#hes so pure and so good and just wants to help

[screampied]

can you please please write manhandling & squirting w gojo :(

❤︎ ໋𓈒 telling your best friend satoru that you can’t make yourself squirt

warnings. fem! reader, manhandling, praise, fingering, talking you through it, rev cowgirl, dirty talk, squírting, mdni.

legs sprawled, toes all curled up, you were desperately trying to make yourself squirt. it’s never happened to you and you wanted to experience what it was like—you read through various erotic stories of how it feels way different than just your everyday ordinary orgasm. with your teeth softly digging against your bottom lip, your fingers gently rummage throughout and against your clit. after a while though, you end up sighing—on the verge of giving up before as if on literal cue, your best friend gojo opens the door.

“hey, is it any more . . oh! uh,” he’d murmur, walking in on you with your legs sprawled all open. gojo suppresses a giggle that was about to escape from his lips before he utters. “. . . should i come back another time? you seem busy.”

there was smugness dripping underneath his tone and you were far too aroused to feel embarrassed. “no,” you puff. “i need help, satoru.”

“yeahh you seem like it,” he snickers. running a hand through his hair, he hums to himself before his eyes avert towards your lazily slid to the side panties. “is that what you call fingering yourself?”

“. . . shut up,” you chastise, and his sly smirk only widens. gojo stares at you for a long while before inching closer towards you—plopping down beside you. the mattress jolts a bit from his weight and he cocks his head to the left in pure amusement. “i need help. i can’t … i can’t squirt.”

gojo sneers. “oh, you sure can. you just don’t know what the fuck you’re doing, angel, heh.”

he had such a smart mouth, the dramatically frustrated sigh that deserts past your lips was too adorable—in his eyes at least.

the way you were so dedicated to making yourself have a proper finish was so cute . . but you couldn’t, you needed his help—you wanted his help.

“hm but okay,” he shrugs with a cheeky grin, getting right beside you. gojo lightly grabs your wrist, peering at how you’d already soak two of your digits with sloppy amounts of slick before he titters. “aw, poor thing. these useless fingers just can’t do shit, huh?”

“just fucking help me.” you grouse at him, a pouty scowl ceasing against your lips firmly.

“fine, girl fine,” he rolls his eyes. “i’ll take it from here.”

and he does because once he starts to ‘help’ you, it’s in a way that has you merely speechless.

with your neck slightly whirling towards the left, you’re mindlessly bouncing up at down on his thick cock. you’re faced the opposite way, your back leans up against his chest. gojo holds you up with no problem, a brief squeeze on your thighs and you start to whimper at how close his fat tip thwacks against a particularly sensitive spot.

“f— fuckk, ‘toru,” you’d whimper out, feeling him reach the deep components inside of you.

so deliciously good, you felt a few droplets of your own saliva trickle past your lips as you slump back against him. “so deep, stuffin’ me f— full, ‘toru.”

“. . . hah,” he pants heavily, tensed abs flexing each time he drags you up and down. he’s treating you like a rag doll. you didn’t expect him to do all this, having you all up and down. although, who were you to complain—he was reaching every spot without an ounce of trouble. “guess i can reach better than those fingers ever could, hm angel?”

“y—yes, yesss,” you stammer, your voice all shaky, trembling on each syllable that you spat out. “satoru, harder. fuck me, f—fuckkk me.”

you repeat the same words out your spit-glossed lips. with such a firm grip, he’s making your hips slam up and down—such a rigorous rhythm…

you try to grind a bit against him but you only end up slouching against his bare chest. it was simply no secret, gojo was known to be lengthy, longer than thick when it came to his cock. every orifice, he makes sure to locate every spot inside of your gummy walls with the crown of his shaft.

gush after gush, you’re spasming on him and you make a cute attempt at grabbing his wrist, clammy hands piercing into his skin. “s-so good, more ‘toru. right there, pleaseee . . !”

“i got ya.” he huffs, warm breaths waft right up against your earlobe. he’s holding you in place, each time he bounces you up again and again.

your eyes do that cute thing where it rolls all the way back into your cranium. it’s cute, lewd . . but cute.

with your pretty pupils dilated, all you see is nothing but pure splotches of white. his cock’s buried so deep that you’re stuck in a trance, a trance you never wanted to escape from.

“. . . awww,” he purrs against your ear, a big hand softly cupping your chin. he feels some of your translucent spit pour down the sides of your lips before smearing it over your mouth with his thumb. “such a messy baby. you feel it comin’ don’t you?” he teases, nipping a kiss near your neck once you squeeze his wrist a tad bit tighter. “oh. you want me to hold your hand, is that it?”

“sato—ru,” you whine, a cute trembly voice making a special appearance.

but oh, the stretch…

it was so good simply divine.

each second is spent with gojo’s dick delving into your clenched walls. a syrupy ear ringing whimper snatches right out of your throat before you speak once more, “satoru, ‘toru, s—satoru.”

“hey, that’s me,” he grunts with a coy grin, feeling how well you clamp down on him—of course, he’d make a joke out of nearly anything. you’re like a bobbling doll, feeling your cunt squeeze him tight before within seconds, your thighs began to quaver.

with your legs quavering, it was as if a volcano was preparing to erupt. violently, your legs start to tense and you’re steadily pulsing and pulsing. something’s coming and it’s coming fast…

it had to be exactly what you were thinking. it felt a bit different though. pressure presses down against you and you feel gojo’s fingers intertwine with yours. “heh, you’re kinda dramatic, huh?” he teases—and right before he can give you another snarky reply, he brings your hips to an abrupt halt. teeth chomping down together, your jaw insignificantly tightens and you feel a certain sharp twinge for at least three and a half seconds.

“i- i’m about to s-squirt, ‘toru,” you warn him, and he nips another chaste kiss near the crook of your neck.

“nuh uh. you’re going to squirt, trust me. give it to me, yeah. grind against me ‘n just listen to my voice, mhm.”

his voice.. just the way he spoke to you in such a playfully deep tone was enough to make you finish on the spot.

gojo holds you still. he’s still buried deep inside. stuffing you fill of hefty inches before he brings a hand towards your swollen puffy entrance. “damn, she really is so fuckin’ sloppy,” he grunts, starting to maneuver slow circles against your pussy. he makes haste with it though, and your lips part before moaning once you even hear the evidence yourself.

squelch, squelch, squelch..

it’s loud, it rings throughout your ears—each time, it’s louder than the next. he’s so sloppy with it too, no shame whatsoever. gojo then drags a soft thumb down your slit that was just sopping. everything felt so fervent - the way he’d strum his fingers against your cunt, only to then give it a concise spank.

“s-satoru, fuckkk.” you’d gasp, leaning way back with your legs still sprawled, “i—”

“now—don’t be rude, angel. she’s tryna speak to me, let her do her thing, baby,” and he clearly referring to your dripping wet pussy. he continues, rubbing against your clit at a much more rapid speed now. your legs could barely hold themselves open. mouth twitching, you feel a rupture on the very brink of rippling out of you before his spanks against your pussy come again, and again, and again…

“sloppy girl with a sloppy … fuckin’ … cunt.”

his words get more raspy and degrading and he’s way too into it to pause. with a thumb slowly tickling against your spasming nub, he watches at you moan a shrieking whine before not even seconds later, it happens. you gush out, and it’s a lot to where you even dampen gojo’s lap. thankfully he was prepared, keeping a towel underneath you just in case you were a bit too much of a soaked.

and soaked you were, it felt so good that you didn’t even know what to say… more like, you didn’t know what to think.

your mind was blank, equivalent to an empty canvas. he’s so mean, whispering such filthy murmurs into your ear before he lets you ride out your orgasm.

wet, you felt that entire word right between your legs. gojo’s still playing with you, cock stuffing your pussy full to the very brim before he feels you bare around him.

“. . seeeee,” he pants, humming in a soft tune.

he squeezes your folds tighter just to hear that honeyed mewl rip from your sweet lips. he gradually pulls out and now you’re just laying back against his chest with the dumbest expression. “told ya you didn’t know what the fuck you were doing,” he chaffs before making you turn your neck, dragging you into a deep kiss.

it catches you by surprise, you connect your lips against his and that’s when he makes you fall back. you watch with glossy eyes before he then grabs ahold of chin with one hand, brushing it tenderly against your skin. “say ah, open that pretty mouth for me ‘n taste what a messy girl you are.”

you felt your heartbeat go straight between your legs. once you loll out your tongue for him, staring right into his bright cerulean irises, he stuffs your mouth with two fingers. the same fingers that were covered in nothing but your sweet wet arousal. “yeah, run that tongue around my fingers ‘n taste it all, baby.”

you moan, swirling your tongue alongside his digits before you briefly end up gagging at the tips of his fingers massaging against the very back part of your throat.

“good girl,” he whispers—pulling his fingers out real slowly, he does this purposeful. a sheeny trail of your glistening saliva follows out from your lips before he gives you another long kiss before departing. “now, let’s do it again. but this time,” he utters, making you lie back against your back. “i’ll make you squirt just from my tongue, angel. let’s make that cute squirt velocity a little stronger, hm?”

#★vegasbaby. #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #anime smut #female reader #jjk drabbles #jjk imagines

[yuukiiqwq]

Satoru was confident that you liked him back. He was positive. He had no doubt in his mind that you were going to be his pretty little wife. Is he getting ahead of himself? Sure, he is, but he's that confident. That's until he noticed how he hadn't received any chocolate from you.

It was Valentine's Day, and he still hasn't received any chocolate from you. Yeah, he had a mountain worth of chocolate from all those people who gave him it, but where was yours? He couldn't find it anywhere. He was sure that would have placed your chocolate on his desk since you hadn't given him his. He double no triple checked all the chocolates, yet he could not find the one that has your pretty little name written on it. He continued to search through the chocolate pile for the fourth time today.

He must have missed it, right? Or did someone steal it? He swear he's going to hunt that person to the end of the Earth. Who dared to steal something that was rightfully his?

"Satoru, calm down."

He looked up at his best friend, who was trying to hold down a laugh at his panic.

"She'll probably give it to you later. The day just begun."

Right. Suguru is right. You'll give him his chocolate later. He's a good boy. He can wait.

That's what he told himself, but Suguru and Shoko have already received theirs this morning, and his is still nowhere to be found. Where is his chocolate? You're just sitting there in your seat, looking all pretty as if Satoru is not going through a huge dilemma because of you.

He couldn't help his hands that kept inching itself closer to the chocolate you gave Suguru. He wouldn't know if he snatched it, right? Suguru had received a lot of chocolate! He wouldn't know if he took it... was what he convinced himself before Suguru slapped his hand away.

"Satoru," he sighs.

"But Suguru!!!" Satoru whined as he sunk down into his seat.

"Be patient. You'll get yours soon."

But how soon is soon? Satoru isn't exactly known for his patient.

It was the end of the day, and still no chocolate from you. He asked Suguru and Shoko to leave first because he thought you would finally give it to him when both of you were alone. But you haven't. Where was his chocolate?

The two of you were approaching the exit of school, so Satoru made a quick decision, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into an empty classroom. He quickly shut the door and locked it.

"Satoru?" You asked in confusion. "What's wrong?"

"My chocolate."

"Your chocolate?"

"My chocolate from you! The symbol of your love towards me!"

"I didn't make you any," you replied smoothly. "Forgot to make them yesterday, so I woke up early today to make them, but I guess not early enough. I only had time to finish Shoko's and Suguru's. I didn't have time to make yours. Otherwise, I would have been late."

Satoru swear the world just ended. He looked down at his chest because he swears his heart ripped out of his chest at your words. Nope. Still alive. Why is he still alive in this cruel world? You had no chocolate for him? None? Not even a crumb?

"That's fine with you, right? I mean, you got a bunch of chocolate from other girls! You don't need mine."

He swear he is about to burst into tears. He didn't care about other girls. He didn't care about their chocolate. He wanted yours. How could you be so cruel and deny him of your chocolate? To reject him like this? He was devastated. No. Beyond devastated. Where is the closest cliff so he can jump off?

Pure silence radiated the room as Satoru tried to comprehend this horrible situation. Then he heard a small giggle slip pass your lips. That small giggle soon turns into a full-out laugh.

"You should have seen the look on your face, Satoru," you say as you try to stop laughing.

Was this funny to you? Why were you laughing at his suffering? Do you know how much he looked forward to today? To receive the cute little wrapped up chocolate you made for him? He dreamed of today, and you didn't have chocolate for him?

He then sees you reach into your bag and pull out exactly what he had imagined. A cute little chocolate box wrapped up in a baby blue color with a touch of white ribbon to finish it off. Fuck. He thinks he just got a heart attack seeing your chocolate. His chocolate.

"Princess, please don't joke like that to me ever again. You scared me half to death. I was going to jump off a cliff," he whined as he took the chocolate from your hand.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his dramatic behavior. "Stop being dramatic, Satoru. It's just chocolate."

A look of offense dawned his face as you utter those horrendous words to him.

"Chocolate? Just chocolate?" He huffed at you. He can't believe you as you treat this amazing god send gift as just chocolate. "Don't you dare call this just chocolate! This! This right here is proof of your undying love towards me!"

You laughed at his antics– "You're getting ahead of yourself, Satoru."

He delicately placed the chocolate safety away in his bag, treating it as a prized possession. He's looking forward towards white day. He already knows what he wants to get for you. He pulled you into a hug, nuzzling his face against your neck as he mutters– "You won't be saying that after I wife you up."

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru drabble #satoru gojo drabble #satoru gojo imagine #jjk imagines #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru headcanons #jjk drabbles #jjk headcanons #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk #gojo x reader

[shellxrls]

BABYTRAP !

— r. cameron

synopsis: rafe cameron x fem!reader… stumbling upon your ex at a party, you can’t help but fall into the trap of sleeping with him at least once more.

warnings: manipulative!reader / exgf!reader / babytrapping / aggressive, unprotected sex / dubcon (rafe is high & drunk) / mentions of substances such as weed and alcohol

a mixture of masculine cologne and the unseemly combination of alcohol and weed — you could smell rafe before he stumbled into you. he was being forced out one of the rooms lining the hallway of tannyhill, a crass hand shoving him out while he muttered a stream of curses in retort and attempted to single-handedly rebuckle his belt over his sagging trousers.

considering you were just about deeming your search for him futile, you seemed to have lucked out, grabbing the hand that had now moved on to buttoning his shirt. and cooing at his face, “she seemed like a bitch, wanna hang with me for a while rafe?”

his lips draw into a line at first, tension lining his face as he weighs up his options, but you pout your lips and pull down your shirt and once his eyes gravitate towards your tits, he lets you lead him into a private room.

“wanna tell me what happened?” you nod towards his haphazardly buttoned shirt, raising your eyebrows in question.

“nah,” he slurs his words a bit, torso leaning towards you until his head was looming over your own, “bought me in here to fuck hmm?”

you pause, slightly taken aback at his blunt nature — but it was rafe, so it’s not like you expected any less, it wasn't a surprise that the combination of intoxicators floating in his system had only made him more prone to aggression.

“c’mon tell me i’m wrong,” he pushes, heaving his body closer until he was shoving into your chest and you could feel his liqueur-stained breath on your cheeks.

he wasn't exactly wrong, but that didn't mean you weren't ready to retaliate, “gonna fuck me like you mean it this time? or you gonna cum before you make me like i bet you did with that girl earlier?”

“fuck you. actin’— actin’ as if i didn’t do enough for you while we were dating, always comin’ to me about some stupid shit ‘n crying, now i’m in the wrong?”

before he’s realised he’s driven your back into the headboard, spitting in your face with the mass of unresolved emotion bubbling to the surface— yes you were his ex, but more often than not it seemed like it was built on the foundation of mutually beneficial emotional support, fixing each others faults in a way.

sighing, you can’t help but tongue your cheek, you wanted a quick (and good) fuck, not to be forced into listening to his critiques of your side of the relationship, “you done yet?”

“mmh,” he grunts, clearly riled up “imma show you who’s fucking done.”

with that he’s straddling you over the bed, your back pushed into now mussed sheets and eyes already glazing over in preparation for the intensity of his sexual frustration.

hastily, he drags down your panties and discards your dress into some crevice of the carpeted floor, wordlessly manhandling his palms over your body, just feeling— reminiscing.

“fuckin’ hate you,” he huffs clearly exasperated at the weakness of his own will as he jerks himself against your slit, coating himself in the arousal glazing your pussy to prepare both of you for the stretch.

you both sigh when he finally gets it in, whinging until he’s reached the hilt and his balls are meeting your ass.

“missed you rafe,” you hum, creeping a hand to his lower back to push him in closer, encouraging him to start thrusting.

he smirks a little, eyes flickering in cynical joy, “forgot how easy you’re swayed with just some dick, princess.”

you mewl at the nickname, patting him on the back for penance when he increases his pace, the sound of skin-on-skin overtaking the bass leaking through the door and forcing punched out whines and whimpers to exit your mouth— noises of pure and utter degradation, all at the mercy of rafe’s cock.

rafe’s nearing the edge soon, you can feel it from the way he throbs and somehow grows heavier inside of you, and so you clench a couple times to motivate him, forcing higher pitched noises out of your mouth to which his own lips contort into pleasured grunts.

“fuck ‘m gonna cum baby, you’re close right? fuck, yeah you’re close,” the words tumble out of his mouth, his pelvis clenching tighter.

ever so slightly sex-dazed, you struggle to form the words, but once you finally regain your motive, a line of “love you rafe, i love you, iloveyou” ‘s spew out of your mouth, just in time to have him gasping around air and looking utterly confused as he’s forced into cumming.

before he has time to regain his bearings and pull out, you wrap your legs around his torso, digging your heels into the meat and repeating your prior words. constraining him into cumming deep inside of you, trapped into rutting it back into your pussy, oversensitive dick going flush at the base and squelching perversely while cum trickled out of you and oozed onto the sheets, sticking to your thighs and his crotch.

“fuck, ‘m sorry- i— i just, i got so.., you love me?”

“mhm rafey. gonna have all your babies now right? so we’re gonna have to love each other,” you faux pout, patting at your stomach and gathering his trembling hand to finger his release back into you.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron thoughts #rafe cameron x reader smut #rafe x reader smut

[makelemonade]

smut scenarios with genshin men

ayato, neuvillete, pantalone, diluc, wriothesly, childe, dottore (?), capitano, pierro- his maid/assistant

he loved how cute you were; How you always pulled your skirt up and showed off your thighs; How you always had your hair done, as if you had someone to impress.

You had him to impress, actually. He watches you bend down with a sharp eye, feeling himself harden just at the show of extra skin and excuses himself as he goes to the privacy of his office, jerking off as he imagines you bending over his lap as he spanks the revealed skin that just sends him haywire.

He starts requesting you stay late while the other workers go home, and he hopes you don't see through his facade but you oh so clearly can and you of course accept the request.

One night, you can hear him groan from the stress of his constant work and you knock at the door, waiting for his tired voice to speak.

"Come in,"

You walk in, and slight surprise overtakes him but there's a happy spark in his eyes. "Y/N, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I just thought you could use some help with your work," You spoke slyly and innocently as you walked up to his desk/

He looked at you confused, "What do you- oh,"

He lets out a groan when your fingers started to firmly yet softly dig into his back, hitting all the right spots as he completely relaxes.

He wants to say this is unprofessional- you're his boss! But was jerking off to you and fantasizing about you professional? No.

That was his reasoning for his boldness when he speaks. "You know, I'm feeling rather sore...down here."

That is how you find yourself in his lap, bouncing on his fat cock as you tried to stay quiet, but it was hitting such amazing spots and so deep into you that you couldn't help yourself but to scream his name.

"nghh- oh! yes, yes!"

If it was possible, it was turning him on even more- watching you struggle to take his large size but still trying to ride him just to be his stress relief. Instead, he decides to thrust up into you, making you stop trying and instead lean against him, wrapping your arms around him as he placed his hands on your hips, taking the lead and sending you into purebliss.

"oh~ oh! fuck...so deep!"

"if you're truly so keen on being such a good stress relief for me, well, then I hope you don't mind if I rail you for the rest of the night...and possibly every other.

thoma, kaeya, kazuha, Itto, aether, albedo, zhongli - a shrine maiden (or anything related in the other regions)

He doesn’t know what it is but there’s something about your innocence that he just needs to ruin.

