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#she tries so hard to be good for him when all she wants is to make everyone else acknowledge the claim she has over every breath
cherry-leclerc · 1 day
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we never talk about it ☆ op81
genre: humor, angst, yearning, massive crushes, and lots and lots of miscommunication, assistant!reader
word count: 11k
It's unwise—longing for someone like Oscar. While he's the epitome of someone anyone can easily fall in love with, you're the epitome of a devoted girl who will fall in love with him. You might not even care too much about all the heartbreak you endure along the way.
inspired by this !
cherry here!... based on real events.
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Do you remember the day we first met?
The wind doesn’t do its job in blocking him out, the way you prayed and wished it would. You’re still able to catch the crack in his voice—a distant reminder of the way it once made you giggle. Even his nose is beet red, matching the Christmas lights. But apart from all that, you still hear him. You still see him. 
You always have.
“A little bit. Yeah.”
He flinches, then tries to play it off with a soft smile. Like he doesn’t want you to uncover the slight hurt he feels. But he can’t read your mind. He never could. And that was the problem.
Oscar nods, feigning indifference. “I do. Remember it all, I mean.  Think back to it quite often."
-
It’s utterly useless to try and ignore him, really.
His hair is too fluffy, his eyes are too bright, and his accent is making you want to flaunt the way some loony character would with a hand over their heart. It was honestly a tad bit demeaning.
But you can't help it. You admire the way his brown locks fall in a lousy manner when he towers down to sign the contract. You blush when his eyes get that twinkle in them. And you swoon over almost anything he says with a shy smile.
“You’re drooling.”
Mortified, you briskly run the back of your hand against your mouth before sending a harsh glare. Lando snickers. “Would you please stop?”
His jaw drops, theatrically. “You’re not actually into him—are you?”
He says it with a trace of humor, but also shock, and you can't help but have your mouth run dry. A loose grin starts to expand across his lips as you hurriedly shake your head. “O-of course not. Are you crazy?”
But if anything, you feel crazy. You must be, right? With every passing second of your heart beating faster and faster against your chest simply just by looking at the young Australian, you’re sure you fall straight into the category like some love fool.
Lando squints his eyes. “I don’t know.” He leans in straight into your face, nearly hissing. “Am I?”
“Am I interrupting?” 
Flinching hard, you turn quickly to face Anastasia. You’d initially met the black haired girl back in 2019. As you started off as the Brits personal assistant, she took over as Carlos’ and later also Daniel’s. Over the course of time, you two came to be as close as sisters. 
“No! Not at all,” you squeak, nervously before pushing the McLaren driver away and patting towards the open chair next to you. She giggles, rolling her eyes and adjusting herself. “How was the flight over?”
A shrug. “As good as it can get. Sat next to a silver fox, so I guess that must count for something, no?” Lando shudders. She leans in closer, plopping her head against your shoulder. “What’d I miss?”
“Not much.” Only, that’s not true. She missed the way he laughed awkwardly when the doors wouldn’t slide open and let him into the headquarters. She missed the way he rolled his R’s a little too hard when saying ‘sorry’. She missed the way he grabbed the pen with a certain glow on his face, like he almost couldn’t believe any of this was happening. Lazy fingers pat her head gently once before sighing. “He seems nice.”
“How do you know?”
You know because of the way he talks to everyone. Like he cares about what they have to say. Whether it’s about how great his career is going to be here in McLaren or if they introduce their kids to him via FaceTime. He always wore the same smile, talked in the same warm tone. So, could your guess be far off? Yes. It could be completely far off. But you would bet money that it wasn’t. 
“Just a wild hypothesis.”
Her laugh isn’t too loud, not ridiculously so, at least, but the fact that it echoes is what makes it appear as such. Anastasia is quick to slap her hand over her mouth, the Brit turns fast to face her with panic evident in his eyes, and you simply blink with a shade of red slowly creeping towards your cheekbones. 
Zak grins. “You three.”
“Oh, we’re out,” Lando mumbles in monotone, already grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the exit. You follow numbly, like you don’t have any strength left in your body. 
“You’re leaving me?” Anastasia hisses.
“She’s my assistant,” he says like a matter-of-fact. “Where I go, she goes.”
“Oh, you Judas—”
“All of you,” Zak clarifies, narrowing his eyes over to you and the Brit. You gulp.
With a soft curse, Anastasia stands up, tall and firm, and makes her way over with all the confidence in the world. You frown, craving to be the same way, even just a small percentage. Instead, you have to be forced by the McLaren driver. 
With every step, your head just spins faster because now, he’s more than real. You can smell his cologne. You can count all the moles that cover his face if you really wanted to. You can spot how his hair is still a bit wet, indicating an early shower. 
He’s just becoming— too real. 
“Lando, buddy, meet your new teammate!”
“Nice to meet you,” the blue eyed boy declares with a loopy grin, letting go of your hand in order to shake his. 
“Likewise.”
Zak claps once. “Oh! And meet your personal assistant, Anastasia.”
“Here for anything you might need,” she cheers with a bright smile.
“Fantastic.”
A wave of silence overlaps your four before Lando clears his throat. “And even though you might not be working with her one-on-one, this is my Anastasia.” A snicker. “My assistant, if you will.”
“Nice to meet you—”
“Nice to meet you—”
You both freeze, hands intertwined for a second longer before abruptly letting go. He lets out a dry laugh while you do the same. The way your skin tingles makes you blush. 
“This is fun and all, but we actually have somewhere to be,” the Brit claims with a suspicious look slashed across his usual laid back expression. You nod. “But we’ll see each other soon, man. Can’t wait to race together!”
In a flash, you two are out the door, leaving a dumbfounded Oscar blinking slowly.
-
“He fucks with you.”
“Excuse me?”
Another bench press. “As in, he likes you. He’s into you.”
You don’t dare ask who he is because you already know who the Brit’s referring to and that would only inflate your ego. Snapping your fingers, you narrow your eyes. “Focus. Two more sets left to go.” He groans, flipping you off.
It would be a lie to say that this didn’t make your self-esteem skyrocket. Could he be right? Could someone like Oscar ever lay eyes on you? Somewhere in your dreams, you’d like to say yes. Yes. That is a possibility. But the longer you think about it, the more unrealistic it gets.
You don’t have what others do. And that itself is enough to pop the bubble. 
-
The start of the season is always tough. 
“He’s extremely nervous.”
For some more than others.
You frown. “Really? But he’s usually so…relaxed.”
Anastasia shrugs, hair falling over her shoulder as she continues typing. “I mean, I tried talking to him but with everything I said, he’d just reply—'that's nice’. It was sarcastic, if anything. I would have laughed if I didn’t feel for him. Poor boy.” Her fingers freeze mid-air. “Wait—do you think you could talk to him?”
“I’m not sure that’s a great idea—”
“Come on! Maybe it’ll help him ease his nerves!”
“Ana—”
“Please.”
You huff. “Okay. Fine. Yeah. I’ll see what I can do.”
As soon as you knock, you almost want to turn away. Maybe it was all an exaggeration. Plus, it’s not like he’s going to die from having butterflies in his stomach. Yeah, surely he’ll be fine and he doesn’t really even need you to—
“Come in.”
He wasn't expecting you, that much you can tell by the way his brows go up. But he’s quick to erase the confusion, settling with a fond expression. “Hey.”
“Hi,” you squeak before cringing at the sound. He chuckles, returning to his warm-up exercises. “How are you feeling?”
Another chuckle, this time amused. “Anastasia sent you, didn’t she?”
“What?” A beat. “No.”
He hums. “Tsk. I’m a bit nervous, that's all.”
You lick your lips, kicking your foot up against the doorframe. What could you possibly say that she hasn’t already? If she couldn’t ease him, then how can you? The thought of messing up and making it worse makes your stomach churn. 
“You’re going to do g—”
“Great?” He sighs, blowing his cheeks. “That’s exactly what she said.”
“And what’s wrong with it? She’s only trying to help.”
“No. I know she is, but…” He looks down onto his lap, pausing all movements. “Look, I appreciate you both. What you’re trying to do for me, but I can’t stand hearing what others think I want to hear.”
“It doesn’t do it for you?”
His eyes grow slightly wide with the way you go about and ask. He’s never seen you be anything other than sweet and reserved. But this—right now—is stern and very coach-like. Something and someone you aren’t. Not even close.
“It doesn’t,” he admits, finally looking away. “Never liked it. Always sounds too forced.”
You nod, crossing your arms. “Fine. I can tell you the truth. I can be truthful.” He perks. “Oscar, you’re a terrific driver.” He groans, covering his face with his hands. “But just because you’re great doesn’t mean you’ll be great all the time.” The Australian frowns, uncovering and looking up at you with attentive eyes. “You’re going to mess up. You’re going to be second, or third, or sometimes even twentieth, but that doesn’t matter, you know why?”
“Why?”
“Because you signed that contract, so you sort of have to suck it up, either way.” He lets out a loud laugh. Very unlike him. A weak smile threatens to fall as you try your best to push it back. “There’s going to be bad races, but there’s also going to be very good races. It all depends on you and how hard you work. Sometimes you’ll have a good car, a good strat, and others you’ll have a shitbox and a bad strat. That’s just the way this sport works, okay?”
Oscar blinks slowly, as if trying to decipher who you are, and that itself makes you dizzy. “I-I-I don’t care if you’re nervous, I don’t care if you’re sure—all we care is that you drive that car, and that you try your best no matter what. Can you do that?”
It’s foreign. The feeling in his chest. He’s not used to hearing any of this. As of recently, everyones been texting him to say how great he’s going to be. How far he’ll go. And while he was grateful for having unconditional support, he also dreaded hearing it sometimes because he doesn’t even want to picture letting any of  them down. He’ll act like he’s fine, he’ll act like he doesn’t care—but none of that would be true.
The brunette tilts his head to the side, slightly squinting. “I can. I can always try my best. Even if I fall short.”
“Good.” A beat. “We all believe in you. No matter what, okay?”
A timid smile. “I know…”
He ends up having to retire the car by lap fifteen, but the most astonishing part is that he’s not even upset. He tried his best. He listened to every single advice his engineer would alert him with. He practiced long hours in the stimulator.
This is just the way things go sometimes. Just like you said.
-
“I’m bored. Can I get a ten minute break or something?” Lando grimaces, rolling his wrist like it's the worst pain in the world. 
You hum, fixing the signed hats back into the box. With eyes screwed, you shrug. “Fine. But only ten! I’m serious. We need to have this done by one.”
“Yes! Ten—got it.”
He doesn’t come back in ten. For the matter, he actually goes missing. 
You narrow your eyes towards the clock, watching as it clicks like some mockery. You’re going to strangle him. You vow at that very moment that you’ll strangle the Brit as soon as you lay hands on him. With one final huff of desperation, you stand up, rubbing your eyes. People frolic through the paddock—you’re sure you even catch a glimpse of Lewis being papped—but that’s not what catches all of your attention. 
Instead, you find yourself leaning against the rail, squinting down to where the man of the hour sits, microphones huddled all around him like some interrogation. Anastasia smiles politely, back straight, and voice-recorder in hand. 
It’s faint—you almost can’t hear a thing—but it’s just enough. 
How does it feel to be back home? Enjoying it, no?
Oscar hums, straight brows slightly furrowed due to the bright sun, but just one adjustment of his hat makes that all go away. “Feels good. I’m able to sleep in my own bed, so that’s pretty cool. And yes. It may be a bit biased, but I am enjoying my time here more than the last two races.” Everyone chuckles. 
Can we talk about your expectations for this weekend? 
You can see him pause, and from where you’re standing, the way his fingers drum against his chair. “Well, I, uh…I hope for a good car.” The joke is supposed to be there, but you can tell everyone was expecting more with the way they murmur to one another. You wince.
Will raises the microphone up to his lips, along with his hand in order to catch the brunette’s attention. “I’m sure there’s been lots of people reaching out to you since this is your first home race, but has there been someone’s advice that has stuck like no other?”
Oscar smiles gently. “There has been, actually.”
You freeze, gripping the steel bar with anticipation. Your knuckles nearly feel like they’re about to snap, and you feel like you’re probably leaning a bit too far over the edge to hear it all, but you don’t even care. Will chuckles. “If it’s not too much to ask, would you mind sharing with us all? I’m sure it’ll help a lot of youngsters watching.”
Anastasia slides the recorder closer. Oscar visibly swallows. “I’m not sure I can. I never asked her for permission to talk about it. And quite frankly, I’d like to keep it between us.”
Will perks up. “Her?”
The black-haired girl is quick to whisper into his ear, turning the opposite way so no one can even attempt to read her lips. He nods, eyes trained forward like some guard. “Any more questions?” But everyone’s intrigued at this point, so all the questions that follow remain the same. Something that makes Anastasia panic and Oscar regret his choice of words. 
“Can we get a name?” some blurts out, nearly seeming desperate to get the inside scoop.
Only, his face remains still, jaw slacked. “No.”
Will raises his hand. “Very well, we don’t have any right to know, but are you willing to share a bit about what she said?”
And it’s almost as if the Australian can foresee that the only way to get out of this situation is by giving them what they want. Even if it’s a stupid little crumb. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “She told me to try my best. That’s all I can really do.”
The mix of photographers and journalists deflate. “I-I’m sorry,” Lawrence Barretto slides in with a light tone and an ever lighter smile. “Don’t mean to lessen its meaning, but isn’t that a common thing to say? To hear?” An awkward laugh. “I mean, I just thought it’d be something a bit more…deep. Inspiring, perhaps.”
Blood rushes to your cheeks and you’re grateful to whatever God may exist that you’re not down there. On the other hand, Oscar is a bit bothered by the innocent comment, but then realizes he doesn't have to be. They weren’t there. They don’t know just how much more you said. How upfront you were with him without sounding condescending. Something most people did without even realizing. 
The brown eyed boy spares a smile. “Like I said—some things I’d like to keep between her and I. And even if it was just that, it’s the way she said it.” A beat. “It’s quite a lavish thing to have. A sincere person to talk to, I mean.”
Will tilts his head suspiciously. “It appears she might be someone special to you, yes?”
The Australian freezes at the unwanted interpretation. Suddenly, the atmosphere is far too crowded. He lets out a forced chuckle, rolling his neck before messaging it gently. “Well, yes. I’d agree.” 
A mix of giddiness and shock rushes through your veins as you refrain yourself from jumping up and down with excitement. 
“You’d be lucky if you had her as a friend too.”
-
“Is everything okay?”
Biting down on the churro he had gifted you as an apology for not getting back on time, you growl. “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”
Lando raises a thick brow. “Dunno. Maybe the fact that you’re moping.”
Your jaw goes slack, immediately turning to face him. “I am not moping.”
The sound he lets out indicates he doesn’t quite believe you, but is choosing to let it go. Also, he doesn’t want to see your patience run out, too scared of what you might do. The curly haired driver plops down onto his bed that stands in his motorhome, closing his eyes. You nearly envy the indifference in him. The lack of worry. 
“I can hear your teeth clenching. Gross.”
A grunt. “I’m gonna go grab a coffee. Need anything?”
“Only a nap. It’s a good thing you’ll be gone.” He turns over to his side, bringing your jacket over his face to block out any light. You bite the air, swinging silently for a minute or two before exiting the cramped room. 
The sun hurts, you remember thinking, but the upcoming migraine you’re getting is even worse. You should be used to this by now, given you’ve suffered from them since elementary, but based on the way you zig zag without meaning to is enough proof to know that you’re not. Everyone's voices are suddenly muffled, even the sound of engines roaring is as soft as a feather. You wince, massaging your temples as if that might help. 
Woah, are you feeling alright? 
“I’m fine,” you respond meekly, to who even knows. You wave them off rudely. “I’ll be fine. Just. Leave me alone.” 
Anastasia frowns, all while fanning your face. “No. You need to lay down.” She nudges the Australian, who up until now, you had no clue he had his arm clung around your waist. If you weren’t too busy feeling like shit, you’d definitely be making a fool out of yourself. Her green eyes fill up with worry. “I’m gonna go look for a paramedic.”
“You’re doing too much,” you slur, body letting loose and making the brunette shriek as he grips you harder, trying to keep you upright. 
A deadpan expression. “Oscar, take her back to your motorhome and have her lay down.”
He nods, hesitantly. “Y-yeah, okay. Okay.” Once she runs off like a headless chicken, you let out a dramatic gag. Sharp brows knit together with horror. “Do I smell bad?”
A giggle. “No. As a matter of fact, you smell rich.”
With his arm still wrapped around you securely, and warm eyes flickering from to you back to see where he’s heading, he grins, eyes crinkling. “Rich? That just so happens to have a scent?”
You purse your lips, wincing at the fact that your peripheral vision has gone completely dark. “Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I’m a terrific liar and I’m only stroking your ego for my benefit.”
Another chuckle. “Benefit? What benefit may that be?”
Tsk. “How else am I gonna get you to take me to bed?”
The Australian instantly chokes hard on a string of his own saliva, causing you to flinch at the loud sound. Loud to you, at least. He apologizes, but not before taking a glance down, like it’s the first time meeting you. 
As soon as you lay down on the miniature mattress, you release a groan. Even just having your eyes closed makes you dizzy. You let out a loud groan, kicking your feet against the cushion in desperation.
“That bad?”
“That annoying.”
And even though you can’t see him, he nods, internally freaking out, trying to think of ways to help. “Does this happen to you often?”
“Yes.”
He nods, sheepishly. “W-what do you normally do? You know? To help?”
Tossing over to lay on your side, you pinch your eyes, grinding your molars. For a minute, you sort of thought your teeth might crack. Everything about this situation was becoming unbearable. “My mom, she, um…she’d normally braid my hair. It helped sometimes. Others it didn’t.” Messy hair dangles over your face as you let you out a loud exhale, as if you were in the middle of releasing some demon. “I moved too much, she said.”
Oscar smiles, coming across like a faint memory locked in the back of your mind. “I-I-I can try…” Loopy eyes flicker up to face him, and he’s quick to scrunch his nose. The sight alone makes you breathe easier, though he doesn’t know that. Of course he doesn’t. “Only if you want me to…”
“You know how?”
“Sort of? When I was younger, I used to sit across from my sisters at the breakfast table. I was bound to learn a thing or two.”
The subtle proud smile makes your heart beat flutter, smitten at the insight to his childhood. You wish you knew more. Like what was his favorite show? Did he have any imaginary friends, just like you did? Or maybe his favorite superhero? But you swallow all those questions down your throat as soon as he kneels down next to you. The whiff of soft musk distinctively adds to your headache, but you’re too focused on him for something as dumb as that to matter. 
“Just…close your eyes.”
Taking one last glance at him, you comply, lashes fanning slowly before going completely dark. You can still hear him adjusting, you can feel him take your hair into his hands, but nothing makes you stop breathing like his touch that grazes your cheek. 
It’s almost ghostlike—doesn’t really stay on the same spot for too long—but you know it’s real. Long fingers calmly push strands of hair behind your ear, tranquility expanding over your body. The slight tickle it causes helps ease your pounding migraine, little by little. 
“Are my hands too cold?” he whispers, not trying to intrude, but at the same time, wanting to know. You twist, bottom lip jutting out. Not at all. Keep going. And he does. He ends up tangling your hair a bit, because as it turns out, he doesn’t remember much, but he’s sure to delicately fix his mess, brows drawn in with heavy concentration. 
As soon as your hair is back to flowing free, he relaxes, wincing a bit at the pain in his knees. Your hair feels soft. Just what he would imagine a cloud would feel like. For a second, he begins to wonder, who’s this really for? He feels like this might be soothing him more than you. 
Just then, his finger catches on a knot, and he freezes, stopping all movements. “Holy crap, I am so sorry, I—”
You let out a low whimper, but don’t do so much as bat an eye. You’re sound asleep. The brunette lets out a breath of relief, falling back to sit on the ground. 
Your face is a bit squashed—and you’re drooling just a tad bit—but for some odd reason, he finds himself admiring. You’re full lips. You’re lashes. God, even the way you breathe. He feels a tender smile itching, but it never truly gets to see the light of day, because before he knows it, the door is swung wide open. 
Anastasia stops dead in her tracks. “What happe—is she asleep?”
Oscar opens his mouth, then snaps it shut. He does this a couple of times, awkwardly turning to face you and his assistant, back and forth, back and forth. “She, um…just did. A minute ago.”
She pouts, scratching her head. “Weird. Usually when this happens it prolongs for at least ten minutes before it gets any better.” The green eyed girl sheepishly waves the group of paramedics away. A trail of sighs echo as they turn away. As soon as they’re gone, she gently shuts the door, then tippy toes towards the edge of the small bed. Neat brows furrow. “At least she’s feeling better, no?”
