#fuck me in the infinity pool

[rafesthroatbaby]

SPICY WEEKEND GETAWAY WITH RAFE 😮‍💨

#bent me over the hotel balcony #fuck me in the infinity pool #hard thrusts against the glass #make the glass SHAKE #just everywhere ok #rafe cameron #drew starkey #rafe smut #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks

[island-in-the-shadows]

The delulu is strong with me this late morning...picturing Felix and Oliver globe trotting and honeymooning. Mhm. Even, potentially, having sex in a rooftop infinity pool in front of a Deutsche Bank like in that one BL show. This is what happens when you're writing...

#writing stuff #saltburn fanfiction #cattonquick #I am strong in the delulu #not actually gonna have them fuck in the rooftop infinity pool #but it's fun to imagine just because the scene in kinnporsche is quite hot and it gives me the giggles because of Deutsche Bank

[fionarara]

still randomly remembering that one time i attended the creator of Minecraft's annual house party even though i've never even played that video game lmao and after getting to watch Skrillex dj in such an intimate setting (surreal), we all hung out and he had like a harem of cute girls surrounding him on the couch, haha it seemed super platonic though and he was really respectful,,, literally he was so kind to me and everyone,, by far the nicest celeb i've ever met besides elijah wood.

#the infinity pool view was truly epic tho. best i've ever seen like #i've been to my fair share of random LA hills parties whenever i'm in california where the house was fire #but this one took the cake #apparently he beat out beyonce n jay-z in getting the property or somethingn.. as i later learned by someone that evening ?/ hm random fact #also he had like a massively ginormous room *inside* his home dedicated to displaying LIFE SIZE transformers and actual cars i felt so tiny #i wish i could remember that moment better but i think the party drugs i was on kicked in right then lol #the uber ride home later was a mess though bc i was p fucked up by the end and i had to teach some guy about #consent with the girl he was with in the backseat and i got really protective of her. she was so grateful she ended up kissing me instead ! #like actuallymaking out with me and i was shocked but okay hell ya why not right? #i think the dude understood and got what i was saying in the end tho so that's dope #fuck i love teaching problematic 3D men how to think with their heart and not their cocks<3 #i honestly think i get super off on it. i've done it too many times to count #teachable non-misogyny moments FTW bling~bling! <3 #sorry this is so random i just needed somewhere to dump this thought out bc i could never to do it anywhere else in my actual life lmao #anyway hope y'all have been healthy and well <3 how's the anime world doin...? #haikyuu's comin back soon eh? and AOT too? maybe maaaybe i'll be back around then 👋 #➕ara~ara gomen ! #minecraft #video games

[ghoul-haunted]

not to be horny on main but we all know I go through these shows like a bag of chips, so: the sex scenes in this show are so fucking good I'm obsessed with the lighting. and also the audio balancing with the everything and the piano line is really good? which was not something I was expecting to focus on, but hey! I love it when the audio balancing in a show is good

#can't wait to see y'all fuck in an infinity pool #i'd kill for porsche im not even kidding. me 🤝 kinn on this one

[bkgpackets]

bakugou, who’s now well into his early thirties, has collected enough hero of the year awards, so he goes vacationing a lot; his favourite places would be rural areas that offer good food and are usually on the hotter and more humid side

you meet him in a five-star hotel in malaysia, it was 6 pm, the sun is setting and you’re alone in the pool, having been sent here for a business trip, it’s the last few days and you get to have them to yourself, it’s cool and quiet, kids who splash around in the shallow areas have gone back to their hotel rooms and families have started looking to tourist spots for food

the sun is golden and gentle on your countenance with your face still dripping with water, you hear someone swim up next to you to land themselves onto the swim-up bar next to the infinity pool, you give them a glance while moving your cocktail glass farther to give them space, and holy fucking shit he’s blonde, he’s ripped and his face rests so pretty

‘hey, i’m y/n, where’re you from?’ you smile as nicely as you can, timid in nature from his intimidating glow, ‘i’m bakugou, i’m from japan,’ the way he speaks has a nice accent to it, fluent but not entirely native, it makes his otherwise rough voice soft.

‘you travelling alone?’ he asks after a moment of silence passes, you don’t look at him but continue gazing at the now purple clouds, the sun is slowly dipping behind the islands from afar, it looks majestic.

‘mhm, i probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but i have some faith,’ you hum, the way you finish your sentence is a gateway and an invitation for him to continue speaking, and he takes the bait with enlightenment, ‘you drink yeah? there’s a bar on the rooftop that i’ve been meaning to go to, so come with me?’

you look away from the mesmerising sky and at the mouth-watering sight next to you, the way he looks at you makes you uncharacteristically shy, you blush and head towards the ladders, ‘i’m staying in room 106, see you there at 7 pm.’

#hi guys i’m back:) don’t hate me but this was inspired as now im travelling in malaysia!! #bakugou headcanons #bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x you #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugou drabble #bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugo #bakugo katuski #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x you #katsukibakugou #sy.katsuki

[writing-for-marvel]

Day 4: Overstimulation

Mob!Bucky's Kinktober Honeymoon

Mob!Bucky Barnes × Wife!Reader

Summary: Bucky’s determined to give you an orgasm in every room of your private villa.

Warnings: strictly 18+, smut, fingering, oral (fem receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, spanking

Word count: 1.8k

A/N: dividers by me, please do not use. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

💋 Join my Kinktober Taglist 💋

Kinktober Masterlist | Main Masterlist I Library | Ko-fi

The villa Bucky chose for the first week of your honeymoon is absolutely stunning - views directly out onto a white sandy beach from a large infinity pool, a built-in spa and sauna you are already eager to try out as well as being completely fitted out with the most lush furnishings and extravagant amenities.

But he doesn’t give you time to enjoy any of it, for as soon as you walk over the threshold, Bucky bends you over the substantial kitchen island, pushes your skirt up around your waist, pulls your panties down to your ankles and licks a stripe up your slit, paying no mind to the two bodyguards following you into the residence.

He starts out eagerly, pushing his warm, wet tongue into your pussy as his thick fingers spread your folds bare for him. His name falls from your lips in a low moan, but this only spurs him on, wanting to hear his wife repeat his name like the God the majority of New York believe him to be.

As he relentlessly devours you, your orgasm builds, the band in your lower stomach tightening with every flick of his tongue, lapping up the arousal flooding from your core that Bucky himself is responsible for.

“Fuck Buck, right there, don’t stop.” If it weren’t your beloved husband spreading your ass cheeks wide and nose deep in your pussy, you might be embarrassed by how quickly you are hurtling towards your release.

But James Barnes knows every inch of your body with exact precision, he has memorised the map of how to navigate to the height of your pleasure and has the uncanny ability to bring you right to the edge with a single touch. Something he prides himself on.

Your first orgasm comes when his thumb toys with your puckered asshole and his plump lips suckle on your clit. The smooth marble underneath your fingertips provides no grip, no traction to pull yourself away from Bucky’s onslaught.

Before you can even take a breath to stabilise yourself after your high, Bucky picks you up bridal style and walks your limp body over to the couch of the connecting lounge room.

He places you on all fours on the leather couch, and after ridding himself of all nuisance clothing, he drives himself inside your sopping entrance without any notice. Your velvety walls burn deliciously as you stretch to accommodate him - a stretch that you will crave for the rest of your life.

“Good girl, take it all.” Bucky commands. He starts out at a brutal pace, but somehow with each thrust he seems to both accelerate the movement of his hips and plunge deeper within you, filling you completely and kissing your cervix.

Wet, salacious sounds fill the grand room, along with your strained voice chanting Bucky’s name like a prayer. You bury your face in the top of the backrest of the couch in an attempt to muffle the obscene moans falling from your lips as Bucky grips your hips tighter and continues fucking into you relentlessly.

You feel him press an affectionate kiss between your shoulder blades before his domineering hand grasps your neck and pulls you back into him, the warm length of his body pressing against yours.

“Be a good wife and take everything your husband gives you. Every. Fucking. Inch.” His words are growled into your ear and a shiver runs down your spine. He punctuates each word with a hard slap to your ass.

He reaches around your body, his hand finding your clit with the ease of magnets attracting one another. As he begins teasing your sensitive bundle of nerves, you feel like you’re floating, unable to come down from the pure bliss Bucky has fucked you into, every collision of his hips against yours bringing you closer to your inevitable end.

“This fat cock feels good, doesn’t it?” Luckily it’s a rhetorical question because in your current euphoric state you can’t find any words to express how good your husband is making you feel. “Be a good little slut and cum on it for me.”

You don’t even realise tears are leaking from your eyes when your next orgasm slams into you like a train, thighs quivering, inadvertently trying to crawl to the other side of the couch to find some relief from the spasming pleasure, even though you know Bucky will never let you go until you’ve ridden out your entire high.

The next room you find yourself in is the adjacent dining room. The table had been set for your arrival, but Bucky soon sweeps the settings at one end crashing onto the floor as he lays your back gently on the mahogany tabletop.

“God damn, I’ll never get enough of this tight pussy.” Bucky exclaims as he pushes inside you again. You gasp at the sudden intrusion of his thick length, every part of your body twitching with heightened awareness.

His thrusts are more languid this time, longer and deeper, but you’re so sensitive from your previous orgasms that you’re already right on the edge with just a few pumps.

“You’re so beautiful when you cum, my love.” His voice is softer in tone, words soothing as he shifts the position of your legs so they instead rest on his shoulders. His eye contact is just as intense as the momentum of his hips slapping yours. “Need you to do it again for me. Want you looking in my eyes when I make you cum.” Bucky urges, his hand migrating down to where your bodies meet, his thumb rubbing tight circles over your puffy and oversensitive clit.

The pressure building within your core borders on agonising, you’re sure that this impending orgasm will be larger than any else of your married life thus far, and with how he’s hitting every spot inside you that engages an electric current surging up your spine, you know you’re so close.

It only takes another flick of your clit and you’re there, falling over a cliff and plunging into a deep ocean of pure pleasure.

“Fuck, I’m cumming again!” You announce as your back arches off the dinning table, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your entire body convulses by the sheer magnitude of your orgasm.

“That’s it baby, keep ‘em coming.” Bucky doesn’t let up, smirking as you writhe in front of him. “Soak me sweetheart.”

And you do just that.

Before you even realise what’s happening, your release gushes out of you, soaking Bucky’s stomach and thighs, the force of your squirt pushing him out of you. He rubs his bulbous tip frantically over your clit, prolonging your high and milking every last drop of arousal from you.

You sense him pick you up again, a soft kiss placed to your hairline as you move throughout the house again.

Much later in the night, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum, the line between each orgasm blurring, waves of pleasure melding into one huge tsunami. You can’t even remember which room you last came in, mind in a complete daze, all you can perceive is Bucky’s looming presence over you and the way he’s playing your body like a fiddle, each stroke, strum and nip brings you closer to your next high like a symphony orchestra playing to a crescendo.

“Too much.” You attempt to mumble, unsure if you’re even articulating the words correctly, feebly pushing at his veiny arm to give yourself a semblance of a break from the overwhelming sensations your husband is subjecting you to.

It feels like your entire body is trembling on the king sized bed you get to call yours for the next week as you attempt to steady your breathing, trying to focus on anything other than the violently intense sensations Bucky is responsible for between your legs.

“Just one more, darling. I know you can give me another. You’re doing so well for me.” He coos before his lips latch onto your breast, the tip of his tongue lightly circling your areola before suckling your hardened nipple.

“I can’t.” A sob bubbles up your throat, understanding if you really wanted to stop you could use your prearranged safeword. It isn’t that you want to stop - it just feels too good, the pleasure so earth shatteringly intense that it borders on pain.

“Yes you can. I know you can, baby.” He praises, planting a sweet kiss to your sweaty forehead as you mewl, Bucky’s nimble fingers continuing to move in and out of you at a damaging pace. “Do it for me.”

All it takes is those four short words. Do it for him, do it for your husband, and you’re coming undone again for him. You whine his name as the most immense pleasure fires from the base of your spine, spreading like exploding fireworks through the rest of your body.

You don’t feel Bucky pull his fingers from you, nor do you discern his weight drop beside you in bed. It takes a couple minutes before your mind becomes a clear stream of thoughts and you can decidedly feel your extremities again.

“My perfect wife.” Bucky mumbles into your neck as you work to catch your breath and bring yourself assuredly back to earth after your visit to the heavens.

You turn your head to meet his gaze, and if you weren’t already breathless from the numerous orgasms he’s pulled from your body, the pure love and affection swirling in his stunning blue eyes you’ve fallen in love with would punch all the air from your lungs.

Warmth blooms in your chest at the soft, devoted smile painted on his features. He places a sweet kiss to your nose and then to your sweaty hairline.

“You still with me, darling?”

“Just barely.” You chuckle, finding enough energy to lift your arm up and draw along his sharp jaw with your index finger. Bucky takes your hand in his, kissing your knuckles and adjusting your extravagant wedding ring so that the scintillating diamond sits perfectly centred on your finger, before pulling your body into him so there is no space remaining between you.

“How about we run you a warm bath?” Bucky offers in a low tone, lifting your chin with a single bent finger so he can slot his supple lips against your own in a tender kiss. “We didn’t quite make it to the ensuite, so if we’re to complete the set, you still owe me one more orgasm.”

💋 Join my Kinktober Taglist 💋

Mob!Bucky’s Kinktober Honeymoon Taglist: @tilltheendofthelinepal13 @kandis-mom @buggy14 @opheliastark @auntiegigi @alovecraft @cinnxbunny @zincxxx @cultofcarter @rose-alyssa @kaitlin013106 @wandas-gurlfri3nd @beautifulrare4leafclover @queenyamimarrero @littlerya @noobzandboobzandhooz @wanda2themax @lonelywolfheart @Kbananaclip14 @depressed-gays-of-marvel @ur--mommy @jollyfirebattrash @lauratang @casa-boiardi @raging-panda @nicoline1998enilocin @melsunshine @stinkerbelle007 @mememe7147 @happycat547 @matchat3a @Sirmeowertheruthless7 @inlovewithficnalmen @katiemarsblog @irienanicole @buckyisveryhot @littleravengirl @whyamireadingthis @vase-of-lilies @Mrsrogers77 @saltyshluts @Wwhitewolff @buckysdogtagss @mylastnamesyuh @alexandria-fandom @andth3ywereroommates @avalongreene-09 @sargentbarnxes @keira324 @cherryschaos @missusbarnes-rogers @cherriesnwinee @Ellieangelbee @Shirayukiuzukaze @goldylions @elacinnamoon @buckysdollx @mrsmischief209 @capsbestgirl77 @its-just-smut-haha @ironmansson29 @Slutforderekhale @otome-loves-what @jacesswifey @winterslove1917 @black-mistress-of-evil @buckyscumwhore @purple-vegan @snapcapquartet @jacesswifey @nefelibatansoul @divinemoonlight31

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky #Kinktober #Kinktober 2023 #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes kinktober #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes smut #marvel smut #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #mob bucky barnes #mafia bucky barnes #mob bucky x reader #mafia Bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel kinktober #em writes

[nanivinsmoke]

Spring break

Geto x Gojo x F!Reader

oh yall already know this gone be some freak nasty shit! these two fuckers in one fic with each other? oh yeah, you might as well submit. enjoy~!

summary ~ it’s spring break, time to have fun and unwind, and to get stuffed….

warnings and tags ~ fingering, overstimulation, car sex (fingering only), squirting, multiple orgasms, public sex, blow job (rough), creampie (mouth) jealousy, friends with benefits, part two will have so much more~.

words ~ 2.6k

twelve days. twelve whole days you’ll be with the two of them.

originally there were going to be six of you, but everybody bailed last minute; except those two. you were upset that not everyone was coming, but you were glad you were at least going to be with your two best friends. you needed this vacation, you needed to destress and keep your mind off work. you were here to have fun, and nothing was going to ruin it.

the three of you were packed into the black comfortable suv that geto rented, with you in the passenger seat, gojo in the back sleeping and geto driving. the drive to your vacation spot was long and every three hours you guys would rotate, so the each of you would have driven and the other two could rest.

but, you couldn’t sleep and it was all thanks to him. his thick finger pumped in and out of your sopping wet pussy, while keeping his eyes on the road. your shorts, along with your panties, were slightly pulled down to give him better access to your warm cunt, your slick dripping onto the car’s crème brule colored seat. soft moans escaping your plump lips as he curled his fingers, rubbing against your spot.

“shhh, we don’t want you waking him up in the back. wouldn’t want him to catch me playing with this sweet pussy, now would we?~” his voice low and deep, pinching your swollen clit, glancing at you from his peripheral. you shook your head and placed your hand over your mouth to muffle your moans.

“good girl. now, cum for daddy~” he pushed his fingers back inside of you, pumping hard and fast; guiding you to your orgasm. and you came hard too, biting your hand to stop the loud moan that escaped your throat. he slowly continued to finger your cunt, before pulling out—leaving you breathless and drained while he licked your sweet cum from his fingers.

you sat in your seat, in a orgasmic daze—trying to catch your breath, while gojo began to stir in his sleep. his crystal blue eyes opened and he sat up with a yawn, making geto look in the rear view mirror. “gps says we should be there in ten minutes,” he spoke like read his mind, glancing at you with a smirk etched on his face.

you knew that in those ten minutes that you were fucked.

———

the house the three of you rented was huge, it had three big bedrooms with adjoining bathrooms, a huge infinity pool, a jacuzzi on the deck, a movie room and a bar in the basement. these twelve days were going to be memorable.

dropping your suitcase and luggage down into the bedroom you picked out, you plopped on the soft king sized bed—face deep into the pillows, mind still clouded with thoughts of geto and you in the car. just the thought of gojo catching the both of you, had you pressing your legs together as that familiar throbbing sensation reappeared.

what would gojo do? what would he say if he saw his best friend getting finger fucked by his other best friend? would he join in? make geto pull the car over so they could stuff you with their cocks?

before you know it, your hands have found their way into your shorts; rubbing your sensitive clit and dipping into your wet hole. with your eyes being closed, you didn’t see the spiky haired white male appear in your room; amused to see you playing with yourself, but shocked to hear you moan his and geto’s name. he softly closes the door behind him, startling you.

“so what I saw in the car, wasn’t my imagination? im a little jealous you let geto of all people play with that pretty pussy.” so he did see everything. you said nothing and only kept your eyes on him, a little shy that you were caught playing with yourself. a smirked eased onto his face as he sat on the bed in front of your spread legs, eyes dropping to your clothed cunt, then back up to your eyes.

“idiot only let you cum once too. no wonder you want more.” his eyes low and lidded, his hands softly tracing your bare thigh, sending flutters to your pussy. his hands slowly make its way to the middle of your shorts, rubbing the area where your clit hid underneath. you let out a breath of air, amazed at how easily he found your clit, pressing on it hard enough where it sent shivers up your spine.

“let me teach you how many times a woman should cum,” he unbuttoned your shorts, pulling them down with your help and tossed them to the other side of the room.

a whistle left his mouth and he smirked, “whew, you’ve been waiting for this? so wet for me already~” his hands rubbed on the outline of your puffy lips, the deep stain of your slick that soiled your panties—stuck against the tips of his fingers. “gojo~” you whined, wanting him to stop teasing and push his fingers inside—or to put something else in.

a chuckle escaped his lips, “so needy for me~.” he pulled the soaked fabric aside, your puffy lips glistening from your slick. he took a second to admire how pretty your cunt looked, before his lips attached to your clit—sucking and swirling his tongue on it. your hands immediately latched onto his winter white locks, pushing him deeper into your cunt.

he mumbled against your wetness, the vibrations made your clit throb while moans spilled from your plump lips. he pushed two of his long fingers into your aching hole, causing you to gasp. “oh fuck gojo!” you moaned loudly, making him detach from your clit— slick all over his lips. “want geto to hear your slut noises? want him to come in here and catch me two—three fingers deep inside of you?” he pushed another finger inside of you, stretching your hole.

you wanted to scream from the sensation, his long digits rubbing against your spot with each pump—your cunt clenching around him crazily. “did you just get wetter from that? so fucking nasty” he reattached his lips to your clit, pumping inside of you faster. that ball in your stomach was getting bigger by the second and you so desperately wanted to cum—no needed to cum for him.

