#i just won’t let myself forgive

[vers-1]

I’m so angry. I can’t for the life of me understand why people do terrible things.

I see these pictures and now that I kno, it’s just disgusting and I wish I finished the job. I wish I did so much worse. I wish you suffered more

[livvyofthelake]

they should never let white boys of the month host snl. tiktok always becomes fucking unbearable for a week. jacob elordi is the mind killer. jacob elordi is the little death that brings obliteration. i will face jacob elordi and permit him to pass over and through me. and when he has gone past i will turn the inner eye to see his path. where jacob elordi has gone there will be nothing. only i will remain.

[chosok-amo]

SHUT UP, STOP IT!

summary. there is nothing better than make-up sex after you and your two lovely boyfriends, GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU. . . having an argument.

wc. 7,6k | [☆] MASTERLIST | part. 1

warning. established relationship, boyfriends! satosugu, petnames, unprotected/raw sex, double penetration, praise kink, anal, mentioned of few round.

you look at geto, noticing the lingering guilt in his eyes. geto’s gaze meets yours, his eyes reflecting the lingering guilt. “come here,” you say softly. when you tell him to come closer, he moves to kneel between your legs, his expression still marked by regret.

as you slip his long hair behind his ear, your touch is gentle and reassuring. “you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself,” you say softly, your voice filled with understanding. “i know you care deeply, and that’s why this hurts. but you’re not alone in this.”

geto's shoulders slump at your words, the weight of his guilt visibly lessening. his eyes stay fixed on yours, the regret in them slowly being replaced by a soft vulnerability.

he leans into your touch, his head tilting slightly involuntarily at the touch of your fingers to his hair. “i know,” he mutters, his voice still heavy with guilt. “i just wish i hadn't let it get this bad.” geto’s voice is soft, the regret and guilt audible in it. “i just… i just can’t forgive myself for causing you pain,” he murmurs, his voice strained.

you give him a reassuring smile, your voice gentle. “i’m not in pain anymore, so you can stop feeling guilty,” you say softly. “we’ve talked things out, and we’re moving forward. it’s okay to let go of that guilt now. we’re okay.”

geto’s eyes search yours, the guilt still visible but diminishing by the second. he nods slowly, his expression taut but hopeful. he speaks softly, his voice still laced slightly with regret. “i know. but i just… it’s hard to shake this feeling, you know? it’s like a knot in my chest that won’t loosen.”

so you lean down and gently kiss his chest, then move to his neck and jaw, your touch tender and soothing. each kiss is a silent reassurance, conveying that you're okay now and that you're not mad at him anymore. your actions are meant to comfort and ease the lingering regret he feels, showing him through your touch that things are healing.

his breath hitches at the feel of your lips on his chest, his body tensing for a brief moment before melting into your touch. each press of your lips sends waves of comfort through him, the knot in his chest loosening with every gentle kiss. he wraps his arms around your back, pulling you closer, his grip tight and unyielding. when your lips reach his jaw, he tilts his head to give you better access, his eyes fluttering shut.

you pull away slightly, your hands still resting gently on his shoulders. you look into his eyes with a soft, reassuring gaze. “don’t feel guilty anymore,” you say gently. “we’re okay. let go of that weight you’re carrying. we’re moving forward together.” his eyes open slowly, meeting yours. the guilt in his eyes has lessened even more, replaced by a deep vulnerability and newfound trust. he nods slowly, his hands gently pulling you even closer to him.

he leans his forehead against yours, his voice soft and sincere. “i’m trying, i promise,” he murmurs. “i’m trying to let it go. it’s just… it’s just hard, sometimes.” you let out a sight. geto suguru can be stubborn when he wants to.

“shut up, stop it,” you softly murmur. you gently move your hands from his shoulders to his neck, guiding him closer. “come here,” you whisper softly, pulling him towards you until your lips touch his. he smiles faintly at your soft command, his body willingly moved closer to yours. he doesn’t protest when you gently pull him closer, his eyes closing instinctively as your lips meet his.

the kiss starts slow and hesitant, his body tense against yours as if he’s expecting you to pull away at any second. but gradually, his lips soften, the tension in his body melting away as he surrenders to the tender connection. as geto continues to lean towards you, your back gently presses against gojo’s firm chest. gojo's arms instinctively wrap around you from behind, his presence a comforting anchor as you and geto share a tender kiss. the closeness between all three of you creates a cocoon of warmth and reassurance.

with you snuggled between them, their bodies pressed closely against yours, a sense of security washes over you. gojo’s firm chest supports your back, while geto’s muscular arms hold you firmly in place, trapping you in a comforting embrace. the kiss between you and geto deepens, the heat between you slowly building, while gojo’s hands gently caresses your sides and lower back.

the kiss continues, geto’s actions growing bolder with each passing moment. his mouth becomes more urgent, his hands gripping you tighter and pulling you closer to him, like he’s desperate to make up for lost time. you let out a soft moan in his lips.

the sound of your soft moan in his lips triggers something inside of him. he deepens the kiss, his mouth growing more eager against yours, while his hands grip you even tighter, pulling you as closely as possible against him. gojo’s hands on your sides and backside continue to caress you, his own lips slowly finding their way to your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

the combined sensations of geto’s lips on yours and gojo’s lips on your neck send shivers down your spine, your senses overwhelmed by the dual assault of their mouths. the three of you are a tangle of limbs and sensations, the heat between you growing with each passing second. geto’s tongue gently probes your lips, seeking entry into your mouth, as gojo’s lips find a sensitive spot on your neck, his teeth gently nipping at your skin.

your soft moans and gasps between them only seem to fuel their desire, their mouths growing more demanding and insistent. geto’s tongue gently explores your mouth, while gojo’s lips continue to trace a path of kisses and nips down your neck. gojo’s hands on your sides become even more possessive, each touch leaving a trail of heat on your skin.

gojo’s lips on your neck are now firmer, his kisses turning into soft bites, his teeth gently nipping and worrying the sensitive skin. his hands remain firmly on your sides, while his fingers occasionally digging into your flesh, claiming ownership.

geto’s tongue dances in your mouth, his kisses growing more insistent, as if he’s desperate to taste as much of you as possible. his hands, meanwhile, have found their way to the underside of your thighs, slowly pulling them apart. geto pulls away from your lips to go down to your cheeks, to your jaw and giving it a soft bite before it lands to another side of your neck.

his mouth on your neck feels as skilled as gojo’s, leaving a trail of heat and desire in its wake. his teeth gently nibble at your skin before his lips find the sensitive area behind your ear, his breath hot against it. gojo’s lips, meanwhile, have moved to the other side of your neck, his hands sliding under your shirt in search of skin, his touch deliberate and possessive. you turn your head to gojo, hunger for his lips also— the lips you haven't been kissed for a weeks.

gojo senses your turn towards him, his eyes meeting yours as his hands under your shirt pause. a faint smile tugs at his lips before he claims your mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. his lips move against yours urgently, his tongue quickly slipping into your mouth as one hand on your side moves to your chin, tilting your head back slightly to deepen the kiss even further.

gojo’s kiss is frantic and possessive, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth as if he’s desperate to reclaim what he’d been forced to give up for the past two weeks. his hand on your chin holds your head in place, his grip firm but not uncomfortable, while his other hand under your shirt slowly moves up, caressing your bare stomach.

geto’s mouth continues its assault on the other side of your neck, his teeth and lips leaving a trail of heat and want across your flesh. but his hands remain on your thighs, slowly spreading them apart, his fingers gently digging into your skin.

geto’s mouth leaves a scorching path along your neck, his teeth and lips claiming every inch of your skin with a mix of possessiveness and desperation. his hands, gripping your thighs so tightly, gradually spread your legs apart, his fingers digging softly into your flesh as he positions himself between them.

he mutters softly against your skin, his breath hot and urgent, “god, i’ve missed this. missed feeling you like this.” meanwhile, gojo’s kisses have become even more hungry, his tongue exploring every corner of your mouth as if he’s trying to make up for the time he’s lost. his hand on your stomach moves upward, closer to your chest, his fingers gently tracing the outlines of your curves.

gojo’s tongue explores your mouth urgently, each stroke of it sending waves of heat through your body. his hand on your stomach ascends up to your chest, his fingers tracing the contours of your curves, mapping out every dip and rise of your body. he breaks the kiss, his lips moving down to your neck, his voice low and raw with desire. “i’ve missed the taste of you.”

as gojo’s lips find a sensitive spot on your neck, geto resumes the attention to your collarbone, his teeth gently nibbling on the skin. his hands continue to grip your thighs, holding you in place, his touch both gentle but firm and unyieldingly possessive. gojo’s lips make their way to your ear, his warm breath against the shell sending shivers down your spine. “god, I’ve missed the sound of your moans,” he mutters, his voice rough with longing.

your moans in response to his words only seem to fuel gojo’s fire further. his lips find their way back to your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin with a little more force, while one hand gently cups your breast, his touch both claiming and gentle. geto, meanwhile, moves his attention to your jaw, his kisses becoming more urgent as he nips and sucks at the soft skin. his hands on your thighs gently spread them further apart, his grip unyielding but not harsh.

while gojo’s tongue draws a path of heat across your neck, geto’s mouth travels to the curve of your shoulder, his teeth and lips leaving a trail of wet kisses in its wake. one of his hands gently guides your thigh around his waist, as he presses himself closer to you, his body flush against yours. gojo’s lips find their way back to your ear, his voice a low, urgent whisper. “i need to taste you, god i need to taste you.”

you moan, letting your head fall back to his shoulder for a second. “i need you,” you murmur between your moan. your hands digging into their skins, desperate for them. the sound of your moan and your desperate words seem to ignite a fire within both of them.

gojo’s grip on your body tightens, his body pressing closer against you as if he’s desperate to mold himself against you. his voice is low and gravelly, filled with need. “god, baby, the way you sound…”

geto’s breath against your skin is warm and heavy, his body shuddering slightly as he presses himself against you, his hands gripping your thigh even tighter. “say it again,” he mutters, his voice strained. “say you need us.”

your eyes fluster open as you look at them. they can see a little bit of your saliva escape from the corner of your lips. “i need you,” you repeat, whimpering as if you're pleading to them. “please..” you puff a breathless moan.

the sight of you, breathless and pleading, your eyes heavy with desire and need, sends a ripple of heat through both of them. gojo’s eyes dart between yours, his breath coming in short gasps. he cups your face in his hand, his thumb gently wiping the saliva from the corner of your mouth. his voice is low and gravelly when he speaks, “we can’t say no when you beg like that.”

geto, meanwhile, lets out a low growl, his body shuddering against you, his hands gripping your thigh in a possessive grip. gojo’s lips find their way back to your neck, his kisses a mixture of soft and hungry, while geto’s mouth makes a trail of soft bites and kisses down your collarbone, his hands slowly pulling at the edges of your shirt.

“i need to feel your skin on mine,” gojo mutters between kisses, his voice strained with restraint. “i need to feel all of you.”

gojo quickly pulls your shirt off over your head before flinging it away, his eyes drinking in the sight of your bare skin. his hands gently glide over your chest, the touch of his fingers leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

both of them work together to divest you of the rest of your clothes, leaving you bare and vulnerable beneath them. but there is no shame in being seen like this by them— only a deep sense of trust and safety. you know they would never do anything to hurt you.

“you’re so beautiful like this,” gojo murmurs, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, feeling them harden under his touch. geto hums in agreement, nipping lightly at your earlobe before trailing open-mouthed kisses down your neck.

at the same time, geto pulls away and his eyes roam across your body, his gaze heavy and hungry. he sits back slightly, his hands slowly sliding your skirt up, revealing your underwear.

geto’s hands on your thigh slowly slide to the front, his fingers gently tracing the edge of your underwear. “can we take this off?” geto’s voice is a low, strained question. “god, we need to see all of you.”

you nod, “yes.”

they need no further persuasion.

gojo’s hands continue to explore your body, his fingers gently tracing each dip and rise of your skin. his lips return to your neck, his mouth hot and hungry against your skin.

“you’re so beautiful,” he mutters between kisses. “so damn beautiful.”

geto, meanwhile, slowly peels your skirt off, his fingers trailing across your thighs in the process. his eyes never leave you, his gaze a mix of desire and awe. once your skirt is off, his hands move back to your thighs, his grip gentle but unyieldingly possessive.

geto leans forward, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, right above where your legs meet. his hands slip underneath your panties, slowly pushing them down until they fall away completely. he looks up at you then, his eyes dark with lust as he takes in the sight of your bare pussy.

gojo, for his part, continues to worship your neck and shoulders with his mouth, his hands moving lower to cup your breasts, squeezing gently. his thumbs brush over your hardened nipples, causing you to gasp and arch into his touch. geto’s mouth finally descends upon your pussy, his tongue lapping at your folds before delving inside you. he groans around you, the vibrations sending shocks of pleasure through your entire body.

gojo, meanwhile, lifts one of your breasts into his mouth, sucking gently on the nipple while rolling the other between his thumb and forefinger. his free hand moves down to join geto’s, his fingers joining in on the pleasuring of your clit.

the sensation of two sets of hands and mouths working in tandem on your body is overwhelming, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

“oh god—” the air got knocked out of your lung. your one hand gripped tightly on the edge of the couch underneath you while the other held to gojo's neck. gojo smiles against your breast, the curve of his lips evident even as he continues to suckle at your nipple. his fingers pinch and roll the other, sending jolts of electricity straight to your core.

geto doubles his efforts, his tongue swirling around your clit before plunging back inside you. he sucks hard on the bundle of nerves, his nose nudging against your clit with each thrust of his tongue.

your hips buck involuntarily, grinding yourself harder against geto’s face. you can feel your orgasm building rapidly, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter with each passing second. you let out a strangled moan, your nails digging into gojo’s shoulder.

“that’s it baby,” gojo coos, his voice vibrating against your skin. “let go.”

“i miss your taste so much, baby,” geto murmur on your fold, sending a jolt of vibration through your body. as you sinking more to his chest, gojo can feel your body trembling in front of him. gojo releases your breast with a pop, his eyes locking onto yours as he watches you come undone. “come on, sweetheart,” he urges, his voice dripping with affection and desire, “let us have you.”

at the same moment, geto surges forward, his mouth closing over your clit in a fierce suction. his tongue lashes at the sensitive bud as he devours you whole, swallowing your cries of ecstasy. “oh. . . suguru— please..” another moan tear from your throat, filling the air in your living room.

the dual assault proves too much, and you shatter apart, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. your body convulses, your juices flooding geto's eager mouth as he drinks you in greedily.

gojo catches you as you slump against him, cradling you close as he peppers your neck and jaw with soft kisses. “that's it, baby,” he whispers, his voice filled with pride and adoration. “you're so fucking perfect.” as you come down from your high, geto pulls back with a satisfied hum, his mouth glistening wetly. he laps at your folds once more, cleaning you thoroughly before pulling away entirely.

gojo, still holding you close, shifts slightly to give geto room to move. his own body is slick with sweat, the fabric of his clothing clinging uncomfortably to his skin. despite everything, he manages a small smile at the sight of your flushed and panting form.

“you were amazing,” he murmurs into your ear, his voice thick with approval and desire. “we could watch you come all day.” geto smirks up at you, his eyes gleaming with mischief. he rises from his position between your spread legs, his hands lingering on your thighs for a brief moment before he stands fully.

he turns towards gojo, leaning in to capture his lips in a passionate kiss. his hands move to grip gojo's waist, pulling him closer as he explores the depths of his mouth with his tongue.

meanwhile, gojo's hands move to hold onto geto, one hand resting on his hip while the other trails down his chest and abdomen. he breaks the kiss only when he needs to catch his breath, a soft sigh escaping his lips. you lean against the couch as you watch your two boyfriends kissing each other in hunger, like they are finally feel alive after the weeks of torture because of the fight the three of you have this past weeks.

the sight of them together sends a fresh wave of arousal through you, your spent body already beginning to stir with renewed interest. you shift slightly on the couch, spreading your legs wider in silent invitation.

as if sensing your movement, both men break their kiss, turning to look at you with matching expressions of heat and longing. gojo reaches out a hand, beckoning you closer. “come here, sweetheart,” he says, his voice low and rough with desire, “let us show you how much we've missed you.”

as you make your way over to them, geto and gojo exchange a heated glance, communicating silently. they step closer to each other, their bodies molding together perfectly. geto's hands slip under gojo's shirt, pushing it up and over his head before tossing it aside carelessly. he does the same with his own clothes, leaving them both bare from the waist up.

they continue to kiss deeply as they strip each other, hands roaming freely over newly exposed skin. when they are both naked, they take a moment to just drink in the sight of each other— the defined muscles, the flushed skin, the straining erections. then they converge on you again, surrounding you in a cocoon of heat and hardness and love.

gojo's arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you flush against his chest as he nuzzles into your hair. his cock presses insistently against your ass, hot and hard and ready.

geto, meanwhile, kneads at your breasts, his palms sending sparks of pleasure through your sensitive flesh. he captures one of your nipples between his teeth, tugging gently before soothing the sting with his tongue. their combined attentions send a rush of desire coursing through you, your body responding eagerly to their touches. you find yourself arching into gojo's embrace, pushing back against his erection, while also pressing your breasts further into geto's grasp.

the sensations are almost overwhelming, but in the best possible way. you can feel the tension building between you once more, the promise of another explosive climax on the horizon. and this time, you won't be alone...

gojo's hands slide down your sides, tracing the curves of your hips before settling on your thighs. he gives them a firm squeeze, urging them apart as he aligns himself with your entrance. with a low growl of desire, he pushes inside you slowly, relishing the tight clench of your walls around his throbbing length. every inch that he sinks deeper sends ripples of pleasure through both of you.

“oh, god..” you mumble the moment you feel gojo's cock twitching inside you making your eyes flickering for a second.

meanwhile, geto continues to lavish attention on your breasts, his mouth moving lower to tease at your nipples with soft flicks of his tongue. he pinches and rolls the hardened buds between his fingers, coaxing even more delicious pain into your pleasure-soaked senses.

the double stimulation is nearly unbearable, but you don't want it to stop. the cause of gojo's action you instantly wrapping your arms around geto's shoulder, looking for a support as gojo continues to fucking you from behind while standing. “o-oh,” you stammered, “i-i miss your dick so much,” you added between your moan.

“fuck, i missed this too baby,” gojo groans, his hips snapping forward to bury himself deep inside you. “missed feeling your tight little pussy squeezing my cock.” his words are punctuated by the sound of skin slapping against skin, the obscene noise filling the room along with your moans and gasps. he sets a relentless pace, pounding into you with all the pent-up frustration and longing of the past weeks.

geto, not wanting to be left out, takes advantage of your new position to trail kisses down your body. he licks a path across your collarbone, pausing to nip lightly at the tender flesh. then he moves lower, laving attention on your nipples once more before continuing his descent.

geto doesn't pause until he's kneeling in front of you, his mouth hovering just above your most sensitive spot. he looks up at you with dark lust-filled eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards in anticipation. then, without warning, he dives in, his tongue delving deep into your folds to taste you anew. he savors your flavor, drinking in every drop of your essence as if it's the most exquisite delicacy.

meanwhile, gojo grips your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your flesh as he thrusts harder and faster. each stroke hits a spot deep within you, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your entire being. the dual assault leaves you teetering on the edge of obliviation once more, your climax building quickly beneath the skilled ministrations of both men.

“f-fuck— ah!” you low scream a shaking moan. your hand tugging harshly on geto's long hair while the other tugging the back of his head for support. they can feel your body shaking on their skin.

the sensation of your nails scraping down his scalp sends a jolt straight to geto's cock, hardening it even further. he doubles his efforts, his tongue swirling around your clit with abandon while two fingers plunge into your dripping cunt. he watches as you come undone, your whole body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. your juices coat his face, the tangy sweetness driving him wilder.

meanwhile, gojo keeps pistoning into you relentlessly, using your trembling form as an anchor to pull himself even deeper. his grunts fill the air, echoing your cries as he chases his own release. the sight of you writhing between them, lost in pleasure... it's too much for either man to bear. with a shared groan of satisfaction, they reach their peaks simultaneously.

with a final powerful thrust, gojo spills himself inside you, his seed filling your welcoming warmth. his cum spurts forth in thick ropes, marking you as his once more. at the same time, geto laps up every last drop of your release, his tongue working tirelessly to milk every tremor from your quivering body. when he feels your spasms subside, he pulls away reluctantly, licking his lips with a satisfied smirk.

gojo collapses beside you on the couch, panting heavily as he recover from his intense exertions. their chests rise and fall rapidly, slick with sweat from their vigorous lovemaking session. as the aftershocks ripple through your body, contentment washes over you. you snuggle closer to geto and gojo, drawing comfort from their presence as well as satisfaction from what just happened.

your head rests against geto's bare sweaty chest, seeing how his cock still stands straight— his angry red tip spitting his pre-cum each second. your hands move to grasp his cock into your hands, slowly moving it up and down as you look up to him. geto lets out a low groan as your small hand wraps around his girth, stroking him with practiced ease. his hips buck involuntarily, seeking more friction from your touch.

when you move to straddle his lap, he grasps your thighs firmly, guiding you onto his erect member. aided by your slickness, you sink down onto him easily, taking him fully inside you once again.

gojo watches with hooded eyes from where he lies sprawled nearby, a lazy smile playing on his lips. “damn, i love watching you ride our boyfriend like that,” he murmurs appreciatively. with a playful wink in gojo's direction, geto threads his fingers through your hair and begins to guide your movements. he teaches you how to bounce atop him, each downward stroke hitting that perfect spot inside you that makes stars burst behind your closed eyelids.

as much as you love having his tongue on your pussy, you need his cock too. your nails digging into geto's torso as you bounce slowly, enjoying every single vein of his cock on your velvet wall. “f-fuck, is your dick always this big?” you ask between your whining and moaning. the week of being ignored almost makes you forget how big his cock is.

“of course it is,” geto chuckles, his voice low and husky with arousal. “i wouldn't be able to satisfy such a greedy little thing as you otherwise.” his hips rise to meet yours on each downward stroke, thrusting upward to meet you halfway. the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room once more, punctuating your whines and moans.

gojo shifts lazily on the couch, propping himself up on one elbow to watch the show. he smirks at your question about geto's size. “he might have mentioned something about it being larger than average during our training sessions,” he teases, winking at you suggestively.

your body responds eagerly to geto's every movement, your inner walls clenching around him rhythmically. his grip on your hips tightens as he helps set the rhythm, each thrust pushing you further down onto his shaft. the angle allows him to hit that sweet spot inside you perfectly, making your toes curl and your breath hitch.