Brown eyes follow her gaze. “Yeah. At least.”
-
Lando ends up throwing—and according to him— “The World’s Coolest Jamboree”. You beg for him to call it anything but jamboree, but he’s too attached to it by the time he sends the last text invite, which so happens to be to the rookie driver. 
“Has anyone RSVPed?” you question over his shoulder. He’s in the middle of mixing some mysterious liquid, but by the looks of it, doesn’t look any good. You grimace. 
He lets out a bleh before dropping his utensils. “No one RSVPs these days. They either show up, or they don’t.” 
A slow nod. “So, you don’t know who’s coming?”
“Not a clue. But most likely everyone.”
You scoff. “How are you so sure?”
He gives you an ‘are you kidding me?’ type glare before sending a sly grin. “First of all, it’s my party. They’d be crazy to miss out. And second of all…it’s only the biggest, funnest, coolest jamboree!”
“Funnest is not a word.”
“And party-poopers aren’t welcomed.” You gasp, smacking his chest harshly. He lets out a snicker, picking up a bag of ice and spilling it into the glass bowl. “But I’ll make an exception. Just this once.”
“Just this once,” you mimic before dipping your pinky in. He instantly slaps your hand away. Smacking your lips, you let out a yelp at the bitter taste. “This tastes like ass. God—not even Daniel will drink this, and that guy drinks anything in his way. I’m surprised he hasn’t been accidentally roofied.”
Lando claps his hands with amusement. “God forbid. And please, pay your respect to Lando’s Best Worst Decision.” A beat. “™.” 
“™?” you deadpan. “What? Are you planning on adding a trademark to this sewage water?”
“It’s good, okay?” Mixing the clear liquid once more, he smiles fondly down at it. “And maybe. I’m seriously considering it.”
You sneer, already walking away.
He ends up being right. Not even an hour later, the party is in full swing. Sure, a couple drivers aren’t able to make it, but it’s still jammed packed. It's honestly a miracle to get through the Monaco flat. 
You’re still sober?
Laughing, you nod, raising your water up in the air like some toast. Daniel frowns. “Considering I have to make sure my number one client doesn’t make any bad choices tonight, then nope. Can’t have a sip of alcohol.” 
Brown eyes flutter slowly. “I’m sure there’s other beverage choices. Have you tried Lando’s Best Worst Decision?” He leans in, winking. “™.”
“Oh no. Don’t tell me you actually like it?” He shrugs and you shudder in disgust. “I’m sure I saw him add ten energy shots and God knows what else.”
“No wonder I feel kinda funky.” Your face drops. “Hey, if you pass out, can I crash tonight?”
“Daniel!” you groan, covering your face. “I swear, I’m going to spill that stupid drin—” Only, Daniel is gone. Craning your head, you circle the room. From where you stand, you’re able to see Carlos and Lando taking part in a heated round of pool, all while Charles sways back and forth, infamous red cup in hand.
Marching over to the kitchen island, you pick up the glass bowl and carry it over to the sink before tipping it over. You huff, hair fanning across your nose. 
“Stupid, stupid boys—”
“Hey.”
You shriek, dropping the bowl, and wincing at the sound of glass shattering. 
Oscar grimaces. “Shit. Sorry. Are you hurt?”
“No.” You sigh. “Lando’s gonna kill me.”
Grabbing the nearby broom, the Australian sweeps carefully while knitting his brows. “Why?”
“It’s a family heirloom.”
“A glass bowl?”
You giggle. “I wonder why too.”
Despite the blaring music, and constant chattering, the room feels rather silent. You fiddle with the hem of your dress, and that seems to catch his eye as it dawns on him that he hasn’t really seen you in anything other than your usual uniform. To be fair, you could say the same. He likes it. 
You clear your throat. “Halfway done. How do you feel?”
He sips on his water, jaw clicking before settling with a sharp tsk. “Good. I think I’m finally getting the hang of it. Anastasia even congratulated me the other day when I diverted a series of questions with ease.”
Impressed, you raise your brows. “Bravo. Wish that was the case with Lando. I swear, sometimes I think he does and says things to make me look bad on purpose.”
“He should stop,” he says with a goofy smile. “Does he not know how lucky he is to get to call you his assistant?”
You blush. “Best friend, actually. I’ve been promoted ever since I pretended to be his girlfriend last New Year's Eve.”
The brunette inches forward with curiosity. “Wish to clarify?”
You hop onto the island, fixing your dress and crossing your legs. “Don’t tell him that I told you any of this, but I secretly think he was embarrassed of not having a midnight’s kiss. Especially since his ex was there with her new boyfriend. Talk about the unexpected.”
His chest tightens. “You two, um…kissed, then?”
“Yes,” you confirm with a childlike grin, and for some reason, it makes him want to puke. “Oh God, I haven’t thought about this in forever!”
He pretends to find interest in the crowded room, but really, it all remains on you. “Was it any good?”
You blush this time and he swears he’s close to walking away. “Yes and no. I mean, it wasn’t bad, but it just didn’t feel right.”
He perks up then, floppy hair bouncing at the sudden speed. “Really?” He coughs, then fixes his watch, training his eyes towards the floor. “Erm, I mean, is that so?”
A nose scrunch. “It felt like kissing someone you’re not supposed to. Which I suppose is true. We’re better off as friends.” He relaxes. “Thinking about it, we might’ve gagged each other's mouths.” You grimace. “If that doesn't show our discomfort, then I don’t know what will.”
“Good to know.” Oscar rubs his arm, up and down, then steps closer to you. You blink. “Hey, I was meaning to ask—”
Strippers? I didn’t order any strippers. 
Hire, a male voice interjects. He means to say he didn’t—hire—any strippers. 
“Son of a…” You wince apologetically, to which he shrugs. Don’t worry. Go. Biting your lip, you nod, rushing to the living room, where Lando, Daniel, and a bunch of other randoms circle the almost nude girls with long legs. 
“I mean, I won’t turn you away, ladies,” the Brit mumbled, already wrapping his arms around their waists. They all giggle, inching closer until he’s a blushing mess. 
You snap your fingers, pointing towards the exit. “All of you need to leave.”
Is that your sister? the one with a cowboy hat whispers into his ear. He quickly shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at you like a deadly weapon. 
“No. That’s his girlfriend,” Daniel yodels, face pressed up against the couch, admiring the group of girls. “But they’re in an open relationship.”
“I’m not his girlfriend—”
“She’s not my girlfriend—”
Oscar’s jaw clenches, eyes focused on the entire commotion. The older Australian rolls his eyes. “Right. We don’t talk about it.”
“Would you stop trying to help?” you shoot back, sarcastically, and clap your hands as if you’re rounding up a new high school cheer. “I need you all out. You want money? Fine. He’ll give you money,” you declare, signaling towards Lando. 
“Hey,” he groans, instantly letting go and stepping closer to you. “They haven’t even done anything to earn it….”
Your eye twitches. “I swear to God—”
“Deal,” the redhead shoots out. “But we need a moment to come to an agreement. You know? On how much we want to ask for.”
“Perfect,” you chirp, rolling your heels. “Take out your wallet, Big Boy.”
“You used to be fun.”
“And you used to be terrified over a pair of tits when I first met you. Whatever happened?” Lando blushes profoundly before pushing you away. “Want them gone, Lando, gone!”
“Yes! Jesus Christ—let me deal with this.”
“I’m done,” you promise with your hands raised up in surrender. “But just remember what happened last time.” He frowns, cocking his head to the side. You wiggle your brows. “São Paulo.” 
Color drains his face before letting out an unhinged laugh and motioning you away. You giggle, heading back to where Oscar stands. 
“I see what you mean,” he announces. What? “How he can have a bit of a headache.” 
“See! I told you! Four years of this!” A dramatic yawn. “I’m tired.” 
A string of boo’s follow once the strippers prance out the door, waving all their money in the air. Specifically Daniel, who genuinely looks upset to see them go. Oscar leans down against the counter, the proximity between you becoming smaller. “You should get some rest, then.” But he selfishly doesn’t  mean it. He wants you to stay—to keep talking to him. 
You let out a snort, grabbing your sides. “I mean, I'm tired of being Lando’s assistant. It’s a full time job, y’know?”
“Oh.” He stands up straight again. “Right. Of course.”
You purse your lips, looking down to your shoes. “But that was actually quite thoughtful.”
She thinks I’m thoughtful, he internally swoons because that must be a good sign, right? Not everyone is thoughtful, but he is, and that must count for something. Gathering all the strength he has left—which is not much considering you blink up at him like some angel—he licks his pink lips. “Back to what I was going to say earlier before you left—”
“I wasn’t trying to step on him! I already said I was sorry!” you hear a familiar voice, instantly turning to find Anastasia kicking Daniel’s face back into place, well, since he now lays asleep on the floor. You curse beneath your breath, jumping off the island once again. 
“His head did a complete 360!” Yuki accuses, clearly panicked. “That's not normal, is it?”
“No, it is,” Pierre replies with a bored tone. “I’ve seen it happen before.”
Crouching down next to the curly haired driver, you jab his cheek before motioning Oscar and Anastasia closer. “Help me carry him to the guest room,” you instruct, already taking off your cardigan. 
The black haired girl is quick on her feet, grabbing the Australians right leg as you grab the left. Oscar, however, swallows hard at the amount of cleavage you’re suddenly displaying, but instantly snaps out of it when both you and Anastasia blink back at him. He picks up the Alpha Tauri driver’s upper body before puffing. 
You blush bright pink at the sight of his muscles pulsing against his t-shirt. “I-It’s just around the corner.” 
As soon as you make it into the room, you three carefully place Daniel onto the bed, to which he squirms before flipping over and snoring away. You motion a finger over your lips before pushing them both out. Gently closing the door behind you,you let out a breath of relief. 
Anastasia lets out a whistle. “Surprisingly not that heavy.”
Oscar scoffs. “Easy for you to say. I had to carry most of his weight.” 
She shrugs, hugging you hello and apologizing for being so late, and you’re quick to reassure her that it’s fine, though she missed the chance to see strippers give Lando a tough time. She sneers. “I didn’t even know there existed strippers in Monaco.” And then she’s off, clapping loudly at the sight of Lando giving out a round of jello shots. You sigh, rubbing your temples.
“I-I’m sorry. What were you going to say?”
He freezes. “Oh. Just that—” He panics. “Only that I like your shoes!”
You blink, deflating from within. But you try to cover it up with a soft smile. “Thanks, I guess?” Orbs flicker down toward your white Sambas. “Lando says they are overrated, but I like ‘em.”
He nods. “Yeah. I like them too.”
-
It happens one Friday afternoon—the decision. 
You’re in between races, you’re in between headaches, and you’re ready to self-implode. So, before any of that happens, you make your first decision. To go on a walk. 
It’s getting rather chilly these days, something you love, but also hate. You love it because there is a certain coziness that comes along with it, but you also hate it because you can’t always be cozy, so you’re left shivering. Much like now. But to be fair, this was your own choosing. 
The pounding that takes over your head lessens the longer you stroll, the longer you breathe actual fresh air. You don’t really think much, you mainly remain blank, but the sound of tires screeching rips you away. Squinting hard, you catch a glimpse of a lady with grocery bags flipping off the fellow driver, who shares nothing but an apologetic smile before driving off. 
“What happened? Do I have something on my face?”
Dusting your nose, then your cheek, you blush faintly. You instantly assume it’s the powdered donuts fault—the one you had gobbled up in a hurry during the drive back to the paddock. It was an early morning, and no one really made it on time when it came to early days, but you always did. And so did Oscar. So, a sleepy Zak gave you a wad of cash, and sent you two to the nearest donut shop. 
The Australian shakes his head, blinking straight ahead. “N-no, I was just checking my blind spot.”
That only makes you blush harder because in what crazy world would he be looking at you? 
A single nod. The car is quiet apart from the sound of his hands moving against the steering wheel, and the sound of the blinker clicking. It’s gloomy, too. You clear your throat. “I love it when it rains.” He hums, calmly, encouraging you to continue. “It just makes me happy.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.” You purse your lips. “I sort of wish I were home. That way I can snuggle near the window and fall asleep to the sound of light drizzle.”
The brunette quirks a brow towards the road. “That sounds nice. Like…really nice.” A pause. “Why can’t you do that here, though?”
Here—here means where you are right now. Here means this place that’s not home. Here is not close to being enough, but he doesn’t figure that one out. You blink, dragging your finger along the pink box sitting on your lap. “Trust me, I’ve tried.” A small shrug. “But it’s just not the same, y’know? There’s always something missing.”
He doesn’t waste a moment in asking. “What do you think that is?”
Taken aback by his inquiry, you let yourself surmise for a second or two before licking your lips. “Maybe a pup. To keep me company”
He semi-frowns, cocking his head to send you a deadpan expression. “A dog?”
Now it’s your turn to frown, sending him a glare. “What were you thinking?”
The red light lets him take focus on you. “Dunno. A boyfriend, maybe?”
You’re sure you’re nearly as tomato red as the light staring at you both. “What? You instantly just assume I don't have one already?”
He freezes. “Well, I, um…t-that’s not what I meant—”
“Look, I know I’m not a guys’ typical ‘dream girl’, but sheesh I’m not that unlovable. At least, I hope not, but now you’re making me second guess. I mean, your opinion must indicate everyone sees me as some sort of lonely widow.”
Oscar shakes his head, adamantly. “I don’t see you as such.” A slow pause. “A lonely widow, I mean. I find your words to not be all that true, really. You’re nice. You’re persevering, You’re beautiful. And you have a good heart.” The light translates back to green, and you’re freakishly thankful, that way he can’t see you burn up. “You could easily be anyone's dream. Whoever makes you think otherwise is a phony.”
It’s getting harder not to laugh—most likely out of skeptic shock—but you refrain. He’s simply being kind with you, but that doesn’t stop you from nearly going into cardiac arrest. His words should have been labeled with a warning. 
“Guess this world is filled with lots of phonies.”
He scoffs. “There shouldn’t be. Not when it comes to a girl like you.”
Your breath catches. “Os—”
All of a sudden, the car comes to a harsh stop, sending you flying, but not the Australian, who remains sitting up straight. An older man flips him off before riding off on his bike. You both breath hard, turning to face each other. 
“Are you okay?” he questions, voice laced with worry. 
You nod, slightly dazed. “I, um—yeah. Are you?”
A nod. “I didn’t even see where he came from.”
A weak laugh finally erupts. “Blame it on the poor innocent man— clever.”
Brown eyes soften. They flicker from your orbs back to your pouty lips. He’s only checking if you’re okay, of course. You send him a reassuring bow and he releases a heavy breath. 
“Guess I was too focused on my blind spot, once again.”
The next decision comes when you opt in to join your neighbor, Mr. Lennon, for a cup of tea after he finds you shivering. By that time, it’s raining hard, you're soaking wet, and it only makes sense to accept his kind offer. 
“Mint. To hopefully push back any upcoming cold. God, what were you thinking?”
You let out a laugh. “Not much. That’s why I was aimlessly roaming.”
“What about now?”
You halt, mug raised up to your chapped lips. “What about now?”
He smiles, softly, mixing his own tea with a heavy spoon of honey. “Did the walk help? Were you able to get the wheels rolling?”
Now you giggle loudly. “That’s not very nice! The wheels are working just fine, thank you very much.”
The light scent of pine trees enter the room as soon as he stands up to open his window, the sound of soft rain singing to you as some much needed therapy. “So? What were you pondering about out there?”
“I wasn’t pondering.”
“Walking alone in the middle of a thunderstorm?” A sore laugh. “Been there. Done that. There’s always something on someone’s mind when that happens. Which isn’t often, or usual, so that must mean you’re really stuck up on something.”
“Or someone,” you mumble beneath your breath. His brows dart up, and you sheepishly settle the mug down. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
You blink. You don’t really talk about him out loud. Not with Lando. Not with Anastasia. Not even with your own reflection. Everything has always remained with you. A place you knew to be safe because you made it safe. But Mr. Lennon’s eyes prove to you that he’s lived enough lives—enough scenarios—to maybe understand. Even just a fraction. He watches you visibly gulp. And he knows that look. The confusion, the yearning. 
“I’m in love with this boy.”
He hums, leaning back against his wooden chair. “There’s always a boy.”
You look down. “He’s a friend of mine, which makes everything much worse because I can’t ruin that. But for the first time in all my years of living…” Round, glossy eyes stare back at him with a hopeless expression. “I really—really—want to.”
He’s attentive, he listens like some frozen statue, and maybe that’s what fuels your courage to continue speaking. “My entire life, I’ve had crushes, sure, but I’ve never loved someone. Not seriously. So, of course I’m caught off guard when I do feel that for someone who I’m not even in a relationship with.” A playful snort. “God, I feel so stupid.”
The silence that lingers is comforting. Your nerves flow away with the rain, and you feel at peace. Quietly, he clears his throat. “Can I tell you a story?”
A soft sigh. “I’m all ears.”
Gray brows furrow as if trying to recover a distant memory. “I once loved a boy, too.” Your eyes widen. Sure, you knew he was never married, never even had a kid, but you never thought of any reason as to why not. He nods, faintly. “Not many know, and not because I’m ashamed, not by any means…” A single beat. “But because real, sincere feelings are easier to ignore. Because who wants to deal with reality, right? Who wants to confess and be turned away like some dog at your door?”
Exactly, you think, nodding along. “Everyone is always going to be scared of something, but avoidant people like us are terrified about the what-ifs.” He sends a wink. “And I’m living proof that being that way won’t get you nowhere. And you'll realize sooner or later in life that you’d rather be nowhere with someone you love, than nowhere…” His eyes circle the nearly empty kitchen, despite living there for the past twenty years. “...all alone.”
Your chin wobbles. “You know you have me, right? I’m always next door.” A wet laugh follows. “Anyways, I might even join you in this lonely life, eh? Doesn’t sound half bad if I’m doing it with you.”
Tender eyes close slowly before blinking back at you. “No. I want you to be the complete opposite from me. Be different. Tell him how you feel. Even if it costs you a broken heart, tell him. Because I’m telling you right now that a broken heart is always better than the constant desire that will always follow you like the devil.”
A warm droplet rolls down your cheek as you sheepishly laugh, but he doesn’t judge. He never has. Instead, ever the true gentleman, he hands you his handkerchief. “Did you ever get the chance to tell him that you…”
His wrinkles imprint more vividly as he breathes out. “I did, but it didn’t really make the difference I had hoped for. He was already married to someone else.”
A loud sob escapes. “That’s not f-fair. You deserve to be happy with the man you love.”
“I do. But you know what?” You rub the tears away, eyes connecting. “I’ve made peace with the consequences of my own actions.”
By now the rain has died down, and so have you. With one last smile, Mr. Cleve gives your cold hand a soft squeeze.   
“Learn from my mistakes, won’t you?”
-
That same night, as you cried over a bottle of wine, you made your third and final decision. And you would execute it all the next time you saw him, no matter the outcome. 
But now that you spoke about it once to someone, you felt almost invincible. Which is why you called Lando. 
You what? 
A wince. “You can’t tell him, okay? I’m legitimately trusting you with this!” He opens his mouth, but you’re quick to signal him off. “Including Ana.”
“Wow. I thought she’d know.” You shrug because you don’t really have an explanation for not having had confided in her, but you know deep down that you’re not really into playing a game of Cupid, and that’s exactly what she'd turn this into. The Brit nods, sympathetically. “Alright. I won’t tell a single soul.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you going to tell him how you feel?”
His question comes out hesitant—like he’s afraid of scaring you away from the possibility—but it doesn’t. Instead, you nod, to which he’s extra surprised because you’ve never been the kind to. “That’s the main reason I told you any of this. Because I wanted to ask you if you knew if he has a girlfriend or not? Someone he’s trying to pursue? I’d hate to…intervene.”
Lando let’s put a soft smile, dimples imprinting neatly onto his face. “I mean, he’s particularly private—you know him—but I’ve never heard him mention having a girl. It doesn’t seem like he does. Go for it. What do you have to lose?”
“My dignity? A good friend?”
Silently, he grimaces because even he can see how much this all means to you—how much you’re scared. So, to boost up your confidence—which is something he definitely doesn’t lack—he flashes a loopy grin. “He probably likes you, anyways.”
You come to a fast halt. Suddenly, painting your nails isn’t your top priority. “Really? You think so?” He nods, and you can’t help but smile back. “What’d he say?”