“so close, g’na cum for you” you breathe out, rotating your hips against his lips. he began to swirl his tongue in a different manner—shivers and jolts of excitement being sent up your spine. and by the time you realized he was spelling his name on your clit, that ball exploded inside of you—with you coming undone underneath him.

he slurped and sucked, fingers still pumping inside of you, making sure that he didn’t waste not one drop of your sweet cum—pulling away with a trail of slick following him. “mhm, only got to the letter ‘u’. don’t get too comfortable now, sweetheart” gojo didn’t even let you recuperate before he slid you between his legs, his boner pressing into the top of your ass.

you tried to reach around to palm him through his pants, but he stopped you—looking down at you with a smirk. “not yet, princess. not until i get you to cum until you can’t anymore.” his words caused you to gulp and you looked away from his hypnotizing eyes, looking at his big hands that hovered over your mound.

“which feels better. one—“ he circles your clit with two fingers and pinches your nipple with the other hand, a mewl leaving your lips, before continuing. “—or two” he moves his hands from your clit and pushes them back into your cunt, arousal immediately coating his fingers. you rock your hips into his hand, wanting—no needing more. and when he didn’t hear your answer, he removed his fingers, making you whine in response.

“let daddy know which one feels better, princess. now one or two” he repeated himself, this time he curled his fingers on the second one, while his palm sat on your clit; adding pressure to it. “two! oh my god, two~.” he chuckled and began pumping his thick fingers in and out of your sloppy, wet cunt—his palm rubbing on your clit adding double pleasure for you.

the sounds of your moans and your sex squelching, echoed throughout the room. he was pumping in and out of you like a madman, hitting your spot each time. and you were getting close, so so close. “cum all over daddy’s fingers. let daddy feel how that pretty pussy cum’s for him, kay’?” you nodded your head, pussy clenching around his fingers rapidly before you let go once again.

his fingers didn’t move from your cunt, no matter how much you squeezed your legs together. “can’t. too much—please, satoru~” you whimpered, looking at the sloppy mess you were making—slick mixed with your cream staining the sheets underneath you. “one more baby, cum for me just one more time. daddy wants to see you cum for him, one more time~”

fuck, it was so easy to listen to every word he said. you wanted to obey him. to cum for him on his command. to let him see how messy you were. to see how much you wanted him to fuck you senseless in the mattress. he pumped inside you faster, rotating his fingers around—stretching you more and more. his palm, now covered in your slick, continued to rub on your clit.

your walls squeezed around his fingers, with you cumming harder than the last. this time it was more intense—a clear stream of your fluid flowing out, dampening the bed even more. “yes, that’s it baby. that’s what daddy wanted, good girl” his pace quickened and you could feel yourself going insane as he drained you.

your body jolted and convulsed as you released, even when nothing came out. eyes rolled back and hands gripping onto the bed. you didn’t even notice that satoru left your room, leaving you to sit in the puddle of your cum.

———

day two.

you were trying so hard to be quiet, so the two of you wouldn’t get caught by the store’s workers. but, how could you when his tongue was so deep in your pussy, licking every crevice and teasing your gummy walls. you grinded again his chisled face, hands getting tangled in his sleek raven hair, tugging it as his lips sucked on your swollen clit.

the two of you decided to explore the town’s shopping district, stopping in a cute clothing store when you were ogling at this cute dress in the window. and when geto snuck into your dressing room, he couldn’t keep his hands off of you.

“cumming for you—suguru!” you whined when he pulled you off of his mouth, cutting your orgasm short. he smirked and got up from the dressing room’s soft bench, licking up your slick that covered his mouth. “this was your punishment, baby. I knew what you and gojo were doing yesterday.” you bit your lip, avoiding his intimidating gaze.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you immediately regretted the lie that flew out of your mouth, knowing that there was consequences to follow. he reached around and made you face him, brown eyes dark and lidded as he stared at you. “not only did you let him touch what’s mine, but you lied about it too? tch, g’na have to—punish—you!”

he pushed you down onto his lap, hand colliding with your ass causing you to yelp out. he sent another smack to your ass, in the same spot, this time a moan came out instead. “suguru, please~” you begged, earning another smack to your fat ass—another yelp followed after—making him hit your ass harder than before. you had to bite your lip hard to stop the scream that desperately wanted to be let out.

“see you have a problem with shutting up. gonna have to shut you the fuck up,” he pulled you back by your hair, unzipping his pants with one hand, making his cock springing to life. it was so fat and pretty. tip a nice shade of red, leaking with his precum. mouth drooling at the sight, your plump lips immediately latched onto it—welcoming him right into your warm mouth. he sucked in some air, loving the tightness of your mouth—almost forgetting this was a punishment.

he pushed your head down, bucking his hips upwards, his cock now deep into your mouth—touching the beginning of your throat. your eyes widened at the sudden force, tears brimming your eyes as he begun to fuck your mouth. so much spit coated his dick, dribbling out the corners of your mouth and onto his pants. it was so, so, so messy, yet you couldn’t help but want more.

the more he pounded your sweet little mouth, stretching it with each thrust, you got used to him—taking more of him each time. you were getting more aroused by the second, slick dripping from your lonely cunt—down your thick thighs. his cock was so addicting, you couldn’t get enough of the taste nor the smell of his balls, getting a whiff each time his cum filled balls met your nose.

geto’s eyes rolled back and his mouth was gaped open, low grunts leaving his mouth as his cock explored your mouth, the softness of it made him want to fuck you harder—deeper— he wanted to break your mouth and stuff it full of his hot load. his hand landed on your ass again, the fat rippling from the impact, making you moan against his cock— vibrating against his shaft.

he was so lost in the essence of your mouth, that he completely forgot where he was at until a knock was heard, causing his coffee colored eyes to pop open.

“uh, we’re about close soon. could you please hurry up?” a man spoke on the other side of the door. you had

“give me—shit—a second~” he grunted, looking down at you with pure arousal as you fondled his balls that was coated in your saliva.

“sir! I need you to hur—“

“i said give me a fucking second— shit, g’na cum, drink my fucking cum, slut~” geto yelled at the man, cutting him off mid sentence and making the male leave, while he thrusted in your mouth faster. his hot—thick load pooled into your mouth, coating the inside of your cheeks white. you gave his balls a squeeze, hoping to empty them out as you swallowed his cum. the warmness from it spilling down your throat, making you squirt—splashing onto the mirror behind you and the dress you were looking at before, staining it.

he pulled out of you with a pop sound following, spit and his left over cum trailing from your mouth which you happily slurped back up with a smile on your face. he reached over and grabbed you by the jaw, cheeks puffing up as he stared at you before he pressed his lips into yours, tasting himself when his tongue entered yours.

“fuck. i need to get you back to the house, i want to fuck that little throat some more~”

the two of you quickly got dressed and left the dressing room, bumping into the male worker on the way out and throwing a wad of money at him.

“i don’t get paid enough for this shit”

#jujutsu kaisen geto #geto x y/n #geto x you #jujutsu geto #geto smut #geto x you x gojo #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #jjk geto #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk smut #jjk suguru #jujutsu kaisen suguru #jujutsu suguru #suguru geto smut #jjk satoru

[sailoryooons]

BOONGI REQUEST THE SEQUEL !!! honeymooning with yoongi and your trip is a little too richly scheduled considering how horny you both are.... leads to fucking in some interesting places 🙈

❀ Pairing: Yoongi x f. reader

❀ Summary: Your tropical honeymoon is planned down to the very minute to get the most out of your trip but it seems that Yoongi has plans of throwing off your itinerary every time his hands touch you. 

❀ Word Count: 4,355

❀ Genre: Established relationship, pwp

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Absolutely self-indulgent and gratuitous smut, literally this is the most porn without plot I have ever done, explicit language, explicit sexual content including unprotected vaginal sex, fucking from behind, semi-public fucking, light degredation, oral (m. and f. receiving), riding Yoongi, fucking from behind, face sitting, throat fucking, a lot of cum and spit and holes, Yoongi and reader fuck in public spaces where they cannot be seen a lot, temperature place, use of ice (please do not ever take ice from a random ice bucket and put it in your partners vagina, this is fiction and it was handy but do not do that lmao), cum swallowing and cum eating when you squint. 

❀ Published: August 9, 2023

❀ A/N: This is sort of a part two? You do not have to read the first request to read this one, they are easily read separately. Thanks for giving me an excuse to just write porn. There literally is nothing here but porn, I don’t even know if they have chemistry, but they fucking. Honestly I had to cut scenes out of this because I also imagined the infinity pool moment and so many other moments because M and I are fucking insane and ruminate on this shit, but at one point it was just… getting longer and I was RUNNING OUT OF WORDS FOR DICK AND COCK AND I HATE THE WORD DICK IN SMUT IF FEELS NOT VERY SEXY. Okay. Here is my ode to the love of my life, M. This somehow made me more insane.

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Part One | Masterlist | Ask | Hali’s Happy Agust | Listen Along |

“Come on,” You murmur, lips pressed against Yoongi’s warm forehead. “We have a breakfast reservation at that place we talked about.” 

A deep groan rumbles through Yoongi’s chest. It’s dark in the bedroom of your resort, the lights still off and the sliding glass door window still shuttered. Your newly wed is tangled in white sheets, face pressed against the pillow and swollen with sleep. You bite your bottom lip to hide your smile as he buries his face deeper into the pillow.

It’s tropical warm in the room, your skin still heated from the sun the day before. Yoongi’s cheeks are sun-kissed blossom, bottom lip jutted out as he pouts. You think about the night before, biting that bottom lip hard as you came around him in the shower, cold water pebbling on hot skin. 

Sighing, you climb onto him, knees on either side of his waist as you sit. His chest is flushed and warm as you lean down, dress riding up your thighs as you press your forehead to the side of his head. His hair is messy, an inky halo around him as he lets out a sound again, very close to whining. 

Yoongi smells like coconut shampoo and palm breeze. It makes your stomach flip having him this close to you, flashes of the night before making your already sore thighs twitch. Ignoring your more carnal urges, you nudge him with your nose, huffing. Sliding your hands around to the back of his neck, you thread your fingers through his silky hair, holding him there. 

“Don’t you want breakfast?” you ask, hoping the promise of food will lure him from bed.

Yoongi is fully awake now. “Mhmm.” 

Yoongi frees his hands from the sheets and places them on your thighs, squeezing. His hands are warm and callused, sparking a curl of pleasure in you as he rubs them up and down your legs. It’s an innocent touch, but your thoughts turn devious. 

When Yoongi’s hands trace to the round curve of your ass to grab a handful of flesh, you let out a breathy sound and tighten your grip on his hair. He hisses in appreciation, hips twitching off the bed as you growl, “What are you doing?”

Yoongi turns his head to face you, your foreheads pressed together as he bumps your nose with his. “I don’t need to leave for breakfast,” he murmurs, breath hot against your lips as he talks. His right hand gives you a playful crack on the ass, making you squeak as the sweet sting riles you up, your knees squeezing his waist. “I can eat right here.”

His hands are firm, fingers dimpling your rear end as he pulls you against his stomach and rolls your hips. Your eyes flutter shut at the barely-there friction, Yoongi lifting himself up a little to help you grind against him. 

“Yoongi.” 

The chastisement is nothing more than half of a breath, already feeling arousal curl in your stomach. Your thighs stretch painfully from the night before, a feel-good burn that makes you spread your legs a little wider to feel the pleasurable strain. 

“Come on,” Yoongi grunts. “Girl breakfast.”

“That’s not what that meme means.”

“Who gives a fuck. Sit on my face.”

Ignoring him is impossible. Yoongi’s hands palm your ass, pulling you forward. On unsteady knees, you shuffle up from his waist to his face, lifting the hem of your dress as you go. Yoongi hums appreciatively, slipping a hand between your legs to press his fingers against your clothed pussy. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, the stimulation jolting. “We have an itinerary.”

“Fuck the itinerary. You were going to go to breakfast like this?” he asks, slipping a finger under your underwear, swiping through your dripping folds. “All wet and sticky?” 

You whine, fists tightening in the fabric of your dress. He drags a curled knuckle up and down your pussy, pressing into your clit purposefully as he does, making your hips swivel a little. Yoongi laughs underneath you, mouth hot on your thighs as he leaves sloppy kisses, air cooling his spit on your skin as he goes.

There’s no escaping this. Any desire you had to go to breakfast with a view of the beach is gone as Yoongi nips at the tender flesh of your inner thighs, your legs trembling in anticipation. Yoongi is so good at this, making you bend to his will with just a few words and guiding hands. 

Yoongi’s breath is hot on your center as he peels your underwear to the side. You look down at him, pressing your dress flat to give you the perfect view. His dark eyes are focused on your cunt, his lips bubble gum pink, tongue darting out to wet them. His hair is fanned out around him, some pressed to his forehead. 

Smirking, Yoongi uses one hand to pull you forward, lowering you to his mouth. You hold your breath as he drags his tongue slowly from your leaking entrance to just below your clit before rolling licking back down, ignoring your bundle of nerves entirely. Your toes curl, immediately going white hot at the slow feeling of his tongue dragging through your folds. 

“Oh,” you sigh, eyes shutting as Yoongi hums and repeats the motion, determined to take his time. 

With one hand wrapped in your dress, you lean forward, pressing the other hand against the wall to keep you upright. You hang your head down, heady-heavy, eyes falling shut as you heave shuddering breaths.

Yoongi’s tongue is wicked, laving up and down experimentally as you shake on top of him. He hums appreciatively, pulling you down to his mouth further by your ass. A sharp moan escapes you when he fastens his mouth to you, sucking your clit gently. The suction makes your head spin, your skin over warm and tingling, feeling faint in the dark room.

“Shit,” you pant, listening to him make a mess of you, all wet smacks and happy hums. “Fuck, Yoongi.”

“Mhmm,” he agrees. “Girl breakfast. Or is it wife breakfast?”

You’re too busy rolling your hips gently against Yoongi’s face to shoot something smart back, lost in the rough drag of his tongue against your cunt, the buzz of his mouth when he hums. You feel the way your stomach tightens, the way that pressure in your core builds, the tensing thighs. 

The sweet, saturated sound of Yoongi’s mouth backtracks your whines, your fist pressed against the wall, knuckles popping with the force. Sweat slicks down the back of your neck and your thighs tremble as you fuck his mouth in earnest, hips flexing.

It feels hot in the room, your dress sticking to your skin, panties stretched to the side as Yoongi has his way with you. The strap of your dress falls down, abandoned as you quiver, your shoes and purse long forgotten by the door as you start to come undone.

“Come on,” Yoongi pants against your pussy, tongue prodding your throbbing hole. You squirm at the feeling, wanting more. “Breakfast is supposed to have juice too.”

Your laugh sounds hysteric, closer to a high-pitched cry than anything. Yoongi is vicious, pressing his nose to your clit as his tongue fucks your entrance, drinking you in. You’re dizzy, ears ringing as your orgasm mounts. You start to tense up, teeth clenched, fingers pressed numb against the wall.

Eyes shut, head back, balmy skin, you come hard in his mouth, Yoongi’s tongue pressed against you, not missing a drop. You feel fuzzy drunk, letting Yoongi control your hips. He moves you against his mouth, bobbing his lead as he slurps, dropping staccato mhmms as he goes. 

When you’re falling into his lap, skin sweaty and panting, Yoongi sits up, the lower half of his face shining with your slick. He licks his lips, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. “Thanks for the meal,” he teases. “I want more.”

-

A high-pitched zing whines through the air, drawing your attention to look at the fishing rod on the back of the boat. The reel spins out of control as the line runs wild, handle circling as the fish on the hooked fish runs wild with the line. 

“Yoongi,” you gasp, turning back to him. 

“Fuck the reel,” he growls, fingertips pressing into your hips hard enough throb.

The vinyl cover of the boat seat is slippery with sunscreen, sweat and a little cum. Sun heats your bare back. The burn on your shoulders is nothing to the fiery arousal spooling in your stomach as Yoongi pulls you up by the hips, dragging you along his slick cock.

It’s a calm day on the water, the only motion coming from the way you roll your hips, fucking Yoongi in earnest on the bow of the boat. Blue water glitters around you, reflecting the sun back up toward a cloudless, azure sky.

Salty wind cools the back of your neck as you throw your head back, gasping when Yoongi presses a thumb to your clit, circling slowly. The gentle lapping of the water against the hull is drowned out by the wet slap of your ass on Yoongi’s pelvis, already soaked from your first orgasm.

Your second high blazes through you hotter than the beaming sun. Yoongi growls between gritted teeth, his grip savage as he helps you fuck him. Up down, up down, up down. His chest is flushed and raked with angry red nail marks.

Fishing plans long forgotten, you continue to ride him, the feel of Yoongi’s cock stomach-deep, your walls gripping him tight as you race toward another orgasm. It feels so good, your knees slipping as the boat bobs under you, the up and down motion aiding the way you glide on his dick. 

“Just like that,” Yoongi moans, head tossed back, hair damp and sweaty. He’s worked up, a beat of sweat dripping down his tan neck, jaw flexing as he tries to stop himself from coming. “Use me just like that, baby.” 

And you do, the tip of his dick brushing your g-spot every time you slide down, working your closer and closer until you’re seated in his lap, cock pushed to the deepest parts of you while you come hard around him.

Yoongi waits for you to come down for your high, post-orgasm twitching and panting before he pins you to his chest and holds you while fucking up into you a few more times before he clenches his teeth and comes.

Hot and spent, you both melt into one another, skin sliding against skin as you lay on his chest. He softens inside of you and you become hyper aware of the slide of your mixed juices dripping from your folds and running down your leg. You don’t care, closing your eyes as you inhale deeply.

Eventually, Yoongi lifts his head to peer over your shoulder. You turn around to see that the line has broken on the road and Yoongi laughs, sounding exhausted.

“Fuck it,” he sighs, laying his head back down and tightening his hold on you. “I don’t care.”

-

“My wife is such a little slut,” Yoongi grins, leaning against the sink as you take him further into your mouth. “You love having a mouthful of cock, don’t you?”

Looking up at Yoongi with wide, teary eyes, you hum the affirmative. Dark blush creeps up his neck, his skin visible where the top button of his white shirt is undone. He looks to die for tonight, with his long, dark hair slicked back and just touching his shoulders, a white short-sleeved button up, and dark pants. 

And you? You looked nice earlier, but now your dress is messy with sand from the bathroom floor, mascara running down you face as you swallow around your husbands cock, feeling your throat tighten as you force yourself to the limits. 

You’d at least manage to pay the bill before dragging him into the palm-textured bathroom and dropping to your knees, ignoring the way stray grains of sand from the beachside restaurant burn your knees in favor of taking him into your mouth.

Yoongi slouches against the sink, his shoulders pressed into the mirror as he closes his eyes and angles his head back. You take him further into your mouth, letting spit escape the sides and run down your chin, working what you can’t fit with your hand. Your wedding ring flashes in the low light and drives you mad, loving the way the diamond looks on your hand while it’s wrapped around him. 

You’re ravenous tonight, staring up at him with clenching thighs, watching the way Yoongi unravels. Pulling back, you pop off of him, strings of spit and precum connecting the brown tip of his cock to your lips. You break it, leaning forward to run your tongue along the frenulum of his cock, earning a whine from him.

Grinning, you continue your assault, dragging your tongue down the thick vein on the underside of his cock until you reach his balls, giving a teasing lick that makes his hips cant off the sink.

“Don’t fucking tease me,” he warns. “I fucked you the way you asked for three times today, baby. Don’t I deserve to cum in that pretty little mouth?”

“Yeah?” you ask, pumping him with your hand as you come back up. “Want to come in my mouth?”

Yoongi’s hand shoots to the back of your head, fingers squeezing your skull. It’s not painful, but it’s firm, making you grin up at him, delighted. “Okay then,” you agree, tightening your fist on him a little more, pumping him a little fast. “Fuck my throat.”

You don’t have to tell him twice. Yoongi’s grip on the back of your head stays solid, a comforting feeling as you get a little dizzy from the way he looks down at you, eyes fathomless. Starving. He uses his other hand to prop himself against the sink before he drives his cock into your mouth.

The slide is rough and messy. You flatten your tongue and open up the back of your throat, the sound of you choking wetly around him drowning out the hiss of air between his teeth. You breathe through your nose, your hands gripping his thighs and digging your nails in hard into his flexing thighs.

Absently, you wonder if anyone walking by can hear the gurgle of your mouth, the stilted grunts as he flexes his hips.

Throat burning, eyes stinging and dripping tears, you let Yoongi go wild until he’s coming deep down your throat, a hot and thick mess. He pulls out gently, letting you gasp for air, mouth swollen and sticky as you pant.

Yoongi pulls you up from your knees, holding you tight as you lose your balance. His grip is crushing and he smashes his lips to yours, licking into your mouth to taste the mix of cum and spit, hungry for it.

When he pulls away, his lips are pink and slick and his chest is heaving.

