#flying around the place like he pays rent

[2cupids]

𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘 𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐔𝐄𝐒 | 𝐤. 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

warnings — sugar daddy!hongjoong, readers in her 20s, hongjoong’s in his 40s, pet names, oral (m. receiving), f.ingering, cowgirl,choking, fluff at the end.

sugar daddy!hongjoong who takes you to buy a new dress any time he takes you out for dinner or when you have to attend events with him. you have at least 40 different dresses you could choose from at this point but it doesn’t matter to hongjoong.

when he can’t accompany you to shop for a dress because he has business to attend to, he simply gives you his card and tells you to pick the prettiest one and treat yourself to whatever else you want to that day.

but more often than not, he flies you out to italy to have your dresses custom made. sometimes he’ll send a sketch ahead of you of what he wants to see you in and let you talk with the designer about changing any details that you don’t like.

he wants you to have the best of the best, something other people can’t get their hands on.

sugar daddy!hongjoong who has no shame about renting out the entire floor of a restaurant for just the two of you. when you ask him his reason, he says that he just “prefers it this way.”

sugar daddy!hongjoong that lets you pick out your own penthouse.

he brings you along with him while he goes around looking at different places, citing the reason being that he’s “expanding his real estate portfolio”.

he’s constantly asking you what you think of each place, whether you could see yourself living there, how you would decorate the place, etc. you think it’s silly when he writes a check to buy the one that you liked the most but you don’t pay it too much mind.

that is until later that day when he hands you the keys.

“it’s all yours baby. i’ve already got movers packing up your old place, they should be here in an hour or two. is that alright with you?”

sugar daddy!hongjoong who loves surprising you with random shopping sprees. he likes surprising you with gifts and all, but he’d rather have you pick exactly what you like.

he could sit watch you try on outfits all day if it means he gets to see the way your eyes sparkle.

sugar daddy!hongjoong that was a bit of tsundere especially when you first met.

he has trouble expressing his love and admiration for you but he actively works to try to get better.

sugar daddy!hongjoong that enjoys sharing his hobbies with you, one of them being customizing clothes and shoes, giving them a personal touch.

you tend to make a mess whenever you work with the art supplies, accidentally getting paint and marker stains all over yourself. you find it bothersome but hongjoong finds it cute. to him, your clumsiness just adds to your charming qualities.

sugar daddy!hongjoong who gets excited whenever you let him choose your next hairstyle. if you’re hesitant about trying a certain style or color, he encourages you to do so, as long as you’re comfortable with it. he’s always complimenting you and praising you.

despite his love of picking your hairstyles, he loves when you decide to just wear your beautiful natural hair as well.

the same thing goes for your nails too. oh, and he always makes sure you get your toes done too so don’t even try to argue with him. if you’re out of the country and need a new set or a fill in, he’ll fly out your chosen nail tech.

sugar daddy!hongjoong that’s like putty in your hands whenever you flutter those pretty lashes of yours at him.

sugar daddy!hongjoong that not only likes to have custom dresses made for you but also have custom lingerie pieces made for you as well.

one of his favorites is an emerald green set with a garter belt and matching lacy stockings that have his initials ‘KHJ’ on the center gore of the bra.

sugar daddy!hongjoong wouldn’t call himself an exhibitionist but he will touch and tease you (discretely) in public settings or where others are present.

like while his chauffeur is driving you home, he’ll let his hand rest on your thigh, letting it slip under your dress and inch closer to your core until his fingers are hovering right in front of your soaked panties.

“don’t make a sound and i’ll fuck you to sleep when we get home.” he whispers in your ear as his fingers move your underwear to the side, finally making contact with your clit.

sugar daddy!hongjoong who possessiveness makes itself known in the bedroom. he wants to hear you tell him that you’re his and that he’s the only one who can make you feel good.

tell him what he wants to hear or he will slow down and eventually stop what he’s doing all together until he gets what he wants. no amount of squirming around on the bed or whining will help you.

“didn’t i ask you a question? tell me whose pussy this is.. or would you rather be left high and dry? your choice baby.”

sugar daddy!hongjoong who thinks you look so pretty when your mouth is full of his dick. he likes to hold your head in place while he fucks your pretty mouth.

“such a good girl for me. gonna stay like that and let me cum down your throat?”

sugar daddy!hongjoong who wraps his hand around your neck while you’re bouncing on his cock and it makes you see stars.

he likes the feeling of your walls clenching around him while you try to focus on riding him, the lack of oxygen slowly getting to you.

sugar daddy!hongjoong that likes it rough but makes sure he takes his time with you often, giving you good old fashioned love-making to remind you of how much he loves and cares for you.

sugar daddy!hongjoong that can be having a terrible day but once he sets eyes on you, his worries and frustration fade away.

sugar daddy!hongjoong who falls in love with you more and more every time he looks into your big, gorgeous eyes.

it’s been more than just a business relationship to him and he’s been feeling that way for a long time now.

he hopes to one day he’ll be lucky enough to be able to call you his wife.

#this is kinda ass sorry y’all #ateez smut #kim hongjoong #hongjoong smut #kim hongjoong smut #ateez hard hours #kpop smut #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez x black reader #kpop x black reader #kpop x poc reader

[deathbecomesthem]

Eddie Munson x Best friend!reader | ~1K

Summary: It's the perfect solution. You need a place to stay, he needs someone to help with the rent.

*There be some male masturbation below.

A/N: I don't know. I was supposed to be writing something else. I just think they're neat. Will there be more? Who fucking knows, I certainly don't.

---

It was a stupid idea born out of necessity. All of the most memorable things in life begin that way. You needed somewhere cheap and immediately available and his roommate ran off with the bartender he met less than a month ago. These are the days to remember - early 20s when life can change at the flick of a zippo in a dark alleyway. That’s what got Gareth, the girl that lit his cigarette. He never stopped seeing her in the soft glow of that low flame, and it left Eddie without someone to pay the other half of the rent.

And there you were, broken hearted and bleeding in front of him. In need. And he could push away those thoughts that linger in his quiet and empty bedroom in the privacy of the night. He could make a space for you, he could help you. So he did. It all came together over the hashbrowns and pancakes seasoned by your tears. Your best friend, Eddie, made a proposal that would save the day and be perfect for both of you.

Eddie Munson - your hero with a spare room and the promise of an escape from that motherfucking dickhead that stained your sheets with that girl from his office.

—

It’s the first full day, and Eddie is standing in his own kitchen with his cock pressed painfully hard against his fly at the sight of you bending down to fish the griddle out from the low cupboard next to the oven. He bites the inside of his cheek until the taste of metal hits the tip of his tongue. He adjusts himself and clears his throat while he watches your hips jiggle. The blue and purple wings of the butterfly on the soft love handle above your left him seem to flap with the movement of your arms.

“Uh, when the fuck did you get that?” Eddie’s question startles you. Your head bangs against the shelf in the cupboard your elbow deep into. “Oh shit, are you ok?”

“Yeah,” you back out of the small space and stand with your hand on the top of your head, “I think I’ll make it.” 

The first thing you notice when you look at Eddie is the red at the top of his ears. This is something you rarely get to see because of the way his shaggy curls hang around his face. This morning his hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail at the base of his neck, and those hot ears are on full display. You think, I wonder what they would feel like against my tongue,

These are the kinds of thoughts that you’ve been having for Eddie for a long time. Months. Years maybe. These are the kinds of thoughts that make this entire arraignment the worst idea. These are the kinds of thoughts that keep you company in the dark when you chase after secret pleasure in the privacy of your own touch.

“So.” Eddie’s hands are gripping the back of the vinyl chair on the opposite side of the small kitchen table from where you're standing. “So, when did you get that tattoo?”

Your eyebrows pinch together in thought, but your hand travels back to touch the marked skin before your mind catches up. It feels hot at the thought of his gaze scanning across it. You can practically feel the inked skin dancing against your fingers.

“Oh! God, I forget it’s there.” You smile and can feel heat creep across your skin at not only the question, but also in the way his eyes look black. The way he shifts from foot to foot. You can’t help but let your own eyes scan across the inked skin of his arm while you think of how to answer. “I got it a few months ago. It’s stupid. A butterfly? It’s embarrassing.”

Eddie sighs and smiles. He turns his head a little. It’s a shy kind of gesture you’ve seen him do before, but without his hair to obscure his lips you can see that secret lift of his lips. It makes your knees feel weak to see it, and you think about running your fingers across his cheek. You think about his eyes fluttering at your soft touch.

“It suits you. You shouldn’t be embarrassed.” Eddie clears his throat again and turns his head to look out of the small window above the kitchen sink. He doesn’t know that this gives you the perfect view of his long neck. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

“Oh, ok. I’m making some homefries,” at your words, Eddie meets your gaze again and it knocks the breath out of you for a beat. Your next words come out on an exhale, and you want to shrink to the size of a grain of salt so he’ll stop looking at you, “how do you like your eggs?”

“However you make them, Sweetheart. I’ll be back soon.” You watch Eddie spin on his heels and walk awkwardly down the hallway before returning to the task at hand. Coffee, homefries, and eggs as a thank you to Eddie for letting you move in so quickly. You laugh at the shake in your hands and think about how stupid you are for letting your imagination run wild like this. This is Eddie, your Eddie. These foolish fantasies need to chill out. You can’t live like this.

—

Eddie’s head is pressed against the tile in the shower, warm water flows down his body in rivulets. He thinks about the way the purples and blues danced on your skin. The way those pretty lined stretch marks bracket around it. He thinks about the way his fingers would feel pressed into that skin, and squeezes his aching cock the way he wants to squeeze you. 

The water runs down his face. Warm water runs into and out of his open mouth while he imagines the way those purple and blue marks dance under him. The way his fingers feel holding your hips still as his cock reaches deeper and deeper inside of you.

This was the worst idea he’s ever had, but he can’t care right now.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson blurb

[goatpaste]

Alrighty, this has been something I'v been putting off for awhile because I really just wanted to save all the money myself but I just dont think its gonna be able to happen anytime soon and I'm tired of putting it off for Daisy's sake

but this is officially the Donation Post for us to start pooling together money to move daisy up from Texas to Pennsylvania. I'll bore you with the details under the cut but in the mean time here is links and info on the ways you can support the move!

[My commissions are Open] [My Etsy is Open]

[My Kofi were i offer PWYW commissions as low at 3$]

[My Toyhouse has designs for sale on it]

[You can Donate here and all the saving made toward this will be going directly into savings]

These are all the ways you can directly support us and help us work toward the goal of getting Daisy into a safe and better environment! I know not everyone is going to be able to chip in but anything helps even reblogs and sharing around! We've been talking about this move for over a year and I want to try and move her by the end of this year at the latest.

For more info on our specific situation and bit more details, please read under the cut

Daisy has been my friend since we were 6 years old, she is like a sister to me! We've been at each others side through thick and thin and I care about her so much.

Daisy's home life has never been the best and her parents are nightmare people who are a blight on the general public but as well as Daisy's home life.

Daisy doesnt have the ability to drive, work or save her own money even when she did work as her mother would take the money she earned constantly, and was ultimately the reason Daisy was unable to keep her job.

So for Daisy's end she has no ability to save and moving funds, it will primarily be on me to round up the money.

We are not 100% sure how much we are going to need at this moment in time but have a rough estiment.

Were hoping to get Daisy's mother on a good mood and have her pay for Daisy's plane ticket. We are going to be unable to move all her stuff and will just have to pack as much as she can into a large suitcase and fly up. So we will not have to pay for the plane, but will have to pay for bedding, and everything else she will need once up here. we have some temporary arrangements Via my bed and couch and potentially picking up a blow up mattress. But my current apartment is extremely small and not much room for two people let alone just me. Not sure how long I will be in this space while Daisy is up here if at all.

I may potentially reach out to my step father and ask him to dip into the savings he has kept for me to get Daisy furniture and necessities. But im avoiding that for as much as i can as im not on the best terms with my dad.

I will start looking for a bigger place for us to live together once we start getting in a comfortable area on savings. As the only money maker currently i will be needing savings to afford a place for us to share that will of course be much more expensive than where i am right now. Daisy will start looking for a job once she is/has moved up here and hopefully we will be able to support ourselves at that point, it will just be the first little bit of time we will need a cushion.

this is one of the areas im not 100% sure how much were going to need but certain in the thousands area knowing rent for a place big enough for two individuals.

after that its just gonna be us figuring it out.

but this is the situation as it stands right now, we are trying to help a trans woman out of her shitty living situation and across the country where her friends who love and care and want to support her are. We dont know exactly how much its going to be, but its going to be a lot and were really just looking for a bit of support!

thank yall so much!

#donation post #moving funds #commissions #furry #anthro #etsy #kofi

[katyswrites]

don't call me 'baby'

PART 8 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Sugardaddy!Steve, SMUT (18+), angst, unprotected p in v, daddy kink, oral sex (f & m receiving), cum play, ddlg dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, swearing, alcohol use, smoking, age gap, no use of y/n

Wordcount: 10.2k

A sugar daddy modern AU, a whirlwind summer romance in Italy, and two people from completely different walks of life, somehow finding each other in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, what will happen when summer ends?

Notes: I know, the Italian/descriptions of this area of Italy are not 100% accurate. Sue me! But seriously, I wasn't too focused on accuracy, so just take it as it is!

PART 8 | drinkin' on the beach (with you all over me)

“So, will you tell me where we’re going yet?” you asked slyly.

“You’ll see when we get there,” he replied, fighting a smile. He extended the hand not carrying your suitcase, which you took as you descended the rest of the steps.

“I just don’t get why you’re not -”

You stopped mid-sentence, realizing what Steve was leading you towards.

“Is that -?”

Your question was answered as he popped the trunk of the red Ferrari, placing your suitcase inside.

“It’s mine. Well, ours, I guess. For the week.”

“You’re - you can’t just rent a car like this -”

“I can,” Steve said, slamming the trunk close. He smiled smugly, then shrugged. “I know a guy.”

You managed to pick your jaw up from where it was hanging and rolled your eyes.

“Of course you do,” you said, making your way to the passenger side. “So -”

“Hop in,” he said, opening the door for you. “You’ll love it, I promise.”

You took his hand and let him help you in, Steve closing the door behind you and coming around until he was in the driver’s seat, right next to you.

“Wow,” you said under your breath.

“What is it?”

“I just - I realized I’ve never actually seen you drive before. Or, been in the front of a car with you, really.”

He chuckled, sitting back in his seat.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything. Ready?”

You nodded, clicking on your seatbelt as he pulled away from the curb.

“So - what did you say to Robin to get her to agree to taking me away all week? She usually loves to go all-out for my birthday, as much as I tell her she doesn’t have to.”

He shrugged. “I’m pretty good at sweet talking.”

You thought about your roommate for a moment, and the idea of her being sweet-talked into anything, and snorted. “Cute, what did you actually do?”

A pause. Then, “I promised I’d pay for your belated birthday party. Whatever she has planned, I said I’d help make it happen.”

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“You don’t understand! Robin loves birthdays! And like, I don’t hate them, but I’ve just never been much of a big celebrator or anything, and she always goes nuts. And now you’re giving her a budget? You’ve created a monster, Harrington.”

He laughed, reaching down to take your hand. He gave it a tight squeeze.

“Well, I’m sorry. But, I’ll do my best to rein her in, yeah?”

“Yeah, sure, good luck with that.”

It’s only several minutes later, after you’ve both laughed it off, that you realized he was still holding your hand as he drove. Had he ever done something like that before? Before you could dwell on it, you pulled your hand away, hoping that reaching for the water bottle in the cupholder made it seem nonchalant.

You cleared your throat. 

“So - can I know where we’re going yet?”

“You certainly can guess, if you want.”

You sighed, throwing your head back against the headrest.

“Okay - well, you said I didn’t need a passport, so we’re not flying anywhere. And, you said to pack bathing suits, so I’m guessing the beach, or pool, maybe. So, staycation? In Italy, somewhere?”

His face remained neutral. “Maybe.”

“You’re impossible.”

He chuckled, taking a moment to glance over at you.

“Just, trust me, yeah?”

After a moment, you sighed, giving up. 

“Yeah, okay.”

As you drove out of the city, you turned the conversation towards his business trip. You asked him about work, how it went, and leaned back and listened. He mostly vented about it, but you paid it no mind - in reality, it was just nice to be with him again. You tried not to think about that part of it too much, though.

The highrises and busy city streets began quieting, giving way to residential townhouses and open roads. The traffic had lessened, the scenery becoming greener, the road narrower.

“So, how long until we get there?” you asked.

“About 4 hours, give or take,” he said. “It’ll be worth the road trip, I promise.”

“I don’t mind a road trip.”

Not with him, you didn’t.

You found yourself glancing over at Steve every now and then - he had only been gone a week, and you had forgotten just how unabashedly handsome he was in-person. As he stared straight ahead at the road, you took in his side profile, and the way his hazel eyes shone in the sunlight, his hands gripped firmly on the wheel. 

Feeling your eyes on him, he spared a glance in your direction. Instead of looking away, you just felt yourself smiling, keeping eye contact.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing - it’s just… you really didn’t have to do… whatever this is. You spoil me, you know.”

His hand found itself on your thigh, giving it a squeeze. 

“It’s my favorite thing to do, baby.”

Baby. He had started calling you that more often now outside of the bedroom. You didn’t protest when he kept that hand there, for most of the drive.

Eventually, you found yourself dozing off, the steady motion of the car and low hum of the radio lulling you to sleep. You only found yourself waking when the car came to a halt, blinking groggily.

In front of you was a pier, boats bobbing in the water as cars lined up. The sea stretched out before you, bright blue in the late morning light.

“What are we -”

“We’re catching a ferry,” Steve said. 

“So, an island vacation?”

He just shrugged, pulling the car up to the dock to load on. You sighed.

“You know, I barely had any idea what to pack. I just threw stuff into a bag.”

“Don’t worry about that - I brought another suitcase for you, bought you some stuff.”

“Of course you did.”

You still had the inner instinct to lecture him, to berate him for spending so much money on you. But, you couldn’t ignore the way he grinned, proud of being able to spoil you. If you asked him to bring you the stars, he’d probably find a way.

The ferry trip was about an hour long, Steve following you to the upper deck to stretch your legs. You leaned on the edge, looking down at the water below you, the wake of the boat making the bright blue water churn into white seafoam. The salt air blew through your hair, Steve’s arm finding its way around your waist. 

Before too long, you found yourselves back in the car and driving off the ferry. You took a moment to assess your surroundings, blinking in the afternoon sun. The port was busy, green hills and rocky mountains stretching out before you in the distance, dotted with colorful buildings. The sea was sparkling, clear as day with an aquamarine hue. The harbor was bustling, boats of all sized docking at the port. People rode their bikes along the pier, the sounds of the water breaking along the coast a consistent din in the background.

“Okay, now can you tell me where we are?”

Steve laughed. 

“Yes - It’s called Ischia Island. It’s kind of become a tourist trap recently, but don’t worry, we’re going to the other side of the island - it’s much quieter.”

“I don’t care about that -”

“I know, but - I guess it’d be nice to have some privacy, you know?”

So you let Steve continue to drive, bypassing the main port and heading up the small dirt road, slowly climbing the mountains. It was beautiful - from up here, the views of the coast were breathtaking. For the first time, you truly realized how much Steve wanted to make this special, pulling out all of the stops for you. In all of your time in Italy, you had never had the time or money to do anything touristy, let alone take an actual vacation. Suddenly, it was nearly overwhelming. You glanced over with Steve, taking him in for a moment. Then, the idea hit you.

“How far are we?”

“Close - probably like 15 minutes. I think you’re going to like where we’re staying.”

“Is this road busy?” you asked quietly.

“Here? No, not really. It’s pretty quiet, I kind of wanted it to be -”

“Okay, good,” you said, cutting him off. “Because you’re going to find a place to pull over.”

He glanced over at you, perplexed.

“Why? Are you feeling alright?”

You nodded, leaning across the console to press your lips to his ear.

“I want to thank you, Harrington. Preferably by sucking your cock.”

You were surprised he didn’t drive the car over the edge of the road and into the ocean.

*******

You and Steve didn’t reach your destination until about 45 minutes later, after you had your way with him. In the end, he was a mess, begging you to put him out of his misery after prolonged teasing from the passenger seat. Afterwards, you were shocked he was even capable of driving again.

Finally, though, you saw it - the place you were presumably staying. Steve pulled the car up a small dirt driveway, to where a beautiful villa was tucked at the top of a hill. Its white stucco exterior was striking against the rolling green mountains, stone steps leading up to it. Steve helped you out of the car, gesturing to the house behind him.

“Is this -”

“It’s all ours, baby,” he said, beaming.

“I - I just assumed we were staying at a hotel or something -”

He nearly scoffed. “A hotel? No way, not for this. It’s just us here, the whole place to ourselves.”

He popped the trunk, pulling out the bags, insisting to take yours, too.

You practically bounded up the steps, not even containing your excitement as Steve unlocked the door and waved you in. 

Inside, it was bright and airy, the white walls stretching up to high, arched ceilings. There was an open kitchen and eating area, the floor a beautiful blue and white mosaic pattern. With the windows open and curtains pulled aside, the villa was bathed in sunlight. You found yourself going towards the back of the house, gasping at what you saw. Before you was a balcony, with a breakfast nook and, most notably, a pool. But, the most stunning part was the view.  The Tyrrhenian Sea stretched before you, sparkling and bluer than the sky, the city barely visible behind the trees. It smelled like salt and citrus, presumably from the trees abundant with fresh fruit. For the first time, you understood what people meant when they said paradise.

You felt Steve coming up behind you, his presence strong and warm. 

“Well - what do you think?”

You paused for a moment, turning around slowly to face him. He looked down at you expectantly, and you reckoned he’d probably be crossing his fingers right now if you couldn’t see them. For some reason, he still thought you were hard to impress.

“You did all this… just for me?”

He nodded.

Before he could even say anything else, you had his face in your hands, kissing him so fiercely that you could barely breathe. He pulled you closer, fingers digging into the small of your back. It was only when you pulled away to catch your breath that you spoke again.

“Where’s the bedroom?”

******

You hadn’t even taken time to explore the rest of the house, tumbling into bed with Steve without a moment’s hesitation. Neither of you took your time, too hasty to touch one another after being separated all week. Steve made quick work of your clothes, pulling you into his lap before sliding into you. You nearly cried at the feeling of him inside you again. Sex with Steve was like a drug, and you were finally able to admit to yourself that you were addicted. It wasn’t long before you were both messes, coming undone in a matter of minutes.

“Fuck,” he whispered, lips pressed to your neck. “So fuckin’ perfect, baby - just like that, oh fuck -”

He was thrusting faster now, practically pounding up into you. You dug your nails into his back, dragging them down as you writhed in his arms, hips meeting his thrusts. Your finger picked up the pace on your clit, and you felt yourself losing control. You bounced in his lap, legs caging him as he pulled you closer. 

“Oh, I - ah! Steve - oh, shit, just like that - you feel so good -”

“Yeah? You like when daddy stuffs you with his cock?” he grunted.

“Mm, yeah - I’m so full, I feel you everywhere -”

“Keep squeezin’ me, baby - shit, you’re really going for it, so wet - are you close?”

You bit your lip and nodded,  moaning as you felt the tension building in your core.

“Yeah, so close - I’m gonna cum -”

“Damn right you are - such a good girl, always cumming on daddy’s cock.”

“Only for you,” you whispered in his ear, pulling him closer, arms wrapping around the nape of his neck. That was the final straw for Steve - he cried out your name, hips stilling as he painted your walls with his cum. You felt the warmth of him fill you, and you sighed. He stayed there, heavily for a moment. 

“Fuck,” he said after a moment. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, and you ran your fingers along his scalp soothingly.

“Wait,” he said, pulling back to look at you. “Did you finish?”

You considered lying - it was nearly instinctual, having done it with other partners in the past. But, there was something about Steve that made it impossible to lie to him.

“No,” you admitted. “But, I came close, really close - you always make me cum, it still was good -”

“Nope, not happening,” he said, brow setting with determination. 

“What are you -”

But he was reaching down, thumb finding your clit where your bodies met, his softening cock still inside you.

“Steve, what are you - oh! Shit, I -”

You threw your head back, feeling yourself re-approaching your peak as he rubbed deep circles around the bundle of nerves, slowly picking up the pace.

“Steve - you’re still inside -”

“I know,” he whispered. “I want you to cum around me, can you do that, baby?”

“Yes,” you breathed, gasping as his free hand found your breast. “I’m going to cum on your cock, because I’m your good girl -”

“And tomorrow,” he said, coating his fingers in the slick mix of both of you to stimulate your clit, “you’re going to cum over and over, until you can’t walk. I need to make up for it, gonna make you forget your own name, baby.”

“Fuck,” you groaned, feeling yourself squeezing around him. “I’m gonna -”

“Let go,” he encouraged. “Do it, for me, baby.”

And you did. You screamed his name, pulsing and convulsing around his cock as he continued to work you through it. He was still working on your clit, gradually slowing down as you let the wave of pleasure wash through you.