Well, not ruin: he thinks it’s adorable, but he knows that one day someone else will see you in a way he fantasizes about late at night and he is determined to become that person because no one else deserves to see you in a way like that other than him.

He takes more frequent trips to where you work, to the point that it’s so often you find yourself hugging him when you see him and you don’t think about the way he holds on tightly, hands right above your ass.

However, you weren’t as innocent as he thought. Sure, you were completely oblivious ro the truth behind his actions but late at night, there was a possibility you had the same fantasias about it too. But you couldn’t show it to him! No, you had a job to do and it was to stay pure.

You just loved the way his touches were so teasing as they lingered near the places you oh so wish you could take care of.

It becomes so bad it starts to ache, and you find yourself at his door after coming back from work, needing his help for this relief and he is so happy to oblige.

Tears streamed down your face, moaning at how good his cock felt as it pushed into you so deeply, hitting all the spots your fingers never could.

“f-faster…” You gasped, “please!”

He could only let out a deep chuckle, his movement becoming harsher that anyone who even walked nearby the house could hear the slick noises.

“You’re gonna make me cum, darling.”

“In me!” you whined, trying to push yourself further onto his dick and he laughed. “f-fill me up!”

“Such indecency, dear. No one can know how much of a slut you are; it’ll ruin your image! That means you must always come to me for this, got it?”

#genshin impact #alhaitham x reader #childe x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin smut #thoma x reader #kaeya x reader #kazuha x reader #itto x reader #aether x reader #albedo x reader #zhongli x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #capitano x reader #dottore x reader #pantalone x reader #neuvillette x reader #wriothesly x reader #pierro x reader #wriothesley x reader

[sweetestdesire]

AN ACCIDENTAL INCIDENT

WARNINGS: absolutely none. Just some pure, sweet content.

PAIRING(S): Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: in which Jack Hughes accidentally makes a mess in the kitchen.

Jack Hughes, the man who happened to be one of the strongest hockey players of his time, felt his knees shake a little from fear. He watched the twist of the doorknob, glancing slowly around the kitchen and the mess he’s made, and gulped before sending a little prayer to whoever was listening. 

It didn’t take a genius to know he was in for an earful once Y/N saw this mess, but this also meant that he might just sleep on the couch. And then that meant no cuddles. And then that meant he won’t sleep well. And then that meant he’ll be sulky. And then that meant Jack will make a snide comment at his expense. And overall, he wasn’t really looking forward to subjecting himself to getting his feelings hurt like this. 

So, in ever so Jack-Hughes-fashion, he put a grin on his face and a pep in his step as he clambered up to Y/N, pressing two wet kisses to her cheeks while he greeted her. “Hey, pretty girl. You’re home.” He grinned, pressing more kisses along her jaw. “I missed you so much. I was starting to think you were never gonna show up.“

Y/N raised an eyebrow at his pout, rolling her eyes before letting the smile she’d been fighting off spread across her lips. With a shake of her head as she snorted and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, and Jack’s knees were a little wobbly again, but this time for completely different reasons. 

“Jack, maybe I’ve just been plotting to run away since the first day we moved in together.” Y/N teased, poking his lips as he pouted again. 

“Well, I love me a good chase.” He winked. “I’ll even give you a head start. Not that it’ll help, anyway. You’re far too slow. Ow, that fucking hurt.” He whined dramatically as she swatted at his shoulder. 

“No, it didn’t.” Y/N chuckled, forehead leaning against his as she smiled. It was soft, a little lopsided from pure glee, a little extra in love today than it was yesterday.

Jack almost forgotten about the mess in the kitchen, almost forgotten about the egg yolk on the ceiling and the salt he’s spilled all over the floor. Something about the way Y/N traced over the back of his neck with one hand and cupped the apple of his cheek with the other as she pulled him in for a sweet, slow kiss made the thought fly out of his head. Then, she suddenly pulled away and turned around right for the kitchen, right where the mess was. 

“Wait, baby, why don’t you go freshen up?” Jack tried to yank her by the arm. “I’ll order us something to eat tonight. I don’t want my girl to have to cook right after a long, exhausting, draining day, now do I?”

“Jack, what the fuck happened to my kitchen?” Y/N cut him off and asked sharply, making him stiffen. 

Jack Hughes was sure that if there was one thing in this world he was most scared of, it was her wrath. And right now, something told him he was about to feel a whole lot of her wrath. “I was attacked.”

“In the kitchen?” Y/N raised an eyebrow, arms crossing. Her hips did a little slant as she glared at him, and if he wasn’t so woeful that this might just mean a one way trip to the couch tonight, he might just grin at how adorable she looked.

“Yes.” Jack nodded seriously. “I was just minding my business, as one does in their kitchen, and suddenly, I was attacked. Y/N, I defended our kitchen with all I had.”

“Oh, I see.” Y/N nodded slowly, making him gulp as she narrowed her eyes. “And you were not only snuck up on in our kitchen, but you had to give it your ‘all’ to keep safe.” She looked him dead in the eye, and he was sure if looks alone could kill, his whole lineage would have died three times over by now. “Some protector, you are.” She said dryly. 

“Now that’s just mean.” Jack whined, wrapping his arms around her as he buried his nose into the crook of her neck. And even though she wanted nothing more than to desperately wrap her own arms around him, she stood painfully still. She couldn’t let him win everything with a sickeningly cute pout and sweet words all the time. “I was blinded by the pain of missing you so bad. It threw me off my game.”

Y/N couldn’t help but cave, couldn’t help but let the small grin on her face turn into a large beam, and couldn’t help what started as a giggle bubbling up her throat turn into soft laughter that rung through their home. When her arms snaked around his waist and brought him just a little closer against her body, when her lips found the side of his head and planted a small kiss through a smile, and when the sound of her voice met his ear in a soft hum, his heart only grew larger with every new moment she gifted him. So, Jack hugged her tighter, grinning when her hand threaded through his hair as he pressed a little kiss to her neck.

“You better clean my kitchen as valiantly as you defended it.” Y/N warned, poking his shoulder. He huffed, nuzzling his nose into the crook of her neck deeper. He could smell the faint smell of her perfume, and it was the same scent he was used to, it never changed and he hoped it never did.

“Don’t you wanna help?” He poked her hip. “I was all alone when I fought for our kitchen.”

“Nope.” Y/N grinned. “I’ll let you take care of it. And while you’re at it, go ahead and order out. Like you said, you’re paying.” And after a kiss to his temple, she pulled away with a cheeky little grin and left him there in the hallway. And he smiled, staring at the pictures on the walls and the shoes at the doorway, and sighed happily at the way the apartment was never lonely. Not with her.

“Looks like I’m not sleeping on the couch tonight.” Jack mumbled to himself in victory. 

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Y/N called from the bedroom, and almost like she knew he was pouting once more, the sound of her giggle rang through their home.

#jack hughes one shot #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes #jack hughes x female reader #jack hughes x fem!reader #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #jack hughes drabble #jack hughes thoughts #jh86 #new jersey devils

[vanillaberrychills]

Fat cock come out from hiding pls😔

just for you, a little drabble 🤔

cw: toxic relationships, fem reader! x obsessive! pervert! konig, naked bodies, sexual intercourse, mentions of spanking // not proofread

So, your man was a little fucking crazy, the type to hold a knife at you and beg for you to fucking marry him. But you were (regretfully) in love. Every aspect of König's being was fucking insatiable. He made you cry from heartbreak, joy, pure fucking ecstasy while he rammed that fat fucking cock in your deliciously wet cunt.

You didn't deserve his rough hands wrapped around that pretty little throat while he fucked you from behind, faced toward the mirror. Made a point of forcing you to keep eye contact while you cried and gasped to cum, mewling like his very own little cum slut. Which, let's be honest, you were. You were his filthy little secret he could cry into the breasts of. Let him cum in you because he's sooo sad and sooo horny. And you felt bad, his job was hard, hard enough where he couldn't help but come home in blood, even if it meant scaring you. No chance he actually enjoyed seeing your fearful expression while he tainted your "pure hands" with his blood tainted one.

Sure, he was a filthy fucking pervert, can still freshly recall the many, many times you've seen him huffing your panties, fisting his throbbing cock against it while his cock dripped sticky precum right through the threads. Such a shameless, filthy fucking bastard. Looking up at you, groaning out some words, "Look schatz. Look what you did? Why don't you get on your knees and fix it? Make daddy feel good."

And you would. Never were a smart lass, especially with König, who knew at least 300 different ways to fuck you stupid. So insecure and jealous, of literally any other person showing interest in you. Promised he'd kill everyone who ever posed a threat to your love while he was balls deep in your womb. Did you hear? Of course not! Not with the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass with each asynchronous thrust.

You really should break up with him, find someone better, gentler, sweeter. Though, when it came down to it, he was that guy. Bought you teddy bears when he fucked you too rough, chocolates for every bruise and bite mark he left on you. Scratching that point behind his ears and grumbling about how he "couldn't control himself around you".

He's a feral fucking monster, a nightmare of a man..but he's yours. Pays the bills, keeps you fed, sometimes even makes you feel safe. So what's the harm in a bat shit crazy bastard of a husband? Especially when he pops a fat rock of a ring. Those baby blues accentuated by the narrowing of his pupils. Had you right where he wanted you, didn't he?

#konig #könig smut #cod konig #konig x reader #konig x reader smut #yandere konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #konig smut #konig call of duty #könig x reader #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig #könig mw2 #vanillaberrychills❗

[ladysharmaa]

Why don't you love me?

Anthony Bridgerton x reader

Summary: Y/n and Anthony are in an arranged marriage. When she stops trying to make the relationship work and be the perfect wife, Anthony realizes what he's lost. Will he be able to get her back?

(gift is not mine)

It wasn't the marriage she wanted. And it wasn't what he wanted, because, in fact, he didn't even want to be married. And he didn't mind showing it. But for Y/n, she tried to make the best of their unfortunate situation.

It all started at the beginning of the season when Violet Bridgerton decided that her firstborn had been single for too long. So, she spoke to Y/n's parents, who were good friends of hers, and they both decided that a marriage between the two would be beneficial to both families. Anthony was going to have the support of someone who would take Violet's place as Viscountess and Lady Bridgerton. For Y/n's life, in this society, having a husband was essential and this marriage would allow social advancement.

Thus, Anthony and Y/n agreed with this decision. The preparation for the wedding was carried out quickly and this event was the biggest news for days. Lady Whistledown didn't help matters either by immediately releasing an advert showing her doubts about Anthony having a wife.

This only worsened Y/n's mood, who already feared being married to Viscount Bridgerton, as she was now doubting all the lovers Anthony could take to their bed. Would he not respect their marriage? Did she just want an heir and take care of the children? With these doubts, she said the "I do" in front of hundreds of people watching the ceremony, and allowed just one tear to fall.

From the beginning, Anthony made a point of making it clear that their marriage was purely a compromise, and that he would never truly love her. He was going to fulfill his role and try to have an heir and outside the house, they would act like a happy couple, but it wouldn't go beyond that. In silence, Y/n just offered him a nod, showing that she understood.

However, since then, nothing has happened between them. Anthony allowed her to have her own room, something Y/n was more than grateful for. Having to look at the face of her husband who would never love her every time she fell asleep would be too painful.

She was expecting that on some nights he would enter her room to try to get her with child. But none of that happened, which only confused Y/n more. Was he so disgusted by the idea of being married to her that he didn't even want to have pleasure with her?

So she tried to distract herself with tasks that could take some of the work off Anthony's shoulders and try to be the perfect wife. But Anthony still refused to spend more than five minutes alone with her. At breakfast, he was already at the office when Y/n woke up to go eat, at night he preferred to spend time with his brothers instead of returning home. He was making everyone's life difficult and Y/n was starting to get more and more sad. Would this be her routine until the end of her life? Trying to please a husband who didn't want her?

It was on a summer afternoon that Y/n, upon returning from a social gathering with Anthony's mother and sister, realized how hot the mansion was. She quickly remembered how Viscount's office, the few times she had been there, was directly in the sun which made it even hotter. So she decided to be brave and try to have at least a friendly relationship with her husband, so she went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

With growing nerves, Y/n went to Anthony's office door and knocked on the wood. After hearing Anthony's voice, she opened the door, finding him plus Benedict, who had become good friends with Y/n.

"Oh, I apologize if I am interrupting." she said shyly, keeping to the doorway.

"You are." Anthony immediately agreed in a deep voice, not paying attention to her and turning his attention back to the papers.

At the same time, his brother hurried to assure Y/n, "You're not interrupting anything. You even saved me from Anthony's boring lecture here."

The woman smiled uncomfortably. "Right. I just came to bring you a cup of water. It's so warm outside. I wasn't aware you were here, Mr. Bridgerton, but I can go and also bring you some water."

"Thank you, Y/n, I would—"

However, he couldn't finish his sentence as Anthony hit the table, causing his wife to jump in fright and immediately take a step back. Her reaction made Anthony's expression show some regret, but he quickly hid it. A silence fell between the three.

"I'm fed up, Y/n! Can't you understand that men are trying to work?! Go back to your life of looking at flowers and walking around without having to do anything and leave!"

Y/n's mouth opened and closed several times, trying to understand what had just happened. Finally, she pursed her lips and her eyes turned cold. "I apologize, Lord Bridgerton. It won't happen again. If you'll excuse me."

When she left the room, Benedict looked at his brother in shock. "That was so harsh. The poor girl was trying to be nice and cared enough to bring you a glass of water. If you don't want it, I'll have it. I'm talking about the glass and her."

"Don't you dare." he muttered with a clenched jaw, glaring furiously at Benedict. Where did this anger come from just thinking about Y/n with another man? "Now, let's go back to discuss how you spent money on a bet."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Y/n's behavior with Anthony changed completely. Everyone noticed that the Viscountess finally reached her limit, and stopped being the friendly wife, now looking coldly at her husband whenever they passed each other in the mansion. However, as a couple and heads of the family, they still had obligations to fulfill together.

Public appearances were more tense, but they still managed to keep a smile on their faces and talk to all the ladies who asked about their marriage and when they would have children, giving short answers so that nothing would end up in Lady Whistledown's hands. They also attended a horse race, even betting on different horses that would win. Y/n ended up winning the bet, and her smug look irritated Anthony for the rest of the day, something his brothers were quick to tease him about.

But despite not liking Anthony after his cruel words, which Y/n still thought about constantly, she adored his sisters and mother. They had accepted Y/n into the family, including her in their gatherings and even being a should to cry on. Daphne had already said more than once that she would have no problem going to Anthony and try to talk some sense into him, but Y/n refused. Anthony already didn't like her, if he thought she was turning his family against him he would hate her even more. And she didn't need to make her life worse than it already was.

One day, when she went with Anthony to the Bridgerton mansion to drop off some documents, Hyacinth, Anthony's younger sister, took her aside. Y/n followed the girl to the bathroom where she, with teary eyes and trembling lips, asked her if she was going to die when she started bleeding from her lady parts. Hyacinth also revealed to her that she wanted to go to her mother, but she had gone shopping with Francesca and was alone at home with just Collin. Y/n, very calmly and gently, assured her that it was a normal thing and that all women went through this, explaining what she should do.

It was no secret that Y/n was happy that Hyacinth trusted her with this scary situation and that she was able to help the girl. Despite all the problems in her marriage, she now had a role in helping Anthony's sisters and she never wanted to fail in that.

To Y/n's surprise, Hyacinth ended up giving her a big hug, remaining attached to her for the rest of the afternoon. Her period was making her so affectionate, more than she already was, that Y/n couldn't stop a big smile from appearing on her face at receiving so much affection.

Anthony, when he finally finished talking to Collin about the documents he brought, I was surprised to see his sister on the couch hugging Y/n. "Hyacinth, what are you doing?"

"Hugging my sister-in-law, brother. But you don't know what that is, do you?" she snapped. The girl's change in mood made Y/n have to put a hand over her mouth to keep Anthony from hearing the laughter that escaped her.

The shock on Anthony's face was comical. His little sister was basically choosing Y/n over him. And in truth, he didn't judge her because his wife was, without a doubt, better than him. And she deserved so much better.

On the other hand, his heart warmed when he saw the bond that the two had created. It was clear that Y/n felt great affection for his family. Could it be that if he had accepted this marriage from the beginning, they would now be a happy family? That they would spend afternoons together, cuddling on the couch and talking to his siblings? All these thoughts were racing through his mind, and the guilt was growing so much that he felt like he was going to vomit.

"Lord Bridgerton?" that sweet voice he had come to adore brought him out of his thoughts. He hated that since he snapped at her, she never called him by his first name again.

"What?" he asked, still disoriented.

Y/n was looking at him like he was stupid. "I asked if you were ready to leave. Hyacinth already went to her room to rest. I would like to do the same. So you must make haste."

Her bossy tone almost made his lips curl into a smile, but he controlled himself in time. "Of course, wife. We shall leave now. But I have to ask, what happened between you and my sister?"

"All you need to know is that she's fine and she's a woman now. But don't worry, as your wife, I'll handle these situations. Unless you prefer me to go look at the flowers, take a walk, and do nothing?"

The hint, which was delivered with great anger, caused the man to blush in shame and lower his head. Y/n didn't wait for his answer, taking her coat from a maid and walking to the carriage. He had screwed everything up.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

A few more days had passed and the situation between Y/n and Anthony had only gotten stranger. The day after the situation with Hyacinth, Y/n was coming down from her room to go get breakfast, as she always did, when she came across Anthony at the table, appearing to be waiting for her to eat.

Y/n stopped abruptly, looking at him in shock. "What are you doing?"

"I'm waiting for you so we can have breakfast. I have to go see my brothers again today to talk business, so I was thinking you could come with me and spend some time with my sisters. My mother She's also been saying how she hasn't seen you in a while. That is, only if you want to go. If not, I'll just go… Or I'll stay here to keep you company, whatever you want." he choked up, finishing his speech by drinking some milk, perhaps to calm his nerves.

Y/n remained in place without moving. She looked at Anthony strangely, as if doubting that those words had even come out of his mouth.

"It was silly of me to ask—"

"No," she interrupted him. "It's fine. I would actually like to go and spend time with your sisters. They are lovely. I shall go get ready then."

"Aren't you going to have breakfast with me first?"

"Lord Bridgerton, I've been eating breakfast alone since we got married and I came to live with you. I think you can handle doing the same for a day. Excuse me." she said with an exaggerated smile, turning her back on him and starting to go back to her room. However, she turned back to go get a cake that was on the table. "But I'm hungry so I will eat this in my chambers."

"Call me Anthony!" he exclaimed before she was completely gone. He had a desperate look, almost looking like he needed to hear his name come out of her lips.

"No."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Like every year, the Queen decided to throw a ball to celebrate the Diamond of the Season. The most eligible maiden on the marriage market. Y/n still remembers the first ball she attended — Daphne was the diamond of the season, but Y/n also managed to dance with a few suitors. Of course, in the end, she didn't end up marrying any of them. However, the nerves she felt at that ball were equal to or less than what she felt today: her first ball married to Anthony.

The Viscount and Viscountess had entered together, her hand resting on his arm, followed by Violet and the rest of his siblings. Tonight they would have to be on the lookout for suitors who might want to dance with Francesca, the diamond of the season.

Anthony quietly appreciated his wife. She looked breathtaking in her dress, her hair neatly tied back that showed off her majestic earrings, given by Anthony on their wedding day. He was proud to have a wife like Y/n, and he regreted that he hadn't shown it since day one.

While the Bridgertons started to go their own way, interacting with other people and dancing, Y/n preferred to stay in the corner watching the couples dancing. She longed to experience that with Anthony, but not in a forced way like some were. No, she wanted it to be felt, for them to dance to the music and really appreciate that moment.

But instead of her husband approaching her, it was another man, Earl Cavendish. Y/n remembered some moments when she had already seen him, as he was looking to get married this season. As she approached her, with a confident air, Y/n lowered her head to compliment him, "Good afternoon, Earl Cavendish."

"Lady Bridgerton, a pleasure to meet you. I must say, you look flawless. Would you give me the pleasure of dancing with me?" he extended his hand.

Y/n's eyes widened, not knowing what to do. People had already started looking at them, whispering among themselves. However, she didn't have to respond to the invitation as she felt an arm wrap around her waist and bring her closer to him.

"Excuse me, Earl Cavendish, but I want to have the pleasure of dancing with my beautiful wife first." Anthony said with his jaw clenched, looking him up and down menacingly. "I'm sure you will be able to find other ladies to dance with tonight. Just not my wife."

