#(but i mean look at them of course they are)

[navydoves]

Dragon!Sylus and his strange affectionate habits

❥ you’re his mate, but you’re also human. his habits weird you out!

⭐︎

❥ he licks you! you could be sitting on the couch, minding your own business with a book in hand and sylus would come up right next to you and just start licking your cheek. you’d retract suddenly and look him up and down with a strange look on your face.

“what? i already explained this to you kitten.”

licking is his way of showing affection toward you. it’s supposed to tell you “i’m here to protect you” in a way. he also just loves tasting your skin and becoming more familiar with you since it brings him so much comfort. he’ll even lick your hair if he’s really getting into it!

❥ he feeds you really well. hungry? no you’re not, not with him at least. he’ll feed you until you’re completely and utterly satiated from his meals. when he sees you happy and drowsy from a full stomach it brings him very deep satisfaction.

sometimes he’ll put bags of snacks or containers of food where you frequent in hopes you’ll eat them. if you don’t, he’ll take offense or think he did something wrong and now you’re protesting!

❥ he makes you wear his treasures. part of being a dragon means hoarding pretty and shiny things. dragons are very protective and territorial about their things, but sylus makes an exception for you. he insists that you wear the jewels he’s collected and will drown you in his riches.

he especially loves it when you go out into public with his treasures on because it shows off his wealth via his beautiful mate. he’ll designate certain jewels or items just for you and if you’re even a little bit dissatisfied with them, he’ll throw them out right away.

❥ he builds nests for you. sylus will innocently steal your most precious items or the items that seem to bring you the most comfort and then bring them to an empty corner. it’s here that he piles up your cosmetics, clothes, bedsheets, pillows, stuffies—anything you could think of—and then he waits.

sylus would never force you to do anything, he wants you to come to the nest on your own volition without his input. he won’t even mention it, he’ll just wait until you find the nest and watch from afar what you do. if you finally do decide to nestle in, he’ll jump for joy knowing that you like it. he’ll also never come into your nest unless you ask him to, and if you do, let’s just say he’ll take care of you really well.

❥ he purrs, and really loudly too. you’ll hear him purring when you’re cuddling, when you’re eating, when you’re bathing, during sex, when you’re doing anything, really. dragons only purr when extremely content but sylus makes a habit out of it when he’s around you. the man is just very happy.

the sound of his purrs come from a deep place within his chest, making them loud and deep. even though they may startle you sometimes, the frequency and vibrancy brings you a sense of comfort and peace, and sylus knows this. whenever you’re upset or anxious, he’ll start purring loudly in hopes of calming you down.

❥ he walks around naked. of course, sylus only does this with you, but it never fails to catch you off guard. it’s not so much a sexual thing, per se, but more of a comfort thing. he’s so comfortable with your presence that he doesn’t feel the need to keep his tight, itchy clothes on when he’s alone with you. he’ll let everything hang and jiggle if he so calls for it.

although, there are times where he’ll purposefully walk around naked to seduce you like a peacock would. he thinks flaunting off his assets will make you want to pounce on him and make love to him all night—which is unfortunately true.

❥ he watches you while you sleep. at first it was cute, but when you awoke one night to his vibrant red eyes staring you down in the dark, it started to feel a little creepy. he explains it away by saying he needs to make sure you’re okay, which doesn’t really make much sense to you since you were in his secure territory.

because sylus doesn’t need much sleep, whenever you take your beauty rest, he feels the urge to look after you and your vulnerable form. he also just enjoys watching you do something so silly and human-like sleeping. this was one of your habits that he didn’t understand. he does finally back off a little bit after your complaining, though.

❥ he has a wild tail. sylus has full control over all of his body parts at any give time, so his tail is always indicative of how he’s feeling. he has a rather calm tail when you two are around others, but when alone with you? you have to dodge it sometimes from how erratic it is. he explains that it’s the equivalent of how your leg bounces. something you don’t even think about when it happens, but can have control over once you realize it.

it’s just another way of him saying to you that he’s comfortable enough around you to let loose with his body and do more natural, unconscious mannerisms.

[slttygeto]

Actors on Actors | Toji Fushiguro

pairing: actor! toji x actress! reader

genre: interview style, slightly suggestive on toji's part

note: ah shit here we go again

📊 Video Stats

10M views | 350K likes | 40K comments

Convincing Toji to do this interview was as hard as his team had expected. 

The man was extremely private, always giving short answers on red carpets but they were more than enough to feed his fans. Coupled with a confident smirk of his and a proud display of the scar on his lip, the man knew he had people swooning for him. 

However, he wasn’t fond of interviews. It was evident in the way he leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest, a bored look on his face and only answering when the question pertains to his character only. 

Other than that, you couldn’t get a single word out of this man.

When you heard that you were invited to be on an episode of Actors on Actors, you were both excited and nervous. Talking about yourself wasn’t your favorite thing in the world, but you loved getting to know other people in the industry and bonding with them over shared experiences.

What you don’t expect is to read Toji’s name on the paper. 

“Toji?” you turn to your manager with a look of disbelief on your face. “Fushiguro Toji?”

Your manager gives you an apologetic look. She could see the anxiety brewing inside of you, and you have to place a hand over your heart to calm your nerves. 

Talking to that man was the equivalent of talking to a brick wall. There was no way this was going to be a good interview—and who thought of pairing the two of you together?

The tall, broad shouldered man sits in his changing room with the same paper in hand as his eyes land on his name. His makeup artist catches the glimpse of a smirk on his face before Toji turns to his manager.

“That’s the pretty one, right?”

His manager chuckles before placing a hand on Toji’s shoulder. “The one and only.”

“Maybe it won’t be so bad.”

The interview is off to an awkward start. At least from your part. 

You feel small under the gaze of such an intimidating man, putting a leg over the other and pulling down the hem of your short dress to hide as much of you as possible. That doesn’t stop Toji’s shameless gawking as the two of you shake hands.

“I’m (Name), nice to meet you.”

“‘course I know who you are,” the words roll of his tongue smoothly and he watches as you purse your lips, dropping your gaze. “Fushiguro Toji”

“Very pleased to meet you.” You finally let go of his hand but you could’ve sworn that his hand lingered on top of yours a bit longer. 

When neither of you decide to speak up first, you let out a nervous chuckle while Toji turns to the filming crew with a playful smirk.

“This is fun,”

“I mean…” you trail off, smoothening the fabric of your dress. Again, his eyes land on your thigh and clear your throat.

“I’m…a really huge fan of your work.” your voice is small as you confess your admiration for his work in the industry. “I’m always amazed by your ability to get into character so quickly.”

“Watched some behind the scene footage?”

You were caught.

“Maybe…I mean it’s there!” You laugh and fortunately for you, Toji does as well as he nods. 

“Sure it is. I could say the same about you—” he gestures towards you with a genuine smile. “Great work, it’s rare to see someone so passionate in the industry nowadays.”

“Oh,” you wave your hands. “It’s-it’s nothing, I just really love acting.”

Toji braces himself forward with his elbows on his knees. “How old were you when you thought of giving it a try?” 

Your back straightens up under his gaze and you avoid his eyes as you think of a response. “I was about 6 or 7 when my parents would pull out a camera during Christmas and record me recreating scenes from movies like The Wizard of Oz and The Shining.”

“The Shining?”

“I was a weird kid,” you laugh when you see the look of shock painting his features. “But yeah these two were my favorite movies of all time.”

“That’s interesting, cause in a way I can see you getting into movies like that at a young age.” 

“Really?” 

Toji really likes the glint in your eyes. 

“Mhm,” he nods as he leans back in his armchair. “Like I said I’ve seen some of your work and–” he raises his hands. “I’m a fan.”

You drop your head shyly, silently thanking him for the amount of compliments he was throwing your way. This was honestly going better than you expected, but you knew it was time to ask him questions. 

“Can I just say,” you gesture towards the man. “Your recent work absolutely blew my mind—I mean, the entire movie was just amazing but your role. Wow, just wow.” 

Toji bows down his head when you clap for him, chuckling when you go the extra mile by pretending to bow down for him. 

“That role, was it difficult to get into such a state of mind? I’ve seen many actors—including myself, who needed a much needed break from everything after a certain role. Was it the same for you or were you able to detach yourself from the role easily?”

Toji gives it a thought, taking in the fact that you had crafted this question so carefully unlike any other interview he’s ever been on before. 

“After we finished shooting, I cut off contact with most of the world for about three months straight. I moved out of my neighborhood and into an area where it was just me, the mountains and the sound of birds.”