After, you both just stayed there, tangled in each other as you struggled to regain your breath. You felt his heart thudding against yours, bathing in the afterglow as he rubbed soothing circles on your back.

“I missed you,” you finally admitted. “I missed this.”

His hand stilled. For a moment, you wondered if you had said the wrong thing, if you had crossed a line. But, then:

“I missed you too,” he whispered, pressing a kiss into your skin.

You felt your face heat, and just pulled him closer to you, deciding not to say anything else, at risk of doing something you couldn’t come back from.

After a while, you found yourselves laying in bed in a comfortable silence. You could hear the crashing waves and cries of seagulls in the distance. You propped yourself up on your elbow, properly looking at the man beside you.

“So - now that we’re here - what’s the plan? For today?”

Steve stared up at the ceiling, thinking.

“Well, we really only have the afternoon now, so - I’ve got stuff for us to do over the next few days, so it’s really up to you. We can go into town, or hit the beach. Or, just hang out here - what do you think, birthday girl?”

You rolled your eyes. 

“It’s not my birthday yet -”

“As far as I’m concerned, this entire week is your birthday, baby.”

You felt your heart flutter, and bit your lip.

“Well, if I get to decide - beach?”

He grinned, reaching across to brush some hair out of your face.

“Sounds perfect, baby.”

******

Steve had presented you with a new bathing suit and beach cover-up, practically demanding to see you in it immediately. And, you rarely found it in yourself to say no to him. When he first saw you wearing it, you were genuinely concerned he was going to immediately ruin it by tearing it off of your body. But, he managed to control himself enough to make it out the door, his hand snaking around your waist as you headed down to the beach.

The closest beach to you, as it turned out, was only a short walk down the road. And, it was a pretty quiet one. Steve explained on the way how it was a lesser-known alcove, only really used by locals and not well-known amongst the tourists. Sure enough, the white sandy beach was relatively sheltered on all sides by the rocky cliffs, making you feel both so in-the-open and hidden.

You sighed as you settled onto the beach towel, soaking in the sun as Steve set up an umbrella, eventually finding his place beside you. The afternoon was relaxed and quiet, Steve allowing you space to read your book and sunbathe. You tried to think about the last time you let yourself relax like this - it was possible that you never had. 

Eventually, the water just looked too inviting, the sun becoming just a bit too oppressively hot, and you found yourself wandering down to the shoreline. You let the water lap over your feet, the waves warmer than you expected. It was only after you had waded out up to your waist that you heard the water breaking behind you, a telltale sign that Steve was joining. Before you could turn to him, his arms were wrapped around your waist, making you jump and squeal.

“Steve!”

He spun you around in the water, making a big splash in your wake.

“Hey, beautiful,” he whispered. It was almost too affectionate, the way he said it, but you decided not to question it.

You just smiled, leaning in until his nose was brushing yours.

“Thank you, for this,” you murmured. “I know I’ve been saying it, but - I don’t think I’ve ever taken time to do anything like this, well… ever.”

His face softened a bit, and he brought his hand up to cup the side of your face.

“You’re welcome. Also, I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

A devilish grin, then, “For this.”

Then, he was pulling you into his arms and under the water with him, causing you to yelp with surprise as you became submerged. When you broke the surface, he was laughing like a little kid, earning a playful smack in the arm from you, followed by an indignant splash. And, for even just a few moments, it was easy to forget about everything, other than how much fun you were having.

Yes - this trip was exactly what you needed.

********

The next morning, you woke up slowly, blinking in the bright sunlight filtering into the bedroom. It took you a moment to remember where you were - then, the sandy-colored walls, the soft linen, and the lingering smell of salt water and sunscreen reminded you.

You rolled over in bed, reaching across to find it disappointingly empty. You groaned, sitting up and rubbing the bleariness from your eyes. After scrounging around under the sheets, you eventually unearthed a t-shirt, the one you had pulled off of Steve last night. Shrugging it on, you padded through the house towards the back balcony, where the sounds of the outdoors filtered through the open door. Surely enough, there he was, his back to you as he set plates on the table. You wish you had a camera to capture it - the vision of Steve, shirtless with his disheveled morning hair, the sea sparkling behind him in the early sunlight. But, before you could appreciate it anymore, he seemingly sensed your presence and turned.

“Look who's finally risen!” he declared. “I was worried I’d have to wake you up before the food got cold!”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Got cold?”

“Yeah - I made a veggie frittata, I hope that’s alright. I got some pastries too, and fruit. The coffee’s almost done.”

“I - you cook?”

He stopped, crossing his arms. 

“What, did you think I couldn’t?”

You shrugged, throwing up your hands in defense.

“No! I just - I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen you cook before.”

You walked towards the table, accepting the chair he pulled out for you as you sank down and settled.

“When did you get all this stuff?” you asked, taking in the spread before you somewhat in awe.

“Oh, um, this morning - I went for a run, and stopped at the market on my way back. Town’s not far.”

You couldn’t even fight how impressed you were, shaking your head in disbelief.

“How long have you been up?”

“A few hours,” he said, shrugging. He cut into the frittata and started loading it onto one of the porcelain plates, passing it to you before sitting down. “I’m usually up pretty early, you know that. I wanted you to sleep in though, glad to know I didn’t wake you.”

“Right. Well, thanks.”

It almost felt like too much, him going to all these lengths for you. Yes, buying you a meal was one thing - he did it all the time. But cooking for you, and with such care… it felt like a different thing entirely. But, you accepted it gratefully, not even realizing just how hungry you were until you started digging in.

You could get used to mornings like this - breakfast on the beach view balcony, fresh coffee and breakfast, Steve’s knee brushing yours under the table. After a while, Steve leaned back and smiled, taking a sip out of his cup of coffee.

“So - are you feeling up for an adventure?” he asked, sounding slightly mischievous.

You raised an eyebrow, taking a bite out of a strawberry.

“What kind of adventure?”

“The kind you need a bathing suit for,” he said. “Preferably a bikini, but that’s really just for my benefit.”

You laughed. “Is that so?”

That was how you found yourself pulling on a bathing suit, pulled out of your bag along with a cover up and sun hat. Steve was already waiting for you when you emerged, a cooler bag slung over his shoulder, holding your beach bag out to you. You were finally starting to learn to relax, not even asking what he was planning - if it kept going the way this trip already had been, you knew he had a good surprise in store.

He took your arm in his, leading you out of the villa and to the car, tearing down the small dirt road until it became a larger, cobblestone one, descending down the hills into the main little town. The day was warm and bright, prompting Steve to lower the roof of the convertible. You let your eyes close, leaning back against the seat to feel the sun and breeze. You barely even noticed when Steve’s hand came to rest on your thigh.

You didn’t really open your eyes until the car slowed to a stop, realizing where you were. It was the pier, with boats of all different sizes and grandeur bobbing in the water. There was a bit of a hustle and bustle, with people loading and unloading, motors starting, dockhands untying boats and sending people off. You looked over at Steve quizzically, only to be met with a smile.

“You ready?”

“Are we -”

“Taking a boat out? Yes, yes we are,” he said, killing the ignition and hopping out of the car. He came around the other side to open the door and let you out before you had a chance to do it yourself. You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes as he took your hand, deciding to indulge him.

He led you to the dock, and you couldn’t help but start eyeing the prospective boats waiting for you. Eventually, you stopped at a small motorboat, docked and ready to go.

“We - you’re driving?”

Steve nodded, throwing the bags onto the boat and hopping on.

“Yes - I’ve got a boating license.”

“Since when?”

“Since my dad made me get one when I was 16.”

Somehow, Steve Harrington remained an enigma - what else didn’t you know about him?

He turned, offering his hand up to you to help you on board.

“Do you trust me?”

You nodded, not even hesitating.

“Yes.”

“Good - then come on, I promise it’ll be fun.”

It was so easy to believe Steve, to trust him - when did that happen?

After passing some cash to the dockhand, the boat was untied and sent out, Steve manning the wheel as he headed out into the harbor. You leaned back in the leather seat behind him, holding onto your hat as the boat picked up speed. The waters gradually became less busy, the expanse of blue before you growing greater as you headed out to the sea.

“Where are we going?” you finally asked, practically yelling over the sound of the engine.

“A surprise,” he said.

“Of course.”

This earned a chuckle from him, followed by a gesture towards the cooler pack.

“By the way - I packed some drinks, if you want them. And food, too, but that’s for later.”

You grinned, unzipping it and pulling out a bottle of rose, still cold and wet with condensation. You poured it into a plastic cup that you found in the bag, smiling endearingly at the thought of Steve doing all of this - shopping, planning, packing, doing everything with you in mind. You sighed, sipping your wine as the boat cut through the waves, the breeze blowing through your hair. Finally, you reached what you presumed was your destination: a smaller island came into view, surrounded by big rocky outcroppings sticking out of the water. You couldn’t even see any other boats docked around it.

“Where are we?” you asked, standing as the boat slowed to a stop. Steve threw the anchor down, with more ease than you expected.

“It’s called Sand City,” he said, propping a leg up on the boat’s edge as he tied the knot. “Well, that’s what locals call it - I’m not sure what it’s actually called. But, barely anyone knows about it - if I had to guess, we’re probably the only ones here.”

You glanced over at the rocky beach - from what you could see, there wasn’t another soul.

“Knowing you, you probably rented out the place,” you joked.

Steve chuckled. “I mean, if I could, I definitely would’ve.”

You laughed, but when he didn’t, you stopped.

“Wait, you’re serious?”

“Completely.”

You came up next to him, glancing over the side of the boat - the water was crystal clear, the current gentle and calm.

“So, how do we get out there?” you asked.

Steve grinned, pulling his shirt up over his head in one movement.

“We swim.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you dove in after him, the water a relaxing relief from the sun. The pair of you made your way to the shore rather quickly, pulling yourselves out of the water and onto the beach. Here, there wasn;t much of the soft white sand that you had seen on the main island. Instead, the coast was rocky, Steve taking your hand as he helped you weave through to spare your bare feet from the brunt of it.

“You know, for a place called ‘Sand City’ - there’s not a lot of sand,” you observed, following Steve up the beach.

“There’s a reason for that,” Steve said, leading you further up the beach. “See, like a hundred years ago, this place was used for sand mining - and it was a major port. But, they drained the resources, and couldn’t develop anything. See?”

He gestured further down the shoreline. Sure enough, in the distance there were larger wooden posts sticking out of the water, worn and dull with time.

“Those used to be the dock, before it collapsed. But, since there’s a steep dropoff after the sandbar, people like to dock their boats and make day trips out here. Like us, for example,” Steve explained.

“How do you know all this?” you asked, tone laced with surprise.

“I did some research,” he said, shrugging. 

“Why?”

“Honestly? I wanted to impress you,” he admitted somewhat sheepishly.

You laughed, louder than you meant to.

“What?” he asked indignantly, stopping in his tracks.

“Nothing! It’s just kind of cute that you’re trying to impress me, I guess.”

“Shut up,” he muttered.

You stayed a few steps behind him, smiling to yourself. This was maybe the most relaxed you had ever seen Steve - he seemed younger, almost boyish. You wondered if this is what he was like, years before you met him. When he was your age, was he less hardened? Did he have less walls around him? You had to assume he did.

At one point, he leaned down to pick up a pebble, skipping it across the water.

“Nice, that skipped like, five times,” you remarked.

“You try,” he said, extending a flat pebble to you.

“I’m not any good at this,” you confessed.

“I’ll help you, here -”

He placed the stone gently in your palm, his hand engulfing yours.

“Just follow through like this, and kind of flick your wrist.”

You did your best to ignore how your skin tingled at his touch, following through on his guidance a few times before finally letting go. The stone skimmed the water’s surface, skipping once, before plopping in.

You threw your hands up in the air in celebration.

“Okay, I know that wasn’t much, but - better than anything I’ve done before!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around Steve’s neck.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, and you pulled away quickly. Before he could say anything, you gestured for him to keep leading the way.

******

The rest of the afternoon was a bit of a blur. Steve led you up the island to a thatch of trees, where you came across the old ruins of a submarine. You spent a while investigating it, grabbing a fresh peach hanging off of the trees. You and Steve shared it, eventually returning to the water and swimming out to one of the rocks past the sandbar. You let yourself lay out and sunbathe, Steve by your side. Eventually, though, the one peach you had split didn’t seem to tide you over, your stomach grumbling. You groaned.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got a picnic on the boat,” Steve assured. “Want to head back?”

You agreed, welcoming the cool water as you dove back in, clambering back up onto the motorboat. Steve produced a true spread from the cooler, of crackers, cheeses, and grapes, topped off with a bottle of white wine to split. It was so idyllic, floating in the middle of the ocean, with the fresh charcuterie that Steve had so carefully packed for you. After you were full and satiated, you couldn’t help it - you had to start touching Steve. You found it hard to keep your hands off of him, tracing his constellation of moles on his back beneath the sun, both of you laying across a towel. You began to trace letters and words, asking him to guess - Steve’s name, your own, smiley faces and stars, anything you could think of. Steve, as it turned out, was shit when it came to guessing.

You found yourself feeling just a bit mischievous, deciding to press your lips between his shoulder blades instead.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, voice a bit rougher than it had been.

“What’s the chance of another boat passing us here?” you asked.

“Uh - minimal. Really slim, we’re pretty isolated,” he answered quickly.

“Good,” you whispered. “Because I wanna ride you, if you’ll let me.”

And he did, scrambling onto his back, gripping onto your hips as you straddled him. Your bathing suits were shed in a matter of moments, and you wasted no time in sinking onto him. The boat rocked precariously, but it was part of the thrill - Steve came undone in a matter of minutes, cumming deep inside of you. You followed shortly after, convulsing around him with your head thrown back, underneath the bright afternoon sun.

*******

The next few days passed in a blissful blur - Steve took you all around the island. One day, he rented a Vespa, having you wrap your arms around his waist and hold on tightly as he drove you around to the other side, where a music and art festival was happening. He followed you around, dancing with you and buying you whatever you wanted from the vendors, insisting that you picked out whatever you wanted. Used books, fresh pastries, a sunhat, handmade mosaics, seashell earrings - whatever caught your interest.

One of the items you picked up was a pack of disposable waterproof cameras, which you immediately made quick use of. You began snapping photos of the town, the ocean views, and most of all, Steve. You caught candids of Steve walking down the street, running his hands through his hair, or his side profile, when he wasn’t paying attention. You got him to pose on occasion too, insisting on taking pictures at each new site you visited. Soon, Steve took one of the cameras, playing your own game and sneaking photos of you throughout the trip.

“Pose for me, baby, for the memories,” he insisted, pulling back to capture you every chance he got.

You and Steve made use of the villa, too. On the third day, you woke up to the sound of rain pattering on the roof. Steve bemoaned the inclement weather, but you just snuggled further under the covers.

“What are we going to do, then?” Steve grumbled.

“We can just stay here… in bed… all day,” you replied, pressing a kiss to his neck. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmm hm - actually, today’s a perfect day to practice your Italian,” you added, smirking.

“What do you -”

“Here’s the deal,” you said, sinking a bit further below the covers. “I’m going to quiz you on what I’ve taught you so far - if you get it right, I keep sucking you off. You get it wrong, though… I stop, until the next one you get right. What do you say?”

You spent that morning edging Steve, who quickly became a whimpering mess at your mercy. His language retention, it turned out, wasn’t great. Every time he screwed up an Italian word or phrase, you pulled your lips off his cock, looking up at him with disappointment.

When he finally did cum, he begged to do it all over your tits, which you obliged. That, of course, led to a bath in the clawfoot tub, where Steve happily joined you, insisting on reciprocating. The rainy day, as it turned out, wasn’t a waste at all.

Another day, he took you out on a small ferry cruise to go snorkeling. You both dove through the shallows, exploring coral reefs and swimming through schools of fish. You were fairly certain that you’d never get over the color of the sea here - the bright, aquamarine water was stunning, and you were certain that if it was flatter underneath, you’d be able to see through the ocean for miles. You snapped a few photos underwater, hoping that they’d reflect what it looked like in-person. You doubted it, though. At one point, when you both broke the surface and climbed back onto the rowboat you had taken out, Steve was holding a lump of sand in his hand.

“What is that?”

He smiled, shaking it off under the water to reveal what looked like a gray rock. You furrowed your brow, confusion only growing and Steve produced a pocket knife. He cut into it along the edge - it was an oyster.

“In the mood for shellfish, Harrington?”

He just shook his head, prying the shell open. He squinted, then smiled.

“Well, looks like I’ve got some pretty good luck today!”

Before you could ask what he meant, he reached into the shell and pulled out -

“Is that a pearl?” you asked, eyes widening.

He nodded enthusiastically, holding it out to you.

“For you.”

You shook your head.

“No, Steve - do you know how rare that is? Just to find a natural pearl? I shouldn’t -”

“I was hoping to find one, just for you,” he assured. “Seriously - I want you to have it.”

You took it hesitantly, turning the small white stone in your hand. It was so small, perfectly round, with a few grains of sand still clinging to it. You shook your head incredulously.

“I - thank you,” you whispered. You fished your wallet out of your beach bag, tucking the pearl safely inside.

******

The evenings were filled with sunsets and wine, Steve insisting on bringing you to the best restaurants that the island had to offer. When you returned to the villa, you would take a dip in the pool - bathing suits optional. That’s why, by the time your actual birthday came around, it wasn’t a surprise that you were physically exhausted.

The morning of your birthday came on a Saturday, the last full day of your trip. You had attempted to stay up until midnight on Friday to properly ring it in, but you were so exhausted from the sun and copious amounts of wine consumed during the day that you were asleep before 11.

That night, you dreamed. Often, your dreams weren’t very vivid. If you remembered them at all when you woke up, there wasn’t really anything concrete. And, you supposed, this wasn’t really any different. You felt warm, only really seeing flashes of golden light, dancing behind your eyelids like stars. Your skin tingled, and you were just relaxed. You sighed in contentment, suddenly feeling your brow furrow at the realization that you could feel the mattress you were lying on, the soft sheets fisted in your fingers.

You weren’t sleeping anymore, not completely. You weren’t exactly sure when you had stopped, crossing the line between dreaming and consciousness. But suddenly, you were acutely aware of the air on your skin, the quickening of your breath, and, most notably, the feeling of warm lips pressed to your skin.

“Mm - Steve?” you grumbled, voice still groggy from sleep.

“G’morning, birthday girl,” he murmured from below the sheets, pressing a kiss to your navel.

“What’re you -”

“I wanted to make today extra special,” he whispered. “Starting right now.”

He continued to pepper kisses across your abdomen, traveling further down, down, down -

“Fuck,” you gasped as his breath ghosted over your bare cunt. “Steve -”

“Shhh, baby,” he whispered. “Today’s all about you - just relax, okay?”

Anything else that you wanted to say died on your tongue, your breath hitching as soon as his mouth made contact with your core. He licked a stripe up your slit, his tongue settling to swirl around your clit.

“Steve! Oh, shit - just like that. Oh my god -”

You felt your back arch as your hips bucked up to meet his mouth. His fingers were digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, spread wide for him as he devoured you.

Soon, one of his hands wandered from your thigh, gathering your slick as he circled your entrance.

You moaned, eyes squeezed shut as you threw your head back.

“Please, Steve,” you whined. He paused for a moment.

“Please what?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. He started sucking, and you already shivered at the thought of him leaving a mark there, a reminder for later.

“Please - your fingers,” you begged.

“What about them?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“Inside me - please - fuck me with your fingers,” you exclaimed.

“If you insist, darling.”

That was your only warning. He plunged two fingers into your sopping entrance, returning his tongue to your clit. You practically screamed, writhing in the sheets as he loved on you in the best way he knew how.

He kissed and licked at your cunt like he was worshiping it. He grinned against your skin at the sound of your whines when he added a third finger, pumping in and out of you at an unrelenting pace.

You found your own hands wandering, looking to grab onto something, anything. Between his ministrations, you heard Steve murmur, “Your tits, baby.”

“What?”

“Touch your tits, sweetheart, you know you want to.”

You didn’t even question it, obeying as your hands found their way to your breasts. You cupped and palmed them, moaning at the added stimulation as Steve continued to eat you out.

“I’m close,” you breathed, feeling your face flush, your heart thudding in your chest. There was pressure building in your core, ready to snap at any moment. You continued feeling your tits, toying with your nipples and squeezing at the soft flesh. 

Your orgasm felt like a dam breaking. You screamed Steve’s name as the pleasure washed over you, intense and white-hot like a tsunami. He worked you through your high, continuing to lap and lick at you, gradually slowing down as your whole body shook. By the time he removed his fingers from you, you were a mess. You felt boneless, certain you’d sink all the way through the mattress if you weren’t careful.

Your breathing was deep and labored, not even capable of forming a coherent thought as Steve pressed soft kisses to your inner thigh. Just as he had started, he kissed his way back up your body - your stomach, your breasts, sternum, collarbone, neck - and, finally, your lips. You still faintly tasted yourself on him, and sighed into his mouth.

After several moments, you finally spoke.

“Jesus Christ, Steve.”

“So, that was good?” he asked.

You turned your cheek down to your pillow, bringing you face-to-face with the man lying next to you.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I - I think that was the hardest I’ve ever cum in my life,” you admitted.

Steve practically puffed up with pride, fighting a smile.

“Is that so?”

You reached across the bed, running your fingers through his hair.

“Yeah, really. Best birthday ever.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s barely started yet!”

“Still - that would’ve made it just perfect, no need to do anything else.”

He laughed, throwing his head back against the pillow.

“Well, that’s definitely not all I have planned. We’ve got a whole day ahead of us.”

You sighed, shaking your head.

“Of course we do. Well, if that’s the case, I’m going to take a shower.”

You rolled out of bed and padded towards the bathroom, not even bothering with the fact that you were stark nude. You felt Steve’s eyes practically burning a hole through you, prompting you to cast a glance over your shoulder.

“I might need help, you know,” you said suggestively.

He didn’t need to be told twice.

********

Most of the day passed without a hitch. In fact, you would call it perfect. Almost, at least. You had breakfast on the balcony, the morning relatively slow and relaxed. Then, Steve took you to the sea, renting another boat until you reached what you learned to be Aragonese Castle. The ruins sat on a volcanic rock formation, accessible via a footbridge going across the water. On the island, you explored the castle, marveling at the sight from the top. You stood atop the structure, something older than you could even comprehend, staring out across the sparkling sea. Steve took your camera, snapping a few photos of you before you noticed.

“Come on, birthday girl, pose for me,” he begged with his go-to line, smiling as you grinned and threw your hands up in the air for the camera. 

After, you took the boat around the coast to another smaller island, making your way up to the little village there. Steve made good on his word, and as you wandered through the market, did his best to name all the items in Italian. Every time he got something right, you kissed him. For everything he got wrong, he had to buy you something from that vendor. In the end, it was working out much better for you, your bag filling more and more as you walked through.

You both walked along the beach, finding yourselves carrying your shoes as you let the water wash over your feet on the shoreline. The afternoon waned to the early evening, the sun moving from beating on your backs to golden, slowly sinking towards the horizon. You had returned to the main island, Steve insisting on returning home briefly to change out of beach clothes. You followed his lead, trusting whatever he had planned. As you were throwing on some makeup, you barely noticed him come into the bathroom behind you, too focused on yourself in the mirror.

“So,” he started, leaning against the doorframe. “I know we haven’t exactly had an occasion for something like this yet, but I had this made for you - I was kind of hoping you’d wear it tonight.”

He held up a clothing hanger, shrouded in a garment bag. You smiled at him through the mirror, bounding over excitedly to unzip and look at what was inside.

“I - wow.”

“Put it on for me?” he asked. “It’s part of your birthday present.”

You obliged, kicking him out of the room, insisting that you wanted him to be surprised. You slipped on the dress easily, your breath catching in your throat as soon as you saw yourself in the mirror.

It was a vibrant, deep red, made of some kind of shimmering silk. Somehow, it both flowed over you and hugged you in all the right places - more than anything else Steve had gotten made for you, this had to have been done with you in mind. Somehow, you were certain it was the best you had ever looked. Valentina had outdone herself.

You opened the door slowly, mainly for dramatic effect. Steve was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in a suit jacket over his button-down, the first few buttons notably undone. At the sight of you, he sat up quickly. His eyes widened, looking you up and down as he scrambled to his feet.

“Well, what do you think?” you asked.

It took Steve a moment to say anything, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he searched for words. Then, softly:

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

You felt your face heat, the blood rushing to your head creating a dull roar in your ears.

“You’re a liar,” you insisted.

“With you? Never.”

“Well, just one thing,” you said, coming closer to him before turning around. “I need help zipping it up.”

You felt Steve’s hands at the small of your back, pulling the zipper up slowly. His fingers brushed your exposed skin on the way up. And, when he finally reached the top, he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“I have something else for you,” he whispered in your ear. Before you could ask, you felt something cold around your neck, a weight resting against your sternum. Your hand came up to touch it - a necklace. A ruby pendant to match the dress, the chain lined delicately with diamonds.

