#that said please stop crashing you are all i have left
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The Interview - Chapter 22
The Interview - A Captain America Fanfic
Masterlist
PREVIOUS //
Rating: E
Warnings: smut (MF, vaginal sex)
Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Melody Danes
Word Count: 2904
Summary: Melody Danes gets the break of a lifetime when as a lowly intern, she’s assigned to write a profile piece on Captain America. Steve Rogers is a hard man not to fall for and as she and Melody get closer and Melody’s career takes off, jealousy leads to sabotage, and the potential to bring her whole world crashing down.
Chapter 22
Melody had gone to work the following day feeling more focused and a little more in control. Steve’s fans were relentless and awful. Melody wanted to lock her social media down but she needed it for work. So instead she ignored it, letting the rabble call her every name in the book, both sexist and racist, and all completely delusional, and she focused on making her workplace safer.
Tony met her at the office by mid-morning and when he declared that there was no malware or noticeable hacks, he upgraded the security and added a fingerprint and facial recognition login to stop anyone getting into her computer.
“You really didn’t have to go all out like this,” she said, as Tony packed up his things.
“It’s nothing,” he replied, waving her off. “Besides, we can’t have Cap’s personal business splashed around the internet. It makes the rest of us look like complete deviates in comparison.”
“You mean you’re not?” she teased.
“Of course I am,” he said, winking at her. “But I could do without the comparison.”
He gathered up his stuff and Melody walked him to the exit. “Have fun on your trip. I said Cap could take the jet. I’m staying in town so someone might as well. But in exchange, we get him for Christmas.”
“That is a more than fair trade. I don’t actually like going home that much,” she replied.
She stopped at the elevator with him and put her hand on his arm. “Thank you, Tony. For everything.”
He gave her a half hug, kissing her cheek. “You got it,” he said. “Let us know if anything else happens. If Cap’s got a stalker, it really is Avengers business.”
“Will do,” she agreed.
After Tony left she called a staff meeting, explaining what had happened regarding the email to Jameson.
“Look,” she said, leaning back in her chair and looking around at her team. “I really love this team. I trust all of you, but someone was listening in while I made private plans with my boyfriend. I don’t want to believe it was any of you, but if I find out it is, it’ll be immediate termination. That is a vile invasion of privacy. I shouldn’t have to worry about coming to work and someone here stalking me around the city. I had a rule when I brought you all one. No assholes. Please don’t be an asshole. And if you hear about anyone alerting the paps about where I’m going to be with Steve, then let me know. Please.” She sighed and rubbed her eyes. “I’d put my money on it being Norah. She doesn’t like me. That’s no secret. And she’s always sniffing about. But I want to make it clear where my line sits.”
The rest of the day she spent making sure all the content was ready and queued to post while she was away and that all the projects that weren’t done yet had been delegated to other people. She and Steve were planning to leave for Oregon straight from work and as it got close to the time, she was due to be picked up, she was glad for the fact the jet would wait for them.
By the time she was running out the front door of the building she was fifteen minutes late, frantic, and panicking that she’d forgotten something.
“Sorry, sorry,” she said to the driver as he held the door open for her. She repeated it again as she slid into the backseat of the car with Steve.
“It’s fine, sweetheart,” Steve assured her. “The jet will wait for us.”
“Yeah, but you were waiting in traffic,” she argued.
He laughed and put his hand on her cheeks and looked into her eyes. “It’s fine. Relax.”
She didn’t really know how she could. With what had happened at work, now she was flying home for the first time in over two years to spend a week with a family she was still angry with, and to introduce them to her new boyfriend. There was too much to just relax about. “Easy for you to say,” she grumbled, teasing despite the truth to it.
“Oh yes,” he said. “Very easy. I’m about to meet my girlfriend’s parents. Parents who rejected her best friend, a child who they thought of as family too, came out as trans. Oh, and at a time when my fans are relentlessly attacking her online calling her names, I wouldn’t dare repeat. It’s very easy for me to relax.”
She scrunched her nose and leaned in, kissing his plump lips softly. “You’re not responsible for your fans. Especially not fans that don’t actually seem to be able to interpret the message you’re putting out there correctly, because if they were real fans they wouldn’t be sending me the kinds of things they’re sending me. And as for my parents, I’m mad at them and I’ll continue being mad even when they do realize that they chose the wrong side. And I do truly think they will come around, because they raised me to be loving and opening and accepting. Mom’s best friend rejected their child when they couldn’t accept they were a daughter and not a son and mom didn’t want to lose her friend by offering her a home. When I walked out too, she put her back up, the way people do. In any case, they will love you. So you don’t need to worry about them. And maybe you can help them see how they were so wrong.”
He caressed her cheek and stole another kiss. “So what you’re saying is; we both need to relax.”
She laughed. “Something like that.”
The drive out to the airport where Tony’s private hanger was kept was uneventful but when the car pulled onto the runway rather than going through security, Melody couldn’t help but look out the window in awe. It drove right up to Tony Stark’s Boeing 737 and stopped by the stairs where a flight attendant was waiting. She greeted them both as they got out and airport staff grabbed their bags from the trunk and carried them onboard. Steve and Melody followed along as the flight attendant told them about their travel time and expected time of arrival. The plane was far grander than I’d imagined.
Melody had never been on a private jet before, but in her head they were little planes with just a couple of fancy seats in it that rich people took so they didn’t have to huddle down with the masses. This jet was large. The kind people typically took for domestic flights between major cities, with the business class section of columns of two seats, and then two columns of three for economy. Only instead of rows and rows of seating, there was a collection of four large swivel seats just inside the door to the cabin, followed by couches by a large screen and a bar, and then more further down that was walled off from view. It was spacious and opulent, and her whole apartment probably could have been sliced up and fit inside.
The flight attendant led them to the seats just inside the cabin and gestured for them to sit. “We’ll be taking off shortly. You’ll need to stay buckled up for take off but then you have free reign of the plane until we land. We will be serving a meal about three hours in. Can I get either of you something now? A drink? Something to eat?”
“I’m fine, thank you,” Steve said as he buckled himself in. Melody shook her head and echoed Steve’s words and the flight attendant began walking down the cabin doing the takeoff checks.
“This is so fancy,” Melody said. “I mean - I expected it to be fancy, but this is fancy-fancy.”
“Yeah, it’s a lot. It’s very Tony though, and it’s really nice of him to have offered it. I always feel so cramped up in economy,” he said. “There’s a queen-sized bed back there.” He gestured behind himself with his thumb.
She peered past him, looking down the length of the cabin down the hall. “Seriously? What the hell?” Her eyes flicked back to him. “You would have flown economy with me?”
He smiled and tilted his head. “Of course, I would have.”
Melody hated the gap between them. She really wanted to unbuckle the seatbelt, straddle his lap, and kiss him until they landed in Oregon. Instead, she poked out her foot and tapped him on the shin. “You keep that up and you’re totally joining the mile-high club today.”
“Keep what up?” Steve chuckled. “Telling you cheaper modes of transport I’d take for you? Oh, Mel, I’d totally hire an economy-sized car for you. One of those ones that only have two doors and a hatchback.”
“Oh baby,” Melody laughed.
“You like that do you?” Steve teased. “Then you’ll love this. I’d catch a bus for you, Melody Danes.”
Melody’s hands went to her crotch and she flicked her fingers out. “Sploosh,” she teased. “My panties, Steve.”
He lost it laughing. “I’d do Uber ride share for you, honey.”
They both broke down in peels of laughter. The plane had begun to taxi out to the runway and as they settled back down again and when they were given the all-clear, Melody unbuckled her seatbelt and stood up. “I want to go look at the rest of the plane,” she said.
Steve stood and gestured to the back of the plane. “After you.”
It was only a few steps down to the entertainment area with its bar, couches, and big screen. “If you want we can watch a movie during the flight,” he said. “And I’m sure Tony won’t mind if you want a drink. Rhodey tells me there are stripper poles that come out from the ground somewhere here, but I don’t know if that’s true or how to get them to come out to see either way.”
“Oh man, Tony’s a card,” Melody said as she looked around. “I wonder how many in-air strip shows have happened up here.”
“I’m too scared to ask,” he said.
There were two doors to the right as they walked down a corridor toward the back of the plane. “This is a bedroom,” Steve said, opening one of the doors. It was small and simple inside, just a full bed and barely enough room to move around it. It was still impressive given it was on a plane. He didn’t open the next door, but he rapped the back of his knuckles on it as he passed. “That’s Tony’s workshop.”
“He has a workshop? On his jet?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Sometimes he needs last-minute repairs or additions to the suit. It’s probably the most practical thing on here.”
They reached a door, and Steve opened it and stepped into the room beyond. Melody stopped dead with her mouth hanging open. It was clearly the main bedroom and was more opulent than she could have ever imagined. The queen-sized bed sat to the right of the door and was decorated in rich golds and reds. Opposite was a screen for watching television or movies, and to the right was a wardrobe. “Holy hell,” she said. “This is nicer than my room.”
“I don’t know about that,” Steve said, going to open the door at the very end. “Bathroom.”
Melody closed the door behind her before she approached Steve and poked her head into the bathroom. She stood with her mouth hanging open as she looked into it. It was black and gold with enough space to move around and even had a shower that would easily fit both of them. There was an alcove with fluffy robes and towels hanging in it, and an assortment of shampoos, soaps, and lotions on the sink. “Well, this is definitely nicer than my bathroom.”
Steve laughed and nodded. “I’ll agree to that.”
She turned and stood up on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around Steve’s neck. “How much sex do you think that bed has seen?”
Steve laughed and leaned into her, ghosting his lips over hers. “That is a question I never want the answer to, but I’d say more than I’ve ever had.”
She laughed with him and captured his lips. He kissed her back, slowly and deeply, his lips parting when her tongue coaxed them open. His hands ran down her back and settled on her ass. His fingers tightened and he lifted her, just enough that her feet were off the floor, but her toes grazed the carpet, and he carried her over to the bed. Melody’s hands went to his cheeks and she held his face in place as she kissed along his jaw. “Is this really happening?”
He chuckled and set her on the bed, guiding her back as she crawled up between her legs. “You said I could join the mile-high club if I kept telling you what kind of transportation I’d take for you.”
“Oh right, of course,” she said, holding his cheeks and looking into his eyes. “How could I forget?”
She pulled him down into another deep kiss and they began to strip. First kicking off their shoes and letting them clatter to the floor, and then breaking their kiss just long enough to pull off their shirts. As they kissed frantically and passionately they worked down each other’s pants. Steve’s hands deftly unfastening Melody’s fly, as Melody fumbled with his. He managed to get hers down first and she kicked them aside and then together they worked his off.
By the time they were both completely naked, she was wet and aching for him. She wrapped her hand around his cock, pumping it as she slid the head up and down her slit. “Mmm - fuck, Steve,” she hummed as she tapped the head on her clit. “I want you so badly.”
“So what are you waiting for, honey?” Steve teased.
She pressed his cock to her entrance, but held him there, not letting him push in at all. He pulled back and looked down at her. “What are we waiting for?” he asked.
She bit her bottom lip. “You to beg.”
Steve rolled you both over, so she was straddling him. He looked up at her, his blue eyes darkened with lust and he arched his back. “Please, Melody. Please. I need to be inside you so badly.”
She pushed herself up on her knees and held herself over his cock. “Good boy,” she praised and lowered herself down.
They moaned in unison, Steve raising his hips as Melody leaned forward and braced her hand on his shoulders. She began to ride him, slowly moving up and down on his cock. Every time she pushed herself up, she squeezed her walls around his thick shaft, and when she dropped back down again she stopped just before he hit her cervix.
He reached up to touch her and she grabbed his hands and pushed them above his head. “God, Steve,” she moaned. “You fill me so good.”
“That’s right, honey,” he growled. “You take me so well.”
“Made for you, Steve,” she moaned.
He twisted his wrists, grabbing hers and pinning her hands behind her back and he leaned up and kissed her as he snapped his hips up into her. She mewled into his lips, a soft high feeling setting over her. She rolled her hips as he thrusting up into her and they kissed deeply and passionately.
Pleasure coiled through her like a snake, winding its way around each of her muscles and then tightening at once as her orgasm tore through her. She cried out loudly as her orgasm tore through her. Steve groaned, his hips bucking up wildly as her walls squeezed and milked his cock. His balls tightened and he threw his head back, moaning loudly as he came inside her.
“Fuck, Steve,” she sighed, cradling his jaw and looking down into her eyes. “That was amazing. What a way to join the mile-high club.”
She kissed him deeply and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her as close as he could as they kissed. Slowly she pulled back, sucking on his bottom lip as she did.
“We should probably take a quick shower and head back out there,” he said.
“Yeah, they did say they were bringing us food,” she said.
He laughed. “Don’t want them bringing it in here when we’re like this,” he chuckled.
She laughed with him, pecking her lips and getting off his lap. “I think we need to fly economy next time. I could too easily get used to this,” she said.
He followed after her, squeezing her butt. “Trying to get all turned on again as I list all the transport I will take for you?” he asked.
She giggled and turned around, grabbing his hands and backing into the bathroom. “Mile-high shower sex club,” she joked. “What do you say?”
Steve leaned down, hovering his lips over hers. “I say I lead the way,” he said. He captured her lips, kissing her deeply. Melody kissed back passionately. It was nice, with all this mess around them, they could find these moments where nothing could touch them.
// NEXT
#marvel#avengers#steve rogers#captain america#steve rogers fanfic#captain america fanfic#steve rogers x oc#steve rogers x ofc#ofc#original character fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#smut#the interview#avengerscompound
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I love tumblr it's like a really excited (feral) puppy jumping up and down so much when it meets new people that it tuckers out from all the excitement
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I would LOVE a part two of the birthday drabble if ur open to that? maybe how max tries to ask for reader’s forgiveness? maybe asking Charles for help but he’s just like “no u gotta figure it out on ur own this time buddy” bc he’s mad at him too?
PART ONE. Max totally blanks on your birthday plans and it’s not pretty.
Max is pacing around the kitchen when you wake up the next morning. When his gaze snaps up to meet yours, you can see the bags under his eyes. You think about reaching for him when you remember what happened, so, you simply walk past him to make some coffee.
“Good morning, schat.” He whispers, looking down. You’re still very much hurt but seeing him like this breaks your heart.
Maybe you’re being too mean, giving him the cold shoulder and not even meeting his eyes, but you also think about what your best friend said last night when you called her crying. He needs to sort out his priorities and give you what you deserve. And you also need to stand up for yourself, you’ve let Max get away with similar things in the past and it’s time for that to stop.
“Good morning,” Charles says as he enters the kitchen. He looks at Max but doesn’t say anything when he sees his eyes filled with tears. You’re hurt but he’s angry. “Want me to drive to your appointment?”
“Mmh.” You nod, taking your cup of coffee and going back to your room.
Charles opens the fridge and tries to look busy waiting for Max to get the fuck out of the kitchen. But that doesn’t happen and he is forced to close the door and face his boyfriend.
“Have you talked to her?” Max asks him, rubbing his hand over his face.
“Yea’,” Charles simply answers, trying to choose between an apple or banana for breakfast. You or Max are the ones always cooking because Charles just can’t do it, but you’re not in the mood to make breakfast and he’s definitely not gonna ask Max. “I’m not the one who fucked everything up.”
“I’m sorry, okay? I just—I didn’t forget, but there were—”
“I don’t fucking care, Max. It was her birthday! It was supposed to be special but instead of enjoying the one day—the only day she really asks for our attention, she cried all the way home.”
Max feels like crying again. He feels awful but doesn’t know what to do to make things better.
The Dutchman opens his mouth but before he can say anything, Charles holds his palm up, shutting him up.
“I won’t tell you what to do, you need to figure that out by yourself.”
Charles storms out of the kitchen, leaving a sad Max behind.
You don’t say goodbye when you leave but Charles, at least, tells him that they should be home by eight, to not wait for them because they will be having lunch together. He doesn’t ask Max if he wants to join.
Max doesn’t know what to do.
You’ve never been this angry before. Charles is a different story, they’ve been racing their whole lives together, so, he has seen parts of Charles you don’t even know.
Max thinks about calling his mom to ask her for advice, God, even calling his sister, but rejects the idea because he knows what they will say.
It’s all his fault. Stupid Max, stupid SimRacing—
Max gets up from the couch, he doesn’t know how much has passed since you left, but the sun is already sitting down.
When Max enters his streaming room he wants to cry again. And he does.
He cries as he disconnects everything. He cries when he smashes the camera onto the floor. He cries while throwing a chair across the room, crashing against the wall. He cries looking at the mess he made, the mess he is.
Max falls to the floor and cries, and cries, and cries, until he feels two strong arms around him and soft words spoken into his ear.
“Max, breathe with me, please,” Charles begs, caressing his back and lifting his chin up with his free hand. Max’s gaze focuses on his face as he imitates his boyfriend, inhaling and exhaling slowly. It takes some time, but Max eventually stops shaking. “Oh, Max. What did you do?” Charles sounds so broken and disappointed, Max doesn’t want him to feel like that. He’s done so much already.
Max starts crying again.
“Shh, it’s okay,” Charles wipes his tears and kisses his eyelids.
Max doesn’t deserve this.
“Hey, love.” Max turns his head around at the sound of your voice. You crouch down next to him, a soft smile dancing on your lips. “Would you drink this, please? For me?” He doesn’t need to be asked twice. You guide the glass to his lips and he drinks the water — with a little bit of sugar you always add when you’re not feeling okay.
Max wants to talk, he wants to apologize again, he wants to scream at you and Charles for being so attentive with him when he doesn’t deserve it. But he feels so tired, all he can do is lean into your touch when you cradle his face with both your hands, palms comfortable against the stubble on his cheeks.
“We’re gonna buy new things and me and Charles will help you set everything up, okay?”
Max wants to scream. Instead, he barely has the voice to say, “I don’t want any of this. I fucked up because of this stupid shit.”
“Max,” Charles calls his name, moving around so he’s sitting next to you. “You love it.”
“I love you more.” He simply says, looking between you and Charles. “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry…” He lets silent tears fall down his cheeks.
“I know you’re sorry.” You lean to leave a kiss on his forehead, then, you look directly into his eyes. “I’m still hurt, Max. I won’t lie. We need to have a long conversation, the three of us, but I don’t want you to quit something that you love and enjoy so much. I just,” You notice you’re crying when Max wipes the tears with his thumb. “I want to be a priority in your life.”
“And you are!” He wants to smash his head onto the floor. “God you,” He takes your hand, lips quivering. “and you,” He takes Charles’s hand then. He guides them to his chest, just where his heart is. “are the most important people in my life. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
There’s still so much to say but, for right now, you just want to be as close as possible. You’ll have plenty of time to figure out how to go from here.
#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#f1 x reader#charles leclerc x reader#max verstappen x reader#lestappen x reader#f1 imagine#poly!f1#f1 grid x reader
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neighbor ghoap deciding it’s time to quickly put their plan into action once they get a taste of reader’s own sounds through the walls.
Brought home some guy off tinder, and they were seething the whole time. They heard the door slam, noting that the guy had left, and your moans started again. This time they were different, real, which just made Simon start laughing.
no cuz johnny almost bit through the skin of his knuckles in fury.
see, he's the one that's nudging at simon about how he needs to have you, even if it's the once.
(it's not gonna be but what simon don't know won't kill him)
simon is a bit reluctant because he's not used to sharing. what's his is his. period.
but johnny's got a honey mouth. he can spin straw into gold.
it takes a couple of deep throat blowjobs, and a few nights of murmuring directly into simon's ear as he gets fucked into the mattress to make simon see (his) reason.
and then you've gone and brought someone home. some bawbag that sounds like a cow about to breathe it's last. he feels rage, white hot, deep in his chest. his blood is practically at a rolling boil under his skin.
the last time he felt this angry was when they had makarov in the plane.
he can't even hear your sweet little whimpers you usually let out when you masturbate.
johnny turns to simon, who's absentmindedly cleaning his gun on the table and tells him to get up.
"make sure tha' feartie doesnae come back when he leaves, aye?" he snarls.
simon tips his head wordlessly. he'll let johnny order him around, just this once. the scrunched skin of johnny's nose as he bares his teeth in aggression is adorable.
he racks the slide of the gun and places it down with an audible clack, grabs his leather jacket from the chair and shrugs it on.
