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xxsabitoxx · 3 months

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Tutoring Session

College Math Tutor Sanemi x Female College Student Reader

Warnings: raw sex, edging, praising, hair pulling, creampies

A/N: hit me like a freight train, I’ve been dying to write this idea for literal months and I just couldn’t figure out who to write it about… obviously Sanemi was the clear choice. I blame @peachdues tbh

WORD COUNT: 2.5k | NOT MY ART!! Credit to the artist!! if anyone knows them please let me know so I can properly credit them!

"There you go, that's right." Sanemi smiled as you solved the equation correctly, watching your hands tremble as you wrote the numbers. "Took you long enough, sweetheart." He added as you whined, the grip he had on your hair was the only thing really keeping your head from falling forward in frustration. "Let's try the next one."

All the while, the dull head of cock was gliding between slick folds. This was his idea of tutoring you, tormenting you with the promise of shoving his cock inside of you, but only after you finished your work. Sanemi had you stuck, literally and figuratively at this point.

Your knees were aching from where they were digging into the hardwood flooring of his apartment, and your body bent over his coffee table with all your math equations spread out before you. Nothing was on either of you from the waist down, Sanemi's knees keeping your legs from squeezing shut in protest."How would you solve this equation, sweetheart. Show me."

You let out a shrill whine as he caught on your entrance for what felt like the thousandth time that evening. You were soaking wet and he hadn't so much as pressed into you. Your hands trembled as you lifted your pencil again, reading over the numbers and letters with blurry vision as you tried to recall the first step.

One squeeze from his hand on your waist and you were focusing again, pushing the pencil to the paper as you wrote out your first line. Sanemi hummed in approval, pumping his cock slowly before sliding his leaking tip between your drenched folds.

If you got this one right, he'd get inside of you, you'd have to work through the rest as his hips slowly rocked in and out of you. It was his favorite part of tutoring you, he could edge you for hours on end but it didn’t compare to the warmth your cunt enveloped him in once he pushed inside. It was addicting, he’d never stop tutoring you just for this reason.

“You have to carry that one over, remember?” he hummed as he looked over your shoulder, watching your handwriting get increasingly sloppier as you erased your first mistake. Sanemi’s eyes glanced over the other sheets of paper, you had started off so strong, then you could see exactly when he got you into this position, the shakiness of your hand was present.

“You better hurry, it's getting harder to not push right in.” He grinned, tugging your hair just a little harder as you whimpered. The head of his cock had caught on your entrance again, but this time he kept it in place. He could feel you constricting, clenching around nothing at all and begging to suck him into the wet warmth of your sex. “S-Sanemi… sir please…”

Your voice came out in a broken hiccup, making his cock twitch in interest as you moved down the line of your equation. “You know the rules, sweetheart. You don’t get my cock until I’m satisfied with the amount of work you successfully completed.” His knees were aching too, but he could withstand it just to see you struggle. Your hair was soft in his grasp, but the mewls you made were even softer when he tugged on the strands.

You felt tears burning your eyes, frustration towards math mixing with the frustration of not being able to alleviate the ache between your sticky thighs. Within an hour of his tutoring, Sanemi had rendered you to an embarrassing, sticky mess. Your slick was covering his thighs as well as his pubic bone, and of course his cock. “Carry that one.”

Shakily, you erased, whining as you corrected your mistake. “Don’t move your hips or I’ll return to grinding my cock against you.” You stilled, you hadn’t even realized you were trying to force your hips back on his length. “I’m…mmm I’m s-sorry sir.” You hiccupped, you could feel your heartbeat in your clit at this point, and it was driving you insane. “Don’t apologize, solve the problem.”

You focused to the best of your abilities again, tears leaking down your cheeks and spotting the paper below you as the pressure built. Between the ache between your legs and the pressure of his dull cock head pressing into your awaiting entrance, you were certain you would crack under his gaze. You could feel it burning just over your shoulder, certain it was accompanied by rosy cheeks and fucked out eyes, making even swollen lips from where he chewed them.

Your entire body jerked forward, head nearly falling forward along with it before Sanemi tugged again. “Keep your mind out of the gutter, sweetheart.” Your face was burning, he was one to talk considering the position he had you in right now.

“You are two lines away from getting my cock shoved in you, I’d smarten up and focus.” Your heart lurched, the promise in his tone was undeniable. Solve this equation and you’d get what you wanted.

You scribbled the next line, earning a hum of approval from Sanemi as you moved to piece everything together and solve the equation. You waited with bated breath, looking everything over to confirm you were correct before shakily writing your answer.

After a beat of silence, Sanemi thrusted his hips forward, plunging his cock deep into your cunt. A loud cry of his name left your lips followed by a string of curses. The sting of being stretched so suddenly had you shivering, your pencil dropping from your hand as you tried to ground yourself.

“Atta girl, you take me so–ha–so good.” Your cunt was fluttering around him, your hips trying to pull away just enough to ease the pressure on your cervix. The room was filled with your breathing before Sanemi finally panted “next”. You wanted to cry, frustrated and in need of relief and yet you were being forced to start your next round equations. “S-sanemi please…”

“You heard me, sweetheart. Start the next problem.” He had regained a little bit of composure, pressing his hips flush against your own as he maneuvered his body lower. You could feel the heat radiating off of him as his front met your back, and yet again you were trying to run away from the one thing you had been begging for. “Turn the page over, we have four more to do.” His breath was hot against your ear, causing your body to involuntary shudder in response.

You did as you were told, inhaling deeply as he returned to his original position. Once the paper was flipped and your pencil was back in your hand, Sanemi let go of the grip he had on your hair so both hands could hold your waist. He didn’t care if you struggled now, if anything he wanted to see you visibly falling apart.

You started slowly, moaning softly as Sanemi pulled out half way before slamming into you again. This paper would be a damn mess by the time you were done. That was Sanemi’s intention, after all, he liked to keep your ruined sheets of math as a reward once he was done. Your body shook with the force of his hips slamming into your own, the pencil dragging across the paper in sloppy mess as you began solving the next equation.

“Oh fuck… fuck… fuck fuck…” You cried, pencil nearly ripping the paper as Sanemi’s hips rolled perfectly into you. The bulbous head of his cock grazed that one particular spot perfectly, making your back arch in response to the sensation. “Focus.” But his tone was hoarse, weak even as your slick arousal began to collect around the base of his cock. It's not like he could even focus on the math, eyes zeroing in on where your cunt sucked him in.

“Solve this one right and I’ll fill you up, you’d love that wouldn’t ya?” You nodded, blabbering out a yes as your hand shakily wrote two more numbers in the first line of the problem. You weren’t going to get that far, but you’d damn near try your hardest. Sanemi’s hips were picking up their pace, falling into a brutal rhythm that was making it hard for you to properly see the numbers on your paper. The coffee table was creaking in protest with each snap of his hips.

It was dizzying, feeling him split you open over and over as your velvety walls tried to clamp down and slow his speed. You were soaking wet, a warm gush of your arousal causing slick squelching noises to fill the small living room. “Finish the first line, sweetheart.” He could feel the sweat beading down his temple, as much as he loved to tease you, your cunt was almost too overwhelming for him.

He could fight off his inevitable release for a little while, but at the pace in which you were writing the problem out, he was certain he’d lose the battle. You were shaking as you finished the first line, eyes blurry as you tried to move the equation through your mind. You were too far gone already, cheeks burning hot as drool slipped past your parted lips. You could feel the embarrassment pushing you down, head falling forward now that Sanemi didn’t have a fistful of your hair to keep you upright.

“C’mon, Sweet–ha–heart fucking finish the problem.'' The last half came out in a low and desperate tone, you could feel Sanemi’s cock twitching violently as it embedded itself in your velvety heat. “I-I’m trying…” you pleaded softly, tears flowing freely as you lifted your head. “I.. you’re too rough… oh fuck sir, don't stop.” you mewled, back arching as your hips shot back to meet his thrusts. Sanemi couldn’t say no to that, not when you were suffocating him.

“Finish.” he restated, nails digging into the plush skin of your hips as his brows creased. He would have to pound some fucking sense into you… or maybe himself. Your pencil was scraping against the paper again as you worked through the equation, at this point Sanemi didn’t even care if you fucked it up and got the answer wrong, he just wanted to see a final result.

Though, that suddenly wasn’t enough for him anymore.

A spike of arousal had one hand leaving your hips just to sneak around your front and find your clit. A sharp gasp tore from your mouth as white hot pleasure blurred your vision once more. Your neglected clit was far too sensitive for the immediate fast and rough circles Sanemi’s fingers were giving you. That and the fact that his hands were calloused, rougher than your own and creating more friction than you ever could.

“Oh fuck… I’m gonna…” you choked on your own words, the pencil led snapping as the heat in your abdomen grew hotter. Your release was sneaking up on you thanks to the addition of his fingers. “You’re already gonna cum?” Sanemi’s tone was mocking, as if his own cock wasn’t swelling with his own impending release. You let out a garbled response that sounded somewhat similar to a “yes”, no longer able to write now that your pencil had broken.

Sanemi noticed, of course, his ego inflating like a balloon as he looked at the ruined paper and the ruined pencil. “You’re lucky that didn’t…” he inhaled, jaw clenching as he tried to stave off his release for a little longer. “You’re lucky you didn’t snap the whole pencil.” You just shook your head, cheek turning to press against the paper covered table. Your hands twitched as they found the edge, grabbing on tightly to try and ground yourself once more.

“Don’t hold out on me, sweetheart… you’ll still get my cum for trying.” A loud whimper followed his promise, no longer able to control the noises you made as Sanemi’s hips continued to piston into your sopping cunt. It hit you then, your orgasm just barely teetering over the edge as you babbled out a jumble of curses and pleas to stop. Not that you actually wanted him too, Sanemi had learned that your cries only meant you were getting overwhelmed in the best way possible.

“Come for me, sweetheart. Ruin me.”

You could feel the cord snap, your orgasm washing over you as his hips and fingers never faltered. You were positive you moaned his name a little louder than you wanted to, unable to help it as your ears rang from the intensity. Sanemi’s teeth sunk into his lower lip hard enough to nearly draw blood. Your cunt was quivering around him, suffocatingly tight as a warm gush of your arousal dripped down your thighs. The sight was unbearably hot, and just enough to push him over the edge with you.

You shivered as he came, spraying your walls with his sticky release. “Oh fuck.” It was just barely audible over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. Sanemi was tense, too tense to acknowledge the marks he was leaving on your hips as his nails dug into your skin. It wasn’t until his hips came to a stuttering halt, burying deep inside your cunt that he was able to suck air into his lungs again and loosen his grip. “Y-you okay?”

You hummed, too tired to lift yourself off of the table. “Words, sweetheart.” Sanemi was never content with your little noises after the fact. He needed the verbal affirmation that you were okay and he wasn’t too rough. “...’m good.” You heard him exhale through his nose, something similar to a humorless laugh. “C’mon, let me clean you up.” the feeling of his softening cock slipping out of you made you both shiver, his sticky release following.

He watched your hips squirm, you were never fond of the feeling. “Sorry, sweetheart.” but again, you mumbled out an “...’s okay”. He had worn you out, there was no way he would be able to finish your lesson tonight. “How about a shower instead of a rag?” His fingers were running along your slick thighs as he spoke, carefully dragging your mixing arousal back up to your entrance and using two fingers to shove it back inside.

“You’ll have tah carry me.” you mumbled, pushing yourself up halfheartedly, your cheeks stained with drying tears. “Fine by me, it’s the least I can do.” Sanemi smiled, carefully moving to pull you into a sitting position and get your weight off of your bruising knees. “You wouldn’t mind if I stayed the night, would ya?” You nearly collapsed into him, turning weakly into his embrace so he could get you both off the ground.

“You’re always welcome, Sanemi. I still have some of your clothes in my dresser.” He chuckled at that, hauling you up bridal style as he made his way towards your bathroom “I might as well move in at this point, hmm?” this time you were the one starting to laugh. “You practically live here already, Sanemi. Why don’t we make it official?” If he knew it would have been that easy, he would have made the comment weeks ago. “I’d like that.”

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justaweasel · 2 months

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I always imagine MC getting summoned into the Devildom in different ways at the start of the game, but this one has STUCK so I'm screaming into the void to get it out of my personal void

You had just finished with your little project. For some reason, you had wanted to create a piñata. It was a fun little project and after you could destroy your creation in a plethora of ways. It'd be almost therapeutic.

As you got up to wash your hands of the weird flour (can be too glue btw) , water mixture. For the split second that you blinked, you had blipped into an entirely different room. You looked around, obviously confused. There were a few men there, in a weird court-like room. You wanted to rub your eyes to make sure what you were seeing was really true, but refrained from doing so due to.. the state of your hands.

Wait.

Your hands...

You looked down and then up again, down, up, down, up. You saw the look on their faces. Some confused, some flustered, some amused, and others completely indifferent. In a rush you had tried to explain yourself.

"This is papier-mâché, this is papier-mâché, this is papermache, thisispapermache, thisipapermache!" Your words sort of blended together as you frantically tried to justify the.. that on your hands. The man on the highest chair, the red-headed one, chuckled and raised his hand to silence you.

There's probably more that'll pop into my head, but that's all for now :3

(Just imagine Asmo ribbing you later when you make a pact.

"Was that reeeeaaallly papier-mâché?"

"Shut up.")

#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me diavolo #obey me asmodeus #obey me mc #second person pov #obey me headcanons #drabble

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monzabee · 10 months

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déjà vu (beyoncé’s version) – ln4

masterlist

Summary: The one where a bad prank leads to you and Lando exploring an option you thought was not an option.

Pairing: lando norris x bestfriend!reader (nicknamed Tink)

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: smut elements but no actual smut, cursing, pining and of course fluff!

Request: “Haiiii. I love your style of writing Lando and feel like you would 100% do a request justice to scratch the itch in my brain Reader and him have been childhood friends, mutual pining with some sexual tension but never crossed lines other than a new years kiss with friends etc. So reader ends up training and qualifying as a physio/masseuse and travelling with Lando bc fun besties on tour together yay! Thinking she ends up getting to know his body really well from that and has to massage some intimate area- tension builds blah. They have a cosy night in together after front row quali to prep for the race, face masks cuddles bc really physically comfortable together and then some confessions happen. After this going out to celebrate home race (not jinxing tomorrow!!) and reader ends up dancing with another driver, Lando gets jealous fully opens up and they go home together (as much detail on that as you feel comfortable with) No probs if it’s something you don’t feel inspired to write! Pls continue writing whatever you love because I love to read your stuff!!”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! am i back after a literal month of no fics?? i hope so!! thank you so much for being patient with me you guysi i appreciate it, and i just want to say that this was the first time i wrote for lando (and you can definitely thank @userlando and her lando brainrot posts for that) and i’m kind of obsessed!! so as always, thank you to the anon for the request, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Being friends with Lando has resulted in both of you getting in trouble way too many times, you realise. The most recent case? The both of you ended up in a supply closet nearby the Aston Martin hospitality, hiding from a very, very, angry Spaniard. The close proximity and the limited space wouldn’t have been a big issue, for if Lando wasn’t looking at you with that look in his eyes. Under normal other circumstances, your reaction would’ve been much more different to the one you give him now – which is a glare that shows him you are not happy with the situation the both of you are in.

You’re about to scold him, but the words on your tongue quickly die as he presses his index finger to your lips. “I know you’re about to yell at me,” he whispers as he tries to keep his voice as low as possible, “but I really don’t want to be found right now.”

“Then maybe you should’ve thought about that before, you bloody idiot.” You hiss while slapping his hand away, which wins you a mock pout in return. “Why would you play that song every time he walked into a room?”

“It’s his name,” Lando tries to reason, “I thought he’d be used to it by now!”

Here’s the sitch. Lando, being the absolute prankster he is, decided to play ‘Fernando’ every time his former teammate entered into a room that morning – which resulted in the Spaniard becoming more and more annoyed with him until he snapped and Lando had to find himself a hiding place. How did you get roped into this, you may ask? You have absolutely no idea, other than your best friend dragging you into a nearby storage closet as you were walking back to the McLaren hospitality after meeting up with some of your friends for a cup of coffee. And now? The two of you are stuck inside a closet which is obviously too small for you both, and Lando has to bend his neck in an uncomfortable position.

“Lando,” you whisper in an attempt to keep your voice down, “don’t bend your head like that, you’ll strain something.”

“Well it’s not exactly comfortable, Tink.” He grimaces as one of the shelves hit his neck, which causes him to let out a low groan.

Ignoring the nickname he’s used for years, you motion him to move lower. “Just– let me see, okay?”

He begrudgingly nods as he bends his body towards you to accommodate you. You let your fingers run across his skin to find any knots along his shoulders. He lets out another low groan, but this one is more appreciative as you work some of the knots your fingers end up finding.

You watch as Lando’s expression changes from painful discomfort to relief as your fingers work their magic on his tense muscles. For a brief moment, it's just the two of you in the confined space, and you almost get lost in the comfortable silence. “Feels good,” Lando murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, “I swear you have magic hands or something.”

You let out a breathy chuckle, “I just know your body, Lando.” After realising the words that come out of your mouth, your face flushes with embarrassment at the unintended implication of your words and you scramble to add, “Not like that, I didn’t mean–”

He smirks playfully, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “Oh, really? My body, huh? You think about my body often?” he teases, his hands squeezing your waist – and being lost in the moment, you don’t even know how they ended up there.

Your cheeks grow even hotter, and you feel your heart rate quicken. “No, that's not what I meant,” you stammer, trying to regain your composure, “and you know it’s basically my job to think about, you know?”

The mischievous glint in his eyes shine brightly as he decides to play dumb, “To think about what, baby?”

Your heart skips a beat at his teasing, and you can't help but let out a small laugh, trying to hide your embarrassment. “Don't be ridiculous, Lando,” you retort, trying to act cool despite the butterflies in your stomach. “I meant knowing your body like an expert, considering the fact that you pull a muscle every time you decide to do a physical activity.”

He chuckles, and his hands, still resting on your waist, give you a playful squeeze. "Sure, sure, Tink," he replies, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "But let's be honest, it's not just my body you know well. You practically read my mind too."

You roll your eyes, trying to playfully push him away. "Oh, please. You're not that hard to figure out."

Lando leans in a little closer, his grin still evident. "Is that so? Then tell me, oh expert of Lando Norris, what am I thinking right now?"

You raise an eyebrow, not falling for his trick. "You're probably thinking that you got away with the Fernando prank and now you owe me big time, your brain is empty most of the time."

He smirks, impressed by your response. "You're good, Tink. But you're right, I do owe you one. What can I do to make it up to you?"

You pause, the closeness between the two of you making it difficult to think clearly. "Well, for starters, maybe you can stop dragging me into your pranks and getting us into trouble," you suggest with a hint of a smile. “And I don’t know, maybe take pole for me, you know?”

As the playful banter continues, you both seem to forget about the predicament you're in. The confined space of the closet no longer feels suffocating; instead, it becomes a haven for shared laughter and camaraderie.

Just as the two of you are lost in the moment, the closet door suddenly opens, and you both freeze. The angry Spaniard stands before you once again, but this time, his expression has softened, seeing you and Lando in a surprisingly intimate moment.

"Am I interrupting something?" Fernando asks, his tone amused.

Your face turns beet red, and Lando lets out a nervous chuckle. "Oh, hey there. Just having a chat, you know."

But Fernando raises an eyebrow, still looking amused. "In a supply closet?"

You and Lando exchange a sheepish glance, realizing how the situation must appear to Fernando. "Well, we kind of got caught up in the moment," you admit, hoping he doesn't read too much into it.

Fernando chuckles, and there's a warm glint in his eyes. "I see. Well, it's none of my business, but you might want to find a less cramped place to chat next time."

You nod in agreement, grateful that Fernando seems to be taking the situation lightly. "You're right. We'll keep that in mind," you say, trying to sound casual.

Lando adds with a grin, "Yeah, and we promise not to play 'Fernando' every time you enter a room from now on." But he’s quick to correct himself when you give him a glare, “I promise not to play 'Fernando' every time you enter a room from now on."

Fernando chuckles again, seemingly amused by the whole ordeal. "I'd appreciate that. Anyway, carry on. I won't keep you two any longer."

As he walks away, you let out a sigh of relief. "That could have been a lot worse," you say, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

"Yeah, we got lucky," Lando agrees, giving you a playful nudge. "But you know what they say, Tink, nothing like a bit of closet bonding to strengthen a friendship."

You roll your eyes at his playful banter, but there's a fondness in your heart as you look at him. "You're incorrigible, Lando Norris."

He grins, "You love it, though."

You can't help but smile, knowing he's right. “Come on,” you say, “you have a quali to attend.”

The tension from the qualifying session had left you on edge, your heart pounding with every lap, and your nerves had gotten the better of you, leading to some slightly bloody nails from biting them in anticipation. But all that anxiety melts away when you see Lando step out of the car, grinning ear to ear. As soon as he catches sight of you, he opens his arms, and you don't hesitate for a moment. You rush into his embrace, holding him tightly, relieved that he's safe and thrilled that he performed so well.

"You were amazing out there!" you exclaim, unable to hide the pride in your voice. "P2, front row! That's incredible!"

Lando chuckles, his arms still wrapped around you. "I don’t know how we did it!"

You pull back slightly to look into his eyes, your heart swelling with admiration for your best friend. "I never doubted you for a second," you say earnestly.

His grin widens, and he playfully ruffles your hair. "I know you didn't. Seems like you’re my lucky charm, hm?"

“You know what that means?” You ask him return, a playful smirk on your lips.

His answer comes quickly, and his look seems to reflect your own, “Pizza and a movie?”

Your reply is just as enthusiastic as you throw your arms around him and give him a big smile, “Pizza and a movie, baby!”

Eventually, you manage to escape the whole hustle and bustle of the circuit, and you and Lando find yourselves back at the hotel, with you on the couch trying to find something to watch and him deciding to take a quick shower after the stressful day of qualifying. After a few minutes, you hear the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. You smile to yourself, glad that Lando is taking some time to relax after such a demanding day. As you wait for him to finish, you finally settle on a movie to watch with a small grin on your face, clearly pleased with your choice. Just as you're about to start the movie, you hear the bathroom door open, and Lando emerges, looking refreshed and relaxed.