“We’re going to miss that concert I bought tickets for,” you complain, giving him a pout.

“Fuck that concert, we’re going back to the hotel room and I’m going to fuck you for the next three hours, baby.”

-

Admittedly, hiking wasn’t the best event on your itinerary. When you’d planned the adventure originally, you hadn’t accounted for the fact that your legs would be near unusable from days of Yoongi folding you in half to drill into you, or the fact that the jungle is, in fact, hot and humid.

Yoongi walks next to you, his thumbs tucked into the straps of his backpack as he goes. His hair is pulled up into a bun, a few loose strands sticking to his sweaty forehead. He hasn’t complained once since starting the uphill trek through the trees and sifting sand, though you can tell he’s also spent from his inability to stop touching you this entire trip.

But you really want to attempt to get to a single thing on your itinerary for this trip, and the ruins will be out of the question tomorrow when it rains. So, you persist, legs wobbling as you high up the path, shirt sticking to you and scent of sunscreen following you like a coconut cloud.

“You’re sure we’re going the right way?” Yoongi askes, looking up at the gleaming sun filtering between branches. “We haven’t seen a single person.”

“There’s steps, aren’t there?” you ask, gesturing to the path. “There’s ruins that aren’t as much of a climb that everyone prefers. Plus, it’s hot as shit. I wanted to see the good ones though.”

“Anything for you.” 

A few more minutes pass before Yoongi sees you lagging a little. The burn in your thighs is real, remembering acutely the way Yoongi had pressed them to your chest last night as he fucked you slow and deep. The memory makes you shiver, a post-orgasm twitch still haunting you an entire day later.

“Come on,” Yoongi urges. “It’s flat up here, we can step off the path and take a break.”

Yoongi finds some broken trees that have fallen sideways to sit on. You’re grateful, taking deep gulps of water. It immediately cools you down and you close your eyes, rolling your shoulders. Yoongi guzzles down water next to you, his arm pressed up against your.

After a few minutes sitting, you get up and turn to face the fallen tree, bending over at the waist to lean against it in a deep lunge, stretching your hamstrings. It’s a soothing sort of pain, the extension of muscle a relief. 

Yoongi looks at maps on his phone behind you, waiting as you you switch legs and arch your spine, feeling a few joints pop in release. It feels good and you sigh, letting the tension bleed out of you.

Hands find your ass, gentle and curious. You look over your shoulder to find Yoongi looking at you with his brows raised and head tilted. A question. You know he’ll back off immediately if you shoo him away. Instead, You burst into laughter and shake your head, “Seriously?”

“What?” 

You stare at him. He looks delicious, sweat dripping down his Adam’s apple, hair pulled back. He’s dressed simply and yet, looking at him looking at you, wanting you the way that he does makes you vibrate. It doesn’t matter how many times you have him, you always want him more. And again.

You married Yoongi for a myriad of reasons. Because he is gentle and kind, because you like the way he takes his coffee and reads the paper in the morning, because you like that he uses mint shampoo, because you like that he has to line his shoes up perfectly next to the door. 

Everything about him enchants you, and you’re over the moon to have someone who doesn’t shame you for your carnal desires, that you have someone who matches the energy, who can take it and give it to you anywhere you want. 

Yoongi is the perfect balance, always knowing when to initiate, always knowing when it's a good time.

“I know that look,” he smiles. “Now you’re thinking about it.”

“Can you be quick? I don’t want someone to stumble on us.”

“Fuck yeah I can,” he promises, dropping his backpack and popping the zipper on his pants. You let out a pathetic sound at the sight, earning a smug look from Yoongi. 

Yoongi peels your legs and underwear down to your knees, just enough to get access to you but also safe enough to pull them up quickly if you need. His clothed chest presses against your back as he leans forward, wrapping his arms around your middle in what seems like an innocent hug.

You gasp as the tip of his cock breaches your entrance, the stretch a little painful with no prep. It doesn’t matter, though. He pushes in slowly, letting you get used to it until he’s pressed in to the hilt, your pussy fluttering around him. 

“I love you,” Yoongi whispers, pressing butterfly soft kisses to your cheek and temple. He starts thrusting shallowly, stealing your breath away. “You are my perfect, beautiful, wonderful wife.”

“Fuuuck,” you whisper. Yoongi isn’t fucking around, making his thrust precision perfect, pressing that soft spot inside of you. Your thighs are pressed together, making the fit even tighter, feeling him even more. “You’re just saying that cause I’m letting you fuck me against a tree.”

“Untrue, I say this all the time.”

That’s fair. Yoongi does tell you that he loves you. More often now than he used to, more verbal than his little utterances of love by readying your coffee long before you were awake in the morning or picking up the things you were missing from your pantry on the way home. 

“You’re right,” you pant, head lolling to the side as his mouth seeks the heat of your throat. “I love you too”

The tree bark bites into your hand as you take him fully. With the way your legs are pressed together and the angle that you’re standing, it feels like Yoongi is punching to the very core of you, making the world spin. You think you might collapse over the tree if he weren’t holding you up. 

“You’re just saying that cause I’m fucking you against a tree.”

You can’t help but laugh, despite the fact that Yoongi picks up the pace, fucking you hard and with purpose. His hand slips between your legs, finding your clit and pinching it lightly, making you squeal and twitch. He laughs, choosing to circle it instead, working you faster toward an orgasm as he pounds into you, punching the breath from your lungs. 

Sex with him is different every time. You don’t know how you manage to never get tired of it, but it never feels the same. Not with him. Every time feels like you’re discovering something new, 

When you do come, you suddenly feel like you can run the rest of the way up to the ruins, energized on the endorphins alone. 

“I’ve heard of post nut clarity,” Yoongi jokes, tucking his cock back into his pants. “But never post nut energy.”

“It’s like a second wind.”

“Dickened wind.” 

You glare at him, tossing his backpack to him. “Stick to writing songs, not jokes.”

-

“You’re so fucking swollen,” Yoongi groans, thumbs peeling apart your folds. “Cute.”

You let out a shaky laugh, your face pressed down into the pillows of the daybed, ass up in the air with Yoongi behind you. The sound of the pool and anyone beyond the closed curtains of the banana are muted by the tropical music of the DJ. All the better to drown out the sound of your husband spitting onto your exposed heat. 

“Cause you’ve been fucking me insane all week,” you protest, body vibrating. Yoongi hums thoughtfully but doesn’t say anything, letting his spin trail slowly down your slit. You’re already wet from the way his greedy mouth sucked at your chest. “Baby, please. I want your mouth.”

“Yeah? You all hot and bothered?”

“Yes.”

“Let me cool you off.” 

Yoongi’s hands leave your ass for a moment. You’re too overheated from days in the sun and the rising tropical temperature to look at what he’s doing. You’re in a slow daze, a little buzzed from sweet drinks and Yoongi’s mouth, from sloppy kisses that taste like strawberry and Yoongi’s cute little sunburn on his ass from falling asleep after letting you drive him insane with your mouth on the private balcony the day before. 

Now, you hear the clicking of something moving around the ice bucket. Your brows furrow and you’re about to turn your head to look at what Yoongi is doing when you feel ice cold water slow drip onto your ass. 

“Shit,” you hiss, grabbing the edge of the daybed and arching your spin. The water is a cool burn, a relief that drives you mad as he makes a pleased sound. “Ohhh fuck, again.”

“More?”

“Fuck yeah.”

There’s the sound of more ice and Yoongi is dripping the cold water on your ass again, making your lower spine tingle and toes curl. The cold drips move closer to your cunt until he’s directly over your clenching hole. The shock of cold against hot sends you into a frenzy. You wiggle your ass back and forth, asking for more, eager for it. 

Yoongi has never been one to deny you. This time, you feel his lips around an ice cube, dragging his cold kiss over the swells of your ass, letting the ice melt on his tongue before lapping at your pussy, tongue cold against your dripping heat. 

It drives you mad. Your fingers ache with the way you clutch the pillows, pressing your face hard into the daybed as Yoongi does this a few times, bringing his cold lips to mouth hungrily at you until it’s all he’s focused on, forgetting the ice in favor of sucking greedily at your clit. 

Your spine feels like it might crack, bowed dangerously as you press back into his face. He moans at your eagerness, tongue twisting between your folds as eats you out in earnest. If it weren’t for the privacy curtains and the DJ booth, you’d never get away with this. Yoongi is not quiet, smacking his lips like a glutton. 

Air escapes you. You squeeze your eyes shut as an orgasm bears down on you. Your face is pressed so far in the cushions that you don’t think you can breathe, your lungs contracting and your chest squeezing as you come on his tongue without warning, a silent scream raging through you.

Stars burst behind your eyes. Yoongi takes it in stride, licking you long and slow as you remain rigid for the duration of your high. When it finally begins to subside, you fall to the side, sprawling boneless and feeling drunk.

“Holy shit,” you croak, voice gone. “You were right. Fuck the itinerary. This is so much better.”

#yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #suga smut #bts smut #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #halis happy agust #minors dni #minors do not interact

[ponderingmoonlight]

JJK men after hurting (y/n)

Pairing: Choso x reader; Gojo x reader

Word Count: 4,7k (Gojo's part is huge)

Warnings: this is drama over drama so be prepared, injury in Choso's part, mentioned pregnancy and breakup in Gojo's part, also Geto is an a-hole in here and it isn't 100% accurate to the original story-timeline, it's getting veeeery heated my lovelys, but also comfort but mostly hurt

As usual, I am very thankful for every little like, comment or reblog (thank you anon hehe). Let me know what you think of this, I literally poured my heart and soul into these two parts <3

Tags: @sanicsmut I just know you'll like this girl, @chilichopsticks

Choso Kamo

„(y/n), this is nothing I will discuss with you right now. Just stay here.”

“I can’t let you kill him, this isn’t right. His death won’t bring back your brothers!”, you shout urgently, hands desperately trying to keep him from walking away.

“I always appreciate your opinion and support. But this is something I have to do for myself. Don’t get in the way.”

With one last glance back he’s gone, lost in the neon signs around you, shadow immerged into darkness.

Your brain goes into panic mode immediately, palms sweaty just by the thought of him haunting that boy down. How strange it is that you are able to call Choso your boyfriend. Choso Kamo, a reincarnated curse that is over 150 years old. Choso Kamo, who seems cold-hearted to people when he first meets them. Choso Kamo, who loves his family more than anything else.

You know this isn’t him, that killing Yuji Itadori is nothing but an act of revenge for him that he hopes will make him feel better.

“But how does killing someone else solve your problems?”

He never answered this question. He didn’t have to, given the fact that he just stared at you with furious eyes. You know all too well how it broke him to lose his brothers through the hands of some random jujutsu sorcerers. Fuck, you were just as heartbroken as he was. But if revenge is the only solution, wouldn’t this little game go on to infinity?

This isn’t the way, this isn’t the man you love. And you won’t let him go berserk only to regret what he did later on.

There is only one thing you can you now.

Your feet start moving on their own, following his shadow through the dark hallways of Shibuya’s train station. You aren’t a very gifted jujutsu sorcerer, maybe a grade 2 in sorcerer terms. But maybe your presence will be enough to stop him. Maybe his love is greater than the hatred he carries in his heart for that Idadori boy.

After all, it is a miracle in itself that he really loves you, a human being. Instead of killing you right on the spot he decided to safe you and even take care of your multiple wounds back then when you first met. You are not only hopelessly in love with him, but owe him his life. It’s time for you to give something back.

The only thing that echoes through the hallways are your very own rapid steps and sharp breaths. Please let him be okay, please let him still search for that boy. Your forehead glisters in sweat, the area only illuminated by the changing neon signs.

Finally a sound. You stop in your tracks immediately and close your eyes while holding your breath. It’s far away, but those are steps and dampened rumbling. It has to be him. And he’s definitely not alone. 

You can’t waste any time. As fast as your shaky legs carry you, you run down the hallway, eyes roaming around to catch a glimpse of his dark messy hair. Did he found Yuji Itadori? From what you’ve heard, Sukuna’s vessel is a quite skilled jujutsu sorcerer himself. But despite that, you know how much power Choso holds. If they meet, there will definitely be a fierce fight and your boyfriend might get hurt in the process.

But Yuji gets killed.

Suddenly water starts to soak into your shoes, pooling the surrounding area entirely. You furrow your brows. Where the hell is that coming from? Aren’t you underground? And also, it wasn’t raining outside…

Instinctively you follow the stream, noises growing louder and louder. Your heartbeat picks up, eyes wide open in realization. They have to be in there, in that toilet. The only think you are able to do is run. Water splashes around you, completely taking your already dimmed sight under the purple neon lights.

Until you see your boyfriend. Bending over the severely injured body of what looks like Yuji Itadori, fist ready to hit him with his last shot.

You don’t know what has gotten into you. Before you are able to even think about a plan you sprint forward and shield the boy’s body with your own.

Only to get hit in your stomach with full force by your own boyfriend.

For a moment you forget how to breathe, the only sound being the constant ringing in your ears along with a silent cough. Are you dead? You can’t tell with your sight completely turned black and your empty head.

“(y/n)”, is all Choso is able to breathe out.

It happened so fast he couldn’t react anymore. Within the split of a second, he was only able to direct his fist away from your head into your stomach.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

A trail of blood escapes your lips along with a cough, gaze completely empty. Did he kill you? His guts turn, he feels like fainting away. Oh god, what did he do?

“(y/n).”

You shouldn’t even be here in the first place. He told you to stay out of this, to leave this to him. Why on earth did you throw yourself in front of Yuji Itadori? How could you risk your life so reckless?

“(y/n)?”

You don’t react, glossy eyes wide open, directed into darkness. His shaky hands pull up your shirt, revealing a huge bruise. He broke a few of your ribs, that’s for sure.

“(y/n)!”, he begs again, repeating your name over and over like a prayer.

His hands grab your body and pull you away from Itadori while all he can do is kneeling next to you. Are you even breathing? Fuck, you are so cold and completely soaked in water that still pours down without mercy.

“(y/n)…”

His hand caresses your cheek gently. You just have to wake up. This is a bad dream, right? He didn’t just punch you with full force, he isn’t responsible for you laying here with broken bones and bruises. No, he didn’t just hurt the love of his life, his precious girlfriend.

Are those tears running down his cheeks? He can’t tell. The water pouring down on him makes it hard to see.

“Don’t…kill…him…”, you suddenly mumble.

Choso feels like flying and dying at the same time, relieved by hearing your voice while being absolutely crushed be the fact that he is responsible for your poor state.

“Why did you throw yourself in front of him, (y/n)? I never wanted to hurt you. I would have never hurt you…”, he stutters, pressing your upper body against his.

You cough violently, feeling as if your spilling your guts out every second. God, you feel terrible. If you move a single inch you’ll faint away into darkness.

But despite the pain that rolls over you like a tsunami, you force your eyes to look at him? His beautiful screwed up face, his glistening eyes. Is he crying? This might be the first time you’ve ever seen him like this.

“I know you didn’t wanted to hurt me. Did you kill him?”

Your voice isn’t more than a fade away whisper, almost too distant to get under the pouring water. But the second your words reach his ears, Choso can’t hold back any longer.

He’s crumbling in front of you like a piece of paper, hands holding onto you for dear life.

Choso almost killed you. The love of his life, the only thing that’s worth living. And for what? Because he was seeking revenge.

“But how does killing someone else solve your problems?”

Your wise words repeat themselves over and over in his head. Fuck, if he only listened to you. He shouldn’t have agreed to work with Geto in the first place out of sheer rage. No, he could lay in bed with you at the moment, hearing about what is currently happening at Shibuya in the news.

Then this wouldn’t have happened. Then you wouldn’t lay in front of him severely injured.

His whole face is screwed up, trembling fingers clenched to tight that they bleed while a sob escapes his lips.

All of this is his fault.

“I’m so sorry, (y/n). I’m so so sorry”, he cries out, placing his head on your chest.

“Is he dead?”, you croak out, tired eyes wandering to the boy’s unconscious figure leaning against the wall.

“Yes…Yes he does…”

A weak smile forms on your lips. So this wasn’t in vain. After all, you reached your goal.

“Thank god…”, you mutter.

Choso’s guilty conscience eats him up from the inside. Why? Why the hell did he think killing Yuji Itadori is a good idea in the first place? Despite the deaths of his brothers, despite all the pain he’s been through, despite the fact that he isn’t even human.

He loves you with all his heart. Your gentle disposition that is the opposite of his cold-hearted one. Your friendly smile that outshines his emotionless expression every time. The way you love him although he didn’t even know what love is when he first met you.

You showed him so many facets of life and he tramples on all the things you taught him.

“I will get you out of here. And I promise will every fiber of my being that I will change, that something like this will never happen again”, he blurts out.

“You don’t have to change, darling. You just need to decide on your perspective of life.”

Everything hurts, you feel like dying from the inside. Although you don’t seem to bleed externally, the stinging taste of blood in your mouth tells you you are severely injured. A load moan escapes your lips when Choso gently lifts you off the ground, body screaming out in agony.

With a gentle kiss on your forehead and tears still running down his cheeks. Something like this will never happen again. Not through the hands of others and especially not his.

God, never again will he ever hurt you.

Satoru Gojo

Your fingers tremble uncontrollably as you try to figure out what you hold in your hands. Is this…positive?

Are you really pregnant?

Two lines. Two clearly visible lines. You feel like fainting and flying at the same time, your thoughts are racing.

Is this really happening? Are you dreaming?

No, the proof lies visible in your hands. You are pregnant. You are expecting a child with Satoru Gojo.

“Listen (y/n)…I’ve been thinking about this for a while now…Have you ever thought about having a baby? I mean, you’ve been my girlfriend for more than 6 years, my fiancé for half a year. I’ve never seen me as a father and I know this isn’t the best timing considering what’s going on in the word at the moment. But the thought of you with a precious baby belly, a child with your eyes…This thought filled me with so much joy recently that I wanted to talk about this with you.”

You couldn’t find words, his sudden outburst caught you off guard. But oh how much you thought about that too, how it would feel to have a child with the man you love more than anything else on this world, to start a family with Satoru. Tears started to sting your eyes, arms wrapped around him tightly.

“I would absolutely love that!”, you cried out, face buried against his broad chest while he stroked your hair just the way you like it.

“We don’t have to rush anything. Just living like usual without protection”, he mumbled against your head.

“I love you so much, Satoru. Nothing makes me happier than being with you. And maybe next year there will be three of us.”

He smiled down at you the way that always makes you see stars. God, how much you love that man. The thought alone to spend the rest of your life with him and your little family filled your heart with nothing buy warmth and joy.

“I love you too, sweetheart. More than anything else”, he mumbled.

Satoru. What are you supposed to do? Call him, text him, drive to Jujutsu High? You’re on your day off while he told you this morning that he’ll teach the new student, Yuta. As much as you’d love to get in your car immediately and meet him in person, you shouldn’t disturb him right now. No, this is something special. This needs time, a calm evening and privacy.

A little message can’t hurt though.

Hey babe, can’t wait to see you tonight. I’ve got some exciting news. Love you <3

You let out your shaky breath, eyes darting to the test again. Is this really your life? It surely can’t get any better than that.

-Satoru’s POV-

“I hate so say it, but I guess there’s no way out of this”, Shoko comments.

But there has to be. After all, he’s the strongest, he’s the only one who’s able to protect you right. This shouldn’t be the only way to save you, there has to be more.

“I will find a way around this”, Gojo hisses through gritted teeth, hands so tensed up that his veins pop out.

“You can’t. There’s absolutely no way to keep her save. She’ll insist on going with you if you tell her. And if you don’t she’ll find out and come to your place. Or worse, someone else will find her. She is the safest when she’s gone.”

Fuck. Satoru slams his fist against the table, blood squirting. He knows she’s right. Deep down, he is very aware of the fact that no matter how he twists and turns it, you’re in danger. Suguru made that very clear. He has to make a decision now, even if it breaks his own heart.

“So what’s the solution then, huh? Breaking up with her?”, he barks at Shoko.

“If you really want to make sure that she’s safe and gone, yes. Aren’t her parents living far away from here?”

That’s not what he wanted to hear. Thick rage crawls up his spine and takes his sight. He’ll kill all of them. Every single one of these curses and Suguru’s accomplices. This shouldn’t be the only way, he shouldn’t have to break the heart of the women he loves most.

Fuck, how much he hates to see you cry. Just a few days ago, he told you that he wanted to have kids with you, to start a family, he proposed to you. This will not only break your heart, but shatter you into million pieces.

“I get that it’s rough and that you don’t wanna do it. But if you want to make sure that (y/n) is safe, you have to make her believe that it’s over.”

