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#i'm ready to get hate bombed
A Message to Queer People Hurt by the Church.
I don't know if I am in a place to do this, however I would like to apologise on behalf of Christians everywhere for our treatment, present and past, of the LGBTQ+ community.
I have faced homophobic discrimination at the hands of my churches under various justifications. None of it was okay. None of it will ever be okay.
Homophobia is hate. Transphobia is hate.
Jesus taught love. Jesus teaches love.
Love is love. Love comes in many forms. If you cannot see that, and choose to hate on those for whom they love, while still saying you're Christian, kindly, get your head out of your crusty asshole and read the bible.
LGBTQ+ Christians; I see you, I love you, and I am praying for you. Jesus loves you. God, in all their beautiful forms, loves you. You were made in God's image. You do not need to change for anyone.
Nga mihi
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wikiangela · 10 months
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last line tag
tagged by @jesuisici33 @thewolvesof1998 @daffi-990 @jamespearce9-1-1 @lover-of-mine @hippolotamus @disasterbuckdiaz 💖💖
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It’s a good few weeks, and it feels like everyone’s back on track, settling into their lives again, figuring everything out one day at a time. Buck’s happy. He has his awesome girlfriend, his best friend seems finally more at ease, even if the divorce is adding some stress, and his other best friend is happier than ever with his mom around. Everything’s finally starting to go great.
And then it all gets disrupted again.
___
no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @diazblunt @911onabc @spagheddiediaz @housewifebuck @gayhoediaz @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @monsterrae1 @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @exhuastedpigeon @weewootruck @loserdiaz @evanbegins @steadfastsaturnsrings @ladydorian05 @malewifediaz @pirrusstuff @theotherbuckley @911-on-abc @spotsandsocks @hoodie-buck @giddyupbuck @wildlife4life @fortheloveofbuddie @nmcggg @diazpatcher @jeeyuns
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theloveinc · 9 months
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the ideas i'm having right now vs. my ability to express them and myself
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ilyrafe · 5 months
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𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄.
pairing: rafe cameron x f!reader
warnings: brief sexual innuendo, rafe being a softie!!!!
word count: 2.6k (i *might* have gotten carried away i'm so sorry lol)
a/n: this is a sequel to late night and also based on this, so thanks @keziahcore ! your mind is literally everything!
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it’s almost like a sixth sense.
rafe feels your absence from the bed, and immediately becomes agitated. he turns on the lamp next to his bed and looks for any sign that you’re still there, and finds your small handbag on the armchair, which makes him just slightly relieved. 
when he looks at the clock, he sees that it is almost two in the morning. the bathroom door is ajar and the lights are off, which means you’re not there. before he can leave his room looking for you, you return, holding a glass of water, wearing only his shirt to cover yourself up.
“where were you? why did you leave me here?”
he can’t control this agony, this anguish that always catches him off guard when he finds himself alone. he can’t help feeling like a time bomb, ready to explode at any moment. the smallest things you do seem to trigger him massively, and he hates that. he hates that he ends up being rude and harsh to you, because you’re always so understanding and sweet.
even he knows he doesn’t deserve you.
“i was thirsty and went downstairs to drink some water.” your tone is sweet and calm, which makes him feel like shit.
his face changes, as he seems to calm down. you didn’t leave him, you just went to get some water. you’re there, your stuff is there, you’re not going anywhere.
“next time, leave a glass here. i don’t like it when you do that.” he says in a much softer tone, but he’s still upset that his sleep got interrupted.
“do what? get hydrated?” you joke, trying to lighten up his mood.
he rolls his eyes and huffs. don’t make him tell the truth.
“go back to bed. i’m tired, alright? i had a long day.”
“actually, i was going to read a book. i’m not sleepy and i don’t want to lie down right now.”
is it so hard to understand that he wants you to be close to him so that he feels safe enough to get a decent night’s sleep?
“you can read on the bed.”
“you won’t mind the lamp on?”
“no, just get the damn book and come back to bed.”
you laugh and nod, picking up the book from his desk and following him to his bed. rafe gets to his spot and as you sit down, he places one hand on your bare thigh and falls back to sleep almost immediately.
while he dives deep into his necessary rest, you start reading. it’s that book, in cold blood by truman capote. you don’t know if rafe is a reader, he never really talks about books with you.
every once in a while, you look down at your thighs to see his hand, firmly holding you, to make sure you won’t leave. this small gesture makes you feel stupid. stupid to believe he might feel something other than lust for you. rafe makes you question your beliefs and that itself makes you feel overwhelmed.
sometimes you want to leave, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. and you have tried countless times. he’s good for you in the same intensity he’s bad. to say you’re scared to ask him what you are would be an understatement, but you just would like some clarification, because you don’t beg the people you’re casually fucking to stay the night almost every night and throw a tantrum when they leave to get some water.
deep down, you know you’re more scared to hear you’re just an easy fuck. at this point, this would tear you apart.
being with rafe is a challenge. it’s like running a marathon you know you will not get to the finish line, and yet, you keep running.
when it’s almost four in the morning, you close the book and turn the lamp off. finally, sleep comes to you, and you settle into his bed, still holding rafe’s hand, which never left your thigh. with the touch, rafe wakes up, and this time he is no longer agitated.
“sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” you say, as you snuggle into the mattress.
“you- what time is it?” he asks, adorably confused and sleepy.
“it’s almost four.”
“and you’re going to sleep now?”
“yeah. go back to sleep, it’s early.” you say softly, placing a hand on his cheek, and he complies, pulling you close.
(...)
rafe’s alarm clock rings promptly at seven in the morning. he turns it off and goes back to his previous position: hugging you.
your hair smells like coconut and your skin is always soft. he never wants to not be touching you. it’s like your body was made to be next to his. for some reason, just your presence is enough to make him feel calm and at peace.
he places the softest kiss on your shoulder, enjoying the quietness that only early mornings can give him. the sweet sound of birds chirping outside makes him forget about everything else. rafe only has you in his mind (and in his arms).
you wake up and soon turn to face him. rafe has the most adorable sleepy face, and you might never stop melting over him. seeing him up close will never not be amazing. he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. he probably has the most beautiful shade of blue in his eyes.
“go back to sleep.” he whispers.
“‘m not sleepy anymore.” you mumble as you rub your eyes, which rafe finds captivating. “hi.”
“hi,” he smiles. “you only slept for three hours, sleep some more.” he insists, and you feel a tone of concern in his voice, but maybe it’s just your sleep giving you that impression.
“i’m okay, rafey.”
rafey. he hates that stupid nickname, but when it comes out of your mouth, he wants to legally change his name to it.
“you’re gonna be tired.”
“no, i’m not. i don’t normally sleep a lot.”
rafe frowns not because he’s confused - he obviously isn’t. he’s just not liking what you’re saying. he doesn’t like the idea of you struggling with whatever that may be. rafe knows damn well how bad it is to be sleep deprived, he doesn’t want you going through that.
“you have insomnia?”
“i guess i do,” you shrug. “i don’t really know. i just don’t sleep a lot. i wish i did, though. i get so jealous when i see you sleeping for hours on end.” you smile sweetly at him. “you’re so relaxed. must be nice…”
you let go of rafe after leaving a timid kiss on his lips, and stretch before getting up and going to his bathroom to start your morning routine.
after a quiet breakfast, rafe gives you a ride home, and he can’t hide his concern about what you said.
“i’ll see you around, yeah?” you tell him, with the sweetest smile you always have.
“of course. uh, about that sleep thing… if you need help with that… i’m here.”
“rafe, i think you might be a sex addict.” you joke, really not understanding what he meant. he isn’t talking about sex. the one time he isn’t talking about sex, you don’t get it.
“well, i’m just one call away.”
you chuckle and intend to kiss his cheek, but rafe is quick enough to turn his face and make you kiss his lips. you laugh at his antics.
silly rafe is your favorite. if only other people got to see this side of him.
he watches you leave his car and get inside your home. the strange feeling of loneliness comes back almost immediately, but it gets him thinking. it has to be some sort of irony that the person that quite literally helps him sleep isn’t sleeping.
(...)
only two days have passed and rafe already needs you to spend the night at his house again. he is so tired and exhausted. he takes out his phone and quickly types a message.
rafe: are u busy right now? can i pick u up?
you don’t tend to take long to respond to his texts, but this time, an hour goes by and nothing, so rafe starts to feel that unbearable anguish again, and starts to think that you left him and that you found someone better to spend you time with.
impulsively, rafe facetimes you, and you answer. from your face alone, he can see the tiredness in your eyes. or rather, in your dark circles. you’re in your bedroom, which makes him feel calmer.
“hi, rafey. sorry, i just got my phone.”
“what are you doing?”
“i’m studying for my exams.”
“i just wanted to know if i could pick you up.”
“i’d love to,” you smile. “but it’s not a good idea, i need to study and i have a mountain of books to read until tomorrow if i want a good grade, which i do.”
“you’re tired, you should rest.” he advises, visibly worried.
“nothing a can of red bull can’t fix.” you say showing him the can.
“y/n, please go to sleep.”
something about his request makes you angry. maybe it’s the stress, or the fact that this time rafe is right.
“rafe, you’re not my boss. i need to hang up, i got shit to do.”
before he can protest, you hang up the call, and surprisingly, rafe doesn’t get angry. this is what it’s like when he’s sleep deprived.
as always, rafe wants to take control of the situation, so he puts on a hoodie, grabs his car keys and leaves his house to go to yours. it’s late at night, and rafe knows your parents are probably asleep.
the path is short, and soon he arrives in front of your house and the light is on in your bedroom, which tells him that you are still up. carefully, rafe gets out of his car and walks to the back of your residence, and climbs the wall, always making sure he doesn’t get caught by anyone. finally, rafe gets on the small balcony of your room and sees you surrounded by papers, books and notebooks. it’s a mess.
he knocks on the glass door, which startles you, but you soon calm down when you see it’s him. you almost run to open the door, but your face isn’t the happiest.
“what are you doing here, rafe?”
“nice to see you, too.” he ironizes as he steps inside your bedroom. “i have a proposition for you.”
“i’m so not in the mood, rafe…”
“listen to me.” he says. “i’ll… i’ll help you out with this stuff, as long as you let me help you sleep.”
“i don’t wanna have sex.”
“i’m not talking about sex.”
oh.
“you mean… sleep? like, really sleep?”
“yeah. i don’t like that you sleep so little. you’re becoming cranky.”
you chuckle at the last bit. you can’t stay mad at him, can you?
“that’s a nice offer, rafe, but what do you know about biology?”
“i’ll have you know i was a good student.” he pouts and you laugh. “even if i don’t know what you’re studying, i’ll help you out.”
it takes you a few seconds, but it’s decided. your body is about to give out, you really need to rest. you can’t absorb any more information. a good sleep might even help you learn whatever you need.
“okay.”
rafe smiles and it might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.
you begin to organize all your notes and books on your desk and rafe begins to undress down to his underwear, and gets comfortable on your bed. he realizes this is his first time sleeping on your bed, and he already likes the faint smell of rosemary that your bedroom exudes.
you have such a pretty bedroom. the walls are painted in the softest shade of blue, and you have books everywhere. no wonder you’re so smart, you read a lot.
the wooden furniture gives an earthy feel to your room, contrasting with the delicacy of the light blue walls. in the photos of the small mural on the wall, rafe realizes that he wanted to be there, present in the photos, and maybe, in a photo with you. you are always smiling and being hugged by someone, or hugging them. you are like that, you are magnetic.
you finish organizing your things and quickly change into a shirt of rafe’s that you hope he doesn’t recognize. it’s big and comfortable, and it makes you feel close to him when he’s far away.
the lamp next to your bed is on, so you turn off the main light in your room and go to your bed, meeting rafe, and he has the smallest smile on his lips. it’s ironic how having sex and being naked doesn’t feel as intimate as simply sleeping together does.
“are your parents home?” he asks.
“no, why?”
“so i could have come through the door, huh.”
“yeah.” you laugh.
a brief moment of silence sits between you two, as you’re staring at each other’s eyes. rafe is mesmerized and terrified at the same time. this - whatever this is - feels so nice and so foreign. he knows damn well he isn’t one to want to just sleep with someone, let alone climb up a wall to just sleep with someone.
rafe cameron is in love, and he is utterly terrified.
“what are you thinking?” you ask in a whisper.
your blinks are getting slower and slower. rafe begins to run his hand through your hair, combing them back, and touching the skin of your neck and shoulders ever so softly.
thinking about how much i want to be with you and how fucking scared i am.
“nothin’. close your eyes.”
you do, not because he told you to, but because you couldn’t keep them open any longer. 
why do you feel the safest with someone as dangerous as rafe cameron? someone who deals with the shadiest people around, that has anger issues and violent behavior.
that tried to drown his own sister.
why none of that matters when you’re in his arms? are you actually insane?
probably.
(...)
as soon as you wake up, you see your bed empty, and rafe’s clothes are no longer on the floor, where he had left them last night. it was to be expected, but you still feel disappointed. he was so sweet last night.
when you look at the clock, it’s already past nine in the morning, which means you’ve slept, surprisingly, eight hours straight. damn, you really were sleep deprived.
the sound of your stomach begging for food makes you get out of bed.
when you leave your bedroom, you hear the sound of the tv on and get scared. slowly, without making any noise, you go down the stairs, trying to find out if your house has been invaded, but it would be strange, as it is daytime. soon you see rafe walking around your house.
he didn’t leave?
it’s like you’re not even there. you get to watch rafe make himself comfortable in your kitchen, looking for stuff to put on the table. there are two delivery bags on the counter, which means he bought food, but the gesture warms your heart, which was merely shattered.
“the cutlery is in the second drawer next to the sink.” you say, startling him a bit.
“jesus. can you, i don’t know, announce you’re in the room? i almost dropped your coffee.”
you laugh.
“sorry, rafey. what are you doing, i thought you had left.”
“uh, i bought breakfast for y- us.” he says. you look inside the bags and you can tell he ordered possibly everything you have eaten from that place. “c’mon, i ordered that vegan shit you like, your coffee and even a pretzel.”
you follow him to the table and you both begin helping yourselves. this isn’t your first time having breakfast with him, but it does feel like it’s a first.
for the first time, you don’t want to leave him.
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kasagia · 9 months
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The grudge (Losing your memory pt. 2)
Pairing: Young! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader Summary: You promised you would destroy him. Be his ending at all costs. The fight between you begins. Both about his position as President of Panem and about the feelings you still have for him. But the question still haunts you... is your Coryo really gone? The second part of Losing your memory, but can be read as a separate oneshot. Although I recommend reading it. Inspired by: "The grudge" by Olivia Rodrigo and @uhnanix idea/request Taglist: @uhnanix @serving-targaryen-realness @diannana @aoi-targaryen @omgsuperstarg @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi @un06 @tallulah477 @snowspubes @hueanhdang @snowspubes @phsychobanana @blythlover ~•♤♤♤•~ Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~
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"Wait... what do you want to do?" Clemensia Dovecote asks in shock when you invite her over a few days after your birthday party.
"You heard me." you reply calmly, playing with the Sejanus bracelet on your wrist.
"This is madness, Y/N. You can't… you…"
"You think so?" you ask, amused by her scandalized reaction. "The Capitol has seen stranger, worser things." you say, getting up from the couch and walking over to the mini bar to pour you both a drink. "Besides, you have to admit, it's an… exciting idea. People are going to love it… well, maybe not the old farts and those idiots from our year, but... I'm very optimisitc about it."
"Yes, but… my God, HE is going to hate you for this." she says with a growing smirk on her face. You laugh heartily and hand her the glass.
"This is the least of my worries. The question is... will you stand by my side?"
"Y/N? You've been quieter lately, has something happened?" your mother snapped you out of your thoughts as the three of you ate dinner together.
You replayed your conversation with Clemansia from a few months ago, wondering how to break the news to your parents… actually, now was as good a time as any. You doubt there would ever be a good time to convey something like this.
"I… actually yes." you say, clearing your throat and getting ready to drop the bomb on them.
"Is that Coriolanus? Did he propose to you?" you choke on the drink you were drinking and look at your mother with a dose of disbelief and disgust.
Apparently, the ridiculous amount of roses, chocolates, dresses, and even fucking jewellery that Coriolanus was sending you didn't go unnoticed by your mother. After the first month, you thought he would take the hint, but since he tirelessly sent you gifts, you stopped returning them to him damaged (e.g., cut roses and burned clothes) and decided to give them to the servants and maids and simply ignore that poisoned snake.
"What?! No, of course not. Besides, I wouldn't say yes like... never." you shudder at the thought, at which your father laughs, joining in on the conversation between the two of you for the first time.
"Then what is it?"
Their expectant glances intimidate you for a moment, and for the first time, you wonder if the decision you've made is right. But there was no turning back. You won't let Coriolanus win so easily (or, rather, at all).
"I… well. I've submitted my candidature for president of Panem."
The silence in the room after your statement is... extremely disturbing. They both freeze; your father holds the fork halfway to his mouth, staring at you in amazement, and your mother looks like they've frozen her. For a moment, you wonder if you've given them a heart attack. But your concern for them quickly fades when their loud collective screams echo throughout the dining room.
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"
"So I guess I won't have your votes then?" you ask jokingly, going back to cutting your steak.
"Are you crazy? A female president?!" your mother asks indignantly, and you roll your eyes. Honestly, you were a little surprised at her shock. As if you would ever play her role as an obedient wife.
"You may not know it, mother, but more and more female politicians appear in the government. Right, dad?" you ask him, using your only-daughter charm on him, mentally thanking everyone above that this man never treats you with disrespect and hostility like other fathers would if their only child was a girl.
Maybe you kind of enjoyed being his precious diamond after all. Even if that made you desired by all of Capitol's young men, who were more than willing to take your hand in marriage and dowry.
"That doesn't mean you have to be one of them! Y/F/N, tell her something!" you look pleadingly at your father, and after his long silence, you already know that you are melting his heart to your will. All it took was a little, gentle pressure.
"What are your real chances of winning?" he asks with a sigh as your mother looks at him with disbelief.
"Y/F/N..."
"I think my only serious opponent is Coriolanus. People are fed up with these fearful politicians who have been arguing with each other for a long time. Me and Snow are a fresh take on Capitol affairs. We are young and ambitious. People may choose us out of curiosity alone. And among the female electorate, I think I have a much better chance than him... if you can convince mother to let me do this, of course. I won't do anything without your blessing and support." you reply, looking at him confidently. His face is unreadable, as are his eyes, and you silently hope that you have inherited his ability to hide your emotions.
"Y/F/N you can't think about that seriosuly. She can't do this!"
"If you want to be in power, wouldn't it be better for you to join forces? Run a joint campaign. You would become Prime Minister, and he would become President if being a First Lady didn't suit you."
"I am Y/L/N. I am taking everything or nothing." this one sentence makes his façade break down. He smiles and clears his throat, trying to hide his proud smirk behind his glass of wine.
"Very good. You know your bank account number. If you need more campaign funds, in a reasonable amount, of course, you know who to ask." you smile at this and get up from your chair, ignoring your mother's words of protest.
"Thank you, father." you say, kissing his cheek and leaving the dining room, leaving him to deal with your mother's anger. You had to call your staff. The game was about to start.
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You enter the parliament building quite uncertainly. You are wearing a white suit made by Tigris. The black vest, which is intended to liven up the outfit, fits you a bit too tight, but you blame it on the fact that you've been stress-eating sweets lately. You will ask her to sew you appropriate clothes later.
For now, you wanted as few people as possible to know about your candidacy. You trusted Tigris, but there was no way in hell you could let Coriolanus find out about this beforehand. You will present him with a fait accompli.
Just like he did when he chose Lucy Gray.
You notice him first. He is wearing a blood-red suit and a snow-white shirt. You wonder if subconsciously it's his reminder of the deaths of the people who allowed him to be where he stands now, but you prefer to think that the bastard simply has no conscience.
You could easily escape from him, but you don't want to. Not any longer. He will be the one running away from you. So you walk straight up to him, the click of your high heels echoing off the marble floor of the Parliament building.
"Nice suit." you say to him. He lifts his head and turns to you as he hears your voice. You can't read the look in his cold, blue eyes, but you don't care about that now. You're only here to stick a pin in him before his performance. "You wore your father's clothes and now you wear Sejan's? Maybe you haven't really changed at all." you scoff at him, and he shakes his head with an equally mocking smile as yours.
"This is probably the latest collection from your favorite designer. Not that I remember." he says, putting his hands in his pockets and watching you carefully as he takes a step towards you.
"Impossible. My favourite designer is Tigris. And I heard that lately you're too much of a snobbish, self-assured asshole to wear what she made for you."
"Maybe it's because she's turning you against me, trying to convince you that I'm a monster?" he says this ironically as you both stare at each other.
You notice that the rose is missing from his jacket pocket. His hair is also messier, as if he's running a nervous hand through it—a habit that obviously hasn't died with your Coryo. You frown at this but shake it off to respond to his taunt.
"Maybe you are actually a monster, Coriolanus? Didn't that occur to you? How could anybody do the things you did so easily? Or maybe Dr. Gaul calls this an unconventional, out-of-the-box way of thinking?"
"At least she's not pretending to be someone she's not." he growls at you, furious, a grudge shining in his eyes, at which you seethe in anger. He, of all people, has no right to resent you.
"At least I can honestly say I'm not a murderer. And what about you?"
Before you can react, he takes a step towards you. One of his hands wraps around your throat like a snake. However, he remembers that you are in a public place and quickly moves his hand to your cheek and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. His icy eyes are locked on yours as he tries to read any reaction from you. You give him nothing. And you're damn proud of it.