"does he need to disappear?"
johnny makes a disgusted sound at the back of his throat. "i dinnae care! just make sure he goes and stays gone."
simon moves quick- light on his feet toward him and fists his hair cruelly, forcibly craning johnny's neck back to lock eyes with him.
down boy.
"watch the attitude, or i'll be fuckin' it outta ya 'n there won't be anyone tell tha' imbecile t'piss off, yeah?" simon's voice rumbles with his warning.
if johnny had ears, they'd be pinned flat to his head. "aye."
he gives a soft slap to johnny's cheek. "good. i'll be back," and is out the door in seconds.
-
the next day, johnny corners approaches you in the lift, and rubs the back of his neck, feigning discomfort.
he watches your eyes widen, mouth gape in sheer horror as he tells you that he got no sleep, some guy couldn't stop caterwauling like a cat in heat last night.
oh, you look like you're about to burst into tears. he can't help but unabashedly stare at you. that expression is moving all the blood in his head south.
please cry. he'd come in his pants if you did.
the lift pings and the moment is broken, so johnny wipes the drool from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand and does that he's always done best.
use his honeyed tongue.
"grab a tea with me? i promise to not bite." he walks out and steps to the side, extending a hand towards you.
he notices your hesitance, so he amps up his charm. johnny's lips curl into a roguish smile, the blunt edges of his white teeth barely visible.
"please? jus' a tea. i'll pay." simon's always said he looks best while begging.
you must seem to think so too, because you're sliding your much smaller, softer hand in his- fingers grazing the rings that adorn his hand.
"atta lass. we'll take a cab."
-
a few days later, johnny has the tv running in the background as he cooks dinner, when he hears:
'a man crashed into the bay, possibly under the influence...'
you're all theirs, now.
only theirs.
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Just One More
WARNING: Overstimulation, crying reader, language, fingering
“No, no, no, no!”
There you are, 4 orgasms in and writhing wildly in Bucky’s arms as he continues to rub circles around your clit. You're trembling with tears streaming down your face while you desperately try to get away from the torturous manipulation of his hands. All he could do was smile as he keeps the cold, heavy metal of his left arm tight around you middle.
He kept pulling you back into his chest when you couldn't help but buck your hips and gasps for breath, “Bucky… please… no more, I can’t-”. He puts two fingers in your abused opening,
“Yes, you can,” he says sternly, mouth pressed to your ear. The bass in his voice vibrates the wires in your brain. He's all you crave.
He lets out a deep breath when he slides a third finger into your hole. You were helpless and at his mercy. Your hands are trapped behind your back, between your torsos with a red Christmas ribbon he found. Your legs were trapped between his so when you tried to close them, he just had to spread his wider. There was absolutely nothing you could do to stop him from playing with your sensitive pussy.
“Ohhh, I’m not done yet, Baby. Not yet.” He pulled his fingers out and went back to the same speed on your clit.
“Oh my god, Sir… fuck, please, don’t stop,” you moan loudly, trashing in his grip when the tight coil in your abdomen comes undone. Wave after wave of pleasure crashing through you. You're full on sobbing in blissful agony before going tractable in his arms. All your body could do was tremble from head to toe when he pressed his nose into your slick neck and finally slips his fingers out of you. He loosens his hold on your torso, allowing your legs to close a bit to give you a well deserved moment. You go to close them more when he cups his hand possessively around your pussy. He’s still not done.
You start to cry again; the combination of the tears and your whining making you sound so pathetic and helpless. He just eats it up.
“Noooo… Bucky, please, no more… stop, I- I can’t… please, no…”
“Shhh. You're doing so well for me,” he says, pressing his lips against your temple. "What do you say to get me to stop?"
He laid a light tap to your swollen petals, "tell, y/n. Stay with me."
"Brooklyn," you said in the faintest whisper.
"Why?"
"It's where we met...FUCK!"
He doesn’t wait another moment before slipping two fingers back inside your sopping pussy, making you cry out when they graze your ultra sensitive walls.
“James-FUCKKK!,” You drag out as you sit your head up to watch his attack on you,
"You want me to stop? Say it and I'll stop." He knew you wouldn't and he reveled at the fact that he had complete control over you. The fact that he didn't reprimand you for using his legal name meant that he was having way too much fun in this torture session to even care.
“No! Please don't stop…” His fingers reached the spot that undoes it all and your eyes roll back as you place your head back on him, completely quiet.
"Jesus fucking Christ," Bucky watches, mesmerized that it's him who's making you cum like this.
You whimper in his arms, gulping in large breaths that pass right by his ear from where my head is resting on his shoulder. Your entire body is trembling. Your sweaty skin sliding along his own when you try to wiggle away from his touch.
You stay like that for a moment before he presses another kiss to your temple. By this time, your eyes are closed and you're starting to come down. Your breathing stables until you feel a heavy, icy sensation start to travel back to your overused cunt.
"You've been such a good girl for me. I know you can give me another, Baby.”
#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x black!reader
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Coraline
Synopsis: Y/n’s childhood and history with her parents has always stayed a secret, and she likes it that way. Until a journalist reveals the truth, and everything seems to come crashing down at once.
young female driver reader x 2023 F1 grid
A/N: a few things for this fic: reader will be 20 years old, had driven for alpha tauri since the beginning of 2022, the 2022 is the same as the 2023 grid, and please look at the trigger warning below.
Trigger Warning: This fic contains abusive parents, talks of eating disorders, neglecting a kid, verbally abusing a kid, signs of depression, and a lot of hurtful comments in general. This fic is not meant to idolize or romanticize having abusive parents or depression. If anyone finds anything particularly disturbing with this fic, do not hesitate to let me know and I will fix it.
tagged: @treehouse-mouse
2023 was supposed to be a good season for Alpha Tauri. The cars looked good, your driver pairing was solid, and the hopes were high for your junior Red Bull team. You could only laugh at the naivety of it now.
Most of the season was exceptional; you and Yuki Tsunoda brought in points almost every weekend, your team was seventh in the constructors championship, and overall, you were having a great time traveling around the world.
This was your second year in Formula 1, and now that you weren’t a rookie anymore, you could have more fun now that you knew what you were doing.
Some people just don’t like others being happy, though.
With less than 10 races left, you walked into the paddock for the Monza Grand Prix Thursday afternoon feeling optimistic. This was the second race after the summer break, and Alpha Tauri was expected to do well in Italy.
Your press officer, Ally, greeted you in your garage, and after saying hello to Yuki, you followed her out of the garage and into the media pen for a press conference.
You walk in to see Lewis, Carlos, Lando, and Fernando and talked quietly with them as the press in front of you get settled. “Everybody ready? All right, first question please” One of the directors asks, as a journalists speaks up.
“Lewis, you’ve witnessed the infamous ‘Monza Curse’ multiple times in your career, do you think the theory is true and will it strike again this year?”
“Um, no” Lewis chuckles. “I don’t believe in the curse, but it would be nice to see someone new finish first today, and if a curse is what it’s going to take, then yeah, why not”
The five of you laugh, not noticing the second journalist beginning to speak. “Y/n, what do you have to say about the recent article published regarding your past with your family?”
You instantly stop laughing, hoping you misheard the man.
“Sorry?”
There’s no way
“The article? That was recently published concerning your past with your parents, what do you have to say about it?” The journalist stared at you curiously while your mind blanked for an answer.
You had no idea what article he was talking about, but if it concerned your past with your ‘family’, you knew it wasn’t anything that should be published.
Suddenly there’s movement in the midst of the media pen, and your press officer emerges from the crowd. “Y/n, come with me” She pauses, seeing one of the directors nearing out of the corner of her eye.
“It’s urgent, I need her” You’d take any excuse to get away from the current situation, so after exchanging a look with Lewis, you follow the woman into the paddock towards your garage.
Once you were both in the safety of your drivers room, you turned on her. “What article is he talking about? What’s going on?” You said, voice heavy with concern.
Ally hesitated, looking uncomfortable, before answering. “This morning, an article published a story talking about you and your parents, and the-um, harsh history you have with them” She hands you her phone, said article already open.
“I think it’s better if you read it yourself” The bold letters blink up at you, clear and sullen.
“F1 DRIVERS UNCOVERED: THE REAL REASON WE DON’T SEE Y/N L/N’S PARENTS”
Your heart falls to your stomach and your hands start to shake as your eyes skim over the words of the most invading and overwhelming article you’ve ever read in your life. Whoever wrote this, wrote it in hopes of exposing every secret of your past, and further tangles the truth of an already over-complicated background.
The real reason your parents are never around you is a reason you hate talking about.
You first realized it when you were around ten years old, the way your parents never looked happy around each other, and always tense around other parents. The way they never said ‘I love you’ or kissed each other goodbye. It confused you, as these were the things you always saw your friend’s parents do, but you were too young to understand at the time, so you mainly ignored it.
It wasn’t until one night when you were eleven that you heard an argument erupting from your kitchen, one about money and divorces and you. The shouting continued for ages, until you heard one statement, loud and clear.
“Think about this, she’s getting good in those karting competitions of hers, and according to other parents she could go really far in this thing and get money from sponsorships and mentors. So let’s just give it a little time, make sure she gets better and gets paid, and the money will go to us and eventually she’ll leave to Formula- whatever and we won’t have to worry about her”
You put your pillow over your head, turned around, and went to sleep sobbing that night.
From then on, there was no ‘I love you’s’ or kisses goodbye even to you, and eventually, no happiness in your house. The ‘other parents’ were right, the older you got, the farther you looked to go in racing. Just before you turned 13, the three of you moved to a city in England so you could pursue karting further, and that’s when it all got worse.
You competed in countless competitions, and every race you won, the more criticism you got from your mom and dad. The second you stepped off the 1st place podium, your parents were waiting to comment on your driving and the techniques you should’ve used to win.
They never let you focus on anything but karting, letting you go nowhere but the track and to school, and made sure you were always looking for ways to get better. They ruthlessly compared you to kids in other series that were performing better than you, and countered every compliment someone gave you with a complaint.
All of this seemed like a dream compared to the treatment you got when you lost. Whether it be second, or tenth, every race you didn’t come first in was a loss, and your parents simply didn’t accept this.
When you lost, they’d make you practice on track for twice as long, no matter the weather, and berated you the second you started to complain. They limited your diet after your losses, claiming you needed to be lighter if you wanted the kart to go faster.
Your mother and father gave you this relentless attention with anything regarding racing, but the moment the topic drifted, you were neglected. There were no family dinners or movie nights, if you wanted something, you were going to have to buy it with your own money, and if you wanted to go somewhere, you needed to walk or find a ride because they refused to drive you anywhere if it wasn’t for a race.
There was no other family to go to even when things go impossibly rougher; you had no other relatives in the UK, and you couldn’t exactly ask your friends if you could live with them.
So you endured these conditions, all the way through the F4 British Championship, F3 and F2. You turned 18 while you were in Formula 2, and the second you did, you took the little money you had, and rented an apartment in South England, where you’ve been living ever since.
Your parents constantly contacted you in whatever ways they could, but you very quickly made sure they didn’t know where you lived and were never given paddock passes again. No one knows any of this anyway; when people ask where your parents are or when they’d get to meet them, you just shrug and say, “they couldn’t make it”
You haven’t seen your parents in person since you were 17, and you’ve done everything in your power to keep it like that.
Though with a few thousand words and 4 hours, one nosy journalist has managed to unravel all your work and growth and release it into the world.
You’re broken out of your stunned silence when Ally puts a hand on your shoulder. “I’ve set up a meeting with Alpha Tauri and Red Bull’s PR managers so we could figure out what we should do next to keep the press off your back, okay? The meeting’s in fifteen meetings, so I’ll leave you for a while”
Ally takes her phone back and exits the room to leave you standing still in the middle of it, astonished and speechless.
The meeting goes as well as you expected it to go. You shared as much as the truth as you saw fit, and came up with a statement to post with the rest of the PR managers. You were confirmed to go back to the media pen to finish interviews an hour later, and while no one asked you about the article, you could tell it was the unanswered question they all wanted to raise.
You are able to avoid most of the press of the remaining of the Italian weekend, and stuck to answering race-related questions only, your safest and only option, Ally told you later. You finished the Grand Prix P10, and flew home still sullen.
You spent the two weeks in between Monza and Japan in your apartment, regretfully thinking about all those years you had to spend under your parent’s treatment, and trying to forget them with simulator work.
You arrive in Suzuka, quiet and unsmiling, and try to ignore the shouting of the press that greets you on your way into the paddock. Ally guides you away as two new voices greet you.
“Hey Y/n, how are you?” Lewis asks, pulling you into a side hug and stepping into place beside you.
“Are you okay? You seem off” Charles says concerned, meeting you in a handshake.
“I’m fine, my flight just got in late last night so I’m tired, that’s all” You half smiled in response, hoping it was believable enough.
“Sure?” Lewis presses father. “Yeah, I’m okay” You nod.
“Okay, well, we’re still going into the city after media today?” Lewis asks. “Of course, I’ll meet you guys at my hotel after” You assure as you near the Alpha Tauri garage.
“See you then, and try to sleep a bit, yes?” Charles says before the two men walk off together.
Your friendship with the two drivers started because of the Spanish and British Grand Prix’s, the two races that gave you your two highest race finishes, and ended with two of your closest friends. Spain was a great race for both you and Lewis, yourself in P4, him in P2, and after non-stop talking in the paddock, you flew back to the UK together, effectively starting the friendship existing today.
You’d been friendly with Charles previously, but after his P9 finish in Silverstone and your P5 finish, he realized in a conversation before an interview that you were undeniably good at cheering people up, and you guys have been close since.
You’ve talked with them since Monza, of course, but not about the article. They want to talk to you about it, you can tell, but Charles and Lewis aren’t the type of people to just come right out and ask if you’re feeling okay about your history with your abusive parents being exposed to the world.
They also don’t want to pressure you into talking about something you clearly don’t want to talk about, so if all they can do is help distract you from the media, they’re going to.
Your night out with the Mercedes and Ferrari drivers does distract you; Lewis leads you and Charles to different shops and restaurants all over Suzuka, talking and laughing the entire time. You take a few photos along the way, and you go back to your hotel still smiling.
You kept your good mood until qualifying on Saturday, and are brought back into the reality of racing when you only manage P11. It’s technically not bad of a result for your car, but P9 or P8 would’ve been better right now, because all you can think about is what your parents would’ve said if you finished P11.
They’re paying you millions of dollars to race for them and the best you can do is eleventh?
You think you deserve to be here?
They are hundreds of other drivers that would do so much better than you
You are nothing compared to the other drivers
You’re lucky if you keep you seat next season, I know I wouldn’t let a P11 driver on my team
You go quiet at the thought, and get through post-race media stoic. You leave with your trainer as soon as you can, avoiding Lewis and Charles’s eyes on your way out. You have a week before you have to leave for Qatar, and spend a countless amount of hours on your simulator, hoping this time it’ll make a difference.
You flew into Lusail not knowing what to expect other than hot weather, and unfortunately you were right. You felt the heat as soon as you got in your car for FP1 on Friday and was already dreading the rest of the weekend.
You qualify P11 for both the race and the sprint, and end up in P12 for the two. You felt terrible after Sunday’s race, both physically and mentally, and you’re already berating yourself for your performance by the time you get weighed.
Charles and Lewis are in your post-race press conference group, and you can see them exchange a look after every cold and detached answer you give. You only stop to talk to your friends for a few minutes afterwards before you excuse yourself to go cool down, and leave minutes later with the defense of needing rest.
You fly back to the UK with Lewis, and you’re glad the two of you are asleep for most of the trip so Lewis won’t ask you to talk about why you’ve been so quiet.
The 10 days you have until you fly out to Austin are spent mostly on your phone, looking at all the comments people have been making about you since the article came out, saying how you probably deserved the treatment that you got, and how Alpha Tauri needs a more “stable” driver if they want to advance in the championship.
You don’t do much except exercise and train on the sim in those days, finding neither the desire or energy to do anything else.
Even though everyone is happy to be in Texas that week, you can’t find the energy to truly smile once that weekend. Charles and Lewis are practically stuck to your side, and even though you can tell they’re dying to ask you to talk about it, they only ask a few times if you wanted to tell them something, and when you denied, and simply offered companionship through silence.
It’s another sprint race, and you only pull off P12 and 13 for qualifying and the shootout, and drop a place by the end of both races.
You feel more frustrated with yourself than ever; you don’t understand why you can’t work with the car like you once used to, and you can’t even figure out how to again. You were doing so well until that fucking article came out, and all the sudden you don’t know how to drive.
The worst part about it is that every race, more and more people are realizing how you’ve been under-performing, and how people are starting to question your ability to drive for the junior Red Bull team.
You aren’t stupid, you know how things work at Red Bull, so you know that if you don’t pick your pace up soon, you could end up without a seat for the 2024 season.
This thought alone starts to destroy you, and soon you can’t even deny how burnt out you are. You pick up on the forced habit of not eating much, and making yourself to do nothing but train and look for ways to be better.
You spend the days before Mexico with data analysts and strategists, looking for any and every way to go faster. You dedicate too much time looking at successful F2 drivers, hearing Liam Lawson’s name come up too much for comfort, thinking about how Dennis Hauger had been looking fast in F2.
It’s a terribly unhealthy time killer, one that makes you look sick and go quiet. Charles and Lewis aren’t the only ones exchanging concerned looks now; multiple other drivers on the grid, friends with you or not, notice the change in your behavior and quickly grow worried when they hear Yuki’s description of you.
The drivers aren’t stupid either, they all know about the article that was published in September, and most of them would be lying if they said they hadn’t looked at it in curiosity. They’d also be lying if they saw their eyes didn’t widen in concern or eyebrows didn’t furrow with worry when they read how terrible your parents treated you.
The grid saw how the comments got nastier and nastier under your lessening social media posts every day, and even asked your PR officer multiple times to make sure she was managing your accounts and making sure you didn’t see what people had to say about your background or yourself.
They saw how you got quieter every race, how you stopped hanging out with Yuki and Charles and Lewis, no matter how many times they offered. They saw the rumors of you and your 2024 seat, how apparently Helmut Marko was paying close attention to you and the clauses in your contract.
They asked a lot, if you wanted to talk or if they could help in any way. It was always the same response; a weary smile, a small shake of the head, the words,“No, I’m fine, just tired” and an excuse that you were needed in your garage or media pen.
So they try to help in more discreet ways; when Yuki is asked about your position on Alpha Tauri or your future with Red Bull, he calmly assures that you are working hard with the team, and is doing everything possible to understand the car.
Charles, Lewis, and a few other drivers make a routine of coming to your driver’s room, most of the time just to sit with you as you look at data, or talk with you when you’re feeling up to it.
Mexico goes somehow worse than Texas, and you finish with your lowest result in F1 yet, P15. You try to be as approachable as possible in post-race media, but your sullen face gives you away.
You leave with Ally and your trainer to catch your flight to Brazil mere hours after you passed the checkered flag, and spend most of your time in Sau Paulo alone in your hotel room, replaying every hurtful comment either your mother and father or fans have said about you, and debating whether or not it was true.
You walk into the Brazilian paddock Thursday morning more grateful than you thought possible that this was the third-to-last race of your season.
And according to over twenty media sources, your third-to last race of F1.
After a public statement made by Marko talking about how Red Bull was “considering your future with their junior team” every journalist in the F1 community has decided that it means this was your last season in F1.
And honestly, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Whether you raced in 2024 or not, you just wanted to go home and avoid the press for three months.
It was another sprint weekend, and another terrible qualifying and shootout. You placed 15th in both sessions and kept your place in the sprint, and spent a quiet Saturday evening in your hotel.
You could feel almost every journalists eye’s turn to you as soon as you walked into the paddock on Sunday. You arrived early that afternoon to get some extra data-stuff done, only now realizing that it gave the growing group of reporters behind you more time to ask you questions.
“Y/n! Can you tell us about your future in F1?”
“Will you have a seat next year?
“Y/n, what does Helmut Marko think about your decrease in performance?”
“Does your past with your parents have anything to do with your recent race results?”
You try to keep your face emotionless as you make your way into the Alpha Tauri garage and to your drivers room. You prepare for the race with your personal trainer and look over the arranged strategies for Sau Paulo while you wait for the go-ahead to get in your car.
