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maxtermind · 4 months

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please i'm begging you (please don't feel pressured if your life is busy 💕) we need pt 2 to the angst i can't handle this 😭 my heart 💔 the writing is too good that i'm feeling things 😓

was i stupid to love you?

★ : summary :: when he downplays your feelings ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: angst; hurt/comfort ★ : word count :: 4.6k ★ : a/n :: open ending, don't forget to vote after so i can get a bit of feedback :3 kinda rushed so might contain lots of typos sorryyyy!!

( part 1 )

Charles Leclerc

The house party buzzed with music and laughter, a cacophony that drowned your thoughts as you stormed through the crowded rooms. Your heart raced with a mix of anger and hurt, knowing Charles was right on your tail, determined to catch you before you could reach Arthur.

Your boyfriend’s hand wrapped around yours just as his brother turned around to look at you guys. You stomped your feet as you shook your head to dismiss Arthur and follow your boyfriend who quietly kissed your head in gratitude before you could step away.

”What is going on with you?!” Your voice trembled with barely contained fury as you confronted Charles in a quieter corner.

Charles sighed, his brow furrowing in frustration. ”I don’t know, baby. I’m so sorry—”

”You told me off when you should know that I’m right!” Your voice rose involuntarily. ”She fucking leaned in thinking that you were gonna choose her.”

”Y/N, please listen to me,” Charles said earnestly, stepping closer to you. ”I messed up. I know. But I would, never in a hundred years, choose anyone let alone her over you.”

You looked into Charles' eyes, seeing the sincerity and pain reflected in them. Your anger began to melt, replaced by a swirl of conflicting emotions.

”You’re just saying what I want to hear and I don't like it,” you said, your voice softer now, searching for clarity.

”It’s the truth,” Charles declared, his voice tinged with regret. ”I know I’ve hurt you baby and I'm sorry for that but I can’t— I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I watched you leave with my brother. Let me drop you home, okay?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, frustration and hurt mixing with the love you still felt for him. Charles gently took your hands in his, his touch warm and comforting.

”Y/N, please,” Charles pleaded, his voice raw with emotion. ”I never want to make you feel like you need to run away from me. I want to talk this out, please give me a chance to make things right.”

You hesitated, feeling torn between wanting to forgive him and the pain of betrayal still fresh in your heart.

”Okay,” you finally whispered, feeling emotionally drained. ”Let's go.”

Charles nodded, relief washing over his face. He led you out of the noisy party, his grip on your hand tight and reassuring. The cool night air outside provided a stark contrast to the heated emotions inside.

As Charles drove you home, neither of you spoke. The silence was filled with unspoken words and the weight of what had just transpired. But Charles kept stealing glances at you, his eyes full of regret and love.

When you arrived at your shared apartment, Charles parked the car but made no move to get out. He turned to you, his expression soft and vulnerable.

”I'll leave if you want me to,” Charles said quietly, his voice tinged with sorrow. ”But please, Y/N, give us a chance to talk tomorrow. I'll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

You looked at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes and the love that still lingered despite everything. Tears fell down your cheeks as you nodded slowly.

”I need time,” you admitted softly, your voice barely audible. ”Time to sort through this.”

Charles nodded understandingly, reaching out to gently wipe away your tears. ”Take all the time you need,” he said softly, his thumb caressing your cheek. ”I'll be here, whenever you're ready.”

”Where will you go?” You asked, not wanting to leave just yet.

”To your brother’s house,” he joked and smiled cheekily when you let out a small laugh.

”I love you,” Charles continued and seemed satisfied when you saw your tinted cheeks, giving into the temptation to kiss your hand. ”I’ll stay at Arthur's for the night.”

With that, you stepped out of the car, your heart heavy with conflicting emotions. You watched Charles drive away, feeling the distance between you both but knowing that perhaps, with time, you could find a way back to each other.

Lando Norris

You sat in the break room at work, your lunch untouched in front of you. The memories of last night’s events still stung, the image of her hand on Lando’s thigh and the lipstick on his collar replaying in your mind.

Just as you were about to take a sip of water, the door swung open, and there he was, your— ex? —boyfriend, looking desperate and determined. You knew there was a possibility he’d try to catch you at work given that you’d taken away all other means.

”Y/N, can I please?” he said, his voice pleading as he pointed towards the hallway.

You nodded reluctantly and led him to an empty hall, away from prying eyes. The silence was deafening as you stood there, waiting for him to speak.

You nodded reluctantly and led him to an empty conference room, away from prying eyes. The silence was deafening as you stood there, waiting for him to speak.

”Y/N, please,” he started, his voice trembling slightly. ”I’m so sorry about last night.”

You crossed your arms, leaning against the table. ”Bet you had a good time, huh?”

”No, I didn't,” Lando said in disbelief before he took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. ”Nothing that happened there was intentional. We were all drinking, and she... she got too close. I should have pushed her away. I’m sorry.”

You scoffed, anger bubbling up again, finally fired up enough to speak your mind. ”Her hand was on your fucking thigh, Lando. And your collar— her lipstick was all over it. How do you explain that?”

He winced, clearly pained by the memory. ”I know it looks bad, but it wasn’t what it seemed. She leaned in close to talk to me, and I didn’t realize she had left a mark. It was a— just a stupid mistake, and I should have been more aware.”

”More aware?” you echoed, your voice rising. ”You should have cared about how it would make me feel! Instead, you shrugged it off like it was nothing.”

”I didn’t mean to shrug it off,” he said, stepping closer. ”I was wrong. I should have reassured you, should have shown you that you’re the only one that matters to me. Baby, please just let me—”

You looked away, the pain still fresh. ”It’s not just about the lipstick or her hand. It’s about how you made me feel like I was overreacting, like my feelings didn’t matter.”

”They do matter,” he said, his voice breaking. ”More than anything. I was an idiot. I should have pushed her away immediately. I should have come to you and told you everything before you saw it for yourself.”

”You know I only want you,” he added softly, his eyes pleading with you.

You shook your head, trying to hold back tears. ”That’s the thing, Lando. I don’t know that. I actually believe that y— you don’t at all.”

Lando’s eyes filled with tears as a broken whisper of your name left his mouth. ”I h.. have never, I never will. Ever.” He stressed. ”Want anyone— need anyone the way I want you.”

You kept quiet as you looked at him trying to catch himself. Lending him your hand that he squeezed in return.

”I can’t believe you would ever believe that but I understand and, I promise… I’ll be more mindful, more respectful. I’ll make sure everyone knows I’m taken, that I’m yours. Please, give me a chance to make it right.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and you let out a slow breath, trying to not have a breakdown at your workplace. ”It’s going to take time, Lando. Trust isn’t rebuilt overnight.”

”I know,” he said, relief washing over his features. ”And I’m willing to do whatever it takes. I’ll prove to you that I’m worthy of your trust.”

”Okay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. ”I’ll give it a thought, Lando. But if you hurt me again, we’re done.”

”I understand,” he said, his voice filled with determination. ”Thank you, Y/N. I won’t let you down.”

Max Verstappen

The streets were bustling with late-night revelers, their laughter and chatter a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside you. The restaurant's neon sign flickered as you stepped out into the cool night air, your phone clenched tightly in your hand.

Three hours. You had waited for three hours, hoping Max would show up for your anniversary dinner, only to find out from the story of your mutual friend that he was out with her again.

On your anniversary.

You made your way through the crowded streets, not caring where you ended up. You just needed to get away, to think, to process the hurt and betrayal. Your phone buzzed incessantly in your pocket, but you ignored it. Max's calls and messages could wait. Right now, you needed space.

After wandering aimlessly for a while, you found yourself at the edge of the city, near the river. The quiet contrast of the flowing water was a welcome change from the city's noise. You sat on a bench, pulling your jacket tighter around you as a light drizzle began to fall. The soft patter of rain on the water's surface was soothing, but it didn’t dull the ache in your heart.

Minutes turned into an hour, and the rain intensified. Your phone buzzed again, and this time you glanced at it. Last message from Max was a minute ago

Max: Y/N, please. Where are you? Let me explain. I’m looking for you.

You sighed, wiping away the raindrops mixed with your tears. Your fingers hovered over the screen before you finally typed a reply.

You: By the river. Near the old bridge.

You didn’t know why you told him, but some part of you wanted to hear him out. To understand why he kept doing this. Why would he even waste time with you if he was already in love with someone else?

God. Even the thought of that brought up a real pain in your chest. The rain fell harder, and you huddled under the small awning of a nearby building, trying to stay somewhat dry.

After what felt like an eternity, you saw a figure running towards you through the rain. It was Max, drenched and breathless. He slowed as he approached, his eyes filled with worry and regret. HIs clothes were all over the place, untucked and wrinkled and you only drew the worst conclusion.

”Y/N,” he gasped, stopping a few feet away. ”Thank God, you're okay.”

You stood up, arms crossed defensively. ”You’ve got five minutes, Max. Make it count.”

He nodded, taking a step closer. ”I’m so sorry, Y/N. I know I’ve let you down. I was with her tonight because she’s going through a really rough time. She had no one else to turn to.”

You narrowed your eyes, the skepticism clear. ”On our anniversary? How convenient.”

He flinched at your tone but didn’t back down. ”I know it’s no excuse. I should have told you. I thought I could help her quickly and still make it to dinner. I didn’t realize it would take so long.”

You shook your head, the anger bubbling up again. ”This isn’t the first time, Max. How many times have I had to wonder if she’s really just a friend? How many times have you put her before me?”

Max stepped closer, his eyes pleading. ”I’ve been blind, Y/N. I didn’t see how much I was hurting you. There’s nothing romantic between us. She’s just a friend, and she needed my help. But I see now that I’ve been unfair to you.”

Tears mixed with the rain on your cheeks. ”I don’t know if I can keep doing this, Max. The constant worry, the feeling like I’m not enough. It’s tearing me apart.”

He reached out, tentatively taking your hand. ”You are more than enough, Y/N. I’ve been an idiot, and I’m so sorry. I love you, and I don’t want to lose you.”

You looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of deception. All you saw was sincerity and regret. ”How can I trust you again, Max? What did she even need help with?”

He squeezed your hand gently. ” She saw her ex at the club and he was being an asshole. I just went over for five to put him in his place when one of her friends posted the story. I’m sorry for the delay, baby. I know I should've been more transparent about everything. Just please, give me a chance to make things right.”

”Is she okay?” You took a shaky breath, your heart aching with the desire to believe him and he exhaled when you pulled him under the shit excuse of shelter you had from the rain.

”She’s okay. I promise I won't ever embarrass you this way again, baby. You won’t ever have to sit and wonder if I'm bailing because I found someone else or not.” Max took another deep breath. ”I never will, baby, you are the only one I want. I will never find anyone.”

You closed your eyes, the tears spilling over as you hugged him. ”I wanna go home.”

”Okay let’s go home, baby.” Max gently cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away your tears. ”But I need you to know. You are my priority, Y/N. I’ll never let you feel otherwise again. I love you more than anything, and I’ll spend every day proving it to you.”

You leaned into his touch, feeling a flicker of hope amidst the pain as you hugged him.

He sighed again, closing his eyes to soak in this. ”Happy anniversary, baby. I love you”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a tired smile.

Carlos Sainz

Carlos's pleas had grown quieter, the urgency in his voice replaced with a softness that seemed to seep through the crack under the door.

You could hear his breath hitching, a clear sign that he was on the verge of breaking down himself. But you couldn’t get yourself to stand up as you sat on the bed, knees drawn to your chest, tears still streaming down your face as you tried to block out the sound.

”Y/N, please,” he choked out, and you could hear the tears in his voice now. ”I'm so sorry. I... I don't know what else to say. I can't lose you.”

The sincerity and raw emotion in his voice cut through you in a vicious manner, and against your better judgment, you found yourself getting up. You hesitated for a moment, your hand hovering over the doorknob, before finally opening the door just a crack.

Carlos was standing there, his eyes red and swollen from crying. When he saw you, a look of profound relief washed over his face. ”Thank you,” he whispered.

You stepped back, letting him in. He walked in slowly, as if afraid to invade your space, and you closed the door behind him. The silence was heavy, each second stretching into an eternity.

”I'm so sorry,” Carlos said again, his voice trembling. ”I swear, I didn't know she was going to kiss me. If I had known, I would have never invited her. I would never do anything to hurt you intentionally.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your own shaking voice. ”But you did invite her, Carlos. And I told you to cut her off so many times. Why didn't you listen?”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking utterly defeated. ”I thought... I thought we were just friends. I didn't realize she felt that way about me. And when she kissed me, I was so shocked. I— I froze. I'm an idiot. I should have pushed her away immediately.”

”You should have,” you echoed, your voice breaking as you recalled that scene and it felt like someone was physically stabbing you. ”Do you have any idea how much it hurt to see that?”

Carlos stepped closer, his eyes pleading. ”I know, and I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I love you, Y/N. You're the only one I want to be with.”

You looked down, tears falling onto the floor. ”How do I know that, Carlos? How do I know you won't let this happen again?”

He gently took your hands in his, his touch warm and reassuring. ”Because I can’t ever go through this again. I don’t want to know what it feels like to almost lose you. I'll cut her off completely. I promise you, baby, just, anything— it will never happen again.”

You pulled your hands away, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively. ”It's not just about cutting her off, Carlos. I can never get that image out of my brain now. What if you just wake up tomorrow that you didn’t get rid of her because yo— you…?”

You trailed off but Carlos understood and immediately shook his head. ”No,” he said firmly. ”I will never wake up with anyone other than you in my heart. You’re the one I love, the one I am going to live my life with.”

He didn’t let you speak as he carried on,”I understand. Trust is earned, not given. And I'll do whatever it takes to earn it back. I'll prove to you that you can trust me.”

You sighed, feeling the weight of his words. ”I want to believe you. But it's going to take time. A lot of time.”

”I know,” he said softly. ”And I'm willing to wait. I'll wait as long as it takes for you to trust me again. Just please, don't shut me out. Let me be there for you.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the genuine remorse and love in them. Despite everything, a part of you still loved him deeply. ”Okay,” you whispered. ”But you have to understand, it's going to be hard. I'm still hurt, and it's going to take a while for me to heal.”

Carlos nodded, a flicker of hope in his eyes. ”I'll be patient. I'll be here for you, no matter what. And I'll do everything I can to make it right.”

”Alright.” You nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope yourself. ”Just... don't make me regret it.”

”I won't,” Carlos stepped closer, tentatively reaching out to wipe a tear from your cheek. ”I love you, Y/N. More than anything.”

You gave him a small as you leaned into his touch, feeling a mix of emotions, ”I love you too, Carlos. That's why this hurts so much.”

He pulled you into a gentle hug, holding you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. ”We'll get through this. Together.”

Lewis Hamilton

You paced around your apartment, the anger and hurt from the argument still fresh. The silence after the exchange with Lewis was deafening. You couldn’t believe he said those things. Your phone buzzed on the couch, but you ignored it, needing space to process.

A knock on your door interrupted your thoughts. It was loud and persistent. You hesitated, hoping it wasn’t who you thought it was.

”Y/N, please open up. I need to talk to you,” Lewis’s voice came through the door, sounding desperate.

You took a deep breath and opened the door. Your boyfriend stood there, looking remorseful.

”What do you want, Lewis?” you asked, your voice cold.

”Can I come in? Please, we need to talk,” he pleaded.

You stepped aside reluctantly, letting him in. He walked into the living room, turning to face you with regret etched on his face.

”I’m sorry, Y/N,” he started, his voice soft as he ran a hand over his face. ”I didn’t mean what I said. I was frustrated— but that’s no excuse.”

”You really hurt me,” you said, crossing your arms defensively knowing you had to support yourself before you start crying again. ”And you were so fucking cruel about it!”

”I know, and I hate that I did that to you,” he replied, his eyes sincere. ”I’ve been spending too much time with her, and I’ve been blind to how it’s been affecting you— us. Affecting us.”

”Why do you keep seeing her then? If she’s just a friend, why does it feel like she’s more important than me?” you demanded, your voice shaking.

”She’s not more important than you,” he said quickly. ”I’ve let the boundaries blur, and I didn’t realize how much it was hurting you. I’m sorry.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you blinked them away. This was not what you expected. You were ready for a fight, sure that Lewis would come with his own weapons out but this was undoing you.

”It’s not just about her, Lewis. It’s about us. You’ve been distant, and I feel like I’m losing you.”

Lewis nodded, looking pained and sick. ”You’re not losing me, Y/N. I’ve been an idiot, and I’ve taken you for granted. I want to fix this.”

”How?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Desperately clinging onto him to make amends because you couldn’t see any in hindsight.

”By being more present, by setting boundaries, and by showing you every day how much you mean to me,” he said, taking your hands in his. ”Please give me a chance to make this right.”

”Words aren’t enough anymore,” you said, looking down at your joined hands.

”I know,” he nodded. ”But I'm willing to go through any lengths, I’ll prove to you that you’re my priority.”

You searched his eyes, seeing the determination and regret. ”I want to trust you,” as your voice cracked, the very first tear fell down your face and Lewis immediately grabbed you as he pulled you to lay your head on his chest.

”I can’t though— I wish I could but I can't get hurt again.”

”I understand and I promise you can shoot me if I hurt you again” he said. ”I love you, Y/N. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

You leaned into his embrace, feeling a flicker of hope amidst the pain. ”I love you too.” You felt him take a sigh as he held you tight against his warm body.

”And I need you to understand that my feelings are valid,” you continued as you soaked his shirt with your tears. ”When I tell you something bothers me, I need you to listen and not dismiss it.”

”I promise I’ll listen,” he said, his voice full of sincerity. ”I’ll do better because losing you would end me.”

You took a deep breath, feeling a weight lift slightly. As you stood there in your boyfriend’s arms, you realized that healing would take time but there was no one else you would rather heal with. Though only time could tell what the future held for you.

Oscar Piastri

You closed your eyes as you heard the door of your best friend's apartment being knocked on again. Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions—anger, betrayal, sadness.

You replayed the messages over and over in your head, each one cutting deeper than the last as you contemplated whether letting Oscar in would be a good decision. You finally made the decision when you heard the neighbor’s lock moving.

You pulled him in before they could open their door or call the cops and finally took a look at him. He looked disheveled. His eyes were red from holding unshed tears as they glossed over once he finally took you in.

”Y/N,” Oscar started, moving towards you with open arms. ”Thanks for letting me in.”

”I almost didn't.” You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to keep your voice steady as you stepped away from his open arms. ”But you were waking up the whole damn building.”

Oscar nodded, looking down at the ground. ”I deserve that.” You took a deep breath, desperate to get this over with.

”Why, Oscar? Why did you lie to me?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. ”I... I was scared you'd get upset. I thought if I told you the truth, you'd leave me.”

”And now?” you scoffed, your voice rising. ”You think I'm not upset now? You think lying to me makes it any better?”

He stepped closer, his eyes pleading. ”Y/N, I made a mistake. A huge mistake. But nothing happened between me and her, I swear. We were drunk, and she sat on my lap for a picture. It was stupid and irresponsible, but that's all it was.”

You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. ”Do you have any idea how that made me feel? Seeing her on your lap after you told me she wasn't even going to be there?”

Oscar reached out to touch your arm, but you stepped back once again and his eyes brimmed with tears. ”Y/N, please. I love you. I was an idiot, but I love you. I need you to believe that.”

You wiped your eyes, trying to compose yourself. ”How can I believe you, Oscar? When I don't even know if you really want me?”

He swallowed hard, his tears finally falling out of his eyes. Oscar looked defeated as if he was fighting a battle already lost.

”Please don’t say that. You’re the only person I want. I'll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back. I'll never lie to you again. I'll be completely honest, even if it's something I think will hurt you. Just... please give me a chance to make it right.”

You looked at him, searching his face for any sign of deception. You saw only earnest regret and a desperate longing for forgiveness. You wanted to believe him, but the hurt was still so raw.

”I don't know if I can,” you whispered. ”You've broken my trust, Oscar. And that's not something you can just fix with words.”

He nodded slowly. ”I know. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes. I'll go to counseling, I'll give you access to my phone, my social media, anything you need to feel secure. Just please, don’t give up on us.”

You stood in silence for a moment, the weight of the situation heavy in the air. You looked around the dimly lit apartment, as you took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts.

”Okay,” you said finally. ”I’m willing to discuss this in the morning. But if you lie to me again, if you hurt me again, we're done. Do you understand?”

Oscar's face lit up with a mixture of relief and determination as his chest heaved. ”I understand. I promise you, Y/N, I'll never give you a reason to doubt me again.”

You nodded, as your lips quivered. ”I hope so. Because I don't think I can go through this again.”

He stepped closer, cautiously taking your hand. You allowed it, feeling the warmth of his touch. ”Thank you,” he said softly. ”I won't let you down.”

You stood together, still holding hands. The silence between you was different now—tentative, but with a flicker of understanding. You had a long way to go, but for the first time since those fateful messages, you felt like maybe, just maybe, not all was lost.

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heejake-hoon · 2 months

Text

Milked in the Stacks

CW: Dom!Heeseung x sub!Jake x sub!afab!reader, threesome, face fucking, mxm actions, messy make out, facials, names calling (slut, whore...etc), creampie, a bit of breeding kink (if you squint) and more WC: 4,159 (of pure filth and nastiness) A.N: I had thoughts about this while being on the plane nd couldn't stop thinking about it, so enjoy. Also this is my first time writing threesome/mxm so don't have high expectations.

