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"I wish to become a hero! I wish to become a hero! I wish to become a hero! I wish to become a hero...!"
#this is a queued post 😇#precure#hirogaru sky precure#sora harewataru#mygifs#sora who by the end of this season might be a top 5 main cure for me#between that flashback of her practicing alone while others were making friends and this one....#i feel so sad for her i want nothing more than for her to become the world's strongest and happiest hero no more pain only strong and happy#(hirogaru writing team writing sora and sora/mashiro with heart eyes and looking apathetic while writing literally everything else lol)
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...
#sorry im thinking abt death again#because it's weird to think that ive been in the room. maybe a meter away from someone as they died#that someone being my mom. its just weird. the time in the hospital feels like it happened in some dark little pocket universe detached from#time. a calm room and then the soft blips of a monitor then the nurse rushing in to say she'd passed#i dont kno y ppl use that phrase: passed on. i mean i do. it softens the topic. makes it sound peaceful. ive yet to use it. i just say she#died bc thats what happened. is that insensitive? i dunno. when i was home i realized that i come off as much stranger than i think. the way#my family see me doesnt fit how i see myself. i dont kno what to do with that. i dunno. theyre all together today#for an early easter. and im halfway across the country again. nose so stuffy ive had to mouth breathe for the last 3 days#and again. everything feels the same as it did before but also profoundly different. sometimes i cry in the mornings. or when i think abt#future vacations she wont be there for. bc in the end she quickly slipped away in a way that couldn't be described as peaceful until her#last half a day. and all i can think about in that tiny room is how scary it would be to lose control like that#and how its not fair and she didnt deserve to die only halfway through a lifetime. but its not about fair and its not about deserving.#sometimes bad things just happen. that's life. and now i own a book called motherless daughters. and now im standing with the countless#others who've lost their moms too early. ive already become aware of 3 ppl in my daily life who are in the same club#i keep thinking about this moment that happened between my parents at the hospital. apparently my dad was helping her get cleaned up and her#stomach was so bloated she looked like she had a bby in there. which my dad said. and my mom apparently said: but it's a baby no one want. i#dont kno y that upsets me so much. all the things i heard abt her being in the hospital before i got there upset me. and the rest of my#family was there to see it. so i have the least traumatic version of the story. and i got almost 27 years with her. except my sisters#probably got more time with her bc i spent so much time away. or maybe not. i dunno.#i dunno. im just sad that shes gone and sad that it was drawn out even a little bit. 6 days isnt long but im sure it felt like an eternity.#again not fair. nothings fair. 53 years of unfairness culminating in a tragedy. she would hate me characterizing it like that. she lived a#full life as they say. full with an asterisk on account of length#unrelated
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I wanted to make this post because we don’t see a lot of asexual characters in western media and despite him being from a hugely popular show (Seaside Hotel) you’re unlikely to know of his existence if you’re not from Denmark.
His name is Hjalmar Aurland and he’s one of the more sympathetic and realistic asexual characters I’ve seen. He lives in a time and place where asexuality as a concept doesn’t exist yet so he’s never labeled as such but rewatching the show made me realize that he acts exactly like the asexual people I personally know. Asexuality can mean a lot of things but his specific brand isn’t naive to sex nor is he repulsed by sex, sexual desire or thoughts simply doesn’t come naturally to him.
He can be convinced to have sex with his wife Helene but only if she appeals to their emotional bond. Just so you don’t get the wrong idea, he’s not being forced or emotionally blackmailed to sleep with her. It’s simply that he understands sex is a way to show emotional love too and he wants to express that love for Helene when it’s important to her, and seeing as sex isn’t unpleasant to him, just kinda boring, he’s willing to do that for her.
Unfortunately that isn’t enough for Helene and despite her love for Hjalmar she starts an affair with the dramatic and emotional actor Edward Weyse. He has a string of relationships, marriages and divorces behind him because despite what it may look like from the outside Edward doesn’t really want shallow sexual relationships. He just can’t help himself and keep falling in love with women left and right, fully and wholeheartedly, only to be dumped or dump them once the initial excitement has passed.
So Helene and Edward’s affair that was only meant to satisfy their carnal desires quickly becomes romantic. Helene feels torn between him and Hjalmar who she still loves and Edward understands the difficult situation they’re both in while also feeling jealous of Hjalmar. And Hjalmar? He doesn’t catch on for years. He’s not stupid but his brain just doesn’t jump to sex. He just assumes they’re good friends and why shouldn’t his wife be allowed to have friends, even male ones? Things get really complicated when Helene gets pregnant and she has to have sex with Hjalmar so he won’t wonder how it happened. Edward even has to join in on the seduction, reminding Hjalmar how much Helene loves him, even though it breaks Edward’s heart to do so.
But like I’ve said Hjalmar isn’t stupid. He saw the signs but chose to ignore them until one night when Helene accidentally says Edward’s name. It breaks the dam in Hjalmar’s denial and he has to face that deep down he always knew. Overcome by sadness and betrayal he wanders off into the night in nothing but his nightgown and gets a room at a different hotel where he can think in peace. Eventually he agrees to return to the first hotel with Helene and Edward and decides to take control of the situation.
He sits them both down and tells them that he understands that the three of them share a bond and that there are things he can’t really do for Helene so from now on he wants their relationship to be open and honest. He wants Helene and Edward to keep seeing each other and Edward is welcome in their house, but Hjalmar wants to be allowed to call Edward by his first name and makes it very clear that Helene and Edward’s children “belong to him” because he still thinks of himself as their dad and loves them as his own children. Both Helene and Edward agrees to it, though the emotional Edward is very flustered and confused by the acceptance and love he’s being shown by Hjalmar.
This is obviously a very tv drama situation but I was so stuck by how much Hjalmar acts like my asexual friends. Having a lover for your partner isn’t the most common solution but it’s an idea I’ve heard a lot of asexual people be open to under the right circumstances and of course that’s the most dramatic solution for a romantic tv drama.
Hjalmar is defined by so much more than his sexuality though. His main characteristic is his passion for social justice and equality, and other than some early show weirdness before they really cemented the characters, Hjamler is the only character who floats freely between the men and women. He’s just as likely to sit with the men as he is the women, often appearing in otherwise entirely female spaces. It’s never questioned or even brought up, not because he’s a “safe asexual” but because he cares and think their worries are as important as the men’s. He’s often called a pessimist by the other men when in reality he is determined to be hopeful and compassionate and spread the love he feels the world is lacking as WWII draws closer.
So yeah, I just wanted to share this sweet ace guy with you because you probably wouldn’t have known about him otherwise.
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why havent i been talking to the much much cooler and better older sister who is a furry and super nice and fun to talk to and cares about my opinions and feelings instead of the one who cant respect boundaries and makes me feel like a mistake and doesnt care abt how i feel
#the bin#shes also the only normal person in my family#and when i say normal i mean it in a treats other people with respect way not in a societally normal way#cause she the least 'normal' of my family in that way. which is a good thing. be a freak. autism makes u cooler by default#idk. she sthe only person who i feel like actually cares about me and my opinion and wants to hear what i have to say and views me right#i wish we talked more when i was younger. shes so nice. i hope when i move we can houngout together more and maybe watch some movies#and talk abt stuff or smth. we r probably gonna play some games together soon which is nice#i miss her. i think i can also talk to her abt how our other sister kinda sucks. i know she views her pretty highly or at least used to but#i still think i can. i dont think itll make her uncomfortable.#ive been looking over the past years with my other sister and they havent really been any good mostly#ive just been so isolated and sad that it was better than nothing but its past that point now#if id had other people to talk to then i wouodnt have soent so much time with someone making me feel worse#i also think shes just made me a worse person overall. more judgemental. the past year ive become very against that trying hard to not#and she gets very upset with me when im like hey. yknow. id rather assume the best of random strangers not doing anything that bad#i dont wanna assume everyone is an inconsiderate asshole because they arent. life circumstances we dont know about could be#the reason for this honestly pretty mild inconvenience. if u wanna think otherwise then thats fine but dont day it around me#idk. im tired of it. im still super sad but ive become a much more bright and hopeful person because im trying to be#it actually sucks to view the whole world as horrible and everyone around you ass horrible#idk. maybe i can get my other sister to do the fun stuff with me i dont like doing alone#cause it makes me unbelievably sad to realize i dont have anyone to ask anymore at all. period. but maybe it doesnt have to be that way
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Here's an arc I thought about doing but won't do because, it'd be a bit too sad and also it's too similar to the Turing Point Arc I already did and also it would be long. But I'll write it here for you angst enjoyers. This ended up being longer than I thought.
Despite getting the "okay" from Ash to date Jessie, Delia still worries that she's not doing the right thing or being a bad mom. Up until now she'd convinced herself that she had the right to be selfish for once after knowing only sacrifice and putting herself last.
Jessie and Ash, while not as antagonistic towards each other, still go at it. A Pikachu zap here, an angry "twerp" being uttered there. The guilt settles in for Delia and figures that it's best to just cut things off before things potentially get worse or before she gets too attached to Jessie. Her son comes first after all. That's what she signed up for when becoming a parent.
She sits Jessie down, eyes watery (it's the first time Jessie's ever seen Delia come close to crying). Delia says she thinks they should end things. Jessie is stunned but accepts it quickly. She sucks it up in the moment, puts a resigned smile on her face and tells Delia she'll leave immediately and not to worry about her. Delia's also broken up about it but promised herself she'd never cry over a goodbye and she wasn't gonna start now.
Jessie goes to James and Meowth's place greeted similarly to this, lightly teasing her about blowing it with Delia, and she breaks down sobbing. Oops it's real this time. James and Meowth do everything in their power to make her feel better. They let her know that things like this happen and they're ready to go wherever she wants to go (knowing that it'd likely be to painful for her to stay in Pallet). As much as she wants to leave, she doesn't want James and Meowth to lose the good thing they have going. She's not in the right headspace to make any decisions so she'll get to it later.
Ash returns home after doing a little training at Oak's lab. He notices Jessie's not around and asks his mom where she is. Delia is about to tell him but can't quite bring herself to say the truth out loud yet. She simply says "I don't know". Ash looks disappointed. "Aw man, I wanted to see if she wanted to battle. She makes a good battle buddy for all of my newer, baby Pokémon." Delia perks up that this. As quickly as he came, he leaves again to go train his Pokémon.
Later, Delia approaches Ash, asking him if he really meant that what he said about Jessie being a good battle partner. He gives her an enthusiastic "yeah!" and tells her that it's been nice having another battle ready trainer around since there's not many in Pallet. Delia starts to pry a little more. "I thought you and Jessie didn't get along?" Ash is confused, and tells Delia they get along great! "Jessie doesn't steal anymore! And she's getting better at battling which is cool." Delia brings up that she's head them argue before. "Oh... well I guess that's just how we are. I'd be weirded out if she was suddenly too nice to me all the time. Jessie's actually a lot like Misty. But taller!" This gives Delia a lot to think about but what's done is done and it's no use pressing on. It's easier this way.
The next morning Delia's getting ready for work. She must not have noticed that she was acting weird but Ash picks up on it. "What's wrong mom?" Delia's shocked he noticed (he's not usually this perceptive). She tells him it's nothing and that she just slept bad. "Hm. But Jessie says that when you're upset you get really quiet and intense." Delia notices that she was pretty intensely mixing the pancake batter. "Jessie told you that?" Ash nods. "Hey speaking of, where is Jessie? Haven't seen her since yesterday." Delia stops mixing and tells Ash that she and Jessie aren't together anymore. Ash is confused and upset at the idea of Jessie doing something that would hurt his mom enough for them to break up. Delia lets him know that Jessie didn't do anything like that and that them breaking up was just for the best. But Ash questions this, pointing out that he's never seen Delia as happy as she was when Jessie was there and also how Delia looks really sad now. Delia can't argue with that but then tells him that it's complicated. Ash, to Delia's surprise, looks a bit disappointed. He's bummed he wasn't able to say goodbye first and asks if she thinks Jessie would still be willing to come by and train with him sometimes. Delia asks him once more if he was really okay with her and Jessie dating. "Yeah I thought I said that already? Jessie's pretty cool when she's not being evil. And she really likes Pokémon which is a plus!" Such simple criteria. Delia's now worried that she might've made a mistake. She finishes making breakfast and heads to work.
At the restaurant she's met by James. She can feel an awkwardness hanging in the air. She knows that James knows. Before she can say anything James tells Delia thank you for employing him and helping him, Meowth and Jessie get back on their feet but that he's going to quit working at the restaurant and that they'll likely be leaving Pallet soon. Delia's heart sinks. There's now a ticking clock and she has to decide what she wants to do SOON. She asks James where Jessie is. James hesitantly tells her that she's at his and Meowth's place. Delia pleads with James to work the restaurant for one more day at least and to cover this shift. She has to go talk to Jessie. He agrees, hoping that this is a good thing.
Delia runs to James and Meowth's place. She knocks on the door upon arrival and waits. It takes a moment but she hears the door unlock. Jessie opens the door, disheveled, tears and snot all over her face, draped in a blanket. Jessie notices it's Delia and, frightened, slams the door. Delia's stunned for a moment and goes to knock on the door again but before she can the door opens. This time Jessie's tears are gone, her hair's fixed and she ditched the blanket. "Oh hey, Delia! What brings you here?" Delia can't help but be charmed. But this is serious. She shakes it off and asks if they could talk. Jessie invites her in. They get to the couch and Jessie starts frantically cleaning up all the crumpled tissues and dirty dishes off the ground. "Heh I caught a cold yesterday. A one day cold. I'm fine now." Delia doesn't call out the obvious lie and gets straight to the point.
She tells Jessie that she's worried she made a mistake. She made a panicked decision that she was hoping would protect Ash and her future self. But now realizes that she was afraid of the idea that she'd made a selfish decision by dating her. It was a selfish decision but that didn't mean it was a bad one. She was the happiest she'd been, Jessie and Ash were learning to get along and were getting along much better than she'd though. She acknowledges that Jessie has been there for Ash in a way that she can't quite be and is also grateful to her for managing to keep Ash home a little longer. She asks if Jessie would be willing to take her back (despite the distress she caused). Jessie starts sobbing with happy tears. She tearfully says she'll try even harder to get along with Ash and be a better person. Delia reassures her that she's doing just fine.
They kiss passionately but then realize it's weird that they're making out in James in Meowth's place and say they'll continue later. Delia tells Jessie to head back home and that Ash is looking forward to battling with her (and she also needs to let James and Meowth not to quit their jobs).
The end~
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I wanna know you, honey| Spencer Reid
A/N: I will be continuing mind games soon I promise, that’s all :)
Summary: Spencer’s wanted since the first time he had seen you, but he is was always to scared to admit his feelings.
Content: idiots in love basically. Smut. 18+. Fem reader. Fluff. Munch! Spencer. Creampie. No mentions of contraception. P in V. Semi dom spencer. Sub reader.
Masterlist| request are open| Navigation
Spencer knew you were so far off limits; it was almost humorous, but he couldn’t get enough of you. He didn’t love you, because he knew he couldn’t love you, but he would give everything he could, including his sky-high IQ, for you two to be in love with each other.
Spencer wanted everything from you, he wanted to know what you tasted like, he wanted to know what you looked like first thing in the morning or just after a shower, and he wanted to know what did when you were alone.
He often found himself daydreaming about doing mundane, everyday things with you. But shamefully, he also thought what it would be like to have sex with you. He believed you would taste like honey, and if he ever did get a taste of you, he didn’t think he would be able to ever stop himself. He wanted to know how you sounded, what kinks or fantasies you had.
Spencer couldn’t shake the thought of you, no matter how hard he tried to distract himself. “Spencer, you either need to tell how you feel, or get a grip man.” Derek stared at Spencer, with a mix of concern and amusement.
*
Spencer had neither told you about his feelings, nor got a grip. Instead, he found himself slipping deeper into his fantasies about you. The thought of your smile, your touch, consumed him day and night.
“Spencer, have you told her yet?” JJ interrupted his thoughts, her concern evident in her voice. Spencer shifted in his seat, his mind racing with all the possible outcomes of revealing his true emotions to you.
He had rehearsed the conversation a million times in his head, each scenario ending with a different reaction from you. The fear of rejection gripped him tightly, paralyzing him from taking that final leap of faith.
"I... I haven't found the right moment yet," Spencer stammered, avoiding JJ's piercing gaze. But deep down, he knew it wasn't about timing. It was about finding the courage to lay bare his vulnerable heart before you, risking it all for a chance at something more. And the fact that his boss, saw you as his daughter.
You weren’t biologically related to Hotch, but while you attended Georgetown University, you had become Jacks nanny. Hotch was the one who had pushed you to join the FBI and become a profiler. He had become overly protective off you, knowing the dangers of their line of work all too well.
“Is it really because you haven’t found the right moment yet, or is the fact that she is that close to Hotch scaring you off?” JJ watched Spencer carefully, knowing there was more to his hesitation than just timing.
*
All of Spencer’s thought now were consumed by you, he wanted you, he wanted you more than anything he has ever wanted before. “Hey, Spence. Are you okay? It feels like you’ve been avoiding me.” You whispered, there was a hint of sadness in your voice.
"Hey," Spencer replied softly, his heart racing at the sound of your voice. He couldn't bring himself to meet your eyes, afraid that you would see right through him. "I... I've just had a lot on my mind lately."
You moved closer, concern etched on your face. "Is there anything you want to talk about? You know you can always confide in me, right?"
Why did you have to be so friendly, and genuinely nice and caring. “It’s… its nothing. I know I can always talk to you don’t worry, but there isn’t anything to talk to you about right now.” Spencer swallowed hard, the words he longed to say caught in his throat.
“Okay. But if you ever need to talk, I’m here for you.” Your voice was calming to him, it was something he wished he could listen to constantly. As you walked back to your desk, he noticed Emily and JJ glaring at him.
*
You don’t know what time it is, but you hear a light knocking at your door. Before you even start moving towards it, you hear Spencer’s voice, “Hey it’s me.”
Without hesitation, you opened the door to find Spencer standing there, his hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still.
"Spencer, what are you doing here so late?" you asked, trying to ignore the fluttering in your chest at his unexpected visit.
He didn’t answer though, he just moved closer to you. His hand cupped your cheek, making you look directly at him. This is the first time you had seen Spencer this close, you could see how plump his lips, how his hair perfectly framed his face, and how his face looked like it had been created by a Greek god.
Before you knew it, and before you could ask him again what he was doing here, his lips were on yours.