“What if I’m hiding her somewhere at Jujutsu High? What if I’m staying by her side?”

“She’ll never allow that and you know it. (y/n) would rather die herself than letting other people suffer because you aren’t there.”

She’s right. Deep down Satoru knows that every word Shoko says is true.

- Later that evening –

You almost fall off the couch in excitement when you hear keys turning in the lock. He’s finally home! It must have been a pretty rough day if he wasn’t even able to reply to your text. Your fingers hold onto the test in your hands for dear life, heart jumping up and down in joy. How will he react? Will he laugh, will he cry? You don’t know. But he’ll surely be cheerful.

“Hey babe, I need to talk about something with you!”

The sound of your joyful voice alone makes him want to break down. Fuck, you don’t deserve this, none of this is your fault at all. So why does he have to break your heart so violently? He shakes his head, blindfold covering his already glossy eyes. There’s no way out of this. He needs to hurt you in order to save you.

“Oh, there you are”, you breathe out when you catch a glimpse of him.

Satoru looks as breathtaking as always, albeit a little drained. It must have been a rough day for him. But your news will definitely brighten up his mood.

“Babe, there’s something absolutely exciting I have to tell y-“

“(y/n)”.

The harsh tone in his voice quiets you down immediately, the grin on your face washed away in the wind.

“I have something to talk about”, he announces.

Why does he have to be so cold? What has gotten into him? Worry lines disrupt your face.

“Oh, did something happen?”

The innocent tone in your voice kills him right on the spot along with your stunning glimmering orbs…No, he needs to do this. After all it’s for your well-being. You’ll see that too, hopefully.

“I’m breaking up with you.”

You hold your breath, eyes scanning over his stunning face for any hint of sarcasm, for an emotion. But no, all he does is staring down at you with stone cold orbs, arms crossed in front of his chest.

You feel like fainting, world collapsing around you. No, this can’t be true. He can’t be serious. Not long ago, he told you he wants a child with you, he asked you to marry him. Your heart clenches, tears start glistering in your eyes. This has to be a nightmare.

“No”, you breathe out, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I’m breaking up with you, (y/n)”, he insists.

This isn’t a joke or a dream. You can tell that he’s serious, that he means every word he says.

“Why?”

“I don’t love you anymore.”

You can’t believe your ears.

“Just yesterday, you told me over and over how much you love me, you…you had sex with me, Satoru. Just a few hours ago.”

You can’t stop your tears from falling anymore, the feeling of this indescribable loss pulls the ground from under your feet.

“It meant nothing to me.”

His words hit you with full force, pushing you to sit down in order to not collapse onto the floor. Was all of this a game for him? And what about…?

Oh god, you feel like throwing up.

“I’m pregnant, Satoru.”

His heart stops. Your voice isn’t more than a fade whisper, almost too low for him to understand. Did you really just say that?

“What did you say?”

“I’m pregnant!”, you suddenly scream on top of your lungs.

Pregnant… You’re pregnant. You’re expecting his child, the child he told you he wants. You’ll be family! This is absolutely fantastic, you have to celebrate-

No. Satoru stops the seed of joy in his heart immediately. Now is not the right time for that. After all, he’s about to break up with you at the moment.

“I don’t care.”

His word cut through his very own heart like a knife, your face twisted in agony simply takes his breath away. You don’t deserve this, you don’t deserve any of those venomous words he spits at you. But he does it so you are safe. Yes, over and over he tells himself that this is for your best, that at least you’ll be out of the firing line. You’ll be safe and sound, you and his unborn child.

“Leave this place, stay with your parents or something. I don’t want to see you here any longer.”

In this moment, you feel like dying. Your past, present and future plays itself in front of your inner eye, reminding you of all the precious moments together. Was all of this a lie? Does he even care about you?

Like in trance you get up, grabbing nothing but your wallet and phone. You need to get away from here before you break down completely. If this is how he feels, he doesn’t deserve to see your grief.

God, he wants to break down in front of your feet, completely mesmerized by the way you carry yourself so well after his harsh words. Hopefully you will understand that he did this for you. Even though he broke your heart, you’ll live. And this is all that matters…

“Goodbye then, Gojo.”

The venomous sound of his last name out of your mouth makes him collapse onto the couch the second you close the door behind your back, tears glistening in his eyes.

Why? Why on earth did this just happen? Why did he have to hurt you like this? God, please let you understand it when all of this madness is over. Please let you be okay…

- Day of the night parade –

“Oh dear, look at this”, your mother breathes out while turning up the TV volume.

You gaze at the flickering pictures without any emotions, dark circles surrounding your eyes from all the nights without any sleep.

Satoru? You haven’t heard a word from him since that evening. That evening that altered your brain chemistry forever. That evening that showed you his real face. Since you’ve had nowhere else to go and wanted to be as far away from him as possible, you stayed with your parents ever since.

“What is going on at Tokyo?”, your father mutters.

Huh, looks like absolute chaos. Your eyes widen at the sheer amount of destruction, the reporter whose head gets ripped away by…

Your heart sinks.

This was a curse, without any doubt. What about Satoru?

No. You shake your head vehemently. This isn’t about him. What about your students, Nanami, Shoko, all the others? Are they okay? What is going on there? Suddenly you feel like standing up, too excited to sit.

You swore to never step a foot into Jujutsu High again, to start over somewhere else. But this…You can’t just sit here in silence with all your powers while your friends might die through the hands of curses.

“I need to leave”, you announce.

“What? But you said you want to stay here. (y/n), if this is about him…-“

“It’s not”, you interrupt your mother immediately.

“I need to watch after my friends.”

Yes. Screw Satoru and whatever he’s up to. Mindlessly your hands caress your little bump. This is your responsibly, the least you can do.

- At Toyko –

“Gojo-sensei, (y/n) is here”, Maki announces through her communicator as you walk through the barrier with ease.

Impossible.

His eyes widen in pure horror. All this pain and grieving over the last few weeks, all the nights he cried himself to sleep because he missed you, the countless thinking about your precious little baby.

And now you’re right here where you shouldn’t be, running into the arms of Suguru without even knowing it.

“Oh, I didn’t expect he’d be so dumb”, a painful familiar voice behind you suddenly speaks out.

You turn around, taking in the appearance of none other than Suguru Geto.

“Are you responsible for this whole mess?”, you question.

He steps forward, a satisfied grin plastered on his face. Fuck, this isn’t good. Suguru is a special grade, he could kill you without even trying. Are your students around? Maybe they are at Tokyo, maybe they are safe.

“Did Satoru send you here? Apparently he doesn’t care about you”, Suguru’s voice comments dryly.

Your heart immediately stings in agony, fingertips trembling. Just a few innocent words that break you completely after weeks of pretending you’re okay.

“He broke up with me a few weeks ago”, you clarify.

Suguru breaks out in hysteric laughter while all you can do is stare at him and hold back your tears. How is he able to laugh about your feelings? Before he went berserk, you and Suguru got along pretty well. What happened to him?

“3 weeks ago, maybe?”

You tilt your head. Why that question? And why…why is he so accurate?

“Yeah”, you mutter.

“How ironic.”

“What’s so funny about that, asshole”, you bite back.

His figure comes to a stand so close to you that you can feel his breath creeping across your face.

“It’s funny that he tried to save you and now you’re standing right in front of me, (y/n).”

His words pull the ground from beneath your feet, thoughts racing so violently that you feel like throwing up. What did he say about Satoru trying to save you? What is all of this about? You lose your cool completely.

“What the hell are you talking about?”, you yell into his stupid smirk.

“I gave him an ultimatum. But now that you’re here already…Let’s get this over with.”

You aren’t able to properly understand a single word as he hounds a curse your direction.

“Why are you even here?”

Where is Satoru? What is going on here? Where are your students? So many unknown variables, so much pressure. You need answers.

“I’m here to kill Yuta Okkotsu.”

Your heart sinks immediately. Yuta? Suguru is probably on the hunt for Rika. No, you can’t let him get away with this.

“Over. My. Corpse.”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“Oh dear (y/n). I always liked your charm, but nothing better than that.”

It’s hard to keep up with him without any weapon. Where is your dagger when you need it? You only have your powers and your combat skills to attack him. But Suguru isn’t dumb. It’s almost frightening, the way he keeps distance between both of you.

Your baby. Fuck, you need to be careful. After all, stress isn’t beneficial for your pregnancy.

And dying too.

-Satoru’s POV-

He runs as fast as his feet carry him, vision clouded by thick fear. He did all of this for you, to keep you out of grip for Suguru. And now you’re facing him alone, his students not able to help you. What about the baby? He needs to hurry. If Suguru harms one single hair on your head…

“Get away from her. Now”, he barks at his former best friend, positioning himself in front of you just in time before one of Suguru’s curses hits you.

“Ironic, isn’t it? That you even scarified your relationship only for her to run into my open arms.”

“I never thought you would go this far. She’s not only a jujutsu sorcerer, but my girlfriend. I thought you are better than that. Keep your hands off her or you’ll regret it.”

All you can do is stare at his broad back with tears glistening in your eyes. Is this why he broke up with you three weeks ago and left you alone pregnant? To keep you out of sight from Geto?

“Leave this place, stay with your parents or something.”

These three weeks of torture, of asking yourself over and over why you weren’t good enough and where you went wrong…because he was worried?

“Why didn’t you fucking tell me?”, you cry out, slamming your fists against his back over and over.

“Why did you just leave me like that? Why did you not leave me any choice? Why would you leave me standing in the rain pregnant? Why did you do this to me-“

“(y/n)”, he interrupts you, glossy eyes darted at you in a way you’ve never seen before.

Satoru grabs your hands and pulls you closer to him.

“Because I couldn’t stand you getting hurt”, he breathes out.

“Because I knew you wouldn’t watch out for yourself. Because I knew this was the only way to keep you safe, even though it meant breaking both of his into pieces. Trust me, I hated myself every single day over the last three weeks, wondering every miserable second how you’re doing. It made me lose my mind, (y/n). And now you’re here, right here where you shouldn’t be.”

“I’ve got hurt the second you broke up with me just after I’ve told you that I’m expecting your child!”, you scream into his face.

All the pain, the grief, the longing, the waiting. Everything crushes down at you and swallow you whole. All of this was in vain.

“I never stopped loving you, (y/n). On the contrary, my love for you is greater than my longing after you.”

For the first time since you’ve met him, you can see him cry. Tears roll down his face uncontrollably, the ocean blue of his eyes disrupted by rough red.

“I don’t mean to interrupt your little moment here, but now that you’re already here, I can kill you, right?”

As if in slow motion Satoru turns around to his former best friends, hands clenched into fists so tightly that blood spills.

“I will make you pay for every tear (y/n) spilled, for these weeks of torture. You will regret your threat for every single fucking day.”

“Let’s get it on, then”, Geto remarks dryly.

...

Hope you're doing fine. If you're still able to, feel free to tell me whenever you want a part ll of this and with you. Thank youu <3

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk shibuya arc #jjk season 2 #choso jjk #choso kamo #jjk choso #choso #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen choso #chousou #kamo choso #choso x female reader #choso x you #choso fluff #choso hurt #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #saturo gojo #jujustu kaisen #gojo jjk #gojo fluff

[5516-minutes]

hm fuck it. charlos feb 1 timeloop AU where charles does everything he can possibly do to stop lewis from announcing he's joining ferrari in 2025. tries talking to lewis, coercing him none of it works. over multiple loops charles learns all the politics involved and tries to use insider knowledge to change the outcome and it still isn't enough. he is so desperate to stop the heartbreak, to avoid shattering carlos' future at ferrari and what was going to be their future together that he runs himself ragged reliving the loop in days-- weeks-- over and over again-- and it's never enough

but eventually charles comes to understand, this is it. this loop of time is the last i'll see carlos before he will never look at me the same way again. everything will change from feb 1 onwards, everything that was and now won't ever be. so charles goes fuck it. and he restarts that time loop again but to live it for them. he visits carlos on his ski trip to the dolomites and has carlos visit him. they take pictures in that gorgeous infinity pool that will only exist in charles' memories. he texts carlos every day even though he can tell carlos is getting annoyed because they're supposed to be commited to pre-season training because this year is going to be THE year for them and ferrari and the tifosi and everyone who's believed in them for the past three. he even lies to carlos about how he thinks the contract talks are going so that carlos can believe, even for a little while, that his future at ferrari is secured; the loops where charles lies he always forces the reset just as carlos confronts him with the truth.

charles could loop their lives like this forever, if only to remain in denial that come feb 1 he's going to start losing his teammate until carlos finally leaves him for good at the end of the year. but living in a time loop has its physical and mental and emotional costs: charles is tired. bone deep exhaustion that neither he nor the makeup artists can hide for c2's first (last) ferrari photoshoot of the year. both of them know this is the beginning of the end but don't want to say it out loud.

but charles has had many, many chances to learn to live with it. so when carlos holds the camera and tells him to smile, he does.

#charlos #c2 #charles leclerc #carlos sainz jr #1655 #if you can't tell i'm still fucked up about this #is this an explanation for why charles looks so beat in the racesuit photoshoot ?? why yes #ty inch for leaving those tags they were inspiring!! and to that quick fic on my dash about time loops altho that one was funny not angsty #*edited after posting

[onsunnyside]

🍁≬ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 (𝟏/𝟐)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | photographer!Ari Levinson x reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | glimpses of fluff, angst, old flames, childhood friends-to-loves aftermath, ex-boyfriend!Ari, size difference: 6’8!Ari.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Even the most beautiful love stories are bound to end in tragedy, but you thought you and Ari would be an exception.

𝗪/𝗖 | 3.64K

𝗔/𝗡 | currently in my sad autumn girl era but i know it won’t last long so i wanted to share this with you all. sort of poured my heart into it and wrote most of this in a teary haze last night. Inspired by Taylor Swift’s songs: Sad Beautiful Tragic, Exile, All Too Well, The Last Time. [𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 | all asks]. All mistakes are my own. 

˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Don’t look, don’t look, you force your eyes on the television mounted above the table, half listening to the chatter of your friends and the hushed music playing from the speakers. 

A nudge brings your attention to your redheaded friend, “How have you been? You haven’t answered my texts.”

“Sorry, I’ve been working a lot.” The music shop didn’t get very busy, but Natasha didn’t need to know that you spent the past weeks buried in turmoil, revisiting every decision you’ve ever made that brought you here. “I also applied to the dance studio as an instructor, I’m still waiting for them to get back to me.” 

Her green gaze pools with worry. Of course, you’d answer a question about how you were with what you were doing. She hated to pry, but she cared for you like a sister. If you were hurting, she wanted to put a stop to it, or talk about it and try to understand. She couldn’t do that if you refused to open up.

“If you want to leave, that’s fine, I’ll walk you out.”

“I’m okay, Nat. I wouldn’t have come if I couldn’t handle seeing him again.” 

The both of you know that’s a bald-faced lie. Especially because you’ve done everything to not peek in his direction. 

Natasha is drawn away by one of your other close friends, and they fall into an easy conversation with laughs and bright smiles. Their voices fade into each other, a blissful hum filling the loneliness that has clung to you.

I wouldn’t have come if I couldn’t handle seeing him again.

You spoke too soon. 

Ever so slightly, you glance at the bar. Over the heads of the other patrons, his gaze meets yours. Deep blue, unreadable and sharp, piercing heavily through your face. 

Seeing him now, he’s different. His hair is longer, his beard is thicker, and he’s dressed in clothes you’ve never seen before—apart from his signature leather jacket that he wore for most of the year. 

You wonder if the way he carries himself all the same, with quiet grace and self-assurance, too often falling victim to his insecurities. 

You missed him. 

You missed his stupidly loud alarm clock, his cute bedhead and how he never failed to keep you warm on winter nights. You missed his endless rants about society, space and the world, past, present and future. His mind stretched into infinity, and you never always understood what he was saying, but you listened nonetheless. Listening was the best thing someone could do. 

Your eyes fall on the loose and shaggy fabric around his neck. The cream knit was your first little home project, evident with the frayed threads and stubborn coffee stains. That single scarf took you a week because of your lack of experience. You worked on it everywhere, on the train, at work and the park. Your favourite place to knit was next to him as he hunched over his computer desk and went through hundreds of photographs with his glasses on the tip of his nose.

That was the one thing he didn’t mail back. 

He goes around the table, handing out everyone’s selected drinks with greetings. “Sorry, I’m late. I got stuck at the studio with this last-minute family portrait session.” 

“At least it wasn’t another self-proclaimed influencer.” Curtis snorts.

“Fuck no, thank goodness for that.” He laughs, almost too gleeful. When he gets to you, he simply sets the drink on the wooden countertop and flashes a tense smile.

It either took one or ten minutes for you to sip the drink before you rushed out the back door with an excuse about fresh air. 

The cool, November air welcomes you with open arms as if it knew you wouldn’t last very long. You lean on the railing, distracting yourself with the red, orange and yellow trees across the way. The music and chatter fade into whispers, and the crickets and gentle wind take their place. Down below, the water ripples against the rocks, the wooden poles dark and green from the lake, another victim to time, just like everything else.  

The fall season itself was a tale of death. The days got shorter because the sun comes and goes all too quickly and the leaves turn into different shades before falling to the ground. Bidding farewell in warm colour pallets and leave the trees bare, mere skeletons of life, dormant and dull.

Then, they’re reincarnated by spring. Brought back by more sunshine and warmth, blooming hues the world has longed for. 

You wondered when your spring would come, or if you’d be trapped in perpetual autumn. Be forced to feel every part of you change into red, yellow or orange and fall until there is nothing left and you're in a barren comatose. 

You stare down at your dress, the very one he said was his favourite. The soft blue silk is highlighted by the dim fairy lights hung up on the fence. Memories are woven into the fabric and they’re all good because you stopped wearing this dress when things got worse. With a brush of the lace hem, you’re reminded of him.

“I knew you’d look beautiful in this.” 

“You have to stop buying me things, we have bills to pay.”

He scoffs, “bills aren’t going to help my girl realize how beautiful she is.” He takes your hand, pressing his plump lips on your knuckles, “I know it, the world knows it, but she doesn’t. And that isn’t okay with me.” 

The door swings open and slams into the wall, making you jump. 

“Oh shit, sorry!” His voice rings out, “Didn’t mean to scare you, I thought the door was heavier.” 

You quickly wipe your eyes, not caring about your makeup anymore. You tried hard to look your best tonight and embody that healed person you’ve pretended to be for the past few weeks. But he couldn’t say hi or your name. Why couldn’t he say your name?

He tucks away his cigarettes, “You stay, I’ll go out front. You probably want to be alone.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m going to call a cab.” 

“You’re leaving?”

“Natasha knows I have an early morning.” You keep it simple and duck away from his gaze, hugging your purse close as some sort of lifesaver that was keeping you from floating into the sky. Truthfully, you wouldn’t mind that abrupt escape after hearing his next words. 

“Wait—I mean, I’ll wait with you. It’s too late for you to be outside by yourself.” 

Your stride doesn’t slow, you hope he’ll get the hint and just go back inside, but with his mile-long legs, he easily catches up to you. His boots land heavily on the boardwalk and the buckles of his leather jacket chime, filling the strained silence.

“So, did you see that new cinema downtown?”

“Please don’t.”

He raises his arms in defence, a smile audible in his voice, “Sorry, I didn’t realize you hated movies.” 

“Ari.” Your shoulders slump and the sorrow gets heavier. You swear the world could cave under your feet. “Don’t try to—” You cut yourself off, knowing if you didn’t get away now, you’d regret it, “I want to be alone right now.” 

The pine trees sway in the breeze, surrounding you with their natural scent. 

He takes one hesitant step back, nodding slowly. “Right, I’m probably the last person you want to see.”

He couldn’t be more wrong and that only worsened the pain. How could he think that when he was the only person you wanted to see every day for over a decade? 

It stretches far back to when you were children and living down the street from each other. 

How could he think that when you used to wait out on the porch for him to pass by so you could walk to school together? How could he think that when you’ve spent hundreds of hours writing about his face in your diaries, about how his smile could light up a stadium and how his eyes were endless pools of stories and wishes? 

How could he?

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Ari’s features grow concerned as the hot tears stream down your cheeks. “It’s okay—” He reaches for you, gently grasping your hand. 

“No, it’s not.” You try to shrug him off, not bothering to wipe your face. He knew you were crying out here anyway. He knew you more than he knew himself, so it wouldn’t surprise you if he also knew what you were thinking right now—where did he find the audacity to say it’s okay? “I’m sad—I’m still so sad. And you aren’t.” 