Due to all the crashed-out cars, you ended the race in P12 in front of Oscar Piastri and Daniel Ricciardo. Statistically speaking, it was one of your better 2023 races, but everyone knows if it wasn’t for all the DNF’s, you’d finish in the bottom five.
You know that everyone knows this because just before you walked into the media pen after your race debrief, you saw Christian Horner and Marko speaking to your team principle, and after Yuki’s P9 finish today, it didn’t take you even a second to understand who they were talking about with disappointed faces and multiple shakes of the head.
Sure, this could mean nothing. This could just be a conversation between the three people that control the top team and it’s junior team. But you also like to think you’re a bit smarter than that.
You walked deeper into the crowded area before the three could see you, and walked to the first open journalist you saw, in hopes of leaving early.
“Y/n, hi! Not too bad of a race for you today, I guess?” The man asked, pointing his microphone towards you
“Yeah, not too bad. The car felt pretty okay and there was a bit of pace, but not enough to overtake or anything, clearly” You reply.
“Can we expect more race pace from you in Las and Vegas and Abu Dhabi?”
“I mean, it’s a bit too early to tell, but we’ll hope and see what comes out out of the practices” The man nods before looking down at his notebook.
“And your seat for Alpha Tauri next year, we know you’re apart of the confirmed driver lineup for 2024 but Helmut Marko states that there are attainable clauses in your contract, what do you think about that?”
You’re caught off guard by the question, but right when you’re about to respond, the man continues.
“Surely, Alpha Tauri isn’t really considering keeping you for next season, are they?”
You’re standing in front of the man speechless now, your brain barely comprehending what’s being spoken.
“Because I know the last thing a team wants is an incapable driver that is too emotionally effected by her “traumatic” childhood to race,” the volume of his voice starts to increase, and other drivers are starting to focus on your one-sided conversation.
“I mean, c’mon, no one even believes that even happened to you, and if it did, your parents were probably right for doing it-”
Your hands are shaking, eyes are wide with shock, body suddenly freezing, and you don’t even think you’re breathing. All you can do is listen as this man goes on and on about how you’re a shitty driver and deserved how your parents treated you.
You’re only broken out of your trance when an arm clad in red wraps around your shoulders and pulls you through the paddock. You’re not even aware of the yelling from a certain Mercedes drivers gets quieter and quieter as you’re brought into your driver’s room.
You’re being sat on a couch, and suddenly Charles Leclerc’s face is right in front of you, hands on your shoulders and eyes filled with concerned. “Y/n? Y/n, look at me, please, Y/n-” Your eyes dart to him and in an instant, everything from the past five minutes comes rushing through your head, and you can’t stop the tears that start to fall down your face.
“Oh, Y/n” The Ferrari driver moves to comfort you, but stops as you begin to cover your face and move away.
“No, Y/n, it’s okay, please, let me help you, Y/n” Charles wraps his arms around you in a hug as your body begins to shake with uncontrollable sobs.
“I can’t- I can’t do this anymore, Charles” You say in between breaths.
“I have to quit or something, I can’t keep doing this Charles, I can’t” You let your head fall on his shoulder, as the man tries to calm you down.
Charles’ heart is breaking as he comforts his friend; he remembers loving his first few years in Formula 1, how everything was so new and exciting to him, he could never not want to race, not then and not now. But to hear one of his closest friends breakdown because of how much she hates being there, makes the man’s heart shatter.
The door abruptly opens, and for a moment, all you can hear is the low angry cursing of Lewis Hamilton, until he sees you and Charles, and his face immediately softens.
“Love, I’m so sorry. That guy is a complete arsehole, don’t listen to him” The British man says as he takes a seat beside you and wraps an arm around your shoulders.
“I don’t know what to do anymore, I feel so stuck in this place where everyone is always talking about what happened and I don’t know how much longer I can go through it” You say, your voice breaking off with another sob.
Charles hushes you once more, exchanging a worried look with Lewis as you pull away from him again. “I’m sorry, I know I should be doing better and everything but I just can’t-” You say, voice shaky through the tears.
“Don’t for one second be sorry that you’re not competitive right now. Y/n, thousands of people are talking about the one thing that hurt you the most, and I understand why you feel this way, just please, love, for your own good, let us help you. I promise it will make you feel better” Lewis assures, grabbing your hand.
So for the first time, you do. For over an hour, you tell Charles and Lewis everything that happened when you were younger, and how the article has made you feel since then. They listen quietly, nodding once in a while to let you know they understand, and gave you a hug when you stopped talking.
“Do you feel better now?” Lewis asks.
“Yeah, not entirely, but better”
“Good, that’s all I wanted to hear,”
“Are you ready to go home now? There’s a plane waiting for us, if you want”
“Definitely. I need to go home” You say as Charles helps pack up all your things and Lewis makes sure there’s a car waiting for you two outside. As you’re all walking through the nearly-empty paddock, Charles turns to you.
“I have to go back to my garage, but please Y/n, if you ever need to talk, call me? I want to help you, I don’t want to see you like this again” The Monegasque brings you into a hug.
“I know, Charles, I will” You promise.
“Okay, I’ll see you before Vegas, yes? Feel better!” He calls as he moves backwards and further into the paddock.
“You promise?”
Lewis asks you hours later in the front of the airport in England, just about to get into separate cars.
“Yes, Lewis, I’ll call when I need” You say to the older man in a hug.
“Alright, text me when you’ve made it home and make sure you get some rest. Don’t be too hard on yourself either, you don’t give yourself enough credit for everything you do” You smile at him.
“Okay, I’ll see you before Vegas?”
“See you before Vegas!” He shouts from his already-closed car door.
When you do see the two next, they make sure you’ve made an appointment with a therapist and are setting up a meeting with your PR manager to put together a statement in regards to your well-being the past two months.
Charles and Lewis make sure the media inside the paddock is severely monitored and checked before being allowed near the drivers, and help you fall back into healthier habits.
These changes don’t happen overnight, and they don’t take affect overnight, but you do use the winter off season to make sure these changes are helpful and working.
The three month break is utilized to mentally and physically prepare yorself in time for your 2024 seat at Alpha Tauri that was re-confirmed after your P8 finishes in Las Vegas and Abu Dhabi.
The media still knows everything, and you haven’t completely forgotten your childhood, you never will, but dealing with it still gets easier.
#formula 1#reader insert#driver reader#f1 grid x reader#formula 1 driver imagines#platonic f1 grid#f1 2023 grid x y/n#f1 imagine#female driver reader#comfort fic#angst with a happy ending#angst#please look at trigger warning before you read#lewis hamilton#charles lecrelc#platonic lewis hamilton#platonic charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#lewis hamilton x reader
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Against Heaven and Hell~Yandere!Adam X Reader X Yandere!Lucifer
Hello, everybody! Welcome back to my Hazbin Hotel hyperfixation! Today I bring you a Yandere! Adam vs Yandere! Lucifer story. I think this one turned out alright but let me know what you think. As always, enjoy and have a great day/night!
Words: 1972
Warnings: Swearing, Adam being Adam, Car Crash, Contract Signing, Kidnapping
I bit my lip as I looked at myself in the full length mirror. The girls and I were going out tonight and I wanted to look my best. It had been a few months since we’d seen each other after all. I smoothed out my black and red plaid pants and fluffed my black dress shirt. Deciding I was presentable enough I walked to my kitchen. I grabbed my keys off the counter, put on my black bomber jacket and black boots, and walked out my apartment door. I locked the door behind me and continued my way to the elevator. Hitting the button for the first floor, I found myself tapping my foot as I waited.
Ding!
The doors opened and I walked out. I headed to the parking garage to the left of my apartment building and walked up the few flights of stairs to my car. Since I was the designated driver I made sure a few days before my vehicle was nice and tidy. I put on some tunes as I drove down several blocks before arriving near the center of the city. I parked on a side street and pulled out my phone, texting Ashley that I was ready for them. I scrolled through social media for a few minutes when there was a tap on my window. I looked up and saw Ashley, Shiloh and Tiffany standing there. I unlocked the doors and they all got in. “Hey, girl! Long time no see!” Ashley, sitting in the passenger seat, gave me a tight hug.
“It’s nice to see all of you too. Gosh, it feels like it’s been forever.”
“It really has. But no time is like the present as they say!” Tiffany piped up from the back seat.
We all nodded in agreement. “So, where should we go?”
“How about Tito’s? I heard they have a $3 special going on tonight.” Shiloh said.
“Tito’s it is then.”
With that I started the car and drove further into the city. We arrived at Tito’s around 7 pm and after parking the car, walked inside. The bar was quite busy that night with many couples sharing tables and others taking to the dance floor as a live band played. The four of us took to a booth across from the bar and ordered our drinks. The girls had gotten some classics like a gin and tonic, old fashioned and Manhattan while I just had my favorite soda. I was the designated driver after all. We sat and chatted for hours, and it soon was 10 pm and my friends were wasted. I struggled to carry all of them to the car as they giggled drunkenly, grasping onto me tightly. “Oh my god, Y/n! You’re so cute, you know that?” Shiloh said, giggling slightly.
“Yeah, yeah.”
I had to lean Tiffany and Shiloh against the back door as I struggled to put Ashley in. “Stop, Y/n! That tickles! Stop!”
I grunted as I managed to get her in with her seat belt on. Quickly I rounded to the back of the car and started to get Shiloh in. Tiffany slid to the ground and started to laugh uncontrollably. This was going to be a rough night.
It took about 15 minutes but I had finally gotten everybody in the car. I drove everybody back to Ashley’s apartment and started to unload them into the hallway. “Y/n, please stay. We can like have a big sleepover!” Ashley slurred.
“Sorry, honey. I’ve got work in the morning. But I’m sure Tiffany and Shiloh wouldn’t mind your company.”
I leaned down to the “Welcome” mat by Ashley’s door and grabbed the spare key. Unlocking the door, I dragged in all three girls. I placed Ashley on her armchair and Shiloh and Tiffany on the couch. Once I made sure they were all cozy, I snuck out before they could grab onto me. I made sure to replace the key under the mat before I walked back to my car.
The drive home was a bit chaotic. There were lots of people on the streets wandering around due to it being a Friday night and night life was hopping. I was placed out of my thoughts as my light turned green. I was in the middle of the intersection when suddenly my car was struck on the side by a much larger vehicle. I tried to regain control of the wheel as my stomach clenched, however, the car began to flip. I couldn’t even get a scream out as another car came and smashed into the front of mine. I could feel the car being slid across the road before slamming into a building. My head flew forwards and smacked into the wheel before flying back. My vision was doubling as I heard faint screams from the street. Just as my eyes began to close, I could have sworn I saw golden wings descending from the sky.
Before I even opened my eyes, I could feel warmth around me. It didn’t feel like a blanket or anything more like the Sun beaming down upon me. I slowly opened my eyes only to be blinded by bright light. Everything seemed to be overly saturated as I looked around and the gentle humming of violins filled the air. I sat up with a groan and held my head, a slight dull pain hitting it. What happened?
Suddenly, a set of double white doors flew open and revealed a tall, large man in a white, gold and purple robe, a demon looking mask on his face with black horns scraping behind his head. Beside him a smaller female with a black and white devilish mask, gray dress and white and black wings stood. “Ah good, you’re finally awake, babe.”
“Who are you?”
“Adam, first man. Autographs are extra, sweetheart. And this is Lute, my assistant.”
I just stared at him. What in the world? “Um, I hate to ask, but where am I?”
“You’re in Heaven, toots!”
“H-Heaven? You mean like Heaven and Hell Heaven?”
Adam’s yellow eyes rolled. “Duh! What other Heaven do you know of?”
My hands touched my chest and then my face. If I’m here does that mean-
“You’re not dead if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Then how’d I get here? I thought only dead people saw the Pearly Gates?”
Adam’s smile grew wide and the sight of fangs alarmed me. “I may have pulled a few strings to get you here. Please hold the applause. You can thank me later.”
“Um, okay.”
“I’ll give you a few minutes to collect yourself, but don’t keep me waiting for too long.”
He snapped his fingers and the two left. When the doors closed, I took a few moments to breathe. What exactly happened? All I could remember was driving back home from Ashley’s apartment, getting into a huge car crash and golden wings descending from the sky. Could that have been Adam? But then did he know I was going to get into a wreck? Could angels predict that sort of stuff?
I shook my head and stood up from the bed I was on. Looking down I was in a light blue medical gown and my feet were bare. Was I in a hospital back on Earth? “You almost ready in there, babe? It’s been a while.”
“C-coming.”
“Not without me I hope.”
I stopped before the door. Did he say what I think he said? Whatever.
I opened it and stepped out. “Finally. Now come on, toots. Let the first man show you around!”
Before I could say anything, he slung a tight arm around my shoulders, and we walked off.
Heaven wasn’t quite what I expected. It was almost like the city I lived in just without what would be considered sin. Every angel smiled and waved as the three of us walked by and it was almost sickening how happy everybody was. “So how do you like Heaven, babe? Does it surpass your expectations?”
“I guess. I wasn’t really expecting to be here. How did I get here again?”
“That doesn’t matter. The important thing is that we’re together! Especially now that you’ve got a real man in your life!”
“Sir, you said you’d hold off on that information.”
“Oh what’s the big deal, Lute? Toots will be stuck here anyway.”
I stopped walking and the two turned to look at me. “Stuck here? What are you talking about? You said I wasn’t dead.”
“Not yet. But as soon as my favor goes through then you’re all mine, sweetheart.”
“F-favor? Are you going to kill me?!”
“Eh, sacrifices need to be made. But I can assure you my dick is good.” He winked.
“Get away from me!”
I bolted as fast as I could. “Lute, grab her!”
I could hear the flapping of wings as I continued to run. Just as I was rounding a corner, I could feel myself falling. It wasn’t fast but more like floating back to Earth. The light around me dissipated into a grayness and I felt myself land softly.
My eyes flickered open and it took me a few minutes to realize I was in a hospital room. I sat up quickly and looked around frantically. I couldn’t see any angels around, so I leaned back in bed. A knock sounded at the wooden door and in walked a short man with blonde hair. He had on a white dress shirt and red tie, white pants and black boots. He stopped by the side of my bed and a pleased smile graced his lips. “Thank goodness you’re alright. I thought you’d never wake up. You were in a coma for a few days.”
“You are?”
“Oh, forgive me, where are my manners? Dr Morningstar at your service. You were in quite the accident, little lady.”
“What happened?”
“From what we were told it was quite the fatal car crash. I’m not sure how it happened, but it seems like Heaven willed it to occur.”
He grit his teeth when he mentioned the glorious upstairs. Odd.
He went back to smiling at me and I couldn’t tell if it was the lighting, but his eyes appeared red. “The most important thing is we get you better. I’m sure your husband is worried about you.”
“Oh, I’m not married.”
“I see.”
His gaze dropped to my hand and I became uncomfortable with how long it lingered there. “Well, I’d better let you rest. I’ll be back later to check up on you.”
He bowed and exited the room, closing the door behind him. What is with today?
Over the next few weeks Dr Morningstar helped me recover. My friends came and visited a couple of times which was nice. I was told I could go home at any time soon. It was late one night when Dr Morningstar came into my room. “Alrighty then Y/n, I have your discharge papers right here.”
He handed me a stack of paperwork. “I just need you to sign the bottom.”
“Of course.”
I did as he said when suddenly the lights started to flicker. The room slightly shook as Dr Morningstar suddenly summoned a cane with an apple on top. “W-what’s going on?”
“You my dear, just signed your soul to me.”
“W-what?!”
“I didn’t want to trick you like this I promise, but it needed to be done. Adam was getting too close to you.”
How could he know about Adam?
“The douchebag spilled everything to me, trying to make me jealous I guess. But sad to say, you’re now mine.”
He walked closer and I attempted to run but was met with a whack to the head. “Sweet dreams, darling.”
My eyes couldn’t quite process the six wings and horns that my doctor gained as they closed.
Everything faded to black.
#yandere#xreader#yandere x reader#x reader#yanderexreader#villain x reader#yandere adam#yandere lucifer#yandere hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel lute#lucifer morningstar x reader#hazbin hotel adam x reader#lucifer magne#lucifer magne x reader#hazbin lucifer
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Our Sun Is Setting
TW: mentions of homophobia and grief for a parent. It's quite a heavy fic, please keep that in mind.
"I told my Mami about you today."
You didn't think it was possible for a relatively normal, short sentence over the phone to make you feel sick to the pit of your stomach, but it did.
"Oh." That was all you managed.
Your mind was in overdrive as you stood in the middle of the grocery store, buying ingredients for the dinner you were preparing for later that evening when Alexia was going to come over. Any other person would have reacted better, wouldn't have been frozen to the tiles of the shop in the middle of the breakfast aisle, wouldn't have been on the brink of a panic attack from a simple statement.
"She was very happy. And she would like to meet you soon, whenever you like."
Another punch to the gut.
"She also teased me for talking about you so much. I couldn't stop myself." Alexia paired her words with a shy laugh.
The sound of it grounded you slightly as you moved out of the way of an old couple walking in your direction, but your head was still being insistently ruthless as you wandered mindlessly through the rest of the shop. Alexia was still talking over the line, seemingly not noticing your silence, but you couldn't work out what she was saying due to the unbearable ringing in your ears.
You were in shock.
"Are you still there?"
"Y-yeah, sorry. I think the signal went a bit weird, I didn't catch much of what you said." You reply in a shaking voice.
On the other side of the phone, Alexia frowns ever so slightly - she can almost sense something is wrong, but she can't quite figure out what or why. She hopes that when she sees you later, you are perhaps feeling better or if not, at least she's there for you.
"Okay cariño, would it be better if I left you to your shop?" She suggests, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel of her car where she was parked outside of the training complex before an afternoon training session.
"Yeah, probably. Sorry, I'll see you later."
And with that, you hung up.
As you went to slide your phone into your pocket with your shaking hands, you missed, causing it to clatter heavily against the tiles. It earned a few stares from the people around you, only intensifying the jittery dread that surged through you. Pins and needles encapsulated your body as you crouched down to pick up your now-smashed phone, but currently that was the last thing on your mind.
Alexia's statements circled relentlessly around your head - to literally anybody else in the world, hearing those words from someone they had were seeing would be enamouring and seen as a key, heart-warming milestone. But to you, it opened up a dark spot in your mind that you had shunned to the side for some amount of time. It seemed now was the right moment for that unidentifiable problem to break free from its shackles and make itself known, and you were terrified of what those repercussions would be.
You carried out the rest of your shop on autopilot, shoving a handful of notes into the cashier's hand before rushing out without a clue of how much you just gave them. For all you know, you could have massively overpaid them or robbed them in broad daylight. You were so out of touch with the world right now.
So much so, that you were unlocking the door to your apartment before you realised. How long did it take you to get home? Did your phone still work? What time is it? Did you walk, get a taxi, catch the bus, how did you get here? What did you even buy at the shop? Why won't this fucking door open-
A neighbour walked past hastily as you barged a shoulder against the door and almost crashed through it as it finally opened. You sent them an apologetic smile, though there was no doubt in your mind it was more of a manic and unnerving look than anything else, before slamming it shut behind you. The icing on the cake to this whole thing was the fact that the bottom of your shopping bag split open, scattering your groceries across the floor of the entryway. At least now you could see what you had bought.
Whether your legs failed you and buckled or you put yourself on the ground, you kneeled on the floor and gathered everything into your arms to transport it to the kitchen. It was a struggle, your trembling arms barely having the strength to hold themselves up, but you managed to dump your belongings on the kitchen side. Once you'd done that, you rested heavily against the counter, desperately trying to replenish the oxygen that had been stolen from your lungs some point along the way to this moment here.
What the fuck do you do now?
You turned to lean back against the counter and slowly slid down to the ground until you were sat on the floor, head back against the cupboard. There were too many conflicting thoughts and emotions rushing through you that all you could do was sit and stare. Feeling nothing but everything at the same time, thinking nothing but everything all at once.
Seeing Alexia tonight might tip you over the edge. You hope it doesn't end that way. You hope that her presence eases you. You hope she saves you from falling, sinking, spiralling into an irrevocable state of mind, whether she recognises that she's doing it or not. You hope, hope, hope.