The two men looked at each other for a few seconds, neither of them wanting to back down. Anthony grew more and more furious, her wrists clenching and bringing Y/n even closer to him, but careful not to hurt her.

"Very well. I shall leave. I hope to see you again someday, Lady Bridgerton."

"I will —" Anthony began by exclaiming in anger as the Earl walked towards another woman, not having liked the way he looked at what was his.

"You will do nothing." the Viscountess snapped coldly. "I can't understand you, you ignore me, you treat me badly, and then you act protective when another man shows interest in me? I never said anything about you having lovers, even though I didn't like that in our marriage."

"What? I've never disrespected our marriage like that, Y/n. In the past I've done a lot of things, but since we got married the only woman I'll look at and touch is you. I don't want anyone else."

"You have a funny way of showing it." she laughed sarcastically, feeling increasingly emotional. "I have to go get some air. You should go check on Francesca again."

Feeling the cold night air, Y/n's heart began to calm down. It was so difficult having to deal with Anthony's changes of attitude, she couldn't understand him. She just wanted to be loved, and since that wasn't possible, she preferred that they stay as far away from each other as possible since being friends didn't seem to be an option either.

"I'm sorry." the voice she had come to know so well whispered behind her. Y/n refused to turn around, leaning against the balcony and taking deep breaths to control her emotions. "I shouldn't have acted the way I did. I know that marrying me shouldn't have been your choice either, but I was scared. I was scared to have a wife, because that meant I had another person in my life that I could lose ."

She finally had the courage to turn around and look into Anthony's brown eyes. They held back tears and showed the sadness, regret and anger that Anthony felt.

"I'm so angry with myself for the way I treated you. You deserve so much better than this. And I'm sorry I couldn't give you that. The cruel words I said to you but didn't mean. I was scared to let you in. in my heart, so I tried to push you away. Believe that all I want is to have you in my arms. To love you. To start a family with you. Please, I promise I will do better. And every day I will try to reward you for what you do.

"Lord Bridgerton—"

"Please, call me Anthony. It pains me when you call me like that. Reminds me that I was… Am so close to losing the best thing of my life. I will kneel before you and beg for forgiveness if that's what you want." he murmured with a hand over his heart, beginning to kneel on the ground without hesitation.

"There is no need for that… Anthony." she enjoyed seeing the relief and happiness that spread across his face upon hearing his first name. "I just don't understand why you didn't love me? And now you want to try to make our marriage work?"

"That's the thing, I have always loved you. I love you. My whole body, my heart, feels love for you. That has never changed." he revealed desperately. "I was a coward and didn't know how to deal with my feelings. Because they are so strong that my heart feels like it's going to come out of my chest. Please, give me another chance."

"Hmm, I don't now." The look of disappointment was so marked on Anthony's face, almost looking like he was ready to burst into tears, that Y/n stopped his suffering and showed him an amused smile, making him understand that she was joking. "I think I want you to suffer a little more to get my forgiveness."

"I will do anything for you, Y/n. Ask me the world and I will give it to you."

"Such a romantic now, aren't you?" she whispered, admiring his features.

She didn't realize their faces were so close until she felt his nose trace the delicate skin of her cheek. A gasp escaped her mouth, and Anthony took the opportunity to connect their lips in an unforgettable kiss.

Anthony pulled away quicker than he wanted, but he needed to make sure this was really what his wife wanted. "I love you."

"Kiss me again, and maybe I will also tell you that."

And what his wife wanted, he did. The two remained on the balcony, enjoying the comfort the other gave them. They still had a long way to go, but they knew that from that moment on, their lives would change drastically for the better. They had each other.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x you #collin bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton x y/n

[alittlebitofsainz]

me (and you) and my guitar

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: just a little drabble; you’re shy about playing guitar around other people, but charles desperately wants to hear your hidden talent

masterlist

“I didn’t know that you play the guitar?”

your cheeks immediately flushed red, instinctively trying to hide the instrument behind your back, a task you didn’t really achieve considering the instrument in question was a guitar roughly half your height. you glanced away, not meeting charles’ eyes, feeling his curious gaze flitting between you and the fret of your guitar peeking out from behind your back.

“I don’t. well, not really.” came your reply, words bordered by a nervous chuckle. charles was unconvinced, raising an eyebrow, but your response was only half untrue. you didn’t play guitar, as far as most of the world was concerned; you didn’t play in front of other people, preferring to keep your favourite hobby to yourself. this was the first time someone had stumbled across you, hiding in a corner of the ferrari motorhome, trying to while away the minutes that were threatening to turn into an hour. the rain wasn’t letting up, and the race didn’t look like it would resume any time soon. charles didn’t seem to think so either, judging by the way his fireproofs were hanging round his hips, and by the way he was hanging around the back of the garage instead of discussing data with his engineers. there’s only so much you can talk about, he once told you when you’d asked him about it.

“you won’t keep playing?” he asked, the wounded expression on his face worming its way into your heart, even if you knew it was mostly playful, “not even for me?”

you couldn’t help but laugh at his fake pout, bottom lip sticking out and eyebrows curving upwards to give you those puppy dog eyes that he knew you couldn’t say no to. or, rather, he hoped you wouldn’t say no to. you had a tendency to be stubborn from time to time. and this? this was one of those times.

“sorry, charles.” you shook your head, even as he blinked imploringly at you. but his expression changed after a moment, an expression that always worried you. charles leclerc was coming up with a plan.

“if I play first for you, will you play for me after?”

it was tempting, you had to admit. there was a time, a few months ago now, that charles had been obsessed with learning guitar, could barely be pictured without one attached to his back. you’d always known he’d been musical, something you’d bonded over. but then he’d picked piano back up, and guitar seemed to have fallen by the wayside. charles had that personality where he liked to be good at things. so you’d dropped it, never asked him about it, despite your curiosity. so this offer? and combined with the pleading look in his eyes? well, how could you refuse?

his face lit up when you agreed, reaching for the guitar with an outstretched hand. he sat beside you, shoulder to shoulder, weighing up the instrument in his hands, fingers finding their way over the fret. okay, so the chord changes were a little clumsy, his fingers, clearly made for piano, fumbling a little over the barred notes. but there was an undeniable musicality to it, an underlying reminder that charles had a good ear and pure rhythm, no matter what he turned his hand to. you rewarded his piece with a quiet round of applause and a broad, genuine smile.

“you ought to practice more!” your tone was enthusiastic, but charles tilted his head with a confused expression, clearly expecting something a little more… complimentary. you quickly backtracked, shaking your head,

“no, I mean-“ you stumbled a little, becoming tongue tied in your attempt to reassure him you meant it positively, “I mean you’re a natural, charles, really. if you really worked at it, you could be incredible; as good as you are at piano.”

his expression changed, understanding, and he flashed you a rueful smile.

“if only I had the time.” he replied softly, his words carrying a hint of wistfulness. you hummed in reply, a soft sign escaping you.

“yeah, fair enough.” you agreed quietly.

but charles wasn’t going to forget your end of the bargain in a hurry.

“a deal’s a deal. your turn.” he handed the guitar over to your reluctant hands, an expectant grin spreading across his face. it was rare you saw him get this excited over anything that wasn’t a podium finish or a puppy; it almost felt like an honour.

“okay, fine.” you replied in a way that let him know that you really didn’t want to do this.

he sat there, enraptured, eyes alternating between following the way your fingers danced across the strings and being glued to your face, your expression concentrated yet relaxed at the same time. when you finally finished, he sat there for a moment, quiet, as if processing the last couple of minutes. you rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly, shifting the guitar off your lap and propping it up beside you.

“thank you.”

“yeah, like I said, I’m really not that good, and- wait, what did you say?”

you paused as his words overlapped yours, both speaking at the same time.

“I said thank you.” he repeated, quieter this time, as if almost embarrassed by the words. “I mean, for letting me listen to you play. you’re really good.”

you opened your mouth to disagree, but charles cut you off with a shake of his head.

“and don’t say you’re not.” he told you with a warning glance. you chuckled; he knew you too well. he paused for a moment, his gaze wandering across the garage to focus on the rain still falling on the tarmac outside. he had that look on his face again. his thinking look.

“could you teach me?”

he said suddenly, and not for the first time today, you had to ask him to repeat himself so you could make sure you’d heard him right.

“I mean, I don’t have time for formal lessons or anything like that, but moments like these…” he turned to face you, gesturing vaguely around the garage, “the little moments in between races. sometimes… well, let’s say it would be nice to think about something other than driving for just a few minutes.”

when he put it like that, how could you say no?

“I’m not exactly a qualified teacher.” you tried to protest, but it was a losing battle.

“you seem good enough to me.” came his reply, as if he’d lined it up, already anticipating your argument. “I don’t need to have a perfect technique. I just want to be able to play every now and again. like you.”

you ducked your head to try and hide the blush creeping up into your cheeks, feigning the need to tune a string on your guitar. the rain was starting to ease outside: the race would begin soon.

“okay. you’ve got a deal.”

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 fic

[kaizynofsickness]

Caught In The act

SMUT BELOW, MDNI!

Warnings!— catching Gojo masturbating to you, panties in mouth, gagging (with the said panties), switch/a tad bit subby Gojo, dacryphilla (a small bit), pussy whipped, slight size kink, cervix fucking, slight degradation if you squint, needy themes, pet names (baby, princess) begging.

"Hmmph-" Satoru lets out pathetic whines behind closed doors, muffling his voice with the sweet taste of your panties in his mouth, cock getting fisted into his hands. He was missing you to an unhealthy level. And by you, he means that little cunny.

His eyes roll back and a choked sob of a moan goes into your panties, the taste making him feel aroused and it all goes to his tip, making it twitch.

He can picture your face as he goes animalist, taking you from behind, shoving your head into the pillow as you cry and beg out from how mean he was bullying his dick deeper. How absolutely adorable and hot you would sound begging for mercy, making his orgasm shock his body. He groans deeply, fucking the cum right out of his cock as he wishes it was your hole sucking and milking it out of him like always. His orgasm felt so lame, he couldn't get what he wanted properly. He didn't want to have his cock fisted into his hands, he wanted to have your cunt greedily squeezing him back inside with every thrust.

He wasn't satisfied.

His imagination is tiring his brain, you're just rotting him away with that cunt, and he can't even have it right now. He takes your panties out of his mouth, letting out a gag of relief yet disappointment. The spot where your pussy would be resting in was soaked in his spit and some tears. He then wraps the fuzzy fabric around his tip before sliding it down to the base, beginning his stroking. "Oh... Like that, hm?" He couldn't help but wish you were there, below him, whining as he teased his tip into you as he liked. Yeah, he was talking out loud, pretending it was you he was talking to. Pathetic, right?

He has a sex drunk smile on his face with his eyes clouded with pure lust. He was whipped for that cunt, and this was what happened when you neglect him from so long. He gasp, whines, moans and even growls trying to imagine your face. His pumps get more desperate, frustrating tears almost falling out of his eyes. "Fuuuckkk, wan' load that hole sooo bad..." he growls out, balls tightening as he gets ready for another orgasm, his mind telling him he was going to paint your insides white. Soon, long white, creamy strings and globs of cum shoot from his blushing tip, hips jerking up. He stains through his orgasm, cum seeping out of him.

"Satoru?"

You just happen to open the door in on him, acting as if you couldn't even hear what was going on inside. You caught him at orgasm, midway through the pleasure. Such a fucked out face with small tears dotting in the corner of his eye, cock twitching and veins pulsating as his seed shoots. It takes a second to calm down from his high before he even looks your way. "Baby...?" He was getting even more red, seeing you just standing there with your eyes wide, directly looking at his cock.

He wanted to start justifying himself. Yet you already seen how your panties were wrapped around his cock so tightly. There wasn't nothing more to say, you saw everything, and you're not stupid. You know what he was doing, especially with the amount of cum everywhere.

"listen, I just wanted you and—" he didn't even know where to start.

"You... Masturbated. To me?" You point to yourself, dumbfounded. You believe that your boyfriend would do such, but with your own panties? "Uh, yes... Princess, you're just so desirable—especially... Your pussy." He seemed to completely forget how he was embarrassed, eyes trailing down your body. That's what he was waiting for, and it's right in front of him. There's no need to wait no more. His voice became sultry, gruff and needy. "Hmm... Come here. Take care of the rest." He spread his legs open for you, giving you a good look of how much cum was down to his base and twitching, veiny and needy. His cock was begging for your attention—touch.

"n-now?!" You were honestly just a bit shocked. His change in emotions was almost bipolar. His eyebrows furrowed as you just stood there as if he didn't say anything. "Baby, I didn't stutter. Get on."

He went from being awkward to being demanding. "Don't deny me no longer, please..."

You didn't want to see him so desperate, so you decided to climb onto the bed, your thighs spreading open as you straddle him. His eyes almost roll back just from the sight of this. If only you had your clothes off. His hands don't waste any time to start traveling your body as if it was a map, grabbing your breast and pinching the nipples underneath all of the clothing. You let out a shocked yelp, almost a moan from his simple touch. Now you waste no time, hastily starting to removes your lower clothing and quickly discarding your panties.

"there we go now..." he was completely pleased with what he was seeing, his cock standing straight and already lined up with your hole to be shoved into. With a jerk upwards, half his length made it inside that sweet and tight hole. You whine from the sudden intruder making no room for more. But you can tell how this is going to go. You slowly sink down onto his dick, pussy engulfing him deeper until he is shoved up in. You only stop when your ass hits his body with a small sound, at the base of his cock. Or even balls deep.

Being the greedy bastard he is, he wiggles your body from your hips down even more, his tip pressing inside and trying to reach spots that shouldn't be touched. "O-okay, that's all that can fit." You meekly say to him, hands trying to pry his own off. Yet he makes sure to fuck deeper.

"yeah? You think? We'll only see soon if you begin to ride me right, princess." He snickers, a small smirk on his face before he thrust his hips into you. He was giving your cue to hop like a little bunny on the dick. You listen well, lifting half of his cock out, a wet and slick sound filling your ears as you slam yourself back down, a slap echoing.

You repeat the action, slow strokes at the start to get yourself ready to be pounded. Satoru leans his head back on the bed board, mouth slightly agap as he lets out small moans, your wetness coating him down his pelvis already. His pretty voice encourages you enough to get him to load you and stuff you silly full of cum. Your bouncing gets more frequent, aiming his tip as it fucks against your cervix with every pound. You ride him out, hips occasionally rolling around to feel him rubbing his dick inside your sweet spot.

"just like that, mm..." He says, half there. This is what he wanted this whole time.

"you couldn't'—hm—wait?" You say in between your own little moans, your hands desperately gripping onto him for support as you frantically bounce on him. Satoru doesn't want to remember his slight embarrassment in that moment. You can't blame him for being so attached to something so addicting? Just that sweet pussy and wetness alone gets his mind foggy. He whines lightly from your tease. As a result to your mouthy and bratty attitude, he decides to hammer you down, hands on your hips. "Who can wait for such a good fuck? Do ya not hear how sexy y'er pussy sounds? Talkin' me s' well." His eyes begin to close and ecstasy, using his strength to get you down on his dick right. His breathing becomes more rapid. "And can you complain? You get good dick."

Matter of fact, you couldn't complain; literally, you were being fucked so silly that the air got knocked right out of you every time he slammed you down to his balls. You cry out, the pleasure starting to manipulate into some sort of pain. The mix was even more arousing. Even if your moans were drowned out by the wet sounds of your pussy being slid in and out of, the sound 'pat, pat' echoing with every skin connection, you couldn't even be heard. You were babbling uselessly to him—to his mean dick that you'll cum a mess on.

Satoru felt your walls around his, tight and warm on his tip as you pulsed. He loves the soaking of your wetness and the lewd sounds from your mouth and cunt. The only reason you were leaking so much arousal is because his monstrous size left no room, so when he fucked, he fucked it all out of you. "P-please, 'toru, fuck! Slow dooownnn..." You beg to him, nails making small crescent shapes into his shoulders. He can't help but laugh at you. This is what he been imagining, why would he stop ever? "Tch, tch..." He pretends to be disappointed, shaking his head.

He doesn't even humor your desperate and pathetic cries. He wants to see you how he just was in the bed with your panties, all whiney and needy, even if you were begging for something else. "Sh, baby. Sh, jus' lemme make you cum."

Soon enough you did exactly that. You feel the familiar high chasing up. Your clit throbs for attention and touch as you shake slightly, body ready for an intense feeling. You clamp down on his dick. "F-fuckkk, cummin'." You let out the prettiest series of moans and soft whines, the sounds going straight to his dick and making him all hard again while he was still inside you. Your juices stream from your pretty pussy, cumming down his dick as your thighs quiver slightly. Satoru keeps a smile on his face, pussy drunk as he watches the clear and white blurry mix soak his lap. He whistles out, satisfied with how you made a mess. He gives you a firm squeeze on your ass, signalling that it wasn't over. "Made me close to cummin' with that sight of your pussy gushing, princess." He whispers to you, hands going back to drill you full of cum.

You back arches naturally, walls overstimulated along with your neglected clit. Your pussy was a drug for him that he wants to abuse like crazy. If he could have this everyday, he will never jerk off again.

"s-sensitive!" You cry out even more, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He couldn't help but smile, cooing to your state of mind. "You're fine, baby. Be that good slut and ride me with my movements." He demands of you playfully, even if he was serious about needing you. You end up complying with him, raising your hips up to match his speed with your face still nuzzled into his neck. He can't help but let out a moan simply because of how good you listen. His pace becomes sloppy, and he becomes greedy as he chases his orgasm like a madman. At this point, he can't even hear your words. He was just so focused on watching as his dick disappears inside your cunt. "Finna fill you good—" his voice becomes strained.

The feelings of warm liquid spreads around your walls, coating and painting them white just how he wanted it. Your body jolts from the sudden warm feeling all inside of you, his steamy seed sticky.

You could have just passed out right now. You still had so much self-consciousness, but it was the way that he wanted to continue that made you want to black out. Satoru notices this, and it only brings the cocky bastard some more ego. "Aw, dick too good for you?" He said in a mocking tone, slightly patting your ass.

"hmph... y-yea." You weakly respond. He lifts your face up to his by your chin, kissing your lips deeply in an intoxicating yet bruising kiss. "Then your okay for more, right?"

"more...?" You said in almost disbelief, looking into his sapphire diamond eyes. Yet you can only see such desirable lust. "Yeah, more. I didn't stutter, unlike you." He shakes his head, shifting his dick inside you as he only cock warms. "Why can't I use you as a cock sleeve now? You're the one who made me wait."

You can't help but believe that this was real. You should have never denied him of sex so long. "Fine. Go as long as you want." You agree to him reluctantly, hesitant as you slowly give your body to him. The way you didn't gave him such a prideful feeling as if he needed any more confidence. He kisses your lips again before going back to place his hands down on your hips.

"how many rounds?" He considers it. "How abo—"

"fuck it, nevermind." He doesn't even wait for you to say anything more, he decides that he wants to flip you over. Soon enough your head is placed into a pillow, and his hand skillfully force you to arch your back. "I'll go as long as I want. Like you said."

˚꩜⋆.°⭑Do not copy, translate, or steel in any way, reblogs are appreciated and allowed.

@kaizynofsickness

From a poll I did.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #x reader #female reader #fem reader #jjk satoru

[brucewaynehater101]

Apologies if I'm remembering wrong but I recall you posting/reblogging a post of Tim being afraid for Damian after he became Robin, thinking Red Hood would redirect his ire to him

Let's expand on that, Damian finding out about all the horrible shit Tim went through and put himself through and beginning to dread being Robin more and more but not wanting to take it back because he doesn't want to add onto Tim's pain

((and also because giving up robin would make him look week, but that's just an excuse))

So Damian is wrecked with anxiety because when is the hammer gonna drop and he'll receive what Tim did?

And if Tim's inheritance is going to be his, that means inheriting all the labor he is endures when running Wayne Enterprises, and etc

And Damian—wrong as he is—thinking himself selfish for hoping Tim stays in the family just so the day he inherits his duties comes later

Damian bonding with Tim over pain the latter experienced and the former is certain he will as well

((and also imagine what will go through Damian's head if he were to find out Tim doesn't even consider himself an actual Wayne member and just a Placeholder to keep the family from crumbling to pieces like that other post, a Placeholder until Jason and Damian came))

((and suddenly his assassination attempts seem like all for nothing and even self-sabotage, woof))

Hello! It seems that there are two of my posts you're referring to here (which is super super cool). This is going to be a long post cause it inspired me to really look at their dynamic and explore it.