"If you didn't come to wish me luck in my first public appearance as a candidate for president, you should go. Before I give you a real reason to call me a monster, little diamond." he whispers quietly, the tone of his voice laced with threat, but you don't give a damn.
"Oh, snowy… I really wish you a lot of luck. You'll need it, my boy." you say, patting his chest dismissively. You walk away, making sure to bump his arm with yours as you move past him to go to the hall where the first recording for the presidential candidatures of Panem is to be held.
And you already know that it will be hard for you not to look at him, as a furious surprise will appear on his face when he sees that you will also be presenting your programme and announcing your candidature.
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You've regretted your candidature many times over the past two weeks. Partly because you had to spend more and more time with the devil in a fancy suit. You didn't see this coming; you were too busy thinking about preventing him from winning. Now you had to attend balls with him and other candidates and various events that helped promote your campaigns, smile at cameras and photographers, and try to remain as polite and courteous to others as you needed.
Like now.
You were attending some important business event, and your uncomfortable high heels were digging into your skin, hurting you. But it was worth bleeding a little. You looked drop-dead gorgeous.
"Tomorrow you have an interview with the Capitol Times; the day after tomorrow we are promoting in the children's ward at the hospital; at the end of the week we both have to go to Fulvia Cardew's engagement party. And in the meantime, you have to go to at least three fittings of new clothes that Tigris made." Clemensia says, writing something down in her small notebook.
"Thanks, Clem. I don't know what I'd do without you." you say with a small smile as you sip your glass of champagne.
"You'd have to keep that stupid calendar and schedule yourself. If you want to help in some way, you can finally answer one of the many calls from Coriolanus. He torments both me and the servants in your house at night."
"And make my mother lose hope that someone is courting me? No thanks; this way, I have peace from her, and I don't have to talk to him longer than I should. Besides, I thought you liked it when I gave you the gifts he somehow managed to leave at my door."
"At some point, yes... but you will finally have to clean up the relationship between you two. Even if we win, Coriolanus will remain an important political player, and it would be good to have him on our side. Besides, it's obvious that he… oh shit. Gaul is coming." she says, terrified, and leaves you. You turn around just as the co-creator of The Hunger Games walks up to you.
“Miss Y/L/N. Congratulations. You surprised me.” you swallow the rest of the champagne and set the glass on the table behind you, preparing to face this crazy woman.
"I think half of the Capitol was in a similar condition. But I appreciate the gesture, Dr. Gaul." you say this with a polite smile as the woman looks you up and down. You're glad you're keeping yourself from trembling under her scrutinising, watchful gaze.
"Mr. Snow seemed to be particularly surprised. As soon as he returned to the lab, he came up with wonderful ideas for next year's Hunger Games." she boasts, and you smile fakely. It sickens you to think about what these two could have come up with for these poor children. But you don't show it. Instead, you chose to strike back.
"I heard that after Lucy Gray's disappearance, their... popularity dropped a bit. I hope things are going well with the sponsors? It would be such a shame if the project and ideas had to be... cancelled due to a lack of money."
"We're doing well. When Mr. Snow becomes president, I think the government will be more willing to fund them."
"IF Mr. Snow becomes president, Dr. Gaul." you correct her, slightly irritated. The woman smiles and nods her head mockingly.
"Of course... If." she says it with a wolfish, menacing smile.
You both stare at each other with hatred for a moment, both of you refusing to give up in your little battle. The atmosphere between you is tense.
You flinch when you feel a hand on your back. The delicate scent of roses begins to float in the air.
"Dr. Gaul. I am so happy to see you here. Y/N, you look amazing as always." Coriolanus says as he leans in and places a kiss on your cheek. You would wipe it in disgust if there weren't other people around you.
"Mr. Snow." Dr. Gaul greets him.
The mysterious smile never leaves her face as she watches the two of you. You remember what she just said. How Coriolanus was still so eagerly working with her on the Hunger Games. His hand on your back starts to burn you in an unpleasant way.
"Excuse me. I need to get some fresh air. It started to stink in here." you say, subtly implying that it's the scent of Coriolanus and his rose that bothers you as you walk away from them both.
You go to the roof of the penthouse, which is surprisingly empty, and take out a cigarette. You search for the lighter, thinking about what Gaul told you. Somehow you felt even more distant from Coriolanus... as if she emphatically confirmed what you already knew.
Your Coryo was completely gone. And there was nothing that could bring him back to you.
But why did you still care about him anyway?
"I didn't know you started smoking." you flinch when you hear his voice behind you.
You ignore him, trying to light the lighter, but to no avail. Apparently, today everything must have gone shitty for you. Seeing your struggles, he walks over to you. He takes a lighter from his pants pocket and holds it to your cigarette, lighting it.
"What the hell do you want?" you ask him madly, at which he raises his eyebrows, but he is not moving away from you.
"What? You won't even thank me? You know, I've helped you there. I could just leave you to talk with Gaul, but I walked in and took her attention from you." he says, stuffing the lighter and his hands into his pockets as he leans on the railing next to you, staring at the skyline of the Capitol below you.
"I didn't need a fucking hero. I could have left her at any time. Unlike you, I don't play vaseline, I don't humiliate myself, and I don't do anything I don't want to, just to please other people." you snort and blow a cloud of cigarette smoke at him. He coughs, looking at you offended, to which you just smirk.
"You know, I remember the time when you were doing everything in your power to please ME. In many, many ways, actually." he says, using his hand to wave away your clouds of cigarette smoke.
"Keep these memories close to you because they will never happen again. I'd rather be burned alive than ever sleep with you again." you say it with obvious disgust. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the furrow of anger forming between his eyebrows. "Don't frown. Or make-up artists will have a hard time covering your wrinkles."
"I have no idea why you are so aggressive and act madly when it comes to me. I didn't do anything to you." he responded firmly to your mocks, never taking those ice-blue irises off of you.
"That's the problem, Coriolanus! You think that you don't do anything wrong, when the truth is that you are taking actions that are terrible. I feel like puking just looking at you and thinking about how many children will suffer because of Dr. Gaul's and your crazy ideas." you burst out furiously at him. You are now standing opposite each other, both of you glaring at the other in a furious, defiant way.
"The Hunger Games are necessary."
"Bullshit." you interrupt him before he can make any arguments. You see him sigh, running a hand through his gelled hair.
You catch yourself subconsciously missing his curls and how you used to stroking them when he was lying with you on your couch and reading a set book for one of your classes…
"Have you ever been in the District? 10, 11, 12? No. You didn't. You have no idea what kind of people are leaving there. You live in the safety of the Capitol, and you have no idea how quickly these rats can start a civil war and rebellions. Did you forget what they did to us? How have we suffered? I lost my father, and my family went poor. I had to pretend that I was still a rich snob. Tgiris, my grandmother, and I starved more than once; they wanted to throw us out of the apartment. I had nothing but a meaningless name and family."
"You know, that was the time when you had everything. You had friends, family, and a girlfriend. My love and limitless devotion, respect, and admiration. Now what do you have left? Money? Power? Glory? Besides, people are not the same. They can be good, Coriolanus. The fact that you are too afraid to see or admit it is proof of how huge a coward you actually became." you say it disappointedly, dropping the cigarette to the floor and stomping on it.
"I am not..." he pauses as you look up at him, and your eyes meet. He thought that no one could silence him. But one look from you, full of resentment and sadness, makes him fall silent.
You make him feel weak. As if he was still that poor teenager who had to hide his family's terrible financial situation. Only now he's hiding the fact that your words are actually reaching him. That they actually hurt him.
He couldn't afford to have any weaknesses. He had to be strong, tough, and decisive. However, after one look at you, it was enough for him to begin to question everything he had learned under Dr. Gaul. To question everything he did after the fucking Hunger Games and Lucy Gray.
"Yes, you are. Everything you are doing and every bad decision you've made, you made out of fear. Fear of losing your life. Of losing your position. Of never coming back to the Capitol. You are a coward who desperately tries to play the brave man that matters in this world."
"You have no idea what it was like in the district! Or in the Hunger Games, when I had to get Sejanus out of there. You don't know what you would do in such a situation, so don't you dare stand there and judge me. Not when all I could think about in those days, what kept me away from absolute madness, was you." he says, desperately trying to present his actions to you as right, to make you understand his point of view and the reasons why he did all of these.
"Maybe not. Maybe I don't know what it's like. But I would never become the cause of the death of my best friend. You have his blood on your hands. I will never forgive you that." you notice him flinching at your words, but that's all you can see through the mask of indifference he suddenly decided to wear. But his eyes—his eyes and the emotions hidden in them—remind you so much of your Coryo.
"Do you think I have removed it from my memories? That his screams didn't haunt me in my dreams? That I simply forgot about him?"
"You are certainly on a good way to do it, Coriolanus." your soft whisper gives him goosebumps. You look at each other for a moment. When you realise he has nothing to say, you shake your head, laughing bitterly, mocking yourself for thinking for a moment that he really was more than just the cruel Gamemaker, and turn away.
You walk towards the exit, but suddenly you hear his quick footsteps behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist with one hand and holds your hands with the other, making sure you don't break away. He rests his forehead against the back of your head, inhaling your scent for a moment before whispering into your ear.
"Do you remember that place?" he asks, his nose stroking your cheek. "Our second date. Sejanus, let me take you to one of his parents' penthouses. They were supposed to be on vacation, but they came back earlier. We had to hide on the roof and wait since they would leave so we too could. We had a picnic here. I was holding you close to my chest, a little closer than I am doing now. It started to rain. I was furious because I wanted everything to be perfect for you, and as always, everything went terribly wrong. I wanted to look at the stars with you and run my hands through your hair while you fell asleep on my chest, cuddling up to me as if I were your teddy bear. I loved feeling the weight of you on me. In every circumstance. Anyway, we gathered everything and ran to your house. You let me into your room through the window. We took a hot shower together and..."
"And then happened the worst sex I've ever had." you interrupt him, trying to regain control of the situation. He only laughed at that, which made your heart skip a beat when, for the first time in so many months, you hear him laughing truly, not in a mocking, bitter, or fake way.
"The worst? Your moans and scratches on my back proved otherwise. Besides, considering it was the first time for both of us, I guess I did a good job. Your silky skin has haunted my dreams since that night. It never stopped. And judging by the way you are breathing right now, you also seem to think about that time fondly. We can do it again at my place tonight if you want. I am now in a much better position to truly make your nights unforgettable."
"I'd rather be bitten by one of Dr. Gaul's snakes, but thanks for the offer." you huff, getting out of his arms and pushing him away from you as you go to the exit of the Plinth's penthouse's roof.
"Don't tempt me. You know I can arrange it. Sucking the poison out of your delicate skin with my mouth is a really tempting alternative." he says, following you as you both return to the main hall.
"Disgusting pervert." you whisper over your shoulder so that only he can hear you in the crowd of elites and reporters who have gathered.
"Both of us, my darling. Both of us. But the point is..." he grabs your hand and helps you down the stairs as if he was a true gentleman. You would roll your eyes at this, but people have already noticed, you know, that you have hardened the mask of politeness on your face. "I remember everything. I am not losing my memory. I never will. Not about you. Not about us." he whispers, and you feel his blue eyes burning a hole into your temple with how intensely he stares at you.
"You must be mad to think that I will just go back to you. Besides, I don't have time for you. My voters are waiting for me."
He chuckles and gives you a mysterious, quizzical look that you can't read. But before you can analyse his stance, he pulls your hand to his mouth and places a gentle kiss on it. His full lips tease your skin, setting it alight with the reminder of all the times he's had the opportunity to do this.
He pulled away from you as quickly as he leaned into your hand. He smiles, giving you a view of his pearly teeth. How pleased the devil is...
"We shall see, my little petal." he whispers. Your old nickname he gave you one day is sounding as perfectly sweet as it used to, and you are not sure how much strength you have left in you to not let him melt your heart. Then he walks away from you, leaving you in the crowd of other people.
And you stand there, rooted to the floor, and all you can do is stare at the back of his head as you try to snap out of the feeling of his lips against your skin, trying not to dream of experiencing all of him again.
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A week later, you were returning from another party. You managed to sneak out a little earlier than usual without anyone noticing. Relieved, you got into the empty elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor. You leaned against the wall and sighed, rubbing your neck, where you wore a diamond necklace. Your momentary alone relief didn't last long.
As usual, you smelled him first. The faint hint of roses hit you as the man leaned against the wall of the elevator next to yours, giving you some space. You glanced at him casually. This time, he didn't have a rose on his vest. He was also much paler.
"The makeup artists chose the wrong powder for you." you say, not knowing why you even initiated a conversation with him.
"Was Thomas so tired that he couldn't stay with you until the end? Was he too scared to hold on to the precious diamond that had fallen into his hands like a grain to a blind hen until the end of the night?" he responds to your taunt. You frown at the hint of jealousy in his voice.
Coryo has always been possessive and unsure of your relationship and whether you might leave him one day for someone better. Therefore, any man's attention towards you caused... unpleasant feelings for him. He obviously still had this behaviour towards you. Even though you were no longer together.
"He has an exam. Anatomy or some other shit. But don't worry, he will definitely accompany me when the election results are announced."
"Seriously? Are you now going to show off with that little boy-toy?" he asks you furiously. You can feel how his cold blue eyes are piercing right through you.
"Livia Cardew?" you scoff as well, opening your eyes to glare at him with an equally disgusted look. "But you know what? Actually, I'm not surprised. The biggest whore in Capitol. After you, of course."
"You slept with that whore 374 times. Which makes you equally slutty, little petal." he says with a cheeky smirk. You huff, folding your arms as you look at him in disbelief.
"I can't believe you were pathetic enough to actually count this."
"You're lucky I've lost count of the number of orgasms you've had because of me."
"And you are disgusting." you shake your head, impatiently waiting for the elevator to go down to the ground floor so you can get far away from him. You try hard not to think about all the times you had… done this.
But he doesn't let you go that easily. He leans down and brushes your hair back to give him better access to your ear to whisper.
"And you crave me as much as I crave you, my darling."
"Do you think that just because you started donating to charity organisations, I will suddenly fall into your arms or into your bed? You think I don't know you're doing this as part of a campaign? To get more votes? Are you that stupid to think that I will fall for it and believe that you are trying to be a better man for me?" you ask him, angry and defensive, mocking him.
"I'm starting to doubt my ability to do anything you could approve of. But it's nice that you still care about me enough to be interested in what I do."
"You can give up your candidature for president if you want to see me happy." he laughs at your words, looking at you with a mischievous smirk.
"And make it so easy for you? No way, my darling. We both know that only the two of us have a real chance of winning. You should finally surrender and join me. We both know this is where we'll end up. I, with you by my side, just as it has always been."
"Not always. I remember very well the time when it was only you and your songbird." the elevator is on the second floor when he aggressively presses the stop button.
You try very hard to hide from him the fact that you feel insecure in this situation. In a small space, with him practically at your fingertips, you don't know if you can control yourself. So you try to remember all the disgusting crimes he committed.
"It was just a game. A show for the Capitol. You know I had to win. It didn't end the way I wanted, but you know perfectly well that I had to do it." he says, placing his hands gently on your shoulders as he tries his hardest to keep your eyes on him and you standing still in your place for the time he talks.
"I've already told you this. There is always another choice." you growl in his face, furious, refusing to give up.
"You wouldn't even talk to me if I still remained a nobody. You would have dumped me the moment it became known to all Panem that my family was poor and that Snow's name meant nothing. And marrying you would only be a distant dream of a madman."
"As if you had any chance now." you mock him with a laugh. You somehow push him away from you and press the start button. The elevator starts moving down again.
"I have your parents' blessing."
"And my disgust and resentment towards you."
There is silence between you for a moment. He stubbornly stares at your face, trying to read some emotion there, but you give him nothing but a blank stare at the door in front of you as you impatiently wait for it to open.
"What do you do when you win?" his question catches you off guard for a moment. You look at him in shock.
"What?"
"What do you do when you win? Bring an end to the Hunger Games? Try to get me killed? Why are you doing all of this?" he asks, standing directly in front of you. Your chests rub against each other with every breath you take. You lift your head slightly, staring at him defiantly.
"So YOU won't win." you finally reply, shuddering as he takes your hand gently in his and starts tracing patterns on it with his thumb.
He leans towards you so that you could rest your chin on his shoulder if you wanted to. You shiver, feeling the warmth of his body close to yours and feeling his lips gently brush against your earlobe.
"Snow lands on top." he whispers, hot air caressing your ear as he bites the lobe of it.
"Y/L/N takes everything." you whine, digging your nails into his neck. He gasps in surprise, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he presses you against the elevator wall with his body.
"Or nothing. But don't worry. When I win, there will be no one who can stop me from marring you."
"IF you win, then I will be gone. You will never find me. Just like your little songbird." you can see the fury in his eyes at the mere mention of her. His grip on you tightens.
"She is not mine. You are. Accept it and end this. You don't want to be president. I do. There is nothing more powerful than you and me, so and this damn kind of punishment for me and accept your place as my First Lady."
"Maybe I don't want this… but it will be so funny to watch you fail," you say, tilting your head and watching him closely as his nostrils flare with rage at your stubbornness. "Besides, I'd rather shoot myself in the head than be your wife."
"There was a time when you wanted it. When it was all we dreamed of. You and me. Together. Against the whole world."
"That's how it was. When I thought you were worth something more, when you were my top priority. I thought you wanted something more than money and power, but it looks like I never meant for you that much to be as important to you as you were to me. Or maybe I didn't know you at all." you say, no longer hiding the hurt in your voice, and you press the button on the damn elevator to get away from him.
You promised yourself that you wouldn't show him how much he hurt you or how much you missed him. But apparently he wanted to make sure he destroyed not only your Coryo but you as well.
You look away from him, ignoring the fact that he suddenly went quiet next to you. All he did was look at you. And you avoided his gaze, afraid that you would melt in front of him and that you would show him your heart again.
The elevator opens, and you sigh in relief. However, it doesn't last long. You tense up when you see reporters downstairs, waiting at the exit.
"Smile for the picture." you say, and drag him with you towards the exit.
You quickly let go of his arm as he obediently follows you, and you try to ignore the fact that his fingers lightly brush against your hand as if he wants to grab it. You move away from him gently and quickly walk past the reporters and paparazzi.
You quickly get into your car and nod to the driver to go. You lean back in your seat and sigh deeply, placing a hand over your racing heart. You can't help but glance at Coriolanus.
Thanks to your car's tinted windows, he can't see you. Still, he watches your car with his eyes, and for a small moment, you think that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't all rotten to the core. Maybe, in his twisted way, he still cares about you.
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The first round of elections was behind you. As you expected, Coriolanus and you achieved the greatest results. The game for the presidency of Panem has begun to be fought solely between you two.
And you were about to play the first dirty card against him. Clemensia nods at you as you head towards the podium and the microphone.
"Good evening, everyone. Thank you very much for all your votes and the trust you have placed in both me and my, well, rival after all." people chuckle gently, you find Coriolanus' curious gaze in the crowd. "I am convinced that, no matter who of us wins the upcoming elections, Panem will be in good hands anyway." You see a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes as he comes closer, moving freely through the crowd. The look in his blue eyes never leaves you for a minute. You would tremble, intimidated by his attention, if you didn't know, what would happen in a few minutes. "Without further ado, I would like to introduce someone who will certainly make this evening more pleasant. You have no idea how much I had to beg our star of the evening to agree to perform today. Ladies and gentlemen. At my ask and to your delight. The one and only Lucy Gray Baird!"
As you leave the stage, you glance at Coriolanus, seeing him staring at the woman with the guitar appearing on stage in shock and mild horror.
You stand further away from the crowd, on the other side of the room—as far away from Coriolanus as you can be—and watch him carefully, leaning against the wall.
You have to admit that Lucy Gray is stunningly beautiful. And the legend she has created around herself, her voice, and her skills only make her more perfect in the eyes of others.
You're not surprised that she charmed Coriolanus months ago and now. In fact, you expect Snow, too overcome with emotion upon meeting her again, to forget his façade and pursue her. With a bit of luck, maybe your people will be able to take compromising photos of him.
But you are surprised when, after watching her for a while, he shifts his gaze to the crowd of people, looking for something. You freeze when his eyes meet yours. You raise an eyebrow, not sure why, instead of staring at the girl, he stubbornly searches for your gaze. Or rather, you don't want to admit that you know the reason why, because that's exactly why you quickly leave the great hall of parliament and run away from the man who is now walking towards you.
And much to your misfortune, Coriolanus Snow learns from his mistakes. That's why you suddenly bump into someone a few metres from the exit at the end of the corridor leading to the elevator. You collide against a wall of toned muscles. His arms quickly wrap around you, keeping you from falling.
"Leaving so soon?" his whisper sent unwanted shivers down your spine, as did how close your face was to his.
"Get your hands off me." you snap at him and get out of his grip. You stare at the elevator, contemplating how to get past him and get in, but he sees your intentions in your eyes and blocks any escape route with his body.
"What game are you playing?" he asks, staring at you. You lift your head, returning his defiant glare. "I don't even care how the hell you found her. Why is she here? What do you need her for?"
"Shouldn't you try to catch your little songbird before she flies away again?" you mock, ignoring all of the questions he asked you.
"I am." he says, staring firmly at you, making you more confused by his actions than before. He should have been after Lucy Gray… why the hell was he keeping you pinned to the wall, blocking your only escape route with his body?
"What?"
