#2 be clear I think they should never talk to each other again like @ this point I am like......boys this is not okay. boys im not sure if

[capricorndevil15]

Hello this is a public service announcement for the Our Wonderland community. Drive It Through Your Heart by Billy Cobb is a Genzou/Orlam song.

[astonmartinii]

imgonnagetyouback [guilty as sin part four] | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem sainz!reader

PR jail did a lot of damage, but unlike SOMEONE else, charles is ready for the apology tour

MASTERLIST | GUILTY AS SIN MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

note: the timeline is absolutely all over the place in this and for needs must pretend that the spanish and austrian races are swapped on the calendar!

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 1,045,389 others

yourusername: i think your house is haunted, why are they always mad?

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user239: i have had it with little miss poet over here TELL ME IF MY PARENTS ARE DIVORCED OR NOT

user240: i hate that as this generation, them following each other on instagram is a key feature to whether they're still together or not

user241: my grandparents didn't have to go through this 😭

maxverstappen1: spill it sis

user242: WHAT DO YOU KNOW MAX

maxverstappen1: ummm nothing, and if i did i only take cash bribes. this is baby max relating hard to the caption

user242: oh :(

yourusername: oh maxy .... at least we now have good ways to express our emotions!

user243: ma'am he tore lando's wheel off because he can't handle wheel to wheel racing

liked by landonorris

yourusername: it's called hard racing, maybe mclaren should watch some of senna's old races instead of doing their 100th tribute livery xx

landonorris: you know he said you would do this exact thing, you can't handle anyone linked to your brother doing well

yourusername: oh i was perfectly prepared for you to win every race after miami since it was clear that the mclaren is the fastest car on the grid EVEN THOUGH you've publicly sided with them when anyone with a moral backbone (and a hint of PR awareness) would've run for the hills

landonorris: i'd really worry about the fact that the one piece of relevance you had left is no where to be seen, you're not worth defending for him

yourusername: it's insane the way you all have the same pompous attitude about this (i know that's a big word, but maybe you guys could get a couple of quid together to buy a dictionary)

maxverstappen1: also don't try and pretend 1. that you're completely in the right about everything that happened in austria 2. that you weren't scrounging around me (when we were friends i guess) trying to get details on y/n and charles

user244: okay this is wild

user245: i really thought lando would see the light on this

user246: or he realised that he can't race wheel to wheel unless he has the power of carlando friendship so he's burning bridges

oscarpiastri: i miss leo

yourusername: we literally are down the street bozo

oscarpiastri: i am ON MY WAY

user247: she's in monaco ???

user248: has to be, oscar only has a rental place he stays in london for mclaren and y/n has only ever lived in madrid or monaco

user249: there is still hope everyone

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 2,309,677 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: was i out of line? did i say something way too honest?

there are a couple things i need to get off of my chest.

first, a massive apology to my girlfriend. y/n is the love of my life and will be my wife sooner or later and i hate that as a 26-year-old grown man i haven't had the backbone to stand up to ferrari when it comes to her. she's incredibly strong and i hate that she's had to go through this without my public support. i can't take it back now, but if i could i never would've let them take my phone and take control of my social media. they have now been dealt with and no one will stop me declaring my love and support for her.

second, if i hadn't already ran out of patience before, the legal trouble that family have put their own blood through threw me over the edge. they will never, ever deserve that girl and if i have anything to do with it they will never talk to her ever again. i may have been silent online but money talks and we will have vindication soon.

third, a big thank you to max, oscar and ollie for their continued support of y/n. it means so much that the public still saw how loved she is when i couldn't.

four, i am awake and i am angry, these people will learn who they are fucking with. see you soon lecfosi, it'll all be worth it in the end.

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user254: WAR IS OVER

user255: my heart dropped when i got the post notification but this is the best news possible

user256: am i going to excuse a 26-year-old man for being a pussy? no. but i am going to celebrate him seeing the light and y/n having him back in her corner

yourusername: he was never out of my corner. true there was no public support, but he was there. i would rather have his support behind closed doors where it matters than plastered all over social media

maxverstappen1: you wouldn't believe the lengths these two were going, i became a messenger pigeon when they physically took his phone and the letters were so grossly cute

yourusername: that's literally mail tampering

maxverstappen1: and i'm a human not a pigeon, we can't all get what we want

charles_leclerc: i did i got y/n 😁😁😁

maxverstappen1: ugh welcome back gross instagram comments

user257: so that's what max meant when someone referenced letters that's so cuteeeee

user258: the shout out to max and the extended leclerc family i know that's right

oscarpiastri: anything for my grid mum

olliebearman: actually charles can you get your phone taken away again cause the heist was VERY fun

yourusername: heist???????

charles_leclerc: don't answer that ollie

yourusername: answer it ollie, did you put yourself in harms way ???

charles_leclerc: it was hardly high-stakes

olliebearman: we only stole a phone from silvia's office

yourusername: ollie that's kind of slay but i'm going to need you to delete all of these incriminating comments i don't want you to get in trouble for charles

user259: i know this is just eating up carlos inside seeing how loved she is in his sport

user260: it really does seem that lando is the only one in his corner

sebastianvettel: i am proud of you charles, i know how much ferrari means to you, but never let them take you from those who matter

charles_leclerc: thank you seb, i couldn't have done it without you

yourusername: we love you seb

sebastianvettel: my impromptu not at all prompted trip to maranello definitely wasn't to give you a well-earned slap up the side of the head

user261: no carlos bitching it up in the comments... i've been dreaming of this

maxverstappen1

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,734,037 others

tagged: charles_leclerc & yourusername

maxverstappen1: back to being a third-wheel, balance is restored - the united front of hating is BACK BABY

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user263: i prayed for times like this

user264: i know they didn't break up but i'm so glad y/n and charles are back together they're too pretty not to be in our faces 24/7

yourusername: just paying you back for you and kelly let me crash on the sofa

maxverstappen1: that really wasn't the burden you thought it was, jimmy and sassy loved their interactive cat bed

yourusername: i miss them (don't tell leo)

charles_leclerc: HOW DARE YOU MUM :((((((((

yourusername: okay baby we're not going to do that ...

charles_leclerc: but :( his feelings are hurt

yourusername: i know lewis is cool and will be your new teammate, but i draw the line at pretending to be leo in the instagram comment section

roscoelovescoco: watch urs backs

yourusername: AHAHAHHAHAHA

maxverstappen1: this man is about to turn 40

lewishamilton: you people ever heard of having some whimsy in your life

yourusername: i got sued by my own family 👍

lewishamilton: um yeah, sorry that happened to you

user265: y/n be ticking up the amount of drivers she's gone toe to toe with in instagram comments

charles_leclerc: you can finally eat my ice cream without trying to hide it

maxverstappen1: i think it's against my partnership contracts to publicly say that i like that ice cream

yourusername: don't worry baby we both ate three tubs and cried watching chick flicks while you were locked away in maranello

charles_leclerc: there's a reason a special edition strawberry flavour made its way to you

yourusername: i love you :(

carlossainz55: you might be "united" but you haven't won yet

charles_leclerc: do you ever shut the fuck up?

carlossainz55: oh someone finally found their voice

charles_leclerc: yeah i did which means you don't get to control the narrative anymore and i can call you a bitch

maxverstappen1: also if there was anyway we would lose, at least we are united, i can count how many friends you have left in this sport on one hand and two of them are your dad and your cousin

charles_leclerc: and watch out, clearly you guys aren't afraid to betray family, who knows it could be you next?

user266: i think charles is still being restrained but can we please at least get one day when he can fully go off his rocker

user267: i think we deserve it after all of it

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,764,094 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: she's not only poet barbie but also lawyer barbie - THAT POETRY IS MINE BITCH, SUCK MY DICK AND RUN ME MY MONEY

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user268: i don't think i've ever been more happy for a stranger before in my life

user269: she deserves this so much i'm actually like over the moon

charles_leclerc: i'm so happy for you baby, i knew it would all be worth it in the end

yourusername: they can't stop my romantic ramblings now

charles_leclerc: i don't know if i want them to hear them all

yourusername: oh no some are for our ears only ;)

oscarpiastri: unfortunately it's NOT all just for your ears

olliebearman: for a millionaire i thought you'd at least buy a house with thick walls

maxverstappen1: you'll get used to it after a while

yourusername: THERE WAS CAUSE FOR CELEBRATION ARE YOU GUYS NOT HAPPY FOR ME ???

oscarpiastri: clearly not THAT happy

charles_leclerc: good. that would be entirely inappropriate

user270: finally some normal fucking couple stuff for y/n and charles

user271: their dynamic is so cute going from poetry to FUCKING

user272: i would be the exact same if i looked like either of them

fernandoalo_oficial: spoken like a real poet, i'm happy for you niña

yourusername: thank you pops !! couldn't have done it without you <3

fernandoalo_oficial: dealing with charles having close to a nervous breakdown every weekend was a lot, but i'm glad you have each other

charles_leclerc: thank you nando :)))) (i didn't have a nervous breakdown)

fernandoalo_oficial: you stress ate seven punnets of grapes

charles_leclerc: FERRARI I SWEAR I DIDN'T

charles_leclerc: wait i'm still annoyed at you ignore that

user273: i think charles is the first case of stockholm syndrome to a sports team

yourusername: @carlossainz55 come on i wanna tussle stop being a pussy

carlossainz55: enjoy your victory lap while you can, it won't last for long

yourusername: suck my actual dick, you put me through this i won't let you run away from it

yourusername: massive tip because i'm feeling generous, maybe actually come to court because there's a lot that you could know ...

carlossainz55: why would i waste my time on you?

yourusername: all will reveal itself

user274: oh it's finally on the other foot .... i'm enjoying this

user275: i think y/n and charles are too

f1tea

liked by user276, user277 and 21,056 others

tagged: carlossainz55

f1tea: sources close to us say that there is serious worry in the sainz camp after the courts decided they were unlawful in their actions against y/n sainz. the financial standings of the sainz family were already somewhat dyer before they took the youngest sainz' income but it's said to be even worse now they've had to pay damages.

in terms of f1, several of the teams that were interested in sainz were put off by the way he and his family were treating his sister but have fully backed out now the financial struggles of the sainzs has become clear.

this comes after a number of sponsors have ended their partnerships with the spaniard. where do you think he'll end up?

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user278: at the job centre hopefully

user279: i think this is what the kids call poetic justice

user280: the way charles just picked up a new sponsor... we love to see it!

user281: all the sponsors flocking to charles is so fucking real

user282: life comes at you so fucking fast

user283: in the words of his hero: KARMA!

user284: especially since fernando congratulated y/n on her win in court 😭

user285: bro can't even afford the tractor seat at williams i am HOWLING

user286: or at sauber, boy oh boy this is some great great content for a hater like me

user287: or HAAS and they fucking took nikita mazepin

user288: the next race can't come fast enough i wanna see how this guy spins it in the media

user289: for once in his life i can't see him spinning this is any way that makes him look good

user290: god i hope y/n is in the paddock as well

user291: oh gosh i need her diana revenge dress moment

user292: i don't care if that's your brother i need you to STUNT ON HIM

user293: other than y/n and charles, i know oscar is cheering at this news

user294: bro saw his grid parents get back together and his biggest opp be declared broke and jobless

user295: i really don't understand how y/n slutting round the paddock has been praised so much when her hopping from driver to driver has cost her brother his dream

user296: cope.

user297: also y/n has only ever been with charles DESPITE carlos and her father trying to pimp her out for favours

usr298: now we know this ^^ i don't understand why carlos was so annoyed that she was finally doing what they always wanted

user299: it was because it didn't serve him.

user300: he was probably happy y/n was with charles until he realised it was for you know an ACTUAL relationship rather than psychological teammate warfare

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, marcmarquez93 and 104,889 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

carlossainz55: it was never 'true love' if all you ever wanted was to bag a trophy husband and never work again

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user302: posting a picture of charles' crash and tagging him is nasty business

user303: would've been iconic if i wasn't him

user304: also that caption just really isn't the read he thought it was

user305: i grew up watching posh spice and cheryl cole in the stands at england games like obvs people want to be with athletes

user306: also this guy pretending he doesn't have a revolving door of models who are just there to be wags

yourusername: yes? and.

yourusername: at least wag isn't my only job. you better hope that rebecca stays booked honey

carlossainz55: don't bring rebecca into this she has nothing to do with any of this

yourusername: awwww did you already cheat? that does track...

yourusername: also you've been slandering my boyfriend all over the internet and ON THIS POST so shut the fuck up i'll bring up who i want to bring up

carlossainz55: get the fighting words out, you might need them when charles questions why you just happened to fall into his lap

yourusername: you've stolen every last penny from me, sued me and tried to turn everyone i care about against me - and guess what? YOU'RE STILL STUPID

carlossainz55: i'm not stupid you're a gold digging slut and you WILL BE FOUND OUT

yourusername: i actually think i could play pinball with the one remaining brain cell in your head

user307: i know this is serious drama but YES SASSY Y/N IS UNLEASHED FROM HER LAWYER'S GRASPS

user308: someone TAP CHARLES IN

user309: please you're out of the ferrari jail NOW IS THE TIME

charles_leclerc: you think i'm going to be offended that the most beautiful girl in the world has always wanted to be with me?

yourusername: what if i told you i'm a mastermind?

charles_leclerc: i would say i'm impressed and FLATTERED

yourusername: and now you're mine :P

charles_leclerc: and i'm glad

charles_leclerc: and i am of the serious belief that even if you didn't seek me out, we would've found each other regardless

yourusername: you made me believe in soulmates

maxverstappen1: @carlossainz55 this post really didn't do what you thought it would lOL

oscarpiastri: bro is falling at every hurdle

carlossainz55: yeah, yeah fuck you two. i'll see you on the track

maxverstappen1: if you can get close enough :P

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,783,088 others

tagged: charles_leclerc & maxverstappen1

yourusername: siri play hoes mad

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user310: this girl is a bestselling poet and this is how she's captioning her instagram posts

user311: babe we're like months into a family war that has had whole ass court cases we don't need eloquent captions

oscarpiastri: where's that one tiktok audio

yourusername: that audio has gone platinum in our house, i think i've saved every edit with it and charles

charles_leclerc: they do slap every time

maxverstappen1: HOES MAD HOES MAD HOES MAD

yourusername: someone is enjoying this

maxverstappen1: i've been praying on these people's downfall since i was 17 i've got a fancy bottle of wine i've been waiting to open

yourusername: we've really been through the wars with these people

charles_leclerc: and ME

maxverstappen1: well here's to them being BROKE AS FUCK LOL

yourusername: cheers!

charles_leclerc: 🥂

user312: this has been some kind of crazy turn around

user313: considering we all thought they had broken up not long ago we have come SO far

charles_leclerc: i'd have the whole world mad at me if it kept you by my side

yourusername: i love you so much

user314: tbf i'd say a good 80% of people were mad at you when you were being ferrari's bitch

charles_leclerc: HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY I'M SORRY

sebastianvettel: if it's any consolation, he was very torn up about it

yourusername: i know what happened charles, don't worry. i know you're dedicated to your craft and have people you want to win for

charles_leclerc: but i'm also dedicated to you

yourusername: we're in it together, forever now

yourusername: although this does mean ferrari have to deal with me now

user314: ugh they're so precious

carlossainz55: i'll have the last laugh don't you worry. you may have won the battle but you have not won the war.

user315: does this guy ever Shut the FUCK UP

user316: i'm bored. can't you just let them be happy

carlossainz55: no.

fin.

note: I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG but here she is, can't tell whether i love it or hate it - probably because i've been looking at it so long xx i guess p5 will be out hopefully some time soon and i hope my tagging works

[sttm99]

Part 2 here!

'Fuck.'

It had been just two nights since you'd given him head in the dark of his dorm room, and Bakugo hadn't been able to rid his mind of the sensation ever since.

He knew it was stupid to even agree to it. You were the one girl in class he felt comfortable enough to talk about anything with. Be it grades, his fears and even more sexual topics. It also helped that he knew you wouldn't ever judge him for anything.

You were his closest friend; more so than Kirishima. And he liked that... he liked that he has someone he could trust with his life, someone he could relate with so effortlessly.

And you felt the same way with him. You told him everything; every little secret, every dirty detail, and he never laughed or judged.

Which was why you both were in his room, many hours past his bedtime, sitting opposite each other on his bed as you recounted your most recent almost-sexual endeavor.

"-and it was so awkward cause it was just hanging there in my face and I didn't know what to do." You groaned out, with your body hunched over, face covered with your palms as you recounted your experience in the school's storage room with a General Studies boy you'd been seeing casually.

Bakugo chuckled at your demeanor from where he was. "Yeah then maybe you should have stopped him when you saw him undoing his fucking belt."

You glared at him through the cracks between your fingers.

"Seriously," he laughed. "If you didn't wanna give him head, you should have told him the moment you entered the closet."

You groaned and fell back unto his bed. "The thing is I want to do it."

You turned your head to stare up at Bakugo.

"So why didn't you?"

You groaned again. "I don't know. I mean... look, I wanna be able to make the guy I like feel good, you understand. And I really thought I wanted to give him head, but then he was pulling his jeans down- and I was getting cold feet and then he pulled down his boxers and I wanted to run away right then....

"But I pushed through- and I got down... and it was just staring at my face and-"

"Maybe you just don't wanna do it." Bakugo raised his brow, cutting you off from your rambling.

You frowned. "Maybe. I mean, I think about giving head...and I wanna do it, and then I get an opportunity and I panic. You're probably right."

There was silence for a moment, before Bakugo shifted in his position, pulling his knees higher up, closer to his body, and leaning his forward.

"Or maybe... you don't wanna do it with him."

