#it's not too important but it's important to me

[thatfeyboy]

I think a big reason trans men do not appear in media as often as other queer identities, as well as historical erasure to a point, is because it goes against many women's experience with challenging bigotry. I cannot tell you how many pieces of media exist with "girl dresses as boy to get Privilege or Respect she wasn't given before, but has to reveal she is A Woman by the end as she has to prove women can do The Thing TM too and it's more 'honest' to her identity'". With a lot of trans masc/man historical figures there is constant fighting over whether it was really a women fighting the patriarchy and not a guy struggling with being trans. There is a book about "female husbands and the women that love them" for Christ's sake. We are constantly interpreted as on the border of being super hurt/proactive women for the sake of that class's conscience, and anything else is "taking away" from women's more important issues, supposedly. I'm just tired of all afab people having trouble with their identity being funneled into the "women good, patriarchy/men bad" pipeline or else. It feels like me talking about being a man, even in a trans context, is unacceptable because it *might affect a women at some point

[moonshere]

I’ll be honest I get soooo giddy whenever an ISAT fanwork depicts that the Mirabelle/Siffrin relationship is equally as important as the Isabeau/Siffrin one. Like, it’s not just the romantic relationship that is The Most Important thing narratively+literally, but the platonic one is equally as important too!

[nightingale-prompts]

Deathday Party

Part of this post series > link

Tim had no idea he was being courted by Danny and was making his way to an official engagement at this rate. What he did know was that Danny had invited him to an important party at the mansion of none other then Vlad Masters.

Danny had mentioned that his family and Masters had a rocky past but it had gotten better before he left for university. Tim wasn't convinced due to the stories Danny had offhandly mentioned. The guy had tried to out Danny to his parents and rallied the town against him. So excuse Tim for not wanting Danny to go back to a homophobic town like that and a bastard who did something so petty just because a kid's mom wouldn't sleep with you.

But Danny was his friend. The only normal friend he had who treated him like this. Sure he really likes giving gifts and has a fascination for flowers but that's all the more reason to look after him. It was pure luck that Tim befriended him before a cult did.

Tim was still going to supportive and still needed to make it up to Danny for not visiting Amity Park last time. So he packed and boarded the plane a few days before the party.

Danny began introducing Tim to everyone in his family. For the most part, it was a warm welcome. Danny's dad told him that they would have to sleep in separate rooms because "He knows how boys could be and there will be no funny business."

Tim was indignant but reminded himself to be polite. Danny's dad may not be the most accepting of LGBT people but this was his home.

Danny only blushed and brushed his dad off, after all, he and Tim hadn't even kissed yet.

Danny's friends were cool though. Sam was definitely the source of Danny's gothic tendencies. She and Danny discussed herbs, crystals, and graveyards together while Tim got to know Tucker.

The next day they went to the Masters' estate and Tim met Danny's other family. Dani or Elle was Danny's little sister or cousin or something. It was confusing but she immediately took a liking to Tim.

"Ooo, he's cute~ You dont mind sharing right Danny?" She teased linking arms with Tim.

"Knock it off Elle. He's too old for you anyway and if Vlad heard you he'd set Tim on fire." Danny admonished her pulling her off by the hoodie.

Tim didn't catch that Danny was being completely serious about the fire part.

Vlad Masters would be out of the house until the party that night but the mansion was being set up for the event. Apparently, the "Deathday" party was a bigger deal than Tim thought. The guest list was a mile long.

From what Tim gathered a death day was a celebration of life after a near-death experience. Like if someone flatlined during surgery and are brought back. Its actually a pretty smart way to deal with trauma by making the event a reason to celebrate.

Tim had heard from Danny of the day he was electrocuted and that it changed his life. He definitely had the scar to prove it. Danny had gotten a UV tattoo over it or something because it glowed faintly at night. It was pretty cool.

That evening Tim was handed his costume for the event. The party had a royal theme, something that didn't seem like Danny's idea. Still, Danny's silver and ivy green dublette looked...pretty good. Tim dressed in a similar red and gold suit.

"You look good." Danny pulled out an ornate emerald cravat pin and pinned it to Tim label.

"You too," Tim said without thinking but Danny smiled before going back to putting the finishing touches on their outfits.

It was...intimate to say the least as Danny pulled back Tim's hair. He fastened their capes and a (fake) dagger to his belt.

Danny put put on a subtle layer of makeup. Darkening his eyes, cheeks, and lips. It gave him a pale and deathly appearance.

"I have to look my best. I don't want anyone to think I'm just using you as arm candy." Danny laughed.

"That implies that you are using me as that already." Tim jested but stopped when Danny pointed to the makeup trey. "You're joking."

"Im not. It's an important event and this isn't Gotham. There are alot of people i want you to meet. Just play along." Danny begged.

Tim agreed letting Danny put on a bit of black and red makeup.

"Aww, Tim. You look absolutely ghastly. Your funeral ready." Danny gushed as he turned to grab the last things they needed. Two circlets with stars emblems embedded in them.

Tim laughed internally. Danny was always to positive Tim forgot just how goth he was. Tim knew he shouldn't be surpised.

Tim and Danny walked to the mansion's ballroom which was full of guests dressed similarly to them. The room glowed eerily under green-flamed torches. Very gothic. On second thought this suited Danny.

A staff member er...servant announced their arrival.

"His Highness the High Prince of the realm of infinite space and his guest."

None other than Vlad Masters approached. He had thrown this party for his godson and wanted everything perfect. He eyed Tim critically before speaking to Danny.

"Daniel I heard about your...friend from Elle. Its that what he is?" Masters studied.

"He's my-"

"Boyfriend! I'm his boyfriend." Tim interrupted. He was not going to let this homophonic piece of shit undermine Danny's sexuality again and try to embarrass him. Especially on such an I'm day. " Tim Drake, son of Bruce Wayne and head of Wayne Industries. I've heard a LOT about you Mr.Masters."

After a moment Vlad nodded and smiled.

"You've chosen well. He's quite the catch my boy. Happy Death Day." Vlad patted Danny on the back before going to mingle with Danny's parents who where tearing up the cheese platter.

Danny blinked owlishly at Tim. Tim had never used that word yet, Danny thought they were not at that stage yet.

"Sorry Danny, i got caught up." Tim sighed.

"You know he's going to tell everyone right?" Danny laughed "I hope you're ready."

Danny dragged Tim to meet his ghost friends for the rest of the evening between dancing and eating.

Tim had fun meeting Danny's fellow goth friends who complimented him a lot. They were definitely strange but they really loved Danny. The whole party was like a Renaissance festival meets one of those novels that Jason loved. Actually, Jason would be so jealous of him right now. Tim made sure to take pictures. Some of them came out fuzzy but it was enough to make Jason mad.

[barcaatthemoon]

little one || alexia putellas x child!reader ||

Alexia brings you with her to Barcelona training sessions.

You sat happily kicking your legs back and forth as you waited for your mother's teammates to get on the field. You were dressed up in your little barcelona kit that was an exact replica of what the coaches wore. Unofficially, you were the team's fun coordinator and official motivator. Everybody already knew that you were Alexia's sole reason for being, and making you happy was a good reason to win games.

"Bon dia," you greeted each player as she walked past you. Most of them gave you a high five or fist bump as they repeated the sentiment to you. A few of the girls were special, and the special ones got to hug you or in mapi and pina's cases, toss you up in the air for a bit. Those two were the most fun in your eyes, and you always gave them high marks on your little clipboard. As much as you loved your Mami, she rarely received high marks on the fun clipboard.

Mami's job wasn't to have fun, not even at home. Olga was your fun mom, even though you knew she wasn't really your mom like Alexia was. She was technically just Mami's girlfriend, but you thought she was like your other mother. Olga took care of you, made you good tasting breakfast, picked you up from school some days, and gave you the best goodnight hugs and kisses in the whole entire world, not that you'd ever tell Jenni that.

"Hija, come here, you're getting red," Mami told you. Since you came into practice with her, you'd been out on the field for a couple hours already. At first, you were sleeping, but then the sun became too bright for you to sleep around. You wanted to go inside again where it was cooler and you could nap, but it was more important to spend time with your big friends.

Besides, you knew that if you found the right girl on the right day, you'd get a nap. You scanned around as they practiced to figure out who your target was. Vicky and her group were out immediately, the younger players running around like you did after Lucy and Mapi fed you candies. Mami didn't like you to distract the girls with nap time, so you knew to stay away from her. Irene gave good cuddles, but she didn't look tired. Just as you were about to give up, you noticed Caro yawn.

Caro wasn't your favorite, she wasn't even really one of the special girls who gave you hugs. Mami explained that she wasn't Spanish and that in her country, people weren't as friendly. You thought it was funny that she was girlfriends with Marta, who was one of the friendliest people you had ever met, after Jenni and Leila, of course. Despite all of that, you knew that Caro would be your naptime partner. All you had to do was wait for the perfect moment to arise.

…

"Come on, she's a baby! You can totally curl her," Mapi huffed as Ona struggled to complete her last rep of "Bebita curls" as Mapi called them. "Ugh, let her down. I'll put in an extra set if that's okay with you, Bebita?"

"Actually, I need to find Caroline," you told Mapi. She looked surprised, but let you down anyway. "Oh, and it's okay Ona. Olga doesn't carry me around anymore unless it's piggy back rides. She says I'm too big for her arms now."

"Pssh, they're just weak. Give it time, your Mami will whip her into shape too." With that, Mapi patted you on the butt as she turned you towards where the Scandinavian players were working out together. You felt a little nervous approaching them, they were scarier without their Spanish counterparts. With Mapi, Aitana, and Marta gone, you realized just how big these women were. They were like giants, and despite the fact that you knew they were friendly, they scared you sometimes.

"Ahem, Miss Caroline, will you read my naptime book to me please?" You stood before them with your hands behind your back, fidgeting them silently. Fidgeting like that wasn't a good habit, at least that's what your Mami told you. You thought it was fine, especially since Abuela Eli told you it was normal.

"Go on, it's a big deal," Ingrid told her friend. Caro looked between Ingrid and Frido, who both seemed to share Ingrid's outlook. You were Alexia's baby, and everybody knew that, and normally you flocked to the other Spanish players. Caro felt like she was out of her depth doing this, but she went with you anyway because that was what you wanted.

"What do I do?" Caro asked you. You pointed over to the little spot that was made up for two people to lay down at. It was pretty late in practice, and if you didn't nap here, Mami would make you nap at home when you'd want to play. If you napped here, then you could play games when you got back home with Mami.

"Lay on the big pillow. You can use the blue blanket, I like the yellow one anyway. I'll lay down with you, and then you read my book to me. The English words are hard for me, I can only read Spanish," you told her. Caro nodded and did what you told her to. She wasn't a very good cuddler, but she was warm and didn't push you off of her when you got comfortable. You also liked her voice, and within a few minutes, you were asleep with Caro holding you protectively.

…

Some days, you were completely lost in your own little world. Other days, you watched everyone and everything around you. Today was a watchful day for you. Mami had an away game, so you'd ride with Abuela Eli and Tia Alba to the game. It was in Madrid, and the fans could get rowdy when they saw the Barcelona bus, and Mami hated bringing you that way.

"Hola Mapi," you said nonchalantly. Mapi gasped and looked around with her mouth agape. She was utterly shocked that you had detected her before she had managed to scare you. Nevermind that she had tried that trick countless times before without it actually working well. And the days it did work ended with you crying because Mapi scared you, and Mapi crying because she felt bad.

"Bebita, you must have spider senses for something. It is amazing, but be careful, you don't want to become a robot like your Mami," Mapi teased. She dug her fingers into your sides as you squirmed and laughed. You started to swat her away, and much to your luck and Mapi's chargin, Ingrid came over and interrupted.

"Hi (y/n)," Ingrid greeted you. She was kind of funny in that she rarely called anybody by their nicknames. Ana hadn't been like that, and sometimes you really missed the tall blonde lady, but Mami and Irene let you talk to her on the phone with the promise that you not tell Ingrid or Mapi. Mami didn't want them to get upset, even though they all used to be teammates with each other.

"Hola Ingrid." You leaned your head all the way back to see Ingrid. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead before she joined you on the grass. "Whatcha doing?"

"Sitting with you," Ingrid answered. She tapped the tip of your nose, causing you to erupt into a little fit of giggles. Mapi groaned and muttered something under her breath. You didn't catch most of it, but you definitely heard a couple of words your Mami made you promise not to say until you were much older, and absolutely never in the presence of Eli. "Is that okay, tiny?"

"Yes, I like you Ingrid. You're nice and smell nice," you said. Ingrid laughed, especially once Mapi looked over at the two of you with a weird face.

"You never tell me that I smell nice, Bebita," Mapi huffed. You furrowed your eyebrows and leaned over towards Mapi. Hesitantly, you sniffled, pleasantly surprised that she sort of smelled like Ingrid. You knew it was because she spent a lot of time cuddling with Ingrid or hugging her. Mapi always smelled a little bit like whatever girl she was dating, just like Jenni used to smell like your Mami and Leila had lots of smells.

"You smell a little like Ingrid, but not as good," you told her honestly. Mapi sputtered and huffed, clearly about to start ranting when the big coach's whistle blew for practice to resume. "Play good and have fun. I don't have my checker board today, but I'm watching."

"Aye, aye captain!" Mapi saluted you. Ingrid pressed a kiss to your cheek as a goodbye before she dragged Mapi back over to the rest of the team. You don't know if they actually had fun because you went right back to playing with the grass and occasionally waving at your Mami when she stopped.

…

"Hija, please," Alexia pleaded with you. You had fallen asleep in the film room, and Alexia had hoped to just pass you onto Alba, but things were not going according to plan at all. You wanted to either go home with Olga, who was in Madrid already for work, or Alexia, who wouldn't let you ride all the way to Madrid with her on the team bus. "You can't go with me."

"Then I want Mama!" You were practically sobbing and stomping your feet. People could see you, but they tried to move onto the bus like seeing you so upset didn't break their hearts. "Mama! Mama! Mama! Not you, Mama!"

"What about Tia Alba and Abuela Eli, don't you want to see them too?" Alexia asked. She knelt down in front of you and tried to reach out, but you jerked away like her mere presence offended you. "Hija, I'm not telling you anymore. You're going with Tia Alba to my Mami's. They'll bring you to Madrid tomorrow, and you can see Mama then."

"Ale, look at her. It might be easier to just have Olga pick her up from the hotel," Alba reasoned. "Or, I could go up a night early and she can stay there."

"No, you're not leaving Mami to drive all that way by herself. We made this plan weeks ago, and it's not changing because someone is upset," Alexia said. Alba glanced between you and her older sister, amazed by how stubborn both of you were being. If there had ever been a doubt that you were Alexia's baby, it was cleared up with moments like these.

"Call Olga and see what she thinks," Alba said. At that, Alexia paused, knowing what her girlfriend would say. Olga was constantly getting at Alexia for being too stuck in her ways. Alexia was trying to get better about being flexible when it came to plans, but it was hard.

"N-no, that's not necessary," Alexia stammered a little. Alba was glad to see Alexia give up a little as she walked over towards you. "Mama's been gone for a long time, hasn't she?"

"Y-yeah," you answered. You weren't sobbing anymore, but you were definitely still crying quite a bit. "'miss her."

"I miss her too, a lot. I'm sorry that I didn't think about your feelings. I didn't even think to ask if you wanted to come with me, I just made plans for you to go with Alba. Abuela Eli misses you a lot, so I thought you'd want to spend time with them. How about you go with them for this, and next time I have to go far away, you and Olga can have a girls' weekend?" It wasn't a great compromise, but Alexia was hoping that it would work for you. You seemed to be contemplating it, which Alexia took as a good sign.

"This time I'll go with Tia Alba," you told her. Alexia sighed in relief as she wrapped her arms around you. "Bye Mami."

"Bye Bebita. Temo amo," Alexia whispered into your hairline as she peppered your face with kisses. You began to squirm away from her, but Alexia had a tight hold on you.

"Come on, let's go. Just wait until you see what Abuela Eli made for dinner," Alba said as she pried Alexia's arms off of you. You gave your Mami a kiss before you went with Alba for the night.

"Do you think Abuela Eli will let us all sleep in the big bed together?" you asked as you swung Alba's arm. She hated it, especially whenever Alexia used to do it to her, but with you, she found it kind of endearing.

"Definitely, I bet she's already got your teddies laid up in bed," Alba answered. You were so happy and excited that you hopped up randomly as Alba led you to her car. You sat on her shoulders and watched as the Barcelona bus left, and with it, your Mami for her big game. You didn't really care to watch it, but you were excited for being passed around everybody's laps for cuddles during the game.

[monzabee]

the alchemy - cs55

masterlist || part 1 || part 3 ||

Summary: The one where not Carlos, nor you, have the power to fight the alchemy. 

Pairing: dad!carlos sainz x mom!reader 

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: absolute fluff (been a while), possible ovary explosion bc of dad!carlos, cursing (because i use way too many f-bombs in real life too), kids (apparently, it’s a tw for some people), i tried hating charles but it’s not happenning so a cheater redemption arc (kinda, he's trying okay??)

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! first of all, thank you all so much for the love you showed for part one, i really appreciate it and i'm sorry that this part has been a little delayed, but i just wanted it to be just as drama-filled as the first part whilst still being a bit lighter so i hope i found the right balance for it. while we love dad!carlos, i felt like charles still deserved a chance to redeem himself and come to his senses so we love that redemption arc for him (well, kinda guess?). also, i know we have one more part of this little mini-series to go, a social media au (yay!), but i just wanted to let you all know, once again, that i do not have a taglist, and no i will not be making one!! however, i do appreciate all your support and comments, and please do let me know what you think about this part! thanks to @percervall once again, who had to listen me talk about this part for many many hours and who was kind enough to help me proofread!! i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee 

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

It only happened once every few lifetimes. 

You honestly did not expect to end up with one of your closest friends – especially not after you told your cheating husband that you were getting a divorce, after he chose his lover over you and your baby; and most definitely not after the said close friend told you that he would step up instead of your cheat of a husband.  

But there you are, in the arms of non-other than Carlos Sainz, your boyfriend, having just woken up by the excited pitter patter of feet right outside your bedroom door. “Carlos,” you whisper, nudging him softly to wake him up, “Carlos, wake up.” You watch as he stirs, and then buries his head onto his pillow mumbling all the reasons why he doesn’t want to be awake, but you just chuckle softly as you poke him again. “Carlos, please.” 

With a disgruntled grunt, you watch as his eyes open, and with a scratchy voice he whines, “What, amor, I was sleeping.” 

Rolling your eyes, you point to the bedroom door, “Listen,” you tell him, and watch as his eyes widen as realisation sets in at the same time his expression turns into a smiling one. “I think someone is excited for today.”  

“You think?” He retorts, snorting lightly as he pulls you closer, “That’s all he’s been able to talk about for weeks, amor.”  

“Well, can you blame him?” You nudge him, ignoring the sound of scraping of your son’s step stool outside your door. “He just wants to watch his father win.” Watching the smile on your boyfriend’s face grows as the door handle is jiggling, you point to the pillows with your head, “Let’s just pretend we’re asleep, he’ll be happier that way.”  

With a deep sigh, the happy kind, he pulls you closer to himself – at the right time too, as you hear the patter of footsteps getting closer. With a tug at the comforter, you hear, “Papa, wake up.” You can hear Carlos, badly, muffling a chuckle by burying his head deeper into your neck, but the little voice beside him is non-relenting. “Papa! You promised me we’d go to the race today!”  

“Carlos,” you whisper covertly, “you’re going to make him cry.”  

Giving you a look that silently says, No I won’t, he turns towards the little intruder in your bedroom, quickly gathering him in his arms as he puts him on the bed next to you. The sound of laughter coming from two of the most important men in your life bring a sleepy smile to your face as you watch Carlos tickle your son despites his protests for him to stop.  

“Mommy!” Your son exclaims, climbing over Carlos to reach you, “Tell Papa to stop! We need to get ready!” His face is flushed with excitement and laughter, a sight that fills your heart with warmth. 

“Alright, alright,” you say, giggling as you pull him into a hug, “let’s get ready then. You don’t want to be late for your big day, do you?” 

Carlos finally stops his playful assault, sitting up and stretching with a groan. “She’s right, buddy. We should all get up and get going. Lots to do before the race, you still remember our plan for breakfast?” Your son’s eyes light up even more, if that were possible, and he scrambles off the bed, running back to his room to get dressed. You and Carlos exchange a glance, something you seem to do more now than ever.  

You wait until Rafael is out of the hearing distance before you tilt your head sideways and narrow your eyes in question, “What plan are you talking about?” 

“Nothing for you,” he boops your nose with his pointer finger as he straightens up and gets out of the bed, “to worry your pretty little head about. Just come to the kitchen when you’re ready.” 

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued but willing to play along. “So, you think I’m pretty?” you ask, batting your eyes at him exaggeratedly as he gently shoves you back into the bed. Getting up and stretching, which you shamelessly take the opportunity to ogle him, you watch him with a smile as he heads towards the kitchen following your son. Getting ready consists of brushing your teeth and hastily throwing on a robe for you, too anxious to see what you son and husband cooking up in the kitchen – literally.  

The scene in the kitchen is enough to melt your heart on its own – Rafael is standing on his trusty step stool at the counter, his little hands busy arranging an assortment of fruits on a plate. The concentration on his face is evident by the way his tongue peeks out slightly in that adorable way he does when he’s focused, a habit that he picked up from his father. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, is busy with flipping something in a pan, shirtless might you add.  

“Oh my God, look at my boys!” You croon, leaning against the doorframe with a playful grin. “You even have matching hats and everything!” 

“Boys?” Carlos scoffs, turning to Rafael and pointing his finger towards you, “Can you believe her?” He then turns to you as he places his hands on his hips and puffs out his chest. “We are not boys, amor, we are men.” 

You chuckle at his exaggerated display of masculinity, shaking your head as you walk further into the kitchen. “Oh, of course, how could I forget? The two manliest men I know,” you tease, your voice dripping with playful sarcasm. 

Rafael, picking up on the banter, puffs out his little chest just like his father, mimicking his stance. “Yeah, Mommy! We're strong, right, Papa?” 

Carlos grins, his eyes twinkling as he looks at Rafael. “That’s right, we’re the strongest men in the world." He turns back to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “And we make the best breakfast too. Isn’t that right, Raf?” 

“Yes!” Rafael exclaims, beaming with pride as he holds up the plate of perfectly arranged fruit. “Look what I made, Mommy!” 

You lean down to inspect his handiwork, smiling softly. “Wow, this looks incredible, sweetheart. You’re so talented!” You give him a big kiss on the cheek, making him giggle. 

Carlos steps closer, holding out a fork with a piece of pancake speared on it. “And how about a taste test, amor?” His voice is softer now, the playful tone giving way to something more tender. 

You take the fork from him, taking a bite of the pancake. The fluffiness and warmth of it fill your senses, and you can’t help but let out a contented sigh. “This is amazing, Carlos. You’ve outdone yourself.” 

He watches you with a satisfied smile, clearly pleased with your reaction. “Only the best for you.” 

Rafael, not wanting to be left out, grabs a piece of fruit and holds it up to you. “Try mine too, Mommy!” 

You take the fruit from him, savouring the sweetness as you chew. “Delicious! You’re both going to spoil me with all this great food.” 

Carlos chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist as he presses a kiss to your temple. “That’s the plan,” he murmurs against your skin, making you shiver slightly. “I can also spoil you in the other way you like,” his voice drops enough for only you to hear.  

You glance up at him, meeting his playful yet heated gaze, and feel a blush creep up your cheeks. “Carlos,” you murmur, half-warning, half-inviting, as Rafael happily oblivious to the exchange, chatters away about his breakfast creation. “I would like to still be able to walk by the time we get to the paddock.” 

But Carlos just smirks, leaning in to brush his lips against your ear, his breath warm and intoxicating. “Later, amor,” he promises, his voice thick with affection and mischief. 

Before you can respond, Rafael tugs at your robe, breaking the spell. “Mommy! Let’s eat now!” His voice is filled with the kind of innocent excitement that only a child can muster, and it instantly brings you back in the present moment. 

You smile down at him, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Alright, let’s eat. I’m starving.” Carlos gives you one last knowing glance before stepping back to grab the plates. As the three of you settle down at the table, you try to ignore his lingering gaze that makes your heart race just a bit faster, though you’re not exactly that successful. 

It would be safe to say that it had been a crazy few years for Carlos Sainz. Or at least, that’s what Charles would say – if, you know, anybody was to ask him his opinion. First, he had lost his seat at Ferrari, and Charles really felt for him at first; after all, he was his teammate. But he was also the man who ended his marriage, so his feelings for Carlos changed for the worse very quickly. The whole situation had him coming to some revelations.  

First revelation he came to was the fact that he was wrong for cheating on his wife, however complicated the situation might be. He had tried to justify it to himself, blaming the stress and the strain, but deep down, he knew there was no excuse for what he’d done. 

Second revelation was that you deserved to be happy, with or without him – he was just being petty because it was with his old teammate. You deserved to be happy, and while Charles could admit that in theory, accepting that your happiness was now tied to Carlos was a bitter pill to swallow. 

Third, and probably the biggest, revelation was that he had royally screwed up when he chose the other woman over you and your son, and it was a loss that he mourned every single day. If he thought seeing Carlos thrive after his own life was crumbling down was hurting his ego, seeing Carlos be the father to his son, was a thousand times worse.  

Life took an interesting turn for Carlos after that night at the hotel in Monte Carlo. You had no expectations for him, you didn’t expect him to stay true to his words and be there for you and your baby. But that was the thing, because he kept his promise. He was at your door the next morning with a short list of apartments and penthouses in Monte Carlo. Anticipating your need of getting out of the country, he was prepared – he also looked at apartments in New York, houses in LA and townhouses in London (the few apartments he chose in Madrid also didn’t escape you, but it was a conversation you weren’t ready to have yet). So, when you were having, yet another breakdown in front of him, he just stood next to you and held you until you calmed down. He was always next to you, somehow managing his schedule for the racing season and coming out to see you between races. He kept true to his promise as he made waffles for you at midnight, grumbling about how pancakes were superior, and he held your hand when you were in the delivery room even though you were probably close to breaking the poor man’s hand. The bigger shock came when he announced that he would not be racing for the next season – something he had conveniently not told you in the months leading up to your pregnancy. It also led up to your first fight, and your first real confrontation since this unexpected journey began. The news that Carlos wouldn’t be racing the next season blindsided you. It wasn’t just the fact that he had made such a monumental decision without consulting you; it was the realisation that he had chosen you and your child over the sport he loved so deeply. 

“What do you mean you’re not racing next season?” you had asked, your voice edged with disbelief. You were standing in the kitchen of the new apartment he had helped you find, your baby—your son—napping peacefully in the next room. Carlos was casually leaning against the counter, arms crossed, as if he had just announced something as mundane as what was for dinner. 

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, a habit you had come to recognize as a sign that he was about to say something serious. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” he said, his voice calm, and God it drove you insane how calm and rational he was being with a decision so irrational to you. “And after everything that’s happened... I just think it’s the right decision for now.” 

“But racing is your life,” you insisted, the weight of his words settling in. “I don’t understand how you can just walk away from it.” 

Carlos met your gaze, his brown eyes steady and full of determination. “It’s not about walking away,” he explained. “It’s about priorities. You and Rafael... you’re my priority now. I want to be here for you both, not halfway across the world, missing out on everything.” 

The sincerity in his voice made your heart ache. For so long, you had been used to being let down, to promises that were made and then broken. But here was Carlos, standing in front of you, willing to give up something he loved more than anything for you and your son. 

“That’s not fair to you,” you whispered, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. “I don’t want to be the reason you give up on your dreams.” 

Carlos stepped closer, gently cupping your face in his hands. “You’re not taking anything away from me,” he assured you. “You’re giving me something I didn’t even know I needed. I’m choosing this, because I want to. I want to be here for you, to be the father Rafael deserves. I want us to be a family.” 

His words broke through the wall you had been holding up, and you let the tears fall. It wasn’t just about the sacrifice he was making; it was about the fact that he was doing it willingly, without hesitation, because he wanted to be with you and Rafael. It was a love that was deeper than anything you had ever known, and it terrified you as much as it filled you with hope. 

“But what if you regret it?” you asked, your voice trembling with the weight of your fears. 

“I won’t,” Carlos said firmly, his thumbs gently brushing away your tears. “I know what I want. And if I ever go back to racing, it’ll be when we’re ready. When we both decide it’s the right time. But for now, this is where I need to be.” 

You searched his eyes for any sign of doubt, but there was none. He was as serious as ever, and in that moment, you realized that this wasn’t just about him making a choice— it was about him choosing you, over and over again, in a way no one ever had before. 

The argument you had anticipated fizzled out before it could even begin. There was nothing left to fight about, not when he had laid his heart bare for you. All you could do was fall into his arms, holding onto him tightly as you let the weight of his decision sink in. It was overwhelming, knowing that someone loved you that much, that they would uproot their entire world just to be by your side. 

So, yeah, Carlos Sainz had not raced for the 2025 season. If it were up to him, he would stay with the two of you for the 2026 season as well, but you and Carlos Sainz Sr managed to convince him to get back to the real world, no matter how much he was enjoying being a stay-at-home dad. But the biggest shock for the world, and Charles, wasn’t that Carlos was returning to the F1 grid – no, the biggest shock was that he was returning to the F1 grid in one of the most coveted seats; right next to Max Verstappen. The reaction to the news had been mixed. Some were thrilled to see him back, eager to see what he could do in a car as competitive as the Red Bull. Others were skeptical, wondering if a year away from the sport had dulled his edge. For Charles, the news was a bitter pill to swallow. Carlos wasn’t just returning to the grid—he was stepping into one of the most sought-after seats in F1. But more than that, it was the reminder that Carlos had taken something else from him, something far more personal and painful. Watching Carlos step into his new role at Red Bull, knowing that he was now part of your life and Rafael’s life in a way Charles never could be, was a constant, aching reminder of everything he had lost. 

And so began the Leclerc-Sainz rivalry – which although sounds riveting, is probably the reason why you had to visit your cardiologist more times than necessary within the last couple of years. On the surface, it was the perfect storyline: two former teammates, now on opposing sides, battling it out on the track in some of the most intense and thrilling races the sport had ever seen. But for you, it was far from entertainment. Each race weekend became a new source of anxiety, and Carlos knew how much it affected you, so he tried his best to keep the rivalry on the track. He would reassure you, telling you that whatever happened during the race, it wouldn’t change how he felt about you or Rafael. But even he couldn’t deny that the tension between him and Charles was personal. It was more than just racing—it was about proving something, not just to the world, but to themselves and each other. And so, race after race, you found yourself on an emotional rollercoaster. The thrill of seeing Carlos perform at his best was always accompanied by the fear of what might happen if things went wrong. The rivalry wasn’t just a storyline for the media—it was a real, living thing that had a profound impact on your life. 

So, when Rafael told you that he wanted to watch his father race live, you were hesitant to agree. The thought of bringing your son into that world—where emotions ran high, and the stakes were even higher—filled you with dread. The last thing you wanted was for Rafael to witness the intensity of the rivalry that had consumed not just Carlos and Charles, but your entire life. 

Carlos, however, was adamant. He knew how much it meant to Rafael to see him race, to be a part of something that had been such a significant part of Carlos’s life before Rafael was born. “He needs to see it,” Carlos told you one evening as you sat together, discussing Rafael’s request. “He needs to know what I do, why it’s important to me, and why I went back to racing in the first place.”  

You couldn’t deny that Carlos had a point. Rafael idolized his father and seeing him in action would only strengthen the bond between them. But the idea of watching the race unfold, of seeing Carlos and Charles go head-to-head while your son was there, was almost too much to bear. The days leading up to the race were a blur of preparation and anxiety. Carlos did his best to reassure you, but the tension was palpable. He understood your fears and promised to keep things professional, but you both knew that once the lights went out, everything would be on the line. So, you weren’t exactly surprised that your boyfriend spent the entire morning buttering you up and getting you to relax as much as possible about the day ahead of you.  

And to be perfectly fair, he was right for the most part. It had been fine from the moment you made it into the paddock, which somehow worked wonders on your anxiety. As you made your way to the circuit, Rafael’s excitement was infectious. He was practically bouncing in his seat, his little face pressed against the window as he took in the sights. You couldn’t help but smile, his joy momentarily easing the knot of anxiety that had been tightening in your chest since the moment you agreed to come to the paddock in the first place.  

Seeing him so happy and in his element, you know instantly that the paddock, no matter in which country, is going to become his safe place. Rafael keeps asking Carlos questions about everything from how they manage to keep the cars so clean to what would happen if they didn’t wear helmets. And Carlos is patient as he answers all his questions, no matter how childish or obvious they might seem. So, when he told Rafael that maybe, just maybe, he might end up in one of the cars he admires so much one day, you know your son won’t miss the beat. “Can I?” He asks you, eyes widened with a pleading look as he clasps his hands together under his chin, “Please, Mommy, I promise I’ll be very careful.”  

“Absolutely not,” you shake your head, mind immediately starting to think about all the things that could go wrong, “it’s so dangerous! Just think about how afraid you’d be of the speed.”  

Rafael scoffs, arms crossed on his chest as he pleads through the pout he has on his face, “I’m not afraid of the speed! Papa, tell her I’m not afraid of the speed!” 

Carlos reaches over Rafael’s head as he takes off his cap and ruffles his hair, which manages to get a series of giggles from the little boy, and he affirms, “You are not afraid of the speed, but your mother is right.” You have to hold in your laughter when you see the indignant look on Rafael’s face, but Carlos continues talking as he signals for his son to listen, “We can talk about it when you are older, but for right now you are my lead strategist, capisce?” 

Rafael steers his pout towards you, and you shrug innocently in response, which gets a resigning sigh from him. “That’s fine, I guess.” He mumbles, and points to the garage door behind the table the three of you are sitting, “Can I look at your car again?” 

“Be careful, and make sure you tell Caco where you are.” Carlos reminds him, as Rafael excitedly scurries off toward the garage, leaving you and Carlos to share a quiet moment. 

