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tteokdoroki · 1 month

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HIGH HEELS - ryomen sukuna.

౨ৎ — about. “sukuna knows those heels, he’s pulled them off of you a million times before during a haze of lustful kisses and sly touches. he has no idea why the sight of them turns him on so much.” as rough and rugged as he may seem, ryomen sukuna lives to see his girl happy. he loves to see her smile. he loves to know she feels as good as she looks…but when you end up looking a little too good in a certain pair of heels, he can’t be blamed for making you late for a dreaded dinner... ( 6.2K )

౨ৎ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, pwp — video banner. modern!au, rich girl!au, forbidden romance, reader has sisters, degradation, praise, pain play, fingering (f!receiving), exhibitionism, slight!daddy kink, hold the moan, unprotected sex, oral sex (f!receiving), masturbation (m!receiving), cum play, creampies, modern bf!sukuna, rich girl fem!reader.

౨ৎ — things to note. haii everyone ! it’s been a while since i posted a longer fic so im excited. this was supposed to be a thirst lol. i’m just testing the waters with my version of modern bf!sukuna ! many thanks to @yennified for the ask that inspired it all. i’d like to thank everyone for their patience ‘n i hope you enjoy mwah mwah <3 - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

“we’re going to be late, hot stuff.”

“no we’re not, ryo. give me five minutes! i just need to —“

if there’s one thing ryomen ‘sukuna’ itadori had learned from dating you, is that time management was never and never will be your strong suit.

if the phrase fashionably late could be embodied as a person, sukuna believes that it would definitely take the shape of you. you and your beautiful brown eyes that plead with him to give you a moment not even five minutes before you leave the house for dinner reservations. you and your sinful curves only accentuated the silk slip dresses you spend so long steaming before sukuna takes you out for the night. you and your perfect lips that have to be painted with the right gloss or lipstick to match your nails, purse and heels.

all of you, and your beauty, make up the meat and bones of the phrase ‘fashionably late.’

just like right now, where you sit reapplying your hot chocolate lip gloss, perched on the edge of the luxurious king sized bed you’d demanded be in your hotel room. a room booked by your father for a family-oriented get-away. sukuna hadn’t wanted to come, as a man from humble beginnings, using your daddy’s money wasn’t something that he favoured — but the man liked to see his girl happy. sukuna lives to make you happy, even if he won’t admit it.

“do ya really need five minutes to fix your lip gloss?” the pink haired man chides, sweeping a hand through his rosette locks in the mirror as he re-enters your bedroom. “i’ve seen you do it in less, gorgeous,” blood red eyes are quick to place you in the centre of the room — they never stray from you for too long, sukuna will always find you in a room no matter how busy or bare it is. your presence fills him with love and brings him comfort, even if he refuses to accept that as his truth.

there’s a coldness to the look you give him over your compact mirror while you rub the swell of your lips together, spreading the pigment across them easily. it’s a warning not to rush you, a warning to your boyfriend who knows better. “i said, i need my five minutes.”

ryomen drops the topic with a shrug, fixing his silky tie at the collar of his dress shirt — the one you’d so carefully picked because it matches the deep tone of his eyes and the colour of your slip dress. a mark of possession on your part. once he’s done, he takes to packing your designer clutch with all of your essentials from the dresser — blotting powder, your purse, any silver jewellery you’ll want to put on in the car. he slips on a couple of expensive rings to match with you too.

sukuna is more prepared for this dinner with your insufferable relatives than you are. he knows that tonight will be about your little sister and the rich lord she’s bagged as her boyfriend along with how soon they’ll be getting married. or it’ll focus on your older sister and her marriage that she’s trying so hard to keep together, despite it clearly falling apart. both of your siblings seem to think that they’re above you and your brooding, misunderstood boyfriend.

but you don’t believe that.

and you like to rub your love for one another in their bitter faces.

“pretty girl,” sukuna purrs, his chest rumbling with affection once he takes note of your heels discarded to the side. their silver sparkles glint under the warm embrace of the lighting up above. sukuna knows those heels, he’s pulled them off of you a million times before during a haze of lustful kisses and sly touches. they’re expensive too — he has no idea why the sight of them turns him on so much. “if you don’t hurry up, we won’t be able to brag to your bitchy sisters about how in love we are.”

by no means is sukuna a man of weak resolve. his will is as strong as his exterior — coated in the scars of his rough past like the thick black tattoos that ink his arms. he remains strong in every scenario except for ones that concern you, one look from you and you’ve got that mountain of a man crumbling like an avalanche and falling to his knees. you cast your boyfriend an amused gaze, smacking your lips as you watch him sink to his knees before your very eyes.

once again, your man takes the hint — thick fingers reaching for your glittery red bottom heels on the floor before he brings them up to the soles of your feet without a word. “you know how much i love the sound of that, ryo,” comes your dark hum, the colour of your eyes dimming with a desire ryomen sukuna knows all too well. “but i don’t see an issue with looking good while i do it.”

“you’re right,” sukuna quips in a husky tone, taking one foot and slipping one of your expensive shoes onto it. “who cares if we’re late to meet your sisters. as long as you feel as good as you look — i couldn’t give a fuck.” his thick fingers that know the twitches and ticks of your body oh-so-well reach for the straps of your heels and slowly begin weaving them around your ankle, upwards.

his blood red eyes remain hooked on your exposed thighs and supple skin, littered with a beautiful array of marks and scars from over your years of existence. some from before you even knew of ryomen, others from during your time together. “do you think i look good, baby?” you ask him innocently, leaning back on the bed with the palms of your hands lost in the whipped peaks of expensive cotton sheets — most exclusively found in this five star hotel.

sukuna grins in that slow and sexy way which makes your stomach lurch with lust, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge. “fuckin’ gorgeous, they’ll be shakin with rage.” he says, praise melting on the tip of his tongue. his words, in a symphony syllables, are accompanied by an undercover tune of desire — sukuna is a hungry man with little patience and a big appetite. once he’s settled on something, he’s damn sure to get it.

tonight; his prey is you.

the hulking man with the contrastingly soft pink hair bends at the neck to press a chaste kiss to your knee cap, smoothing the rough surface of his palms and workman’s hands over your doughy thighs — massaging you, easing any knots and tension beneath the top layer of your warm skin. his lips, only slightly chapped, curl upwards with a knowing smile when you let out a pleased chirp. sukuna’s hands work wonders on your body — causing your mind to drift away from the family dinner that awaits you.

tonight; you could very well fall victim to the claws and fangs ryomen sukuna possesses.

kisses quickly become open mouthed and wet, hot and slippery over your flesh — and soon, sukuna adds teeth to the mix once he reaches your inner thighs, littering the area with deep shades of purple and midnight blue. he had no intentions of ravaging you like this, at least not so soon, but with a woman this irritable and fiery and troublesome on his arm how could he not? they say that you attract what you put out and the mirthy look in your eye, hidden between beautiful brown flecks of innocence, tells sukuna that you’re exactly what his guarded soul has been looking for all of his life.

his pulse quickens beneath the calcium cage of his chest — heart beat rising as you allow his curious lips and pink fluffy hair begin to disappear under the silky fabric of your figure-hugging dress. sukuna can practically taste you, the air underneath your skirt is dewy and warm and your flavour (that he knows oh so well) lingers within its particles.

god, he wants you so bad. he doesn’t even care how this may look.

a man like him on his knees, ready to worship you as if you spout riches and bleed liquid gold.

except you do, you’re worth more than sukuna could ever hope to be. the weight of your net-worth unfairly tips the scales and he doesn’t even care. all because he loves you.

“why’re we even goin’ to this stupid dinner in the first place?” your rough and ragged boyfriend ponders out loud, with his words slipping over the edge of his sneaky snake's tongue. said tongue, if ryomen inches forward enough, could drag over your budding clit — clearly outlined through the barely-there crotch of your lace panties. “spend the night with me, doll. don’t gotta go a place…” a thick finger pulls the string of fabric away from your sticky slit, toying with the material until your premature arousal glazes his fingertip.

but before the man can reward himself with the goods between your perfect thighs — the sharp point of your heel digs into ryomen’s firm right pec. your shoes are clean so they won’t leave a mark, but he feels like you’ve left one on his heart, even as the bottom of your shoe pushes him back and away from your warmth.

“oh ryo, you must be hungry for the wrong thing,” you laugh breathlessly with your head tipping backwards, the sound shooting straight down to the hardness beneath sukuna’s black slacks. you push at him further until he rests back on his haunches — expression crazed and like a starved animal. “you forgot the other shoe, love.”

it turns out, you’re just as skilled a huntress as sukuna is. a vixen who stalks her prey and makes them beg for all her mercy. “how careless of me…” the man drawls, finding himself drawn to you like a moth to a candle’s flame. he craves your attention, he basks in it when you give it to him in the way that you do now. there’s not a moment where you’re not looking at him, admiring the shape and form of your man as if he’s the rarest piece of art in the world or a treasure more expensive than any diamond.

within the depth of those enticing brown eyes lay the truest form of love — even when you’re seconds away from devouring each other, your love for ryomen outgrows any doubt planted in your heart by your bitter family.

“y’must be so disappointed in me…” he goes on, lifting your second ankle in one hand and adjusting your foot into the perfect position to slip your other heel on. “how can i make it up to ya, gorgeous?” sukuna’s voice is gravelly, laced with intonations of neediness as he laces you up and finishes the job with a hand clasped over your knee. “i’ll do anythin’, anythin’ you want.”

graciously, you remove your red bottom from his shoulder and part your knees like the Red Sea — giving the older itadori the perfect view of the small string of fabric nestled between your glistening folds. even with the way you play coy, you’re always ready for him — as if it’s coded into your DNA to yearn for his touch.

the upper row of your teeth sink into your shiny bottom lip as you look down at your man with unadulterated hunger. “anything, ryo?”

sukuna’s chest rumbles (like a storm) with pride, his watchful gaze noting how you twitch and writhe for more. he leans forward and lets his black painted nails sink into the surface of your thighs — dragging you towards his awaiting mouth. “anythin’ for you gorgeous.” he repeats, voice raspy. in one swift movement, your red-bottom heels are swung over wide shoulders with thick muscles, keeping you nice and spread for him.

from over your barely-there-panties, a finger glides through your glistening pussy lips and presses into your budding clit just to get a reaction out of you. a squeak that makes sukuna’s hips buck into the floor and a full body shiver that has your heels knocking behind the man’s head. arousal pearls on his fingertip through the material, which he leisurely rubs into the rest of your heated and throbbing sex, right down to your quivering hole.

two fingers with polished black nails slip past your underwear’s waistband and dip inside of you with practised ease, instantly curling to find that special spot that drives you up the wall. sukuna knows you well, he’s spent years getting to that point. he’s committed every little detail there is to know about you to memory — the your lashes flutter when you like how he touches you, the way your throat bobs just before you mewl out his name. he knows exactly what you like and how to make you feel good. that fact drives sukuna into a frenzy.

his fingers start to work you faster, a lewd suctioning sound echoing throughout the luxurious room the deeper they plunge into you. sukuna’s thumb deliciously rolls over your swollen clit to add to your mounting pleasure, writing the signature of his claim on one of the most sacred parts of your body — where no other person can have you.

“ryomen!” you squeal in surprise, your shaky thighs threatening to close around your boyfriend’s skilled hands. your hole clenches around his thick digits feverishly while drooling directly into the seat of his rough palm.

a resounding chuckle echoes between your legs, vibrating against your syrupy sex as his pink head of hair disappears beneath the hem of your silken skirt. “that good, huh?” comes his lazy reply to your call of his name, using his fingers to fuck your arousal back into you. “what’s the matter, pretty girl?”

condescension twists with your boyfriend’s baritone voice, sending sparks of delight through your body like a thunder strike from zeus himself. when it comes to sex and pleasing you — sukuna is a god amongst mankind. the best you’ve ever had:

“don’t tease,” you growl out impatiently through gritted teeth, though your words melt into a whiny moan when sukuna easily bares down on your g-spot because he knows your squishy insides like the backs of his very hands. he finds it adorable when your face scrunches at the sensation of his cold, silver ring brushing up against your molten, sticky cunt and hums in content when you squirt a little bit for him in response. “we…we h-have plans for tonight!”

“‘m sorry princess, didn’t know we were in a rush.” ryomen says smugly, leaning into the sinful scent of your sex as if he’s been bewitched. not even the sound of your silver gladiator heels knocking against one another behind his head can pull the man out of this reverie. despite your warning, your boyfriend figures that there’s still time to have his way with you, you don’t really care about being on time to meet your family and you hardly have the brain capacity to think about them right now.

not when you fall under the vicious waves of ecstasy and give in to your depraved lover. ryomen quickly has you drowning in pleasure as he finally takes the plunge and replaces his thumb on your clit with his lips wrapped around it. he sucks on the little nub from over your panties, tongue glazing the fabricated barrier with his saliva as he commits the taste of you to memory once again.

your natural musk has sukuna drunk and high within seconds. you’ve got him returning to old habits and addictions he doesn’t have the strength to fight off. you’re bad for him and he knows it, but he can’t help but to make out with your clothed mound like it’s his life’s mission, mapping out the shape of your cunt through the stringy, soiled material. you ought to be embarrassed with the way you throb against sukuna’s eager lips as he buries his face further into your pussy. he inhales sharply, nastily, with his nose nudging against the sensitive treasure in circles — coaxing you open like a flower in the spring bloom.

ecstasy decides to bloom within you too, evergreen roots taking residence deep within your chest and curling around your beating heart. your pulse quickens in anticipation, an intoxicating veil of covetous yearning shrouding your brain in darkness as the tip of sukuna’s tongue now begins to circle your tight little entrance. even with the fabric in the way, you greedily attempt to clench down on his predatory pink appendage and keep him locked inside your cunt — squirting small streams of your juices in the process.

if your siblings could see you right now, how dirtily your man begins to ravage you just minutes before your family dinner while dripping on his tongue and the expensive bed daddy paid for, they’d be horrified. the sentiment strikes a pang of arousal in you, spreading to your boyfriend like a wildfire.

and as ryomen hooks a finger around the soiled gusset of your panties to pull them down, you hardly find it within yourself to care about what your snotty sisters might think — not when you’re about to receive the best head and best orgasm of your life.

“how d’ya wan’it?” instead of making a move to eat you out properly, ryomen takes two fingers and spreads your folds and exposes them to the blazing heat of his breath. exhaling through his nose next, he watches with blood red eyes as you twitch beneath his hold, dribbling liquid gold more than his mouth drools. “you’re so fuckin’ wet…all this from puttin’ on those pretty shoes?” your thigh shifts in response, heels clicking and back arches from luxury sheets crinkling under your back.

huffing impatiently, you send a threatening look down at your boyfriend despite how vulnerable you are to his torture teeth that could tear you apart in an instant. “ryo…your mouth,” you whinge, voice slipping into an almost babyish tone. despite your hard stare, your eyes are wet and wide like a prey animal watching its life go by right before it’s hunted or a deer in headlights, for that matter. “you promised you wouldn’t t-tease!”

“yeah, yeah, i know. ‘m sorry,” sukuna hums confidently, except he’s not really apologetic in the slightest — hardly doing his best to tame the uncomfortable yearning building up at your core. you’re a mess for him and he loves it, he’s entertained by the thought of you needing him so bad that it might kill you. he takes pride in knowing it’s not just him who feels this way. “thank you for tellin’ me, by the way. gonna use my mouth to fuck this pretty pussy til’ she’s creamin’ all for me,” he growls to you in a sultry tone, his aphrodisiac-like words a breath’s width away from your sloppy mound — its timbre sound sending tremors of electricity through your swollen, unattended clit that convulses from the lack of attention.

nothing inflates ryomen sukuna’s ego more than the feeling of your sex throbbing against his face — juices glossing the plump swell of his lips as he wraps them around your puffy pleasure nub. his chest bristles as you open up for him like a flower in spring, the scent of your arousal acting like a perfume to him — the bee with the stinger of pleasure. he works his savage mouth along the length of your slit, as though he lacks the manners of a decently raised man, tongue prodding at your entrance just to be mean. after a while, sukuna stops sucking and making out with your dirty, creamy cunt to nip at your titillating folds, taking one between rows of sharpened pearly whites and gently pulling it away from you.

at the abrupt feeling — you cry out hoarsely in a mix of bliss and surprise, taking a peek at the pink haired man between your spiked thighs with swimming vision. sukuna’s face is soaked, his angled jaw and cheeks and chin glazed in a layer of your slick as if he’s bitten into the ripest piece of fruit in adam and eve’s garden. the trail runs armously down and over his adam’s apple, coaxing your lover into eating you out properly this time.

finally, finally putting his filthy mouth to good use.

“fuck, i love the way y’drool for me down here. got so much to give, don’cha gorgeous?” sukuna mewls into you whilst kitten licking your slit, drinking you in as though you’re a glass of water in an oasis of lust and sex. he chuckles happily at your dreamy sigh and circling hips that grind down on his face, tapping three fingers against your sticky pleasure bud lovingly. annoyingly ( but not without appreciation from you), sukuna takes it a step further by sloppily kissing you there.

even with the time crunch, your pleasure takes priority. eating you out is like a reward for your man, it’s as though he was out on this earth by the gods purely to make you see stars. you feel lucky that he chose you out of all he could where he feels blessed to be the man you let touch you like this.

“mmph, ryo… always g’na be wet f’you. for my man. only you get me this fucked up,” you drawl with a silky voice, making a show of tweaking your own nipples from over your dress for your boyfriend. with the slipperiness of a snake, your hands slide down from between the valley of your heaving breasts, over your clothed tummy ( that twists with knots of ecstasy ) and into the slicked pink locks that tickle your inner thighs. messing up his perfect look, you grip sukuna’s roots and tug on them forcefully — coaxing him further into the debauched realm concealed by the skirts of your dress.

“princess…” ryomen lets out a pathetic, muffled groan — increasing the pace of the tip of his tongue as it lewdly flicks at your sex. “have you always had such a dirty mouth? what would yer daddy think?”

your head tips back at the new, gratifying sensation — ecstasy mounting in your lower tummy like bricks of a steady wall. “for as long as i’ve been yours,” comes your crazed and melodious laughter, only interrupted by pockets of squelching noises emitted from your squelching cunt. “oh baby…i don’t give a fuck about what my ‘daddy’ thinks. only you. let him stay mad — f-fuck! kuna!”

fuelled by the idea of pissing off your stuck up family, tattooed hands move to grip where your legs bend at the knee — pushing them back until your skirt rides up over your fleshy ass and your knees hit your shoulders and the soles of your shoes are able to lay flat against sukuna’s rippling back muscles. he hisses at the slight sting he feels from the pointed heel digging into his skin through his shirt, but it only fucks him up more. your pleasure is his pain, ryomen doesn’t give a fuck about anything else except for how good his girl feels.

somewhere amongst the sweat soaked sheets your phone lets out a shrill cry — signifying a call from someone in your spoiled family. without sukuna’s command, you scramble through the sea of stiff fabric peaks and reach for the device, hitting the answer button before checking the contact.

“h-hello?” you say in a poor attempt to speak clearly, stifling a deep moan. “speak of the devil and the devil shall appear…” comes your shallow whisper as you address your boyfriend. your chest grows sticky with perspiration beneath the bust of your dress — breathing uneven and heavy because of the way ryomen’s tongue wriggles past your tight little hole, squirming about against your lush walls to hit that special spot that has you screaming and seeing stars while on the phone to one of your relatives.

“excuse me, young lady?” it’s your father, much to sukuna’s dismay, his voice is irritatingly recognisable over the crackling of the line. of course he would find some way to unknowingly interrupt yourself and your loving, doting, disapproved boyfriend. “you were supposed to meet your sisters and i for dinner nearly forty minutes ago. where are you?”

sukuna’s agitation shows with each wet kiss he aggressively places between your swollen folds, nasty and miscalculated whilst designed to leave you a shaky mess.“o-oh! hi daddy,” you emphasise the word, voice rising an octave until its light an airy. your swimming, doe eyes lock with crimson ones that bore into the depths of your soul from below — taunting and testing the pink haired man’s patience. “‘m getting ready. don’t you want me to look pretty?”

the silky lilt to the tail end of your words causes sukuna to growl against your pulsating, temperate mound while his fingers yank you down onto his handsome face by your meaty thighs. eagerly, your hips canter down to match the stride of his tongue stroking your pretty pussy as though you’re riding his aching cock to your heart’s content. his tongue fills you up almost as good, warmly slipping and sliding over pleasure spots only he can reach.

he kitten licks and sucks and bites at your raw sex like a wild animal, loudly moaning into you with every roll of your cunt over his face. you taste like heaven, the flavour almost angelic on his tongue. sukuna feels like a sinner with a greedy craving for more and if you cared just a little bit, you might have been concerned about your father catching the lascivious sounds from between your thighs over the phone.

“i’m past the point of caring about how you present yourself at dinner,” your father says your name stern and low — talking to you as if you’re a child and not the woman you’d grown into. “your sisters are ravenous, they flew all the way into the country for this. don’t you think that they deserve an ounce of your time?”

losing yourself to the danger of it all, you chuck your phone to the side after putting it on loud speaker. your lover targets your prominent, adorable clit again, the tip of his tongue rolling it in large circles until you’re close to tearing the sheets from the bed. you try your best to contain the scream building up in your throat, but sukuna has never made it easy for you to keep quiet.

“mph…fuck!”

“young lady! watch your mouth!” your father scolds you, still blissfully unaware of the fact that you’re getting tongue fucked by the man he hates all the way up to cloud nine. “i bet that good for nothing scoundrel has put you up to this. i keep telling you, no daughter of mine should be with a man like that. where is he? he’s the one making you late.”

“actually, dad, sukuna’s been a good boy. sitting all handsome in those suits you like. i’m the one making…oohhh…m-making us late!” cruel carmine eyes flutter at your generous praise, lovesick as a sunburn like blush spreads over the bridge of sukuna’s nose from how desperate he is for you. if you tried your hardest to listen in over the wet sounds of your cunt being sucked on for dear life, along with the shaky delectable laments your lover lets out, you might be able to hear the sound of a zipper going down or the slickness of sukuna’s hand around his meaty shaft as he jerks himself off. no longer able to fight off his desire for you.

your stomach flips at the sight and the pleasure mounts with your impending high, dainty fingers beginning to tug and twist at sukuna’s blushing pink hair. his pain is your pleasure.

“you’ve lost your mind, i didn’t raise you to be like this.”

“you hardly…hardly raised me at all,” the words feel tacky in your mouth, as if it’s been stuffed with cotton that sucks up your saliva. it doesn’t help that your voice begins to waver too, reaching whistle tone notes.

ryomen sukuna doesn’t know what’s hotter, the fact that you’re so easily able to sass your rich, douchey father or the fact that you’re letting him give you head while on the phone. “shit,” he curses as low as possible, using one had to smooth the pad of his thumb over the slit in his cockhead — smearing the precum that beads there over the sensitive flesh. his kiss swollen lips part from your sweet sex for only a moment to taunt you. he remains connected to you by a single rope of clear elixir that leaks from your precious little hole. “god, gorgeous. you’re fuckin’ drenched…all from talkin’ back to daddy, huh?”

a lewd and sacchariferous mewl rumbles from deep in your chest as it rapidly rises and falls. it’s all too much for you to keep up with, you’re way too dizzy and it’s only made worse when sukuna bobs his head between your quivering legs so that his fat tongue drags through the entirety of your ravaged pussy lips.

“holyfuckingshit!” you shoot the man a glare once you remember where you are and who you’re on the phone to.

ryomen offers up a cocky smirk as his excuse before delving beneath your silken skirts once more, though it does nothing to mask how turned on he is — squeezing the base of his drippy shaft to stop himself from cumming too soon to the sight of you.

you try not to forget the presence of your father again, it would be hard to, since he’s insistent on betraying you down the phone. “speak back to me again and i’m cutting you off. starting with cancelling the card you and your mangy boyfriend live off of.”

“do it, i dare you.” you somehow manage to snap back, jolting at the sensation of sukuna’s razor sharp teeth grazing your clit. he hisses deliciously against your sex as your heels cut pretty crescent moons into his back. “i-i wonder what mom would have to say about it if you…if you did!”

silence echoes down the line, broken by small pockets of your boyfriend slurping on your folds like a man starved. slurps that you’re just so blessed to be able to hear. you should feel ashamed instead of hungry, doing nothing to tame the greedy beast inside you that craves more and more of sukuna’s attention on you. you must have lost your mind, for letting him eat you out so brazenly while you converse with your father on the phone. it’s so depraved, so dirty and yet you wouldn’t give this… give sukuna up for the world.

you love him more than anything. love how he treats you like you’re the strongest person he knows whilst handling you as though you’re made of glass. you love how he gets off to you, dribbling thick white from the tip of his cock because you make him a mess enough to need to jerk off. you love how he pleasures you, his baritone laments and simpers muffled against your cunt sending fireworks up your spine and setting them off at your tailbone where your mounting pleasure lies.

you love ryomen ‘sukuna’ itadori, and no amount of scolding from your father will ever change that.

“just…just be here within the hour. please.” your father requests quietly.

“see you soon, daddy,” you hang up the phone faster than a lightning strike, all of your composure flying out of the window with the last dial tone. “ryo, fuck! i’m close… gonna cum. please, hurry!”

“god you’re such a fuckin’ menace, hah, pretty girl?” your pink haired lover quips airily, his jaw tight from flicking his tongue against your sex in sync with his fist flicking around his throbbing dick, slinging precum about the place. he’s amused and love sick all at once, a feeling that was once foreign to ryomen before he met you. “gotcha so turned on by talking back to your dad, yeah? all while i ate this pretty fuckin’ pussy out… so nasty,” only sukuna could make you feel this loved while degrading you, the only man who’s ever been able to do so. none of them could come close to knowing your body like he does, the way you twitch when you’re close and start to pout like a spoilt brat when you’re frustrated from waiting for your orgasm.

sukuna takes the edge off by lifting a tattooed arm and slapping his hand down on the entirety of your cut — letting out a haughty moan at the sight of glistening droplets of arousal flying about the place while your heels drag down his back with delightful pain. you cry out, but your boyfriend’s mouth is back on you in seconds — soothing your poor pussy. “‘m so lucky to have you though, my nasty fuckin’ princess,” he mewls into you, using his tongue to bully your g-spot over and over and over while he fists his precum glazed cock into oblivion. “gonna make you cum, gorgeous girl. let you make a mess in my mouth, you want that?”

��m-more than anything, ryo!” you wail, fighting back tears as you spew a fresh wave of your sweet nectar from your pathetic hole. you do have a dinner to get to after all, you should only be crying from one place. your cunt. the sound of said squelching cunt and your dulcet whines make sukuna’s balls twitch with a load he would only dedicate to you. “i love you, love you s’much…love you,”

the delirium starts to catch up with you, becoming too much to bare as you babble nonsense into the sex tainted air. you can’t hold back, some of your release already beginning to stream out of you. “‘m gonna cum, ryo…cum with me, please!” you squeal in warning, mere seconds before your body succumbs to sukuna’s eager tongue and the wrath of your orgasm.

“love you too, s’much,” your glittery heels knock behind his sweaty mass of pink hair, cutting into his back as he walks you through it all. “f-fuck baby, that’s it,” he goads as you gush into his mouth like a tidal wave. you have so much to give, release trickling into his mouth, painting his cheeks and sliding down his adam’s apple in a viscous current. sukuna is swept away by the arousal in the air, drinking you in as he pumps his cock harshly and in tune with the way you weakly hump at his face through the aftershocks.

pulling his sticky mouth away from your equally sticky sex, sukuna replaces his tongue with three of his fingers to your clit — coaxing you through the rest of your high as he draws random shapes on the puffy nub. “keep that orgasm goin’ for me, pretty princess, give it to me…give it t’me while i fill you up,” he rambles brainlessly, abruptly standing up as he fists his cock pulled out from the zipper of his dress pants — barely fighting back his own orgasm. “spread those fuckin’ legs, wanna cum inside.”

“ryo!”

“ahh, fuckin’…fuuuck!” in one swift move, your boyfriend slips his sensitive and bulbous cockhead past your quivering, orgasming entrance — shallowly thrusting into your tight heat as you spasm around him, before he’s thrown off the edge into his own high. “c-cummin’…” hot sticky ropes of white seed flood your womb, which sukuna keeps plugged into you as he folds you over — chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat. your heels clink at the dip in his waist behind his back. you’re still cumming as languid thrusts smear your boyfriend’s cum against your rippling walls, but you’re content, breathing beginning to even out as you both come down from cloud nine.

still releasing in small spurts, ryomen slowly pulls out of you with soft kisses pressed to the side of your face. “sorry, didn’t wanna fuck up my pants before dinner,” he chuckles over the warm static spreading over your happy little brain.

you offer him your own dopey laughter, remaining sprawled out underneath your hunk of a man. “so you decide to just jizz inside of me? you’re a class act ryo. what about my dress?”