You furrowed your brows. "Meaning..? I don't really like him or what?"

Bakugo shrugged, "I mean, do you?"

You began sitting up. "Don't I?"

"Come on, Y/N." He raised a brow, giving you an unimpressed look, "You don't even text him unless he texts you."

"Yeah because he's always texting me."

"See! You even say it like you're frustrated." Bakugo jutted his arms out at you.

You paused, sitting up and pondering it.

Bakugo groaned. "Listen, I know you, okay? You- frankly, you're horny... more so than most people-"

You scowled at him.

"-and the fact that you don't even let him put his hands under your fucking skirt most times should tell you that you're probably not all that sexually attracted to him."

You stared at Bakugo, eyes narrowed as you began to see his point. "I guess you're on to something."

"Look," he began, "I honestly think you're just with him because of how aggressively he pursued you. And that's fucking dumb."

You pouted. "I guess... so now I have to find someone else to practice head with."

"Why do you wanna learn how to give head?" He laughed.

"Cause the girls were talking about giving head one time and I wanna be able to join in conversations." I groaned out, exasperated, and flopped back unto your back.

Bakugo took a moment to look you over, before adjusting his shorts and clearing his throat.

"I can give you pointers if you want."

Silence.

"What?" You mumbled, sitting back up, with your weight on your palms and narrowing your eyes at him.

He scowled at you. "I'm not repeating myself."

You rolled your eyes and hissed at his stubbornness. "You idiot."

"But..." You started slowly. "If you're offering to give me tips on sucking dick, I don't mind."

He shifted a bit. "Yeah... well- it'll only work if you're sexually attracted to me. If not, it'll just be like with that guy earlier- and shit would be awkward." He was looking away now.

"Wanna find out?"

And that was how he found himself heaving against his headboard with his shorts and boxers flung at the far end of his bed.

"Shitshit- fuck Y/N."

His hands were fisted into your hair, knees raised in the hair and thighs spread on either side of your head, as you laid on your stomach before him, nose pressed into his dark blonde pubic hair and lips wrapped tightly around his dick.

His eyes were blown wide, lips parted as grunts forced their way out his mouth.

It was just bordering on too much; the sensation of your mouth, and he'd suddenly realised how seriously you'd taken his analogy.

-"Consider it a bottle of smoothie or something, and there's that chunk that can't pass through the bottle mouth properly, so you're trying to suck it out." He'd said, holding his already hard dick against your cheek.

"That sounds stupid, Katsuki." You retorted, as you scowled up at him.

"That's the best I got, I ain't some sex therapist, okay!"-

"Oh shit- you're good," he groaned out, head thrown back and thighs quivering. "Fuck- fuck! Fuck, you're fucking good, baby. Just like that, yeah..!"

His grip on your hair tightened, pushing you down on his dick so he could feel the sliding of your tongue on his shaft as he dipped into your throat.

It didn't help that you were drooling all over him- and yourself-, your hand cupping his balls and squeezing softly.

He was going into overdrive, thrusting up unto your mouth, his eyes rolling back as he slipped down your throat over and over again, and he moaned as he felt you gag, your throat constricting against his tip.

He brought his head forward to peek over at you.

"Slut," he groaned out, eyeing your positioning; one hand infront of you, playing with his balls, and the other stretched underneath your body, fingers dipping into your sleepshorts. "You fucking slut- you like this shit, don't you?"

You moaned around his dick, vibrations coursing round his veins and your eyes looking up to meet his; lids hanging heavy and pupils blown out as you sucked on his cock.

He came heavy- hard. With spasming thighs and choked out groans as he spurted his seed down your throat.

It was a lot... too much. He kept spurting out his cum and his sight was blurry as he looked at you.

Now he couldn't look at you without remembering your stupid, fucked expression when you were between his legs. And it's weird, because all you're doing is grinning an Sato as you hover around him whilst he bakes.

It's stupid. He knows it is.

You don't even like him that way.

Part 2 has been posted here!

[bunniesanddeer]

Touch Pt 2

Alastor x GN!Reader

Part One

Plot: Alastor talks to Charlie about his problem, sort of. Then he settles the situation with Reader.

Tags: GN! Reader, fluff, angst, minor pining, short fic.

Word Count: 1,591

Touch Pt. 2

It was Charlie that came to get him. He had neglected to make dinner or even tell the others that he wasn’t going to make it that night. Charlie had knocked on his door, her rhythmic knock ever-so recognizable, and leaned her head just inside. 

“Hey, Al? You alright, in there?” He could see her eyes flit about, before landing on him. “We were worried about you.”

Alastor just hummed, disinterest coloring his face. He was sitting at a small table just across the border of the original room and his swamp, sipping a cup of coffee, and reading. 

Charlie, seemingly ignoring his clear show of indifference, stepped further into his room, shutting the door behind her. 

“Don’t worry about dinner. Angel begged for us to just order pizza instead. Something about ‘junk food healing the soul’, or whatever,” Charlie continued, making her way towards Alastor. Although her hands fiddled with each other, she kept her voice steady. Charlie was getting better at hiding her nerves around Alastor. (He could almost say he was proud, but that would be inane!) “Just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Charlie said your name, and Alastor’s ear perked, on their own accord. “They mentioned you seeming off earlier, but didn’t want to bother you.”

“I can assure you that I am fine, dear. I don’t know what silly thoughts they’ve put in your head, but everything is fine,” Alastor said, trying to keep his smile wide. When he finally looked at Charlie, he realized she hadn’t believed a word he’d said. How ridiculous! There was nothing wrong! She should just take his word for it, and leave. 

“I don’t know. You do seem bothered by something.” Charlie made her, ridiculous, thinking face, before nodding to herself. She promptly sat herself in the seat opposite Alastor, and folded her hands on the table. “You should talk about it. It’s not good to let these things bottle up.”

Alastor nearly dropped his smile so he could glare at her. How absolutely ludicrous! He had nothing to talk about! And even if he did, he had nothing he would willingly tell Charlie. “There is nothing to talk about. Please leave.”

Charlie cocked her head, and narrowed her eyes. She said your name, again, watching his ears twitch. “This is about them, isn’t it! You’ve been acting weird around them recently. Always staring at them.”

Alastor gritted his teeth, trying to hold his composure. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“HA! It is! You would never respond like that if it wasn’t.” Charlie smiled smugly, and Alastor wanted to claw her face off. He couldn’t, but it was an entertaining thought. He could turn her skin into ribbons, and use them to gift-wrap things for Rosie. “Come on, what’s going on? You didn’t have a problem with them before.”

Alastor hesitated. He could try and pry information out of Charlie, if he let himself be a tiny bit honest. He sighed, and set down his book and mug. “Alright, I’ll tell you a little, but! I have a question first.”

Charlie gave him a suspicious look, but she acquiesced with a nod. 

“Why are they suddenly all… touchy with everyone? You mentioned some time ago that they don’t like being touched, but that seems to have changed, rather out of nowhere,” Alastor said, trying to keep his motivation for the answer hidden. He watched as Charlie’s face flooded with multiple emotions, before settling on something soft. He couldn’t tell what it was, but it made his skin crawl. The deer-demon hoped that expression had nothing to do with him. 

“Ah. Yeah. I meant to explain that when they talked to me about it recently, but I completely forgot,” Charlie sighed, brushing a hand through her hair. “They’re touch averse, but when they get comfortable with people, especially good friends, it’s something they start to… hmm what is the word I want to use… They kind of start to crave it. Touch is something they don’t get a lot of, so when they are comfortable with someone, they’ll initiate a lot of it. So now that they’re settled into the hotel, and know all of us well enough, they’re more comfortable.”

He had never considered something like that before. You would get lonely, wouldn’t you? You were a very outgoing soul, but sequestering yourself from others would get hard after a time, wouldn’t it? The more Alastor thought about it, the more it made sense. You had been there quite a while once you started to get tactile with the others. But still, it didn’t make sense that he would be excluded! You were always so nice to him! You sometimes sought him out for conversation. Was he too overbearing sometimes? Alastor’s mind slightly spiraled, the longer he thought about it. 

“You alright there, Al?” Charlie’s voice interrupted his mental descent with a rough jerk. “Does your problem have something to do with that?”

Alastor looked away from the princess, trying to contain his thoughts down enough so he could tell her without giving it all away. But the idea of you fearing him or something of that nature made his stomach churn. He couldn’t think straight.

“Then why not me?”

Alastor didn’t realize he had spoken until Charlie’s eyebrows popped up. “Oh. Oh geez.” Her face scrunched in guilt. “That might be my fault.”

A screech interrupted the soft static that played around Alastor. “What?”

Charlie’s eyes flitted about, uncomfortable with the weight of Alastor’s glare. “Yeah. I mentioned, pretty early on to them, that you also don’t like being touched. That sometimes you might touch others, but you didn’t like it.”

Alastor cupped his forehead in one hand, and glared down at the table. “Are you kidding me?”

“Ah, no. I’m pretty sure that’s it. They’re pretty good about keeping boundaries, so they might have been trying to make sure you were comfortable,” Charlie muttered. She cupped her face in her hands, melting into them with guilt. “I’m so sorry, Al. I can totally go talk to them for you. If I had known this was a problem, I would never…”

Alastor tuned out Charlie’s ramblings. This whole thing had been a misunderstanding. Somewhat. It was true, he didn’t like being touched, most of the time. However, he did not like being left out of things without being consulted! It should have been up to him to draw that line. Alastor huffs to himself, and decides he will simply talk to you, himself.

He abruptly stands from his chair. “Alright then! I’m off to go talk to the little darling! I will straighten this out myself, Charlie.” Without another word, or even bothering to make sure she left his room, he took off towards your room.

He knocks twice, and waits patiently. Alastor hears a few thumps, and is glad that you’re inside. Much better to have this conversation in a private place, rather than out in the open!

The door creaks open, and there you are! You smile up at him. “Hi, Alastor. What can I do for you,” you ask. 

Ha! What could you do for him? (What couldn’t you do? No. He wasn’t going to continue thinking.)

“Hello, my dear! I was hoping you had a moment, so we could talk! Hopefully, inside?” He gestures towards the inside of your room, and, although you hesitate, you nod. You open the door wider, and let him in.

“What’s up?” You ask. (He would never get over how strange slang and expressions got in recent years. At least he could understand most of them now. It used to be hard to understand younger souls).

“Ah. I was hoping to clear up a misconception that you might have.” Alastor leans down, leaving a few inches of space between your faces. Your eyes widen, just slightly, in surprise, but he is pleased to see you hold your ground. “I do not always mind being touched. I have, in fact, noticed you actively avoiding touching me.” Alastor leans back, suddenly, placing a hand over his heart. “And oh, does it hurt, dearest!”

He says it as if it’s a joke, (it isn’t), and it is, but he dislikes being singled out in matters as trivial as these! Your brows furrow, but you still give him a smile.

“Ah, dang, Al. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to exclude you. I just thought you didn’t like that kind of stuff.” You smile wider, your tone turning silly. “I’ll make sure to include you in all our group hugs now!”

Alastor’s brows flatten, and his ears pin back, just slightly. “Please don’t.”

Your eyes close as you smile and laugh. You take a hand and cover it up. (Alastor wants to pull it down. One should never hide their smile. He doesn’t, though). He feels a weight, that he hadn’t noticed, lift from him at the sight. 

When you put a hand on his arm and squeeze, softly, it feels right. He says little more, just a ‘good night’. When he finally deigns to make himself dinner, he lets the joy finally saturate his body. What a delightful feeling!

He enjoys the next several days, where he realizes how many little touches you give him. If he preens beneath them, or his smile grows wider, or his tail wags, no one notices. Much better that way. No one needed to know. 

Much less you, with your soft smiles, and happy laughter. 

Not knowing would always be the better option.

Taglist:

I have no idea how to do one of these! I apologize if it doesn't work! Also, some of the names aren't working, when I try to tag, so I am sorry if you are listed, but it didn't work??

@wpdarlingpan @cxrsedwxrlds @littledolly2345 @angelofthorr @nkirukaj @hazelfoureyes @teh-vampire-bunny @fairyv-ice @ittoehurt @poppingaround @mysterypotatoink @viridiya @xalygatorx @viviannagiorgini

ALSO

Thank you?? I wasn't expecting the response that I got from everyone! Thank you so much! I really appreciate it. I squee'd out loud when I saw how many people had read my silly little fic. Also, if you have left an ask, I am working on it, I promise! I just have a very crazy schedule.

[inevesgf]

GOOD LUCK CHARM

with both of you being busy, you have the chance to surprise charles before his race in monza and bring him some good luck on the track — wrote by inevesgf.

content + warnings: female!actress!reader, carlos sainz feature, sweet talking, swearing, mentions of alcohol, some french + spanish, sex (unprotected) — p in v, oral (female receiving), light dirty talking, fluff + a lil sappy!!

masterlist + requesting rules.

monza  grand  prix,  2022.

you and your boyfriend had conflicting schedules to say the least. red carpets and movie premieres: you were always busy. charles on the other hand spent most of his time on the sim, and to show off his hard work, on the track. when the two of you started dating, you knew it would be hard. the long phone calls from across the globe and weeks without seeing each other was difficult, but it made times when you could come together even more special. 

it was now saturday, september 10th — just a day before the grand prix in monza and a week shy of your 2 year anniversary with charles. after wrapping up with filming early, you wanted to do something extra special for charles. with monza being a big deal for the ferrari team and your anniversary approaching, you wanted to surprise him. without charles knowing – or even being suspicious for that manner – you had sneakily made your way to italy in order to be there for the grand prix.

it was qualifying day, the sun bright and the sky clear, when you had arrived at the circuit. you greeted some of the ferrari crew as you walked into the paddock, their faces lighting up in excitement when they saw you. quali was set to start in a few hours, which gave you just enough time to plan how you would surprise your sweet boyfriend before he was swept away once again.

“look at who it is!” a voice erupted behind you, causing you to turn around. “i was starting to think i would never see you in a paddock again.” laughed carlos sainz, your boyfriend’s teammate. you smiled at him, laughing softly when he pulled you into a friendly hug. “shhh, i’m surprising char.” you hushed, a small smile decorating your lips. “well, keeping a secret from him is working. if he knew you were coming, he would not have shut up about you all day.” teased carlos.

everyone close to charles and you knew just how much the two of you loved each other. your public affection was never overwhelming to your peers, but they admired the soft forms of intimacy charles’ wasn’t afraid to display to you in public. of course, with while both of you being in the public got in the way, charles was never afraid to show you were his. 

“i’ve missed him badly, but i couldn’t tell him. i knew it would make him anxious so i have kept it a surprise. don’t want him getting too excited that i’ve come to watch the race that he crashes during free practice.” you laughed, brushing your hair from your face as you looked up at carlos. 

“very wise decision.” the spanish man laughed, peering over his shoulder briefly. “i am not sure where charles is now – do you want me to find him for you?” carlos asked, his eyes looking everywhere but you as he scanned around for his teammate.

“no no – its okay. do you think i should wait til after quali? make it like a big surprise that i was there to watch him?” you proposed, also joining carlos’ eyes in scanning the room to make sure charles wasn’t in sight – it would ruin the surprise if he had seen you too soon after all. 

“you might be on to something, niña.” carlos teased, laughing softly; he always knew how to press your buttons with his friendly banter.  “don’t you worry, i will make sure he doesn’t know you’re here til then.” he winked before quickly turning on his heels when vasseur called for him. “see you later. and who knows – maybe you’ll bring charles some good luck in quali while you’re here, pequeña amuleto de buena suerte.”

for the first time in your banter-filled friendship, carlos had a point. and he was right. charles was going to start from pole in monza the next day and you couldn’t be more proud of your boy. monza was a big deal for ferrari – as well as charles and the tifosis – which made the pole all the more special.

charles rid himself of his helmet, tugging his balaclava off his head which showed off his bright smile on the television screen in the viewing room. you couldn’t help but smile, incredibly happy for your boyfriend and anxious that you'd see him any minute.

after having a quick debrief, charles was finally able to make his way back to the ferrari garage and into cooler air conditions. you could see him now, his suit loosely draped over his waist revealing the white fireproofs underneath. you could have sworn charles had gotten more attractive since you’d last seen him in person — his daily selfies just didn’t suffice.

your heart started to thud in your chest, anxiety and excitement overwhelming you. when charles had turned his back to where you had been, starting a conversation up with carlos, you took this as your cue. you slowly walked up behind charles, placing a hand hesitantly on his shoulder. “guess who?” you whispered, not being able to hold back a small laugh at your awkward words.

you could have sworn charles almost died of excitement as he quickly whipped around, pulling you by the waist and engulfing you in the tightest hug. “mon cœur, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” he breathed heavily, mumbling words into your neck as he kissed it softly. you wrapped your arms tightly around him in return, charles’ grip so taut you’d think he believed if he let go you’d disappear. “i didn’t want to spoil the surprise.” you laughed, a smile decorating your face as you laid your head into his shoulder. “congrats, lovebirds. i will see you two soon.” carlos laughed, walking away with a smirk on his face. 

charles pulled away, placing a hand softly on your cheek. his face was decorated with a sweet, soft smile that had you melting. “did you just get here?” he questioned softly. “no,” you responded, “before quali – i wanted to watch before i surprised you.” charles smile only grew bigger as he pulled you into his sweaty embrace once again. “that’s why i did so good then – not because of the car – because you were here.” his words almost made you want to cry, a smile on your face as you brought your lips up to kiss his cheeks.

“you’re like my good luck charm,” charles hummed softly before pulling away again, his bright eyes locking onto yours. charles spoke up again, “you’re staying for the race, right?” you nodded, the smile never able to leave your lips. “i wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

when charles was finally able to leave the paddock, you two were able to have the whole night to yourselves – alone. this was quite rare for the two of you during the season, so when it happened, it was like getting a puppy for christmas.