Carlos leaned back in his chair, a content smile playing on his lips as he watched Rafael dart off. “He’s got the bug,” he says, a hint of pride in his voice. 

You sigh, shaking your head playfully. “I know. He’s already got the attitude. I don’t think I’m ready for him to jump in a kart and never look back.” 

Carlos reaches for your hand, his touch grounding you. “We’ll keep him safe,” he says quietly, his gaze meeting yours. “I promise. Whatever happens, we’ll make sure he’s ready, and we’ll protect him from the worst of it.” 

You nod, squeezing his hand in return, trusting him like you always have. As you sit together, watching Rafael’s excitement fill the garage, the sweet moment is interrupted by a voice both of you know very well. “Seriously? You’re using him to get to me on a race day now?”  

Your fingers nearly crush your poor boyfriend’s hand as you look at the intruder, your heart immediately racing. You turn to see Charles standing there, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. His eyes flicker from Carlos to you, then toward the garage where Rafael had just run off. “Excuse me?” You manage to get out, your voice sharp with surprise. The audacity of his accusation stings more than you expected. Charles' gaze hardens as he steps closer, clearly not backing down. 

“You heard me,” Charles says, his tone edged with bitterness. “Bringing Rafael here, right in the middle of everything... it’s not a coincidence. You’re just trying to—” 

“To what?” Carlos cuts in, his voice calm but firm. His protective instincts kick in as he stands, placing himself between you and Charles. “To have a good day with our son? To let him enjoy the race?” 

Charles scoffs, shaking his head. “He’s not your son, he’s mine. Stop fooling yourself into thinking you’re his father just because you’re here.” 

The words hit like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, everything goes silent. Carlos' expression tightens, but he doesn’t move, his body still a shield between you and Charles. You feel your breath catch in your throat, the weight of Charles’ words hanging heavy in the air. “I know who his father is, Charles,” Carlos says, his voice calm but steely. “And considering the fact that he doesn’t even know you exist, I’d say me being here is more than proof that I am his father.” 

Charles' jaw clenches, and his eyes flicker with something raw—pain, jealousy, frustration, all mixed together. “You think you can just step in and take my place? Be the dad, play happy family with my son?” 

“Cabrón,” Carlos warns, and though you’ve heard him use that nickname for his friends countless of times, this voice is devoid of all affection, “you lost all right to call yourself Rafael’s father when you decided to choose whatever flavour of the month you were with at the time.” You feel your heart race, not from fear, but from the sheer intensity of the moment and the murderous look on Carlos’ face. Carlos steps forward, his voice low but terse. “You think being a father is about biology? About showing up when it’s convenient for you? Rafael doesn’t even know who you are because you’ve never been there for him. I have. I’ve been the one tucking him in, I've been there when he was sick and crying, and I’m the one showing him love every single day.”  

Charles flinches, the sting of the truth evident in his expression. For a moment, the fire in his eyes dims, replaced by something else— regret, perhaps. But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, and he straightens his posture, trying to regain control of the situation. “I made mistakes,” Charles says, his voice quiet but defiant. “But you can’t just erase me from his life. He has a right to know who his real father is.” 

Carlos’ gaze doesn’t waver, his protective instincts blazing. “Rafael knows who his real father is. He may not understand all the details yet, but he knows who’s been there for him. And when the time comes, when he’s ready, we’ll tell him the truth. But that decision isn’t yours to make anymore, Charles. You gave up that right a long time ago.” 

“You’re just going to sit there and let him talk to me like this?” Charles hisses, turning towards you in an attempt to find sympathy. His eyes are pleading, but there’s anger simmering beneath the surface. 

Your chest tightens as you meet his gaze, feeling the weight of everything that has been left unsaid between the three of you for so long. You take a deep breath, your voice soft but firm when you finally respond. “It’s time to let go, Charles.” Charles' face falls at your words, the weight of their finality hitting him hard. His lips part slightly as if he wants to argue, but no words come. The tension in the air is suffocating, each second stretching out painfully. Carlos remains silent, standing tall beside you, his hand subtly resting on your back for support. He knows this conversation is yours to finish. “It’s not about erasing you from Rafael’s life,” you continue, your voice steady though your heart is pounding in your chest. “It’s about doing what’s best for him. And right now, that means protecting him from the confusion and hurt that the fact that you were too much of a coward to choose him.” 

Charles takes a step back, the anger in his expression dimming into something more fragile. His eyes search yours, perhaps looking for a trace of the bond you once shared, but it’s clear that things have changed too much. Too much time has passed. “I’m not trying to hurt him,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I apologised countless of times, what more do you want from me? I am sorry, okay?” 

“Are you quite done?” Charles flinches at your sharp tone, the weight of your words settling heavily between the three of you. His gaze drops to the ground as if he’s searching for something to say, but nothing comes. Carlos stands steady beside you, his presence strong, comforting, even. “I am sorry, too, about it all.”  

You can feel Carlos’ confused stare on you, and Charles looks at you with the same expression as he asks, “You... do?” 

“I’m sorry that you were cheating on me from the start, I’m sorry you were too weak to stay faithful to me after we got married,” you continue, the words heavy but resolute as they fall from your lips. Charles' expression shifts, a mixture of guilt and pain crossing his face. Carlos’ hand tightens slightly on your back, offering silent support as you finally lay bare what you’ve held inside for so long. “I’m sorry I ignored it for as long as I did, and I’m sorry that I ever found out.” Charles’ face hardens, his eyes clouded with guilt and perhaps a hint of defensiveness as your words hit him. The weight of what you're saying seems to pull him down, and he takes a deep breath as if trying to absorb the impact. He opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off, not willing to let this moment slip away before you say everything that’s been weighing on your heart. “I’m sorry I ever found out about the lies, but most of all, I’m sorry for Rafael. He deserved better, he deserved a father who was present and loved him without conditions,” you say, your eyes locking with Charles’. “You weren’t there, Charles, you weren’t there before Rafael, and you weren’t going to be there after him. So, I suppose what I’m not sorry for is falling in love with a man who was courageous enough to fill that role for both me and him.” Charles’ lips part as if to argue, but no words form. His eyes betray the guilt and regret he’s been carrying, but there’s nothing left for him to say. He knows it. You know it. Even the mechanics and people around you who have stopped what they are doing to watch this whole thing go down know it. “Finally, I’m sorry that you felt the need and audacity to come down here, now not only have you ruined our marriage, but you’ve also ruined my day-off which I intended to spend with my boyfriend, and our son.” 

Charles flinches at your final words, his face crumpling under the weight of it all. The sting of your truth, laid bare for everyone to hear, leaves him speechless. His bravado has completely evaporated, replaced by a hollow sense of regret and defeat. He opens his mouth as if to respond but quickly closes it, realizing there’s nothing he can say that will undo the damage he caused, the pain he inflicted, or the years he lost. His eyes flicker to Carlos, who stands steady, unmoved by Charles’ turmoil. There’s no room for pity here. “I—” Charles begins but stops as Carlos raises his hand.  

“I think you’ve said enough,” his voice lacks all sympathy for his old friend, his old teammate, “it’s best you should go before you distress my girlfriend, or my son any further.  

Charles’ eyes widen slightly at Carlos’ words, the final blow landing hard. He looks as if he’s been physically struck, his shoulders slumping as any remaining fight drains from him. His gaze flickers between you and Carlos, searching for something—anything—but finding no redemption, no sympathy. There’s nothing left to say. 

He swallows hard, his lips pressed into a tight line, before finally nodding in a reluctant acceptance. “Fine,” he mutters, his voice barely audible. He turns on his heel, walking away with slow, defeated steps. The tension that had gripped the air slowly begins to dissipate as he disappears into the distance, leaving only the echoes of his footsteps behind. 

Carlos turns to you, his hand still resting on your back, but now it’s a comforting gesture rather than a protective one. His expression softens as he searches your face. “Are you okay?” he asks gently. 

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything that’s just happened, but also a sense of relief. “I think so,” you reply, your voice steady despite the emotional whirlwind you’ve just gone through. “It needed to happen.” 

Carlos nods, his thumb brushing soothingly against your back. “He’s not going to ruin this for us. Not today, not ever.” 

You smile faintly, grateful for his support. “No, he’s not. He’s gone now, and I’m finally free of it all.” 

“We’re free of him,” Carlos adds, a reassuring strength in his voice. “You, me, and Rafael. That’s what matters.” 

“Just promise me you’ll be careful on the track today,” you plead, chin resting on his chest as you look up to him.  

Carlos chuckles softly, his warm smile easing the tension that still lingers. “I promise,” he says, his voice light but sincere. He tilts his head, giving you a playful wink. “But you know me, I can’t drive too carefully. It's in my nature to push the limits a bit.” 

You roll your eyes with a small laugh, but your heart flutters slightly at the thought of him racing. It’s something you’ve grown used to, but there’s always that edge of worry. "Just... don’t make me regret asking," you tease, though the concern in your voice is real. 

Carlos leans down, brushing his lips gently against your forehead, the gesture filled with tenderness. "I’ll come back to you both, safe and sound," he whispers softly, his forehead resting against yours for a brief moment. "Always." 

You smile, feeling reassured by his words, and you give him a small nod. "Alright. Go show them what you’re made of, then." 

As Carlos pulls away, you can see the familiar spark in his eyes, the passion and excitement that he always carries before a race. He gives your hand one last squeeze before turning to head toward the car. You watch him for a moment, taking in the sight of him—confident, composed, and ready for whatever comes next. Just before he reaches the garage doors, he turns back and flashes you that signature grin that always makes your heart skip a beat. “For you and Rafael,” he calls out. Your smile widens as you watch him go, knowing that no matter what happens on the track today, you’ll always have each other. 

It’s not hard for you to find Rafael when you head back to the garage yourself. He’s completely engrossed in conversation with one of Carlos' engineers, pointing out different tools and parts of the car with wide-eyed fascination. His little hands gesture excitedly, and the engineer listens with a warm smile, clearly amused by Rafael’s enthusiasm. Carlos stands off to the side, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, watching his son with a look of pure affection and pride. His eyes sparkle as he takes in the sight of Rafael’s excitement, and there’s a certain softness to his expression that makes your heart swell. 

You walk over, standing beside Carlos, who doesn’t take his eyes off Rafael but greets you with a small grin. “He’s already talking like he’s part of the team,” Carlos says quietly, his voice filled with pride. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s taking over the pit crew in a few years.” 

You chuckle softly, watching Rafael explain something animatedly, his little voice echoing through the garage. “He’s got your passion,” you say, leaning into Carlos slightly, feeling the warmth of his presence. 

Carlos hums in agreement, his arm slipping around your waist. “Maybe,” he says, his tone affectionate, “but the way he talks about everything… that’s all you. He’s got your curiosity, your heart, so, all my favourite parts of you.” 

“My boyfriend the charmer,” you mumble as you lightly hit him on his chest.

Carlos chuckles, catching your hand gently against his chest before pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Just telling the truth,” he murmurs, his eyes twinkling as he holds your gaze for a moment longer. “You deserve all the charm in the world.” 

You roll your eyes playfully, though you can’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “You’re lucky you’re good at this, or I might think you’re just trying to get out of bath time for the next few days.” 

Carlos laughs, his warm, deep voice sending a wave of comfort through you. “I’d never do that. Bath time is part of the job.” He leans in slightly, lowering his voice with a mischievous grin. “But if I do this race right, maybe we can negotiate something.” 

You raise an eyebrow, feigning suspicion, but you can’t help the flutter in your chest at the way he always manages to make you feel light and cared for, even in the most mundane moments. “Alright, we’ll see how you perform today,” you tease back “if you win, I’ll let you put a baby in me, how about that?” 

Carlos freezes for a moment, his eyes widening in surprise before a slow, playful grin spreads across his face. “You’re serious?” he asks, his voice filled with both excitement and disbelief. 

You nod, biting your lip, unable to hide your own smile. “If you win today, we can start thinking about it.” 

Carlos lets out a short laugh, running a hand through his hair as if trying to process what you just said. “Well, I’ve never been more motivated to win a race in my life,” he says, his eyes gleaming with a new intensity. 

You chuckle, your heart racing at the look on his face. "Just make sure you’re focused on the track and not… well, other things." 

“Oh, I’ll be focused,” Carlos says, stepping closer and lowering his voice. “But now, I’ve got the best reason in the world to win.” He leans in, brushing his lips against your ear. “For you, and for giving Rafael a baby sister or a brother.” Your breath catches at the sincerity in his voice, and as he pulls back, he flashes you that charming grin again before heading off toward the car. You watch him go, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness settle in your chest. 

Eventually going behind the barriers and watching the race is harder than you’ve expected, you realise. As the laps go by, you keep glancing at Rafael, who’s glued to the action, his eyes wide with admiration for his dad. You smile at the way he clutches his little racing helmet, a miniature version of Carlos’ gear, his excitement evident. It’s clear he’s living every moment of the race through his dad’s performance, just as you are. When Carlos is in the lead, you hold your breath, willing him to stay ahead. When he’s fighting for position, you’re on the edge of your seat, cheering him on with every ounce of energy you have. 

As the final laps approach, you glance at the clock and then at Rafael, who’s practically bouncing with excitement. You can tell he’s just as invested in the outcome as you are. You squeeze his hand, giving him an encouraging smile, and he returns it with a determined nod. 

When Carlos crosses the finish line, the roar of the crowd is deafening, and you let out a cheer of your own, tears of joy welling up in your eyes. You look down at Rafael, who’s jumping up and down, his face beaming with pride and excitement. “He did it!” you shout, lifting him up in your arms as you join in the celebration. 

Caco and a couple of the mechanics help you and Rafael to get to the barriers, weaving through the throng of celebrating fans and team members. As you approach the barriers, Rafael’s excitement is noticeable. His eyes are wide with wonder, and he clutches his mini helmet tightly, bouncing with every step. Caco, with his warm, reassuring smile, offers a few words of congratulations and gives Rafael a high-five. Carlos comes into view, his car parked in the parc fermé. His grin is infectious, and you can see the joy and relief in his eyes as he looks up at you and Rafael. The moment he gets out of the car, he’s enveloped by his team, but his gaze quickly finds you and Rafael. He finds his way to you after getting weighed and you can see him grab his cap before finally rushing towards you. Carlos scoops Rafael up into his arms, spinning him around as they both laugh, and then turns to you, his eyes shining with gratitude and affection. 

“Well, looks like we’ve got a baby sister or brother to start thinking about,” Carlos says with a wink, setting Rafael down so he can pull you a in for a kiss. 

You smile against his lips, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the joy of this moment. When you pull away, you look up at Carlos, your eyes sparkling with love and excitement. “We do, don’t we?” you say softly, your heart full as you take in the sight of your family together in this victorious moment. 

Rafael, still buzzing with excitement, tugs on Carlos’ sleeve, his little voice bubbling over with enthusiasm. “Papa, did you see me cheering? I was so loud!” 

Carlos laughs, his eyes crinkling with joy. “I heard you, buddy. You were the loudest cheerleader out there.” 

As the celebration continues around you, you feel a profound sense of contentment. The day’s events, the race, the emotions—everything has come together perfectly. You take a deep breath, savouring the feeling of being surrounded by the people you love most. 

Carlos pulls you close, wrapping his arms around both you and Rafael. “Thank you for everything today,” he murmurs, his voice filled with sincerity. “You’ve made this day even more special.” 

You rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the steady beat of his heart. “It’s been an incredible day,” you agree, looking out at the jubilant scene around you. “I wouldn’t have wanted to spend it with anyone else.” 

As you watch him savour the moments with your son before he needs to go for his interview and the podium celebrations, you realise just how lucky you are to have something that only happens every few lifetimes. 

[d0rothydraws]

After a night out things get heated and Sylus can't control himself, revealing a new side of him.

content: f!reader, monster cock, porn without plot, public sex, multiple orgasms, Inappropriate use of Evol, after care, just a lot of smut idk

w/c: 3.7k

Ao3: Here

a/n: This took so long i'm so sorry works been wearing me out so much I haven't been able to post much. I hope this satisfies all the monster fuckers that wanted this from my one post.

Tonight had been.. A lot. You and Sylus were at a dinner banquet. Apparently a very important man was hosting the event and Sylus was looking for information about something. You didn’t really know or ask. You don’t really ask many questions these days. Sylus had custom fit you one of the most beautiful dresses you had ever seen. It was made of the softest silk, the neckline was low yet tasteful, showing enough to catch some looks but not enough to feel exposed. The skirt had a high slit that went to the top of your hip, exposing your leg once in a while. As you walked, the long skirt looked like it was flowing around you like water. You wore matching blood red heels that looked like they were carved out of ruby. The light catching them in a mesmerizing way. Your hair was done in a way where it framed your face, pulled in an updo that bounced slightly every time you took a step. And on your neck was a crow pendant embedded with a ruby. 

To say it simply, you looked beautiful. Elegant. 

And Sylus couldn’t keep his eyes, or hands, off of you.

As you walked, his hand was draped around your waist, hand on your hip. Or his hand was on your lower back, or when you sat his hand was on your thigh, fingers drawing patterns that sent a chill down your spine. He looked at you from the corner of his eye, meeting yours once in a while. You almost could feel the hot breath that left him when this happened, exhaling every time as if he was trying to control himself. 

You couldn’t lie, it felt good to see him like this. It wasn’t like he didn’t know what you would look like in the dress, it was custom fit, custom designed just for you. He had seen it on you before. And yet when anyone looked over at you, giving you just the smallest bit of attention, you felt his hand tighten, body pulled closer. Your hip flush against his. You could feel heat radiating from his body.

Part of you wondered if he was going to end up dragging you into the bathroom. A couple times you thought he was considering it, especially as his hand moved to the inside of your thigh halfway through the banquet. His rough fingers trailed higher, brushing against your panties. He leaned over whispering in your ear, his voice thick as honey. 

“You look delicious.” His words sent a shiver through your body as your hand tightened on the fork you were holding. You looked around, everyone was talking about something you didn't understand. Nobody knew what was happening under the table. And in a bold decision, you parted your thighs just a little bit more. Moving your hips to press against the fingers that were tracing your folds through your panties. You heard his breath catch, his hand pausing for only a second, Sylus’ lips returned to your ear. 

“Try not to squirm too much, kitten. I’m not sure how much longer I can hold back.” He said as his fingers dipped under the fabric, calloused fingers grazing the sensitive skin. You took a bite of food to hide a moan, your face red as a shaky breath left your lipsticked lips. You wanted nothing more than to ride his hand. To throw all caution to the wind and thrust your hips against his fingers until you were clenching and twitching around him, begging for more. 

And suddenly, his hand was gone. Your disappointment must have been audible because he chuckled, bringing his finger to his lips. Swiftly he liked them as if he was licking off a stray drop of sauce that fell onto his hand. You caught the look in his eye as his right eye started glowing slightly. Glancing down you seen the red and black tendrils of his power snake its way around your leg. It felt warm and you tried to not shiver or make a sound as you felt the weight of it move between your thighs. Your panties pushed to the side and as a reflex you tried to close your legs. The tendrils pushed your legs back open gently, like a pair of hands and as you felt the warmth against your core, you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching a hand out, putting it on Sylus’ thigh, nails pressing into the thick meat. 

It felt as if it was Sylus himself between your thighs, just a different version. The feeling was like a warm tongue licking at you, lapping up every bit that you provided as you tried your damndest to not moan, or at least, too loud. You never felt anything like this before. You almost forgot you were in public until you heard his voice in your ear again. 

“Quiet, kitten. You’ll get caught.” His voice was low, strained. A rush of adrenaline flooded your veins as you choked back a whine. The energy pushed inside you, curling exactly where you needed it. Licking your sensitive, throbbing clit. Your hand on his thigh tightened, nails digging in more making him give a low groan deep in his throat. 

“Sylus-” You said, trying to be quiet, but the sound was choked out. Your breathing was heavy, face red and eyes were starting to get glossy. “I can’t. P-please, I-” You let out a choked gasp, louder than you wanted as your orgasm rushed through you. You clenched around the thick mass of energy inside you as you panted, blushing so dark that you probably matched your dress. A few people turned to look, eyebrows raised in curiosity as they saw your out of breath expression. 

“We will be taking our leave now.” Sylus said, the energy around your lower half dissolved as if it never happened. Your legs felt numb as you tried to steady your thoughts, your heart pounding and blood rushing. Your body moved on its own as Sylus stood, as if being willed by him to follow. You had no complaints about this, your anticipation was as high as ever to get him alone. His hand was firm on your lower back giving you much needed support as you walked to the car.

The drive home was quiet but the tension was thick. His body was tense as he pulled into the driveway and before you could even open the door, the red-black tendrils of energy embraced you again. Your body was moved by a force you couldn’t fight even if you wanted to. A thrill ran through your body. He had never used his Evol on you like this before. 

You were placed in the middle of the bedroom, Sylus following you through the door as his eye glowed. His hands in his pockets as he looked at you with a hunger you never saw from him before. You let out a slow breath, feeling the energy dissolve into the air as he towered over you, a hand moving to your chin. 

“Sweetie, you almost made me lose control, looking like that in public. It’s dangerous, you know.” He said, fingers trailing your skin as his other hand trailed down the curve of your waist, admiring the figure hidden under the dress he picked out. 

“I guess you could say I had a good stylist.” You said with a half laugh, he chuckled, a low sound that warmed your core. His hand moved behind your neck, fingers making quick work of the tie that held the light dress on your body. With a flick of his fingers, the fabric fell to the floor around your feet. Your hand moved to his chest, trailing up to wrap around his tie. 

The tension broke as you pulled him down into a rough kiss, one of his hands curled in your hair while the other moved to your hip. He guided you as you felt the bed hit the back of your legs, one of his legs coming to rest on the edge of the bed as you fell back. His kiss was hot, hungry. Teeth bite your lip, tongues pushing against each other as your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. He took your hand from his tie, his fingers wrapping around yours as he pinned it above your head. 

“Do you trust me?” He breathed in your ear as he pulled back, panting softly. You could feel the hardness of his cock against your thigh, straining his pants. You arched your hips up to apply some pressure, making him groan. You knew there was only one answer to his question.  

“Yes.” 

The grip on your hand tightened as it was pushed harder into the soft mattress, his other hand moved to your face bringing your lips to his as he kissed you. Slow, deep. Different from the kiss you just had. You felt hot breath on your cheek as he breathed out through his nose asif he was holding his breath waiting for your answer. In turn, the kiss took your own breath away as you pulled back, your lips slightly red from how he bit your lip as you pulled back. His fingers traced the outline of your lower lip as his eyes stared down at you, red orbs swirling.

“Darling,” His voice made a low sound as his eyes looked into you. A serious look that brought you back to reality for a moment. He didn’t give you that look often.  “I’m not sure if I'll be able to hold back tonight.” Sylus sounded just as breathless as you felt. “If you need me to stop at any point, tell me. Promise me.” He said, the hand on your cheek gently tracing the skin under his fingers. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Your heart fluttered as you looked up at him. Your cheeks flushed as you took a deep breath, processing his words. 

You two had a safe word. It was well established when you started becoming physical. There was one time you did have to use it, not because of anything horrible but you weren’t in the right mindset for what he had planned that night. So instead of putting yourself through it, knowing that he wouldn’t want you to do that, you said it. He stopped instantly followed by a warm bath, snacks, and your favorite show. 

“I promise.” You breathed, looking into his eyes as he stared down at you. There was something that you couldn’t tell, that you never had seen before. “I trust you, Sylus.” You whispered, bringing your free hand to pull him into a slow kiss that matched the last one. You put your whole soul into that kiss, as if hoping he would understand just how much you cared for him. How without a thought you would put your life in his hands, knowing damn well that he would do the same for you. 

As the kiss continued, the energy began to change. Once soft and gentle was becoming something more. His lips were hot, hungry as he straddled your hips. His clothed cock grinded against your thigh making your body twitch and shiver with need. His hand on your face became rougher, holding your jaw firmly as his kiss devoured you. He pulled away with a soft growl, licking his lips. 

“You’re like a drug to me.” Sylus said as his hands moved to pull at his clothes, buttons unfastening to reveal his chest. Your mouth started to salivate at the sight.  Your hands moved up to help him, guiding your palms over the surface of his skin. Sylus let out a low sound, watching you as you made your way to his belt. He didn’t stop you as you undid the fasten. The sound of metal was loud in the room as it fell from its hold as Sylus pulled the belt and tossed it on the floor. 

His lips were on you again. Hungry, hot. You felt your breath be taken from your lungs as your hands were pinned above your head. His tongue pushing into your mouth, devouring you whole. He pulled away with a low growl, looking down at you, his eyes dark and his lips red from the kiss and the stain of your lipstick. 

“Roll over kitten.” Sylus purred as he let go of your hands and instantly you followed his direction. You felt the slick of your arousal as you moved, making your need even more known to you as you turned. Now with your ass to him, arched as your cheek laid against the pillow. You felt his fingers wrap under the lace of your panties, pulling them down to your knees. You looked over to him, your view obstructed but still managed to match his eyes. 

No words needed to be said, both of you needed the same exact thing and he wasn’t in a mood to tease you, at least not at the moment. His hands worked on his pants, letting them fall to the floor as he stood off of the bed, his boxers following. Your mouth watered, moaning into the pillow at the sight of him. Hard, dripping. His hand wrapped around his cock, pumping slowly as his thumb brushed against the angry red head. You felt your pussy clench as if trying to draw him in. He was beautiful. He didn’t even look human. No human could be this beautiful. 

As he climbed back onto the bed he wasted no time in positioning himself. He kissed your back, one hand on himself to adjust while the other was on your ass, sinking into the soft flesh. He kissed your back again before speaking into your ear, his voice was rough, deep.

“Remember our promise?” He whispered, his voice strained. Reminding you that you would use the safe word if you needed. You felt his tip slide against you, eager for the final confirmation. You nodded into the pillow, shifting your hips as you grinded against him. He groaned, the hand on your ass getting rougher as he held you still. 

He began to push into you slowly. You felt your body stretch to accommodate him, your moan loud as your body felt like electricity was pulsing through your veins at the feeling. Fuck he always felt so good. So thick, so heavy inside you. Your eyes rolled as he bottomed out his hands gently rubbing your back, your ass, the back of your thighs. He waited a moment, his breath strained as he tried to contain himself. But as he started to thrust it was a lost cause. 

You cried out moaning as he pulled out, thrusting back in. Your body shook as you felt him fuck you, his thrusts started to get faster the louder you moaned as if the sound of your cries edged him on, which was very much the case. You tightened around him, gasping as you felt his hand coming to rub against your clit, his rough thumb brushing the sensitive skin. 

“You sound so beautiful darling. Let me hear how you sound as you cum on my cock.” He purred in his ear. His voice sounded.. Different. Deeper somehow, more primal, needy. It drove you wild. You moaned gasping as you moved your body against him, fucking yourself on his cock while he pressed his thumb against you. You felt the sensation take over your body as Sylus hit that spot inside you that made you cry out and see stars. Your orgasm flowed through you as your pussy fluttered and clenched around him, pushing him to the brink as he filled you with his hot cum. 

You caught your breath, your forehead sticky with sweat as you felt your body tremble from the release. Sylus on the other hand, was still inside you. Cock hard, twitching as if he didn't just cum inside you. His hands gripped your hips, his lips moving to your back as he kissed your sweaty skin. You could hear his heart pounding, as fast as ever. 

“I’m not done with you yet, sweetie. That was a warmup.” He said as he started to thrust again, slowly at first. Your body shivered and moaned at the sudden movement, sensitive from your orgasm as he stated to fuck you. You felt his cum inside you, being fucked deeper. You blushed gasping, your head spinning with pleasure. 

As he fucked you, you swore his hands on your hips felt larger. His nails were digging into your skin as if they were talons. Not cutting into you, but more noticeable than before. You gasped, your mouth opening against the pillow, eyes widening as you whimpered. 

“Sylus!” You cried out as you felt your pussy stretch more than before. You felt his cock, which was already big and thick, get even bigger. The girth stretching you out more to the point your legs were shaking. You felt him hit places inside you you didn't even know existed. You felt tears fall from your eyes, sure it hurt a little but god you never felt so good in your life. You felt his tongue lick up your spine, long, thick. His mouth moved to your ear, sharp teeth nipping the skin. You could hear your heart pound. What was he? How did he become… like this? 

“Wow kitten, you took me so well.” Sylus purred. He wasn’t even moving yet and you were a whimpering crying mess. “I bet you love being stretched out on my cock like this, don’t you? I’m not even moving and it feels like you’re about to cum again.” He teased as you felt a rough, larger than normal thumb brush against your clit. “Careful, if you do, you might boost my ego. I could get addicted to this.”

Your head spun as you whimpered and moaned. You couldn’t see him. Even if you tried to turn, he was pressed against your back. But he wasn’t wrong. You were close. So agonizingly close that when he touched his thumb to that damn spot between your legs it was instant. You cried out, clenching around him and he hissed at the feeling. His cock twitched inside you as he felt you cum on his cock from nothing more than just being inside you. Filling you up completely. Stretching you to your limit to the point you weren’t sure if you’d be able to walk later. 

“Good girl. You’ve been such a good girl for me, haven’t you?” Sylus purred into your ear as he started to move. Your eyes widened as you cried out, hands clawing at the bedsheets as you felt how massive he truly had become now that he started moving. Your legs shook as you struggled to keep yourself propped up on your knees. His hands came to grab your hips as you whimpered and moaned mindlessly into the pillow. His hands felt so big, so strong. He had always been strong but this was different, otherworldly. He held you exactly how and where he wanted you as he began to fuck into you. Your body bounced and shook as if you were a ragdoll. 

“That’s it, sweetie, just like that. You’re a perfect little slut for me, aren’t you. Taking anything I give you, no matter how big. You’ll stretch your tight little pussy for me, won’t you?” Sylus growled in your ear and you gasped, eyes rolling back at his words. You couldn’t control the sounds coming from your lips, or the drool that spilled out onto the silk pillowcase. You couldn’t stop the loud needy whimper at the things he said to you. His nails pressed into your soft flesh as he continued to ravish you. 

His thrusts started to get unsteady as he panted, one hand groping your ass as the other curled into your hair, turning your face for him to kiss you. His long tongue forced its way into your mouth, his teeth were sharper but it felt more like fangs now that you could feel him better. You opened your eyes for a second, catching a glimpse to see that he looked normal. As he pulled away and opened his eyes though, you noticed how both eyes were glowing red. It looked like orbs of the red mist of his Evol flowing inside his eyes. It was beautiful. If you weren’t getting your brains fucked out you would have more time to appreciate it. 

The hand returned between your thighs, drawing circles against your sensitive nub. As he felt you twitch and whimper, his hand continued until he pulled another orgasm out of you. Your scream was muffled by the pillow but the sound made him take in a sharp breath. Even when he was like this, the sounds you made affected him more than you could ever know. You felt as his cock twitched, his thrusted uneven before he came inside you. The feeling was different than before. It was thicker and it felt like there was more than usual. You gasped, moaning as you felt him thrust a few more times, the thick globs of cum running down your thighs. 

Slowly, you felt him begin to pull out. Your body was too weak and tired to turn around and look at him but that was the last thing on your mind right now. You didn’t care what form he took. He was still yours. And you were still his. You felt him shift around you, his arms pulling you into his chest as he kissed your head. The smell of him flooded your senses as a sense of calm you never felt before came over you. 

His hands were so gentle as he carefully checked for marks and scratches. You felt a warm cloth on your thighs. A cold bottle of water pressed to your lips. You opened your mouth and the bottle tipped so gently. His hands were still on you, gently touching and caressing you. As you opened your eyes gently you saw the oh so familiar black and red mist surrounding you. Cleaning you, giving you water. You felt a kiss on the top of your head as Sylus pulled you closer. 

“Relax, kitten. You’ll need to recover. I’ll take care of everything.”

~•~•~•~

some people on my post asked to be tagged or really seemed to want this so here u guys go i hope you dont mind the tag

@lunacielooo @in-too-deepspace @sefynarose

[ikeuverse]

OPPOSITES — p.jongseong

PAIRING: ceo!jay x fem!reader GENRES: fluff, smut, a little angst WC: 12.1k+

WARNINGS: swearing, drinking, slightly drunk, a brief argument. kissing, foreplay, (almost) dry sex. lmk if i've forgotten anything.

SYNOPSIS: jay was the most serious ceo anyone could meet and remember, but not when you were around. while he had a difficult smile, you captivated anyone with your cheerful and relaxed manner. one night, he decided to take you into his world, the business dinner, but you didn't know if it was a good idea.

NOTES: a little treat i wrote for my little sweetheart @bluej4ym <3 to thank you for all your care and for always being here for me. you deserve more stories (which i'll write later, spoiler yeah) and what's more, you deserve only good things bc you're like that, full of good things. thanks for your friendship, i love you very much. and i hope you enjoy the story as much as i do.

masterlist

Working in a multinational company has two aspects that you can't avoid. First was the growth of shares and partners, dealing with people at the top, and seeing the numbers rise as you closed really important deals. Secondly, there was the gossip that went around the corridors of the company, even more so if you were the CEO.

Jongseong could boast of having a major multinational, being a billionaire, and having shares rising by the second. He took the trouble to congratulate all the employees for their hard work and dedication while they were in that building, giving their all so that the numbers would rise even higher. But Jongseong couldn't control what they said here and there, especially about him.

Not that it was something he needed to care about, like hearing that he was a really serious and scary boss… Well, he could take that title with ease. Jongseong wasn't one for easy smiles and small talk, saying only what was necessary to his employees and being strictly professional and polite. Greeting passers-by regardless of whether they were having a good day or not. But his facade was cold and methodical, as you'd usually hear.

What Jongseong didn't like to deal with was the gossip that arose after he met you. Introducing you as a romantic partner was something he didn't want publicly at the beginning of the relationship, private life being exclusively for the two of you. As well as keeping you out of the eyes of employees he knew would be the talk of the town, Jongseong also liked to have all the time in the world for you. But the town was too small, he had thought when he heard one of the employees say, the next day when he met the two of you in a restaurant.