Passionate and intense, his kiss sent a jolt of electricity through you. Spencer's lips were soft yet urgent against yours, as if he had been holding back this desire for far too long. You melted into the kiss, your hands instinctively reaching up to tangle in his hair.
“Do you know how long I have wanted to do that?” Spencer whispered against your lips, his breath warm and sweet. His eyes bore into yours, searching for any sign of rejection or hesitation. But all you could see reflected back at you was longing and raw emotion.
“How long?” is all you could manage to say. Spencer's answer came in the form of another searing kiss, his hands pulling you closer to him. As you melted into his embrace, you started to wonder if he had wanted this as long as you had. But you didn’t really care, you were just happy it was happening now.
As Spencer pulled away from the kiss, all you wanted to do was pull him back into it, you didn’t want the kiss to end. “Which way is your bedroom?” Spencer asked, his voice husky with desire. You raised your arm, and pointed out your bedroom door, and before you could say or do anything else, you felt Spencer pick you up and place you over his shoulder.
"Spencer! Put me down, I can walk!" you giggled, feeling a mix of excitement and shock at his actions.
"I know, but I don't want to take any chances. Besides, I like carrying you around." he replied with a playful smirk.
You had never really thought Spencer would be strong enough to carry you like this. Derek and Hotch certainly looked like they could, but not Spencer. Spencer carried you to your bedroom with ease, though.
As he gently set you down on the bed, a rush of anticipation filled the room. His eyes met yours, a mix of adoration and desire swirling in their depths. “Do you want to know what else I’ve wanted to do to you?” Spencer whispered, his voice low and filled with longing. Without waiting for a response, his lips captured yours again in a fervent kiss that left you breathless.
His hands wondered your body till he found the hem of your pj shorts. “Is it okay if I take these off?” Spencer asked, his eyes searching for your permission. You nodded slowly, your heart pounding in your chest as you gave him the go-ahead.
He slowly pulled down your shorts, revealing your soft skin beneath. Spencer trailed his fingers along your thighs, something he had dreamed off so many times. You felt goosebumps rise on your skin as his touch sent shivers down your spine. He palmed your breasts through your t-shirt, sparking waves of pleasure that left you gasping for air. His lips found your neck, trailing soft kisses that sent desire coursing through your veins.
His hands pulled your t-shirt off you, revealing your bare skin. He paused for a moment, taking you in with a mix of admiration and hunger. His lips moved from your necks and down towards your breasts, kissing each one gently. You arched into him, feeling his tongue traces the outline of your nipple, making you moan softly.
His lips then moved on to your stomach, and finally they found their way to your clit.
His touch was expertly gentle, yet firm, and you could feel his intense focus on you. You let out a string of moans, your body tense with the desire he was unleashing within you. You could feel your arousal building, the intensity of his fingers and lips working their magic on you.
You could feel your orgasm building, the intensity growing with each passing second. It hit you like a tidal wave, waves of pleasure washing over you, your body tensing and then relaxing with each powerful contraction. You cried out, your voice ringing out loud and clear through the room.
You tasted as sweet as he thought you would, but he wanted more. He wanted to feel you around him, he wanted to hear you begging for him. As he drew his fingers out from your damp centre, a satisfied smile graced his lips, he knew he had made a profound impact on you.
Without missing a beat, he rose above you, his eyes scorching into yours, and positioned himself at your entrance. You looked up at him, fear and anticipation dancing in your eyes. He glanced down at your face, reading your emotions, and caressed your cheek.
“Don't worry,” he whispered, aiming to quell those fears gleaming in your gaze. “I'll be gentle, and I'll take care of you.”
You felt his warm, hard length nudging against your entrance, and your breathing hitched. He gently pushed himself inside you, and you felt like he was filling you in a way no one else ever could. Your eyes widened in a mixture of shock and pleasure.
Slowly, he began to move, thrusting into you with a steady rhythm. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into you with each movement. The sensation was indescribable, like fire and ice coursing through your veins.
Your fingers dug into his back, pulling him closer as the pleasure built within you. “Harder, please.” You begged; your voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart.
Spencer, not one to deny you anything, increased his pace, driving into you harder and faster. His eyes locked onto yours, and you could see the raw passion and need reflected back at you.
It wasn't long before the tension within you reached its peak, and you cried out as you collapsed over the edge. Spencer's thrusts grew more intense, and before you knew it, he too was surrendering to the pleasure, the satisfaction of giving you what you've always needed.
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hey hey, ik ur requests are closed so im gonna leave this till u open them back up,
imagine Yakuza Boss!Toji bucking his hips into you, bored out of his mind at his meeting, you’re cute whimpers and whines for him to slow down slightly amusing him as a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, all this happening while his most trusted subordinates watch as he fucks into you at this meeting, while you just sit on his lap babbling about how good he feels until he finally makes you squirt, causing him to stop the meeting and kick everybody out so he can abuse your little hole some more, wanting to see you squirt for him more. :3
I feel like I went a little off script and I threw some Shiu in there too bc we're all sluts for Shiu right?? Bon apetit!
warnings: 18+ MDNI, age gap, possessiveness, slight jealousy, slightly mean toji, dom!toji, exhibitionism, public sex, oral fixation, squirting, daddy!kink, DDLG esque?, pussy spanks.
words: 1.6k
“She shouldn’t be in here.” Shiu comments, his boss gives him a passive stare before looking in your direction. You sit politely with your hands in your lap and a shy smile, looking awkwardly around the room full of terrifying men. “She shouldn’t be listening to the shit we’re discussing.”
“I shouldn’t be listening to this shit, either. What the fuck do I pay you all for?” Toji responds, putting his arm around the back of your seat as he scoffs. “She’s needy, she needs constant attention and I know all you filthy fucks have got your eye on her so I don’t want her out of my sight.”
Shiu groans, but stands to his feet. You feel bad, really, you know what an inconvenience you are but you do try your best to remain demure and out of the way. But he’s right, you’re needy. And to be honest you’re a little afraid. Since you’ve become Toji’s plaything you’ve got a target on your back. You know with all of the security and loyal men at his disposal the odds of anything happening to you are slim. But still, you know it isn’t impossible.
Toji’s second in command leads the meeting in the board room, and you are engaged and silent as he speaks. It’s something about a territory dispute. You don’t fully understand but you know it’s illegal and dangerous. And you begin to whimper as they discuss resorting to violence.
The sound catches Toji’s attention. It seems you’ve been paying more attention than he has. He’s got more money than sense, and that is why he keeps Shiu around. But he can read you like a book. He knows when you’re happy or sad, angry or scared. And now, he sees how hard you’re trying to hold in the fear you feel. He knows what always makes you feel better, though. And he’s bored out of his fucking skull.
He shows no care or consideration for his audience as he lifts you from your seat and into his lap. Shiu stutters a little as he watches Toji manhandle you, your legs spread apart over his own before he touches under your little miniskirt. He smirks, kissing your shoulder when he feels your naked flesh.
“Good girl, no panties, jus’ like I told you.”
He doesn’t see a point to you wearing panties, he told you that after your first encounter. He told you he’d be keeping you around and you were his perfect little girl. And perfect little girls don’t need panties.
“Perfect little girls just need to keep their cunts wet for their daddy’s.” that is what he told you.
Your face flushes with heat when you realise if anyone in the room is brave enough to look they’ll see your dripping little slit. You aren’t sure how brave Toji’s men really are, though. But Toji is bold and uncaring and he knows what he wants. Always.
You gasp, softly, stealing a few gazes from the men in the room. Shiu is busy trying to keep the meeting on track and keep everyone focused. And it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. He knows your pussy like the back of his hand, too. Because Toji loves to show you off. But he’ll never share. But his second in command knows better than most what your cute cunt is capable of. It’s a novelty to him, now. Why would he steal glances when he knows his generous boss will brag about you in private to him?
You fall forwards, little hands slamming against the table top as Toji rams his cock into you without remorse. He holds your hips, pulling you down until the back of your thighs smack against his. His fingers squeeze into your doughy skin, sure to leave bruises as he’s often one to do. Any fear that you’d felt at the thought of the men surrounding you committing acts of violence are a distant memory, now. You’re too busy trying to steady yourself through daddy’s onslaught.
“P-Please, fuck, please… daddy! S-Slow down!” you beg, a smirk sprawls like wildfire across his face as he listens to your desperate pleas.
“No no no, you don’t tell me what to do,” he reminds you. A light slap coming down on your clit as he continues fucking up into you. “Stop thinking, just take it, princess.”
Shiu sighs, his focus wavering as you continue to moan and yelp through Toji’s never ending fucking. He lights a cigarette for himself and then hands one to Toji. He takes a hand away from your hip to bring it to his lips, and Shiu proceeds to light his and then his own.
He continues to speak as if nothing is happening. He’s so calm and collected, but it’s no wonder. Toji is a man he’s known for as long as he can remember and he knows all of the complexities that come with him. Not to say that you are complex. You’re probably the best thing that’s ever happened to him, truthfully. But it isn’t as much of a distraction as it seems to be for the rest of his subordinates.
Toji chortles when he watches Shiu slot his thumb into your mouth, his other hand still holding his cigarette with no care to where the ash lands. The lackeys are even more confused, now, do they share you? Toji isn’t the type to share, no, but he isn’t going to chastise Shiu for doing what he needs to do to get through his meeting.
Besides, you look quite cute sucking on his thumb. He always thinks you look cute when you’re sucking on something, though. You hold onto Shiu’s wrist as you suckle on his thumb. And you hate that he won’t give you any attention, especially when you’re blinking up at him with pretty, wet eyes. Doesn’t he want to admire how cute you’re being for him?
You begin to act up, mewling loudly around his fingers as you try to get him to look at you. But it only ends in another wet slap on your pussy from Toji and a particularly rough cantering of his hips. He pulls you back towards him, your shoulder blades cushioned by his pecs as you’re pulled into him.
Shiu wipes your saliva from his thumb onto his blazer and gives you a passive glance before focusing on the men in the room again. He snaps his fingers in a bid to command their attention.
Toji, however, is fixated on you. His sharp canines ghost over your jugular. Your heart rate quickens and so do the shallow breaths escaping your throat. He silences you, his hand smothers your lips as he continues to nip and bite softly with ease. It’s exciting, and terrifying, because you know he could tear out your throat if he really wanted to.
“Did I just hear you beggin’ for another man’s attention, princess?” he whispers, his large palm pushing your legs further apart before repeatedly slapping down against your firm clit. “Is daddy’s cock ruinin’ you not enough, hah? Because I’ll stop, right now, and you can forget about cumming for a while. A long fucking while, darlin’.”
You muffle your protests through his smothering palm. Of course he’s enough! You got carried away, that’s all. He’s more than enough. You don’t need anyone else’s attention. Just him. Only him.
“Heh, that’s what I thought.” he laughs, harshly, licking a fat stripe up your neck with his wide tongue. Tears spill from your eyes as he continues to pound into you, gritting his teeth with each squeeze and stifled moan he’s suffocating with his hand. He wraps his free hand around your torso and drills upwards into your slippery heat.
Your moans become louder as you reach your peak. He repeatedly nudges your sensitive insides in the most beautiful way and forces you to clench and wince and fucking scream through your nostrils as he drags your orgasm out of you.
And eyes begin to turn white as they roll into the back of your head. Your body turns limp as his touch forces an orgasm from your body. Your body is wracked as you violently shake through it, your cunt squirting all over his lap and onto the floor below. He moans, boisterously at your display.
It doesn’t go unnoticed by the men in the room, either, as the sound of gushing water hits the ground below.
Toji bends you over the desk, carnal desire flooding all sense that he has. He pushes your head down so your cheek is squished against the table. You look up at Shiu, blinking pathetically. And now, you do have his attention. Toji hisses, flipping your skirt up to reveal your plump ass. He has no doubt his men will find it difficult not to look.
“Everyone out, now.” he commands, his men readily jump to their feet and begin to filter out of the room. Shiu stubs his cigarette out on the table top, not even an inch away from your nose and he prepares to leave. “Not you. Stay.” Toji orders. Shiu chuckles, weakly, and takes a seat.
“What do I owe this pleasure?” he asks, tucking your hair behind your ear as he watches your fucked out face continue to swallow Toji’s cock again and again. “Sorry I couldn’t give you any attention, angel. That meeting was a disaster, huh?” he smiles.
“This isn’t your pleasure, Shiu.” Toji informs him. “She jus’ likes it when you watch.”
© 2023 rinitxshi
#💌 — luxe mail#📨 — requests#toji x reader#toji x you#toji smut#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#anime smut#female reader#sub reader#jjk x fem!reader#tw age gap#tw possessiveness#tw jealousy#tw exhibitionism#tw daddy kink
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Maybe the rage deal in the last episode wasn’t JUST “You live but have extreme amounts of rage.” What if they were offered their wildest dreams and the rage was a clause in like microfont bc to them the gifts of achieving their goals and living seems like a great deal especially for children. The rage pushes them to achieve a goal, the rat grinders are KIDS they arnt gonna have crazy outrageous dreams and ambition at 17 years old, I knew nothing when I was that age.
You have a crush on a girl for a couple years and want to catch her attention? Bam. Get more confidence, become buff, get noticed first the first time ever. Oisin was completely unrecognizable before but now after all this?
You hate another rogue so much you want to be better than him? Bam! Kipperlily finds the rogue teacher first AND signs up for the election assuming riz would be the one to do it bc why would Kristen Applebees want to be president? Which could be an event bigger fuel to KLCK’s fire.
You want to be a famous musician and you’re jealous of a bard in school who never goes to class but has what you don’t? Bam! Ruben copies her look and produce music when she’s on hiatus as well as getting signed by her label
Mary Anne’s is small and girly she was probably bullied and wanted to make it stop, so shes now indifferent, and strong enough to stand up for herself, she sees Gorgug on the first day of school get decked in the face jsut to grow into this strong guy and sees him as inspiration
Lucy was content with life, she loved her friends, loved her god and knew the rage wasn’t what she wanted to have to live with. The resurrection is supposed to help them feel fulfilled but she’d just be more unsatisfied with life if she took the offer. Lucy was happy with what she had, and had no further aspirations, she loved her god and 'stuck to her guns'
Buddy dawn a follower of helio, watches the chosen one of his church abandon everything, he’s sad and confused as to why she did what she did. He dies and is offered the chance to become the chosen one for an unnamed god, he’s scared, helio is missing, and if Kristin took an offer from a new god and was okay why wouldn’t he be?
The rat grinders were scared kids who needed a miracle, and one was offered CHILDREN WILL SCREAM FOR HELP UNTIL THEY ARE ARE OFFERED SANCTION, IT DOESN’T MATTER WHO THE SAVIOR IS
#fantasy high#d20 fhjy#dimension 20 fhjy#fhjy ep 16#fhjy#fantasy high junior year#dimension 20#kipperlilly copperkettle#mary ann skuttle#ruben hopclap#lucy frostblade#the high five heros#the rat grinders#the bad kids#dimension twenty#brennan lee mulligan#dropout#dropout tv#fabian seacaster#gorgug thistlespring#kristen applebees#riz gukgak#fig faeth#fantasy high jr year#fantasy high theory#oisin hakinvar
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what if Danny give no fu-ks
Ok hear me out, Dannys obsession has never truest been confirmed by the show itself (that I remember) I've seen a lot of people say his obsession comes from wanting to help / protect people. But what if he feels as though that he is now doing more damage than good, after all there are a lot of people getting hurt as colateral damage from the chases he has to go on. Or simply when he has to run away from getting captured.
What if one night he was up late and saw a post about a tragedy that happened because he slipped up (it wasn't even his fault, but he still blames himself for everything). And then he starts looking at all the bad comments against him ignoring all the good ones saying how much Danny Phantom has helped Amity. Because Danny is still human and confirmation bias is real. Imagine how he felt the moment he realized that he was causing people to get hurt instead of keeping them save.
Image the desperation clawing at him with the realization that he has never been able to fully manage his obsession. it makes him sad, desperate, angry.
His entire self is filled with too many emotions at the sametime he isn't even able to identify them and catalogue them properly like Jazz taught him.
and then everything stops and he feels nothing.
Completely and utterly numb.
Like his whole reason to keep going suddenly disappears.
And it has.
He gave up on his obsession and now he has to make / get a new one.
But it's not that easy.
This drastic change could've ended any ghost as they run on (live off) emotions.
Luckily because he's a Halfa, so that has given him the upper hand. Unfortunately it makes it so that he is completely devoid of any emotion.
Months go by and people immediately notice changes, the more drastic one is that Phantom went missing, and eventually a lot of ghost that where coming in looking for him stop. Amity Park is no longer populated by ghosts, and slowly the GIW started to retreat from Amity going to another place following a lead that says there are more ghost activities up north.
But those changes aren't the only ones noticeable. Dannys classmates and teachers can vouch that Danny has changed. Most say he was always quite , and others say he looked down right depressed. Danny didn't do much in classes not that he paid attention before. Its just this time it seems that its not out of being sleepy or anxious about another ghost attacking the school instead Danny looks like he coundn't give less of a fu-k about anything.
He never smiles anymore not even when his favorite subjects (mechanics and space) are brought up. Not even a quirk of a smile. The school decided to contact his parents about Dannys new behaviors. That includes skipping classes, not handing in work, not doing the assigned work in class ect....
And its not like his parents havent noticed, they've had more time in their hands since they aren't using hours of the day/night going out hunting anymore. and they have witnessed their son become a shell of himself. They don't know what to do, and they don't want to worry Jazz about it because she's at collage and needs to focus on her studies.
So when the school contact them and told them that the behavior is the same in school they decided major changes needed to happen. Starting with a change of environment.
Maddie and Jack decided that Amity park was too big of a city with too many people. They could nearly see the stars at night because of the light pollution, hence they decided to move next door to Alicia, Maddie sister, home in SmallVille.
They decided it was the best choice, Danny would be surrounded by nature and he could do online classes that would go the pace he wanted. The move was immediate, the day off they packed everything sold the house and moved.
They only stopped to say goodbye to Danny's friends. A small bye and hug later they were on a 7 hour road trip to their new home.
When they got there the old resident handed them the keys of the home and told them to ignore the their neighbors 'The Kents' as they often made a lot of noice and had group gatherings every month.
The one thing Jack and Maddie forgot to double check was if the house was an actual house or a farm house. Sounds similar, but completely different as they now had 2 cows, 16 chickens, 1 rooster, and 3 pigs to take care off.
Danny was put on duty of taking care of the animals, such as feeding them on time and making sure they were healthy. Jack and Maddie made more of the heavy weight as to re building broken fences and fixing the questionable roof.
