulnerable eyes that everything will work out – but you don’t know. You’re just as scared as she is, looking through the wall of emotions built by all the memories you two share. Your head is spinning, and every moment that passes instills more doubt into Chaewon. You hate yourself for it; You feel stuck. The worst of it all is how undeserved it feels.

Kazuha flashes into your mind. This feels wrong, for her sake too. The feeling is suddenly replaced by Chaewon. The girl sitting right in front of you, your girlfriend, refusing to let things end while still reassuring you that it’ll work out. Nothing makes sense. You’re bouncing between the girls, trying to figure out what the fuck you are supposed to do.

It’s impossible to believe her, despite how hard you try. You’re not convinced, but there’s no other option. You don’t know how to stop yourself from doubting your choice, and seeing Chaewon like this reminds you, clear as day – you’re definitely still in love with her.

“I promise,” you reassure her against your better judgement.

“Good,” she whispers before leaning closer to you.

“Babe…” your heart starts pumping as Chaewon moves closer.

“I love you,” she whispers right in front of your face before she leans in and kisses you.

It’s so sudden, you don’t even have a chance to think. A rush of emotion shoots up your spine. You shut your eyes against a wave of sudden tears and you wrap your arms around her. Your hands pull her close, pressing into her body as you kiss her, tenderly and slowly.

With mouths still glued together gently, you end up on top of her. She’s on her back, taking short breaths whenever your lips part, just for you to press your mouth forward again and again. You can feel her hands, one on your back and the other on your nape. Your hands slide down to her hips before easing around her body, resting against her lower back.

Her warmth is like a blanket, engulfing you, filling you with feelings that you didn’t know could exist. Your love for this girl comes flooding back in, overwhelming you. It makes your body scream. You’re pressing into her, and her legs wrap around your hips, locking you in place.

She wants you just as much as you want her, mutual addiction, and it’s making your heart ache. All the tears and choked-up words suddenly didn’t matter as you’re both fumbling with each other’s clothes. It takes forever, and a lot of effort – mostly because neither of you would let the kiss stop – but eventually you find yourself lined up between Chaewon’s legs.

Finally, the kiss ends, and you’re staring down at Chaewon. She’s there beneath you, flat on her back, eyes more tender than ever, face still stained with tears. Time freezes. Not for a second or a minute, but for what seems like hours or days. You stare into each other’s eyes, reliving all the memories you share.

And then you ease into her.

A sharp gasp escapes her lips and she tilts her head back, shutting her eyes tight as you push yourself all the way into her before opening them back up slowly.

This time feels different. Not a good nor a bad different. Just, different. You can’t really make sense of it as you hold steady inside her tight warmth for a moment before falling forward and pressing your lips to hers. You start moving your hips slowly, inundated by her love, fumbling around the bed with your hands until you find hers.

She interlocks her fingers with yours and squeezes hard, and at the same time Chaewon wraps her legs around you once more. She won’t let go of you, not with any part of her, it’s not an option.

And you won’t let go of her.

You start pumping your hips faster, the intensity building between your legs. Your mouth slips off hers and starts digging into the crevice of her neck. You’re kissing and sucking on her skin, desperate. Consumed. The more you get, the more you want. You’re greedy for Chaewon.

It feels better than a dream, a lucid trip, and Chaewon’s the drug. Your body enters a state of higher existence and you start to lose track of yourself. It feels divine, like if ecstasy was being pumped straight into your brain – but there’s no drug – only Chaewon.

Suddenly, she’s on top. You have your back against the headrest, and Chaewon’s straddling your lap. She lowers her body onto you while you wrap your arms around her tiny frame and pull her close. You kiss her clavicle as she tightens around your body.

“I love you,” she whispers into your ear.

Her arms are wrapped around your head, and she’s holding onto you for dear life. Her body moves with yours – flowing gently like a river. She falls forward a touch as you bring your knees up and ends up kissing you on the mouth.

You’re kissing her too, no hesitation, no second thoughts, and your hips are jamming up into her body with an intensity that matches hers, while still maintaining a degree of affection that you don’t think anyone in this world deserves more than the girl sitting on your lap.

Your hands slide down her body and dig into her soft bottom, opening her wider, getting you deeper. There’s this connection, one that words cannot explain. For a moment, you forget the world, and you let yourself drown in Chaewon’s passion.

She feels perfect. You want nothing more than to live in this moment forever – as if that was an option. She’s breathing softly, each bounce and each thrust sending her to another universe. She’s just as obsessed as you, she wants this and her body is screaming to you in ways that don’t need words.

Right when you think you’re starting to understand reality, the sound of Chaewon’s moans hit you like a truck. Right up against your ear, not loud, not fabricated, just pure intimacy. They’re so soft and elegant, accompanied by her body flexing against you. Each and every fibre inside her starts to squeeze, and with one last moan, it all becomes too much for you.

Your warmth shoots out of you while Chaewon’s still shaking. A beautiful tandem of emotion and intensity connects you together as you squeeze each other’s bodies as hard as your physical limitations allow. While it feels like an eternity to you, it ends just as quickly as it comes, and you feel all the strength dissipate from your body.

The grip you have on her falters, and her body collapses against yours. You’re breathing heavily, and so is Chaewon, while she strokes your chest softly. You place her on the bed and ease out of her, warmth still connecting your bodies in the most intimate of ways.

Then, suddenly, reality rushes back in and kicks you right in the gut. Your bodies separate as the realization of what you just did sets in. As if anything made sense in the first place, it definitely made less now. You get up to leave, incapable of formulating a coherent thought.

—

From Chaewon’s room to the front door, everything is a blur. You don’t remember anything, but you have a pain in your chest that refuses to leave. It’s as if you were stabbed, and all you can hear is Chaewon’s parting ‘I love you’ echoing through your ears – you can’t even remember if you said it back.

You’re walking around the outside of their house, using your phone’s flashlight to help you search until you see the little sparkle from Kazuha’s hair clip. You walk over to pick it up, and right when you place it into your pocket, you hear voices coming through Kazuha’s window.

“...there’s one thing,” Kazuha’s voice pierces the night with a little laugh.

“Oh?” you can almost hear Sakura sit up by the inflection of her voice.

There’s more shuffling inside the room before you hear Sakura’s voice again.

“Zuha!” Sakura squeals with excitement. “Oh my God!”

Kazuha’s laugh rings through the air. “I’ve never felt anything like it before.”

“I remember on our first anniversary,” Sakura begins with a giggle. “He…”

Her voice softens to the point where you can’t hear the conversation anymore. You take a couple of steps closer, trying to listen in. Then, as you take one last step, you hear the two of them start laughing.

“Kkura!” Kazuha shrieks with a laugh. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Did you not hear yourself literally five seconds ago?!”

“I know! But… wow…” Kazuha chuckles.

The two of them laugh some more before calming down and letting silence fill the air again. Someone, you think it’s Kazuha, says something inside, but it’s too quiet for you to hear.

“...why do you say that?” Sakura’s voice flows through the window, gentle and empathetic.

Zuha exhales deeply. “It was so much easier to tease him before,” she answers, her tone far more serious than before, “now I just feel… something… every time I even think about him.”

“That something is called feelings,” Sakura chuckles softly. “Don’t overthink it, just do what feels right. He’ll know if you’re trying to force anything, and I promise you he likes the real you more than a persona.”

“That’s the thing, I’m like, too nervous to be natural around him anymore,” Kazuha laughs, the discomfort evident in the tone. “I used to tease him all the time, I loved the way he would squirm, it brought me so much joy. I’ve never felt this way around him before.”

Sakura ponders for a moment before speaking up. “I think that’s natural. For context, during our first date, I probably said a total of five words the entire time, and this was after spending a week texting him every day.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, even if you know someone already, this can be a pretty big change in the dynamic,” Sakura explains gently. “Especially given the circumstances, it’s totally reasonable to feel a bit awkward. I’d even go as far as saying I’d be surprised if it wasn’t a bit awkward at first.”

“Oh well, it probably won’t even matter.”

“What? Why? What happened?” Sakura asks. “You two were obviously doing more than admire the view when I walked in earlier.”

“I can tell the Chaewon thing is bothering him,” Kazuha admits quietly, “even though I know he’s trying to hide it from me. I saw it in his eyes earlier, he was hurt, and I don’t know if he’s ready to move on from her yet.”

There’s a long pause in the conversation. You freeze in place, scared to make noise, holding your breath until Kazuha’s voice comes through the window again.

“Sorry–”

“Don’t be stupid,” Sakura interjects softly. “I get it.”

Kazuha sniffles just loud enough for you to hear over your thumping heart. Her next words are so quiet that you question whether you even hear them.

“Am I a bad person?”

“Of course not, Zuha,” Sakura snaps, and there’s a degree of anger behind it. Her next words are muffled as if she’s speaking through Kazuha’s body. “No one will ever blame you for your feelings.”

There’s another break in the conversation. This one is significantly longer than the last. Just as you begin leaning in toward the window again, you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Holy sh–” you gasp before a hand quickly covers your mouth.

The voices inside disappear for a moment, but all you can think about is how your heart feels like it’s about to explode through your chest as you turn to see Yunjin standing right next to you. She drags you away from the window until you’re both out of earshot before letting go of your mouth. “What are you doing?” she whispers as she pulls her hand away and laughs quietly.

“I d-dropped something…” you stammer, as the blood rushes to your face.

“Right,” Yunjin giggles. “I guess you were struggling to find it, whatever it was.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” you mumble as you crouch down and take a few deep breaths, relaxing your body.

“Get up,” Yunjin reaches down for your hand and pulls. “I’m not trying to explain this to anyone who might peek through the front door.”

“Where are we going?” you take her lead down the path.

“For a walk.”

---

A/N:

This chapter was tough. I lost count of how many different drafts I ended up writing, but ultimately this is the one I chose. Some were a LOT sadder. It honestly got a bit frustrating at times, I could have easily spent another few weeks dissecting some of these scenes.

Anyway, I gotta know what you guys think about the ~6k word length for updates to the story. I already wrote the next scene which is the talk with Yunjin but decided to cut the chapter here for ease of reading. You guys prefer that or would you rather have chapters be a bit longer? It would have been close to ~9k words had I kept the next scene in, but that feels a touch too long?

Speaking of Yunjin, she's getting some more scenes coming up. God damn she is stunning lately. I know I had someone ask if she was getting any smutty scenes and I said pretty firmly that she wasn't, but now I don't know... (potential spoiler I guess, also still no plans for Eunchae, sorry!). For now though, Kazuha fans rejoice maybe? Sakura fans stay patient, she's not out of the picture just yet. I'm gonna stop typing now before I accidentally spoil too much.

[sunsetcupid]

GREEN WITH ENVY ; F1 GRID.

synopsis: When you find out that your celebrity crush is coming to the paddock, it is only natural that your boyfriend reacts a certain way, be it possessive or ostentatiously charming.

trigger warnings: Use of feminine pronouns from the reader’s perspective; Descriptions of romantic acts and behaviors; Suggestive remarks; Mentions of abandonment

a message from the author: I think that the drivers would be so funny in this situation! (Note: I added Daniel Ricciardo, though he technically isn’t a driver anymore. *Sobs loudly*) More “what-if” situations coming soon!

ISACK HADJAR

He doesn’t act insecure. In fact, he acts more confident than usual. Puffing up his chest, pulling you closer to him, definitely using more physical touch and a lot of pet names.

You can see how his demeanor changes as soon as your celebrity crush pays attention to you. He’s not outwardly possessive; he knows that even as your boyfriend, he doesn’t own you, but he still doesn’t like the “greedy way” the celebrity is eyeing you.

He over analyzes everything – from the greeting you give them to how you squeal when they say that they’re a big fan of yours. 

You have to comfort him later that night, running your fingers through his curls in the idle manner he absolutely adores. “Nobody is as amazing or perfect as you. Not even Timothee Chalamet.”

OSCAR PIASTRI

He hates being called icy, but that’s exactly how he acts when he finds out the news. Yeah, so what if your number-one celebrity crush is visiting the paddock? You’re his girlfriend, and no hot shot from Hollywood could ever take you away from him. 

Yet the doubt still worms its way in. Especially when he sees just how flustered you become, cheeks burning and words a quick stammer, and he has the sudden urge to have a passionate make out session with you in front of them. Modesty? Gone.

He makes you wear his jersey – a papaya-colored one with his last name inked on in bright black letters. Just so they’re aware.

LANCE STROLL

He’s not worried at all. Instead, he’s the epitome of a “cool guy”. You’re surprised he’s not behaving weirdly, but you’re too embarrassed to ask. Later, you cave, and he says, “They’re meaningless to me. We’ve been dating for years now; you would have left already if you wanted to.”

Despite this, however, he still leans in close to you, blocking the celebrity off from getting too close. You love it. Lance is not a particularly controlling guy, but those little movements? Chef’s kiss.

Afterwards, Lance orders a big bouquet of flowers and surprises you with a new stack of books that had been on your wishlist. “Do you think that they know you as well as I do? That they love you as much as I do?”

LANDO NORRIS

“I’m going to tattoo ‘Lando Norris’s girlfriend’ on your head while you’re sleeping.” Lando warns you the night before the celebrity is due to arrive. You know he’s joking, but you can barely sleep – from both the threat and the excitement. 

He turns into the most boastful, overly friendly person known to mankind. Loud laughter, rapid-fire jokes, anything to distract the celebrity from you. He even slaps the celebrity on the back, so forcefully they start coughing. (You almost started crying from laughing so hard.)

Adding onto this, he gets super competitive. He starts comparing accomplishments (“Was he in the running for the 2024 Driver’s Championship? I didn’t think so.”) to even the height difference (“I’m like ten centimeters taller than him! Do you want to date a garden gnome?”). It’s hilarious.

CHARLES LECLERC

He becomes quieter, more subdued. Rather than being bolder and more outgoing, he lets you spend time with the celebrity – though he’s fully aware of how long you’ve been crushing over them. 

While you’re chatting it up, you can hear him muttering in French. Not even curse words, just sentences like, “Who does he think he is? He’s like a peacock, trying so obviously to flirt with her. She’s mine.”

You buy matching outfits to wear to quell his nerves, albeit Charles not vocalizing any of his fears – that you might decide he wasn’t good enough for you and run away forever. (A foolish delusion, because no one was better than Charles Leclerc.)

DANIEL RICCIARDO

When he finds out, he immediately throws on a dramatic act. “I’m going to be abandoned! You’ll be disgusted with me as soon as you lay eyes on them, and you’ll leave me forever!” The only way to get him to be quiet was to kiss him, and that turned into something a lot more steamy…(Not that you’re complaining!)

Before the celebrity arrives, he starts drilling you. “So, you like him because of their chiseled abs? Their humor? Their accent? I have to be prepared, baby. I don’t want them whisking you away.” You roll your eyes, but secretly, you’re in heaven. It’s so hard to make Daniel jealous, but this is the perfect way to do it. Or so you thought…

…Because the celebrity becomes quick friends with Daniel. Of course he does; Daniel’s personality is magnetic and full of charm. Later, Daniel kisses you on the forehead right as you’re snuggling into bed, and says, “You have an amazing taste in men, baby. He’s awesome.”

Credits: Dividers — @sisterlucifergraphics

[crackerslacker69]

Idk if you meant this as a question but I'm going to answer it anyway! 🩷

So I didn't get diagnosed with ADHD until I was 24. When I was in college I once had a roommate walk into my room after I'd cleaned and say "Wow! You can see the floor!". I was notorious as a kid for finishing my homework, and then leaving it at home. During summer breaks I would stay up too late binge watching supernatural, go to bed at 2:00 a.m., and wake up at 2:00 p.m. to eat my first meal of the day. (That is also, depression, but I digress)

For me it all changed when I started dating my husband. My advice is not "get in a romantic relationship", but rather "figure out who you want to be reliable for", and if nothing else, you deserve to be reliable for yourself.

My husband is a total type A person. When he was a little boy he would get upset to the point of tears if his mom didn't drop him off at school at least an hour before class was supposed to start. I, was an absolute god damn shit show. We met at 18, when I was at my most disorganized and he was at his most tense. Every time that I would forget something, or be late to something, it would upset him. It made me realize that I wasn't comfortable with letting him down, but I was totally numb to letting myself down, which didn't really feel good. Trying to show up for him and be more reliable made me realize, it felt good to be reliable. Being 15 minutes late to everything, and always showing up unprepared, doesn't feel good. It doesn't feel good to be on the receiving end either, but it also made me realize it's really hard to ask people to treat you the way that you want them to treat you, when you aren't capable of showing up for them the way that you hope they will for you. It also made me realize, I didn't respect myself enough. I had never really been taught how to take care of myself, I'd certainly never been taught how to clean or stay on top of really any mundane repetitive human task. So I had to accept that if I wanted to feel confident in myself and in my relationships, I was going to have to spend my twenties figuring out how to be reliable.

The work to become more disciplined was frustrating, it was difficult, it made me angry, and it's also made my life concretely better. I still fucking hate the sisiphean task of having to feed myself three times a goddamn day. But it's easier. I'm more reliable for other people, and I'm also more reliable for myself. I'm more confident that I will actually be able to accomplish my goals. I'm not afraid of forgetting, I'm not afraid of screwing something up, I'm not afraid of that gut drop feeling when you realize that you didn't do that you were supposed to and that there's not enough time to fix it.

I don't know if this will be relatable for you, but I guess for me it was the realization that I was neglecting myself. To be fair, I'd never really been taught how to do anything else. I guess that I perceived it as part of my personality? But for me, it was love that forced me into the position where I had somebody that I needed to show up for. Someone that had standards that were much higher than mine. (Frankly too high, his standards were honestly as distressing to me as they were to him. He has relaxed and I have grown more capable) I don't know what the solution is for you, I think it's different for everybody, but I think the foundation is respect and reliability. You deserve to feel like you can respect and rely on yourself. For me, a big part of that was learning how to believe in myself and actually see myself as being capable of becoming that kind of person.

Fast forward to now, I'm a wedding planner. Which means my literal actual job is being organized, professionally. If you would have told me that in high school, I probably would have assumed that I would be really bad at it, but I'm not! Becoming more disciplined isn't easy. It's really frustrating work and it takes years. But I turn 28 next week, and being on the other side of the hill I can tell you, it is totally fucking worth it.

Good luck on your journey! You are capable of all things! 🩷

how does one develop discipline in the first place. it seems like discipline requires initial discipline to develop. it's a paradox.

[chromehoney]

“AT THE SAME DAMN TIME,” chapt two.

The bag was heavier this time. You made sure of it. No half drops. No quick getaways. You had enough of Ms. Moore’s coconut oil mix to last her through the end of the month—more than enough to justify walking back into her shop without looking like you were looking for anybody.

But you still smoothed down your shorts in the parking lot before heading in. The bell over the door jingled the same way it always did, but the air inside the beauty supply felt warmer this time. Heavy, like it was waiting for you.

Ms. Moore was behind the counter, tying her apron tight around her waist. Her locs were wrapped up in a printed scarf, earrings catching the light when she looked up.

“Aha, you back already? Didn’t take you long, huh?” You grinned, holding up the brown bag. “Didn’t want you to run out.” She raised her brows, clearly not fooled. “Mmhmm.” But before you could say more, your eyes shifted—and there they were.

Stack, propped up near the magazine rack with a toothpick in his mouth and that same cocky tilt to his smile. He looked you up and down, again, like you were a damn snack in a candy-colored wrapper. Smoke, seated low in the back corner near the bundle display. Elbows on knees. Eyes already on you. Cigar unlit but in hand like he’d been waiting to spark it with your name on his tongue.

Stack let out a whistle when you passed the counter. “Told you she’d come back,” he mumbled to Smoke. You rolled your eyes without turning around. “Told who?” Ms. Moore smirked like she didn’t hear them and gently pulled you to the side of the counter where her new hair oils were arranged.

“Now, this right here’s the new blend,” she said, opening a small jar. “Might even be better than what your auntie makes, but don’t tell her I said that.” You leaned in, letting the scent hit your nose. It smelled sweet. Warm. Like something you’d wear around a man just to make him lean in a little closer. Ms. Moore’s voice softened. “You know… Stack is really sorry.”