“first of all, you don’t like it when shit goes to waste ‘n second off all, i made damn sure that it stuck. your dress is fine, brat.” a chaste kiss is pressed to your nose as sukuna helps you sit up, double checking for any mess he might have left between your shaky legs. “let me clean you up, don’t want your dad findin’ out what we were really up to all this time.”

“pretty sure he already knows,” you shrug, rolling your ankles as you lean down to fix a strap on your heel. “you’re a messy eater, ryo.”

but before you can fix your shoe back into place, ryomen sukuna is already on it — adjusting the strap to sit comfortably on your leg before he stands again and retreats to the bathroom for a warm cloth to clean you up with.

you watch with a smirk as he goes, admiring all of the little red marks on his shoulder blades you’ve left on him with your shoes. “then i guess i’ll have to use some fuckin’ table manners at dinner,” he remarks childishly. “but i can’t help how delicious you look in those heels, gorgeous.”

and it’s true, you’re the only meal sukuna could ever want — especially when you leave your claim on him with high heels like that.

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inkyray · 20 days

Text

INKED

MATT STURNIOLO

a/n: this is my first oneshot and i deadass have no idea what im doing, go easy on me. im so used to writing full stories i kind of struggle with stand alone oneshots but yeah, i appreciate constructive criticism

3.6k words

warnings/content ahead: the bitch is getting tattooed yall, smut, p in v, brief fingering, degrading, hair pulling, the plot that leads up to the smut is longer than the smut itself ☠️

๑

You felt the prickly needle press ink in and out of your flesh, it spared small stings that you didn't exactly hate. Nick sat on his living room couch not far away from you, but still far enough to raise his voice a little so you could properly hear him. He had a good bond with the tattoo artist, and she didn't mind coming to his house to ink him up.

Nick sat with his short sleeve rolled above his shoulder, revealing a tattoo he had just got done with. His shoulder is sore and red, covered in a layer of antibiotic ointment and plastic wrap. Earlier today he had invited you over, since he knew how long you've been wanting a tattoo, and you had decided you know what, fuck it. You tagged along. You and Nick are close, he's one of your only best friends in LA, since it isn't really where you're originally from. You two would hang out any chance the other was free.

It often got annoying for his other brothers how much you were around, but they had caught a quick loving for you and found the place empty and weird when you weren't there, considering how much you were with Nick.

The buzzing of the tattoo machine filled the silent void before it was interrupted by a TikTok Nick was watching on full volume, making you two laugh as the tattoo artist held down on your waist to keep you from messing her up. You were getting a tramp stamp tattoo on your lower back, your sweatpants folded right on where your underwear begins.

A few minutes pass of just buzzing, your stinging skin, loud TikToks, and the smell of antiseptic.

"We should make a TikTok." Nick announced after a while. You raise an eyebrow, "Now?" you wondered. Nick nods, taking the throw blanket from off of him and getting up. "I don't know Nick, kind of in the middle of getting a tattoo." You smiled up at him as he got closer. You were laying on your stomach, your body against the black leather chair wrapped in plastic, but your elbows kept the rest of your body that weren't your ribs, up, so you could use your phone.

"Oh please, you look hot as hell right now." He stood, chuckling. You rolled your eyes. "Nick. I'm in sweatpants and a tank." Nick looked at you from his phone, tapping a few things on there which you assumed had to do with TikTok. He quite literally sighed. "You are so unaware of yourself, girl."

You shrugged and blew him a kiss. "So TikTok or nah? I want to do, like a transition of our tattoos and us lip syncing to some shit song from the 2010's. I already made a draft of myself doing it before I got this bad boy." He points to his new splotchy tattoo of the bat on his shoulder. "Yeah, guess so. You're gonna have to film me in the midst of getting my tattoo, though. I didn't exactly record myself before this."

With the press of a time skip button, you guys filmed the TikTok, posted it, and Nick declared he was tired, going for a nap to his room. This wasn't out of the ordinary for him to be asleep with you here, you'd do it all the time when he was at your place, and either one of you guys eventually followed in the others footsteps, finishing whatever you were doing and going to lay beside them to sleep too.

The front door of the house opened, and you already knew it was Matt and Chris. They were running errands for their manager and Nick had decided to stay behind with you, since you were planning on getting tattoos together. Footsteps creep into the place and you wait for their reaction. They didn't exactly know you were also getting one, and they knew about your commitment issues with tattoos, so this was kind of a big deal.

Chris walks in first and doesn't even turn to look at you, assuming you were Nick getting tattooed. "You're still getting inked? How big is your bat supposed to be, Nick." He grabs a Pepsi from the fridge and pops it open. "Pretty big." You answered, your head resting on your palm as he turned to look at you, Matt following closely behind.

"Oh, shit." Chris gulps down the Pepsi, walking over to you as he inspects the tattoo on your lower back. "How does it look?" You question as you see Matt stop in his tracks and come closer to get a better look at it. "Fucking sexy. Good job." He holds out his fist and you bump it, smiling at the comment.

You feel Matt's gaze linger too long on your skin as Chris goes back into the kitchen, making another comment about the tattoo you didn't quite catch. The stinging on your back now feels ice cold. "What do you think, Matt?" You wonder, turning your head slightly to look at him.

"Bold. For someone like you." He mutters, walking over to the kitchen to grab a root beer, maneuvering around Chris since he's constantly in his way. You scoff. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Is Nick sleeping?" Chris asks, you nod, he quickly goes looking for him.

"What I mean is that it's a tattoo decision I would've never thought you'd pick." Matt says, looking at you from the kitchen as he sips from his drink. This could mean so many things and you found yourself getting confused. What? "Matt, I'm gonna need you to elaborate."

It wasn't a secret that you were the least closest with Matt. Everytime you'd try to do the things you'd do with Nick but with him, there'd be some sort of thick invisible fog in the air, making you hyper-aware of everything you're doing and saying. Your chest always felt too heavy around Matt and the tension it weighed on you was too much. It wasn't normal, and you were sure Matt could feel it too. You knew a lot of stuff about him, and he knew a lot about you, but there was something between you two keeping you from taking the extra step of declaring you guys close.

He lets his eye's dart everywhere in thought, putting together how he's going to explain it to you. "Mmmm," he mumbles, "...no." He decides as he begins to leave the room, stopping in his tracks before he fully leaves, peeking his head around the corner. "You look good though, what Chris said." And he leaves.

You are beyond confused, you turn your head toward the tattoo artist, who was sharing the same look on her face. She spared you a shrug.

It's been a few weeks and your tattoo is fully healed, you loved the way you felt with it. The urge to get a million more tattoos on you was strong, but you held back.

On the other hand, being around Matt had begun getting more unbearable by the day. When you two were left alone, there was nothing to talk about. You would shift uncomfortably and he would bring out his phone as a distraction, doing nothing significant on it other than switch between apps. You were too aware of the other and the air around you would increasingly thicken. You were sure if you tried, you could slice through it with a knife.

Right now, was one of those times. Matt in the driver's seat and you were in the middle back seat, Chris and Nick had gone inside a store to grab a few stuff.

You watched his fingers tap the steering wheel, his thumb patiently rubbing against it, studying the fact they were slender and long, trained by veins that went down his hands. They looked so perfect under the gleaming hour of the sun. His nails weren't painted, so his short nails naturally colored themselves pink with a small white hill on his thumb. You let your imagination run free. Touching the dip of your waist or massaging the inside of your thigh. His fingers curving themselves inside you…

His eyes darted at the rear mirror, catching you focused on his hands. It took you a second too long to realize that. You looked up at the mirror and found his blue eyes fixated on you, dark hair sitting across his forehead and strands messily on his eyes. Your heart gave you a loud thump and a punch in the face of flushing blood. You didn't look away from his eyes, but you could still see his thumb grazing against the steering wheel.

Your brain was empty of words. You had no idea what to say and you were sure neither did he, until he began to speak. "What ever happened to that tattoo?" He asked, still looking at you from the mirror. You furrowed your eyebrows. It takes you a second until you realize he was talking about the tramp stamp you have. "It ran away." You answered blankly, because what kind of question was that supposed to be.

Matt sighed, looking out of the window, you watched him look outside as you calculated the messy hair that didn't seem too bad to pull on. "I mean, it never made an appearance again. No one ever saw it ever since you got it." He said. A small smile forms onto your mouth. "Some people have seen it." You mutter lightly, not bothering to look away from him as he goes back looking at you.

"Is that so?" He wasn't smiling, his face was processing a look of annoyance. You wink.

The car doors are pulled open and in one sudden movement, Chris comes in with a laugh and sits next to you, Nick follows closely behind, chuckling in that deep-voiced way he does after he made a joke he was proud of, and seating himself in the passenger seat. "Why are you sitting here?" Matt questions, not bothering to ask what they're laughing at. Chris takes out a Mento and offers you one, you reluctantly take it and let it sit in your mouth, wanting to suck the flavor out before you chew it.

Nick laughs even harder. "Oh, I didn't even realize I was sitting here. Chris, and you just let me?" Chris cackles, "It doesn't matter Nick, it's just the passenger seat." He puts an arm around you. "Plus I wanted to sit with her." He tells you specifically, looking at you as he begins to chew the Mento. "How I am honored." You sarcastically put a hand to your heart, not once taking your eyes off Matt. He was expressionless and began driving.

The conversation held on and turned into a different topic, you would make sly remarks here and there but for you, the entire ride home was hard. Matt would catch you staring at him, and when he had to turn the car back with his hand behind Nick's headrest, he would look at you longer than the road behind him. He didn't look really… pleased. Which had you amused.

He was upset that he wasn't one of the people who got to see your tattoo finished and healed, and you were catching onto that. The longer they'd drive, the more stern his expression would shift. He got progressively more and more irritated throughout the ride.

They make it home and Matt doesn't even give you a glance, he immediately heads to his bedroom and makes it known by his silence he'd like to be left alone. Okay, drama queen. You thought.

You had to go see what was up, it was just in you. After the conversation you two barely had and the eye content you held, which you were pretty sure was a hallucination you pulled out of your ass, you were curious to see just how riled up he was. Or you could get him.

Chris and Nick get a call from their manager saying she's outside, picking them up so she could explain to Nick something that had to do with their merch. Apparently she already spoke about it to Matt, so it'd just be Chris and Nick going to their studio warehouse to see, since that's where all their merch first goes.When they leave, your thought process changes in a matter of seconds. Seeing how upset he is, you want to see how hard you could push his buttons.

You approach his room and knock 3 times. No answer is received, you raise your fist to knock a second time, and by the first knock the door is pulled half open, revealing Matt looking down at you, expecting you. "What?" He asks, his eyelids drooping as he looks at you blankly. He changed into gray sweatpants and a black T-shirt.

"Can I come lay down next to you? I barely got any sleep last night." You lightly fluttered your lashes at him, holding your phone with both your hands. Matt stares at you, inspecting just how tired you looked. You looked fine, but he still opened the door wide enough for you to enter, not saying anything.

You lay on his silk bed sheets. Silk. What a slut. He sits in front of his computer, and boots open a game, not bothering to acknowledge you here. You don't like that. After leaving yourself alone with your thoughts for a while today, the least thing you wanted was to be ignored. Especially by him. Even if it meant annoying him, you just wanted to have some sort of contact with him. Either verbally or physically, you don't mind a single bit.

You clear your throat. "Thanks, Matty." He grimaces at the nickname, used to hearing his family say to him, but not from you. "My legs have been hurting all day." You say, cuddling into his pillows, stretching hard enough to arch your back. A real yawn escapes your lips.

"You don't work out, don't play that dumb shit with me." He says, turning his head to look at you for a moment, before turning back to look at his monitor. "Who said anything about working out?" You tell him. He stops, completely forgetting what he was supposed to be looking at.

"I don't know, I guess my tattoo really does magical wonders for me." A smile slips through your lips as you turn the other direction, your back facing him as your shirt exposes the tattoo, your pants hanging dangerously low on your hips.

You can't see him, but you hear him turn, and you feel yourself getting excited. "Why'd you get it?" He asks and you turn your head softly to look at him. His question was simple, but the expression on his face certainly wasn't. "Why does anybody really get a tramp stamp, Matty?" You respond to his question with another one, and he is giving you a look of impatience.

"Just fucking answer me right now, sweetheart." His voice isn't loud, but his anger is. He practically huffs and you feel yourself getting immensely more attracted to his aggressiveness. You turn your head back to the other side, leaving him unanswered as he burns holes in the back of hair, knowing that would tick him off.

You hear shuffling and then the bed dips, and your heart literally does skip a beat. You swallow your built up spit down your throat as Matt grasps your jaw and makes you look at him, your eyes meeting his blue ones immediately. "Don't look away from me, y/n. Why'd you get that fucking tattoo?" He held your jaw firmly. He was on the bed rooted on his knees, looking down at you as you laid on his pillows.

Your smile somehow got wider, flashing him your white teeth as you slowly parted them to answer. "So you could fuck me." Your eyes were staring intensely at him but in a lazy manner.

Matt's eyes narrowed, darting between your eyes and your mouth. "You fucking whore." He muttered, his lips pressing onto yours so much faster than you could say the word 'whore' itself. Your eyes screwed itself shut and took the opportunity as fast as you could, kissing him back harsher.

He let go of the kiss too quickly, which only frustrated you. "You got that tattooed for me, baby?" He wonders, his voice is hoarse and breathy. You nod so fast your hold almost fell off, and as embarrassing as it was, it was true.

You had only 1 body since before the tattoo, and you barely even counted it. Constantly being around Matt but not knowing how to go about it made you more desperate. He did something to you no one had ever done. Sometimes you would feel yourself pulsing for him, imagining your fingers as his.

The reason why you had even begun considering a tramp stamp is because of the sick fantasies that they held, using Matt as its lead.

Recently you got laid, and it was underwhelming and disappointing. Your legs actually hurted because you did a few squats the day prior, not because the sex was good.

"You fucking liar." He was smiling but nothing in his tone was friendly, his eyebrows were furrowed but his grin was undeniable. You licked his mouth and he pressed against your lips. "I wouldn't lie to you, Matty." You moan into the kiss, feeling his hand trail down your body and to your waist. A hand was on the dip of your waist and the other was holding your jaw secure.

Your heart was quite literally out of its body now, his soft hand trailing to feel your bare skin under your shirt, grazing just the hill of your bare chest, purposely not touching your nipples. In a sudden movement, he cups your breast and your whimper is muffled under the kiss.

He has his knees caging both sides of your thigh, pressing his knee into you. He smirks as you gasp. "Lift your hips for me?" He pulls away, a small string of saliva connecting you two. You look straight at his eyes as you lift them, making sure he holds eye contact. And he does. He does as he curls his fingers along the strap of your pants and shoves them off.

"Let me see it." He orders. You grin, raising an eyebrow. "That could go for a lot of stuff." He grabs the side of your underwear and lets go of it, having it snap against your skin. "The tattoo. I want to see it." His voice is more demanding, more gruffly. Your pussy was soaked.

"No." You tell him all with a sly smile, you liked him aggressive and didn't mind seeing how far he'd go. In a sudden movement, you are flipped to your stomach, your hair is being gripped by his hand, pulling your head up as you feel his fingers tracing your tattoo. His fingers were too light. Too soft on your skin, you felt your back arch as he decided to balance the softness with a harsh slap on your ass.

Some hair was loose, out of his grip, resting on your back. The rest are being pulled closer to him, you feel his hot breath whisper in your ear. "You slut." A smirk spreads on your face, biting your bottom lip close enough to leave it bleeding. "You talk a lot." You tell him. He forces your shirt from off of you, leaving you just in your black lace panties.

You're still on your stomach, your bare chest pressing against his silk sheets. Your underwear is slipped off of you. Two fingers found their way to your pussy, sensitivity rubbing against it, your back arching your ass into his hard dick. "Fuck me already, Matt." You moan, knowing he's only touching you to get you overstimulated. He ignores what you're saying, responding to what's going on in his mind. "You look so beautiful. Bending yourself for me on my bed, begging for my cock."

His fingers rub against your folds, flipping your stomach inside out, pressing against your clit and your moan comes out louder than intended. "So wet for me." He licks his lips. Just as you were about to push yourself against his fingers, he let go abruptly. A huff leaves your lips and you whine. "Sorry, baby, you need something?" He mocks. You give him a noise of annoyance in response.

He grabs your ass hard, and to your surprise, you feel his tip at your entrance. You immediately clench around it and you hear him moan. He shoves himself inside of you and you practically scream, your whimpering gets louder each thrust he makes in and out of you. "You feel that, slut? Is this what you wanted?" He groans, not bothering to stop. You answer by pushing yourself onto him, fucking yourself to him.

You pushed your lips into your mouth, loving the sound of his moans and whimpers. Your head was pressed against his pillow, and he went faster, tears started prickling your eyes, shutting them. Your noises were getting more intense and a knot began forming in your stomach.

"I'm.. oh fuck–" Before you could even finish what you were saying, you release. Matt slows down, every push in is longer and slippery with your liquid, your pussy tightens around him and he mutters a quick "fuck" and pulls out, cumming all over you.

You turn to look at him. He looked back at you. There were many times you thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world, but now, seeing your hair a mess and its baby hairs sticking to your forehead, your lips sore and red from his aggressive kisses bare on his bed, he thought he was looking at a goddess. You glare at him, noticing he's been staring at a few seconds too long. "What?"

"I think I might need to see that tattoo one more time."

(idk how a tags list works)

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norrizzandpia · 9 months

Text

Edits (CL16)

Summary: When Carlos exposes Y/n watching edits of her boyfriend on Instagram. She’s incredibly embarrassed, but after an interesting conversation with the man himself, should she really be?

Warnings: nothing i dont think lmk tho

"Bye, baby! I'll see you in a little." Charles smiled down at his girlfriend as his thumb caressed the side of her face.

She smiled up at him, accepting the kiss he planted on her lips, before letting out a small "bye" and watching him walk out the door.

"I am not going to lie, Y/n. You are pretty cute together." Carlos said as he watched his partner walk out.

Y/n laughed before looking at her boyfriend's best friend, "Thank you? Did you not think that before?"

"Yes, I did. I just realized I never told you." He said, his accent bleeding into his voice and the smirk on his face deepening. Carlos had known how 'cute' they were from the start. He had endured the long rants from Charles about Y/n and how pretty she was. It had taken Charles so long to ask the girl out and when he finally had, Carlos almost threw his hands up and rejoiced. The poor monegasque had spent months pining over the girl and it was obvious she liked him too, but neither party took the chance. Until Charles did. Since then, the two had fallen in love, moved into together, and practically gotten engaged with how much they talked about their future together.

Y/n shook her head, a big smile evident on her face, as she took out her phone, prepared to waste an hour or two on her phone while she waited for her boyfriend to come back. After about 30 minutes on Instagram, she moved to TikTok. It was no secret Y/n found her boyfriend extremely attractive considering the multiple times she had shamelessly checked him out or said outloud how hot he was, however, the girl's 'For You Page' was something of another nature. Endless scrolling to find that the only videos were edits of Charles. She wouldn't ever like them, trying to keep a low profile, but she would move them to her favorites. Whenever Charles was away or they had a busy day and they hadn't seen each other, she would open that page of favorites and scroll for hours, reliving everything her boyfriend was and is. When she opened the app, she always tried to be alone, knowing what lied within the app's algorithm for her. Although, she had completely forgotten about Carlos who had moved to sit behind her at a table while they rested in Charles' racer suite. So, when the Spanish racer caught a glance of what his friend's girlfriend was watching over her shoulder, he had to hold in his laugh. Immediately, and with absolutely no hesitation, Carlos whipped out his phone and opened to his camera app. Taking a few second video of F1's favorite girlfriend watching thirst trap edits about her boyfriend was something he knew would be extremely funny and something that would go viral.

Clearly, Carlos could care less about the embarrassment Y/n would later hold.

Which she did. After a few minutes of Carlos having posted the video on his Instagram story, thousands had saw it and reposted it. Y/n was quick to turn around in her seat and see the mischievous grin laid out on the Spaniard.

"CARLOS!" She yelped, her phone waving around in her hand. He didn't say anything back, he just began to laugh. Hard.

The y/h/c haired girl's cheeks flushed as she groaned, knowing how much the rest of the paddock would tease her for this. Before either of them could say anything, the man of the hour strolled through the door.

"Hey, guys!" His smile melted Y/n's heart and she almost forgot all about the TikTok situation. Almost.

Charles' smile dropped as he saw the worry etched into the face of his girlfriend.

"What's wrong?" He said, his eyes frantically searching over her body.

"Charles, give me your phone." "Look at your Instagram." Both Y/n and Carlos said at the same time, making Charles eyes dart towards Carlos. Y/n glared at the man whose number was 55 and she silently pleaded, with her hands out, for Charles to give her his phone. She didn't know what she was going to do if he gave it to her, but it sounded something like deleting every app off his phone.

Charles gave a confused look to the two before his phone dinged. Y/n watched in horror and Carlos watched in amusement as Charles scrolled through his notifications before clickling his screen a few times and pausing, his warm smile being replaced by that toothy grin he gave Y/n when he thought she was cute as he looked at her through his lashes. Y/n hid her face in her hands before Charles broke the silence.

"Are you- Are you watching edits of me?" He said it in disbelief as he moved closer to her, giving Carlos a shooing motion which they both knew was him telling Carlos to get out of the room. Carlos listened, Y/n hearing shuffling as he exited the room. She felt Charles' warmth radiating towards her as he began to stand over her, slowly taking her hands in his and lowering them to her sides. When he could see her beautiful face, as he loved to call it, he brought her into his arms and kissed her forehead.

"Don't be embarrassed, ma chérie, it's cute. Plus, it's not like I don't do it too." Y/n's face scrunched up in confusion as she met his eyes that were already focused on her.

"You watch edits of yourself?" Charles only laughed at this before tightening his hold on her, pulling her flush against him.

"No, gioia mia, I watch edits of you." Her face was overtaken by more confusion.

There were edits of her?

"Yes, of course. People aren't blind, mon amour." It took her a second to understand that what she had thought in her head had come out of her mouth as well, but when she did, Charles was already taking out his phone and opening TikTok. She watched as he slid through the app to find his page of favorites. She scanned the rows of videos and found that they were all of her. She couldn't help the smile that began to find its way on her face as he continued to scroll down and proved that every video was of her.

He leaned down and kissed her, pulling away to look her in the eye as he said,

"What do you think I do when I'm away on my work trips?"

#f1 imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine

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luvrgrlellie · 8 months

Text

ellie’s kinks

warnings: smut

alright so we’ve already established that ellie is most definitely a top/dom. nothing turns her on more than having you submit to her and let you do anything she wants to you, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t prioritize your pleasure. she’s always putting you first.

by the time she even thinks about cumming, you’ve already finished twice

if she’s ever receiving (still in control of course) and she’s already eaten you out or fingered you, she doesn’t even need foreplay because just getting you off is enough to make her soaked

she lovesss to use a good mix of degradation and praise. the duality of being both her dirty little slut and good girl at the same time >>> 🤤🤤😋😋

“doing so good for me. my good girl. you look so slutty on my cock right now baby.”

she wouldn’t ask you to call her anything other than ellie and never felt strongly about being called something other than her name during sex until she learns that you like it and it gets you going. all of a sudden she’s all about it!!! 😋

definitely wants to be called daddy over mommy. and once you start calling her it she gets a lil obsessed with it. no surprise since we know our girl loves control.

“you call me ellie one more time and you’re not cumming tonight, you hear me???”

“c’mere let daddy take care of you”

another thing that’s no surprise due to her need for control is ellie’s love of tying you up. having you stuck at her mercy, squirming and begging for her to touch you (or to stop touching you, SHE LOVES OVERSTIM <3) is insanely hot to her. lots of teasing going on every time you’re tied up too.

“so needy for me, huh? use your words and tell me what you want.”

ellie aloves to get you as desperate as possible before she fucks you while you’re tied up. one way she gets you begging every damn time is leaning in slowly for a kiss and then pulling away at the last minute. drives you crazy so it’s of course extremely amusing to her. she does it over and over again with a smirk on her face until you’re close to tears.

speaking of tears SHEEESH this girls got a thing for you crying on her strap (or her fingers or her tongue). your cute little whimpers and tear-stained cheeks just make her wanna pound you even harder. you look so cute, teary-eyed and overwhelmed all because of her.

“awww is it too much for you, baby???”

“shhh, just take it, take it. that’s it.”

girlie’s def got a bit of an exhibitionism kink which will manifest in several ways. one of which is her love for using toys on you in public.

she’d love the classic vibrating-underwear-at-dinner trope. she thinks it’s so fun to watch you squirm all night and then reward you by making you cum over and over again when you get home.

also a fan of making you wear a butt plug on random errands just because 🤷🏼‍♀️

another part of her exhibitionism kink is her love of fucking you in random places where people might see/hear/walk in - the club bathroom, a store dressing room, movie theater - you name it. ellie’s already thought about fucking you there.

circling back to butt stuff since I mentioned the plug hehe, stuffing all 3 of your holes at once = one of ellie’s top 3 favorite things on earth. one strap in your mouth, another in your pussy, her thumb or a plug in your ass. someone could simply nudge her clit while she watched that and she’d cum all over herself. thinking i need to make a whole post about ellie + butt stuff now

overall ellie just loves having control, so anything that gives her more of it and makes you a pathetic horny mess is her kink ;))))

fuck y’all i think i need to crack a window CUZ IT IS HOT IN HEREEEEE. the filthy heinous VILE things I would let this woman do to me…

xoxo,

a ;)

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

2K notes · View notes

thot4ellie · 2 months

Text

oh sweetheart pt 3

pairing: boxer!ellie x f! jesses sister!reader

word count: 5.4k!!! longest part yet yay

rating: 18+ (smut will be coming in later parts)

warnings: dealer! boxer!ellie, weed, alcohol, boxing, kissing, joel is dead in this, talk of abusive relationship, smoking, they’re drunk but eveything is consensual ofc! lmk if im missing anything

summary: you and ellie share a moment and both of you admit it :)

author notes: hi everyone thank you for all the love on this series <<<333 this is a good one! not all the way edited yet but i wanted to post cause i finished it 20 minutes ago! sorry for the wait but i think maybe some smut in the near future ;) requests are open and id love any feedback. thank you for 200 followers and over almost 2000 likes!! this is unbelievable and im so grateful! pls let me know if u want to be added to the taglist!!!

part 3 | part 4

series masterlist | main masterlist

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

finally friday is here, it feels like you’ve been counting the minutes until you see her again. you woke up around eleven am and put water in the kettle to make yourself some tea as you went to the bathroom to get your morning routine done, paramore playing over your speaker in the bathroom. your routine is something you’ve started to build since you moved to try and keep your anxiety at bay, not all the time it works but its a good way to get your day started. you started with washing your face, brushing your teeth, then brushing the bedhead out of the mess you call hair.

a couple minutes later, you hear the kettle hiss and you make your way back to the kitchen and turn off the stove. you picked your favorite mug out of your cabinet and make your tea. leaving the kitchen, you went back to sit on the couch and think about a million different outcomes that would possibly happen tonight when you see her. you wonder if you’re reading too much into the way she talked to you, was she even flirting with you at all? or just being nice? did she just feel bad about seeing what happened outside her gym?

your phone buzzed in the mist of your thoughts on your and you read a text from dina telling you they’re leaving for the gym around 7 and if you wanted a ride. before responding you pulled up the weather app on your phone and decided you could walk there, its a warm summer day out again and by the time the sun fell, it would be cool enough to walk and it was only about 15 minutes from your house, that and leaving open the possibility that she would want to drive you home again.

you texted her back saying that you would just meet them there. you looked at the time seeing its about eleven thirty so you still have a while until you have to leave. you decided you were gonna be productive today. you did laundry and washed your sheets, did the dishes, vacuumed, cleaned the bathroom and made a sandwich for lunch even thought by now it was 4 o clock. as you were walking around your apartment, you made a mental note to try and find some nice thrift stores around to help you decorate your place. you made your way to your bathroom to shower for tonight.

you love taking long showers, its your guilty pleasure. thanking god that your landlord pays your water bill as you dried off from the shower, put on your strawberry lotion, a big black t-shirt and fuzzy socks to hang around in while you did your hair and minimal makeup. you couldn’t stop thinking about seeing her tonight. new girl was playing on the tv in your room as you finished the final touches on your face. doing light everything since its hot but still wanting to look nice for the occasion: finally seeing her again.

four episodes later and its 6 o clock so you change into a pair of black levi shorts and a green top. your hair and makeup still looked good from earlier so nothing to touch up but you still triple checked yourself. you wish you could have smoked today to help beat the nerves but you wouldn’t have anything until tonight, smiling to yourself thinking of you and her on the phone both laughing when you asked if she was bribing you. you slipped on your converse, grabbed your bag, and locked the front door behind you and started making your way to ellie’s gym.

you got there around seven and you didn’t see jesses car yet but you did see hers. ellie’s beat up 2000 green honda cry sat in a spot towards the back of the parking lot. memories of you leaning on her window practically admitting you liked when she called you sweetheart and the peaceful feeling of comfortable silence you both held.

you heard someone call your name in the distance to turn and see dina getting out of the car, you were so concentrated on ellies car you didn’t even see them pull in. you made your way over and greeted them with a hug as dina wrapped your arm in hers and dragged you in with her, jesse following behind. you tried to calm your nerves but it just wasn’t working. not nervous about being here, even after what happened outside with the man last time, but of seeing her again. you’ve only spoken to her a handful of times but you thought of her more times than you can count.

as soon as you made it closer towards the front door, it was loud, like the first time you were here. loud people, loud lights, loud everything but now knowing it was ellie’s changed it. jesse held the door as dina went in first and you both followed. florescent lights beamed from above you, shining on the sweaty bodies in the gym. it was just like it was the first time you came. your nerves followed you everywhere, but it was worth seeing her again.

you went in and dina guided you guys to the same table you had last time. you wonder if they sit here every time. you looked around for ellie but you didn’t see her anywhere. you saw her car so she has to be here.

dina and jesse got up to go get drinks from the makeshift bar while you sat and waited for them to bring back your drink. you looked over to them waiting their turn when you heard something behind you.