 Toji proceeds to explain how the role was mentally taxing, how the idea of going back and doing promo for the movie seemed like a huge roadblock he needed to get over. But after lots of therapy and some much needed time off, he was able to get back on his feet. 

“I’m glad that you feel better now, the industry needs good actors like you.” You admit and Toji leans back in his armchair again with a knowing smirk.

“I could say the same about you.”

The interview proceeds smoothly, with the two of you asking each other questions back and forth. After fifty minutes, the interview comes to an end and you get up to share a well deserved goodbye hug. 

However, Toji’s arms linger a little longer around your waist and he whispers something in your ear that’s facing away from the camera.

“You look good by the way.”

Guys, the mics are still on!

🗨️ Top Comments

💬 [somethingsgottagive]: DID YALL SEE THAT (6k likes)

💬 [somuchtosay]: this entire interview is just toji flirting with her im losing my mind (5k likes)

💬 [onehastogo]: ive never seen him this down bad omg??? (7,3K likes)

💬 [theboyismine]: this is the most talkative ive ever seen toji am i sensing smth (1.8K likes)

💬  [sweetnsourchicken] replied to  [theboyismine]: THAT HUG???

💬 [alltheavocadoes]: THE THING HE WHISPERED???(923 likes)

💬 [albumoftheyear]: oh the internet is on FIRE (508 likes)

💬 [cmontryme]: someone check on me ive shipped them for the longest time (392 likes)

💬  [sweetnsourchicken] replied to  [cmontryme]: without a single interaction is crazy

💬 [cmontryme] replied to [sweetnsourchicken]: i’m crazy

2025 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[ranoutofficssoiwritemyown]

Hello, I hope you're fine!! If you are open for requests, how do you think the lads men would react to mc telling them her period is late?

Hii, so sorry for the delay. Uni and work have been crazy and I finally managed to sit down to write

Soo let's start with Zayne. He tracks your period so he knows it's late, hence he doesn't even seem fazed when you burst into his office panicking.

"Yes, 8 days to be exact. You've been under stress these two weeks and don't even eat meals properly. Although, I suggest taking a test and in case of pregnancy I'll schedule and appointment with the gynecologist in our hospital"

You can't help but look at him shocked by his calm demeanour.

"Of course, I would tell all of these 2 days ago if only you didn't ditch our appointment. Now, if you excuse me I have a patient waiting for me in surgery room"

He rose from his chair heading to the door but stopped in front of you.

"I hope you know, in case of pregnancy you don't have anything to worry about"

You just nod your head still dumbfounded and he left the room with a kiss on your forehead.

I imagine Sylus also tracking your period and he wants you to be pregnant so bad. He is the one to tell you that you're pregnant, actually. One night, when you're in the kitchen deciding on late night snack he stands beside you with his arms crossed.

"Your period is late"

He brushes off your question about him tracking your period, instead repeating his statement. You make a mental calculations and just shrug.

"Only by 3 days. It's no big deal"

He clears his throat.

"It might become a big deal. You should take a test just in case"

"It happens sometimes. Like I said, no big deal"

"Take a test, just to be sure"

"First of all it's too early. Second of all, we use protection-"

"We know it doesn't protect 100% of times"

"Oh, stop worrying, will you? I'm not pregnant"

You finally decide on strawberry yogurt.

"I think you are mistaken, sweetie. I do not fret over the possibility of you being pregnant. Quite the opposite, if we are being honest..." he mumbles the last part under his breath but you squint at him.

"Sylus"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Do you want me to be pregnant or something?"

A small smirk pulls on his mouth

"I am definitely not opposed to the idea"

You shake your head standing on your toes to peck his cheek but he turns his head to kiss you. Even after dating him for so long this small gesture leaves you blushing mess.

"I'll be in our room" you tell him and he nods still with the lovestruck look on his face. Once you leave the room he pinches his nose mumbling about canceling the order of baby-proof items.

Poor Rafayel doesn't know what hit him. Sure he has imagined having a family with you but didn't expect it to be so soon. What do you mean there might be a baby? He's the baby. There's going to be another person you'll love as much as you love him? He has to share now? This can't get worse. And as you look at him nervously he realises you're waiting for his answer.

"Late... okay, cool cool cool...  how late?"

"7 days"

He scoffs as if it's nothing.

"7 days is nothing, right? It's- uh did you take the test?"

"Yes-"

"It's negative, right?"

His hopeful tone makes you scrunch your eyebrows.

"It is" you say hesitantly "but it's still too early to be sure. I'll take another one tomorrow"

"Yeah, of course. Okay"  He seems to calm down

"Umm Rafayel... do you not want me to be-" you clear your throat "what if I'm pregnant?"

It just hit him that he's making this worse for you.

"Oh, cutie. It's not that. I want to have children with you... someday" he avoids your eyes "it's just... yourattentionwouldbeonthemallthetime"

You just give him a look that hints you have no idea what he just said. He sighs, giving up.

"Your attention would be on them and you'll cast me aside and I'm not ready for that" He admits blushing.

"Okay well, if I turn out to be pregnant..." you trail off not knowing, or not wanting, to finish your sentence.

"I'll be there, all the way. That's my kid too, ya know"

You crack a small smile

"You're weird"

"Well, you're not perfect either" he scoffs "nevermind, you are perfect"

You just laugh at him.

Xavier is so confused

"It's late. That's amaaaziiing....lyy bad..?" He tries to construct a sentence based on your expression but fails miserably "can you tell me what that means?"

"Well I don't know. It might be nothing serious but there's a chance I might be pregnant but we always use protection so I don't know how..." You sit with your head in your hands "I'm scared"

Xavier falling silent doesn't help your panic at all.

"Please say something"

"I'm going to be a father?"

You let out a confused laugh.

"I don't know. Probably not, but you might. I have an appointment with doctor Zayne tomorrow so maybe we'll know"

"I'm going to be a father"

You start to think you broke him

"Xavier... we don't know yet"

"Yeah, of course. But I would like to have a child with you"

He closes the distance, placing his hands on your hips

"Do you not want to..."

"I wasn't planning on it yet, but I'm not against it"

He smiles gently.

"Don't get your hopes up yet, though"

"Of course"

But as you leave the room you hear him saying "I'm gonna be a dad" to himself.

One evening, Caleb comes home and lets out a sigh when he enters kitchen.

"Okay, why is the breakfast I made for you still untouched in the refrigerator? We agreed you'd eat meals properly y'know?.. Pipsquak?" He calls out in the end when he receives no answer from you. He finds you in your bedroom sitting on the bed with your knees to your chest.

"What's wrong?" He's alert.

"My period is late"

"Oh my god" He starts laughing sitting beside you and pulling you into a hug. "No wayy, did you take a test? Are we gonna have little you and me running around? I'm definitely teaching them how to shoot a gun"

"Shut up for a minute" you grumble in his chest "I didn't take a test. It's only 5 days, I don't think test would show it if I was pregnant"

"I'll buy them anyway. Bunch of them, so you can take one everyday till it shows positive"

His ridiculous statement pulls a giggle out of you.

"Glad to know you're okay with it"

"Try ecstatic"

You look up at him and spot a mischievous grin on his face.

"You know... you'd be a milf"

That earns a smack on his chest

"Idiot"

"This idiot is going to be a father of your children, so be nice"

"I might not be even pregnant"

"I can take care of that"

He laughs at another smack he receives.

[dilf-docs]

I Can Fix Her (No Really I Can)

jackson!joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: jackson's loud mouthed spoiled princess has suddenly gone quiet. what or who could be behind such miracle?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (20s/50s), pwp, p. in v., oral (m. and f. receiving), brat taming, dacryphilia, pussy spanking, fingering, humiliation kink, dom!joel, sub!joel if u squint, soft!joel (look at that switch sandwhich fr), brat!reader (she's annoying and v mean, you've been warned), denial is a river so take this before the world mourns joel miller again

word count: 5,391 words

side note: new layout my citizens! will eventually update all of the blog but as for now, enjoy this one and the masterlist. quick thing, i just wanted to say that i had a very shitty week and for the life of me, can't find a way to make ttdik pt. 4 not oversaturated with angst bc i wish all men a very pleasant die or how to connect what i've written so far. note that this was kinda rushed; i feel confident of some parts and not the whole thing. just hoping it works for y'all! (based on this request)

Joel Miller isn't who he used to be before.