“Well, as I already stated before, he keeps his things locked up pretty well. But I do recall one time…” He closes his eyes harshly. Then, he snaps his fingers loudly. “I believe in Hungary. He was on a high. And we shared a bottle of champagne to celebrate. So, he sort of let loose. Like insanely loose.”
“And?” you push, eagerly trying to get whatever he has stuck in his throat out of him. The green eyed boy snickers. 
“He wasn’t very clear, but he did say he had a crush on a girl. Someone he really wanted to get to know. But that  things were a little bit difficult.” You nod, urging him to continue. “I asked why, and he said it was because she had a good heart, or something of that sort? Good intentions? Can’t remember—and that he didn’t want to ruin it.”
Your breath hitches.
And you have a good heart. You could easily be anyone’s dream. 
-
Ironically, you’re huddled in Lando’s flat once again when it happens. Well. Almost happens. It’s filled with a few McLaren members because he insisted on hosting a nice brunch. And it was. Nice, you mean. 
“Pretty,” Anastasia says, sending a soft smack towards your ass. You yelp, swatting her hand away, and pulling your skirt downward. She snickers. “You should tie your hair up more often. Let’s everyone admire such an angel face.”
“Stop it,” you hiss, but can’t hide the pink flush. “But thank you.” 
She grins, eyes crinkling. Black hair sways as she moves to the beat of the music, nursing her drink. “Nice to have a break…”
“Definitely.”
At some point, she slithers away, leaving you all alone on the balcony. Which was quite lonesome until he came along. Oscar scrunched his nose, meekly. “Sorry.”
“It’s alright. Don’t own this place, do I?”
He lets off a raw chuckle. Deeper than when you first met him, and you come to the realization that a lot about him has changed. His hair is longer, his neck is thicker, and his shoulders are wider. But his smile and eyes remain the same. Boyish.
“Thinking?”
You sigh, admiring the ocean set out right in front of you. “Thinking, yes. A lot these days.”
And if he’s patient enough, he’d notice the way your hands shake. Tiny vibrates, but still.. He’d notice the way you bite down on your lip, brushing it along the way. He’d notice the way you blink feverishly, like even the wind hurts. 
And he is. He is a patient person. So, he does notice. 
“Do you know what song this is?”
Brows furrow, deep in thought. And he’s quick to note that the ticks you had are coming to an easy halt. Mentally, though, you’re cursing yourself out because you do know. You do know the song that flows nicely into your ears, but simply having him next to you is what’s making you forget. How dare me have that kind of power over you?
“I know it,” you start. “But I can’t seem to remember right now...”
The brunette gently nods his head along to the beat. His eyes close, and his hair delicately tussles, and suddenly he’s the only thing you see. “Sex,” he says. You blush, ripping your gaze away before he catches you in the act. Oscar laughs. “It’s Sex by The 1975. How could I forget?”
“Oh yeah.”
The guitar screeches when the volume somehow gets louder, despite not being inside. “Would have killed me not to get it right. My sister listens to it all the time.”
Plump lips pressed together. “You have a sister?” But you know the answer to that question, of course you do. You’re a girl. You’ve done your research, even when you pinched yourself not to. 
He nods. “Three, actually. Talk about a headache, am I right?”
And it’s almost nostalgic—your laugh. Like it might be one he heard in his past life, but in his current one, can't remember. But it’s okay if he doesn’t because at least he knows he can learn it. And he has. 
“You look really pretty when you laugh that way. Insanely so.”
You can’t seem to register his words. The way they come off as soft and ginger as they could possibly get. As if he really means it. And for the first time since your first interaction with him almost two years ago—you sort of believe he might. 
“You’re just saying that?” you question as some test, does eyes challenging him into finally spitting out the truth. The same truth you carry. He shakes his head, taking a step closer.
“I mean it.” 
Like a sudden magnet, you two are hesitantly connecting closer and closer together before either of you could stop it. Not that either of you would. The Australian towers over you, almost caging you like some endangered species he’s afraid of slipping away and going extinct. 
You swallow, lashes fluttering, and he smiles at the sight—melts. You’ve always been reserved. Quiet. Shy. And so has he, so he can’t really judge you, but he’s willing to be different—just once in his life—to get what he’s been wanting for a long time now. 
His eyes follow your lips. Admires how plump they are. How they’re the perfect shade of pink. So, when he leans in and you don’t pull away? He thinks he might explode with the need to kiss you. One time. If he’s lucky, just—once. 
“You’ve always been my dre—”
“There you two are!” Anastasia cheers, zigzagging to you both as an apologetic Lando follows right after. By now, Oscar has jumped far away from you, and you’re left feeling empty and lost, blinking at an alarming rate. “We’ve been looking all over!” A hiccup. “What were you doing?” Your lips remain open but Oscar is the first to let out an awkward cough.
“We were just talking about…logistics!” He turns to you, sparing you a pleading look. “W-weren’t we?”
You finally come to, nodding slowly, eyes buzzing between the two McLaren drivers and your best friend, who wobbles from left to right. “Yeah, I….we—logistics, and whatnot.” A beat. “Doesn’t matter.”
He flinches, avoiding your doleful stare. Oscar forces such a bright smile—the kind that can’t go unnoticed by even the biggest idiot on earth—and nods in agreement. “She’s right. It doesn’t matter.”
Lando analyzes you, then his teammate, and wishes he had done more to keep Anastasia from barging in. But really, was this some sign? Maybe you were some delusional little girl who truly believed she had a chance with the boy next door. The one everyone wants, but only one will get to have.
And let’s face it. 
It was never going to be you.
-
You’d make an excellent detective in your next life, you’re sure of it. But for now, you’re just some brokenhearted assistant who mourns the death of her what-ifs. Someone who is really good at picking up on clues. 
It’s right before Christmas—right before Anastasia’s birthday party—and you’re curling your hair quite poorly. You daze off every now and then, you apply mascara almost zombie-like, and you’re dreading even showing up. Have you been avoiding him? Yes. Yes, you have. Have you been good at it? Only the best, if we’re being truthful here. And were you ready to face him without feeling the need to bolt? 
Nope. Not in this lifetime nor the next.
But still, you force yourself to finish getting ready because this isn’t about you. This isn’t about him. It’s about being there for your friend. 
Mindlessly, on the drive there, pouting in the back of the yellow cab, you click onto Instagram and the first thing you do is smile at the birthday post Anastasia had posted not even five minutes ago. You scroll, smile wider, and then come to a harsh pause. The kind that makes your throat close up. The kind that makes you stop breathing. 
The kind that lets you know—
You’ve lost.
His arms are tied around her waist, his head his nuzzles between her neck, but you can still tell it’s him. His hazel hair can’t go unnoticed. Maybe to someone else, but not you. 
Then, as if all odds are against you, your feed refreshes and you’re left far more dumbfounded. 
She appears in most of his pictures because why not? It’s his girlfriend's birthday, it goes as expected. Museum dates. Pictures of them with each other's families. And you feel greedy like never before because—why couldn't that be you? 
Venmo or cash? You look up, making eye contact with your taxi driver who looks as tired as you are. You press your lips together into a fine line. Digging into your purse, you grab all that you have and jump out of the cab. 
It’s chilly out and the lights are beautifully hung, but it doesn’t do you any good. You just want to go home. Curl up in bed and die. Dig a hole—self-suffocate—who cares. And you’re ready to turn around, go back and apologize to Mr. Lennon for not doing better. You really thought you had it in you, but it just wasn’t enough. 
But then, the door swings open and Pierre curls a brow. Kika waves from behind “He thought you were some serial killer. He’s been watching too much Dateline.” The brunette scurries over, throwing her arms around you and takes a step back. “Come in before you freeze to death.”
But even that didn’t sound too bad. You sheepishly thank her, following the couple back in. A string of jazz cradles the warm lit living room and the scent of apple pie makes you inhale sharply. A giggle stirs up behind you. Anastasia grins.
“You’re here!”
All of a sudden, you hate her smile. You hate her laugh. You hate her entirely. But you also don’t. You can’t hate her smile. You can’t hate her laugh. You can’t hate her entirely. Because even though you feel like she owes you loyalty, that’s not really true. She had zero idea about your feelings towards Oscar and she won. Fair and square. That doesn’t mean you had to like it.
“Happy birthday, Annie.” Hugging her, you giggle against her ear when she jumps up and down, nearly knocking you two over. “For you. From me.”
She wiggles her neat brows, green eyes buzzing with suspicion. “Is it a vibrator again?”
You blush. “No. Even better.”
“Wow! Even better?” She rips the small bag open, eyes widened double in their size. “Oh my God, you got me the Mary Jane’s I wanted?”
“Well, you kept bugging me, and so I thought—”
“D'accord, je comprends. I love them, thank you.” Grabbing your wrist, she tugged you into the empty hallway, and you can already feel her buzzing with excitement. Your stomach churns. “I wanted to tell you as soon as he asked me out—I really did—but he insisted on keeping it between us two for a while, and I told him no, I had to tell you, but then I understood that maybe it was for the best, and I’ve always liked him—”
Every word makes you feel smaller and smaller because the light in her eyes gives it all away. She, too—much like you—is in love with Oscar Piastri. You shake your head, sharing a light laugh. “I totally get it. There’s no need to explain.” 
The green eyed girl visibly relaxes, shoulders rolling back. “I knew you’d understand. Oscar was right—you have a good heart.”
Ana, Yuki just spilled wine on your coach, Daniel rattles from the other side of the room, pointing accusingly towards his teammate who rubs the cushion with his Dior sweatshirt. She sighs. Be right back!
At that moment, you don’t care if you wind up with a deadly case of hypothermia, you simply walk out of the warm house.
“What are you doing? You’re going to get sick.”
Screwing your eyes shut seems to be the only answer to help your mending heart into not breaking completely. And fuck him—fuck him for sounding so goddamn caring. 
You turn with a soft smile, shrugging nonchalantly. “Won’t really make a difference, I already feel sick.” You cough for emphasis. “See?” Oscar rolls his eyes, ignoring the poor excuse, and hands you his puffer jacket. You shake your head. Take it. “No.” He frowns. Why not? Rocks crunch with every step he takes. “It wouldn’t be right.”
“What? Borrowing a jacket from a friend?”
“Borrowing my best friend's boyfriend’s jacket.”
His stomach drops, rolling with a wave of anxiety as he tries to not show his uncomfort. “She told you?”
Your teeth grind harder. “That, and you both posted about a thousand pictures together. Wasn’t that difficult to understand what was going on.” A sore laugh. “I’m happy for you two, though. Really. I am.”
“You are?”
Sending a nasty glare that you tried to keep in for the life in you, you turn over to face him, nose rosy. “Yes. Over the fucking moon.”
He flinches. “Listen, about that day at Lando’s house. I-I-I was caught up in the moment. I shouldn’t have said what I said, o-or tried to kiss you—”
“You’re a phony, you know that, right?”
Another flinch. “I’m trying to apologize to you. I’m sorry. I feel bad, okay?”
Tears well up inside your eyes. Somewhere deep inside your chest, you feel a harsh sting, and still that doesn’t compare to his pity. You let out a scoff, crossing your arms. “You feel bad, for what? For messing with my emotions, or for getting with my best friend?” You poke his chest hard, but he remains as still as a brick wall, a pained expression mapped out. “Which one is it?”
“For all of it!” He grabs your face, making you freeze under his fire-like touch. “I loved you—God—I loved every inch of you. Your humor, your heart, your jokes that never land, the awkward giggles that follow afterward—everything. There was not a single thing you could do that could have pushed me away.”
“Then what happened?” you whisper, eyes tracing his pink lips, trying to enjoy his hands. They’re calloused, sure, but they’re by far the closest thing you’ve had, so nothing else matters. His breath hitches, soft eyes looking down at you in complete defeat. You grimace. “Why was I not enough for you to try?”
His hands drop. Brown locks shakes as he rubs his eyes, like this is all some part of a fever dream. Maybe it was. The Australian frowns. “I could ask you the same thing.”
It’s a slap in the face, and it burns like never before because you know he’s right. “I wanted to tell you!” A shaky breath. “I was going to tell you.”
Leaves rustle. “You were?”
“Yes,” you confess, nodding adamantly. “That day at Lando’s place—I wanted to tell you.”
The McLaren driver bites his tongue hard, blinking rapidly. “W-what would you have said?”
“That I loved you too.”
He can’t hide his pain just by hearing those words. He scrunches his nose. He nods robotically. And he keeps his eyes trained towards the ground, like he’s in the middle of solving a puzzle. 
“I really did like you. From the moment we met.” Finally, he looks up, round eyes searching for any sign of intimacy. If there’s any left—any you still save for him. “Do you remember the day we first met?”
“A little bit. Yeah.”
A second ticks by. “I do. Remember it all, I mean. Think back to it quite often.” He lets out a boyish grin, crinkles forming, making your heart flutter. “You took my breath away.” 
And as if humanly possible, despite the icy air, your cheekbones flush harder as you bite back a giddy smile. “You barely even noticed me—”
“You wore a white ribbon. Hair half up, half down. Denim overalls with your initials sewn onto them. Emerald earrings.” You blink, clearly taken aback by his polished memory. His eyes soften. “I’ll always notice you.”
-
Anastasia pecks the Australians cheek, giggling after each one. Oscar smiles, letting out a sheepish laugh. From the corner, seated next to Lando, you sigh sadly. The Brit bumps his shoulder up against yours. What’s wrong? But you must not have heard him, or you ignore him, but he, too, has eyes. 
“I swear I didn’t know a thing about them,” he whispers. “If I had, I would have warned you, you know that—”
“Lando,” you cut him off, voice weak and mellow. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault.”
He frowns. “I know that, but—”
“It’s not your fault,” you repeat, this time more firm. He swallows, nodding hesitantly. With a soft laugh, you poke his ribs and he’s quick to let out a yelp. “Just want to forget, you know?”
Lando hums. “Understood.”
Anastasia clinks her spoon against her mug. The one you each painted differently in that one pottery class years ago. She grins. “I’m so glad all of you could make it, really, it means a lot.” Her eyes crinkle sweetly towards Oscar who traces shapes down her back. She blushes for him—the same way you do. “I feel like…I finally have everything I ever wanted.”
A string of oohh's echo the room, whistles ringing. She laughs, head falling back, and he lets out a single chuckle, rosy cheeks making everyone grow louder. Meanwhile, you stay silent, focusing on Lando’s shoes. The Brit winces, rubbing your shoulder awkwardly. 
Daniel yodels, raising his beer. “Well, in that case, I feel like I do too!” He hiccups, making Pierre and Yuki snicker. “A hot girlfriend, good ‘ol friends, and a nice pair of abs.”
“They are nice,” Lily mumbles, earning her a soft smack from Alex who rolls his eyes. 
Carlos cackles. “Me next—um, okay. A good team, my girlfriend, and…and—my hair.”
“Narcissist,” Lando whispers, trying to get a good laugh out of you. And it works. You giggle, muffling the sound with the back of your hand. Oscar perks up, orbs floating over to where you and the Brit whisper to one another, smiles only growing wider. His jaw clenches. Either way, you tune out all the constant chatter after hearing how Pierre was grateful for having a massive cock. 
“I really hope nothing changes between us.”
You laugh. “I think it might be a bit too late for that.”
The Australian scratches his shoes against the wet pavement. He agrees. He won’t admit it, but he agrees. Everything has changed. Timidly, he glances over at you, biting the inside of his cheek. His gaze burns—just like always—and you turn to face him.
By now your tears have dried, but your heartbreak still continues. Something deep inside tells you that it’ll continue for as long as you live. You despise yourself for letting any of this get out of hand. For letting your fear of rejection play a big part in losing him. He smiles.
“I love you, okay?”
You smile. “I love you, too.”
Your voice sounds sweet—just like honey. And if it’s a lie, just to make him feel better, then he’s a grateful bloke. He might not have your heart—not completely—and he might not have your hand in his, but he’s fine with that. Because he’s heard all he’s needed to hear. And he can live at peace.
Oscar grins, leaning down to kiss your cheek. It’s tender, just the way you pictured it. You smell like flowers, just like he had dreamt. He pulls away. “You can always talk to me. Whenever. I’ll always be there for you.”
“Thank you. But I won’t bother you too much.” His brows furrow, mouth opening to protest before you wave him off with a tired smile. “Don’t want to vent to you about…well—you.”
“What about you?” Anastasia squeals, making your jump in place. 
“What about me?” 
She rolls her eyes, theatrically. Oscar remains as still as a statue, enjoying the moment to admire you without having to explain why—all eyes were on you, after all. “Have you ever gotten everything you ever wanted?”
Wistfully, your eyes look up, connecting with the ones you know so well. You admire his boyish features one last time before looking down onto your lap and then focusing on Anastasia.
“No. But I once got very close.”
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merakidoll · 2 days
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ෆ 𐙚 onynnie back in full effect!
warnings | chubby black reader. bi! onynnie ( no bxb -_- ) all consensual sex, bondage, watching, ony tells reader that she has to say her safeword .. thats all!
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“y-yall gone play like this?” the room was in it’s usual high sexual tension state. but instead of it being you bonded for the free use of the two men. it was now onyankopon’s turn - and he wasn’t happy about it.
you tried ignoring him, bobbing your head on his long length, spit bubbles on the sides of your lips and dried cum all over your face. your tummy bubbled in anticipation for another load, to taste the savory ropes that ony always gave you. your brain was so gone from the room, just enjoying the fullness of your mouth at a good pace, all until ony bucked up in your mouth making you choke. “you hear me ma?” you moved up from his dick taking deep breaths and looking at his low eyes with your watery ones. he was mad, you knew it, he knew it, and connie - the man who’s whole idea it was, and who was watching everything happen from the kitchen with a small bowl of popcorn waiting for the chocolate man to pop- knew it.
“untie me baby. then daddy won’t be too rough” ony held no question in his words, his dick jumping when you looked down at the bed and bit your lip shaking your head. “no?” he said aloud. his voice made you flench, but you were far from scared, in fact it excited you. onyankopon let out a deep chuckle making both you and connie shiver, before anyone knew it the pink cuffs were broken. ony’s wrist stinging as you let out a loud gasp, falling back onto the bed, while the man above you teased his fat tip between your pussy lips.
“you like games yea baby?” ony wasn’t worried about connie at the moment, right now it was all about turning you back into his good girl. you both held deep eye contact, your big eyes scanning over his facial features while your tummy bubbled in anticipation. onyankopon pumped into you hard; his full length stuffing your cunt that you chocked on your spit at the fullness. “b-break daddy!” you cried, voice low and chocked. ony, shook his head, using the pads of his thumb to wipe your cheeks from the salty tears that painted it.
“bad girls don’t get breaks” throwing his head back, he stilled in your pussy when you clenched down hard onto him. his mind went blank for a second, cock waiting to let out its seamen but he was holding himself back- at least until he knew you learned. “y-you want me to stop? say your safe word baby” his balls slapped against your ass, pace speeding up quickly, so fast that your had to bite down onto his shoulder to hold back your screams. in the kitchen connie’s popcorn was long gone, his hands clean and his eyes glued to the ipad while he fisted his cock. he was on the brink of a second orgasm, your cries and mean ony always making his cum so quickly.
he licked his lips when onyankopon whispered in your ears, his eyes focusing on how your own rolled back screaming how you’d be good. a splash coming from between you and ony, while his second lover stilled in your cunt, pearly white teeth gritting together as he came, a small ‘good fuckin girl’ passing his lips. “mm fuck” connie whispered to himself, his hand becoming slimy with his on release. his breath began to slow, connie not paying attention to what you two were doing on the screen. his eyes closed in a high bliss. all until a large hand wrapped around his throat. he slowly opened his eyes, teeth immediately tugging at his lower tip as the man above was fuming.
“you’re next” was all onyankopon said, and those words told so much.
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luveline · 2 days
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anything with roan and eddie pls 🙏🙏 whatever you want to write about them!! i miss them 🥺🥺
thanks for requesting!! fem
Baking tray, beef cuts laid out flat. Eddie works in silence, dressing the beef with garlic honey, sesame seeds, and a big pinch of salt. He’d like to add some ginger, some paprika, but Roan doesn’t like when things taste smoky. 
He saran wraps the tray and puts it in the fridge. He makes everyone’s veggies —you like different stuff to Eddie, who likes different stuff to Roan, so he makes a garden’s worth of greens and douses them in olive oil, flaky salt, and a little dash of lemon and pepper. He puts that atop the beef in the fridge and tries to think of a side. He was planning on making pasta tonight, before he realised the beef was gonna go bad soon. Maybe he’ll make a pan of crispy mac and cheese to go with it. 