One post talks about how Tim became Red Robin and didn't choose another mantle. There's a few reasons for this (like not being able to step down from his role of helping Bruce), but the reason you're referring to is another theory of mine. Tim may be Red Robin to share the burden and pain being Robin entails. He doesn't want Damian to face it alone. By being Red Robin, he can shoulder some of the ire from Batman.

The other post has Tim, who signed himself up to being Jason's placeholder both in an out of the mask, seeing himself as worthless and temporary. Both of his roles, being Jason and being Robin, got filled by Jason and Damian later.

Now that we've got the background, I absolutely love your take on this. I will add a few fics that expand on this view, but I do want to talk about it more first.

Unfortunately, Damian is used to a lot of abuse before coming to live with the Waynes (I love good mom Talia, but training to be an assassin is still abuse. She could have good reasons, but it still hurt Damian). He probably felt that he needed to earn his place and fulfill his familial role as Robin. Even as he matures and heals a bit, he may be reluctant to let Robin go. That type of training and enforced dedication to family is not simple to let go (even from a purely emotional abuse standpoint without any of the physical abuse he likely endured [This can be another thing he shares with Tim and his reluctantance to let Red Robin go]).

Kids, like Damian, will see others in similar situations and try to avoid their fate.

What is more likely? Tim is just special in being a target of isolation and abuse, or that Damian could one day be treated the same?

There's a ton of interesting theories about roles within abusive families (my family was emotionally abusive fyi). The sad part is that some of the kids will follow the example of their parents and abuse their siblings. This is both because parents model behavior and as a survival technique to not become the scapegoat like that one sibling. Damian may have joined in on being verbally abusive for both of these reasons (as well as being an extremely traumatized kid lashing out).

As he grows older and gains perspective (as well as distance from his LoA days), he may reflect on his behavior and the treatment of Tim. Tim is also the closest in age to Damian. He might be around physically more than the other siblings (besides Duke). Perhaps Duke even points out the differential treatment. There's a lot of ways that the metaphorical ball could get rolling.

This could be where Damian starts to regret his actions toward Tim. It may start from a selfish place (which, survival is not selfish and being selfish isn't always bad) of Damian realizing the assassination attempts are self-sabotage (and I love this idea and reflection on Damian). This would then morph into a genuine relationship and reliance on Tim.

I imagine, with these circumstances, that Tim becomes an anchor and safe point for Damian. All of the siblings have varying effects on the others, but this would be separate from that. While Dick is Damian's harbor, Tim would be closer to a lighthouse protecting Damian from the rocky shoreline. Dick is a place to rest and heal. Tim is a warning and guide (feel free to reblog with how the other batkids would be with Damian or each other).

Continually, Damian wanting Tim to stick around the family for his own safety hurts like hell. This casts the older sibling guilt (of leaving your siblings behind in that damn house) in a younger sibling's shame. Depending on the age, the younger sibling might be angry the older left or ashamed they want to ask in the first place. As a middle child, that fucking hurts (my situation is a bit more nuanced than that, but fuck. Ow).

Anyways, tons of angst to explore there on both of their parts.

I sincerely hope that Damian gets a life outside of WE. I hope he at least has time to explore himself (and maybe get a different career) before ever taking up WE. Depending on Tim's role in WE, this may fuck him over. I would be down to read some fics that explore Tim struggling under WE (cause he was meant for the research labs and not meeting rooms) and his refusal to step down due to the pressure that would put on Damian's shoulders (I know Tim isn't actually CEO in canon, but it's good to explore how the expectation of taking up the family business affects sibling dynamics).

Fic rec time! All are on AO3

"Exit Strategy" by smilebackwards (Tim's plan to leave the Waynes creates the ability for Damian and Tim to bond [not that Damian knows this is the plan]. Hurt ensues).

"Taming a Baby Assassin" by nighttmr (Tim, after being notified that he's getting a younger sibling with Damian, decides he'll be a big brother regardless of the effort required).

"Some Common Ground" by Do_wa_diddy (Both Damian and Tim are used to cruel standards of training. The others do not understand this and try to limit how they train. This causes Tim and Damian to bond).

"Just Like the Movies" by faithms (Damian finds a flash drive of all the times Bruce has been horrible to Tim).

"The Study of Birds" by MaskoftheRay (Tim and Damian find a common interest in bird watching. It shows them slowly becoming closer despite the obstacles).

Last one:

"You'll Change Your Name or Change Your Mind (previous title: Tim Drake Learns to Set Boundaries)" series by samsamiam.

I wholeheartedly recommend this series. Basically, Tim sets boundaries for himself while offering Damian sanctuary (should the kid need). It becomes Tim protecting Damian even from Bruce. Very very very good.

#dc comics #dc universe #tim drake #damian wayne #damian wayne angst #tim and damian #tim drake angst #thank you for the ask!!!!

[vinvantae]

𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝

Based off of this ask from @pear-1206

Summary - Dad!Jenson x wife!reader - where you bring your daughters to their first race and Jenson is determined to do his best.

Warnings - none, short and sweet, pure fluff

Word count - 1.2k

Spa was always one of the best tracks to race at - the atmosphere was unlike any other, and - thankfully - the chance of rain was slim. And this weekend was arguably the most important race weekend of Jenson’s career so far - sure it wasn’t for a championship win, but it was the very first race that his daughters would be attending and he was determined to make them proud.

They knew their daddy was a race car driver, but they’d never seen it themselves, you’d both agreed to wait until they were at least confidently walking before bringing them to a race and now aged 2 and 4, it was time for Isabelle and Ava to come to see him drive.

He wasn’t sure if he was more excited or if they were, both of them practically bouncing off of the walls in excitement when he asked them if they wanted to come watch. He’d been sure to pick up some of the smallest merch he could find - wanting his girls to be in his colours as the 4 of you walked through the paddock together.

Ava clung to his shirt as he carried her on his hip, looking around curiously at all the sights - whilst Isabelle was more than happy enough to explore on her own two feet, asking lots of questions. Jenson couldn’t help but feel pride and joy blooming in his chest as he finally got to spend time with his 3 favourite girls in the world in his favourite place.

“Oh hey! I wasn’t expecting the full button clan this weekend.” Lewis grinned, crouching to give Isabelle a high five before offering one to Ava who giggled shyly - patting her little hand against his. “What do we owe the pleasure?”

“Well, we thought they’re both old enough now and it coincided with a weekend that my gorgeous wife could take some time off work.” Jenson hummed, smiling softly at you. “And imagine being able to say that Spa was their first race, that’s pretty cool.”

Lewis smiled. “Who are you girls rooting for this weekend? Is it me?”

Isabella stuck her nose up a little. “No! Daddy, of course!”

“Duh, that was a silly question wasn’t it?” He chuckled. “See you all later, yeah?”

“Say bye to Lewis, Ava.” He whispered, bouncing the toddler in his arms a little - encouraging the toddler to wave.

“Bye Lew!” She grinned. “Race fast! Not fast as daddy, please.”

Jenson helped the three of you set up in the back of the garage - ear protectors comfortably over each of your ears, Ava now in your arms and Isabelle perched comfortably so she had a good view of the screens. He pressed kisses to each of your foreheads before heading off to get race ready.

He always raced better when you came to see him - 2009 was proof enough of this, you’d met the year prior and suddenly everything seemed to fall into place for him. And whilst another championship may not be within his reach like it had been before, he wouldn’t stop at anything to try and make his babies proud of him this weekend.

So when he put the car in P1 for qualifying, seeing your proud faces at the barrier was proof enough to him that he needed to repeat the performance tomorrow. Your gentle whispers of love for him in your shared bed that evening, telling him just how happy his girls were to see him do well - praising him between kisses.

“I’m gonna win for them tomorrow.” He hummed softly, taking your jaw in his hand as you laid, side by side. “Want our girls to see me win… be proud of me.”

You cooed softly. “Jense, they’d be proud of you no matter what. You’re always going to be the coolest dad in the world to them.”

“I mean… I am the coolest Dad.” He grinned, earning a playful roll of your eyes and a kiss goodnight. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

It wasn’t a particularly sunny day for a race, but it was comfortable and the endless piles of raincoats you had brought with you were now unnecessary. The girls both donned in their Dad’s merch - Isabelle’s blonde hair braided, a little red bow at the end, swaying as she skipped along and Ava’s tucked away beneath a cap, her head once again rested against Jenson’s shoulder as she dozed.

He almost didn’t want to put her down - loving the feeling over her in his arms. “Daddy’s got to get in the car, princess.”

“M’comfy.” She yawned. “But okay… Mummy?”

“Hey, I’ve got you.” You hummed softly, taking her from your husband. “I’ll wake you when the race is about to start okay?”

Jenson smiled fondly - giving his little family one more glance before heading out for the race. Whilst he always felt motivated before any race, there was something about knowing the three of you were watching in the garage that gave him that extra kick up the ass to do his best. He rolled his helmet over in his hands, smiling at the girls names he had printed on the carbon fibre before pulling it over his head and sliding into the car.

You could feel your heart racing in your chest as the race immediately started with a messy incident - Maldonado jumping the start turned into a multi-car incident, but thankfully Jenson managed to keep his nose clean and lead the race the whole way through.

As he climbed out of the car, he didn’t even hesitate to run over to the barriers to sweep the three of you into his arms - his heart racing.

“You did it, Daddy! You won!” Isabelle giggled.

It was Ava’s turn to cheer next, her little fists balled up in Jenson’s race suit. “Yaaaay, Daddy!”

He pulled back just enough to look at the three of you, his eyes crinkled up in a smile through his open visor. Jenson pulled his helmet over his head and gave you a chaste kiss. “I love you girls… so much. Thank you for being here today.”

“Go get your trophy, we’ll be right here.” You hummed softly, somehow effortlessly balancing a daughter on each hip. “Then the celebration dinner is on me.”

“…and dessert?” He smirked, raising a brow - leaning a hand on the barrier - eyes only for you, twinkling with mischief.

But before you could scold him the girls both squealed in excitement. “Daddyyy! We want dessert too!”

“See what you’ve done?” You laughed. “Seriously, get out of here!”

He returned your laugh before heading up to do just that - this trophy was like no either; it wasn’t his first, it wasn’t for a championship win… but as the national anthem played over the crowds, the feeling of being able to look down and see the three of you smiling up at him was like no either. His chest felt warm and fuzzy, he absolutely loved racing and finally getting to share it with his girls was a dream come true.

I love you. He mouthed, relishing the way your smile brightened.

I love you too.

He was brought out of his almost trance-like state as Sebastian sprayed him down with champagne, the German gripping his bicep as he lent into whisper. “Congrats man, can’t imagine the night you’re in for with the way your wife was looking at you.”

Jenson laughed, giving him a playful shove before returning the spray of the sparkling drink.

He took one more glance over the podium at the three of you, grinning as the girls waved up at him once more. Definitely his favourite podium ever.

#jenson button x reader #Jenson button x you #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #x reader

[quoththemaiden]

I hope everyone enjoyed the finale of @mrghostrat's Big Name Feelings Good Omens AU as much as I did. While ghostrat ended his story perfectly with a beautiful and realistic close to the part of their relationship we as an audience get to see, I had one more scene idea close to my heart and so I'm putting it out here because my heart still sings with love for this story and its characters.

These fanscenes now also appear on AO3. Along with the four I've already posted here (1, 2, 3, and 5), you can find a scene I kept off Tumblr ("Ch. 12"). You can read the final scene ("Ch. 17") below, but you can also find it on AO3, where it shows the text messages in graphical form.

Bilv, thank you once again for creating such an amazing story! I'm happy to say that my mind is no longer filled with your middle-aged men and their middle-aged-man problems. Instead, please enjoy these 3k words of pure fluff.

—

Crowley dumped his bag on the hotel room floor and did a lazy spin to take in the space. "Not bad, eh?"

"It's very posh," Newt agreed, setting his bag down more gingerly. "You're sure we can't pitch in for it?"

"I'm not dealing with you setting your phone on fire trying to do a transfer." Crowley waved the offer off and flopped onto the couch. The hotel suite had two small bedrooms plus a nice little sitting area that would be perfect for board games. It was set up to mainly accommodate a family with kids, albeit a family that could afford to splash on a multi-room suite for the family vacation to Spain. Crowley stretched out, shamelessly taking up the whole couch in a bid to ease the stiffness in his hips. "Tell ya what, if you're feeling guilty, you can buy my drinks tonight."

Anathema laughed and gave Crowley a poke in the side, looking quite satisfied at his jerk and yelp. "Knowing you, that will end up being a fair deal. And I'll take care of renting the wheelbarrow to cart you back here."

Crowley rubbed his side dourly. "Maybe I preferred you on the other side of the ocean."

Anathema grinned at him, unrepentant. "If you want to stay at my place while I'm here, I'll lend you my keys." She ducked a thrown pillow with a laugh.

—

The weather was perfect for sipping cocktails outside, and their mutual agreement to all try drinks they'd never had before helped keep the night from slipping away from them too quickly. Being able to chat without the artificial framing of a webcam was a delight, too, but all of them were too continuously connected to be interested in a strict phones-down policy.

Anathema rolled her eyes and took another sip of her drink before answering the text that had just popped up on her screen.

Aziraphale: Are you certain he doesn't know I'm nearby? Anathema: I didn't tell him, Newt doesn't know, and he doesn't have a magical angel-detecting sense does he? Aziraphale: I'm not so sure about that last point. Some of his last texts seem awfully pointed. Anathema: You're being paranoid

Anathema slipped her phone away before leaning over to look at Crowley's phone screen, where he was lining up a very artistic shot of his drink, showcasing as much of the swanky beachfront seating area as possible. She blinked at him slowly. "Have you been sending Aziraphale 'wish you were here' texts?"

Crowley glanced at her sideways, his thumb paused over the shutter button. "Maybe."

Anathema sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Are you an adult who can handle a vacation with friends or are you going to pine after your boyfriend all night?"

"I'm here, aren't I? It's not like we're tied together at the hip."

Anathema shook her head in fond exasperation. "Getting these printed on postcards for him would be funnier than this text spam." Crowley barked out a laugh and sent Aziraphale his next promise to take him here sometime anyway.

Anathema pulled out her phone again, tapping out a quick message.

Anathema: He says he's a full-grown adult who can handle being away from you.

There was a pause before Aziraphale responded to her — probably due to dealing with a barrage of messages from Crowley.

Aziraphale: A very convincing claim.

Anathema looked up as Crowley put his phone away. "All done?"

"Yeah, he's taking an early night." Crowley took a languid sip from his drink.

"How have his workshops been going?" Newt asked, fiddling with a vibrant russet cocktail in a type of glass he couldn't name.

"Good!" Crowley's eyes lit up with excitement, his cheeks pink. "We polished his presentation before he left—"

"I heard about that!" Newt cut in. "He said it was more like beta-testing than beta-reading."

Crowley snorted. "If you want to see what happens when someone goes against the script, I'm your guy."

"The reception's been okay?" Anathema asked. "I know getting audience participation at workshops can be pulling teeth."

"Nahhh, it's different in the library world. Those weirdos actually care about their jobs."

"So do I, but it would be pulling teeth to get me to do a 'group active learning exercise.'"

"Fair." Crowley grinned. "They know how to talk like humans, then. And they really are interested in anyone with tips on how to break into digital spaces in an authentic way."

Newt hummed thoughtfully. "He's really okay with talking about his online presence at work like that? I'd be way too embarrassed."

"Nah, you stop caring about that stuff when you get older."

Anathema snorted. "I'm still saying it's pure luck you didn't chase him offline again with that con nonsense."

"Pfffft." Crowley made a sound that was all plosives and no vowels. "Never even close."

"Right," Anathema replied with tasteful sarcasm.

Crowley cut her teasing short by slapping a yellow canvas pouch down on the table. "C'mon. Let's play a game!"

"Oh, Bananagrams!" Anathema accepted the diversion and unzipped the banana-shaped bag, pouring the Scrabble tiles out between them. She deftly started flipping them letter side down. "I don't think Newt's played?"

Crowley nodded and waggled his fingers at the pile of tiles. "Rules are easy: Everyone's building their own board-free Scrabble grid. You start with 21 tiles. Say 'peel' when you've used yours up to make everyone take another tile from the stock. Say 'dump' to trade one of your tiles for three from the stock. The first person to say 'peel' without enough tiles left for everyone to take one wins. Simple, right?"

Newt nodded slowly, watching as Anathema divided the tiles out neatly. "So they're putting Scrabble in bananas these days."

—

Aziraphale: Is he up yet?

Crowley gestured Anathema towards the table where their phones sat in a cuddly pile of charging pads and wires. "You got a message while you were in the shower. From Aziraphale?"

Anathema kept her face carefully schooled as she sauntered over and picked up her phone, using the need to adjust her towel turban as an excuse for not making eye contact. "Mm." She picked it up and read the incriminating message, then snorted. "Bracing himself for when your wall of texts will start, I imagine."

"Nahhh, he loves it!" Crowley snagged the glasses cleaner out of his bag and sauntered into the bathroom. He'd be wearing them all day and he'd murder someone if he had to deal with the scummy film left by hotel soap.

"Whatever you say, lover boy." Anathema breathed a tired sigh.

Anathema: Yeah, and he saw this. We should be at the conservatory by 11

She should have just taken the phone into the bathroom with her, steam be damned.

—

The botanical conservatory was, frankly, gorgeous. The greenhouses were so large the ceilings weren't even noticeable, and the outdoor gardens were a riot of native plants. Crowley devoured the signs about plants he was unfamiliar with with gusto, and pointed out those he recognized with the enthusiasm of a man determined to prove he wasn't hungover. Newt listened with unfeigned interest, while Anathema wasn't shy about slowing them down to take photos of particularly artfully arranged displays.

They'd been there about half an hour when a patter of English broke through the background chatter of Spanish. "Could you spot me the entrance fee for the butterfly room?"

"Aziraphale!" Crowley immediately spun to his right, his whole face lighting up in delight before realizing that seeing him here was, in fact, quite odd. "What are you doing in Spain?"

"I left right after my last workshop. I thought it might make a nice surprise."

"It made the best surprise." Crowley pulled him into an ardent kiss that went on long enough for Anathema to cough something about public displays of affection. Crowley eventually relented on the kiss, as much for the sake of their breathing as anything else, but kept his arm slung firmly around Aziraphale's shoulders. "You're a bit of a bastard, you know that? I could've been looking forward to this the whole time."

"Only as much of a bastard as you deserve," Aziraphale teased right back with easy familiarity. His heart kept pounding hard anyway.

"Heh. What a way to butter me up while you're angling for a free ticket." Crowley snuck another kiss onto Aziraphale's cheek. Aziraphale laughed as he slipped his arm through Crowley's, relishing the contact after their weeks apart.

The butterfly room, when they got in, was a riot of fluttering wings. The promise of iridescence was enough to get Crowley to remove his sunglasses, and a quiet compliment on his eyes from Aziraphale was enough to get him tucking them into his pocket instead of putting them right back on afterwards.

They left the butterfly room — with some careful mutual inspections to make sure no one was harboring a stowaway, involving perhaps a bit more care in running fingers through another's hair than was strictly necessary for the task — and emerged near the exit to the rose garden. Crowley's hand moved towards his sunglasses but Aziraphale put his hand on his arm. "Just a couple more minutes? There's something I want you to see first." Aziraphale glanced over at Anathema, who nodded slightly but otherwise kept her expression carefully uninterested.

Crowley looked between them and shrugged. "Not exactly subtle as far as hangover tests go, but a'ight." Aziraphale laughed breathlessly and kept a firm grip on his arm, drawing him deeper into the garden.

The rose garden featured small offshoots to the main path where groups could sit for a little while to rest. It wasn't until the third one that they came upon an alcove that was empty, and Aziraphale promptly pulled Crowley aside, Anathema holding out her hand to keep Newt just outside it with her.

"Crowley—" Aziraphale began, his breath catching in his throat as he caught Crowley's full attention. "I, ah. I actually came here because there was something I wanted to say."

Crowley's hand twitched reflexively towards his glasses again, but this time he kept it down himself, even as his heart started to pound. "...yeah?"