That caught you off guard.

“Huh?” She glanced over toward the boys—both still lingering, pretending to be busy. Her voice dropped lower. “He won’t tell me what happened between y’all, but he’s always talkin’ to Smoke about how sorry he is. Like, can’t let it go.”

You blinked, straightened slightly. “Really?”

Ms. Moore nodded, then immediately changed the subject before your heart could do something dumb. “Anyway, for your curl pattern, this’ll give moisture without all that heaviness. You been using heat on your ends, baby?”Before you could answer, the bell chimed again. A woman stepped in, holding a toddler on one hip and asking about crochet hair.

Ms. Moore snapped into business mode. “Come with me, baby,” she told the client, then to you: “I’ll be right back. Grab you a free sample from the basket, alright?” She disappeared into the back with the customer, leaving you standing in the center of the shop.

Alone.

With both of them. Stack moved first. “I ain’t know you still smelled that good,” he said, stepping close enough for you to catch his cologne. Something spicy. Overconfident.

“You still mad at me or you done bein’ dramatic?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Smoke’s voice cut low behind you. “Why she gotta be dramatic?” he asked calmly. “She left ‘cause she knew her worth.” That shut Stack up for half a second.

You crossed your arms, turning just slightly to meet Smoke’s eyes. They held steady on yours, calm and full of something unreadable—but it heated your skin like sunlight through glass.

Stack smirked, mouth curling like he knew you were flustered. Smoke didn’t smile. But his gaze never moved. You rolled your eyes, grabbing a free sample just for something to do. “Y’all talk too much.” “You ain’t deny nothin’, though,” Stack said. You turned to leave, chin high. “Didn’t confirm anything either.” The bell jingled behind you as you left, but the burn on your skin didn’t fade for blocks.

time jump; that evening

You sat cross-legged on Sevyn’s bed, picking at a loose thread in her comforter while she scrolled on her phone, bubble gum popping between her teeth. “You know that boy Jay throwin’ a pool party this weekend?” she asked casually. “The one from the old high school crew?”

You glanced up. “The one with the house on the west side?” She nodded. “Yup. Said it’s gon’ be a vibe. Real mixed crowd. I already know Stack and Smoke gon’ be there.”

You froze mid-thread pull. Sevyn’s eyes didn’t miss it. She smirked, scrolling past bikini ads. “We should go shopping tomorrow. You need somethin’ loud. Like… bitch-you-lost-me loud.”

“I’m not going to impress nobody.”

“Sure you’re not.”

the next day; bikini shopping.

The store smelled like new fabric and summer anxiety. You were flipping through racks when you heard a familiar voice from the next aisle over. Mary. Tall, white, shit almost pale, with her straight hair in a short bob and lip gloss shining like a damn light beam. You peeked past the rack and saw her laughing with her friends. “Girl, when Stack see me in this swimsuit?” Mary giggled. “He gon’ finally stop actin’ like he don’t want me. Watch. I know what that man like.”

Your throat tightened.

Your fingers froze on a cherry-red bikini.

Because if she was bold enough to say that out loud, she wasn’t bluffing. She either has him… or had already had him. And Stack had the nerve to flirt with you? You frowned, turning slightly away from the group. Tried to school your face into indifference.

But Sevyn walked up just then, holding two options—one neon green, one black mesh—and saw your whole mood.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, voice low, teasing. You shook your head. “Nothin’.” “Uh huh.” Her smirk deepened. “Must be nothin’ if your whole forehead wrinkled like that.” You snatched the red bikini off the rack. “Let’s just try these on.”

And you swore you didn’t care.

Even as your stomach flipped at the idea of Stack and Smoke seeing you in that two-piece. Even as your mind wondered who Stack had been kissing. Even as your heart, deep down, admitted that it hoped Smoke would be the one looking hardest.

@katezy2x @d1gitalb4rbie @queenofklonnie22 @spicypiscesssss @yana3sworld @maniifesto @kqmbr1a @bl3ssyn @nikkitheunpredict @5starsirl

[enhazy]

You owe me.

idol mentor!Heeseung x female idol!reader

𝘿𝙀𝘼𝘿 𝘿𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝘿𝙊 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙀𝘼𝙏

warnings: 𝙉𝙊𝙉𝘾𝙊𝙉, slapping, unprotected sex (don't do this!), little to no foreplay, fingering, spitting (not in mouth), virginity loss, slight size kink, tummy bulge, dacryphilia, cum play(?), cum eating, overstimulation, reader passes out in the end, not proofread, and english is not my first language.

Don't like? Don't read.

MDNI

word count: 1,013

likes, reblogs, and feedback would be appreciated!!

Disclaimer:

I am not responsible for the content you consume. Content warnings are listed above (I may have missed something), please read thoroughly so you know what to expect. This is very very dark and I do not condone these things happening in real life. THIS IS A FANFICTION WHICH MEANS IT DOES NOT DEPICT HOW HEESEUNG IS IN REAL LIFE.

continuation ➡ you're mine.

—💐

It wasn't always this way with Heeseung, no. He used to be sweet and kind. He never crossed a boundary, never looked at you wrong, never raised his voice when you frustrated him. Heeseung was gentle. His mentorship was the reason you rose to fame as an idol, and for that you we're grateful. He had secured your debut without asking for anything in return; 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵.

It's been a year since your debut and Heeseung's personality had completely changed. You didn't know this version Heeseung. He crossed every boundary, always looked at you with a dark, hungry gaze, but at least, he never yelled.

Heeseung pinned you down on the bed, slapping his palm over your mouth when you tried to scream. He pushed your legs open with his knee, keeping them spread by situating himself in between your legs when you tried to close them. Your dress started riding up your thighs as you kicked and squirmed, trying to get the man off of you.

"Stop moving, you're only making this harder for yourself." Heeseung groaned in your ear and you immediately shut up, knowing what'll come next if you didn't listen— he started hitting just recently. "Good girl." He praised, kissing the side of your neck. "Always such a good girl for me."

"You know you 𝘰𝘸𝘦 me, right?" Heeseung kept talking, removing his hand from your mouth. He used that same hand to touch your body, caressing your skin, leaving no place untouched. "You're here, you're relevant, because of me."

You shook your head, keeping your sobs quiet. "So pretty." Heeseung complimented, pulling the hem of your dress up eyeing your panties. "You aren't wet yet?" He scoffed, slapping the inside of your thigh. "You should be. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴." He pushed your legs further apart, causing you to yelp at the pain of the stretch.

"Tell me you want this." Heeseung commanded, hand hovering over the waistband of your underwear. "Don't make me wait." He tut impatiently, already pulling your underwear down. He called your name as a warning and you quickly whispered out a small, barely audible, "𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴."

Heeseung smirked, fully pulling your underwear off, groaning when your sex comes into view. 𝙄𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙'𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙩, Heeseung thought. But even if you weren't, it wasn't a problem. He was going to fuck you either way, he'll make you get wet. He shoved 2 of his fingers into your tight hole, thrusting them in and out painfully. He was forcing them in. Your cunt kept clenching, trying to keep his fingers out. "Relax." Heeseung sighed, placing his other hand on your abdomen. "It'll hurt more if you won't relax."

You couldn't relax, tears kept running down your face. You were breathing heavily, trying to calm yourself down, but it hurts so bad. "Hurts, Heeseung." You hiccuped, both your hands holding his wrist. "Please." You pleaded, needing him to go easy on you, accepting that he won't stop.

"My cock will hurt more." Heeseung slapped you in response. "Be grateful I'm prepping your tight cunt." He added, smiling when you let out a choked sob. He suddenly pulled his fingers out of you, placing a hand in front of your face. "Spit."

You gathered saliva in your mouth before spitting on hand, not noticing when he pulled his thick cock out of his pants with his free hand. He spread your saliva on his cock, spitting on it again for extra lubrication. He then grabbed your thighs, smiling when you sobbed, pulling you down closer to him. He angled his cock towards your pussy, rubbing the head up and down your slit before pushing in, drawing blood.

"Oh, a virgin?" Heeseung laughed. "That's nice." He pushed into you, forcing through your resistance. "Fuck, so tight." He stayed still for a moment, bringing a hand up to your face and caressing your cheek. He wiped your tears away before he started to thrust, your dry walls clenching in on him.

Heeseung's thrusts were rough and calculated, he made sure his cock was in to the hilt. The slapping sounds of skin meeting skin was heard echoing in the room, alongside Heeseung's groans and your sobbing. He grabbed your hips, pulling you impossibly closer to him, smiling when thrusting into you felt more easier when you 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 started getting wet.

Your blood and slick helped with the slide, Heeseung thrusting faster, chasing his release. He didn't relent, pulling the top of your dress down to see your tits, watching them bounce as he pushed in and out of you. He pullled back a little, watching his cock disappear inside of you, your walls struggling to accommodate his size. He could see a slight bulge forming in your abdomen when he was inside too.

You let out a pained moan, causing Heeseung to laugh. "That's it. There's my good girl." His hips stuttered as his release neared, his thrusts becoming sloppy. He leaned forward, groaning in your ear keeping his cock inside you when he came, thick ropes of cum spurting out of his cock. His release triggered yours, your pussy clenched down on his cock, your release mixing with his.

You were still crying, Heeseung stayed inside of you. "You're such a good girl." He praised, admiring your tear-streaked face. He groaned when he finally pulled out, bringing a whimper out of you. The mix of your releases spilled out of you and Heeseung was quick to catch it before it fell on the sheets, he used his fingers to shove it back inside you. He thrusted his fingers in and out of you slowly, hearing your soft fucked out moans. He didn't stop fingering you until you came undone again, not minding your soft pleads of how sensitive you felt. Heeseung slid his fingers out and licked them clean, he noticed how you were slipping in and out of consciousness.

"It's okay, baby, Heeseung will take care of you." The last thing you felt was Heeseung kissing your forehead before falling unconscious.

—💐

ฅᨐฅ notes: this was actually much longer in my notes app, but the latter part is much darker and I don't know if you guys would read that. •᷄‎ࡇ•᷅

[pinkpurplesunrises]

Mice in the Dark (Waiting for the Light)

+/-7500 words - the long story - Alexia Putellasx Reader - one of my more prouder works - Angst and Fluff - Happy ending - Pregnancy - Mentions of school shooting (no injured) - Please read with care.

Writer's note: I know I said I was on a break and I promise you... I am, but I finished this today after a full month of writing it and I just wanted to share it because I'm very proud of this one. Makes me excited to share it with you all. I can't promise you that it has no grammar mistakes x

There was something about the way sunlight slipped through the linen curtains in spring. Soft. Golden. Unapologetically honest. It kissed the edge of your cheek, just enough to pull you out of a dream. The first thing you felt was warmth. Not the sunlight. Not even the blanket tangled around your legs. No… it was her.

Alexia.

Her arm was wrapped around your waist with the same quiet protectiveness she carried on the pitch when someone fouled a teammate. Her breathing was slow, steady, a rhythm you’d memorized before marriage. Before IVF. Before last night changed everything.

You didn’t move. Not yet.

Your hand settled over your belly. A gesture so subtle. So new. It still felt like a secret whispered in a chapel.

You were pregnant.

You blinked against the tears stinging the corners of your eyes. One day ago, you and Alexia were standing barefoot in the kitchen. Your thumb trembling on the test. One line. Then two. Then disbelief. Then the sobs. Then that night. The joy. The nervous laughter. The way she kissed your stomach like it was already her favorite thing in the world.

Now here you were. In bed. Her legs tangled with yours. Her skin still flushed from sleep and love.

She stirred.

"Mm," came her voice, husky and low. She didn’t open her eyes yet but her fingers curled against your stomach, instinctively, protectively. "Still here?"

You smiled, a soft sound leaving your throat. "Where else would I go?"

Her eyes cracked open. Lashes still heavy with sleep. "Just checking," she whispered. Then her hand moved. Barely a few inches. And she cupped the side of your belly. She hadn't stopped doing that since last night. Like maybe touching you made it real.

"Still feels unreal," you admitted.

Alexia leaned in, brushing her lips over your shoulder. "It’s real. I keep waking up to make sure you're still beside me. You always are. Now there’s... someone else, too."

A small silence fell over the room. Not the kind that suffocates. One that breathes. That expands.

You turned to face her, brushing a strand of sunlit hair from her face. "You’re going to be such a good mamá."

A smile cracked across her lips, but it was wobbly. Eyes glistening. She didn’t speak for a moment. Just reached to press her forehead to yours.

"I'm terrified," she whispered.

"Me too."

"But I want this more than anything."

You nodded. "Me too."

The alarm buzzed faintly from her nightstand. A soft, vibrating hum. Alexia groaned and reached over to kill it. "Training. Shit."

You let your head fall back onto the pillow. "Do you have to be a football icon every day?"

She grinned, pulling herself up with a stretch. "Yes. Otherwise the world might collapse."

You reached out and slapped her thigh playfully. "Go save the world, Capitana."

Alexia stood in the doorway a minute later. Pulling her jacket on. Her hair was still damp from the quick shower. Her gym bag slung over one shoulder.

She looked back at you.

And it was the kind of look that meant something. Like maybe she’d already sensed the world was tilting. That time was about to split into before and after.

"I love you," she said. Not in a rushed way. In a way that planted its roots.

"I love you more," you replied, smiling.

She gave you that heart-splitting smirk before closing the door behind her.

And you were alone. For the last time, you’d realize later, in the before.

You moved through the morning in that strange, glowing fog that comes with good news and not enough sleep. Your hand kept brushing over your stomach. Absentmindedly. Protectively. Like your body already knew there was something precious inside.

Shower. Clothes. Hair pulled back. A slice of toast half-eaten on the way out of the kitchen.

You were halfway through pouring your travel mug of coffee when your phone buzzed, screen lighting up with Alexia 💜. Right on time. She always called when she pulled into the training ground. Like clockwork.

You could picture her perfectly. One hand on the wheel. A water bottle tucked between her thighs. That ridiculously big sunglasses collection rotating daily. Today, you guessed the tortoiseshell ones.

You slid your thumb across the screen. “Hey, superstar.”

“Hola, profesora,” came her voice, warm and playful with that familiar Catalan curl. “Did you eat?”

“Part of a toast,” you said, grabbing your bag and swinging it over your shoulder. “Half the peanut butter is on my shirt now, so... yes?”

She laughed. It was soft and breathy and made your chest hurt in that nice stupid way.

“You really need a personal chef. Or a wife who’s home in the mornings.”

You locked the front door behind you. “I’ve heard rumors I have one. But she’s too busy winning Ballon d’Ors to make me eggs.”

Alexia sighed dramatically through the phone. “Such a hard life for you.”

You grinned, walking down the street toward your car. “You’re not wrong. Anyway… how’s your knee?”

“Good. Sore in the right way. I think they’ll let me push a little harder today.”

“Pobrecita,” you said, mock sympathy in your tone. “All that running around for Spain and Barça... and still no gold star sticker from me.”

“You’re lucky you’re pregnant,” she warned, teasing. “Otherwise I’d come over there and…”

“Miss Putellas,” you cut in, unlocking your car with a beep, “there are children present.”

Alexia laughed again, and God, you’d bottle that sound if you could. You slid into the driver’s seat, adjusting your mirror like you hadn’t done it the same way a hundred times before.

“Okay,” she said, and you could hear her engine click off. “I’m parked.”

“Which means you’re about to be ten minutes late, like always.”

“I’m worth the fine,” she replied. “I just wanted to hear your voice. That’s all.”

You paused. Just for a second. Because it was such a her thing to say. Effortless. Sentimental. Quietly intense.

“Well,” you whispered, holding the phone a little closer to your ear. “You’ve got it. Every day.”

Neither of you spoke for a beat.

Then she cleared her throat. “Alright. Go teach small humans. Don’t let them bully you.”

“They’re five, Ale.”

“Even worse. They bite.”

You laughed. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

The call ended with a soft click, and the silence after felt just a little too still. Like the calm before the swell of something coming.

You placed a hand over your belly and closed your eyes.

Just for a second.

Then you turned the key in the ignition and started your drive to school. Completely unaware that those would be the last moments you’d ever know as ordinary.

The locker room was already humming when Alexia walked in. Earbuds still in. Her hoodie sleeves pushd halfway up her forearms. She dropped her bag at her usual spot. Tucked between the rows where the sun hit the floor just right in the late mornings.

Mapi was stretched out on the bench like she owned the place, boot halfway on, phone in hand.

“You’re glowing,” she said without looking up.

Alexia paused, one eyebrow raised. “Excuse me?”

Mapi smirked. “You’ve got that look. Like you just committed a murder and got away with it. Or like you’re very in love.”

Alexia rolled her eyes and pulled her hoodie off. “Maybe I just slept for eight hours, por fin.”

“Nope,” Kika said from across the room, tying her hair up. “It’s a suspicious glow. Suspicious and maternal.”

Alexia froze for half a second. Just a flicker. She was careful. Always had been. She recovered quickly, tossing her hoodie into her locker. “What does that even mean?”

Mapi leaned in, eyes narrowing like she was trying to read her captain’s mind. “You tell us, mamá.”

Alexia blinked. “I swear to God…’’

“Okay, okay!” Mapi held her hands up, laughing. “I’m just saying, you’ve had this little... vibe lately. All soft and dreamy. It's giving... lullabies.”

“I will kick your shin,” Alexia warned, but her mouth twitched at the corners.

Kika, now grinning wide, joined the interrogation. “So what are you naming the baby?”

“What baby?!”

“See?” Mapi said, turning to Kika with mock awe. “That’s exactly what someone who’s hiding a baby would say.”

“I’m not hiding anything,” Alexia lied, which was technically true. She wasn’t hiding. Just… holding. Holding something delicate and new and way too sacred to throw into the locker room chaos just yet. It was still their secret. Hers and yours. Your tiny miracle.

“I think it should be something regal,” Kika said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Something like… Victoria. Or Reina.”

“You’re out of your minds,” Alexia muttered, tugging on her training shirt.

Mapi tilted her head. “You and the missus doing okay?”

That stopped her, just for a breath. She nodded, a soft smile tugging at her lips without permission. “Yeah. She’s good. Teaching today.”

“Bet she’s got those kids doing Shakespeare and yoga by now,” Mapi joked.

Alexia snorted. “She teaches pre-K, not a spiritual arts retreat.”

“Same thing,” Kika chimed in. “Tiny humans with big feelings.”

Alexia hesitated, her fingers brushing the edge of the locker door. “Yeah. She said one of them gave her a sticker yesterday for ‘being kind.’ Made her cry.”

“Wait… she cried?” Mapi said. “I thought you were the emotional one.”

Alexia laughed under her breath. “We take turns.”

There was a lull then… just for a moment… where someone cranked up the music and the energy shifted to cleats, water bottles, stretching routines.

But Alexia lingered in that space. That little pause in the noise. Thinking about the sticker. Your laugh through the phone. The way you whispered “we’re really doing this” last night like you were afraid someone would hear and take it back.

She exhaled slowly.

Training waited. Life was rolling on. But beneath her skin, just below the surface, something was shifting.

And she was starting to feel like the world was holding its breath.

The teachers' lounge always smelled faintly like burnt espresso and dry-erase markers. No matter how many air fresheners they plugged into the wall.

You sat at the small round table by the window. A half-full mug warming your hands. Surrounded by the soft murmur of your colleagues’ chatter.

“Another cookie?” Marta asked, holding the plate out with a smile.

You shook your head gently, fingers tightening around your cup. “Thanks, but I’m really not hungry this morning.”

Your voice was soft but firm.

There was a pause.

Then one of them, Lucia, looked at you a little too closely. A flicker of something unspoken passing in her eyes. Maybe she thought you were stressed. Or maybe she was just being a mom and sensing when something was off.

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly.

You smiled carefully. “Just a bit of off this morning, I think. Nothing serious.”

No one asked more. The room went back to light chatter about the school play, PTA meetings, and a funny story about a kid who accidentally glued his shoes to the floor.

You took a small sip of your coffee. Trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach.

After a few minutes, you stood, stretching out your legs. Time to set up for the day.

The classroom was a riot of color: tiny chairs, alphabet posters, and half-finished crayon drawings pinned to the walls. You arranged the cubbies, lined up the picture books and taped the day’s schedule on the board. Circle time. Story. Snack. Nap. And art.