Yeah. He smiles to himself. That looks good on his head, two roasted ribs, a fist of mac and cheese, and a half a plate of roasted veggies. 
He cuts a little cilantro ‘cos Roan loves it, adds some lemon juice to that too, and sets it aside in the fridge. He makes a quick mac and cheese on the stove and tips it into a baking tray, covers a third of it in bacon bits for the youngster, and puts that in the oven. 
Then he sits at the table and sighs. Scratches two hands through his hair, lets the tight achy small of his back decompress as he leans forward. 
When Eddie started working at the shop with Wayne, he figured it would get easier over time. Part time table-bussing wasn’t going to pay for a trailer or his brand new baby, and for months it’s not like he could work anyhow. He lived solely off of his Uncle Wayne as he learned to change diapers, and calm colic, and be a new dad. It was depressing and frustrating all of the time. He felt like shit because he’d just fucking landed Wayne with another mouth to feed and diapers were so, so expensive, and so was formula, and baby clothes, and the guilt worsened when he realised he loved her. Loved Roan. He loved her pretty much the moment he laid eyes on her, but he had no idea if he could be a father, just knew he couldn’t let his kid fall into the system. 
But loving her had been second to panic for weeks. Then one day he was washing her tummy in the bath and he swore blind that she smiled at him, whether babies her age could smile or not. He tumbled out of the bathroom with her in a towel poncho to brag, and that night at dinner, Wayne gave a frowny Eddie the option: start working alternate shifts at the shop. Wayne would have her in the evenings while Eddie worked, they’d sorted everything out, he could start next week. It wasn’t half as scary as being a new dad, so Eddie said yes. 
Anyways, he expected it to get easier. He knows more about parenting and cars than he ever imagined at twenty, but it’s still hard. He’s exhausted. 
Good thing he knows exactly why he does it. 
The door to the living room opens with a creak. Small feet pad around the stair bannister and down the hallway that leads to the kitchen. Roan stops walking when she notices him behind the table. She smiles. She looks like him, less as she gets older, but enough to have given an appreciation for his own features. What’s more beautiful than seeing your smile on someone else’s lips?
“Hey, daddy.” 
“Hi, munchkin.” 
Truthfully, Roan has been his best friend for years. There’s something intangibly close about a single parent and their only child, especially when they’d lived alone. Day after day together, seeing all the gross bits and all the love. It’s given her a vast depth of emotional intelligence. She’s smarter now as a kid than Eddie was at 18. 
“You okay?” she asks, holding her hands up. He picks her up, plonking her on the table in front of him. “You look tired, daddy. And you smell like pepper.” 
“I just finished making ribs, babe.” 
“Yum!” Her nose moves when she talks, “For dinner?” 
“Mm-hm.” He finds her hand. Holds it gently. “Mac and cheese and roasted broccoli, too.” 
Roan smiles again. “Dad, you’re a good chef.” 
“I know I am! But it took so much practice. When you were born, you know what I was eating for dinner every night? I was eating chicken pot pie you put in the microwave.” She wrinkles her nose. “I know. I didn’t care about being good to my body. I definitely didn’t listen to my tummy.”
He likes this part about being a dad. He’s never found it awkward. He just drops his voice into softness and talks to her on her level. 
“But you learned.” 
“I did learn. I wanted to make sure you were eating everything you need. That’s why we eat all that broccoli.” 
She pokes him in the torso with her socked foot. “Maybe less broccoli for my tummy.” 
“I got potatoes and stuff too, don’t worry.” Eddie reaches for her hair in its after school mess, raking it away from her face. “You know I love you, right?” 
“Well, duh.” 
“I know, but really. I love you more than anything.” 
“More than Y/N?” 
“No,” he says quickly, then laughs. “Yeah, but just a little bit. It’s a different kind of love, okay? I love you both like crazy, but you’re my baby. Even though you’re not a baby anymore.” 
“I could be a baby,” she whispers, grinning, “I can be small again, and you can carry me everywhere, and give me a bottle.” 
He laughs roughly. “Yeah? You want a bottle? You barely like milk.” 
“Well, you can still carry me.” 
“I do carry you. I’m surprised these feet work,” he says, squeezing her toes in both hands. 
“Dad, don’t!”
“Sorry, sorry,” he presses his thumb between her foot and her toes and then drops them altogether. “I remember when your foot was the size of my thumb.” 
“I don’t.” 
He laughs more loudly than he means to and scoops her up for a rough and tumble hug. “God, I love you. I really do, bubby.” He presses his nose to her head and blames how tired he is for what he says next. “You are everything to me, you know that? You’re my everything.” 
“You’re my everything.” 
He tips her back to see her. Beams at her, touches his nose to hers. “You and Y/N, you make my life perfect.” 
“I’m glad,” she says, which has him laughing all over again, a childish giggle. 
When you get home a half hour later, you find them in weird places. Eddie’s sitting on the kitchen floor watching the ribs cook in the oven, and Roan’s under the table building a marble run with his approval. “Here?” she asks. 
“And the orange piece. We need more pieces, it’s not long enough.” Eddie smiles at you as you enter, but leans back, opening the cupboard under the sink to grab a saucepan, the sieve, and plastic jug. “We can use these.” 
“What’s up, my Munsons?” you ask. 
Roan smacks her forehead against the edge of the table in her excitement. “Ouch!” she says, crawling from under it to crowd your legs. 
“Ouch!” you echo, face morphed with concern as your handbag slides down your arm. You drop it to the floor and take her cheeks into your hands. “Did that hurt? I’m sorry, I feel like that was all my fault.” 
She shakes her head, curls bouncing this way and that. “It was an accident.” 
“I know, I know, but I didn’t mean to startle you.” You brush her hair back gently and hover. “Can I kiss it better?” 
“Don’t kiss it, it stings!” Roan says, veering away from you with a frown. 
“Sorry!” 
Roan twists away from you to fall into Eddie’s lap. 
“Sorry,” Eddie mouths. 
You pout. It’s with extreme beautifulness —is that a word? Eddie’s pretty sure it’s a word— you slip out of your little heels and sit down on your knees, stockings dark and perfect on legs he adores. You don’t question why they’re on the floor. That’s how you all fit, his smart working girl and your shared grumpy daughter, because nobody asked Eddie why he sat down by the oven. 
“Sorry, baby,” you say softly.
Roan’s frown worsens, but she says, “No, I’m sorry. My head hurts. I missed you.”
“I missed you too, big girl.” 
“Big girl?” she asks. 
“You sounded very grown up, is all.” 
Eddie has to agree. “You’re just that smart.” 
You hold his ankle. “So, how was work? How was school? Fill me in.” 
“How was your day?” Eddie asks. 
“Super usual and boring. We had some people from the Brussels branch come to visit and Jess kept telling me to stop being so awkward, and I asked her what she meant and she said I was smiling like somebody was holding me hostage.” 
Eddie loves when you smile like that. When you’d first met, you used to smile that way all the time. He loves all your smiles, obviously, but your excited–scared combo isn’t one he sees much anymore. 
You shrug. “But work paid for lunch, and I had this amazing mango passionfruit cake roll, I snook you some.” 
“You did?” Roan asks eagerly.
“I did! It’s in my purse, but it has a price.” 
“What’s the price?” Roan asks. 
You put your head in your hand. “I wanna know what you guys have been up to today.” 
When Eddie plates dinner that evening, it’s with a distinct sense of pride and content mashed together. It’s a damn good-looking meal, dense with nutrition and flavour alike, and you and Roan both seem similarly awed. Eddie wanted ribs and he got them, but almost as pleasurable as eating them is the way you both tuck in. You compliment his roasted veggies, telling him you could eat them for every meal, and Roan’s face is plastered in sticky honey garlic in minutes, a macaroni elbow in her hair. 
“Know what dad told me earlier?” she asks you. 
You snort and rescue her hair. “What did he tell you, baby?” 
“That we make his life perfect.” 
Eddie chokes on his coke. “That was a secret,” he says, throat burning, “between you and me?” 
“You didn’t tell me that,” Roan says.  
“Don’t be embarrassed, Eds.” Your eyes turn to hearts, staring at him over the steaming tray of macaroni and cheese. “You guys make my life perfect, too. My babe and my personal chef.” 
He dodges your cheek pinch, grabbing your hand to hold instead. 
“Just wish somebody would make me dinner every once in a while,” he says.
“Whatever,” you say. 
“Dad, I can make you dinner.” 
“I don’t trust you ‘round the kitchen.” 
Roan guides a forkful of cheesy macaroni to her lips. “Okay, good. I can’t make pasta like you,” she says. Eddie won’t mind making dinner again tomorrow. 
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NERD!ANAKIN HEADCANONS
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TW: at some point it contains sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read it for your own safety and comfort.
Author's note: thinking about some nerd!anakin fic where he had heard the reader talk with her friends that she's not passing physics and since he has the biggest crush on her since second grade he later suggest to help her..if she'll help him with something else ;)
Nerd!Anakin who inside was a little dirty minded boy that wished nothing more to have a loving girlfriend to do with her all the cool, nice things he always wanted to do (and he meant more joyful activities than sex)
Nerd!Anakin who has a collection of technical manuals and scientific holobooks that he reads in his spare time. His nightstand is filled with them, and he gets excited when a new one comes out. He’ll stay up late, curled up on the couch, devouring a manual on hyperdrive mechanics or some obscure sci-fi novel, eyes glued to the hologram.
He also loves telling you all about the technical details of what he's learning. You may not always understand everything he’s talking about, but his excitement is so adorable that you just let him ramble on.
Nerd!Anakin who has a soft spot for droids, and he might even give them 'upgrades' just because he thinks they deserve a treat. “You’ve been working hard, buddy. How about a new power cell?”. He’ll talk to them while he works, explaining what he’s doing like they’re his assistants (his fav is R2D2 obviously)
Nerd!Anakin who gets ridiculously excited about the latest gadgets or tech upgrades. When something new comes out, he’s like a kid in a candy store. Whether it's a new holo-terminal, a high-speed pod engine - he��s always the first in line to get it. He’ll show it off to you, explaining every little detail with enthusiasm. “Look at this! It has a new feature that triples efficiency!” He gets that adorable spark in his eye, completely geeking out over the smallest improvements.
Nerd!Anakin who would love when you'd do your nails; he'd ask soon later (when you two are alone) if you could play with his hair to only feel you scratch very gently against his scalp
Nerd!Anakin who was a great whimpering mess whenever you touched him (poor guy had never felt woman's touch before);
a sharp gasp left his mouth as you touched the mushroomy tip of his member, his hips jerking towards you without thought. he was already embarrassingly close, and now your teasing was only driving him closer to the edge “please-“ he let out a pleading moan, the words barely leaving his dry mouth
"please what ani? Use your words like good boys do"
He tried to focus enough to form a coherent sentence but it was getting so hard when all his mind could focus on, was the way you made him feel “I’m close-“ he gasped out, his hips rocking frantically against your tightening fist “I’m so close baby, i need it” he let out a sobbing whimper
"can you hold it in a little?" you asked gently
he groaned at the question before nodding almost desperately “for you, anything” his glasses sliding down his nose
You only hummed, all proud of your actions. How easily you could tear him apart by your single touch. Using her free hand to move his glasses so they were a bit more comfortable on him. You increased your movements, making sure to
he could feel the heat in his abdomen tighten as your hand moved faster. he was struggling to keep himself together, not much to your surprise "oh-oh god-“ he let out a loud gasp and a groan as your thumb moved over his tip again, that little touch sending electricity up his spine “oh-fuck…” one hand digging into the couch for some kind of grip “I can’t hold it—please please please” tears of desperation and overwhelming began to prick at the corner of his eyes
Nerd!Anakin who when was nervous, draw circles and designs on the back of your hand to relax himself
Nerd!Anakin who did your own minifigure from Legos
Nerd!Anakin who always had perfectly ironed shirts
Nerd!Anakin who in general was perfectionist in everything he'd do. If he had a mess in his room, he couldn't focus normally. If just one thing was moved inches apart, it drove him wild
Nerd!Anakin who made cupcakes with his mother for you
Nerd!Anakin who's a true mommy's boy
Nerd!Anakin who teared up after you gave him his first blowjob. He felt so overstimulated when his thick member was hugged around your warm throat, your tongue working on his shaft..it was way too much for the first time, he'd gasp and ask you to slow down because if you wouldn't, you'd already have his cum dripping down your throat
Nerd!Anakin who gave you flowers - sometimes real one and sometimes he'd do them from origamy
Nerd!Anakin who has a little sketchbook where he draws schematics for future projects—droid designs, custom technology accessories, etc. He’s always thinking of new ways to improve things, and his sketches are filled with intricate details and notes.
Sometimes, he’ll show you a design he’s particularly proud of, grinning ear to ear as he explains how it works. “What do you think? Pretty sleek, huh?”
Nerd!Anakin who was a true worshipper of your body. Would press such gentle kisses all over your body as if you were a ceramic doll he was scared to break
Nerd!Anakin who's glasses got foggy everytime he made love to you, his curls sticking to his forehead and his pinky, swollen lips quivering to hold back his own orgasm
Nerd!Anakin who adored math and physics (but not as much as he adored you). And of course, he loved to help you with those subjects
Nerd!Anakin ho invited you to weekly movie marathon. With all the snacks ready and a fluffy blanket
Nerd!Anakin who adored to cuddle with you. It was something so precious for him, and whenever he had a chance, he'd just wrap his arms around your waist from behind and nuzzle to your soft neck
Nerd!Anakin who liked to play with your hair like brushing them out of your face, twirling the strand around his finger and watch intensively, as if it was the most important/gorgeous/captivating sight he had seen, how it hugged his finger so perfectly
Nerd!Anakin who had his 'sexual education' with you;
Anakin hesitantly reached out, his hand trembling as he lifted it towards your chest. He hesitates for a moment once more, not sure if he's ready to do that. He just felt so sinful watching you naked..but oh so good.. so, before the thoughts would envelope his entire mind, he gently cupped one of your round, full breasts. He instantly marveled at, not only the softeneness but the weight, the way it filled his palm, how it was so beautiful, seeing your raspberry ripple hidden thanks to his large hand made him feel so fuzzy all inside
As he squeezed the soft globe tentatively, feeling its weight sprawl all over his senses, he couldn't help but let out a low moan, his body responding to the newfound pleasure. Guilty feelings fade away, leaving him all needy for more of you. His fingertips graze over your nipple to harden it, eliciting a soft gasp from both of you. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with wonder. "I-how i-" he stuttered shyly "-what should I do now?"
"whatever you want..you can kiss it, play with it, anything you want Annie"
Anakin's eyes widen at your words. To have the whole access to your body felt more pleasurable than anything in his life. He leaned in, pressing a soft, tentative kiss to the underside of your breast. You gazed down at how his glasses pressed against your skin, making your breath hitched. He then brought his hand up to gently squeeze and caress the soft mound at your left breast, almost nuzzling to the right one. He looked back up at you, seeking approval, as if not sure if he could go any further
"go on, they're all yours" you encouraged
Anakin smiles shyly at your encouragement, feeling emboldened. He starts to kiss and lick at your breasts, alternating between the two. He gently nibbles on your nipples, sucking on them and releasing them with soft popping sounds. "Ahh... they're so soft... and t-tasty..." he mumbled the last part more quietly, as if embarrassed that he actually thought about your breasts in that way
he accidentally uses a bit too much pressure with his teeth, causing you to hiss in pain. He immediately freezes, his eyes filled with worry. "I'm so sorry... did I hurt you?" His voice soft, laced with adorable concern.
"no--its okay..just try to use a little less teeth..and relax"
Anakin nods, his expression turning gentle again. He leans back in, this time more careful, his touch feather-light. He alternates between sucking and licking, paying close attention to the way you react to his touch. "Like this?" He asks softly, his voice muffled against your skin.
"just like that" you tugged on his curls
After the moaned sentence left your mouth, Anakin felt a surge of pride. He continues his gentle ministrations, his own body growing harder with each passing moment. He looks up at you,l with his eyes hooded. "Can I... can I kiss you lower now?"
Nerd!Anakin who was scared to eat you out at first, cause it'd be his very much first pussy. But when he did, he had no idea how to do it. He used his teeth a little too much, his tongue a bit too forceful but in time he got better
Nerd!Anakin who loves space documentaries. He'll make you sit with him on the couch to watch them, enthusiastically pointing out facts you didn’t even know he knew. He’s the type to lean over and say things like, “Did you know that this system’s star is actually binary? And it formed 4.6 billion years ago?”
Nerd!Anakin who uses cheesy, nerdy pick-up lines that leave you both laughing. He’s the kind of guy who would say, “Are you made of copper and tellurium? Because you’re Cu-Te.” He says it with so much confidence that you can’t help but find it endearing.
When you tease him about it, he’ll get all flustered, scratching the back of his head with that sheepish grin. “I thought it was clever..and you'd like it, maybe give me a small kiss or something.."
Nerd!Anakin who is fiercely protective of his tech projects. If someone tries to mess with them or touch his tools without asking, he’ll get all defensive. “Hey, be careful with that! I’ve been working on this for weeks.”
But when it’s you? He lets you mess with his projects all you want, even if it makes him a bit nervous. He’ll give you a dorky smile and say, “Just don’t break it, okay?” But secretly, he loves sharing his passions with you.
Nerd!Anakin who, as smart as he is with machines, is absolutely terrible in the kitchen. He’ll try to make you dinner as a sweet surprise, but something always goes wrong—he burns the food, the recipe doesn’t turn out, or the kitchen ends up looking like a disaster zone.
He’ll stand there, looking embarrassed but hopeful, holding a burnt dish with a lopsided grin. “Uh, it’s a little... crispy..”
Nerd!Anakin who leaves you small, nerdy notes;
On a sticky note on your fridge
"You’re the binary star to my existence. Without you, my orbit is off. Also, I reprogrammed the toaster. You're welcome.”
In your notebook or planner
“If I could rewrite the laws of physics, I'd bend space-time just to spend an extra 5 minutes with you.”
"The only code I can’t crack? How you make my heart race this fast.
Tucked inside your favorite book
“You're like the perfect algorithm: complex, beautiful, and always leaving me wanting to solve the equation that is you.”
On your desk after a long day
“You must have a gravity field around you, because I can't seem to stay away. P.S. Check under the desk, I might've added a small modification.”
Next to your coffee in the morning
"You must be a supernova, because you light up my entire galaxy."
Left on the keyboard of your laptop
“I may be fluent in over 6 million forms of communication, but none can express how much you mean to me. Except maybe binary: 01001001 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101.”
On a scrap of paper in your bag
“If life were an RPG, you’d be the rarest item—a perfect balance of stats, charisma, and intelligence. Also, +100 beauty.”
Tucked in between your sketchpad pages (if you're into art)
“You’re the canvas, I’m the artist... together, we create the perfect masterpiece. P.S. I’m still better at drawing starships though.”
Left in your lunchbox
“Did you know you increase productivity in starship repairs by 43% just by being near me? I’d call that a superpower.”
Taped to a little DIY gadget he made for you
“This little thing is just like you—ingenious and holds everything together. Also, try pressing the blue button for a surprise.”
Next to your favorite snack
“You’re like the perfect engineering schematic: flawless in design, and I can’t stop marveling at the details.”
In your locker
"I’d cross the Kessel Run in less than 12 parsecs just to see your smile."
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TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @erosmutt @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet (I have not forgot about you now ;) )
(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)
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girlkisser13 · 3 days
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taste
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"well, i heard you're back together and if that's true" "you'll just have to taste me when he's kissin' you"
pairings: theodore nott x slytherin afab!reader
warnings/tags: cheating.
summary: it just supposed to be a situationship.