After he gets the pizza box out of the oven, he walks over to the couch, wearing sweatpants instead of his jeans, and flops down next to you. "That shower was exactly what I needed," he says with a contented sigh.

You chuckle, glancing at him, while also trying to actively ignore the fact that he’s wearing grey sweatpants. "Feeling better now?"

"Definitely," he replies, flashing you a grin. "So, what are we watching?"

“Mamma Mia,” you scoff, “of course.”

“A classic, nice.” He nods in understanding, extending the pizza box to you for you to take a slice. “It’s still warm.”

You wordlessly grab a slice and pass the box back to Lando as you settle in your seat, ready to focus on your choice of movie. The comfortable silence between you feels familiar, like the unspoken language of best friends who have shared countless memories and moments together. Throughout the movie, you can't help but notice Lando's occasional stolen glances at you, and you find yourself stealing glances right back. He even winks at you with that boyish grin every time he catches you staring at him, making you giggle as you quickly turn your attention back onto the screen. You somehow find yourself sprawled out on the couch once the pizza box is emptied and discarded, and it’s harder for you to keep your eyes open. With your head on Lando’s lap, he plays with the ends of your hair as the two of you try to keep your attention on the screen.

‘Try,’ being the operative word here, since Lando realises that you end up falling asleep in the middle of the movie where Sophie realises all of the men she invited to the wedding thinks they are her father, and though he finds some kind of comfort in the chaos knowing that it will get resolved eventually, he can’t help but take his role as a makeshift human pillow very seriously. As the movie continues playing, Lando tries his best not to disturb your peaceful slumber. He leans back against the couch, adjusting his position so you can rest more comfortably on his lap while also trying so hard to not wake you up. He can't help but smile to himself as he plays with your hair, finding himself mesmerized by the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you breathe.

With a sudden realisation that maybe it is not the best thing to stare at you while you sleep, he tries to occupy himself with something on his phone while also trying to keep still so that you don’t wake up. However, the text thread between him and Max quickly makes him realise that the thoughts that he tries so hard to keep away. He never gave himself the opportunity to think about the two of you that way, he supposes. Not that it would be weird or anything, but in his mind, he’d seen, and been in, far too many relationships form and de-form to know that not all is permanent when it comes to relationships and it’s also not something he’d want to risk when it comes to you. Although the unwarranted thoughts of the two of you together, as a couple, have been haunting him for the past couple of months, he did a great job of sending them away and finding something else to focus on – up until now, that is. And now that he’s pictured the two of you together, holding hands in the streets of Monaco, going on dates, doing more than what ‘best friends’ are meant to do, it doesn’t seem that daunting to give it a try.

He carefully shifts you onto his lap with gentle movements, surprised that you don’t wake up and also trying to figure out the best way to wake you up without startling you. As he gently brushes your cheek, your eyes flutter open, and you look up at him with a sleepy smile. "Did I miss the end of the movie?" you ask, your voice still heavy with sleep.

Lando chuckles, shaking his head, but not stilling the movement of his hand. “No, we just finished. You fell asleep somewhere in the middle.”

You sit up slightly, rubbing your eyes with a small yawn. “I'm sorry,” you say, sounding apologetic.

“No need to apologise,” he assures you, his thumb caressing your cheek. “You looked adorable sleeping, Tink.”

Your cheeks flush slightly, and you give him a playful nudge. “Stop teasing me.”

Lando grins, but there's a tenderness in his eyes as he looks at you. “I'm not teasing, Tink. I mean it. You always look adorable, no matter what you're doing.”

You feel your heart skip a beat at his sincere compliment, and you can't help but smile back. “Thank you,” you say softly, feeling a warmth spreading through you, “I, uh, I should probably go to my room and let you sleep.”

“What? No, you don’t have to go.” Lando’s eyebrows furrow on their own, “I mean, you could stay over, it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

You give him an unsure look, “I don’t know, Lando, you have a race tomorrow.”

“And we’ll sleep,” he shrugs, “the name ‘sleepover’ implies that, baby.”

You end up giving in and nodding, albeit a little hesitant. "Alright, I'll stay over."

Lando's face lights up with a bright smile, clearly pleased with your decision. "Great! It'll be fun, just like old times."

You chuckle softly. "Yeah, just like old times."

And you’d expect it to feel like the old times, because the two of you said it would be like the old times – the times where you’d spend the night over at his house because his mother picked you up and you didn’t want the playtime to be over. But instead of the excitement of a prolonged play date with your best friend, you find yourself anxious in the hotel bathroom over the fact that it’s him out there, and there is no way that he is not aware of the way you feel about him. You take a moment to compose yourself, splashing some cold water on your face to calm your nerves. This situation is new territory for both of you, and you don't want anything to ruin the friendship the two of you have. When you eventually make your way out of the bathroom, you desperately want to go back in, feeling undoubtedly exposed under Lando’s burning gaze.

“What?” You ask, your voice coming off weaker than you hoped, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

It takes a minute for him to answer you, mainly because of the fact that poor Lando is having a brain malfunction at the sight of you in his shirt – which he gave it to you because it was the only logical option for sleepwear, you know? Suddenly regretting his possessive streak, he attempts to clear his throat, “Nothing, you look good in my clothes.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, and you try not to let yourself become reduced to a blubbering mess, “Oh, well thank you. It’s yours,” after a brief moment of realisation you quickly add, “but you already knew that.”

“Tink,” he calls out, snapping you out of whatever embarrassed state you’re in, and your eyes quickly snap to his. “Come here,” he pleads as he extends one of his towards you, he’s quick to draw you into his arms – and just like that, you find yourself straddling your best friend.

“This is crazy,” you whisper as Lando grabs you by the waist to still your movements as you try to find a comfortable position while not realising just how uncomfortable it becomes for him.

“It doesn’t have to be,” his whisper is just as soft as yours as he looks up to you, “we don’t have to make it weird.”

A compromise, you’ll take it. “Are you going to kiss me?”

“Do you want me to kiss you?” As much as you hate it when he replies to your questions with his own, you nod your head with a sheepish look on your face, though it doesn’t satisfy Lando as a valid answer. “I need you to say it, baby.”

You answer comes of in an instant. “I do, please.”

“Such good manners,” he mumbles while giving you that boyish grin you love oh so much. When he catches biting the corner of your lip, you’re broken out of your daydream by his thumb pulling your lip free. “Don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself,” his thumb caresses the side of your lip, “that’s my job, anyway.”

Your cheeks flush at his playful comment, and you can't help but smile at his words. "Your job, huh?" you tease, feeling the tension in the air starting to dissipate.

Lando chuckles, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your waist. "Among other things," he replies with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Before you give yourself the opportunity to overthink, you lean in and press a soft kiss to Lando’s lips – it’s only a peck, a hesitant one at that, but not completely uncharted territory when you think about it. The two of you have shared kisses before, at Christmas or New Year’s at midnight, but somehow this simple peck feels different than any of those other occasions. Lando doesn’t rush you. He’s a patient man after all, and he knows that the feelings he has for you are reciprocated by the feelings you have for him. So when you look him with widened eyes, he gives you a soft smile and it does wonders to calm your nerves. It doesn’t take you long to press your lips against his once again, but this time the kiss is deeper, more passionate, and filled with the unspoken words that have lingered between you for too long.

It starts off with another peck, but this time you take the initiative to deepen the kiss, and the appreciative groan that leaves Lando’s lips makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. His hands move from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him, while yours tangle in his hair, revelling in the softness of his curls – and the fact that all of this feels almost familiar in some kind of a way. He’s not shy as he lets his tongue explore your mouth, in fact, he encourages you to do the same. It’s a messy kiss filled with colliding tongues and mixed breaths, and the hands that were on your waist one moment are now on your hips, encouraging their slow movement against his groin. It’s not a subtle build-up for any of you, either. It a matter of seconds, you find yourself dry-humping your childhood best friend in his hotel room, and in a couple more, both of you are whimpering into the kiss.

You’re both out of breath and breathing deeply as you rest your forehead against Lando’s. Thankfully, his hands continue to guide your hips as their movement get more and more erratic, and you him groan out, “Slow down, baby.”

You let out an objective whimper in return, whispering out a weak, “No.”

“No?” Lando repeats, his breath hitting your exposed neck in a light chuckle, “Do you want to come?”

“Uh-huh,” you mumble, letting your hands grab handfuls of his hair, “but you can’t fuck me.”

The whine that comes from your lips can only be described as bratty when Lando forces your hips to cease their movements, raising an eyebrow at you as he grumbles, “Excuse me?”

“You can’t fuck me, Lando.” You mumble, trying to move your hips again, but his hold is too powerful against your attempts. “At least not tonight.”

“And why is that, Tink?” He takes in your wide eyes and shuddering breath in, thinking he’d done something wrong, something you didn’t like. “You want to come, no?” He thinks at that moment, as you give him a nod with that dreamy and almost innocent look on your face, he could die and he’d be happy with where his life has led him, but he gives you a confused look, “Then what is the problem?”

“Um, you have a race tomorrow,” you explain as your fingers gently slide down to meet at the nape of his neck, “I don’t want to jinx anything.”

As a respond to your words, Lando gives you a look of disbelief, “You don’t want to jinx me having a good race,” he mumbles.

You give him another nod, “Are you mad at me?”

“Am I mad at you?” Lando repeats the question, and he flips the two of you over in a smooth motion so that you're lying on the bed with him hovering above you, his eyes locked onto yours. “Answer the question for me, will you?”

You take a moment to catch your breath, your heart racing as you meet his intense gaze. “No,” you reply softly, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. “Why would you be mad at me?”

Lando's lips curve into a playful smile as he leans in, his breath warm against your skin. “See?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours, “Good girl.” As he moves down your body, you let out a protesting sound, but he quickly shushes you as he positions himself between your legs. “I’m going to make you come, and you’re not talking to Micheal Italiano ever again.” He taps the side of your hips to signal you to raise them up as he carefully takes off your underwear and then murmurs to himself, “Pretty girl, too.”

With a blush which is quickly spreading onto your cheeks and neck, you raise yourself onto your elbows as you watch him give you the do-over. “Lando,” you plead.

“Oh baby, you're wet,” he teases, “don’t worry, though, I’ll help you with that.” He also gives you a look while grabbing both of your thighs, “And the shirt fucking stays on.”

After the events of the previous night with Lando working wonders between your legs for the remainder of the night, he honestly didn’t expect to start the morning with you returning the favour. Alas there you were, between his legs, with sleepy eyes and an innocent smile as if you hadn’t just given him the best blowjob of his life. And as the two of you make your way along the paddock, he wishes he was back in his hotel room with you in his arms. You try your best to distract him from overthinking everything and costing himself the race, and Lando is aware of what you’re trying to do – though that doesn’t mean you succeed completely.

You can tell by the small frown of eyebrows that he is lost inside his head, probably double guessing every aspect of the strategy his team debriefed him about this morning. With a deep inhale, you give his hand a small squeeze, halting your movements to stop him alongside you. “Hey,” you call out gently, “you’re going to be amazing out there, okay? You have nothing to worry about.”

“I know, it’s just the pressure is getting to me.” You watch him sigh, closing his eyes for a moment to regroup his thoughts, “I’ll be fine before I go in the car, I promise.”

You nod, giving him an encouraging smile, “I know you will. After all, you feel the–”

“Need for speed.” He completes the sentence without thinking, which makes the two of share a short laughter. “Thanks, Tink.”

“You’re welcome,” lifting yourself up on your tiptoes, you give him a soft peck on his lips, “I’ll watch the race with your dad, okay?” You chuckle at his reaction when he lets out a prolonged groan, “What?”

“He’s going to make fun of us, big time.” He says, rolling his eyes.

“Go,” you say in between laughter, “don’t be late and for the love of God, be careful!”

Lando chuckles at your playful warning, giving you a mock salute. “Yes, ma'am!”

It doesn’t take long for you to find Adam, who gives you a knowing look, in the sea of spectators in the McLaren garage. And as the race begins, you and Adam stand side by side, your eyes fixed on the track where the race is unfolding. The first four laps as the Lando leads the race makes your heart beat so hard, you can practically feel the excitement coursing through your veins. Each turn and straightaway that Lando navigates flawlessly adds to the anticipation building in the air. Even when he returns to his original position, you’re on the edge, praying to whatever deity up there for him to finish this race without and incident. You’ve told him million times before that you don’t get F1 at all, you’ve always thought the adrenaline linked with the sport to be a negative feeling – too heavy, too much and definitely not something you want to feel every weekend. But in the moment that Lando passes the finishing line P2, you realise why people are so obsessed with this sport. Because when Lando crosses the finish line, you find yourself cheering as loudly as anyone else. The rush of emotions, once alien to you, now feels like a shared celebration of human achievement and dedication.

Lando is all smiles when he finally finds his way back to you, and he’s giving you a kiss the moment he has you back in his arms; celebrating with the team in the paddock was a whirlwind of emotions. As he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, his big smile is infectious.

So you’re honestly confused when he starts dragging you through the hallways of the club you went to for his celebrations with the rest of the team. The beat of the music playing back in the dancefloor echoes in the hallway as he leads you down the hall. The lights, the laughter, and the energy of the celebrations in the main area of the club are still audible, but you can only hear the muffled sounds of the celebration being held for him. “Lando,” in hopes of finally getting some answers, you say his name for the umpteenth time, but he just looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, “what’s wrong?”

He's silent as he wraps his arms around your waist and before you can repeat your question he buries his head in the crook of your neck. While you’re thinking about what could’ve caused his sudden need to be alone with you, he’s very glad that you’ve opted to wear sneakers tonight instead of heels.

“Baby,” you murmur, your fingers running through his curls in an attempt to bribe him, “tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong.” His voice is muffled by your skin and you can feel the breath he exhales on your shoulder.

You purse your lips and give him a few moments for him to break on his own, but when he doesn’t, you sigh softly. “Something is wrong.”

He raises his head momentarily to give you an unamused look, then bury his head back into your neck, “I saw you and Oscar.”

“Yeah, we were talking about the race.” Your confirmation leaves you confused as he lets out a scoff, and you find yourself warily asking, “Is there something wrong with that?”

You hear him scoff again and then, “Well I didn’t particularly like it.”

You gently push him off of you as you try to look past his confused expression and pouted lips, “You didn’t like me talking to your teammate… about your race.”

“Well when you put it like that–”

“Lando he is two years younger than us, and he has a girlfriend you do realise that, don’t you?” Your hands rest on either side of your body on your hips as you give him a small grin, “You were jealous, weren’t you?”

His eyes widen as he nods, “Well yeah, Tink, I think that one was very much obvious when I dragged you here.”

“I mean,” you drawl, “it was kind of cute, you know?”

As his eyes narrow, Lando walks you backwards until you’re pressed up against the wall. “Well I am a cute person.”

“Oh yeah,” you let out a giggle, “the cutest.” Your fingers toy with the buttons of his shirt while you look up at him to meet his eyes, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That we should probably get back to the party?” He mumbles, his eyes drifting as he looks around the hall.

You fist the collar of his shirt as you raise yourself up on your tiptoes, your voice lowering down for only him to hear even if it’s a deserted hallway, “You don’t have a race tomorrow.”

His eyes come back down to meet yours, “Well yes, it’s Mond– oh,” it takes a moment for him to realise what you’ve meant, and you’re thrown over his shoulder in an instant.

“Wha– Lando put me down!” You shriek, “What are you doing?”

His voice is playful as he starts walking towards the back door of the club, “We are not leaving that hotel room for a few days.”

It doesn’t take long for you to start laughing, “You’re an idiot.”

“Maybe,” he shrugs the opposite shoulder, “but I’m your idiot.”

The sincerity in his words catches you off guard, but you can’t help the small smile forming on your lips as you murmur, “Yeah, yeah you are.”

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #lando norris smut #lando norris fluff

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weird-is-life · 3 months

Text

Don't deny it

Pairing: Rockstar!Sirius Black x fem!reader

Summary: Rockstar!Sirius keeps denying your relationship and you finally have enough

Warnings: angst, fluff, use of pet names, use of y/n, swear words, mentions of head injury, happy ending ofc

Words: 2.4k

You thought, that you've been just imagining it, but as you hear Sirius getting interviewed now, you know, you haven't.

Sirius has been keeping your relationship secret. Like everytime he got interviewed in the last few months, he played it like he was single. No mentions of a girlfriend, meaning no mentions of you.

Like you get it, that the band is really famous and that mentioning your name would kind of make your life a bit more difficult. With less privacy and everything.

But he doesn't have to say your name, he could just admit having a girlfriend. No need to go into details.

And you think, you've finally had enough when you hear him reply to the reporter's question.

"So my last question is for all of the fangirls, is Sirius Black taken?" the reporter chuckles as she asks it.

You hear Sirius laugh too," taken? No, I'm definitely not taken. Still very single, sadly."

You hear him laugh some more, before you turn the interview off. You feel like the dumbest fool.

Obviously, Sirius is too embarrassed of you to even admit he's dating anybody, there can't be any other reason.

And you've definitely had enough of it. Everytime he denies your relationship, you feel like your heart is being ripped out of your chest and stumped on.

You can't go on like this. You don't want to hurt like this anymore. You can't keep hoping that one day, he's going to admit having a girlfriend. You just can't, it pains you too much.

So with that, you decide to ignore Sirius, hoping he'll understand, that you don't want to see him ever again. You know, he shouldn't be home for at least 2 weeks, so hopefully by the time he comes home, you'll move on (too optimistic).

You stop responding to his texts, answering his phone and eventually, you even turn off your phone. You don't give him any explanation, you don't think he deserves one.

Sirius on the other hand is going crazy with worries just after a few hours of radio silence from you. He even calls your best friend to find out if you're okay. Apparently, you are, but you friend refuses to tell him anything more and just hangs up on him.

That doesn't ease his worries at all. He rakes his mind for an answer to what's he done? But nothing comes to his mind.

He tries to contact you again and again, but still, no response. You don't respond even when James or Remus try. So Sirius starts to loose his mind over you.

But he can't leave to go to you, no matter how much he wants to. The band is in the middle of finishing the new album, so he can't just bail on them. He tried it and got yelled by the management pretty badly. Threatening of getting let go by their label if he just leaves.

Sirius becomes completely useless at the studio and the band rehearsals, messing up everything, because his mind is stuck on you.

"Please sweetheart, pick up, please" Sirius whispers brokenly as he once again tries to call you.

You don't pick up and the phone call ends. Sirius throws his phone across the room from the frustration. He slumps onto a sofa and puts his head into his hands in defeat.

He sits there with tears freely running down his cheeks. It's a heartbreaking sight, seeing him so hopeless.

James and Remus find him like that and immediately know, that they have to push him to go see you.

"Go, " James tells him.

"What?" Sirius looks up confused, eyes red.

"Go after her," Remus adds encouragingly.

"But the label....I can't....they'll cut us off-"

"Doesn't matter, we'll just find some other label, there's plenty of them, that want us," James says, maybe a little smugly at the fact, that are are many labels that would kill to have The Marauders.

Sirius looks at them unsurely, "are you guys sure?"

James and Remus groan in frustration, "fucking hell, will you just get out of here, please?" James tells him.

Both Sirius and Remus chuckle, and Sirius quickly gets up. He comes up to the boys and hugs them tightly, squeezing them almost death, until they are pushing him away.

Sirius basically sprints out of the studio. He just grabs all the essentials and runs to the airport. One of the benefits of being famous is the private plane, which he happily uses on his way to you. He gets home in a record time.

The walk through the halls towards your apartment is very nerve-wracking. Sirius doesn't know what to expect, but he certainly doesn't expect all of his stuff, that he's left at your apartment to be sitting outside waiting for him.

"Shit," he curses under his breath and runs a trembling hand through his hair. He can't believe this is happening. He hopes it isn't. He hopes, it's just a nightmare, that he'll soon wake up from. He can't just loose you, he won't survive it, he's sure of that.

Sirius checks under the rug for the spare key and as expected, it isn't there. So Sirius just knocks.

No answer.

He tries again, because he knows you're inside, he can hear the shuffling of things.

"Y/N, please it's me, please open. I-I....can we please talk?" Sirius begs and begs, but you're too stubborn for your own good, you've always been like that, so you don't open.

He knocks and begs, until the neighbours are threatening to call the police on him. Sirius, defeated, sits down with his back to your door.

"Please, love, c-can we just talk?" his tired voice still doesn't break you, but Sirius doesn't give up, " okay, it's okay. I'll wait 'till, you're ready."

And he means it. He makes himself as comfortable as he can on the floor, intending to stay there however long it takes.

You, on the other hand, put on your headphones to ignore Sirius pleads and knocking. You just can't see him right now or anytime soon, your heart is too broken for that.

Even if one part of you wishes to see him and hug him, your body craves the comfort of him. But the rational part of you knows, that'd be too bad for you.

Sirius keeps hiding you and you keep hurting, you can't go on like this, not anymore.

You go to sleep, full of raw emotions, and even if sleep doesn't come easily, eventually you drift off.

In the morning, you wake up just as tired as you were, when you went to bed. And when you open your fridge, you realise, you don't even have anything to eat for breakfast.

You groan internally, you don't feel like going out of your apartment, like at all, but you have to, you can't go on without food.

You put on your most incognito clothes, hoping that you won't meet anyone you know, especially Sirius.

And as you open your door, they suddenly slam wide open, because of some weight pushing against it front the outside.

Said weight, you realise, is Sirius. You yelp in shock, when you see him and look at him bewildered.

Sirius wakes up with a groan. He wasn't thinking of you opening the door, when he first leaned against it. Now he kind of regrets it, as his entire head hurts from hitting it on the floor.

"What the fuck, Sirius?" you whisper yell, you would yell loudly, if it wasn't so early in the morning.

