#but they just aren’t in the same place at the same time

[lightsoutnaway]

Hellloooo can I request Carlos x Reader meeting his dad/family for the first time??

Thank youuu!!!

Meet the Family

PAIRING: Carlos Sainz Jr. x Reader

WARNINGS: None

SUMMARY: You meet Carlos' family at the Spanish Gran Prix.

WORD COUNT: 1,114

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! Sorry it took so long for me to get too. I've just gotten through a big series of projects at work though, and I have a lot of free time opening up! I appreciate your patience.

You were hanging your clothes in the closet of the hotel that you were staying at. You really wished they would build a track in Madrid so you could have one race where you and Carlos got to sleep at home. You picked up your last dress, sliding it onto a hanger and placing it in the hotel closet. 

“What do you want to do for dinner?” You asked Carlos as you started putting your shoes away. 

“My dad has a dinner reservation for all of us tonight,” Carlos told you. You froze. 

“Your dad?” You asked.

“Yes,” Carlos answered. “My mom and sister too.” 

“You didn’t tell me they would be here!” You exclaimed. Carlos looked over at you. He hadn’t realized your panic until then. 

“It’s the Spanish Gran Prix. I assumed you would know,” Carlos replied. 

“I assumed you would give me a warning before I met your family,” you told him. You ran a hand through your hair. Carlos tried to hold in a smile at your anxiety. “I don’t have gifts for any of them, Carlos.” 

“You don’t need gifts for them,” Carlos said. 

“My clothes aren’t nice enough either,” you continued. “I didn’t bring anything that’s right for dinner with your parents.” 

“You look perfect right now,” Carlos replied. You weren’t really listening. You stopped and looked at him. 

“Carlos, what if they hate me?” You asked. Carlos frowned. 

“They will not hate you,” Carlos assured you. 

“How do you know?” You pressed. 

“Because I love you. And they’re my family,” he answered. You took a deep breath. 

“Are you sure they won’t hate me?” You asked. Carlos chuckled. 

“They’ll love you, mi amor. My mother has been asking about you for months,” he told you. “She tells me how much happier I seem every time we talk. She knows it’s because of you.” Your cheeks warmed and your heart skipped a beat. 

“What about your dad?” You asked. You knew how much Carlos loved and respected his father. The approval of Carlos Sainz Sr. was something that you found yourself wanting the same way his son did. 

“He’ll love you too, amor,” Carlos assured you. “They all will. You’re going to fit right in.” You took a deep breath and nodded hesitantly.

“Do you really think that they’ll like me? You’re not just saying it?” You asked. Carlos reached up and pushed a hair out of your eyes. 

“Yes, mi amor. I have no worries. They will love you almost as much as I do,” he assured you. “We’re meeting them in an hour.” Your heart leapt in your chest. Meeting your boyfriend’s parents with one hour notice wouldn’t have been your first plan, but it didn’t give you much time to worry. When you arrived at the restaurant Carlos Sr., Reyes, and Blanca were all there already. You weren’t late, but the idea that you had kept them waiting already had you expecting that they hated you. Instead when you walked up Reyes wrapped you in a hug, quickly followed by her husband and daughter. 

“Y/N! It is so good to meet you,” Reyes greeted. Reyes hugged her son as Blanca kissed your cheeks. “Ella es muy bonita, Carlito,” Reyes praised her son. 

“My son never stops talking about you,” Carlos Sr. said as you sat down. “He tells us all about your job.” You looked at Carlos, a bashful expression spreading over your face. 

“Yes, I love my job. It’s not quite as exciting as being a racecar driver, but I like it,” you said. 

“I’ve asked him some questions, but I’m not sure he listens to you as well as he should…” Carlos Sr. proceeded to ask you about your career, clearly impressed by the fact that you were so advanced in your field. Blanca quickly took to you, her sense of humor matching yours–similar to her brother. Reyes didn’t say much but as she watched her son fawn over you, she didn’t find the need to ask you anything. 

“Do you want the last bite?” Carlos held out a forkful of chocolate cake to you. You smiled and let him feed it to you. 

“Thank you, my love,” you gushed before kissing his cheek. As sick as the sight made her, Blanca couldn’t help but be happy for her brother. Reyes and Carlos Sr. had knowing smiles on their faces as they watched their son. You were the one. They knew it just as well as their son did. Carlos Sr. paid for the meal before Carlos pulled your chair out for you, offering his arm to you as you exited the restaurant. Reyes and Blanca were chatting with you about where you would meet in the paddock tomorrow as Carlos went up to the valet stand with his father. The two of them handed their tickets to the valet before he walked off to get their cars. Carlos was watching you laugh with his mom and sister, his father observing the way his son stared at you so fondly. 

“Don’t mess it up with this one,” Carlos Sr. warned his son. “You’re never going to do better.” Carlos looked over at his dad and chuckled. 

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Carlos assured his father. Carlos opened your car door for you before all of you headed out. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” You called to Carlos’ family through the open car window. Carlos smiled to himself before reaching over and innocently resting his hand on your leg as he drove back to the hotel. 

“I told you that they would love you,” Carlos teased you. 

“You were nervous when you met my parents,” you reminded him with a huff. 

“Your dad is scary,” Carlos said. 

“I told you that he would like you though,” you replied. 

“And you were right. And I was right that my family would like you,” Carlos said. “We are just one big happy family.” You giggled. 

“We’re family?” You asked softly. 

“Yes,” Carlos said firmly. “Soon enough it will be legal too.” You looked at Carlos with wide eyes. 

“What?” Your voice was small and hopeful. Carlos smirked. 

“I thought I could adopt you,” he said. “Charles and Oscar made it seem fun.” You laughed at him. Carlos pulled up to the hotel. 

“I don’t need to be adopted though. I’ve got parents,” you teased as Carlos helped you from his car. He smiled as he wound his fingers between yours. His fingertip rubbed against the empty spot on your left ring finger that would be occupied soon enough. 

“That’s okay,” Carlos assured you. “I can think of another way to make you my family."

#carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #f1 x reader

[lovelettersfromluna]

Dream Girl

Summary: Did you seriously think you’d be able to get over someone like Ellie Williams? Think again, dream girl.

an: I’m so obsessed with this series and the portrayal of Ellie, there’s just something about a small town romance that scratches the sweet spot in my brain. I hope you guys have enjoyed this one just as much as I have! Thank you so much for all of the support 🤍

Warnings: smut! MDNI!! 18+, tribbing (another tribbing fic by Luna?? Ofc do you not know me by now?), lots of kissing, sub!ellie if you squint, angst, mentions of another love interest, mentions of cheating, reader sucks Ellie’s fingers, pet names, unsure and closed off reader, pls lmk if I missed anything!

Read part 1 here!!

You watched from your bed as the gentle wind blew your lace curtains further into your bedroom, the birds chirping as the early morning sun slowly rose, cascading a warm glow into your room, making you squint your sore eyes with a soft groan.

With the slow rise of the sun came the constant reminder that you’d spent yet another night without catching a wink of sleep, lying there as you allowed your thoughts to carry you to places you wished didn’t exist.

Places of your ex wife, the bitter taste of your marriage still lingering on your tongue, reminding you of everything that could have been, everything that was lost due to lust.

Places of Ellie, the person who stole your heart first. You think of everything that could have changed had you not gone to the city, how your life's outcome would have had such a great shift due to one tiny change within the line of events that made up who you were, and what you did with your life.

It all leaves the whole in your heart feeling bigger, wider, swallowing up so much of the tiny organ that it almost felt there was nothing left of it.

It had been only a few days since the last time you saw Ellie, and the memories of that night still lingering in you brain, hanging heavily in your mind, stopping you from focusing on anything but that.

Because as much it felt good to kiss her, you haven't even been divorced for a year, and the conflicting feelings that you had for Ellie, paired with the newfound distrust and heartbreak that came from your recent marriage caused a storm in your head, heavy clouds swirling about in the confides of your mind and making it heard to think, hard to breath.

It was all just too fucking hard.

But you knew life was different now. You weren't a teenage girl that could run from confrontations for her own comfort. You were a grown up now, experiencing grown up situations that called for grown up reactions. So you knew that you needed to talk to Ellie, no matter how much it hurt to even think about facing her right now.

You weren’t even entirely sure where to start. Texting her was an absolute no, despite how much easier it would be to confront her that way, behind a screen would do a great job at cushioning the blow that came with confronting Ellie. Calling fell under the same category, she deserved much more than a measly phone call from your end with the intention of patching things up.

Which left only one option. You had to see her in person.

You sighed softly as you sat up in your bed, looking over at your phone resting face down on your bedside table. You hadn’t touched it since that night, avoiding the device all together in fear that you’d see any messages or calls from the worried girl.

So you aren’t surprised when you finally pick it up to see just that. Ellie didn’t pry, there were about three phone calls and four messages, all of which came across far too understanding and supportive for someone that had been kicked out mid make out session a few nights prior.

You inhale deeply before you open up your messages with her, and begin typing.

Hi

I’m sorry I haven’t responded.

Are you busy today? Can we meet up? I feel we need to talk

You practically hold your breath until she responds, which doesn’t take a very long time because the minute you send your first message, she’s read it and already typing out her message back.

Hey, don’t apologize. I was just worried about you

Ofc we can meet. Farmers market is opened today, you wanna check it out?

You don’t even realize it, but her messages are making you smile the second you read them out. Probably because of how easy Ellie makes things, how hard it is to make things awkward with someone as kind as she is.

That sounds great.

I’ll meet you there

Cool :)

Despite the small amount of anxiety that has alleviated when you’re finished texting her, you know this is only the beginning, the easy part of a conversation that will be much harder to have, much harder to explain when you aren’t even sure how to navigate your feelings as it is.

But there was no use in putting it off any further, so you’re quick to get out of bed, brush your teeth, haul on a pair of old blue jeans and an old band t-shirt and make your way out to your car to meet Ellie in town.

It’s almost impossible to have a sour mood in a place as magical as your little town. The moment you got into your car, the warm sun soaking into your skin made you take a deep breath, allowing yourself to clear your head for a second before making your way out into town.

Your mom was right, the sun can cure more than you thought.

You hadn’t even realized it was Sunday, which meant it was your towns tradition to hold the farmers market in the town center. You used to look forward to it so much as a kid, knowing it would bring out the best of the people that lived here, showcasing the talent every person had.

Some people sold clothes that they made by hand, pieces that could only be made with love and care, something you often missed seeing in the city. Others sold jewelry, so delicately crafted it was almost unbelievable that someone was able to create something like it.

But your favorite? Was the food. Different pastries baked by the hands of men and women, recipes passed on from generation to generation to continue to breath life into the traditions that made up your town, tying one another together with a single cake or pie.

It was almost like magic.

You catch yourself smiling as you walk down the strip of stands already getting into their sales. Your heart warms at the sight of familiar faces, aged but still happy. You notice new ones as well, like when you approach a stand you remember being up when you were kid, one of which sold your favorite sweet rolls.

Your attention is far too occupied with chatting up the familiar curly haired girl at the stand, the same one that your visit when you were a teenager, eager to her mothers famous pastures. You’re surprised to see that there’s now a baby on her hip sporting the same head of spiral chocolate brown locks sprouting from her head, giggling and kicking excitedly as you introduce yourself, grabbing the babies hands as you catch your with her mom.

Ellie had arrived not long after you, standing nearby as she smiles fondly at the way the baby quickly becomes enamored with you. Watching you play with kids was something that always made her heart flutter with joy.

You giggle softly as she hands you both pastries, giving her a nod as she begs you to come visit her and the sweet baby more often. You hum softly as you struggle to push both your receipt and your phone back into your purse, groaning softly to yourself as you fail to notice the sudden looming presence that falls over the, gentle hands opening your bag wider as they aid you in putting everything away.

“Here, lemme help you” Ellie breaths out gently, her voice alone making you freeze as your eyes trail to her body to land on her face that was suddenly very close to yours.

She chuckles when she notices you staring up at her with wide eyes, nodding her head down to your bag.

“Come on now, would hate to make you drop those” she hums as she mentions the pastries in your other hand. You blink a few times before you clear your throat, giving a quick nod before you push your things into your bag with her help.

“Fuck…sorry…I…um…” you struggle to speak, adjusting your bag on your shoulders as you watch the girl step back with a soft smile.

“No worries, you alright?” She questions, neck craning down a bit to get a good look at you, her own big green eyes staring into yours, making it hard to breath.

God, this was going to be much harder than you thought.

You inhaled deeply, opening your mouth to speak before closing it, looking down at the sweet rolls in your hand before outstretching your arm to hand one to her.

“I bought this for you…I figured you hadn’t eaten yet so…” you mumble out softly, watching as she stared at you for a moment before looking down at the perfectly packaged baked good in your hand.

Her heart warming at the mere thought of you thinking of her in that way.

She smiles softly before she nods, placing her hand on the small of your back as she began guiding you out of the small strip of stands.

“So sweet of you…c’mon, there’s some places to sit right up this way” she suggests, giving you a small reassuring smile as she leads you there.

Somehow it seems perfect. The sun, the birds chirping, the little shady spot that Ellie leads you over to, covered by the biggest tree with the prettiest flowers slowly drifting down from above. It’s truly something out of a dream….

It made you wish this was all a dream.

You let out a soft sigh as you sit opposite of Ellie on the wooden bench, your fingers toying with the paper the pastry in front of you is wrapped in. Ellie frowns as she watches you closely, knowing the expression far too well. She could see just how much you were in your own head, how the events you two shared prior lingered in your mind, making it hard to focus on anything.

You couldn’t even look at her, and she hated that.

She inhaled deeply before she reached a hand out, gently placing it atop yours.

“I hope you didn’t bring me out here to apologize…because you don’t have to” her words are soft, and sweet, and it makes your throat get tight because she shouldn’t be so kind to you after what you did, after the way you treated her.

You don’t respond, so she takes the opportunity to keep talking.

“I get that things are probably hard…and I shouldn’t even have kissed you that night…so I’m sorry” she tries again, and you scoff softly before shaking your head.

“Don’t…don’t apologize” you mumble out before you inhale deeply, finally looking up, only not at her, at the scenery around you both.

“I caught her in our bed, with some girl she worked with” you mumble out softly, fingers mindlessly running along the rough surface of the wooden table.

“I probably should have seen it coming….but I think I wanted things to work out so badly that I just ignored it” you shrug slightly as you explain before you finally look over at Ellie, who’s already staring intently as she listens to you.

“Ellie I don’t want you to feel sorry for me, or to think that I’m using my divorce as an excuse for what I did, for what happened between us….but I just need you to know that I’m hurting, and it’s just….hard for me to open myself up to something like that again after what happened” your voice breaks as your emotions threaten to give you away, chin wobbling as tears pool in your eyes.

But you don’t let them flow free. You don’t want to cry anymore, not over this.

“I…I just need time….” You silently beg, beg for her to understand what it is you’re going through, what it is you’re experiencing.

It scares you when she doesn’t answer right away, her green eyes scanning your face as she takes it all in. It’s a lot, and you know that, but there’s a tiny part of you that begs for Ellie to do what she does best, which is tell you exactly what you need to hear.

She blinks a few times before giving you a nod, paired with a soft smile. “You don’t even have to ask….you know I’d understand no matter what”

You inhale deeply as you watch her, her gentle eyes, her soft smile telling you that all would be fine. It make your stomach churn because you feel like you don’t deserve it, you feel like she deserves so much more than what you’re giving her.

You two haven’t even addressed what actually happened that night.

There’s nothing more to do than to simply smile back at her. It’s weak, and it isn’t much, but it’s all you can mange right now.

Ellie smiles softly at you before she looks down at the rolls in front of you both. “As good of a baker that Mary Beth is….i think we need some real food” Ellie hums out softly before she swings her leg over the bench to get up, nodding her head towards a small diner nearby.

“Come on. Let’s get something to eat” she suggests, holding her hand out for yours.

She notices the way your eyes linger on her calloused hand, unsure of whether or not you should take it, unsure of what signals it would send if you did.

You were unsure of everything. Unsure of Ellie, yourself, your own feelings. Nothing felt solid enough to trust, and you hated that someone like Ellie could make you feel that way, even though you knew that it wasn’t her that was making you feel that way, but rather what happened to you instead.

She can see it, she can see right through you and for a moment her frown mimics yours before she it turns into a soft smile.

“As friends” she affirms gently.

She sees a flash of something ripple through your eyes at this when you finally look up at her, something she doesn’t want to read too much into, something that she knows she can’t dive into for your own comfort, and perhaps even hers too.

A moment passes before you crack a weak smile, placing your hand into hers before you nod. “Yeah…as friends” you manage to make out weakly before grabbing the things off the table, shoving them into your bag and leaning into Ellie’s warmth as she guides you to the diner.

Ignoring the bitter taste left on your tongue at the way Ellie assured you that she was your friend, and nothing more.

Your mind was in absolute shambles.

It had been a few weeks since the farmers market with Ellie, and truthfully all had been well between the two of you. You both ate together, talked, laughed, you were even able to talk about your divorce, explaining to Ellie how you felt, what it had done to you, and she listened to it all, nodding along to your words, giving you the advice you didn’t want to hear, but very much needed. For a moment it was easy to forget all about the tension that had settled between you both, the thoughts that plagued you were finally silenced as you allowed yourself to just simply be.

That was until you got home.

The second you were in your bedroom, lying there, staring up at the ceiling, memories of that night began to flood into your mind. You could feel it all so clearly, Ellie’s hands on your body, her lips pressed against your mouth, gasping for air, her tongue sliding against your own. Her words echoed throughout your mind, desperate pants and moans of how she needed you, of how you needed her.

You couldn’t sleep a wink.

It felt as though you hadn’t even talked to her, as if things hadn’t glossed over to where they were okay, a point where things were fine between you both. They were, but the feelings you had were still there. You thought that if you had at least talked to Ellie, explained to her what you were feeling, it would give you a head start on where to go with sorting out your own feelings.

None of that ever came.

Your body yearned for a moment of peace from the issues at hand, you wanted to feel the same way you felt when you were sat at the diner with Ellie, her laugh and her sparkling smile distracting you from the things you were feeling.

But you knew you couldn’t turn to her for a distraction, you couldn’t use her to occupy your mind from facing things that you’d much rather ignore. That wasn’t fair to her and it would only hurt you further in the long run, lengthen the grieving process of the death of your marriage.

You couldn’t do that to Ellie.

You could however, go somewhere that you knew would clear your mind the moment you were there.

The low hum of your car engine shuts off as you pull up to the familiar clearing, a gentle smile on your face as you can already hear the gentle stream of the water the moment you’re stepping out of the car.

The old creek was one everyone in your town treasured, a tiny glimpse of paradise in the confides of your backyard. It was where all the seniors would go for senior skip day, and where families would visit to spend the day with their children. If there was any place that the people of your town would be during the summertime, it would be the creek.

And rightfully so, the waters sparkled like nothing you’d ever seen before, the shady trees hiding the spot away like a secret that belonged to you and only you. You had many fond memories of the place, ones with your family, your siblings, your old friends from school.

Ellie.

You and her would visit the spot any chance you got, diving into the cold water the moment you were there. You could recall the moment you two first found out, thinking it was a secret only you two shared, just to find out your parents had been visiting when they were your age as well.

Regardless of the fact that it didn’t belong to you two, it felt like it. A small piece of the world that you and Ellie could call your own, sharing secrets there with one another, Ellie pushing you off the old swing tied up to one of the trees before she swung in soon after, diving in and holding you close to her chest as she promised you’d be together forever, for as long as you both lived.

The intensity that you both shared as teenagers often made you laugh. What a silly thing for two teenage girls to say who have barely experienced the world out there.

You let out a gentle sigh as you rugged off your denim shorts after setting your spot up. A small blanket settled down with your bag, your old camera and a few books, clearly having every intention of staying the entire day, swimming to your hearts content.

Once you’re stripped of your clothes, your body only clad in your old bathing suit, you waste no time in making your way down to the water, shivering slightly once your toes hit the cold water, wiggling them in the process.

You’re convinced swimming in the small body of water has to have some sort of mystical healing properties, because the moment you’re diving your head under, eyes examining the aquamarine world that is below the surface, your mind is clear. It makes you feel like you could live there, swimming amongst the different underwater caverns and the fish, creating a whole new world below as the little mermaid you always dreamed to be.

Your mother always told you she thought she’d given birth to a little fish when your father first took you swimming.

It’s so easy to lose track of time when you’re like this, floating around in the water, letting its coldness wrap you up and swallow you whole. It’s almost comforting how quiet it is, the only sounds being the gentle stream of the water, the wind rustling against the tree leaves and the frequent sound of the birds chirping to let you know that you weren’t alone, letting you know they were there with you.

You don’t even realize it but you’ve spent hours swimming about in the small pond, the grumbling in your stomach finally stops you for a moment to actually think about anything other than swimming, forcing you out to lay out onto your blanket and dry in the sun, occasionally popping the sweet berries into your mouth you’d brought from home.

The book you’ve brought with you also silences the outside world, allowing you to flip from page to page without thinking of anything but the regal characters that seemingly had much more to worry about than you. What a world it would be to wear uncomfortable dresses and attend balls in the hopes you’d find the perfect husband.

What would they think of your divorce?

It makes you snort to yourself, a gentle hum leaving your lips as you flip another page, unaware of the sudden sound of feet crunching against the grass slowly approaching you.

The high pitched sound of your name being called rips your attention away from your book, furrowing your eyebrows a bit as you cup your hand above your eyes to shield from the sun, trying to get a good look at who it was that was disturbing your peace.

“I didn’t think I’d be seein’ you here! What a surprise!” Lilac chirps out, her curly hair tied up into a perfectly styled bun, tight coils framing her face as she clutches her towel to her chest.

You hadn’t seen her since the night Ellie took you out to the Copper Cat a few weeks ago, the girl not lingering on your mind much as you had much bigger fish to fry. You were honestly a bit shocked that she’d even remembered your name.

You give her a gentle smile as you sit up, your legs folding to cross one another as you give her a small smile.

“Good to see you Lilac….going for a swim?” You ask her, watching as the girl takes the spot right next to yours, her blanket fitting perfectly up against your own as she gives you a confident nod.

“Mhm! It’s too hot…bless Ellie’s heart for sharin’ this place with me. Don’t know what I’d do without it” she chirps out as she tugs her own denim shorts off, leaning her in the cutest little bikini.

You know she doesn’t mean it in the way that it sounds, bragging about being introduced to the small clearing by your ex girlfriend, and you knew that it was only in due time that this place was mentioned to her by someone in your town, making sense that Ellie would do it first since that’s just the kind of girl Ellie was.

But there’s just something that tugs at your heart at the thought of it all. Ellie mentioning this place to her, the two of them coming down together, alone, Lilac adorned in another one of those adorable bikinis she had to show off to Ellie her gorgeous body as they play in the water together.