"I am not letting you run away. We are solving this here and now." he says this, looking around the hall. You take advantage of his moment of inattention and try to free yourself from his strong grip, but he doesn't move even an inch in your struggle. Fuck his peacekeeper training.
"We have nothing to solve, get it into your stupid head!" you shout at him in frustration, unable to get out of his arms.
"You know what your main problem is? You don't allow yourself the idea that you might be wrong or that you don't know everything about me. I may be a monster, but I've never lied to you. About anything. Lucy Gray and I had nothing when you were with me. Whoever gave you these stupid rumours was lying. Ask her. She'll tell you that the only thing I did was kiss her. When I was drunk in District 12, exactly the day after I got there. And do you know why? Because I was convinced I had fucked up my life and I would never see your damn face again. And fuck, even kissing her couldn't get you out of my mind. All I thought was you. All I think about is you. I can admit it out loud. How about you?"
"I despise you." you growl angrily, struggling in his arms.
"Yes? Then why did you frame Livia for engagement to Festus? You think I don't know it's because of you that they were caught fucking in the garden together?"
"I wanted to discredit you. Show that your girlfriend is sleeping with anyone on the side. Besides, you made Thomas fail at university, and he had to retake his exams today, which is why he couldn't show up. I had to take revenge."
"No. You were jealous of me. You wanted to get rid of her and you did. Why are you playing the gardener dog? Why don't you just admit that you want me?" you roll your eyes at him, trying your hardest to hold on to your internal irritation and fury at him. But it was a very demanding task, considering how his mesmerising icy-blue eyes were now watching you very carefully.
"I don't want you." you say, trying to sound firm but also a little indifferent, enough for him to believe you. But you can see by the way his eyebrow raises that you've screwed up something.
"Yes? Then kiss me." his sudden command leaves you extremely stunned. You almost lose the fight with yourself to keep your jaw from opening from shock.
"What?"
"If you despise me, if you don't care about me, then you will have no problem with kissing me and walking away like nothing had happened." he explains, moving closer to you, your noses brushing against each other, you feel his breath brush against your lips, and the warmth of his mouth is so close that it makes you feel as if you could actually touch him.
"Let me go. I'm not going to make a fool of myself for your own amusement. Those days are gone forever; we are not a couple, and we will never be together again. Get over it!"
"Then kiss me. C'mon. Prove your point. Kiss me as if you hate me. As if you despise every little part of me just as much as you claim. Prove that you have absolutely no feelings towards me despite hatred and grudges."
And God, you want it. You want it so much that it hurts you not to be able to press your lips to his right here and now.
You know that the moment your lips meet his, all your cold demeanour towards him will melt away like snow in spring. You know that you will easily return to his arms, giving yourself to him and proving nothing in your favor. And you've come so far—too far—to let him see past your facade now, to let him make you want him even more than you already do.
You shiver as he leans in so that his nose brushes yours as he gently cups your cheeks in his hands. He doesn't make the first move. Of course not. This cunning snake tempts you to give in to your greatest, darkest desires, which you feel ashamed of for having managed to survive in the recesses of your heart.
"End this torment. For both of us sake."
Just a gentle touch, you think, hearing his whisper and feeling his body softly press against yours, complementing you perfectly as always. One taste of his lips. Just one...
Your heart beats fast, and your breaths are mingling in the small space still left between you two. With a trembling hand, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. His fucking eyes are all you can look at, the unspoken request shining so brightly in them that you can't mistake his desire for anything else. And you give in, tilting your head to place your lips so close to him...
A loud bang makes you both pull away from each other. A drunk senator staggers towards the elevator, nodding at the two of you. He mumbles something under his breath, and after a quick glance towards Coriolanus and a nod of his head, you decide that he will walk him away and make sure he doesn't tell (or remember) how outrageously close the two of you were just moments ago.
You walk back to the party, trying to calm down enough to let the blush fade from your cheeks.
You make sure that Clem sends Lucy to her hiding place after her performance, and you continue to politely smile and pose for photos, promoting your allegiance.
And the next day, when you are reading the morning newspaper, you notice in one of the photos that this bastard put a rose behind your ear.
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It was raining heavily.
It was late at night as you were preparing for your speech the next day. You walked around your room with a piece of paper in your hand, gesturing and practicing proper intonation and posture.
“Miss Y/L/N?” you stop when you hear the voice of one of your maids. "We have… an unusual situation."
"What? Did something happen?" you ask, confused at her uncertain tone of voice.
"It depends on how you interpret the situation, miss." you raise an eyebrow at her questioningly. She points to the window. You frown in surprise, but walk over to the window anyway.
"What the bloody hell is he doing here?" you whisper, seeing Coriolanus standing in your garden. He was completely soaked. His hair and coat were soaked with water, clinging to him as he stared at your window, standing still as the rain hit him.
"David says he's been there for several hours. He tried to talk to him and get him to leave, but Mr. Snow… just stands there."
Your first instinct would be to close the curtains and pretend he wasn't there, but you didn't want to think about the scandal that would start if anyone found out that your rival was standing outside your window in the full rain like some lovesick puppy. It was obvious he had to be here for a reason. It was probably some dirty play on his part. Something that was intended to negatively impact your candidature.
But then you looked at him. Even when you showed up, his gaze was... disturbingly empty. He couldn't fake it that well. It was not like he could completely hide his reaction to seeing you.
"Does anyone else know about this?" she shakes her head, and you sigh. You have no idea why he's standing outside your window in the heavy rain. You're just thanking fate for him choosing the day your parents left the Capitol to behave so strangely. You just hoped no meddlesome paparazzi saw him. "All right. Make sure it stays that way." you ask her and walk out of your room.
Walking downstairs to get to your coat and umbrella, you wonder why the hell he's standing outside in front of your mansion, staring at your window, risking getting sick with all the rain pouring down on him furiously.
It has happened before that he was standing under your window. Before this whole Hunger Games thing started, Dr. Gaul and Lucy Gray he would often sneak up to you through your window to talk about what was bothering him.
But that was a long time ago. And now you had no idea what he was doing out there and in all this rain.
You wrap your coat around yourself and take an umbrella as you go outside. The rain somehow seeps through your shields, hitting you unpleasantly. Water droplets start to soak into your clothes. You wonder how he stayed there for so many hours.
"What the hell are you doing here? Are you crazy?! Is this another one of your sick tricks against me?!" you shout, walking towards him. But he doesn't answer. His eyes are locked on you as he stands there, motionless. You notice that his eyes are bloodshot from crying, and his hands are shaking slightly, as well as all of his body. You don't know if it's from the cold or from crying. "Coriolanus?" you ask, starting to seriously worry about him.
He trembles even more, not looking at you. He fixes his gaze on your shoes. What worries you is that he is completely oblivious to the rain pouring down on him. As if he didn't feel anything at all anymore.
“Alright, come on.” you say, pulling him by the arm towards your mansion. You hide him a bit under the umbrella, but it doesn't change the fact that he's soaked like a dog. Maybe even worse.
His silence, the lack of any emotion on his face, worries you. You haven't seen him like this before. So… empty.
You enter the house through the back entrance. You put the umbrella down and turn towards him. Seeing that he's still not reacting to any stimuli and acting like he's on some kind of autopilot, you walk up to him and start unbuttoning his coat.
He doesn't comment on your behavior. Neither do you say anything. You just want to get him out of all those wet clothes so he won't get seriously sick... You have no idea why you worry or why you care. Maybe you are on some kind of autopilot too.
As you lead him to your room, you are involuntarily reminded of all the times he snuck there with you. When you were still the closest people to each other in this world. When you came to each other for comfort. When you were each other's only shelter.
"I should still have some of your old clothes here. You should go change and take a warm bath. There's no way you wouldn't get sick after this." you say, walking over to your clothes chest and looking for some of his old shirts and pants.
"Grandma'am is dead." he says it in an empty, emotionless tone of voice. You freeze in shock and slowly turn to face him. He still stands where you left him, his gaze blankly fixed on the space next to you.
You don't say anything. You don't know what to tell him anyway. You just stare at him, waiting for him to say something more. It bothers you how he just… doesn't do anything. Acting as if all that was left of him was an outer shell, a facade that barely held together.
You walk up to him and take his cold hand hesitantly into yours. You stare at them for a moment and look up, meeting his icy, bloodshot eyes.
"I... I am so sorry, Coriolanus." his bitter laugh at your words might be a good sign after his disturbing behaviour earlier, but somehow it worries you even more than his silent attitude and blank stare.
''You will never forgive me, will you? You will always see me only as a monster? As a murder and nothing more?" he asks, hearing that you still call him by his name, even at a time like this. The version he hated, instead of the sweet nickname he hadn't heard in a long time. Which even Tigris stopped using.
"Thta's not..." you start, concerned at the calm tone in which he says it. As if the truth of what was happening between you was starting to dawn on him.
"This is exactly what I am to you! A heartless monster! But you know what?! I AM NOT! And you... you are a hypocrite." he starts getting angry and pushes your hands away from him as he paces around your room.
"Me?!" you scream at him, disbelieving. You step in front of him, blocking his path and forcing him to face you.
"YES! You! You may not be a murderer, but you do something much worse. Your indifference, your hatred, and your aversion towards me—do you think it doesn't do anything to me? You've been killing me and hurting me day after day since I left the fucking Capitol and was sentenced to exile. And since I came back, your face, your voice, and your memories haunt me more than ever before. Missing you is killing me. Watching you from afar is killing me. Not being able to hold you in my arms is killing me. You said you could confidently say you're not a murderer. I do not agree. You kill me every day, and each time in a more cruel way. But all I can do is follow you like some faithful puppy, waiting for you to change your mind and give me a chance to show you that I'm not lost, that I'm not a monster, and that I didn't WANT any of this to happen! I spend every sleepless night, when I can't pass out in bed due to exhaustion and lack of sleep, thinking about you! And even now... when my life is falling apart around me, all I can do is... come to you. Just like I've always done."
He's shaking with emotion, and you think you've never seen him so moved or so shaken before. You wonder if he might have gotten drunk, but those thoughts quickly leave you when he suddenly leans down and wraps you in his arms. He buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent as he continues to shiver. His wet clothes start to soak yours, but all you feel is his breath on the skin of your neck.
"I miss you so much, petal…" he whispers, and you stroke his wet hair, unable to tell if it's his tears soaking the collar of your shirt or his wet clothes or skin from rain. In fact, it doesn't really matter to you at all right now.
"Why did you come here? Of all places…"
"And where else could I go?" he interrupts you, his eyes looking at you so… pleadingly. As if there really was no other place on earth he could go in such a situation, where he could wallow in his grief and despair.
"I don't know… to Livia or…" he cuts you off before you can finish your sentence. He tangles his hand in your hair and pulls you in for a kiss. His lips are terribly cool against yours, but it only enhances how amazing you feel as he caresses your lips tenderly with his. 
He slowly steals the warmth from you, which you're strangely happy about while he's deepening the kiss. You press yourself against him, slowly warming him up, his wet clothes uncomfortably transferring their wetness to yours, which you ignore in favour of kissing him. Just like the drops of cold water dripping from his hair onto your forehead, which doesn't sober you up and doesn't make you move away from him. If anything, you place your hand around his neck and pull him closer.
Eventually, though, you both have to pull away, gasping for air. You both take shaky breaths, his forehead resting against yours, as your senses slowly begin to come back to you. But you're secretly glad that his hands don't leave you as he uses the pad of his thumb to stroke your cheek, your lips, your cheekbone, anywhere he has a chance to touch you, as long as he doesn't take his hand away from your face.
"Only you saw me in my fragile form. Only you saw my shattered heart and the shell of myself. I... only allow myself to be vulnerable with you." he whispers with his eyes closed, keeping his forehead pressed against yours, trying his best to hold on to you as if you were his only anchor.
"Being sad, mad, or vulnerable doesn't mean being weak. Don't be ashamed of having emotions. I... all I ever wanted... was for you to... to be something more than all of these people in the Capitol. To be someone more than what Dr. Gaul tried to mould you into. You are a good man, Coryo. Please show me that you can still be that man. That my friend and lover is still there."
You don't talk to each other anymore after that. You don't know whether he has heard your request or is even considering granting it. All you know is that you lost that night. That the rational part of you had gone to fuck itself, seeing him so vulnerable and hurt, just as you were.
So, when he tries to break away from you and walk away, you grab his wrist tightly, stopping him.
"Stay. Don't go." you whisper. You don't know if it's a request or an order. He doesn't think twice about it either, turning back to you after a moment and pulling you into his chest as he holds you tightly in his arms and buries his face in your hair.
And he stays. You manage to get him to take a hot shower and some medicine in case he catches a cold.
This night, you fell asleep in each other's arms. Every now and then you stop stroking his hair, his back, and drawing patterns on his chest to use the pad of your thumb to gently wipe away the tears that sometimes fall from his gorgeous blue eyes.
And in the morning, when all that remains from him is a scent of him, of his cologne, and a dent on the pillow, you can't help but feel disappointed and silently hope that maybe your Coryo is still alive.
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You haven't had a chance to be alone with him since then. You both are too busy running your campaign and the ongoing rivalry between you two.
However, you notice that he has stopped sending gifts, late-night phone calls, or other ways of getting your attention. Whatever relationship you had was purely political. You didn't know whether to be happy or cry.
Tigris stopped talking about him. You don't know if it's a good change, but she doesn't mention her cousin anymore. She was quieter after her grandmother died. The black clung to her wardrobe and skin, highlighting her paler than usual complexion.
It was the evening they were supposed to announce the election results.
You took the elevator to the top floor of the Snow apartment, picking up Tigris and Clem on the way and heading to your house to either celebrate your success or failure.
You sigh tiredly, leaning against the elevator behind you. You close your eyes and listen as it moves up to the next floor.
You open your eyes when you hear a soft, buzzing sound. Things have changed a bit since you were last here. The interior was, of course, renovated and more elegant, but somehow... more emptier.
You try to shake off the feeling as you go further.
"Tigris?! I'm here!" you shout as you enter the living room.
You look around curiously, waiting for the blonde. You walk over to the bookshelf, looking through its contents. You choose one of the books and sit on the couch, but before you open it, you notice a framed photo on the coffee table.
You take the frame in your hands and look at an old photo of you and Coryo at the end of one year at the Academy. You cup your hand around his cheek, pulling him closer to you as you press a kiss on his cheek.
You smile as you remember the circumstances of taking this photo.
Sejanus found an old camera among his father's belongings. He insisted on taking photos to celebrate the end of a difficult year of study for all of you. You didn't know that Sejan developed the photos and gave them to Coriolanus.
And you certainly didn't expect him to keep them.
“I'm afraid Tigris is not here.” you place the photo on the coffee table and slowly turn towards Coriolanus. His hair is not combed with gel; it is slightly messy, and he has those adorable, damn curls on his head again. "She left a few minutes ago. You must have passed each other."
"Oh. She probably went to Clem's." you say, standing there slightly awkwardly and looking at him. He's wearing a black shirt and pants. Slightly wrinkled for your taste and definitely too wrinkled for his. "Are you alone?" you ask, unable to stop yourself.
"I am." he says, putting his hands in his pockets, walking around the couch so that he's now standing next to you, and picking up the book you were planning to read before Tigris came downstairs. "I guess your Thomas is waiting for you at your home."
"We... kind of broke up. Well, we weren't together, but… our paths diverged." you admit, taking the opportunity to have his back turned to you as he walked over to put the book back on the shelf. You can see his shoulders tense slightly. You've never wanted to run your hands down his muscular back more.
"What a pity. Right when I remembered his name…" he murmured. You take a few steps towards him, the click of your high heels echoing throughout the empty apartment.
"You always knew it, you were just too offended and angry to use it." he chuckles at your words and turns to face you, leaning his back gently against the bookshelf.
"Maybe." he hums, nodding his head, his eyes studying you intently.
"Maybe." you repeat after him, warmth rising in your chest as you see a stray strand of his hair fall onto his forehead.
"You should go back. I believe they will announce the results soon." he moves past you to grab the photo from the coffee table and places it on the chest of drawers next to the chair next to the bookcase. In the meantime, he turned on the TV, and he was right—they were going to report the results soon.
"What will you do if… you don't win?" you ask him, and he freezes for a moment. He sets things on the shelf, trying to arrange everything perfectly as he ponders his answer. You are getting a little nervous since you can't see his eyes or facial expression.
"I'll think of something for myself. Don't be happy. You won't be able to dance over my grave for a long time." you snort, shaking your head in amusement at his answer.
"I believe that in this case, it will be you who will be dancing at my funeral. And quite quickly."
"Stop it. You know damn well that I would never hurt you." he snaps at your answer as he turns to face you. You have been taken aback by his sudden reaction, but your defense system quickly kicked in.
"Sejanus..."
"I regret it every fucking day. Every day I wake up in the morning and don't see you on the other side of my bed. Every day I spend time surrounded by people I can't trust. Every day when I see Tigris' betrayed look and your disappointed, hurt gaze, it haunts my dreams as much as his screams. And maybe I'm a monster because I really don't care if he lives or dies, but I REGRET IT. Honestly. By you. Because of you. Because I lost you. I... I had lost you." he whispers the last sentence, as if it's only now dawning on him what really happened. It breaks your heart to see him like this, especially after what happened a few weeks ago.
"Coriolanus..." you say this and reach out to grab his arm, but this time he's the one pulling away from you. And the treatment you've gotten from him, just the same as you've once treated him, is tasting bitter.
"Just leave." he says, his eyes averting from you as he stares at the window overlooking the Capitol.
You walk up to him and place your hand on his shoulder. He turns his gaze away from the city in front of him and looks at you questioningly, not understanding what you are doing right now.
'Coriolanus... I..."
"And the president of Panem becomes… Y/N Y/L/N! Congratulations, Madam President!" the hosts' shouts and fanfare echo from the television, interrupting you. It takes you a while to realise what happened. Your hand falls from his shoulder as you stare dazedly at the TV behind him. You won. You became president.
Realisation hits you. You have no idea what will happen next. And... you're afraid. But not that you can't handle it. Not that you'll have a lot of new responsibilities, or even how many people you'll have to deal with from now on. NO. You are afraid that HE will never be close to you again. And the last few weeks... the last few weeks, maybe even months—had shown you that you couldn't live without him next to you anymore.
You needed Coriolanus Snow… as much as he needed you.
"Congratulations." his words snap you out of your shock and numbness. He sticks out his hand, waiting for you to take it and shake it. But you can only stand there, staring at him as you try to sort out your feelings. "You won't even shake my hand? Am I not worth even that, Madam President?"
You shake your head.
You hear him snort, laughing bitterly at your action, believing this is another example of your stubborn behaviour towards him. He drops his hand, obviously hurt, and is about to respond when you suddenly take a step towards him, cup his cheeks in your hands, and pull him in for a kiss.
He is surprised. Probably the same as you, but he gets over it rather quickly as he automatically responds to your kiss, caressing your lips with his as fervently as ever.
At some point, you end up on his couch, your hands moving from his neck to under his shirt. Your touch breaks him out of the trance you put him in. He takes your hands in his and moves them away from his body.
"I don't want your pity." he huffs, pulling away from you as he stands in front of the couch. You pull him towards you by his shirt so that he's straddling you, and you kiss him again, effectively silencing him as your hands land on the buttons of his shirt.
"You've never had it." you mumble between kisses, trailing your fingers over the bare skin and muscles of his back, and he moans softly into your neck, leaving a few hickeys there along his way to the buttoms of your own blouse. "It was always either my love or grudge."
"And now?" he asks, moving away from you again. His blue eyes stare intently into yours, and you know your answer depends on how this evening goes. And you missed the comforting feeling of his skin against yours too much to worry about his morality, of which you were apparently the sole soul that wanted and was able to take care of.
"Both of them." you reply, licking your lips. Maybe he was right from the beginning? Maybe you were destined to end up together? Maybe you were really the only thing that could keep him on the right path? But were you willing to devote your life to keeping him in check?
"I can work with that." you moan as he kisses you while lifting you off the couch. Your blouse falls somewhere on the floor as he carries you along the familiar path to his bedroom.
His lips caress yours gently like never before. His hands are practically everywhere, gently stroking every bit of your exposed skin. He pins you against his bedroom door and sucks on your neck, leaving a hickey. You moan again, causing the same reaction from him.
"Please, don't ever leave me again." he whispers into your mouth before trying to devour you again.
"Then don't give me a reason to do it." you whisper back, combing his hair as he pulls away from you enough to open the door. He kisses you all the way to his bed, stroking your waist gently.
He lays you down on the bed, his mouth moving to your neck, licking and sucking, leaving a few marks there as his hands moved down to the button of your pants.
"Wait. Wait." he listens to you immediately. He freezes, lifting his head to look at you with concern and a worried expression on his face. "You're not mad that I won?" he gives you such a beautiful smile and laugh that, for a moment, all you can do is watch him.
He was so ethereal... breathtaking in every sense of this word. You have no idea how you managed to stay away from him for that long... even knowing what he did.
"I love you. I have always loved you and always will. I'll get over the fact that you won't be my First Lady."
"Well... you can be my First Lord... or something like that..." he laughs at that and leans in to kiss you. You cup his cheeks in your hands and pull him closer to you. You moan into his mouth as his bare skin touches yours.
You whine in protest as he pulls away from you. He looks deep into your eyes and caresses your cheek tenderly with his hand.
"You sure?" you smile slightly and nod, placing your hands on his shoulders as he pulls you closer to him again. "We shall create a dynasty, my beautiful little petal." he promises you, placing soft kisses on your collarbones. You run your hands through his blond locks, pulling his head and lips to yours. "My most precious diamond." he plants another kiss, this time on the corners of your mouth, undoing your bra. "Mine."