Sirius, upon realising that he can finally see you, stands up quickly. That isn't the best idea though, because his head starts to spin.

"Sweetheart, i-"

"Don't sweetheart me, Sirius. What the hell are you doing here? Have you been here since yesterday?" you question, angrily. You notice, that Sirius looks just as bad as you. Huge eye bags under his eyes, hair dishevelled like crazy.

"Yeah, I told, I'd wait until you were ready to talk," he just replies, giving you a small, hesitant smile.

You don't know, what to say. Your head is full of emotions and you can't decide, which ones are right and which ones aren't.

While you are thinking of what to say to him and glaring at him at the same time, Sirius head starts to spin badly.

"I think, I'm going to pass out," Sirius quickly tells you as he almost tumbles on the ground.

You, without thinking, catch him by the arms.

"W-what's wrong?" you ask a little scared. You find Sirius at your door and suddenly, he's passing out?

"I hit my head..." he mumbles out and hisses as he touches the back of his head.

You sigh, "fuck, okay, c'mon." You help him to your couch and swiftly go to retrieve some ice pack for his head and some water.

You put the ice pack at the back of his head and Sirius winces some more. "Sorry," you whisper.

"It's okay-....I- thank you, sweetheart." Sirius calls you 'sweetheart' again and you want to slap yourself for feeling the butterflies.

You quickly go to the kitchen, so he doesn't see the redness at your cheeks. "Shit," you whisper to yourself, "what am I going to do?"

You've wanted to stay away from Sirius as far away as possible and now he is in your apartment? You don't know if you want to run away, punch him in the face or kiss him stupid.

You stay as long as you can in the kitchen, basically just hiding away from Sirius and you complete forgot about your intention of going to the shop.

Sirius is unusually quiet, so after a longer while you gather all the courage you can to face him, only to find him fast asleep.

You sigh at the sight of his peaceful, asleep face, you quickly throw a blanket over him (before you can think it through) and head out to actually get something to eat, 'cause you're starving.

When you come back, Sirius wakes up at your arrival.

"H-hi, "he says with a groggy, sleepy voice. He smiles at you like nothing has happened, like everything is normal and it makes you suddenly so so angry.

You drop your grocery bags on the ground and quietly, but sternly ask, "you are embarrassed of me, that's why, right?"

Sirius is quickly woken up from his half asleep state by your mad voice and baffles," e-embarrassed? What? Of course, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," you say exasperatedly, you can feel, that your eyes are filling with tears, " you are!"

Sirius stands up slowly, but steadily and comes closer to you, not entirely close, he still wants to give you some space. "I could never be embarrassed of you, y/n, never."

"Then why?" you ask desperately as one tear rolls down your cheek, Sirius's hand itches to wipe it away.

"Why what? I don't understand," Sirius begs for explanation, while he rakes his mind for an answer to his question as well.

"Y-you keep pretending like I don't even exist, like you don't want me!" you try to suppress the little sob, that escapes your mouth. Sirius wants to fucking beat himself up for making you cry, even if he doesn't really know the reason why yet.

"What do you mean?" Sirius asks stupidly and you sob again.

"What? What? What? The fucking interviews Sirius, I mean them," you pretty much yell it to him, the frustration being too much for you.

Sirius finally understands and the realisation hits him like a crushing wave. He didn't know you were feeling this way about them," why didn't you say anything? I thought, you were okay with keeping our relationship private."

"Private yes, but not to the point you are literally chuckling and saying how incredibly single you are," you argue," that's just wrong. But if you want to be single so badly, i won't fight against it."

"No," Sirius blurts out instantly, " I don't want to be single."

"Then what do you want?" you sniffle.

"You. Just only you, nobody else," Sirius is trying to catch your gaze, but you refuse to look at him, "sweetheart, please look at me."

You hesitate, but eventually you look at him. You notice, that tears aren't only on your face.

"Have you been feeling like this for a long time?" Sirius questions and you nod, he curses under his breath.

"I'm so sorry, i didn't notice. Shit, I'm such an idiot, " he starts and without thinking he takes a few steps closer to you," I'm sorry, angel. If I knew, you were feeling this way, I would have never ever continued denying our relationship. Fuck, It was killing me to stay quiet about us, I wanted to tell them everything about you. Please believe me."

You stay quiet and your sobs slowly start to go away. Sirius waits for you to say something, anything really.

"N-not everything please," you whisper. You can't stay mad at your Sirius long, even if you'd really want to sometimes. It's just not possible to be angry with him, especially when he loves you so much.

"What was that?" Sirius doesn't catch it.

"Don't tell them everything about me please," you tell him as you, after a few days, smile. Truly smile.

Sirius takes it as a permission to finally touch you. He has you in his arms in a matter of seconds, squeezing you oh so tightly, while he laughs happily.

"Does this mean, t-that I am forgiven?" he asks you unsurely, as he reluctantly eases you out of his tight embrace.

"Maybe," you grin at him

"Maybe? What do I have to do to get a yes, huh lovely?" Sirius softly asks, he takes your cheeks into his hands and gently wipes the tears away.

"You could kiss me, you know," you say with a sheepish smile. You look too cute, cheeks red and puffy, for Sirius to say no to you. As if he would every deny you a kiss or anything else for that matter.

He instantly leans it and kisses you, it's soft and maybe a little desperate kiss, but it doesn't matter to you or him.

You let him kiss you as long as you manage without breathing, even if you know there're still things to talk about. You'll talk about it, just later, after you get enough kisses.

#rockstar!sirius #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black angst #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year

Note

So request kinda if not just sharing my thoughts in general.

Alex. My boy. What if reader is a civ or even another soldier in a different squad and the whole thing with him joining Farah’s forces indefinitely. I think this can really lend itself to some angst and that good old misunderstanding. Kinda leaning towards civ!reader just because the more miscommunication. I guess it’d have to be an angsty ending though 😳, but regardless-

Love your writing and, as always, feel free to change anything or do whatever gives you the most inspiration

World Caves In

PAIRING: Alex Keller x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Perhaps it would have been better if your husband had died - at the very least you could understand that.

WORD COUNT: 7.9k

WARNINGS: Angst, misunderstandings/miscommunication, hurt/comfort, vulgar language, abandonment?, Alex being an adorable husband, fluff, etc.

A/N: I was gonna make this an angsty ending but I got my period and thinking about that made me cry so here we are, lmao. Enjoy, Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

When you’d been escorted out of work by two uniformed men, you knew the news wasn’t going to be good. Sitting in the back of a large black car, you spare nervous glances as the vehicle jumps, its wheels going over the last speed bump. Your work building begins to become a fraction of a memory and disappears faster than your resolve.

The men sit on either side of you, silent, and the only comment is to the driver as you all enter the main road. Swallowing, you part your lips and mutter, plain dread in your tone, “Is he alive?”

All you get is a glance from the front mirror and nothing more. You hunch more in your seat and stew in agony, mind far off on the topic of your husband.

Alex wasn’t overly reckless, you’d managed to snuff most of that out over the course of the many years you’d expressed concern to him about it, but a large chuck of the blond was still too selfless for his own good. It was hard not to think the worst.

From training to advising, your husband was always off on one mission to another, far from your quaint and quiet home here—where you waited day after day for even a sliver of contact from him. Alex specialized in so many things that trying to wrap your head around it was impossible.

Even now, you only knew the bare minimum.

The soft-smiled man worked in the SAD division of the CIA. He’s an Operations Officer. Currently, he’s somewhere across the globe.

Away from you.

Thinning your lips, you take down a deep breath and settle back into the seat, pulse flying. The men were obviously Agents—you’d looked closely at their badges when they’d first shown their faces at the front desk and had kept within view of your work’s security cameras just in case this was a ruse. When you could find nothing out of the ordinary, you had tensely asked them what was happening.

They would be holding his dog tags if he was dead, you had reasoned, desperately, a flag.

It was frantic, the way you had thought that up; how could you not be like that? Alex was the light of your life! With him constantly putting his life on the line, it was inevitable for him to get hurt, sometimes seriously. It was ingrained into your mind the way you would help clean his wounds in the middle of the night when the pain woke him up with a grunt stuck in his throat. The way you would sit half-asleep in his lap and re-wrap bandages while he told you to go back to bed half-heartedly. His hands drifting over your warm skin like he was cascading his fingers up and down the spine of an old book.

You never listened.

“It’s late, Bug, I can’t keep you up like this.” His drawl echoes in your ear as you rub a heavy palm into your eye. Alex’s hands are both on your hips, squeezing the flesh just below your tiny sleep shorts. You have him sitting on the floor, back resting on the wall and shirt discarded to the side only wearing loose gray sweatpants. A long cut up his left pec is the center of your blurry attention—a wet rag held as you dab at it. Blue eyes narrow at you. “I’m just fine with doing it myself, y’know.”

“You’re being stubborn again,” you utter, the soft light of the bathroom placed at half-capacity to at least try and keep some of the veil of sleep over your heads. “I told you to wake me up when you needed it cleaned.” Your skin brushes his and Alex shivers under you, sighing breathily. “And you’re not keeping me here—I’m helping.”

A small flash of that full smile, mustache flinching up, “Well when you look so pretty sleepin’ I can’t just shake you awake and tell you to fix me up.”

You take your free hand and pinch his nose, yawning as he grunts out chuckles. A delicate glance is thrown his way as the rag lowers from reddened skin. Like a butterfly's whisper, you study his face gently; reaching and cupping his cheek with your palm.

Alex’s lids flutter, heavy weight falling into you as if waiting for this—lips pressing to your inner wrist in reverence. You hold back a tired giggle and feel the corner of his mouth pull up when he feels it.

“All that talk, and yet,” pressing a smooch to his forehead you take your hand back and hear the grumble he lets out after, “you still like it better when I’m the one that’s working on you.”

“Can’t complain too much,” he admits slowly as his head leans back to tap the wall, “my wife’s hands are way softer than mine.”

Alex’s grip on your flesh tightens when you sipe away the last line of crimson from the wound, tattooed arms flexing.

“Sorry,” you whisper, watching his eyes slightly awash with pain. “Got caught on a stitch.”

“Ah, well,” the blond sighs, shifting “I suppose I can forgive you.”

Laughing quietly as the house settles, you shake your head and rest your forehead on his.

“Such a saint,” your lips utter teasingly as Alex smiles wide, his hands moving higher to your waist. You lean into him, stealing his warmth as your tired eyes flutter; feeling his thumbs run circles over the flesh of your lower spine.

A content breath escapes you.

“Go back to bed, Sweetheart,” Alex whispers, lips brushing yours like silk, the bristles of his facial hair tickling you. “I can do the rest, promise.”

“Know you can,” your mutterings are barely heard, but the man seems to register them, sea-glass gaze incredibly soft. He chuckles at your sleepiness, one hand leaving your waist to capture the back of your head; weaving into your hair and gently massaging your scalp. You practically melt into him, limbs going slack, slurring out, “Quit it. Wanna help, Alex.”

His laughter shakes you, and with a huff escaping, you bury your burning face into his neck and lean into him, careful of his wound even in your fatigued state.

“No offense, Bug,” Alex shifts, grunting as he easily maneuvers you until you’re laying in his arms, inked forearms under your knees and behind your shoulders with vivid images of grim reapers, snakes, and angels guarding you close. A kiss is firmly pressed to your forehead as the blonde smirks downwards, “But you’re about as helpful to me right now as an empty mag.”

You grumble, trying to disappear into his skin and letting him dig his stubble into your cheek.

“If you bring me back to bed before you’re done,” you yawn and close your eyes, “I’m divorcing you.”

He laughs deeply into your ear, body shaking as he pulls back and sends you an incredulous look.

“Hell, we can’t have that, can we, Mrs. Keller? I’d lose my damn mind.”

It’s a long drive, and you worry through the entirety of it. A primal, whole-body-shaking type of fear. You’d built a life with Alex and loved him more than anything or anyone that had come before. Even if he was gone a lot, that had never dulled what the two of you had—your marriage was nothing short of something you would find in a fairy tale; flashing pictures on pages with vivid colors and tender glances. The very cover itself is made of the finest leather and inlaid with gold calligraphy.

Please, Alex, you plead in your head as you remember his loving gaze—his back as he makes supper in the kitchen and hums to himself. Please be okay.

The men hold open the car door when it comes to a stop outside a very obviously abandoned apartment complex near the outskirts of town. You get out quickly. Looking around, you take in the overgrown grass and the broken concrete with a knife in your lung; holding back the flood of anxious tears.

Though, confusion takes president.

“Where did you…?” You turn to look at the Agents, but they’re already clambering back into their car and snapping the doors shut. Wide-eyed and slack-jawed you watch them speed off as a cloud of dust drifts into the air.

Pulse echoing in your ears, you watch the vehicle speed down the road and disappear.

Swallowing, you whisper, “What the actual fuck?” Turning in circles, no one else is around. A part of you starts to worry less for Alex and more for yourself.

They were CIA, you reiterate, I checked their badges—Alex showed me the standard ones. Could I have missed something?

Expression nervous, you shift on your feet before your stuttering legs take you closer to the abandoned building, not really seeing much choice here. You could imagine the scene from The Wizard Of Oz—when the man pulls back the curtain and all is revealed.

That said, you could really only hope that was what was actually happening to you and you weren't getting kidnapped or shot. Taking a deep breath, you clench your fists and enter the building through the open front door.

It was in the wide lobby that you locked eyes with Kate Laswell. You blank, mouth parting as the scent of concrete and decaying furniture get stuck in your nose.

The woman seems highly agitated, brows tight and jaw clenched. Her white blouse had been flattened multiple times by rough hands, lanyard swaying on her neck like Alex’s dog tags would. She holds a file in her hands; the paper bulky as if holding something more than just paper inside its manila clutches.

“Kate?” You ask, confused, “What are you doing here? What’s all of this about?” Taking quick steps forward you splay your hands as your voice grows more serious. “Where’s my damn husband?”

You didn’t know Laswell personally, in fact, when you had first got a glimpse of her here, you’d forgotten the older woman’s name for a moment. The first meeting between the two of you had been at a CIA get-together that Alex had been forced to go to because of his position—some celebration because a group of ICBMs had been taken back into US hands after being stolen. Your husband had introduced you to the Station Chief over a drink with a hand on the small of your back.

But it didn’t stop you now from talking to her like you’d known her for years. Not when fear was flooding your veins.

“What the hell is going on?” You say harshly, glancing around the room for any sight of someone else here.

Kate sighs heavily but wastes no time in speaking, her professional tone and serious face leaving your already fast-paced heart racing.

“Alex isn’t coming back to the United States.” Your eyes blank, staring into icy blue. She holds out her manila folder, jaw tight. Blunt. “He’s a deserter.”

It’s like your entire being halts; your skin suit feels as if it’s sagging on your bones with the weight of a cinder block connected by hooks to the floor.

What did she just say?

Opening and closing your mouth you stutter, lids blinking rapidly.

“I…” Fingers flinching in the air, an exhalation from your nose sounds more like a wheeze. Kate watches stiffly, taking a look at the floor before returning her attention to you; emotion flashes in her eyes. “...W-what?”

“Keller deserted his post—I tried to speak with the Colonel but there’s only so much I can do.” Laswell takes a deep breath as you continue to go through shock. Alex wasn’t coming home? How, why? “He’s staying in Urzikstan to fight with the Liberation Force.”

“Urzikstan?!” You gape, but the woman continues.

“For all intents and purposes, I shouldn’t be here, but Alex asked me personally to hand these to you.” Again the manilla folder is shown to you, but when you only glare and fight the fear and confusion rampaging in your gut a sigh echoes out and it’s placed on a termite-eaten side table. “Even communicating with you could put you in danger now that he’s gotten on the bad side of the entire SAD and CIA branches. This is all I can do.”

“What the fuck,” you whisper to yourself, hand coming up to capture your mouth.

“If Alex re-enters the states—he’ll be arrested and tried in a court of law. If he’s not shot on sight for what he knows.” Kate watches you closely, shaking her head in pity. “I’m sorry,” there’s a strained pause, “but he’s made his decision.”

As she brushes past you, leaving the folder on the side table, you feel your wide eyes well with tears—confused and horrified. But he’s coming back to me, right? Alex…Alex wouldn’t leave me here alone.

It was common knowledge that over the last years the blond had gotten more agitated at his line of work; the orders that he didn’t want to follow but had no choice. No voice. But he can’t just abandon you...could he? You’d taken vows. Had a happy marriage and relationship. Loved each other.

He can’t just…he can’t…

Your hands shake and you’re unable to stop them, gaze locked on that unassuming manilla folder. Kate pauses in the doorway, peeking back and seeing your sickly-looking face, the agony written in the lines of your forehead. Like the picture of a loyal wife being told her husband was never coming home. And Alex wasn’t even dead. Resentment begins to burn.

But he made his bed.

“He told me to tell you that he wouldn’t be angry if you wanted to leave him,” was all she said, a final knife being stabbed into your heart and being ripped out like a live wire. Electricity makes your back go stiff in an instant. “It would be best to never tell anyone that we met.”

You were alone, full body shivers and bile stuck in the back of your throat. Cold sweat coats your palms, a sticky mess of your barebones disturbance.

“He…” your voice is hoarse, bouncing off the far walls. “Alex left me here? He left me.”

It was easier to say that the sun had exploded and you were waiting for the last beam of light to incinerate you. Inside of your skull your brain pounds as, in a mad dash of desperation, you rush to the manilla folder and rip it open with vibrating arms.

Having Laswell tell you that Alex wouldn’t be mad if you…if you…the hairs on the back of your neck rise and suddenly you’re angry beyond a sliver of a doubt. It was insulting.

“Alex fucking Keller,” the paper opens to the bulk of your husband's dog tags and a flip phone—reports like his own personal file and the patch that he had once worn so proudly on his combat vest. Red, white, and blue dig into your retinas; it was old, worn beyond measure, but that little patch was something that was never removed. Not even to be cleaned.

“The dirtier it is,” Alex had commented on the American flag patch when you’d offered to mend it for him, cringing at all the blood stains and dirt flecking off it as he slipped his vest off in the foyer of your home. “The luckier I am.”

“I think the stench of it alone will frighten off anyone who comes near,” you had raised a brow, smirking up at him as he walked over, laughing. A kiss is placed on your lips, Alex’s bright smile transferring over to you as if able to spread from his mouth to yours that simply. You sigh dreamily.

He pulls back with a tiny wink as you gaze up at him, cheekily stating, “That’s the plan, Sweet Thing. Gotta make sure I come home to you in one piece.”

You brush your hands over it and think that maybe it would have been better if he had died. Then you could understand why he’s doing this to you. Anger spreads into rage.

Looking next at the phone and dog tags, all you do is shake your head and slam the folder shut, bitter tears tracking your face. You can’t read anything—can’t see his name imprinted on that metal that used to press coldly into your skin as you both slept in bed. You don’t care about the phone or the files.

None of it mattered.

“He fucking left me here,” it’s like you’re a broken record replaying over and over again. “You absolute bastard, Keller!” Yelling, you press your fingers into your face, hands spreading over your eyes and mouth to muffle your enraged sobs.

“You’re still alive and you left me alone.”

Only the abandoned building echoes your pain; replaying it back over and over again as your wails echo around the lobby like a symphony of laughing jesters.

—

The phone that Laswell had given you had been going off at least three times every day—morning, noon, and at night. You had stared at it with fury, knowing exactly who was calling even if the thing was displaying an unknown number. By now you had steeped in your anger enough that you had found yourself snapping at friends and family alike when asked if you were alright.

You wished Alex was here so you could hit him upside the head for being so stupid. So you could hate him until you had the pleasure to love him again.

Urzikstan.

You’d looked up the country after you had spent two days straight in bed, afterward manically cleaning the house with a glare that could light fires. The far-off place was a land utterly divided by war. Russian occupation, a terrorist group; the force that your husband had joined. Mass against mass against mass.

Brick meets wall.

And Alex had chosen to stay—without a doubt because he’d seen the dire situation and had used that damnable good heart of his to empathize to the max. Forget donations, humanitarian work, or anything else, the man had fucking decided to join in a Liberation Force.

As much as you wanted to say you hated him; had wanted to slam your gold wedding band to the table with a good riddance for betraying you like that…you still had his dog tags around your neck, and the ring was still on your finger.

“Too good for his own sake,” you grumble, shoving dirty clothes into the washer like they had tried to attack you. “Deserted the fucking CIA, Jesus Alex. Do you even think when I’m not around?”

There were only so many times you could curse his name until you felt a deceiving needle of pride slither itself into your skull. You could describe Alex as many things but he would always be steadfast in causes that truly needed his help. He often told you that the best missions were the ones where he could do so much more than take out a target—he strived to help the individuals he met. Form bonds.

God forbid something came in between the blond and the ones he’d chosen to give his loyalty to.

You slam the washer shut and stomp into the living room after starting another cycle. Stress cleaning was really not a good look on you—the entire house was without a single spec of dust but you yourself felt like you’d run seven marathons. Clenching your teeth, you go and drop to the couch, a grunt falling from your lips as your head hits the pillow.

Staring at the ceiling, you finally take in the utter silence of the house—not a home, because it could only be that if Alex was here—with a pained crease forming on your brow. The pipes spit water, and the washer grunted its mechanical garble…but there was no humming man making food in the kitchen. No blond hair visible as a head rests on your chest; your fingers playing in the locks that act like silk as you part them, the man on top of you purring. Body a weighted blanket.

“Was it really that easy,” you whisper to nothing, lip quivering. “Was it really that easy to stay away, Alex? I thought…I…”

Eyes wrenching shut, you hear the phone right at noon again as it sits on the coffee table. And you let it.

There were voicemails, no doubt, but you hadn’t thought to listen to those either. This small act of rebellion was all you could act on but for the simple fact that it also harmed you. Barbed wire steadily digging deeper as it kept your hands wound to your sides—neck plastered to the pillow as bright silver spikes glinted. You stare at the unknown caller who really wasn’t all that unknown and watch the screen light, vibrating over the wood in steady intervals.