(The first thing Danny did when meeting all the animals was name them. After all this was about all the interaction he was going to do.)
Danny didn't have time to think about his lost obsession or his lack of emotions as he was now too busy making sure each animal was taken care off.
Marcy and linda (the cows) were danny's favorite they were very gentle and he felt that they could understand him when he spoke to them the stories of his vigilante past.
On the other hand The Chickens were a nightmare, Glinda was cool as she never chased him down. But Matilda and Bethany were a nightmarish duo spiteful too when he was seconds late to the finding time. Mark the rooster was chill he mainly acted as of he was part of the group that needed protection.
Marice, Betty, and Miss Piggy were the chillest of the bunch never gave Danny any trouble when feeding them and always made a point that they loved their new mudbath installation that Danny made for them on his first 2 days on the farm.
A month after arriving at the farm house Danny noticed that mark was missing. Danny looked everywhere around the property and saw him from afar, at the road. So Danny did the sensible thing anyone would do when spotting a run away pet, and that is call their name at the top of your lungs whilst running after them.
naturally Mark the escape artist run the opposite direction. By the time Danny caught up to him Danny didn't recognize the house he was infant off. So with Mark comfortably in his arms He swears he can see a smug look on marks face. Danny turned away from the house to start his walk back to the farm, but he was met with a kid his age looking at him with distrust.
"Ehhh look kid Im sorry to have crossed the properties border but Mark here" Danny made a point to acentuate Mark in his arms "Runaway from me this morning and I've been trying to catch him ever since, anyways I need to go feed the girls"
The kid starred at him for a second "OMG your from the new family in Mr.duncans farm right? in Aver ST.?" and wow the kid was like a ray of sunshine.
"Yea-" Danny could even finish his sentence before the kid cut him off by starting to talk a mile a minute about how he was so exited to meet people his age that lived near by and how farm chores were harder that normal house chores.
"Jon, give him time to respond. Im Damian this is Jon" Danny jumped he hadn't noticed the second kid at all
"Oh yeah... sorry about that what's your name?" The kid (Jon) slightly less enthusiasm, a bit embarrassed if his tone of voice was anything to get by.
"Danny, Im 15" he responded before he started walking away after all he did need to get in time to feed the chickens unless he wants to suffer their furry. Danny shuddered at the memory that popped up in his head.
"Wait!!! I just thought we could be friends cause we live close by u know" Jon said catching up with Dannys steps. Damian was following from behind.
"Sure kid I don't care" Dannys voice was monotone much like it had been for months.
"Hey were not kids for your information, Im 14 and Damians 16 soon to be 17, so if anything you night be the actual kid!" Danny chuckled slightly it was more similar to releasing air from his lips than a laugh.
Soon a quite and enjoyable science encompassed the group as they went to Dannys home.
"Hmm... you're hold on Mark is adequate and the your determination for getting home in time for feeding is acceptable" Damian spoke up after a while of the passive silence.
"yeah and what is It to you" Danny was slightly urked by Damians default setting speach. He told him as such.
Jon blanched before erupting into giggles that sent him to lay down on the grass uncontrollably laughing. Damians right eyebrow quirked up in what Danny assumed was amusement.
Thus a new friendship grew that day.
They often gathered at Dannys or Jons yard to have picnic in the weekends (as Damian and Jon has school in Metropolis on week days) and hangout with the animals. Danny found out that Damian was a vegetarian and that he had various animals at home. One time he brought his Great Dane Titus, who bodied Danny on sight to give him kisses.
Also Damian was Damian Wayne as in bruce Wayne, Batman sugar daddy. When he said that, Jons milk flew out of his nose and Damian choked on his cucumber wrap. Even Titus gave him a judgemental stare.
Slowly Danny started to smile more, laugh every so often. And things were feeling so much better after not being able to feel anything for a while.
Jazz, Aunt Alicia and especially Maddie and Jack felt so relived to see that Danny was slowly coming back to them.
Danny to this day backs the fact that Mark knew something and planned the whole thing.
#dc x dp#dpxdc#dp x dc crossover#danny fenton#mark the chicken is definitely a meta with super intelligence
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the responses i’ve seen to shiv’s ending seem very quick to write her off as just another sad victim of the cycle, which isn’t without truth BUT!!! that is not even remotely the summation of shiv’s story.
i don’t think she votes yes to “save kendall” or to try to finally set her brothers free. and i don’t think her main concern was that ken was becoming their dad. she absolutely noticed and didn’t love it, but that was not her motivation in betraying him. she was thinking about herself.
it’s tempting to make a martyr out of her as she is the only female child and we see her suffer the onslaught of misogyny that comes with that. but to make her into a saintlike figure who got beat takes away the power and intelligence behind her decision.
at this point she’s stuck between two non ideal choices, but she recognizes that they have accidentally made her the single most important player in the game. because while she can’t have the outcome she’d prefer, she has the power to decide the fates of everyone else. the written off lone woman now holds in her hands the fate of every man in her life.
so she thinks about the long term benefits of both options and realizes that one side leaves her completely without any leverage.
her brothers have proven to her multiple times in the last few days alone that they will cut her out and walk all over her the first chance they get. siding with them leaves her nothing to bargain with. she would just have to hope that ken would actually take care of her. and that level of vulnerability is not only unacceptable to her, it’s stupid. and shiv fuckin roy is not stupid.
so she thinks about the other side and about what she actually wants for her life. and against her better judgment, it’s becomes unfortunately clear that she wants tom. the way she wants him is not altogether loving or even good but it is necessary to her. she sees relationships as having winners and losers and she chose this man specifically so that she could be confident in her ability to win. except now he’s grown some balls and made himself unavailable to her.
she may not like the way her husband is evolving but she already placed her bets on him, so she’s sure as hell not losing to him now. there’s also a part of her that feels intrigued by this new man she’s married to. it’s interesting to have a sparring partner in him instead of having to looking for excitement outside of their marriage.
so for maybe the first time ever, she processes what tom has said to her and thinks about what he actually wants.
he needs her to prove that she cares. he needs to know that she is capable of sacrifice. if she can’t find it within herself to do this for him, then she will lose him, and by extension, she will lose.
siding with tom gives her the opportunity to once and for all make a grand-stand gesture of love, but more importantly, it creates leverage for her. never again will he be able to hold the moral high ground over her head. never again can he say she doesn’t love him. never again can he call her selfish or uncaring. above all, he can never betray her again, because she just removed all of his moral justification for turning on her. he doesn’t realize it yet, but she’s just taken back all the power in their relationship. just in a more subtle way than she’s used to operating.
and just like that, she has the ceo of a multi billion dollar company in her pocket, while situating herself as the only descendant of logan roy to still be playing the game, having removed her brothers from the equation permanently. she may still be far from the top but she’s creating a path for herself to climb.
so yes, she’ll let tom play king for a day, and she’ll have his baby and say “congratulations,” and play the gracious wife, but tomorrow is a new day with lots of room to maneuver. and when her husband puts out his hand, she’ll place her own on top. but she won’t grasp it because she doesn’t need to.
#🐺#shivy’s gonna be just fine#okay this ended up being a very long post but#i feel like someone needed to point out her wins#also i’m fully aware that remaining in the toxic world of the family business is not a win rly but#i think her ending is being interpreted as powerlessness#which it is NOT#she chose her spot. she’s calling shots#she may not have won today but she sure as hell didn’t lose#let’s not work so hard to sanctify her that we remove everything about her that makes her such a brilliant character#succession#shiv roy#siobhan roy#scn#tv
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don’t lock the door ☆ cs55
genre: fluff, humor, smut, angst, thriller/suspense, mentions of depression, mentions of suicide, mentions of homicide, erotic literature, tragedy
word count: 9k
An oleander is beautiful—yet deadly. You’re beautiful—yet deadly. But Carlos has always been gentle, and has always known how to take care of things he loves. And even if he doesn’t, he’s willing to learn, just for you. But you can’t outrun secrets. Not when they have everything to do with the only thing he adores—you.
nsfw warning under the cut!
18+... fingering, riding, car sex
STOP AND READ:
The story you are about to read is not meant to be admired or looked up to. Regularly, the types of fics that I like to present to all of you are light, humorous, and sweet. While I feel that this story does have occasional glimpses of that, it also deals with heavy topics such as; suicide, depression, and homicide. At the end of the day, I care about all my readers, so if any of you feel like this is not something for you then you are always welcomed to head over to my masterlist for much lighter reads. You all know me by now, so you must know that sometimes I like to mix a story of traditional love with a dash of real life struggles, such as trauma and guilt, in this case. With that, I hope you enjoy word for word.
cherry here!...did you miss me????
Tension is normally one’s enemy. It’s fairly simple, you try your best to avoid what makes your skin crawl. Isn’t that how the story goes?
Not quite.
There’s tension, yes, but it's only because you’re the opposite sex. Nothing beyond that. It could also be because you’re both introduced to each other as a pair of miserable singles. Lewis is the person you share in common.
She’s a close friend, he proclaims as you two shake hands. The touch is sticky, just like hot glue— and for a minute—it feels like a knife cuts this invisible strain in half. He lets himself salivate over your lioness stare; dark, sharp, amorous. You lean towards him just the same; dominant, mature, suggestive.
I’ve seen you race.
He hums, still attached to your desirable touch. Yeah? Why haven’t I seen you then?
Fingers press sternly against his warm skin, as if to provoke him more than he already feels himself falling into. It should be alarming the way his mind slips into a frenzy because of it, but likes it. The rush.
Maybe because I wasn’t rooting for you.
There. Right then, he disconnects. I was hoping that wouldn’t be the case.
You grin. Well, now you know.
“You know what? Mingle—”
“Who says mingle?” you and Carlos question at the same time, judgemental eyes staring coldly.
Lewis blushes. “I-I-Is that not a thing anymore?” Silence. “Fuck, I really am getting old...”
The night consists of mimosas, because according to you, it reminds you of your late-mother. “She liked something fruity, but also fun enough to make her head spin. It was entertaining to watch.”
“How so?”
“She’d ramble on and on. Slurred about her dreams.” A sad smile. “That’s the only reason why I ever found out she wanted to become an author. She was fifty—five decades too old—but she said she wanted one last adventure before retiring. It didn’t even matter if she made it onto the New York Times Best Seller list.”
The way your eyes even out, round and almost doughy, makes him trip for a second because this is not the same girl he shook hands with nearly three hours ago. No, this version of you was almost childlike, but he supposes that's how everyone who loses a parent becomes.
It comes out shy—closed off—your laugh. As if you just caught yourself being too vulnerable. That was always the worst. “Look at me making you my therapist. I have got to stop doing that.”
His mouth opens lamely, ghostly scoff sitting upon his lips. And if it were to be released, it wouldn’t hurt your feelings. It was a weird thing to note. “I like hearing you talk.”
A beat. “We’ve only just met.”
Carlos grins, crinkles tracing the corner of his eyes like some beauty. “Then let's meet some more.”
The opportunity is there, the kind you’ve been looking for. With a sheepish smile, you nod. “I should warn you though, I’m a bit of a mess.”
Finally, the scoff escapes. And like envisioned, you laugh at the sound.
“Consider me warned.”
-
He fucked you that same night in the back of his car. It was late, so dark that you barely even had the chance to register the fact that you squirted all over his vintage Ferrari.
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he pants as he snaps his hips up again, fast motion making you head loll bad. You wonder what he means, but as soon as his long fingers circle your swollen bud, you’re just as good as gone.
He asked you out an hour later, when he dropped you off right in front of your apartment. You happily accepted, unable to hide your excitement.
Your smile falters. “Give me a reason as to why I should say yes.”
“Um, well, you sort of already said…yes?”
The confusion that settles onto his handsome features makes you glow with satisfaction. “I could always change my mind. Pretend this night never even happened.”
Panic rushes harshly against his shoulders. He doesn’t even know why he cares so much, but he does.
Vulnerability is a bitch.
“Huh,” he hums, relaxing against his seat, head hitting the expensive cushion. And you can see it. The challenge. He clicks his tongue, bored all of a sudden. “Listen, I want you, but I certainly don’t need you.”
You realize right there and then—you met your match.
You realize right there and then—you two share the same green pride.
You realize right there and then—
“It was nice getting to know you.”
-
The only reason you’re even friends with someone like Lewis is because your mother married rich.
Filthy fucking rich.
Then, somehow, married richer by her third and last marriage. The man was twisted, but you never knew just how much. Not for a very long time.
He dabbled in stocks, or some boring shit like that, and later invested in some other crap. Somewhere along the line, you met the Brit.
The same Brit who now hisses at you through the phone.
“God damn it, what happened? Weren’t you two getting along?”
You sigh, rubbing your feet together as you admire the way the navy blue paint covers your pedicured nails. Stormy clouds match your mood as you shake the bottle of pills that lay on top of your desk.
“He’s too vain.”
He groans. “You my dear, dear friend, are looking into a mirror then, I suppose.”
A sharp gasp. “Are you insinuating I’m the same?”
“If the shoe fits…”
“May I remind you that you sit and stare at yourself for God knows how long before any race? Newflash, dickhead, you’re going to sweat, look like shit, and one out of ten times, you’re going to win.”
“I see I triggered something.” He sighs heavily. The sound tells you he’s not really upset or anything, but more so worried. Ever since she died, you’ve been that way.
Snappy. Defensive.
“Hey, I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be. I know you.”
And although he can’t see, you still smile fondly. Rattling the bottle of antidepressants, you inch up higher and higher onto your chair until you face your own reflection. Shattered glass stares back at you as you feverishly look down.
“Do you still have an extra pass to this weekend's race?”
-
There had to be something wrong with you. Everyone could tell, and quite frankly, you could agree. Would you admit to it out loud? No, now that’s something different. Or maybe you’re just odd. That would also make sense. Whatever it was, it would explain as to why everyone around you screams with excitement as the fast cars fly by. You, on the other hand, simply stare with straight lips and empty eyes.
While all clap cheerfully when Lewis finishes on the third step, you cross your arms. While everyone runs out of the Mercedes garage to declare front row, you drag your feet slowly to the last.
While Carlos makes eye contact as he lifts his trophy—notably bigger than the Brits—you yawn.
You’re not impressed.
She’s not impressed, the Spaniard remembers thinking to himself as he smiles wider towards the stacks of cameras that turn him temporarily blind. He selfishly thinks you’re here for him, but he knows that's straight bullshit. Truth be told, it didn’t seem like you were here to support your friend either.
“It’s been so long,” Lewis huffs in disbelief as you stare across with vacant eyes. To him, you’re simply jetlagged. “Can you believe it?”
An exhale. “You did good.” Extending your legs outward, you admire the black tiles that shine back brighter than if it were to be white. “Drinks. On me.”
The Brit laughs. “Deal.”
-
Somewhere close by, they play jazz.
“Pretty,” you softly speak as you connect your lips to the glass. The live band sways back and forth, only adding to the charm you seem to like. And you like it a lot. “Dance with me.”
Lewis snickers. “I love you to death, but I’m gonna have to go with no.”
You frown. “Come on. I never ask you for anything.”
“You were born with a golden spoon and have used retinol since you were ten, you’re not allowed to ask for anything when you’ve already had everything.”
“Yeah…well not this.” You’re secretly envious of every lady in the room. The way they beam with sincere smiles at their husbands. Boyfriends? Flings? Affairs? Who cares honestly, you were jealous nonetheless.
The Mercedes driver watches as your fingers lazily tap against your lap, as if signaling you’re free. Guilt slithers down his neck as he sighs in defeat. “Fi–”
“Nice seeing you two here.”
Lewis wants to cry with utter thankfulness as Carlos inches closer with a lousy grin. “Hey! Oh God—hey.” You blink. “Wh-what are you doing here? Not that I’m complaining, of course, because I’m not.”
The Spanirad shrugs. “I won. Wanted to celebrate, I suppose.” Brown eyes flicker towards you like thunder and suddenly you feel naked under his gaze. You swallow. “You look nice.”
And there it is again—tension.
He cocks his head to the side, almost as if waiting for a compliment of your own. Instead, he finds himself being ignored. Crossing your legs, you lift the empty glass up as the bartender hurries for a refill.
Finally, Lewis speaks up. “I think I’m gonna hit the hay—”
“Who says hay?” you and the brunette spit out with snarkiness. You bite back a smile while he releases a chuckle.
The Brit stands up, chugging the rest of his drink as he waves you two off. “I’m not that old,” he shouts as he turns the corner and disappears.
Carlos takes the time to catch up on your appearance. Last time he saw you, you had longer hair, now it appears you’ve had a trim. He likes it. You were slightly tanner, but now appear a shade lighter. It could just be because it’s winter. It's nice seeing other versions of you.
“So, how have you be—”
“Why are you still here?”
He freezes. It takes him a while to find the strength to open his mouth.
“We never finished our conversation.”
-
He didn’t fuck you that night, no, he took you dancing. And maybe that’s why it worked this time around. Instead of taking the time to learn all the different types of moans you have, he took the time to learn all about your upbringing.
I learned how to bike when I turned six. Had severe trust issues for a year, so I tried again when I was seven.
That must be where your scars are from, he thinks to himself, but he finds them endearing.
I like long hair, I find it beautiful, but as soon as it’s starting to grow out I think it looks too weird on me.
That must be why your hair is shorter than he remembers, but he loves it. Has the urge to run his fingers through.
My favorite movie is How Harry Met Sally, but quite frankly, I don't find Harry attractive at all, so I never really understood why Sally settled down with him after so long.
And you’re honest. Brutally honest. And he finds that attractive.
“How about you, Mr. Singapore?”
I learned how to kart before I learned how to bike, actually. I, too, have scars on my hands from small crashes.
You blush as you hide yours beneath your coat.
I have two sisters, so I mainly learned how to dance because of them. I hated it at the time, but now I’m quite grateful.
Is it possible to swoon harder?
And I don’t have a favorite film, necessarily, but I’ve watched How Harry Met Sally, and I would agree. Sally was too good looking for him.
You have to laugh. “Is that so?”
He smiles. “The name Harry sounds so…” He winks cooly before running a hand through his locks. You giggle. “He looks more like a Bob.”
“Oh my God! Could you imagine? How Bob Met Sally?” You pause. “Wait, that actually doesn’t sound half bad…”
He chews on his bottom lip slowly, nodding in agreement. Silence engulfs you two as you stare at each other with round eyes. He’s the first to crack a loopy grin and you quickly follow with a sheepish one. Then, it vanishes and he’s left looking like he swallowed a frog.
“Listen, about last time…”
“Long forgotten.”