"Yeah," Aziraphale breathed out as he sank to one knee, reaching into his pocket. His fingers were trembling, and his smile was nervous but so very adoring. "If I ask you something, will you promise to laugh?"

"—huh?" Crowley blinked in confusion, then stared as Aziraphale opened a jewelry box to reveal a simple ring.

"Anthony J. Crowley, would you be my snouse?"

It took a few seconds for Crowley to register any of the words Aziraphale had just said, but then he barked out a laugh as the last one hit him. "Really? That's how you ask?"

"You don't like it?"

"I just... I thought if you did it, you'd do a whole speech for it. You even brought us out to a rose garden!"

"I'll be honest, I had one of those planned. I just... couldn't quite seem to bring it to mind." Aziraphale had no idea how he was managing to talk even as much as he was around the tightness in his throat. "You haven't answered my question, dear."

"Pfft..." Crowley closed both his hands around Aziraphale's. "Yes. Yes, of course I'll be your... your whatever. Forever and always."

"Thank goodness." Aziraphale half rose and was instead greeted by Crowley also kneeling, both of them moving together for a kiss that was slow and deliberate. Aziraphale could feel the pounding of his own pulse against the tight hold Crowley had on his hands, and he could tell how Crowley's heartrate had risen to match his by the way their kiss kept shifting for quick intakes of air. Aziraphale finally broke the contact only so he could gently extricate his hands from Crowley's. It took every scrap of concentration he could scrape together to find Crowley's left hand and slip the ring onto his finger. "...it fit okay?"

"Nggh," Crowley replied before pulling him into another kiss.

They might have stayed there all day if Anathema hadn't cleared her throat — snapping another quick photo as they looked up at her, flushed and frazzled. "We are still in public, I'm afraid."

"Yeah," Crowley breathed.

"Huh..." Aziraphale added, just as coherently.

Newt shook his head at the unlikely prospect of them getting up anytime soon, and looked over at Anathema instead. "How were you so prepared?"

Anathema flashed him a smile. "I knew this was coming. Aziraphale asked me to take the photos."

"Is that why you're here?"

"It was the other way around," Anathema replied. "Aziraphale realized he could arrange his schedule to join our trip partway, and we worked out how to take advantage of the situation."

"Bastard," Crowley muttered in response to nothing and everything, pressing tender kisses to Aziraphale's left ring finger like he could imprint a ring there with his lips. "Did you measure my finger while I slept?"

Aziraphale smiled as he watched him, his heartrate finally settling closer to normal under Crowley's reassuring touches. "It's scarcely my fault you're so easy to send to sleep, dearest."

"You're ridiculous. Adorable. Incorrigible."

"Are those all synonyms in your mind?" Aziraphale leaned in to steal another kiss.

Crowley laughed breathlessly at how easily they'd returned to comfortable teasing and carefully pushed himself up. He tugged his clothing straighter and tried to pretend he was put-together as he glanced at Anathema, who was grinning unabashedly at them. "I'll want those pics for... for everything. All of them."

Aziraphale put his hand on Crowley's arm for support as he straightened his own creaking knees. "I'm claiming Tumblr first, if you don't mind."

"Eh—" Crowley gave him his full attention again, not that it had strayed for more than a moment. "This will really get you notice, Angel."

"Good." Aziraphale took Crowley's hand and leaned in to kiss him. He rubbed his fingertip over the ring settled firmly onto a finger that had never borne one before. "Let them know who's claimed you."

Crowley snaked his arm around Aziraphale's neck, chasing down another kiss that went on long enough to have Anathema clucking behind them. "We're gonna get kicked out of the garden, Angel."

Aziraphale smiled against Crowley's lips. "Let them. The one we made is better."

—

Three bottles of wine sat open and mostly-drunk on the table, divided between four glasses that were using the remnants of the previous night's game of The Quiet Year as a coaster. ("We set it in an idyllic countryside and it all went downhill from there," Crowley had explained when Aziraphale came in and started examining the hand-drawn map. "I think the arrival of the dog was the real turning point to madness," Newt had chimed in. "It was doomed from the start," Anathema declared with a resigned sigh.) The red rings of wine stains could have added as much to the group narrative as anything they'd purposefully drawn.

"I came in like a wrecking ball~! I never hit so hard in love~!" Newt sang raucously, a broad grin on his face while Anathema laughed into her hand. Aziraphale tilted his head as he watched them, visibly processing the music.

"All the other kids with their pumped-up kicks, you better run—!" Anathema joined in as the tune jauntily transitioned to a new melody. Aziraphale's face froze into an expression of fond but intense confusion.

"Problem, Angel?" Crowley drawled, utterly amused as he watched the tableau.

"I'm fairly certain that isn't how those songs go. And isn't that polka?"

"Never heard of Weird Al? Bit bigger overseas, I s'pose." He gestured to Anathema's phone, which was supplying the impromptu karaoke party.

Aziraphale nodded, confusion dissolving and leaving just a hint of distaste in its place. "And a different generation, I suppose." He took another sip of his wine, a nice Syrah, as the melody shifted to a new and equally abrasive polka.

"I wear your granddad's clothes," the millennials continued singing, until one of them glanced at Aziraphale and started laughing and the other followed suit, wineglass held out in an attempt to insulate it from deep belly laughs. Crowley snagged it deftly and set it on the table, another drop of wine rolling down to stain the paper there. Aziraphale rolled his eyes, much more amused at their drunken good humor than offended.

Crowley patted Aziraphale's thigh. "Want to take the rest of that Syrah back to my room and leave the loverbirds to it?"

"It would still be rather noisy if we stayed here," Aziraphale replied with a tempting smile. "Why don't you come back to mine?"

Crowley leaned forward eagerly, only a fraction away from jumping up at the unexpected invitation. "Oh?"

"Well, the room may not wind up being quite as nice as the one you got, but I thought for our first night together as a formally promised couple..." Aziraphale's smile said everything.

"You're a genius." Crowley kissed his cheek and grabbed Aziraphale's hand to pull him up with him, then firmly refused to let it go despite the challenge of tucking a wine bottle under his arm while juggling a wine glass and his phone.

Aziraphale laughed. "We can take two trips, since you'll want your bag. Did you leave it packed?"

"Like always." Crowley grinned. "Not going to rib on me for that ever again, huh?"

"One occasion of convenience is not worth the wrinkles, my dear," Aziraphale responded with all the primness he could muster around a wide grin.

Crowley laughed and took the opportunity of Aziraphale opening the hotel room door to crowd closer and steal an eager kiss that was just as eagerly given. "You really managed to hold in that you'd gotten us a room all day?"

"I kept the trip secret from you too, didn't I?"

"Age will not wither," Crowley chuckled and nipped Aziraphale's ear. "C'mon, let's see that room. Coming back for pyjamas optional."

The two of them left the hotel suite hand-in-hand, with everything they truly needed already right there with them.

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #bnf au #ineffable husbands #fanfiction of fanfiction #my writing #middle-aged men and their middle-aged-man joy

[anadiasmount]

star night - jb blurb

masterlist | jude's masterlist

psa 🗣️: wow. what a week of ucl football! congratulations to all the teams that qualified 🤍 here's a tiny blurb with jude after his win yesterday as requested!! so proud of this man guys i can't :((

the strands on the bottom of your scarf had become your best friend throughout the game. making small knots or twisting strands together. nervous was one way to describe how you felt, but the huge bubble and pit in your tummy said more. covering your eyes when attempted goals were made, and gasping out reliefs when they were saved.

it was a total of 120 minutes, played, and in the end, penalties would determine who would advance. your eyes were glued onto the familiar tall figure, the 5 on the back, the one player who proved their worth after many talks and banters. you could tell he was tired, though he gave it his all.

the stadium went quiet for you, and all you heard was the rapid pulse in your veins as seconds passed. agony, cheers, tears, and laughter. it felt surreal, time went slow, and all you could focus on was him celebrating on the pitch, brown eyes gleaming with delight and relief as his team passed onto the next round.

he was over the moon, clapping, dancing, singing, hugging his teammates, just overridden with emotion. your eyes locked almost immediately, jude not being able to hide a big smile on his lips when seeing you. you waited by the rails, holding a towel and a jacket for him.

jude engulfed you into a tight and rushed hug, out of breath from running on pure adrenaline. you could feel the rapid heartbeat of his against your chest, his jersey clanging tight after running all evening. you laughed, cleaning his neck, sides, and face that glistened with sweat. "we did it baby... we did it," was all jude said as he leaned his forehead onto yours.

you held his face, kissing the bridge of his nose, "you did my love. i'm so so proud of you, look around and take it all in." jude couldn't help but dig into your neck, shoulders shaking as he let himself full relax against you. you could hear a small sniffle, jude pulling back, your thumbs catching the tears, and wiping them away from his pretty face. "i can't- i don't know how to feel. it happened so fast!" exclaimed your boyfriend in disbelief.

"what matters is that you did it, all the way to the end. you made history here tonight, keep it in here," you touched his temple, "and feel it here," placing your palm over his heart. "i love you y/n so much," he relished your love, wanting to stay here with you and never go back. he would die a happy man after this moment. "thank you for being with every time, between the good in the bad. you're the best thing that has ever happened to me, pretty girl."

neither of you could care less about the cameras, stares, or shouts from fans. this was his moment with you, and jude had just that. you held the back of his head, thumb brushing his nape, as all you could do was stare deep into each other's eyes with smiles as if you were kids at a candy store. "kiss me, kiss me y/n," pleaded your boyfriend, closing his watery eyes as you pulled him into a welcoming kiss.

lips molding as you let every sentiment of stress and anxiety from the game fly away. tasting his minty scent, as he deepened the kiss, his hand wrapped around your waist, and one holding your face, just like in the movies, except this was reality. you pulled back and kissed all over his face, jude shutting his eyes tight and crinkling his nose in bliss as you congratulated him.

"congratulations my golden boy."

#judey thoughts 5️⃣ #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham imagine

[pupyr0arz]

thinking about obsessive Gaz still…him being a bit of a weird bff. Male reader.

It’s not a shrine. Shrines are childish, weird things built by freaks who obsess over people, complete creeps who probably have bones in their closets and lick printouts. It’s….a refuse drawer, that happens to have acquired a theme. Not even a collection, that would imply Kyle was being deliberate, which he isn’t. He’s only keeping your things so he can return them, but he can’t exactly show up at your house with just a toothbrush now, can he? It’s only polite, and he’s sure when he finally has enough knicknacks you’ll smile and pat Kyle on the cheek like you always do when you’re pleased and somehow manage to get away with it without being condescending. Maybe even knock your heads together, like you do when you’re sleepy and staying over for a movie, giving him long molasses moments with his nose to yours. He isn’t some weirdo following some girl around and stealing her panties. Kyle hasn’t touched a pair of your boxers, though he hasn’t been able to get you to stay more than one night. He thumbs over Ghost’s contact in his phone and thinks about crime statistics a normal amount.

He doesn’t have a drawer for Johnny or his other guy friends because they’re assholes, that’s all. You’re just his nice friend, the one who smiles and genuinely talks about your life and encourages him to be soft and sweet and buttery instead of raucous and harsh. Kyle wants to smooth his rough edges in your presence, wants to charm you and see things how you do, he wants his ladykiller smile to soften to something genuine. That involves picking up the things you leave behind with a pure kind and full intentions to return them, not in some creepy, awful manner that would make you call him gross and shut the door in his face.

Kyle is a considerate friend to you, dutiful and generous. When you’re hurrying out of the door, one foot in a hangover, he passes you the closest jacket. It’s his, by sheer coincidence, his rack is solely his own clothes, and yours had gone missing from atop the couch mysteriously during the night. Kyle doesn’t mention folding it and tucking it away, it’s his right to have a clean home and he’s a good host tidying up after his guest. He pretends to find it a half hour after you’ve left, ensuring the temptation to use it as an excuse to catch up to you or drop by and steal an extra conversation. Sometimes he struggles with long term rewards over the short term, and you’re no help. It’s the lottery ticket in your pocket, he’s discussing to himself, what else could he be speaking about? He considers laundry for half a second, holding the jacket tightly in his hands. It smells like you more than the deodorant does, deeper, and Kyle decides he shouldn’t make assumptions about your clothes. What if it’s dry clean only, or he uses the wrong temperature setting and ruins it? It’d be rude to assume your nondescript hoodie isn’t anything special to you. He picks up the glasses both of you had used and if he forgets to wash yours before he takes a sip, he’s a bachelor living alone and can blame it on habit.

Kyle likes inviting you over more than he likes going over to yours. Your apartment isn’t far, and it isn’t ugly or overly cramped, and you are never anything but an angel to him there, but Kyle needs sleep and he finds himself face down on your couch, staring into the black all night. Or wandering home, restless and chewing his fingers bloody for hours afterwards. He’s so antsy in a room filled with nothing but you and your things. He catches his fingers in a door once out of impulse, trying desperately to shove away the urge to pick up a little statuette from some sudden uncontrollable kleptomaniac urge, and you notice and fuss and soothe and suddenly he has the desperate urge to smash something and take it to his skin and he wonders if you would stitch it together and kiss it afterwards. Kyle keeps the bandage. He sits on the couch and stares through the tv and thinks about it and he can’t bring himself to look at you because if he does, that unnamed, unknowable buzzing under his skin promises something and he’s too scared of himself to find out.

In his apartment it’s better. Kyle can cling to himself, a better man, a good man, when it’s soft and more controlled. You’re comfortable among his things and he doesn’t feel the drive to take the place around him apart. It feels like someone has taken a hot knife to him when you leave, which is fine. He counts the days before it’s too needy and strange to ask again. When he gives you back the hoodie, it smells like the two of you and he fibs about finding it under the couch while cleaning. Kyle digs his nails into his arm under the coffee table when you ask about his day and he wonders wildly if you knew about it. He wants to show you the marks on his arm, prick tears into his eyes and have you soothe him, but Kyle knows better than that. He doesn’t have a response to your inevitable questions. It’s not weird for him to want to seek the affection either. He’s like everybody else in this, starved for attention and cradling the source of it. He’s just smart enough to not grip too tightly and bruise you.

#.bark #gaz #gaz x reader #cod x reader #male reader #cod x male reader #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #cod #kyle gaz x you #gaz x you #writing #snippet #This is poorly paced and nonsensical? Well it’s just me exploring a characterization so there #<- said in a ‘avoiding writing a plot voice’

[ravengards-rogue]

i lose control (when you're not next to me.)

javier escuella x reader

✧ tags : afab + fem!reader (gendered language + wearing dresses etc), established relationship, religious imagery (maybe sacrilege)takes place in ch.4 of rdr2, submissive!reader, soft dom!javier, some spanish petnames (mi amor mi vida, and hermosa i think), pillowing humping, penetration, very lovesick sex lol, veryy established dynamic, praise kink, written like. sooo explicitly for @nanamimizz, 18+

✧ wc : 5.2k (after editing mind you)

✧ a/n : this is fucking nuts LMAOO. i wrote this like. no bullshit in a day. i don't know how that happened. mentioned in the tags that this is for my beloved best friend but i think it's still okay to post. im losing it a little. i have hw due in an hour

✧ synopsis : javier can't help but feel some ways about the way you miss him. so dreadfully obedient. so apparently needy. how could he not adore you?

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

There’s something a little pathetic in the way you pine after Javier that makes him a worse man than he is. 

He’s good to you though. Always. Down to his bones, the core of him. The soul of him. It’s hard to be anything but good to you. 

In all of his life, across lovers, men and women - he doesn’t think he’s met a single soul who simply likes him as much as you do. Who preens so pretty with so little, who doesn’t need much at all. Never met a woman who tucks and folds herself into corners just to be polite. Never thought he’d find it so fascinating, either - but you prove him wrong often. 

It’s testament to Javier’s adoration that he can’t help but notice you anyway. That even when your featherlight footsteps and darling voice fall off and get caught on the wind and blown away - Javier will still manage to find you. Even with all of your attempts to make yourself small and unrecognizable, his sharp brown eyes will still catch on the linen of your skirts and the threaded gold of your cross necklace. Javier’s own body betrays him in his love for you, in his wanting. 

Even though he’s not interested in pretending he doesn’t love you, his eyes and mouth and hands would look and call and search. They’d never give him the opportunity to be anything but in love. 

It’s important that he makes that known. He’s only ever interested in being a good man to you. Holding you and kissing you and worshiping you until you’re melty between his fingers. Javier loves loving the resistance out of you and you always make it so easy for him. 

He’s a good lover by nature and by practice. Passionate and maybe a little conceited, it’s not his first brush with romantics. He can only hope it’ll be his last. 

Even so, he’s never been liked the way you like him. 

You like Javier in a way you seem embarrassed by when you remember. It causes you to act in ways out of character on the surface, emboldened. Maybe just needy. Enough to bask in his praise and affection once a little liquor has touched your mouth. You like Javier in a way that makes you lovesick and puppylike, all honeyed gazes and pouty lips. He’s never met somebody who likes him the way you do, without grandstanding. Just pure, puppy love. Almost innocent if you don’t look too long. 

Almost being what matters most. 

Javier knows the way you were raised, after all. Knows the intimate ways in which you fold yourself and tuck your wants between the pages of your diary and slip your requests under your tongue. It’s hard for you to want for anything too much because you’ve been told your whole life that wanting at all is a sin. Wanting may even get you killed. A good woman should want nothing but salvation. Anything more than that is indulgence and there’s nothing good about that. It translates in the way you carry yourself. You’ll stop and fumble and shy away before even fixing your lips to ask, like you’re planning on being rejected or told no. 

A good girl like you being told no so often, it’s made you all sacrifice and empty prayers. Javier often feels grief about your lives before each other but nothing makes it so evident as that. A good woman, a beautiful and kind and soft one like you should never hear the words no without the best of reasons. That’s what Javier believes for all of his lovers, but you’re special. 

And that makes it worse. 

For you he’d do anything. No price he wouldn’t pay, no place he wouldn’t go, nothing that’s too far out of his reach. He thinks maybe he’s so eager to give it to you because he knows you don’t have it in you to take it yourself. You won’t whine greedily even if Javier tells you too, so Javier’s giving is only a partial virtue. It’s mostly pride, after all. It hurts his ego a little when you refuse to bask in the love he so enthusiastically wants to drown you in. 

Despite his complaints though, it’s a part of you that makes him so weak to you. That you want with such desperation but don’t allow yourself to take - so it makes you pliant and willing and terribly, adorably pathetic. You’re so weak for Javier. Just for him, you always say. Always with a hand in his, or wrapped around his bicep. All yours, Javi. Always his. 

That’s the thing. Javier wants to give everything in the world to you. He wants to be good to you, and he so often is. But you do things sometimes, all collapsed under the weight of your own desire that drive him insane. Make him act in ways he normally wouldn’t dream of doing. Depraved and filthy and unromantic in all senses of the word. 

It’s really not very polite for Javier to stand and watch you at his door - humping his pillow with weeps and huffs. It’s not kind to embarrass you. He’s a good man, and a good man would cover you with his coat and maybe smile about how much you care for him. 

But there’s just something about the look on your face when you do it, something about the tear stains in your lashes and the way your cheek is pressed in his jacket. Something about that needy, incessant little ache in your voice as you call and call and call for him. As if you’re hoping you’ll answer despite him not being there.

Javier is a good man to you. Maybe he could be better. Maybe he’s not good enough.  

He stands in the doorway of your shared bedroom with a soft, gentle grin. There’s no question he’s behaving a worse man than he is. Than he ought to be. 

He’s quiet as he shuts the door, balancing his weight to remain noiseless. 

Javier doesn’t particularly like being all the way out in Saint Denis nor is he fond of intel missions. The city is loud, the people unfriendly - though he likes the music and art. He prefers staying in camp if he can help it, but this big bank heist has everyone busy. He’s at least thankful that it’s given him an excuse to be with you. Your knowledge of herbs and poisons and the like have been helpful to gathering information. Been a lot of slipping things in drinks and making people forget. The sort of dirty work he’s accustomed too, while also getting a chance to be with you in a place with four walls and a bath. A dream for the future, maybe. 

It’s been nice, but he’s been out now for two days - out in the streets gathering information about Bronte’s people. A bunch of lowlifes just like them, but with their hands in the pocket of the city. He’s only been gone for two days, so there’s no reason you should miss him this much. And yet he hears it anyway. And it pleases him, truthfully. 