What hurt the most was that if he’d asked you to come along—become an Expat just for him—you would have said yes. You could find a new job, a new place to call home. Humanitarian work would have been at the top of your list and Alex…well….he would still be fighting, just as he always had.

But at the very least you would have been there to clean his wounds. Together. You’d both promised on that altar to do nothing less. He could’ve asked. He should have asked.

Alex…

“Urzikstan,” you mutter for what seems like the fiftieth time. When the ringing stops a few moments later the new voicemail icon flashes. Placing your arm over your mouth, you clench your hand so tight it starts to shake, whispering into your skin, “Fine. I guess you did make your bed. And…and I won't be there to lie in it with you.” No matter how much I want to.

You slip the wedding band off of your finger and place it beside the phone before turning and burying your head into the cushions; feeling more numb than you ever had before.

—

It carried on like this for three months. The ring didn’t move from the coffee table and neither did the flip phone; the file had all but been tossed in the trash as it sat teetering on the living room desk. You carried on as well as you could, all things considered.

Work was a blur, going out with friends even harder to enjoy, and any enjoyment of hobbies or activities was dulled to an almost gray existence. Like a ghost, you wafted through experiences with dog tags and a withering appearance. Eventually, you just stopped going out unless it couldn’t be helped. You still bought meals for two at the grocery store out of habit. You placed blankets where Alex used to sleep beside you. You went to work.

And still, the calls never stopped except for a brief pause after the first month. You’d thought he’d finally given up, but no. Back at it.

It had gotten to a point now where the device was automatically deleting all recent voicemails—too little space in the inbox.

Angry curiosity was tempting you. It would be easy, you reason, to simply play the first message and listen. The worst part of it was that you’d begun to forget Alex’s voice and perhaps that was why, on that dead-aired Saturday, you snatched the phone and brought it into the kitchen.

Firmly planting it on the counter, you stand behind one of the island chairs and glare, hands tapping into the wood.

“I’m giving you three minutes, Alex,” you speak as if he’s still here, as if his form stands right behind you, head tilted like a damn dog with that infectious smile and those sea-glass eyes. “Three minutes,” your fingers snap the device open and you go to your voicemails; jaw tight, “and if you don’t hear you groveling, Keller, I’m deleting all of them and chucking this phone into the sink.”

You go down the line to the very first message, small buttons clicking, and before you can stop yourself you press play.

It begins with a small moment of silence. A cough.

“Hey,” he says your first name, not one of your epithets. Your brows deepen their annoyed furrow, but you can’t help the uptick in your heart rate. Inside your flesh, the sinews of your throat close in on itself like a balloon. “I…I’m guessin’ I have a good enough ass-kicking waiting for me since you didn’t answer.” A strained laugh before another pause. You feel acidic tears boil behind your lids. “I’m not surprised—not really. Done some stupid things but never something like this.” You can hear him shake his head, voice going lower in defiance. “But they were asking me to leave Urzikstan in a worse place than when I entered it. This Liberation Force, Bug, it…they’re good people and what they’re asking me to do…” Alex huffs, growling under his throat. “I can’t stand by that. The man you chose to marry, he can’t stand by that. They need me here. I’m not asking you to not be angry—to not hate me for this. I know I damn well deserve it.”

You let your tears hit the counter, head slightly bowing over. That was your Alex.

“You need a leash,” your strained voice hits the walls, bouncing off picture frames and your husband's cooking utensils. The small pieces that make up the whole picture frame of your life. “God,” you huff wetly, “you’re going to get yourself killed.”

“I know I should have talked to you first, figured out some plan. But, uh,” Alex’s throat gets choked up, and you snap a hand to your mouth when you realize he’s close to tears. He clears his throat. “Hell, I should have done a lot of things, Sweetheart.”

You can hear shouts in the background, calls in Arabic. The pounding of a door and a woman’s voice.

“Alex, we need to move! Everyone is ready—Barkov’s lab cannot be left standing a moment longer.” The hurried hand to the line muffles the words, but you hear him anyway.

“Affirmative!” He comes back. “I don’t have time to explain more, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for… everything. I’d understand if you don’t use the passport Laswell’ll give you, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to stop calling.” Alex laughs and your face freezes.

“Passport?”

“What kind of Husband would I be if I just let the most perfect woman in the world go without a fight, huh? I’ll be waiting until you call to tell me to shut the hell up and leave you alone or that you’re down in the airport waiting.” There’s a large sound of combat vests being clicked on—pistols being situated into holsters and a rifle strap slipped over a chest. Alex suddenly pauses and you stare at the phone blankly. “I know this is a big ask, Doll, and I know I’m horrible for even springin’ this on you when I’m half a world away from our bed. But I had to try, even if it was selfish. I just…I just really need to hear your voice telling me if I’m an idiot or not for thinking this up. Call me back soon…or when you run out of my clothes to burn in the firepit out back…I love you, okay? More…more than anything.”

There’s a minute or two of nothing, just Alex’s ragged breathing, and then there’s an older man’s voice ordering him to hurry up. The line clicks.

Your ears ring as it does, wide eyes dripping tears from your bottom lashes as your lungs chill over. Hand slowly flinching out, you ghost over the keys before clicking on the following voicemail. As it plays, your feet start to take you backward at a snail's pace, your spine flattering against the wall as blood drains to your feet.

“Hey, it’s me again. I still haven’t heard from you—that’s alright. Take your time.” Steadying yourself with a hand, you look out of the kitchen and get a glimpse of the manila folder on the desk, its tan hide sucking you in. Pulse in your throat, you rush out to grab it as Alex’s voice echoes. “I know Laswell gave you the file, I trust her that much at least.” A sigh. “But even if it’s just to yell at me, please pick up the phone soon. Let me save some of my dignity and give me a chance to beg on an open line, huh, Sweetheart…? But I guess that’s all—gotta go. I love you.”

You don’t play the next message because you’re ripping open the file with rabid hands, seeing exactly as you had when Laswell left it for you. Alex’s mission report; his patch. The dog tags around your neck clink together like a song, some brutal rhythm.

“Passport?” Grasping the mission report you pick it up, flipping through the multiple pages of blacked-out words and more confused than ever. “Airport?”

The words come out as whimpers, hands so shaky that the pages slip from your fingers. They slam to the floor in a flurry of bond paper and you curse loudly, snatching for the remnants futilely. Grasping on your hands and knees hitches build in your breath as your fingers dance rapidly before they slip across something distinctly not paper.

Small, tiny, and blue. Laminate.

Your very blood seems to stop in your veins. Pushing back one last piece of paper, you come face to face with a singular American passport. Gasping down mute breaths and licking your lips, you pick it up lightly, leaning back on your legs as if you’d just slammed your head into the concrete.

“Alex…” you whisper to no one.

Flipping the hard cover open, a small, palm-sized piece of paper slips out to your lap as your own face stares at you in image form. You blink for a moment before going to take the note and separate the ends. Formal script is inside, stiff lettering. Not your husband's handwriting, but you didn’t have to guess who’d written out these directions for you.

Laswell.

There was a destination in fountain pen ink—an airport near the Urzikstanian and Georgian border. Seeing as Urzikstan was on the travel-ban list due to the turbulence of the government and terrorist threats, you wouldn’t be able to get there directly.

But you supposed Kate had your back for that too.

Georgian safehouse - wait for Keller there. It’s secure. More directions and then a small gap. A pause. Good luck.

You don’t know how long you stare at that paper—that passport. The first thing you think about is how could Alex ask you to do this. Uproot yourself with the snap of a finger. You wouldn’t be able to bring anything beyond what could fit in a few suitcases. No furniture, no large amount of clothes, or even sentimental items. You’d have to quit your job; leave behind family and friends to travel to a war-torn country.

But he’d said it was your choice, and he wouldn’t push you to make it. He’d said you could leave him if you wanted—keep all of this that you’d built here.

…But you’d built it together, hadn’t you?

You think of Alex’s bright smile and his mustache. His tattoos. How he’d hold you so tight in the long hours of sleep that you half-believed he thought you’d disappear if he didn’t; nuzzling his nose into the back of your head and grumbling out nonsense. The way you could trace his scars and watch as he willingly submitted to your praise, delicate lips curving into sheepish grins as you place soft kisses on the raised skin. Red cheeks.

This place wasn’t a home without Alex in it.

You look over at the coffee table and lock onto the gold of your wedding band.

—

Getting into Georgia was a long affair of paperwork and screenings—not days but months of legal jargon that Alex had dodged entirely because of his desertion. By the time you’d landed in country, you were wholly exhausted down to the very marrow of your bones. You get through the checkpoints, pick up your bags, and look out at the entirely new world outside of the airport’s windows.

“Okay,” you swallow saliva and nod carefully before looking down at Laswell’s directions to the safehouse.

You slip the paper into your pocket after memorizing the address, tips of your fingers brushing the smooth surface of the flip phone. Clenching your eyes shut, you take your hand back out and go to try and hire a driver. You were here, but that doesn’t mean all of this was forgiven.

After you find someone able to drive you to where you need to go, you end up standing with a quaint hostel ahead of you, home far behind. Gazing slightly nervous at the strange place you’ve found yourself, you think of Alex’s hand on the small of your back and sigh; caressing the cool metal of the ring around your finger.

Walking forward, you hitch your bags over your shoulders and grit your teeth against the hot sun. When you meet the owner at the front desk you state your name and ask for a bed.

The man’s eyes widen for a moment before he looks at something on his countertop, raising a brow in thought. Grabbing at a stack of papers he holds up a finger and begins digging. Too tired and overwhelmed to ask what was wrong, you just watch and rub at your face.

“Ah,” the man snaps his fingers and laughs to himself, “here it is! I knew I had placed the note somewhere, Mrs. Keller.” You blink, confused, but the man just takes a key from the wall and motions for you to follow. Sparing a glance around for a moment, you slowly slink after, not really having a choice.

“I remember your Husband coming to me—the blond with the tattoos.” The owner looks back, making sure you’re following. He motions to his right side with splayed fingers. “Scars on the side of his head, to reserve a room.”

Alex was here? How much had he done already pertaining to the chance that you would show up?

“Y-yeah,” you chuckle stiffly, “that was him. Sorry for being so long I was…preoccupied.”

“You’re lucky he kept up on payments,” the man grumbles, opening a door with the key and motioning you inside. “My pleasure to finally have you, regardless.”

Entering the small and sparse room, you take the key from him with a thankful smile and a quick thank you before he closes the door. As the barrier thuds, you sway on your feet. Blinking. Breathing hard. You drop all of your bags with a heavy thump that echoes off the walls in a single instant. Heart pounding at everything that was striking you in an instant, you walk slowly back to the bed. You don’t bother to take a shower or brush your teeth; even change.

You fall down on the mattress and pray you don’t have to dream about Alex sending money to this place every week simply on a suffocating hope that you’d come back to him. You pray you don’t dream at all.

The phone wakes you up only thirty minutes later.

Groaning, you shift your body so your hand can snake into your pocket, grasping it and tossing it to the pillow beside your head. You’d never made it through all of the voicemails without crying, so you just deleted all of them and let the inbox fill back up again.

Feeling the dog tags press against your chest as you form your chest into the bed, you shove your head downward and listen to it ring.

Bring-bring, bring-bring, bring-bring

It happens in a flurry of a sleep-addled mind and a horrible desperation to see your husband after nearly a full year of no contact. You flip it open and answer with your nose pressed deeply into the pillow below you. Ears straining and pulse running like a starving cat after a mouse.

Dead silence.

“...Sweetheart…?” It’s pitiful how fast the tears flood you at Alex’s shocked and tiny voice. Tight breathing sounds over the line from his end and your other hand digs into your scalp. A small, cut-off laugh. “Hey…I—”

You hang up with a vicious slam of the screen and let the silence settle again. People walk the hall; the sun dims as night sets in. This isn’t home. Dropping the phone back down to the pillow you curl into a tight ball and cry yourself back to sleep.

If you had to guess, you’d say the small curse was what woke you for the second time, though you didn’t register it until minutes later. That muffled ‘shit’ as a foot hits your dropped bags near the door. But then it’s silent again and your ears only twitch to the gentle sigh that brushes against your face; a thumb and forefinger caressing your cheek as hair is placed back over your ear.

Perhaps the only reason at all as to why you don’t wake up screaming bloody murder is because of his calluses. They burn your flesh as they slide over it—as ingrained into your very being as your own heart is. As if Alex’s touch was another organ that was needed to survive. More important than a liver or a spleen.

When your eyes slip open he’s leaning back in a chair he had turned to face you, built form shifting as the rickety wood creaks. No more than five feet away sits your husband, and all you do is suck in a tight breath and lock gazes with soft sea glass.

Alex freezes at the same time, strong brow line peeling back and mustache stiff as his lips immediately thin. You both stare for a good while, a thread of tension entering the air. The night deepens.

He speaks first, in the dense hours of confrontation. Your heart feels like it’s been stuck with a spear, vignette at the sides of your vision, and a blooming center of only Alex’s body and his messy hair. The scarf around his neck. The combat vest.

Had he driven all this way to see if you were here? Because you’d answered the phone? But you hadn’t even said anything. Your head stays on the pillow, wondering if you were hallucinating.

“Hey,” Alex forces a chuff before he glances away, nervous arms crossed. “Hey there, Doll. Sorry that I woke you. I…ah,” your eyes bore into him, hand on the sheets slowly clenching into a fist. “I figured there was an off chance you would be here.” He clears his voice, throat closing on a trying laugh. “Guess I’m glad I looked. You should remember to lock your door, by the way.”

At the sight of your rising glare, his tone drops, expression falling even more than it already was. Deep well of sadness grew in his eyes, lips pulling back in a strained agony.

Alex’s gaze drops to the floor.

“I know,” is what hits the air, “I know, Sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it,” you push your body up as his large shoulders tighten—such an accomplished and strong man brought to a squirming heap when his wife’s sharp words hit him in the chest. “What the hell were you thinking, Alex?!”

Heavy feet hit the floor as you stalk over, fatigue and tiredness pushed all the way to the back of your mind yet also enhancing your emotions. Bitter rage was sparking—held in far too long. Alex’s eyes don’t meet yours, so you grab him by the chin and angle his head up to you.

At the sight of your red sclera and the baggy gaze he stills. Under your grip his beard tickles you, the soft grip of flesh that makes you want to wrap your arms over him and weep; make him promise to never leave like that again.

“I…I wasn’t…”

“That’s the thing isn’t it—you didn’t think.” Sea glass floods over, going glossy; hurt etched into both of your faces as if carved from the same stone. But you don’t stop now, growling out as your skin burns. Alex isn’t sad that you’re angry, he’s sad he’s done this to you. “You disappeared, Alex. Laswell had to just drop all of this shit on me. I thought you had died.” You growl. “Do you know what that feels like?!”

“Sweetheart—”

“Shut up! You let me talk,” he falls silent, hand delicately coming up to grab your wrist. Not to pull you away, just to hold you. To feel your skin and the heat of it. You sniffle and his eyes break. “And the worst part of it was that if you had just asked I would have followed you right then and there.” Alex sharply looks back at you. “But the biggest insult was that you thought I would leave you—that you even considered that.”

Shock slowly gives way to a blank expression. He was confused, now.

Was that what you were angry about?

“You’re an idiot, Keller. Hot-headed. Cocky.” You shake your head, but a tiny smile begins to bleed onto Alex’s face. Watching you like you’d just sprung a million dollars on him. His grip slightly squeezes, calloused thumb running the span of your knuckles as you shake his head with your hand. “Damn nuisance to my health, is what you are.” Trying to remain angry is tough when he’s looking at you like that—starstruck—but you spit out, “It’s insulting that you thought I’d just give up on us that easily.”

“Most women don’t want a man who’s wanted for desertion, Doll,” Alex whispers, testing a smirk on his lips with his expression still strained.

“Arrogant!” your voice snaps. “Not a single brain cell in his stupid little head.” You let go of his chin and grip the sides of his skull, feeling the dirty but still soft strands of hair before you huff at him.

But he just looks at you and smiles, face smooshed.

“...You really came?” Alex asks quietly. You fall silent and after a moment you deflate.

After the silence of trying to keep the sneer on your face, you let it drop, lips quivering slightly. Anger glints with pain. “I should hit you upside the head, Keller, for all the worry you’ve put me through,” you grunt, eyes flashing over every new bruise on his face—every cut you’d have to re-learn. He looks tired.

Oh, Alex…

Before the blond can respond to you, you’ve captured the back of his head and shoved it into your chest; face burying itself into his scalp to bring forth that scent of dust and cologne. You whimper out as he grips you around the waist with just as much fervor, “Did you think that I would stay away?”

Alex says nothing, only the slight tremor in his bicep betraying him. You firmly kiss his skull and run your fingers through his hair, the both of you so tight together there’s barely enough room in your ribs to allow your lungs to inflate.

But holding him was more important than air, a sentiment that Alex seemed to share entirely.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Bug.” He mutters into your skin. “Feels good to be able to hold my girl again.”

You stay like that for a long time before you pull back and capture his cheeks, face pulling closer before you kiss him deeply. It’s not a fast-paced or desperate thing—no clashing teeth or tongue. That wasn’t what you needed right now.

All that you needed was Alex. Your home.

You both separate and the blond grabs the back of your neck, forcing you back so he can lay another on the side of your mouth; nose, cheek. Anywhere that he could reach as his mustache tickled you to a smile. Giggles worm out and you wiggle out of his grip to wipe at your cheeks, spreading away tiny tear tracks and saliva.

“Quit it,” you whisper, and Alex gazes up at you reverently from his chair.

“Negative, Ma’am,” he says, equally as soft, not even blinking. “Don’t wanna.” You roll your eyes, face hot.

The seconds draw long of only watching one another before you shake your head and move your hands to shimmy out of the dog tags around your neck. Alex’s gaze locks on the metal swiftly, smile shifting.

“You’re horrible.” You huff, quietly, before shoving his dog tags at his chest. “Now put them back on.”

“But I’m not in the—” Your glare shuts him up. Alex clears his throat sheepishly. “Yes, Ma’am.”

You nod and watch as they’re resituated around his neck. Right where they should be. When you take a step back to really take him in, there’s a moment where you skim over the state of his left leg. After all, the metal was barely noticeable in the dark. But when you do see it every little part of you shrivels up with confused pain.

Alex stands with a noticeable preference to his right and as he towers over you, fingers coming to grab at your face and slowly drag it back up.

A slightly apologetic look washes over him.

“I’m guessing you didn’t listen to all of the voicemails.”

“Alex…” you slowly cut off. “You…” Staring at the metal limb instead of the real one, you gape. “...how?”

“Y’know,” he laughs, but you don’t find this funny. He notices and kisses your forehead, tapping his scalp to yours and saying after a contemplative pause, “I think it’s better if I don’t explain it. I’m alright, just...” Alex smiles cheekily, the spark that you love coming back easily as it shimmers in his eyes, “just a little more carbon fiber and aluminum than I was before.”

You hug him tightly.

“I’m sorry, I should have come sooner—I was just angry, and I wasn’t—”

“Don’t apologize to me,” Alex sighs, grabbing you and maneuvering the both of you to the bed. He sits and you end up laying in his lap like that moment in the bathroom ages ago. “None of this is your fault, okay? You deserve to be angry. I shouldn’t have put such a burden on you.”

You sigh in his arms, head under his chin and heart finally able to return to a steady pace. Licking your lips, you ask, “Does it hurt?”

Sending a glance down, Alex’s lips twitch with a grin before it disappears. He hums.

“Sometimes.” Your hand grips his opposite cheek and you lay a kiss on his chin, caressing his flesh.

It’s a tentative kind of love. An understanding and a plea all at once.

The blond leans back against the wall and pulls you closer, closing his eyes. Finally relaxing for the first time in what seems like forever. But his girl is in his arms, and he’s never been this calm.

“I have a home in Urzikstan,” he confesses lightly, fingers brushing your body and giving way to shivers. You listen, eyes fluttering at the vibrations of his words. “It’s safe—protected. I…want us to live there.” Alex nods against your head, swallowing. “If you’ll come back with me.”

“Yes,” your answer is immediate. “Anywhere, as long as you’re with me.”

You feel his breath hitch, soft chuckles brushing your hair far better than any comb. There’s a small tremor in his voice as he says, “I love you. God, do I love you.”

Your lips pull up, body growing heavy with a final sense of home.

“I love you, too.” Soft kisses and tight arms. Shifting tattoos. “But if you ever do something like that again without talking to me, I’m telling Laswell she has permission to put a bullet in your ass.”

His loud laughs shake your body, and you press your face into his neck to steady yourself; smiling.

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 5 months

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Clownfall: Endgame - Hello December

I am late writing and posting this, because it's nearly the end of term and I am mega busy (I have leave in two days and I am counting the hours...) BUT some stuff happened last week so let's dig in!

Also quick note before we do: I would like to politely request that you stop tagging this with "England" or "English politics". This is about British politics, not just England, and I am not English. Please do not erase me it takes SO LONG to write these thank you all and goodnight anyway ON WITH THE SHOW

Saturday, 25 November

12.01am

We begin our tale with Oliver Wright of the Times, who reports that … no hang on, wait, I've fucked it, okay. To understand this story, you first need to understand Simon Case.

Simon Case is a civil servant, and current Cabinet Secretary and head of UK Civil Service

He was the highest ranking public official implicated in the Partygate scandal, though he didn’t resign nor was he fined

In the Telegraph’s published WhatsApp messages from Partygate in which Tories all chatted to each other (seriously HOW do those keep getting leaked), Case made fun of holidaymakers stuck in hotel rooms by Covid regulations

In the same messages he also described some opposition to Covid restrictions as “pure Conservative ideology”, which is. An Own Goal

He also described BlowJo as a “nationally distrusted figure” whose isolation rules the public were unlikely to follow, which is true but also the Quiet Part

This information is from Wikipedia, which I’m openly admitting here, so my esteemed colleague hbomberguy can stand down.