You shift awkwardly at your desk, the dull scribble of your pen filling the dimly lit library. It's late - too late for anyone to really be here, especially on a Friday night. But you're a diligent student, working hard towards that 4.0 GPA. Even if it means missing out on the raucous parties just a few blocks away.

The muffled thump of bass drums reach your ears, barely audible through the thick stone walls. You roll your eyes. Typical of the frat crowd to be so obnoxiously loud. Your mind wanders to the rumors about the jocks and meatheads that dominate Greek life on campus. Drunken debauchery, orgies, hazing rituals…you shudder at the thought.

A loud bang makes you jump, quill skidding across the page. Two figures stumble into the library, all tangled limbs and sloppy kisses. You quickly avert your eyes, but can't help but sneak another peek.

It's Heeseung and Jake - the hottest guys at your college. Heeseung is a senior, the quintessential frat boy stud. Rumpled peachy hair, broad shoulders tapering down to slim hips. Jake is the opposite - an unassuming sophomore from the honor society, glasses askew and baby face flushed red.

You've had a crush on the two of them for ages, despite their completely different social circles. Heeseung practically oozes effortless charisma and sex appeal. While Jake's innocent demeanor stirs a protective urge deep inside you.

Your thighs clench involuntarily as Heeseung pushes the smaller man against the bookshelves, grinding their clothed erections together. Why are they doing this here? A small, neglected part of your brain whispers hopefully that maybe, just maybe, it's for your benefit.

Jake lets out a breathy moan, quickly muffled by Heeseung's demanding mouth. They're really getting into it, completely oblivious to your wide-eyed stare. You should leave, right? Give them some privacy? But you're utterly transfixed, squirming in your seat.

Heeseung pulls back with a cocky grin. "You want it that bad, baby? Right here in the fucking library?" His voice is a low, gruff murmur, dripping with lust.

Jake whimpers, nodding eagerly. "Please, need you…"

Your panties are absolutely soaked at this point. Why do you feel like you're the one being teased instead? Heeseung's piercing gaze flits over to your corner, finally noticing your presence.

Rather than looking embarrassed, his signature smirk only grows wider. No, he looks…predatory. You freeze like a deer caught in the headlights. This can't be happening. Not to you, the innocent bookworm who wouldn't know what to do with a hot guy like that if you tried.

Except Heeseung doesn't give you a choice. In one smooth motion, he's sauntering over to your desk, chest puffed and knees swaggering. Jake quickly follows behind, smoothing his rumpled shirt and looking deliciously debauched.

"Well, well…looks like we've got an audience," Heeseung drawls, looming over your pitiful scribbles. Your throat is dry, heart pounding in your chest.

He leans in close, the crisp scent of his cologne and something muskier making your head spin. "You've been a naughty girl, watching us like a fucking pervert."

Jake's face is burning crimson beside you, seemingly conflicted between embarrassment and arousal. God, the two of them are gorgeous. You want them so bad, have fantasized about this very situation more times than you can count.

But you never imagined it would actually happen. And you're utterly paralyzed, heat pooling steadily between your legs.

"I think she liked what she saw, Jakey," Heeseung continues darkly. He grips your chin roughly, tilting your face up to meet his blown-out gaze. "Doesn't she look so pretty? All innocent and shit. Makes me wanna fuck her up. What do you think?"

Jake swallows thickly, shifting closer. You can feel the heat radiating off his body. His shy, hesitant voice sends delicious tingles down your spine.

"H-Heeseung…I don't know if we should…" But he doesn't protest any further as the older man captures your lips in a searing, demanding kiss. You're frozen in shock as Heeseung's lips move insistently against yours. His tongue sweeps along the seam of your mouth, demanding entry. You can't help but gasp, allowing the velvet muscle to delve inside and map every warm, wet crevice.

The frat boy kisses with a bruising intensity, like he's trying to devour you whole. One large hand fists in your hair, angling your head for deeper control. You moan shamelessly into his mouth, the sweet taste of beer and something darker on his tongue.

An envious groan rumbles from Jake's chest. His hand comes to rest on your knee, squeezing needily. You jump at the contact, pulse fluttering beneath his soft fingertips. Feeling emboldened, he shifts forward, peppering feather-light kisses along the column of your exposed neck and shoulder.

You whine at the sensation, lashes fluttering. Jake and Heeseung work in tandem, overwhelming your senses with their contrasting techniques. One utterly dominant and demanding, the other achingly gentle and worshipful. It's dizzying, heat rapidly pooling between your thighs.

When the need for air becomes too great, Heeseung breaks away with a carnal growl. His pupils are blown out, lips wet and kiss-swollen. An obscene string of saliva connects you briefly before snapping. You're left panting, hair mussed and no doubt blushing furiously.

"That's it, sweetheart. Let out those pretty little whimpers for us," Heeseung rasps, voice like gravel. His hands roam down your body, caressing the curves he's clearly admired from afar. You whimper again as he cups your breast brazenly through your thin shirt, thumbing the sensitive peak.

Jake whines against the side of your neck, rutting minutely against your thigh. You can feel his impressive bulge straining against the tight denim, begging for friction. Some deeply repressed part of you wants to drop to your knees and release his thick length with your mouth. But you're utterly powerless, helplessly trapped between the two devastatingly handsome men.

"Let's get these clothes off, yeah?" Heeseung tugs impatiently at your shirt, lips quirking at your deliciously dazed expression. Jake gives you a look full of unspoken questions, silently asking your consent. You bite your lip and nod, subtly arching your back to allow Heeseung to pull the fabric up and over your head.

The crisp library air raises goosebumps along your bare torso, peaked nipples hardening in anticipation. Heeseung hums appreciatively at the sight, hands splayed across the soft swell of your belly and ribs. He leans back to take you in, unashamed as his gaze roams over every dip and curve with rapacious hunger.

Jake lets out a shuddering sigh, breath fanning across the heated skin of your chest. His mouth latches on to your collarbone, sucking vibrant blooms of crimson and violet that'll surely last for days. The thought sends a thrill down your spine, claimed and marked by them both.

"You look so fucking good, pretty girl. All spread out just for us," Heeseung growls. He watches the display beside him with dark, hooded lids. A long, thick finger traces the outline of Jake's eager mouth, tugging his plump lower lip down obscenely. "Think I'll let my boy have his fun first. He was so cock hungry earlier, weren't you sweetheart?"

Jake flushes even deeper, pupils blown wide as he obediently sucks the digit into the scorching heat of his mouth. A hot flash of arousal streaks through you at the sight, your neglected pussy clenching with need. The smaller boy swirls his tongue around the offering reverently, lewd sucking noises filling the hush of the library.

You mewl softly as Jake diverts his attention back to you, trailing hot kisses across your chest and stomach before hovering over the waistband of your jeans. His eyes flick up to your face, pupils blown, silently seeking permission to continue this downward trajectory.

Heeseung chuckles darkly behind him, carelessly unfastening his own belt buckle. The metallic clink makes you jolt, nerves and arousal battling for dominance. "Go on, angel. Been waiting all night to get a taste of this pretty little pussy."

Heat rushes to your cheeks at his crude words, but you shakily nod. Jake's talented fingers make quick work of your jeans, tugging the restricting fabric down your trembling thighs and calves. You shift forward, lifting your hips to allow him to remove them fully, leaving you in just your simple cotton panties.

Heeseung groans, heavy cock straining against his boxer briefs. His large hand pumps the thick shaft slowly, smearing the pearly bead of pre-cum gathering at the flushed tip. "Fuck, look at you. Such an obedient little slut, already dripping for us."

You whine at his filthy words, undeniably turned on despite your innocent demeanor. He's right - the flimsy material between your legs is absolutely soaked through, a dark spot betraying the evidence of your arousal. The scent of your desire hangs thick and heady in the air between you.

Jake doesn't hesitate, nuzzling his flushed cheek against the damp cotton. You gasp sharply at the contact, hips bucking up for more delicious friction. He mouths hungrily at your clothed sex, the tip of his tongue teasing along the seam in a featherlight facsimile of what's to come.

"There you go, Jakey…taste how fucking sweet she is."

Heeseung fists his hand in Jake's soft, honey blonde locks, guiding his eager mouth along your aching folds. You tremble beneath his reverent ministrations, head thrown back in pleasure. A tiny, overwhelmed part of you still can't quite believe this is truly happening. That the objects of your deepest, darkest fantasies are lavishing their attention upon you in such an illicit way.

"P-please…" you beg breathlessly, fingers scrabbling against the worn wooden desk beneath you. Your back arches as the smaller boy licks a broad, luxurious stripe up your slit through the damp cotton. "Want…need…"

"Poor baby, you're so worked up," Heeseung coos mockingly, thumbing the glistening head of his impressive length. "Don't worry…we'll give you exactly what you need."

With an obscene growl, he hooks his fingers beneath the elastic waistband of your underwear, tugging them to the side in one sharp motion. Your glistening, swollen folds are finally exposed to the chilly air, flushed and weeping with need. You squirm under their focused gazes, suddenly shy and self-conscious.

Jake lets out a needy whine at the sight of your exposed sex. His breath ghosts over the glistening folds in hot puffs, close enough that you squirm from the sensation.

"Such a pretty fucking pussy," he rasps, voice deep and husky with lust. You moan softly as his velvet tongue laps at your slick folds experimentally.

Heeseung crowds closer, lazily stroking his thick length just inches from your face. "That's it, baby. Get her nice and messy for me."

You keen, throwing your head back as Jake seals his mouth over your entrance, that clever tongue working you open with broad, filthy strokes. He's utterly shameless, cheeks hollowed with effort as he suckles noisily at your essence. Wet squelching noises and your breathless whines fill the air.

Your hips roll in small, desperate circles, chasing more of that delicious friction. Jake accommodates readily, plush lips stretched obscenely around your aching clit. He lavishes the swollen bud with searing attention, flicking his tongue against it insistently.

"Oh-oh god…!" you sob out, trembling on the precipice of release. The coiling pleasure is exquisite, warmth blooming across your heated skin.

Heeseung chuckles smugly. He guides the weeping head of his cock to smear your lips with sticky pre-cum. You don't hesitate before opening obediently, suckling at the salty bead on your tongue. He groans approvingly, thrusting shallowly to paint your pretty mouth with his essence.

"Dirty girl…knew you'd be so good for us," he rumbles. His free hand slides into the tresses at your nape, tilting your head back further. You gag softly as the thick cockhead catches on your soft palate, thighs clenching around Jake's frantically working mouth.

Jake mewls desperately between your thighs, greedy for your impending climax. He looks utterly wrecked, hair mussed and lips red and swollen from his efforts. Yet he refuses to let up, dutifully fucking his dexterous little tongue into your sopping channel with fervor.

The orgasm slams into you with staggering force. You wail around Heeseung's cock, body convulsing as gushing waves of bliss crest over you. Jake laps greedily at the fresh rush of your arousal, glassy eyes screwed shut in concentration.

Heeseung ruts into the tight walls of your mouth, forcing you to swallow around his impressive length. Thick rivulets of drool and precum stream down your chin, lewd choking sounds tearing from your abused throat. Your head swims from overstimulation and lack of air.

"Ah fuck…keep going slut, take it all for me," he growls, hips snapping shallowly. Your makeup is utterly ruined, mascara streaking ebony trails down your cheeks. But you've never felt more debauched, more wanted in your entire life.

Just as your vision begins to darken around the edges, he pulls out with a guttural moan. His cock slaps wetly against your cheek, leaving a smear of pearly essence behind as the veiny shaft pulses. You suck in desperate gulps of air, blinking up at the frat stud through a lusty, tear-blurred gaze.

"Christ, you look like a fucking dream," he pants, roughly thumbing your spit-slick lower lip. "All messy and used up already."

Jake finally pulls away with an obscene slurp, a dazed and thoroughly fucked-out expression painting his features. His face glistens with your arousal, lips bitten red and wet. Heeseung turns his hooded gaze on him hungrily.

"Give it to me, sweetheart," he orders gruffly. Jake scrambles to obey, crawling up your body to desperately seal their lips together. You watch, transfixed, as Heeseung thoroughly plunders the other boy's mouth, no doubt tasting every musky essence lingering on Jake's skilled tongue…

You shudder at the filthy, indecent display unfolding before your very eyes. Jake is completely pliant and submissive, whimpering eagerly as Heeseung's thick fingers tangle roughly in his honey-blond hair. The ravenous kiss goes on and on, the wet sounds of their arduous french baiting and desperate groping drowning out all other noise.

Heeseung's molten gaze pins you in place with the weight of his carnal hunger. He reaches for you, large hands gripping the backs of your thighs in a bruising hold.

"Bend those pretty little legs for me, princess. Gonna show you just how fucking good I can make you feel," he growls, voice dripping with lust. You obey mindlessly, allowing him to tug you flush against his body, feet planted on the edge of the sturdy desk.

Your breath catches as the thick length of his cock drags along your dripping folds, spreading your arousal in silken streaks. Heeseung's lips quirk into that infuriating smirk as he watches your features contort with needy desperation.

With one powerful drive of his hips, he buries himself to the hilt inside your welcoming heat. Your back bows off the desk, a broken mewl torn from your chest as he stretches and fills you in one deliciously obscene thrust. Stars burst across your vision, tingling shockwaves of sensation radiating through your core.

"Fucking hell…gonna ruin this greedy little cunt," Heeseung hisses, voice tight with rapture. He wastes no time, immediately pounding into you with harsh, sharp strokes that knock breathy moans from your trembling lips.

Each powerful thrust makes your breasts jiggle enticingly, nipples peaked and aching for attention. You feel utterly split open and impaled on his cock, the velvet steel length rubbing torturous friction against your slick, spongy walls. Obscene squelches and gasps fill the library with every brutal slide.

Jake watches with rapt, shamelessly hungry eyes, his plush mouth gaped open. He strokes his own weeping length eagerly, precome drooling from the flushed head. Finally, he leans in and busies his talented tongue against Heeseung's flexing bollocks, kitten licking and sucking at the heavy, musky sac in a worshipful display.

"Ah yes…fuck…there's a good boy," Heeseung moans, snapping his hips into your fluttering heat with renewed vigor. He grips Jake's hair in a brutal fist, shoving his face more insistently against his saliva-slick balls.

The sordid visual is almost too much to bear, combined with the harsh pounding of your battered core. You're utterly suspended at the precipice, teetering on the knife's edge of blissful oblivion. Frantic whines and pleas tumble from your bruised pout shamelessly.

"Shh, gonna give you my cock like a good girl," Heeseung pants, hand drifting up to palm a hefty, swollen breast roughly. His rough palm captures your turgid nipple, rolling and tugging at the sensitive peak viciously. "Want to feel your sweet little cunt squeezing me when you cum…"

With one final, brutal snap of his hips, the barrage is too much. The frayed threads of your control snap as a blinding orgasm rocks through your very being. Back bowing off the desk like a taut cord, you cry out in shuddering bliss as rapturous pulses of euphoria convulse through your overstimulated form. Heeseung fucks you through each exquisite wave, working his cock into your fluttering spasms as your slick arousal splatters obscenely between your bodies.

He finally pulls out with a groan, thick shaft slick and gleaming with your combined essence. Jake instantly latches onto the glistening cockhead, tongue chasing every musky streak hungrily. Heeseung groans, harsh and guttural, forcing the smaller man to take his length deeper into his hollowed cheeks.

With one final shuddery gasp, his entire body seems to freeze for one endless, suspended moment. Jake's eyes flutter shut as thick ropes of pearly release are painted across his upturned features, a fresh mural of debasement and desire.

The depraved scene shifts before your lust-glazed eyes before Heeseung hauls you possessively onto his thick length once more, sheathing himself to the root inside your convulsing, creamy pussy with one brutal grind of his hips. You cry out, already feeling so deliriously full and claimed by his sheer virility.

Snarling in satisfaction, Heeseung grips the mounds of your ass cheeks in a bruising grip, starting up a punishing rhythm that has you jouncing up and down his cock obscenely. Wet squelching sounds and your breathless moans fill the library as he claims what's rightfully his.

But he's not done sharing the spoils with his smaller counterpart. Heeseung beckons Jake over with a curl of one thick finger, that predatory alpha glint in his eyes. The willowy blonde immediately crawls to obey, chest heaving with arousal at the lurid display.

"Open up for me, baby," Heeseung orders lowly. "Princess here is gonna get her pretty mouth just as fucked as her greedy little cunt."

He tugs on your hair sharply to guide your head back, exposing the line of your bruised throat. Your lips part readily, tongue lolling out in a gesture of wanton submission. Jake doesn't need any further encouragement.

He shuffles upright and aligns the flushed, weeping crown of his cock with your waiting mouth. You moan thunderously as he slides between your puffy, slicked lips. He's not quite as large as Heeseung, but the taste of his pre-release still has you quivering with arousal. He's thick and heavy and deliciously musky on your tongue.

Soon, the raw, barbaric rhythm is established. Heeseung brutally jackhammers up into your slick, spasming cunt, the desk rattling beneath you. But Jake is more measured, smooth rolls of his lean hips that bury his cock to the root in the silken confines of your throat.

You're utterly sandwiched between them, moaning deliriously around Jake's shaft as Heeseung splits you open again and again with his prodigious length. Every nerve ending has been set alight, vibrating at the peak of rapturous overstimulation.

Jake keens and grips your hair tighter, picking up the pace to thoroughly skullfuck you in tandem with Heeseung's savage thrusts. His balls slap against your chin obscenely, smearing pre-release and spit into a sticky mess across your features.

"That's it…take it like the perfect little whore you are," Heeseung snarls from above, drunk on the power trip. "Gonna pump both these tight holes full of our fucking seed…"

The crude words send shockwaves through you. Your thighs are slick and trembling, orgasms fast approaching like a runaway train. Jake seems to sense your impending rapture as well. He fucks your mouth with renewed vigor, choking out your wanton whines into garbled, muffled moans around his pistoning meat.

Heeseung unexpectedly seizes your hips in an iron grip, slamming you down onto his cock with enough force to rattle your teeth. You wail incoherently as that final, brutal thrust shatters the glass ceiling of your control entirely.

Wave after breathtaking wave of orgasmic release convulses through your ravaged form. Every muscle tenses to the point of agony as electrical pulses of ecstasy short circuit your synapses. You're utterly suspended in a dissociative state of bliss, continuous gushes of slick essence sheening your thighs and Heeseung's inhumanly thick cock.

He roars with dark satisfaction, somehow fucking you even harder through the all-consuming storm of climax. Jake whimpers helplessly, face flushing crimson as hot ropes of your drool and excess saliva stream down his shaft in filthy rivulets.

The sight seems to undo him entirely. Tensing beneath you, his movements stutter and falter as a blissful rictus overtakes his pretty features. Heeseung grins savagely and yanks Jake flush against your face, growling for you to "take that fucking load, princess."

That virile command seems to be the final push Jake needs. He arches in freefall, mouth dropping open around a hitched exhalation. The first pulse of his hot seed streaks across your tongue, filling your mouth with its bitter saltiness as you struggle to swallow every tangy pulse.

He cries out in rapturous bliss, hips jerking helplessly to milk himself to completion. Your cheeks hollow with effort, determined to drain him dry like the obedient little cockslut that you are.

"Fuck…yes, take it all you greedy whore," Heeseung growls from above, hips still pistoning relentlessly as he breeds your shuddering, spasming cunt with his brutal length.

His balls slap lewdly against your ass with every punishing thrust, the twin peaks tightening in preparation for his own impending release. You whine around Jake's cock, delighted by the prospect of being thoroughly sullied by both their viscous seed.

Jake finally pulls his spend-smeared length from the debauched 'o' of your mouth with a filthy pop. He staggers back to catch his breath, abs rippling and face gone slack with a hazy, euphoric expression.

Heeseung seizes the opportunity to crash their lips together, devouring Jake's moans with a ravenous growl. He tastes you both on the smaller man's tongue, rich and musky and filthy.

You lie there, feeling utterly impaled and ruined by Heeseung's insistent pounding. Sweat sheens your bodies, which glisten obscenely with each punishing slam of his hips. The coil of your shared pleasure is rapidly reaching its crescendo, nerves alight.

"Where do you want this fucking load, princess?" he snarls against Jake's mouth, teeth nipping at the plump flesh possessively. "Tell me like the dirty girl you are."

"I-inside!" you wail without hesitation, head thrashing against the desk. "Please…please fucking breed me like a good slut!"

Something unhinged flickers across Heeseung's chiseled features. He seizes your jaw in one large palm, grip nearly bruising as he drinks in your deliriously wrecked and wanton expression hungrily.

"That's my girl," he rumbles. Punctuated by another brutal thrust, his next words rasp out in a torrid rush of crudity. "Get ready to get that messy little hole pumped full of my thick fucking seed…"

As if guided by some primal, cosmic trigger, your bodies fall into perfect alignment at long last. His hand winds into your hair while Jake latches onto your swaying tits, suckling frantically at your peaked nipples.

Gripping you in a punishing hold, Heeseung unleashes a final flurry of piston-sharp thrusts. You soar over the edge of oblivion with a guttural scream, consciousness whiting out beneath the force of your cataclysmic rapture.

His throbbing cock slams against that velvet cluster of nerves in a delicious finale, and you spiral endlessly through the white-hot vortex of climax. Your walls flutter and pulsate greedily around his retrograde pulsing length, milking him without quarter.

Heeseung shatters apart with a groan, thick, ropey strands of virile seed flooding your spasming hole to the brink. You shudder as his essence rushes to paint every twitching contour of your insides, coating your receptive walls with its potent finish.