Time seems to be a temporary concept for today, because before you've even had the chance to start preparing dinner for tonight, Alexia is at your door. Her voice calls out from behind it, asking if you're in there and if you're okay, because you've zoned out again. You're on the sofa, your cross-body purse still hanging off your shoulder, your jacket still zipped up to your chin, your shoes still on. Your groceries are still strewn on the kitchen counter, and the torn bag is still in the entry way.
"Amor, are you in there? Let me in." Alexia calls out, her voice tainted with concern.
"Sorry, sorry, I'm coming!" You jump up, kick your shoes off, throw your bag onto the small dining table, and open the door. She visibly deflates at the sight of you, her tense shoulders dropping, but her face contorts at your attire.
"Why do you have your chaqueta on?" She asks, and you're beyond grateful to hear it's said in an amused tone.
"Bit cold s'all. Come in." You're not cold. You live in Barcelona, and it's the middle of the spring.
You step to the side and she walks in with a tiny smile on her face. She's glad to be here, you realise. She seems to be in a light and happy mood, carrying no extra stress or other burdens, and, rather selfishly, you're glad.
"How was training?"
You plaster a smile on your face as she takes her shoes off and drops her bag beside them, turning to you and opening her arms. You walk into them with no hesitation, but the feeling isn't as relieving as you desired it to be.
"It was good. I did a amazing free-kick, I will show you the video." Alexia beams, and that does warm your heart somewhat. Her passion for her work, her career, her life, was forever an invigorating thing to witness. It's a shame you weren't in the right mood to appreciate it.
"That's great, Ale." You smile genuinely up at her, more than happy to return the soft kiss she offers.
It momentarily calms and heals a small part of you you'd been hoping she would subconsciously fix, but it wasn't enough and you recognised that straight away. You'd get on your knees, beg, and pray to any higher power that would listen to you just so you'd feel okay for one more day. Except, who do you pray to when you don't believe in God?
"What's that?" She points to the white plastic bag from earlier.
"Oh, the bag for the groceries ripped as soon as I walked in. Must have forgotten to pick it up." You shrug it off, wishing for her attention to be elsewhere for the time being. "I haven't started dinner yet, sorry."
"That's okay." She smiles, shrugging a shoulder nonchalantly and kissing your cheek. "How was your day?"
Tough question.
"It was alright, haven't done much." You brush it off, taking her hand and leading her to the kitchen... where the whole area was still a state.
"Oh, what happened here?" Alexia frowns.
If it was just a few items, she wouldn't be so puzzled, but when a good portion of the food left out was fridge and freezer food? Strange.
"I... I, when the bag ripped before, a jar smashed by the door and, uh... I took a while cleaning it and forgot to put the rest of the stuff away." You ramble unusually quickly. It was a blatant lie, but she didn't need to know that.
Except, Alexia was an incredibly attentive person, and she knew straight away that something was amiss. The first sign was that, in her intelligent mind, she knew that theoretically if a jar filled were to smash by the front door, the white bag from earlier would have been covered in its contents - but that wasn't the case. The second sign: whenever you cleaned your apartment, you used a very strong smelling citrus scented spray - she often complained about it and nagged you to get one that smelt nicer. Your apartment didn't smell uncomfortably citrusy right now. Funny observation, sure, but these two pieces of seemingly inconspicuous evidence gave away the fact you weren't right. Oh, and your strange behaviour showcased on the phone earlier and a few moments ago didn't help your case either.
But, she chose not to pressure you about it yet. She wanted to wait until you perhaps opened up to her some point this evening. However, that didn't entirely stop her from speaking up.
"Ven aquí, amor." Alexia demands calmly, reaching a hand out to you. Suppressing a sigh, you take it, and she looks down at you with a pressing stare. "Answer me honestly. Are you okay?"
No.
"Yes, I'm okay. I'm fine, Ale, I am." You try to reassure her, squeezing her hand and smiling up at her.
"You promise?" Alexia raises her eyebrows and offers her pinky for you to seal your, rather untruthful, truth. "It's okay if something isn't right."
Pinky promises, as childish as they may come across to some, were never to be broken. Since the start of your relationship, they had been a thing that had been utilised by the both of you to ensure you are telling the truth. Alexia had broken one of her promises she had made to you before in the past, so why couldn't you do one in return? It's only fair, right? Relationships were meant to be equal after all.
"Promise." You smile again and raise your other hand to lock fingers with her. She smiles, though you can see she's not convinced, but nevertheless she kisses your knuckle.
"Can I help you cook?"
"I'm meant to be cooking for you. And you are a bit of a control freak in the kitchen." You tease, desperately trying to steer the night away from the morose direction it could go down, and instead towards the light-hearted, content way you so needed.
"I think I am just a control freak in general." She smirks at you before turning to put away the disregarded shopping. You would also happily accept that direction too, you supposed. "Venga, I am so hungry, I skipped lunch at training for a meeting and now I regret it."
To your relief, you both make peaceful conversation once you've told her what you planned on cooking, and it's so peacefully domestic as you do your individual tasks beside each other. Every so often, Alexia will joke and bump her hip into yours as you giggle, and this version of your girlfriend is exactly what you needed. For a moment, you feel the cloud over your head slither away, until the topic you wanted to avoid came up.
"So, what do you think of me telling my Mami about us? You never gave me a response on call earlier."
You freeze momentarily, Alexia thankfully not noticing from the corner of her eye. With a subtle clearing of your throat, you continue cutting up the chilli peppers on the board in front of you, but your now shaking hands pose as a slight kitchen hazard considering the sharp knife you were wielding.
"I, yeah, it's nice. Nice that you, um... did that." You stutter out anxiously, nausea settling cruelly in the pit of your stomach. Alexia takes in your reaction and laughs under her breath, turning briefly to leave a kiss on your forehead.
"No need to be nervous, amor. We have been together for many months now, it was due to happen soon. And M-"
"Ow- fuck!" You gasp sharply, dropping the knife immediately and cradling your hand as blood began dripping from the middle joint of your index finger.
"Woah, amor, what happened?" Alexia winces at the sight, grabbing a few squares of kitchen paper and pressing it against your cut.
"I- my hand slipped and I obviously cut myself." You grimace, eyes tightly shut to rid yourself of the sight. "It burns too, fuck."
Alexia knew you didn't handle blood too well, so she turned you away from the scene and wrapped one arm around your back, rubbing up and down comfortingly whilst she still applied pressure to the cut.
"It's okay, it's okay, it hurts more because of the chilli. Take some breaths, vale?" You nod hastily, not really realising your cheeks had puffed out as you held your breath. Alexia watches your face closely, eyes still closed as you took deep breaths to calm yourself. "You're doing good, bebita. Keep doing that, so good. Let's relax a bit, hm? We should sit down in case you get lightheaded."
The last sentence is her thinking out loud as she started guiding you towards one of the chairs at the dining table. Resting one elbow on the table whilst Alexia continued to hold your wounded hand, you lay your forehead against your uninjured hand as Alexia crouched beside you. Your joined hands lay in your lap as you calmed down, or at least tried to.
To Alexia, it would appear that you were just mentally recovering from the shock of the incident. But actually, you were trying to dispel the unsuspected horror that filled you to the brim at Alexia's earlier reminder.
I told my Mami about you today. She wants to meet you.
That line inevitably meant you had to tell your family too. Except, you couldn't. There was no way you would, no way you could, not without facing realities you had pressed down far into unreachable and forgettable depths of your mind. It was all too much, it was simply not a possibility for you. You knew what it would lead to, and you weren't ready for that.
For the past months you'd been with Alexia and the time you spent getting to know her before that, you had mostly lived in a bubble that dissociated you from the broken, cracked, ruined, utterly destroyed parts of your brain. It had been perfect so far, and you'd be fucking damned to leave that bubble now. But perhaps it was too late and the damage had been done long before Alexia said what she said earlier, maybe that darkness just needed a catalyst before it submerged you in its wake.
"Amor? Hey, come back." One of Alexia's hands lightly patted your cheek to bring you back into the room. "You scared me there. Your breathing got really bad and you were in a... a weird daze. I was talking but you weren't reacting or anything. Are you back now?"
You nodded wordlessly at her, still not entirely taking in what she was saying.
"The blood... freaked me out." You rasp breathlessly, shaking your head a little to rid the glaze over your vision.
"That's okay. Do you feel a little dizzy? I can get you something to help that. Clear your head maybe." You nod again, and she gently lets go of your hand. Cold shivers immediately burst through at the lost contact, but you had to get over yourself and get used to it.
Cautiously, you take the tissue off of your hand and inspect the damage. It doesn't seem deep enough for stitches, which instantly fills you with relief. If you weren't already in a state of intense dismay already, a trip to the hospital would cause a hurricane of emotions that left a lasting imprint on everything and everyone around.
"Here, some apple juice. To get your blood sugar back." Alexia places a mug of apple juice in front of you and notices your now bare hand. "Oof, amor, that looks painful. I'm not sure if that may need a doct-"
"No! No doctors, no hospital. It doesn't need stitches, it's fine." You rush out, eyes wide in what Alexia guesses is fear as you look down at where she's crouched again. "Please, no hospital. It just needs to be cleaned and wrapped up."
"Okay, if you are sure." Alexia replies, nudging the cup closer to you. "Drink that and I will get the first aid kit."
You do as she says, drinking the half-empty cup of apple juice whilst she searches through the kitchen for the green box of medical supplies. Her eyes hardly leave your slumped form at the table, filled with worry for you. Things weren't adding up now, it was obvious, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could ignore it.
A part of her feels afraid to push you; emotionally she wants the best for you and if subtly, or not so subtly, urging you to do that works then she'll do it, but intellectually she senses a deep, internalised issue that could rip through you if handled incorrectly. It's not up to her to cause that. So she asks a question that's so layered it flattens all remaining atmosphere in the room.
"Cariño, how do you feel now?" She pretends to busy herself with organising the already packed box of medical necessities you kept.
"Better." Phyiscally true, but mentally wrong.
"Why don't we order something for dinner instead?"
As if you weren't filled with disconcertion already, that suggestion signs, seals, and stamps the envelope set to be sent to the fucking psyche ward for your admission. Were you so inadequate now that you couldn't even cook a simple meal? Apparently so.
"O-Okay."
Alexia frowns and comes back over with alcohol wipes, antiseptic cream, and a box of plasters, placing her items on the table and gently tapping your chin to get you to look up at her.
"I love you, you know that?"
The words fell from her lips before she could stop them. Alexia maybe wasn't the most emotionally helpful person ever but she sure did try. She thought her saying that would comfort at least a small part of you, but she couldn't be more wrong. It planted the seed of an unforgivable idea in your head.
The realisation of what you had to do poured over you like cold water, washing away every ounce of the little remaining hope and positivity you had. A feeling akin to mourning settled in your heart, accompanied by the debilitating weight of this twisted entity in your mind seeping into your bones. Your body strained under the heaviness of it all, unable to capacitate for the burden of living life like this, only confirming that the thing you must do was your only solution. Your lower lip quivered as the thought consumed you, the devil in your head chanting it over and over and over and o-
"I do know." Your lips tug into a smile but your throat bobs to conceal the sobs bubbling at the surface. "I know that. I love you too."
For the remaining time you had with her, you would make sure she knew that too.
"Let's get you cleaned up, hm?"
It's silent between you both as she delicately cleans the wound before applying cream and wrapping it up in bandages. It's silent as she leads you to the sofa, silent as she ordered your meal for you from one of the common takeaways you always got together. It's silent as you wait for it to come. It's less silent when Alexia turns on Netflix and opts for a new TV show for you both to watch together. It's still fairly silent even as you sit beside her, back stiff and straight beside the woman whose heart you were soon to break.
Alexia has never loathed quietness more than she does right now. It was an occurrence she valued at any other point in her life; watching football, reading, studying a game, relaxing in a post-match bath, going on a solitary walk to gain some peace of mind. But here, in this moment beside you, her skin crawls at the unbearable stillness of the room. Sure, she did enjoy silence with you too, but it felt like the unavoidable elephant in the room was stomping on her heart with every beat of her heart. There was a hidden agenda in the belly of the beast attacking her, and for some reason it felt like she was running out of time to put out the fire.
Her spiralling was interrupted when the buzzer of your apartment rang through the room, letting you know there was someone outside of the apartment complex without a fob to enter the building. Alexia reluctantly gets up from the sofa to let them in and hovers by the door to wait for the delivery driver to find your flat. She keeps her eyes on you, subtly watching you attentively, but even if she stood face-to-face with you, noses touching and breaths mingling, you wouldn't have a clue she was there. Your senses were incredibly warped and you were so far detached from reality, it felt like you and Alexia were two worlds apart.
What's at stake right now is something that's much bigger than the both of you. The dynamic around you may as well have a 'fragile: handle with care' sticker slapped on it, except, even that wouldn't have stopped the hands of the puppets controlling the world from acting so cruelly. You'd taken constant blows for quite some time now with no respite. Just as you started to recover from one punch, another would come to hit you square in the face.
"Hey." Alexia lightly knocks on your forehead with her knuckle. Every concerned glance from the woman in front of you felt like a jab at your body, slowly working you down until you gave in. "You are here, but you are not here."
You blink gormlessly up at her, your shoulders lifting in a careless shrug before you took back control of your mind.
"Food's here?" You force a smile, taking the paper bag from her hand and walking on shaking legs to the kitchen. You get plates and cutlery out, dishing up your meals before joining Alexia back on the couch, the taller woman now the one seemingly stuck in her head. "Ale, your meal."
"Ah, thank you." She leans in to quickly kiss your cheek when you sit beside her again.
The blonde woman has one more trick up her sleeve to try and bring you out of your shell, and it's one she hardly ever played.
Immediately, she begins to babble on about her day and her teammates and her family and whatever new antics Mapi and the youngsters had got up to, going abnormally overboard with the amount of anecdotes she was spewing out. Everybody knew Alexia was not a talkative person, and she only ever acted like this when she was in a rare giddy mood. And that really was rare.
The Alexia on display so far tonight was not in a giddy mood. She was happy, of course she was, but factor in the concern she'd shown for you tonight and the giddiness she had not portrayed at all even recently, something was off. It threw you completely off-kilter, and it didn't take a genius to figure out why she was doing this.
"I'll tell my Dad about us tomorrow." You blurted out, interrupting another of her rambles. It's kind of the truth, not all of it, and it's not the biggest decision you've made for yourself tonight, but you owed her something at least for putting up with you.
"Que?" She frowns. Out of all things she'd expected you to say tonight, that wasn't one of them.
"You're talking a lot because you want to know why I'm acting weird. It's because I'm thinking about telling my Dad about us, I'm scared to do it but you told Eli so I'll tell my Dad." You explained, pushing your food around your plate as Alexia processes your words for a moment.
"You don't have to do that if you don't want to. I don't mind, I know things haven't been... haven't been great between you both since your Mu-"
"Okay, but he's still my Dad." You cut her off again. You're not in the mood to discuss what she was about to bring up.
"You don't owe him anything, amor. Sure, he's your Dad, but you said it yourself only a few weeks ago; he's an idiot. No one should treat their child the way he's treated you after they've just lost their Mami."
There. She said it anyway.
"Alexia, I know you're just trying to stick up for me, but please don't go there. This has nothing to do with my Mum." Another partial lie.
The subconscious, realistic part of you knows every issue you've had in the last two years has everything to do with... her. But right now, the impulsive side that has been at the forefront of your mind ever since it happened wants to blame everything on the world around you and not your flaws that you've ignored all this time. Anyone could see that your refusal to sit with your grief and just feel was your Achilles' heel.
"Okay. I'm sorry for mentioning it. But I am absolutely on your side, amor, I'm always on your side. So if you want to tell your Dad, tell him. If you want me there next to you or if you want me out of the country whilst you do it, then I'll do it. I will do whatever you want me to." Alexia tells you, her voice pleading as earnest swirled around the eyes that bore down into you.
Well, you thought, that's good to know.
"Thank you." You smile ever so slightly, dropping your fork and placing a hand on her leg. You squeeze her knee three times, one more chance for her to understand the love you held for her.
"De nada, amor. Now eat up, please."
The pair of you spent the rest of the evening delicately dancing around the untamed elephant from earlier whose patience was wearing thin at the prospect of going entirely avoided for the night. Conversation topics were kept light, finally giving you a brief reprieve from the onslaught of your mind, and Alexia kept her arms tight as they wrapped around you. It was as if with each breath you let out or with each twitch of your body, she held on tighter and tighter, every hint of movement from you a reminder of your presence and how much she ineffably adored you.
Yet, the sun began to set, indicating that it was almost time for Alexia to leave for the night. She had to get up early tomorrow whilst you had the day off, and initially Alexia always agreed that when this was the case, you should sleep separately so that you could rest. However, as she collected her bag and slipped on her shoes, she kept her movements purposely slow to delay her departure. The last thing she wanted to do was leave you alone.
"Are you sure you will be okay tonight?" Alexia sighs, a reluctant hand on the door handle.
"I'll be okay." You answer simply, hesitating for a moment to decide on your goodbye gesture, before settling for a lone kiss on the cheek.
"Call me, immediately, if that changes. If you wake up in the night and need me, I will be straight here. If you call me in the middle of training, I will be straight here. Please. Don't suffer on your own."
Oh Alexia. If only you weren't so late.
"Everything will be okay, Ale." You tell her, desperately trying to disguise the emotion threatening to break through. "Te veo pronto, sí?"
"Sí. I love you." Alexia smiles, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, then opening the door.
"I know." Is all you can say now to that declaration. And fuck, if Alexia hadn't felt so uneasy in her life after that.
Somehow, you managed to sleep that night. Maybe it was your body allowing you to build up all the strength you need for the day ahead, because your life was about to be irreversibly changed. And the worst was yet to come.
"Hi Dad." You murmur quietly from your place in the corner of your sofa, legs tucked underneath you as you pitifully hold onto a cushion for comfort.
"Well, it's been a while since I've heard from you." The man on the other side of the phone chuckles spitefully. "Remembered who I was again?"
"Hm. How have you been?" The best way to deal with such a man was to ignore his behaviour, in the hopes he dropped the act when you didn't give a reaction. Perhaps you underestimated him.
"That's a loaded question, you know that. It's all everyone asks nowadays and I'm fucking sick of it." He grumbled, and for the first time in a while it sounded like his anger wasn't directed at you.
"I do know that." You stated.
"So why ask then? Still as dense as ever, I see."
Okay, well, clearly you judged him too soon.
"I just wanted to see how you were doing." You mumble insecurely, a frown settling on your face as you try to hold back the emotions you knew would spill out sooner rather than later.
"Don't lie to me." He snapped through gritted teeth. "You couldn't give a shit about me if your life depended on it. Be honest and tell me what you want, I have better things to do than talk to you."
"I... I have a girlfriend, Dad. Here in Barcelona, I've met someone." You reveal with a hint of a smile on your face.
All morning, you'd been in over your head on whether to tell him about Alexia. Part of you thought it was futile since you had already decided on your future with her, or rather, the lack thereof. But the naïve and childish part of you painfully thought he could be happy. That wasn't a concept this man had understood as of late, so it was a wonder why you'd thought he'd be happy for you. Especially given his latest behaviour, and his long-standing opinion on your sexuality. If only your Mother was here.
"Wow. Because I couldn't give you the life you want after your Mum left-" he could never say the true reason for her absence out loud, "-you look for it elsewhere? What did I tell you about doing that? A home can't be a person, kiddo, you need to stop looking for that. Your Mother wasn't home, I'm not home, this new 'girlfriend' isn't home, a person cannot be a fucking home! You're just desperate to fill in the love that's absent in the death of your Mother. Get a fucking grip of yourself and get over it, this 'girlfriend' business. You know your Mum would never have stood for this."
Silence.
Of all the words in the world, across all languages and cultures, over all periods of time, there was only one description to be used of how you felt right now. In your little flat in the heart of Barcelona, cowering in the corner of the couch, you felt suffocated. Any semblance of clarity, peace, hope, love - suffocated, by the words of your father, by the events that had changed you for the worse throughout your life, by the burden of simply just living.
Except, the words 'living' and 'simply' could never be used in the same sentence, because that wasn't a possibility. Every aspect of human nature wasn't simple, that's the beauty in it. The thousands of tiny mechanical functions in your body that allow you to breathe, the hundreds of muscles exerting themselves daily for one small step, the twitches and spasms of nerve endings to feel just a little alive. And despite it only requiring thirteen miniscule muscles to smile compared to forty-seven to frown, the latter felt so much easier. The weight of a smile had never seemed so damning, so suffocating.