He halts, almost surprised by your response. “No, no, there’s no need to pretend, I was a—”
“Jerk?”
The Spaniard rolls his eyes. “Great, so you haven’t forgotten.”
You shrug. “I’m a girl. We remember everything.”
“Got it,” he declares. “Ask me again.”
Now it’s your turn to freeze. “What?”
“Ask me why you should say yes to a date with me.”
“You don’t have to do this, we’re good—”
“I know we are, but I still want you to ask.”
You lick your lip anxiously before relaxing your stiff shoulders. He tilts his head as if urging you and you nod. “Why should I say yes to you?”
Satisfaction settles. “Because you like a good challenge.” He leans closer. “And isn't that what this is?”
-
Carlos Sainz Jr. was made for you.
“Leave me alone,” you scream, veins throbbing, as you rush past him, heading towards the guest room. You’re glad his parents aren’t home at the moment because Lord knows the embarrassment you would feel.
“No. Not until you talk to me.” As simple as that. Your eyes twitch as you turn back, then bring your hands up to your hips. He adores it when you do that, though he probably shouldn’t right now.
“You want to talk?” You let out an unhinged scoff. “Oh, would you look at that, he wants to talk! Now he wants to talk. Well guess what, fuckhead—I don’t.”
With that, you march out into the balcony. His eyes follow the way you light up a cigarette. The way you drink the last drops of champagne that linger in the bottle gifted to you by his mother.
She was kind. She was beautiful. She didn’t deserve someone being this mean to her son.
You barely recognize him because of how blurry your vision is, but his scent does it. Musky. Woody. Calm.
He hands you the familiar pill, then a glass of water. He rushes the champagne away, then takes the cigarette and squashes it against the cold floor. He doesn’t so much call you out for being a lunatic, for upsetting his dogs with all your yelling, or for pushing him. No, he doesn’t do any of that. And you have never been more in love with him than now.
“I know I can be a bit much sometimes…” A sniffle. “I swear I try to catch onto it so you don’t have to deal with any of this, but—”
“You don’t mean it.” He tangles his fingers through your hair as you sob. And it’s soft despite spending the entire day near the ocean. It feels silky. He’s obsessed. “I know you.”
-
You were made for Carlos Sainz Jr.
“How do I look?”
“Like an angel.” He swears he turns bright red when you blow him a kiss. “Your name must’ve been Bonita in another life because look at you…” A hand flies up to clutch onto his heart as he makes a face. “Though, I must say, you do know how to make me look bad.”
You giggle. “Oh? This old thing? I thrifted it. Nice, eh?”
He groans. “Very, but you’re supposed to be rooting for Spain.” A gag. “Not Italy.”
You frown. “That's all I had. Plus, you’re basically Italian given your working status.”
“No, amor, they pay me to like Italy. It’s a cover up, think about it.”
You huff, popping your hip outward. “Still. I like it, so I’m wearing it while cheering for the opposite team.”
“Always over complicating things.” He laughs. “Can’t say I’m surprised, you’re a complicated person.”
A deadpan expression. “Suck your own dick.”
“Oi, relax.”
Spinning to face the mirror, you fix your jersey one last time before skipping out the door, tube socks sliding as you go. The Spaniard lets out a dreamy sigh.
Were you flawless? Not at all.
Were you put together? Not without a prescription.
But he loved figuring it all out with you. And that’s called love.
-
You’re in the middle of a rampage, during dinner. While everyone stares at you puzzled, he simply laughs at your cartoon expressions.
“I mean, I offered!” A pout. “I clearly stated I could get the cap signed for her and she gave me the nastiest, ugliest, dirty-looking glare! I for sure thought her face was permanently damaged.” You relax against the chair, your shaky hand finding its way to your water bottle. “Like sorry for riding your favorite driver…”
Charles laughs nervously. “I don’t think that was a necessary thing to include…”
You shrug, raising your brows over to your boyfriend who struggles to breathe.
The conversation flows easily, like most nights you're all together, but this time there’s a minor bump. You’ve been good about it; avoiding the question for so long. Over the course of time, you’ve managed to be so mendacious, that truly no one knew the truth. Not even Carlos.
“I hope it’s not overstepping, but how did your mum pass?”
He means no harm, Lando, but you just wish so badly that you could believe that. While Carlos and Lewis were the closest thing you have to a family nowadays, even they knew not to ask. You never laid the rules out loud, but they could tell it was an unwanted topic to have on your behalf, no matter how curious they got.
All of a sudden, your mood deteriorates. The look in Lando’s eyes makes sure to strike off as an apology, but you’re so busy looking down onto your lap that you don’t even pinpoint the meaning. The table grows awkward as time ticks by.
No one has the power to change the subject, save you the same way doctors tried to save your mother—because they, too—wonder.
You gulp, feeling small, but far too seen at the same time. It was confusing. “She, um…her last husband…” Everyone feels bad, like you’re some limping puppy, zigzagging down an empty highway, but remain quiet. Then, you look up, stone cold but the tip of your rosy nose and blotchy face is enough reassurance that you still have a beating heart.
“Husband number three strangled her to death.”
You say it like you don’t care. Like it hasn’t affected you at all, and that makes Carlos blink twice as fast as everyone else in the table. A droplet makes its way down your cheek as you let out a light laugh.
“I guess he thought he was some Superior God who had a say in cutting her time short.”
They all freeze.
“I am so sorry for asking—”
“I didn’t need to respond.” You smile lamely. “It’s fine, Lando.”
But it’s not, not even close. They ripped the confession out of your throat, at least that’s what it felt like. No one stepped up, no one said anything.
Your eyes flicker to the only man who makes your heart speed.
He reaches for your hand and you grip it hard.
No one said anything.
Not. Even. Carlos.
-
You’ve always excelled at holding a grudge. It came fairly simple.
But as you stare at him through the screen, for the first time—and only the first time—you struggle. Maybe it’s his puppy eyes that betray you, or his gentleness anytime he steps near you, you don’t really know.
And you don’t want to.
“I was thinking mariscos.”
Hair flies past your eyes as you squint. He looks particularly handsome today, wearing a linen shirt that drapes over him like some silver armor. Long waves brush against his temples as he returns the squint, slightly smiling at your lips.
“Sounds good to me.”
Soft music roams the isolated restaurant that almost seemed to belong to just you two, and that helps you relax. You could tell it helps him too.
“The car felt good today.”
“Yeah?”
He nods, biting onto a piece of shrimp. “Felt like I was flying.”
You let out a whistle. There’s a comfortable silence that lingers for a while before you raise a brow up to the open sky. “Hey,” you start as his orbs flicker up with all the attention in the world. “Do you believe in angels?”
A moment. “I’d say so, yes. Yes, I do.”
Hum. “You sound freakishly sure.” You inch forward with teasing eyes. “Why?”
“Easy.” Chocolate orbs swirl with adoration. “There’s you.”
“I don’t count.”
He frowns. “And why not?”
“Because you love me, of course you’d say that only to be nice.”
“I say so because I know so.”
“Love is blind, love is blind,” you chant, sipping on his open can.
A second ticks by. “Why do you ask?”
And like the first night he met you, your eyes merge into doe eyes. “Because I do.” A sheepish grin. “And sorry to disappoint, but it’s not you.”
“What’s his name?” he jokes.
But you’re not even listening. “My mom was pure. She was a good person, Carlos.” A beat. “She’s my forever angel.”
His heart physically hurts at your glossy eyes, immediately reaching for your hands. “You must really miss her…”
A wet laugh. “Is there a word stronger than ‘really’? If there is, then that would be one way to say it.”
And he has to apologize, even if it’s seven days too late.
“I’m sorry for not stepping in that night. I-I-I should have said something and you should have said nothing.” Thick brows knit in together. “You don’t know how shitty I felt, but—”
“You wanted to know as well.”
The way his features freeze is enough confirmation. And you can't be mad. Not even a little. Not even a lot.
“That doesn’t make you a bad person, Carlos. I should have been more open and honest with you first.” A gust of hot air slaps you across the face. “I tend to shut out people like you because…I don’t know.”
“Vulnerability is a bitch?”
You laugh. “That’s one way to say it.” Orbs scan his beauty with no shame before falling back. “You still have plenty of questions, don’t you?”
“O-of course not.”
Another laugh. “It’s okay. You caught me in a good mood. Go on.”
He’s awkward at first, but slowly eases with the sound of your breathing. “Why hasn’t he been arrested?”
“Because he’s a multi-billionaire.”
He gulps and you blink. “Why haven’t you sued?”
“Because I’m not a multi-billionaire.”
“So…he did a cover up with a wad of cash?”
“Mhm. No one dared ask whose hand shaped bruise was imprinted in her neck.”
He’s caught off guard by your bluntness, but he knows he needs this because he knows it will keep him up the same ways it’s kept him up since that god forbidden dinner.
“This was the cause of your…” He doesn’t even want to finish his sentence.
“Depression…yeah. Losing someone you love will do that to ya.”
But he wants to ask—he wants to ask more because he knows there has to be more. He’s lost people he loves too—and he loved them very much—and he never got this way. In a flash, he feels guilty for comparing his healing process to yours but quickly looks down onto his lap.
And the hot summer rain is enough warning for him not to question you any further.
The Spaniard shares a grateful smile. “Thank you for trusting me. To take care of you, and all t-that,” he stutters, blushing.
“I love you, Carlos.” A beat. “I’ve always trusted you. The only person I don’t trust is myself.”
-
“Be quiet,” she hisses, urgently signaling you closer. “And make sure to shut the door.”
Confused, you hesitantly push until you hear a click. Inching closer to your mom, you slowly become more and more lost as you eye the scattered papers all over your step-dads office table. “What is all this?”
Color drains from her normally youthful face. Even the brightest shade of red can’t help add life. “Proof of embezzlement.”
“What?”
She slides stacks of black folders towards you and you quickly flip through, to which you don’t understand a single thing. “He’s stealing money, that’s what. We’re not talking thousands, we’re talking millions,” she whispers frantically before growing green. “Oh God, I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Okay, okay, hold on, you’re okay.” Rushing to be next to her, you clumsily tie her hair up into a messy ponytail before fanning her with the white sheets. You wince, quickly placing them back down. “How did you even come across this?”
Just as fast as a lighting bolt, she spins the chair. “I’m starting my book—” She gags, “I was supposed to start today, but I came in here looking for his typewriter. You know, the one with the tiny cherubs?” Across the office, you spot it, the tiny angels delicately painted onto the infamous typewriter. You nod. “Well, I started to search for some paper and instead found all of this…”
Even you grow dizzy as you eye the infinite zero’s that jump out against all types of sums. That’s not even enough to spend in ten lifetimes. It was no wonder he just recently made it onto The Forbes list. Her eyes—honest as ever—make you panic as you twirl your thumbs. “Wait…you’re not thinking of confronting him about it, are you?”
“I have to.” Pause. “Right?”
No. You don’t want her to. Not in any scenario. It’s taken you both so long to reach the life you deserve, and now that you were finally here it’s about to be ripped away from you? Your lack of words makes her glare.
“I don’t know why I’m asking you, I have to! It’s the right thing to do.”
Adrenaline. “Mom, just think about it—”
“I did not raise you to be avaricious,” she spits out, fire practically fuming out of her. You flinch. “I’m going to talk to him.”
“Y-you’re right.” There goes all your money down the drain. “I’m with you no matter what.”
Knock knock.
Like mother-daughter, you both freeze as your eyes flicker to the sound.
“Angelica, are you in there?”
You never liked the name Angelica. Not on anyone else that wasn’t your Angelica.
Running over to open, she finds herself face-to-face to Lucifer himself as he cocks his head in humor. “Locking me out of my own office now?” He enters. “Fun.” Dark eyes roam the messy area. “Fun.”
Her eyes plead with you in a language only you both knew, but never did you mean to obey. You wanted to stay with her—something told you to stay with her.
“Honey, give us some privacy, yeah?”
“U-uh…” He winks like that was the go-ahead. Like that was the last permission you needed to agree. And maybe it was.
Deep down it’s almost like you knew he had sinister intentions. Deep down it’s almost like you knew he was capable of committing those sinister intentions.
Deep down.
It’s like you don’t even care.
You smile, tight lipped. “Whatever you need.”
You heard the argument that night, you heard the threats. You heard her pleads, you heard her chokes. You could only imagine what was going on inside, but you were your mothers daughter. You could imagine quite a lot.
She could’ve been an author—with his resources she might just have hit the New York Times Best Seller list. She could have been a grandmother one day—surely your kids would have lived a luxurious life.
She could have been obedient. Why wasn’t she obedient? Was it so hard to brush it all under the rug?
He was sweating, just as much as a pig. Or maybe he’s glowing, he is smiling after all. Here and there he apologizes in a lousy manner, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was—
“How much money am I gonna get to keep?”
He’s intrigued. “How much do you want?”
“Enough to not have to worry.” You can still see it; cramped rooms, tin canned meals on paper plates. You could never go back.
An eye roll. “You’re just like her…” A beat. “Fucking greedy.” You can feel the blood rush to your cheeks. You’re embarrassed—-of course you were—who is he to judge? He sighs. “No.”
“What do you mean no?”
“It means I’m not transferring you anything. I want you out of this house no later than Sunday.”
Plump lips open, then snap shut, teeth gritting. “I’ll tell everyone that you’re a murderer. You’ll lose it all, w-watch.”
He’s not phased. Not even in the slightest. “And who’s going to believe you? Tell me, really, because I’d like to know.”
Fuck him for having everything. Fuck him for having everything. Fuck him for having everything.
And fuck yourself for having nothing at all—again.
Months swept by, the death was ruled a suicide, and antidepressant became your loyal friend. There was no one else, and sometimes you feared there would always be no one else.
Then—by some miracle—there was Carlos.
He was handsome. He was shy. He was sweet. He was kind.
He was rich.
You played hard to get, but so did he. You played the long haul, but so did he. You were a fantastic liar, but he was an ever better believer.
And it all clicked.
Just the way it was supposed to.
-
You’ve been accustomed to a certain lifestyle for years now, but somehow you’re always surprised about the sudden boost you’ve switched to ever since you’ve met him.
Chanel heels turned into red bottoms. Last season dresses turned into those that were not yet released. You loved everything about it.
“You look so beautiful, cariño,” he groans against your lips, desperate for more. His large hands play with the silky fabric, fighting to slide it up against your hips. You shudder. “I mean…come on.”
“Hey, hey—that’s sweet and all—” You push yourself closer to his toned body, immediately feeling his erection. You nearly whimper. “But why don’t you fuck me instead?” A kiss. “You missed me, no?”
And instead—he whimpers. “How dare you even ask?”
With that, he picks you up with ease, pinning you against the wall. You’re dizzy, because unbeknownst to him, he’s casted a spell on you. Never did you think you could fall in love, much less, have someone reciprocate.
Tender fingers make their way to your clit as you lunge forward, biting down onto his shoulder. It should amaze you how he holds you up with one arm, but you’re not. If anything, you leak more and more by every passing second.
His dirty pants make you fold as you clench around him. The way they curl, the way they pulse, all of it was your kryptonite.
“Shit, shit, shit,” you squeal, keeping your eyes trapped shut, feeling the familiar knot forming. He grins, pecking your sweaty forehead, digits speeding up. Berry lips form an O as you moan louder with every push.”I-I’m c-c-close—oh God.”
“Shh. It’s okay, let go for me, yeah? I’m right here with you.”
Gritting your teeth harder, you moan like some pornstar as you finish all around him. Almost like some rule, he desperately sucks his fingers clean. The Spaniard hums like he’s living his biggest dream of all before opening his round eyes.
“So sweet.”
You blush. “Yours tastes like shit.”
He laughs. “And yet you beg for me to finish all over your face, isn’t that so?”
Nearly choking at his bluntness, you fight back a smile as you play with his floppy locks. They’ve grown so much from the last time you saw him, so this was certainly eye candy to you. He sighs, relaxing as you continue to twirl thick strands around your fingers.
Soft legs still drape over his waist, hands still lay around your waist, and even breathing connects you both. Carlos feels like he’s nearly dozing off, but his hand remains firm, preferring to take a bullet than to let you fall.
You like to think that you like his lashes the best. But then there’s his eyes. And his nose. And his heart. And his lips. And his hands. And his sculpture body. And his jokes. And his laugh. And his freckles. So you never could choose, not truly.
Inching closer to his ear, you smirk slowly. “Wanna fuck my mouth?”
His eyes snap open, jaw clenching. “You’re such a tease.”
A shrug. “Want to or not?” You bite your lip, legs letting go of his hips as you slide down. “Because this offer ends in five…” He raises a skeptical brow. “Four…” You motion him closer to which he steadily follows. “Three…” He laughs. “Two, one!”
Sprinting up the stairs in a flash, you giggle as he chases after you. The sound of his steps make your heart beat faster as you jump onto your shared bed. Rushing past the corner, he cocks his head to the side as he clicks his tongue. Stepping into the room carefully, he swung the door closed before locking it. You frown.
“Reassures me that no one will walk in.”
“No one will walk in,” you whisper as your stomach drops. “There’s no need t-to—”
“No, yeah, you’re right,” he agrees, taking in your breathless state. “But I prefer it this way. Just you.” A closer stride. “And me.”
Palms are sweaty. Blood slithers down your throat and thighs. And yet your freeze. You feel hot and cold, all at once. You don’t like the feeling, any of it, but you try to ignore the inner monologue.
“You look stunning,” he states, finally reaching you. “You always do.”
Your speeding heart lessens. “T-thank you.”
A beat. “You’re not nervous—are you?”
Hastily, you shake your head. “N-no! Of course not!”
Thick brows knit together. “Because you normally aren’t.” His smile fades. “W-we don’t have to do anything tonight if you don’t want to, you know that right?”
Physically, you’re cringing. Mentally, you’re spiraling. The act itself makes the Spaniard withdraw, taking a steady step back and shaking his head. Panic rises fast as you crawl closer to him, reaching the end of the bed.
“I just have a lot on my mind, but I want this.” A beat. “I want you.”
It’s as if you’re a blank sheet of paper, blinking up at Carlos with such innocence. So much so, it makes his heart stop. He looks for reassurance, which you give him, and he looks for it again, which you give again without hesitance.
“Come on, Carlitos…” you slowly whisper, batting your eyes. “I know you’ve missed my mouth.”
If you weren’t so breathtaking, if you weren’t so seductive, if you weren’t so goddamn tempting then surely turning you down wouldn’t be an issue. By alas, you’re here—and even better—you’re all his.