"Coryo..." you moan, and he responds in kind, happy to finally hear his nickname falling lovingly from your lips like it used to.
You don't care what happens next. What will happen the next day? What will happen when you take over as president? Will he try to gain more influence than you? Will he continue working for Gaul? Or maybe you will unite your forces and create a presidential couple that Panem has never seen before. You do not know. All he cares about is his touch, his mouth, and his body against you.
And in the morning, when you wake up wrapped in his arms as he places kisses on your temple and tenderly, lazily draws patterns on your back with his fingers, you realise how good it was to be back where you belonged.
You realise how good it felt to wake up in your Coryo's arms again. Even if neither of you were the same person you once were. And you will certainly have more than one fight, dramatic breakup or silent fight for influence and power.
But after all, love was stronger than any grudge you could feel towards your Coryo... or at least as long as he still was him.
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notyourhetloki · 1 year
Note
From prompt list “I’m going to ruin you” after Ken has learned about bodily anatomy after his venture into the real world and he says this to fem reader (or gn if you prefer!), and decides it’s finally time to get your attention off that other Ken once and for all (which, of course, the reader has never cared about that “other Ken” anyway)
feel good (Ken x Reader)
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Reader: gender neutral
/NSFW Ken x Doll!Reader/
A/N: Heey! Thanks for requesting! THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN like... you're a genius. Hope you like it! Prompt list mentioned: here's the link
Warnings: very smutty, dolls have genitals in this one, reader is implied to have a vagina but I don't describe it much (it's still gn!), possessive Ken, maybe a bit ooc, reader's virginity is mentioned.
Word Count: 1.1k
In his venture into the Real World, Ken learned very interesting things like the patriarchy, horses, and most importantly... sex.
See, the dolls in Barbieland knew they had genitals but it was never something they actually used often (if ever). They knew the basics of human anatomy but... nothing as throughout as what Ken had discovered.
Magazines, books, even videos of sex were readily available, all accessible to a very naive Ken who let everything get to his head.
Arriving home to Barbieland, Ken began getting these thoughts... if sex was so good after all, why not try it with you, the person he loved the most? The thoughts were pure enough at the beginning, but it all went to shit when he saw you...
Sitting next to Simu!Ken, you were laughing and chatting along. You both seemed to be having fun and Ken hated that, a gut-wrenching sensation of pure jealousy taking over his entire body.
Without thinking, Ken immediately walked over to you, grabbing you by the wrist and waving a sarcastic goodbye to the other Ken. You were surprised, but happy nonetheless. "Ken! You're back! I'm so happy you returned, love... But where are you taking me?"
He didn't answer, only marching towards your house until you were in your living room. Ken released the grip on your wrist and turned to face you.
He looked... different. He had a stern but mischievous look on his face, his pupils blown out making his baby blue eyes look darker, hair messy... He looked feral. "Ken..."
"I'm going to ruin you..." He whispered, taken by a mixture of jealousy and arousal. You looked so good... and you were his.
You didn't know what to make of his statement, feeling heat run through your body as he looked at you like a meal... he had never looked at you like that before.
"Sit down." Ken calmly said, and you promptly obliged. Sat on the sofa, he held your chin up so you looked at him as he said: "I'm going to make you feel so good... I promise."
Then, he kneeled. Moving his hands to your waistband, he looked up asking for permission and you agreed (even if a little confused).
Ken took your pants off, removing your underwear with it. You gasped a bit, not expecting any of it. His hands grazed on your thighs, opening them up so he could get a good look at you.
"Don't be shy, (Y/N)... you're so beautiful." Ken said before diving in between your legs, kissing your inner thighs, making you shiver. "K-Ken... what are-" Suddenly, you were cut out by a wave of pleasure that dominated your chore. He was kissing you... down there. And you didn't know why it felt this good.
Ken continued kissing, licking, and sucking... It was obviously his first time but he was doing his best, and he knew exactly where your most sensitive spot was... not neglecting it for a moment.
Sounds were coming out of your mouth and you honestly couldn't care about neighbors, moaning loudly when Ken hit that sweet spot... you felt out of orbit, taken completely by pleasure.
Tightness began building in your belly, like a bomb ready to explode, you were scared but nothing could take you out of this moment. "Ken, p-please... don't stop..."
And he didn't, working fiercely to make you orgasm... he wanted to taste you in his mouth, to be the first one to make you cum.
As you felt his lips and tongue moving, the tightness suddenly released. Waves of pleasure washed over you while you moaned his name. You felt dumb with the feeling, overwhelmed by so many sensations all at once.
Ken got up with a smile, feeling real proud of himself "See? I told you I would make you feel good! Now... it's my turn."
He took his pants off in one single swift motion, revealing his hard cock to you. Damn, he was hot... and you wanted to pleasure him too. "Ken... I-I want to learn how to make you feel good as well..."
His eyes grew wide, taken aback by your sudden confession (yes he was still insecure about you, even though you had just let him eat you out lol). "Oh, doll..." Ken softly said before kissing you, tender but slightly possessive... he was desperate at that point.
After the kiss, he carefully positioned you to kneel on the couch with your back facing him, legs spread slightly apart enough so he could slot himself in between. Ken massaged your back while teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock.
After you gave him consent, he slowly got inside you, careful to not hurt. It was quite off rhythm at first, Ken groaned while feeling so overwhelmed with you around him. But as soon as you both got comfortable... things escalated.
Ken fucked you quickly like an animal, completely desperate and needy. He was inside you, the first to ever be inside you! He felt possessive, moaning and groaning as he grabbed on your thighs and waist, pulling lightly on your hair as he cried into your ear: "You're mine, you're mine..."
"Ah, Ken! Ah..." You whined as his pace quickened even more, his dick inside you so deep hitting sweet spots you didn't even know you had, stretching you oh so deliciously.
"Yes! Please! Hmm... so good!" You hummed in approval, and the more praise you gave, the messier it got. Ken seemed to get off on your words, rolling his hips into you harder the more you spoke and driving you crazy. Eventually, you started moving your own hips to meet his thrusts, and that sight... he began getting erratic just from looking at you.
Not long after, Ken cummed inside you. Head tilted back, moaning your name and holding your waist for dear life. He never imagined it could be this good.
Plastic hearts racing, you both hugged each other as you laid on the sofa. Ken had his head on your chest, resting as he regained composure. "See? You're mine now..." He said between breaths.
"But, Ken... I've always been yours." You reassured him, running your fingers through his blonde hair. "You're the only one for me."
He turned his face upwards to look at you with teary eyes, admiring your face before reaching and kissing you desperately. Tears ran down his face as he kissed you, and you wiped them clean with your hands.
After Ken calmed down, you two sat side by side on the couch while you wondered: "What was that, by the way? The... the things you did, the way it made me feel..."
"Oh... yeah, there are a lot of things I'd like to show you! Things I learned in the Real World... that was one of them." Ken grinned while holding your hand, soothing you before continuing: "I've never done anything like it before, either... but I wanted to try it with you."
You couldn't help but smile, squeezing his hands while being so happy he trusted you like that. "Well, I'm glad that I'm yours, then..."
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sky-is-the-limit · 11 months
Text
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'I make guarantees.'
Phillip Graves x F!Reader
Summary: As a member of the TF141, it comes naturally to be aggravated by Phillip Graves. Pair that with every fiber of your body, mind and soul desiring him, and you have a ticking bomb ready to explode. Basically, porn without plot.
CW: Angry sex, jealousy, possessiveness, degradation, violent/explicit language, mention of blood (minor), unprotected sex.
WC: 4,712 words (oops)
Notes: I'm not a writer!
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Phillip Graves was no ordinary man. He was the sort to blaze through your soul like a wildfire, allow you to feel the kind of passion and intensity you only find between the lines of a fantasy tale and then leave ashes behind, forever engraved in your skin.
As if sensing his gaze, you turned to look at Phillip. You only spared him a passing glance though, smirking just before turning back to laugh at a joke Johnny told, too crest for the other man's tastes.
This was the second mission where you had to collaborate with the Shadow Company for a more effective outcome, meaning you had to be in his overwhelming presence once more. Someone outside watching in would think that you hated each other, whenever you'd interact. You always tested his limits, toed every line that you could cross with every action, with every takedown.
Perhaps you did, deep inside. Hated him for igniting feelings in you so intense that would only resonate to you either banging your head against a wall or let him fuck you against one.
Phillip showed his interest straight away, from the very first interaction the two of you had during your first mission, his arrogance and cockiness oozing out of him as though he had no ordinary blood running through his veins. Pair that with the way he was talking to Johnny, the closest squad member to you, you had to turn down his advances, which unsurprisingly, hurt his fragile ego and ever since, all remarks exchanged between the two of you were like bullets destined to kill.
Once more, you found yourself in the common area of your temporary base, left alone to face him. Your leisure time of listening to Soap's silly dad jokes and good conversation over coffee was cut short when Phillip walked in.
Johnny did not have the patience to ignore him and his snarky comments that he had to physically get away from him, and you did not blame him one bit. Was it your pride or something else forbidding you from exiting right after?
''It's pathetic really.'' His posture was starker than usual, his eyebrows furrowed, his lips tight as he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Though you had your back turned on him, you could feel his gaze devouring you whole.
The abruptness startled you, but keeping your composure, you set your coffee down on the table and turned to look at him.
''Your entire existence? I know.'' The words came out in a furious rush and you felt a bead of sweat drip down your back under your black shirt. It was a nasty habit, at that point. You couldn't even finish one argument without starting another and the one brewing was the second one that day.
''How you flirt with him to get my attention, Y/N.'' Phillip's voice was low and irritated, and it set your emotions ablaze, a roaring inferno within your mind. 
“Of course, because it's always about you. I definitely talk to my squad member specifically to get your attention, silly me.'' The minute he walked in, you prepared yourself for this. It would be abnormal for an interaction between the two of you to not turn into an argument.
''He's so boringly predictable that I caught you looking at me at least 50 times. Go on though, I do enjoy the show.'' Arrogance was dripping off his tongue like second nature, along with that all familiar smirk that made your insides hurt.
''Don't you ever get tired of hearing your own voice, Graves? Or do you get off of ticking every box in the 'how to be a perfect narcissist' list?'' You shrieked, hating the way your voice came out your throat but the way in which he threw his shoulders back and laughed in a cruel tone made you see red.
Suddenly he was much closer, leering down at you. It wasn't clear to know who moved first, or who would next.
''Me? A narcissist? You're the one who wants every man's attention on you.'' He growled lowly and stood to full height, his demeanor making you swallow thickly as he loomed closer and stared you down. Out of habit you straightened your spine, lips curling back into a scowl.
''Shut your fucking mouth, Graves-" The blood running through your veins was pumping hot, you wanted to pour it out and paint everything around you red, so it matched the fury riding you with every word he threw in your way. Phillip's response didn’t ease you any.
''Is that what you did to earn your spot hm? Fuck your way to the top?'' His tone dripped with scorn as he responded to you, his words carrying an edge sharper than a sword.
''Say that again, Graves. I fucking dare you.'' Spitting the words with teeth bared, and fists clenched as you circled each other, you poked at his chest firmly, the muscles twitching beneath your fingertips.
Your gaze met his with stubborn defiance, nearly ready to just explode and punch him. Maybe that would make you feel better, knocking some sense into his enormous ego.
There was nothing you despised more than another man undermining your career and progress, belittling you as if you were not greater than all of them combined when holding a sniper riffle in your hands.
What made it worse, was that you knew Graves was doing that to get a reaction out of you, to push your buttons without meaning a single word pouring out of his mouth. It was a facade, you knew that. The first thing he ever said to you, was to compliment your skills, which made his intention even more infuriating.
''You could try that with the Shadow Company next, I promise to give you a higher rank if you use that mouth-'' It was as though your hand had a brain of it's own, moving automatically with force to meet with his cheek and the corner of his mouth, leaving the tender skin red to the touch and the corner of his bottom lip reddening with drops of blood.
''Is that all you got?'' He mocked, his voice gravelly as his fingers wrapped around your wrist tightly, preventing you from moving an inch. Your anger dissipated in the favor of fear the very second you saw his expression.
You were volatile and explosive, but that's how you craved it, and even then, your desire to be fucked by him had trumped all your wrath, in fact, your rage had just heightened it. It was pure madness and the was no rational explanation to it nor that you cared to find one.
Glowering, hands itching to hit him once more, you turned on your heel, aiming for the door and intending to get black-out drunk with Simon as you assumed that he was downing his fifth beer by then, when he grabbed you by the back of your neck and hauled you against him.
You struggled, clawing and scratching his arms as they banded around you and held you trapped. He was chuckling in your ear, you could feel how turned on he was, and your inner voice was crooning that you got just what you wanted, but you ignored it. You wanted to fight yet your body had something entirely different in mind while a flow of slick started to soak up your panties as Graves pressed his manhood into you.
''You fucking-'' The thoughts running wild through your mind interrupted your own words, the ebb and flow of your gazes intensifying by the second though it felt like an eternity of his blue eyes piercing through your soul like he could sense every filthy fantasy hiding behind them. You didn't dare to move and in the end, you didn't have to.
You were both breathing heavily, tension wrought to the extreme as you were staring at each other, not really fathoming how you ended up like this. It was pure excitement, trepidation, like you were desperately waiting for something to happen.
This was the culmination of whatever instinctive, subconscious game the two of you had been playing from the very first mission you'd embarked on collaborating with him, a game of push and push between the two of you until the breaking point.
Graves pushed forward, his lips brutally meeting your own. He bit down on them, hard and cruel, loving the cry you whimpered out as he savored you whole. His hand moved from the side of your head to the back of it, tugging the hair there to tilt your head to his.
The agony was a pleasure as you reciprocated his intoxicating kiss, angry and violent as you teared at his lips. Your sharp teeth aggravated the wound on his lip, and you tasted blood on your tongue.
''Fucking brat-'' He instantly pulled back, his fingers grasping your jaw to keep you in place.
You shivered at his words, a new heat blooming over every surface of your body. Your cheeks tingled and you squirmed in his grip, squeezing your thighs together as you calculated your next move carefully.
"You're such a bastard!" You quirked your head as you breathlessly yelped, almost fearlessly before sliding your arms free of his hold and threaded them into his hair before pulling him in to capture another kiss, hotter and even more passionate than the last.
Phillip responded in an instant, letting his tongue slide against yours, hungrily whilst he tangled his free hand in your hair, gripping painfully, deepening the kiss, like it could be the last thing he ever does.
Your body seemed to burst into a flame of mingled rage and lust, and you knew he felt the same from the desperate, almost angry growl he made the sensation overwhelmed you both. 
Sinking your nails into his scalp, you pressed your hips hard against his erection, feeling him gasp into your mouth before lifting his head to take another look at you, his fingertips never leaving your jaw.
Phillip licked his lips unconsciously as he stared down at you, but before you could say anything, he had brought his face once more closer to yours, his eyes half-lidded and full of desire.
''And you're a fucking slut.'' Once more your hand was lifted in the air, intending to slap him for a second time, but he caught it as it swung for his face and took hold of your other before you could attempt it again. With one swift move, he maneuvered your body around and pinned both of your wrists in a firm grip behind your back before your brain could catch up to what was happening.
Head shaking, arms straining as you tried to break out of his hold, huffing and giving in when he only held onto you tighter, walking both of you closer to the wall, pressing your front hard against it. Panting, furious, your heartbeat thundered somewhere in your throat. The Commander's form was a solid taut weight caging you in, imposing, all muscle, a hard line of his desire against your lower back.
''Someone needs to fuck that attitude out of you, Y/N.'' The words made your toes curl and your hips arch, betraying how desperate you looked, splayed out on his command center for his pleasure. The side of his face was so close to yours that you could feel him breathing down on you, his lips at the shell of your ear.
The other hand that wasn’t currently wrapped around your wrists moved to hold your jaw, squeezing tightly to the point of discomfort.
Briskly, he released your arms, spinning around to pounce on the man before you and quickly pressed your back against the wall once more so you can be chest to chest.
''And that's gonna be you, Graves?'' You met his fire with your own, staring unflinchingly into the heated pools of stormy sea. The question was as close to begging as your pride would allow.
''No one else can. No one else can fuck you the way you deserve but me, soldier.'' He stated, face lowering to yours and his tone low and menacing, the promise of retribution sent shivers down your spine.
The grotesque snarl of words should have made you put him in his place, despise of the outcome. Any other day you would have, but instead, your body had different plans.
''Is that a threat, Commander?'' You croaked out, a smirk settling on your face. How you managed to still be coy in a situation where you knew you had no power was insane and the look on his face confirmed it as his fingers around your jaw grew tighter and you winced in pain. 
''Oh, I don't make threats, Sergeant. I make guarantees.'' There was that deep chuckle again. The one that vibrated up his throat until it bubbled out to bless your ears and slither goosebumps down your spine.
Darkly, he challenged your moral compass that was screaming for you to get away from his intoxicating presence. The smirk formed on his lips was wicked, provocative. The prey was finally caught.
''Let's see how far your arrogance can take you then, Commander.'' With a hint of sarcasm, you challenged him back, deliberately imbuing his title with a sensual cadence. His skin was flushing to you calling him by his rank, a blotchy red slowly encroaching from his throat to his cheeks. It was an interesting kind of power to have over someone. 
For a few seconds he just stared you down, eyes adapting the darkest shade of blue. The sensation simmering down in your abdomen was quickening the pace of your heartbeat trying to burst out of your ribcage in a mingle of fear and arousal. It was taking over every single nerve in your body and there was no way of stopping it, not that you desired to.
With a quick use of his brute strength he hoisted you up, having you scrambled to wrap your legs around his waist while his hands moved to your ass to hold you up.
''You won't even comment on the fact that someone could walk in right now and see you in such a mess, Y/N?'' Phillip murmured gravelly, his lips biting the soft skin of your throat intending to break the skin as he was backing you closer to the table behind you, quickly hoisting you to sit on it. He settled between your legs, hands gripping just above your knees.
''God, you must be so fucking desperate for it, huh?'' He was right, of course. The possibility of someone walking in was more than enough to let shame start creeping in your system and yet all it took was one look at his face. The way the moonlight was shining through the window to define his cheekbones even more, experience visible through the wrinkles decorating the corners of his eyes as they stared into your soul.
''You're taking your sweet time with this, Graves. I'm starting to think that you're all bark and no bite.'' You can’t help the smug smile that spread across your lips as you saw the flare of anger flash in his eyes, finding the way he was so quick to be irritated, quite fascinating.
That little defiant glint still sat in your eyes, and he was absolutely determined to remind you who was in charge by the end of the night.
"Oh, I'll show you how I bite.'' He growled, thrusting his clothed erection against your center, a loud whimper escaping your lips to the friction. 
Gasping, you felt his lips leaving a wet trail down the length of your jaw before he settled in the hollow beneath your ear, an erogenous zone he’d discovered, devoting his attentions there. All your body could do in response was cling to him, mewls and sighs falling haphazardly from your lips.
“I dream about your cunt,” He stated, lifting his head up, smoldering eyes locked on yours as your elbows struggled to keep your balance against the wooden surface.
"How it feels.  How it looks.  How it tastes. I dream of fucking ruining you till you can't move to save your life." Every filthy word out of his mouth was a direct attack to your throbbing core as he maneuvered your hips upwards to yank the fabric of your jeans down to your ankles, legs exposed to the cool air of the stone room.  Your gaze followed his, eyes glued hungrily on the obvious wet spots in your panties.
''Fuck- Do it then.'' Clearly, you weren't thinking when your mouth formed the words, "Fucking do it, already-" But it was spoken harshly between the ragged breaths of your desire, and it was all the invitation he needed.
"You're not the one who gets to make commands here," He growled, taking a sinful pride in the drawn out whimper that he had dug out from you.
''Pathetic.'' And so he lifted one of those large hands to your face and pressed his thumb into your mouth, the pad of it resting on your bottom row of teeth as he dragged your jaw down, forcing your mouth wide open.
Trembling with a sudden onslaught of unexpected arousal at having someone else's fingers between your lips, feeling the flutter in your soaked cunt again only this time it was more intense, fiercely with your legs shaking to the sensation.
Your hands moved on their own as Graves' thumbs pressed deeper into your mouth, gliding and pressing at your tongue as you slid them down the length of his body, feeling every defined muscle underneath his blue shirt, going lower and lower, until you were curving one palm around the shape of the Commander's cock confined within his dark shaded jeans.
Impatience took over you, lifting the hem of your shirt, hastily tugging the fabric up and throwing it to the side and before you could touch him again, his hands were at your sides, sliding over the mounds of your breasts and then there was another tug and a louder ripping sound as he teared your bra at the front.
His own pupils, now blown with a heated desire, locked into your glazed expression. Having his fingers toy with your mouth earlier had already caused a small string of saliva to run down your chin and he couldn't help the smirk starting to flicker onto his lips. He had barely started to touch you and you already looked all sorts of fucked up. 
Your outrage couldn't even register before his warm mouth was on your skin, sucking at your nipples, pinching and biting and rubbing the soothing pad of his thumb over each one after any rough treatment. The chill of the night air was an electrifying contrast to the warmth of his mouth and hands as you were openly moaning and writhing to the way he massaged and teased every inch of nakedness before him.
''Me or you?'' You hum innocently to his previous remark as you pressed your palm against him, stroking the long line of heat firmly, and he hissed as his hips bucked forward just as desperately, his hands suddenly coming up to catch both of your wrists, bringing them down to your sides, the grip just tight enough to sting.