The promise of life was a unique one, that's common knowledge and yes, life is beautiful, but any glorification of the struggle of living was inefficacious, nothing could extinguish the flame of the fire inside of your mind that was already uncontrollably burning through your self-preservation. No promise of light one day shining in your world again was worth it; you were merely a shadow of the people you loved.
"Okay Dad." You choke out. Even uttering one word was such a fucking exhausting challenge. "I... I planned on breaking up with her anyway. I think I want to come home."
You expected the feeling of verbalising your plans to be freeing, but the gravity of what you were going to do grounded you so humbly it almost almost stopped your heart entirely.
"Wow, I mean, if I had known that you would listen to my opinion and follow my advice so quick, I would have given it more often." He laughed maliciously, his way of celebrating your fall from grace.
"Can I come home?" You can't stop yourself in time from asking that question in such a begging tone. Another victory for him.
"I don't think that's a good idea, sweetheart. If you're that desperate, maybe stay with your grandparents. Perhaps they'll want you." He sighed as he said it as if he was in a rush, acting like speaking to his daughter was such a chore. "Listen kiddo, you done now? I've gotta go."
"Yep, I'm done. Can I see you if I come home?" The question was paired with a hasty swipe away of tears as if the man hundreds of miles away could see them.
"Oh honey. You fascinate me. You're at danger of almost being interesting now, you know that?" He laughed once more at his own words before hanging up.
Silence again. Such a plaguing thing.
The weight of the conversation you just had collapsed down on you, a whirlwind of emotions surging through you as a result of it. Each beat of your heart served as a reminder of every word spat at you from the man you once thought held all the love you had to give, the thump against your chest echoing his disappointment and distaste for you. A daughter's love for their father was undoubtedly one of the most dangerous things to themselves, proving that point yourself as you mentally scrambled to find a way to mend the fractured bond, yet each time coming up empty, feeling powerless and minute in the face of your father's disappointment. Every response from that man carved deep wounds of guilt and regret into every crevice of your mind.
Behind a facade of stoicism, a torrent of emotions fulminated throughout your body - a spiteful mix of every insecurity, every doubt, every shattered dream, it all coming together to form the final piece of the puzzle that was needed to make the decision to break out of your life. There was no other choice.
Outwardly, there wasn't a hint of such breakage shown anywhere on your body. And that's how it had to be, that's how you had to be. Completely numb to it all until you had escaped this turmoil.
By 2pm, everything was different.
Flight booked. Every suitcase you owned bursting at the seams, waiting by the door. Apartment tenancy ripped up. Your resignation handed in to your work. Every bit of furniture, every little trinket, all of it ready to be left behind. Despite it all, the most heartbreaking symbol of your new start, was the cardboard box of Alexia's belongings sat in the passenger seat of your car as you drove, waiting to be dropped off discreetly outside her door.
Your life was the perfect image to sum up how quick things can change. Twenty-four hours ago, you were walking to the local supermarket to pick up the stuff to make a perfect meal for you and your girlfriend to eat and have a quiet, relaxed evening together. Now? You were driving to said girlfriend's apartment, equipped with the words to tear your lives apart.
Oh, how things change.
In the blink of an eye, you were parked up outside her apartment building. You had the key to her apartment in your hand and the code to enter the complex memorised for one more use. You failed to notice her car parked in her usual space as you walked through the car park. The heaviness of the box was nothing compared to the heaviness in your chest of what you were about to do.
Ears ringing, eyes blurred with unshed tears, throat burning and constricted, your bones aching under the weight of purely just existing, all of it immensely overwhelming. But you were numb still. Numb and out of tune with your feelings, because you had to be. Otherwise, all of this couldn't happen. There was no way any of this would be possible if you just listened to what your heart wanted. No, that devil on your shoulder had gotten its way once again.
"Oh, what are you doing here?"
Fuck.
You had truly done it this time, because here Alexia was, standing in the doorway of her apartment as you froze at the sight of her.
"What are you doing here?" You ask frantically, desperately praying for her attention to be anywhere but the box of her stuff in your arms.
"Well, this is my apartment, amor. I just got back from training but I left my phone in my car." Alexia answers, an eyebrow raised down at you. Of course she'd catch on that something was wrong. She always did. It was one of the things you loved her for. "What's this? Are you a delivery driver now?"
She laughs to herself as she says it, taking the box from your arms and placing it on the floor. You're still stuck to the spot, eyes wide in fear at what she was about to find, and your heart thumps angrily against your chest in protest, trying to get you to react in some way. But it's too late. Alexia has already opened the box and began to read the letter in there before you could stop her.
The smile on her face immediately dissipates at the first line.
"To Ale, I'm sorry... what do you mean?" She asks, glancing up at you briefly before continuing to read it.
That's when your body finally decides to react. You slowly back away from the woman in front of you, but Alexia grabs your wrist tightly to stop you from running away.
"No, you will not leave my sight right now. Explain this fucking letter, what is going on?" Alexia attempts to sound commanding, but there's a certain glisten to her eyes and a lump in her throat. "What is going on? Tell me, now, please."
"I... I'm sorry, Alexia." You croak out, rushing to wipe the tears already falling with the sleeve of your sweater. "I am sorry, you have to know that."
"Sorry about what!?" Alexia shouts, then takes a deep breath to compose herself momentarily. "Come inside, sit down, and please can we talk?"
"Everything I have to say is in the letter, Alexia, I-"
"No, no it is not. This letter is hardly a whole page. You've come to my apartment with a box of my stuff and a letter that starts with the words 'I'm sorry', I'm not letting you leave." Alexia says, and you have no choice but to listen to her. However, she softens for a moment, and the lost look on her face tugs on every one of your heart strings. She takes one of your hands and squeezes it three times, resulting in another stream of tears from yourself. "Please. Whatever is going on, give us a chance to solve it. I need you to explain what's happened so I can help you, amor. Please."
You relent easily, forever at her mercy, and follow her into her apartment. She leaves the stacked box by the front door, completely unbothered by it - in fact, she doesn't ever want to look inside it if this conversation goes the way she thinks it'll go. She's kicking herself mentally, her mind already skimming over every interaction she's had with you recently, desperately trying to plot a point in time where your attitude had changed. It's easy for her to do so, the moment jumps out almost immediately. If only she hadn't been so scared, so cautious, maybe she could have solved this before it was too late.
"What do you want me to say, Ale?" You sigh exasperatedly as you sit on the edge of her sofa, eyes fixated on your fidgeting hands.
"What do I want you to say? Amor, I want you to be honest and explain why you're sorry, why you've come over with all my stuff, why you've written me this letter. It's all come out of nowhere, I have no idea what's going on and I just want you to clue me in. Yesterday we were laughing together and having a nice evening, and now you're... I don't even want to say it." Alexia laughs nervously as she speaks, her shoulder stuck up in a shrug as her hands gesture eratically.
"It's okay, I'll say it for you." Your false facade takes over, body armoured with a hard exterior. "I'm leaving, Ale. I'm leaving Barcelona, leaving Spain."
To hear you say those words were perhaps the greatest pain Alexia has ever felt in her life.
"Leaving... leaving me?" She whispers quietly, the question punctuated with a gulp as she swallows her emotions.
She sounds eerily similar to a young, innocent child who's just lost all they've ever known. It makes you wonder for a brief second if you're a sick individual for causing such pain, but you shun those thoughts away for a later date, because right now you need all the feigned courage you can muster up.
"Yes." The ease with which you say it sends shivers down her spine. It's the hardest sentence you've ever had to say, and it's just one word - once more an example of how life can never be conformed to simplicity.
"Why are you being so cold? This is not the woman I know." Alexia practically pleads, inching closer to you on the sofa. Her hands land on your knees, but you're too far in to back out now.
"I don't know who I am anymore, Alexia. I need time and space to figure my shit out, that's what is best for me right now and that's why I have to go." She scoffs in your face once you've finished, and that's the moment this conversation goes far more downhill you could have expected.
"What about me? What about what's best for me? You're leaving me behind!"
"Leaving you behind? You're acting like a sad dog that I've just abandoned in the middle of nowhere! You were perfectly fine in your life, your very successful and established life might I add, before I came along and you'll be better off without me!" You snap back. This is not the direction you thought this would go. "Why can't you accept the fact I need to leave?"
"Because I fucking love you! I love you and I don't want to live a life that doesn't have you in it! But maybe I should grow out of that opinion since it seems so easy for you to turn off your feelings for me, so easy for you to be so selfish at the flick of a switch."
"Selfish? I'm being selfish?" You repeat her words back to her with an outraged laughter that sounds all too familiar to you. Is this who you've turned into? "I'm being selfish for choosing what's best for me? I'm being selfish for wanting to take time on my own to figure my life out? I'm being selfish for wanting to take time to grieve my own, dead Mother?"
Alexia's face falls as soon as those words come out of your mouth. Never in her life had a sentence caused such a visceral reaction from her because it feels like someone's just plunged a dagger right into her heart. She'd been too panicked, too focused, on her own feelings to even wonder why you had made this decision. She had been the selfish one for jumping to conclusions and now her lethal arguments had completely tanked the conversation. The possibility that there was no coming back from her vicious assumptions instilled a deeper, darker fear in her than she had ever felt in her life.
"No, no, I didn't-" She begins to dig herself out of the hole she finds herself in, but you're in no mood to entertain her begging.
"Good one. Really funny, that." You stand up and go to walk away, but not without one last attempt from Alexia to stop you.
"I didn't mean that, I swear, I am just so confused and scared and-"
"Do you not think I'm scared too? This will be the second time I've uprooted my life and regretted everything I have ever done. I'm terrified to leave, terrified to find out what's waiting for me at home, terrified to figure maybe this is all I am and that there's no better side of myself to find." Your voice trembles with a mix of fear and fury. "I've realised that throughout our whole relationship, from the moment I stepped into this country, I've been someone that I'm not. Losing my Mum was losing the biggest part of myself, and everything I've done from then 'til now has just been a poor attempt at filling in the hole in my heart-"
"S-so, what, you're saying our relationship was fake?" Alexia splutters out. You pause at her words, completely caught off-guard by her utterly stupid and inept fight back.
"That's what you caught from all that?" You ask, dumbfounded. "Right. Because it's always about you, Alexia, isn't it? This whole conversation has just been you talking about yourself. Have you even properly heard what I've said? Have you read more than the first line of my letter?" The guilty look on her face says it all. "That's what I thought."
"But I... I know what it's like to lose a parent, amor, I can help you!"
"Wow. For the sake of us both, don't go there, Alexia. Don't." You fix her a warning glare, shaking your arm out of the grasp of her hand.
"You can't leave. You can't, I won't let you. It's not right." She speaks sternly again now, a final plea for your relationship.
"Oh, fuck off Alexia. You have the emotional maturity of a teenage boy. I'm done with this now. Good luck at the World Cup this summer."
You walk out and slam her door shut without looking back.
Alexia's life had just taken a nosedive, because a breakup was absolutely not on her agenda for the day. The hand that had grabbed your arm earlier tingled with the stain of your touch and certain areas of the room were tainted by the lingering scent of your perfume. One conversation and you had vanished from her life - an excruciating result caused by her own incompetency to act like a decent human being.
For some time after you had left, she had been stuck rooted to her sofa, her mental temporarily ruined by the events of the day. A traumatic event had occurred, this was a natural reaction, to go into shock. To be so damaged by something that all she could do was sit and be consciously unconscious to the world around her until her body and mind could recover.
There was one phrase that ran circles around her mind. It isn't fair. What that defiance was directed at, she wasn't so sure yet. At first it had been you, but as the clouds cleared a little, it was obvious that it wasn't. Despite her words earlier and how accusing they came out, she didn't blame you. Not one bit. No, her anger was aimed at the so called 'fate' bullshit that everyone championed so often. How can people praise such a phenomenon when it had brought so much evil into people's lives? It felt like everything came at the price of something, and that's not fair.
For Alexia? It felt like her career came with the price of her Father. Everything she had done was because of him, and he couldn't even be here to see it. No, because fate or destiny or whatever other nickname it had, had taken that opportunity away from her. It isn't fair. For you? If anyone asked you, in the future when you're in your rocking chair, a knitted blanket draped over you and the waves of the ocean lapping away in front of your eyes, you'd say that in this period of time you had gained the world for the price of your soul. This dichotomy of good and evil sometimes felt like it wasn't worth the fight because in cases like this, it just wasn't fair.
The realisation of it all left a sour taste in Alexia's mouth. But something seemed to snap in her, some higher power finally giving her a backbone, and she sprung into action. You didn't deserve any of the stuff that had happened to you, and she sure as hell wasn't going to be another name on that list. One of her worst fears, a view shared by all of humanity, was to remember someone she loved in such a gut-wrenchingly awful way that it tarnished her entire memory of them. That's something she couldn't do with you. If you were to end this, it had to be on good terms.
So, she grabbed her keys and headed down to her car, where her phone still was. Alexia was a determined woman; when she put her mind to something, she got it done. This would be no different.
Call after call, after call, after call, came through on your phone from the one woman you probably least expected. There was only so long you could hold her off because, after all, you were once in a relationship with the woman, meaning you got a front row seat to her persistance.
"Hi, uh, Alexia. What do you want?" You say when you answer, finally.
"We have to talk more." Alexia rushes out quickly, for lack of better words and composure.
"I don't know if I want that after what happened earlier." You state in a defensive tone. But secretly, you craved nothing more.
"I know, and I am so so sorry for all that. It was so selfish and awful of me, I regretted every word that came out of my mouth the second I said it. I just... can we talk again? Please?" She begs, her hand fidgeting against the steering wheel of her car as tears silently rolled down her cheeks. "I would hate myself if I didn't at least try for this, amor, let me try."
"The decision is final, Ale, you can't change it. I'm sorry. You said yesterday that you would do whatever I wanted you to do. Well, this is what I need you to do, Alexia. I need you to let me go."
"Okay." Alexia squeezes her eyes shut, tears spilling out the corners, and her clenched fist comes to rest against her forehead. "Can I see you one more time? So I can properly apologise? I have no other intentions than that, I promise. I just... I can't remember you that way. I can't remember us in the way we left it. It doesn't give us as people any respect and it does not do justice to the beauty of our relationship."
That was the tipping point for you. There's the woman you love.
"Okay." You smile and sit up in your bed where you previously lay in a cocoon of your own pity. "How about we meet on neutral grounds this time?"
"Let's do that." Alexia responds, and you can hear the smile in her voice.
Some time later, you found yourself walking along the promenade of the beach, looking for where Alexia said she was seated on one of the benches. It was a chilly evening with no help from the sea, so you had your hands tucked into your coat pockets and your chin hidden under the zip of your coat. Alexia had spotted you long ago, a content smile on her face at the all too familiar sight of you and your distaste for the cold. You recognise her soon after, taking a deep breath before approaching her.
"Hi." You mumble, muffled by your jacket and the wind whipping around you. Alexia hears it of course.
"Hi. Sit down, please?" Alexia taps her hand on the wooden slats of the bench beside her, and you quickly follow suit. "I, uh... got you this."
She hands over a takeaway cup of hot chocolate. Your favourite.
"Thank you. Something to keep my hands warm." You say, happy to see her laugh quietly and nod.
"Exactly why I got it."
The pair of you sit in silence for a while, encapsulated by the serenity of the sky and the elegance of the ocean. Strangely, you realise, the two things resemble you and Alexia. Two things of beauty that never quite meet, never quite mend, just a parallel that reflects each other. You can't tell if that's a horrifying allusion or a calming one.
"So, what's this then, a... a post-mortem of our relationship?" You joke, giggling when Alexia scrunches her nose at the suggestion.
"I mean... you could say that." She shudders as she says it, not quite at peace with the new revelation. She's not sure she ever will be.
"I have to go, Alexia. I... it's so hard leaving you behind. It's the hardest decision I've ever made, but it's one I have to make. I hope you know that."
"I do. I do know that. I want you to know I understand. I'll never be... content with it, but... it's a necessary evil." Alexia has her eyes cast down on her coffee cup, fiddling with the lid. You notice and take hold of one of her hands, intertwining your fingers perhaps for one final time.
"It is. I've got no energy to fight anymore. I need to sit with my emotions and all that shit," You pause as you sigh dramatically, making her laugh once more. "So that I can figure out who I am after all this. Doing that whilst in a relationship isn't fair on either of us. It'll only lead to something more soul destroying, no matter how hard this conversation is."
"I know." Alexia purses her lips and nods, finding the strength to look at you. A genuine smile breaks out onto her face. "I had a feeling something was wrong a little while ago. I guess I'm just... angry. That I can't solve it."
"I'm angry that I can't solve it." You repeat, a sad smile on your face. "There's just a lot wrong with me, I think. And I can't burden you with it all. I have a lot of baggage I drag along and there's an awful lot of cracks in my mind-"
"There's cracks in everything, amor, that's how the light shines in."
You had half a mind to berate her for interrupting you again, but you find yourself at a loss for words. Why were you leaving this woman again?
"I'll value you forever, Ale. Nothing could make me change that, even if we left things at what happened before. You're the most astounding person I've ever met, and even when I'm breaking your heart, you still treat me better than anyone else. If we forget what happened at your apartment." You tease, the both of you chuckling lightly.
"It's hard to hate you when you're breaking my heart so gently." Alexia states. "I'll always love you. It's probably not the right thing to say but it's the truth."
"No, I... I'll always love you too." You respond, absolutely certain. Despite the predicament you both find yourselves in, Alexia finds every bit of relief and closure she could ever need in that one simple sentence.
"When do you... when do you leave?" She asks with a sniffle.
"I fly out later tonight." You answer quietly.
"Will you come back one day?" It's the one thing she knows she probably shouldn't say, but she can't resist. She has to know.
"I don't know, to be honest." She turns away and nods slowly. You squeeze her hands three times.
"If you do, will you let me know?"
You can't promise her that, and she knows it.
"I will." You smile softly up at her.
You both fall into silence once more. This one feels a little less suffocating than those of the past. There's still so much more to say, but as your head falls to rest on Alexia's shoulder and you both look out at the view that had been the background of your relationship, neither of you can name a reason to interrupt the peace that's settled. It's perhaps more peace than either of you had felt in a long time.
The thing is, about the ocean and the sky, is that they do meet. They're one and the same in their own essence, and in the distance, they do eventually meet. And the sun will rise again. Two inevitable occurrences that form at the hands of a little thing called fate. Or destiny. Or whatever it is.
#alexia putellas x reader#woso x reader#woso#alexia putellas#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas one shot#woso community#woso imagine
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GrievingSukuna! HEADCANONS
Summary: You passed away from an incurable illness that plagued you almost your entire life, and even as his favorite concubine, his most cherished, hell his only one left since he had disposed of the rest. The one thing he liked, that her genuinely cherished was now withering away in his arms.
⚠Warning⚠ Minors dni, mentions of death, Sadness, idk what else to put.
GrievingSukuna! Who has never once said "I love you" to anyone not even you. The thought of those words ever leaving his lips made him want to gag except right those words meant everything.
GrievingSukuna! Who listened to your frail voice reassure him that your time spent with him was a joyous one, and that your were just another concubine, that he shouldn't mourn the life of someone who was merely brought to his temple over a year ago for his enjoyment alone.
GrievingSukuna! Who silenced you with the most tender, loving, heart stopping kiss to ever grace your soft yet dry lips as he just could not bare to hear another word. You chipped away of his walls, held his cold heart in your warm hand, and yet you had the nerve to utter nonsense? You had become his pride, the air he breathes, almost his wife, and possibly the barrer of his supposed heir.
GrievingSukuna! Who listened to you final goodbye to him after one last kiss to which he finally spoke those three words...
"Oh, Lord Ryomen, Serving you was..was the best thing that life could have ever given me. Every moment I spent serving you.. I spent without regret, my only regret now is being too weak to serve you any longer. What kind of concubine am I? Heh, forgive me..please forgive me, I- I-..."
You had spent all your energy speaking this blasphemy to him. If he could he would have scolded you right then and there, but there was no time that. All he could was catch your fallen hand that reached for him in an attempt to hold him one more time. You didn't have enough energy left to finish your sentence yet he finished it for you in those last moments he uttered for the first and final time.