“i think this occasion calls for the best.” charles hummed, fetching two wine glasses from the cupboard at his airbnb. he pulled out some expensive wine gifted to him by the team after he received pole which made you laugh. “homme chic,” you teased, a smile on your face. “going to spoil me?” with your words charles laughed, setting the bottle down onto the table once he poured two glasses. he approached where you had been sitting, wrapping his arms around you in the chair before bringing his mouth down to your ear. “in more ways than one tonight.” he spoke low and teasingly which never failed to send a shiver down your spine. “j'ai de la chance.” you cooed, winking playfully.

you don’t know what happened between charles pouring the wine and the moment he had you laid across the dining table, your legs spread as if you were the buffet he was about to devore. you moaned, your hands tangling in his soft hair as he sucked on your clit. charles always made sure to pay attention to your sensitive areas, never leaving anything untouched when he pleased his girl as one of his fingers began to pump inside of you. his tongue paid extra attention to your bud, flicking it and spelling his name with his tongue. 

charles laped up every bit of juice that leaked out of you, his free hand gripping your thigh. he pulled his lips away briefly, his hot breath tickling you as he spoke against the skin of your thigh. “maybe eating this sweet pussy will give me luck tomorrow, huh?” charles teased, making you shiver. he got up from his kneeled positon, leaning between your legs on the table to kiss you deeply. his tongue danced around yours, the taste of your slick on his lips making you whine into the kiss. “i love you.” charles grumbled, reaching down to undo his jeans as he moved his lips to your neck, sucking on it like he had your clit.

god, you fucking missed charles. every little part of him. from the way he kept you safe, the way he talked to you, the way he loved you – all of it. “i love you, i love you so much.” you moaned out softly as he attacked your neck with kisses, your hands joining his at the waistband of his boxers as you helped him rid himself of them. you spread your legs wide open for him as his lips left your neck, his hungry eyes looking down at you as his hard cock began to tease at your folds.

sometimes you and charles liked to play dirty. he’d make you beg, cry in pleasure – but you both loved taking it slow as well. even if he was fucking you brainless, he was always sure to take good care of you and express just how much he loved you afterwards – and even during.

it had nearly been a month since you had last had sex, which made charles want to show you just how much he missed every part of you as his hips bucked fiercely against yours. you moaned as he pumped himself deeply into your cunt, your hands coming up to dig your nails into his shoulders. “i fucking love you.” charles grunted, letting his forehead rest against your shoulder as he continued to thrust, his movements rough and sloppy. one of his hands laced around you, holding you up while the other slipped up your thigh, teasing you as he pounded faster into your cunt.

his thumb traced up your thigh, finding your clit before he started to rub circles around it. “so beautiful. so fucking beautiful and you’re all mine.” charles panted his teeth practically biting into your shoulder. “feels so good — you’re so good. ‘m all yours.” you whined, knowing charles liked the praise as your head fell back in pleasure.

charles stretched you open, pounding into you with a mix of lust and love. he let his head snake up to the crook of your shoulder, placing soft and tender kisses on your neck. you knew he was close to his climax when his thrusts grew more sloppy, his thumb working fastly around your clit which made you moan somehow even louder. 

“you close, baby?” charles cooed. he was always such a gentlemen – making sure you finished before he would even think about it. “mhm, fuck yes.” you whined, his thumb running circles on your sensitive clit making you squirm under him. charles groaned in satisfaction, his tongue continuing to work your neck as he nipped and sucked at the skin. 

you loved being close to charles: cuddling him, holding hands. him being in you was the closest you could possibly be and the feeling made you feel so connected and intertwined with him – beyond the warmness of lust. 

“fuck — i’m gonna cum.” charles groaned, sloppily pounding into you. his thumb gliding over you clit made you cum hard, your walls clenching around him which only encouraged him to finish inside you.

the two of you were a panting mess after charles pulled out, his cum coating your thighs as it leaked out. he laughed softly, leaning his sweaty forehead against yours. “i love you. i missed you.” charles hummed, kissing your lips which made you hum satisfiedly.

being the gentlemen he is, charles cleaned you up, taking a small towel to wipe the excrement from your thighs before handing you a glass of water. you thanked him with a small smile, taking a sip which helped your heavy panting calm. “i was thinking we could maybe watch a movie — cuddle up.” charles hummed, zipping up his jeans. you nodded, pulling your panties back up to your waist. “that sounds perfect.” you smiled, your eyes crinkling as you did. 

you stood up from the kitchen table, turning around to lazily smooth out the table cloth before you continued to put the rest of your clothes back on. charles approached you from behind, laughing as he moved you hair away from your neck. “madame, what are these marks on your neck?” he teased, a chuckle escaping his lips as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “sorry, sir — i’m dating a vampire.” you joked, turning around to place a kiss on his lips.

“now what movie were you thinking?” you asked, taking a hold of his hand before you guided him over to the couch. “something scary.” charles responded. “oh, so i can hold you and protect you?” you teased knowing damn well you could handle horror films better than charles. “maybe.” charles smirked, his cheeky expression making you laugh. “well then, if you’re so brave,” you joked, “pick out a film while i go fetch us some snacks.” in response, charles hummed satisfiedly, a small laugh escaping his lips as you walked into the kitchen.

you continued pouring the wine from earlier – the one charles started to pour before rudely interrupting you by eating your pussy on the kitchen counter – before you set the glasses to the side. you knew the two of you didn’t need alcohol, especially before charles’ race the next morning, but it was something to help you unwind before the stress of the monza grand prix. of course, charles would be experiencing more stress, but watching your boyfriend drive a death machine going 330kph made you anxious from the viewing room.

you put microwave popcorn into the microwave – a pack that came with a complimentary ‘thanks for staying with us’ gift – setting the timer for the appropriate time before you grabbed a bowl. “are you done yet?” charles groaned out from the living room, making you laugh. “almost!” you laugh, his impatient tone sounding like that of a toddler. “i miss you!” he whined out, making you huff as the popcorn finished popping.

once it was done, you lightly salted the popcorn like charles liked it, bringing the bowl into the living room. “couldn't wait 5 minutes for me?” you teased, his large frame taking up almost all of the couch. “i haven’t seen you for over a month and you’re making fun of me, ma belle? mama mia, let me be a gentlemen.” charles teased back, opening his arms for you as you set the bowl down on the coffee table. you grumbled jokingly, laying ontop of him before fixing your head on his chest.

you knew the two of you weren’t going to be paying much attention to the movie – the conjuring being the film charles chose – when he looked down at your with his big green eyes. you laughed, burying your head into the crook of his neck once he wrapped his arms around you. “i missed you – i don’t think i could ever say it enough.” charles spoke softly, his large, calloused hands coming up to play with your hair. “i missed you. i thought about you all the time. i’m sorry i’ve been gone – i wish i could have been there for more races.” you spoke emotionally, keeping your sad expression hidden in the crook of his neck. “no, ma belle, shhh.” he cooed, petting your hair gently. “never apologize for having a career for yourself – especially a successful one.” you laughed at his words; charles always knew how to flatter you.

“i do it for you, you know – every race. i am always thinking about you when i’m driving, it’s my motivation.” he spoke, his words making you melt in his arms. “i’m so lucky to love you.” you spoke up, your eyes getting teary with gratefulness. you sat up, straddling charles’ lap so you could look into his eyes. “i love you.” you added at a whisper like your love was a secret – but it was nowhere near a secret – you would shout it from the rooftops if you could. “i love you, so much.” charles matched your soft tone, coming in to place a soft kiss on your lips. 

“you know, when i saw that you were here i just about died of happiness – today is the best day i’ve had in a long time.” his confession almost broke your heart, but you were too emotional to keep it together. “i had to come see you, i just had to. i needed to be here for monza – to cheer my winner on.” you smiled despite your wet eyes, a grin forming on charles’ face that mirrored yours. “see, this is why i love when you’re here, my good luck charm. you keep my motivated.”

you fell asleep on charles’ chest that night before he carried you bridal style to the bedroom, laying you comfily on the bed before tucking you in. despite his best effort, you woke up, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hands. “is it bedtime?” you groaned, sitting up against the bedframe. “yes, mon amour, it’s midnight.” charles laughed, taking his shirt off and slipping himself into some sleep pants. “are you going to get ready for bed?” he hummed, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed. “no–” you murmured tiredly, “can you get me dressed? ‘m too tired.” charles laughed at your exhausted state once more, rolling his eyes playfully. “yes, ma belle.” he hummed, going over to your suitcase to pull out a tshirt and a pair of sleep pants.

once he fetched the items, he walked over to you, kneeling between your legs as he sat the clothes on the bed. “lift your arms up.” he demanded softly, laughing to himself as you tiredly lifted your arms over your head. charles slipped your shirt off, his eyes darting across the small marks that covered your collarbones from earliers feverish moment. you laughed softly as his gaze, rolling your eyes before he slipped the new shirt over your head. “this isn’t a free show.” you murmured, charles now being the one who’s eyes rolled. “just admiring the view.” he teased like a teenage boy on his first date. you laughed, lifting your legs up so he could slowly rid you of your jeans as he slipped on the checkered sleep pants to your legs.

“what would i do without you?” you teased, flopping back onto the bed. charles crawled over you, laying on the side of the bed next to you before he pulled you in to spoon you. your bodies fit perfectly together – like a lost puzzle piece that had finally found its match. “probably die.” charles teased, placing a soft kiss on your neck. 

you laughed in return, holding onto his arms as they wrapped around your waist. “good night, mon amour.” charles hummed softly. you turned around to face him, placing a soft kiss on his lips. “good night, my love.” you murmured.

the next day, charles was gone when you woke up. the race was about to commence in a few hours, so of course – being a driver – he had to be there bright and early. you groaned, the morning sun shining through the windows of the airbnb bedroom making your eyes sting. with a wandering hand, you slapped the night stand next to your, lazily searching for your cellphone. once you found it, you turned it on, your eyes lingering on the lockscreen of you and charles. the photo made you smile. you were right where you belonged: in a bed you shared with your lover the previous night, hours away from hopefully seeing him be the first to see the checkered flag wave. 

you took your time getting ready, dressing yourself in a black dress and pairing it with a ferrari jacket charles had gotten you as a gift – he loved seeing you in his team wear. your brain couldn’t help but slip your thoughts to the direction of your relationship as you got ready. you thought about the highs, the lows, the vacations with just you two, the late nights, the early mornings, the good and the bad. everything seemed to flow perfectly. it felt as if your childhood fantasies came true – 26 years of waiting for your prince charming and now you had finally found him.

the monza grand prix had you on the edge of your seat from start to finish. a pole start turned into charles’ still leading in the early laps, and leading into the early laps lead to a victory. a victory in ferrari’s home country for your prince? now that was a happy tidbit to add to the fairytale. and after all the chaos of the race, charles words reigned true – you were his good luck charm, and more so, the love of his life. 

dedicated to @emchante <3 happy late birthday. ilysm!!! gonna start a tag list, so as of right now, please comment to be added to it x. mmmwahhh

[sweetimpurity]

Older Neighbor Miguel Part 3 NSFW!!

Part 1 Part 2

a/n: w.c. is 2.5k and it's longer than I thought it would be but I'm gagged and obsessed. Hope you like it! Might just tease you guys a little longer <3

The sun shines through the window, golden hues cascading over the blankets, your legs on the bed, the soft pillows warm after bathing in the light. It’s morning. It’s been a few days and you haven’t been able to stop thinking about that dream. It’s ingrained in your mind, the feeling of him, his voice, the look in his eyes. It almost makes the embarrassment of being seen half naked melt away. You’re almost glad it happened. It felt so real, making your thighs squeeze together at the memory. You head downstairs to start the morning, finding your parents at the kitchen table.

“Morning…” You smile softly, greeting them, walking over to the kitchen counter. Glancing out the window, at his yard. His house. Seeing if any of the windows are open, if he’s outside. Just a glimpse of him would get you hot. “Oh, honey…” Your mom starts, walking to the sink and putting her plate down. “I hope you don’t mind but I volunteered you to do some babysitting. Would you be up for it tomorrow, 3 to 8?” She asks kindly. You’ve babysat a lot of kids in the neighborhood since high school and your mom is close to a lot of the parents around. Figuring maybe it’s the Scott family again down the street since they have so many kids; always needing childcare. “Yeah I can do it. I’ll text Lisa and tell her I will.” You nod, taking a sip of orange juice and looking over at the breakfast your dad’s made. “Oh, it’s not the Scott’s, it’s Gabriella next door… O’hara?” She asks and you choke on the juice in your mouth, almost spitting it out. Your dad instantly asks if you’re okay when you suddenly start choking like an idiot. “Yeah- no yeah I’m fine-” You cough over the sink, eyes wide, clearing your throat, your mind spinning, heart thumping. 

“Miguel has a late meeting that day and I offered for you to help him out. And he said he’ll pay.” She says, but you can’t handle this. You wonder how he feels about that. He didn’t outright ask for your help but seems like he didn’t refuse it either. He’ll pay? What the hell is going on? “Uh… yeah. I can do it.” You say, feeling a bit nervous about it but also weirdly excited. To see him. To be near him. Gabriella is also a really sweet girl so you know watching her for a few hours will be a breeze. 

Your parents leave for their respective duties, leaving you at home. And all you can do is think about him. The dream you had. It’s embarrassing now, since he probably just thinks you’re a weirdo who walks around in her underwear. He probably got second hand embarrassment. You should be dreading seeing him again. But you can’t help but crave it. Crave him. 

…

“Shit.” He had muttered after talking to your mom across the fence. When she elected you to babysit his daughter after he mentioned in passing not having anyone to watch her after school tomorrow and his ex is out of town. He should have said no, to spare you both the embarrassment. He almost had a hard time looking your mother in the eye when she said it. Knowing he’d had a dream about fucking you nights before. He shouldn’t be having those kinds of thoughts, although they keep happening. You’re so pretty and young, fresh out of college and he feels like a creep for seeing you in your underwear like that. Even if it was an accident. What will you think? 

He can’t help but feel this tension across the fence. Like there's an electric current from your house to his, even though the two of you haven’t even seen each other since the incident. Maybe he’s imagining it. You’d probably never feel the same way. “What…?” He mutters, looking down at the mail he’s been absentmindedly sorting while he’s thinking all of this over. This isn't his mail. This has your dad’s name written all over it. 

He trudges out of the house, walking across the yard to your house. Checking your mailbox to see if his mail was also accidentally delivered here. A simple mixup, probably a new mail delivery person. When he sees the mailbox empty, he walks up the walkway to your front door. Preparing for your dad’s usual grumbles about the mail always being screwed up and packages being late. Knocking on the door. His eyes widening when your pretty face answers. 

…

“Oh sorry- hi good morning.” He says, a stack of mail in hand and like a deer in headlights. His and your hearts nearly stop. He should’ve known you’d answer the door, but it’s like he’s in a daze. You’ve been thinking about him all day and then he just shows up at the door? He’s a big man. Tall and broad. So seeing that look on his face and hearing his words just spilling out like he can’t stop them. It’s endearing. 

“Hi!” You reply once you find the voice to speak. Swallowing hard and looking up at him. Fuck, he’s hot. He looks like he’s on his way to work. Something smart with science in a tall office building in the middle of the city. White button down tucked into his pants, leather belt and sharp, handsome brown shoes; and the smell of his aftershave mixed with cologne wafts in through the open door. And here you are, in your pajamas, a tank and some little shorts. It’s the middle of summer, but why does this keep having to happen? He shows up all the times you’re barely clothed. This time there’s nowhere to hide. “So I… got your mail by accident. Here you go.” He says, reaching the stack of envelopes across the threshold. His dark eyes scan over your face when you look down. He wonders if you’re wearing those pink panties right now. “Thanks, wow must have just been a mistake then?” You look up and he nods, not even having heard what you said because he was distracted looking at you. Your hair, your bare shoulders and way your breasts sit so perfect and pretty in your tank top. He remembers seeing them spill out of that bra. Beautiful and soft looking. What the hell is wrong with me? I feel like I’m creeping on you.

“I think… you might have my mail too? I didn’t see any in the box.” He says after clearing his throat. Your mom got the mail this morning and she must not have had the chance to look at it very closely. “Yeah, maybe let me go see.”

When you turn away, he has to force himself to stop watching your ass, your hips and the way they sway. Is it obvious that I’m drooling over you?

It’s obvious. And you can’t stop the satisfaction you feel, grabbing that stack of mail off the kitchen counter and knowing you’ve got this big man on a leash right now. This could be fun. You take a deep breath, calming your thumping heart and return. “Here it is!”

He smiles when you return, his hands clasped in front of him because of the thoughts going through his mind right now. He’s a man, not a teenage boy. And yet here you are, you’re this young thing making him feel all horny and hormonal. 

“Thank you... oh and thank you for offering to watch Gabriella tomorrow, I know it’s short notice.” He adds, hoping you’re cool with it. Wondering what’s going on in your head. “No problem, she’s sweet, I’d be happy to help.” You nod, smiling up at him knowingly and it makes him feel a little warm. “Well she’s excited too” He nods. It’s not a lie. Gabi’s always trying to talk to you when she sees you around. She’s seven and loves asking about where you got your shoes, your new dresses and how you do your makeup. She’s a very cute little girl, very polite too. 

He debates bringing up what happened a few days ago. But it seems like things are cool and you’re not totally freaked out. That’s good. 