“The boss is dating a very beautiful woman” he'd boast, having good taste, having heard how beautiful you were and the compliments the young man made on your appearance, although he was a little annoyed that he'd looked at you so much to find out about your physical characteristics.

“Does he really have a heart? I mean, how is he supposed to treat this girl when he's so serious all the time?” well, Jongseong wasn't expecting that comment.

That's what had been hammering at him for so long, not denying any gossip that involved you and him specifically. Since your employees knew, there was no hiding it. This led him to take the liberty of asking you to come to the company a few days a week. Walking hand in hand with you down the corridors or holding your shoulder to guide you, or with his hand on your waist talking about how the evening would go at home and what he was planning for the two of you to have for dinner.

He didn't need any kind of validation from anyone, but he also didn't know how to explain how annoyed he was at the thought of people thinking he didn't pay enough attention to you. Just like you, the woman who stole his heart just by the simple way she treated him. You were unlike anyone he had ever met, and Jongseong would spend hours talking about you and how much you meant to him if it were possible. He would replace the weekly stock meeting just to talk about you.

“Mr. Park?” the voice interrupted him slightly as he rambled on about you and how he felt about you. His eyes left the computer that was open on the stock spreadsheets and quickly went to the door. Jongseong's secretary stared at him with a small smile without showing her teeth, politely and discreetly “I have some papers for you to sign, can I take them?”

“Of course, come in” he settled into his chair, waiting for the secretary to walk towards him and place the papers on the table. Jongseong rolled his eyes at the small mountain of sheets she had placed there and his eyes quickly went to the corner of the desk. A small picture frame was turned towards him, without anyone being able to make out what was there. A photo of you. The first picture he took on the analog camera you had at home. Jongseong hadn't tinkered with these things for a long time, ever since his camera had broken and, with the hustle and bustle of life and work, he'd never thought to fix it. But you had one, and it was in perfect condition. Capturing it was no effort when you were graceful to the extreme and your beauty had been captured without any problem.

He smiled so openly at the photo that he didn't notice that the secretary was still standing in front of his desk. Her gaze followed where he was looking and, curiously, she tried not to bend down to notice the photo, although she had a slight notion that it might be a picture of him or someone he loved very much.

“Do you need anything else, Mr. Park?” she asked shyly, and he noticed the astonishment on her face when he connected the dots… Jongseong had smiled openly for the first time in front of someone other than you or his parents.

“No…” he huffed, picking up one of the sheets from the pile of papers and looking at the written lines to try and disguise how fervently his cheeks were burning “You can go now, miss. Thank you.”

Just as she entered, greeting Jongseong on her way out, the door closed and left the man alone in the room again. It wasn't a big deal to smile like that in front of someone else, but he found it strange and felt that he had let his guard down for an employee he only had a professional relationship with. Jongseong thought he only had to show that side to everyone he worked with, he had no reason to be affectionate like that.

Apart from you, the only person who broke this kind of protocol was someone he knew would be coming into his office in the next few minutes. And without thinking to wait for a call or a message, or even a sign that he was coming in, the door was flung open.

The playful smile on Jaeyun's lips indicated that he had heard something in the corridors of the company.

“What's up, Mr. wide smile?” he hummed after closing the door, his hands in the pockets of his dress pants as he walked slowly over to Jongseong's desk.

“Are they commenting yet?” he snorted, throwing the paper on the table and stretching back in his chair.

“She said you have a beautiful smile” Jaeyun bit his lower lip to stop himself from laughing at his best friend's pained expression as he walked over to the table and sat down in the armchair right in front of his best friend and company owner “I think you should smile more, you know?”

“And I think you should fuck off—”

“Hey, is that how you talk to the vice president? How disrespectful” the other pretended to be offended, his posture mimicking Jongseong's in the chair, throwing all his weight on the back of the armchair while sighing heavily.

Sim Jaeyun had been Jongseong's best friend for as long as he could remember. Remembering Jaeyun running around at company parties when neither of them knew how to add two and two together. He had a tooth missing when he greeted Jongseong for the first time and asked him to play in the middle of a gigantic crystal fountain in a particularly large hall. When Jongseong and Jaeyun broke the statue and fell into the fountain, getting wet from head to toe, it was there that he knew for sure that this boy would be his best friend.

That's why he had asked him to be vice-president of the company because there was no one better than Jaeyun to help him with his business. He had always been by Jongseong's side and seen him through all the good and bad times, where Jongseong wasn't ashamed to be vulnerable around Jaeyun, let alone show the side of him that almost no one knew about.

That's why it was impossible to remain serious around his best friend, even in the workplace. Jongseong didn't like being in the same environment as Jaeyun for too long, especially in meetings, because he knew that at some point his best friend would say something that would make him crack up and laugh at the same time. That was one of the reasons why the two of them hardly had any meetings together, even if Jaeyun did manage to get them together once in a while to talk to some employees.

“Do you know what I was thinking?” Jaeyun asked.

“And you were thinking?” the other joked, receiving Jaeyun's middle finger affectionately and a grimace soon after, making him laugh jokingly.

“We have less than a week until the Swedish partner's welcome dinner” he sighed happily. Jaeyun liked dinners because the buffet was always very well served and he knew that someone always remembered to put out the appetizers he liked. Good champagne and he would judge people's clothes along with you because he knew Jongseong would take it. Jaeyun was sure of it, he made friends with you so easily that it was like a perfect fit that you had come into his best friend's life. Because Jongseong would never say anything about anyone else, even though she was completely underdressed. But Jaeyun knew that you would drop a comment and laugh at something he said because you and he were Jongseong's karma. In a good way.

“And what does that mean? We're going together as a couple again?” it was Jongseong's turn to ask, making his best friend roll his eyes.

“First of all— Ew” he pretended to shudder with disgust, but there were countless times that the two of them went to dinner together. One because neither of them had any thoughts of dating or anything like that, and two because it was cooler to be with his best friend “Secondly, I thought you'd take Y/n. You have to take her!”

“Why?” Jaeyun noticed that Jongseong hesitated a little. His posture shifted in his chair as he uttered his name in the middle of the conversation. He thought his best friend would be happy about the mention and how much Jaeyun liked you, practically a sister-in-law to him. But he saw the company owner's expression change a little.

“Because, well… she's your girlfriend?” it seemed obvious to say something like that, Jongseong wanted to slap himself for acting like that, even more so in front of Jaeyun “And because it's a company event, it's your chance to bring her closer to the gossips who say you treat her badly.”

Jongseong hated how oblivious and sincere his best friend was. The words came out of the other with no intention of hurting or offending, and he knew it. But he also knew how sincere the boy was being because although Jongseong had never been so open about his personal life, having you around where almost everyone – or everyone – from his company was, would be a good opportunity to at least show that he cared about you. Not as he would have liked because you were in public, but he would have tried.

“I don't know why I'm bothering with this, honestly” he put his hands over his face, his voice coming out muffled and he holding back the overwhelming urge to shout. Jongseong was sincere when he said it and he knew that his best friend understood, after all, he had known him almost all his life.

“Maybe it's because you really love her and can't stand the idea of people making things up about you dating her” was another naked truth coming out of the mouth of the world's most sincere best friend, whom Jongseong felt incredibly lucky to have. He took his hands away from his face, letting them rest on his lap as he looked at the boy in front of him.

That was completely true, and also because you were the first person who took him out of the CEO posture and saw him only as Park Jongseong. You saw him as someone other than a suit and tie, expensive clothes, and a closed face. You smiled so beautifully at him that it was then that Jongseong knew he should marry you.

“I hate you” was the only thing he managed to say to Jaeyun, hearing his best friend's laugh after a big thud on the table. He had slapped the thick wood a few times to celebrate that he was right.

“Now that I've convinced you to take Y/n to dinner, I'm going to send her a message” Jaeyun stood up.

“What? You're going to text my girlfriend and say what?” Jongseong narrowed his eyes at the boy.

“I want to ask if that best friend of hers is available… What's her name again?” Jongseong listened to Jaeyun speak several names until he guessed the name of his best friend, whom he had seen a few times when the two of you went out together somewhere more relaxed.

Jongseong genuinely laughed at this, Jaeyun's intentions always being serious, but with a comic undertone that took away all the weight of working hard all week. He watched his best friend walk out of the office humming something without saying another word, leaving him there with a smile on his lips and the thought of introducing you to a sea of people next week.

Jongseong had parked in front of your apartment countless times, waiting for you to come down and walk out the door as gracefully as ever. This time something seemed different and he knew he was too nervous – and unnecessarily so. It was just a dinner he was tired of being at, with boring people, although the subjects were really necessary. He was cordial and polite to partners and future investors, waving and greeting people who were as rich as he was just to make an average while sipping some expensive drink he didn't even care about.

Having you by his side that night would make things a little different. Jongseong didn't know if it had been a good idea to invite you to that dinner, he knew it was a world you weren't used to, although he never said he felt uncomfortable knowing how much he was part of it. Your life, completely opposite to his, was what gave grace and balance to the relationship between the two of you. While Jongseong was counting the company's millions in revenue, wearing a suit worth almost a hundred thousand and always with his hair combed with gel and straightened, you were the opposite. A baggy, comfortable suit soiled with some kind of paint or clay, your hair curled or tied up however, you could manage, inside a room full of art and paintings that you sold everywhere or gave lessons on how to make a good canvas painting. You made your money quietly and unhurriedly, while Jongseong needed figures and results the moment he opened a spreadsheet on his computer.

While he was serious and had no chance for a relaxed smile, you smiled at everyone and greeted anyone who passed in front of you. Your good mood was recognized by Jongseong the day you met, in the coffee shop you shared – in secret – because he knew it was the only quiet place, while you liked the aroma of the coffee and the few people who went there. He was in such a hurry the day he entered that establishment that he didn't see you and knocked over all the coffee you had just paid for.

There was no way he could have cursed you, after all, it was his fault because he didn't look where he was going. He didn't wait for you to pass and even made you waste your drink. Looking in your direction, you kept a smile on your face, even though your T-shirt was dirty with iced caramel coffee. Apologies wouldn't be enough for him to make up for what had happened, so buying you another coffee would be the least he could do. But as soon as he sat down at the table to wait for the compensation coffee, he was surprised by your good humor and smooth talk.

As if you weren't intimidated by him and how well-dressed he was in front of you. Nor did you care that your coffee was sticking to your shirt by now and the smell of caramel was invading the conversation you were both having. Jongseong never thought it would be so easy to talk to someone until he met you. Until he fell in love with you so naturally that he wanted to see you even more every day.

Jongseong sighed slowly, feeling nostalgic for the first day he laid eyes on you. How lucky he was that everything had turned out the way it had… He was overcome by that feeling until he stared at the entrance to your building. There you were. As beautiful as he remembered you to be. So perfect walking towards him while carefully holding the scarf that covered your shoulders to keep the wind from hitting you as the night went on. Although you were covered by his blazer by the end of the night, though.

“Hey” you said as soon as you got close enough, giving that smile that Jongseong was sure was his fuel for anything.

“Hey, darling” Jongseong said back, stretching out his hand enough to touch your waist over the dress. The silk making contact with his skin and the softness of the fabric made him smile. It hugged his body so perfectly that Jongseong was beginning to wonder if he should take you like that.

“Do you like it? Jake helped me choose, he said you'd like this color” your pout was soon broken by his lips, a quick kiss without much depth since you were both still out of the car. Jongseong took a good look again. The navy blue silk highlighted everything about you; from the color of your eyes, the tone of your hair, and even the tone of your skin. He certainly liked that color.

“He knows me on this” Jongseong kissed your lips once more, his other hand going to your face to caress your cheeks and feel the softness of your skin this time “You look stunning, baby.”

“I'm glad you liked it, love” you thanked him, and it was your turn to kiss him quickly to pull away and pull him into the car. You didn't know what time dinner would start on the dot, but you were sure that Jongseong couldn't be late, after all, he was the CEO. He would need to be there a little earlier as he had to welcome the guests and greet a world of important people.

He wasn't a difficult person for you to read, ever since you first met, so this evening it was easy for you to notice how nervous Jongseong seemed. From getting into the car and holding your thigh as his drove, to arriving at the dinner space and getting out of the car with you. Everything seemed to move in slow motion and every time you saw him look in your direction, his adam's apple would jiggle a little more, indicating that Jongseong was swallowing dry for some reason. A reason you couldn't think of. Perhaps asking Jaeyun would be a good idea since he was with Bonnie, your best friend. The two of them were relaxed with each other and would be your company while Jongseong went off to greet the first business partners of the evening.

“Do you two want something to drink?” Jaeyun asked when he found the table that the four of you would be sitting at for the rest of the evening, with only Jongseong left to join you.

“You can bring me whatever you're drinking” Bonnie smiled at Jaeyun, who smiled back.

“I think I'll take a water.”

“What?” Jaeyun's expression contorted, a grimace appearing as he wrinkled his forehead at you while sticking out his tongue “We have so many nice drinks and you're going to ask me for water? Please, Y/n.”

“That's right Y/n, how about the three of us have a drink together?” Bonnie tried to cheer you up with Jaeyun's help. If denying your best friend was a difficult task, having someone else do it made it even worse.

You weren't able to say anything else before Jaeyun left in search of a really good drink in addition to a glass of water. Meanwhile, the moment passed in complete silence between you and your best friend, because she knew you needed some time to yourself. That environment was something different for you and knowing that the stares you received were because you were known as the CEO's girlfriend. What would they think of you… that you were a gold-digger? Or did Jongseong's employees even know about the solid relationship you and he had?

It was clear that he acted strangely when it came to you and his working environment, and it was something you didn't question or care much about. Because you didn't meet Park Jongseong, the CEO. You met Jay, Jongie, the loving man who smiled at you no matter what situation he faced that day. The man with the warmest hugs and the best kiss you've ever tasted in your life.

Much of that dinner was a blur to you after Jaeyun brought some drinks and the three of you chatted about various things, with a little time left over to judge the outfits of people who swore they looked great in that space. But in fact, they were dressed so strangely. Like… Even you, who had never been to such a fancy dinner before, knew how to dress – although Jaeyun helped you with the choice because he knew what Jongseong liked – but that was no excuse! You looked much better than the people who were the talk of the table.

Jongseong had finally joined the table and the conversation between him and Bonnie was pleasant, making you feel good that your boyfriend got on well with your best friend. Just as you and Jaeyun had gotten along. Your boyfriend kept his hand on your thigh under the table, stroking your leg as the conversation between him and your best friend flowed smoothly. The tender touch of Jongseong's fingers, was a silent way of telling you that he was there for you, even though his perfume was everywhere. At least to you, who could tell exactly what he smelled like?

You looked at Jongseong's profile, his sharp jaw and plump lips making your heart race. The way his dimples appeared every time he smiled at something the other two at the table said made your heart leap a little more than usual in your boyfriend's presence. You got so lost in his face, in Jongseong's stunning beauty that you didn't notice when he abandoned his conversation with Jaeyun and Bonnie to look in your direction.

“Admiring?” Jongseong said, a low tone knowing that you would hear it anyway because of how close you had to each other.

“Feeling lucky, maybe” you shrugged, noticing him leaning towards you. His face a few centimeters away from yours, Jongseong's gaze lowered to your lips and then back to your eyes.

“Lucky for what?” he asked, shifting his gaze back and forth between your eyes and your mouth. The way he did it was so natural, yet it made you boil with shyness. Your cheeks would already be visibly flushed if it weren't for the make-up masking it and the amount of alcohol you'd drunk. You could blame it on Jaeyun and Bonnie.

“For having you with me” you finally replied, causing Jongseong's gallant exterior to crumble and giving way to the man with the silly smile and passionate gaze. He leaned in a little closer, his forehead touching yours and the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

Even if you knew that that intimate touch was the furthest the two of you had gone in front of everyone, you didn't know that practically all of his employees would be watching and commenting on it. Seeing how enamored Jongseong seemed to be with that simple touch.

“If I'm going to count myself lucky on this, then I'm the luckiest man on the planet” with a final whisper, he was ready to kiss your lips. Tasting the flavor of the drinks you'd had that night and how the fruity ones would have tasted on your tongue against his if it hadn't been for the mere interruption.

“Sorry to disturb you” Jongseong felt your breath quicken against your face, slowly pulling away so that he could straighten up and pay attention to whoever was calling him. And so he did. Sitting properly next to you as he had before, his hand still lingering on your leg as he looked at the middle-aged man standing behind Jaeyun's chair “I didn't mean to interrupt the guys, but I need you two with a so-called investor near the bar. Can you accompany me?”

A company dinner with business at a time that didn't need to happen. Jongseong and Jaeyun hated being president and vice president at this time.

“Will you wait for me for a few minutes?” he turned towards you, his eyes meeting yours effortlessly. The intense glare in your gaze made Jongseong unable to control himself even a little, so he leaned in and captured your lips without waiting for you to give anything away.

It was no lie to say that Jongseong had the best kiss in the world, even more so when he started caressing your lips with his cracked lips. The muscle of Jongseong's tongue came into contact with yours slowly and gradually, tasting the light fruitiness of the cocktail you'd had a while ago. He knew he would taste it, knew it would match the slow kiss you two shared. Unfortunately for both of you, the time had come to pull away and Jongseong did so with a small smile as he noticed the surprise on your face at having such a sudden kiss.

You held back the urge to laugh when Jaeyun came out and slapped Jongseong on the shoulder in excitement at the kiss that had just taken place. You caught a glimpse of the best friends pestering each other as, together, they walked to the bar where there were a few men much older than the two of them.

“I guess it's just you and me now, dear best friend” Bonnie moved between the chairs to sit next to you, facing the bar where the two boys had arrived a few minutes before. She slowly laid her head on your shoulder, feeling the weight of your head resting on hers straight away.

“How about some more cocktails? I loved what Jake brought us both.”

“That's how you say it. That's my Y/n!” she celebrated, raising her head and making you raise yours too. Bonnie's smile infected yours, along with her excitement at getting up from the table and going after another cocktail to face the rest of the night.

Jongseong's eyes were asking for help as he looked at Jaeyun and saw him order another glass of whiskey from the old man sitting between them. The deal had been made a long time ago, but the older man insisted on drinking a little more to celebrate. He didn't even want to celebrate more than he should have, one glass of whiskey was enough and Jongseong just wanted to go back to sitting at your table, be in your arms, and get out of that dinner.

Thinking about you and how much he missed you, he turned towards the table where you were supposed to be with Bonnie, expecting to see you talking to your best friend. But what Jongseong found was an empty table and nothing but the empty glasses that you all drank before leaving there.

He looked around, looking for some sign from you or Bonnie so he could have an excuse with which he could walk away, say that one of you two needed his help with something and get Jaeyun out of there too.

Jongseong was starting to get nervous without seeing you for more than two minutes, no sign of you anywhere. Then he looked at Jaeyun, as tired and bored as he was. Waving to his best friend as a silent request to leave, neither of them thought much other than to give a small excuse to the old man and walk away.

“What’s wrong, man?” Jaeyun whispered as the two of them walked away, looking at the table where the two of you should be and finding it empty “Oh, I see” then he started to search the place together with Jongseong.

“I think we can split up for a bit, maybe” he suggested as he started to get impatient. He had already walked through the long dining room and not a single solid spark from you or Bonnie. He sighed heavily, Jaeyun looking around before landing his eyes on his best friend.

“The second floor has some rooms from what the organization people said” he answered to Jongseong “Do you want to look there and I’ll go outside to see if the girls went out for some air?”

“Great idea, I’ll go up,” Jongseong said.

Climbing the stairs two at a time, he didn’t know he was capable of being as fast on a staircase as he was at that moment. The second floor was huge and he would spare no effort to open each door to get a signal. Maybe one of you two was drunk and needed some help and wouldn’t be able to speak. Jongseong thought he should have left someone from the company to keep an eye on you at least, so he would know where you were just by asking. But that annoying man rented his and Jaeyun’s time in such a long and tiring way that he didn’t even have time to think.

“Park Jongseong?” he didn’t want to see anyone right now other than you, but the call of his name made him turn towards the vast and empty corridor. Jongseong looked at the woman who was approaching, an eyebrow raised and a smile on her lips that made him wonder what was going on in her head.

“Yes, it’s me” he tried to sound as cordial as possible, as he did with everyone he talked to that night. The woman took a few more steps before stopping dangerously in front of Jongseong, her hand stopping halfway as she wondered whether or not she should raise it and touch him.

“I was looking for you.”

“Looking for me? What would be the reason?” he asked, a little confused when she took another step and Jongseong felt his back hit the wall furiously.

“I can breathe a sigh of relief because my husband finally closed a deal with you” her hand ran down his chest to the top button of his shirt, where she quickly unbuttoned it. Jongseong would have raised his hand to close it and push her away, but the woman was so close that any movement could make him touch some part of her body that he didn’t want to do at all. “That way I can go to your office often. Such a wonderful view…” she held his face between her hands, this time there was no way to think and Jongseong touched her hands to push her away, mentally cursing himself for touching the skin of another woman who wasn’t you.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think you understand” he tried not to sound as nervous as he was, breathing deeply so that his tone wouldn’t falter and remain serious. Jongseong looked at the woman who was trying to maintain an innocent look, which didn’t match what she wanted to do. “I closed a deal with your husband because the offer was great. And I have a girlfriend, so—”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Jongseong” she laughed. “That doesn’t work in the business world…”

He felt sorry for the man who had married her because if this was happening here, Jongseong couldn’t count how many times the woman in front of him had slept with her husband’s business partners. Did she think she would do that to him now? It made his stomach churn at the thought.

Jongseong looked ahead, looking for some sign that she was backing away so he could gently push her away and leave as quickly as possible. But again, the woman didn’t seem to give up and held his face tighter. Her perfectly painted and aligned nails dug into his skin strangely and painfully. Jongseong wanted to scream and tell all etiquette and manners to go to hell, he just wanted to get out of there. The woman stood on her tiptoes and leaned in to kiss him, but he was faster. His face turned in the opposite direction to hers to feel her lipsticked lips touching near the final line of his jaw.

This was something he would have to explain to you, the lipstick mark on your skin or any mark on your face that would have been left if you weren't at the end of the hallway. He felt his chest burn and his eyes widen when your figure was there, standing there and completely confused. Jongseong found some strength to push the woman in front of him without caring about any explanation. The only thing on his mind was to run towards you even though you were running in the opposite direction this time.

“Y/n, wait!” he shouted as loud as he could, running through the hallways until he came down the stairs after you. Jongseong didn’t know how you were so fast after a few cocktails, not even he was able to catch up to you.

The sea of ​​people flooded the hall and the entrance, coming in and out, walking in all directions. But he was focused on your figure heading outside, so that’s where he would head without thinking twice.

“Y/n, please listen to me” Jongseong shouted once more, his breath hitching as he continued running towards you until he saw that there was no escape for you anymore. The parking lot wall is the barrier to stop you from continuing to move away from him “Love, I—”

“Don’t call me that, please” by the tone of your voice he knew that you were holding back tears, and it hurt to know that it was because of him. Because of what you had seen. But what Jongseong wanted most was to explain to you everything that had happened.

“I call you because you’re my love” he continued, walking towards you even though you still had your back to him. Hearing each step of your boyfriend getting closer and closer until his warmth was against your back, “Can you turn around to face me, please?”

As much as he wanted to hold you, turn you around, and kiss you to get rid of any thoughts, he knew he had no right to do that at that moment. So he waited patiently until you turned around, finding your face blurred by tears and your eyes slightly red.

Jongseong hated himself so much at that moment. He hated himself more than anything in the world.

“Did you see everything that happened?” he asked, seeing you nod slowly, “Did you see that I tried to push her away—”

“Jongseong” he froze in place, it was his turn to widen his eyes because you never called him Jongseong. Even when you were mad at him, his name never left your lips. That hurt more than seeing you cry.

“Don’t call me that, you never call me Jongseong.”

“Jongseong” you repeated, your lower lip trembling and your eyes burning a little more. The nail marks on his cheek were still evident. You had seen everything from the beginning, since when that disgusting woman showed interest in your boyfriend thinking he would be another one she would sleep with. The shock had been so great that you hadn’t been able to scream to push her away or do anything, so it was only when your boyfriend walked away that your presence had been noticed in that hallway. You just wanted to find a bathroom to use, anyway, and ended up finding the worst scene that you wanted to forget now “If this happens at a dinner I've been invited to, I wonder what must have happened on the nights you were alone since we started dating.”

“What? Honey, no—”

Your broken sob was the last thing he heard before you walked away again. The desire he had at that moment was to go back to that hallway and make that woman tell him the whole truth about things. Jongseong had never been through a situation like that, the shock running through every fiber of his body as the vivid image of your face contorted in pain and sadness broke him more and more.

“Fuck” he threw his head back, wanting to scream as loud as he could until that horrible feeling passed. Even though he knew it wouldn’t.

Two weeks had passed, and Jaeyun counted on the calendar on his desk and his cell phone. Today was the end of two weeks exactly in which Jongseong had not left the office for anything. Meetings were postponed or only attended by Jaeyun. Calls were answered only by his secretary, with the answers to reschedule visits or that he was not available at the moment. And seeing him in the company hallways? No one did that. Jongseong would arrive an hour before everyone else arrived, only the security guards were able to find him wandering the hallways before entering the confines of his office and leaving an hour after work ended. He didn't want to be disturbed by anything.

"This is getting worrying" Jaeyun looked at his best friend's secretary. Yuna was a cool intern – and a gossip – but not in a bad way, she was the one who passed on all the information to him while Jongseong didn't participate in it. Jaeyun was a more relaxed boss, according to her.

“He postponed another meeting for next week” Yuna looked at the notes of all the interactions she had with the boss and owner of the company. Each message was written down with details and the times the contacts had happened, all so she could keep him informed later. “Do you think we should do something?”

“What if I go to his office?” Jaeyun asked her.

“Mr. Sim, you know that—” she hesitated a little, unsure of what to say, but when Jaeyun continued, Yuna knew she wasn’t that wrong.

“We won’t know without trying, right? And he can’t fight me for this, don’t worry” Jaeyun smiled at the girl and pushed herself off the counter of her desk, walking to Jongseong’s office. He missed the sigh of distress that Yuna gave, knowing the boss and owner of that entire building well. Jongseong would probably scold Jaeyun for bothering him like he did two days ago when Jaeyun insisted that he go out at least to eat something.

With a determined sigh, Jaeyun didn't even need to knock on the door and entered the room like he always did. This time just opening the door wide and walking in.

“I told you to get out of here, Jaeyun” the other didn't even need to take his eyes off the computer to know that, once again, his best friend was trying to interact.

“Since when do you call me Jaeyun, you shit?” he walked over to Jongseong's desk, looking around and noticing the mountain of trash and takeout food. His best friend wasn't like that, never had been. This was worrying him to an absurd level and he didn't know what to do.

Or he did know, he just wanted to test it a little and see how far he could go.

“Since when do you disobey my orders” Jongseong finally looked at him. Dark circles under his eyes and eyes almost screaming for a minute of rest where he could lay his head on the pillow and get some sleep. Jaeyun wondered how long his best friend slept each night to be like that. “Now, please, get out of my office.”

“No” he replied, making Jongseong’s eyes widen. “What? Did I stutter, Jongseong?” leaning on the table, his hands in front of his body and his head down, Jaeyun looked at him a little more seriously. Looking away across the table, Park Jongseong hated how much the boy in front of him knew him so well. He didn’t want to be like that and he also didn’t want anyone to see him like that.

“Jake, go to your office, please?”

“Only if you go home, take a shower, and get some sleep” he said. Jongseong gave a sad smile, really wanting things to be that simple. That he could get at least a little sleep, but every time he laid his head on the pillow, the image of your face came to his mind.

The first few nights, Jongseong could still see the sadness in your eyes and your last words to him before running away. Then he forced himself to think about the good times you shared during the time you were together. Your smile and your touch that he missed so much. The way you called him and told him your feelings in a melody so beautiful that it was the sound of your voice. Jongseong was lost without you.

“That’s not going to happen…”

“Either you go home, or I—”

“What?” he asked, interrupting Jaeyun in the same second.

He seemed to think for a moment, pondering whether to say what was on his mind or leave Jongseong on the edge of curiosity. He decided to go for the second option and pushed himself away from the table.

“You’re leaving this room today, wait for me” he said finally, walking through the room until he left without giving his friend a chance to answer.

It was all or nothing, he needed to do this even if it cost him something that Jaeyun didn’t even know what it was. But the sadness and worry of seeing his best friend like that was even greater than anything, so he would risk everything to make Jongseong leave that room that day.

“So?” Yuna asked curiously, looking at Jaeyun with expectation and excitement. She knew that the two were best friends and could get everything from each other.

“I couldn’t get him to leave there” he began saying, seeing that she was getting a little disappointed with what she was hearing. But as soon as Jaeyun took the cell phone in his hands, continuing to talk, Yuna smiled along with him, “But I know someone who can get everything from him.”

The sound of the computer keyboard combined with the traffic outside the building was the only sound Jongseong had heard for almost forty minutes. No interruptions from his best friend or his secretary. No one had contacted him through Yuna, much less asked to speak to him. It was incredibly peaceful, although his mind was in turmoil.

Jongseong was grateful for the amount of work that occupied his mind for most of the day, although he needed to review some documents since he got lost every time he looked at the photo on the table. Your face in it made him sigh and stop for a few minutes, messing up his hair and wondering what was going on. He wished he could go back in time and simply switch places with Jaeyun and go look for you and Bonnie downstairs. Or better yet, not accept the deal with that man and not have to deal with his freakish unfaithful wife.

Everything would be in perfect condition and Jongseong wouldn't have lost you like that. He felt incomplete and unhappy, just like he used to before he met you.

Jongseong's thoughts screamed self-deprecation. He would have continued doing this for the rest of the day if he hadn't been interrupted by a knock on the door. It wasn't Jaeyun, he was sure of that. His best friend never knocked on his door. It could only be Yuna, and she wasn't to blame for what was happening, so when he politely asked her to come in, Jongseong wasn't surprised to see her standing with the door open.

“Mr. Park, sorry to bother you” she began, almost as if it had been rehearsed during those two weeks when Jongseong had asked her not to be disturbed. He knew she was making an effort to keep him informed of everything even though he didn't want to be there.

“Do you need anything?” he asked her.

“There's an urgent visitor for you” Yuna pressed her lips together, a little hesitant. Jongseong frowned for a moment, not remembering anyone who was an urgent visitor for him.

“Is this another one of Jaeyun’s works? Because if it is…” when Yuna didn’t answer, Jongseong knew his best friend was involved in this. He sighed heavily, taking his hands away from the computer and throwing his head back. “Okay, send Jaeyun’s visitor in, then.”

The last time Jaeyun had mentioned an urgent visitor, he had taken Sunghoon and Heeseung into Jongseong’s office so they could drink bottles of soju since he couldn’t leave until he signed the last report of the week. He didn’t want to drink right now, no drop of alcohol would be able to take away what he was feeling. He appreciated his best friend’s attempts even if he didn’t know if it would work this time.

But Jongseong should also know that Jaeyun never messed around. Not when it came to getting what he wanted since the two had become friends since they were little. When he heard Jaeyun say that he would get out of that office at any cost, he didn't know that the boy would appeal and call for you. You were standing at the door of Jongseong's office now.

“Make yourself at home, Miss Y/n” Yuna’s voice brought Jongseong back to reality as soon as she said your name, waving in your direction and smiling widely as she left you there, closing the door to leave just you and him inside the room.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” he almost stumbled over his own words, stuttering a little as he abruptly got up from the table, dropping some papers. Jongseong tried to fix some strands of his hair, which was certainly more disheveled than when he woke up.

“Jaeyun called me” as he heard your voice for the first time, almost like a song hypnotizing him, Jongseong walked around the table and approached you in slow steps. Looking your body up and down, your loose and casual clothes, just as he remembered, making you so beautiful that he swore he felt his heart swell even more. “Aren’t you eating, Jongseong?”

Now his heart could shrink in size when he heard you call him Jongseong again, falling back into the reality of the state you two were in at that moment. But he didn't care, he wanted to be close to you, so he stopped in front of you and let you look at him.

Apart from you, only Jaeyun was capable of that, of looking so closely. So he let you examine every particle of his face. From his unkempt skin to his tired eyes. His disheveled hair and his shirt looked like they hadn't been ironed or cared for in a few days as if Jongseong had just taken the same fabric and put it on in the rush of the moment.

“Sorry, I—” his adam's apple moved as he searched for the right words to answer you, feeling his eyes burn when he looked at you so closely “I don't want to leave the office, so…”

“So you're leaving now” you wanted to be firm at that moment, but you were as broken as he was.

When Jaeyun called you and asked for help, you had already been planning to see Jongseong for a few days. Your anger had already passed and you managed to cool your head about everything that had happened, talking to Bonnie and listening to the story Jaeyun told her about what had happened. It matched exactly what you saw from the beginning. Jongseong was not and never had been a cheater and a betrayer, you knew that. But your emotions were so intense that you could only think of the worst and wanted to push him away, although you didn't know that the result of that would be the man in front of you like that.

“What?” he asked.

“Let's go home” Jongseong almost moaned tearfully when your hand touched his face, letting a tear escape due to the sudden contact. Pulling his face close, you felt his forehead touch yours “You go take a shower, I'll cook something and then we can talk, okay?”

“As you wish” he replied, his voice choked and his breath mixed with yours due to the closeness you two were in.

You reluctantly walked away, looking around and sighing at the carelessness of the place Jongseong had left. You felt guilty for getting him into that state, all it took was one phone call for him to come and meet you and the two of you to sort things out. But you also knew that if you had done it earlier, it might not have been the right time and you both might not be able to talk. You preferred not to think about what could have been and just focus on what was happening now.

Jongseong approached the chair and grabbed his blazer, throwing it over his arm and turning off the computer screen. Spreadsheets and files were being saved automatically and he wouldn't have to worry about that, because he was finally leaving his office with you.