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the summer had been a whirlwind of emotions, sneaky rendezvous, and stolen kisses. it was a memory now, fading with the warmth of the sun as autumn crept in, the cool breeze blowing through the stone corridors of hogwarts. but as the leaves turned golden and red, and the castle filled once more with the chatter of students returning for the new school year, one thing remained vivid and sharp in your mind: theodore nott.
you had spent almost every day with him over the summer, your bodies tangled together in the sweltering heat, sharing secrets and laughter under the stars. he had been everything you never thought he could be— gentle, sweet, and completely yours. at least, that’s what it had felt like. the outside world didn’t matter when you were together. it was just the two of you, and nothing else seemed real.
but now that you were back at hogwarts, everything was different. the castle walls that had once seemed so familiar now felt confining, oppressive. it didn’t help that theo had slipped back into his old life as if the summer had never happened. as if you had never happened.
you watched from the shadows as he walked through the great hall, his arm draped casually over pansy parkinson’s shoulders. she was laughing at something he’d said, her dark eyes shining with adoration as she looked up at him. and theo… he looked every bit the part of the perfect boyfriend. he was smiling down at her, his fingers playing with a strand of her hair as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
you swallowed hard, turning away from the sight, your stomach twisting with something you refused to call jealousy. you had known this would happen. He had warned you. when school started again, he would go back to his life with pansy, his girlfriend, the girl everyone expected him to be with.
but knowing it and seeing it were two different things.
you tried to avoid him as much as possible, keeping to the back of the classrooms, sitting far from the slytherin table in the great hall. you even skipped out on the first few gatherings in the common room, not wanting to see him with her, not wanting to see the way he looked at her with those familiar eyes that had once only been on you.
but, of course, you couldn’t avoid him forever.
it was during potions that it happened. professor snape was droning on about the properties of some obscure ingredient when theo slipped into the seat beside you, his presence sending a jolt of electricity through your body. you kept your eyes on your cauldron, refusing to acknowledge him, but you could feel his gaze burning into the side of your face.
"are you just going to ignore me all year?" he asked, his voice low, barely a whisper.
you clenched your jaw, your hands trembling as you stirred the potion in front of you. "what do you want, theo?"
he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "i just wanted to talk. you’ve been avoiding me."
you finally turned to look at him, your eyes narrowing. "can you blame me? you’ve been glued to pansy’s side since we got back."
his eyes softened, and for a moment, he looked like the boy you’d spent the summer with, the one who had held you close and whispered sweet nothings in your ear. "you know why i have to."
you bit back the retort that sprang to your lips, knowing it would do no good. you did know why. you knew all the reasons he had to be with her, to keep up appearances, to play the part of the dutiful boyfriend. but it didn’t make it hurt any less.
"whatever, theo. it doesn’t matter." you turned back to your potion, ignoring the way your heart clenched in your chest.
he reached out, his hand brushing against yours, and you almost pulled away, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. "it does matter," he whispered, his voice strained. "you matter."
you squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself not to cry. "if i mattered, you wouldn’t be with her."
there was silence, and then, "it’s not that simple."
you laughed bitterly, shaking your head. "it never is, is it?"
snape’s voice cut through the tension, snapping at someone across the room, and you took the opportunity to pull your hand away, focusing on the potion in front of you. you didn’t look at theo again for the rest of the class, and when the bell rang, you were the first to leave, not even waiting to clean up your station.
you needed space. space to breathe, to think, to forget the way his touch had sent shivers down your spine, the way his words had made your heart ache.
but space was hard to come by at hogwarts, and avoiding theo became even more difficult as the weeks went on. you’d catch glimpses of him in the corridors, his hand entwined with pansy’s, his lips pressing soft kisses to her temple. it was like a knife to the heart every time, but you kept your head down, kept to yourself, and tried to focus on anything other than the boy who had stolen your summer and then shattered it.
it wasn’t until a hogsmeade weekend that things came to a head.
you were browsing through the shelves of honeydukes, looking for something to satisfy your sweet tooth, when you saw them. theo and pansy were at the counter, pansy laughing as theo tried to haggle with the shopkeeper over the price of a box of chocolates. you rolled your eyes, turning away from the sight, but not before you saw him glance over at you, his eyes meeting yours for just a moment.
you could see the guilt there, the regret, and it made your blood boil. how dare he look at you like that, like he was sorry for something he had done to you, like he hadn’t been the one to walk away?
you grabbed a handful of sweets and marched up to the counter, slapping them down beside theo’s chocolates. pansy turned to look at you, her eyes narrowing as she recognized you.
"well, well, if it isn’t the little lost lamb," she sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. "what are you doing here, all alone?"
you forced a smile, ignoring the way theo tensed beside her. "just enjoying a bit of freedom, pansy. not everyone needs a boyfriend to hold their hand everywhere they go."
her eyes flashed, and you knew you had struck a nerve. she had always been possessive of theo, even before they had started dating. it was one of the things that had made sneaking around with him so dangerous— and so thrilling.
"maybe not, but at least i have one," she shot back, her lips curving into a smirk. she glanced at theo, her fingers curling around his arm. "right, darling?"
you had to hand it to her; she knew how to play the game. but so did you.
you leaned in closer, your eyes locked on hers as you dropped your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "you might want to check your boyfriend’s lips before you kiss him next time, pansy. he seems to have a thing for my strawberry lip gloss."
her face went pale, her eyes widening as she turned to look at theo, who was staring at you with something like horror in his eyes. she blinked, confusion and anger warring on her face as she looked back at you.
"what the hell are you talking about?" she snapped, her voice wavering.
you shrugged, stepping back and slipping a few sickles onto the counter for your sweets. "just a friendly piece of advice."
and with that, you turned on your heel and walked out of the shop, your heart pounding in your chest, a sick sense of satisfaction swirling in your stomach. you knew you had probably just signed your own death warrant, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
it was time theo made a choice.
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Gojo and Geto with bad bitch Chubby Reader
Guys, I tried to avoid being a Gojo stan...I tried so hard to hate him...but the pull was too strong. He got my ass. He's too silly. He's too cute the little shit. He's too perfect. Geto's great too before he lost his shit and went psycho the two are just too great to pass up.
2024 WILL BE THE YEAR THAT I GET YOU BITCHES TO PREACH STRONG, CONFIDENT, INDEPENDENT but not too independent bc these men are still yummy af CHUBBY READER! No longer will I be insecure about my weight because these men LOVE to see me coming AND going, I can tell you that.
WARNING: Fatphobia (happens when first meeting Gojo & Geto—they’re teens trying to bully Reader, but she handles herself because they’re idiots), A little angst with the small amount of bullying but I hope I made up for it, Cursing
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Imagine you, Gojo, Geto, and Shoko being classmates and friends during their schooling at Jujutsu High. All of you are powerful threats not to be taken lightly. The boys were undoubtedly freaks of nature with how strong they were—though, you had doubled over laughing alongside Shoko a couple of times when you heard them deem themselves "the strongest duo", as if they were some cool loner wolf types. Shoko was a master in the medicinal field; she made any injury look like a breeze to clean. She'd stitch them up no problem with her cursed energy and send them merrily on their way with a swift kick to their backside.
You definitely have more proficiency with cursed energy usage for combat more so than healing, but you could manage healing yourself just fine. You’d been born into a clan, not as highly revered as the Zenin or Gojo clans but still notable, so you’ve been taught from an early age how to wield cursed energy. Sacrificing yourself for the greater good of the world has been drilled into your head since birth, and you agreed with it. The world’s innocence needs to be protected from the cursed dangers life creates. Sure, there are bad people in the world, but the good people make life worth living. At least, that’s what you choose to believe.
While you’re just a normal—aside from the slight infinite power and jaw-dropping strength—girl, you are different in one more physical way. You’re chubbier than most, and not by a small bit.
Are you insecure about it?
Hell fucking no!
You’re a bad bitch. Fantastic face, banging body, stunning smile, bright eyes, a kind but strong heart, and even a cute butt to top it off. You knew this world inside out with how cruel it could be to plus sized folk, and while you took the beating for far too long without fighting back, you took a couple of steps back a few years ago to look at the situation. Why let people push you around like you didn’t matter? Why let them speak to you like you’re lesser than them simply because you weigh more? You were done being talked to like you were filth underneath their boots.
Since that new perspective, you’ve chosen the road of self love and hands rated E for everyone. You’re kind and sweet to those who reciprocate the respect. To those who try you, you beat their asses with a smile. “Education on Human Decency” is what you’ve begun to call the smackdowns since many want to try casting judgment in snide remarks or sneering looks. They can try these hands instead :)
That’s where Jujutsu High and the headaches you know as Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru fit into this philosophy of yours.
You were homeschooled by your clan in the first year of your sorcery high school. Though, after much begging for a change of scenery and yearning for social interactions other than your family and neighbors, they allowed you to go to a high school centered on jujutsu sorcery the next school year.
When you started Jujutsu High in your second year, that is where you met Shoko, Gojo, and Geto, your classmates. The first thought to cross your mind was how small this crowd was. Sure, it wasn’t like the classes you’ve had before had many students in them either; the world of curses and cursed energy wasn’t exactly a booming population to start with, especially when every year is the same class roster composed of the few brothers and sisters you had. Considering that, three new faces was much better than before! You introduced yourself with a joyful tone and an eager handshake.
You started with Shoko since she was the only other girl. You’re glad you did. Shoko, who you originally thought would be tricky to get along with since she gave off “rebel” vibes with that unlit cigarette dangling from her lips and you were nothing of the sort, held a grin and took your handshake with grace. She told you she liked your spunk, that it was nice to be around another girl rather than more stinking boys. You agreed with her with a relieved sigh. You two shared a laugh and chatted some more, each of you discussing your thoughts of the school and figuring out your mutual interests.
Soon enough, you were interrupted by someone giving a very noticeable and forced cough behind you. You turned and were met with two boys, one with jet black hair and a sly grin and the other one with silvery moonlight colored strands sharing the same expression hidden behind circular sunglasses. The white haired boy was leaning heavily on the black haired boy with one arm propped on his shoulder as the black-haired boy crossed his arms in front of himself. Seems like the two are close. No matter.
You stuck your hand out, another smile—admittedly, this one was a little more forced than the one you shared with Shoko—and gave your name. Suguru was the first to bite. He grabbed your hand with a smooth, warm grip, and exchanged his name. His shake felt sincere, though the cunning smirk still laid on his lips.
You tried to shake the other boy’s hand after letting Suguru go, but he decided otherwise. He swiftly with no mercy said he wasn’t going to shake hands with the likes of “you”. You raised an eyebrow, already sensing the insult he would try to hurl at you. One thing bullies are is predictable. None of them have any creative bone in their body, they’re like leeches, in a way. Mooching off other clever remarks they’ve heard used before through the Internet or their idiot friends. Though, they alway reproduce it much shitter than the first time they heard it.
He leaned in with a smile and yapped about how if he touches you, some of your fat might rub off on him. Gojo tries to drag Geto into bullying you too by shamelessly asking if Geto is worried that will happen to him now that he’s so brazenly touched you. As much as you wanted Suguru to be his own person, to be better than the loser clinging to him like a koala, he chimed in that while Gojo’s afraid of that, that that could never happen to him. He sneered while looking down at you that he actually has the discipline to keep the weight off. The two of them share an evil snicker together.
Oh, so that’s how they wanna play it.
Okay. You don’t mind showing a bitch their place.
As Shoko pipes up and tells them to shut the hell up, you stop her. You give her a kind smile that says “I love you, but please back the fuck up as I rock these bitches world”. Her eyebrows jump up in surprise, but she gives you a nod. She quiets down.
You choose to laugh with them. They slowly shut their mouths, finding laughing at you not that funny when you don’t crumple under their taunts like they’d expected. You then explain to them that what you find so funny is that punks like them are so easy to read and, subsequently, ruin. You told them they need to find better insults to steal if they wanna cackle like they’re some kind of drunk hyenas and, unless they get more creative, they’re not worth the air they take from others. You turned to walk away, but since you just couldn’t help yourself, you gave the both of them a swift kick to the chest. Unprepared for the action, they both were sent careening back, but remained standing. You also snarkily nagged that being “undisciplined in weight loss” gave you the extra weight to knock their scrawny asses back that far.
Shoko gave you a hearty high five while laughing at them getting what they deserve. Gojo, though baffled at your defiance, is ready to start throwing punches, as he spews half-assed insults left and right. Geto manages to keep his thoughts to himself, but you do note his expression has definitely become sour. This little scrap is swiftly interrupted by your new teacher, Masamichi Yaga, when he enters and orders the class to settle down. He also snuffs Gojo’s babbling tantrum with a merciless smack to his forehead.
You give a small grin stuck your tongue out at the two when Mr. Masamichi turned his back. From then on, it was war.
You, Geto, and Gojo fought constantly in the beginning
When they (mostly Gojo now) tried to stir shit with you, you’d fling their rudeness right back at them
Whether they tried to pick on your weight, or cheery personality, or strength (which they couldn’t make too much fun off since you were only a little less strong than they were, but so was everyone else compared to their insane powers), you were always ready to kick their asses
You didn’t resent them for their teasing, mostly since you had a good head on your shoulders and you know that Gojo’s only deflecting all the shit he hates about himself onto other people, but they sure got on your nerves sometimes
So, you decided soon into your acquaintance with these dopes that instead of simply beating their asses every time they said some wack shit and never correcting the behavior, you’re going put an end to their bullying of based on others appearances
Because, who knows. You have enough self love and confidence to defend yourself against their rude remarks, but not everyone does. What happens if they target other plus sized people who maybe can’t or won’t defend themselves?
So, when they’d try to make fun of you, you’d correct them with sincerity and help them understand why that would hurt to someone
Geto pretty much never made a passing comment like that again towards you. You’re happy to see that change in him
Gojo huffed and puffed after what he called “your lecture”, but you also saw change in him
After that, it was slow progress to all be friends
Shoko and you were doing great! Hanging out outside of school, dragging her along with you to do some window shopping, eating a sit down lunch together, going to the nearest bookstore, grabbing a yummy sweet treat, stargazing—you did it all together!
She always made a fuss that she had “no interest” in what you would force her to do, but you could secretly tell she liked doing girly stuff together. As long as she could have a smoke break in between these hang outs, she was all good
The first time you, Geto, and Gojo made a recovery in your rocky relationship was when they asked if they could come along with the two of you to get a treat together
You were a bit hesitant to share the thing that brings you joy with the two people who tried to make you the butt of the joke, but you threw them bone and agreed
You four walked down the sidewalk, mostly you chit chatting with Shoko, when Gojo butted his way into the conversation at your mention of Kikufuku.
You and him bonded over your mutual love of the delicate, bouncy sweet treat and you watched as his eyes sparkled like a little kid when you said the place you were going to had an excellent Kikufuku
You know, when Gojo isn’t being a menace, he’s actually nice to share a conversation with
Geto teased Gojo for his astounding sweet tooth, and explained to you an embarrassing story of Gojo losing his mind one time when a dog stole one of his dorayaki treats and ran off
You laughed as Gojo tried to hit Geto as payback for sharing the “secret” but Geto fended off his flailing
Maybe I'll come back to this idea one day when I'm not hung up on the bullying. If you guys like this idea, I might continue it with less bullying. I am a baby when it comes to angst lol. I really do love these boys, I just don't think my heart is ready for the subject matter I wrote.
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wwandaslover · 16 hours
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STRANGERS | W.M
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Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x F! Reader
Warnings: A bit angsty, swearing, fighting, short little fic bc I’ve been gone too long
Summary: Wanda’s trying to get her boys back and Doctor Strange comes to you for help, trying to get you to kill your ex wife. Wanda’s not happy that you’re in the way.
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You had been living your life as peacefully as you could ever since Thanos. You quit using magic, you moved across the country to Oregon. It was lonely.. but it was calm. You appreciated no longer having to put yourself under such immense stress, no longer fighting people and aliens, no longer worrying about stupid diets, no longer constantly feeling like you were going to die. It was amazing to be alone despite how boring it was.
You had heard about Westview from the news not long after moving to Oregon, and though it worried you to hear that Wanda was getting to such a horrible point, you couldn’t get involved and part of you didn’t want to. You and Wanda did not end on good terms, Wanda broke your heart. You were staying out of all of that shit, you were finally getting your well deserved lull.
It grew harder to not try and help Wanda the more you heard about her, you were constantly worrying about her wellbeing. Then to your luck, Doctor Strange showed up at your doorstep asking for help and disrupting your peace, telling you he had gone to Wanda and found out she’d been corrupted by the Darkhold, trying to kill America Chavez to go to her sons in another universe. It took him very little time to convince you to help.
He needed your help since you were one of the most powerful magic wielders, yet still not anywhere near Wanda’s level. Despite being stronger than you, Wanda couldn’t absorb your magic when used on her or it could kill her, you were a Green Witch. You wielded earthly magic while Wanda wielded chaos magic, and Strange wanted you to trick her into trying to absorb your magic.
You refused to kill the woman you had loved so dearly, instead you promised to help her. You wanted her to be happy and no longer hurt so much, despite how much you hated her for what she did to you.
+
Standing at Kamar Taj, seeing the dead bodies of sorcerers lying on the ground after Wanda used her magic to kill them all, seeing her walk over them like nothing.. it hurt you to see her now a shell of the woman she once was. Wanda stared at you with an icy glare as she stepped closer, annoyed that you were blocking her path to America.
Wanda laughed dryly “Of course, you’re the one they bring to stop me.”
You took a deep breath, swallowing thickly. Part of you wanted to hug her and the other wanted to punch her as hard as possible. You spoke calmly, “Wanda, I’m here to help you end this madness. I don’t want to fight you.”
Wanda hummed “I’m sure you don’t. You’d rather not die, I’m sure.”
You scoffed softly “I doubt you want to either.”
Wanda sighed in annoyance “You’re right, what I want is my sons. Now get out of my way.” She began stepping closer and you used your powers to push her back.
Wanda snarled and threw blasts of energy at you which you managed to dodge by a hair. Wanda lunged at you and grabbed you by the throat, squeezing your airways shut. You gasped and coughed, gripping her wrist, your eyes wide and full of shock. You kicked her harshly and Wanda instinctively let go.
Wanda stumbled back and shouted at you, “You little bitch, get out of my way!”
You coughed into your arm, glaring at her. Once your throat hurt a little less you shouted back, your voice slightly hoarse “Fuck you! You’re the one acting like a bitch!”
Wanda scoffed “You sound like a petulant child.”
You rolled your eyes at that, annoyed by Wanda’s comments “I have no idea how I put up with you for half a decade.”
Wanda raised a brow “You never complained about me when we were together, so I must’ve been alright.” Wanda pushed you aside and began walking inside the temple.
You caught her wrist and tried to pull her back but it didn’t quite work how you wanted it to, instead she simply dragged you along with her. After a few seconds Wanda looked back at you in annoyance. “Wh- are you seriously not going to let go of me? You know I’m just going to keep dragging you with me.”
You shrugged and tightened your grip on her wrist, trying to plant your feet on the ground but they simply slid over the stones as she dragged you. You got irritated by how your efforts fell flat, so you opted for tackling her. The two of you fell together and Wanda shouted, looking up at you “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
You couldn’t help but laugh as you held her down and Wanda was distraught by the sweet sound. It had been a long time since you laughed like that around her. Wanda swallowed thickly and tried to speak angrily, but sounded more nervous than anything, “Quit laughing! What’s so funny?”
You shook your head, still laughing softly at the situation. “This is all so stupid..”
Wanda’s jaw clenched and she quickly became angry again, mad that you had called it all stupid when she was struggling “I’m trying to get my sons back, how is that stupid?”
You furrowed your eyebrows, your laughter dying out. “I’m not saying that you losing your kids is stupid, I’m saying us fighting is stupid. I also think you’re stupid for believing this’ll work, for believing those boys would just accept you as their mother when they already have one. I mean seriously, you can’t truly believe that they’ll immediately love you, or ever love you for that matter. This won’t go your way.”
Wanda roughly pushed you off and stood up, glaring down at you “Stay out of my way. I don’t want to hurt you.” She began walking away but you used your powers to throw her back to the ground, walking over to her.
“You are not killing that innocent girl! You have no right! She’s just a child, she doesn’t deserve to die, or to go through any of this! Think of how terrified she is!” You yelled at her, angered by her lack of humanity and remorse.
“I need my boys, you don’t understand! You aren’t going to stop me!” Wanda sat up and yelled back, her eyes tearing up. She didn’t want to kill anyone, or hurt anyone.. she just needed her boys.
You stared down at her, wide eyed and in disbelief of how she was acting. “Wanda, you can still have a family in this universe!”
Wanda scoffed and stood up, stepping closer to you “And how on earth would I do that? I lost Vision, I lost my boys, I lost everything!”
Your heart ached when Wanda brought up Vision but not you. You were her first love, and apparently the least important. You ignored your own feelings and spoke, “There’s still someone out there in the world for you, somebody you can love and have a family with.”
Wanda shook her head, wiping away her tears away with a scoff. “I don’t want anybody else, I don’t want other children. I can’t just replace Vision and my boys.”
God, you wanted to strangle her for acting like this. You wanted to be understanding, but she was making it so much harder than it needed to be.
You snapped at her “I’m trying to help you find happiness somewhere in this universe instead of giving up on a life here and ruining a different version of yourself’s life, so quit acting like a fucking idiot!”
