#// you used the wrong lose imagine /SILLY

[linkemaus]

Not to be that person, but if Kamala Harris were a white man with the exact same ideals, positions, and beliefs, it wouldn’t have even been a competition. Realising that the worst thing you can apparently be is a woman, is truly devastating.

[cilliansmesoftly]

chase it

pairing: tyler owens x fem!reader

summary: tyler has been harboring a severe crush on the team’s new meteorologist, but he’s scared she’s smart enough to reject him.. why can’t he follow his own mantra?

warning: best friends to lovers, love confession, angst, kissing, one bed trope, virginity lost, steamy smut!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ she haunted his dreams, she plagued every thought running through his head. all the meaningless hookups he’s had could never compare to you, and he hadn’t even had you yet. he hasn’t had a kiss, hell, he hasn’t gotten more than a proud pat on the back from you. so why couldn’t he escape the hold you, unknowingly, had on him?

his entire brand was based on chasing fears. to not let it hold you back from the things you want most. tyler had you in some ways, at least. he had you as a best friend, his most trustworthy companion. the two of you got along so well, was it worth ruining?

he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. he’d much rather have a tornado pick him up and throw him into the sky than risk you not being in his life. you were too important to the team, to the cause, and to him. you got offered the opportunity to prove your meteorology skills on the field rather than behind a computer, and you couldn’t pass it up. you risked your career for this, and tyler would be damned to be the one to take that from you just because of a silly, gut-wrenchingly painful crush.

the team was at a local motel in oklahoma after a long day of chasing. dozens of other teams were in the parking lot, tailgating. tyler could hear the strum of guitars, singing, and laughter outside the window of his room. it was small, it had a strange smell that he didn’t want to know the source of. his eyes were fixed onto the box tv sitting on the dresser before a knock was heard at the door.

tyler sighed before getting up, his legs and back sore from how hard he had rode the truck today. the poor red dodge was battered and beaten from debris and tyler’s body was slammed around in his seat, but god, he loved it. he loved the chase, the adrenaline, the thrill. he could do it all day everyday without so much as a thought of fear. however, his breath hitched in his throat when he opened the door to reveal you in all of your gorgeous glory.

“hey.” you sighed out with a small smile. tyler cleared his throat and opened the door wider to let you in from the cool springtime breeze. “the motel doesn’t have anymore rooms. i’ve talked to every employee and every manager i could find.”

“just stay with me.” he spit out fast and without thinking. you’re best friends, you love each other. what could go wrong with sharing a bed for one night?

“oh, thank you.” you sighed in relief and wrapped your arms around him, ty took a step back from the impact, but quickly recovered and took in as much of your touch as you would give to him. “you mind if i shower real quick?”

“no, go ahead. you got clothes?” he asked once she stepped out of the embrace. he would kill someone to see her in one of his shirts. he imagined it baggy on her frame, her legs out on display and barely anything underneath the fabric. he imagined himself running his fingers down the smooth, soft skin of your thigh as you cuddled into him.

“did you hear me?” you snapped yours fingers in front of his eyes with a smile etched onto your face. he shook his head to clear the thoughts and raised his eyebrows, silently telling you he did, in fact, not hear what she said. “i asked if i could borrow one of your shirts, if you don’t mind.”

“i don’t mind at all.” he said, walking around the bed to his duffel bag. he pulled out one of his favorite shirts, it was worn and comfortable, and he tossed it to you. you caught it with feeble hands, giving him a death stare. he knew you were clumsy and he used it to tease you any chance he could. he chuckled at you, watching as you just shook your head and walked into the small bathroom.

if his thoughts were running before you got here, now they were sprinting a full on triathlon. racing and branching off into a million different scenarios for how this night would go. maybe it wouldn’t go anywhere. maybe he’d put out the fire that was burning him alive, eating him up with desire. but maybe it would turn into something more. maybe he’d chase his feelings, maybe he’d ride this fear and turn it into everything he’s wanted since he met you.

if you feel it, chase it.

he repeated his tagline more than a hundred times in his mind. telling himself over and over and over. and in the middle of telling himself one last time, you stepped out of the bathroom and his breath was stolen from his lungs. your hair was wet and it was dripping onto his shirt that fit you so well. it suited you, wearing his clothes. it felt good, it felt normal.

“i feel so much better.” you smiled, climbing into bed. tyler was sat on the chair in the corner of the room and you frowned at how far away he was. “you coming to bed?”

tyler nodded and stood up, he pulled his shirt over his head and you swallowed. his abs were carved and chiseled, a deep v-line at the end of them, just above his belt and leading into his blue jeans. you had to stop yourself from staring before he caught you. he sat on the edge of the bed, his back facing you, as he pulled off his boots. you almost reached out to graze your fingers over the tanned skin of his back, but you caught yourself. you can’t fall for the face of your team, you told yourself. even if, at night when you were all alone, you imagined the two of you together. you thought about living together, chasing storms for a living and making the most out of chasing your fears, making the most out of life.

you thoughts were interrupted as tyler started to unbuckle his belt and pull his jeans down. you smiled when he caught you looking, so you tucked your face into the pillow on his side of the bed so he could undress.

“you can watch, darlin. you know i don’t mind.” you could hear the smirk in his voice and you shook your head against the soft pillow with a giggle.

“shut up.” your voice was muffled by the pillow, making tyler laugh under his breath. he pulled a pair of grey sweatpants out of his bag and slipped them on, collapsing on top of you on the bed. you groaned under his weight, trying to toss him off, but he wouldn’t budge. “ty, i can’t breathe.” you laughed out. he only snuck his hands around your waist, tickling your sides. you shrieked, your knees trying their best to buck tyler off of you. your laugh was music to his ears and his cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. he braced his legs to straddle you, so you couldn’t escape his unrelenting hands. you were wheezing, trying to toss and turn away from him.

tyler suddenly stopped and as you were trying to catch your breath, his lips met yours in a soft, but quick kiss. your eyes shot open and you gently pushed him off of you. tyler sighed, opening his mouth to apologize, but you cut him off.

“i can’t do this, ty.” the nickname falling from your lips made tyler feel like a child getting scolded for coloring on the walls.

“why not?” his voice was pleading, his eyebrows were pinched, making a cute little wrinkle appear on his forehead. you sighed, bringing your knees to your chest.

“because you’re my boss. you’re the leader of our team. i don’t want to jeopardize our relationship.” you shook your head. your brain was thinking clearly, logically. but your heart, on the other hand, was screaming at the top of its lungs, trying to get you to confess how you feel, how all you’ve ever wanted in life was someone like tyler. someone who makes you feel safe, secure. someone who would push you to live life to the absolute fullest, never letting fear take the wheel.

“we wouldn’t jeopardize it, y/n. i-i like the shit out of you, baby.” he dropped his head onto the bed in slight defeat before looking back up at you. “we can make it work.” his heart was pounding out of his chest, he was begging you to let this happen. he couldn’t face you if you didn’t.

“i-” you sighed, shoving your face into your hands. in and out, you breathed. thinking of every possible outcome that this could bring. “what about all of your other girls? the ones you take up to your room at night and never speak to again? are you gonna do that to me?”

“y/n, i would never to that to you.” he said lowly, taking your hands away from your face. your eyes were slightly watery and red-rimmed. his heart broke at the sight and vowed in his mind to never be the one to make you look like this again.

“how do i know that? you’re tyler owens. tornado wrangler, and known lady killer. how can i be sure that you won’t leave me for someone better?” you asked. you were honest in your questions, voicing every doubt you had, though there were only a few.

“there is no one better. there is no one that knows me better than you, y/n. no one who makes me laugh more, no one who makes me smile more, no one who can ground me like you, even in the face of a disaster.” he climbed to your side, taking your face in his hands to make you look at him. a slight tear fell down your cheek and tyler thumbed it away. you sighed, looking down while shaking your head.

“what if this isn’t a good idea?” you asked, your voice small and full of trepidation. he scoffed and pulled you closer, practically sitting in his lap now.

“i haven’t had an idea this good in a long time. you can vouch for that. most of the choices in my life aren’t very smart, but this one?” he tilted his head to meet your gaze. “i’ve had to build up so much courage and strength to even hint that i wanted this. i was scared.”

“you? scared?” you scoffed. “what’s all that talk about riding your fears then?”

“i guess i felt it… just took me a while to realize if i didn’t chase it, it’d slip from my fingers.” he kissed the top of your head and you leaned up to capture his lips. it was slow, gentle, telling him everything he needed to know about how you felt. you wanted this.

“you know, you took my breath away when i first met the team.” you said against his lips, and he groaned, leaning his forehead onto yours.

“all these months we’ve wasted, we could’ve had each other on the first day. i thought my legs were gonna give out when we picked you up at the airport. you were the most beautiful thing i had ever laid eyes on, baby.” his words made your heart ache, no one had ever said anything so sweet to you before and you knew were in good hands.

“no day with you is wasted.” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him down to kiss you. you swiped your tongue on his bottom lip, begging to explore him. he didn’t even think before opening his mouth wider and intertwining his tongue with yours, massaging all around. he groaned into the kiss like this is all he’s ever wanted, which is true. his hands found your waist and pulled you under him. one of his knees were between your legs and the other was braces beside your right leg. he brought his knee up higher, allowing you to grind down on the soft fabric of his sweatpants. your mind was racing again, trying to find the right time to tell tyler. as if he could sense your thoughts, he pulled back slightly, panting.

“what’s wrong, baby?” he hand came up to caress your cheek and you leaned into his touch before hiding into his forearm. “what is it?”

“i’ve- i’ve never…" you trailed off with a frustrated huff. tyler didn’t catch your drift, looking at you with confusion, but also patience and admiration. “i’ve never done this before, ty.”

“oh,” he replied, and you sighed into his skin. “we can wait.”

“what?” you looked back at him, your brows furrowed slightly.

“if you want to wait, that’s okay. we don’t need to rush.” he said gently.

you thought for a moment. you trusted tyler with every bone and fiber of your being. there was no one else you thought would be more careful and gentle than him.

“can you teach me?” you looked at him with hopeful eyes and tyler had to hold back from bucking into you at your innocent expression. so cute, so sweet.

“yes, baby.” he sounded so sincere, proudly honoring the fact that he would be the first you trusted enough to guide you through this. “as much as i love how you look in my shirt, can i take it off?”

you nodded, but he tsked with a shake of his head.

“gonna need your words, sweetheart.”

“yes.” you breathed out, your body tingling in arousal and slight anxiety.

“relax.” he said into your ear before kissing your cheek. his fingers grazed your sides where his shirt had rode up on you, he slowly slid it up your body and over your head, tossing it onto the motel room floor. “i got you, okay?”

“okay.” you nodded.

“you’re breathtaking.” he whispered, leaning back to take you in. the valley between your breasts was beckoning him to kiss the skin, to mark his way all the way down the length of your body and all the way back up. “never seen anything so pretty.”

you blushed at his words, covering your face with your hands, but tyler whined and brought them back down.

“don’t hide from me, darlin.” he toyed with the hem of your panties. a simple cotton pair that had lace trim at the top, he looked up at you for approval before sliding them down your legs and into the pocket of his sweats. his body shivered at the sight of your perfect center, glistening in arousal. he brought his index finger up to gather some of the slick and spread it around your core, unabashedly licking the rest off his digit.

you moaned as he kissed your clit, swollen and pleading for attention. tyler cooed as you writhed underneath him. “gotta be still, honey.”

“can’t.” you breathed out, feeling his breath hovering right over you was torture. tyler laid his forearm over your belly, a firm pressure to keep you from moving. his mouth was all over you, sucking your clit, kissing the inside of your thighs. you were a whining, moaning mess. as you leaned up a bit to watch him, you caught him rocking his hips into the mattress. a filthy, heavenly sight that had you falling back with a cry of pleasure. he was getting himself off on eating you out and you couldn’t take it anymore. “ty, i’m close.”

“hold it, darlin’.” he ordered, prodding his fingers against your hole. “gotta get you ready for my cock, doll.”

you could’ve sworn you saw stars in your vision. the stretch was beautifully painful and your hands white-knuckled the sheets at the sensation. tyler was still working your clit and it took every ounce of strength you had not to come. he slowly let you get used to the feeling then added a second finger and you hissed, trying to pull back. “she’s a tight little thing,” tyler looked up at you. “not sure if i’ll fit in there.”

you gasped as he started to rut his digits into you, scissoring and stretching your walls to get you better fit for taking his cock.

“ty,” you breathed his name, already working up to your orgasm again. you were drunk off of his touch. it only got harder to hold off your climax as tyler brought your legs to sit over his shoulders, completely drowning himself in your slick. his eyes were closed, looking like the face of a man who hadn’t eaten in days. with a few more thrusts of his fingers and his lips working wonders on your clit, your walls clenched around him and your back arched off the bed. tyler groaned into you as you came, bringing you impossibly closer to his face. he worked you through your orgasm, licking up your slick and making he sure he got every last bit, almost too precious to waste.

“you taste like fucking candy.” he muttered, crawling up your body to plant a messy kiss to your lips. you could taste yourself on his lips and you swiped your tongue over his bottom lip before indulging in him. everything about tyler, you loved. you loved how the stubble of his cheeks felt against your chin and cheeks. you loved the way you could feel his cock against your tummy in his sweatpants.

“take them off.” you said against his lips, woozy from your orgasm and only driven by pure lust. your heels pushed back on the hem of his sweats and tyler laughed at your impatience.

he made a show of undressing. teasingly climbing off your body and tugging the material down his legs before stepping out of them. your mouth watered at the sight of him through his boxers, looking painfully hard. he smirked as he watched how your face dropped when he finally slipped off his underwear. you recovered quickly, sitting up on your elbows to beckon him to you.

he leaned down, kissing your ankles and dragging his tongue all the way to your belly before pressing a kiss there too, he made his way all the way to the valley of your breasts. his lips and tongue sucking marks onto your skin and his hands caressing your breasts.

“you’re such a tease.” you whined collapsing back onto the pillow in frustration. tyler laughed, laying his head down on your chest.

“i’m just enjoying this.” you raked your hands through his sandy blonde hair, relishing in the way he gazed so deeply at you. “need to cherish this.”

“if you don’t fuck me in the next two seconds i’ll call boone to come do it.” you said it with a straight face, fighting the sides of your mouth to not quirk up.

“don’t say that ever again.” he rumbled seriously, his big hands spreading your legs wider for him. “this is mine.”

“prove it.” you challenged. your dominance wavered as ty let the tip of his cock gather your arousal, hitting your clit as he rocked against you. he bent down to kiss you, trying to distract you from the stretch as he slowly pushed into your heat. “oh, dear god.”

“you got it, baby.” he pushed back the hair on your forehead, kissing your cheek sweetly. your hands found solace in his hair again, pulling at the root when he bottomed out. tyler groaned at the pain, already holding back from his own peak. “you feel so good.”

“y-you can move.” you encouraged, panting as if you were running a marathon. tyler slowly pulled out and pushed in, cherishing the sweet little sounds you let out before rocking into your hips faster.

the sounds of your wetness, the joint moans and groans coming from both of you, skin hitting skin, it all had your head feeling dizzy. you were so high on the moment. the adrenaline was coursing through your veins, you wished this could happen every night after a day of chasing.

“you’re doing so good, angel.” tyler’s voice broke you out of your thoughts and you cupped his cheeks to pull him into a kiss. your legs wrapped around his waist, ankles locking at the small of his back. the new angle forced him even further into you. tyler nipped at your bottom lip, his hips moving to the rhythm of their own song. “i’m getting close.”

“turn me around.” you gasped against his lips. tyler didn’t think twice before pulling out and turning you, hoisting you up so you were on your hands and knees for him. he marveled at the sight, slipping back into you easily. you both moaned at the feeling. ty was hitting your spot with every thrust and you had to muffle your loud noises with the pillow under your head.