"I Love You, (Y/N)... You foolish woman."
He said it, he finally said it, those words from him you would carry into the afterlife with you, A tear fell from your beautiful (E/C) eyes. But these words were only meant for your ears, not even his servant that stood outside his chambers could hear him whispering those three words into your delicate ears.
GrievingSukuna! Who's world came crashing down once your chest rose and fell taking your last breath. Oh the heinous things he would do, the sacrifices he would make, the blood he would give to just hear your sweet voice once more. This hurt him, this pain.. It petrified him, it was like no pain he had ever felt before.
GrievingSukuna! Who after hours of holding your cold corpse, finally allowed his servents to come in and ready you for burial. His face was unreadable to them, but on the inside he was ready to explode with rage, he was ready to curse the heavens and hell for taking what was his away.
GrievingSukuna! Who stayed locked away in his chambers for the next few days leading up to your burial. Oh how you wounded him worse than any man or woman ever could. This wound wasn't something he could just easily no, no, this wound would forever be etched into his mind, body, and soul for as long as he lived.
GrievingSukuna! Who's face remained unreadable during the ceremony, you had no family to join him, just his loyal servents who had grew quite fond of you once upon a time.
GrievingSukuna! Who quickly storm away once your casket was lowered into the ground, he felt his eyes were burning... What was this? Tears!? Never in the beginning of time would Sukuna ever shed a pathetic tear, but he heart could not deny the human emotions that came with once being human. He wouldn't dare let anyone see such an ugly sight, him experiencing sadness.
GrievingSukuna! Who's sadness was quickly replaced with pure, unadulterated rage, every village in 100...No a thousand mile radius was fucked. If he couldn't have the one thing he cherished more than anything in the world then why should everyone else?
GrievingSukuna! Who would go days without returning to his temple until he's had his fill of bloodshed, maybe this was his new found way of coping with the loss of his concubine?
GrievingSukuna! After days of slaughter he would return home to your grave absolutely drenched from head to toe in the blood of the innocent and lay at your grave.
GrievingSukuna! Who would stay at you grave for hours, cursing you to the heavens for leaving him in disarray, for not ripping his heart out his chest to take with you so he wouldn't have to FEEL this pain any longer.
GrievingSukuna! Who would soon slaughter all that were loyal to him as he would rather live in solitude, then to be reminded that he has no one to share the servitude of his people with. Sukuna would rather be alone than to enjoy the finer things without you by his side.
#jujutsu kaisen#jujustsu kaisen x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x you#sukuna fluff#jjk fanfic#jjk drabbles#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#sukuna angst
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Just One More
WARNING: Overstimulation, crying reader, language, fingering
“No, no, no, no!”
There you are, 4 orgasms in and writhing wildly in Bucky’s arms as he continues to rub circles around your clit. You’re trembling with tears streaming down your face while you desperately try to get away from the torturous manipulation of his hands. All he could do was smile as he keeps the cold, heavy metal of his left arm tight around you middle.
He kept pulling you back into his chest when you couldn’t help but buck your hips and gasps for breath, “Bucky… please… no more, I can’t-”. He puts two fingers in your abused opening,
“Yes, you can,” he says sternly, mouth pressed to your ear. The bass in his voice vibrates the wires in your brain. He’s all you crave.
He lets out a deep breath when he slides a third finger into your hole. You were helpless and at his mercy. Your hands are trapped behind your back, between your torsos with a red Christmas ribbon he found. Your legs were trapped between his so when you tried to close them, he just had to spread his wider. There was absolutely nothing you could do to stop him from playing with your sensitive pussy.
“Ohhh, I’m not done yet, Baby. Not yet.” He pulled his fingers out and went back to the same speed on your clit.
“Oh my god, Sir… fuck, please, don’t stop,” you moan loudly, trashing in his grip when the tight coil in your abdomen comes undone. Wave after wave of pleasure crashing through you. You’re full on sobbing in blissful agony before going tractable in his arms. All your body could do was tremble from head to toe when he pressed his nose into your slick neck and finally slips his fingers out of you. He loosens his hold on your torso, allowing your legs to close a bit to give you a well deserved moment. You go to close them more when he cups his hand possessively around your pussy. He’s still not done.
You start to cry again; the combination of the tears and your whining making you sound so pathetic and helpless. He just eats it up.
“Noooo… Bucky, please, no more… stop, I- I can’t… please, no…”
“Shhh. You’re doing so well for me,” he says, pressing his lips against your temple. “What do you say to get me to stop?”
He laid a light tap to your swollen petals, “tell, y/n. Stay with me.”
“Brooklyn,” you said in the faintest whisper.
“Why?”
“It’s where we met…FUCK!”
He doesn’t wait another moment before slipping two fingers back inside your sopping pussy, making you cry out when they graze your ultra sensitive walls.
“James-FUCKKK!,” You drag out as you sit your head up to watch his attack on you,
“You want me to stop? Say it and I’ll stop.” He knew you wouldn’t and he reveled at the fact that he had complete control over you. The fact that he didn’t reprimand you for using his legal name meant that he was having way too much fun in this torture session to even care.
“No! Please don’t stop…” His fingers reached the spot that undoes it all and your eyes roll back as you place your head back on him, completely quiet.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Bucky watches, mesmerized that it’s him who’s making you cum like this.
You whimper in his arms, gulping in large breaths that pass right by his ear from where my head is resting on his shoulder. Your entire body is trembling. Your sweaty skin sliding along his own when you try to wiggle away from his touch.
You stay like that for a moment before he presses another kiss to your temple. By this time, your eyes are closed and you’re starting to come down. Your breathing stables until you feel a heavy, icy sensation start to travel back to your overused cunt.
“You’ve been such a good girl for me. I know you can give me another, Baby.”
seen this before? tumblr deleted my other account so i have to rebuild :/
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x black!reader#winter soldier#captain america#steve rogers#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x reader
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Hey, if you hadn't already done something like this, I was wondering if you'll write Eddie x Popular!Henderson!R, where they're sneaking around behind Dustin's back.... 1. Because Dustin looks up to him and they're friends and 2. She's not ready to let everyone know just yet (wanting to live in ignorant bliss just a little while longer before she falls under scrutiny for falling for "the freak").
And so, when one of her friends decides to hook her up on a date, she can't exactly refuse, so she goes along with it to shut her up, without letting Eddie know, of course. And during a game of dnd, Dustin let's it slip where you are for the night, unknowingly sending Eddie into a spiral, thinking she's cheating and that's why she wants to keep them a secret and after having an internal battle, he cuts the campaign short, surprising everyone, and he crashes her date, with hellfire in toe, demanding answers. And then everyone finds out and she explains blah blah and they live happily ever after. Sorry, this was long xx
This was so fun! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
Dustin's friend
When Dustin said he found a new friend, that was yet again years older than him, Y/N wasn't too pleased. First, it was Steve, and now a guy named Eddie. But when Y/N met Eddie for the first time, she couldn't care less about the age gap between him and her brother, all that mattered was that he was around her age and single.
Eddie still wasn't sure how he managed to get Dustin's hot popular sister to go out with him. Whatever he did, he thanked god for it because having Y/N on his lap with her tongue down his throat was his heaven.
"Missed you so much," Y/N whined, her hips moving against Eddie's as she yanked off his shirt.
"Fuck, I missed you too." Eddie moaned as Y/N sucked down his chest. She left her marks to travel south until she was just above his boxers.
"MOM WANTS YOU," Dustin screamed as he pounded on Y/N's locked door.
"Damn it," Eddie sighed and hung his head.
"BE RIGHT THERE," Y/N screamed back, she sighed and stood up. She handed Eddie his shirt with a sad smile. "Sorry, Eds."
"Fuckers are giving me blue balls. Are you sure we can't tell him? Maybe he'd stop interrupting as much." Eddie glared towards the door. He stood up and threw on his jeans.
"You know I'm not ready for all of that yet." Y/N sighed.
"Fine, I'll go home and finish the old-fashioned way." Eddie joked, smirking as he walked backward to her window, his eyes on her.
"Maybe I'll come over and join you, later." She winked. She kissed Eddie goodbye and waited for him to leave. Then she went to see what her mom wanted.
~~~
Y/N knew hiding her relationship with Eddie was hard and tiring. And she felt guilty every time she had to act like Eddie wasn't everything to her. But she was scared. She was scared to take away Dustin's friend, worried she overstepped. She was terrified it would ruin their friendship because of the bro code. And selfishly, she was scared of the damage it would do to her social life.
"I'm telling you, he has been begging me for a date with you. You are single and have no reason to say no." Chrissy whined.
"My reason to say no is that I don't want to," Y/N said, rolling her eyes as she slammed her locker shut.
She whined when Chrissy followed.
"Like you have anything going on tomorrow night, anyway?" Chrissy argued, her eyes taunting.
Y/N technically had nothing going on tomorrow, Dustin and Eddie had hellfire so both boys were busy.
"Stop thinking of an excuse and just go. Then if you hate it, I will never set you up again." Chrissy promised.
"Deal," Now Y/N could get Chrissy off her back.
~~~
"We are kicking ass today! I wish Y/N were here to see it." Dustin cheered. Y/N had spent more time watching Hellfire since she had to pick Dustin up anyway.
"Why isn't she?" Eddie asked, he prayed it sounded casual. He read ahead on his notes to look like he didn't care too much.
"On a date." Dustin shrugged, playing his next move. No one had the table had any idea that sentence sent Eddie into a panic. Sweat on his forehead as his leg shook beneath the table.
His girlfriend was on a date, with another guy.
It all made sense, she wanted him to be a secret because she was seeing someone. Dustin knew about the guy, and he couldn't know about Eddie. Because then her secret would be exposed. Like it just was.
"Where?" Eddie snapped, his angry tone had the table looking at him in seconds.
"Enzo's," Dustin said confused.
"Get in the van," Eddie snapped as he grabbed his keys.
~
The rest of hellfire sat confused as Eddie raced to the restaurant. He was silent but gripped the wheel until his knuckles were white. The boys followed as Eddie stormed out of the van and into the restaurant.
Eddie felt a wave of heartache flood in his chest when he saw her with him with his own eyes. She looked beautiful as she talked about something he couldn't hear.
"Why are we here? Why do you care about my sister?" Dustin asked, but Eddie already was moving.
His heavy boots hit the floor hard, and his hand slammed on the table. The couple jumped and fear showed in Y/N's eyes when Eddie leaned down to her level.
Face to face, Eddie's hard breathing smacked Y/N's face. She twiddled her thumbs nervously as she saw hellfire behind him. Her brother watching with confusion.
"Eddie, what are you doing?" She said through clenched teeth, trying to keep the conversation between them.
"Demanding why the fuck my girlfriend is on a date with another guy." Eddie snapped, his eyes dark as he glared at her. She knew he had every right to be mad, but she didn't want a scene.
She stood up, and Eddie straightened up. His eyes haven't left her, not even glancing at the stranger across from her.
"Can I please explain later? In private." She whispered, her eyes looking over Eddie's shoulder as the boys watched.
"No, I'm tired of this private shit. Explain right here, right now. Or we are done." Eddie threatened. He didn't want to break up, he wished on every star above him there was a way to make this relationship work.
"Eddie please." She whispered, her watery eyes pleading for him to back off until they could talk. "Not right now in front of everyone." Eddie tried to ignore her tears, not letting himself get sucked into her guilt trap.
"Fine, forget it. I'll see you around, Henderson." Eddie said coldly as he nodded and backed off. Y/N felt frozen in her spot as Eddie went out the door.
"Y/N?" Dustin spoke up, his hand reaching towards her.
In seconds she was running out the door.
"What is going on?" the random date asked.
"Shh man," Mike said, sliding into the booth next to him. He pointed out the window, a clear view of the couple. The boys followed, all sitting in the big booth as they stared out the window.
~
"I'm sorry! I got scared but please." Y/N cried as she tugged on Eddie's arm.
"Scared because you got caught. I can't believe you could do this to me. What about all that love bullshit? This is what you do when you love someone?" Eddie argued, hot tears in his eyes.
"I do love you! Nothing between us is bullshit. Chrissy was on my back for weeks about going on a date with this guy! I never agreed until she said If I went on it, she'd never do it again! I promise you I was just trying to get her off my back. I was going to tell her I hated it and finally have peace of just being with you."
"You know what else brings peace? Finally admitting to other people that you are in love with me," Eddie said sadly, "I'm tired of being your secret. I can't keep doing it."
Y/N sobbed as she reached forward and held his face in her hands.
"I'm so sorry. I love you so much. I'll tell Dustin and everyone. Please just give me a chance to make this up to you." Y/N begged, Eddie sniffled as he looked into her eyes.
"I love you too," he smiled, and Y/N felt relief in her bones. "You took a chance on me, so I'll take the chance on you."
Y/N smiled and leaned forward, Eddie met her halfway and smashed his lips on hers. His hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer.
~
"Oh my god!" The boys all said at once, the random date was long gone.
"Eddie and my sister?"
"Dude! Eddie is banging your sister!" Mike teased
"Is he touching her ass?" Lucas gasped as he moved closer to the window
"Oh, that is so much tongue." Gareth chuckled.
"Our boy is making out with a popular girl!" Jeff cheered, high fives all around the table, except for Dustin who sat in a state of shock.
~
"YOU ARE SCREWING MY SISTER?"
Eddie and Y/N jumped as Dustin screamed.
"DUSTIN!" Y/N screamed as Dustin ran straight into Eddie and took him to the ground.
Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson request#eddie munson fluff x reader#eddie munson angst#eddie munson angst x reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x henderson!reader#eddie munson x popular!reader#ashwhowrites
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wildflower | z.cl
“you know you are my favourite fantasy”
💿now playing: wildflower by 5 seconds of summer
❯ summary: Chenle just has to make it through one more round of twister. Then, you and his friends can leave and he can take care of the boner growing in his pants from your limbs grazing over his crotch every turn. Yeah, that’s his plan. Just one more round.
❯ pairings: chenle x fem!reader
❯ genre: friends to lovers, smut
❯ words: 4.0k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, light petting, male masturbation, explicit descriptions of chenle's thoughts while he gets off, voyeurism, hand jobs, literally just horny chenle, reader uses she/her pronouns.
"Chenle, left foot, green," Jisung announces.
It's just a game of Twister, Chenle keeps reminding himself as the colourful spinner dictates his next move. So why is he feeling so flustered? He needs to get a grip. Like he said, it's just a fucking game for Christ’s sake, one that families play on holidays. There's no reason for him to be turned on right now, but he is.
"Dude, will you hurry up? I don’t think I can handle Jaemin's ass in my face much longer," Haechan grumbles from his awkward position on the board, head perched to the side to avoid eye contact with the back of Jaemin's jeans.
"Stop pretending you don’t love my ass."
Chenle feels no sympathy for Haechan; after all, this stupid game was his idea. He's the reason Chenle keeps having to conjure up the most unsexy thoughts imaginable to suppress the growing bulge in his pants.
It all started with a trip to the mall earlier in the day. Chenle had turned his back for just five minutes to go to the bathroom, and when he returned, he found his friends gathered around the ridiculous board game on the shelf.
"Come on, it'll be fun," Haechan insisted, while Jaemin practically bounced with excitement.
Chenle thought it was stupid; he's never been any good at Twister. But they all begged and pleaded to buy the game instead of sticking to the original movie night plans Chenle had organised for their traditional Friday night hangouts. And truthfully, Chenle had no intention of playing the game, let alone buying it. That is, until you stepped off the wall you were leaning against to join the conversation.
You strode over to pick up the box Haechan was clutching onto and inspected it. Chenle's gaze was fixed on your fingers as they tapped the package gently. It was surprising how everyone instantly fell silent from the shock of you wanting to get involved in their antics for a change.
"Come on, Lele, Haechan has a point. It does look fun," you encouraged.
Chenle's attention immediately shifted to your puppy-dog eyes, and he swore they were strong enough to break his willpower. Or maybe it was the way your lips protruded in a practised pout, staring up expectantly at him. Actually, now that he thinks about it, it was definitely the soft and eager "Please," that you uttered that had him heading straight to the counter with the box and his wallet.
That's what landed him here now. Stupid you and your stupid eyes and your even more stupidly cute smile.
“Chenle did you hear me?!” Jisung waves the spinner in front of his face, “Left foot, green.”
He snaps back to attention, finally shifting his left foot to a green circle.
“Fucking finally,” Haechan murmurs, “Sung, spin it for me.”
Jisung complies, giving Haechan his next instruction. Haechan begins to twist his body through the gap between Jaemin’s legs – he just needs to stretch a little more to reach the blue target in his vision. But then…
“Ow, what the fuck?!” Jaemin groans, his ass crashing down on the board from Haechan’s manoeuvring between his limbs.
“That was totally your fault! If you didn’t wriggle your body at the last second I wouldn’t have—”
"Nobody cares, Haechan. You're out. Off the board," Chenle grits through his teeth. He can't stand the arguing; it only prolongs the silly game for him, and he doesn’t want that – he doesn't need that. He just wants to get this all over with.
But as Haechan and Jaemin move away from the board he realises that won’t be so easy because you and him are the last two players standing. Chenle gulps, the realisation hitting him like a truck. He’s the only player left that you can tangle your limbs up with.
He doesn’t need this – this is what he’s been trying to avoid thinking about all night. You’ve only innocently brushed him this round, nothing overtly explicit. But just seeing you contort and arch alone was enough to trigger a twisted fantasy in his mind.
Chenle considers forfeiting. Sure, he's a little competitive, but he’d rather lose than pop a boner in front of all his friends while playing the old-school classic game of Twister. He also knows Haechan would complain, insisting that the winner was rigged and therefore there needs to be a rematch. Chenle does not need a rematch.
He just needs to focus. Keep his head in the game for a little while longer. Then, you and his friends can leave. Yeah, that’s the plan. He just needs to breathe.
Chenle composes himself, hastily waving his finger in Jisung’s direction. “It’s her spin.”
“Y/N, right-hand yellow.”
You’re already reclining, distributing your weight between a palm and a back foot. And you’re just as competitive, so when Jisung issues the instruction, you aim for the dot directly beneath Chenle but still behind him, manoeuvring beneath him for your hand to brush past his thigh before landing on the target.
Chenle almost stumbles at the slight touch, and it makes you raise an eyebrow. Was he ticklish or something?
“Y/N, that’s cheat–”
“Oh, so when she touches you, it’s cheating, but when Jaemin wiggles, I get told to get off the board,” Haechan complains. “I see how it is.”
“Be quiet, Haechan,” Jisung says, and Chenle is thankful for the intervention as he shushes the boy and flicks the spinner with his hand. “Left hand, red.”
Chenle looks down at the position you’re both in right now. So far, luck had been on his side as he was still on two feet, but you, you were on all fours and very close to him. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about looking down to see you pooled at his feet, looking up at him with pretty eyes, but he never imagined it like this.
The fact that this is all happening in front of his friends should be enough to kill his boner, but he’s still turned on. Not only was just the position of you on all fours tantalizing enough to begin with, but your last spin caused arms to cross over one another, pushing your breasts together.
Damn.
Chenle bites the bullet and goes for it, his body fully covering yours as he plants his right hand in front of him. In theory, his plan sounded like a good idea; if he places his right hand on the red dot behind you, he can just hover over you and then he won’t have to see you looking up at him with those pretty tits, he so desperately wants to fuck, on display.
But that was all in theory, because Chenle may have overlooked one massive fatal flaw. The new position places his crotch right in front of your face, and Chenle hadn’t even registered that until he could feel your hot breath against the fabric of his sweatpants.
This is not good.
Chenle can’t help but panic, he knows being like this, his clothed cock so close to your lips, he’s not gonna be able to hide his growing erection any longer. His cheeks flush, he doesn’t know how much more he can take, but he still tries to compose himself.
It’s just a game of twister.
“Y/N, right-hand green.”
Chenle thanks the heavens when he hears Jisung tell you to move your right hand because it’s that hand that’s already put him in this stupid predicament. You move to a red dot and it helps create some space between your lips and his groin. And Chenle thinks the Earth is finally on his side, because Jisung’s next instruction is for him.
“Left-hand blue.”
This seems perfect, he thinks. He can simply shift the hand that caused him to hover over you behind him. That should work. And it does, but only for a little while. Because on Jisung’s next instruction, you’re reaching over Chenle's shoulder with a hand, but your reach isn’t quite good enough, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can keep himself balanced on one arm.