Thick rivulets drool and drip down the cleft of your ass as he continues to pump, determined to thoroughly lay his claim. His vicious grunts eventually trail off into euphoric huffs, cock finally spent.

You both lie there twitching and heaving for breath in the aftermath of your mutual detonation. Jake presses worshipful kisses to every inch of your marked, ravaged bodies in reverent daze. You've never felt more owned, sated or deliciously defiled in your life…

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atimeofyourlife · 1 year

Text

Steve being the one who is actually a fountain of queer knowledge because he has a gay uncle in San Francisco or New York, one of the cities that had the biggest queer communities.

Robin not having much information because she's a closeted teenage lesbian who can't drive, so she has nowhere to source that information without raising the suspicions of her parents.

Eddie doesn't have the chance because he can't afford to spend weekends in Indianapolis or Chicago, because weekends mean parties, and parties are one of the best times to deal. He might go occasionally, but just hitting up a bar to find a dude to hook up with, not getting into queer theory because he doesn't really care to. He doesn't bother to learn about hanky code or anything else, because he's not interested. All he's interested in is getting a little action.

But Steve? He spent a lot of time with his uncle, Hank, while growing up. Anytime his family was in the area, they would stay with Hank. Sure, Steve's parents would try to explain his partner, Joe, as a friend or a roommate, but Steve always knew. He could see how in love they were, even more than his parents.

It became normal for him. He heard the words that other people would throw around, how they would talk about how dangerous, how disgusting two men together was. But he couldn't understand why people thought so badly about it. Because Hank and Joe were so happy together and they weren't hurting anyone.

When he was twelve, they were the first people he told when he had the conflicting feelings of having a crush on a pretty girl named Annika in the grade above, but also really wanting to kiss Tommy every time the other boy laughed at one of his jokes. Joe and Hank just listened to him, then taught him about bisexuality. That it was perfectly normal to like both. They gave him gentle warnings, that he would have to be careful because people were cruel.

And because his parents had left him with them for a couple of weeks, they took advantage of it to introduce Steve to other people. They took him to a tiny queer bookshop that was run by a friend of theirs, giving him a space to learn in safety. Because of them, he met people of so many different orientations lesbians, bisexuals, gay men. Self-proclaimed dykes and faggots. Transexuals, men who were once women and women who were once men¹ and people that pushed the boundaries of gender entirely. He felt in awe of all these people, but also loved and accepted by everyone he met.

A few years later, the summer of '82, age 15 and between freshman and sophomore year, he was sat down for a more serious conversation. The day after he arrived, Hank and Joe sat him down for a serious talk about safe sex, in way more detail than what he got from his parents, which was just a pack of condoms appearing in his bathroom on his fifteenth birthday, with a note saying to use them so he wouldn't get a girl pregnant. The talk emphasized the need for a barrier during any type of sex, and brought up the very real risk of GRID, which had yet to be renamed AIDS², to point out why he had to be incredibly careful with everyone he had sex with. But they also made a point to reassure him that they were both okay, that he didn't have to worry about them. They made sure that he knew that they were always there for him, just a phone call away if he ever had any concerns or questions.

A year later, at 16, they decided he was ready for more information. They provided him with pamphlets and zines, covering everything from rights movements to AIDS to secret codes. He took an interest in the hanky code, but felt a little intimidated about what some of the colors meant. They also provided him with a fake id that declared that he was twenty one and that his name was Mark. While he was staying with them, he joined them out in the community. Meeting the people affected by AIDS, learning about the real effects of it and not just the few scare stories that were breaking through on the news. Hearing more stories of lived life, getting a better understanding of the people around him.

Just a few months later, November '83. When everything went to shit. Steve was terrified when he saw the photos Jonathan had taken from outside his house and developed in the school dark room. He couldn't help getting stuck on the what if? What if it wasn't Nancy he had in his room? What if it had been that night when he and Tommy got a little too drunk and kissed each other? What if he'd finally got the nerve to bring a guy home? His life could have been destroyed in seconds by an asshole being a creep.

He became more on guard, scared that at any point someone could be taking photos in his backyard. Then seeing Jonathan with Nancy in her room, it pushed him further. With the fight the next day, he just wanted to make his words hurt. He dug deep and threw out accusations that he'd never wanted to say. Allowing his anger and fear to take over. The moment the word queer left his mouth, he felt an uneasy sense of regret. Accusing someone else of being what he was, as if it was a bad thing.

After it was all over, the details were shared, the cover stories were given, the paperwork declaring that nothing had happened had been signed, Steve felt lost and alone. Even after apologizing, he still felt dirty for calling Jonathan queer. After a few days, he breaks and calls Hank and Joe, and tells them, well not everything, but what he can. The photos, the camera, the fight. What he said to Jonathan. They understood his anger and his fear. They disagreed with his choice of words, but told him that if he'd apologized and meant it, and it had been accepted, there was no point in him continuing to beat himself up about it. That he couldn't change the past, but he had to try and be better in the future.

The following summer, 1984, he joined them with a new hatred and fear of the government. He felt safer with them, not feeling like he was looking over his shoulder all the time. But he was also so worried, what if the Upside Down came back when he wasn't there to help. He threw himself into helping others, knowing there were so many ways that the government was willing to screw over citizens. Wanting to do the little he could when he could. It brought him some peace of mind, being able to do something.

After Starcourt, after getting discharged from the hospital, Steve confides in Robin. He tells her about Hank and Joe. About how much he'd learnt from them. He tells her that he's bisexual, a word she was unfamiliar with, but she embraces him anyway. He spins a story of all the different people he'd met, people that proved it could be okay for people like them.

It formed an even deeper bond between them, a shared understanding that they couldn't find in anyone else their age. They share secrets about crushes, about realizations. Judging how attractive customers are together once they got the jobs at Family Video. Steve showed Robin the zines, helping her pick up more pieces of information, about how many others there were out there.

Steve clocked Vickie pretty quickly, almost certain she was bisexual like he was. Robin struggled to believe him, not wanting to get her hopes up, or to risk getting hurt.

When Eddie crashed into their lives during the spring break from hell, Steve found himself falling hard and fast. He'd noticed the black bandana Eddie wore tucked into his back left pocket, and wanted it. He had never considered being into s&m, but would be willing to take anything Eddie gave him.

He tried to bring it up subtly to Eddie, only to be met with confusion. Even trying less subtle ways of questioning it, Eddie still didn't seem to get it. Steve had to ask if he was flagging, and Eddie responded by asking what flagging was. Steve felt mortified, and stuttered about it being a code, and he thought Eddie was gay. Eddie assured him that he was gay, but still had no clue what Steve was talking about with flagging.

Steve showed Eddie the zines as well, going through all the different colors of the hanky code. Eddie got a little embarrassed when he realized what he'd been signalling, but some of the interactions he'd had with guys the few times he'd been to a gay bar made a lot more sense.

It took a few more days after that for Eddie to realize what Steve had been getting at by bringing up him flagging. There was another awkward, and slightly embarrassing conversation to confirm that yes, they were into each other, and no, neither of them were actually into s&m.

(And of course, Hank and Joe got a kick out of the story when they were the first ones Steve told, other than Robin.)

¹I wrote it this way, as it would have been a way that twelve year old could understand different gender identities in 1979. Different language and terminology was used. I believe that it is up to individual trans people for how they describe and consider themselves pre and post coming out and transition, as it is a very personal thing. I'm non-binary and I consider anything about myself under the age of 17 to be a girl, because that's how I identified at that time. ²(AIDS was known by a bunch of different names, some less kind than others, including GRID [Gay-related immune deficiency] and 4H disease [Heroin users, homosexuals, hemophiliacs and Haitians], until the summer of 1982. The name AIDS was proposed on July 27th 1982, and came into use by the CDC in September of that year. The term HIV came into use in 1986.)

This was supposed to be a quick little headcanon, and it ended up taking me nearly a month to write 1.5k words. And I now want to write so many parts about Steve with his relationship to Hank and Joe. They're the gay uncles everyone deserves.

#steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #platonic stobin #steddie #pre steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #atimeofyourwrites

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grandline-fics · 5 months

Text

Soft Mornings With You

DESCRIPTION: Lazy mornings with them

WARNINGS: none, just fluff

CHARACTERS: Marco, Crocodile, Sanji | Ace, Law, Mihawk

WORDS: 1,404

A/N: Another part of this scenario in honour of reaching 500 followers

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST - PROMPT LIST

——————

MARCO

It was rare for Marco to get the morning to spend extra time in bed so when he knew he didn’t have to get up right away he savoured the time immensely. Still he couldn’t help waking out of years of habit and routine while the rest of the ship was sleeping and the sun had only begun to rise. He didn’t mind so much, the peace was always welcome especially given how in just a few short hours the entire ship would be lively and chaotic. Plus the time also allowed him to admire you as you slept soundly beside him, your expression content and breathing relaxed. Marco smiled when you mumbled something in your sleep and stretched out. His smile slipped when you let out a small groan of discomfort when your back arched slightly.

Immediately he closed the small amount of space remaining between you and ran his fingers along your spine, stopping when he felt the small knot that was causing you bother. Keeping her arm over you he let his powers activate until his blue wings enveloped you and the healing warmth seeped into you. Marco grinned to see you sigh in relief. Your eyes slowly opened and you smiled up at your lover. “You’re the best but it’s cruel to do this just before you need to get up and see to Pops.”

“Now, now I’m never cruel, especially not to you.” Marco chuckled, pressing a kiss against your temple. “I was given the morning off. It’s still early yet, go back to sleep love.”

“Are you going to be able to fall back asleep too?” You asked, craning your head back to look at him with a tender gaze.

“Probably not but I don’t mind.” Marco shrugged lightly, continuing to trace light patterns against your back but frowned when you began to get up. “Hey, where do you think you’re going-yoi?”

“Making the most of the quiet time we have. Come on, how often have we gotten to watch the sunrise together and that doesn’t include the times we’ve been partying with the rest of the crew?” You walked over the Marco’s side of the bed and playfully grabbed his wrist, pulling him to get out of bed but you knew you wouldn’t be able to completely make him budge unless he wanted to.

With a grin Marco leapt up abruptly, moving fast enough to scoop you into his arms and carry you out of the room and onto the desk. Already sensing what he was planning you wrapped your arms around Marco’s neck to allow him to change his arms into wings and fly you to the top of one of the Moby Dick’s many masts. Holding you close and keeping you warm, Marco lay his cheek against your head as the two of you enjoyed the quiet and soft glow of the sunrise.

CROCODILE

Crocodile finds the morning a time for brief contemplation before he has to rise and attend to his private matters. He’d never found a need to lie in and waste the morning away when there’s things to be done. However he has found that ever since you came into his life those early morning risings and getting straight to work have started to lessen. He was never a stranger to having an extra body in his bed for the brief company and warmth but this was different and that both agitated and baffled. How had he allowed this to happen? Lying on his back he turned his head to look down at you.

You slept so soundly and peacefully, curled up on your side. Your head against his bicep and hand resting on his chest, blissfully unaware of the inner conflict going on in the mind of the man you were so relaxed around. Lazily Crocodile lifted his free arm to look at his hook glinting in the small amount of sunlight breaking through the gap in the curtains. A few years ago he would have cut anyone and anything he considered a weakness out of his life by any means necessary. He cast another glance down at your form. Part of him told him to steel his resolve and do just that.

Then you moved in your sleep, beginning to roll away from him and immediately he acted out of his purest instinct and desire. Crocodile swiftly flexed his arm and lifted it slightly to redirect you so you instead rolled closer until you were slotted perfectly against him. He all but rolled his eyes when you smiled and nuzzled yourself closer against his chest. When you came along and managed to effortlessly root yourself under his skin and occupy his thoughts it was too late to do anything by the time he’d realised what had happened. He let out a small huff of annoyance at how you’d unknowingly proven that even he was capable of being human

“Croc?” You asked with a small yawn, stirring enough to look at him with sleepy eyes. “You need to get up?” You were prepared to move and let Crocodile get out of bed to ready himself for the day but you were surprised when his eyes slid closed for a moment and he shook his head.

“Not just yet, dear.” He told you, letting his hand drop to your hip and smirked when you settled happily beside him and reached across to pull his hook closer so you could admire it, letting your fingers gently skim over the cold metal. Of course you would accept every part of him so easily without any hesitation.

“So what plans for world domination have you planned today?” You asked playfully, smiling up at him as the two of you idly chatted and lay content together.

SANJI

Sanji point blank refused to surrender control of his kitchen to anyone and even if he did allow someone to cook, he would be there watching carefully and making sure nothing was disrupted or inedible. The only time the need to be awake at dawn preparing everyone’s individual breakfasts was when the crew was docked on an island and staying with newly made friends or at an inn able to handle the hurricane that was Luffy. This was one such rarity. Sanji stretched out, savouring the novelty of experiencing the chance to lie in bed for as long as he wished but he couldn’t help but lightly drum his fingers against the fabric of the blanket draped over his body and yours.

“You’re so predictable.” Your sleepy laugh drifted up and Sanji looked to you, momentarily feeling guilty at the thought that he somehow managed to wake you. You however were used to waking at the same time as the crew’s chef. It was something your body just instinctively did now as well, happening not long after you and Sanji became a couple and started sharing a bed. Sanji relaxed to see you smiling gently, looking as beautiful as ever and thankfully not in anyway annoyed at him. “You want to cook even when you have the morning free.” You grinned.

“You know me too well.” Sanji chuckled, wrapping his arms around you and drawing you closer against him for the shared warmth and comfort of your touch. “It’s like asking Luffy to part with his hat. I can’t help it.”

“We could sneak in to the kitchens…it’s still early.” You offered with a dangerous smile appearing at your own suggestion.

“Love is that wise?” Sanji asked, unable to fight his own smile from appearing, watching as you were already beginning to sit up in the bed.

“Who’s going to tell us off? We’re pirates after all.” You shrugged lightly though you and Sanji both knew that if you two did go through with this and even if you weren’t caught you’d both be respectful of the kitchens and pay the staff fairly. “What do you say? Want to make me something delicious before Luffy wakes and clears out their entire supply of food with his order?”

Sanji grinned and got out the bed, moving to get dressed. He supposed while he was down there, he would be best to at least make a start of what Luffy needed for his enormous breakfast as a way of helping out the workers at the inn. But first he would see that you got the meal you wanted.

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springtyme · 8 months

Note

farleigh start x f!reader

make it based on the party scene where he sniffs the “nose candy” off the girls hand

PLS THE FARLEIGH GIRLS ARE STARVING😫

𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐈𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 ♡

Thank you for the request ♡ I know you didn’t asked for smut per se, but I got a little carried away. I hope that’s okay, and hopefully can help feed the Farleigh girls a little ♡

Farleigh Start x afab!reader || Masterlist || Farleigh playlist

summary: You can’t help but feel a rush of conflicting emotions as you stand before him. Part of you wants to turn around and walk away, to avoid the inevitable clash that always seems to occur when the two of you are in the same vicinity. But another part of you, a part that you try to keep buried deep within, is drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

word count: 4.5k

warning/tags: smut! (18+, mdni!) Language. Drug use (cocaine). Vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, blowjob, cum swallowing. Enemies to lovers (kinda?). I had pan4bi in mind when I wrote this, but readers sexually didn’t really end up getting mentioned, but Farleigh is definitely pan/queer like in canon. This whole thing kinda started out as one thing but turned into something completely different, so just to clear any possible confusion. Reader is best friends with Venetia, being childhood friends with her and Felix, and that is how she knows Fairleigh. Reader is enrolled in a university in Cambridge, unlike Fairleigh who is in Oxford. No proofreading.

The dimly lit room is illuminated by a dazzling array of colourful lights, flickering and dancing in sync with the music. The deep reverberations of the bass are sending tremors through your body, a pulsating rhythm thumping within your chest, and even piercing your eardrums, but in the best way possible.

The scent of spilled drinks and way too expensive perfumes and colognes are hanging in the air, mixing with the distinct smell of sweat that, no matter what, or no matter how rich you are, you’ll never be able to avoid when this many people are in one place, drinking and dancing at once. It’s filling the space with a raw, primal energy, an energy which you can feel resonate within you, right into the very marrow of your bones.

You find yourself surrendering to the music, letting it guide your every movement as you roll your hips to the beat, grinding against the solid body behind you, enjoying the feeling of big strong hands on your waist. You don’t know his name and you like it that way. You’ve been needing this, it’s finally summer, you’re finally on break and away from Cambridge and you have every intent of enjoying it to the fullest.

As you let yourself be carried away by the music and the pulsating energy of the room, your eyes wander around the crowd. And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, your gaze meets the eyes of someone familiar, someone you had hoped to avoid, despite knowing it wouldn’t be possible.

As your gaze locks with his, a mix of emotions floods through you. A wave of annoyance washes over you, quickly followed by a surge of frustration.

Fucking Farleigh, the embodiment of everything you despise, stands across the room, his tall frame towering over the crowd. He’s always been a thorn in your side, pushing your buttons and challenging you at every turn. The tension between you has always been palpable, a constant battle of wits and wills.

The memories of countless arguments and bitter exchanges flood your mind, reminding you of all the reasons why you can’t stand him. Farleigh, with his arrogant smirk, like he always knows something that you don’t know, and his condescending remarks, has always managed to get under your skin. And now, here he is, invading your sanctuary of escape.

And yet, and this is something you would never admit out loud to anyone, you have always felt strangely drawn to him, a magnetic pull that you’ve never been able to fully understand. A complicated connection, really, filled with both desire and deep annoyance.

You tear your eyes away, trying to regain your composure and ignore the magnetic pull drawing you towards him. You focus your attention back on the music, trying to lose yourself in its enchanting melody and forget about Farleigh’s presence. The pulsating beats and the heat of the body pressing against yours conspire to distract you, urging you to let go and revel in the moment. You move with more intensity, swaying your hips and allowing your body to glide effortlessly with the rhythm.

But despite your attempts to ignore him, Farleigh’s image persists in your mind, and it is as if you can feel his piercing eyes on you, burning your skin. The curiosity battles with your annoyance, leaving you conflicted and uncertain.

As the music reaches a crescendo, you can’t resist the pull any longer. With a mix of defiance and determination, you break away from the stranger behind you, making your way through the crowd in Farleigh’s direction. Not because you want to speak to him, of course not, you just want to find Venetia, Farleigh just happens to stand right next to the door.

As you approach Farleigh, you can’t help but notice the way his eyes follow your every move. A flicker of amusement dances in his gaze, as if he knows the effect he has on you. Just as you’re about to pass him, Farleigh steps in front of you, a sly smile playing on his lips, the strobe lights flickering across his face, highlighting his features with pink and purple, and you feel how a warm flutter swoops through your stomach. Someone who is that annoying really don’t have any business being that handsome.

You try to step past him, but he moves with a frustrating grace, blocking your path once more. “What do you want, Farleigh?” you huff, your tone laced with impatience.

But he doesn’t answer you at first, instead, he just keeps the weird little dance going, with you trying to push past him to get through the door, and him stepping in front of you, blocking your way, until you finally take a step back, glaring up at him and you can’t help but feel a rush of conflicting emotions as you stand before him like this.

Part of you wants to turn around and walk away, to avoid the inevitable clash that always seems to occur when the two of you are in the same vicinity. But another part of you, a part that you try to keep buried deep within, is drawn to him like a moth to a flame, and it fucking frustarites you.

His voice, when he finally speaks, is a low, velvety whisper that resonates deep within your core. “Long time no see,” he says, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The scent of his cologne invades your senses, stirring up a confusing mixture of attraction and deep irritation.

With a deep breath, you muster up all the strength you have and respond, trying to match his nonchalant tone. “I was actually hoping to keep it that way,” you reply, crossing your arms.

Farleigh’s smirk widens slightly, and you can see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Well, that I find a little hard to believe. We are in my house, aren’t we?” he remarks, leaning in closer, his voice dripping with a hint of sarcasm.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, knowing that it would only fuel his satisfaction. Instead, you take a moment to study him. His sharp features are highlighted by the colourful lights surrounding you. Despite your frustration with him, there’s no denying that he has a certain magnetism that draws people in. “I wouldn’t exactly say it’s your house.” You retort, raising an eyebrow. “More like uncle’s house, isn’t it?”

Farleigh chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “Touché,” he says, his voice laced with amusement. “But you can’t deny that it’s my domain.”

You scoff, unable to resist a small smirk. “Domain? More like your little playground.”

His eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of challenge in his gaze. “Funny, because I always thought you were the one who loved a good game.”

The air between you crackles with tension, the familiar dance of wit and banter that has always characterised your interactions. Despite your annoyance with Farleigh, there’s a part of you that thrives on the exhilaration of this verbal sparring. “Maybe I do, but I have no interest in playing with you.”

Farleigh’s smirk fades slightly, replaced by a look of genuine curiosity. “No interest at all?” he asks, his voice laced with a hint of intrigue. “I find that hard to believe. You’ve always seemed to enjoy our little tête-à-têtes.”

You resist the urge to let your guard down, refusing to let him see how much his words affect you. “Just because I enjoy a challenge doesn’t mean I enjoy dealing with you,” you reply, your tone sharp and dismissive.

Farleigh’s gaze intensifies, his eyes searching yours as if trying to uncover a hidden truth. “Is that so?” he says, his voice low and velvety. “Because I have a feeling there’s more to it than that. I think you actually enjoy the tension between us, the push and pull.”

You scoff, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling that his words are hitting too close to home. “You think too highly of yourself,” you retort, attempting to sound unaffected by his observation.