“hey sweetheart,” she whispered close to your ear, and before you could respond she pulled out the the seat next to you and sat down.

“hey ellie,” you said almost startled. she was wearing a pair of skinny jeans, a black t shirt and all her tattoos were showing this time. it was almost mind blowing seeing her and you couldn’t even explain what it did to you. you don’t understand why a girl you barely know has this effect on you.

“i told you to call me el,” she said and laughed kindly towards you, “i have the stuff for you” she finished.

“oh thank you, i’d hope so considering that’s the reason i came,” you joked.

“wait you mean you didn’t come to see me?” she said sounding fake hurt.

“that was just a plus,” you flirted. dina and jesse came back to the table with the drinks before she responded to you and they both greeted ellie as they sat.

“hey els we didn’t see you before we ordered the drinks, i can go get one for ya?” jesse asked her.

“nah i’ll wait til the next round, thanks though” she told him. she smiled at you and the conversation started between all four of you, before you knew it an hour and a half passed, you had more three more rounds and just enjoyed your friday night. the match started and you find it so convenient that you can still see the ring from where the table is so theres no need to get up and watch considering its not ellie up there.

you watched for a bit until it was coming to the end, cheering erupted and ellie told dina and jesse that she was going out for a smoke, before she got up, she leaned over to you and whispered “you coming sweetheart?” softly in your ear, her face inches away from yours, then she moved back and smiled. she held out her hand and you held it as she pulled you up with her as you blushed so hard, you swear you turned into a tomato.

your eyes stayed on her hand holding yours and the beautiful moth tattoo covering her arm, not believing that she’s actually touching you again. you followed behind her as she moved with you through the gym towards the door, as you walked out still hand in hand you saw the side of the building, it was the same place she defended you the first time you met her.

she lead you over to a bench that you never even realized was there. your hands broke as you both sat, she went pull out her cigarette pack and the lighter from her back pocket when she noticed you were staring at her still. she smirked as she opened the pack, and surprisingly pulled out a joint. she put it in her mouth and brought the lighter up to it before telling you “its not polite to stare sweetheart.”

you blushed and looked away as soon as she said it. she laughed and she passed the joint to you, you told her you just couldn’t help it. and you really couldn’t, she’s breathtaking. the way her freckles danced across her whole face, her eyes had a small tint of brown circling her iris, the scar on her right eyebrow, the way her lips just sat perfectly on her face. you so badly want to reach out and touch them again.

you hit it a couple times, you are sure your cheeks haven’t been back to normal since you saw her and you wonder if she’s noticed. you passed her back the joint and she staring at you taking in every detail of you too as she brought it to her mouth and took a hit. blowing out the smoke she smirked, and said “i can’t either sweetheart.”

she leaned back against the bench, legs spread a little as she handed you the joint and asked, “so what brought you here besides jesse?” she acquired. you told her about living in brooklyn, above the cafe you worked and how your time spent there wasn’t totally great but the real reason was running from a shitty past, you weren’t ready to tell her specifics but you told her that’s why you left, you had to get away from what happened there but it was more like who. she told you she understood and then she told you “well i’m glad you’ve made your way here sweetheart.”

you don’t know if it was the alcohol or weed but you sat outside on the bench for another 20 minutes, smoking and laughing as you talked about so much: you talked about the tv shows you’re both watching, the albums you had on repeat, the guilty pleasures you both had and what you both did in your free time. you spoke to one another like you’ve known each other for years. it just feels so good to talk to someone like this again.

she learned that your parents live in portland, so moving coasts was a big deal but you felt like you were on auto-pilot growing up and you knew you had to get out when you could, she learned that you dropped out of college two years and haven’t made any plans to go back but you would like to. you told her a couple funny stories about you and jesse growing up and she laughed at them all.

you found out that she plays guitar and that she spends time drawing and journaling. you learn that ellie was adopted when she was 14, she grew up in boston, and she has an older sister named sarah but that she doesn’t come around much anymore since she gotten married. she told you that her dad passed away from a heart attack about a year ago and since then, her and her uncle tommy.

“im sorry to hear about your dad els” you sympathized.

“its okay sweetheart, just fucking sucks sometimes.” she responded softly as she put the joint out next to her and slipped it back in her cigarette pack. instead this time she pulled out a cigarette and lit that this time. she slid it in her pocket before she stood up off the bench, offering you her hand again and said you should probably head back inside.

you grabbed her warm hand and stood up to follow her, you started the walk towards the side door but before she opened it, she turned around to you and faced you.

“hey sweetheart?” she asked.

“yes els?” you waited for her to continue, her hand still covering yours.

“im glad you came sweetheart, this was nice, i mean as nice as it gets sitting on the side of this place,” she laughed softly, you felt like she was closer than ever but maybe because you just wanted her to be, “you know, id love to do this again.. and maybe play you something on my guitar.. if you want.” she said almost nervously, feeling the urge to look away from you.

“i would love that els.” you said, looking up from staring at your hands together to smiling in her face. you cant believe she asked you, part of you prayed she would, you knew there was a connection here. she realized it too. your eye contact never faded as you stood here.

“great, im looking forward to it more than you know,” she told you sweetly. she let go out hand and you felt slight disappoint in your heart as you assumed she was going to turn around and open the door and this moment would be over. instead, she brought her hand up to your face and let it rest on your cheek as she brushed her thumb over it. the touch of her warm hand sent sparks through your body this time and you couldn’t be bothered moving as she grew closer to you.

“you have no idea how much i wanna kiss you right now.” she whispered, from only what felt like two inches away from your lips. fuck, you thought silently. she was so close to you, you could feel her breathe as she spoke.

“please do it.” you practically whined, you couldn’t take this anymore. all you wanted to do was feel her lips on yours. after you spoke, you felt her thumb move from your cheek to brushing your lips softly. the drinks you had definitely brought out your confident and the want you had for her.

“oh sweetheart,” she purred towards you, “how badly i want to but it has to be more special than this.” she said moving her thumb back to your red cheek.

“just as long as it happens el,” you responded, breathing heavier as your nerves grew in anticipation.

she nodded as she slowly moved her hand off your face and brought it down to your hip and gave it a squeeze, still smiling at you as she reached to open the door and let you through in front of her.

you walk back into the gym and went to find jesse and dina. you saw jesse at the bar and ellie went over to him, telling you she was getting more drinks. you went over to dina at the table and took a seat next to her. you asked her how the match went and she told you same as always and nothing crazy this time.

“you guys were out there for a while, whats up with that?” dina asked while smirking and wiggling her eyebrows at you.

“dina…” you laughed, “we just smoked and talked for a bit.” you replied to her.

“sureeee that’s all, we see the way you look at her!”, she squealed, “and the way she looks at you, it just seems pretty obvious.”

you laughed and told her that nothing happened yet but you did admit to her that you wanted it to.

“stop we knew it!” she laughed loudly and hit the table in excitement. you pulled your hands to your face that was full of embarrassment.

“what do you mean you knew it, was it obvious?” you gasped. your eyes darting towards ellie at the makeshift bar.

“to me and jesse yes.” she told you still smiling over the fact that her two friends maybe starting something new soon.

as you went to reply, the drinks were on the table, jesse and ellie were back already at the table pulling their chairs. the conversation between you and dina came to a halt as you all started talking. you all sat, conversing and finished your last round by the time it hit around 11 pm. you were getting tired and you were definitely drunk after all the rounds of drinks everyone bought. the matches ended an hour ago and you guys were the last few people left besides the lady behind the bar and a couple stragglers paying their tab and chatting.

“hey i think me and d are gonna head out,” he said looking over to dina, who was definitely feeling all the drinks she had, he laughed and said, “this one needs to make it home into bed. can you make it home okay? i can take you now if you need” he asked talking to you.

“no i’m gonna take her home.” ellie cut in before you could respond. you looked at her and smiled as jesse told you to text when you both got home safe. he helped dina up and they made their way to the door. your eyes followed til they left and then you turned to ellie, who was already staring at you.

“that okay sweetheart? that i take you home again?” she asked smirking towards you.

“yeah els, that’s okay.” you blushed as she stood up and put her hand out for the third time tonight. you connected your hands again. touching her had your skin was burning up. you followed her into a back office. paperwork, receipts, and random things littered the room. as you looked around and saw a decent couch, a safe in the corner and a coffee area on a little table and a large desk with folders and boxes of things you didn’t know.

you watched as ellie disconnected your hands to go over to pick up her backpack from the side of the couch and then she grabbed a jacket she had hanging over the deck of the chair to the desk, she slid it over her shoulders then grabbed a piece of paper, writing something non legible from where you were standing. she smiled when she turned towards you and held her arm out motioning to the door for you guys to exit.

the stragglers were gone and the bartender bid ellie goodnight as she walked out the front door. you walked the distance of the gym and made it to the door with ellie, she leaned over and turned the lights off and then held the door opened for you.

you told her thank you and she nodded towards you, “i think we should walk, it’s not far from your apartment.” she spoke looking towards you for confirmation as she turned and locked up the gym for the night.

“that’s okay but how are you going to get home without your car?” you asked. you didn’t want her walking home alone either, you knew she could handle herself but still, the thought made you worry.

“i’m only 5 minutes away from you actually so its not far, ill be back for my car tomorrow.” she told you. you nodded and both of you continued to walk the sidewalk in a comfortable silence next to each other. you glanced up at the sky, noticing the stars and the way the moon beamed over the city. it was so much cooler now than it was earlier and you moved to brush over the goosebumps that covered your arms. ellie noticed your movement and took off her jacket. you turned when you noticed what she was going and told her, “no its okay we’ll be there soon i don’t need it.”

“sorry sweetheart, got to make sure you stay warm.” she smirked as she put it over your shoulders and watched as you put your arms in. you smiled to her as you readjusted it and continued the walk to your place. the smell of her engulfed you and you’ve never felt so comfortable.

“its so beautiful.” you whispered, “and quiet, new york was never like this. they don’t lie when they say the city never sleeps ya know?” you finished.

the city you moved to that you wish you could escape from. the shitty and abusive relationship you wish you could leave behind. the things you tried the most to forget. you never spoke about it, you just ran. the city you wished had better memories connected with it. but now all you want is to create new memories.

when you moved across the country, you told yourself that you’re not getting into anything here because you know you need to heal from the those years of abuse and insecurity so the last thing you expected was to meet ellie and end up feeling this way about her. you don’t want this to happen and you ruin it because you aren’t okay but with her, you feel like you could be okay one day.

“i could only imagine, boston was a busy place too but not the same, it always is quiet here.” she chuckled softly.

“i love it, things finally seem calm now.” you smiled as you looked her. she took in the sight of you in her jacket and she loved it. she can only imagine seeing you wear her t shirts… or nothing at all. she shook the thoughts from her head but she just couldn’t help it. you were the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen. you were breathtaking. she couldn’t believe she’d met someone like you in this shitty small town.

the town where her dad and her moved, and the memories of them together haunted her. now that he was gone, she knew a piece of her was missing. things were incomplete without him. he was all she thought about, the guilt of what happened and how she couldn’t do anything to stop it.

the only time ellie wasn’t thinking about joel was when she was thinking about you, she was grateful that she met you. she didn’t know what this was going to turn into but she hoped it would be something. she sees the effects she has on you and she wishes she really knew how to communicate with you that she feels the same way about you.

you continued the walk in a comfortable silence, both of you wrapped in your thoughts of each another and eventually made it to the front of your building. you turned to face her with a smile,“here i am,” you spoke softly to her, not wanting the night to come to an end.

“here you are, thank you for letting me take you home sweetheart, call it peace of mind,” she admitted.

“thank you for walking me els… do you want to come up?” you said without a thought. you didn’t know if this is was the alcohol talking but you know you didn’t regret it when you said it and you wish that’s what you could blame it on but you knew you wanted this even sober.

“if you want me to sweetheart” she smirked as she responded.

you stepped closer to her as you looked at her, only a couple inches away from her face, watching her eyes move from your eyes to your lips. you knew you both could feel the tension.

“please just say yes.” you sighed wishing you could feel her lips on yours already.

“okay sweetheart, lets go.” she pulled away but connected your hands and it took you a second to recognize that she agreed. you turned around, suddenly nervous about the fact that she’s going to see where you spend your days. you opened the door to the lobby, and ellie held the door as you both walked in. she followed you up the stairs by the front, and you made your way to the front door as you held ellie’s hand in one and used the other to pull your keys from your bag.

you unlocked the door and you brought ellie in with you before the door was shut and you were locking it. you took off her jacket and put it on your coat rack and turned to look at her.

“okay it’s kind of a mess so i’m sorry but-“ you started before she cut you off.

“sweetheart, your place is practically spotless, you should see mine.” ellie laughed.

you laughed as you pulled ellie over to the green couch that took up a lot of your living room but it was a dream purchase and you loved it. you told ellie to take a seat as you walked over to the kitchen and grabbed some water for you both. as you were walking back towards her, she was digging around in her backpack. as you placed the waters down and took a seat, she pulled out weed in a jar and handed it to you.

“here this is yours.” she said.

“oh thank you! i totally forgot, do you want to smoke now- fuck i don’t think i have anything to roll with.” you told her as you went to open the windows in your living room.

instead of saying anything, she reached back into her backpack and pulled out a jar of already rolled joints.

“i came prepared.” she laughed, “and you won’t owe me anything for that.” she said, motioning to the stuff she gave you as her hands were cracking open the jar of pre-rolls.

“ellie- no i’ll give you the cash,” but she shook her head no and brought the lighter to the joint between her lips.

“no, it’s on me, don’t worry about it.” she responded as she took a hit.

“do you give other people weed for free?” you asked, looking at her as she was smoking while sitting next to you on the couch. you wish you could stay like this forever.

“only pretty girls that i like…” she said sweetly as you held eye contact as she handed you the joint.

“oh so you think i’m pretty?” you teased her as you took a hit.

“sweetheart, i think you’re the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen.” she told you. you instantly blush and look away from her, trying not to choke on the smoke you held in your lungs.

“thank you els, i think you’re beautiful.” you said to her. when you looked up, you saw her cheeks tint lightly as she grabbed the joint you held out to her.

“thanks sweetheart.” she said as she put the joint down on a cup at the table you’d been using as an ashtray and she brought her hand up and held your cheek like she did earlier. you couldn’t help yourself as you nuzzled your face into her warm hand. your eye contact only made the tension in the room worse.

“you really are beautiful… sweetheart, can i?” she asked as she looked down at your lips. you nodded and as she came closer, your lips just barely brushing, as she asked, “i need to hear you pretty girl.”

“yes please els- please just kiss me already.” you begged.

her lips were on yours before you could even realized this was actually happening. your lips moved slow together at first but you couldn’t help yourself from deepening the kiss as ellie brought her other hand up and tangled it in your hair as you moaned, her tongue slipped into your mouth, both of you tasting the weed and alcohol you consumed.

one of your hand rested against her chest and the other gripping her arm as you melted into the kiss. both ellie’s hands were in your hair now as your tongues continued to fight for dominance but you let her win and moaned again and she swallowed it as she kissed you.

ellie pulled your leg over her lap so you straddled her, never breaking your lips apart. your lips continued to move in sync as you grinded against her. her hands on your hips moving with you. your lips stay connected until you broke the kiss to come up for air and rested your forehead on hers.

“you okay sweetheart?” ellie panted as she caught her breath too.

“yes els just need a second.” you said as your eyes stayed shut while you tried to control your breathing. you couldn’t believe that you guys finally kissed. the tension was killing you both and now it’s finally happened.

“hey it’s okay, take your time sweetheart.” ellie said as she rubbed a hand along your thigh at a comfortable pace, brushing the cloth from your shorts as she moved it. she brought the other one up to your cheek and lifted your head to look at you. you looked tired and ellie didn’t want to take full advantage of you after you guys had been drinking and smoking all night.

“hey sweetheart, lets get you to bed, we’ll finish this another time i promise.” she said sweetly as you mumbled an “okay els thank you,” and moved off her lap to sit back on the couch. ellie stood up and offered her hand. you stood up and walked both of you to your bedroom.

you moved to sit on the edge of your king sized bed and ellie stood in front of you still holding your hand as you asked her if she wanted to stay the night because it was late and you didn’t want her walking home.

“sure sweetheart i’ll sleep on the couch, and only for your peace of mind.” she chuckled, thinking back to the conversation earlier.

“els we can share the bed, it’s okay, i’ll keep my hands to myself.” you joked and she laughed.

“i don’t think i’d be complaining if you couldn’t but i’m okay on the couch.” ellie insisted.

“els please just lay with me.” you said looking up at her as she moved her hand to rest on your cheek again.

“okay sweetheart.” she finally agreed.

you smiled up at her and you took ellie’s hand from your face and guided her into the bathroom connected to your room. she watched as you bent down and opened the sink cabinet and grabbed a toothbrush. you turned around and handed it to her with a smile. you guys brushed your teeth and then went back into your bedroom.

ellie stood here as you moved across the room to your dresser, and pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of shorts from your drawer and handed them over to ellie. she told you thank you and you smiled at her. ellie walked into the bathroom to change and you walked back to the dresser. you stripped yourself of your shirt and bra before throwing on a different oversized tee and changing your underwear. you didn’t even realize you were soaked after what happened on the couch.

ellie watched you as she leaned against the bathroom door frame as you untangled the sides of your underwear after you pulled them up.

“you’re perfect”, she thought in head before speaking out loud. “thanks sweetheart.” you turned around when ellie spoke, sending her a smile before you moved to your side of the bed, you grabbed the duvet and moved it so you both were able to get in your bed.

you and ellie laid facing each other in a comfortable silence as you were both growing incredibly tired. you felt your eyes starting to get heavy and felt ellie’s hand brush your hair back from your face so you kept your eyes open to look at her.

“el?” you whispered.

“yes sweetheart?” she spoke quietly back to you.

“i really like you… i don’t know if this is too early but it just feels right.”

“i feel it too sweetheart, i like you too so don’t worry,” ellie said softly, hand still holding your face, “now get some sleep, we’ll talk more in the morning pretty girl.”

“goodnight els.” you whispered.

448 notes · View notes

ilovenatasharomanoff2-0 · 5 months

Note

Hey, can I request an intersex Nat where she accidentally got R pregnant? And then she decided to hide the baby from Nat because she didn't want to burden Natasha or something (idk, you can change the reason), and then 5 years later, Nat was shocked to find R with a child. She did a computation and some research to know that it was her child too! Fluffy ending, please? Sorry for rambling, I just love single mother AUs rn and idk why?? Thank youuu!!

It's never over.

Warnings: y/s/n (your son's name), unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise kink

Pairings: Intersex Natasha x fem reader

Word count: 2.5k

A/n: It has actually been a hot minute since I posted. I'm sorry, but I'm ready for this writing grind to return. This fic is my apology. I'm getting to it if I didn't get to your request. Trust me, I've seen it and probably already started writing it.

"Fuck baby, I don't have a condom," Natasha tells you while hurriedly taking off her shirt.

You moaned quietly and muttered, "It's fine." Your hands go to Natasha's sweatpants to pull them down. "Just pull out, okay?"

Natasha lets out a low groan in reply to you, and her hands promptly find their way to your bra. In one swift mention, your bra was unclasped and thrown somewhere in the dimly lit bedroom.

Her hand soon came up to your face, tracing your face. Her eyes were glued on you, on how beautiful you were. Her face comes intact with your neck, kissing you slowly. Her lips dragged down and down. Soon, meeting your pelvis. Her head slowly moved back up to look at you. "So pretty baby, love you so much," she muttered. Her fingers traced down your body 'till they got to your clothed cunt. Her middle and index finger glided over your clit, and a soft whine erupted from your mouth.

"Please, Tasha, need you."

"Yeah, baby? I got you, okay?" She murmured out to you. A small kiss was left on your forehead. Natasha's two fingers pulled your panties to the side. Her attention was now on your pussy.

"So wet for me." Her lips curled upwards, forming a proud smirk. She didn't even do anything to you, and she had you dripping.

Her fingers dipped themselves in your hole, and a small gasp left your mouth. You threw your head against the pillow that lay beneath your head.

"Look at me, y/n, how good I'm making you feel." She mutters out to you, immediately drawing her fingers away from your cunt.

"Need your fingers, please." You moan out to her, your head shooting back up to see her in front of you, her two fingers up to her mouth to taste you.

"Taste so fucking good." she sighs out to you. "Need my fingers, baby? How bad do you need them?"

"Really bad, Natasha." Your hips start to buck forward, trying to relieve that ache you had in your core.

Natasha's hand comes to your hips, pushing them back down into the bed. You know you can't do anything about it. She's so much more potent than you. A force of one hand has your hips pinned down.

"Sorr-" Your plead is cut short when you feel her fingers entirely make their way into you. A languid yelp leaves your mouth. Your head shoots back once more.

"Feels good, huh? Bet my cock will feel better, though."

You can't respond back to her, too focused on her fingers that are curling in you. Her fingers pump faster, lewd sounds of your wetness caving the room, echoing every now and then.

Natahsa's free hand moves up to your clit, circling the bud just like she did before.

"So good, Nat, don't stop p-please."

"'M not gonna stop, baby."

As you lay, you feel the muscles in your legs tense up, and your feet shift slightly as your legs come together, creating a subtle but noticeable closure.

"You close y/n?" She whispers in your ear, her body leaning onto you ever so slightly, but enough to feel her hard-on press onto you.

Your voice quivers as you let out a mournful "Mhm." You reach out and grasp her shoulder, fingers digging into her skin. The pressure of your grip is tight, as if you're trying to hold on to something slipping away.

As you near your high, Natasha pulls her fingers out of you. A high-pitched sob leaves your mouth. "N-no, Natasha."

"Shh, it's okay, my love. I gonna make you feel so much better." She mumbles out to you. Her body moves off of you and onto her knees. The tent in her boxers is more noticeable than it was before. Your gaze is fixated on the intricate network of veins coursing down her pelvis, descending further and further out of sight.

She let out a low groan as she moved her boxers down, sliding them off and tossing them somewhere in the room. Her cock sprung out of the piece of clothing, precum leaked from her tip.

"So fucking hard for you, baby, I just want to feel your pussy so bad."

A shattered breath left your mouth as you heard Natahsa's explicit words. Her hand slowly moved up and down on her cock, lowering her head down to use her spit as lube.

She slowly inched her hips closer to you, grabbing ahold of her hard cock. Her tip rubbed in between your folds, teasing for a few more minutes.

"Already feel so good." She sputters, her tip finally coming down to your hole. She takes her time easing into you, her eyes looking at how your pussy takes in all of her cock.

Once Natasha had bottomed out in you, she stilled her hips, giving you time to adjust to her length. "Tell me when I can move, baby, okay?" She softly tells you.

After a few minutes of waiting, you finally adjusted to her.

"O-okay, I'm ready, Nat."

Natasha needs to hear no more, her hips thrusting rhythmically.

"Th-that feels good, Tasha." Your breathing is labored. You can feel the deliberate slowness and shallowness of Natasha's thrusts, as though she is deliberately holding back from unleashing her full power upon you. It's as though she is carefully testing your limits, teasing you with the promise of what could come if she let go.

"Can I do this?" She asks, her eyes filled with anticipation. Her back straightens, and her hands move ever so sneakily, reaching out to grab your thighs.

The silence in the room was palpable, broken only by the sound of a small head slowly nodding.

Her hands pushed your thighs back for a better angle. Her thrusting resumes and her cock hits new depths. Loud moans left your mouth as Natasha's hips grew in speed, her cock aimlessly hitting the spot that you love.

The way you clenched around her had her in a trance. The grip she had on your thighs tightened. A grunt came out of her mouth, and she snapped her hips faster into you. Your hands were trying to search for a place for stability.

"So fucking tight and warm, y/n. C-could be in you forever." She moans out to you.

"Fuck, I'm close, nat." a whine left your mouth as you closed your eyes and focused on all of the pleasure.

"Let me cum inside y/n, please."

You quickly nodded, trying to hide the knot that was forming in your stomach. The overwhelming feeling of unease made it hard to process anything else.

"Gonna cum!"

"Comon, do it, my love, cum for me." She reassures you. You can tell she's close to releasing by how her hips start to, for their own pace, a rhythm. With a few more strong thrusts from Natasha's hips, your orgasm came crashing down. Your back arched off of the bed as you felt Natasha shoot her load into you.

She lays down on top of you and catches her breath. She quickly rolls off of you and moves herself next to you on the suitable bed. Her side is slightly turned so she can look at your face.

"Did so good for me y/n." You feel her soft breath on your face as she leans in and gently presses her lips to your forehead, letting out a soft murmur.

You couldn't help but smile as you turned to face Natasha. She slowly lifted herself off you, her eyes fixed on yours as if trying to decipher your thoughts.

After standing up, she gracefully slips back into her boxers, her every move exuding confidence and poise. She walks into your bathroom with purpose, her eyes scanning the room until she spots a towel, which she swiftly grabs and wets under the tap. She returns to you, her gaze unwavering, and gently cleans you up with the damp towel, her soothing and reassuring touch.

As you lay on your bed, you hear a soft call of "Y/nnn." Turning your head, you see her standing there, a smile forming as she catches your gaze. Closing your eyes, you feel her hands gently cleaning you up, making you feel refreshed and cared for. Soon after, she hops onto the bed and wraps her arms around you from behind, holding you close in a warm embrace. It's a moment of comfort and intimacy that makes you feel safe and loved.

As you were lost in thought, you were suddenly jolted back to reality by boisterous laughter. You quickly checked your phone to see a message, only to find your son standing before you with a half-eaten Rice Krispie treat in his hand.

"Hey, buddy!" You bellowed out to him. His face lit up as he heard you talking to him.

He looks up at you with a beaming smile and says, "Hi, mama!" His little hands reach up toward you despite your close proximity, signaling his desire to be held in your embrace.

You bend down slightly to pick him up, even more laughter erupting from his tiny body. You quickly pick up the phone you put on the counter to take a picture of y/s/n. Your eyes get lost in the notification on your screen. You quickly forget about it and take a picture of the both of you in your matching Patagonia jackets, hoping you could post it to your Instagram later.

As you set him down on the ground, you turn to him and ask, "Would you like to go get some ice cream?" With a quick nod, he excitedly runs towards the door, nearly stumbling over the scattered toys that litter the floor. You can't help but chuckle at the sight as you make your way over to the accent table where your car keys are displayed.

As you two drove, the car was filled with the loud beats of y/s/n's favorite YouTube music, his laughter growing increasingly raucous as he found something particularly amusing. After a few minutes, we arrived at the ice cream shop, but getting y/s/n out of his seatbelt proved difficult due to all the kicking and squirming.

As you both stepped out of the car, you noticed the small ice cream shop across the street. You helped him out of the car and walked towards the shop. As you entered the tiny shop, the aroma of freshly made waffle cones filled your nostrils. The colorful display of ice cream flavors made your little companion's eyes widen with excitement. He carefully picked out his favorite flavor and waited patiently for you to pay. As you handed over the money, his tiny head looked up at you with gratitude and back at his ice cream, watching it drip from the cone onto his hand. The sound of his happy slurping filled the air as you both savored the moment.

Walking around the ice cream, you turn to your son and say, "Come on, let's find a table." You take his hand and navigate the large crowd, scanning for an available booth. Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening catches your attention. You freeze when you see the girl who just walked in. She looks familiar, like someone you used to know. She stands tall with a confident posture and a mess of long red hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. A few strands fall across her face, framing her sharp features. Dressed in a sleek compression shirt and shorts, she just came from the gym.