“you’re all mine.” he growled into your ear, his hand gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail and pulling you up so your back was flush against his chest. his left hand reached around your body to circle your clit and you had to fight the urge to collapse back onto the bed. your bodies had a slight sheen of sweat to them and the room started to feel stuffy and hot. “say it.”

“i’m yours.” you mumbled.

“look at you, cock drunk.” he teased, your walls were clenching him with every thrust and he was losing his pacing. you felt so good, better than he imagined. “you wanna ride me?”

you didn’t have to say anything, you felt him pull out and suddenly you were on his lap, rubbing his cock through your folds, your head thrown back in bliss. tyler could come right then. to know he was the one making you feel like this while looking like that. you looked like an angel had just fell down from heaven and landed in his lap. you lined him up with your entrance, the two of you watching as his cock disappeared inside of you. you started to bouncing on your feet, the spongy spot inside of you getting abused with every movement you made. your knees were buckling from the pleasure and tyler caught on, matching his thrusts with your movements. his hand was rubbing up and down your back, the intimacy of it all made your heart ache.

“i love you.” your lips spewed the words faster than you could think. tyler flipped the two of you back over, kissing your lips before leaning back. his rough hands, calloused from work, dragged up your thighs, to your calves bringing them up to rest on his shoulders, he hugged your legs so that his face was all cute and smushed between them. his hips never wavered and you were so, so close to your peak.

“i’ve always loved you.” you came just as soon as the words left his lips and he was right behind you. his cock twitched as he emptied everything he had inside of you, your legs fell off his shoulders and he collapsed onto you.

the next few minutes were spent catching your breath, fingers tracing skin, and sweet kisses.

“i’ll be right back.” tyler whispered against your lips, getting up and going into the bathroom. you cuddled against the duvet and watched him in awe. he came back with a wet rag, and he carefully spread your legs to clean up the mess you two had made. you hissed at the overstimulation and he kissed the inside of your thigh in apology. he threw the rag into the bathroom without even looking to see where it went and cuddled back in bed with you.

“i meant what i said.” you said quietly, you cheek pressed into his warm chest. “i love you, ty.”

“i meant it, too. ever since i first saw you, i knew it.” tyler’s fingers traced the skin of your back, drawing unknown shapes. “i’ve always loved you.”

“how in the hell are we gonna explain this to the team”? you shook your head against him. you could only imagine the looks on their faces when the two of you walk out of your room in the morning. the once best friends turned to lovers overnight.

“i’m pretty sure they all know.” he laughed under his breath. “i overheard boone and lily making a bet about when we would get together.”

“that’s what they were talking about?” your head shot up in shock and tyler smiled at the expression on your face. “well, lily knew i had a crush on you, like, months ago.”

“yeah?” he asked. “i told boone about mine, too.”

“i wonder who won the bet.” you giggled into his chest.

the room fell into a comfortable silence, you and tyler just enjoying each others presence before sleep finally took over you. tyler fell asleep soon after, your bodies intertwined and hands laced together.

the morning after, you and tyler got a text from boone about a huge cell forming a few miles from where you were. scrambling to get ready, the both of you walked out of the motel room to greet the team who all looked at each other with knowing smiles.

“don’t say anything.” you scowled at the team, who all shrugged like they didn’t know what happened. tyler smiled, his arm wrapping around you and slipping his hand into the back pocket of your jeans.

“sorry about the room thing, y/n.” boone apologized to you, but your brows furrowed.

“how did you know about that? you were asleep.” boone smiled and took a few steps back.

“i might’ve slipped the manager fifty dollars to tell you there weren’t any rooms so that you and ty would hookup.” he said sheepishly, his feet turned to be ready to run at any time. lily shot up from her seat on the tailgate of the truck.

“what?!” she shrieked. “you cheated, asshole!”

“you owe me some money, lil.” boone stuck his tongue out, but sprinted away as lily started running after him.

“welp,” tyler watched as his team went into full defense mood, trying to get each member on either boone’s side of logic or lily’s. “think the tornado will wait on them to stop fighting?”

“fat chance.” you leaned against his chest, looking up at him. tyler looked down and his heart melted at the sight of you. finally his girl is in his arms. he could swoon. “i think we owe boone a thank you.”

“how long do you think they’ll fight?” he didn’t even look over the bickering friends. his eyes were solely focused on you. “can i sneak you back into the room for a few minutes?”

you thought for a moment, watching boone and lily cuss each other like siblings before looking up at tyler. “yes sir.”

the two of you ran off, back to solace of the room, tornados to be wrangled, but you couldn’t care less. if you feel it, chase it.

[sincerelyneo]

hiii can you repost hello angel? as a jaemin girl it was one of my favorite fics everrrr i read it everyday fr😭❤️

hey angel | n.jm

“i come alive when i hear your voice, it’s a beautiful sound”

💿now playing: hey angel by one direction

❯ summary: You're Jaemin's best friend - so of course he loves to call you up late at night and hear your voice. He's definitely not calling because the sound of your voice turns him on - yeah definitely not that.

❯ pairings: jaemin x fem!reader

❯ genre: friends to lovers, smut, fluff.

❯ words: 3.7k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, phone sex, dirty talk, masturbation, slight possessiveness?, begging, praise, heavy use of nicknames, reader uses she/her pronouns, just pure filth tbh, jaemin has a voice kink??

It was late and you were already in bed, snuggled deep and cozy in the sea of your blankets, when your best friend Jaemin called. He’s your closest friend and the person you were more than a little bit in love with — but you’d never risk telling him for fear of it ruining your friendship.

So even though it was late, and you were sleepy, you answered his call. To be fair, he’d answered plenty of your late-night phone calls over the years.

“Hey angel,” Jaemin greets in an eager tone.

You can hear the alcohol in his voice — that and Jaemin only ever used that nickname for you when he’d been drinking. Still, it never fails to send warmth curling through your heart. It felt like it was his way of wrapping you up in his strong arms whilst he wasn’t with you. 

“Annngelll,” your best friend continues in singsong, making you giggle softly. 

Jaemin’s voice sounds rough and gravelly, like he’d been shouting over a crowded bar all night. Which wasn't a surprise since it was his friend Jeno’s birthday tonight. And you knew your charming and extroverted best friend would never pass up the chance of a good time. 

Before you could respond to his greetings, Jaemin’s tone suddenly turned serious. “I missed you tonight.”

“Na Jaemin,” you try to match his quick change of mood, attempting a serious tone. But it was a losing battle as you tried to fight against the smile threatening to let loose at his statement. “You’re drunk—I bet you barely noticed I wasn’t there tonight.”

He grumbles and you hear fabric rustle like he was flopping back on his bed. You can’t help but imagine what he currently looked like: his body probably sprawled out on top of his comforter, the strands of his hair falling into his face as his head propped up on his pillows. He probably had one hand behind his head, his bicep bulging while his other hand held the phone to his ear.

You know it’s wrong, but your mind wonders if he was still in his clothes from the night or if he’d stripped down—knowing the fact that your best friend liked to sleep in his boxers.

But you were also familiar with intoxicated Jaemin, he likely hadn’t changed out of his clothes yet, too drunk, and tired to care. Still, that didn’t stop you from thinking about your best friend laying in his bed shirtless while he talked to you. 

“I may have had a couple drinks,” he admits grudgingly. “But of course, I missed my angel. I swear—cross my heart and hope to die—I was a good boy tonight,” he says with enough conviction that you couldn’t help but giggle.

“You’re silly, Jaem.” There’s a warmth in your voice, and you have no hope of wiping the smile from your face even if you tried. 

Pulling the phone away from your ear to check the time, you felt bad and ask, “Why are you calling?”

A long, loud sigh came through the phone from your best friend. “I wanted to hear your voice,” he explains after a silent moment.

It was a cute sentiment, making you feel warm all over, and you wished you could talk to him longer. “Jaem,” you start, gentling your voice. “It’s late and you know I have to get up early. So, if that’s all, I’m going to hang up.”

“But I can’t sleep,” he whines, and you could hear the pout in his voice. Without even seeing his face, you knew he was deploying his puppy dog eyes. “Just talk to me for a few minutes, angel, please?”

“Fine,” you say with another sigh, folding instantly at the thought of imagining his gentle expression asking you. He’d learned long ago it was a sure way to make you give in. You’d fallen sucker to Jaemin’s big brown eyes, and he knew exactly how to use them. 

Resigning yourself to being tired at work the next day, you settled deeper into your pillows. Your voice gentle as you got comfortable. “But you can’t hold it against me if I fall asleep,” you warn.

“Deal.” His smugness at getting you to agree so easily was loud and clear through the phone even if you couldn’t see his self-satisfied smile. “How was your day, angel?” he asks as his bed sheets rustled again and you presumed he was settling in too.

Tired, but always happy to talk to your best friend, you told him about your day and complained about why you had to get up early the next morning. Your voice turns softer and sweeter as you get more and more tired. Jaemin’s does the same, getting even deeper and more husky as he told you about his day. Eventually, there was a lull in the conversation, and you were about to tell him good night when he said something that surprised you enough to drag you away from the edge of sleep.

“Have I ever told you how hard your sleepy little voice makes me?” he asks, making a sound like he was biting back a groan. “I love calling you before you fall asleep, but I always gotta rub one out after.”

“Jaemin,” you say, voice going for stern, but not quite hitting the mark since it was still laced with sleepiness. “That is not true.”

“It is!” he insists, sounding more awake by the minute—and you were right there with him. “I’m hard right now.” He makes a soft sound, like a grunt.

Before you could stop yourself, you imagined him— still sprawled out on his bed — but this time he had a bulge in his jeans. In your mind’s eye, Jaemin grips his hard length through his jeans, stroking himself roughly. The thought makes you gasp softly, and you clench your thighs together against a sudden pulse in your core.

Jaemin must’ve heard the sound because you could hear the grin in his voice when he speaks again. “Tell me, angel, are you wearing one of my shirts tonight?” he asks gruffly.

You swallow heavily, trying to buy yourself some time. It felt like crossing a line to admit that you were wearing one of his shirts, but when Jaemim didn’t take the question back, you realise you’d had to answer. 

“Yeah,” you whisper.

“Which one?” His voice is rough now, like sandpaper, but oh so eager.

“One of your varsity shirts from college—the one that says ‘Jaemin’ on the back,” you answer, unable to lie to your best friend even if you were a little shy to admit you still sleep in his shirts. You knew you didn’t need to be, since he clearly knew you slept in them. 

“I love it when you wear my shirts, angel,” Jaemin confesses. His tone now warm, like he was grinning and happy. It makes the last of your shyness disappear to hear him say that. 

“It lets everyone know you’re mine.”

“I’m not yours, Jaemin,” you protest half-heartedly. 

You weren’t, even if you desperately wanted to be his in every sense of the word.

“You’re my best friend,” he says, like there was no argument you could come up with to change his mind. “My best girl—that makes you mine.”

“Jaemin,” you exhale. 

You knew he was just talking about friendship, but you wished his words meant something different. You wished he felt the same way for you as you did for him.

“Fuck, say my name like that again,” he begs in a gruff voice. “Makin’ me so damn hard.”

You feel the blush rise to your cheeks and you go flustered, unsure what to do as Jaemin easily crosses lines you’d avoided delicately for years. But you didn’t want him to stop. The sound of his voice saying those things had wetness pooling between your thighs. So, you gave him what he wanted.

“Jaemin,” you repeat his name, voice breathier with your arousal, and he let out a happy hum.

“That’s my girl,” he says followed by a groan that is so low and husky, sending tingles racing through your entire body. “Fuck, I’m so hard,” he moans, a slight strain in his voice. “Do you mind, angel?”

It took a moment for your hazy mind to figure out what he was asking. Then, another to process that he was asking if you were okay with him stroking himself while he was on the phone with you. Your breath caught from a sudden surge of excitement. The voice that typically stops you from crossing the line with your best friend was conveniently quiet and all that was left was your need for him.

“I-I don’t mind, Jaem,” you answer softly, trying not to sound too eager.

The sound of him pulling down the zipper of his jeans was loud enough that you could hear it through the phone — and that alone sent a shiver down your spine. It was nothing, though, in comparison to the rough groan he makes as he grips his cock in his hand. 

“Fuck,” he curses.

You could feel yourself getting slicker from the sounds of him stroking himself. Distantly, you knew you were crossing a line by listening to him, by getting off on hearing your best friend pleasure himself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Instead, you found yourself holding your breath as you strained to hear him.

“What else are you wearing besides my shirt, angel?” his voice octaves lower than normal. The sound of it makes you squirm, your thighs clenching together harder. 

Biting your lip, you debated for a second whether to answer truthfully. You didn’t want to lie to your best friend and, you rationalise, you’d already crossed the line, hadn’t you?

“Just panties,” you whisper. 

You trail your hand down your chest over his shirt to toy with the hem where it had ridden up around your hips. Your fingers were dangerously close to slipping under the waistband your best friend had become oh so curious about.

“Just panties? Fucking hell, angel. What colour are they, huh?” He questions in his deep, rough voice.

You swallow thickly, wondering if he could hear how hot and bothered he was making you. You wonder if he knew you were so close to playing with yourself by the way your breath was getting faster. But you couldn’t stop yourself from answering. 

“They’re pink,” you say softly. 

“Angel,” Jaemin groans, thickened with need. “Fuck, I wanna bury my head between your thighs and kiss every single inch of you until you’re writhing under me, begging me to tear those panties off you.”

It was your turn to groan, and when you say, “Jaemin,” on a sharp exhale, you sound even more needy than anything else. Your fingers brushing over the hem of your panties, teasing yourself with whether or not you should dip beneath the fabric and touch yourself.

“You like that idea, angel?” He asks, a grin in his voice. “Like thinking about my mouth so close to your pussy.”

At his words, you couldn’t help but picture the scene. His head navigating between your legs, his strong arms wrapped around your thighs, holding you open so he could follow through on his promise. It was all too easy to imagine the way he’d look at you, mischief sparkling in his brown eyes as he slowly, teasingly kissed your mound over your panties, tongue sneaking out to lick the pink material. The picture he painted had you squirming in your bed. 

You couldn’t take it anymore, your fingers finally sliding into your panties, finding your pussy wet and swollen and needy.

When you don’t respond except with a sharp gasp, Jaemin asks, “Are you touching yourself?” 

His voice turns seductive. “You have to tell me if you are, angel—best friends tell each other this sort of thing. I have to know when you’re fingering your needy little cunt.”

“Oh god, Jaemin,” you cry softly, your breaths coming harsher. But you don’t for a second consider hiding what you were doing from your best friend. “Yes, I’m t-touching myself.”

“Good girl,” he praises, making warm pride curl through your chest as more wetness flooded your core. “Touch that pretty pussy for me.”

“H-how would you know it’s pretty?” you ask on a gasp, forcing the question out between hitching breaths as you slowly trace a finger around your dripping hole, teasing yourself and making you wetter.

“Because everything about you is pretty, angel. The way you laugh at me when I’m drunk, the way you bite your lip when you’re unsure, the way you look at me… fuck, you’re so fucking pretty.”

Your finger pauses and you suck in a deep breath, thoughts running chaotically. Jaemin had never complimented you like this before, and you couldn’t help yourself from asking a question you desperately wanted an answer to. 

“How do I look at you, Jaemin?” you ask in a small voice, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in the expression he’d just mentioned.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know,” he teases. “You look up at me, giving me the dirtiest fuck me eyes possible. Fluttering your pretty eyelashes like you’re begging me to bend you over every surface and stuff you full of my cock.” 

“Jaemin,” you cry out in a little sob, emotions and arousal swirling through your body completely overwhelming you for a moment. 