“feel good?” he asks, leaning up to capture one of your nipples between his teeth. he bites gently, adding another layer of sensation to the mix.

you mindlessly throwing your body back, knowing geto would always catch you— and he did, instinctively, his muscular arm wrapped around your waist in instant. your eyes flutter shut, “oh god, it so good— fu—ah! fucking good,” you whimper. geto releases your nipple with a soft pop, trailing his lips up your neck to whisper hotly in your ear. “that's right, baby. take what you need from me."

he grips your ass cheeks, spreading them apart to gain better access as he pounds into you with renewed vigor. the couch creaks under the force of his thrusts, the sound mingling with your desperate moans.

gojo watches intently, his own cock twitching with interest. he reaches out to palm himself, giving his shaft slow strokes as he drinks in the erotic spectacle unfolding before him. “you're so beautiful when you let loose like this,” gojo murmurs, his gaze locked on your flushed face and heaving breasts, “can't wait to see you take both of us at once.”

geto trailing his lips up your neck before pulling away and leaning against the couch. he grips your ass cheeks, spreading them apart to gain better access as he pounds into you with renewed vigor. the couch creaks under the force of his thrusts, the sound mingling with your desperate moans.

they both watch you with hunger as you ride geto's cock. your lips tear another for another moan, whine, and whimper. as you continue to bounce on geto's cock, he holds your hips steady, changing the angle slightly to aim for that special spot inside you. his pelvis grinds against yours with each downward stroke, ensuring he stimulates your clit with every thrust.

geto's breath comes faster, growing ragged as he nears his peak. one hand moves to caress your breast, kneading the supple mound roughly. he pinches and rolls your hardened nipple between his fingers, heightening your pleasure.

“fuck, i'm close,” geto grits out through clenched teeth. “want you to come for me first, though. soak my cock like a good girl.” gojo nods approvingly at his friend's words, giving himself a few more firm strokes as he continues to admire your erotic display. “let go for us, baby,” gojo murmur as he lean closer to your breast.

“oh, my god—” you whining, eyebrows furrowed together. your nails scratching geto's chest as you start to feel your legs trembling— trying so hard to hold your scream.

geto can tell you're close, your inner walls tightening around him in waves. he quickens his pace, slamming up into you with abandon. each thrust hits that sweet spot deep within you, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

“that's it, babe. come all over my cock,” he encourages, his voice rough with lust. his other hand snakes around to find your swollen clit, rubbing circles over it with just enough pressure to tip you over the edge. with a loud cry, you finally surrender to the overwhelming sensations ripping through you. your climax crashes over you like a tidal wave, your inner muscles spasming wildly around geto’s throbbing length.

the feeling of your warm release coating his cock triggers his own orgasm moments later. with a guttural groan, he spills himself inside you once more, filling you up with his hot seed.

as your orgasm subsides, geto cradles you against his chest, holding you close as your breathing slows. he strokes your hair soothingly, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead. you rest your head against his chest, trying to catch your breath as your gaze with gojo's one who's looking at you smiling. geto hold you close, refuse to let you go as you cockwarming him.

“mhm,” geto hums softly, nuzzling into your hair. his cock twitches inside you, already starting to soften now that he's filled you to the brim with his cum. he whispers into your ear, “but we're not done yet, baby.”

as if to prove his point, geto rolls his hips underneath you, making sure every last drop of semen is thoroughly coated inside your soaking wet pussy. the added warmth only makes it easier for him to keep hard despite coming just minutes ago.

next to you, gojo chuckles softly. he rises from the couch, his erection still prominent despite his recent masturbation session— his own erection still rock-hard and leaking precum. he approaches you both, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “now for round three,” geto promises, already starting to harden again inside you. gojo stand behind you, as the black-haired reposition himself and you that still on his lap to be more comfortable and easy for gojo to reach.

you cried a protest, trying to wiggle your way out of them, already feeling sore, but they persistence. they can't help it but to craving for you. they haven't seen you for a week, and the fight and all the ignoring you ordeal make it even harder for them not to ruin you, their pretty little girlfriend.

you are no better, you miss them so much, especially having the feeling of them being inside you. but you can't help but to mumble a no, already can't shake the feeling of two of them being inside you at the same time. the thought itself already overwhelmed you.

geto and gojo exchange a look, their expressions mirroring each other's determination. they know you're sore, but they also know how much you crave their touch after being apart for so long.

“shh, it's okay, baby,” geto coos, stroking your cheek gently. his large hands gives your rear an affectionate squeeze, refusing to budge. “don't worry, sweetheart,” he coos reassuringly, “we'll go nice and slow. just relax and let us take care of you.”

true to his word, geto resumes his lazy thrusts, keeping the pace leisurely. it allows you to adjust to the stretch of having both their girthy cocks buried inside you simultaneously.

gojo takes advantage of your pliant state, lining himself up with your entrance. he pushes in slowly, inch by delicious inch, until he's fully sheathed within your welcoming heat. “mmm, so tight,” he praises breathlessly, giving you a moment to acclimate to the dual penetration.

both men hold back, determined to let you dictate the pace this time. gojo wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer against him. “just relax and let us worship you properly,” he murmurs into your ear.

“oh god, oh god, fuck—” you let out a loud curse.

your back arch sharply towards gojo until you shoulders touching his. you feel so full of their cock inside you at the same time. stuffing you so well making your head dizzy and spinning.

their combined girth stretches you wide, filling you to the brim with their thick lengths. every small movement sends waves of pleasure rippling through your body, making it difficult to think straight.

“fuck baby, so tight...” geto groans beneath you, his eyes glazing over with desire. his hands grip your hips tightly as he starts to move again, setting a languid rhythm that has you gasping for air.

gojo mirrors his movements, sliding in and out of you in sync with geto. his breath hitches in his throat, a low growl escaping from deep within his chest. “jesus christ... you're amazing,” he murmurs into your ear, pressing heated kisses along the curve of your neck.

the double penetration is intense—the sensation unlike anything you've ever experienced before—but there's something undeniably thrilling about it too.

together, they begin to move, synchronizing their thrusts to create a rhythm designed to drive you wild. their hips rock back and forth in tandem, each stroke hitting that perfect spot inside you. the sensation is overwhelming, but in the best possible way—it feels incredible.

“b-baby,” you stammer from the pleasure. you can barely think straight, lost in the blissful haze enveloping you. every inch of your skin tingles with pleasure, every nerve ending alive with sensation. your mind goes blank except for the relentless pounding of their cocks against your sensitive insides.

your one arm reaches behind, grasping at nothing before you get a chance to hold gojo's neck desperately for a support, want him as close to you as he can be. “so g-good baby, don't— oh! stop,” you whimper.

feeling your grip tighten around his neck, gojo lets out a low chuckle. “that's what i thought you'd say,” he murmurs teasingly, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. their synchronized thrusts continue unabated, driving deeper and harder with each passing second. the dual stimulation is almost unbearable—the pleasure building within you exponentially.

geto groans beneath you, his hands roaming over your curves with renewed vigor. “god damn... you're so fucking sexy when you're squirming like that,” he praises huskily.

despite your protests, neither man seems inclined to stop anytime soon. instead, they pick up the pace slightly—each stroke now punctuated by a sharp intake of breath from either side of you. the dual assault on your senses is almost too much to handle. the steady rhythm of their thrusts, the feel of their thick cocks stretching you wide, it's all too much. you can hardly breathe, let alone form coherent sentences.

geto grunts under you, his thrusts growing more erratic as he chases his impending release. “fuck. . . i'm gonna—!” he warns breathlessly, reaching down between them to rub at your swollen clit in desperate attempt to push you over the edge right along with him.

gojo moans loudly, his grip on your waist tightening. “so fucking good... you're so damn tight,” he groans, bucking his hips harder into yours. the sensation of your snug heat surrounding his dick is driving him crazy—every stroke is pure ecstasy.

“baby. . . you're so fucking tight around our cocks,” gojo grunts out between pants, nibbling to your shoulder and neck hungrily— he just can't get enough of you, the sight of you wrapped so snugly around them driving him wilder than ever before.

geto's fingers dance over your sensitive clit, sending jolts of electricity through your entire body. “oh— i-i, oh god!” you whining on geto'e neck. the added stimulation proves to be the final straw, pushing you over the precipice into oblivion.

your inner walls clench around both cocks as your orgasm rips through you, a high-pitched wail tearing from your throat. wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes over you, leaving you trembling and helpless in their embrace.

feeling your pussy spasm around them, geto and gojo lose the battle against their own releases. With a guttural roar, geto buries himself deep inside you, his hot seed painting your insides as he comes undone.

at the same exact moment, gojo follows suit, his cock throbbing violently as he empties himself within your welcoming depths. as your orgasm hits full force, you cry out—your voice echoing throughout the room as wave after wave of pleasure courses through your veins. “baby..” you moan.

geto and gojo are both left panting heavily, their bodies slick with sweat as they ride out the aftershocks of their orgasms. each pulse of your pussy milks them for everything they have, drawing out their climaxes further.

as the last tremors fade away, both men collapse onto the couch beside you, spent and satisfied. lucky the couch is big enough for the three of you. geto wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you down onto his chest while gojo presses soft kisses to your forehead.

“you're amazing,“ geto murmurs into your hair, his voice filled with warmth and affection. “and you're ours,” gojo adds with a smirk, giving your ass a playful squeeze.

as the aftershocks of your climax ripple through you. geto's forehead rests against your shoulder while gojo leans heavily against your back. “that was incredible,” geto whispers hoarsely, panting heavily against your skin. he slowly pulls out of you, taking great care not to hurt you despite the sensitivity of your still-quivering walls.

gojo presses a tender kiss against the base of your spine, chuckling softly. “i never get tired of hearing those sounds coming from you,” he admits, nuzzling against you lovingly. despite the intensity of what just happened, they stay close—neither willing nor able to leave your side just yet.

the three of you lie there, limbs tangled and breaths heavy, as the aftereffects of the passion ripple through your bodies. geto holds you close against his chest, his forehead pressed against your shoulder as he tries to regulate his breathing. “god, you feel so damn good,” he mutters in between gasps, his voice still rough.

gojo, as he lies behind you, his body molding seamlessly against your back. he presses a gentle kiss against the base of your spine before nuzzling into your neck, his arms wrapping around you in a tender embrace.

geto’s fingers gently rub soothing circles across your skin, while gojo continues to sprinkle soft kisses across your neck and shoulders. there’s a comfortable silence between the three of you, broken only by the sounds of ragged breaths and beating hearts.

gojo breaks the silence first, his voice low and hoarse. “i never want to let you go,” he murmurs against your skin, his grip on you tightening slightly. “i just want to hold you like this forever.”

still with your eyes closed and your chest going up and down as you are trying to catch a breath, you weakly pushing them away, feeling disgusted how sweaty and sticky your body feels.

“i'm sweaty,” you mumble softly.

they immediately notice your body pushing against them and your voice sounding weak. they look at each other for a second, silently communicating their concern before gojo speaks up. “hey,” he whispers softly, his hand rubbing your arm. “are you okay?”

geto slowly pulls back, his hands moving to your face, gently tilting it towards him so he can look at you. “baby, did we hurt you?” you shake your head before laughing a little, your cheek pressed against the soft material of the couch. “no, that was the best sex i ever had, we should do that again,” you mumble with your eyes still closed.

your body curls up until you thigh touching your chest. “i never knew i could take you two at the same time,” you mumble without opening your eyes. they both let out a sigh of relief when you shake your head, the tension in their bodies slightly easing.

“you scared us for a second there,” gojo admits, his hand gently caressing your arm. “you were shaking so much, we thought we hurt you.” geto adds, his voice soft and tender, “yeah... we just want to make sure you’re okay, princess.”

they watch you curl up, your body still visibly trembling slightly. gojo gently runs his fingers through your hair, his voice low and soothing. “you did so well, baby…” geto, meanwhile, reaches to the armrest of the couch and grabs a blanket, gently draping it over you. “you look tired. does your body hurt anywhere?”

gojo’s fingers continue to caress your hair, his touch gentle and soft. he lets out a small chuckle, “you were shaking so hard... that’s how we know it was good.” geto, meanwhile, adjusts the blanket so it’s securely over your body. “god, you look adorable like that,” gojo can't help but mutters as he give your arm a gentle kiss.

“i feel sore,” you mumble still.

their expressions soften at your admission. “to be expected.” gojo says, caressing your hair gently. “we’ll get some ointment and massage you a bit after you rest a while, okay?” geto nods, his gaze tender as he looks down at you. “we’ll take good care of you, princess. just rest for a bit now.”

you fold your wrist under your chin, your habit whenever you are trying to fall asleep. “i wanna go to sleep,” you speak softly, still refuse to open your eyes. feeling so tired after coming back from a mission and have to go round and round with them after is not something you expect in your agenda for today.

they both laugh softly at your mumbled words, the sight of you trying to stay awake while visibly dead tired being too cute for them to ignore. gojo gently runs his fingers through your hair again, his voice low and soothing. “then go to sleep, baby. we’ll watch over you, don’t worry.” geto moves closer to you, his hand gently caressing your arm. “we’ll be here when you wake up.”

you nodded, “i wanna eat soup,” you added, sounds more like you are talking in your sleep rather than talking to them. they both smile at your sleepy request, gojo letting out a soft chuckle.

“of course, baby.” he whispers, still running his fingers through your hair. “we’ll get you soup once you wake up, i promise.” geto murmurs approvingly, his hand softly rubbing your arm. “you have no idea how cute you sound right now.”

they continue to watch you, their touches gentle and soothing as your body slowly relaxes into sleep.

gojo’s fingers gently running through your hair, his touch soft and comforting. “that’s it, baby. just relax and sleep now… we’ll be here when you wake up.” geto’s hand continues to rub your arm as he watches you slowly slip into sleep, his eyes fond and affectionate. “sweet dreams, princess.”

over the next few minutes, your breathing gradually evens out and your body relaxes completely into a peaceful sleep. gojo and geto remain by your side, their presences reassuring and unwavering. geto readjusts the blanket over you, while gojo moves a strand of hair away from your face. they both sit quietly, watching over you with tender looks in their eyes.

[maxtermind]

absolutely loved ‘baby, would i still be your lover’, everyone single one got me in my feels! i was wondering would you consider doing a part 2? whether it ends in angst or fluff

I'll tell you the truth, but never goodbye

★ : summary :: when he accidentally insults you during an argument- aftermath ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: hurt/comfort, hints of angst ★ : word count :: 4.3k ★ : a/n :: thank you so much for the love on part 1 💓 some of these have open ending so you can pick whether you'd like to forgive them or not as a reader!! feedback is appreciated :)

( part 1 )

Max Verstappen

You sighed as you sat down to have your morning tea as usual, trying to pretend that nothing was wrong. As if you hadn't spent all night long getting your phone spammed with calls that you were ignoring.

After mindlessly roaming around for a bit, you eventually decided to crash at your best friend’s place. You lazily waved at her as she frantically got ready to leave for work. However, you were on your tiptoe as soon as the door opened.

A body that was possibly sleeping while leaning against the door fell inside and you heard curses that you were quite too familiar with. Your heart clenched at the sight of your boyfriend - or perhaps now, your ex-boyfriend - on his knees, nursing the wound on his head. The ache of seeing him in pain reignited the anguish you thought you had left behind.

“Okay,” you heard your friend murmur. “I'm gonna let you guys get to it.” She was out the door a second later.

You looked at the closed door instead of the man who was desperately trying to make eye contact with you.

“How long have you…” You trailed off before deciding that you didn't want to know.

“As soon as you turned your phone off, Y/N! I've been here since last night.” "Why?" you choked out, the words barely escaping your lips as tears threatened to overflow. His brows furrowed before he ran his hands over his face and got up to sit right next to you. You saw his hand itching toward yours and instinctively pulled it towards your body. "Because I needed to see you in person, to talk." He took another deep breath and you later realized that he was trying to stop himself from crying. “I realize I messed up, baby. I.. I never should have let you walk out.” But his attempt to mend the shattered pieces of your relationship only served to reopen the wounds, your walls instinctively rising in defense,"Talk? You think a talk is going to fix everything?" Max's eyes were filled with a mix of regret and desperation as he reached out for your hand, his fingers trembling slightly. "No, I don't think a talk will magically fix everything," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion.

"But it's a start. I need you to know that I'm truly sorry for what happened. I hate myself for hurting you, for making you doubt how much you mean to me."

You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze, the pain of the previous night still too fresh in your mind.

“How can I trust you again, Max? How can I be sure that this won't happen again?" Your voice was barely a whisper, filled with the ache of betrayal.

Max's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I know I've messed up, Y/N. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn back your trust. I'll work on my temper, I’ll be better to you, I'll do anything you ask of me. I just need you to give me another chance." “You know you’ve always been the best to me, right? I just can’t believe that instead of talking it out yesterday, you straight up skipped to breaking up wit-” Fresh tears started falling down your cheeks. Max immediately leaned forward to hold you in his arms and you let him because you needed him. But how could you trust him again? How could you be sure that history wouldn't repeat itself? That he won’t throw away your whole relationship just because the anger got a hold of him? As Max held you close, you felt a wave of conflicting emotions wash over you. Part of you wanted to push him away, to scream and shout at him for causing you so much pain. But another part of you craved his warmth, his touch, his presence.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," Max whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I know I messed up, and I hate myself for it. I never meant to hurt you, I swear."

You buried your face in his chest, the tears soaking through his shirt as you struggled to make sense of your feelings.

“I just don't know if I can do this anymore, Max," you admitted, your voice muffled against him. Max tightened his embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "I understand," he murmured, his voice gentle. His admission eased your thumping heart a bit, you were glad to have him back. The storm within you finding a momentary calm.

"I made you feel like our relationship was disposable, like breaking up was no big deal. But that couldn't be further from the truth. You're the most important person in my life, baby and the thought of losing you terrifies me. I'll do whatever it takes to make things right between us, to show you just how much you mean to me. I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust if you still want me."

Lewis Hamilton

The weight of Lewis's words hung heavy in the air, suffocating you as you retreated into the sanctuary of your bedroom. Tears streamed down your cheeks unchecked, your heart aching with a pain you couldn't quite comprehend. How had a day that started with such a promise turned into this? You buried your face in your hands, the sting of Lewis's words feeling like acid running through your veins.

Outside the door, the silence was deafening, broken only by the muffled sound of your sobs. Lewis stood frozen in place, his mind racing as he replayed the exchange in his head.

He couldn't believe the words that had escaped his lips, couldn't fathom how he had allowed his frustration to morph into such hurtful remarks.

Minutes stretched into eternity as Lewis grappled with the weight of his actions, the gravity of his words settling like a lead weight in his chest.

He wanted to reach out to you, to apologize and make things right, but his feet remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the magnitude of his mistake.

Inside the bedroom, you were consumed by a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Anger, hurt, betrayal - they all swirled together into an ugly monster, threatening to engulf you whole.

How could the man you loved, the man who had always been your rock, turn on you with such venom?

But beneath the anger and hurt, there was a flicker of doubt, a gnawing fear that maybe Lewis's words held a grain of truth. Maybe you were too insecure, too needy, too demanding. Maybe you were asking for too much, expecting him to be there for you when he had his own priorities and responsibilities. Maybe-

The sound of a soft knock on the door snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see Lewis standing there, his expression wrought with regret and guilt. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the unspoken apology hanging heavy in the air. Looking at him distraught made your chest feel worse. How could he make you feel ten fold worse than this and not feel a thing? 

"I'm sorry," Lewis finally whispered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't mean what I said. I was out of line, and I know I hurt you. Please, let me make it right." He rushed through the words.

His words pierced through the haze of your pain, and you felt a bit of heaviness leaving your body. He crossed the room in a few strides, dropping to his knees in front of you, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. 

"I don't know what came over me," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion before your boyfriend took your hand away from your face and kissed your cheeks. "I was so caught up in my own frustrations that I lashed out at you, and I hate myself for it. You don't deserve to be treated that way, especially not by me."

You studied his face, searching for any sign of insincerity, but all you saw was genuine remorse and regret. And despite the pain still raw in your chest, you couldn't deny the love you felt for him, the longing to mend what had been broken between you. “You hurt me,” you whispered but didn’t push him away as he laid down with you, holding you close to his chest. Some of your resolve wavering when you felt his fast heartbeat. “I wanted you there so much.” He nodded as he shushed you, his own eyes dropping tears. “I’m so so sorry, baby. I can't even begin to express how deeply I regret the way I acted the whole day, I know you deserve so much more but-” You shifted slightly, knowing all that you wanted right now was comfort, you didn't want to forgive him or minimize the weight of his actions. "I don't know if I can right now," you replied, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions.

Lewis's eyes brimmed with tears as he whispered, "Please don't shut me out. I can't bear the thought of losing you."

You felt a pang of guilt at the pain evident in his voice. "I just need some time to process everything," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I understand," Lewis replied, his tone filled with sorrow. "But please know that I'm here whenever you're ready to talk."

You nodded, silently acknowledging his words as you allowed yourself to be enveloped in his comforting embrace. 

"I promise to make it up to you," Lewis vowed earnestly, his voice laced with determination. "I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust."

"I want to believe you," you admitted quietly, your heart heavy with uncertainty. Everything was a little too raw right now and your emotions were all over the place.

"I'll spend every moment proving it to you," Lewis declared, his eyes locking with yours in a silent vow.

“I was thoughtless and cruel today, and I never should have let those words leave my lips. You are not insecure, you are strong and resilient, baby. You deserve so much better than the hurtful words I spoke. Please know that I can’t lose you, Y/N. I will work tirelessly to regain your trust and rebuild what I have so carelessly shattered. You mean the world to me, and I will spend every moment striving to be worthy of your love.”

Carlos Sainz

As you sat nervously in your childhood home, the familiar sights and sounds providing little comfort, your mind raced with thoughts of disappointment and hurt.

For the third time, Carlos had failed to join you in meeting your parents, leaving you to face their questioning looks and unspoken concerns alone. You had rehearsed what you would say to them, how you would explain his absence, but each time, the words caught in your throat, choked by a mixture of frustration and sadness. For the past few days since you walked out of your apartment, you had been ignoring Carlos’ attempts to reconcile with you. The calls and texts he spammed you with were ignored and curses left your mouth as soon as your mind went back to the day of the argument, bringing unwanted tears to your eyes.

In the passing, you saw a Ferrari conference being conducted and as much as you wanted to reach out and talk it out with him, your heart did flips that you were sure you should have visited a doctor for.

Your parents, ever perceptive, noticed your unease as you fidgeted with the napkin in your lap, casting worried glances in your direction. You tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it faltered, betraying the turmoil within you.

How could you explain to them that the man you loved couldn't find the time to meet them, despite his promises and assurances? "What's wrong, sweetie?" your mom asked, concern evident in her voice.