Farleigh takes a step closer, his presence seeming to fill the space between you. “Maybe,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I also think you’re intrigued by me. Admit it, there’s a part of you that wants to know what it would be like to give in to that pull.”

Your heart races at his words, a mixture of anger and desire swirling within you. “You’re delusional,” you snap, your voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

Farleigh’s expression softens, his eyes searching yours with a newfound tenderness. “Am I?” he murmurs, his voice filled with sincerity. The intensity of his gaze leaves you momentarily speechless, your mind racing to make sense of the conflicting emotions coursing through you. You’ve spent so long trying to resist him, to keep him at a distance, but now, in this moment, it feels impossible to deny the undeniable connection between you.

Farleigh leans in closer, his breath warming your ear as he speaks. “You can pretend all you want, but I see right through you.” His voice is laced with a mixture of confidence and mystery that sends a shiver down your spine. Suddenly, all the people around you disappear, the only thing that matters in that moment is the charged tension between you and Farleigh. It’s as if you’re existing in a world of your own, completely detached from reality.

You can’t resist the pull any longer. “Oh, can you now..?” You murmur, slowly, you reach out your hand to wipe a stray piece of glitter away from under his eye, letting your thumb gently graze his cheek. His eyes darken with a mix of surprise and anticipation, his lips parting slightly as if attempting to say something. But before a single word can escape, you close the distance between you, pressing your lips against his in a passionate, desperate kiss.

Everything around you fades away as the electricity between you ignites, the world falling away as you become enraptured by the intensity of the moment. All the pent-up frustration and desire explode in that single act of surrender and defiance.

In this moment, you can no longer deny the complicated connection that exists between you. The magnetic pull, the mix of desire and annoyance, it all becomes clearer as you lose yourself in the kiss. The room around you becomes a blur, the music and the crowd transformed into mere background noise.

The kiss breaks, leaving you both breathless and gasping for air, but the connection remains. You meet Farleigh’s gaze, a smouldering fire burning in his eyes. And in that silent exchange, the tension and chemistry between you cannot be ignored any longer.

Farleigh’s lips curl into a satisfied smile, his eyes never leaving yours. “I knew you couldn’t resist me,” he whispers, his voice husky with desire.

You raise an eyebrow, a mixture of amusement and defiance in your expression. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself,” you retort, trying to regain your composure. “This doesn’t mean anything.”

Farleigh’s smile widens, and he takes a step closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “Oh, it means something, alright,” he murmurs, his voice filled with a tantalising promise.

A shiver runs down your spine at his words, a rush of anticipation flooding through you. As much as you want to deny it, there’s a part of you that craves the excitement and intensity that comes with being with Farleigh. You know it won’t be easy, and there will be challenges along the way, but you can’t help but be drawn to him.

With a mix of determination and vulnerability, you lean in closer, your lips brushing against his ear. “Fine, it does mean something,” you whisper, your voice filled with both defiance and longing. As the words escape your lips, you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks. The intensity between you and Farleigh has reached its breaking point, and you both know it. Without saying a word, you take Farleigh’s hand and lead him out of the room and through the big, crowded house searching for a place of solitude, finally finding it in the form of an unoccupied bathroom on the second floor.

The sounds of the party fade into the background as you step inside, the quietness amplifying the intensity of the moment. Farleigh takes a step closer to you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “Are you sure you want this?” he asks, his voice low and filled with a mix of concern and desire.

You meet his gaze, your own eyes filled with a mix of uncertainty and longing. “I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I want to find out.”

Farleigh’s lips curl into a knowing smile, the fiery desire in his eyes never wavering. He takes another step closer, closing the distance between you, his hand inching up to gently cup your cheek. You can feel the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin, electrifying every nerve in your body.

In that moment, any last doubt or hesitation you might have felt fades away as the intense pull between you becomes undeniable. You lean into his touch, closing your eyes and letting yourself get lost in the moment. His thumb caresses your cheek, and his voice, filled with a mixture of longing and assurance, whispers, “I’ll make it worth it.”

A surge of anticipation courses through your veins as Farleigh’s thumb brushes against your lips, tracing their outline with a delicate touch. Without even thinking, your own hand finds its way to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. The air around you is heavy with desire and expectation.

As your lips collide once again, the passion between you ignites, consuming you both in a fiery haze. The bathroom echoes with the rapid beating of your hearts and the soft gasps that escape your lips. Farleigh’s kiss is both tender and intense, his lips moving against yours with a fervour that matches your own. This single act of surrender has unleashed a whirlwind of emotions, leaving you craving more.

You start to walk backwards, until your back gently bumps into the vanity cabinet of the sink, without breaking the kiss even once. You first break the kiss as Farleigh’s hands find your hips, helping you jump up the counter. Your already short dress, hiking even higher up your thigh as you spread your legs to let him step in between them. “You got any nose candy?” you pant, making Farleigh chuckle, his breath warm against your lips as he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip.

“I think you already know the answer, don’t you?” he replies, his voice filled with a mix of amusement and desire. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small vial of white powder and setting it on the counter.

He carefully measures out a small amount of the powder, offering it to you on the back of his hand. You take a deep breath, feeling a rush of nerves mixed with excitement. With only a very short flicker of hesitation, you lean in, snorting the powder through your nose. The effects are immediate, a surge of warmth and euphoria washing over you.

Farleigh takes your hand, putting the vial to it to make a line for himself, but you stop him before any of the coke has left the container. “No, here.” You say, placing your hand behind you on the counter and leaning back, exposing your bare collarbone, inviting him to snort the line off your skin. Farleigh’s eyes widen, clearly liking your suggestion, his gaze locked on the vulnerable expanse of your skin before a smirk tugs at the corners of his lips, lining up a stripe for himself.

As he leans in, his breath tickles your skin. His fingers, delicate and precise, trace the line of the cocaine on your collarbone before he leans down, his lips brushing against your skin as he inhales the white powder. A shiver races through your body at the touch of his lips against your sensitive skin, the combination of the drug’s rush and Farleigh’s proximity sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. You both linger in this moment, caught between desire and the heightened state induced by the substance. Everything in the bathroom seems to fade away as you focus on the connection between you and Farleigh - the electric current that flows between your bodies, the shared need for a temporary escape. Farleigh pulls back, his eyes dark and heavy with desire as he locks his gaze with yours.

“Come here,” you all but moan, making him chuckle. The lingering scent of his luxurious cologne fills the air, prompting you to inch closer on the countertop, savouring every breath of him. You reach out, pulling Farleigh closer as you crash your lips together once more, the kiss growing even more passionate and heated than before. And as the kiss deepens even more, Farleigh’s hands start to explore your body, one trailing up your thigh while the other gently cups your cheek. Your own hands roam eagerly over his frame, feeling the heat and power emanating from him.

The bathroom becomes a blur of sensations, the feel of his hands on you, the taste of his lips on yours, the intoxicating scent of his cologne surrounding you. Time seems to lose all meaning as you lose yourself in the moment, giving in to the intoxicating combination of pleasure and desire. As he finally breaks the kiss, his lips trail a path down your neck, leaving a trail of sweet kisses in their wake. The heat between you builds with each passing moment, every touch and caress leaving you craving for more.

As Farleigh’s lips find their way to the sensitive curve of your collarbone, you let out a soft gasp, a jolt of pleasure shooting through your body, his touch igniting a fire within you. His hands roam over your thigh, inching higher and higher, until he reaches the delicate fabric of your now soaked panties, carefully teasing and brushing against your most sensitive area. Your breath hitches in anticipation as his touch sends a surge of arousal coursing through you.

Unable to contain your desire any longer, you guide his hand to where you need him most, sliding your panties to the side. His fingers waste no time in exploring, gently parting your slick folds and finding your throbbing clit. Soft moans escape your lips as he circles his fingers around your sensitive bud, the pleasure building with every stroke. “Damn, you’re so wet,” he whispers huskily, his voice laced with desire. His fingers skillfully dance along your swollen nub, expertly coaxing you closer and closer to the edge.

The bathroom becomes a sanctuary of pleasure and intimacy as Farleigh expertly works his fingers, gradually increasing the rhythm and pressure. You tilt your head back, surrendering yourself completely to the ecstasy flooding your senses. You arch your back, pressing yourself closer to his hand, eager for more. The need for release consumes you, the overwhelming sensation heightening with each passing second. Farleigh, ever attuned to your desires, gives you exactly what you crave. His fingers quicken their pace, increasing the pressure against your throbbing clit, using his other hand to push, first one, then two, fingers into your craving cunt, pumping into you, while still working your clit.

Lost in the blissful haze, you feel your walls tighten around his fingers, signalling your imminent release. Every touch becomes electrifying as you chase that elusive peak. And when the wave of pleasure crashes over you, it’s all-consuming. Your body trembles with the force of your orgasm, your moans echoing off the bathroom walls.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby,” he whispers, his voice raw with desire as he continues to ride out your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure with his skilled fingers. He keeps his touch steady and relentless, expertly drawing out every ounce of bliss from your pulsing core. It’s a relentless dance of pleasure and sensation, leaving you gasping for breath as the ecstasy courses through your veins.

Farleigh withdraws his fingers, the absence of his touch leaves you yearning for more. He brings them to his mouth sucking off your juices. “Fuck… you taste good, I think I need to get a better taste, baby” he smirks.

“Please, Farleigh,” you hate that you’re begging, but fuck how you need more of him. “N-need more…” you squirm a little in your seat, squeezing your thighs together in anticipation. Farleigh smirks again, unlike you he is clearly very glad to hear how pleading and desperate you are for him.

He sinks to his knees before you and slowly pulls your soaked panties down your legs, leaving you completely exposed and vulnerable before him all the while keeping eye contact with you. Without a word, he leans in, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive skin. His lips brush against your inner thighs, teasingly light and gentle, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through you. As his mouth moves closer to your throbbing core, you grip the edge of the counter, desperately trying to steady yourself.

The anticipation is almost unbearable, the teasing kisses and licks making you ache for more. Finally, his lips press against your clit, his tongue immediately finding its rhythm as he expertly swirls and flicks, drawing moans of pleasure from deep within you. Each flick of his tongue sends shockwaves of ecstasy through your body, building the pleasure to dizzying heights. He alternates between delicate licks and sucking motions, knowing exactly how to drive you wild. The sensation is overwhelming, and you lose yourself in a haze of pleasure.

The sounds of your moans fill the room, your pleasure echoing off the walls. You can feel the pressure building inside you, your climax approaching rapidly. And just when you think you can’t hold on any longer, the dam breaks, and you surrender to the powerful waves of your orgasm. Stars explode behind your closed eyelids as your body convulses with pleasure, your voice reaching heights you didn’t know were possible.

Farleigh doesn’t let up, continuing to lap at your sensitive clit, prolonging your ecstasy until you’re completely spent. As the waves of pleasure subside, he pulls away, a satisfied grin on his face as he looks up at you, his lips glistening with your essence. You struggle to catch your breath, your entire body still trembling from the intensity of your release as Farleigh gets up from the floor. You close your eyes for a second, as you take in the reality you’re living in now, a reality where you have been eaten out by Farleigh fucking Start, and now in this moment you almost can’t recall why you ever disliked him.

As your body slowly comes down from the heights of pleasure, you open your eyes again, breathing heavily, to find Farleigh staring at you with hunger in his eyes. His own desire is evident, his chest heaving with shallow breaths. Reaching out, you grab hold of his shirt, pulling him closer. “Your turn,” you say, your voice vibrating with anticipation.

A mischievous smile plays on his lips as he realises what you have in mind. Without a word, he unbuttons his shirt, revealing a toned chest. He shrugs off his shirt, allowing it to fall to the floor as he confidently steps out of his shoes. Every movement he makes is deliberate, a display of raw sensuality that only intensifies your desire for him.

With a mixture of excitement and confidence, you jump down from the counter and step toward Farleigh, your legs feel like jelly, but you don’t let that stop you. Your hands find their way to the waistband of his pants, fingers skillfully unfastening them. As his pants pool at his feet, you run your hands up his muscular thighs, feeling the contours of his body beneath your touch.

Your gaze flickers upward, locking eyes with Farleigh, the intensity in his gaze mirrored in your own. Without breaking eye contact, you drop to your knees, fully engulfed in the moment. You trail kisses along his inner thighs, teasing and taunting him. His breath hitching with every kiss, the anticipation in the room building with each passing moment.

As you reach his hardened cock, you wrap your fingers around him, feeling his heat and the pulsing desire that emanates from him. He is big; girthy, with a nice vein lining the underside of his shaft. Your tongue flicks out to taste him, eliciting a low growl from his throat, before you pool spit in your mouth, letting it fall from your mouth and down his shaft. With a combination of skill and eagerness, your mouth encloses around him, the heat and wetness enveloping him.

As your lips slide up and down his length, you can feel him growing even harder, his breaths becoming more ragged. You use your hand in synchronisation with your mouth, working him tirelessly, determined to bring him to the brink of release, moaning around his cock while breathy praises leaves his mouth.

The bathroom becomes a symphony of moans and heavy breaths as the pleasure builds between you. Your lips and tongue work magic, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. And when he finally succumbs to the overwhelming ecstasy, he spills himself into your waiting mouth, his moans of pleasure echoing off the bathroom walls.

You take him in, savouring the taste of him as his release warms your mouth as you swallow him up. It’s an act of trust and vulnerability, something you, just an hour ago, could never have imagined to be between the two of you. As he finally catches his breath, his hands gently lift your chin, guiding you back to your feet.

Your eyes meet, a shared understanding passing between you. “You know, uh…” you start, Taking in a deep breath. “Venetia asked me to stay for a bit, I’ll be here at Saltburn for the next two weeks.” you whisper, letting the implication of your words hang in the air for a moment.

Farleigh’s eyes widen with surprise, a mixture of excitement and hope flickering in his gaze. He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch your cheek. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you can see the longing in his eyes.

“Two weeks?” he repeats, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and anticipation. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

You smile, a mix of mischief and desire in your gaze. “I’m saying that we have two weeks to explore this... connection between us,” you reply, your voice filled with a tantalising promise. “But let’s make one thing clear, Farleigh. This doesn’t mean that I like you now,” and you hate how it isn’t really true.

Farleigh’s smile widens as he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. “I guess I have two weeks to change that.”

Thank you for reading! If you want, please leave a comment or reblog to let me know what you thought of it ♡

916 notes · View notes

ripplestitchskein · 6 months

Text

Today I wanna rant talk about this

Versus

This

A lot, and I mean A LOT of people use these two moments as a way to compare Stolas and Blitzø with Fizz and Asmodeus. Specifically, Asmodeus with Stolas. And I get it, both Tiny Clown Imp with Giant Bird Aristocracy. Both dealing in different ways with the social hierarchy of hell. People keep using it as a “well Stolas HID while Asmodeus declared” and yes, that’s true but I don’t actually think we’re meant to be comparing Stolas and Asmodeus, at least not about this specific thing.

Blitzo doesn’t need someone to declare their love for him, he needs to declare his love for someone else.

People put the “Stolas is ashamed of Blitzo because of his station” on Stolas a lot and it is shown multiple times that it is not a factor for Stolas. He even like…sings about how it’s not an issue? Explicitly. The different stations was an issue for Asmodeus for awhile based on thier convos and the hiding. And it was for Fizz, though for different reasons I’ll get into in another post cause this is already going to be long as fuck. But this social hierarchy, famous person conflict is 100% Blitzo.

Blitzø is the only person who should be interpreting Stolas hiding his face as being because of the social disparity because that is a hangup of his. We, the audience, should know better because we’ve been shown the truth, or the reality of the situation in the scope of the show, MULTIPLE times. Blitzø is the one who harps on the class disparity, he’s the one who has the perception that Stolas is only looking for a fetishcentric fuck with the common rabble. The audience is supposed to see Blitzø’s reaction and know he is wrong, that this interpretation is because of one of his character flaws of feeling not good enough, and being compared to people, not because of the reality, because we have proof otherwise. Including the canon song where Stolas fucking says it outright.

There is a lot of talk about the “solution to Stolitz” being Stolas loudly and publicly declaring their relationship ala Asmodeus. But…Stolas already did his big public declaration at the BEGINNING way BEFORE Asmodeus. Stolas did it in The Circus flashback. He reinforced it at the Harvest Moon festival. He reinforced it at Ozzie’s.

His initial public declaration was following up a Imp leaving his bedroom in front of the Ars Goetia yelling “Sorry I fucked your husband” after a big aristocratic party by coming out well fucked and loudly screaming he was getting a FUCKing DIVORCE and ripping a banner in front of some of the most socially influential people in Hell. He then publicly thirsts over Blitzø at the Harvest Moon festival, multiple times and by name AND species. He takes Blitzo’s hand, and goes on a public romantic date with him, even reminding the doorman of who he was and who he was with and THEN when all eyes are still on them after the song at Ozzie’s, despite everything said, reaches out to him across the table and then gets up and leaves with him even taking his car home when he has the ability to just portal. No one who converses with him about Blitzø is left with any ambiguity that they are involved, not Stella, not Striker, not Octavia, he loudly declares he is into the imp to anyone who will listen, often in front of Blitzø, which he cringes away from and insists is just a transactional fucking.

The contrast to be drawn between Asmodeus making a public declaration shouldn’t be on Stolas but BLITZØ. He’s the one who needs to declare it, Stolas already has, repeatedly and out loud, and in public already.

Blitzø is the one who can’t say it out loud. He’s the one who shies away from conversations about it and dismisses it when anyone brings it up. He uses the excuses of social class and it being only for sex to justify his own inability to own it. There’s a reason all his exes are massively famous people who got famous after he destroyed the relationship. With Verosika it’s pretty clear she was super into him and he dipped. It’s not clear if it was because she was getting famous, that might be revealed, but the hints we have (her tattoo, his stealing her credit cards and disappearing) is that the end of that relationship was all Blitzø. When people find out he was in a relationship with her he is uncomfortable with the fact that she is famous, he goes out of his way to separate himself from her fame. Because people react exactly as he expected them to, incredulous someone famous could be into nobody Blitzø.

Somewhat ditto with Fizz, at least at first. Fizz was shown to be already pretty well known by the end of their friendship. Because of Blitzø’s self worth issues he doesn’t believe someone like Fizz could reciprocate his feelings, he sees him surrounded by people and doesn’t feel worthy to be one of them so he turns away and accidentally burns down a circus doing so. While a confession from Fizz first, if he felt the same way, might have prevented the catastrophe we have no way of knowing if Blitzø would have done the same thing to Fizz he did to Verosika and let his self worth issues eventually destroy their relationship too, especially after he signs on with Mammon. A big theme of their comments to each other before their reconciliation are about the disparity in fame, Fizz is also an imp so it’s not social class, but that Fizz is a beloved, famous figure and Blitzø failed at becoming one.

The Circus illustrates this so well, Blitzø is the failure who keeps trying his hardest and Fizz is the one who steps in and just kind of naturally does it. Blitzø’s dad makes no secret of the fact that Fizz is the more desired one. We also see Stolas appreciating Blitzø for who he is. Laughing against the crowd, just like during the sitcom taping, he doesn’t care about the public’s reaction to Blitzø, it doesn’t lessen Blitzø in his eyes at all.

We have also seen Blitzø be told very publicly a person loved him already as well and it STILL wasn’t what he needed. Verosika has it literally tattooed in a prominent place on her body, out there for everyone to see.

He doesn’t want a public declaration, he fears making one of his own and being compared to the one he declared for. “That guy is with THEM?!” It happens when Verosika steals his parking space and everyone realizes they dated, and it happens when the crazy fan goes after Fizz. People dismiss Blitzø in favor of the famous person he is with.

Hearing that, again, would invite the scrutiny that would just further validate that he’s not good enough, that he’s lesser and lower. That’s been his experience so far. Stolas declaring it would just put the spotlight on him once more, and I think it would actually make things worse for him mentally and emotionally. His reaction to Ozzie outing Stolas as his date to the crowd shows us this. I believe it’s why he split up with Verosika, the more famous she got the more eyes on him that could find him lacking. He’d be in the spotlight and his act wouldn’t be able to measure up to hers.

Just like at the circus with Fizz when they were kids, or during the sitcom, when eyes are on Blitzø he fails. Stolas gave him a bit more confidence each time. Not by loudly yelling “Hey, I like him!”to sway the audience, but just by quietly and genuinely laughing at his jokes and appreciating Blitzø for who he is. Stolas I think realizes this consciously, he sings it in Look My Way that the realm doesn’t appreciate what Blitzø is and because of this Blitzø built up walls around himself to protect from that lack of appreciation. Stolas tries to hype Blitzø up, he does so in the Harvest Moon Festival early on in their relationship but it makes Blitzø uncomfortable because the public declarations bring eyes to him. He has like….relationship stage fright in a sense. Imo the last thing Blitzø needs is another loud declaration.

Stolas though, he does NEED it. He has had one romantic partner publicly declare they don’t love him to all who will listen for like well over a decade, and now he needs a partner who will make it really really clear they do and I think preferably out loud where others can hear.

Stolas’s conflict and flaw is his family and his desire for reciprocal love. The shame of being an adulterer, of destroying the idealized family he strived for and the image he projected for so many years. And especially, the loneliness of his “romances” being one sided. With the exception of Octavia all of Stolas’s surrounding family and “friends” don’t give a fuck about him and he knows it. Why would Blitzø be any different? He also needs someone to choose him outside of a business or familial relationship. Stella was an arranged marriage to produce a heir. Blitzø was a sexual transaction for the grimoire. Octavia is his daughter. His relationship with his father shows that he isn’t special to him either. Paimon doesn’t even know his name. Stolas has no one declaring for him.