“I know angel,” Jaemin’s voice is soothing and deep. “I know you give those eyes to me.” 

He paused for a moment and all you could hear was his deep, steady breathing. 

“Because you’re mine, yeah?” There was a thread of uncertainty in his question, and it made your heart thump in response.

“Yeah,” you agree without hesitation, without protest. “I’m yours, Jaemin.” 

“Good,” he declares. Without giving you time to fully process what had just transpired between the two of you, Jaemin continues speaking, his voice diving an octave lower and growing rough. “Now slide one of your fingers into that pretty pussy of yours.” 

It was so easy to listen to him, to give yourself over to his command. Letting his deep voice reverberate in your head, heat curling all through your body down to the tips of your toes, as you press one of your fingers into your wet hole. A soft moan tumbles from your lips and you knew Jaemin heard it from the way he sucks in a breath.

“That’s it, angel, being so good for me,” his breaths coming harsher down the phone line. “Tell me how it feels.”

You sink into the sensations and the sound of his voice, letting your eyes fall closed. You feel like you’re floating in the soft sea of your bed as you pull your finger out and thrust it back inside your pussy. 

“Feels so good,” you answer in another moan.

Jaemin responds with a groan of his own. “Bet you’re fucking tight,” he says, breath heavy and raw. “Bet you’re clenching down on your little finger, aren’t you?”

Like your body was trained to respond to his voice, your pussy clenches around your finger at his words and you let out a hitching moan. But Jaemin doesn’t stop talking. His deep, hoarse voice fills your ears and makes you hotter and hotter.

“Fuck, angel, keep going—keep fingering that wet pussy for me while I stroke my dick to those sweet little sounds you make,” he urges, as he bit back his groans. You moan and gasp in response to his filthy words. “Fuckin’ hell, I wish it was your warm cunt gripping me right now, clenching hard around my thick cock while I fuck you.”

“Please,” you beg, not sure what exactly you were asking for but knowing you didn’t want him to stop talking. You add another finger to your dripping hole, crying out at the slight stretch.

“Would you like that, angel?” he asks, managing to fill his tone with teasing even as his heavy breaths gave away how turned on, he was. “Tell me—fucking tell me,” he prompts when you don’t respond, too busy fucking yourself with your fingers to the sound of his voice.

A whine forces itself out of your lungs, the simple command sounding so filthy from your best friend’s mouth. “Yes, Jaem,” you whimper an answer between your gasping breaths. “Want you to fuck me.”

“Fuck—fuck,” he groans almost painful. “The next time I see you, that pussy is mine. Gonna bury my face between your thighs and make you come on my tongue,” he promises. “Then I’m gonna shove my cock deep in your cunt and fuck you stupid.”

“Jaemin,” you sob out his name, fucking yourself harder as you picture your best friend hovering over you while you lay in his bed. You imagine how his body would start fucking you into the mattress, his cock buried deep in your pussy, your arms and legs wrapped around him — anything to be close to him. 

Through the phone, you hear the soft sound of Jaemin fucking himself into his own fist, the strain in his voice every time he spoke. 

Imagining your best friend sprawled on his bed, jeans open just enough for him to have his cock out, gripping and pumping his length roughly with his eyes squeezed shut. Thinking about him like that makes you whimper.

“Fuck—I can’t stop thinking about how pretty you’d look while I fuck you, angel,” he murmurs. “Wanna see my cock stretch you while I pound into you, wanna see your pretty lips swollen from my kisses as you moan for me, wanna see your eyes go all hazy as you get stupid on my cock.”

As he speaks, your thumb circles your clit and you moan loudly into the phone. Your best friend’s filthy words make your pussy clench down hard on your fingers as you get closer and closer to your release. 

“Don’t stop, Jaem, please don’t stop,” you beg breathlessly. Jaemin lets loose a deep groan in response to your desperate plea, the sound making your thighs clamp down hard around your hand. You wish your legs were wrapped around his waist instead of your wrist.

“Fuck your pussy, angel, nice and hard.”

You cry out as you force a third finger, making yourself stretch to take the intrusion. 

“That’s it, that’s my good girl, fuck yourself stupid to the sound of my voice,” he encourages. 

Even with how far gone you are, you can hear the cocky grin in his tone, but your body just flushes and clenches tight in response. Desperately, you fuck yourself harder, hips rocking into your hand, mind drowning in lust as you gasp and moan into the phone. Knowing he can hear you only urges you not to hold back. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jaemin groans loudly, his breath coming in sharp pants. “Keep making those cute little sounds for me, my cock is aching for you—fuck!” The cockiness in his tone fades into desperation. 

“Jaemin,” his name tumbles past your lips. 

You’d said your best friend’s name countless times over the years, but never like this—never with your fingers buried deep in your cunt wishing it was his thick cock.

“Jaem, I need…” you trail off, not even knowing what you need, just knowing he was the only one who could give it to you.

“You need my cock, don’t you?” You can hear the way his grin curls at the edges of his mouth. “Need my cock just like I need your pussy.” He bit off the end of his sentence with a groan. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come,” he moans. “Gonna come so hard to your sweet little moans, angel.”

You gasp and your back arches off your bed when you rub your thumb roughly over your clit. You moan so shamelessly for your best friend. “So close.” 

“When I fuck you,” he starts, cutting himself off abruptly as he groans again. “When I fuck you, angel, I’m gonna make you come so hard on my cock,” he promises, voice rough and deep you swear you can feel the pleasure from the sound shooting from your ear directly to your clit. “And while you’re screaming my name and coming all over my dick, I’m gonna bury myself in that sweet pussy and pump you full of my load—you want my come, angel?”

“Yes, Jaemin, please come inside me, fill me up,” you babble, so close to your own release you barely know what you’re saying. 

“That’s it. That’s my slutty little angel, begging for my come.” He groans, stroking himself faster. “Come for me, come for your best friend,” he commands, pausing to moan lowly. “Tell me who you belong to.” 

“I’m yours, Jaemin, all yours,” you cry out. With one more deep thrust of your fingers, the heel of your hand grinding against your clit, you come apart. 

You moan loudly as waves of pleasure surged through you, consuming you. Your limbs shaking as you wrench every ounce of pleasure from your release, fucking yourself through it as you breathe fast and harsh.

“That’s my good girl. Coming so sweetly for me, so perfect.” He grunts. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! You made me come so fucking hard, angel,” he mumbles, a little breathless.

Since you hadn’t fully regained control over your body, you just hummed in delight. You were still riding the aftershocks of your orgasm, your lips turned in a smile while you listened to Jaemin catching his breath.

“Like hearing me come apart for you?” He teases the question. “Wish you were here to clean up the mess you made.” 

“Jaem,” you try to put some reproach into your voice but fail miserably as you giggle. 

“Don’t worry, you can help the next time I see you.”

The line goes quiet for a moment, the two of you gathering yourselves together. “You’re still my best girl, right?” he finally asks, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Yeah,” you whisper, “I’m your girl.���

“That’s good to hear,” he murmurs, sighing contentedly, and you can tell he was starting to drift off. “Because all of me is yours, angel. And I plan on showing you that when I’m back.”

[azrielslittleslut]

Requesting Azriel x easily anxious and agitated Valkyrie, who constantly zones out? Fluff/smut/angst, you pick(just don’t break my marshmallow heart at the end😭)

"Little Valkyrie"

Azriel x F!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, Az is kind of an asshole, reader is a lil bit of an asshole back, language

Word Count: 2.9k

a/n: i would do anything to see az in a cowboy hat. i don't ride horses, but i'd ride him like one.

Enjoy!

The sound of the sword dropping onto the training room floor brought you back to the present. The clang of the steel hitting the ground echoed for a few moments, your breath coming in ragged pants as you tried to collect yourself.

Azriel groaned, his eyes rolling slightly as he looked at the dropped weapon. "That's the second time this has happened today," he said, dropping his own sword to his side. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

You flinched, your cheeks heating as the weight of your own failure crashed down on you. "I don't know," you whispered, fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes. "I didn't sleep well last night. I guess I'm just tired."

"Tired" was definitely not the word to use, but it was the only excuse you could come up with. As a Valkyrie, you should be able to push through exhaustion, and Azriel knew that. You should be able to hold your sword high, no matter how sore or tired you are.

But you had never been like the other Valkyries. You were slower and slightly weaker, always full of anxiety about fighting or training. You could hold your own, of course, but it required more effort on your part. You had spent hours and hours in this very training ring, going through countless exercises to become a part of their ranks.

Now that you thought about it, you honestly didn't know why you had been so insistent on becoming one. You were happier when your nose was buried in a book than when you had a dagger in your hand. You were a dreamer. Your mind was always filled with imaginary scenarios that had absolutely nothing to do with fighting.

You would never admit how often you zoned out to anyone, especially not Azriel. Just earlier, he had been walking you through different sword techniques, his deep voice full of careful instruction as he showed you.

The only problem was, you didn't remember any of it. You had been too busy imagining what Azriel would look like wearing a silly hat, like a cowboy hat. It had taken all of your self-control to keep from giggling at the thought of such a broody male wearing something so ridiculous.

Yes, the zoning out was a massive problem, but you couldn't help it. It was how you dealt with your anxiety since childhood, and unfortunately for you and everyone else around, that little habit had continued on into adulthood.

Plus, it was the only way to ease your frazzled nerves around him. You weren't scared of him, like so many others, but your nervousness had other roots.

He was so beautiful, all tall, dark, and handsome. Your skin tingled every time he touched you to adjust your hold on a weapon. You felt your breath catch in your throat when he looked at you with those beautiful eyes.

You were so pathetic, pining after a male like Azriel, who was so unemotionally available it bordered on hilarious.

"Hello?" Azriel's annoyed voice brought you out of your thoughts. Damn it. You had done it again. "If you aren't going to pay attention to me, I'm not going to waste any more of my time. I have other things to do."

You watched in silence as Azriel walked over to the weapon storage area, and you felt anger boil inside of your veins as you watched him meticulously shed his weapons.

That was the downside to all of this- when you zone out, and others notice, you always get so agitated that you lose control of the words that come out of your mouth.

"What? You can't miss another appointment with those shadows of yours to do nothing but brood?" you snapped, your hands on your hips as you pinned him to the spot with your eyes.

Azriel turned on his heels, hazel eyes blazing with fury. "I would rather spend my time brooding than with a wanna-be Valkyrie who can't even focus."

The harshness of his words hung in the air, cutting through your heart like a knife. You had always been fond of Azriel, and recently you had even started to develop a small crush on him. But just like that, your hopes of anything more than a forced friendship with him were deflated like a popped balloon.

"I'm- I'm sorry," you stammered, unable to fight the tears that now spilled down your cheeks. "I think I should go now. I'll find someone else to train me."

You didn't bother looking back at him as you rushed from the training ring, your tears falling freely now. As you ran into the House, you ignored the faint feeling of a tickle on your skin, as if one of his shadows was begging you to stay.

---

"Why are you wound so tight, brother?" Cassian teased, his sword clashing against Azriel's with easy precision. Az felt the clang of metal on metal ring through his forearms, a welcome pain to distract him from his frazzled thoughts.

"Nothing," Azriel grumbled as he readjusted his fighting stance. He and Cassian had been going at it for hours now, the sounds of their labored breathing mixing with the clashing of their swords.

Azriel could deny it all he wanted, but there was a good reason as to why he was so on edge. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get the look of pain on your face after he had insulted you. The tears that had poured from your beautiful eyes had cut through him, as if someone had been stabbing him repeatedly with Truth-Teller.

He had wanted to run after you, to do or say whatever was required to get you to smile at him again. He would beg on his knees to hear your laughter once more, but now he had gone off and ruined it.

Azriel was scum.

Cassian barely side-stepped Azriel's next strike, his wings snapping behind him as the blade came dangerously close to cutting them. "Mother's tits, Az," Cassian hissed. "If you wanted to play dirty, all you had to do was tell me."

Cassian was already crouching down, a position that he only used on the battlefield when he was preparing to face off with an enemy. But Azriel held up his hands, dropping the sword onto the ground. He tried not to think of how he had chastised you for doing the same thing.

"I yield," he murmured, his shadows wrapping around his wings and shoulders, preparing to winnow him away if he so wished it.

Cass stood, his eyes blinking rapidly. "You? Yielding?" He chuckled lowly. He looked over to the Illyrian mountains in the distance, his gaze scanning along the frozen peaks. "Yep. Illyria appears to still be frozen, so the world isn't ending. What the fuck is up with you?"

Azriel glowered at his brother. "Nothing, Cassian. Just tired." He really didn't want to explain this whole situation, and especially not to someone as nosy as Cassian.

"Yeah. Nothing. Okay," Cassian murmured, padding over to the water station at the corner of the ring.

Azriel silently followed, his mind wandering to you. He prayed you would forgive him for his stupidity. You were still new to training, even though you had proven time and time again that you belonged here. You fought as good as anyone else, sometimes even rivaling Nesta in your hand-to-hand combat skills.

I would rather spend my time brooding than with a wanna-be Valkyrie who can't even focus.

The memory of his words caused him to flinch, which didn't go unnoticed by Cassian. He slammed down his water glass, the liquid sloshing onto the ground. "Alright," he snapped. "Cut the shit. Something is going on, and you aren't leaving this training ring until you tell me what it is."

Azriel's shadows were already swarming him, their soft whispers filling his ears as the started to take him away-

"And if you think those shadows can hide you from me, think again." Cassian's gaze softened for a moment, his hand coming to rest on Az's shoulder. "Tell me, brother. What's troubling you?"

Az blew out a breath, knowing that Cass wouldn't let it rest. "It's the new Valkyrie," he murmured, his arms folding around himself. "I was training her earlier, and I said some things I shouldn't have."

That was the understatement of the year, but Azriel kept the details of what he said to himself.

Cassian raised his brows as he leaned against the wall. "Ah. I see," he said, a grin forming on his face. "The one who can't seem to keep her wits about her when she's around you?"

Az blinked. "What do you mean?" Of course, he had noticed your tendency to zone out quite literally in the middle of training. He had watched in silent horror as that glazed-over look had formed in your eyes while Gwyn was holding a dagger next to your throat, the blade so close that it had nicked your skin.

He couldn't believe how someone could lack so much self-awareness, especially someone as kind and beautiful as you.

Wait. Kind and beautiful? Where had those thoughts come from? Azriel pondered that for a moment, slowly coming to the realization that perhaps his anger at your lack of focus had nothing to do with him wasting his time training someone who didn't care.

Maybe, just maybe, it was more than that. But he was too afraid to confront that right now.

Cassian clapped him on the shoulder. "For a spymaster, you seem to lack basic observation skills," he said with a chuckle. "I'll be sure to let Rhys know that you're losing your touch."

If Azriel had hackles, they would be raised right now.

"Hey," Cassian murmured, his voice soft. "I didn't mean to piss you off. You should apologize to her if what you said was that bad. She seems like a nice female, so I'm sure that she can find it in her heart to forgive you."

Azriel crossed his arms. He had never been good with apologies, so the thought of this was his own form of torture.

"Besides," Cassian continued on, draining the rest of his water, "maybe she'll just zone out and not pay attention to anything you say."

---

The stars were bright in the night sky, providing the only source of illumination in the otherwise dark training ring.

You fought to keep your breathing steady as you pummeled the punching back, your knuckles barking in protest as you put all of your strength behind each strike.

One, two. One, two. One, two.

You spoke through the movements in your mind like a mantra, your thoughts more focused than usual. You didn't have a problem with zoning out when you were alone, so you had decided that it was best to train like this.

Did the others think you were just a wanna-be Valkyrie? Did they think that you didn't care about being here?

Your punches became harder, more and more force behind them as your anger bubbled to the surface, your vision going red with rage-

"You're bending your wrist." The deep male voice echoed through the training ring, soft in nature but still carrying that condescending tone that had been haunting your waking thoughts for the last two days.