“Steve-” you said, turning to face him.

“Don’t say anything,” he said, beating you to what you were about to say.

“But - you’ve already put together this whole trip… I can’t -”

“You only turn 21 once,” he said. “It’s a big deal, you know.”

“Maybe in the States - not really so much here -”

“I guess that’s why I wanted to make it special, just for you,” he whispered. “Will you let me?”

His eyes were so soft, begging you to just say yes, and your chest suddenly felt warm.

“Thank you,” you finally said. “Really.”

Then, he was kissing you. It wasn’t hungry, or heated, or demanding. It was soft and slow. When he pulled away, hand cupping your jaw, it felt like you should say something else - but what? Before you could decide what it should be, he was holding out an arm to you. You hooked yours through it, letting him lead the way.

Sunset hadn’t happened yet, but it was probably soon - the sky was bathed in the deep golden of the sun, the day aging and giving way to the evening soon enough. You took the Ferrari, the top down as Steve drove down the hill and into town.

The place Steve had reserved for dinner was tucked into the mountain, made of old stone and terraced into the Earth. You were on the rooftop, your table set out so that you had a view of the city below, and the sea beyond. The sky was turning shades of orange and pink, promising a stunning sunset.

“Steve,” you started once you were settled into your chair, “this place - it’s stunning.”

You couldn’t even hide your awe, realizing for maybe the hundredth time that week just how lucky you were. 

“Just wait until sunset,” he said. “This is the most in-demand restaurant on the island.”

“And you got a reservation?” you asked, perusing the wine menu.

“I pulled some strings.”

“Naturally.”

You brought your feet to rest on top of his under the table. 

After ordering a bottle of wine, Steve reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his tobacco and rolling papers.

“Hope you don’t mind,” he said. 

“As long as you share,” you replied, grinning as he started rolling a second cigarette. 

As you lit yours up and took a deep inhale, you allowed a moment to fully take in the sight of Steve.

The last week had changed him. You thought about him, and how he had said that this was the first time he had taken a vacation from work. His skin was tanned, his hair a bit lighter from the time in the sun. It had grown a bit longer, too, since you’d first met him. 

As he breathed out smoke, donning sunglasses and bathed in the golden light of dusk, you felt your chest ache. For better or for worse, Steve Harrington has changed your life. 

After enjoying a decadent meal of seafood, flatbreads, and pasta, all shared with Steve, it was properly dark out. The only light came from the strong lights hanging around the patio, and the candlelight on the table. You were a bit tipsy from the shared bottle of wine, feeling warm and hazy. It was during dessert, as you were sipping a cappuccino and tasting your tiramisu, that Steve cleared his throat.

“So, I have one more present for you,” he announced, straightening up in his chair.

“Steve - no.”

“But -”

“You’ve already gotten me the dress, the necklace, this entire trip. And, well… everything else.”

The arrangement, which you two barely spoke of anymore. At least, not directly. He just sighed, pulling an envelope out of his pocket and sliding it across the table to you.

“It’s the last thing, I promise - please?”

You stared at him for a moment before finally conceding. Grabbing the envelope, you tore it open, pulling out the piece of paper inside. You stared at it for a moment, squinting in the dim candlelight. It was a map - a map of the night sky. You vaguely recognized it, thanks to the astronomy class you had to take during your first year of school.

“It’s - the sky?”

“Well, it’s a certificate, for proof.”

“Proof of what?”

He pointed to the text at the top. You read it once. Twice. Five times. You felt your eyes widen, your mouth hanging open.

“Did you - did you name a star after me?”

Steve nodded slowly, assessing your reaction. 

“Yes. Well, specifically - it’s kind of stupid, but… it’s a star that’s over Rome in late May, right around when we met. I don’t know, I just thought - it was just an idea.”

When your eyes met his again, he was asking a silent question - expectant, nervous, his gaze asking, do you like it?

It was then that it hit you. It was like a train, knocking the breath out of you. And, without thinking, you said it:

“I’m in love with you.”

As soon as it tumbled out, you swore your heart stopped. Everything was spinning, and you were certain you were going to be sick. But, after an agonizing moment, Steve just raised an eyebrow.

“So, am I supposed to know what that one means?”

“I - what?”

“Are you quizzing me again?”

A wave of relief washed over you - you had said it in Italian. What Steve had heard was sono innamorato di te. You let out a deep breath, laughing nervously.

“Oh - yes. Yeah!”

“Okay - what does it mean?”

“Just, um - it means I love it. The gift, I mean. It… it was really thoughtful.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, visibly relaxing in his chair.

“Oh, good. I’m glad. I wasn’t sure what you’d think, to be honest.”

You stared down at the paper, avoiding his eyes. You did your best to just focus on the page, hoping he couldn’t tell that your hands were shaking.

“No - it’s great. Thank you, really.” 

You forced a smile, meeting his eyes again. Then, you stood up suddenly, your chair sliding out behind you. Concern flickered across his face.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Me? Yeah, I just - I need to use the ladies’ room,” you mumbled. You took a step towards him, placing a quick kiss on his cheek before heading downstairs to the lower part of the restaurant.

As soon as you were locked in the bathroom, you braced yourself on the sink. You did your best to steady your breathing, gripping to porcelain for dear life. That was a close call - too close. You immediately started chastising yourself - you were an idiot, a fool. Your one job was to not fall for him. It was the most important part of the agreement. Wasn’t the whole point of this to avoid complications, and heartbreak? 

You took a deep breath, assessing the facts:

You loved Steve Harrington. 

You weren’t supposed to love Steve Harrington. 

Now, every time you were with him, you’d be lying to his face

In a month, he’d be out of your life.

You felt nauseous, the room starting to spin. This couldn’t be happening. But, it was. You stared at yourself in the mirror - your eyes were glassy, threatening to break into full-on tears at any moment. No, you couldn’t do that - you weren’t going to ruin this perfect day, perfect week. This was so you, to ruin everything for yourself at the last minute. You gathered yourself, fighting the urge to cry. You were going to make this work - you had to. Steve never had to know how you were feeling, how much you had fucked this whole thing up. So, you straightened yourself up, doing your best to regain composure, and headed back upstairs to the table.

Steve visibly relaxed when he saw you approaching.

“Everything okay?” he asked as you slid into your chair.

“Oh - yeah. All good, it’s just - I’m stuffed!” you declared, laughing half-heartedly. “Seriously, this was delicious, but - I can’t eat or drink anything else.”

Steve nodded. “Oh, no problem - I can get the check.”

“Yeah, okay.”

You had to seem normal - to make yourself feel normal. Nothing had to change between you two, as far as you were concerned.

So, you let Steve take you home, your hand on his leg making him drive the car borderline recklessly. You both stumbled through the door of the villa, shedding one another of your clothes like your lives depended on it.

Maybe you were reading too much into it, or maybe something truly had shifted. More likely, the reality was somewhere in the middle. But, the sex wasn’t desperate, or urgent. You took your time with one another, exploring each other’s bodies like it was the last time you’d ever do so. Steve held you close, kissing every inch of you, his lips whispering prayers and sweet nothings into your skin.

You gave it all back to him, thanking him for everything he’s done for you with filthy words whispered in his ear, telling him how good he was making you feel.

He sucked bruises into your skin, and you left scratches down his back. When you came, it was together, the pleasure peaking and flowing through both of you in unison. After, he laid on top of you, your fingers running gently through his hair as you stared at the ceiling. You just let yourself bathe in the afterglow, hanging on to Steve like he’d disappear if you didn’t.

It was later, after your head had settled onto his chest with his arms wrapped around you, that he finally spoke.

“So - did you have a good birthday?”

“Mm,” you hummed blissfully. His heartbeat thudded steadily against your ear, grounding you.

“Best birthday I ever had,” you added.

“Really?”

“Yes,” you affirmed. “You - you made me feel special. I don’t think anyone’s bothered to do that before, not like this.”

A pause.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Steve said solemnly. “You deserve better.”

You shook your head, burying your face further into his chest.

“You’ve made up for that,” you assured him. “Trust me.”

His hand rubbed soothing circles on your back.

“Good,” he said. “I mean, we’re doing round two next weekend, with Robin’s not-surprise party.”

You groaned.

“I forgot about that.”

“It’s only because she loves you, you know.”

You swore your heart skipped a beat at the word. You immediately felt stupid for even letting that happen, as if it was voluntary.

“Yeah, she does,” you conceded. 

“I don’t want this trip to end,” Steve admitted. His voice was lower, words slurring a bit. You realized that his breathing had slowed down considerably - he was drifting.

“Me neither,” you admitted. “Let’s just stay forever.”

It sounded like a joke, earning a low chuckle from him. It didn’t feel like one, though.

“Whatever you want,” he murmured.

After a few moments, Steve went completely silent. His heartbeat was slower, and you sighed, rolling over to stare at the ceiling.

Without him to distract you, your mind started racing. The anxiety was gone - no, the feeling now was pure and utter dread. But, the most horrible part was when you glanced over at the man beside you - all you felt was butterflies, churning in your stomach like some sweet sickness.

You stared at Steve for a while - the rise and fall of his chest, his disheveled hair, the way the moonlight cast over his form, highlighting his silhouette.

“Hey, Steve? You awake?” you whispered through the darkness. No response.

You brought yourself up onto your elbow, leaning in just a bit closer. You’d never be able to tell him to his face, but this was the closest you’d get - maybe you just needed to get it out of your system. At least, that was what you told yourself.

“I love you, Steve,” you whispered. No response.

You promptly turned over under the covers, burying your face in the pillow. And, finally, the tears came. Fast and hot, they leaked onto the pillow, marking it like acid as you did your best to sob silently.

You were fucked. Completely and utterly ruined. For the first time in ages, you cried yourself to sleep. Before you finally drifted off, one question was on your mind:

What were you going to do when Steve left for good?

author's note: hi everyone! Thanks for your patience for this update! Work has been kicking my ass, and it's been harder to make time to write. Before anyone says anything, no, I don't speak Italian, nor have I been to Italy. I did my best, but some details were fabricated for the story, so if it's not accurate - oh well! Thanks to everyone for all the kind messages, and to my bestie Em for the endless inspiration. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated!

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #sugardaddy!steve harrington #modern steve harrington #sugar daddy au #dcmb fic #don't call me baby #steve harrington/fem!reader #steve harrington/reader #steve x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington/you

[makethatelevenrings]

Breakfast for Three // J. Todd x f!reader

Requested? Yes!

Warnings: reader has a kid, swearing, talks of poverty (if u haven’t been able to figure out, I am a leftist and I am tucking my lil handkerchief into my collar and preparing to eat billionaires)

Summary: Being a single parent is hard. Being a single parent in Gotham feels impossible sometimes. Two people change things for the better. 

Listen, raising a child on your own was a test on its own. But being a single parent in Gotham? You had to be absolutely out of your mind.

But you loved your kid. You wouldn’t go back and change your decision. Every morning, you woke up to the giggles and shrieks of your four year old climbing all over you. Lucy was always up before your alarm and while you needed every minute of sleep, you would miss these moments whenever she became too cool to hang out with her mother. So you just bundled her wriggling body up into your arms and peppered her head with kisses as she laughed and wrapped her little octopus limbs around you.

Breakfast had moved from a coffee and a granola bar as you rushed out the door to work to Bluey pancakes for Lucy and even more coffee for you before you rushed out the door to get her to preschool and you to work. Every day felt like it was flying by too quickly.

Her birthday was quickly approaching and that’s how you found yourself out on the fire escape of your apartment with the baby monitor clutched between your hands and sobs escaping you despite your best efforts to stifle your cries.

You couldn’t afford any of the popular toys or games that kids were obsessed with. Hell, you could barely afford rent this month. Living in Gotham wasn’t as bad as other places in terms of rent but raising a kid was expensive and you were struggling to make ends meet thanks to work being slow. God, she was going to be so disappointed. Maybe you could start eating only one meal a day? That would save some money on groceries…

“Are you okay?”

The voice came from the shadows and the subsequent heart attack you received practically launched you into the air. The person cursed and then stepped out of the shadows. Okay, less scary but still pretty fucking terrifying. Red Hood stared down at you, or at least, you thought he was looking at you. The helmet made it difficult to figure out what direction he was facing.

“I said, are you okay?” he repeated in a gruff, no-nonsense voice. You nodded quickly and swiped away your tears with the back of your hand.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Don’t you have skulls to bash in or something?”

A huff of laughter escaped the vigilante’s helmet and you cocked your head to the side. He could laugh? He was capable of humor? Surprises were all around tonight.

“Already did that. And then I heard someone sounding like they just watched Marley and Me three times in a row and figured I should come check.” He eased himself into a crouch next to you and you admired how large and imposing he was yet he didn’t seem terrifying when he was next to you. You weren’t his target so there was no reason to fear him.

“Gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he asked.

“It’s stupid,” you muttered. You turned your attention back to the baby monitor to see Lucy fast asleep in your bed. The one bedroom apartment you rented didn’t have space for another bed so the two of you shared one. Luckily, she was a deep sleeper so she never stirred when you crawled in a few hours after her bedtime and got up early in the morning to get ready for the day.

“Nothing that makes you cry is stupid,” Red Hood retorted. “Hit me with it.”

“My kid’s birthday is coming up and I don’t have the funds to pay for anything. I can barely keep our heating on. She’s going to hate her birthday and I’ll have ruined it forever. I’m already working sixty hours a week, but I can’t ask Mrs. Hayes to watch her longer. Fuck.” You scrubbed a hand down your face and bemoaned your rotten fucking luck. Fuck your shitbag ex. Fuck the system that prevented single parents from succeeding. Fuck it all.

Rustling beside you made you look up to find Red Hood rummaging through his pockets. He let out a triumphant hum and then outstretched his hand. A stack of bills rested in his gloved palm and your eyes widened at the offering.

“Absolutely not,” you blurted out. “I’m not taking blood money from you. Who knows where that’s come from? And what if you show up in five years demanding the money back with some huge fucking interest rate?”

He chuffed out another laugh. “Christ, your mind is an interesting place. It’s legit, I promise. And it’s not a loan. It’s a gift. Take it. I’ve got enough cash.”

You watched him warily as you reached out and grasped the money. Your lips moved as you counted out the values silently and inhaled sharply once you got to the end. Three thousand dollars. That would pay rent for two months, leaving your paycheck to cushion you.

“Holy shit. Thank you. Thank you so much,” you gasped. But when you looked up, there was no sight of Red Hood. He had simply disappeared into the shadows once again. Only the rough paper of cash in your hands made you realize that it wasn’t a dream.

You spent the rest of the night going over your finances and figuring out where you could use the cash and how much you could spend on Lucy. With enough to bolster you for a bit, you decided to take her by a bakery on her way to pre-school. With her dinosaur backpack firmly settled on her back, Lucy bounded towards the bakery with you hot on her heels. Where the hell did she get all this energy?

“Woah,” a man exclaimed as Lucy tripped on a raised edge of the sidewalk. He caught her before she went sprawling onto the pavement, saving you from a torrent of tears and skinned knees.

“Gotta be careful there, kiddo,” he said as he righted her. You caught up to her finally and kneeled down to check her for injuries. Unscathed, thanks to the stranger. You raised your head to meet his eyes and thank him and found yourself captured by searing teal eyes.

“Thank you,” you blurted out. “I should really get her one of those backpack leashes.”

His full lips curled up into a grin and your heart stuttered at the sight of it. Small scars littered his tan skin, but it only added to the handsome rogue look he had going for him.

“I get it. The cinnamon rolls at this place are fu-” His eyes darted towards the squirming child in your hands. “Freaking amazing. I practically run here every morning to get one.”

Lucy gasped. “You like cinnamon rolls?”

The man shrugged. “Well, yeah, who doesn’t?”

“Sad people,” she replied wisely. You burst into laughter at the solemnity of her words and leaned down to kiss her cheek.

“I love you, kid,” you announced.

“Love you too, mommy. Can we go now?”

You stood up to your full height and the man did the same, but he was much taller than you. He offered his hand and you shook it.

“I’m Jason. How about I buy you two breakfast?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do it. If anything, I owe you.”

His smile grew and you marveled at the slight dimple in his chin. “Yeah, but this way I can be a gentleman before I ask you out.”

There was no way this exceedingly handsome, Adonis-like man was asking you on a date. No fucking way. You had toothpaste on your shirt and a four year old currently clinging to your leg. No man had even looked at you since your ex knocked you up and left.

But he was kind and genuine and there was some kind of soft emotion in his eyes that made you want to ask him how the world had hurt him. And Lucy seemed to like him from just their first meeting.

“Okay. Breakfast sounds nice.”

If only you knew how a simple breakfast would change your life forever.

tag list: @mcrmarvelloki​ @gone-batty-fics​ @someoneimsure​ @perpetual-fangirl900​ @visagebrise​ @cursedandromedablack​ @alexxavicry​ @the-wayward-daughter​ @raging-trash-of-mind​ @kat-nee​ @khaylin27​ @igotanidea​ @princessbl0ss0m​

#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #jason todd fluff

[r4ikkonen]

please can you do a fernando alonso imagine where she’s 22 years old and in college and he’s her sugardaddy, because he doesn’t have time for an actual relationship ? and he had a rule of no falling in love but then he realizes he’s in love with her when he’s bringing her shopping and he confesses it to her later that day after they have sex and she loves him back too

No strings attached | Fernando Alonso x Reader

———————————————————————

Ever since you got into your dream college Yale life has been a little bit challenging.You had to work a part time job at starbucks to be able to pay the rent and your scholarship.Yale is overall very expensive and your grades are not that bad either.All your problems disappeared over the summer break.Your friend Zara and you went to the Silverstone Grand Prix.Zara was sweet enough to get both of you the paddock passes and you enjoyed your time there very much.Zara was a big fan of motorsport and you would always come with her to watch Formula 1 or NASCAR.Even though you would struggle with understanding the terms you always found a way to enjoy every race.Zara introduced you to a lot of drivers and there was one that caught your eye.His name was Fernando and he drove for Aston Martin.

Zara often teased you about him and that drove you crazy.After the Silverstone race you and Nando got into contact and you would often talk to each other.He came up with an idea to meet at the restaurant.You gladly accepted and spent 3 hours getting ready just to see him.Your hair was shiny and your satin black dress was hugging your body.When you arrived you saw a man drinking wine graciously while waiting for you.You took a seat and his eyes went straight to look at yours.

“Oh hi y/n didn’t see you there” Fernando said giving me a slight smirk.The way he talked was very flirtatious and I tried not to fall in any off his gestures.He asked me about my college and about my life.I felt like he really cared about it and he would listen to me like I was a song.

After we finished off our desserts it was time to go home.He gave me a ride home in his new Aston Martin car that cost more than my life probably.When we arrived he stopped the car and looked at me right into my eyes.

“Remember Cariño, no strings attached” He told me while grabbing my thigh placing a warm kiss on my cheek.His dark brown eyes met mine and I felt goosebumps rising up on my arms.I waved back to him and entered my apartment.We were now using each other for each others needs, like money and attention..

Few weeks went by and I was living my life to the fullest.I truly had everything, from Dior to Chanel to all of those designers.I was now a sugar baby and Fernando made sure he spoiled me go bits.We were talking nonstop and he called me any second he gets.I really felt like he was my boyfriend.He always listened to me and he always helped me.We would often see each other when we could.He was busy with racing and scoring points for me while I studied my ass off to become a Doctor.Whenever I’d miss him I would always remember his words.”No strings attached”.They are still haunting me and I tried shaking off the feeling that I have a slight crush on him.

I went shopping to get some new clothes because I’ll be flying to Oxford to see him.I was very excited and I picked some gorgeous outfits that he of course paid for.

He greeted me with a big smile on his face pulling me into a big hug.As I wrapped my arms around his neck I could feel his after shave.I gave him a quick kiss on the lips and he blushed like crazy.We had time of our lives he showed me Oxford and we tried some great food there too.Living with him for these 4 days were amazing.

It was the last day and I already felt cranky.I didn’t want to leave him, I didn’t want to go back to my sad apartment.I wanted to stay with him forever.When I got out of the bed I saw him preparing pancakes.The smell was so strong and I couldn’t help but giggle while looking at his bare back.His muscles were so defined.His Samurai tattoo was exposed.I bit my lips and sat on the counter trying to catch his attention.

“Good morning Mi Amor” He said placing a warm kiss on my cheek while holding the pan carefully.

“Good morning love” I replied starring at him and admiring every move of his.

He slid a plate across the counter.

“Eat.” He demanded waiting for me to taste one of his pancakes.

“Mmm this is delicious, maybe I should kidnap you and make you make me pancakes mhm?” I teased trying not to sound too clingy.

“I wouldn’t mind that at all” He winked flirtatiously at my joke.

We spent the whole day to ourselves chilling on his big sofa.I was sitting on top of him resting and scrolling through tiktok.He grabbed my phone and threw it onto the coffee table. “Hey!” I yelled hopping that he didn’t break my phone.He didn’t say anything he lifted me up and undressed me exposing my bare breasts.I whined to his actions and he kept placing wet kisses on my neck while whispering something in Spanish.I wrapped my legs around his waist and he pulled out his member.I moaned at his actions as he pressed his warm fingers inside of me. “Fuck Nando please..” I groaned begging him to fuck me some more. “Be patient cariño” He whispered in my ear making me want him even more.We spent that whole morning making love..

After he made sure I was comfortable.We were still laying on his sofa naked.. I used his torso as a Pillow and his fingers were playing with my hair.We were just laying there in silence

“Cariño” He said with a frightened look on his face.Holding me by my waist.

“Yes?l” I turned off my phone locking an eye contact with him.

“Cariño there’s something you need to know” His words weren’t so clear and I was scared for the worst.I’ve thought to myself, what if he breaks up with me?What if he finds me too needy?I couldn’t shake away my fear.

“Uh look, I’ve been thinking about this for some time know and honestly, I think im in love with you, I know I know no strings attached but.. I feel very happy with you and I want to take you with me everywhere I go.”

My eyes went wide to his beautiful confession and I couldn’t help but to give him a big kiss.I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled away from the kiss “I love you”.

I’ve never seen such a smile on his face before he stared at me deeply and I could sense how happy he felt.He grabbed me closer and said

“Cmon let’s go get ready there’s one more place I need to take you too”

#formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 smut #formula one #f1 #ferrari #red bull f1 #aston martin #aston martin f1 #aston martin formula one #formel 1 #fernando alonso #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso x you #f1 fanfic

[dumplingsfordays]

patching you up

blade x injured!gn!reader

genre - fluff

summary - blade patches you up after you got injured while fighting mara.

cw!: mentions of blood + injury, soft-ish!blade, ooc blade?, mention of blade's past life which idfk how it works lmao I should be paying attention to the storyline asjdnb, swearing, mutual pining

note - god damn. soft!blade is living in my head rent-free fr, can't get enough of him <33 I'm not usually an edgy-emo-boy fan but ig blade's just built different 💪💪

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

With each painful cough, more and more thin splatters of blood painted your mouth crimson.

It hurt. A lot. You didn't expect it to hurt nearly as bad as it did when you charged in to fight the Mara that was attacking some people that were making their way through Cloudford, but the spear that their captain had used to stab through your side was probably coated in some sort of poison, because with every sluggish step you took, you felt your body break little by little. Eventually, you collapsed onto the cold ground - your torso was numb and soon your arms and legs would be as well.

Well, at least you were going to die somewhere pretty. The sunset glimmered through the leaves of thin trees growing from large pots, which were scattered across the various bridges of the district. Starskiffs drifted lazily across the sky like regal ships on the high seas and the last thing you heard before you closed your eyes for a while was the sound of crickets and footsteps fading in.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

"Finally fucking awake."

A harsh voice came from your side as you opened your extremely tired eyes, which were met with dim but warm lighting and a dark wooden ceiling.

"Can't believe you got into this mess," the voice continued as you felt something tightening around your waist. "Didn't think that you'd be so stupid."

His face flashed in your hazy mind and you tried to sit up. "...Blade, I-"

"Don't move. You'll make it worse."

Hands. Ice-cold, gruff, but gentle hands pushed you back into your previous position by your shoulders, and you felt the tightening feeling again shortly after.

"What are you doing?" you whispered, then coughed again. Your throat was so dry - it felt like you haven't drank in decades, and with each cough you swore that your lungs were going to fly out of your mouth at the sheer force.

"Fixing you, obviously."

You raised your neck to try and catch a glimpse of your wounds but saw only the top of Blade's head, his raven hair tied back in a low ponytail. He was bent over your side, and just as you lowered your head back to the pillow a sharp bolt of pain shot through you, making you hiss and wince.

"That hurt!"

"It'll pass," he replied almost too casually. "Deal with it."

An uncomfortable pause ensued, during which you finally figured out that he was bandaging your torso up. You'd never expected anyone to find you back there, much less a Stellaron Hunter that you'd only interacted with five or six times, but thank the Aeons that at least someone did. But you did think it was strange that he was doing this for you, because from all your two-or-three-word conversations, you were sure that he wasn't the type to help an almost complete stranger. In fact, you'd think that he would be the one to cause these injuries in the first place.