Everything felt calm. Normal.

Almost too calm.

You glanced out the window near the door.

That’s when you saw him.

A small teenage boy, maybe sixteen or seventeen. Standing just outside the school gate. He wasn’t moving. Just watching. His hoodie was pulled low. Face shadowed. But his eyes caught the light for just a second. Watching.

You blinked.

He disappeared behind a parked car almost instantly, like he’d never been there.

Your heart ticked a little faster.

But you told yourself it was nothing. Just some kid waiting for a friend or maybe lost on his way home.

You shook your head and turned back to the classroom.

Focus.

Today was supposed to be normal.

The ball skipped off her boot awkwardly. Rolling too far left. Not a complete miss, but enough to break the rhythm of the drill.

She cursed under her breath.

Another pass. Too heavy.

A third… late.

A few glances were cast her way, but no one said anything. This was Alexia Putellas. Off days weren’t her brand.

But she felt it. The dissonance. The way her thoughts wouldn’t stay where they belonged. They kept drifting. To your voice on the phone. To your morning sickness. To the way your voice hesitated before you said you were okay.

She didn’t like that hesitation.

"Hola," Irene said, jogging up beside her after the last sequence. Her tone was light but her eyes were shar. Watching. Knowing. "You’re off today. Want to talk about it?"

Alexia wiped her forehead with her sleeve, exhaling hard. “Just tired.”

Irene tilted her head. “Tired… or thinking?”

Alexia gave a faint smile. “When am I not thinking?”

They started walking toward the sidelines. Irene didn’t push. She never did. That’s what made her good at reading between the lines.

"Mapi and Kika being Mapi and Kika again?" Irene asked casually, a grin playing on her lips.

Alexia huffed a laugh. “They were throwing baby names at me.”

Irene’s brow lifted slightly. “Oh?”

“Total coincidence,” Alexia said quickly, but her voice gave too much away. “They don’t know. I didn’t tell them.”

Irene nodded slowly. “Got it.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then… gently… “You’re thinking about the last time, aren’t you?”

Alexia’s breath caught.

The last time. The other times. The quiet, negative tests. The hopes that turned into whispered apologies and late-night tears in her hoodie. You saying, “Next time,” even when your voice trembled. Her nodding, even when it felt like a lie.

“A little,” she admitted.

“It’s okay to still feel it,” Irene said. “That was a lot. For both of you.”

Alexia nodded. “I just… I thought it would go away, you know? The fear. But now that it’s real… this time it’s real… and I still feel like if I breathe too loud, it’ll vanish.”

Irene reached out, gently bumping her arm. “It won’t vanish. You two have fought too hard for this one.”

Alexia looked down at the grass. Then back toward the field. Where the rest of the team was still running through drills.

She swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

Irene watched her for a second. “You want to go again or sit one out?”

Alexia clenched her jaw, nodded toward the field. “I’m good.”

She jogged back out, but her steps felt slower, heavier.

In the back of her mind, something was tugging at her. A vague, gnawing unease she couldn’t place.

The drill restarted. Cones. Short passes. One-two touch.

She forced herself into focus. Eyes up, body moving. Trust the muscle memory.

Then… buzz.

Her wrist buzzed faintly beneath the band of her GPS tracker.

Phone in her locker.

A message had come in.

She didn’t think much of it, but when they rotated stations, she cut across the pitch and jogged toward the sideline. Coach was shouting something. Correcting a pass. Waving an arm. But her eyes were already on the edge of her locker.

She unlocked it fast, thumb swiping, screen lighting up.

It was from you.

A photo.

Bathroom mirror. Fluorescent lighting. That soft, faded sweater she always told you looked like a blanket. Your hair was pulled back, face clean, tired in a beautiful way that knocked the air out of her lungs.

Your hand was resting gently over your stomach.

Nothing to show. No change. Just skin and cotton and a look in your eyes that made her whole body ache.

The caption read:

"Still invisible, but ours. First day being her mami at school.❤️"

Alexia didn’t even realize she was smiling until her cheeks hurt.

Her thumb hovered for a second, then tapped back.

She didn’t say anything.

Just sent a heart. Then another. Then the third one turned gold. The only emoji she ever saved for you. One for each of you now.

She stared at the photo a little longer, zoning out. Around her, the locker room sounds filtered in: a dropped cleat, laughter from someone near the showers, the rattle of a water bottle hitting the ground.

The unease was still there, faint. But quieter now.

For a second, she let herself believe that maybe that was all it was.

Maybe her heart was just stretching to make room.

By the time the first little sneakers came padding down the hallway, your classroom was ready. Soft music playing from the corner speaker. Crayons laid out. Books stacked neatly. Sunlight warming the animal rug near the board.

You had exactly four minutes of peace before the chaos began.

“Señorita!” Mateo barreled in first. Backpack half open. Coat trailing behind him like a cape.

“Buenos días, Mateo,” you said, catching the runaway coat mid-air.

More voices echoed behind him. Luna with her braids bouncing, Diego still half-asleep and clutching a juice box. Sofia dragging a stuffed dolphin and a shoebox labeled ‘volcano project’.

It always started like this. Small. Loud bodies. Shoelaces untied. Mismatched socks. Someone already tattling.

But it grounded you. Gave you something solid to hold onto.

You clapped gently. “Circle time, everyone. Come sit. Show me your best criss-cross applesauce!”

There was a bit of squirming. Shuffling. A shoe being removed for no reason at all. But eventually, your class formed its uneven, rainbow-colored circle of small humans. All looking at you with sticky hands and wide eyes.

You smiled, folding your legs beneath you.

“So,” you began, “Who wants to share something from their weekend?”

Sofia’s hand shot up. “I got to feed a goat and it licked my elbow!”

“Ew,” muttered Diego, clearly impressed.

Luna raised her hand politely. “We went to visit my abuela and I made soup. Real soup. With vegetables.”

You nodded. “That sounds amazing. You’re a chef now.”

Then Amelia, your tiniest, most serious child, lifted her hand and waited until you called her name with mock formality.

“Yes, Miss Amelia?”

Her face lit up. “I got surprised! I’m going to have a baby brother! He’s in my mommy’s tummy right now. I don’t know how he got there.”

A few giggles broke out, and you laughed with them. Right before your throat closed up.

Just like that.

You blinked, hard.

It wasn’t even the sentence. It was the way she said it. So proud. So sure. Like the world was good and magic was real and babies just arrived because you hoped hard enough.

And suddenly your chest was aching. Your vision blurred.

You tried to swallow it down, but a single, hot tear slipped out anyway. Then another.

“Oh no!” Mateo gasped. “She’s broken!”

“I think she’s sad about the soup,” Diego whispered to Luna.

“I’m okay,” you said quickly, pressing the heel of your palm to your cheek and forcing a smile. “I’m okay, chicos. Just a little sleepy.”

“Do you miss your mommy?” Amelia asked with wide eyes.

You nodded seriously. “All the time.”

The children leaned in, worried but still entranced. Small hands hovering like they wanted to fix it.

“Don’t cry,” said Sofia, crawling over and gently patting your knee. “We can share our snack with you.”

That almost broke you again.

You sniffed, laughed through it. “Thank you. I think I’ll be alright now.”

And just like that, they moved on. Distracted by a loose crayon or someone’s sparkly shoelaces.

You stood slowly, brushing your hands on your skirt, letting the moment pass.

They couldn’t know yet. It was too soon. Too fragile.

But a part of you wished they could.

Because somehow, their little hearts knew exactly how to hold yours.

The training session ended with sweat on her skin and that familiar burn in her legs.

She showered quickly. Towel slung around her shoulders. Hair damp and curling at the edges. There was a team meeting scheduled in the video room. Something light today. Old match footage. Some laughs. Maybe some lessons buried in the rewind.

The room was already half full when she walked in. The lights dimmed low. Screen paused mid-action on a frame from last season. Mapi and Kika were curled into one chair like teenagers at a sleepover. Whispering something and snorting laughter before looking up and right at her.

Alexia narrowed her eyes instantly. “What.”

Mapi grinned too wide. “Nadaaa.”

Kika held up her phone like it was proof. “Did you see? Sam and Kristie posted… baby incoming.”

Alexia’s heart did a tiny skip.

“Oh,” she said, carefully neutral.

“They look so happy,” Mapi chimed in. “Honestly, goals.”

“They’ve been quiet for a while,” Kika added. “Probably waiting for the first trimester to pass.”

Mapi gave Alexia a not-so-subtle side eye. “Sound familiar?”

Alexia gave her a look, one brow raised. “You two are bored, aren’t you?”

“Painfully,” Kika said, flopping back in her chair. “And you give off such mystery energy. We just want to crack the code.”

Irene slid into the seat beside Alexia with her water bottle and muttered under her breath, “They're relentless today. Should’ve brought holy water.”

Alexia huffed a laugh. “You’re not helping.”

“Wasn’t trying to.”

The coaches entered, and the screen resumed with match footage. Barcelona vs Atlético. Midfield control clips, ball recoveries, positioning, angles. Alexia leaned forward, chin in her hand, trying to settle her focus.

She was watching herself, months ago. Moving like she always moved. Fluid. Calculating. Dominant. But now, in this moment, something inside her felt distant from that version. Off-center.

“Alexia,” said one of the assistants, pausing the frame. “See this hold you made here? Can you talk through what you were reading?”

She nodded slowly. “The winger was too wide, their pivot was delayed. I waited for her to commit so I could cut both lanes at once. But I knew if I stepped too early, I’d leave Claudia exposed.”

The coach nodded, pleased. “Exactly.”

Another voice: “God, it’s like your brain is GPS,” someone muttered in admiration.

Kika leaned over and whispered, “Imagine that baby gets your vision. And her eyes.”

Alexia stared at the screen a moment too long before blinking out of it. “You’re worse than the media,” she said, not unkindly.

But inside, something shifted.

That strange tug again.

A thread of unease, like the day was just slightly tilted.

Not wrong.

Not yet.

Just… waiting.

Her phone buzzed quietly in her pocket.

She pulled it out quickly, careful not to interrupt the meeting.

A message from you.

“The small humans arrived safe and sound. Putting my phone away now… no bites yet. ❤️”

She smiled softly, the warmth spreading in her chest like a quiet sunbeam.

Her thumb hovered, then tapped a quick reply: “Good. Hold it down, mami.”

She slipped the phone back into her pocket.

Around her, the discussion continued, but that little message was a momentary anchor.

That strange tug inside her faded… just a little… replaced by the thought of you, in your classroom, steady and brave.

The classroom was buzzing with tiny voices and laughter. Crayons scraping paper. Shoes tapping the floor. When the first sound broke through the hum.

Pop.

At first, you froze.

Pop.

Then…

Pop. Pop.

Shots.

Your heart stopped.

For a second, the world was just a loud, cracking echo, too close, too real.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to breathe.

You looked at the kids. Their faces, innocent and wide, didn’t understand.

“Okay, everyone,” you said, voice calm but low. “We’re going to play a game. It’s called ‘The Quietest Animals.’ Who can be the quietest animal?”

Diego’s eyebrows furrowed. “Like a mouse?”

“Yes,” you whispered. “Mice don’t make any noise at all. We’re mice.”

Little hands pressed to their mouths.

You moved quickly, herding them behind the tables, dimming the lights with a flick of the switch.

You crouched low, pulling Sofia close. “We’re going to hide under the tables now, okay?”

The kids obeyed, some giggling nervously, others wide-eyed but silent.

Your fingers trembled as you pulled out your phone.

Hands shaking, you dialed.

No answer.

You tried again.

Your breath caught when you heard the faint crackle of a voice, static, but real.

You whispered, “There’s an emergency at the school. Shots have been fired. We need help immediately.”

You clicked the phone off, heart pounding so hard you feared they’d hear it.

You looked around.

Mateo was clutching his jacket, eyes squeezed shut.

Amelia was frozen, the smallest body shaking.

You swallowed the scream in your throat and smiled at them.

“We’re brave mice,” you said, voice steady. “The bravest.”

But inside, every part of you was terrified.

The room was quiet again after the match footage paused. A pause neither tactical nor deliberate. Just the sort of lull that settled in when the team was waiting for something to shift.

Alexia’s thoughts were miles away, swimming between the soft warmth of your message and the nagging, persistent tug of unease that wouldn’t quite fade.

Suddenly, a sharp tap on her shoulder broke through the fog.

“Alexia? Coach wants to see you outside.”

She blinked, then nodded, following the assistant out of the dim room and into the bright, sterile hallway.

Her phone buzzed again as she walked, but she ignored it.

By the time she reached the exit, her heart was a drum in her chest.

And then…

She froze.

There, standing just beyond the doorway, was her mother.

Her face was pale, eyes wide and glassy.

“Mamá?” Alexia’s voice caught on the question.

Her mother swallowed hard, taking a small step forward.

“Something’s happened at the school.”

Alexia’s breath hitched.

“Is it…?”

Her mother nodded, voice trembling, “There’s been a shooting. They’re saying lockdown. Police are there. We don’t know much, but I thought you should know. I’m so sorry, Alexia.”

Her knees threatened to buckle.

“Where’s… where’s y/n?” Her voice cracked, the fear raw and wild.

“She’s inside. They say the kids are hiding. The teachers too.”

Alexia’s hands curled into fists.

“Can I go? I have to…”

“Wait,” her mother said firmly. “I’ll come with you.”

The urgency in her mother’s voice was a lifeline and a weight.

Alexia grabbed her jacket, heart pounding louder than her footsteps.

Together, they raced through the corridors, her mind spinning faster than her feet.

Every second stretched impossibly long.

Her phone buzzed again… she dared a glance.

Messages, unanswered calls.

She tried calling you.

Her breath hitched.

“Please be okay,” she whispered to herself. Panic squeezing her throat.

Outside, the sky was the soft blue of a peaceful day. Mocking her turmoil.

But the streets were alive with flashing lights, sirens wailing like cries tearing through the calm.

They crossed the last block, and there it was. The school.

The chaos was immediate. Police cars. Paramedics. Frantic parents huddled in small groups. Teachers consoling children. The distant murmur of officials giving instructions.

Alexia’s mother squeezed her arm.

“Stay close,” she said.

Alexia forced herself to steady her breathing.

She pulled her phone out again and sent a quick message.

“I’m coming. Hold on.”

Then she looked up, eyes searching the crowd, searching for you.

Her world was crashing down, but she had to be strong.

For you.

For the children.

For the life you were just beginning to build.

The crowd outside the school was thick with anxiety and murmurs, but Alexia’s sharp eyes caught something that made her heart lurch.

A small group of parents were gathered near the entrance, clustered close around a handful of children. The names on their lips were painfully familiar.

“Mateo?” she heard one parent ask gently.

The boy, cheeks flushed from nerves, nodded eagerly.

“We played mice,” Mateo said, voice small but proud. “We were so quiet. Like real mice.”

Alexia’s breath caught.

She pushed through the crowd. her heart pounding harder with each step.

“Where’s the teacher? Where’s the señorita?”

Mateo looked up, blinking at her like she was a sudden sunbeam.

“Miss y/n?” he answered, voice trembling. “She’s still inside. We were hiding. Luna didn’t want to stop playing the mice game even when they said we could go with help.”

Alexia’s throat tightened.

A sharp sob broke free before she could stop it.

She wrapped her arms tightly around her mother, who held her just as fiercely.

“I have to tell you something,” Alexia whispered through the tears. “… she’s pregnant. We found out yesterday.”

Her mother’s eyes widened, a mixture of awe and heartbreak flooding her expression.

“This can’t be happening.”

Alexia shook her head, burying her face in her mother’s shoulder.

“It’s so fragile, mamá. So new. We were just… starting.”

Her sobs shook her body.

The world was breaking apart around her. And all she could do was hold on.

The room was still dim, shadows stretching long across the floor as the small bodies huddled beneath tables.

Luna’s hand found yours, trembling slightly.

Her eyes were wide and glassy, lost in a sea of fear you couldn’t reach with words. Only with the softest touch.

You leaned down, voice barely more than a whisper.

“Luna, remember our game?”

She nodded slowly, squeezing your hand back.

“Mice don’t just stay in one place forever,” you said carefully. “Sometimes, when the place isn’t safe anymore… they move. They find new homes where they can be quiet and safe.”

Luna’s breath hitched.

“Do you think we can be like the mice?”

You smiled gently, brushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead.

“Yes. And right now, the mice need to be brave and move somewhere safe.”

Her small hand squeezed yours again, steadier this time.

"It's time to move, little mouse."

Alexia’s eyes were fixed on the scene unfolding just a few feet away.

A teenage boy, hands cuffed behind his back, was being led past the barricade by a calm but firm emergency responder.

The boy’s face was pale. Eyes downcast. The weight of everything pressing down on him.

Alexia’s breath hitched.

The responder caught her gaze and offered a tired but steady nod.

“No one was hurt,” he said quietly, as if the words needed repeating. “Just holes in the ceiling and scared kids. They’re waiting on two more to come out.”

Alexia swallowed hard, feeling like the air had been knocked from her lungs.

She squeezed her mother’s hand, eyes scanning the doorway, desperate for any sign.

Minutes stretched. Agonizing and endless.

Then, the school doors opened.

You appeared first.

Your face was pale, makeup smudged from tears you didn’t want to show, shoulders tense but trying to hold steady.

Behind you... the last child. Breathless and clutching a small backpack. Ran full tilt toward waiting parents, who swept her up into a trembling embrace.

Alexia’s heart broke at the sight.

You started to move forward but when your eyes met hers across the crowd. Verything crumbled.

The brave facade shattered.

You broke down, sobbing openly now, the weight of the day crashing through every line of your body.

Alexia was there instantly. Closing the distance between you.

Her arms wrapped around you. Fierce and protective.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, voice rough with emotion. “You’re safe now. You’re here.”

You clung to her, letting yourself fall apart in the only place that felt like home.

Around you, the noise of sirens, murmurs, and relief swirled. But all that mattered was the warmth of her hold, the steady beat of her heart against yours.

Together, you let the tears fall.

Because sometimes, even the strongest need to be broken. To be held. And to heal.

Weeks had passed since that day. The day that shattered the fragile bubble you and Alexia had been building together.

Some mornings, the world felt calm, the light spilling through the curtains like a promise.

Other mornings, you woke gasping. Heart pounding like it was still trapped in that classroom. The echo of gunshots ringing sharp behind your closed eyelids.

Tonight was one of those nights.

You woke in a cold sweat. Breath shallow and rapid.

Before panic could fully claim you, you felt it. Warm arms sliding around your waist, pulling you close.

Alexia’s voice was low and steady. A soft anchor in the storm.

“Hey, hey… it’s okay. I’m here.”

You curled into her. The steady beat of her heart a balm to your racing mind.

She shifted, settling beside you on the bed. Careful and sure. Fingers tracing slow circles on your back.

“I’m not gone,” she murmured.

You squeezed your eyes shut. Trying to let the fear slip away.

“I’m right here.”

Her hands moved to your belly. Gentle but certain.

You lifted your shirt a little. Showing her the soft small curve that was just beginning to show. The secret growing life inside you.

“Look,” you whispered, voice still shaky. “Our baby’s okay.”

Alexia’s smile was radiant. Her fingers tracing the line of your bump like it was the most precious thing in the world.

“All good so far,” she said softly. “You’ve been amazing.”

You let out a shaky breath.

“We’re going to tell the team tomorrow,” you said.

Alexia’s eyes lit up. “Finally.”

You nodded, a small smile breaking through the lingering shadows.

“They deserve to know.”

Alexia chuckled softly. Brushing a stray hair from your forehead.

“We’ll make it a proper celebration. Maybe Mapi and Kika will start the baby-name guessing games again… only this time, we can join in.”

You smiled, feeling a flicker of lightness.

The fear wasn’t gone. Some nights it still whispered in the dark corners of your mind.

But here, wrapped in Alexia’s arms, you felt something else too.

Hope.

Love.

The quiet certainty that you weren’t alone.

Alexia leaned in. Pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

“We’ll get through this. Together.”

And in that moment… it was enough.

The morning sun spilled gently through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room.