“Eres un sueño.” It seems like an eternity passes by before he finally steps close to you once again, getting rid of whatever distance you ever had. Like it was never meant to be there to begin with. “Can I kiss you first?”
It’s sweet that he feels the need to build up to fucking you sore, but sweet nonetheless. That’s one thing you love about him—and there’s a lot to choose from—his respect towards you. Smiling warmly, you extend your arm, inviting him like an angel before he smashes his lips against you like the devil.
The contrast. It’s just what you needed.
“God, I fucking love you.”
“I—” His lips press harsher as he continues marking his territory. All of it was making your head spin like a rollercoaster. “I love you too,” you manage to spit out as he makes his way down. You blush. “I-I-I sort of wanted to…”
He blinks. “Sort of what?”
“Well, you know…” You point towards his hardened cock.
And he actually snickers. “Cat got your tongue today or what, bella?”
A groan. “You’re so fucking annoying—”
“No, no, no,” he cuts in with a whistle. “By all means, go ahead.”
Desperate hands crazily reach out towards his belt in a nanosecond. You should be ashamed how hopeless you are, but you don’t find enough strength to care. Not when he was looking down at you with hungry eyes.
“Tan linda,” he whispered underneath his breath. As if you weren’t meant to hear him. As if he can’t quite believe it’s you he gets to keep. This must all be a dream to him, he thinks.
Just as you’re about to pull his jeans down, large hands get ahold of your wrists. Confused, you look up at him, head tilted and messy hair falling over your shoulder. He grins wickedly.
“Just one more kiss.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Are you kidding me—”
But his soft lips move with such urgency that you don’t even have time to bitch and moan. Not that you’re trying. You can feel it; the hunger, the lust. The way you run your fingers through his hair, or how he squeezes your ass. In a matter of seconds, the room grows steamy, hot breaths expanding with every peck. It’s as if Carlos was too afraid of being ripped away from you even for a second, scared your lips might change and he wouldn’t know a thing about it.
Not knowing you might be his biggest fear.
It happens without a warning, his grip. You feel it slide slowly up your ribs—you remember thinking how much you like it, how much it tickles. Then it reaches your chest, to which his eager hands squeeze your tits, pathetically moaning into your mouth. You can’t help but giggle, but still not separating. And then…
It reaches your neck.
As soon as he squeezes, your eyesight begins to blur, but he doesn’t notice. Your chest begins to rise and fall at an alarming rate, but he doesn’t notice. And you’re terrified.
But he doesn’t notice.
“Carlos,” you whimper, but he takes it as a good sign, mouth moving with ease. “Carlos, honey…”
“Yeah, baby?” His voice is deep. “You like that?” Large palm squeezes harder. “Bet you do.”
“Okay, stop!” you scream, arms flying like some madman. “Let go of me!”
Panicked, he releases you in a hurry, jumping off of your trembling body. Color drains his face as realization hits him, but it's too late. You’re sobbing hard, shoulders bouncing up and down. The way you crawl back with fear makes his heart break as he shakes his head, running a hand against his jaw.
“Fuck.” More cries. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—I am so sorry, baby…” Desperate eyes stare back at you as you hide your face against your shaky hands. “I’m so fucking stupid. I should have known, I should have known.” Inching closer proves to be a mistake when you leap off the bed, throwing a mountain of pillows like daggers.
“Stop it,” you demand. “Stay. Right. There.”
He flinches. “Are you afraid of me?”
The laugh that erupts from your throat is unlike the others he’s heard. It’s almost maniacal. It makes his skin grow with goosebumps. “Is that even a question?” Dark mascara runs down your cheeks as you breathe heavily. “You just tried to kill me.”
“No,” he pronounces. “No, you know that that’s not true. I-I-I thought you’d like it!” The glare you flicker is enough for him to wince, pinching the tip of his nose. “I should have known better, okay? Please, just…calm down.”
All your sniffles come to an end as you freeze. “Are you calling me crazy?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Oh my God.” Pushing your hair back, you release a chuckle. “You actually think I’m crazy.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy, stop putting words into my mouth.”
A scoff. “Okay, wow.”
He doesn’t have a clue as to how he continues to dig himself into a hole—and yet—here he is. Digging his own grave. Exhaling hard, he licks his lips before looking straight into your glossy eyes. “I love you,” he starts, but you remain as still as a statue. “And I want us to work through this. I want to be able to talk to you, yeah?” A beat. “I’m sorry about…what I did, I should have never done it knowing you’re…traumatized.”
He’s almost scared to see your reaction, but it never comes. Instead, you blink hastily, as if you’re mortified.
You should’ve known. You should have figured that karma would catch up to you sooner or later.
I mean, all sins must be paid for, right?
As soon as he starts closing the gap, you’re thumping heart picks right back up. “I just want to talk—”
“No.”
Despite his hurt, he continues his march towards you. “I just want to be near you, please—”
“I said no!”
It happens almost in the blink of an eye, the sound of glass shattering. He sort of thinks he must’ve imagined it, your hand flying to punch the mirror right besides you, but the gentle blood that oozes out of your hand makes his heart stop. Suddenly, all the scars you have make sense. So much makes sense.
“Just…stay there, Carlos,” you say, voice trembling, small hand holding out a piece of sharp glass towards him like some wannabe knife. You bite your bottom lip. “Just—there.”
“Cariño…”
“Stop it with that,” you plead, teardrops slipping. “Stop calling me that.”
Somewhere in the shard, he catches his reflection. Half-scared, half-brokenhearted. He doesn’t even know how you two got to this point.
He gulps. “Okay. I’ll stop, I’ll stop, but please put that down.” You shake your head fast, splotchy cheeks flushing furthermore. Carlos sighs desperately. “Come on—you’re bleeding.”
“I’m used to it by now.”
Tension resurfaces once again between you both as you stare at each other, awaiting for the next challenge. Playing the silent game for a second, curious to see who breaks next.
“Why did you lock the door?”
He almost laughs. “We always shut the door—”
You raise the blade up higher as you begin to lose patience. Deep down, you know you’re not capable of harming him, but how could you ever let your guard down once again when he tried to strangle you to death?
History almost repeats itself, and you’ll be damned if you ever let it happen.
“You said it, we shut it but we never lock it.” A soft cry. “What were you planning on doing to me, Carlos?”
It’s like a knife to the heart, you’re sudden distrust. The brunette finds himself struggling to breath as he blinks like a lost deer.
“You know that I would never hurt you. Not on purpose, at least…”
You let out a wet snarl, shaking your head. “I don’t believe you.”
A flinch. “All of this was a mistake and I adore you.”
“You don’t, though,” you protest, the shaky vision intensifying. “If not you wouldn’t have tried to mur—”
“For the last time, I’m not your step-father!” It’s as if he’s finally reached his breaking point, just now. His body is tired. His mind is tired. Everything is just tired of trying. Carlos shrugs lamely. “If you don’t want to believe me…so be it.”
The pain that rains out of him should be enough for you to know that he’s telling the complete truth. He’s a good guy, with pure intentions. He’s not here to get even with you on your mothers behalf. None of what you’re imagining is true.
But you just can’t seem to understand.
“I don’t believe your lies, alright?” you spit out with deep breaths. You drop the blade, finally. “Open the door.”
With his head hung low, he complies, feet dragging with every step. And finally, with a hand on the knob, he turns to give you one last glance. He can tell you’re holding in your breath and he doesn’t know why it bothers him so much. Why it make him feel so much like a monster…
Click. The wooden door swings open as he pushes it gently.
“Now leave.”
A wave of nausea strikes with your words. “Amor—“
“Stop. Don’t even look at me.” Tension. “I don’t want to see you ever again—not even by accident.”
And that was the last stab that ended it all.
-
Every now and then, he wonders how you are. Hopefully better.
He hears your name mentioned once in a blue moon, but instinctively blocks it out, too disturbed at the thought of what occurred between you two.
What did occur between you two?
He could take a guess and say that you’re internally fucked. Straight and simple.
But it’s still annoying. The way he wishes to forget you with every passing birthday wish.
At first, it was because he missed you. He just wanted to forget you because he missed you—yes.
Later, it was because the memory of the cramped room suffocated him. The sound of glass breaking was stronger than the sound of his car crashing. And somehow the latter seemed better.
He just wanted to forget that day—yes.
Staring off into space has been his thing for a long time, often getting called out on it. Now, he finds himself with his eyes closed, too scared that someone might notice his feelings and feel the need to ask if he’s okay.
He hasn't been. Not since you.
“Grape or watermelon?”
Popping and eye open, he catches a glance of Lewis before rolling over. “I’m good.”
It’s tough, this silent war between both his friends. The break up simply made this…tough. Especially when no one really knows what happened.
Setting the electrolytes down, the Brit claims a spot next to the brunette. Groaning at the unwanted company, Carlos switches to sit upright. Brown eyes glare strongly before Lewis laughs it off.
“How you doin’, bud?”
Great, no yeah, just severely depressed thanks to your so-called friend. Would you mind asking her where she gets her antidepressants from for me? I mean, I would, but last time we saw each other she, uh, I don’t know, tried to stab me? And you know what’s the most fucked up shit? It’s the fact that I still love her just the same.
I just wanted to help.
He forces a shy smile. “Fine.”
A pity grimace. “I can tell she misses you, you know?”
Carlos hates how excited the thought of you alone—dreamily sighing for his return—gets him to sit up straighter, suddenly interested. It’s foolish, really.
“She would never admit it, but I can tell because I know—”
“Her?” The Spaniard lets out a mocking scoff. “Trust me, you don’t. Not entirely.”
That shuts Lewis right up as he sits there, staring blankly. A dark brow furrows. “Listen, I don’t know what happened between you two—not that I need to know—but she’s a good person. And so are you. So…don’t be afraid of reaching out.”
He flickers his brown eyes accusingly. “Why should I? Did she put you up to this?”
“She didn’t—“
But the fact is, the hesitation gives him away. Anger arises as the Spaniard rolls his eyes. “I knew it, God, I knew it!” A second. “I know her.”
The Brit drowns with nervousness as he waves his hands in despair. “She just wants you to apologize!”
A singular laugh. “Apologize for what?” He pauses, squinting at his friend. “She didn’t tell you why we broke up, did she?”
“No.”
“Then you don’t really know who’s fault it was, do you?”
Lewis looks down onto his lap. “No. Not really.”
“Great, then let me be the one to tell you that it was both of ours. I’m no saint but neither is she.”
An award silence lingers as the Spaniards voice echoes the room. Lewis nods. “Understood. I got it, okay?”
He sighs an irregular sigh. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“Don’t worry about it, man.” A sheepish grin. “It’s not my place to fix anything about your guys’ relationship, I get it.”
Carlos’ face switches to bright red as he nods his head once. “T-thanks.”
The Brit, ever happily, stands up firmly before patting his back. “I’m always here if you need to talk.”
“Gracias.” Lewis is just a few steps away when he clears his throat before he can even stop himself from asking. “How’s she doing?”
It came across almost softer than a mumble, and one might have missed it if not alert, but not Lewis.
Spinning to face the almost manchild with round eyes, he smiles as bright as the sun, and that makes his stomach turn. Because he knows. He knows you’re doing—
“Really well.”
Fluffy hair falls down as he tilts his head, clicking his tongue. “That’s good.” Sure. He returns the same smile with a twitch. “That’s really good.”
Lewis has known you two for a long time now. He’s unwillingly memorized your ticks. How the right side of your face slightly twitches before every lie, or how the left side of his does the same before every lie. Much like right now.
The Brit contemplates for a minute, then two, then opens his mouth in the most hesitant manner.
“She’s moving to Germany.” Carlos freezes. “Only for a few months. Maybe a year, who knows. But…you should read her book.”
He unfreezes. “Her what?”
A faint smile. Eyes crinkled. “It’s a tough read, but I believe it was necessary. You know, to finally talk about it.”
-
He never quite believed you would open up this way, and yet here he was, in an unknown bookstore, spacing out. Your name jumps out like some shooting star, too difficult to ignore.
Without a doubt, you’d get a lawsuit from your step-father. Of course—you were only dragging the last name of what seemed to be the world's richest man.
For what it’s worth, Carlos is proud. This must mean you’re open to moving on. To get the necessary help you so desperately need. From start to finish, the pages are enticing. You go into gruesome depth, something you never seemed to have a problem in doing. From the mention of how her eyes remained open with no sign of life, only terror, to the fact that you got your many scars from punching the door, trying to get in on time. How he bribed his way against the laws.
Everything seemed to be coming out.
So then why, as he sits in his driver's room, staring at your picture in the back of the book, does he feel like doesn’t believe it?
Not even a generous half.
-
Angelica lived up to the first five letters of her name.
She was there for you in the moments you needed her the most. She braided your hair for playdates, she tied your shoe laces even when you were too embarrassed to ask, and she worked her way up, making sure you had it all.
Undeniably, she was one hell of a woman. Then again, she had more within her—pulled some trigger you never thought she’d pull.
You were going to lose it all, why couldn’t she foresee that? That conversation was going to rip your inheritance straight from your tight grip; the one that ensured your future vacations. How could she ever betray you? Her own daughter?
You were acquisitive. You were possessive. You were partially responsible for her death.
But call it naiveness, you really thought it’d work.
No one will truly know the way your soul left your body when you heard you wouldn’t get a single dollar. Not even a fucking cent. You had to find some other way to stay secure.
But Carlos was out to get you, you just know he was. You don’t have a clue as to how he found out about the truth, about what happened inside that stupid mansion, but he knew it all. And you had to get out of there.
Only it led you back to square one. With no purpose. With no money. Fuck men and their actions, seriously, too all hell with them.
However, you were your mothers daughter at the end of the day.
You could be a writer. An even better one that she could've ever been. If you wanted to, you could do it.
And that is exactly what you did.
You typed, and typed, and typed until your fingers would cramp up. The multi-billionaire was a leviathan and everyone would see that no matter what.
You, on the other hand, were an innocent bystander. Too weak to intervene, to fight back. Too young. Yeah. That was what happened that night.
But you also had your own perspective. One your mom could never match.
While she married for the illusion of love, you would’ve married for money with no shame. Carlos just happened to be the luckiest of strikes because you got both.
While she always was at the front of the room without having to try, you were always in the back with a bitter smile. Why did she get to have two dimples? All eyes would have surely been on you if you had at least one.
And while she never cared about reaching the New York Times Best Seller list—you did.
She would have jumped with joy just by selling ten copies, but not you. You always wanted more—craved more. Label it as ambition.
More copies sold means more money. A trust fund means more money. Playing the victim against your step-father means even more money. So yeah…
You did care about that stupid list.
Tilting your head back against your seat, you flinch at the taste of the pill, too familiar for your liking, but the wine helps. It always does nowadays.
Buzz.
Picking up with a level of indifference was all fake—you had been yearning this call for what seemed like your whole life.
“Hey.” His voice is almost raw. Like he could use a couple cough drops. “I-I-I read your book. It was incredible.”
And for the first time in a while, you smile. “Thank you, that means a lot, Carlos.”
You can hear the static against the line, indicating once again that you’re on opposite sides of the world and not together. You can almost bet that it will always stay that way.
The Spaniard coughs awkwardly into your ear.
“Oh, and also, congrats on making it onto the New York Times Best Seller.”
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“Oh shit, what’s wrong?”
Steve watches, horrified, as Eddie reaches up with his free hand to swipe at the moisture gathering beneath his eyes.
“Nothing, man,” Eddie croaks, and Steve doesn’t believe him for a moment.
“Did I hurt you? Is the bandage on wrong? Too tight?” Steve becomes aware as he speaks that he’s all but clutching Eddie’s hand in his own and makes a conscious effort to loosen his grip.
This only seems to make things worse; Eddie makes a noise of protest and grabs more tightly to Steve’s hand and then looks twice as mortified as before, and that’s not at all what Steve wants.
Changing Eddie’s bandages is a goddamn ordeal; there are so many of them, and they seem to be everywhere, and Eddie doesn’t have the good drugs anymore, just Tylenol, and he’s always exhausted and sore by the end of it all. Steve doesn’t want to make him feel worse.
He would start fixing it, if he only knew what he’d done.
“Eddie,” he says softly, “please tell me what’s wrong.”
Eddie shakes his head, swiping under his eyes again. “It’s seriously nothing, it’s stupid. It’s just…” he hesitates, and Steve squeezes his hand encouragingly. “It reminded me of my mom, what you did, with the little – like, the little kiss on the bandage when you finished putting it on. She used to do that.”
“Oh – shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, like, overstep, or–”
“You didn’t–”
“I thought it would make you laugh or something, not drag out some sad memory, and–”
“Steve,” Eddie cuts in more firmly, “you didn’t. I’m not fuckin’ sad, it just – kinda hit me weird. That’s all.”
Steve purses his lips, staring up at Eddie from the kitchen floor, where he’s been kneeling in order to work at the bandages. He’s not sure if he should get out of Eddie’s space now, maybe give him a minute to himself, because Eddie is still holding onto his hand, and Steve still has another bandage to change out, and then Eddie rolls his eyes at him.
“Stop looking at me like you ran over my dog, man. I swear to god, I’m fine. It was kinda nice, actually, alright?” Eddie huffs. “Like, I forgot about that, until you did it, so it was– it was kinda nice.”
“Oh,” Steve says.
“Yeah. So do you think we could just…” Eddie gestures at his cheek with his free hand, and Steve nods.
“Yeah, lemme– I’ll finish up.”
The bandage on Eddie’s cheek is the last to change out, and Steve tries to make it quick. He has Eddie hold his hair to the side as he works, mostly to give him something to do with his hands – there are a million hair ties still floating around the house from before Robin cut her hair (Steve finds more every time he vacuums, he swears the things multiply in the dark), but Steve’s found that giving Eddie some kind of task keeps him still while Steve deals with disinfectant and gauze.
He's gotten the process down to something simple and efficient, and it feels like he’s done too soon. Eddie takes a sidelong glance at him when he takes his hands away, though he’s obediently holding still until he’s given the all-clear.
“Done?” he asks.
“Almost, yeah,” Steve says. “One last thing.”
Slowly, in case Eddie wants to pull back, Steve leans in and presses a featherlight kiss to the center of the bandage, holding his breath in shivery anticipation of Eddie’s reaction.
“That alright?” Steve asks quietly.
“Uh.” Eddie drops his hair and turns to look at Steve, eyes wide but dry this time. “Yeah. That’s– Actually, no.” Steve’s stomach drops when Eddie shakes his head, but then Eddie goes on, “I think you should do it one more time. Just, like, to make sure it works.”