Indignation flashed in those midnight blue eyes. There was something off from his normal heated gaze. This look he was giving you was more than just argumentative, more than just fired up. It was absolutely primal. The heat had shifted. While usually he was more reminiscent of a volcano during an eruption, now he seemed to be the moments before, it was a slow heat. Dangerous. 
"I'm not in the mood for games.'' Graves breathed heavily, bending over you to nip at your lips before hearing the sound of his belt touching the ground to finish what you started, freeing himself.
You couldn't tear off your eyes from the obscene sight in front of you as he took himself in one hand while the other came to rest high on your thigh, his thumb brushing against your core, tantalizingly close. He stroked himself once, twice, pressing himself against you and pausing for a moment, just long enough for you to grow restless.
He sighed, the sound more like a growl than anything, steam escaping from his nose.
''I should've done this a long time ago.'' He ripped your legs apart, tugging onto your dripping underwear until it was on the ground, grunting as your slick coated his fingers before he rubbed his cock against your entrance. Every part of your body tightened, a bare spark of pleasure almost exciting you when his cockhead scraped your clit.
You couldn't believe that someone you absolutely despised was giving you some of the best pleasure you'd ever felt. Wanton moans fell from your lips as he jackhammered your cunt. His hand tangled in your hair and yanked your head back.
''You like that hm? You like being treated as a little slut?'' His voice was raspy and full of lust before he pushed forward, drawing all air from your lungs with a loud yelp as he buried himself deep inside you.
''Commander-'' Despite your efforts, the call was loud, urgent. He didn’t start slowly. He was rough, punishing, desperate, taking you with everything he had, as though he was claiming you right where anyone could walk in to see it.
Phillip sped up his pace exponentially, sweat breaking out across his forehead. ''Answer me-'' You became a boneless mess under the power of his ruthless thrusting, slamming into you with such force that you were sure there would be bruises where his hip bones met yours tomorrow.
''Fuck- Yes, damn you!'' You mewled loudly, then covered your mouth with one hand, fearful of passersby. He pulled your hand away, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up into his eyes as he took you against the shaking table.
''I can tell by the look on your face." He said gruffly. ''You can’t get enough of me can you?'' You placed your forehead on his shoulder, embarrassed to look at him.
''Look at me, Y/N.'' He said in response to this. You slowly looked back at him. ''Good girl.'' He muttered, grabbing your hips and pounding into you.
His hips bucked slowly, riding his twitching length inside your warm folds as he withheld his own noises. ''Beg for it, go on." He gave a firm, sharp smack to your ass, gripping on it tightly whilst using the sound to hide the low groan he released.
He didn't want to hold back any longer, but he refused to let you have your way, especially when you were already so close to come undone under his touch. Your dripping cunt was leaking onto him with every deliberate thrust, letting him glide in and out with ease.
He hunched back over you , pressing his chest down onto you as much as he could without breaking his hold on your arms. "Fucking beg-" He gave a feral groan before sliding out of you without the intention of going back in. A strangled whine escaped you, once again, jerking your hips back against him, trying to provoke him, to get him inside, get him to continue, anything. He refused to relent.
"Whimpering doesn't count, doll." He whispered against your ear. His tone is hard, unyielding. Prick.
His stubbornness was torturous for the both of you. It was a battle to see who could break their composure first and he was about to go fucking berserk. Eventually, you lost it. It wasn't until he had pulled back and dragged his tip to the entrance of your sopping cunt once more that he finally heard you gasping a loud breath as he slowly prodded against the heat.
"Please- Fuck, just- please!'' Your desperate response seemed to please him enough, the sudden build-up of pressure and heat in your body was allowed to be released as his length was quick to plunge into your body, sending the entire table to lurch backwards slightly.
The sounds coming out of your mouth were obscene, not really caring that the two of you were doing such a private thing in a place that anyone could walk into at any moment.
He was not gentle, or tender but you hadn’t expected Phillip fucking Graves to be that. His thrusts came fast and hard as he took his pleasure cause that was what he thrived in. Take and take and take, though you gave gladly, growling out praise in ragged whispers that you couldn't barely grasp.
You grabbed tightly onto his shoulders, screaming out in delight as he fucked you into you in a brutal. You felt your legs tingle and your mind go numb. All you could focus on was the warm feeling in your stomach, the bundle of nerves within you going crazy.
The hot tears continued to pour down your cheeks with each merciless thrust ripping through your body as your teeth pierced the soft skin of your lip, the taste of iron touching your taste buds whilst the wet slaps of his body against yours filled the room, accompanying the pain shooting through your core.
''Crying? Is this too much for you, baby?'' There was sarcastic, mock-disappointment in his tone, the repetitive press into you and the wonderfully satisfying stretch of his cock only deepening the catharsis of the intimacy you were sharing with him.
He grabbed your hips and started pounding you with newfound vigor. You could feel yourself clenching around him. It wouldn't be long before you peaked. You dipped a hand between your legs and started rubbing your clit, willing the moment to come faster. You closed your eyes and sighed, both in pleasure and exasperation.
''Too good- Commander-'' This time, you needed no further prompting and there wasn’t a single hint of brattiness in your tone as you submitted to his request fully, whining for him. Waves of ecstasy pulsed through your body, overwhelming you. Noises you didn't recognize poured out of your lips as your body began to spasm and convulse around him.
''That's my fucking girl.'' His last words came out in a rough growl as he pulled out of you again, before thrusting back in, so hard that you started seeing stars and shriek with pleasure.
The room was filled with your sounds, no longer able to control the moans and whimpers that left you as pounded into you, white dots clouding your vision to your orgasm overwhelming your body hard, shattering as he thrusted and swirled, setting off a wild pulsing in your clit that triggered your insides, and you came all over his cock with a scream followed by a shudder of shaky breath.
Graves kept his ever-the-rougher pace, holding you tighter and tighter, but you felt the slight stutter in his hips that suggested that he was close to his own climax. He started gasping out sentences, heavy statements that surmounted to desperation. ''You're mine, fuck- all mine-''
You could feel yourself growing light-headed in the best way as his embrace restricted your breathing to a further degree, and you gasped sharply as he said your name, the syllables transforming into a vicious growl just as he sank his teeth into your shoulder, deep enough to draw blood and deep enough to make you cry out in pain. 
Cleansing, freeing pain, the kind that purged every transgression you knew you’d enacted against him, and him against you.
He followed shortly after as he began to shake subtly, his movements sporadic and wild as he lost control of his body. You surrendered yourself to his control as he pumped aggressively into you, dictating what he needed from your body as he arrived upon completion whilst tightening the grip on your hair almost painfully as he emptied himself inside you.
The weight of his body collapsing against you felt almost comforting in that moment, gasping and absentmindedly rubbing soothing circles into your scalp where he’d just been tugging your hair by the roots.
''So..'' he started, his voice strained and weak. ''Learned your lesson yet?'' Cocky bastard.
You chuckled quietly, and you could feel him smile against your skin.
''Think I might need a few more lessons, Commander.'' Shamelessly, you admitted, feeling your cheeks heat up as he lifted his head to take another look at you.
''I might have to thank the fucking Scot after all.''
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joonsytip · 7 months
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All Too Well || Wonwoo
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Synopsis: With Wonwoo's dilemma hitting the wall and your perseverance getting stronger, will the events unfold as foreseen or the fate will turn its course?
Word Count: 2k
Third and final installment of Wonwoo drabble series (set in the Withering for You universe but can be read as a standalone drabble series).
[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]
Say Don't Go | So It Goes | All Too Well
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It's been a week since Wonwoo has seen you. When he woke up that fateful day along with nothing but the void you, it didn't take him long to recollect the happenings from within the car to his sheets. The slightly recovered bruises on his knuckles and the bloodstains on his bedroom wall are the witnesses of the frenzy state he was in, still is.
The guilt of sleeping with you eats him up. The regret of getting wasted and causing the slip of his true feelings and also his dick into you, makes him wanna get swallowed by the ground. He hates that his subconscious mind was conscious enough to hear your sobs but did nothing to stop them.
Wonwoo contemplates for the whole week that follows. He wonders if he should contact you or let you have your space and contact him whenever you're ready.
He's not clear in head, unsure of what he'd say on seeing you again.
Sorry, it was a mistake. He wonders if he should go ahead with the classic lie and be an entitled jerk, letting you berate him which would gradually help you in letting go those feelings for him.
It wasn't a mistake, I really meant everything I said and did but sorry we can't be together. This seemed too much of truth bombing in a situation where the other party (you) is already hurt beyond repair.
In his mind, he tries several other permutations and combinations but never considers that one way which would save everyone from the headaches and all the heartbreaks.
Everyone can sense the shift, something has definitely happened by the way you have been avoiding meetups and can guess the reason to be Wonwoo. They can't pinpoint exactly but they're sure it started right after that night's party.
"I need you to take everything off your chest while I'm asking you nicely.", your best friend tells you, "My patience has been thinned nowadays and don't make me loose my temper."
Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, as you look at her and Seungcheol whose eyes are begging you to comply with his wife because she can indeed be scary.
"Do you want Seungcheol to be gone from here?", she asks, her gaze softening, "It's okay, he won't mind."
Before you could answer, Seungcheol is already off his seat saying, "I'll head back to the office, have some matters to take care of.", and he leans to peck his wife on forehead, "Call me if you need anything and let me know once done, I'll come and pick you up."
After Seungcheol leaves, a comfortable silence falls upon.
"You're already showing.", you say smiling and your best friend mirrors one to you.
"Four months already", she says caressing her protruding belly, "Time flies by, I swear it feels like yesterday I took the test and it came out positive. Seungcheol had cried the whole night, holding me close. Though he has became a lot more sensitive than me.", she adds and looks at you, "But enough about us. I came here just to make you lift some weight off. I could have brought Gyu, but I thought we should have a one to one before letting the guys know if at all you're willing to."
When your gazes meet, you can tell that she already has an inkling because her hunch has always been accurate. So you squirm in your seat and after failing to keep the tears at bay you tell her what had exactly happened in a messy-teary state.
After consoling you, she waits for you to stop crying, blinking back her own tears.
"Are you planning to address this to Wonwoo?", she asks softly.
You shake your head, "He probably doesn't even remember."
"Bullshit." she scoffs, "Are you waiting for him to contact you? Do you want me to talk to him?"
You chuckle with all bitterness, "Yes, I wanted him to contact me but it's been a week already and honestly, I don't even want to see him now because he'll repeat the same words, which are not exactly pleasant to hear. I hate how right headed he is, how all his fears are legit. I wouldn't have done it either."
You lean up to look at her, "Also, I don't want you to talk to him and I'd appreciate it if you can keep this to yourself because we're in the same group and the guys would cause a ruckus if they become aware."
She strokes your hair in a soothing manner and you almost drift off until she nudges you to tell something but you're already dismissing her off, "Don't even think of trying to do anything. I've just accepted my fate, I'll gradually move on."
Another week passes by and Wonwoo thinks he's ready to confront you. He had taken the entire office, everyone in his circle by surprise by taking an entire week off. Seungcheol being an amazing boss and understanding friend easily granted his request in the best hopes of having his friend clear the clouds clogging in his head.
Wonwoo sends you a text asking you to meet him whenever you're free. He clutches the phone tightly in his hands, feet tapping anxiously as he awaits your reply.
When he doesn't receive one after an hour, he's calling you only to be unanswered. Rationality leaving his bones, he keeps on calling your number until it gets recieved and it's an unfamiliar male voice answering the phone.
There's a sharp pang in his heart when he gets to know that it's your blind date who has picked up the call since the phone kept ringing and you've gone to washroom. Though he wants nothing but to rush to whenever you currently are, he curtly ends the call and decides to wait for your reply to his text.
His unwavering gaze directed towards the phone might have worked because he receives a response late at night and he's meeting you tomorrow.
You are unfazed, never once thinking about Wonwoo. That's what you try to tell yourself, that's how you plan to act in front of him. You don't anticipate his arrival at your apartment, that's partially true because you know you're gonna get heartbroken again because even though you want to tie the loose ends, you're sure he's only coming to cut them off wholly.
So you tell your mother who has been nagging you to get married to set you up for blind dates and this time you promised you'd seriously consider them with marriage perspective. Hence, today you're going to another date with someone you know this time and not at all impressed about.
The doorbell rings and you check the monitor to confirm that it's Wonwoo before letting him in.
"Are you going somewhere?", Wonwoo asks as he settles on the couch and you take a seat on the chair.
You nod, "Going on a date with Minjun."
Wonwoo's jaw clenches, his hands ball into fists as he asks, "Kim Minjun? He's a womanizer, Y/N. Didn't you go on a date yesterday?"
You scoff, "And how does that concern you anyway?", your lips curl up, "People can change after marriage."
Wonwoo short circuits at your verbal jab.
"Marriage? How can you even consider Minjun out of all people?"
Your expression turns grim when you say, "If I can't marry the person I love then marriage for me would be just another business deal, another merge to benefit the company, solidify our social status."
Trying to maintain the unbothered facade, you ask, "Why did you want to meet?"
"Why did you leave me alone in the bed?", Wonwoo asks toning down, "When you left, you took all of the warmth with you."
You suck in a sharp breath, breaking the eye contact.
"Within these two weeks I went through all sorts of possibilities from never acknowledging the fact that we slept to being a jerk, dismissing it as a simple hookup to letting you down subtly.", he gets up and walks up to you, crouching in front of you, "But as I pondered over, the only honest answer residing within my heart was not to be a coward anymore and be honest about my feelings, be honest with you."
Your heartbeat quickens, as his hands encase yours, you feel the warmth seep from him.
"I love you, Y/N.", Wonwoo confesses, "Like you, I have also harboured feelings for you for a long time. I cherish every moment we've spent together."
You're eyes go wide, heart constricting in chest. You feel your inners catapulting. You thought you know him all too well to give up upon the possibility of being together but witnessing him stripping bare in front of you is something you've always wanted but never expected to happen.
Wonwoo gently holds your face, voice soft, gaze emitting tenderness when he says, "I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry for projecting my fears and insecurities upon you. But I have realised that you're worth everything and above. For you, I would fight the world if you allow me to stay by your side."
Rendered speechless, your teary eyes look at him with such anguish that it makes Wonwoo want to beat himself for breaking your heart over and over again.
Moments pass by and you both fall into comfortable silence. You're now seated on his lap, head laying his chest as he gently strokes your hair.
"It won't be easy.", you speak, head still downed, as your hand takes in his, entwining the fingers, "But I'd go to hell and back for you if time comes."
You shift back to look at him, "And I promise to be your shield, if anyone tries to hurt you or Wonseok, they'd have to face me first. I won't let anyone hurt you.", your gaze softens, "All of your worries, fears and sentiments are valid, Wonwoo. But it would be nice if you share them with me from now on because you're not alone, we're in this together. I love you."
Wonwoo swears he doesn't cry easily but your words seem to have opened the floodgates as his loud sobs echo throughout the house.
"Thank you.", he smiles as you wipe his tears and leans in to kiss you.
As your lips graze, the shrill ringing your phone startles you both. You grab it from the couch and the screen flashes Kim Minjun as the caller.
There's a sharp change in Wonwoo's expression as he takes the phone from your hand, putting it on speaker and answering it.
"Uh sorry, who's this speaking? Could you please get Y/N on the phone?"
There's a terse movement in the muscles of his jaw as Wonwoo responds, "I'm Jeon Wonwoo, Y/N's--", his gaze shifts at you, lips stretching in a smile, "Lover. I'm cancelling the date and please don't ever contact her again."
As soon as he hangs up, you tease him, "Lover huh? Since when?"
Wonwoo grins like he's drunk in love, he might as well be, "Since the day, you got drunk and danced on the tabletop after the semesters ended."
You gasp, "What do you want in exchange for deleting this memory?"
He's so lovesick, giggling cutely and being all touchy, "What about making new ones and keeping this one in my vault, sealed?"
Your heart flutters at the insinuation. True to your words, you'd surely fight the world to keep him with you.
And your lover chants all's well that ends well to ending up with you, gratefully with all his heart.
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bruhnze · 2 months
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Fuck this - Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle
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Summary: Jealous Lucy.
Warnings: A lot of bad words, smut. Minors DNI. Not proof read :) THIS IS X-RATED!!!
Wordcount: 4k
i dedicate this one to you @onabronze and to the anons that asked it's not really good but i tried :).
(i've emptied my inbox so if your ask is not on my WIP pls send again (if u still want it done) because i had so much garbage in there i just removed everything in one go, sorry not sorry😬)
Ps: We do not hate Germany (don't come for me, it was for the plot)!
´´fuck this shit´´ Lucy mumbled to herself as she was running faster and faster on the treadmill, ´´fucking dick-head ref, that’s not a fucking yellow´´. ‘’Cata is a fucking goalie, you fuck ass pigfucker, really strange for her to use her hands, huh, dumb fuck’’.
´´that’s a lot of f-bombs Bronze’’ Millie tried to joke, not noticing how worked up the English defender really was.
‘’Fuck off Millie’’, Bronze called as she stopped the machine and ran off with her eyes glued to her phone.
‘’Bruh’’ Lauran giggled, ‘’you know Spain Germany is on right now’’.
‘’Oh really’’ Millie said confused, ‘’ohh, fuck, her girl is playing for Spain right’’.
‘’Yeah, they’re losing’’ Sam called from the bench on the side of the gym, ‘’Gwinn is about to take a penal and she hasn’t missed a single one for club’’.
‘’Are you watching that?’’ James asked while she strutted over to the Australian, ‘’let me watch along’’.
‘’Ofcourse mate’’ Sam chuckled, ‘’I watch everything’’.  
‘’Do we check on her?’’ Millie asked, mostly directed to Lauren, as she knows her best.
‘’Nah’’ James says, ‘’if you like to live you’d best leave her alone’’.
‘’Sure?’’.
‘’Yes, we’ll just give her some boxing gloves as the game is over’’.
..
‘’Ona doesn’t deserve this shit, what a horseshit head coach’’.
‘’Putellas missing a penalty what a fucking joke’’.
‘’You’re a cunt Berger, A CUNT!’’.
Lauren knocked on the doorpost of the locker-room, ‘’Ey Luce, they’re looking for someone to break in the new boxing gloves’’.
‘’I hate those German wankers with their ugly kits’’.
The English forward suppressed a giggle, ‘’yeah they suck, but you should turn it of bruv, it’s no point of watching them cry’’.
‘’Ona is going to be devastated’’, Lucy said as she looked up and stared ahead, as if she’s just realized it.
‘’Are you seeing her soon?’’ Lauren asked carefully.
Lucy snapped out of her trance and looked at her friend, ‘’yeah she coming tomorrow’’.
‘’To London?’’.
‘’Yes, she has ten days off’’.
''Well then you have enough time to comfort her''.
Lucy sighed ''yeah, I'll just quickly send her a text and then we'll box, I'm going to turn off this stream bullshit''. She says as she looked back at her phone and saw Paralluelo crying. ‘’my heart can’t take this’’, she muttered quietly without James hearing it.
..
When she was driving back ‘home’ from the training ground she received a call, it was Ona.
‘’Hey love’’, Lucy said timidly, not sure about if Ona’s mood would be more sad or angry, or maybe both.
Instead Ona answered pretty lightly, ‘’hey Luce, how are you?’’.
‘’Huh?’’ Lucy said, maybe a bit too loud ‘’I should be asking you that’’.
‘’Montse just scolded us for an hour’’ Ona said, ‘’but for some reason I don’t care about the loss, Germany was just better and I think Cata needs a psychologist after she’s broken her nose, she’s been out of it for every game after it’’.
‘’You deserved to win’’ Lucy said with tears in her eyes.
Ona chuckled ‘’I love you Lucy, but honestly, I’ve got respect for the Germans, they played well’’.
‘’I hate the Germans’’.
Ona chuckled louder, ‘’no Luce, you can not say that because they won Bronze’’.
‘’I hate Montse then’’.
‘’Okay’’, Ona laughed ‘’I agree with that one’’. ‘’But I am going to dinner with my family tonight, so I have to get ready in a little bit, you texted me to call you when I had time, so that’s why I called’’.
‘’Oh wow’’ Lucy said, a little hurt ‘’not because you wanted to hear your girlfriends voice’’.
‘’I see you tomorrow’’, Ona chuckled.
‘’That’s true but I still miss you today’’ Lucy sighed, ‘’maybe I’m a wuss, but I just feel bad for you Oni and I thought you might have needed some comfort’’.
‘’I love you, but I have to get ready’’ Ona laughed, ‘’see you tomorrow?’’.
‘’or you can call me tonight after dinner?’’.
‘’I think I will go to bed straight after, I am extremely tired’’.
‘’I understand, do you want to stay on the phone when you get ready?’’.
‘’Okay’’ Ona said as she put her phone on speaker.
After Ona had hung up because her cab was about to be there, Lucy thought about what she would eat for dinner.
She looked around her kitchen, ''fuck'' she mumbled ''i should clean this shit up''.
She opened her phone and ordered some sushi for tonight, 'because she deserved some comfort food' and got to work.
Her appartment was still a bit of a mess after the quick move in, and she needed it to be presentable for her girlfriend tomorrow. Ona would probably start cleaning her place and she didn't want to be a partner like that, that would be stupid because it was one of her own icks.
As she had cleaned up her apartment the bell rang.
With the sushi she took place at the table and opened the ipad that layed there.
Mindlessly she went on Twitter, she was logged on to her anonymous account and went on the hashtag 'Ona Battle'. She knew she shouldn't, but she was curious what the people thought of her performance this game.