Your steps were slow in front of him as if you were waiting for him to catch up with you until you reached the door to his office. Looking over your shoulder, you gave a small smile when you saw him standing right behind you. Then your actions were almost automatic, reaching out your hand for Jongseong to hold. He intertwined his fingers with yours. Your soft, velvety skin contrasted with the roughness of his hand, sending a shiver through both of your bodies.

Your grip between his fingers was enough to make Jongseong smile a little, his heart almost jumping out of his mouth at your smile for him. With your free hand, you opened the door, going out first and taking Jongseong with you out of the room.

“Shit, I knew it” Jaeyun almost shouted along with Yuna when he saw you leave the room hand in hand with Jongseong. The two of them looked like teenagers watching a couple of friends make it work because Jaeyun and Yuna clapped their hands against each other in a funny celebration.

“Yuna?” Jongseong called for the secretary, causing her and Jaeyun’s celebration to be quickly interrupted. “Tomorrow I’m going to take the day off, rest… Can you pass my demands on to Jaeyun?”

“Sure, Mr. Park” she smiled at you and Jongseong. Jaeyun didn’t even care that he would have double the work to do. If that meant his best friend would be resting, then he would be fine.

“Thank you” Jaeyun hissed at you as Jongseong turned his back to head to the company elevators. You thanked him back, waving to Yuna as well and following Jongseong to the path he needed to take.

A lighter mood settled between the two of you and even spread to Jaeyun and Yuna. The boy was right when he said that you would be the one to get Jongseong out of that place. He should have bet with Yuna that this would happen because he would have won. But the only thing he got was extra work for an entire day.

But as Jaeyun thought, he wasn’t going to complain about that. His best friend’s rest, combined with the well-being of his relationship, was all the boy wanted to happen.

Vulnerability was something that wasn't part of Jongseong's vocabulary until he met you. Before, he was able to handle professional pressures well, finding some amusement when people in the business flirted with him or Jaeyun. Nothing had ever happened, they were both too professional for that, but it always ended up being a topic of conversation for Jongseong the next morning. He also didn't let the few breakups he had gotten him down, managing to settle down and focus on what was most important: his company with Jaeyun.

But as soon as he met you, a lot of things started to change. Jongseong couldn't find people's boldness funny anymore, although he preferred to keep his personal life very private. He didn't cut Jaeyun off when his best friend said that the future Mrs. Park would be waiting. No partner or investor knew your name, but they knew about you just by the way he talked about you.

Jongseong also didn't know if those two weeks had been a real breakup between you and him or if it was just time you needed to get your head together. The only thing he was sure of was that it had hurt him in a way he had never been able to feel before. The anguish and fear of losing you were overwhelming. Jongseong didn't know what to do or what to think, leaving almost all the time lost in thoughts about you and being guided by Jaeyun when he needed some direction in the middle of work for a few minutes.

But as soon as you showed up at his office, showing concern and that you were there, he was able to respond with relief. Driving home with you in the passenger seat, constantly hearing you ask if he was hungry and what he wanted to eat. That was the most distant dream he had ever imagined living with you. The little things – after such a difficult time – made the boy feel luckier and luckier.

He came out of the shower with damp hair after what seemed like an eternity between going to the market to buy what was missing – Jongseong ignored your scolding after he said he hadn't done any food shopping in those two weeks – and arriving carrying the groceries, leaving you in the kitchen to prepare everything. He wanted to go with you, to watch you cook what you two had agreed on. But he also didn't want to be a hypocrite and say he wasn't tired. All the adrenaline mixed with all the distressing feelings Jongseong felt during that time were replaced by the calm that your presence brought to him, so taking a long shower was the only thing he should be concerned about at that moment. Your words after he went upstairs to his room.

Now that everything was finished, he could go down and meet you in the kitchen, guided by the delicious smell of curry that couldn't be missing from that recipe. Jongseong tried not to make any noise as he came down and stopped at the kitchen door, watching you. The care with which you prepared, your quick smiles as you chopped up a spice or added another ingredient to the pan. That was more valuable than anything he could ever have in life.

“Jongseong, what a scare!” you said as soon as you noticed his presence, making his smile widen even more. Taking slow steps, he entered the kitchen and walked a little further until he stopped next to you. Leaning his forehead on your shoulder and inhaling your scent now. The scent he missed even more if he had to admit it. “Are you hungry?” you asked.

“A little” he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his hands on your belly and breathing slowly. “Is it ready yet?”

“Yes, I promise” You smiled even though he wasn’t seeing it. Your speed in the kitchen was enviable, but he knew you did everything in the best way you could just so he could get out of the shower with the food already prepared, needing a real meal.

Between the moment he hugged you and the moment the meal was finally ready, everything passed like a blur for Jongseong. Eating in silence by your side, enjoying the good food and the glances and smiles at each other. He made sure to hold your hand between bites, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb and listening to you sigh beside him, everything so perfectly that if it had been Jongseong's delusion and he was still in the office, he wouldn't want to wake up.

“You—” he started to say, you were focused on putting the dishes in the sink and soon turned to him after the two of you finished eating “Do you mind spending the night here with me?”

He looked away after asking, afraid of any reaction from you. Jongseong took a step back to give you space in case you wanted to leave, but he was surprised when he heard you call him slowly.

“Do you want to go upstairs to rest now?” your question could already be a complete answer to him, Jongseong wouldn't even argue anymore. You would stay, he was sure of it.

Pulling you close to him by holding one of your hands, he was content to just guide you to the bedroom upstairs. Without saying a single word for fear he would ask you something and you would go back and leave him there alone. Jongseong wouldn't be able to face that house without you for so long. Even though you didn't live with him yet, at least before your visits were frequent, maybe even overnight stays. But for two weeks, you both lost that.

As soon as you both entered the bedroom, he went straight to the closet to look for something. You waited patiently, walking around the bed and going near the table where he usually got ready before going to work or going out. The smell of the mix of strong perfumes with Jongseong's after-shower scent was incredible. Everything in that room screamed his name and how the particularities of a serious man were completely guarded when he was with you.

“Here it is” he approached you, a piece of cloth in his hands that was only identified by your eyes when he stopped in front of you. It was one of the loose shirts he lent you to wear when you slept here.

No expensive pajamas or lace things, he knew that, your essence could not be bought. And he didn’t even want to. It was this difference between you and him that made the boy fall even more in love with you.

In silence, you began to undress, not caring about Jongseong’s eyes on your body or any corner he wanted to stare at. You, on the other hand, never took your eyes off his face. Wanting to catch every and any reaction as you took off your clothes, remaining only in your panties. Taking the shirt from his hand and easily pulling it over your head and letting the fabric fall on your body.

“Let’s lie down, you need it” you whispered to him, looking him up and down and seeing the small effect you began to have on him. Between the sweetness of the relationship between the two of you, you knew that you were the one who provoked Jongseong the most in this regard, and being away for so long was also making you miss him just as much as he missed you.

Feeling the soft fabric of his bed sheets and the blankets covering the two of you, Jongseong sighed. A sigh of relief as he wrapped one of his arms around your waist and pulled you close. His lips rested on your forehead before lowering his face and resting his forehead against yours this time.

“Do you want to listen to me now?” Jongseong asked you, trying to ignore the provocation from a few minutes ago and focus on something else. Maybe this conversation would be a good one.

“I… would love to” you pondered, but you knew he wanted to talk and that you had come there to talk too. So you let him tell you everything. Every little detail from the first word about how things happened.

You wouldn't hide from him that you had heard this from Jaehyun and Bonnie too, and how you had seen the scene from the beginning. But it happened like a shock and just like Jongseong, you had never experienced that kind of thing in a relationship. Not that you had many, but all the bad feelings invaded you, and dealing with it was something you couldn't do. So those two weeks had been frustrating, but at the same time necessary for you to think.

After all, your relationship with Jongseong was different from everything you and he had ever experienced before. The things that happened had to be dealt with between the two of you, so asking for his help or leaning on him on those occasions was the right thing to do.

“Thank you” he said after a while, his eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips, searching for any sign that you wanted to talk more or that you regretted talking to him. But the lightness in his expression said otherwise.

“For what, exactly?” you asked.

“For coming here and talking to me” Jongseong began speaking, his grip on your waist slowly softening and giving way to a caress with his fingertips as he lifted the fabric of your shirt to touch your skin. “For taking such good care of me” that innocent and sweet whisper went straight to your heart, but his hands against your skin were doing something else to you.

You had to act fast, not stay behind. The conversation between you had already happened and you needed to take care of him completely.

“But I didn’t take care of you enough” you whispered, feeling Jongseong’s affection stop quickly.

“What? What do you mean—” when your lips pressed against his, he knew what you were talking about.

Letting you kiss him now was the only thing he could handle. Your tongue slowly entered his mouth as Jongseong returned to caressing your waist, pulling your face closer, and pressing you against his chest. In that kiss, everything you two felt for each other during your relationship was transmitted, in addition to what you deprived each other of when you were apart.

Your hands slowly moved towards his chest, making their way slowly to tease him as you guided yourself to the drawstrings of the sweatpants he wore. Jongseong could only sigh and moan against your mouth, the feeling of your hand on his body sending electric shocks through every little fiber of his being.

In a slow but deliberate movement, Jongseong got between your legs and let you continue the path of your hand to his pants. Keeping up with your rhythm as his hands moved up the shirt you were wearing, revealing every part of your skin to him.

Jongseong ran his teeth over your lower lip, sucking on the fleshy flesh of your mouth when your hand finally found his cock still covered by his underwear. Moaning into your mouth had become a habit ever since you kissed him in bed. He made no effort to hide the sounds that were being caused by you. As soon as your hand grabbed the outline of his cock, Jongseong slowly ground his hips to force the length into your palm, so small and yet so strong against his throbbing cock.

“Fuck, Y/n” he moaned as he pulled away from your mouth, his chapped lips shiny with saliva sliding over your skin until they found their way to your neck. Placing small kisses on the area, going down to the particular spot between your neck and your earlobe, Jongseong left a small hickey. Smiling against your skin when you moaned in response, tightening your fingers around his cock.

“Jongseong, please” you asked hoarsely, right after your moan and trying not to falter in your tone. Knowing how impossible it was he teased you even more.

At your request, Jongseong lifted your shirt to below your breasts, enough so that the full view of your belly and panties were exposed to him. With his free hand, he took your hand off his dick and lowered his sweatshirt until he kicked it off his feet, leaving only the underwear and shirt he was still wearing.

“What do you want?” he asked, aligning the outline of his dick still covered by his underwear perfectly with the lips of your pussy covered by your wet and shiny panties. The shape was visible due to your arousal.

“I want—” you moaned loudly when the head of Jongseong’s dick hit your clit. It was sensitive and swollen, and you wanted nothing more than to be touched, but with that attitude, you knew your boyfriend had other plans.

“I asked…” Jongseong pressed his cock deeper into your clothed pussy, his slit covered in precum mixing with your essence as it made your panties even wetter along with his boxers. “What do you want?”

For lack of response, he knew the effect it had when he teased you like that. But Jongseong didn’t want things to end so quickly, so he lowered his boxers just enough to release his throbbing, aching cock. With the same hand, he traced the outline of your crotch where your panties were clinging, feeling the essence dripping from how wet you were.

He looked down for a moment, his fingers becoming almost transparent from how wet you were as he pulled your panties away. With his free hand, Jongseong ran his cock along the side of your panties, feeling the pressure of the fabric as he managed to place his length right above your clit.

“Fuck, you’re not going to— You’re not going to tease me like that” you whimpered a little too late because Jongseong began to thrust his hips slowly, making your pussy soak his entire length. With each touch of his cockhead to your clit, you wanted to cry out from the stimulation.

Jongseong swallowed a loud moan, the noise of excitement growing more intense as he soaked his entire cock in your pussy, his hips slowly moving enough.

“Why, hm?” he asked, his gaze lifting to yours as he picked up the pace. Your fucked out face could make Jongseong cum right there, without even having penetrated you yet. Your legs gripped tightly to his hips, following along as he moved back and forth, his cock stuck between your wet pussy and your panties that were starting to get stickier and stickier, almost transparent.

You pulled Jongseong by the neck, joining your lips to his as you felt him pick up the pace. The sound of his wet movements turned you on even more. His cock moved up and down your pussy as his pelvis reached its limit, only for you to soak his cock all over before his hips came back and did it all over again.

Your lungs screamed for air, but you didn't want to let his mouth go, so you kept it there just to feel Jongseong sharing the same air as you. Your brow furrowed as his pace became faster, more urgent. The shape of his mouth molding to yours, the side of his nose pressing against yours, and your foreheads still together as the two of you synchronized the movements of your hips.

Even though his cock wasn't inside you, Jongseong knew every sign your body had before he came. Every clench your pussy made around nothing and every slow spasm you indicated when you were close. Along with that, his shallow thrusts became erratic, and his nibbling on your lower lip became frantic.

“Jongie” you moaned, a request you didn’t know what it was. If it was for him to let you cum, if it was for him to not stop. You didn’t know, you could have a little bit of everything.

“Yeah, baby?” Jongseong kept his lips close to yours, his gaze never leaving yours because he wanted to look at you when you came.

“Don’t stop” you begged.

“I wasn’t intending to” he smiled with his mouth anchored to yours, his movements a little faster.

Jongseong’s thumb went to the base of his cock, making the completely wet glans – he couldn’t tell what was his pre-cum or his essence anymore – slide over your clit and down your pussy to your hole. He circled it once before penetrating you without any warning.

“Holy shit” you screamed at the sudden intrusion.

“Cum on my dick, baby” he begged, this time with a single strong thrust so that the head of his cock kissed your cervix, where he could reach.

The way your pussy tightened around his cock after so much stimulation and with just one thrust, you came like you had never done before. The trembling of your pussy walls was enough for Jongseong to cum in thick, strong jets inside you. The amount surprised him because he still came as he continued thrusting into you, hearing your whimpers knowing he was already overstimulating you.

Slowly he stopped moving his hips, the last drop of his cum inside you was released, and only then was Jongseong able to rest his body on yours, hugging you without pulling out of you yet.

“That was…”

“Intense” you finished his sentence, running your hands up your boyfriend’s strong arms until you held his face between your hands. The tender and calm look you gave him was nothing compared to what the two of you had shared seconds before.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked you, still panting as he struggled to pull out of your pussy. It was so warm and sheltering him so well, he didn’t want to leave anytime soon.

“Sure, whatever you want” you said.

He seemed to think about it for a moment, smiling slowly as he pulled out of you, careful not to overstimulate you. You both moaned together at the abandonment of your hips, but as soon as Jongseong’s body fell beside you, exhausted, you snuggled up to him and buried your face in the crook of his neck. His scent calmed you down a little more as your breathing became normal.

“Don’t ever call me Jongseong again” he said in a whisper, running the tip of his nose through your hair as his hands rested on your back.

You laughed softly but stopped when he slapped your ass and pulled you closer to him.

“I’m serious, it’s not nice and—”

“I know” your lips kissed him as you lifted your face, looking at him properly. “I won’t do it again. Only if you deserve it.”

“I promise, I won’t do anything to deserve it, love” Jongseong pouted, and you swore it was the most adorable thing in the world.

Because everyone knew Park Jongseong, and here, he was just your Jongie. Your boyfriend, and the man of your life.

© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 24 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley intended to take care of a few important things while he had the week off from work, but a quick visit to base brought with it a change of plans.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, adult language, smut, very hands-on Bradley, spanking, 18+

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

The following day, instead of dressing in a uniform or flight suit, Bradley pulled on jeans and a tropical print shirt while he watched you get yourself ready for work.

"You look cute," he murmured as you wiggled into a dress and some simple flats. "And I like it that you're officially living here now instead of just staying for a few days."

"The commute is not ideal," you told him immediately. "But this is." You placed your hand on his abs before giving him the sweetest kiss that left him soft inside. "This is ideal."

Fuck. He was so in love it was insane. As soon as he was back in your presence for a few hours, having sex and eating pasta, he could barely remember how miserable he'd been on that deployment. It was like nothing else mattered as long as he kept coming back to you.

"Let me pack your lunch," he whispered, tilting your chin up for another one of those kisses. Then he was on his way to the kitchen before he could make you late for school. Before he got home, you filled the refrigerator with everything he liked to eat, and he inhaled two yogurts and some peanut butter toast while he made your sandwich. 

The notes you opened from the box he sent were on the kitchen counter, and he smiled. Nat covered for him big time on Christmas Eve so he could make that happen. He was excited to get to see her when he stopped by North Island, but he had to get you to work first.

"You don't need to drop me off. It's so far out of the way," you told him as you appeared with your tote bag. "I'll drive myself."

When he pouted, you laughed. "Come on, Gorgeous. I want to. I need to stop on base anyway."

"Oh, can you remind Marty and Nat about Career Day?" you asked, holding your bag open for your lunch.

"Nat's coming, too? You'll have the whole of the Navy there, Baby."

"The kids would love that."

Bradley narrowed his eyes. "As long as I'm still the favorite."

"You're irreplaceable," you promised.

You weren't exaggerating one bit when you said the commute was a killer. Bradley hummed along to the radio and held your hand, barely making it through the Starbucks drive-thru line and up to your school before the last minute that you needed to be there.

"I love you. Bye," you told him, kissing him quickly before jumping out the passenger door and running up the sidewalk with your enormous drink in one hand. He was absolutely addicted to the coffee now as well, and after he was sure you made it inside, he sipped his own cup as he drove back down the highway.

It was strange to be going through the guard gates this late in the morning, and when he approached the hangar in his street clothes, he heard Nat's voice and sassy whistle immediately. 

"Looking good, Rooster. Did you forget to do your laundry? Did you forget what time work started while you were deployed?" she called, and he made a point to mess up her hair when she gave him a tight hug. "You're the worst."

"I missed you too, Nat," he told her with a laugh. "Thanks for looking after my girl."

She shrugged and said, "I'm always in the market for drinking wine and talking about you behind your back. Plus, she's actually great. Hanging out with her is the best."

"Yeah," he replied, laughing harder. "That's why I want to do it all the time. I intend to do it forever."

One of her dark eyebrows shot up, and she smirked as she said, "Like forever, forever?"

He ducked his head and cleared his throat. "Yeah, but engagement rings are expensive." Natasha screeched and punched him in the shoulder. "Why are you like this?" he asked as she smacked him several times and jumped around excitedly.

Bradley was saved from being attacked when Maverick walked in with his familiar clipboard in hand and a frown on his face. "Phoenix, you're supposed to be in the tower. Rooster, welcome back. Why aren't you dressed?"

"My vacation days got approved," Bradley replied as Natasha quietly crept away. "I'm off the rest of the week. Didn't anyone tell you?"

"It's probably in my emails." Maverick's frown faded away as he pulled Bradley in for a hug. "I was a little worried for a minute there that you'd end up back in Norfolk." He slapped him on the back. "If you're off all week, why are you here?"

Bradley chuckled. "I just wanted to see everyone. Like you said, I was a little worried about Norfolk, too."

Maverick eyed him closely. "And did I hear you say something about an engagement ring?"

It wasn't like there was anything to hide. Bradley figured it was pretty obvious to everyone by now that his relationship with you was the real deal. Hell, Maverick even compared it to his own parents. "Yeah, I'm going to buy one this month. I just need to juggle some finances around to make sure I can get her something really pretty. But I'm going to start looking today."

A slow nod turned into a beaming smile, and then Maverick said, "Before you do anything, I have something you might want to know about."

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

You were dead on your feet at work. Staying up half the night making love and snuggling left you with a smile on your face, but you couldn't stop yawning. Your students noticed right away as you drained your coffee and groaned when the bell rang signaling the start of class.

"Did you have a hard time sleeping?" Jayden asked.

"A little bit," you replied, remembering the way you had to keep pinching yourself to make sure Bradley's strong arm wrapped around you all night was real.

"Was there a loud noise that kept you up?" Nia asked.

You tried not to snort as you thought about Bradley's moans and grunts in your ear as he fucked you from behind. "Something like that. It's time to review our spelling words."

Even though you insisted that Bradley didn't need to drive you to work, he did, and he promised he'd be back right on time to pick you up at the end of the day. But he was such a liar. He arrived at your classroom fifteen minutes before dismissal time with rosy cheeks and eighteen envelopes.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw's here!" Nia called out when your boyfriend knocked on the door before slipping inside. 

He made a beeline right to you, placing a rather innocent kiss on your cheek. "I hope you don't mind, but I wanted to drop these off," he said, holding up the envelopes. The top one had Jackie's name on it, and your heart soared. Butterflies took off. You had to work really hard not to kiss him again.

"We don't mind," you told him, and you watched him pass out the individual notes he must have written for your students while he was deployed. All eyes were on him as he walked around your classroom, delivering envelopes and answering questions.

"When did you get home from the Atlantic Ocean?"

"Was the food good on the aircraft carrier?"

"Are you coming back for Career Day on Friday?"

Bradley took everything in stride like he always did, but his eyes returned to yours frequently, and his flushed cheeks left you feeling dizzy.

"I got home yesterday," he said, voice deep and commanding as he set the last of his envelopes down on Violet's desk. "The food was terrible. So bad. Nothing like the Pacific Fleet. Nowhere near as good as what you ate on your field trip to North Island. I'm thinking about writing a letter to complain."

"You should," Violet told him seriously. "Yummy, balanced meals are so important."

"You're so right," he replied with a nod. "And yes, I'll be back on Friday for Career Day. Your teacher worked so hard on it, I wouldn't miss it for anything." You were gripping the edge of your desk now as he smiled at you.

"I didn't know you were allowed to wear anything except your uniforms," marveled Oliver.

Bradley looked down at his patterned shirt and laughed. "Should I stick with the flight suit for Friday?"

Then the dismissal bell rang, and your kids started to scramble. You usually had them packed up and ready to go a few minutes early, but Bradley was clearly more exciting than the end of the school day. 

"Don't forget about the spelling test tomorrow!" you called out as they all exited the room in a mass of chaos after high fiving your boyfriend. "Thanks for surprising us," you said as you spun to face him.

"Thanks for being so perfect that I can't stay away from you."

Your cheeks blazed with warmth as you ducked against his chest. Muscular arms wrapped you up in a hug as you muttered, "Did you remind Natasha and Marty about Friday?"

"Mmhmm."

"And did you get to see Maverick?"

He paused before squeezing you a little tighter and kissing the top of your head. "Uh, yes. I did. Now will you let me take you home so I can get back to my busy schedule of eating delicious food, napping and fucking you senseless?"

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

Bradley spent the following day unpacking more of your stuff while you were at work. You had all these fancy things he needed to make room for. Like an air fryer. And a rice cooker. Things he would have never used otherwise, but he didn't mind having them here now. 

He took breaks to read from the journal you kept while he was away, often smiling and laughing at what you'd written in your daily log. It was no wonder he fell in love with you through your writing; you were just the same as you were in person and so authentic this way. Then he read about the day you helped Edith with some chores, and he sprawled out on the couch with a groan.

You were the sweetest thing in his life. One time, Vanessa told him that Edith was annoying and only wanted attention. He rolled his eyes then, and he rolled them again now. She was elderly. Of course she wanted attention. But Bradley knew she also had arthritis, and helping her with yard work was fast and painless for him. He couldn't imagine you saying anything like that.

Bradley slipped into a hazy daydream, thinking about how he wanted to propose to you as his feet hung over the end of the couch. He wasn't going to last long now, and he knew it. Not with that ring tucked away in a Zip-lock bag which was duct taped underneath the bathroom sink vanity behind the pipes. If nothing else, he knew it was there, and he could rip it down any time he felt like asking you to marry him, but he wanted it to be special. Really special.

Maybe he could write something for you. Maybe he should take you out to dinner again. There had to be a way to make it just right so you couldn't say no.

After a few more minutes of indulging in the fantasy of having you as his wife, he stood up and attempted to use the air fryer to make lunch. Pretty soon he gave up and made a sandwich instead before walking next door to knock on Edith's door.

"Bradley!" she said, pulling the door open for him. "You're home. Your girlfriend told me you were deployed earlier this month."

"I just got back on Monday. A little bruised, but no worse for the wear," he told her with a smile. "I wanted to see if you needed help with anything."

"Oh, your sweet girlfriend already changed my light bulbs for me," she told him. Then she lowered her voice and smirked. "She's a looker."

"Yeah," he confirmed with a nod. "She's Gorgeous. She also moved in with me, so if I'm not home and you need something, you can always ask her, okay?" 

Edith fretted her hands, and Bradley leaned back out the open front door, knowing she wouldn't agree to his help unless she paid him in some way. Truthfully, he really did feel like playing the piano anyway. "It looks like you've got some weeds that need to be pulled, and your downspout is loose again. How about you think of a cool song to teach me, and I'll be back in like fifteen minutes?"

He ducked outside before she could answer, but he could hear her tapping away at the piano keys as he yanked some dried up weeds out of the soft soil. While he worked, he pictured the sheet music that Edith kept stacked up inside the piano bench, and he started to come up with an idea. The more he thought about the pages stacked up in his own house, the more he liked his plan. 

He was all smiles when he sat down for her to teach him how to play a Bob Dylan classic, and he was still whistling the tune when he went to pick you up from work.

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

On Thursday night, Bradley had you snuggling on top of him on the couch when you should have really been going over your final plans for Career Day. "You are such a distraction," you whispered, arms and legs wrapped up with his to keep warm since you were wearing nothing but his old sweatshirt.

His fingers flexed on the back of your thigh as he smirked and turned his head to face you instead of the TV. "And you're the best for helping me relax all week." His breath was warm on your cheek, and he kissed you there, saying, "Don't stress about tomorrow. It'll be perfect."

You nuzzled your cheek against his shoulder. "I still have to put all of my guests in order. I need to schedule the most impressive presentation last, for the grand finale."

"Okay, so put me last then, Gorgeous."

You grinned and tried not to giggle. "I was actually thinking Marty."

Bradley's hand slid up from your thigh, smoothing over your butt, and you knew what was coming even before you clenched with need. Bradley smacked you one time, and you moaned as he soothed away the sting with his palm. You were instantly aroused, fingers tingling and ears burning. Bradley's dark eyes were wide, searching your face, questioning what he should do next. When you nodded once, he grunted, and that big hand landed on you again, breaking the silence.

"Fuck," you gasped, rear end stinging as Bradley cupped and squeezed you, pulling you a few inches up his body so he could kiss you. His cock was getting hard in his gym shorts, pressing against your belly, driving you wild.

"You like that?" he whispered between heated kisses, but you barely wanted to take the time to breathe.

"Yes," you replied, mouth mashing against his. Both of his hands came up to your waist, yanking the sweatshirt over your head and dropping it on the floor. Then your lips were back on his as you moaned into his mouth.

The sex had been so sweet since he got home, and neither of you could be blamed for wanting so much of it after going so long without. But this was something else. Bradley's fingers dug into your flesh, and his kisses were rough. Demanding. You spread your legs a little wider, arching your back, silently begging for him to spank you again.

He did not disappoint.

You were aching, whining his name, enthralled by the cocky smirk on his face and the possessiveness in his eyes. "You want more, Gorgeous?" he asked, voice dark as his smirk grew. When you nodded vigorously, he kissed your lips so softly before he said, "You'll schedule me last for Career Day? I think it's where I belong, since I'm the most impressive."

Oh my god. He was playing with you now. You knew he wasn't actually jealous of Marty or Nat or any of the classroom parents, but he knew that you knew that your students would always think he was the most impressive. You would, too.

When you tried to kiss him, he pulled his face away from yours as he stroked your tender rear end with his fingertips. "Yes," you promised, "I'll put you last. You're the most impressive."

"Good girl." 

You gasped as he spanked you one more time, then he kissed you before pushing you up so you were straddling his thighs. When he yanked down his gym shorts, you were treated to the sight of his cock, thick and hard, smacking against his abs.

"Clearly I think you're impressive," he grunted, licking his thumb before running it along your swollen clit. It took no more coaxing before you had your hand wrapped around his cock, guiding him right where you wanted. You sank down on him, already a mess as he thrust up into you, hard.

"Bradley!" His hands were on your breasts, cupping you as he bucked his hips up again.

"Look at you," he rasped, fucking you rough while his hands were gentle. You bounced up and down, bracing yourself awkwardly on the too small couch. "Where do you want me to touch you?" he asked, eyes glued on your face and body. "Show me."

Without hesitation, you wrapped your fingers around his right wrist and moved his hand back to your butt. "A little more," you told him, voice shaking as he fucked you so good. Then he spanked you again and again, and you could feel it everywhere as you cried out. 

It was too much and not enough, and you bit your lip as he alternated between soothing you and spanking you until you were shaking, orgasm building. "Baby, you look and feel too good like this," he whined, wrapping his hands around your hips. "I'm so close."

But you were already there. You came as you leaned down and kissed him, those big hands sliding up, stroking your shoulders and neck as gently as you were used to while your ass tingled. You were making some wild sounds as you rode him until he filled you with his cum, then the two of you were panting in unison as your forehead came to rest against his.

You could feel him smiling, mustache brushing your lips as he said, "That was fun. Didn't know you would like it so much."

You moaned and said, "I'm as surprised as you are. And I'll put you last tomorrow. You're the grand finale. Obviously."

"Obviously," he agreed. "Just keep in mind, I'll be more than happy to spank you when you give me a hard time like that again." His lips found the side of your neck, his cock was still inside you as he murmured, "Got it?"

"Oh, loud and clear."

He chuckled, nipping along your skin as your butt throbbed a bit. You didn't want to move, but his stomach started loudly growling. Carefully, you started to sit up, brushing your fingers through his hair as you said, "It's been hours since you ate. Let's find something in the kitchen."

When you stood on wobbly legs, Bradley stayed lounging on the couch, guiding you and turning you so he could place one soft kiss on the spot on your butt where he had spanked you. Then he got to his feet as well, picked up the sweatshirt, and put it back on you.

He kissed the back of your neck and told you he never wanted to leave you again while you made him a grilled cheese sandwich. "Love you too much," he muttered, hand on your thigh as his leg brushed your tender rear end.

You thought about the weeks he was deployed without communication and how awful it was, but this right here was worth it. Making love in bed and rough sex on the couch. Learning what makes each other tick and sharing meals and enjoying how good it feels to have him hold you. All worth it.

When the sandwich was ready, you cut it into four triangles and took a small bite out of one before holding it up for him to eat it. "Thanks, Baby," he whispered, finishing it in one bite before you fed him the second one and then the third in similar fashion. He was finishing the last piece when he wrapped his arms around you and said, "Okay, Gorgeous, now I'm ready to help you get organized for Career Day before bed."

You laughed. "I just need to write a few things down and pick out an outfit."

"Oh. I wouldn't wear anything too tight," he suggested, smirking once more. "You're about to be sore tomorrow."

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

Okay, Maverick. Okay. Career Day is up next, and I need something nice to be there for Marty. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[chuulyssa]

── ★ 𝐈 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐘 !

𝙨𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 — bsd men and public sex scenarios

𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚 — smut

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎──‎‎‎‎─ tw intended lowercase, public sex, exhibitionism, edging, begging, use of pet names (doll, love, angel etc), praise kink, cockwarming + fingering in fyodor's part, voyeurism + choking + nipple play in nikolai's part

𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 — dazai, chuuya, fyodor, nikolai x reader

𝗗𝗔𝗭𝗔𝗜 is always ready for sex, whether it be in the comfort of your bedroom or the last seat of a movie theater. you cannot physically count the number of times you've asked him to dick you down and he has cooed in reply, pulled you into a random corner, ridden your panties to the side and pried your legs apart with a smile. that, however, doesn't mean there aren't times when you have to beg for his fat cock. he is quite a nuisance, even when the two of you have to make it quick, locked up in a public room. he enjoys watching you flailing your arms around in a silent tantrum, unable to moan or groan or whine, afraid of being heard by others.

“now now bella,” he says in a sing-song voice. “if i give it to you now, and you end up being so loud that the others hear, it will be bad, won’t it?”

he watches you rub your cheek against his bare cock, throat dry from the hardness which he refused to let you suck.

“i’ll be quiet, i promise,” you say. “please please, can i have it?”

“you always say that, dolly,” he strokes your hair lovingly and you lean into his touch. “but we both know you never keep your promise. i would like you to hush for me, alright? we can be as loud as we want at home, but not here, hm? the president is in the next room; it’s a very important meeting, okay?”

you nod vigorously, and he chuckles.

“ah now you know i’m weak for those eyes,” he pulls you up and sits you nicely on his cock all in one go, clamping a hand over your mouth as your eyes widen at the forced penetration. “we’ve got an hour, baby. let’s make it nice and slow, yea? don’t want anything to spill or make a mess, hm? easy now, doll. ride me like a good girl, but quietly.”

𝗖𝗛𝗨𝗨𝗬𝗔 doesn't mind pissing off mori in ways more than one. he cannot recall how many times he's fucked you in his own office in various positions, and so messily too, just to see his boss's reaction. he, unlike dazai, doesn't have to be quiet though. it's his building, he can do whatever the fuck he wants, shove his cock down your throat wherever he wants. but he likes to go at a tantalizingly slow pace. he knows he can take his time. he's not gonna get 'caught'. his subordinates know better than to intrude on his business. it's just you, spread-eagled on the table, and him, rutting his hard cock inside you.

“you like it, yea? then why don’t you say it?” he groans in your ear. “you can tell me whose pussy this is, can’t you? why don’t you say my name, doll? whose girl are you?”

“y-yours, all yours,” you hiss and he gently pushes your face back into the mahogany table, the smell of fresh wood and sex clouding your senses.

“what’s my name?”

“chuuya–”

“chuuya what?”

“port mafia executive chuuya nakahara and the owner of my body,” you breathe. he's taught you to say that whenever he asks you that.

“good girl,” he says proudly, smile faltering for a second as he adjusts his pace. “you gonna come, baby? i can feel you. come, come on this cock, we’ll let it get on the floor and table, just to have some fun, yea?”

you widen your eyes, and he chuckles, gloved hand coming to pinch a nipple.

“no objections. mori's office or not, i decide what i do with my pussy.”

you shuddered. he's not afraid and it's seen. because after all, who's gonna fire him?