You sighed, hesitating for a moment before replying, "It's Carlos... He like…"

Your dad's brow furrowed. "Is everything okay?"

You tried to muster a reassuring smile. "Yeah, he said that he got caught up with work. You know how busy he is with his racing and all..." Your dad’s brows furrowed when you trailed off, about to ask you what exactly you meant but just as you were steeling yourself to broach the subject, the doorbell rang, startling you from your thoughts.

Your heart sank as you realized it was likely a neighbor stopping by to meet you since you don’t visit that often, you stood up to go greet them. But then, to your disbelief, you heard his voice drifting through the door, before you saw your boyfriend standing right behind it. Your head titled in confusion and you drew a breath that took most of the stress from the previous days away from your body.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, his tone apologetic yet determined. Carlos took your hand and kissed it lightly,"Traffic was a nightmare." “What about the conference that you-” “You’re the most important person in my life, Y/N.” He cut you off before pulling you in and walking to the dining room that was in his vision. As if that was the answer to your question.

You turned to face him, your eyes wide with surprise and a flicker of hope. There he was, looking slightly disheveled but undeniably earnest, his gaze that locked on yours was as if it was seeking forgiveness. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the regret etched in the lines of his face.

Your parents exchanged a glance, their expressions softening as they took in the sight of Carlos standing before them. 

Despite their reservations about his repeated absences, they couldn't deny the genuine affection that Carlos held in his eyes when he looked at you.

Before you could find the words to respond, Carlos took a step forward, his hand reaching out tentatively. "I'm really sorry, both of you," he said, addressing your parents directly.

"I know how important this is to you, and I should have made more of an effort to be here on time."

His words hung in the air, a silent acknowledgment of his shortcomings and a pledge to do better. You felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you, a mixture of relief, gratitude, and a glimmer of renewed faith in your relationship. "Well, we're just glad you could make it," your dad said, offering Carlos a handshake.

"Thank you for coming, Carlos," your mother said, her voice warm yet cautious. "We understand that life gets busy, but it's important to make time for the people who matter most."

Carlos nodded, his expression earnest as he met her gaze. "I couldn't agree more. Family means putting in effort, I promise to make it up to all of you."

As you sat down to dinner, the atmosphere was tinged with a sense of reconciliation and hope. Your hand still intertwined with his as you saw him charm your family. Despite the rocky start, Carlos's presence brought a newfound sense of unity and understanding to the table. And as you shared stories and laughter, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunity to mend what had seemed irreparably broken.

In that moment, you realized that love wasn't just about grand gestures or sweeping declarations—it was about the everyday moments of connection and compromise, the willingness to forgive and grow together.

And as you looked at Carlos, his eyes filled with determination and affection, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand.

Charles Leclerc

Charles had apologized right after he had said those words and though you had both fallen back into routine, the underlying bitterness and resentment was still present. You weren’t the one initiating any kind of affection from your side and every time Charles was initiating anything, you half assed your way out of it. Was it childish? Probably. But you were still not comfortable with how easily you had forgiven Charles, burying your hurt just to avoid conflict once again despite knowing deep down that he has hurt you probably more than anyone else ever has. These thoughts were running through your head as you sat beside Charles, your heart still heavy with the weight, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. Especially because Charles seemed distant, his mind preoccupied with thoughts, that you couldn't help but wonder what exactly they were. Why had he even asked to go on a date today? To break up with you? Suddenly, Pippa appeared, her presence causing the knot to form in your stomach to get tighter. She approached with a confident stride, a charming smile gracing her lips as she greeted Charles with a hug.

"Hey, Charlie!" Pippa exclaimed, her eyes flickering briefly in your direction before returning to Charles. "Long time no see!"

Charles returned her hug, though his embrace seemed somewhat forced. "Hey, Pippa. Yeah, it's been a while." 

You observed their interaction closely, your unease growing with each passing moment. Pippa's presence always seemed to unsettle you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to their friendship than met the eye. Was he gonna break up with you in public and confess his years long feelings for Pippa? Charles glanced at you, his expression softening as he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I was just out with Y/N today."

You couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth at his actions, his affectionate gesture soothing some of the tension that had been building between you.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," Pippa said, offering you a friendly smile. "Sorry I didn’t see you next to Charlie."

You returned her smile, though it didn't quite reach your eyes and managed to reply without gagging. "Nice to meet you, Pippa." Charles tightened his grip on your hand, silently reassuring you of his presence and support. "We were just grabbing a coffee," he explained, his gaze flickering between you and Pippa. "Care to join us?"

Pippa hesitated for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced at you before turning back to Charles. "Actually, I was hoping we could catch up alone, if that's okay."

You felt a pang of anxiety at her words, a sense of foreboding settling in the pit of your stomach. Despite your reservations, you nodded, forcing a smile as you released Charles's hand. It was better to walk away yourself than to have Charles dismiss you.

"Of course," you said, though your voice sounded strained even to your own ears. "I'll wait for you outside."

Charles shot you an alarmed look as you stood up,”I’ll see you in a few.” Charles’ hand lingered on yours for a moment longer before you reluctantly let go and made your way to the door.

You leaned against your car and enjoyed the wind for a second. You couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of the exchange between your boyfriend and his best friend sitting inside.

You were half scared to find them kissing or something but, instead a sense of confusion washed over you as you watched the way Pippa was angrily point a finger at Charles and scream at him.

It was a second later when she stormed out before making her way towards you.

"Is he doing this because of you?!" Pippa's accusatory tone sent a shiver down your spine, her words hitting too close to home.

Before you could even process what was happening, Charles emerged from the cafe, his expression determined as he approached you and Pippa.

"Go home, Pippa," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument as he intertwined his hand with yours.

Pippa's eyes blazed with anger, her fists clenched at her sides as she glared at Charles. "You will regret this, Charles!" she spat before storming off, leaving you both standing there in stunned silence.

Once Pippa was out of sight, you turned to Charles, your heart pounding in your chest. "What was that all about?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

Charles sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at you with apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry you had to witness that, Y/N. Pippa has been... difficult lately."

You frowned, your mind reeling with confusion and frustration. "Difficult how?"

Charles hesitated for a moment, his gaze searching yours as if trying to find the right words. "She's been pushing boundaries, trying to come between us. But I won't let her." 

"Hey," he continued, taking your hand in his. "I told Pippa that I wouldn't be spending time with her alone anymore. If she can't accept you, then it's better for us to not be friends at all."

You blinked in surprise, a rush of gratitude flooding through you at his words. "Really?"

Charles nodded, squeezing your hand gently. "Really. You're the most important person in my life, and I won't let anyone come between us."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. "Thank you, Charles. I appreciate you standing up for us."

He smiled softly, squeezing your hand reassuringly. "I'll always stand up for us, Y/N. You mean everything to me."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you threw your arms around him, holding him close. Despite the lingering bitterness and resentment, you couldn't deny the overwhelming love you felt for him in that moment.

Lando Norris

As you stepped out of the taxi, the cool night air enveloped you, offering a moment of respite from the whirlwind of emotions that had engulfed you throughout the evening.

Your heart still felt heavy with the weight of Lando's hurtful words, but beneath the pain, a numbness resided- knowing deep down that you might’ve just broken up with your boyfriend.

Before you could take another step, you heard the sound of hurried footsteps approaching from behind. Turning around, you saw Lando rushing towards you, his eyes filled with remorse and his expression wrought with sorrow. Your hand instinctively went to your chest, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart.

"Y/N, please wait," he called out, his voice pleading as he reached your side, breathless from his haste.

You pulled your face to meet his eyes, uncertainty and wariness etched into your features as you met his gaze. Part of you yearned to turn away, to shield yourself from the pain of his words, but another part couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, he was sincere in his apology.

"Lando," you said softly, your voice tinged with a mixture of hurt and apprehension. You wanted to say more but the damn ball in your throat stopped you doing so.

He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours as he searched for the right words to express the depth of his regret. "I know I messed up, Y/N. I hurt you, and I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am for that."

His words washed over you like a soothing balm, offering a sliver of comfort. But still, you couldn't bring yourself to let go of the hurt that lingered in your heart.

"I should have been there for you tonight, supporting you and showing you how much you mean to me," Lando continued, his voice filled with genuine remorse. "Instead, I let my own selfishness and insecurities get in the way, and for that, I am truly sorry."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to him, the sincerity in his voice echoing the ache in your own heart. You were sure you’ll regret letting go of this amazing relationship without at least attempting to work on it.

Despite the pain he had caused you, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to rebuild what had been broken.

"I don't expect you to forgive me right away, Y/N," Lando said softly, his hands shaking and showcasing the intensity of his vulnerability.

"I know I have a lot of work to do to earn back your trust and your love. But please, just give me a chance to make things right. I promise to do whatever it takes to show you how much you mean to me, every single day for the rest of my life."

His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity and remorse, leaving you torn between the desire to hold onto the pain of the past and the hope for a brighter future. As you gazed into his eyes, searching for any hint of insincerity or deceit, all you found was raw honesty and unwavering devotion.

With a heavy heart and a flicker of hope, you reached out to take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "I don't know if I'm ready to forgive you just yet, Lando," you whispered, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

Lando takes a step closer, gently cupping your face in his hands. "I'll spend every moment proving I'm worthy of your love, Y/N. Let me show you how much you mean to me, starting from this moment. I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust, even if it means giving you the space you need. Just know that I'm here for you, whenever you're ready."

( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

[augustinewrites]

does gojo ever freak out or worry ab reader when she’s alone on missions? obviously she can handle herself & knows what she’s doing, but he gives the vibes that he’d be internally panicking 😭

“hey, welcome back!” gojo grins, quickly shoving a half melted spatula to the bottom of the trash can. 

“hi,” you murmur, tipping the bill of your cap down as you close the door behind you. odd. he doesn’t think he’s seen you wear a hat before. 

“how was it?” he asks, flicking off the stove and closing in to welcome you properly with a kiss. well, he attempts to. you immediately take a step back, avoiding his embrace. he definitely doesn’t remember a time you’ve ever done that.

“i’m all sweaty,” you tell him, toeing your boots off and heading straight toward the bedroom. you say hello to the kids before shutting the door, the lock clicking into place. 

“are you mad at me?” he asks as soon as he warps into the room.

“satoru!” you startle, staggering back into the door. “get out!”

“nope,” he hums, closing in on you. “we sleep in the same room and you know that i don’t respect boundaries.” 

with that, he reaches over and pulls the baseball cap off your head. 

“satoru, please don’t freak out—”

he freaks out. 

he grabs your chin so you can’t turn away, inspecting the sutures lining your temple. “this is deep! are you okay? why were you hiding it from me?”

you swat his hand away, frowning. “i’m fine, and i wasn’t hiding it. i just didn’t want the kids to see. speaking of, did you guys eat dinner yet?”

“what grade curse was it?”

“special. i thought i smelled something burning—”

“you’re only grade one. why would they—”

“only grade one?” you repeat with a scoff. “don’t say it like that. you know the only reason i’m not special grade is because the zenin’s—”

“because the zenin’s are holding you back until you join them. they’re dicks, babe. that’s old news,” he finishes, tapping his foot impatiently. 

“listen,” you tell him, pinching the bridge of your nose. “i just didn’t get out of the way fast enough. it’s just a cut. i’ve had worse.” 

“well, next time they call you up for assignment, i’m coming with you,” he decides. “we’ll get a sitter for the kids and make it like a date night.”

“whoa,” you interrupt. “you’re inviting yourself on my assignments now? “do you think i’m not good enough?”

“well when you come home hurt, yeah!” 

he regrets it as soon as he says it. 

and he hates the way you’re looking at him. you’re hurt, and it shows. “wow. thanks for the vote of confidence.” 

“hey…”

he says your name, reaching for your hand, but you pull away, shaking your head.

_____

freshly showered and changed, you pull your robe on, exiting the bathroom. gojo’s sitting on the bed, waiting with his head in his hands.

“you know i think you’re more than capable,” he says quietly. “i wasn’t making a dig at your skill. you’re incredible.” 

“i know,” you hum, dumping your uniform into the basket. 

he looks up at you, apologetic. “but if anything happened to you, and you were really hurt…it would be my fault.”

“that’s not true,” you say quickly, sitting beside him. 

“it is,” he insists. “and i could never forgive myself, because i’m supposed to be the strongest.” 

(and what’s the point of being the strongest if he couldn’t protect the people he loved most?)

“satoru,” you murmur, smoothing a hand across his back. “you have such a big heart. i’m dating you because of your heart— well, mostly your abs but also your heart. ou already take on so much for everyone. and i need you to trust that i can’t take care of myself. i don’t want to be another burden to you.”

wordlessly, he takes your hand and presses it to his chest, so you can feel his heartbeat. 

“you are my whole heart. if i lost you and i could have stopped it, like i could’ve stopped—” he purses his lips, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “i just can’t lose you.” 

“and you won’t,” you promise, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “now let’s go have dinner.”

“ah. about that….”

_____

“alright, dinner’s served!”

you the kids exchange a look.

megumi leans close to you, whispering, “can we get sick from this?”

“go on,” satoru encourages, picking up his own sandwich. “it’s a spam sandwich! i used to eat these all the time before i met—”

“you’re really lucky you met her,” the twelve year old grumbles, peeling the bread back to look at the burnt piece of spam.

tsumiki, ever the people pleaser, takes a bite and chews very thoroughly before swallowing with great effort.

“um…the smoke added a nice hickory flavour to the spam.”

“okay, we’re getting pizza,” you decide, shooting your boyfriend an apologetic look.

[tojisun]

!! minors dni; simon x cam girl f!reader; kinda sexting; UNEDITED and RAMBLING // divider by @/plutism <3

yall know those ‘ask me’ thingies in instagram and how theyre not anonymous? mmmprmn thinkin about simon finally giving in and sends cam girl! reader replies (he’s not tech savvy, forgive him 😔)

the questions are always fashioned the same way, he’s noticed. you only ever post those, anyway, when you’re in the middle of editing a new video but it’s taking too long so to keep your loyal viewers interested, you entertain them with little questions.

“which toy next?” you posted, showcasing four different sex toys splayed on your bed—a purple sucking vibrator, that bullet vibrator you’ve made multiple videos on, a rainbow-coloured dildo, and another one that squirts which is simon’s favourite if he’s being honest.

you always did cum the hardest when you’re being pumped full. simon wonders how much more intense would it be if you were properly fucked and filled; stuffed continuously, repeatedly, until your pussy’s all wet and sensitive. until it takes—

overtaken by his desire, he gives in and he types out his answer, “a real prick would look better in you.”

he didn’t expect you to see it, let alone for you to reply, but you did and simon reads it with a huff.

> ok troll

i’d volunteer myself, really. <

> yeah right. like i can trust you

what? you want proof that i can make you feel good? <

your reply doesn’t come in and he knows that you must want the whole interaction to end there, but simon won’t let you—doll, he’s finally managed to talk to the girl he’s been fantasizing about, did you really think he’d let the opportunity pass? you don’t even know how many times he’s fucked his fist to the videos of you bullying a dildo in your sopping cunt or the ones of you squirting while you ride that saddled vibrator that punches out guttural moans from the base of your throat.

jesus, just thinking about you mewling and creaming, your skin shimmering with your sweat, has simon chubbing up in his sweats.

so he gets bolder, changing his accounts—both this and the one he’s used to subscribe to your site—so that you know it’s him. he uploads pictures, exposing enough of himself that it feels real and authentic, and begins to tack on messages to every tips he gives.

it takes about two months until you finally caved.

> so… youre not a troll :(

why the sad face? did you want me to be? <

> course not!

> hby? what do YOU want

simon licks at his chapped lips, his legs unconsciously spreading already.

how about pics? show you what i was volunteering? <

> uh

> you wanna send a dick pic?

yeah. evens out the relationship, don’t it? after all, i just about know how your pussy looks and how it squirts. <

> youre soooo weird LOL

> but sure yea why not ig

simon snorts because try as you may, you don’t sound unbothered at all. after all, he knows you’ve been looking back at him—you followed him back in his socials, you even respond to all his tips and messages, and one time you even moaned his alias out loud during your stream. really, you’re not subtle with your own interest at all.

he pulls his sweats down and takes a pic of his half-chub. it’s a little blurry, and the angle captures more of the tuft of hair than the way his cock’s all flushed and filling-out, but simon knows what a decent dick picture looks like—they’ve all received numerous from mactavish—and this one looks good enough so he sends it to you and watches as his message goes from delivered to seen.

you don’t reply right away, nor after three minutes—he knows because the commercials ended and his game’s back on—and simon wonders if you’re back to ignoring him when—

> oh

> thats a good dick

he laughs, booming.

oh so you want it now? <

a speech bubble appears, then it disappears, then it appears again. this happens for a while and it’s somewhat entertaining to simon, mirth filling him up. then, you finally send your reply and this time simon couldn’t stop the barked out laughter that rumbles from his throat because you sent him your address.

simon’s out the door in minutes, his bike keys clutched in his fist.

[steddielations]

Upstaged | Part 2 | Part 1

It all makes sense.

When Eddie comes back from taking photos with the fans, he looks a little sheepish for the first time. Steve has about a million things to ask, mostly he just wants to laugh about the fucking odds, but he remembers the grace Eddie extended to him about the press ordeal.

Instead, he settles back with his lime soda and a simple question, “So, what kind of music are you into?”

A grateful smile breaks out across Eddie’s face, ecstatic to dive into that with Steve. Their lunch extends into dinner. Steve doesn’t have anywhere to be these days and Eddie practically jumps up and down when the meeting he was in the area for gets canceled. They stay there for a couple more hours, just talking. 

Their music taste overlaps at certain points, Eddie talks about how getting his first guitar from the pawn shop pretty much saved him, Steve recounts a little league story that makes Eddie laugh so hard he chokes on his soda.

It’s the most monumentally casual time Steve’s ever had with a new friend in public and he’s not ready for it to end. Even after exchanging numbers and promising to meet up again, they still linger together outside.

“So uh, I remember where I know you from now."

Eddie leans against the side of the building. It’s getting dark, they’re tucked away from any eyes so Steve freely scoots closer to Eddie, waiting for him to explain. He does after a moment, seeming nervous and fiddling with his rings.

“I hate to ask, but my Uncle is huge into baseball, especially you and your general all-around-awesome thing. There weren’t players like you to look up to when he was young, all that. I’ve seen you on his tv so many times, you’re basically part of the family— ah shit, that’s weird, sorry,” he cringes a little, scrunching his nose in a way that makes Steve’s chest clench with affection, “But he’s getting old and like I said earlier, he’s my rock, he raised me and I won’t forgive myself if I don’t at least ask you to come see him sometime.”

The way he rambles is pretty endearing, looking at Steve with a wide-eyed hopeful expression, as if there was even a chance Steve would say no.

He reaches out, gently takes Eddie’s hand to stop his restless fidgeting, “You want me to meet your folks already, hm?”

Eddie lets out an amused scoff, looking down at their hands and back at Steve like he can’t believe it. “You’re not as funny as you think you are, Steve.” 

Steve knits his brows, “Why’s that?”

“C’mon man. Y’know how hard it is to find someone who can handle this lifestyle, let alone all the shit that comes with me,” shaking his head a little, Eddie smiles but there’s something aching in it, “Then the nicest looking guy I’ve ever seen comes outta nowhere and saves my life, agrees to go to lunch, happens too know as well as me that life in the limelight ain’t always pretty and turns out to be one of the best people I’ve ever met.”

His fingers thread through Steve’s, holding tight like he’s not sure it’s real. “Even if I never see you again, I’m gonna write songs about you. I’d take you home and keep you right now if I could, but that’s not happening.”

There’s a part of Steve he’s kept shut down for years that comes pumping through his veins then, hot and alive. He realizes that he’s been trying so hard to keep his life as normal as possible that he’s been missing out on actually living it. Now he has this wonderful, crazy, wonderful man spontaneously in front of him and he’s not letting him slip away. 

Steve moves in, slowly crowding Eddie against the wall. Eddie’s eyes go a little wide with surprise then darken with desire. Steve watches his face shift through so many emotions, his mouth parting with a soft gasp, wanting this just as badly as Steve.

“Wanna bet?” Steve asks before he crashes into Eddie again. 

This time it’s a hot press of lips instead of a full-body collision, but it’s just as breathtaking.

Steve deepens the kiss, thrill prickling all across his skin when Eddie opens up for him right away. Steve licks passed the bright hint of lime on their tongues to get to Eddie. The heady taste of him makes Steve’s world spin, all the desperate noises between them going straight to his head.

“Want you so bad, Eddie, wanna keep you too,” he threads his fingers into all that hair, reveling in the shiver it elicits from Eddie, “God, just wanna have you.”

Eddie chases his lips, “You can, Steve, you can have me— please do.”  

Steve loves the sound of that, going in for a longer, more indulgent kiss before pulling back.

“You can’t take me home tonight,” he professes hotly against Eddie’s lips, “My place is closer, you’re coming with me.”

[azulsluver]

Ur bully au is so good I could slurp it up but it got me wondering

How would all the students react to the reader just. trying to kill themselves because of the endless torment? would they keep harassing? would they say something about it? or would they tone it down? I must know because If I was in that situation i know damn well unaliving myself would be the first option

There’s more than one asking but ima just get this over with

tw. yandere, attempted suicide, suicide, cutting, bully!characters, mentioned torture, humiliation, blood, slight gore, neglection, fucked up reader (deadass).

Here are some thoughts and reactions bellow!

When asking, what role does this character do in this so called ‘bully!au’? You have to look at a deeper perspective of how each person behaves, what the intention is, and how it’s done.

So when the subject of suicide is involved it can get confusing depending on what caused it. Self worth is hinted in the reader, insecurities are brought and laughed at because it needs to hit a spot. Because YOU have feelings, watching it be stripped by people in far greater power than you, people with money, influence, and within number. Standing up to a bully is difficult, the struggles you go through should’ve been realistic.

When push comes to shove, they’re not all coming for you. If you enjoy the idea of every character ruining your life— that’s fine— but, it’s usually one or three. I think it’s childish, when I first made this AU, some sort of amusement in finding hurt but comfort when writing, they’re not trying to kill you, you know. You just catch their eye, more than they could like. Rejection is one thing, but another is a fair game of a sadistic approach. Whether they verbally or physically abuse you is up to place bets on what kills you.

For NRC years, yes, they constantly nagged and followed you around. But the times they would actively seek you out would be less than you think, the focus on bullying would be isolation. They don’t have to hurt you everyday. Some time for yourself to heal and think over your situation. What would you eat? Would they play nice and ignore you for tonight? Did your look piss off someone from afar? Let them cheat off you! Don’t be such a bore, it’ll all go back to just you and Grim.