You did nothing to adjust yourself, proceeding to hit the bag the same way you had been all night. You chose to ignore the pain that had started to form in your wrist, just like you were going to ignore the male who had ruined your peaceful rage-punching.

Azriel sighed. "If you keep doing that, you're going to break something." His footsteps grew closer until they were right behind you. "Will you let me show you?"

You turned to face him then, not bothering to hide the rage plastered onto your features. "What? Finally decided that you wanted to help the poor, wanna-be Valkyrie? I am honored to be graced with the presence of such a powerful, siphoned-out warrior."

Azriel flinched, his wings twitching, his shadows swirling. "I did not mean to cause any offense," he whispered. "I just don't want to see you get hurt."

You huffed. "Like you give a fuck. It would probably make you very happy to see me get my ass handed to me. You probably don't even want me here, so I'll just leave."

You turned, but Azriel's scarred hand stopped you. This close, you could smell his lovely scent of night-chilled mist and cedar, and you fought the urge to close your eyes and lean into it. He was so warm and strong, and you cursed the desire coursing through your veins.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice soft. "For what I said at training. I don't think you're a wanna-be Valkyrie. You are a Valkyrie. You've proven that a hundred times over."

You stared at him, mouth wide open. You had never heard him say so many words together, much less say more than one sentence at a time. In fact, the only time he really ever spoke to you was when he was offering words of instruction.

"I don't expect you to forgive me," Azriel continued on, his head dropping slightly. "Not right now, at least. I just wanted you to know that I didn't mean anything I said."

"Why did you say them, then?" you asked through gritted teeth. "Have you never heard of the saying 'If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all'?"

Despite everything, a grin formed on his full lips. "I've never heard of that before," he admitted, a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks, still bright against his tan skin. "Perhaps I should put it into practice."

You rolled your eyes. "You still didn't answer my question."

"I said it because-" he broke off, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. "I said it because I was afraid. Afraid of how often you zone out in the middle of training, of how you completely lose focus when your life is on the line." He took a step forward, so close now that you could feel his warmth radiating toward you.

"Do you know the horrible things that could happen to you if you zone out like that in battle?" His voice was low as he spoke, so low that you wondered if you could suddenly hear his shadows now. "Do you understand what that would do to me? Knowing that I have trained you as well as I could, but you didn't make it because you started daydreaming?"

Your heart stuttered inside your chest as he spoke, your eyes scanning across his face. You hadn't realized how obvious your zoning out had been, always hoping that nobody had noticed.

You had been so fucking wrong.

"Why do you do it?" he demanded, though his voice was still heartbreakingly soft. There was a sheen in his eyes as he spoke, and your chest tightened at the blatant display of emotions on his usual guarded face. "Why can't you focus, little Valkyrie?"

Little Valkyrie. The nicknamed warmed your heart, sending heat through your chilled bones.

You didn't want to admit the truth to him, but how could you deny it when he was standing before you, pleading with you?

"I zone out because of you," you said quietly, praying to the Mother that, for once, his Fae hearing would fail.

Azriel blinked, a choked laugh escaping him. "Because of me?" he asked, placing his scarred hands on his chest. "How do I make you nervous? Do I make you afraid? Fuck, I never meant to scare you-"

"Azriel." Your voice cut through his babbling like a knife. "You don't scare me. Quite the opposite actually." You tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, looking to the ground as you spoke. "I get nervous around you because I like you. I get nervous because one of the strongest Illyrian warriors is training me, and I feel so small in comparison. It doesn't help that you're kind and funny when you're not insulting me."

Azriel stared at you in disbelief, his hazel eyes full of something like surprise and... awe. "You like me?" he asked, a boyish smile gracing his face. It looked so ridiculous on him, this dark warrior, but you decided you would do whatever you could to keep seeing it.

"I do," you responded with a nod. "I have for a while."

Azriel furrowed his brows, his shadows reaching out to play with a strand of your hair. "And you thought zoning out in the middle of our training would make me like you back?"

"It got your attention, didn't it?" you said.

"It worked," he responded, that stupid smile still on his face.

You let out a breath, relief washing through you. "I'm sorry for scaring you. I know it can have devastating consequences, and I would never zone out in the middle of a real battle."

Azriel chuckled. "Unless I'm there, apparently."

There was the arrogant asshole that you knew and loved.

You slapped playfully on the shoulder. "Train with me tonight," you said, nodding your head over to the swords hanging on the wall. "Let me show you how badly I can kick your ass when I don't zone out."

You knew you would never be able to accomplish such a feat, especially not with him. But you liked this side of him. The one that you could tease and taunt.

Az grabbed a sword and threw it to you. You caught it with one hand, raising it up as he grabbed a matching one. He stood before you, his wings tucked in, his legs braced apart.

He raised a finger, curling it slightly in the air. "Let's see what you've got, little Valkyrie."

general tag list: @quiet-loser @andreperez11 @lilah-asteria

@anarchiii @inkedinshadows @book-obsessed124

@scorpioriesling @olive-main @scarsandallaz

[babyleostuff]

˚ ༘♡ 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐝𝐬 | performance unit

― for hip hop unit version: click here

jun

he’s a lot more worried about your safety than he lets on. jun starts to panic the second he spots the massive crowd, and immediately puts his arm around your shoulders to pull you into his side. he doesn’t want you to think that he’s being controlling or that he doesn’t want you to walk around on your own - it’s just that he’s a bit anxious to let you wander off on your own without anyone to protect you. it’s just the amount of people that he’s afraid of, what the situation might turn into in the worst case scenario. so, it’s safe to say that for the most of the night you’d be tucked safely into jun’s side.

hoshi

my first thought was “he’d lose you in the crowd in a second” but… i don’t think we give him enough credit, he can be very responsible and aware of his surroundings when needed. yes, soonyoung is a silly little goofball and an ipad kid, but i’m 100% sure he wouldn't let go of you if you were surrounded by a large number of people. the thought of you - lost and all alone amongst the big crowd - that makes him sick to his stomach and he can’t even imagine how scared he’d be, so soonyoung would rather keep you by his side than risk losing you. his grip on you is tight and secure, but not too overbearing, and he asks every other minute if you’re okay or if you want to leave. 

the8

he’s not too overbearing in how he looks after you when you’re in big crowds, which is perfect since you can have fun without being all over each other. of course the only way he’s fully relaxed and not on constant alert is when you’re right next to him, preferably with his arm wrapped around your waist, so he knows that you’re truly there by his side, sound and safe. but, if you want to say hi to someone or go to the toilet, hao won’t follow you or make a big deal about you going away, he’ll just ask you to send him texts that you’re ok every few minutes, so he doesn’t stay too worried. 

dino

there’s nothing that could make him let go of you. nothing. maybe chan is being a little bit paranoid, but the thought of losing you in a crowd of people where everything could go wrong makes his stomach lurch in all of the worst ways possible. your hand is always in his, no matter what - if you want to pee he’ll be there with you, it’s either both of you or no one. he’s all wrapped around you, holding you securely in his grip, because that’s the only way he can relax a bit and have fun at whatever gathering you’re at. he has to know that you’re safe. besides, he's a lil clingy cuddle bug so he uses it as an excuse to give you hugs all night long.

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[sserpente]

By Chance

Synopsis: The very first time you meet Eddie the Freak Munson, it’s because you found his bracelet on the floor and decided to wear it, and he claims to have lost one just like that.

The second time you meet, he is absolutely flabbergasted because you are the only one outside of Hellfire who wants him to sign their yearbook.

The third time you meet, he’s feeding you drugs through a sloppy kiss before making you see stars.

The fourth time you meet, he is all but taken aback that you greet him with a boyfriend-and-girlfriend-kiss in plain sight of some other former Hawkins High students, thinking that you, just like all the other girls, would want nothing to do with him after one hot and high night together…

A/N: Just a couple of ideas that had been ghosting around in my head on digital paper. Enjoy!

Words: 4880 Warnings: drug use, alcohol, smut, RC has parents in this one, drunk driving

A/N: Both Eddie and RC are over the age of 21 in my stories.

The first time you met Eddie Munson, it was in the school cafeteria. You were new in town, damned to finish your high school years at a later age due to unforeseen circumstances in your past. Let’s just say it involved the military, an illegal weapon deal, you and your family being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and a witness protection programme. Not exactly the funniest years of your life but here you were now, significantly older than all the other students trying to keep up with everything you had missed when one fateful day, you found a leather chain bracelet on the floor in the hallway near the boys’ bathrooms.

You figured it looked cool, so, instead of throwing it away, you decided to wear it. Little did you know it belonged to Eddie The Freak Munson himself who, as it turned out, was absolutely gutted he’d lost it. He ended up in line to get his lunch right behind you that day and of course, he instantly noticed the edgy accessory on you when you reached for a cup of chocolate pudding.

“Cool bracelet.”

You’d be lying if you said that the other students hadn’t “warned” you about him. But being old enough to legally buy alcohol, you were long past the silly idea of popularity in high school, knowing that once you were out of that building for good, no one—literally no one—cared anymore. Respectively, you turned around to smile at him.

“Thank you.”

“I had one like that too. Lost it recently,” he added a little distraught, underlining his words by throwing a single peanut in his mouth. Your eyes widened.

“Oh my god, what? I found that on the floor in the hallway the other day! It must be yours!”

And just like that, Eddie blinked and then frowned at you as if you’d just sliced the tyres of his van. “Why are you wearing it?” he asked—carefully, if not suspiciously.

“I just thought it looked cool. Here, take it back,” you announced, unclasping it from your wrist to hand it to him. “I’m glad it seems you didn’t lose it after all.”

“Yeah, uh… it was a gift from my uncle, so… it means a lot to me.”

You could have imagined it but you were pretty sure that you received something like an electrical shock when your hands touched.

“That’s sweet. Good thing I didn’t throw it away. Well, enjoy the rest of your day, Eddie. I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you around too.”

And that you did. Every day. You did have a few classes together, after all, and sooner or later you realised that you kept stealing glances at him. He was fucking handsome—a classic metalhead with an affinity for fantasy novels and Dungeons & Dragons, so you soon found out, and of course, a renowned bad boy selling drugs right under the noses of all the teachers which, strangely enough… did not hinder him from finally graduating that year. It turned out that 1987 was his year and to call what he pulled off at the graduation ceremony a show would have been an understatement and you certainly couldn’t stop clapping and cheering along with his friends when he did flip the principal the bird and acted like he’d just won the gold medal instead of his diploma. That man was a chaotic rockstar in the making, you just knew it. In fact, you were more excited for him than you were for yourself even though you had barely spoken after the bracelet exchange.

Unfortunately, apart from his beloved Hellfire club as well as two freshmen called Dustin and Mike, everyone else in the school just seemed to be happy to finally be rid of him—Miss O’Donnells the most, you figured.

So when it was time to get those last few signatures in for your yearbooks and students rushed from person to person with markers in hand, Eddie was left out entirely.

You guessed that this was why nothing prepared him for the very moment you approached him and two of his friends—Jeff and Gareth, you believed—and held your yearbook out to him.

“Hey, Eddie. Care to sign my yearbook for me?”

It took him a second to process your words, you could tell. “Me? You want me to sign your yearbook?”

“Of course.” And you meant it, if anything to have an excuse to speak to him again.

Eddie took your yearbook from you with slight hesitation, flipped the front page open and then, using the red ballpoint pen he must have been using for his friends’ yearbooks, scribbled something in yours.

You couldn’t wait to read what he’d written when he handed it back to you. Another moment of silence followed.

“Do you… want me to sign yours as well?”

“Uh… yeah… if you want.” Jeff and Gareth were a lot more suspicious than Eddie was, perhaps thinking you’d write something nasty in his. In fact, he didn’t even pay attention to what you were writing in it. Instead, and you could practically feel his curious brown gaze on you, he wouldn’t stop staring like you were some sort of hallucination.

The truth was, he probably didn’t quite know what to make of you. You’d never been part of a specific clique ever since your arrival and hence socialised with whoever circumstances put you in close proximity with. They’d all seen you with Jason and the others a few times—and given how the basketball team treated Hellfire, it was not short of a miracle they all radiated a pinch of hostility toward you.

Eddie almost flinched when you shut his yearbook shut and gave it back to him. “Thanks.”

“Thanks to you as well. After your stunt on stage, I have no doubt that you’re gonna be the next Ozzy Osbourne. I wish you and your band all the best, I’m sure you’ll rock it.”

Jeff and Gareth blinked. Incredulously so. Eddie on the other hand gave you a sheepish grin. “Thanks,” he said again.

You figured there was nothing else going to come out of his mouth—and you hoped that your phone number that you had scribbled into his yearbook and which he still hadn’t noticed yet was going to give him a broad hint.

That’s why your heart almost leaped out of your chest when you suddenly heard him calling after you. “We were going to, uh… celebrate together just outside of the town centre tonight. You know… snacks, dru- I mean drinks, music… care to come?”

It was only when you turned back around that you noticed Jeff and Gareth looking downright shocked at Eddie’s invitation. The head of the Hellfire Club appeared genuine though. And with those sweet puppy eyes, how could you turn him down? You simply could not, even if you had wanted to.

“Oh, I always fancy some snacks and dru- I mean drinks.” You grinned at him. “Should I bring anything?”

“If you want. Don’t have to though. Do you have a car or… should I come pick you up?”

“If it’s not too much trouble? Here, let me give you my address.” Using your pen from before, you snatched one of the napkins from one of the tables (almost wiping an empty champagne glass from the surface in the process) to scribble your address on it.

You decided to make brownies for the occasion. They were spiced with rum to add a little bit of flavour and dressed in your edgiest outfit before Eddie came to pick you up. To say you were excited was an understatement, for despite being generally friendly with everyone, you hadn’t exactly made a ton of friends in Hawkins yet.

Funnily enough, however, you were not even in the least surprised that Eddie drove straight to the infamous Reefer Rick house near Lover’s Lake. The entirety of the Hellfire Club, excluding the two freshmen, were there, along with a couple of other friends of Rick’s you didn’t know. It wasn’t a proper party per se—although they did have music but given Eddie’s taste and looks, it was metal blasting through the speakers for the most part.

“You’re insane, Munson. Who is she again?” Rick hissed into Eddie’s hair, grabbing his upper arm as you walked past and you took in the dimly lit boathouse. The atmosphere here was great. Foldable tables held a large selection of snacks, with two massive pizzas from Surfer Boy’s Pizza taking up the majority of the space. Another table was filled to the brim with so much alcohol you feared it would all topple over if someone attempted to remove one of the glass bottles. The fishing boat swaying in the water unsurprisingly took up most of the space in the boat house. Only for the occasion it had been repurposed to a cosy-looking lounging area and covered entirely with several layers of blankets and pillows.

The most prominent feature of this small get-together, however, was the smell of weed—and you were certain that those rolled little cigarettes were the most harmless drug Rick had on offer tonight.

“You’re telling me you invited the girl who found your bracelet a few months ago to a party at my house? What if she calls the cops on us?”

“I don’t think she will.”

“I brought brownies,” you offered, holding them out to him with a smile. Both Rick and Eddie blushed when they realised you had been able to follow their conversation over the loud guitar riffs.

“Oh. Thanks. Welcome to the party then.” And that was that. You set the homemade dessert on the table and had Eddie pour you your first drink of the evening.

“You know, it took me a hot minute to figure out you’ve written your phone number in my yearbook,” Eddie admitted after a few drinks and some casual chatting.

“Oh.” You chuckled, following up with a wink. “Well, I figured I’d take my shot.” Eddie had skipped prom, of course, not buying into the whole idea of wearing a suit and awkwardly asking someone out only to dance to shitty music and drink non-alcoholic punch in the school’s stinky sports hall.