𝗙𝗬𝗢𝗗𝗢𝗥 isn't always the one to initiate sex, much less one in public. then again, your numb cunt and shaking legs are testimony of how well he does when he decides to. public sex for fyodor meant shoving you by your hair down on his cock, pretending to be interested in the ramblings of fukichi while you were sucking him off under the table. when he feels he has to reward you for good behaviour though, he allows you to perch on his lap, your panties shifted to the side as he nests his cock deep inside your warm pussy, offering his ideas while the others don't bat an eye at the unusual approach of the mastermind.

he drums his fingers on the table, sliding them down to pinch your clit. your eyes widen, neck snapping around to look at him as he continues to look ahead. from the corner of his sly smile, he mutters, “i’ve told you to stop moving so much, havent i, angel? or would you like to leave the meeting? i wouldn’t mind either way. you’re distracting a hard-working man.”

you frown at him. “i’m not moving around–” your angry whisper is cut off by a finger slipping inside your already filled cunt, stretching it out even more. you hiss loudly, fist clenching around his cape.

“quieten, printsessa, or i might have to send you away. you’re not being very good now. i’d like to have a word with you after the gathering departs. in private.”

you scowl and turn back to staring at a wall in front of you, when you feel his finger escaping your soaking cunt. sighing in relief, you barely anticipate the slight jolt of his hips as he forced his cock deeper inside you for the fraction of a second before bringing it back in place.

your eyes wander frantically to see if anyone noticed the act. nobody did, thankfully, or maybe they had learned not to intrude on his business. either way, you will pay the price for boredom in the next thirty minutes.

𝗡𝗜𝗞𝗢𝗟𝗔𝗜 is similar to dazai when it comes to enthusiasm related to public sex. he's into voyeurism, a bit much for your liking, but he swears by your name he won't do it if you don't like it. but you don't miss the way he casually lifts your skirt up to check your ass out, or how he sticks a finger inside your cleavage line to harden your nipples. he has always wanted to be free, and what defines freedom more than sex in the back of his car, where the windows are open and any passerby can hear the commotion, wild and alive like never before?

“but kolya, we have to be quiet, we can’t just–”

“hush, my little birdie. do as i say and you won’t be in trouble,” he lays you down comfortably on the seat before proceeding to bang the shit out of you. your meek attempt at stifling your moans by covering your mouth is unsuccessful, and highly futile, he thinks. “now why would you do that, my dove? why would you not bless my ears with your heavenly sounds? let me hear them, dove, please.”

“kolya–”

“yes yes yes love, just like that,” he coos praises into your ear. “but you can go louder, can’t you?”

his mouth sucks on one of your nipples, begging you silently to give him more, to say more.

“please tell me how i make you feel, dove. i might die.”

“so good, kolya, so good.”“yes dove, now can you tell the whole word how i make you feel? please? for me?” he fastens his pace to force moans out of you, hand reaching to your throat to make you say his name. “want the whole word to know you love me, dove. that you’re mine. all mine.”

and his demands grow sinister by the moment with threatening consequences.

“whoopsie, no dove you’re gonna have to keep it in for now. can’t let you come unless i see you beg for it, now can i?”

it was always a long night of satisfying sex with him.

[wosoluver]

Oh, baby

Georgia Stanway x reader.

I know nothing about giving birth so bare with me. Also please don't kill me for the plot changes, Hope you like it!

Other players masterlist

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"Fuck!" you said feeling the warm liquid run down your legs. "No, no, no." You were staying over at her parents' house. Tomorrow would be the final match at the 2023 world cup and you would be gathered to watch the game there.

"Jo! We need to go, my water just broke!" you said grabbing her mother's attention. Her dad had gone to Australia to support her, but her mom refused leaving you, pregnant and alone. And you thanked the universe. You were 36 weeks, you were to give birth only next month. You had been feeling small contractions, that were apparently normal in the third trimester.

That was the only reason Georgia agreed to go.

A million thoughts went through your mind. Would the baby be okay? Would they have to do a C-section?

Would your fiancé be okay, knowing she missed the moment se was waiting so excited for? Were you even ready for this?

You started to cry immediately.

"Don't worry love, I'm calling her as soon as you're in the hospital."

"No please! You can't! You know her!" you said followed by a scream when you felt the sharp pain of a contraction hit you. "Please, please wait as much as we can. This is important for her, she needs to be a hundred percent focused."

"But seeing her daughter's birth is too..."

"I know but even if she knows, she'll won't get here in time. Please."

She only nodded agreeing with you. And you asked her to call your parents instead.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

While you walked around the room, preparing yourself for the ride ahead, in attempt to stay sound, you thought about what had led you here.

You and Georgia had been together for almost six years.

You had met at Man City, both came from a small town and were around the same age, sharing the dream to become big players.

You started dating, and your relationship went through a lot.

You endured for years a long distance relationship, when you moved away to play in Spain and she stayed back in Manchester.

A couple of seasons later you transferred to Bayern, where your girlfriend soon followed suit.

And you both finally managed to start your life together.

She didn't want to wait any longer, all that time had been enough.

From living together to her proposing, life felt like pure bliss.

And after the 2022 euro's title, you felt like it was the right time to have a pause on your career.

It wasn't an easy decision, since the World Cup was around the corner.

But differently from your teammates, you now had a bigger dream, Georgia fully supported you, she herself had always wanted to be a mother.

You didn't expect for it to work so soon.

Along with the risks the doctors had told you, it could take more than one try.

Fortunately the whole pregnancy had been very healthy, and nothing gave you any reason to think something like this could happen.

You questioned yourself if you were doing the right thing, by not updating her on the matter.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Georgia's head was buzzing, Spain was winning by a goal. England had slightly recovered at the end of first half, but it wasn't enough.

She sat on the locker room, trying to cool down, zoning out a bit. All she could think of was winning this, to come home as a champion. For her girls.

She could have never imagined you had been in the hospital for the last couple of hours, let alone giving birth. So she didn't bother to look for her phone.

And before she knew, she was walking back to the field for the second half.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"Just one more push, yeah?"

And you did as a loud cry filled the room. And they placed her right on your chest.

You felt like you could pass out from how tired you were.

But you couldn't, yet.

"You did great darling." her mom cooed you in between tears.

"Is the game over yet?"

"Yes, they won second place." she handed your phone over.

You cried hard a the sound of that. She had been deprived of being champion and seeing her daughter's first moments in the same day, at the same time. You tried to recompose yourself while you pressed to facetime her.

ongoing call...

"Hey love, what took you so lon-" she managed to get out before shutting up at the realization. A big smile appearing in her tear stained face. "She's beautiful."

before she could say anything else, Lucy, who was prying at the video call, loudly announced to everyone.

"The baby is here!" and you could hear the girls cheering loudly. Running to try and congratulate you.

"You guys are so loud, geez." your soon to be wife said after a few moments, walking to a more private place, so you both could talk.

"I am so sorry." you said eyes filled with tears.

"We couldn't have known." she said giving you a reassuring smile. "I was going to show you this baby here," showing her silver medal at the camera. "But it seems like you're already holding our baby right there."

And for over ten minutes you two sat quietly, just admiring the angel you had brought into the world.

"Is she okay? I mean she clearly looks like it, but since she's early..."

"Better than expected actually. They said she's around 6.30 lbs and over 19 inches. Pretty big for a preterm. They'll run some tests in the morning, just to be sure." you said letting out a yawn.

"You need to get some sleep. And I'm getting on the first plane home."

"I love you, and I'm so proud of you."

"Oh baby, I'm the one who's proud. I love you. Both of you."

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Maybe another part with G meeting baby Talia?

like & share pls!

[widow-tarot]

MINI PAC READING: What Would They Tell You If They Could? (Romance)

GROUPS: 1 - 2 - 3 4 - 5 - 6

You can always tip me! - paypal.me/sadwidow

If you want to support me, please reblog!

Instruction: Think about your person while choosing a group. Do not use more than 1 group for one person. Just to remind you, this is only for entertainment purposes.

If you don't feel drawn to any group, then this reading is not for you.

GROUP 1

Cards: Ace of Wands, Knight of Wands rx, Wheel of Fortune rx, I Like You, Girl Talk rx, Pond, Archangel Metatron.

I like you. I know it's straightforward, but I cannot say it in any other way that's more meaningful or more direct. It might not sound meaningful but it is to me (I hope it is to you too). I feel there is a spiritual connection between us and it seems no matter what, we keep coming back to each other. Our connection is like a pond; can be insignificant to others but to us, it holds so much life and secrets but it can easily be destroyed if not cultivated. We are so hot and cold; we like each other, then we hate each other over something trivial (we both don't know what exactly annoyed us). I want to move towards you but things are holding me back. There's so much I want to do and say but I'm standing still. I know we will truly come together someday. No one knows about it because I don't share those feelings with friends. It seems too private and sacred.

SONGS:

Eric by Mitski ("Take off my clothes and watch me move; You can come closer, I'll let you hurt me; But how long, how long can we play this way?; I'm tired, I'm tired of not loving you"

Blue Velvet by Lana Del Rey ("Ours a love I held tightly; Feeling the rapture grow; Like a flame burning brightly; But when she left; Gone was the glow")

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You, Baby by Cigarettes After Sex ("Whispered something in your ear; It was a perverted thing to say; But I said it anyway; Made you smile and look away; Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby; As long as you're with me, you'll be just fine")

GROUP 2

Cards: 9 of Pentacles, 2 of Pentacles, 7 of Cups, Noose rx, Mushrooms, The Snake, Hammer rx, Seraphim Seraphisa rx.

You will forever be in my heart and mind, but we can never be together in the way we want. There are way too many blockages and I do think we are not fit to be in a relationship. I am in a committed relationship (or you are) and I do not wish to leave her for I love her. Maybe I am a coward, but I am a practical and cautious one. I will not take reckless actions just to wake up one day and regret it. I think what we have is a fantasy, pleasant make-believe, daydreaming. However, I don't want you gone because you're an important person to me. I wish you happiness but I can't follow you.

SONGS:

Lonesome Love by Mitski ("I call you, to see you again; So I can win, and this can finally end")

Blue Banisters by Lana Del Rey ("She said, "You can't be a muse and be happy, too; You can't blacken the pages with Russian poetry and be happy"; And that scared me; 'Cause I met a man who said he'd come back every May;Just to help me if I'd paint; Now when weather turns to May; All my sisters come to paint")

Flash by Cigarettes After Sex ("I'm a flash; You were blinded by the love I had; I'm a flash; The light could only get in through the cracks")

GROUP 3

Cards: The Hierophant rx, 8 of Wands, The Devil, 10 of Swords rx, Wildflowers, Mirror, Keys on a Ring, Archangel Raphael.

You are the temptation, the chaos in my life, the wildflowers that can still be growing but can also be already taken by someone else while I wasn't looking. You're untouchable, unable to be caught, translucent. One minute you're here only to leave seconds later just to come back and stay for a long time. You're unpredictable, a sin worth sinning for. But I hate to be alone and you make me sad. I love to see you but I hate myself when you leave. I don't know if you have any feelings for me; is it something serious or is it just casual and convenient? I can't do this anymore, I'm trapped and I feel miserable. I wish I could tell you to stay away, to abandon me, to never come back. It would be easier for me to move on then but I am a fool for you. I wish I was strong enough to talk things through but I'd rather have some of you than none of you. Then again, being with you hurts me so what should I do?

SONGS:

Should've Been Me by Mitski ("Relive all the ways you still want me; I haven't given you what you need; You wanted me but couldn't reach me; I'm sorry it should've been me"

Blue Jeans by Lana Del Rey ("I will love you till the end of time; I would wait a million years; Promise you'll remember that you're mine; Baby, can you see through the tears?; You went out every night; And, baby, that's alright; But when you walked out that door; A piece of me died")

Ambien Slide by Cigarettes After Sex ("Take my love with some pretend; You said you couldn't help it; Had everything that you wanted; When my love was something yours; But now you're feeling helpless")

GROUP 4

Cards: Death, Page of Pentacles rx, The Chariot rx, Archangel Sammael, Eileen Chang rx, Boat rx, Engagement Ring rx.

I don't want to try to fix this thing between us anymore, it's a fool's errand. We tried and it didn't work, it's time to move on to something else because we are just wasting our time and I'm exhausted. Let me go. Let me leave, peacefully. I don't want to fight but I'm frustrated. I think we tried to escape the inevitable but at the end of the road, we cannot pretend any longer. Relieve me of this burden and don't resent me.

SONGS:

Working For The Knife by Mitski ("I always thought the choice was mine; And I was right, but I just chose wrong")

Bel Air by Lana Del Rey ("Gargoyles standing at the front of your gate; Trying to tell me to wait; But I can't wait to see you; So I run, like I'm mad, to heaven's door; I don't wanna be bad; I won't cheat you no more")

Tejano Blue by Cigarettes After Sex ("We wanted to fuck with real love; Wanted it sweet, so pure and warm; And when you say you want it all, I know you want it all; Baby, take it all from me; I always will make it feel like you were the last one; So get in the waves like it was the first time")

GROUP 5

Cards: The Star rx, 7 of Pentacles, 10 of Swords rx, Glove rx, The Phoenix, Paradise rx, Archangel Haniel.

I wish we could start anew, without any bitter history between us that holds us back and clouds our judgment. We cannot fully be together while all these thoughts are troubling us, making us suspicious of each other and insecure. I know we both lost hope for this connection, yet we are still going and proceeding with it in any way we can. We don't want this to be over but we need to find a solution. I want you in my life and I'm willing to put work into it. Are you? Someone needs to make the first step though and it's the most difficult thing to do. We cannot stay still for much longer though. We communicate telepathically but we also have to communicate in real life.

SONGS:

First Love/Late Spring by Mitski ("Please hurry leave me; I can't breathe; Please don't say you love me; One word from you and I would; Jump off of this ledge I'm on; Tell me "don't" so I can crawl back in")

Video Games by Lana Del Rey ("It's you, it's you, it's all for you; Everything I do; I tell you all the time; Heaven is a place on earth with you; Tell me all the things you wanna do; It's better than I ever even knew; They say that the world was built for two; Only worth living if somebody is loving you")

Goodbye Mr Blue by Father John Misty (" But maybe if he'd gone sooner; Could've brought us back together last June; When the last time was our last time; If only then I knew; The last time was our last time; Would've told you that the last time comes too soon")

GROUP 6

Cards: Page of Swords rx, 9 of Cups rx, 4 of Swords, Sappho, Archangel Chamuel, Cupid's Arrow rx, Separation rx.

Do you love me? You say you do why does your love cause so much pain? Why am I in agony instead of being elated and happy? Is this how you show your love? I feel neglected and manipulated. I feel ignored and mocked. Am I your partner or your pet? Do you even care what I want? Do you care what I have to say? You treat me as a child as if I cannot think or decide for myself. Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think so lowly of me? When you're not here, I don't miss you and my mind is at ease. I lost all hope for anything to change. It hurts even more because I love you, but your love is weird and dysfunctional. I feel trapped. I even stopped speaking my mind because it was met with ridicule and anger.

SONGS:

Wife by Mitski ("For if I am not yours, what am I?; I daydream I'd give one a name of my own; For even I am on loan; For even mine is unknown; So let me go towards the morning star; With hope it won't disappear;)

Carmen by Lana Del Rey ("Baby's all dressed up, with nowhere to go; That's the little story of the girl you know; Relyin' on the kindness of strangers; Darlin', darlin', doesn't have a problem; Lyin' to herself, 'cause her liquor's top shelf; It's alarmin', honestly, how charmin' she can be; Foolin' everyone, tellin' 'em she's havin' fun")

Hot by Cigarettes After Sex ("Is it all in my head? 'Cause I keep getting scared; That I'll always be lost forever; But I don't give a shit if I'm too delicate; When you hold me, it's always better")

[hwaslayer]

vivrant thing (jwy) | three.

—SPOTIFY PLAYLIST / SERIES MASTERLIST

—SUMMARY: after getting into a little accident, wooyoung decides to do his sister a favor by pretending to be your date at the company summer party. as soon as the night ends, wooyoung would go back to his usual routine of hanging out with his boys, keeping his distance from committed relationships and being a typical brother to jiwoo. except, the favor comes with more than what wooyoung expects and he finds you occupying his mind more than usual. 

—PAIRING: jung wooyoung x f. reader

—GENRE: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriend’s brother au | fluff, angst, smut

—WORD COUNT: 6.6k

—CHAPTER CONTENT / WARNINGS: cussing, implied sexual content/mature language, dinner w/ yeosang!, feelings are laid out oof, alcohol consumption & slight intoxication, a bit more of jiwoo vs. wooyoung, use of pet names (princess, love, baby girl, baby), lots and lots of kissing, making out, mentions of marking, some dry humping, unprotected sex, slow sweet sex??, wooyoung pulls out 🫢

So, you agree to the dinner with Yeosang but you don't expect how terrible it ends up playing out.

At first, it starts off well.

It felt like dinner wouldn't be so bad, and you enjoyed seeing Yeosang being his usual self from the car ride up to the restaurant. When he pulls into a spot in the parking lot and helps you out of the car, there is a bit of a difference in Yeosang's attitude. He slides his hand into yours as he leads the way into the restaurant and as much as you adore your bestfriend, it feels incredibly unnatural. 

It surely doesn't feel like Wooyoung's, but you shouldn't be thinking about that right now.

He continues to loosely hold your hand until the host brings you to a table near the back end of the restaurant. You didn't think tonight's dinner would be so fancy, but you were in your business casual attire straight out of work; it ended up working out well in the end. You scoot into the booth, with Yeosang on the other side. He immediately orders a bottle of white wine, which isn't really to your liking as you've learned, but you'll make do with what you have— especially to get through this dinner.

You order appetizers along with your main courses, indulging in good conversation with Yeosang as he tells you work updates and how he's being dragged to this really important meeting over the weekend with the board of directors by his team lead. 

It's all good. It's all fun and casual, until it isn't.

Meanwhile, Jiwoo stops by her brother's apartment to drop off some sushi from his favorite Japanese restaurant. It's her way of saying 'thank you' without actually having to say it out loud.

"What now?" Wooyoung swings his door open to see his sister standing there with a bag of food.

"Hi to you, too." She drops it on his kitchen counter. "Bought you food from Sushi Kashiwa." 

"Aw, just say it." He pretends to pout while she gives him a disgusted look and unties the bag.

"No. Besides, I bought myself some food and am gonna enjoy it right here." She lays out the containers and grabs her own. "My friends decided to leave me out of a very important dinner tonight."

"What are you talking about?" He pops open the lid to his sushi container and wastes no time digging in.

"Y/N went to dinner with Yeosang. I guess to talk about stuff going on between them, I don't know." Wooyoung pauses mid-chew, the statement hitting him right in his gut. He's not sure why he's sad— maybe he's right after all. Maybe this just ended up being a temporary one night thing that would eventually wash away.

Sucks it doesn't necessarily feel that way for Wooyoung.

He can't assume, though. Hopefully, you're talking to Yeosang and giving him the honest 'i think we should just stay friends' talk instead of the 'let's just see where this goes' talk. He'd appreciate the universe if it could give him this one thing; he'll stop running his parents' last nerve and will never look at a booty ever again.

Maybe.

"Oh." Is all Wooyoung says before stuffing another piece into his mouth. "Why would you even be there, Jiwoo? That doesn't concern you."

"Anything with my friends concerns me."

"Let them talk it out without your loud, nosey ass interrupting." She rolls her eyes, scrolling through her phone as she also continues to eat.

"I haven't gotten any new texts from her. I wonder if it's going well. Maybe they're gonna explore this after all."

"Who says?" Wooyoung responds a little too quickly, a little too sharply, for his liking. His sister doesn't seem to catch on, though. That's great.

"I dunno, beats me. I'm just taking all angles into consideration."

"Stop projecting. She seemed to be pretty set on her decision at the party."

"You never know." She says in a sing-song tone that irks Wooyoung a little more than usual this evening. "You're right, though. She is set on her decision. I just hope he takes it well." She sets her phone aside. "Anyway. How'd you like the party?"

"Gotta admit, it was fun."

"You really looked like Y/N's date. I had a few people ask me if you two were dating."

"Uh, I mean I was her date? And why would they ask when I already told them yes?" He jokes, just to push his sister's buttons.

"No way." Jiwoo continues to eat away at her food, texting Hongjoong in the midst of it. "Y/N is too good for you."

"No one is too good for anyone. Don't speak on shit you don't know."

"I know her!"

"And I know her, too!"

"I know her the best." Wooyoung rolls his eyes.

"Still doesn't mean you know everything about her."

"Ew, why are you getting so defensive tonight?" He shakes his head, feeling the irritation within him grow the more Jiwoo presses it. He knows he isn't the best man to walk this Earth, but he also knows he'd be good to you. Good for you. He's been thinking about it a lot and he hates that he is— none of this makes sense to him, but he knows he'd be good.

"Don't you have to go see Hongjoong?"

"Once he's off, yeah." Jiwoo sips on her water. "What're you doing tonight? Getting into more shit with Choi San?"

"No, he's actually visiting his parents."

"Hm." She hums. "No booty call coming over?"

"No. Even if there was, you would not be getting that information." She scoffs.

"Grow up, Wooyoung."

"Grow up, Wooyoung." He mocks her. "Says the one who made the wild claim based off of nothing."

"You're so annoying." She tosses her sushi container into his trash before washing her cup of water. Despite their usual bickering, Jiwoo stays for a bit longer until Hongjoong texts her and lets her know he's finally off of work after putting in some overtime. Jiwoo helps tidy up Wooyoung's space before she's waving goodbye [aka flipping him off] and slamming his door shut. Wooyoung plops back onto his couch with the remainder of his food resting on the coffee table, scrolling through his phone. He goes through your texts, wondering if he should say anything or keep silent. He smiles to himself when he sees the pictures you've passed along from the photographer. He sees you've posted the picture with him on your Instagram and it tugs at his heart because not only do you rarely use Instagram, but you took that opportunity to post your pictures from the party— including the one where you've got your hand resting on his chest while he has an arm around you. He was happy to see you happy and comfortable. Having fun. 

You glowed. 

He'll never forget it.

—OLD TEXTS

you: hi! they uploaded the pics from the party!

you: *sends a group of pics at once*

wooyoung: yo goddamn!? we look good!

wooyoung: you look so pretty. 😍

you: 😀 stop !!

wooyoung: i'm so serious, good LORD. 😮‍💨

you: i'm blocking you.....

wooyoung: woah now, hey i'm kiddddding....

wooyoung: not really! but don't block me! i just can't help it!

you: you're too much 😂

wooyoung: can i post these?

you: go for it!

wooyoung: thank you ☺️

He sighs as he reaches the end of the thread.

He won't say anything. He'll let this unfold as it should, but it doesn't mean he can't be sad about it. Cause he sure as hell is and he's a bit anxious. Hopefully, you'll tell Yeosang the truth. Hopefully, you won't force yourself into anything you don't want or feel uncomfortable with.

As for you, the dinner really takes its turn for the worse after you and Yeosang eat away at your main meals, a pregnant silence falling between you two after a good hour of just talking and yapping away about life. You already knew it was coming at this point, you were just hoping you'd buy a little more time [as if you could put it off even more]. 

"So." He says awkwardly to cut the silence.

"Mhm?"

"Did you really enjoy the party?"

"I did. Did you?"

"Yeah. I just—" He looks at you with his head cocked to the side. "I was just surprised seeing you with Wooyoung." You pause before poking at your pasta and taking a small bite. 

"Oh yeah, it was relatively last minute."

"Jiwoo's plan?"

"Why do you say that? Do you genuinely think Wooyoung wouldn't go with me?" You ask, a little offended at the way he sounds cause even though it was clearly planned and arranged, the insinuation from Yeosang doesn't hurt any less. 

"No, not like that— I'm sorry, it came out of nowhere and caught me off guard. That's all." You cock a brow up. 

"It just happened that way. Wooyoung wanted to go and I wanted to go in the end." Is all you respond with, chugging your second glass of wine before pouring yourself more. You really don't like the taste of this white wine either, but you'll take it cause it's better than sitting here without an ounce of alcohol to push you through. Give you more courage to finish the evening on a decent note, to be honest. "I had a really fun time, regardless."

"I saw." He pauses. "I wish you would've at least told me instead of showing up like that." 

"I'm sorry."

"I think it's time for me to be honest and stop watching from the sidelines because I.. really like you, Y/N." His shoulders droop just as he sets his fork and knife down neatly onto the plate. You take the last bite of your meal before sipping on more wine to wash it down.

"I should have told you, but I didn't want to hurt you. Even if I did tell you, it wouldn't have changed anything."

"It wouldn't? Why wouldn't it have changed anything? I thought we might've had a chance." He's confused. He looks like he was expecting a completely different outcome, and that might've been your fault for not telling him right away. But, the moment is here now and you know you can't push it off any longer.

"No. I just.. I just can't, Yeo. I'm sorry." You barely get yourself to respond out of fear. You knew Yeosang wasn't the type to react— if anything, he'd be the most understanding. Though, it doesn't change the fact that you were still scared. You felt bad. You didn't want to hurt him, and you wanted to avoid this confrontation as much as possible even though you knew you needed to face it sooner than later. "I truthfully think we're good with where we're at, and I don't think we should mess that up. I love the way we are as good friends, bestfriends, and that's how I've always seen us." You can see the disappointment growing on his face every second, but he's trying hard to keep it under wraps while he briefly waves the waitress down for the check.

"C-can I ask? You can be honest." You silently nod. "Is it Wooyoung?" You shake your head.

"It was never about Wooyoung. Just us. Well, me. You're amazing, and you deserve the best. You deserve someone who is sure about you and who will reciprocate those feelings to no end. I'm sorry that I can't be that person, but at the same time, I know I can be your friend just like I always have been. That's what I can give you, and I hope you understand." You tell him softly. "I'm sorry." You repeat, feeling the tears brimming your bottom lids. "I should've opened up earlier. I really hope this doesn't change things between us."

"It won't, but I hope you understand it'll take me some time to move past it. I'm sorry for assuming or for— yeah." He shakes his thoughts away.

"Take all the time you need." He gives you a tiny, toothless smile.

"Anyway." Yeosang signs off on the receipt before tucking his card back into his wallet and standing. "Let's get you home."

"Okay." You shimmy out of the booth to head out of the restaurant. This time, Yeosang doesn't hold your hand. In fact, he trails behind you, keeping at a safe distance. You can immediately see the change— how stiff and awkward he's become. You don't blame him for it; he's hurting and you know he needs his space more than anything. 

You can't wait to get home.

The ride is fucking awful. It's the most quiet you've seen Yeosang. The most closed-off and serious he's ever been towards you. His hand is clutching the wheel tightly, but the music is comforting enough to fill the void. You continue to look out of the passenger's window, keeping to yourself until Yeosang asks about your plans for the rest of the weekend. There isn't much going on for you, so that conversation dies quickly. Luckily for you, Yeosang is about to pull up to your street. He stops the car by your building, shifting the gear to park before helping you out of the car. You give him a small, sympathetic smile before pulling him into a hug— giving his back a gentle rub.

"Sleep well, alright? I'll see you next week."

"You too." With that, he walks off, waiting until you at least unlock and crack your door open. When you get a whiff of your candle that you lit up earlier in the morning, you realize you don't really wanna stay home right now; to sulk, to drown in your thoughts alone, to have to listen to the loudness in a quiet space. So, you shut the door again, head back down the steps and walk to the convenience store nearby. You grab a bottle of yogurt soju, along with your favorite chips and strawberry cheesecake ice cream bar— plopping yourself down onto one of the tables right outside the store. You're quick to crack open the bottle and drink away, also eating away at the chips since you didn't feel incredibly satisfied with the dinner earlier. It might've just been all the emotions and tension in the air, but anywho, the chips and the soju taste better than ever. Sooner or later, you find yourself tipsier, cheeks lit on fire, hands clammy; barely hitting the halfway point with the soju bottle. You lazily scroll through your phone as you begin to eat away at the ice cream bar, revisiting those party pictures.

You wonder what Wooyoung is doing, but you shouldn't be thinking about that right now.

"Ugh." You whine and pout to yourself, pulling up your texts to see if Jiwoo can come to your rescue. You opted for listing Jiwoo and Wooyoung as Jung 1 and Jung 2 to keep it easy and simple; except, it obviously doesn't work well in this case when you accidentally pull up the text with Jung 2 instead of Jung 1 while you wipe away at the tears that suddenly begin to stream down your cheeks.

you: oof .... that dinner was kinda awful i feel terrible

you: kinda?! not even kinda it WAS awfullll

you: i'm sitting outside of our fav convenience store by my olace

you: eating strawberry cheesecake ice cfream!!

you: jiwooooooo

you: jung 1!!!!

Wooyoung furrows his brows at the constant dinging of his phone, unsure of who the hell could be blowing up his phone right now. He even sits for a minute, wondering if there's anybody he's pissed off in the last few days [besides his sister].

"Hm." He hums when he comes up with nothing, nobody. He picks up the phone and scrolls through the previews, chuckling to himself when he sees your name pop up on the screen. Clearly by accident.

you: jiwoo jung 1 pls help come to my rescue it was not good! idk if yeo n i will be friens still ☹️☹️☹️

wooyoung: sorry to break it to you sweetheart, but this is jung 2. 😙

wooyoung: also i won't hold it against you that i've been slotted as number 2 when i should be number 1 esp after the party. 🫤 but it's cool or whatever......

You squint at the brightness of your phone, slowly eating away at your strawberry cheesecake ice cream bar. You almost drop the damn thing when you realize you've actually been blowing up the wrong phone, horrified it had to be Wooyoung, too.

He must think you're a gem, truly.

He does, though. In a very good, non-sarcastic way.

you: omggg i'm so sorry wooyoung jung 2 ☹️

you: i mean jung 1 technically

wooyoung: lol no worries, don't be sorry. you okay?

you: yes but no?

wooyoung: stay put.

You cock a brow up in confusion, wondering if Wooyoung was telling you to stay put because he was on his way or because he just needed you to get yourself together. You listen anyway, sitting on the little chair outside of the convenience store, silently eating away at your ice cream with your phone lit on your lap. You completely forget about texting Jiwoo amidst all of this, assuming she's busy anyway. The wind is slowly picking up, cooling the tip of your nose and surface of your cheeks— settling the heat from the soju.  You shiver and run a hand down your arm, hoping the wind slows in between its waves. You continue to mindlessly scroll through your phone, even picking up your game of Wordle for the day. Just as you get lost in thought, a car parks in a spot in between your building and the convenience store. You look up as you bite into the last of your ice cream bar, hearing the muffled bass from the music in the car. Wooyoung steps out in a grey hoodie and matching sweats, a black beanie on his head. He approaches you with a small smile with his hands dug deep into his pockets, crouching to your level as he continues to look at you.

"W-Wooyoung." You hiccup as you sit on the bench, setting your trash down next to you. Wooyoung gives you a small smile, thumb wiping away at your tears.

"Wanna tell me why you've been out here eating ice cream alone?" He eyes your snacks of choice. "And.. a half bottle of soju and chips? I thought you had dinner with Yeosang."

"I did, and it was terrible and sad." You sniff. "Well, not the food. I just couldn't enjoy it as much. I even tried to drink that bitter white wine he ordered just to get me through."

"And you're drinking soju now? Really must have been that bad."

"Bad bad." You pout and he laughs.

"I'm sorry." He gives your thigh a gentle squeeze before patting it. "Come on, let's get you home." He stands, holding out his hand. You gladly take it in yours, his thumb swiping over your knuckles in an attempt to try and warm it up. He grabs the soju and the chips in his other, leading the way to your building. He quietly heads up the steps, stepping aside and letting go of your hand to let you open your door. When you step back into the warmth of your studio, you instantly kick off your shoes and slip into your slippers—lighting up your candle to bring more heat into the room.

"I'm gonna set your chips and soju aside." Wooyoung says, tightly tying your chips close so it doesn't get stale before setting your bottle of soju aside in the fridge.

"Thank you." You set your bag down and let out a sigh.

"Glad I was able to get you home safely." He chuckles a bit, jingling his keys in his hand. You don't want Wooyoung to leave, especially after he made the effort to get dressed and come to your rescue.

"Wooyoung?" He cocks a brow up when you turn to face him. "Can you stay?" He takes a moment before he nods, unsure how he could turn you down with you looking up at him that way. 

So innocently. So delicately. Eyes yearning for company you can be comforted with, need to be comforted with.

"Yeah, of course. As long as you're okay with me poking around and making some food." You giggle and nod.

"Go for it." You grab your pajamas. "I'm gonna take a quick shower. Feel free to get comfortable and flip through the channels." You turn on the TV for him before shutting yourself within the bathroom walls to shower and get comfy for the evening. 

As you shower and get ready for bed that evening, you hear Wooyoung humming and singing a Blackstreet song to himself in your kitchen. After brushing your teeth, you finish up the last of your skincare routine before heading back outside.

"Finally." Wooyoung turns over his shoulder and quickly scans you from head to toe. "I was getting lonely."

"I didn't even take that long."

"It was long. You and Jiwoo take the longest showers known to man." He frowns a bit, making you giggle to yourself. You plop on your couch, now in your oversized crewneck and pajama pants. You're no longer tipsy, probably a little too sober for your liking especially knowing Wooyoung is in your studio. You do find his company comforting, though. You feel bad he had to come and rescue you, but you'd rather be here than anywhere else after that dinner with Yeosang. You tuck your legs to your chest, flipping through the tv channels only to land on Kiki's Delivery Service. It's already 20 minutes in, but it doesn't bother you knowing the movie so well. Wooyoung is still going through your stash of food, pulling out a bowl of jajangmyeon. While he waits for the hot water to properly cook the noodles, he dices up some pickled radish and some cucumbers, and quickly boils two eggs to perfection. When the noodles are done, he sets everything into the bowl neatly before grabbing a cold water bottle and plopping onto the couch next to you.

"What'd you do today?" You look at him just as he starts digging into the bowl.

"Work. Then Jiwoo came earlier in the night with some food from my favorite Japanese spot."

"Sushi Kashiwa?"

"Aw, you know?" Wooyoung smirks.

"Because Jiwoo has mentioned it one too many times." You chuckle. "That's cute, though."