Alexia was already awake, her hands busy but gentl. Brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, tracing lazy circles on your arm.

You smiled, eyes half-closed. Feeling the warmth of her touch like the safest place on earth.

“Trying to spoil me, huh?” you teased, voice still thick with sleep.

She grinned, a playful sparkle lighting her eyes.

“Maybe,” she said, leaning in to press a soft kiss just below your jaw. “You deserve it.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugged at your lips.

“Just don’t expect me to return the favor,” you warned.

Alexia laughed. A deep, warm sound that filled the room.

“Oh, I’m counting on it.”

She helped you sit up slowly, fingers steady as you stretched, the little bump already beginning to show.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, concern threading through her usual lightness.

“Better,” you said. “Thanks to you.”

Alexia’s hand found yours, squeezing it gently.

“We’ve got this. Today’s just another step.”

You squeezed back, teasing now more confident.

“Yeah, but don’t get too cocky... remember who’s carrying the tiny human in there.”

She mock-gasps, placing a hand dramatically over her heart.

“I’m just the supportive one.”

You laughed, feeling the tension of the past weeks loosen just a little.

Breakfast was slow, filled with quiet chatter and soft touches.

Alexia made you your favorite tea, while you caught her stealing bites of your toast when she thought you weren’t looking.

The morning felt like a return to something familiar... a gentle reminder of who you were together, before everything changed.

When it was time to get ready, Alexia kissed your forehead.

“Ready to tell them?”

You nodded, heart fluttering with nerves and hope.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

And as she helped you slip into a comfortable sweater that hugged your belly just right. You knew you wouldn’t face the day alone.

Not ever.

The car hummed softly as Alexia drove toward the training ground, the morning light streaming through the windows in gentle streaks.

You settled into the passenger seat, fingers tracing lazy circles on your belly.

“So,” you began, a teasing edge to your voice, “how long do you think it’ll take before Mapi and Kika start pestering us about baby names?”

Alexia chuckled, glancing over with a grin. “Five minutes, tops. Maybe even less.”

You laughed softly. “They’re going to turn the whole locker room into a baby shower planning committee."

“Probably. And you know Kika will have a whole spreadsheet ready.”

You shook your head, amused. “I swear, these footballers plan everything.”

Alexia’s smile softened. “Well, it’s nice to have something fun to look forward to, right?”

You nodded, warmth spreading through your chest. “Yeah. It feels… hopeful.”

She reached over, squeezing your hand gently. “That’s what we need.”

You let your fingers intertwine with hers. Comforted by the familiar touch.

The radio played softly, a song you both loved. Something light. Something simple.

You hummed along quietly.

Alexia smiled, her eyes on the road but her heart clearly with you.

After a pause, you asked, “Are you nervous? About telling them?”

She shrugged, her grin mischievous. “I’m more nervous about whether they’ll start calling me ‘baby mama’ right away.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Knowing them? That’ll be immediate.”

Alexia’s eyes sparkled. “Great. Just what I need.”

You smiled. Leaning back. Feeling the steady rhythm of the car and the promise of the day ahead.

Whatever came next, you’d face it together.

As the car came to a gentle stop outside the training ground, you turned toward Alexia, heart pounding a little faster.

The world outside felt heavy with expectation, but in the quiet space between you two, everything slowed.

You reached up. Pressing your forehead gently against hers. Eyes fluttering closed.

Her breath mingled with yours.

Softly. Tenderly, you kissed her.

No words needed. Just the warmth of lips meeting, a promise, a comfort, a shared strength.

When you pulled back, Alexia’s smile was soft and full of love.

“We’ve got this,” she whispered.

You nodded, feeling braver already.

Hand in hand, you stepped out of the car. Together.

The hallway leading into the training center buzzed with soft chatter, the shuffle of cleats, laughter echoing off the walls.

As soon as you and Alexia stepped in, you felt it. That shift in energy, subtle but unmistakable.

A few heads turned.

“Eh! Finally decided to show up!” Mapi called from down the corridor. Leaning lazily against the locker room door. Arms crossed. Grinning like she knew something already.

You smiled, half-hidden behind Alexia.

“She made me toast,” Alexia called back, completely deadpan. “I had no choice.”

Kika popped her head out next, face bright. “You always have a choice. Toast is not an excuse... unless it’s avocado toast with extra drama.”

“I am the drama,” you said dryly.

They laughed, pulling you both into the orbit of their usual teasing whirlwind.

Inside the locker room, Irene greeted you with a soft hug. She had been more quiet lately. Still a little haunted by the day she saw Alexia’s world crack. And now maybe she saw the small pieces being placed gently back together.

You sat carefully on the small bench against the far wall. Letting Alexia take off her jacket for you. The gesture was simple but enough to make Mapi’s eyebrows shoot up.

“What is this?” she said slowly, theatrically. “She undresses her now? Are we in royal court?”

Alexia smirked. “Always have, actually. She just usually yells at me to do it faster.”

The room burst into laughter, but your cheeks flushed with heat. Alexia shot you a wink and leaned down, whispering, “I got you.”

You exhaled softly, heart still a little nervous despite the warmth.

It was Alexia who stood tall, clearing her throat.

“Okay. So... we wanted to tell you something.”

Everyone went still in that split second. Wide-eyed, half-expecting a joke, or maybe not quite believing the shift in tone.

You stood up slowly beside her. Placing one hand instinctively on your growing belly. Now noticeable in the fitted stretch of your sweater.

Kika gasped. “No.”

Mapi’s eyes widened. “NO.”

Alexia beamed. “Yes.”

There was a moment of stunned silence.

Then chaos.

Squeals. Screams. Foot stomps. Someone threw a training bib in the air.

Kika was already crying.

Mapi looked between the two of you like she’d been personally betrayed by not knowing sooner. “Are you kidding me?! I knew something was weird the last few weeks. And when you snapped at me for stealing your fries? I knew it.”

You were laughing and crying now. Wrapped in a blur of hugs and soft hands touching your stomach like it was already sacred.

Irene stepped forward last. Quieter than the rest. She touched Alexia’s shoulder. Then yours.

“I’m really happy for you,” she said sincerely, eyes lingering a moment longer on the way your hand rested over your belly.

The laughter died down into warm chatter. Plans already forming. Baby clothes, names, future birthdays on the pitch.

You sat back down, overwhelmed but glowing, as Alexia slid onto the bench beside you.

She reached for your hand under the fold of your sweater, her thumb brushing gently over your skin.

“You did good,” she whispered.

You smiled, eyes still a little glassy. “We did.”

And for the first time in a long time, the future didn’t feel so far away. It felt right here... growing... steady and surrounded by love.

The room was quiet in that special kind of way hospitals hold.

Not silent, not still... just hushed. Reverent. Alive with the smallest sounds. The slow rhythm of the monitors. The soft rustle of blankets. The quiet breath of a newborn cradled against your chest.

You didn’t even realize you were crying until you felt Alexia’s fingers brush a tear from your cheek.

“You’re doing it again,” she whispered with a small, tired smile. Her voice was raw from joy and worry and no sleep, but softer than anything you’d ever known.

You looked down at the little girl sleeping in your arms. Skin like velvet. A head full of dark wisps. The smallest sigh slipping from her lips.

“I just… can’t believe she’s real,” you murmured, voice trembling. “After everything.”

Alexia leaned in and kissed the top of your head, one hand resting gently on your shoulder. “She’s here. And you were so strong.”

“She has your eyes,” you said.

Alexia looked down and grinned. “She already judges like me too.”

You laughed, exhausted and glowing.

Then came a soft knock at the door.

You sat up a little straighter. Brushing your thumb over your daughter’s cheek as Alexia moved to open it.

The moment the door cracked open, a cluster of tiny voices and footsteps spilled into the room like sunshine.

“Ms.!” one of them squealed.

Your heart swelled.

It was your class. Yur sweet, brave 4- and 5-year-olds—now being carefully herded in by two of your colleagues. Their little faces were a mix of awe and excitement, like they were stepping into a fairy tale.

“Only quiet voices,” one teacher reminded gently, finger to her lips.

Luna was the first to break ranks. Holding something behind her back with a shy smile.

“We brought you something,” she said, inching closer to the bed.

You adjusted the baby slightly and smiled down at her. Heart aching in the best way.

Luna pulled her gift out and held it up proudly.

A small, grey plush mouse.

“Well,” she said with a shrug, “just in case she wants to play mice too.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Alexia turned away for a second. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

You took the mouse and cradled it next to your daughter, who made a tiny sound and blinked once, slowly.

“She’s going to love it,” you whispered.

The kids gathered around the bed, staying back just enough but brimming with curiosity. A few waved shyly. One asked if the baby had a name yet.

“She does,” you said, glancing at Alexia, whose hand found yours again.

“Her name is Elena.”

They all said it like it was magic. Elena.

The room felt so full.

Not just of people, but of something larger. Something that spanned months of fear and pain and healing. Something soft and whole.

Love.

Alexia kissed your temple again and leaned in close.

“See?” she whispered. “Little mice and all.”

You smiled, tears in your eyes. Your daughter pressed against your heartbeat. The tiny mouse plush tucked gently beside her.

It wasn’t the world you imagined before everything changed.

It was better.

Because it was yours.

Together.

Always.

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

Writer's note: I really hope that you liked this one 🥺 please let me know what you think! put a lot of work in it. Right now I won't be able to write for a week because I really need to break and I should hold on to it. But after that I will of course upload again.

[norcigs]

TEACH YOU

synop: rough jealous sex! very little plot, mostly just p0rn

warnings: charles is pretty mean, pnv, creampie, face fucking, use of slut, bitch, whore, toy and more.. dom charels, sub reader, spankings!, lot of degrading, some praise, aftercare!!!!

🛁: 4.8K words

you were being bratty. you knew that, you saw the way his jaw locked in place and eyes cut over you. you were pushing the line, and not letting up. charles hooked his pointer fingers in your belt loops on either side, pulling you flush against him. whispering something before he kissed the top of your head. 

“if you keep acting like a whore, i'm gonna start treating you like one” he leaned into your ear, before he planted a punctuated kiss to your head, for any onlookers to be fooled by the intimacy. 

did he think purring in your ear like that was gonna have you backing off?.. it only made you want it more. thighs clenching as you looked up at him with big wet eyes. 

“what do you mean baby” you asked, as your voice towed the line between peace and war. batting your eyelashes, begging him to crack, to show a hint of the blaze behind his sugarsweet exterior. 

unfortunately for you, charles didn't need much convincing. hand reaching around your jaw, gently, but demanding. jerking your gaze back onto him, as he pulled you in closer. 

“dont act fucking dumb with me” his tone was laced with venom, as warmth spread from your crotch. he moved his hand to rest at the small of your back. not speaking, but still telling you, stay. 

the party roared around you, your short red dress, floating against you. charlie's white shirt, wrinkled and top button undone now. people danced and shouted, but there was a stillness around you both. charles, all but twitching, as he waited for you to place the final straw. he could tell you whatever he wanted, praise you, degrade you, anything to make you act right. but both of you knew your mind was made up. you wanted to be taught a lesson, and he was just the guy to teach it. a guy walked toward you, definitely drunk, but carrying a cockiness that made him insufferable. 

“hey pretty lady, is this guy your boyfriend” he slurred. charles' hand was still resting on your back. you leaned into him like he was familiar. his hand locked around your side, claiming. eyes darting to you, knowing before you responded, that you were not going to pass up an opportunity to piss him off.

“depends who’s asking” you responded, more for charles than anyone else. the answer was a resounding yes. the hickey he left on your ribcage last night, and the thin silver 16 necklace around your neck was proof enough. charles was your boyfriend, you belonged to him. no amount of teasing or flirting would change that. 

the drunk guy took your response as an invitation. his hand raised towards yours, in an act to maybe pull you away. your hand didn't move to him. that wasn’t the game you were playing. charles’ hands dragged from behind you, around to rest on your stomach, encapsulating you. he leaned over your shoulder to speak to the man. hands only keeping you more flush to him. you rolled your hips against him, just in case you weren't already in enough trouble. 

“trust me mate, you couldn't handle her” he told the guy, smirking like he had already won. really, he had. you two had an unspoken understanding of what it meant when you acted like this. it was never a betrayal of trust, nor an excuse for you to stray from him. sometimes, you just wanted him to fuck you with the possesion and boiled-blood only this behavior gave him. as the drunk walked away, not daring to tempt your boyfriend again, he dropped his head to your ear, kissing behind it.

“follow me to the car, dont say a fucking word until i ask you too,” he seperated from you, quickly spinning on his heels and walking out. his weight against your back missing made you feel hollow, and gave you an itch only he could scratch. 

he didn't turn around, didn't wait for you, didn't slow a step. he walked to the car and sat in the driver’s seat. your heels clicked behind him as you tried to match his longer stride. he started the car without opening your door, or even glancing towards you. for a split second, you thought he might drive off and leave you there, wet and wanting.

when you sat down, dress riding to just below your crotch, you leaned toward him. warm hands wrapping around his bicep, needing to touch him. you pulled your face to his arm, kissing the top of it, sweetly. eyes staring up at him like he was heaven.

“sit still and dont touch me” he said, short, as he peeled your hands off himself. dropping your hands back to your lap, he finished “bad girls like you have to be punished”. his hand snaked around the back of your neck, as he found a grip that made you complacent to how he turned you. twisting you to look right up at him

“do you understand that, slut?” his eyes were dark as he searched your entire face for any glimpse of hesitation. unsurprisingly, he was met with your mouth parting, eager, and your head nodding hard enough to bounce your breasts. 

the ride home consisted of you pushing your hips into the seat, and doing anything for charles' attention. pouting and whining when his gazed stayed straight forward, unimpressed by your begging. 

parking the car in your driveway, he got out and muttered a quick “follow” to you. you listened, desperate to get inside so maybe he would finally touch you. he continued up the stairs toward your bedroom, as you turned to lock the front door and scurry up with him.

“baby, are you upset with me, i didn't mean–” regret pooled in your throat as charles had never used the silent treatment after you teased him. usually, he would take you to the club bathroom and turn you into mush as he ruined you. ruthless, fast, and mean. but this was different, this was calculated.

“didn't mean to what?” he cut you off as you stepped into the bedroom behind him. “didnt mean to act like some cheap fuck for any guy who stared at you?” he scoffed. “it seemed pretty intentional to me baby, and now you have some apologizing to do” he finished as he stepped towards you, closing the door behind you and keeping you surrounded against the wall.

he put both his hands around your neck and pulled you into a kiss. controlled by your throat, you had no say in how he kissed you. taking whatever he gave you, as your head had already started to go a little fuzzy. one hand moved to the back of your head, hand fisting your hair before he was pulling you down. he leaned over as you landed on your knees. 

“been running this fucking mouth all night, gonna show you what it’s really good for” he told you, hand reaching to his belt, unbuckling himself. ripping down his black slacks, and pulling you up enough to be level with his cock. 

he kept one hand in your hair, and used the other to free himself. moaning as you made eye contact with his cock. his grip hurt, but your mouth was watering. it was big, and heavy, and he popped it against your chin with force. 

“open bitch,” your jaw slacked as he didn't waste a second before filling your throat with his length. your throat was wet and greedy, sucking instantly. he grunted as he angled his hips to fit fully inside you. you were gagging around him, tears already stinging your waterline.

“is this what you wanted? wanted my dick as close to your brain as possible? so it could teach you your fucking place?” he mocked you, as he used his hands to pull your head on and off his cock– using you like a toy. 

he laid the back of your head against the edge of the bed, lifting a foot to be level so he could pump himself down you with more force. hips snapping back and forth, his tip bruising a place in your throat you didn't know existed. 

you clenched your hands and thighs together. staring up at him as he took what he wanted from you. tall and strong, head tilted back like he was in another world. his hands wrapped around your head, guiding you, felt oddly gentle now. your cunt leaking as you thought about how safe you were. he could be as rough as he wanted, you could fall apart for him completely, and the whole time you would never have to worry, it was still your charlie. your throat relaxed as you thought about how much you loved him.

“thats my girl, just let me use you” his head was still tipped back, but the way his dick was twitching you knew he was close. your tongue started doing what little it could to make it feel better for him. licking and suctioning anytime you could while he fucked your throat for just his pleasure. his mouth parted as noises fell softly from him. 

your hands raised to his, his eyes shot back down to you at the softer touch. your doe eyes looking up at him like he was everything. he let his hands go from where he was using them to fuck your face, as you gently guided them back. you continued sucking him at the pace he had set. too hard, and too deep for how you usually liked it. but it was driving him crazy so you weren't going to stop now.

“fucking slut-” his words were long, drawn out like moans. “my fucking slut– all mine, you belong to me” his hands clasped behind his back as he only bucked softly into your begging throat, while you did the rest of the work for him. stood towering above you, like a statue, as you knelt before him, like something to be owned. 

he grunted and bit his lip as hard as he could. his hips snapped forward as he kept his eyes trained down onto yours. you felt his whole length twitch before wet hot spurts were coating your throat. his hand reached back around to rest on the top of your head. he slowed your pace, only letting you bob gently, as he worked through his high. eyes shutting, lost in the moment. he blinked them back open to see you still staring at him wide-eyed, with your hands on his thighs keeping his cock as deep as possible. lips puckered perfectly around his length like you were made for it. pleasure surged back through him, sending a shiver down his spine. one last rope hit the roof of your mouth, before he was pulling you off completely.

spit connected his cock to your mouth until you pulled away far enough for the strands to break. you sat back on your ankles, gazing up at him, drunk in love and lust. he sat on the edge of the bed, and used the back of your head to guide your mouth to his. kissing you gently, like even after that, he could break you. the kiss held an unspoken tenderness, one that said, i love you and i trust you. 

he grabbed your arms and guided you to crawl up to him, then adjusting to pull on your waist to help you up higher. the kiss began to blur from sweet promises to heated passion. he held your weight as you sat above him, straddling his waist. the kiss was messy now, teeth clacking and spit still resting on your chin. his hand found its way back to your scalp, clenching a fistful and pulling your head down. breaking your lips apart, and exposing your neck. his lips found your sensitive spots instantly. 

“should leave dark marks on you hm?” he questioned between kisses, “so people can see what a nasty girl you are?” he continued as his fingers found their way to your still covered core. “parade you around the paddock? my pretty little girlfriend, who just lets me use her like a fleshlight? is that what you want, baby?” he finished, mocking, looking at you with the same stupid innocence you gave him earlier tonight. 

you were whining into him now. the need to be fucked out weighing any attitude you had left. 

“tell me what you want” he whispered against your skin, taunting you. you curled into him, getting any amount of closeness and friction you could. 

“you charli, want you” you pouted and looked at him with gentle desperation. his hand wrapped back around your throat and pulled your lips just millimeters from his.

“dont use that sweet little name, i told you what happens to whores like you. you wanted this” his voice was sharp, hands rough against you. but somehow, his eyes were still so caring. you nodded pathetically as you dropped your head to his shoulder. he pulled the thin straps of your dress off your shoulders. letting it drape around you and lifting your tits out from behind the fabric. he pulled the bottom of the dress up to rest around your waist. your garment bunched into a belt now, he didnt bother pulling it all the way off of you.

your panties showed as he exposed you to him, red lace, breath leaving his mouth before he could catch it at the sight of you. pulling them to the side, he ran his fingers through your folds, never filling the emptiness. 

“soaking fucking wet and i havent even touched you yet” he told you as your cheeks flushed. “does sucking my dick really get you this hot, bitch? or do you just like pissing me off?” you wanted to respond, wanted to shave a little cockiness off of him. but as you opened your mouth to retort, he dipped his fingers inside you. all that fell from your plush lips was an uncontrolled moan. 

“yeah? you got something to say?” your hips were rolling, shaking your head no, as you didn't dare do anything to make him want to take his fingers out. riding him, leaking on his fingers, as he was barely one knuckle deep inside of you. 

“all fours” was all he said as he lifted you to the spot of the bed next to him. knees resting right on the edge of the bed, back arching as you rested on your elbows. he stood behind you, feeling his warmth and stature radiating against your skin with the close proximity. he stared at your heat as you clenched around nothing, waiting. pushing your hips back as it ached to be so empty. 

he slapped your ass, the sharp sting shooting through you as his hand soothed the red mark. you bit your lip, trying to keep yourself quiet, failing. the flash of pain returning as he reddened the other cheek.