While you were staring up at the ceiling in deep thought, Blade was lowkey kind-of admiring your skin. You weren't going to look down at him again anyway, it seems that you'd learned your lesson, but that just allowed him to eye your softness in more detail. This was his chance - he'd been admiring you from afar ever since you first met, and he wasn't about to let this opportunity to see what you looked like close-up pass.

Before he knew what he was doing, Blade's fingers reached out to lightly press onto skin that was near your wound, at which you hissed and leaned away from his touch.

"You sure that you're actually healing me?" you asked.

"Yes. I know what I'm doing, trust me."

He continued to press curiously but gently, making sure not to hurt you on purpose. Your skin was fascinating to him - it was soft, warm, while his was unforgivingly cold; yours had a fascinating shade of life about it and his didn't. This contrast was what made his eyes widen a little everytime he made physical contact with you, and he found small differences like these to amount to vast ones overall. Maybe this is what always made him think that you came from a different world entirely.

Blade then noticed that your hand was trembling by your side - the painkillers must be wearing off. He stood up from the chair beside the bed on which you were resting and reached for a couple pills and a glass of water on a nearby counter, moving them to the bedside table. His hands felt your back as he sat you up to administer the medicine.

You now saw where you were - from what you could tell, it was a small house or apartment somewhere. Dark wood covered the walls, ceiling, and floor, and tapestries and thriving plants littered the environment. You didn't know that he had a green thumb, but now that you did, you felt safer somehow - what if this cold, distant man was more human than you'd originally thought him to be?

His lithe, cold fingers brought you back to reality as they rested under your jaw, pulling it open gently, and your eyes focused on his admittedly quite handsome face again. Crimson eyes, the color of a blood moon, stared intensely at yours in avid concentration before travelling back to his other hand, which was now lifting a glass of sparkling golden liquid to your lips. There was a certain reverence of sorts glimmering in his expression, and this was accompanied by the fact that he was treating you like he would a glass flower. Your lips finally met the rim of the glass and when you finally tasted the elixir, you sighed.

It was cool and sweet, a refreshing sensation that battled the humidity of the room and the pain in your side. You drank the entire glass with ease and after Blade set it down on the bedside table, he wiped away some stray droplets of the shining liquid with a rough thumb.

That was it - Blade had become an entirely person just now. You could see it in his eyes and feel it as he breathed: this was not the same person who happened to be walking by a person on their deathbed and had enough pity in their secluded heart to heal them. He treated you like an old friend or a partner, perhaps, by taking you in.

"You'll experience drowsiness soon," he mentioned, "don't feel like you can't sleep. I won't leave you."

You laughed lazily in return, already feeling the effects of the painkillers. "So you can murder me in my sleep?"

"...I can leave-"

"No, no, I'm just kidding."

You sigh and relax into the pillows beneath you as Blade lowers you onto your back again. His gaze lingers on yours for maybe a second too long but he pulls away, preferring to sit down in a chair by the bedside and stare out at the scenery surrounding the house.

Once your eyes close and your breaths become quiet, he gives it a couple seconds to make sure you're asleep before softly starting to hum. It's an old tune from his past life, one which he used to smith to, and as midnight moonlight begins to stream in through the window, it veils your calm face in a hazy, shimmery glow that rivals even the smoothest of satins. He reaches a hand towards the apple of your cheek, cradling it in his palm as he sighs, a faint smile dancing on his lips.

"You're gonna kill me someday."

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai #fluff #blade #hsr blade #blade hsr #blade x reader #star rail blade #blade x y/n #blade fluff #blade x you #hes so babygirl for some reason like???

[ticklystuff]

Energy to Burn

a/n: inspired by gaming's teapot dialogue (pls ignore thoma standing there menacingly i was too lazy to remove him for the pic..)

for some context, a lot of ppl that celebrate lunar new year will clean their homes prior to the new year! but ya i was supposed to upload this before lantern rite and that did not happen so just pretend i did

wc: ~1.8k

summary: aether has the very relatable problem of someone else doing his chores, oh the horror

---

Hallway clean.

Counters sheen.

Kitchen kempt.

House pristine.

Aether's eyes scanned over the entirety of his living space, taking in the now well-organized room. Sloppy would be misleading in terms of how to describe himself and Aether did enjoy cleaning on the occasion, yet a certain floating companion could easily offset his progress. Compound that with constant settled dust and dirt while being away and keeping the teapot spotless becomes a massive ordeal. He did his best, he really did, but things were never exactly how Aether liked them.

Yet as much as his own reflection in the countertops was pleasing to the eye, Aether couldn't help but release a lowly sigh, recalling a conversation from the day prior. 

"Now, I know you won't let me pay any rent while I'm here, 'cause we're friends and all, but I will at least insist on making myself useful. So, if you catch me cleaning or gardening at any point — don't try and stop me."

It didn't take a genius to deduce the "culprit" behind the state of the teapot and Aether soon found himself running through the hallways of the house, crying out to his guest, always taking a second to marvel at the cleanliness of each room, before bolting to a different area of the building.

"Gaming! Gaming!!"

A brief run-through of the kitchen area rewarded Aether with a clue for his efforts: a propped open backdoor to the garden area. Lo and behold, there Gaming was, kneeling down to feed the numerous cats Aether liked to bring home to the teapot, seemingly oblivious to the blond's nearby presence. The dancer's current attire heavily clashed with the colorful flora he stood amongst, adorning a simple grey t-shirt that gave a slight peek of his midriff, baggy shorts that fell past his knees, and his usual shoes improperly slipped on. As Aether approached the other, he couldn't help but notice the little tune Gaming hummed, bobbing his head along. Lacking the usual accessories, Gaming's disheveled hair flew about in the breeze without a care.

"Gaming?" Aether slowly approached the other, prompting him to practically jump in response.

"Oh- woah! Morning, boss!" Gaming giggled, catching himself in the moment. "Look at these little guys! They love the treats I brought them! Oh, and speaking of which, did you see the breakfast I made? It's nothing special, but I prepared some congee for you. I also found some pumpkins laying around and cut them up, if you'd like to add them to your dish!"

"Ah, I haven't eaten yet," Aether nodded, watching the cats devour their food, "but I just wanted to thank you for cleaning up the house."

"Oh, it's no problem-"

"But also, you really don't need to go through all this effort," Aether quickly interjected. "You're a guest here and you should really be enjoying your time, not doing my chores."

"Uh-uh, no can do, boss!" Gaming gave another grin, not a beat missed in his reply. "I've already told you that's not how it's going to fly. Plus, who says I'm not having a good time doing your chores?"

"Gaming.."

"Heh, don't sweat it," he tilted his head, before huffing in reassurance. "My po po always taught me that I should always show gratitude to my host for having me as a guest. Besides, it's almost Lantern Rite and it's customary to clean your home before then. I know this isn't my own place, but it's where I'm staying for now, so might as well!"

"Well, not to this extent." He couldn't help but sigh, feeling conflicted, yet at the same time, Gaming didn't seem to mind in the slightest.

"Don't worry about it," Gaming clicked amusedly with his tongue. "Just think of it as a productive way for me to burn all my energy for the day!"

"I suppose." Didn't really help him feel less bad about the whole thing, though.

"Alrighty then!" Gaming placed his hands on his hips in thought. "What's next on the agenda- Ah! H-Hehehey!" The sudden outburst took Aether by surprise, taking a moment to realize why. Now out of food, the cats Gaming had been generously feeding were brushing along the bare lower parts of his legs, some even pawing at his shins, meowing as if crying out for more food.

"N-No, get awahahay!" the brunet continued to giggle, hopping between each leg to avoid the encircling horde of kittens clamoring for their next snack. "H-Here!" Gaming quickly reached into his pocket, throwing out a surplus of treats that was enough to divert the attention of his new following.

And the whole time, Aether had been observing.. watching.. stewing the little idea that the teapot cats have so graciously handed to his brain on a silver platter. If Gaming had extra energy burn, he could certainly help with that.

"Whew," Gaming sighed in relief once the cats had dispersed. "Do you not feed them here? Why are they so hun- WahH! Hey! Boss, w-what're you-?! N-Nohoho! Nahahat you too!"

In his distracted state, it wasn't particularly difficult for Aether to bowl the other over, easily pinning Gaming to the grassy garden of the teapot. Once ready, Aether set his plan into motion, digging into the sides that were oh-so conveniently exposed thanks to Gaming's choice of current attire.

"You mentioned having a little extra energy to spare," Aether teased, pinching at the exposed sides in succession to create an erratic giggly response. "Thought that maybe I could help with that."

"Nahahat like thihihis!" Gaming shook his head with a smile, showing off the widest dimples adorning his cheeks. "I-I wahahas juhuhust trying to heheEHEHELP!"

Aether couldn't help but grin along, having just hit a particularly good spot that elicited the cutest squeals. He continued to make use of the newfound discovery, circling the area around Gaming's navel with the tips of his finger nails in repeated motions to draw out the contagious laughter. "Y'know this is your fault, right? If you hadn't started feeding the cats, I would have never found out you're so ticklish."

"Th-That dohohohesn't mahahake any sehehense!" Gaming kicked his legs and patted away at the hands that lightly clawed all over his midsection, but it was for naught, as Aether had no intent on stopping any time soon. "Ehehehehahaha! StahahAHAhahap!"

"I could," Aether drew out with his tongue, making sure to really dig into the vulnerable waist with incessant pokes, feeling Gaming's body lurch and his legs kick to escape the way Aether effectively straddled him, "if you promise to relax during the rest of your stay."

"NEHEHEVEHEHER!"

Aether shrugged his shoulders, perfectly fine with Gaming's stubbornness, if that's what suited him. His laughter was the best part, Aether soon realized; there was something softly warm to it, akin to nibbling into a slice of freshly baked bread. No matter the flavor of laughter, whether it be the sharp yelps from squeezing his thighs to the squeals Gaming would make whenever his navel was targeted, or maybe the bouncy giggles from tasing his sides, the lush vibrant undertones were never absent, satiating Aether's ears in the most fulfilling way possible. He was so content with the current situation that the reason the two were there nearly slipped his mind, until the sight of Gaming's tomato cheeks caught Aether by surprise.

"Hehe, oops," Aether giggled, giving his hands and Gaming a pause. "Well, have we burned enough energy for today?"

"Nuh-uh," Gaming finally shook his head. Breathless as he may be, there was still the faintest glimmer of vigor behind his smile. "I can do this all day."

"Hmph, me too." His hands poised once again, prompting Gaming's limbs to tense in response, yet Aether found himself stopping midair. If Gaming didn't break from everything tried so far, then it would only make sense to switch up his target, but where to? So far, nothing had worked, the boy seemingly a boundless well of laughter and energy, but surely there'd be something..

"What's wrong?" Gaming spoke up, his voice not having fully recovered yet. "Given up yet?"

"Heh, no," Aether lightly tweaked his hips, causing his arms to flail, before his arms landed uselessly on the grass next to.. a discarded shoe?? The blond blinked twice, taking a moment to piece together that one of Gaming's slippers must've flung off during all the kicking he was doing, which meant..

Aether quickly slid downwards, ensnaring the bare foot in an armlock before Gaming could make a move, creating what seemed to be panicked shaking from behind. "H-Hey, wait a minute," Gaming's voice could be heard running a mile a minute, as his free leg pressed against the grass in a last attempt to escape. "Okay, okay this is mean! No, no, no, you don't have to- NohohOHOHO! W-WahahahAIT!"

The effect was almost instant, as Aether scribbled up and down the sensitive sole, eliciting crackled laughter from its owner. He took a second to take a peek behind him, giggling at the scene of Gaming uselessly covering his face with his hands as muffled helpless laughter poured through. There was the occasional kick to his backside from the other spasming leg, but Aether made sure to reward those with a few rougher scrapes to his foot. "Surrender yet?"

"WahAHAHAHA!"

"I didn't hear a yes," Aether snickered, drowned out by Gaming's wailing, feeling the trapped leg buck in his grasp. His fingers ran up the length of the sole, earning himself squeal whenever he reached the base of Gaming's toes, before sliding back down to his heel.

"Okay! Okahahahay! Stahahap! I gihiHIHIVE!"

Just for good measure, Aether delivered a few more pressurized pokes to the middle of his foot, listening as Gaming slapped his hands on the grass in defeat amongst the pleading. When he eventually released his leg, Aether was surprised to see the limb fall limp instead of being pulled back to safety, though he supposed this was a good sign that Gaming's energy was finally spent.

"Urgh, why," the brunet groaned, exhausted without a doubt. "This is what I get for being a good person."

"No, it's what you get for being stubborn," Aether chided with a shake of his head, before offering his hand to help the other on his legs. Once Gaming stood up, Aether couldn't help but ruffle the disheveled mess of brown hair in an attempt at brushing away the pieces of grass caught in the strands.

"Mmm," Gaming shook his head, before running his fingers through his hair a couple of times. "Maybe you won today, but there's always tomorrow's chores. You can't totally stop me."

Aether rolled his eyes in response. "Is that so?" he said, fingers wiggling towards Gaming's sides.

"Okay, okay!" Gaming already began giggling again, jumping back to safety. "I'll learn to chill."

"Promise?"

Gaming sighed, almost as if he had something else to say, only to shake his head. "Fine, promise."

#gaming #aether #genshin impact #tickling

[3rdsleeper]

r/s fics rec list!

(simplified by highly specific tropes)

remus does not want sirius paying his rent and sirius is having a normal one

inflations, invitations and flirtations by mblematic

summary: The Li-Lo at Lupin's. In which plenty of people crash on Remus' air mattress after Hogwarts, and Sirius isn't jealous at all. complete - 9k

practical oddities by lurikko

summary: Regulus needs a place to stay, Remus needs to get over Sirius. It’s August 1979 and things are getting out of hands. complete - 47k (ok this one technically they do live together, but its not necessarily remus' first choice iykyk please read it)

how remus got his groove back by RealityShowJunkie

summary: Remus Lupin becomes king of the cockroaches, Fabian Prewett writes a book, Gilderoy Lockhart is a catfish, and Sirius Black realizes he's a fucking idiot. complete - 42k

the son and heir of nothing in particular by aeridionis

summary: Remus is nineteen and tired, now. And he knows that if he and Sirius were ever going to become anything—if Sirius loved Remus the way Remus loves, and will probably always love, him—it already would’ve happened. complete - 23k

frog and toad aren't friends anymore by swordfishtrombones

summary: “Some people just aren’t good flatmates. I wasn’t trying to say I liked Adrian and Mary better than you, or whatever you’re thinking.” Sirius runs a hand through his hair and squints at the streetlight, twisting his mouth like Remus is truly hopeless. “It hurt,” says Sirius, “my feelings.” complete - 10k

an episode of skam (in the sense that remus is avoidant dismissive /j /j)

the lord of desperate longing by reyghost

summary: Sirius has a lot of feelings, Remus has his own issues too, and James is a very good best friend complete - 13k

and only felt good while moving by aeridionis

summary: The summer before university, Sirius falls in love and throws a punch and then he makes a friend. complete - 17k

SHAME by wiltedtddaisy (taotu)

summary: Sirius has some figuring-things-out to do. He’s not sure if Remus helps or makes things worse. complete - 82k

angle of doubt by mblematic

summary: The Map had been going missing. Or—not missing, exactly. Sirius always knew where it was; Remus had been spiriting it away. Which, it should be said, was fine. Really. complete - 9k

a bird at your door by moongnome

summary: Of pub quizzes, old films, Chinese takeaways, broken arms, and impassioned discussions of literature: Remus is confusing, and Sirius is just trying to figure him out. complete - 31k

if you're the bassist, and i'm the lead singer, then who’s flying this plane?

the cadence of part-time poets by motswolo

summary: After losing his mother at age eleven, Remus has spent the better part of the last four years bouncing from school to school or else running around London and pretending as though he wasn't the kind of well-bred boy his father brought him up to be. Now, with his chances all run out, Remus is sent to Hawkings Independent School as a last-ditch effort to clean up his act. There he meets the very people who will set up the rest of his life, and is forced to confront the pieces of himself he'd long thought had been lost. complete - 979k

dress up in you by MsKingBean89

summary: Sirius attends a charity rock gig organised by his best friend's girlfriend, and the tall, quiet bassist catches his eye... complete - 88k (ok sirius is not in a band in this one but please just go with it)

sirius black & the six by BellaBabe

summary: Remus shrugged. “Not much for the spotlight.” “Right,” Sirius drawled. “I bet you’re also not much for the rock ‘n roll perks.” Remus tensed, sparing Sirius a scathing glance. “I’m sober now.” Sirius quirked a brow in disbelief. complete - 79k

saturday nights and sunday mornings by SoupyGeorge

summary: A story about music and family, the price of fame and finding love somewhere completely unexpected. (its an arctic monkeys au) complete - 121k

sirius black learns the meaning of true love. remus lupin does too but in a much more put together and chill way

a series of sketches done in black ink by musntgetmy

summary: Sirius had always imagined the aftermath of falling in love would mean lightness, and an escape from all the horrors of his childhood. But the past never leaves, and even love can't stop bad memories from resurfacing. complete - 57k

dissonance by renaissance

summary: Remus searches for solace in all the likely places, but somehow he keeps coming back to Sirius Black. Featuring sad acoustic indie, spearmint gum, and irresponsible usage of social media. complete - 4k

the time when you were mine by renaissance

summary: the walk from Grimmauld Place to Parliament Hill is just under an hour, but it's easier going at four in the morning complete - 9k

as red as hearts and autumn by Rosie_Rues

summary: it's the autumn of sixth year, theres a flu epidemic at Hogwarts, and the Blacks want their heir back. complete - 43k

#fic recs #do people still make these? wtv #wolfstar fic rec #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #hp fic rec #marauders

[lvrdrafts]

Crumbs of Cinnamon, Mended Hearts

Summary: You are in the hospital after an attempted suicide but you feel less alone than ever

Pairing: Bucky x f!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of suicide

A/N: Imma make a part 4 cus I wanna make Bucky suffer

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

You were at an all-time low, you couldn’t imagine a life without Bucky and it made you miserable.  You started to have fewer customers since the negative attitude in the bakery was not one that made people want to come back.  You couldn’t go back to your family, they thought the bakery was a bad idea in the first place and you could already imagine the shame on their face.  You were all alone with no friends, family, and work.

You didn’t have enough money to pay for rent for the bakery or your home and now you were forced to sell your dream store.  You felt as if your whole world was crumbling from one man.

Bucky had noticed your bakery had now been for sale and he was seeing you in the apartment less and less.  He was starting to worry about you but every night Diana helped him forget about those worries.  So the worry became more of a task put on hold.

You didn’t want to bear the pain anymore so you decided to end it.  You had went to the bridge at the park at midnight.  You didn’t want to be saved or seen.

You felt the whole world slow down, the cold breeze hitting your shoulder. As you jumped you felt your life flashed before you. The instant your body was completely submerged, you froze. The panic talking a complete hold of you.  You realized you didn’t want to die but it was too late.  As your eyes were beginning to close but you saw someone ,a man with wings, an angel, dive into the water.  Then it all went black and you feel as if your body has given up.

At the hospital Sam was pacing around, worried if he was not quick enough to save you.  That’s when Bucky came in asking everyone where you were.

“I’m gone for two weeks and I’m flying back home to see my best friend committing suicide.  How the fuck does that happen” Sam yells at Bucky trying to hold back his anger as much as possible.

“I fucked up.  I fucked up so bad and I pushed her away and I acted like a dick and I-“ Bucky starts ranting on but Sam ignores him.  Sam had finally gotten on good terms with Bucky but it all seemed to crumble. 

As Sam was about to comment, the Doctor came in and said you are able to get visits.  Sam rushes in to see you.

“y/n/n what the fuck where you thinking. You scared the hell out of me" Sam admitted, his voice cracking with emotion.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she replied, "I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't mean to put anyone in danger. I just... I felt overwhelmed. I don't even know how I'm alive, it's like an angel rescued me. I don't know if it was real or just my mind playing tricks on me." you chuckle laughing at that foolish thought.

Sam looked at you with a gentle smile, hiding the truth behind his eyes. "That sounds like quite an experience. Sometimes, our minds can create extraordinary things in moments of distress. But what matters is that you're here, safe and sound."

Sam cleared his throat, looking at you with a mix of relief and affection. "Y/n, I can't tell you how happy I am that you're alive and getting better. I was so scared when I found out what happened, and I couldn't bear the thought of losing you."

Sam's eyes glistened with emotion, and he squeezed your hand gently. "You're a strong person, y/n, and you've been through so much. But I want you to know that you don't have to face anything alone. I have a friend who has a friend who is willing to pay for your bakery and I can help around the bakery." Sam says putting his hand on your shoulder as you look in his eyes thinking how lucky you were to have him "You don't have to do this alone."

Sam's grip on your hand tightened, and he looked into your eyes with such intensity that it took your breath away. "Y/n, I can't bear the thought of losing you," he confessed, his voice trembling with emotion. "When I found out you got hurt I realized how much you mean to me, how much I care about you."

"I was so worried, and I couldn't stop thinking about all the things I wanted to tell you," Sam continued, his vulnerability shining through. "If something had happened to you, and I never got the chance to say it, I would regret it for the rest of my life. So, here it is: I love you, y/n, with all my heart. And I promise to always be here for you, no matter what."

"I... I feel the same way, Sam," you replied, your voice filled with emotion. "You've been there for me through everything, and I can't thank you enough for that. You mean so much to me."

Sam smiled, relief was evident in his eyes. "I'm so glad you feel the same way, Y/N. I want to be here for you"

Before the two of you could say more, Sam's phone suddenly rang, interrupting the moment. He gave you an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, I need to take this call. I'll be right back."

As Sam stepped out to take the call, you were left alone in the room with your thoughts. That's when the door opened, and Bucky entered quietly. His expression was one of remorse, and he seemed to hesitate before speaking.

"Y/N, I... I'm sorry," Bucky said, his voice filled with genuine regret. "I should have been there for you, and I should have realized what you were going through. I didn't mean to push you away, and I'm so sorry for not being the friend you needed."

You looked at Bucky, feeling a mix of emotions. Part of you wanted to hear his apology and accept it, but another part of you couldn't forget the pain of his rejection. You remained silent, not knowing what to say.

"I know I messed up, and I don't expect you to forgive me," Bucky continued, his voice filled with sadness. "But I just wanted you to know that I truly am sorry."

Before you could respond, Sam returned to the room, and you could sense the tension between him and Bucky. Sam looked at Bucky for a moment, then at you, his expression softening.

As Sam noticed the lingering tension in the room, he gently squeezed your hand and looked towards the door. "Hey, I think Y/N might need some alone time right now," he suggested, giving Bucky an understanding look.

Bucky glanced at you, his expression conflicted, but he nodded in agreement. "You're right," he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'll give her some space."

As Bucky turned to leave, you felt a mix of emotions, unsure of what to say or do. Before you could say anything, Sam leaned closer, cupping your face gently with his hand, and pressed a soft kiss on your lips.

Bucky paused for a moment, his hand on the doorknob, and then he turned back to look at you one last time. His expression was a mix of sadness and frustration, and without saying a word, he slammed the door shut behind him.

The hours passed, and Sam stayed by your side, offering quiet companionship and support. Eventually, the fatigue of the day caught up with you, and your eyes grew heavy.

"I think it's time for you to rest," Sam said softly, seeing the exhaustion in your eyes. "I'll be right here if you need anything."

You nodded, feeling grateful for his presence. "Thank you, Sam. You've been amazing," you murmured, already feeling yourself drift off to sleep.

Sam smiled tenderly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "Sleep well, Y/N," he whispered, his voice a soothing lullaby. "I'll be here when you wake up."

Taglist

@marygoddessofmischief @666yourmomdotcom @openup-yourmind @almosttoopizza @maddieislost @kentokaze @floralwslokicjand10 @vicmc624 @sunset90 @cjand10 @matchat3a @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @blueraspberryreader @that1nerd-20 @chemtrails-club @marvel-fandom23 @mewmeoww @niyah834 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @christinesdemoness1958 @matchat3a @kentokaze @mayusenpai666 @smplymrvl @chemtrails-club @emerald-writer @zeysartzone

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader angst #bucky x reader #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x reader angst

[pettypiastri]

playing house

arber xhekaj x fem reader

wc: 2.6k

warnings: swearing, minor injury/tending to injury, reader is disappointed in themselves, financial insecurity, hurt/comfort

a/n: injuries are not accurate to the specific fight mentioned, idiot as a term of endearment :) feedback is always appreciated, my inbox is a safe space and anons are on!

You’ve been playing house with Arber for the past few weeks now. After Marty gave Arber the disappointed look for being tardy to practice once (literally, just once), he used it as the perfect excuse for you to half move in with him. He’d slyly placed a pink toothbrush next to his black one and bought duplicates of your favorite products. He later admitted– with a scratch of his neck and blushing cheeks– when you asked him in a mini panic why he had the Laneige lip mask on his bedside table, that he’d snooped around your apartment and snapped pics of your drawers when he was over.