Something about Ellie sharing the spot you two shared with someone else that just rubbed you the wrong way.

You inhale deeply, trying to calm your nerves as you remember that this girl owes you nothing, Ellie owes you nothing and Lilac has been nothing but kind to you from the moment she met you.

Giving her a gentle smile as she settles down next to you, you nod. “It’s pretty great out here…I’m surprised it isn’t so packed. Seems we got lucky” you give her a nod before you sigh, turning your attention back to your book.

She smiles fondly as she watches you turn your attention back to your book, her neck craning down a bit to get a good look at the cover, gasping softly once she realized what it was you were reading.

“You read those too? I love them! I just finished the first two” she beams, a soft hum leaving your lips as you look up at the girl, raising your eyebrows at her comment.

“Really? Most people think they’re super corny” you pout softly as you turn the book over to look at the cliche cover, which only earns a firm head shake from Lilac.

“Honey I’m a hopeless romantic, I daydream more than I actually try talking to people” she giggles out softly, giving you a gentle shrug.

Her words make you chuckle softly, gently closing your book as you toss it to the side before sitting up to mirror her posture, crossing your legs as you suddenly give her your full attention.

“You’re a hopeless romantic? But…Lilac you’re gorgeous. I wouldn’t be shocked if you have every single guy here desperate to get a chance with you” you confess, which only makes her shake her head as she gives you a shy smile, gently shoving your knee.

“Don’t you dare! I’m awful at talking to people” she pouts out, her eyes dropping from her own as she stares down at the flowers on her blanket, delicate fingers tracing the patterns gently as she lets out a gentle sigh.

“If I’m being honest…it’s not the guys here that I want…” her words trail off softly, and it makes you pout softly as you eye the girl, seeing how whatever is on her mind is clearly bothering her, plaguing the girl just as much as what was on your mind.

You open your mouth to ask her about it, feeling bad about whatever she was going through, but she’s quick to shake her head and put on a bright smile once she looks back into your eyes. “But let’s not get into that! M’glad you’re here to join me today” she breaths out, her voice sweet and genuine as her eyes soften.

And it makes your heart rate finally slow down, seeing just how genuine the girl seemed, how happy she was to be there with you regardless of the fact that you were as good as a stranger to her than anything more.

You smile softly as you nod, leaning forward and placing your hand on hers, giving a gentle squeeze. “Don’t mention it, Lilac” you hum out softly.

If there was anything you didn’t expect to do today, it was to have made a new friend, especially one in Lilac. The two of you spent the entire day down at the creek, laughing together, swimming together. The more time you spent with her, the more you realized just how much in common the both of you had.

Being completely honest with yourself, she had more kindness in her pinky than anyone in the city ever did.

The sun has set, and the breeze blew against your warm skin as you leaned against your car, Lilac in front of you as she made yet another joke that had you throwing your head back as you let out a loud laugh.

“Stop I feel the same way! I always wondered what happened to him” you gasp out, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear as you lean back to shove your back into the passenger seat of your car. Lilac giggles softly as she nods, her arms crossed over her chest as she swatted away the mosquitos slowly began to swarm around you both.

“He’s still an idiot, some people never change I fear” she groaned out, a prominent pout on her perfect lips before she cocked her head to the side, smiling fondly at you.

“Ellie was right about you, you know? You really are somethin’ special” she breaths out, and it has your eyes going wide at the mention of the girl. It makes you realize that you hadn’t thought about her all day, not since Lilac had joined you.

It makes you wonder what other things Ellie had said about you.

You whine softly as you bring your hand forward to nudge her playfully. “Shut up….you’ll blow my head up” you warn the girl playfully before you sigh softly, looking over at the sun that was slowly bur surly setting, the once warm glow that casted onto you both disappearing.

“Ahh I should get going…we shouldn’t be on the roads too late” you breath out softly, turning towards the girl and giving her a small smile, only to see a sad one on her face.

You frown softly as you watch her, leaning forward and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “Hey? You okay?” You ask gently, suddenly worried about the girls shift in her mood.

She lets out a gentle sigh before she looks down at her feet, kicking around the gravel below before she lets out a soft hum. “I know we don’t know each other well…but…I feel like you’ll be my only help with this” she admits to you, her eyes still casted downwards before you assure her with a soft voice. “Of course you can..” you mumble out softly.

She finally looks up at you, taking a deep inhale before she gives you a half smile. “I…think I like Ellie” she breaths out, as if she’d been keeping it held in for so long, as if finally telling you was letting a weight off of her shoulders.

Letting it off of hers and slamming it down onto yours.

You find it hard to breathe, because suddenly you’re shot back to the first night you met Lilac at the Copper Cat. Ellie’s hand on her waist, hers on Ellie’s arm as she whispers in her ear, the two of them matching one another far more than you felt you could’ve ever matched Ellie. You feel threatened, and it sets a fire off in your chest, and you feel like the world is crumbling around you as this beautiful girl admits her innocent feelings for your ex girlfriend.

When you don’t speak, she continues.

“And I just…you and her are so close, so I was hoping maybe you could give me some advice? Should I go for it? Do you…think she’d like me back?” She asks hopefully, twiddling with her fingers nervously as she watches you closely, awaiting your response.

You stare are her blankly, your body working on autopilot as you try to work your way through this. Seeing her that night felt like it might’ve all been in your head, especially when Ellie ran out after you and left the moment you were ready, but now this is all real. This is Lilac confirming that what you felt was real, and this was the reality of coming back to your hometown, more specifically your ex girlfriend.

And as you stand there, trying to figure out what the hell to say to this girl, you can only see someone doing the same thing that you’re doing. She’s a young girl, looking for love in this crazy fucked up world, and she’s unsure of herself. Someone as beautiful as her is unsure of herself and you could only wish that someone would have guided you when you were pursuing your ex wife, a third party bystander giving their advice and helping you through it all.

Because as much as it kills you? Ellie deserves love, and so does Lilac, and if they find it in one another, who the hell are you to take that away from them.

The both of them owe you nothing.

You inhale deeply before giving her a soft smile, nodding as you reach out to give her arm a gentle, assuring squeeze. “I think Ellie would be thrilled to be with someone like you, Lilac….you should go for it” you breath out genuinely, watching as the girls face lights up with joy with your confirmation, an excited squeal leaving her lips.

“I was hoping you’d say that! You’re an angel” she squeals, reaching forward and grabbing you up into her arms as she gives you a tight hug, swaying back and forth as she tucks her chin into your shoulder.

You can practically feel the happiness radiating off of her.

You smile softly as you nod, wrapping your hands around her as you hug her back before you hum. “You didn’t need me…you’ll be great on your own” you assure her before you pull away, giving her a reassuring nod.

She smiles brightly as she nods before she lets out a loud sigh. “Right…get home safe, alright? And text me! We can hang out sometime this week” she sings out as she gets into her car, giving you a wave as she begins pulling off.

And suddenly you’re left there all alone, with the newfound thoughts that are swirling about in your head. You know already that you won’t be able to sleep, not with the mental image of the two of them dancing around in your mind, forcing you to face reality, face the facts that time moves on with or without you.

But you were tired of being left behind, you were tired of being the last one to know things, the one broken heart in a sea of mended ones.

Driving off in your car from the creek gives you time to think, the cool breeze kissing your skin, pushing your hair back as the radio plays your favorite songs, creating somewhat of a perfect scenario to think things over rather than running from them.

While it all hurts, you know that there’s no use in standing in the way of Lilac or Ellie or whoever for that matter. Life would continue moving, and in that meant new love would be found, for both you and Ellie, it just felt like that wouldn’t happen for you in the moment, even if you knew it would.

But you were going to move on from this. And you were going to be fine, no matter how long it took for you to catch up with the tracks of life that seemingly always got the best of you.

There’s something therapeutic about hanging up the laundry on the old clothes line in your backyard.

You used to make fun of your mom all the time when she did it, telling her that there was a perfectly good dryer inside that would take less than half the time to dry the clothes than they did outside, not to mention less work when it came to picking them in.

However as you’ve grown older, there’s something so simple about walking outside with your basket on your hip, the gentle smell of detergent blowing into your direction as you pin up several articles of clothing, your white sheets, anything that you’ve washed, that tickles your brain in the best ways.

That, and the fact that these days you’ll take any task to fill your brain with thoughts other than Ellie or your ex wife.

Things had been fine. You spoke to Ellie here and there, dropped dinner off at Joel’s house that you knew he made sure she got some of whenever you made extra, you even made time for Lilac within the week as well. You’d picked up a small job in town as well, working at the cashier of a small floral shop that had been in town from you could remember.

So although your mind drifted to places you didn’t often like, life was fine. Life was slow, and life was good.

Lilac constantly gushed to you about Ellie, talking about all the progress they’d been making, asking your opinion on the girls behavior, which you always tried your best to help with. Although the strange thing about it all, was you heard nothing from Ellie about the situation. She didn’t mention anything about Lilac, not even when you brought it up.

It wasn’t long until you began distancing yourself from the both of them, knowing how hard it would be once they became official and you had to live life in a world where they were together.

Because although you were doing okay, the wound was still fresh, and you had to keep your peace.

You hummed a gentle tune softly as you continued hanging up your linen on the line, enjoying the feeling of the cool summer breeze against your skin, the dandelions dancing along through the air as they became loose from their stems.

The sound of your fence creaking open cuts right into your thoughts of housework, forcing you to turn around as you hang up another one of your sleep shirts, a soft smile on your lips when you catch sight of the familiar tall brunette walking into your backyard, both her hands shoved into the pockets of her denim jeans.

“Ellie…didn’t think you were coming over” you sigh out softly as you clip the end of your shirt up, continuing to hang up your clothes regardless of her being there.

“Was in the neighborhood….I thought I’d stop by” she breaths out, eyes taking in your form as you continue with your chore.

Her voice seems like something is bothering her, and you catch onto it the second she utters her first syllable. You know already why she’s here, to question you about your sudden absence, wondering if things were okay with you or not, worry clear in her tone.

“You…haven’t been around lately” she mumbles out, that same worried tone laced throughout her words.

It was just as you suspected.

You frown, thanking the task of laundry that hides your expression from her. It’s so much easier to lie to Ellie whenever you’re not looking into her eyes.

“Oh…I’ve just been uh…dealing with some stuff” you’re quick with the excuse, clearing your throat before you turn around to give her a soft smile. “I’m fine…honest” you give her your best attempt at a reassuring nod before you turn back to your laundry.

You have to turn away from her quickly, because you can see from the small glimpses you get of her that she’s frowning, and her brows are furrowed together with something that’s bothering her.

You hope she’ll leave after you tell her you’re fine.

But she doesn’t. You don’t hear her respond to your words, or even turn around silently to go about her day. You hear nothing behind you, only the sound of your white sheets wafting through the wind, drying on the line before you.

You frown when you look down to see your basket is empty, and the task of pinning up your clothes is no longer present to hide you away from Ellie.

So you need to get rid of her.

You inhale deeply, picking up the old basket and placing it on your hip, putting your most believable smile on your face before turning around, finally locking eyes onto the girl to see something that makes your heart sink.

It looks like she hasn’t slept, prominent bags under her pretty eyes, pouty pink lips chapped, most likely picked and bit at out of anxiety, a bad habit you knew she had whenever something was bothering her. Your heart tugs at the image, wanting nothing more than to pull the girl down into a hug, consoling her and telling her that whatever was bothering her, would be fine.

But you can’t. Because things aren’t the same anymore.

You inhale deeply before you nod your head towards your back door. “Well…I have lots to do inside…more house work…dinner” you explain, trying your best to hint at Ellie leaving without having to say so.

“Did I do something wrong?” She finally makes out, her words a clear plea to understand the situation rather than a half mumble that she’d rather not say.

It makes you furrow your eyebrows, watching the girl with a confused look as you try to understand her.

“Wrong? Ellie…I’ve barely seen you. What could you have possibly done wrong?” You try, confused of the sudden outburst from the girl.

Her eyes are stormy, hazy and hard to read. Her brows are knit as she looks down at the floor before looking back into your eyes, a prominent frown on her face.

“Why would you tell Lilac that there’s something worth looking for between her and I…why would you…” her words trail off, as if she wants to say more, as if she wants to persist with knowing why you would have done such a thing.

And soon it all starts making sense.

You wish Lilac wouldn’t have said anything. You wish she wouldn’t have told Ellie that you were the one that told her to go for it, even if she was the one that asked in the first place. You wish she would have just pursued Ellie without any mention of you, because was that even necessary? You know she must have done it to gush about you even further, the girl becoming enamored with you from the moment she saw you, and even more so once you two became closer.

But for the love of god…did she really have to tell Ellie that you were the one to tell her to go for it?

You open your mouth to speak before you sigh softly, your hands squeezing the handles of your clothes basket before you speak. “I….she spent the day down at the creek with me and when we were about to leave she told me she liked you…and she asked me if I thought she should pursue you” you explain with a shrug of your shoulders, which only makes Ellie scoff in disbelief.

“And you told her that was a good idea?” She argues back, as if it were the dumbest thing you could have ever done. She says it as if it were common knowledge to tell the girl other wise, you raise your eyebrows when she says this.

“Yeah? Why not? Lilac is…she’s fucking gorgeous Ellie. Anyone would be lucky to have her, and you should be happy I put you on with someone as great as her” you mumble out as you slip past the girl, clearly done with Ellie and this conversation as you walked up the wooden steps leading to your back door.

But Ellie isn’t finished with you, because she’s quick to follow behind, closing the door behind you as you make your way into your laundry room to set your basket down, your hands going to your hips once you turn around to see the girls built figure standing in your doorway.

“Ellie come on…I have things to do…you need to go” you huff out as you slip past her once again, going off into your living room to start on the dried laundry that needed to be folded, hoping that the girl would simply drop it and leave.

“You know I understood you the night after the show, and I was more than willing to give you all of the space you need, but this feels like you’re playing some sick joke on me” she’s standing over you now, watching as you try to ignore her in favor of some pillow cases that needed folding.

“Is pushing me into the arms of someone else your solution? And ignoring me until I’ve forgotten all about it? Is that the plan? Is that seriously what you think it’ll take to get rid of me?” She tries again, her voice pleading with you at this point as she watches you ignore her.

But this time you done, your hands drop to your lap as you stare up at her in disbelief before you toss the pillow case to the side, standing up opposite of her.

“I never had a plan! Lilac asked me a question and I was honest with her. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t be happy with someone else” you explain to her before you finally feel as though you’ve had enough, a huff of annoyance filling the silent air as you round the couch to slip away into the kitchen.

Before you’re fully there, Ellie’s voice is echoing off the walls.

“But I can’t be happy with someone else!” She shouts out, her arms flailing up inti the air before dropping down to her side, the sound of her palms slapping against her jeans before she sighs.

You stop dead in your tracks when you hear that one, your back still turned to her.

“How could I possibly be happy with anyone else when you’re all I fucking think about….” Her voice is tired, and it’s almost as if she’s begging you for something, something you are not capable of, something you cannot give.

Begging for you.

“From moment we had our first kiss….to the moment I said goodbye to you before you left for the city…I’ve only ever wanted you” you can hear her getting closer, slowly making her way towards you as you stand there at the edge of your kitchen, frozen, silent, unable to say anything to her as she confesses these things to you.

“It’s pathetic, and I’ve tried to suck it up for your sake because I know….you’re going through a tough time after that moron did what she did….but I can’t fucking hide anymore” she breaths out, and it sounds the same exact way that Lilac sounded when she admitted to you that she had feelings for Ellie those nights ago.

Your back is still turned to her, and you know she’s right behind you because her smell fills up your lungs and makes your eyes roll to the back of your head as you try to fight all of it back, everything that you’ve done, all that you’ve worked through from the moment you got home to get to the point that you were at currently.

But you feel all of it break the moment Ellie’s strong hand grips your shoulder gently, sighing softly as she speaks.

“Look at me….please angel…” she begs, her skin wafting onto your neck as she tries her best to fight the urge to grab you right then and there and kiss you.

When you finally turn around, her heart breaks, because the whites of your eyes are red, and there are heavy tears pooling at the edge of your eyes, making them sparkle in the warm light of your kitchen, looking so beautiful yet so tragic all in the same time.

Her chest tightens as she leans in to cup your cheek, fighting back the urge to groan as she inhales deeply. “I can’t…I don’t wanna pretend like I’m not still in love-“ you’re quick to cut her off, your tears spilling out onto her cheeks the moment you hear the word.

“Don’t…don’t say it” you warn her with shaky words, struggling to even speak with the burning sensation in your throat.

You don’t think you could handle it, hearing those words fall from someone’s lips again, the fear rising the moment they hang from Ellie’s, flashbacks of you’re wife at the alter, promising you everything and more before she kissed you and whispered in your ear that she loved you.

It’s scary, and it makes you feel terrified of Ellie.

Before she can carry on even further, trying her best to convince you that her words are true, silently begging you to hear her out as her wide green eyes stare down into yours, you’re cutting her off.

“I told you already Ellie…I’m not….i can’t do this again. I can’t give myself to someone like I did with her” your voice trembles as you explain, her vision blurring with tears as you try your best to swallow them all back.

She licks her lips as she stares down at you before she shakes her head. “I get it….I get that you’re hurting from what happened, but I can’t keep going on without you knowing anymore….” She starts to explain, both of her hands coming up to cup either side of your face, forcing you to look up at her.

“I’ve….god I’ve longed for you from the moment you left after high school. There was not a day that went by where I did not think of you for even a few seconds. And I’m sorry for what happened, and I understand if I’m just a childhood fling for you, but I’d rather you tell me that then try to push someone else onto me to distract me from what I’ve felt all these years” she rambles on, nearly stumbling over her words as they all bubble up to the surface, overflowing and dragging you down with her.

You open your mouth for a moment before closing it, looking far too similar to a fish out of water as you try to find the words to say. What are you even supposed to say? Are you supposed to lie to her? Tell her that you haven’t felt the same way? But now it’s different and it hurts to even try to envision yourself in a relationship with someone let alone pursue them? Even when it’s Ellie?

Your Ellie?

She watches as you struggle to speak, her eyes searching yours for even a sliver of hope that this will work, that her confession will bring you to a point where you can both meet, where things can be okay again.

And if they can’t? She needs to hear you say it out loud.

“Tell me you don’t feel the same” she deadpans, hands dropping from your face as any hope she might have had slowly drains out, fizzling out of her system as she watches you simply stare up at her, a mere shell of the girl she once knew.

“Tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll never bring this up again. We can move on from this and we can be friends. I promise” she breaths out, feeling the air slowly leaving her lungs, making it hard to breathe.

You feel the exact same way. You feel like the world has stopped around you both as images of your life swirls around your head.

There’s images of your ex wife, taking the privilege of love from you, ripping your heart out of your chest and walking away with it the moment she decided to cheat on you. It hurts, and it burns and it feels like something you’ll never recover from, something that leaves a wound so deep, that it will never grow the familiar leathery skin that it’s supposed to, creating a scar that acts as merely a memory for what happened, for what you endured.

And then there’s something sweeter in the corner, so small that if you pay enough attention to the hurt in your heart, you don’t even notice it.

It’s memories of Ellie. Sharing your first kiss with her, going to prom with her, spending late nights with her in your bedroom talking about the future, spending time with one another that will leave sweet memories in your mind till the day you die. It’s soft, and it’s easy and it makes your insides flutter with excitement at the mere thought of her by your side.

As you’re looking over all these parts of you, standing in your kitchen with Ellie and staring up into her eyes, you make a remarkable discovery.

You realize that if you try hard enough, the pain that comes from what your ex wife did doesn’t hurt as bad, long as you’re focusing on the feeling that Ellie gives you.

Because when you’re with Ellie, you feel nothing but love.

You lick your own lips as you stare up at her, inhaling deeply before you shake your head, feeling your throat burn with tears before you speak.

“I can’t do that….” Your words trail off for a moment before your eyes drift down to her strong hands, missing the feeling of her skin pressed against yours.

You slowly reach forward to take her tattooed hand into yours, your fingers dancing along the intricate details of the leaves on her wrist before you interlock your fingers, finally looking up at her as your eyes well up with tears for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

“Because I….feel the same way” you breath out, watching as her sage colored eyes glimmer with happiness, a gentle sigh of relief leaving her lips as she quickly moves her hand to cup your face, her other reaching down to hold onto your waist, pulling you close to her body.

“Jesus…c’mere” she practically moans out before she smashes her lips against yours in a passionate, love filled kiss.

You giggle softly, your hands wrapping around her wrist as you waste no time in kissing her back, arms coming up to loosely wrap around her neck as you press your chest against hers, reveling in the feeling of her lips pressed against your own.

You hummed a gentle tune to yourself as you mixed up the pitcher of lemonade, far too deep in thought to pay the bustling party behind you any mind.

One of your favorite parts about the summer time was the cookouts. There was something about nearly the entire town coming together at someone’s house, enjoying the warm weather, the bright sun and good food, that made your heart burst with excitement.

You were just about ready to make your way to your backyard with the others, when you felt a firm hand sliding against your waist, smoothing down over the fabric of your flower sun dress and pulling you into their chest.

“Don’t you think we have enough drinks baby?” Ellie hums out softly, pressing her lips against the base of your neck, making you giggle softly as you lean into her.

“It’s almost 100 degrees outside, Ellie…I don’t think too many things to drink is even a possibility” you explain before you turn around in her arms, smiling softly at the firm as you wrap your arms around her neck, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of her lips.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on the grill? You better not burn all that food I bought” you playfully pinch her shoulder, which only makes her groan softly.

“It’s too hotttt….wanna be inside with you” she whines out, resting her head against your shoulder as she gently sways with you in the kitchen.

You hum as you nod, your fingers toying with the short hair at the nape of her neck. “I know baby….but your father will be very upset if he doesn’t have at least one beer with you…come on pretty girl” you hum out to her softly, your hands sliding down to hold her around her middle before giving her a gentle pinch near her ribs, which makes her yelp out as she pulls away, a prominent pout on her sun burnt, freckled face.

“Fine…but come out with me” she huffs out, leaning in to give your forehead a kiss before she makes her way outside, making you giggle softly.

You sigh softly to yourself, placing the lemonade on a small tray paired with some already filled red solo cups, and a few empty ones on the side that you knew would be getting filled up shortly after you brought them out. You had to move slowly with how full they were, groaning softly to yourself as you tried your best to not let them fall as you tried making your way through the crowd of people in your home.

“Oh honey let me help you with that!” You hear Lilac chirp out as she quickly comes behind you, pressing her hands against your waist before taking the heavy pitcher off of the tray, making you sigh in relief once you saw the girl.

“There you are! I was starting to think you wouldn’t show…” you pout out, smiling softly as the girl leaned in to press a friendly kiss to your cheek, which you were quick to lean into as well.