“how many do you think you deserve, baby?” he stepped closer to you, dick standing straight up and bumping against your clit. his voice was tempting you, basking in the pleasure he got from making you choose your punishment.

“five, five charles please” you said as you struggled to even keep yourself on your elbows. fists clenching around any bedding they could as you desperately tried to keep yourself from falling apart. the slapping noise was louder this time, so was the strangled moan it pulled from you. it hurt more, longer, hitting the same spot he had before. his hand did what it could to soothe you, rub the pain away. but as his left hand connected harshly with the opposite side of your ass again, your moan was unmistakably pained. stinging and sharp, a softer moan following as he gripped the skin of your butt tight. 

“taking your spankings so well, being so good for me” he praised you, knowing just when you needed it. keeping you stupid, and rutting against his dick. “can you take your last one honey?” he asked you, voice tender now. he was really asking, you could say no, you knew you could. beg for mercy and he would give it to you, no further questions. he would continue passed it, not letting it ruin the moment if you couldn't. never wanting to hurt you anymore than you asked him to. 

“please” was all you muttered as you arched your butt further up to him. the cutting sound and pain followed, softer this time. not noticeably, not unless you really knew charles. 

“thats my girl, shh, i know baby” he coaxed you. his hands rubbed at your skin gently. your moans were more sobbish now as the pain slowly weakened against your burning ass. 

he grabbed your waist, demanding, controlling, pulling you flush against his front. your cunt parted as his dick made room for itself. separating you, but not filling you. raising your hips ever so slightly so your clit would grind against the veins of his length. 

“tell me what you need, tell me who you need, slut” his voice was a ragged whisper. your whole body burned. heat radiating off of you from the inside out. the rush of dopamine feeling overwhelming. your head was spinning as you kept wrecked cries from leaving your mouth. you felt it start to hurt. the emptiness, the need, the want, the itch that covered every part of your skin he didn't touch. 

“you– ple– please fuck me” tears streamed down your face as you lost control. it was overpowering. you wanted to turn around, fall to your knees, and cry for his dick. you wanted to tell him you couldn't live without it for one more second. every nerve in your body alight as he hummed softly to you. 

he pulled back from you, separating just barely. you felt your throat open, ready to sob, before you could he plunged his cock into you, bottoming out immediately. the noise that was pushed from you was one of pleasure, or relief. they were so blurred together you couldn't tell the difference. he stayed still, for just a moment. a breath long enough for you to adjust, prepare. then he pulled halfway out and snapped his hips back against you with force. 

you extended your arms, not capable of staying stable on your elbows. pushing your own face down into the mattress. this time, he used his hands to push your form forward, his tip just barely feeling the cold air before he pulled you back, rough.

the noises were perfectly disgusting. the wetness of your cunt squelching around him. the clap of your hips reconnecting. the way you moaned, charles would describe it as fucking angelic. him grunting behind you as your pussy sucked his cock like it needed it. 

completely arched down, charles moved his hands to rest more on your lower back and hips. he used you for leverage. you held a majority of his weight as he pulled his cock and bottomed out with speed and strength. the rhythm was blistering. fast, hard, fucking, not making love. it would hurt tomorrow, but it felt too good to think about that right now. hell, you wanted it to hurt tomorrow. 

“who’s pussy is this” he asked you, trying to hold back the purrs that threatened to fall from his own mouth. he moved his hand to the back of your head, turning you to look sideways. you could see him now, just out of the corner of your eye. he could see your face, see just how gone you were. smiling as you faded in and out of reality, thinking solely about his cock pumping in and out of you. his words finally made their way into your fuzzy head.

“is y-yours, always yu-rs” you slurred, eyes rolling gently as you let it all go. charlie wasn't sure if that went more to his dick or his heart. either way, he was now completely focused on making you cum around him. still using your arched back as leverage, he kept rutting into you relentlessly.

he angled his hips just slightly, perfectly adjusting for his tip to land right on the spot that makes you– you were screaming into the mattress. walls fluttering around him like his dick was made to fill you. knocking against the spot that drove you crazy, he watched as everything else left. all that was in your pretty little head was him, his dick, and pleasure. 

you clenched around him so tight, it was making it hard to pull out. your cunt was pulling him in, and keeping him held there. he used his hold on your hips to pull and push you onto him. it helped with the movement, but the suction your hole had around him was maddening. 

you bounced back and forth at charles’ mercy now. your body was limp, moldable to whatever he wanted. like the only muscle you had left was your tight fucking cunt. every part of you shook as he all but ragdolled you against him.

you opened your mouth to speak, to warn him. but the way you were gushing and clenching around him– he knew you all too well. his tip punished your sweetest spot. a bundle of nerves so deep inside you, somewhere only he could touch. 

“i know baby, cum for me, show me how pretty you are when you fall apart” he told you. not needing you to waste any amount of thought on telling him what he already knew. 

you tipped over the edge, as he collided with you again, deep and hard, he watched as you found the top of the climax. he couldn't help himself. pulling his hand back and spanking you one more time. the noise was harsh as the sweat on you and his hand aided it. the pain sent you tumbling off the peak before you had any say in it.

your eyes squeezed shut as every muscle in your body lit on fire, clenching up and relaxing entirely. your vision went hot and white behind your eyelids. your ears rang and your mouth dried up. like all of your other senses had shut off completely. like you were controlled entirely by your cunt, and by charles fucking in and out of you. 

his thrusts were shallower now, gentler. he worked you through it. feeling the pleasure pour through you when he brushed against the spot he had been bruising. he tried– really tried, not to finish until he milked every drop of pleasure out of your orgasm. but the way your pussy was begging him to fill you, he couldn't deny it any longer. 

you felt the surge of warm, stickiness coat your insides. another wave of pleasure washing over you without warning. like charles finishing sent an entire other orgasm crashing through you. you shouted his name like it was the only thing you could remember.

as euphoria drenched all of him, he kept rocking you back on him, coaxing you both. skin buzzing, brain fuzzy, you lazily fucked against him to take everything he had to give you. slowly, you both came down, as charles pumped into you a few more times. the remaining pieces of your orgasm raked through you, sending shivers to different parts of you, until his cock had rubbed every itching nerve satisfied. 

your walls squeezed him barely as he left his length inside you while you both caught your breath. his hands were soft now, distinctly different from just moments ago. he leaned over you fully, letting his weight comfort you, ground you, pull you back to reality. brushing your hair to the side and kissing your shoulder so sweetly you could taste it. 

“that’s it pretty girl, did so good for me” he whispered in your ear from behind you. hand rubbing and squeezing your sides. “took me so well, made me so proud” he continued as you finally found the strength to raise your eyelids. you blinked, heavy and slow, as a whine escaped you. his cock resting against bundles of nerves that felt overstimulated now. even as he was softening, he was still too big for your aching pussy. 

“you ready?” he asked you. genuine, eyes searching. he didn't want to pull out abruptly, didn't want to empty you until you were ready. until you had come down enough to decide when his missing member wouldn't hurt more than it filling you.

“mhm” was all you had in you, as your tight suction relaxed and loosened around him. he dragged out gently, both of you mushy and softening. he rolled you over on your back, as delicate as you imagined an angel might. he returned to laying on you, giving just the right amount of weight to ground you but not overwhelm you.

he tucked his head into your neck, smiling against your soft skin. light kisses scattered across the area and trailing to your collar bones. you watched him, lazy. eyes full of love, admiration, and most importantly, trust. 

“i love you” you told him, dreamy and blurred. his heart swelled as he pulled back to look at you. how beautiful you looked now, messy and taken. every inch of you was soft and longing to be held. an ache opened in his chest as he watched you. his beautiful girl. 

“i love you, doll” he responded, accent heavy as the tiredness set in. “wanna shower? or just wipe off?” he questioned, not wanting to push you past where you wanted to be. 

“jus sleep” you said as he smiled at you, so in love. he wanted you to be relaxed and comfortable. but he cared too much about you to let you go to sleep like this. he kissed you once more, soft, spit connecting you both as he pulled away.

deciding for you, he stumbled to the bathroom and ran a washcloth under cool water. grabbing a dry towel as well. he returned to you, pouty, missing him. he grabbed your pjs, something comfy, light and loose. 

something between protective, nurturing, and caring flushed charles skin as he knelt down to clean you up. you were exhausted, half asleep as he pulled you to sit up. using the dry towel to wipe your skin down, taking precaution not to be too harsh with the rough towel. he knelt down to your most intimate area, still radiating heat. 

“this is gonna be a little cold, bubba, ill be quick” he said as he separated your knees and kissed the inside of your thigh. hissing as he used the wet rag to wipe your leaking and sore pussy. wiping you clean like you were a piece of fine art. detailed and delicate.

he pulled your panties up, cute pink ones with a little bow on the front, soft and silky as to not irritate your skin anymore. pulling his tshirt over your head, you giggled to each other as your arm got caught in the wrong hole. 

throwing on a pair of shorts and using the dry towel to wipe himself down, not at all minding your sweat mixing with his. he was finally able to crawl into bed with you. you were very sleepy, lulling into a drowsy state each time charlie looked away from you. 

he pulled your form up to his, laying your head on his chest and pulling your knee to have your leg over him as well. his thumbs drew light patterns and shapes on your thigh, as he pulled the covers over you and let you sink into his comfort.

“you okay baby?” he asked you, you didn't need to talk much. he just wanted to be extra sure you were as happy with tonight as he was.

“better than okay, you're pretty good in bed” you joked, tired, but cheeky. he laughed, honestly. mainly it was air escaping his nose, but his smile was big and you could see the white flash through the dark.

“i love you baby” he told you as your breathing slowed. he repeated it a few more times as you fell softly into the embrace of sleep. when you were drifted off entirely, he allowed himself to follow you. eyes heavy as the sound of your heartbeat was echoing around his head, as if it were his own.

[redsshanks]

Heck im a sucker for how you write the red hair pirates. So i have a new request for you to try out if you want to! Shanks, Beckman and Hongo with a reader who gets hit with a devil fruit attack and pass out and the only way to wake em up is a true loves kiss and when reader wakes up they say something like "theres those beautiful eyes i love."

Thank you so much! The Red Hair pirates mean everything to me and I'm glad you like how I write them. I did change the line a few times but I hope you still like it! I apologize this one took so long!

warnings: nothing

word count: varies from section to section

"TRUE LOVES KISS" TROPE WITH SHANKS, BECKMAN AND HONGO══▸

Pain was the last thing you remembered, a shock through your body, your limbs feeling like led and fire burning through your veins. Then nothing. No pain, no noise, nothing but darkness. Time passed, you could feel the time passing by, but you couldn’t do anything about it. Laying in the darkness, accepting that this was how time would pass.  Until warmth spread over you, your lips feeling it first as the rest of your body started to respond. Fingers twitching, smell and touch coming back. The feeling of something soft under your back, life filling your body once again…

Your eyes fluttered open, there was light, but not as much as you expected. Instead there was a shadow over you, red hair in your eyes and a warm hand on the top of your head. There was only one person who would hold you like this. Slowly your hand moved to the top of his head, fingers gently running through his hair. 

Shanks jerked, his hand moving to hold your face, “You’re awake.” His eyes scanned your face, barely held back tears in his eyes. He kissed you, again, his forehead resting against yours. Had it been him? The pressure against your lips, had he kissed you? His hand ran over your face, tracing your lips and cheekbones. “There are those eyes I love.”

The words spread warmth through your body, they were so simple but hearing it from him. You loved it, the warmth in his eyes. “Hi.” Your voice was rough when you finally managed to speak, trying to clear your throat but you struggled. 

He quickly moved, pouring water from the pitcher that was sitting on the end table behind you. You took in the room, the medical bay, you were surprised that Hongo wasn’t the one here, but as much as you cared for your friend and crew mate, seeing your lover was marginally the better thing to wake up to. 

When he handed you the water you finally got a proper look at him, his eyes looked tired, his beard rough overgrown. He looked ragged. How long had you been asleep? There was no way for you to know unless you asked. But you were still trying to fully wake up, focus on more than just the man in front of you. 

“You shouldn’t talk too much. You should rest now. Right?” He ran his hand through his hair, “Fuck I’m not a doctor I don’t know.” Reaching out you ran your hand over his face, fingers brushing over the bottom of his scar.

He let his head fall against your shoulder, “I’m okay.” You were still quiet but your throat felt better. “You can stay with me when Hongo comes back, right? So you’ll hear everything I do.” Running your fingers through his hair he nodded against your shoulder. “We’ll both be okay.” 

After the pressure on your lips, the first thing you could really sense was the smell of cigarette smoke. Beckman. You knew the smell, it was permeated into everything around him, to some it was an awful smell. But to you it meant love. Strange now that you stayed away from the smell before. 

Opening your eyes you looked at him, he was standing in the middle of the room. Calm on the outside but one look at the ashtray next to your bed, you knew he was a mess inside. The tenseness of his shoulders, the pacing, it was all clear to you that he was stressed. As well as you knew it wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t help but feel guilty for it. 

It was technically because of you. 

“Got one for me?” You tried to joke, the slight laughter turning into a cough as you tried to sit up, your throat was too dry for that but you’d not been paying attention. Too happy to finally be awake. Alive. 

Beckman was at your side instantly, his hand rubbing your back and other putting his cigarette out in the ashtray. “Breath baby.” Usually his pet names were teasing, but this was sincere. His face was still, stoic but you could read him like a book. His eyes said everything. 

Finally your breathing slowed down, the coughing and chest pains starting to fade as you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “I’m sorry.” Why you felt the need to apologize you didn’t know, you’d worried him, you’d probably worried all of them. But it wasn’t your fault. It had to have been a devil fruit. Turning your head you looked at him, “Did anyone else get hurt?” 

His eyes closed and he leaned back into you, “Don’t apologize, no one else got hurt we were just worried about you.” Beckman held you close, his arms tightening around you before he let you go. Looking at you, eyes roaming over your face, making sure he was really seeing you, that you were awake. “It’s good to see those eyes.” You smiled, still aching to fall back into him but letting him look over you. “You have no idea how much I love them.”

Your eyes weren’t something he usually talked about, but you understood. If he’d been asleep for… however long, you’d have missed seeing him look at you too. You were unconscious and even now you missed him holding you. 

Reaching out you took his hand, “Please just stay with me for a little while. I just want to be here with you.” He didn’t say anything but he moved closer, letting you lean on him again. Later you’d worry about any health effects, but right now this was everything. 

There was a weight on the side of the bed, a bit of pressure on your side but it was comfortable. After so long of not feeling anything you welcomed it more than you ever had before. Opening your eyes you stared at the ceiling above you. It was so bright compared to the darkness you’d been stuck in. 

You had to do something. Moving was harder than you expected when you moved your hand to whatever was on the bed with you. Fingers barely touching hair before the thing, person, jerked back. Hands quickly grabbing your arm, fingers on your pulse. 

There was no stopping the small laugh, “I’m alive Hongo.” There was no one else who would move so fast to check your pulse, caring about your health rather than hugging you. Not that you could blame him, he was a doctor and you’d been completely unconscious for… you didn’t actually know how long. 

As soon as he was done checking your pulse he moved up to your face, hands gentle on your face as he looked at your eyes. You tried to catch his but they were still scanning yours, making sure everything was okay. Eventually he’d calm down and you’d reach for him and he’d let you. He’d hold you and you’d be able to take comfort in that. 

But with him you had to take comfort in this. He was a doctor and by the look of him, he’d hardly been away from you. If you argued and told him to calm down it wouldn’t work, it was part of why you loved him. His dedication to everyone. 

Eventually his head fell to your shoulder, “I didn’t know what to do.” He muttered, “You just… nothing worked.” His hand held tightly to yours, vulnerable in ways he didn’t show others. Not even his crewmates. Slowly he raised his head, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “I’ve never been happier to see your eyes.” 

As hard as you tried to hold them back you couldn’t stop the tears from welling in your eyes, “I’m so sorry.” His hands were on your face, “I shouldn’t have gotten hurt. I should have been more careful.” You hated that you got caught off guard, you’d made everything a mess. You were new to the crew, hell you were only here because of Hongo. 

“Don’t do that.” He shook his head, “None of us saw that coming, not even Shanks.” It wasn’t that easy, just accepting how you’d let them all down. “You didn’t do anything wrong, everyone gets hurt.” 

Not everyone made their doctor boyfriend panic so much. The state of his infirmary was a mess, something he’d never have let happen if he was thinking straight. Hongo looked at you, daring you to contradict him. But anything you said would make you feel worse and insult his abilities. And it was the last thing you wanted.

“Thank you.” Tears started falling, unable to stop the tears. “I don’t want to let you down.” You should have been stronger, but hearing him say that. As hard as it was to move your body you moved to him, wrapping your arms around his chest. Happy even with the crying because again you could feel something. 

[revelboo]

Hi revel! Can we pleaseee get some ironhide crumbs? I need that old man

Sure! 🔞 Mass displaced mech 🌶️

CW: remembered violence and near death experience, delving into his human’s past during bonding

Bonding

Ironhide x Reader

• “Bond with me,” he growls, hips pumping and your mouth opens against his chin, teeth grazing him as you cling to him. How many times has he asked that? Shown you the warm, pulse of his spark and you’d felt it pulling at you. Wanting to touch him, needing it and knowing anything that pure isn’t meant for you. That you shouldn’t, that he deserves better than you. And he shifts over you, spike driving deep as those blue optics stare down at you. Aching to just give in.

• Your fingers hang onto him as he rolls his hips, hunting for that angle that makes you fist his spike in your silken heat. Trying to get a read on you, knowing you’re going to say no. Always do, but there’s something vulnerable in your eyes. Something hungry. “Do it,” You whisper startling a laugh from him, his thrusts faltering. Not exactly romantic and you’re tensing like you expect something awful as he shifts his plating. Claiming what’s his before you can change your mind. Been waiting so long for you.

• Gasping as his spark arcs and finds you, it’s nothing like you expected. He’s everywhere, you’re drowning in him. Bombarded with images and memories of worlds and places you’ve never seen. The heat and chaos of battle. The fear. See yourself how he sees you, scared and defiant. Beautiful. And you panic feeling him seeing you. Seeing your truth and that night you try to keep locked in a dark corner of your mind. Not that. Anything but that, don’t want to remember. To relive that shame.

• Feels your alarm and fear prickling through him as he dives deeper into you. Spark aching as the puzzle that’s you begins to come together. Having to be tough, to rely on no one but yourself because no one’s going to save you. Hating yourself for not regretting what you’d done to survive. Your belief that something’s broken inside you. And he’s cupping the back of your head, settling against you and feeling the frantic beat of your heart. Aching with your pain, watching your slow slide into a life you’d become trapped in.

• He’s making you go back to that night. Remembering the stink of stale alcohol on your boyfriend’s breath as he moves inside you in the abandoned skeleton of the building you both camp in, the place frozen perpetually in mid-construction. Letting him fuck you even though you didn’t love him, never had. It’s just what the two of you do. You let him fuck you, sometimes fuck people for him. You don’t love him, but he’s easy to get along, makes you laugh sometimes. But he’d shot up with product he’d bought from someone new. Even you know you don’t do that, because there’s no telling what it’s cut with. The weight of him on top of you, moving against you. His hands wrapping around your neck. Squeezing. It’s not like he hasn’t roughed you up before when he’s high or talked you into fucking a buyer as a sweetener and they hurt you. There’s no love here, never has been. You just don’t know how to leave. That moment you’d realized he was freaking out, that he wasn’t going to stop, fingers digging into you and you can’t breathe. Bucking under him as he laughs, lost in the drugs and your vision grays at the edges. Not wanting to die like this. Your hand reaching, fumbling and closing on cold metal. A pipe or a bit of rebar, surprisingly heavy as you smash it into his face. Him reeling back with a curse, nose broken. And that wild panic driving you to keep hitting him, because he’s going to punish you for that. Remembering the way his head had snapped back.