Ari stiffens and releases your hand as if he’d been burned. His cerulean eyes are shaded by the night, and darkness bleeds onto his solemn face, “You think I’m not sad?”

You tearily blink, waving towards the bar by the lake. “You seemed pretty happy in there—and you acted like you didn’t even know me.” 

Sure, you probably would’ve cried if he spoke to you, but at least he would have acknowledged you. You’d take that glimmer of attention over his silence any day.

“I was—I am heartbroken.” He confesses, his long hair falling over his forehead as he stares down at you, “I didn’t know if you wanted me to talk to you—”

“Yet you followed me out here anyway.” 

Even in the moonlight, you can see his cheeks turn cherry red. 

“Okay, but I was checking on you. I didn’t mean for this to happen and to make you cry.” He protests, “Am I not allowed to worry about you?”

You close your eyes and shake your head, turning on your heel to continue down the boardwalk. The main street mocks you in the distance, beckoning you with yellow streetlights and the chance to escape, but his fingers wrap around your wrist, holding tightly.

“Wait, please. I’m sorry.” 

His touch is warm and familiar, the other end of the double-edged sword. On one end is the busy street, the carefree people living their lives on this fall evening, the cars driving by, and your bittersweet freedom—but also your lonely apartment with your cold, empty bed. The other end, the one entwining with your trembling fingers, is suffocatingly soft and inviting. Enticing you to stay and listen, but at what cost? Would it only bring more suffering draped in so-called closure or more confusion that your heart couldn’t take?

“Muse—”

“Don’t.”

He inhales deeply and you feel his breath on the back of your head. “I’m devastated, I’m alone, I’m stuck in this disordered loop that I don’t know how to get out of.” His grip constricts, once then twice but you force yourself to stay as unresponsive as a corpse. “You were my first for everything, I-I wanted you to be my last.” 

You knew that and you wanted the same thing. You’ve discussed it countless nights in your shared bed, whispering about the possibilities that the great big world offered, from tamed to outlandish. Picking up a strange hobby, or travelling the globe, he even mentioned moving to a new country altogether, “think about it. A fresh start, just the two of us and unlimited options.”

“I wouldn’t say unlimited, unfamiliar sounds more accurate.” 

“Pick a place, any place and I’ll make it happen.” 

“What if I don’t tell you and just take off alone? Soak up all that freshness by myself.” 

“Oh, then I’ll find you. I’ll follow you anywhere.” 

Experiencing things for the first time together was a big part of your relationship. You were both painstakingly sentimental, which only made it harder to pack your things. Everything reminded you of what was or what could’ve been, you eventually decided to keep what you needed and throw out what carried tender nostalgia. 

You never followed through with that, but you do avoid the many boxes stacked in your closet. Full of pictures, gifts, and anything that reminded you of him. That was where you found this dress.

From the seedlings of memorable firsts, it was inevitable that you two gave each other your first heartbreaks too. 

The tears come back with vengeance, spilling down your heated cheeks, “You ended things.”

“You walked out!” He rushes to apologize, swerving in front of you before you could take another step. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Just please, listen to me.” 

Why? He never listened to you in the end. 

Whenever you brought up concerns about weird tension or the growing emptiness, he never listened.  He was all about work and brushed off dates for last-minute gigs. You knew he wanted a greater future for the two of you, something better than your crowded apartment with your roommates (now the close friends in the bar), and something brighter than the stars combined. 

You tried to understand and a part of you did, but the other part couldn’t take it anymore. The part that missed your boyfriend, missed your mindless conversations and quiet nights at home, and when he picked up that camera and photographed you like a piece of art. 

That part of you won. You laid down your weapons and went defenceless into his line of fire, with only your heart in your hands and a rehearsed speech in your head. 

You never made it all the way through because you two started arguing, right in front of your friends, spitting accusations fueled by rage and doubt, making each other into the bigger villain when it was always clear who was the culprit. 

Even now, although you know it’s him, you wonder if you were an accomplice. 

Childhood sweethearts turned college lovers, plenty of people have made it all the way—to whatever was their ideal. Many people have also given up, gotten tired, or fallen out of love. 

You thought you and Ari were stronger than that, and you wouldn’t let the pressures of life, work, and school weigh onto your relationship. But in the end, those voices were always right, and your shared dreams were crushed at the hands of breakdowns, lost time, and agonizing lulls. 

It was ironic how you’re haunted by voices while Ari rarely used his.

Ari wasn’t loud or interruptive. He was quiet and timid, and as he grew up, he slowly came out of his shell and matured into the tall, confident, and gentle giant in front of you. 

When you were kids, he wrote adorably misspelled sentences on sticky notes to drop into your lunchbox, and then in high school, he wrote love letters to slip into your locker. The sweetest part was that he never signed them, yet you always suspected it was him. He pretended to be curious about your newest note from your secret admirer and asked about the contents, all the itty bitty details of the proclamation in black pen.

He was after your heart, and he surely got it. 

He showed his love through touch, gestures and gifts, through photographs and love letters that were kept in a special box. 

It was beautiful in a way that only broken poets, starved artists and silenced lovers could understand. And you and Ari were all three. The tragedy was in colours no one else could see, the script in an undiscovered language, but to you and all the rest of the heartbroken, it was so vivid and clear. You dipped your fingers into that magic shade and poured your heart onto the white walls of the lonely tower, mourning your knight who would never return. 

You made the tragedy your home, wallowed in it, and pitied yourself over every missed opportunity—the fleeted moments where things could have changed, leading you somewhere different from where you were. But you tried to get better, to get clean of him and those noisy, unhelpful thoughts. You wanted to save yourself, to gather the guts to leave that tower and climb down to the lush grass and sparkling rivers below. 

In delusions, you are happy and satisfied, sober from the destruction. But right now, that false comfort was cracking beneath your feet. You wished to board up the windows and hide away from the world, from him. 

“Will you please listen to me?” He pleads, his voice thick, “just listen, you don’t have to say anything or even stay afterward.” 

“Why?” You turn to him, gritting your teeth to keep from sobbing. “Why should I listen to you when you never listened to me? When I told you that were growing apart, you just pushed me further away. Does—” Your voice cracks, “Does that not seem unfair to you?” Did you not deserve the same mercy he was begging for?

It was too late if he wanted to listen this time. It was gone, flatlined, buried under the dirt with overgrown weeds and ivy climbing on the gravestone. Your names were etched into the stone, just another miserable end in the cemetery of the heartbroken, the battered and bruised, the forgotten and silenced. 

You’ve been a ghost ever since he mailed back the things you thought he wanted. Transparent and floating through the graveyard, weeping in wonder, and feebly searching for that scarf—the one thing he kept.

“I won’t ask again. This is the last time, Ari. You won’t get another chance.”

He opens and closes his mouth multiple times, rethinking every thought racing in his head, but then he finally settles on shutting his mouth. Those plump lips pressed firmly together, a barrier for everything he should say—and everything you had the right to hear. 

Defeated, you release his hand. You didn’t realize you were holding him too, it was all just automatic at this point, unlike this moment which is only a rerun of a film you’ve already seen. 

Your gaze traces his face one last time, locking everything to memory from the curve of his dark eyebrows, the shade of his blue eyes, the point of his nose, the blush pink of his lips, and every freckle like they were constellations. 

In a flash, you’re staring at him from across the classroom, watching him slowly write on a yellow sticky note, his tongue poking from between his teeth in concentration. 

Another flash, and you’re watching him bolt down the hallway, passing lockers and other students with his azure eyes set on you. In his hand is an old polaroid camera and he’s wearing the widest grin, “Let’s go to the park.” He almost crashes into you but grasps your shoulder in excitement, illuminating the dull hallway with his glow. 

You laugh, “I have class… and so do you.” 

“Yeah, but the weather is so nice today.” He pouts, already tugging you towards one of the exits. “Plus, you look really pretty. Wouldn’t you rather be my model, than sit in some dusty old classroom?”

He kissed you that day, under the biggest willow tree in the park with his hand on your cheek. He blushed a nervous red and asked so sweetly, “Can I—May I please…” He trailed off, profusely blinking at your parted lips, “Will you let me b-be your first kiss? And will you be mine?”

And finally, you’re back in the present. His looming shadow as he towers over your lifeless frame, executed by the quiet and unspoken words. You’d take anything at this point, from shuddering pleas to choked apologies—you’d grovel for a single syllable. 

“That’s it.” You scoff in disbelief, “all you can do is look at me?”

Again, silence. His eyes pool with tears, seconds away from streaming down his cheeks and matching your wet trails and ruined makeup. He doesn’t speak, but he’s breaking, cracking at the surface like delicate porcelain holding back a flood. 

“You deserve better than me.”

No, he doesn’t get to decide that. He doesn’t get to use that stale statement to dig his own grave, right alongside yours before the final self-deprecating eulogy. It didn’t matter if he thought you deserved better than him, all that should matter was that you wanted him, that you still wanted him even after all of this. 

“So, you’re just gonna let me go? After all we’ve been through?” After you’ve given him everything, and showed him every part of you and let him in.

The first tear falls, dripping down his beard and onto the worn knit. Then another, and another until they’re streaming down his cheeks and soaked up by the scarf. “You’re already gone.” 

There it is, the last nail in the coffin.

Ari has never been aggressive or forceful, but you wished he’d be brave. You wished he’d fight for you, step into the battlefield with an unrelenting resolve to make things right—to get you back. But he doesn’t, he just looks down at you, chewing on his lip with clenched fists. 

He’s surrendered to the war, abandoning you in the tower of tragedy, but joining you in the cemetery of the heartbroken. He’s signing his name on the death certificate and damning you and your wistful dreams, erasing every ‘what if’ that has plagued the both of you since you were children.

“You couldn’t be more wrong.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat and fight the weakness in your knees, but you refuse to do this to yourself again, to give him a chance he won’t take. You turn around and continue down the dock, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself in a form of self-soothing. 

Autumn was a story of demise, but it had to be better than the earsplitting silence. You’d take the cruel cold and neverending abyss over the lack of effort. Right now, there was no spring in sight, no rebirth to raise you from the dead but you’d find your own life someday and somehow without him. You had to save yourself, be your own hero and come out victorious—alone, but triumphant.

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬:  i’ve already started a part two for those of us who want a happy ending, so if you’re an angsty person, feel free to just leave it at this part. i’ll let you all know when i have a date. this is also my second time writing angst on here, and i had a few good cry sessions. i know this isn't the usual filth but i hope you all enjoyed this nonetheless.

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! i love you all very much. pls take this kith 😚🫶

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! [my inbox] <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

#Ari Levinson #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson fanfic #Ari Levinson x reader #Ari Levinson x you #ari levinson x fem!reader #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson angst #ex boyfriend ​Ari Levinson #ex ​Ari Levinson #Ari Levinson fluff #Ari Levinson x reader angst #the last time au #sonny’s stories #Chris evans #Chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #Chris evans characters #red sea diving resort #reader insert #Photographer ​Ari Levinson #photographer!​Ari Levinson #ex!​Ari Levinson #angst #fanfic

[foreverisntenough]

- YOU’RE MINE -

Summary: While you daydreamed about his face an ocean apart, he had no idea what yours was about to do to him. With a twist of fate and the heat of summer, a new relationship would completely ransack his heart - Everyday heavy with the thought of one another, neither of you were going to let the unexpected love of your life go. You were going to be his, you were his, and you were going to stay his.

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, smut love bombing, occasionally sad, kind of angst- not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: I hope you like it! There will definitely be more parts (don’t know how many just yet though.)

INDEX

Chapter 21 - ‘You’re Mine’

“If you don’t get in your own seat so we can land in Greece I’m gonna kill you” Lauren yelled at you from the other end of the plane.

“Finally, someone putting Y/N in her place, just gets her way all the time.” One of Marcel’s friends piled on.

“Alright, alright, relax…” Trent tried to hush them before nuzzling a little into your neck whispering against your skin. “Wanna get up before we land, beautiful?”

“Don’t wanna” you whispered, still half asleep. “Wanna be back in our bed, T.”

“You’ll have a bed there with me, don’t you worry. C’mon.” He grunted trying to stand up with you latched to him. He managed though and plopped you back on your own seat. The plane landed safely. You all walking off the stairs of the plane into the warm heat.

“I don’t wanna hear anything from you.” You groaned as Lauren came up wrapping her arm around you.

“Relaxxx, Y/N.” She laughed. “It’s fine, we talked about it. It’s all fine.” She attempted to persuade you that her and Marcel fucking wouldn’t be a big deal.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m actually dying though, it's so hot right now.” You ignored her and started to complain, trying to pull your sweatshirt over your head. You still didn’t feel great and the heat was not helping. When you finally got to where you were staying though your sluggish feeling seemed to disappear at the sight of the luxury villa. It was massive and gorgeous, perfectly settled on the coast line. It had a big lawn out back with an infinity pool at its edge, sun loungers, a beach club below accessible by a private set of stairs. The house was modern, big windows floor to ceiling, each bedroom having an outdoor space. You beamed and grabbed at Trent’s waist squeezing him from behind as he carried all your stuff.

“It’s perfect, T!” You quietly squealed as you squeezed him tighter walking into the house.

“You like it? Happy?” He asked, turning his head to try to see you.

“So happy!” You came round him to hold his hand taking it off your suitcase. You tried to carry your own for a moment but struggled so he shook off your hand and continued carrying both bags while leaning over to press a kiss to your temple.

“Just let me do it, I’m serious.” He laughed at your poor attempt to help. You all explored the house noisily, the boys fighting over rooms, Trent knowing the villa took you immediately to the Master bedroom. It had a big bed in the middle of the room, white, filled with pillows, a cement floor, a giant en suite, and a little living space that led to an outdoor space with a fire. Trent collapsed on the big bed as soon as he walked in… dramatically, of course. Sighing.

“You want me to unpack for you?” You asked as you moved the suitcases around towards the walk-in wardrobe.

“Nah, I want you to c’mere.” He gestured lazily for you to come over to him on the bed. Instinctively, you straddled over him. He was already hard the moment you sank down.

“T…” you giggled as his hands moved quickly but smoothly under your clothes.

“C’mon… I’ve got you all over me last night begging me to fuck you. Just lemme touch you now. You don’t want that any more? hmm?” He smuggly teased you for your desperation last night but was similarly begging for you to let him have sex with you now. His hands pulled off your clothes slowly and sensually, you felt yourself start to go from hungover and tired to very turned on and completely soaked.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” You moaned as you grinded your core on top of his hard cock. His lips pressed into yours for a suffocating kiss. Your body laid flush against his as you made out. You sat back up on his lap and your tits bounced in a mesmerizing way that had Trent immediately following you up, his lips around one of your nipples swiftly, his tongue flicking back and forth over it, surrounding it. You were gasping out a moan when his free hand came up to play with your other. “Oh my god, s-shit, that feels so good, baby.” Attending to one and then the other, swapping his mouth for his hand and his hand for his mouth.

“You’re so fucking hot… fuck. Need to be inside you right now, baby.” He moaned, pulling you back down with him to lay on the bed.

“You want to fuck me, T?” You asked teasingly, rubbing your dripping wet core down his hard length beneath you.

“Yeah, baby. Gimme what’s mine. Let me fuck you so good. Let me make you feel good.” He rattled off words but you had a hard time listening after he lined his cock up with your entrance, lifting your ass up and guided you to sink down taking all of him immediately. You were so wet it was seamless but the minimal foreplay made for pleasurable pain from the stretch of him. “You’re such good girl f’me. You okay, baby?” You nodded and started to ride him after adjusting a little. It felt so good you could feel the knot in your stomach form almost immediately. You and Trent just understood each other's bodies, what each of you needed. He naturally hit the perfect spot every time in quick succession. He roughly rolled you over on the bed to be on top of you. Pinning you under him.

“Oh f-fuck!!!” You practically yelled as Trent hit your g-spot hard and fast, again and again and again. You could hear just how wet you were as your walls hugged him tighter. The knot in your stomach was coming undone quicker than you expected. You tried to put your hand over your mouth to muffle your moans but he wasn’t having that. He held your hands above you with restraint as he continued to fuck you.

“Wanna hear how good I’m making you feel, baby.” He whispered against your neck before biting your sensitive skin only pulling another, louder, moan from you.

“T…” you whined. “Please, I’m so close, I’m so… f-fuck!… I’m so close.” You told him squeezing your eyes shut as you started to feel your orgasm approaching. He was so deep inside that you could feel every ridge and vein.

“Shit, just wait a little bit for me, beautiful. You can do it, yeah, just a little more for me. Take it like a good girl.” Trent struggled to get the words out as your pussy started to clench tighter around him. “Tell me how good I make you feel… tell me your mine, this pussy’s mine.” Lost in his own pleasure drilling in and out of you as you whimpered. The warmth of your pussy completely captivating him. Unbeknownst to you, Lauren had opened the door to the master bedroom about halfway with the innocent intention of coming to see your room before she witnessed you getting absolutely railed by your boyfriend. Her eyes blinked a few times in shock at the rough nature but slammed the door closed immediately. Neither you or Trent even noticed the intrusion too focused on the other.

“What?” George came to ask Lauren with a furrowed brow confused as to why she shut the door so fast.

“Well…” she paused for a moment only then for your voice to be heard through the door, answering for her.

“Fuck, you make me feel..ah! so good. F-fuck… this pussy’s all yours, I’m yours… fuckkk.” You could barely get the sentence out as Trent continued to pound into you. His high now approaching. His large hands drew down your body in between you two and began rubbing little circles on your throbbing clit. Your mind turned to mush. His thrusts becoming increasingly sloppier and harsher.

“You’re such a good girl, f’me. Cum all over my cock, yeah? I’m gonna fill you up, baby. Make a fucking mess on my cock while I fill you up.” Trent babbled as you came, your body aching, your eyes squeezing shut again. You were gasping as Trent fucked you through your high.

“T…baby” you moaned, feeling his release painting your insides.

“That’s my good girl…” he said as he pumped you full of his cum extending the pleasure of your high. He laid on top of you completely spent as you both breathed heavily, whispering I love yous back and forth. Every part of Trent was so unfairly pretty you just laid there admiring every inch unable to move.

“Honestly…” George groaned, rolling his eyes at Lauren. The pair heard the whole crescendo of your little session. “Some people just have it all.” He shook his head.

“His dick can’t be that fucking good…” Lauren laughed as they moved away from your room down the corridor.

“I hate that I know he has a big dick too, like what more does he need. He’s one of the best footie players in the world, fucking makes millions of pounds, he looks like that..” George threw his hand back towards the direction of your room. “And… he’s got a big dick, honestly, of course he has a girl like Y/N.” He grumbled but was laughing a little. Trent was his best friend, of course he felt a little jealousy but he loved him, his rant was purely banter.

“She’s not that great…” Lauren said, laughing at George. He just gave her a telling look. “Okay, well..” she laughed a little harder. “She’s fucking perfect, I know! She’s my best friend. I deal with it every day. She’s so hot, her face is beautiful, she’s smart, she’s so nice, everyone loves her… People like them deserve each other. God just wanted them to have it all.”

“It’s ridiculous.” George laughed equally as hard. “I’m jealous to be fair, imagine fucking pulling a bird like Y/N.” He said walking into the kitchen where a Marcel and a friend of his were sat.

“Yeah, mate… I couldn’t. I’ll never have that shot.” Marcel’s friend answered George’s statement openly.

“Guys…” Lauren cooed with a little pout. “You’re all objectively good looking boys don’t act like T is some… ” she paused trying to think of a way to lie to tell them that being a professional athlete didn’t effect his image to women. “I don’t know…but you could all pull your own version of Y/N, someone good for you.”

“I’m out of this conversation…” Marcel remarked moving to open the refrigerator that was next to where Lauren was standing. “Not really interested in a Y/N variation. Shoot my shot elsewhere” He spoke into the fridge before whispering so only Lauren could hear. “What’d you think, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, can do that.” She whispered back, trying to suppress her giggles.

You had dinner that night out at some restaurant so you got ready with Lauren in her room taking your sweet time. The boys attempted to complain about how long you took but seeing as Trent wasn’t phased by the time consumption and their comments falling on deaf ears, they quickly deduced this is how the trip was going to go. They had no say, you were going to get ready as you pleased.

You wore a white linen halter dress that had a ruffled neckline that cut so open and deep you couldn’t even wear pasties so you were just praying your nipples behaved and stayed covered tonight. You opted for a mesh Gucci nude GG heeled sandal that featured the logo monogram patterned in rhinestone crystals across it paired with Bottega Veneta silver drop earrings and matching silver mini Sardine Bag .It was simple but effective.