She giggled softly as she groaned. “Did you know that this party of yours is causin’ traffic out there?? Everyone’s dying to come, I almost ran out with the rollers still in my hair” she explains, making you giggle softly as she opened up your back door for you.

After everything happened with you and Ellie, you were terrified of what would happen with Lilac. You felt like you’d robbed the girl of something she wanted without even trying, even after being the one to tell her to go for it! Even after Ellie assured you time and time again that Lilac was always one to get innocent crushes on everyone, and that she’d get over it in no time, you were still scared that you’d lose the girl as a friend after just making her one.

You were quickly proven wrong when you met her in town a few days after, texting her and letting her know you had something to tell her. Instead of her being upset about you and Ellie, Lilac was thrilled. She grabbed you and hugged you, and told you that she even wanted to celebrate with you and Ellie, explaining that her crush was as innocent as could be.

And before you could even realize, Lilac had become your best friend.

You giggle softly as the children practically jumped you once they saw the tall pitcher of ice cold lemonade, frantically grabbing the cups and chugging them down before running off to play in the sun.

Catching sight of Ellie with her father and a few of her coworkers makes your heart flutter, and you decide to fill up a few more cups of the cold drink as you make your way over to them, a soft smile on your face.

“Lemonade anyone?” You chirp out softly, all of them taking them gladly before Ellie slung her arm around your waist, pulling you into her side as she pressed a kiss to the side of your head, carrying on with her conversation.

You don’t miss the way Joel smiles fondly at the two of you over the edge of his cup.

And later that night, when everyone’s left and the house is cleaned up, you lay with Ellie in your bed, the cool breeze blowing in through your windows, your bedroom illuminated by the white light of the moon.

You’re tucked away into Ellie’s side, your thigh hooked over her body, one of her hands rubbing along your skin and massaging your leg, the other looped around your shoulder as you stare up at her lovingly, your hand dancing along her t shirt clad chest.

“Did you have fun today?” You question softly, which earns a gentle smile from the girl before she looks down at you, giving you a slight nod.

“The best time baby….haven’t seen so many people gathered around for a party in a long time…you did good angel” she breaths out before she leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, which makes you smile warmly.

But the warmth doesn’t just settle in your cheeks.

A simple kiss from your girlfriend makes it travel down your body. It warms your throat, your chest, your stomach, traveling all the way down until it settles right in between your legs, making you clear your throat to bite back a whimper.

Ellie frowns softly when she notices this, pulling away to look down at you as she continues massaging your thigh. “Something wrong princess?” She questions, slight concern lacing her tone as she watches you with furrowed brows, her expression clear in the light of the moon.

When you and Ellie first started being romantic again, she promised you she’d take things slow. Your relationship only went far as kissing, a few gropes here and there, but nothing further than a steamy make out session that ended once Ellie tapped your thighs and forced you off of her lap, fearing that she was pushing you too far.

At first it was extremely considerate of her. It was true, intimacy was a bit hard for you at first, somehow thinking of your failed relationship every time you tried, blaming your self for not pleasing your wife enough.

But as time went on, those thoughts were virtually silenced. You didn’t even have the capacity to think of anything but Ellie when her tongue was down your throat, the feeling of her big hands on your body, and her toned thighs pressed between your legs.

So now…God…you needed her more than anything.

You were almost embarrassed to even say it, but it was getting to a point that anything Ellie did was setting you into a frenzy. Just today, her toned arms in here wife pleaser and her denim jeans made your head spin, and your panties cling to your needy core.

Her frown deepened when you didn’t answer, the girl turning over a bit to better face you before her hand came up to cup your cheek. “Baby? What’s the matter?” She questions once again.

You finally let out a soft sigh, eyes fluttering shut as you reach up to grab her wrist gently, keeping her close as you avoid looking into her eyes.

“I….need you Ellie…need you so bad” you sigh out softly, voice barely above a whisper.

Her frown only deepens further as she stares at you down in confusion. “Need me? But angel I’m right-“ her words are cut off when she feels your grip on her wrist tighten, and your thigh hikes up her body further, pressing your core against her side.

Her eyes widen in realization.

“Fuck…” she breaths out, watches as your eyes flutter open to stare into her own, yours filled with want and need as your other hand moves down to hold onto her exposed hip gently.

“Are you sure baby? We can…fuck…we don’t have to…” she struggles to get out, eyes glued to yours as she watches you.

You shake your head before you gently pry her hand from your face, bringing her fingers down to press against your lips before you sigh. “I’ve thought about you every day since I’ve left Ellie…of course I’m sure…” you sigh out softly before you open your mouth, taking her pointer and middle finger into your mouth as you slowly suck them in, moaning around them.

Ellie lets out a soft moan as she watches you, feeling her own clit pulse against her underwear as she quickly grows warm with a need similar to yours.

“That’s my girl…fuck….been needy huh?” She moans out, making you nod before you roll over to straddle her, her other hand coming down to grip your hip softly, massaging your skin through the fabric of her own t shirt draped over your body.

You let go of her fingers with a pop before you stare down at her, a soft smile on your face as you move down to press your lips against hers, wasting no time in pushing your tongue into her mouth.

The kiss is slow, and sensual and dirty and it’s everything you’ve wanted and needed since your divorce. It’s nothing like kissing your ex wife, but it’s everything like kissing Ellie. The noises she makes has your head spinning, and it forces you to roll your hips down onto her, which makes her moan even louder into your mouth.

“Fuck…want you to…wanna feel your pussy on mine baby…can you do that for me?” She questions out desperately, her hands roaming your body, pushing her t shirt up on your to reveal your tits.

Ellie had it all planned out. She wanted it to be romantic, she wanted to take things slow and show you just how much she loved you, just how serious she was about you. She wanted you to feel loved.

Oh did her plans not go as planned, but oh how you felt so fucking loved.

You nod eagerly, sitting up and tugging the t shirt off, tossing it somewhere in your room. Ellie moans loudly at the sight of you above her, hands reaching up and cupping either one of your boobs, pinching and rolling your nipples between her fingers.

Once she’s had her fun, you climb off of her for a moment, tugging off her panties, giving her time to tug her sleep shorts off as well, leaving you naked and her bottom half bare. She’s feverishly tugging you back onto her lap, allowing you to tug her t shirt off.

And the feeling of your bare chest pressed against hers makes you moan loudly, your lips coming down again to press a needy kiss to hers, filled with tongue and teeth as you both situate yourselves.

The moment comes quickly, your legs slotted between hers perfectly, pussy right on top of hers as she stares up at you with low, hazy eyes, strong hands gripping your thighs and your ass as you slowly began rolling your hips so that your throbbing clit bumps against hers, making the girl beneath you moan loudly as her back arches and her eyes flutter shut.

“F-fuck! Oh my….fuuuuckkkk…that’s it baby…fuck yourself down onto my pussy…oh my….ha-fuck” she moans out, voice going hoarse as her strong fingers press firmly into your skin, sure to leave marks in the morning.

Your moans mix with hers, paired with the sound of your sopping wet pussies sliding against one another, a symphony of erotic love making that has been a long time coming. It’s like the two of you let out every raw emotion that had been bottled up for all those years you spent apart, her longing, your hurt, it all mixes together to create something of a beautiful love song that belongs to the two of you, and no one else.

“Ellieee…fuck! Feels…feels so good..” you moan out, picking up the pace as you feel your orgasm growing closer and closer by the second, your bed creaking with every thrust of your hips.

Ellie can’t take it anymore, moving to sit up as she grips both of your hips, aiding you in riding her pussy faster before she gives you an encouraging nod. “Come on baby…cum with me, yeah?” She sighs out breathlessly, staring up into your eyes passionately as she feels her own orgasm growing closer.

You wrap your arms around her shoulders, keeping her closer as you moan and whine, eyebrows furrowing with pleasure as you struggle to make it there, struggle to not let the pleasure get the best of you.

Your heart feels like it’ll just burst.

“I…mmm…fuck….Ellie I love you…I love you so much…” you moan out, eyes fluttering shut as you feel right on the brink of your orgasm.

“That’s my fucking girl…I love you so much baby…more than you’ll ever know…” she moans out to you.

And suddenly, you see colors.

Your chest feels like you’ve been struck by lightening, struggling to even stay upright as your orgasm ripples through your body violently, your forehead resting against Ellie’s as your arousal mixes with hers, both of your orgasms so intense, so powerful, it feels like it’ll kill you both right then and there.

The come down is hard, because it’s almost sorrowful to no longer feel the amazing feeling that comes with making love to Ellie, but the feeling of her strong arms wrapping around your middle and keeping you close is almost better, her lips pressing against your collar bones and chest as you both breath hard, the room silent compared to the noise that once filled it.

She holds you there the entire time, whispering how much she loves you, promising you that she’ll give you everything you could ever want and need.

And while you’ve heard all of that before, just for it to end in shit….

You believe her, because this time? It’ll be different.

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x y/n #ellie the last of us #ellie x you

[worldofkuro]

Painted Smile

Painted Smile XXII

<- Previous Chapter I Next Chapter ->

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: Well, folks. It took us 22 chapters, but here it is. I was strangely emotional during this chapter, would you feel the same? I wonder... Please, tell me your thoughts!

You looked around you, curiously. You were in Alastor’s basement, sitting on a chair as he was preparing to invoke the last spirit he needed to bound your soul together. From what he told you, he just needed to talk with the spirit to finally know what was needed. 

This week has been hectic so far. you had to prepare the wedding, writing the invitations once you had found the place where it would happen. You were looking for a cake, Alastor would like, and also other sweets for the guests. Alastor also had his own schedules, he was busy with work and the organization of your wedding with the mayor. You didn’t even manage to see each other that much, but Alastor would always try to come at night, even if you were asleep, so he could rest with you, two or three hours before leaving.

Which brings you to where you were right now.  Alastor placed a cup of black coffee on a table with a cigar and wrote symbols with chalk on the walls. You bit your lips, you never saw another spirit than Papa Legba, would you be able to see this one?

“ Are you nervous?” Alastor asked, walking toward you. You tilted your head backward so he could kiss your lips multiple times. You hummed against his lips, stroking his cheeks with your hands.

“ A little. I’ve never seen another spirit… And this one, is supposed to be the one who controls death… This is a little scary.” You pecked his lips as he chuckled.

“ You don’t have to be there.”

“ I want to.” you smiled at him. “ Can you just… Explain to me who you are going to meet.”

“ Of course, dearest. Baron Samedi is invoked to contact and communicate with the dead, he determines whether they can come visit or not. He may be asked to remove bothersome ghosts and invoked to ward off death. He is a powerful healer. Baron Samedi rules the cemetery: no one can die until he gives permission for their grave to be dug.” He stroked your cheeks, staring at your eyes. “ I don’t know if you are going to be able to see him… “

You squeezed his hands with a confident smile.

“ Do everything so nothing could tear us apart.”

He kissed you deeply before walking in front of the table with the offerings. You bit your nails as Alastor began to talk. Everything was going to go smoothly. You didn’t know if the spirit could curse you because you were too greedy about each other. 

You blinked when you felt yourself becoming dizzy. You tried to stare at Alastor as you saw him stumble. He was holding his head which immediately made you worry. You stood up and walked clumsily toward him.

“ Alastor…”

“ Are you okay, dearest?” You felt his hand grab yours.

“ Aren’t you adorable ?”

You both turned around toward the table where a man was smoking the cigar that Alastor had put on the table, a moment ago, staring at you with an amused smile. The genlteman looked like an older, dark-skinned man in formal attire, dressed completely in black. He was wearing a black top hat, black suit and impenetrable black sunglasses which were missing a lens.

“ You asked for me?” he smirked before sitting on a chair, taking the cup of coffee. “ Well, I already know why. It’s not everyday I see Papa Legba and Kalfu in the same room. How are you doing, my good fellows?”

You blinked before looking behind you and saw Papa Legba, smoking his pipe while staring at you, with his usual warm expression. His back was against the wall, seeming completely calm. 

“ It is nice to see you again, little lady.” he nodded toward you which made you wave shyly at him. “ And it is nice to finally meet you, Alastor.”

You looked at Alastor who was staring at Papa Legba, his eyes wide opened. You didn’t know what he was feeling right now and that was stressing you out. You squeezed his hand in your but freezed when you felt a cold presence next to you.

“ Must be nice to finally meet me, right,  little missy?” 

You turned your eyes toward the voice and yelped when you saw a man crouching next to you, his red eyes staring at you with a mocking smile. He looked like Papa Legba but his frame seemed more muscular and his expressions weren’t welcoming like the spirit you were now used to working with.

You felt so…little. 

“ Well, it’s nice to finally meet all of you, gentlemen.” You heard Alastor talk with his usual confidence. “ I didn’t expect to have all of you with us today, but it might be for the best.” He beamed at the spirits as he took a chair to sit down.

“ You truly have beautiful eyes.” you turned around as you felt your hair being touched. You looked at The Baron Samedi who was looking at you, still seeming amused. You took a step back before being tugged on Alastor’s laps. You looked down and smiled softly at his shadow which was frowning, keeping its hand around your waist.

“ You really didn’t change, Alastor !” Baron Samedi laughed before sitting on the table, smoking his cigar. “ I used to heal you when you were unconscious after your father was done punishing you, your Mother was always asking for my help, what a caring woman.” 

You felt Alastor tensed underneath you. You stroked his hand while staring at the three spirits in front of you. You were lost for words, you didn't know which question to ask.

“ Well, it’s not for being healed that I called you.”

“ ‘I’ ? Boy, you didn't call me all alone. Your darling is also in it.”

“ Nonsense. She didn’t prepare anything to summon you.” Said Alastor, his smile twitching. You knew he didn’t like when you were with him and he didn’t have full control on the situation. But you were confused.

“ Why? Am I connected to Alastor in some way?” 

“ Well, little lady, of course. If not, why would you be able to see me, summon me or even work with spirits?” Papa Legba asked you with his usual calming voice.

“ Alastor already created some kind of bond between the two of you, but you already saw it, right little missy?” Kalfu smirked at you, making you shiver. He looked dangerous. 

“ What are you talking about?” You asked, squeezing Alastor’s hand.

“ When you asked for your soul to leave your body to see Alastor. Didn’t you see a red thread linking you to him?”

Your eyes widened. Was that the bond? But you and Alastor didn’t make the ritual. You just thought it was guiding you toward your fiancée, nothing more. You could feel Alastor’s stare on you, stroking your thigh, surely trying to calm you.

“ But… It was so.. weak?”

“ Of course!” Laughed Baron Samedi. “ Alastor bound you the first time he tried to summon our dear Papa Legba, he had a tissue with your blood on it. Blood is really important here. That’s why when Alastor summoned Legba, he went toward you because the first thing he felt was your blood.”

“ And then, I came in, because I wanted to work with Alastor. This boy has a lot of potential.” Kalfu smirked. “ It’s in his blood.”

You looked at Alastor who was still smiling but you could see conflict in his eyes.

“ Then, how did the bound apparead when I didn’t do anything to make it happen?” Asked Alastor, looking at the spirits. 

“ Well, like Kalfu told you, you have huge potential. You could have created the bond, you already had summoned me and him. You made the first step but stopped when you made a deal with Kalfu for power. That is why, right now, your bond is half-made.” Legba said, inhaling smoke from his pipe. “ But now, your other half is working with me, which makes you, in a twisted way, work with me.”

“ But you told me you would cut our deal if I were to work with..Kalfu?” you asked, feeling more confused as time was passing. “ Alastor is working with him, and yet..?”

“ Of course, little lady. Even if your control on your spirit is impressive, it’s not in your blood. You can do all that because Alastor ‘tainted’ it. If he were at his most powerful, and your bond were created, you would have maybe half of his abilities. Your body wouldn’t be able to take more.” He said to you with a sad smile. “ You would lose yourself to the spirits and end up mad.”

“ Or dead with me!” said Baron Samedi with a laugh which echoed in the basement. “ I’m joking, Alastor.” he smirked when he saw Alastor’s hand clenching on your waist. 

You looked at your hands, your spirit was already giving much more than needed to protect yourself and Alastor. You just needed another thing… You looked up to Baron Samedi who whistled.

“ Ooh, red eyes? Sexy~ Tell me.” 

“ You said you had the power to heal, right?” You waited for him to nod. “ I want it.”

You heard Kalfu laugh like a madman while Baron Samedi was looking at you, up and down, thinking about your demands. He asked you why, in a more serious tone.

“ I asked Papa Legba to have power so I could protect Alastor, I don’t need anything more. I can protect him but I know I’m going to fail him one day, I need to be able to help him more if he happens to be injured.” You said, you voice firm.

“ So, you would want to work with me, for my healing capacity? You know, it’s different from working with Legba? You are asking a skill of mine. Papa Legba just gives access to a spirit to work with you, the spirit chooses when to go back, if Legba allows it,  unless you ask him to leave. You’re asking for a power that belongs to no small spirits, the price will hurts.”

“ Then, she doesn’t need it.” said Alastor, forcing you to look at him. “ I won’t need this power, who could hurt me?” He asked you with his usual charming and confident smile.

“ Please… Having this would put my mind at ease…” You sighed before standing up, looking at Baron Samedi who seemed in deep thought. You could feel Alastor’s shadow rooting you in place. You looked at Papa Legba for advice. “ What are your thoughts?”

“ I think it might be a great idea. “

Your eyes widened, you didn’t expect that and it seemed like Alastor and Baron Samedi were as surprised as you.

“ Her deal with me is to protect Alastor, if she keeps this power for Alastor’s use, I would allow it.” He nodded. “ It doesn’t break any rules.”

“ Then, she needs to be able to heal herself too. You told me I would be able to use her abilities but it seemed like it’s not going to happen any time soon. So I need her to be able to heal herself in case anything were to happen.”

“ When you will be powerful enough, trust me, Legba’s protégée won’t be able to do anything against you. You could just use the shadow to bring her to you.” Kalfu smirked, staring at Legba with a competitive glint in his eyes. 

You stared at Alastor who looked at you with an obsessive glint in his eyes. You bit your lips, being at Alastor’s mercy was… exciting. But you wouldn’t go down without a fight.

“ So, I’m sharing my healing power with our little doll?” asked Baron Samedi with a smirk. “ Well, why not, I can’t wait to work with you. You shall be able to heal yourself and Alastor.” he stretched his hand toward you. 

You looked at his hand. That was pure madness.

You shook his hand, staring at him.

You felt power invade you, swirling around you, making your hair move in the air.  You could feel the energy going from your hands towards your eyes, it was a strange sensation. You were used to Legba’s warmth when you were calling him but right now, you could feel only coldness in your veins and your eyes. 

You opened your eyes and looked at Baron Samedi who was grinning, holding a mirror in front of you.

“ A pleasure to work with you, doll.”

You looked at your red eyes which had now a purple hue inside them. You looked at Alastor who immediately took your face in his hands, staring at you. He frowned, keeping his smile, before wiping blood from your nose. You smiled at him to reassure him, you were feeling surprisingly great, exhausted but good.

“ Beautiful.” 

You grinned at him, feeling your cheeks warm as he looked at you with so many emotions.

“ Well, before leaving. Should we talk about the rituals?”

You sat on the chair and looked at the four men talking, you couldn’t hear anything. You were so tired… You should close your eyes for a minute, it should be enough. You couldn’t believe it, you were now someone who could heal… You wondered what kind of injuries, you should ask them…

“ Darling, open your eyes.”

You opened your eyes and smiled at Alastor before looking around, confused when you saw the empty basement. The only thing that remained from the spirits was the smell of tobacco. You looked at Alastor.

“ Did I fall asleep?”

“ I’m afraid you did, dearest.” He kissed your forehead with a soft gaze. “ We should sleep.”

You looked at his face, he seemed exhausted too. You nodded and stood up, walking out of the basement, walking toward his bedroom. You took Eamon in your arms, signing in bliss. After all those years, your plushie was still there.  

“ Undress, dear.”

You whined but undressed quickly, throwing your dress on his chair with the rest of your clothes. You bury yourself under the cover, trying to stay awake until you felt Alastor’s warmth against your back.

“ Is everything ready for the ritual..?” you asked, yawning. 

“ Yes, you don’t have to do anything.” He kissed your naked shoulder. “ You just have to think about the wedding.”

You nodded before falling asleep in your fiancée’s arms.

—------

“ I’m doing her makeup, back off woman, back off!”

You  laughed as Alice kicked off the woman who was supposed to do your makeup. You were in front of a big mirror in your wedding dress.

Today was the day you were to be wed to Alastor.

You looked as Alice came toward you to do your makeup and your hair. She had a big smile on her lips, her sapphire eyes shining with pure joy. You were touched that she was this happy for you.

“ I think we should do your hair up,showing off your neck and shoulders. You don’t have any hickeys, right?” She mocked you.

You rolled your eyes, chuckling. Of course not, you and Alastor haven’t seen each other for three days straight. You have told him that the groom wasn’t supposed to see the bride before the wedding or bad luck would be cast upon the married couple. He did laugh at you but you were now working with spirits so you didn’t want any chance with karma!

 However, Alastor did send his shadow toward you sometimes or he would stay under your window and you would both talk without looking at each other.  He did try to tempt you into giving up this silly traduction and just join him, but for once, you didn’t fall for his sweet words even if it was difficult. Alastor had his way with words after all, resisting him was very hard, and you did miss him.

“ You are going to look amazingly beautiful. You are going to take their breath away.”

Alice had a cute pink dress with pink and blue makeup, she looked beautiful. You knew Alyzée would just melt at her sight. 

After a little while you opened your eyes and gasped as you saw yourself in the mirror. You didn’t think you ever felt this beautiful. Alice really had a way to show people’s best traits. You stood up and turned around when you heard the door open and smiled when you saw your mother and father.

“ Oh, my little girl…” Your father walked toward you and hugged you gently. You were feeling so emotional but you couldn’t cry, you didn’t have the time to redo it again! “ Yesterday you were still calling me your prince charming.”

You laughed, hugging your mother who already had tears in her eyes.

“ Oh, sweetie. You look beautiful. Bravo, Alice. She looks even more breathtaking than usual.” 

“ I didn’t have to do much, really.” She waved her hand , smirking at you.

You rolled your eyes at her, smiling widely.

“ Is it time yet?”

“ Can I have just one moment with you before we leave for the aisle?” asked your father, taking your hands in his. You nodded, looking at your mother and Alice leaving you alone. “ I talked with Alastor.”

“ You tried to scare him?” you chuckled which made him laugh.

“ No, no. I made him make a promise. If he ever, which I don’t think is possible but, if he ever happened to lose feeling for you, I asked him to brough you back home. He doesn't need to hurt you because he lost feelings, I just asked him to take you home. You will always be my little girl, at your lowest I will be proud of you, at your best I will also be proud. Never doubt that you will always be welcome home as long as we are alive.” 