It was a shame really—you would have loved to have seen him in a suit. Besides, you figured that the real reason Eddie hadn’t been to prom was because he’d been unhopeful any girl would have wanted to show up there with the town freak who was regularly accused of satanic rituals.

Well, you would have. But you ended up going with your classmates from chemistry class who had all sworn they didn’t need a man to have a good time. Which was also true.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

Eddie raised his eyebrows slightly, offering you a sweet smile.

“Why did you invite me? We’ve barely spoken all year and Rick is not wrong.”

“Listen, sweetheart… no one—and I mean no one outside of Hellfire has ever asked me to sign their yearbook for them. It might not sound like a big deal to you but you decided to come over to me despite what everyone else must have told you about me.” Sweetheart. Now that was a reason for your heart to skip a beat. The rising alcohol level in your body did the rest, of course, but you were far from drunk yet.

As of right now, Eddie’s hair was even messier than usual from headbanging to the latest Metallica hit that had come on after Rick had yelled “To our new graduates, Jeff, Gareth and Eddie!”. He was still a little out of breath. You were resting on the boat now, watching him giggle at a filthy joke Rick had just pulled and it was then you decided there and then that tonight was going to be the night. All good things started with a kiss, right?

Eddie must have noticed you staring at his lips. He took another draw from the cigarette he was smoking and then held it out to you with a mischievous grin on his face. “Want a draw?”

“Sure. Bring it on.”

Before you could close your mouth around it though, Eddie pulled away again, making you crawl closer to him in a confused manner. “Wait a second. You’ve… smoked before, right?”

“Duh,” you gave back. “Yes, I have. Never done anything stronger than weed though.”

“Okay, sweetheart. Just making sure you don’t throw up all over the boat.” Eddie didn’t hand the cigarette over. Instead, he brought it to your lips with his fingers, watching intently as you took a draw. The taste was just as awful as you remembered but it got the job done quickly. You relaxed, feeling more daring after only minutes.

“Hey, Eddie?” You stared at him matter-of-factly. It clearly confused him. You took another draw when he offered the weed to you yet again but this time inching even closer to him. His lips parted when you didn’t move away from him. “Can I kiss you?”

The metalhead grinned like a kid that got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. He didn’t respond. Instead, he lifted his ringed hand to your face to stroke your cheek and then, his mouth was on yours. Eddie kissed you softly and patiently, seemingly enjoying this first taste as much as you did. After you parted, you both smiled and as the night proceeded, you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other anymore.

Eddie insisted on taking you to his place instead of staying at Rick’s, and after some initial protest that he too had had alcohol and shouldn’t be behind the wheel, you agreed to slowly drive back to his place. Fortunately for the both of you, you both made it out of this risky mission alive and you soon plopped yourself down on Eddie’s bed.

His room was a complete and utter mess. Clothes and cassettes along with handwritten song lyrics on crumbled paper were scattered everywhere, along with the odd guitar pick and lone sock. The walls were plastered with posters of metal bands as well as some maps and other drawings he must have made for his D&D campaigns.

His uncle wasn’t home—Eddie claimed he was pulling night shifts and that you had the house all to yourself. Which was certainly a good thing. You weren’t exactly quiet in bed and you had no doubt that you’d make use of those condoms sitting on his nightstand tonight.

Eddie grinned, turning his back to you for a moment. Then, he got rid of his battle jacket and leather jacket almost at the same time, kicked off his shoes and joined you on the bed wearing only his ripped trousers and a washed-out band shirt.

He was quick to take the initiative now that you had made the first step. Eddie leaned down, his hair tickling your face, and lowered his lips to yours to kiss you again, without any unwanted eyes watching you both this time.

He tasted like the weed you’d been smoking and the fatty pizza you’d all been munching on. His kisses were consuming, you had learned this much quickly. You sighed when his tongue slipped between your lips, teasing yours gently all the while his right hand went on an exploration quest, repeatedly stroking over your side.

Joyful anticipation of what would happen next flooded you like a hurricane, your body all of a sudden annoyingly aware of the fact there were way too many layers separating you both still.

It was then you felt the small pill on Eddie’s tongue that he passed on to you, gently biting your lower lip before breaking the kiss. You closed your mouth with wide eyes, returning his eager grin as he hovered above you.

“It’s ketamine,” he said, still grinning, “Rick got a new batch, fancy pill form. Nothing like anything else you’ll ever experience.”

You swallowed it down. “Shit. How long does it take to kick in?”

“With how strong that dose is I’d say about fifteen minutes. Thought you’d better have your first trip safely without accidentally drowning in the boat house at Rick’s.”

You hummed.

But what was the point of waiting around for it to kick in? You wanted Eddie. Now, and regardless of the drugs. Biting your lower lip, you pulled him back down to you and crashed your lips against his, kissing him ferociously.

“You’re wearing too much,” you announced out of breath when you had to pull away for oxygen.

“I could say the same thing about you, sweetheart.”

“Hmm… we should do something about that, then.”

You both giggled like children. Eddie scrambled out of bed to get rid of his clothes, only leaving his plaid boxers on all the while you peeled yourself out of your shirt and your trousers.

“Do you know how to take off a bra?” you asked with a cheeky grin.

“You wound me, sweetheart.”

“C’me here and prove it then.”

He was on top of you again before you could blink, hands wandering behind your back as you arched it for him so he could take it off for you. He did in fact have no trouble whatsoever getting that last piece of clothing between your naked skin out of the way. When he tossed it out of bed, it landed straight on the neck of his acoustic guitar in the corner. Eddie chuckled but he soon gasped for air quietly when his brown eyes fell on your bare breasts, nipples hardening from both the sudden temperature change and your growing arousal—and perhaps the drugs, too. You could feel them kicking in now. It was like you were walking on clouds. Like everything you did was wrapped in cotton candy and each and every one of your senses was heightened.

Eddie seemed to feel the same way even though surely this wasn’t his first time on ketamine. In a haze, he cupped your breasts with his hands, kneading them gently all the while you tugged at the hem of his boxers, not failing to notice the growing bulge in them. Eddie’s erection sprung free when you pulled them down as far as you could in your current position, taking in his length. Damn. You didn’t have a lot of dicks to compare him to but you certainly liked what you saw.

Reluctantly, the metalhead let go of your breasts to reach for a condom. You moaned at the loss of them at the very same moment you started feeling like you were floating. Shit.

“I am craving ice cream right now.”

“You are?”

“Yes! I could eat three. No, six! You know what? Let’s go and have ice cream tomorrow!”

“At the mall?”

“At the mall!” you repeated, almost yelling the words. You blinked. Fuck. You were so high. Eddie grinned when he realised. You wriggled out of your knickers and tossed them out of bed with your foot. Utterly naked before him now, you watched him with your lower lip sucked between your teeth as he rolled the thin layer of latex onto his length and then positioned himself between your legs. You spread them even further for him, inviting him in.

“We can always stop, you know that, right?”

“Eddie…” You pulled him down to you, shutting him up with a sloppy kiss. The drug was really kicking in now and making out with him was like a whole new experience altogether. You couldn’t wait to feel him inside you. You needed him. Now.

You doubted he was still a virgin when he guided his member into you with skilled movements, slowly pushing in inch by inch without finishing instantly. You wouldn’t have minded to take a break and then try again but right now, the ketamine in your body was making you impatient for lust. Impatient for him.

“Move, Eddie, move…” you whispered, throwing your head back in the process. The metalhead obeyed. Slowly at first, he began to thrust up into you, each and every single movement eager and on the verge of madness.

You were an entanglement of sweaty limbs within a matter of minutes. Panting and kissing, you didn’t know where Eddie ended and where you started. You moved together rhythmically, your legs wrapped around his hips as he kept rutting into you.

It was the very first time you felt your arousal climbing higher and higher, that familiar knot of pleasure in your core tightening without any additional stimulation whatsoever. Surely, that was because of the drugs. It must have been because of the drugs. Eddie hit every single pleasure spot hidden deep inside of you but normally, even that was not enough for you to slip over the edge. Not so today. You could already feel your orgasm approaching, your toes curling and your cunt tightening around him.

Eddie groaned. “You going to cum, sweetheart?”

The sound that escaped your lips didn’t even remotely resemble a yes. So you nodded with your lower lip between your teeth, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You shattered underneath him like a piece of glass, breaking into a million pieces scattering across his room.

Moaning his name, you dug your nails into his naked back and pulled him even closer to you. Eddie didn’t stop. On the contrary, he sped up. His strokes were erratic now, uncontrolled. Eager for his own orgasm, as you pulsed around him times and times again, you felt him tense up and then, find his release.

After a few more thrusts he stilled, burying himself as deep inside of you as he possibly could and shot his load into the condom. You wished you could have felt it, wished you could have felt him coating your still lazily contracting walls instead. Next time. There was always next time.

And fuck… that was quite possibly the best sex you’d ever had.

When you woke up the next morning, memories of last night came flooding back to you like a tsunami. Your head rested on Eddie’s chest. He’d draped his blanket over the both of you after he’d gotten rid of the condom—or simply threw it on the floor to be precise—and then cuddled up with you to keep you warm, to keep you safe while this trip lasted. You were almost a little disappointed you had sobered up now but the aftermath lingered like the taste of a particularly sweet strawberry on your tongue.

You opened your eyes, inhaling Eddie’s scent. Cigarettes, alcohol, leather and a little bit of sweat… it made for an oddly attractive mix. Unfortunately, however, your blood ran cold as soon as you spotted the time on the watch on Eddie’s wrist.

“Eddie! Wake up! Eddie, come on!”

He grumbled—and you wanted to kiss him senseless for being so cute and sleepy—but your parents must have been worried sick by now. Besides, you felt a little nauseous. Certainly the after-effects of the ketamine. You were lucky you weren’t hugging the toilet at the moment.

“What? You okay, sweetheart?”

“I’m okay but I need to get home.”

“Huh?” Finally, he cracked an eye open. Another moment passed for him to take the time to wake up. You chuckled.

“I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus. Ugh, and I feel gross.” You needed a shower—and a change of clothes. “I need to get home and freshen up, and my parents are probably wondering where I am. Let’s meet at Starcourt? Around three?”

You wanted nothing more than to lazily wander into the kitchen and have a coffee and breakfast with him before doing what you did last night all over again—sober this time. But by now, his uncle was probably home too. You’d have to do that as soon as you got your own place. Then you could be fucking all day long and… you swallowed.

“Uh, yeah… sure. Three.”

“Alright.” You beamed at him. “I’ll see you there then.” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before you climbed out of bed naked and gathered your clothes. Eddie grinned when you blew him one final kiss before you left the room fully dressed.

You had to admit it got a little awkward when you ended up walking straight past Wayne Munson who was at the kitchen table with a coffee and the morning paper in hand. There was absolutely no doubt the man new exactly what Eddie and you had done last night.

“Uh… morning, Mr. Munson.”

“Morning?” You didn’t need to explain. Well, Eddie did but not you, not right now. So you only gave him an apologetic smile and hurried out the door because three o’clock couldn’t come soon enough.

You couldn’t stop grinning. Not when you apologised to your parents for worrying them and not calling, not when you took a shower, not even when you got some sustenance in to chase away the residue of the drugs and the alcohol in your body.

At around two thirty, you put on some make-up and then practically darted to the bus station to make it to Starcourt in time. Eddie was waiting for you already when you arrived. He leaned against a pillar near Scoops Ahoy wearing his usual attire, with one leg propped against it. His face lit up when he spotted you—only to darken only a fraction of a second later when he saw Jason and his laundry basket crew approach, instantly alert.

You paid them no mind. So you only nodded at Jason in greeting and then hurried toward Eddie, wrapping your arms around him to give him a long and passionate kiss.

“Hey…” he breathed out when you broke apart. Eddie blinked at you, incredulous at what you’d just done—almost as if you hadn’t had sex on a high last night.

“Hey. What’s… wrong? Are you alright?”

“N-nothing. I’m fine, sweetheart.” He glanced at Jason who kept on staring at you as if you’d just sacrificed a sheep to a demon. You shrugged your shoulders, interlaced Eddie’s fingers with yours and dragged him inside the ice cream shop.

“What do you want? I think chocolate chip mint is the best one but cherry sounds nice too. Pick whatever you like, it’s on me.”

Eddie quirked an eyebrow at you. “No, no, sweetheart. This is a date. I’m paying.”

“No you’re not. You can pay next time. You know how much the stuff you gave me…” You cleared your throat and lowered your voice. “…you gave me last night normally costs. I’m paying.”

Eddie smirked at you—you just wanted to kiss him all over again. “Cherry and chocolate chip mint, how about that?”

“I like the way you think.” So you ordered and then made yourself comfortable in one of the booths to munch on your ice cream. Eddie glanced behind him and then, all of a sudden, he had that unbelieving expression on his face yet again.

“Okay, what’s up? Something’s up. Did I say something? Did something happen?”

“I just… didn’t expect you to want to be in public with me.”

“I’m sorry, you what?” It was you who had incredulousness written all over your face now. Your heart dropped to your feet. “What… do you mean?”

“The girls I hooked up with before, from school… they didn’t want anything to do with me after they’d gotten laid by the freak,” he admitted. “Granted, there weren’t that many but still.” Your lips parted. Shit. That’s why he was acting all surprised. You had just snogged him in front of the entire former basketball team, after all.

Of course that raised the question of why he would invite you to that party in the first place if he’d suspected that you’d only wanted some free drugs and to be able to claim you’d fucked the freak to find out if he was just that in the sheets as well. But there was always hope. Hope that it could be different this time even if it was all subconscious. You suppressed a sigh.

“Why the hell wouldn’t I want that?” you asked so you wouldn’t pause for too long.

“Don’t know. I’m just used to it, okay?” he said with a fake smile, scooping up some of his ice cream.

Oh. And now he was overwhelmed and flattered and touched and confused and… and he didn’t know how to act. You scooted closer to him in the booth, leaning against his shoulder. “I couldn’t give a shit about what the other people think, Eddie. I was in a rush this morning because I didn’t tell my parents I’d probably spend the whole night out. And I said I felt gross because I hadn’t showered and because the remnants of the drugs made me feel all icky. Not because I regret what we did. Actually… I can’t wait to do it again.”

Eddie’s face lit up. He grinned. “With or without drugs?”

“Both.”

In other words, that cheeky metalhead was your boyfriend now. And you’d be damned if you didn’t tell the world that you were his girlfriend.

[neckromantics]

Has anyone thought about how good Astarion would be at playing dead? Imagine the untapped potential?? The opportunities to just absolutely fuck with people?

No one would even need to expend a spell slot on feign death or anything. He could just lie down, hold his breath, and wait for a target to walk by and wonder "wait, what's this dead guy doing here?" and then WHAM! DAGGER TO YOUR ARTERY, LOSER.

The way you'd have to do your best to keep it together when he's lying there in the most dramatic of fashions. I just know if you ask this man to play dead (and he's in the rare mood to say yes) he is going to COMMIT. Limbs unnaturally askew like a ragdoll. Vacant staring (how does he get his pupils to dilate like that?). Maybe a bit of tongue hanging out if the mood strikes. It'd be a little eerie to see him like that if it also wasn't so damn funny.

The last time he went along with your silly little plans, it almost went terribly wrong.

In a rather strange turn of events, a small group of children find him before the target can. You take a chance and stay in your hiding place, silently willing these poor kids to go back to wherever they came from before your vampire loses his patience and does something rash...

The way one of the children immediately grabs the nearest stick and starts poking at Astarion. Vigorously. They're not even gentle, either. It's almost like they're hoping candy will spill out somewhere if they're aggressive enough. You can only watch as this goes on for a good minute or two (i mean you could have stopped them in hindsight, but part of you really wanted to see what would happen if you didn't.) before he finally snaps.