Lucy had seen Ona was tired, but when you took in mind she'd played every single minute, and Lucy knew Ona slept very bad in the hotel, she had played very good.
She froze when she saw people joking about Feli and Ona being back together ''what the hell?'' she said to herself as she went deeper into the rabbithole and eventually came aross pictures of Ona in a Germany shirt, and not just any German shirt, it was the ugly 'Rauch 19' one.
Lucy was tempted to send a teasing text, maybe even with the picture attached, but she chose not too.
She couldn't help to feel a little anger inside her towards Feli, and as she came across a video of them chatting and giggling Lucy lost her shit and quickly closed the Ipad.
She jumped up from the table ''Fucking hell, not bothered about losing, fuck that'', she started pacing the room ''Germay deserved it'' she mocked, ''sure Ona, if you want to fuck her just say that''.
Lucy walked to her kitchen and fetched a beer from the fridge that was left from when Jorge had helped her with building some furniture ''fuck it'', she thought she might aswell have this because it was such a shitty night.
She took the beer to the bathroom and ran a bath, after that she went back to the kitchen to grab her ipad and got in, eventhough she had already taken a shower this afternoon.
Finaly she felt a little better, she had watched some episodes of a series she was watching and after two hours she decided to just go to bed early, Ona didn't want to call anyways so she didn't see the point of staying up. Might aswell get some rest before she saw Ona again tomorrow, eventhough she'd probably be very tired, so Lucy doubted they'd do anything, but atleast she'd be able to take care of her better.
As she got comfy in her bed she opened her phone to check one last time if Ona had sent her a text.
She hadn't.
Then she opened Instagram, scrolling for a little while.
She was just about to shut her phone when she saw @feli_rauch on her timeline, ''bitch'' she grumbled and as she took a better look she saw it was a teamphoto of the Germans, she only saw one person wearing a red shirt in the whole group.
''No way'' she said out loud as she zoomed in, ''are you kiddin' me'' - ''the only fucking shirt swap and it's my girlfriends' ''.
She closed her phone, trew it on the nightstand and dramatically dropped herself on the bed to go to sleep.
As she remembered she still had to put on an alarm and it would be probably best to have her phone on the charger she reached out to put the nightlamp on and fetched it.
When she held her phone it automatically unlocked with face-ID, and she saw that god-awfull team picture again ''fuckkkkkk'' she groaned as she swiped instagram away ''this is one big joke''.
After she had finally put in an alarm and found her charger, she put the light out and layed down again.
She tried hard to sleep but her mind kept wondering off to Ona.
Normally she wouldn't mind that one bit, sometimes her hand would even find it's way between her legs when she thought about her hot, beautiful girlfriend.
But not this time, her mind was polluted with images of Feli and Ona laughing together.
She knew Feli was Ona's ex, she had never really been bothered about it, eventhough she knew her mind was just being a bit stupid, she couldn't help to think back about what Ona had told her about Feli after Lucy had asked her how she had ever been with Feli.
''I wasn't really with her, we just fucked''. Ona had said laughing, ''but i soon found out she was very vanilla and for a relationship we would never ever work''.
Lucy knew she shouldn't have asked the question, but she had, ''but was she good?''.
Ona had asked her if she really wanted to know, and she had confirmed that she did.
After the answer she had regretted asking it, ''uhm, well, at the things she did do she was pretty good at, it just got boring very quickly'' Ona had said.
Now she was laying in bed with the thoughts of Feli fucking Rauch having her way with her precious Ona.
The thought that the German had tasted Ona sickened her.
The thought that the German had been inside Ona sickened her.
But the thought that Ona had, at one point, enjoyed it, got her blood boiling.
Maybe it was the distance.
Maybe it was because they hadn't been able to be intimate for a few weeks now.
Maybe it was the fact Ona hadn't told her about the shirt swap.
But Lucy felt jealous like she had never before.
..
Lucy woke up from her alarm, and checked her messages.
None from Ona.
She freshened up and got dressed.
Nothing from Ona.
In the kitchen she made herself some breakfast.
Nothing from Ona.
She went through the kitchen cupboards and refrigerator and wrote out a grocery list.
Nothing from Ona.
Lucy knew she would be flying in a couple of hours, so she decided to send a text herself, eventhough she had wanted Ona to text her first.
..
It was afternoon, Lucy was waiting in her blue Skoda outside of the airport. When she saw the beautiful freckled woman walking outside, searching for her, she jumped out of the car.
Ona was wearing sunglasses and a hat, but Lucy would always recognise her.
She opened her trunk and walked towards Ona.
''Hello baby'', she said happily.
''Luce!'', Ona said as she sped up her pace walking to her girlfriend.
They shared an embrace, ''i have missed you so much'' Ona muttered against the taller woman.
Lucy held Ona away from her to take a look at her face, ''i have missed you too''.
''I want to kiss you, so lets get in the car please'', Ona said smiling.
Lucy hastily threw the suitcase into the car and got back in the drivers seat as she saw Ona was already in the car.
''Your suitcase was pretty light'' Lucy said as she hopped in next to Ona.
''Yeah, i gave a lot of my stuff with Joan, i'm planning to wear your clothes anyways'' Ona stated.
''Oh'' Lucy said as she smiled at her girlfriend, ''and cool frames by the way''.
She leant in to kiss Ona.
They shared a kiss full of love, it was adamant that they had both missed eachother.
Not wanting to risk being spotted by anyone Lucy pulled back and got ready to drive off, reversing out of the parking spot.
''What yours is mine'' Ona chuckled, ''you said it yourself''.
''True'', Lucy said as she put her hand on Ona's thigh and drove away ''it's cute''.
..
Lucy carried Ona's suitcase to her apartment, and handed Ona the key to get them inside.
''Should i unpack your stuff? is there anything in here that needs to be washed?''.
''Uhm, i don't think so, i have only worn a few clothes, mostly the olympic stuff and those are with Joan, he is going to wash that for me''.
''Clever'' Lucy chuckled, ''putting your brother to work''.
Ona grinned, ''ofcourse, but maybe i will take a shower now and then we can nap together?''.
''I'd love that'' Lucy said, ''oh and let me show you around quickly, i almost forgot''.
It was a pretty quick tour, as the apartment wasn´t that big.
´´So here is the kitchen´´, Lucy said smiling as she turned on her heel and spinned.
Ona laughed, ´´are you making us dinner tonight?'' she asked stepping closer to Lucy.
''Of course beautiful'' Lucy said as she pressed herself against the Catalan, ''i was thinking that one tofu dish you like''.
''Hm yes''. Ona groaned, thinking about the dish Lucy made her often, because she liked it so much.
''Good'' Lucy said ''because I bought stuff to make that this morning''.
''You know me so well''.
''Yes'' Lucy smiled, ''and to be known is to be loved''.
''So romantic'' Ona laughed.
''Oh i'm feeling really romantic'' Lucy said as she bit her lip.
´´Really?'' Ona smirked as she put her arms around Lucy's neck and crossed them.
Lucy kissed her softly.
Ona hungerly answered the kiss and tried to get impossibly closer, getting up her tiptoes.
Lucy pulled away with a smile on her face ''but first you wanted to shower right?''.
The Catalan pouted ''i do.. but i also want you''.
The English defender kissed her girlfriend ''i'll be still here after the shower, and i know how you like to shower off the travel''.
''sí okay''.
They went to the bedroom, Lucy leading the way.
Lucy showed the on-suite bathroom and pointed to the towels.
''Leave the door open?'', Lucy asked in the sweetest voice she could put on.
''Sure'' Ona chuckled, ''are you staying in the bedroom?''.
''Yeah i'll put away your clothes really quick, i don't want you living out of a suitcase when you're with me, and i left some space in the closet for you''.
Ona kissed Lucy, ''you're cute''.
''You're cute'', Lucy repeated.
Lucy opened the suitcase, ''you need some underwear? and what do you want to wear or were you really planning on stealing my clothes''.
''huh'' Ona said, ''it's not stealing, it's my right''.
She chuckled until she watched Lucy's face who could appearently not laugh about it, ''what?''.
Lucy stayed silent.
''Sorry'' Ona ''i'll wear my own clothes if you really don't-
''No'' Lucy said, ''why don't you wear this'' she asked with a sarcastic laugh as she held up the white football shirt.
Ona chuckled.
Lucy looked at her in disbelieve ''you think this is funny? tell me why i have a damp German shirt in my hands right now?'''.
''I said my brother was going to wash my stuff right'' Ona said, ''well, match worn is worth more, you know you're supposed to keep the shirts you trade unwashed right?''.
''Fuck that''.
''It's financially responsible'', Ona laughed and stepped towards Lucy to kiss her.
With a quick peck she wanted to walk away.
Lucy didn't have any of that and grabbed her wrist, ''more please''.
Ona chuckled, ''let me shower, then we nap together''.
''Ona''.
Ona sighed but gave in, she held Lucy's face as she kissed her again, this time more slowly.
Lucy hands travelled to Ona's ass and squeezed her cheeks as she pulled the Catalan in closer.
Ona grinned into the kiss, ''you missed me'' she said, with a tone sounding somewhere between a question and a statement.
''Where did you and Feli talk about after the match?'' Lucy said before she could stop herself.
Ona looked up with a mischievious smirk, ''is that what is bothering you?''.
Lucy huffed out some air, ''why did you swap shirts with her''.
''She wanted too''.
''So you said yes? and giggled about it with her?''.
''What did you want me to do then'' Ona chuckled, thinking it was funny seeing this jealous side of Lucy, it was something new.
''I dont know'' Lucy scolded lightly, ''just to tell her to fuck off with her boring shirt''.
Ona laughed ''boring shirt?, how can a shirt be boring''.
''Not the point'' Lucy grumbled, ''you talked to her after the match and you didn't want to speak to me''.
''I had a dinner!'' Ona laughed as she rubbed Lucy's arms, ''don't worry, you are the only one for me''.
She kissed Lucy's pouty face, ''my beautiful *kiss* strong *kiss* smart *kiss* perfect girlfriend *kiss*''.
Lucy pulled the Catalan thighter against her, ''i think i should give you a reminder''.
''What reminder?'' Ona frowned.
''About what good sex is like''.
''Luce!'' Ona slapped her shoulder playfully.
Lucy frowned, ''you want boring sex?''.
''No..''.
''Cus if you want that I could just put that ugly shirt on and we can roleplay that''.
Ona blushed, ''Lucee''.
Lucy's jaw dropped, ''you're not even saying that you don't want that?!''.
''I don't want that'' Ona rushed to say.
Lucy rolled her eyes. ''yeah i totally believe you now''.
''Sorry'' Ona pouted, putting on a cute smile ''i was distracted because you look so hot when you are jealous''.
''Í'm not jealous!''.
''Oh, és clar que no ets gelós'' (oh i see you are not jealous) Ona mockingly chuckled, she reached out to the suitcase and grabbed the shirt.
''Maybe i will wear it today''.
Lucy looked at her with dark eyes.
''It smells like her'' Ona added with a grin.
A second of silence hang in the air.
''Put it on.'' Lucy said.
Ona's smile faded ''No i was just joking''.
Lucy repeated herself ''go on, put it on''.
''I was kidding''.
''i'm not''. ''put. it. on.''.
Ona gulped and took her shirt off to put it on.
Lucy stopped her, ''no wait, first get naked and then put it on'' she said as she took her shorts off.
Ona felt her heartbeat fasten from the way this aroused her and followed the instructions.
''Your panties too'' Lucy said as walked to 'the drawer' and chose a rather large strap-on to wear.
Ona looked excited at Lucy, wearing a cheeky smile.
''You want this one?'' she helt the strap up.
Ona nodded furiously, a blush creeping on her cheeks.
''i can't hear you'' Lucy said as she pretended to put it back in the drawer again and took her shirt off.
''No wait'' Ona said ''yes, i want that one''.
''Okay, i suppose you deserve it right?''.
''Yes'' Ona said desperately ''please Luce, i-''.
''-laughed with an ex'' Lucy said sternly, ''i don't know if that is good girl-behavior''.
Ona kept quiet as Lucy walked towards her on the bed.
Lucy put the strap in her harness and hovered above Ona.
''that's basicly asking her to fuck you'' she wispered as she let her eyes roam the woman below her.
Ona put her hands on Lucy and chuckled ''Luce, you're crazy''.
''You know how i always say you would look perfect in everything?''.
''mhmm'' Ona grinned.
''Well this is awfull'' Lucy plucked at the shirt.
Ona tried to kiss Lucy but Lucy leant back just in time to dodge it.
''Turn around''.
Ona whined but quickly oblidged, this attitude was making her feel some things.
She was on all fours on the bed and without warning Lucy slapped her ass, resulting in a moan escaping her throat without her being able to surpres.
''Im so wet'' Ona whined as she felt herself dripping along her thighs, she looked over her shoulder to read Lucy's face.
''Don't look at me'' Lucy ordered, ''your pretty face doesn't suit this revolting shirt''.
She leaned against Ona to hold her face before she could turn, and gave her a kiss ''you are beautiful'' she said and softly kissed her lips.
When she released Ona's face and let her hand slide over the number '19' she huffed out some air.
''But you should be happy i have a fake cock'' Lucy grumbled, ''cus i could never get a hard-on like this''.
Ona whimpered.
A cracking sound and a moan filled the room.
Lucy watched the flesh of Ona's as jiggle and groped the skin when it turned red.
''Who does this ass belong to?''
Ona groaned ''you''.
Lucy rubbed the tip of her rubber cock along Ona's wetness.
The Catalan's breath hitched in her throat ''Luce'' she chocked out.
Another time Lucy's hand found it's way to Ona's behind with great force.
''Agh'' Ona groaned, ''please Luce''.
Lucy grabbed Ona by her hips and guided her to grind against her.
''please''.
With one hand Lucy reached around for the smaller womans' centre.
With two fingers she traced her lips and collected some wetness before circling her clit.
''Fuck'' Lucy breathed out, ''so wet''.
She had problems with circling one spot at how wet Ona was, her fingers slipping away.
''Who are you so wet for?'' Lucy asked, talking in Ona's ear.
''You Lucy! you''. Ona practically cried out.
With that Lucy carefully slid the strap inside in one fluent movement.
''Merda'' (fuck) Ona moaned as her head slumped to her chest.
Lucy picked up a rhythm that she knew would drive Ona crazy, perfect for building the tension inside her quickly.
But after a few moments Lucy fastened her pace, not able to contain herself she fucked Ona hard and deep, the sight of the fabric around Ona fueling her anger.
She gave her another spanking to 'punish' Ona for wearing the shirt, but she knew it wasn't actually a punishment for Ona, which was confirmed by the filthy moan she let out.
''I'm coming'' Ona cried out as she gripped the sheets with clenched fists.
''Shit, already?'', Lucy groaned and kept thrusting.
''Lucí'' Ona said as her arch deepened.
''Fuck, come for me Ona'' Lucy said as her grip on Ona thightend.
With a loud cry Ona came.
Lucy slowly rode out her orgasm and released her grip on the girl, causing her to flop down on the bed.
The English woman shuffeld and took the strap out of the harness and layed it on the bed besides them, figuring the sheets were ruined anyways.
Lucy pulled Ona around by her shirt.
Ona looked at her with hooded eyes, wearing a content expression from her post-orgasmic bliss.
Lucy smiled, ''hi beautiful''.
Ona grinned as she took Lucy's hands, ''thought you hated it''.
Lucy scrunched her face ''the shirt; yes.. you; no''.
The Catalan smiled, ''i'll take it off'' she said as she sat up.
She stopped as she noticed reticence on Lucy's face.
''What?''.
A smile tugged on Lucy's mouth, ''i'm debating sending her a picture''.
'''Lucy!''. Ona punched her girlfriend.
She snapped out of her dream and redirected her gaze from the shirt to Ona's face. She shook her head quickly, ''sorry, i don't know why i said that''.
Ona chuckled, slapping a hand on her forhead ''jealousy''.
''I don't want her to see that pretty little fucked out face of yours''.
Ona chuckled and held her arms up, ''pull this off, we're throwing it away''.
''I'll sell it for you'' Lucy grinned, ''you didn't do all this effort for nothing, did you?''.
Lucy helped her out of the shirt and threw it so far it landed in the hallway.
''Well, that's gone'' Ona chuckled at the unreasonable attitude Lucy had, and tugged on Lucy's sportsbra ''this can go too''.
Lucy quickly took it off and got on top of Ona.
''Did i go to far?''.
''No''.
Lucy tilted her head questioning.
''I'm sure, it was hot actually, a little gross, but hot''.
''Gross?''.
''Yeah, stinky shirt'' Ona said with a disgusted face, making Lucy chuckle.
''Oh and'' Lucy said as she traced her hands along Ona's skin, ''as much as i hate it, you did look beautiful''.
Ona smirked, ''i thought the things you said were really hot'', ''i am already thinking about who's shirt i'll trade next''.
Lucy narrowed her eyes and shook her head, ''ohh you're bad''.
''Sí, soy fatal'' (i'm a baddie) Ona joked chuckling.
''Que?'' Lucy said, thinking Ona just called herself terrible.
''In spanish we call someone that's unreasonably hot, fatal, it means they're bad but it is like slang'' Ona explained, ''a funny joke, because you called me bad''.
''I get that now'' Lucy laughed, ''that's funny actually, in English you can also say someone is a baddie, same thing''.
''Really?''.
''Sí'' Lucy said, ''god, i will miss our language talks''.
''We call every day'' Ona said, frowning.
Lucy looked at her with a pouty face ''but you don't want to talk to me''.
''Luceee'' Ona dropped her head on the pillow ''I had a dinner!!'' she called out snickering.
''I love when you call out my name'' Lucy said as she ran her hands along Ona's thighs.
Ona looked up with a smirk, ''I love when you make me call out your name''.
''I think I forgot what you taste like'' Lucy said as she crawled on top of Ona.
..
-----
The end, not theirs.
-Keep an eye out for Feli's shirt on Ebay 😂
Feel free to give me feedback/tips (anonymously) but in a kind way is the most appreciated xx
246 notes · View notes
tarjapearce · 1 year
Note
Lips anon! I think one of the most intimate moments between mother and child is the first hair wash. Especially for curly babes. I'm just imagining the wife remembering Gabi's first wash while doing Benji's. Gentle scrubs and lots of suds. She puts him to bed, and Miguel comes home from work. They decide to bathe together since both the kids have been put to bed. Then they have their own intimate moment with her washing and massaging his scalp and stuff lol just something really fluffy I thought of
THIS IS SO SWEET OMG ❤️❤️❤️.
And the perfect chance for them to makeup 👀
A bit long ❤️ Hope you like 🥹.
Sudsy hands gently massaged Benjamin's head, his little feet splashing water, reacting with an uneven toothy grin whenever you cooed him. You kneeled by the enormous bathtub as you bathed him.
His rubber raccoon floating next to him along some other toys. Long lashes twinkled with the warm water, chubby and full cheeks moved as your baby babbled.
"Oh, I like the soapy water too, specially when it's warm." You rinsed his head carefully removing the baby scented shampoo from his head.
"There you go" You wrapped him in a raccoon themed towel, a matching set you had gotten in the baby apparel section at the super. You dried him well, put on a diaper and some comfy pjs.
You heard Miguel's heavy steps on the bathroom, preparing the tub for his use as you put little Benjamin to sleep and kissed him goodnight. You checked on Gabriela and kissed her forehead before tucking her in the sheets and closed her window.
Kids were asleep, and you only had one space to go back to. Hesitant steps made you approach your room that for some reason had turned into a silent battlefield. Ever since the fight, the tension between you and Miguel had only strengthened; but were careful enough to be a subtle as possible about it, the least you two understood much was that your children were definitely staying out of whatever was brewing.
You closed the door as you rummaged through your drawer of pjs, looking for one to change into. He passed next to you, grabbing a towel but stopped in his haste. You were tiny next to him, but with the current state of your emotions, you felt away. Away from his touch, away from his warmth, away from him.
He hated himself for creating this rift between you, but loathed even more the fact that you were giving him space. Being at odds with you didn't sit right in his chest. And the three days you had spent away from echother, yet in the same bed, made his heart to beat painfully. He'd never forget the way you were tucked on your side, wiping tears, shielding from whatever word he was about to spill. He didn't sleep that night.
He felt your body stirring awake around seven, ready to prepare Benjamin's bottles and wake Gabriela up for school.
His massive back faced you as you said your good mornings. There was no kisses on his cheeks to wake him up, No hug from behind and the nuzzle of your nose on his neck. None of your feathery eyelashes tickling the skin of his cheek. Just a meek and distant Good morning.
Gabriela was too busy with school to actually notice the awkward and forced interactions between you two. And for once he was grateful that Benjamin was... well. A baby.
Seeing him tense next to you made you recoil even more to your spot, not wanting to trigger another fight. His jaw clenched as his throat constricted. Even though you had said that you weren't afraid of him, your body language acted so cautiously around him. Wary to not make anything that would get him talking to you like the night you fought.
He didn't know who was to blame, his rising and brewing anger, or Alonzo. He sighed snd looked at you.
"Can... Can you" He trailed, unsure of his question, "Can you join me at the bathtub?" his voice gentle and careful.
The question threw you off guard, you stared at him for a couple of seconds and nodded.
He threw a couple of lavender bath bombs, your favorites, in the bathtub as the foam bubbles were rising. You removed your clothes and wrapped yourself in a towel. You were the first one in getting in. He joined you a couple of minutes later. You were across him, the foam almost engulfing you as he sat in front of you.