He takes off his coat as he listens to you at the doorway. Shrugs the middle-weight material of his sheen suit jacket over his shoulders and lays it on a chair, takes off his wingtip-gaiter shoes, undoes the yellow puff tie from around his neck. Nothing but a white linen dress shirt and the dark black slacks he’s been wearing for days now, some parts covered in bloodstains he only barely managed to wash out in the river not long ago. 

He’s thankful he took a bath before getting in now, listening to you moan. His hands being clean feel like a blessing - just his luck. 

He manages to remain quiet as he steps into the main room - a single bed in the center. Javier finds you there in a heap as he rests his body along the wall of the entrance to his right. He crosses his arms over his chest as he takes a minute to take in the scenery, admiring the soft lowlights and the way they cast shadow on your body. 

The wooden bed frame creaks slightly as you rut your hips. You’re out of it, Javier can tell, since you’ve yet to sense the fact he’s come in. The paintings along the back wall click against soft red walls themselves, over and over in an arrhythmic tic. Javier tries not to laugh. Gives himself a minute to admire the moment for what it is, the vulnerable desperation of your lust. He has to get over the disbelief, too. Over the fact your face is buried in the open part of his bluecoat and that you’ve got a hotel pillow(his hotel pillow) between your legs. One that you’re humping so frantically he can’t help but feel sorry for you. 

You’re making a mess.

You are a mess. The way the white chemise falls over your back and hips, and the lack of finesse in your gestures. If Javier had to bet money on it - he’d bet money on the fact you probably didn’t start this way. He figures you nested with his coat and pillow to go to sleep and then worked yourself into something senseless and desperate. And he’d figure if he didn’t show up, you wouldn’t cum at all. You’d go to bed all frustrated and tired and just wait for him like always. 

Any man would be pleased by it, he thinks. And a good one would never embarrass you about it. Javier tries his best. Weighs his options, but the words slip from his mouth before he can think to stop them. 

Pure elation in his words wrapped up in a smug delight. “Aye, hermosa - you’re gonna ruin my things you know?” 

Your reaction is what he expects. You jump out of your skin first, sitting straight up. Javier bites back a laugh as you do, big wide eyes like a deer caught in the scope of a rifle. You look around the room, worried you’re imagining him. Once you’ve come back to reality enough to realize he’s real and tangible - all the neediness washes right back into your expression. 

“Javier,” You sniffle and god. Javier hopes the heavens are more merciful to him than he is to you. “Javi,” 

“I’m home,” He voices in a partial tease, walking towards you. He can tell you want to run to him. To crawl into his arms and lap and collapse there forever, but the dull throbbing between your legs is stopping you. “I would ask if you missed me but, somehow I get the feeling you did.” 

You let out a soft, sniffly whine as Javier sits in the bed next to you. He turns his body to face you a little better but keeps distance. You turn your face towards him. Javier cups your cheek in his palm, eyes tracing your features. Your lips are bruised like you’ve been biting on them to keep the noise down and your eyes are wet with tears, red stained in the waterline. His thumb brushes along the thin skin of your lower lip, clicking his teeth at you. 

“Look at you,” He reprimands, his voice tender as he leans in to give you a little relief. You kiss Javier too eagerly, impatient and lacking your usual timidness. It’s how he knows how far you’ve fallen. How simple and easy your reactions are. “You’re going to hurt yourself pushing so desperately,” He laughs again, a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Does it feel good, at least?” 

“It’s better when you do it,” You admit, falling forward. Javier doesn’t let you drop, but he doesn’t comfort you right away either. He laughs and lets a hand rest on your lower back, relishing in your reaction. You shiver, sensitive and overstimulated with so little at all. 

“I know,” He coos with as much faux-sympathy as he can manage. “Couldn’t wait for me a little longer? I’m hurt.”

“Nooo,” You draw the words out, pitiful and upset “I’m sorry. I missed you,” 

“It’s okay,” Javier says, knowing he wasn’t mad in the first place. Not even a little. “Ahh, what should I do with you now, do you think?” 

It’s hard not to laugh at the immediate noise of disapproval. He’s sure you’d be able to ask him for what you want if he coaxed you into it. One whispered word of tell me what you want, and you’d be begging for his cock with ease. Filthy words from such a pretty mouth, he likes the idea. 

But he’s feeling… something. Something on the border of sadistic and loving that has him instead thinking. 

Pretending to think. 

“Maybe you should keep going, hm? You’ll think clearer once you’ve let it out, don’t you think?” 

“I can’t,” You bemoan, pleading with him. “I’m trying but it’s—it’s not enough, Javier, please.” 

He shakes his head. “Oh, man. What am I gonna do with you? Should I help you, mi amor?” 

You nod your head rapidly. As if he’d ever leave you out to dry when you look all pretty helpless. He doesn’t mention it to you. “Please,” 

“Yeah? I’ll help you then.” He offers, taking your hand and guiding you to his lap with his legs stretched out. He sits you over his thighs, glancing back at his jacket and pillow, brows raised when he sees how sticky they both are. Your habit of drooling and your cunt soaking his pillow case, he laughs just a little seeing the state of them. You must notice because you hit his shoulders weakly. “So needy,” 

“Javier.” 

“Alright, alright,” He laughs again, kissing your cheek as he brings you to him. You frown but comply with his handling of you, strong hands pulling you over his thigh. He sits you down until your bare cunt is pressed against the clothed muscle. It dawns on you what he’s doing as he’s doing it, a noisy little whimper sounding as Javier pulls you close. Close enough to wrap your arms around his neck. He puts a hand on the back of your head, encouraging you to bury his face into the space of his shoulder. He can feel the relief in you when you do, slumping into him a second time today. “You have to move on your own, you know? I won’t help you.” 

“You’re being awful,” You say with no real malice or bite. 

“I’m a little hurt, that’s all. And I’m helping you aren’t I? Is that not what you want?” 

You groan against the skin of his neck. “I want your…ngh,” 

He hums against you, decides to be merciful since he’s teased you plenty and he’s going to tease you more. 

“Wanna feel me right here, don’t you?” He puts a hand between your bodies, pressing the back of his hand into your stomach. “I know, I know. But I want you to cum like this first.”

“Can’t do it by myself,” You sniffle. Don’t even try to push back, so obedient and willing. Javier hums sympathetically. 

“I’m here right? I’ll help you, mi vida. I’m not that mean, am I?” 

You shake your head no. He most definitely is, but maybe he can keep that a secret from you a little longer. 

“Here,” He says. Javier pulls your chemise up until it’s pooling at your waist. Strong, tan hands hold at your hips, squeezing the soft skin with a warm sigh. You keen immediately. He pushes his thigh up just slightly to give you the right kind of friction. Hiccuping in his lap, he sets a pace for you to grind yourself on him. A slower back and forth. When you get too wet, too needy - you get sloppy. Sometimes he can give it to you hard and fast but you’re sensitive. Sensitive to the point it’s easy to make you hurt, make yourself hurt if you’re too clumsy. 

You’re always chasing pleasure but you don’t know anything about build-up. For a girl who tends to keep to herself and is always so meticulous - there’s something about seeing you get so sloppy that turns Javier on. When you’re wet and can’t think straight “Not too fast, okay? You’re sensitive, need it slow at first to make it feel good if it’s like this. Did you forget?” 

You nod, then moan hotly against his throat. Javier shivers at the way your tune changes. He can feel you breathe in his scent and relax as he guides your hips. He eventually stops touching you. Lets you take control of the pace just like he shows you. You manage to pace yourself despite how much you want to cum. Javier can feel how pent up you are. The fabric of his slacks going sticky, tacky from cum and arousal. 

You smell nice and soft, like baby powder and something floral. 

Javier’s been hard since he got in the door, but it’s starting to fog his mind up. Feeling your tits press against his chest, feeling your skin against his. Soft and pliant and beautiful. He kisses against your shoulders as you slowly start to build your orgasm up again. Not that it’s hard. 

You pull away from him, briefly - and your face makes his dick twitch. You’re always pretty but you’re especially pretty like this. Drool drips from the corners of your mouth, eyes lidded and barely blinking.

“Javi,” Your words are slurred. Javier laughs but doesn’t clean you up. “Kiss me,” 

“Sure,” He replies, though he’s all too happy to do it. Javier kisses you with tongue. He knows it’s what you want. Your hands curl up at his chest as he brings his own to cup your head and pull you to him. His tongue in your mouth is invasive but precise, knowing all the ways you want him to nip and kiss and suck on your mouth. You whine in complete pleasure, drunk from the sensation and he’s hardly touched you at all. 

He thinks of how he’ll fuck you as he kisses you. He’ll touch you more than he is now and you’ll fuck like lovesick rabbits until sunrise. It’s less something Javier decides and more something he knows. Like once he opens the door to pleasing you like this, it’ll be tough on him to close it again. 

“Javi,” You keep calling his name. It might be the only word you remember. Always seems to be when you get like this. “It feels so good. Feels so good when you touch me,” 

Javier kisses against your bare shoulder and neck, teeth scraping soft against your clavicles. “Mm. You’re doing well. A very good girl today,” 

You shudder at the praise, all the hairs on your neck raising from the drop of it. Javier laughs. You whine his name again but he doesn’t reply. He can feel you more than he can see you. Your body is twitching against his thigh and your muscles are tight where you hug against him. Javier calms you. 

“Gonna cum soon, huh?” 

You nod over and over, but can barely keep your head up to do it. And he laughs, full of fondness and affection as he peppers your face with kisses. He doesn’t have it in him suddenly, to tease you about it any more. He encourages you instead, hand on your hips to give you more friction as you start to grow erratic in your breathing. You pant hard against his ear, like you’re chasing something. Little bunny rabbit, he thinks. Your voice is little more than a croak. 

“Oh,” You moan, loud and helpless and needy as you cling to him. Your hands fisted in the back of his shirt as you cry out his name one more time. A prayer, maybe. Or a curse. Something in between. “Javier, oh,” 

“Shhh, that’s it. Just like that. Good girl. You’re so good to me.” 

You weep into his neck as you cum, your whole body tightening before breaking out into aroused shakes. You’ve completely lost it in front of him. On the brink of insanity with nothing but pleasure filling your empty-head. You hump against him thoughtlessly as you ride out your high, then finally lean against him when you’ve managed to reach the end of it. You don’t move. Javier can feel how big the wet patch of his pants has grown and tries not to laugh. 

You’re only barely coherent when you’ve finally pulled away. Your pupils are blown out and your face is flushed, sweat making your hair stick to your skin in the places it’s not tucked away. Javier laughs at the state you’re in, brushing his thumb along your cheek just beneath your eyes. 

“Are you with me still, do you think?” 

You nod, seemingly exhausted. He laughs again and kisses your temple. 

“Want you,” You say, despite your state. His eyes widen again at how soon after you’re asking him. He was planning on taking his time, but that plan might just be out of the race. He’s not above you begging him so sweetly. “Please, Javi. Need you, need you so bad.” 

You sound like you’re about to cry. He speaks in soft murmurs. “I thought you’d be too tired to keep going right away.” 

“No,” You mumble and shake your head. “Please. Please, want you so bad.” 

“You’re exhausted, mi vida.” 

“Please,” 

He chuckles. “Okay. Okay, don’t cry. Whatever you want, remember. Unbutton my shirt for me, mi amor.” 

You sniffle, your hands shaking as you fulfill his request. You’re exceptional at listening. Javier smiles at you, your eyes meeting as you do. You flush and pout, only barely managing to maintain his gaze without looking away. You unbutton his shirt dutifully. He puts a hand on your arm and rubs it soothingly. “You must’ve missed me a lot, huh.” 

You nod. “It’s bad, you know? Two days shouldn’t feel so long. It didn’t use too.” 

“Just means we love each other,” Javier assures, a safe place for you to express your neediness. “That’s nothing bad,” 

You nod, pressing your forehead to his. “That’s true,” 

“See? And it’s nice you know. Having someone miss me. Wait for me. Makes me want to come home instead of, I don’t know.” He feels his throat tighten at the sincerity but pushes through anyway “Dying for the cause. Or even just because.” 

It’s the first time you’ve smiled all day and god. Might be the only thing that’s ever mattered. Above all forms of love prior and past. Above revolution. Above god. Just you. You smile, happy and elated and keep unbuttoning his shirt with a coquettish-ness to you. Comfortable and safe. 

You help Javier out of his shirt, and wait for his approval to go after his pants. Undoing the buttons, you free his cock from the confines with a soft gasp. Javier laughs at the reaction, cat-like grin on his features. 

“Nothing you haven’t seen before.”  

“It’s so big,” You say, your hand wrapping around it briefly. Javier swears, head against the headboard. 

“Careful,” He warns, laughing thickly. “I’m pretty pent up too,” 

“Want it inside me,” You say so easily it startles him. You blink up at him through your lashes, too pretty for your own good. “Please?” 

“Should open you up a little.” 

“Want it to hurt,” You reply instantly. Javier feels his breath hitch. 

“Oh, fuck.” He breathes, trying to keep himself from cumming in your hands. “We’ll go slow.”

You nod quickly, not wanting to wait any longer. Javier curses himself for not being more polite. 

He guides your arms around his neck, his own arm around your waist as he lays you down on your back. You look up at him, surprised by his handling of you but not upset by it all. You mumble something he doesn’t catch, but it sounds pleased. 

Javier finds that he’s fond of missionary. He didn’t think he was the type, but there’s something about seeing you laid on your back that he likes. Likes being able to look at you and be close to you, to whisper sweet nothings in your ear as you curl into him. He lays you down gently on his spine, laughing at the way your legs wrap around his waist the second you’re comfortable. His hands go up under your knees but don’t push you too far. You spread your legs for him naturally, eyes fluttering with exhaustion and leftover stupid want. He looks down at you and smiles. 

“One more, okay? Just the one.” 

“I can’t,” You whine “Too sensitive. Just want you to cum on me,” 

“Are you doubting me?” He challenges, only partially. Your eyes widen and he chuckles. “Of course you can. One more,” 

You whimper, suddenly realizing you had no choice in the first place. But you nod, relenting to him like you so often do. Javier kisses you. It means more things that he’s comfortable telling. Means thank you, and that he’s sorry, that he loves you. He kisses you one more time after that, and smiles at how happy you seem because of it.

Finally, when Javier lays you down on the sheets beneath you - it feels like finding religion all over again. The loose material of your chemise has given up on covering you, exposing the soft mound of your chest and hardened nipples. He can see your neck and shoulders and everything else above and below. You’re so beautiful his cock twitches again, hard. 

He sits back up on his knees and takes a deep breath as he lays his cock against your puffy folds. You breathe soft, an aching sound from the back of your throat as you pull your skirt up to give him better access. He laughs gently at that, examining how nearly seven inches measures up to you and feels a little dizzy in the process of it. He’s done this with you so many times now, practically trained your body to take him without too much trouble. A welcome change from when you could barely fit the tip, too inexperienced to do it but even more determined. 

Even still some part of him worries about it. It’s not enough to stop him though, not nearly. His cock twitches against hard, wanting for you. He looks down at you and sees you stare up, admiring his figure. He laughs. 

“Like the view?” 

You nod. “Mm. Uh-huh.” 

“I’m glad,” He replies, then adds “Deep breath,” 

So you take a deep breath, and Javier pushes the tip of his cock into you with a loud grunt. You’re so soft. Wet, and pliant and soft around the swollen head of his cock, he can’t help but shudder with relief and desire. Can’t help but grit his teeth and grip onto your hips to steady himself. 

You breathe like the air has been punched out of your lungs, saying his name dreamily. “Oh, Javi,” 

He swears under his breath, something incoherent as he pushes the tip push into you evenly. It’s not easy. The resistance is there, but you don’t whine in pain right way - so it means it’s not too hard on you. Perhaps loosened by the previous orgasm, or simply so needy that it doesn’t bug you. Still, Javier makes sure to keep himself tight. He rocks, back and forth, ignoring the agony of that sensation to keep him from thrusting up into your soft, welcoming cunt. If he listened to what he wanted, he can’t be confident it wouldn’t make you ache. He already knows you will with this much. 

It takes a few minutes, and some whimpering from you before he finally manages to bottom out. 

You feel good. God, you feel good. 

He can’t imagine heaven, but he thinks being inside of you might be close enough. There’s certainly all the makings of religion when he makes love to you. You, a soft and loving deity, and him - a man laden with sin who longs to be saved. It makes sense to compare you that way. And it feels just as euphoric as the always described, being wrapped in you. Being part of your completion. What's religion without worshippers, anyway? 

Javier groans as he bottoms out inside of. When he manages to peel his eyes open and look at you, you’re debauched. He’s debased you this completely and he doesn’t know if you can even tell. He laughs, leaning down to kiss your neck and run pecks against your jaw. 

“Feel good?” 

“Feels so good,” You moan, then hold him tighter. “I love you. Love you Javier,” 

“Me too, mi amor. Para siempre. ” He hums, kissing your forehead before looking at you. “Can I move?” 

“Please,” 

“Touch yourself for me,” He tells you patiently. “Make yourself feel good.” 

You nod, dazed - a hand between your bodies as Javier sets a pace to fuck you. He knows you in and out. At least well enough to know exactly the ways to make you feel good. Only a few thrusts for him to find the perfect pace, perfect rhythm, perfect spot. You make a noise like a songbird, deep in the back of your throat and Javier can feel you pulse around him in pleasure. 

You stay like that, with him. Javier fucks you to his hearts content in deep, long thrusts - angled against the softest parts of you and wanting to make you feel good. He whispers sweet nothings as your nails dig into the muscle of his back. You feel good for him. You are good for him, wet and perfect. It takes all of his strength to fuck you consistently, the bed rocking underneath you both as he gives it to you hard. 

“I’m close,” You whimper, not seeming to believe yourself despite. “I’m so close, oh god, Javier.” 

“That’s it,” He whispers, chuckling against your skin “One more. Just one more and I’ll give it to you.” 

It’s the promise of his cum that drives you over the edge. You gasp and groan, shuddering as Javier pounds you through your second orgasms. He groans as he feels your pussy spasm and tighten around him, practically begging him to put it inside. He’s nearly lost his sense enough to do it, unhelped by the way your sweet voice begs him for it. He practically has to pry himself away from you, out of you to keep himself from cumming inside as deep as he can possibly go. 

He manages, barely, to stave off his own orgasm. Long enough pull himself out of you with a broken gasp and cum outside of you. Making a mess of your stomach and your soft, swollen cunt with his seed. He paints you in thick ropes of whites as he swears loud in the process, euphoria rumbling through him uninterrupted. 

“Fuck,” He moans, finally getting to the end of it. A little embarrassed by how much of a mess he’s made right along with you. “You do something crazy to me, you know that?” 

You stare at him, bleary eyed and giggly despite your exhaustion. “I know. Me too. I missed you,” 

He laughs, and can’t find the words to say anything but the same back. Of course Javier is a worse man when you’re around. 

Any man loved this much is bound to be a little ruined. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

#javier escuella x reader #javier escuella smut #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 smut #red dead redemption 2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 smut #rogues love letters

[jessicaloons]

Chapter 40:

And some things you just can’t speak about…

Masterlist - Previous - Next

TW: Miscarriage

Charles POV:

I felt my phone vibrate for the third time, while trying to focus on the questions, wondering what was going on. As soon as Tom Clarkson ended the press conference I stormed outside, taking my phone out. Multiple missed calls from JK. I called him back immediately, a sickening feeling in my stomach.

"What’s going on, JK?" I asked when he picked up.

"Lizzie ran away." JK answered and I was confused.

"What do you mean, Lizzie ran away? Where are you?" I asked, panic starting to overcome me.

"I don’t know what happened. She ran off in the middle of her interview. She’s gone. All of her stuff is still here. But she’s gone. And she’s not picking up her phone either!"

"I’m coming to you…"

"I’m already here…" JK stood in front of me all of a sudden.

"But… she wouldn’t just leave?"

"Julie said that she said 'Fuck this shit. I’m done.' and then left. She’s not at her garage or hospitality. All her stuff was still there, but she’s gone."

"Why did she run away? She wouldn’t just say fuck it and leave for no reason?"

"She was in the middle of an interview and then she left…"

"I bet my ass it was a Spanish outlet." I said and JK nodded "I should’ve said something. Set the record straight. Fuck."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"She didn’t just punch Sainz for no reason, who does that anyways? He said that I should learn how to tame my bitch." I grit out and he looked at me with big eyes and a look of pure disgust on his face.