Life in Jackson has made him... soft. This version of him, tired of a life of killing and running, tainted with blood and regret. But he's now an uncle and a father. Well, used to be. Ever since Ellie had found out the truth and wanted nothing to do with him, he had somewhat become downright pathetic. Joel could be both Jackson's most useful man, even at his age, while also being their biggest wretch. Ah, yes: Joel Miller, the man who lived in the house down the street, alone and certainly worth the townsfolk's pity.

Maybe that's why you couldn't bother to be nice to him. In your eyes, a man like Joel just didn't deserve your time or respect.

But it wasn't personal, really. He happened to, unfortunately, be in charge of your patrol. That, in your eyes, made him your enemy: a person to be defied and picked apart. And the worst part is, in his current position, Joel just didn't have the energy to fight you back.

"You want me to cross that wearing this?" your protest comes in the form of a whiny pitch. "Ew, no. I'd rather be dead"

At least dead, you wouldn't be a bother. He rolls his eyes, rubbing his face tiredly. The rest of the group watches the interaction in silence, expressions pretty much the same.

"I promise 'cha, princess. Ya' wouldn't want that"

The nickname should irk you, but you let it pass. It is no news to anyone that you are indeed a princess: Jackson's resident little spoiled brat.

Sheltered from early starts of civilization's downfall, maybe your parents had done more bad than good trying to protect you and settling early on in Jackson. You had grown to be a pampered bitch who made Joel's patience wear thin. Of course, to keep him busy and distracted, Tommy had assigned you to Joel. And while he'd rather not spend his days on a house too big for a person, he too wasn't exactly excited about having to deal with you on your patrol shifts.

(If you could call them that. You did anything but patroling)

You cross your arms, petty. "I'm not moving unless you carry me"

Maybe your need to defy him also came, partly, because of this: the way he's looking at you right now, a quiet rage simmering in those big round brown eyes that remind you of a kicked puppy, but when they burn, they seem like a forest fire, old remnants of the hunter that had been tamed by domestic life and a broken relationship resurfacing.

It excites you.

All your life, people seemed to bend to your will-- a force of nature: to your cruel harsh icy wind. You kept Jackson down at their knees, but it wasn't kindness, rather your shoe up their throats what put them to your feet.

Yet, Joel... he could be a loser to you, but he was probably the only one you'd met to be insane enough to defy you. The only man who didn't succumb to your fluttering eyelashes, pink lips and princess manners. No, he ignored the way you looked at him and your constant begging for attention, leaving the job to those men who seemed to follow your every step, ready to be themselves a carpet for you to step in. He'd roll his eyes and walk past you like you were the most bland, boring and uninteresting thing in the world: not worth a second of his attention. Joel simply wouldn't entertain your spoiled attitude past replying to a few snarky comments.

And that revolted and aroused you in equal parts.

It's not like you could escape your obligation, but perhaps, the bigger reason you chose to not skip patrol like you used to before his arrival, is to see Joel Miller's sinking ships for eyes try to wash over your rebel flame.

"Be free to stay then" he replies, but you don't miss the way his grip on his rifle turns white. "I ain't carryin' no one"

"I can carry you" one of the guys from your group offers.

(You can't remember his name)

"Sure" you chuckle, victory smile dancing on your lips at the sight of him looking above his shoulder in a barely stolen glance, thinking you won't notice.

But you do.

Joel Miller fucking hates you.

After five decades alive, he simply can't stand the idea of breathing the same air as a spoiled little brat like you.

Joel's seen destruction, loss, hopelessness and blood up close, and the thought of you walking around like the world owes you a favor fills him with vitriol.

He's been alive for fifty-six years so he's simply just tired. Too tired to give a damn about your attitude, despite how you manage to press all his buttons every time you open your mouth.

He still remembers the first time he met you, how you laughed like people did before all civilization was destroyed. You walked with a confident strut, boots clicking against Jackson's streets, every step made with determination. Like you knew just where you were going.

He envied you, in a way. After Salt Lake City, he seemed to have lost his path, all in the name of love. Then, that warm feeling had turned cold and cruel like all things in this world ravaged by pain, and he felt even at more loss than the first time he experienced grief.

But you? You lived everyday with a dismissal so cold it seemed like nothing could hurt you.

He missed that part of him who just survived: hardened by the world around him.

But Jackson tamed him. Ellie made him soft.

And then you brought up that old dark part of him: the putrid black liquid that spewed through the cracks of his new character that made him loved by Jackson. The same one that made people fear one of Boston QZ's most brutal smugglers. It was that vicious anger, red on his vision like the ichor that would splatter on his clothes or cover his bruised knuckles.

He hated you for it.

But that was in the past, and Joel Miller simply didn't care.

Yet, you made him care. Outright forced him to.

In a way, it seemed like you enjoyed this: the banter of contained rage and practiced patience, dripping as a leak until it overflew. You'd shot your bratty remarks and petty complains until he'd turn around and see you. Then, you'd smile, like that's all you needed to feel better. Far superior. And he hated it. Knew your little game, and fed into it, even as he told himself he wouldn't. Like a drug: a destroying addiction.

Joel didn't understand why you took the time to enrage him, having even heard once when he was late for patrol (he overslept), how you talked bad about the, in your words, Lonely Pathetic Man From The House On The End Of The Road.

Joel Miller has been patient. God knows he has. But he isn't religious, and was never the type to let things pass by.

No. Joel Miller was born with impel, and no matter how many love he had to give, the world around him constantly reminded him of the power hidden behind the exertion over others, how alive he'd felt with the gift he'd been given by heaven.

He isn't patient. He isn't a fool. He isn't pathetic: and Joel Miller will take matters between his rugged hands.

Tommy had arched an eyebrow first, looking at just his and your name on the patrol schedule.

"What's going on?" he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his brother.

"Found a cabin deep on the forest" curt, "I'ont need lot'a people to scavenge the place"

In the end, he agreed. Who didn't? You, obviously, the reason so many before him had gotten rid of their obligation of you. To flirt with you at the Tipsy Bison? Hell yeah. To have you in their patrol team? God, no.

"Where is everyone else?" you cross your arms above your chest, bracing yourself because of the weather. "Also, isn't this climate not patrol appropiate?"

Joel's not dumb, of course he knows that-- he can feel his aching joints shiver and bones creak because of the temperature. But he also knows he's sick of your shit.

"Ain't you little Ms. Know it all" he mocks, brushing past you, shoulders clashing with the same harsh force the icy breeze does to your face.

"And you're an asshole" you're quick to counter, "bringing us out here in the cold. If you wanted to kill me, you could've made it easier for both of us and done it way back in Jackson"

He rolls his eyes at your incessant bickering.

"Watch y'er mouth" is all he says, the brat hanging dangerously close to the tip of his tongue.

"I'd rather watch my step, thank you very much" you purse your plush pink lips, annoyed. "Have you seen the size of this roots? I will trip and break myself"

He chuckles at your hyperboles and the way you jump in a rather exaggerated manner, more in amusement than irritation.

"Don't think ya' can handle all'at?" Joel taunts. "Gon' break like a doll?"

Doll. It hangs in the air, like the snowflakes that fall into your hair and his eyebrows, the white fusing with his own.

"I'm strong" but it comes out weak.

"Don't seem like it" he's laughing at you again, a sharp annoyed edge to it. "With all that complainin' ya' do"

You huff, your incredulity condescing in the air.

"What's wrong with that?"

"With bein' annoyin'?" Joel quips.

"With voicing out my concerns"

He's walking ahead of you, yet you see his shoulders slump, like he does when he disagrees.

"Those ain't concerns, jus' moanin' and bitchin'"

It's still inside the fun banter you're carrying, harmless, but for some reason, it strikes you in the face.

"If you can't stand me so much, why don't you quit on me, like the others?"

You may seem cold, but there's that cut that always bleeds. Or it may be the need for something that blurs the line between you and those survivors out there who've outlived the worst a man can endure.

Like Joel.

You just can't help wanting it all.

Joel stops on his tracks at your words, response barely above a whisper:

"'Cause I ain't a quitter"

As if that could bring any sense into what had started the moment he layed eyes on you.

You finally reach your destiny in silence, the old cabin hanging by a thread.

"This looks like shit" you comment out loud.

Joel lets out a laugh, a deep rumbling sound coming out of his chest. For a reason, red dust makes it's way into your warm cheeks.

"No, doll. In this world, this ain't shit. It's decent"

You don't miss the way your breath hitches and heart skips a beat at the petname. He doesn't miss the way his tongue burns and his jeans squeeze at the sight of you: powerless.