“It’s not a big deal baby,” he’d cooed, bundling you up tightly in his arms. “Think of it like a test run since your lease is ending soon. If you like being here you can just move in then!” You’d held your protest on the matter back for once in your life when you cast your eyes around and saw the room riddled with your presence: hair ties on his bedside table, your shirts cuddled up neatly next to his in the closet, extra firm pillows stacked on one side of the bed, even your bra, discarded hastily, that you really did need to pick up. The idea did make logical sense.

However, it still gave you pause. You knew Arber would insist on paying for the rent in full. You’ve always hated him spending anything on you for fear that if things ever went sour, it might be something you’d feel guilty about. Arber just didn’t get it. He should, coming from a blue collar background, but at the first whiff of being able to provide for himself and the people he loves without worry, he did just that. He takes pride in doing that. Though he is not very long removed from the lifestyle that you still find yourself in, your hesitations ring foreign to him sometimes. Your insistence on buying things for the apartment and yourself, saving for months and still having to scrounge to fly out for the odd away game, and skipping drinks at the bar to keep your tab down, have all been points of contention in your relationship. Arber just wants to provide for you, keep you from worrying about the aforementioned things, but maintaining financial independence is something you’ve emphasized, potentially too many times, as being important to you. 

Still, Arber is unrelenting. Sneaking his credit card over the counter while tempting you to look at the cute dog across the street, food for two (well, three with how he eats) appearing in his fridge, the odd designer piece being placed in one of your drawers, be it at your place or his… He always insisted, with a damning kiss to your protesting lips, that you’d pay him back in other ways.

And so tonight, you guess, is one of those ways. Arber had dummied Zach Kassian in the first. You watched with held breath as he rag dolled the older man to the ice and marched himself right to the box, arms pumping the air with testosterone riddled adrenaline. While in the moment, you always watch his fights through split fingers, his time in the sin bin and any replays you might sneakily watch before he gets home, ignite a different set of feelings. Arber had found out about your little secret after his first preseason fight; you’d had three cups of tea the next day and took a half day at work. Unfortunately, you think you’ve Pavlov’d the idiot into fighting more. Much to the dismay of your Arber’s medicine cabinet. While you’re resolute on not giving in tonight, you saw his split hand leaking blood onto the penalty box floor and know it will need more tending to when he gets home. 

Home. To your shared apartment. The one you have a set of keys to that is on a ridiculously high floor of a beautiful building in downtown Montreal. A sigh escapes your lips as you forcibly push down the guilt creeping up your throat like heartburn. 

You busy yourself with menial tasks until Arber gets back: empty and reload the dishwasher, put a load of towels in the wash, shower and do your skincare, write a grocery list for the week… Even the chores remind you of your grievance. The realization of how much Arber’s little plan has caused codependence to permeate your lifestyle releases a huff from your chest. 

Fear has driven your active prevention of this type of lifestyle well thus far. But clearly not well enough as you take in the sheer amount Arber has spent on you, as exemplified by the apartment, and how interconnected your daily lives are. Your frustration mounts at being incapable of upholding multiple things so morally important to you. Arber is not to blame. Not for loving you fiercely and wanting your life to be comfortable. You just wish you’d been more perceptive of the changes and flimsiness of your backbone. 

With your annoyance peaking and all the timing of a dumbass idiot, Arber waltzes through the door. He radiates cockiness as he takes in your form standing mere feet from the front door.

“Waiting for me were ya sweetheart?”

You can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes; your childish annoyance at how much you love your boyfriend and love living in his stupid fucking apartment with him, taking over. You turn on your heel and begin a pouty stomp up the stairs. Curse him for being so pretty and confident and stupid and and– just absolutely everything you love to hate right now. 

“Baby that was my best fight yet and you’re gonna make me work for it?” His voice drifts up the stairs after you but your pace is unrelenting. And it’s the fact that if you weren’t currently in the middle of an unjustified rageful spiral, you’d have already jumped him (and he knows it) that has you retaliating,

“Jesus Arber! Maybe you should stop assuming that doing your job entitles you to sex!” 

Yet down by the doorway, Arber, the self proclaimed kind and gentle guy, accustomed to the sharpness of your hangry tongue or the unpredictability of your insecurities, gives pause rather than rising to your jab. He’s still for a moment. After a heartbeat, the arc of his confused brow accompanies him toeing off his dress shoes and his dissipating cockiness. He pauses before following you up the stairs, unsure if he should take his tie off or leave it on for you to loosen like always. He sets his keys in the bowl on the entryway table, something you’d brought over the other day. He notices a pink gel pen list hanging on the fridge, pinned by a magnet from your favorite coffee shop. 

With assured steps, Arber makes his way upstairs, following the warm white glow toward your en suite bathroom. He peers cautiously around the doorway. Your eyes, filled with an annoyance similar to that of a rain dampened cat, meet his. 

“Well come on then. I saw the cut on your hand.” You mutter, emotionless, eyes darting back toward where you’re rifling through bandaids and antiseptic. 

“Still gonna play nurse even when you’re pissed with me?” Arber’s question lifts at the end, forced upward reactionarily by a squeeze of his heart. He knows then that you’re not really upset with him; he’d have had the door slammed in his face promptly after a pillow and blanket were tossed in his direction if you were. He takes a cautious step toward you, arms swirling around your torso and head dropping to the perfectly shaped crevice in your neck. 

The last remaining shreds of petty protest against a crime Arber himself hasn’t even committed, have you writhing gently in his grasp. 

“Arber–”

“Shhh,” he hushes softly, “ ‘M not tryna get with you. Put those claws away will ya?”

Your head rolls back against his ducked shoulder. You refuse to meet his eyes as the last of your anger bleeds away into tepid frustration; your love for being in his strong arms at any time grows to outweigh your desire to maintain this cold front and shrug him off. The stillness of your frame urges Arber to press an unassuming kiss against your soft skin.. and another… and maybe one more for good luck.

“What’s going on baby? Something happen?” The roughness of his quiet voice causes your pulse to hum. This feels like home, you think, which fuels a surge of fresh frustration. 

“I– just take your shirt off would you? I’m tired and wanna get this over with so I can go to bed.” You surge forward to break from his grasp. Spinning on your heel, you cross your arms indignantly to accompany the pointed look you give him. You watch Arber pick his words carefully. 

“You always do it for me…” 

It’s obvious then that he’s not nervous or frustrated or treading carefully with you. He’s being his normal teddy bear self in hopes that his vulnerability will encourage yours. Your permafrost layer melts at the realization. Now shy under his honest gaze, your eyes fall to his dress shirt and tie. You’d picked this tie for him before he left. Arber always claimed he was color half-blind. Really he just wanted to try and kiss you while your focused face was so close to his, your tongue peeking out in concentration. Nimble hands reach to unthread the knot he haphazardly retied postgame.

He’s silent as he watches, though his eyes speak loudly of his love. With self assuredness he has come to expect, you place the unraveled tie on the counter behind you and move swiftly to unbutton his shirt. 

“Can’t get blood on this damn thing again. Dry cleaner can’t get the stain out my ass…” Arber smiles at your muttered musings. Your hands slip over his now bare chest to rid him of the garment. Without instruction, he turns to sit on the closed toilet. With sure hands, you reach for the isopropyl alcohol you’ve singed his skin with many times now and prepare a cotton round. You notice you don’t have to prod at his knee with your own: he’s already created a space for you between his legs.

“Why are you upset baby?”

Your eyes flick to his for the first time in a few bated minutes. Arber’s stare is so genuine you chew your answer a few times before opening your mouth. Having to say it out loud causes you to bristle one more fruitless time. 

“Cause we’re like… so fucking domestic its ridiculous.” Your hands fiddle restlessly with the drenched cotton pad, not moving to press it against his skin. 

Arber’s endeared smirk is immediate. He thinks it's cute when you’re frustrated. Unafraid hands reach for the back of your thighs, tugging gently to place you well within his personal space. His strong fingers brush up and down your legs. You reach to thumb at his collarbone, looking for something to do to dissipate your uneasy energy. Arber gives your ass a gentle squeeze, drawing you impossibly closer to him. 

“Soo.. you’re pissed about a pink gel pen list on our fridge…” His teasing tone has Hades flames sparking in your eyes again. Without hesitation or remorse, you press the cotton pad idle in your hand to a cut under his left eye. 

“Oww shit! Fuck baby give a guy some warn–” 

“Your fridge!” You hiss, before gasping and falling slightly forward. You catch yourself on Arber’s shoulder and try not to blush at the way your boyfriend’s hands squeezed and pulled at your body on reflex. 

“Y/N we’ve been over this.” Arber groans softly, both in pain and frustration. 

“Okay and? Don’t get pissy with me about it if I wanna make it clear that this is your apartment and–.” 

“Sweetheart, you just shoved rubbing alcohol so hard into my face I felt it in my ass okay? Gimme a break here.” His sigh is muddled by a breathy chuckle, his grip loosening a fraction. 

Arber creaks his eyes open slowly to find you sheepish and blushing. Your stare however, in contention, remains confident, unwavering. Arber’s hands skate over the curve of your ass up to your waist. His eyes are kind. 

“Come ‘ere. White flag baby… truce.” Always bending at the will of his strong hands, you let him move you to straddle his hips. His hands roam innocently, Arber finding comfort in your closeness. A gentle drag of the cotton across his cut has you setting the piece aside. Your arms come to reach around his neck, flicking his backwards hat off his head. His nose brushes yours. You fiddle gently with his damp hair. 

“Soo… it’s not our house?” Arber asks gently after a few beats. Your bangs fall from behind your ear as you shake your head softly. With careful fingers, Arber drags his hand over your cheek to replace your hair behind your ear. As you lean into his palm a feather light fraction, Arber hums.

“Alright… that’s okay sweetheart. I get it.” Another pause. “Are you scared about it being our house? What is it that’s upsetting you?” His voice is sure, even. 

You try to craft your explanation but it’s wildly distracting looking into Arber’s eyes and seeing the moon he’s hung for you. Even worse when he places the softest kiss on your lips.

“You can do it honey, it’s okay.” With an encouraging tap to your ass, you find your voice.

“I… I’m worried you’ll resent me for taking so much from you.” 

Your head droops before you can see the confusion quickly overridden by love in Arber’s expression. His nose bumps your forehead.

“You’re my home… what’s mine is yours.” 

He says it like it’s simple.

The unassuming kiss on your forehead and then cheek makes you believe maybe it is.

You’re sure it is when you see the purity of Arber’s expression. Your thumb reaches out to brush his cheek in hopes to see if he’s real; that a man could look at you the way Arber is right now.

“You can still be as independent as you want, I’m sorry if I’ve been too much.” You shake your head insistently, not knowing how to articulate verbally that the way he loves you is already more than you think you deserve. 

“That’s why we’re doing baby steps though, right? Until you see I’m for real.” He adds.

A snort follows a few moments later as does a teasing squeeze from Arber.

“I mean you’re the one who brought the onion chopper over and that ridiculously specific laundry detergent.” He smiles at you as he jostles you in his lap, boyish glee making him the most handsome you’ve ever seen him. Your armor falls without your consent, a smile to match Arber’s betraying you. 

“You told me you love the onion dicer…” At this Arber laughs. You lean forward to kiss the smile off his lips, getting lost for a moment.

“You’re right I did.” He pulls you back with his hand splayed across your neck and thumb under your chin to kiss you deeper. The feel of his hard chest against yours and his locks slipping through your fingers distracts you for a moment. You’re so in sync with each other you’re not sure if your hips roll over his on your own accord or if Arber does it for you.

But he’s not done. Suggestive hands reveal the answer when he murmurs lowly, “Now finish up so I can take care of you.”

#arber xhekaj #arber xhekaj x reader #arber xhekaj imagine #montreal canadiens #montreal canadiens hockey #habs hockey #habs #kaiden guhle #juraj slafkovsky #cole caufield #nick suzuki #tagging for visibility #<3 #my writing #hockey imagine

[beom1e]

ephemeral twenty three | stilled

genre angst, a pinch of fluff. warning anxiety, toxic mindset, self-deprecation. playlist ml. wc 1.37k.

prev | masterlist

this wasn’t going to work out.

everyone else continued to move. it felt like you were standing in the middle of the street as people passed you by at an impossible speed. but you could only stand still, and stare blankly at the sight ahead of you.

beomgyu hadn’t given up yet. he’d waited for you to be ready, and appeared at your door with open arms. nobody had ever hugged you that tightly, nobody had ever held onto you like you were about to slip away before. it was silent and painful. his fingers dug into your skin as he fought off his tears, and you didn’t dare to speak in fear that you’d fall apart. as dramatic as it seemed, both of you were aware of the reality, and how the growing distance between you would only have a negative impact on your relationship.

you talked occasionally. you tried to look him in the eye and believe him when he told he loved you. you couldn’t.

weeks began to pass.

the final term came to an end. for the meantime, you began job hunting in order to pay your rent.

you passed beomgyu in the building regularly. his smile began to fade when he came to the realisation that you really were slipping away from him. he started off trying to talk with you, then watered it down to a civil smile, and then he was silent, and not even his eyes made his way over to you.

you were ruining it.

much like the day that the truth came out, you pulled your knees flush against your chest and cried into your arms. this time, with your back against your headboard.

you weren’t even angry anymore — as much as it pained you — you just missed him. you missed his scent, his presence, his voice, his touch, his laugh, his smile, him.

the tears began to soak through the sleeve of your sweatshirt.

you sniffled, lifted your head, and grabbed your phone. you scrolled to the letter g and began to call, half wishing he wouldn’t pick up. there was comfort in being stilled and heartbroken, as terrible as it made you sound. it had been all you had known for three years before beomgyu came into your life, and the feeling was wonderfully familiar.

‘hello?’ he had just woken up.

‘beomgyu,’ you cried, voice hoarse. ‘i’m sorry.’

the call dropped, as did your phone shortly after. you’d truly messed up.

there was a loud, sharp knock that sent you flying out of bed and straight towards your entrance. when you pulled open the door, there stood beomgyu. you sobbed and threw your arms around him in a hug, letting the tears fall this time, onto the material of his shirt at three in the morning.

but this wasn’t going to work out.

nothing could beat your anxiety. as things began to go back to normal, your mindset never seemed to follow suit. he was around a lot more. he would come over for breakfast, spend the afternoon watching tv on the couch, kiss you goodbye before he left for work, and pick you up after your shifts. but you watched him warily, wondering if he was truly happy or simply trying to fix the heart that he’d broke.

‘are you serious, y/n?’ beomgyu was tired of hearing you ask him if he truly loved you. ‘would i really do all of this if i didn’t love you?’

‘but what’s the difference between trying to prove a point and actions that are sincere?’ you felt your eyes watering.

‘you don’t trust me,’ he commented, feeling defeated for what felt like the tenth time that week.

‘no, i don’t,’ you shot back.

‘how long is it going to take for you to realise that you’re hurting me?’ he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

‘you did this,’ you placed the blame. ‘you hurt me and you destroyed the trust that i had for you.’

‘can you stop?’ it made him feel sick.

‘i’m going to bed,’ you could feel the need to cry approaching. ‘goodnight, beomgyu.’

he thought you were being selfish and careless. he didn’t expect you to forgive and forget easily, but he hadn’t expected for you to turn spiteful. he could never do enough to make you happy, you would always be sitting there picking apart his behaviour and trying to make sense of it all.

but love doesn’t make sense. there doesn’t have to be a reason to love someone, it’s just instinct. you don’t need to have an explanation for why someone would be kind to you, you just have to accept it as reality. that was something you just couldn’t do anymore.

the friends you had made along the way contacted you frequently. that included the four boys dear to you that beomgyu thought of as home. there were no sides for them to choose from, because nobody knew what was going on.

all that they did know was that your relationship had simmered down on social media.

with your love of photography, you regularly uploaded photos you’d taken of beomgyu. you didn’t anymore. random videos usually made their way onto a story of some kind, showcasing sweet or humorous moments between the two of you. they didn’t anymore. when asked how you were doing by any of your friends, you used to answer for beomgyu too, because he was always around. but you didn’t anymore.

there could have been a simple explanation. due to your lives after university, you might have started spending less time together. but still, he was only across the hall.

beomgyu went out with his friends one night. you kissed him goodbye, and he was off. they met at a restaurant for a meal to catch up with each other, and beomgyu spilled the truth about your relationship. he skipped some major details and stated that you were taking a break, because he was planning to ask you for one as soon as he got home. he just couldn’t take the contrast of your loveliness and harshness anymore.

when he showed up at your door, you expected for him to brightly tell you about his night with his friends. instead, he avoided your eyes and walked over to the couch.

when he asked to take a break from your relationship, his hand had personally wrapped around your heart and squeezed it tightly. but in the end, you agreed to it. you knew it was your fault, because you were making a mountain out of a molehill. and beomgyu was so tired of beating himself up just trying to be good enough for you.

it had taken you three days to contact him after the party, and when he finally came over, you told him that you needed a little more time. when he attempted to keep talking with you, despite not having the luxury of being able to call or text you, you only shut him down. your responses were always short and blunt, and he began to give up for your sake. all he wanted was for you to be happy and comfortable around him again, so he gave you the time to process and became a stranger. so when you called him late that night, he jumped at the opportunity to be yours all over again.

but it was hellish. you hadn’t healed, and your brain was only hurting you with all of the nasty thoughts it conjured up. beomgyu’s excitement over having his girlfriend back fizzled out, and spending time with you began to feel like a chore.

but in the end, he put you first.

you needed to heal. maybe he wasn’t right for you, or maybe you weren’t right for him. either way, he couldn’t make you happy, and all he wanted was for you to be happy. so when he asked for the break, the main reason had been for you. if he couldn’t make you happy, he would simply disappear and let you forget about him and all of the pain that he brought.

and you both knew where the break was going, because this wasn’t going to work out.

eternal masterlist

taglist @heart2beom @txtbrainrot @fairyofshampgyu @forever-in-the-sky2 @bluebearybeom @simplygyuu @taekwondoes @ghostfacefricker6969 @wccycc @soobin-chois @yoongisus @meikyuukairou @goldennika @joti17 @yumilovesloona @baekberrie @chillfilms @arizzu @lost-leopard-beanie @makiswrld @gyu2304 @yeonyeonyeonjun @seodami @beowmgyu @catsyoon @harufluff @yenqa @xiaoderrrr @captivq @strawbrinkofdeath @spagettae @woncheecks @i814hue @dimplewonie @wonioml @jwnghyuns @cherryblossomsoobin @beomsitez @beomzgyu @isabelleonabicycle @eggeutarteuu @rikismiel @tae-ology @beeomgui @lqbeorecs @desiree62 @run2seob @amara-mars @run2min @breakmyheartlater

#tomorrow x together #txt #txt x reader #choi beomgyu #beomgyu #txt au #txt angst #beomgyu au #beomgyu angst

[fayes-fics]

Somewhere Only We Know

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Five hours of snowfall, four miles from the nearest paved road, three weeks before Christmas, two old friends and one bed….

Warnings: 18+smut, minors DNI, fingering, handjob, vaginal sex, passing mention of oral sex, all sorts of feelings.

Word Count: 7.9 k I'm so sorry...

Build a blurb prompt 1: Benedict 👅 smut 🌲 mutual pining 🛌 only one bed - from @amillcitygirl Build a blurb prompt 2: modern Benedict 👅smut 👥friends to lovers 🌲mutual pining 🛌only one bed - from anon

Authors Note: *beep beep* make way for the trope bus, it’s coming thru!! Is this original? No. Was it fun to write? Hell YES! This thing was supposed to be 1k follower celebration Drabble (HAHAHA) but it grew its own legs and took over my brain for the last week. This is my winter epic and I even listened to the namesake song as I was editing it. I hope you all enjoy. Betaed by the total trooper @makaylan and beautiful artwork above made especially by @bridgertontess thank you 🧡

“You’ll just have to stay here,” he shrugs, peering out at the falling snow.

You glance at your watch. It’s 5pm and already dark, snowflakes swirling furiously in the glow cast by the window.

This was not your plan. You are booked onto a late flight back to London tonight. You only came out to the beautiful Highlands for a day in nature after your business trip to Glasgow. OK, and a dose of time with the most handsome friend you have, but mainly for the scenery.

He’s rented a tiny cottage for a week as a painting retreat. Why he would do that in early December is a slight mystery. However, the scenery will undoubtedly be even more breathtaking with a blanket of snow tomorrow—an artist's dream.

“Look, the roads here are tiny and treacherous. It’s too risky to attempt the airport drive tonight in the dark in this snowstorm. I will pay for you to fly home tomorrow instead,” Benedict assures, “penance for not checking the forecast before inviting you?” he winces in the hopes of forgiveness.

“But…” you protest weakly, not exactly hating the idea of being trapped in a remote cottage in the mountains with the man who has haunted your dreams for more years than you care to remember.

“This place is warm,” he points to the roaring fireplace. “And well stocked, in more ways than one,” he adds, gesturing to the kitchenette full of supplies and, with a flourish, to the small selection of single malt bottles on a nearby shelf. “There’s even some festive decor,” he argues.

You are entertained that he believes some sprigs of holly, which he has obviously collected on one of his hikes, count as Christmas decorations. Although, to be fair, wrapped around the bookshelves and candles the way it is, it does look lovely.

‘Yes, but… there's also only one bed,” you argue, nodding to the not-exactly sizable double bed at the other end of the room, partially obscured by a room-dividing bookshelf. Even as you mention it, your belly has a warm fizz at the fleeting thought of waking up pressed against him.

“I can sleep on the sofa,” he says hurriedly in a reassuring tone.

“Ben, don't be ridiculous. You are six feet tall, and that thing is barely five. We are not so young we can just sleep anywhere and still be okay anymore,” you remind him.

“Yeah, thanks for that reminder,” he deadpans.

“We are grown-ups; we can share a bed,” trying to keep your tone breezy, but it feels like the reassurance is for yourself as much as him.

You pretend not to see how he swallows thickly at your suggestion, his Adam’s apple bobbing heavily.

“If it makes you more comfortable, I can fashion a barrier with some throw cushions,” you shrug, a short nervous laugh bubbling up as you secretly chastise yourself for suggesting such a thing.

“No, no,” he rushes out very quickly. “What I mean is… it’s not a big bed, so by the time we do that, we would both be clinging to the edges. Let’s just, as you say, be adults about this and share the best we can.”

“Agreed.” You give a business-like nod, wanting to change the topic.

“Besides, the night is young,” he states, clapping and rubbing his hands together as if reading your mind. “What do you say we cook dinner together? Then, well, it’s card games or jigsaw puzzles, I’m afraid,” he skews his mouth with an apologetic twist.

“Sounds delightful on all counts,” you assure and bump him with your shoulder.

The evening seems to fly by, and the snowstorm outside somewhat abates as you make a delicious spaghetti bolognese together. Even though it's a tiny kitchen space, you make it work, moving around each other with an almost balletic fluidity as soft music plays from a Bluetooth speaker. There's no Wi-Fi or even much phone signal out here, but he came prepared with songs loaded onto his laptop. You exchange easy chat about mutual friends and what has been happening since you last saw one another a few weeks before.

As you sit down to eat together, the conversation flow continues. It's one of those meals you sop up the sauce from your plate with the warm bread rolls you serve as a side. Lingering in your chairs long after eating is complete, chatting amiably and animatedly about anything, everything and nothing all at once, with a delicious bottle of scotch.

Later, you take turns in the bathroom, cleaning teeth and changing into pyjama bottoms, and then you drift to the living room area. You watch as Benedict pours you both a nightcap into scotch glasses and glance outside to see the storm has picked up again, large clumps of fluffy snow gather in the corner of the window pane; you feel very cosy in this small but perfectly formed little rustic cottage.

“So, how have you been entertaining yourself all alone here for the last four nights?” you inquire, enjoying the smooth, smoky burn of the single malt.

Benedict is now sprawled across the nearby armchair in the most Benedict way, legs akimbo.

“I’ve read two books, and I’ve slept for nine hours every night,” he confesses, taking a sip of his drink and looking at you over the top of his glass.

The room feels like it's getting warmer regardless of the fire; how much is due to the delightful fog of whisky in your veins versus the handsome man across from you is indecipherable.

“Are you not lonely?” you blurt out.

“I live alone in London. What's the difference?” his brow knitting in confusion.

“Alone in the city is very different to alone out here,” you offer, “you can’t be that lonely when you’re only twenty feet from your neighbour through a wall.”

“Hmm, never thought about it like that,” his mien turns thoughtful, scratching his palm on the shadow of stubble on his chin.

You hear the rasp from where you sit, and you almost squeak in surprise as your treacherous mind supplies a vivid snapshot of that stubble teasing the soft skin of your lower belly as he looks up at you with a seductive smirk. You have to shake your head to get rid of it.

“Fear of murder out here is different,” you offer, trying to reroute your thoughts.

“Morbid,” he shoots back, raising an eyebrow with a bemused expression on his face.