You made your way into a fun little restaurant tucked on a cobble stone street you were going to worry about in your heels later. It was private and nice to not stress. You sat at a long table with too much liquor on it already. You nestled next to Trent… obviously but anyways…the boys filled the rest of the table and Lauren had neatly placed herself between George and Marcel’s friend, Marcel across from her. A little bit after you all settled you heard a loud familiar voice.

“I’m here, don’t worry” said muddied in a laugh. You picked your head off Trent’s shoulder to see an illuminated, gorgeous, gorgeous, Jude Bellingham.

“Wow, the golden boy graces us with his presence.” Trent mocked. Jude coming over to give him a hug.

“Mrs.TAA, you okay?” Jude laughed at his own joke and planted a kiss on your cheek.

“Yeah, all good. Haven’t seen you in forever, was starting to miss you.” You teased seeing it had been under a week since you last saw him.

“Alright, lads?” Trent said, sticking his arm out to dap up Jobe and Jude’s friend, Toby. They all proceeded to sit at the table for dinner when you felt your phone buzz. You already knew from who. A text from Lauren…

‘Bathroom immediately. Y/N… wtf.’

You kissed at Trent’s temple before getting up meeting Lauren at her end of the table to walk with her to the bathroom.

“Excuse me! Excuse meee!” She feigned a yell but was whispering, squeezing your arm. You could only laugh at her reaction. Lauren had developed quite the crush on Jude or built some sort of lust at the very least. She’d never actually met Jude but, like everyone else, she was obsessed without having to.

“I’m sorry!” you laughed, not really meaning your apology. “I told you not to ruin your trip night one!” Continuing in a fit of giggles pushing the bathroom door open. “Also, you said ‘it’s fine’” you mocked her voice repeating what she had told you about her and Marcel.

“Oh my fucking god, what do I do?” She looked at herself in the mirror and shook her head. “Why do I do this? I did this to myself… You know what? It is fine, it’s fine.” She started giggling too.

“Is it?” You asked, staring into the mirror with intrigue back at her while reapplying some lip gloss.

“It is!” She yelled laughing. “No, but why can’t I mess around, I’m single. I’m not not going to shoot my shot with fucKING JUDE!” She got louder at the end of her sentence.

“Don’t hurt anyone, that's all I’m asking. Don’t disrupt my peaceful life.” You joked.

“Peaceful is comical” she made fun of you. “But seriously what do I do. I can’t go out there and just like go introduce myself that’s embarrassing and desperate.”

“Because you’re… not….” You laughed. “No, I’m kidding but we’ll just go back out, sit down where we were and eat. If he introduces himself or something gets turned in your direction then you can answer, if not, then we can pretend we forgot, unphased, and introduce you two as we leave before we go out.”

“Fine, fine, yeah, that’ll be fine.” She babbled trying to adjust her outfit now.

“Does that sound ‘fine’” you mocked laughing.

“You’re not being helpful!” She moaned, swatting at you.

“I am! Just do what you do best. Sit there and look pretty and let all the little English boys fall in love with you.” You joked pulling at her top.

“Ugh the accents I cannot.” She whined. “I’m not going to make it out of here alive. How do my boobs look?” She said pressing them together, pushing them up.

“Perfect, if I was a boy.. oooff” you joked making a face. “I’m not and still… ooof.” Flattering her.

“You’re the worst! I can’t believe you did this to me… let’s go…” Lauren moaned, pushing you towards the door, you both still laughing. You arrived at the table following your little plan back to your seats.

“Okay?” Trent asked, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear.

“All good” you said cheekily, unable to hide a big smile.

“What? What’s up with you?” He smiled seeing yours, pinching at your waist, moving closer to you, starting to press wet kisses against your skin.

“Nothing! Nothing! Stop! Leave me alone!” You giggled squirming, feigning annoyance but loving every touch.

“I forget the nausea momentarily… and then it returns so fast. You two are so gross.” George complained watching you and Trent. Down the table though Lauren was completely disinterested in what was happening in your direction. She sat, her arms slyly pressing her tits together leaned further over than needed to let them practically spill out on the table. She’d lick her lips and play with the straw of her drink slowly. Marcel and his friend weren’t complaining, they figured that’s just Lauren being Lauren. She could feel Jude’s eyes flicker over her though. At first a glance inspecting the table and then a stare infatuated with what he saw down the table. She looked good and Jude wanted to meet her immediately but he was cooler than that, calmer than that so he played the game she was. He recognized who Lauren was from your Instagram and stories but he was fantasizing about getting to really ‘know’ her. Lauren picked her drink up, her tongue dancing around the straw like she had a hard time finding it. She took a sip and wiped her mouth slowly with her thumb, her fingers dragging over her plump lips, her mouth gaping a little. She knew he was watching her so she kept her head still but flicked her eyes towards him. They made eye contact. Jude attempted to wink, he couldn't but he tried. She smiled softly, holding in a laugh and sent him a more successful wink back.

Dinner wrapped up and you all were going to go out to a small club, nothing crazy, not tonight. You stood up, Trent’s arms hung over your shoulders as he stood behind you whispering mischievous things in your ear. You were a little lost in the moment feeling his body against yours, his lips ghosting over your ear, his voice, his hands over you… until you remembered you had to go help Lauren so you stepped out of his hold. Trent wasn’t thrilled, he grabbed at your hand a little with a pout but you pulled to walk away.

“I’ll be back, baby, promise” you cooed, pushing your lips out with a ‘mwah.’ You pulled Lauren from her current conversation and walked with her back over to Jude, Jobe, Toby, and Trent as normal as if you were just coming back to get into the car that was arriving soon. You faked a moment of realization. “Wait, I just remembered you haven’t met yet…” Lauren looking at you with innocent doe eyes like she was unaware.

“Nah, don’t think so.” Toby’s eyes lit seeing Lauren. She was every man’s dream to be fair but he sat on the same side of the table as her so he hadn’t clocked her whole appearance yet.

“Sorry, sorry! My bad, Lauren…erm, this is…” and you went through the motions saving Jude for last.

“You’re so leng.” Jobe’s words fumbled out of his mouth. His cheeks once full dropped, he was shocked he said it aloud. Everyone laughed a little giving Jobe shit as they all politely introduced themselves to one another. Your cheeks warmed hearing Jobe though, something was so endearing about him you just wanted to squish him but you had to focus on Jude for the moment. You pulled the group apart in directions towards the arrived cars nonchalantly leaving Lauren and him trailing behind intentionally.

“My little brothers right, ya know?” Jude spoke first, his hand coming to the small of Lauren’s exposed back.

“About…” she cooed pretending to be naive.

“You’re sexy. You know you’re sexy.” Jude hushly said into her ear. Lauren giggled a little.

“You think?” Trying to play coy but she couldn’t resist saying more. “You’re very sexy too, Mr. Bellingham.”

“Yeah, think so?” He teased, very well aware he was.

“You know you are… but I did manage to find a flaw though.” Lauren spoke as her eyes danced over his frame.

“My flaw?” Jude was taken aback. What was she talking about? It wasn’t the way he thought this conversation was going so he just waited with the new feeling of being on edge.

“Someone cannot wink.” Lauren laughed adjusting her top but really just was calling attention to her tits. “It’s fine we all have our flaws.” She teased.

“I’m not sure I’m seeing any right now.” He whispered against her ear. She could feel his plump lips, his hand moving down her spine a little more. “You can’t possibly have one.” He fed her ego.

“People say I’m a little too touchy, maybe that’s a flaw.” She cooed looking straight ahead pretending to ignore his proximity.

“Nah, can’t be that.” Jude laughed a little. “Haven’t touched me once.” He reminded her. Lauren turned towards him almost immediately, placing her hand on his chest.

“Do you want me to touch you?” She said the words dripping with seduction.

“I know what you’re doingggg” you jumped a little as Trent sang smug in your ear when he came up behind you his hands caressing your skin.

“Just let them meet…” you said sheepishly, a little shy with your decision and under the warm touch of his hands.

“Y/N, Marce is involved now, this is a bad idea, baby.” He tried to explain. He placed a kiss behind your ear before coming in front of you holding your hands out fiddling with your fingers until he laced his with yours.

“C’mon, let it unfold! They’re all adults.” You whined with a pout. Pulling his hands a little towards you for him to let go of yours only to return his back on your body.

“Barely…” he laughed, gripping your ass, palming it in his hands. You could only shake your head giggling along with him.

You made it inside the club, it was chic, small, good music, good vibes, you had kind of split off into two groups within your own section. Jude and Trent, Jobe and Marcel, it just worked that way. You were cuddled up with Trent, next to Lauren, the others spread around you. Having probably too many drinks but you were happy. You couldn’t help yourself from making out with Trent sporadically. Although when he got up to go talk to Marcel quickly when he remembered something, you suddenly felt just how needy you were, immediately missing him. God, were you that horny? Fuck… but it wasn’t that, you were actually just absolutely wasted. You hadn’t noticed from how firm Trent’s hands had held you, so steady. You were really fucked up and not in a good way, your head was spinning. When you looked at Lauren, her figure blurred. You stood up, wobbled a little, and started to go to the bathroom.

“Want me to go with you?” Lauren asked sweetly, rising up from her seat but you waved her off. You needed to reset. Get some water, splash some on your face, and be somewhere quiet for a second. In retrospect, you should’ve told Trent where you were going, asked him to help you. He would’ve, he literally stepped away for 5 minutes and you acted like he had deserted you and you had to survive on your own. Lauren told Trent you where you went when he came back and he hummed in understanding getting caught up on the current conversation mindlessly unaware of your state.

‘Fuck’ you said as you gripped the bathroom sink. You turned around quickly only to trip, smacking to the flooring barely reaching the toilet before you threw up. This was a disaster. You felt like you were going to cry all alone. You don’t know what you drank but something fucked you up bad. You sat on the floor for a while before standing, pulling yourself up by the sink, leaning desperately on it. You looked in the mirror and sighed at how disheveled you looked. It brought back haunting memories of times before you had met Trent. ‘No, no, no, not doing this.’ You slapped your face. You had been gone for ages when Trent texted you, that’s when he and Lauren both realized she had your phone. You gathered yourself best you could, conscious enough now to know you needed Trent, Lauren, you don’t know Marce… literally anyone you knew to help you. You opened the bathroom door and stepped into the hall before leaning against the wall to prepare yourself to go back. It was then you realized you maybe didn’t want literally anyone you knew to help you. You felt sicker than you did before when you heard the voice.

“Well, well, well, I’ll be fucking damned. Nothings changed huh?” A man’s voice cooed from in front of you. You knew exactly who it was, it was fucking crazy he was here but you knew who it was but you could barely lift your head up.

Chase… Chase was let’s just say not a good person and for some reason he was like a tumor on you. He was cancerous, ever growing, returning at inconvenient moments, sickening, life ending. To say he treated you like shit would be an understatement. You felt his calloused finger lift up your chin. “Not happy to see me. Come onnn Y/N” he dragged. You winced as he placed his hand against the wall next to your head caging you in. You and Lauren both knew Chase from university but you specifically did all things unimaginably imoral with him. “What are you doing at a club here? Where have you been? Haven’t heard from you in ages… not like you.”

“Fuck yo-you.” You swayed slurring and he laughed. “I mmmoved to the UK, I didn’t want you to hear from me.” You managed to get out some words.

“Yeah, still skinny as ever… “ he gripped his opposite hand around your arm, his fingers being able to wrap fully around it. “How’s that working out, have a new man stuffing your mouth full?” He rudely asked. You could only shake your head. Suddenly though you felt like you saw an angel cutting through the crowd. Trent appeared next to you and grabbed Chase’s hand harshly off the wall. Your eyes welled up relieved but your stomach dropped now nervous upon his arrival.

“You wanna back up, mate?” Trent spit.

“What the fuck, bro?” Chase shouted shaking his arm out of Trent’s hold.

“Back the fuck up from my girl.” Trent said again sternly, much more calm then Chase, stepping slightly in front of you.

“Ahhhh…” Chase laughed mockingly. “Your girl… I see. That’s how you got to Greece. Opened your legs up the second you hear an accent like your dads? The jokes write themselves, babe”

“You need to shut the fuck up right now.” Trent bit back.

“Or what bro? Do you know who my dad fucking is? Who the hell are you?” Chase obnoxiously and confidently pushed unknowingly against Trent.

“I’m so fucking serious…” Trent paused when a friend of Chase’s you’d never met came over. His arms flinging around his neck.

“Yooooo, how the fuck did you meet Trent Alexander-Arnold!” The friend yelled drunkenly. Trent rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Yo, fuck City, you guys should’ve won the league. Can I get a picture with you, my man?”

“Mate, look, great to meet you but not right now. Currently your friend is being a cunt.” He emphasized the word. “… to my girlfriend so I’m sorry brother.” How Trent seemed to remain kind to a stranger in the middle of this you didn’t know.

“Oh, got yourself some shitty athlete only he would know, embarrassing honestly.” Chase spoke again, gesturing to his drunk friend hanging off him.

“Bro! That’s Trent Alexander-Arnold. He’s fucking won everything in soccer. He’s like one of the best right backs in the world.” Chase’s friend informed him and momentarily Chase felt stupid and panicked but it only spurred him to push his friend away and say something more crass.

“Aye good for you, she’s easy to manipulate, I get it. Pussy’s fucking tight, lets you fucking use her how ever you want.” He kept talking and you felt like you were going to throw up again.

“T…” you said pulling on Trent’s arm.

“Y/N, fucking find Marcel… now.” Trent practically barked at you, motioning you to go back to your section and you listened obediently as your eyes welled with more tears making it hard to see. His head quickly snapped back to Chase

“See, she just does whatever you say. Can be a bitch but you just shut her up with a dick in her mouth. Keeps her skinny too… she’d be just fine gagging on me.” Chase laughed.

You stumbled back into the roped off area, falling before getting back to anyone. Jude and Marcel rushed to pick you up.

“Shit! Are you okay?” Jude said crouching down to you.

“Hey…What the fuck is happening?” Marcel asked you panicked. Jude helped you up but his eyes were scanning the place looking for Trent. You started balling crying. You couldn’t breathe. Marcel carried you over to the couch where you clung to Lauren sobbing.

“Who the fuck is he talking to?” Jude asked into the club’s air. Lauren perked up stretching her neck to try to see and when she saw who was in front of Trent she audibly gasped.

“Holy fuck… fuck.” She was shocked. She recognized Chase immediately.

“What the fuck is going on?” Jude asked, seeing her reaction. “I’m going over there to see what’s happening.” Leaving abruptly. As he approached Trent he could hear the tail end of one of Chase’s sentences.

“She’ll come back to New York I’m sure crying to me when you realize she’s not that hot, nothing more than a good fuck. Another whore desperate for attention.” Chase cackled looking behind Trent seeing you struggle.

“Shut the fuck up bro. Fuck you” Trent shouted, everything went red. His ears were ringing. He felt his knuckles crack against Chase’s bone structure as it broke. He hit Chase so hard he fell to the ground knocked out for a moment as his nose gushed. His cheekbone and nose completely shattered.

“Aye! Aye! What the fuck is going on!” Jude rushed over grabbing Trent, pushing him away, standing in between the two boys. Chase’s friend came running back too.

“Oh fuck!” He said looking down at his friend before seeing that Jude had come over. “Yooo Bellingham you’re the goat, man, this is crazy” the kid was clearly fucked up and didn’t care too much about Chase’s well being and was more interested in meeting Jude, who frankly didn’t even bat an eye at the mention of his name.

“Fuck you! Don’t fucking ever come near her again, don’t fucking touch her, don’t talk to her, don’t even fucking think about her. You’re a piece of shit!” Trent spat at the ground Chase was still laying on. Jude was still piecing together what was happening but was quick to back Trent regardless. He didn’t need any information or reason.

“Fuck you bro. Take your small dick and your dad’s credit card out of here, you cunt!” Jude yelled as Chase scrambled to get up. Security came over and picked up Chase telling him he needed to leave. It was a surprise to Chase and his friend, they looked dumbfounded but it wasn’t a shock to Trent and Jude at all.

“What the fuck? Are you serious? That dick punched me.” Chase groaned, holding his nose. He was right Trent knocked him the fuck out but as ‘important’ as Chase thought he was or as big of a deal as he thought his dad could be, it was never going to match up with the status of footballers.

“Sorry, sir. We prioritize the safety of our VIP patrons. You’re causing a disturbance and we do not tolerate any type of harassment.” The security guard said robotically, shoving the two boys out.

Jude didn’t ask Trent what happened. He knew it was better just to leave it alone for now so they both walked back to your area in silence. Trent’s heart pounding, his fist bruising, his mind running wild with what he just heard about you. You were still collapsed on Lauren crying when they returned. Trent pulled you off her and wiped your tears, swiping under your eyes with his thumbs softly. He was so gentle as he picked your limp body up.

“Let’s go. We’re going back to the fucking villa.” He said so aggressively in contrast to his touch moments ago.

“I’ll come with you…” Lauren said standing up.

“No… fuck no, seriously. Me and her are fucking leaving, just have a good time. We’ll see you lot later.” Trent shortly said, moving with intent out of the club..

He knew everything about your past, you had told him but he brushed it off, he didn’t like it but it wasn’t like you two met virgins, he had a past as well you weren’t fond of. You were adults, you moved past all that, or so you thought. That said, Trent was feeling a blinding rage at the moment. Hearing this fucking boy talking about you completely infuriated him. You witnessed girls falling all over him all the time, in front of you blushing at his words, holding his arm tightly in a photo, god, posting him on their Instagram stories drooling, it was hard but that’s the life you had committed to. You trusted him at the end of the day to only be with you. On the flip side of the relationship though, Trent had never really seen you interact with any other men. He kind of moved you directly to be under his watch early on and you were happy with that. The guys you were around were always his teammates, family, close friends and you were his. He never saw you out at a club dancing, he never saw you flirt with a waiter jokingly with your friends, he never saw any of it because he was always there until he wasn’t. He couldn’t have been there for times you had been with Chase. It drove him mad there was nothing he could do about your previous antics. He blacked out, not from alcohol but from anger.

Chase treated you like shit. Plain and simple. Cheated on you, although you’re not really sure you were ever his girlfriend but he definitely was your boyfriend. He called you nasty names, used you for sex, it was mean, rough, and derogatory always, he made fun of you constantly, the whole experience was demoralizing and it tanked your self esteem. You don’t know why you chose him, the whole ‘the man you meet at 19’ rang in your head, for whatever reason you had and he stuck to you like a leech. You just wanted someone, anyone to love you because you had fallen so out of love with yourself, but he loathed you, he did everything but love you. The self doubt and hatred was bad, scary, and toxic. It created a terrible relationship between you and other people, you and food, you and your body. You resented Chase for it because he planted the seed. It wasn’t until about a year or so before you had met Trent that you finally drew a line. Things had gone too far. He pushed you too far.

The car ride home with Trent was excruciatingly silent. The inside of the car was so cold, you felt he was miles away sitting on the other side of the seat. He completely disconnected from you. He couldn’t stomach it. He couldn’t stop thinking about Chase fucking you. Hearing him mention the tightness of your pussy made Trent ill. He loved you no matter what but right now he couldn’t handle the emotions swishing around in his head, the liquor pooling in his liver… fuck, the image of the hem of your dress dangerously high on your thigh lit by the moonlight in the car. He hated that he wanted to fuck you right now, prove to you that Chase was never the one for you, but the thought of it alone hurt his heart. He wasn’t meant to compete for you. How could you have been with someone else, he didn’t blame you, you didn’t know Trent yet but he was heartbroken, his Y/N, his Y/N was with someone else. He just wanted to make this all go away. Disappear. He knew it was a juvenile emotion but he couldn’t shake his anger.

“I’m sorry” you tried to speak but Trent was still in a fury.

“Enough Y/N.” He yelled, slamming a water on the bedside table. “Just go to fucking bed, alright?” So you did. You walked to your side of the bed but you were struggling to get your dress off. “C’mere.” Trent said much softer now, sweet almost. He helped you out of it, taking off your jewelry carefully as you stood completely naked in front of him. “It’s so frustrating how beautiful you look all the fucking time.” Shutting his eyes trying to block his view of you. “Just go to bed…please” He pleaded when he pushed a t-shirt of his back at you. He left the room. You curled up in bed, he sat out on the couch, both quiet, just blankly staring. It was a while later but Trent’s tornado of thoughts was paused momentarily when he heard a familiar loud laugh from outside the villa. When he started to see the shadows of everyone else outside coming back from the club, he got up and made his way to your room.