"She only did it cause she was waiting for Hongjoong to get out of work. And to kiss my ass about the party."

"And because she loves you." He fake shivers.

"Ew. Please don't say that again." He looks at you and you snort. "Want a bite? I made it for us to share in case you were still hungry." He edges his chopsticks your way, watching as you shake your head in response.

"I'm good. Thank you though, Woo."

"Suit yourself, princess. I whipped up a good one." You laugh, settling into the couch as you continue to watch the movie. Wooyoung catches you slipping your sleeves over your palms in his peripherals and although he's pretty warm and cozy in your studio, you must still feel cold. He hurriedly slurps up the remaining of the noodles before gulping the entirety of his water bottle down. He lets out a noise that makes you laugh, kicking his head back in satisfaction. "Damn, that was good."

"Glad you enjoyed." You poke his arm and he smiles. "Is this movie okay with you?"

"Yeah, of course. Can never go wrong with Studio Ghibli movies. Unless, you're down to watch something scary?"

"Never." 

"Why not? I'm here."

"But, whatever scary movie we'll watch, it'll live in my head for the next few days and you won't be here."

"I could be, you just have to call me and I'll come. Like tonight."

"Wooyoung." You pout. "Today's was an accident."

"So, you didn't want me to come? That's funny, cause I didn't see another text from you after I told you to stay put, baby girl." He smirks and you shake your head shyly.

"I'm sorry." You continue to fiddle with your sleeves.

"Don't be. I'm just teasing, I wanted to come."

"Thank you. I needed it." You finally manage to let out as you look at him and scooch a little closer. He gives you a tiny smile before shifting his attention back to the TV, the both of you engaging in small talk about the characters here and there.

At some point, Wooyoung subtly inches in and closes off any gaps, quietly slipping his arm behind you. You silently chuckle to yourself when you see him playing it off, acting as if he hadn't done anything to get closer to you. But, the whole thing feels.. nice. It feels safe. It feels warm. Wooyoung really isn't expecting anything out of this— he is testing the waters to see how comfortable you'd be with him, but that's truly it. That's the intention. Just to make you feel comfortable and better after tonight's dinner. He definitely wasn't expecting you to lean your head against him, snuggling up to him as closely as possible. 

"You okay? Comfortable?" He asks softly. You look up at him and nod, settling back into your position on him.

"Mhm. You're warm." He laughs a bit when he hears that, keeping you close. As the movie continues with the both of you watching silently, you find yourself shifting in your position; arm fully coming around Wooyoung's torso. He doesn't mind one bit. As a matter of fact, he loves that you've gotten comfortable enough to do so.

He drops his arm down from the edge of the couch, holding you from behind as the movie continues to play. He gently rubs at your side before his hand falls to your hips. You feel Wooyoung's hand gently squeeze at it before sneaking right underneath your sweater. You freeze, but more so because you're surprised by his touch— not because you don't want him to be right where he is.

"Are you feeling better?"

"I don't know. I just feel bad." You say, eyes still on the TV ahead while you slowly began to relax in his hold.

"You were honest with him, right?" Wooyoung asks as a simple way to poke for more information and get you to open up about dinner. "Wanna tell me how the dinner went?" He traces faint, soft circles on your bare side.

"I was, and I guess that's why I feel bad. It started off fine. We went to the restaurant and we were talking as we always do. Random topics, jokes, going on about life updates. It went downhill when we got our food. It was quiet for a little bit and I knew he was thinking about what to say or how to say it." You pause. "He asked if I enjoyed the party. I said yes, then he asked if it was Jiwoo's plan." Wooyoung cocks a brow.

"What'd you say?"

"I got kinda defensive." You sigh, leaving out the whole moment of you asking Yeo if he thought Wooyoung wouldn't genuinely go to a party with you. "But anyway, I said you wanted to go.. and so did I. And I had a fun time with you."

"Atta girl." He laughs a bit. "And then?"

"He apologized and said he just wished I told him instead of surprisingly showing up. Then.. he laid it out. Said he had feelings for me and couldn't watch on the sidelines anymore. He felt like there could've been a chance, which was probably my fault for keeping that door open for too long." You sit up and face him, Wooyoung's arm still lazily holding you from behind. "I told him that even if I told him about the party beforehand, it wouldn't have changed anything because I couldn't. I liked us the way we were and that we were good as bestfriends. He deserved someone who was sure of him and who could reciprocate his feelings wholeheartedly."

"Then, you didn't do anything wrong, Y/N." You shrug before subconsciously grabbing a piece of lint on Wooyoung's hoodie and flicking it off. 

"He asked something else."

"Which was?"

"He asked if this was about you, a-and I said no." You avoid eye contact and lick your lips out of nervousness. 

"I see." Wooyoung smiles a bit before shifting up in his seat to get closer to you. He leans his cheek onto the palm of his hand, his arm that was behind you is now on the back of the couch— elbow resting on the edge. "Why can't you look at me?" He smirks teasingly.

"I am." You look at him for a minute before shifting your eyes elsewhere in the living room. 

"Was it really not about me, hm?" He hums, brushing the hair away from your face and tucking it behind your ear. "You can tell me, love." He tries to pull you closer by the hand, and you let him.

"Can I?" His eyes quickly shift to the way you play around with his fingers.

"Course."

"Maybe it was."

"Just maybe?" He looks at your lips. "You think that's why you feel bad?" Brief pause. "That you might actually have feelings for me and you couldn't tell him that part?"

"Maybe." You repeat, his lips only inches away from yours. "Isn't that kinda silly?"

"No? I still don't think you did anything wrong, Y/N."

"Really, Woo?" There you go asking him so sweetly again. It's at this point when Wooyoung feels like he can no longer contain himself because you're giving him the answer he had been looking for; straight on a silver platter. 

"Mhm. As far as I know, you were honest when it came to him. What's between us is our business and not his." He says, his tone just barely above a whisper. You don't really know what comes over you, maybe you did have a little bit of liquid courage still running through your veins especially cause what happens next catches you slightly off-guard. You're so sure about your feelings for him, but unsure about Wooyoung's and how he even feels. This could all be a game that he plays, something he does with other women even if he says it isn't.

Guess it doesn't matter much right now. Can't, anyways.

Within the next second, you find yourself initiating the first kiss with Wooyoung; a kiss that feels long overdue. You lean forward and press your lips against his own soft, plump lips, quickly pulling back to get ready and apologize—

But, he doesn't let you. 

He chases after you.

He cups your cheeks and brings you back, thumb gently caressing the surface of your cheek. You haven't kissed someone like this in awhile, but with Wooyoung, it feels.. right. 

Everything about Wooyoung feels right and natural.

He tries to take it slow with you, even when you crawl onto his lap and wrap your arms around him. The kiss becomes more heated, lips bruising from the rising intensity, hunger. Wooyoung slowly slips his tongue in, and hearing a small whimper from you in response only has him gripping your hips harder.

He quickly learns he likes kissing you.

"Been waiting to do this." He says against your lips.

"Have you?" You ask, your tone filled with lust as you continue to peck him with small, repeated kisses.

"Just didn't wanna scare you away."

"You wouldn't have."

"Have to be extra careful with you, baby. You aren't just anybody." The pet name rolls off his tongue so easily that it makes your head tilt back as the desire builds. He continues to hold you close as you slowly roll your hips against him, Wooyoung now kissing your jaw before gently sucking and licking on the surface of your neck;

The column, your throat.

You feel him come to the base and suck a little harder, and you're hoping it doesn't leave much of a mark. If it does, it doesn't fucking matter to you right now— nothing does. Because all you want is for Wooyoung to devour you. To give you everything, to ruin you so good.

"Is this okay? I don't wanna do anything you're not comfortable with—"

"Keep going, Wooyoung. Please." You cut him off. It takes a second for Wooyoung to register your pleading, that 'please' being the one thing that flips his switch. It's not only a want, but a heavy craving. He's got some sort of eagerness to show you just what you've been missing.

"Hold onto me." He says, lifting you with ease as he carries you over to your bed and plops you onto the mattress. He slowly crawls over you, his warm, large hands now cascading up your sweatshirt. Your breathing hitches when he reaches just above your rib cage, and Wooyoung stops when he feels your body tense in his grip. "You sure you're okay?" He presses a kiss to your forehead, down to your nose, your lips. He looks you in the eye with slight concern, afraid of scaring you. The last thing he wants you to think is that he's purely using you for other reasons— when it's definitely more than that.

Wooyoung wants to show you, in case he's bad at voicing his feelings. Cause he can be, clearly. But, he could at least show you and take care of you properly.

"I am."

"You trust me, yeah?" You swallow the lump in your throat as you nod, continuing to keep contact with Wooyoung. "I'll take care of you as long as you let me."

"I want you to." This time, Wooyoung dips forward to lock you into another deep, fervent kiss. His hands are finally roaming further up; Wooyoung letting out a low groan when he finds out you're braless. His thumb swipes over your hardened nipple, tongues fighting for dominance while your hands are tangled in the ends of his hair. You toss his beanie off just as he starts to tug your crewneck over your head and you follow suit with his hoodie. He nibbles on your jaw just before sucking harshly on the skin of your neck. His hand travels down and slips into your pajama pants, fingers delicately rubbing at your clothed pussy that sends a million jolts down your spine. You twitch in response, and Wooyoung can't help but chuckle against your neck.

"So reactive." He teases.

"It's been awhile, Woo."

"And? That's fine, baby. Told you I'd take good care of you." He raises himself slightly to watch your reaction in real-time. "Does that feel good?" He asks, close to a whisper. 

"Yes." You bite your bottom lip and shut your eyes, sighing in satisfaction.

"God. Can feel how wet you are already." Wooyoung feels himself getting painfully hard against your thigh, imagining how tight you are. He doesn't wanna waste another moment, and he thinks he'll lose it if he isn't inside of you within the next few seconds. "Let's take this off, hm?" He hums, hands already tugging your panties and pajama pants down. "Do you have a condom?"

"Don't need it. I'm on the pill." 

"You're sure? I'm clean, but I'll do whatever you're okay with. Just say the word." He asks again to be extra sure.

"I am, I'm sure." You nod eagerly. The pill was mainly to help regulate your heavy, irregular periods, but you'd say you do appreciate it a little more now for this particular reason.

"You're so hot, jesus fucking christ." Wooyoung doesn't say anything else before he's keenly kissing you again, hastily getting out of his sweats. 

Sooner or later, the rest of Wooyoung's clothes are joining yours on the floor; Wooyoung not wasting any seconds reattaching his lips to yours after slipping them off. 

Wooyoung pauses when he sees you fixed on his length— eyes hazy and full of desire. It's giving Wooyoung the biggest fucking ego boost, but that's not important. He strokes himself a few times before lining up with your entrance. He slowly eases himself in, the both of you letting out lewd moans as you both adjust to the feeling. You're tightly wrapped around him and Wooyoung has to keep his composure as he buries himself deep to the hilt. Wooyoung keeps his pace slow and steady; forehead pressed against yours as he thrusts into you. It's nothing rushed, everything about it is slow— so tender, so careful. 

So safe.

"Wooyoung." You moan his name and his brain short-circuits every time you say it the way you do. On top of that, your little whimpers are doing a number on him, but he's trying to keep it together for awhile longer. 

"Doing so well for me, love." He gently bites your chin just as he slightly picks up his pace. He hovers a bit, lips coming back up to meet you in a sweet kiss. He holds it for a minute longer, tongue swiping over your lips as he rolls his hips into you. 

It's intimate. 

It's deep. 

It's raw. 

It's nothing he'd do to his booty calls, no. Everything about those moments are forced and rushed, the end goal having to nut as quickly as possible and get them the hell out of his space.

With you, he's loving every second. He wants to relish in the way your walls feel around him, wants to relish in the way your fingers thread through his hair, wants to relish in the way you kiss him so slowly, so passionately. Like every kiss holds the answers to the universe and you're afraid you'll miss a single detail.

He rests his nose, lips, against your cheek just as he releases a shaky breath, still taking his time as he works his way with you. He comes down to your neck and leaves feathery pecks against the surface while his body is pressed flushed against yours. He turns his head and you've fully wrapped your arms around him. The pace is perfect, with Wooyoung working his hips in circular motions just to hit you in all the right places. He praises you as you continue to moan for him, pretty little mewls slipping from your lips while he tells you how captivating, how angelic, you are for him.

How perfect you are for him.

You find your hips have a mind of their own, working to match Wooyoung's movements. You feel the pleasure building quick at your core, and you know it won't take long from there.

"Wooyoung— just like that, please—oh my god." You sob. While he continues to expertly thrust into you and keep you close, the friction against him causes the coil within you to snap harshly, nails digging deep into Wooyoung's shoulders while he thrusts harder, a bit rougher, to meet his high. 

"F-fuck, baby. I'm about to—" He moans a little louder when he feels you clench a few times around him from the aftershock, quickly pulling out and releasing onto your pussy and abdomen. "Shit—fuck." He pants, finally coming back down from euphoria to see how mesmerizing you look splayed out beneath him; white ribbons of cum painted on your skin. He's completely enamored by you. "Mm'sorry babygirl, let's get you cleaned up." You giggle and shake your head.

"Please, it's fine. Stop looking, you're making me shy again."

"Don't be. You look beautiful." He laughs, slipping on his boxers. "Let me clean you up." He runs to your bathroom to grab some wipes, doing a light jog to clean you up well. You grab your panties and your crewneck after he's done— throwing them on and snuggling under your covers. You fully expect Wooyoung to get dressed and leave [which would suck], but he doesn't. You quietly watch as he shuts off your TV and the lights, going to the bathroom for a quick wash up. Afterwards, he immediately slips underneath your covers right next to you, pulling you onto his chest.

"You're staying?"

"Why wouldn't I?" He chuckles. "C'mere." He pulls you closer. "Sleepy?"

"Incredibly." He smiles.

"I put in some work, huh?"

"Wooyoung." You pout, lightly smacking his chest.

"I'm just joking." He subtly bites his lip. "Can I have one more kiss before we sleep?" You lean up and peck him on the lips a few times, with Wooyoung holding the last kiss before pulling away. "Goodnight, pretty girl."

"Goodnight." You mumble, falling asleep within seconds as you cuddle snuggly against him. Because with Wooyoung, it feels.. right.

Everything about Wooyoung feels right and natural.

—TAGLIST: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @heyitsmetonid @ldysmfrst @intaksfav @wooyoungsbrat @hyukssunflower @yunhoswrldddd

[coco-loco-nut]

007 - part two

pairing: oscar x reader

summary: maybe a soulmate isn’t the worst thing to happen to you

masterlist part one part three requests open

——————

Oscar sent you a text that night. He was a little disappointed when it took you a couple days to reply, but that was quickly made up when you sent a time and location. The mystery around you is thrilling to him.

You wait in the corner of a cafe for Oscar, sipping a flat white. Your eyes immediately find him when he walks in, locked in on him. He quickly orders and makes his way to you. Oscar barely gets in a hello before you get down to business.

“I need you to know something before anything happens. I live a very dangerous life and I don’t plan on stepping away any time soon,” you leave certain things unsaid, like the very real chances of you dying. “It’s hard for the soulmates of those in my line of work. Suddenly the danger meter means more to them, and it can disrupt their lives,” you lean forward a little, subtly emphasizing how important it is.

“I’m a Formula One driver, I am familiar with the risk of dying. I know the risks associated with being your soulmate,” Oscar says and you bite back a remark about his job still being safer than yours. You need to try and be less standoffish.

“Right. Well, I can’t say that I know how to proceed with this. I’m a bit new to the whole thing,” you are a little embarrassed.

“I am too. We can handle it together,” Oscar smiles. He wants to reach across the table to hold your hand, but he doesn’t want to push it so he sips his coffee. “Tell me more about you, all I know is that you do a really dangerous job,” Oscar prompts you.

“Bold statement coming from someone who also has a really dangerous job. I really enjoy traveling, dislike paperwork. When I’m not working, I like reading or taking small trips. Um, I have a cat who is the light of my life,” you pause as Oscar lets out a laugh. “Tell me more about you, more than what your background check tells me,” Oscar sees the playful glimmer in your eye.

“Well, I’ve been getting into cricket and basketball. When I was a kid, I went through this phase where I thought I was a car,” Oscar admits.

“I would always sneak around as a kid, acting like a spy. I guess both of our childhood fantasies worked out,” you hide your bittersweet feelings. Oscar notices but doesn’t push it.

“So I guess you would be the Holly Shiftwell to my Lightning McQueen,” Oscar tries to bring up your mood but you give him confused look.

“But they were never romantic partners?” you say, a little confused with how happy Oscar looks. He’s just happy you have seen the movies and seem to like them enough.

“Semantics. What are you doing now that you aren’t chasing down criminals in the paddock?”

“You mean your soulmate? I’m being forced to take a break from missions right now. Apparently I’ve been hogging all the action and need to help in HQ for a few months,” your distaste for the orders is clear on your face.

“You can join me at a race. If you want to,”

“Really? I don’t want to be a distraction and I don’t know anything about Formula One,” you hesitate, not wanting to impose.

“I want you there. Who better to teach you the sport than me?” Oscar reassures you.

“Well, I guess I will have to take you up on it,” you take the little leap of faith. It’s not something you would normally do. But your soulmate is worth it… right?

You and Oscar agree to a race that is around a month later, giving you time to get to know each other and for him to teach you different aspects of the sport. The month still doesn’t seem to be enough as you arrive at your first race as his soulmate.

“Hey,” Oscar pulls you into a hug as you stand at his hotel room door. He presses a kiss to your forehead before taking your bag as you walk in.

“How was media?” you ask, making yourself comfortable on the bed beside him. It’s clear that he hastily straightened up the room when he got back from free practice.

“Boring, I was counting down the minutes until you got here,” he wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you hum in response. You relax into his warmth, taking in the familiar scent that you’ve found comfort in.

“I couldn’t wait to get out of the office too,” you admit a few moments later. You left a little early to catch a flight here for the weekend.

“Still stuck on paperwork? I must admit, it’s nice not having your danger meter spike,” Oscar murmurs, a little sleepy.

“What’s on your mind?” Oscar observes your distant look when you don’t immediately reply, having learned how to read you more.

“What would you say if I left my job?” you say quietly, almost a whisper. Oscar sits up, needing to properly look at you.

“I’d be a little confused because you love it, but ultimately it’s your choice,” Oscar says, silently asking you to elaborate.

“Well, as soon as someone finds out who I am my cover is blown, putting both of us at risk. It’s a lonely life, and when it was only Boots and me that was okay, but I don’t want to be alone anymore,” you admit, not expecting to feel emotional about it.

“I’ll support you either way, but I don’t want you to quit just for me. What would you do if you left?” he asks, feeling a little guilty.

“The longer I stay in action, the more dangerous my missions will be. Most of mine before didn’t interact with targets, but things will get more dangerous from here. It’s what I’ve worked for my whole life. As for what I would do if I left…” you pause for a second, letting Oscar absorb everything. “Well, your security is seriously lacking, and as your soulmate I think I should do something about that. I was also offered a higher up position that would take me out of action for good,”

“Having my own personal security guard who is also my soulmate? That could be dangerous,” somehow you don’t think Oscar means the kind of danger that would raise your meters.

“Oscar!” Your cheeks flush as you bite back a laugh, acting scandalized. “Alright, I’m going to shower before bed,” you slide out of his arms, looking back at him, knowing what he is about to suggest. “No, you can’t join,” you laugh as he pouts. You two aren’t there yet, but he is proud at how comfortable you are around him.

Oscar leaves early in the morning for free practice, promising to meet you at the gates when you arrive for qualifying. You happily take the extra time to sleep.

Qualifying is your test run. You get a feel for the team and race environment while keeping a low profile. Arriving for the race is a different thing.

“Ready?” Oscar asks as he parks at the circuit. He looks so cozy in his hoodie, and to be fair, you woke him up half an hour before having to leave.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you nervously smile. You are never nervous, but this is different. You are dressed fashionably, but nothing that makes you stand out too much. Your dark sunglasses help hide some of your features as you walk in on Oscars arm. You both look happy as you walk in, and the media notices.

“Oscar!” Logan calls him over, you recognize the American from your initial background check.

“Hey. This is my soulmate, Y/n. Y/n, this is my best friend, Logan,” Oscar introduces both of you.

“Hi, it’s nice to actually meet you,” you hug Logan, taking him by surprise.

“Aww, you talk about me?” Logan coos at Oscar.

“You came up in her background check on me,” Oscar says causing Logan to let go of your hug.

“Weird, but I like it. We are going to be great friends, Leiter and Bond,” Logan rolls with it. He remembers the first time Oscar mentioned you and that’s enough for him.

“You are a sexier James Bond, license to kill and all,” Oscar chimes in, trying to flirt and joke at the same time.

“Oh baby, no. That is nothing like what we do,” you accidentally slip up, and Logan’s eyes widen.

“I thought you were joking. I will keep this to myself though. That’s so cool. Can we watch those movies together?” Logan quickly says, not wanting you to worry. Your initial coolness that Oscar described to him over the past month makes more sense to him now.

“We should get going, I don’t want Zak and Andrea to get mad,” Oscar says, leading both of you away.

“This is the McLaren motorhome, you are welcome to sit in the drivers lounge or in my room while I am in the meeting. Afterwards, I can introduce you to Charles and his girlfriend,” Oscar offers as you look around.

“They should have better security here,” you tut, looking at all the different ways you could easily get in.

“Don’t worry, other teams aren’t coming in and stealing our secrets,” Oscar kisses the side of your head as he leads you upstairs to his drivers room.

“I could always do some recon,” you slyly smile, anything to help him win.

“That’s okay, I don’t need that to win. I have you motivating me,” he smiles, one which falters as a man with brown curly hair comes barreling towards you.

“OSCAR! Is this her? Hi, I’m Lando,” the man, Lando, says, extending his hand.

“Y/n,” you coolly reply, defenses going up as he pulls you into a hug once you take his hand. Oscar can tell you are uncomfortable, Lando springing himself on you.

“Let me help her get settled and I will be down,” Oscar says, cueing Lando to go to the meeting without him. “You are going to look Lando up, aren’t you?” he asks with an amused smile once you are in the safety of his room.

“Yeah, get ready for all his dirty laundry to be aired,” you lightly laugh.

“I look forward to it. I need more blackmail on him. I’ll see you soon, this meeting won’t take long,” Oscar promises, leaving you alone. You spend the half hour he is away looking up his teammate and some other drivers.

“Did I do something wrong?” Lando asks Oscar on their way back to the drivers rooms.

“No, she just wasn’t expecting you. Y/n is pretty guarded around new people, it stems from her job. She will warm up to you,” Oscar replies, not wanting his teammate and soulmate to hate each other.

“Does she work for the government or something?” Lando jokes, a little too accurate.

“Or something, don’t worry about it,” Oscar says, excited to see you again. You wait at the door for Oscar.

“For a professional driver, you have a lot of traffic violations,” you tell Lando, who notices the amused glimmer in your eye and relaxes. Whatever you did during the meeting seems to have worked.

“I have the need for speed,” Lando smiles, happy that you’ve warmed up a little. “Wait, how did you-“

“Don’t worry about it, we will see you later,” Oscar cuts him off, taking you to Ferrari.

“So, Charles is your fake adoptive dad? He has a fairly clean record, I couldn’t find much on him,” you comb over what you learned in your mind.

“Oh, Max is going to love you. You both have cats and you could prep him for whoever he is meeting with,” Oscar laughs, glad that you are taking the time to know his coworkers even if it isn’t the traditional route.

“Max Verstappen? I don’t usually do hits, but I will take out his father for free if he wants,” the way you say it so casually causes Oscar to almost choke.

“I will let him know,” he says, a little unsure how one replies to that.

You are quick to befriend Charles and Alexandra, the latter offers for you to join her while watching the race. You politely decline, but promise to join another race. Oscar takes you around to some other drivers, including Max, before introducing you to more people at McLaren.

You settle into the garage as the race starts, nervous as you watch Oscar on a small screen. You are aware of cameras that are pointed at you, but you ignore them. They don’t know you, all they can do is speculate.

The race is going smoothly until lap 37. Oscar is fighting for position when you fell the sickening twinge of the meter on your arm increasing. Your eyes are glued to the screen as you listen to the team radio, feeling a pit in your stomach.

Carlos and Oscar made contact which at minimum punctured Oscar’s tires. You hear his frustration, but you are just glad that’s all it was.

“Check the front wing too,” you hear him say after confirming he’s okay. He makes it back to the garage safely due to the incident being close to pit lane, but they retire his car due to other damage. Oscar seems too calm to you as he exits the car. Even you would show more emotion in that scenario.

Oscar’s eyes meet yours and before you know it, you are on your feet walking to him. He wraps you in a hug and you gently rub his back. You hold each other for a minute, taking a moment ground each other.

“You okay?” you practically yell over the noise and he just nods, guiding you out of the garage.

“That’s not the win I wanted to give you,” Oscar sighs as you walk back to his room after he gets weighed.

“I hope I’m not bad luck,”

“Never. You are good luck, that should’ve been worse than it was,” Oscar reassures you. A small part of him is happy to be spending time with you.

“I’m sorry your race ended like that, you were driving so well,” you frown, as Oscar squeezes your hand.

“Nothing I can do now, next race is a new opportunity. I have to go do media, do you want to watch the rest in McLaren?” Oscar asks, wanting to know where to find you later.

“I’ll go to Ferrari and watch with Alexandra,” you decide, needing to have friends around here. Oscar nods, leading you to your new friend. He kisses you goodbye before you walk in.

“Hey, are you okay? Those are scary, no matter how minor,” Alexandra greets you when she notices you.

“Yeah. Osc is fine, I’m just upset for him,” you shrug. You’ve seen your partners in danger on missions, but this is a whole different ballgame.

“Grab a seat, want a coffee?” she asks, making sure you are comfortable.

“No, but maybe you can teach me better than Oscar,” you watch her face light up as she immediately dives into sharing her knowledge, explaining everything to you as it happens.

“Come and meet some of the others. Oscar will be pulled into meetings,” Alexandra says, pulling you away from Ferrari.

“Shouldn’t you be with Charles? He must be looking for you,”

“He can wait,” Alexandra waves your concern off as you galavant around the paddock.

Your great experience with the WAGs further conflicted you if you wanted to stay or leave your job. And it all came to a head when you were brought in on an emergency mission once you returned from your weekend away.

This might be your most dangerous recon mission yet. Your part is simple on paper, get in, copy the digital files, get out. It wasn’t simple in execution.

You just skimmed the files, getting crucial information that will stop the operation. Now for the hard part - getting out and getting away.

You slip out of the room, when you hear footsteps getting closer and closer. Just like the stereotype, you slide around a corner and hold your breath, praying they don’t turn your way. They are so close you can feel their body heat beside you. You focus on remaining calm, but this is the most on edge you’ve ever been. You close your eyes as you feel your stomach drop.

This is it. You can see Oscar’s face as he opens his driver room door, two agents standing outside. The agents are solemn as they deliver the news - you were captured and killed on a mission. Every word, every moment is played perfectly in your mind. And your cat, Oscar will have to take care of Boots, a constant reminder of you.

Oscar sits in his post FP2 meeting when it happens, feeling the sickening feeling of your danger meter telling him you were in danger. After it being normal for the past few days, his stomach drops at how high it is.

“I need five,” Oscar runs out like he’s about to puke. You promised in your hastily written letter that you’d try to be safe, but all you really said that you had to leave, couldn’t take your phone, and it was an emergency. He naively thought that you wouldn’t be in the field, that you were just needed on the sidelines. He wasn’t completely wrong, you helped from the side for everything but your part in the operation.

“Oscar? Hey, are you okay?” Lando asks, walking into the room where Oscar disappeared to.

“I- I don’t know,” Oscar looks at his arm, silently pleading for the meter to go down. Lando sees it and just sits beside Oscar.

“Wanna talk about it?” Lando says after a few seconds of silence.

“She left a few days ago with only a note and her cell phone behind. Got an emergency call while I was out. Poor Boots, he must miss his mom. And I know she’s not abandoning me, but I think I finally know how my mom feels about my career,” Oscar says after a minute.

“I assume she’s in the military, or like, a detective to be in danger, and that’s pretty badass of her. I know she came off as cold initially to a lot of us, except when she’s with you and some of the girls, but I can tell that she really likes you. And she seems like she holds her own,” Lando starts listing everything he likes about you from the couple interactions you had during the race day. It helps distract Oscar, calming him little by little.

You step around the corner as soon as the voices fade and come face to face with a security guard. You quickly land a few punches, knocking him out. In the moment you are grateful for your disguise and the cameras that are currently disabled thanks to your team. As you quickly exit the building, you notice another guard tailing you. You quickly get into your getaway car, turning it on and pressing the throttle. It lurches under you, making a hasty exit as they chase you.

Glances in the rear view mirror tell you that you aren’t out of the woods yet. You send a small prayer that Oscar’s talent will be enough as you speed down the street. The car just isn’t fast enough, you are being hunted and the hunter keeps creeping closer and closer. Once again you hope your luck hasn’t run out as you will the car to go just a little faster.

Lando stays seated beside Oscar, trying not to stare at the meter on his teammates arm. He watches the tears run down Oscar’s face as the meter creeps higher, higher, then drops.

[lilacgaby]

title: crush chronicles

pairing: megumi x reader

summary: megumi's crush on you was discovered one by one, until he was finally forced helped to confess.

note: i love megumi.. megumi nation rise up

he figured out he had a crush on you after your first encounter with a special grade.

as you fought, using your technique to manage a blow on the curse, he stood in awe and fear of you. as you were hit back, slamming into the wall with a sickening crack he felt the fear rage inside him ten times over.

yuuji promised to handle the curse, and at that moment megumi ran to you, as fast as his legs could take him, as he picked you up in his arms and ran out the imperfect domain with you in hand.

he knew he was a goner when the first thing you did before he went to save nobara, was poke his cheek at his worried expression, and utter, "you're so cute 'gumi." before falling asleep.

if he wasn't worried for nobara's life, he might've died right then and there.

his shikigami were the second to notice. more specifically, his divine dogs.

you'd always had a liking for them, petting them after a practice match between you and megumi. you even started to carry treats for them, feeding them whenever the missions were finished.

they sensed that whenever you were around, megumi's heart would start to race. they interpreted that you..

were a threat.

now having pulled a complete 180 on you, they refused any form of affection from you. whenever you got near megumi when they were out, they'd circle him in a defensive position, barking at you to stay away.

you sulked for an entire week about this, pouting around as you asked megumi why his dogs no longer liked you. grabbing his arm as you jokingly shook him around.

this only made his heart race faster, and his dogs feel even more inclined to protect him.

it's only when one day, while they scouted for curses ahead, that they noticed megumi patting your head as you celebrated your win, that a realization set in.

you were special to him.

after that, it was all back to normal with you and the dogs, in fact they were even more excited to be with you than normal. megumi smiled fondly at the sight of you with his divine dogs. they grew close to you too, he thought.

the next person to understand was nobara.

she had taken you two out shopping in japan, saying it was important for two girls to look good while they kicked ass.

yuuji and megumi tagged along for some reason, much to her dismay.

"this was supposed to be a girls day! you two aren't girls!"

"it's first-year bonding time."

"give me a break!"

it ended up working out, nobara using yuuji to hold all your bags as you shopped around. eventually you got hungry, and megumi offered to take you to a cafe, leaving a tired yuuji with a hyper nobara.

you two sat at a table and shared a slice of your favorite cake. you laughed as you spoke about the things that just popped into your head, megumi smiling as he listened.

anyone around could see the lovesick look in his eyes.

nobara finally figured out that you two had snuck away, and was annoyed whilst trying to look for you.

as she and yuuji neared the cafe, they saw you two through the window. a lightbulb went off in her head as she saw how close he sat, how he nodded his head after every couple of sentences, how he fiddled with his spoon as he listened deeply to you.

she slid to a stop, making yuuji bump into her.

"okay, let's go back!"

"but we came all this way and they're right there!"

"yes, but they're so gonna kiss soon! so let's go!" she said, shoving yuuji out as he whined about being tired.

yuuji had seen megumi at the cafe, but it wasn't til a day where he had stumbled upon you two in his dorm room together on a hot day that he'd finally pieced it together in his mind.

he'd witnessed a lot of interactions between you and him that were more than platonic sure, but he just didn't think megumi was that kind of guy.

he thought he was just being a gentleman back at the cafe, taking you out because you were hungry.

he thought he was just being kind when he'd offer to tie your shoes and lend you his water when out on missions.

he thought he was just being the nice guy he is when he'd offer to go with you anywhere, to stores or restaurants or whatever you needed.

but yuuji saw how red-faced megumi was as he stared at you in shorts and a tank top. you were laid with your eyes shut on his bed, a fan in your hands as you waved yourself.

he'd never seen megumi so..

striken.

megumi finally noticed yuuji at the door and jumped up.

yuuji held his hands up and with an apologetic smile closed the door behind him.

'he was so down bad.' yuuji thought, immediately texting nobara.

gojo was late to everything, even this realization.

yuuji and nobara were the ones to spill to him, talking about how close you two had gotten, and how they swore he saw you holding his hand on the mission you were sent out on.

gojo had always teased him about you, but he didn't think his special student would fall for his other prized student. how.. fated!

though he was the last one to realize, gojo was the first one to take initiative to make them forcibly admit their feelings to one another, making a plan.

as they formulated it, they realized that the key factor counted on megumi being clueless, because he'd never let them do this otherwise.

so for the next week they plotted, ignoring the confused looks of yours and megumi's as they snickered like witches.

saturday morning, you and megumi received seperate letters to go and meet under a cherry blossom tree. only your note.. had a bit more written at the end.

you both arrived there, you a bit earlier than megumi.

"megumi, it's you?"

he tilted his head in confusion. "what's me?"

"you called me out here to confess to me?" she said, while holding up the page.

megumi was plotting revenge in his head, but..

he shouldn't waste this chance right?

"yes, yes i did." he rubbed the back of his neck before speaking.

"i admire you. you're pretty, and strong, and courageous. you make light of hard situations no matter how scared you are, you're.. really amazing."