As you both stand in the ice cream shop, your eyes meet with a woman scanning the room. Suddenly, her gaze locks onto yours, and you feel a jolt of electricity pass between you. Her eyes slowly drift down to the child standing next to you, and she can't help but notice the resemblance between them. You're unsure what to do, but you feel frozen in place as you stare at each other. When your child tugs at your pants, reminding you that his ice cream is melting, you snap out of your trance and slowly start to move away.

"Mommy, ice cream!" he says loud enough for the girl you know to hear you.

"O-okay, y/s/n, follow me." You quickly find a table. As soon as you sit down, your son is on his tablet, watching PBS Kids to entertain him. And that's when you finally remember it was Natasha. She has changed a lot since you saw her 4 years ago.

Before you can get together to talk to her, she's already at your table. Your son quickly looks up at her and looks back down; his attention is on the ice cream and TV show.

"Y/n?" She whispered out to you. Her voice sounded the same, just as you remembered.

"Hi Natasha, I know that thi-"

"You have a kid now?" Her voice is a little shaky now; if you have to be honest, you feel bad for her. And now that you're face to face with her you start to regret your actions.

You stayed silent for a minute trying to find the right response to tell Natasha.

"Why didn't you tell me y/n? I've waited so long for you."

"I...I don't know Natasha." Our hands touch your face, rubbing it harshly, trying to process what was happening.

"Is he mine, Y/n?" You could tell her nervousness, her breath quickening as she awaited your response. The only thing you could do was nod your head up and down.

"have a seat, Nat." She hesitates momentarily before slowly taking a seat, her mind racing with mixed emotions. The air around you is tense as you wait for her to speak.

"You know I wanted to tell you."

"Why didn't you then? I was never able to get over you, y/n."

"I guess I...I guess I was too scared, Natasha. I didn't want you to ghost me, and I felt like a burden like you wouldn't want to be with me anymore." You looked down at the table, trying to hide your watering eyes from Natasha.

You feel her body shifting gently as she moves closer to you. Her arm gracefully wraps itself around your back and pulls you in closer. You respond to her embrace, feeling your entire body pressing against hers with a sense of comfort and warmth.

"I don't think you are a burden. I would've been so happy if you told me we would have a kid together. You know that I will always love you."

You do a slow nod into her chest. Natasha's face turns every once in a while, looking at the toddler across from her.

"What's his name?"

"Y/s/n. It made me think of you when I first gave birth to him."

Natasha's delicate fingers gently touch your chin, lifting your face towards hers. As you meet her gaze, a radiant smile spreads across her lips, illuminating her face with a warm glow.

"Do you wanna come back home with me, Nat?" you whisper just loud enough for her to hear.

"Yeah, actually. I want to catch up with you and my son."

You find yourself unable to do anything but return the smile of the person in front of you. As you gaze into her eyes, a flood of memories from your past together comes rushing back. You feel a sense of excitement and anticipation for the new chapter that is about to unfold in your life.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x female #natasha x y/n #natasha romanov #marvel #natasha x reader #marvel smut

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notjustjavierpena · 5 months

Text

Heat

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: Many many moons ago (this might be an exaggeration), I wrote a direct message to @undercoverpena about one of her text posts that sent me into a horny spiral. I loved it. You can read the text post here. At lot happened since then, and I bet you all that she must have forgotten or thought I would not finish it, but alas I return from the dead.

Summary: Javier looks so delicious doing hard work under the sun. The kids aren’t home. Heat is not just what the sun gives, it can also be a state of your body.

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, clit stim, piv sex, dirty talk, breeding kink, creampie, rough sex, javi p is sweaty and you are horny

Word count: 3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51636391

Heat

It’s a thousand degrees outside.

It’s the beginning of autumn and it’s boiling hot, so warm that one cannot fully enjoy the weather when it makes everything feel crispier. You’ll be damned if you are going to spend the sparse and sacred hours of being childfree inside your house with a pout though, because your father-in-law has the kids after a long period of him being unable to babysit.

One would think that now that your three children are in Abuelo Chucho’s hands, it would mean having a long-awaited, as well as well-deserved, date night with your husband, but Javier has decided to spend the day renovating the back porch in the heat. You haven’t rolled your eyes at him yet, but the urge has been there several times.

You sit on the porch swing, dangling your feet just above the wooden boards that are soon to be removed and replaced. There’s a glass of cold lemonade in your hand, a bee buzzing somewhere nearby.

Javier is in the shed at the back of the garden. You can hear him move things around, occasionally letting out a swear word moments after something clatters to the floor with a loud bang.

You sip your lemonade through its straw. The honey bee has found the bush of lavender, and you let your eyes close to listen to the sounds of late summer, the start of fall. The sun dances on your lids, sweat forms at the small of your back just above your shorts and right below your cropped t-shirt.

After a few minutes where you’ve leaned back into the backrest of the porch swing, and nearly fallen asleep, you hear Javier returning. Automatically, your eyes open at hearing him speak.

“Hey, enjoying yourself?” He has come over to peck your lips. You allow it, holding up the glass of lemonade afterward to watch his lips close around the straw. He takes a long sip whilst his eyes are fixed on yours.

“Gotta stay hydrated if you want to work in this heat,” you note.

“Just gonna be all pretty sitting there and watching me?” He asks after swallowing, and you have to force yourself to look away from the way his Adam's Apple bobs.

“Mh-hm,” you nod without saying much, knowing you’ll break if you try to get an actual sentence out.

“Alright,” he just replies, and you swear you catch some sort of undertone in his voice. He kisses you again, lingering a second too long for you to be indifferent towards it, and then stretches again. A less collected version of you wants to undo his belt right there, but you let him go instead. Not without regret though.

And then he starts working, dragging planks across the soon-naked porch deck, and you start sweating even more at the sight. Even moreso at the grunts he elicits during his labor.

Javier is beautiful underneath the burning sun, sweat-slicked chest hair peeking out from under his grayish shirt that he has unbuttoned at the top. He rolls his sleeves up to his elbows because they cannot go up any further than that, tightening around the beginnings of his biceps and causing your head to swim when you think about those arms around you.

You allow yourself to ogle him as he is lost in the task. The straw in your lemonade sits in your mouth, your tongue curling around it briefly before you sip to clench your thirst. There’s sweat collecting on Javier’s brow, threatening to drip down, and when it finally does slide down the side of his head, your eyes burn from refraining from blinking as you watch the beads roll down his neck and into the clavicle of it. You press your thighs together.

The gray shirt has darkened in color around his shoulders due to dampness. Whenever Javier turns his back to you, you can see the darker patch has reached his lower back too. Your tongue darts out to lick at nothing around your mouth, and you know that your husband would laugh at you if he saw it.

There’s something dirty about watching the way he brushes slick hair from his forehead. He has knelt down on the deck by now, occasionally on all fours when he reaches for something in front of himself, and when he gets really concentrated, straining his back muscles so much that the shirt starts fighting for its life, he pulls a face that nearly makes you fall off the porch swing.

You bite your lip, choose your words but none seems to do the job so you settle for something more simple, “Javi.”

“Sí, mi amor?” Javier doesn’t look up.

You remind yourself that he has talked about redoing the porch since his father agreed to take the kids. You won’t spoil it for him, and you know that a half-finished project with three kids is not an ideal situation for you, so you compose yourself.

“I think I need to get out of the sun for a bit, can I get you some water?” You ask instead of getting on your knees to beg - or more - and then you walk past him.

“Sure,” he replies as you pass him, and it makes you unable to see the smirk on his face, “Water would be great. Thanks, honey.”

Inside the kitchen, you fill a glass with cold water from the refrigerator. You even get a few ice cubes from the tray in your freezer but instead of dumping them into your husband’s drink, you hold them against your chest with a sigh of relief. Something burns in the pit of your stomach, even more when you return to the porch and hand Javier the glass of water. He hasn’t gotten less enticing; shirt clinging to him, hair sticking to his forehead, a groan as he gets up from the floor.

“Should be done by tomorrow,” he says as he takes the glass from your hand, causing a bolt of electricity to shoot down your spine as your fingers brush. It’s ridiculous since both of you know that he is yours already.

“Mm-hm,” you watch him gulp down nearly all of his drink.

And then he does something that you might never recover from; he pours the remaining water over himself in an attempt to cool down. It wets his hair even more, and he runs his thick fingers through it to shake out the excess droplets.

Time stands still. Your heart hammers in your chest, pulse traveling through your veins until you can feel the throbbing of each heartbeat between your legs. You press your thighs together and let out a whimper of breath.

“Baby?” You say softly to earn a hm? It feels shameful to meet Javier’s eyes. However when you do, you notice his pupils have dilated in desire, gaze flickering down your body for the shortest time, and you choose to strike.

You step into Javier’s personal space, hand reaching up to lie on his chest. The soft pads of your fingers rest on his skin where his buttons are undone, and you try to keep a doe-eyed look on your face as you rub his exposed skin gently.

“I was thinking,” you start, trail off.

“Yes?” He drags the word out. You can hear the smirk on his face but it feels too vulnerable to look him in the eye.

“Since we’re alone,” you continue, gaze fixated on the chest hair that is exposed in the heat, “And since there’s air conditioning inside, we could do something together.”

“Do what?” He says like someone who has figured you out. His strong hand comes up to wrap around your wrist, lifting your palm to his mouth. He kisses it.

Your face burns with embarrassment at the fact that you can barely contain yourself in his presence. That and the fact that it is usually so easy, so why does it feel so difficult to ask for what you want?

“You know what.”

“I need you to say it, need you to ask for it, mi vida,” he teases and places your hand on the side of his face. He releases a breath at your touch, eyes fluttering closed so you feel brave enough to look up at his face. He leans further into you and looks as ready as you to give in.

“I need you to touch me,” your voice trembles. Javier just barely shudders at hearing your words, opening his eyes once more to reveal their darkened color.

“Touch you where?” Javier continues his little game. He mirrors you, touches your face too, “Here?”

“No.”

His hand moves down to brush your neck, “Here then? It must be here.”

“No,” you shake your head, “Please, Javi.”

Javier’s hand slides down your front and settles on the exposed skin of your belly. It causes you to hold your breath. Then it goes down, slips past the elastic band of your shorts and into your damp underwear. You gasp as two of his fingers slide through the wetness between your legs, tips finding your pulsing clit immediately after. Thank God you have hedges around the back garden and thank God that they’re tall enough to keep prying eyes away from the scene that unfolds.

“What about here? I hope it’s here because I don’t want to stop,” he rubs you off slowly until your legs start to shake underneath you. He works his fingers back and forth, from side to side, one on either side of your clit and something builds and builds and—

You come with a little cry and bury your face in Javier’s chest. Your hand on the side of his face falls down to his shoulder which you grip as you soak your underwear even more, thighs trapping his hand as they clamp together. As your head spins, Javier chuckles out a swear word above you.

“Never gets old,” he adds and you start giggling.

After a few seconds of letting you breathe, Javier cups your face and lifts your lips to his own in a kiss that tells you everything you need to know, where you’re heading, which direction. You kiss him back slowly and he licks the inside of your mouth, guides you toward the screen door that leads inside of the house. He has you, you want to say, body and soul.

“Let me take my beautiful wife to bed,” he begs and you nod repeatedly, mumbling a soft plea. He peppers you with sweet kisses that turn more heated as you get closer to the bedroom door. He toes off his shoes on the way, leaving them forgotten in the hallway along with pieces of clothing that he sheds you and himself of.

When you’re both naked, sticking together from the sweat that is already shining on your skin, he hoists you up and carries you to the bed effortlessly. You cling to him by wrapping your limbs around his body, and he kneels down on the bed and places you on your back - and then he doesn’t leave but instead melts into you.

“Te deseo mucho, mi amor,” he murmurs and crushes you so heavenly with his weight, connecting his lips to your throat and sucking a purple mark onto your skin. You’ll scold him for it later but right now, you simply whine. His voice vibrates against your neck, “You really thought all I was gonna do was redo the stupid porch? Not do you?”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you bite back with no real hostility, first snorting at his choice of words and then letting out a sigh as he continues tasting your salty skin, “I was ready to go insane, so please fuck me.”

“Dramatic as ever,” he teases and then holds himself up with one arm so he can reach down between your bodies. You bend your legs and let your knees fall out to the sides, breath hitching until it becomes a whimper when the head of Javier’s cock slides through your folds.

“Please,” you say, and have never been so willing. His cockhead catches on your clit, and your moan comes out a lot louder than intended. You are just about to cover your mouth with your hand when you realize you don’t have to; you can cry and whine and scream all you want to. It makes you yearn for him in a newfound sense and makes you want to scream already.

“Paciencia, mi amor,” he tuts but still reads your mind. He enters you a moment later, pushing inside easily from the slick that’s already smearing your inner thighs. He groans as you take him, eyes intensely focused on yours whilst stretching your pussy open in a delicious sting. Your hands find his broad shoulders instead of their usual place clamped down on your mouth. You let yourself be noisy as you adjust.

“That’s it,” he slurs, “Be noisy all you want. Good girl.”

When he pulls out and eases back in, the two of you moan in unison. He does it again but follows it up with a breathless laugh when your noises already climb in pitch.

“I know, baby, I know,” he says soothingly as if you’ve hurt yourself.

But then he shows no mercy and speeds up. His rhythm becomes something else entirely; hard and fast, sending the eyes in your head rolling backward into your skull with a f-fuck dripping from your lips.

Everything is so different. Usually, you breathe so deeply into each other’s bodies, connecting your lips whenever the other is about to give away what the two of you are doing to the rest of the house. Your noses will bump against each other as you are impossibly close to one another, an occasional h-ah escaping your mouth or a low grunt from Javier’s, and if not even a kiss can cover up the noises, Javier’s strong hand or your own will cover your mouth as you cry through the most intense orgasms a man has ever given you.

But now. Oh God. Javier is making you sing until the house is shaking, every noise bouncing off the walls to ricochet right back to your ears. You can hear yourself sound obscene as he makes you come a second time, wanton moans falling from your slack mouth. You tremble, thighs jiggling along his sides as he drives his cock into you to prolong your pleasure.

“There you are, Christ, you are perfect,” he praises, continues to pound your oversensitive cunt, “Let it all out, baby.”

“More,” you beg, “Don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he grunts.

You reach down between your legs as best as you can, already thinking of a third orgasm now that your clit is untouched. If not only to shout yourself hoarse.

Javier traps you between his arms, propping himself up on his forearms and sliding his fingers into your hair. He tugs slightly as he rolls his hips, pain erupting from your sensitive follicles and adding to your third high that is building.

You circle your clit fast, barely able to contain yourself as your cunt goes off into delicious spasm. You think you might actually start crying with how intense it feels, Javier’s cock twitching inside of you whilst he moans too. He buries his face in your shoulder.

“Don’t pull out,” you gasp up at the ceiling, nails creating little crescent marks on the muscles of his broad shoulder, “Javi, oh fuck, come in me. Don’t pull out. Pleasepleaseplease.”

The comment makes Javier pull back a little, raising himself on his elbow to look down at you. His fingers are still in your hair, an occasional moan tumbles out of his mouth as he continues reaching deep inside of you, and his eyes bore into yours. He furrows his brow from being so close, barely able to speak from how ragged his breathing is.

“What—?” He grunts. Any moment now.

“Not ovulating,” you moan back at him, tightening your legs around his waist to punctuate your want, your need. You try meeting his every thrust to encourage his own high, “Please, baby. Need you to come in me.”

“Mierda, estas una chica sucia,” his hips stutter, “You love getting filled to the brim, don’t you?”

You nod frantically.

“Just want me to keep knocking your sweet cunt up, huh?” He moans.

“Yes. Whole fucking football team.”

“C’mere,” he catches your mouth in a heated kiss, nodding slightly, but it turns messy as soon as he gets to orgasm. He whimpers into your mouth when he is just on the brink, and then he gasps as the first rope of come starts to fill you. You let out a big sigh against his mouth for show, taking everything he has to give you whilst he shudders in your arms.

It takes a moment to calm down. Your arms rest beside your head and your eyes close, trying to calm your heavy breathing. Above you, Javier hisses when he pulls out of you and you can immediately feel his come dripping out of you.

Javier kisses your exposed chest. He slides his hands up your forearms to eventually hold each of your hands, flopping down onto you again.

“Ice water,” you say after a while of laying together like this.

“Hm?” He squeezes your hands.

“Go get some ice water, your wife is boiling.”

“Fine,” he groans.

When he comes back, he has also brought a towel and you spend the rest of the afternoon trailing ice cubes across your warm skin after cleaning yourself up. It’ll be easier to work in the colder evening sun anyway.

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#pedro pascal characters #javi pena #javier pena one shot #javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena imagine #javier pena fic #javier pena narcos #javi peña #javier peña #javier pena x you #my writing #husband!javi #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction

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lostdreamr-blog1 · 6 months

Text

Beautiful Stranger

Summary: Jake was talked into picking up the coffee order for the group, but little did he know he would be leaving with more than that.

Word count: 2k

A/N: Wow friends…it has been a hot minute since I have posted. Life got crazy and my motivation to write had lessened. But I am back and slowly going through my inbox requests! Thank you all for the constant love and support. Excited to put out more writing for you!

Jake had no idea how he was the one picking up coffee for the group, but here he was standing in line at an overly crowded coffee shop, twenty minutes out of the way of base.

It was obvious that he didn’t fit in with this crowd. Hipster was the word that came to mind seeing the strange outfits and unruly haircuts. Someone wearing a crisp uniform and hair with every strand in perfect place screamed odd man out. He was uncomfortable to say the least and swore up and down he would never be doing this again.

Bradley told him they ordered ahead so he wouldn’t have to worry about going through the order of nearly ten coffees, but scanning the pick-up counter told him he would have to wait some.

He found a small corner out of the way of traffic and took in his surroundings. One of the benefits of a place like this meant people watching would entertain him until the order was ready.

There was a couple splitting a bagel not too far from him. It looked like something out of a cheesy movie, with the whispering and lovey smiles. He had to bite his tongue to keep from snorting out loud.

The next group he saw looked to be college students strung out on entirely way too much caffeine with the way they were frantically typing. He didn’t miss those days of cramming for exams and writing pointless papers at the last minute. But he did think he at least looked a bit more put together when he was their age. Or that’s what he told himself.

Jakes eyes nearly passed over the young woman in the opposite corner from him, quietly writing in a notebook. She was locked into whatever she was working on, despite all the noise around her. Between the music playing throughout the store, expresso machines going off, and countless conversations being had, Jake had no idea how the woman could get any work done. But here she was, chewing on the end of her pen lost in thought, not giving anything around her an ounce of attention.

He found himself starting to really look at her. She was dressed casually but somehow managed to make it look almost professional. Her hair was pulled back into one of those giant clips that he never understood how it stayed in place all day. The makeup was minimal, but she didn’t need it in his opinion.

“Hangman?” Jake nearly jumped when he heard his order called out, breaking him away from the thoughts of the random stranger across the way. He politely nodded thanks to the barista and took the two drink carriers from her. But before he walked out, he threw a quick glance over his shoulder nearly tripping over himself when he saw the woman looking up at him. He recovered as quickly as possible, making it through the door without dropping anything.

It was on the way to base that the thoughts starting spiraling out of control. Was it a coincidence that she looked up as he was leaving? Was it his call sign that pulled her attention? And if so, why? Jake shook his head, stopping himself from continuing down the rabbit hole. He had zero interaction with this woman and yet his mind wouldn’t get off her. It was early in the morning, and he wasn’t fully awake to be making rational decisions. Or at least that’s what he told himself.

Bradley and Natasha met him outside the locker room, thanking him for grabbing the coffee. He grumbled a response and went to his locker to put his things up. Bradley didn’t give much thought to the minimal interaction with the pilot, but Natasha did. “Everything go okay with the order?”

Jake nodded his head and shut his locker. “Just don’t see why you need something that expensive and out of the way when we have a perfectly good coffee machine here.” Natasha shook her head with a smirk, realizing just how out of his element he must have been.

“It’s good coffee. Can’t help that I have expensive taste.” Jake huffed out a breath, “Lord help your future husband.”

It was a week later when he got a text from Natasha begging him to grab her a coffee from the same damn place. He went to reply no, when another text popped up saying she was running late and would buy lunch to make up for it. Rolling his eyes, he replied back saying he was feeling something expensive for lunch to match his taste. An emoji with a lovely hand gesture was sent back with the word “fine”, making him chuckle. At least it was one coffee this time.

Jake took a deep breath as he walked into the coffee shop, mentally preparing himself for what seemed like unorganized chaos. The place was packed with nearly ten people in line waiting to order. He looked down at his watch and saw that he was here around the same time as last week, but for some reason today was busier than before.

The counter was filled with drink orders, taking him a minute to read through all the names. His friends’ wasn’t there yet and he turned to find refuge in his corner while he waited. He looked around at the people and while they weren’t the same as before, the types of groups remained the same.

“For someone who looked like he’d rather gouge his eyes out than be here last week, you came back.” A soft voice pulled his attention down to a woman sitting at a table close to him, revealing the beautiful stranger he had just managed to stop thinking about.

Jake opened his mouth to respond, but for some reason words wouldn’t form. He could slap himself for looking like an idiot in front of her. He had never once been at a loss for words with a woman, but something about her made himself conscious of everything he did.

“I didn’t mean to call you out like that. I just didn’t expect to see you back so soon.” She was smiling up at him, making the tops of his ears burn.

“A friend was running late and asked if I could pick up her order.” It was a short statement, but the smile on the woman’s face dimmed a bit. “Must be some girl for you to put yourself through this first thing in the morning.”

Jake quickly shook his head trying to back track, “She’s my teammate and promised me lunch if I did this. Nothing more.” The woman hummed and looked back down at her notebook.

“Well, if you make this a regular thing, I am good friends with the staff and might be able to get your order out a bit quicker. Wouldn’t want you to go into crisis mode over a coffee shop.” She was biting back a smile as she poked fun at his clear discomfort of the place, but Jake couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Darlin’, you have no idea how much that would mean to me.” Why he just committed to this being a regular thing, he had no idea. But he did know he wanted to see the beautiful stranger again.

“Hangman, right?” His eyebrows shot up at the remembrance of his call sign. “Hangman is my call sign. You can call me Jake.” Her eyes sparkled in what he thought was amusement.

“Well Jake, my name is Y/N, and I would be happy to help you out. I am here most days working on things. Why don’t you give me your number so you can text me when you plan on stopping by. That way I can let my friends know to look out for your order.” This girl was nothing but confident. Jake didn’t think he had ever had a woman ask for his number before and he couldn’t get enough of it.

“Hangman?” His name was called out like last time, but instead of feeling relieved to get out of the overcrowded shop, he wanted to stay as long as possible. “Better get going, pilot. Wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.” She gave him a wink, something that he normally did with women, and knew he was already in trouble.

He chuckled and shook his head, grabbing the coffee and headed out to work. He hadn’t made it out of the parking lot before his phone vibrated with a text. “Make sure it’s not another week before you come back in. I might forget all about you.” Jake smiled and drove to base, texting her back when he pulled in.

“Wouldn’t want to keep a beautiful woman waiting.” The smile never once left his face as he walked in. Natasha thanked him over and over again for the coffee but stopped when he saw the difference in his demeanor this time. “What’s gotten into you?” He shrugged his shoulders, “You were right. The coffee there is worth the drive.”

She gave him a skeptical look but didn’t push him any further. She would rather have a happy Jake than one who was ready to pick you apart at a moment’s notice.

And that’s how it was for the next month. Jake volunteered to get the coffee, finding any excuse to talk to his beautiful stranger. But the visits became longer, and the texting became more regular to the point where every free moment he had was spent getting to know her. It wasn’t long before Jake asked Y/N on a date, and he quickly found that this girl was the one for him.

Everyone knew something was up with their teammate. He had become less selfish and more of a team player. A feat no one thought was possible but didn’t want to push their luck. It wasn’t until Natasha said she would get her own coffee that the truth came out.

“Jake, you have been getting my order for me for nearly a month now. I can get it this once and give you a break from the drive. Just let me know your order.” Jake shook his head at her and said he had no issues getting it.

Natasha kept pushing until Jake blurted out, “I see someone every time I go there. It is one of the few times the two of us get to spend time with each other because of our schedules.” She stopped and thought about what he had said. Who there would he see every single time?

And then it clicked.

“Oh god. Tell me you aren’t seeing Y/N.” Jake tilted his head in confusion. “How the hell do you know her?”

Natasha looked at him in shock. “Because she owns the coffee shop. And her dad is our boss.”

Jake froze as he took in her words. Owning the coffee shop made sense. She was there all the time and said she knew the staff well, because it was her staff. That didn’t bother him. What did was not knowing who her dad was.

“I didn’t know Maverick had a daughter.” Natasha shook her head.

“Not Maverick you idiot. Admiral Simpson.”

And that was when certain things clicked into place. She looked up at him the first day because she knew the call sign. Her dad had to of talked about them a time or two, especially with this new assignment. The amusement she had when he told her his name was for the same reason. She knew who he was, but he didn’t have the slightest clue who he had been talking to. This girl was okay with the last-minute changes in plans or the late replies due to his schedule because she had grown up with it. The group insisted on getting coffee there because they were supporting someone in the TopGun family.

He was head over heels for the Admirals daughter and was royally screwed when he found out.

A/N: Thoughts? Likes or dislikes? I always love hearing back from you all! Thank you so much for reading!

Tag list: @rosiahills22 @sunlitsunflowers @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @luckyladycreator2 @atarmychick007 @bobfloydsgf @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @topguncultleader @alilstressyandlotdepressy @avengers-fixation @chaoticassidy

#hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #topgun maverick #top gun maverick #topgun #hangman #chelsea writes

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demonpiratehuntress · 6 months

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How the Straw Hats React to Your Period

Includes: OPLA!Zoro, OPLA!Sanji, OPLA!Luffy, OPLA!Usopp, f!reader

A/N: I actually have a one-shot written of Zoro's reaction to your period, which I'll post after this. But I hope you enjoy reading this :)

ZORO

"NO! NO! (NAME) I'M SORRY!"

Luffy's loud scream was what woke the swordsman from his nap today, one of his eyes shooting open to see what the fuss was about. Luffy zipped across the deck in front of him, holding onto his hat for dear life as you chased him around with a kitchen knife, curses and threats spewing past your lips.

"Luffy! Get back here!"

Zoro looked at Nami and Sanji, who were watching the scene while trying to stifle giggles. Usopp was behind Sanji, visibly shaking. The swordsman turned his gaze back to you and Luffy, where you were handling the captain by the collar of his vest. Before you could do anything to him, however, Zoro grabbed your wrist and stopped you.

"What now-" You turned, your eyes widening when you saw your boyfriend. "Zoro-"

"Why are you trying to kill our captain?" He asked, then paused. "Okay let me rephrase. Why do you have a knife?"

You suddenly burst into tears, and for the first time since Kaya's mansion, Zoro jumped in fright and alarm. It didn't take long for your face to be a mess of tears, and you were babbling something he couldn't hear through your sobs.

"Calm down," he let go of your wrist and gently took the knife away from you, handing it to Luffy before feeling you suddenly smack his arm. "What was that for?"

"Don't tell me to calm down!" You yelled, still crying but now very irritated. "He ate my food!"

"So?"

"So Sanji made it especially for me!" You whined. "He knows what I like on my period!"

At the mention of Sanji, Zoro growled and lifted you up, tossing you over his shoulders, "I also know what you like."

Minutes later, you were laying on his chest in his hammock, after he had brought you some more food and something to drink. He was lazily rubbing over your uterus, which he had learned - after three of your periods - calmed you down. You were content for now, eating an insane amount of food and cuddling your boyfriend, but he couldn't deny that he was a little afraid of you during these times. Still, he did his best to make sure you were okay, knowing how badly you cramped and how much pain your body was in during these days. Whatever you asked of him, he did without complaint.

SANJI

No one had seen you for hours now. That usually wouldn't be a problem, if it wasn't the middle of the day and if you didn't usually spend this time learning how to fish from Sanji. Everyone except Nami seemed to be confused, but she wouldn't tell anyone what was going on, too busy reading her charts. So your boyfriend decided to check for himself, regretting not coming sooner when he saw what state you were in.

"My love, what's wrong?"

The cook was by your side in an instant, his ears now picking up on the soft groans and whimpers you were letting out. You were clearly in pain, but you didn't want to lift your head up to tell him why. He had to gently remove the blanket from your face, and cup your cheek in his hand.

"What can I do to make it better?"

"Food," you mumbled, before groaning again and burying your face in his thigh. "And you."