If you picked up self harming, it’s noticeable. Hiding it is nearly impossible. They grab and bite at you already so what makes you think hiding was a good idea? It’s nasty and unplanned, miss them? Miss their touch that you havta recreate it? It’s horrible to mention, but caring really depends on who calls you out.

I can say you like it. Or you fucking hate it. You hate, hateee, how they treat you. You crawl on all fours for them to laugh and pat your head, do a dare and lick off from their hand but money is involved.

What did you do, was it simple, messy, perfect headshot if you will. If your need to die was to simply hurt them in any way— it might work. Poor them, they can’t imagine being away from you for too long. Some are more uninterested than the others. Who gives a shit you died? Whoever had the luck of finding you, dead or in the act, serves a purpose of letting you live or die. Cruel as they may be, you tug at a couple of heart strings.

Let’s say it was an attempt:

Sprang into action, either holding you down or taking whatever object you’re using to harm yourself. They’re gonna make sure this doesn’t happen again, you gave them quite the spook. Have fun being watched 24/7, and if they couldn’t, everything will be baby proofed for your safety, isn’t that nice, they care. Thrash all you want, screaming and crying won’t get you anywhere, but they’ll bite their tongue once and a while to prevent this from happening.

Trey, Riddle, Azul, Vil, Jack, Deuce, Sebek,

Oohh…he’s so sorry. Please forgive him, crying on his knees and rubbing his head against your chest. It doesn’t matter if the blood stains his clothes, you nearly died and he feels awful. He promises so many times for harm to look the other way, twisted, yet unavoidable. Trapped in a tight, monitored schedule were his scent and voice is all you’ll ever need. But at least there’s a change of heart, your health is improving and that’s all that matters to him, but speak to him, he wants to hear you.

Silver, Malleus, Kalim

Should he have stopped you, but what good will it do for him? Frozen in the moment, their bodies do the thinking, rational, to prevent you from escaping them. You’re funny, reaaal funny, got good jokes at time. But, he’s not really laughing. A little, but it’s hysterically funny and scary. Because he’s still so rough, even when he apologizes yet calls you stupid, his fingers hurt you more than whatever you had planned, gripping, as if you really died.

Jamil, Ace, Cater, Ruggie, Leona, Idia, Floyd, Epel

Does it hurt? Did you find your ulna? Was the rope too tight? It feels like he’s only here to see the end credits, the finale. The sick fuck is smiling too, gross. Giving up just leaves you with him by your side, pressing it deeper to help you get the job done…just kidding! That was quite a show you put on, this is why he likes you. Being responsible of another’s cause of death isn’t ideal, so he’ll try to watch you as of now.

Lilia, Rook, Jade

From that list alone you can guess who’s to mourn, and who savors what is left. Death is inevitable. Everyone dies one way.

[silassinclair]

Yandere Boxer x Reader 2

Masterlist Here!! // Previous Part Here!

CW // Nonconsentual touching

A couple days have passed since Vladimir has been on life support. And today he finally woke up.

“Doc…?”

You turn your head inhumanly fast when you hear the quiet mutter of the fighter. Rushing over to the bed you get some water and some medicine.

“You’re finally awake Vladimir. Everyone was worried about you.” You say and lean his bed up so he can drink some water.

Vladimir’s expression remains solemn. He’s thinking hard about something and it worries you. Vladimir has always been your least favorite guy here at the gym. He’d sexually harass you and catcall you everyday but he’s still your patient.

“Do you remember what happened? Who did this to you?” You ask him carefully.

The man’s knuckles whiten as his fist clenches and he utters gutturally, “I can’t remember.”

You nod in understanding. “That’s alright. What matters is your recovery.”

For the rest of the day you stay by Vladimir’s side until he was ready to walk on his own. He’s a tough guy so he was able to get up and leave all by himself. It’s late at night now though so it’s time for you to wrap it up. You pack your belongings in your backpack but pause when you hear your clinic door open. Facing the door you see Viktor, your ex childhood best friend.

“Clinic is closed for the day. Everyone left already so why are you still here?” You ask him.

Viktor just stands there quietly. He looks around the room and shoves his hands in his hoodie pocket.

“Just wanted to check on you.” He says in his deep timbre.

You look at him skeptically. “Do you need something?”

He faces you with a small crooked frown. “No…”

Viktor has always been the quiet type. Even when he was a little boy. Some habits never change you supposed.

“Viktor I know you’re here for a reason. You can tell me.” You say and offer him a rare smile.

The tall man gives a guttural hum before saying, “It’s unsafe for you to go home at this hour alone.”

Ah, so that’s what this is about. He’s worried about you. But why now? Here he is wanting to keep you safe yet he brushed you aside in high school like you were a leech. What changed his tune?

“Viktor I’m perfectly capable of going home myself.”

He grunts disapprovingly and takes large steps closer to you making you freeze. His body is so close to yours now. Only mere inches separating the two of you. To look him in the eye you have to crane your neck up just because of his sheer height.

Ever so slowly he puts a large, roughened hand on your shoulder. His expression is sincere as he says, “Kroshechnyy (Tiny) please. I can’t explain why I did what I did in high school right now. The story is far too long and complicated. And I do apologize for leaving you all alone and casting you away. I don’t ask for forgiveness, all I ask for is for you to let me make up for not being there for you.”

You take in his words wholeheartedly and nod in understanding. Viktor is mature, everything he does is with reason and comes with explanation. And there is no hatred in your heart towards him. You could never hate Viktor even if you tried. So you nod.

“Okay. I expect an explanation one day because I’m worried about you. It… really scared me when you suddenly cut all contact. I don’t forgive you but I won’t let our past affect our jobs. So let’s just take things slow and build our way to becoming friends again?”

Your answer made the stoic man’s heart soar above the atmosphere. All he can think of is that he has a chance again. He couldn’t help but pull you into an embrace. An embrace he’s been thinking of for years. Viktor’s missed your touch, how your body melted against his as you cried into his chest when you ran away from home. Or how you’d cuddle against him while watching an R rated movie when you two weren’t supposed to. He’s missed you so so badly.

You on the other hand felt like you just got swallowed whole by a whale. Sometimes you forget how puberty hit Viktor like a freight train. Unlike when you two were kids his hugs now felt like you were being eaten. Your arms can barely wrap around his torso for goodness sakes! But this is getting really awkward for you so you pat his back with your hand.

“Uhm can you let go of me now? We’re not quite friends yet Viktor. I'm still pretty mad at you.”

The giant lets go of your smaller frame with the face of an injured puppy. Never would you have thought that an ass kicking brutality machine like Viktor would pout.

“I’m sorry. I just missed you a lot.” He mutters with his head down in shame.

"I understand that but you have to understand how I feel too Viktor. You really hurt me back then. So let's just keep our hands to ourselves yeah?"

He nods reluctantly and follows you out of the clinic and into the main gym. All the lights are off, only the ominous glow of moonlight through the windows provides light. Once you two arrive outside you both make your way down the sidewalk together. You didn't have a car or bike so you walked everywhere. It's unsafe but you can't afford safety.

"It's supposed to snow today."

"Huh?"

You look up at Viktor in question. "What did you say again?"

But at that very moment you felt the icy touch of a snowflake land on your nose. And seconds later millions of more flakes fell from the black night sky. Each flake was fat and heavy; not just little flurries of ice. No, this was real snow. And it was damn cold too.

"Oh no I should have taken the bus. Fuck." You curse to yourself. "I'm sorry for dragging you with me Viktor. Go head home now, I can get home myself."

"Don't say sorry. I asked to come with you. My fault." Viktor utters. But you don't hear him well. Instead you utter a quick goodbye and tell him to get home safe. You continue on your way home by yourself leaving Viktor behind. The snow rises on the sidewalk millimeters by the second making your walk more slippery and annoying.

When you arrive at the front door of your cheap apartment a wave of warmth washes over you. Maybe the cold has made you go numb and this is an illusion of warmth. Unlocking the door and going inside you stomp your shoes on the doormat to get the pesky snowflakes off. So does Viktor.

Viktor...

"VIKTOR?!" You shout and look up at him. Low and behold there's the 6'3 boxer right at your closed door. How could you miss him? He's fucking huge!

"There's no need to yell. We are indoors." He mutters and looks around at your messy apartment from where he stands like a statue.

Opening the door with a swing you put your hands on Viktor's chest and try to push him out. "Get out of my house! How did you even get here?!"

He looks at you plainly while you try to push his unmoving form out the door. "I said I would walk you home. Also this is an apartment, not a house."

The door shuts with a loud slam from the sheer force of your swing. "Quit messing with me! You can't be here Viktor! This is my hou- apartment!"

He just looks down at you and nods.

"Viktor! Ugh oh my god you're so freaking dense! I'm a woman." You gesture to your chest.

"I'm aware." He replies, eyes locked on your chest.

"N-NO! Stop looking at my chest!" He doesn't even flinch when you shove your palm in his eyes to make him look away.

"You wanted me to look at it."

"NO I-!" Your arms slap down to your sides. "Ugh... The point is that you can't just be in a woman's apartment. Especially without her permission! You're a man, I'm a woman. It's inappropriate."

Viktor quirks an eyebrow. "What are you implying?" His dark downcast eyes gaze into your own. A mixture of complex emotion stir within yours while there's only one in his.

Pure, Unadulterated, Affection

"Kroshechnyy." He hums gently and twirls a lock of your h/c hair in his finger. He's close, too close for friends let alone work acquittances. You can smell the shower gel and the dupe designer perfume on him. It's intoxicating.

But this is Viktor… the same man who one day cut you off and treated you like a stranger. You snap out of your daze and slap his hand away. "Stop that. We're not going there. You can stay here until the snow storm clears. But the moment the last flake falls I want you out."

He smirks and nods with a hum. "Thank you." Viktor hangs his jacket on your coat rack and steps further into your messy apartment. Not wanting him to trip in the dark you flick the light switch on.

Your living room is small. Small couch, small T.V, small dining table in the corner. There’s a tower of unwashed dishes in the sink and a bunch of medical textbooks on the table.

“I didn’t know I’d have a guest over so I didn’t tidy up.” You say as you scurry around the living space to clear some of the clutter.

“Hmm.” Viktor hums. Instead of standing like his usual still self he decides to help you clean, much to your dismissal.

“Hey you don’t have to do that! I got it.”

“Hm.”

He’s got it.

“No no don’t bother trying to clean that off, it’s been stained like that for months.”

“Hm.”

The stain is gone.

It goes back and forth like this for half an hour until your living room is all tidied up. This would have taken you over an hour without Viktor’s help. And you feel bad for having him help but you can’t help but feel grateful.

You two are seated at the table. As a subtle thanks to him you give him some left over beef stew which he devours under minutes.

“Thank you for helping me clean up… I appreciate it.” You thank him shyly.

Viktor looks up at you from his empty bowl. “No problem. Think of it as a favor between friends.”

The soft smile that grows on your face can’t be helped. His words were just so sweet. Viktor really was trying to make up for the past. And you understand he can’t tell you why he suddenly shut you out but you do know that the reason was likely for your own good. He did mention he got involved with bad people…

But there’s other issues at hand now. Like sleeping arrangements. The couch is tiny. No way could Viktor sleep on it. You however can kinda fit on it. Well, a quarter of your legs will be hanging off but it’s either that or sharing a bed with Viktor. And you’d rather not.

“So sleeping arrangements. I’ll take the couch since you won’t fit and you can take my bed.” You say and put away his bowl.

Viktor follows you into the kitchen as you wash the dish. “No. This is your home. You will sleep on your bed.”

“But what about you?” You say slightly worried. If he sleeps on the couch he’ll get some serious muscle pains. And that isn’t good for him considering he’s a boxer.

“Simple. We share bed.” He smiles with a small dopey grin.

“Absolutely not.”

“You’re hogging the blankets.”

“Бо” (no)

“Yes you are.”

“Бо”

“You 6 foot bump on a log; I swear to god I’ll kick you off this bed and you’ll sleep on the floor.”

“I’d like to see you try kroshechnyy. Also, I am 6 foot 3 inches. Get it correct.”

You groan and turn the other way. It was like you two were kids again, bickering and fighting over who got most of the blanket.

After a large yawn you mumble, “Whatever. I’m exhausted so goodnight…”

Viktor says nothing in return. After a little under half an hour though you begin to snore softly after succumbing to your slumber. Viktor on the other hand has been wide awake the whole time. Flat on his back he stared at the ceiling waiting for you to fall asleep.

And now you were.

He leans up slowly as to not rustle the covers too much. Your eyes are shut and your lips are slightly parted, a tell tale sign of deep sleep. Slowly and carefully Viktor gets out of the bed. He walks around to your side where you lay asleep and vulnerable. Dark thoughts come to mind. He could do anything he wanted to you. You’re so small and weak compared to him. There’s no stopping him if he just picks you up and takes you home with him.

Scarred fingers gently brush against the plush of your cheeks. They’re so soft and warm.

“Cute.” He thinks to himself with a smile. Everything about you was adorable. Your protective nature of people because you’re a doctor, your height, your smile, and your personality.

Viktor’s so proud of you. He’s proud that you were able to make it out of the trenches of their east European town unscathed. Unlike him; he had to go through hell and back just to make enough money for food. He was never book smart like you. He was street smart, but street smarts didn’t put food on your plate.

His hands wander to your bare collarbone. Why would you wear such a revealing night shirt in the same bed as him? You were the one going on about how he was a man and you were a woman after all. But here you are seducing him with that low rise silk night top.

“My beautiful girl.” He whispers lowly while tracing over your skin with the tip of his finger.

“What do I have to do to make you mine?… I’ll do anything.”

“And I mean it.”

[harryslittlefreakk]

too sweet

summary: essentially porn with little plot… or .. when her boss decides that letting her go is in her best interests, y/n decides to show him exactly what he’s missing out on.

warnings: swearing, light angst, smut (rough sex, oral m receiving, slight domrry) also don’t ask me how he can receive oral if she’s on the desk ?? it just happened

wordcount: 2.8k

a/n: much like the rest of the world, i can’t stop listening to too sweet :) and to me it has ceorry written all over it!! as always please let me know if you enjoyed!! I really want to start trying my hand at more tropes and aus so please let me know if there’s anything you’d like to see!!!

my masterlist & taglist can be found here 💖 love you

“Mr Styles, I-”

“I promise you, sweetheart. It’s not a set back, it’s just-”

“I can show you, please.” You were begging and pleading like this job hadn’t been draining the life out of you for months now. You knew that Harry was right, but you didn’t want to, couldn’t, accept another failure.

“Listen.” His words were stern but his face was soft as he reached over the table, placing a ringed hand over the top of yours. “It’s not personal. To succeed in this business you need grit. No one ever got to the top without a hint of cunt, me included.”

He held up his free hand as you opened your mouth, silencing you before the words had even begun to form. “You are special. You don’t have that mean streak, and I refuse to be the one to manufacture it within you. I will find a spot in this company for you, shift people around if I have to. You need to find a role that grows with you, not one that will tear you down.”

You nodded slowly, speechless as his words sunk in. How can you be fired for being too nice? Not cunty enough? You tugged your hand away from Harry’s as if it burned you, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “Is this because of the cakes?” you asked, cringing as you thought back to all the nice things you’d done around the office. If you weren’t supposed to be nice, why not put that in the job description? Under requirements: IT skills, maths degree, asshole.

Harry laughed, leaning back in his seat as he grinned at you. “In a way, I guess it is because of the cakes. Just trust me, okay? This is for the best. I’d never forgive myself if I turned you into a monster. Finance is a cut-throat world,” he finished, staring out into the office.

When he didn’t say anymore, you stood up, smoothing out your skirt across your thighs. “Thank you for your time, Mr Styles. I’ll wrap up my work and send it over to you, I assume you won’t need me past lunch?”

“No, that’s all. Thank you y/n,” he smiled, nodding as you turned away.

“Dick,” you muttered, pulling the door closed behind you. You could hardly rant and rave to his face, especially after repeatedly hearing how nice you are, but you were inwardly seething. Treating your colleagues like shit would be a good reason to get fired, treating your clients like shit would be a better one. But to be too kind? You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make sense to you, but it was still downright unfair. You had grit, and you’d show him.

You sat silent and dignified until the office left for lunch, wrapping up with the clients you had and sending the remainder to Harry. No one stayed past lunch on a Friday, so the second the last stragglers left, you rushed to the Harry’s office door. You had no game plan, except for bursting in and proving him wrong. Only, as soon as you were about to reach out and knock on the door, it swung open. “Y/n.”

“I have grit,” you told him, slipping past him into his office. It was all you could think to say.

“I-”

���Close the door please,” you motioned your head towards Harry’s seat, signalling for him to sit back down. He was frozen in the doorway, an amused smirk dancing on his lips. “I have grit,” you repeated, gaze following Harry as he pushed the door closed and circled back around his desk.

“You said that,” he sniggered, loosening his grey tie as he watched you pace around the office. “If I didn’t have grit,” you started, willing something entirely different to come out your mouth, knowing that it wouldn’t. “I wouldn’t mention that I know you spent the entire Christmas party in here with Stephanie. With the door locked. And I wouldn’t mention that I’ve noticed the way you look at me,” you finished, eyes glued to the skyline behind Harry’s head.

His jaw clenched a few times, his hands flexing against the wood of his desk. “Good point,” he murmured, his expression totally unreadable as he looked at you. “Come and sit down.”

You padded over tentatively, fingertips gripping the back of the chair as you pulled it out in front of you.

“Not there.” He pushed his chair back, tapping on the wood between his hands.

“What are you-” you started, gaze darting between Harry’s icy stare and your feet, dragging themselves the short distance to Harry’s desk.

“You came here to show me you have grit, no?”

You nodded, heart in your throat as you perched on the edge. “How were you going to show me?” he continued, his eyes unrelenting in their pursuit of weakness within you.

You knew what your game-plan was, but you weren’t expecting Harry to catch on and call your bluff. His voice was muffled by the blood pounding in your ears, your jaw tight as you tried to remain composed under his watch. He leaned back when you stayed silent, one eyebrow raising slightly as his gaze raked down your body. “What were you going to do, y/n?” he asked again, hooking one foot around yours to pull your legs open.

A tiny gasp falling from your lips was the only sound you made, the tension hanging heavy in the air. Harry reached forward, pushing your skirt up around your hips until he saw a flash of your red panties. “I think,” he started, fingertips trailing down your exposed thigh. “You were going to show me that sweet little cunt, show me what it can do. Am I right?” he continued, satisfied as he looked at the trail of goosebumps his touch had left.

You nodded again, eyes fluttering closed in a bid to expel some of the anticipation creeping through your core. “Use your words,” Harry muttered, tugging on your thighs until you landed in his lap.

You opened your eyes, inches away from his face as he splayed a hand across your lower back. “Yes, sir,” you whispered, a shiver running down your spine. His cock twitched beneath your core at the name, his eyes dark.

“From this moment onwards, anything that happens within these walls is between us. Do you understand?” Harry asked, his voice husky and yet somehow softer than you’d ever heard it.

“Of course,” you replied, hoping your eyes communicated the sincerity that your words couldn’t.

Harry placed his free hand on your hip, pushing you down slightly until his firm cock bulged against your entrance.

“What are you and your grit going to do about this then?” he smirked, his fingertips digging into your clothed flesh. You almost choked on the lump in your throat, eyes bulging as you shifted on top of Harry’s girth. His stare was like a challenge, daring you to retreat or prove yourself wrong. But you’d gone too far to back down now, so you swallowed the first taste of tomorrow’s regret and locked your eyes on his, rolling your hips across his lap before stepping off of him.

You answered his questioning frown by sitting back on your heels between his legs, reaching forward with a tentative hand to palm him over his trousers. Harry let you feel him for a second, before swatting you away to unzip his slacks and push them down his thighs.

From the moment you’d first met him, you knew Harry was objectively hot. He was attractive in the same way a friend’s dad would be - enough to appreciate but too out of reach for it to be any more than that. But now as you stared up at him, the strained fabric of his Calvins tight against the cock he was about to fuck your face with, he was the most attractive man you’d ever seen.

Harry tugged the waistband of his boxers down, only enough to set his length free, grabbing hold of your wrist. “No one is to know,” he growled, waiting for your confirmation before guiding your hand to his length.

“No one, sir,” you murmured, pressing your parted lips to the side of his shaft as he pulled his hand away.

“Good girl,” was all Harry could manage as your pout wrapped around his tip, your tongue swirling across the nerves. You let your saliva drip down him, rubbing it across his skin with an unsteady yet firm hand. It felt dirty, transactional almost as if he might let you stay if you performed well enough for him. But you knew you didn’t want that, and he wouldn’t want you working for him once you’d milked his cock for all it had.

You could feel his eyes on you as you pulled your mouth away from him, your hand still working up and down his length. Your gaze darted up to meet his, the hunger in his eyes unlike anything you’d seen before. He was almost animalistic, something feral juxtaposed in his features as he watched you silently, frozen in place. You willed yourself to look away as you bent further down, poking out your tongue to lick a wet line along his cock, but you couldn’t focus on anything but Harry’s face. Your arousal was pooling between your thighs, a breathy moan tumbling past your lips as you took more of him into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat.

You couldn’t take him all, not even close, so your hands worked at the rest of him, one wrapped around his base while the other found his balls, squeezing them gently as your cheeks tightened against his girth. Harry let out a small groan, his first display of your mouth having any effect on him, his hand instinctively tangling into your hair as if he’d been here with you before.

He used his grip to hold your head steady, directing your mouth up and down his length. His cock was knocking into the back of your throat, your whimpers mixing with groans and splutters, until he stopped suddenly, pushing back in his chair until there was distance between the two of you. You were too much, the sight of your pout wrapped around his tip too much for him to take.

“Up,” he demanded, placing a protective hand over the edge of the desk to save you knocking your head. You pulled yourself up to meet where he stood, resting against the desk to take the weight off your shaky legs. Harry’s thumb swiped across your jaw, his eyes fixed on your face. Your swollen red pout, your heavy-lidded eyes, mascara gathered under your lower lashes. You looked a fucking mess, and he was loving every second of it.

He bent down slightly, fingers slipping under your skirt to hook around the side of your panties. He pulled them off, helping you to raise both feet, before stuffing them into the pocket of his slacks.

“Turn around,” Harry murmured, nodding as you obeyed him. His fingers trailed across your hips, pushing on your back until your stomach hit the wood of his desk.

You let out a whimper as he pressed a hand between your legs, his fingertips dancing across your skin until they met your entrance, hot and sticky and so ready for him. Harry swiped a finger through your folds, a tiny chuckle the only sound he made as you squirmed, his free hand splayed across your back, keeping you pinned down. “Got yourself all worked up f’me, huh?” he drawled, voice so low it sent shivers down your spine.