When he opened the door he felt sick. He wasn’t mad at you at all. He was upset that someone was talking about you, that someone else had been with you, touched you, knew you intimately when you were his. He was insatiably jealous. He looked at you and you looked so frail, you didn’t radiate the same glow you usually did, your body looked drained. As he quietly stepped further into the room, he could see that your body was shaking trying to keep your tears silent. He could hear you sniffle and gasp for air occasionally. He wanted to punch himself now, he couldn’t be the one that made you like this. This is not how you’re supposed to be. He was supposed to make you happy, keep you happy, and here you were miserable partly because of him. ‘Fuck’ he muttered as he heard everyone else finally in the house drunk, rowdy… happy. He took off all his clothes down to his boxers before he slid into the bed. He pulled the blankets up over himself and you. He didn’t want you to feel like he didn’t love you. He pulled your limp body towards him by your waist. You took a deep breath feeling his hands back on you. You knew he was there the second he opened the door but smelling him, feeling the heat off his skin made you cry even harder. You were falling apart in his arms so he just held you tighter. He pressed his lips to the back of your neck and held them there. He didn’t really want to kiss you yet, he was still upset but he needed to be that close to you. “I got you, I’m right here, your Ts got you.” He whispered as his lips moved over your skin. You started to calm in his arms more after hearing his voice. He held you so tight to his chest. If you weren’t having trouble breathing from all the crying you would’ve had trouble because of his hold. You dozed off eventually, exhausted physically and emotionally from the night. Once Trent knew you had fallen asleep he finally let himself close his eyes too.

You were so out of it you hadn’t noticed your phone had been blowing up with texts from Lauren. She was freaking out. She had an okay night knowing you’d be safe with Trent but she kind of cooled her jets with the whole Marcel and Jude decision. At the beginning of the night she had kind of thought she was going to hook up with Jude but then right after you left, Marcel was so comforting to her, she started to get confused so she opted for neither.

It was early morning when she woke up a little anxious now that the house was completely silent, she was more sober and worried sick about you. She also realized how absolutely thirsty she was so she slumped off her bed and made her way to the kitchen. She had packed pajamas that were sexy, girlie, cute, but in the drunken chaos of the night she ended up in a little bralette and tiny biker shorts. You would argue that calling them shorts would be a stretch. Her entire ass was out. Anyways, she crept into the kitchen quietly but she almost screamed when she felt someone’s hand wrap around hers on the handle of the refrigerator, their body coming behind hers.

“Jesus fucking Christ you scared the shit out of me!” She started to laugh because her heart was beating so fast. She turned her head to see the ever pretty, but currently very sleepy Jude’s face, lit by the refrigerator light.

“Sorry, Angel.” He spoke softly and low.

“What are you doing up?” She whispered, turning fully to him.

“Could ask you the same.” He cooed back.

“I’m worried obviously.” She shrugged at the obvious.

“They’ll be fine I think, Trenski’s just never had to deal with any of that with her before. They’re okay.” He attempted to reassure Lauren as his hand wrapped around her waist. She just hummed a little, taken aback by his hands movements, her heart still beating very fast. “Thought I was gonna spend a little more time with you tonight.”

“Oh yeah? That’s sweet. I’m sorry, I just needed to get to bed tonight when we got home, usually I’m up for a little after party.” Lauren spoke into the quiet kitchen, sexual tension thick in the air.

“I would’ve liked that. Maybe tomorrow… or today I guess.” Jude laughed

“Yeah. For sure. Well, I was going to go back to bed after I got my water.” Lauren held up the bottle for display with a cute sleepy smile.

“Yours or mine?” Jude cheekily laughed.

“Stop!” She slapped at his chest. He took the chance to slip his other hand around her, pulling her body flush against his.

“You want me to stop…” he whispered.

“No… no, I don’t think so.” Lauren whispered back. Jude’s face incredibly close to hers now, their noses touching.

“I told you how sexy I think you are, yeah?” He continued to whisper his hands coming to grab at her ass roughly. Kneading it. She moaned before pressing her lips against his.

“Is this a good idea?” She asked, feigning some sort of innocence.

“I don’t really care.” Jude spoke, his teeth biting onto her lip pulling it back with him. Their hands all over each other. A proper make out ensued as the sun began to rise.

“Tomorrow… your bed.” Lauren moaned out muffled by another kiss.

•

Thank you for continuing reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter / series … 🤍

Next part - Chapter 22 xx

#trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagines #you’re mine fic #taa x reader

[bullet-prooflove]

Lunch Break (NSFW) - Angel Reyes x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @wakeama @witches-unruly-heart @keyweegirlie @trhett21 @annetje @infinity-mars @emily2003alzaga @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @thatonesexycancerian @expir3dl0v3 @appreciatelove @the-wandering-lunatic @weiwei0210 @anime-weeb-4-life @multifandomloversworld @harperdoodle @cheyrenee @fanfic-n-tabulous @stressed-chas @daydreaming-belle @est1887 @prettyinpunk85 @adaydreamaway08 @thanossexual @briefpersonenemy @creativitybeware @crimeshowjunkie @librarian1002 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @thebaileybugle @legally-a-bastard @bonsaijoons @sclitvdes @justreblogginfics

It’s rare the two of you get together on your lunch break but Angel is in the area dropping off a bunch of scrap when he takes the chance and drops by the farm. It’s harvesting season and you’re usually in the fields, collecting the buds with the rest of your employees but today he finds you in your office going through the distribution orders.

You’ve been outside in the thick of it, he can tell from the scent of kush that clings to your skin. He inhales it deeply as he buries his face into the curve of your throat. He hasn’t had a joint since before Valeria came along, and the smell of it on you now reminds him of the days before his daughter, when the two of you would light up a spliff after fucking in the back seat of your car.

His lips are teasing as he trails up the curve of your throat, his teeth grazing that deviant little spot just underneath the hinge of your jaw. His calloused palms guide the flannel shirt down along your arms until it cinches at your wrists, he twists the fabric, binding it into a knot at the base of your spine.

“Oh it’s like that is it?” You tease as his palm grips your jaw guiding your mouth back to his.

There’s a dark look in his eyes, one that tells you that this is exactly what Angel needs. He needs to take control and you need to relinquish it. It’s the balance of your relationship.

“Yea, mi reina.” He whispers against your lips. “It’s like that.”

He undoes the button of your Levi’s, drawing them down your thighs until your left in a white vest top and a pair of white cotton panties. You’re already wet, he can see that growing damp patch spreading across the fabric.

“So desperate for me already.” He murmurs, his fingertips trailing over the shape of you through your underwear. Your hips arch, a low moan erupting from your throat as he traces delicate circles upon your clit. “It’s been too long hasn’t it baby? Since I’ve touched you like this.”

His fingers slip lower, the tips pressing lightly against your entrance, exerting just the tiniest ounce of pressure. You keen at the sensation, rocking against his fingertips, urging him to move. He doesn’t, he just keeps his fingers in the same place, lightly pressing.

“Please.” You whisper against his lips and Angel smiles, that sinful grin of his as he tugs off your panties and shoves them into your mouth with two fingers, because his queen… she gets a little loud when he fucks her.

He slips out of his overalls, the garment pooling around his ankles and boots as he sits you on the edge of the desk, his palms forcing your thighs wide open. You’re dripping for him; it smears across the wood as he grabs the base of his cock and guides it to just the right place. He’s slow as he enters you, savouring the sensation of your pussy gripping him as he pushes inside inch by inch.

“Oh, you need this don’t you.” he utters once he’s fully seated. His fingers thread through your hair, gripping it tightly by the roots as he draws your head back. You clench around him, the low whine stifled by the fabric in your mouth. “Need it as much as I do.”

His thrusts are hard, deep, you feel every single one of them as his dick rakes over the filthy little space just inside of you, the one that would make you say his name if you weren’t gagged.

He feels it as you get close, your motions become more urgent, your breathing more ragged, his hands slip down to your ass holding you in place as he fucks you just that little bit harder.

That gag does nothing to hide the noise when you come, the sound tears from your chest, your pussy gripping his dick so tightly, it forces the air right out of his lungs as he erupts deep inside of you.

He uses his fingertips to withdraw the panties from your mouth before he cups your jaw, guiding your gaze back up to his. There’s a twinkle in his eyes you haven’t seen in a little while, a spark of the old Angel, the man he was before all of the stress of the custody battle settled upon his shoulders. He unbinds your hands, drawing the flannel shirt back up over your shoulders.

“I missed this.” He tells you, his forehead coming to rest upon yours. “Missed being like this with you.”

“Yea.” You whisper as you kiss his lips. ��Me too.”

Love Angel? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x you #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes imagine

[jazminrhode1]

Hi hello! Omg I luv ur writing so much especially what you write for Matt (matt girl over here :P). I was wondering if you could write something where Matt and the reader have feeling for each other but are sure if the other feels the same and then they get drunk (or not) and confess their feelings? SOmething like that? Thank you very very much!!

You Do Love Me, Right? Matt Sturniolo x Reader One Shot

Summary: You have chemistry with Matt but, you need to know how he feels.

Word Count: 1202 words

As you walked into the party with all your friends, there were people everywhere. You grabbed your besties hand so that you wouldn’t be separated by the crowd. The house was tucked away in the Hollywood Hills and you weren’t exactly sure where you were. You certainly didn’t feel like you belonged there.

You felt like you could finally breathe when you made it to the backyard, away from the sweaty people dancing and blaring music. You could see all the lights of Los Angeles way out past the infinity pool. You were certain you didn’t belong here.

“Y/n!” you heard someone scream over the music and excited chatter. As you scanned the crowd on the back lawn, you saw Matt making his way toward you, followed closely by Nick and Chris.

“Y/n!” he called again, from a couple of feet away as he jogged over and pulled you into a hug. “I’m so glad you could make it,” he said as he stepped aside to let Nick and Chris in.

Matt was the main reason that you came to this party. You weren’t just friends, you weren’t dating, you were floating in the abyss somewhere inbetween. You could’t count the number of conversations that you had with just your eyes across rooms at parties just like this one. You were embarrassed at the number of times that you cancelled plans with your friends just so that you could see him. He had such a hold on you so much so that even the mention of his name made you dizzy. 

That wasn’t friendship right? Your friends didn’t call you up at all hours of the night just to ask you how you were. You didn’t fall asleep on FaceTime with your friends talking about Pokemon and all the ways that you related to Eeyore. Your friends didn’t leave their phone or keys on your countertop to have an excuse to come back after they left. You never felt like you had to hide your chemistry with your friends and the gentle touch of a hand didn’t make you want to die.

“What are you y’all doing?” Chris asked from the other side of the firepit. 

Matt was sitting beside you, his hands in his lap, a little too close for comfort. “What?” he asked, confused before he realized the room on the bench to his left. He locked eyes with you and slid over to make some more room for you and your friends.

“God, why don’t you sit on her fucking lap, dude?” Chris joked, followed by a smirk.

He always did that. You were both like magnets, drawn together. He always sat or stood a little too close. He always found moments to graze your arm or grab your hand in passing. It sent electricity pulsing through your body but, it was usually subtle enough for others not to notice.

A couple of songs later, you went with your friends to go and grab a drink from inside. Your friends cornered you and asked what was happening with Matt but, you just shrugged your shoulders and laughed it off.

To be quite honest you weren't sure what you were. You liked him and you could have sworn he liked you too. You loved him but, you weren’t sure if he loved you back.

You spent the rest of the night bumping into people you half knew and meeting others you had seen online. You knew people who would kill for an invite to this party but, this was just not your scene. If Matt wasn’t here you would have made up an excuse as to why you couldn’t go out tonight.

As you slipped away from your friends and snuck upstairs, you locked yourself in a half-bath in the hallway. You touched up your makeup in the mirror and sat on the marble vanity to catch your breath. You could have spent all night in here with him, hiding from everyone else and doing nothing.

That was the thing about Matt. You didn’t need to be doing anything at all to have fun. You liked his company. Nick and Chris thought that his stories were slow and unentertaining but, you could have listened to him talk all night.

As you scrolled through your phone you realised just how many memories you had with Matt. The picture of him asleep on your lap on the plane from LA to Boston. The picture you took of him from the passenger seat when you went for a drive to Malibu. There was the picture you took with a couple of fans that you met when you were out in Denver. There was the picture you took of him and the bouquet of flowers he got you for your birthday.

You didn’t know if it was the White Claw or if you were misreading the signs but, you could have convinced yourself that you and Matt had feelings for each other. Drunk at a party wasn’t exactly how you wanted to tell him how you felt. Fuck it. What did you have to lose?

You pulled your phone out of your pocket and texted Matt, “Where are you?”. “By the pool” he replied.

“You wanna get out of here?” he sent. “Meet you out front,” you sent back.

As he headed toward the front door he saw you coming down the stairs. He took your hand in his as you both raced through the yard and up the street toward his car. You had no idea how Nick and Chris were going to get home but, at this point, you didn’t care.

As you drove down Santa Monica Boulevard toward the beach, your stomach was turning. Were you really going to do this? Were you really going to risk it all? Did he even feel the same way? Were you sure of that? Your head began to spin and you weren’t sure if it was nerves of that fucking White Claw.

As he pulled into the parking lot, you saw the moon reflect off the ocean. Now was as good a time as any to tell him how you felt. At least if he didn’t feel the same there was enough alcohol in your system to shield the blow to your ego. Before you worked up the nerve, he turned his whole body to face you.

“I keep telling myself that I might be crazy and that this might be nothing at all,” he started, “But, Y/n, when I’m with you… There’s something here, right?”

You nodded slowly.

“Ok, because we’ve been laughing it off for a while and I wasn’t sure but, you do love me, right?” he paused.

You nodded again. “You love me?” he asked.

“I love you, Matt,” you said as your lips crashed with his. Your face was in his hands and you climbed onto his lap.

After what felt like forever, you pulled away, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. His gaze penetrated your soul as he said the words you had always wanted to hear from his lips and his lips only.

“God, I fucking love you, Y/n,” he said.

#Sturniolo Triplets #Matt Sturniolo #Matthew Sturniolo #Matt Sturniolo Fan Fic #Matthew Sturniolo Fan Fic #Matt Sturniolo Fanfiction #Matthew Sturniolo Fanfiction #Matt Sturniolo One Shot #Matthew Sturniolo One Shot #Matt Sturniolo x Reader #Matthew Sturniolo x Reader #Sturniolo Triplets Fan Fic #Sturniolo Triplets Fanfiction #Sturniolo Triplets One Shot #Chris Sturniolo #Nick Sturniolo

[vsyrworld]

charlos drama after controversial twitter reye's created.. here is my shots

charlos (charles leclerc/carlos sainz jr)

M for kissing

anggsstt, drama, singapore gp, the iconic marina bay pool, comitment talks, (carlos parents are trash here sorry)

-- "Zero" inspired by (born to die lana del rey lyrics)

two week before singapore gp

turns out, they didn't go to singapore earlier as they planned to do. carlos flew back to spain with his parents, leaving charles alone in hotel room with a complex feeling. internet has been speculating lately, about how... how charles' image as too nice, too friendly, too happy-- accusation spiraling around that it is just a facade.

charles still laying down on his bed , carlos' bed, that is long cold. he waits and scroll, scroll again through infinity thread.

'what the fuck is wrong with carlos' he thoughts.

or maybe they didnt like him as much as carlos do. maybe whatever this thing between him and carlos is wrong. maybe nico rosberg words true though, he speaks his jealousy.

is he? is charles jealous of carlos? the realization sinking deeper into charles heart and mind. he didn't-- but at same he is- but carlos never been in monza podium before so it's fair. and charles is truly , beamingly, happy to see his teammate on top of monza. he is not jealous, no charles is capable enough to separate on off the track.

but does carlos? is he really mad or just mad, or annoyed that charles pushed him hard? carlos said he didn't enjoyed the battle, he watched the cooldown video,

didn't like it but the race was good. carlos didn't like it.

he gulped his own saliva and feel the tears start forming at his eyes. charles bring his forearm to cover his face, curling at the side where carlos' slept, the bedsheet is no longer warm, carlos scents on thin air, he barely can smell it anymore.

'are you mad at me?' 10.30 AM

he typed to carlos and it seems his boyfriend already on the plane. charles sighed and goes into his slumber before any of tears streaming down into his sleep.

one week before singapore gp

carlos didn't reply his message. charles put down his phone and stares into his kitchen wall,

"what are you going to wear during the karting? should i use long sleeve or t'shirt is fine?" there is a similiar voice shouting at him from living room.

charles' finger twitch to send another message. it is so rare that carlos forget to reply his messages, as far as he knows charles name is always on the top in his chatroom.

when is your flight to singapore?

i haven't prepare my flight you know... just in case

well, let me know! i'm available after jules' karting race! (sent 07.00 AM)

and now it's already lunch time. arthur rumaging his clotes, go back and forth towards living room and kitchen, find something to fill the stomach before touching down the track

"Bro!"

"What?!" Charles jumped at his brother.

"You are out of space again. Come on! we had race to go!"

ah yes., karting for jules is held today and the reason why charles standing in the kitcen because...

he blinks at his brother as arthur raised his eyebrow,

"you won't cook pasta for us right? i choose to not eat a whole day rather than to eat yours" he said before storm away to his own room.

what was it again? oh right, he need to toss the pasta, well yep shit, it's dry now. carlos used to pour a cream milk and hot water to the pasta while adding some herbs, that is what make the pasta so chewy and tender. so he grabs a glass and pouring the amount of water then a milk, letting it simmer until he felt the texture is just right.

he hummed at his creation. savory and creamy. the spices kicked his mouth deliciously. maybe for carlos, it's too spicy. but it doesn't stop him cooking for charles, every night, every little chance they had, it always goes like: carlos with grill pan and the steak smokes all around him while charles sitting down the counter, ready to annoy him with sauce or eating the dish, making carlos snarked then they will bantering with each other. lucky for charles, sometimes carlos could fuck him over this counter, letting his come painted the walls or some of them might be decorating their food. carlos said it's delicious anyway, charles might think it gross but what's the different than getting swallowed a whole?

he chuckled at his own thought, and remember something

right, he missed carlos.

"your cooking skill is improving"his maman takes a bite out of nowhere

charles grins sheepishly, "i have the best teacher"

his mom, always like an angel, smile and nods, telling him a goodjob. charles haven't say anything about his relationship, but somehow, his mom gives him a secret smile and charles didn't know how to reply it.

singapore gp week

Feet don't fail me now

Take me to the finish line

Oh, my heart it breaks every step that I take

But I'm hoping that the gates, they'll tell me that you're mine

12 PM, in the pool. just two of us.

charles breath hitched as a new message from carlos comes like a bolt of lightning. it's wednesday evening and charles started to worry if they will never talk about this. but patient always has it's own rewards.

charles stunned to watch the marina bay building from his car.

"your room is in level 16, number 5"

marina bay is beautiful

"charles?" his trainer voice slightly become annoyed because charles lost in his own world.

"where's carlos?" he said while still looking up to the building.

andrea sighed, "just a couple room closer to you. come on get moving charles, we've been here for thousand time and yet you still starstrucked looking at the building like a newborn baby" he says grumply before taking charles luggage out of the car

charles hummed, but it's true. singapore become more beautiful each year. andrea doesn't understand how beautiful singapore is to charles. and he thinks about the secret they kept in this country, sounds like an exclusiveness, charles loves it. he wonders if carlos feels the same.

so it is time to meet him then.

marina bay pool, midnight

carlos already sitting on the pool only with his swimming trunk when charles came to the highest floor. carlos and citylight infront of him, glorious, carlos and race track, magnificent, carlos gives him a side glance to him, endearing.

he smiled at his own idea before standing up beside him and

--a massive splash from the pool like slamming down by a whale

"ppfttt cahlos!" charles, soaked like a cat, still wearing full pajamas clothes. it not fair, he groans while looking at carlos who laughed at him.

"baby" carlos try to reach charles waist but before he could grasp any hems of charles's strings, the monegasque jump over and drowning both of them.

carlos wraps his arms in his waist, meanwhile charles hands find a grips in carlos' shoulder. they gave up and swim up to the surface.

he didnt know if he should laugh or take a breath first but they did both at the same time and ended up coughing. so so stupid.

"don't" charles gasping for a breath but still anchoring himself to carlos' neck

his teammate laughed and bring him into a soft kiss.

"charles," finally. oh charles want to cry.

he cradles carlos face with both of his hands, fingers trails the sculpture of his lover face, so hurried as if this moment will be gone in a flash. he missed him so much its hurts.

"charle-" carlos tries to speaks between the messy kisses but charles having none of that

stupid carlos left him hanging just after they sleep together. he hates carlos who run away and comeback as nothing happen.