“Yeah?” A slow grin curls over Steve’s face as his stomach makes its way back up from where it had landed near his ankles. “I think you’re right. Better safe than sorry.”
Steve leans in again, giving the bandage a quick, gentle peck. Then, because he can’t quite help himself, he presses another kiss to Eddie’s chin. And then, because they’re right there, pink and inviting and slightly parted as Eddie watches Steve with rapt attention, Steve presses one last kiss to his lips.
Eddie barely has time to return it, but he laughs when Steve pulls away. “Pretty sure my mouth was never injured, Steve.”
“You sure?” Steve shoots back.
“I mean– Well, you could check,” Eddie offers.
“Yeah, I could,” Steve says, leaning back in for another kiss – one that he thinks should be much more thorough.
All in the name of proper care, of course.
[Prompt: Kissing your partner's wounds]
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#eddiesteve#stranger things#you don't even wanna know how many versions of this prompt I started and abandoned#this is what I finally ended up with#solar wrote
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"I am here, My Sweet"
I haven't written fanfiction in almost 3 years! So I hope this is good 😊 Enjoy!
Summary: Aegon needs an heir but his cock was left worthless after Rooks Rest. Aemond will have to do...only for duty. Aegon allows it and stays to support his sweet wife.
warnings: smut, talk of scars, the word cripple, sad Aegon
Aegon rested his head back attempting to keep the lids of his eyes open. The weight of them heavy, as was his gaze, which peered down at his sweet wife. The warm cherub cheek rested on his thigh as she lay in a pleasured haze. Soft moans falling from plush petal lips, a testament to her pleasure as they parted more and more, with each thrust.
That pretty wide open mouth, glistening with spit, was so welcoming and so close to his cock. That was left lying limp against his scarred flesh despite all the desire and yearning. There was nothing more Aegon wanted than to take his wife. Feel the warm, wet, love of her cunt squeezing around him. There would be no position, no place, he would not have her. But Aegon could only imagine that it was him fucking into her providing her pleasure.
Aegon kept his violet eyes on hers wanting to take in every moment of her rapture. If they were to drift up any further they would land on Aemond. Who was currently on his knees fucking into her from behind. One hand grasping a plush hip until the flesh seeped between fingers, the other hand pressing down on her spine, keeping her low and arched. The plump of her ass on display to Aemond as he slid deeper and deeper. The sound of flesh echoing off the walls, in Aegons skull, every time Aemond thrust forward.
Aegon's eyes betrayed him as they stole a glance at Aemond they widened before finding their way back to her. Insecurity clawed its way through his chest, his heart, it ached deeper than any wound. There was not much to Aegon before the war. Before he was made King, an accomplishment that was placed upon him, not earned. If he was the second son he would have been cast aside, worthless. Maybe even hidden away by his mother and grandsire never to be seen again, their disgrace.
But he was not. Most days he wishes he was hidden away never to be seen again. By the prying, pitying eyes that watched him struggle and heave himself throughout the halls. All eyes lingering on the scars that danced across half his body. Their crippled King.
Aemond was scarred but not in the same way. The scars covered his body in the same way stars scattered the sky, shining, telling a story. A fighter who commands men in battles, wins wars, and always comes out stronger. A true warrior.
Aegon wanted him gone.
It was on the tip of his tongue “Fuck off Aemond! By order of your King” he would smirk. But he did not. Would not. They needed an heir that he could not provide.
The foul whispers of the keep had made their way to her precious ears. Aegon had wanted their tongues when he was met with his tear-stained wife, her dress, cheeks, and lashes all held the evidence of her sadness. Her voice had spoken to him so tenderly “ Aegon…it is my duty everyone says so...I know so” a weak smile presented on your lips “I want to give you a child, please, and not just for duty.” How could Aegon say no?
The day of their wedding had the same day as his coronation. Aegon could not become King without a Queen. So he was wed to her before they placed the crown atop his head. The following days meant to be spent together as newlyweds was stripped away. The war was pending and the following weeks were hectic, preparing for war, protecting the realm, fighting for a crown Aegon did not want. There was no oppurtunity to put a sweet babe in his wife. And before given the chance Aegon had flown to battle as a drunkard. Gotten burned by Dragon-fire, destroying his cock, stealing away his ultimate pleasure. Left now as a voyeur to his own wife and brother.
When he returned near death it was her who stayed by his side day and night. Proving her unconditional love and devotion to him. Sweet wife, how he grew to adore you. The milk of the poppy daze could not keep him from finding her. Always a bright silhouette on the settee next to the bed, embroidering another intricate work for him to adorn. A gentle and warm smile always welcomed her face as their eyes met. “My love! You are awake..I am so happy.”
“Aegon?” his thoughts were broken by the call of a breathless and sweet voice. He blinked away the memory and imminent tears. As his sight came back into focus, he was met with furrowed brows and doe eyes peering at him, examining him, “Are you here my love?” The squeeze of your fingers on his good thigh caused a jolt of heat to go to his cock which remained soft.
His hand found the soft warmth of her cheek, “I am here my sweet.” Both faces adorned with sweet smiles as she nuzzled into his palm. Eyes never leaving his as she allowed her lips to meet the skin. A tender moment between lovers.
“As am I” Aemond spoke for the first time that night. Ruining the precious moment while throwing a smirk towards Aegon “I hope you did not forget My Queen” Fingers delved deeper into your hip bordering on painful “The duty we must accomplish for Our King. ”
The furrow of her brows asked a silent permission from Aegon, to respond. A slight nod was all she needed. He hoped the side of his thumb was comforting as her shaking voice spoke out “I have not forgotten my duty, good brother, I promise.”
Long white strands of hair fell over her face as Aemond caged in her body with his. The weight was crushing, breath hot against her ear “Good my Queen, I am close and I will breed you well…I promise” His thrust grew rabid the sound of flesh against flesh echoing off the walls. Aemond leered up at Aegon as he held her hips against his and let out a grunt. The duty was done.
A warmth filled her deep within, settling in her belly as tears started to form, it was over. There is nothing she wants more than for Aegon to be the one placing his seed in her womb. Wanting to fulfill her duty as his wife and Queen she took a breath and wiped away the stray tears. Pressing her face further into his thigh wanting to feel him against her and hide the shame.
“You are dismissed, brother.” A heavy breath left Aegon as he forced out the words “Thank you for your service to the Crown.”
Aemond’s lone eye remained focused on your nude body licking the smirk of his lips. “Of course, My King, It was a pleasure.”
Aegon refused to look anywhere besides Aemond until he left the room. There was a tension hanging over the room and it was only broken when the door slammed shut. The sign that they were officially alone and Aemond was gone.
“Wife…come to me.” Aegon strained to open his arms wide making room for her. A groan of pain escaped as she climbed into his arms putting pressure on his healing wounds. He would manage if it allowed her to be close. “I hope it takes…I do not wish to bed your brother again”
“You did not enjoy bedding Aemond the Fierce?....The sounds you made say otherwise dear wife.” He forced himself to smirk, a way of communicating, I am not upset although he was a little hurt. Her brows furrowed and nose scrunced the look eliciting a genuine laugh from him as he pulled her closer.
“I wish it was you ” spoken so gently and quietly “I only want you”
“As do I but unfortunately my cock no longer works,” there was an empty humor to the words, he did not want to upset her.
“It would still be better than Aemonds, I’d bet on it”
Aegon could barely get out a laugh before it was replaced with a gasp. The soft feel of her fingers were on his cock stroking along the rough flesh. The pleasure was dull blocked by the thick layer of scar tissue. A ghost of a touch was all he felt. What he would give to feel it fully. “How does it feel?”
There was a brief pause as Aegon thought over all the different things he could say “Like nothing..”
The soft-touch was gone in an instant. Her hand tucked against her bare chest as if just burned. “I’m sorry I -”
“Do not be” Aegon’s hands came to rest on either side of her face using the pad of his thumb to stroke gently against her warm cheeks. There was a moment of silence as they gazed into each other's eyes waiting for the other to make a move.
“My sweet wife, you love me, I know this. That is something…something I have never had but have always wanted. I love you” his hands dropped from her cheeks to rest on her belly “and I will love our child. As long as you continue to love me, do not feel sorry, this is all I need.” Aegons lips were soft and salty as his tears fell between their shared lips.
Please let me know your thoughts and comments ❤️ It is much appreciated!!
#aegon the second#aegon ii targaryen#aegon x reader x aemond#aegon targaryen x reader#aemond one eye#aemond targaryen#aemond x reader#aegon x reader#aemond targaryen x reader#house of the dragon#hotd#house of the dragon fanfiction#aegon targaryen faniction#aemond targaryen fanfiction#ewan mitchell#ewan mitchell x reader#tom glynn carney#tom glynn carney x reader
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moon signs and what you learned from your mother (raw & uncut)
I’m not a professional astrologer, just an enthusiast. These are possible manifestations of attributes your mother taught you based on your moon sign.
WARNING: this is clear cut, no BS, straight to the point. There’s pros and cons for every moon sign. There’s no way around it.
DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES PLAGIARIZE MY WORK.
Aries Moon: your mother taught you how to fight, how to be resilient, how to depend on yourself and no one else. Your mother probably led with masculine energy. There’s an added layer of aggression in your relationship. She taught you how to be “tough.” You were likely raised by one parent for some reason (I’ve seen this be caused by the death of a parent at a young age or a parent who chooses not to be around due to strained rxship).
Taurus Moon: your mother taught you how to chill. Hard. You probably wanted for nothing. Money, security, stability- you had it all. You know how to eat, sleep, wake up, and do it all again. Maybe your home was uneventful growing up. You know how to make money and spend it just as well. Your mother likely didn’t do much that’s worth noting. She taught you how to work and chill out. This is a very narrow manifestation of this sign.
Gemini Moon: your mother taught you how to blend in to any crowd. You two probably gossiped together. Your mother may have provided the ultimate “How to Be Well Perceived” guide for you. How to hold a conversation with anyone. How to intellectualize emotions rather than actually feeling them. You can think or talk your way out of any situation, which may be a double edged sword as this can and will get you into trouble.
Cancer Moon: your mother taught you how to play the victim. How to become overly sensitized to other people’s emotions and the slightest change in their energies. How to be in touch with your own inner world; how to manipulate or be manipulated. You likely played a motherly role in life, but this is affected by house placements and aspects. Ex. A cancer moon in the 10th house may show their more nurturing side in public, but not so much at home.
Leo Moon: your mother taught you how to be flamboyant; how to prioritize yourself and your own emotions over others; how to lighten up the mood- likely to avoid dealing with heavier subjects. How to be the ✨golden child✨. But also, you as the child might have to step aside so your mom can have the true spotlight. At the end of the day, she comes first in her mind.
Virgo Moon: your mother taught you how to be “helpful,” likely to your own detriment. How to shut your mouth and sacrifice yourself and your well being for your family. How to be an adult from a very young age; you probably didn’t have a childhood. I’ve seen wayyy too many people with this placement parenting their own parents and other peoples kids while they themselves are literal children. Did you raise your mother or did your mother raise you? Your mother likely has no concept of your personal boundaries. If you place any, she’s surprised by the utter audacity. Also (trigger warning: violence) many Virgo moons mother’s are physically abusive. Does your mom randomly slap you when she’s mad? Just know you’re more than a maid or a punching bag. You are a person. I could write a whole book on this placement just based on the pure chaos of it. I’m so sorry. I love you.
Libra Moon: your mother taught you how to keep up with your appearances; that looks and what people think is far more important than any feeling you may experience. She taught you how to be well-liked and how to create a fake personality to keep others comfortable. If you’re feeling sad, you probably just need a new outfit or lipgloss to add an attempted cover to the crap that’s lurking in your subconscious mind.
Scorpio Moon: God help us all. Your mother taught you how to be afraid. Literally. Your baseline is likely fear which is learned directly from the mother. Your mother taught you how to manipulate as you see fit, which of course includes manipulating her as well. This likely goes both ways. You were taught to be emotionally in tune with your mother, with no boundaries or consideration for how you as an individual feel. Trust issues beyond comprehension. But you can’t help it, it’s literally in your blood. Also, love is not possession and control. You need to let that belief go, babe.
Sagittarius Moon: your mother taught you how to ignore anything that isn’t sunshine and rainbows, shut up, and keep it to pushing. Emotions were not a thing in your home. You’d be crazy to feel anything but joy. If you do, you’re considered ungrateful. Your mother was likely distant for some reason. Even if physically present, there was no emotional connection. But hey, at least she taught you new languages and exposed you to different cultures, right?
Capricorn Moon: (signs, “Santa Maria”). No, I am not here as another random person on Tumblr who thinks they know Capricorn moons. I’m here as someone who actually knows Capricorn moons. Your mother taught you how to put on a brave face, work until you can taste your own blood, and don’t stop for even a moment to think of what’s lurking under the surface. If you work really hard, you won’t even have a chance to notice all the baggage you’re carrying around! Anddd you’ll have piles of money to dry any tears that threaten to escape. You probably cry in your closet for complete and total privacy. Or not, maybe that’s just me. You’re taught to be the backbone of the family. Everything would probably collapse without you. But hey, no pressure, right?
Aquarius Moon: your mother taught you how to detach from any and all emotions. Do you even feel what you’re feeling? Or are your emotions solely for research purposes? Asking for a friend. You likely live away from your mother. She may even be on a completely different continent. Your mother is likely your friend at best, and a complete stranger at worst. Your friends are your family. You likely felt the need to escape your family from a young age. Maybe you were even embarrassed of how “weird” your family was. But alas, we can always make our own families out of friends. 💜
Pisces Moon: your mother taught you how to be the victim. Honestly, this might go for all water moons. Just apply that to this whole element. Your relationship with your mother may have been an emotional rollercoaster. Do you ever get off to take breaks? Perhaps your mother took on a more Neptunian approach to your relationship and she’s so emotionally distant you couldn’t catch her if you tried. How’s your sleep schedule? Maybe you sleep to avoid the feelings that are just too hard to deal with. Subliminal meditations are your friend.
I had a blast writing this. Let me know what you think!
RIGHTS RESERVED TO MY BLOG astro-enthusiast . DO NOT COPY, REWRITE, OR PLAGIARIZE MY WORK. DO NOT REPOST MY WORK WITHOUT MY PERMISSION.
#astrology#moon signs#astroblr#astro observations#astro notes#aries#taurus#gemini#cancer#leo#virgo#libra#scorpio#sagittarius#capricorn#aquarius#pisces
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reader finding out that lando only pursued her bc one of his pr team told him to date somebody of her caliber
I love these kinds of tropes
One-Sided Fake Dating (LN4)
Summary: When Y/n has continuously been used for the image that has pristinely been constructed for her and the connections she has through relation to her parents, she has cultivated a dark image on the world, especially on love. However, when Lando comes into her life and shows her what it’s like to be wanted for who you are and not what you can provide, she begins to open up and she begins to explore what it’s like to be loved and to love. Although, nothing is permanent and what happens when the man she had thought to be better than everyone who had previously screwed her over turns out to be worse?
Warnings: angst, language, sexual references, i build this couple up just have them come crashing down, this one’s rough but all my posts are so its ok, family trauma, me being cliche when it comes to making up fake rich last names sorry sue me
Note: it’s a sad ending but AS WE ALL KNOW i cant take those so there will most likely be a part two lmk if yall want to see that
Part 2 link
She hated these things. Galas where men approached her for the last name written on her birth certificate and women fawned over her dress in order to become one step closer to the opportunities only she held access to. A drink in her hand, the little droplets leaking onto the ring adorning her finger, her eyes gazed upon attendees of the party her father had thrown. Men and women dressed to the nines in designer clothing, a rotten feeling manifested in her stomach. It was indescribably cold, something that settled within her and was a stark reminder that, in a room full of people ready to wait on her hand and foot, she was alone. Neither her father nor mother could make her feel any semblance of warmth, not when they exploited the image she had perfectly curated over the span of her life. The perfect, girl-next-door persona had been all she was destined for when she was birthed into the hands of Nick and Amy Winchester, two heirs to two successful oil businesses. Neither of them had truly made the effort to make her feel as though she was destined for more, other than a pawn in their Public Relations game.
She stared at them shortly, studying their faces and the way they moved about the room, wondering whether she had ever truly known them. Her parents were an anomaly, filthy rich and happy as ever. Although, no one ever knew what went on behind doors.
“Y/n Winchester, how lucky I am to finally meet you in person. I’ve heard so many great things.” A voice startled her from her deep mind, turning it back on to the mission at hand, putting on a front that she had everything she ever wanted.
Turning around, her gaze found that of Lando Norris, a man her parents had never shut up about, having been friends with his father and loving the way he so seamlessly fell into what they had always wanted her to be, but she never quite came close. This man was the image of the self-inadequacy she had been forced to feel from the moment she could slightly understand the concept. She despised him.
The fake smile she had flaunted for years graced her face, “Lando Norris, it’s lovely to meet you as well.”
He extended his hand to her, her fingers falling onto the bed of his as he pressed his lips to the back of her palm. The warm pressure spread up her arm and down her body as they held each other’s eyes. Something about the deep greenness of his made her want to know more, made the hatred and envy she had held for him diminish.
“I have to say you’re even more beautiful in person.” He whispered, lowering her hand but not letting go.
A tinge of red wrapped around her cheeks, “Thank you. You’re quite handsome as well.”
The entire thing felt incredibly mysterious. The way he cradled her hand; the way his eyes pierced hers; the way he was so intoxicating and the way she didn’t know why. She wanted more, wanted to know more.
Drowning in the confusion pertaining to her sudden change of feelings toward him, she couldn’t make out what he had been speaking about. As a result he simply stared at her with raised eyebrows, “Y/n, am I boring you already?”
She shook her head with a soft smile, “No, I’m sorry. Just got lost in thought.”
“About me?” He rubuttled quickly. So quick she couldn’t hesitate or think before she began nodding slowly. Her brain had shrunk at the hands of the smell of his cologne and all she could rely on was the years of PR training.
His eyebrows raised further, “Oh? Well, that’s a good sign considering I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you since you walked into the room.”
She choked slightly on her drink, not expecting him to be quite forward, “Sorry?”
He smiled a sinister smile, one that drew her in and made her want to run away all at once, “You’re intoxicating, Y/n.”
She cocked her head, “Is being bold your way of picking up women, Norris?”
He shook his head with a chuckle, “Being bold is my way of trying to make you fall in love with me. The women of my past are nothing like you, Winchester. I never wanted them to fall in love with me, however, with you,” He leaned in closer, “I want you all to myself.”