Wanda stared at you with widened eyes, surprised that you had actually gotten angry at her. You were usually not the type to get mad, but when you did it was always hard to ignore.
Wanda muttered “Calm down, there’s no need to get so-“
You cut her off by yelling at her “You’re so goddamn selfish! You are condescending, controlling, possessive, overly protective, you are so infuriating and yet here I am trying to help you all because I care about you, and I still love you, but I also fucking hate you at the same time!”
Wanda sputtered slightly, her eyes still wide. Her expression was a mix of concern and shock, concerned because you were so upset, and shocked by what you had just said. You still loved her after four years of being apart.
“Are you serious?” Wanda scoffed. It had been years, you had to be over her. She didn’t want you to keep loving her, especially not after what she had done both to you and other people. She wasn’t a good person and you were.
You scoffed back, mocking her “Yes, obviously, I’m being serious. Can you quit being such a dick now?”
Wanda hated that you were still in love with her, she wanted you to move on and she wanted to move on as well. No matter how much she loved Vision he couldn’t fill the hole in her heart from leaving you. She didn’t feel worthy of your love, or your help, not after what she did. How she left you so heartbroken and then she just went and got together with Vision. She felt horrible for what she had done to you back then, and she felt horrible for leaving you again now, knowing she should immediately go back to you and mend your broken relationship, she could experience happiness for the first time in months, but she wouldn’t.
Wanda thought for a moment and decided to just ignore the whole situation, turning away and continuing to walk. “I’m going to get my boys back.” she muttered.
You watched her with now tearful eyes, your jaw clenched and your breathing turning shaky. You were done trying to help her. You shouted after her, “I’m going to finish this whether you come out dead or alive, Wanda!”
Wanda’s heart hurt from your words, but she kept walking. She still felt great love for you, but she needed Tommy and Billy. She needed them more than she needed anything else, even you. You knew that, and watching her disappear into the temple made your heart squeeze in your chest, you knew you had lost her but you weren’t going to give up on saving America from Wanda.
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I kinda wanna make a part two but I dont know, also I have three other WIPs I’m working on. 😓
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blkluci · 2 days
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idk if your taking requests but i literally js read your mha boys seeing you fight and fell in love and i was wondering if you could do a part 3 with hawks, dabi, and iida or anyone else you’d like pls
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𝒎𝒉𝒂 𝒃𝒐𝒚/𝒎𝒆𝒏 and you fighting pt.3...
CHARACTERS ) keigo tamaki, toya dabi todoroki, tenya iida.
PLOT ) a headcannon of the boy/men seeing you fight.
A/N ) thankk youuu anon for the request!! glad you've been enjoying it :) sorry it took so long to fill. i'm so happy that everyone is enjoying this series. lmk if y'all want me to do a different fandom! :3 my requests are always open, so don't be shy y'all <33
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[ 𝐊𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐎 ] hawks is a walking chick magnet—nopunintended. but he's he made that EXTREMELY clear in multiple interviews; he only wants you. so, it makes no sense when his random girl pushes up on him talkin' bout sum‰—"HE'S MINE." she followed you guys around for too long and hawks asked her to politely stop. when she insisted to not leave him alone, you intervened. didn't go to we for her according to him.
... you've been patient enough
... when she twisted her mouth to say something disrespectful you took off
... your fist connected with them nasty thin lips
... keigo's distress signals in his body weren't working properly
... he didn't know whether to pull you off her and cheer
-> "get In the paint!"
... his chants fuel the punches
... the girl tried the cover her face but your hulk hands still found it
-> "LOOK WHAT HAPPEN TO YOU NOW!"
... you was whoppin' her like you had real issue
... kei was really really amused
... but being that you guys were in public, he didn't want trouble for you
-> "okay baby, i think you got enough hits in."
... right before you let go off her bald head, you landed one for good measures on her nose
-> "DON'T LEMME SEE YOU AGAIN!"
... keigo was chuckling as he covered you guys with his wings and snuck away
... in the secluded area he admired your features
… your face was untouched but a bit of dirt on your shirt
-> "you did her real dirty babe."
-> "so?"
... he smirked
-> "she gonna have bruises for a while."
-> "her problem."
... damn
... that's kinda hot to him
... he chuckled
-> "so cruel. i love you."
… you gave a confused concerned face
… he didn’t care. judge him all you want!
… HE AINT ASHAMED
[ 𝐃𝐀𝐁𝐈 ] toya hasn’t been with many women in his lifetime. but he’s been with one before you. he’s never mentioned it because he ain’t like her. so randomly, when she decided to take it upon herself and text him to leave you. mind you, he been blocked her on everything. he obviously doesn’t entertain, care nor does he want to or have to energy to deal with her. so he gave you the phone and you told her line it up.
… miss girl was BOLD
… she dropped that address with quickness
… so being an amazing and supportive boyfriend
… he took you to her
… as soon as the car pulled up you called her
-> “come outside, we not gon jump you.”
… dabi chuckled
… he sat on the car hood with his hands in his pants
… he made sure he pull out that phone too
-> “don’t beat her up too bad.”
-> “no promises!”
… shawty buss through the doors and ran up on you
… just to get kicked
… dabi almost fell out on the car
… you was putting beat to ahhhhh bruh
-> “ damn. damn. damn.”
… your hits echoed all down the dark street
-> “betcha won’t try it again!”
… dabi seen you fight before but not with typa anger and adrenaline
… your fist moving like lightning fast to her face
… you damn near pull her head off with how hard gripped her hair
-> “GET UP! GET UP!”
… next thing he know you pick her up like some WWE champion and body slam her
-> “OH!”
-> “DUMMY.”
… he didn’t know what to say but snaked his arm around your shoulder with a smirk
-> “where’d you learn that? how you know how to do that.”
-> “i’ll never tell.”
… he looks at you with a straight face
… them blue eyes damn near glowed in the dark
… like gojo
-> “you always doin’ that.”
-> “i love you too.”
… he rolled his eyes
… now he gotta go beat twice cause he knows he taught you that
[ 𝐈𝐈𝐃𝐀 ] mr. idc-ima-tell really ain’t have no romantic past. he does however have haters. boys and girls but he’s mr. don’t-care! so guess what, he don’t care! but some people really be bold out here. just like this ragamuffin boy that try to fight him. so what’d you do? JUMP THE HELL IN! you like corbin fr. but what makes no sense is why this girl would jump in. yeah she got dealt with.
… iida really didn’t have much time to react he could only swing
… you watched with the boy put his booger hands on your pootie, you wasn’t having it
… you punch the random in the back of his fathead
… iida notice that the weigh was off him
… but then he see it’s you
-> “Y/N!”
… all of a sudden!
… some shawty doo-wop run up
… iida pulled the guy off you and punch him in the jaw
… boy got slumped
… you and the girl tho
… y’all still going!
-> “WHAT YOU THOUGHT THIS WAS!?”
-> “y/n! come on, let her go.”
-> “HELL NO! RUN UP AND STILL BEAT YOU !”
… poor girl was scattering on the floor like a roach
… you was giving her that work!
… twisted every way but sideways
… iida eventually pulled you back
-> “calm down, please. you’ve been her up.”
-> “MAKE SURE SHE DONT TRY IT AGAIN!”
… the girl was limping walking away
-> “she won’t! i’ll make a complaint to aizawa and principal nezu."
… he was livid , but he needed to make sure you were okay
… so he asked if you guys could have the day off
… ofc he was granted permission
… so yall went to eat and chat
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Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be afraid, for I am your God. I will strengthen you; I will help you; I will hold on to you with my righteous right hand. (‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭41‬:‭10‬ ‭CSB‬‬)
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ssentimentals · 1 day
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seventeen members as love tropes: xu minghao
enemies to lovers
'you're not mine but wouldn't you want to be?'
minghao tries is hardest to stay calm but all these higher ups are making it really hard. he turns to look at you and the sight of your hunched back and bitten raw lips makes him boil. are you two friends? no, far from it. minghao is very aware of the whole 'enemies' agenda that is happening between you both, but does he want to see you like this? nervous, agitated, scared? no. fucking hell, no. he wants to see you burning with passion, wants to see that fire in your eyes whenever you two argue - minghao feels like he's been punched in the chest when he realizes that he's ready to kill just for you to not look this scared.
'can we wrap this up?' he voices out loud, not bothering to hide his annoyance. 'i don't see any point in this.'
'it'd be wise for you to be more polite and remember who you are talking to, xu minghao.'
he sees how you cringe at this, how your hands ball up into fists at the way that man spoke to him. understanding that you are angered on his behalf warms minghao up; it feels incredibly nice to know that you care. he keeps his mouth shut, lets managers drag on about the issue and takes two step in your direction, stopping when your shoulders brush. you tense up at first, sending him a questioning glance but he only stays put to which you reply with a rejected sigh. they lecture him and then start lecturing you and minghao can't just stand still when you're obviously fuming. they are being rude to you and the words are out of his mouth before he can think them through: 'don't talk to her like that.' your sharp intake of breath kind of wakes him up and he stares ahead at all the managers, who all look shell shocked.
'you have no right to talk to her like that.' minghao pushes in a clipped tone. 'she did her best and so did i, our timing got fucked up but it's not our fault. don't speak to her in that tone.'
shortly after you get pulled away by other people and minghao is in for another 30 minutes of lecturing. by the time he finally gets out of that stuffy room, he feels like he wasted ten years of his life on nothing. he sighs, stretches and is about to turn when soft steps stop him. he knows it's you even before you call out his name.
'why did you do that?' you ask, squinting at him. 'why the sudden hero act?'
'it wasn't an act,' he says, rolling his eyes. god, he's so tired. 'but you're welcome.'
'i haven't asked for it,' you spit out, obviously angered. 'i don't need your pity.'
minghao turns around, raising his eyebrow. 'i have never pitied you,' he says strongly, feeling himself getting worked up again as some stupid side effect on you being close. 'can't you just say 'thank you' and move on?'
'i don't need your help!' you hiss. 'i haven't asked for it!'
and - only you can make minghao want to both bang his head on the wall from frustration and laugh like a maniac. he sometimes wants to step closer, pull you into his arms and... he doesn't know. part of him wants to strangle you for being so damn difficult all the fucking time, but another part wants to smash your mouths together so you can finally shut up. minghao is aware of how unhealthy it is just as he is aware of how often your gaze falls on his lips or his biceps. it's good to know he's not the only one who's gone mad. they say it's a fine line between hatred and love and for minghao right now this line is so thin that he barely see it anymore. is it the same for you? he wants to ask, but instead he says: 'why you didn't stop me then? you always could just interrupt me over there but you didn't say a thing. if you don't need my help why i was the one who you turned to when authorities came? you didn't say anything but you searched for me with your eyes, don't even try to deny it.'
five steps. that's the distance that separates you two and minghao thinks it's fitting. he can take two and then you can take two and then maybe you'll play game of chicken on that last step. but you surprise him with taking all those five steps yourself, storming onto him with fire in your eyes that he loves so much. 'you're not the one to talk, minghao. you think i don't know that it was you who asked everyone to wait up for me? who brought medicine to my team when i fell sick?' you try to push him on his chest but minghao easily catches you wrist in his, not letting you move. 'let me go.'
'that's not what you want.' he says in a calm tone that doesn't show all the hurricane which's happening inside of him.
reality of how close you two are standing dawns on you. jerkily, you try to step back but his hold on you is too strong. 'let me go,' you whisper, voice wavering. 'hao, let me go.'
hao. 'that's not what you want,' minghao whispers and lets his other hand wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer to his chest. 'tell me what you really want, angel.' he sees how you shudder at the petname and smiles, leaning in. he lets go of your wrist, locking his arms around you instead. 'you can go if you want.' he leans in, brushing your noses together. 'or you can stay. and i can never, ever let you go. which i think is what you actually want.'
it's brave. it's bold, it's brazen and - it works. your body sags in his arms and you hide your face in his neck, hugging him back. 'prick,' you mutter into his neck, raising goosebumps where your lips touch his skin. 'self absorbed asshole.'
'yeah,' minghao easily agrees, hugging you tighter. 'prick, self absorbed asshole that i will never, ever let you go.'
a/n: this one is a bit vague but i couldn't figure out how to write this for the live of me. i hope this was okay? let me know! - nini
my seventeen works are here
my formula 1 works are here
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frannyzooey · 23 hours
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In The Dark: One Shot
Series Masterlist
Ezra x m!reader
Rating: E (filth and yearning, my friends)
Summary: Six weeks after Birdie has left, a glimpse into how Ezra tries to forget.
A/N: all the thanks to my bestie in crime, @the-scandalorian who said “when will this freak be in MY sheets” and she was so real for that ❤️
--
It’s been over a month, and the wound is still raw. 
He’s tried to keep busy in so many ways: driving further for deliveries, taking on harder jobs that tire him out, seeking out his friends for a few drinks or a movie or dinner. Anything to keep him from reaching for his phone to text you or call you. 
Distractions, which is what he needs tonight. 
The itch to grab his phone is strong, so he grabs his keys instead. Stuffs his wallet in his back pocket, some condoms in the front. Steps out into the dusk and with a quick, restless stride, makes his way towards the nearest station. The train is crowded, not unusual for a Friday night and so are the streets when he gets off: streams of pairs, of groups, of single people like him all headed their way somewhere. 
A thought pops into his mind, the way you used to wonder aloud where everyone was going. You used to watch them from your window, the steam from the tea clutched in your hands curling into the air, and for a brief, painful moment, he sees it. Your profile, your cheeks stretched with a grin, your hand patting the cushion next to you, beckoning him closer. In nothing but a tank top and your underwear, you’re a vision – a literal one that he shakes free as he opens the door to the bar.
It’s loud, but that’s good. 
It doesn’t take him long to find someone. He’s never one to be shy about looking at someone with blatant want, and it takes only a few minutes before the man approaches him. It’s only been men since you left. He can’t bear the touch of another woman, with all their softness and sweetness and curves. He needs a hardness that matches his own: rough kisses, harsh grips. 
Ezra orders the man a beer to match the one he’s finishing off, and they talk for a while, leaning on the bar. He’s a drummer in a band, here to see his friend play. He’s got intricate tattoos that run the length of his arms, molding to the sinewy muscles. He’s got eyes so rich with depth that Ezra finds himself drawn in the longer they talk, empty bottles being replaced with fresh, full ones. 
He’s not you, and that’s perfect. 
A bundle of cash is thrown down on the countertop, and Ezra follows the man out of the bar, letting him guide him back to his place, just around the corner. The apartment is sparse in the way men’s often are. A couch, a coffee table, a couple of pieces of art on otherwise bare walls. Not as many books as Ezra would like to see, but that’s okay. He’s not here for intellectually stimulating conversation. 
He’s here to fuck. 
He’s here to forget the fact that he would rather be in someone else’s apartment, surrounded by their stacks of books, among other things that made it feel so cozy and lived in. So warm, just like the cloud of your bed, or the cradle of your thighs or – 
“You want a drink?” the man offers, standing next to his open fridge. 
Ezra shakes his head, coming closer. He reaches out, gently pushing the door shut. 
“No,” he replies. “Just you.”
The man’s bed is nothing like yours, but that’s okay. 
The sheets aren’t as soft and it doesn’t smell as sweet, but it does have a willing body with a tight hole and that’s all that matters right now. Something to turn his brain off for the night, to numb the deep ache that’s settled between his ribs. 
He aches now, but in a different way. A sweet, heavy ache deep in his balls as he tries not to come in the tight, wet fist of this man’s ass. The stranger is on his hands and knees, his back arched to take every one of Ezra’s rough thrusts, rocking back to meet every snap of his hips. His groans are deep and loud, his hands clenched in the plain sheets stretched over his mattress and Ezra runs a hand down his spine, his fingers splayed over his lower back. 
Tattoos extend all the way up to his shoulders and wrap around his ribcage. His body is gorgeous – all lean muscles and smooth skin; Ezra’s touch fits between his ribs along his sides as he bends forward to tug the man up. 
The stranger molds his back to Ezra’s front, and Ezra keeps a hand cradled at the base of his throat and fucks him harder, letting out his low, labored grunts into the nape of his sweat damp neck. His body is hard against Ezra’s, nothing like yours. When Ezra’s arm wraps around his front, he feels firm, flat planes instead of lush, weighted breasts. When his hand smoothes down the man’s torso, he feels a flat belly covered in scattered hair instead of plush, rounded softness. When Ezra’s hand dips lower, it wraps around a thick, stiff cock instead of finding a seam of wet, slick warmth. 
The man’s hand joins Ezra’s, the two of them pumping his cock in time with the beat of Ezra’s hips. Ezra wants something slicker, something to make the drag better, and he lets go, bringing his hand up to the man’s mouth. The man opens, sucking Ezra’s fingers in down to the knuckle, and they groan together, Ezra’s cock jerking inside. Ezra can feel the vibration of his hum around the thick digits and pulls them out of his mouth, bringing them back down to the man’s cock. 
“Fuck,” he groans when Ezra wraps him with a firm, slick hold, jerking him root to tip. He adds a slight twist to the motion, something he loves to do to himself, and when the man’s broad frames melt against Ezra’s, he grins. He pumps his fist faster, feeling the man clench around his cock, and when the man’s groans start to get louder, Ezra’s pace picks up. 
Sweat beads along his neck, and Ezra licks it up with a flat lave of his tongue. “It feels good, doesn’t it?” Ezra croons in his ear. 
When the man doesn’t answer, Ezra scrapes his teeth along the corded muscle, biting down. 
“Yes! Yes, fuck yes, it feels good. Jesus Christ. Fuck me.” 
The man is near babbling, his cock thickening in Ezra’s hold, beads of pre-come leaking steadily from the thick, rounded tip and Ezra swipes through the pearly mess, bringing his hand to his mouth. He sucks the sticky slick off the pad of his fingers, and lets out a lewd, deep groan into the man’s ear. The man whimpers, letting his head tip back against Ezra’s shoulder. 
Ezra’s got him cradled on his lap, his hand back on the man’s cock to finish him off, and when he starts to come with a shout and a steady stream of thick cum seeping through Ezra’s fingers, he digs his fingers into Ezra’s thighs, forcing himself down on Ezra’s lap to bury him as deep as he’ll get. 
Ezra’s chest is heaving, his body aching with the need to come, every muscle strung as tight as the hold he has on the man’s hair. He’s rough with him: pushing him forward on his hands and knees, digging into his hips with a harsh grip, pounding into the curve of his ass hard enough to bruise. His fingers dig into the crown of the man’s hair with a tug, and Ezra closes his eyes, teetering on the edge of his own release. 
The curve of your plush ass, the dig of your tiny fingers, the weight of your smaller frame enveloped by his. Your softer moans, the scent of your shampoo and your skin and the touch of your hair when he buries his face in it and the slick, tight warmth of your cunt or your ass as his hips jerk upwards – 
And then he comes, burying himself deep. 
He drops forward, catching his breath for a moment, resting his hands on the bed as his cheek rests on the man’s shoulder, and when he eases himself out, he feels slightly smug at the hiss he hears him let out.
“That was…a lot. Fuck, man,” the stranger laughs, breathless and sated. He drops down onto the bed, splaying out. His fingers dance along his tattooed stomach while he watches appreciatively as Ezra stands, tugging the condom off and knotting it. 
“The bathroom is over there.” The man waves his hand in the direction of the hallway.
In the tiny room, Ezra washes his hands and stares at himself in the mirror. He looks tired, even with his cheeks flushed with heat. 
His balls are empty, but so is everything else. 
He doesn’t stay long after that. A quick press to the man’s lips at his front door, a half-hearted promise to see him again sometime. He knows he probably won’t. 
He feels tired on his walk back home, his limbs drained of their restless energy, which is what he wanted – so he isn’t sure why he feels so..unsatisfied. Like he didn’t just fuck someone until they both finished. He wonders briefly if you’ve fucked anyone since you’ve been gone, and he immediately rebels against the thought…even though he knows he doesn’t have any right to. 
He just did, didn’t he? 
He wonders if you miss him like he misses you. If your world is tinted in Ezra-colored glasses like his is tinted in yours. If you also lay awake at night, staring at your face-down phone on your night stand, willing it to light with a text. 
He said he would give you time and space and he meant that. Christ, he did. He wouldn’t even be mad if you went out and had fun and fucked someone because that’s what he wants for you – to be young, to embrace this opportunity, to have those experiences. 
He just wishes it was still with him. 
Letting himself in the front door, he heads straight for the shower. Stripping his clothes, he stands under the steaming pressure, dropping his head between his shoulders. He lets the steady stream beat down on his back, washing the sweat of someone else off his skin. 