That didn't really make any sense, but it didn't matter to Sanji. He didn't want to leave you alone while you were in pain, so he quickly brought a cloth he had doused in hot water and laid it over your uterus, knowing heat would help the pain. Then he kissed your forehead and promised the food would come soon, before rushing off to make your favourite.

"Where's (Name)?" Luffy asked Sanji, coming into the kitchen. "Haven't seen her all day."

"She's resting," the cook answered, before slapping the captain's hand away from the food. "That's for her."

Luffy was about to protest, but then he turned and went down to your room to check on you. Sanji would have warned him, but he was already gone before he could.

What came next was a loud bang and a the unmistakable sound of someone hitting the wooden walls of the ship. Followed by a dazed groan. Sanji tried not to laugh as Luffy came stumbling back into the kitchen, his eyes wide.

"What did you do?"

"I poked her cheeks until she told me what was wrong."

"Did she tell you?"

"No, but she punched me."

Sanji did laugh then, watching Luffy go back out to bother someone else - probably Zoro - as he gathered up the plate and hot drink he had prepared for you and went back to your room. He set the food and drink down, slipped into the bed next to you, and brought you close as he fed you the food and kept the heated cloth in place over your uterus. He was aware of how painful these few days were for you, so he tried his best to make it at least a little easier. And he always did.

LUFFY

THE MOST OBLIVIOUS MAN TO EVER LIVE. This guy has no idea what's in store for him, and he has no idea how to deal with it either. He can't help his annoying nature, but when you get your period he tries his best to shut up sometimes. Sometimes. He can't keep up with your mood swings, and even less with your cramps, but he tries. The poor guy. You always feel so bad after your periods, knowing you yelled at him for no reason or snapped unwillingly when he's never ever raised his voice at you or argued.

"(Name)!" Luffy whined. "That was mine!"

You had just swiped something off his lunch plate - something he did way more often to you - when those words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. He had - once again - forgotten what time of the month it was. He was reminded when your eyes glossed over with tears, and your bottom lip trembled. Everyone else flinched as you started crying, getting up to run off to somewhere else.

"Luffy!" Nami smacked the back of his head.

"Idiot," Zoro grumbled, face-palming.

Luffy looked confused, wondering why everyone was telling him off. Only when Usopp nudged him in the direction you ran off did he get it. He was slow, but he always understood - eventually. He got up to follow you, finding you curled up in the crow's nest, shaking and crying into your knees.

"Hey, (Name)," he sat down next to you. "I'm sorry."

"You're an idiot, you know," you grumbled, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes.

He laughed, and you frowned, before he suddenly pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his arms around you. He extended them so they encased you like a cocoon, having heard from Nami that keeping you warm might help with the pain. But also, he knew how much you loved it when he cuddled you like this. All your pain and anger faded away, and the tears stopped as your body completely relaxed in his embrace. You felt yourself nodding off, and pretty soon you were fast asleep, head tilted onto your boyfriend's shoulder. He smiled. He was lucky that you were so patient with him. Because it took him a while, but he would always make sure you were okay during these few unbearable days.

USOPP

This poor, poor boy. Having been around Kaya for most of his life, he wasn't new to what periods were. However, you were not like Kaya. You were aggressive, you were angry, you were violent, and it terrified him to his core. He knew you didn't mean to be, but your fluctuating hormones made you so moody and grumpy that he was almost tempted to hide from you for those few days. But he knew you needed him. So he did what he does best, he told you funny, made-up stories to make you laugh.

They...had the opposite effect.

He was alarmed when you started crying halfway through his infamous goldfish story, instantly reaching out to take your hand, "(Name), what's wrong? Does it hurt? I can go get something-"

"Why did you punch the goldfish?" You sniffled, looking up him with teary eyes.

He was taken aback by your question, his jaw dropping. No one ever asked that, and he was wondering why you were worried about the goldfish when he claimed it was attacking him.

"Why-"

"It was an innocent animal!" You whined, smacking his arm suddenly and then crying even more. "It didn't do anything!"

Usopp stuttered and stammered and tried to defend himself, but you were so concerned about the fish you didn't want to hear it. Shaking his head with a sigh, he just slipped into the bed next to you and brought you against his chest, kissing the top of your head. You were very very emotional, but he was learning how to appropriately handle it. And you appreciated that he was trying his best to make you smile. He made your periods bearable.

#opla!zoro x reader #one piece live action #opla #opla!sanji x reader #opla!usopp x reader #opla!luffy x reader #opla x reader #opla zoro #opla sanji #opla usopp #opla luffy

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bakuliwrites · 1 year

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MC Falling Asleep on M6's Lap (Baewatch)

It's been a hot minute since I posted anything and, unfortunately, I don't have the brain power to do any new content. But I figured I would post a headcanon from my old blog. Someone had requested this a long time ago and I loved writing it. The idea was so cute! I love the Baewatch tale and the bonfire scene at the end is so fun. So, here you go! Also, updated my banners just to try out something new :)

Asra is more than prepared for you to fall asleep on his lap. In fact, he can sense your exhaustion before even you can. He gives you a knowing smirk at your first yawn, leans back where he’s seated in the sand, and offers up his lap for you to lay your head in.

“I’m not sleepy,” you insist, crossing your arms indignantly. But his lap looks pretty inviting. Within minutes, you’re conked out, head cradled by Asra’s legs. He tenderly runs his fingers through your hair, smiling softly down at your slumbering form.

When it’s time to leave, he gently rouses you from your sleep. “MC,” he whispers, carefully shifting you in his lap, “It’s time to go.” Groggily, you rise. Hand in hand, you and Asra walk the length of the beach, back to your room, where you get some much needed rest, snuggled up in his arms <3

You’re already resting your head on Nadia’s lap when you feel the first twinge of exhaustion. Your eyes start to droop, though you try desperately to keep them open. You want to watch Julian’s magical fire display, but you’re just so tired.

Nadia discovers you’re asleep when she looks down to see if you’re enjoying yourself. She smiles to herself, moving a strand of your hair aside that’s fallen in front of your eyes. She thinks you look positively adorable. So adorable, in fact, she feels suddenly compelled to pinch your cheeks (but refrains, not wanting to rudely awaken you).

When it’s time to go, Nadia lays a soft kiss on your forehead and whispers your name. She guides you back to your room, holding you close and keeping you warm in the chilly night air. She makes sure you have everything you need before snuggling up beside you in bed<3

You’re dazzled by the multicolored lights flashing before your eyes, changing with each powder Julian tosses into the fire. There’s so much joy floating around the campfire, you find yourself feeling utterly relaxed. So relaxed, in fact, that you lay your head down in Julian’s lap and pass out.

Julian’s too busy showing off his magical powders to notice you’ve fallen asleep, at first. But when he finally does take notice, he makes sure to quiet down. He rubs small circles on your back, gazing thoughtfully down at your peaceful face. He’s glad to see you so restful.

When it’s time to go, he doesn’t bother to try waking you. Instead, he carefully lifts you into his arms and carries you back to your room. He’s so very gentle when he tucks you in, stealthily sliding into bed beside you and cuddling you close <3

Portia practically pulls you into her lap when she notices you yawning. With a wink, she promises she’ll wake you up if anything crazy exciting happens. You smile up at her before falling asleep to the comforting sensation of her combing her fingers through your hair.

You’re knocked out for the remainder of the bonfire. Portia makes mental notes of all the things you’re missing, ready to regale you with all of the nonsense that occurred while you slept. She marvels over the fact that you could sleep through Lucio’s racket (though she did see your face twist in what could’ve been annoyance when he was being particularly loud). She was quick to quiet him down, shooting him a dirty look.

When it’s time to leave, Portia leans in to whisper in your ear, “Come on, cuddle bug. It’s time to go.” She giggles as your eyes flutter open and you flash a quizzical look her way. She’s never called you “cuddle bug” before and you’re not sure how you feel about it. You can’t help but laugh a little as she guides you back to the room, ready to settle in for the night with you <3

Muriel has been silent, as usual, the whole of the night. But you’ve caught him smiling a few times. He seems a bit mesmerized by the changing colors of the fire. Seeing him relaxed makes you feel even more relaxed than you already were. You lay your head down in Muriel’s lap, which startles him at first, and decide to close your eyes for a minute.

Well, a minute becomes a while. You’re lulled to sleep by Muriel’s warmth, the crackle of the fire, and the gentle rush of the waves. Muriel is rigid when he discovers you’ve fallen asleep on him. He doesn’t move a muscle the entire rest of the night, terrified to wake you up. In fact, he barely breathes in fear of rousing you (something you’ll laugh about later).

When it’s time to go, he awkwardly lifts you from the ground, cradling you gently in his arms. You wake up on the walk back to your room, but he keeps you snuggled up in his embrace. When you reach home, you fall asleep again, wrapped up in his arms <3

In the brief moment that night when Lucio is actually sitting still, you manage to lay your head in his lap. “Don’t you go falling asleep on me, MC!” he teases, catching you yawning, “The night is young, yet!” You roll your eyes at him, settling further in. Secretly, he’s happy you’re cuddling up with him.

Despite Lucio’s hullabaloo, you manage to fall asleep. When he looks down to ask if you want anything else to eat or drink, he notices you’re passed out in his lap. A lot of things go through his mind, all at once. He has half a mind to draw a moustache on you, smiling devilishly at the thought. But he’s also just really delighted that you’re relaxed enough with him to fall asleep.

He lets you rest (though he’s not very good at keeping quiet for you and, in his excitement over the bonfire, he definitely bonks you in the head a couple times with his knee which is followed up by profuse apologies, smooches, and hushes for you to go back to sleep). When it’s time to go, he shakes you awake (a bit unceremoniously), but makes up for it when you return to your room by tucking you into bed and cuddling up beside you <3

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 10 days

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Back to You 💌

You and Eddie used to be friends, the best of friends since meeting during childhood. Now your friendship is in tatters and Eddie hates you? Right?

Enemies to lovers fic, childhood friends, idiots in love, protective Eddie, minors shoo.

Eddie Munson x Reader

Brief Billy Hargrove x Reader

If you have any requests send me an ask 💌 make sure to read my request rules on my pinned post 💞 💌

🎀

You remembered the day you and Eddie stopped speaking like it was yesterday.

Exactly a year ago you auditioned for the cheerleading squad and made the team, you were so excited and rushed to tell Eddie.

He was actually supportive of you joining the squad but the thing he didn't like was your new friends. They thought Eddie was a freak and Eddie hated the lot of them with a passion.

No matter how you tried to make it work the distance grew between you both and culminated in a final argument that the two of you never recovered from.

It was now your senior year and the bond between you and Eddie was still shattered, he became more ensconced in his group of friends and in Hellfire Club and you settled nicely with your friends.

Animosity hung between you both and more often than not it led to the two of you bickering. It was like the two of you were never friends at all.

The thought makes your stomach clench and your throat tighten. For as much as you pretended to despise Eddie, it couldn't hide the fact that you missed him, the little ache never really went away.

Though you had no doubt that Eddie didn't care one about you anymore and that sends a wave of hurt through you. There was only so much that icy glares and mean barbs could hide.

Speak of the devil. Eddie stops talking to the rest of Hellfire and glares at you, there's a stubborn frown on his face that turns into a smirk.

"Staring at me again sweetheart? Anyone would think you were into me" he looks so smug and you clench your fists, remind yourself to count to three before you engage in his shit.

"As if Munson, Your voice carries across the cafeteria. Not everyone wants to hear your delusional rants you know" Eddie's eyes narrow and he folds his arms across his chest, his gaze pins you to the spot.

The rest of Hellfire looks back and forth between the two of you. You and Eddie both argued so much you were sure it must be entertainment for his friends.

Gareth and Jeff used to be your friends too a tiny traitor voice whispers to you and you swallow down the fact that you miss them too.

"Why don't you go back to your table and continue being a bitchy, vapid princess yeah?" God you hated him, you really did.

You give him one final dirty look and don't give him the satisfaction of seeing the words have upset you. It's not like he would care if they did.

He stopped caring about you a long time ago.

...

Parties really weren't your thing at all but this was the third one that Jason invited you to in two months so you figured you better show your face for a little bit.

As soon as you enter the party you wish you could turn around and go back home. The only saving grace is Chrissy who tucks you by her side and takes away some of the anxiety you're feeling.

Eddie is here because of course he is. No doubt he's selling weed, you'd give him shit for it but you know that he does it to help his uncle with money. How could you give him shit for that?

You're pulled out of your musings by a gentle tug on your hair and you turn to find Eddie behind you with a shit eating grin on his face.

"Did you just pull my hair, what are we five again Edward?" His eyes light up and he smiles at you, all dimples and mischievous.

"I love when you're angry princess. It's kinda hot" you still and his words disarm you for a minute. Only a minute.

"Hot? As if you would sully your precious reputation by dating one of them and I quote "Buttheads from the dark side" he was just doing this to rile you up and it was working.

He doesn't answer and you realise your heart is racing waiting for him to say something. A tiny bit of disappointment fills you but you choose to ignore it and storm past him.

Maybe you would be able to enjoy the party if you could just avoid Eddie but then you see one person who you work hard to never see at all costs. Someone worse than running into Eddie.

Billy Hargrove, surrounded by people as he chugged from a keg of beer.

Ugh. Seeing Billy was enough to annoy you at the best of times but this? Drunk Billy was a whole level of irritating. The two of you briefly dated last year and it was nice at first, until he cheated on you with some girl from another school outside of Hawkins and you found them at the cinema making out with not a care in the world.

What the hell did he want? "Hey babe, fancy seeing you here?" he smirks and walks over to you, swiftly blocking your way out. Fuck.

"Hargrove. Move your ass from my sight will you?" you snap, you're already verging on getting a headache, talking to him will just make it worse.

"Such harsh words honey. I mean last year you were all over me and now this?" You wince as you remember being really into Billy, god you were an idiot.

"Temporary insanity" you snap and he grins and leans close to you.

"Oh honey, it's your fault if you think you meant anything to me in the first place" fury curdles in your stomach. Asshole.

"Is there a problem here?" you freeze and let out a groan. Oh great. Just who you need to appear, Eddie.

His eyes are narrowed as he looks at Billy who smirks and moves past Eddie. "Nah Munson, just catching up with an old friend" he winks at you and you turn away still fuming and your eyes wet. Ah fuck.

"Dickhead, Eddie mutters and his glare turns to you but softens just slightly at your tears, "What the fuck did you see in him princess?" He demands and you shrug.

"No idea. He is a dick" it startles you that both you and Eddie are in agreement. You wipe your eyes and Eddie's fist clenches.

"You shouldn't cry over him princess" he tells you and his voice is still gentle. You peer up at him and feel that pull towards him, the pull that never really went away.

"Like you can talk Munson" Eddie's eyes widen and he stiffens when you say this and his gaze turns agonized.

"I never want to make you cry sweetheart" he swallows hard and still looks bereft. You can't stand seeing that look on his face.

"It only happened once" you shrug it off but it still doesn't clear that look from Eddie's face. He follows you as you need outside, trying to think of something to say to him.

Then the heavens open and rain begins to beat down on you both.

"Uh shit. Do you want me to take you home or something?" You shake your head at Eddie's suggestion, it's sweet but your parents aren't home tonight, you were meant to be staying with one of the girls.

"They aren't home. I'm supposed to be staying with one of the girls but I just want to get away from this shit for a night" Eddie nods and opens his van door for you.

"Then milady. To my castle I shall take you" you hadn't been back to Eddie's in such a long time but right now it was all you wanted and you gesture at him to lead the way.

Billy's words still echo in your mind as eddie drives. You thought you meant something to Billy last year but your hopes were quickly dashed. Your hopes of maybe finding someone who could love you for you were smashed to pieces.

If you were being honest with yourself the one person who you thought you would end up with was Eddie, when you were friends the thought would sometimes enter your mind. A far off future after high school where you and Eddie were happy and in love.

Obviously that went to shit too. You weren't Eddie's type. You had seen the girls he hooked up with occasionally and they were nothing like you, now it didn't matter because he hated you.

This makes your mood worse, just a bit. Then again if he hated you why was he being so kind to you right now?

You ask him as he leads you into the trailer, the question won't leave your mind and you need to ask.

"Eddie why are you doing this? You hate me don't you?" his eyes widen when you ask this and you flash back to the first time you met Eddie when you were four and he ran off some jerk who tried to steal your sweets in school. He was protective of you, even then.

"Okay uh let's get one thing straight, you can annoy the hell out of me but I could never ever hate you princess" this warms your heart just a little bit.

"Well ditto"

You kiss Eddie's cheek, his heated gaze meets yours and you're so tempted to kiss him. It's an impulsive thought but it's not really all that surprising.

"You want to kiss me" he gently teases and you swat his arm playfully. He really could read you like a book, even now.

"Please, as if. I know I'm not your type anyway. I've seen the girls you've hooked up with" Eddie is quiet for a second and that startles you, he's never quiet. He's always on the go and running his mouth about something or other, usually Jason.

"They didn't mean anything. They weren't you" he says the last part so softly that you have to move closer to hear it but you do. Like magnets the two of you move closer and closer...

Then Eddie's lips meet yours and it's... It's everything. It's perfect. Wayne also picks the perfect time to walk in and you and Eddie break apart.

Wayne smiles when he sees you, "Well hi there honey, haven't seen you around in a long time" it has been a while and you feel an ache deep in your bones. You've missed being here, it's one of the places that feels like home to you.

"I've missed it, being here" you admit to him and Wayne smirks a little bit.

"Mmm, someone else has missed you around here too" he nods to Eddie who glares at him.

"Yeah thanks for that old man" Wayne shrugs looking like he's trying really hard not to laugh and invites you to stay for a little while longer.

When he's busy with setting up some dinner Eddie leans into you and whispers in your ear.

"I do miss you" his voice shakes a tiny bit and his big brown eyes are full of tenderness. It's taken a lot for him to admit it and you take your hand in his.

"Ditto"

💌🎀💓

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson angst #enemies to lovers #eddie munson imagine

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minkyungseokie · 20 days

Text

Three’s A Crowd II | Pierre Gasly + Kika Gomes

synopsis; pierre and kika are still trying to get the oblivious and feeling denying y/n to realize just how in love they are with her, but y/n refuses to believe it

warnings; poly, gxg, throuple, homophobia, internalized homophobia, hateful family,

mentions of weaponizing religion, questioning someone’s faith, verbal and physical abuse, and disowning a minor

This is not meant to offend anyone. This is singing both me and a couple I know have experienced.

note; not requested

note2; bruh, I had so much trouble writing this and getting it out. I had so many ideas, but no way of excecuting any of it.

Sorry if this isn’t good enough. I tried to put this off until i could come up with something, but I didn’t want to leave ya hanging

Let's ignore the one in light mode. Also, I know people have lives, but the slug like rate F1 fics are being posted concerns me lol.

Autosports Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Pierre Masterlist

I do not give anyone permission to change, copy, or put my work on any other platform. It will only be on top, so if you see it, please report it. Or let me know.

Y/n sighed. She had woken up due to the sensation of needing to go to the bathroom and the room being way too hot, only to find Pierre and Kika wrapped around her as if she were a tree and they were sloths. Well, more like Kika was holding onto her as if she was a sloth and Y/n was a tree, with her arms wrapped around Y/n's neck loosely and her leg thrown over her hips. Pierre was also clinging onto her, but he somehow ended up on top of her, which was why she was in her current predicament.

She desperately needed to pee, but she didn't want to wake them up. She needed the time before they woke up to fully think about how she felt.

She wanted to confess to the couple every minute she spent with them. Her heart told her to confess and finally get the love she had been yearning for, but her head told her no. Her head told her that she was disgusting for liking two people at once, her head told her that she is a homewrecker for liking both of them and possibly breaking them up,, her head told her to protect her heart from rejection and keep the friendship rather than sacrifice it for her selfish feelings.

She had so much going on inside her head that she needed to leave the room right them or else she'd break down and she would rather not have to explain why she's having a random breakdown in the bed.

Y/n managed to get Pierre off of her and wrapped around Kika instead before jumping out of bed and hightailing it to the bathroom. She sat on the toilet and wrapped her arms around herself. She couldn't get into a relationship even if she was willing to ruin her friendship. Despite her saying that she was confident and secure in her sexuality, she really wasn't.

Being raised in a highly homophobic environment where she was taught to be a submissive house wife and her brother was raised in the mindset of a toxic "alpha" male. Y/n may have been kicked out because she didn't take in the teachings her parents tried to force into her mind, but she was still raised in a household where being different was disgusting for twenty years of her life.

It was a hard mindset to get rid of without the correct help and, to be quite honest, she never talked to anyone about it other than Pascale Leclerc, who wanted to put Y/n into therapy. If Y/n didn't basically have a panic attack when the therapist tried to pry too far, too fast, things probably would've been different.

Y/n tried to swallow the lump in her throat and keep the tears from exiting her tear ducts. Y/n began to sniffles and furiously wipe her eyes as the tears fell down her face.

Kika stretched as Pierre got out of the bed and put on a shirt, "Where's Y/n?" Kika asked, scratching her head. "Not sure. She was gone when I woke up. Maybe the bathroom since the door is closed." Pierre shrugged, leaning over to kiss the model. Kika stood up and walked up to the bathroom door, "Hey, Minha linda. Are you okay in there?" Kika spoke, knocking on the thick wooden door.

Y/n didn't answer.

"Minha linda?" Kika called out, pressing her ear to the door to see if she could hear any movement or the shower. Kika's heart lurched when she heard labored breathing rather than the sound of water running, "Y/n?! Are you okay? Can I come in, please?" Kika asked worriedly, putting a hand on the doorknob.

Pierre looked over at the sound of his girlfriend's panicked voice. The French man dropped what was in his hand and marched over to his girlfriend's side, "What's wrong, mon cœur?" Pierre questioned worriedly. "I think something's wrong with Y/n. She seems to be in distress." Kika answered, turning back to the door and trying the doorknob.

It was locked just as she thought.

"Y/n? Please let us in. We just want to make sure that you're okay." Pierre spoke up, knocking on the door gently, but there was no answer. Kika put her ear to the door to see if she could hear more, only to hear hyperventilating, "She's hyperventilating. We have to get in there." Kika said, "There's a key right here just in case." Pierre explained, reaching up to grab a key off the doorframe. Kika snatched the key and fumbled trying to put it in the keyhole, "Stop, stop, stop. Kika, look at me. I need you to take a deep breath and calm down. Panicking will not help our Y/n." Pierre soothed.

Kika nodded, taking a few deep breaths. In, out, in, out.

Now calmed, Kika inserted the key into the keyhole and unlocked the door. Pierre grabbed the doorknob and swung the door open, "Oh, shit. She's having a panic attack." Pierre cursed. "I'm going to touch you, is that alright?" Pierre asked, hands hovering over Y/n's body, waiting until he got permission before sitting on the floor and pulling Y/n into his lap with Kika sitting right next to them looking up what to do when one is having a panic attack, "Okay, first step is to remain calm and ask them if they need anything." Kika instructed.

"Do you need anything, mon cœur?" Pierre muttered, holding Y/n to his chest. Y/n shook her head, but her panic attack ensued, "Can you raise up a hand for me?" Kika asked, hovering a hand over Y/n's back. Y/n shakily held up a hand and kept it there until Kika told her to put it back down. Kika had the girl repeat the action until her breathing calmed only a bit.

Pierre took Y/n's head and gently put it on his chest, "Can you hear me breathing?" Pierre inquired, earning a nod from Y/n. "Good, now I need you to try a breathe with me. Just try to copy my breathing." Pierre suggested. Pierre took Y/n's hand, Kika took the other one, and placed it on his chest.

Pierre began to take deep breaths until Y/n began to try and copy, "I'm proud of you. Good job." Kika praised, stroking Y/n's curls, "That's it, my girl. Concentrate on your breathing. Stay in the present." Pierre said. "You can get through this." Kika encouraged, placing a kiss on Y/n's forehead.

The couple continued to praise and say words of affirmation until she stopped hyperventilating, but she was still breathing hard and shaking, "Hey, gorgeous. Can you look at me?" Kika asked, placing her hands on Y/n's thighs, gently stroking them as a form of comfort. Y/n turned and looked Kika in the eyes, "That's my girl. Can you name three objects you see for me, hm?" Kika queried.

Y/n's eyes darted around frantically, "Hey, don't stress yourself out. It's okay. You don't need to search. Just name me the first three things you see." Kika gently ordered.

Y/n nodded and took a shaky breath, "Bru-brush, um, r-ring, and...and, um, shoes." Y/n stuttered, looking around.

"Good girl." Pierre praised, stroking Y/n's arm comfortingly, "That's perfect. You're doing amazing. Now, can you name me the things you can hear?" Kika asked. "Yo-you, the wind, a-and Pierre's breathing." Y/n let out a sigh, "Great, not move three body parts." Kika said. Y/n wiggles her toes, then her fingers, and then her ankle. "That's it. You did perfect, chérie." Pierre praised, "You did so amazing. I'm so proud of you." Kika joined the praising.

Y/n took a couple of more breaths and stood up, "Thank you. For helping." Y/n thanked in a dull voice. "Do you want to tell us what caused your panic attack?" Pierre asked, "It's just...I..." Y/n hesitated, Kika reached over and put a hand on Y/n's thigh again, "It's okay. You don't have to tell us if you aren't ready." Kika spoke, "We're here if you want to though." Pierre added.

"I just started thinking about...someone I really like and I began thinking about my family. They weren't the...they didn't like... they were homophobic and when I thought about them. I thought I was confident in my preferences, but I realized just how much my parents teachings affected me." Y/n explained, "Internalized homophobia, I guess."

Pierre and Kika shared a look, "You're...your parents didn't accept the fact that you liked more than men?" Kika asked, "Yeah, they said that the Bible is against same sex love. Just like all the other Christians who hate the LGBTQ, they use the Bible to "prove" their views. I asked my mother, who caught me kissing my best friend, where in the Bible did it say that loving someone of the same sex and she slapped me." Y/n chuckled.

As Y/n talked, she slid down until her head was in Pierre's lap and her bottom was in Kika's. Kika played with Y/n's shirt while Pierre ran his hand through her hair the best he could but since it was curly, he had to settle for scratching her head. "And then what happened?" Kika asked, urging Y/n to continue, "She allowed me to stay for a bit longer, in the house, but there was constant verbal and physical abuse." Y/n swallowed.

"She thought that if they treated me the way others in the world would treat me, it'd convert me. They tried sending me to conversion therapy, but we got into a fight and I got kicked out. Luckily, the Leclerc's took me in and raised me to be the way I am now. I owe them my life. They're the only family I have now and they've tried to help me, but I refused therapy. I thought I had the right mindset, but now I realize that...I'm not as tough as i thought and the family's tracings did, in fact, get to me." Y/n sighed before realizing she was ranting about problems that they weren't apart of.

Y/n didn't realize just how comfortable she felt around them until she was spilling her past to them. “I just realized I’m trauma dumping to you. I’m sorry, you probably don’t want to hear this.” Y/n started to sit up, but Pierre pulled her back down while Kika gently pushed her down. “Mon cœur, if we didn’t want to hear, we wouldn’t have asked. We care about you. We…we love you and we want to hear things about you.” Pierre said, “The good or the bad. We want to know whatever it is you want to tell us.” Kika added.

Y/n looked into Pierre’s ocean blue eyes before locking eyes with Kika. The couple stared at Y/n expectantly, “What?” Y/n asked, eyes darting between the two. Pierre groaned and Kika sighed, Pierre thought she would get what they meant when he said it, but maybe saying it constantly as friends didn’t help.

They would have to find a way to confess that couldn’t be confused as a friendly gesture.

After getting dressed for the day, the three set off to walk around town. They were planning on showing Y/n around Italy by taking her to their favorite spots. Making sure her hands never left theirs or a hand was on her body at all times, they showed her all their favorite places before stopping at a cafe for lunch.

“Ah, this place is so cool,” Y/n said, swinging their connected hands back and forth, “Yeah? Do you think you can make it home? I know you’ve been thinking about moving to Italy or are you staying in Monaco?” Kika questioned. “Maybe. I mean, my family’s in Monaco, but you and Pierre are in Italy. So far, I think that I’m team Italy.” Y/n said absentmindedly.

Kika and Pierre shared an excited look. “Tonight. We tell her tonight.” Pierre mouthed to Kika, who agreed. They’d be confessing their love to Y/n tonight during dinner.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Y/n sat on the beach while Kika and Pierre played in the water. She smiled and took some pictures for Instagram and Twitter later, knowing that Pierre would want some for the photo dump he posted sometimes before the next GP. The girl scrolled through Instagram, just looking at whatever her friends posted and looking at reels until she noticed one with her name in it.

Twitter/X when Y/n, Pierre, and Kika look so cute together, but they can't see it.

With the caption reading, 'I don't understand how they can be so obvious and oblivious at the same time.'