"megumi.." as they neared closer to eachother, the flowers from the tree starting to fall freely onto them, accompanying the sunlight draping in from the moving shade.

they shared their first kiss under that tree,

the first of many more.

[marysfics]

Shifting Glances

Week after week, you see her in the waiting room.

Angst, Trauma, EMDR, Comfort, Fluff

Note: In this story, you'll find references to EMDR therapy. I’ve undergone EMDR therapy myself for several years, and while it has been challenging, it has also brought me relief. It's important to note that EMDR can be a unique experience for everyone. The way it's depicted here reflects my personal journey. If your experience with EMDR is different, that's completely okay. Feel free to share your thoughts, but let's all remember to approach these discussions with kindness and respect for one another's experiences.

The clinic smells of antiseptic and lavender-scented air freshener, a juxtaposition that somehow fails to be comforting. You’ve gotten used to it by now, the muted tones of the waiting room, the low hum of the fluorescent lights, and the way the receptionists’ voices hover just above a whisper. It’s always the same, except for her.

You glance up from your seat near the corner, fingers nervously playing with the hem of your shirt. She’s there again, across the room—her presence nearly impossible to ignore. She’s sitting with her head tilted down, long blonde hair cascading over her shoulder, a face mostly hidden under the bill of a cap. Still, you know. You’ve learned to spot the details by now. She’s always wearing loose sports gear, her left knee often taped in some fashion, crutches sometimes leaning against her seat.

You’re not a sports person, so at first, she was just another face, another person passing through the clinic, but then she became something more—a mystery. You’ve stolen more than a few glances during the weeks you’ve sat waiting for your turn. The routine was nearly identical: you both arrived at the same time each week, a brief flicker of acknowledgment between your eyes before you both looked away, as though there was something too dangerous in holding that gaze for too long.

You steal another glance at her, curiosity buzzing beneath the weight of everything else. She has that same air of exhaustion, though you assume hers comes from something more physical. You don’t know her, not really. Just a face, a woman who happens to sit in the same room as you once a week.

Today is no different, except something feels heavier. There’s a quiet ache in your chest that refuses to leave. EMDR therapy—Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing—it’s exhausting, and today, it feels impossible.

You know you’ll be going through the usual: being asked to relive memories, to feel things you’ve spent years suppressing, and to heal what’s been fractured inside of you. It’s tiring and it leaves you feeling hollow at times, especially when you leave. The vulnerability in those sessions never fails to drain you, and you always wonder if it’s helping or just opening old wounds.

But today, you notice something else. Her fingers fidget more than usual, her eyes flickering between her phone screen and the door. Anxiety. She’s nervous too.

The nurse calls your name, interrupting your thoughts. You stand, giving her one last glance, but this time, you don’t look away as quickly as you usually do. To your surprise, her gaze meets yours for the first time in weeks—really meets it. There’s something in her expression, something you can’t quite name. Maybe recognition. Maybe sympathy.

Your feet feel heavier than usual as you walk to the nurse, but there’s a buzzing under your skin now. Her eyes linger on you even as you turn your back, a weight you feel but don’t dare acknowledge. The conversation between the nurse and your therapist is distant, your mind still locked in that fleeting moment of connection.

Why did she look at you like that?

The door closes softly behind you, and you sit down on the familiar couch in your therapist’s office. The room is softly lit, the same as every week, but today it feels different. Or maybe you feel different. Your mind is already racing, though not about the usual memories that drag you under.

“Ready to start?” your therapist asks, her voice calm, grounding you slightly.

You nod, but your mind keeps tugging back to the waiting room, to her—what’s-her-name—sitting there with those tired eyes that somehow looked straight into you. It’s not like it was the first time you’d stolen a glance. But it is the first time she looked back.

The session moves forward in a blur. The rhythmic back-and-forth of your therapist’s fingers in front of your eyes, the instructions to focus on your memories, to feel them without being overwhelmed by them. But today, it’s harder. Harder to concentrate. Harder to dive into the past when your present is hanging on the thread of something unspoken in that waiting room.

Why did she look at me?

The therapist’s voice blends into the background as your eyes follow her hand back and forth, back and forth—trying to focus, trying to do what you’re supposed to. But the room feels wrong today. Usually, this process grounds you, pulls you deep into the recesses of your mind, where old wounds wait to be confronted. But today, your mind is somewhere else entirely.

More specifically, on her.

You’ve spent weeks perfecting the art of pretending she doesn’t exist. A stolen glance here, a quick look away there. She’s always been on the periphery, a quiet presence you’ve never acknowledged out loud. It’s become part of your routine—pretending not to notice her, letting her fade into the background like the murmur of the clinic around you.

But today, she didn’t stay in the background. Today, she noticed you. She looked at you. Not the polite, disinterested glances you’re used to exchanging with strangers in waiting rooms, but something else. Something charged.

Why did she look at me like that?

The therapist’s voice cuts through your thoughts, soft but firm. “Stay with me. What do you feel right now?”

What do you feel?

You swallow, trying to push the image of her from your mind, but it doesn’t budge. Her eyes—the way they held yours for just a second longer than necessary, how something flickered in them before she quickly looked away. Recognition? Or maybe something else? Sympathy? Sadness?

“Um, I feel… I don’t know,” you admit, shaking your head slightly, trying to focus. You’re supposed to be processing your pain, your own tangled memories, but your brain is stubbornly clinging to the way her fingers fidgeted in her lap, the way her leg bounced with impatience. The way her shoulders seemed to carry an invisible weight, just like yours.

Your therapist doesn’t push, though her eyes study you carefully. She shifts in her seat, slowly moving her hand back and forth again, drawing your focus back.

“Stay present,” she repeats gently, and you try. You really do. You close your eyes for a moment, breathing in slowly, trying to feel something other than the strange energy still buzzing under your skin.

But as soon as you open your eyes again, your mind is back in the waiting room. You can almost see her sitting there now, shoulders hunched, the corner of her lip pulled between her teeth as she stared at her phone, looking anxious—maybe even upset. Was it something on the screen that bothered her? Or was it the reason she’s here at all? The knee she cradled with unconscious care, as though even sitting still caused her discomfort?

You don’t know her story. You barely even know her name. But you can’t shake the feeling that there’s something more under the surface, something that runs deeper than just an injury or a tired glance. Something that mirrors your own pain in a way that feels unsettlingly familiar.

“Can we take a break?” you ask suddenly, your voice sounding too loud in the quiet room.

The therapist pauses, her hand still mid-movement. She lowers it slowly and nods. “Of course. Do you want to talk about what’s on your mind?”

You hesitate. Talking about what’s on your mind usually means revisiting the same memories you’ve been unpacking for months. Trauma that you’ve carried with you like a second skin, the kind that weighs you down and makes you feel like you’re suffocating in your own body. That’s what therapy is supposed to be for—that pain.

But right now, it’s not the past tugging at your mind. It’s the now. The girl sitting across from you every week, the unspoken weight of her presence lingering in your thoughts like a slow burn.

“I… I’m just distracted,” you say, your voice quieter now, unsure.

Your therapist doesn’t press, just nods in understanding. “That’s okay. Sometimes our minds drift when we’re processing a lot. We can pick up whenever you’re ready.”

You nod, grateful for the reprieve, but your mind keeps spinning. The session feels heavier today. Usually, the weight is familiar—the kind of weight you’re used to carrying alone. But now there’s something—or someone—else filling your head, making it hard to sort through your usual patterns.

Why did she look at me like that?

You replay the moment in your mind again, trying to decode it. You tell yourself it doesn’t mean anything, that you’re overanalyzing a simple glance. People look at each other all the time. She probably doesn’t even remember it now, back to whatever’s pulling at her in her own life. But still… the way her eyes lingered.

Your thoughts tumble into a messy loop of frustration and curiosity. Did she feel something too? Or was it all in your head? She’s a stranger. Just a face you’ve seen in passing. You don’t know her, not really. But somehow, that one glance has you questioning everything.

The therapist’s voice breaks through again, softer this time. “Do you want to try and continue?”

You nod, even though your mind is still miles away from where it should be. As the therapist raises her hand again, beginning the familiar motions in front of your eyes, you take a deep breath, hoping this time you can focus.

But even as your gaze follows the movement of her hand, your mind drifts back to the waiting room, back to those tired eyes and the way they seemed to see something in you. Something you’re not sure you want to face.

And for the first time in weeks, it’s not your own memories that are haunting you.

As the session drags on, the rhythm of your therapist’s hand becomes background noise to the thoughts that swirl relentlessly in your head. You try to bring yourself back to the task at hand, back to the healing process you’re supposed to be focused on, but you feel adrift, untethered.

Her eyes won’t leave your mind. That flicker of something—connection, maybe—that felt so intense in that brief glance. You can still feel it, like a pulse that’s not entirely your own.

It feels ridiculous, honestly. This isn’t supposed to happen. You’re here to heal, to peel back the layers of yourself and work through the wreckage inside your mind. You’re here to process your trauma, not to get caught up in the orbit of a stranger who happens to sit across from you once a week. A stranger you don’t even know by name.

Still, the thought of her consumes you.

Why did she look at me like that?

The question hammers in your brain, louder now that you’ve allowed yourself to acknowledge it. There’s a strange comfort in the idea that maybe she sees something in you, too. That maybe the weight she carries isn’t so different from your own. You’ve been drowning in your own pain for so long—what would it feel like to share that with someone who understands? To find recognition in someone else’s eyes?

Or is that just you, projecting?

Focus. You need to focus.

You force yourself to sit up a little straighter, your hands gripping the edge of the chair as your therapist’s voice drifts back into your awareness. You know she’s watching you carefully, noting the way you’ve been distant, distracted, ever since you walked into the room. You haven’t been present today, haven’t really felt anything but the odd, lingering sensation of her—the woman with the tired eyes and the worn knee brace.

You wonder what she’s here for, what injury brought her to this clinic. You’ve pieced together the clues over the weeks—her knee, the way she sometimes leans on crutches, the soft wince she tries to hide when she stands up. Maybe she’s an athlete, or used to be. You’ve caught glimpses of logos on her clothing that hint at something sports-related, but it’s not your world. You wouldn’t know.

Yet despite not knowing, you feel it—the heaviness in her, the same way you feel it in yourself. There’s something unspoken, something you’ve both been avoiding in your stolen glances.

The therapist’s hand passes in front of your eyes again, and you try to refocus. You try to reach for the memories she’s guiding you toward, the ones you’re supposed to be reprocessing. But the memories feel hazy today, like they’re distant and out of reach. Usually, they’re so vivid—too vivid. But now, they’re dulled by the present, by the way your mind is pulling you somewhere else entirely.

“Let’s take another pause,” your therapist suggests, her voice patient but concerned.

You exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, nodding gratefully. The tension in your body eases just slightly, but your mind is still racing.

“I think…” you begin, your voice hesitant. “I’m just not all here today.”

Your therapist waits, giving you space to elaborate. You know she’s used to this. Distraction is common during these sessions, but you’ve never felt this kind of restlessness before. This kind of… preoccupation.

“There’s… someone,” you admit finally, the words slipping out before you’ve had time to really think them through. “In the waiting room. I keep getting distracted thinking about her.”

Your therapist tilts her head, curious but not judgmental. “Someone in the waiting room?”

You nod, feeling a little foolish now that you’ve said it out loud. “Yeah. I don’t even know her name, but we’re always there at the same time. We’ve never talked, but today… today she looked at me differently.”

Your therapist stays quiet, letting you find your words. Her patience helps, but it also makes you feel exposed, like you’re admitting to something fragile and uncertain.

“And it just—it’s been stuck in my head,” you continue, your voice quieter now, as if saying it louder might make it too real. “I don’t know why it’s affecting me so much. It’s just… I can’t stop thinking about it.”

You’re not sure what you want from this confession. Reassurance, maybe? Validation? Someone to tell you that you’re not losing your mind over a brief glance from a stranger?

Your therapist’s expression softens, but she doesn’t immediately dive into analysis. Instead, she asks, “What do you think it is about her that’s sticking with you? Is there something familiar, something that reminds you of yourself?”

The question lingers in the air between you, and you feel your chest tighten. It’s not something you’ve allowed yourself to fully consider. The way she looks at you. The way she seems just as weighed down by something invisible. The recognition, maybe, of pain.

“I don’t know,” you say, but the words don’t feel entirely true. “Maybe.”

Your therapist nods thoughtfully, but doesn’t press further. “It’s normal to connect with others in ways that might surprise us, especially when we’re going through difficult things ourselves. If she reminds you of something—of yourself, of a feeling—it’s okay to acknowledge that.”

You nod, but your mind is still racing. What is it that you see in her? Is it really just a reflection of your own pain, or is there something more? Something in the way she carries herself, the way her eyes met yours like she was trying to say something she couldn’t put into words.

“Do you want to explore that more?” your therapist asks gently. “Or would you rather focus on something else for now?”

You hesitate, feeling torn. Part of you wants to dig into it, to figure out why this woman has such a hold on your thoughts. But another part of you feels scared—scared of what you might find if you look too closely.

“I’m not sure,” you admit quietly. “I guess… I’m not sure if I’m ready to.”

Your therapist nods again, understanding. “That’s okay. We can take it at your pace. But if you want to talk about it more, we can always come back to it.”

You feel a strange mixture of relief and apprehension. Talking about her—about that glance, that moment—feels like opening a door you’re not sure you want to walk through. But at the same time, you know that you’ll think about it for the rest of the day. Maybe for longer than that.

As the session winds down, your mind is still preoccupied, but there’s a little more clarity now. Maybe it’s not just the glance itself that’s bothering you. Maybe it’s what that glance represents—the possibility that someone else sees you in a way you’re not used to being seen. That someone else might be carrying their own weight, just as heavy as yours.

And as you step out of the therapist’s office, back into the familiar waiting room, your eyes instinctively search for her. For the woman who has somehow taken up so much space in your mind.

But now, her seat is empty.

And suddenly, the room feels a little colder without her presence.

The week drags on in a strange, heavy haze. Every day, your mind keeps drifting back to her—back to that brief, fleeting glance that’s somehow managed to burrow deep under your skin. It’s ridiculous, you tell yourself. You’re overthinking it, turning something meaningless into something monumental. You’ve spent so long keeping people at arm’s length, hiding yourself behind carefully constructed walls, and now, one moment with a stranger has you spiraling into obsession.

You try to shake it off. You try to focus on work, on your routine, on anything but her. But it’s like a splinter in your mind. No matter how much you push it away, it’s always there, just under the surface. You catch yourself replaying the moment over and over again—the way her tired eyes locked with yours, the faintest flicker of recognition passing between you. Did she feel it too? Or are you imagining it?

On Wednesday, you find yourself walking past the clinic—deliberately, even though you don’t have an appointment. You glance through the glass door, half-expecting to see her sitting there, leg bouncing nervously, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her jacket. But the waiting room is empty, and the sight of it leaves you with a strange hollowness in your chest.

What if she doesn’t come back?

The thought gnaws at you. It’s irrational, but the possibility that you might never see her again—that this inexplicable connection could vanish as quickly as it appeared—makes you feel like something important has slipped through your fingers. Something you didn’t even realize you were missing.

Get it together. You need to move on.

But by Friday, the restlessness is back in full force. You find yourself lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering. Wondering if she’s thinking about you too. Wondering if she felt the same pull, the same strange energy lingering between you.

Maybe you’ll never know. Maybe it’s better not to know.

But as the next week rolls around, you feel a nervous anticipation building in your chest. Your next appointment is coming up, and the thought of seeing her again—of what might happen this time—has your mind racing in a way that feels almost… dangerous.

What if she’s there?

What if she’s not?

The questions twist and turn inside you, and by the time your appointment day arrives, you’re practically buzzing with a nervous energy you can’t quite contain. You tell yourself it’s stupid, that you’re being irrational. You’re supposed to be focusing on your healing, not obsessing over some stranger you’ve never even spoken to. But the truth is, you haven’t felt this alive in a long time.

When you walk into the clinic, your eyes immediately sweep the waiting room. For a moment, the space feels empty, cold. But then, there she is—sitting in the same spot as always, her knee braced, her posture tense. She’s staring at her phone again, her fingers tapping the screen, but you notice the way her leg bounces restlessly. There’s a tension in her shoulders, a tightness in the way she’s holding herself, like the weight she’s carrying is a little heavier today.

You pause just inside the door, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest. You weren’t prepared for this, not really. Seeing her again feels like stepping into a current you can’t control. You want to look away, to keep pretending she’s just another person passing through your life. But instead, you find your gaze lingering on her, the same way it did last week.

And then, just like before, she looks up.

This time, there’s no hesitation in her gaze. Her eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the room falls away. The world outside fades, and all you can feel is the intensity of her stare, the weight of something unspoken passing between you. It’s like you’re both suspended in the same moment, tethered by something invisible and undeniable.

You freeze, unsure of what to do. Should you smile? Look away? Say something? But before you can make a decision, she shifts in her seat, straightening up slightly, her gaze flickering with something you can’t quite read. There’s recognition there, yes, but also something deeper. Something like understanding. Or maybe even… curiosity?

Your throat feels tight, your pulse quickening. You don’t know what to do with this feeling, this connection that seems to be growing stronger with every second you hold her gaze.

And then, she does something you didn’t expect.

She nods.

It’s subtle, just a small dip of her head, but it feels like a monumental shift. Like she’s acknowledging you—not just as a stranger, but as someone… more. Someone she’s noticed, someone she’s maybe been thinking about too.

Your breath catches in your throat, and before you can stop yourself, you find yourself nodding back. It feels awkward, stilted, but it’s the only thing you can think to do in the moment. It’s not much, but it’s something. A bridge, maybe. A connection.

You take a seat across from her, your body tense with nervous energy. You can feel her presence, like a subtle pull in the air between you. Neither of you speaks, but the silence isn’t uncomfortable. It’s charged, filled with all the things you’re not saying, all the questions you’re not asking.

The door to your therapist’s office opens, and her familiar voice calls your name. You stand up, feeling a strange reluctance to leave the waiting room, to leave her behind. But as you turn to head toward the office, you steal one last glance at her.

She’s still watching you.

And for the first time in weeks, you don’t look away.

The session that follows is one of the hardest you’ve had in a long time. The therapist guides you through your memories with a gentle persistence, pushing you to confront parts of your past that you’ve been carefully avoiding. Today, it’s not just the weight of your own pain that feels unbearable—it’s the weight of everything you’ve been holding back for so long.

Your memories of childhood are raw, jagged, and unsettling. You find yourself reliving moments of fear and isolation, the sting of harsh words, the bruises you tried to hide. The sessions are usually a mix of distant recollections and present-day reflections, but today, the past crashes into you with a force that makes it hard to breathe. Your mother’s anger, her frustration, her harsh words—they’re all too close, too real. It’s like the boundaries between then and now have dissolved, leaving you exposed and trembling.

When the session ends, you barely manage to pull yourself together. Your eyes are red, streaked with tears, and your face feels hot and heavy with emotion. You nod to your therapist, a wordless acknowledgment of the work you’ve done. You need air—space to breathe and let the turmoil inside you settle.

You stumble out of the office, the hallway seeming longer than usual. You make your way to the clinic’s entrance, your steps unsteady, your mind still tangled in the remnants of painful memories. The cool air hits your face, and you stop just outside the door, letting it wash over you. It feels like a fleeting reprieve from the storm raging inside.

And then, you see her.

She’s standing there, just outside the door, her back to you. You recognize her immediately—Alexia. She’s wrapped in a coat, her arms crossed tightly in front of her. You can see her shoulders trembling slightly, and as you watch, she turns and looks at you. Her eyes are red and swollen, tears still glistening on her cheeks.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. The silence between you is heavy, filled with unspoken understanding. You can see the same rawness in her face that you feel in your own. It’s as if both of you are caught in the aftermath of a storm, trying to find a way to navigate the wreckage.

Alexia takes a step toward you, her gaze meeting yours with a vulnerability that makes your heart ache. “I didn’t expect to see you,” she says softly, her voice wavering. There’s a tremor in her tone, like she’s struggling to keep herself composed.

You open your mouth to respond, but no words come. The sight of her—so open, so unguarded—strikes a chord deep within you. It’s not just about the glance you shared or the way you’ve been obsessing over her. It’s something deeper, something you’ve been grappling with in your own way.

“I…” you start, but the words fail you. Instead, you take a tentative step toward her, the distance between you shrinking as you both stand in the cold air, the weight of your shared pain hanging in the space around you.

Alexia looks down, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been coming here for a while. I didn’t think anyone noticed.” She pauses, her eyes meeting yours again, filled with a mix of sadness and curiosity. “You looked at me today like you understood something. I felt the same way.”

Her words hit you hard, echoing the thoughts that have been circling your mind all week. It’s as if she’s voicing the unspoken connection you both felt—the shared weight, the recognition of each other’s pain.

“I didn’t mean to stare,” you finally say, your voice rough from the emotions you’ve been grappling with. “I just… I saw something in you. I don’t know what it was, but it felt familiar.”

Alexia nods, a tear slipping down her cheek. “It’s strange,” she says, her voice breaking slightly. “I’ve felt like I was carrying this alone. And then you came in, and for some reason, it felt like… like maybe someone else understood.”

The shared understanding between you deepens, and you feel a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, you’re not as alone as you’ve felt. The connection you’ve both sensed, the unspoken recognition—it’s not just in your head. It’s real, and it’s giving you both a moment of connection that you’ve been craving.

Without thinking, you reach out, offering her a small, hesitant smile. “If you want to talk… or if you just need someone to be here,” you offer, your voice steadying despite the tears still lingering in your eyes.

Alexia’s gaze softens, and she nods. “I’d like that,” she says quietly. “I think I’d like that a lot.”

Part 2

[andersonfilms]

≛ THE APPLE'S ROTTEN STRAIGHT TO THE CORE!

❝ ABBY!CENTRIC ONE SHOT ❞

♪ ˚. THE BRAT CHALLENGE ♱ ⋆.˚

feat. drummer!abby x fem!reader x footballplayer!ellie

warnings. eighteen+, nsfw content: switch!abby (kinda), jealousy, cheating, abby’s pierced nipples, reader desc. feminine, fingering, munch activities, toxicity ensuing, voyerisum, strap sex.

THE APPLE'S ROTTEN STRAIGHT TO THE CORE, ellie williams, sporting 88’ on the back of her jersey, the world renowned football player from the united states. the overly competitive blood runs through her veins, passed down from her father, just as well as an overpowering ego the size of texas. she has the girl of her dreams, the most important game of her life in sight, but what happens when one drummer threatens to wreck it all?

wc. 10k

It’s easy to feel safe and comfortable with her, slipping into a simple life. Traveling the world with your favorite soccer player, the auburn-haired five-foot-five of pure talent, as soon as her custom cleats step foot on the field. 

When the crowd echoes chants of her name, the rumbling of the rowdy fans, aggressive shouts cursing the other team. With crushed beer cans, sunflower seeds are spat on the ground, and they are begging for a goal. The 88’ jersey was littered across the stands. Every fan in the arena went to see her, yet you aren’t here. 

It was one of the biggest games of her career, and you would not be seen anywhere, especially after the past week. She doesn’t blame you; Ellie could only blame herself but needs her good luck charm. The events replaying in her mind, haunting her while she tries to get one wink of sleep, but the look of horror in your eyes, the shoulder check you left her with, green eyes pleading to reason with her, but you refused. 

Let me know when you want to grow the fuck up and tell me what’s wrong with you. 

The words running in her mind, haunting her as she sleeps at night, wondering if today is the day the stone will be unturned or if she’ll actually tell you everything bothering her. But she doesn’t. Never had she seen you like it; rage carries higher than the waves of a tsunami, and all of it, every drop of water, seems to be crashing over her. 

Every drop of it suffocates her until there is no oxygen left to breathe. 

When she gets home, she scours the apartment for a trace of you, yet half of your belongings are absent. Ellie starts to wonder if she’s pushed you too far this time. Always, she’s betted on you sticking around through thick and thin but maybe you finally had enough. 

Has she pushed you too far? Are you too far out of reach? She has no choice but to let you drown with the devil itself, succumbing to your own needs for once, not hers. 

The side of the closet holding your belongings was in disarray. Ellie could see that your favorite belongings were absent. All the sweaters, hoodies, hell, even the flannels you would steal from her were meticulously folded and placed in the corner. 

Ellie thought you would give her the benefit of the doubt. She thought you would let her explain why she had taken the job offer without consoling you. Now, considering what she seems to be losing, there’s nothing she wishes for more than to take it all back. 

Any success is so trivial if she has no one to celebrate it with, not without you. 

From the very start, you’ve been right there by her side. From the very beginning, it wasn’t as picture-perfect as she imagined. The fairytale began with what she thought would be a never-ending love story. 

Something so pure, it could never turn rotten. 

—

Growing up on the outskirts of New York had its perks. The small town was busy, yet the countryside tucked an hour away gave you a sense of solitude. Entirely predictable suburbs, the cul-de-sac tucked in the back of the neighborhood reeks of disturbed suburbia. 

Everyone knew everyone, and you knew Ellie. 

You were ten the day the two of you became friends, and you’ll never forget it. Clumsily, you had just fallen off your bike, knees skidding by the concrete as the skin had been peeled, the wound viciously open. 

“Did you fall—” the girl shakes her head at herself, curses flying into the wind. “Of course you did. God, so stupid.” 

She continues talking to herself as you weep slightly in a pathetic manner. Affectionately, the mysterious girl who also happens to be riding her bike past the park in your neighborhood pats you gently on the shoulder. 

“I'll be right back. Stay there. I'll be back. Promise.” 

She disappears on her blue and red bike, red hair flying in any direction the wind takes, but returns just like she said — a girl of her word. 

“Here, let me fix you.” She grabs the first-aid kid from the bucket on her bike. Ellie kneels on the ground. You notice her bright blue Converse with red laces, which match her bicycle perfectly. 

“Yeah, okay—” you sniffle, wiping away your tears as the nice girl tends to your knee. “Thanks.”

She grabs the needed tools, “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. Well, I used to fix my dad all the time. He's a soccer player and gets hurt a lot. 

You stay silent as she rambles on. 

“One day, going to be just like him, but better. My old man got too old before he decided to be good. I'm going to be the best player ever.” 

“I bet you will be.” your eyes find hers, the sun making them shine like an emerald diamond, just like the one your mom wears on her ring finger. 

“My coach says I'm good already but tells me not to get my hopes up.” 

You realize Ellie has already cleaned your wound; her small hand applies pressure with the gauze as he wraps it away. She's so concentrated but simultaneously rambles away about her dad, the last soccer game she played in, and jokes to get your mind off the pain. 

“How does it feel?” Ellie asks, the corner of her lip upturns, a soft smile gracing her freckled, full cheeks. 

“Better,” you thank her, smiling shyly. She observes you as you hop back on your bike, ensuring you aren't in pain. Curiously, her mind drifts to how cute you are, and she wonders why her stomach is in complete knots. 

She confuses it for sickness. 

“You’re welcome.” Ellie stretches the nape of her neck, and her short hair sticks to her skin from the heat. “I'm Ellie, by the way.” 

“I know.” You offer your name as Ellie blushes, her cheeks tinted pink. The love you feel is etched right into her heart, and she feels it from the first moment your name is said. 

In a cliche, obvious way, the rest was history. 

The two of you were best friends until college, bringing out the best in you—platonic love blossoming into something sweet, a one-in-a-million love you can only hope to find in someone else. 

The tricky thing? It works. The two of you fit better than you could have ever dreamed of. The incredible bliss of youth leaves your faith blinded, corrupted by the true love you have for Ellie. Oblivious to flaws, all you see is her. Assuring you follow her around like a lost puppy; anything she wants, she gets. The skeletons in the closet are no match for the two of you, each being dragged out one by one. 

But not by either of you. 

— 

One Week earlier…

“Would you stop so we can talk about this?” Ellie nearly shouts at you, granting her another eye roll, she’s lost count on how many you’ve thrown at her since the two of you left the club. The longing looks, her wandering olive eyes on someone else all night, gawking at the muscles, making you feel envious of someone you couldn’t have. 

Your girlfriend’s attention. 

But this is all your fault, right? 

“Talk about what? How you, Ellie, made a decision to make a life altering decision without me? Yeah, okay, let’s fucking talk.” You have a bite in your voice, one Ellie has rarely heard, the sweetness diluted with her consistent need to keep you in the dark. “Fucking talk, please. I’d love to hear the bullshit excuse you’re gonna give me.” 

“Why are you making this a big deal? It’s my career, not yours.” You bite your tongue as the words leave your mouth. Instantly, you feel burned by the person who thought loved you more than anything. Even in the heat of the moment, you figured she would give you the benefit of the doubt, even when you’ve been blind sided by her teammates. All because she was too much of a coward to tell what she’s already done. “Right. Foolish of me to think we’re a team.” 

Spitefully, you throw your belongings in your tote, ignoring when she tries to grab your wrist, dodging her quickly. She tries again but stops when you tell her to. The only boundary she leaves untouched it seems. 

“We are a team.” Ellie tries to convince you, but you don’t budge. Not an inch of you believes the shit she’s spewing at you. 

“Oh! Well, that’s a surprise to me. If we’re such a team, why don’t you tell me why you won’t have sex with me….for eight months?” You raise your eyebrows at her, giving her an opportunity to speak but she stays silent like she always does. “If we’re such a team, why did you accept a job offer on another continent without even giving me the respect to tell me about it before you accepted the offer?” 

Ellie stays silent, finding the hardwood beneath her feet more interesting. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 

You change into something more comfortable, slamming the bathroom door shut as you do, gathering other toiletries, different necessities you would need for the next few weeks. 

You find her sitting on the edge of the bed in tears, as much as you want to hug her and give her the comfort she probably needs, there’s no good will in your heart. As much as you love her, only the boiling anger can be found. Blistering frustration, the one someone has when their girlfriend won’t touch them, kiss them, or even warrant them the truth. 

“I love you, okay? I just need to figure some things out.” Ellie pouts, eyebrows furrowed as she says enough to get you to look at her. She sees the tears threatening to spill over, but you won’t let them fall in front of her. Never have you liked crying in front of others. Just as if she was anyone else, you would wait until you were in private to lick your wounds. “I just need some time, I just don’t know what’s happening to me.” 

But all sincerity is lost, all you see in front of you is lies and deceit. Someone backed in the corner with no way to manipulate their way out. 

“Well…figure your shit out, Els. Right now? It doesn’t seem like you do.” You grab your bags, slipping your shoes on, “I’ve had enough for now. Let me know when you grow the fuck up and let me know what’s wrong with you.” 

— 

Still, your blood boiled from last week’s exchange, the venomous words crawling up your throat like bile, as if this wasn’t what she wanted, what she started. All of this had been her idea. 

Time and time again, dismissive words found their way into your heart, making a home before you had enough time to catch them. Sure, committed and faithful, she says. Then, she does this, makes your decisions without consulting you, and scolds you for getting upset about it. You craved space, so you did what any rational person would. 

Swiftly packed your bags and flew to the other side of the country. 

The fresh feeling is still swarming through your head, and the lingering words are aimed at your heart with more impact than you could stand. When they were told, Ellie regretted them the second they left her heart-shaped lips. Yet she stands there as she analyzes your tense frame, avoiding her at all costs. 

You leave her with a soft murmur: staying at a friend’s. What you neglect to mention is that your friend lives on the other side of the country, tucked away in the safety of New York. Luckily, the nightlife is an easy distraction and does its job. 

Intentionally, the first few nights are spent drowning yourself in liquor, letting yourself be grinded on by other drunk girls until they buy you shots, walking up back in your hotel room alone — then the cycle repeats. 

The tranquility of a life forgotten, the gift of Don Julio, so like anyone else, you chase it. The drinks are free, the girls flirting with you are prettier than you’d ever seen but maybe that’s just the loneliness eating you up from the inside out. Yet, you find yourself itching to venture beneath, allow yourself to drown in someone else. Was there black lace? Possibly white or navy green boxers underneath? But you couldn’t, and you won’t. The guilt would eat you alive. 

You told yourself it was just a fight, but was it? It’s when the second thought seeped in, invading the pessimistic part of your brain and feeding into malicious tendencies. Maybe you do want this? Something new? 

Someone who wasn’t Ellie. 

The thought alone sends shivers down your spine; an agonizing dread fills you. Never had you ever been provoked to leave, but the longer the silence welcomes you with open arms, the more the affliction lingers. 

No text. No calls. No voicemails. Nothing.  

Part of you ached for resolution. Even if it meant a means to an end, you could somehow soothe the aching in your chest. On the seventh day, she reached out. 

A lazy effort of a text — couldn’t even be bothered to call. 

elsbaby: can we talk, baby? please. 

Perhaps if it had been the day after, two, three, even four — you would have the compassion to empathize. When she comes crying a week later after she spewed the most severe insults you’ve ever heard come out of her mouth? Any need to reconnect has dissipated at the drop of a hat. 

this is what you wanted. 

It shouldn’t make you spiral, but it does. You end up at a show; a rock band takes center stage at The Wolfhouse, and upcoming musicians try to make a name for themselves. Sitting at the bar, letting the vibrations of the base and the thumping of the snare drum infiltrate 

Solemnly tapping the beat of your healed boot to the beat of the drum, you take in the singer on the stage. Black raven-haired beauty with a prominent nose and beautiful lips. She made the stage her own as she worked every angle known to man. 

A firm belief is settled in your heart and everyone in there. She was born to be up there. You were too entranced, enjoying the music too much along with the cocktail in your hand, and you didn’t even notice the blonde making her way up to you. 

As soon as you felt someone next to you, the first thought in your mind was how hellbent you were to be left alone. Even if it physically put you in distress, fuck, you couldn’t even remember the last time Ellie and you went on a date. The last time she touched you, kissed you, fucked you within an inch of your life. 

It’s a pathetic, good for nothing excuse. 

The line of morality blurs whenever your eyes latch onto eyes so gray the blue almost fades into them. Gorgeous freckles scattered across her smooth cheeks like twinkling stars in the galaxy. 