"Asshole."

"I know… but now I need to find her!"

"Try your hotel. I think that’s the best option then." he suggested.

"Yeah… but what if…" I began.

"Don’t think like that. Go. Look for her. Call me when you’re there. If Lizzie is there, good. If not, we’ll go and find her!" JK patted my back and handed me Lizzie’s bag.

"I go and grab my stuff now, then I go to our hotel. Thanks JK, really!" I sprinted back to the Ferrari hospitality, Mia already awaiting me "Whatever it is, it has to wait, there’s an emergency."

"What happened?" Mia asked alarmed.

"Lizzie ran away… she’s gone. No one knows where she is… I need to find her." I already walked up the stairs, just grabbing my things and ready to leave when Silvia’s voice called out for Mia.

"Mia? Is Charles back from the press conference? He and Carlos need to film a video."

"Charles just left…" Mia began but got interrupted immediately.

"He left? He can’t just leave? Call him! He has to come back!" I rolled my eyes at her shrill voice.

"You don’t want him to come back, Silvia. He threw up. Twice. I’m just glad that he was thinking fast enough to hide behind a container. Just imagine if someone would’ve filmed that!" Mia lied.

"True. That would be something we don’t need right now, one of our drivers vomiting in the paddock." Silvia sighed "Alright, then I go and look for Carlos. You check in on Charles."

"I will." Mia said and walked up the stairs "Alright. Go out through the back door, no one will see you there! And text me when you’ve found Lizzie. Or if you need help finding her!"

"Thank you Mia!" I hugged her and then left through the back door like she said. I made it out of the paddock and back to the hotel without being seen by anyone. I almost sprinted out of the elevator, through the door of our hotel room.

There she sat. On the sofa. Knees hugged tight to her chest. Eyes closed. Quietly humming. Relieve flooding me, although the way she sat there, looking so small, almost made my heart break. I carefully approached her, gently touched her knee and she flinched a little, looking up.

"Hey." she whispered as I sat down next to her.

"Hey." I replied cupping her tear stained cheek "What happened?"

"It’s ridiculous. I overreacted." she mumbled but I shook my head.

"I don’t think so… it was the Spanish media. They are coming after you because you dared to touch their hero Sainz senior." I said and she chuckled bitterly.

"Yeah. But you know, without proof what he said? No one will believe me. And they won’t believe your words, because of course you would lie for me…"

"I’ll find a solution. I promise you…"

"No! You can’t do anything Charles! I don’t want you to lose your seat because of this!" she almost cried and I pulled her into my lap, leaning back.

"I won’t, trust me! I already have an idea and if it works they all see what a disgusting man he is…" I whispered and she nodded slowly.

"I want this season to be over." Lizzie sighed after a while and I kissed the crown of her head.

"Yeah… me too. It’s one to forget, to be honest. But we have to put on a brave face and show everyone who doubts us that we’re better than them, okay? Better than all of them!" I smiled encouraging at her and she nodded slowly.

"Yeah… and we’re starting out with you on pole and me right behind!"

"Hell yes."

"Charles? A word?" Mattia said right as I wanted to grab my helmet.

"What’s up?" I asked, taking a sip out of my bottle.

"I need you to stick to our plan today. You can’t get your feelings for Lizzie get the better of you. You have to defend Carlos. He made it on pole! Keep Lizzie out of his range…" he said and I rolled my eyes "I’m serious Charles!"

"Whose idea was it to start on the softs? To be able to fully attack? Right. Mine. Who said that getting in front of Lizzie at the start is the most important thing to do to help Carlos? Right. Me. I know what I have to do. No need to remind me…" I said grabbing my helmet, wanting to leave.

"I just wanted to make sure that we’re still on the same page."

"Yeah. We are. Can I go now? Thanks." I brushed past him.

"What was that about?" Andrea asked when he took my helmet from me.

"He wanted to remind me to stick to MY plan…" I sighed and Andrea rolled his eyes.

"Your plan to help Carlos win… because he can’t do it alone…" he said under his breath and I chuckled a little.

"Andrea." I chided.

"I didn’t say anything…" he grinned, following me out to my car "But if I did… it would be the truth."

"Lizzie rubs off on you." I chuckled.

"Maybe. But it’s just for the best I think." he shrugged his shoulders and I nodded.

"Yeah, it really is. Let’s go now, let’s help Carlos win this race." I sighed while Andrea rolled his eyes.

"Yay. Sounds fun… not."

"It’s scary how similar you and Lizzie are getting."

"As long as you won’t kiss me, it’s good."

"We'll see about that."

The race was long. Exhausting. After half the distance my fingers began to hurt, but I powered through. After fighting with Charles for multiple laps I finally was able to leave him behind, knowing that he sacrificed his race for Sainz. Now I had to fully focus on him in front. I wouldn’t let him take home this win. He would stay winless after today. I pushed as hard as I could and managed to finally overtake him and create a little gap between us. But he was quick to recover and the next few laps were a tight battle, with me staying in front but not with much.

"Do I have anything left?"

"Negative."

"Fuck. My tires are gone as well."

"Just keep pushing. 5 more laps to go."

I tried. I gave my all. My car was going around the corners with barely an inch between the walls at some parts of the track. My tires were more than gone. And when Pete finally said that it was the final lap I felt relieve flood me. One last lap. But Sainz came closer and closer with each turn. Right as I drove into turn 16 I saw him, closer as ever and I pushed hard. Through turn 17. Straight down into turn 18 and I was still slightly ahead when all of a sudden I lost all control, felt the strong pulling of the g forces in my bones, spun around and crashed right into the wall before the final corner. The impact raged like a tidal wave through my body. My mind buzzing. I was out of the race.

"Are you okay? Lizzie?"

I couldn’t answer. Hands trembling. Arms felt heavy. Neck and shoulders tense. A dull pain in the pit of my stomach, a weird pulling.

"Lizzie?"

I saw marshals approaching. A searing pain shot through my hand. When I tried to unbuckle myself. Of course. My already injured hand had to bitch now even more.

"Lizzie? Are you okay?"

"Did that really happen? Did he really…?"

Radio silence. I knew what that meant. Sainz did in fact drive straight into me. Sent me off track. Won the race.

"You have to wait for the medical car." one of the marshals said but I shook my head and climbed over the wall.

"No, I don’t." I replied, out of breath. The heat. The exhaustion. The impact still in my bones. The pain in my fingers. The abdominal pain, getting worse with every step. It all was too much and I felt myself swaying. I grabbed onto the wall to steady myself and took a deep breath. Then I almost jogged towards the pit lane. Saw how the cars passed me after their out lap, returning to the pit lane as well. I had to be there before Charles got out of his car. I knew that he saw what happened. It was still on replay on all the screens. He would be seething. He would be going straight for Sainz, cameras or not. Another Marshall saw me struggling and held me upright.

"You should go to the medical centre." he suggested but I shook my head.

"I can’t. I have to go to the pits." I breathed heavily and continued "I’m fine. Really!" he let go of me reluctantly and I felt his look on me for a while. I saw how Charles parked his car and knew I had to be faster. I clenched my teeth and kept going. Right as I felt like I would faint I dropped my helmet and someone was catching me from falling.

Charles POV:

The car wasn’t even properly parked, the engine not even switched off when I unbuckled my seatbelt and threw the headrest away. Climbed out. Threw the steering wheel back in. My helmet followed. Then I looked around. Saw how Carlos jumped into the open arms of our mechanics. Saw them cheering. Celebrating. Singing. My blood began to boil. Pure rage surging through my veins. I wanted to break his bones. Every. Single. One. I stalked towards the scene when someone stopped me.

"Wrong way." Pierre held me back.

"Get out of my way."

"Charles, not here. Not for everyone to see."

"Look at him! Look at them! Look how they celebrate!" I screamed and some heads were turning our way.

"I know but…"

"You know nothing! It’s my girlfriend he sent straight into a wall! On purpose! He probably didn’t even ask if she’s okay!" more and more people where looking at us. Some guys from my team as well, all looking conflicted. Pierre still held me back "Let go of me."

"No." he pushed me away from my destination "I won’t let you do…"

"I DON’T GIVE A FUCK WHAT YOU…" I began to scream when I heard a weak voice calling out for me.

"Charles…" Lizzie.

I turned around. My heart dropped. She clung to Alex, who held her upright. She was pale and sweaty. Body shaking. Her helmet on the ground, visor cracked. I ran up to her. Pulled her into me.

"Are you okay, cara mia?" I whispered and she nodded slowly.

"I’m okay. A little exhausted… I honestly didn’t think that the way would be that far. My cardio sucks." she chuckled breathlessly but I pulled away, cupping her cheeks.

"Why didn’t you wait for the medical car? Why aren’t you on the way to the medical centre?" I looked at her.

"Take a good guess…"

"Cara mia…" I began but she shook her head.

"No! You say nothing! You stay calm!" her voice was firm although I could see how hard it was for her to just stand "Please Charles, don’t do anything stupid!" she almost pleaded.

"Okay, I won’t. I promise! But can I please take you to the medical centre?" now I was the one pleading.

"I think you should first go and congratulate your team and team ma-…" she began but I scoffed.

"Congratulate them? For what? He sent you straight into a wall! He needs to be penalised…" I seethed and took her helmet that Alex handed me "Thanks mate, for helping Lizzie…"

"No worries, just get her to see a doc, she almost fainted twice on her way here." Alex said and gently patted Lizzie’s arm.

"Thanks Albono!" Lizzie smiled at him, but I could clearly see her exhaustion.

"Come on, pretty girl, let’s get you to the medical centre." I whispered following Pierre, who took my helmet out of my car, to our weighing.

I waited outside the hospital room, mind reeling. When the doctor at the track said they had to take Lizzie to the hospital I expected the worst. My heart was racing. The minutes I had to wait felt like hours when finally a nurse opened the door and let me in. Lizzie was pale but she didn’t look like she was seriously injured, but the look on the doctor’s face as he told me to wait until she would wake up made me feel uneasy. I looked around, there was a big plastic bag with her racing suit and fireproof on the chair in the corner and when I looked closer I saw something red staining the bag. I didn’t need to look again. I swallowed hard. Blood. But where did it come from? Was there something I didn’t see? Was this the reason the doctor rushed her to the hospital? Breathing got harder and I tried to calm myself down, right when Lizzie opened her eyes, frantically searching the room until they found mine and she visible relaxed.

"Hey cara mia. How are you feeling?" I asked, voice trembling a little, drawing circles on the back of her hand with my thumb. She sat up a little and smiled lightly.

"I’m okay, Charles!" she said and smoothed down my ruffled hair a little, the result of my anxiety over the past hour "What happened? We were at weighing and then all is kinda blurry?"

"You fainted-…" I began when the door opened and a doctor came in.

"Hi Lizzie, how are we feeling?" he asked and Lizzie shrugged a little.

"I’m okay. A little tired. Nothing bad going on." she answered and yawned quietly.

"Were you feeling unwell before today?" the doctor asked and Lizzie shook her head.

"You felt sick for weeks, Lizzie!" I said sternly and Lizzie just sighed.

"It was a stomach bug. That’s it." she said and the doctor shook his head slightly.

"For weeks? And sometimes it was more, sometimes less?" Charles looked at the doctor.

"I see… Lizzie there is something that we need to talk about…" he began and looked at me for a moment.

"Whatever it is, you can say it in front of him, it’s fine." she said and he nodded.

"I’m sorry to inform you, but due to the high forces in the car when crashing into the wall, you had a miscarriage…" the doctor said and I could hear Lizzie inhaling sharply "We’d say you weren’t that far along maybe 8th to 9th week if we’re correct?"

I looked at Lizzie, shocked expression on her face. She was pregnant? We were having a baby?

"Miscarriage? I was… I was pregnant?" she whispered, her voice hoarse.

"You didn’t know?” the doctor asked and she shook her head slightly, then closed her eyes and pulled her hand out of my grasp and put it in her lap, fiddling with her cuticles as always when she was nervous or anxiety ridden "I’m sorry to be the bearer of this sad news. We’d like to have you over for the night to make sure you’re all good and then you can leave tomorrow."

With that he left and Lizzie sobbed quietly, tears streaming down her face, she pulled her knees up to her chest, hissing in pain but hugged them close, her head turned away from me.

"Mon amour? Lizzie? Hey! Look at me!" I whispered and sat next to her in the bed and tried to make her look at me.

"I’m sorry Charles! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know! I would never get in the car if I knew that I was pregnant! I would never… I’m so sorry!" she cried and I pulled her in my lap, hugging her tight "I lost our baby, Charles! I’m so sorry!"

"Stop apologising! It’s not your fault! You don’t have to be sorry for anything! Do you hear me?" I said but she was shaking and whispering how sorry she was over and over.

"Please don’t hate me for losing our baby!" she whispered after a while and my heart broke.

"Enough! You hear me, cara mia? It’s enough! Stop apologising for something that wasn’t your fault! Stop feeling guilty for something you didn’t know! Stop blaming yourself! It wasn’t your fault. And please stop thinking that I could ever hate you! I love you, Lizzie! You hear me? I. LOVE. YOU!" I said and held her close, kissed her temple, forehead, cheeks again and again "It’s okay! We’re going to be ok? Alright? Stop apologising, Lizzie! Please!"

She nodded slightly but I could hear her soft sobs for quite some time, before she finally fell asleep and just then I allowed myself to feel the same devastation. We were having a baby. I would’ve become a dad. And my beautiful Lizzie would’ve become a mum. But not anymore. And she blamed herself for it. Thought I could hate her. Her out of all people. I kissed her on the crown of her head.

"I love you, Lizzie and there’s nothing you could ever do to change that. One day you and I will have a baby and it’s going to be one of the most beautiful days of our life’s!" I whispered and after some time I fell asleep myself.

I woke up when I heard someone talk loudly in Italian in the hallway and sat up, careful not to wake up Lizzie. I got out of the bed and stretched a little before I opened the door.

"…he can’t just disappear like that!" Mattia said to Andrea who scoffed.

"What did you expect? That he would celebrate while his girlfriend fainted multiple times and has to stay at the medical centre? After crashing out? Because someone sent her straight into the wall?" he replied and Mattia rolled his eyes.

"It was a racing incident. She didn’t leave enough spa-…" Mattia began.

"Bullshit. Lizzie had the corner and he didn’t leave her enough space! And instead of backing down he drove straight into her!" I said loudly and they both turned around.

"Charles, that is not what was happening!" Mattia said "They were close the whole last lap and at this corner she should’ve left him more space."

"Why? That he can overtake her? Who does that? Who? She was in front. She had the corner. So he did the only thing he could do, he touched her, made her crash out. In the last corner." I had to suppress my anger.

"Yes, they made contact. And Carlos got a penalty. For causing a collision. The FIA dealed with it. It’s all good now…"

"It’s all good now? IT’S ALL GOOD NOW? Lizzie! She had a mi-… no. Nothing is all good now!" I almost screamed, Andrea putting his hand on my shoulder.

"Look, I’m sorry Lizzie has to be here. But as Carlos teammate I expected you to congratulate him. I expected you to celebrate with the team. It was important. It was his first win after all! He ended the domination of Red Bull. But you left without a word. You weren’t at any interview. You’ll be fined and we won’t pay for it. That is on you. But you’re going to be at the race debrief. I won’t tolerate your absence." Mattia turned around and left, without giving me the chance to say a word.

"How is she?" Andrea asked me and I felt my throat closing in. I shook my head, trying to get a word out but couldn’t. The weight of the news still heavy in my stomach.

"She’s umm- she’s okay. Under the circumstances… I mean… yeah- she… she’ll be okay." I stammered and Andrea nodded, sensing how bad I felt.

"What happened? Come on. You can tell me. It’s okay." Andrea lead me to a seating area and sat down, I did the same and leaned back, closing my eyes.

"Andrea… Lizzie- she was… we would’ve become- she lost our baby…" I whispered the last part and Andreas eyes widened in horror "She didn’t knew that she was pregnant. But the high g-forces when she crashed into that wall? It was too much. The baby… it couldn’t survive it… Lizzie had a miscarriage."

"I’m going to kill him. He stood there, celebrated like he was a king. Celebrated like he won this race through his own brilliance when it was you who defended him for such a long time to create a big, fat gap. Ferrari wanted you to sacrifice your entire race to help him win. And you did and he… he only won by pushing Lizzie off… and then he didn’t even mention you once. He didn’t acknowledge your involvement. He didn’t thank you. Nothing! Mattia didn’t as well! They didn’t mention Lizzie at all! Not saying that they were hoping she’d be fine! Nothing!" Andrea was furious and I hid my face in my hands, arms on my knees.

"I’m not leaving her alone. I don’t care about the race debrief or what Mattia will do. I don’t care about it all anymore." I whispered.

"You’re going to that race debrief and you show them all that no matter what they throw your way, you overcome it all!" Lizzie’s weak voice behind me made me flinch and I turned around.

There she stood, pale, swollen eyes, tired, in her hospital gown. Looking nothing but determined.

"Lizzie! You should stay in bed!" I got up but she took a step back, holding up her hand to stop me "Cara mia…"

"No. You go. Both of you. Carlos won today. We can’t change that. He got a penalty but still won. It’s like this. But you don’t give him, his family, Mattia or anyone else the satisfaction that you can’t handle it or something. No. You go to that debrief. You put on a smile. You congratulate him. You be the bigger person. You show your honour. And from then on you show them who you are. You do the talking on track. You destroy him. In every single race to come. You finish ahead of him at the end of the season." Lizzie sounded determined and I looked at her. She was the strongest person I’ve ever known. I nodded slowly and took a cautious step towards her and she took one towards me as well. Two more steps and I engulfed her in a tight embrace.

"I love you, cara mia. So so much!" I whispered in her ear, kissing her cheek.

"I love you too, Il predestinato! Go and show them who’s the best driver!" she replied and I looked her in the eyes for a moment before I leaned in for a kiss. Her warm lips brushed against mine and for a moment I forgot everything around us "Go now. I’m fine. JK and Julie will stop by later with some fresh clothes. I won’t be alone."

"Are you sure?" I asked her and she nodded "Okay. I’ll be back as soon as I can!" I kissed her once again. I stepped aside and Andrea hugged Lizzie.

"Mia ragazza… I’m so sorry." he whispered and Lizzie nodded a little "I make sure that Charles won’t do anything stupid… don’t worry!"

"Thank you, Andrea." Lizzie breathed out.

"You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met." Andrea said when he pulled away, kissing her cheek "Let’s go." he looked at me and I nodded, watching Lizzie returning back to her room, climbing into the bed.

"Let’s make this quick."

I walked inside. The trophy sitting int the middle of the table. Mattia and Carlos talking with his father and cousin, Riccardo, his race engineer right next to them. A whole bunch of our team still with a big smile on their face, talking animatedly about the race. I sat wordlessly down, at the end of the table, not making a sound and waited for the debrief to start. Alessandro, Callo and Mario came up to me, patting my shoulder and I looked up.

"Hey, how’s Lizzie?" Alessandro asked and I forced myself to smile a little.

"She’s okay. Not great, sure, but she’ll be fine." I replied and they both nodded, smiling.

"That’s good. Really good." Mario said, right as Andrea walked in and sat down next to me, handing me a bottle of water.

"Charles? Hey… how’s Lizzie? I heard she’s in the hospital?" Fabrizio asked, sitting down next to me.

"Yeah, they had to make some more tests, it wasn’t just a little bump after all. But she’s okay." I said again, feeling the bile rise up my throat.

"Yeah? That’s good. I’m glad to hear that." he gently patted my arm and I nodded.

"Yeah, it is." I pressed out, gulping down some water, while Andrea nudged my thigh a little, smiling at me.

"Alright everyone. There’s not much to debrief tonight. We had a fantastic weekend with the best possible result. Tyre degradation was working in our favour this weekend, but it’s still one of our main problems. Also the reliability of some components. But we know now that Red Bull is beatable. It was a tough battle, but in the end we can all celebrate Carlos’ first win now!" Mattia said and I looked first at him, then at Carlos. Big smile on his face. His father and cousin smiling at him looking all proud, his mechanics cheering, beer bottles getting passed along. Everyone started to chat. And I sat there. Looking at Mattia. Laughing and joking with Sainz senior. I felt anger rising up. This was the important debrief I had to attend. The debrief that made me leave Lizzie behind. Alone. No.