You nodded, too overcome with need to form any words. Harry pressed into you, collecting your juices on his tip before pushing himself inside, eyes screwed shut as your walls constricted around him. Your whimpers turned into a string of expletives, his girth too much for you to take. “Tight little cunt, all for me,” Harry whispered, stilling inside of you now that he’d bottomed out. His hands were digging into the skin of your ass, your curves engulfing the base of his cock. “All for you,” you panted, desperately trying to find something to grip on to, something to steady you while Harry tore you in two.

He pulled back, mouth hanging open as he watched himself emerge from your pretty pink lips, his length already smothered in your juices. He wanted to resist, to be gentle with you, but your cunt was begging him to destroy it, to instil in it some of the grit you claimed to have. It was between his head and his heart, yet Harry could only think with his cock.

He slammed into you hard, your hips knocking against the edge of his desk, the contents of his drawers rattling as he drilled into you. His office was far from sound proof, and any stragglers left in the building would hear nothing but your cries and screams as he rocked his hips into yours, his cock hitting every inch of you. But that only spurred him on further, the thrill of your pleasure coursing through his veins. He landed a blow on the curve of your ass, a satisfied grin spreading across his face as he watched the red hand print appear, the skin bouncing with every snap of his hips.

“Fuck, Har- fuck,” you cried, breathless as Harry slammed his hips into yours before pulling out completely. He grabbed at your waist, tugging at your dress for you to turn over. “I need to see you,” he growled, eyes completely darkened when you turned to face him. You’d never seen him with as much as a hair out of place, yet now he looked possessed by his own lust. He was messy, curls hanging down his forehead and a blush to his cheeks, shirt half unbuttoned.

He circled around your clit as you looked him up and down, eyes never leaving yours. “Taking me like a fucking good girl,” he whispered, pushing back into your entrance.

“I can’t- please, sir,” you whimpered, chest heaving as he continued fucking into you with the same ferocity as before. Between his cock, his fingers, his face, you were coming apart. He was twitching inside of you with every moan that left your lips, his own climax creeping up as quickly as yours was. He stilled for a moment, his fingers never ceasing as they rubbed pleasure into your nerves. “You can, and you will. Come for me,” he urged, grabbing a hold of your waist as he thrust into you, each snap of his hips pushing you closer to the edge.

“I’m, fuck-” was all you could cry, your mouth falling open as you shook and writhed under him, his words coaxing out an orgasm stronger than you’d ever imagined. Your eyes brimming with tears, brows knitted as you cried out, hips bucking into the palm of his hand. Harry slowed down slightly, seconds between each thrust as he worked you through your high, your cream coating every inch of his thick cock.

The second you stilled, he slipped his hand under your back, pulling you up to sit as he pulled his cock from you. Harry dragged a thumb across your bottom lip, smirking at your tiny pout as you felt the emptiness in your cunt. “Open up,” he whispered, replacing his thumb with his tip, pushing it past your lips as he worked his hand up and down the length.

You took him into your mouth for the second time that day, the mix of your juices like sweet nectar against your tongue. You were dizzy from your climax, every inch of your core on fire from the sheer brutality of his cock, your walls still pulsing. Harry was grunting and groaning, even his moans husky as he twitched between your lips, his jaw tensing as he came undone, hot cum shooting to the back of your throat.

He held a hand to the nape of your neck, grounding himself as he bucked into you, filling you up at a much faster rate than you could swallow. “Good girl,” he cooed, letting you lick every last drop of cum from his tip before he pulled away, sinking down into his chair as his hand dropped down your body.

You leaned your arms back against the desk, eyes glued to the ceiling as you tried to catch your breath, the stinging of your entrance doubled by the sudden lack of touch.

Harry kept watching you, still under your spell, unable to will his eyes away as you panted. “You have grit,” he whispered, a glimmer in his eye. “But I can’t let you work for me after that.”

“As long as you know I have grit, Mr. Styles,” you smirked, rolling your head down to look at him again.

taglist: @angeldavis777 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @palmettogal508 @drewsephrry @vonnexann @austiebuttbutt @indigo24hughes @peterparkerbae @im-an-overthinker @daphnesutton @loveableidioticweirdo @harryshotpocket @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swag13r @ashleighsss @tswiftsgf @chesthairrry @nikkisimps @hannah9921 @lilfreakjez @prettygurl-2009 @s-h-e-l-b-e-e @indierockgirrl @cicicavill7 @harrystylesluverrrr @cohnfusedarling @ell0ra-br3kk3r @stylesfever

[waitimcomingtoo]

He’ll Have To Get In Line

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader

Synopsis: Peeta amps up the star crossed lovers act when Finnick takes a liking to you

Masterlist

As you waited to get into your chariot for your second tribute parade, you calmed your nerves by petting the horses. You kept your head down with a plan to stay away from the other tributes until you knew what you were dealing with. Your plan was tossed aside when one of the tributes, Finnick Odair, saw you by yourself and approached you. He was noisily munching on a sugar cube as he walked up to you, making you look up. You noticed his bare chest, and then perfect chiseled face before gulping.

“Sugar?” He asked you.

“What?” You asked, too distracted by his lack of apparel that you weren’t listening.

“Sugar cubes. They’re good.” He explained as he held up a sugar cube.

“No thank you. I think those are for the horses.”

“Eh, who cares. They get enough of them. And they’re not the ones headed into a death game, right?” He chuckled and popped another into his mouth. You weren’t expected him to make light of your situation since no one else ever really did so you faked a laugh along with him.

“That was a fake laugh. But I’ll forgive you since we’re friends now.” Finnick said as he popped another sugar cube into his mouth. You felt embarrassed that he caught on to your inauthenticity but he didn’t sound upset. He had a way of being very blunt in what he said but charismatic with how he said it.

“We’re friends? We don’t know anything about each other.” You pointed out.

“But we share two things in common. We won our games and we’re painfully good looking. Now, come on. Try a cube. They won’t have these in the area.” He said and held one out to you. You didn’t comment on him calling you good looking but took the cube from the palm of his hand with a coy smile.

“Taste it. It’s sweet.” He said with a debonair grin. You looked him in the eyes and bit into the cube, tasting a sweetness you had never known.

“You like it, don’t you?” He said and already knew your answer.

“I might.” You admitted as you popped the rest of the cube in your mouth.

“I knew you would. I saw you standing over here with the horses and said to myself, that girl likes it sweet. I just knew I had to offer you one.”

“Well, thank you. You were right.” You smiled and realized you had been smiling like a child the entire conversation so far. You quickly dropped your face and covered your mouth self consciously, but Finnick had already moved on.

“Oh my. Forgive me, I didn’t notice what you were wearing until now. Thats certainly a get up.” Finnick smirked as he looked you up and down.

“It’s for my district.” You said in embarrassment and covered yourself with your arms. The clothes Cinna had dressed you in were beautiful but far from something you’d pick for yourself.

“I know. I like it.” Finnick replied with a wink. You felt your breath hitch in your throat and the effortless charm he was just exuded and let your arms drop to your sides.

“Oh. Well, thank you. Cinna designed it.” You told him. The way Finnick was looking at you in the moment made you forget most things you knew, but nothing could make you forget to give credit to Cinna for his remarkable abilities.

“I should’ve known Cinna was behind this. He’s great. But it doesn’t matter what you’re wearing. No one’s gonna be looking at your outfit.” Finnick shrugged and looked you up and down again.

“What makes you say that?” You frowned. Finnick smirked a little as he reached towards your face and tilted your chin up with his thumb. You sucked in a sharp breath and stayed perfectly still as he gazed into your eyes.

“That pretty face is gonna get all the attention. Who could look away?” Finnick asked.

“Pretty?” You asked in almost a whisper.

“Extremely. But I’m assuming there’s another name I can call you by. I’m Finnick. And you?”

“Y/n.”

“And so you are. Lovely name for a lovely girl.” Finnick said and shot you another wink.

You smiled at him and momentarily forgot all about the parade and your nerves. You were so focused on the handsome boy in front of you that you didn’t notice Peeta in the distance. He was staring daggers at Finnick and trying to figure out what would possibly warrant him needing to touch your face. When he saw you laugh at something Finnick had said in a louder laugh than he had ever heard from you, his jealousy got the better of him. He walked up to where you were and stood beside you.

“Oh, hi Peeta. This is Finnick.” You said and gestured to Finnick. Finnick gave Peeta a wink but it was different from the one he had given you. Peeta’s jaw clenched and he stood up a little straighter.

“The parade is gonna start soon. Shouldn’t you finish putting on your outfit?” Peeta asked Finnick.

“This is my outfit.” Finnick chuckled and gestured to his shirtless torso and skirt made of fishing net.

“Oh. Wow. It’s so….unique.” Peeta replied and made no effort to hide his sarcasm.

“I know. My stylist likes to play up the whole pretty boy Capital darling thing. He said wearing a shirt would dull my charm.” Finnick shrugged and flexed his arms a little. Peeta heard you gulp and felt white hot jealousy go through his veins.

“I think he’s right.” You said with a nervous laugh.

“Do you? So it’s working then? I’m charming you?” Finnick asked and took a step closer to you. Peeta couldn’t help but roll his eyes all the way to the ceiling.

“I don’t know if I’d call it charm. But you’re definitely evoking some emotion.” Peeta said with a tight smile. Finnicks eyes left yours for a second to clock Peeta. He looked him up and down and smirked a little.

“You know what I think? I think that you and I should train together. I’m sure we have a lot to teach each other.” Finnick said as he turned his attention back to you.

“Oh. Okay. Sure.” You shrugged.

“I’m looking forward to it. I’ll see you out there.” Finnick gave you one last wink before walking away. You immediately smiled and waved to him as he left.

“See you!” You called after him. Peeta stepped in front of you once Finnick was gone to bring your attention back to earth.

“He was so nice. He probably heard about me and wants to learn archery.” You said with a smile.

“Bullshit.” Peeta mumbled.

“Woah. You need to put a coin in the swear jar for that one.” You laughed in surprise and folded your arms.

“I’m sorry. That was rude of me.” Peeta said genuinely. He felt bad for popping your bubble just to ease his own jealousy.

“Hey, I’m just kidding. It was entertaining to hear you swear. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“I had it in me. I have a lot of things in me.” Peeta insisted and suddenly worried if you saw him as less of a man now that you’d met the muscular and valorous Finnick.

“Like what?” You chuckled and raised and eyebrow.

“Nothing. Never mind. What else did you guys talk about?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think I blacked out a little. But we talked about the horses. And sugar.”

“Really, that’s all? You guys were talking for a while.” Peeta frowned.

“Honestly, I didn’t do much talking. He came at me with so many compliments and I was stunned to silence.” You realized.

“Compliments? What did he say?” Peeta forced a laugh so he didn’t come off as jealous as he felt that another man was complimenting you. It wasn’t just that he complimented you, but that you clearly liked it.

“He said I was pretty.” You admitted with a shy smile on your face.

“That’s it?“ Peeta scoffed.

“Why? Do you think I’m not pretty?” You asked and touched your cheek insecurely.

“No! Of course I do.” Peeta quickly explained. “I think you’re so pretty. I just don’t touch your face to tell you that.”

“Yeah. I guess he was pretty friendly.” You agreed and kept your hand on your face as you replayed him touching your chin.

“If that’s your way of putting “handsy”, then yes. Very friendly.” Peeta mumbled.

“I don’t know why I even care what some boy thinks. I guess I’m just not used to the attention. I can’t even remember the last time someone told me I was pretty.” You admitted as you played with the frills on your outfit. Peeta felt bad for making little of what Finnick has said when it clearly meant something to you.

“Maybe people think it but just don’t tell you.” Peeta said in a soft voice.

“I doubt it.” You shrugged.

“Well, don’t. Because I happen to think that you’re-“

“Good luck out there, pretty girl.” Finnick called from his chariot across the room. You looked over at Finnick and waved to him.

“Thanks. You too.” You called after him.

“I’ll have my eye on you.” He winked at you as his horses pulled him out of the room. You didn’t know what to say to that so you have an half hearted thumbs up while Peeta rolled his eyes.

“So what do you think? Should we train with him?” You asked once he was gone.

“Absolutely not.” Peeta said immediately.

“Really? Why not? He was the youngest ever winner of the games. He’s gotta be good, right?”

“I’m sure he is. But he’s not someone we should keep around.” Peeta replied.

“What makes you say that?”

“Because he asked me once if you and I were really in love or just putting on a show. And judging by his tone, I’m guessing he knows the answer.” Peeta whispered to you.

“He did?”

“Yeah. Right before telling me there isn’t gonna be any sugar or flour in the area so I’ll be out of luck.” Peeta grumbled, making you laugh. Peeta felt his jealousy return when he heard you laugh at Finnicks joke.

“Sorry. He was trying to be mean but that’s kinda funny.” You admitted.

“You think he’s funny?” Peeta asked quietly.

“No. I mean, I don’t know. I only just met him.”

“Hm.” Peeta hummed and looked to the side.

“What?” You wondered.

“Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

“I know. That’s why I’m asking. You always have something to say. Until now, mysteriously. Is everything okay?” You asked him and touched his shoulder. Peeta looked at where your hand had been and sighed before looking in your eyes.

“He’s been talking about you a lot lately. Like, a lot a lot.” Peeta admitted.

“Really?” You asked and didn’t hide how intrigued you were.

“One of the other tributes told me brings you up every chance he gets ever since we won the last games. He even said…” Peeta began but then trailed off.

“He said what?” You urged and shook his arm.

“He said he’s gonna have a hard time killing someone so pretty.” Peeta admitted. Your curiosity about Finnick quickly turned into fear.

“Was he joking?” You asked quietly.

“I think so. But I don’t find it funny.”

“Neither do I.” You agreed. You finally stopped thinking about Finnick long enough to look at what Peeta was wearing for the tribute parade. His shirt was made of the same material as your corset and bared his arms. You had never seen his arms exposed like that and wanted him to know you liked it.

“I like what Cinna put you in.” You changed the subject and nodded towards his outfit.

“Thanks. It’s cool and all but definitely not something I’d chose for myself.” Peeta laughed softly as he climbed into the chariot.

“Oh, I don’t know. I think you’ve been waiting to show off these arms for a while.” You teased him. He held out his hand and helped you climb up into the chariot.

“You really do look beautiful tonight.” He told you.

“Thank you. But I don’t really feel like me. I feel like I’m wearing someone else’s clothes. And their face.” You admitted as you pressed your fingertips into your cheeks and felt the layers of makeup you had on.

“I know the feeling. But it’s just for tonight. You can be you again tomorrow.” Peeta assured you.

“So can you.” You told him with a soft smile. He held out his hand and you held it the way you did the first time you rode in the tribute parade.

“We can be us.” He said.

Following the parade, you dismounted your chariot and let Peeta pick you up to help you off the platform. Once your feet were in the ground, Finnick came running over to you and pulled you into an unexpected hug.

“There she is. Great job out there today.” He said once he pulled away. Peeta was once again staring daggers at him and took a step closer to your side.

“Thank you. But I didn’t really do much. I just kinda stood there.” You shrugged.

“That’s all you need to do. And I swear, you were the only one I had my eyes on.” Finnick said and touched your chin again. Peeta cleared his throat and wrapped a protective arm around your waist. Finnick noticed this and looked into Peeta’s eyes with a cocky smirk.

“So, what will you do with the rest of your evening now that the whole world wants to sleep with you?” Finnick asked you, making yours and Peeta’s eyes go wide.

“I don’t know about that.” You laughed nervously.

“Hm. Maybe just me then.” Finnick said with a causal shrug. Peeta clenched his jaw and stepped forward to let Finnick know he needed to back off. Finnick laughed and held up his hands in defense.

“Ah, I’m only kidding Peeta. I wouldn’t try to steal your girl right in front of you.” Finnick assured him.

“Oh. Good.” Peeta relaxed a little when he heard Finnick refer to you as “his” girl.

“I’d wait until your back is turned.” Finnick quickly followed up, making you laugh in surprise.

“Come on. I’m joking.” Finnick grinned and patted Peeta’s shoulder.

“Aren’t jokes supposed to be funny?” Peeta asked with a tight smile.

“Hey, I’m just messing with you guys. I’m like this with everyone. I just like to have a little fun so don’t take it out on me in the games, okay?” Finnick said and patted Peeta’s arm again, making Peeta yank it back and give him a look.

“I’ll let you guys go. We have a lot of training to do tomorrow so don’t keep her up all night, all right Peeta?” Finnick laughed as he walked away.

“No promises.” Peeta grumpily called after him. You stepped in front of Peeta and folded your arms once Finnick was gone.

“You’re gonna keep me up all night, huh?” You teased him.

“Shut up. He started it.” Peeta grumbled.

“And you certainly ended it. Come on. Let’s go to bed.” You said and started walking towards the sleeping facilities. Peeta followed you to the girls ward and lingered outside your door.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” Peeta asked with a bit of a whine in his voice.

“You want to? I assumed your want the big fancy bed in your room all to yourself.”

“I just don’t want people to get suspicious if they see us sleeping in separate rooms. Since we’re madly in love and all that.” Peeta explained with a coy smile.

“Good point. Come in.” You playfully rolled your eyes at him and let him into your room. You slept on his chest like you usually did and he forgot all about Finnick.

In the morning, you and Peeta went downstairs join the rest of the tributes for a welcome breakfast. When you walked into the room together, Finnick was the first to greet you.

“Good morning, you two. I hope you got some sleep.” Finnick said with a suggestion wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Not much.” You said through a yawn. The other tributes at the table snickered and exchanged knowing looks with each other. You realized how that sounded and felt embarrassed.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You whispered to Peeta.

“It’s okay. Roll with it. It helps our act.” He whispered back and gave your arm a squeeze.

“Here. I saved you a seat.” Finnick said and gestured to the two vacant seats beside him.

“Please, no. It’s too early for him.” Peeta leaned in to whine in your ear.

“We have to be polite. You’ll be okay.” You whispered back.

“Fine. But I’m not sitting next to him.”

“I’ll sit in the middle.” You assured him and took the seat right next to Finnick. Peeta watched the way you smiled at each other and realized he made the wrong move.

“How did you sleep?” You politely asked Finnick.

“Not great either so I got up early and went for a run around the garden.” Finnick told you.

“This place has a garden?”

“It does. Have you done any exploring of the facilities yet? I could give you a tour if you’d like. We can start in my room.” Finnick replied, making Peeta choke on the water he had sipped.

“She and I already looked around. We just didn’t find the garden.” Peeta cut in.

“Well the offer still stands. I could use the company.” Finnick said with a suave smile that made Peeta roll his eyes to the ceiling.

“I’ll think about it.” You answered to be polite. An awkward silence followed and you could sense that Peeta was upset. You picked a piece of bread from your plate and took a bite.

“What kind of bread is this? I’ve never seen this in 12.” You turned to ask Peeta. He stopped being grumpy and smiled at the question.

“It’s called challah. I’ve seen it in my recipe books but I never had the ingredients to make it.” He answered you.

“It’s good. It’s sweet.” You commented and took another bite.

“Here. Take mine.” Peeta said and put his bread on your plate. You smiled gratefully and moved the eggs from your plate onto his.

“I don’t like them anyway. And I know you do.” You explained.

“Thank you.” Peeta smiled at you.

“Gross.” Finnick snickered. “Get a room.”

“We will. But we need to eat first.” Peeta snapped, making you laugh in surprise.

“Good one.” You whispered to him. The rest of the meal went by without anymore comments from Finnick or Peeta.

Training began later that day. You and Peeta stayed close by each other and built up your weakest skills while keeping a close eye on the other tributes. Meanwhile, Finnick was having a gallant time showing off at the different training areas. He didn’t take anything to do with the games seriously anymore so he was just there to have fun. You and Peeta watched him hit targets with ease with his trident and bask in the applause. You then looked down at what you were doing, which was leaning how to paint your body to camouflage into the ground. Peeta was teaching you some simple painting techniques but you couldn’t help but get distracted by Finnick’s skills.

“Not for nothing, but should we consider being allies with Finnick?” You asked Peeta.

“I thought it was just gonna be me and you in there.” Peeta said without looking at you.

“Is that what you want?” You asked him.

“I want what you want.” He replied and looked into your eyes.

“I just wanted you. But if he asks us, it wouldn’t hurt to be his ally. He has been training for this his whole life. It would be better to have him on our side than hunting us.” You shrugged.

“That’s the thing. He doesn’t want me as an ally. He only wants you.” Peeta reminded you.

“Why just me? You’re stronger and can fight.”

“Because he’s in love with you.” Peeta said loud enough to draw the attention of several tributes, including Finnick. Peeta hung his head in disappointment as Finnick sauntered over to you.

“Uh oh. Talking about me, I hope.” Finnick said with a grin. “Come with me, Y/n. I want to show you how it tie a fisherman’s knot.”

“She already knows how to do that.” Peeta grumbled.

“Oh really? What about a sheep shank?” Finnick asked you.

“What’s that?” You asked.

“Follow me and I’ll show you.” Finnick offered and held out his hand. Peeta watched the way you took his hand to stand up and clenched his jaw. You started to follow Finnick until you heard a little groan from Peeta. You didn’t want to upset Peeta, but you did want to learn a new knot.

“Peeta should come too so that he can learn.” You stated.

“Peeta’s busy. Besides, I don’t think knots are really his thing. He’s more into arts and crafts, right Peeta?” Finnick asked and shot Peeta a wink. Peeta stayed silent as he glared at Finnick.

“I’ll be right back.” You told Peeta with an apologetic smile. Peeta tried to focus on his painting but could not stop looking up at you and Finnick. Finnick did the classic move of wrapping his arms around you to show you how to do something which made Peeta sick to his stomach.

“Wanna take me for a walk?” Finnick laughed as he wrapped a knot around his neck. You laughed as well and Peeta couldn’t take it anymore. That’s when he realized he didn’t have to take it. As far as everyone in the room was concerned, you and Peeta were supposedly in love. That meant he didn’t have to stand by and watch some guy flirt with his girl. Peeta marched up to you and spun you around by the waist before planting a kiss on your lips. You stumbled back in surprise before kissing him back. Finnick watched the kiss and chuckled softly, knowing exactly what Peeta was doing. You gave him a confused by pleased smile when he pulled away but he just kept his usual cheery smile on.

“Sorry. I just need to borrow my fiancé for a minute.” Peeta said to Finnick before pulling you aside.

“Go right ahead.” Finnick replied.

“What was that all about?” You whispered once you were out of earshot.

“Nothing. I just wanted to tell you that I’m gonna check out the poisonous berry catalog in case you’re looking for me.” Peeta said innocently.

“Okay. Thanks for telling me.” You said and narrowed your eyes suspiciously at him. Peeta pecked your lips again before going over to the catalog. You touched your buzzing lips before going back to Finnick.