Y/n scrambled onto Twitter to find that she indeed was trending alongside Kika and Pierre. Pressing onto the hashtag with her name on it, she read the posts to see what people were saying

Y/n lowered her phone and stared ahead with wide eyes. Had she actually been missing the signs that Pierre and Kika had been throwing her? They were normally super close. Always touching and being super close, so it was hard for her to tell they wanted to be more than friends.

Y/n looked up at the blue sky, trying to think of anything that could've been seen as a hint as that they wanted to be more than friends with Y/n. Nothing came to mind until she started cycling through the things that they usually do with her throughout the years.

The kissing.

Y/n had never had that type of interaction between any of them before this year. She didn’t know when it started, but she knew it just happened one day and she never questioned it. Her forehead, her temple, her nose, her cheeks, her hands, and the top of her head. Now that she thought about it, there were times where they were close to kissing her lips and she just someone hadn’t noticed.

“What’s got you so concentrated?” Pierre’s voice spoke from behind her as he sat down so that she was between his legs, “Yeah, what’s got your attention like that?” Kika questioned, sitting in between Y/n’s legs.

“Ah, it’s nothing. I was just…thinking about stuff.” Y/n waved off their concern, wrapping her arms around the slightly older model while leaning against Pierre. “Are you sure? You looked deep in thought when we came up. We even called you, but you didn’t answer.” Kika said, “Everything is fine. Again, I was just thinking about something. Do you think we can get some gelato?” Y/n asked, quickly changing the subject.

Kika sat up excitedly, “Ooo, gelato sounds perfect. It’s a good idea. Let’s go!” Kika grabbed Y/n’s hand and ran to the nearest gelato shop, “Wait, Ki. What about Pierre?” Y/n asked, looking at the man who was still sitting on the beach with a confused look on his face. “We’ll get him some too. I just wanted to spend some time alone with you, even if it’s just a couple of minutes.” Kika flirted, batting her pretty little lashes at Y/n.

Y/n practically melted in her flip flops.

Now that she has been made aware that the two openly flirt with her, she was going to try and see it. She could now see that Kika tended to use her large brown eyes to her advantage and it always worked on her unknowingly.

“You’re adorable.” Y/n muttered, pinching Kika’s cheeks causing the girl to groan and slap her hands away, “Stop! You’re acting like my grandmother.” Kika whined. The girls walked up to the counter and ordered their gelatos with Pierre getting bacio, Kika getting stracciatella, and Y/n getting lampone.

“Pierre, we’ve got you gelato!” Y/n sung, playfully swaying hips in a weird dance as the two girls approached the man. “What did you get me?” Pierre asked, grabbing the gelato from Y/n’s hands, “Bacio.” Kika answered, “Mmm, lampone is so good. Do you two want to try?” Y/n asked, holding out a spoonful of her gelato out for Pierre.

Pierre stared into her eyes as he took the spoon in his mouth and licked his lips once she took the spoon back, “Cheeky.” Y/n whispered, turning to feed Kika some of it as well.

Y/n decided that if they were really into her, she’d openly flirt with them and let them make the first move. She wasn’t going to take the word of people online and possibly break up their perfect friendship or the couple’s relationship. If anything were to happen, she’d have to let them to do it to make sure that she doesn’t cross any boundaries and make them uncomfortable. “That real is good. Do you want some of mine?” Pierre asked. The trio kept feeding each other spoonful of gelato and making jokes.

Y/n began to feel uncomfortable with how bright the sun was. She reached into her bag and pulled it sunscreen, “We need to put this on. Tans are amazing, but possible skin cancer is not.” Y/n waved the bottle around. Y/n opened the bottle only to have it snatched out of her hand, “Hey!” Y/n gasped, looking at Pierre, “I’ll help you put it on.” Pierre offered. “I’d this and excuse to touch my ass?” Y/n teased, looking at Pierre through narrowed lids, “Who knows?” Pierre shrugged, smiling at the curly-haired girl.

Y/n lifted her hair up so that Pierre could get her neck, “Kika, sit in front of me. I’ll get you covered if you need sunscreen.” Y/n offered, pulling out another bottle of sunscreen. “Yes, please.” Kika crawled in between Y/n’s legs, putting her hair into a bun so none of the sunscreen got into it.

Y/n sat up so that she was on her knees with her legs in an “L” shape. Y/n opened the sunscreen bottle and began applying it to Kika when she felt Pierre’s hands brushing sand off her ass and then sunscreen being applied to her butt and thighs, “I feel like you’re having too much fun touching my ass, Mr. Gasly.” Y/n hummed, “Maybe I am.” Pierre played along, “You hear this, Kiki? We might have to run away together and leave Pierre behind.” Y/n joked as the model laid on her stomach to give Y/n better access to her body.

Y/n sighed, looking through her Instagram feed with a bored expression on her face. Kika and Pierre had gone out to do lord knows what while she stayed in the villa. Y/n groaned, throwing her phone on the bed. Maybe they were were on a date together and that's why they were taking so long to come back.

Y/n got off the bed and grabbed a towel, going to take a shower while waiting for the couple to come back from doing whatever it was that they were doing. Stepping out of the shower and wrapping the towel around her body, Y/n walked out into the bedroom and grabbed her lotion, deodorant, and stuff for her hair. Just as she was about to remove the towel, the door to the bedroom opened up.

“Merde, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were getting dressed.” Pierre cursed, turning so he wasn’t looking at her body anymore, “Shit, you scared me. You’re lucky that i didn’t take off my towel.” Y/n scolded. “Sorry!” Pierre apologized, but he didn’t make the move to leave the room. “Pierre, what’s taking so long?” Kika asked, pushing past him to see Y/n in nothing but a towel.

Kika pulled an outfit out of a bag and tossed it on the bed, “Here put that on and come out when you’re done.” Kika ordered, pulling Pierre out of the doorway and shut the door behind her. Y/n moisturized her body and held up the outfit that was tossed to her. She recognized that this was an outfit that she had bought when she and Kika went shopping together before the trip.

(If you don’t like the outfit, feel free to imagine your own. Just needs to be black)

She didn’t realize she had packed it.

Y/n put on a pair of boots, put her hair in twin buns, and (put on makeup or not. Your choice) walked out of the room to see that Kika and Pierre are also dolled up. Kika in a black mini dress and heels, and Pierre wearing black pants with thin white lines that crossed to male squares and a black button down.

“You guys look good!” Y/n spoke up, grabbing their attention. Pierre and Kika’s eyes scanned her body like they were staring and analyzing a piece of art, “You look amazing, minha vida.” Kika complimented, “So do you! My gosh, your legs are gorgeous.” Y/n said. Kika’s cheeks turned pink, “Oh, thank you. Pierre, didn’t she look good?” Kika asked, turning to Pierre, who was still staring at Y/n, but with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Pierre? Please stop staring.” Y/n said, looking away nervously, “Pierre.” Kika hissed, nudging her boyfriend. Pierre snapped back to attention and gave Y/n and wrapped an arm around Kika’s waist, “You look nice, chérie.” Pierre said, holding out his arm for Y/n to take.

Y/n looked at his arm and reluctantly took it. Even if the people on Twitter were right, Y/n still felt like she was home wrecking their relationship, which is why she decided to let them take control and comes if they really did like her. Y/n cleared her throat, “So, uh, where are we going?” Y/n asked as Pierre led the two of them to his car, opening the door and pushing the seat forward so Y/n could get into the back. “Out.” Pierre amswered cheekily, “But out where?” Y/n questioned as she put on her seatbelt, “We’re just going out for dinner. It’s the last day of our break together before Suzuka.” Kika explained.

Y/n nodded and looked out the window of the car. The only people who were talking were Kika and Pierre, who were mumbling low so she couldn’t hear what they were saying. Y/n was getting annoyed. After rubbing sunscreen on each others bodies, she thought they’d be more open and flirtatious with her, but it seemed like they were just pulling away more.

Maybe the people online were wrong. Maybe they were just seeing things and upon seeing something that wasn’t actually there, they convinced Y/n that the couple had wanted her the way she wanted them. Y/n sighed and looked down at her hands, maybe she was just being…what do the fans call it? Delulu?

Maybe she was being delulu when it came to her relationship with Kika and Pierre. She had an entire panic attack over being in love with another woman and possibly breaking up a relationship and it turns out it might’ve been justified. The woman’s mood soured right then and there. She didn’t want to go out anymore, but remained quiet because it wasn’t their fault she deluded herself into thinking that they’d love her the way she loved them.

“Y/n? We’re here.” Kika spoke, poking her with her mini Kelly, “Oh? Yeah, I’m coming.” Y/n said, trying not to let the emotion she was feeling bored into her voice. Y/n exited the car, ignoring the hand Pierre was offering to her and walked in the restaurant ahead of the couple, “Does she seem upset to you?” Kika asked, “Yeah, I don’t know. Are you sure we should do this tonight?” Pierre inquired. “We should. It might improve her mood.” Kika said.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It was well into the night and meals were halfway eaten by the time the two were ready to confess. Y/n was just ready to go home because she was tired and didn’t want to continue third wheeling. At the same time, she had no right to be upset when she was the one who deluded herself into thinking they genuinely were interested. Kika wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin before putting it down, "Y/n, there's something we have to--"

"Excuse me."

A new voice interrupted Kika's sentence causing all eyes to turn to the person who interrupted the said woman. It was a gorgeous man with red and black dyed hair, "Hello, can I help you?" Y/n asked politely, "I apologize if this straightforward, but I just thought you were beautiful and wanted to ask if you wanted to come hang out with me." The guy said. Y/n wasn't really interested in him the way he was with her, but she was kind of upset and tired of being the third wheel on this outing, so she didn't see why she couldn't get to know someone new.

The man held out a hand for her to take if she was interested. Y/n looked at the hand and put her hand into his, "Do you guys mind if I go with him? You can make this a date or something." Y/n said, standing up. "It is a date so you can't leave!" Kika blurted, "What do you mean by that, Kika?" Y/n asked, putting her hands on her hips.

"Y/n, we just wanted to spend time with you before we all had to go back to our respective jobs. We don't want you blowing us off for some random ass-- person you just met." Pierre spoke, "Then it should be alright if he sits with us, right? And what were you going to say before you changed the word to person? " Y/n questioned. She wasn't trying to be difficult or break up the time they were spending together, but instead trying to take her mind off of the couple and maybe fall in love with someone available.

"Nothing. He was going to say nothing. Y/n, please sit down and let him go. We are just trying to have a nice evening with you." Kika said, "Kika, I understand that and I'm sorry for trying to invite some random dude out of the blue, but I was tired of being the third-wheel. I want to have someone to talk to while you're being all lovey dovey with each other." Y/n sighed, turning to the guy. "I'm sorry, but can we rain check?" Y/n asked

The man pulled a pen out of his pocket and grabbed a paper napkin nearby, bending down and using the table to write something on the napkin, "Don't worry about it. Finish hanging out with your friends and call me whenever. The name's Milo by the way." The guy said, gently placing the paper into her hands.

"It was lovely meeting you." Y/n said, waving as he left. Once Milo was gone, Y/n turned to the couple with a scowl before taking a deep breathe and sitting down. "Listen, Y/n. We didn't mean to ruin your chances at possibly meeting someone you could have a future connection with, but--" "It's fine. It's whatever. I was... never mind. I'm sorry. I'm just not feeling it tonight." Y/n sighed again.

"And that's fine. We are sorry as well. Right, Pierre?" Kika asked, turning to her boyfriend, "No." Pierre answered causing both girl's heads to shoot up, "What?" Kika gasped, "What do you mean by "no"?" Y/n asked. "I meant no. Listen, I'm sorry you feel like the third wheel and I'm sorry you felt like we weren't giving you enough attention..."

"Pierre, what are you..." Kika started

"We actually invited you to this trip because we had something we've been meaning ot tell you..." Pierre continued

"Pierre..." Kika warned.

"We both love you and before you say that you love us too, we love you. As in, we want you to be our girlfrien--" "Pierre!" Kika hissed, hoping to cut him off before Y/n could fully hear him, but it seemed like it was too late. Y/n sighed, "I know that this is a--''

"Finally. I thought I was being delusional." Y/n gave a sigh of relief. The couple shared a confused look before looking to Y/n, "What do you mean by that?" Pierre questioned, "You think I'd let you touch my ass if I didn't like you? I was oblivious for the first part, but something enlightened me and I saw that it was pretty obvious." Y/n shrugged.

"We were trying to make it obvious, but we didn't expect you to actually get the hints." Kika muttered, "I'm oblivious, not stupid." Y/n joked. "So that finally means I can do this." Pierre surged forward and kissed Y/n deeply, "Pierre, we're still the restaurant." Kika said, pulling him back until he let go of Y/n.

"Wow, I didn't expect that." Y/n said, "You guys go wait by the car while I pay." Pierre suggested. Kika grabbed Y/n's hand and lead her outside while Pierre called the waiter so he could pay the bill.

Pierre also ordered a bottle of wine to go before exiting the resturant to see his girlfriend cuddled up to Y/n. Both girls had dopey smiles on their faces and Y/n had Kika's lipstick smeared on her lips, which gave Pierre an idea of what went on while he was paying. "This means you'll take us as your lovers, no?" Pierre asked, "Yeah, of course." Y/n nodded.

Kika cheered, throwing her arms around the two taller people, bringing them into a group hug. "Ah! Amo-vos muito." Kika muttered, burying her head in Pierre's neck, "Je vous aime tous les deux beaucoup." Pierre spoke before Y/n said it in her own native language.

The trio then went home as a newly formed throuple.

I'm sorry I rushed the ending and at one point I had no idea where this was going. I might take this down and rewrite it, but for now, here's you part two

396 notes · View notes

heartsforvin · 7 months

Text

DATING VINNIE HACKER

hcs about what i think it’d be like to date vin <3

warnings; slight mentions of sex, boner mention, mention of wanting to have kids, i think that’s all but as always, lmk if i missed anything (:

since vinnie is so well known you two decided to keep your relationship private, but not a secret. fans know he’s no longer single, they just don’t know who he’s dating.

the two of you will post pictures together, but not of faces, just like hands or the back of each others heads , kinda like if you were to soft launch the relationship without actually doing so.

the roommates LOVE you, as you with them. sometimes you love them more than vinnie.

he was so nervous to have you meet his parents and brother, but the minute you stepped in the door you were already engulfed in hugs by all three family members.

when vinnie would skate regularly, he’d take you with to skate with him / teach you how.

sometimes he’ll take you on trips, like if he has events to go to out of the country, he’ll take you with.

since it’s just the two of you in the hotel rooms, you know his horny ass will be fucking you all night.

when you can’t attend the events with him and both of you really miss each other, phone sex is suddenly your guys’ best friend.

sometimes when you’re over at his house and he’s streaming, you’ll accidentally start talking, forgetting that he’s streaming, and the chat will go crazy, asking vinnie who is in his room.

on days where neither of you are busy, the two of you will have a movie day, cuddling each other (hera joins you guys too ofc).

this man has the BIGGEST heart ever, so on holidays such as valentine’s day, he’ll go all out and plan a very cute date for the two of you, giving you the most cute gifts as well.

when you guys go back to seattle together he’ll take you around the city and show you all his favorite places he’d go to when he was in high school.

sometimes you’ll watch him and jett work on the cars in the garage and you can’t help but think of how hot your boyfriend looks while doing so.

vinnie knows you absolutely LOVE his long hair, so when he got it cut a little shorter than usual for the first time while being with you, he was so scared you wouldn’t find him attractive anymore.

“baby, you look so hot.” you’d say to him as you run your hand through his hair. the poor boy blushes so hard his cheeks are bright red.

he also knows how much you love his facial hair, sometimes he’ll shave it just to piss you off.

“vin! why’d you do that, you look so good with it!” you’d whine once you see that it’s no longer there.

when he leaves it for a few days you’ll get so excited, wondering when he’ll shave (you secretly wish it won’t be for awhile).

sometimes you’ll get him all riled up by whispering in his ear while with his friends and say, “better keep that for awhile, i love the way it feels when you’re in between my thighs.”

the poor boy will flush bright red and have to make an excuse to use the bathroom to get rid of his boner.

vinnie is for sure just a bit jealous. when out in public together you guys tend to keep the PDA to a minimum, but when he sees a guy that keeps checking you out, he’ll pull you in by the waist and kiss you, making the guy scoff and walk away.

same with you, you know girls are swooning for the boy, so when you hear a girl try to flirt with him, you’ll wrap your arms around his waist and kiss him.

one day vinnie had walked into his room and saw you cradling hera in your arms, kissing her head and the minute he saw that — instant baby fever.

“let’s make a baby.” he whispered in your ear, you just laughed.

“we’re too young for a baby right now, vin.”

“so you’re saying we can in the future?” his eyes lit up so bright you couldn’t help but smile. you told him maybe.

you would admit that he would make a great dad, he’s already an amazing cat dad to hera.

when your guys’ anniversary comes around he goes all out, getting reservations at your favorite restaurant, taking you out stargazing after, and just putting so much effort into it.

you’ll wear his tshirts so often they basically become yours, but vinnie doesn’t mind, he absolutely loves seeing you in them.

when the newest purgatory drops release, he’s sure to get you free merch for being his girl, and you love him for that.

besides all the sex jokes and him basically having a dirty mind 90% of the time, he’s the most caring and sweet boy ever, you can’t believe you get to call him yours.

he can’t believe he gets to call you his girl either, the two of you are so grateful for each other

first hc post i hope you liked it !! i got a little carried away LOL but as always, requests are open !! <3

#vhackerr #vinniehacker #vincent hacker #vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker imagines #vinnie hacker smut #vinniehackerfanfic #vvhacker #vinniehacker headcanons #vinnie x y/n #vinnie x reader

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thatsdemko · 11 months

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the one where they notice - c.sainz

part 2: pining series

pining series masterlist

warnings: ig au posts + lighthearted jokes

a/n: thanks for all the love on part 1!! 🫶🫶

F1GOSSIP

liked by pierregasly, chilisainz, norrizsainz, and 1,368 others.

F1GOSSIP: our favorite Ferrari intern is BACK! y/n y/l/n shared this photo from the race in Australia☺️ we can’t wait to see more from her this 2023 season!

300 comments

norrissainz: we stan y/n!!!

gaslygaze: she’d look so good with Carlos… 👀

leclerc55sainz: she’s too hot for Carlos

liked by yourusername

bottaszhou: Pierre what are you doing here???

—

“so you’re too hot for me, eh?” the words startled you, as you had thought to have been alone. you arrived to qualifying much earlier than the drivers, and thinking you’d have time alone, you figured you’d catch up on your socials having no idea Carlos would see the comment.

“word travels fast around here.” you set your phone down, watching him slide into the empty seat across from you in the garage. it’s just the two of you waiting for everyone to pile in for the meeting. a hot steaming cup of coffee beans fills the smell of the room.

“now that I’m single, I have much more free time to listen to the gossip.” he comments, a chuckle escaping his lips before he sips the hot contents.

you just shake your head. the man across from you was nothing more than a coworker, maybe even an occasional friend from time to time, but you never got close. it was your rule, getting close meant you began to care for the men you worked with, and as much as you did care for them, they couldn’t be your friends. their obligations were to listen to your demands for media presence and that was as far as the contract went.

“you should spend more time on the simulator. spend your lonely nights perfecting your game.” your low blow earned a nod in approval, raising his cup to give you that point.

the silence fills the room. nothing but the sound of him slurping on the hot contents as bodies begin to move into the room for the meeting, and soon enough everyone’s seated.

the silence that once was there, has been born into commotion and you just listen to the mixture of Italian, French, and English flying every which way. your ears and eyes focus on Carlos and Charles conversation, the two always laughing and chatting, you can see Carlos relax with his team. the drama of yesterday and today seem to fade in these walls.

“let’s get started, shall we? we’ve got lots to talk about with Baku on the clock.”

—

qualifying goes rather difficult for one of the Ferraris. the grimace on your face is noticeable once Carlos steps out the car. he flashes a thumbs up to your phone camera for instagram and you quickly post it before shoving the device in your pocket, “we’ll get ‘em tomorrow, sainz. vamos.” you push him in the direction of the media pen and he follows.

“let’s just hope we can. I don’t have much faith left.” he exchanges his helmet for a cap from another intern, before entering the media pen. you don’t get much to say before interviewers swarm him, but like he always does, he flashes you his pearly fake smile before turning to the cameras.

he’d been doing it with you since you told him all of his emotions lie on the surface of his face. his fans can tell when he’s truly not happy, so you made a deal to help teach him how to fake a smile when times were bad.

“no you still look mad! smile with your eyes, dumbass.” you laugh pushing his cheeks to go wider, his giggle grows inside the motorhome, “I’m trying!”

“Carlos, what happened out there?”

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CARLOS AND Y/N???

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f1gossip: seems like things could be spicing up for chili? we noticed the way he looked at our y/n! thoughts?

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sainz55: he’s not even been single for 30 minutes and he’s making eyes at her?

dr3norris: it’s just an inside thing they do!! it’s nothing serious

russellgeorge: I would love to see it! she’s always been on his side(and have you noticed she always posts him in her photo dumps)

f1gossip: you’re onto something here 👀

tags: @arian-directioner @alilstressyandlotdepressy @ak0ma @ruebennett89 @mochimommy2002 @flyingmushroomss @icarus-nex @solo-pitstop-vibes @xjval @chimchimjiminie16 @tifosirussell @celestialpierre @moonvr @laneyspaulding19 @myescapefromthislife @formula1mount @moonyschocolate13 @bbubbllejisoo @summerslike11 @imperfectophelia @bhiees

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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 9 months

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darilaros (princess) │ Chapter 3: Pyre

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

GIF by @hotdcentral

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 (COMPLETE!)

Synopsis: As the second daughter of King Viserys, you experience firsthand what it means to belong to the House of the Dragon. You struggle with the passing of your mother.

Hello! My apologies for the wait. My laptop broke, so I had to go get a new one. It took me a bit to set it all up how I like, and then I had a busy time of it at work + a bit of writer's block. I hope the chapter makes up for it! Keep in mind there are some untranslated bits of HV in here, but I'll make a post + link transcribing all that for those who want. Thank you to @ewanmitchellcrumbs for giving this the go-ahead!

TRIGGERS: character death, exploration of child grief, dysfunctional family dynamics.

It is very quiet now that Mama has died.

Brella is quiet. Septa is quiet. Ana and Peony, the maids who come to make your bed neat again and pick up all the dresses you’ve worn, are quiet. Ser Harrold is quiet—but then, he usually is. None of Papa’s guards seem to want to make a sound now. Neither do Papa’s Councilmen, like Lord Corlys or Lord Lyman, who you sometimes see walking down the halls with very sad looks upon their faces.

You wonder if, when Mama died, she took a part of all these people with her.

She has taken a part of Papa, and of ’Nyra, too. Suppertime is so very quiet that you are afraid to breathe in case everyone can hear it. They both just stare at their plates, eyes puffy and red like yours are when you cry, which means they have been crying, too. They eat their food like someone else is moving their mouths, and when they swallow, it looks like the most painful thing in the whole world.

Papa and ’Nyra haven’t spoken to you since the day of the tourney. You try not to be sad about it, but it’s hard. Now that Mama has gone away, they are your family, and it hurts that your family won’t look at you or say anything to you. It’s almost like they have forgotten all about you.

“They’re grieving,” Alicent tells you, taking your hand in hers as you walk towards the Sept. The stairs are very hard to climb, so she had to help you up, and it was nearly like having Mama again when she pulled you into her arms and held you tight. “Their sorrow has made them blind to all else.”

You don’t really understand what she means. “To me, too?”

“Hm?”

“Their sorrow. It’s made them not see me?”

Alicent stops. Something very soft and sad makes her face droop, and she bends down so that she can look you right in the eyes. “Oh, Princess. They see you. And they love you. But your mother”—she takes a breath that sounds shaky—“she was very important to them. They miss her very much.”

“I miss her, too.” You wonder when Mama will return. How long is ‘never’? No one has ever explained it to you. Hopefully it is soon.

“I know you do.” Alicent stands and grabs onto your hand again, leading you toward the table where so so many candles are.

The room is very hot, all the little fires making you sleepy even though it is only morning time. There are two stools right before the table, and Alicent kneels on one. You try to do the same on the other, but it means you cannot see the candles anymore.

“How about you stand on it instead, Princess?” Alicent asks. She lets you hold onto her shoulder so that you can get up on the stool like she said, which makes it much easier to see. Then, she folds her hands together in front of her chin and bends her head, so you do the same.

It isn’t very interesting to stare at your fingers at first, but after a while, it’s nice. You count all the little folds in your skin—there are a lot—and trace the edges of your thumbnails with your mind over and over. Time goes funny, and you cannot remember why you were ever sad before you came here.

It might be minutes or hours or days before Alicent speaks. “Would you like to light a candle? For your mother?”

“Why?” you ask, frowning. Is candle-lighting how to get Mama to come back? Will she see the light and know it’s me and return with baby Baelon? Is that why so many people pray in the Sept?

Alicent picks up a candle that hasn’t been lit. “To remember her. You light the candle and… she’ll see it.”

“From where?”

“From one of the Seven heavens.”

“Where’s that?”

“I… do not know.” She stares at the candle like she is trying to light it without moving. “Somewhere far away. My mother is there, too.”

“Oh.” She sounds very sad, so you reach out to grab hold of another unlit candle. “Can I light this one? For Mama?”

That makes her smile just a little. “Of course, Princess.”

Alicent takes one of the lit candles and tilts it into yours, making sure not to spill any of the hot wax on you. You hold very still, because fire is dangerous which means you can get hurt, even though you touched it once and it didn’t feel like anything but warm. The little string at the top catches fire, burning orange and gold and swaying gently.

She lights her own, too. “Now, you place it on the altar, like so.” She carefully sets both candles down and closes her eyes for a moment, and you think she must be thinking of her own mama.

You nudge your candle back to where you took it, watching the flame dance about. I lit a candle for you, Mama, so you can see it. Do you? Do you see me?

Where are you, Mama? When are you coming back?

The candle doesn’t answer. It just sits there, the little fire bobbing about and then finally falling still. All you can hear is the sound of your own breathing. When you are done, Alicent helps you step off the stool, and you leave the Sept with the candles still lit behind you.

Just outside, you find Uncle Daemon waiting for you.

While ’Nyra and Papa are grieving and Papa’s Council are planning and everyone else is doing whatever it is they do away from you, Uncle has been making sure that you are ‘well’ by telling you stories and teaching you more High Valyrian and sitting at the table to watch while you and Brella play with your dolls together. He never stays for a long-long time, but it is still very nice.

“Farewell, Princess.” Alicent lets go of your hand and turns to curtsey to Uncle, who bows his head but says nothing, just stares with a not-exactly-kind look on his face. Then, she leaves, her footsteps fading away and then dropping as she goes down the stairs. You listen until the noise disappears entirely.

Uncle’s brow raises. “What were you doing in the Sept with only Hightower’s daughter for company? Where’s your sister?”

He never calls her by her name. You wonder why, sometimes.

“She took me because ’Nyra is napping again from crying so much, and I was by myself. So, we went to the Sept so I could light a candle for Mama,” you say quietly. “So that she’ll see it and come back.”

At that, he softens. He crouches down so you can see his face more clearly. “She’s not coming back, sweetling. You know that, don’t you?”

“Why not?”

“She…” He grunts. “Do you remember the stories about Aegon the Conqueror, and his sister-wives Visenya and Rhaenys?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

“Right.” He rises, gripping you below your arms and lifting you high so that he can carry you away from the Sept. It makes him uncomfortable, though you don’t know why. “Tell me what happened to Rhaenys.”

“She tried to—to get Dorne to say that Aegon was their King, so she rode Meraxes to them.” Uncle hums approvingly, so you keep going. Your voice wobbles with each step he takes. “But they were angry at her for burning the grass and the trees and the buildings and the people and the sheep and the horses and th—”

“Yes, yes, she lit Dorne aflame.” Uncle rolls his eyes. He bounces you extra hard in his arms so that it feels like you’re about to fall, and you squeal and wrap your arms tight-tight around his neck so that you don’t. “Leave the boring bits out. Tell me the rest.”

“She—Dorne took a big, big arrow and hit Meraxes in the eye, and Rhaenys and Meraxes fell all the way to the ground from up high and died.”

His lips twist at the way you say the last word. “You’ve been paying attention. Good girl.” You’re out in the courtyard now, away from the Sept. It isn’t any louder out here, which is strange, because it is usually always loud and full of people. “Did Rhaenys ever return to Aegon and Visenya?” he asks, moving towards the doors that lead to Maegor’s Holdfast where your rooms are.

“No…” you say, unsure. You don’t think she did. “Why didn’t she go back?”