There’s a reason most of Stolas’s issues are told though “images”. The family portraits, the Sinstagram posts of Blitzø appearing annoyed or disinterested while Stolas does not see the picture Blitzø took, because that is his primary issue, he destroyed the image of himself he was trying to project for a chance at a reciprocal relationship. That image maintenance has nothing to do with Blitzø’s imp status, but more the public lack of perceived reciprocity in his romantic dealings.

He knows he looks like a fool, putting himself out there and not getting a confirmation back. This is why every problem Stolas had with his marriage seemed to come down not to attraction or status but mutual feeling. He doesn’t feel bad for cheating because Stella made it clear she didn’t care about him for him. Stella tells everyone loudly and publicly, even before Stolas cheated, how she feels about him. So as soon as Stolas can he jumps at the chance to say “HEY EVERYONE SOMEONE DOES LIKE ME! HE HAD SEX WITH ME AND EVERYTHING”and yelling out “THE ONLY MAN WHO CAN FUCK ME”. Flirting with Blitzø in front a crowd of people. He desperately wants to be publicly desired, to know he’s loved and for others to know he’s loved too.

I don’t think it matters to Stolas at all that who he cheated with was below him in terms of social hierarchy, or that people know about it, and he hasn’t ever indicated visually or with words that Blitzø being an imp was the root of those issues for him. Stella brings it up because she’s obsessed with status and EVERYONE KNOWS that her husband fucked an imp and is now divorcing her. Asmodeus brings it up because the entire Lust song at Ozzie’s is to distract the audience from his very real love affair with Fizz and maintain the public fiction that what he and Fizz have is just physical.

The whole social hierarchy issue is a deflection, and a misdirection.

This is further emphasized by the fact that Fizz and Asmodeus fucking isn’t even really an issue? People seemed to know they were fucking, like them being walked in on at breakfast and loudly declaring “ we are just banging, we are not in love”. The social hierarchy conflict as an external factor kind of falls apart on that alone but let’s move on. It’s not 100% clear if people outside of the household knew about Fizz and Asmodeus so we can maybe assume the public at large did not. But higher level demons being in a relationship with lower level ones doesn’t appear to be an issue? Like most of the powerful demons we see are actually in relationships with someone from a lower class. Even Mammon surrounds himself with imps and relies on one for his business.

Blitzø sure as fuck brings it up as a justification for why he’s not good enough. But Stolas doesn’t.

He’s even been shown visually and deliberately as forgetting that it’s even a factor, starting with his bowing to Blitzø as a baby owl and then again as an adult. So the comparison of these two moments as being about shame regarding social status for Stolas doesn’t make any sense to me. I don’t think it’s about social status at all really. I think that’s the excuse Blitzø uses to push people away and that’s just as much about social status as it is their fame. I’m not saying it’s not a larger theme of the show, but I think in this instance and for Stolitz it’s a distraction from the larger issues Blitzø has.

Stolas doesn’t need to publicly declare their relationship for an audience to solve their relationship issues because he already did, and I think we’ll see that the reason it’s such a huge plot point for Asmodeus and Fizz (beyond it being tied to their specific roles in Hell as the King of Lust and a public figure) is that it needled to be removed as an obstacle in BLITZØ’S mind.

Blitzø was the one present to witness the public declaration between Asmodeus and Fizz at the competition, not Stolas. If the comparison was between Stolas’s behavior and Asmodeus’s he would BE there, we, the audience, would have him there to connect that conflict in our mind as being rooted in Stolas. But he isn’t, because that conflict is 100% Blitzø. He won’t be able to use the imp versus demon thing as an excuse anymore as there is a very public example of someone even higher than Stolas loving an imp that he personally knows. Not only that but we see no indication in the episodes after Ozzie’s that there was ANY fallout for Stolas or Blitzø having their relationship outted so publicly. We see a big press todo about Stolas going to the hospital but not a single scene of like press asking Blitzø or Stolas about their relationship or the scene at Ozzie’s. Because no one but Blitzø actually cares? Scenes in media show us what’s important and if it was actually important to the larger world of Helluva Boss we’d have scenes to show that. There is no press coverage after the Not Divorced party, none after the Harvest Festival and none after Stolas officially makes moves to divorce Stella. He has assassins follow him around but not press. We DO get those press scenes when Fizzarolli and Asmodeus come out as being in love, because they are big public figures, but the only people who even mention Stolas and Blitzø are contained to Ozzie’s alone, and really it’s just Wally, Fizz and Asmodeus. The rest of the club is just interested in the spectacle.

The point of the hiding Stolas’s face behind the menu was not to tell audience he was ashamed of Blitzø, or that his being with Blitzø is a problem for him socially, but to reinforce Blitzø’s excuses to himself that it is, and highlight Blitzø’s self worth issues. This is further confirmed when Stolas reaches out to him across the table even though they are still in public and then later when he verbally expresses to Blitzø that he’d like to spend time with him without sex, tells him he enjoyed spending time with him outside of the arrangement, makes himself physically uncomfortable in the van just to spend more time with him. All of which Blitzø refuses to believe and dismisses. All of their interactions are shown as Stolas being the one to put himself out there, sometimes to a desperate cringe inducing degree, and Blitzø shutting it down and only expressing that his external protestations are not his true feelings by his avoidant looks, stumbling over his words and excuses, and his “protesting too much”. We as the audience see he’s full of shit through the reactions of others, Millie and Moxxie and Fizz specifically calling Stolas his boyfriend or being skeptical of the bullshit Blitzø spews to diminish the relationship.

For Stolas the song at Ozzie’s was a reminder that he had done something that fucked up his family and frankly his life as he knew it, tarnishing his image as a husband and father, and that fuck up has nothing to do with Blitzø being an imp, everyone knew that already for the most part from the very first time they had sex, but because Blitzø was the catalyst for the risk he took. He used to have the image of his family and his Princely appearance to hide behind and now we’ve shone a spotlight on who he really is, a lonely, soon to be divorcee, on a date with a demon who has acted completely dismissive of him, even outright ignoring him and ghosting at times.

A good way to highlight this issue with image is when Stolas nervously giggles and tries to over the top declare “we are having a perfectly normal date!” to the waitress by playing it off as being okay and trying desperately to get Blitzø to participate. He’s being publicly humiliated again and he tries to play it off and cover it up.

We see it again in his text messages from after Ozzie’s, he is so desperately trying to show Blitzø that it didn’t bother him, but that if it bothered Blitzø he’d like to talk about it. He tries to front it as “I don’t mind jokes about myself, it was pretty funny hahaha” but we as the audience see it for the pathetic attempt at faking it is. Laughing it off and pretending it doesn’t bother him is what Stolas does but he still made an attempt, he still tried. Stolas is from what we see extremely comfortable expressing his feelings, loudly and at length. It when he gets rejected for them that he pretends it’s not how he feels. And once again, he reaches out to Blitzø, gets shut down after putting himself out there and then acts as if everything is fine.

During the song at Ozzie’s , when the spotlight comes to Stolas, Asmodeus starts reminding him he “destroyed” his life, his family, and his image for a dude who does not outwardly appear to return his feelings, who is in fact just fucking him, and not even because he is interested in Stolas, but because he is using Stolas for the book. Every time Stolas tries for more he gets slapped back. He threw everything away for more of what he already had, a loveless business arrangement. He’s not shamed by the fact that Blitzø is an imp but that he ripped apart his picture perfect life for a guy who was acting distracted and ignoring him, who at times is completely turned away from him, and who is sitting across from him visibly uncomfortable at being called out as being on a date with him, and who he cannot get to agree to anything more despite his desperately trying.

Stolas’s part of the Ozzie’s episode opens with Gabriela yelling “Why won’t you LOVE ME ALEJANDRO” and then the man puts a streak in his hair to call back to it and people are still thinking it’s about status for him?

He just watched Blitzø stand up for Moxxie and Millie but when the focus turns to Stolas Blitzø cringes and makes himself small.

Lets break down what actually happens on screen because it is ALL in the visual choices made by the artists and what the song is actually about, lust being more acceptable than love because love is embarrassing and Blitzø hates to be embarrassed:

Moxxie starts singing, and after he sings “I loooove you” the shot jumps to Blitzø who CRINGES and shrinks a bit behind his menu. Publicly declaring your love for someone in public like that? Fucking Yikes. Bro.

Blitzø stands up and defends Moxxie and Millie but not necessarily to support their love, but their sexual relationship. This says a lot about which one Blitzø thinks of as being publicly acceptable.

Fizz turns his attention to Blitzø and the entire call out is about his bad love life, not his social status, and not even necessarily his level of fame but his failures as a romantic partner and the state of his relationships. It’s interesting that the song turns to this lack of love since just a few verses previously they act as though a romantic relationship is anthema to what they are all about. As soon as Fizz starts talking about his LOVE life Blitzø looks nervously at Stolas out of the corner of his eye.

Stolas is shocked as the song starts in on Blitzø but he doesn’t leave or shrink away immediately, he makes this absolutely hysterical face when Verosika is singing.

Blitzø does NOT like that Verosika is singing about their relationship. He crosses his arms and gets very sour pussed.

Then when Verosika starts getting more predatory, and going in on Blitzø physically, Stolas STANDS UP and looks as though he’s going to intervene.

The Wally Whackford yells “Are you sleeping with an Imp?” And Stolas remains standing, in the spotlight for several seconds. He doesn’t even start to move away to get out of it until Asmodeus comes up into his space and the scrutiny is all on him. He still doesn’t hide his face nor does it look necessarily shamed, it looks surprised and scared with where this is going and to have the attention on him but he does not look shamed. In fact, he doesn’t react to the imp comment at all, he is just as shocked and surprised as before Wally yelled as he is after. He keeps making this same shocked and scared face the whole time. We continue to see the crowd throughout all this and the scene is from a wide shot. It’s from the main POV, which is largely Blitzø’s.

The POV then switches to ONLY Stolas’s, we are seeing THROUGH his eyes and what HE sees is his family turning away from him and then they shove Blitzø in a chair, make him the center of Stolas’s vision and he’s left with Blitzø’s embarrassed, cringing face. The crowd, the club, everything else is painted out. From Stolas’s POV he doesn’t see or register the public, he sees and registers his family and Blitzø. They are center of his vision and the club and its patrons aren’t even present in the shot. If the issue was the social status we would have no need to remind the audience of Stella and Octavia by projecting their images and then having a sequence where they turn, walk away and burst into flames. Wally’s comment would be enough to establish it. The crowd would be visible because they would be what matters to Stolas. But it isn’t, we have to dive into Stolas’s POV, get a visual reminder of his family and see how Blitzo looks from Stolas’s POV.

We pull back to the outside POV and Stolas sits and stares for an entire beat after the POV shift (a technique used to tell the audience THIS was how Stolas saw the situation, now we’re back to the main POV), Blitzø is still shrinking away from him and THEN after Asmodeus says “you sold your life for a thrust” is when he hides his face. Yes, I did slow down the animation to actually see the sequence shot for shot and yes, it is a sign I have lost my mind.

But it’s important! This technique is really common in literature and media, you introduce one character’s conflict or flaw and then, to show that it contrasts with another character’s situation you jump into their POV, this is to remind the audience that there is a difference between them, that they are seeing this situation from two different places. The shots are wide for the social status implication that speaks to Blitzø’s issues with public declarations and his own self worth and we jump into Stolas’s just to remind the audience HEY, THIS IS ISNT WHAT STOLAS IS THINKING IN CASE YOU FORGOT ABOUT THE MAIN REASON THEY ARE NOT ON THE SAME PAGE, and then we just jump back to wide shots and bringing Blitzø back as the character whose flaw is being depicted.

The rest of the shots are from main POV and show Blitzo reacting to that. A deliberate contrast is set between what Stolas perceived and what Blitzø did. They present this direct visual contrast using a POV switch to show it. From Stolas’s POV he is being shamed not by the public, who didn’t factor into his POV at all, but by the loss or strain of his familial relationships and by Blitzø presenting himself completely differently when the focus is on HIS relationship with Stolas versus how he reacted to Moxxie/Millie and even Verosika.

From Stolas’s perspective and the audiences Blitzø was relatively okay up until Verosika pushed him, then we see Stolas’s reaction to that. That’s when Blitzø’s entire demeanor changes. He wilts, he shrinks, he makes himself small. Before that he winced a little but mostly he seemed annoyed. Until it gets turned on his date with Stolas. And we see this confirmed through Stolas’s POV, that we are seeing Blitzø how Stolas is seeing him looking sheepish and unhappy right in the center of the shot.

You sold your life for a thrust” is so important in this sequence, Blitzo just basically confirmed from his contrasting reactions and body language throughout the song that what they have is just sex, and we know from Stolas asking Asmodeus about the crystal and following up on it that he is really focusing on the transactional aspect of it and the situation he put an unwilling (at least in his mind) Blitzø in. This is just another bad arrangement like his marriage.

We don’t have onscreen confirmation, so this is more speculation but I imagine Stolas is probably comparing himself to Paimon a bit. His father purchased an unwilling imp to play with him as a child, the imp pretended to be into him to use him for the family treasure and now he’s essentially purchasing the same imp and that same imp appears to once again just be tolerating him for material gain.

Anyway, enough thoughts that depress the fuck out of me.

When we switch back to Blitzø after M&M finish their song we see the public again through their clapping and see his reaction. Now the issue at large is firmly back to the inferiority complex. Blitzø started shrinking and cringing away as soon as the famousness of his date was revealed, as soon as the crowd does exactly what he fears, comparing him to his partner and finding him lacking. Then we have Stolas reaching out, with no regard for the crowd who is back around them in the shots until the hand close up, and Blitzø shuts him down. Again. Once more we have Stolas visibly reaching out and trying to give Blitzø what Blitzø is outwardly projecting he wants (just like Stolas does with the dirty talk), and Blitzø being the one to say something annoyed or dismiss it. There is literally nothing Stolas can do to resolve this, because it’s an internal issue for Blitzø. Stolas externally declaring to every realm in hell won’t fix Blitzø needing to believe it and declare it for himself.

The conversation at Stolas’s house after reinforces everything, that Stolas is trying to do what Blitzø is projecting he wants. Blitzø appears to have an issue with their relationship being just about sex, the same person who goes out of his way to force all his non-familial relationships to be just about sex (even Moxxie and Millie, and when he turns a heartfelt reconciliation sexual with Fizz by asking to make out) and Stolas offers him multiple options for more of a romantic or comforting evening, because it’s what he wants as well, and Blitzø ignores that entirely, just outright refuses to acknowledge it. In the hospital we see Stolas tried AGAIN after Ozzie’s via text to work it out, and talk it out, but when Blitzø shuts it down again and when his initial approach didn’t work, Stolas tries just brushing it off and putting up that happy EVERYTHING IS OKAY image again.

So all this billion words and unhinged analysis to say that Stolas is not Asmodeus, he isn’t the one who needs to make the declaration, that won’t actually solve Blitzø’s problem and he already has put himself out there multiple times. Stolas is Fizz, obsessed with putting on a show.

Blitzø’s issues are internal and multiple people have tried to show him in external ways they love him and he either relates it back to sex, dismisses it entirely or physically removes himself from their lives. This is understandable considering when he does put himself out there he gets rejected, (circus audience, Barbie, his various gigs before I.M.P, Loona sometimes) or people act incredulous that someone could be with him. So the only way for him to complete this character journey is to internally reconcile and externally express.

Stolas is much more external about his issues, he tries putting on a happy face, laughing things off, trying to have a perfect day at LooLoo Land with a disinterested daughter, flirting outrageously with a disinterested partner, he wants the external situation to reflect what he feels inside but those around him don’t give that to him. He tries to have a perfect marriage, he gets a partner who throws obnoxious parties for what appears to be the chance to ridicule him publicly. He tries to have a perfect day at LooLoo Land to recapture happier times and accidentally alienates his daughter. He talks about how much he wants to bone Blitzø because that’s how Blitzø approached him and what he seems to be into in his relationships and is the only way he allows Stolas into his life at all, and in return he gets annoyed looks and insults.

“Or Is it Me?” In Look My Way makes me tear up every goddamn time because Stolas believes there is some internal problem within himself, that he cannot give Blitzø what he needs because he’s BEEN TRYING to be what Blitzø seems to want and gets nothing back no matter what approach he takes. No one will externally acknowledge him. Stolas doesn’t have an internal problem accepting his feelings and who they are for, regardless of status or consequences, he clearly says this in Look My Way and shows it before that with his over the top behavior, he needs someone from outside himself to acknowledge and reciprocate it.

So yeah, I disagree with the idea that Blitzø is the one who needs a public declaration. He might need a private one to take away his excuses but I don’t think he needs Stolas to do what Asmodeus did. What Blitzø seems to need is to be brave enough to declare his feelings for once and not shy away from the attention that comes with that. To accept himself as he is, like Stolas accepts him, and that realize he is just as worthy of love as the other people in his life. Stolas needs a declaration to validate his internal feelings, ease some of his loneliness with confirmed reciprocity and to have outwardly what he wants inwardly.

Thanks for reading if you did. I am sorry for being the way I am.

#stolas x blitz #stolitz #stolas #blitzo #helluva boss meta #long post #long reads #i’m sorry

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yourmomsawh0r3 · 17 days

Text

Bane of my existence

pairing: benedict bridgerton x f! reader

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: 18+, NSFW

Your history with Benedict Bridgerton had long been marked by sharp barbs and subtle jabs, a rivalry that stretched back to your earliest years. From the very moment you first met, your differences had been irreconcilable, and thus, the Queen’s daughter and the second Bridgerton son had found themselves at constant odds, locked in a battle that spanned childhood, youth, and now adulthood.

The first incident you could recall occurred at the tender age of eleven, at a garden party your mother had hosted. You stood with all the grace befitting a royal, posture straight, hands folded properly before you, while Benedict, with his shirt untucked and face smeared with dirt, had bounded into view.

"You appear as though someone carved you from stone," he had declared with a cheeky grin, his blue eyes gleaming with mischief. "All stiff and far too serious."

Your nose had wrinkled in disgust at his unruly appearance. "And you, sir, resemble a wild beast escaped from the forest. Have you no sense of decorum?"

Benedict had merely laughed, unbothered by your rebuke. "What’s the use of decorum when fun can be had?"

It was then, you supposed, that the antagonism between you was born an endless exchange of insults that grew fiercer as the years passed. Every ball, every gathering, every accidental meeting in the gardens of your respective homes became a stage for your verbal sparring. You, the epitome of refinement and dignity, and he, the charming rogue who seemingly cared for none of it.

In your teenage years, things only worsened. Benedict had grown into his looks, tall and handsome, with a carefree demeanor that drew many an admirer to him, though none more unwillingly than yourself. At a ball hosted by the Queen herself, you had stood across the room, watching with disdain as Benedict flirted shamelessly with a young debutante. It irked you, though you could not understand why.

"Are you jealous, Your Highness?" he had teased when he caught your gaze, his lips curling into a wicked smile.

"Jealous?" you had scoffed, lifting your chin. "I am merely astonished that you manage to capture the attention of anyone at all, given your deplorable manners."

Benedict had sauntered closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "You wound me. Perhaps you care more than you let on."

"I assure you, I do not," you had responded icily, though the rapid beating of your heart betrayed you.

Yet the more you pushed him away, the closer he seemed to draw. His infuriating charm, his roguish wit it all aggravated you beyond measure. And still, you couldn’t deny that some part of you thrived on the challenge he presented. You were two forces constantly in opposition, and neither of you could back down.

But the night that truly shifted everything came much later, when the two of you had grown into adults,adults with a history of conflict, yes, but with something deeper stirring beneath the surface, though you were too proud to acknowledge it.

The night of the fateful ball had begun like any other. You arrived, as you always did, resplendent in your finest gown, your chin held high as you entered the grand ballroom. You had resolved to avoid Benedict Bridgerton altogether that evening, for the mere thought of another sparring match with him exhausted you. But, as always, fate had other plans.

Across the room, you saw him leaning casually against a pillar, his eyes scanning the crowd with that familiar look of lazy amusement. His gaze met yours, and though you tried to look away, something held you in place. It was infuriating, the way he could draw your attention with so little effort. You scolded yourself for the flush that crept up your neck as you turned to your current dance partner, determined to focus on anyone but Benedict.

In your determination to be rid of him from your thoughts, you had flirted with the gentleman in your company more boldly than usual, laughing at his every remark and placing your hand on his arm in a way you knew would be noticed. And noticed it was.

Benedict had appeared by your side, his jaw tight, his eyes flashing with something dark and unfamiliar. "Might I cut in?" he asked, though his tone was not so much a request as a command.

Your dance partner had stepped aside, leaving you standing there with Benedict, your heart racing in anticipation of yet another argument.

"Have you something to say, Mr. Bridgerton?" you asked coolly as he led you to the edge of the ballroom.

"Oh, plenty," he replied, his voice laced with bitterness. "Is this how you secure a gentleman’s affections? By simpering and laughing at their every word?"

You had stared at him in shock. The barb was sharper than any he had thrown before. "What concern is it of yours how I behave?" you demanded, your voice trembling with barely contained fury.

"I had thought you had more dignity than to act like... like a common flirt," he bit out, the venom in his tone unmistakable.