Why am I mentioning him! Well. Case was supposed to give evidence to the Covid inquiry in October this year, but didn’t because of medical leave (ironically). In November, he still wasn’t back (should have isolated better, eh, Si), and the inquiry was given private medical information relating to Case (presumably evidence that he’s not just faking it so he doesn't have to be shouted at by angry judges and MPs and that).

So! On Saturday the 25th, eighteen and a half hours before Beep the Meep’s spectacular TV debut, Oliver Wright of the Times reports that Simon Case – uh, before his medical leave - advised Prime Minister Rishi Sunak that he should authorise pre-election talks between the civil service and Labour. Sunak - I suspect obviously - ignored this suggestion, in case it signalled that an election is now imminent.

According to Wright, it’s now questionable whether Case will ever return to his role.

Shame.

Monday, 27 November

2.44pm

House of Commons time! Let's see what our elected representatives are up to.

Tory MP Jill Mortimer says international treaties written 70 years ago "are not fit for purpose" to tackle illegal immigration, so we need to return to the "Deport the browns to Rwanda" plan. Ugh.

2.50pm

The following was reported by Matt Dathan of the Times, so CALL OFF YOUR DOGS hbomberguy.

James Cleverly – the newest Home Secretary, chappie who described another MPs constituency as a shithole in the House of Commons in his second week on the job – says the Rwanda policy isn’t the “be all and end all”.

Robert Jenrick – the Minister of State for Immigration – says the policy is an "extremely important component" of the government's small boats policy.

So! James Cleverly and Robert Jenrick disagree on this matter! Exciting! Hey, Tumblrs, just for fun...

Let’s remember those two names.

2.58pm

Robert Jenrick says boat crossings have been reduced by more than a third in the last year, but that numbers are still unacceptably high.

FUN SELF-STUDY ACTIVITY: Take a moment to form an opinion of Robert Jenrick! It’ll be worth it.

Here is some information to get you started: Jenrick this year ordered some lovely murals of cartoon characters (Mickey Mouse, Tom and Jerry, etc) to be painted over at a children’s asylum centre in Kent. His explicit reason is because he thought they were "too welcoming" for lone refugee children arriving in the UK, and such children should not feel welcome here.

Have you formed your opinion yet? Then I'll continue.

8.13pm

Rishi Sunak cancels a meeting with the Greek Prime Minister in a row over the Elgin Marbles.

Uh, there's a lot going on here - this is about the stolen marble frescoes that should be in the Parthenon in Athens, that gross British thief Lord Elgin stole decades ago and plonked into the British Museum. Greece has been asking for them back ever since, but a small handful of old white men who are in charge of the British Museum don't want to give them back and keep stating that Greece wouldn't look after them properly, which is a hell of a claim given that Elgin literally broke one when he nicked them, and also, he fucking stole them. Anyway, it turns out to the surprise of no one that Sunak also doesn't think we should give them back, and so when the matter was raised in an Anglo-Greek meeting recently Sunak literally walked out of it, even though the meeting was actually about something else.

So HERE HE IS refusing to do any diplomacy with Greece now i.e. his actual fucking job.

This is a big deal for the immigration-obsessed though! According to a Labour source, Greece is an essential ally for any agreement on illegal migration.

And even the Prime Minister’s supporters think he’s got this one wrong.

Wednesday, 29 November

Prime Minister’s Questions!

This is the (televised) point in the week where the PM has to appear in the Commons and be grilled by anyone who wants to put the boot in about anything at all. Keir Starmer decides today is the day to do some actual opposition, pushes Sunak on several fronts, and pretty much everyone reckons this is Starmer’s best ever performance at PMQs. People especially enjoy Starmer calling Rishi the “man with the reverse Midas touch”.

This is not, strictly speaking, actually funny. But it's political humour, which is like office humour. It doesn't actually have to be.

12.22pm

A former cabinet member tells the press that the Greek government are furious at Sunak’s snub. Uh oh!

Thursday, 30 November

Disgraced former Secretary of State for Health and all round human 1950s meat blancmange Matt Hancock talks to the Covid inquiry today. Specifically, to explain why he, the then-Secretary of State for Health, led the government so badly in the pandemic that we developed the second highest death rate in the world. To hear him tell it, he was an underdog hero doing his best to fight a toxic culture at Whitehall to get the pandemic handled responsibly.

The only problem with this is that it is contradicted by everyone else’s accounts.

He is called a “proven liar” who was “unfit for the job” by proven liar and unfit for his job Dominic Cummings. Former civil servant Helen MacNamara says Hancock displayed “nuclear levels” of overconfidence and said lots of things that later turned out to be untrue. Sadly for HandCock, he said these things to cameras that were recording him onto the telly, and so we do actually know.

Monday, 4 December

Keir Starmer talked about the economy today. He won’t rule out cutting public services, and it looks like he’s trying to tell disenfranchised Tory voters to jump ship to Labour.

Hope it’s a bluff! Very depressing if he’s serious. This is nowhere near as much fun as Tories being humiliated.

21.47pm

GOOD NEWS EVERYONE!

(This is from the Mirror, you can’t destory me on your YouTube.)

Labour MP Diana Johnson proposes an amendment to the Victims and Prisoners Bill to compensate thousands of patients infected with HIV and hepatitis C through contaminated blood products in the 70s and 80s, to the tune of billions of pounds.

And it WON! Narrowly – 246 votes to 242. A huge deal, because that includes 23 Tory backbenchers. That is very bad for Rishi Sunak. He he he.

Tory MP Edward Argar had tried to sort this in adance, by saying the government would provide their own similar amendment to the bill. Basically, he realised this was a controversial bill for the party, and wanted to present a version that could be a Tory victory rather than a Labour victory and Tory humiliation.

Didn’t work.

And neither did a THREE LINE WHIP for Tory MPs to vote against the Labour plan?!?? YES KIDS YOU READ THAT RIGHT Sunak didn't want people infected with HIV and hepatitis C through contaminated blood products in the 70s and 80s to receive compensation in case it made him look bad, so he imposed a three line whip to force Tories to vote against it.

And 23 of them rebelled.

And now he looks even worse.

Lol.

Tuesday, 5 December

Have you done your homework, Tumblrs? Have you remembered those names? Have you formed an opinion?

7.38am

Home Office minister and children's cartoon hater Robert Jenrick is interviewed on Sky News. It’s ugly stuff. He refers to small boats “[breaking] in” to the UK. He insists asylum seekers WILL start being deported to Rwanda before the next General Election. And generally does big talk about cutting immigration.

What a hero.

1.27pm

James Cleverly is in Rwandan capital Kigali, as the UK signs a new treaty designed to help score the Supreme Court’s approval for the Rwanda plan.

1.40pm

So!

Cleverly’s doing pretty much what he said he’d do. He’s trying to legislate to make the Rwanda plan safer, rather than try to disapply human rights treaties. This, of course, is the Sensible Plan, if your plan is still to get people killed, but you want it to actually succeed.

But former Home Secretary Cruella Braverman is driving a load of Tories to push to disapply human rights obligations – and she’s joined in this by Robert Jenrick!!!!

That’s RIGHT! Hope you remembered his name, because now he’s a VILLAIN! Or, well, more of one, and in a more immediate way. After disagreeing with Cleverly in the commons on 27 November, he’s joined Team Suella. Tonight he’ll be part of a meeting between three different right-wing groupings...

1.46pm

The new treaty guarantees that, if these plans go ahead, asylum seekers won’t be returned to countries where their lives or freedom are threatened, and creates a requirement for an independent monitoring committee.

This treaty would be great if we lived in a world where the Supreme Court trusted the Rwandan government to honour treaty obligations. But we live in the world where NOT having this trust was part of the reason the Supreme Court ruled the plans unlawful.

Even if this wasn’t the case, we still need new legislation, and that’ll be way more controversial than this new treaty. The legislation was said to be ready by Thursday, which is a very short turnaround that only a lunatic would believe, but in a SHOCK DISAPPOINTING U-TURN the government now refuses to commit to this.

In any case...

This is causing cracks in the Tory party.

10.33pm

The Parliament's Christmas tree lights are turned on!

It goes as well as anything else in Parliament:

youtube

A visual representation of the Tory Party schism.

Wednesday, 6 December

8.21am

Boris Johnson arrives at the covid inquiry. He will be questioned for two days.

He he he

10.26am

Johnson is asked why around 5,000 WhatsApp messages were lost on his phone from January to June 2020.

Steffan made this brilliant meme. Please do not grass me up to hbomberman.

11.33am

It’s clear by now that Johnson wasn’t alert to the danger of covid by February 2020. Johnson says it wasn’t declared a pandemic by WTO yet, and he wasn’t asked about it in PMQs. Gosh! What a good point, maybe!

Until the KC points out a troubling fact: “You were the Prime Minister.”

Ah. Yes. PMQs are irrelevant, you see – the Prime Minister is allowed information that the opposition aren’t.

And, indeed, he probably would have had, if he'd actually attended the five Cobra meetings about it that would have briefed him on it just as the virus was being discovered.

12.49pm

2.24pm

I’m skipping most of this stuff, since it’s normal lies and non-specific apologies from BJ.

But this one’s interesting. Matt HandCock claimed he told Johnson on 13 March to call a lockdown. There’s no written evidence of this happening. Johnson outright contradicts it.

Lol

5.43pm

Cruella Braverman rejects Sunak’s Rwanda bill. It fails the five tests she claimed his bill would need to pass.

These are tests she made up and published in a newspaper, I should stress, like they don't exist and she is not an authority. This is a bit like if I marched into your house, dear reader, and went "You are not allowed to celebrate the holidays this year because I personally said you have to pass my tests first and you haven't", and I'm pretty sure if I tried that you would drop me in a bin and laugh at me.

But, she has many supporters on the Tory right...

5.48pm

The Sun’s political correspondent says that if the Lords try to block emergency legislation, some Tory MPs reckon Sunak should call an election, fighting on Rwanda.

I desperately want this. I DESPERATELY want this. They’ll lose that election so badly. SO badly. God, likes charge reblogs cast.

6.53pm

The villain Robert Jenrick … RESIGNS!

Oh no! This is not good news if you’re the Prime Minister.

Fucking fantastic for the rest of us, though

7.26pm

Jenrick publishes his resignation letter on Twitter. It’s two pages long, claiming the PM’s Rwanda plan basically won’t work.

Jenrick’s not wrong about that, but I speak as someone who doesn’t want any version of the Rwanda plan – not the monstrous Sunak one, and certainly not the hypermonstrous Braverman one. Good. Thanks for confirming, Darth Bell-end.

8.31pm

I enjoyed this tweet.

8.52pm

Sunak writes back to Jenrick, claiming the new plan WILL work.

Which is not normally what happens?!? Normally they yell about their current madness in a letter, publish it on Twitter because no one else cares or will agree, and get roundly ignored. But, desperate times! Here, Sunak’s challenge is to try to win over the Tories who don’t believe in his ability to deliver the plan. It’s a big ask.

So what are we left with?

10.37pm

A senior figure on the Tory right is asked whether their side will kill Sunak’s bill.

And they’re not sure! If it’s the only offer on the table, it seems sensible to vote for it.

BUT the right wing of the Tories aren’t famously very sensible. They’ll probably try and add amendments at the very least, but it’s genuinely possible they’ll reject it out of spite, because they are LUNATICS. Or as a political move to weaken Sunak.

And that's what you missed in the Tory Civil War!

(Up to last week)

#politik #clownfall: endgame

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cutecatlov3r · 8 months

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kinktober: stuck in wall~ bachira meguru

synopsis: your roommate finds you stuck in the washer . how could be not stick his needy cock inside of you ?

warnings/tw: aged up! dubcon, praise, erratic behavior, hard pervert, panty stealing, dryhumping, raw sex, piv, free use(?), orgasm(m), porn with a plot, drunk off sex, cervix fucking, and mental issues (?)

character ai bot that I made in honor of this: didn't make one for this ;(

not proofread . check out my other ones too lolz !

i'm reposting it becuase it got taken down aw ! :(

"bachi! where are my panties, can't find them in the washer!" you yell from the laundry room. you've been losing panties everyday, you don't even think you've done a load of your panties or bras since about last week.

"eh? why would I know?" he yelled back from the living room. of course he took them, he didn't care, no shame in it either. he takes them when you put your clothes in the laundry basket, taking some time to sniff your cute panties, wanting to smell your cunt. occasionally licking the inside to see if there's a taste. the way he licks your panties gently, his hand stroking his cock... makes him hard just thinking of it.

you just groaned in defeat. you had no idea he did that, you never suspected him as the culprit either.

"try in the way back of the washer! it could be stuck deep inside!" he suggested, sounding innocent. he was scrolling through his phone in the living room, bored.

you shrug to yourself, reaching into the washer.

…

why the hell was the washer so damn deep? you roll your eyes, making a mental note to buy a new washer. reaching down further, you do see a pair of your panties. one that you haven't seen in awhile. you reach into the wash deeper, having to squeeze in your hips while reaching your arm out. once your hips were in you grabbed the underwear.

you sighed of relief, looking at it, it was one of yours. but they did feel weird, some sort of damp-like crust on it. you shrugged to yourself, not caring because you would wash it either way. there probably isn't a good explanation for it.

little did you know that bachira pumped himself, cumming on your sweet panties earlier. it wasn't his fault, he was just so turned on over the fact you cooked him breakfast when you woke up.

you huffed slightly, ready to get out...

what the...?

your hips were stuck, they weren't squeezing through the small opening at all. you tried your hardest, trying to push out your hips but to no avail. your hips were too big to get out.

"goddamnit..." you mutter to yourself, still trying to force yourself out of the washer.

bachira heard your little huffs and grunts, trying to escape the washer. your hips just weren't budging, you definitely want to buy a new one soon, this one sucked, obviously. you sighed to yourself, heart racing with a small bit of anxiety. how would you get unstuck...?

curiously, bachira walked over to the laundry room, wondering why you'd be making the noises. maybe you were fucking yourself, that's honestly the true reason why he came to check up on you, wanting a glimpse of what you could be doing.

"yo y/n! you ok-?" bachira paused, eyes widening slightly. this was way better than what he expected. "oh! hehe! are you stuck?" he chuckled. the way your ass peeked from your short little shorts made him smirk.

"uh no... of course not..." you mumble.

he giggled. "alright, then i'm gonna head to be-"

"wait!...I actually need help, I'm stuck," you sighed in defeat, shaking your head in the washer.

he hummed slightly, walking over to you, looking at how you couldn't budge your hips. the little voice in his head, what he called his monster, was telling him to fuck the shit out of you. but he took a deep breath, trying not to take advantage of you, his roommate.

"so! what's the problem?" he smiled, bending down face to face with your ass, looking at where you could be stuck.

"my hips won't come loose," you reply, truthfully. you showed him a quick example, trying to wiggle your hips out but once again, failing miserably. "could you uh... help me out?" you ask, swallowing your pride. you hated asking for help, it made you feel bad.

bachira chuckled, nodding. he stood on his knees, hands gripping the skin above your waist. he tried to pull you backwards. it didn't work. he tried again, this time, his clothed cock accidentally rubbing against your shorts. each time he tried to pull you backwards, his pelvis moved forward, cock hitting your ass.

you didn't mind, you just wanted to get out of the stupid washer.

"fuck her..." the voice in his head said. bachira watched as he was slightly thrusting against you when he was trying to pull you out. you didn't even notice that he was slowing down his movements, in thought. "y/n..." he mumbled.

"hm? what? should we call the fire department?" you ask, a bit worried.

without even a warning he pulled down your shorts.

"eh?! bachi! what the-"

"this pussy is so pretty..." he hummed, sitting back down to go face to face with your pussy. you were blushing, not knowing how to feel. you didn't even process what was happening. "aw, these panties are one of my favorites," he brought his thumb up to your clit, rubbing it in rough little circles. you whimpered slightly, "i came right there," he smiled, reminiscing on how he stroked his cock to those same panties, cumming on the inside of them.

"bachi..." you let out a breathless moan. "cut it out...! get away from me," you whined. you didn't want this to ruin things as roommates, if he helped you out, you'd just forget about it.

"no, i don't think i want that, pretty girl," his thumb went under those panties, sliding across your slick and wet cunt. "i don't think you do either, look at you... so wet," he chuckled, admiring the way his thumb moved against your folds. "so pretty,"

to be fair, of course you were wet. your roommate is pretty hot. him also admitting that he strokes himself to your panties also turned you on, just slightly.

"bachi... stop," you moan as his thumb went over your sensitive nub in a slightly pattern.

"wanna pump you full of my cum, y/n. you'd look so beautiful having it seep out from your tight little pussy," he said, unashamed, smiling.

you were speechless, breath hitching at that statement. all of a sudden it felt as if it were getting hotter inside of the washer. maybe it was because you were nervous or maybe it was because you've always wondered what it'd be like to be fucked by your crazy energetic roommate.

he was acting real bold for some reason, it was definitely the voice in his head that kept putting this idea of fucking you there while you were stuck. "awww! i'm already so hard too," he whined, taking out his cock. his dick was pulsing, no precum yet but just about ready to get inside of you. "i'm gonna fuck ya! don't worry, i'll make it feel pretty good too!". he grabbed his cock, stroking it slightly before pressing it against your ass.

"wait!- don't-"

he moved your panties to the side, cock pressing against your entrance. he rubbed his cock against your hole, teasing it. he didn't even put the tip in yet, slapping it slightly, earning little whimpers from the jolts of pleasure you were receiving.

"don't? seriously? look at how your needy hole is just begging for me to fuck you," he grinned, taking away his cock from your entrance. without his dick being there... it felt sort of empty, unsatisfied. "but! if you don't wanna I won't force ya," he was trying to sound nice. but he knew damn well if you didn't want to he'd force you and he probably wouldn't care about whether or not you'd swallow your pride and want to fuck him too.

you sigh slightly, missing the feeling of friction already. "wait... um... actually you can. you can..." you gulp a bit, feeling your face flush with embarrassment inside of the washer. "you can fuck me,"

no hesitation needed when you said those words as he shoved himself inside of you, merciless. you almost cried due to how well he was stretching you out. tears brimmed your eyes. he put both hands on the top of the washer, thrusting his hips. he watched as your ass bounced against his cock, your cunt sucking him tightly. your gummy walls squelching and squeezing down on his length.

"feels so good," he moaned, putting his shirt in between his teeth so he can see everything. he even whimpered like a puppy at the sight. he was not afraid to show his feelings, he didn't like when girls had to sit there and wonder whether their partner was feeling good too, so he loved showing.

"b-bachira!" you repeated, your breath fogging up the washer, making it slightly claustrophobic to be in there.

he rutted his hips deep inside of you, not moving fast, instead moving deep and hard. you could feel him so deeply, it almost hurt.

"you're the best... this pussy is the best," he moaned, thrusting himself more. his fat cock was being squeezed, almost feeling as if he was being milked dry. he has never had pussy this good.

"so good!" you slurred. you were being fucked so dumb that you could feel yourself going cross eyed, drool falling from your mouth. though it was early, his cock seriously was fucking you so good that your toes were curling.

bachira furrowed his brows, shutting his eyes as he slowed down even more, instead to pound you deep from the back.

that's when tears were rolling down your face. with each thrust you let out a cry, he was hitting your cervix. and fuck, all he wanted to do was fuck you so deep that he can get his tip past your cervix to fill up your womb with his warm cum. if he kept it up at this rate, he will gladly slam his dick so deep that it goes past your cervix, but for now, he loved the feeling of hitting it. he felt as if he were being blessed by a goddess.

"n-no more!" you cried, panting heavily. it was all too much, it hurt so bad yet felt so amazing. you could get used to this.

he bit on his shirt more, a sweat drop falling down his face. the way you moaned was like music to his ears. he fucked into you more and more, feeling his balls tighten, his cock twitch, his veins pulse...

"c-cumming! f...fah~ fuck! i'm-"

and that's when he shoved himself as far as he could, staying in that position, head being thrown back as he came. moans and high pitched whines escaped his mouth over and over. his cum filling your womb, shooting in ropes as he moaned.

you cried, legs shaking. the feeling of him filling you up felt so good, giving your cervix some comfort after being fucked over and over.

he panted, keeping himself inside of you until he caught his breath.

slowly, he pulled out, watching as his cum drip from your abused pussy. he grinned, enjoying his view as it dripped onto your thighs and floor.

"so hot..." he bit his lip, hand rubbing around the softness of your ass.

you were too fucked out to say anything in response.

"you cum?" he asked, sweetly as if nothing happened.

you made a small noise that told him you didn't to which he giggled, smacking your ass slightly. "don't worry! i can take care of that,"

#bllk thirst #bllk smut #bllk bachira #meguru bachira x reader #blue lock bachira #bachira blue lock #meguru bachira #bachira meguru #bachira meguru smut #bachira smut #blue lock meguru bachira #meguru bachira smut #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

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banggyu0308 · 1 year

Note

definitely want a cheerleader x sub!gyu smut, like hes this nerdy boy with the biggest crush on her. tries confessing, but mc is known to reject confessions, so, he gets rejected. but hes cute so mc's like, "i mean, i can give you a quick bj if you want" absolutely freaks out, cant even get a word in before his crush is down kneeling in front of him 😩

just want the boy absolutely fucked out just by some slight tongue on his tip 😂

Like // Choi Beomgyu

sub!nerd!beomgyu x dom!cheerleader!reader

Summary: it’s obviously going to go badly when Beomgyu confesses to you, someone who’s popular, attractive, and worst of all, known to reject confessions.

But that’s not going to stop him, is it?

genre: college au, smut

Warnings: oral sex (m receiving), ngl it’s kinda public, reader calls him ‘Gyu’ and ‘Beomie’, dacryphilia (yes, again. I like the idea of a boy crying for me :shrug:) , beomgyu talks about himself in third person in a cute way , virgin shaming (kinda) , unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!) , lots of subby Gyu, non established relationship , not proofread

Word count: 2.5k

Beomgyu sits in the bleachers, watching you and the other people on the cheerleading team do your performance at halftime of the football game.

He can’t help but marvel at the way your cheer leotard and skirt fit your body perfectly, how you perform the choreography with ease.