You tried so hard not to cry. You were this close to tell him everything, about the murders and everything but you held your tongue. You hugged your father tightly, those words smooth something inside you, you didn't even know needed to be appeased. 

“ I love you Dad.”

“ I love you too.” he kissed your forehead, wiping his tears. “ Ready for your future ?” he smiled at you.

You nodded, taking the bouquet before holding onto your father’s arm. You walked down the stairs, trying to calm your breathing. Your father put your veil in front of your face. You found that ironic. Everyone would see you with this mask on and the only one who was going to accept your twisted self was the one who was going to take the veil to truly see you.

Your father opened two big doors in front of you as the music started playing. You began to walk down the aisle, looking at the people around you. You smiled as you saw your mother wiping her eyes while Alice was almost sobbing on Alyzée’s shoulder. You watched as Mimzy gave you a thumbs up which made you chuckle.

And then you saw him.

Alastor was standing properly, his arms behind his back, his hair slicked back like you loved it. You couldn’t see much because of the veil but you thought you saw a curly lock on his forehead. 

Your father stopped next to Alastor, giving you to him.

You slid your hand into Alastor’s, shivering as you finally felt his touch after three days away from him. You saw his hand twitched before reaching for your veil, before lifting it so he could see you. You smiled warmly at him as you saw his eyes widened as he saw your face.

“ Who blessed me with you, I wonder…”

You didn’t want to cry right now. You were just feeling emotional, that was it!

You turned toward Alyzée’s father who began his speech. You weren’t really listening to his words, all of your attention was on Alastor’s hand who was stroking your hands. You didn’t notice but it was time to tell your vows. You turned toward Alastor, your eyes already wet from tears you refused to shed. 

Alastor was staring at you with a soft smile and a fond gaze. He chuckled when he saw your face.

“ I shall begin. We all know she is the most emotional between the two of us.” he smirked when the crowd laughed fondly. “ Dearest…”

You sniffed. There it was.

“  I don’t think I can recall a day where you weren’t at my side. Your voice is the best melody I can remember, your touch healed much more than any doctors could have achieved.  You are the first who showed me genuine emotions, you never hide yourself from me and the most important… I never felt the need to hide myself from you.”

You felt your lips wobble.

“ You waited, dearest, you waited for me to open myself to you, which is admirable in a lot of ways. But what was more important for me is that you didn't run away. You accepted me.” he kissed the back of your hand, keeping his eyes on yours. “ You decided to put your trust in me even though what we share isn’t what you used to believe in, right?” he chucked as you nodded with a shaky laugh. “ What I’m willing to give you is much more than what you have ever read, ever seen, ever experimented with. Death itself couldn’t tear us apart, I swear it , my love.”

You sobbed, your head bowing as you heard the new nickname. You tried to find something to wipe your tears and thanked Alice when she gave you a tissue. You looked at her and laughed a little when you saw she was sobbing  just like you. 

You tried to wipe the tears without running the makeup. You looked at Alastor who stared at you, caressing your cheek.

“ I shall love you in the way you accepted. In sickness, in health, poor, rich, I do not care. As long as you are by my side, this life is worth living.”

You smiled at him, tears gathering once more in your eyes. You saw Marie crying as everyone was clapping after Alastor’s speech. You bit your lips before taking a deep breath.

“ Alastor.” you smiled at him. “ I always thought I would have to learn how to love, that is one of the reasons I began to read romance books. And yet, I don’t think I ever question what was happening between us. I did wonder what it was called, but I didn’t have to learn to love you.” You shakily took a deep breath as you saw Alastor beamed at your words. “ It was just like breathing, it was natural.”

You squeezed his hands.

“ Being by your side is just like an evidence. Every choice I made until today, I don’t regret any of them. My heart, my mind, my soul is yours. Hell or Heaven, I know that if  we are together, no obstacles could bring us down. “ You felt tears in your eyes once more, your voice trembling. “ I love you so much, it might cost me my sanity, my love.”

You gasped as Alastor tugged you against him, caging you in his arms and squeezing you. You heard the crowd clapped as you hugged him as tight as you could. You took a step back after a moment, wiping your tears without running your makeup. You looked at the mayor who asked for the rings. You smiled when you saw your cousin’s child bring them with a happy grin.

You took the ring as Alastor did the same before sliding it on your finger. You did the same before taking his hands with yours. 

“ Alastor Sanglar do you take as your wife, Miss-”

“ I do.”

You chuckled as the crowd laughed. Alastor smiled at you, his eyes shining with so much emotion that were just for you. You felt like you could faint from happiness. 

“ Well, someone is eager!” the mayor laughed before looking at you. “ Do you take Alastor Sanglar as your husband?”

“ I do.”

“ I declare you husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride.”

You smiled as Alastor tugged you toward him, kissing you like tomorrow wouldn’t exist. You felt tears on your cheeks once more as you held his face between your hands. You broke the kiss, staying near him as the crowd was shouting and clapping.

“ I love you, Alastor.. I love you, I love you..” you whispered against his lips.

“ I love you, dearest, in a way that no human would dare to love.” he whispered back, making you kiss him one more time. 

You turned toward the crowd with a big smile. You looked at Alice who was clapping like her death was depending on it. Alyzée gave you a shy smile while Mimzy was winking at you, still giving you a thumb up.

You walked out of the town hall, holding on to your husband’s arms. You stayed on the stairs as journalists took pictures of you and Alastor. You laughed when the women were asking you to throw the bouquet. You turned your back to the crowd, closed your eyes and threw it.

“ Oh my gosh!”

You turned around and screamed in glee when you saw Alice with the bouquet. She walked toward you and hugged you, sniffing.

“ I’m so happy for you, sweetie.” she said.

You hugged her tighter before looking at the car, stopping in front of you. Alastor took your hand and guided you toward the vehicle before opening the door for you. The reception was going to happen in one of Alice’s father’s hotels, so you needed a car to go there but…

“ Is it our car..?”

“ A gift from Alyzée’s father.” he winked at you before you entered the car, Alastor closing the door behind you. He settled behind the wheel and began to drive until your destination.

“ I feel like I’m dreaming…” you sighed in bliss. 

“ I don’t think I ever felt this… happy.” you looked at Alastor who almost seemed confused. “ Even killing my father didn’t bring me this much joy. You really are something, my love.” he smirked as he parked in the hotel’s parking lot.

Once everyone has arrived you all went into the banquet hall. You looked at all the tables and the band that was on stage, preparing themselves. You sat next to Alastor as Alice walked toward you with a piece of paper.

She did a speech, an emotional sarcastic speech. You almost cried when she was talking about your friendship with her and how lucky she was to have you in her life. You did cry though when she shed a few tears and once she finished her speech you both fell into each other's arms. 

Mimzy also did a speech for Alastor, thanking him for being a friend , a gentleman she could trust.  

You almost bawled when Marie walked to do a speech. You felt Alastor’s grip on your hand tightened.

“ Mon bébé… Not everything has been easy, I’m well aware. You always asked me what you could do to make me smile, to make me happy.Well, mon coeur, by being happy, you make me the happiest mother on earth. Je t’aime, quoi qu’il puisse arriver, tu seras toujours mon fils que j’aime.”

You wiped your eyes but almost sobbed when you saw Alastor’s eyes beginning to have tears. You leaned against him, sniffling. At the end of Marie’s speech, you let his hand go as he stood up and walked toward his mother before hugging her tightly against him. 

You clapped with everyone as they stayed in each other's arms for a few minutes. When Alastor came back to you, you kissed his cheek with a soft smile. He gave you a vulnerable smile before taking your hand in his.

You looked as Alice’s father walked toward you.

“ Well, I do not know Alastor, but I know a woman who has always been by my daughter's side. No matter what was going on, she would take my daughter’s side. As a thank you, for being yourself, Mr and Mrs Sanglar, please accept as a wedding gift the house we wanted to sell.”

You almost fell from your chair as gasps could be heard around the room. Your eyes were wide open, you looked at Alice who seemed as shocked as you.

“ This is too much..!”

“ Please, it’s really a pleasure to give you such a gift.”

You looked at Alastor who seemed surprised too. He composed himself quicker than you and thanked the man, shaking his hand with a firm grip.

“ Well, now, we shall see the married one dance! Band, some music, please!”

Alastor guided you toward the dancefloor as a soft song began to be played. You danced with Alastor, never breaking eye contact with him.  He was moving you against him until he made a gesture to the band who began to change the music, they were now playing jazz.

You smiled widely at Alastor as you both began to dance, twirling, being lifted in the air, under everyone’s eyes. No one could detach their gaze from your. 

After a while, couples began to come dancing, you smiled when you saw Marie walking toward Alastor who gently took his mother for a slow dance. You danced with your father, his eyes still full of emotions.

You danced with Alice, with Alyzée, with Marie, with Victor, with Alastor. You danced until it was dark outside.

After a while you decided to take a break. You held your dress and left the party. You left the hotel, looking at the sky. You could already feel Alastor’s shadow behind you.

“ Mom, look, a princess !” You looked at a child who was pointing toward you.

“ No, she is a bride, my sweet.” she waved at you before leaving as you waved at the child.

You smiled as you closed your eyes, savoring the fresh air.

“ You look beautiful.”

You opened your eyes slowly and looked at John who was next to you. You didn't feel any anger, today was an amazing day that no one could ruin, spirits or humans.

“ Thank you.”

“ I…I’m here on behalf of my parents. Even if our friendship is no longer… They still wanted to congratulate you for your wedding, here.” he gave you a letter which you took. “ I’m not going to ruin your day so.. Goodbye.”

“ Are you going to finally leave Alastor and me alone?” you whispered but you knew he heard it because he froze.

“ … Goodnight Mrs. Sanglar.”

You watched him leave before going back to your wedding party. You smiled when you saw Alastor with a glass of whiskey , chatting with people. He looked at you as you entered the room, asking with his eyes if you were okay. You nodded before walking toward Alice who was drinking wine.

“ There she is ! Come on, girl ! You have your own home! Your own car! Your own husband!” she exclaimed while giving you a glass you quickly drank. You smiled at her.

“ I’m so happy I could faint.”

“ Please, don’t.”

You drank with Alice and Alyzée, even your mother and Marie joined you. After a moment, Alice and you went to the balcony so you two could speak. You weren’t sober anymore so you both were walking with difficulty which made you both laugh.

“ So~ Can’t wait for the honeymoon~?”

“ I don’t even know how I managed to not jump on him.” you giggled drunkenly with Alice.

“ Who are we talking about?”

You smiled as you turned around and saw a smiling Alastor.

“ We are talking about my husband.”

“ What a lucky fella! May I know what he looks like?” he smiled as Alice winked at you before leaving.

“ He looks… like sin.” you whispered as you stared at him. “ You shouldn’t be this close to me, you don’t want to meet his wrath.”

“ I’ll try my luck.” He kissed you, making you feel lighthearted. You grabbed his shoulder as you moaned his name. “ You’re finally my wife.” He looked at your ring.

“ You’re finally my husband.” you kissed his lips one more time as you both stared at each other with so much passion, tenderness, obsession, lust and love, it would almost make you faint.

“ I love you.”

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[sterredem]

GIRLFRIEND

Olivia Rodrigo x Fem!Ferrari!Driver!Reader

Face claim Pinterest girls

Warning Gay couple(?), not proofread

Summary When you try to hard launch your relationship it seems to be that no one believes you.

A/N I like this a lot. It is a bit lengthy but I love it. Also I removed Carlos Sainz because I needed a place and Ferrari was the best with the options. So the reader will replace him.

Also I tried something new with writing for a girl so lmk know if you want more fem!driver x famous girl fics!

I hope y’all like it!

Don’t forget to Repost, comment and give Feadback! It helps a lot!

Instagram

Liked by Yourusername and 6.835.836 others

OliviaRodrigo Thank you so much Antwerp you were a dream! Amsterdam here we come!

View all 10.836 comments

Conangray She’s on the moon!

OliviaRodrigo 🌕🌙

SabrinaCarpenter Pop princess

OliviaRodrigo Says you

Yourusername Wow what a beauty

Yourusername Loved seeing you! Liked by author

User1 I GOT TO SEE YOU!

User2 Anyone saw Y/n’s deleted comments?!

User3 OMG YES! I THOUGHT IT WAS JUST ME!

User4 god, she’s hot

User5 Wait Y/n went? How she has a race tomorrow?!

User6 multitasking queen

User7 I love you💜

User8 I love her friendship with other singers💕

User9 How does she know Y/n? I am genuinely curious because I love them both.

User10 They met through Gracie because Gracie and Y/n went to the same school and then Gracie introduced them. Now they are really good friends

User12 I LOVED THE SHOW!

User13 you killed it!

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Instagram

Liked by OliviaRodrigo and 2.736.936 others

Yourusername Had a great time at the GUTS Tour! Thank you so much for the invite liv!Also some pictures with Ferrari stud bc I drive cars or something…

View all 12.836 comments

OliviaRodrigo I’m glad you enjoyed it! Liked by author

OliviaRodrigo You are so hot

Charles_Leclerc …Driving cars or something????

Charles_Leclerc also don’t we have a race tomorrow?

Yourusername Yes! But I can multitask!

Scuderia_Ferrari … were glad you enjoyed your time…? And good that you wore the jacket and posted your car…?

Yourusername Exactly!

User1 OMG YOU ARE A LIVIE?!

Yourusername YES! Always and forever!

User2 LIV?!?! WHAT IS THIS?!

User3 OMG I STOOD NEXT TO YOU!!

User4 Love the outfit!

User5 anyone see Olivia’s deleted comments liked by 1.837 others

User6 Not the thing about the cars😂 so unserious🤣

User7 I love you!

User8 Aren’t you tired? You have media day tomorrow and the day after FP1 and FP2

Yourusername As I said ✨multisasking✨

User9 I love her friendship with Olivia!

User10 SHE WENT TO THE TOUR?!

User11 she really is a girls girl

User12 not the work with fun😂

User13 IM IN LOVE WITH YOU!

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Instagram

Liked by OliviaRodrig and 1.173.736 others

Yourusername Forza Ferrari! A little photo dump of Imola before Monaco. Saw a lot of red, but it suits me so that’s a plus.

View all 9.736 comments

Scuderia_Ferrari Forza Ferrari!

Charles_Leclerc Red!

User1 gorgeous

User2 Why is Olivia liking a post that has nothing to do with her?!

User3 prolly because they are friends

User4 Good luck in Monaco!

User5 ❤️

User6 P5! In the points!

User7 So happy to see more women in motorsports!

User8 What do you think about Charles adopting Oscar?

User9 You’re so pretty!

User10 Red does really looks good on you!

User11 good luck this weekend!

User12 I love the GenZ energy

User13 Favourite driver ever

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Instagram

Yourusername posted a story

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Twitter

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Instagram

Liked by OliviaRodrigo and 2.836.837 others

Yourusername P3🏆 happy with the results and very happy for Charles and the team! Congratulations!

View all 9.736 comments

Charles_Leclerc couldn’t have done it without you!

Scuderia_Ferrari A grat race again Y/n!

OliviaRodrigo Great job! Liked by author

User1 P3!

User2 Great job! Ready for the next posium!

User3 Olivia is earlier than me and I have notifications on?!

User4 so true! I love their friendship!

User5 Our racing queen!

User6 💜💕❤️

User7 not her petting a picture of her and Olivia in her racing post😂

User8 she’s so pretty!

User9 She looked so happy!

User10 Anyone know why she was giggling on her phone so much?!

User11 maybe she has a boyfriend?!

User12 OMG THAT WOULD BE SO AMAZING!!

User13 Were up for a great season!

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Instagram

Liked by OliviaRodrigo and 4.736.836 others

Yourusername Had a fun time. Met this girl, she kept following me around, her name is Olivia or something… she is cool I guess. Did some cool things, visited some cool places. Being aesthetic and all…

View all 10.735 comments

OliviaRodrigo Mean?!

Yourusername Who are you again?

User1 I love their friendship your honour

Charles_Leclerc I am just going to be silent and not ask what is happening in those pictures

Yourusername That’s great

User2 the caption😂

User3 Very aesthetic indeed👍

User4 I love them😍

User6 Hotttttt

User7 Paris and Ferrari, the best combination!

User8 museum twice, painting picnic AND Paris?! What is going on?!

User9 is it just me or does this look like a date…?

User10 OMG YOURE RIGHT! AND ALSO THE INSTA STORY!

User11 Seriously? They’re just friends and they both don’t like girls

User12 they’re so pretyyyyyyyy

User13 💕💜❤️😍

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Twitter

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Instagram

Liked by OliviaRodrigo and 4.936.836 others

Yourusername I alsways love hanging out with the best people in my life. And this is an other instance of that. I loved hanging out with you @OliviaRodrigo. Thank you for being there for me💕

View all 14.736 comments

OliviaRodrigo I love hanging out with you too💕 I will always be there for you💜❤️

Yourusername 💕💜❤️

User1 Them using each other’s colours😭😭

User2 I love their friendship!

User3 awwwww

User4 they are friendship goals

User5 so pretty

User6 friendship dates are the best!

User7 so cute

User8 why does this kind of look like a soft/hard launch?!?!

User9 It really doesn’t. They are just posting about their friendship, she even said it in the caption!

Charles_Leclerc 🤦‍♂️

Yourusername shut up

User10 wait what happened?!

User11 why does this kind of look like a couple??

User12 gorgeous women liked by author and OliviaRodrigo

User13 In love with both

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Twitter

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Instagram

Liked by Yourusername and 5.735.836 others

OliviaRodrigo A little break between shows and city’s 💜💕❤️ happy to be home

View all 18.735 comments

Yourusername 💜💕❤️ liked by author

Yourusername You’re so hot🥵

SabrinaCarpenter Hope you enjoy your brake! Liked by author

User1 Friendship goals!!

User2 They are the cutest friends ever!

User3 Her wearing red is so cute! Girls supporting girls!

User4 I love them!

User5 the 5th picture🥵

User6 anyone saw Y/n’s deleted comment???

User7 I thought it was just me’

User8 Again this really looks like a hard/soft launch!!

User9It doesn’t!!!

User10 I hope you enjoy your brake! You deserve it!

User11 not her calling Y/n her home 🥲

User12 the 4th pic is so cute!!

Yourusername 🤦‍♀️ liked by author

User13 WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?!

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Instagram

Liked by OliviaRodrigo and 8.986.836 others

Yourusername I had an amazing time with MY GIRLFRIEND and I really enjoys the break. You are my person, my others half. Even if the entire word things we are just best friends EVEN WHEN WE SOFT LAUNCH AND HARD LAUNCH. I love you very much and I am very happy to have you in my life. 💜💕❤️

View all 125.736 comments

OliviaRodrigo Gorgeous girl, my girl, MY GIRLFRIEND

Yourusername always and forever

Charles_Leclerc Finally!! It took long enough!

Yourusername so true!

SabrinaCarpenter So happy for you two!

Yourusername Thank you Sab - me and liv

GracieAbrams Don’t forget you met through me!

Yourusername We could never

OliviaRodrigo Yeah cause Gracie keeps telling us

User1 I love them already

ConanGray Now I can finally post all the photos of you two!

OliviaRodrigo Please do!

Scuderia_Ferrari so happy for you two!

Landonorris does this mean I can get tickets??

Yourusername no

Lilymhe Why wasn’t I informed about this? I thought we were friends!

Yourusername we are! I’m sorry but almost no one on the grid knows! Can I make it better with GUTS tickets…?

Lilymhe …yes. You are forgiven after I have gone to the concert

OliviaRodrigo and where is my opinion in this?

Yourusername with mine

OliviaRodrigo Of course my love

Lilymhe I love y’all already

User2 ONG WHAT?!?!

User3 So they were trying to tell us this whole time???…

Yourusername yes

OliviaRodrigo yes

Charles_Leclerc yes

SabrinaCarpenter yes

ConanGray yes

GracieAbrams yes

User3 OMG HI!

User4 SO CUTE!

User5 Hottest couple for real

User6 wait so how long were you two together??

Yourusername Around 1 year. Our anniversary was on the 3 year anniversary of SOUT

User7 WAIT. so you got together on 2 years SOUR?! Cute!

OliviaRodrigo Yes!

User8 I was right!!!!!!

Yourusername and the only one at that

User9 I’m so sorry!

User10 your girlfriends hot

User11 cutest couple ever

User12 I DID NOT expect this

User13 THIS IS WHY THEY USE THE EMOJIS! Red is for Y/n purple is for Olivia and the pink hards of two is for them together! Liked by author

User13 SHE LIKED

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#formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #x reader #formula 1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 polls #lando norris #olivia rodrigo x f1 #guts olivia rodrigo #olivia rodrigo #olivia rodrigo x reader #Olivia Rodrigo x fem!reader #Olivia Rodrigo x driver!reader #female!driver #driver x reader #driver!reader #fem!reader #fem!driver #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 angst #f1 fic #f1 x Olivia Rodrigo #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 smau #guts tour #singer

[paddockbunny]

Fraternisation Clause

Summary : Working for McLaren is hard, being Lando’s PR girl is even harder….so maybe you need to make a tough decision that will be even harder yet Rating : 16+ Pairing: Lando x Reader Word Count : 1474 words Trigger Warnings : language but clean Images : curated from Pintrest Authors Note : there are probably a few bits in here that aren’t exactly how things are in the actual paddock / McLaren hierarchy so just ignore it and take it for the work of fiction it is ☺️

Abu Dhabi ‘23

It was time to go. You knew that. Everything you could accomplish in your role, you had. The opportunity being offered to you was too great to pass up and if you were honest the move truly excited (and somewhat scared) you. But, it was a step up the ladder and it was a ladder that you really wanted to climb. As you swiped your credentials on the paddock barriers you saw your colleagues and friends awaiting you. Leaving them all behind was exceptionally tough as really, you had all become a little family. You enjoyed pizza nights, drunken karaoke, practical jokes and laughter and tears with them during your four year tenure. As they looked at you with a mixture of smiles and pouting lips it really hit you how tough it was to be leaving and even worse how you wouldn’t be a part of the gang anymore. For twenty four weeks of the year you guys were going to be in the exact same place and yet not be as close anymore. It was such a bittersweet feeling. But, you remembered as some of your new team mates walked past in their crisp white shirts, when Mercedes come a calling, you answer the call.

The night sky was illuminated by an array of bright explosions of colour as fireworks crescendoed overhead. You were already down awaiting Lando to begin media duties so couldn’t really engage in the end of session celebrations like you would have liked. But still it was nice to imagine the pretty illuminations overhead were all for you.