The vampire sits up quick as a wink, lips pulled back to expose his bloodied fangs (that absolute jerk bit the inside of his cheek till it bled just to appear more frightening), hands more like claws as he feigns swiping at one of their ankles. The snarl he lets out is so devious it makes the hairs on your arm stand on end. The kids all turn tail, wails high-pitched to an earsplitting degree as they trip over each other in their scramble to get away.

The smug grin on Astarion's handsome face should not be as endearing as it is as he watches them leave. After a moment, he straightens out his clothes a bit and readjusts his position on the ground, then proceeds to get right back to playing the part of a perfect, pretty corpse.

Not before he chucks that stick the kids were using to torment him in the direction of your stifled laughter as a clear "fuck you" for not helping him, though.

[eggcats]

I know everyone's already said this, but Vox is so funny because he's quite literally the most competent and professional Vee.

EXCEPT for when it comes to Alastor.

Like, HE’S the one who had to calm down Valentino and keep him from making a scene. (Especially because, yes, it looks bad if they can't control their employees, but - even in hell - it looks even worse if their top pornstar has to be dragged to the studio vs walking in on his own).

Velvette doesn't give a shit about professionalism. Like, Vox wanted to talk to Carmine about Angelic Security, and you think THAT'S how he wanted Velvette to treat her to try to guarantee them working together? Absolutely not.

(Also, Vox being able to immediately turn the tide of the paparazzi harassing him about news that JUST broke? Granted, he did use his hypnosis, but it wouldn't have worked if he didn't immediately come up with something on the fly. He knows how to keep his company running AND looking good, as WELL as being innovative enough to create new things with little to no notice.)

The other two Vees? I would not trust either of them to be the public speaker or the face of the company the way Vox is. Do you think either Velvette or Valentino would have been able to come up with a solution to the moved-up Extermination date in a way that pleased the general public?

But then. Some old timey radio deer shows back up and he immediately breaks down and can't plan for shit.

He sings a silly little song and immediately gets owned to the point he loses power to the entire city.

He plans to break in using a dude they KNOW is incompetent, and his only response when it (obviously) fails is to fucking gamer anon hate with "hahaha kys loser!" and the second he is confronted with Alastor’s face he can't do anything. He doesn't even try a single other thing after this point, cutting his loses entirely.

And THEN he avoids the meeting sending Velvette instead, potentially fucking up their ability to collaborate because he can't handle seeing Alastor.

This bisexual wreck of a television doesn't fucking leave his gamer dungeon once since Alastor is back, doing everything he can to avoid seeing him in real life.

Like, imagine what dealing with Vox is like from Alastor's perspective. HE never sees the professionalism or competence - he ONLY ever gets the pathetic mew-mew Vox!

Alastor is constantly being told how competent Vox is with his company and shit, but the second he's in the same room with him Vox is glitching and can't walk in a straight line without running into a wall or something. If I were Alastor, I'd have fun teasing the television too, because, like, what's wrong with him? It's funny!

Like, does Alastor register that this treatment is only for him, or does he think the rest of hell is pathetic enough to not notice or to just accept it? Does Alastor think Vox is like this all the time, and he's using his hypnosis to make everyone else forget about it?

Vox is just such a funny man, he has one weakness and it's just Alastor - and Alastor isn't even doing anything, he's just nearby minding his own goddamn business, lmao.

[theonottsbxtch]

TEACHERS PET PT.3 | CL16

an: did someone say his pov? i apologise in advance for how this ends. also im trying to pump out as much content as i can before i start my real girl job at the start of novemeber

wc: 4.5

warnings: MUCHO infidelity

part one | part two |

Charles gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly as he pulled into the parking garage beneath his apartment building. His mind was racing, filled with images he shouldn’t be indulging in, and yet, he couldn’t seem to push them away. The moment outside her apartment—the way she’d looked at him, the way she’d let him kiss her—had been playing on a loop ever since he’d driven off.

He parked the car and sat there for a moment, staring at the concrete wall in front of him, trying to gather himself. He shouldn't have kissed her. He knew that. But the attraction had been building for weeks, simmering beneath the surface in every glance, every stolen moment, every excuse he found to keep her after class.

He could still feel the heat of her body against his, the softness of her lips, the way she’d kissed him back like she’d wanted it as much as he had. But she had a boyfriend. And he was her professor.

This is wrong.

The thought echoed in his head, but it felt distant, as though it was someone else’s voice whispering it to him. He rubbed his hand over his face, trying to shake the memory of her lips, the warmth of her breath against his neck, but it was no use. Even as he walked up the stairs to his apartment, he could still see her standing there in the streetlight, her chest rising and falling with the same breathless anticipation he’d felt.

He unlocked his door and stepped inside, the silence of his apartment suddenly oppressive. The dim lighting and sleek, modern décor felt cold compared to the heat still pulsing through him. He tossed his keys onto the counter, trying to focus on anything but her, but his mind betrayed him almost immediately.

He imagined her here. Walking around his place, barefoot and wrapped in nothing but one of his shirts, the fabric brushing her thighs. He pictured her wandering to his kitchen, her hair mussed from sleep, a sleepy smile on her lips as she padded toward him. Maybe she'd laugh softly as she caught him staring, her eyes playful, like she knew exactly what kind of power she had over him. And for a minute he felt jealous of her silly little boyfriend who probably got to see that sight often.

Damn it.

He cursed under his breath, running a hand through his hair, trying to push the fantasy away. It was dangerous to let himself think of her like that, but the image wouldn’t leave him. She was so young, so off-limits, and yet, he couldn’t stop himself.

He sank down onto the couch, staring blankly at the dark screen of his TV. The room felt too quiet, too empty, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to shake this feeling alone tonight. He needed a distraction. Something to get her out of his head, even if only for a few hours.

His hand instinctively reached for his phone. He scrolled through his contacts, stopping on a name he hadn’t seen in a while: Olivia. They had a history—nothing serious, but comfortable. She was someone he could call when he needed to forget, when he needed to lose himself in something physical, without the complications of attachment.

His finger hovered over the screen for a moment, hesitating. He shouldn’t call her. He knew that. It wouldn’t solve anything. But right now, it felt like the only way to stop thinking about the one person he shouldn’t be thinking about at all.

He tapped the screen, bringing the phone to his ear. It rang twice before Olivia answered, her voice warm and familiar.

"Well, well," she said with a teasing lilt. "It’s been a while. What’s the occasion?"

"I was thinking about you," he lied, his voice low and smooth, trying to push down the guilt gnawing at him. "Are you free tonight?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then a soft laugh. "You’re lucky I don’t have plans. I’ll be over in twenty."

He hung up, tossing the phone onto the coffee table as he leaned back against the couch, trying to force himself to relax. But as the minutes ticked by, all he could think about was her. The student. The girl who had walked into his office that first day with a shy smile, who now occupied far too much of his thoughts. He could see her face so clearly, her lips parted as he leaned in to kiss her, the way her body had instinctively pressed against his.

His phone buzzed, pulling him from his thoughts. A twisted part of him hoped it was her. It was a message from Olivia: "Almost there."

He stood up, running his hands through his hair as he tried to shake off the images swirling in his head. This wasn’t about her. Tonight was about forgetting. About getting some distance from whatever had ignited between him and his student.

When Olivia knocked on the door, he opened it with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. She stepped inside, giving him a once-over with an approving smirk before leaning in to kiss him. It was familiar, comfortable. But the moment her lips touched his, all he could think about was how different it felt. How wrong it felt.

They moved to the couch, her hands on his chest, her lips trailing down his neck, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. Even as Olivia’s fingers slid beneath the hem of his shirt, he couldn’t stop picturing her.

What would she be like here, in his apartment?

He imagined her standing in his bedroom doorway, her eyes heavy with the same desire he’d seen in them earlier tonight. He pictured the way she’d blush as he undressed her, the way her breath would hitch as his hands found her bare skin. The thought made his pulse quicken, heat pooling low in his stomach.

"Uhm, Charles hello? Are you even here" Olivia’s voice broke through his thoughts, and he blinked, realising he hadn’t responded to her in at least a minute.

"Yeah, sorry," he muttered, but even as he said it, his thoughts drifted back to the wrong person.

Olivia pushed him until the back of his knees his the sofa and she straddled him, shifting on his lap, her hands moving more insistently, but it wasn’t enough. None of this was enough to drown out the fire burning in him for someone else. He kissed Olivia, trying to lose himself in the moment, trying to block out the guilt. But as his lips moved against hers, all he could think about was how much he wished it was someone else.

Her lips. Her skin. Her breath.

No matter what he did, she was there in the back of his mind, haunting him, tempting him. And as Olivia’s hands roamed over his body, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like if they were her hands instead. How she’d gasp at his touch, how her body would respond to him.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to silence the thoughts, but they only grew louder.

Eventually, Olivia pulled back, her brow furrowed as she studied his face. "Okay, what’s going on?" she asked, her voice edged with irritation. "You’re not really here, are you?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I’m sorry," he said, his voice thick with frustration—frustration at himself, at the situation. "It’s just...been a long day."

Olivia huffed, clearly unsatisfied with his answer. She stood, grabbing her jacket from the chair and slinging it over her shoulder. "Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but if you’re not into this tonight, just say so. I didn’t drive all this fucking way for you to act like this"

He stood up, guilt settling heavily in his chest. "It’s not you," he said, trying to smooth things over, but she waved him off.

"Yeah, I know it’s not me," she said sharply. "Whatever’s going on in your head, you need to figure it out."

Without another word, she turned and left, the door closing behind her with a loud slam.

He stood there in the silence of his apartment, the weight of his thoughts crashing back over him like a tidal wave. His mind immediately returned to her—his student. The one person he shouldn’t be thinking about, shouldn’t be wanting.

But he did.

And as he sank back onto the couch, staring at the empty space where Olivia had been, he knew that nothing was going to make this go away.

-

Charles sat behind his desk, trying to focus on the stack of papers in front of him. The morning sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over his office, but he barely noticed. His mind was still a mess from the night before, from thoughts of her. He hadn’t been able to shake the memory of their kiss or the way his body had betrayed him, craving her even as he tried to distance himself. Even calling Olivia hadn’t worked; it had only made everything worse.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back in his chair. It had only been a few hours since he’d been in the office, but she was still there, in the back of his mind, haunting him. Every time he tried to focus on work, her face appeared, her lips parted slightly, her eyes dark and teasing.

He needed to get a grip. This was crossing lines—lines he shouldn’t even be near. She was a student. She had a boyfriend. But the thought of her in his office again made his pulse quicken in a way that was becoming all too familiar.

A soft knock on the door snapped him out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat, straightening in his chair. "Come in."

The door creaked open, and there she was—her. Standing in the doorway with that familiar mix of confidence and shyness that always threw him off balance. She was dressed in a simple blouse and skirt, but somehow, it felt different now. Everything about her felt different now.

"Professor Leclerc," she said, her voice soft as she stepped into the office, closing the door behind her. "I was hoping I could ask for some help with an assignment."

His heart skipped a beat, the way it always did when she was near. He forced himself to remain composed, giving her a nod as he gestured to the chair across from his desk. "Of course. What’s the issue?"

She walked over, moving with a slow, deliberate grace that set his nerves on edge. She sat down, crossing her legs in a way that drew his attention for a brief second before he snapped his eyes back to her face.

"It’s for another module," she said, sliding her notebook onto the desk between them. "Professor Gasly’s class, actually. It’s...similar to what you taught us last term, his is the History of France through Literature, so I thought maybe you could give me some advice."

"Gasly?" Charles raised an eyebrow, trying to keep his voice neutral. "He’s more than capable. Why didn’t you go to him?"

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes flickering up to meet his in a way that made his pulse jump. Then, she leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping just enough to send a ripple of tension through him.

"Because you do it better."

His throat tightened, and for a second, he wasn’t sure if he’d heard her correctly. "Pardon?"

She gave him a soft, almost playful smile. "You teach better."

He swallowed, trying to maintain control, but the way she was looking at him, the way her words lingered in the air—it was impossible to ignore. There was something different about her today. Something deliberate in the way she spoke, the way she held herself. And then, almost as if to confirm his suspicions, he felt it—her foot. It slid up against his calf, just lightly, but enough to send a jolt of awareness through him.

He froze, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes flicked to hers. She was still smiling, that same soft, teasing smile, but now there was something else in her gaze. Something that told him she knew exactly what she was doing.

"Is...is that so?" he managed to say, his voice a little rougher than he intended. He should stop this. He knew he should stop this. But the warmth of her foot against his leg, the subtle pressure of it moving higher—it was making it difficult to think straight.

"Yes," she said, her voice almost a purr now, her eyes never leaving his. "I always seem to understand things better when you explain them."

He shifted in his seat, trying to ignore the way his body was reacting to her touch. His pulse was racing, heat pooling in his stomach as her foot continued its slow, teasing movement up his leg. He should stop her. He should say something, push her away, remind her that this was completely inappropriate. But the words stuck in his throat, and instead, he found himself leaning forward, his hands gripping the edge of his desk as if he needed to hold on to something solid.

"What’s the assignment about?" he asked, his voice tight as he tried to steer the conversation back to safer ground.

She leaned back in her chair, her foot still resting against his leg, but now she seemed to relax, as if she’d gotten the reaction she wanted from him. She reached for her notebook, flipping it open casually as if nothing had just happened.

"It’s about narrative structures," she said, her tone suddenly more professional, though there was still a glint in her eye. "Professor Gasly is focusing on how different forms of storytelling can influence the reader’s emotional response. But his examples are so dry, you know? I thought you might have a better way of explaining it."

He stared at her for a moment, trying to ignore the lingering sensation of her foot against his leg. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat, his skin still buzzing from her touch. But he forced himself to focus on the task at hand, even though every fibre of his being was screaming at him to do something else entirely.

"Well..." He cleared his throat, trying to steady his voice. "Narrative structures are...complex. There’s a lot to unpack. It’s not just about the form, but how it interacts with the content—"

As he spoke, he felt her foot move again, this time trailing up his calf in a way that was both subtle and devastatingly effective. His words faltered for a moment, his hands gripping the desk tighter as he struggled to maintain his composure.

"You seem tense," she said softly, her lips curling into that teasing smile again.

He shot her a sharp look, his mind torn between wanting to stop this and wanting to see where it would go. "This isn’t appropriate," he said, though his voice lacked the firmness he intended.

She tilted her head, her eyes locking with his, and for a moment, the room seemed to shrink around them. "Maybe not," she said, her foot moving higher, "but I don’t think either of us wants to stop."

The tension between them was palpable now, thick and suffocating. He could feel the pull of her, the magnetic attraction that had been building for weeks, and it was taking everything in him not to close the distance between them. But then, a sharp buzz interrupted the moment, and his eyes flicked to her phone, which had lit up on the desk between them.

Her gaze shifted to the screen, and suddenly, her expression changed. The teasing light in her eyes flickered out as she stared at the message.

Logan: Have you seen my laptop charger?

For a moment, neither of them moved. The reality of the situation crashed down on them like cold water, and he could see the guilt flicker across her face, mirroring the same guilt that had been gnawing at him for days.

“I’m going to go, I need to help him.” Even though he had seen the message, she didn’t have to clarify who him was.

She stood up slowly, her notebook tucked under her arm, the teasing smile still playing on her lips. The charged moment between them hadn’t dissipated, even as she turned toward the door, ready to leave his office. Charles sat frozen in his chair, his heart still pounding from the subtle pressure of her foot against his leg, the warmth of her touch lingering on his skin.

This was wrong. He knew it. But as she reached for the door handle, something inside him snapped—something primal, something that had been building between them for weeks, tightening with every stolen glance, every brush of hands, every lingering look.