The warmth of the water made your tense muscles to relax slightly. His hand caressed your forearm and pulled you closer to him. Face to face as some water splashed on the floor. He was warmer than the water, a touch you had longed for the past three days.
Tears welled up in your already glossy eyes, he cupped your face and wiped out your eyes.
"Im sorry." His forehead colliding softly against yours, breath fanning over your lips.
"I just... What is going on, Miguel? Have... I done something-"
"No. no. Far from that. I've been an idiot. Me he comportado como un completo imbécil y en el proceso te lastimé. También a Gabi." (I've been an ass and I hurted you and Gabi in the process.)
You didn't have to know spanish at full to know he was admitting his mistakes.
"Im just worried, Miguel. I don't know what is bothering you or where this anger comes from, but... seeing you punching that man-"
"Scared you?"
"A bit. Yeah."
He casted his gaze down, shame washing over him.
"It's... so much going on that, seeing that man touching you was the last straw. My job is transferring me to another unit without consulting me, the house renovations are surely taking a good chunk of the savings, and... Gabriel is just... he barely talks to me anyways."
You grabbed a washcloth and soaked in showel gel, then began gently lathering up his torso with it, as if washing away his worries.
"Maybe he is just busy, you both have demanding jobs."
"I don't feel like I'm doing a good job as a husband and a father." he blurted
You nearly gasped at his confession, and cupped his face, conveying all your love with a single touch.
"Mostly of the time I come home you're ready to put Benjamin on his crib, Gabriela is too tired to play and... you." You shook his head and kissed him.
"No. Don't say that, please." you broken voice made his eyes snap at you.
"Gabriela and Benjamin love you. So do I. Is because you work so hard we try our parts as well. We try making things easier on you because I know it's hard."
"Still isn't an excuse to hurt you and my daughter."
"All I am asking is for you to tell me when something is bothering you. We are a team, Miguel." Your hands made him look at you, and you kissed him softly.
"I am here. I am your wife. We are a team. We don't do things solo anymore okay?"
He took your hand and kissed it, then twirled you around so your back was resting against his broad chest. His frame engulfing you.His arms securing you as his lips kissed your side of the head.
"I hate when we fight."
"Hm. Same." you nodded as your fingers entwined with his.
"I promise to do better. To communicate more."
He grabbed the washcloth and gently washed your arm to then kiss your neck
"Can't lose you over stupid shit."
"You won't. I love you too much to give you up so easily." His hands gently caked a bit of your rose scented shampoo on your head, dexterous fingers massaging your scalp with devotion. His chest finally got rid of that constricting and choking feeling.
"Still, I'm sorry."
"I accept your apologies. I'm sorry too. Should have talked to you sooner instead of just... letting this to grow bigger."
He nipped at your earlobe and kissed your cheek, peppering it in affection.
"We good?"
"Only if you massage my shoulders." he chuckled at your petition and squeezed you tighter against him.
"Te amo, chaparrita." (I love you, little one.)
974 notes · View notes
ame-perduexx · 1 year
Text
Astrology Observations🦋
*as always* take what you want, leave what you want
*based only on my personal experiences with people with these placements*
🧚🏻cancer venus: if you've ever felt love from a cancer venus then i hope you know how special it can be. does it feel like love-bombing at times? sure. But i find it beautiful how unabashedly they throw themselves into someone they like. can it be suffocating to someone who isn't fully ready to commit? sure. but its impossible not to root for them.
🧚🏻taurus venus: wonderful, incredible, sensational style sense. thrift shop royalty. impeccable taste. can look good in anything - simply because it looks like a carefully curated outfit when in reality it took them probably 5 mins to throw together.
🧚🏻gemini venus: attracted to people who show them endless fascination. enjoys playing questions games to get to know people. knowing someones favorite color or season may seem pointless but they genuinely find a person's answers interesting.
🧚🏻as a fixed sign .... i have found i clash the most with cardinal signs. they infuriate me to no end. I enjoy the dynamic nature of mutable signs more.
🧚🏻Leo sun/moon: listen....even when you meet one and they tell you: "i'm like the most un-leo, leo ever! I hate being the center of attention!" they are LYING. either to you or themselves or both. i understand why taurus get the bad rep for being stubborn but leo's are stubborn in the way they believe they fully are the best person in the room at all times....which in a way i am almost envious of them? they have a kind of self-love that is unflinching.
🧚🏻virgo suns: make extremely well bosses. are very diplomatic and fair in how each worker is treated and never takes anything personal.
🧚🏻Sagittarius suns: for some reason.... the ones i have met and been around (ones who all identify as women) present themselves as extremely proper and pious in social settings. they love to be seen as the most put together one - especially in work-place. quiet in work environment ... but will talk your ear to death if you're sitting next to them at a dinner party
🧚🏻*trigger warning for SA* 🧚🏻scorpio placements. particularly sun,moon and mars. experience deep sexual trauma. over and over and over again in their life. started at an early age. continues to be taken advantage of throughout their lives. easy for them to associate self-worth with being sexually desired in a negative way. doesn't trust a person if they seem innocent at first, it always turns into some form of a violation.
🧚🏻gemini placements: listen to more lofi style music or instrumental. music without lyrics.
🧚🏻gemini moons: i know i've said this before in a post, and its a common understanding with gemini placements, but they genuinely are extremely talented with foreign languages. learn them quickly. hear them spoken for a while and can pick it up naturally.
🧚🏻moon opposite saturn: i'm so sorry. i know how hard it is. the depression, the anxiety, the constant self-doubt. you are truly your own worst enemy. i'm sending every person with this placement all my love.
🧚🏻libra sun & moon: have i ever truly had a deep convo with these placements? no. do i still love their company? yes. but it tends to feel surface level with them. they are not talented in expressing their thoughts in a spoken or written way without it sounding....childish. maybe its just me .... either way they would still be the first person I invite to my party. they make me laugh. maybe it's their childish naive view of the world i love. maybe I wish i could see it that way.
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appleblueberry-pie · 4 months
Note
When Gojo asks why we won’t just be with him we tell him that he isn’t worth it 😔🫰
He isn’t worth the body or the history… I know a lot of people like to brag about having exes and body’s but that shit is so embarrassing to me 😭 like I feel like a whore because a boy kissed me in like middle school and he was a BOY. Boys are so gross omg-anyway-
Like why would I date you if we’re gonna break up? Get out of my face bro 😔
"....Is that what you became friends with me for? I'm not interested in dating you, Gojo."
Gojo never knew you were the type to reject people like him. He was everything you wanted in a man and he knew it. Money, extroverted, very fine, strong, tall, sexy, intelligent, all of the above. So....why did you say no to his confession? I repeat, HE CONFESSED and you rejected HIM. He couldn't help but accidentally voice his thoughts.
He leans back in surprised and scrunches his eyebrows at your response. "What?" You raise your eyebrows at his answer and continued eating the food he bought you at this expensive cafe that you now loved. ".....What? Never been rejected before?" You laughed at his response and kept eating. He wasn't gonna pressure you into dog shit, he could kiss ass. You did like his qualities. But with how the dating pool is currently, you wouldn't be surprised if he had three bitches lighting his phone up currently. You had zero hope in all men unless they don't use their phones at all and instead told you the worst jokes on planet in hopes of swooning you.
You would rather not date him. He was nice eye candy though. He gains his composure back and leans on the table. "Yeah, I have been, but I felt like we were both interested in each other, you know...?" You nod, understanding what he meant. "Yeah....sorry if it seemed like I was leading you on." He shakes his head, still incredibly butt hurt inside. "No, it's not your fault."
Why did you say no? He wants to ask desperately. Too many questions filled his mind at the possibilities. Were you lesbian and he was too stupid to realize? Was he not your type at all whatsoever? Was he too stuck up like Suguru said? He doesn't know. "Is it okay if I ask what made you say no?"
You shrug and look up in thought. "Well, it's not you, it's just....too much is happening right now. And I mean with everyone. Too many people are love-bombing each other, there's no genuine connection ever, then there's 'situationships', and a looot of people my age don't have patience for long-term relationships and it's just....i feel like- ugh i guess I'll say it. But I feel like you're the perfect person to have all of those qualities. You're very attractive, Satoru, so....I don't know if I'm ready to trust you enough not to put those labels on your head. It's dumb, but yeah. And I do too much with relationships. I put too much time and energy into the person I'm with, and i hate doing that knowing that there are so many people who've just neglected my needs in return. Basically, I love trauma."
Satoru watched you the entire time you spoke, so you found it hard to continue speaking, but you managed to push through. "Fuck them." You roll your eyes and he takes one of your fries, eating them. "I'm serious. I can give you everything you want and need y/n. I wouldn't ask you out if I didn't have a major attraction and connection to you."
You didn't look impressed, but he was determined. "I agree with you. All of the girls I tried to date just wanted me for sex. I know you would treat me better than that. And I would be willing to give you the love and respect you deserve. I get....I don't want to say this, but I get really happy at the thought of being able to provide for you. All I want is you. And it's okay if you don't want me now."
He takes a piece of your cake and eats it without your permission. "I'm willing to wait."
I'm sorry I took forever with this omg. This is the start of many. I might do like 6 more tomorrow. I need sleep.
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poem-i-wish-i-wrote · 3 months
Note
heyy, what's up? I wanted to request some angst to fluff with charles where the reader and him have a big fight and the reader decides to go to a hotel and he finds her and apologizes and they go back to their house and spend a lot of time together. if there's anything you would like to change feel free to do so ☺️ love your writing btw 🩷
Heyy Anon. Thank you so much for the request. I tried my best to do it justice. i really hope you like it. And i'm sooo delighted to hear you like my writing. You have no idea how much that means to me. enjoy!
Also requests are open
Standing at the door like a ghost shaking from the rain
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader Warning: angst, lots of angst, Charles being dismissive and avoidant, mention of anxiety.
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It’s been a horrible week for you at work. You felt so frustrated. You wish you could have talked to someone, but it feels like no ones ever around when it's you who needs some support.
Not even your boyfriend. It always seems like when you were having a bad week, Charles was having a worse one. And you end up not seeking comfort in him, because you don’t wanna be a burden. You don’t wanna add to his problems or concerns.
 Last week was the Austrian GP week, where Charles had a god awful result. He was very upset and stressed about it. You tried to comfort him as much as you could. But his quiet resentment hanged in the air like a ticking bomb. It just made you more anxious, it just made the week feel worse. And he was busy this whole week trying to improve his performance, always in training, always in meetings. You didn’t hold it against him. He needed to improve, he needed to work, you know that. 
But you hated how he acted when he came home. Avoiding talking to you, dismissing you when you tried to ask if he was okay and if he wanted to talk about it. Demeaning you with his actions. He would always be yelling at the phone. Acting bit aggressive while doing things. It was all putting you on edge.  But you said nothing. He was having a hard time, you couldn’t blame him right?
You were at one of Charles' friend's parties. Charles merely paid you any attention the whole evening. You didn’t know any of these people, and Charles didn’t introduce you to anyone unless someone asked about you. You felt very uncomfortable. It was an especially awful day. You almost decided not to come to the party today. You were home lying on your bed thinking how you will tell Charles you wanted to stay home tonight. But Charles barged into the room and asked “Why aren’t you getting ready? Fuck Y/n we can’t be late.” Somehow that expression of his made you not want you to engage in a conversation with him. 
So here you were standing uncomfortably, as your boyfriend was laughing with his friends and their spouses, completely ignoring you. You could feel yourself shaking a bit. You were anxious. Everything about his body language was making you feel worse.
By the time you got back home, the pent up emotions of the whole week got to you. You were throwing your jewelries on the dressing table. Slamming washroom and closet doors. You didn’t even look at Charles as you changed, freshened up and got ready to call it a night. Charles could sense you were mad. 
You were getting yourself a glass of water, aggressively putting down the jug when Charles walked into the kitchen. “Why are you so pissed off?”
“I’m not.” “Yes, you are. You're acting ridiculous,” You close your eyes trying not to pounce at the man in front of you in anger. “It’s nothing.”
“Why are you acting this way? You barely talked to my friends all night. You weren’t even willing to get ready for the party. That’s so insensitive of you!”
“Oh wow” you express with raised eyebrows. “I was being insensitive? What about you? How am I supposed to talk to your friends if you don’t even introduce me? You’ve been acting like an asshole all week. I’m trying to be there for you regardless, and you call me insensitive.”
“What do you mean I was being an asshole? You know I have had a hard week, if you can’t accept a little change in my mood, then how is this supposed to work between us?” “Please Charles, you know I can handle your change in moods, but you took it too far. You pay me no attention. You keep pushing me away. What am I supposed to do?” “Well if you supported me and my work then you would have found a way to be there for me”  That struck a nerve, and suddenly you were yelling everything you have been trying so hard to repress all week.
“Oh I don’t support your work?! You know what, Charles?? You're not the only one with a career. Other people have bad days too.  I don’t support you? I’ve been trying to comfort you all week. What have you done? Have you paid me any attention? Did you even notice how hard I’ve been struggling? My project fell through this morning. I’ve been having absolute shit time at work, but you don’t see me treating you with a bad attitude because of that” You yell. You were visibly shaking now. This was all getting too much.
“How am I supposed to know what goes on in your office?” he yells back. “It’s not about knowing. It’s about being there for each other! And you are never around for me anymore. I feel more alone when I’m with you.” “You are being fucking ridiculous. You can’t just put that all on me.” Charles states. You press your hands on your eyes in frustration.
“You know what. Yeah , I’m being ridiculous. And you have a race next week. Maybe I should just leave you to concentrate on your career. I can't stay here anymore." You say before leaving the kitchen and getting your purse and phone from your room.
“Y/n?! Y/n! Where are you going?” Charles follows you. You don’t say a word, you just put on your shoes and slam the door behind you. You get into your car and drive off, leaving Charles standing alone in your living room, thinking about how he just fucked up.
You were at a hotel now. It’s been 2 hours since you left the house. It was raining heavily outside. You were crying under the covers. Everything was crumbling, your career, your relationship. You felt so damn alone. You could feel your anxiety get worse by the minute. 
Suddenly you heard a knock on your hotel room door. A desperate knock. You just lay there hearing the sound. You couldn’t find the energy to get up. The knock continued. You finally got up and opened the door to find a very drenched Charles Leclerc in front of you. 
“What the fuck Charles? What Are you doing here?” You say. He was shaking from the cold. His hair all messed up, his damp hair on his face. He could see you were clearly “Y/n I’m so sorry. Please, please come back home.” He said, stepping closer to you. You backed away which broke his heart. “Y/n I’m so so sorry. You were right, I was an asshole. I was so caught up in myself, I didn't see what I was doing. I didn’t mean to ignore you. I’m so sorry I didn’t see how much my actions were affecting you. Sorry I didn’t see your struggles. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.” At this point there were tears in your eyes again. You try to turn away but he grabs hold of your hand. 
“I’m so sorry Mon Cheri. I’m so sorry I hurt you this bad. Please come home to me. I’m never gonna do this again. Please give me one more chance to be there for you. I’ll never let you feel lonely ever again.” He pulled you close to his forehead resting against yours. You were fully crying. It seemed like he was going to cry too. “Please Y/n, please.” he whispered. You shouldn’t forgive him so easily. But You felt so awful right now, so weak. Your wrapped hands around him and buried your face in his chest. Not caring that he was fully damped from the rain. You were sobbing into his chest. He leaned into your shoulders whispering sorry into your skin as he held you tight against him. 
When you stopped crying he wiped away your tears and kissed you sweetly. “Let’s go back home, love.” He gathered your things for you before driving you home. Holding your hand the whole drive.
Back at home, he led you to the bed, holding you close to his chest as you two cuddled into each other. He kept saying sorry. And you just hold on to him tightly.
“Tell me what’s been bothering you at work,” he said while kissing your hair. “It’s nothing," you say. He lifts your face up towards him by your chin. “Don’t do that. Don’t hide from me. Tell me, I want to know.” You give him a sad smile at that.
You two lay there talking late in the night. You tell him about the difficulties you were facing, the project that fell through and how worried you were about that. He held you tightly while playing with your hair, listening to your every word and comforting you through the night until you fell asleep.
When he realized you were fully unconscious, He pressed his lips on your temple whispering, “I'm never going to let you feel lonely ever again.”
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tainted-liquor · 1 year
Text
'Boys blowin' up my phone...ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ ft. 42Miles
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...˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
ingredients: salt, tears, and a speck of sugar.
tw's: unrequited love-ish?, cussing, reader has pretty priveledge
a/n: girl's girl reader! She's here for her girls n we love that
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Throughout your life, you've always kept a reputation as a pretty girl. From a pretty baby to a girl that looked like she came straight out of Pinterest. Your hair was always flawless, in your natural 4c curls or in some pretty box braids with beads. From the moment you opened your eyes and spoke your mind, you had everyone falling at your pretty little heels. Admittedly you found it partially disgusting, watching boys and men treat you like an ancient beauty and shunning other girls to bring you up. You fucking hated it.
After all, the word 'ugly' is just a bullshit concept invented by white men with an opinion. Nobody is ugly, they just aren't confined to the Euro-centric beauty standard. And who fucking needs approval from them? So your contacts stayed full, and you left almost every boy on read or delivered. To say your phone was an atomic bomb was an understatement, you picked up the habit of just...not coming off of DND!
You spent all your time with your girls, spending all your time giving them the love and care that everyone should be giving them. You cheered them on, held them when they cried, kept them in check when necessary, and doted on them just like a loving sister. Beauty meant nothing to you, and you never wanted someone to hate you based on the false 'pretty girl' title you held. You simply didn't care about the boys in B.V.A, because they all lacked common sense. All except Miles.
Now, the reason you liked him was probably stupid. You knew that good and well. You liked him because he stayed out of your face, and was one of the few who didn't talk about or make comments on any of the girls at your school. In fact, he didn't talk at all, that's why you like him so much. You've had a couple conversations with him here and there, with him nodding briefly and giving short little statements in response to yours.
"Aight, I'm gonna go to my dorm" He nodded, waving bye as he put his hoodie back over his head, walking in the direction opposite of you. And fuck, did it crush your heart. It wasn't like he was ignoring, avoiding, or ducking you. You heard through the grapevine that he just isn't into anyone, and isn't looking for a relationship at the moment. Which was fine.
But sometimes you'd wish he'd walk up to you, start a conversation, and ask to hang out. Just the two of you in the school library, walking through the many bookshelves and talking about whatever came to mind. You had three classes together, watching as he always passed you by and sat at the back of the class to doodle in his sketchbook. He never spared you a second glance, keeping his eyes glued to the ceiling or his sketchbook as you pretended to glance at your friends in the back, watching him through your peripheral. It pushed you to tears every time you returned to your dorm, mascara cascading down your face every time you thought of how he behaved as though you were invisible.
It started to hurt. He was all that plagued your mind as you digested how jaw-droppingly gorgeous he was. When the bell rang and signified it was lunch time, you grabbed your things as quickly as possible as you went to place your bag in your locker. You wanted to grab a little croissant sandwich at a nearby coffee shop to clear your head, but unbeknownst to you, it was raining. You flung open the school's dark oak double doors to see a vicious downpour, immediately feeling somber as you sighed to yourself. Well fuck you can't have shit, can you?
"Fuck." You muttered, getting ready to go back to your dorm and skip lunch. You weren't even hungry anymore as you trudged back to your shared space, plunging your face into your pillow as you sighed deeply. You scrolled through your phone, ignoring the 8+ messages you had on Instagram, viewing Miles' story, and being bombarded by Magnolia by Playboi Carti immediately. He was sitting at a cafe table, looking down at his phone while Ganke kicked his feet up on the table, a comic book resting on his face. You did nothing but like the story before powering off your phone and drifting off to sleep.
You accidentally skipped the rest of your classes for the day, but it was fine considering you only had Jewelry, creative writing, and a free. Your roommate/best friend had been chilling at her desk, doing her pre-calc homework as you heard the faintest bit of bass coming from her AirPods. You assumed she couldn't hear you, so you fell back on your bed and posted new selfies to your story. "Lila, what song should I choose?" You asked as soon as you heard the bass die out. "Uhm...Focus by HER. By the way, where you been girl? I had to go to jewelry alone" Lila asked as she looked up to the top of your shared bunk bed. "My bad, I wasn't feelin' too good so I took a nap!" You chirped as you rubbed your eyes.
"Ah, that's aight. Hope you feelin' better. By the way, I found this in the back of 7th period" She muttered, pulling a crumpled-up piece of paper from off of her desk and extending her arm straight up and back so you could grab the sheet. You held the form, immediately locking eyes with a perfect drawing of yourself. You were sitting on the lockers, knees to chest with your lavender-purple beats. "Damn, who drew this? They're good" You gasped, snapping a picture to post later. "No clue. But girl move over I gotta tell you about what happened with me and Kazir" Lila giggled as she powered off her computer, turning on the salt lamp and climbing up to your bunk.
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Taglist
@ashsostrange @chessbox @faeriesoiree333 @janaeby @fivestardior @an1bara @bachirasegoist @milesnanana77 @niaurluv
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just-a-sewer-goblin · 7 months
Text
Simon Flinches
Simon x gn!reader
Finally did it! And I looked at it so much that I hate it now, even went back in and changed some small words and stuff, but here you go. Take the flinching trope and make it Simon instead of reader flinching.
Warnings: panic attack, hurt/comfort, barely proofread because I'm too tired, reader being called "Sir" as a honorific not referring to the gender
Wordcount ~3k
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You'd say you've gotten good at navigating the minefield that is Simon. You've been together a while by now and you've learned how to handle him so he feels safe and can be himself. It's been a long process that's far from over but you wouldn't have it any other way. Simon is worth all the time, all the effort. And if it means losing a limb in the process, crossing that minefield to get closer to him is worth it.