“Well somebody’s jealous.” Finnick chuckled.

“Leave him alone. You’re antagonizing him.” You scolded playfully.

“I know. And it’s very fun.” Finnick insisted.

“Well knock it off. He’s a good guy.”

“I know he is. But I’m bored of the other tributes and you guys are fresh meat. Let me play a little, okay?”

“All right. But I think he’s playing too now.” You warned.

And that’s exactly what Peeta was doing. Now that he remembered his advantage over Finnick, he used it anytime he could. He started kissing you when entering or leaving any room and making sure it was always in Finnicks line of sight. His hands were often on your hips or arm when standing near each other and he always had a grip on your leg when sitting. Finnick would always chuckle and look away, knowing it mattered a lot more to Peeta than it did to him. Peeta’s need for your attention also increased and you found that he was always right by your side or lingering just around the corner. You didn’t mind since you were anxious about the upcoming games and having him around always calmed you. But you couldn’t help but be bothered by the way he checked to see if Finnick was watching each time he kissed or touched you.

You were talking to Finnick in the hallway one day when you felt two strong arms wrap around your shoulders. You knew it was Peeta without looking because of the amused look on Finnicks face.

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you.” Peeta said and pecked your lips.

“Hello Peeta.” Finnick said curtly.

“Hello Finnick. Were you unable to find your wardrobe? I could loan you some shirts, if you’d like.” Peeta offered when he noticed that once again, Finnicks chest was bare. You clocked the sarcasm underneath Peeta’s kind tone and turned your head to laugh.

“That’s okay. I prefer it this way. It lets me move my arms more freely.” Finnick said and flexed his arms to prove his point. Peeta saw your eyes go wide and clenched his jaw.

“You must be really strong, Finnick.” You noted as your eyes stayed glued to his arms.

“I do a lot of heavy lifting back home. Go on, feel them.” Finnick said as he stared right into Peeta’s eyes.

“Oh, uh…” You laughed nervously and gripped Finnicks bicep like he asked. You didn’t want to deny the offer and seem rude, and you seriously wanted to feel his muscles, so Peeta was gonna have to take one for the team.

“Wow.” You gasped. “I’ve never felt anything like that.”

“I bet you haven’t.” Finnick grinned and shot a smug look at Peeta. Peeta could do nothing but watch with jealousy brewing in his eyes, and that was all Finnick needed.

“Well, I should get some rest. We have another big day tomorrow. But I’ll be looking forward to when my eyes can see yours again.” Finnick said and nudged your cheek. You smiled timidly while Peeta rolled his eyes up to the ceiling.

“See you around, Peet.” Finnicks chuckled and clapped Peeta on the back. Once you were alone, Peeta let out a sigh.

“Did you really have to touch his arm?” He whined.

“I guess not. But I wanted to. We are facing death right now and I’ll probably never get another chance to feel like a normal girl my age so I’m just trying to have some fun. You should try it sometime.” You said and came off just as annoyed as you felt. Peeta was surprised your tone and gulped.

“I can’t have fun when he’s lingering around you all the time like a hawk.” He mumbled.

“Who cares what he’s doing?” You groaned.

“I care.” Peeta snapped. You raised your eyebrows at him and he immediately felt bad.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you.” Peeta apologized. “It’s just that guy. I can’t stand him. I thought he was trying to get into your head to psych you out before the games but he’s gotten into mine instead. He drives me crazy.”

“Oh, I get it. So that’s why you’ve been kissing me so much lately? You wanted to get back at Finnick?” You asked with a sad smile.

“I just wanted to remind him that you and I are a team. Not that he seems to care.” Peeta sighed.

“I care.” You said and put your hand on his shoulder. Peeta put his hand over yours and looked into your eyes apologetically.

“But I also don’t like you using me to get ahead in your little competition with Finnick. I’m not a trophy, you know. I’m a person.” You reminded him.

“You’re absolutely right. I’m sorry. I should’ve have rubbed our relationship in his face like that. Especially not without asking you first.”

“Thank you for apologizing. And it’s not that I didn’t like all the kissing. I just didn’t like that you were only doing it to bother Finnick.”

“I mean, that’s not the only reason I was kissing you. I happen to like kissing you. Annoying Finnick was just a pleasant side effect.” Peeta admitted as a blush covered his cheeks. You smiled at him admitting it and took a step closer to him.

“Well then it’s a good thing we’re on the same page, then.” You said as you toyed with the buttons on his shirt.

“We are?”

“We are. But no more fighting with Finnick. We really need him as an ally so you’ll have to learn to be civil.”

“If he can learn to keep his hands to himself then I can learn to be civil.” Peeta mumbled.

“Peeta.” You said warningly.

“Fine. Yes. You’re right. I can be civil.” Peeta said begrudgingly. You were pleased with his answer and kissed his cheek to thank him for listening. A rosy blush covered Peeta’s face and he smiled fondly at you.

“But I guess I can’t really blame him. Because I’ve had a hard time keeping my hands to myself around you too.” He said and took your chin between his fingers the way Finnick often did.

“That,” you smiled, “I’m okay with.”

Tag list

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[drabblesandsnippets]

Sunshine - Part 2

Hot Bucky Summer 2024 - Week 6

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky x Plus-size female character (nickname is Sunshine)

Prompt: “I won’t be able to stop myself.” | [Sex Pollen | Gone Feral | Fuck or Die] @buckybarnesevents

Summary: (5k) Series Masterlist After a night out with Bucky’s friends, things will never be the same.

Warnings: 18+ Only. Slow burn. Grumpy/Sunshine trope. Happy Bucky (is that a warning?) - he's a photographer in this AU. Mention of insecurities and anxiety (she's a bit of a mess, okay?). Use of weed. Use of alcohol. Questionable drunk thoughts & decisions. Masturbation.

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

Bucky can’t stop.

Whether he’s awake or asleep, she’s there, occupying his thoughts. 

When he’s out with his friends, he imagines her there, getting to see her laugh and have a good time.

When he’s working, he thinks about what it’d be like to take her picture. To pose her. To touch her. To boost her confidence.

And when he’s asleep, he dreams of her, waking up harder than he’s ever been in his entire life.

It won’t stop, no matter what he does.

It’s even gotten to the point where Bucky’s considered telling her to start looking for another roommate, to offer to help her find someone. But, she’ll ask why, and he can’t lie to her. 

He’d have to tell her that he can’t stop thinking about her. That he can’t stop fantasizing about her. That he can’t stop picturing himself sneaking into the bathroom late at night to listen through the thin wall, hoping to catch the sounds she makes when she touches herself.

His confession would not only make her uncomfortable, but she’d never forgive him, and rightfully so. He’d just be another person in her life that ended up hurting her. So he selfishly does nothing, other than continue to allow himself to indulge in the fantasies, keeping it strictly to when she’s not home, or after she’s already gone to her room.

When they are together, he forces himself to keep his thoughts strictly PG-13, never risking giving her a reason to think he wants more than a friendship. Bucky doesn’t know as much about her as he’d like, but her avoidance of physical touch and vague answers about past relationships gives him no reason to think she’d even be interested. It’s just not worth the risk.

All he can hope is that eventually his feelings will fade, and until then he’ll continue on as normal. Inviting her out, hoping she says yes, while secretly starting to feel grateful that he’s been able to keep the two parts of his life separate. It’s been easier that way.

And then Steve opens his big fucking mouth. 

He wasn’t even supposed to be here for at least another hour, but here he stands in their kitchen, drinking one of Bucky’s beers, laughing at something Sunshine’s saying. Trying to get her to change her mind after Bucky extended the invitation.

Of all the times for his friend to get involved, it has to be on the night they’re heading to a bar to check out some live music. A crowd of noisy drunk people is so far out of her comfort zone that Bucky can't help but jump to her rescue, telling her, “It’s okay. Maybe another night.”

For some reason that Bucky hasn't figured out yet, Steve won’t let it go, interjecting before Sunshine can respond. “It won’t be too crazy, I promise.” With a friendly smile and a lift of his beer, he adds, “And if it ends up not being your thing, any one of us will be happy to bring you home.” 

It’s ridiculous to think that Steve is flirting with her, but the thought still crosses Bucky’s mind and it has his irritation growing, the sneaking feeling of jealousy threatening to build inside him. Resisting the urge to snap at his friend to be quiet, he keeps his attention on Sunshine, telling her, “You’re more than welcome to join us, but please don’t feel obligated because of this one.”

Her eyes bounce between the two men as she shifts uncomfortably and her cheeks flush, but she’s quick to shake her head. “It sounds like it could be fun… I’m just… um.” The anxiety building in her is palpable, causing Bucky’s concern to grow and his irritation at Steve to reach new levels. This is all his fault. Just as he opens his mouth to assure her, again, that there would be no hard feelings, she mumbles, “I’m not sure what to wear.”

The shy, awkward words cause Bucky’s chest to tighten and if he wasn’t worried about making this whole thing worse, he’d tell her exactly what he’s thinking. That it doesn’t matter what she wears because she always looks good. She could go dressed exactly as she is now - sweatpants and a worn t-shirt - and she’d still have his attention the whole night.

And then Steve beats him to it, the smile on his face conveying nothing but friendliness, but the words still get under Bucky’s skin. “You’ll look good no matter what you wear.” 

Bucky wants to be the cause of the blush that spreads across Sunshine’s skin. He wants to be the reason she rolls her eyes and laughs at the compliment. And if it were him saying it, he’d make sure she believed it too. He wouldn’t let her leave this kitchen without knowing, without a doubt, that she’s always beautiful.

That's not an option though. He has to watch her dismissively shake her head as she takes her leave, and the moment she’s out of earshot, the tension in Bucky’s shoulders grows. With a hard glare aimed at his best friend, Bucky asks, “What the fuck was that about?” There’s not much that can rattle him these days, but if there’s anyone that knows how to push his buttons, it’s Steve. 

Steve continues with the innocent act for a beat longer, making a show of taking a long, slow sip from his beer before he finally asks, “What? I can’t be nice to your roommate?” He’s immune to the subtle warning twitch of Bucky’s jaw, having spent years perfecting just how far he can take things without pissing Bucky off too much. 

When it comes to Sunshine though, his fuse is much shorter, and whatever game Steve’s playing, Bucky needs it to end now.

“Enough.” Bucky pushes himself off the counter he’s been leaning on, forcing himself to head towards the fridge instead of getting in Steve’s face. “Leave her alone.” Even as he says it, Bucky knows this isn’t really about her. His best friend never does anything just to piss him off. There’s always a reason behind his provoking, usually one Bucky doesn’t like.

“She said she wanted to come. You want her to come. So, what’s the issue?” And there it is. Steve’s agenda. Involving himself in things that don’t concern him. Trying to goad Bucky into a conversation that he doesn’t want to have. One that he’s been skirting around for weeks.

Refusing to take the bait, Bucky rolls his eyes and ducks his head into the fridge to grab a beer. He’s tired of his friends using the excuse that they’re ‘looking out for him’ when they try to insert themselves into his love life (or lack thereof). He’s not putting up with it tonight.

“You had your fun,” Bucky tells him, keeping his tone even as he twists the cap off the cold bottle in his hand, making it clear he’s reached his limit. “You got your wish. No more games. Leave it alone.”

The only goal is to make sure Sunshine has a good time tonight. 

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

She doesn’t know what she’s doing. 

One minute she’s making a ‘joke’ about celebrating her recent promotion with a night filled with weed, games, and social media, and the next she’s agreeing to go out to a bar with them. 

She rarely goes out, and when she does it’s not to a crowded bar. It’s been a long time since she's even felt the desire, a brief stint in her early 20s spent anywhere but home having convinced her it wasn’t for her. A part of her life she barely remembers and one she definitely doesn’t want to revisit. 

Shaking the flash of memories from her head, she lifts her hand to wipe the light sweat covering her upper lip and keeps digging through her closet, searching for whatever will feel the most comfortable. Pajamas. At home. Alone. (Or maybe just with Bucky). 

She rolls her eyes at the thought and narrows her selections down to a few shirts, a couple of which she hasn’t worn in months, and the one pair of jeans that doesn’t dig into her stomach every time she sits down. Despite Steve’s friendly encouragement, she’s nervous, studying her reflection in the mirror as she tries on each shirt, growing sweatier with each change. 

None of them feel right. They’re either too tight, too big, or show off too much cleavage. This is her first time hanging out with Bucky’s friends and she doesn’t want to choose the wrong thing. She wants to blend in, draw the least amount of attention.

Several outfit changes later, she’s in a simple v-neck t-shirt, brushing her hair out of her reddened face, pulling the damp strands into a quick bun. The desire to wear her hair down was quickly overruled by her desire to not overheat and look like a mess tonight. 

It takes her a few minutes of sitting on her bed to cool off, trying her best not to look like she just ran a marathon, but as nervous and anxious as she is about tonight, she’s also excited. This has been a long time coming, and the edible she took a little while ago should help before they even get to the bar.

At least she’s stopped having inappropriate thoughts about Bucky. Well, for the most part anyway. She’ll still occasionally think about accidentally overhearing him in the shower, and she tries not to think about the really intense dream she had about him not that long ago, but it’s not everyday anymore so it’s easy to pretend it doesn’t exist.

And, hopefully, getting to see Bucky in his element tonight will put all this to rest. With any luck, she’ll get to watch him flirt with random women and finally learn what his type is. She assumes it’s the complete opposite of her. Someone bubbly and positive. Someone perky. Thin. Pretty. 

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

Sunshine’s not wearing anything Bucky hasn’t seen her in before, but he swears there’s something different. Maybe it’s the passing streetlights illuminating her beauty, or the smile that’s been on her face since they got in their shared ride, or maybe it’s the light breeze coming in through the cracked car window, the wind blowing wisps of hair along her temples. 

Whatever it is, he’s having a hard time keeping his eyes off her, and an even harder time not letting his thoughts stray. The only saving grace is that Steve’s keeping her preoccupied from the front passenger seat, giving her all the gossip about their friends. How they all met. What everyone does for a living. The kind of shit they get up to when they hang out. 

“One of these days, ya gotta get Buck to tell you about the time he convinced us to break into a private club to go swimming.” 

Bucky doesn’t miss the way Sunshine’s eyes widen and her mouth opens in surprise, but he holds up his finger to correct Steve first. “Technically, it was ‘trespassing’ since I already had the key, and we wouldn’t have gotten caught if you hadn’t tripped the alarm on the way out. I told you exactly-.”

Steve is the first to interrupt him with a bark of a laugh, but before his best friend can start listing the useless defenses he has about that night, Sunshine speaks up, drawing both of their attention. “I’m sorry. You wanted to break into a private club?” 

Bucky’s reminder of ‘trespass’ earns him a glare that he takes in stride, laughing it off. “I worked there. I was allowed to use the pool. Whether or not I was allowed to bring guests was a gray area.”

Steve jumps in to finish, telling her, “It was not a gray area. We almost got arrested.” 

“We did not,” Bucky laughs, rolling his eyes at his best friend before turning his attention back to the woman that’s been driving him crazy. The look of slight amusement and bewilderment she’s giving has him clenching his hands in his lap, rubbing them along his jeans, wanting nothing more than to reach out and caress her cheek. To tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Not letting a second of silence fill the air, he explains, “There was no risk of getting arrested. I did get fired though.”

The nonchalant shrug Bucky gives her only adds to her state of confusion, and he can’t help but think how cute she looks, with her slightly furrowed brow and the crinkle along the bridge of her nose. Hiding the grin growing on his face, he glances out the window, taking note of how close they are to their destination.

Probably thinking he’s doing him a favor, Steve’s more than happy to keep the conversation going, telling Sunshine, “Don’t let his sunny disposition fool you.” The subtle warning look that Bucky shoots him, a silent reminder of their earlier conversation, has Steve quickly adding, “He’s the greatest guy I’ve ever known, don’t get me wrong, but he’s about as innocent as -.” 

“Nope,” Bucky interrupts him with a loud laugh, reaching forward to grab Steve’s shoulder, refusing to let him finish that thought. Steve laughs with him, but keeps his promise, letting the subject drop, turning back around in his seat for the last remaining seconds of their trip, much to the happiness of their driver.

This is the first time Sunshine’s learning there’s more to him than meets the eye, and as she grows quiet, Bucky can only imagine what she’s thinking. Until now, she’s been limited to witnessing the sweet, happy, enthusiastic side of him, leaving her with the assumption that he’s a Boy Scout - a goody two-shoes. 

He’s far from it, and as much apprehension as he has about how she'll react to getting know this side of him, there's also a jolt of excitement that he can't ignore. Maybe this will make their friendship even better.

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

This is what she wanted. To get to know Bucky better, to see what he’s like out in the world, with his friends, with other people. But, she feels caught off guard. Like, none of her conversations with Bucky, or the interactions she’s witnessed between him and his friends prepared her for this.

The whole time that he’s been trying to get her to come out of her shell, he’s been hiding parts of himself. He’s been careful with her, never crossing a line, probably choosing his words carefully. There’s no doubt that Bucky’s been doing it for her benefit, but now it all feels like a lie. Like he hasn’t been able to be himself with her, and it hurts her feelings.

Whatever foolish expectations she had for the evening have flown out the window, and she’s more than grateful when the car pulls to a stop, the three of them spilling out onto the busy sidewalk. Fighting the urge to get right back in the car to take herself home, she follows the men into the bar, doing her best to avoid Bucky’s gaze.

He’s probably worried about her. Probably thinking she’s in over her head, that she’s realizing she made a mistake coming tonight. He’s probably thinking I told you so. That she’s not cut out for this - the bar, his friends, him. 

The racing thoughts leave her just as quickly as they come, Steve getting her attention as he takes the lead to wind them through the crowd, Bucky in step right next to her. “I’m glad you decided to come tonight.” When all she manages is a slightly-forced smile that doesn’t quite meet her eyes, Steve adds, “After everything Bucky’s told us about you, we’ve been looking forward to this.”

She steals a quick glance at Bucky, not at all surprised to find him already looking at her. He’s been watching her since she agreed to come tonight, like it’s his job to make sure she doesn’t get overwhelmed, like he’s expecting her to have a nervous breakdown at any moment. The smile he gives her only seems to prove her point, and it doesn’t help when all he innocently asks is, “What? You don’t talk to me about your friends?”

Of course she does, but it does nothing to quiet her concerns about what he’s told his friends about her. Are they expecting her to be an anxious mess? That she’s going to suddenly bolt in the middle of a conversation? What exactly-. She’s interrupted by Steve again, who’s looking at his phone.

“Buck, Nat found a table, and Yelena already disappeared.” He says it with a laugh, as if it’s a normal occurrence, not waiting for a response from Bucky before he says, “Why don’t you go help her keep our spot. We’ll get the drinks.” 

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Bucky open his mouth, and they all know what’s about to come out. The offer to switch places, have Steve go sit at the table while she and Bucky get the drinks. And for a split second, she wants him to. It would be so much easier.

But, how is she supposed to prove that she can handle this? That she’s perfectly capable of having a good time if she can’t even be alone with Bucky’s best friend for a few minutes? Both her and Steve answer at the same time - Steve telling him that they can manage a few drink orders, while she says it’s a good idea.

Obviously seeing that this isn’t a fight he’s going to win, and not wanting to risk losing their table, Bucky takes his leave, but not without giving them both one last look. At some point tonight, she and Bucky are going to have to hash this out, but not until she’s had a few drinks.

Keeping close to Steve, she follows him the rest of the way to the bar, not missing how he occasionally glances back to make sure she’s still there. She might feel like she doesn’t know Bucky as well as she thought, but there’s not a doubt in her mind that she’s safe with his friends. She has no reason to be worried about being alone with any one of them.

Well, other than for the fact that she has no idea what Bucky’s told them, or how they're going to treat her tonight. Maybe that’s why Steve wanted a minute alone with her. To tell her all the ways they’re going to help her, to make sure she doesn’t freak out or get overwhelmed. It wouldn’t be the first time a stranger’s given her unsolicited advice.

As if reading her mind, Steve sets her at ease, casually telling her, “He’s had nothing but great things to say about you.” With a raise of his arm, he gets the attention of the bartender to place their orders before turning his gaze back to her, the smile never leaving his face. His hand is still raised between them and he starts ticking things off on his fingers, recounting, “You’re the best roommate. You have great taste in music. And books. And movies.” With four of his digits raised, he lifts his thumb to add, “You’re hilarious. Should I keep going?”

She quickly shakes her head, a laugh bubbling out of her as her skin grows warm. These are all things Bucky’s told her, it’s just strange to hear them from his best friend, who she barely knows. With the effects of the edible having started to kick in a couple minutes ago, she feels comfortable enough to joke, “Is this the part where I’m supposed to list all the great things about Bucky?”

“God no,” Steve immediately tells her with a playful roll of his eyes and a grin that she’s sure has gotten him out of many a things in life. “I have to hear how great that man is all the time. I’d rather drink.” There’s no malice in his tone, no hint of resentment or frustration - this is just their relationship. They love each other and they give each other shit. Like brothers. Like family.

Ignoring the ache in her chest at the thought of family, she lets Steve talk her into doing a couple of the shots lined up on the bar for them. Not that it takes much convincing. There were never any plans to get through tonight even remotely sober.

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

They all know. All of Bucky’s friends know that he has feelings for her, but they think it’s just a crush, like he’s in fucking high school. They have no idea that he can’t stop thinking about her, that it’s bordering on obsession. Not even Steve knows the extent of it. 

And tonight, they’re all too drunk to notice he’s been watching her, not out of concern for her mental well-being, but because she’s mesmerizing. Because Sunshine’s doing exactly what he’s been dreaming about for weeks - laughing and dancing and looking like she belongs right here. With his friends. With him.

The alcohol flowing through him makes it difficult to focus, and before he realizes it, Sunshine catches him in the act. Her attention had just been bouncing between joking with Nat and Sam, and watching the band currently playing, the music keeping most of the patrons on their feet. And now she’s staring right at him, as if she can read his mind. 

For a moment, he actually believes it, her brow slightly furrowing as she makes her way around the side of the table, reaching out to steady herself along the back of a chair. 

He has to fight the urge to help her, keeping his hands around his half-empty glass, the condensation wetting his fingers. After all the months of living together, all the conversations and late night Netflix marathons, he’s never touched her and now it’s all he can think about. It's the only thing on his mind, and she must be able to tell, because the look she’s giving him is telling him that he definitely fucked up. 

Just as he opens his mouth to apologize, she asks, “Can we go outside?” 

The only response he can muster is a quick nod of his head, and he silently follows her, his thoughts racing with what to tell her. How to explain himself. How to assure her that he’d never cross any lines. 