God, Joel could go to hell for this. (But he'd probably be fine)

"Decent? You're one to talk" it spills out, your fear attacking the only way you know how when you're nervous.

Bite.

You hate feeling weak. You hate how your own game has turned on you.

It seems, Joel Miller isn't just a pathetic man but one who knows how to play.

(You knew this. But now, it's real, not the image you touch yourself to during nighttime, and it's equally both exciting and scary)

The red desire for hunger is there on his eyes. "What's that s'pposed to mean?"

You tilt your head, tone feigning innocence. "I think you know what I mean"

He paces around the room, like your floral scent is too suffocating and the cold isn't enough to shake the fire that burns inside him.

"Spit it" he dares, stopping midtrack. You remain silent, so he walks over to you, face so close, some spit lands in your face. "I said, spit it"

"I think you're pathetic, Joel Miller" yet, for some reason, your heart wavers. What were you even doing? Never had you doubted yourself once, sometimes even finding pleasure in the wicked cutthroat words you'd spew, but today, as his face stands dangerously close to you, his breath ghosting over your lips as his eyes roam over them and you count his wrinkles, it feels wrong.

"'S that what 'cha think, doll?" he chuckles, leaning forward. His lips barely brush against yours by mistake, yet it's enough to send shivers all over your body. "Wanna know what I think? I think you're da' real pathetic burden here. Fucken annoyin' and unuseful. All you know how ta' do is complain' and be a bitch"

"A bitch?" your voice is loud as your roar back, probably because it's coming into your face with the force of a train. But that's how truth feels, and it hurts like hell. "Did you just call me a bitch?"

He laughs, bitterly so, equally irritated as fascinated by how easy it's to see you crumble.

Joel made you out to be this unbreakable force, but at the end of the day, you're human, just like him.

"And y'called me pathetic, s' I guess we're even"

You look crazy: hair disheveled by the wind, chest going up and down and that same craze look on your eyes.

"Fuck you, Joel Miller" you seethe.

It's a simple comeback. No witty retort, no elaborated plot. Just four words, yet it's the way you said it, venomous, with such hostility, like his presence alone made you sick. Your skin crawl. Like the thought alone of being equals couldn't pass through your thick skull, and you had to get rid of just the concept; an ofense.

You pull back, realizing how truly close you were. You then march to the bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

With Joel, there's always a first when it comes to you.

(The first man to catch your attention. The first man to show lack of interest or amusement to your well-known tactics that worked every time. The first man to make your skin crawl like seeing yourself in the mirror. Like you would stare until your image would imprint on your brain, and you'd pick apart every small detail you don't like about you. That was Joel fucking Miller, rolling like thunder, ready to strike over your walls, like he knows where to hit to make you crumble, as if the façade you've built is as much in vain as the hate you carry even with the easy life that's been given to you)

He may be the first man to make you cry.

"Come here!" he shouts, roaring voice reverberating against the walls of the cabin. He swings the door of the bedroom open, finding your satisfied expression as you sit over the old worn out mattress, wiping your tears quickly with a harsh tug of your sweater, coat lying on the dirty floor.

"What?" you ask, as if you hadn't started the fight five seconds ago.

"Ya' think y' can shout and then leave like that?" he spits, "you fucken brat!"

A weird wild spark settles in the pit of your stomach.

"I can do whatever I want"

(The fire. It burns)

He scoffs at your childish response. "Not when y'er under my watch. Like it or not, y'r ma' damn responsability, kid"

Now it's your turn to sneer. "Don't call me that. I'm not a kid"

Of course you fucking weren't: he's got eyes. But goddamn, didn't you act like one all the time?

"Good" his voice adquires a weird tone to it, dropping. "Then strip"

It's like the air's been knocked out of your lungs.

You scoff. "Excuse me?"

"I know you ain't deaf" tone stern, "nor stupid. Are you?"

"Did you just call me stupid?" you raise your voice. Was he going to pull out every single insult from the book? Fair, you think, after you had told him to fuck off in the way you did.

(You were aware your words shoot to kill when you were mad. You had a lot of regrets about that)

"I asked 'cha if ya' were. If there's no answer, I s'ppose that's it"

"I'm not stupid" you counter.

"What?" he's asking you to say it again, like he hasn't heard you.

"You aren't deaf" you repeat his earlier words, eliciting a chuckle out of him.

The windows of the cabin rattle, the cold winter slipping inside the cracks. You shiver yet stand still, not wanting him to misinterpret your body language.

As if you'd ever surrender to him. As if.

"I'm sick of your bullshit" he seethes, "thinkin' ya' can make a clown outta me infront of everyone else, and then look at me like I'm sum piece of meat. Now it's your turn"

"My turn to what?" but this time, your voice wavers. You walk closer, eyelids fluttering.

His uneven breath condensces in the air with a shaky gelid exhale.

"Y'e don't know what you're gettin' into" he warns.

You smile at his barely contained temper. "I think I do"

Joel's body is completely surrounding yours in the bedroom. Before you register, he pulls you by your jaw with his hand.

"Still thinkin' that?" he mocks, thumb pulling your bottom lip down, forcing your mouth open. "Answer me"

But he's pressing his finger on your tongue. You feel yourself starting to drool.

"Ya' really want 'tis, don't 'cha?" his eyes darken, "droolin' like a fucken cockstarved slut. Now strip" his grip tightens, "I won't ask again"

Your body shivers, but no longer because of the temperature drop. A treacherous jolt runs in between your legs at the very first instance of someone putting you in your place. It feels too good to backtrack, but the last remaining drops of sanity plead you to quit.

"Joel" you say his name like a prayer, and he thinks he'd like to see you beg. "I was fucking around-"

"Don't make me repeat myself"

You sit on the edge of the bed, getting rid of your clothes. It's like your mind has stopped working and your body belongs to someone else.

But you want this. Fuck, you had begged for this: sharpening your knife to make your words cut deeper with him until the bleeding was too big to ignore.

You wanted this. Craved it. Needed to satisfy whatever foreign feeling you'd now attribute to your rebellious and spoiled nature.

(You had never been denied anything, and even now, Joel knows this, but can't help and too give in)

"Not so loud now, are we?" he jests, "but 's worth the view, lettin' 'cha run your spoiled tongue off"

He hums with approval at the sight of your body, your pliant energy making his hard cock twitch in his pants.

"You like what you see, Joel?" you ask softly, despite your resistence.

He groans at that, calloused digits grazing the soft skin of your virgin collarbones.

"I do, princess" he answers, lifiting your chin up. "I'll show ya'"

He takes your hand into his bigger one, moving it right onto the spot between his legs.

"You've been bad, little spoiled brat" Joel's voice rasps as your thighs rub together. Y'er lucky I like that"

He pats your cheek. "Wanna make it up to me?" you eagerly nod, desperate for Joel's approval. You hate not having the upper hand, and a part of you thinks you'd get it back if you behave well. "Good girl. Now sit"

He sits next to you, patting his thick thighs. You salivate just at the thought, moving your body over his denim clad lap. "Right'ere"

"Look at 'cha" he parts your legs, a hoarse tks falling from his lips. Joel chuckles at the wet mess that's created. "So fucken wet and I ain't even touched yet"

You feel his rough digits ghost over your dripping cunt, just as his lips had done minutes ago. The teasing sets you on edge, thrill coarsing through your veins. Without warning, his big palm slaps against your cunt, and you feel yourself soaking your folds like you had never ever before.

"Fucken dirty whore. You ain't no princess, gettin' wet to 'tis" he mocks, "what would daddy say"

"Shut up" you sneer, but your body is full of hormones and treason.

"Not when I'm above 'cha, darlin'. Wouldn't wanna piss me off when I'm the one who decides if 'tis pretty pussy comes or not"

"What makes you think I'll take shit from you?" but it comes out as a whimper. Smack. A jolt runs straight from your pussy, stinging from the contact. "Didn't take it when we where in patrol, why should I do now?"

He laughs, darkly. It's haunting.

"'Cause you want 'tis. And I know you'll be a good girl for me to get it"

You feel yourself dizzy, head spinning as you land on the floor.

"Let's see if I get 'cha to shut up if that dirty bratty mouth of y'rs is stuffed full of ma' cock"

He pulls down his worn-out jeans, getting rid of his belt on a harsh pull. The clinking sound makes you rub your thighs together in a new found anticipation, instead of taking the time to run away from this, whatever the hell this is.