As you waited for Lando to be weighed and take his helmet and balaclava off you couldn’t help but smile. He finished P5 and P7 in the overall standings. An excellent effort and he could be extremely proud he equalled himself for the previous 22 season - considering how tough the car had been, it was fantastic. It had been a long, sometimes stressful, crazy ride being Lando Norris’ PR officer but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t enjoyed every single last millisecond of it. At the start you had an immature, slightly naive guy who matured into a funny, charismatic, caring man. You smirked knowing it couldn’t have been easy for him working with you at the start either. You weren’t as regimented as you had become and he was often late, missing caps or passes, he even got fined for being late to the national anthem ceremony once because you forgot to fetch him, but you were fresh out of university and learning right along side him. It was a baptism of fire and you loved it. And honestly, you couldn’t have imagined anyone else being your F1 virginity stealer.

However, as you waited for him and reminisced you felt overcome by a horrible sadness. See you thought Lando would have been happy for you to move on and be promoted - go on to bigger better things - but he wasn’t. After accepting Mercedes offer and putting in your formal notice, Lando was the first person you told and boy, it did go well. He immedietly told you you were doing the wrong thing and joining Mercedes wasn’t the right move. He passionately attempted to deter you from moving and even got angry when you tried to calm him down. You had never before seen Lando upset like what he was that night - sure during a race or whatnot but that was because he was competitive - So it was totally unexpected. He asked if it were the pay making you leave and even offered to pay you more from his own wages (which insulted you). He asked if you were being forced out, if something had happened with another member of the team (which it hadn’t). Then he asked if it was because you didn’t want to work with him anymore and it caught somewhere in your throat.

If this had been ‘22 you would haven’t hesitated to laugh at the insinuation and make a quip about him being cocksure of himself. But it wasn’t. It was the end of 2023 and you knew yourself things had shifted between the pair of you. In the past 12 months Lando and you had come close to blurring the professional lines and you were able to realise how dangerous that truly was. Nothing had ever happened that could have been considered inappropriate but you couldn’t be one hundred percent you didn’t want it too. And that was what scared you. McLaren had an employee fraternisation clause which clearly stated that employees could not carry out romantic or sexual relationships between other employees particularly those where one employee is in a higher up position. And it didn’t take the brain of Britain to know Lando was their “star” and you were just another foot soldier. There was no way they would keep you over their superstar driver. And besides, it was known amongst the PR team that Lando had a little thing for you as way back as 2020 when you first started working with him but you had always laughed it off, rolled you eyes and played it down.

“He’s just a kid, don’t be daft” you would be heard quipping back. But for some reason, after the prior year, you spend the season pretending you didn’t know he was staring at you, that he was making you laugh on purpose, that he was finding any reason to touch you, be close to you and even invite you to things without anyone else from the team being there. You knew it would only be a matter of time before Lando would try to move things in a different direction - in particular, you knew he would do something stupid like try and kiss you and you would do something even more stupid and kiss him back.

So you walked away. You took the call and accepted the Mercedes offer of becoming a PR Manager (instead of PR officer). You had thought about it at length, toiled over it. And while you knew he might not understand why, you thought he would still be happy for you. You hadn’t expected the attitude he had shown to you over the course of the past three races. The silence, the grunting for responses, not even looking at you as you were talking to him.

You looked up to find him almost in front of you as the fireworks continued overhead. He held out his hand for his water bottle and little bag full of promotional bracelets and watch. “Well done, it’s been a good year.” You tried to tell him but he either didn’t hear you from the loud bangs and the start of the podium celebrations or he was deliberately ignoring you. You swallowed, wishing this was all different. You really could do with a Lando hug right now but as you started off toward the media pen, neither of you said a word to each other. And then after media he announced he had a plane waiting so he wouldn’t be hanging around. You wanted to remind him you were leaving and it was your last day so it would mean a lot if he could hang around for just 10 minutes but before you could muster up the courage to do it, he ducked into his drivers room while you were busy on a call and that was it. You looked for him to say goodbye (at bare minimum) and wish him a happy holidays but he was gone. He didn’t care. He didn’t even want to be your friend anymore.

Things were being wrapped up. Everyone was excited to get going. People wanted to party, celebrate the end of another year. They wanted to call their families and say they would be home soon and make plans for their time off. So when you walked into the McLaren hospitality suite to a riotous round of applause and hollering you were left a gasp and the tears started flowing. You hadn’t expected anyone outside of your small little trackside PR team to care you were off, but that was downright idiotic to think they would let you slink off. That wasn’t McLarens style. But still you didn’t expect all the hullabaloo. The room was packed with different people across each discipline. The mechanics you knew were there, the strat guys, chefs from the kitchens, office folk and even Zak was standing front and centre. So many people across the whole garage came to say goodbye. There was a cake and a “Bon voyage” banner. Your smile erupted across your face as your friends came rushing toward you to engulf you in a huge hug. The earlier sadness due to your strained friendship with Lando was pushed straight to the back of your mind. Right now, you felt special. You felt loved.

You couldn’t help but wish Lando was here too. You wished he had stayed to say goodbye.

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fan fiction #f1 fanfiction #f1 imagines #f1 oneshots #Lando Norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #Lando Norris One shot #f1 one shot #f1 smut #lando

[elaci]

Art brings Patrick along to celebrate your entry winning! He also shows off your side-project of collecting intimates, Patrick wants in.

cw; threesomesss! m-recieving oral, spitroasting, consensual voyeurism, more talk of tennis and a man who is not named mary...

Art Donaldson x Patrick Zweig x fem!reader | The Rule of Thirds masterlist | talk to me!

“You aren’t even playing tennis in it.”

Patrick Zweig, who really does hate formal attire, tilts his head at the print framed in front of him. The glass of sparkling in his hand doesn’t do much to unlock his creative interpretation. To him, it’s a photo of his best friend smiling like a dork with a racket in hand.

Art jabs him in the ribs. “It’s the afterglow,” he parrots, a weird knowing smile pulling at his lips. “You’re just jealous that I won.”

Patrick snorts and leans into Art. “You didn’t. She did.”

The two of them glance around the venue, a makeshift gallery to display the submissions for the face of sport competition . People crowd the place, pointing at prints and talking between themselves about angles and lighting and composition and everything under the sun that isn’t sport. All of the pictures are the same, though: a close up of a sports player as they train. Their face sweaty and angry as they hit a ball or cross a finish line or do a fucking pirouette. 

The boys step out of the way to let an older married couple in front of them look at the winning photo. The husband looks puzzled, glancing from the first-day-of-school-esque photo of Art to a photo of a swimmer diving into the water. 

“This is the winner?” the husband asks his wife. 

The wife, who is sneaking a few pictures on her phone, laughs and says, “Jeff, honey, you just don’t understand art.”

Patrick snorts at that and looks at his Art, one he also doesn’t fully understand. Art rolls his eyes and steps away, motioning for Patrick to follow. The two fall in step with each other, voices low as they walk through the gallery. 

“So,” Patrick dips his head down a little as he speaks, a dutiful whisper. “Are you two dating or what? Have you fucked her yet?”

Art stops abruptly, his shoes squeak against the linoleum flooring, karma for wearing sneakers to an event where champagne is served and people say things like ‘what a peculiar angle’. He looks at Patrick with something in his eyes, and the brunette has to take a moment to try and decode his best friend's silent story.

“Ohh,” he grins after a moment. “She fucked you.”

Art clicks his teeth, he wants to object but he ultimately can’t. “She takes photos.”

“What?”

“Polaroids.”

“Of you fucking?”

“Yes, Patrick, not so loud.”

Patrick’s grin is glued to his face. It’s less amused and moreso smug now, maybe a little excited. There's a moment shared between the two before Patrick chimes in again, a tinge of worry lacing his tone. "And you know she's not going to send them anywhere?"

Art shakes his head. "She lets me keep them."

"Holy shit," Patrick laughs, "I have to see these."

Art scoffs and pulls Patrick along. They continue walking through the exhibition halls, occasionally stopping to look at different prints on display but quickly growing bored of the monotony of each shot. Patrick starts to realise, after the sixth shot of a tennis player hitting a ball, that you were right in catching something different. The pair turn a corner and find themselves in a secluded hall of past entries that no one cares to gawk over a second time; Patrick takes his chance and grabs Art by the arm. 

"Come on," his voice is low, and he glances through the empty hallway to make sure he hadn't missed someone standing within earshot. “Let me see.”

There’s a pause, and then Art shakes his head. “No way, my eyes only.”

Patrick grins, “what’s so bad about them? She gets you to dress up in a maid's dress and serve her on your knees?”

Patrick entertains the thought for a moment, and then sees the danger in doing so and shakes his head. “I’m joking, Art. If you don’t want me to see, don’t show me.”

Another pause, Patrick knows Art like he knows himself, even more so maybe. Art wants to share, he wants to gloat about the endeavours he’s been having behind a closed door: he's a man for attention just like Patrick is, it’s what makes them such a good team, everyone’s eyes are always on them. They hold eye contact for what feels like a moment too long, and Art finally lets his lips flip into a grin.

“And how would Tashi feel about me showing you these?”

Patrick shrugs. “You know Tashi, she’s not the jealous type,” he puts on a high pitched voice, despite Tashi having the complete opposite, and points a finger in the air to quote her. “I dont care what you do or who you fuck, Patrick, as long as you play a good fucking game of tennis afterwards.”

Monogamy, not a given in the world of competition, unsurprisingly. Art stands still, hands by his side as he squints his eyes at Patrick. He’s always been able to call bullshit on him, and Art must trust his intuition on this one because he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. He pulls two polaroids out of the back slot and pockets one of them, not comfortable with sharing such an intimate photo of yourself with express permission. The other one, the one you had taken your first time together, gets slipped into Patricks awaiting palm.

And he has no telling face as he looks at it, studies it. In the photo, Art Donaldson, his best friend since twelve, is laying on his back, expression lost in a mixture of bliss and overwhelming desire. Sweat sticks to his skin, sticks his hair to his forehead. His face is blushed red and his eyes are blown wide open, pupils expanded as if he were looking at God herself; perhaps he was. His mouth is parted lightly, lips glistening with what could be spit or... and Patrick is hard.

“Introduce me,” Patrick deadpans. “I’ll never ask you for anything ever again. I’ll give you so much money. I’ll quit tennis.”

Art grins. “You are a fucking liar.”

“Yeah, one with taste and a semi.”

Art hits Patrick in the arm, but ultimately folds. “Fine, but only because she wants to meet you.”

“I could suck your dick right now.” Patrick takes another hit to the arm, this one harder than the last. He moves to rub the spot where pain still lingers, but stops in his movements when a thought crosses his mind. “So you’ve told her about me, huh?”

Art rolls his eyes and plucks the polaroid from Patricks hand. He looks at the picture for a moment.

“Oh he won't shut up about you," a voice sounds from behind the pair. Both boys jump at the sudden presence and spin to face you, smiling laudingly at the pair- a gold medal with a camera engraved into the front hangs from your neck. Your gaze flits between them, and Patrick is suddenly struck by all the times he’d seen you around before. Though he's not often on campus, only when his schedule opens and visits are worth making, he's turned his head as you've walked past before, he knows it.

Art clears his throat and turns to face you properly, placing the hand with the polaroid behind his back. "This is Patrick," he gestures at Patrick while maintaining eye contact with you. You nod, and then look towards the brunette. Your name falls on attentive ears, Patrick rolls it on his tongue for good measure and decides he likes the taste of it. He introduces himself in turn with an extended hand to shake and his signature smile.

"It's good to meet you," you hum as you shake his hand, though your head nods to Art's hidden hand. "I do autograph my originals, if you want."

Art's face falls slightly, caught in the act. Patrick smiles and nods, to which Art mutters an embarrassed apology. Your eyes soften, and the corners of your mouth tug upwards in response. You hold your hand out, and Art sheepishly places the polaroid in your hand. You turn the polaroid around and examine it for a few moments before plucking a permanent marker from your pocket and writing something on the back of it. You waft it through the air a few times to allow for the ink to dry, and then grin at Art as you hand the polaroid instead to Patrick.

Patrick takes it with a dumbfounded half-smile, his eyes darting from you to Art and then back to you and down to the writing you've left behind--- THE ART OF MAKING LOVE, it reads, and Patrick snorts at the pun. Your smile widens slightly.

“Very nice.” Patrick comments softly, holding the polaroid between his fingertips and glancing down to it pointedly. 

"I know," you reply simply. "Thank you for coming, by the way, both of you. I would have skipped it myself if I didn't win."

Art chuckles. "It was our pleasure, this place is nice."

You laugh in response and Patrick thinks he's heard heaven's bells. "Some lady asked if I'd read the part about the entry having to be sports-related."

Patrick pushes in before Art can speak. "Ah, don't listen to them," he takes a step forward and glances down to the polaroid still between his fingers, you don’t know if he’s talking about the photo he’s holding, or the winning entry. "I think you really captured the... afterglow." 

If Art could roll his eyes completely into the back of his head he would, he can't hold his laughter in at Patricks attempt to sound like he knows the first thing about photography, and your laughter sings out too, picking up on the parroting of your own words to Art. The sound echoes across the empty hallway, bouncing off the walls and filling the space like music.

"Patrick doesn't know what he's talking about," Art runs a hand through his own hair, eyes settling on you in a dorky grin you've grown to adore. 

"I'm better in front of the camera than behind it," Patrick offers. 

Silence meets his words as you look between the boys, committing both of their features to memory. You imagine, only for a moment, getting them both in front of your lens. The imagined sight is enough to press an offer to your lips. Patrick and Art stand in silence, staring at you as you watch them.

"I already got my medal" you toy with the award around your neck. You tilt your head to the side, "wanna get out of here?"

"Yes," said in eager unison by the best friends, fire and ice.

You smirk, turn on your heels and lead the way down the hall. Patrick and Art fall in step behind you, Patrick still holding your polaroid between his fingers-- Art plucks it from him in a quick movement and pockets it. Patrick, in childish turn, shoves Art against the corridor wall. He hits a framed photo of an elderly woman with a feeding tube in her nose, titled 'the woes of age', and it crashes to the floor with a loud clatter. The frame's glass shatters across the floor, and you whip your head around to find Patrick and Art both staring wide-eyed back at you.

"What was that?" A voice from the main gallery calls out, thudding footsteps follow.

And you stifle a laugh, looking down at the broken frame of a probably now-dead elderly woman's portrait, then up to your two accomplices. Art and Patrick look between each other, a silent agreement between them. All of a sudden, they're sprinting past you, and both grabbing a hand of yours to pull you down the corridor.

Your shrieks of laughter fill the space between you. You run faster than you've ever ran before, your heart pounding in your chest and blood rushing through your veins; it's exhilarating, it's terrifying, you're alive. 

SIX YEARS LATER

A burly old man with tattoos from head to toe stands behind the counter at MARY'S PAWN SHOP— YOUR TRADE, YOUR TREASURES. Patrick Zweig walks in with two tennis bags slumped over his shoulders, looks at the balding man with ‘leisure’ tattooed under his eye and smiles, “I’ll take it you aren’t Mary.”

"No," says the man of few words.

Patrick raises his eyebrows and exhales, his social battery already malfunctioning. He walks to the counter and sets each tennis bag down atop it with a padded thud. "There's uh, there's rackets, wristbands, a pair of shoes- I think, a few balls. All in good condition, nothing cheap, nothing dirty..."

The man nods, still silent, and begins looking through the tennis bags. He pulls a racket out to check it for wear and tear, and then another, glossing his eyes over and finding no damage. He checks the shoes for dirt and scratches, the balls for wear, and once he's happy with the quality of the first bag's contents, he moves onto the second. He unzips the side pocket with a short tug to reveal something other than tennis equipment— a polaroid.

It only takes a glance at the photo from the stocky man before he's slamming it face down on the counter. "Fucking Christ, kid. Check your shit before you pawn it off."

Patrick looks puzzled, "what?" he slides the polaroid towards himself and flips it up to look at it— his lips twitch. "Oh." 

"Yeah 'oh'," the man scoffs in reply.

Patrick stares down at a photo he hasn't seen in years, and while red tinges his face as he stands in Mary's Pawn Shop, it's nothing compared to his flushed red look of desperation in the polaroid. There he sits, with Art Donaldson sitting behind him pressing wet kisses to his neck, hands splayed over Patrick’s bare chest. His legs are spread, the photo is taken from between them— at the bottom of the frame his cock sits rock hard and at rapt attention, your manicured fingers wrapped around his length: he can even see the glisten of precum beading at his tip.

"Jesus," Patrick exhales shakily, quickly pocketing the polaroid and only barely managing eye contact with the clerk. "That's, uh..."

"I don't care," he snaps a finger to the store's entrance. "Out."

"Wait," Patrick scrambles to show him that the rest of the bag is indeed only full of tennis gear. "Seriously, please, I need the money," his tone softens, but is still pleading. "Look, I'm a tennis player, Patrick Zweig, if you plaster my name on the sale I'm sure you'll get more sales. Can you just—"

"I just got a faceful of your cock, Patrick Zweig," the old man barks. "Get the fuck out."

Patrick lets out an exasperated sigh and zips up his tennis bags, slinging one strap across his shoulder and taking the other by the handle. He turns and walks gingerly out of the store, a 'please come again soon!' sign hangs awkwardly from the door he walks through, and rattles when he slams it shut behind him.

The trek to his car is an embarrassing one, the old tattooed man's eyes still burning into him as he unlocks the trunk and throws his tennis bags in. The moment he's situated in the driver's seat, he's turning out of the street and praying silently to god that he gets hit by lightning or something to that extent. He's been doing that a lot lately. 

Once he's reached his apartment, Patrick's mind is reeling, and every thought has to do with you. He leaves his stuff behind in the car, mind too occupied to care about bringing them in. 

His front door creaks when he pushes it open and slams it shut behind him, he's walking straight to his laptop, which sits at the counter because he hasn't had the time nor funds to buy a table, and opens up the screen. Your name is tapped into the search browser in seconds, his index finger clicks the enter button and Patrick Zweig holds his breath as the search results load. There's a funny feeling in his chest, a deep sense of anticipation that makes him feel almost giddy.

The page loads a display of your photography but no display of you. Patrick scrolls further down, scanning through articles about your photographs and a few links to reviews of your work.  Nothing. His fingertips drum against the keyboard as he tries another search— your personal website. 

There you are. A photo of you behind a camera headlines the page, and below are examples of your work. They're mostly photos of people, some of them are tame and shot against the sun in fields canvased with colour, others are sultry black-and-white boudoir style photos, though each subject has the same look on their face that you've been chasing since the day he met you. Patrick takes the polaroid from his pocket and sits it against the screen, as if on display with the rest of your shots, and  he can't help but smile. It's very you.

BOOK A SHOOT! — GET IN CONTACT is written in bold towards the bottom of the page next to an email and a phone number. 

Patrick Zweig knows he isn't the best person to grace this earth. He knows he has a habit of placing himself in the arms of people that would be better off without bearing his weight. He knows his voice can be a jarring one— so he skips past your number and starts typing an email instead. Because he’s trying to be thoughtful, you can delete an email, but also because he’s a few minutes away from stroking his cock to that polaroid of yours until his wrist hurts and he’s cumming dry and you’d certainly hear the building desperation in his voice.

Your email goes in first, and then a subject line— he flips the polaroid over and smiles at the smudged writing on the back, and then gets to typing:

‘Zweig, your plus one.’

SIX YEARS EARLIER

“So what am I here?” Patrick takes a drag of his cigarette, leans back against the tree he sits under and blows his smoke into the air. “A third wheel?”

You laugh, so does Art, who is sitting across from him on the grass, beside you with an arm around your shoulder. He has a cigarette in hand that he offers you every now and then, but you’re busy feeding new instant film into your polaroid. Though your head is down as you work, you reply with a sweetness to your tone nonetheless.

“No,” you laugh. “More like a plus one.”

Patrick raises his eyebrows and looks from you to Art, something in his eyes that only his best friend could read. Art shrugs, a playful smile pulling at his lips as he mouths 'told you.' Before Patrick can ask what exactly what you mean by that, he sees you lift the polaroid in front of your face and snap a picture, the flash sending Patricks eyes wide in the otherwise dim night.  When you lower the camera from your nose he finds you grinning at him like you've just won the lottery, and he laughs low in his throat.

The polaroid prints from the camera, and you waft it in the air a little to let it develop before looking down at it. "You looked good," you hum, and give Patrick the opportunity to lean forward and take a look for himself. He does so immediately, his elbows resting on his knees as he leans forward and angles his head. He sees himself, cigarette in hand and smoke blowing softly from his lips as he sits.

He takes another toke of his cigarette and then taps it out into the ashtray beside him. He nods at you, catches your gaze, "do you play tennis?"

You laugh, a genuine laugh that rings in Patricks ears. Art laughs too, and nudges you with his arm. "She's a natural."

Patrick can tell Art is lying, because he can always tell. A grin pulls at his lips as you shake your head and cover your face with your hands for dramatic effect and dissolve into your laughter once more. Art nudges you again, and you push his arm away gently, but there's no malice in your movements, "I'm about half as useful with a racket as I would be if I was blind. I'll leave the big leagues to you two... you're playing professionally right?"

Patrick nods, and spends a fair few minutes going into depth about the world of pro tennis. You listen tentatively, nodding along to his words and asking questions when you aren't sure of something. Art chimes in too, at some point, and the conversation shifts from pro tennis to all types of stories from the boys' years of playing together.  It all feels so familiar, and yet so foreign. Patrick can't remember the last time he's talked about tennis with someone that isn't aching to get pointers from him, or lecture him on how to improve. You just listen, and you throw in your own stories of childhood sports leagues and extracurriculars here and there, and Patricks not quite sure how but by the time the conversation wraps up, the three of you are sitting an awful lot closer than you were when you'd first found the secluded spot on campus.

"How long are you visiting for?" You tilt your head as you look at Patrick- your legs are draped over Art's lap, though you have a hand on his knee.

"A few more days," Patrick nods, looking from you to Art who has a sly grin plastered on his face, "what?"

Art shrugs nonchalantly, leaning slightly forward as he rubs a hand over your legs. “Patrick is staying in my dorm,” he looks to you, something knowing in his eyes. “I forgot to tell him I wouldn’t be there tonight.”

Patrick looks between you and Art. 

“Oh but your doors locked,” you sound genuinely concerned as you turn to Patrick and ask, “do you have a spare key?”

Arts door isn’t locked— he always forgets to lock it. Even at boarding school Patrick would chide his inability to remember to lock their room up when they left, they’d always fall victim to someone coming in to steal a racket or swap out their pillows for the less comfortable ones that would circulate the dorm. 

“I don’t have a spare key,” Patrick lets your hand crawl a little further over his thigh. A glance to Art offers him an equally hungry look, a heat, a taste for more than that night in the hotel with…

Should he tell you about Tashi? He knows she’s unbothered by his endeavours as long as his performance doesn’t slip for it, but some draw a line at sharing. He looks between you and Art, takes in the burning from the both of you and almost laughs, something tells him sharing isn't off the cards for you.