• You’re panicking, struggling as he lets you go, hearing you frantic gasps as he rolls you both into your sides and he cradles your head against him. Shifting his plating to sever the connection as you sob and his mouth brushes your forehead. “I’ve got you, darlin.’” Your guilt echoing through him, not that you’d killed that human in self defense, but that you don’t regret it. That a part of you was relieved that you were free. Except you weren’t, felt that fear when you’d realized his older brother had the connections to never stop chasing you. “You’re not a monster. You’re a survivor.” Knows you won’t believe that even as he says it. That you hate yourself too much to trust him completely. It’s not a full bond, feels the ragged edges bothering him as he holds you and lets you cry, grieving yourself not the man you’d killed. And he’s grieving with you, that he didn’t find you sooner. Wasn’t there to protect you from all of this before life had broken you, convinced you not to trust anyone. Made you believe that love is only a word people say because they’re expected to. And you don’t need to believe in love, he can love you enough for both of you until he can figure out how to heal those jagged edges.

Finally added him to the collection

[arodabi]

100% everything on this post, people were so vile that i get all shaky and cold sweats whenever i gotta talk about my identity to someone irl STILL bc deep down im scared they’ll turn on me.

Personal discourse anecdote:

I followed an aspec positivity blog in 2015 that would routinely get attacked and harassed so eventually they gave the blog to somebody else and retreated back to their main. I followed them there and realized they were somebody i actually went to high school with. They were a year under me and i never talked to them in person about it bc who wants a stranger coming up to you asking about your tumblr blog.

Anyways over the course of a year i watched them fall into being an ace exclusionist, just as vile as all the rest of them. I unfollowed obvi but i would see them all the time going after mutuals and saying nasty things in aspec tags. I remember them harassing ppl with hivliving if that tells you anything. It was horrible to see somebody who spent time defending us fall like that.

After i graduated i saw that they were made my ex high schools gsa president. They would make snide posts abt it from time to time but eventually they made a post that was basically “some acey came up to me and asked what we were doing for ace week or whatever. I just laughed in their face, why would we do anything for virgin week?” A friend of mine who used to know them screenshotted all of their ani ace posts and reported them to the high school. They then got kicked out of the gsa. They were sooooo mad too, blamed all the butthurt cringe aceys bc they didn’t actually kno who had reported them lol

Anyways, i think about this a lot. I kno that person is still out there, my friend gives me updates on them from time to time. I think it shows that as much as people liked to say this was just an online thing, it wasn’t that big of deal, the people who were doing this online were also the ones participating in irl queer spaces too, sometimes with authority. I’m glad it’s a lot better now but the blogs who screenshotted my post to call me mentally ill for being aro in front of their thousands of followers are still posting and popular. They just know to be quiet about aspec ppl for now. We cannot let them ever feel comfortable expressing that shit again bc i kno they didn’t actually change their mind.

I don't think younger/newer users fully grasp the shit show that ace discourse was around 2014-17

It was so hostile that, to this day, discussions that begin to derail just enough can make me physically nauseous, some specific mockery trigger crying sessions years later. We lost most accounts with any sort of ace positivity. There was no information, no support, and all this damage was done predominantly by other queer people.

All this to say that you, however you identify yourself, should be engaging with aphobic comments the same way you do any hate. We don't sugarcoat or try to be comprehensive with people who are blatantly racist, homophobic or terfs, so why give it a pass just because it's coming from a queer person? I see how this tolerance goes and it's done enough damage as it is.

[ninisdollie]

request !! 𓈒ིུ ❤︎

‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❤︎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⊹　₊ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ͏͏✧ content: +18MDNI

fem! reader x Jo, soft dom! Jo, punishment, fingering, edging, brat tamer Jo, short drabble.

Jo is gentle with you.

He always is. Always has been.

The kind of boyfriend who kisses your forehead before anything else, who carries your bag without asking, who blushes when you tease him too much in front of the others. He’s soft-spoken, a little shy, someone who listens more than he speaks. You love that about him. You love how he curls around you at night like he’s afraid you’ll slip away, how his fingers trace your skin like you’re made of something fragile.

But he warned you once, quietly, not as a threat, but a truth.

“I don’t like it when you misbehave,” he’d said, brushing your hair back behind your ear, voice barely above a whisper. “Please don’t make me handle you.”

You didn’t listen. Because soft little Jo couldn’t possibly mean that the way it sounded… right?

But tonight, you pushed him. You were bored, bratty, playing with fire just to see if it would burn. And Jo didn’t snap. He didn’t raise his voice. He just… changed.

His touch didn’t get rough, it got more precise. Slow and intentional. The softness stayed, but the warmth behind it cooled into something else entirely. And the way he looked at you? Not shy anymore.

“Turn around,” he said quietly, tilting his head like he couldn’t quite believe you were still testing him. “Now.”

You hesitated, and he stepped closer. His hand on your chin was featherlight, but his grip was absolute when he tilted your face up to meet his gaze.

“You’ve been acting out all evening,” he murmured. “Touching me when you know you shouldn’t. Saying things just to get a reaction. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

You swallowed. His tone didn’t match the words, so calm, so terribly composed.

“Baby,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your lower lip, “you know I don’t like to do this. But if you keep being bad, I will teach you how to behave. You’re not getting away with it just because you think I’m soft.”

You shiver. Because Jo is soft. Sweet, loving.

Until you push him. And then he’s the calmest, cruelest brat tamer you’ve ever known, one who makes you feel more exposed under his voice than any rough hand ever could.

“Don’t pout,” he says when you whine, pulling your hips back with one hand as he leans over you. “You knew what this would get you.”

And when he finally touches you, slow, just enough to make you ache. He leans down, lips brushing your ear. His voice still gentle, but now with that patronizing lilt that makes your whole body tense.

“Bad girls don’t get to be spoiled. You want soft, baby? Then behave.”

Your body’s shaking. 

You’re not even sure how long it’s been, how many times he’s brought you to the edge and taken it away. How many times he’s held you right there, teetering on the edge of heaven, only to steal it like it never belonged to you. Your pussy is aching and dripping, overstimulated, needy, clenching around nothing everytime he removes his fingers.

Jo hasn’t even broken a sweat.

His expression hasn’t changed once. He’s still got that same unreadable, calm look on his face. Not angry or flustered. Just… disappointed.

And somehow, that makes it worse.

He sighs, like he’s the one being burdened. Like you made this hard for him.

“You’re really not making this easy for me, baby.”

You let out a broken sob, hips trembling as you try to grind down against his hand again, his digits so deep inside of you bumping against your g-spot over and over again, your walls clenching around them, the pressure on your lower belly telling you that you were so, so close. But his fingers pull away before you can, slick and glistening but unforgiving.

“Did I say you could come?”

You whimper.

Jo just clicks his tongue softly, wiping his fingers on your thigh like you’re too messy to be worth the effort.

“I don’t want to do this, you know,” he says, voice low, like he’s explaining something to a misbehaving child. “But when you act like a spoiled little brat, I don’t have a choice.”

He shifts, brushing your hair back as he leans over you, resting one hand on the small of your back while the other returns between your legs, slowly, like a reward he’s not sure you’ve earned.

“If you just behaved—if you listened—we wouldn’t be here. I’d be spoiling you. Kissing you. Letting you fall apart in my lap like a good girl.”

You cry out, thighs shaking again. It’s so much, and it’s never enough. Every pass of his fingers makes you flinch, your whole body begging to come, but you don’t even trust him to let you.

And he knows that.

“But you weren’t good tonight,” he continues, condescendingly gentle. “You were greedy. Needy. Pushing and pushing because you wanted attention.”

He presses down, rubbing soft circles against your clit now. Slow and steady. You feel yourself unraveling again, everything tightening like a rubber band about to snap.

“And now look at you,” he murmurs, lips brushing your cheek. “Pathetic. Teary. Falling apart just because I won’t let you come.”

Your hips buck.

He stops. You sob.

Jo only hums, soothingly, like he’s comforting you through your own punishment.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re learning. Slowly,” he adds, with a soft smirk. “But we’re getting there.”

You turn your head, trying to look at him, eyes wide and wet and pleading.

He wipes your cheek with his thumb. Kisses the corner of your mouth like he’s not torturing you.

“One more time,” he whispers. “Be good for me, and maybe I’ll let you come this time. No more whining. No more begging. Just stay still and take it like a good girl.”

And his fingers start moving again. Perfect and calculated. He watches your every twitch, listens to every sound you make, like he’s measuring how close he can take you without letting you go.

Because Jo doesn’t punish you with pain. He punishes you with control.

[archiveluna]

BSF!RAFE S1–S4! ₊˚ෆ INSPIRED BY THIS & THIS!

season one. what a horrible boy… literally the worst friend ever. honestly treats you like shit and he’s probably made you cry before—but also kinda overprotective? he can say mean shit to you but the moment someone else tries to do the same he is not having it! and more often than not, topper and you have to pull him away because he tries to start a fight with whoever said anything to you. constantly ditching you, forgetting any plans you’d made, and only offering half-assed apologies to get you off his back. it’s such a toxic friendship. you’ve tried cutting him off before, but it doesn’t really work because he refuses to let you go. you can block his number, block him on social media, but the next day he’s still showing up to your house like nothing happened, letting himself in. straight up laughs in your face if you tell him to get out. condescendingly calls you baby. “think you’re overreactin’ a little bit, baby. i already said i was sorry—dunno what else you want from me.”

season two. still kinda toxic, but let’s also add codependency and possessiveness now. he’s spiraling and you’re the only who’s there for him. he honestly scares you a little bit at times… but you genuinely do care for him. how can you not? it’s rafe—you’ve known each other your whole lives. and in his own way, you know he cares for you too, so you stick by him. doesn’t want you to look at him the same way everyone else does, so he doesn’t tell you about peterkin or any of the other shady shit he does, and you don’t ask either. he shows up to your house at unholy hours of the night, rarely ever calm. he’s always wide–eyed and jittery from the lines he’d done before leaving his house, seeking your comfort and reassurance. you show up to pick him up when he’s released from jail after ward ‘dies’ and you hold him in your arms later that night when he breaks down and tells you everything. now that you know what he’s done, he sees no point in keeping anything from you… but just know he’s never letting you go now. “don’t know what i’d do without you baby… you’re the only thing that’s keeping me from losin’ my goddamn mind.”

season three. you couldn’t leave with him when he’d left for guadeloupe with his family, so you don’t hear from him for a while. it’s not that he didn’t want to text or call you—he was dying to. rafe genuinely felt like he was going crazy without you, but he couldn’t risk it. when ward sends him back to the obx, you’re the first person he pays a visit to. you freeze when you open the front door, and there he is. he looks different. more… put together. the buzzcut makes him look mature, the way he was dressed—the way he carried himself. god and then he’s smiling at you. “hey baby…” he drawls. you throw yourself into his arms, gasping out his name, and rafe doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you, gently swaying you both. “missed you so damn much,” he mumbles into your hair. apart from when he’s out with barry dealing with some ‘business’, the two of you are glued to each other. and he’s sooo touchy… <3 always has to have an arm lazily slung over your shoulders or around your waist. also likes to rest his hand on the small of your back. things definitely change between you two—in a good way.

season four. the line between ‘best friends’ and more is getting blurry between you two. but neither of you really talk about it—not yet, at least. he’s so sweet and attentive sometimes you can’t believe this is the same rafe who used to treat you like shit. now that he has his own house you spend most, if not all, of your time there. he even cleared one of his drawers out for you. you have makeup, jewelry, and other things scattered around his room or bathroom. and honestly? rafe loves it. he loves you. he doesn’t know why it took him this long to come to his senses but he’s never been more sure of anything than he is about this—about you. you’re his girl, the one person who stood by him through it all without judging him and he knows he most definitely doesn't deserve you, but he'll be damned if he lets anyone else sweep in and take you from him. rafe doesn’t outright ask you to be his girlfriend but his sudden change in behavior doesn’t go unnoticed by you. the way he calls you “baby” or “sweetheart” feels way more intimate and possessive now. ‘unintentionally’ kisses you once as he’s heading out. when you don’t immediately shut him down he keeps doing it until the quick kisses turn to making out, and making out turns into you two getting a little too carried away. gifts you a promise ring and officially asks you to be his girlfriend—proceeds to fuck you into the mattress later! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ “my girl,” he grunts against your ear, sliding in and out of you as the bed creaks beneath you both from the force of his thrusts. “never lettin’ you go baby. you hear me? you’re stuck with me forever sweetheart.”

[ddejavvu]

do you think hiccup would be down for period sex? like when he sees his partner in so much pain and discomfort all he wants to do is make them feel good

The Red Death - Hiccup Haddock x Reader

contents/warnings: smut, minors dni. afab!fem!reader, period sex, blood, fingering as foreplay, don't like don't read.

a/n: yes i giggled when i decided on the title. what's it to you. this wasn't meant to be anything more than like 500 words maybe? but i just ended one of the worst periods of my entire life so this connected with something deep and primal inside of me. do you know how many times i've jacked it while on my period to be able to bring you this. everyone thank me for my hard work and arduous research.

wc: 2.2k / navigation / inbox / summer of series

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you this is gonna be gross. And messy," You peer nervously up at Hiccup, feeling greedy despite having been placated through each step of the process thus far.

"And I don't know how many times I have to tell you that I don't care." Hiccup levels you with a stern smirk, "We have three sheets laid out. Three. If we can wash- well, you know, the normal mess out of one, we can wash this out of three."

"We can burn them for all I care," You throw a hand over your face, hiding behind it like it shields you entirely, "I'm talking about us. You will be messy. Your- I mean it's gonna get all over you! Your hands and your thighs and... It's just going to be a big bloody mess."

"Have you forgotten that you're talking to an amputee? I only have one leg." Hiccup narrows his eyes at you, "This won't be the first time I see a big bloody mess but it'll at least be miles better than the last time I saw one."

"I don't know about that," You hum resignedly, and Hiccup straightens the pillow beneath your hips one final time before crawling onto the bed and straddling your hips.

"I do. Just relax. Keep your eyes closed, if you want." He offers, his hands braced on your belly that's churning, but with anxiety or with cramping you can't discern, "Let's just try it once, and if it goes south we don't ever have to even talk about it again."

You're more worried that he'll have a change of heart midway through, disgusted by the crimson staining every inch of his skin, and decide he never wants to talk with you about anything ever again, but you're sure voicing that concern would only make things worse, so you clamp your jaw shut and keep your hand firmly planted over your eyes.

You can feel him peel away your underwear, your panty liner surely a gruesome sight. That's another thing you hadn't considered- you should have disposed of it beforehand! - but if he cares, he doesn't mention it. He starts with his hands on your thighs, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into the crease between thigh and groin. Then he moves for the lips of your sex, gently parting them and getting a glimpse of your red-soaked cunt.

You're sure you're a mess inside and out, but his movements don't contain hesitation. They're gentle, like he always is, but sure in the same way. It's comforting, reassuring to know that he hasn't abandoned ship yet.

"I'm probably wet enough just from the blood." You admit, still blinded by your palm, embarrassed to even speak the thought aloud, "You don't have to prep me."

"I want to." He hums, his voice soft as his finger runs lightly down your slit, inducing a shiver that shoots straight to your core, "I'm not doing this to get my rocks off, this is for you."

He'd made that clear from the get-go, but something funny still happens in your stomach when he says it. He's always been caring, thoughtful, intentional, but you rarely get to appreciate it during your lust-crazed quickies the way you do now, laid bare and vulnerable for the man slowly staining his fingers red for you.

You're sure by now he's messy, but part of you still wants to believe that somehow, the well has run dry, and he's seeing you at your best down there. But he never backs off, only gently putting pressure against your slit to breach your lips and grant him access to the wet, hot sex beneath.

Your hips involuntarily squirm against the pillow beneath them as he presses one finger in, carefully guiding it in slow, stroking motions that get deeper the more he repeats them. They're shallow at first, barely diving a quarter of the way into your full depth. But as you settle on the pillow again he pushes deeper, until he's reached the spongy spot deep within you that's already feeling strange. It's an awkward feeling, being touched so deeply, pleasurable when paired with other sensations but not enough on its own to induce any toe-curling pleasure. As such, all you do is gasp, and he draws his finger out to ease a second one in.

"It is like lube," He notes, and you feel the tacky substance sticking to your skin- you can't imagine his own - "But is it really slick enough, or does it chafe?"

"It's-" You squirm at the question, cheeks burning hotter than the fire downstairs, "I don't know! That's gross."

"I'm knuckle-deep in blood." Hiccup smarts, and you uncover your eyes daringly, just to glare at him, "Do you really think you need to be embarrassed right now?"

"It's not lube." You huff, "It's not as smooth. It's not- gritty, but it's just not the same consistency. It's good enough, though. I don't think I need anything else."

"I don't want to rely on it," He hushes you, and you succumb to the pleasure of feeling two of his fingers inside of you. Your knees would buckle if you were standing, but you merely tense your thighs instead, briefly trapping his hand in place. He watches, his teeth momentarily digging into his lower lip. When you relax, he slowly draws his hand out, thrusting back in at a steady rhythm.

"Does it hurt?" He asks, and you shake your head as the pain resides in your gut.

"No. It's more in my stomach. But a- y'know, an orgasm," You speak with burning cheeks, "-that helps. All of the muscles expand and contract and it pushes things through. And sometimes the cramping goes away."

"Stretch out," He orders, smoothing his clean, warm hand over your belly, "Don't clench your muscles."

"I'm trying," You whine, feeling pleasure building slowly but surely as his fingers rake through your cunt. He's brushing your clit with his thumb, maybe accidentally with how gentle it is, but each feather-light touch makes your stomach swoop, traded for the pain writhing just below your gut.

You're growing content with him fingering you despite the mess it'll make, but when your pleasure starts climbing higher and higher, you draw your hips back, stopping him from pushing his fingers back inside of your hole again.

"Wait, wait! I'm ready," You pant, your cunt now stinging with desire, "If you still want to-"

"I still want to." Hiccup rushes to unbuckle his belt, which is another thing you should have considered before this affair, because he's holding his red-stained hand uselessly at his side, and his other one fumbles with the buckle. You end up sitting up to help him, and he watches with one crimson hand suspended in midair as you masterfully undo his belt buckle.

"Watching you do that is really- I love you." He blurts, and as evidence, you see his pants, stretchy and light for dragon riding, but sturdy for the life of a viking, shift just slightly.

At least he's as prepared as you are.

You help him shimmy out of his leggings and it's less sexy than it could be, but you're being eaten alive by your nerves so you're not judging a thing he does. There's nothing to be ashamed of here, not the dark, bloody mess that's become of his hand or the way his dick throbs in the open air like it's seen you.

He grows steadily harder to the point that you're not worried about any rushed foreplay, and you see him officially stain the bedsheets beneath you as he grips onto one of them regardless of the red adorning his fingers. It's far enough away from your head that you're not put off by it, but you're sure you'll be mortified when scrubbing the sheets later.

"Do you need a minute?" He asks, now inches away from your face as he hovers over you. His warm hand is no longer your personal heating pad but it's perfect where it is, cupping your jaw and holding your face steady where it rests near his own.

"No, I'm ready. Please-? I'm," You squirm briefly, your pussy begging for stimuli, "I'm really ready."

"Me too," He admits, a breathy groan as he lines himself up. The merest contact his tip makes with the hot, wet mess your cunt has become has his head dipping down, a strangled cry escaping his throat. It's nothing more than a whisper, but it reignites the slowly dwindling flame of bliss below your stomach that replaces any lingering discomfort from your cramps.

His face is pressed into your shoulder and he barely gets himself together enough to raise it, kissing up the underside of your chin and over your jawbone. He latches onto your lips and practically sucks, kissing you with tongue and teeth and desperation. He's always been good kisser, but it doesn't come from skill or technique, it comes from the need. He licks at your lips like he'll die if you don't let him in, and it gets you hot and heavy every time.

You two are a mangled mess of moans and groans and whimpers as he begins thrusting at a slow, steady pace. With every stroke of his hips your cunt sucks him in, bathing him in blood that's surely staining his pubes and subsequently transferring onto his groin. You're used to cleaning yourself up, but you wonder if he was prepared for the right level of mess.

You'd been trying not to look, still somewhat embroiled in your own anxieties, but Hiccup glances down at your coupling when he plants his head solidly between your breasts, and at the sight of your blood spread across his pelvis like a brand, he trembles with the effort of holding his orgasm off.