Uncle sighs, slowing down so he can look at you properly. “That’s what it means to die, sweetling. Rhaenys didn’t go away. When she hit the ground, her body ceased to function. She stopped seeing, feeling, thinking, moving, breathing. She became… nothing.” Your belly twists. You don’t like what he’s telling you, not one bit. Whatever your face is doing, it makes Uncle keep talking. “It’s like your dolls—you can touch them and see them, can’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“But when you speak to them, do they speak back?”

“No.”

“Do they have beating hearts?”

“No.”

“Do they eat or piss or shit?”

You gasp. “That—that’s naughty, kepus!”

He rolls his eyes again. “No, they don’t. They’re things, not people. And your mother… she’s no longer a person. She’s a body; one we must put to rest today.”

The funeral is soon. Uncle has been reminding you lots and lots, and when you asked, he said a funeral is what people go to so they can say goodbye to the person who has died and put their body back where it is meant to go. And because Mama is a Targaryen like you and Uncle and Papa and ’Nyra, her body has to be put on fire so that she can go back to the wind.

She’s not a person anymore. She’s a nothing. It scares you.

You sniffle. “But… I don’t want her to be gone like Rhaenys did. I want her back.”

“I know.” Uncle hugs you then, pulling you so close that your nose gets stuck in all his hair. When you breathe in, all those hairs go up inside your nostrils and make them itch. You hope he never lets go. “I know.”

Put on the dress, then sit in the carriage, then walk up the Hill, then stand quiet. Put on the dress, then sit in the carriage, then walk up the Hill, then stand quiet. Put on the dress, then sit in the carriage, then walk up the Hill, then stand quiet.

You keep saying it over and over in your head, just like Uncle had said. He is the only one who would tell you what is going to happen at the funeral, because he knows that you like to know things even when you’re afraid of them. It makes you feel better, makes you feel a little less scared.

Uncle never told you how many people would be here, though.

Everyone comes to watch you and ’Nyra and Papa and Uncle walk through the Keep to the carriage—the maesters, the maids, the pageboys, the lords and ladies that like to stay in the city—but they stay silent as you pass. You wonder if pressing yourself against the wall and thinking really hard about being made of stone will turn you invisible, which is when you can’t be seen. You wish you could. There are too many gazes on you, and it makes all the hairs on your arms and legs and neck stand up. Uncle has to press you forward when you slow down to look for an escape.

You sit in the carriage beside ’Nyra while Papa and Uncle sit at the front, because Papa is the King and Uncle is his heir. She is very pale, almost blending with her hair except for her red eyes. You slip your hand into hers and she squeezes hard, but you try not to show her that it hurts. She looks less sad holding onto you, so you don’t mind at all that her fingers pinch.

It is the first time in a long time that you have been able to see any of the people outside the walls of the Keep. Before Mama died—before Mama’s belly got too big and she had to stay in bed—she used to take you just beyond the gates to where the really poor commonfolk would line up every sennight on the day of rest to get their alms, which Mama says is an important part of being good. She would say that you have to give coin and food and whatever else the people might need so that they are well and happy, because that means they will support the King’s reign and be peaceful. You don’t know what that means, but Mama is always right.

You miss it—giving people things, letting them pat your cheeks or your hair and calling you the People’s Princess. Because Mama is Queen and giving alms is what the Queen is meant to do, no one else could take you when she stopped going out of her chambers. And, when you went with her, the people were always very loud and cheerful and smiling, and they thanked you with tears in their eyes when Mama let you give them the pouches of coin yourself.

As the carriage takes you through the city today, the commonfolk are quiet.

None of them are smiling, or happy. They watch on as the horses take you through the streets, and some of them even cry when they see the long box that the cart ahead of you is carrying. It is the biggest, nicest box you’ve ever seen, made with dark wood and borders that look like real gold, glinting in the sun. Uncle told you that the box has the bodies inside it, the ones of Mama and baby Baelon.

You think that the people miss Mama very much. Maybe they miss her almost as much as you do—but not the same amount. You think you miss Mama most of all, even more than Papa or ’Nyra, because at least they have Lord Otto or Lord Lyman or Lord Corlys or Alicent or Betha Strong or Ser Harrold to keep them company. All you have is Mama and sometimes Uncle, and now Mama is gone.

After a while, the carriage starts to take you up and up, which means that you are almost at the point where you will need to stop and get out and walk the rest of the way. This is because the horses cannot pull so much weight up Visenya’s Hill. Uncle said it would be hard for you to walk, being so small when the hill is so large, but that you have to so that everyone can see how brave you are. “Targaryens don’t show weakness,” he says.

He is right—the walk is hard. At first, when you get out and take ’Nyra’s hand and start to follow Papa up the hill, it isn’t so bad. But then, it gets steeper and steeper, almost so steep that you feel like you need to use your hands to climb the rest of the way. Your legs burn so much that you want to cry, but you don’t. Uncle said you cannot be carried, either, so you don’t ask ’Nyra to pick you up. You must be brave. You must be brave.

By the time you reach the top, the men who were made to carry the box have opened it up and taken out the things inside. There are two funny-shaped objects covered in brown cloth lying in the middle of the pyre that has been built for the funeral—one is big, bigger than you, while the other is very small. They are the bodies of Mama and Baelon, and you have to hold on tight to the memory of Uncle’s words to keep from running over and trying to shake them awake.

“What remains of them will be set upon the pyre, yes—but remember, they’re not people. They’re just skin and bone and meat now. You must let them burn as all Targaryens burn.”

’Nyra’s hand feels like ice around yours as a man in a strange dress with a hood comes forward, past all the lords and ladies and past Uncle and Papa to stand right in front of the pyre. Two other men wearing dresses that look almost the same go with him, but stay one step behind.

“Tubī Arryno Lentro Dārie Aemme se Targārio Lentro Dārilaros Baelon perzyrty mōrqittot…” he says. You don’t know all the words, but you think he must be talking about the way Mama is a queen and baby Baelon is a prince, which seems silly to mention now that they’re not real anymore. “Sȳndor zijosy rēbarose, Dāria Aemma eglio ilvot trēso Dārilaros Baelon zȳhos gūros se tegot…”

Syrax is standing on the very top of the hill above everyone else. Because it would be very rude to look around at the others—Papa’s Councilmen and Alicent and the men who live on Dragonstone, your family’s special home, and Princess Rhaenys too, who is very scary, as well as so so many people you don’t know at all—you keep your eyes fixed on the dragon, admiring how pretty she looks in the sun. Usually, she makes lots of noise and is very mischievous, which is another word for naughty, but today she is quiet like all the rest. You wonder how she knows about funerals when she cannot speak in Valyrian or the Common Tongue or any other words that people can understand.

“Targārio ānogro rȳ ōrbrar ojāris, sētenondi hen ībī iemnȳ nȳmas,” the man says. His dress has what looks like an eye sewn on the chest, which seems an odd thing to want to wear. No one else in the Keep wears eyes.

The two men behind him step up with jugs in their hands, and they walk around the pyre pouring what is in the jugs over the cloth. It turns the brown even darker brown. After they bow, they move back, and no one speaks for a while.

Finally, the man with the eye on his chest says one last thing. “Hen perzȳ sīdas. Va perzȳ āmāzissi. Hen prānot istas, vapār drējī mōrī iksis.”

Something about fire, you think. Maybe he is saying your House words in High Valyrian. Fire and blood.

It is silent then, nothing but the sound of the wind whistling filling your ears. Everyone is still, from the lady with the kind eyes that remind you of your own on the other side of the pyre to the funny men to the side. No one speaks. You wonder what is supposed to happen now.

Uncle puts his hand on your shoulder, leaning in to whisper in ’Nyra’s ear. “They’re waiting for you.”

At first, you think she hasn’t heard him—she doesn’t move or do anything at all, just keeps staring where Mama and baby Baelon are. You nearly jump when her fingers tighten on yours. “Ñurho valonqro paghyro jēdunna, lo tolijī kepa ñuha kirimvī rhēdos pendan.”

My brother lived, father found happy. It makes no sense, but Mama told you once that it is rude to listen to other people’s conversations, so you try not to listen too hard.

Uncle speaks too low for you to hear him, to which ’Nyra replies with something you do understand. “Trēsy dōrī kesan.” I will never be a son.

She sounds very, very sad. Poor ’Nyra, you think. I will never be a son, either. I’m just a daughter, a girl, like you. Maybe Papa would be happier if ’Nyra or you had died instead of Baelon, if your body was wrapped in the brown cloth on the pyre and you weren’t real anymore.

’Nyra lets go of you. She looks to Papa, but all he is doing is staring at the pyre where Mama and Baelon lie. Her face is very red, which means she has been crying. When she steps forward, Uncle takes your hand and pulls you back to stop you following her. He is warm, so you try to hug onto his leg in a way that doesn’t make you weak like he told you not to be.

Syrax makes her chirping noise, all of a sudden paying attention to what her rider is doing. ’Nyra tries to speak, but it doesn’t come out. “Dr…”

She looks at Papa again, so you do too. He still hasn’t looked away from the pyre. You wonder if he knows you and ’Nyra and Uncle are even here, because he hasn’t so much as glanced at you since the night he came to your rooms and told you that Mama and Baelon had died. Not once.

“Drakarys.”

Syrax rumbles, and then begins to climb down toward all the people. For a moment, you’re worried she might try to eat someone, but the Dragonkeepers are here with their spears to stop anything bad happening. She opens her mouth, and fire comes bursting out.

The pyre lights up, and Mama and Baelon disappear in bright-white-orange.

“Mama?” you whisper, eyes stinging and throat feeling strange, like you want to be sick but not. “Mama?”

The only thing that you can hear is the sound of burning.

Papa bends his head, and ’Nyra looks away. You think that you may be the only one who keeps watching the fire as it takes your Mama away from you forever.

(When you are grown, you will not remember this day. You will not remember the ache in your bones or the wind in your hair. You will not remember the faces of the commonfolk you passed along the way, or the sorrow in Rhaenyra’s voice when she called down dragonfire upon the hill. You will not remember the cold that leached into your blood as you stood beside what was left of your family, a slow freezing that will take its toll over the days and moons and years of your existence.

Even so, the sight of the bodies on the pyre and the smell of burning flesh will remain etched into the very fabric of your person forevermore.

At night, you will sometimes feel as though ash clings to your tongue, the taste of rot lingering in your mouth. In dreams, you will see brown cloth and a faceless babe wiggling beneath wrappings as it burns to nothing. You will wake in a panic, near to choking on the air you cannot seem to make yourself breathe, looking about wildly in search of the horrors that had plagued your slumbering thoughts. Melancholy will follow you, lurking just beyond reach, haunting, nameless.

But you will not remember this day.)

After the funeral, Uncle Daemon leaves.

You don’t know why, because he didn’t say goodbye and no one will tell you anything. When you ask ’Nyra, she tells you she doesn’t “want to talk about him” and walks away with Alicent. You ask Brella, but she just says, “Not right now, Princess.”

You don’t ask Papa, because he is still grieving for Mama and baby Baelon. For you, that means he doesn’t want to tell you about anything at all. But whenever someone says Uncle’s name in front of him, he gets very, very angry and storms off with his boots making a lot of noise on the ground, so Uncle must have done something very naughty.

A big ceremony is happening today, though, which makes it harder to be sad that Uncle isn’t here. ’Nyra told you that Papa has decided to make her the heir, even though Uncle is supposed to be. Maybe that is why he left. It has been very busy in the Keep because everyone came for Mama and Baelon’s funeral, but they are being made to stay for the ceremony so that they can swear fealty to Papa and ’Nyra. And, for the first time ever, you have a special role, too.

“… promise to be—to be faith–faithful to King Viserys and his named heir, the Princess Rhae-nyra. I pledge fealty to them and shall def—defend them against all e-ne-mies in good faith and without de-ceit. I sw–swear this by the Old Gods and the New.”

Alicent claps, smiling. “Well done, Princess! Much better!”

’Nyra comes out from behind her screen wearing a pretty red dress, like the colour of the dragon with three heads on your House sigil. “Just try not to stutter so much, little sister.”

“Trying,” you say grumpily—the words are hard—but ’Nyra isn’t paying attention. Instead, she is looking into the mirror as Alicent helps her with the laces at the back, staring at herself in a way that doesn’t look very happy.

Alicent stops and hugs her. “You will be fine. This is what you were born for.”

“I wasn’t, though,” ’Nyra says, frowning. “Was I?”

They both go quiet, so you say, “You look very nice today.”

That makes ’Nyra smile, finally. “Thank you.”

It doesn’t take long for Alicent to finish lacing up her dress and helping her with her gold cape and jewels. When she is done, ’Nyra leaves the room and Alicent moves toward you so she can take your hand. “Come, Princess,” she says. “Let us walk to the Great Hall together.”

When you get there, the room is full of people. You wonder if every single lord and lady in the whole of Papa’s kingdom is here, all together in this one place. It is only because you are a princess that you don’t have to stand with all of them, and Alicent leads you over to Ser Harrold so that you can stay next to him by the Iron Throne. There is even a little chair just for you there, in case your legs get tired.

“Princess,” Ser Harrold says. His voice is funny, like a growl, and it makes you giggle every time you hear it. And, every time you giggle, he smiles, which makes all the wrinkles on his face deeper, which is even funnier. He does it again now.

A big bang at the door has everyone go very quiet.

“Presenting—Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen!”

No one speaks when ’Nyra comes through the doors all by herself, chin lifted straight up and walking down the middle of the two groups of people. Everyone stares at her, even Papa, and you think that it’s only right that they do because she looks so so pretty today. She curtseys to Papa at the bottom of the Throne, and then turns to face the people.

Without a word, Lord Corlys comes forward and kneels. “I, Corlys Velaryon, Lord of the Tides and Master of Driftmark, promise to be faithful to King Viserys and his named…”

You decide to sit in the chair while you wait. All the lords here have to say the same words you do when they pledge fealty, but you are going last because you’re the most important person to say it, which is what Alicent told you.

Lots of men and some ladies come up to the front to kneel and say the words to ’Nyra while Papa watches. It takes a long time, so you spend it looking around at all the different faces and dresses and coats that you can see. There are all sorts of things sewn onto the chests of people’s robes—you see a black stag on a yellow coat, a yellow lion on a red one, a grey wolf on a white one, a flower, a bird, even some boring ones like plain stripes or dots. Some of the ladies are wearing dresses that look very strange—the neck comes far far down so you can almost see some parts that are not proper for a lady to show. When those ones say the words, most of them are actually saying them while looking at Papa instead of ’Nyra, which is very rude because today is all about ’Nyra and not Papa. No one tries to make them stop, though, so maybe only you notice it.

When it is your turn, Ser Harrold taps you on the shoulder. All of a sudden, you feel very scared. So many people are looking at you now, and it makes you feel small and weak like you’re going to be smacked if you do anything.

But you must be brave. If Uncle were here, you’d want him to be proud of you.

You kneel in front of ’Nyra a little closer than everyone else did, but you think that no one will mind very much because you are her sister. Besides, your legs are feeling very shaky, and you might fall over if you have to go any further.

For a moment, the words won’t come out and you panic, but ’Nyra smiles. It is the only smile she has shown the whole time, and it’s just for you.

You find the words.

“I promise to be faith-ful to King Viserys and his named heir, the Princess Rhaenyra. I pledge fealty to them and shall defend them against all e-ne-mies in good faith and without… deceit. I swear this by the Old Gods and the New.”

You rise up, feeling like water is rushing in your ears, almost like it does whenever you have to take a bath. A sound like a heartbeat is all you can hear as you walk back to your spot, but you don’t sit down. ’Nyra said that you have to stay standing for the final part, the words that Papa has to say.

Your sister turns around to face the Iron Throne and bends her head to Papa. He says nothing.

Then, Papa stands, his sword Blackfyre in his hand and pointing down into the ground. “I, Viserys Targaryen, First of his Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm”—so many titles go after his name, you think, glad that you only have ‘the People’s Princess’ after yours—“do hereby name Rhaenyra Targaryen Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne.”

Everyone bows their heads, so you do, too. When ’Nyra turns around, all the lords and ladies and knights and guards clap.

Beyond the noise in the hall, you think you can hear a dragon roar.

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delfiore · 10 months

Text

—A SUMMER’S TALE.

pairing: vada cavell x reader

synopsis: the summer before college, vada joins mia's family on vacation in france and falls in love with the scenery, and a charismatic lifeguard.

word count: 9.6k

warnings: talk of the shooting

a/n: it's summer so you know my cmbyn flare ups are happening. i’ve been writing this for a few weeks now and i’m super pumped it’s done. pls let me now what you like, what you don’t like about this! i’d really appreciate some feedback!! and i’m sorry if i can’t reply to you if you comment on this as this acc is a secondary blog

The villa had one feature that stood out in particular—a hallway that ran through the base of the house, connecting the kitchen to the open grass area in the back. Even the tiniest gust of wind could collect into a large breeze to combat the sticky heat of the day.

Vada closed her eyes and lifted her arms by her side as she felt the breeze glide through her. She could smell an earthy, hay-like smell of flowers that had been bathing in sunlight wafting in from the garden behind the villa. It didn’t take much to notice; summer in southern France was in full swing.

I could live here, she thought. Four weeks of this? Away from the repetitive scenery of the American suburbs, away from expectations. Only a few minutes since she’s gotten off the car and seen the yellow walls and red bricks of the Mediterranean villa, and she’s been buzzing ever since. She’s never actually left the country before, and the long flight over was jarring, to say the least. But the beauty of what she saw as soon as she landed made up for it.

Mia had instructed her to come along upstairs to put her things away; Vada would be occupying the guest room next to hers. She swore her friendship with Mia Reed started because they both went through a traumatic thing together, but it was moments like these when she was grateful for the perks.

“I could use a nap,” Mia said, rubbing her face.

It was nearly nine in the morning when the girls finished unpacking. Mia’s parents had given them the morning to get settled and get used to the jet lag.

“I’m not too tired,” Vada said, “maybe I’ll go into town for the morning.”

“You sure you don’t need me to come with you?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fun. It’s about time I put my four years of high school French to the test.”

The road into town winded downhill, and she was grateful she used one of the bikes the Reeds had available at their villa, as she would have dreaded the trek back up, had she gone on foot. She mapped out exactly the way into the town square and was determined to check everything out before returning for lunch. Thank god for Google Maps.

She had also bought a paper map of the town in a nearby kiosk and, after nearly two hours of exploring, mapped out a general layout of notable places in town. There was a fountain in the middle of the square in front of a church that Vada would use as a reference for everything; from the Fountain facing the church going left would be the town hall and that little kiosk, going right would be the local post office and the way back to the villa, opposite the church facing ahead lead down a slanted cobblestone alley full of restaurants and gift shops, as well as the way to the beach.

It must have been in the high 80s (30s Celsius) that day, so Vada decided to reward herself with some ice cream in the town square before she headed back. It was so hot that when sitting on a bench in the shades, she still had to try and keep the ice cream from melting all over her lap.

“Lillian’s ice cream is nice, but it melts quickly. You should try Karim’s down the street.”

Vada looked up at the voice in surprise, as it was English that was being spoken to her.

“Oh, totally!” She replied quickly. “How did you know I speak English?”

“I haven’t seen you around here.”

“But I could have also known French, right?”

“Touché, but I also recognize a compatriot when I see one.”

You wore an oversized white button-up that barely skirted past your black shorts, and your flip-flops indicated that you might have had a better idea of what the weather was going to be like as opposed to her in her high-neck basketball shoes. Peaking out from between the hem of your shirt was a necklace in the shape of a hummingbird, dangling and reflected in the sun.

“That obvious, huh?”

“Maybe a little." You grinned and shook your head from side to side. "Only tourists go to Lillian for ice cream.”

“So you’re not one, I assume.”

“I wouldn’t say so, no. My family has been coming here every summer ever since I was eight. These people are probably sick of me by now.” You chuckled.

This is your time, Vada, be smooth. “Lucky for you, you’ll have someone new to entertain.” She grinned and pointed at herself.

. . . Adequate.

The melodic laugh that escaped you gave her a new-found confidence, and she decided that it was to be her new favorite sound.

“Alright, since you seem to know the area so well,” Vada said. “What’s fun to do around here?”

Conversation flowed so easily between the two of you, she had almost forgotten that she only met you 15 minutes ago. Granted, you were also easy on the eye, and Vada would always remember the way the water from the fountain reflected in waves across your skin.

At one point she had started talking about the time her family got stranded in the middle of nowhere on a road trip to Phoenix. Vada felt like she was talking too much, but the way you laughed along with her story made her feel like it wasn’t for naught.

The bell tower of the church rang throughout the square. Vada widened her eyes and checked her phone, it was noon.

"Shit, I have to get back. My host family's gonna wonder where I am." She stood up quickly and collected her bike. The height of the seat and her haste caused her to stumble, and she would have fallen if not for you grabbing her by the arm and holding her up.

"Oh, okay. I’m sure there’s a story about a daytime Cinderella somewhere.”

She looked up and you were smirking. "Vada," she said. Maybe she shouldn’t have told you, Cinderella was fine, you didn’t know each other.

She could barely make out your attempt at her name on your lips before you nodded.

“Y/N.” You held your hand out for her to take. There was that touch that changed the course of her summer, the one touch that set into motion a journey toward a certain feeling that Vada had never felt before.

"Bye, Y/N!" She called behind her before rounding the corner, past the post office, and back to the Reed villa.

Mia had been waiting by the front door and breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted Vada cycling uphill.

"Where the hell have you been? We thought you'd been kidnapped!"

"Wait, could you get kidnapped here?" Vada’s face dropped at the thought, even though she was positively out of breath.

"You could get kidnapped anywhere, V."

"Well, I got lost." She hopped off her bike and set it by the entrance. "My phone died so I couldn't use Maps."

Her friend rolled her eyes and led her inside where a hearty lunch awaited. It was mid-June and apricots were in season for dessert.

It wasn't until late afternoon the next day that Vada regained the energy to go outside again. The jet lag had finally caught on, and she spent the morning asleep until noon. Mia had suggested going to the beach, which was great because she could see how things were, and either get into the water or take another nap.

Mia—being Mia—wore her bathing suit and a thin cardigan as her attire, while Vada decided on wearing an oversized tee and shorts over her bathing suit.

"Don't freak out. I've invited some friends. Just kids from the area," said Mia, once they arrived at the beach.

Vada stayed back, as Mia was greeted by several people similar in age to her, speaking in French at a pace her high school education couldn’t help her understand.

“This is Vada, she’s a friend from home.”

A curly-headed boy stood up from his lounge chair and sauntered over to give Mia a kiss on each cheek, then looked over to Vada and did the same. “Corentin, but please call me Coco,” he said and took both their bags. Vada didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on Mia’s form a bit longer than normal.

“Come, Vada! Mia, where have you been hiding this one? I’m Marlène. This is Sasha.” The brunette pulled her by the hand and gestured to the boy sitting next to her. He was slender with blonde hair part in the middle. “We’re about to go into the water if you want to join.”

“Where’s Noémie?” asked Mia.

“Déjà à l’eau. No doubt to show off to the lifeguard.” Sasha snickered, nodding his head towards the water. He took another drag from his cigarette and rested his arm back against Marlène’s chair.

“Speaking of the lifeguard . . .” Vada followed Marlène’s gaze towards . . . you.

Her mouth hung open as she watched you, in red shorts and a white T-shirt, a whistle hanging from your neck. You pulled your sunglasses up to your head and gave Mia la bise.

Of course, she thought. She had hoped to see you again, but only when there was no one else around, and that you’d catch her by surprise when she was alone once more. She’d only met you, but she wished that she could have you all alone, not like a secret, but like a prized possession.

“And just how many people have died while you’re on watch?” Mia teased.

“Zero, but very soon,” you pointed at her, “one.”

When you turned to Vada, her breath hitched. “Hi,” you greeted with that warm smile again. Even in your work attire, she spotted that necklace next to your whistle.

“Y/N, this is—”

“Vada, the daytime Cinderella. We met yesterday in the square.” You replied. “Did I forget to mention I work here?”

Vada was grinning like an idiot, her cheeks tinted pink at the nickname. “Yup, you did.”

“Y/N!” Over jogged a gorgeous girl, even Vada had to admit. Her black bathing suit hugged her curves perfectly, and though her hair was completely wet, the water droplets clinging to her olive skin made her glow. “T'as prévu aller en boîte ce week-end, ou bien? J'ai chopé l'info qu'y a un nouveau DJ en ville, et il envoie du pâté!”

She was clinging onto your arm, and speaking way too fast for Vada to understand, but she picked up on some keywords: ce week-end, and nouveau DJ.

When she finally noticed Vada there, her excitement subsided, but she walked over anyway to greet her, like an afterthought. “Salut. I’m Noémie.”

“Hi. Vada.”

Just as quickly as you arrived, Noémie had led you away, talking your ear off about something that Vada didn’t have the heart to eavesdrop on. Her eyes followed your form, picking up on the way you kept your arms by your side even when Noémie was practically hanging off of you. In a sporadic moment, Vada thought she saw you looking back over her shoulder at the friend group, and maybe toward her.

“Your phone died, huh?” Mia poked her elbow into her side with a teasing grin.

“Shut up,” Vada murmured. “What’s the deal with them anyway?”

“They were together last summer,” Sasha replied, then turned to the others. “Plan cul, how do you say?”

“A fling, but Noémie seems more attached than Y/N ever did,” said Coco.

“No doubt Y/N has already found a new paramour for the summer,” Marlène commented.

“It’s summertime. Anything’s possible.”

As much as she hated it, you plagued her mind, much more than she cared to admit. She didn’t want to think about what your initial conversation meant to you (if it did at all), or what the lack of words in your second meeting meant. She didn’t want to think about Noémie either, how she seemed so confident to get your attention, and an up-and-down look from her made Vada want to crawl into a hole.

She remembered the handshake. The speed at which she rode away wasn’t entirely to get home in time before Mia’s parents called the police, but to get away from the butterflies that burst in her stomach that moment her hand firmly shook yours. She’d seen how you greeted your friends, but to her, she offered a handshake. Though the gesture itself was completely platonic and can be passed off as a farewell between two strangers, she felt a sense of exclusivity, that American camaraderie you shared with her in a foreign land. Common courtesy as a mode of intimacy. Revisiting it now, Vada recognized it as a sign of attraction and an apprehension to the speed at which it enveloped her.

She would see you around town in your work uniform after your shift, sometimes you’d be talking to people, sometimes you were the buyer yourself. No matter the person though—from the tourists asking for directions to the old owner of the bookstore by the fountain, they always loved you and talked to you like you were their best friend. She’d see you from afar, wanting to talk to you, but then get anxious the moment you spotted her a give her a friendly wave.

Then there were times when you would come by the Reed villa. Philip and Andre always received you like you were an esteemed guest, gifting you fruits from the trees in the backyard. She loved to see how you acted around different people, and to the Reeds who had known you for years, you were awful shy.

“Invite your parents over. We should all have dinner sometime!”

“Oh, my parents aren’t here this summer. My dad’s busy with a conference in Singapore, but they’ll drop by at the end of July.”

Even the times you were invited to stay for supper, it was clear you knew how to hold a conversation over the dinner table. She wondered if you were studying to be a politician because you seemed to charm everyone and had the best manners. Mia would not-so-subtly yield the spot next to you for Vada, and secretly, she was glad to be sitting next to you.

For the first time in her life, she felt a force holding her back, preventing her from reaching out. Maybe it was because she had only known you for a couple of weeks but felt like you’d always been there, like a puzzle finally piecing together.

And every time, right before you left, after you had said goodbye to the Reeds, you’d find her somehow. “Bye,” would be all you said with an adoring smile, but Vada would be thinking about it until the next day.

She and Mia met up with the group again one night, this time at a nearby open-air disco. When she arrived, she could spot Sasha and Marlène already twirling each other around on the dance floor, she was laughing as he spun her around, cigarette between his lips. She felt a pang of envy, imagining that it was your arms around her waist instead as you spun her around without a care in the world, in front of everyone. Let them see. Let them see that you’re mine and I’m yours. If she were being honest, she only agreed to come just so she could see you again. She found you sitting at a table with Coco and Noémie, chatting away.

“Hi.” Her attention was focused on you. She couldn’t be more sober, and she wished she had taken a few puffs before coming.

As if having read her mind, Coco pulled out a couple of joints, lighting one and taking a puff himself before passing it to Noémie.

“You partake?” You shouted over the loud music.

“Oh, she partakes.” Mia nodded enthusiastically. “The first time she did weed she smoked most of my joint. Then proceeded to blabber on nonstop for two hours.”

You let out a laugh. “I like this one!”

She hated, despised even, the overwhelming feeling of wanting to be near you, to impress you, to feel special in your eyes as you were in hers. It was human nature; everyone liked feeling special, but somehow getting validation from you would make her ten times happier. She sat two seats away from you—next to Mia and Noémie—and once in a while, she would try and dart her eyes over to look at you ever so subtly. On a couple of occasions, her heart would jump when she noticed you were already looking back.