“Out here, no one can hear you scream,” you jest, aping the movie line.

He guffaws into his glass. “Sometimes that can be a good thing.”

“Murder?!”

“The ability to scream and not be heard,” he clarifies, his tone markedly more languid than before.

“Painting not going well?” you ask with a chuckle.

“It’s going great, but not what I was referring to,” he argues, and you can’t seem to look away from his mouth all of a sudden.

Damn, how much whisky have you had?

“Had a girl here, Bridgerton?” your venture, a flutter in your chest even as you ask.

“Not until now,” he scoffs, but the intensity in his hazy blue stare causes a riot in your stomach.

You have to look down at your feet before you do something stupid, like climb into his lap and suck on his luscious bottom lip.

“Have you been masturbating loudly?” you quip, still looking down, the thought leaving your lips before you can censor it.

There’s a sharp intake of breath, making you look back at him—big mistake. His eyes look stormy, and you can see a vein in his neck pulsing hard. Like you’ve awoken something.

“I’m sorry, that was rude of me,” you stutter even as your mind floods with images of just that—him stroking his cock and panting, preferably your name.

The atmosphere feels a little too thick, and you briefly curl your lip into your mouth and bite it to give yourself something else to focus on.

“More whisky?” you offer, standing up and changing the subject.

“Sure.” He holds out his glass, and you swear his fingers intentionally slot between yours as he passes it to you.

You use the few moments it takes to refill your drinks, with your back turned, to gather your thoughts and slow your breathing. Having served, you sink onto the couch again but intentionally shift to face him more directly. The alcohol makes you bold and intrigued to know where this might go. He seems to do the same, his feet looping over the armchair's edge and almost touching yours.

“Hey, do you remember that summer when we were, l think, maybe twelve and…”

“Excuse me, point of order,” you butt in, “If you were twelve, I was ten. OK? Continue…” you motion with your hands for him to go on.

“Yes, thanks for reminding me I am older,” he snarks and skews his mouth into an affectionate pout.

“You are welcome, old man,” you tease with a slight smirk.

“Well, anyway… do you remember that summer Colin came home with headlice? And Ant’s answer was to shave all of our heads? Mum almost had a heart attack when she walked in on that. She was forever grateful he’d only gotten around to doing us three boys. She might have died if we’d made it down to Daph or El…” he is laughing heartily around his scotch glass at the memory.

“Remember it?!?” you pipe up, “of course I do! Don't you remember you were trying to push me in front of your sisters in Ant’s barber line? You seemed concerned to ensure I either got rid of or never got them in the first place; I don't remember which,” you laugh, an ache of fond nostalgia in your chest at little Benedict.

“Well, of course, I’ve always looked out for you,” he rolls his eyes as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

You smile a genuinely warm smile at him. He's been a wonderful person in your life for as long as you can remember.

“But you’ve always looked out for me too. I remember you brought me a Malteser every day when I was sick with the mumps.”

“I did?!” your voice incredulous; you do not remember doing so.

“Yes, and I've never forgotten it,” he voices sincerely before he takes a draw of his drink. “But then there is so much about you that is unforgettable, isn't there?” he adds, looking at you with an intensity you don't know what to do with.

“Stop it,” you answer bashfully, embarrassed to meet his gaze, staring beyond his shoulder at the snow falling heavily and sticking to the window in fluffy clumps. “And if we’re on this flattery train, what about you? You think I don’t know it’s been you sending me an ‘anonymous’ rose every single Valentine's Day?”

He gapes at you in surprise. “Wait, how did you know it’s from me?’”

“You are the sweetest person I know. It could never be anyone but you, Ben.” You shrug as if the answer is obvious, “and I know it was never out of pity for the times I’m single because you sent one those years I was with Dan, which used to make him so mad, by the way, and when I was with Julian and Paul….”

“Urgh, Dan deserved to be mad,” his tone dismissive, and his face ticked, “I always hated him.”

“You hated everyone I dated, that you met anyway,” you point out, that fact just dawning on your as you speak it.

“But him the most,” he grouses with a sour expression.

“Why?”

“‘Cos he got the closest to marrying you. And I really didn’t want to have to do that whole stand-up in church and object thing. But, by god, I would have.”

His powerful words stun you; you had no idea how deep his feelings on the subject ran.

“Y… you would?” you stutter.

His eyes are so intense now. Even as he takes a swig, he doesn't look away. “He was not worthy of you,” he declares, slow and deliberate, enunciating each word crisply.

“So, who is?” you ask quietly as you take a sip, the question echoing hollowly in your glass.

“I haven't met anyone yet,” he notes with finality.

You had no idea he had judged every single one of your boyfriends and, what’s more, found all of them to be somehow lacking. In hindsight, he was correct, but he never said anything to you at the time, and you can't decide if you want to hold that against him. It might have saved you a lot of heartache and possibly a lot of money.

“Well, if you meet someone that has the Benedict seal of approval, you’ll be sure to send them my way, yeah?” you volley, your voice light.

He breaks into a smile that makes something flutter strong in your ribcage.

“Certainly. I hope you don't mind waiting until possibly your eighties for me to find a worthy suitor,” he jokes.

“Oh god, really?” you groan, “but I can’t not have sex until then,” you lament and kick your legs out as if in a fit of pique.

“Oh, you can have all the sex you want,” he lobbies back, waving his hand dismissively, “you just can’t fall in love,” his eyes twinkle with mischief you’ve always found beguiling.

“Duly noted,” you giggle.

There is a beat where you just look at each other with a shared fondness that makes your heart ache a little—perhaps under different circumstances, he could be the one person worthy of you, as he puts it.

“Well, that is the last log on the fire dying down. I'm not going out in that damn snow to fetch more, so I think the safest thing to do is get under the covers before it gets too cold in here.” he opines.

“Ben, it's 10:30 pm… really?” you whine, “are you really going to bed already, grandpa?” but as you complain, you stifle a yawn.

“Haha, I saw that yawn!” he retorts triumphantly, “and I've got news for you, missy. You are going to bed too.” He grabs both of your hands and easily hauls you off the sofa.

“Why?!?” you scoff but are secretly enthralled when he rounds behind you, his sizable hands landing warm on your hips and propelling you towards the bedroom area.

“Because I’m not having you crawl under the covers later bringing in all that cold air with you, nope, no thank you, not happening,” he chimes over your shoulder.

“So I have to go to bed now?!” you throw your hands up in the air, but he keeps propelling you forward.

“Yup,” he grins, popping the ‘p’ rather obnoxiously.

You capitulate with a weary sigh. “Urghhh, fine. But I will be up reading for a few more hours, so I hope you can sleep with the light on.”

“Fine with me,” he chuckles, herding you towards the bed. “I once slept in your dorm room when your flatmate was having a full-on dance party. I think I can sleep through your reading.”

You collapse onto the bed giggling at that memory, tugging off your shoes and socks but nothing else as he does the same. He pulls the covers back, and you both settle under, still in your fleecy jumpers. Without your socks, however, your feet feel freezing, and with a wicked grin, you cook up a solution.

“Oh my god, what the hell is wrong with your feet?!? Why are they so cold!!” he exclaims as your toes wrap around his exposed ankle.

He twists to try and get away from you, but your feet chase him under the covers, you laughing, him shrieking.

“My hands are cold too,” you chortle, clamping them onto his surprisingly muscular forearm.

He squeals in the most undignified manner, trying to shake your grip, but you just limpet on harder, giggling in that way only tipsy people do.

There is the most delightful resulting tussle, him trying to wrestle your hands and feet away as you try your damndest to keep them on him—the duvet entwining around all of your limbs.

You end up with his weight and warmth partially on top of you, pinning you down, him triumphantly ensnaring your wrists and holding your hands firmly onto the pillow. Your joint heavy breathing and giggles slowly die out as you stare at each other. Your faces have never been so close before. You have no doubt your pupils are as blown as his, and you are certain that he can feel the racing heartbeat at your wrists where he pins you down. His breath is warm on your cheek.

After a few silent moments, his gaze drops to your mouth; he suddenly mutters an apology and starts to pull away.

As if in slow motion, you push up and press your lips to his. You are not thinking at all, just going with your instinct. His lips are warm and plush, and you want more. So much more.

You feel the moment his whole body freezes; he is stunned in the truest sense of the word.

You pull back quickly, sinking into the pillow under him.

“Oh god. I’m so, so sorry,” you whisper, mortified, “please forgive me, I….”

Your words die out as he makes a noise you’ve never heard before. It seems to come from deep inside him, making every hair on your body stand on end.

Then he is on you. Closing the gap between you and capturing your lips with a passion that steals your breath and thoughts. He is kissing so hard, so quickly, you feel lightheaded, pressing you into the mattress under his body. His lips open over yours, his tongue teasing against your lips. He tastes of toothpaste, traces of whiskey and something that is all him, and you flood your underwear; there's also a noise from your throat that doesn’t sound human. He kisses like a storm, hot and electric, and you want to drown in him.

Suddenly his hands are everywhere, and so yours follow suit. It’s a desperate clambering of wanting more. Before you can completely acknowledge it, his hands are questing under your jumper, squeezing your waist, sliding up and over your bra, and tweaking a nipple as his tongue parries with yours.

“Please, please take this off,” he implores passionately into your mouth, tugging at your top. His voice, this close and breathless, is lethal. He is everywhere, surrounding and covering you, and your focus narrows to just him as he sits up to peel off his jumper and t-shirt together, exposing his torso. You freeze. Your arms crossed, halfway through taking off yours.

“Fucking hell,” you exhale before you can stop yourself.

You figured Benedict would be in shape from the feel of his body when you hug, but you haven't seen him shirtless in a long time, and just how much in shape he is, is a revelation. He smiles demurely at your outburst, which makes you want him even more if that were possible.

“Take yours off,” he sounds impatient, and you realise you are still frozen in the same position. You quickly whip yours over your head; his responding noise is your new favourite sound. You feel so grateful you only brought nice underwear on this trip; your lacy bra appears to work for him.

“The knickers match,” you murmur, revelling in the flash in his eye.

You grab his hand and move it to the drawstring on your pyjamas. His long slender fingers pluck the bow tied there; his gaze is on your face the whole time, his kiss-damp lips glowing softly in the low light. You breathe deeply and can’t look away from his captivating face. When the string relents, he winks. Rather than pull them down, his hand quests inside and between your legs.

You gasp and buck up off the pillow as warm, strong fingers press on your clit through the lacy fabric. You know he can feel your heat, just how wet the material is.

“I’ve wanted you for years,” he rumbles low and sinful as his fingers tease a circle over your clit. “Although this seems unreal - I half assume I’m going to wake up in a minute with my hand wrapped around my cock, alone.”

Hearing him say the word cock makes you moan. He licks his lips, and his fingers curl firmer on you.

“Tell me this is real; I’m not dreaming again,” he pleads fervently, pressing his forehead to yours, breathing your air. He is achingly beautiful this close up, his eyes just a thin ring blazing around dark inky pupils staring into your depths. This man has always been able to make you feel seen, but this close, this intense, it feels like he’s peering into your soul.

“You’re not dreaming, Ben,” you reply shakily, trying not to lose all composure at what the word ‘again’ might imply as he gradually tortures you with unhurried, steady movements.

He is watching your face, so closely observing, cataloguing your micro-expressions. His fingers move, spidering along the lace trim before pushing under the fabric this time, sliding down through your trimmed pubic hair and into your naked, soaked folds.

“Ben!” You call out, grasping that strong forearm again, biting your lip and staring into his fiery gaze.

“What do you need?” he questions. It’s the first time anyone has ever asked you that in bed.

“You,” you reply honestly.

“You have me, 110% you have me,” he asserts in a tone that melts something in your chest. “As if you don't know it, you’ve had me for many years,” he admits as his hand slides lower. You cry out as he pushes two fingers just a fraction inside you.

“Fuck, you are on fire,” he exclaims, a shaky exhale across your lips.

“Only for you,” you answer, knowing you’ve never been this turned on before in your life.

He growls, actually growls. And then his lips are back on yours in the most potent kiss yet. You pulse around him and groan into his mouth as he sinks his fingers deeper. When the kiss ends, you glance down your body, seeing the stiff peaks of your nipples poking insistently through the lace and his sinewy forearm buried into your pyjama bottoms.

“Do you like what you see?” his voice a velvety tease.

“I’d like it even more if we were naked,” you respond honestly.

He chuckles at that, and his lips descend, dropping light kisses down your neck as his fingers tease you, surging in and out of your body so achingly slow. His thumb rests on your clit, a little nudge of pressure every time his fingers rock into your channel.

“I need to make you come like I need air,” he confesses, his voice resonant, his warm breath skittering over the sensitive skin of your throat. It’s the hottest thing you've ever heard.

“Please do…” it’s a quiet plea.

You feel the curve of his cheek as he smiles, and the fingers inside you flex.

“I suppose if you’d like to be more naked, then I’d better strip you down first,” he remarks, gently withdrawing his fingers.

Warm hands hook into your underwear, and he scooches away, pulling them down your legs, taking your PJs with them. Suddenly, the image that flashed in your mind earlier becomes a reality, his stubbly chin grazing your belly as he crawls back over you.

“You look amazing,” he sighs over your belly button and leans his forehead on your stomach as he takes a deep breath. “You smell it too.”

He runs his nose and lips over your skin as he surges up and nuzzles your bra, pleading with his eyes for you to remove it as he pulls the straps down over your arms, kissing along the lacy cup edge.

When his lips wrap around one of your nipples, you grab his hair and push up against him, the swoop of sensation in your belly like riding a rollercoaster, the thrill tingling along the back of your scalp.

He moves to lay beside you, and you watch the duvet move as he strips off his bottoms under it. Suddenly there is a thick wave of body heat as he rolls next to you; you feel something sizeable and solid brand your hip.

“Oh, Ben,” slips out on instinct, but he stops your questing hand.

“Not yet,” he shakes his head and smirks at your corresponding pout. “When you have come, preferably screaming, then you can touch my cock. Okay?”

You physically feel the shiver down your spine at that line. Who even says things like that?

He smiles against your temple as he slips his fingers back into you, and you moan at the sensation. He curls his body around you, legs twining around your right one to hold you open. That cock is still rigid on your hip; it feels sizeable and delicious.

“Tell me what you like,” he murmurs, his thumb rubbing a circle over your clit his fingers stroking in a come hither motion.

“This… exactly what you are doing,” you reply breathlessly, “just please don't stop and maybe go a little harder?” you request timidly.

He smirks and pushes his fingers deeper; his motions get stronger and faster. You close your eyes and nod, licking your lips.

“Yes, that oh god Ben, thattttt,” you stumble as his magical fingers spiral you higher.

When they jab a spot inside, a bloom of pleasure hits you, and your eyes fly open, going wide.

“Oh, that’s the spot,” he preens, redoubling his efforts as you start to pant loudly, clinging to his arm and whining his name—the hot and intense pleasure building remarkably fast.

“That’s it come on,” he encourages, whispering into your hairline right above your ear; his tone is both soothing and achingly filthy.

“Ben… I,” your words morph into needy noises, drunk on the sensations rippling through your body, fanning out from his fingers buried inside you.

“Yes, yes,” he hisses, “you’re close now; I can feel it. Look at me,” he orders.

And you do. Mouth hanging open, squirming on his fingers, feeling something primal washing over you. His eyes burn into yours.

“Don’t fight it,” he warns.

It's almost like permission; you feel something inside you give way. You scream loudly as a tide of orgasm washes over you. Blood rushes in your ears, and you feel his leg bear down over the apex of your thigh, holding your pelvis onto the bed as you cry and convulse. Your body fights his fingers, trying to push them out as your whole channel clenches in strong waves.

After a few moments of deep breaths, you open your eyes, and he kisses your cheek, then your lips.

“Wow… that was…. absolutely amazing,” he confides, kissing more. “And it's a damn good thing no one can hear us here. You scream like a horror movie queen, and I mean that with all the very best compliments.”

You laugh a little abashed and bury your face into his armpit, loving the smell of his deodorant and just him.

“Your turn,” you mumble, deciding to be bold and snake a hand down your side to grab his cock at your hip.

It’s large and thick enough your fingers don’t quite meet when you wrap around it. It makes your insides melt at the thought of how it would feel sliding into you. He makes the neediest huffing noises as you twist onto your side to face him and begin an unhurried rhythm, watching that pretty cock twitch in your hand.

You tease him with a gentle twisting motion, squeezing a little as you reach his head, swiping a thumb over the bead of precum that appears, gently massaging his frenulum as he lets out a faint moan. His hand covers yours, stilling your movements.

“This is so wonderful, but I need you to stop if you want sex. Do you want to… have sex?” he asks so demurely your heart clenches.

“Yes, Ben, please,” you whisper.

“I didn't bring any condoms with me,” he says quietly, “I didn't think I’d meet another soul up here, let alone well…” he trails off, pitching forward, so his lips are warm on your cheek.

“I didn't either, but I'm on the Pill,” you shrug. You've never had first-time sex without a condom, but this man isn't a stranger; he's a lifelong friend, and you trust him with your life.

“I know,” he says softly, kissing your nose.

“Wait, how do you know that?” your brow knitting lightly.

“I know everything about you,” he asserts against your skin, staring into your eyes. “How you take your tea - English breakfast before 2pm, Earl Grey after, both with milk and one sugar. I know how the tip of your tongue here,” he softly trails his nose over the corner of your mouth, “sticks out of your mouth when you type on your laptop. I know you always loop your glasses into the neckline of your top,” a finger tracing gently over the swell of your breast, “and somehow always forget they are there and have a ten-second panic every time.” He laughs gently. “I even know how you prefer plain Hobnobs over chocolate; I have no idea why, and you are so wrong on that, by the way,” he shoots you a devastating lopsided grin. “And I know you are on the Pill because I've watched you take them religiously for years; when I stay at yours, and you make coffee in the morning, it’s the first thing you take before your multivitamin.”

His casual recounting of so many little, human things that make you, you, astounds you. This man knows you better than you know yourself, and you get a weird swooping sensation in your chest. Of elation that you've finally figured it out, he might just be the one - your human, but also a crushing regret you haven't done so sooner. You could have been doing this, intimately entwined with this wonderful, thoughtful, sensitive, handsome man, for so many years.

Not wanting to waste any more opportunity and so very desperate to have him inside you, you use all your strength to roll him onto his back and climb on top. Surprised and aroused, he looks up at you devotedly, his pupils blown wide.

Silently and without breaking eye contact, you reach between your bodies, line up his weeping beautiful cock, and sink onto him without another thought. The needy noise he makes is like poetry.

He feels perfect, and you close your eyes to revel in being stretched around him, a solid hot presence filling you up and holding you so open. Just the perfect length and girth for you, almost like his cock was made for you.

Warm hands grasp your hips, and your eyes fly open and look down at him, his expression pleading with you to move. Gradually you rise up, then drop down just once, savouring the sensations as he drags against your walls.

“You feel perfect,” he groans “please….”

You know what he is asking, begging for - more. Something in you wants to draw this out, go so achingly slow both of you get mindless. Luxuriate in this carnal, sensual meeting.

“Talk to me,” you implore, starting a leisurely pace.

“What about?” you watch him glance down between your bodies, watching his cock disappear into you as you sink down.

“Talk to me, Ben,” you repeat but pointedly, grabbing his chin to look at you and raising an eyebrow.

There's a lightbulb of understanding behind his eyes, and that killer crooked smile spreads across his face.

“You like my voice, don't you?” he says, pitched low, and you bite your lip, grabbing his hands as leverage for your movements.

“Yes,” you admit quietly, gasping as the pleasure grows between your legs just as he says those few words.

“I know,” he smirks, “I’ve known for years.”

You look at him in surprise. “Wait, how?” you breathe, disbelieving.

He grabs your shoulders and pulls you down on top of him: so much heat and warm flesh.

“I have noticed your pupils dilate every time I drop my voice just like this,” he murmurs low and sinful into your ear. “The temptation to say so many dirty things has been so strong. God, I love it when you are aroused, and you think you can hide it. I knew you were getting wet; it would take all my willpower not to grab and kiss you senselessly. Especially those days when you are only in a little floaty skirt, I could actually smell it. Delicious and sweet and so fucking sexy. That little squirm you would do. How you move your body is fucking sinful. And now I get to enjoy it. You riding me like this. Fuck, if this isn't every fantasy I've ever had coming true.”

By the time his filthy soliloquy is done, you are panting hard, not from the exertion as you rock on him but the way he has pushed you so close to orgasm with so little effort - just his voice and words.

“Ben,” you shudder, “I….” words fail as you feel your body flush.

“I can feel you are fluttering. Are you going to come so soon?” he exhales, impressed. “Oh god, please, please do it,” he urges. “I need to feel it.”

You sit up and reach down to touch your clit, and he swears at the sight. You are tipping over the edge, stilling your movement as you sit with him at your hilt and clench around him. He feels impossibly huge inside you, twitching and pulsing.

“Fuckkkkkkkk,” he groans long and loud, clenching his teeth. You know he is also fighting the urge to come, wanting this to last much longer.

Greedy for more, for another stronger climax, you go to move again, but he stops you.

“Please don't move, not yet,” he pleads, grabbing your hips and quelling your movement. “I need… a few moments, please.”

You smile down at him indulgently and link your hands again, bringing the back of his hand to your mouth and kissing it delicately. Then to be a tease, you envelop his middle finger in your mouth, running your tongue over it, tasting his tangy skin. He growls as you add his pointer finger and suck hard, staring down at him heatedly.

“This isn't really helping,” he warns reluctantly with a playful pout.

You let his fingers slip out of your mouth and guide his hand to your breasts, pressing his now-damp fingers against your nipple. He enthusiastically grips your flesh, and you throw your head back and moan as he teases your sensitive buds, pinching them between his fingertips. You gyrate your hips, dragging his tip against your cervix.

There is another growl, and suddenly you are tipped over onto the mattress, him still buried inside you. He grabs your legs and loops his arms under them, pulling your body so open under him.

“Hold onto me… twine your arms around me,” he instructs.

You do, fingers digging into his smooth, muscular torso. Panting in anticipation; at the feel of him holding you down, his pelvis crushed against your engorged clit.

He begins to move, and you can't help but make noises; he just overwhelms all your senses. His kisses, his skin, his arms, your legs held high and wide. He is almost delicate in his motion, but you can tell he is holding back.

“Don't be too gentle, Ben,” you beg, bringing one hand up to cup his jaw and running your thumb over his bottom lip. “Please just fuck me.”

His mouth captures your thumb, and you gasp as he spears into you hard. You hiss your approval as he crowds over you to kiss you fiercely. Then everything is a haze as your mind switches off, and you are rooted in your body, chasing sensation as he takes you hard. He feels so hot and rigid, pounding into you as you lay under him, pinned and almost helpless to this onslaught but wanting nothing more than being right where you are. For a first time together, it’s not awkward or timid; it's exciting and mindblowing but somehow still safe, knowing you can trust him with everything, including your body.

Between kisses, there are whispered encouragements against lips and hands grasping so tight to each other as movements become more frantic and fast. He is hitting your clit on each stroke and panting, so present in the moment, eyes boring into yours. You know he is so close, hanging by a thread when he screws his eyes shut and pleads with you to come with him. A few more strokes and it is happening, your orgasm hitting you hard and breaking over your body in waves, fanning out from your core as you clench around him, making your muscles spasm and your toes curl. You feel him coming hard, too, a warm bloom inside you as he jerks a few heavy thrusts, then stills, mouth open over yours and huffing gulps of air as he twitches.

After a few moments of deep breaths and slumped limbs, he pulls his face up to kiss you tenderly.

“Wow,” he breathes, and you giggle and nod your head. “Why haven't we been doing that for the last god knows how many years?” he shakes his head, his voice a little ragged and rough-edged.

“I don't know, but we should be doing a lot more of it,” you respond brightly, “make up for lost time?”

He laughs warmly and agrees, taking his weight off you and rolling and rearranging your bodies so you are both on your sides, facing each other, hands laced together, noses touching. And that is how you fall asleep.

—

You awaken to dazzling sunlight streaming in, reflecting off all the snow. You wince against the brightness and clamp your eyes shut, burrowing back into Benedict. You feel surrounded, in the best sense of the word. He is a warm solid presence behind your back, an arm slung around the dip of your waist, a hand curled around your breast, legs entangled, downy hair tickling your calves. And best of all, a hard cock nestles the back of your thighs. You flex your hips and shuffle until his tip is poised right at your entrance. He stirs, and there is a hot exhale on the back of your neck.

“Get inside me, please,” you petition quietly, voice scratchy from sleep.

Wordlessly, he rolls his hips, surging into your body in one swift stroke. You moan so loudly that he huffs a laugh, then stills, buried inside you.

“Now go back to sleep,” he grumbles affectionately, arm pulling you into him tighter, your whole body flush to his, curling his legs up so you are almost in the fetal position.

“Like this?!” your tone incredulous, as his fingernails trace an idle ellipsis around your areola.

“Mmm hmmm,” his hum vibrates into your spine.

“Bennnn…” you protest, clenching around him, so he groans deeply.