His words struck you like a blow to the chest, and before you could stop it, a tear slipped down your cheek, betraying your anger and hurt. The look in his eyes changed immediately regret flickered across his face, but it was too late. You turned and fled, refusing to let him see how deeply he had wounded you.

For weeks, you shut him out completely. You ordered the guards to turn him away from the palace, refusing to see him whenever he came to call. The hurt he had inflicted upon you ran too deep. You had always sparred with him, yes, but never had he been so cruel. And what’s worse, you hated how much his words had affected you. Why did it matter what he thought? Why did “he” matter at all?

Yet, despite your attempts to forget him, Benedict occupied your thoughts at all hours. His absence gnawed at you, and though you refused to admit it to yourself, you missed him. You missed the way his presence had always drawn a spark from you, the way he challenged you in a way no one else ever had.

The culmination of your silence came at Lady Danbury’s ball. You had resolved to enjoy yourself that evening, to forget Benedict Bridgerton and all the chaos he brought into your life. But, as you danced with another suitor, you felt that familiar gaze upon you once more. Benedict’s eyes followed your every move, and something inside of you stirred, a mixture of longing and anger.

As you flirted with your current partner, you saw Benedict’s expression darken, his gaze narrowing in jealousy. Without warning, he stormed across the ballroom and interrupted your dance, his voice tight with barely restrained fury.

"May I cut in?" he asked, though it was clear he would brook no refusal.

You hesitated for only a moment before nodding, allowing him to take your hand and lead you from the crowded ballroom. He guided you into a private study, closing the door behind him, his expression one of frustration and desperation.

"I cannot stand it any longer, Y/N," he began, his voice low and urgent. "This charade between us it must end."

You crossed your arms, lifting your chin in defiance. "Charade? What nonsense are you speaking now?"

"I love you," he said, the words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them. "I have always loved you, and it is driving me mad. These games we play this endless fighting I cannot bear it anymore."

You blinked, taken aback by his sudden confession. "You... love me?"

"Yes," he breathed, stepping closer, his eyes searching yours. "And I fear I have ruined everything with my careless words. I never meant to hurt you that night. I was jealous of seeing you with another man, when all I have ever wanted was you."

For a moment, you were silent, your heart racing as his words sank in. This was what you had both been avoiding, what had simmered beneath the surface for years. All the arguments, the rivalry, the tension it had been love all along.

"Benedict," you whispered, your voice soft as you reached out to touch his cheek. "Why did we waste so much time fighting?"

"I know not," he replied, covering your hand with his own. "But I swear to you, I will fight no longer. I will love you, if you will have me."

Your heart swelled with warmth as you stepped into his arms, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "Then kiss me, Mr. Bridgerton, and let us end this foolish war once and for all."

And kiss you he did. It was a kiss filled with years of longing, of frustration, of love that had been denied for far too long. As his lips met yours, you felt every barrier between you crumble, leaving only the truth of what you both had known all along. You were meant to be together, and nothing not even years of rivalry could keep you apart now.

When the kiss finally ended, you rested your forehead against his, a smile curving your lips. "It appears we are not enemies after all."

"No," Benedict whispered, his arms tightening around you. "We are lovers, and we always shall be."

Benedict's eyes darkened with desire as he gazed at Y/N. The years of tension between them had finally reached a breaking point. With a swift motion, he lifted her onto the nearby desk, their lips crashing together in a passionate kiss.

"Benedict," Y/N gasped as his lips trailed down her neck. "I've never... This is all so new to me."

He paused, looking into her eyes with tenderness. "We'll take it slow, my love. Trust me."

As they continued exploring this new intimacy, Benedict guided Y/N gently, explaining each sensation and asking for her consent. Y/N's reactions were filled with wonder and growing desire.

"Is there more?" she asked breathlessly, her eyes shining with curiosity and trust.

Benedict smiled warmly. "My love, there is so much more. But only if you're ready to take that step. We have all the time in the world."

Y/N's heart raced as she gazed into Benedict's eyes, her body trembling with anticipation. "I'm ready," she whispered, her voice filled with trust and desire.

Benedict's hands gently caressed her face. "Are you certain, my love? We can stop at any time."

Y/N nodded, her fingers tangling in his hair. "I want this. I want you, Benedict."

With tender care, Benedict began to undress her, his lips trailing kisses along each newly exposed patch of skin. Y/N gasped at the sensations, her inexperienced body responding eagerly to his touch.

"Benedict," she breathed, "what are you doing? It feels... incredible."

He looked up at her, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Allow me to show you, darling."

Benedict's fingers deftly unlaced Y/N's corset, his touch sending shivers down her spine. As the garment fell away, he paused, drinking in the sight of her.

"You're breathtaking," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

Y/N blushed, unused to such open admiration. "Benedict, I..."

He silenced her with a gentle kiss. "Trust me, my love. Let me worship you as you deserve."

His lips trailed lower, exploring newly exposed skin. Y/N gasped, overwhelmed by the sensations. Her fingers clutched at the desk's edge, her body arching towards Benedict's touch.

"Oh!" she exclaimed softly. "Is this... is this what it's supposed to feel like?"

Benedict looked up, his eyes dark with passion. "This is just the beginning, darling. There's so much more to discover together."

Y/N trembled with anticipation as Benedict's hands gently caressed her thighs. His touch was reverent, exploring every curve and contour of her body with tender care.

"Benedict," she whispered, her voice quivering. "I've never felt anything like this before."

He looked up at her, his eyes filled with love and desire. "I promise to make this perfect for you, my darling. Tell me if anything feels uncomfortable."

As his lips brushed against her inner thigh, Y/N gasped softly. The sensations were overwhelming, but exquisite. She tangled her fingers in Benedict's curls, urging him closer.

"Please," she breathed, though unsure exactly what she was asking for. "I need... more."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as Benedict's skilled ministrations sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body. Her fingers tightened in his curls, holding him close as she arched against the desk.

"Benedict," she gasped, her voice trembling with newfound desire. "I... I feel like I'm about to..."

Benedict looked up, his eyes dark with passion. "Let go, my love. I've got you."

With a soft cry, Y/N surrendered to the sensations, her body shuddering with release. Benedict held her gently, whispering words of love and praise as she came down from her high.

As Y/N's breathing steadied, she gazed at Benedict with wonder and adoration. "That was... incredible," she murmured. "Is there truly more?"

Benedict smiled tenderly, caressing her flushed cheek. "Only if you're ready, darling. We have all the time in the world."

Benedict's eyes darkened with desire as he gazed at Y/N. With gentle but firm hands, he guided her to the edge of the desk. "Are you sure about this, my love?" he asked, his voice husky.

Y/N nodded, her eyes filled with trust and longing. "Yes, Benedict. I want you."

Slowly, reverently, Benedict joined their bodies. Y/N gasped at the new sensation, her fingers digging into his shoulders. He moved carefully, allowing her time to adjust.

"More," Y/N breathed after a moment. "Please, Benedict."

A smirk played on his lips as he gradually increased his pace. The room filled with their soft gasps and moans as they moved together, lost in passion.

As their climax approached, Benedict pulled away, finishing in a nearby handkerchief.

Y/N looked at him, confused. "What was that?"

"My seed," he explained gently. "I want to marry you properly before we risk creating a child."

Y/N's eyes widened with understanding, a blush creeping across her cheeks. "Oh," she whispered, her voice a mix of embarrassment and awe. "I hadn't even thought about... children."

Benedict smiled tenderly, cupping her face in his hands. "There's no need to be embarrassed, my love. It's all part of the beautiful journey we're embarking on together."

Y/N leaned into his touch, her heart swelling with emotion. "You're always so thoughtful, Benedict. It's one of the many reasons I love you."

"And I love you, my darling," Benedict replied, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. "Now, we should probably make ourselves presentable before someone comes looking for us."

As they began to straighten their clothes and hair, Y/N couldn't help but giggle. "What will we tell people if they ask where we've been?"

Benedict's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Why, we were simply engaged in a heated debate about... art. Yes, art. That sounds believable, doesn't it?"

Y/N playfully swatted his arm. "You're incorrigible, Mr. Bridgerton."

"Only for you, Your Highness," he replied with a wink.

Benedict's eyes lit up with joy as he gazed at Y/N. "My love," he said softly, taking her hands in his, "shall we share our happiness with the world? Will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?"

Y/N's heart soared at his words. She nodded, tears of joy glistening in her eyes. "Yes, Benedict. A thousand times yes!"

They shared a tender kiss, sealing their promise to each other. As they parted, Benedict's expression turned playful. "Well then, future Mrs. Bridgerton, shall we go scandalize the ton with our news?"

Y/N laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Lead the way, my love. I can't wait to see Lady Whistledown's column tomorrow!"

Hand in hand, they left the study, ready to face the world together. As they stepped into the ballroom, all eyes turned to them. The whispers began immediately, but Benedict and Y/N paid them no mind. They had eyes only for each other.

And just like that, their story became legend the tale of the Queen's daughter and the artistic Bridgerton son, whose rivalry turned to love against all odds.

#bridgerton fanfiction #benidict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton benedict #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader

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daddyricsdoll · 10 months

Text

Hate but I love you too ✭ Ollie Bearman

Summary: From when he ignored you then nearly kissed your lips. Or never said sorry to begging for you. Oliver was a rollercoaster of emotions and it's safe to say- It took hate to love him.

Warnings: Unprotected sex.

Word count: 2.9k

A/N: Based off of a request. I'm sorry it took a while, quite a few things happened, but I enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoy reading this too! (did change a few things)

“Hey Ollie” I smile at him as we walk toward our karts that sit only metres away from the other. “What do you want?” He turns his head toward me with furrowed brows. “Oh, I-um just came to say hi and good luck.” I try my best to keep a smile on my face as he grimaces. “Ok then, thanks I guess.” He mumbles under his breath before quickening his pace and rushing to his kart.

It did hurt to watch him leave because of me, but it wasn’t the first time and it never made me stop from approaching him again. And just like the first time, it happened the next, he would always find a way out, but I found another in. I had questioned his actions and dislike toward me, but never got the answer, or maybe the one I was looking for at least. So after setting the goal of speaking to him every time we were in the same premises, I eventually lost it. Moving up into F4 and giving him a smile, then F3 and little glares.

F3 was an interesting time, it was when we started to only focus on racing, relationships later, whether it was friendships or romantically, we could all agree we had some struggles. And then came the part I thought would be my happy ending, but U-turned straight out.

But then came a experience for all of us drivers to experience what a lot of kids our age do. So then came a party with nearly all the drivers on the grid, hosted by a driver, so you could expect it to be on the spectrum toward chaotic. It happened to start light, small talk and grabbing another drink, before people loosened up and with that came party games. The truth or dare and spin the bottle.

My hand lightly shook as I grabbed the bottle in hand, trying to estimate which person it would point toward. Hoping it would be the British boy that sat across from me, and this time he wouldn't walk away.

Everyone's eyes stuck on the bottle and when it pointed in between two people I looked up to see it was Ollie and Jak. Everyone started shouting out their opinions of who it shall be before they all voted, and it was Ollie. I watched many emotions cross his face as we both leant forward and our lips inched closer to the other.

I stopped moving, waiting for him to make the next move, his lips were so close that I could feel his breath against my skin and I closed my eyes as I waited for him to close the gap. My lips curled into a smile as I was sure I would finally feel him. But instead of his lips ultimately against mine, I felt cold as I lost his presence and then his voice that refused to kiss me. “I can’t kiss her, we’re both rivals and it might ruin the race tomorrow.”

I don’t say anything, but sit back in the circle, at long last, accepting my defeat. I watched as some conflict arose, people telling Ollie it’s just a game and it doesn’t mean anything, but then he fought back claiming he wouldn’t kiss anyone in the circle, and then the game ended.

I found somewhere to sit in sorrow but also bliss, at how close his lips came to mine, but then how he left. I was alone for a short while before Arthur Leclerc approached me. He wasn’t even part of F3 this year but said “I could never miss out on a party.” and then sat beside me while enlightening me with his jokes and bad english. From there me and Arthur became close, while the tension between me and Ollie grew. I secretly schemed ways in my head to get Ollie back, make him feel the way I felt, make him regret something or tempt him with something, make it come so close then take it from him. There was no denying I wanted that thing to be me, and that’s what held my plan back.

The next year we both were signed into teams on the F2 grid, he had the opportunity to be with Prema racing and me with ART grand prix.

After Jeddah, our rivalry started to grow realising we were the top two drivers fighting for the win each race, me getting the victory first and him second. Then came up Australia, a track we were all new to, but it didn’t mean we wouldn’t try as hard.

I led the race with Ollie right behind me, fighting around corners and defending on straights. We had 3 more laps left as our tires started degrading drastically and our cars lost the power they had earlier in the race. Speeding down the main straight and reaching turn 1 Ollies tire clipped mine and we both spun into the gravel.

Furrowed brows under my helmet as I got out of my car that would’ve taken me to the top of the podium if it weren’t for Oliver Bearman. I put my steering wheel back in and smack the halo, needing something to take my anger out before walking away with clenched fists. Oliver stands still and stares at me as I aim to stride past him, but instead I land directly in front of him but don’t say a word. Our helmets would’ve touched if it weren’t for our heights and although my visor was still on I knew he understood the emotions that ran through me at that moment. We stayed like that for what felt like minutes until I walked away with a brush against his shoulder and hand.

Every race after that there was a stronger battle between both of us, it was either me or him that won, and those few times we didn’t, the bottom two on the podium had our names on it.

Just like last year, there was a party held, but this time we were in F2 and I wasn’t tailing after him.

Me and Arthur walked in together dressed impeccably and proud. We had a good season together and maybe letting loose at this “party” might make this season better.

Since everyone on the grid was here, it would be inevitable to see Oliver. Whether it’s a good or bad thing, I kind of do want to see him, especially since after that crash, I’ve never been better and he doesn’t enjoy being under me, so I’ll have a great time.

It barely took 5 minutes until Arthur found Oliver and started a conversation, while I stood with Arthur people congratulated me on having dominance over the season so far and I just waited till Oliver would say it too. And to my surprise it didn’t take long. “Oh um, congratulations.” I hear him mumble under his breath. “Sorry I didn’t catch that, can you say that again?” I ask him, hiding my smirk with a confused look.

He gives me an annoyed smirk, knowing wholly what I was trying to do. “Congratulations.” He quickly says and watches a smile curl on my lips before walking away with one too. Me and Arthur somehow separate and I find another one of my favourite people on the grid–Juan. I immediately laughed as the first words he said were an enlightening joke, and we sat at the table and talked, it felt so short but apparently it wasn’t.

I excused myself to the bathroom but not without a short interruption. “Nice boyfriend, since when?” The oh so recognisable accent drew me out of my stride.

“Oh, Oliver? I never knew you had an interest in people's personal lives.” I sarcastically joked, but I gained no reaction from him.

“I never knew you had an interest in people so low in the championship.”

“Unlike you Oliver, I actually know how to interact with people whether they are high or low in the championship because I know they won’t ruin my race even if we’re rivals.” I try to add some of his words from that night in F3 while taking a step closer toward him and most definitely getting in his personal space. He doesn’t attempt to move back into the wall that he already rests on, but instead looks down at me with concentrated eyes staring into mine.

“How do you interact with people? Oh please show me. Is it actions before words?” I knew exactly what he was asking for so I step on my tippy toes to stand taller and he lifts his head to look straight forward at me, I move my face closer to his, just like he did that night. I feel the ghost of his hand along my hips as my parted lips hover over his. I breathe against his skin and feel him try to move closer to me just before I break away and walk back into the main room.

Losing my need for the bathroom I walk back with a smirk and see the same one of Arthur’s faces. We both found a seat next to each other and laughed as I told him what happened. Arthur couldn’t get over it and started making fun of Ollie from across the table. Sending him air kisses and chuckles.

And just like I hoped this night did make the season more enjoyable.

I walked out of the Prema garage as we were 15 minutes till lights out and me and Arthur had just spent the morning being stupid together. We still couldn’t get over last night and Arthur was just waiting to see Ollie again, which was definite thanks to them being teammates. But as Ollie walked in, I had to leave. I sent him a teasing smile and he looked away with his signature furrowed brows.

We all got in our cars and lined up on the grid, me and Oliver sharing the front row. Once the lights went out Ollie kept the lead and I trailed behind him, keeping the gap close. Halfway through the race there was a yellow flag which lasted a few minutes before we were back to racing. The yellow flag closed the gap between both of us by a lot and now we were wheel to wheel.

I had the inside line so we both knew what was going to happen. But just like Australia, our cars collide and our race ends in seconds. I was most definitely filled with the same emotions as Australia but I knew hitting the halo wouldn’t ease them. I don’t dare to walk close or past Oliver so I take the long way around and stride straight to my driver's room. I don’t speak to anyone on the way there and slam the door once I arrive.

It hadn’t even been a minute until I received an unexpected knock on my door. Everyone knew that when I was angry, it was best to leave me alone unless you were certain that you could make me feel better. So when I got up to answer the door I was surprised to see Oliver. Before I could say a word, he beat me to it. “I’m sorry.” I stood there confused trying to process the words he had just told me. “I-I hit something and I couldn’t control my car, I think you hit it too and then we both…”

“And you think sorry will fix what just happened? For the second time!”

“No, I don’t think it will fix everything, but maybe if you accept the apology then things might change.”

“What happened? So you start talking to me, and now you learn manners! What happened to ignoring me and sending glares or not talking because I’d ruin your race or maybe you just never liked me!”

“A lot happened! And I don’t know how to explain it, but don’t act like I’m the only one that changed! What happened to the smiles you would give me before the race or when you would walk with me on the track?”

“You ignored it Oliver! You never showed an interest and you knew what you did that one night. You really hurt me Ollie.”

“Well then please, give me a chance to fix it. I regret everything I ever did or didn’t do.”

“And why do you want to fix it now Oliver?”

“I… I realised something. I realised that I really enjoyed when you would talk to me! And that the reason I ignored you before races was because you would infiltrate my mind during the race like you do every day and night! And I really wanted you- I still want you!”

“Fuck it.” I mutter under my breath as my hand grabs his and pulls it into my room and shutting the door right behind him. I had spent so long wondering what his lips would feel like, and now I know, they are the definition of paradise, my paradise. And his hands finally against my body did more than just touch my skin, they touched my mind and I tried to engrave the feeling into me. We broke the kiss and I looked into his eyes, irises being eaten by his pupils. Once my eyes landed on his neck, my lips did too. Placing hickeys all over his skin and moaning at the sound of his hushed groans.

“Is this what you wanted, Oliver?” I ask him against his skin. I don’t get words as an answer but little whines instead. My hands go to the top of his racing suit and I start unzipping it, soon pulling it down his body. Ollie starts to help me, mirroring my actions and seconds later we both stood in just our fireproofs. I couldn’t bear to still see him in clothes so my hands pulled his top off and my hands travelled along his unclothed chest.

“Come on Oliver, I’m not the one that has to fix this.” I mumble against his lips with a smirk. His hands then grip the back of my thighs and pull my body up against his. My legs wrap around his body like it’s not the first time and he lays me down on the small driver's bed.

“Is it too hard to finish what you started?” He whispers against my skin as he pulls my pants down my legs and they land on the ground. I sit up and lean forward to slide his pants down his legs so he can help ease the need between my legs. And once his pants sit next to mine, I have to clench my thighs together for at least some friction.

“Would you like to watch me finish what I started?” I ask and before I gain an answer I swap our positions, I replace my body on the bed with his and I stand in front of him. I barely give him any time to react as I crawl onto his lap. And then in seconds I lower onto his dick. Emitting a loud moan from his perfect lips, one that’s louder and longer than my own.

“I guess I’ll take first place again, on your list of best people you’ve fucked.”

“Fuck, oh, you’re the only one on the list.” He somehow manages to grit through his teeth. His words do something to me, and I start to work harder, his hips also coming to meet mine.

“Good, let’s keep it that way.” I occupy my lips with his and we capture each other’s moans. It didn’t take long until we were both moments away from coming, and it was like we had planned it together as we simultaneously came. I started riding both of our highs out until he grabbed my body again and flipped us over.

My back hit the soft bed and his hands slid along my hips as he started ramming into me. My whole body moved and it was something I didn’t expect from Oliver, but luckily I now enjoy the unexpected. We both cursed under our breath and out loud as our second climax was inching closer. I clenched around his dick and traced the delicacy of his body as I let myself feel everything that he was giving to me.

His eyes that remind me of autumn glint down into mine before I have to shut my eyes as my back arches and I cum onto his dick for the second time. I wait for the disparate feeling of him releasing in me again and whine when it finally happens.

He then lets out a long sigh and lays down onto me, body enveloping mine as he stays inside of me. “This was more than what I wanted.” He breathes out and then lays beside me, resulting in feeling the emptiness between my legs but oh so satisfied.

“Have I fixed what was broken?” He asked me.

“Maybe, but this is the first step.” I turn toward him and smile before he smiles back. This was more than I hoped and certainly more than I expected. So to sum it up, Ollie is many things and emotions, maybe I had to go through the dislike to savour and realise how much the like is worth. So Oliver, you made me want to stab you, but heal your wounds. Drown you, but part the ocean so you can walk through. You made me hate you, but love you too.

#ollie bearman imagine #ollie bearman x you #ollie bearman fluff #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman #ollie bearman smut #f2 fanfic #f2 fluff #f2 fic #f2 smut #f2 #oliver bearman #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #prema racing

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b0ng05 · 2 months

Text

Sorry - Sam Carpenter x Reader

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Prompt: After a nasty breakup, Sam can't help herself. She drives back to Y/n's apartment, debating if she should bother knocking.