Then it happens – you land on top of him, and the room fills with whoops and cheers as the game comes to an end. But Chenle can’t comprehend that because all he can think about is you, and how your body is pressed on his, tits crushing him and looking so delectable.
He sees you laughing, and God, how he adores your smile. He almost loves it as much as he loves how close you are to him, almost. You feel so warm, and he wants you to stay there forever, wrapped up in him as he... well, his thoughts suddenly take a more heated turn.
Damn, he’s getting hard.
No, fuck, he’s getting hard with you on top of him.
Without hesitation, Chenle brushes you off him and rises to his feet. He hastily adjusts his sweats to conceal his bulge, but nothing can disguise the sudden shift in his mood, which casts a frosty chill over the atmosphere.
“Dude, you good?” Mark asks.
“Yeah, I'm fine,” Chenle responds, his voice strained as he tries to sound casual.
The vibes in the room have turned awkward, suffocating almost. All he can think about is you, and he just wants this whole shit show to be over.
“Hey, why don't we call it a night?” he suggests, trying to mask the urgency in his tone. “I mean, it's getting late, and I'm sure we all have stuff to do tomorrow.”
You exchange glances with the others, sensing Chenle's unease, but you all agree to pack up and leave. As you gather your things and head towards the door, Chenle can't shake the image of you out of his mind. All he wants is to be alone, to explore the thoughts and desires that have been swirling in his head ever since the game started – he wants to deal with his boner.
Once you’re gone, Chenle lets out a sigh of relief, finally able to breathe again. But even with the apartment empty, his mind is still consumed by thoughts of you. He knows he needs to get a grip, but the memory of your touch, your laughter, lingers in the air, and he can't help but crave you.
He can’t control himself anymore, he just feels so needy. He sits down on the sofa, eyes fluttering shut as he thinks. He lets his tongue slip out from between his lips and one hand travels down his body, over his hoodie until he reaches the waistband of his sweatpants.
He can still feel the warmth of your breath there, and he’s harder than a rock, but this time there's no need to hide it. He wastes no time slipping inside the fabric to palm himself, his hands cool and rough. He savours the feeling of rubbing his long, thick length slowly with both hands, imagining it's your body taking him in, and filling you to the hilt.
You.
The girl he could never quite shake. The girl who Jisung had introduced to the group a couple of years ago. The girl who started hanging out with them more often, securing her invite to ‘boy’s night’ at his place. The girl who he’d found himself having the same interests as. The girl who was seconds ago brushing soft fingers over his body while playing Twister.
His friend.
His mouth parts and he thrust his cock up into his fisted hands. Precum lubes the tip of his head as he spreads it around with his thumb, gently rubbing the slick up and down himself. Needing more glide, he spits into his hand and rubs it down his length, coating his cock. He knows that when he finally gets to bury himself inside of you he won’t need spit, you’ll be fucking soaking for him, he’ll make sure of it.
He squeezes his eyes shut and groans. He needed this, badly. It had been a long night of your body bending, spinning and twisting – and fuck – remembering the way your back curved so delicately in the first round.
Not to mention you’d worn leggings that clung to your skin and a T-shirt that dipped low enough to flash everyone. Skimpy shit that you insisted were your ‘comfortable clothes’. He doesn’t believe that for a second – but he’s not complaining. They may have killed him when he was trying to hide his arousal, but now he’s glad he’s got a more accurate image for his thoughts.
Thoughts that include him wanting nothing more than to feel your body beneath his, sweating and used. Panting. Hair wild and a mess, as his fingers explore every inch of your flesh. He wants you wet enough that your arousal seeps over your thighs. He wants his cum dripping out your mouth, down your chin, and pooling on your tits.
He wants you filthy.
Fuck.
He palms himself up and down again, gritting his teeth and throwing his head back against the sofa.
He wants to bend you over, stretch you out. He wants to make you beg for him, writhe for him. Mould you to be his perfect little toy. If you could see him panting as he indulgently strokes himself to thoughts of you he’s sure you’d be flushed, embarrassed.
The image has him shuddering and thrusting his cock up into his hand again. And again. And again.
Fuck. What would you say if you knew? If you walked in and saw him?
You couldn’t blame him. Nobody forced you to insist on the game of Twister. Nobody forced you to trace your delicate little hands across his legs and arms and shoulders as you found the coloured circles. Nobody forced you to stumble on top of him, your grip holding his shoulders to find balance, immediately triggering his mind with thoughts of you riding him.
And fuck – nobody forced you to be that flexible.
His arms begin to ache at the punishing speed, but he couldn't stop. He wouldn’t stop. It felt too good. He hisses at the smooth glide over the sensitive underside of his head, head falling back again as he curses.
He knows you’d beg for it - just like he is.
“Fuck, Y/N…”
You and Haechan are making your way through Chenle’s building, en route to the parking lot. Haechan had insisted on you driving him home tonight, citing that "Ubers are too expensive in this economy." But as you both walk towards the car, your mind starts to wander.
Chenle's behaviour tonight was odd.
He never ends your Friday night hangouts early, and his sudden shift in demeanour was quite... uncharacteristic. Moreover, he's usually very competitive, yet there were numerous instances during the game where he could have easily nudged or jostled you, but he refrained. It was almost as if you were a hot stove, and he feared getting burned by touching you.
Was he coming down with a cold or something? Whatever it was you don’t like it, and you’re about to ask Haechan about it. However, as your hand reaches into your jacket pocket, you realize: shit, you left your car keys.
"Mind waiting here? I left my keys back there," you inform Haechan and he looks at you unimpressed.
He groans dramatically, “Y/N, it’s freezing out.”
"Relax, I'll be back in five minutes tops," you assure him.
"I knew I should've gone home with Jisung.”
You quirk an eyebrow, "What was that?"
"Nothing, just hurry up."
You return to Chenle’s building, taking the elevator up and walking down the halls. You hoped he hadn’t retired to bed if he was feeling unwell. Unfortunately, you can't even send him a quick text because your phone is with your keys.
You're slightly puzzled as you reach Chenle's door and find it open just a crack, unusual for him as he typically locks up immediately after everyone leaves. Concern creeps in — did something happen to him?
Anxiety triggers, and though you know you should knock and give him some warning that you're entering his apartment, your rational mind seems to switch off. And then it fogs because you just realised what you’ve just walked into.
Chenle’s head is thrown back with shut eyes, lips parted just a touch as he fists his cock. He groans, the motions causing a loud sloppy sound. His hand goes past the base of his cock and he grabs his balls, tugging at them with a whine.
He fucking whined.
You have to fight every urge not to gasp because the sight sends heat to the place between your legs, wetness pooling in your panties because he looks so hot, so unfiltered, raw and erotic. His face is so relaxed, his breath uneven, and you wonder what has got him so worked up. He looked like he was ready to kill moments ago.
“Fuck Y/N…”
What the fuck?
Chenle sounds like he’s on the brink of an orgasm…to your name. Were you hearing it correctly? If only you could see better, peer further into his apartment, and realize that you'd made this whole thing up, then you could relax – you could curse your mind for playing such a cruel hot joke on you.
So you do, you creek the door open and that’s when you see his abs begin to quiver and his eyebrows knit tighter together. It was visible that he was getting close and he let out an involuntary yell, hips bucking as his hand pumps harder.
Your thighs rub together, and your legs threaten to tremble from the sight. You'd never imagined yourself being so turned on from watching someone else get off, but here you are, and you don't think you've ever been more aroused.
And perhaps you’re a little too aroused because you don’t even realise that Chenle’s hand has stopped stroking because he’s staring straight at you, eyes wide looking like a deer in headlights. His cheeks are red and he’s awkwardly stuffing his very hard cock back into his sweats.
“Oh shit! Fuck! I’m sorry,” you stumble over your words as you turn around, giving him a little bit of privacy.
Chenle is at a loss for words. While he might have entertained the idea of you catching him, he never expected it to actually happen. And he certainly hadn't anticipated just how hot the glint of lust in your eyes as you watched him would be.
“No, it’s my fault…I should have locked the door.”
You’re still facing away from him, looking at his apartment walls when he stands to his feet and walks closer to you. You can feel the heat radiating off his body as he settles behind you. It’s a delicious warmth and if you weren’t just caught being a fucking perv, you would have let yourself bask in it.
“N-No, I should have knocked, I just came to get my keys, I’m so so sorry–”
“Y/N will you just look at me?”
He cuts you off and you feel him wrap a hand around your wrist. You wonder if it’s the same one that was wrapped around his cock and – fuck Y/N – now is not the time.
His gentle tug compels you to turn around and face him. You can't bring yourself to meet his eyes; instead, yours remain fixed on the floor. Still, you can feel the intensity of his gaze burning into your forehead.
"How long were you standing there?" His voice breaks the silence, prompting your mouth to open and close, resembling a fish for a moment as you process his question.
"I-I um, not long," you stammer out.
“Not long?” He raises an eyebrow, “Were you planning on standing there until I came or what?”
Your mouth goes dry as the realization dawns upon you because, yes, that's exactly what you were planning on doing. You wanted to witness what he looked like when he reached his climax, to see if he could possibly look any sexier than he already did as an orgasm washed over him.
“Lele—”
"You know," his finger reaches up to rest beneath your chin, trailing along your jawline until he has a firm grip, coaxing your eyes to meet his. "If you wanted to see me cum, the least you could have done was offer to help."
"W-what?" Your eyes widen in surprise.
"You heard me," he smirks confidently. "You gonna help me or what, Y/N?"
You bite your lip and nod, your hand dances along the hem of his sweats slipping inside to feel the length of his cock. It twitches in your grasp, and it doesn’t surprise you since he looked so close to his peak only seconds ago.
Chenle sucks in a breath, he’s thought about this moment plenty, and today specifically, he’s been so pent up about it. He focuses on the feeling of your touch, slow but effective as you tease him. And Chenle swears he almost drools at the sight of you collecting his precum and licking it off your thumb – it’s so filthy – just as he fantasised.
The sounds coming from his mouth are heavenly and sinful all the same, echoing in your ears. Your hand hovers over his length again, only starting to stroke when he bucks his hips. The rutting of his hips forces you to quicken the pace and his breath is all but shallow gasps.
Chenle can’t help the way his abdomen tenses, and his eyes find themselves falling on your low-cut top that had earlier been teasing him with your tits as you contorted your body for a stupid board game. Chenle thinks the view paired with your vigorous stroking might be enough for him to blow his load in his pants.
He's whining. He needs it. He’s chasing it.
He spasms as you continue frantically fucking him with your fist. He meets your touches grunting and cursing with every thrust. He bites down hard on his lips when you grab his balls cupping and pulling and squeezing until you know his high is ready to hit him like a steam train.
Chenle’s body tenses, thrusting his cock as hard as he can manage. His stomach contracts as stars cloud his mind and he moans out your name. His body has never been hit by this much blinding bliss before – especially not from just a hand job. But still, his legs buckle and he has to steady himself on the wall behind him.
“Fuck Y/N! Just like that, gonna cum.”
Unashamed, his eyes roll back as cum shoots violently from his pulsing cock and all over your hand. His voice rings out clear and desperate with yells in the air. Long strings of hot cum coat your fingers, each rope eliciting another groan. Another clench. Another bliss.
You bite your lip, relishing the explicit sight of Chenle as he rides out his orgasm. Despite being soaked through with arousal yourself, your own pleasure takes a backseat; witnessing him in such a state – sweat glistening on his forehead, eyes glazed with ecstasy – is more than enough to satisfy you.
As you withdraw your hand from his sweats, you both gaze at the white substance coating your fingers. You're almost tempted to tease him with it, to watch him shiver as you lick it off your fingers, but that fantasy is abruptly cut short when the front door swings open.
“Seriously how hard can it be to find some damn keys—”
Haechan takes one glance at your glistening hand and the wet patch on Chenle’s pants and puts the pieces together. Then, he looks at you his eyes squeezing as he grimaces.
“If you left me in the freezing cold for fifteen minutes to give Chenle a fucking hand job, I'm going to kill both of you."
#nct smut#nct dream smut#chenle smut#nct x reader#nct dream x reader#chenle x reader#nct hard hours#kpop smut
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Surgery V
Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader
Summary: You lose your lion
"Come on, Cub!" Mapi calls from the door," We're leaving!"
There's the familiar pitter-patter of your feet as you come running out of your room. You don't come straight to the door though, you run past to check the sofa cushions, pulling them up and throwing them back down.
"Cub!" Mapi calls again," We're going to be late."
"My løve (lion)!" You cry, turning around so Mapi can see just how distressed you are," It's gone! Mami, løve's gone!"
"What do you mean your lion's gone? Where's he gone?"
"I don't know!" You tug at your hair.
Most of the time, Ingrid's the one that does your hair, tying it back in a braid out of your face so it doesn't get in the way of your playing. It's loose right now though because Ingrid had gotten up late and Mapi was the one to get you ready.
You pull at the loose strands and Mapi has to gently pry your hands away.
"Hey," She says," What have I said? We must be nice to our bodies. Don't pull on your hair, please."
"Løve!"
"Cub, I'm sorry but we have to get going."
"Mami," You whine," Løve! I want løve!"
"Cub-"
The door opens.
Ingrid was waiting in the car, completely exhausted from her late night out with Frido and Aitana. She's got a to-go coffee in her hands and she rubs her eyes.
"Mapi? What's taking so long?"
"Mama!" You cry, running over and crashing into her legs," My løve is gone!"
Ingrid picks you up easily, balancing you on her hip as she surveys the destruction of the apartment.
Your bedroom door is still open and Ingrid can see where you've torn it all up looking for your lion toy. The pillows and cushions on the sofa have also been flung around the living room with no regard as you desperately looked for your toy.
"I'm sorry, cub," Ingrid says," We really need to go. We can look for him later."
You go completely limp and boneless in Ingrid's arms, trying to get her to release you so you can go back to searching but she's got a tight grip and soon you're strapped into your car seat and Mami is driving you all to training.
That's when you regain your movement again, brutally kicking the back of Ingrid's seat as you scream and cry for your løve.
He's your extra special baby toy that you got when you were baby. He's your most favourite toy in the world because he's a little lion like you are. Even your wild hair matches his mane.
Mami doesn't let you take Bagheera to training so your løve is a nice substitute but you couldn't find him when you woke up this morning. You can't even remember if you went to sleep with him last night.
"Cub," Ingrid says sternly," If you kick my seat one more time then you're going on timeout when we get to training."
You want to kick the seat again to prove a point but Ingrid is the boss in and out of the house and you don't want her to be angry at you.
"Want my løve!" You cry instead.
Your hair is still loose so you keep tugging at it even though it makes the top of your head hurt a little bit. You want your lion and you don't know what else to do now that you can't kick Ingrid's seat.
"Hey," Mami says as she glances at you through the rearview mirror," Cub, stop that. You're not being very kind to your body right now. It looks like that's hurting."
"Don't care!" You shriek.
"Well, I care. You not being nice to your body is making me sad. It makes me very upset. Can you please be nice to yourself?"
"Want løve!"
"I know," Mami says," It's just a little longer to training. Do you think you can be nice to yourself until then?"
You stop pulling your hair as tears stream down your face.
You stop kicking Ingrid's seat and you stop being mean to your body but you don't stop crying. You can't stop crying, not without your løve and Mami and Ingrid holding you.
They can't hold you in the car even if they want to so you're left to cry and scream in the backseat as Mapi finally parks the car.
Both of them are out quickly and Ingrid's the one to finally lift you into her arms, Mapi gently rubbing your back as you sob.
"I lost my løve!" You cry.
"You didn't lose him," Mapi says," Don't worry. We'll find him. He'll be at home somewhere."
"Came back from seeing Tia Leila day before yesterday," You whimper," Coulda left løve on the plane!" The thought makes you sob harder. "Didn't mean to!"
"We'll find your løve," Ingrid assures you," You haven't lost him."
Mapi is frantic as she runs ahead, just to warn everyone of what mood you're in so no one teases you or pushes you too far.
She skids into the locker room, mouth already open to word vomit everything that happened that morning but the words get stuck in her throat.
She points to Aitana. More specifically, what Aitana has in her hand.
"Cub's lion!"
"Yeah," Aitana says," She left it behind yesterday. I was meant to give it to Ingrid when we met up last night but I forgot. Here."
"Aitana, you're a lifesaver. She's been in tears all morning looking for him."
The door swings open and, true to Mapi's word, your face is tear streaked as Ingrid walks you in.
"Cub, look! Aitana found your lion!"
"My løve!" You say, reaching for it and burying your face in his fur as soon as you've got him in your grip.
"Hey," Ingrid jostle you," Say thank you to Tana."
"Thank you for finding my løve, Aitana."
#woso x reader#mapi leon x reader#mapi leon#ingrid engen x reader#ingrid engen#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso
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Insanity
Pairing: Jaime Reyes x F!Reader
Summary: Your lack of sleep makes it seem like you're going insane, then again, your boyfriend has an alien inside of him...maybe insanity makes sense.
Warnings: reader has emotional distress, description of skin and flesh? mentions of sleep deprivation and male genitals, SPOILERS FOR BLUE BEETLE! there's also some light SMUT but it will be labeled by 🦋 so you can skip if you want and must be 18+ to read!
Word Count: 2.3k
A/N: Second part? Umm hell yeah! I gotta go see this movie again cause I wanna see Jaime wink wink. Thank you for all of those who reblogged the last part! If the smut confuses you, be aware that I'm a whore and my page mainly consists of smut. Please make sure you're 18+ when reading and enjoy! 💕💕💕
I don't consent to my work being copied, reposted, or translated.
“Where could he have possibly gone?!” you ran your fingers over your hair, tears streaming down your face as Miliagro tried to comfort you. “What the hell was that thing?” you shook your head, dumbfounded.
You had been standing, staring up at the hole in the ceiling for the last few minutes, completely dumbfounded that your boyfriend was somewhere up there. You were in hysterics compared to the rest of the family.
“Amá is calling the police, I’m sure we’ll find him,” she rubbed your shoulder, tears streaming down her face too.
A few moments later, your heart rate spiked up the moment a loud crash was heard in the dining room, the already collapsed table now housing your fainted boyfriend who was completely naked.
“Oh my god,” you gasped, hand over your mouth as you ran over to aid him but he awoke abruptly, incoherent words escaping his lips. About to stop him from moving to prevent any injury, you felt your face heat up when he stood up.
“His huevitos!” Rudy shouted, the rest of the family’s breaths hitching before Rocio and Nana started reminiscing about Jaime’s childhood.
You stepped forward, trying to give Jaime some concealment but he pushed passed you, entirely dazed until he crashed on the couch.
“Ten, tapaló,” Rocio handed you a blanket and you quickly covered him. That’s when you all realized what was on his back.
“That is the grossest thing I’ve ever seen,” Millie gagged beside you and you frowned at the sight of the bug fused into his back.
~
You sat at Jaime’s head on the couch, Nana waving the vapor rub in front of his nose. You combed your fingers through his hair, the smell, and your touch slowly coaxing him awake.
His eyes opened, body jolting in shock to see all of you sitting around him. “Where?” his brows were furrowed and he stared down at himself, realization growing on him and being confirmed by a peek under the blanket. “Oh god,” he gaped, shooting up from the couch and keeping the blanket wrapped around him.
“Jaime, wait,” everyone called out, following him but he shrugged everyone off, going into his room.
“Follow him and tell him,” Millie pushed you forward and you got the message as you managed to slide into his room before he slammed the door shut.
“Jaime,” you called out, a smile forming on your face when you saw his bare ass, unable to help yourself. “You need to know something,” you wrung your fingers together, staring at the glowing blue fusion on his back.
“Hang on, Y/N, I can explain everything. It’s all fine, this is all normal,” he struggled to put clothes on, mainly muttering to himself. “It’s all good,” he laughed, shirt in his hand as he walked over to you, a humorless laugh escaping him as he grabbed your shoulders. “I missed you,” he inhaled before leaning in and kissing you.
You were taken aback by the sudden gesture, but welcomed it nonetheless when you recalled how worried you’ve been about him.
“Jaime,” you said when he pulled away, licking your lips as you opened your mouth to continue. “Look in the mirror,” you exhaled just as he pulled his shirt over his head.