"That’s it?" I asked loudly and the room fell silent "That’s the race debrief? That’s all you have to say?"

"What else is there to say?" Mattia looked at me as I got up.

"This is why I left my girlfriend alone in the hospital after someone sent her straight into a wall?" my voice was trembling with anger but he didn’t say anything.

"Charles…" Andrea began but I shook my head, walking towards the door where Mattia stood with Carlos, his father and cousin.

"Congratulations Carlos. Congratulations Matti, it looks like you finally got your long awaited Santander win." I said, then I walked out, Andrea following me.

"Hey my pretty girl, how are you?" Charles asked when he walked inside and I shrugged my shoulders a little.

"I don’t know. It’s weird… I didn’t know that I was pregnant… I just-…" I stopped. Looking at my hands. Not sure what to say and what to feel.

"Lizzie? Hey… it’s okay. Whatever you feel is okay. You can talk to me. Or not. Whatever you need now… just don’t push me away entirely, okay?" Charles took my hand in his and kissed my knuckles, smiling at me "We’re in this together. You and me. Okay?"

"When we talked about us having kids… I didn’t thought about the when… one day sure… but now? I don’t think I would’ve been ready… it would’ve meant giving up my career? Everything I fought so hard for? It’s selfish to think like that… I know… but- but I think I’m relieved that I lost it? I’m a horrible person for thinking that way, I know! But it’s just… I don’t know… I’m sorry." I whispered, not able to look at him, knowing that he would be shocked and hurt by my words.

"Can you please look at me?" he asked me gently and I looked up "It’s not selfish to want this chance, this opportunity not to end. I know how hard it was for you to make it into Formula 1. I know the blood, sweat and tears you invested. And it doesn’t make you a horrible person… because last night? I saw how sorry you were. And how much it hurt you… you don’t have to feel sorry, okay?"

"It’s just so weird. Because although I’m relieved… I’m also sad? This little bean? That was us. You and I. And it was in me. It was a part of me, unknowingly, but still. And now it’s gone. And I’m not sure if I’m even allowed to feel sad? Because I didn’t want it in the first place?" Charles wiped away my tears and leaned his forehead against mine.

"You can feel every way you want to… you can be sad. Mad. Frustrated. Confused. Relieved. It’s okay. It’s a lot to process. But at the end of the day, it’s only important that you know that it’s all going to be okay. I’m with you. Always. And the next time a little bean is growing in your belly? Maybe then is the time for us to be happy. To be excited. But we have time. As much time as you need." he whispered and I nodded slowly.

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Always find the right words? Always know what to say? Always know what to do? How are you so perfect?" I smiled and he chuckled.

"It’s easy. I do it for you. And you’re perfect. You deserve only the best. That means that I have to be the best. So I’m trying my best…"

"You’re succeeding."

Charles POV:

I left Lizzie’s room when her doctor and a nurse came to do some final tests. I took the elevator downstairs. The silence in the confined room was deafening. Lizzie’s words still echoing in my mind. She felt relieved. Relieved that she lost our baby. Our baby. I took a deep breath. The bell signalling the doors opening. I looked up when a nurse wheeled in a young woman, baby in her arms. I swallowed hard, stepping aside. I watched the young mother gently stroking the cheek of her newborn. Kissing the baby’s forehead. A void inside of me opening. A cold numbness overcoming me. I didn’t know how to feel. Sad? Mad? Relieved? Confused? Frustrated? Overwhelmed? From everything a little? I flinched when the baby started to cry. I watched how the young mother cradled her little bundle of joy closer to her chest, softly cooing, trying to calm down her most prized possession. I stepped out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened and just started walking, no idea where I would go.

I found a quiet seating area and sat down. My mind reeling. I had no right to be mad at Lizzie. It was her body. Her choice. She would have to end her career. Not me. She would be the one carrying the baby for the next nine months. Not me. I understood her. Of course I did. But still. The thought of this tiny little bean. This tiny little something. A mix of us. Something we created through our love. To hear that she felt relieved that it was gone hurt for some reason. Like hell. After a while I checked the time, realising that I was sitting there for almost 20 minutes and got up, went back to Lizzie’s room. Putting on a brave smile. A reassuring one. I had to be strong now. And supportive. What happened didn’t happen to me, but to Lizzie. And I had to be strong now. For her.

"The cramping usually stops within a day, maybe two. You can take painkillers. It’s normal that there might be some light bleeding or spotting for the next 4 to 6 weeks. You should see your ob-gyn in around two weeks and they may do an ultrasound exam or other tests to make sure all the tissue has passed. Also no heavy lifting. And no sexual intercourse for the next one, better two weeks…" the nurse said and Lizzie nodded.

"Oh don’t worry, we don’t want another accident happen so soon." she joked half heartedly and I groaned. Accident.

"Can you maybe not make these kind of jokes just now…" I let out, harsher than intended, and she looked up from her bag, eyes wide.

"I’m sorry." she whispered, looking back down, her shoulders visible tensing.

"No… I’m sorry." I gently took her hand in mine but she pulled away.

"I’m ready, we can go… thank you for everything." Lizzie grabbed her bag and smiled at the nurse. I wanted to take her bag but she already started walking out the room.

"Fuck…" I muttered under my breath "Thank you!" I nodded at the nurse, following Lizzie, who was almost at the elevator "Lizzie wait…" I called after her "Hey! Cara mia, give me your bag."

"I’m fine..." she whispered, turning away.

"Lizzie, please. Give me your bag." I repeated, but she shook her head, still not looking at me.

"I’ll be in the car on the weekend. I can carry my bag." she said right as the elevator doors opened.

"I know that you can, but you don’t have to. So please, cara mia." I almost pleaded but Lizzie was stubborn and carried her bag all the way to the car and from the car back to our hotel room as well.

"I already packed your suitcase last night, I just left some clothes for the flight out… I hope what I picked was okay?" I said to her and she only nodded, grabbing the clothes and then disappeared in the bathroom. I heard the shower going and could’ve sworn that I heard Lizzie sob "Cara mia? Are you okay?" I knocked on the door.

"Yeah. I’ll hurry, don’t worry." her voice confirmed my suspicion, she was crying.

"Lizzie, can I come in?" I said gently.

"I’m okay, Charles. Just give me a minute."

I sighed and sat down on the bed, thinking about what I did.

"You can go now if you want…" Lizzie said and I flinched, she stood in front of me, fully dressed, her hair wrapped in a towel.

"Can we talk about what happened?" I tried it again but Lizzie walked away.

"There is nothing to talk and if you want to take a shower you need to hurry up, the car is here in 20 minutes." she sat down at the table and began to blow dry her hair and I sighed, knowing that I wouldn’t get her to talk. At least not now. Defeated I grabbed my stuff and want to the bathroom, not without looking at Lizzie once more. Her shoulders slumped, eyes trained down to the floor. Great fucking job, Charles.

I called Julie, silently begging that she would answer the call immediately.

"Lizzie, hey! How are you?" Julie sounded worried.

"I’m fine. Really." I said although I didn’t felt like it.

"Okay… if I can do anything, just let me know, okay?"

"Actually, there is something you can do…" I said, taking a deep breath.

"Yeah, sure, everything."

"Can you book a room for me in Japan?" I asked.

"It’s already booked… Mia sent me the details…" she sounded confused.

"No… umm- a room… for me. Just me."

Silence.

"Okay… whatever you want…" Julie said after a while.

"Thank you… see you in Suzuka…" I hung up and finished my hair, pulling it up into a messy bun right when Charles came out of the bathroom, packing away his things "Ready? Joris texted me that the driver is here."

"Umm yeah. Sure. Let’s go…" Charles replied and grabbed his bag, as well as mine. I cocked an eyebrow but he shook his head "Just let me carry it, okay?"

"Okay…" I mumbled and we left the room, meeting up with Joris. I didn’t listen to anything they were saying and just wanted to get into the plane, put my head down and sleep. Or at least try to. I was never really a fan of sleeping on the plane but maybe after last night sleep would find me easily.

"Cara mia?" I heard Charles whisper and opened my eyes "We landed."

"Already?" I yawned and he nodded.

"You were gone the moment you sat down." Charles smiled and I stretched a little.

"Okay…" I got up and grabbed my bag, following Charles out of the plane and all the way through to the arrival hall, where already a bunch of fans were waiting for us, mostly Charles, but still. I smiled for as many selfies as possible, signed stuff and thanked the fans for coming although I was more than exhausted. Light cramps made me flinch a little and I felt how I had to force my smile more and more with every new selfie.

"Guys, leave Lizzie a little space to breathe. The crash is still in her bones!" Charles stepped next to me and some fans immediately took some steps back, but not all of them and with Charles now next to me, even more people swarmed us and he pulled me to his side. With Joris on my other side and some securities coming to our help, we made it outside and into our car.

"I think we really should consider hiring bodyguards for yo- for us." Charles said hastily when I glared at him.

"I was fine before you and your whole mob of fangirls came along." I said bluntly and he looked at me for a moment, as if he wanted to say something, but then he shook his head and turned to Joris.

"You have a dinner later. You have to attend. Sorry…" he said and Charles groaned.

"How much time do I have?"

"Let’s say, check in, change, go? And we still might be a little late."

"Great. Just great." Charles looked at me and I shrugged my shoulders "I don’t want to leave you alone…"

"I’m fine. In fact, I’m meeting up with Julie anyways, she wants to show me some stuff for Netflix." I lied and he nodded "I’ll go straight to her room when we arrive."

"Okay… but Lizzie? Don’t overwork yourself… the doctor said to take it a little slow. Please."

"Don’t worry, I will." I replied when our car stopped and another mass of fans was waiting "Round 2 I guess."

"How did Charles react?" Julie asked when I dropped my bag on the sofa.

"Umm… he doesn’t know." I replied and she made big eyes "It’s better like this."

"Yeah maybe, but you still should tell him that! And not just let him walk into an empty hotel room…"

"I’m going to send him a text. We need a little space. He’s hurt and mad… and it’s not because I had a miscarriage… it’s because I said that I’m relieved." I almost whispered.

"But you explained him why, right? I can’t imagine Charles being mad if he knows the reasons? It’s Charles after all?" she cocked an eyebrow as I sat down on the sofa.

"Yeah but his reaction? I- I think he’s more hurt than he wants to admit. He needs time to think about it. To process it. And he can’t do that when I’m next to him all the time." I grabbed my phone and opened a text for Charles "He will understand."

"I hope you’re right…"

I groaned, turning to switch on the nightstand lamp.

"What the actual fuck…" I muttered, the hammering at my door got even more frantic "What…" I checked the time 1:17 am. I scrambled out of the bed and walked to the door, looking through the peephole. Charles. My heart hammering in my chest.

"Open the door please, cara mia!" his voice hoarse.

"Charles? What are you doing here? At this time?" I whispered when I opened the door to let him in and he pulled me into a tight embrace.

"I hate it like this. When we’re separated! I don’t sleep well when you’re not next to me… I’m sorry that I woke you up but I just couldn’t stand being away from you for just one more minute…" Charles mumbled, his hot breath tickling my ear.

He looked tired, exhausted, something I noticed this morning as well.

"I just thought that after Singapore… you were clearly mad at me when I made that stupid joke…" I began and he cupped my cheeks.

"I know and I’m sorry. It was more that I had to wrap my head around this all for a moment and you were already joking about it… and I know that it’s just a coping mechanism… but in that moment? I thought about this little bean, our little bean, and it made me sad and hurt that you were happy that it’s gone, although I completely understood why you were relieved! And I fully support you! It’s just… I don’t know? I just needed a moment to get it all sorted out. I shouldn’t have snapped at you! I know that! And I’m so, so sorry that I did! But please understand me as well. And please don’t send me away. I don’t want to sleep without you ever again. It was horrible. I felt horrible. I need you by my side… especially here…" Charles almost whispered the last words and I realised how stupid and selfish I was.

"I’m so sorry Charles! I- I honestly didn’t even think about where we are… I just wanted to give you space and-…" I began but he silenced me with a kiss.

"I don’t ever want space from you, okay? Never. We talk. We find a solution. No one leaves." he leaned his forehead against mine "And can we please go to bed now? I’m so freaking tired…"

"Okay…" I whispered pulling him with me back into bed.

"I love you, Lizzie." Charles said after a while, holding me close to his body, his hand gently tracing my spine up and down.

"I love you too…" I tilted my head up and kissed his cheek "And I’m sorry for leaving you alone here-…"

"You don’t have to apologise, cara mia. I’m just happy to have you next to me again… it’s weird, but when you’re not next to me…"

"You can’t sleep well? It’s the same for me… I’m tossing and turning, but I don’t really sleep…" I whispered and he nodded.

"Yeah… I mean when I’m in Maranello alone, I can sleep because we talk before I go to bed? But this? When we don’t talk? I hate it…" he kissed the crown of my head "But you have to believe me, Lizzie, I wasn’t mad at you, never, okay? I just… I don’t know. The doctor said that there was a baby. Our baby. And suddenly all I ever dreamed of having was just right there in front of me… and in my mind, hearing you say that you were relieved was like saying you don’t want this. Us. I know it’s not the truth! But sometimes my mind plays these kinda tricks on me and I need a moment to sort it all out in my head. But there was not one second where I was mad at you. If I was mad, then at the situation. But nothing else, okay?"

I nodded. Wiping away a stray tear.

"We’re going to be fine. It’s all going to be okay, cara mia. You and me against the world." another kiss on my head "And now we really should sleep. We have quali today. And I don’t know about you, but I really want to wipe away that grin of some certain people’s faces…"

"Yeah… me too."

"Ryan Andrew’s, CBS. Lizzie after your crash in Singapore you seemed to be a little off the whole weekend in Japan, was the crash worse than it looked like? Was it potentially not a good idea to race?"

"Of course I still felt the crash in my bones. It was a high speed corner where I crashed out. But I was and am alright. The result in Japan had nothing to do with the crash." I lied, feeling Charles eyes on me.

"Kelly Johnson, BBC Sports. Charles, in Japan the Ferrari’s looked quite strong, after Singapore another good race for your team. Do you think you can repeat that performance this weekend?" the blonde reporter in the first row asked him.

"Yeah we did quite good, we seem to understand the car better now, so I’m hoping to see some better results in the next races."

"Michael Breitner. Auto, Motor, Sport. Question for Charles. Many people expected your contract renewal to be announced in Monza… that was now two races ago. Are the contract negotiations still going on?"

"To be honest I can’t tell you much about that. Because there is not much to say at the moment. I’m focusing on this season. Then the next season. My contractual situation is not really on my mind." Charles answered with a smile and I knew how hard it must’ve been for him to sit there and look like he was believing his own words, when inside it was killing him to not know what was going on.

"Is it possible that we might see you in a different team after next year?"

"I don’t know. In Formula 1 everything is possible as we know. Everyone knows how much I love my team and that I want to win the championship with them. But at the end of the day I just want to drive and if not at Ferrari then at any other team that believes in me. But for now I can’t talk about things this far in the future when I don’t know about them myself…"

A murmur went through the room, the heads of Max, Lewis and Nico snapping to look at Charles. To say that no one expected this answer was the understatement of the year.

"To make this clear, you do think of the possibility of leaving Ferrari for another team?"

"No. I’m not thinking of leaving Ferrari. I’m saying that if Ferrari doesn’t renew my contract, then I will look for another option." the smile he forced out looked almost painful and when the press conference was over and we left, I pulled Charles with me.

"They’re persistent, no?" he chuckled bitterly and I hugged him, massaged his scalp.

"Don’t listen to their questions. They just want to get a reaction out of you." I whispered "You will get your seat. Preferably at Ferrari, I know, but at the end of the day, seat is seat, okay?"

"Yeah… you’re right."

"Now come on. Let’s finish up and then cool down in our huge bathtub…" I kissed his cheek and pulled away, before he pulled me back in and kissed me tenderly.

"Better?" I laughed when he let go of me.

"Better."

I stopped the car and switched everything off, leaning my head back. Worst race ever. I opened up the visor, hoping for some cold and fresh air to stream in just to be greeted with the searing hot air of Qatar. I was never this happy that a race weekend was over. After taking a few shallow breaths, I tried to get out of the car. The struggle was real. My knees were wobbly. I clipped out the steering wheel and put it on the hood of my car, trying to pull myself up but failed miserably.

"Come here, cara mia." I heard Charles faint voice and looked up. He gently grabbed me by the waist, pulling me out of the cockpit, then sat me down on the halo, clipping my steering wheel back in place.

"Thank you, Charlie." I whispered, fighting with the straps of my helmet.

"Let me…" he said, unbuckling the clasp, pulling my helmet off "Hey pretty girl." he pulled my balaclava off next, wiping my sweaty hair out of my face.

"Hot. So freaking hot." I pressed out, pushing off of the halo, trying to cautiously slip off and take a first step, just to be caught by Charles "Fuck." I breathed out.

"You’re done…" he said, picking me up, holding me tight. He carried me bridal style into the cold hospitality, sitting me down on the floor "You’re totally overheated, Lizzie."

"My water was gone after the first couple of minutes already." I whispered, leaning my head against the cold wall.

"Here." Andrea appeared next to us, handing me a water bottle.

"I can’t. Need to go to weighing first." my voice barely above a whisper.

"It’s okay…" I heard an F1 official say and Charles unscrewed the cap of the bottle, holding it to my mouth, the moment the cold water streamed down my throat I let out a quiet moan.

"Stop making these noises for everyone to hear… only I’m allowed to hear that…" he chuckled underneath his breath and I managed a little smirk.

"Sorry…" I whispered "Is everyone okay? I’m not the only one who’s this done, or am I?"

"You’re definitely not." Pierre sank down next to leaning his head against the cold wall "Almost everyone is done for."

"Can we please never race here again." I sighed a little.

"Yeah… I would vote against it as well." Pierre whispered, his head on my shoulder.

"Me too." George plopped down on the floor in front of us, shuffling down his race suit "That’s just too much heat."

"Well… as director of the GPDA, take matters into your hands." I chuckled and he laughed.

"Later. For now I just need a moment to cool down."

"Same, same."

The room felt warm and welcoming, the yellow walls washing a sense of calm over me, only the smell of the disinfection spray didn’t fit in. When the door opened Charles squeezed my hand and smiled at me.

"Miss Doetterer. I only have good news for you. The tissue passed completely. Your blood values look good, same for everything else. Light bleeding or spotting in the next 2-3 weeks are normal, nothing to worry about." Dr. Bernard said.

"So it’s all good?" I asked and he nodded.

"Yes. It’s all good." he repeated and I took a deep breath in.

"Thanks, Dr. Bernard." Charles shook his hand and I did the same.

"I think that’s it for today. There’s only one thing left to say for me. Good luck in Austin." Dr. Bernard smiled and we nodded, leaving his office.

"I’d say let’s grab something to eat and then head home, the car will pick us up pretty damn early." Charles opened the door for me and I slipped in "What do you want to eat?"

"I would love a pizza…" I mumbled and he chuckled.

"Pizza it is. I’m not telling JK if you’re not telling Andrea."

"That sounds like a deal!" I leaned back and watched the busy streets of Monaco, all the young families with their babies in the most beautiful and stylish strollers "I never noticed how many babies there are in Monaco." I almost whispered and Charles took my hand in his.

"One day, cara mia. Don’t worry… the time for our little family starting to grow will come." he kissed the back of my hand and I turned a little, looking at him "There’s still enough time. Maybe enough for the both of us to win a title."

"You will win a title sooner than later… me on the other hand? Not so sure, but I sure as hell keep trying."

"No no, our baby will have world champion parents." Charles sounded determined and I laughed.

"Our baby will have one definite world champion parent and one maybe world champion parent… let’s be realistic."

"I am!"

"Okay… whatever you say."

"But until then it’s quite a long way."

"The only way I’m caring about right now is the one to Antonio’s!" I pouted a little when my stomach grumbled.

"Got you. Less talking. More driving."

"Exactly." I laughed again.

"I’m just wondering… you get already really grumpy when you’re hungry just now… but when a tiny human is growing inside you?" Charles raised his eyebrows.

"Good that you’re a fast driver then…"

Chapter 40 - some of you have guessed it 😔 I really hope I could describe the feelings and it all as natural and real as possible… the chapter feels a little rushed towards the end, but I didn’t want to put too much in it… especially now that the triple header is right around the corner and A LOT is about to happen 👀

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