By the time they’re outside, the light breeze cooling their warm skin, he still doesn’t know where to start. He doesn’t know how to fix this. All he can do is watch her, almost losing focus at her flushed skin and glassy eyes. Even drunk and stoned, she’s the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

“Are we friends?” The question blindsides him. Makes him stand there, stunned, confused, and silent. Trying to work out why she’s asking that, of all the things she could be asking right now. With a slight slur to her words, she continues, telling him, “I like dirty jokes and inappropriate humor. I like teasing my friends and giving them shit about stupid stuff. I’m not great at rule-breaking, but I wouldn’t lecture you about it.”

The hurt in her eyes betray the joking tone she’s keeping, clearly trying to make light of a situation that’s been bothering her all night - since she learned that he’s not the wholesome, straight-laced guy she assumed him to be. 

So he did fuck up, just not in the way he thought. 

“I never thought you would lecture me,” he promises her, keeping the shaking of his head to a minimum, his eyes quickly losing focus. He blinks the blurriness away and gives her a warm smile, shoving his hands in his pockets to resist the urge to comfort her with his touch. “I just never wanted to put you in a situation where you were uncomfortable, Sunshine. Especially in your own home.”

The quick peak of her tongue wetting her lips has his cock stirring in his jeans, and it takes all his self control not to keep his gaze on her mouth. To ignore the flash of need to kiss her, to feel her lips on his, to taste her. He’s so busy trying to pretend he’s listening to her that he just barely catches what she's saying. 

“I'm more uncomfortable with your early morning singing and never-ending enthusiasm than I’d ever be with a dirty joke.”

Her response catches him off guard, and all he can do is laugh. All this time, he's been working so hard to reign in the parts of himself that might bother her, or make things awkward, and it was the complete opposite of what he should have been doing.

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

She likes making him laugh. The crinkle of his eyes. The flash of his teeth. The slight shake of his head that has him lifting his hand to run it through his hair. She wants to feel it, to run her fingers through the soft strands. It’s the perfect length to grab hold of while-.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, laughter still pouring out of him. For the briefest of moments, she thinks she said it outloud, but quickly realizes what he means. 

After tonight, things will be different between them, like they’ve given each other permission to really be themselves. And as they return to the rest of the group, she can’t stop thinking what it’s going to be like from now on. The kind of jokes he’ll make. The off-hand comments she won’t keep holding back. The teasing they’ll get up to. 

All the inappropriate thoughts she’s been ignoring return ten-fold and she wonders if he’s a tease in bed. If he likes to drive his partner crazy. If he likes to be in control.

By the time the night is over, and they’re sharing a ride back home, she can’t stop stealing glances at him. Her eyes drifting to his mouth, wondering how he kisses. His five-o’clock shadow and what it would feel like between her thighs. His strong hands on her body.

That’s how she ends up in her bedroom, after a quick trip to the bathroom and a brief goodnight to Bucky - wishing like hell they had hugged, wanting the intoxicating smell of him to linger on her clothes and skin - she’s under her covers, naked and writhing at the touch of her own hand, her fingers teasing her nipples, the hand between her thighs ghosting over her swollen clit.

It’s easy to convince herself that because she has no idea what he’s really like in bed, this doesn’t count. This is just a fantasy that could be about anyone. Bucky’s just filling that role. He’s just a face for her to picture while she buries her fingers inside her dripping pussy, the palm of her hand pressed hard against her clit.

It gets harder to pretend as the pleasure builds and the fantasy becomes more intense, picturing him between her spread thighs, fucking her hard and fast, his growl of dirty words filling her head. And soon, she’s fantasizing about him hearing her - how he’d burst in and join her, bury his head between her thighs and fuck her with his tongue.

She’s not drunk enough to allow herself more than a couple seconds of unabashed noises, as if she’s really trying to tempt him, before she’s reigning it back. It’d never happen, but at least she has tonight. At least, for right now, she can pretend it’s him making her come, her hand quickly coming up to cover her mouth so she doesn’t scream his name.

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

He shouldn’t be doing this. Bucky knows he shouldn’t be doing this, but he can’t stop himself. He blames it on the alcohol skewing his sense of integrity, but it’s a lie. He knows what he’s doing is wrong, and yet he stands here, barely breathing, his ear pressed to the thin wall that separates the bathroom from her bedroom.

Refusing to give in to the temptation to touch himself, he keeps his sweaty hands on the wall, his fingers tensing and flexing against the hard surface. He’s not sure he’ll be able to forgive himself for eavesdropping like this, but touching himself at the same time would be a step too far. The guilt would eat away at him until he was forced to move out without warning.

Bucky doesn’t know how long he stands there, his heart racing and his eyes closed, all his focus trained on what’s happening in her bedroom, until he finally starts to hear her. The barely audible gasps, the muffled moans, the occasional cut-off cry that has his cock straining against his jeans. 

It’s better than anything he could’ve imagined and as wrong as this is, he can’t stop. Visions of what she’s doing plays through his mind, the possibilities of how she touches herself, what she’s fantasizing about, what’s causing the incredible noises spilling out of her.

And then the obvious signs of her getting closer suddenly has him sobering up. She’s drunk. Neither of them are in the right state of mind, and no matter how much he wants to stay right here to listen to her come, he hasn’t earned that right. He’ll never earn that right.

It still doesn’t stop him from ending the night the same way he’s ended every night for the past several weeks. This time, though, as he slowly strokes his cock, he doesn’t have to imagine what she sounds like. It’s all right there in his head, playing on a loop, working him quickly towards an intense orgasm, the sound of her name muffled as he covers his mouth with the palm of his hand.

There’s no doubt that he’ll regret this tomorrow, but as his cock stays hard in his grip, he can’t seem to care. It feels too good to stop, and it’s not long before he’s stroking himself again, his body aching for her touch. He’ll never have it, but that doesn’t mean he can’t live in this fantasy for just a few moments.

And if he’s lucky, he’ll forget all about this by the time morning comes.

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

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[iiseult]

Oooh open requests! May I have King Baldwin with a wife reader who sweetly helps him treat his wounds regardless of how he tells her not to come into direct contact with his skin? Please, do it nice and fluffy, if it's not too much trouble! Thank you!

Wedding Night: Baldwin IV x reader

CWs → fluff, probable historical inaccuracies, she/her pronouns, leprosy, christianity and mentions of god, reader and baldwin just got married!

Note: This is the first request I've ever responded to! Thank you so much for sending it in, I really hope you enjoy! <3 Also this was supposed to be a drabble but I got carried away

Wordcount: 2k

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Baldwin was laying on his stomach with his bandaged arms and legs stretched out across the large mattress, and his face nuzzled into a plush pillow. The day had been strenuous for him, requiring much more standing than he was accustomed to, and his body ached terribly. Though originally just on his hands and face, the disease had recently spread up past his wrist and onto a small patch of his back, causing an uncomfortable burning sensation every time his clothing brushed against it. He was waiting for his physician to arrive and apply his nightly soothing salve, which usually helped to relieve some of the discomfort that resulted from the intense dryness of his skin. But when the door opened, instead of his physician, it was you. 

Hastily, he sat up, looking around to find something to cover himself with. Besides the bandages wrapped around his ribcage, arms, and the middle of his face, the only thing he had on was a pair of white linen shorts. You covered your mouth and giggled as he scrambled to grab his robe from the nearby chair it was draped over.

“My lord, that really won’t be necessary. I’m only going to take it right back off once you put it on,” you said playfully, closing the door behind you and sauntering towards him. You were carrying a small basket in your left hand. He furrowed his brow and instinctually clutched the fabric to his chest, hoping it covered most of his exposed skin. A wave of heat rushed to his head, and he suddenly felt a bit dizzy.  

“Lady Y/N– I mean, Your Highness, what are you doing here?” he asked, his voice betraying his mild panic as his eyes followed you across the bedroom. You had changed out of your wedding gown in favor of a tightly fitting dress of a deep emerald green and a low neckline– typical attire for a bride on her wedding night. Heat rose to his cheeks as he admired his new queen’s attractive figure, on display just for him. He really hadn’t been expecting this. You had to know that, given his condition, consummating the marriage would be more trouble than it was worth, and attempting to sire an heir with him would be a completely fruitless endeavor. Why, then, were you standing before him, looking like the very picture of grace and beauty? You smiled gently at him, setting down the basket and taking a seat on the edge of the bed. 

“Let me help you. Please, lie back down so I can take those bandages off,” you murmured, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. You waited a moment, but he only gawked, eyes still shamelessly concentrating on your choice of wardrobe. You sighed and placed a hand over his bandaged one, looking deeply into his eyes. 

“I promise I’ll be gentle.” 

He hummed sadly, shaking his head no, knowing he could not give you what you wanted. 

“I believe that you would, but I cannot allow it. If you were to come into contact with my bare skin…” he trailed off. You bit your lip. You knew he wouldn’t agree to it. 

He noticed your disappointment, and his eyes softened a little. 

“Look at you, your skin is so pure…if anything were to happen to it on my account, I could never forgive myself. Not only because of the pain it would inflict upon you, but also for my own selfish reasons.” He spoke slowly, letting his words sink in. 

“My wife, you are so beautiful, and so smart. You have so much to give, and you are everything I am not. If you were to put yourself at risk of becoming like me, you would be condemning yourself to a short, bitter life of wasted potential. Though I may not be long for this world, I want to spend the remainder of my days admiring you and all that you bring. Please do not forsake the gifts God has given you for fleeting desires of the flesh,” he begged. His blue eyes were so wide, pleading, swimming with genuine emotion, but it wasn’t enough to break you. You knew what you wanted.

“Baldwin,” you said, addressing him directly for the first time, “Just this once, please. Let me do this for you.” 

You tugged lightly at the fabric bunched up in his grasp. He resigned, allowing you to pull it away and discard it at the foot of the bed, leaving his mostly bare chest exposed to your intimate gaze. No woman had ever seen this much of him before. He watched as your eyes traced his body, beginning at his delicate neck and protruding collar bones, then down to the smooth expanse of creamy skin covering his chest, and finally to his well-defined middle. Those parts of him had yet to be contaminated by his affliction. You had yet to ever come into contact with his bare skin, but the way you were studying him, he could almost feel the sweet sensation of your fingertips ghosting over his body. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry if you had hopes of…enjoying a true wedding night with me, but I must be honest with you, even if it does cause me great pain and regret-” 

You hushed him quietly, clasping his hand in yours a little tighter. 

“No, my love, you don’t have to explain to me. I understand. That is not what I came for. I simply wanted to take care of my husband.” You smiled, the corners of your eyes crinkling as you gazed down at him lovingly. He let out a breath and untensed his shoulders, relieved that he wasn’t letting you down after all. The sight of you smiling down at him with all the love in the world melted his heart, and his resolve broke. 

“Alright. But please promise me you will cleanse yourself thoroughly afterwards. We must do everything we can to prevent the spread,” he whispered, dropping his hand to allow you to have your way with him. 

Slowly, carefully, you reached for him, stretching your fingertips out and finally grazing them against the middle of his chest. He inhaled sharply, watching in awe. Your touch was feather-light, but it sent a spark of heat straight to his heart. His skin tingled. Gently, you applied a bit of pressure, encouraging him to lay back. He stared into your eyes and refused to look anywhere else as he readjusted his position, locks of blond hair shifting away from his brow as he reclined.

“That’s it, just like that. Perfect. Now, just relax, I brought some oils and salves for you. I’m going to take this bandage off now, okay?” You said, reaching for his wrapped hand. He nodded, and you slowly began unwinding the linens, peeling them away to reveal the most decayed part of his body; his right hand. Any skin left intact on it was shaded by a grayish hue, and the rest was just angry, red, open sores. You fought the urge to wince, not because it disgusted you, because it didn’t, but because you empathized with Baldwin, feeling the pain he must have felt in that moment. The bandages you removed were dotted with blood and other secretions from the angry wounds. 

You continued unraveling, all the way up his arm, and its condition gradually improved the further up you got. Then you moved to the other arm, repeating the same process. Soon, it was time to attend to the linens coiled around his torso, protecting the rash on his back. 

“Can you sit up for me, please?” 

He wordlessly obeyed, watching you work through his curtain of fine, golden hair. You scooted over until you were fully seated on the bed, face to face with him. He was suddenly glad for the bandage covering most of his cheeks and nose, so you didn’t detect the blush rapidly spreading across them. 

You reached around with your left arm and placed your cool palm against his shoulder blade to steady him as you pulled away the bandages. He sat as still as possible, not sure what to do with himself. His heart was about to beat out of his chest. Your hand was so soft, so slow…it was lulling him into a trance. He sighed deeply, letting the air roll all the way through his lungs. You deftly unweaved the bandage with your delicate fingers, working swiftly to avoid any discomfort that the pulling might cause him. Soon, all that remained was his face. 

Wordlessly, you slid a hand up the back of his neck and cradled his head in your palm, threading your fingers through his curls. He let his head fall back, confident that you would support him, and closed his eyes. A quiet rumble emanated from the back of his throat when he felt your fingertips brush his forehead. Then, you peeled off the last bandage, finally exposing the sensitive skin of his face to the cool evening air. 

Yes, his complexion was blemished and inflamed, as you expected. His nose was red and dry, some of the skin flaking off completely. His lips were in much the same condition. A smattering of pink blotches covered his handsome cheeks. But to you, nobody had ever looked closer to perfect. You grinned and cupped his face between your hands, gently circling your thumb over his cheek. His pretty blue eyes crinkled up at the corners as he smiled back, letting out a short laugh he never meant to let out. 

“You are such a beautiful boy, Baldwin. I love seeing your smile so much,” you said, tracing his bottom lip. That smile only grew as he closed his eyes in bliss. Your warmth was almost too much for him to handle. 

“I’m going to apply the salve now, okay?” you asked, gently laying his head down on his pillow and reaching for a bottle from your basket. 

“Mhmm,” he hummed contentedly. The smell of lavender and chamomile permeated the air as you scooped up a large blob of the salve and gently smeared it over his cheekbones. He sighed in relief as soon as it touched his parched skin, his pink lips parting. Soon, his face had absorbed most of the moisture, making him glisten in the candlelight like he was made of porcelain, and you moved onto his back, having him turn over. You ran your hands over the plains of his shoulder blades, massaging the tissue to help relieve any aches that may have built up. He groaned into the pillow in satisfaction. You smiled, continuing your ministrations. 

Needless to say, Baldwin had never experienced anything remotely similar to this before. The way you handled him and didn’t shy away from coming into direct contact with the most afflicted parts of his body made his stomach do flips. Maybe he could get used to this. 

‘I think I’m all done, my king. You can turn back over,” you said softly, putting the cork back in your bottle and stowing it away in the basket. Baldwin stretched leisurely and rolled over, hair partially obscuring his half-lidded eyes and crooked smile. He suddenly looked so young; only eighteen years old and he had already led an army. 

“Thank you, love,” he murmured, reaching out to grab your hand, bravely intertwining your fingers. He figured the damage had already been done, and there was no harm in a few more precious seconds of warmth. So he swiftly lifted your hand and pressed it to his delicate lips, almost burning your skin with the lingering passion in his touch. 

Now it was your turn to blush. 

[akiranzee]

muzan x gn!reader who is literally like the very epitome of elegance. like so refined, elegant, polite, respectful and all that! no vulgar language, fancy way of speaking.. like just elegance impersonated.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ MUZAN WITH ELEGANT S/O!!

───────────── ♡ ─────────────

✧ it annoys him and amuses him all at the same time.

✧ why? because there will always be one prick in the world who’d be so opposed to you, saying you’re weird and stuff, and your response would just smile and say “we’re unique individuals after all”. ✧ so yeah, he hates how you’d smile about it and likes when you piss the person off more, acting all chill like that. ✧ other than that, he also doesn’t like it when you answer him briefly, like, when he suggested you’d eat at this restaurant and that, you’d simply nod and smile, in which he hated because he wants to hear your own thoughts, your own words, your own voice. ✧ it also makes him wonder how you — not even of old age yet, could speak so knowledgeable, and act so mature. ✧ more or less, people your age would still be fooling around, and say nonsense things. but you — muzan swears, you’re just so different even with all of them combined. ✧ instead of saying, “can you pass the sauce to me?” with a sweet voice, instead you’d say, “would you mind passing the sauce to me?” with a refined voice, and of course, with your signature smile. ✧ and if you’re talking to someone, and you didn’t catch a word they said, instead of just saying, “what?” you say, “i’m sorry, may you repeat it one more time?” ✧ and if you accidentally bump into someone, instead of saying a casual “oh! i’m sorry” you instead say; “oh! i apologize. please forgive me.” with stopping in your tracks and facing them with an apologetic and concerned look in your face. ✧ others won’t even bother to wipe their stained lips with sauce or whatever, even asking their significant others to wipe it off for them, but you — you’d always bring a tissue or a handkerchief everywhere you go, and wiping the stain off your soft lips, making muzan wish you’d just let him wipe it off at least once. ✧ but sometimes, he also likes breaking you off your elegant state, loving the look of your nose scrunched up when you see or smell blood. it just disgusts you so much. ✧ aside from all that, you also have an impolite side of you, which is when there’s a thief, you’d simply raise your leg up and trip them, having the others chasing them catch them. ✧ someone wants to harrass/take advantage of you? no worries, you’d “accidentally” push them away so hard, that they stumble down, as you mutter a soft, sarcastic “sorry” and walk away as if nothing happened. ✧ muzan sometimes wonders just how much patience you have to simply smile there while a person is literally trash-talking you, in which he, by the way, politely tells to fuck off. ✧ sometimes, muzan wishes that you’d just get out of your elegant state and cling to him sometimes. ✧ and lastly, you’re a very independent woman, that sometimes, when you both hang out together, he’d just feel really useless, and you’d be the first and last person to ever make him feel that way.

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a/n: i’m not elegant myself so uhh🤐.

© akiranzee || do not steal, plagiarize, or repost my works without my permission.

[cameronsprincess]

— summary: Rafe Cameron. Your toxic ex boyfriend who can’t seem to let you go. Even your best attempt at fighting him off, telling him no, he comes back. He won’t let you go.

— CW: 18+ only! toxic!ex bf!rafe, dark!rafe, violence, kidnapping, strong language, cocaine use, fingering, choking, marking, unprotected sex, breeding kink.

— a/n: this is a work of fiction. i do not condone anything written. this will all be in rafe’s pov. enjoy🖤

likes, comments and reblogs aren’t expected but are very appreciated <3

❥ toxic — r.c

I always knew something was wrong with me. It started when my mom died. My mind just went… Dark.

My life had started taking a really dark turn. And for a while, I could control my dark tendencies, I could control the darkness that ate away at my mind. But, the older I got, the harder it became to control that darkness inside me.

For as long as I could remember, my dad always hated me. He fucking hated me, and there was nothing I could do to change that. He only cared about Sarah, my younger sister. From the moment she was born, all of his love and attention went to her. Like she was something fucking special, like she hung the fucking moon. I was left to care for myself, pick myself back up when I fell. My dad still financially supported me, — even though he wished he didn’t have too — so at least I still had that going for me.

But he didn’t love me. No, he wished I had been a stain on the bedsheets, wished I had been wiped away with a fucking warm washcloth after the deed was done. But that wasn’t the case, obviously. I was born. And I was here. And he fucking hated that.

I stopped believing in love at a very young age. Fucked up, right? What kid doesn’t believe in love? What kid doesn’t believe that someone is capable of loving him? If you didn’t already know the answer to that, it’s me. At least, it was me.

The idea of loving someone and being loved crept back into my life when I was eighteen. When she came into my life. I loved her the best I knew how, which, wasn’t really saying anything. I didn’t know how to fucking love someone, so… I hurt her. I hurt her in every way possible…

… And when she finally walked away from me, telling me that she “deserved better”, I fucking lost it. I lost the only fucking person in this world who mattered to me. The only person who tried to love even the darkest parts of me. I fucking lost her.

But her walking away from me. From us. Wasn’t going to stop me. No, she was fucking mine. And I was going to get her back, even if I had to force my way back into her life, she would come back to me.

“Rafe, are you sure about this?” Topper asks, pulling me from my own mind.

I shake my head, dragging my eyes up to find Topper’s intense stare. His eyes narrow into small slits, eyebrows raising as he tries to read my face. I blink. Once. Twice. “What?” I ask, completely confused.

“Are you sure you wanna do this shit, man? Y/N will never fucking forgive you, and you know…”

“I don’t fucking care, Top! She’s mine, and she needs to be fucking reminded of that!” I snap. My fists are now balled up at my sides, chest heaving up and down and nostrils flared as thoughts of her begin to fill my mind.

Topper throws his hands up in surrender. “Whatever, bro. Not my problem.”

I smile, but it holds no amusement. No happiness. It’s a cold smile. “Exactly. Not your problem. Now cut that shit up, I need one more line before I head out.”

Topper sighs, but does as I ask. He leans forward, grabbing my black Amex off the glass table and begins cutting a new set of lines for the two of us. I chew at the skin around my thumb nail as I watch him create four perfectly straight lines out of the white powdery substance.

Once he finishes, I shove his shoulder to the side, allowing me access to the table. I snatch the already rolled hundred dollar bill off of the glass, rolling it a little tighter and placing one end to my right nostril. I lean forward, sticking the other end of the bill onto one of the four lines and snort the powder up into my nose. I quickly do my second line before tossing the bill back onto the table and falling back into the couch, squeezing my eyes shut and letting out a loud sigh. The drug burns my nose and throat, but the numbing sensation that comes from the cocaine quickly replaces that burn. My nose, throat, and tongue are numb, but my entire body feels like it’s on fire, a new surge of adrenaline pumping into my veins and making me ready to do what I must do tonight.

I stand from my spot on the couch, glancing down at Topper once more before heading for the door. His concerned voice stops me in my tracks. “I really hope you know what you’re doing, man. She’s going to hate you after tonight”

I snort. I don’t give a fuck if she hates me. She’s mine, and she needs to be reminded of that. She can’t hate me more than she already does. Or maybe she can, I don’t know. If I have anything to say about it though, she won’t hate me. No, she’ll love me again. I’ll make sure she loves me.

“Maybe. But she can’t hate me forever. She will love me again.”

I walk out the door, slamming it shut behind me before Topper can even open his mouth to ramble off anymore bullshit. I didn’t care to hear it. I didn’t care about his opinion. I was doing this.

I sit outside of her work. Watching. Waiting. I know she’ll be off any minute now, I used to pick her up every night when we were together. My girl doesn’t have a car, so I already know she’ll probably be leaving with one of her coworkers, but that won’t stray my plan. It’ll only make it more interesting. More fun.

My phone goes off in my pocket, letting me know I have a text. Pulling it out, I glare down at the words on the screen.