“I promise to fuck you so hard you forget your name… later, if you let me sleep just a little more,” he proposes, nuzzling your hair.

What a lovely thought. You lay still in his arms for a few minutes, but his cock holding you open is far too distracting.

“Bennn…” you try again.

“Shhhhh…” he reacts, but you can tell he's not sleepy anymore; there is a smile on the nape of your neck.

“You feel too good; I can’t sleep,” you whine, slightly petulant.

“You’re not even trying,” he chuckles richly.

“You can't do this to me,” you wheedle, your breath hitching triumphantly as he tilts his pelvis and slips a fraction deeper.

“If I fuck you right now, will you stop complaining?” his tone laced with amusement.

“Hmmm, maybe,” you shoot back, twisting to glance at him over your shoulder, seeing his eyes dancing with mirth.

Your lips meet, and it's a breathy passionate kiss, all open mouths and tongues, teasing each other and fighting for dominance.

As your mouths dance, he starts to move at a languid pace, just rocking into your body gently, and it’s the best wake-up you have ever had. You cover his hand on your breast, and he intuits what you are asking, squeezing the swell, your nipple snagged between his middle and pointer finger. You break the kiss, and his teeth gently skim the cord on your neck as he speeds up a little.

“Will you wake me up like this every day, please?” you sigh, not thinking about the implications of your words, just drunk on the sensation.

“Happily,” he rumbles and spears a little stronger, making you call out his name.

“The sound I really want to wake up to though….” his voice teasing and low. “is this one…” and his hand slips from your breast to between your legs.

You moan and writhe in his strong hold, little sparks of pleasure firing where he touches.

“That’s it, that’s the sound,” he encourages as you both move together in sync.

It’s a wonderfully sensual experience, growing in intensity until he rolls you over onto your front, still inside you, fucking into you from behind, covering your entire body with his. His hand is trapped between your body and the mattress while teasing your clit.

“Oh god, Ben,” you cry as he seems to slide deeper than ever, your thigh trapped shut together, his legs bracketing yours, using all his effort to drive into you, the tone shifting from languid to vigorous. You’ve never been taken in this position before, and at this angle, he is hitting all the right spots inside you to make your eyes roll back and bite the pillow.

It hurtles you fast, beginning to pant raggedly, and you urge him on, asking for more and harder, and he obliges, thrusting so strong your whole body rolls and the bed squeaks loudly in protest. Your voice becomes one long moaning sound; you are pushing back onto his cock as much as possible, a chorus of please don't stop as he drives you fast towards a climax. His body is bowed, breathing hot puffs of air across your upper back, with an occasional kiss, his lips soft and wet.

He holds you on a precipice for a moment; you crane to look back at his face pleadingly; his expression is wild and so gorgeous it catches your breath.

“You are magnificent,” he rasps against your skin.

Then the hand not on your clit suddenly spanks your butt cheek while his teeth sink into the top of your trapezius muscle, pushing you over the edge, calling his name as you pulsate hard around him. Him grunting and thrusting deeper, fighting your clenching muscles. Then he stills, and every muscle tenses as he empties into your body, almost shaking from the intensity.

He collapses onto your back, breathing in wracked sounds.

“Fucking hell,” you both say almost in unison, then giggle at your matching assessment of the experience.

He pulls out of you reluctantly and flops down onto the mattress to your left, wrapping an arm around you and manoeuvring so are the little spoon once again.

“That was intense,” he voices, and you make a noise of agreement, lacing your fingers with his and holding your joined hands up, watching his fingers sink between yours and curve over, his fingertips resting on your palm.

“We are awesome at sex,” you opine. Benedict chuckles at that, hooking his chin over your shoulder. “And you know what that means?”

“What?” his tone lilting.

“We just have to keep doing it all the time,” you observe with a mock, burdened sigh.

“What a terrible hardship for us,” he concurs with an ironic laugh, nuzzling your neck with a grin on his face. __

Half an hour later, you have showered together - which proved almost as distracting as morning sex until the hot water tank ran out, and you jumped out squealing as the water turned ice cold - and are now leisurely making brunch. You both only wear towelling robes you stole from your Glasgow hotel room, the fireplace roaring again. You agree to go for a walk in the snow later, neither of you mentioning booking your flight home.

“Wait, why is this sofa so bloody uncomfortable” you bemoan, taking a sip of coffee and flicking idly through a book you took from a shelf. “I don't remember it being this bad last night,” you ponder aloud.

“Well, you had had a couple of whiskeys by then,” Benedict points out as he cooks an amazing-smelling breakfast a few feet away in the kitchenette.

“True, but honestly, what is going on with it?” you grumble, putting the book aside, not yet sufficiently caffeinated.

“Sofa beds tend not to be comfortable. As either a sofa or a bed,” he rattles out, flipping a slice of bacon in the pan.

You grind to a halt in your efforts to get comfy.

“Sofa bed…?” You echo out loud.

He suddenly freezes and realises what he has admitted.

“Benedict bloody Bridgerton!!” you exclaim loudly, standing up, “did you trick me into sharing your bed?!?”

He turns around slowly, knowing he is foiled and pulls a sheepish face.

“Yeahhhh, a lil bit…” he admits as you gape at him, attempting his most winning remorseful smile. “But, in my defence…” he adds, waving the spatula, “you are the one who kissed me first. I just stacked the deck; you drew the first card.”

He expertly swerves the cushion you throw at him before flicking off the stove and pushing aside the pan.

“Right…” he charges at you as you squeal.

He corners you with ease in the compact space and throws you over his shoulder.

“We are using this stupid sofa bed right now,” he instructs and, rather attractively, casually flicks a handle on the side with his foot to open it. He practically throws you onto the (admitted thin, rather uncomfortable) bed and tugs open your robe, snaking his way down your body and throwing your legs over his shoulder, shooting you a molten hot gaze from between your thighs.

You have no arguments with this development. None whatsoever.

—

You return to that tiny cottage every year for that same week as a ritual—a little private anniversary. Sometimes you stay through New Year, just the two of you ringing in the entire festive season.

He buys it for you as a wedding gift, and you cry at the sentimentality of the man buying you the place you first got together. (One thing you do early on - buy a new, comfortable sofa.)

It becomes a haven for your lives together, even when you have to bring cots and camp beds for your children, all sleeping communally in that one room. (You don’t tell them, but all of your children are named after characters in an obscure old book he finds hidden in the rafters when you are renovating while pregnant with your firstborn.)

Nothing brings you more joy than when you can escape to that little cottage in the Highlands. You never tell anyone besides your children where it is—it’s your escape, your sanctuary. The “somewhere only we know,” as Benedict always called it.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @wysteria-clad @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton smut #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton #1k follower celebration #build a blurb celebration

[drefear]

Kitten Licks

Summary: You and Miguel have a little 'get-together' like usual, but something seems off. To make matters worse, Kingpin needs another favor.

part 1 - part 2

TW: penetrative sex, slight bits of rejection, fighting, alcohol

“Fuck!” You call out as Miguel thrusts into you, holding your waist in place as he panted from above you. Your nails dragged down his chest, making him hiss as his large hands tightened around your sides as he rutted harder. 

This was a normal occurrence between the two of you. Hard, fast sex on nights you both worked together, and then you’d quietly disappear before he woke up the next morning. 

Bowing his head into your neck, your coil finally snapped as he hit that one spot over and over, your legs winding around his hips and locking as he tensed in your hold and finished as well. You both groan as you bite his shoulder to stay quiet and shiver in his embrace. Miguel lifts his head and peppers kisses over your collar bone as you catch your breath, eyes closed as your head leans back against his pillow. 

The silence is loud in the room while you both regain composure and he leans down to get close to your lips, making you turn your head. This makes his expression turn sour and you avert your eyes as he pushes up to get off of you.

“Miguel-” 

“I know, I just- it was a lapse in my memory.” He sits up and turns his back as he sits on the edge of the bed, making you balance on your elbows and reach out to him. You quickly retract your hand before you can grab him and you look at the floor. “I’m gonna take a shower.” He mumbles and gets up, leaving you alone in his bedroom as he shuts the door. You sigh in guilt,  seeing him get so upset. 

You’d both agreed not to kiss, that kissing would lead to feelings and feelings would make things messy, which is something you both couldn’t afford. Miguel had a daughter, and this was just to blow off steam for him, while you were busy juggling being a nationally infamous thief when you weren’t trying to pay your rent and working at the restaurant. 

Tugging on your jeans, you heard the shower turn off and quickly jotted down a note. 

‘See ya Sunday.’ and signed with a nude lipstick mark, you left it on his nightstand and pulled on his t-shirt before hopping out of his window onto his fire escape. Climbing down the landings, you heard the clink of your shoes on each ladder step and sagged your shoulders as you thought about Miguel finding that note. It had to be this way, you couldn’t afford to get distracted or attached. What if you started to care about him and he got caught in the crossfire of your ‘nightly activities’? He could get hurt, or killed. Kingpin was a bag guy, he’d definitely find him and use him against you, and Spider-man might try to expose you. You didn’t need the extra headache of being in a relationship, and how would you even explain where you are every night? You can’t exactly say that you’re stealing some of the world's most precious artifacts and coveted items. 

Finally hitting the concrete, you heard someone yell your name and you looked up, seeing Miguel shirtless with wet hair calling after you. He looked angry, like he might come after you, and you just answered his call by blowing him a kiss and turning to walk away. 

Hours later and you were jumping from a window, flying into another building and hiding under a desk as police ran after you down the stairs of the place you were just in. A flash of red and blue made you look to the sky, seeing the mask you dreaded and loved rushing to you. As you flipped out of the way, your heel was caught by a glowing crimson web that jerked you back towards him. 

“Two nights in a row, Gatito. That’s bold, even for you.” 

“Don’t you ever take a damn day off, Spidey?” You retorted and felt his gloved had pulled at your ponytail, yanking your head backwards with a hiss, “Gentle there, bug boy, or else I might like it.” 

“Don’t be crass, I wouldn’t waste my time with a thief with you.” 

“Aw, no need to be so mean, I’m still a person with feelings.” You smiled and twisted around while being held, jumping off the side of the wall and wrapping your legs around his neck and sitting atop his shoulders. “And a flexible one at that.” Flipping to grab the light fixture above you both, you hung upside down from it and forced him to drop your arm in order to not break it. His angered eyes squinting through his mask made you laugh as you blew a small kiss, then making his eyes widen. Spider-man took a step backwards as you jumped to squat on a desk behind you and flip your hair from your face. 

“You-” He started to speak, but you heard a ring coming from your watch and saw the time. 

“Love to chat, but this kitty has places to be, money to acquire.” You added and stretched to open the sky-light on the ceiling and flipping to jump up and out. You balanced on the roof as you looked back down in the hole and caught a glimpse of him standing there, unmoving, which was quite out of character, but you didn’t have time for that. 

Two blocks and a few cop cars later, you arrive at Kingpin’s hideout, greeted with cigar smoke and men dressed in all black. You’re escorted in by a man with an eyebrow piercing and a metal arm who shoves you forward as you walk into the room. 

“Watch it, Captain Hook. I don’t like being shoved.” You hissed and heard a chuckle from a few feet away in a cloud of smoke, making you cough a bit. 

“Down, Kitty. He’s harmless.” 

“So am I, until I’m not.” You answered the large man sitting at the desk, “I have the stuff, so let’s trade and be done with this deal.” You reach into the secret pocket of your suit and pull out the gem with the newest artifact, a piece of paper with coordinates on it. 

“Well, there is one more thing I’ve decided I want, and you’re the only one who can provide it.” He leaned forward and tapped his cigar on a small tray, making your expression sour. 

“We had a deal.” 

“Don’t be so tense, it’s not a hard task. I want you to seduce Spider-man and tell me his identity.” Your whole body froze as you felt a chill run across your skin. 

“You want me to do what?” Your knees suddenly felt wobbly as he smirked and took in a puff of his cigar again. 

“Come on, it’ll be easy. I’ve been watching you and every time you two interact, you both flirt and chat, and he lets you get away. He doesn’t do that with any of his other captures and enemies. You’re different, and I think I know why.” Kingpin leaned back in his chair and raked his eyes over you in a way that made your stomach drop and your throat taste like bile. 

“Please.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes, “I’m a criminal, just like you. He does not see me differently. That would mean he removed that stick he keeps up his ass.” Your arms folded over your chest and Kingpin just shrugged condescendingly. 

“It’s a 2 million dollar bonus.” 

White noise filled your head as you calculated that number. 2 million…? That would mean you could buy a new place and save, you wouldn’t have to steal anymore. No more 3 AM cop chases, no more avoiding dating, and most importantly, no more spider-man. 

“I’ll do it.” You answered, looking him directly in the eyes and feeling confident. “But 2 million isn’t enough for this. I could go to jail if I get too close, he would really catch me if I reveal who he really is. I need your protection. If I get caught, you need to guarantee my bail and freedom, plus 3 million.” You negotiated. 

“Fine fine, pocket change. Now get going.” He waved you off and you walked out of his office, inflated with cockiness. You could flirt your way into Spider-man’s head. 

Meanwhile, Miguel sat in his dining room with his head in his hands. That damn Black Cat had been driving him crazy. He knew that voice, those lips, but he really couldn’t put his finger on it. And when you blew that kiss, it was like he could feel you in his arms. Why couldn’t he figure it out? 

You were just out of his grasp as a knock on the door broke him from his trance, opening to see Gabriela running in. Behind her, Jess stood leaning in the door frame and smiling. 

“Thanks again, Jess. Had an emergency-“ 

“At the restaurant, I know.” She winked and grabbed the door knob, shutting the door behind her while Gabby blabbed about her day, but Miguel couldn’t focus. His head was elsewhere, following a stray kitty he couldn’t capture. 

Sunday was a slow day at the restaurant, and you were on as a bartender again until Miguel came in at 8, so you did your job and served the few groups that came in before his shift. A few men came and sat at your bar for a while as he walked in, complimenting you and asking about your hobbies. You laughed and nodded, answering with short, polite sentences as you wiped down glasses and restocked beers. A shadow behind you made you feel like you were in the dark before you saw Miguel staring down the boys, now quietly sipping their drinks while avoiding eye contact with you. 

You wondered if he said something to them, but he barely even looked at you, so you decided to keep to yourself. 

“Here.” You handed him the bar key and started walking forward, then feeling him tug at your jeans and pull you backwards towards him. 

“We need to talk later.” 

“I figured as much.” You answered and looked into his eyes, seeing the brownish-red swirling and practically intoxicating you. Staring into his eyes was like a poison in itself, making your body weak and your chest tight with desire. 

“No, I mean actually talk.” He restated, making you a bit nervous. Had you finally pushed him away? Maybe he met someone, maybe you two were officially done with your midnight rendezvous, maybe he was sick of your antics, maybe- “Stop panicking.” His voice broke you out of your thoughts and he pulled your chin to look into his eyes again, those addicting eyes. “Relax. It will all be fine.” He answered and let go of you, giving you the reassurance you needed not to break down into a complete anxiety attack. 

Tonight would be a rough talk, sure, but at least you knew he wasn’t upset.

#miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel smut #atsv miguel #angst #miguel o hara #miguel x gn reader

[welcometowhore-rrorville]

𝓢𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓪𝓼 𝓐𝓷𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓵𝓼

Featuring: Freddy Krueger, Jason Voorhees, Brahms Heelshire, Michael Myers, Bubba Sawyer, Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair 

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: mentions of animal death (minor, in Michael’s part), slashers as animals being assholes, just general fun headcanons, no cat or dog because I always see them as cats and dogs and wanted to mix it up

-

Freddy Krueger

Some sort of bird

Probably a Conure that lost his feathers in some sort of fire

Is an asshole

And is smart enough to mock you

Will wake you up by biting your nose

Always escapes his enclosure

Can no longer fly but will manage to get up on counters and on top of your fridge anyway

Has overgrown talons and will use them for violence

Do not bring any company over

Very rarely will calm down and nestle against your chest during movie nights

But then bite you and saunter off

Jason Voorhees

Reticulated Python

Has unique scale markings on his face that resemble a hockey mask

Is huge

And usually lurks in the corner of his massive enclosure under a hide

He’ll come out at night and explore the area, and eventually figures out away to escape and roam around at night

The first time he does this you have a heart attack

He’s a massive snake

And who knows where he’s at right now?

You fear for any rodents that might be lurking

But when you find him he’s slowly but surely slithering across the living room floor, tongue flicking in curiosity

He’s a gentle giant around you

Not a fan of house guests and will actively try to escape his enclosure to scare them off

Will tolerate being picked up by you for short stretches of time

Lucky for him picking up a massive snake is no easy task

He likes to make himself comfortable on your couch and slither on top of your head to rest himself there and stare at the tv

He’s never tried to strike at you and only accidently takes your breath away when he’s trying to adjust himself in your grasp

It’s not his fault his a big boy and also consists of 99% muscle

Brahms Heelshire

Mouse

Has a massive enclosure you put together so he has more than enough space to make himself at home

Doesn’t use his hide and instead climbs in between his hide and the cage wall and nestles himself there

Loves nestling into cramped spaces

Will make random piles of bedding and hide food within them

Only comes out when you’re not home for the first few weeks

Eventually comes out when you have a treat for him

It takes a while for him to become used to you enough for you to pick him up

He’s pretty big for a mouse

and really hairy, with lots of curls all over his furry body

Will wrap his tail around your wrist for balance

Likes to nestle against the back of your neck and the collar of your shirt

Will sit there for hours and watch as you do every day tasks

Just let him down for bathroom breaks

Like everyone else, doesn’t like strangers and will bite them or scratch them if able

Michael Myers

Rat

The most massive rodent you’ve ever seen

Will never stay in his enclosure

Ever

You never see him eat or drink or anything 

He just wanders your house and occasionally gnaws on things

Has massive front teeth and claws

Has various scratches and missing fur patches on his body

Never makes a noise

Will kill any rodent or insect crawling around your house

Just leaves the body there for you to find

Will very rarely lay in your bed, at the very edge, only half asleep

Doesn’t like being touched

Or caged

At this point he owns the place and you just pay rent

Will seriously injure house guests

And anybody who comes near the front door

Has bit you a few times

You still have scars

But you can’t figure out how to get rid of him so he stays

Bubba Sawyer 

Tiger Oscar Cichlid 

He is in a tank by himself after he cannibalized all of your other cichlids

He is massive

And even in the largest tank you could find he has some trouble turning around

Will eat anything and everything dropped into the tank

He’s got some missing scales, especially around his mouth and eyes

He’ll chase your finger if you put it against the glass and move it around

Has jumped out of the tank on multiple occasions even with the lid clipped shut

As soon as he sees his food he splashes out of the water and hits the top of the lid with a loud thump

When you scrub the algae off the tank he’s always right next to you, bumping your hand and arm

Weirdly enough, likes pets

Will keep bumping your arm until you run a hand down his side

You know it’s not good for a fish’s slime coat to do that

But it’s the only way to keep him calm long enough to scrub away the algae

You have to put him in your bathtub when it’s time to deep clean the tank

Refused to get in a bucket

You had to carry him--wet and slimy and flopping around in your arms

Any time you have company he always stares at them and occasionally bumps his head against the lid of the tank

People are mostly scared of the giant fish and don’t come over much

Bo Sinclair

Bearded Dragon

He will not quit head-bobbing at his own reflection in the glass

Very territorial

Has a very pretty scale pattern

Will bite you

Not hard

But you can tell he’s annoyed with you

He doesn’t like being in his tank much

Prefers to hang out on the kitchen counter and bask in the sunlight coming in through the window

It’s not like you can explain he needs the lights in his enclosure to get his vitamin D

Will also sit outside on the porch with you

Only eats worms

He will not bother to eat crickets when he knows you have food that doesn’t run around

You usually throw in a few crickets anyway

Also not a fan of salads 

You have to hand feed him each piece of leafy green or else he will not eat it

He’s spoiled

Will throw fits and knock over stuff in his enclosure until you let him have some outside time

Likes lounging on the couch with you

Also likes when you pet his head

Climbs in your shirt and stays there

Vincent Sinclair

Chameleon

Very big and gangly

Turns some really pretty colors when out in the open

Mainly stays up in the branches in his enclosure, blended into the greenery

You don’t see him often

Likes peace and quiet

Doesn’t like being held or touched

He rarely spends time on the ground of his enclosure, save for when he has to climb down to eat food

You leave the door to his enclosure open sometimes and he pokes his head out to look around before going back inside

He doesn’t do much besides mimic the colors in your room

After a while of having him you’ve managed to get him used to being held for short periods of time

Will nestle in your hair or behind your neck

Do not leave him in an open space with no hiding spots or he will freak

#headcanons #headcanon #pet headcanons #snake #snake mention #rodent mention #reptile mention #exotic animals #pets #slashers #slasher #freddy krueger #jason voorhees #michael myers #bubba sawyer #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #brahms heelshire #mouse #rat #chameleon #x reader #reader #slashers x reader

[clxja16]

The Little Sister

Gifs not mine

Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!Reader

Genre: max verstappen’s sister au!

Warnings: family death, smut, angst, lots of arguing, drama, orphan child

Word Count: 6K+

author’s note: I want to make it abundantly clear, I am in no way a jos apologist, that’s all.

Part two

——————————————

“It’s lights out and away we go,”

You watched them get away, each of the cars speed climbing. Your brother was in one of those cars, going around and around in circles. You always rooted for your brother, he is the reigning world champion. You sat next to your father in the paddock, watching the monitor of the race. Kelly was on the other side of you guys. But unbeknownst to them, there was another driver who had been occupying your mind. Whom you secretly rooted for under your breath. You watched as he and your brother drove side by side into the turns. You watched the red car closely. Almost cheering out loud when he passed your brother. Charles Leclerc, had you turning into a Ferrari fan instead of a Redbull fan.

-

Y/n L/n Verstappen, the baby of the Verstappen kids. However unlike Max and Victoria, you are not the biological child of Jos and Sophie. Just before your sixth birthday, your parents were on a flight to Singapore for business. The plane they were on, never made it to the airport. It has forever remained unclear what exactly happened, but they were presumed dead.

Your parents informally considered Jos and Sophie to be your godparents, so when they found out your parents were ‘dead.’ They immediately took you in, however the technicalities of it took a long time to sort out. And even though Jos and Sophie refused to blame you, you felt that you were the reason for the divorce.

When they did separate, you lived with Victoria, and Sophie. That was always mom, and sister to you. Max and Jos started to come around more again when you were in middle school, and Victoria was just starting to be a teenager. And although Jos, Sophie, Max and Victoria aren’t family, they never made you feel different. Jos and Sophie always treated you like one of their own children, and they are always going to be mom and dad to you. Max and Victoria were the same, you weren’t just a random orphan, but their sister. And they were your older siblings.

Based solely on how you guys act around each other, it seemed as if you guys were actual blood family.

-

After you graduated from high school, you began to stay with Max more. It started with just going to a few of his races, then you began to help out with his scheduling, then you began being his personal assistant. You schedule all of Max’s non Formula 1 commitments, as well as the F1 related ones, you handle his social media content, you do his training schedules, his flying times, you schedule his dates with Kelly. There is basically nothing that Max does, that you don’t know about. And since being his little sister, you also live with Max.

You can’t say you really mind though. You get to travel around the world and see new places all the time, you get pretty good pay, you don’t have to pay rent or utilities, you don’t pay for your traveling and you get random gifts every now and then. Like just the other month, Max had bought you a designer handbag, because he thought you’d enjoy it. So all in all, the arrangement you have, works out marvelously in your favor.

There is just one, teeny tiny downside to all of this. And that would be Max, he can sometimes be just a bit overwhelmingly protective. For example, at the end of last season there was a major party for Max being world Champion. Pierre was getting just a little too friendly that night, after having multiple rounds of drinks, which in turn made Max cut Pierre off for the rest of the night, and Max also gave you a ‘babysitter.’ To, in Max’s words, “shoo away all the bad guys.” Another time, just this season, you were with Max flying over to another race, and Max had invited Daniel Riccardo and Lando Norris for the plane ride. Max felt that Lando was being ‘overly flirty,’ that Max made Lando sit next to Daniel, instead of you, for the rest of the flight.

And just a few weeks back before the summer break, you were at a nightclub. You were drinking and dancing, granted dancing very provocatively, but safely nonetheless, and Max dragged you out the club and back home. You genuinely think that the reason you haven’t had a serious relationship is because of Max. But you know he means well, and he really hasn’t crossed the line. It is just frustrating sometimes. You still love your brother, and even with his over protectiveness, you still feel like you’re living your best life.

-

Then there was Charles, the Monegasque driver for Scuderia Ferrari, was someone you’ve only recently been more acquainted with. You have known Charles since before his time in Formula One, you have known Charles for about as long as Max has known Charles. But just like Max and Charles’ relationship, you guys didn’t see each other much outside of race weekends. Charles was never considered to be one of Max’s close friends, so Charles didn’t come around much, like Lando or Daniel.