He sees a flash of your open mouth moaning in pleasure, your skin sliding against the shower tiles, and frustrated, he slams the water off. His cock comes to life, half hard between his thighs, and he ignores it, toweling off. 
Pulling on sweats, he should be tired enough to sleep after a fuck like that, but he heads in the direction of the living room instead, grabbing a beer on the way there. Slumping into the couch, he clicks the TV on. He pulls up his phone, swiping open the weather app. 
LONDON: 46F / 7C, 3AM 
The bright light of the TV illuminates his profile, and he sighs, setting the phone down. 
Are you in your bed? In someone else’s?
Hoping you’re safe, he slouches into the cushions and settles in for a sleepless night.
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xazse · 8 hours
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hiii pookie I LOVED your hybrid post like it got me foaming from the mouth ngl 🫶 you're so talented!!
If you're into it, can we get cowhybrid! reader and Farmer!Gojo specifically please and thank you? I need to see the reader all needy and desperate and Gojo being the only one who can truly give her release and and what she truly needs (feel free to remix or add anyone/anything that you please)
If you're not into it, please ignore this ask instead of refusing because I get embarrassed hihi🎀🫶 anyways mwah mwah love u take care pookie
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ANOTHER TRY?
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Notes: THANK YOU FOR THE COMPLIMENTS IM GLAD YOU ENJOYED MY WORK!!! and to the second ask I’m very happy you requested that bull!hybrid work lLOVEDDD WORKING ON IT!! You guys are so creative I need to eat ur brain!!! THIS IS FOR ALL THE OTHER PEOPLE WHO HAVE BEEN ASKING FOR A PT2 I SEE YOU GUYS!!! (IF UR READING THIS TO MY OTHER INBOX OFC YOU CAN BE 🪬 ANON!!)
Pairings: CowHybrid!Reader x Farmer!Gojo
Warnings: Lactation + big!boobedReader + implied chubby!reader + nipplesucking + grinding + mean!Satoru + pussy!slapping + teasing.
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Gojo has spoiled you for far too long it makes his blood boil and temples wrinkle when you continue to go see Toji and Suguru, it becomes a habit for you to come back in the early mornings after having a night of “fun.”
Confronting said men proved to be so fucking useless, they just laughed in his face when he said he’d kick both of them to the curb should they continue to corrupt you.
“You need us Satoru, why are you allowed to have your nightly routines but she cant? It was gonna happen eventually.” Tojis face was decorated with a fat sneer, all those times he tried to make sure you stayed as far as possible were all for naught, it’s hilarious seeing him seething behind a cool facade.
“Never knew what Toji seen in the woman but now I completely understand his point.” Suguru yelled from where he was transporting some wood.
Talking to them proved to be useless, as a little payback he made them clean the shed from top to bottom.
Trudging back to the main house in his thick boots Satoru comes to face you relaxing on the couch without a damn care in the world.
Why is he trying to get them to be on his level when he should be punishing you, you’re the one who didn’t listen, you’re the one sneaking out every night. He doesn’t know why he feels this hold on you, you’re such a beautiful girl that he can’t help but keep you in this small bubble.
When your eyes land on him you don’t say any kind of greeting, simply ignoring his presence for the movie on the huge ass tv he bought for you and eating the expensive food he bought for you.
You look extremely good right now, your fat boobs not swollen, but your pretty lips are. Satoru won’t say it but his pants tighten at the thought of what they do to you.
He needs you right now, he’ll make it up to you as much as he can.
He approaches you calmly and collected, sitting down at the edge of the couch where your legs are propped up, you still don’t acknowledge him. His trained hands start circling on your soft supple skin, you surprisingly don’t push him away. You give Satoru an inch he’ll take a mile.
He starts groping your thighs, the pudgy things hold within the creases of his hand. He pushes your thighs apart and gets a good look at your panties: you always choose to walk around the house like this.
They’re extra tight the way they emphasize your fat pussy, the groan that slips from his lips aren’t-something he tries to hold back, he needs you to know how much he wants you, especially wants you all to himself.
The rise and fall of your chest makes you look so cute, why are you so shy all of a sudden? You’re averting your eyes as well.
Satoru starts teasing your clothed folds, dragging his thick finger up and down, he pushes extra hard on your clit eliciting a small moan from you. He continues this for a little, he needs you wet to take him properly.
He peels off your soddened panties and positions himself above you, finally face to face with you. Your boobs are the first thing he attacks, pulling on your shirt and letting them spill out, the little droplets of milk call to him. He’s grabbing one and putting it into his mouth: he loves your taste so sweet like honey as it cascades down his throat so smoothly.
“Nghm… Toru..” finally you’ve decided to grace him with your sultry voice.
He bites down a little on your nipple making you jump away. He reels you right back in and sucks even harsher, there’s barely any milk left but he’s going to make sure he gets his full.
“Toru.” You call his name so panicked and yet you’re grinding against his fully hard cock. He’s so desperate in the moment that he unbuckles his belt and lets his cock bob free.
His fat tip prods agaisnt your folds, messing with your sticky wetness, he smears it on his tip even grinding down on your clit, but he doesn’t put it in, you don’t deserve that.
He teases you, pretending he’s going to give you what you want just to take it all away.
“Please…” a harsh and loud smack is delivered straight to your clit, you yelp and buckle your legs closed.
“Shirt, take your shirt off.” He commands, of course you’re gonna listen, Satoru has never taken that tone with you.
Your boobs now freely spill for him to gaze at. He spreads your legs back open.
“I’m gonna give you ten slaps, close your legs for even one I’m restarting. Understood?” You nod and your ears move along with it. He likes this look on your face: confusion, arousal and a little bit of fear.
On the first slap you make the mistake of shutting your legs closed: completely an accident but he’s having none of it, he hits your little clit again and again.
“Ahn..” you’re still so fucking wet by the sixth slap, creating a nasty mess that drips to your ass. Gojo’s cock is still throbbing, he jerks himself off, smearing his pre all over.
By the tenth slap you’re gone, completely dazed and only able to whine outloud, he decides that you’ve had enough with the tears that sit on your eye line. He pushes your legs back and lines his weeping tip. The feeling of sliding into your sopping wet cunt is better than any pussy he’s ever had.
His strokes against you are fast even though he should be letting you adjust, the sounds of skin against skin meeting each other is downright lewd.
He tells you to rub your nipples, it adds so much more stimulation that you can’t find it in you to hate it.
His cock drags agaisnt your walls over and over, till you can’t feel anything but the sensitivity of your nipples and the twitching of his fat cock.
He fucks you like that all night, even when you’re meant to meet Toji and Suguru, you can’t stop creaming around farmer Gojos length and nor do you want to.
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tripleyeeet · 2 days
Text
AND HER MIND WAS ON ME
SUMMARY: Yuki decides to let Choso come and play with her girlfriend. PAIRING: Choso Kamo/Yuki Tsukumo/Female Reader WARNINGS: 18+ sexual content, voyeurism, penetrative sex, use of a strap, orgasm denial (if you squint), basically just Choso being a desperate mess wanting to fuck reader. A/N: Originally this was supposed to be for Kinktober but due to the insane schedule I just got from my work that's probably not happening anymore. So, I figured I'd post this so it doesn't go to waste. :') Title inspired by Voyeur by James Blake :) WC: 750
MASTERLIST
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“You okay, Cho?”
The sound of your voice cuts through him like a knife. The soft coo of breathless lungs pulling him out of his own stupor as he pants. 
Laid before him are both you and Yuki. The image of bare chests and legs creating a heat throughout his body he can’t sweat out. The kind that already has him squirming on the edge of the bed; digits twitching to grip the sheets beneath him so tight he swears he hears the sound of them crack.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” 
He doesn’t know how he manages to speak, but he does. The sound of his own voice muffling in his mind as his gaze shifts from body to body, eventually trailing up to see thick silicone pushing through your folds. Both of you are lying on your sides, back to front while Yuki’s arm —toned and heavy-handed—wraps around your neck as she nips at your ear and laughs. 
“You like when Choso watches, baby?” she asks, and truthfully, it takes everything Choso has not to slip in between and take his fill in that moment. The temptation nearly breaking him, especially when he watches your lips start to part slowly; the sensations you feel taking over your mind as you let out a hearty breath. 
It makes his chest ache, witnessing such a sudden pull of air mixed with the push of the strap entering your cunt —rendering you useless until you find it in yourself to nod. The vulgar sight causing Choso’s hands to start to fiddle with the fabric. Each of his fingers rubbing the texture of silk between each pad, pretending they’re you. Imagining that instead of Yuki gently fucking you with that god-awful piece of plastic it’s him instead; fingers and all providing you with the pleasure you need. The feel of your back pressed roughly against his chest filling him with an intense need for more. 
At which point, he hears you whimper from the impact. Each shift of the strap making you squirm beneath the blonde’s touch. Visions of arms and legs struggling to get away from the brutalizing pace she quickly sets appearing in Choso’s view. 
With a huff, it forces him to throw all caution to the wind and move one hand to cup his cock, gently rubbing it through his clothes. Allowing the tension you’ve built to ever so slightly subside when he feels that initial pressure release. The presence of something to grind against as he tries to remember to breathe.
Unfortunately, though, it’s not enough. Not when he can see Yuki violently snapping her hips while saying his name; reminding you to put on a good show for him. No, at that point he has to go a bit further and slip beneath his waistband to properly touch himself. The feel of his already hard cock twitching before he even has the chance to wrap himself around the base.
Which is an act that proves almost futile when he hears Yuki laugh, prompting his eyes to flicker up and see the arm that’s wrapped around her neck move to grip your jaw. The sheer force of her fingers jutting it over to catch his eye, making you whimper. 
“Look,” she says then, smirking as she watches your gazes line up. Both of you staring each other down as she fucks you while he fucks himself. Your respective pleasures building when he catches the rhythm of your breath and starts to match it. “Already so desperate for you. Can’t even wait until I’m finished.”
Swallowing hard, he feels his chest begin to gradually empty. Each pass of air within his lungs failing to return when he rubs his thumb over his head, already feeling the warm stick of pre-come collecting on the very flesh he wants to put inside you. 
“Cho?”
This time, Yuki addresses him. Unlike before though, he doesn’t look at her. Instead, he just stares at your face, memorizing each moment of tension that builds as he hums in response, hoping that’s enough. 
“Cho, sweetheart, I need you to wait, okay? You’ll get your turn, I promise.”
All he does is nod, keeping hold of himself but doing nothing else, knowing he can’t. Not when the promise of you all spread apart for him to fuck is waiting in the wings. Or when he can see that faint flicker of desire in your eye when you ultimately come, knowing you’re in for another round.
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redrose10 · 2 days
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#5 from the picture game
Warnings: Swearing, mention of suggestive stuff, maybe cheating
Thanks for the request!
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“I hate him! I hate him! I hate him.”, you shrieked throughout your small apartment after throwing your bag down on the floor. Your roommate, Sarah, concerned with all the commotion came walking out to see what was going on with you.
“Bad day?”, she questioned.
“Min Fucking Yoongi.”, you spat.
She sighed, “What did he do now?”
“Alright class, you’re going to work in small groups of two or three for this project. Pair up on your own and I’ll send around the sign up sheet for you to write down your names. Remember this project will count for 80% of your grade so it’s kind of a big deal and shouldn’t be taken lightly.”
You scanned around the room making eye contact with Namjoon. He nodded before getting up and making his way over to you. You felt relief that you would be working with not only one of the smartest guys in the school but also someone who was respectful and reliable. For some reason this school seems to have attracted every arrogant fuckboy within a 500 mile radius and you hated it.
Namjoon took a seat next to you but before he could speak someone else cleared their throat.
The leader of said fuckboys was standing right in front of you like you had summoned him by thinking too much about him. You bit your lip so hard you tasted blood.
“Hey Yoongi! Want to join our group?”, Namjoon happily asked oblivious to the tension in the air.
“He can’t. He’s already working with Tia.”, you gritted through your teeth. You knew she was a regular of Yoongi’s. Yoongi looked over at the woman who was trying to look seductive but looked more like she was in pain than anything.
“Nah we’re kind of going through a thing right now.”
Namjoon chuckled, “I get it man. You can work with Y/N and I. It’s not problem.”
Yoongi took a seat and pretended to listen to Namjoon as he came up with a game plan while you sat there and stewed in your anger. You knew Yoongi wasn’t going to lift a finger while you and Namjoon did everything yet he’d still be given a good grade.
Before you knew it class was over and Namjoon said his goodbyes before quickly running off to his next one.
You were angrily packing up your bag when you heard Yoongi speak.
“Y/N are you not going to speak to me this entire project? We have to work together.”, he asked.
You scoffed, “No we don’t. You and I both know you’re going to flake and it’ll be all on Namjoon and I to do all the work so why don’t you just do us a favor and get lost already.”
Yoongi stood up and leaned slightly over your desk, “Maybe you should get laid for once. You need to get some of that bitchiness fucked out of you.”
And with that he was gone and out the door leaving you red faced and so angry you couldn’t think straight for the rest of the day even once you finally walked through your front door.
Sarah chuckled only infuriating you more. “Y/N I get it. Yeah that was a really shitty thing to say but you do always seem to be the one to start things with him. Maybe him and Tia really are going through something and you two were the only option to work with. I just don’t know why you have this extreme hatred for the guy.”, she said after seeing your upset face.
You rolled your eyes before heading to your room and flopping down on your bed.
Was Sarah right? Are you the instigator? And if you are then you’re sure that he deserved it 99% of the time anyways.
Ever since the first day you met him he has been a thorn in your side.
You met Yoongi in Kindergarten. He sat behind you and would constantly pull on your ponytail and when you turned around he’d just sit there with a big smile. You complained to your parents who told you he probably just had a crush on you but that you should ask him to stop if you didn’t want him to do that any more.
Then in the fifth grade he was playing basketball at recess. He tried passing the ball to someone else but instead it came flying at your face breaking your nose. He was at your side in an instant using his jacket to stop the bleeding. He apologized profusely saying it was an accident but you’re sure he did it on purpose.
Your freshman year of high school he overheard that you had a huge crush on a boy named Jin. He was a year older than you and so handsome and funny. You thought maybe he liked you too until he started distancing himself. You found out a couple months later that Yoongi had told him that you had some incurable contagious skin condition.
Somehow though over the next couple years you had grown fond of Yoongi, even developing feelings for him. He had matured and was pleasant to be around. You were ecstatic when he asked you to be his date to the senior prom. The night had been going well and you really thought you were going to share your first kiss with him. The dj announced it was time for the last dance when you realized Yoongi was taking a really long time in the bathroom. Walking the halls looking for him you found him pushed up against the lockers with Mia, the prom queen, sticking her tongue practically down his throat. You ran out of the dance that night ignoring the shouts of your name coming from Yoongi who was chasing after you.
While walking home with a broken heart you made yourself a promise that you would never let Min Yoongi hurt you ever again. So much so that you ignored any contact he tried to make with you even finally going to his parents when he didn’t get the hint.
In college you tried your best to avoid him. The first year was easy. You had different majors and different friend groups. Then Sarah started dating one of his best friends Hoseok leading to there being lots of time spent together. You watched as he often left the hangouts with some random woman he met. You’d always roll your eyes realizing he never changed. He always had something to say to you or about you too. His little comments here and there to purposely get under your skin only added to your irritation.
Maybe that’s why your first emotion around him now is always anger.
Thankfully your emotional day helped you swiftly fall into dreamland and stop thinking about him.
“Y/N, let’s go!!”,Sarah shouted from behind your door.
“Be right there.”
You took one final look at your outfit. Your dress was a little tighter than normal but you were hoping to get the attention of this guy you met on campus, Taehyung. You weren’t really into going to parties but you were in a pretty good mood since Yoongi had skipped class all week as expected of him and once Taehyung asked you if you were going to be at this party you were quick to agree.
The smell of alcohol and sweat and just dirty funk quickly hit your senses. You’d think they could’ve sprung for a couple $1 air fresheners but what could you expect from a bunch of college guys.
Once further into the home you were able to easily spot Taehyung. He walked over with two bottles of beer. One was still sealed which he cracked open for you. You appreciated his thoughtfulness.
You were really starting to like Tae, as he told you to call him. He was funny, gentle, dangerously handsome. You could see yourself having a future with him. He went off to get you another beer when you felt someone’s glare on you.
Yoongi was also at the party. You should’ve known. It was a perfect spot for him to prey on some woman who was too buzzed to care. He was leaning up against the wall, head slightly cocked while looking at you. He was wearing a black hoodie that fit him perfectly, rings adorned his long fingers, that stupid headband he’d been into wearing recently. You hated him but you hated it more that he still had an effect on you because you couldn’t stop thinking about how good he looked.
He smirked when he noticed you staring at him. Your body only heated up more when you noticed him looking you up and down.
“Y/N…I didn’t think parties were your thing.”, he said after walking over.
“Well I’m here with someone else. Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Uh yeah I saw that you were here with Taehyung. You should really think twice about him.”
You rolled your eyes, “Then why don’t you do something to ruin it for me Yoongi? That seems to be what you’re best at.”
Thanks to the darkness of the party you didn’t see his confidence falter a little at your words.
“Look Y/N I don’t give a fuck what you do. I’m just saying maybe don’t get too hung up on him.”
He left and walked past you into the kitchen leaving you feeling uneasy but Tae showed up just in time with another beer to take your mind off of him.
Two hours later, eight beers, and countless songs danced to you were needing some air. It had been a long time since you were this buzzed. Sarah was long gone with her date so it looked like you were going to get your wish of going home with Taehyung.
He walked you outside to sit on a bench underneath a big oak tree on the property.
“You alright?”, he chuckled after you let out a long sigh.
“Yeah just tired.”
Taehyung remained silent as you took in the night sky. For some reason that you hated, Yoongi was heavily on your mind. You figured that by now he was probably on his second hookup of the night which only hurt you more making your stomach just a little more nauseous.
“Hey uh Y/N can I ask you something?”, Taehyung spoke from next to you.
Your body woke up with excitement.
“Of course.”, you nodded.
“Your friend Sarah…Is she…Is she seeing anyone?”
You stared at him in disbelief. He wasn’t interested in you at all. The whole reason he asked you to the party was to get the details on your friend.
Feeling like you were going to cry or throw up, maybe both you stood up to begin walking home.
“Let me get you home safe.”, Taehyung said reaching for your hand.
You tried to pull away but a third hand grabbed yours first instead.
“No thanks. I’ve got her.”, a familiar voice broke the silence.
Yoongi was already leading you to his car before you could even protest.
He helped you into your apartment and to your bed. He’d been there several times when Hoseok and Sarah were dating so he knew his way around.
You were broken hearted once again and nauseous and exhausted and just didn’t have the strength to fight him any more.
You told yourself you were definitely never drinking again especially after the last thing you remembered being you asking Yoongi to stay and lay with you for a while.
And thankfully you remembered asking him that because if you hadn’t you probably would’ve woken up half the city with your screaming when you woke up and saw him peacefully sleeping next to you. You tried your best to get out of bed without him noticing but it didn’t go as planned.
When he woke up he looked even more shocked than you did. He jumped out of bed only to land awkwardly on some books which caused him to slip and end up on the floor with a loud thud. You stifled a giggle as he hastily got himself up again.
“Fuck Y/N I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Nothing happened. I swear I didn’t try to pull anything funny. You were crying and you asked me to stay and I felt bad. I was only gonna stay until you fell asleep but I must’ve dozed off myself. It’s these classes are killing me and I’m working two jobs and I’m just exhausted.”
“Yoongi it’s okay. I remember asking you to stay. It was an accident.”, you said trying to calm him down.
He looked at you wearily, “Are you feeling okay? The Y/N that I know would’ve already threaten to chop my balls off and shove them down my throat.”
You chuckled, “Yeah well this Y/N, is pretty hungover so I’m gonna let it go this time.”
He relaxed a little and sat back down on your end which did annoy you a little but you let it slide because the prior nights events were slowly coming back to you and you had some questions.
“Hey Yoongi, did you know that Taehyung only asked me to the party so he could ask about Sarah?”
He slid his tongue over his teeth. A habit of his he did when he was nervous. He nodded, “Uh yeah. He mentioned something about it to Jimin and then it got back to me.”
“So is that why you tried to get me to stop talking to him?”
He nodded.
“Why?”
“What do you mean why?”
You scoffed? “Well you kind of have a history of hurting me more than helping me so I’m just wondering why all of a sudden you cared enough to try and stop me from getting hurt?”