"charles"

"non" he keeps kissing kissing his lips until it felt raw, fresh from their exchange saliva and carlos moans against him.

"you." charles ending the kiss by caging carlos head with both of his hands. "left me!" green versus brown, and charles sure he looks menancing now because how carlos brown eyes looking at him earnestly soft, innocent, afraid to be hurt.

despite his annoyance, carlos replies it with a sad gaze and a whimper. he closed their gaps in the water by pushing charles into pool side and hugs him close.

just right them, the race track is shining and splendid. the glows from track lights illuminating through the sky

they stayed in each other embrance in a damn long time, charles thought, did carlos booking the place so only two of them allowed to be this intimate?

he brought his finger to cradles carlos' hairs, "you cut it short"

only replied by a hummed against charles' neck. carlos snuggled closer into charles' skin

"what?" he decide to ask

"how many..." carlos sound unsure, " what did you see on internet?"

so this is it. charles gulped down, hands never leaving the thick locks that somehow shorter than before.

"everything..." he brushed carlos's spine up and down, "everything and it so unecessary. but..."

"but?" carlos fingers sinking deeper into a flesh of his waist

"i hate the way you treat me. just left me. it's dumb carlos, you make me feel dumb"

a silence occurs for a minutes, "it's complicated" carlos said. he cranes his neck to meet charles gaze that not looking at him, but to the scenery behind them.

"how so" charles asked him without spare a glance, "how could you say that when you also put me in a complicated situation?"

he watched carlos's face become more confusing than before, is he really?

"what do you mean"

'oh mamamia" charles giving him a tsk and carlos clearly grunts at his answer.

"you really jealous of me having my first podium in monza? charles you are unbelieveble--" carlos fingers are no longer in his waist. he whines at the coldness of water splashing against his body

"not that point" charles cuts him, " if you didn't like it why don't you just say it? if you can't say to the media, why not be honest to me? why would you need to be like 'oh the race was good but i didn't like it' at the same time you also say 'i enjoy the race, battling with charles is good', when you actually felt it wasnt!" he throws his arms into his side, making the water splashing everywhere

he doesn't dare see carlos eyes, he might cry, or maybe he is already. because he felt a warm water stings into his eyes, or maybe it just a splash of caporite.

"why you didn't say anything to me. people accusing me that i'm the one who lies to the media meanwhile i'm actually really like it and having fun. i'm so happy for your podium because you fucking deserve it the whole weekend. and they still said things like that-- and and " he is rambling too much but carlos let him to continue,

"and your mom, the twit, it doesn't make anything better!" charles gasped, " and i need you that time. i need you to convince me, to tell me that us is okay, but you are gone, you... you left and i don't know am i did wrong. does your family dislike me that much? is whatever we are having this right now, is wrong?!"

"charles hey" carlos cupped his cheek and it's a wet mixture between pool water and tears

charles shutted his eyes, it's stings and hurts in many different way, he tends to overthink so much and carlos is the one who often calm his racing thoughts but he wasn't , not at particular two weeks before singapore.

🎶Don't make me sad, don't make me cry

Sometimes love is not enough

And the road gets tough, I don't know why

"is me loving you, consider as a sin?"

carlos grips his face tighter, "charles!" his voice rough, disliking charles thought

it doesn't get better

"loving you when we are f1 driver is already hard!" he wriggles from carlos touch', but carlos held him firmly

charles brought his own hands to his eyes, palms against the eyelids desperatedly, and his voice becoming wavery as he speaks up,

"why you don't make it easier for me, to loving you as a person?"

"why carlos?" he lets carlos to see his vulnerabilty. when he opens his watery eyes, charles was shocked because carlos sheds more of tears, leaking down from both of his puppy brown eyes.

"don't say things like that"

charles was so stunned seeing his teammates cried so he completly blank as carlos brings his face closer for a deep kiss

he tasted a salty tears, the lashes are heavy with droplets. charles gasping for carlos's tounge and it sets firmly inside him. carlos brings his hand to brush against charles eyes,

"im sorry" he could hear carlos whimpers against the kiss

"im sorry, im sorry" carlos pulled away from his lips and goes into charles' nose, "im sorry, charles", and a drop on where his dimples used to rest, "i'm so stupid, i'm sorry" then settle it long on charles' forehead, "sorry, shalrs"

"carlos" charles look at his eyes and found carlos hiding something from him.

"sorry, i..." he stutterd as fingers shaking against charles' cheek. charles covers carlos' hands with his own, smoothering his hair hands slowly until the finger stop shaking.

"i'm serious being with you.about this. about us" carlos breath against him. then he let out a chuckled

"i've been thinking about the future how will i purposed you, how big or small our wedding goes, and yet here i am being so stupid that i can't even understand you, be with you, convince you that i love you."

charles stunned at carlos confession, "married..? you want to--"

carlos chuckled in his own tears, "my parents, they don't fancy you, but i'm hunderth percent sure it's because we are still teammates. they used to be like that to lando too, but not as severe to you." charles still eyeing him closely, seeing how carlos scrunched his face, preventing tears to spilled

his brows furrowed, "i swear i tried talk to my mom but she doesn't listen. yes, i didn't like it how you are pushing me hard while i'm defending but i'm also having fun. so so much. that's why i said that to media, i-- i want to tell you but things happen and my parents urge me to come home together and..."

"and you didn't replied to any of my text" charles said it bitterly

"yeah" carlos losen up his grips then settle down on his arms.

"i was..."

"its okay" charles sighed,

"charles. no, it's not okay. i made you questioning your feelings. i made you feel dumb" carlos is now looking at him shakingly, like... like he is a murder of someone or spill some ferrari secret to media.

but charles thinks about many possibilites of their position now. which is zero for them to come out as a couple. it is not a strategical condition from the team where they are still have a poor perfomance, it is not beneficial for carlos because of his on hold contract, and still controversial for their sponsors.

zero.

"but what does it takes? you can not just marry me here without our parents knowing. even so, i still can't hold your hands in public. i never had a chance to do a proper date with you!"

"are you breaking up with me?"

charles groans at carlos dumb answer, "seriously?! you think i'm that easy to give up !?"

carlos whinced, "no..."

"stupid" he huffed and looked away from carlos. thought lost at singapore citylights. they are supposed to having fun, it's singapore. their country, their history starts here. and yet... their downs choose to happen in this place too. charles smiled a little in his heart, knowing their hardship growing in singapore too. because he knows, love is not enough as the road get tough. it needs a communication. requires strong believes and commitment.

"i am sorry, please don't give up on us." carlos tugs charles arms and without further do, charles melt to the embrace.

fighting on track against carlos is exhausting but fighting off the track with carlos is more mentally worn-out.

"how about you?" charles asked, mumbling his face against carlos' neck

"i'll make it up for you. let's have a city tour right now. i heard there is night market that is very delicious."

charles blinks twice, right now? "date right now? like,, this in the midnight?"

he felt a warm washing his body, "yes charles. right now. lets go somewhere. we have plenty place to explore in singapore." carlos, for the first time they meet again, giving him a fond smile.

"but, people will see us. your parents must be watching you--"

"fuck them. i want to be with you. to spend a proper couple date with you."

charles could feel another tears building again but now, it's a happy one. one step being in public. slow but sure.

"okay" he breathes out. "help me change my clothes please?" charles wiggle his brows, creating a laughter from carlos

🎶Keep making me laugh

Let's go get high

The road is long, we carry on

Try to have fun in the meantime

sooner or later the world will now about them. sooner or later, charles will happy showing of the golden band that sit comfortable in his fourth finger. sooner or later he can walk hand in hand with carlos. but right now, the public only see their shoulder brushing against each other while they walked in orchid pedestrian street. carlos' parents might be seen the picture of his son feeding up charles the best kaya toast he ever tasted. later in the morning, rupert and andrea will scold them for sneaking out the hotel like a petulant child.

but above them all, singapore has witnessing their love oath. the country saw laughter, kisses, and tears they shared. five years ago they present themself to each other and singapore was watching them

and now, it is become the only secret they shared together. is sort of an exclussiveness. charles and carlos decide to keep it longer for a moment. and when they ready to state it publicly, singapore have to be the only place. it is.

--

born to die by lana del rey just a charlos masterpiece

#Jkakdlwjdkwnlsnsksbwkskkw #WHAT IS THIS #I WROTE THIS SAD WTF I DIDNT #charlos #1655 #THIS IS SO RUSHED BUT I CANT GET OUT THIS OF MY MIND #BYEEEEEEE GUYS #singapore gp is rent free in my head #charles leclerc #carlos sainz jr #c2 #my fics

[femininenachos]

Vacation au? Do tell 👀

They arrive via ferry from the mainland, then by rental car.

“We would’ve got here a lot sooner if Grandma Wells ever dared to go above 20 mph.”

“Excuse me for not wanting us to plummet to our deaths on a blind turn, Octavia. Those roads are treacherous.”

“The speed limit was 40. 40! A senior citizen could go faster. In fact, an old lady on a Vespa overtook us back there.”

“That is such bullshit.”

Clarke drops her luggage and cuts across the argument. “Guys, enough! Come see the view.”

She throws open the patio doors to reveal an infinity pool with the most spectacular backdrop. Sparkling azure waters, rippling in the early evening haze, dramatic red-brown cliffs in the distance descending sharply into the sea. The picture postcard perfect village of Polis sprouts out of the rugged mountainside, whitewashed cuboid houses with painted blue doors, window frames and shutters, clustered tightly together and cascading down the steep slope.  

It takes her breath away.

“Oh, wow.” Wells peels off his shades and stands alongside Clarke in silent awe for a minute, transported by the sheer beauty of their surroundings. “Okay, I could get used to looking at that every day.”

“Right?” Clarke agrees with a wistful sigh. “The Airbnb photos didn’t do it justice.”

“Bell’s going to be so fucking jealous when he sees this on my Stories,” Octavia says, whipping out her phone.

To one side there’s a secluded courtyard, hemmed in by purple oleanders, the fragrant air thick with the scent of bougainvillea in bloom that climbs the walls.

It’s a slice of paradise; a dream come true.

Their haven for the next two weeks, and Clarke already feels the stress that followed her across the Atlantic melting away.

She fully intends to make use of that hot tub, preferably with a trashy airport novel in one hand and a fruity alcoholic concoction in the other. Just switch off, relax, and unwind. Mentally, she’s already changed into her swimsuit when Octavia pushes in between them and drapes her arms around their shoulders.

“So… what are our plans for this evening?”

“A glass of wine and some nibbles and an early night.”

That earns Clarke an appalled look from both her friends.

“I just came off a sixteen-hour shift. Who else here scrubbed in for three separate surgeries yesterday then hopped on a plane? I’m exhausted.”

“Fair,” Wells shrugs.

Octavia isn’t so sympathetic.

A frown sits on her face. “You can’t be a shut-in on our first night, Clarke.” Her eyes turn pleading. “Look, we’ll just have a nice, low-key dinner at the taverna. Maybe hit a bar or two after.”

Clarke groans.

A tug on her wrist. “Come on, we’re on vacation. Live a little. Whatever happened to party monster Clarke Griffin?”

“Uh, residency and 200k of student loan debt.”

She looks to Wells for backup, but he remains studiously blank. Some ally he is, she thinks with an inward tut. Meanwhile, Octavia just pins her with one of those formidable stares that always fills Clarke with a vague sense of inadequacy. 

She crumbles after a beat.

Heaves an exasperated sigh. 

“Fine. But no shots.”

~*~

Of course, the first thing Octavia does when they’re seated on the outside terrace is order a round of fayaflou. Distilled locally, it might as well be 100% proof pure ethanol by the way it burns down Clarke’s throat and starts an inferno in her chest. Even Wells chokes a little, but Octavia just acts like she guzzled down spring water fresh from a mountain stream.

“Another?” She asks, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

“Fuck, no,” Clarke croaks out through a coughing fit. She holds up a palm in surrender, the other flat against her sternum as if that could somehow mitigate the effects.

A scoff from Octavia. “Lightweight.”

“I’d just like to return home with my liver intact.”

“Same,” Wells says, his features contorted into a pained grimace. “I didn’t agree to this trip to get blackout drunk. Polis is steeped in culture and history. I mean, did you see those incredible ancient ruins on the drive here?”

Octavia rolls her eyes so hard the retinas nearly detach.

But after a moment’s reflection, she concedes. “Actually, you have a point. Gotta pace ourselves. The night is young and I’ve got my eye on that hot piece over there.”

All eyes follow her nod to the bar, where an impossibly chiselled, handsome guy is making cocktails. Tall. Tattooed. Muscles bulging out of his tight black shirt as he juggles two bottles at once with impressive showmanship. 

They all have to scrape their jaws off the floor. 

He might be the most beautiful man Clarke has ever seen, not that she would dare interfere when Octavia has her sights set on someone. But then a waitress glides up to him, passing off an order with a short, melodious laugh that reaches Clarke’s ears and when the woman turns around, Clarke’s mouth drops again.

Because she is gorgeous.

Chestnut brown hair pinned up in a twist, a few loose tendrils framing the kind of face that people wrote epic poetry about thousands of years ago. High cheekbones and pouty lips. A jawline cut from marble. Eyes drawn heavy with liner scan the terrace, landing on Clarke for a second, and those lips pull up almost imperceptibly, twitching into the subtle hint of a smile.

Caught staring, Clarke flushes and drops her gaze, feigning a sudden fascination with the laminated menu.

“How is it that everyone here looks like a model?” Wells wonders aloud.

“It’s all the genes,” Octavia says in a superior tone, proud of her own distant Polisian ancestry. She props her chin on her hand and bats her lashes. “We’re naturally beautiful people, what can I say?”

Wells snorts. “Naturally conceited, maybe.”

“Whatever. Clarke. Clarke? Clarke.”

A finger snap in front of her face jolt Clarke out of her daze. She scowls, but when she lifts her eyes, seeking out another glimpse of the waitress, Clarke is disappointed to find her gone.

“What are you having?” Octavia asks. “I’m thinking… calamari to start, and maybe we could share the seafood platter?”

“Uh…” Clarke pretends to pour over the menu options, still in a state of distraction. The words blur together. Her pulse hasn’t slowed yet and her palms are sweating. “Sure, sounds good.”

“Clarke might prefer something off-menu,” Wells says, and she looks up again just in time to see him incline his head towards the waitress approaching.

Octavia hoots delightedly and Clarke kicks her under the table.

All the same, Clarke’s throat dries out.

She can’t force her eyes away, drinking up the sight in front of her. How the crisp, white short-sleeved blouse hugs the girl’s torso and toned arms, such a striking contrast against sun-bronzed skin. One too many buttons are undone, affording a peek of sharp clavicles and a shadowy inch of cleavage. It has Clarke wetting her lips as her eyes dip down, taking in the neat black skirt and heels. Legs that go on for miles and miles.

Clarke shifts in her seat, warmth spreading through every inch of her body. She can’t even blame the residual heat of a sweltering day, the gentle sea breeze providing welcome relief as the orange disc of the sun squats low on the horizon, the last golden rays reaching out like fingers across the sky. 

“Not a word,” Clarke warns, seconds before the waitress arrives at their table.

Then Clarke hears her speak. “Hello, I’m Lexa. Are you ready to order?” Lightly accented English delivered in a crisp, coolly confident voice with a girlish lilt, and Clarke is a goner. 

Fully melts into a puddle of lust while Octavia and Wells rattle off their choices. When it’s Clarke’s turn, she finds herself tongue-tied. Up close, those eyes are the lushest, loveliest shade of green, and Clarke is transfixed.

Her stomach swoops.

It’s ridiculous. She’s a grown adult, a medical professional with years of clinical training below her belt, and inside she’s a mess because a beautiful woman is looking at her with an expectant arch of one eyebrow, patiently waiting for Clarke to recover from whatever brain malfunction she’s currently experiencing. 

“Hi, hello,” trips from Clarke’s mouth and it feels like her soul leaves her body at the same time. In an instant, her face heats. She offers a small, flustered laugh. “Sorry, I’m a space cadet today. Head in the clouds. The time difference, I guess.”

Across the table, her friends hide their amusement behind their knuckles, clearly entertained by her latest episode of undignified flailing in front of an attractive stranger. 

Full lips curve into a smirk that does absolutely nothing to slow the rapid hammering of Clarke’s heart or cool her flushed cheeks.

“What can I get you?”

A date, please.

(And in five years, give or take, a springtime wedding in a converted barn with fairy lights strung everywhere and two hundred guests in attendance, if Mom has any say in the planning.)

Get it together, Griffin.

Like the flip of a switch, she turns on the charm. Eases into a smile, one that’s seldom failed her (and gotten her out of plenty of scrapes besides). Tucks her hair behind her ear and lets her fingers trail down her neck. She sees the way the woman–Lexa’s–eyes darken as they track the movement, how they make a quick but unsubtle appraisal of Clarke’s seated figure.

Her confidence soars.

The mild funk she’d found herself in from a long day of travelling evaporates.

“You know what, I’m feeling adventurous. Surprise me.” Her gaze flicks towards beestung lips then back up, locking eyes once more. “Lexa.”

They hold eye contact for a stretch of seconds, and Clarke feels a current run through her. Mutual attraction, instant and electric.

“More drinks?” The question is intended for the whole table, but Lexa’s attention doesn’t stray from Clarke until Wells clears his throat. She almost appears annoyed by the interruption, a flash of irritation in her eyes, a muscle in her lower cheek flexing before her expression smooths out and she turns her head to look at him. And, God, that jawline nearly takes out Clarke in the process. It’s lickable. 

“Could we have a pitcher of water, please? My friends here are extremely thirsty,” Wells says, glancing pointedly between Clarke and Octavia.

“Make that three margaritas,” Octavia overrules him. “And have the sexy bartender bring them over.”

“O!” Clarke snaps, mortified.

So brazen. 

She gives Lexa an apologetic look, but there’s a ghost of a smirk on her lips again, a gleam in her eyes that suggests she’s happy to play along.

When Lexa departs, Octavia bumps Clarke’s arm excitedly with her fist. “I saw that! My girl, getting her flirt on like a pro.”

“Flirt?” Wells chuckles. “She practically had a sign on her forehead that said: ‘funny how my legs are wide open all of a sudden.’ Zero points for subtlety.”

Clarke huffs out a sigh and crosses her arms. “Oh, fuck off. Let me objectify someone in peace.”

“No, no. It’s good!” Octavia insists. “You should be putting yourself out there more. Especially after the F-I-N-N debacle.”

An eye roll. “You can say his name, O. I won't relapse into a depressive episode.”

“Okay, but you deserve to have fun. Ogle girls. Guys. Nonbinary eye candy.” She pats Clarke’s wrist. “I fully support your hot girl summer.”

Octavia peers past Clarke to check out the bartender again. She bites her lip, eyes glazing over a bit. “And I, for one, plan to climb that fine man like a tree before the night is over.”

Clarke sighs again. Unfolding her arms, she reaches for the empty shot glass in front of her, twirling it around with her fingers. “She’s probably a player, anyway. I bet she’s slept with six sunburnt British girls already this season.”

Tearing her gaze away from the beefy hunk behind the bar, Octavia looks at Clarke dubiously, brows pulled together. “Uh, she seemed pretty laser-focused on you. I felt like I was intruding on some serious eye-fucking a minute ago.” 

A fiendish grin spreads. 

“All signs indicate that Sexy Lexy has the hots for Clarkeypoo too.”

“Stop,” Clarke groans, hiding her face in her hands while she squirms with embarrassment. She shakes it off. “Vacation flings are so cliche, and the last thing I need as a souvenir is an STI.”

“Can we just enjoy a civilised meal, is that too much to ask?” Wells says, shaking his head in dismay. “All this sex talk is spoiling my appetite. I really don’t want to think about either of you in that capacity, ever.”

“Such a killjoy,” Octavia tells him. “Don’t worry, we’ll find someone for you too. A bespectacled, buck-toothed museum guide or something, that’s more your speed.”

Clarke tunes out their ensuing good-natured bickering, eyes landing on Lexa where she stands at the bar, chatting up two stereotypically Scandinavian blonde backpacker types. A tiny, unreasonable ember of jealousy flares in her gut that she tries to ignore. It’s not like they’re anything to each other (yet). Maybe Lexa flirts with everyone to alleviate the boredom of her shift and this is all just a mildly diverting game to pass the time.

As though sensing Clarke’s attention on her from afar, Lexa glances over her shoulder, and in the brief moment when their eyes catch and hold, the slight smile that curves across Lexa’s lips feels like it might be Clarke’s downfall.

Next

#Asks #vacation au #clexa