It wasn’t until this year's Australian Grand Prix, did you start becoming closer to Charles. When the race ended on Sunday, Max went with Danny to go visit his family. You told Max that you were just gonna go get dinner Pierre, then head back to the hotel. Unbeknownst to you and Max, Pierre had more planned for the night.

You ended up like 4 shots deep in the middle of a club, celebrating Charles’ first grand slam. And the next morning, you woke up in Charles’ hotel room, with nothing but a bright red Ferrari shirt.

Since then you and Charles had started sneaking around, visiting each other’s hotel rooms during race weekend, casually bumping into each other to walk the paddock together. What started out as a little fun, turned to be something a lot more serious before your eyes. Before you even knew it, you were smiling at all of his text, dying to get home to tell him everything that happened in your day, silently hoping that he would pass Max on the track to win. Charles had completely taken over your mind.

-

You laid in Charles’ bed once again, “I have to go home,” you whispered ever so softly, for Charles to hear.

“You don’t have to,” Charles looked down at you in his arms, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I promised Max I would be home for dinner,” you began to wiggle your way out of Charles’ grasp. Charles let you go, his fingers running down your bare arms. You began to go around the room picking up the discarded clothing. After a second or so of watching you, Charles got out of bed, pulling on an abandoned pair of shorts.

“Mon chérie,” Charles spoke softly, “stay for the night.” Charles wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. Softly pressing light kisses down your neck.

“Maybe another night,” you offered, turning back around to face Charles.

“Fine,” Charles gave in, letting you go, but just before you could make it to the door, Charles pulled you back into his embrace. Pressing his lips against yours, “I’m gonna miss you,” he whispered against your lips.

“I won’t be gone long,” you smiled.

-

You sat at the dinner table with Max, Kelly, and Penelope. Kelly had cooked chicken parmigiana tonight. The meal was lovely, Penelope was telling everyone about her day.

“Y/n, where were you today?” Max asked, his question cutting clear across the table.

“Just out, had some lunch with friends, ran a few errands.” You answered as you cut the chicken, “did you need me today?”

“No,” Max answered, looking at you a little suspiciously.

“Maxie leave her alone, she's an adult now,” Kelly came to your defense. Kelly is the only person that you told about your situation with Charles, when she accidentally saw a very flirty text from Charles. Kelly knew exactly where you were this afternoon, and exactly who you were doing.

“I just wanted to know, that’s all.” Max huffed out stuffing another piece of chicken in his mouth.

You mouthed a ‘thank you’ to Kelly when Max wasn’t paying attention. To which she just smiled at you. After dinner you spent the rest of your night on the phone with Charles, being slightly careful not to speak too loudly for Max to hear.

-

Summer break was coming to end, and that means Max’s schedule was getting increasingly more busy, which in turn means your schedule was more busy now. Training hours, interviews, FIA meetings, drivers debriefing, Redbull strategy meetings, and many many more.

“What’s next?” Max asked, as you guys were finishing up another interview.

“You have training, then dinner with Checo and Horner.”

“Dinner? For what?”

“I’m not entirely sure, Horner just said that he needed to schedule a dinner with you and Checo as soon as possible,” you answered.

“What are you doing for the rest of tonight?” Max asked.

“I am gonna finish going through your emails, then finalize tomorrow’s schedule, and reconfirm with the airport about take off time for tomorrow’s flight. By the way, it's an afternoon flight, so we’re having dinner in Belgium. After I do all of that, then I might get dinner with a friend.” You finished off, “is that alright with you Father?” You asked in your most sarcastic tone.

“Haha very funny, I just wanna know what my baby sister is doing,” Max responded as the two of you made it to the car about to head home. Max dropped you off at home, before leaving for the gym.

You went inside and watched Max driving away before texting Kelly, and heading out to Charles’ place.

-

That night you sat on Charles’ bed, on your laptop going through Max's emails, just like you told Max you would.

“Mon Cherie,” Charles came up behind you, pressing those soft kisses to your neck that you loved, “what are you doing?”

“My job,” you quipped back.

“Shouldn’t Max be doing this himself?”

“I get paid to do this for him, the least I can do, is do it in a timely manner,” you responded.

“You’re supposed to be spending time with me, before you need to go back home.” Charles turned your face to look at him.

“Last email, I promise, and then I’m all yours,” you answered, turning back to your screen, to finish typing up your response. You heard Charles let out this most exaggerated sigh you could ever hear. You couldn’t help but giggle as you pressed send. “Okay, I’m done now. All yours.”

“Finally,” Charles said, as he pulled you into his arms.

After that, you and Charles just cuddled in bed while a movie played in the background and the two of you talked about your days. It was moments like these that made you question your entire situation, relationship, with Charles. You and Charles have been officially messing around since April, but it was now September. You guys were clearly more close than other friends with benefits, but Charles never once asked you to make it official. However, he wants you over his place all the time, he has a drawer for you at his place, he acts like he wants more, he just hasn’t said it.

You want to ask what you guys are, but at the same time, you were the one that said friends with benefits. Not to mention you’re the one that refuses to tell your brother about your situation with Charles. All in all you don’t have a right to judge or demand answers from Charles when you’re not entirely sure what you want. This was much easier when you didn’t hang around Charles’ place after fucking, or when you didn’t have a drawer at his place, or when Charles didn’t cook you meals just because, or when coming over meant literally one thing. Now things are just messy.

-

“Shit,” you woke up in Charles’ arms in a panic, your fairly loud cruse, causing Charles to wake as well.

“What?”

“I should’ve been home last night,” you began to gather your things, trying to rack your brain for an excuse to tell your brother.

Charles sighed loudly, “I don’t understand what the big deal is, if you just tell him y/n.”

You paused, not entirely sure why you’re so hesitant to tell Max about Charles, “it’ll be too awkward to tell Max, it’s just not a good idea.”

“So you enjoy having to do this, having to lie to your brother constantly y/n?” Charles asked, now standing in front of you.

“Charles, can we please not argue right now?” You wouldn’t say it in this moment, but Charles wasn’t the most important person to you right now. Reassuring Charles wasn’t important right now, getting back home was.

“I don’t wanna argue mon cherie,” Charles sighed, if there was anything Charles hated more than watching you leave, it was arguing with you, “but this is getting out of hand.”

“We’ll work something out, but I really need to go,” you pecked Charles’ cheek before walking out.

You raked your brain the entire ride home, trying to come up with any type of excuse that would satisfy Max. And when you finally got to the apartment, you noticed only Kelly was in the living room area. You took a breath of relief.

“Where the hell have you been?” Kelly whispered to you, “hurry up and get in your room before he gets out.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered as you rushed into your bedroom, silently shutting the door behind you.

You changed into some pajamas, wiped off whatever leftover makeup you had on, and rolled around your bed to look like you slept in your own bed last night. When you felt satisfied with your cover up, did you hear your name being called loudly.

You walked out of your room, to see Max standing there, with Kelly by his side.

“What time did you get home last night?” Max asked, his arms crossed and his face stern.

“Why so serious, Maxie?” You asked with a playful smile, “I’m not really sure but it was late.” You answered as you walked past Max into the Kitchen for a cup of coffee.

You could hear Max sigh, “I just wanna make sure you’re being safe.” You don’t remember much from before your parents died, and the right after is mostly a blur, but there’s key moments that stand out. Like the first time you went back to school since the funeral, and almost all the other kids thought that a little girl with dead parents was the most hilarious thing to ever happen. Max found out that you were getting picked on, and decided to take matters into his own hands, he almost got expelled from school that day.

“I promise I’m being safe Max, I’m not a little kid anymore,” you turned back to look at your brother. He was always going above and beyond to protect you from the world. Not that you knew, but Max always felt that you had too much hurt in this lifetime already.

“You’re still my baby sister.”

-

That night after dinner, Max walked you to your hotel room, like he did for every race weekend. Luckily for you, Max wasn’t too focused on you, his mind already on Sunday. You watched him walk back down the hall, towards the elevators going back to his own room. As soon as you were satisfied, you texted Charles you’re room number.

You slipped out of the clothes you were wearing, deciding to jump into the shower before Charles came over. When you finished you dawned a lacy red lingerie set. Just as you finished, fixing your makeup to look done up for Charles you heard a knock on the door. Peeping through the peephole, to see Charles there standing, wearing a hoodie and a pair of shorts.

You hated when he dressed overly simple, but had your cheeks flushing. You hated that it didn’t take much from him to get you swooning. You hated that he had you wrapped around his finger, and you hated that he had done it effortlessly. You hated that he really pulled you without even trying.

You opened the door for Charles, wearing nothing but that exact lingerie set.

“Cherie, mon Cherie,” Charles started off taking all of you in, he then pulled at your waist, to bring you to him, looking up at you now, “you really are something else.”

“I hope a good something else,” you said, batting your lashes at Charles.

“The best, something else,” Charles answered, pressing his lips against yours. He walked towards the bed, pushing you along, while making out the entire time. When you felt the back of your knees hit the bed, you fell against it, now looking up at Charles.

His eyes, looking you up and down, as he pulled off his hoodie, while simultaneously sliding off his shorts. Leaving him in nothing but his boxers. He left kisses up your body, starting at your ankles. Going to your knees, then your hips, avoiding the place where you wanted him most. Kissing your waist, and stomach, carefully leaving kisses on each of your breasts. Going up to your collarbones, then your neck, and across your jaw. Passing your lips and going to your nose, each of your eye lids and your forehead lastly. The act started out very sensual, but ended up being charming.

You could feel the fire in your cheeks, and as you looked up at him with the most smitten smile your face had ever adorned. “You are so beautiful,” Charles whispered, almost like he was talking to himself.

Charles pulled you into another kiss, he was taking his time. Charles was not the most patient man on Earth. He often rushed into bed with you, but this time was very different. He was being gentle and slow, he was taking his time.

You felt his fingers slide into your panties. His touches felt light, almost like he wasn’t even touching you. He pulled your panties off, and instead of tossing them to the other side of the room, like he would normally do. He just slid it off you, and dropped it on the floor, not paying any attention to that, and keeping his eyes solely locked on you. His fingers found their way through your folds. Gently rubbing soft circles on your clit, as he placed soft kisses to the area.

Charles began slowly bringing you to your high, soft licks, gentle ease of his fingers sliding in and out. You tugged at his hair, trying your hardest not to move. Charles enjoyed forcing you to stay put, he enjoyed having to hold you down to bring you to your orgasm. He enjoyed it so much, that he had hoped you would buck your hips towards his face any moment now. However you showed great restraint in remaining still, so much restraint that he ought to be proud.

Charles slowly started to go faster, now pumping his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace. Bringing you to your orgasm faster than you initially realized. Charles then started kissing his way up to your lips. You lifted your leg to hook around Charles waist, as he deepened the kiss further.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Charles spoke softly against your lips.

“Charles,” was all you managed to whisper.

Charles continued to kiss you, as he pulled off his boxer, slipping inside of you. Your eyes went wide feeling the stretch, melting further into the bed and into the kiss. When Charles finally pulled away from the kiss, you felt so full, almost loopy in the head. He loved you like this, drunk on his cock.

“Cherie,” he called softly, he pulled your face to look at him. When you met his eyes, did he start to pull out, and slowly glide back in. He watched your face carefully with every movement he made. As he continued to move in and out, slowly.

Finally when you whispered a meek, “faster,” did he start to pick up the pace. Charles knew all the spots to hit that had you seeing stars. Again you repeated “faster,” not feeling completely satisfied. And you saw Charles smirk just a little, before going even faster.

He then grabbed your leg that was around his waist, moving your ankle to his shoulder. He pressed little kisses into your calf, as he continued to pound into you. You felt little tears roll down your cheeks, as the pleasure completely washed over you.

Charles loved the sight of you completely fucked out, as you came down from your high. He grabbed your phone that was tossed aside, as he wrapped his other hand around your throat. Your head tilted to the side a little, a love drunk smile on your face, with your post-orgasm eyes. It was this moment that Charles snapped a photo of.

You felt your eyelids get heavy, you almost fell asleep, until you felt Charles start to move again. That’s when you knew, only you came so far.

-

The next morning, you woke up in bed alone. Charles had written you a note that he left on the nightstand. It read;

Have to get back to my room, before getting down to the paddock. I’ll see you there, mon cherie.

Xoxo,

C. L.

P.s I hope you wear red for me today.

You couldn’t help but blush at the note that Charles left. You rolled out of bed and were heading to the shower, when you heard a knock on your door. Thinking Charles might have forgotten something, you went to the door, still with only the bed sheet wrapped around you. You looked through the peephole, just in case, to see Max on the other side. You thanked god, that you double checked before opening the door.

“One sec,” you shouted out, as you rushed to the closet, pulling on the complimentary robe. You threw the sheet back onto the bed, and pull on a pair of panties while simultaneously kicking your bra from last night under the bed.

You opened the door to your brother, “yes?” You asked, trying not to look somewhat normal.

“Did you just wake up?” Max asked, “you know what it doesn’t matter, we need to go, I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

“I’ll be down in like 20 minutes.”

“Just hurry up, I don’t want you arriving at the paddock by yourself.” Max said, as he was walking away already. You finally closed the door, and took a breath of relief. You quickly rinsed off in the shower, before finding an outfit to wear and doing some light makeup. You wore the standard Redbull shirt, but you wore a red scrunchie in your hair for Charles.

-

That night when free practice was over, Max stayed in the paddock with the team, working on the strategy for tomorrow’s qualifying and Sunday’s race. Charles was doing the same with his own team, that left you alone initially for the evening. Until Kelly found you, and told you to come along to dinner with some of the other WAGs of the paddock.

So now, you sat at dinner with Luisa, Lando’s girlfriend, Carmen, George’s girlfriend, Lily, Alex’s girlfriend, and Kelly. Dinner was going just fine, until Kelly asked, if you were seeing anybody new. Even though she fully knows your situation at the moment.

“I mean, it’s complicated at the moment,” you answered, gritting your teeth.

“Is it a driver?” Luisa asked,

“I don’t imagine Max being happy if it is a fellow driver,” Carmen adds in.

“Alex has his suspicions, as do I,” Lily said, eyeing you up and down.

“Does everyone know something I don’t?” You asked as you looked around at the girls.

“Y/n, have you not been paying attention to the gossip,” Luisa asked, almost shocked.

“What gossip?”

“Rumors are going around that, ‘reigning world champion, Max Verstappen’s baby sister, y/n Verstappen, is seeing a fellow F1 driver.’” Carmen quoted from an article that was recently posted online.

“Shut up, that’s not an actual article is it?” You asked slightly, panicked.

“It’s an article alright, so tell us is there someone you’re seeing that’s a driver?” Lily asked, you could see the smiles on all the girls. They truly meant no harm tonight, they just wanted to know what was going on. They wanted to know, because it was interesting, nothing more than that. If you were them, you would be doing the exact same thing.

You sighed a little, and giggled, “it’s complicated right now and I don’t even know how he feels about this, I can’t say anything.” There was no one to blame but yourself for being in this situation.

All the girls slightly groaned and laughed. They were very respectful about not pressuring you to give up a name, but they did want to know more. And you obliged, trying to tell them as much as possible without giving away Charles’ identity.

That night when you walked back to the room, just you and Kelly now. You looked over at Kelly, “heads up next time.”

“Y/n, come on now, we both know you’re more serious about Charles than you want to be. You need to tell Max already,” Kelly looked at you seriously.

“I know that but it’s not..”

“It’s not what, y/n?” Kelly cut you off, “you spend more time at Charles place than at home anymore, this has been going on since April. At first I thought this was only during race weekends, only a little fun, but every weekend, every opportunity you get, you’re with Charles.” Kelly took a breath, “I understand that you’re afraid of what Max is gonna think, but he knows something is going on.”

“What do you mean he knows?”

“He knows there’s someone new in your life, he doesn’t know it’s Charles, but he knows.” Kelly could see the gears in your head turning, unsure what to do anymore, “why are you so afraid of what Max thinks?”

“I don’t know,” Kelly looked at you, like she didn’t believe you, “I really don’t know. Max has always made it clear, to me and Victoria both, that we weren’t allowed to date his friends. I feel like I went against him.”

“He’s not gonna be as upset as you think, tell him soon.” Kelly left you with that last statement.

-

You despised having to tell Max anything. But you knew you needed to do it. You wanted to tell Max before you talked to Charles about what your guys' relationship is. However you knew that telling Max during a race weekend wasn’t exactly ideal, so you figured you tell him after Sunday.

Then Max won in Spa, and you couldn’t possibly ruin his win in Spa, by telling him about Charles. And you needed to be there for Charles, this return after summer break wasn’t exactly how he planned for it to go. You couldn’t make this time difficult for Charles by asking him to think about your relationship before preparing for Zandvoort.

Then it was race weekend again, and it’s just not good to tell Max when he has other things to focus on. And your mom and sister were here to watch the race too, you didn’t want to cause a family fight during an important race.

So you didn’t mention it, and as you worked in the Redbull hospitality room, Kelly came up to you, and you knew what she was gonna say.

“I thought…”

“I know,” you cut Kelly off, “I’m gonna tell Max, soon just after the race on Sunday.”

“You better do it soon y/n,” Kelly said, “I love you, and when I found out about you and Charles, I was so happy for you because you looked so happy, but this is insane already. You and Charles should be going on dates in public, should be posting pictures together, should be a normal couple by now.”

“I don’t…” you took a deep breath, “I don’t know if Charles even wants that.”

“Do you want it?”

“Honestly,” you smiled to yourself, thinking about you and Charles, “I do. I really like him.”

Kelly smiled, “Tell Max, so you can tell Charles already.”

-

Saturday night, just after qualifying, Charles was laying in your bed once again. He said he wanted to see you before tomorrow. Even though Charles was right next to you in the room, he was far beyond your reach.

“Where are you, Charles?” You asked, as you laid cuddle up next to him.

“I don’t think I’m gonna win it this year,” Charles said.

“The season isn’t over yet.”

“I don’t even know if the team wants me to win,” Charles sighed, “maybe I’m not meant to be champion.” One thing you loved about Charles, he always took responsibility for his actions. One thing you hated about Charles, he took responsibility for everything, even if it wasn’t his doing.

“You will fight again next season, and the season after that, you will be champion, one day,” you spoke truthfully. Everyone knew it, everyone knew that Charles has the talent to be world champion. Even Max knew it, one day Charles would be champion.

“You think so?” Charles looked at you and smiled.

“I know it,” you smiled back, looking into Charles' eyes. His eyes were so filled with love, it almost made you sick.

-

“I meant to do it, I really did, but I got distracted,” you spoke to Kelly.

“Y/n, there’s too many rumors going around. Max is going to find out one way or another. You need to be the one to tell him, if not it’s gonna make everything worse.” Kelly scolded you, and you knew she was right. “It was different when no one noticed, but everyone is catching on already.”

Now or never.

-

You meant to tell Max, you really did, you were gonna do it before dinner. Privately, but tonight nonetheless, the family was getting together to celebrate Max’s victory. Then Max got called into an emergency meeting by the FIA, along with all the other drivers. And you being the great little sister you are, was waiting for Max at the hotel, before going back to the family house for dinner.

However the meeting changed everything. While at the meeting, the drivers were waiting for the directors to show up, no one knew exactly why they were being called in tonight. Charles was sitting next to Lando and George talking about the race. That is when Charles got a text from you.

Your contact in Charles’ phone being, ‘mon cherie <3,’ this peaked Lando’s interest.

“Who’s that Charles?” Lando asked eyeing Charles up, while George looked just the same.

“Pierre,” George called over, knowing that if anyone knew anything about Charles’ love life, it was Pierre, “who is Charles seeing right now?”

“No one,” Pierre said confusedly, and at that moment, Lando snatched the phone out of Charles' hand running away. He then tossed it to Carlos.

“Who is it Charles?” Lando asked after the toss.

“No one you know,” Charles answered as he rushed towards Carlos.

Carlos tossed the phone to George, “who is who?”

“No one,” Charles ran across the room to George.

George then tried to glimpse at a photo in the message, but ultimately tossed it towards Pierre, who was standing in front of the door now, “come on mate tell us.”

Pierre got the phone, looking at the photo that was open, his face turning pale when he realized who it was, “mate, no,” was all Pierre could manage to say. However before Charles could snatch the phone out of Pierre’s hand, in walked Max and Daniel.

It didn’t take long for Max to notice, a half naked picture of you with Charles hand wrapped around your throat, on the screen. “Gasly…” Max started off.

Pierre interrupted, saying, “it’s Charles’ phone,” before tossing the phone to Charles.

“Why is my sister on your phone, Leclerc?” If cartoons were real, there would be steam coming out of Max’s ears.

“Mate, I can explain,” Charles started off, as he slid the phone back into his pocket.

“You’re fucking my baby sister?” Max’s voice boomed throughout the room, “she’s a damn child Charles.”

“Come on mate, she’s twenty, two, zero. Four years, four years between us, how is she a child?”

“I know you Charles, you’re not the type to settle down, what are you gonna do, leave her when the season gets too tough.”

“Excuse me, are you suggesting that I’m just gonna bail on her as soon as life gets difficult?”

“That’s what you did to Giada, and that’s what you did to Charlotte.”

“Mate, that’s unfair to throw that in my face, when you know that’s not what happened.” Charles stood his ground, so angry with you for putting him in this situation, angry with Lando, George and Pierre for causing this. Angry at Max for throwing his past relationships in his face like that.

“You’re using my sister, and when you’re done, you’re gonna break her heart.” Max took a step closer towards Charles, “and when you do, I’m gonna put you into the ground.” Max was also angry. Angry that you deliberately avoided telling him the truth. Angry that you decided Charles was the best person to mess around with. Angry that Charles didn’t man up and tell him when this started. Angry that you went behind his back to date a driver. Max was so angry that he threw whatever he could at Charles, even if it wasn’t fair.

-

You sat in your hotel room, waiting for Max’s call about the meeting being over and you guys could go home. Instead you got a call from Charles.

“Hey,” you answered sweetly, happy to hear Charles voice.

“Y/n,” Charles tone sounded sad, maybe tired, definitely not his normal.

“What’s wrong?”

“Max knows, he saw a picture on my phone.”

“What do you mean he saw a picture?” Your own tone started to get defensive, “Charles what the hell happened? I told you I would tell him and then you go ahead and start pulling stunts to let Max know.”

“Are you seriously suggesting that I did this on purpose y/n?” Charles’ own tone getting more defensive.

“How else did he see a picture on your phone unless you showed him?”

“If you would listen for a second, Pierre had my phone, it was weird circumstances. If you would’ve just told Max in the first place none of this would be a problem right now.”

“Are you trying to suggest that I’m at fault right now?” You asked, getting more defensive and riled up right now.

“You are at fault, you should’ve just told Max from the beginning.”

“And what’s your excuse? You had many opportunities to tell Max, I never told you to not say anything, you made that decision on your own.”

“I would’ve told him, but you said this was just sex.”

“You’re the one that made this more complicated than just sex Charles.”

“You could’ve ended it whenever it got too complicated for you y/n,” Charles sighed out. Both of you guys could see where this was going, even if that’s not what either you wanted.

“Fine, this, whatever it was, it’s done.”

“Fine,” Charles responded, before hanging up. You wanted to scream, to cry, to yell at the world, to rip your heart from your chest. You cursed yourself for being in this situation, for loving Charles, for not telling Max in the beginning, for being so scared.

Before you could do anything you wanted, you heard a knock at your door. You went to look through the peephole and there was Max, red in the face. You laughed a little at yourself for being stupid enough to be in this position. You opened the door, letting Max in.

“Charles, Charles Lecler. That’s who you chose to go after,” Max started off, his tone already angry.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” you responded more monotone than you expected.

“You deliberately lied to me multiple times. I have made it abundantly clear to you and Victoria, to not go after a fellow driver. And you completely disregarded that. Charles is just using you for sex and you think he loves you. You think he cares about you. You don’t matter to him, he’s gonna continue to use you until he’s had his fun and then he’s gonna leave you just like he did to all the girls before you,” Max said. His words laced with a stinging venom that you despised. He brought you to tears faster than you wanted to, and he made your blood boil for suggesting those things about Charles.

“I don’t understand why you care so much, this is my life and I ought to live it how I see fit.” Your tone was more cruel than Max’s, you had never been so angry in your life until this moment. “You continuously treat me like I am a child, it’s because of you that none of the boys in school asked me or Victoria out, it’s because of you that me and Victoria have never been in a serious relationship, it’s because of you. And your continuous act of being my father, when you’re not. You’re not even my real brother.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you wanted to take them back. You wanted to rewind in time, and stop yourself from ever opening your mouth. You wanted to go back to before the meeting to tell Max before this all happened. You wanted to go back to when Kelly told you to tell Max. You wanted to go back to when Charles asked how much more lying. You wanted to go back to Australia, and stop yourself from taking that last shot.

“Max, I didn’t…”

“I see, if that’s how you feel.” Max spoke, as he walked out of the room.

Part two

#first #five #tags #don’t #work #charles leclerc smut #formula 1 #max verstappen #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 smut #formula 1 au #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 angst