It’s obvious someone like you would never go for someone like him. You’re… you, confident, pretty, popular, and he’s the kid on the side who spends more of his time indoors with his nose in a book than socializing. He’s not even sure you know he exists.

It’s not like he doesn’t have friends. His friend group consists of four other boys he’s been friends with since they were in first grade. Some of them, like Yeonjun and Taehyun, were more popular than the others and it was a little awkward at times, but they stuck together and it didn’t seem like that would change any time soon.

In fact, the one time Beomgyu spoke to you, it was actually Yeonjun’s doing.

Yeonjun knew how Beomgyu liked you, and so he dragged him to his football meet just because he knew you’d be practicing there too.

And then Beomgyu was coming out of the boys‘ locker room, opposite to the girls, cause he just felt like taking a shower. And there you are, heading around the corner to the girls’ right as he comes out.

And Beomgyu knocks into you and you almost fall, but instead of being all prissy and annoyed about it, you smile at him, wink, and say, “watch where you’re going, Gyu,” like not only you know his name, but like you’re close enough to have a nickname for him.

And that, my friends, is why half the school is in love with Y/N L/N.

And so, Beomgyu isn’t going to lie, the only reason he’s at the game is because he’s decided to confess. Because, his logic is that if you knew his name and called him by a nickname, that has to mean that you’re paying attention to him. And if you’re paying attention to him and he’s not in any of your friend circles, then that means you must like him.

It’s foolproof!! He’s gone through it multiple times, and it just all makes sense.

And this is why he finds himself waiting for you after you come out of the locker room.

You’re one of the only girls who even use it, the rest preferring to shower at their houses. And this is lucky for him, because he doesn’t want to do this in front of anyone else.

Mainly because, in the small possibility you reject him, as you are famous of doing, he doesn’t want others to witness it.

So here he is, waiting with a flower in his hand, and there you are, looking effortlessly beautiful coming out of the locker room, your hair wet from your shower.

“Hey, Y/N?” He calls, grabbing your attention.

You pause, startled, and turn to look at him. “Yeah?”

Beomgyu fidgets slightly, suddenly embarrassed, then holds out the flower for you to take. “For you.”

You smile, taking it in your hands. “Thank you, Beomgyu,” you reply, smiling up at him, this adorable boy who’s so obviously nervous.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome… you were really good today,” he adds when you two grow quiet.

You laugh. “I don’t know about that, but thank you for the compliment.”

“Oh no, really, you were. Good, I mean. More than good! Amazing! You’re always amazing, which is why…” He’s a stuttering mess by now, cheeks flushed pink, hand on the nape of his neck.

You look at him expectantly, waiting for his next words. “Why…?” You prompt.

“Why… why i like you.” Your eyes grow wide, and he continues quickly. “You’re so smart, and kind, and talented, and, and beautiful, and I just wanted to let you know in case you would ever want to be with, well, someone like me…” he trails off, looking at you from under those long lashes that flutter perfectly against his cheeks when he blinks.

“Oh- oh, I…” you don’t know what to say, flustered by his confession, and you know you’re going to break the heart of this sweet little boy in front of you, looking at you so innocently, so eagerly waiting for your response.

“Oh, Gyu…” It’s never easy, this. Hurting people just because of your personal worries. “Gyu, I’m really sorry, but I, I really can’t…”

You can see the moment his heart cracks, and you rush to say something else, hand on his forearm. “Trust me, it’s not you. It’s not you at all. In fact…” No, no, too personal. Saying something like that isn’t going to help fix anything.

And he’s so, so cute, too, and before you know what you’re even saying, the words come out of your mouth. “I could give you a blowjob though, if you want?”

Embarrassment flashes across his face, along with shock and a million other emotions, and how is he supposed to resist? Beomgyu can only nod slightly, his cheeks a bright pink, and that’s all the answer you need.

“Do you think the girls lockers or the boys are less crowded?”

He’s internally freaking out and can’t even stutter a response, which doesn’t matter because you answer yourself.

“Girls, of course. No one goes in there except me. I’ve gotten off in those showers more than once, actually.”

And now you’re dragging him into the locker room by his hand, heading to the shower, and you turn on the first faucet, moving to the other side so you don’t get wet.

Still in your tiny cheerleader outfit, you’re on your knees in front of him, and Beomgyu is trying to calm his breathing, because his crush (who just rejected him) is about to suck him off in the shower of the fucking girls locker room.

And he has to say something.

“Y/N, I- I…” You look at him from your position, and he has to look away, swallowing thickly, because why in hell do you have to look so sexy like that, looking at him from between his legs? “I’ve never done this, no ones ever…touched me?”

You giggle, unbuckling his belt and then moving to unbutton his shirt. “You’re telling me little Beomie has never been jerked off before?”

He shakes his head no, cheeks still pink, and you smirk, the exposed skin of his torso catching your eye again. “Are you okay if I kiss you? I mean, just to spice things up?”

He nods, because who wouldn’t say no to their crush kissing them?

And just like that, your lips are pressed against his, eyes shut, lips parted against his and your tongues dancing together. For being a virgin, he’s a surprisingly good kisser.

Your lips leave him breathless and a little more stimulated than it should have, but you don’t care, leaving marks all over his pretty neck and collarbones, your teeth nipping his skin.

Beomgyu can’t help the moans that leave him, a little whimper joining them when your lips dip down to his pants’ waistband.

“Want me to keep going, Gyu?” You tease, because like hell you know he wants you to.

He nods quickly, eyes shut and back pressed flush against the shower wall, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead.

You smirk and tug off his pants, running a hand over his clothed dick.

A little whine leaves his lips at your touch, and you can tell his legs are struggling to hold him up, trembling at the slightest of touches.

“Please, please, please, keep going?” He begs, hands slipping on the shower wall, trying to grab on.

Another whimper leaves his lips when you finally pull down his boxers, and you bite your lip, because god, he looks so delicious right now, and you want your tongue on him as quickly as possible.

Your fingers wrap around his dick, coaxing an echoey moan from him, your name slipping past his lips. His legs shake, and he’s flushed pink, his tip leaking. You gently, with the tip of your tongue, lick off the precum beading up, and the reaction he gives you is priceless, loud whimpers all you can hear.

“Oh, you taste so good, Beomie..~” you coo, then lick up the side of his dick, then over his tip again, applying enough pressure that when you look at him, his head is leaned back, neck with your marks exposed, and there are little tears running down his cheeks.

“Is Gyu crying?” You tease, simply kitty licking his tip again. “Is this too much for him?”

“No, no, not too much, ‘s perfect, ‘s perfect…” he whispers, his breath shaking.

“Not too much for who?” You ask, repeating your movement.

“For Gyu, for Gyu!” He gasps, giving you the words you want, his hips moving forward slightly, causing him to slide between your lips.

This only makes him cry out louder, limbs quivering, and you can feel him twitch in your mouth.

“Is Gyu gonna cum?” The question sounds so innocent, but you’re stroking his thigh with one hand and jerking him off with the other, your tongue on his tip. It’s anything but.

Beomgyu nods sharply, quick repetitive nods that make his hair fall into his eyes, his lips parted in pleasure. “Yes, gonna cum, gonna, please, please, can he?”

You smirk at his pleas, but he’s being good and asking, so all you say is, “alright, little virgin Gyu can cum~”

Both Beomgyu’s breathing and hips stutter, lips parted in a silent moan when he cums, his seed leaking down your chin. You swallow it all up, then stand, peering at him curiously.

He fidgets under your gaze and you smirk, hands tracing the line of his slender shoulders. “Hey Gyu?”

“Yeah…?” He whispers, still breathless, his eyes on yours.

“I want you to fuck me,” you state blatantly, eyes searching his, the taste of him still present on your tongue.

His eyes grow wide, lips trembling slightly as he tries to form the words he wants to say, and once again he just nods in agreement.

You don’t know what urged you to say that, but soon enough you realize: the boy is so fucked out from your tongue, you can only imagine how he’ll get once he’s inside you.

The steam of the shower has your clothes sticking to your skin and you peel them off, smirking at how Beomgyu’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down when he swallows. You tug down your panties, beckoning him to your side, and pull him in to kiss him again. You’re under the water by now, the two of you slick, your hands tangled in his wet hair.

“Please,” you inhale when you break the kiss, kissing him again immediately, and he gets the memo, tentatively hooking an arm under your knee and drawing your leg up.

His tip prods against your entrance almost immediately and you both suck in sharp breaths, his face buried in your neck. “Is this it?” He mumbles, the sound of his voice muffled by your skin. His hips buck forward on their own, a little twitch, but it’s enough for him to sink his tip in, stretching your entrance perfectly.

You can feel his mouth opening and closing silently, his breath shuddering, the way his eyelashes flutter tickling your neck. “Keep going, Beomie, I can take it.” You whisper, playing with the hair on the back of his neck.

Beomgyu thrusts forward again, sinking in halfway, and you feel as his his breathing falters all together, his one arm tightening around your waist, fingers pressing bruises into your skin.

One last thrust, and he’s in entirely, his tip pressed perfectly against your g-spot. Your own breath hitches and a small moan leaves you simultaneous with a whimper from him.

“Can’t, gonna, please!” He gasps, rutting into you again, pressing closer and closer to your cervix, the pressure in your lower stomach building when his fingers press against your clit.

“Gonna what, Beomie?” You tease, trying to sound cocky, but your voice turns too breathy, a squeaky gasp leaving you.

“Gonna, cum, please, ‘m gonna cum…” Beomgyu’s hips move again, small little jolts that send the pleasure on rampage down your skin.

“Who’s gonna cum?” You tease, the power that comes from him talking about himself like that running through your brain and making you want to ruin him.

“Gyu is, Gyu is, gonna…” he can’t even finish his sentence, too far gone, hips stuttering as he cums inside you suddenly, the fingers against your clit quickening in desperation to get you to your own pleasure.

You were already reaching it, the sensation of his fingertips, slightly calloused, tipping you into the deep end of the pool, drowning you as you tremble, gripping him hard, his name leaving your lips over and over again.

Your walls clenching around his dick makes him whimper slightly, cumming again without warning, the twitch of his hips fucking his cum deeper into you.

He lets go of your leg and you collapse against each other, your weight pinning him against the shower wall. Beomgyu’s chest is heaving against yours, both of you fully bare and shaking slightly, his hand still gripping your hips.

You raise his chin with your fingers, his eyelashes casting shadows on his flushed cheeks, because god, he still can’t believe you’re fucking him. “Gyu?” You hum, smiling slightly at him.

He raises his eyebrows, a small “hm?” leaving him in a response.

“You’re cute when you talk in third person,” you giggle, backing up from him with a smirk and pulling on the fresh clothes you had in your backpack.

You scribble something down on a piece of paper and hand it to him when he follows you out of the shower in a dazed state. “My number. Call me?”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, of course,” he blushes, stuttering slightly, trying not to crinkle the paper in his fist of excitement.

You smirk, then leave the locker room, Beomgyu trailing behind you. Two guys in your class raise an eyebrow at your wet and disheveled hair, and well, the fact that Beomgyu was in the girls locker room.

“Did you guys fuck in there?” The talker of the two asks, smirking at you and obviously eyeing your torso, exposed by your crop top.

You shrug like it’s not big deal. “Yeah. So?”

The other raises an eyebrow. “Was he good?” As if ‘he’ wasn’t right there, listening.

You smile, a teasing look in your eyes. “He was, but if you define “good” as “fucked my brains out” you should ask him about me instead.”

And at that, you stride away, smiling to yourself.

You look behind once, to survey Beomgyu’s reaction, and he smiles cutely at you, coaxing one of your own in response.

You tamp down the feeling in your chest, because you are not falling for this boy. No you are not.

At least, not harder than you already had, even before today.

A/N- TWIST ENDING??

I went a little overboard haha-

#beomgyu hard hours #beomgyu smut #beomgyu x reader #sub beomgyu #cheerleader x nerd #nerd beomgyu #txt hard hours #txt smut #txt x reader #txt #tomorrow x together hard hours #tomorrow x together smut #ada answers 💌#ada's req: Beomgyu <3

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iaeriy · 3 months

Text

control • fermín lópez

summary: tempting the hateship of enemies to a risky lovely night.. based on this request!!

word count:6.2k!

warnings; a few spanish translated sentences, age gap: reader is 18 fermín is 20. slight angst, smut, missionary, cowgirl. italics are memory!

a/n: NOT PROOFREAD hey guys..im not pregnant im late but uh..enjoy this! 🎀

Another hot vacation month, your 4 friends decided to go to mykonos along with their boyfriends. How fun the vacation was going to come and go along the way you had it in mind, little did you know thay wouldn’t be changing when you figured that there were only 4 rooms. you were currently running around the house going into each room, now on the last room. aurora was already unpacking, “no hay otro cuartos..?” (are there any other rooms?) you spoke looking at her, her head shot up looking at you. “no y/n..hay solo cuatro y punto. no podemos cambiar ya.” (no y/n..theres only four, and period. we can’t change.) she said smiling slightly at you, you groaned whinning loudly. “ugh! seriously! this is not fucking fair!” you said walking out her room bumping into fermín, mira por donde vas baboso.” (watch where you’re going idiot.) you said going downstairs, fermín scoffed looking at you.

“please! can we just trade! i’ll do anything! i can’t share rooms with him and you know it!” you said whining and yelling at your friend isabella. “y/n! cut it out and deal with it! me and gavi already unpacked, just share the room and that’s it.” she said, you whined stomping back upstairs. your backpack still on before you ran to valerias room, another friend of yours. “val, por favor déjame cambiar el cuarto contigo!” (val, please let me change my room with yours!) you spoke, she looked at you. “no, i already unpacked. there shouldn’t be bad about your bedroom..” she said, you rolled your eyes. “whatever..” you mumbled, opening the door to now your room. “ONE FUCKING BED!?” you shouted, fermín stood behind you. you walked into your bedroom putting your stuff on the bed, fermín suddenly walked in. “que haces aquí, lárgate.” (what are you doing here, get out.) you said, he looked at you. “por que tan enojada?” (why so mad?) he said chuckling smirking at your reaction, you threw your shoes on the floor. “because i have to fucking share with you.” you spat out, walking out purposely bumping into his shoulder.

you went downstairs, to the kitchen finding a soda still thinking about the situation, you were upset. you never liked fermín, never did. everybody even your friends and his friends knew you didn’t like him, he was rude all the time for no reason, back to when you were in highschool he’d push you just to try to get with a friend of yours, that never worked. even at some point he decided to just be rude for no reason, no reason at ALL. now sharing rooms with him was just a mess. a horrible chaotic mess. you were now calmed down after 15 minutes later, after finishing your soda you went back upstairs. you saw fermín fixing his stuff, you sighed. he looked at you, “still grumpy?” he said as you rolled your eyes sticking the middle finger at him, “shut the hell up.” you said, “which side of the bed do you want?” you said, he chuckled. “aw, you’re going to sleep with me?” he said, mimicking you. “yeah thanks to your fucking friends and their girlfriends.” you spat out, sitting on the right side of the bed, “you can take the left side of the bed.” you spoke, he nodded his head just agreeing to you.

he looked at you, smirking to himself. you noticed looking at him, “i don’t know why you think it’s funny.” you said crossing your arms, now standing in the doorway of the bathroom. “it is, you obviously can’t get out the past and still stuck onto some thing you clearly still and do believe.” he said, you rolled your eyes. “and you clearly are too because you’re mentioning it yourself.” you said, leaning against the door. he chuckled shaking his head, “you’re an idiot, a fucking cry baby, just sleep on the fucking bed and get over it.” he said looking at you, his brows furrowing. “fuck you lopez.” you said walking away, disappointed at this whole situation. he went on his phone just to turn his music up.

you scoffed realizing he couldn’t hear your last sentence due to his airpods in his ears, you rolled your eyes getting up. you took off your sweater placing it on top of the pillow, now fully shoulder naked from your pink tube top. you looked down at your phone, 7:56pm. you chewed down on your flesh lip skin, you quickly walked out the room making your way downstairs, everybody was somewhat in the living room some sitting by the kitchen counter. you cleared your throat, “um i’m going out, do any of y’all want to go out with me?” you spoke, you heard a few no’s, “it was a long flight here, why are you going out?” aurora spoke, you shrugged. “just a walk to the beach.. we’re in the beach house so..” you spoke, she nodded her head. “well don’t get lost..” she said smiling, you nodded your head. “FIND A BOYFRIEND WHILE YOU’RE AT IT Y/N!!!” isabella shouted, gavi smacked her arm. “fermín will literally come downstairs and be pissed..” he said.

you frowned at the comment opening the door walking out the house, you put your wired headphones on putting on a song from your playlist, the sun was almost down. how fun.

approximately 40 minutes later

“y/n!?” fermín went through every room looking for you, his voice echoing through the upstairs part of the house. He stormed downstairs, everybody stopped what they were doing, “where’s y/n?” he spoke, aurora looked at gavi and gave her a look. “uh she uhhh..” gavi said, isabella was pinching his skin for him to not say such corny shit. “she went out for a walk, she’s somewhere in the beach.” isabella said letting go of gavis arm, “what the fuck? at 8:50!?” He said, gavi snickered. “you guys let her go out nearly at 10pm!? joder! no se pongan de pendejos!” (fuck! don’t act like idiots now!) He yelled, valeria looked at him. “why do you care? she doesn’t like you and you don’t neither.” she spoke, the room going quiet. he looked at your friend, “mejor callatè.” (shut up instead.), “mejor tu, ahora busca tu novia. solo hablas de ella.” (maybe you shut up, now go look for your girlfriend, all you do is talk about her.) cristo, isabellas boyfriend who was a la masia kid spoke, fermín scoffed before walking out the house slamming the door.

“why would you pinch me..” gavi said to isabella, she smiled. “i had to, you say nonsense stuff baby, besides y/n is young, shes the youngest out of everybody.” she said, eating a strawberry from the bowl.

fermín got in the car, driving to the beach. You were looking down at the water, admiring the small seashells you found. you grabbed one out the water, you smiled to yourself before another guy approached you. “you look a little young to be out here?” he spoke, you looked up furrowing your brows. “huh?” you said, confused. “hablas español?” (do you speak spanish?) he said, you nodded your head. “si..por que..” you said, he smiled slightly. you were still confused, “why’d you say i look a little young, i don’t know what that was needed for..” you murmured, he shrugged. you got up, the two of you walking together around the beach talking about how you ended up mykonos for the summer.

you and the stranger were currently by the stairs that led to walking to the beach, fermín spotted you by the corner of the stairs to the sand, he felt grossed out. The guy was ugly in his opinion, very..very ugly.. he wanted to do things to him, the rude things. you didn’t feel anything, not until you felt eyes. fermín was staring at the guy, you turned around and glared at him, you didn’t even say anything. “can i help you stalker? why are you here?” you said crossing your arms against your chest, he looked at you. “cause i uh..i got asked.” he spat out, you squinted at him with a disgusted look. “oh really?” you said, the poor guy cutting you off. “i didn’t know you had a boyfriend-“ he said, you turned around quickly. “h-he’s not!what!?” you said frowning, “he’s just a guy i don’t really know!” you said, fermín scoffing behind you. just by then the guy was already gone, you groaned loudly slapping fermins arm. “you fucking twat! he’s gone now. who fucking sent you here!” you said, now speaking with hands. “gavi and isabella did!” he spoke now speaking with his hands as well.

“know what just shut the fuck up! all you do is cause arguments with me for no fucking reason, fuck off.” you said walking away, he followed you. “complaint all you want but i had a right to come and stop whatever was happening.” he said, you turned around stopping your walking. “shut up. just shut up.” you said walking upstairs, he followed you. “why the fuck are you even flirting with that man, he’s probably 30. you’re literally 2 years younger than me.” he said, you looked at him. “CAN YOU SHUT UP.” you said, the urge you had to slap his chest or something. he was irritating and annoying, all these questions for what. “ever since you met me and got to talk all that shit you still can’t stop, shut up already.” you said, walking to his car opening the door. you got in slamming the door, your arms crossed against your chest looking out the window. “See you’re still believing everything.” he said, you looked at him. “ya! callatè!” (stop! shut up!) you yelled, you rolled your eyes, frustrated with this situation. the only now possible solution was a nap.

“fucking child can’t even think properly.” he murmured, you punched his dick enough of his nonsense, he yelped in pain. “shut up. this is my life not yours, the worst situation i didn’t expect to happen literally came to life, sleeping with the only guy i hate because of how i was treated for no reason.” you said, glaring at him he slapped your hand off. “dont fucking touch me.” he said, you glared at him again mocking him, “keep fussing about the bedroom situation instead, or instead shut up. my god you talk a lot.” he spoke driving home, “this is why i always made fun of you, cause you’re annoying as fuck.” he spat out, you looked at him. your frows slightly furrowed, mouth slightly dropped. “what..?” you said, he looked at you. “i was joking.” He said, “no you werent. you say things and never think, not even apologize.” you said, “leave me alone, don’t even say anything to me.” you spoke, the car now parked bt the house. You got out slamming the door walking inside, he chased you inside. “maybe dont chase older men.” he said, you opened the door, everybody in the house going quiet at the arguing.

“my god! get out of my dating life you’re so fucking annoying!” you said before he scoffed, “am annoying, your the brat taking all my jokes too serious. he said as you ran upstairs yelling, “stop controlling my life!” you said, “you’re a brat y/n!” He shouted, “fuck you!” you yelled out loud and clear slamming the door. gavi and Isabella staring shockingly at each other, “wow fermín..what did you do to her..” gavi spoke lowly, he threw the keys in the small bucket. “nothing. just caught her talking to some guy older than her and shes pissed, even pissed about some bed.” he said, isabella snickered. valeria walked over to the kitchen, “she’s younger than all of us, she’s only eighteen. i think you should understand her too..” she spoke slightly smiling, gavi chuckled shaking his head. “or you can just fuck her, simple.” everybody eventually hoped in the conversation saying, “alright that’s disgusting.” Or “what the fuck pablo.” fermín shook his head, slightly smirking at the thought. “definitely not..” he spoke.