…

Tomorrow comes, and at three you head over to his house. Walking across the yard and to the door, using the spare key he gave to your parents in case of an emergency. Waiting a bit until Gabi gets home off the bus and making lunch with her. Talking about all the little things her mind comes up with. She thinks it’s cool to talk about girly stuff with a girl that’s older. She just thinks you’re the coolest. She was just waiting for school to end until she could come home and hang out with you. To feel like a big kid. 

It’s funny being in his home. You’ve never really been inside like this since they moved in. But you’ve also been away at college for most of that time too. You catch a glimpse of his bedroom as you walk by, the dark sheets and neatly folded blankets. His shoes at the door. Mostly dress shoes but a few pairs of beat up Nike’s, his shoe size impressive. You can’t resist opening the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, pulling the cap off his cologne and smelling it. The scent is like a drug to your brain. It just smells like a man. Maybe you’re creeping on him a little in return. 

Soon the time is nearly 8pm and you’re helping Gabriella into bed. She really is a sweet girl and you’ve learned so much about her and her life. A lot of things that let you know Miguel is a really good dad. All the memories she’d recall with him, vacations and school projects, along with little things like trips to the park and him taking her to work with him. You studied all the family photos on the wall. Most of them of Miguel and Gabriella, some with what looks to be Miguel’s parents and his brother maybe? There’s one photo with his ex in it. It’s in Gabi’s room next to her bed. She’s a beautiful woman, undeniably. Definitely his same age and you can’t help but wonder about the history. Would you have a chance with someone like Miguel who’s already lived a whole life? He’s got everything worked out already and you haven’t even started yet. 

You don’t even know why you have these thoughts. When did the thought of sleeping with him turn into spending your life with the guy? It could all just be fun. If you do manage to sleep with him, it should just be for fun. Because after listening to his little girl talk about how wonderful he is; looking at the pictures on the wall; even observing the way he sets up his home, the color of the pillows on the couch, the dish rack by the kitchen sink, the settings on the kitchen table. This man’s a man. You’d fall in love with him so quick and easy. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by the front door opening. Gabriella is settled in bed by now and your job here is done. Waiting in the kitchen and giving him time to adjust. Smiling to yourself. 

He stops at the kitchen door after walking in. His work clothes as attractive and sharp as always. His hair slightly less kempt than it probably was this morning. “Hey…how’d it go?” He greets, undoing the buttons at his wrist and rolling his sleeves up a bit, it’s been a long day. He leans against the kitchen doorway with his arms crossed. “Hi. Gabi’s in bed.” You smile, you could suck the soul out of him right now. 

“How was she?” He asks, unable to stop his eyes from roaming your pretty face. Could you be wearing those pink panties right now? Why must he have these thoughts? “She was perfect… She's so sweet. We painted our nails and I helped her with her homework.” 

“Wow… busy day.” He nods, walking across the kitchen, past you to the fridge. His cologne wafting past you. “What do I owe you? What’s your usual rate?” He asks, grabbing sparkling water from the fridge. “Oh it’s fine, you don’t need to pay me. You get the next door discount.” You joke.

“No, I insist. I said I would pay.” He chuckles softly, twisting off the cap and drinking some from the frosted cool bottle; your eyes flicking to his forearms, tanned and toned. “How about… $200?” He offers, and your eyes blow wide. “$200 for five hours? No way… that’s too much” You shake your head, but he pulls out his wallet from his back pocket. That’s like $40 an hour. 

“Here… I have it right here.” He holds out two hundreds from his wallet. The money just appearing. “No I… it’s too much.” You refuse, not taking it. He can’t believe this. He’d spend a thousand dollars on you to get you anything you want. He’d love to do it with the way he’s been thinking about you for days. It’s no issue for him. And here you are refusing. He places it on the kitchen counter between the two of you, sliding it across. Your heart thumps in your chest. Your hand goes out, hovering over the bills before sliding it back to him. “Just pay for my dinner instead.” 

“Dinner…” His heart pounds in his ears. He has to make a choice. If he takes the money back, he agrees to do as you ask. Pay for your dinner. Take you out. He’s hoping that’s what that means. He’d get a chance to get closer to you and know you wanted him too. He could entertain this little thing going on between you two. Or. He could slide the money back and insist you take it. Go home and that will be the end of it. Refusing the chance to have you, to take you. 

He slides the money back towards himself. Scooping it up and putting it back in his wallet. Success you think. You smile to yourself, feeling so satisfied. “We can be in touch?” You say and it’s at this moment he’s wrapped around your finger. “Yeah. Definitely.” 

“I guess I’ll be seeing you.” You say and grab your bag off the kitchen table. Slinging it over your shoulder. “Goodnight, Mr. O’hara.” 

If you hadn’t turned to leave, you’d have seen him blushing all the way to the tips of his ears. Mr. O’hara. Just like his dream. Your sweet voice as he sheathed inside you. This is too much. He hears the front door close, letting out a deep breath and rubbing his forehead. “Hah…” 

He checks on Gabriella who’s sleeping peacefully in her bed. Going to his bedroom and winding down for the night. Unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off along with his tank top underneath. Walking to the bathroom in his boxers to brush his teeth. He stands in front of the sink, in the dim light of the bathroom, only the nightlight illuminating the tile. Opening the medicine cabinet to grab his toothbrush and something falls out. He looks down, flicking on the light when he sees it. A pile of pink and lace on the porcelain. He reaches down without a second thought, your panties dangling off of his fingers. What have I gotten myself into?

taglist: @miguels-cock-piercings @sana-4 @peachey-pie @milkyardbetter @chrissymodi-frost

@pxtched @izakopanyi2 @lazyjellyfish300

@nina-from-317 @bammzyboomy @naomihaha2099 @bruh-anator3000 @buttertubz

[dragonmuse]

Keep It In The Box : An Essay on OFMD Season 2 and the Failure to Heal

(here in is my season two reaction. It contains many many spoilers. It's also about 3k words long so you know what you're getting into.)

“See, I have a system for dealing with all the terrible things I've seen. There's a box in my mind, and I put the things in the box..” -Frenchie, Season 2 of Our Flag Means Death

…..and then he never opens it. Chekov’s locked box has no key in season two.

On first watch, it seemed clear to me that Frenchie’s declaration was a narrative plant. Clearly the whole season would be about that box of pain and trauma being opened, sorted through and at least the beginning of healing. The show had developed a reputation after season one of being kind and focused on queer narratives of healing from childhood. Ed and Stede’s parallels in their childhood traumas were frequently on display through season one and were repeated in flashback throughout season two. Jim’s season one arc about becoming someone who doesn’t think just of revenge and can now forge meaningful connections was profound, beautiful and often funny. Izzy is an antagonist because he doesn’t want Ed to move on or stop acting like the trauma-response version of himself. The antagonist wants to stop healing. The point is to grow, to change, to learn how to love. It’s one of the things that made season one work for me at the time, despite reservations about pacing and tone.

So naturally season two should follow suit. It’s a kind show! About healing and falling in love!

For the first several episodes, the remaining crew on the Revenge go through a gauntlet of trauma, forced to do and receive violence at Ed’s whims as he careens from self-destructive behavior to self-destructive behavior. This is the wounding setup. It was dark, but it seemed like it would have a payoff and at first it did.

Perhaps one of the most beautiful moments of the season comes in one of the small respites in those early episodes as Jim recounts Pinnochio to Fang to soothe him through his grief. That was the show that I expected. The kindness of that moment struck me very deeply. It gave me some understanding of Archie too, who seems to fall for Jim right at that moment.

That scene is the show season one promised. Season two led with packing Frenchie’s box full to bursting. Here is the fight to the death between lovers, there is a first mate who is mutilated and rotting in the very walls (the rot of the Revenge itself), and there is the storm of Ed’s rage and pain that threatens to consume all of them.

So surely these remaining episodes would concentrate on finding the humor in healing from those moments. That is the setup. Frenchie has a box. The box must eventually open.

Except time and again, all the characters who suffered are told that the only way to deal with what they’ve been through is to stick it in the box and never open it again.

Pete tells Lucius that he’s unable to move on and needs to let it go. Izzy has a story about a shark. Ed’s apology to the crew which doesn’t even contain the words ‘I’m sorry’ is just…accepted. I kept waiting and waiting for a meaningful apology to the people Ed had hurt the worst with his actions, but it seems all we get is Fang saying ‘eh, no problem, I got to hit you back so I feel better’.

The playful theme of ‘pirates are just violent sometimes’ from season one becomes a grinding horror machine in season two when every atrocity visited on someone is forgiven because the narrative needs it to be. Ed and Stede spend more time making amends with each other over the bloodless night on the beach than either of them spend trying to repent for their actions towards anyone else.

And let’s talk about Ed. Arguably this season pivots on his narrative, on his path to healing and growth. A path that starts at a very low point. His moment in the gravy basket, deciding he wants to live because there are still things to live for is so great! So one might assume that what would follow would be him pursuing those things, making amends, making connections. He and Stede have a wonderful moment, talking about being whim prone and how they’ll work to avoid that, build a relationship by going slower.

Yet, at no point do either of them stop following whims. They never heal or learn from what’s happened to them. They both keep running from thing to thing, particularly Ed. It’s a whim to sleep with Stede, it’s a whim to run off to fish, and the finale gives us just more of their whims. Ed drops fishing as fast as he picked it up. He finds those leathers in the ocean, murdering the symbolism of leaving them behind. Even the inn is a whim, one of those things Ed decided he’d be good at without evidence. And Stede joins him in that without a single on screen conversation about it ahead of the moment.

Ed needs to heal himself and to do that he needs to confront what he’s done and do the work to heal the wound. Instead, he doesn’t meaningfully apologize to anyone, besides Stede and Fang. Despite Izzy’s dying words (we’ll get to that), not only do we never see the crew caring about Ed, working to make him family in the same way they do with Fang and even Izzy, he also doesn’t choose to stay with them. So what is the point? Where is the healing? Or does even Ed, beloved main character, have to live with it all stuffed in a box?

He ends the season in the leathers he threw away, in a relationship that’s barely stabilized, going to live in a house which we are told by the narrative (in that they are very very clearly paralleling Anne and Mary with Ed and Stede or why do we even get that whole Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? episode) will only end in them setting fire to each other to stay warm.

But Vee, I hear you cry, it’s a ROM-COM. This is all meant to be ha-ha funny and you are taking it so seriously!

Cool beans. Then why the hell isn’t it funny? Healing is often filled with comedy because people deal with pain with humor. You can heal and laugh at the same time. The finale especially is almost entirely devoid of laughs, almost entirely devoid of joy until the last minute for that matter. The episode that should show off with a flourish how far everyone’s come, mostly serves to show that no one has grown.

Okay that’s Ed. I want to talk about Lucius next. Our former audience surrogate (that’s taken away in season two when he doesn’t get enough screen time to perform that role and no one takes his place) really goes through the wringer. He experiences many many terrible things, including sexual assault (which is made into a grimace-laugh line that doesn’t take away from it’s seriousness because oh hey, that can be done as it turns out). He’s nervous, he’s smoking, it’s clear he’s suffering.

There’s a beautiful moment where Pete tells him ‘hey, I was also in pain. I grieved’ and that’s great. It’s good that Pete sets a boundary about Lucius not obsessing over the past to the point of occluding their future.

We even get our comedic moment where Lucius pushes Ed off the boat (still not apology, but I’d lost hope for that by then) and that doesn’t help enough. So Izzy comes in with a shark and the advice that you just have to move on.

Just…you know. Play pretend. Forget.

Shove it in a box. Ed didn’t take my leg, a shark did. Ed didn’t kill you, a shark did. Live with the person that tried to murder you because it’s your fault you dangled your leg over the side of a boat. That is the show’s message. I thought on first watch, that surely this would also come back up and be explained that you can’t live that way, that that is no way to heal. That it would become clear that this was no way through. You cannot make everything into sharks.

Lucius can move forward and still carry pain. He can still want a meaningful apology and still want to talk to his lover about what he’s dealing with while moving forward toward a brighter future.

And what of the flirtatious promise of relationships and connections being the way to heal? Look to Oluwande and Jim, whose heartfelt romance from season one was relegated to the bins of history in favor of a narrative that made him a brother Jim once had sex with. They could have had Archie AND Oluwande, who in turn could also have Zheng, but that never seems to be an option. With a single short conversation, they are broken up with, despite a brief tease at the birthday that they still ‘dance’ together, it never actually manifests. Jim and Archie never talk about what they went through. It’s swept under the rug as fast as knives are lowered.

Lucius also no longer flirts with other people, the solution to his pain is to propose and get married (but not too married, lest we forget that they’re two men, they don’t even get to be husbands or even the more respectful mates, no. They’re mateys.) This season proposes that the only happy endings are monogamous ones, where no one talks about anything painful that went before.

To ensure that message, beyond assuring the success of Oluwande and Zheng’s relationship, Jim and Archie almost entirely disappear from the narrative. Sorry you guys were given layers of trauma and no growth and not even much to do this season, we need to make sure that everyone remembers Oluwande is the break in Zheng’s day so when he says that to her five minutes later we know exactly what he’s referencing. No time for Archie to learn what an apology is or for Jim to get one line in with Oluwande that isn’t affirming their newfound broship. Must do more flashbacks to things we just did two episodes ago!

The show even dangles the conversation of the Revenge being a safe space. Why would any of them ever feel safe when the man who tortured them is allowed to walk among them and they are expected to forgive and forget? What’s safe about that? The ship is never made safe for any of them, but that’s never addressed.

And Zheng! Amazing, hysterically funny Zheng! She loses her ships, her entire way of life, the kingdom she built for herself and then…she doesn’t even get to captain the Revenge. We don’t know what becomes of her fleet, of her plans, her ambitions. Don’t worry about it, she has a romantic partner and isn’t that what every lady wants in the end?

(But Vee, I hear you cry again, there will be a season three! Maybe it will be All About Zheng! To which I say: then why did they present us with the most series finale feeling episode ever? If there’s more, I have no idea where it’s going. BUT VEE: BUTTONS AS SEAGULL ON THE GR- Fine. It’s time.)

Let’s talk about Izzy Hands.

Izzy manages more healing than anyone else this season. He reaches his lowest point, suicidal in the bowels of a ship that’s become a prison (very much in contrast to Ed’s suicidal low). The person he loves most in the world has shredded him physically and emotionally (and if you’re in the camp that thinks Izzy deserves the abuse that Ed gave to him, I would really like you to sit quietly with yourself and ask why you think there is ever anything anyone can do to deserve that treatment). He’s low, he shoots Ed to protect everyone, and then seems to plan to drink himself to death, mourning his losses.

And then another beautiful moment! The crew move past their own pain to help him. They work together for the first time and it’s to give Izzy mobility back. He treasures it. He cries over it. He uses that kindness extended to him to reach a new understanding of Stede and help him succeed, doing the work to make real amends. He sings in drag, he’s vulnerable and beautiful, celebrating the side of himself that he must’ve loathed in the first season. He’s an elder queer man, coming into himself.

He never gets an apology though. (‘Sorry about your leg’ without eye contact is not an apology. There is no responsibility taking, no acknowledgement of the weeks of torture that came with it.) Izzy also never really has an honest conversation with anyone about what it means that the man he loves punished him so severely for the crime of trying to protect the crew (yes, lest we forget, Izzy lost his leg because he was trying to keep Ed from re-traumatizing the crew and himself).

Izzy does all this work, but even he’s not allowed to take it out of the box. It’s a shark, not Ed. Ed is just ‘complicated’ (the language of abuse here is so upsetting and I think not even intentional).

And then he dies. His last act? To apologize to the man who tortured him and shot at him. To have done all this work, to take on all the blame. And then die.

In a rom com.

This show ends in a profoundly unfunny moment of telling the audience: this is the one character that did the work, that made amends, that tried his hardest to accept the parts of himself that he had a hard time embracing and formerly embittered him. He’s fully accepted his queerness and turned it into beautiful music. He’s disabled, and he worked hard to accept that. The man he loves will never love him back, so he worked hard to make Stede able to meet Ed on an even playing field. The Giving Tree gave up its limbs and its trunk, and it’s not even allowed to be a stump to sit on.

Kill the queer elder, who has managed to figure out how to live and in his own way how to heal. Kill him before he manages to teach anyone else how to meaningfully move forward (he almost gets it with Lucius, almost, but it’s meant to be rule of three, you know. Cigarette..shark…and then…and then fuck it, Lucius doesn’t even get to say a word at his funeral).

The message of this season again and again is that there is no healing, just moving forward. Like a shark. Like a bird that never lands.

That is not a kind show.

Season two is not a kind season.

It splinters people up and jams them back together without purpose or reason. It tells everyone who experiences pain that they should shove it in a box and not deal with it. No one who really needs one gets an apology of any sincerity. No one puts in the work to gain forgiveness. (Ed wearing a onesie is not The Work. Ed fixing a door is not The Work. Ed broke people that the show wants us to care about. Ed never does the work of making those amends. He fires off a Notes app apology at best. After all, it’s what he told himself via Hornigold in the gravy basket: you move on or you blow your brains out! Good thing he took his own advice and therefore had to change nothing to get his just rewards.

I would’ve taken just fifteen minutes of Ed trying to actually make amends. It could’ve been hilarious! Imagine awkward Ed trying to dance around what he’s doing with Jim and the two of them having a knife throwing competition about it. Or him and Frenchie attempting to make music together, writing a song about the raids they went on! It’s not just the crew robbed of their healing because of this, it’s Ed himself. He never meaningfully changes or makes amends. How is he any different at the end of the finale then he is standing on the edge of that cliff with Hornigold? He hasn’t moved on, he hasn’t healed. He tried one thing (fishing) that doesn’t fucking work and then he runs right back.

No one leaves this season better than they went into it. They’ve lost an elder queer, they’ve lost their joyous and queer polyamory, they’ve lost a chance for meaningful reconciliation with Ed and Ed lost any chance of looking like he gave shit if they did. Stede grows enough to accept the crew’s beliefs as important and then leaves them behind without a care.