"Thank you for the help, Professor," she said, her voice soft, almost too casual, like she wasn’t aware of the storm she’d just stirred in him.

He stood up without thinking, his chair scraping against the floor, the sound cutting through the tension. She paused, glancing over her shoulder at him, a question in her eyes.

His pulse roared in his ears as he stepped toward her, his chest tightening with the weight of everything he shouldn’t be doing, everything he’d promised himself he wouldn’t do. But his feet moved on their own, carrying him toward her, the space between them shrinking with every heartbeat.

She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, his hand was on the door, pressing it shut behind her. The suddenness of it made her inhale sharply, her body instinctively turning to face him, her back against the door. They were inches apart now, the air between them thick, heavy with unspoken tension.

"Wait," he said, his voice low, rough, as if it had been dragged from somewhere deep inside him.

She blinked up at him, her breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. Her lips parted as if to respond, but no words came out. Instead, her eyes darted to his, and in that moment, he saw it—the same desire, the same need reflected back at him.

This is wrong, the voice in his head screamed, but his body wasn’t listening. His hand slid to the back of her neck, his fingers curling into the soft strands of her hair, and then, without another thought, he pulled her toward him and kissed her.

The kiss was fierce, desperate—like all the tension, all the forbidden longing between them had finally exploded into something they could no longer control. She gasped against his lips, but instead of pulling away, she pressed into him, her hands gripping the front of his shirt as if she’d been waiting for this moment just as much as he had.

Her lips were soft, warm, moving against his with a hunger that mirrored his own. His other hand found her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them, until he could feel the rapid beat of her heart against his chest.

He kissed her harder, deeper, his mind a blur of want and need. Her hands slid up to his shoulders, her fingers tangling in his hair as she arched into him, her body responding to his in a way that sent a surge of heat through him.

But even in the midst of the kiss, a small voice in the back of his mind screamed at him to stop. This was a line they couldn’t cross—a line they were already crossing. She was his student. He was her professor. And this...this could ruin everything.

But her lips, the way she kissed him back with the same reckless abandon, the way her body fit so perfectly against his—it was intoxicating, and for a moment, he didn’t care about the consequences. He didn’t care about anything except the way she felt in his arms, the way she was clinging to him like she didn’t want to let go.

He pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against hers as they both stood there, gasping for air, their bodies still pressed together. Her eyes were closed, her lips swollen from the kiss, and the sight of her like this—breathless, flushed, in his arms—made his pulse race all over again.

But the moment the reality of what they’d just done hit him, a wave of guilt crashed over him.

This was wrong. So wrong.

He loosened his grip on her waist, his fingers trembling slightly as he stepped back, putting a sliver of space between them. She opened her eyes slowly, looking up at him with a mixture of shock and something else—something that made his heart clench painfully in his chest.

"Professor..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He swallowed hard, trying to steady his racing heart, trying to gather the words he knew he should say. But all he could manage was her name, soft and broken, as if it was a plea. A prayer.

The air between them had shifted completely. The kiss, which had started as a release of tension, was now spiralling into something much more dangerous. Her body was pressed against his, her hands gripping his shirt tightly, pulling him closer, as though she couldn’t get enough of him. His pulse pounded in his ears, drowning out any rational thought.

Charles could barely think past the feel of her lips on his, the heat of her body against his. This was wrong—he knew it with every logical part of his mind—but his control had snapped. Every line he had drawn, every moral boundary he had tried to maintain had been washed away in the wake of her kiss, her touch.

Her fingers tugged at his shirt, pulling it free from where it had been neatly tucked into his trousers. The feel of her hands slipping under the fabric, cool against his heated skin, sent a shudder down his spine. He groaned against her lips, the sound deep and guttural as he kissed her harder, more hungrily.

His own hands began to roam, unable to stop themselves. They found her waist, then slid upwards, brushing over the soft fabric of her blouse. Before he knew it, he was fumbling with the buttons of her shirt, his fingers trembling slightly, fueled by a need that felt like it had been building for far too long.

She made a small, breathy sound when his fingers brushed against her skin, and it only spurred him on. One button, then another. Her shirt was opening, revealing smooth skin, and his mouth was suddenly desperate to taste her, to explore every inch of her that he had only imagined in fleeting, guilty fantasies.

Her hands moved frantically now, pulling his shirt free and sliding up his torso, nails lightly scraping his skin. The sensation sent a shockwave through him, and he kissed her harder, deeper, feeling like he was on the brink of losing himself completely. He should stop. He knew he should stop. But the way she was responding, the way she clung to him, told him she didn’t want to stop either.

Just as he pulled her shirt open further, his lips trailing down her neck, a loud, jarring sound broke through the heated fog of the moment.

The alarm on his phone.

The sharp, persistent beeping pierced through the haze of desire, yanking them both back to reality in an instant.

For a moment, they both froze, their bodies still tangled together, his hand halfway to her bare skin. The sound was so out of place, so intrusive, that it felt almost surreal. His phone buzzed relentlessly from his desk, a sharp reminder that there was a world outside of this office—one that didn’t care about the chaos unfolding inside it.

He pulled back slightly, his breathing ragged, his forehead still resting against hers. His shirt was rumpled, her blouse half undone, and for a split second, neither of them moved, as if caught in the aftermath of a hurricane.

Charles inhaled deeply, the reality of the situation crashing down on him, but instead of feeling guilt or regret, all he felt was impatience—a need to pick up where they had left off.

She looked up at him, her eyes dark, her lips swollen from their kiss. There was no awkwardness in her gaze, no second-guessing. Only desire. The kind of desire that made everything else fade away.

The beeping of his phone continued, insistent and irritating. His eyes flickered to the device, and then back to her. His next lecture. Of course. Duty called, but so did she, standing in front of him, half undressed, looking at him like she wanted nothing more than for him to finish what they’d started.

For a moment, he considered ignoring the alarm, cancelling everything for the rest of the day just to stay here with her. The temptation was overwhelming.

But then he let out a soft, low chuckle, dark and husky. "This...isn't over, mon ange."

She bit her lip, a flush spreading across her cheeks, but she didn’t move, didn’t try to fix her shirt. Instead, she stood there, still so close that he could feel the heat radiating off her, her chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths.

He leaned in, his lips grazing her ear, his voice a rough whisper. "Come back tonight. Six p.m."

Her breath hitched, her body leaning into his without hesitation.

She pulled back slightly to meet his gaze, her eyes wide, filled with heat and something else—anticipation. Her lips parted, but no words came out, just a nod, subtle but unmistakable.

The look in her eyes sent another surge of need coursing through him, but the persistent beeping of his phone was a reminder that the world wouldn’t wait for him, no matter how much he wanted to lose himself in this moment.

Slowly, he released his grip on her, forcing himself to step back, though every instinct told him to pull her back into his arms. The space between them felt like a physical ache, but the promise of later hung between them, heavy and electric.

He adjusted his shirt, trying to bring some semblance of order to his appearance as he crossed the room to silence the alarm on his phone. His fingers shook as he dismissed the reminder for his next lecture.

"Six," he repeated, his voice firmer now as he met her gaze once more.

She stood there for a moment longer, her blouse still undone, a look of raw hunger in her eyes. Then, she nodded again, turning toward the door, her movements slow, deliberate. She buttoned up her shirt but didn’t bother to tuck it back in as she left his office, the door closing behind her with a soft click.

Charles stood there for a long moment after she was gone, staring at the closed door, his chest still tight with everything he was feeling. His hands trembled slightly as he ran them through his hair, his mind already racing ahead to what would happen later tonight.

Six o’clock couldn’t come fast enough.

part four

[soracities]

"Persephone Writes a Letter to Her Mother", by A.E. Stallings

First – hell is not so far underground – My hair gets tangled in the roots of trees & I can just make out the crunch of footsteps, The pop of acorns falling, or the chime Of a shovel squaring a fresh grave or turning Up the tulip bulbs for separation. Day & night, creatures with no legs Or too many, journey to hell and back. Alas, the burrowing animals have dim eyesight. They are useless for news of the upper world. They say the light is “loud” (their figures of speech All come from sound; their hearing is acute).

The dead are just as dull as you would imagine. They evolve like the burrowing animals – losing their sight. They may roam abroad sometimes – but just at night – They can only tell me if there was a moon. Again and again, moth-like, they are duped By any beckoning flame – lamps and candles. They come back startled & singed, sucking their fingers, Happy the dirt is cool and dense and blind. They are silly & grateful and don’t remember anything. I have tried to tell them stories, but they cannot attend. They pester you like children for the wrong details – How long were his fingernails? Did she wear shoes? How much did they eat for breakfast? What is snow? And then they pay no attention to the answers.

My husband, bored with their babbling, neither listens nor speaks. But here there is no fodder for small talk. The weather is always the same. Nothing happens. (Though at times I feel the trees, rocking in place Like grief, clenching the dirt with torturous toes.) There is nothing to eat here but raw beets & turnips. There is nothing to drink but mud-filtered rain. Of course, no one goes hungry or toils, however many – (The dead breed like the bulbs of daffodils – Without sex or seed – all underground – Yet no race has such increase. Worse than insects!)

I miss you and think about you often. Please send flowers. I am forgetting them. If I yank them down by the roots, they lose their petals And smell of compost. Though I try to describe Their color and fragrance, no one here believes me. They think they are the same thing as mushrooms. Yet no dog is so loyal as the dead, Who have no wives or children and no lives, No motives, secret or bare, to disobey. Plus, my husband is a kind, kind master; He asks nothing of us, nothing at all – Thus fall changes to winter, winter to fall, While we learn idleness, a difficult lesson.

He does not fully understand why I write letters. He says that you will never get them. True – Mulched-leaf paper sticks together, then rots; No ink but blood, and it turns brown like the leaves. He found my stash of letters, for I had hid it, Thinking he’d be angry. But he never angers. He took my hands in his hands, my shredded fingers Which I have sliced for ink, thin paper cuts. My effort is futile, he says, and doesn’t forbid it.

[nightprompts]

&. 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

( dialogue  prompts  taken  from the script of  everything  everywhere  all  at  once  (2022),  directed  by  daniel  kwan  and  daniel  scheinert.  feel  free  to  edit  and  change  as  you  seem  fit. )

❛ you look really pretty right now. ❜

❛ stop changing the subject. ❜

❛ every day i fight, i fight for all of us. ❜

❛ what are you doing? what is wrong? ❜

❛ if i have to think about one more thing today, my head will explode. ❜

❛ you may be in grave danger. there is no time to explain.❜

❛ we can make our own way. please, come with me. ❜

❛ don't even talk to me about this because i won't remember.❜

❛ i am not your husband. at least not the one you know. i am another version of him from another life path, another universe. ❜

❛ i’m here because we need your help.❜

❛ sorry, very busy today. no time to help you– ❜

❛ all those years of searching have brought me here. to this universe. to you. ❜

❛ i’m here to tell you every rejection, every disappointment has led you here. to this moment. ❜

❛ i'm not ready to fight yet. ❜

❛ maybe we don't have a choice. ❜

❛ now, you can either come with me and live up to your ultimate potential, or lie here and live with the consequences. ❜

❛ i... want to lie here. ❜

❛ how often do people literally die laughing? ❜

❛ my husband won't even kill a spider. how are you the same person? ❜

❛ we are talking about infinity. if you can imagine it, somewhere out there, it exists. ❜

❛ how did i die? ❜

❛ i've seen you die a thousand ways. in a thousand worlds. in every single one, you were murdered. ❜

❛ what!? who wants me dead? ❜

❛ you’ve been feeling it too, haven’t you? something is off. your clothes never wear as well the next day, your hair never falls in quite the same way, even your coffee tastes... wrong. ❜

❛ maybe we would have been better off if we had never gotten married. ❜

❛ i never said that. ❜

❛ you didn’t have to. it’s the way you look at me. ❜

❛ can’t you see it? how wonderful it would be if you came with me? ❜

❛ i saw my life without you. i wish you could have seen it. it was beautiful. ❜

❛ shhh, you're not thinking straight. ❜

❛ what is worse than death? ❜

❛ i saw your face on a billboard and — this is silly — i wondered if you remembered me... ❜

❛ is it that i can’t be here, or that i’m not allowed to be here? ❜

❛ there is no good, there is no evil. there is only “goovil”. ❜

❛ if you can imagine it, you have fucked it. ❜

❛ do not be so closed minded that you blind yourself from the truth! ❜

❛ don’t make me fight you. i am really really good. ❜

❛ you're capable of anything because you're so bad at everything. ❜

❛ you can't remember anything because your bodies were under the control of other universes. ❜

❛ you were like puppets. and you could do things you normally can't do. you were like, what's that movie... raccaccoonie? ❜

❛ how can you defeat her in every universe, if you can't even kill her in one? ❜

❛ the sacrifices necessary to win this war... i know all too well. ❜

❛ i cannot lose another loved one to the darkness. ❜

❛ i know you have feelings. feelings that make you so sad. that make you just want to give up. that is not your fault. ❜

❛ i'll see you again soon, somewhere out there in all that noise. ❜

❛ just think happy thoughts. ❜

❛ you okay? caught you staring off into space again. ❜

❛ i'm the one you've been looking for. ❜

❛ i’m the one who will defeat you. ❜

❛ you’re finally free, like me. ❜

❛ you don't have to choose anymore. between loving me or hating me. you can do both at the same time. ❜

❛ before, you were asking about "our daughter". it's crazy, but it really got me thinking. what if you had come with me all of those years ago? ❜

❛ all of this time, i wasn't looking for someone who could defeat me. i was looking for someone who could see what i see, feel what i feel... ❜

❛ oh, good, you're here too. ❜

❛ i'm sorry about ruining everything, i– ❜

❛ we're all stupid. small stupid little humans. it's like our whole deal. ❜

❛ everything is going to be okay. ❜

❛ you think i’m weak don’t you? ❜

❛ when we first fell in love all of those years ago, your father would say i was too sweet for my own good. maybe he was right. ❜

❛ please! can we just stop fighting! ❜

❛ you tell me that it's a cruel world and we're all just running around in circles. i know that. i've been on this earth just as many days as you. ❜

❛ the only thing i do know is we have to be kind. be kind. especially, when we don't know what's going on. ❜

❛ i know you go through life with your fists held tight. you see yourself as a fighter. well, i see myself as one too. this is how i fight. ❜

❛ in another life, i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you. ❜

❛ you know what i say? cold, hysterical, unlovable bitches like us make the world go round. ❜

❛ you aren’t unlovable. there is always something to love. ❜

❛ even in a stupid, stupid universe where we have hot dogs for fingers, we’d all be very good with our feet! ❜

❛ in a universe where we both agree that no one could love you, if we look hard enough, something will prove us wrong. ❜

❛ we are all useless alone. so its good you're not alone. ❜

❛ maybe you win in this universe. but in another, i beat you. or we tie. or we eat crepes. ❜

❛ i don't want to hurt anymore. and for some reason when i'm with you, it hurts both of us. ❜

❛ out of all of the places i could be, why would i want to be here with you? ❜

❛ i still want to be here with you. i will always want to be here with you. ❜

❛ i will cherish these few specks of time. ❜

[gguk-n]

Can you please write enemies to lovers with Lando where they have their first kiss accidentally using the following prompt :

"Is this some kind of game to you?" She asked, anger in his words. "Are my feelings nothing but a silly little game to you?" He shook his head, the sensation of her lips on his still lingering on his skin. "Never," he told her. "I've been wanting to do that since we first met."

Pit Lane Rivals to Race Partners (Lando Norris x Engineer!Reader)

{Reader's POV}

I knew what I was getting into when I signed the contract with Mclaren as their engineer. Since I had freshly graduated with very little experience I was mostly going to be assisting the other engineers and learning from them. I had been in love with cars since I was little. I remember taking apart the toy cars and trying to put them back together only to be scolded by my mother since my siblings were crying because I broke their toys. Seeing how destructive I had gotten even for a 4 year old, my dad decided I needed to release my energy else where and took me karting. It was the most exciting and the best thing I had ever done. Learning how the machine worked and how to control it as I grew older was my biggest passion in life.