Pulsing between her legs told her this night would be ending very differently then she originally intended, “Is that so? I have to say, I’m not entirely opposed.”
His lips were centimeters from hers, his hot breath fanning her face, “Good because I was never going to stop until you were.”
—
In the light of the morning, Y/n’s mind ran wild at the consequences of what waking up in bed next to Lando Norris meant. He was known for sleeping around, for playing women and adding notches to his bedpost. Being another one of his past girls wouldn’t go over well for her image, an innocent and pure one that was meticulously portrayed so no one would see her as something inherently sexual.
However, as his arm slung over her waist, she couldn’t find it in herself to truly care. Sure, she was a bit panicked for what her parents would say, but with the memories of the night before and the dull aching between her legs, she knew this wouldn’t be a one time thing.
Throwing caution to the wind wasn’t something she typically did, but maybe she could try just this once.
His arm rustled on her warm skin, his eyelids creaking open as he stared at her, “Morning, Y/n.”
She giggled, “Not a good morning for you, Norris?”
His teeth peaked through in a flirtatious grin, “No, Winchester. It is a very very good morning.”
She turned around, slipping out of his arms and off the bed to pull her dress back on.
“What are you doing?” He asked, a grovel in his voice that made her never want to leave the quiet oasis of his room.
She turned around with a questionable glint in her eyes, “Leaving?”
He shook his head and propped his body up on his elbow, leaning over to grab her hand softly, “No, Y/n. Stay.”
There was a pleading in his eyes, one she had never seen in the media and one she had certainly never seen throughout the time they spent together. It made her give in.
She plopped back in bed next to him, his arm fell around her shoulders and he kissed her temple, “Why are you still in clothes?”
She laughed, thinking he was joking, but his hands over the soft skin of her arms as he pulled it down made the joyous sound dwindle down.
She certainly stopped laughing when his lips started descending down her stomach.
—
A persistent knocking on her door had her groaning and running over, “I’m coming!”
Her hand clutched the door knob, throwing open the door of her apartment near her university's campus, before she was greeted with the sweet image of her boyfriend.
She tilted her head with a soft smile, “Lan? What are you doing here?”
He pushed through the threshold, a nice smell of roses hitting her nose as he turned around to face her in her foyer.
“What’s with the flowers?” She questioned as he just stood there with an innocent smile.
He walked closer, planting a short kiss on her lips before whispering, “Happy three months.”
He held the flowers in between their bodies, continuing to grin at her as the occasion dawned on her.
She wrapped him in a hug, taking the red plant from his hands and kissing his cheek aggressively, “You are so cute! Thank you!”
He followed her further into the apartment as she went to the kitchen to put them in water. Questions flew from her lips, “How’d you know? Were you keeping track? You didn’t do this for our one month or two? Also, I thought we agreed to only celebrate the big ones like six months or a year? Was I supposed to get you something? Oh shit, Lan, I didn’t get you something.”
He giggled at her and shook his head, slithering his arms around her waist and pulling her into him when she was done with the flowers, “No, love, I just got a Snapchat memory that informed me it was three months ago today I asked you to be my girlfriend. I was going to ignore it, but I thought against it when I remembered how lucky I am to have you. I thought I’d just remind you of that.”
She blushed and wrapped her arms around his neck, “You’re sweet.”
“Only for you.” He murmured as she closed the gap between their lips.
At first, Y/n was a bit hesitant with Lando. With his past with women, sleeping around and never holding a commitment, she wondered if he would treat her a priority. Although, she was pleasantly surprised when he started speaking to her, treating her better than any of her ex’s. He was kind and gentle, compassionate, empathetic, understanding, and loving. He was everything and she was beginning to think he was her everything.
They continued kissing in her kitchen before she was reminded of the homework splayed out on the desk in her room, stress riddling her body once more. Lando clocked the tension, letting his hands rub up and down her back soothingly before softly speaking, “You okay, love?”
She tried to nod, but shook her head instead, her face pressing into his chest as she huffed, “No, I’m so stressed.”
Lando frowned, “Why? What’s going on?”
She led him to her room, his hand clutched in hers as she dragged him. When they reached her door, she opened it and he found a messy room drowning in papers and textbooks. The sight of it let alone made him panic.
“Christ,” He murmured. His hand squeezed hers in support as the two stared upon the mess.
Her voice became wobbly as she spoke, “I have so many assignments due and my room is a fucking shit show. I can’t think when it’s like this. It just adds to my stress. I don’t know what to do, Lando. I don’t have time to clean my room, I don’t have time to eat, I don’t have time to sleep. I’m fucking drowning.”
She choked up as her words felt suffocating. Lando was quick to pull her back into him, shushing her and caressing the hair on her head as she sniffled into his shirt. He led her to her bed, sitting her down and letting her lean on him, emotionally and physically. When she calmed down, he whispered into her hair, his lips having kissed multiple times there, “How about you sit at your desk, do what you can of your assignments, and I clean your room. I’ll make it spotless that way you don’t have to worry about it and then I’ll make some dinner, yeah? I can order in from your favorite place or I can make it myself. Whatever you want, baby. But, when your room is clean and the food is ready, you will give yourself a break. Trust me, laying with me on the couch and watching movies before going to bed at a reasonable hour will help you tomorrow so you can get more things done. You will get through this.”
She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with glossy eyes, “You’d clean my room for me?”
He chuckled, hands cradling her face, “Of course, love. I’d do a lot more for you.”
🏎️
Four hours later, Lando had cleaned her entire apartment, ordered her favorite meal from a diner down the street, and plated it on the countertop of her kitchen. He was pleased with himself when he walked into her room, lightly pulled her earphone out and led her back into the kitchen where her face lit up at what he had done. Falling into his arms, she mumbled quick praises of gratitude into his neck, kissing at the skin as a thank you.
The wrinkles in her forehead had loosened by the time they made it to the couch, his legs kicked up as she sprawled out on him. There was quiet conversation of what they would watch before settling on The Holiday, a movie Y/n had loved since the moment she watched it when she was twelve.
As much as she loved it, however, she fell asleep twenty minutes in. Soft intakes of breath alerted Lando of the sleeping girl on him and he decided to stay there. He watched the movie all the way through, scratching her back softly throughout the entire thing. She moved a bit, but never away from him, always closer to him and his heart warmed every time.
When he laid her down in her bed and she whispered for him to stay, there was no argument in his mind. He stayed and he was beginning to think he always would.
—
“What’s your biggest fear?” Lando said into the darkness of the night as they sat in his car.
Y/n thought it over, knowing exactly what it was, but deciding if spilling that to him was appropriate in a five month relationship.
“Spiders.” She replied, fear taking over and forcing her out of what she truly wanted to say.
Lando looked over at her blankly, “What’s your biggest fear, Y/n?”
She laughed, “Spiders, Lan.”
He shook his head, “Tell me the truth, love.”
She exhaled a breath and began, “Going my entire life without making my parents proud.”
Her sentence hung in the air, her words hitting him as he searched for clarification, “You have made them proud, Y/n.”
She scoffed and shook her head as the feeling of Lando’s hand slipping into hers spread throughout her body in a grave reminder that he was there for her, “No, they have never looked at me long enough to see what I’ve tried to achieve and what I have achieved.”
His eyes bore into the side of her face as he listened intently, “No one knows that my parents are not who they portray themselves to be. Sure, they’re in love and they have fun times together, but they never wanted me. I know that, they know that, the staff, and the people they’ve employed to keep our image know that. They had me out of obligation, out of pressure from the outside world to have a child after they got married. I know they never wanted children, they’ve both said it to me before. From the moment I was born, I was not seen as a human or a baby who needed nurturing, I was seen as an object that could warmly slip into the narrative of their lives and compliment the rumors surrounding them. I was never meant to be anything else than their public pride and joy. Privately, I have never meant anything.”
Lando’s fingers grazed over the skin of her cheek, wiping a tear she hadn’t realized was there. He turned her face to his, forcing her eyes to see the love that ran deep for her, and stated so forcefully, “You are so much more than that.”
She stared at him, not knowing what to say to something that had never been reaffirmed in her entire life, and waited for him to continue.
“For them to disregard you that way shows how shallow they are. It has nothing to do with you. You are not nothing. You should’ve never been exploited and made to feel as though you served someone else. You are wanted. I want you, Y/n. That means something. I know it does because I love you and I want you.” He finished, wiping the tears that flowed down her cheeks.
In a broken whisper, “You love me?”
He smiled at her, leaning in and letting his lips rest just beside hers, “From the moment I met you.”
The words brought life back into her body as she softly giggled through the wetness on her cheeks, “I thought you were trying to make me fall in love with you. Didn’t think the plan was for you to fall in love with me too.”
It wasn’t, he thought.
He kissed her, “It’s hard not to fall in love with someone like you. You are my everything, Y/n.”
Right there. His last sentence echoed what had been repeating in her head for months. A person who loved her just as much as she loved them, what a sight.
“I love you too, you know.” She said, loving the way he continued to wipe residual tears and whisper soft words that contradicted the idea engrained in her head that she wasn’t meant for great things, that she wasn’t intelligent or a force to be reckoned with. Single-handedly, unknowingly, Lando changed her narrative and the idea that, once her parents were gone, she was useless.
He nodded, “I know. I wouldn’t change it for the world.”
He wouldn’t, that was the truth. What this relationship was built on, though? He couldn’t bear to utter the words.
Lies.
—
Galas. Something she used to hate, but, with Lando’s hand on her thigh and his jokes in her ear, she began to find fun in them.
“Don’t you think that woman’s dress makes her look like a flamingo?” Lando lowly whispered as he discreetly pointed to someone across the room that had a light pink dress on, ruffled with feathers.
His comparison was spot on and Y/n had to stop herself from snorting out her drink, “Lando! Stop!”
She giggled and he leaned into her, the two a picture of young love. There were others sitting beside them at the table, drinking expensive wine from expensive glasses and observing the famous couple. In the six months they had been together, the public had not ceased to stop talking about the two. Lando had skyrocketed to worldwide fame, larger than what he had possessed before. Y/n being the internet’s it girl, heiress to billion-dollar oil companies and a young woman who had everything everybody else wanted, forced Lando into a large spotlight. There was traction surrounding his name and because of his connection to her, his companies, his career saw an increase in brand deals, income essentially. By just being her boyfriend, everything tied to Lando had exponentially grown. McLaren included. It was everything they had expected.
A little too much wine in one of Lando’s coworkers was dangerous as he blabbered out, “I’m surprised you two are still together!”
There were a few knowing chuckles around the table as everyone eyed each other. Lando gave him a fixed glare, dark and challenging as he tried to plead with the drunk man to stop talking.
Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed as she leaned in, “What do you mean?”
The man threw his hands up as he leaned back in his chair, “Just with the way you two got together, I didn’t think Lando would stick around for this long.”
“Y/n, let’s go.” Lando stood abruptly from the table, his hand in hers as he tried to pull her from the situation.
Y/n shook her head as all eyes stared at her, “No, Lando, what’s he talking about?”
Lando pleaded with her, “Y/n, listen to me. It doesn’t matter. Please. Come with me. Let’s leave.”
She was stuck, wanting to pry into the man’s mind, but seeing the way Lando was begging her to comply.
However, at the end of the day, she was a curious individual.
“Sorry,” She stuck her hand out to smooth down the table cloth, “Can you please elaborate?”
“Y/n-” Lando started, but she just shook her head.
His mind raced as reality dawned on him and the moment where he lost her came to fruition.
Wine sloshed out of his glass as the man drank the last sip before he began, “Lando started dating you because of your last name.”
There was a lingering smile on her lips from previously wanting to keep a happy demeanor at the Gala, but the moment the sentence fell from his lips, it gradually faded.
Lando sat back down beside her and wrapped a hand around her arm, the other on her thigh, and squeezed harshly.
“Y/n, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
The man scoffed, “What are you talking about?! I was there! I was the one who suggested you approach her. I was the one who laid out what would happen to your career if you dated Y/n Winchester. Come on, Lando, don’t be a liar.”
Her heart beat slowly as she scanned the table, the others still sipping on their glasses as they watched the scene play out. Their expressions, lacking shock, made her realize that every person sitting before her knew that Lando’s love for her was a joke. Everyone, but her.
Her head gradually turned to the side, capturing Lando’s eyes with hers. There was still pleading within them, but, this time, he was pleading for her to still love him, for her to not leave him.
To hell with him, she thought.
“Is this true?” She asked, her tone cold and distant as she ripped her arm and leg from his grasp.
He shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face in anxiety, “No, well, kind of. Yes, but- Y/n,” He shot up from his chair as she made a move to leave.
She grabbed her purse which was hung over the back of her chair, her legs making quick strides toward the exit. Lando, being taller than her, walked quickly beside her, spewing out words that now meant nothing to her.
“I’m so sorry, Y/n,” He choked out. She didn’t have to look to know he was crying, “I didn’t know what I was doing. I was half drunk the night we got together, so were you. I always thought you were gorgeous. What I’m trying to say, fuck, is that it was never truly fake for me. You did mean something to me. You mean something to me. Y/n, are you listening to me?”
She threw open the doors to the party, letting the cool air coat the cold blood running through her veins, and whipped around aggressively to face him.
“Did you mean it when you said it?” She yelled, strong front trying desperately to stay up as she crumbled to pieces on the inside.
Lando shook his head in confusion, “When I said what?”
She stopped her foot on the ground, heel threatening to snap under the force, “When you said you loved me! When you said I meant everything to you! When you said I had purpose! Did you mean it?!”
She screamed at him and he stepped closer, but she put a hand up, “Don’t fucking come near me.”
Lando stood helplessly, “Yes, of course, I meant it. Y/n, everything was real for me.”
She cocked her head, “Was it? When did it stop being a ploy for my last name?”
Lando let his head fall to look at the ground, “The morning after we slept together.”
She groaned loudly, tears now falling freely from her cheeks, “Oh! How sweet! So, after you had sex with me, you started truly feeling something for me. If that’s even fucking true. You know, Lando,” She willed his eyes to keep her stare as she yelled, “You’re no better than everybody in there. I told you how I’ve never had anybody be in my life without wanting what comes with having a name like mine. I told you, I confided in you, how much it hurt for a ten word name to mean more than the feelings I have, to mean more than who I am as a person. You’re no better than my father, my mother, and everybody else who has exploited me in the past. Actually!” She continued, not caring that Lando was wiping tears off his face with his white button up, “Actually, you’re worse than all of them. At least, they were obvious with wanting me for the things I could give them. You made me think you loved me. You made me think that you fell in love with me for who I am. You made me think that I was finally being seen as a human being.”
Lando shot back, “I do love you, don’t fucking fight that. Don’t question that. I sure as fuck fell in love with you for who you are and I see you as who you are. Your last name doesn’t mean shit to me, Y/n.”
She hit his chest with her hand, “But, it did! It did, Lando, and that makes this fucking tainted! You’re just like them! You’re just like-”
She broke down into sobs, crying pathetically into his arms as he tried to coax her. The sound of betrayal was evident in the way she cried, a different kind to the one he heard before when her parents dismissed her or someone tried gaining something from her. This betrayal cut deep because of the love that clutched her heart and refused to let go even in the wake of what he had done. This betrayal ruined any semblance of trust she had with the world, demolishing it for anyone that tried to do what he attempted; to love her.
A moment went by, Y/n gathering herself and realizing she laid in the arms of someone she no longer trusted, and she forcefully backed herself away from him. Wiping her tears with his suit jacket, the one a bit too big for her because it was tailored to his frame and the one he had given her earlier in the night when she had grown cold, Y/n stopped meeting his eye.
“Delete my number from your phone. Never fucking talk to me again. You should be fucking ashamed of yourself.” She murmured, turning around and trying to walk down the dark street before Lando reached out to grab her arm.
When he forced her to turn around, his eyes were bloodshot and begging for forgiveness, begging for her, “Y/n, I love you. Please. Please.”
Still, she couldn’t meet his eye, softly and defeatedly whispering, “I will never be able to figure out if you love me for me or love me for what I can give to you. That is why this will never work. That is why you need to let go of my arm and let me go back to my apartment without you. That is why you need to let me go.”
He kept a hold on her arm and on the life he wanted them to have together, “Y/n, I can show you. I can show you how much you mean to me. Please, just give me another chance.”
She shook her head, “Goddamnit, Lando! Let fucking go of me! This is ruined! It will never be the same! You have done the worst possible thing. You have hurt me in the worst possible way. You have treated me the way everyone else has. I am not something you can use because you are greedy.”
He nodded his head intently, “I know. I know that. I always have.”
Fed up and emotionally distraught, Y/n ripped her arm from his hold and no longer did he reach out for her when her last parting words were, “No, you always haven’t. If you always had, you would’ve never approached me and we would’ve never found ourselves here.”
A/N: part 2?
UPDATE: part 2 posted
#mclaren#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagines#lando norris edit#lando smut#lando norris smut#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris#lando norris x you#lando norris fanfiction#lando norris fic#mclaren formula 1
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── ❝ ꒰ 𝑀𝒴 𝐵𝐸𝑆𝑇𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝑁𝐷𝑆 𝐵𝑅𝑂𝑇𝐻𝐸𝑅 𝐼𝑆 𝒯𝐻𝐸 𝒪𝑁𝐸 𝐹𝑂𝑅 𝑀𝐸 .ᐟㅤ ៸៸ ﹙ 이희승 ﹚ ᶻ𐰁
GENRE ៸៸ fluff & angst ៸ oneshot ﹔ SYPNOSIS┆in which you’re in love with your best friends brother .ᐟㅤ ꒰ WORD COUNT﹕4562 ꒱── 𝓦ARNING(S) not edited ៸ kissing ៸ situationships ៸ . ݁ ✦ ݁ . ⊱ LIBRARY . . . ﹕LUNA 💭 —so many sad & negative things have been happening recently:( i hope this cheers u guys up!! ily all vv much<3 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖
THE LATE AFTERNOON SUN HUNG LAZILY IN THE SKY, casting warm golden hues across the suburban streets as you made your way to your best friend jiwon’s house.
the familiar path you’d walked countless times felt different today, each step heavier than the last.
the warmth of the day did little to ease the growing knot of anxiety in your stomach, a feeling that had become all too familiar whenever your thoughts drifted to lee heeseung.
it wasn’t always like this— there was a time when heeseung was just jiwon’s annoying older brother, the one who teased you and her mercilessly whenever you came over.
but as the years passed, those teasing remarks grew sharper, the once playful banter between you morphing into something much more soul crushing.
it seemed like every interaction with heeseung left behind a sting, a reminder that he saw you as nothing more than an annoyance.
you tried to brush it off, convincing yourself constantly to not let it get to you, that his words didn’t matter, that they didn’t affect you. but deep down, that wasn’t true. ── 𝘔𝘖𝘙𝘌 𝘜𝘕𝘋𝘌𝘙 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘊𝘜𝘛 .ᐟㅤ
lately, however, the tension between you had shifted in an even more confusing direction.
the hostility that once defined your relationship with heeseung was now laced with an undercut of something you couldn’t identify.
there were moments when his gaze would linger on you a little too long, or when his usual biting comments softened ever so slightly.
it was in those rare instances that you began to suspect there might be more to your feelings for heeseung than just resentment, and the thought terrified you.
but admitting that was something you don’t think you’d ever be quite ready for.
even as you approached the front door, the echoes of past arguments and cruel remarks entered into your mind.
you thought back to the times heeseung’s words cut deep, leaving behind wounds that never quite healed.
you hated how much they affected you, how much he affected you. and yet, despite everything, there was a part of you that yearned for more than just his cold indifference.
lee jiwon greeted you with her usual bright smile, pulling you into a hug before you could dwell too long on your thoughts.