“You said earlier that you’re better in front of the camera than behind it,” your voice is soft, sultry, it sends a twang of something needy through Patricks spine. “You wanna take some pictures, Zweig?” 

It’s all a rush, from his acceptance to the trip to your dorm room, a haze of hushed laughter and lingering touches he can’t tell who from. He wants to put on a face for you, woo you like he does every other girl he’s slept with. But with Art it’s easy, they're best friends… soulmates. They’ve kissed before, they've seen the most intimate parts of each other— in a way, Art's presence settles his nerves with you. 

The second your dorm room door clicks shut, Art’s lips are against Patrick's and he’s guiding him to the edge of your bed in a mess of sloppy implacable kisses, his slender hands run through Patrick's curls, tug at the base of his scalp in a newfound dominance Patrick was unsure Art had in him. This is the second time they've made out, if you don't count the time when they were thirteen and practised on each other for their first girlfriends… which neither of them will admit ever happened.

The back of Patrick's legs hit the edge of your bed and at the same time, Art's tongue slips dutifully into his mouth and slides over the expanse of his teeth. He tastes like cigarettes and chapstick, which Patrick assumes is yours because it tastes like cherries and everything else narcotic, in this sense he kisses you also. There's a heat licking at the pit of his stomach and it spreads like wildfire through his chest and down his arms. Tugging at the hem of Arts shirt, he gets his point across and is able to lift it and run his fingertips over his abdomen as Art removes it completely. Patrick follows suit shortly after, grabbing his own shirt by the collar and lifting it over his head: it's tossed to the side despite its price. His jeans soon follow.

For a moment, it's just the two of them, all clothes bar their boxers discarded to the floor and hands exploring bare skin. The warmth of Art's fingers digging into his chest, his ribs, his hips, the hard planes of his body, their bodies pressed together as if to become one. Their lips connect again, hungrily, their teeth knocking together with every brush of tongues. Patrick takes Art's lower lip between his teeth and bites hard enough to elicit a choked groan from the back of Art's throat.

They part, and are given only half a moment to mourn the loss of each other's touch before their kiss-swollen lips upturn into grins, and a gentle laughter is shared between them. Art's smile is wide, and he turns his head from Patrick to you, sitting at your desk writing on the back of the polaroid you had taken outside.

"Busy over there?" Art teases, smiling as you turn to look at them.

"Just letting you have your moment," you hum complaisantly, then lift your camera up to take a quick photo of the pair, hot and flushed and still panting slightly, "just let me know when you two feel like being productive with yourselves…"

Your tone trails off, and then you're standing quickly, grabbing your camera as you saunter over to the boys, who part from each other to glue their eyes onto you. You survey the scene, their tousled hair and matching vibrant pink cheeks. Patrick’s boxers are a light blue, Art’s are black, and you like the contrast of colour but decide they should exit the scene completely. 

You run a nail down Art’s chest, watching as his shoulders roll back as you flick over one of his nipples and continue down to the waistband of his boxers. You pull the elastic towards you, and then let it snap back against his skin. He hisses at the contact, plasters a dramatic frown across his lips as you smile in turn and nod to the bed, though not before tugging down at his boxers just enough to expose the trail of light brown hair leading to his hardened cock— a suggestion if nothing else: take them off. 

Art obliges, sparing only a glance to Patrick before tugging his boxers down and kicking them to the side. You steal a good look at his cock, licking your lips at the sight of his growing hard-on. He catches your gaze and gives you a sly smile before climbing onto your bed and sitting back. 

You’re quick to guide Patrick into position as well, taking him by the wrist and giving him a pointed look when he uses his free hand to caress the curve of your ass. He’s a lot more assertive than Art, lets his hands roam when Arts would stay clasped behind his back. You like it, you like the contrast, and you like the thought of having Art take control of his ministries for once. 

You pull Patrick to stand in front of where Art sits and then, with a cheeky lopsided smile, you push him backwards and watch as he falls to sit just in front of where Art is settled. You take a step back and watch as Art moves forward, hand on Patrick’s shoulder, and sets his gaze on you. 

“Direct away,” he rests his chin on Patrick’s shoulder, and the pair watch as you ready your camera. 

“You’re good like this, actually,” you hum, looking between the boys. Rather than snap a photo, though, you reach back out and lift Patrick’s chin up to offer him your gaze. Your fingers trace the expanse of his jaw, up to his cheek before returning to his cocky smile. You slip two fingers into his mouth, his lips closing around them without guidance nor hesitation. His tongue lays flat against your digits as he sucks, hollowing out his cheeks, eyes boring into yours. 

When you pull your fingers from his mouth his arrogant smile returns ten-fold. You’re pressing your lips against his in only a second, rolling your tongue into his mouth in an attempt to shut him up despite not a word falling from his lips. He brings a hand up to cup the side of your face, an attempt at dominance despite quite literally being the one stretching his back to keep his lips against yours.

His hand travels to the nape of your neck, tugging you forward until you practically fall into him, your legs giving way as you drop to your knees against the cold hardwood floors. You find purchase by splaying your fingers over his thick thighs, his lips still locked with yours in a frenzy of tongues and teeth and shared oxygen. It's an unspoken battle for the upper hand, something you never had to wager with Art, who's happy to melt under your touch until the sun rises. You take your turn by slipping one hand past the waistband of his baby blue boxers and palming his rock hard erection; a harsh intake of breath from Patrick allows you to pull your lips from his and gaze up at him with the most innocent expression you could muster.

"Can I suck your dick now or are you going to keep me waiting? I'm kinda starving."

A breathless chuckle escapes your lips as Patrick stares at you with heated eyes and opens his mouth to reply but no sound comes out. The words die on the tip of his tongue and he closes it quickly before swallowing audibly and looking between you and Art, who has pulled himself up just enough to get a look at you from over his best friends shoulder. When Patrick's eyes lock onto yours again, his grin widens even further and he leans back against Art's chest, looking down at you through lidded eyes and nodding eagerly. 

You waste no time on lingering touches and feather-light strokes. Your free hand is tugging Patrick's boxers down, with his help as he lifts his hips to allow you to do so, and with your other one you're squeezing his shaft, moving your hand up and down in deliberate strokes that send his mind into overdrive. Once he's biting his own lip, you wrap your around his glistening tip and swirl your tongue around the head of his cock before sucking him deeply into your mouth. 

A gasp from Patrick, quickly muffled by the turn of his head and Art stretching his neck to meet his best friend in a ravenous kiss. You flatten your tongue against Patrick's length, take a moment to hum contently and listen to his hitching breath at the vibrations you offer him, and then start bobbing your head rhythmically. You cup his balls with one hand, offer him gentle squeezes in tandem with the movement of your tongue, and rub grounding circles into his thigh with your other hand. Your cheeks hollowed out, you suck Patrick Zweig's pulsing cock until he deems himself desperate enough to start bucking his hips upward into your mouth. You know he'd hold your head in place and throat-fuck you until you'd lose your voice if he had you alone, but Art's doing well in distracting him with his tongue, his lips and his hands. 

It's when Patrick breaks the kiss to look down at you, eyes glossed with a yearning lust, that you know he's close. Breathing laboured, fingers digging into the edge of your mattress, hips snapping upwards for any chance at fucking deeper into your throat. His desperation only doubles when Art starts nibbling at his ear, then kissing down the stretch of his neck, hands feeling up his chest.

You know he’s close, walking on the fence of a ruined orgasm and a zenith climax that would taste better than it feels, though you place your hunger aside to do what you do best— take the shot. You pull your lips from Patrick’s cock with a pop, and replace your mouth with your right hand, wrapping your fingers around his length and stroking him just enough to keep him on that edge. 

You reach over his trembling thighs, grab your camera and line up the shot. Art’s mess of blonde hair is a contrast to Patrick’s darkened look as he works bruises into his neck, fingers splayed over his chest. Patricks face, the look of looming bliss melted over his features, and the tension in his corded muscles as he opens his mouth to beg for sweet release. You make sure his pulsing cock is in frame, too, held in reverence by your own hand. The flash momentarily brightens the room, illuminates the scene at hand but only for a second before the Polaroid prints your photo and you pluck it with the hand that had held Patrick's cock on the edge of orgasm.

He whines as you smile up at him, nearly moving to stroke himself to completion but stopping in favour of starting an argument.

"What the fuck?" He has to swallow twice to keep his drool from spilling out of his mouth. "That's unfair, fucking-"

You press a kiss to Patrick's knee and then stand, stepping back once and placing your finger against your lips in a gesture of silence.

He watches, his brows furrowed as you turn on your heel and wander back to your desk. You don't bother to look over your shoulder as you pick up a permanent marker and start writing on the back of your developing Polaroid. 

'ZWEIG, OUR PLUS O—'

A pair of arms around your torso pull you backwards, and you smudge the last few letters with your thumb as the man behind you pulls it from your grasp and smacks it face-down against your desk. You can feel his erection pressing against your clothed ass, his sweaty chest against your back and his hot breath against your ear as he speaks, low and sinful.

"I don't know if you've noticed," Patrick Zweig bites. "But I don't get off on being used like a toy. I'm not Art."

You turn your head in the direction of his voice, let his breath fan your cheek; you smell cigarettes and remnants of Art's chewing gum. "I know you're not," you coo, pressing your ass back against his painfully hard length. "Art made me cum twice before I ever got on my knees for him. You're selfish."

"Damn right I am," Patrick breathes, tightening his grip around your torso and near-dragging you back to the bed. "Always have been, too."

You're walked to the bed where Art waits, arms crossed over his chest as he watches you get manhandled into position. He'd offer you a hand, a way out, if you weren't smiling so wide, giggling beneath your breath as Patrick pushes between your shoulder blades and bends you over the edge of your own mattress. You catch yourself with your hands on Art's knees, face dangerously close to his now rock-hard cock as Patrick uses both hands to pull your bottoms and panties off in one go.  His eyes linger on your exposed cunt as he slips two fingers through your folds, grinning- "fucking soaked, huh?"

"Fuck yes," you breathe. You think he's going to stretch you out on his fingers and you're about to object, tell him you don't need it, when you hear a condom packaging rip open and the tip of his cock presses against your entrance. You can only gasp in response.

"Tell me yes, say you want it," Patrick breathes.

"Fuck me, Zweig."

You make eye contact with Art as Patrick slowly presses into you, using your own wetness as lube. Art watches you with sinful eyes, something deep inside of him like watching you fall apart under his best friend's touch, but you refuse to reduce him to a cuck. You let Art lift your chin just enough to press a tender kiss against your lips as Patrick starts to thrust into you, slowly increasing his pace as he feels you adjust more and more to his size. You love the taste of Art's kisses, the gentle way his lips take yours, but you're hungry for more of him, so you pull away and try not to focus on those sad eyes of his.

As Patrick snaps his hips into yours and bottoms out inside of you, you lean down and take Art as deep into your mouth as you can manage. As soon as Art finds your rhythm, his eyes flutter closed and a sigh leaves his lips. His hand finds its way to the back of your head, and he holds you there, rocking his hips into your mouth as Patrick tries to match his rhythm. You move in tandem with the ministrations of your boys, with each thrust of Patrick's hips, you're choking further on Art's cock. And with each snap of Art's hips, you're pushed backwards onto Patrick's length, and each time he manages to fill you just that little bit deeper. 

"That's it," Patrick's voice is breathy. "Good fucking girl, taking us so well, like you were fucking made for it, huh?"

With each movement, every moan from either boys' lips, you're pushed closer towards the edge of a new level of pleasure, and you can feel warmth beginning to gather in the pit of your stomach. Your fingers dig into the sheets, holding onto them tight and keeping you anchored as you push against Patrick's cock harder, faster... fucking yourself on him in the spirit of competition. You're full to the brim, lips wrapped around Art's cock as you work him close to the edge, eyes looking up at him through your lashes to find a face so fucking pretty you forget to even think of taking a picture. Not that you could even if you wanted to, with his cock embedded in your throat and your arms the only things keeping you up.

The pressure in your stomach, the searing stretch of Patrick's cock makes you wonder if you're a masochist at heart, because you never want that dull pain to end. His moans fall from his lips and permeate the air, a symphony of wants and needs, and you think you could get lost in it forever.

"Oh Jesus Christ," Patrick groans, voice cracking as he nears climax. Art's hips start to shake, his thrust into your mouth becoming erratic and harsh and so much better than it should be when you can feel sweat dripping into your hairline, the sting of  tears forming in your eyes as Patrick pounds into you. It takes everything in you not to come undone as his hips jerk forward. It feels too good, too good to last, and you're seconds away when you feel Patrick fucking Zweig reach an arm around your waist to rub fast circles against your clit, less selfish than he proclaims to be.

The three of you cum in perfect unison, your bodies wracked with tremors of a shared climax unlike any you've had before. Patrick presses as deep into you as he can, near-kissing your cervix in instinctual desperation to fill you up despite his condom. Art shoots right into your mouth, pulling back a little so his load lands on your tongue as well, offering you a taste of his lust, one you take happily. Though you're unable to keep it all in your mouth as he pulls out and allows you space to take a breath as you come down from your high. His seed glistens on your lips as Patrick pulls out of you and lets you turn onto your back and lay on your bed, panting heavily as the haze of ecstasy starts to fade. 

Art soon joins you, laying down beside you in a dizzy haze of exertion. When you turn your head to look at him, he's already smiling at you, and reaches a hand out to swipe his thumb against your lips, gathering his own cum and pushing it back into your mouth. You bite his thumb with a playful grin and Art laughs in response, the moment between you sweet until the flash of your own instant camera dazes the both of you into silence.

You sit up on your elbows, looking towards Patrick Zweig, who stands with your camera in one hand and a freshly developed photo in the other. He flicks it a few times, unaware of how to speed up the development process, then looks at it as if he's analysing each aspect of his shot. After another beat, he turns the print around to let the both of you see, and grins proudly at his work. The photo is a sweet one, your teeth bared around Art's thumb, the calm after such a storm of pleasure.

"Turns out, I'm great at both sides of this thing," Patrick holds your camera up in show and smiles cheekily, to which you roll your eyes. Though you can't help the laughter that rumbles from your lungs when Patrick flops down onto the mattress, making both you and Art move over to make room for him. Art follows suit, laughter spilling from his throat in harmony, and it spreads quickly to Patrick.

Once the air is silent, Art turns his head to greet the both of you. With a smile, something simple falls from his lips— "dinner?"

You hum in response, nodding your head as your mouth starts to water, though Patrick clears his throat. "Yeah," he sits upright and looks between you before grabbing at one of your thighs and pulling you closer to him, his head dips to the juncture of your neck and shoulder and he speaks simply against your skin. "I'm not done with either of you yet."

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for asking my roommates to clean the bathroom in a specific way, or pay me to do so for them?

I (21F) live in student housing with 3 roommates, all 20-21F. We started living together in August and will continue living together until we all graduate a year from now. Our apartment has four bedrooms but we all share one bathroom.

When we first started living together we came to some agreement on cleaning things, like that dishes are the responsibility of whoever dirtied them, rotating trash duties, and importantly for this post we decided that we would alternate who cleaned the bathroom each week and posted a calendar that says who’s week it is with a place to leave a check mark when it’s complete.

This ostensibly works fine, as people are roughly on time with their cleaning and check off their name as they are supposed to. However. Each of our ideas of cleaning the bathroom are vastly different. For example when I clean the bathroom I scrub the toilet bowl, wipe down the toilet seat top, lift up the seat and wipe down under there, wipe the flusher and the back of the toilet because it gets dusty and gross, wipe down door handle as you have to touch it with dirty hands to get out of the WC to the sink, wipe down the countertop and and the sink, spray and then rinse the shower with cleaner, take hair out of the shower drain (bc they refuse to use a drain cover), vacuum up the insane amounts of hair that end up on our floor, and then mop the floor as well as take out the bathroom trash.

my roommates will maybe clean the inside of the toilet bowl and spray/scrub the shower before checking their names off the list. It drives me insane bc it means that I have to clean everyone else’s weeks of grime off the floor and toilet seat, and pull so much hair out of our shower. There have been weeks where I’m not convinced any cleaning happened at all, and I think people just checked their names off without doing anything. I’ve discussed this with my roommates both individually and as a group in the past but they say that they are cleaning the bathroom so there shouldn’t be an issue

This is where I may be the asshole: enter The Cleaning List. Basically I made a list of requirements for the bathroom cleaning. It’s formatted with headings of areas to be cleaned and bullet points underneath of specifics. (For example one heading is “TOILET” with the bullet points “-clean top of and underneath toilet, -seat scrub toilet bowl, -wipe flusher.”) I then took a picture of this list and texted the group saying that I would like to implement these as the new cleaning requirements and post the list next to our calendar of who’s turn it is to clean. I also told them that if they couldn’t commit to the time/effort that these new rules would add, they could pay me 30 dollars on their weeks to do it for them.

My roommates did not appreciate my idea for The Cleaning List nor the idea of paying me to clean on their week. They called me a controlling and said I wasn’t appreciating the work they do to clean the bathroom already, and just because I have ridiculous standards doesn’t mean they shouldn’t have to pay me. They said the current system works fine so we should just keep doing what we’re doing.

I don’t think I’m the asshole because I’m doing more work than everyone else to maintain the cleanliness of our shared space and I think we should either split the work fairly or that I should at least be compensate for making up for everyone else’s refusal to clean the bathroom in a way that’s productive. But I could be the asshole because I did ask them to put in more work to meet my own standards, or ask them to pay me to do it for them if they can’t even though their standards aren’t the same.

So, AITA?

Extra info: 1. it’s worth saying I have contamination OCD and cleaning other peoples grossness gives me intense anxiety but the anxiety is far worse when I have to interact with the grossness on a daily basis with no recourse. Some of my roommates are aware of this some are not. 2. When I claim I don’t think the bathroom is being cleaned properly, it’s not because the bathroom isn’t sparkling and spotless. It’s because there’s consistently pee stains on toilet seats, shit streaks in the toilet, a visible layer of hair strands on the floor, and enough hair in the shower that if I don’t clean it the whole thing clogs.

#aita #am i the asshole #unsanitary cw

[deansapplepie]

Dr. Dixon | Chapter 1

Summary: You just moved to a new city, with a job in Alexandria Hospital on the Pediatric team. You were happy and anxious to work with friends and finally meet your mentor’s former pupil who he talked fondly about. You just didn’t expect he was going to be your last night’s one nightstand and that he was nothing like your mentor had described.

Pairing: Doctor! Daryl Dixon x Doctor! Reader

Warnings: smut, sex, casual sex, protected sex, p-in-v, bathroom sex, alcoholic beverages, Daryl. 18 + MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

A/N: Not really sure if it all went the way I wanted, but I quite proud of this first chapter. I hope you enjoy it. 🩷 Not proof read.

Chapter 2

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter 1 - Doctor Dixon

You entered the bar not really knowing what you were looking there. Maybe an escape, a way to not be so anxious about the upcoming day or maybe you just wanted to feel less bad for being at your friends’ house till you find a place for yourself. You hated disturbing people, even if they said you weren’t.

Going out alone wasn’t really your thing, but from time to time it was a good thing to do. The bar wasn’t exactly full, but it wasn’t empty either. You went for a stool near to the counter, where it seemed to have less strange people.

“A piña colada, please.” You asked the bartender.

“Yer not expecting to get boozed by this, are ya?” A stranger sitting by your side said.

You looked at him and couldn’t feel annoyed or anything, you also felt his comment wasn’t mean at any rate. He was a handsome especimen, shoulder length brown wavy hair, bright blue eyes, a smirk on his lips and his tall and well buit frame made an impression.

“I don’t need a booze, I just want a drink.” You said while analyzing him, at his hand he had a glass of what you presumed was Whysky. “Can’t say the same about you, apparently you go for the strong things.”

“Hmm…” he hummed, didn’t say anything.

“Not my business, but Did you have a rough day?” The bartender brought your drink and you started sipping from it.

“Kinda.” He clearly didn’t want to talk about it , but you didn’t want to listen too. It was just something that made you want to talk to him.

“Hmm” This time you were the one that hummed.

“Ya ain’t from here, are ya?” He asked, nit that the city was small, it was a big city. Impossible to know everyone. But just by looking at you, he knew you were new.

“No, but you aren’t from here too.” You could see it all over him, his body language, his accent and the way he spoke.

“Nah, but I’ve probably been here longer than ya.” He answered.

“Indeed.” You said and went back to your drink.

By some strange reason that you couldn’t pin point why, you felt like you needed to continue talking to him. Not just because he was attractive, but mainly because he was having a simple, casual conversation with you without being a jerk or trying to hit on you. And because of all this a sentence that you never expected coming out of your mouth was released before you could even stop your thoughts. “Wanna release the stress?”

His eyes that were studying his glass so attentively went back to your figure and he tried to read in you if you were implying what he thought you were implying. You looked back at him and tried to not avert your eyes from his, the words had already left your mouth. Now you needed to be bold.

“I’m giving you 2 minutes, if you don’t come I’ll leave, pretend this never happened and never come back to this bar.” You took a last portion of your drink and left the stool going in the bathrooms direction.

Once inside the bathroom you leaned against the cold wall right beside the entrance door while reality hit you of what you had just done. Did you really make that offer to a complete stranger that you didn’t even knew the name? Yes, you did and despite feeling this was a little bit crazy, you couldn’t feel anything else besides of the adreline, of your moment of boldness, running through your vains.

For a moment Daryl thought that should be a joke, he meant… you were beautiful, cute and probably younger than him. You looked as if you were on your 30s, maybe even on your later 20s. He couldn’t know for sure. You were so direct and casual about it, also he felt comfortable throughout all of your little chit chat. He decided he would go after you, he would accept your proposal. What could possibly go wrong? He’d never see you again.

Had 2 minutea already passed? You thought so. You didn’t had a Watch and you weren’t really looking at your phone for the ours. It was time to live, you thought. You turnes around to live and was face to face with the man, or better face to chest since you look up if you wanted to see his face.

“Thought… you weren’t coming.” You said, your cheeks ligerally blushed at being caught about to leave.

“I thought I wasn’t coming…” he honestly answered. “D’ya really want this?”

“Yea.” That was the only word that left your mouth before you pressed your chest against his and crashed your lips.

He tasted o whisky, peppermint and tobacco, and strangely you liked it. You yanked him by his shirt and without breaking the heated kiss your feet guided you to the farthest toilet inside the bathroom and he charged himself with the duty of closing the door to give both of you as much privacy as you could get.

You were so sweet and smelled so well that he was sure he had never had someone like you before. He held your left thigh and brought it up his was waist pressing his crotch against yours. You broke the kiss seeking for air and he took the opportunity to descend his mouth from your jaw to your neckbone. Eliciting little sighs and moans from you. Was he really having something like you?