Yoongi turned to stare at you. His face flushing, either from anger or embarrassment, you weren’t really sure.
He sat fidgeting with his rings for a moment before looking at you, “Y/N…that night…that night at the prom. I didn’t kiss that girl.”, he paused, “I had written you a song. It was stupid and cheesy actually…”, he chuckled, “I forgot it in my locker so I told you that I had to go to the bathroom so I could go get it. Mia came up to me. She knew I liked you and she always hated it. She said it was the last dance and you were looking for me. I tried to push past her but as soon as I did she pushed me against the locker and kissed me. She knew you were standing there. She wanted you to see. I chased after you but you wouldn’t stop. I stopped shouting your name but I followed you home to make sure you got there safely.”, he shook his head, “You never answered any of my texts or calls. I even did dumb shit like leaving notes in your locker. Then my parents told me that I needed to back off before I got in trouble so I let you go. I guess I was childish and built some resent towards you. I’ve liked you ever since kindergarten when I used to pull on your ponytail with that ridiculous Minnie Mouse clip you always used to wear. And you just completely cut me off without letting me explain. I was hurt and started acting out towards you.”, he sighed, “I’m sorry Y/N. For all the messed up stuff I’ve said to you. I didn’t mean any of it. I guess I…I guess I just wanted to push you away from me. The further you were the less I remembered about how I broke your heart and how I never even got the chance.”
You stared at him in disbelief.
“So all this time you liked me?”
He nodded.
“Is that why you told Jin I had a contagious disease? Because you knew we liked each other?”
He chuckled at that, “Yeah I did. I was a little bit jealous and come on Y/N, you knew you could do better than him. He was more beauty than brains. I mean I told him you had stage 4 Cootie-Cockilus and he believed me…”
Laughter erupted in the room.
“Okay maybe that one helped me more than I thought.”, you laughed.
The room fell back into an awkward yet comfortable silence.
“Y/N, can we start over…please.”, Yoongi suddenly asked.
Bitingng your lip in thought you finally nodded in agreement, “Yeah I’d like that.”
“Alright well let’s get some breakfast then. I know a great cafe just outside of campus.”, he said motioning for you to follow him.
You grabbed your bag and walked in front of him.
Just before your hand reached the door handle you felt a tiny little tug on the end of your ponytail.
Your heart skipped a beat making you stop.
The biggest gummy smile greeted you when you turned around to playfully eye culprit.
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winchesterwild78 · 2 days
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A New Sheriff in Town pt 4
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Master List
Characters: Beau Arlen x Reader, Reader’s daughter Lily, other Big Sky characters
Warnings: Fluff, angst, slight smut, surprises
A/N: This was an idea given to me by @cheekygirl2309. Just a short series featuring our favorite green eyes Sheriff. Reader is a single mom and Beau moves into town. Things start to develop and the reader's daughter finds it hard to pull herself away from Beau. 
This does not follow the Big Sky timeline and is not in any way associated with the show. All work is my own, please don’t take it. 
Minors DNI 18+
*Time Jump 7 months*
“Lily, come on, we have to get ready. Mommy has a doctor’s appointment, we can’t be late.” You yelled from the bedroom. “Coming mommy.” Your daughter yelled from her room. “Daddy Beau and Em will be here soon to go with us.”
In the past few months a lot has changed between you and Beau. About 6 months ago Beau moved in and Emily would bounce between her mom’s house and your house. Lily loved having both of them there. She told people Emily was her sister and Beau was her new daddy. 
About 7 months ago Beau had a particularly intense case, one that caused him to be injured, and you almost lost him. The pain of possibly losing another person who you had fallen in love with was too much. The day he was released from the hospital your emotions overwhelmed you, and the two of you got into a huge fight. 
*Flashback*
“Beau, I’m so glad you’re okay. You scared the hell out of me. You can’t do that. We can’t lose you.” Tears streamed down your face. Beau stood in your living room, face filled with concern and frustration, “It’s not like I went to work that day asking to be shot, Y/N. Jeez. Do you honestly think I wanted this?!” “No, but you chose to be a cop, so you know the risks. Damn Beau, you’ve got people who love you and need you!” 
“You don’t think I know that! You, Em and Lily are my life! “What do you want me to do, quit!?” You just looked at Beau, unable to speak. “I’m not going to do that, Y/N. I love my job, I won’t quit.” Your heart ached in your chest, you couldn’t lose him. “Beau, I can’t lose another man I love. I lost Aaron while he was doing his job, I can’t go through that again.”
“What are you saying, Y/N?” You took a shaky breath in, “I love you Beau, but I can’t lose you too. Not like that. If you won’t quit, then I can’t be with you anymore. I can’t lose you.” Beau’s eyes went wide and he gasped, “What? Y/N, please don’t do this.” He reached for your hand but you pulled away, “Please leave, Beau. I’m sorry, this (you motioned between the two of you) is over.” 
Beau tried to protest, but you stood firm. He stepped closer to you, placed a soft kiss on your forehead, “I love you, Y/N. Good bye.”
When Beau left you collapsed on the floor sobbing. Your heart shattered. You had fallen in love with Beau and had seen a future with him, children with him. The fear of losing him in the line of duty was just too overwhelming. 
You pulled out your phone and dialed Sarah’s number. “Hey girl, how’s it going?” You heard her cheerful voice on the other end. You sobbed. “I’m on my way honey.” She hung up and a few minutes later she was by your side. 
Sarah helped you up and walked you over to the couch, “Come on sweetie, tell me what happened. Where is Beau?” You finally calmed down enough to talk to her. You told her everything and how you made Beau leave.
“Oh Y/N, you have every right to be scared, but honey you can’t let the fear cost you the beautiful life you deserve. Aaron wouldn’t have wanted that for you or Lily. Beau is an incredible man, and he’s so good with Lily. No matter what job someone has there is always a chance they won’t come home from work. Sure Beau’s job has a high risk, but honey that man loves you and Lily so much. Don’t throw that away for fear.” 
You knew she was right. “Look, I’ll get Lily from school and take her to my house for a sleepover, you call Beau and the two of you work this out. I’m not going to let you throw away happiness. I love you, Y/N, now call Beau.” You nodded and pulled out your phone.
Beau’s voice was soft when he answered, “Hey darlin’.” “Hey Beau, I’m so sorry, can you come back so we can talk?” “I’m already here baby.” There was a knock on your door. 
You opened the door and saw Beau standing there with red, wet eyes. He’d been crying. Your heart sank, knowing you caused him the pain you saw reflected in his eyes. Sarah came out from Lily’s room with her bag. She hugged you and whispered ‘good luck.’ As she walked past Beau, she touched his shoulder and they nodded at each other. 
When Sarah left Beau stepped in the house. The two of you started to talk at the same time, Beau told you to go first. “Beau, I’m so sorry. I let the fear of losing you take over. I don’t want to lose you, but I don’t want you to go either. If you’ll have me I want to be yours again. I was a fool telling you to leave. I love you, Beau. I love our life together and I see a future with you.” Beau stepped closer, pulled you flush to his chest and placed a soft kiss on your lips. 
No more words were needed. You knew he had forgiven you. The kiss quickly turned into a deep need to be together. As Beau walked you to your bedroom your clothes started to come off, leaving a trail from the living room to the bedroom door. 
Once in the confines of your bedroom, you and Beau made love off and on all night long. The connection between the two of you deepened and was becoming stronger. As Beau held you that night you asked him to move in. “Beau, I want you and Em to move in here. I love you both and I want you two to be here with Lily and I.” “Really sweetheart? I’d love that.” You smiled and laid your head on his chest. 
*Present*
As you were grabbing your shoes Beau and Emily walked in the house. “Daddy! You’re back. Emmy I missed you.” Emily smiled and picked up Lily, “I missed you too, kiddo. Are you ready to go?” “Yep, mama said I get to know first.” Emily smiled and nodded.
You stood at the doorway looking at your little family and smiled. Beau walked up to you and placed a soft kiss on your lips, “Hey baby, you ready?” You smiled, “I can’t get my shoes on.” 
Beau laughed and helped you walk over to the couch. As you sat down your hand touched your growing belly. The night Beau came back you ended up getting pregnant. Today the four of you were going to find out the gender. 
When you found out you were pregnant you were shocked. The two of you had been having unprotected sex for a few months and you hadn’t ended up pregnant, then you were. You were excited and scared too. The idea of having another baby was a rollercoaster of emotions. Beau was an incredible father, but the fear of losing him kept creeping into your mind. Aaron died when Lily was so young, you were afraid it might happen again, and this time you’d have two children to care for, well three to love because you would never push Emily away. 
Beau helped you get your shoes on and the four of you got in the car. In the waiting room Lily was telling everyone she gets to know first, and they offered her a soft smile. When your name was called, Beau helped you up and Emily took Lily’s hand. The nurse smiled, “Looks like the whole family is here today. Lily, are you excited to find out if you’re going to have a little sister or a little brother?” Lily giggled and said yes. 
A few minutes later the doctor was in the room and did the exam. Everything was on target and looking good. Your iron was a little low, but not too bad. You cried a little when they took your weight. Beau assured you that you were stunning.
After the exam, the doctor wheeled in the ultrasound machine. “Okay everyone, are we ready to look at the little one?” Lily’s eyes lit up and she enthusiastically answered yes for everyone. The room filled with laughter. Lily told the doctor she got to know first. The doctor nodded. All eyes were glued to the screen as the baby appeared. You could hear their steady, strong heartbeat and your heart soared. 
“Okay, big sister Lily, come here and I’ll tell you.” She climbed out of Emily’s lap and walked over to the doctor. The doctor leaned down and whispered in Lily’s ear and her eyes went wide and sparkled. She giggled and climbed back in Emily’s lap. 
The three of you waited with baited breath to find out, but Lily was tight lipped. “Lily honey, are you going to tell us?” She shook her head no and giggled. “Lily, why don’t you want to tell us?” “Cause it’s a secret. Aunt Sarah told me I couldn’t tell anyone until I told her.” 
You and Beau exchanged a look and a smirk. “Oh I’m going to get her.” You said and laughed. The doctor laughed, “Well Mom, I want to see you back in about a week to check your iron again. I’ll get the pictures printed and you’ll be good to go.” You nodded and thanked her.
Emily told you and Beau she was going to take Lily out so you could get dressed. Beau thanked her and helped you up. 
Once you were dressed and had the pictures the four of you walked to the car. Lily was giggling the whole way. You kept shaking your head and smirking. Once in the car, Beau turned and looked at Lily, “Hey baby girl, should we go to the store and pick out some clothes for the baby? What do you think, some pink or some blue?” You laughed, “Beau, you’re terrible.” “I just want to know.” He laughed. 
You pulled out your phone and called Sarah, “Hey Sarah we are done. Um, and why is my child not telling us what the baby is?” She laughed hysterically, “I can’t believe she’s actually keeping it a secret.” “Well she is, she told us you told her she had to tell you first. What in the world do you have planned?” “You let me worry about that, and don’t try to spoil it. I’ll be over in a little bit to get her and Emily. Us girls have something planned.”
You looked over at Emily and smirked. She realized you knew she was in on it. She chuckled. When you hung up you looked at Beau, “Looks like both our girls were in on this little coup.” Beau’s eyes flicked up into the mirror, “Em, really? I thought we were closer than that.” He laughed. “Sorry dad, I couldn’t resist helping with this. Trust me, you’re going to love it.” 
A few hours later you and Beau were sitting in the living room together. The girls were still with Sarah and it was quiet in the house. The soft hum of the television played in the background. Beau had his hand placed on your belly feeling your baby kick and move. Your hand was placed on his. 
“I can’t believe we are going to welcome this little one in a few months. Regardless of what they are, they are already so loved.” You smiled and nodded at Beau, “I know, I have to ask though, what are you hoping for Beau?” “Honestly, a boy. We already have two incredible girls, we need a boy now.” You smiled, “Yeah, I am too.” Beau kissed your lips, “As long as they are healthy I know I will be happy either way. Even though I’m hoping for a boy, if they are a girl, they will be loved just as much.” 
You smiled and nodded. “I love you Beau. Thank you for this incredible life we have.” “I love you too, Y/N. Thank you for this incredible life, and for having my baby.” He kissed your lips again. This time the kiss was full of need. 
Beau pulled you on his lap. You tried to protest, “Beau, no, I’m too heavy.” “No you’re not, you’re perfect.” Things started to heat up between you and Beau. He helped you remove your shirt, and your engorged breasts were poking over the top of your bra. Beau bit his lip, “God you’re beautiful, pregnant with my baby.” You blushed. 
His fingers went behind your back and unhooked your bra, letting your breasts spring free. He growled, cupping your breasts and kissing them. Your head leaned back as a moan escaped your lips. “Mmm yes Beau, please baby.” You could feel your arousal soaking your panties. 
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” Beau’s voice dripped with desire. “You, Beau, I want you. Take me please.”
Beau laid you back on the couch and stood up. He slid your pants and panties down. He smirked when he saw how wet you were. He started to unbuckle his pants, ready to take you right there. The shrill sound of your phone ringing stopped him. “Shit!” He murmured. He grabbed your phone and showed you the screen, it was Sarah. “Impeccable timing, Sarah.” Beau said as he answered. “Beau, wait, were you two, oh jeez. Can’t keep your hands off each other?” Beau smirked, “Nope, what’s up?” “Can you two head to the park please?” Beau sighed, “Yeah, give us a few minutes.” “Beau, you don’t have time to finish.” “I know, but helping a very pregnant woman get ready to leave the house takes a little longer. We will be there soon.” Sarah laughed and hung up.
“Looks like our presence is being requested at the park.” Beau said as he buckled his pants back. You poked your lip out, pouting, “So we don’t have time to finish?” Beau leaned down and kissed your lips, “Well, I can take care of you and later we can finish.” You bit your lip and gasped as Beau’s fingers pushed into your dripping core. He worked you closer to your release. It was coming faster since you were already so worked up. You grabbed the couch and bucked your hips into his fingers. “Oh god, Beau I’m going to cum.” He leaned over and kissed your lips, “Cum for me baby, cum on my hand.” You pushed into his hand one more time and you came hard. Moaning and panting.
Once you were done, Beau kissed you and helped you get cleaned up. “Beau, what about you?” “I told you, we will finish this later. I don’t need Sarah kicking my ass.” He laughed. You nodded. Once dressed the two of you headed towards the park.  
Getting out of the car at the park you noticed several people, your girls, Sarah and some of Beau’s colleagues. Sarah and Emily had decorated the shelter with pink and blue balloons. They had planned a gender reveal party. 
Sarah walked over and hugged you, “I know you’d always said if you got pregnant again you wanted a gender reveal where you didn’t know what the baby was. I’m sorry I had to be sneaky, but I hope this is a good surprise.” Tears pricked your eyes and you hugged her tight, “It’s perfect, thank you.”
The afternoon was perfect. Family and friends were gathered, enjoying food and laughter. Celebrating your growing family. The time came to reveal the gender. Sarah had cupcakes made for everyone. The two she handed you and Beau had the gender hidden inside. The frosting in the middle would either be blue or pink. 
You and Beau took a deep breath and bit your cupcakes. As the two of you pulled the cupcakes back from your mouth, tears fell from your eyes and Beau smiled. He pulled you in for a quick kiss. As he pulled away you both showed your cupcakes and revealed to your gathered family and friends blue frosting. You were having a boy.
Lily jumped up and down, “I’m having a brother!” She squealed. You smiled and bent down to hug your daughter, “Yes you are baby girl.” You placed your hand on your belly and felt him kick. Looking over at Beau, “We’re having a boy.” He pulled you into his embrace, “Thank you, Y/N.” Leaning down he placed a kiss on your belly, “I can’t wait to meet you little guy. You are already so loved.” 
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i-like-forcefem · 2 days
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PURELY hypothetically speaking, how EXACTLY would you go about forcefemming a guy who’s sooo masc, like he thinks he’s the ALPHA SHIT, he thinks he pulls all the ladies and is the most manly man to ever man… and turning “him” into an adorable little girly princess :3c asking for a friend
For a hard boiled egg like this it’s very important to get her alone in an isolated location for an extended period of time! It always takes a little longer then they’ve got pride, but honestly that makes it so so much more fun when they crack
It’s a bit of a staple, but I think I’ll use my Basement, yes it’s generic, but it’s tried and true, and a girl like this isn’t a time to experiment
Getting her to the basement is usually easy enough, just invite her over for tea or something and apply a little posion of your choice that will have her immobilised, sleepy pills work, but I personally prefer it when you can see the fear in her eyes when they get fully paralysed
I always have my basement prepared for new arrivals, this means a firm lock, and plenty of hand cuffs around the walls and girly furniture for if I want to move her around
The first time she wakes up is always so important and so so fun, so I’ll pick out a good spot to tie her up, I think the plushy couch would be good for this cutie, and make sure to pick a good outfit
For a girl like this I think it’d be best to start with her in just a pair of pink panties, just being handcuffed in a hugging position with a plushy against her skin should be enough embarrassment for the wake up, I’ll also be sure to use my princess gag just to make her first impressions extra cute as she makes muffled screeches
Then I’ll wait till she wakes up, I usually monitor a camera from outside the room and wait to enter, I want her to get a feel for the room and her situation before she sees me, 2 minutes is usually enough for her to glance around the overly girly room, notice she’s tied up, and to start her muffled screams
Then I’ll calmly enter and tell her how she’s my doll now, she’ll have objections of course, being a big bugle “man”, but it’s pretty hard to do anything about your situation when tied up like that
And then I’ll play it slow
I think I can have her docile by the end of the day, dress her up in her first dress (the basement can get very cold so if she doesn’t want to wear her dress that’s fine by me, but she’ll give in by the end of the second day, and to survive that long I’ll probably get some adorable footage of her willingly snuggling up with her many many plushies, hard to think a “man” would do that)
Any food I give her will obviously have hrt inserted into it, but in this case in particular I want to try something new, next to her (estrogen filled) meals I’ll also give her some placebo pills I’ll tell her are actually hrt, and if she’s a Good Girl and takes her pills she’ll be rewarded
Obviously she’ll refuse at first, willingly taking pills is one of the hardest milestones for a girl to pass
But always giving her the option always gives me to opportunity to punish her, and to tell her just how easy it’d be if she just submitted, became my pretty little girl
Now some of the girls have a surprising amount of determination to not become happy, so this might take a while, which is why I’ll give her her hrt anyway
Since it will be so so fun to tease her for it, I could maybe even gaslight her into thinking she might be taking the pills anyway, or her body wants to become a girl so so bad that’s it’s making estrogen all on its own
You’d be surprised how much gaslighting you can get away with if you’re a persons only outside contact
So… I’ve got some plans to say the least!!! I’ve got a whole laundry list of activities we could try every week to keep it fresh (from shock collars to vibrators to bondage, to “toy” pink weightlifting products that are 10 times the weight it says on the box, I will have so much fun breaking her :3)
Now do you have any idea where this hypothetical person is? And do they prefer tea or coffee?
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raayllum · 10 hours
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thinking a lot about how Callum initially tries not to tell Rayla about why he did dark magic. She asks multiple times ("So why, why would you do it again?" and "I just don't understand why you would keep doing it?" and "Yeah, I do [want to know why]!") and he deflects or rebuffs her, each time with a different understanding of why she's pressing it so hard.
The first time is because he thinks it's because of the moral reservations he remembers her having in S2 ("That's his own fault for messing with dark magic"): "Because it's wrong."
Then when he finds out she's upset because of the harm it does to him (dangerous, hurtful, makes him vulnerable to his worst fear, puts his life in terrible danger, etc) he switches gears: "It's too late for me, I'm ruined" i.e. it's not worth worrying about me over this because I can't be saved. It's not the same saddened resignation we see from Rayla, but it is the same defeatist "I'm already dead it's already over for me" we see her utilize in the name of "I'll do what I can to minimize my collateral damage and you should just let me" (leaving him at home, staying behind at the spire, etc etc even though the latter wasn't actually her damage, but i digress).
He still doesn't want to tell her why for probably similar reasons he hasn't told her since, which is that he doesn't want her to blame herself/spiral... and it's almost funny to me how angry he is, in some ways, at the of the episode. Because all she did was tell him to sacrifice her for the greater good if he ever had to (not even that he can't save her with dark magic again, though that can definitely bleed into it with the "makes you vulnerable to Aaravos thing") but that's so unfathomably difficult as a concept to him all he knows is how to then use it as leverage to get the safety net he thinks he needs more than ever: that if he ever is ruined past the point of no return, Rayla will know, and she'll end him.
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