Simon would say he's gotten good at defusing the ticking bomb that he is. He's been with you for a bit now and he's learned how to trust you more, how to be vulnerable with you. His walls are lower than they’ve ever been and it has actually lead to good things.
But sometimes things don’t go as you want. No matter how hard you try, how carefully you try to navigate Simon. Sometimes just a tiny thing, a gesture, a word, makes everything explode, traps you in that minefield without knowing where to put your foot next, how to reach out to him without stepping onto another scar, tearing it open in a violent explosion.
Like now. It’s so goddamn stupid you could kick yourself. You've been arguing about whose turn it was to choose the movie. Something so insignificant, so trivial. But it's been a long day for both of you and what started as a joking argument has turned into an actual one and now you don't know how to stop it. Your voices are raised, you’re both shouting the frustrations of the day at each other. You hate arguing with Simon, just as he hates arguing with you.
You know it’s a normal part of any relationship, but with Simon it scares you. With Simon you never know when it could turn into him leaving. Into him pulling away. Yet you find yourself unable to stop your frustration from dripping from your tongue like venom. Simon’s not doing any better.
"Your movie choices are questionable anyway!", Simon throws into your face. "I suffer through them just for you. But they're horrible really! They all suck. I want to watch something that actually entertains me!"
Okay, that stung. Just a few days ago you'd shared one of you favorite movies with him. A movie that changed something in you when you first watched it, a movie that slightly tilted your world view. You didn't expect him to like it but that stung. And in your mind his sentence turns into you not being entertaining enough.
So you step forward, trying to hold back tears. "Yeah, as if your", you jab your finger at his chest, Simon flinches back "movie choices -"
You freeze. He'd taken a step back, raising his hands to shield himself and your heart drops, shattering at your feet. His big eyes are watching your next move in apprehension.
It should be ridiculous, really, someone as capable as Simon, a trained soldier, flinching over you putting your finger on his chest. As if you could actually inflict harm on him. As if you wouldn't rather die than hurt him.
But it's not ridiculous. It's a fucking fist to the face.
The sudden quiet makes your ears ring and Simon doesn't seem to be any better. His chest is heaving. His arms are still up, shoulders hunched, his entire stance small and scared. He’s ready to block your blows, ready to deal with you finally putting your hands on him.
His breathing is loud and quick and you want to guide him to calmness but you don’t know how when you caused his distress in the first place. This is new territory. A new step you took that landed you directly over a mine and it’s exploding right now. Exploding in slow motion, letting you see the details of everything you’ve built with Simon shattering and crumbling into dust.
Then his entire demeanor changes and you almost get whiplash. In a flash he’s squared his feet, narrowed his eyes and dropped his shoulders. His hands have gone down but they’re fists at his sides and there’s nothing relaxed about his new stance. You just watched every wall he’s let down for you come back up in the matter of a second.
His cold gaze almost hurts, his eyes distant and calculating, trying to guess your next move. Like a shield of ice that slipped into place before his soul, keeping it hidden from you.
"Simon -" It's whispered. A plea.
He takes a deep breath, rolling his shoulders and then starts walking towards you with purpose. For an irrational second you think he’s going to hit you for scaring him. You think he’s going to get revenge on you for everything that’s ever been done to him.
The next second you’re ashamed for even thinking that. He’s not going for you. No, it’s worse. He’s going for the door of the living room behind you.
You’re helplessly watching, your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth, throat dry, almost painful. Your heart is hammering so hard it feels like it’s trying break your ribs from the inside. Trying to break free so it can follow Simon.
You’re frozen as you watch him leave the room. Every single muscle in his body is coiled tight, ready to whip around and stop any threat. Stop you should you so much as breathe too hard.
Holding your breath, tears gather in your eyes, dripping wetly down your cheeks. This is it, you’re waiting for the telltale sound of the door to the apartment opening and closing, Simon walking out of your life because this is irreparable.
The relieve you feel when you hear the bedroom door instead almost brings you to your knees. Then you hear the lock to the room turn and your heart breaks all over again. He’s locked you out of his safe space.
Fuck.
You sink down onto the floor and start crying in earnest. You never wanted to scare him. Never wanted to provoke that reaction. You had only pointed your finger!
You’re not even sure if you’re crying over what you’d just done or if your tears are for Simon, how he must be feeling right now. The one person he’s let in raising their hand at him, making him feel unsafe.
He’d thought you’d hit him. He’d thought you’d put your hands on him in a harmful way.
The pain coursing through you makes you breathless as you cry for Simon and everything he’s endured, as you cry over what you’d just ruined.
Hopefully he can’t hear you from the bedroom. You don’t want to cry over this, it’s not your place to cry when Simon is the one hurting. But you’re so scared of losing him of losing your best friend of losing your forever that you can’t help it.
In a weird twisted, crooked way his reaction is prove of how much he trusts you. Trusted you. He’d trusted you enough to let his guard down so far that a gesture of yours caught him off guard. You’ve never seen him so surprised by something someone did, his eyes always all over everyone. He’s always so aware of everyone and everything.
The fact that he felt safe enough to even be caught off guard shows just how close he’d let you. It was a privilege, a gift. A fragile little thing with broken wings in your palms and now you’ve crushed it.
You try to calm your breathing more. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Deep, slow. The way you instruct Simon to breathe when he’s battling his demons.
Demons he might be battling right now. And suddenly your tears run dry and you jump to your feet. This really isn’t the time to feel sorry for yourself. So you get a slippery grip on your emotions and push them back for a later time.
Rushing to the bedroom, you raise your hand and pause. You can hear Simon’s steps in the room; he’s walking in circles like a caged animal. You’ll be damned if you don’t at least try to help, doesn’t matter if this is your fault in the first place.
You knock.
His steps halt.
And then they approach the door, soft thuds drawing closer, you can see the door handle turn but it doesn’t open. And then he’s frantically shaking it, apparently not remembering locking it.
“It’s locked!” His voice sounds so confused and scared that your chest feels like it’s caving in.
“You locked it, baby. You can unlock it. The key is on your side.”, you try to say in a calm soothing tone but you’re pretty sure your voice is shaking.
The turning of the key is frantic and the door gets ripped open and then you’re face to face with Simon and his eyes are wide, flitting all over the room, disoriented. His chest is still heaving, even worse than before, and when you see him shaking, you know there’s no stopping it.
Simon’s eyes lock on you and he doubles over, his hands clawing at his chest and neck, he's breathing too hard, always in until his chest must feel like it’s exploding.
“Can’t… breathe…”, he chokes out, eyes utterly terrified, tears starting to drip as he’s frantically trying to breathe and not drown in his feelings.
You don’t know if this is a ‘touch helps’ kind of panic attack or a ‘don’t you dare touch me’ panic attack and you’re scanning over him trying to guess, when his hand grips your shoulder in an iron grip and his wide eyes look straight through you.
He’s still hyperventilating and your heart seems hell bent on matching his hectic panting. Grabbing his arms, you try to steady him as he goes down, his knees buckling. He’s heavy in your hold and your muscles scream but you put your all into preventing him from falling and hurting himself in the process. At least you manage to slow his fall and then he’s on the floor on his hands and knees. One of his hands tries to dig his fingers into the floor as the other fists his shirt, damn near ripping it.
You have to do something even if you don’t know if it’ll help or make things worse. There's no forgiving yourself if you don’t at least try, even if it’s fishing in the dark. If it doesn’t work, you can change the approach. But doing nothing won’t help anyway. So you wrap your arms around him. “I’m going to lay you down, baby. I’m going to hold you.”
You don’t think he hears you but maneuvering him without telling him feels wrong anyway. And then you do exactly as you said, you tug Simon with all your strength towards you and he topples over onto his side, landing on top of you instead of the floor and you’re glad you’re there to soften his fall. Even if you’re pretty sure you’ll have bruises from it.
Immediately you wriggle partially out from under him, keeping him on your thighs, in your lap and you wrap your arms around him.
“I’ve got you, Simon. I’m here. You’re in our apartment. Everything is okay. You’re safe, baby.”
Tears silently start dripping fdown your face again, when he curls in on himself clawing at the floor and you know he will black out if he doesn’t get his breaths more even.
In a desperate attempt you put your hand over his chest and push. “Simon, breathe out, baby, come on. Out.”
You exhale in an exaggerated way next to his ear and you think you hear him exhaling the tiniest bit, before he’s sucking air in in in. But that’s something. He can hear you, he reacts, which means he’s allowing you to guide him.
You press again. “Good, again. Ouuuuuut.”, you exhale and this time he manages to get a bit more air out. The way your top is sticking to you with sweat makes you shiver but you don’t give any attention to your own body being stressed. It will calm down when Simon does.
You continue. You don’t know how long you talk to him like that, reassurances between commands to breathe. It’s probably only been a few minutes, but you’re exhausted like you’ve been going for hours, fighting for every exhale until finally his breathing is back to a rhythm that’s as close to normal as it can get in this moment.
The exhaustion rolls over you as if you’ve had the attack yourself and your body curls over him, resting your head on him as he shakes in your lap and breathes.
The thumping of his heart under your cheek is still way too quick and he’s shaking like a fucking leaf, so you drag your tired body out from under him and turn him onto his back. Goddamnit he’s heavy.
Looking at his face resupplies your tears. His cheeks are wet, he’s pale as a sheet and his arms are clutched tightly to him as he continues shaking. You know he’s somewhat aware of his surroundings again but he’s still victim to his mind and body.
Remembering what he’s asked for before in moments when he’s needed grounding, you crawl over him and lay down with your full weight. Your head rests on his chest, near his shoulders and his arms, curled over his chest, dig into your own uncomfortably but that doesn’t matter right now.
Your own body shakes with his as you raise your hands, gently lifting his head - after a silent “please” because he resisted for a moment until his eyes focused on you - and pull a rug closer so he can rest his head on that instead of the hard floor.
Your entire body sags with relief when he pulls his arms out from under you and wraps them around you instead. His hold is tight as if he’s trying to make your bodies merge into one. As if he’s trying to push you into his ribcage to keep your right next to his heart.
His heartbeat slowly returns to normal under you and yours follows his lead. When he lifts his head and presses a kiss to your forehead, you curl your fist tighter into his shirt and finally try to push yourself off of him. The slight tightening of his hold on you makes you settle again.
The broad palms of his hands are warm and soothing as they pass back and forth over your back. You press your lips to his chest through his shirt and his next exhale is long and shaky.
He moves, jostling you slightly, and you try to get up again, but he doesn’t let you. His voice is low and tired as he says: “Hold on, lovie.”
You do and he sits up, maneuvering you in his arms until he’s got one arm around your back and one under your knees. Then he stands up and even though his movements are slow and exhausted the little to no effort with which he handles your weight still steals your breath.
His heavy steps take you both back into your bedroom and he puts you down on your shared bed, crawling in with you immediately.
You turn onto your side, as does he and then you’re looking at each other, the exhaustion on his face making you feel your own all the more.
Simon moves his hand, covers one of yours and squeezes twice. Immediately you return the gesture. A small sleepy smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. The reassurance behind that gesture making both of you melt into the mattress.
Still there’s so much talking to do and you end up whispering “We need to talk about this, Si.” into the small space between you, where your joined hands lie.
He brings your hand up to his lips and presses a kiss to each of your fingers, before letting it fall back onto the covers, still in his hold. His eyes are exhausted but you know you can’t sleep without having discussed what happened.
“I need you to know, Si”, you swallow against the tightness in your throat “I would never, ever hurt you. I’d rather chop off my own hand than touch you in a way that could cause you harm. I’m so sorry, Simon, I-“
“I know.”
You shut up, big eyes on his and he smiles, kissing the back of your hand this time.
“I know.”, he repeats and practically watches the gears in your head turn. So he takes a deep gulp of air and continues. “It’s not you, ‘luv. It’s the fucking past. Not your fault that a damn finger is all it took today to set me off. It’s my brain being a fucker.”
You’re so relieved you could cry again. He didn’t think you’d hurt him. His brain just didn’t make the distinction between the finger belonging to you or someone else at that moment. In that moment it was only a hand raised against him.
Still, maybe there’s a way to prevent that in the future? So you tentatively ask: “What can I do so you feel comfortable trusting me more? So you don’t feel like you’re endangered by a gesture from me?”
“I trust you.”, he states calmly and you shake your head.
“There has to be something I can do better. So it’s easier for you to trust-“ The way Simon takes your joined hands and brings them up to his throat, abruptly shuts you up. He's pressing your palm against it so it would be easy to squeeze and hurt and – you try to pull it back and he forces your hand harder against his throat with his own. You freeze completely.
“I trust you.”
Your eyes widen and fly to his from where they’d been locked onto his throat and the way your hand is curled against it in a chokehold.
His eyebrows are drawn together and his eyes fixated on you, willing you to understand. The soft caress of his thumb on the back of your hand - a hand that could cut off his oxygen if you wanted - makes your heart squeeze painfully in your chest.
“Okay.”, you whisper and he finally drops his hand, allows you to slowly draw your hand back from his throat. Your eyes are still widened and lock onto his neck again. Leaning forward you press a kiss to the delicate skin over his Adam’s apple and feel him swallow heavily under your lips.
When you look at hom again his eyebrows are still furrowed and warm palm finds your cheek. “I’m sorry, I reacted like that to something so small.”
You shake your head and nuzzle into his hold, giving a little kiss to his thumb. There's desperation in his eyes and you whish you could kiss it away.
“I’m sorry, ‘m all kinds of fucked up, ‘luv. Wouldn’t fault you if it’s too much. If you want to –“ Your hand covers his mouth and his eyes betray the surprise at that gesture.
“Don’t you dare, Si. Don’t you dare even say that.  As if I’d want that. You shouldn’t even think that. The only reason why I mind the panic attacks is because I know how heavily they weigh on you. You can flinch, you can scream, you can break, I don’t mind. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t enjoy seeing you hurt, if I could I’d make it stop, but I’ll take that as long as I have you in my arms at the end of the day.”
His hand gently draws your hand away from his mouth and he whispers: “But I’m a handful, lovie. How can you not mind the hassle?”
You smile at him, a little mischievously. “Good thing that I’ve got two hands then, baby.”
He snorts, while his entire face softens, and draws you in closer, you're pressed into his chest, his arms around you and he showers your head with kiss after kiss.
“I thought you were going to leave me.”, comes your muffled voice abruptly halting all of Simon's movement. Gently he pushes you away a bit so you can see his sincerity when he answers.
“Never. As long as you’ll have me.”
Your eyes water and he tilts your head up, with the tip of his finger under your chin, and presses the softest of kisses to your lips. “Don’t care about the flinches and panic attacks and hard moments as long as I get to be in your arms at the end of the day.”
You laugh, when he uses your words against you, a cracked, teary laugh and kiss him again.
“Fuck I need a nap.”, he groans once you’ve managed to stop spelling your love against the lips of each other. You giggle.
“We both do, but drink something first. You’ll wake up with a headache if you don’t.”, you say and he groans with the effort of rolling over and drinking out of the bottle on his nightstand.
He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you, what he did to find someone so caring. Who looks at his hard exterior and handles it with soft touches and patience. He doesn’t know what he did right in his life, because he for sure can’t remember ever doing anything right, to find someone like you. He’s not going to let you go and if he has to beg at some point, then he’ll strangle his pride with his own two hands and do so.
When he faces you again he grins. “Mission accomplished, Sir.”
You groan and hide your face in your hands, missing Simon’s soft expression at your flustered state. God you’re so cute. Especially when you’re voice comes out all embarrassed when you say: “You can’t say that! You know what it does to me when you call me that!”
He wraps his arms around you again, pulling you close, your bodies fit to each other, immediately finding comfort in each other. And he can feel a wave of calmness crash over him, making him sleepy and slow. “Ya can do something ‘bout that when we wake up. Don’t think my soldier’s up to doing any long marches right now.”
He’s expecting it when your hand wriggles free and slaps his shoulder. “Simon!” You can feel his upper body shake with silent laughter.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Si.”
Your eyes are heavy, your muscles finally relaxing after all that tension of earlier. Your bodies melt into each other. You can feel Simon’s breathing getting slower, a telltale sign of him falling asleep.
“I love you.”, you mumble again before sleep takes you.
Simon’s too far gone to reply but you feel the two squeezes of his hand on you, pressing his love directly into your skin.
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musaslullaby · 25 days
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Enemies on road
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Carlos Sainz x fem reader
Summary: A fierce rivalry on the Formula 1 track turns into a moment of forgiveness and unexpected romance between two drivers.
Warning: fluff
Masterlist
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The tension was at its peak. My foot pressed down on the accelerator as if it were the only purpose in my life. Driving made me feel alive; I didn't care about the risk I was taking. I was ready to accept death in a Formula 1 car, convinced that it was the most dignified way to honor the sport I had devoted myself to with passion.
"Can I fight?" I asked, focused. Even if the engineers had said no, I would have done it anyway. I would have worn those tires down to the last shred.
"It's all yours." The affirmative response hit my ears, accompanied by a surge of adrenaline. My mind was focused, my hands trembling slightly from the strength with which I gripped the steering wheel.
I swerved left, trying to slip into the space Carlos Sainz had left unguarded. In a matter of moments, we were wheel to wheel, our cars sparking as we raced down the straight. I increased speed, approaching 350 km/h, but he wouldn't back down. The more I pushed, the more he pushed; he either mimicked me or tried to defend himself with all his might.
"What the hell!" I shouted, slamming my hands violently against the steering wheel. That tiny bit of distraction was enough for the car to veer in the opposite direction, completely stopping its response to my commands. A sudden wave of fear swept over me as I slammed on the brakes with all the strength I had, but it was all in vain—the car kept gaining speed.
A large cloud of dust rose, and when I opened my eyes, I found myself against the barrier. From what I could see in the cockpit, the car had sustained severe damage.
"Are you okay?" my engineer asked, genuine concern in his voice.
"I'm fine, but they should teach that idiot Sainz how to drive, because apparently, he's seriously lacking," I replied, fully unleashing my anger. At that moment, all I could see was red, fiercer than the flames of hell.
I unbuckled the steering wheel with superhuman strength and climbed out of the cockpit. Like an idiot, I waited by my car, which was completely wrecked from the violent impact, for the safety car. But what bothered me the most was that this two-bit driver was still racing and had taken my damn third place.
When I returned to the pits after the medical check, I felt all the cameras on me, but I had no desire to talk to the press.
"Get them out of here before I scream at them," I said, agitated, as I headed towards my cabin without looking anyone in the face.
I collapsed onto the blue leather couch and let out a scream of frustration, which did nothing to improve my state of mind.
I was covered in bruises, in pain, and felt like a ticking time bomb ready to explode. I wanted to be alone, but I didn't even have that luck, because the race was over and my duties with the media awaited me. How I hated press conferences, and even more, those stupid journalists who ask malicious questions just to get a scoop, or whatever the hell they call it.
A very kind girl, with a welcoming smile, showed me where to sit. Of course, these press people had organized everything to perfection. When I sat down on that uncomfortable little couch, I found myself facing Carlos's playful grin, invading my personal space.
"Wipe that horrible grin off your face and move away. Isn't it enough that you invaded my personal space with that damn car?" I whispered nervously, so only he could hear, and I wouldn’t get scolded by my team for my foul and impolite language.
"Admit it, you didn't mind," he responded, raising his eyebrows suggestively.
I wanted to tear him apart, make him take back everything he had said, but they handed us microphones and started the usual round of stupid questions.
As soon as the last question was answered, I was the first to jump up and walk as fast as possible away from that room full of people; I almost felt like I was suffocating. Someone called my name from afar, but I ignored it.
I returned to my small, cozy room. In my head, I had planned everything: I would stay there for the next two hours, so no one could interrogate me or even speak to me.
But after just a few seconds, someone knocked on the door. At first, I didn't want to waste my breath, but then the voice that spoke to me was so sweet, sincere, and regretful that my heart involuntarily softened.
Slowly, I opened the door and found the Spaniard standing there, his eyes red and his spirits low.
"Can I come in, please?" he asked in a barely audible whisper. With a nod, I stepped aside, letting him in.
"Did you come to make fun of me?" I asked with a defeated sigh, collapsing onto the couch.
"I'm sorry, I went too far. I didn't mean to push you off the track; I took a risk and was stupid. I'm sorry," his voice was calm, shaken by some tremors of sadness and genuine regret, in stark contrast to the tone he had used during the conference.
"You know I would never intentionally hurt you?" he added, with an obvious note of hesitation in his voice.
I lowered my gaze. It was too much to process; too many emotions were swirling around, creating a tsunami inside me. I had been furious with him, but now I just wanted to drown in one of his bear hugs and sink into his soft lips.
A gentle and delicate touch snapped me out of my thoughts. He was there, in front of me, looking at me with those brown eyes full of love and guilt. I couldn't stand it; I couldn't see him like that. I pulled him towards me, slowly. We looked at each other for a few seconds, our gazes traveling from our lips to our eyes, and then I felt the warmth of his breath brushing my face.
We gave in. I held him tightly as his lips met mine in a kiss full of apologies and a need for love. He wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me in a tender embrace. Finally, we pulled away, not because we wanted to end the kiss, but because of the lack of air.
Carlos pressed his lips to my forehead. "You forgave me?"
"Just this once," I said, breathless. I saw a happy and calm smile spread across his face, and I would have given anything to see it more often and protect him from the entire world that didn't believe in us.
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