Ward: Where the fuck are you Rafe? Tonight was fucking important and you’re fucking everything up. I don’t even know why i’m surprised, you’re nothing but a walking fuck up.

I growl, angrily tossing my phone into the passenger side floorboard. Fuck my dad. And fuck the business deal that he so badly needed me at tonight. He doesn’t give a fuck about anything other than money and Sarah. So naturally, I’m putting what I want first. And what I want is Y/N. I don’t give a fuck about anything else.

The sound of her laughter filters in through my cracked window, making me sit up straight in my seat. One glance out the windshield and I see her. She looks as gorgeous as I remember. And her laugh, fuck, it has my cock growing in my pants, straining against the harsh fabric of my boxers and jeans. I adjust myself, and shake my head a few times. I need to focus. My eyes travel to the left of her. My fists automatically ball themselves by my sides when I see her walking and talking with Pope. I fucking hate that pogue. I hate all pogues. Except for her. She will always be the exception.

He stands too close to her for my liking, and it makes my blood boil. Tossing a part of my plan out the window, I shove my door open and march my way toward them. She’s in the middle of talking when Pope’s wide eyes have her audibly clamping her mouth shut.

“Pope, what is- Rafe.” She says softly, her breathing picking up now that I’m right in front of her.

“Baby girl.” I reply, a slow smile spreading across my face.

“Don’t- Don’t call me that, Rafe. We’re not together anymore.”

My jaw tightens at her words, nostrils flaring as I try and keep my composure. I don’t need to lash out just yet. I need to keep my calm, for now.

I ignore her and turn my attention toward Pope. “Heyward. Get the fuck out of here.” I say simply. It’s as simple as that. He can leave, or I can beat the shit out of him. The choice is his.

He glares at me, his eyes narrowed into slits and his breathing calm. Seems like the kid grew a pair of balls in the last thirty seconds. He opens his mouth to speak, but my fist connecting with his nose cuts off whatever bullshit he was about to say.

“Rafe! What the fuck?!” Y/N shouts, dropping to her knees and checking on the boy that’s now laid out on the ground, blood pouring from his probably broken nose.

“Get up, Y/N. We’re leaving”

Her neck snaps in my direction so fast, eyes narrowed. “I’m not fucking going anywhere with you! Fucking leave me alone, Rafe!”

I roll my neck from side to side before taking a step toward her. “You can either come with me willingly, or I can make you come with me. Your call, baby girl.”

The look in her eyes has me straining in my jeans. She’s so fucking sexy when she’s mad. She looks down at Pope, he’s groaning and holding his nose as blood continues to pour from it.

“Y/N! Now!” I shout. My patience is growing thin. And she’s not going to like it if I have to force her to come with me. I want her to make at least one choice on her own tonight.

She slowly stands, but Pope grabbing at her hand has her stopping halfway up. I fist my hands, ready to fucking hit him again if needed.

“Y/N… Don’t go with him…” Pope says softly. I chuckle at that. He thinks she has a choice in the matter. The only choice she has is to willingly come. And even now, I have a feeling she’s going to opt out of that choice.

She glances between him and me, and I can see the gears turning in her head. She’s thinking of running. Go for it, baby. I’ve planned for her running. As if she can read my thoughts, she yanks her hand from his grip and turns as fast as she can. She takes off running down the empty street, but I’m right on her heels.

“Keep running baby, you know I love it when you run!”

She looks behind her shoulder, a look of pure fear in her eyes. When she puts her focus back on what’s in front of her I pick up my speed. Once I’m directly behind her, I wrap my right arm around her waist and yank her back into my front. She begins kicking and screaming, her nails clawing into my arm. “Rafe! Put me down!” She shouts, and I just laugh.

“Baby girl, you know I can’t do that.”

I carry her back to my truck, opening the back door and tossing her inside. I jog around to the driver side, glancing over to where she and Pope walked out of and noticing he’s gone. Oh well. Not my problem. My dad will get me out of whatever he tries to throw my way. I climb inside the truck, locking the doors and bringing the engine to life. I glance into the back seat to find her sitting up right, and she’s seething. Anger flashes through her beautiful eyes, her chest is heaving up and down and nostrils flaring as she glares at me.

“Fuck you, Rafe! What the fuck do you want?!”

I smirk. “You.” I answer simply, and her eyes go wide.

It’s as simple as that. I want her. And she is going to want me again, even if it takes days, months, years. She will want me again.

“Rafe, put me the fuck down! I can fucking walk!” She shouts. Her small fists are pounding into my back. I have her tossed over my shoulder, walking up the stairs of the porch and into the front door of Tannyhill.

Once inside, I finally set her down on her feet and she scrambles away from me. I laugh, she thinks she can escape me, but she can’t. She never will. She’s mine to own. To fuck. To control. She’s mine.

“You know, it hurts my feelings how scared of me you are, baby girl.”

Her eyes narrow. “Are you fucking serious? You just basically kidnapped me, Rafe! You’re fucking insane!”

I let out a breathy laugh. “I am insane. But only for you. Because of you. I fucking love you, Y/N. Why can’t you see that?”

She scoffs. “You don’t love me. You want to fucking own me, like I’m your fucking property or some shit. I’m not! I’m a human fucking being, Rafe!”

I love the fight she has in her. I always have. Just not when she’s fighting me. Against me. She’ll learn soon enough that I am the scariest part of her life. I’m her biggest threat. But I will also protect her. She needs to be protected from everyone but me. She fucking needs me.

“This can go one of two ways, sweetheart. One. You can willingly come upstairs with me, and let me fuck that attitude out of you, let me remind you who the fuck you belong to. Or two. I can drag your ass up those stairs by your hair and remind you who the fuck you belong to. Either way, you’re going to be begging for my cock by the end of the night.”

I don’t miss how her nipples harden at my words. She still wants me. When she notices my eyes on her now hard nipples she rolls her eyes and crosses her arms across her chest, causing me to smirk in amusement and arch a brow.

“I don’t fucking belong to you, Rafe! God, you’re fucking crazy! Go to hell!”

A smile spreads across my face at her words. “Sweetheart, I am hell.”

Her breath hitches in her throat and her arms drop to her sides. I take a step toward her, causing her to take one back. I roll my eyes, taking one long step toward her and closing the distance between us. I wrap my right arm around her waist, pulling her flush into my body. I lean my head down, breathing in her intoxicating scent before my lips brush against the shell of her ear, I whisper, “You wanna do things my way? I’ll take you right here. Right now. Don’t tempt me, sweetheart. I’m not against letting anyone see me claim what’s mine.”

I feel her body tense in my hold, and it only makes my smile grow. She’s scared of me. But that’s expected. For now. After I’m done with her, she’ll be begging for more. She won’t want to let me go. She’ll be mine, just like I am hers.

“Rafe-” She breathes out, but I cut her off. I smash my lips against hers in a breathtaking, aggressive kiss. She involuntarily moans against my mouth, allowing me to force my tongue into her mouth. She melts into me, her body going slack in my hold as she allows my tongue to explore her mouth, brushing against hers. God I fucking missed her. The taste of her.

She snaps her eyes open, pushing me back, and I’m so fucking weak from the kiss that I don’t fight it. I stumble back a little before straightening myself. She has her eyes narrowed and her tiny fists balled at her sides.

“Fuck you, Rafe! Stop trying to get into my head! I- I fucking can’t keep doing this with you!”

She tries to make her way past me, but I grip the back of her neck. I pull her backward, angling her head up so her eyes are on mine. She tries to pull herself from my grip, but I tighten my hand on her neck, making her whine out in pain.

“Is my soul too dark for you, baby girl? What is it? Can you not love me for who I am?”

She opens her mouth to speak, but I release her neck, tossing her onto the ground in the process. She lands on her ass, her hands flying behind her to keep her upright. I slowly make my way toward her, letting out a deep exhale.

“You see, I tried to be better for you. But I can’t change who I am. Not for you. Not for anyone. But, one thing did change. You wanna know what that is?”

Her eyes begin to fill with tears, one slipping past her lower lashes. “W-What?”

“I learned how to love. How to accept love into my life. I love you, Y/N. And you left me. Left me like I didn’t mean anything to you. That should have been enough for me to let you go. You know? I’ve always been rejected. My own dad fucking hates me. I’ve never known love. But you. You came into my fucking life and wrecked everything. I fell in love with you, and I know you loved me. So I can’t just let that go. I fucking need you. And you need me. Even if you don’t want to admit it.”

I kneel in front of her, reaching my right hand out and running it down the side of her pretty face. She flinches back and I grip her cheeks between my fingers, squeezing tightly. “Now. Let me remind you of who the fuck you belong to.”

She whimpers, more tears spilling past her lower lashes. I lay her onto her back, crawling on top of her and caging her in with my arms. She doesn’t fight. Sobs rack her chest, and she rolls her head to the side, trying to avoid my stare. I press my hips into hers, groaning when my hard dick presses against her clothed pussy.

“You feel that, Y/N? That’s what you do to me. You own me. Are you going to let me own you?”

She rolls her head back toward me. Her bloodshot eyes and mascara stained cheeks make me groan. Fuck, I’m in love with this girl. Even if she’s terrified of me right now, I fucking need her.

I chuckle at her silence. My hands go to the hem of her work shirt, sliding it up and exposing her smooth stomach. I take my left hand and run my fingers over the expanse of her skin, pulling a shudder from her. “You’re so fucking beautiful, sweetheart. And you’re all mine.”

She chokes out a sob, squeezing her eyes shut as my fingers trail up her stomach and to the underside of her bra. I cup one of her breasts in my hand, firmly squeezing at it. She whimpers, bringing her bottom lip between her teeth to try and silence her cries of pleasure.

I slip her shirt up and over her head, leaving her in her pink lace bra. I snake my hand underneath her back, finding the clasps that hold the bra in place and pop them. My fingers find the straps, slowly sliding them down her arms and exposing her chest to me. Her nipples are hard, perfectly pointed peaks. My mouth waters, wanting to suck on them. I lean my head down, wrapping my lips around one of her nipples and sucking at it lightly before bringing it between my teeth and lightly biting. She moans loudly when I pull back with her nipple in my teeth. I let the pebbled bud fall from my mouth and smirk down at her.

“Are you wet f’me, sweetheart?”

She rolls her eyes. “No”

I chuckle. She’s lying. I know her better than she thinks I do. And I know she’s fucking lying. She’s ashamed. She doesn’t want to be wet for me, but she is.

I run my fingers down to the waistband of her jeans, popping the button on them and slowly pulling the zipper down. She squirms underneath my touch, trying to get away but I press my weight into her, keeping her pressed onto the cold tile of the entryway of Tannyhill.

I slide the rough fabric down her legs just enough to expose her matching pink thong. I bought her this set. And fuck, she looks good wearing it. I slide my hand between us again, running my hand up her inner thighs until I reach her clothed center. Even from here, I can feel how soaked she is. I slide her panties to the side, baring her cunt and running my index finger through her arousal slick folds.

“You’re right, you’re not wet. You’re fucking soaked, princess. Your body misses me.”

I shove my index finger inside of her soaked pussy, pulling a moan from her. I add another, curling them slightly and working them in and out of her slowly. I press my palm firmly against her clit as I continue to fuck my fingers in and out of her. The sounds her pussy makes while my fingers are buried inside her have me straining harshly against my jeans. She begins to roll her hips, fucking herself against my hand.

I bury my face into her neck, sinking my teeth into her flesh and sucking a bruise into her otherwise flawless skin. I release her skin, looking at the deep purple bruise that adorns her neck before I lick the bruise and up to her ear. I nip at the lobe of her ear before whispering, “That’s it baby, ride my hand. Good fucking girl”

She whimpers, her hips picking up the pace as she rides my fingers and hand. Her pussy clenches around my fingers, letting me know she’s close to her release. I quickly pull my fingers from her, and she whines at the loss.

“Don’t worry baby, you’ll cum. But it’ll be all over my cock. I can’t wait any longer. I’m going to fuck this pretty pussy, and you’re going to love it”

I push myself off of her and quickly kick my shoes off before pulling my shirt over my head. I work on my jeans next, pulling them and my boxers down in one swift motion. Her eyes go wide when she sees my throbbing cock, precum already leaking from the tip. I drop to my knees and pull her jeans down the rest of the way. I rip her thong from her hips, making her gasp in surprise. “Rafe, I liked those!” I smirk. I can buy her a thousand more where that came from.

Ignoring her anger over the flimsy fabric I ripped from her body, I place my left hand on the ground, baring my weight while grasping my hard cock in my right hand and line it with her weeping entrance. My blue eyes find hers. “Tell me to stop. Tell me you don’t fucking want this, because if you don’t, I’m not sorry for what’s to come. I will fucking hurt you. I will not be gentle.”

She doesnt respond, and I take her silence as my okay. I shove myself inside her in one harsh push. I groan when my swollen head hits that spongey sweet spot inside of her and she gasps loudly. Her hands fly around my neck, nails digging into my shoulders. I stay still for a minute, needing to focus on not busting inside of her right now. I want to enjoy this. I want to fucking feel her wrapped around me for longer than a few fucking minutes, but she feels so fucking good. I feel like a teenage boy discovering women for the first time all over again.

“Fuck baby girl, so fucking right and wet. And all for me.” I rasp.

“Rafe… Please?” She begs.

“Please what, baby girl. Tell me what you want”

She whimpers and it makes my dick jerk inside her. “Please… Fuck me Rafe. I- I need you.”

I smirk. She admitted that she needs me. She fucking needs me.

I ignore the small victory for now and slowly pull myself from inside her, slamming myself back inside her warm cunt before she can even think of saying anything.

My hips find a pace, quick and harsh. I slam myself in and out of her. Her sweat slick body slides on the tile, and I wrap and arm around her waist, keeping her in place. I still myself inside her, quickly grabbing her right leg and placing it around my hips, allowing me better access to her pussy. I begin pounding my hips into hers again, pulling the sweetest moans from her lips.

“Tell me you’re fucking mine. Tell me you won’t ever fucking leave me again.”

She opens her mouth to speak, but nothing but whines and moans come out. I slow my hips, completely stilling myself inside her once more. My right hand wraps around her throat, squeezing and cutting off her air. Her wide, tear filled eyes stare up at me. “Fucking say it! Tell me you fucking need me! Tell me you fucking love me!”

She tries to speak, but my grip on her throat tightened, making her beautiful face turn a bright shade of red. Her lips begin to turn blue and I release her neck. She sucks in a deep breath of air, gasping as tears pour from her eyes.

“Tell me baby. Tell me you’re mine.”

“I-I’m yours, Rafe. Only yours. I need you. I love you. I’ll never leave you again.”

I smile at her words. They make a warmth flood through my body. A warmth i’ve only ever felt with her. She may be lying for her own pleasure right now, but she will love me again, and she will mean it.

Satisfied with her answer I begin thrusting into her again, slow and sensual thrusts that have her softly moaning. I dip my head down, burying it into her neck again. I sink my teeth into her shoulder, biting on the skin harshly before moving to the other side and repeating the action. She will be completely marked by me by the end of the night. Reminders of this night, reminders of who she belongs to marked into her skin.

Her pussy clenches around me, tightly gripping at my cock and sucking me in deeper. I groan, my lips kissing over all the bruises and teeth marks i’ve left on her skin. “Come f’me, princess. Come all over my cock, s’kay. Let me have it”

She whimpers, her pussy pulsing and body stiffening as her release rushes through her. Her body shakes, tears spill from her eyes as she screams my name. I smash my lips with hers, silencing her cries. Our tongues clash together, heavy breathing and the sounds of our skin slapping bounce off the walls. I break the kiss, my eyes finding hers. “I’m gonna cum inside this pretty pussy baby. I wanna see you swollen with my child. Do you want that? You can’t escape me if you’re pregnant with my child.”

She whines, squeezing her eyes shut as she nears another orgasm. I feel her pussy clench around me again, squeezing me tightly like it’s trying to milk me for every last drop of my cum.

My hips stutter, dick twitching inside her warm and wet cunt as I explode deep inside her pussy. “That’s it baby, take it all. I wanna see you pregnant with my baby. You’re mine. Forever”

I push deep inside her one more time, shoving my cum deep into her abused cunt before I slowly pull myself out. I fall to the floor beside her, rolling onto my side and kissing her sweat slick forehead. “All mine baby. You’re never leaving me again.”

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[walkingintheheartbreaksatellite]

I Want Forever

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Gif credit goes to @londonharry (So sorry! I don’t normally use gifs so I forgot to give credit!)

Summary- Harry and Y/N broke up early into Love On Tour. Harry struggled to truly move on, as did Y/N. With tour over, a lost soul shows up at Y/N’s door one night, ready for forever.

Warnings- angst, smooshiness, you may cry

>>>————————->

September 2021

“Y/N, love, please! I haven’t seen you in weeks! Can’t you take just a bit of time off to come to my next show?”

I sigh into the phone and shake my head, knowing full well he can’t see me.

“Harry, you know I can’t! I’m swamped with school! I skipped 4 assignments and took zeroes for them when I was with you last! This is my future-.”

“And what about our future?! I told you! I want a life with you! You don’t need to be working this hard! You don’t even need to work!”

I scoff and bite my lip.

“Harry, you know I won’t! My career is important! This is what I’m working so hard for! I want to work and I want to be somebody! Not just a pop star’s girlfriend! You’re always gone. If you can’t drop your career for me then you shouldn’t ask me to drop mine for you. I thought you understood that..?”

My heart breaks more and more as he sighs into the phone.

“So that’s it then? You’re just… You’re giving up on us?”

“Harry-.”

“No, no, don’t bother. We should just end it before it gets worse for either of us. I hope things work out for you, Y/N.”

He hangs up and with that, I breakdown. I cry and I cry, praying that this was just a nightmare. But I knew he was right. And without Harry… I could focus…

July 2023

It had been a long week. In fact, it had been a long few years. After the break up, I distanced myself a lot. I got off of social media and threw myself into finishing school and eventually, entered, I got my dream job.

As much as I love helping kids, the ones that are like me and the ones that struggle worse, it breaks my heart. After the break up, I got myself back into therapy to cope.

While I am no longer spiraling, the pain is still there. I never tried to get my things. I never made contact again. I just ran. I ran from everything.

After another long, emotional day of work, I stumble into my apartment and crash on my couch. After giving myself a few moments to scream my frustrations into the couch cushion, I get up and make myself a light dinner before getting some extra work done.

I park myself down at the coffee table with a glass of white wine and a frozen dinner, turning my attention to my laptop when there’s a knock at the door. I glare curiously at the door and hesitantly get up, making my way to the door.

I hesitantly open it and my mouth drops when I see who’s on the other side of the door.

“Harry…”

He looks in my eyes, his face sullen.

“Y/N…”

Before I can really think, I try to close the door but I hear a small ‘ow’ from the other side of the door. I look down and see Harry’s foot in the door. I sigh and let it go, opening it again. He looks at me and pulls his foot back.

“Can we… Can we talk?”

I fold my arms and frown.

“We don’t have anything to talk about. Now if you’ll excuse me-.”

“Y/N, please! Just- Just hear me out!”

He steps forward and I take a step back as he backs me into my apartment and closes the door.

“There’s nothing left to say, Harry. I’ve made my peace. Obviously you have too. So you should just go-.”

He places his hands on my arms and looks into my eyes.

“Y/N, you’re all I’ve thought about since we broke up… I have missed you so.. So much, love. And I know I was horrible to you and I will never forgive myself for that. But I can’t- I need you, Y/N. I can’t take one more day without you…”

Tears well up in my eyes and I shake my head.

“You can’t just come back into my life and say that! You were the one that ended things Harry, you! I supported you through everything! And you couldn’t support me?! My career is important to me! School was important! You were important!”

I take a deep breath, trying to calm down before I continue.

“I shouldn’t have to choose between them! And you made the choice for me! And you, you moved on! Multiple times! I-.”

Harry shakes his head, tears spilling down his soft cheeks.

“That’s not true! I- I couldn’t… It was hard, Y/N! I-I made a mistake… I tried to move on but I just couldn’t.. I missed you Y/N. I miss you. And.. I just want you back. I-I know I don’t deserve you, even after all I’ve done… But I just can’t let you go. I refuse to let you go without a fight.”

Before I can say anything, Harry moves to his knees and he takes me hands, forcing me to look down at him.

“Harry-.”

He pulls out a ring box, his hands shaking as tears continue to spill down his cheeks.

“Just.. Hear me out. The last two years, I have done nothing but berate myself for chasing you away. No matter how I tried to move on, you were always on my mind. 3 years. You were with me from the start. And I wasn’t there for you like I should’ve been-.”

I attempt to pull him up and he shakes his head.

“Just wait. Please just let me finish… I made a mistake Y/N… But I don’t want to make another… Please… Y/N L/N… Will you marry me? Will you let be make it up to you? I will spend the rest of my life making sure you never feel like you have to choose. I’ll support you and I’ll-.”

I begin to cry and I drop to my knees as I sob. Harry drops the ring box and takes my cheeks in his hands, wiping my tears away with his thumb as he makes me look at him. His expression softens though his eyes remain teary, and he gives me a small smile.

“I am so, so sorry my love. I will spend every day making sure you know just how much I love you. And I know have a lot to make up for but please.”

I sigh and close my eyes for a minute. I take a deep breath before opening them again.

“Yes… I’ll marry you, Harry.”

His eyes light up and he opens his mouth to speak but I place my finger on his lips, stopping him.

“But I have a few conditions. These past couple years haven’t been easy. For the first few months… I couldn’t stand even hearing your name-… I want to go to therapy. You and me. Couples counseling. And- I want to take some time to heal… You coming back is putting salt in old wounds.”

He lets go of my cheeks and looks down, his sides dropping. I sigh and despite my better judgment, I wrap my arms around his neck and I kiss him. His eyes widen for a moment before he sinks into the kiss, deepening it. After a minute or so, I pull away and Harry looks into my eyes.

“I want you to listen to me, okay?”

He’s quiet for a second before he nods, gesturing me to continue.

“You made a mistake. And you’re owning up to it. I want to be with you Harry, I do. But I think we need to spend some time working through things together before we tie the not.”

He’s quiet for a moment before I hear him grab something off the floor.

“So… Does that mean you don’t want to wear the ring yet?”

I let out a small snort and shake my head. I pull away from him and hold my right hand out to him.

“No, gimmie that! I had been waiting for that! But it does mean that you’ll have to wait a little longer before you can marry me.”

He smiles and slips the ring on my finger and picks me up, twirling me around in his arms as I laugh.

It won’t be easy, but I want forever, and I want it with him.

>>>—————->

I hope you enjoyed lovelies! I would definitely be open to writing more for them!!! Requests are closed for now, until I catch up, but I will let you know when they’re open again!

Tag List

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