Slowly, she takes your figure in, examining you up and down before smirking. She says nothing to you as she orders a neat whiskey. She hands her silver credit card to the bartender, “and whatever she wants for the rest of the night.” 

You think for a moment she’ll talk to you, but she winks before settling into a booth with four others who look oddly familiar. The rest of the night, you’re met with tranquility and the steady and skilled bump of the bass guitar. It reminded me of when you were young, ambitions were the only thing on your mind, and you were lost in the never-ending need to be someone. It’s when you still believe something is worth living for, more than beating your drum to someone else’s tune. 

You sipped on three Mexican martinis throughout the night and got lost when you walked up to the bar. The beefy, muscular blonde was there to greet you. This time, you got a clear look at her. Her rugged and toned frame shows off her commitment to the gym. 

Yet, her deep blue pools are more charming than you would like to admit. A delicate edge to her jawline pulls you in as you admire the septum ring decorating her freckled nose, the bump in her nose making you smile softly. 

You’ve always loved a girl with an intense nose for many reasons. 

Mouth-watering, luscious, bliss - are all the words coming into mind when you’re looking at her. She’s wearing as little clothing as you would expect someone who leans masculine to wear, but fuck does she know it works for her. Black leather vest worn in, eating you up from the inside out, the musky scent filled with mahogany and a dash of vanilla. 

The mysterious blonde's lack of undershirt adorns her body and steals the show. Immediately, she commands attention in every conceivable way. As mesmerizing as the raven-haired beauty appears, you would pay a lot to see her front and center on that stage. The shape of her small breasts is the real show in your mind, and the broad and toned torso gives you much to gawk at. 

Nearly, you salivate at the defined four-pack she’s sporting. A pretty enticing deep v disappears delectably into her black leather pants as if she’s a modern-day adonis but with divine feminine written all over her. Without one doubt in the world, she knows she’s the hottest piece of ass in this bar, and for some unknown reason, she’s made you her target for the night. Wined and dined you all night without saying more than a sentence to you, and it seems she’s here to collect.��

In the forefront of your mind, you believe it’s to serve some self-serving action to get off from what’s between your thighs, the sweet treat every girl has chased in this long week, but your long-term commitment tying you down like handcuffs to the post of your bed Ellie has kept you in. 

Petrifying you to your bones, you aren’t sure what to make of the thrill building up; you can’t deny the longer you look at her, the more your thighs rub together in sync with the other. 

“So—” With her tall stature, decisively, she steps forward, lips pressing against your ear with her hot breath seeping under your skin, “Are you wet because you know who I am or because you can’t stop looking at my tits?” 

“Who are you?” Your eyebrows quirked up, and you wondered why it was a factor. Was she someone you were supposed to know? Now that she said something, there was something familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. “Why would I have any idea who you are?” 

Though your pussy has a heartbeat and seems to have a mind of its own. You forget about everything else when the woman gives you a toothy grin, which is too perfect. 

“That’s cute, but see, everyone knows who I am—” Abby takes matters into her own hands and begins to nibble on the side of your neck, harshly biting and sucking lightly, taking in the taste of your skin as if she’s trying to find the perfect vein to puncture with her pointy canines. If it were the case, you’d let her suck the life out of you if you got to keep her to yourself for the night. “Don’t worry pretty girl, you’ll know by the end of the night.” 

She’s passionately driven when her skilled lips and velvet tongue continue to make a mark on you as if you are hers to own, hers to please as she sees fit. You don’t even know her name, but the raging storm of lust isolates you within her honey trap. All of it feels too finite, everlasting, even if it’s just solid concrete to stand on for the night. 

Then, you remember Ellie. The longing text sent to you, not even a call. The love of your life, or so you’d always hoped, couldn’t be bothered to call you this entire week. The fallout of an inconceivable aftermath only now did she try to reach out. 

“Tell me why you’re soaking wet, baby girl.” 

You try to push her back, but she doesn’t even move; her frame is too strong. Now, your warm, firm hand places itself on her defined abdomen, pressing against the clearly defined muscles. 

You can’t deny how flushed you’ve become. 

This time you are drooling; her thumb wipes away the liquid before she sucks it back into her mouth. Her grin is even more wicked, knowing she has you right where she wants to be. 

It’s when you notice the mirrored scorpions, one on either side, her muscular biceps littered with tattoos, and the front of her neck — practically having fuck me written all over her. 

You should leave. 

You fucking should. 

She has an appetite for something else, pulling you by the waistband of your pants, her finger securely wrapped around the belt buckle. Pelvis to pelvis, grinding against you swiftly to see how much you move, and the smile she’s wearing is satisfying enough. 

She’s always liked them needy, messy, and so damn right horny they’re putty in her extensive and capable hands. 

“I’m waiting.” Her hunger is evident in her tone. She is ready to relish her sudden craving, at least to you. 

“I-I don’t even know your name,” you confess, hoping it will steer her away from you, but it’s a pathetic attempt. 

“Abby. What else is your concern, babygirl?” Her knee sneaks between your legs, applying pressure to your cunt. 

“I—” Almost with a soft thrust of her knee, Abby pushes against your cunt, damping her leather with a fucking desirable slick she’s dying to taste. Although it’s clear you like the chase, she gives it. 

Had you had sex in the past eight months, you might have pushed away the overly cocky specimen, but it has been that long. Only making the patch in your panties grow as she teases your pussy. 

Abby’s frame blocks anyone from seeing what she’s doing to you, your skirt riding up so much she can see the rounded cheeks slipping out, the black fabric slightly exposed under the bar's dim light. The more she presses, the faster your hips move against her. 

Without a care in the world, you slid so far back, and you’re on her thigh, strong arms wrapped around you, whispering filthy nothings in your ear as you get yourself off on the stranger’s muscular body. If the bartender notices, she doesn’t mind. Pretends like you’re not even there. You’re not sure which is more embarrassing. 

“Fuck, move those hips. Just like that, yeah.” 

The high, the one you’ve wanted from your girlfriend who doesn’t even want to touch you, is so close. There’s a burn in your throat infused by sheer guilt that someone else will bring you to head. Some stranger you don’t know, one handsome stranger, yet when she pushes your panties to the side and thumbs your clit it’s so challenging to care about anyone but yourself. 

You moan her name as she touches you, a skilled touch as she lightly pinches and soothes the sensitive bud. She completely enraptured you with the light touch she had to offer. Terrifyingly so, it shouldn’t affect you the way it does. 

The look in her eyes would have sent you reeling. Her musky scent is already doing enough for you. You find yourself tangled in the webs of honeydew, suckling until you’ve had enough of the sweet sensation. 

You’re just not sure how long it’ll be until you do. 

“God, acting like you haven’t been fucked, baby. Such a dirty slut letting me do….well, whatever I want.” 

Abby uses her free, dominant hand to guide your hips at a pace she sees fit. A thrill shoots down her spine as your incessant need grows like a flower at the dawn of spring—a tiny seed that is useless unless it bears root flourishing from where it’s planted. 

“So, what’s it going to be?” Abby questions. A glimmer of assurance fills her ocean eyes. She was playfully biting your exposed shoulder blade. 

“I can get you off right here, or you can come home with me.” the incredible sensation of her pierced muscling punching your skin with a chill, the stainless-steel ball adds a new sensation you weren’t expecting. She suckles and bites, marking you the more bruises as if she’s decorative for her enjoyment. “Or both. I think someone is close. I bet you’re ready to spill on my thigh. Wanna give me every last drop like the whore you are.” 

“Your home?” you manage to spit out, trying to ignore the filth she spits, but it only brings you closer to your much-needed euphoric bliss. Abby’s efforts double over as if she’s fucked you before, bouncing her leg as as you ride her thigh, knowing exactly what you need to cum all over her. 

Typically, the thread of your orgasm wouldn’t have been so easy to pull, but it seems she’s the one who placed it there in the first place. Months of not being touched left you in the hands of this Greek god who could make you feel whatever you wished for. 

She’s cocky, confident, and the sexiest woman you’ve ever seen. Yet, the answer is still hard to find. 

“Yeah, angel, my place.” You nod, unable to make a verbal confirmation. 

“Gotta hear you say it.” Just then, the feeling that was bubbling spills over and all over her hand as she cups your cunt, thumb continuing to rub at your puffy clit. 

“Yes, Yes, Yes.” you curse, chants of ecstasy fumble from your loose lips. Carelessly, you’re focused on the intense heartbeat between your legs, your body convulsing against her. 

“What's that? M’not sure if I can wear you over your weeping cunt.” Repeatedly, Abby slaps your cunt as punishment. 

“I-I want to, fuck, shit. Oh god, yes. I want to go home with you.” Your body slumps against her as she holds up your weight, and your high fades. Still, you feel blissful against her touch. Any other worry plaguing your mind dissipates, and all you think is her and strong muscles keeping you upright. 

“Good girl,” she whispers before paying off the tab and putting the lace material pack in place. You feel the white liquid stick to you, filthy, resting against you—the once taintless fabric coated with the pleasures of your sin. Dizzy, unsteady, breathless — it’s everything you feel. 

She thrives on knowing you need her. Even if it’s for tonight, the purpose will be served. Regardless of what she needs, this will be even more of a thrill, and the only thing she uses is her hand—not even her dominant one. 

Abby moves your skirt down so your ass is covered again. “C’mon, pretty girl. let’s see how much of a slut you are." She leads you outside while she makes quick work of her phone, and suddenly, there’s a sleek black car, a Cadillac, you assume, with a driver in tow. The windows are tinted enough for you to wonder if it’s even legal. Silver rims, with a diamond emblem in the center shining so bright under the moonlight that it nearly takes your attention from the woman who has you in her grip. 

“Last chance? I can have her drive you home.” She smirks, knowing you won’t take the out that’s being so generously given. Perfect, beautiful, she thinks, eyes still dilated from you getting off on her thing and the continuous swipe of the pad of her thumb. 

It’s there. The smidge of penance you feel you’re obligated to ask for. Regardless of how amazing it feels, there’s something about the ending. This will be the end of all fuck ups; maybe, there’s still hope for the two of you if you go home. Call Ellie in the morning before the need to suppress the shame. 

But don’t you deserve this one thing for yourself? 

Everything under the sun has been for the auburn-haired beauty who has held your heart from the moment she patched up your bleeding knee. The moment a total stranger managed to win your heart, an adolescent love that knew nothing of the lesson of heartbreak or the years you chased after Ellie while she was chasing others. 

How she let her feelings hover over the friendship of years with no consequence, especially after her long-term high school girlfriend, the one whose heart she broke into a tiny million pieces. Tragically, there still stood an existing fear for you. She was just a kid, but would she move on as quickly now as she did back then? It was as if they meant nothing to her, moving from the next one as if the time spent together had been insignificant, meaningless, just an ease to pass the misery of time. 

You feared you would be the same. 

Falling under the same umbrella, but you hope you are different. There were talks of marriage and settling into the countryside once she could retire. A shared dream, you thought. Perhaps it was a foolish sin to keep close to your heart. 

Then there was Abby, a heavenly distraction from all the dread waiting for you. Everything you must pick back up eventually if you want to stay tucked into the nightlife of New York is just your dreams hanging up on the shelf, totting away with the relationship. An expiration date was labeled on the two of you, and an impending doom you could only fall through. 

Everything was always for her. 

Ellie. Ellie. Ellie. 

“What’s it going to be, princess?” She pulled you towards as she spun you around with ease, back pulled to her chest, her lips kissing your ear. All you could focus on was how strong she felt. Her strong hold bending you to her will wouldn’t be a challenge. If she wanted to, she could do whatever she liked. You are sure no isn’t a word she’s used to hearing. 

But it went further than just how she looks. 

It’s in the way she doesn’t even have to lift a finger to have you hooked on her. It entices you, thinking about how long she’d been staring at you all night. The curve of your ass in your tight, little skirt — was she staring at it? Did she think about all the ways she could fuck your perfect little hole if you would let her do everything she’d been thinking of? The way your hardened nipples poked through your mesh top. If she said anything, you could blame it on the draft, not just her sheer presence making them protrude through the fabric. 

She did no work whatsoever to make you cum, letting you use her to get yourself off. There was an ease to it. One you hadn’t experienced before. 

Here she is, using it against you again. 

“Am I coming in the car with you, or will you rub your clit, alone, wishing you’d let me fuck you in all the ways I’ve been dreaming?” Her hands sneak under the lace, pinching your nipples between her thumb and forefinger, enjoying the way your hips buck up, aching to be touched by her again. 

“Just give in, baby. I know you want to.” Her dominant hand abandons your nipple, leaving the other to tease it. While she escapes underneath your skirt once again, “So wet for me already, huh?” Harshly, she grips your cunt, a finger sliding up your slit, but she’s intentional about not letting it slip in. 

“I-I shouldn’t, shit, oh my g—” You try to think of an excuse, one good enough to convince yourself you should not go through with this. “I really shouldn’t.” 

“And?” Abby’s canines dig into the side of your neck as she teasingly bites the flesh, soothing it with a velvet tongue, making more marks on the side she hadn’t touched tonight. “Are you taken?” 

“That’s a complicated question.” Abby grins at your response with a sinister smirk. 

“Well, if she’s not making you happy, let me do it for her.” Abby tilts your jaw, forcing you to gaze at her. 

“Let me guess, no one has touched this perfect pussy in a long time. So, fucking neglected, huh?” 

“I didn’t say I had a—” 

“It doesn’t matter to me.” Your pussy dripping with shame at her words. 

“Yeah, it’s been a while.” You admit. Abby continues to torture you with the split of your slit, the two of you starting to draw attention, but you think it just excites her even more. “I haven’t felt—” 

The moment you say the words, Abby spins you around. You whine at her touch leaving your pussy, but she makes up for it slightly when her hands palm your ass. “Tell me. Look me in my eyes, baby, and tell me what you need. I’ll give you whatever the fuck you want.” 

Your hands weave themselves into her golden locks. You are intertwined with the waves that disguise themselves as shimmering waterfalls. But you look down as you try to think of some excuse to leave and make yourself leave with dignity. 

Big mistake. 

The happy trail, the blonde hair travels inside her pants, leaving you in awe underneath the moonlight. Abby’s leather vest pushed off slightly, her tits still covered with black pasties. 

“Why don’t you take them off? Wanna see my pretty tits, baby?” You nod with too much eagerness. Abby chuckles. 

She watches with a smirk as you take them off. The silver, shining barbell has you moan at the sight of them—the sight of her. Smudged black eyeliner makes her appear even more irresistible, hooded eyes gazing at you; a gentle hand finds your throat, applying pressure with her thumb, constraining your breathing slightly. 

“Fuck, they are perfect.” You confess, your eyes gleaming at her pink nipples exposed before meeting with her eyes once again. 

“Yeah, they are, but they would look even better with your pretty lips around them.” 

She will not give up. 

“This is such a bad idea.” Abby knows your mind is made up, and you’ll come home with her. Even if the guilt swarms like a bee to a honey hive, it’s all the same to her. “But, God, you’re so fucking hot.” 

Your hands roam her toned, tattooed torso, the scorpions so delicious you want to outline every detail with your tongue. The thought of being strong has worn off—only the woman before you is on your mind. 

“Well, to me, it seems you can’t keep your hands to yourself.” Fingertips grazing her tits, her nipple hardening underneath you touch. “I’ll let you do whatever you want after I’m done with you. Well, if you still have the energy.” 

A grumbling of frustration leaves your lips — you aren’t sure if it’s a desperate plea, a sigh of relief, or something else entirely. 

“Like what?” You can’t stop touching her breasts, continuing to tease her pink nipple, but you meet her eyes. Abby’s positive you’ve never seen a smirk so wide. 

“What do you like?” Abby pushes your hair back, fuck me eyes looking up at her. The ones that hadn’t left from the moment you laid eyes on her. She leans down just a little so her lips are pressed against your ear, “Do you wanna fuck my ass? Want me to sit on your gorgeous face while you eat me out? Fuck me in front of the mirror and watch my face when I cum?” 

Grabbing your hair, she yanks it. Exposing the expanse of your neck. She’s grown so fond of marking. The slick between her thighs continued to blossom as you let her do whatever the hell she wanted. Like a whimpering bitch in heat, you took everything she had to offer. 

Fuck it. 

You cradle her face with her palms, smashing her lips to yours. It’s all tongue and teeth. Rough palms squeezing your ass, making you grind into her again. Your force casually lets her stumble into the car but you don’t let up. Whimpering and moaning into her mouth like there’s no tomorrow, as if this moment will slip right through your fingers. 

Her breath smells of fresh mint, her tongue casually dominates yours, staking claim to what she already believes to be hers. It’s then you realize your forever doomed because you feel the fluttering in your stomach as she growls in your mouth, animalistic — your pelvis grinding against her much more defined one. 

You pull apart for one moment, unable to take one more moment away from her. 

If you don’t get it, her tongue, her cunt, those pretty fingers decorated in silver jewelry, hell, you would settle for her pierced nipples rubbing against your clit. 

“Abby?” She stops, opening her eyes to see you. You’re even more fucked out than she is. “Yes, baby?” She hums into your mouth, the sweet sensation vibrating your entire body. 

“Let’s stop giving everyone a show and give me one.” Abby nods, the first sign of her eagerness as she opens the door for you, unable to keep her hands off you. 

“We better go before you soak my car then, hm?” She slaps your ass as she leads you in. 

— 

As she has you in tow, hand in yours leading you towards the elevator in her building, the most luxurious one you’ve seen, one so high you’re sure it’s the highest in the skyline of New York City.

 It isn’t surprising she has her own driver, or she lives in the penthouse of the building, even the plaques decorating the wall — a shrine to her evident success. Everything just…makes sense. Yet there’s a pit in your stomach, crawling and feasting. It's swarming within you, a nagging incessant fly buzzing around warning you to run. You don’t have much time to think about how horrible of an idea this is. 

Alone with someone who could easily overpower you, at the mercy of a complete stranger yet when she puts her arms around your waist, all of it seems to melt away. She’s given you no reason not to trust her. You’re just thinking too much. 

That’s all it is. 

The little voice chants in your head, trying to make excuses for yourself as to not go through with this but they dissipate when her calloused palms find home on your waist. Soothing over your delicate skin, enticing you into her impenetrable web. Everything about her intoxicates you. Making every thought vacant your head, even more so when she starts playing with the hem of your skirt. 

“Let me get you a drink.” She kisses your temple before going behind the makeshift bar in the dining room. An assortment of every liquor component known behind her. Part of you thinks she’s doing it for show, the way her biceps flex as she shakes the drink in the silver canister, pointingly making the drink you’d been ordering all night long. 

So, she had been watching you all night. You knew if she wasn’t as hot as she is, you’d be creeped out. But it’s hard to be creeped out when she’s still shirtless, the black leather vest doing very little to cover her. Any time she moves you see her pink pierced nipples, nearly making you salivate. 

With the Mexican martini in her grip, with her own in the other, you’re stuck. You didn’t think she’d actually want to have a conversation with you. Leading you out to the balcony, almost the entire view of the city before your very eyes, practically causing you to freeze in your footsteps. 

“Wow.” Unable to conceal it, you voice your immediate awe. Abby chuckles, the first sign of sincerity you’ve seen all night. Everything else only seemed as a woman trying to get a needed fuck but right now but she hasn’t even tried to even so much as kiss you. Taking small sips of her whiskey, hip touching yours as the moonlight reflects from the water to her blue eyes, nearly as vivid as the moon itself. 

“Yeah, it’s quite a view, think it’s the only thing keeping me coming back here. I’m on the road so much, it’s nice to have some stability.” Abby smiles softly, the confession tumbling from her lips before she can catch it. ”A pretty penny for me to keep it but it’s worth it.” 

“Is this your move then?” You know the martini is doing the talking for you, if not you’d be a mumbling mess unable to form one sentence that even sounds remotely coherent. Abby quirks one of her blonde eyebrows upwards but keeps her mouth shut, waiting for you to continue. “Is this what you do with everyone?” 

Abby takes a step closer to you, giving you all her attention. She plays with the chain on your neck, pulling it lightly to bring you closer to her. Carefully eyeing you up and down, smirking as she does, “Do you want the truth or do you want me to lie like I do with everyone else?” 

It’s more than you expected her to offer. A careless lie would have suited her more. If there is one thing you know for sure, Abby could get anyone she wants and she wouldn’t have brought you here if she didn’t want you to be here. 

“Are you capable of the truth? M’not sure you are.” For once, Abby is a bit silent. Carefully, she contemplates on what to say next. She isn’t sure what she should say. Usually she’s the one laying the honey traps for the swarming bees but right now? Abby feels like the control is slipping from her grip. 

She can’t have that. 

“Which one is going to make that guilt easier on your conscience?” Abby smirks as the shame fills your eyes. “It’s a girlfriend, isn’t it? It always is.” Anyone else would take two steps back, maybe even see themselves out but you want to prove a point. 

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” The immediate rejection of your very real girlfriend fills you with even more shame than you know what to do with. Abby chuckles at the omission, the way your voice shrieks out the statement with a sense of urgency. A desperate action to cover the truth. “Sure you don’t.” 

“I’m telling the truth!” Your voice raises as you lean into Abby, her firm hands on your waist as you both face each other. Abby nods, tongue poking through her cheek, pulling at your necklace once again. Admiring the curve in the E, the gold chain shining. It’s a pretty necklace, probably one your girlfriend gave you but Abby makes no comment of it. 

“Yeah, okay, and I hate pussy.” Abby giggles. You think it’s so cute, it shouldn’t even be funny, but it is. Just like earlier in the night, you’re so close to her, nothing as slim as a sheet of paper could fit in between the two of you. Without even thinking about it, you rest your hand on her abdomen again, her strength tangible as you feel her up once again. Truly, you’re unable to stop touching her. Every part of you wants this to happen, even if it comes back to bite you in the ass, the curiosity and your fluttering cunt can’t really think of anything else. 

“You can still walk out that door. Just say the word and my driver will take you home.” Abby whispers into the busy street beneath you, it’s so faint from the distance but the two of you can hear it. “Or you can let me slide your pretty little skirt up and let me make a slut of you, babygirl.” 

Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it’s your throbbing clit, maybe it’s the lack of contact in months, most of all maybe it’s the fact Ellie took so long to reach out, but you give in. Throwing your arms around her neck, pulling her lips to yours, regardless of the possible consequence looming after you, threatening to tear apart the picture perfect life you thought you’re living. 

All of it happens in a blink of an eye. Abby’s tongue staking claim, dominating in ways you didn’t know were possible before she’s pushing your front against the balcony, placing your hand on the railing. With ease, she maneuvers your body in just the way she wants. “Gotta tell me yes pretty girl, that’s the only way this is going to start.” 

Facing the view, the buzzing city filled with nightlife and wonder, endless possibilities on your fingertips but you’re thinking about her hands. How much you want them inside you, fucking you full, or the strap in her pants you’d be rubbing against earlier. The thoughts of her slipping her cock inside you, claiming you in a way no one has in awhile. Making you feel wanted, needed, even if it was a fleeting feeling just for the night. You deserve it. Just one, stupid, decision — you were owed at least one. 

“Yes, s’what I want. You.” That’s all it takes before Abby pushes your skirt to your waist, sliding off your panties as she allows you to step out of them. 

“Are you sure?” Abby questions you. She pushes off from you, you hear her zipper being brought down as you look back at her, her vest being chucked to the lawn chair by the pool. 

Fuck. 

If she’s even half as good as she’s claiming to be, you are so fucked. 

“I’m sure.” 

Abby wraps her hands around your waist again, hands dipping under your shirt as she squeezes your breasts, teasing your hard nipples with her fingers. You sigh instantly, loving the stimulation she’s providing. You feel the barrel of her tongue piercing as she lightly sucks behind the sweet spot behind your ear, as if Abby's the one to place it there in the first place. 

“Good.” Abby teases your entrance with her cock, your body shuddering as it slides over your folds, using your slick as lubricant. Already, you’re grinding against her, just like before as she guides your hips in the pace she likes. “Do you like getting off on my cock, baby?” 

“Mhm, yeah, I do.” It’s all but a whisper. Abby still hears you speak, slapping your ass playfully, blunt fingers digging into the skin. She can’t believe anyone not wanting to touch you, not wanting to make you feel good. You’re the hottest person she’s ever fucking seen. Your ass, your tits, the moans spilling from your mouth, it’s been in her filthiest dreams. 

“What about now?” Abby lets her cock slip inside you, stretching out your walls as you take everything she has to offer. It’s been so long since you’ve been filled like this, your cunt greedily taking every inch has she slides in further and further. With a tight grip, you hold onto the railing as she thrust with her strong hips forward, your back arching so deep as she places her hand on your lower back, forcing the bend. 

“Oh…” Abby grins at your desperate moans, “You really do know how to be a good girl and take it.” Her name falls from your lips like a stuttering prayer, as if she’s the god you’re praising at the altar. With each thrust, Abby back more of her strength into, packing a powerful punch to your cunt. Pulling at the strings, already making you see stars as you take from the angle. 

“Fuck!” With no warning, Abby pulls at your hair, your body conforming to her will. She could do as she pleased and you would let her. You wonder if you even had a chance or if this is what was meant to be. Her speed grows rapidly, your stomach doing flips as she penetrates you, fucking you until you’re irrevocably spent. 

“See? You’re just a whore. My whore. Got you cock drunk for me. Don’t I?” Abby thumbs with your clit, making you see stars. Lost in the effortlessness of her actions, calloused fingers playing you like her drums set. With ease, from memory she pulled out a performance, just like she did at every show, aiming to please her audience. 

“Do you—” Abby draws circles on your puffy clit, your growl as you attempt to push through your words. “Shit, I’m—” 

“Hm?” You hear it, the sound of your cunt being fucked blending into the busy street, her hands pulling you on her cock over and over. “Didn’t think I’d take it easy on you now, did you?” 

“I just didn’t think you’d actually feel this good.” With one particular hard thrust, Abby has your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Your body begins to shake at her ministrations. 

“We’re just getting started but I wanna see that gorgeous face.” She pulls out of you as she sits on the nearest lawn chair, “Hop back on, babygirl, s’all yours to use.” You remove the rest of your clothes, the E chain the only thing adorning your body. 

Messily, Abby spits on her large palm, mixing your slick coating her cock making sure she’d be nice and ready for you to slide right back on. You grip her soft, freckled shoulders as she helps guide you, her blue eyes darkening as she sees the bliss written all over your face. Sinking on her cock is a sight Abby wants to replay in her mind, the high pitched moan that releases from your body is food for her soul. 

“Fuck yourself on me, babygirl. Mhm, show me how much you need it.” You lean her forehead against yours, look in her beautiful blues, feeling a strange sense of intimacy as she fucks hours brains out. Abby likes the fact you have no idea who she is but you’re riding her like no tomorrow. 

When you start bouncing on her cock, Abby loses all coherent thought. Your not so subtle bounce of your tits, she loves them so much she cranes her neck to suck on your nipples, her tongue piercing adding a new sensation, unable to stop your pussy from gushing around her. 

“Does your girlfriend fuck you like this? Mhm, I don’t think so. My sweet babygirl, so frustrated, and all you need is some good fucking cock, huh?” 

“All I need is you.” Abby thrusts her hips into you, her heavily ring hand slips her pinky ring off, the shimmering gold is placed on your clit, your body jerking from someone so cold on your throbbing bundle of nerves. 

“Since you can’t feel the little ball on my tongue right now, I suppose this will have to do.” 

“Is that so, baby? Need me?” Abby glances over your shoulder before looking back at you, before she continuously meets the roll of your hips with her thrusts. “Dirty fucking slut, so horny for your cunt to be fucked properly. It’s why you came out tonight, why you got off on my thigh at the bar, why you couldn’t stop looking at me, s’why your hands have been over me all fucking night.” 

“Abby, shit, keep talking like that.” 

“Hm, you like when I call you my dirty slut? When I tell you how needy you are for me? Bet you would have let me bend you over the bar and fucked you right there.” You’re groaning, you scream her name so loudly, Abby can’t help but grin with a sinister smirk. 

“Yes, would let you do anything.” Abby hums approvingly, the cool sensation of her diamond encrusted ring doing wonders to bring you over the edge, “Please, don’t stop. Don’t ever—” 

One particular hard thrust has Abby wrapping an arm around your waist, holding you up as your body nearly becomes deadweight, her head making home on your shoulder. It’s when she steps into the light, met with Abby’s darkness. The night she had perfectly curated to fully benefit her, the strategic planning of a rotten apple, split right down the middle when push came to shove. 

— 

Three Months Prior…

“You said you would tell her.” The frustration written all over Abby’s face, her voice only raising an octave higher. Abby has never been so disgusted with herself, stopping so low, thinking she would get chosen over the long term girlfriend. 

Stupid. 

“I know what I said. I’m telling you, I can’t.” Ellie pinches the bridge of her button nose, trying to concentrate as Abby makes no move to do anything else but continue to fuck Ellie’s cunt. 

“Oh no?” Abby slips a third finger in her pussy as she shoves her face between her slender thighs. “You don’t wanna tell her why you won’t fuck her anymore? All the light night calls with your manager are flights to come to my penthouse and get your pussy fucked out?” 

Her tongue dips into Ellie’s pussy, she flattens her pierced tongue, the cool golden ball adding stimulation to the weeping woman’s clit, her body jerking at the action. “She’s too fucking good for you.” The speed of the bigger girl’s fingers send Ellie into godspeed, flirting with another dimension as she allows Abby to play tricks on her pussy. 

The reason she comes back, no one makes her cum like she does, not even you. Abby wants more but Ellie refuses to give it, not willing to leave you even if you know what she’s been doing, all the lies she’s told in order to fuck Abby, you’d never look her way again. “She can't do this though? It’s why you keep coming back, you need my fingers stuffed in your pussy.” Abby’s fingers are reaching so deep, kissing Ellie’s cervix as she grips onto her wrist, bucking her hips up into the rockstar’s fingers. 

“Maybe I should give them to her instead. I’m sure she would be more grateful.” Abby spits sloppily on Ellie’s pussy, kitten licking her clit until she sucks it in her mouth, tongue rapidly flicking over her bundle of nerves. Abby tsks, “Selfish slut, cum on daddy’s tongue like you fucking mean it.” 

Like the greedy whore she is, Ellie squirts into Abby’s mouth and the blonde doesn’t waste a single moment, she slurps obnoxiously on Ellie’s cunt. “Fucking whore.” Her tongue flattens as he licks from her puckered hole to her clit, every drop dispersing into mouth. 

Ellie’s entire body shakes, barely registering when Ellie throws on a robe, leaving it open and she lights up a cigarette on the balcony of her bedroom. Ellie whines for Abby. 

“This was the last time.” With a flip of a switch, Abby’s tone changes, her cunt with her blonde pubes making her pussy appear even more irresistible, all she wanted was to get on her knees for Abby, repay the favor but the stoic look on her face tells her she won’t be getting anywhere near her tonight. 

She exhales a puff of smoke, her sun kissed skin reflecting off the moonlight, every defined line of muscle making her even more beautiful. “But why? Did you suddenly grow a conscience?” 

“No but I’m not interested in being someone’s side piece. I’m the main fucking show.” Abby shrugs her shoulders matter of factly, “Show yourself out, Williams.” 

— 

The memory flashes before Abby’s eyes, she’s sure it’s crossing Ellie’s mind, her worst nightmare playing in front of her. Her girlfriend, screaming her mistress’s name, as she clings onto Abby like a second life line. The look of horror in her emerald eyes, she would know your body everywhere, it’s you. 

“All mine, my pretty pussy baby, m’babygirl gonna cum soon? yeah? can you do that for me?” Every word spoken was salt in the wound, smearing in as Ellie stood frozen still. The text was deliberately sent tonight for her own demise. Using Ellie’s needy nature against her, but it seems someone else was quite needy, but fuck was she prettier. 

Ellie is a fucking idiot, Abby thought. 

Knowing how much she loved it, Abby brought her finger to her mouth, sucking on the digit, then she teases your puckered hole and you’re begging to convulse. Letting yourself be held by Abby, but your hips don’t stop moving. 

No. 

You’re fucking yourself even harder on her. 

“Mommy, please? Make me cum, fuck, need to cum all over your cock. Gonna dump her for you, please. I’ll do anything you want, just don’t stop, don’t ever stop.” With her finger only slightly slipping into your ass, you see pull on her golden waves, allowing yourself to slip into the hold of rotten intentions. Ellie has seen enough as she slams the door on her way out but you’re too fucked out to even clock it. 

“Good girl. Let it go. Mommy’s got you. Mhm, give it all to me, baby.” When she’s don’t fucking you into another dimension, Abby lays back on the chair, feeling quite satisfied with her successful plot of revenge. 

Even better, she has you. 

You fall on top of her, still stuffed full, when she finds sucking on her nipples. Your tongue toying with the barbell, pushing and pulling as Abby takes a sharp intake of breath. 

“Sorry, I've been wanting to do that all night.” You giggle lightly, Abby drawing random patterns on your exposed back. She doesn’t feel an ounce of guilt as she lets you suck on her tits, marking her porcelain skin. You’re already more of a giver than Ellie, she smiles at the thought. 

“Don’t have to apologize. Never going to say no to a beautiful girl sucking my tits.” 

She’s entirely mesmerized by you, in ways she hasn’t been before. Truthfully, she almost came from seeing you cum. Never in her life has someone brought her so close without having her pussy in their mouth. “Do you want the driver to take you home or do you want to go for round two? I’d like to fuck you on my bed, feel your dripping cunt on mine, make you forget about that pathetic girlfriend of yours.” 

You forget she’s still inside you because you sit up fully and you’re moaning, again. 

“I’d like that but let me give you another ride, yeah?” 

Unbeknownst to you, the rotten apple lays beneath you, the same E chain hidden beneath the countless chains adorning her neck but sometimes they can taste just as divine as the sweet one. Sour or sweet? That’s for you to decide. 

Bloody, intentional, reckless — Abby Anderson has brought it all. 

Showing Ellie just how sweet something rotten could really be if preserved for someone else.

reblogs and extra thots are appreciated! hope you enjoyed ♡

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