He paused, doing as you said, his eyes widening when he got a look before a scream left his mouth.
“Just breathe, okay?” you hurried towards him before he panicked even more. “We’re gonna find a way to fix this, okay?” you grabbed his shoulders and he seemed to calm down a bit before you engulfed him in a hug.
“We’re gonna fix it,” he repeated, arms slowly wrapping around you. “I need to find Jenny”.
~
“That’s Cesar to you!” Rudy shouted at Jenny after she became the reason the Taco was ruined.
You were all sat around the table after Jaime had driven off to go find Jenny to explain everything. You weren’t too pleased he left so suddenly, worry still raking through you from the day’s earlier event. You kept your anger under wraps, thankful to Rudy for laying it on them.
A few moments later after hearing Rudy cry about the damage done to his truck, he came back in, fury still bubbling in his words.
“I can’t believe you did that to my truck, after everything,” he cried. “This is all your fault,” he pointed at Jenny. “First, you put a bug inside my nephew and now my truck?!” he screamed, shaking his head.
“Wait, what’s he talking about?” Jenny darted her gaze around the table and Jaime sighed.
“He means this,” he said, turning around and pulling his shirt over his head so she could see the blue and purple bug glowing along his spine, his flesh pink in the areas it fused to the creature.
“Oh my god,” the family shouted, Milagro gaging at the sight. You on the other hand had grown a quick immunity to the sight, your face straight as you stared at it.
“I’ve seen worse,” you and Rudy said at the same time and you shared a glance for a second before Millie butted in.
“Where?” she furrowed her brows.
“You don’t want to know,” you said at the same time again, your gaze narrowing at him.
“What the hell is this thing?” Jaime pulled his shirt back down, leaning over the table between you and Jenny.
“It’s a scarab, given to my dad when I was a kid. It’s some type of world-destroying weapon,” she shrugged, the sight of defeat written across her face aware that this news was not one taken well by the family.
“Great,” Jaime inhaled deeply, hands running through his hair as he walked into the kitchen.
“So did you know this was going to happen when you handed it to my brother?” Millie asked, shooting daggers at Jenny.
“No! I swear I didn’t. The scarab isn’t activated by any person, it chooses you,” Jenny elaborated. “So that means it chose you,” she turned to Jaime, a look of disbelief on his face.
You were sitting silently beside everyone, arms crossed over your chest as you took in the information you were given. Emotions trickled through you, you were sure you’d experienced all of them at least once today, but hearing the words come out of her mouth, you couldn’t help but crack your stoic face and double over in laughter.
“That is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard, you’re joking,” you managed between laughs, the family sparing glances at each other and Jaime placed a hand on your shoulder to check on you.
“Ignore her, she hasn’t slept since yesterday. Night shift,” Millie excused you.
“Are you sure she didn’t get the alien inside her? Seems like she’s going insane,” Rudy butted in, twirling his finger by his temple to say “cookoo”.
“Ay, Rudy,” Rocio waved him off. “As you can see she’s a little out of it from the lack of sleep”.
At her statement, the laughing stopped and you straightened up, composing yourself with a clearing of your throat.
“I’m not out of it,” you defended. You were sure you slept a good hour this morning. “I’m just finding it a little hard to believe that there’s an alien inside my boyfriend’s body, bonding to him as we speak,” you exhaled. “It’s insane!”
“It’s okay,” Jaime reassured, his other hand coming up to massage your shoulder. “You said it chose me, so how do we make it unchose me?” he asked, turning back to Jenny who had a look of softness cross over her eyes as she stared at you two.
“I’m not sure. But if I can get access to the proper technology, we can figure out a way,” she claimed. “I just need a key. It’s located at Kord Industries though,” she said, face falling.
“I have a way in,” Rudy said. “Come on, cabezon, we’re gonna get that thing outta you,” he pointed.
“Okay, Jenny, Rudy, and I will go. You guys stay here,” Jaime said, mainly looking at you.
“Are you crazy? I’m going with you,” you shook your head, standing up to meet him.
“Y/N, you haven’t slept since yesterday. You should sleep,” he cupped your face.
“I’m not tired,” you pulled away from him. “You’re insane if you think I’m letting you go out on this without me,” you argued. “I don’t want to miss this,” you frowned. “You have god-knows-what inside you, I should be there,” you reaffirmed, glancing at the floor.
“She’s right, mijo,” Alberto sided with you and Jaime let out a defeated sigh.
“Okay, let’s go,” he agreed.
~
The former Kord Estate was a magnificent abandoned haven. The secret passageway entering Jenny’s dad’s lab was insane and other-worldly. Nothing about this day made sense and you only hoped there was a cure so you could get on with your lives.
After Jaime decided a better fit of clothes would be preferred, you followed him and Jenny upstairs. You were both shown into an empty bedroom, presumably a spare one seeing as it had no personal touches added to it.
You were staring out the window while Jaime was in the bathroom when Jenny came back with a blue tracksuit be she left, a kind smile on her face as she departed. The door shut behind her as Jaime walked from the bathroom.
“I have accelerated healing,” he brushed his fingers over his cheek and you sent him a puzzled look. “Look,” he walked closer to you to show you his perfectly unbroken skin that was red and cut only a few moments ago.
“Hmm,” you hummed. “This is still too insane to believe,” you pressed a hand to your forehead, shaking out a laugh and your boyfriend smiled before pulling you in for a hug. “Does it hurt?” you asked, referring to the scarab.
“Not really,” he shrugged before he pulled off the muscle tee, leaving him shirtless in front of you. “It looks bad, but to be honest, it feels,” he paused for a second. “Normal”.
“That’s something then,” you wrung your fingers together, trying to sound as supportive as you could.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay, alright? We’re going to get it out of me,” he rubbed your arms reassuringly and you sighed. “I love you, you know that?” he rubbed his thumb along your cheek and you nodded.
“I love you too,” you recited. “It’s weird,” you added, glancing around the room. “The silence,” you tilted your head, able to hear nothing. “I’m now realizing I haven’t had a moment alone with you since you got back,” you chewed on your lip, cheeks heating up.
“I mean, we’re alone right now,” he suggested, a knowing look washing over his face.
“I want to savor it,” you nodded, staring into his beautiful brown eyes.
“You can do whatever you want, mi amor,” he traced patterns on your hip with his thumb.
“I really do need the distraction,” you licked your lips, gaze falling to his lips.
“Same here,” he swallowed.
“I think we have time,” you added, hands coming up to wrap around his neck softly.
“We definitely do,” he agreed, one of his hands sliding underneath your shirt.
🦋
With that, you both leaned in, pressing your lips together in a soft gentle kiss, one filled with desperation but screamed all the reassurance you both needed.
You ran your fingers through his hair, his hand squeezing your hip as he pulled you closer.
Living with five other people in a small house wasn’t as fun as it usually was. You shared a room with your boyfriend’s sister, your boyfriend was in another city for four years previously, and now that he was back, your schedules never coincided with your night shift. To keep things quick, you and your boyfriend rarely have sex.
His hands ran over your back, one hand finding its place on your waist while the other snaked up to cup your jaw. Your moans vibrated against each other as you pressed your bodies together, closer than before.
You pulled away, guiding Jaime to sit on the closest chair before you straddled his lap. Your kiss resumed as his hands glided over your ass and under your thighs while you threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging on his curls.
He made a move to take off your shirt and you followed through, leaving you in your bra until you got up quickly to shimmy your sweatpants off.
“Fuck,” Jaime threw his head against the chair, frustration laced in his tone.
“What?” you frowned, pausing in your movements. “Did you?” you led on, gaze dropping to his crotch. “It’s okay if-,” you shrugged, disappointment in your voice but his eyes shot open.
“No! Not that,” his cheeks tinted with pink. “We don’t have a condom,” he explained, and you tilted your head up in realization.
“Oh,” you said. “Well shit,” you exhaled. “So much for a distraction,” you bent down to pull your pants back up before you sat back in his lap, head resting against his shoulder.
“Soon, baby, soon,” he mumbled into your hair as he placed a kiss.
🦋
You smiled, reaching up for a kiss before a knock on the door was interrupted.
“It’s Rudy, I’m not coming in cause of last time, but we need y’all downstairs,” he shouted through the door and you couldn’t help but feel your face heat up at the thought of last time.
“We should go,” Jaime said once you heard Rudy’s steps fade away.
You agreed, getting up to move and letting him change before you opened the door. Your boyfriend stopped you though, hand wrapped around your wrist, you glanced at him expectedly.
“I’m really glad you’re here,” he said and you grinned.
“Me too”.
~
Reblogs are the best!
#jaime reyes x reader#jaime reyes#jaime reyes imagine#jaime reyes x you#jaime reyes fanfiction#blue beetle#blue beetle 2023#xolo maridueña
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Home Training
Wanda Maximoff x F!R
Wanda tries to tell you what to do after a long day of work, so you put her in her place | WC: 1,722
Smut: Mommy (R) | Brat / Pillow Princess Wanda | Nipple Clamps / Vibe / Masturbation / Fingering / Oral-Face-Riding (W) | Overstimulation | Orgasm Denial | 🤏🏼 Fingering (R)
18+ | Minors DNI
Wanda was panting, the way she always did when you had her ready to tip over the edge. This time though there was an underlying tension, and that was because instead of fucking her senseless you simply observed.
The brunette was needy and borderline aggressive with her words when you got home from work, exhausted.
"You left me a mess this morning, so fix it mommy!"
——
Truthfully, she should be thankful you hadn't tossed her across the bed and made her cheeks bright red.
No, instead you told her to use her own fingers and as good as they were, something you knew intimately, it was just never the same for her after finding yours.
Her attraction to you actually stemmed from watching you play a game of table tennis with Natasha, the way you gripped the paddle and curled and uncurled your fingers in brief moments of rest unlocked her desire.
Now the woman loved you more than life itself, but in this moment she likened you to the devil herself with the way you left her to build an orgasm up all alone.
"Mommy please," she cried—on the edge of something miraculous, but then you crushed her hopes. "Stop."
"Wh-what?" Wanda kept going, her slick fingers defiant in their race to send her crashing into bliss.
You tutted, "careful now baby, or I won't be nice."
Wanda whined but did as you said, bringing her fingers to a standstill as you slowly approached the bed, your left hand fell to her knee to push her legs out even wider, her other leg having naturally followed.
"I knew my good girl was in there somewhere," you teased the woman who merely mewled as she felt her walls flutter in desperation around her stilled fingers. "Now take your fingers out for mommy; don't pout."
Wanda, reluctantly, removed her fingers and went to lay them against her tensed stomach but you caught her wrist and seamlessly slipped the delicacy into your mouth as your own fingers replaced hers in an instant.
"Oh."
It was too much for her, to feel you ruthlessly jab into her g-spot after every slow, calculated thrust all while you tenderly licked her own fingers clean; she came.
While your eyes darkened hers widened in fear, it was a rookie mistake to forget to ask you, but it was like you were jonesing for her to make another one. There was a domineering glint in your eyes to confirm that.
You released her fingers with a pop, and sneered, "It looks like someone forgot her house training, hm?"
"I'm sorry," she whimpered, her hands reaching out to try and pull you in for a kiss meant to distract, but unlike her you weren't prone to bouts of irrationality.
"No matter," you decided, voice too calm for her to believe you would let this go, you never did before. "You'll ride mommy's face until you're collapsing."
There it was... Wanda's favorite worst nightmare.
"Help mommy undress," you commanded, uncaring that she was still coming down from her high and likely preparing to beg you for another punishment. One that didn't require her to once again, do most of the work.
Her favorite punishment, as she was indeed a masochist, was for you to fuck her well into the double digits. To leave her pussy numbed, raw and red. Those nights are usually because some idiot hits on her and instead of leaning into the well known knowledge that Wanda would never leave you, you let the jealousy win.
If only that were the case of tonight's events...
After a moment of recollecting herself Wanda was perched up on her knees, shakily as she adjusted to being upright in her current hazed state. Just as soon as she got your suit jacket off you laid your hands on her hips to stabilize her, above all else you cared deeply for your girlfriend's safety. No accidental bruises would ever mar her incredibly soft, sun-kissed skin, only the freckles that reflected a day spent by the pool and your calculated imprints as you yanked her into a kiss.
It was just as she finished unbuttoning your polo, it had slipped off your shoulders and hung off your back as you chose to break the momentum. Or at least you tried to, you were sloppy and rather rough but she still managed to unzip your pencil skirt and push it down.
In a natural fashion she leaned into the affection, and it was then that you abruptly ended the lip lock. A soft whine of protest begged to leave her throat but you watched the muscle bob as she swiftly swallowed it.
"Get your clamps," you mumbled against her cheek with a smirk as she froze. "The one with the chain."
Wanda obediently entered your walk in closet to collect the toy you'd requested, along with the bullet vibe as you called in after her as you were lying down to wait.
There was a subtle shake in her legs that you caught as she nervously approached, her knees pressed to the end of the mattress and in seconds she was straddling your thighs, waiting patiently for your next command.
Wordlessly you kneaded her perky breasts, giving her that warm, comforting touch she craved before you let the cold metal snap around her sensitive nipples. As a stability test you yanked on the chain and chuckled as she moaned, her hot breath fanning over your face.
"Don't play games now baby," you warned her, the octave drop in your tone made her squirm in need. "Mommy knows your limits, so don't try to fake it."
Wanda nodded dumbly, her easy submission was something you found endearing. So naturally, you pecked her lips gently before going back to stern.
There was no point in delaying the inevitable, so the woman shimmied the rest of her way up your body until you were in control of the pace. You gripped her by the hips and situated her body so that her cunt hovered directly over your mouth, then you pulled her down and slid your hands down to hold her thighs.
In moments like these you knew Wanda worried that she would suffocate you with her chubby thighs, but you never shared in her concern. Not only were you once a competitive swimmer, so you were trained to hold your breath, but you didn't mind the challenge.
If the choice was between breathing and munching you would always pick the latter as it brought you more joy.
The more she moaned, your name leaving her lips like a saccharine prayer, the less you needed to breathe. There was no scientific explanation, but all you knew was Wanda was a temptation you'd always give in to.
It was like you had extra oxygen reserved for the moments where you'd bury yourself in her for minutes on end. Nothing but the slurping of your mouth could be heard, not even tiny gasps of air from either of you.
"I-I'm close," she pointlessly whispered, it was clear as you found it near impossible to move your tongue in and out of her constricting hole, if not for her slick that was so abundant it dripped down onto your chest you would never have been able to finish her off so fast.
Wanda's body slumped forward, face smushed into the headboard as she tried to breathe through her orgasm. Which was damn near impossible as you forced her body back upright and growled against her sensitivity, "Don't start misbehaving now honey, ride my face!"
This time your hands on her hip were merely there to keep her upright, no longer did you guide her body. Wanda whined in various ways, most pleasurable but a handful were in protest to your cruel expectations.
Keeping her hips in sync with your vivacious tongue was no easy feat and she was already tired as it was. There was no end to the torture either as you made her cum three more times, alternating between using your mouth to stimulate her clit and the powerful vibrator.
"N-no more," Wanda cried, "mommy please, 'm sorry."
"One more," you refused to relent, knowing she was so close to falling apart in the way you admired the most.
Wanda cried but obeyed, shakily rocking her body and letting you know with her pornographic moans that the pleasure well outweighed the suffering she proclaimed with her pleaded protests for reprieve. Truthfully, she hated having to do all of the work, so for the last few seconds before her release you guided her by the hips and yanked on the forgotten about nipple clamps.
The brunette completed her task as she crumbled into the headboard a panting mess, and she remained just like that for several moments before you bit her thigh. A reminder to let you breathe, worried green eyes gazed down as she shimmied back and you shook your head with a gentle smile and adoring eyes. "Kisses?"
Wanda beamed at the offer and immediately laid her body atop of yours and kissed you passionately. A filthy feeling overcame her as she tasted her arousal and you felt her excitement with the way her tongue traced over your lips and even briefly dipped down onto your chin.
Several minutes passed as you were lost in the softer intimacy until you felt her chest shake against yours. You rolled your eyes behind your lids before ending the lip-lock, sticking to your conviction to ensure she took a breath even when she whimpered and tried again.
"Lay down," you softly said and she did so easily, almost as if she realized later than you how tired she was. Both of your eyes closed and peace settled in.
A soft voice broke the tranquility, "what about you?"
"You don't have to baby," you reminded your lover who had already snuggled atop of you, but she persisted on stubbornly as her lips pressed to your neck and her hand roamed over your side en route to your core.
"I want to mommy," her fingers had entered you with conviction, but the pleasurable movement she offered died down within seconds. A soft chuckle left you as you caught her calm face, "such a pillow princess..."
#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff smut#wanda maximoff blurb#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda maximoff x fem#wanda maximoff x y/n#wanda maximoff fluff
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Could you please do a villianxhero prompt?
They were on the same side. Sort of. Temporarily. Admittedly, it had been a temporary that had stretched on far longer than either of them had expected.
It had been nearly a year.
"I wouldn't," the hero said, as one of the villain's circle stood up to go find his absent leader in the study upstairs.
The villain's left-hand simply sneered at the hero before continuing on their way.
The hero sighed. They could feel a headache forming, but they moved to rise either way, with the celestial tug of everything they were.
"I wouldn't."
The hero glanced over at the villain's right-hand.
The right-hand smiled at them. "It serves him right. And it wouldn't do him bad to remember how much of a buffer you are when you're around."
"He'll get hurt."
"Then he should have listened to you, shouldn't he?"
Well, the hero didn't exactly have a good argument for that. While they'd learned to get on well with the villain's right hand, they still clashed frequently with the obnoxious and entirely too sycophantic left.
"Seriously," the right-hand said, softer. "It's not like you're planning to stop absorbing the worst of them any time soon, is it? Pick your battles."
"They're not that bad with me."
"You know how to handle them - better than anyone."
"Don't let them hear you say that."
The right-hand snorted.
They both looked up, towards the ceiling, towards the villain seething with setbacks out of view.
Something crashed.
"I'm not going to say 'I told you so,'" the hero said. "That feels mean."
"Don't worry." The right-hand sounded positively cheery. "I will."
The left-hand slunk back downstairs before they could respond, pale and shaken. It was, admittedly, a little satisfying. The villain was definitely a bad influence.
But, also, really. The villain telegraphed their moods fairly obviously and they'd got better at retreating when they felt inclined to be vicious. It wasn't a spoken boundary but it was a boundary to anyone paying attention.
It was possible that the hero paid too much attention. They just couldn't quite seem to stop.
"They told me to send you up," the left-hand muttered, with great resentment.
"Bold of them to assume you can send me anywhere."
"Please," the left-hand spat.
The hero grinned at them, before standing.
The right-hand's eyes gleamed, like they knew something that no one else had cottoned onto yet.
The hero shot them a two fingered salute, before they made their way upstairs. They rapped their knuckles against the door before entering.
"I've been summoned," the hero said, leaning against the door. "And you look like hell."
The villain scowled, dragged their hands through their hair.
The hero winked back at them.
The villain's glare intensified, but the tension slipped from their shoulders. "My head is killing me," the villain said. "I'm going to slaughter the next person who interrupts me."
The hero hummed, moving over to the sofa in the corner of the room. They flopped down, all casual like. The villain didn't even make a show of being casual or pretending to work for a minute more before they beelined over, all but shoving their face into the hero's neck.
The hero raised their eyebrows, surprised, then softened. The cupped the back of the villain's head, stroking through the dark locks. The villain melted against them. The hero felt something inside them ease too; a jungle cat finally settled and purring.
"It's disgusting that you're one of the few tolerable people left in the world," the villain said.
"Woe betide the minions. They try so hard."
"Don't take their side. You're mine."
The hero huffed, but didn't correct it, far too busy stifling a smile. Mine. It shouldn't have got to them like it did; there was a time when the word would have made them snarl with fury. They tucked their chin atop the villain's head. The connection between the two of them buzzed pleasantly.
They didn't ask if the villain wanted to talk about it. Inevitably, though, they did.
When the two of them wandered downstairs three hours later, the villain was themselves again.
"So," the right-hand asked, when the two of them were alone. "When's the wedding?"
#hero x villain#idk#heroes and villains#villains and heroes#writing#short story#enemies to lovers#writeblr#creative writing#villain x hero
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