Izzy gets a beautiful speech about piracy being larger than yourself. Ed and Stede, within twenty minutes of that speech, leave piracy. They are incapable of giving themselves to something bigger, apparently. They haven’t learned to be a part of a community. They haven’t healed from their childhood trauma or their fresher wounds. They are still just following their own whims.

Zheng’s life work is in tatters, but it’s fine, she has love. Oluwande and Jim aren’t together, but it's fine because they both have dedicated monogamous partners. Lucius was deeply scarred by what happened, never recovers much of his first season personality, but hey he got-well it’s not married exactly- but you know good enough!

Frenchie, who has a box forever locked in his head, is captain. Because the key to success is to lock it all in a box and never open it. What a message. What a show. Conceal, don’t feel. Smile because it’s a happy ending. Don’t mourn the dead, don’t try to tell people what happened to you (they will literally run away or cry too hard to listen and really you’re just bumming them out), and any meaningful change you make is only rewarded with death.

Frenchie is now a pirate captain with a box in his head full of trauma that’s never been opened, leading a crew with more wounds than scars. Wonder how that could turn out? Wonder how many years before he might want to retire and then happen to run across a gentleman pirate. As if no one learned anything at all.

[propertyofwicked]

SECRETS part 4 - LN

content warnings: fluff, angst, drama (the whole shabang).

ur girl is going back to working full time tomorrow so if we have slow updates blame my place of work. also, im still recovering from the 4am wakeup and lando p3

previous part -> next part

masterlist the playlist

“max pick up the damn phone,” y/n said, taking great strides across the paddock towards the car park. once again, the phone call had gone to voicemail. she clicked his contact details, ringing him again. only this time, it didn’t even ring. the phone went straight to voicemail. and to add to the matter, max’s car had disappeared from the car park.

y/n sat on the empty floor of the empty parking spot her brothers car had been in, opening up her phone to check the time and send a message to max, she probably should’ve waited for the mix of fear and anger to fade, but here she was, tapping aggressively at the screen of her phone.

if you think you can ignore me forever, you’ve got another thing coming

dont think you can jump to conclusions and throw a childlike strop about this.

but of course, the messages stayed on delivered for hours. it was at least 2 hours before lando’s caller id popped up on her phone, still with no word from max.

“hey, where did you go? mum said something about you walking off,” lando asked her the moment she answered the call.

“currently? i’m sat on the floor of the car park. where are you - ill walk over now,” she said bluntly. he stayed on the line until she entered the mclaren unit.

“y/n? what do you mean max has left?” panic rising in his voice as she walked up to him, his hands coming to rest on her waist.

“i mean he’s left. gone. driven off,” she said with a shrug, “he won’t answer my calls, hasn’t read my texts, he’s just gone.”

“he might be at the hotel? we’ll drive over in a bit and see?”

“i don’t think we should do anything, i think we might have done enough damage for one day.”

“y/n your brother has just driven off. you should at least try and check if he’s at the hotel.”

“fine, but i’m going alone.”

“let me try and talk to him first, you never know something might’ve happened with P?” lando said, still stroking her hips softly, desperately trying to think of any reason that his best friend had up and left.

4 unanswered calls later, and lando and y/n found themselves sat on the sofa in his driving room again, her head laying on her lap as he stroked her hair, trying to resolve the anxiety.

“i don’t care what he thinks, y/n. i feel so strongly about you and i think i have for years.”

“i think i have too. but i hate the thought of people disliking me, let alone my own brother.”

“i know, angel. he’ll come around soon, i promise.”

“that man held a grudge against me for years when i accidentally scraped the side of his kart when i was 12,” she said, laughing sadly at the memory of their parents having to sit them down in the living room and make them apologise to each other. the moment was quickly interrupted by her phone ringing, max’s caller id popping up on the screen.

“ma-”

“no. don’t talk to me. you two have lied to my face for years about this. lando promised me he would never even think about you in that way. and you, i don’t know what ive done to you for you to go behind my back and fuck my best friend but it’s not on.”

“max i-” lando tried to reason with him.

“oh, of course he’s there. just waiting for the moment i left to start fucking my sister, didn’t you?”

“it’s not like that, max.”

“no? then what is it like? ‘cos from where im standing it’s pretty clear he’s been waiting years to take advantage of my little sister,” he argued down the phone, venom rolling off his tongue.

“take advantage of me?” she scoffed, moving to sit up and hold the phone next to her mouth, “who the fuck do you think you are to talk to or about me in that way? who gave you the audacity to believe you have any control over who i choose to date? you couldn’t care less about protecting me, you only care about protecting yourself," she said, her voice raising and her finger moving to point as if he were stood in front of her.

“he’s not right for you.”

“that’s your opinion max. if you can’t trust me, or lando for that matter, then why should i bother giving you a moment more to talk down to me?”

lando sat silently next to her, playing with his own fingers. this was not his fight to fight right now. he’d speak to max privately later, right now, he knew y/n needed to stand up for herself, and god was she smashing it.

“why can’t you just listen to me?” max sighed, defeated, “i know what’s good for yo-”

“go fuck yourself,” she said, hanging up the call, and dropping her phone on the floor besides her. lando’s arms move to behind her waist, pulling her back to rest into him on the sofa. the room fell into silence.

“im sorry,” she mumbled.

“don’t be sorry. this is on him, and me. i should’ve told him the truth the first time round. hell, i should’ve told you the truth earlier.”

“i’ve ruined your big day, lan. p2 - you should be celebrating, not arguing with your best friend.”

“im with you - that’s celebration enough,” he said, happy to see her smile for the first time in hours. she moved to lay her head back down on lando’s lap, this time looking up at him. a knock on the door brought the two of them back to reality, and cisca walked in, adam trailing slightly behind.

y/n contemplated moving, jumping away from the boy who was currently running his hands through her hair, but it had only been 4 hours of hiding whatever was going on between the two of them and she was already bored of keeping up the pretence.

“y/n, love, did you find max?” cisca asked, eyes softening at the scene unfolding in front of her. had she secretly wished for this for years? maybe.

“yea, he um, he went home.”

“he’s not happy about this, is he?” adam said, pointing between the two of you, yet even he couldn’t help but smile slightly.

“not happy, fuming, absolutely raging - i guess you could say that,” she replied, laughing slightly to ease any tensions.

“he’ll come around lovely, he can’t stay mad at you. you’re his sister after all.”

“i love that you think so highly of my brother, cisca. he will go to the grave holding this grudge if he can.”

“ill talk to him later ang- y/n,” lando said, correcting himself quickly, not comfortable enough yet to be overly affectionate in front of his parents.

“good luck with that,” y/n joked, patting him on the arm sadly.

later that evening, y/n found herself sat on the floor of lando’s hotel rifling through her bag to find her pyjamas. earlier, her and lando had driven to her hotel room, to find that max had packed his stuff and left as expected. she didn’t want to be alone, and lando didn’t want to leave her alone. her phone began to ring, and she answered it praying it wasn’t max.

“y/n the videos of you are going feral on twitter right now,” her best friend, caitlin, shouted down the phone the moment she picked up.

“stop it - what are people saying?”

“erm, some people think it’s cute?” he friend responded, voice laced in slight worry.

“…and the rest of them think im a slut?” y/n added, but her friend only responded with a hum.

“what’s max said?”

“from what i remember, he drove off leaving me stranded at the track and then rang me to say i was making a mistake, i was a liar and he never wanted to speak to me or lando ever again.”

“taking it well then,” the girl responded, y/n could hear her eyes rolling. at that moment, lando emerged from the bathroom, with just a towel hanging around his waist. any words y/n intended to say got stuck in her throat. he took strides towards her, noticing she was on the phone and pressing a kiss to the top of her head, before moving to his own suitcase to find a change of clothes.

“y/n…are you in lando’s room right now?”

“maybe?” y/n responded in a guilty tone, quieter than she had before, glad lando couldn’t hear the girl on the other side of the phone. however, he seemed to clock on to the question from the small grin on her face.

“girl why did you answer the phone? go spend time with your new controversial boyfriend.”

“he’s not my b- you know what, i’m gonna go.”

“dont do anything i wouldn’t do, stay safe!” her friend added cheerily, laughing as she ended the call. cheery was the furthest emotion from what y/n felt at this moment in time.

once y/n was in her pyjamas, she moved her way back into the room, lando was sat up in bed, his back resting on the headboard, phone in hand. he looked up as she walked in, patting the spot next to him for her to join. her face fell into a look that screamed apprehension.

“y/n nothing bad will happen if you get into this bed and cuddle with me.”

“something bad already happened,” she said, climbing under the duvet next to him nonetheless. his hand reached behind her waist pulling her into his chest, her head coming to rest on him.

“im happy this happened, but im not happy about every thing that’s happening as a result," she told him, her eyes blinking slowly as the exhaustion from todays drama caught up with her.

“i know baby,” he responded, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “get some sleep. we’ll sort this out tomorrow, i promise.”

★ ☆ ✦ ✧ ✩ ✶

tag list: @harrysdimple05 @scopeiguess @hiireadstuff @landosgirlxoxo @natt9598 @phantomxoxo @val-writes @secretgal66 @ririyulife @littlehoneyfreak @leclercdream @mehrmonga @eviethetheatrefreak @thatoneembarrasingmoment @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @formula1mount @lottef1 @rayna-s @5starl1ght @cthgee

[va1entinesg4l]

full of surprises pt.2

☆ pt. 1

pairing: charles leclerc x reader x max verstappen

summary: now that the world knows who the fathers are, what would the public think?

warnings: none except poor translations of french!

“Max! Charles! Is it true that you both are the fathers of y/n’s child?”

“Are you three a throuple?”

“Is Lestappen real then?”

Questions were being asked every single day and both Max and Charles were desperate to answer them. But despite their management being strict with their reputation, they were forced to stay silent.

“Max will be the father of y/n’s child. In public, of course.” that’s what both managers of the boys agreed on. They decided to clear things up with Max being your partner and the father of your child. So in every or any public events which the drivers will be attending, the arm around your waist, is Max’s.

Charles’s heart sank when they told him that. How could he just watch both the love of his life act all happy and in love from afar. He wasn’t just hurt, but betrayed.

The child is Charles’s as much as it’s Max’s. Why should he be kept away from them?

“This isn’t going to work. I’m not doing this.” Charles says sternly, giving you and Max a serious look as he paces around the hotel bedroom. Max crosses his arms with a heavy heart as he watches Charles, he knew what Charles was feeling but who was he to deny that this whole media bullshit was wrong?

You take Charles’s hand as you reassure him, “We just have to deal with this for a few months, mon amour..” Charles shoots you a glare at that and argues, “A few months? I can’t even deal with this for a minute.”

He yanks his hand away from yours as he mutters a ‘fuck’. Then a knock came on the door, Charles’s manager speaking.

“Car is ready, be down in five.”

There was a charity event held by Ferrari and every driver was going. With you being ‘just’ Max’s partner for the cameras, you knew shit might happen tonight.

Max takes your hand as he gives Charles one last glance before heading to the car downstairs with you, Charles following 5 minutes behind as he gets into another car.

You and Max, and Charles both arrive at a different time to avoid any attractions but once you get out of the car, cameras start flashing and questions about your relationship with the boys were once thrown again.

The security leads you both inside the building away from the cameras. The event crowded with people, the Williams drivers chatting along with the Mercedes drivers. Ferrari’s team principal, Fred, talking with Toto.

Max keeps his arm around you as you both try to look for Charles and there he was, alone as he smiles at the people who were greeting him. The smile which was fake and only filled with sadness.

Your heart ached just by watching him being alone, Max couldn’t look at him, it felt like it was his fault, it should’ve been him in Charles’s position.

Charles finally spots you and Max and he looks away, forcing a smile as he engages in conversation with the others to distract himself.

Charles sat at a different table, his expression blank as he holds a new glass of champagne after each empty ones. Speeches went on for hours and Charles just wanted to leave, he couldn’t help but steal glances at you and Max, seeing how close you both are, every touch he gives you, every kiss. In his mind, it felt real. it felt like he wasn’t always the one you and Max loved most.

It was finally Charles’s turn to give a speech after Carlos’s and from the way some of the buttons of his dress shirt was undone, he was drunk.

“Hi.. everyone.” Charles slurs slightly, clearing his throat before continuing. You stare at him from your seat and you felt as if Charles might say something he might just regret.

“I wanted to thank everyone who joined this event tonight. As you all know, Ferrari has been my dream since i was a child and i would’ve never made it this far if it weren’t for my father and Jules.” He stops his sentence, his breath ragged which could be heard through the speakers.

His eyes then land on you and Max, his jaw clenched slightly before speaking again.

“But tonight I wanted to tell everyone something. Three years ago I would’ve given up this career if i hadn’t met y/n, she made something inside of me spark again and it was like a gift from god.”

“Since then i’ve fallen in love with her, but also with someone i’ve never thought of loving.” He shifts his gaze to Max and he swore he saw Max’s eyes soften.

“Max is a wonderful person. Anyone who’s ever seen him as a bad guy for being a winner on track will never understand. J’aime y/n et Max. I love y/n and Max. So yes, the three of us are in love and happy together. The child y/n is carrying is mine as much as it’s Max’s. Which yes, both Max and i are the fathers of y/n’s child.”

A few gasps and murmurs came from the crowd but you could see the other drivers of the grid putting proud smiles on their faces, your heart bursting with happiness at Charles’s confession. Charles gives a drunken smile at the crowd before slurring his words again.

“Et si quelqu'un a un problème avec ça, vous pouvez gentiment vous faire foutre.” And if anyone has a problem with that, you can kindly fuck off.

He stumbles off the stage and Carlos immediately helps him. You run over to him as Max helps him up as well, taking him to the restroom to freshen up.

He was slowly sobering up after Max had forced him to drink four glasses of water and he sits down on the floor, his back slumping against the wall as he chuckles to himself, saying.

“I couldn’t give two fucks about what the media would say but at least now they know the truth.” You and Max look at him but before you both could even say a word, he plays with the ring that was recently worn on his finger.

“Alors maintenant, pouvons-nous en finir avec ça et planifier notre mariage?” So now can we get this over with and plan our wedding?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

im sorry it took WEEKS for me to finish this but my exams are over, thank god. 😭 this really wasn’t the ending i wanted to write since i was suppose to write a part 3 but i couldn’t keep you guys waiting anymore so i wrote the ending and everything in this part. i love you guys for reading & thanks for being patient!!

[guiltyasdave]

no one has to know what we do

chapter 2 • series masterlist

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

summary: Try as you might, Dave and you can’t stay away from each other.

word count: 4.4k

tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, angst, daddy issues (reader’s dad sucks), able-bodied reader, reader has hair that Dave pulls, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, unprotected p in v, fingering, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, spanking, sooooo many pussy slaps (don’t look at us), pet names, let me know if anything is missing!

a/n: co-written with my love @joelscurls, who unfortunately couldn’t write this entire chapter the way we had originally planned, so you’re stuck with me again. if you notice that some parts are better written than others, those are most likely hers haha <3 this is lowkey my favorite thing that i’ve ever put out, and i hope you like it as much as i do 🤍

follow @joelscurlsupdates and @guiltyasdavenotifs for updates and find jess’s masterlist here and my masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

The phone feels like a paperweight in your hand. It’s late — you should be sleeping, but you know it’s useless to even attempt shutting your eyes. It’s too loud in your head right now — that promise of just one time blaring: a warning. Still, you can’t help but consider ignoring it, texting David and begging to see him again.

It’s probably a bit pathetic, yearning for a man who made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you beyond a one night stand. Daydreaming about the timbre of his voice, the stretch of his cock. Getting his phone number from your father, who’s none the wiser. Your father, who is asleep in his own room just down the hall. Being home for the summer has never felt like such a burden.

Guilt eats at you as your fingers hover over the screen, David’s contact front and center. It would be so easy to send him a text right now, let him know you’re thinking about him. About the other night. But your conscience reins you in. Your father’s face flashes behind your eyes — rage and disappointment painting his features scarlet, and you drop the phone beside you on the mattress with a huff.

It’s difficult to even imagine the inevitable severity of his reaction if he ever found out. He’d probably cut you off, the revelation of you whoring around with his friend — and the possibility of this news getting out, tarnishing your family’s pure reputation — more than enough for him to disown you.

You hate him sometimes. Hate the life he’s forced onto you. You’re not even interested in studying law — not really. You never had a choice, though. It was determined before you even graduated high school that you’d follow in your dad’s footsteps. And as long as he’s funding your studies, your future, you have no right to complain. This is the life you should want. The life everyone wants. He reminds you of that fact regularly. Him, and his countless snooty club buddies.

But David — David is refreshing.

He doesn’t come from old money. He doesn’t pinch your cheeks and talk around you rather than to you, declarations of you must be so proud aimed at your father as you stand awkwardly to the side. You’re pretty sure he’s the first person outside of your professors to really look at you, take interest in anything you have to say in… god knows how long.

You can still feel his eyes boring into you. The subtle but tactful brush of his leg against yours under the table. The exhilaration that had thrummed in your veins. He’d made you feel something. You’d almost forgotten you could feel anything apart from stress and agitation. And as you lay in bed, mind swimming with arousal and impending remorse, you fear you may not be able to control yourself much longer, consequences be damned.

He’s not expecting you to reach out.

Why would you? You’d mutually agreed on that night in his car being a one time thing — just a hookup; something he would’ve done before meeting Carol. Something he should probably be doing more often now. Except you’ve somehow sunk your teeth in him, injected him with a sort of venom.

Because all he can think about is seeing you again.