“she doesn’t like you ever since she was just in her 3rd year of highschool..” isabella spoke, he looked at her. “i know that already.” he said, now sitting on the kitchen stool.

meanwhile a furious y/n upstairs..

you kicked your shoes off throwing them across the wall, you shakily sighed loudly. you took your headphones off, placing them on the nightstand including your phone, you went to find your stuff to use for the shower, your undergarments and your pjs obviously. you grabbed everything walking to the bathroom and closing the door, that was something everyone noticed about you. when you were quiet, it was because you were mad, upset or sad. you were now in the water letting the water run down your body, so many thoughts, ‘did he like you?’ ‘why hasn’t he apologized?’ ‘did he go through the same and passed it on to me?’ ‘does he love me?’ all that repeated through your head as your vision began to blur from the tears swelling in your face, you leaned closer to the water letting the water hit your face.

suddenly you closed your eyes and there you were.

it was study hall period you were walking by yourself before you bumped into a jock, none other than fermín lopez. You looked at him smiling slightly, “sorry..” you said, he held you by your arms. “you know you look familiar..” he said, you gulped. “i-i don’t know what you’re talking about..” you said, he titled his head. “really? not after you purposely said shit about me cause of your friend?” he said, you looked at him. “i was defending my friend, i can honestly say what i want. you did the same too.” you said, he grabbed your jaw looking down at you, “don’t touch me! get off m-me!” you said, he covered your mouth. “you’re fucking annoying, quit speaking about me on situations that dont involve your name, it’s very stupid.” he said, you felt like tearing up but you wanted to say more words. “besides, that explains all the rumors about you being a whore.” he said, walking off. you looked at him.

you immediately opened your eyes, already a few tears rolling down your cheek. you turned the water off, you wiped your tears getting out the shower, you did your routine, drying yourself wrapping a towel around your hair. you changed into a black grey t-shirt that pooled over your inner thighs and a pair of plaid black and white shorts. you heard a knock on your door, you looked at the door. “y/n! it’s me! are you alright in there?” isabella quietly spoke loud and clear, almost for you to hear. you walked over to the door slightly opening it, “yea..why?” you said looking at her, “just checking..i don’t know whats up with him.” She said quietly, you smiled slightly again. “yeah..” you spoke, “you sure you don’t..want to come downsta-“ she spoke, you said “no.” she looked at you nodding her head, “okay, just sleep then it’s okay..goodnight y/n..” she spoke, “goodnight.” you said smiling at her, closing the door again. you went back to the bathroom taking the towel off your head letting your hair fall loose.

you fixed the bed giving up, knowing none other but fermín would be sleeping with you. you did the bed, placing a white blanket ontop of the duvet before undoing the bed, getting under the sheets. you turned one lap on, the warm light making you slightly smile. you turned to your side, facing the window as you fell asleep to the sound of the air conditioning in the room.

approximately a few long ass hours later..

fermín was currently downstairs with gavi, both chitchatting about how highschool was and football.. “i have to get heading, isabella is probably waiting or asleep.” gavi spoke, fermín nodded his head. his mind still thinking sbiut that argument, his heart fluttering at the thought of you. “oh and, just try to apologize to y/n..” he said, fermín nodded his head getting up before gavi went upstairs. fermín now turning off the lights, heading upstairs and into the room you two shared. he opened the door, to find you asleep. you were facing his side now, deeply asleep. he went into the bathroom going to rinse himself. meanwhile for a sleepy you, you were shifting around the bedsheets finding a comfortable spot to sleep in. you heard the door open, your eyes slightly opening just halfway. you looked at the tall boy before falling back asleep, still asleep you didn’t hear a single thing.

he looked at the floor then the bed, with no other option he chose the bed. he gave in, knowing his body was aching from the workouts he had been doing, not even feeling fermíns weight on the bed, he laid next to you. he kept his distance away, he slept facing the pther side, meanwhile you were facing his back. obviously since you were in a sleeping spell.

4:44 am..

you woke up, fermín was holding you. you frowned not wanting to move his hands, what the hell were you thinking. you gulped, still remembering the situation. it had you still pissed off, he had his chest and crotch against you. you smiled to yourself giggling, before you slowly began to grind your ass against his crotch. you bit down on your lips, your stomach began to flutter as you continued rocking your hips in circles. you heard a few whimpers coming out him, you giggled feeling him suddenly grow an erection poking your ass. he slightly woke up, grabbing your waist tightly. you widened your eyes fake sleeping, “what are you even doing y/n..” he murmured still sleepy, your chest was slightly rising quickly, heart beating fast. he smirked to himself, you were holding urself back attempting to not say anything. his hand was already sneaking up to your lower tummy, you felt his warmth caress your skin, his fingers sliding inside your shorts. your eyes widened, cheeks all flushing pink. he continued rubbing you, fingers pacing up the speed. “f-fer..” you moaned out, he smirked slapping your clit.

“what the fuck!” you sat up looking at him, he looked at you. “still upset?” he said tilting his head, you shook your head. “n-no..why..” you said, still looking at him. he held your hand, you blushed heavily. you crawled closer to him, sitting infront of him, meanwhile he was laying down back facing the wall, “did you ever mean those things..” you said looking at him, he looked at you, “no..” he said, you giggled. “not even after calling me a whore?” you said, he shook his head. “no i wasn’t thinking y/n..that was a while back..you were young too..” he said, you crossed your legs. “yeah..whatever..you did it after i lost my virginity to one of your friends..i forgot his name..” you mumbled, looking down. “we’re not friends anymore. that was awhile back.” he said, holding your chin. you looked at him. “you’re a really sweet adorable girl y/n..” he said, you looked at him. the little sparkle in his eye making your heart flutter, “you care a lot for your friends, especially everything.” he said, his fingers now tracing circles around your thigh.

he was now sitting up, you leaned closer to him wrapping your arms around him. you placed your lips on his, kissing him passionately. he kissed you back holding onto your waist, you pushed him down lips still glued onto each other sitting on his crotch. you slightly began to move your hips against him, he widened his eyes. “f-fer..” you said, he pulled away confused. “what? whats wrong?” he said sitting up, “n-nothing..i-it’s just..a-are you s..sure..?” you said looking at him, hands on his chest, he smirked shaking his head. flipping you over.

now.. you were laying down. he hovered above you, your cheeks were flushed with pink, “i want you, been wanting you. you don’t know how long i’ve wanted and waited for this.” he said, kissing you deeply, you kissed back your hands sliding in the black shirt he was wearing. he moved his lips down to your neck, starting to leave wet kisses, around your neck. his weight now ontop of you, his crotch in contact with your clothed slit as you raised your hips up trying to reach for something. he pushed your hips down, sucking on your skin. “f-fermin! s-someone’s going to n-notice!” you said smacking his arm, he groaned in response, still working on the hickey. you held onto his arm, trying to move your hips before he pulled away from your neck. you blushed heavily, he pulled your shorts down as you looked away embarrassed. “y/n look at me.” he said, you nodded looking at him, “when’s the last time you did it..” he said, you gulped. “s-since a year ago..” you mumbled, he kissed your forehead.

“wha-what..is it bad?” You said, he shook his head. “no, don’t worry..” he said, his eyes narrowing down to your panties. “how pretty..” he spoke, you rolled your eyes. “s-shut up!” you whisper yelled, he pulled you closer to him. he pulled off his grey sweats down with his boxers as well, you blushed heavily once his cock sprang out. you gulped, “fuck. I didn’t bring any protection.” he said, you smiled at him. “it’s fine..you can take me raw i-i don’t mind..” you whispered, he chuckled kissing your forehead—hands placing next to your head. he lined his cock against your entrance, spitting down rubbing his saliva all over his length. he pushed himself in, your breathing starting to hitch as you arched your back once he fully got himself in. you shut your legs around him, you were whimpering and wincing slightly in pain. he pressed his forehead down against yours, “shhhh..don’t want to wake the others up, don’t we pequeña?” he said pecking your forehead as you nodded, “m-mhm..” you breathed out, “want me to start moving?” he slightly pulled up your shirt, caressing the side of your waist.

you nodded your head, “y-yes..” you spoke under your whimper, he slightly began to thrust slowly inside of you. you held onto his arm, your stomach fluttering. “d-does it hurt?” he said, you shook your head. “n-no..j-just too big..” you moaned out, he looked down at you holding onto your hand. you looked up at him, “or do you want me to go a bit further?” he said, you nodded your head—embarrassed to speak of your noises, not to mention! your heated up red cheeks, he raised your hand placing it against the pillow. thrusting quickly, you moaned softly feeling him inch out your walls, your hands sliding inside his shirt slightly scratching his back with every small hard thrust. you were whimpering, kissing the side of his neck to hold your moans in, my my..it felt so good. you were moaning uncontrollably, not as loud..but loud enough for fermín to groan into your ear.

he fell on you, dick still thrusting into you as he rocked his hips back and forth. you held onto the back of his head, you were moaning uncontrollably. “should’ve done this e-earlier when we hated each other..” he groaned out, you cupped his cheek looking at him. your mind was foggy, nearly blind by the pleasure consuming your body you felt in a different state of mind, he continued kissing the side of your neck still moving inside you. “f-faster..please..i-i need y-you so so b-bad..” you whined out in between your moans, he pushed himself in deely, thrusting faster the bed creaking and frame slightly hitting against the wall. your eyes rolling back at the pleasure, you burried your head against the pillow. “y-yes! r-right there..!” you moaned out, hands all over his torso.

he groaned feeling you squelch around him, your legs nearly crossing around his lower back. he pulled out in the middle of his thrusts, you whined at the loss of contact as you looked at him, “w-why’d you stop..?” you said breathing heavily, he wiped the sweat off your forehead shaking his head while smiling, he slammed himself inside your walls. you gasped between your loud moan, feeling him pump harder and faster inside you. you scratched his back, moaning loudly. “so tight and nice..” he groaned into your ear, caging you with his hands. “m-mmhmm..” you said, your eyes rolling back again. he chuckled, watching your eyes roll back. “so..no more bad mouth? shit talking?” he said, you looked away moaning uncontrollably. he pulled out just halfway slamming himself back in harshly, with that swift movement he grabbed your chin, “answer me y/n.”

you moaned louder again, he chuckled again watching your response. “n-no! n-no m-more..” you moaned out, he smirked. your heatness on your tummy increasing, the small little stupid smirks and flirty talks making you flustered. “i-it’s too h-hot..” you whined, he wiped off the sweat off your forehead. “hm, i wonder why?” he said tilting his head, he thrusted harder making you moan louder. you slowly began to tighten feeling your orgasm coming, “f-fer..i’m close..” you moaned out, he rubbed your forehead. “i’m almost there..just a few more okay? you’be been doing so good pequeña..” he whispered out between his groan, you blushed heavily. your hands crawling up to the hem of his shirt, you tugged on it.

he smirked, pulling his shirt up taking it off scarding it somewhere in the room. you cupped his cheek, kissing him. he kissed back, the kiss sloppy and slow. your free hand running down his back, “i-i can’t hold on..i-i’m all tingly..” you said whining, he pulled away looking down at you, “it’s okay, just a few more. i promise.” he said, finding your g-spot and without a warning, thrusting quicker into you. your eyes rolling back yet again nearly screaming, your tummy going rollercoasters making your thighs twitch. “o-oh fuck!” you moaned out scratching his back, you seriously felt like giving up, your high coming in closer and closer. your back arched gushing all over him without any sign, causing fermín to squirt his hot warm loads inside you. you fell back on the mattress looking at him, breathing heavily, he caressed your forehead rubbing his thumb up and down. “you did so well after a year ago baby..” he said, you panted out giggling.

“again..please..” you looked at him, his eyes widened. “you’re not tired?” he said, you shook your head. “n-not not really..you’re not t-tired yourself t-though..” you croaked, he nodded, “sit up.” he said, you sat up closing your legs shut to not let any of his cum ooze out of you, he smirked. you sat up sitting on your knees as he laid down, you looked at him. “you know you want to take control..” he said, you giggled crawling over to him, you placed one leg next to his thigh, the other on his other thigh. you aligned yourself, sinking down into his cock. you moaned out, stomach fluttering again. you slowly began to rock your hips back and forth, he groaned feeling you everywhere. he raised your shirt up, you smacked his hand off. “i-i’m in charge, r-remember.” you spat out, he chuckled spanking your thigh. you moaned out, whimpering by every little grind against him.

“fuck..move faster, i don’t care if they hear us anymore.” he groaned out, you giggled starting to slightly bounce on him, you moaned uncontrollably. your ass smacking against him with every bounce, your hands on his chest nearly scratching his chest. he sat up as you looked at him, you removed your hands off his chest—bringing your hands up to your shirt. You raised your shurt to your abdomen before taking it off, you tossed it on the floor discarding it somewhere. his eye’s widening, his hands scattering to your chest..he began fondling with your boobs. You wrapped your arms around him, he buried his face down your chest, a giggle leaving out your mouth as your hand rand down his hair, he began kissing around the skin of your boobs.

“w-what are y-you doing!” you whisper yelled. he bit down on your nipple, you whiny moaned. you began bouncing a bit quicker onto him, you scratched his back. he pecked your boob before his mouth went over to your neck, he began sucking onto your skin again. your head leaned back, you held onto his arm. you stopped moving face all hot and red, “s-seriously!” You yelled, the sounds of him sucking down on your nipple and the little fat around you boob making you embarrassed. “why aren’t you moving.” he said, you gulped. “u-um-“ you moaned out once he began thrusting his hips up into you, you leaned your head back.

he bit down on your nipple as you whiny moaned, your eyes rolled back feeling the tip of his dick hit near your g-spot. “y-yes! pl-please there!” you moaned louder, he squeezed your boob hardly leaving a mark as you scratched his back. you pressed your forehead against his, he squeezed and slapped your ass harshly yet again leaving another mark. you cupped his cheek, kissing him deeply. your legs wrapping around his waist now, he kissed back letting his tongue slide inside your mouth, exploring around. you sucked around his tongue, his hand squeezing your boob still—your moans uncontrollably slipping out, the bed creaking and lastly the sounds of skin slapping just echoing around the room.

you pushed him down as he was laying down, you grabbed the hand he was squeezing and holding your boob with pinning it against the bedframe, you were leaning against him. “h-hey!” he spoke, frowning. nearly laying down, your boobs nearly infront of his face as you rocked your hips quickly against him. “f-feels so good and b-better..right baby..” you moaned out, you slightly gripped onto the bedframe making it creak. his cheeks turned pink at the comment, you giggled flicking your hair to the side. “my god, you’re so perfect..” he murmured, you began bouncing onto him moaning within every bounce of each. your ass slightly twerking down onto him, you laid your chest on him leaning near his neck. you sucked onto his neck, kissing on the spot.

that only took about a few minutes until he grabbed you by your arm, you yelped once she flipped you over—still inside you, he pinned your hands above your head. locking them with his hand tightly, “w-wait!” you whispered, he pulled out. your eyes widened knowing the next move,“n-no! d-don-fuck!” you screamed in pleasure the second he slammed himself inside you deeply, the tip of his cock hitting just near around. your legs crossing around his waist, you moaned uncontrollably with every thrust, he was gripping onto your hands causing the bed to thud. your stomach began to slowly tighten, “c-close..” you moaned out, he burried his face into your neck. pounding into you, your vision getting blurry and seeing little white stars, you moaned into his ear causing him to twitch inside of you. his grip getting looser on your hands, your nails running down his back. he groaned loudly almost immediately bursting out, he moved deeply pounding into your g-spot yet again, you bit down on his shoulder, muffling your scream. “not gonna last longer if you keep being like this..” he groaned out, you giggled kissing his cheek.

his hand sneaked under you as his fingertips began rubbing against your clit, while his cock was pulsating inside of you. you leaned your head back, arching your back moaning loudly. “k-keep going! i-i’m so c-close!” you moaned out, he continued rubbing your clit in circles. your eyes rolling back, tummy getting tighter. “i-i c-cant hold o-on!” you moaned out. his thrusts driving you insane, you moaned his name out repeatedly chanting it over and over as you gushed around him again chasing your high, he groaned loudly injecting his spurts of cum inside of you from your clenching. you panted heavily. he laid next to you, you were shaking as your head turned to look at him. “d-don’t ever bring th-this night up..w-whatever stays in here..remains quiet..” you sighed out, he chuckled nodding his head before bringing you into his chest. you rested your head on his chest, his arms wrapping around your back. “s-so..what are we after this..” you spoke, he looked down, wiping the sweat off your forehead before kissing it down.

“hmm..do you think we should start off dating..” he said, you giggled burrying your face into his chest. “you’re so adorable..” He mumbled, your eyes slowly closing. he wrapped the blanket around both of u again as you whined, “i-it’s hot..” you mumured, he played with your hair as you fell asleep. “goodnight you brat..” he murmured, falling asleep eventually himself.

12:16pm..

your arms were wrapped around fermín, his face resting against your boobs. you hummed, hand running through his hair. “it’s 12:16..we have to wake up before they suspect anything fermí..” you whispered, he groaned turning his head to the wall. you giggled, “come onnn..” you said he slightly opened his eyes looking at you he pecked your boob, you rolled your eyes playfully. his mouth wrapping around your boob, you smacked his head. “fermín!” you slightly yelled, he chuckled getting off you kissing your lips. you kissed back giggling, slightly sitting up. you were about to get up as you felt your legs about to give up, you fell whining on the floor. fermín looked down st you smirking, you sat back on the bed. “what’s wrong?” he said, “my legs..they feel funny after last night..” you murmured rubbing your eyes grabbing your panties, putting them on. “good, you were fucked just exactly how i wanted and with the way you’re walking there will be no questions.” he spoke.

you whined trying go reach, your inner thighs aching. “fer! be quiet! can you give me my shirt and shorts..” you said, he nodded his head. grabbing both shirt and shorts, he laid you down. “hey!” you said, he put the shorts on for you. your cheeks warming up, “sit up.” he said, you sat up putting the shirt over you. you hugged him, he fell on you smiling. “funny how one thing changed quickly in one night..” he spoke, you kissed his cheek. “and i thank you for that..i love you.” you said, he blushed heavily. you giggled pecking his nose, you sat up. “go get changed now silly..” you said, he groaned putting his boxers back on. you watched him put his sweats on, you bit down on your lip. “i like you without your shirt on..” you mumbled he chuckled, “you really think they’ll let me go downstairs like that?” He said, you shook your head giggling walking to the closet finding his black tank top. you blushed heavily, “carry me i can’t walk-“ you said, he chuckled.

he walked over to you, picking you up. you giggled as the two of you went downstairs. the conversations everybody had going silent once they saw you and fermín suddenly happy. “am i seeing this or are fermín and y/n now getting along.” aurora said, gavi snickered. “i don’t think that’s what happened.” he spoke, isabella smacking his head. “they just woke up don’t start..” she said sitting down next to him, you got on fermíns back due to your legs. he sat you down on the stool, you swung your legs around. “didn’t you two argue..” cristo spoke, you looked at him, his eyes widened when he realized. “Oh what the fuck.” he said, gavi turned around wanting to know. “what happened..” he said, you giggled cupping your cheeks watching fermín. “YOU TWO FUC-“ gavi whispered as isabella covered his mouth, “did you two actually..” she mouthed, you smiled before spinning yourself around with the stool. fermín walked over to you and sat next to you, everbody had noticed how he seemed different.

a few minutes later..

everybody was busy eating their breakfast or lunch, you gave fermín a look to help you get up. you slightly got up holding onto his shoulder, he got up holding you by your waist guiding you to the couch. “looks like y/n and fermín made it up and fucked guys! pay up!” gavi shouted, everybody groaned. “nobody is paying you 20 euros for fucks sake!” valeria shouted. “n-no we didn’t!” you pushed him off, your legs wobbly and shaking. he smirked squeezing your ass without everybody noticing, “are you sure? from the looks of last night you couldn’t stop moaning over and o-“ you covered his mouth, “be quiet!” you said holding onto his shoulder.

“if you be quiet, maybe we can go at it again.”

#football imagine #football x reader #football smut #football fanfic #fermin lopez fanfic #fermin lopez x reader #fermin lopez smut #fermin lopez imagine

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seeingivy · 1 month

Text

death by a thousand cuts

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

an: a wild taylor as gojo has appeared. enjoy. satoru as taylor swift anon who is always in the asks, this is for you. i see you and i hear you.

“holy shit. there’s no way you’re on his fucking linked in during class?” megumi whispers.

you feel your eyes widen as you look to your left to find a very, deeply distraught megumi staring at you. and it’s almost like clockwork, the way he abandons his accounting spreadsheet – and quickly slides into the messages app on his laptop.

the three consecutive buzzes of your phone thrum under your thigh come before you see nobara and yuuji turn their heads back, two rows ahead of you in the lecture hall, and looking awfully more distraught than megumi.

“you’re kidding.” nobara mouths.

“freak!” yuuji whispers, earning you a set of weird glances from the group at your right.

you glare at the two of them, before turning to megumi and bringing your foot down on top of his. megumi winces, giving you a very characteristic and unbothered eye roll, before he returns to finishing up his spreadsheet.

you pull your hood up over your ears, cheeks warm and pink from embarrassment, before you focus back on the screen.

you know that he’s right. that there is really no point at looking at his account – not when you have all of the details memorized.

Satoru Gojo Senior Data Science Student @ Tokyo Technical Institute

three work experiences. data analytics intern for the justice project. hackathon project lead. meadow investments development engineer.

two degrees under his education. because he’s dual enrolled and set to get a bachelor’s in computer science and a masters in engineering by the end of his term next year.

and one organization. alpha kappa psi, the business fraternity.

the only reason you were at the scene of the crime.

it was all miwa’s fault. and partially yours, for being so willing to come to her aid – at all times. when she asked you to accompany her to the bid party – just because she wanted to support mechamaru fresh in their new relationship and didn’t do too well in social situations – you had all but obliged. at the most, you would get a cheap shot and brownie points to get miwa to run the errands for the entire month.

except when it came to it, miwa wasn’t nervous at all, only because mechamaru had spent the past few weeks hyping her up to his pledge class. which left you alone, stuck to roam around until she was ready to leave at the end of the night.

the floor was sticky with beer, there was an almost rancid, putrid smell lingering in the air that you couldn’t pinpoint, and you were stuck with sixty of your peers – shitfaced to a point you didn’t even know was humanly possible.

and with miwa long gone, doing god knows what with mechamaru and you were stuck leaning against the fridge, bored out of your mind. that’s when he found you – pawing your way through the food.

his smell was the first thing that caught your attention, second to the fact that he was hovering over your shoulder, cheeks brushing against each other. it was almost minty and stark – almost eradicating the lingering smell of weed that was burning your nose.

the skin on his cheek was soft, featherlike when it brushed against yours.