"Oh my gods," He grunts, fists clenching in the sheets as he tries not to cum, "It's so- it's everywhere."

"I told you!" You whine, legs clamping shut without thought, but he spares his clean hand to wrestle them apart again.

"It's so hot." He breathes, panting against your mouth between frantic, messy kisses, "It's- it's like... you can see it, you can see where I've touched you, you can see everything, it's- you're getting it all over me and I'm gonna cum, Y/N, I mean I'm really gonna cum-!"

He seems to realize that this is a losing battle. In his desperation he'd picked up speed between your thighs, and the intensity of his thrusts coupled with the hand that still rests between your legs, now fondling your clit, pinching and rubbing and pressing, means that you spiral towards your own climax just seconds behind his. The warm, gushing sensation of his seed pouring into you surely helps, and you're thrown over the edge with a sensation even more intense than your cramps.

It's mind-numbing, something you get lost in as you writhe against the bedsheets, your angled hips suck him in with the way you spread your thighs as far as possible, and he humps through his orgasm with an urgency that makes your own ten times better. You finish, not quite as one, but because of the other, and he plants his nose flush to your own as he takes large, raking breaths after being able to think again.

His lips press to your skin, nowhere targeted but tender all the same. It's not haphazard but it is lazy, something that showcases how exhausted he really is after having all of the blood in his body rush south.

You lean into them, savoring their sweetness as your mind wanders back to you.

"I'm sorry I got blood all over you," You mumble, glancing at the red sheets beside your head.

"Shut up." Hiccup groans, kissing you pointedly this time, right on the mouth, "I just came in, like, a minute."

"It was longer than a minute." You assure him, "Maybe- a minute-fifteen?"

"Alright," He nips at your nose, cracking a grin, "My point exactly. That was hot."

"That was helpful," You add, "I'm not cramping anymore."

"How often do you get them?" He asks, his nose brushing your own as he takes his weight off of you. He's thoroughly stained, thighs painted crimson from the way they'd collided with yours, hand now dried and caked in the first of the day's mess.

"Every few hours, I guess? The waves come and go." You wriggle in place, making yourself comfortable over the sheets again, "We should clean up before this dries."

"I'll get a washcloth!" Hiccup volunteers, placing his clean hand atop your stomach to hold you in place, "And- uh, just let me know when your cramps come back. I'm- we could do this again. If you wanted to. Because I- I definitely want to. If you want to."

"I want to," You admit, dropping your head back to the pillow as he rushes for the washbasin, "I'll tell Gothi I don't need any pain remedies this month. We can do this all week."

[tetsubub]

Moments That Make You Fall in Love with Them All Over Again_.

a/n : because even after days, months, or years together, they keep surprising you—just when you thought you couldn’t love them more. <33

Including – kuroo, bokuto, hinata, iwa, sakusa, suna, miya twins

KUROO TETSURŌ

— When He Defends You Without Making a Scene

In the dinner party, you hadn’t even planned to mention your latest project. But someone else brought it up. Someone who smiled too tightly and said things like “Oh, that’s cute,” and “You’re so lucky you don’t have to worry about real deadlines.”

You laughed. Brushed it off. Sipped your wine and tried to change the subject.

But across the table, Kuroo slowly set his glass down.

“Actually,” he said lightly, “she handled three overlapping campaigns while onboarding two new hires last month. So yeah, lucky’s one word for it. I’d go with ‘brilliant,’ but maybe that’s just me.”

The table went quiet. And you looked athim—really looked—and saw not the teasing, smooth-talking man who loved a good volley of banter… but the one who never missed a beat when it came to defending your name.

No drama. No anger. Just quiet loyalty with an edge of pride.

You fell in love with him again, right then, for using his voice where yours had been dismissed.

BOKUTO KŌTARŌ

— When He Lets You See Him Quiet

He’d given everything on the court.

Now the gym was quiet, and so was he.

You found him sitting against the wall, drenched in sweat, towel hanging over his head. No brightness in his voice. No trademark grin. Just the weight of a man who’d tried his hardest and still doubted if it had been enough.

You sat beside him and didn’t speak. Just waited.

“I missed three spikes in a row today,” he mumbled eventually. “Coach says I did fine. But it got to me. It really got to me.”

There was no crowd now. No one to cheer for him or remind him he was more than one bad set.

Except you.

You slid your hand into his.

He didn’t pull away.

That moment—when he let himself be—was the moment your love cracked open again, not because he was strong, but because he let you hold the pieces when he wasn’t.

HINATA SHŌYŌ

— When He Puts Your Dreams First

You’d been quiet all evening. Pushing peas around your plate. Waiting for the right time.

He beat you to it.

“You should take it,” he said, like it wasn’t tearing you in half. “That job sounds amazing. It’s everything you’ve worked for, right?”

You blinked. “But… it’s far.”

He shrugged, but his hand reached across the table for yours. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d supported you. But this wasn’t just encouragement—it was permission.

He didn’t ask if you’d still be his.

He just trusted that you would be.

And you fell in love all over again with the boy who once chased the sun—and now helped you chase yours.

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

— When He Picks You Up Without Saying a Word

You stood outside the café, arms folded, trying not to cry. The world felt heavy, but you didn’t want to bother anyone. Especially him. He had work. He had things to do. That's why you texted him a short, “I'm fine” message.

You didn’t expect to hear his car pull up.

He didn’t say anything when you got in. Just turned the heat up, handed you a bottle of water from the console, and drove.

At the red light, his hand found yours and squeezed.

No demands. No interrogation. Just quiet presence—so solid, so real.

You didn’t know you needed saving until he showed up anyway. That was love. Steady. Intentional. His.

SAKUSA KIYOOMI

— When He Notices What You Didn’t Say

You didn’t complain. You didn’t even mention the headache creeping into your skull or the fact that you’d skipped lunch. You thought you were doing a good job pretending.

But he noticed. He always did.

Without asking, he dimmed the lights. The AC turned off with a soft beep. He appeared a moment later with warm porridge and a cup of your favorite tea.

“I put ginger in it,” he said. “Helps with stress.”

You blinked at him, throat too tight for words.

He didn’t need you to say you were hurting. He just made it better, like it was instinct.

Love wasn’t loud with him. But it was deeply attentive. And you melted into it.

SUNA RINTARŌ

— When He Lets His Guard Down Just for You

You caught him staring while you were busy with a book.

Not in his usual way—not the smirky, unreadable glance. This one was soft. Almost vulnerable.

“What?” you asked.

He didn’t blink away fast enough. Didn’t cover it with sarcasm.

“Forgot how good you look when you’re thinking,” he muttered, eyes still on you.

It wasn’t smooth. It wasn’t like him.

Which made it mean so much more.

You tucked your face into the blanket to hide your smile, your heart flipping like it had on the very first date.

And just like that, the quiet boy who rarely gave himself away had you falling for him again—with one unguarded moment.

MIYA OSAMU

— When He Quietly Matches Your Pace

The intense lights, the noise, the long list of things to buy—it was all getting to you in the grocery store.

You didn’t say anything, but your grip on the cart tightened.

He noticed. Of course he did.

Without a word, he steered you toward a quieter aisle, handed you your favorite snack, and gently started naming dinner options.

“Somethin’ warm? Somethin’ spicy?” he said, voice low, just for you.

His tone calmed you. His presence anchored you.

He didn’t rush you. Didn’t ask you to explain. He just met you where you were—and walked with you until you could breathe again.

You didn’t say it, but that’s when you knew: you could marry this man ten times over.

MIYA ATSUMU

— When He Apologizes Right the First Time

You’d fought about something small that spiraled. He snapped. You snapped back. You sat alone for ten minutes after he slammed the door shut.

Then he came back. No slamming this time.

His eyes were red. His voice was raw.

“I was wrong,” he said. “I heard you, but I didn’t listen. And I’m sorry. I really am.”

You expected excuses. Defensiveness. At least some bluster.

But all you got was him. Honest. Humbled. Trying.

You stepped into his arms, still tense—but not for long.

Because loving someone who knows how to try better? That’s the kind of love you never fall out of.

[bluewxrld07]

Stained Glass - Final Part

Lando Norris X Artist!Reader

Summary: A lot can happen during the Spanish GP weekend. What happens when Y/N finally has a chance alone with Lando?

Warning(s): Angst, crying, confessions, soft Lando, makeup, allusions to smut, flangst, fluff, Max being an airhead

It was race day.

Well, the morning of Raceday.

Specifically, two in the morning.

Y/N could not sleep a wink, her head not allowing any ounce of silence as she lay there in the hotel bed. She couldn't cry, she couldn't not cry. Her face was puffy, red, and swollen. Not just from tears, but from rubbing at her face.

Ever since she left the dinner last night, she had been doing nothing but thinking.

It didn't occur to her that not only did he most likely keep it anonymous to keep his name away from the crowd, but most likely did it to give her the moment she had waited so long for.

At the same time, she couldn't just let it slide. Not after the conversation she had with her boss the night before the gala.

When they were preparing the gallery, her boss had noticed that she seemed more glum. More blue.

"Mon ami, you seem upset. Pourquoi si bleu?" (Why so blue?)

Y/N sighs and shrugs while stepping back to look at the angle the painting hangs. "Just am, I guess."

Her boss frowns before coming up to her. "What happened?"

Y/N closes her eyes, trying to hold the tears back from falling. "Lando said some things a couple of nights ago about me. About my job and what I do. Basically made it sound like I was a joke, and didn't have a true career."

Her boss' face turns into a confused frown. "Why would he say such things? He's seen how hard you work."

She shrugs her shoulders, going back over to fix the paintings once more. "Don't know. I left before I could hear any excuses."

The older woman tuts at the boy, walking up behind Y/N.

"Oh non, ça ne fera tout simplement pas l'affaire," (Oh no, that just won't do) she says softly, squeezing the young one's shoulder in assurance.

"I don't know what to do."

The older one nods in understanding. "Don't forgive him, if that's going on in your head," she admits while shaking her head. "That boy said what he said because deep down, it's how he feels about it. He said it out of envy and jealousy. You don't need someone like that in your life, mon ami. He's going to use whatever he can to pay to keep you around. Just to prove his money will solve anything."

That made Y/N freeze, turning to look at her boss. The woman showed nothing but seriousness in her expression.

"You think he would do that?"

The lady hums with a nod. "All men are the same when they have money to throw," she says while walking over to one of the sculptures behind them to adjust. "They just expect that if they throw a mill or two at something, it's going to fix the problem they caused."

Y/N frowned in confusion, letting it sink in that she might be right.

Even though it was Lando, he would never do that.

But her emotions were getting the best of her, making her believe that no matter how well she knew Lando that there could always be that chance. Especially after hearing him bash her career. People can always change, but some people, in the most unfortunate ways. Maybe that was what Lando was becoming.

"You want to make a name for yourself," her boss says once more. "It's best to keep your name away from his. Otherwise, he will dim your light."

Deep down the more she thought about it, up until now, he had done nothing to prove that he wanted to take that spotlight from her. Not one thing.

So maybe Lando wasn't any different. He was the same humble man she fell for all those years back.

She finally lets out a huff as she can tell she won't be sleeping much that night, slipping on her sandals, grabbing her phone, and the hotel key.

She closed her door silently, not wanting to disturb any other guests on her floor. Turning around to walk down the hallway and towards the elevator. When she was about to press the button, the doors opened up before she could even get the chance.

Her head snapped up to make sure she let enough room through for whoever was getting off, the other person's head snapping up as well but stuttering in their steps.

"Y/N,"

Her arms came to cross around herself, not knowing how to feel in that moment. Her emotions were everywhere.

He was still in his outfit from dinner, the stains from the drink she poured on him earlier that night visible on his button-up.

"Lando,"

The pair just stared at one another for a few moments before he nodded curtly at her and walked off the elevator. That makes her snap out of it and walk into the elevator, not missing the way his cologne lingered in the space.

His head turned to her with a look she couldn't read before his head turned back around to walk down the hallway.

Before the elevator door was about to shut, she stopped it. Not knowing what was convincing her to do so. "Do you want to come walk with me?" she sputters out, making him freeze in his tracks and look back at her.

"What?"

She sighs. "I was going to go for a walk. Clear my head. I was going to see if you wanted to join me," her voice showing her nerves in the soft tone she was using.

Lando felt his own gaze soften at her words, not knowing whether to feel shocked or confused.

He motioned to his outfit. "I'm a bit overdressed," he jokes lightly, then points to his hair. "I'm also kind of sticky."

She felt her chest tighten at that comment, wanting to shoot herself in the foot for it. Instead of arguing, she just nods and steps back into the elevator.

"I mean, I could join you after," his voice shoots out. She looks at him. "After I'm done cleaning up, I mean. That's if you're alright with waiting for me. I shouldn't be long."

She hesitates at first, but then nods. "I'll wait in the lobby."

He nods back before walking with a quicker pace to his room, the elevator doors shutting and taking her down. She bit her lip as she tried to not think into it.

There was a lot to talk about, she knew that.

She sat there quietly on a bench, picking at her nail beds as her knee bounced, her thoughts going rancid as each minute passed by slower and slower.

It was almost half an hour past, and she began to overthink.

Maybe he changed his mind? She didn't blame him if he did.

Just as she was about ready to start walking to the doors, the elevator dinged open with Lando walking out, his head popping up in search of her.

He looked more comfortable, relaxed. He wore a pair of black sweats and a grey Quadrant hoodie with a black Quadrant hat backwards.

They both began to walk outside and down the street in silence, Lando putting his hands in his pockets as they walked. "Do you have a place you're walking to specifically? Or just wanting to walk?"

She nods at the first question. "I have a spot I'd like to go and sit at."

He nods, deciding not to ask anything else till they were at her destination. Knowing that her asking him to join her was a step in the right direction.

It wasn't too much longer till they were walking into a large garden, where sculptures and other art pieces stood proudly.

Lando didn't miss the way that her entire demeanor changed, the way she looked lighter when they arrived. As if the sculpture garden was something that brought her back to reality. Brought her peace.

Y/N had found a park bench in the middle of the garden, with flower pots of colorful flowers blooming out of them.

They both took a seat, Y/N still looking at the artwork, not noticing how Lando was only focused on her. How in love with the pieces around her she was. It made him realize just how deep her infatuation with the art culture went.

It was more than just art to her. It was a way of speaking without actually saying words. It spoke of emotion without actually feeling it.

"I've always loved this field for many reasons," she spoke up. "But they all led back to the same thing for me. Peace."

Lando just listened.

"It brings me back to the first-ever art show I had gone to. I was three, almost four, I don't remember much. What I do remember was seeing how bright and colorful everything was," she chuckles lightly to herself. "Especially this one painting. It's the one that I have engraved into my mind. This woman made it. It was absolutely beautiful."

She wraps her arms around herself. "It was this big old canvas. It had all these bright colored patterns and designs over it. But the further you backed away from it, you could see them all linking together into a shape of something," she explains. "It was of her mother. Her mother had passed, I learned later on. It was all I could think about every time I went to art class in school, or when I painted. How intricate every detail had been. I wanted my art to turn into that one day. She became my inspiration."

Lando nods slowly in understanding. "Little did I know that she would be the person I'm working for now, helping guide me on how to do things the correct way to make sure my art is appreciated in the way it should be," she explains, making Lando look at her.

"My work goes onto a much deeper level than what people see or hear or know. It's how I can get my emotions out without saying anything," she admits, shaking her head. "She and I throughout all of it grew a connection. I felt like I had a mom here while my mom wouldn't be. I thought she knew the right way through it all. She saw things in my artwork I didn't."

Lando just lets her talk, not wanting to speak up at the wrong moment. He just sits and listens. "All my life, I was always told I wouldn't go anywhere with my passion. That it was not something I should be going into. That I was in the wrong field," she sniffles. "That's why I'm not close with my parents anymore. They never showed an ounce of support to me. They always showed pride in my siblings. Not me, because I wanted to go down a different path. It was my grandmother who encouraged me to keep going. She was the one showing up to all of my shows. Telling me I had that special side in me to grow bigger. It was all I wanted."

Y/N wipes her eyes, only then does she realize tears are burning in her eyes. "When I heard what you said, I didn't know what to do. It brought me back to when I was eleven years old, my parents scolding me to find a new hobby that I can get into a good college for. I didn't know how to react. Or who to talk to about it without putting them in the middle," she explains. "Then she asked me why I was so sad the day before the gala, and that I should be excited for the next evening."

Lando nods as she shrugs. "So I told her what happened. Told her how you made me feel," that made Lando's guilt tighten all over again. "I was so caught up in my emotions, I didn't know what to think. I never thought my biggest fan would become my biggest hater in that moment."

He sighs, looking down at his lap where his hands sat laced together.

"So she told me that it would be best to cut you off. To not forgive or seek out what you had to say. That only men like you, men with money they can throw, as she put it. You will throw money at situations to try and fix them. That's not something I wanted on my conscience. I wanted people to know and to understand that I can do this on my own. That I put this work in by myself. I didn't want people thinking I was using you to get my work out there," she admits, Lando snapping his head at her with a frown.

"So in the moment, I thought she was right. Then, when I found out you bought a painting and put lots of money towards the schools, I panicked. I thought you were doing it for other reasons. Because all that was ringing in my head were her words. Of her being right. Because she had shown me everything to where I'm at now. I didn't think she could ever be wrong about something or someone."

Lando shook his head. "Y/N, it's not at all why I did it. You know me," he softly answers as he turned his body towards her.

She sniffles. "Part of me knew that. It really did, but I was just so afraid that she was right," she says, her voice shaky now. "I was worried it was just a money thing to you. That you were doing it mainly to make yourself look good, feel better about the situation."

"Love," he starts, using his hand to turn her chin to look at him. "I would never ever dream or even think to steal your big moment from you. I did it after I realized how important and meaningful it was to you. It's why I also kept the donation anonymous. I made sure of it."

"I know that, but I just couldn't handle the thought of people thinking I'm where I'm at because you paid it all to happen. All of this, I wanted this to be a point where I could show off how hard I worked, and not have to rely on anyone for it. I just wanted my hard work to pay off."

He sees her insides beginning to crack open, her emotions letting themselves go. He knew she never meant any harm. She was protecting herself. She was doing what she thought would prevent her from getting any sort of backlash. It wasn't out of insecurity.

It was out of habit.

"It was never for that reason. Never," he says while shaking his head. "After you left that night, I couldn't sleep. And you did work hard. Really fucking hard. Your work and commitment are why you are where you are. I felt so guilty and shitty for what I said. What I did. I let my emotions get the best of me, let the insecurities talk," he watches her tears fall, wiping them carefully away with his thumb.

"I spent all night and all day the next couple of days studying and researching everything that had to do with art and the history of it."

Her eyes soften at his words. "You what?"

He nods with a hum. "Because I realized I fucked up. I was so envious of you and how much time I wasn't getting to spend with you because both of us were working so much. You were always in the studio, or I was always away training. I blamed you for it when we both just didn't communicate around it. I let it get to me that night, and I shouldn't have."

"Lando,"

He gives her a sad smile. "So after I did all of that, I took the time scooping out the schools I remember you talking about. Seeing what I could do to help. So I bought your painting, not only for me to have a piece of you, even if I don't get to have you, but to also give back to your community. Give back to those inspired artists so they can get to your level."

"Lando," she softly says once more. He began nodding at her reassuringly. "It's okay."

She just stared at him. "I'm sorry." She shook her head, then let her choked sobs come out. "I'm so sorry for how I reacted. I was so scared, and I was so afraid that it wouldn't turn out how I wanted. I was so blinded by my past that I let it guide me the wrong way-"

Lando's face falls, shaking his head. "No, don't do that. You were protecting yourself. I get it. You didn't know what to do. I'm not going to hold that against you. You were protecting yourself in the only way you knew how. You fought back because that's what you had to do back then. You fought back because you wanted to make a name for you, and I'm proud of you for standing your ground. It's okay. I do that a lot when it comes to racing, so don't apologize for shielding yourself. Let's just communicate from now on, yeah?"

His face falls, a slight sliver of hope shining through it. "That is, if you want to work it out. I'm not going to push you."