It’s wrong — beyond wrong. You’re so young; still in college, for christ sake. He never met you before the other night, but he’d been stationed overseas with your father when your mother was pregnant with you. He still remembers reading the letters she’d sent in care packages over his shoulder, the ones detailing her symptoms, what foods she was craving.

Strawberries. She always wanted strawberries. Maybe that’s why you’re so sweet.

He’s never been with a woman like you; never had someone trust him with so much vigor. Your needy little pleas, your vehement obedience, your desperation to take all of him in the driver’s seat of his car — you are nothing short of intoxicating.

Still, he tells himself you’re off limits. Trudges through the days that follow with the thought of you bouncing in his lap fogging his head. Struggles to focus at work and recovers in an increasingly poor manner when called on in meetings.

And then, late on a Friday night, you text him.

He only knows it’s you because you tell him so — your full name flashing across the screen followed by an apology for messaging him so late. You say you’re out with friends, and he’d probably have guessed anyway by the typos littering your sentences.

Seconds after the first, another text comes through:

[1:23am] csnt stop thinking about u. pls see me again i promise i won’t twll anyone

Fuck. Fuck.

His muscles tense; his cock twitches in his boxers. And before he does something stupid, like responds, he sets the phone face down on his bedside table. Stalks off to the bathroom with the intention of taking an icy-cold shower, detoxing himself best he can.

He hasn’t even closed the door yet when he hears it ring.

The rhythmic jingle drones through his studio apartment, and he all but leaps at the noise. Sure enough, it's you, calling him drunk in the middle of the night.

His head swims. He presses ‘answer’ anyway.

“David?” Your voice sounds so sugary-sweet, cloying with innocence. He can hear people in the background, maybe your friends, talking about getting another round of drinks.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asks first. You tell him yes; say you're waiting on a rideshare.

He exhales. And even though hearing you is making him dizzy with a fucked up sort of desire, echoes of your pleasured sounds ringing in his ears, he manages to maintain composure when you say, “can I please come over?”

“Don't think that's the best idea,” he mutters. The lack of conviction in his words would likely be painfully obvious if you weren't intoxicated. But you are, and you whine through the receiver at his rejection.

Dave fights to ignore the increasing stiffness in his boxers.

“Please,” you beg. Fuck, he loves the way you sound when you beg. “I just got off the phone with my dad…he doesn't want me coming home so drunk; said he's working on a case and I’ll be a nuisance.”

His heart breaks for you. For the girl who just wants a father who loves her, who sees her as a person with feelings. Dave can't imagine ever treating his daughters this way. Would never dream of it.

“C-can I?” your voice sounds through the speaker again — softer, less sure. Like you've prepared yourself already for the blow of him rejecting you too.

“Can't– can’t you stay with one of your friends?”

You sigh, defeated. “I want to stay with you.”

It’s not that he doesn’t want to. God, it would be so easy to say yes. To go and pick you up from the bar himself, bring you back to his place. Help you sober up a bit and fuck you until you can't take it anymore. But he can’t; he shouldn't even be speaking to you right now. He needs to cut this off. Needs to make it clear to you that you can't reach out to him again.

“You– we can’t.” He’s stern, direct. It pains him. “The other night shouldn’t have happened.” True, though he doesn’t regret it. Not one bit.

You’re quiet on the other end of the line for a second too long. When you finally do speak again, your voice breaks.

“You don’t like me?”

He’s going to tell you that of course that’s not it, that he’s been thinking about you constantly, that he wishes he could get you out of his fucking head. But he doesn’t get the chance. Because your friends are laughing boisterously around you, then, sounds growing more and more muffled through the speaker, and you’re telling him rather unceremoniously that you have to go.

The call disconnects with a beep.

You wake the following morning with a dizzying headache, daylight burning a hole between your eyes. With your friend still soundly asleep, you slip out of her room and then her apartment; find yourself home just as your father is getting ready to leave for work.

His travel mug sits on the entrance table as he pulls his shoes on, and you're immediately met with the smells of coffee and his leathery cologne.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” he mutters as he grabs his briefcase. You don't dare look him in the eyes, lest you be met with their disapproving stare.

“Hi,” you reply, small and non confrontational. When he doesn't answer, you continue past him, begin your ascent up the stairs toward your room.

“Not very appropriate for a young professional, going out and getting wasted. Your future employer could've been there. Could've seen you acting like an imbecile.”

Annoyance furls behind your temples; makes the pounding in your head grow tenfold.

“Well then they probably won't be my future employer,” you snip.

“Probably not.”

You hear the front door close behind you and, with an agitated sigh, drag your feet the rest of the way up the stairs. You fall onto the covers of your bed, well aware that you should probably shower, but your body feels too heavy, in no way ready to move again just yet.

When you pull out your phone, ready for some mindless scrolling to numb your thoughts for a while, you’re met with a notification that sends your heart racing.

Have fun last night?

From David, sent five minutes ago.

You hastily scroll up, reading your own texts from last night, full of typos and barely coherent. csnt stop thinking about u. Your head falls back with a groan. You had gone out to forget about him, not to drunkenly confess your feelings to him in the middle of the night.

Now that you’re thinking about it, you also vaguely recall speaking to him. You tap on your call log and sure enough, there’s his name, only minutes after you texted him. You have no idea what you might have said to him, only a blurry memory of being upset about something. Great, this is great.

Sighing deeply, you go back to messages.

i was very drunk. sorry for bothering you

His reply comes almost instantly.

Who said you bothered me?

You’ve only met him once, and yet you can picture his smirk as if you’ve seen it a thousand times.

Dave is sipping his coffee, black, no sugar, and listens to Jim going over his plans for the both of them going golfing next weekend, humming occasionally.

It pains him, looking at the man in front of him, while your voice from last night is still ringing through his head. How hurt you sounded, looking for a place to stay, not being welcome in your own home.

When Jim stands up to leave for work, he remains seated, gesturing towards his half eaten bagel, but assuring the other man that he doesn’t have to wait for him.

You still haven’t left his thoughts. If anything, the longing he feels for you has gotten worse since you told him how much you want to see him again. And he’s so tired of denying himself the one thing he really wants.

He’s patient, chipping away at the bagel until he sees your father’s gray Dodge peel out of the parking lot. And then he gives it another 10 minutes, just to be safe.

Come join me for coffee? I’m downtown at Roasted Beans.

You respond moments later — such an obedient little thing, you are — letting him know you’ll be there shortly. He finishes off his drink, discards the cup along with the bagel wrapper, and orders two fresh coffees.

He sees you before you see him. Eyes wide, lips parted ever so slightly, you look so cute as you scan the cafe. You’re wearing a sundress, the blue fabric dancing around your thighs with every turn of your body, and Dave finds himself entranced by you.

You smile when you finally catch sight of him, your entire face lighting up and he smiles back without a second thought.

You shouldn’t meet him again. You really, really shouldn’t. But the conversation with your father this morning keeps replaying in your head, the disapproval weighing heavy on you, the feeling of being unable to do anything right.

You long for someone to look at you without judgment, for the sound of good girl against your skin. You long for David.

After last night and the fact that he obviously didn’t invite you over, you had thought that for him, maybe it really had been a just one time thing. Like you both had agreed on multiple times.

But then he’d texted you again, asking you to meet him. It’s almost embarrassing, how quickly you got ready, eager to see him again, despite knowing better.

On the drive over, you run through countless discussions in your head, trying to decide what you’re going to say to him. You have to be reasonable. There’s too much at stake. David is a mistake that you wouldn’t be able to come back from. You’re just going to meet him because he asked you to, because that’s the nice thing to do. It’ll just be coffee, nothing more.

Your resolve crumbles as soon as you see him. His eyes are already on you, their expression so full of want that it makes you ache. You walk over, feigning confidence as you slide onto the chair next to his, a quiet greeting on your lips. The deep, smooth sound of his voice when he returns it is enough to make you melt.

He has already ordered for you. It’s a small thing, rationally, but it’s once again more care, more attention than you’re used to. Warmth is spreading through your chest, but you try steeling yourself, forcing out the words that you’ve prepared to say.

“Listen, I want to apologize about last night. I shouldn’t have– I wasn’t thinking straight, I’m sorry for bothering–”

“Hey, sweetheart.” He interrupts your nervous stuttering, his hand gently wrapping around yours on the table. “I already told you that you didn’t bother me. If anything–” He sighs, his grip tightening. “I’m the one who’s sorry, you were looking for somewhere to stay, I shouldn’t have turned you down like that.”

It breaks Dave’s heart, seeing how you’re making yourself smaller, how ready you seem for him to scold you. Your quiet You don’t like me? still echoes in his mind. How your own father didn’t care where his daughter spent the night, as long as she didn’t come home. Didn’t bother him.

He clocked the way your eyes widened in surprise at the coffee that he got you, how you huff a relieved breath when he assures you again that he’s not annoyed with you. You’re so sweet, so deserving of being loved and cared for, and he so desperately wants to be the person who does that for you.

He felt the same pull from that night towards you as soon as he laid eyes on you again, and it’s only gotten worse, now that you’re right next to him, now that he’s touching the soft surface of your hand. He vividly remembers how your skin felt under his fingertips, how you writhed against him.

The urge to get just a taste of that again becomes overwhelming. He holds your gaze as his fingers start gliding over your thighs under the table, inching towards the hem of your dress. Your lips part, the softest whimper escaping your throat at his touch.

He shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t be touching you like this, shouldn’t be thinking about you like this. Can’t stop thinking about you. I want to stay with you. How is he supposed to keep away, to stop himself, when you come to him so willingly, so desperate to be wanted?

“David?” Fuck, he loves that you call him that. “Will you take me home with you? Please?”

He can tell that you’re scared to ask, bracing yourself to be rejected again. He’s not nearly as strong as you think he is.

“Yes. Come on.”

He pulls you to your feet and out of the door before either of you have the chance to change your minds.

He’s a bad man, shouldn’t be getting off on having total control over you like this. He’s probably sick; should see that shrink Carol recommended a couple months ago after the divorce was officially finalized. But the way you’re looking at him — with the same big-eyed, doleful stare you’d given him that first night — tells him you want this. Need this, even. You long to relinquish control to someone other than your hawkish father.

So pliant in his lap, limbs all gooey and relaxed under his touch, it’s clear that you trust him. Maybe more than he trusts himself.

You’re spread out on his couch, clothes hastily discarded as soon as the both of you stumbled over the threshold, already entangled in each other. He’s led you to the living room, the thought of fucking you in his bed, of your presence lingering there, your scent permeating his sheets, the last invisible line that he’s determined not to cross.

He has been toying with your body, collected your wrists in a hold over your head and told you to keep them there while he flicked and tugged on your nipples, sucked marks into your skin while you writhed underneath him.

He’s taking it slow, now that you’re here with him, now that he has the time to thoroughly break you down and put you back together again.

You’re already soaked when he sinks a finger into you, your tight walls clenching around him immediately. You coo up at him — a needy little noise that has his resolve disintegrating in seconds flat — and you look relieved when his hand loosely wraps around your throat.

“Please,” you whisper then, and he tuts.

“You want me to take care of you?”

You nod.

“Then you take what I give you. No begging. Do I make myself clear?”

Another noise — this one smaller, stuck in your throat — and he’s pulling his finger out of you again, lips curling into a cruel smile.

He doesn’t give you any time to prepare before the first slap lands on your already-throbbing clit. You can’t help but shriek. In response, he tightens the grip on your throat slightly. Gives three more stinging smacks in quick succession. Dave almost doesn’t notice when your eyes begin to roll back. He does notice, however, when your hips begin to roll upward, your body chasing his hand.

“Oh, such a good girl you are,” he praises.

Slap.

“You love this, don’t you?”

“Mhm,” you moan, garbled and a little breathless.

Slap.

“Pathetic little girl. Bet you could come just from this, you’re so desperate. Couldn’t you?”

You gasp.

Slap.

“Answer me,” Dave demands. “Or I’ll stop.”

It’s almost comical how quickly you sputter the word yes, eyes desperately pleading with him to keep going. And he’s almost shocked just how badly you needed this. In this moment, any guilt he’d been feeling is replaced with the desperate desire to give you exactly what you crave.

He slaps you again, a little harder this time, and you wail. Your legs are trembling, but you make no move to close them, keeping yourself spread wide open and accessible for him.

He’s throbbing, fighting the urge to sink his cock into your tight heat, but he wants, needs to know how far he can push you. How far you’ll go for him.

You’re dripping onto his cushions and he collects some of your slick with his fingers, rubs them against your clit. Your skin is burning under his fingertips. He teases the oversensitive nub with gentle touches, relishes in the way your eyes are glued to his face, the way your lips are trembling as you’re silently pleading with him.

No words are escaping you, and you’re so good, making him so proud with how you’re following his commands.

He slaps your clit again, and again, and again, until you’re a babbling mess, your throat constricting against his grip and your back arching as you come with a cry. Wetness floods out of you and you’re shuddering in his hold, broken whimpers of his name falling from your lips.

He watches with sick fascination, almost unable to believe that he drove you to this point. How much you enjoy being treated like this. That you’re just as twisted as he is.

When you come down, your arms weakly reach for him and he scoops you up, pulls you into his lap until your face is nuzzled into his neck.

“Good girl,” he coos, gently stroking your hair, “you did so good.”

He gives you a few moments to rest, tracing shapes across your back, until his fingers dip deeper, gliding over your ass and between your spread legs, where you’re still so fucking wet.

You squirm under his touch, needy little sounds traveling up to his ears once more. “Please,” you whisper.

One hand grabs into your hair, pulling your head back until he can see your face. You look wrecked. Pupils blown wide, your eyes wet with tears, but what really gets him is the way you look at him. He had worried, for a second, that he might have been too rough, but there’s only pure trust and longing in your eyes.

“I thought I told you no begging.”

You bite your lip, furrow your brow in that adorable way of yours. “I’m sorry. It just– it all feels so good.”

He presses his thumb down on your bottom lip, releasing it from your teeth.

“I know it does, sweetheart. You need more?”

You nod quietly, your eyes wide and pleading.

“Alright then.” He turns you over so quickly that you gasp, scrambling for a second to get your bearings. You’re on all fours, your legs still spread, your ass on display for him.

He had wanted to prepare you a little more, to give you several of his fingers first before he stretches you out on his cock, but he can’t possibly hold back any longer. Judging from the loud moan that you let out, he thinks that you like the sting of him sinking into you unprepared.

It’s even better than he remembers, your slick walls engulfing him so tightly. He starts pounding into you, the depth of his thrusts jolting your body forward and forcing more sounds from you.

He wants you to still feel him tomorrow, wants you to remember him, wants to stake a claim that he knows he doesn’t have. He groans your name, his fingers digging into your hips, greedy for every part of you that he can reach.

Perfect, you’re so fucking perfect, giving yourself to him like this.

“Come on,” he growls, reaching down to find your clit again, rubbing in tight circles. “Give me another one.”

You cry out, pushing back against him. So fucking eager. He lands two quick slaps on your ass and you fall apart, trembling wildly as your walls pulse around him and you scream out his name.

He can’t hold himself back any more and follows you over the edge, pumping into you once more and holding your hips pressed against his.

You both collapse down onto his couch, a mess of tangled, sweaty limbs and quick breaths. You curl your body into his and he presses kisses against your cheeks, your temples, your lips.

Slowly, as he’s coming back to his senses, the guilt settles in.

He lets go of you much too quickly, stands up and starts getting dressed quietly. You watch him for a moment, wracking your mind for something to say, before he looks at you.

“Get dressed. I’ll drive you home.”

He sounds cold, distant. So different from the man who just took you to heights that you didn’t know existed until now. You suppress a shiver and get up hastily. Suddenly, being naked around him feels much too exposed, too vulnerable for your liking.

You pull your dress over your head and slide your shoes back on, but one crucial item is missing.

“Did– did you see my underwear?” you force yourself to ask. He shakes his head, not gracing you with a verbal answer.

Eventually, you give up the search and follow him down the stairs and into his car. The silence grows, until its weight is pressing down, almost suffocating you. You steal glances at him, but his eyes are fixed on the road, staring straight ahead, never wavering. A muscle in his jaw is ticking.

The mix of his spend and yours is pooling between your legs, but it makes you feel dirty now. You force down the lump that’s building in your throat.

When he stops in front of your house, you scramble out of the car without a word. You don’t know what would be worse, if he said goodbye like nothing was wrong or if he remained silent. You don’t want to find out.

It’s late in the evening, you’re lying on your bed, eyelids squeezed shut, willing sleep to finally overtake you. Thoughts keep spiraling through your head, so many questions that you have no answers to.

He asked you to meet up, for fuck’s sake. You don’t understand why he’s treating you like this, but you’re determined to not let it happen again. Just two times, you think with a bitter scoff.

Your phone vibrates on your bedside table, indicating a new message.

[11:55pm] I can’t stop thinking about you either.

Attached is a photo. A photo of a familiar lacy scrap of fabric, grasped in his hand and covered in milky white cum.

It’s filthy, and wrong, and you feel yourself getting obscenely wet at the thought of him touching himself with your missing panties clutched between his fingers.

Maybe just one more time.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!

[the-thing-withfeathers]

for the better

a/n: this is part 2 to know your worth. i’m sorry this took a bit of time but i just wanted to get some requests done before fully getting into this buttt i hope y’all like it.

read part 1!

this one is for @dandelions4us specifically 🫵🏼🫵🏼

pairing: billie eilish x reader

warning: bold-italics are flashbacks. ex-toxic relationship, mention of therapy, toxic coping mechanisms, trauma.

summary: billie tumbles while you thrive. can you manage to find each other again through this all?