“whatcha doing, dollface?”

you immediately curl your nose, turned off by the unnecessary sweetness. you had your fill of dirty frat boys during orientation week, three years ago, and knew damn well that you had to steer clear of whatever was happening here.

“playing where’s waldo, genius. i’m obviously looking for food.” you state.

you reach for the closest box, a perfectly cut slice of cake, encased in a wrap. the plastic is covered in messy scribbles on the top – spelling out satoru in loopy letters.

“you’re just going to eat someone else’s cake?” he asks.

“how do you know it’s not mine?”

“intuition.”

it’s only then that you stop yourself to look up at this stranger whispering in your ear, only to find glimmering blue eyes, peering over the top of a set of sunglasses. the sunglasses are god awful – even worse with the combination of the tanktop and the snapback he’s wearing backwards.

you swear there’s a faded, glittery pink lipstick mark indented at the top of his cheek.

“you-you’d be shocked.” you stutter, as you pull the box out of the fridge and place it on the counter.

he momentarily walks away – which is when you take the second to ogle him in full. a toned back, a tattoo on the top of his shoulder that you can’t entirely make out. white hair, veiny arms, and a silver necklace hanging against his collarbone.

he returns back, two forks in hand, before making a dramatic display of handing you one.

“for you, my sweet lady.”

“i’m not sure why you brought two forks. who said i was going to share with you?”

he grins, leaning his head back to laugh like a little kid, before he scoots closer to you – the sweet scent coming back.

“c’mon.”

he reaches for your hand, before lifting it to place it against his chest. you can feel his heart beating under the feeling of your fingertips, his eyes wide and expectant as he waits for and answer.

“do me a favor, yeah? let me share my cake with a pretty girl at a party. there’s only a limited amount of joys in this life.”

you scoff, before pulling your hand back.

“you’re corny.”

he shrugs.

“you’ll get used to it.”

you groan, as you slam your computer shut – the image of his shiny headshot staring back at you getting burned into your eyes.

stupid. stupid, stupid, stupid.

one stupid joke, a slice of cake, and somehow you woke up in his bed the next day being spooned by him. and one thing led to the next because he was somehow taking you to brunch, then settling his head in between your legs before dinner, and then back at your house the next day.

it was an arrangement at that point. the dinners, what happened in between, and the morning after.

you’re not sure what the terms and conditions are in a predicament like yours – with a guy like satoru. you know for a fact that he still flirts with other girls, because you’d see him walking with a different one every time you stopped at the coffee shop. but then he’d invite you to dinner, honey sweet words falling from his lips before he tucked you in for bed each night.

friends with benefits. but he buys you gifts and takes you to dinner. and calls you beautiful. comes to your house after frat parties, with the faintest scent of a flowery perfume on his neck that you swear you’re imagining.

letting him walk out of your apartment was your own personal tourture, of death by a thousand cuts, because every step farther away from you was closer to someone else.

and that sinking, deep rooted dread, only got worse as time went on.

you feel a hard smack against your head.

“do your fucking homework.”

satoru gojo has distinct features that you always find yourself staring at. a mole on his shoulder, a scar on his pointer finger, and the rings he wore. sometimes, you find yourself asking them about him.

you reach forward, locking your fingers in on the chain around his neck, and using it to pull him closer. it's of a little postage stamp, though the silver looks rusted – like he’s worn it to death. he’s quick to oblige, a warm kiss on your cheek, before you yank again.

“what, baby?” he whines.

“where’d you get your necklace?”

he leans back, looking down at the chain, before his eyes meet yours again. there’s a dim fluorescent glow coming in from the blinds of the window, sun far gone in the horizon, and it’s the only thing that makes this bearable.

that his piercing blue eyes somewhat subdued from the lack of light.

“you want it, princess?”

“what? no. i just like it. i wasn’t –”

it’s a boyish giggle that comes out of satoru’s mouth as he quickly unfastens the clasp from his neck before tangling it in his fist.

you’re not an idiot – because it’s his freezing cold fingers pulling your shirt over your head – before he pulls you into his lap.

this was one of satoru’s favorite things to do. pull you close, till you’re straddling him in his lap, and you can feel his breath tickling against his collarbone as he whispers sweet nothings to you.

you wonder if he can see your blush in the dim light. if that’s part of why he likes it – seeing the effect he has on you.

he reaches forward, pulling your hair to the side and pressing a kiss to your collarbone, before he fastens his silver necklace around your neck.

“you know. when i said i liked your necklace, i said i liked it on you. i wasn’t asking for it.”

“but i like seeing you wear it more.”

satoru’s eyes are focused as he fixes the tangles in the chain, letting the little charm hang right in the little divot where your collarbone ends. and then he brings his hands in around your face, nearly squishing the softness of your cheeks together, before he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“will you wear my hoodie?” he jokes.

you scoff.

“are we in sixth grade? also, it quite literally says ‘yuuta’s big’ on the sleeve. that’s not obvious at all.”

satoru rolls his eyes.

“you would love yuuta, though. he’s your pseudo little brother, because you’re with me, you know?”

you shake your head, as you crawl out of his lap, and reach for the water bottle on the side table. you try to ground yourself, head spinning as you try to decipher what that means – and tap your feet on the floor.

you can feel him at your side, his observant blue eyes burning holes into your skin, as you note the steady, almost cautious tone in his voice.

“you okay? something i said?”

you shake him off.

“yeah, yeah. sorry. got out of the mood there for a second, just have a lot to do this week.”

satoru hums, before bringing his hands around your torso, leaning his entire weight against you as he settles his chin into the crook of your neck.

“you ever think you work too hard, pretty girl?”

“working hard or hardly working?” you joke. even his corny jokes were rubbing off on you.

you hear satoru scoff, before he starts rubbing circles into the bare skin of your stomach, as the goosebumps start to trickle over your skin.

“oh, don’t be like that. you’re the smartest person i know.”

“is this a clever way to get into my pants?”

“no. it’s me telling you that i think you’re very intelligent, you’re very driven, and you don’t have to worry about if you’re working hard enough. i know the only breaks you take are to go to that dumb movie theater downtown with your grumpy friend or when you scream my name every –”

“satoru.” you whine.

“don’t say my name like that. it turns me on.”

you grin.

“satoru.” you hum, teasing him.

“fuck off.”

he pauses, before pressing a lingering kiss to the side of your neck.

“but really. you’re a clever, you’re pretty, and irritatingly very accomplished. slow down so i can catch up, okay?”

“that’s rich coming from you. mister three internships, two degrees in four years.”

it’s quiet.

“how’d you know that?” satoru asks.

you can hear the smile in his voice. and the dread pooling in your stomach.

“what?”

“how’d you know it was two degrees?”

“you-you told me.”

“no, i didn’t. i just got accepted a few weeks ago, i haven’t even told some of my friends yet.”

you groan, before bringing your hands up to your face. you bury your eyes into the sockets of your eyes, getting caught embarrassedly red handed.

“where?”

you sigh.

“i stalked you on linked in.”

satoru grins wide, before pulling you back onto the bed and into his embrace. you can hear his giggling in your ear as you try to pull away.

“oh, baby you didn’t.”

“i had to make sure i didn’t apply where you worked!”

“no, you didn’t. we don’t even work in the same field.”

“you don’t know! i could change my mind!”

satoru laughs, before leaning forward to press a quick kiss to your lips.

“you have a crush on me! angel, you should have just said so!”

you give him a hard push, before crossing your arms over your chest.

“quit teasing. so i’m a stalker! so what? i just want to make sure i’m not putting out for a loser. you could be coding some AI for the government for all i know and i don’t want to be –”

“okay, okay. relax. i’m just teasing, i just think it’s cute you keep tabs on me.”

you glare.

“i don’t like you.” you state.

he rolls his eyes, before flopping his head down on your pillow and tapping the space next to him. you crawl into the space, before nestling yourself into his arms. you can feel your brain spiraling – instant regret for saying too much, being too weird, too harsh, and not saying what you felt – as you focus on the feeling of his hands running through your hair.

“i can tell that the hamster in your brain is working overtime. just go to bed, okay?”

“okay, lock the door when you leave?”

“i don’t have plans tomorrow morning. if you could humble yourself to eat breakfast with me, i’d actually like that.”

you frown, stomach jolting in your guts.

he had never stayed for an arbitrary reason – like spending the night just to sleep next to you. you shut your eyes, burying your face deeper into the sweet smell of his skin, and throw the thought away.

“mimosas?”

“you want to drink that early in the morning?”

“it’s saturday. gives me a good kick to start my day.”

“aren’t mimosas made with champagne? i hate champagne. and it makes you really handsy.”

you smile.

“you like when i’m handsy.”

“i mean, yes. but we can just do pancakes and go to the library together so we can do work. i’ll keep you accountable and find you snacks when you get inevitably cranky. then when you come home all tired, we can be as handsy as we want. it’s more satisfying when you have to work for it.”

you groan, burying the complications of spending yet another day with him in the back of your head as you try to flutter your eyes shut – in futile attempts to quiet the thoughts racketing around in your mind.

“okay, okay whatever. we’ll see tomorrow, i just – i’m really tired right now and –”

“shut up, dollface. just sleep.”

you get invited to the alpha kappa psi formal. miwa – who found out from mechamaru, whose pledge class brother is very close with satoru’s little yuuta – said that satoru wanted you there.

then why didn’t he ask you?

you bite the bullet anyways, borrowing one of kugisaki’s pale blue slip dresses – and attend as mechamaru’s pledge brother – todo’s date – to get in.

he’s a strange guy, who doesn’t pay you too much attention. it’s one polite wave and a cardstock ticket he hands you before you don’t see him again for the rest of the night. and you’re stuck with miwa and mechamaru, who are bigger fans of pda than you are.

“how’s satoru, y/n?” mechamaru asks.

“ah. he’s good. you know as much as i do, right?”

you can feel yourself sweating.

would satoru leave if you said too much? if you embarrassed him in front of one of his brothers? did they know you guys had an…arrangement? was it an arrangement? were you seeing each other? why did they think he invited you?

“dunno. aren’t you guys really good friends?” mechamaru asks.

“um, yeah.”

“yeah, he was telling us you studied together at the library the other day. figured he’d want you to meet suguru and ieiri.”

suguru and ieiri.

“yeah. i’m gonna go get a drink. do you guys want anything?”

“i’m good, love. we’ll be here.” miwa states, giving a reassuring squeeze to your bicep before you drag your heels to the makeshift bar.

you walk over to the bar, straight to the open bottle of rosé that has your name on it, as you lean against the wall. you pour way too much into your flute, nearly spilling it over the back of your hand, as you curse.

“do you want help?”

you look up to find a boy looking at you, wide eyes, with his bangs sweeping down the side of his face. he has tired eyes, but it’s a seemingly bright smile he offers you.

“sorry, yeah. i’ll clean it up, i swear.”

“no, no. no problem.”

he hands you a handkerchief from his pocket, before he pulls your hand in his and wipes the excess pink stain on it. you cringe at the stain on the cloth before he tucks it back into his pocket.

“i’m sorry about that. that’s really kind of you, i just –”

“no problem! you seemed…kind of frustrated there. happy to help.”

you shoot him a polite smile, before nervously sipping – maybe a little too fast for comfort. but the warm feeling is enough to temporarily curb the nerves, which is perfect for your sake.

“are you a brother?” you ask.

“yeah! is this your first formal?”

“yeah. i’m seeing someone in your frat and he asked me to come. well, he didn’t ask me to come, he told someone else he wanted me to come so i came as one of the other brother’s date. but not really his date, because i haven't seen him since then. or the guy i’m talking to.”

he leans back, eyes wide.

“right. do you like him? if…if you mind me asking.”

“my date? i can’t even remember his name. he’s like a tall, muscular guy. man bun?”

“no, yeah. his name is todo, i figured that’s who you were talking about. i mean the other guy.”

“oh. well, yeah. but he’s so…i don’t know. he’s a frat guy. and a chronic flirt. the first time i met him he had a lipstick stain on his cheek. and he smells like girly perfume every time he comes to see me, so –”

he sucks his teeth in.

“idiot.” he murmurs.

“what?”

“no! oh my god, not you! i meant…me! just thought of something. gotta run for a second, i’ll be back.”

“wait, you didn’t even tell me your –”

you watch as he rushes off, in a speed walking fervor, as mechamaru and miwa join you at your side. they give you a polite smile, which you return, as you swirl the glass in your hand.

“mechamaru. do you know that guy who just walked away? tired looking, the long hair?”

“oh, yuuta. yeah, what about him?”

“yuuta?”

“yeah, you’ve never met him? he’s like gojo’s pride and joy.”

you sink against the wall, embarrassment coursing through you, as you down the rest of your glass. and then three more, which is accompanied by weary looks from miwa. and after finishing off the entire bottle – an hour and a half into the party without seeing satoru – you’re set on leaving.

and it’s only on your rageful stomp out the door, well past tipsy, that you find the godawful man of the hour, leaning against the wall.

it’s enough to fill you with a rage. because he’s leaning against the wall, shirt slightly unbuttoned, and smiling brightly at whichever girl he’s talking to. you’re almost positive that it’s probably her flowery perfume that you’re smelling on his neck at the time, that she’s who he sees when he’s not with you, and it’s like pins and needles in your stomach.

and you almost make your escape, before he catches you on your way out.

“y/n? wait, y/n!”

you’re one step out the door, before he grabs your bicep, and pulls back, giving you a bright grin.

“i didn’t know you were here yet. i’ve been waiting, come here, c’mhere.” satoru mumbles, quickly rushing you over to the group of three people standing by the door, who all turn their heads for you.

you groan as you turn to the group of them. it’s the same tired eyes as before – that you now know belong to yuuta – and two strangers you’ve never seen before. a guy almost as tall as satoru, with swooping bangs and a manbun, and the girl – who you can’t stand to look at, with perfect beach waves swooping past her shoulders.

and what you can’t help but notice is a sparkling, silver postage stamp necklace around her neck. the same one around yours, that you had been fidgeting with since satoru gave it to you weeks ago.

“here’s your drink, satoru.” the girl states, handing him a glass of white wine that he takes.

it’s enough to make your rage bubble to the surface.

“the lady of the hour, guys! this is y/n, she’s my –”

you scoff.

“are you kidding?”

“hm?”

“lady of the hour? for what, your jokes?”

you watch as satoru’s face drops, before he sets the glass of wine down on the closest table.

“huh? what do you mean? i wanted to introduce you to ieiri, i know you’re going to love her.”

you can feel the tears accumulating in your eyes, that you’re almost positive that satoru notices, because his face visibly droops even more, this time replaced with genuine concern that sends a pang in your chest that has you wrestling your wrist out of his hold.

“you…you’re so mean, satoru.”

“baby, what?”

“don’t…why are you calling me that? every morning you wake up next to me and you’re still not my baby. that’s not exactly fair. you smell like a different girl and you still…you still flirt with other people.” you whisper.

his eyes go wide.

“no, i –”

“every time you walk away i’m half convinced you’re just going to someone else you’re stringing along like me. i’m sitting there thinking about how you’ve walked hundreds of steps away from me hundreds of times and it feels like a thousand little cuts every time you do and it kills me that you don’t even care.”

you can feel that whatever is coming out is word vomit, like it’s started and now it won’t ever stop.

“i see you everywhere, because you literally come everywhere with me just to leave. any song you’ve sang is now our song, any movie, literally anything you’ve even touched. i can’t even wear certain clothes without thinking about how you complimented me in them and i’m stuck thinking about how you probably say that to everyone. you don’t even drink wine and you’re over here drinking some with this random girl at this party, when that’s my thing that we drink wine together. you gave her the same necklace as me, and you apparently asked me to come to but didn’t even tell me about to my face? then you sick your little frat brother to ask me if i like you just so you can….i don’t know, i don’t know what you’d do with that information!”

you watch as satoru pinches the bridge of his nose, only to turn to the three of them at his side, who are all shaking their heads dismissively.

“suguru. i fucking told you he had to be leaving something out.”

“well, i didn’t realize it was going to be like this, shoko. no wonder she won’t date him.”

you swallow hard, as you seem to sink deeper in the pits of your own embarrassment, which seems to be a record low.

“fuck. you…you said her name is shoko?”

geto offers you a smile.

“that’s right.”

“like satoru’s hometown friend? the…the lesbian?”

“that would be me.” she confirms.

you cringe.

“oh my god. i’m really sorry, i’m really drunk. i drank an entire bottle of wine after i accidentally talked to yuuta and i just –”

“well, i’d get drunk if i were you too. he smells like other girls? and flirts with them?” shoko asks.

“i do not! i don’t even know what you’re talking about. i didn’t even know she even liked me back till twenty minutes ago.”

“the necklace is a nice gesture. satoru, geto, and i all have these matching postage stamp necklaces from this shitty place in our hometown. we got them together when we graduated so we wouldn’t forget about what was important when we all go to college.”

you turn to satoru.

“and you just gave that to me?”

“well, i knew you’d take care of it.”

“that’s like…that’s like sentimental, satoru. you literally gave me your childhood best friends memento and that’s so-”

“well, obviously that seems like a little much if you think we’re just friends with benefits!”

you scoff.

“you’re the one who wanted to be friends with benefits.” you clarify.

“what are you talking about? you literally cringe away from any affection i give you!” satoru retorts.

“because you flirt with other girls!”

“not since you! why would i flirt with other people?”

“you tell me. i smell the perfume.”

satoru groans.

“that’s your perfume, dipshit. you left your hoodie at my house and it smells like you so sometimes i sleep next to it and then i smell like it. how do you not recognize your own smell?”

you pause.

“you do what?”

“not in a fucking weird way. i just miss you when you’re busy. you smell nice, it’s –”

“hopeless.” yuuta states, earning him a nod from suguru.

“you didn’t even ask me to come here with you.” you state.

“shoko had to be my date so she could come. i had to make yuuta drag maki in through a window because geto was his plus one. i just wanted you here so you could meet my childhood friends, who i care about. they’ve heard about you for so long that i just thought –”

“you talk to your friends about me?”

“an insufferable amount. though most of his agony seems self inflicted now, because he’s a fucking idiot.” shoko confirms.

“okay, let’s get y/n some water, yeah?” yuuta suggests, before shuffling the two of them off, to which satoru sends a grateful smile before turning back to you.

he crouches down a little, just so your eyes are level, as you frown at him.

“is this what that hamster in your brain is doing up there? overthinking literally everything?”

“you –”

“if you asked, i would have clarified for you. we’ve always been exclusive and if you talked to someone else while we were talking, i’m going to have to kill him.”

“don’t be stupid.”

“i’ll just send a threat! sign his emails up for scientology. he was talking to my girl!”

you glare at him.

“you…you’re so stupid, satoru. you confuse me so much and i just…you take up too much space. you’re everywhere – literally no part of me that you haven’t taken up and i just…”

satoru frowns, before pulling his hands around your face, and angling up by your chin to look at him.

“don’t give up now. it just got good.” he whispers.

“satoru.”

“cmon. let me lick all thousand of your cuts clean.”

“ew. you’re…you’re so gross, satoru.”

“okay, that was just a dirty joke. but let me make it up to you, really. i didn’t realize you…you were thinking all that. i thought you just liked me because i was sexy and because i eat your –”

“satoru!”

“please. let me into that hamster ball in your brain. i deserve some space.”

“it’s all boarded up. the hamster ball house burned down.” you groan.

he leans back, like he’s inspecting your face, before he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“dunno. i’m seeing some flickering lights in there. i can tell your hamster in there really wants me.”

“quit….quit calling me a hamster! you’re so…ugh. i have a headache and i’m drunk and i’m really confused and i just –”

satoru mimics a little salute, before he loops his hand around your waist and walks you towards the little bar.

“okay, test run. i’m on boyfriend duty. if this goes well enough, you give me a chance tomorrow.”

you squint your eyes at him.

“okay, water first. then i have two baby aspirin for you in my pocket. three kisses on the cheek if you won’t insult me after and a compliment if you won’t kill me.”

“really?”

“yuuta told me you downed a whole bottle. since you’re too mad to be handsy, you have a headache. but don’t worry, i came prepared. meaning i forced yuuta to find some baby aspirin or else. and also, kisses because you smell good and you’re wearing this pretty blue dress that’s the same color as my eyes and you’re about to meet my favorite people ever and you’re my favorite person ever, so this is a big deal.” satoru responds.

he’s rambling so hard that you feel like you can see the hamster in his mind working overtime.

“what’s the verdict?”

satoru’s voice is like a thousand bullets in your head as you smack him in the face, trying to silence the chattering coming out of his mouth.

“satoru. what…what time is it?”

“six in the morning. but it’s the next day and i need to know how my test run went.”

“your….what?”

satoru whines.

“no, no don’t tell me you’re too drunk to remember? my test run! to be your boyfriend?”

you groan, flickering your eyes open to the alarm clock on your bed, spelling out the time. 6:07 am.

“no, i remember. you need the answer at six in the morning when i’m hungover?”

“this is agony! i really get this whole thousand cuts thing now, this hurts. tell me.”

you push his face into the pillow, before mumbling it as quietly as you can.

“you pass.”

“huh?”

“you heard me. you passed. just…shut up, please.”

it’s his giggles you hear before sleeping and a warm kiss on your forehead, before you pass out again.

satoru as taylor swift songs masterlist

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