A few minutes later, Vada started to feel the effect of the weed, and Mia must have too because she pulled her toward the dance floor. Looking back, she saw you talking to Noémie. You didn’t look too happy and neither did she, having her arms crossed in front of her chest. Then, she walked outside and you followed her impatiently. When you returned, a polite smile was on your face when you noticed her looking for you.

“Are you okay?” She shouted, the weed had made her feel bold.

“Yeah! Everything’s fine.” You shouted back.

It might have been the weed or it was something that’s already been there, but Vada couldn’t take her eyes off of you. She took you by the hand, and there was that same spark of electricity again. You let her guide you, your hands never leaving hers as you moved with her.

It was about a quarter to midnight when everyone decided to split because frankly, everyone was too tired to continue. Vada said goodbye to Sasha and Marlène, the latter of whom gave her a big hug and repeatedly expressed her delight that Vada had decided to join them. Coco, already sober, offered to drive Mia home, but his ride was a scooter.

“Sorry, les gars,” Coco smiled sheepishly and asked Mia if she was ready, to which the girl only nodded.

“I’ll walk you home.” You said quietly, surprisingly timid. “Promise me you won’t turn into a pumpkin at midnight?”

She huffed through her nose and gave you a shove, but she was grinning. It was just the two of you now. Her pride was on the line, and so was her heart.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Your voice cut through the stillness of the night. Before that, the only sounds were that of your shoes brushing against the ground and the soft sighs of the ocean.

“Is everything okay with Noémie?”

You averted your eyes, your hand coming up to play with the hummingbird on your neck.

Maybe she shouldn’t have. “Shit, did I overstep?”

“No, no. It’s fine. It’s just Noë being Noë, she was out of line.” Your walls were up. “We were always close, she was the first friend I made here. And last summer we slept together.”

“Oh.” Her steps faltered.

“I stopped it before it could progress into anything beyond that, though. I’m just not ready.”

Vada nodded slowly. Loud and clear. Maybe that was the signal she needed, the insecure part of her thought it was that, but when she was with you, all she wanted to do was listen to the other part.

“I slept with Mia once, sophomore year.”

You looked over at her, seemingly surprised. “Mia? Huh. Never would have thought.”

“It was just that, though.” She flashed you a smile.

Vada felt that surge of closeness between you, your arm swinging beside her as you walked. The obsession with finding anything to relate to you prompted her to say it, like Hey, I’m like you, I know how you feel. Maybe it wasn’t the best thing to tell you, she might have screwed up.

You mirrored her smile, but something about it told her that your heart wasn’t entirely in it. Tell me what you’re thinking, Y/N. She wanted to get inside your head and know everything you were thinking, to go all the way with that closeness. Even as friends, one has to start from somewhere.

It was radio silence from you for the next few days. Vada came up with all the excuses as to what it could have been, and when she grew tired and angry at herself for thinking so much about you, she tried to distract herself by doing other things. She helped Philip collect figs from the trees in the backyard; she looked up the fortress nearby you told her about the day you met and biked all the way over there, even though it was a half an hour's ride each way; she finally took out the book she packed with her and began reading it whilst sunbathing. It was starting to feel like a summer that she should be enjoying.

Her mom called and was happy to hear that her daughter was going outside and doing fun things. “The people are nice,” Vada would say, “I met some of Mia’s friends.” And in true Mom fashion, her mom would quickly squeeze in a “Don’t do drugs and use protection” to which she ended the call and almost threw her phone across the room.

She would also call Nick every other day. I met someone, she said one day after having finally gathered the courage to vocalize her crush. Girl, I know. Mia had told him. When? Literally the second day. She said you were so obvious.

It was as if the weather knew too. It started raining all day when she decided to go to the beach one day, souring her mood entirely. She would sit by the entrance in the backyard watching the rain, and sure enough, she was thinking about what you were doing on the opposite end of town.

“It’s unlike you to be so hung up on someone,” Mia told her when they were hanging out in Mia’s room.

“I’m not hung up on someone,” her words trailed at the end, mindlessly flipping through the magazine in front of her.

“So am I just crazy for thinking that you want to pounce on Y/N every three seconds?”

“Okay, but what about you and Coco? He follows you around everywhere like a lost puppy.”

“Coco’s just shy,” her friend blushed. “And stop changing the subject.”

“There’s nothing between us, at least not yet.”

“So you do want something to happen.”

“Shut up! Mia!” She hid her face behind her hands and writhed on Mia’s bed in embarrassment. “I’m not talking to you about this anymore.”

“Alright, alright,” Mia held her hands up as her laughter subsided.

“Look, I just want to—” Vada took a moment. “I want to test the waters, okay? Y/N is special, and I don’t want to ruin anything.”

Mia nodded, understanding. “I just don’t want you to be misled. I mean, you’ve seen how it was with Noémie.”

“I know.” Vada smiled softly. “I know what I’m getting into. Zero expectations.”

She wanted to believe what she told Mia too, but then when she saw texts from you the next day, there was no hiding that a connection was what she so tirelessly wanted, and needed.

hey it’s y/n Sent 3:23pm

mia gave me your number, i hope you don’t mind Sent 3:23pm

call me when you see this? Sent 3:24pm

Damn you, Mia, but also, thank you.

She didn’t work up enough courage to call you until later that night. Of course, it could have been something dire, but then you would have called her first, right? I am such a wimp.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” she rubbed her hands against her shorts. “it’s Vada. You wanted me to call you?”

“Yeah. I was gonna just text you, but I don’t know . . .” You hesitated for a moment. “Anyway, you ever been to Antibes?”

“No, why?”

“Well, I’m going there on Friday for my apprenticeship, and I was wondering if you wanted to come with? I’m just giving some manuscripts to my mentor, and then leaving them with him for a few hours to review, so we can make a fun day out of it. It’s a one-hour drive, so I don’t plan on staying overnight.”

“Friday you said?” Vada took a deep breath to still her racing heart. “I don’t think I got anything better to do that day.”

“Great!” You said. “I’ll pick you up at 9am?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Cool, see you then!”

There was something frightening about when things go exactly how you wanted them. It was inch-perfect, the puzzle pieces just slotted in place as if they were always fated to be. You were the first to reach out; she thought it would be easier that way, she’d just have to take your hand and come along. But there was a certain apprehension that Vada had as if she was walking straight into the lion’s den like a deer blinded by hunger. What if she loses her heart? She was aware of the dangers of heartbreak, of course—she was no fool—but the thought of giving her heart to you, then watching you walk away with it like an unwanted gift was too devastating.

Mia was practically bouncing off the walls when Vada told her about the phone call, saying that in all seven years of knowing you, she had never been special enough to receive a call. She didn’t exactly say the latter part, but she all but implied it.

On Friday morning, Vada woke up earlier than usual, made herself some breakfast, and was already waiting at the door with a backpack by 8:45. No later than 9:05, you arrived with a Volkswagen Golf, sunglasses on, and a bright smile.

“Music?” You offered, turning on Bluetooth. “Also, if you need a pee break, please tell me. Bladders can be untimely.”

“Noted,” Vada giggled.

The car ride was mostly silent, aside from the music you let her pick and the fun facts you enlightened her with about some of the landmarks you drive past.

“That one I believe was built in the later 1600s and owned by a minor Provence viscount. It was also in a strategic location for the military until it was abandoned after the French Revolution. Also, the viscount built the castle for his second wife, but she died shortly after giving birth to their child.”

“That’s a little sad,” said Vada.

“She was also 14 when she died and he was in his 50s.”

Vada grimaced. “Maybe death was a sweet relief.”

“Yeah. It was more common back in the day than you think.”

“How do you know all this?” She brought her legs up against her chest.

“I like history. I like to learn about the areas I’m in, and in the time that I’ve been here, I’ve had a lot of opportunities to learn.”

She watched your side profile for a moment. “You mentioned some manuscripts. What is it for?”

“Is this an interview now?” You laughed and glanced over at her, and she looked down with a blush. “It’s for my bachelor’s thesis. Technically I don’t start writing until next year, but I like to practice whenever I can. This one that I’m giving to my mentor is a collection of essays.”

“Can I read them?” You looked over for a moment, then reached behind you to grab a file of paper and handed it to her.

Vada settled back and opened the first pages, and read in silence. She could feel you spare short glances at her from time to time, nervously watching for her reaction, but she was so engrossed in your writing it almost didn’t matter that you were sitting next to her. This might have been what it feels like to peer into someone’s soul, to see the traces of fresh blood as they lay their heart onto paper.

It was a beautiful sunny day, the waters shone a deep turquoise, and the French Riviera looked glorious as ever. And yet, she could only get lost in your words.

“This is beautiful,” Vada breathed, setting the papers down on her lap. “You’re amazing.”

You looked ahead at the road, eyes covered by shades, but your large grin was unmissable.

You parked the car on the side of the street in front of several apartment buildings. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back.” Vada only nodded and watched you cross the street with the manuscripts in your hand. She liked how it felt between you two, and she would gladly accompany you on every trip until you were sick of her.

Mere minutes later, you returned. “I hope you’re ready for the best adventure of your life.”

Only, she knew it would be.

You first led her to the market in the vieille ville, where you bought some fruits and snacks for the way. Vada also got to witness firsthand your bargaining skills, asking for a price and then pretending to walk away until the vendor becomes desperate enough to settle. “I used to be really bad at this, but then I watched my mom do it, and now I kind of just do. These vendors hike up their prices for tourists like crazy.” You walked away proudly with a bag of food.

As the both of you walked through the picturesque alleys and streets, you proceeded to tell her more about the city and its history. She listened carefully, hanging onto every word that left your lips. You told her about how Antibes was first named Antipolis and part of Ancient Greece before it was built by the Romans in the time of Julius Caesar; how in the Middle Ages the city fell under the fiefdom of the Grimaldi family, the main branch of which is now royalty of Monaco.

“Sorry, you gotta stop me before I go on a tangent,” you chuckled, scratching the back of your neck. “I’ve been talking for ages.”

“No, I like it.” She said quickly. “I like listening to you talk. It’s no surprise many artists were so taken with this place.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

“Hemingway, Picasso, and Monet all had a fascination with this city.” She had to look that up, but you didn’t need to know that.

“That’s right,” you nodded. “In fact, I’ll show you the spot where Monet painted one of his paintings later.”

After lunch, you both walked along the city walls that looked out to the beach.

“I’m just saying, Ratatouille piqued a lot of interest in the dish, and it wasn’t a coincidence. I mean, I’ve never tried it but I’d love to, just because it looked so good in the movie.” Vada said.

“You’ve never had ratatouille?!” You exclaimed loudly making Vada laugh. “Man, it’s a staple here in southern France! I’ll have to make you some because that is just criminal.”

“Okay, Chef Remy. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Actually, I’ll make a whole batch for you and the Reeds too. They always give me fruits from their backyard,” you said. “How did you meet Mia anyway?”

At the question, Vada’s smile collapsed into a frown. “Um . . .” You watched her, a confused look on your face. “I’ve always known who she was. I mean, it’s Mia, you know? But one day we met officially in the bathroom at school.”

“Oh,” you voiced. You must be confused as to why that was so hard to squeeze out, but the latter part, the part she kept hidden, she had been trying to squeeze out for two years.

“We were in the bathroom while there was a shooting going on.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but you only ended up watching her. Then, a moment later, “I didn’t mean to . . .”

“No, it’s fine.” Vada shook her head. “You didn’t know.”

“I’m so sorry. You don’t have to tell me anything else if you don’t want to.” Your eyes softened and you looked like you had kicked a puppy.

“I know,” she said, taking a breath.

“I see it on the news all the time, but I can’t imagine what it’s like to be there,” you said quietly. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”

Vada hated having to talk about it. If she could have it her way, she would bury it deep down so it never sees the light of day again. Still, she has to talk about it to her friends, her family, her therapist sometimes. She hated talking about it because she’d have to see the way people’s faces contort uncomfortably as they scramble to find consoling words to say. They don’t make her feel any better, and she never liked people seeing that broken side of her reflected back at them.

But when she looked at you right now, there wasn’t a trace of ego in the way that you look back at her. Deep down, she had always wanted to lay it on you, to give you a piece of her, not because she had to, but because she wanted to.

Because she wanted you to see it.

Vada found your hand by your side, soft and comforting. She kept her eyes on them; her hand and your hand, intertwined together. You embraced it and rubbed the back of her hand with your thumb before kissing it. A kiss of friendship, a kiss of love, a kiss of two young people in a city far from home together who had only just met. A kiss that said I see you, I hear you, you’ve got me around your corner.

“You wanna go grab some dinner?” She asked.

Dinner turned into even more talk. Towards late afternoon, you said you wanted to catch the sunset before going to the spot you claimed Monet painted the city. It was a quick drive, but you pumped your fists in the air when you got out of the car and were happy with how the sun rolled over the city just right.

“Come on, you’re gonna miss it!” You jogged towards the edge of the water, beaming like a little kid. It had become natural between the two of you to share skin-ship.

Behind the trees, there it was. Across the blue water, Antibes basked in the last few rays of sunlight in stoic tranquility, just as Monet had seen it. Perhaps she was in one of Monet’s paintings, frozen in time, stuck with you.

She found your hand again, your left this time, and once again your gaze followed, but this time, you trailed your gaze to her eyes. God help me, she thought.

There were so many things Vada wanted to blurt out, and she was close to it. Holding back was never her strong suit, but once she got a good look at the depth of your eyes, she felt that they were better appreciated in silence. Words don’t do anything but snitch on you anyway.

She didn’t need to, because the moment she turned to look at you, she felt you grab her face gently and lay the softest kiss on her lips.

The sun continued to glare, yet Antibes stared on.

Did Monet ever paint lovers?

Liar.

Vada felt like she’d make a mistake for giving in to it. She saw her younger self in the square that day, by the fountain, eating ice cream. She saw you talking to her, and she wanted to scream and tell herself to stop, to save herself the heartache. No one else was to blame, not even you, only her.

Antibes was a week ago, and she hasn’t really spoken to you ever since. She replayed the kiss over and over in her head, trying to pinpoint exactly the moment when you decided that keeping your distance would be the best course of action.

But then she remembered the way you acted alone with her was much different than how you were with the others around. She saw the way your eyes linger on her when you thought she was admiring the sea. She noticed the way you smiled bashfully when she brought up how good your essays were in front of your mentor. She remembered how you never let go of her hand when she grabbed it while you watched the sunset.

Marlène and Sasha had been a big help in getting her out of her slump. Mia was there to cuddle with her the first couple of nights after Vada told her everything, but rendezvous with Coco had kept her busy. But Marlène and Sasha were cool, and probably one of the healthiest couples she’s ever seen at the age of 20. She felt like their adoptive child hanging out with them, especially when Sasha would greet her by endearingly calling her Petit Vada.

“And have you talked to her?” Marlène asked, leaning over the lounge chair. She and Vada had been sunbathing and swimming at the Reed villa that afternoon.

“No.” Vada sighed. “It’s just—I just don’t get it! Why does she have to be so mysterious all the time? Like one moment we would be fine, and the next she’s somewhere else, someone else entirely.”

“That’s Y/N,” Marlène chuckled and took a sip from her margarita. “You know, when I and Sash first got together, he wasn’t as talkative as he is now. In fact, I was the one to ask him out. Sometimes you just have to suck it up and tell them.”

“That’s so easy to say,” Vada muttered, and put her face in her hands.

“That’s the kind of attitude you should save for when you go back to your other life, your American life. Are you going to university this fall? Summer’s halfway over, you know? Are you going to mull over it and let it pass by you?”

“Yes.” Vada’s voice was muffled through her hands.

“Carpe diem, mon chère.” Marlène shrugged. “It’s cheesy but it’s true.”

Andre being the ever BBQ dad that he was, decided to host a get-together with some friends that night, and encouraged Mia to invite hers. Everyone that Vada met at the beach showed up, including Noémie, except for you.

“She said she was busy,” Noémie waved it off. Vada pursed her lips. The fact that you talked to Noémie first stirred uneasy envy in the pit of her stomach.

She didn’t have the stomach to sit outside and spoil everyone’s fun with her sour face (most of all she didn’t want to give Noémie that satisfaction), so she made a plate for herself and ate in the living room.

“Hey, kiddo,” she looked up and saw Philip walk past her toward the kitchen. “Not feeling the party?”

Vada made a face to indicate a yes, but she didn’t want to explain further. “Just not really in the mood, sorry.”

“It’s okay. You can’t stop Andre from barbecuing when he has the urge or he’d literally combust.”

She nodded and smiled. “We don’t want that.”

“We’re serving fruits now. Want me to get you some?” He pointed at her empty plate.

“Yes, please. Thanks.” She hesitated for a beat. “Hey, Philip?”

The man turned around.

“How did you know that you wanted to marry Andre?”

Philip contemplated for a second, then walked over to the couch where she sat, leaning against it. “I didn’t wake up one day and choose to propose to him, Vada. It’s just one of those things when you start to notice that gnawing feeling in your chest. And you’d have to ask yourself, ‘Would I be fine going the rest of my life without them?’”

Vada nodded slowly and smiled as the man went back to the kitchen. She opened her phone and went to your messages. The last text from you was from a week ago. She began typing.

can we talk? Sent 8:47pm

A mere five minutes later, you responded.

of course Sent 8:47pm

meet me at the fountain at 10? Sent 8:48pm

see u there Sent 8:48pm

Vada found you walking back and forth by the Fountain, one hand in deep your pants pocket, the other holding a cigarette between your thumb and index, and puffing it as if it would give you a lifeline. She got off her bike and set it by the railing of the Fountain where you stood.

“You smoke?”

“Not usually,” you attempted to smile, shaking your arms as if to shake off an invisible burden. You were anxious, it was clear.

Vada didn’t know what to say next, so she leaned against the railing of the Fountain, rolling a pebble back and forth underneath her shoe.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you earlier. I was busy.”

She nodded half-heartedly, not looking up. She wished you’d come up with a better excuse than that.

“Are you angry with me?”

“Angry’s a strong word, Y/N.”

Another puff. “Are you discontent with me?”

She should have prepared herself for the nit-picky bullshit from a writer. “I don’t have a valid reason to be upset with you, not really. Unless I’ve been reading this wrong.”

“You haven’t.” You answered quickly and met her eyes. “I promise. It wasn’t very mature of me. In fact, I think I acted like a total idiot. I’m really sorry.”

“Do you regret kissing me?”

“No, not at all. And you have to believe me.” You sighed exasperatedly, and she almost felt bad because you looked so anxious.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Vada stepped towards you, facing you head-on. “You’re asking me whether I’m upset with you, but I don’t even know what you’re thinking most of the time. And then you disappear as though I did something wrong! How fair is that?”

You nodded and took another drag from your cigarette. Then, you dropped the butt on the floor and stomped on it. “I’m thinking that I really want to kiss you right now.”

Vada scoffed. “I don’t believe you.”

You stood up from your spot against the railing, your face now inches from hers. “It’s true.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yeah, it is.”

She felt the exact moment her body became as light as a feather as your lips pressed against hers. Her hands clenched by her side, and come up to hold onto your shoulders, because she was afraid her legs might give out under her. You angled your face and deepened the kiss, and Vada sighed into your mouth. This is what the poets all wrote about, the inevitability of giving in to what you’ve wanted for so long. She’s caged in you in between her body and the Fountain, kissing you and touching you as though her life depended on it.

You moved to lower your kisses to her neck, but she leaned back and saw a dark look in your eyes.

The sound of a street musician playing the saxophone in the distance somewhere echoed through the square. Wordlessly, Vada took your hand.

She followed you by bike towards your house, which was towards the end of the street closer to the beach. You returned to speaking only one or two words to her, telling her to put her bike by the door next to yours, to take her shoes off before coming in, and whether she wanted some water.

“Nice place.” It was another thing that she never thought to ask you about, nor did you tell her. But it wasn’t a surprise that your family was loaded too, considering the vacation home in an area like this.

“Thanks. It’s my parents’, though.”

“What do they do again?”

“Well, my mom does interior design and my dad is a football agent.”

“Football agent? Who does he represent?”

“Mostly American players in Europe; Christian Pulisic, Luca de la Torre, Gio Reyna. I remember my dad bringing me along to dinner with Sergio Agüero once because he considered a move to LAFC. That was pretty cool.” You stood against the wall in the hallway, next to the staircase, kicking your feet aimlessly. The small talk was to cover up for something else.

You fell into a deep silence. Vada took a step forward under the yellow light of the hallway and took your hand, stroking it gently.

“Can I kiss you?” She asked quietly.

You and she both knew you were way past just kissing. This was new territory, and there would be no going back after this.

You nodded, and she surged forwards to kiss you slowly. This time, it felt different. You kissed her without the chastity and fear of being looked in on but without the hunger of overcoming lust. It was a perfect blend of passion and appreciation, a marriage of everything felt within the past few weeks.

You lead her upstairs, towards your room. Once inside, your lips were still glued to hers as you let her walk backward, though your eagerness made her trip on your feet and fall onto the mattress.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry. ‘M sorry.” The two of you burst into a fit of giggles as you tried to make it up to her with a shower of kisses.

As her giggles quickly turned into pleasant sighs, she decided to surrender herself to you, to her deepest desires ever since the day she arrived. You had charmed her from the moment she laid eyes on you. But now to feel your hands on her in all the right places took her to new heights of pleasure that she’s never experienced before. How beautiful it was to be herself, to be here in this moment, and to cherish and be cherished by you. But most of all, to hear you whisper her name and profanities in the most sinful and vulnerable ways, so unlike your polished and composed self in front of other people.

Vada, Vada, Vada . . .

She awoke in the morning, the sun piercing through the horizontal slits of the shut windows. There was sweat sticking to her skin, but she didn’t want to get up and shower, not when you were still soundly asleep, arm loosely wrapped around her torso. It was then that she realized that you both were still very naked, but she reveled in the skin-to-skin contact like it was giving her strength and vitality. The golden hummingbird sat on your chest, rising and falling with each of your breaths.

Vada caught the moment your eyes fluttered open and focused on her. Then a smile.

“What time is it?” You asked.

Vada leaned over to check the clock on the wall. “7:41.”

You grumbled. “My shift starts at 8:30.”

“You better chop-chop then.”

“I don’t wanna go.”

“Then don’t.” Vada placed her chin on your upper chest. “Stay here with me, and we can recreate last night.”

You chuckled and kissed her once. “That sounds really tempting.”

And yet, you moved to get up, but she held you back. “Five more minutes.”

“Only five?” You smirked.

“You don’t think I can do it in five?”

You grinned like a Cheshire cat and settled back.

Vada had to let you go eventually, you let her stay at yours and do as she pleased. She suddenly remembered that she never texted Mia back about staying out overnight, and sure enough, flipped her phone over to a few missed calls and text messages. After texting her back and reassuring her that she was okay, she got up and went to take a shower.

You came back around four and, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, it felt like forever until you walked through the doors again. And the moment you did, she pounced on you like a lion.

“I’m so sweaty,” you laughed but soon became lost in the sensation of her lips against yours.

You made love again that afternoon. Vada could almost picture the routine that she and you so easily fell into, how the puzzle pieces fit together so seamlessly. It almost felt like she had cheated somehow to feel this way, that it truly felt as magical and wonderful as it was laying in your arms, both of you stark naked. You had showered and smelled much like lavender. Your eyes were closed but you weren’t asleep, as she watched your chest rise and fall steadily. Sometimes you would murmur something and she would talk to you quietly, knowing you were tired from a day’s work at the beach.

“I knew I liked you from the first day, at the Fountain,” you said.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?!” Vada looked up and hit your chest playfully.

“I didn’t want to come on too strong and scare you away!”

“Jesus Christ,” she sat up and put her face in her palms. “Y/N, I wanted you so badly. Like, I could not go a day without thinking about you. It was actually becoming unhealthy how much I did.”

“Oh? I’m flattered.” You smirked and rubbed her knee. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because . . . After Antibes, I wasn’t sure if you felt the same way.”

Your face dropped slightly. “I was scared to get close to someone. I think I caught myself then after we kissed. It was scary how much I wanted your company.”

Vada could understand. You’ve only known each other for three weeks. What were you to each other? Maybe it didn’t matter, there was something comforting about just existing as two souls being present with each other. She realized that the fear she’d harbored about losing her heart was all in vain; you never took it for yourself, you’d only pressed your hand against her chest and encouraged it to keep beating—to keep being hers—while you’d hoped that she would do the same to you.

“If you could go back to that day at the Fountain, and do it differently, would you?” Vada asked.

You thought for a second, then shook your head. “No. I always want to remember you this way.”

Vada swallowed thickly and avoided your eyes. “We’re leaving next week.”

A silence hung in the air, unspoken words stuck in her throat. Tell me to stay. Tell me you’ll come back with me. Tell me you’ll never love anyone else. Tell me you’d forget about me so as to soothe the pain.

“Then let’s make it count,” you brushed a hair from her eyes. “We’re not the first, and we won’t be the last to love each other.”

She dreaded the flight back home, having to pretend leaving you wouldn’t be as hard in front of Mia and her parents, and about 300 strangers. She’d miss biking everywhere and the beach and Lillian’s ice cream (she had grown to like it over Karim’s). She’d remember Antibes and Monet’s spot. She’d remember your face and how you seemed to appear in every memory of this trip.

Vada felt you brushing your finger under her eye and realized that it was wet. Then you brought her into your arms and held her tight as she hid from the world in your neck. You cooed and somehow it made Vada feel worse and started crying harder, clinging to your skin desperately.

She’d find space for the grief she was going to feel in her heart somewhere because she knew she’d rather live with the pain than be without you again.

The last week started on a Wednesday. Vada did the usual things she did the last few weeks—go to the beach, bike to town, hang out with the group; she wanted to soak into that last semblance of her summer routine before she had to leave, and everything would be different. She hadn’t given college much thought either. Deciding to move halfway across the country for it was the least stressful part of the whole process, as she was going in undecided. Mia was happy though, because they would only be a few hours apart by train.

Until then, Vada was too afraid to ask you about what would happen after the summer ended. If she asked, it would mean that it was close and it was real. You’d go back to school in Paris and start on your thesis, and everything would go back to the way it was.

Everything would go back to the way it was. As if nothing happened.

She had lived four weeks with you, how was she ever going to go the rest of her life without you?

She met up with you after dinner one night at the beach. The tides had come in much closer and were pulling on her heartstrings mercilessly. In and out, in and out . . . You were as quiet as the night, your eyes gazed towards the distance somewhere, looking pensive.

Still, she was afraid to ask.

“I lied,” you finally spoke. “I wished I had told you sooner how much I liked you.”

Vada remained silent and nodded. “We’ll call.”

“It won’t be the same.”

She knew too that it would never be the same the moment she leaves France. She realized that though she was afraid to ask, time was not on her side, and she didn’t have the luxury to be afraid anymore.

“Will you stay over tonight?” Vada asked, and you looked so happy that she did.

Once you stumbled through the door, you leaned in to kiss her instantly. Between wanting to kiss you back and suppressing moans, she told you to be quiet as you followed her upstairs, hand in hand. You failed, however, actually, both of you did, as your giggles trailed up the stairs and through the hallway. Vada would be lucky if only Mia heard you.

The day she left for the airport, you came over to say goodbye. You greeted the Reeds first, giving Philip and Andre big hugs, then turned to Mia to hug as well and kiss her on the forehead.

Vada waited in the backyard. She felt almost pathetic and needy for wanting you to come out here quicker. It won’t be the same.

“Andre gave me this to keep for my parents.”You held up a bottle of wine by the neck. “1983, nice.”

Your smile died down when you noticed her silence. “You got everything?”

She nodded. Wordlessly, she stepped forwards to wrap her arms around your frame. She thought she’d cry, but it was as if her brain was already actively shutting down trying to block out this memory to save her the future heartbreak.

You pressed her tightly against your chest and swayed her back and forth. Upon releasing her, you set down the bottle of wine next to your feet and took off your necklace.

“I want you to have this.” You opened her palm and neatly placed the jewelry inside. “That way, you won’t forget.”

How could you ever think that I would forget when I’m afraid I’ll never be able to let go of this summer?

“I wish we had more time,” Vada said.

“Bye, Cinderella.” Your eyes were glossy now.

The car door was wide open, waiting to take her away from you. For a split second, she considered dropping everything to stay.

She leaned in to kiss you once, deep and hard, “Bye, Y/N.” Then she walked away, the hummingbird clenched in her fist.

You followed her and watched her get in the car. You watched her close it with force and you watched her refuse to make eye contact with you, but you saw the way her lips trembled. You watched the car take her away from you and grazed the spot on your chest where the hummingbird was missing.

It was mid-July, the hottest day of the year, and yet, the ocean waves—blue as it gets—continued to crash against the shore, on and on and on.

#vada cavell x reader #vada cavell imagines #vada cavell imagine #vada cavell x you #vada cavell #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x reader

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