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

tick, tock. tick, tock. tick, tock.

the dreadful noise of the second hand going on a full rotation was filling billie’s ears. she was overwhelmed and she didn’t want to be here.

“you mentioned last time that you had a partner…” the woman sat on a leather chair started. she was older and was graying, she wore glasses that were too small for her face. “a partner that you had let down.”

“yeah… i really fucked up there.” billie chuckled dryly. “i was horrible during the end of that relationship. it was amazing at first but after touring, i… i became horrible.”

“why do you think you became horrible?” the woman asked.

billie didn’t want to start therapy but her brother had convinced her to do it. she hated talking things out with a total stranger. but she knew she had to take a step towards getting better one way or another.

“i… i don’t know.” billie sighed in defeat.

“do you think it had something to do with your job?” the woman asked again. this was getting ridiculous. billie felt like the woman knew all the answers but was just trying to get billie to say them, she felt like she was back in school.

“maybe?” billie asked herself. “i think when i got back from touring, i realised how serious things were getting— not just with my relationship but with everything around me. i think i just wanted to be less serious? but i didn’t go about it very well. i royally fucked up. i should have been honest— i think things would have gone so much better.”

“it seems like you have a pretty good idea about what you need to work on.” the woman pointed out, impressed. “it was a lot better than our past sessions where you were lost. it seems like you’re starting to get a better grip on yourself.” she nodded in approval.

“i dunno, i think the break i took from working has been really good to me.” billie smiled a bit, she had decided to stop making music for the time being. it wasn’t forever but it was just to give her time to recover.

“do you want to get back together?” the therapist asked, tilting her head.

“yes. more than anything.” billie nodded. “i miss the love that i used to come home to everyday.”

“you could always call.” the therapist suggested.

“i don’t think i’d get an answer.” she huffed.

“you never know if you don’t try.”

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

that’s how billie ended up at a cafe with her leg shaking under the table, waiting for you.

she hasn’t seen you in months. she heard about you from her friends, she tried not to ask but sometimes it would slip out. your friends reluctantly answered out of pity.

you walked into the cafe. her jaw nearly dropped at the sight of you. a smile tugged at her lips. you had cut your hair and your fashion sense had changed, you cleaned up well.

your eyes scanned the room for billie, a small smile forming when you saw her. she looked almost the same, except she dyed her hair.

you were hesitant to come today, but you had done enough self-growth that you were confident enough to face her again.

you made a beeline for her table, sitting down across from her.

billie thought she knew what to say but she was mesmerised by you. you looked good and healthy, and even more beautiful than she anticipated. she wasn’t prepared to have her breath taken away by you.

“hey.” you said, settling down and flashing a smile at her.

“hi.” she responded, clearing her throat.

“um… hey.” you chuckled, raising your eyebrows. “it’s good to see you.”

“yeah, you look good.” she said as the waiter brought her order over. you ordered something for yourself as well while she was there.

the way your eyes twinkled when talking to someone else, that was never there before. you were always more introverted but suddenly it was like you had all the confidence in the world.

she fell in love with you all over again.

you turned back to look at her after ordering, crossing your legs one over the other. you smiled at the look on her face.

“you look surprised.” you pointed out.

“i mean… a little? you’ve changed… in a good way.” she said, sipping at her coffee. “you seem… um… more—“

“out there?” you completed her thought. “well, yes. i kind of put myself to the test. i finally used my savings to travel over the past few months. i kind of had to fend for myself— that involved putting myself out there.” you explained what you had been up to. “all those work hours finally did me good.”

“that’s… that’s really nice.” she said, staring at her coffee on the table. “where did you go?”

“german, greece, rome—“

“rome? you’ve always wanted to go.”

“mmhm. and i finally did. and i finished up my trip in london. i saw some of our friends that we made when i visited you on tour.” you said, scooting over to make room for the waitress putting your order down.

“that’s good, i know they would have been glad to see you.”

you let silence fall over the table for a second as you took a bite of the biscuit at the side of your plate.

“why’d you call?” you asked, cutting to the chase. you thought that there was no point in the small talk when there was clearly something looming over billie.

“oh!” she didn’t expect you to ask so quickly.

“sorry, it just seems like there’s something you’re wanting to say.”

“yeah… i’m uh, i’m in therapy.” she said, leaning back in her seat. “and i just… we’ve been working on how i can explain myself to you. i feel like you deserve that.”

“i would be lying if i said i wasn’t curious, billie. about our relationship ending…” you said, sighing. “feels like i never got closure.”

“that’s fair! and i guess that’s what i wanted to give you.” she said. “i don’t know why i did what i did exactly, because i could have handled it so much better.”

you nodded in anticipation.

“i felt old.” billie sighed out.

you almost let out a laugh but instead let out a stifled chuckle.

“old?”

“old… yeah, it sounds so silly.”

“billie, you’re not even 25.” you scoffed a little bit in disbelief.

“i know! which is why it’s silly.” she said, a little bit defeated. “it was all too much for me when tour ended. i realised how much i had missed with everyone back home. everyone was going to parties and i was stuck working in the studio all the time. i think our relationship took the brunt of it, it was all getting so serious so i took it out on you.”

you furrowed your eyebrows. “serious?”

“yeah… i used to think our relationship getting more serious and committed meant i had to settle down and grow up. i wasn’t ready for that. but i realised i was wrong. our relationship was my safe place to land, coming home to you was the best part of my day.”

“i didn’t realise you felt that way. i wish you told me.” you huffed a little, crossing your arms. “i would have helped you… whatever it took.”

“i know, and that’s why i regret it so much.”

“i kept replaying that fight in my head when it was all so fresh… i just felt like i was fighting with a stranger.” you felt your heart ache upon reliving those memories. “i had some hope that maybe you’d come to your senses that day, that maybe me saying something would be enough for you.”

“i’m sorry that i didn’t. i was so stupid—“

“the worst part is that i never fell out of love with you for a second.” you confessed.

“what?” she asked, making sure she heard you right.

“i tried. i tried to hate you… believe me, i did. but i couldn’t.” you shook your head, finishing your coffee off.

“could we ever try again?” billie popped the question. she didn’t know what answer to expect from you. sure, you still loved her, but could you put yourself in that position again?

“i don’t know.” you said, truthfully. “it’s taking everything in me not to say yes, but i don’t know if i can do that to myself again. i think i’ve come too far.”

“then let me catch up to you.”

there she was. your billie.

you couldn’t hold back a laugh when you heard her say that.

“oh, billie. it’s good to have you back. it’s for the better.” you sighed through the smile that was plastered on your face. “well, how about this then?”

you took her phone that was sitting down on the table. she had reached out through a mutual friend but you didn’t have any other contact information.

“i’ll give you my number.”

thump. thump. thump

billie could hear her own heartbeat in her ears.

“i’ll give you my number.” you said. billie had just met you that night but she was captivated by you.

you had gotten a job working tech at her release party. she saw you backstage and couldn’t take her eyes off you for a second. the way you tried to make sure that everything was perfect for her.

you were a face in the background and yet you were at the forefront of her mind the entire night.

“and you can call me and tell me where to be.”

“and you can call me and tell me where to be.” you giggled, teasing her a little bit. you found it amusing that one of the biggest figures in the world was chasing after you after the show.

she was panting a little bit, she definitely ran after you. her hands were on her knees for just a second while she introduced herself, trying to catch her breath.

you were on your way to your car, your bag already on your shoulder. she couldn’t let you leave without shooting her shot.

you handed her phone back to her.

you handed her phone back to her. she took it back in her hand and immediately pressed dial, you were still in front of her.

she pressed dial.

you rolled your eyes and picked up the phone, holding it up to your ear.

“tomorrow. dinner… at my place?” she said with a cheeky smile on her face.

“tomorrow. dinner… at my place?”

“sure. i’ll be there.”

“sure. i’ll be there.”

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

a/n: heyyy y’all i hope the switching between flashbacks & current time wasn’t too confusing. but i hope u enjoyed part 2 <33 much love mwah mwah

[11cupids-tarot11]

A Letter From Your Future Spouse

➽───────────────❥

1 -> 4

Cupid's Services Cupid's Master List Socials

Tips appreciated!

C@sh app and P@ypal only!

$minnieplant3

@janellec03

LOVE U

- Cupid 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.

︻デ═一 ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Pile 1- Four of Wands, The Fool, Page of Swords, Nine of Cups, Page of Wands, The Wheel of Fortune.

"Hi you! I've been sleeping a lot, can't seem to do anything else lately because of how tired I've been. Finally. I can sleep as much as I want to now because of a situation that just so happened to end recently. Death.

What now? See, I've been wondering the same thing. But let's not even worry about it, let's just sleep as much as we want to because we finally can, even if it's only a little nap time out of your day do it because I gotta see you one last time later, I've got a message for you in your dreams. Spirit will tell you, don't worry about missing it or when <3

Resting so much so when I do have to work, you know, find that balance again between work and fun, I can focus on what's so important to me a lot better, I mean really give it my all... You know? Lol

Sorry, I dream a lot, you might notice my head is always in the clouds. I have very air energy like a Gemini.

Things are finally clearing up for me! I feel at peace, maybe we mirror each other and things are also getting better for you too? You have to let me know, okay? I feel like I can finally breathe again, be optimistic without being scared the rug is going to get snatched from underneath.

I've been working so so hard on my craft, putting in so much love and effort into my work and I feel really hopeful that all of my productivity will pay off soon, consistency is key, right?

I really like the color yellow, 😄 talk again soon!"

Hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to do the poll below 👇🏾 ✨

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Pile 2- Knight of Wands, I forgot to write down the rest of the cards I'm so sorry 😞

"I have no problem with putting in hard work for anything I want, even you, you know? If you don't want me the moment we catch eyes I'll make you ;)

The moment I catch you I'm going to make sure I never stop loving you, I'll make sure every day is beautiful, even on our bad days we'll kiss each other good night before bed still. I love you!

Why do you keep worrying yourself? All of that doubt in that pretty little head of yours isn't good, you should lay it all to rest before you make yourself sick baby. Sleep more, practice some self care before you run yourself crazy, okay?

I'm so proud of you, you know, for whatever amazing things you've accomplished lately. I believe in you, I'll always be your #1 cheerleader!

You should go out and celebrate! Enjoy the sun, you deserve it my angel! Promise me you won't let this go by like it's just not that big and you'll go out and do something? Pinky promise?

Stay focused! You're on the right path, you're doing amazing! I promise you, all of this will be worth it, it's worth our future 💓 keep going, I know you can do it! 🎉"

Hope you enjoy!!☺️ Don't forget to do the poll below!!

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Pile 3- Queen of Cups, Justice, Four of Cups, The Moon, Three of Swords, The Star.

" Hi my love, you know I don't talk a lot haha, so I'll make this quick as usual and get out of your hair so you can go on.

I just want to remind you, you're my queen, my favorite, my whole world ❤️ I think red looks really pretty on you btw but anyway, I love and miss you like crazy at times like these.

I am going through something right now, a legal situation, a situation I wish would come to an end right now because it's so heavy on me, it's hurting me but I know at the same time it's happening to me because it's part of my karma, something that's forcing me to look so closely at myself, at every shadow because I think it leads me to you. My everything. We're going to get married, I'm so sure of it.

I'm keeping hope alive, I'm hanging on to every thread of it I've got. I'm working on everything right now, I'll catch up with you soon sweetheart 💋 I'm going to kiss you when I do, you won't be able to get rid of me. ;) "

Hope you enjoy! Don't forget to do the poll below!!

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Pile 4- Ace of Cups, The Hanged Man, King of Wands, Nine of Cups, Knight of Cups, Nine of Wands.

"I want to come to you with amazing news but I can't, I'm sorry to say, I've taken a turn for the worst right now. Don't worry, it's temporary.

I am slowly building myself back up, that's what I'm doing right now if you're wondering what I've been doing all this time. I'm healing day by day and I hope you are too sweetheart. I might be a bit stuck and tangled up right now, but I'm clearing through it!

I'm the kind of guy who will pursue you with nothing but kindness until I make you fall for me with your charm, I'm cute, I know I am, you'll love me, I have curly light hair, and a really cute smile. You'll think I'm so adorable.

I want to offer my heart to you, fully, 100%. You have me, all of me as long as you give me you in return, I hope you do, I can't be without you once I know you.

Take care my love ❤️."

Hope you enjoyed ❤️ Don't forget to do the poll below!!

[togrowoldinv]

The Bodyguard Pt. 2

Bodyguard!Natasha Romanoff x Actress!Reader

Natasha is tasked with being bodyguard to you and you two grow close. Maybe too close, but would she dare cross that line?

Note: The long awaited part 2 is here! Find part one here. I hope you enjoy it!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

“Rule number three: We can’t get too close to each other,” Natasha says. “I have to protect you with a clear mind.”

“Okay,” you say. “But maybe we could break the rules, Natasha?”

“Y/n,” Natasha warns.

“Come on Natasha,” you say. “Why fight this?”

Natasha stands up from the couch and paces back and forth in front of you.

“I have to step down,” Natasha says.

“What?” You ask, standing up. “You didn’t even cross a line! It’s okay, Natasha. We’ll pretend this didn’t happen.”

“I don’t think I can just pretend it didn’t happen, y/n,” Natasha argues. “I have to go. I’ll send a replacement.”

“Natasha!” You call after her, but she is already out of the door.

You sit on the couch with your head in your hands. Natasha drives to the office, fighting back tears of her own.

When she gets there, she finds Carol at her desk. She hands her your weekly itinerary.

“Nat?” Carol asks.

“Take care of her,” Nat replies. She begins to walk away, but Carol chases after her. She grabs her hand and turns her back to face her.

“What happened?” Carol asks.

“I got too close,” Nat shrugs. “We almost kissed.”

“Shit, I’m sorry Natasha.”

“It’s alright. I took an oath, you know. I can’t be her bodyguard now. You’re the next best one.”

“I’ll take care of her, Nat. I promise.”

Carol hugs Nat briefly before she reports to your apartment. You don’t greet her with near as much enthusiasm or politeness as you should. She doesn’t take it personally.

It doesn’t feel the same as she walks you to your car. You realize nothing will feel like being with Natasha did. And you didn’t even date the woman. You zone out on the way to the awards show you are to attend tonight.

“Miss Y/l/n, are you ready to go inside?” Carol asks you.

“I- I really don’t want to go in,” you speak truthfully.

Carol leans up and asks the driver to give you two a minute alone. He agrees and steps out of the car.

“Is this about Natasha?” She asks.

You whip your head around to face her. She wears a knowing look.

“She told you what happened?”

“She did,” Carol confirms. “I hate it for both of you. Nat was really happy, and she is never happy to be security for actors.”

“We got too close,” you sigh.

“What does that even mean?” Carol wonders aloud. “Life is too short to worry about being too close with someone, y/n. Sure, you two should suspend the professional partnership, but there’s no reason you can’t be with her.”

“You think so? She ran out before I could even ask her why not that.”

“You should try and talk to her again,” Carol suggests.

“I don’t even have her real phone number.”

“I have it on good authority that she will be here tonight,” Carol replies. She almost wears a smirk on her face. It reminds you of Natasha’s crooked smile. “And I’m pretty sure the world will be disappointed if their favorite actress doesn’t make an appearance tonight.”

You take a deep breath and straighten your dress. Carol gets out of the car first and helps you out onto the carpet. Cameras flash immediately, and you hear shouts of your name. It all feels a bit overwhelming.

“Just breathe and keep moving,” Carol says.

Your nerves settle as you do all of the required photos and interviews. Once you’re inside, you greet friends in the industry. You catch sight of Natasha out of the corner of your eye, but you don’t see her fully.

The ceremony is decently boring until there’s a loud blast. Before you can even process it, Carol is by your side and covering you with her body. You don’t feel any physical injuries. But it’s another person that lifts you up out of the rubble.

“Natasha?” You ask.

“It’s alright,” Nat says. “I’m getting you out of here.”

“Nat, you’re bleeding,” you say, recognizing the seeping red liquid coming out of her side.

“I’m okay.”

She carries you out of what is left of the building and to the emergency medical tents set up. Nat sets you at one of the tables and turns back towards the building. You reach for her to stay.

“You need help, Nat,” you say.

“Take care of her,” she instructs the EMT.

“Natasha-”

“I have to go get Carol. I’ll be back.”

She runs off before you can get another word out. It’s five minutes before you see her again. Nat is barely moving as she carries her unconscious friend over her shoulder. Clearly, they both sustained life-threatening injuries.

You rush towards where Nat lets someone take Carol from her. She falls to the ground in pain, finally.

“Y/n,” Nat whimpers.

“Help! She needs help!” You yell for someone.

The EMTs are quick to her aid, but she’s already passed out. You sit on the pavement and watch as they tend to her injuries. They tell you they have to take her and the other injured to the hospital. It takes forever to find a ride there yourself.

You burst through the doors and demand to see Natasha. A doctor stops you short of the restricted area.

“Hey, hey, who are you looking for?” The woman asks. She has to place her hand on your shoulder to stop you from barging past her.

“Natasha Romanoff,” you say.

“Okay. Let me find her chart.”

The woman takes forever to scroll through the tablet and find her name. It’s probably just seconds, but to you, it feels like hours.

“She is in surgery,” the woman answers. “I’ll take you to the waiting room, and someone can update you. Follow me.”

You follow the doctor to the waiting room and see a large group of other people waiting there. A lot of people were injured in this accident. Their heads turn when they see who you are.

“Shit,” you mumble to yourself.

You try to escape the crowd, figuring they would realize you’re not in the state to greet fans right now, but they surround you. The voices are loud and jumbled, but you hear one that is different. One that is helpful.

“Hey, come with me,” a woman’s voice says. You honestly don’t even care who it is as long as they get you out of this crowd.