“eeeek! i’m so glad you’re here! it’s been forever since we had a sleepover,” she exclaimed, her excitement infectious.
you returned her smile, trying to push the anxiety to the back of your mind.
“yeah, it’ll be fun,” you agreed, though your voice lacked its usual enthusiasm.
you didn’t want to dampen jiwon’s spirits, but the thought of being under the same roof as heeseung, knowing how strained things were between you, made it hard to relax.
as you stepped inside, the scent of home-cooked meals and the sight of the familiar living room should have comforted you, but all it did was remind you of the tension that awaited.
your eyes instinctively darted towards the hallway that led to heeseung’s room, and sure enough, you heard it—the muffled thump of heeseungs’ emo rock music vibrating through the walls.
it was a sound you associated with him, never once had you come over without hearing the loud metal beat.
jiwon seemed to notice your distraction and followed your gaze.
“oh.. don’t worry about him,” she said lightly, though there was an undertone of concern in her voice.
“heeseung’s probably heading out soon. lia’s coming over.”
the mention of lia sent an inexplicable pang through your chest. you’d heard about her— who hasn’t? she was beautiful, confident, and seemingly always at heeseung’s side.
the two of them had a complicated relationship, one that was the subject of your towns gossip.
they weren’t officially together, but the way they acted around each other told a different story.
it was a story that made your heart ache, though you could never admit why.
you forced a smile, trying to mask your discomfort.
“right. no big deal,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to jiwon.
but inside, you felt a twinge of something you couldn’t quite describe—something that had been growing ever since you had first heard lia’s name.
you wanted to ignore it, to pretend that whatever was happening between you and heeseung wasn’t real, wasn’t important.
but as the evening wore on and you found yourself glancing toward the hallway, waiting for the inevitable moment when heeseung would appear, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you were in deeper than you ever intended to be. and that terrified you.
as the evening wore on, you and jiwon settled into her room, surrounded by greasy snacks and a half-forgotten romcom playing on the tv.
jiwon’s laughter was a soothing touch to your nerves, but you couldn’t fully shake off the unease.
every now and then, you’d catch yourself glancing at the door, half expecting heeseung to burst in with one of his sarcastic and cocky remarks.
jiwon noticed your distraction and nudged you playfully.
“hmm.. you’re awfully quiet tonight, y/n. something on your mind?”
you hesitated, not wanting to burden her with your thoughts, but jiwon was your best friend—she’d know if you lied.
“i’m just…thinking,” you admitted, your voice soft.
“about.. heeseung?” she asked, her tone teasing, but her eyes searching yours for the truth.
you let out a small sigh. “kind of. it’s just…he always seems to be around, even when he’s not, you know? like, i can’t escape him.”
jiwon’s expression softened, and she reached out to squeeze your hand comfortingly.
“i get it. heeseung can be a pain in the ass— trust me i know, but he’s not all bad. he’s just…different. complicated.”
you raised an eyebrow at her choice of words.
“complicated? that’s one way to put it.”
before jiwon could respond, her phone buzzed with a message. she glanced at the screen and sighed.
“speak of the devil.. lia’s here.”
you swallowed the bitterness rising in your throat and forced a neutral expression.
“i guess heeseung won’t be bothering us tonight, then.”
jiwon smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“yeah, looks like it. but hey, at least we have the place to ourselves.”
you nodded, trying to focus on the positives, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the hallway where heeseung’s room was.
you couldn’t help but wonder what he saw in lia—what made her so special that he kept her close, even if they weren’t officially together.
meanwhile, in the dimly lit chambers of heeseung’s room, heeseung leaned back against the headboard of his bed, staring at the ceiling as the music throbbed around him.
his thoughts were a chaotic mess, a tangled web of frustration, confusion, and something darker that he didn’t care to name.
heeseung wasn’t blind to the way you looked at him—like he was an annoying bug buzzing around your head, one that you couldn’t quite swat away.
and in truth, he enjoyed getting under your skin— there was something oddly satisfying about watching you tense at his remarks, your sharp retorts always leaving him with a smirk on his face.
but lately, he felt that things were different—it wasn’t just about teasing you anymore.
he found himself thinking about you at the oddest times—when he was alone in his room, when he was out with friends, even when he was with lia. it was absolutely maddening.
lia. the thought of her brought a different kind of feeling.
she was everything a guy could possibly want—beautiful, confident, always ready for a good time.
their relationship was simple, uncomplicated, exactly what heeseung needed. or at least, that’s what he told himself.
but as much as lia was a distraction, she wasn’t the one occupying his thoughts at night.
that was you. and it irritated him to no end.
heeseung closed his eyes, trying to drown out the chaos in his mind with the music, but it was no use.
his thoughts kept drifting back to you—your stubbornness, your wittiness, the way you looked at him like you were always one step away from a fight.
and then there was the way you tried to hide your discomfort whenever lia was around, as if it didn’t bother you.
but heeseung saw through it. he saw the way your eyes lingered a little too long when lia was mentioned, the subtle tightening of your jaw.
he hated how much he noticed about you.
the sound of a knock on his door snapped him out of his thoughts.
heeseung sighed, knowing who it was before he even answered.
he got up, crossing the room with a tense state of mind, and opened the door to find lia standing there, a sly smile on her lips.
“hey,” she greeted, her voice smooth as silk.
“miss me?”
heeseung returned her smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“yeah.. always.”
as lia stepped inside, heeseung couldn’t shake the feeling that he was sinking deeper into a situation he couldn’t control.
and the worst part? he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to.
back in jiwon’s room, the laughter and gossip filled conversation eventually gave way to a comfortable silence as you both lay sprawled on the bed, the remnants of your snacks scattered around you.
the movie on the tv had long since been forgotten, but neither of you made the effort to switch it off.
jiwon’s breathing had evened out, signaling that she had drifted off to sleep, but you on the other hand—were wide awake.
your mind was too busy, too restless to find any peace.
all you could think about was the way heeseung’s voice had sounded earlier, muffled through the walls, when lia arrived.
there was something in his tone—something that made your chest tighten in a way that was both familiar and foreign.
you tried to shake it off, reminding yourself that heeseung was nothing more than your best friend’s annoying brother.
but it was no use. the more you tried to ignore it, the more it consumed you.
eventually, you gave up on sleep altogether and slipped out of bed as quietly as possible, careful not to wake jiwon.
the house was eerily silent as you made your way to the kitchen, the only sound the soft buzzing of the refrigerator as you poured yourself a glass of water.
you leaned against the counter, staring out the window into the dark night, eyeing the lit up stars— your thoughts were a swirling mess.
you couldn’t understand why heeseung affected you so much—why he got under your skin in a way no one else did.
and worse, why you cared so much about his relationship with lia.
it wasn’t like you had any right to feel jealous— it was really none of your business, heeseung wasn’t yours, and he never would be.
but as much as you tried to rationalize your feelings, the jealousy gnawed at you, a constant feeling that there was something between you and heeseung, something you couldn’t quite name.
lost in thought, you didn’t hear the soft footsteps behind you until it was too late.
you spun around, nearly dropping the glass in your hand, only to find heeseung standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable.
“what are you doing up? it’s late..” he asked, his voice low, almost hushed.
you tried to steady your racing heart, refusing to let him see how much he’d startled you.
“i could ask you the same thing,” you replied, your tone more defensive than you intended.
heeseung shrugged, his gaze never leaving yours. “couldn’t sleep.”
you wanted to scoff, to throw some sarcastic remark back at him, but the look in his eyes stopped you.
there was something there—something raw and vulnerable that you’d never seen before. it was like the mask he always wore had slipped, just for a moment, and you caught a glimpse of the real heeseung underneath.
“neither could i,” you admitted quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
for a moment, neither of you spoke, the tension between you thick enough to cut with a knife.
you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, intense and searching, as if he was trying to figure out what you were thinking.
and maybe, just maybe, he was feeling the same confusion, the same frustration that had been plaguing you all night.
but before either of you could say anything more, the sound of lia’s voice calling heeseung’s name from down the hall shattered the moment like glass.
heeseung’s expression hardened, the vulnerability gone as quickly as it had appeared.
“i should.. go,” he muttered, turning away before you could respond.
you watched him walk away, your heart heavy with unspoken words and unanswered questions.
and as you stood there, alone in the kitchen, you couldn’t help but wonder if things between you and heeseung had just gotten a whole lot more complicated.
the next morning, you tried to push the events of the night before out of your mind, focusing instead on your plans with jiwon.
but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the image of heeseung standing in the kitchen, the way he’d looked at you as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.
jiwon, ever the observant friend, noticed your distraction but didn’t press you for details.
instead, she dragged you out to meet some friends, hoping a change of scenery would do you good.
one of those friends was choi beomgyu, a mutual acquaintance who’d always been friendly with you but had never crossed the line into anything more.
you liked him—he was sweet, funny, and easy to talk to—but you’d never thought of him as anything other than a friend.
that is, until today.
as the group of you wandered around the city, laughing and joking like old times, you noticed something different in the way beomgyu looked at you.
his usual playful teasing had a new edge to it, something softer, more intimate.
and when he caught you returning his gaze, he smiled in a way that made your heart skip a beat.
you tried to dismiss it, telling yourself it was your imagination, but it was hard to ignore the way beomgyu’s gaze lingered on you, the way he found excuses to be close to you, his arm brushing against yours as you walked side by side.
by the time you all stopped for lunch, the tension between you and beomgyu was at an all time high.
you could feel it every time his knee bumped against yours under the table, every time his fingers ‘accidentally’ brushed yours as you reached for the same dish.
and then there was heeseung, a constant presence in the back of your mind, his face flashing before your eyes whenever beomgyu smiled at you.
you couldn’t help but compare the two—heeseung with his rough edges and sarcastic remarks, beomgyu with his gentle smiles and comforting charm.
they were like the sun and moon, and yet you couldn’t decide which one had a stronger hold on your heart, but in your heart, you knew.
as the day wore on, you found yourself drawn to beomgyu in a way you hadn’t expected.
he was so different from heeseung, so uncomplicated and straightforward— it was refreshing.
with beomgyu, there were no mind games, no hidden or longing glances—just a guy who genuinely liked you for who you were.
but even as you allowed yourself to enjoy beomgyu’s attention, a part of you couldn’t stop thinking about heeseung.
you hated that he occupied so much of your mind, especially when you were with someone as kind and attentive as beomgyu.
it wasn’t fair to him—or to you.
that night, after a long day of trying to ignore your conflicting emotions, you found yourself back in jiwon’s house, your thoughts once again consumed by the two boys who had somehow become the center of your world.
jiwon had gone to bed early, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.
you sat on the edge of the couch, staring at the wall as the events of the day replayed in your mind.
the more you thought about it, the more confused you became.
how had things gotten so complicated? when had heeseung started to matter so much to you? and why, despite everything, did you feel guilty for even considering the possibility of something with beomgyu?
your thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door.
you looked up, surprised, to see heeseung standing there, his expression unreadable.
“can we uh..talk?” he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.
you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and heeseung stepped inside, closing the living room door behind him.
for a moment, neither of you said anything, the tension between you thick and heavy.
finally, heeseung broke the silence.
“i’ve been thinking,” he began, his eyes fixed on the floor, “about last night.”
you felt your heart rate quicken, your pulse pounding in your ears.
“well.. what about it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
heeseung hesitated, his gaze finally meeting yours. there was something in his eyes—something vulnerable and raw that made your chest tighten.
“i didn’t mean to make things weird,” he said, his voice softer now.
“i just…i don’t know how to act around you anymore.”
the confession took you by surprise— heeseung had always been so sure of himself, so confident and assuring.
to see him like this—uncertain and vulnerable—was both unsettling and…comforting in a way.
“neither do i,” you admitted, your voice trembling with the weight of your own confusion.
heeseung took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours.
“it’s just…you’re different, y/n. you’re not like anyone else, and it’s driving me crazy because i don’t know what to do about it.”
your breath caught in your throat, your mind racing as you tried to process his words.
heeseung, the boy who had always seemed to take pleasure in pushing your buttons, was standing in front of you, admitting that he didn’t know how to handle his feelings for you.
before you could respond, heeseung continued, his voice laced with frustration.
“and then there’s lia. she’s…she’s easy, you know? there’s no drama, no complications. but with you…it’s different. everything’s different, and i don’t know how to handle it.”
the mention of lia sent a sharp pain through your chest, but you forced yourself to focus on what heeseung was saying.
he was opening up to you, letting you in, and you couldn’t afford to let your jealousy cloud your judgment.
“what are you trying to say, heeseung?” you asked, your voice shaking with the heaviness of the question.
heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
“i don’t know,” he admitted, his voice cracking with the weight of his own uncertainty.
“all i know is that i can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s driving me crazy because i don’t know what to do about it.”
your heart raced, your emotions a chaotic mess as you tried to make sense of everything heeseung was telling you.
he was admitting to feelings you hadn’t even been sure he was capable of, and it was both exhilarating and terrifying.
but before you could blink— heeseung closed the distance between you in one swift motion, and you quickly realized what was happening.
lee heeseung was… kissing you?
his lips crashed against yours with an intensity that took your breath away.
the kiss was desperate, full of all the feelings you’d both been holding back for so long.
and for a moment, you let yourself get lost in it, the world fading away as you focused on the way heeseung’s lips moved against yours, the way his hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer.
but as quickly as it began, the kiss ended, and heeseung pulled away, his breathing heavy as he stared at you with wide eyes, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just done.
“i’m.. oh my god— i’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice shaky as he took a step back.
“i shouldn’t have done that.”
you quickly shook your head in denial, your mind still reeling from the intensity of the kiss.
“no, hee— don’t apologize. i…heeseung, i don’t know what to say.”
heeseung ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident as he struggled to find the right words.
“i just…i can’t keep pretending like you don’t matter to me, y/n. but i don’t know how to do this. i don’t know how to be with you.”
his admission hit you like a ton of bricks, the weight of his words crashing down on you with a force you weren’t prepared for.
heeseung, the boy who had always seemed so sure of himself, was standing in front of you, admitting that he didn’t know how to handle his feelings for you.
before you could respond, heeseung took another step back, his expression pained as he looked at you with a mix of longing and regret.
“maybe it’s better if i just leave,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
panic surged through you at the thought of him walking away, and before you could stop yourself, you reached out, grabbing his arm to keep him from leaving.
“no, please.. don’t go,” you pleaded, your voice trembling with the intensity of your emotions.
heeseung stared at where your hand clung to his arm, his expression a mix of longing and uncertainty.
when he finally met your eyes, his voice was laced with pain.
"y/n, i... i don't want to hurt you," he murmured, his words trembling as they left his lips.
"but i’m not sure i can be the person you deserve. i don’t know if i can do this."
tears brimmed in your eyes, stinging as you fought to hold them back.
his honesty cut through you, exposing your deepest fear—that you were holding on to something destined to crumble.
being with heeseung was never going to be easy, you knew that—it came with the promise of complications and inevitable heartbreak.
but the thought of letting him go, of never knowing what could have been, felt unbearable.
"i don’t need you to be perfect, heeseung," you whispered, your voice breaking.
"i just need you to be real with me. i need to know if you're willing to try."
for a moment, heeseung’s resolve seemed to waver, his eyes softened— a flicker of something unspoken passing between you.
he seemed to weigh the burden of your words, his silence stretching into what felt like eternity.
finally, he nodded, though the determination in his gaze was shadowed by doubt.
"i’ll try," he said quietly, almost to himself. "i.. don’t know how, but i’ll try."
a fragile hope stirred within you, but it was laced with the lingering ache in your chest.
"that’s all i can ask for," you whispered, though the words felt heavier than before, as if they carried the weight of all your unspoken fears.
heeseung let out a shaky breath, stepping closer until you could feel the warmth of his body just inches away.
his hand reached out, hesitating before tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, the touch so tender that it made your heart tighten.
the gesture felt like a fleeting moment of comfort in a storm that had no end.
"i’m scared," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, each word laced with a vulnerability that threatened to undo you.
"i don’t know how to be with you without breaking something—without breaking you."
you reached up, placing your hand over his, your touch gentle as you looked into his eyes.
“we’ll figure it out together,” you whispered, your voice filled with a quiet assurance.
“we can take it one step at a time.”
heeseung nodded, his eyes softening as he looked at you with a mix of gratitude and admiration, something that made your heart race with the possibilities of what could be.
for a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, the weight of the moment hanging heavy in the air.
and then, without another word, heeseung leaned in, once again— his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was soft, this time gentle and pure, and filled with the promise of something more.
as you kissed him back, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of hope blooming in your chest, a hope that just maybe, things between you and heeseung could be different.
that maybe, despite all the complications and uncertainties, you could find a way to make this work.
but as much as you wanted to believe that, there was still a nagging doubt at the back of your mind—a doubt that whispered that things were never that simple, that there were still so many obstacles standing in your way— like your best friend— and his sister.
and as you pulled back from the kiss, your heart still racing with the intensity of your emotions, you couldn’t help but wonder if you were ready for what laid ahead.
if you were ready to face the challenges that came with being with someone as complicated as lee heeseung.
but as you looked into his eyes, filled with a hint of softness and uncertainty, you knew that you were willing to try.
that no matter how difficult it might be, you were willing to take the risk.
because in the end, heeseung was worth it—and you were ready to fight for whatever future that was held in store for you two.
© won4kiss 2024
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