No. He's right.

You want this as much as he does.

(Isn't that the scariest part?)

"Ya' like what 'cha see, y/n?" he's smart to use your same words back, but it's the way he's said your name, like he was always meant to say it, or the angry throbb of his cock, what makes you drool at the red furious tip, dripping with rage and need.

"I think it's your dick who's more excited than me" you taunt, tracing the inner soft skin of his thick thighs. "Practically begging for me to lick it"

His adam's apple bobs.

"Tell me, Joel, when was the last time someone made this pretty big cock feel good?"

"Enough" his fingers grab your hair, pulling you harshly until he drags your mouth onto his cock. "I'm tired of y'er bullshit"

You aren't a stranger, he thinks, with the way you kiss his tip, tongue making a wet circle through the head of his cock. You take him into your mouth, pulling out in a second.

"W-what you do that for?" he asks, breathing rapidly. Strained voice.

You smirk.

"To watch you"

To watch how his eyes had closed as soon as your breath ghosted over his leaking cock, how he threw his head back and gripped the sheets viciously at just your shameless lazy circling. Joel Miller could be in charge, but God, wasn't he touch-starved?

(And for a reason, that was so fucking hot. And, in a way, adorable)

"J-just 'cause I'm-" he cuts himself off, probably out of need or out of embarrassment. "You're not in charge, so don't fuck around with your chances, slut. Imma show you y'r place real quick"

His grip tightens in your hair, forcing himself back into your mouth. Joel was punishing, with the way he's pushing your head down until it was at the base of his cock. You gagged for a moment, eyes closing at the weight of his thick girth on your tongue. 

"Takin' it like a champ, princess. Usin' that mouth of y'rs for good" and then, with a softer tone he adds, "like ya're made for me"

You moan around him as he starts fucking into your mouth, pulling you off quickly, saliva slipping out of your mouth as you gasp for air. 

"Joel" you whine his name, legs pressing together in order to get any friction. 

"Now you beggin'? 'S gonna take more than jus' that, doll" he taunts, but there's a certain wicked softness to the way he traces your cheek as you scramble an attempt. "Try harder, princess"

"I'm sorry, Joel-"

He moves his head, clearly dissatisfied.

"Not Joel. Ya' call me sir when I fuck you"

A mewl escapes your lips.

"Sir" comes out like a faithless prayer, begging to be heard. "I'll do anything, sir, please, touch me"

"Al'ight, but still, it ain't 'nough"

Oh.

The hot tears in the corner of your eyes shouldn't arouse him this much, but the watery promise makes his cock twitch.

"I-I'll do anything, I swear" you beg, the salty tears stream down your cheeks in cascades. "It hurts, Jo-" you whine, "sir, please. Just fuck me goddamit!"

Your once poised voice, now reduced to a whimpering begging mess. Your red rimmed eyes, beginning to puff. It's the way a gloss seems to coat over them, making you look like a doe-eyed deer and not the brat who challenged his every decision and word.

Fuck, isn't he aroused.

"Lookin' so pretty when you cry" he smiles, but instead of wiping the tears, it's his tongue that licks them off your face. "You beggin' that bad to take my cock"

You nod, eagerly so.

"Please, Jo- Just, please. D-don't make me beg" your face feels hot and wet again, "I-I can't take it anymore. Just fucking give it to me!"

"Easy, baby. Can't understand a thing you sayin'" Joel teases. "Where your manners at, besides?"

"Please, sir" he gently pulls you up, humming in satisfaction.

"Goin' crazy over my cock, baby? Y'sure have a nerve to call one pathetic if you gon' act like this, you little brat"

But he is the one moaning when his lips cature your mouth with a fierce impulse, like he wants to devour you whole and swallow your vocals, as to never speak up again.

(But then, he wouldn't hear his name on your sweet albeit snotty voice, and that's a privilege he can't forbid himself from, no matter how annoying you can get sometimes)

"Please" you whisper one last time. He wipes a stray tear with his rough thumb. "I'm yours"

"See, baby? It ain't that hard to shut that mouth of y'rs"

He guides you to the old bed while renewing the kiss, tongues now engaged on a battle for dominance, like even without using your words you'd still need to assert your power over the other. You moan into his mouth when your body slams against the mattress and Joel lands on top, his weight sinking you in the old bed, that creaks.

"I just want to be a good girl for you" you whimper.

"You sure of that? Not gon' be a brat?" and despite his harsh tone that seems to humiliate you, his wandering fingers are gentle with each touch, like if he were to put any more force, you'd break. Joel thinks it's not necessary with you: just with you begging for his cock, he's broken you.

"No, sir" and then you whimper as his mouth dives to the collarbones you had taunted him with before. Joel takes his time, inhaling the musk and savoring the sweet of your skin. Needy whines leave your lips, and he's having the time of his life seeing you surrender so easily, like you had no idea what limits to push, where they'd take you and how you'd pay for that.

"C-Can I touch you?" you whisper, hands itching to tangle on his grey parted hair. He chuckles at the eagerness and tenderness you don't seem aware of.

"S' you can be sweet if ya' want to, huh?" he leaves a fluttering kiss to your chin. "Needy and desperate too. Do ya' want to touch, princess? Remember to use y'r words"

"Yes, sir. I-I want to touch you"

"Thought I disgusted you, hmm? I take you've learnt y'r lesson now?"

"Yes, I've learned. Please, sir, won't do it again" you plead.

"I'll allow ya' to touch, doll" he gives you a smirk, "but 'ts all you get for now"

He lets your hands cling to his coat, taking it off. Then, you proceed to his buttoned shirt, fingers flidding with buttons until you grown annoyed and desperate, pulling the fabric over his head with need.

"Look at 'cha" but there's only adoration, proven so when he starts to kiss the trail of soft skin that goes from your neck to your stomach, making you squirm. "Easy, baby. 'M gettin' down there"

He finally reaches your core, kissing the inner side of your thighs with wet and sloppy lips. His hot breath tingles over your clit, and a beat later, his mouth presses into your cunt, your back arching at the cold contact of his chapped lips against the humid hot of your folds.

You muffle a moan, embarrassed at the whole situation.

"Ain't need to worry 'bout nothin', doll. Nobody can hear us" he grins, tongue flicking your clit. "Wanna listen to your pretty whimpers as I make 'cha feel good"

You cry out of pleasure, the sound escaping past your lips. Joel has a laugh.

"Good girl"

Joel rewards you with another series of minstrations on your bud, licks made with determination only the expert man knows of. He then slides one finger into you, slowly moving it in and out of your soaked trembling heat. 

"M-more" you beg, eager to get more fingers inside you. "Please, more, sir"

You buck your hips to try to get closer to him, meeting his thrusts.

Joel tuts, "What're you doin', spoiled brat? Did I tell ya' to move? You were doing such'a great job... guess I gotta punish you-"

"No!" you shout. "Do anything you want, but touch me, please- touch me!"

He introduces a second finger, raising his brow at the immediate way you clench around him. Joel curls them, robbing another moan out of you.

"Feels good?" you can't answer, as a hard thrust robs another moan from you. "But I'ont want 'cha to think we done, princess. Think I'd let you come, jus' like that? After all's happened?"

"Need you" you tug him closer with your arms holding onto his. "Joel, sir- please"

"Oh, princess" he smirks, "I think you don't know what you askin' for"

Joel grabs his hand around his length, coating the tip in your slicky juices, and then, he presses his length into you in one thrust.

"You're big-" you pant as he gives you time to adjust to his size. Joel then picks up an unrelenting pace that makes moans spill out of you like a fountain, the pace of his thrusts sending you closer and closer to the edge. 

"N-need to-"

"Don't" he seethes. "Ya' won't 'till I tell ya' can"

All you could do is moan, helplessly pinned between his body and the bed. Your whole body shakes in an effort to contain as his hips loose their rhythm, his groans louder as he gets closer and closer to the edge. 

"Al'ight. 'Cause you've been good" his cock drives through your walls with rhythmic melodies. "Cum, princess, but when ya' do, look at me"

You're seeing stars the moment your toes curl and his head falls to clash against your forehead.

(The beads of sweat roll down out of him like trails to follow, and his scarred rugged skin doesn't compare to your soft one, painted with the maroon of his bites and kissing at the skin of your collarbone. The dried up trails of tears. Your begging and desperate voice. His name on your lips)

It only takes a few more thrusts before he spills in you, cock twitching until every last drop of thick hot white cum is pumped into you.