She bit her lip, sniffling as her eyes stared into his. She felt her insides churning in an unsure manner, her walls building up and telling her otherwise. But they were at a good point. They could get past this hiccup; they could work on it. It would take time, but Lando was it for her.

She missed her Lando.

Y/N slowly nods, seeing his face contort into both relief and happiness.

"Yeah," she agrees. "I do want to. I wanna work it out. I miss you Lan. More than you know."

He smiles a real smile at her for the first time in weeks, caressing her cheek before leaning his head against hers. "We will work through it. I promise."

"I hope so."

"We will, love. I promise," he assures her. "Not going to do it alone, yeah? I'll be here."

"I'm sorry I threw a drink on you," she chuckles dryly while shaking her head. "That was a dick move."

He shrugs it off with a slight smirk on his lips. "If anything, I deserve it for saying what I said back to that night you left. No harm done."

She nods slowly in understanding. She gives him a pointed look, jokingly as she points at him. "I will say, though," she starts. "You didn't have to say anything about the waiter. We had it under control."

He winces at that, giving her a sheepish grin. "Yeah, that's on me. I still get jealous when I see men flirting with you. I'll give you that one."

She gives him a small hug, laying her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes.

"Now let's get to bed, yeah? You've gotta cheer on Charles tomorrow."

She frowns, pulling away from him. "Well, yeah, of course, but I would cheer for you, too. No matter how things would've ended," she explains. Lando gives her a look, making her squint her eyes at him.

"I also won't be racing tomorrow."

"Lando, what?!" she screeches.

"I was more focused on wanting to sort things out with you. I wouldn't have been able to focus on the race. So I was going to retire the car before the race started-"

"No."

"But love I really-"

"No. I will be there waiting when you are done," she argues back, standing up while facing him. "You're racing tomorrow. That's the final answer."

He chuckles while looking up at her. His whole world.

"Yes ma'am."

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Y/N fell asleep easier that morning, Lando had walked her back to her room when they returned. Thinking it was best to still somewhat keep their distance.

When her alarm blared at eleven am that morning, she felt more awake than she thought she would feel.

She got dressed in a vintage red and black leather jacket with a denim mini skirt to match, wearing a red tank top to match. Also, to keep it breezy, as it was very humid outside that day.

Y/N chose a pair of heeled black boots, her her in a slicked back ponytail. She chose to do lighter makeup as most of it would've melted off from the heat later in the day, pairing small golden hoop earrings to finish off the look.

Once she grabbed her sunglasses, phone, and purse, she had heard a knock on her door.

She went to open it, seeing Max standing there with a guilty look on his face. She gave him a glare before pointing at him. "I should punch you, but I won't."

He looks at her with a knowing look as he nods in defeat. "Go ahead," he says, holding his arms open while closing his eyes. Taking a dramatic breath. "I'm ready. I'll forever haunt you, just know."

The girl chuckles at him before playfully pushing him as she shuts her hotel room door, beginning to walk down the hall as Max follows in a fit of laughter. "So you're really not mad at me anymore?"

She shook her head. "Not worth it. You were doing the right thing, and I'm not going to make you pick between either of us. That's wrong."

He gives her a weird look.

"What happened to Y/N?" he jokes, making her roll her eyes under her sunglasses.

"Just did a lot of thinking, is all."

He hums in understanding as they ride down the elevator. "So, you're going to be alright today?" he asks in a softer tone. She nods.

"Yeah. I'm good."

He nods. She gives him a confused look. "Have you not spoken to him yet this morning?"

He shook his head. "Why?"

"I thought he would've said it first," she chuckles, making his eyes squint at her. "Tell me what, exactly?"

She shrugs while the elevator door flings open. "You'll see."

Max groans behind her as they join the others, giving each other hugs and whatnot before heading out to the cars. She goes and sits between Alex and Pietra.

"How're you doing?" Alex conjures up first.

Y/N nods. "I'm good. I'm alright," Alex gives her a look, making Y/N chuckle. "Promise, I'm good. Everything's alright."

Pietra decided to change the subject, knowing Y/N probably didn't want to speak about it at that moment, asking them about their plans after the races.

The rest of the ride, the girls were talking about the race, girls night, and everything under the sun while the boys up front were discussing the race stuff here and there.

It was indeed getting warmer and warmer as the day pushed out. Y/N being glad she chose to wear a skirt instead of jeans.

Once they made their way into the paddock, Y/N gave Charles one more hug before he headed to his driver's room to get changed. She turned around to see that Max, Alex and Pietra had wandered over to the McLaren garage where Lando had stood.

He was smiling ear to ear as he spoke to his friends, wearing his fireproof top and his suit around his hips per usual. His arms were crossed as he laughed at something Max was saying, Y/N trying to figure out if she was okay to join them.

Those lingering questions faded as soon as Lando's eyes found hers, doing a double-take and then smiling warmly, nodding at her to join them.

She took a deep breath before walking over, not showing any sign of nervousness. Just keeping her gaze on Lando as she got closer.

Once she was within reach, Lando reached an arm out to her waist, pulling her into a hug. "Hi, love," he mutters into her ear as he holds her in his embrace tight. She wraps her arms around his neck in return, whispering a 'hi' back before they pull apart.

Lando's hand stays lingering on her back lightly, as they both nonchalantly turn their gaze back to Max.

"You were saying?" Lando asks Max, wanting him to continue the story he was telling. Instead, he just stood there with his mouth agape. Absolutely mind blown.

Alex and Pietra were just as surprised, only knowing that the two were just at each other's throats not even twenty-four hours prior.

"When in the fuck? How in the fuck?" Max says in awe.

Lando frowns playfully. "What're you on about?"

Pietra motions her hands between the pair of them.

"Oh," he playfully chuckles. "We're alright. Things are slowly moving forward, but we're working through it." he explains, nodding slowly as he says it. Not wanting to say the wrong thing.

Y/N nods as she looks at Lando, then back to them. "We're working it out. Talked last night - or this morning I guess - and are figuring it out as we go."

They all just nod slowly, still in awe at the scene in front of them. Mainly, them being stood next to one another being the shocking part of it.

"When? How? Where?" Alex bombards, making the pair laugh.

"Long story," Y/N jokes before they hear Lando being asked to come get ready for a practice lap. He looks back at Y/N, squeezing her hip with a soft look. He would've kissed here there, but he didn't want to push her.

He says his goodbyes to the others in front of him before scurrying back into the garage, happily grabbing his helmet to put on.

Y/N looks back at her friends, who are still staring at her.

"So what happened? Like really happened?" Pietra asked.

"Yeah, last I remember, you were ready to throw him over that balcony," Max chuckles. "What changed?"

Y/N shrugged. "I couldn't sleep. Not after all of it, and I just sat there taking in everything that I knew. I thought back to how it all went down. I decided to go for a walk to try and clear my head enough to sleep. Ran into him in the elevator, and I asked him to join. He did. We expressed everything. We're working it out," she explains, trying to keep it simple and short.

"That's a relief," Max huffs, rubbing his forehead. "Although I'm shocked he went for another walk. He was so exhausted after the first one."

She frowns. "Huh?"

He nods at her. "Yeah. After you left, he and I left shortly after. He wanted to walk it out, so we spent like the next few hours walking up and down the streets," he admits, his eyes widening. "He didn't mention it?"

She shook her head. "Well now I feel bad," she said, and he shook his head.

"No, don't! If there's anything you and me know about him, is that no matter how bad things get between the two of you, he will always be there."

Y/N gives him a pursed lip smile, eyes saying a lot more than she wanted to. Lando was so in love with her, just as much as she still was. No matter their terms, she knows she would've come back down the road if not now.

Because she felt a sudden emptiness where his spot once sat in her heart. Now he was back, and it made her feel full.

"He's it for me, I think, Max. After everything, I believe he's it." she confirms, getting aw's from the girls.

"Are you sure?" Alex asks, more so in a protective friend way. Y/N nods. "I just can't bear seeing you both hurting like that again. I hated not knowing who I should be there for. I didn't want to hurt either of you."

Y/N lets her brows furrow. "Alex, no, don't ever feel like that. You truly don't ever need to be in the middle. I would've understood. No questions asked."

Alex gives her a sad smile before nodding slowly. Y/N grabs her hand to squeeze reassuringly before Max starts to usher them up into the air conditioned paddock.

Y/N and Alex bid their goodbyes and hugged before Alex walked her way down to the Ferrari paddock, Y/N looking back at Max and Pietra.

"Are you going to stay? Or are you gonna go up to the paddock balcony?" Pietra asks, Y/N smiles.

"I'll stay here."

Max smiles at that, happy to see one of his best friends finally smiling genuinely. It was the first real one he had seen on her in a long time.

If only she knew.

They all sat and conversed quietly, some of the familiar staff members coming and saying hello to Y/N as they walked by, the girl happily indulging and catching up with them.

This felt normal for her. She missed this normal. Nothing made her feel out of place, not even after how badly she had reacted against Lando the night before. Not after he kept telling her it was valid, and she was being protective of herself. Of her feelings.

She knew one thing, which was that she most likely would be parting ways with her boss. Her absolute idol, but she knew it would have to come.

Not only because of what was said, but to also travel out and explore the options that were sitting in her hands. Travel the world and paint it how she sees in her eyes.

She already had a few ideas of paintings she wanted to do, one including the boy, whose face was squishing inside his helmet as he smiled up at one of his mechanics, as he sat in his car. He sat there patiently as he waited for the real race to start in that moment.

Yeah, he was it.

Before she knew it, they were off to line it up, Y/N putting on her ear muffs as she walked over towards the balcony doors to watch them.

It wasn't too long after that they were off, Y/N's eyes now shooting over to the TVs that stood in the front of the club room. Her arms were crossed as she kept her gaze focused.

When they showed Lando passing and moving up to P2, the camera had panned towards her direction. Y/N is trying to not smile at the fact it read Famous Artist and Lando's partner below her name.

Sure, they had a lot to figure out, but she wouldn't mind seeing that under her name again.

It made her realize that he truly would always be there. In the background, on the side, right in front of her. Either way, he would happily let her shine, all the while cheering her on as she moved forward in her life.

He was never trying to dim it, or steal it, or put his name in it. He was doing it to show her he was all in. That he was seeing her.

She had a lot to heal from and to learn from; she knew that.

When the race finished, Lando ended up placing P2 while Oscar had ended up placing P1, which was still a big deal for McLaren. They were putting points on the board, which was important.

Y/N, Max, and Pietra had made their way down to stand below and in front of the podium where the boys were doing their champagne fights. Mainly spraying it at Oscar.

Y/N stayed more in the back when they came down, wanting Lando to have his moments with Max and his managers. Only for his eyes to search out for her and her only. He motions for her to move closer to the front.

She shook her head with a proud smile, shooing at him. "Take the moment with them!" she hollers back through the cheers, he looks back for a second before looking back at her and shaking his head.

Before she knew it, he had hopped over the barricade and scurried towards her. He happily pulled her into a bear hug and lifted her up off the ground with a slight spin. She laughed in surprise at his ways, knowing he would get a tap on the wrist for that stunt later. He didn't care.

When he puts her down, he places his hands on her cheeks, chuckling down at her. "You smell like leather and champagne," she giggles, earning an eyeroll from the boy.

"Next time just come up to the front then," he jokes. She gives him a weird look.

"You'll still smell."

"Yeah, but it won't be as bad because then there's more space."

She playfully smacks his chest, watching him tilt his head back to laugh.

He looks back down at her, leaning closer and closer. Y/N letting his lips barely brush over hers.

"Lando! Get your ass back on this side!" Oscar yells out, an amused look on his face as he sees why he went over there in the first place.

Lando groans, and then slithers one of his hands down to one of hers, lacing them together before guiding her back up to the front. He helps lift her over the barricade, then placing his hand back into hers.

"We celebrating tonight?" she asks as they walk back to the garages.

He gives her a knowing look. "Oh you know it, baby."

She laughs while shaking her head. "Oh boy."

"Oh boy indeed. Gonna be a great night."

She knew she was in for a long one.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

"Honey if you keep touching it, it's going to smudge."

Pietra laughs at Y/N, watching the girl trying to fix the highlight in the inner corners. "I'm just trying to make sure it's not a ton, ok? I think I accidentally put too much on the brush," she laughs back, then finally leaves it as it was. It wasn't bad, not as scary as it was at the start.

She slips on her black boots from earlier, looking over the mauve-colored halter leather top she wore with a snug black skirt to top it off.

She decided to leave her hair down in its natural state, not wanting it to frizz out in the humidity of the club walls. Once the girls do their finishing touches, they're out the door as Pietra texted Max, saying they were just leaving.

As the guys were already there with Lando and Oscar in the VIP section.

The two girls talked as they were being driven to the club, keeping it a light and simple conversation as they got closer to their destination.

Once they arrived, the chauffeur helped the girls out one at a time. Y/N thanking him before he leaves them, the girls smiling warmly up at the security guard who stood by Max.

"My two favorites. Looking as beautiful as ever."

Pietra rolls her eyes with a smile as she plants a kiss on her boyfriend. "Don't sweet-talk us. Not happening," she jokes, earning a groan from the man.

He led the two inside and past the dancefloor, upstairs to the VIP secluded lounge that overlooked the entire club.

Y/N could feel her pulse quicken at the sight of Lando, her face heating as she took him in.

His legs were spread, while he supported a drink in his hands that hung between his thighs. He had on a pair of loose-fitting jeans with a button-up short-sleeved shirt. Having it only half buttoned, and his two gold chains poking out on his chest.

His head was turned to the side as he was talking to one of the guys from McLaren, a pair of sunglasses sitting low on his nose as he laughed.

"Be polite and be nice because we like these girls," Max announces once they get there. "We like these two, so don't scare them away."

The group laughs as they join, Max pulling Pietra to sit on his lap while joining in on a conversation with Oscar and his girlfriend.

She doesn't miss the way that Lando calls her name, having her head look over his way. He smirked at her lightly, motioning with his finger for her to come to him. She happily obliged with a small smile.

As soon as she is in front of him, he doesn't hesitate to squeeze her hip and pull her down to sit on his thigh. His eyes looked up at hers through his sunglasses. She gave him an amused smirk.

"It's not sunny in here, take those off," she jokes, grabbing them from his face and putting them on her head. He doesn't let his stare falter from looking at her.

"You look absolutely ravishing," he chuckles, scanning her figure and biting his lip as he took her in.

"All Alex's choosing," she chuckles. He smiles up at her.

"She's always had good taste when it comes to dressing you up, so I'm not shocked one bit."

She pats his chest with a playful eyeroll.

"Are you sweet talking me right now?"

"I was just being honest. You want me to sweet talk you?"

She pretends to think for a second before grinning at him. "I'm intrigued. Do tell," she shoots, watching his smirk become wider.

"Well, I'll start on the fact that your lips look very kissable right now," he chuckles lightly. "I'm dying to know what flavor your gloss is."

She looks at him, biting her bottom lip. "Better find out, yeah?" she says slowly, Lando chuckling darkly as he leaned up towards her face.

Their lips were so close to finally touching for the first time in weeks, both craving the want and need just as much as the other.

"Oi! We need to get drinks for the ladies! Let's go!" Max interrupts, patting his mate's free thigh. Lando kept his eyes closed while clenching his jaw in annoyance. He squeezed Y/N's hips, then looking up at her with a look.

"Always has the best timing." he grumbles before he softly lifts her up, and having her sit in his spot as he stood up.

"Usual?" he asks her, watching her nod.

He straightens up before turning to join Max, who looks back at Y/N with a knowingly amused look in his eyes. She flips him off before letting out a chuckle, watching as they disappeared to the bar.

She decides to busy herself and turns to join in on the conversation with Oscar's girlfriend, asking what she's been up to and how everything has been travel-wise. Y/N couldn't shake off the feeling she was beginning to have after the way Lando's touch felt on her again.

She forgot how easy his touch was to melt into. Especially on nights like these.

The night went on, Lando not letting up on his touch on Y/N. He had his hand or hands on her in every single way he could. Whether it was her leg, her waist, back, arm, or hips. He couldn't keep his hands to himself.

It was later in the evening, and most of the group had made their way to the dancefloor, jamming out and dancing as the DJ had Lando up at the front spinning tunes. Y/N stood up at the booth with him, the boy insisting she had to be up there enjoying with him. She didn't dare argue.

It was always hot and fun watching him DJ, as it became a side hustle not too far back. He was pretty good at it, and when he was given the options to do it, he would never turn it down.

So she stood behind him, dancing and singing along as he mixed. Lando turning back and keeping a close distance to her as he did so.

After he finished with the latest song, he took a breather and stood to the side as the DJ transitioned into the next song. Lando turned over to Y/N with his hands out to her.

She happily took them, letting the boy pull her in close as they danced together while the beats went crazy throughout the club.

His hands had slithered away from her, rubbing up and down her sides while hers hung onto his neck. He leaned his forehead onto hers, smiling down at her as they swayed together.

The tension was growing thicker and thicker between the two. It has been weeks since they were this close. The pair really craved the other's touch more and more as the night carried on. Y/N let her hands trail up to his curls, gripping onto them in a way she used to that made him go crazy.

She watched him bite his lip as he fought back a groan from leaving his lips. "You fucker," he jokes at her, squeezing her sides and pulling her against his body.

Y/N just laughs, doing the same thing again. She watches him ripping at the seams.

Lando huffs out with a knowing smirk before pulling away from her. He grabs her hand to guide her off the booth and down past the dance floor.

She happily follows behind him, just as tension-filled as the man in front of her.

Lando looks back to make sure nobody was behind them before opening a door and pulling her inside. He shuts and locks it behind them. Y/N noticed it was a unisex bathroom. She watches as he turns to face her, saying nothing as he grabs her hips to move her over and onto the sink counter.

Y/N happily lets him drag her around, antsy for him to finally make a move.

"You want this?" he asks, his eyes softening for a second as he looks up at her.

She wraps her hands around his neck, caressing the sides of his jaw. She nods. "Yeah. Yeah I do."

"Because if we do this, there's no more going slow," he shakes his head. "I can't live without being able to touch you like this if we go slow."

Instead of saying anything else, she smiles at him with a light laugh, leaving her lips, grabbing his chin, and finally bringing his lips to her own. The kiss was messy. Teeth-clashing, tongues fighting. Lando was kissing her back like a man starved.

His hands didn't know where to go, touching and caressing anywhere he could grab.

Her hands left his face, trailing to his chest, and one hand pulling on his chains to keep him close to her as they hungrily kissed one another. With the other hand, scratching along his chest before making its way to his back to continue letting her nails scratch the skin there. A hiss leaves his mouth as her nails dig into his skin. He then groans into her mouth.

"Gonna leave those pretty marks on my back again, yeah?" he moans into her mouth, getting a breathless nod and moan from her as one of his hands squeezes her breast.

Her head falls back when he flicks over the clothed nipple, Lando's lips immediately trailing to her neck and leaving marks on his path.

"I've missed you so fucking much," he mumbles.

"You have no idea," she sighs back, bringing his mouth back to her own.

They both kissed and touched and moaned with so much need. None of it was enough for either of them. Not after how long they both went without it.

A loud banging on the door snapped them away, hearing someone say they needed the bathroom. Y/N looks at Lando who is biting his lip to keep from laughing. He looks back at here.

"You wanna get out of here?" he asks her, watching her smile grow wider.

"Take me home, Lan."

That he did.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

A/N: AHHHHHH that's the ending! I hope you guys enjoyed it, I honestly did not think this would go past two parts lol. Told you all to TRUST the process! Thank you for showing love to it :) Let me know what we think! Love you all!

Taglist:

@nickie-amore , @tylerstacobell , @piceous21 , @ariesandwolves , @lifeonawhim , @formulawhore , @asterooidsblog , @staple-your-mouth , @sinfully-yoursss , @smileyshaven , @midnightsaugust , @astrlape , @relijanka , @jooooooooo-cycycy16 , @cherryhazee , @nina481 , @lighttsoutlewis , @suns3treading , @areej003 , @dramallama9 , @putherup , @green--beanie , @footyball , @callsign-mirage , @kearasaltynalapepper , @idkwahr , @teti-menchon0604 , @footyball