She takes you down the hallway and scans a badge to the restricted area. You follow her into what seems to be a doctor’s lounge.

“My daughter works here,” she says with a smirk. “I’m Maria, by the way. Maria Rambeau.”

“Y/n,” you tell her.

“Yeah,” she says with a small laugh. “Who are you here for?”

“My- um- my bodyguard.”

“Must be some bodyguard if you care enough to be here,” Maria says.

You sit on the couch and close your eyes. You didn’t think you had any physical injuries, but your wrist is throbbing in pain. You sigh.

Maria types something on her phone and then makes you a glass of water. You accept it with your other hand and try to breathe. It isn’t long before another woman enters the room. It’s the doctor from earlier.

“Hey Monica,” Maria greets her. She pulls her into a hug. “How is she?”

“It’s touch and go,” Monica says despondently. “Oh, hi again.”

“Hey,” you say to her. “Can you check on Natasha?”

“Natasha?” Maria wonders aloud, mostly to herself.

Monica nods to her mother and pulls out her tablet again. She regretfully tells you there is no update.

“Can you look up my other bodyguard too? I know she was hurt pretty badly. I don’t know her last name, but her name is Carol,” you explain.

“Actually, that’s who I was just updating my mom about,” Monica says.

“You two know each other?”

“She is- well, she was my partner for a long time,” Maria says.

“Oh, I just met her today. She seems nice, though.”

“She is,” Monica pipes in. “I have to get back to work, but I’ll send someone to look at that wrist, y/n.”

“How did you know?” You ask.

“I can’t give away all of my secrets,” Monica jokes. And then adds, “Mom noticed actually.”

You crack a smile and Monica hugs her mom quickly before leaving the room again. Maria sits on the couch opposite you.

“What happened with you and Carol?” You ask. When she hesitates to answer, you say, “Sorry, I just can’t stop worrying about Natasha and wanted to get my mind off of it.”

“That’s alright,” Maria says. She has a comforting yet confident way about her. You can see her being with Carol. “It’s kind of the age-old story. Everything was fine until it wasn’t.”

“I get that,” you say.

“We were best friends, and then we were more. On perhaps the shortest break from a relationship ever, I messed up and got with someone else. Enter Monica,” Maria explains. “I wouldn’t change the fact that I have her, but things with Carol were different after that.”

She continues, “She never faltered, not really. But she wasn’t really as happy. She always had these big dreams. She had a lot of ‘I’m going to save the world’ attitude about her. And she couldn’t save the world if she was stuck in Louisiana with me and Monica.”

“Was it that you two weren’t enough for her?” You ask. “I don’t see myself as enough for Natasha, but I would still risk it all to be with her.”

“No, I think Monica and I were enough. I convinced her to move on though,” Maria says.

“Why?”

“Well, sometimes in life, y/n, you make sacrifices for the people you love.”

Your conversation is interrupted by a doctor coming in to look at your wrist. They explain it’s just a sprain, but they put you in a brace for comfort. Maria promises to wake you up if there’s any updates, so you let yourself close your eyes.

It’s a few hours later when she wakes you. You stand at the sight of a doctor in front of you. You don’t hear anything, but that Nat is okay, and you can come see her.

You follow the doctor down the hallway to her room. When the door opens, you notice how small Natasha looks. To your surprise, she is awake.

“How are we feeling, Ms. Romanoff?” The nurse that followed you in asks her.

“Better now,” Nat says, smiling at you the best she can.

“The pain medicine kicked in,” the nurse tells you. “You can visit for a few minutes but she’ll need to sleep soon.”

You nod. Then you’re left alone with Natasha.

“You’re hurt,” Nat says with a frown.

“Just barely,” you say. You make your way to her bedside. “You saved me.”

“I’d do it again.”

“The doctor said you should make a full recovery,” you tell her.

“And Carol?” Nat asks.

“I’m not sure, but I did meet her family,” you say. “Or I guess what used to be her family.”

“Maria?” She asks. You nod. “That’s good. They’re good for each other.”

“Are we good for each other?” You accidentally ask out loud. “Sorry. I was just hoping to talk to you before everything happened. I really want this. I really want you.”

Nat tries to process your words through the pain and medicine. It’s a lot right now.

“You don’t need to say anything right now, Natasha. Just get some rest. I’ll be here,” you say.

“Thank you for being here,” Nat says. “Do you think- um could you get in here with me?”

“In the bed? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You could never hurt me, y/n,” Natasha says. “Please.”

You oblige and settle against Nat’s good side. She didn’t say it, but you can tell by the way she rests against you that she wants this too.

[lizpottersworld]

. ۫ ꣑ৎ . JUST NOT HOME PT2 after your breakup with remus, you left town and didn’t expect a message from him months later but now he was in front of you again, and all the feelings you had were back. (remus lupin x reader)

everyone wanted a part 2 so here you go😉 this ones more of a how did it end vibe

part one here

thats how the conversation and hundreds of threads of messages started, and it never stopped until the two of you met up at your guys old favourite coffee shop.

remus thought it would take more convincing to get you to meet him and he was prepared for that, but you accepted so quickly it took him by surprise.

thats how you found yourself walking into the cafe, the cold air blush tainted on your cheeks. the server greeted you, noticing you as an old regular and you nervously walked over to the table where you anxiously overthought what would happen.

a small smile creeped on your face as you noticed how similar he looked. the same remus you had fallen so hopelessly in love with. if that was a good or bad thing you were unsure. all you knew in that moment, was how desperate you were to run your hands through his hair and touch his lips again.

then he looked up and noticed you, his green homey eyes looking straight into yours again. you nervously reached the table and he stood up to gently pull you into a hug, which turned into an side hug at your unexpectedness.

“hi,” he breathed, eyes taking you in as if you’d disappear from his memory. “you look lovely, i ordered you your favourite by the way.” he smiled, pulling your chair out and then sitting in his seat opposite.

that was what hurt the most. knowing that all this was most probably him being kind and that this wasn’t the normality you had missed. god, he probably already had a new girlfriend that looked nothing like you.

“hello, remus,” you forced out with an anxious smile, slipping your coat and scarf off to the back of your chair as he watched with a soft smile. “thank you.” you smiled as you sipped your drink.

it was silent for a few seconds as you took in each other for the first time in a while. you had missed this. it went from seeing each-other every hour of every day to no contact or anything for six months.

remus cleared his throat interrupting the silence and the overbearing swarm of your thoughts. “i really just needed to see you and talk to you,” he paused biting his lip nervously, “i feel horrible for how it ended, and i just i can’t help but feel like the reason you moved is my fault.”

ironically, he was a part of the reason you decided to move. it was hard to find a new normality being surrounded by the things the two of you had found together and done together ever since you moved to london. the city practically screamed his name.

“well, you never did tell me why you called it off. so either i was completely blind or was living in some sort of delusion, because everything we had was perfect in my eyes.” you cleared your throat, placing your drink back on the table.

you could of sworn you saw the mood shift in his eyes instantly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“well- i mean. no, you weren’t either of those things, our relationship was amazing and everything anyone could wish for,” he smiled reminiscing, “but, i just- i couldn’t do it anymore.” he shook his head.

your mind travelled through whatever reason he would think that he had to end it, he literally just called the relationship a fairytale. so why would you end something so beautiful?

“before you even think about, it wasn’t anything to do with you. i know they all say this, but it wasn’t you it was me. and i truly mean that.” he shook his head disappointed he couldn’t give you the answer you obviously wanted, it would only make it feel more difficult. you scoff at his words, feeling pathetic for even bothering to come.

“remus, your going to tell me why you broke up with me. no one should have to deal with the unknowing of why something ends the way it does, it quite literally eats away at you!” you whisper yell, growing agitated at the waste of your break from uni you could be spending with family.

he shook his head, hiding his face away from the prominent stare you were giving him. you needed to know the truth.

you stood up from your chair and grabbed your stuff, sighing as you shook your head at the conversation. his head looked back up at you as you spoke for the what he knew as the final time, “i’m leaving. i really think you should tell me the truth. but truth is, you don’t owe me that anymore. i wish you the best in your life, but i’m going now.” you try to smile, walking out of the cafe door.

remus quietly sits there staring at the place you just stood as you disappointedly spoke to him. so many thoughts whirled through his mind, and only the bell alarm that sounded as the door opened woke him up. he immediately shot up grabbing his coat running after you.

tears had fallen down your cheeks as you held your umbrella over your head, as you walked down the street to the taxi pick up point. you heard someone say your name but ignored it, not fully catching up on it.

“y/n/n!” remus helplessly called this time, as you turned around to face him and his wet clothes. you didn’t even have the time to process or ask him what’s wrong, before his lips were on yours and he eagerly poured his heart into the kiss.

you pulled away, looking into his eyes trying to dictate what the hell had just happened. didn’t take any more than a few seconds till you launched yourself into his arms and kissed him this time with just as much passion.

rain poured down around the two of you as you two refused to let go, scared of what had to happen afterwards.

“why did you kiss me, remus?” you whispered, looking up at him so confused and hopeless. he smiled warmly gazing down into your glass covered eyes.

“i just wanted to kiss you.” he titled his head, arms wrapping around your waist, “and because i can’t let you walk out my life again this time,” he shook his head and your face softened, “i was scared. i love you so much and love scares me a lot. my parents aren’t together anymore as you know, and i’m just scared of all the possibilities that could happen to us.”

your hand found his cheek and you lovingly and comfortingly caressed it, “sure, theres chances of bad endings but theres also the endless possibility of good happenings and endings. and trust me, I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to us.”

remus felt like melting in a pool at your words, “i love you so fucking much, its unbelievable.” he laughs at how pathetic he sounds, kissing you desperately again as if he couldn’t bare to be without.

.

[emmylksblog]

BEYOND THE BENEFITS PT.2 // H.FORT

summary: Hector and you have been friends with benefits for some time now, but you begin to feel jealous when Hector starts spending time with other girls. But one night, at Marc's party everything takes a turn.

content: friends with benefits! , angst

warnings: physical fight but no injuries mentioned

words: 1115

The next day, Hector heads to football training with his Barcelona teammates. They all notice that he's in a particularly sullen mood. Usually, he's the life of the party, but today, he's quietly seething. Because of one girl, the girl he has known for years but only came to discover his feelings for her recently.

Marc, trying to keep things normal, approaches him like he usually does, but Hector gives him the cold shoulder, avoiding eye contact. The tension between the two best friends is palpable.

During a practice match, Hector and Marc's tension reaches a boiling point, and it all explodes in the form of a physical altercation. Hector starts by pushing Marc a bit too hard, and Marc retaliates, the two of them trading blows.

Lamine, noticing the escalating fight, rushes over to separate them. He yells, his voice breaking through the chaos, "Hey, hey! Stop it! ¡¿Qué os pasa?!" ("What are you guys doing?!")

Lamine physically pulls Hector and Marc apart, holding them back from each other. They're both panting and seething, glaring at each other with a mix of anger and frustration.

The rest of the team stands by, surprised and shocked by the sudden clash between their teammates who were known for their tight bond. Some players exchange worried glances, while others try to appear unaffected by the tension.

The coach is furious seeing his players engage in a physical altercation on the field, and he immediately pulls them both aside.

"What the hell were you two thinking?" he scolds them. "You're supposed to be teammates, not enemies. You're acting like children. Both of you, on the bench!"

The coach gestures towards the bench, his stern gaze fixed on Hector and Marc, making it clear that they are not to rejoin the game until they've sorted out their issues.

Once they're seated on the bench, Hector slumps down, his shoulders slumped and his head hung low. The weight of his regrets and mistakes seem to crush him as he breaks down and apologizes to Marc.

"I'm sorry," he says, his voice hoarse. "You deserve her more. You should be the one she's with."

Marc is taken aback by Hector's sudden confession, but he quickly catches himself. He shakes his head, a mixture of amusement and disbelief in his eyes.

"Soy amigo de un idiota," ("My friend is a dummy,") Marc retorts, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You couldn't be more wrong. She's in love with you, you fool. You're the one she's been pining over this whole time."

Hector looks up at Marc, disbelief written all over his face. "Pero que estás diciendo?" ("What are you talking about?") he asks incredulously. "She would never... I mean, she and I... we're just..."

Marc rolls his eyes, exasperated with his friend's obliviousness. "Yes, you two are just 'friends with benefits,' but that's because you never had the guts to tell her how you really feel. She's been crazy about you for ages, and you've been too dense to notice."

As Marc sees that his friend has lost all hopes of gaining your trust again a plan forms in his mind. He turns to Hector, a glint in his eye.

"Alright, listen up," he says. "Here's what we're going to do. I'm going to convince her to come to the match today, and then, when you score a goal, you're going to dedicate it to her in a way that she can't mistake it for anything other than a confession."

"Thank you Marc, I think that was the easiest plan you could come up with" Hector said his voice leased with sarcasm.

You had reluctantly agreed to come to your friends' football match, primarily for Marc's sake and to stay away from Hector, but guess what? Number 32 was playing too.

The match had commenced, but each time your eyes caught sight of Hector on the field, a flutter of emotions stirred within you, painful reminders of the complicated feelings between you both.

Just as you were about to stand and leave, unable to bear the sight of him, Hector scored a goal. Without hesitation, he ran towards the stands where you were, heading directly towards you.

You stood frozen, torn between the desire to escape and the overwhelming presence of his gaze fixed upon you. He stopped right in front of you, his chest heaving as he caught his breath from the run. His eyes searched your face, filled with an intensity that left you breathless.

Hector stood there, captivated by your presence, barely acknowledging the fact that he had just left the field mid-game. Instead, his focus was entirely on you as you started to ramble nervously about his unexpected action.

But as the words spilled from your lips, he didn't appear to be listening to the words themselves. His eyes were fixed on you, completely mesmerized by the sight of you before him.

He couldn't hold back any longer. The pent-up emotions and longing took over as he passionately pulled you towards him and kissed you. Right there in front of everyone, he poured his feelings into the kiss. It was more than just a declaration of affection; it was a confession of how deep his love ran, how his feelings for you surpassed anything you could have imagined.

He longed to communicate all this through the kiss, to make you understand that you meant so much more to him than you ever thought possible.

As he kissed you, everything else melted away, and all that mattered was the connection between the two of you. The field, the crowd, the game—none of it existed at this moment. All that mattered was the intensity of the emotions and the depth of his feelings for you, which he expressed through every movement of his lips against yours.

You break the kiss, your heart racing from the intensity of the moment, but also knowing that the match is still ongoing. As you gently remind him of this, he leans in and dodges your face to be close to your ear.

"I love you," he confesses and swiftly leans out.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he quickly pecked you on the lips before dashing back onto the field, leaving you stunned by his boldness. However, the sight of him receiving a yellow card while grinning like a fool caused you to burst into laughter.

Hector, in the end, realized that his feelings for you ran deeper than anything he had ever known. The boundaries that had once seemed to define your relationship blurred until they faded away entirely, replaced by a love that embraced both of your personas. He loved you beyond the benefits.

[hysteria-things]

GHOST PT 2 PLS

GHOST (part two)

read part one here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: matt feels heartbroken for you, and using the estes method helps him connect with the afterlife to learn your story.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: ANGST, swearing, crying, mentions death (strangulation), lots of dialogue

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 494

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: wanted this to have a short and sweet/sad ending🥲

it’s been about an hour or two, but matt still can’t fathom what he saw. let alone that he had sex with a ghost.

sam and colby talk to the camera, nick sandwiches between them leaving chris and matt in the back.

chris nudges his brother’s arm. “are you doing alright? you’ve been quiet.”

he puts on his best fake smile. “yeah. this hotel is just scary as fuck.”

chris laughs, nodding his head before yapping on and on about whatever.

matt tunes him out, feeling sad. despite being a literal ghost, he wanted to stay with you forever.

he misses you.

mirrors decorate the walls, the room is dark except for the lights that sam and colby set up on the floor. there’s a spirit box in the middle, and static comes from the speakers.

the five boys stand in the middle, taking turns to say stuff but having no luck. “i think you should only speak, matt.” colby explains. “they seem to really like you.”

clearing his throat, he starts speaking. “who’s in here with us right now?

some statics later, they finally get something. “y/n.”

there’s a twinkle in matt’s eye when he hears that name. “hi, y/n.” he says softly, sitting down to get comfortable next to the device. “do you feel safe with all of us in here?”

“you.”

“you?” sam repeats. “like… she’s safe with you?” he points to matt.

“i guess so.” he nods. “what happened to you at this hotel?”

“strangled.”

there’s some commentary getting thrown around the room with each question, but matt is focused on hearing only your voice.

“can you tell me who did that to you?” he says, keeping his tone content.

“brother.”

he can’t help but feel sorry for you. you were so young and had so much to live for, but now you’re known as one of the ninety ghosts that roam this hotel.

nose sniffling, his eyes start to water. he catches on and wipes the tears away. “are you free in this hotel?”

“no.”

before he can ask another question, another word picks up. “out.”

“whoa.” sam says. “it’s never done that—”

“peace.”

colby snaps his fingers repeatedly. “she’s doing rapid fire right now.”

after the boys become silent, and he continues with a shaky inhale. “you feel stuck in here; is that what you’re saying.”

“yes.”

without being able to catch it this time, a tear trickles down his cheek. “i’m sorry, y/n.”

“are you crying?” nick asks, everybody else staring down at him.

“don’t cry.”

he ignores the others, but he doesn’t ignore you. he chuckles instead, wiping the waterworks.

“i’m fine.”

“take a break, man.” colby says, tapping him on the shoulder to help him off the ground.

with that, they contact different spirits after you. matt has to come to terms that he’ll never be able to see you again. he wants you to find your peace. he hopes you will be free.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

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