Joel then pulls out gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead before flopping onto you, the mattress dipping even further. With his hand, he removes a stray strand of damp hair, putting it behind you ear with such tender kindness, your heart strings pull.

"In fact, I want ya' to look at me next time y'even think 'bout defying me. See if that mouth of y'ers can talk after 'tis"

A week later, you're back at patrolling.

"Anyone got anythin' to say?"

The group looks at you. You're about to open your mouth, but Joel cocks an eyebrow.

Just like that, and you're gone. Great job, y/n.

"Whatever" you sound meek as you push past him, yet he catches a glimpse of your warm cheeks. "Let's go"

The rest are too stunned to speak, the silence only cut off by Miller's laugh.

"Would 'cha look at that?" he whistles. "Ain't nobody tell ya' miracles don't happen anymore on this goddamn world!"

credits: divider @kodaswrld / gif @chappellsroans

[my-castles-crumbling]

rollercoaster - march 12 - jegulus - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 458

“Do they test these things?” Regulus asked nervously as the line slowly progressed, suspense building minute by minute.

“I’m sure they do,” James answered carelessly. “I mean, Muggles aren’t stupid enough to just put themselves on metal death traps and press a button.”

Regulus grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like airplanes under his breath, but James chose not to acknowledge it. “C’mon, baby,” he said soothingly, pulling Regulus close to him and ignoring the dirty look of a nearby mother. “It’ll be fun.”

“Ah, yes. Death by rollercoaster. So thrilling!” Regulus retorted slightly hysterically. But he didn’t make to leave the line, so James counted it as a win.

The taller boy did his best to tell jokes and make small talk as the line moved, so as to distract his very anxious-looking boyfriend. He lamented that the coaster zooming past them every thirty seconds or so with screaming park-goers wasn’t very helpful, but Regulus seemed to stay calm, if not a little stiff.

It was only once it was their turn that he truly panicked.

“I can’t do this,” the shorter boy muttered, gripping James’s hand like it was a lifeline. “I refuse. I’m not an idiot, Potter, I’m not going to choose to die-”

“People go on these every day, Reg,” James said soothingly, leading Regulus to a seat and helping him to buckle in. “I promise, it’ll be fine.”

“If I die,” Regulus snapped, now gripping James’s thigh so hard he felt bruises form under his shorts, “I will murder you.”

“So will Sirius,” James grinned, grabbing his hand comfortingly.

James, or course, wasn’t nervous at all. He was a bit excited, actually. He’d never been on a rollercoaster before. It looked like great fun. He hoped–

Holy fuck.

Without proper warning, the entire contraption burst into movement, and without a second thought, screams ripped from James’s throat. He had no control over his reaction. He was yelling, cursing, his heart galloping, his stomach in his arsehole, oh fuck, they were all going to die, holy shit, why did he want to do this? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

And then–

Stop.

And as he caught his breath, desperately trying not to cry, he registered laughter near him. Blinking confusedly, he looked to his right, and realized.

“Are…are you laughing?” he demanded, gaping at Regulus.

“That was brilliant!” Regulus gasped, face lit up in a way James would have been utterly obsessed with if he wasn’t still trying not to soil himself. “We should go again!”

“NO!”

It was only after that James found out rollercoasters took pictures, and of course, Regulus bought multiple copies of the image of James screaming his head off, face twisted into pure, unadulterated terror, while Regulus laughed happily next to him.

[trekbec82]

I've lived in Australia my whole life (42 years and counting), and my own gallbladder caused me more pain and suffering than any of our wildlife ever has.

It's really simple if you follow the number one rule of not being a fucking dumbass - if you leave it alone, it will (generally) leave you alone. There are some exceptions to that, but you should still be leaving them the fuck alone, just from further away - unless you're trained and know what you're doing, and are doing it for a good reason, like science.

On a related note, I fucking despise the phrasing "shark infested waters" and "croc infested waters" - that's their home, those waters are human-infested. If you don't want sharks or crocs having a nibble on your flesh, stay out of their house!

Also you should do a first aid course, because knowing what to do if shit goes sideways can save a life. Whether that's bites, stings, drowning, heatstroke, car accidents, or your kid falling out of a tree when trying to see a koala better. Get your first aid certificate!

Getting back to positives though, there's some absolutely stunning landscapes to consider, and I don't just mean the beaches and rainforests (we have both tropical and temperate). Central Australia is made up of several distinct deserts, which are home to both unique biodiversity not found elsewhere on the planet, and people (though not many of those, according to census data). It's not empty - it's just not full in the way cities are, and that's a good thing!

I remember twenty-ish years ago, an American (now former) friend suggested we build desalination plants around the coast, and use ocean water to irrigate Central Australia to make it "habitable". It's! Not! Fucking! Empty! And even if it was, how much damage would it do to the Great Barrier Reef, and other ocean life, to take that amount of water? I shit you not, if I could have strangled him through my dial-up internet connection, he'd be dead and I'd be a convict like some of my ancestors.

Do most people live within 100km of the coast? You bet. But sparsely populated isn't empty. Different isn't necessarily deadly. And when it is, it's probably because you fucked around and now you're finding out. That's on you.

(Did I just realise I barely mentioned the adorable marsupials? Yes. But everyone knows about the adorable marsupials, and if you don't, consider this your cue to go look them up. Also apologies for how rambly this is I just noticed it's 3am.)

I went to an exhibition on the history of migration and colonial rhetoric in Australia and it really helped me to pinpoint my exact issue with the way non-Australians (and. tbh. some aussies) talk about this country

this map is a piece of propaganda from 1921. honestly what shocked me about it was how little of Australia is marked out as “uninhabited”. I have seen maps shared around on this website that basically mark out the entirety of non-coastal Australia as “empty”. fucking colonialists from 1921 were more generous than some of you

the history of colonial Australia is a history of “taming the untameable land”. this has been reinforced through narratives that this country is:

inherently dangerous

uninhabitable

empty

this rhetoric survives in both the way Australia is imagined by non-Australians and in the self-image of Australia. the (white) aussie battler conquers the unconquerable. the outback is imagined as a post-apocalyptic hellscape. our fauna is categorised as uniquely hellish and unwieldy. so when non-Australians make joke after joke about how scared they are of this place. well you can imagine why it fills me with the kind of rage that can only be generated by the understanding that You Are Reinforcing Colonialism

[writeriguess]

Hey darling! Lovely to see you back, your writings were a part of my daily routine as it serves me some comfort for the day! 😌💞

Was wondering if I may request a katsuki bakugou x reader (long term relationship) where the relationship kinda hit a plateau and everything irritated him a lot, however, reader takes in all the (uncalled and unnecessary) mean words said by katsuki whilst trying not to get mean with him either until one day, reader just silently cried and he noticed it, just pause and reflected on his actions and how he has been treating reader lately (ending with some comfort if possible, thank you!)

I noticed you do titles for your writings, if I may suggest; “Haven’t I given enough?” Of course, if you have an alternate title better suited for this, by all means do use it! ☺️

Haven’t I Given Enough?

The days had blurred into routine. Wake up, train, eat, work, sleep—repeat. Somewhere along the way, your relationship with Katsuki had settled into a monotonous rhythm, neither moving forward nor back. It wasn’t like you weren’t happy. You loved him, and you knew he loved you. But lately… lately, everything seemed to set him off.

“The hell are you staring at?” he snapped one evening as you looked at him across the dinner table.

You blinked, startled. “Nothing, I was just—”

“Tch. Then quit lookin’ at me like I did somethin’ wrong.” He shoved a bite of food into his mouth aggressively, shoulders tense.

You exhaled softly, looking down at your own plate. He had been like this for weeks—short-tempered, irritable, lashing out over the smallest things. You had chalked it up to stress. He had always been intense, but this was different.

At first, you tried to brush it off, meet his frustration with patience. You told yourself he wasn’t truly mad at you, just taking his exhaustion out on the person closest to him. But no matter how much understanding you offered, his words still cut.

“Can you stop hovering? I can do my own shit.”

“Damn it, Y/N, do you ever stop talking?”

“Fuck’s sake, do you have to be so damn sensitive about everything?”

Each one was a tiny wound, adding up until they felt like bruises beneath your skin. You swallowed the hurt each time, refusing to snap back, even when his words stung. But tonight, as you sat across from him in silence, something inside you cracked.

You didn’t even realize the tears had started falling until you saw his gaze shift, his chewing slowing as his eyes locked onto your face.