Word Count: 1444

Also, Not Proofread 💅

Masterlist

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Sam sat in her car, eyes focused on the raindrops that cascade down her windshield. The air conditioning still running despite the miserable weather. The cold air painfully drying the tears that slipped from her tired dark brown eyes. The radio muted as Sam sat in silence, the only sounds were her shaky breaths and the dripping of rain on her car. Her hand shaking as it indecisively grips the door handle. Her body wanted her to get out, but her mind knew better. She was outside Y/n’s apartment.

The pair had broken up a week ago after a nasty argument that ended with Y/n storming out of Sam’s apartment. The argument was over something stupid, Y/n had wanted to go out with a few of her coworkers to the bar and Sam didn’t want Y/n to go. Due to the frat party incident with Tara, Sam didn’t particularly feel fond of the idea of her girlfriend going somewhere, with what to her are, strangers, and getting drunk. What Sam expected from the argument was for her girlfriend to give in and stay home. Instead, she got broken up with, Y/n stated she didn’t want to be with someone who couldn’t even trust her to go out with friends. The truth made Sam's heart ache. It was true, she had a tendency to push off Y/n's friends and not let her go out most nights. Sam had gotten used to sleeping every night with her girlfriend in her arms, without her, she hadn’t been getting much sleep. Sam wasn’t someone who gave in and admitted they were wrong easily, but after a week of sleepless nights, drinking and crying, she was about ready to kneel down and beg for forgiveness.

Sam was startled out of her conflicted haze when a knock on the glass window of the passenger door echoes out. She squinted to try and make out the face through the rain coated glass and the dark of the night. Her eyes widen as she realized who it was, the one woman she desperately wanted to see. Sam rolled down the window, rain pelting in at the seat as she does so. Awkwardly smiling at the woman outside the car as she wiped away her tears.

“Sam, unlock the door, I’m not standing in the damn rain.” Y/n huffs, shivering at the icy rain that doused her hoodie. Sam hastily nods as she clumsily pushes the button to unlock the doors. “Sorry,” Sam uttered, scratching the back of her neck as the woman climbs into the car. Once Y/n shuts the door behind her, Sam locks the doors once more. “What are you doing here, Sam?” Y/n asks, rolling up the window as she tries to cover herself from the rain that pelted through. Sam reaches over to turn the heat up to spare the poor woman from the cold, chewing her bottom lip as she tries to think of the words to explain her stalkerish actions. “I miss you… And I’m sorry. I'm an idiot.” Sam mumbles, her gaze flicking between Y/n and the raindrops of the windshield.

Y/n sighs, her hand reaching to hold Sam’s hand that rested in her lap. “I miss you too. But we always do this.” Y/n reaches over to turn Sam’s face to look at her. Their eyes meet in a loving but knowing stare. “I need to know now, Samantha. When are you gonna start trusting me? I mean, is this ever gonna change? Because you can’t expect me to never hang out with anyone besides you and your sister.” Y/n asks. Sam takes both of Y/n’s hands in hers, her thumbs softly tracing the backs of her hands.

“I do trust you. I promise, I swear I’m gonna change. I’m serious. I- I just, I get scared. You know what happened to me and Tara, I’m just scared one day you’re gonna go out, and Ghostface is gonna come back, and- what if I’m not there to save you? I couldn’t live with myself if me and my past is what gets you hurt. I just- I worry, baby.” Sam tears up once more, she kisses the back of Y/n’s hands.

“Sammy,” Y/n whispers, her tone sympathetic for the woman before her, her brows furrowed slightly. She moves over the middle console to sit in the woman’s lap, her arms wrapping around the back of Sam’s neck to pull her into a hug. Sam let her tears fall free as she clutches Y/n tight, her arms wrapped around the younger woman’s waist. “I’m not going anywhere. Nothing is going to happen to me, okay? If something did, you’d be the first person to know, okay?” Y/n tries to console, stroking the woman’s hair. She places gentle kisses on Sam’s forehead, letting the woman cry into her chest.

“Okay...I’m so sorry baby.” Sam sighs through a few teary breaths. Her fingers gently traced along Y/n’s spine. Y/n strokes Sam’s hair, holding her close as Sam tries to calm down.

“Shh it’s okay, honey,” Y/n whispers, gently pulling Sam’s face from her shoulder. Y/n caresses her cheeks as their eyes meet. Sam’s tired brown eyes, still a little teary and red. “Do you got an umbrella in here?” Y/n asks, glancing at the side doors of the car.

“No? Why?” Sam sniffles, confused at the woman’s question.

“Well I’m not letting my girlfriend sit in a cold car, crying. Come on, we’ll get dried off and go to bed, hm?” Y/n offers a small smile, kissing Sam’s cheek.

"Girlfriend?" Sam asks. Y/n nods, caressing her cheek. A smile grows on Sam’s face for the first time that week, she brings Y/n down for a kiss before opening the car door so Y/n can get out first. What neither of them had paid attention to was just how bad it started pouring. Y/n laughs as she jumps out, her feet padding back and forth on the parking lot as she tries to keep herself warm.

“Come on, Sammy.” Y/n squeals, pulling Sam from the car faster. Sam laughs, shutting the car door and locking it before both of them book it towards the front door of the apartment complex. Sam quickly whips open the door for Y/n, both of them pausing in the lobby of the complex, drenched by the unrelenting rain.

“It’s brutal out there,” Sam let’s out a breathless laugh as she takes Y/n’s hand in hers, both of them walking towards the elevator.

“You don’t say?” Y/n muses sarcastically, glancing at both of their outfits. Sam chuckles and nudges her shoulder as they get on the elevator, Y/n pressing the 3rd floor button.

“I do say so myself,” Sam quips, a grin on her face as she pulls Y/n into her arms. Y/n lets out a high pitched groan as Sam’s wet hoodie presses against the side of her face. “You’re lucky I love you.” Y/n smiles despite herself.

“I love you too, beautiful.” Sam smiles, pressing a kiss to Y/n’s forehead, her heart feeling complete again. But that feeling reminded her of her actions once more, though she had apologized already, a guilt still ate way.

“I’m sorry about our fight. It was stupid of me to get mad at you.” Sam admits, rubbing small circles on the woman’s back. Y/n smiles up at her and pokes her cheek. “Quit apologizing, you promised to make the efforts to ease up on the overprotectiveness. That’s all I needed, baby. And... I'm sorry too, I overreacted.”

“You and a good nap is all I need.” Sam smiles back lazily, her ears perking at the sound of the elevator ding. A glimmery of joy in her tired eyes, knowing she was so close to getting a comfort she so desperately missed. They exit the elevator, walking down the hall to Y/n’s apartment. Sam rests her chin on Y/n’s shoulder, her arms wrapped snuggly around the woman’s waist. Y/n’s hands worked to unlock the door, once it’s open, she takes Sam’s hand in hers walking them inside. Sam shuts the door behind her, double locking it. She followed Y/n back to her room, stripping off her wet clothes till she’s left in a t-shirt and boxers. Y/n changes into a drier set of pajamas before curling up under the covers, holding her arms outstretched for Sam to join her.

“I missed you so much, Y/n/n.” Sam smiles, laying on top of her. Her arms wrapping cozily around her waist, nuzzling her face into the crook of Y/n’s neck. “I missed you too, Sammy.” Y/n yawns, holding Sam close as the two cuddle. Sam's eyes flutter shut, finally reveling in the peaceful embrace of sleeping in her lover's arms.

#sam carpenter #samantha carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter x y/n #samantha carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x you #b0ng05

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kitasgloves · 2 months

Text

Thinking about seeing your ex-lover SAKUSA KIYOOMI. In a crowded room during a mutual friend's birthday party.

Everybody adored you and him back when you were together. It seemed to everyone that you and Sakusa complimented each other perfectly. Like two sides of the same coin. Yin and Yang. Dusk and Dawn. Summer and Winter. Like you were fated to meet and be together forever, you both thought the same thing.

When you and Sakusa met eyes years after separating, there were identical somber smiles on both of your features. You walked towards him, you were always the one to approach him first. He chuckles at the fact. Even if romance failed you both, you and Sakusa remained friends. After all, you were friends at the beginning before lovers.

"Hey, how are you doing?"

You spoke with a genuine smile. Sakusa knew you were better at conversation than he was because he preferred listening to you for hours. He returns the gesture.

"I'm well. Though this season had a rough start"

"How's volleyball, lately?"

"It's still okay. My teammates remained insufferable as always"

He replies and this draws a laugh out of you. God, he missed hearing that. A part of him remained selfish to know that somebody else gets to hear it now. From what he gathers, you're not in a relationship at the moment. It brought a tiny portion of solace to him. Sakusa thought how perfect it was to slide back into a relationship with you again considering he hadn't found anybody yet. He doubts anyone would replace you.

"I like your new hair color"

"Oh, thanks! God, I was afraid that I would like shit"

"No, it doesn't. Anything suits you, in my opinion"

Sakusa replies and there is a familiar glimmer in his eyes, a soft upward curl of his lips is present. Your heart unwillingly skips a beat.

Damn you, you handsome beast

You softly glared at him. On the surface, anybody would've never thought that you and he broke up, the closeness still lingered even if you and he fell apart. But if one were to look closer, ache laced in every smile, laugh, and look you and Sakusa exchanged.

The history you shared with him was irreplaceable. There were no regrets, but heartbreak instead. The romance was not fit to stay between you and Sakusa. Conflicts were inevitable to hurt both of you and the solution was to kill the tenderness only lovers shared. You thought it was reasonable, and Sakusa was a rational man. If it won't work, then you shouldn't force it, it only further complicates things.

But it hurts like shit to acknowledge that the yearning for each other was there. You still loved him. And from that stupid soft gaze, he only gives to you, Sakusa returned the sentiment. But to try again would only bring doom in the end. As you cast your heart away when he walked off, you couldn't help but think to yourself with glassy eyes: would there still be a chance again someday?

I'm trying to hurt myself to feel something lmao

#— ♬ with love; kitasgloves #with anguish and tears honestly #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fic #haikyuu angst #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #sakusa x you #sakusa x y/n

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pomefioredove · 5 months

Note

Heyyy! Can u do Jamil, riddle & whoever else you choose X party girl!reader? Someone who loves music, dancing, clubs and stuff like that? They might still be a good student or it might affect their studies, you choose. Thank youuu (⁠~⁠‾⁠▿⁠‾⁠)⁠~

anyone else I choose you say?? ooh

summary: reacting to an extroverted party-prone reader type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, jamil, idia additional info: platonic or romantic, pretty short, reader is not specified to be yuu, reader is gender neutral (using "party girl" as a loose term)

Riddle Rosehearts

honestly?

doesn't matter if your grades are affected or not

he is NOT a fan

Riddle has spent his whole life devoting all of his free time to his studies

(whether he wanted to or not)

seeing you squander yours on things he finds useless and irritating is a little frustrating for him

what, are the unbirthday parties not good enough for you?

he would scoff at the very thought

a dark room full of sweaty strangers and deafening music is hardly a party to him

(it doesn't match the rulebook criteria, anyway)

it's a high point of conflict between the both of you for the longest time

but maybe... just maybe

if you're able to impress him with your grades

even with all the time you spend out

he'll come around to accepting the idea

don't try to take him out with you, though

he takes curfew very seriously

Jamil Viper

he's maybe

a little

tiny bit

jealous

not that he'd ever admit that...

even with all the parties Kalim both throws and attends

hearing you going out on your own and enjoying yourself with no sense of duty is frustrating, to say the least

why do you get to shirk all responsibility and run wild?

listening to you describe your escapades in clubbing and partying just makes him turn up his nose at you

at first he just says it's immature and irresponsible

think of your studies!

think of your grades!

think of all those who rely on you!

and then it just becomes overwhelmingly apparent that he wishes he had that same sense of freedom, too

(as good as he is at concealing his true motives, you can just tell)

if you catch on and ask him to go out with you, he'll say no

obviously. he has things to do.

but maybe... if you're able to steal him away for an evening and throw him a little event of his own

he'll relax a little

Idia Shroud

number one he's scared of you

number two he's scared of you

a super extroverted party person getting near him is like a boss battle

in the virtual world he could take it on no problem

but this is real life

so he just freezes up and tries to hide behind the nearest piece of furniture every time you're in the room

you'll never convince him to go out with you

that's just a given

but maybe once he gets a little less intimidated by you, he'll throw a party for you

in his own way

(he programs it)

in all honesty, it is pretty neat

even if you're technically the only people there and everyone else is just CGI rendering and it's on a computer screen

but, hey, he remembered all your favorite music!

congratulations on bringing him out of his shell

kinda

while this is a small victory for him, it's a victory nonetheless

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #jamil viper x reader #idia shroud x reader #queued

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trippinsorrows · 4 months

Text

with me + part six

authors note: i'm very sorry in advance for how this ends, it was just getting wayyyy too long, and there was no good place to slice it in half, so i cut it before shit unfolds, so yes please don't hate me!!!

pairing: roman reigns x black!reader

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, suggestive dialogue, angst

song inspo: ‘with me’ by destiny’s child

words: 6.5k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

“Whoa.”

Mariah’s reaction is expected. Your living room, specifically the sofa, is occupied by several of Callie’s dolls. A tea party that you were so kindly invited to attend this morning.

“Girl, you should see her playroom. Pretty soon the floor is going to be non-visible.”

A small part of you regrets not trying to straighten up before Mariah came over, but this is also your literal best friend. You know she’s seen more than almost anyone else in your life, and she would never judge you, let alone over the state of your apartment when she has a child of her own.

Mariah looks over at you with a raised brow. “He did all this?” You nod. “Why?”

“Because she’s his little girl and of course he’s going to spoil her. A quote.” You chuckle as you and Mariah decide to just sit at the kitchen island. It’s probably best to leave the dolls untouched as Callie’s likely to wake up from her nap wanting to play again.

Mariah gives you a look. “You don’t find that weird?”

Confused, you ask, “what?”

Mariah shrugs and circles the top of her water bottle with her index finger. “I don’t know. He just found out about her, and now he’s buying her stuff? Seems like he’s trying to buy her love.”

“You don’t know Joe.” It’s an easy dismissal, because you do know him and know that’s the last thing on his mind. “That’s not him at all. He just wants to see her happy.”

Mariah looks unfazed and stands ten toes down, adding on, “then he should be here full time instead of randomly popping in.” You just look at her, slightly confused where this is coming from. “I mean, I’m happy she’s getting to know him, but this is all so messy, you know? He’s married. He has a wife, and he’s coming here seeing his secret child with his secret mistress.”

You can only look at her, stunned by her words, even if a small part of you knows there’s some element of truth. Joe swiftly dodged the only question you’ve asked about how and when he’s going to tell his wife about Callie. It was a valid question that deserved an answer. But the things Mariah is saying, you can’t tell if it angers you because it’s not true or hurts you because it is.

She seems to detect your conflicted emotions and reaches over with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be negative. I just remember how hard it was for you when you and Joe broke up the first time. I hated seeing you so hurt.”

“We’re not together, Mariah. We’re coparenting.” You hate how soft your voice is, giving away that her words now have your head spinning.

“So you honestly mean to tell me that you have no feelings for him? None whatsoever.” You can’t give her an answer, or either refuse to. It’s another valid question but the answer isn’t as simple for you to express. You know you feel something for Joe, but that could just be because of the fact that you two share a child together. There has to be some type of emotional connection between any two people who create life. “Exactly. Just be careful. He broke your heart once before. Don’t let him do it again.”

Your feelings are so mixed, agreeing with certain aspects of what’s being said and disagreeing with others. Mariah has triggered some big thoughts, ones that you probably should sort through at some point. You’re just not eager for right now to be that moment.

“Enough about me, what’s been going on with you?”

You pray she knows you well enough to know that you’re desperate to change the subject. “What do you mean?”

“I feel like we haven’t spoken much lately, and I know that’s partially on me. It’s just been a lot on my end, I’m sorry.”

She shrugs. “It’s cool.”

Something tells you that she’s just saying that, and there’s a level of bitterness towards you for the distance. But, you can’t allow yourself to be hurt by that, because it’s fair. Mariah has been too good of a friend to be ditched the minute your ex comes back around.

‘How are things with Caleb? Are you guys getting along any better?” Caleb and Mariah have only been married for two years but have already hit a rough patch, enough where he’s temporarily moved out of the house. Last you spoke with her, they were supposed to meet up to discuss what they were going to do, especially for the sake of Miach.

“Did you see him at my place last time you were there?” Her response is all you need to know that that is still a sensitive spot for her as well. Understandably so, but her shut down is so cold and unlike the sweet, gentle friend you’ve always known her to be. You were always known as the outspoken, brutal friend, though it seems that maybe as the years go by, the roles are reversing.

Unless there's something else at play.

—-------

Today is going to be a good day.

For Callie at least.

Your earlier conversation with Mariah, who seemed far too eager to leave when you mentioned Joe would be arriving in less than two hours, is still circulating in your head. You know she’s only trying to look out for you, and you’re very appreciative of that, but there was some undertone to the way she spoke to you that you can’t shake off. Like, it wasn’t coming just from a place of concern, but something else that didn’t seem as genuine.

“Mommy, why are we cleaning?”

Because mommy is too broke for a maid.

You instead settle on the answer, “because we want our home nice and clean, baby.”

“But, it is clean.” She’s not entirely wrong, it’s just every so often you like to deep clean, dusting, mopping, the extra shit that usually isn’t done with daily cleaning.

Taking a break from wiping down your kitchen counters with some overpriced cleaner you picked up from Target, you see Callie is ready to be done, the dust rag you’d given here now sitting on the coffee table.

With a heavy sigh, you ask, “you wanna play, don’t you?” Her eyes widen and her head nods enthusiastically. A quick glance at the clock indicates that Joe should be knocking at your door any minute, so you try to buy some more time. “Alright, let mommy finish here, and I’ll come play with you.”

“Yay!”

Chuckling, you listen to the sound of her run in the direction of her playroom while you finish scrubbing the counters, even if they’re as clean as they can get. It’s most likely a result of all the overthinking you’ve done the past few hours. The older you get, the more you realize you’ve become that ‘i’m anxious, so let’s clean until we’re physically exhausted’ mom. Which, technically, isn’t a horrible thing, but it’s also probably not the best way to deal with your emotions.

Not that you’ve always been the best with that either.

And that’s when you hear it, the solid two knocks you’ve been waiting for all morning.

Smiling, you call out for Callie who marches out seconds later with a doll in her hand. “You wanna see who’s at the door for mommy?” Callie looks rightfully confused. At the same time you taught her how to open, close, and lock the door because you never know what can happen, you stressed to her that she is to never open it without permission or unless during an emergency. So, you emphasize, “it’s okay.”

Shrugging, she skips, literally skips to the door. You chuckle. This kid has so much damn personality. Moving to the sink to rinse your hands, you move slowly, waiting for it.

A loud gasp. “Joe!”

You can mentally picture the absolute surprise and happiness splashed over her little face. Grabbing the towel to dry your hands, Joe walks in holding Callie who you haven’t seen look so happy since the last time Joe was in town.

“Mommy, Joe’s here!”

Kids announcing the most obvious things will always be hilarious. “He sure is.” Leaning against the counter, you focus on him. “Hey.” He looks good, but he always looks good. That was always the damn problem.

He takes in you for a second, eyes lingering longer than what’s probably necessary, “hey.” He easily returns his attention back to Callie who can’t seem to stop smiling, which makes you smile. You love seeing her so happy. "I missed you."

"I missed you too!" She glances over at you, partially contrite. “Mommy, I’m gonna play with Joe instead, okay?”

You pretend to be shocked, standing upright and crossing your arms and making a face before laughing, waving her off.

“That’s fine, baby, because I am going to take a nap.” It’s much needed. Your sleep has been kinda shitty lately, and you know yourself well enough to know that exhaustion makes you bitchy. And the last thing you want is to unintentionally take that bitchiness out on her. Even Joe. Walking up to them, you poke him in his stomach. Jesus, he’s ripped. “Help yourself to anything. Just make sure she doesn’t destroy my house, please. And make her clean.”

At that, her face sours, and Joe chuckles.

“You got it.”

Satisfied, you walk back into your room, deciding to close the door. Callie will absolutely welcome herself in if need be. Plopping down on the mattress, you stare up at the ceiling, taking in a deep breath, momentarily stopping yourself from closing your eyes. For a second, you forget that Callie is not alone and unattended, thus preventing you from sleeping.

Call it being an anxious, overprotective parent, you’ve never allowed yourself to nap when it’s just the two of you. Even when she’s asleep, and when you do, you set an alarm to wake you up every ten minutes, just to make sure she’s still knocked out. It makes taking time to rest pretty difficult, if not impossible, but it’s what makes you comfortable.

It’s an easy sacrifice to make for your child.

So having another adult around, her dad, of all people, is a nice feeling. You know she’s safe and watched over. And it’s what allows you to actually fall into a peaceful slumber.

Just for a little bit.

—-------

It is, in fact, just for a little bit.

Because you’re awoken by your phone ringing, your mom on the other end wondering what time she can expect you and Callie to come over.

Shit.

You completely forget that you’d agreed to bring Callie to see her as it’d been ��too long," according to her. You partially agreed, realizing you haven’t visited your mom since the day everything went down, what with you reaching out to Joe again and that whole fiasco.

And that’s another thing.

Your mother has no idea he’s back in the picture.

Walking out of the room, you find them in the living room, of course, watching Toy Story 2.