That was what led me to karting races. I was an aggressive driver and anyone who got in my way would feel my wrath. I made sure not to cause a lot of physical or collateral damage. But I did cause one boy a lot of emotional damage. Both of us were fiercely competitive and neither of us liked to lose. Our races always ended with Lando behind me and he could never really take it. I had a good laugh but all of this turned sour when we had a huge fight after a race crash and he pined the entire blame on me when he too was trying to run me off the track. Both our dad's had to intervene and that's how I ended up hating Lando. But I was 11 years old. Right now, I'm older and more mature and I don't really hate anyone, it a strong word. I might dislike people but I don't hate anyone. And the incident with Lando is a funny memory at best.

Lando went up to become a Formula one driver while I had to cut my dreams short since there weren't a lot of opportunities for female racers. I instead took the more academic route and got my degree in automobile engineering and strived to become a race engineer or racing principle one day. So, when I was able to apply for Mclaren which was well on it's way to become the best car on the grid, I couldn't say no. I also thought about Lando, and how I expected to have a bit of a laugh with him about out 'karting rivalry' now that we were older. What I didn't expect was that the boy who's eyes I almost gauged out was still as petty as ever.

It was the first race of the season, in Bahrain and we had flown in a few days before the drivers to get everything set up. So on the day Lando came up to the garage, all the new recruits were introduced to the drivers. Oscar was a sweetheart and even offered us words of encouragement since we were on the same boat. Lando greeted everyone but me properly. He ignored my hand when I raised it up to shake his. I was shocked and my mouth was left hung open. If he wanted to be petty, I can be petty. I made sure to avoid him like the plague and the times we interacted were filled with sarcastic remarks.

Oscar and I had grown pretty close and shared a sibling dynamic. Whenever Lando saw us interacting he would have a scowl on his face. And then a couple months later, Oscar stopped talking to me other then exchanging a few pleasantries. It hurt a little when Oscar ignored me and walked away. I thought we were friends. I felt like I had lost another friend since I joined Mclaren. The first one being Lando, since I imagined that we would've been friends since we karted together but it turns out I was completely wrong. Honestly, he was my first crush too, so it hurt a little more.

Eventually, Lando had gotten a little bearable and he had stopped passing snarky remarks whenever I would suggest a strategy or an upgrade. Each snarky remark and not having a proper friend after losing Oscar too, was starting to get to me. After the DNF in Austria and how pissed Lando was, not many people were willing to confront him; me included. If he hated my guts on a regular day, he would tear me apart today, I thought.

At the end of the day, as were packing up, I ran into Lando. I decided to extend my condolences. "Hi Lando" I said as I almost bumped into his shoulder while stacking up the papers. He looked at me and just nodded, as if to acknowledge my presence. I decide to let it go, since it was bad day for him. "You did pretty well today" I said cautiously. He let out a forced laugh, "ha, you must be so happy. Watching me fall apart" he retorted. "What no?" I replied shocked. "You've always hated me, since we were kids. You left no stone unturned to make me feel like shit. You weren't even a good sport" He spat out. "Ok, Lando, I get it. You had a bad day, it was a bad day for us too. But that doesn't give you the right to say whatever you like." I replied trying to keep my breathing constant. "You were a spoilt sport and always got what you wanted. It must your life's joy watching me struggle" he seethed. "Listen here mister, don't you dare direct your anger towards the one person you see right now. Whatever happened was a race incident and you need to put your big boy pants on and deal with it. Stop being a spoilt brat and taking your anger out on others." I replied calmly. If that asshole said anything else, I was about to slap him. Lando stepped closer, trapping me in between the desk and him. "You think you are so mature and above everyone else don't you" he sneered. Okay, I've had it with him. He has made my life difficult since I set foot in Mclaren. Before I knew it, my hand touched his cheek with a harsh sound.

His eyes were wide open. Before I could say anything, I felt a pair of warm lips on mine. I quickly pushed him away. "Is this some kind of game to you?" I asked, anger in my words. "Are my feelings nothing but a silly little game to you?" He shook his head, the sensation of my lips on his still lingering on his skin. "Never," he told me. "I've been wanting to do that since we first met after so many years." It was my turn to laugh. "You don't say" I chided. "Believe me Y/N I really like you. And I'm sorry for the way I've behaved. I really needed that slap to set me straight" he said while massaging his cheek. "Don't fuck with me" I replied with tears in my eyes. "Then why did you Oscar stop talking to me?" I croaked. "I got jealous" he replied, head held in shame. "I'm sorry. It's just I couldn't stand you laughing at his jokes. I wish I was the one making you laugh." he mumbled. "I wanted us to be friends when I first came here, you were the one who pushed me away." I replied sternly. "I was a stupid kid and I didn't know how to react when I saw my childhood crush." he muttered. I was shocked.

"Give me one chance, I'll repent for my sins and wrong all my rights." he begged. Honestly I wanted to kiss Lando before he started being an ass to me when I first saw him after so many years; maybe I should let my intrusive thoughts win. I pressed my lips against him while my hands found his neck. For a moment, he was still, there was no movement and within seconds I felt his lips move and his hands find a place on my waist. After we pulled away, "I had a crush on you when we were kids too. But I wasn't an ass when we met after so many years." I remarked, "but I'll give you a chance, prove me that you've matured and maybe I'll start thinking about that crush I used to have on you." Lando smiled, "Okay, yes, I'll prove how much I like you" he said while almost hitting the chair on the way out. "Dinner date at 8, I'll pick you up, tomorrow" he called out as he ran off making me laugh.

[gremlingottoosilly]

THAT HOSTAGE ASK WAS SO HOT

I can just imagine how scared she would be when they get "home"

König just trying his best to convince her it won't hurt as much as before and she just absolutely terrified of having to do that all again

Part 1 here

Konig is horrible!

Poor girl just prompted sex because she was terrified and thought Konig, with his hood and giant figure, was one of the bad guys - she was on the edge of losing her sanity at this point, and when this soldier guy so excitedly started to take off his pants...yeah, our girl got trauma.

Konig is big, and the sex was undoubtedly painful, as much as he tried to relax her and make her like it too - but she at least could keep herself together as a means of "Okay, I will endure this and go home". When Konig didn't let go of her even as she was finally freed from being a hostage...no one would even believe that he did something wrong, poor girl is definitely traumatized by her time with terrorists and now thinks of everyone as an enemy( of course Konig, an upstanding citizen, would help her get her mind together!

He is so smiley and happy when he drives her home - to his home. For our dearest colonel, it's an amazing story about love at first sight. He just got himself his own wifey! And she literally agreed to anal unprompted, how perfect is she???

He will fulfill his promise of making everything nicer for her! He is eating her out, spending at least 20 minutes with his tongue in her sore ass, even though she whines and begs him to just stop and let her go(( he ignores her silly little pleas, his girl is tired and a bit dumb from everything that happened to her! He is using lube this time, making sure that you're nice and open for him. Hell, he will fuck your pussy first, to make you adjust to his length even more!

Poor darling will go to sleep with a plug in her ass because he wants her to be relaxed and open for him( he will soothe her whole night, hugging and kissing her gently just so she would calm down and stop crying, it's breaking his heart(((

[great-axepectations]

Imagine you watch these family friendly minecraft youtubers. Not necessarily for children, but it's wholesome entertainment for all ages. Then they say "hey, we're going to start a quick little hardcore series! Three lives and you're out!" And you think "ok yeah this sounds fun, I'll watch it."

And it is silly goofy funtimes! The first death is hilarious, and it's still the good clean fun you're used to. As it goes on, the dynamics between characters are getting interesting and more people are losing lives but it's still lighthearted fun.

AND THEN SUDDENLY IT'S GAME OF THRONES

Loyalty is sworn through blood oaths. Armies are assembled. There are epic large-scale battles. People are dying off for real and it's actually really impactful. One of them is roleplaying his grief so convincingly that his friends think something is wrong irl. There are deep, heart-wrenching betrayals that players are actually devastated by. None of this is scripted, by the way. All of the character arcs, narrative foils, and foreshadowing was completely organic and by accident.

AND THEN THE ENDING

So you know at the end of the first Hunger Games book where the two who have been together from the beginning have won, and the megalomaniacal evil game runners expect them to kill each other, but they find a way out of it? Instead of the game runners demanding they kill each other, it's the ghosts of all of their dead friends and enemies screaming for their blood. And instead of finding a way out of it, the last two go back to the burned-out remains of their home and reluctantly punch each other to death. And the whole time they're laughing and crying and apologizing to each other, and the winner is immediately so overcome with grief that he throws himself off a cliff to his death.

AND THEN THEY ALL GO BACK TO MAKING THEIR WHOLESOME FAMILY-FRIENDLY MINECRAFT CONTENT

LIKE SORRY I'M SUPPOSED TO BE NORMAL AFTER THAT???

[so-idialed-9]

It's been over two weeks since Liam, and I'm...still not that OK. And I don't know if I will be. It hit me so much harder than I imagined. It still feels like we are in the wrong universe. This never should have happened. So this is just a rant about how I am feeling, in case you are feeling it too. Please, don't forget Liam. And don't let hangers-on steal his truth again.

I find relief and joy seeing videos and photos of Liam, or reading fanfiction about him. Thinking of him as joyful and silly and complex and loved and having challenges he can triumph over...we should never lose that. I never want him to be erased. I'm glad that wasn't stolen from us.

Seeing the fandom come back together, new people fall in love with Liam, and Directioners not let his entire life story be simplified or tragically recast or the bullshit narrative they tried to place on him, has been mixed.

On one hand, I'm deeply grateful Directioners were cultivated to analyze the shit out of PR-spun industry bullshit and know exactly how to undermine it LOUDLY. Without that, the sloppy, contradictory, false narrative about Liam would've been fully accepted. And now it never will be no matter how hard they try.

But I'm also sad because I would give anything for Liam to have had five minutes in a world that openly adored him as much as he deserved. See him bashful and glowing as people raved about his voice, dance moves, leadership, songwriting abilities...his warm eyes and cuddly affection and kindness to so. many. people.

I feel rage thinking about how Liam was FUCKING TELLING THE TRUTH about everything. He told the truth when he said the band was formed around him, that Simon promised him. He told the truth about leading the band - ten seconds of watching This Is Us shows that. He told the truth about Zayn's lack of parental support especially from his father, which must've impacted him severely. He told the truth about the industry and what he lived through. And people unfollowed and laughed at him, made him into a joke, but he was telling the truth the whole time.

And now, my biggest fear is that we could lose another member. I'm very worried about Zayn but almost afraid to not worry about the others as much. I know that all my worry isn't helping anyone and that feels worse, that there's nothing I can do.

And I fear that soon, people will stop paying attention and forget him all over again. Or let his story get swallowed up by people who never did anything but opportunistically live off of him.

[bunnivez]

Modern! Zoya…

Her first job was as a tattoo artist. Most of her costumers were women, they would specifically ask for her to do their tattoos; both because of her amazing work and the other… to get a close look at her. Whats better? Zoya is aware of the many women she is pulling (๑>؂•̀๑)

Imagine you two meet randomly bumping against each other and turns out you work at the shop right next to the one she works at!

Or you got recomendad by your friend to go to a certain shop to get your tattoo done, telling you to specifically ask for a woman named Zoya since her work is more professional and she is more trusted to give you great results.

She used to live in an apartment until she got a husky… I mean she it wasn’t like she couldn’t afford an average house but damn, she now has to pay more…

Has a love-hate relationship with her dog TRUST. Often complains of their sudden howling and the amount of hair they shed.

“It’s 1:30AM why the fuck are you howling like that!? You sound like you’re dying!” “Oh my f… You know i’m tempted in leaving you bald so I don’t have to deal with having your hair on the couch.”

At the same time however, they are also her best buddy and friend. There are times where she even lets them sleep with her on bed… For at least an hour before Zoya falls asleep and accidentally pushes s them off the bed in the middle of the night.

Yes she is a messy sleeper, god knows how the heck she ends up with on leg on the headboard and the other hanging on the bed. She snores like a dad…

Like even her huskey got scared for a second and kept barking until she woke up.

Listen, when going out she has this whole badass outfit, rings on her fingers, chains, unbuttoned blouse, a whole ass fit that screams “DADDY”

And then there are times where she just pulls up to the grocery store with an “Idgaf” outfit… Yet somehow she still looks hot. Jorts, a black baggy shirt, socks with the damn sandals or crocs combo (ಠ_ಠ)

Has a tongue piercing and you cannot tell me otherwise. If not, it is definitely her nipples.

Dark or alcohol filled chocolates girly. She isn’t a fan of overly sweet stuff.

Once choked on boba balls.

Honestly she can be romantic at times. She takes you to dates often— if not she plans something you two can do at home. Like cook, watch movies, play games or something.

Motorcycle rides with her are very common, more so with the fact that she doesn’t really own a car… Which she did confess that she may or may not be the best at driving.

Who knows how the heck she managed to stay alive with the many incidents she’s had while driving.. I guess she’s immortal.

Has an electric guitar, she posts videos on TikTok playing it and they get pretty high views! Like 406.1k views or something.

Her reposts mainly contain of two things; brain rots, lesbian.

Takes the most silly pictures of you and posts them on her story.

Source ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

HAHAHSGSBSGAVAWHABE, IMAGINE HER LAYING DOWN WHILE YOU SIT ON TOP OF HER TO DO HER MAKEUP.

Holds you like a stuffed animal when sleeping. It’s actually so cute but it’s kinda hard to break free from her hold.

YOU GUYS PLAY ROCK, PAPER, SCISSORS, AND WHOEVER LOSES IS IN CHARGE OF COOKING.

Her cooking is actually pretty damn good! I feel like she is especially a specialist when it comes to cooking meat.

If you are too shy to order your food whenever you two are out, or pay, DO NOT WORRY, SHE LITERALLY IS YOUR SAVIOR, NO KIDDING. This woman gives no fucks at all, too shy to order? She’ll do it, hot your order wrong? She’ll go up and tell them.

Have I mentioned she gets up at 5AM just to do pushups?…

The type to randomly smack or grab your ass, she doesn’t care about the size.

I don’t recommend watching romance movies with her… she will cringe at any kissing scenes acting like she wouldn’t or doesn’t do that with you 24/7.

Not the best at dancing… Girl is STIFF.

I have the feeling she is the type to not admit that she is in pain during her period. She will act all tough and all until she can’t anymore.

(We need more comforting the ptn women on their period instead of the other way around, they also need comfort 😔)

Oh yeah did I also mention she was close to breaking your phone once? It all happened when you were scrolling through TikTok and saw a thirst trap (*cough* Rhea Ripley *cough*) and when I tell you grabbed your phone and threw it… IT HAPPENED.

Says she hates kids but has a soft spot for them actually. They remind her of Horo when she was wayyy younger.

Randomly sends you weird TikToks…. Like it’s so random and she says nothing about it.

She isn’t a fan of dresses, but she once tried it for you and it was a sight. It hugged her curves right and she kept flexing her muscles. If you take any pictures she seriously will kill you. (Especially if you send them to her friends).

If you are out she WILL text and call you every 36 minutes if she can’t come with you. And if she is too busy to pick you up she will face time you on your way home.

Has like so many posters of her favorite bands, korn, kiss, Deftones, ect.

Randomly gives you kisses when you least expect it. They are so random, you could be distracted and she will kiss your cheek, or your forehead, or the top of your head.

If she sees anyone eyeing you while in public she will pull you close and give the person a nasty look.