You weren’t sobbing, weren’t making a sound—just sitting there, staring at your untouched plate, tears slipping down your cheeks no matter how much you willed them to stop.

For the first time in weeks, the air between you stilled.

“…The fuck,” Katsuki muttered, his voice quiet, almost bewildered. His brows furrowed, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. “Are you… cryin’?”

You pressed your lips together, hating how weak you must have looked. You shook your head slightly, but another tear slipped free, betraying you.

Katsuki put his fork down with a sharp clatter. You didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

And that was when it hit him.

The way you just sat there, silent, shoulders slightly hunched—not arguing back, not calling him out, not pushing him away—just… taking it. The weight of every harsh word, every frustrated sigh, every unfair remark.

His stomach twisted.

“…Shit.”

He ran a rough hand through his hair, guilt crawling up his throat. When the hell had he become this person? The kind who made you cry? The kind who took his bad days out on the one person who never deserved it?

His chair scraped against the floor as he pushed back from the table. You stiffened slightly when he moved, but before you could say anything, Katsuki was kneeling beside your seat, one of his calloused hands reaching up to cup your cheek.

“…Baby.” His voice was softer now, strained with something raw. “I’m sorry.”

You closed your eyes at the warmth of his palm, inhaling shakily. He had said a lot of mean things lately, but this—this felt genuine.

“I didn’t mean to…” Katsuki swallowed hard, his thumb brushing a stray tear away. “Didn’t mean to be a fuckin’ asshole. I just—” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with me lately. Work’s been… I dunno, shit. But that’s no excuse. You—” His grip on your cheek tightened, just slightly, like he needed you to hear him. “You don’t deserve that. Any of it.”

Your lip trembled. You wanted to say it was okay, that you understood, but the truth was… it hurt.

“…I know you don’t mean to,” you whispered, finally speaking, voice fragile. “But it still hurts, Katsuki.”

The way his whole body tensed at your words was almost heartbreaking. Like he hadn’t fully realized just how much he had been hurting you.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a second before meeting your gaze again. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I—” He hesitated, frustration flickering in his eyes—not at you, but at himself. “I love you,” he said, voice firm but filled with something vulnerable. “I don’t say it enough, but I do. And I swear, I’ll do better.”

A shaky breath left your lips, the tension in your chest easing slightly. Slowly, you reached up, covering his hand with yours.

“…I love you too,” you murmured, voice thick. “Just… don’t push me away like that again.”

His throat bobbed as he nodded. “Yeah. I won’t.”

And for the first time in weeks, Katsuki didn’t just hear you—he listened.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 149

An alternate universe where everything is basically the same, except for that Witchers aren't taught anything about humans, and never truly interact with any. Witchers don't go into towns for contracts. Monster contracts are posted on boards on the outer border of towns. People must check back every day to see if the contract has a knife in it. If it does, it means the witcher is either out fulfilling it, or already has. The witcher will then walk out of the forest with proof of it's kill, you gift them clothing, food, weaponry, sometimes even a steed, and back away slowly. Geralt is a witcher. And the most monstrous of them, if you were to ask him. He has sickly skin, long unnaturally white hair, and those slitted yellow eyes of his. It doesn't matter. Roach doesn't care how he looks, and that's good enough for him. He's hoping this contract will give him some new clothes. He'd even take sewing supplies. His best shirt has a big gash in the sleeve. Which wouldn't normally bother him, he could deal with it, but Roach keeps trying to nibble on it. It's a contract for a bruxa. One that's apparently been causing a lot of issues for some "count." Disrupting parties and attempting to lure people away for the slaughter. Geralt has killed her, and has her head as proof. When he approaches the board with his proof, he sees two humans waiting for him. One of them sneers in disgust, and one of them gasps in horror, tearing up. Geralt presents the head, and then holds his hand out for his reward. The older human shoves the scared one at Geralt. The scared one stumbles as he's shoved, and looks up at Geralt with big, wet blue eyes. Geralt tilts his head and turns back to the older one. That one must be the Count. "Your reward, Witcher." "F- Father!" "Silence, Julian. I don't care what you do to him." The Count turns and leaves. 'Julian' looks at Geralt with fear. Geralt is used to that. Witchers are scary. "I- I thought Witchers only hunted monsters, why did you kill Emmaline?" "...This?" Geralt asks, holding up the head, and the human gags, but nods. "It was a monster. She was a Bruxa. A type of vampire." Julian stares blankly for a moment, before he erupts into laughter. Geralt doesn't usually see or hear laughter very often. He likes when this 'Julian' laughs! Oh, but the laughing turns to sobbing. "I should've known! Of course she didn't like my bloody songs! She liked my bloody blood!" The Julian cries, and Geralt feels awkward. He doesn't quite know how to make a human happy. This would be easier if Geralt were at his camp. He doesn't like being so close to a town. He needs to be in the woods. He scoops up his (apparently) Julian, and throws him over his shoulder and walks him back to camp. Julian is now sitting by Geralt's campfire, still crying, but now it's silent. Geralt sits down beside him. Humans comfort with touch, he thinks. He doesn't truly know. He awkwardly puts his arms around Julian, and it doesn't seem to working.... Aha! Because the tears are still coming! Geralt can fix that! Geralt leans in and licks the salty water away. Julian starts laughing again, and finally relaxes. Geralt did it! He's such a good humankeeper! Having a human around is difficult, but Geralt is quite happy with this new arrangement! Geralt smiles a lot more than he used to. His human is adorable, and he's funny! And Geralt is learning so much more about humans! But sometimes that's horrifying. Geralt learned humans need to eat every day, so Geralt has begun hunting more. Julian didn't tell him this fact, Geralt had to learn it by himself when Julian fainted one day. Geralt also learned that humans are delicate things. Julian tripped over a root in the ground and ended up bleeding! BLEEDING! Geralt nearly lost it, that day. He licked his scratch clean, and bandaged his human, and kept a grip on his arm the rest of the day to balance him. They're sensitive, too.

The night had a light breeze, or so Geralt thought. Julian was shaking, teeth chattering, breaths visible. Hm. Perhaps it was colder than Geralt thought. He drags the human over, making Julian let out an odd "whoop!" sound, and wraps his arms around him. Julian scoots closer before settling, wrapping around geralt.

Humans are also curious. Too curious. Julian followed him on a hunt once and almost got hurt. Geralt shouted at him, immediately felt horrible, and apologized, but made sure to let Julian know that Julian was the one who did something stupid. Geralt thinks about getting a leash to keep his human safe at camp, but he doesn't think Julian would go for it.

His human seems happy! Until he doesn't. All of a sudden he's walking slower, and constantly frowning, and he sighs every few minutes! It's driving Geralt crazy not knowing how to fix it! He's tried all the things that have worked before! He licked him, he hugged him, he let him pet Roach, he made him a bigger portion of food, but nothing is working!

"What troubles you?" "…Hm? Oh, sorry. It's just… I wanted to be a bard. Before." "Before?" "…My father.. Sold me to you, Geralt."

Oh yeah.

"…What's a bard?" "G- Geralt, you don't know what a bard is?" "No." "Why, it's simply the best career out there! At least for me. Bards make music. They travel the continent singing their sweet melodies and sharing their feelings and hope to every townsperson out there. Farmers and nobles alike love a good bard."

Julian twitters on some more about these 'bard' titles.

"How do you become a bard?" "Well, you need an instrument. I had a lute, once. And you write songs in a notebook or journal. And all you have to do is sing them."

Thus Geralt makes a plan. Geralt goes searching for these items, loots here and there, and he believes he has a perfectly functional 'lute' and a journal. Geralt has a journal. It's too full of monsters to be given to his human, though. His human deserved one just for his songs.

When Geralt gave these items to his human, his human started sobbing. Shit! But Julian insists it's "happy" sobbing??? That's a thing? Humans will also cry when happy? Geralt will take note of this.

Geralt's Julian is MUCH happier now! And he makes such nice noises! He sings for Geralt all the time now. He strums his lute, and sings, and when he's not doing that, he's humming, and when he's not doing that, he's excitedly chatting away to Geralt, and it all makes him so happy. His human is happy! He likes his little human friend. And Geralt now knows for sure his human friend likes him back.

"Though it hurt so much at the time, I'm so very glad my father gave me to you. I've truly never been happier."

It appears Julian's last humankeepers were bad at their job, despite being humans themselves. Oh well. Doesn't matter now. Geralt would never rehome him.