Your hand grasped his hair pressing his face more against you, while your hips rubbed against his. His hand came to the cleavage of your dress and pulled it down exposing your breast, you gasped surprised with the sudden act. He brought your other leg up, making your legs embrace his waist.

You went for his mouth again, your bodies impossibly pressed against each other and the wall. His hand now hovered your clothed pussy and she pulsed for him, he pressed his hand against you exercing some presure where you needed. Your hands descended to his pants undoing his belt and opening it to touch him.

His mouth softly but also harshly mouthed your breasts each at a time giving the attention that such beautiful pieces like yours deserved. You took his cock out of his boxers pumping it, caressing it… in your mind you thouched him frantically, despaired and firmly. On his skin he felt it, oh, so tender and delicately like nobody had ever touched him and at the same time it felt like you were sending him to heaven.

One of your hands started going up from his groin to his stomach and that was when his hand held yours before you could go any further and touch what you weren’t supposed to, see what you shouldn’t. Before you could notice anything he took both your hands up your head and held them against the wall using only one of his hands and suffering with the loss of contact from your hand on his length.

He reached his backpocket for a condom while you aimlessly trusted your hips against him. He teared the package with his teeth before putting the protection. You could have complained about him restraining your hands from touch him, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t like the way he was being imposing at the moment.

He put your panties aside and rubbed the tip of his cock on your heat and that was enough to make your eyes roll and a moan scape your lips. You trusted your hips against him in hopes of sinking down on his cock and he understood the message, too damn well. Going deep inside of you in one swift movement. He groaned and you gasped, you had never felt so full like this. What was this man!? He gave you some seconds before he started to move, trusting steady and hard in you. Each trust a groan and moan escaping both of your lips, the possibility of other people entering the bathroom long gone from your worries. There was only pleasure and the chasing for the bliss that would fog your minds for the rest of the night or at least you hoped for it.

Your lips battling each other while you vigorously bucked your hips against one another, that so familiar and delicious turmoil building at your lower stomach. Your walls contracting around him threatening to send him to the edge. But he couldn’t let it go without you, no not you that offered this moment to him. You deserved it, you owned it, he refused to let the beautiful stranger he met on the bar down. His free hand went down encountering your clit and stimulating, caressing and working it while he trusted inside of you right at that spot making you see stars when you convulsed in pleasure against and around him. His own pleasure coming afterwards. Your moans, whimpers and groans muffled by your attached lips.

The other day you woke up early, you had to show up at the Hospital at 8am. You got yourself ready and went downstairs for breakfast. You were staying at your friends’ house while you looked for a nice place to rent. Michonne and Rick Grimes were being too gentle to you and you didn’t want to take too much advantage from their hospitality. You started preparing breakfast when Mich came to the kitchen.

“Good morning! What time did you get home yesterday? I didn’t hear you arriving.” She asked opening the fridge to take more ingredients to prepare the food the children liked.

“Good, that was the intention, arrive and don’t disturb anyone.” You answered while you added some salt to the scrambled eggs you were preparing. “It was around 2.”

“Two???” Michonne inquired and looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “What were you doing missy?”

“I met a guy.” You answered. Simply.

“So you did get laid!” She teased you. It wasn’t that you didn’t get laid often… well you didn’t, but that was your kore reserved nature.

“Who got laid?” Rick asked entering the kitchen and Michonne said your name.

“Thank you Mich, now I’m really embarrassed. That’s the price for the rent in this house?” Your cheeks were red. One thing was talking about sex with you bestie from university, the other was involving her husband in the talk.

“I’m taking as it was good, since you arrived that late.” She ignored you.

“Aren’t you afraid the children will listen?” You questioned.

“Jude and RJ are knocked out at this time, they’ll only wake up with their babysitter.” Rick said casually, the couple had 3 children, Judith and RJ the youngest ones, and Carl, the oldest, that was at college. “So I guess we can tease you the whole breakfast.”

“I hate you. Both of you.” You told them.

“Nah, you don’t.” Michonne told you and nudged you with the side of her hips.

You felt like a kid going to a new school at the first time, and Rick and Michonne were your parents. You arrived all together at the Hospital and they took you to Hershel Greene’s office, the Medical Chief of the Hospital. You had already talked before, for the interview, it was online and you had to use an app for that.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person Dr. Greene.” You shook his hand.

“The pleasure is mine! Dr. Dixon is coming in a bit, I already beeped him. I believe you already know him, his mentor in specialization was the same as yours.” He said. Oh, Daryl Dixon… your mentor had talked so much and fondly about him that sometimes you were even jealous. “He’s the Chief of the Pediatric Department.”

“Oh, I heard about him. Dr. Foster talked a lot about him, but unfortunately we didn’t have the chance to meet each other.” You replied.

“Well, I see that you are already good friends with Dr. Greene, so I’m going to let you in his hands. I have to see a patient before a surgery.” Michonne said before turning to leave the office and encounter with no other person than Dr. Dixon himself. “Look, here he is!”

You turned yourself to greet and introduce yourself to your new boss and was shocked to say the least, you almost choked on your spit. Dr. Dixon gave a small jump with the sight of you, which could go unnoticed for anyone, but it wasn’t for Michonne. Also, she saw how your eyes popped when you saw him. The man from the bar. The kind stranger that fucked you so good against a wall that you thought no one else would do it so good like him.

You breathed deeply before speaking. You said your name and last name and hold your hand to him. “It’s pleasure to meet you, Dr. Foster talked a lot about you.” You offered a shy small smile to the very serious man.

He looked at your hand and completely ignored it, then he looked at your eyes and it seemed as his blue orbs would make a hole on your soul. “Didn’t know now he was taking mediocre people as his apprentices. Maybe, ‘cause you were there to entertain him instead of learning.”

That was painful, it stabbed like a knife. You didn’t know why he was being like this. Before you could say anything, Hershel intervened. He knew how Daryl could be, but he was just being too much. “That’s not how you welcome a new co-worker, Dr. Dixon.” And then the old man turned to you. “Don’t care too much about it, he’s just in a bad mood today.”

He shouldn’t. He had no reason to be on a bad mood. You mean, you woke up as if the world was light, sweet and sunny. The only reason for him to be acting like this is that he was probably afraid of you telling every. Which you wouldn’t.

“Dr. Dixon, you’re responsible for our new doctor today. Show her around the hospital, the offices of the clinic and of course the room of the team where you’re working together.” Hershel commanded the younger man. “Please, try to behave.”

Daryl grunted and left the room, you took a quick look at the others and noticed Hershel wanted you to follow the other Doctor and Michonne had that look of “we’ll talk later about this.”.

You walked behind him trying to accompany his fast and long steps. You passed in front of places and he just shouted the names of it, without looking at you or explaining things correctly.

“Can you stop?!” You fastened your pace and stopped in front of him.

“Nah, I can’t. Now, move!” He tried putting you aside but you planted your feet strongly on the ground.

“Why are you acting like this? Are you afraid I’m telling someone? I won’t, ok?” You tried to mend things with him. “Now can you stop being an asshole?”

“Can ya stop trying to get yerself fired?” He threw it back at you, not that he really had the power to get you fired. Maybe just from his department.

“I’m not going to jump on your dick.” You said it low enough for only the two of you to hear. “Can you just be professional like any other normal human being?”

Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series) Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325 @hayley1998 @shadowcitrine

DIvider and mdni banner by @cafekitsune

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #daryl x reader #twd #deansapplepie #daryl fanfiction #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl x you #doctor dixon #doctor dixon au

[ghostboneswrites2]

Another fruit themed drabble 🍑

Daryl x Peach Reader

An awkward date.

(This isn’t super eventful, it’s just a writing exercise.)

(Fem!Reader) (Reader descriptions: outfit only)

-18+ MDNI-

Daryl had never been on a date before. Maybe it wasn’t a date, but it was probably the closest to one he’d ever get, so he was nervous all the same.

A boy of just 20, he had been offered a place to stay with his aunt if he could behave. That meant no alcohol, pot, or girls, as she put it. He had done well so far, but when you knocked on the door that morning with a fresh peach cobbler and grinned at him, all of his earthly senses melted away. He could only focus on you and your baby pink top that cut off right where your white skirt began.

When you gave your mother’s cobbler to Daryl’s aunt, whom you’d attended church with, she invited you in. As soon as she left the room you were smitten with her rough looking nephew. Within the time it took her to grab you all some ice cold sweet tea, he had already asked you over that night. Aunt Glenda would be at bingo for a few hours that evening, so it would have been perfect.

Perfect, that is, had he not been so damn nervous. He didn’t know how to talk to a girl like you, from the nice side of town.

When your gentle knock echoed into the small living room, he shot from the couch and farted to the door, gulping as it swung on the hinges to reveal your sweet smile.

“Evenin’.” You greeted.

“Hey.” He said awkwardly, cocking a half smile as he stepped aside to let you in.

Inside, he had some tea ready. He would have opted for booze, but all that woman kept in her house was milk and tea. She didn’t even believe in coffee. When he asked about it, she told him the lord blessed everyone with all the energy they need.

“I, uh — got us some drinks here.” He stuttered, grabbing the two glasses from the neatly arranged coasters on Glenda’s coffee table.

“Thanks.” You blushed as you took a sip. Admittedly, Glenda made the worst sweet tea, but you were used to it. She brought it to all the potlucks at church.

Daryl made a face as he set his glass down, and you giggled.

“Ya get used to it.” You admitted. He chuckled nervously and shoved his hands in his pockets.

After some uncomfortable small talk about where you were both from, he went ahead and set up a movie on the TV.

You both took a comfortable seat on Glenda’s sofa, which was covered in plastic for preservation. You both smiled awkwardly at the squeaky noises beneath you.

“Ya like old westerns?” He asked you as he clicked the remote.

“Not really.” You answered honestly. “But I figured that’s all she’d have.”

“You known my aunt for a long time?” He wondered.

“As long as I can remember.” You shrugged. “From church.”

“Mm. Never really did church much.” He said.

“It’s more of a social gathering if ya ask me.” You sighed. “Most people just go for appearances.”

“What about God?”

“What about him?” You snorted. “Don’t ya know God’s just there for appearances too?”

He thought about your words. He supposed you were right. After all, where had God been all his life?

As the movie progressed, you’d glance over at him and smirk as you inched closer to him. It wasn’t so smooth with the crinkling of plastic, but he didn’t mind it. He’d adjust himself each time to better fit you beside him. He’d peak over at you too, gulping as he turned his attention back to the screen.

Eventually you just nestled up against him, pulling his arm over your shoulders with a sigh.

“You’re allowed to touch me, Daryl Dixon.” You teased.

“Jus’ didn’t wanna make it weird.” He blurted.

“We’ll aren’t you a gentleman.” You remarked. He wasn’t like most of the guys you’d gone for in the past. He was reserved and polite, even if his manners weren’t proper.

When the movie ended, he checked the time.

“Damn, she’ll be back any minute.” He grumbled.

“Walk me out, then?” You requested. Without protest, he walked you out to the porch. You smirked as you walked backward toward your house across the street.

“Maybe next time we can kiss.” You wiggled your eyebrows. He tutted and shook his head.

“Night.” He called after you when you turned around. Women, he thought to himself. He’d never truly understand what made them tick.

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl x female reader #daryl twd #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x you #daryl x y/n

[hhughes]

♯ 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 ◞ 𝑮𝑩³⁴

✰ pairing ⤫ fem!bsf!reader x gabe perreault

✰ synopsis ⤫ in which gabe and his best friend finally get together after pining for each other for a long time and now they have to make up for lost time

✰ content ⤫ just some sweet fluff. obliviousness. me writing friends to lovers AGAIN. abrupt ending? suggestiveness at the end maybe…

✰ 💭 ⤫ gabe and friends to lovers? I simply had to! as always I hope you enjoy and please do tell me what you think <3

You were sitting in the dining hall next to Gabe, pressed into his side, his hand on your thigh drawing patterns absentmindedly. The guys were bickering back and forth but he wasn’t really paying attention, he was too focused on you. He fights a smile when you steal another grape off his tray, trying to be sneaky.

"Oh before I have to leave…" you say turning your body even more in Gabe's direction and putting your hand on his thigh and scrolling through your phone.

He bites his lip and takes a deep breath, trying to stop the fluttering feeling in his stomach as you show him two pictures of different colours.

“Okay, this one or this one?” you ask, swapping between the two photos.

“I like that one more, it’s the school’s colours.” Gabe says referring to the picture of the maroon nail polish.

“I like that one too. I gotta go or I’m gonna be late, but I’ll see you tonight?” you ask, dropping a kiss to Gabe’s cheek as you leave, bidding goodbye to the rest of the guys at the table.

“Dude, when are you gonna ask her out?” Ryan asks

“Never, we’re not like that.” Gabe answers

“Really? Cause I’m pretty sure everyone thinks you guys are dating.” Will says and Gabe shoots him a look that says traitor.

“No they don’t” Gabe argues

“Uh yes they do. I thought you guys were a couple for the first few months after we met. And why do you think no one makes a move on her?…because they think she’s taken.” Cutter says

Gabe hadn’t really thought about the fact that guys hadn’t really approached you. He can’t deny that he felt a sense of satisfaction that people thought you were his. But there was also a sense of disappointment and longing, because it wasn’t true no matter what other people wanted to believe.

“I don’t care what other people think, we’re not together.” Gabe replies

“But you wanna be, right?” Ryan asks and Gabe sighs. He really didn’t want to talk about this.

“It doesn’t matter, she doesn’t feel the same way.” Gabe says, a tone of finality in his voice.

“You’re kidding right? When I assumed you guys were together, most of the time it was because of things that she did. I mean, just five minutes ago she was practically sitting in your lap, looking at you with heart eyes and kissing you goodbye…If those aren’t signs that she feels the same way, I don’t know what is.” Cutter says and when Gabe doesn’t respond the guys thankfully move on to another topic of conversation.

-

When Gabe goes over to your place that night, he’s still thinking about the conversation he had earlier that day. Were you giving him signals? Maybe he should just ask you? But what if you weren’t sending him signals and you didn’t feel the same. Gabe doesn’t want to risk losing you if you don’t.

When he enters your apartment, he’s immediately met with the smell of popcorn and the sight of you cuddled up on the couch, wearing his hoodie, popcorn sitting on the little table at your side. He chuckles a little at the sight. The popcorn bowl was bigger than your head. You always make too much, so Gabe had taken over popcorn duties for the last few movie nights but he was running a bit late tonight and you were impatient so you went ahead and did it.

When Gabe takes a seat next to you on the couch, you immediately cuddle into his side, where you stay for the rest of the movie. Gabe didn’t really pay attention to the movie at all, his mind still thinking about whether or not he should ask you how you felt. He was pulled out of his thoughts when you turned to him abruptly while the credits rolled on the screen.

“I forgot to show you my nails! Do you wanna see them?” you ask and Gabe smiles while nodding, finding your excitement adorable.

You hold out your hands and he takes them both, holding them gently and inspecting your nails. He was expecting the slightly longer than normal maroon covered nails, what he wasn’t expecting were the little golden 34’s on each ring finger.

“Do you like them?” you ask a little hesitant.

“I love them,” he says, kissing both hands and you smile.

Signals. Surely these were signs that you had feelings for him…right? Gabe couldn’t go on any longer not knowing. He was going to drive himself insane. He just needed to ask you and accept whatever the fallout was of doing so.

He takes a deep breath and holds on tighter to both your hands, for support. “I need to ask you something.”

“Anything,” you answer

“I like you, as more than a friend. And I’m sorry if this is gonna mess things up between us but I can’t go on any longer wondering if you feel the same. I just need to know so that I can either try to move on or…” Gabe says, unable to even speak the words into existence if there were no chance of them being true.

“Gabe of course I like you…I’ve been doing everything I possibly could to make it clear that I like you…short of kissing you or just telling you,” you say

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Gabe asks

“Because I was scared. Terrified really. That you wouldn’t reciprocate my feelings and our friendship wouldn’t be the same afterwards. I thought you knew. I was actually starting to think that maybe you just didn’t have feelings for me.” you say a little sadly.

“No, not at all! I do have feelings for you. A lot of feelings. I can’t believe we could’ve been together all this time…” Gabe says, a little frustrated with himself that if he had taken this risk sooner, you could’ve gotten together months ago.

“Don’t think like that. I love that we both cherish our relationship so much that we didn’t wanna do anything to risk it. We’re just gonna have to make up for lost time.” you say and Gabe smiles a little, loving that you always seem to see the good in every situation.

You shriek when he stands up and throws you over his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” you ask laughter bubbling out of you.

“I’m making up for lost time,” Gabe says walking towards your bedroom.

If things were gonna go like he hopes, you’ll have the rest of your lives to make up for lost time.

#── ❛ 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐢’𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 ✗ GP34 #gabe perreault x reader #gabe perreault x yn #gabe perreault fic #gabe perreault fluff #gabe perreault blurb

[brainrot-of-a-thot]

girl- i'm a absolute whore for tagame😫 whenever you get the chance ofc, can you do head cannons on how they are in a relationship?

taken by jo togame.

or, what he’s like in a relationship, featuring: jo togame

a/n: yesssss another togame whore! pls, calling all togame whores, congregate to my blog. pls pls pls. still struggling with our power, but i wanted to try to get at least something out to y’all babes. ps, some of these headcanons were inspired by @togament (I hope that’s okay babes!) she recently presented some togame headcanons that just fit so well that I can’t help but adopt them myself.

post edit: also, babes, I’m fuckin speechless because we are five away from 300 followers — like??? our little family is growing so rapidly and I just love all of y’all to bits <33

c/w: this has nsfw headcanons y’all, so just heed that, fluff, relationship headcanons, sfw headcanons, fem!reader, implied height difference

the first thing to understand about jo togame is that when he falls, he falls hard. he falls in love with every little thing about you — even before entering a relationship, he has fallen for you, and thus his attention is always on you, so it’s inevitable that he will pick up on all your habits and quirks. it isn’t that he tucks these away as ammunition to embarrass you; in fact, the only way he will embarrass you with these is when he jets into excruciating detail about just how much he loves them.

and togame is doing this near constantly.

most times, it’s completely random — he’ll just spout off at the mouth over the tiniest things.

“your sneezes are so cute. they remind me of a kitten.”

“you’re scrunching your nose again. adorable.”

“did you know that your ears turn red when you blush? it’s lovely.”

this ability of togame’s to pinpoint every little detail about you also extends to changes in appearance — even those that aren’t drastic.

you wear your hair just slightly different than usual? oh, he’s talking about it. a lot. (more than likely noting how cute it is or how much it suits you)

you decide to change up your perfume for the day? his nose has already picked out every single nuance within the scent.

you decide to don dangle earrings instead of studs? expect him to run his fingers over them and compliment them.

on that same token, if ever you wished for a hypeman, congratulations. togame is your hype man one hundred percent.

you know how some guys may freak out or become hella possessive if they see their girl going out in booty shorts and a revealing top? not togame. nope. he’s on you like fire to wood, kissing all over you and gushing about how sexy his girl is.

this doesn’t mean togame doesn’t get possessive; he does. very much so. despite being chill and seemingly uncaring about your appearance, he’s the most possessive man you’ll ever interact with. togame just doesn’t see the sense in freaking out about you showing off your body a little.

after all, it’s such a treat to see you glowing with confidence, to see you comfortable enough in your own skin to don such attire — it’s all he’s ever wanted, for you to see yourself in the same way he sees you. sexy and cute and beautiful.

just don’t let another man look at you for too long. or try to talk to you. or cat call you. togame is losing his shit before you can even blink.

let’s just say he’s sent more than one man to the icu because of instances such as these.

violence aside, togame is a pure gentleman. you know, the type who opens and closes your car door, or walks you all the way to your front door, or pulls out your chair for you, the type who, at the end of the night, plants kisses in places that have you feeling giddy and flustered — such as your palm or inner wrist.

you know that trend of handing someone an orange and seeing if they will peel it for you? togame will peel it for you. except, he’ll be grabbing it from your hand the second you pick it up to peel it for you.

it doesn’t matter if you’re struggling to open something or not — togame simply takes it upon himself to open it for you. snacks, drinks, peelable fruits, it doesn’t matter. don’t even think about giving your little hands exercise when he’s around.

speaking of peeling things, togame likes to peel your clothes off of you. slowly. he likes to enjoy the sight of your bare skin revealing itself to him gradually (especially so if you’re laid out across his mattress, flustered and breathing heavily and so needy for him) and it’s as arousing as it is torturous. also, don’t try to hide parts of your body from him; he prefers to be gentle with you, but he will use his strength on you if need be.

togame doesn’t fuck you. togame makes love to you. togame wants you to feel the depth of his adoration in everything he does — in every slow roll of his hips, in every open-mouthed kiss he litters your body with, in every softly breathed word against your skin. he wants you to feel it until you’re so full of it you may explode (it is not uncommon for his message to reach you so deeply that you start tearing up).

though, if you’re in desperate need of a good fuck, togame will deliver that too. and, oh, he’s ruthless with it. all harsh thrusts and bruising holds, filth spat directly into your ear and kisses so sloppy that you’re drenched in your spit and his.

this, ironically, happens the most just after he’s sent a man to the icu for becoming too bold with his woman.

and since we’re on this track, let’s talk about the way togame kisses. oh, lord, your ovaries won’t be able to handle it.

because togame kisses you like you’re the only girl in the world. like you’re something so precious that he can’t imagine a universe in which his lips aren’t fastened to yours.

he’s the type to cup your nape, cheek or jaw and guide you to his lips. it’s always so soft at the start — a mere press of his mouth to yours. but it doesn’t stay that way. because within moments, togame is coaxing your lips and tongue into his rhythm, slow and languid and driven by such passion that it’s overwhelming.

togame tends to smile a lot, too. or breathe happy little sighs directly into your mouth. when togame kisses you, it’s as if the action has produced a bubble around the two of you — all background noise fades, and time slows to a crawl, until all you can focus on is this moment. it’s easy to get lost within togame, to get lost in his taste and rhythm, to get lost in the moment itself.

even seconds-long kisses feel like century-long embraces.

this sentiment applies to all affectionate embraces — hugs from togame are the absolute best. his arms wrap around you and engulf you in his body, until all you can sense is togame. his warmth, his scent, his heartbeat. his feelings. it’s all there, detailed in every twitch of his muscles.

togame is the best big spoon, as well. he tends to curl his body around yours completely, with one arm shoved beneath the pillow and the other draped around your waist. he also likes to nudge his leg between yours, until his thick thigh is nestled right against your core and your thighs are spread over his. it’s surprisingly comfortable and relieves a lot of aches — especially in the days that aunt flo makes a visit.

all in all, there is one sentiment that is displayed brazenly in every single thing togame does — and that’s that he loves you boldly and unapologetically. being taken by jo togame is truly the best flex in your arsenal.

#wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker #jo togame x reader #togame jo x reader #togame x reader

[pumpkinbxtch]

hey, ik requests are closed but if you could do this one, i'll be very grateful. just remember, if you don't want to, you don't have to.

i was thinking if post-trial apollo, meets the reader, after the trial (can the reader be a child of Hades? like a child of Hades would be so iconic), love at first sight (fuck, why is this so cliche 😭😭) and tries to spend more time with the reader. the reader is new to the entire camp thing, and is getting more used to it, and grows closer to Apollo. but he's like scared to admit he's in love bc he thinks, that just like all his past lovers, the reader would run away, or kill herself, or fall into deep trouble, but after some really had event in which he almost loses y/n, he goes all haywire, confessing everything and it becomes a cute, fluffy scene together

AGAIN ik you aren't taking in requests, so if you don't want to do it, it's totally fine. love so many of your fics btw ♥️♥️

i love you, isn't that the worst thing you've ever heard?

— apollo/lester x child of hades!reader

warnings: none a/n: Hello beautiful person. You're seeing this, now you know that I take your request and I want to say why and it's because you asked me so nice that I couldn't resist. I have corazón de pollo which is something like being very sensitive or being warm-hearted. Anyway, let me know if you liked it. I hope it was like that and thank you for reading me, for your support. ❤️ Kisses from Pluto! ha ha

Your legs settled back over Apollo’s knees, and he kept them in place with his hands, letting out a snort.

— You’re pretty comfortable with a god, aren’t you? — His pretentious tone just made you smile and shrug.

— You didn’t move my feet, did you? — you replied in the same tone, and he leaned against the cabin wall. It was true, and if it were up to him, he never would.

— Whatever…— he muttered, watching you lie back down, putting your attention back on a comic book Will Solace had lent you, saying it was based on one of his favorite movies, which made you interested in reading it. You thought you and Will weren’t that different, and you liked him but not in ‘that’ way, just as a friend. After all, Will was becoming part of the family with your brother Nico because they seemed to have something slowly brewing.

— How many times have you said I love you?— you asked out of the blue, still not taking your eyes off the comic. Apollo almost choked on his own saliva.

— What’s that about? — he said evasively. He didn’t want to talk about it because if he remembered correctly, all those times had ended badly. He tried to catch your eyes but found the glossy cover of the comic in the way.

You shrugged and turned the page, continuing with the same topic.

— I heard Nico say that to Will once when they thought I was out of our cabin, but I was just in the bathroom.

— Hmmm. And?

— Nothing, just that Nico doesn’t say it often. I’ve only heard him say it to his sister Bianca, his real sister. Also to Hazel, to me, and to Will.

Now Apollo understood but played dumb.

— I don’t know.

You tapped his thigh with your foot.

— Of course you do.

And obviously, he did, but stayed silent, hoping the comic would distract you enough.

— I think they’re falling in love — you stated, laughing at something you read. Apollo could never understand how demigods managed with ADHD; now, it just seemed like a curse.

— Well, I suppose.

His half-hearted responses annoyed you, and you put the comic down with a frown, and he apologized with his eyes.

— Have you fallen in love recently?

That question threw him off. Apollo gently moved your legs aside to sit on the edge of the bed with his heart racing and a pout on his face.

— Where are you going? — you asked, concerned, setting the comic aside and sitting next to him. Apollo smiled sheepishly. He didn’t like lying to you, but whenever you started guiding the conversation that way, he had to find a way to escape.

— I need to do something in olympus, they just told me.

You made a face and nodded. You never got involved in that; after all, he was a god.

In the end, Apollo sat moodily on his throne, watching time pass at Camp Half-Blood. Since his return as the sun god, things had changed in his heart, so he found himself more in that place despite what the gods said, which reminded him of when he met you.

You had recently arrived and caught attention for reaching an age where any demigod would have died, but shortly after, if not the same day, everyone knew you weren’t just any demigod. You were a child of Hades. Of course, the most delighted with this was Nico, who welcomed you and made sure you were never alone.

Things were fresh, so Apollo ended up in your close circle until it became very close. If Apollo was at Camp Half-Blood, you were with him, and it didn’t take long for him to fall in love with you, though you hadn’t realized it yet.

You felt safe growing up by his side; no one would mess with you since you were a child of the big three and a close friend of a god. Some fools judged you for your company, but they were afraid to approach when you were – according to Apollo – an adorable person.

The god watched through the fire as you thrived in camp after his unexpected departure, and to him, you were doing too well, though some things were too good for his liking, and he couldn’t deny it; you were charming in more than one way, which obviously attracted campers like Harley, that son of Hephaestus who sometimes gave you cute things like that pomegranate made of metal leaves. A gift that seemed very familiar when he saw Leo flirting with Calypso.

Leo flirting with Calypso.

Leo flirting.

The god stood up and admired the scene closely. Harley had blushed cheeks while giving you the gift, and you smiled gratefully. No way, he knew the sons of Hephaestus were bold, but he never imagined someone would be so obvious with you due to your lack of understanding of indirect hints. They approached but never that close, and he should have guessed, but also, he wasn’t one to get angry.

You received the gift and admired it closely, but only thanked him briefly, which seemed enough proof of your affection to the son of Hephaestus, something Apollo obviously loathed as well as keeping him awake the rest of the night.

He didn't know why (well he did) but the god ended sitting at the dining pavilion, his nails digging into the table.

— Everything okay? — Your voice snapped him out of his trance, and he smiled. You always seemed to have a radar for when he was near.

— Will fell in love with Nico, and Nico with him. Do you think they both realized it or just one?— His question took you by surprise, and more than making you think twice, it excited you that he finally answered that kind of question since he always seemed to have a repulsion to them.

You sat beside him, and Apollo gave you a sweet look, waiting for your answer.

— Maybe Nico and Will know, but Will could be waiting for Nico to give clear signals about it.

— Maybe Nico is scared.

— Does he think Will isn’t?

You both fell silent. It was clear; it was in the air, you weren’t really talking about your brother and Will.

— What’s the worst thing he could say to Will? — you asked, your hand reaching for Apollo’s to intertwine your fingers. The blonde swallowed and suddenly felt breathless.

— I don’t know, but I can think of something.

Apollo made a face and turned a little more towards you, his cheeks red and his eyes shiny. He was afraid of hurting you, of things not working out as they did with his previous lovers; he could never afford to make you suffer when he already knew the degree of consequence it would have in his life, but beyond his good or bad karma, he cared about you. He loved you enough never to try to have you.

Your patience was reaching its limit, and although the son of Hephaestus was cute, sweet, a good match… your heart belonged to someone since the first moment you saw him.

—Apollo… —your voice called him with a bit of seriousness, a peculiar tone that made the god realize his time for redundancies was over.

— I love you, isn’t that the worst I could say?

Your eyes widened with hope, and you moved a little closer to him, bumping knees.

— From Nico to Will? — you asked, not wanting to humiliate yourself.

Apollo’s blue eyes examined you suspiciously. The responsibility would fall on him; he was never the best at hiding his feelings, but if your happiness depended on it, the first moment he saw your life in danger, he wouldn’t hesitate to disappear from it. For now, a confession was something very innocent.

The sun god turned to you with a bit more evident confidence and didn’t let go of your hand; instead, he kissed it.

— No. From me to you…

#maría's shared dreams☆｡ﾟ✧ #pjo hoo toa #trials of apollo #trials of apollo x you #trials of apollo x reader #apollo x you #apollo x reader #apollo pjo #apollo pjo x reader #lester papadopoulos x you #lester papadopoulos x reader #lester papadopoulos x y/n #lester papadopoulos #pjo #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo apollo #apollo x child of hades! reader

[fuck-customers]

(👩🏻‍🦳🔥🐉 to find later - 04.20.24)

Soooo I think my boss just crossed lines into legal issue territory. Just got done texted with a, well as of today ex, coworker. She works customer service for our little shop but with our boss going micro-managing from hell it’s now only when boss lady doesn’t want to work. So her hours and days working are all over the place.

My ex coworker has a second job but the hours for both aren’t cutting it. So she told our boss ‘hey heads up I’m gonna have to file for underemployment with how little you are working me’ she showed me the text and she was polite. (I wouldn’t have said anything my that’s just me)

Well boss lady responded ‘well I am going to dispute if you do so because you refuse to work in office’ the last time my ex coworker was asked to come into the office was JULY 2023. She said no problem and came in.

Understandably ex coworker was upset saying how that was a messed up move and how she’s been accommodating with her crazy schedule the last 6 years(almost always on call, almost every weekend, is lucky if the boss lady let her take 1 vacation a year) with the fact she hasn’t gotten a raise in two years (same with me).

Well boss just went ‘fine your fired effective immediately’ when ex coworker asked to have her pto cashed out with her last check just got a no.

Funny thing is ex coworker said she applied to work customer service with the website that host our shop. I told her I hope she got it and good luck with her applications. (Yes I am currently looking for a new job. Been putting in at minimum 10 applications a day but so far only a couple interviews with a ‘sorry but we went with someone else’)

Posted by admin Rodney

[ofallthingsnasty]

there is an absolute drought of dark Smoker content so can I request a ticket with him for a Long Night of Museums?? Pretty please with a cherry on top 🙏♥️

💕💕💕 you're so right... Smoker, my love... Instead of taking some souvenirs home with you, you end up as one with that man 🤭

🎂nasty's 2024 birthday event 🎂

Your order:

1 x ticket to The Long Night of Museums with Smoker! (Adult only, exhibition might contain content such as stalking and kidnapping, proceed at your own risk.

Smoker is the type of man you only meet because his usual bar is directly next to your cheap little hotel - blue with smoke, wooden interior, two games of darts and the TV always tuned into some type of sports game and him sitting right by the barkeep, nipping at his beer for two whole hours. You only stumble in on your first night because you really, really want a beer after a long, exhausting day of traveling. And instead of paying for that overpriced crap they offer in the hotel lobby that you’d have to down all on your own in your hotel room, you’d rather spend an hour with total strangers who smoke one cigarette for every word they speak. It’s convenient, the neon sign hanging by the door tells you it’s cheap and not too packed - and that’s all you need right now. What you don’t expect is two meters of bulk and cigars waiting right by the bar, tacky Hawaiian shirt inappropriately open for the spring weather. He’s intimidating, blocking your path to a cheap stout - but you’re grown and in a strange city. You figure you’ll never see him again anyway, so you swallow that little tickle of nervousness and order a pint of whatever they have on tab. And, despite your flighty stomach, you stay right by the bar - booths are for multiple people, not for out-of-towners who can’t handle the places they wander into. It goes pretty well, all things considered. Aside from an initial greeting, he doesn’t even look your way, too busy grumbling into his own pint and watching whatever match is on up on the ancient screen. It’s bearable enough that you come back the next day - a long, surprisingly hot day of sightseeing and dragging your feet through pedestrian areas has you thirsty for another beer and you’re yet again too tired to wander any further than your hotel room. The comfort of being able to simply fall into your bed after getting a little bit of a buzz going trumps the pull of flashy bars and expensive cocktails. So you poke your head through the door of the dingy little pub again and, like he’s part of the inventory, two-cigars-hawaiian-shirt guy already sits pretty by the counter, in that very same spot as yesterday. You greet him with a little too much enthusiasm but get nothing more than a mumbled answer back. 

The next day, you feel strangely watched on your trek through the city. It’s pretty obvious that you’re a tourist (the puzzled looks to your maps app might be a dead giveaway), still, there are dozens, if not hundreds of you at any given little park or museum or statue. It’s not like the locals aren’t used to people traipsing through the city center looking at everything as if they’re seeing color for the first time, no, the city is on every damn ‘top 10 must see’ lists that have been plaguing the internet for decades - but you simply can’t shake it. No matter how long you spend pouring over paintings at a gallery, no matter how slowly you take your lunch in an eclectic little bakery, it never stops. You all but flee to that shabby little bar in the evening, looking to seek cover among the many eyes of strangers once again. A little buzz and handful of potential witnesses (should anything unsavory happen) sound safer than staring at the flimsy lock on your hotel room’s door until you collapse from exhaustion. Or maybe you just want to shake off that nasty feeling of being followed with one too many beers right now - you can’t really decide. That night, two-cigars-hawaiian-shirt guy doesn’t sit by the bar when you enter. He comes in, almost dawdling, half an hour after you. You’re already halfway through your first pint and have no intention of stopping at just one when he sits himself down with so much heft right beside you, it actually makes you sputter. It almost feels like your stool shakes when he plops down and orders his own drink, absentmindedly biting his cigars. It takes you just another pint to actually talk to him. And a third one to realize that he’s stupid hot. Sure, you registered his sheer size two nights ago already, but he’s actually ruggedly handsome: well-groomed and tastefully gray in a rough way that reminds you of some sort of 80s action movie character. He doesn’t talk much. It doesn’t bother you in your slightly inebriated state; every question is met with only a short, almost bitten out answer but it’s all made up by the way his voice seems to crawl right underneath your skin, deep and gruff but irresistible and somewhat smooth. You joke and laugh and sway around enough for the two of you, feeling weirdly safe with this total stranger. Smoker, that’s his nickname, and you think it’s oh-so-fitting and funny in your haze. He seems to have taken a liking to you, too - because even though he grumbles all the way through it, he even tolerates a game of darts that you spectacularly lose. It’s a wonderful evening, you think, and it’s nice to properly socialize after two days of looking at dusty museums and flashy sights, and even better today, after you’ve been uneasy every waking minute. You’re happy and drunk and even gutsy enough to feel up the abs of that handsome stranger who supports your shaky legs to guide you to the hotel room, trying to get the most out of this little chance meeting.

At least until you wake up in an unfamiliar place the next morning, the wonderful, airy feeling of a fun night out replaced by sheer and utter dread. You can barely register that your hands and feet are tied together, that it’s not the alcohol making you feel nauseous but rather the position you seem to have spent the last couple hours in- because just a second later, Smoker’s face is all you see. 

That gravely voice you found so charming yesterday suddenly makes your stomach bubble in raw fear as he tells you to stop fighting and that you’re better off with him, anyway - seeing as you’re way too weak on your own and he's been looking for a little spouse, anyway. And you'll do. 

#birthday event 2024 #/smoker #/one piece #yandere one piece #smoker x reader #one piece x reader #tw.kidnapping #tw.alcohol

[eevees-hobbies]

Kyojuro's Penchant for Mirror Foreplay - NSFW

Author’s Note: I swear that I am obsessed with other characters that aren’t Kyojuro Rengoku! I like OTHER anime! He’s just…perfect. Like they really made the perfect man and then stole him from us!

Content Warnings: Female Reader X Kyojuro Rengoku Smut. Foreplay only.

Word Count: 1.1K

Reblogs, likes, and comments are always appreciated! Minors and ageless blogs, please don’t interact. 

---------

Kyojuro Rengoku loves the sight of you, which means you better either share the same sentiment or get comfortable with this reality.  The Flame Hashira could ravish you anywhere—and he does—but he has a special place in his heart for taking you in front of a mirror, your bodies smacking thunderously against one another, your breasts bouncing wildly, and your face smashed against the cool surface of the mirror as he takes you from behind. Yeah, he has a real penchant for mirrors.

One of his favorite things to do is sit you both down in front of a full-length mirror, your back pressed against his firm chest, his bent legs draped over yours in a way that pins them firmly in place in case you even think about trying to squirm your way out of his grasp.

He’ll begin by peppering soft kisses against your shoulders, a low growl emitting from his throat as he takes in your natural scent. He especially relishes in the smell of you if you’ve been participating in activities that made you sweat throughout the day.

While kissing each tender spot on your neck—spots that Kyo knows so well because he’s studied and committed every spot that elicits a groan, tremble, and whimper to memory. His deft fingers sliding your kimono off, your naked frame shivering at the coolness in the air causing goose bumps to raise your skin. As quickly as he tosses the fabric over your heads, his large hands cup your breasts in his palms. He lets out a soft moan against your neck, his mouth latching onto the skin and sucking, leaving a trail of bright, red hickeys.

“I find myself just as enraptured by you as the day we first met, my flame. Gods, you’re so…”

His voice trails off as he pinches your nipples between his calloused fingers, groaning as they harden and pucker just for him.

“Just look at you. I can drink you in all day.” Your eyes look up to your reflections, and you shiver as his hungry, piercing eyes are locked in on yours. 

“K-kyo, stop staring!” 

“Please don’t ask me to do the impossible, my flame.”

You feel his strong legs tense against yours as he uses them to spread your outstretched limbs wider, your glistening sex now reflected at you both. Your face grows hot being so open and exposed—even if this is the umpteenth time he’s placed you in this exact same predicament. 

“I love every inch of you,” he mutters against your skin. You feel his heart pounding against your back and something firmer and slick pressing against the top of your ass.

His hands travel downwards, raking through your pubic hair, two of his fingers pressing gently against your labia and spreading them apart, exposing the fleshy inside of your pussy, your opening already drooling in anticipation for his touch. 

“Look at how ready she is, my love.”

He dips a middle finger into your sex and brings it up to his mouth, tongue flicking past his lips and tasting you like a starving man. 

“F-fuck, you’re delicious,” he lets out a low groan; his now saliva-slicked finger travels back down to your aching cunt, and gingerly strokes your clit, the sensitive bundle of nerves feeling vulnerable and wanting. 

Your head falls back to rest on Kyojuro’s shoulder, but his other free hand, which was previously fondling your breast, grips your jaw, pulling it back down so that your eyes are back onto your reflection in the mirror.

“I need you to see what I’m doing to you. I need you to see how beautiful you are.”

His hot breath stirs the tips of your hair that frame your face and tickles your ear. Suddenly, your body feels hotter, and you realize that it’s not only your arousal that’s creating a sheen of sweat on your chest but his too. As his eyes roam over your body, but especially over your cunt, his body temperature shoots up, and precum drips down the length of his pulsating tip. 

He now has two fingers against your clit, rubbing them in swift circular motions, his grip on your jaw unrelenting, forcing you to watch him and how he pleasures your body. 

You dig your heels into the floor, your hips bucking up as the burning in your lower abdomen intensifies.

Kyo’s thighs clamp down onto yours now—the weight and power of them so very apparent, keeping you in place—which would feel torturous and cruel if it were anyone else succumbing you to the immense pressure shooting through your veins.

Every muscle in your body is telling you to get away from the intense orgasm you feel building inside of you. You jerk your hips upward in desperation, but Kyojuro revels in you coming undone, even if that means he leaves you a trembling mess. 

“Hmm, where could you possibly think you’re going, my flame,” his tongue licks at your earlobe, his typically resonant voice deep and husky in your ear. 

Your words catch in your throat, barely able to sputter your pleas, “I c-can’t t-take…!”

“But you will take it. Endure it, my love,” he dips his fingers into your cunt; you both moan, you, because his fingers make you feel full, and him because your sex desperately squeezes at his fingers, and he can only imagine that same sensation on his cock.

His fingers plunge into your gushing pussy, rubbing every inch of your velvety walls, the motions of his fingers making lewd squelching sounds. 

“Touch your needy clit for me,” he commands as the tips of his fingers massage the soft, spongey spot deep in you. 

You whimper as you bring a shakey hand to your clit, the pressure of your fingers against your twitching flesh and Kyojuro’s fingers inside of you, making your moans louder until they’re ringing in both your ears. 

Your eyes find his half-lidded ones in the mirror once again, and you let out a squeak as his piercing and prying eyes make you cum. 

Kyojuro lets you ride the wave on his fingers, cooing words of appraisal in your ear, “that’s my girl.” 

He removes his fingers again and brings them up to his hungry mouth, and sucks your wetness clean from every inch. Once satisfied, he places soft kisses against the knuckles of your hand.

“Hmm,” he growls softly, “you always set me ablaze.” 

As you tremble mercilessly against him, the effects of the orgasm still rupturing through your body, you realize that his grip on you hasn’t lessened; in fact, it feels firmer. As he slides his hand back down to your quivering hole and pulls your face toward his so your mouths connect,  you realize that Kyojuro fully intends to have you both placed in front of the mirror for quite some time.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kyojuro rengoku #kyojuro x reader #kny #rengoku kyojuro smut #kny reader insert #rengoku kyojuro

[bullet-prooflove]

The Necklace: Kimball Cho x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989@caitlinrosa@mcfriggingonagall@kniselle@aiko24k

Companion piece to Break

You still wear the necklace that Cho gave you. You keep it tucked under your blouse so no one else can see it. It’s a small gold medallion with a Chinese character etched into the beaten surface. You developed a habit when the two of you were together, of toying with it, of rubbing your thumb over the engraving.

“It means protection.” He’d told you as he’d helped to fasten it around your neck. “I don’t believe in it but every little helps right?”

You’d caught a bullet the day before. The vest had held but it had scared the living hell out of him when he’d heard about from your partner. He’d come over to you place that night to see for himself, undressed you, loved you.

The bruising had been coming out by then, a purple blossom over the place where your heart resided. You’d fallen sleep wrapped up in his arms that night and he had stayed awake listening to the sound of your breathing, replaying how much he could have lost.

He gives you the necklace the next day because he’ll do anything to tip the odds in your favour, even something as ridiculous as a protection talisman.

It’s a year later and the two of you aren’t together anymore, you haven’t been since he ended things because it got a little too real, made him feel a little too vulnerable. He regrets that, that he chose to run when he should have stayed.

The two of you still work in the same building, different departments but he still has to live with that decision, he has to face the consequences of his actions every damn day.

Tonight it’s worse. It’s past midnight and he’s sitting at his desk finishing up reports because he doesn’t want to go back to an empty apartment when he glances up across the corridor and sees your desk light still on, your brow furrowed in concentration. A glimpse of gold captures the light and he realises your fingers are toying with the chain that’s looped around your throat. His breath catches in his throat because he realises it’s the pendant that he gave you, that you still wear it after all this time.

It gives him hope, hope that maybe one day you’ll forgive him, that he can make you understand it was never about you, it was his own demons he was contending with.

It's three in the morning when you bump into each other at the elevator, he’s finally decided to call it quits and you’re lagging, he can tell from the way you keep rubbing at your eyes. When the elevator arrives he gestures for you to step in first. The entire ride you stand beside each in silence, watching the floor numbers on the electronic panel as the elevator descends.  

It’s when you get to the parking lot that you realise the lights on the left side where you’ve parked your car are out. They’ve been having issues with flickering for a few days now.

“Let me walk you to your car.” Cho requests because he hates the thought of you alone in the dark. He’s worked too many cases that start with circumstances just like this and he won’t be one of those people you see crying on TV who say things like ‘If only…”

He expects you to fight him, to remind him you’re a trained CBI agent, one that carries a gun and teaches seminars on hand to hand combat but you don’t.

“Thank you.” You say to his immense surprise. “I’d appreciate it.”

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