Callie’s eyes light up when she sees you, but that doesn’t pull her from her position, tucked right under Joe’s side on your sofa. If you had your phone, you’d try to snap a picture.

“That wasn’t long,” he snickers, and you glare, stopping yourself from flipping him off.

You move over to the sofa, sitting on the armrest. “That’s cause my mom called and woke me up.”

“Grandma?”

Nodding, you explain to both Callie and Joe. “I forgot we were supposed to go visit her today.”

She moves up on her knees, asking, “can we go?” She looks over at Joe. “Joe can come with us!”

You consider her suggestion. Your mom didn’t even find out about Joe until you told her you were pregnant. You kept that part of your life a secret from her for good reasons. This doesn’t seem like the best way for her to find out, to drop it on her yet again. However, one look at Callie’s desperate expression, and you already know your answer.

“Of course,” you then add on, “if he wants to.”

Callie, being Callie, answers for him. “He wants to!” She tugs on his sleeve, excitement bubbling. “You can meet my grandma!”

You glance over at him, “are you sure? I’m sorry, I know this was supposed to be one on one with her….”

He shakes his head, cutting you off. “If she wants to go, let’s go.”

You nod, praying this doesn’t end up being a bad idea.

—-------

“Mama!” You call out, watching Joe shut and lock the door behind him. Seeing that allows you to focus on where the hell your mother is. She usually meets you at the door when she knows you’re coming over. “Where is this woman?”

The car drive was pleasant enough, Callie talking almost the entire time, as expected. And Joe eating it up the whole time, also, as expected.

You can see now he’s definitely going to be that dad. The dad who finds anything and everything his kid does to be adorable. You can’t wait for him to be on the receiving end of one of Callie’s temper tantrums and see how he handles it.

“Grandma!” Callie suddenly calls, all the while keeping her hand in Joe’s. “I’m here!”

Finally, the sound of footsteps from upstairs as your mom comes down the stairs, home phone, yes, a home phone, held between her ear and shoulder. “I told her Bishop wasn’t gonna go for that, but you know how she is. Old fool.” It’s when she’s in the vicinity to see that it’s not just you and Callie, her eyes grow wide. “Cheryl, let me call you back.”

Damn.

You know that tone, that ‘let me talk to you’ tone.

Thankfully, you get a brief save. The sight of your mom makes Callie drop Joe’s hand to sprint off to meet her on the steps. “Grandma!”

She leans down to pick up Callie, smothering her with kisses. “My favorite little lady.”

Callie giggles as your mom descends from the steps, Callie on her hip, to approach you and Joe who’d, wisely, remained quiet up until this point.

You watch your mom’s eyes land on him, but before she can say anything, Callie jumps in.

“Grandma, this is Joe! He’s mommy’s friend and mine too!”

Fuck. Your mom’s eyes travel between him and Callie, once, twice, and on the third time, you know. You just know that she knows.

And that’s when you jump in, knowing you desperately need to speak with her. “Callie, why don’t you show Joe the play area?”

Her eyes blaze with enthusiasm as your mom places her back on the ground. Callie’s little feet carry her back over to Joe who seems to understand you need to talk with your mother.

“Come on!” Taking his hand, she begins to direct him to the back of the house and through the sliding door.

Your mom waits until she knows the two of you are alone to speak. “Girl, you done got my blood pressure all up.”

“Mama—”

“That’s Callie’s daddy, ain’t it?” She doesn’t even give you time to answer. “Don’t try to lie, either. She looks just like him.”

There’s no need in denying the obvious. “Yes.”

Her mouth drops open in rightful shock. “And just when did you plan to tell me he was back in the picture?” The questions keep coming, understandably so considering how you’ve just dropped this on her. “And why is she calling him by his first name?”

“Because she doesn't know,” you answer the second question, hating the disappointed look on her face. “We–he hasn’t told her yet.”

“It just keeps getting worse.” She’s rubbing her temple and you just know she’s gonna need to take an Excedrin before the night is over. “Tell me everything. Now.”

And so, you do, starting with Callie’s initial question about her dad, to your phone call with Joe, his visit where he confirmed he had a daughter, all of it. And when you’re done, your mom is visibly shaken.

“Lord, he found out about her through social media?” You still feel badly about that, about a lot of it. “Well….does his wife know?”

You shake your head. “I don’t think so. We haven’t really talked about that yet.” Before your mom can protest, you add, “we will. I’ll make sure of it. He just wants to get to know her first. For himself.”

Your mom chuckles, obviously having studied the close interaction between the two of them in the few minutes she’s been privy to see them engage with one another. “seems like that’s already a done deal.”

“Yeah,” you smile warmly. “He’s really good with her.”

And it’s the truth, Joe seems to be naturally good with a lot of things, but there’s something so impressive about his ability to interact and connect with Callie. It’s so natural.

“So, are you two…..”

“No,” you shut that down immediately. “We’re just trying to navigate coparenting.”

Your mom nods but doesn’t say anything, and you know her well enough to know it’s because she doesn’t entirely believe you. But, she won’t push.

“Well.” She claps her hands together, nodding to the backdoor. “Let me go properly introduce myself, since you got me out here looking rude. Probably got that boy thinking I don’t like him.”

“I promise, he’s not like that.” You two start walking toward the backyard where you’re certain Callie is talking a hole in his head, describing the play area your mom put together just for her when she spends the night.

She places her hand on the sliding door but pauses to look at you, “let me just say this though, that is one fine young man. I see now why you had a hard time letting him go. The devil sure knows how to tempt people.”

“Mama!” You try to suppress your laughter as the two of you walk out, sure enough to find Callie on the swing, Joe pushing her as they share their own conversation.

She walks up to him, wearing a warm smile, giving a wink to Callie. “I’m so sorry about that. My daughter just didn’t tell me you were gonna be here.”

Joe, forever respectful, starts to indirectly apologize. “I hope it's not a problem. If so, I can—”

She waves him off, “oh, hush.” She leans in to whisper, “you’re practically family.” He returns her smile as she introduces herself by name, he offers his, and your wonderful mother then informs, “well, this one is gonna help me tend to my garden, cause winter will be here before we know it.” She leans down and kisses the top of Callie’s head, as she’s stopped swinging and is instead sitting. Her eyes light up at the idea of gardening with your mom. The same way you used to garden with your grandma. A bit of a tradition being passed down. “And in the meantime, you two can go finish organizing the office.”

Your eyes widen. No wonder she didn’t hear you all coming in right away. That room, once your bedroom, became your mom’s storage area and over the years has accumulated stuff on top of stuff. Nowhere near a hoarding level, but just a lot of things that she doesn’t want to part with but needs to organize. “Mama, that's not—”

“I don't want to hear no complaining. You really want me up on that ladder?” You roll your eyes, realizing she’s referring to the top of your old closet where she keeps the storage bins of memorabilia, mostly photos. “I'm not getting any younger. What if I fall? Then you gon feel bad.”

“You're so dramatic.” Your mom acts like she's 75 and at death's door sometimes. The woman is 52 and teaches a Zumba class at the rec center every Saturday. She could fall and jump right back up like nothing happened.

She places her hand on Joe’s arm, smiling slyly. “You got this strong, handsome man to help you out.” One thing you’ve learned as you’ve gotten older is that your tendency to unintentionally flirt from time to time 100% came from your mother. Clearly. “Besides, if you do fall, you'll be fine. You got enough booty back there to cushion it.”

“Mama!” One glance at Joe, and you see him make a face that reads clearly 'she's not entirely wrong.’ At that, you shove him, not that it does anything. He's solid as a rock. “Fine, we'll organize your mess, but not for long. Joe is only in town until tomorrow night, and he did not come here to be a part of your cleaning crew.”

“I don’t mind,” Joe adds. Of course, he doesn't. He hasn’t seen it yet, and he’s a gentleman. “Whatever you need help with, I’ll do it.”

Your mom gives you another look and then looks at him. “I like you, Joseph.”

Callie lifts her head, adding, “I like him too!”

I like him too.

“Well, get to it. When we’re done, ya’ll can help me fix some dinner.” Her eyes then land on you. “Well, not you. You can make the lemonade or something.”

Joe coughs awkwardly, poorly hiding his laughter. “I’m getting really sick of ya’ll coming for me and my poor cooking skills.”'

Your mom directs Callie to grab her caddy with their needed gardening supplies. “Baby, you are a lot of things, but a cook ain’t one of them.” She points at Joe, sharing, “remind me to tell you the story about how she almost burned down my house.”

“Okay, we’re gonna go now.” You grab Joe’s hand and lead him back into the house toward the stairs, which he motions for you to go up first, realizing after the fact that he probably did so to stare at your ass.

This man….

Entering your former bedroom, you stretch your arm to show you just what you signed up for. He walks in, clearly surprised. “Okay.”

“Yup.” There’s items scattered all over, your mom clearly in the middle of trying to categorize the millions of family photos ya’ll have. “Still don’t mind?”

He shrugs forever unbothered. “There’s two of us. We’ll get it done.”

Sucking your teeth, you look around, trying to figure out where the hell to start. “Your optimism is annoying.”

Chuckling, his smartass remarks, “Glass half full, baby. Glass half full.”

“Yeah, yeah, well glass your ass over there and reach me the ladder. I need the box these pictures can go in from the top.”

He follows where you’re pointing but also gestures to the closet. “That one?” Joe makes a sound and instead of following your directions, casually walks over to said closet, reaches up and grabs the box with all the ease of someone who’s 6’3.

Smug expression on his face, he hands it to you as you glare. “Show off.”

Joe assesses you, eyes settling on your chest before redirecting them to your face. “Maybe I should have let you get up there. View and all.”

Holding back your smile is difficult, so you settle for biting on your bottom lip and bumping his side as you move past him. “Shut up.” You know his gaze is on you and that should bother you, his flirty comment should bother you, but it doesn’t.

It doesn’t at all.

—-------

“I still can’t believe you were a cheerleader.”

There’s probably been a decent combination of conversation and organization in your time working together to ‘unmess’ your mom’s mess. That’s not entirely surprising though. Joe has always been immensely easy to talk to, to be around. And you couldn’t deny that you missed this kind of interaction with him, the most and maybe first since he’s re-entered your life. You wholly understand why he spends and devotes most of his time with Callie, but there’s a small part of you that’s missed this.

Missed it being just the two of you.

Chuckling, you comment, “you’re not the first. I was….different in high school and college than I am now.”

He’s intrigued, asking, “how?”

“Well, for one, I don’t party damn near every night anymore.” One thing you could never deny about your early days was that you always liked to have a good time, liked to make your expected appearances at whatever party of the week, or day, was happening. “Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t drink or smoke. That was never my thing. I just….I liked to have fun, probably too much fun more often than not.” You chuckle to yourself, grabbing a stack of photos to put in the container. “Now, I like to be in bed by 9:30, 10 at the latest.”

He smiles and looks over at the wall that still has many of your cheer accolades proudly displayed. “Obviously, you were pretty damn good.”

Shrugging, you push some of your hair behind your ear. Not that it does much. Your curls have always been voluminous and wild. “I was, but….it came at a cost to some extent. Cheer is insanely competitive, and I didn’t always handle that the best.”

Competitiveness was something you deeply struggled with when you were younger. Feeling like you had to be the best, not even better than anyone else per se, but the best that you could be. Always trying to prove that you were good enough.

Looking back now, you have a solid guess of where that came from and what drove it.

Joe’s studying you, trying to gauge your comfort level with this conversation. “Did you like it?”

“I loved it,” you answer, honestly. “Until I didn’t. Shortly before college, I think, is when the love started to fade.”

“But you cheered in college too, didn’t you?”

You nod, explaining, “I got a scholarship for cheer, and I wasn’t about to put that stress on my mom to have her help me figure out how to pay for school when I had an easy ride.” Around that time is when your relationship with your mom started to strengthen, and the last thing you wanted to do was risk messing it back up by being selfish. You’d cheered damn near your whole life, what was another 4 years?

“I like your mom,” he announces, almost suddenly. It’s unsurprising. Most people do. But, there is something that pleases you about her tentative approval of him and now his of her.

“She’s really great. I don’t know what I would do without her, and Callie adores her.” You look over at him, playfully. “Not as much as she adores you, though.”

You can see the delight in his eyes. “Yeah?”

His disbelief surprises you. How can he not see how crazy Callie is over him? “Are you kidding me? That lil girl already doesn’t shut up, but she really doesn’t shut up about you. It’s Joe this, Joe that. The first thing she asks me when I pick her up from school is always if she can call you.” Deciding this is a perfect segue, you add on, carefully. “You know….you should tell her. I can promise you, she won’t be upset. She’s gonna be thrilled.”

She already loves you.

You don’t know if it’s too soon to say that, if it’s something you should even say vs let him hear from Callie herself. You just know that there’s probably very little he could do at this point to make Callie not love him. She’s hooked.

“Christmas,” he announces, adding, “I’ll tell her when I come back for Christmas.”

This surprises you, as he hasn’t discussed his next visit up until this point. You also don’t feel the need to comment or counter his plan and timeline to tell Callie. You can’t think of a better Christmas gift for her. “You got the time off?”

He nods, providing specifics. “I’ll be here the day before Christmas Eve. Gotta fly back out on the 26th though.”

“Stay with us.” Where this comes from, you’re not sure, but there’s not a lot of regret once it's released. “I know you hate that damn hotel, and Callie would be thrilled to have you around 24/7.” Getting up off the floor, you carry the now filled container and move up the ladder you’d used a couple times because he’d been preoccupied organizing other areas. Sliding it back in the same spot, you descend down the steps only to feel strong hands grip your waist.

Bringing you to the ground, he carefully turns you around, but that’s not what you’re focused on. What you’re focused on is how close he is to you, your chests nearly touching, his eyes burning into you. Instantly, your stomach is knotting. You know that look, know it all too well.

“Joe….” Your voice is soft, much softer than it needs to be when trying to assert yourself. And you hate yourself for the tiny sigh that leaves your mouth when he brings his palm to your cheek. “We—we can’t—”

“I’m divorced.”

This man, so fine and kind, and damn near pressed against you is distracting, so much so that you’re briefly disconnected from what he’s just said. But, it’s forcing yourself to come back to reality that his words truly hit you. You’re not sure you could have ever guessed that statement would ever leave his mouth.

Slightly in shock, staring at him with bewilderment, you stammer, “w–what?”

“Two months ago, Jadah and I filed for divorce. It was uncontested, and the state of Florida is one of the quickest when it comes to processing these things.” His other hand moves to your hip, holding you still, as if he knows you want to move away from him. “I got notice it was finalized a few days ago.”

You’re listening, you really are, but hearing is another story. This has to be some type of sick joke, some type of cruel prank ripped directly out the pages of a journal kept and maintained so long ago. Cause you’d absolutely written about this at one point, written about what it would be like if he were to leave his wife.

You just never could have anticipated it would one day become a reality.

“I—I don’t understand.” Joe only found out about Callie less than a month ago, so there’s no way she was the reason for the split. Still, you have to ask. “Wh–why?”

Something flashes in his eyes. Hurt. “It was long overdue.” He doesn’t say anything beyond that, and while you expected more, you can also see there’s more to the story. More that he’s not saying, but it’s the brief glimpse of pain that prevents you from pushing. Whatever it is, it’s clearly difficult for him to discuss.

“Oh.” It’s a stupid thing to say, but you’re truly in a state of shock and don’t know what else to say.

The biggest and only issue that ever existed between yourself and Joe has always been his marriage, the fact that he was already taken. It was the only reason you ever broke it off with him, but now, he’s standing before you, telling you that this is no longer the case.

You’re all of the emotions: confused, nervous, happy, hopeful, and so many more that you can’t even label.

“I didn’t say anything at first, because meeting Callie was my priority. Establishing a relationship with her was a priority. And it still is, but…..” Your eyes shut as he drops his head in the crook of your neck. “I’ve missed you.” Your hands gradually lift to lay against his chest as he sighs into you, ‘I’ve missed everything about you.” Eyes remaining shut, your nails claw gently against him as he moves his mouth over your neck. “The way you smile, the way you laugh.” His hand on your back slowly inches downward. “The way you taste.” Your breath catches as his teeth graze your collarbone. “The way you feel when I’m inside you.”

“Joe,” you breathe, the air suddenly thick, your throat tight. Breathing is incredibly arduous in this moment. “I—”

“Mommy! Joe!”

Joe’s suddenly across the damn room, it seems like, as Callie enters at both the perfect and worst time with a smile, completely oblivious to what she’s just interrupted. “Grandma said come eat!”

Frowning, you glance at the clock and realize it’s most definitely dinner time and that your mom had most likely just had Callie help her prepare the meal instead of asking you two to help.

Huh.

She moves across the room, tackling Joe from the side and craning up her head as she excitedly asks, “Wanna see what I made? Grandma helped me!”

Leaning down to pick her up, he answers, “of course, I wanna see.” He begins to walk out the door as Callie calls out for you to follow behind.

And you will.

You just need a moment.

Because what the hell just happened?

—-------

I’m divorced.

It keeps playing in your head, on a vicious repeating cycle, like that annoying song the radio plays every 15 minutes, forcing it down your throat.

For almost the entire time you were together, you infrequently allowed yourself to dream about what your life would be like if the circumstances were different, if he wasn’t already taken. If he wasn’t already married. And each time only left you feeling worse than before, because it was stupid. You were three years deep into the situationship; if he hadn’t left his wife by then, he wasn’t leaving her period.

It was a harsh pill that took you forever to swallow.

And even then, you knew that you could never be happy. Not with the knowledge that he’d left his wife for you. It may be bliss initially, but the guilt would have eaten you up and ruined things regardless.

So accepting and telling yourself that it would never work out long-term was what kept your head above water, especially in the two months after you broke things off. And once you learned you were pregnant with Callie, there was a new kind of stress, a new kind of distraction.

Not that it made you forget about him. Hardly.

Every check up, every milestone, every kick, your mind would wander to him. Wander to a fantasy world where you imagined he was with you every step of the way, the two of you preparing together for the arrival of your first child.

Even as the years went on and Callie got older, you still would find yourself from time to time imagining how different things would be if he was around.

Well, now he is. He’s not only around, but he’s going to be actively involved in Callie’s life for the rest of her life.

And he’s now single.

All of this makes for one fucked up emotional rollercoaster ride.

Dinner is an experience, only for you, maybe Joe to some extent. He’s always had a tendency to compartmentalize emotions though, unlike yourself. Granted, if it was a struggle for him, he did a damn good job not showing it. It also probably helped a ton that Callie talked a hole in his and your mom’s head.

You knew your mom could see something was up with you but graciously opted to not ask you any questions. You wouldn’t have any answers to give her anyway.

And you indicated as much when you were back at your apartment, and Callie in her room gathering her favorite pajamas for bed.

“I just need time to think.”

It’s all you can offer him, because it’s the truth. There’s so much more to consider than you could have imagined, and it’s really hard to contemplate when you still have Mariah’s voice oscillating in the back of your mind, your insecurities, and even your mom.

So many differing perspectives, it’s hard to focus and hear your own.

Thankfully, he accepts that answer, and you accept that you’re running out of different ways to escape confronting your own emotions.

Maybe.

Because this day has already been exceedingly long, and you’re more emotionally exhausted than anything. So when Callie comes to you complaining of a tummy ache, you administer her Children’s Tylenol, lay with her until she falls asleep, and take advantage of this rare opportunity to turn your brain off and just rest.

The hard shit could wait.

—-------

“Mommy!”

There's a certain tone every person has that's reserved for emergencies, saved for moments when something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

This is one of those moments.

You nearly trip with how quickly you jump out the bed and sprint down the hall to Callie’s room. Hitting the light switch, your stomach drops when you see her.

On her side, in a fetal position, crying profusely.

Rushing over to her, you see too that she's pale and a hand to her forehead reveals she's burning up. Sheer panic climbs up your body, settling into your stomach and the back of your throat. Still, you do your best to not show her your fear.

“Baby, is it your tummy?” You take a hand to feel her stomach, but she screams out in pain, making you jump from her reaction.

“Mommy, it hurts,” she sobs, and you're instantly moving the blankets off her, already knowing what you need to do.

Hand on her forehead, you assure, “I’lll be right back, okay?”

You rush back into your room, sliding on the first pair of shoes that you come across. You grab your phone off the nightstand and throw it in your purse, all in under a minute, still too long. And as soon as you're back in her room, you waste no time in lifting her into your arms.

She winces, so you reassure, “come on, baby. It's okay, you're gonna be okay.”

It's what you're telling yourself, the only thing keeping you from panicking. Unsure and uncaring at this moment if you lock the front door behind you, you carry her down the steps and into the dark of night, carefully but quickly buckling her into her carseat.

Hating to see her continue to cry, to be in pain, you kiss her forehead, “I’m gonna get you some help, okay? We're going to the hospital.”

She can only nod, and your eyes water. Your forever talkative child is rendered speechless by her pain. It crushes you.

Hopping into the driver's seat, you grab your phone, trembling fingers locating the address of the hospital. You hit share and send it to Joe before pressing the call button and tossing your phone into the passenger seat to zoom out of the parking lot.

Your phone is connected to your vehicle, ringing three times before he picks up, voice heavy with sleep. “Hey.”

“I need you to meet me at the hospital. I already sent you the address.” You do your best to remain calm and collected, to not scare Callie more than she's already scared. Even if you’re fucking terrified. “Something is wrong with Calista.”

#roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #wwe #roman reigns x black!oc #arisnotebook

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