Thus comes Geralt's problem. Winter is coming. He needs to head to the keep. He can keep his human alive up the path, Geralt's sure of it. He's skilled in humankeeping by now. But the actual staying part is what scares him. What if when Julian meets the other witchers, he finds one that can keep him even happier than Geralt? What if Geralt loses his Julian!? It's just unthinkable!

[evilincoperated]

I will Fall In love with you, over and over again

Paring: Spencer Reid x gn!reader (No use of y/n)

Summary: Spencer is clingy after prison, and you just want him to open up

Fluff and Hurt/Comfort

cw: Mentions of prison

A/N: My first time ever writing a fic so please be nice, and bear with me. Not Proof Read lol

Spencer was different, well that goes without saying. He had been imprisoned falsely for three months, he didn’t even want to tell you what was happening with him. He was broken. But he knew one thing, he could never hurt you, not you, not the one light in his life. Before Spencer was fairly independent, he wasn’t huge on physical touch, but he didn’t mind it, he just never really initiated it. But now he’s attached to you. Emily made him take a few months off of work, and ever since he got home he’s been like a puppy, always with you. He wants you next to him at all times. He’s always asking to cuddle, always kissing you like it’d be the last time, and he learned how to text better just so he could text you every half hour at least while you’re working. You want to help him, you want him to be honest, tell you what happened, communicate, and let you help. But he never could, he couldn’t taint you, couldn’t risk dampening your light.

It all came to fruition one night. You had just gotten home, and like a moth to a flame Spencer ran to greet you, enveloping you in his arms immediately, like his life depended on it. “Mm, missed you” he mumbled, “felt like you were gone forever.” “It was just an eight hour work day, we’ve been apart longer” you said teasing him, trying to get him to dig into why he’s been so desperate for love lately. “I know.” He waited until you got your shoes and coat off before leading you to the couch, sitting down and gently pulling you down so you could be right up against his side. “How was work? I missed you, I think we need to take a vacation-” He started rambling as soon as you sat down, only stopping when he saw the distressed look on your face. “What's wrong love?” “You hate vacations, you say hotels are germ breeding grounds and that you spend enough time in them as it is.” You look at him and adjust so you’re face to face with him, grabbing his hand. “Can you talk to me, Spence? And I mean talk to me, I need to know if you’re okay, you’ve been acting so different-” “I was in prison love, of course I’m different.” “Well I know, but you haven’t been acting the way the therapists predicted you would.” “Have I ever acted in a way anyone could predict?” He said smiling, trying to lighten the mood. “Spence, I’m serious, I’m worried and you won't talk to me, you’re just always trying to make sure I’m okay, when it should be the other way around. You went through something, not me.” He sighed, “I know, I know I went through something, but I can’t let anything ruin this. You’re all I have left, the only thing I have in my life that I know will never hurt me- not that you’re a thing- sorry I’m not saying this right. All I know is that I can’t risk showing you that I’m broken, you might leave, I’m not the man you knew.” He looked as if he was about to cry. You couldn’t stand it, you kissed him gently, he responded quickly, tenderly kissing you back. “You’re not going to scare me away Spencer. I love you, I don’t love the man you think you should be, I love the man you are. No matter who that is right now. You can always talk to me, always.” You whisper against his lips, before leaving a trail of kisses from his lips to his ear to whisper, “you can trust me.” He swallowed firmly, starting to cry, your heart broke. “I know that logically, obviously I know that, I trust you, I love you. There’s just that part of my brain that says you’ll leave, you’ll see that I’m not worth it.” “You are worth it Spencer, you’ll always be worth it.”

He started crying harder, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, his tears staining your shirt. “I guess, I just don’t want to be apart from you anymore. I spent three months only being able to see you from behind a glass wall, never being able to touch you. I never thought I’d miss just holding your hand, how warm you are. And now that I’m back, I just need to be near you, I need to know you’re there, that you're here with me. And it feels like the only way to do that is to be your perfect man” He sobbed into your shoulder, hugging you tighter. “Hey, hey, I am here. And you are my perfect man, no matter what, or how long we’re apart, you’ll always be that guy.” You start running your fingers through his hair. “And how about this? I’ll take time off of work, but instead of going on a germy vacation, we stay here. We’ll have Doctor Who marathons, watch romcoms, make popcorn, and never leave this apartment unless we need to get something.” You suggested this with a grin, “I’d like that, I’d love that.” He pulled away and kissed you gently, putting his hands on your face. “I’ll call my boss in the morning.” And you laid there, just the two of you, for what felt like an eternity.

[cutehoons02]

Speed lovers

*pairing: illegal racer driver Sunghoon x university Girl

*trope: stepbrother and sister/bad boy-good girl

*synopsis: You hated Sunghoon’s family but above all you hated him. Your mother had remarried with Sunghoon’s father and brought you to live with them, against your dream of moving to Paris but there was something even more that you did not tolerate: Sunghoon. It was the representation of the bad boy from fanfiction, cold, cynical and he only cared about him and his illegal racing but you did not know that he had a little sick obsession of you and that you were his favorite little stepsister and loved to tease you and somehow wanted to have you all to himself

*tags: A lot of tension, the protagonist and Sunghoon can’t stand each other, Sunghoon is definitely obsessed with her, they love to tease each other, Sunghoon is slightly a womanizer, description of a car race, lots of kisses, jealousy, manipulation, fake innocent girl, Masturbation, fingering, sucking, unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl) statement, pet names (princess, slut) (idiot,hoon,ice prince) +18,fluffy

12.k (🩶)

(English is not my native language) Jungwon

The front door slammed shut with a dull thud. Sunghoon ran a careless hand through his ice-colored hair as he threw the keys onto the table. The smell of gasoline, smoke, and his expensive cologne still clung to his clothes, the black leather jacket fitting perfectly over his broad shoulders. Another night, another race. Another pile of dirty money was hidden in the secret hideout he shared with his friends, who were also his rivals.

He dropped heavily onto the sofa, legs spread in a relaxed posture, but his eyes immediately locked onto her.

His stepsister was there, curled up on the couch with an iPad in her hands, absorbed in one of her endless fashion websites, while at the same time sketching some of her designs. She was wearing one of those ridiculously short skirts that drove him crazy – and not in a good way. Tonight’s was gray, paired with a pastel pink t-shirt featuring a little bow in the center. Sunghoon sighed, raising an eyebrow.

"Tell me you're at least planning to sleep in pajamas and not in these dresses."

You looked up from the iPad, confused. "What’s your problem now?" you asked, eyeing him.

"Problem? None. But honestly, every time I see you, it feels like I’ve walked into a toy store for little girls."

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. "It’s not my fault you don’t understand anything about fashion."

"Oh no, I assure you, I understand perfectly. It’s just that you look like you’ve stepped out of a '90s cartoon—wait, no, more precisely, from one of those mangas."

You shot him a glare before going back to scrolling through the iPad. Sunghoon leaned back against the couch, propping his elbow on the backrest, looking at you with a mischievous smile.

"What are you looking for this time? Another doll outfit? Or maybe some socks with bows?"

You ignored him. He, of course, wasn’t the type to accept silence.

"You know, I wonder if you dress like this just to annoy me."

"And what if I do?" you retorted, raising your gaze challengingly.

Sunghoon smiled slightly. He knew you liked to play, and he was good at it too.

"Then it means you want my attention." You looked at him, disgusted, and rolled your eyes.

"Not even in my worst nightmares." He laughed. Then, without warning, he leaned toward you and brushed his fingers lightly over the hem of your skirt—a light touch, but enough to make you stiffen.

"You should be careful going out dressed like that." You jerked back, eyes wide. "What the hell are you doing?!"

Sunghoon just smiled innocently. "Just a bit of advice. You know how it is... There are men out there who might misunderstand."

"Oh? And you’d be one of them?"

He didn’t answer immediately. He just looked at you, his dark eyes shining in the dim light of the living room. Then, he slid back into a more comfortable position on the couch as if nothing had happened.

"Me?" He ran a hand through his hair casually. "I’m the least of your problems." You stared at him for a moment, lips pressed together. "Speaking of problems... I know you have a bit of an obsession with cars."

Your tone was light, but Sunghoon caught the suspicious undertone. "So?"

"So… I’ve heard some rumors. People say there’s someone in town who races at night. Underground races. Big money deals." Sunghoon tilted his head, amused. "And you believe every rumor, princess?"

"Not when they involve just anyone. But when they involve you… yeah. I wouldn’t be surprised if, underneath that facade, you’re just a thug."

He was silent for a moment. Then, he leaned in again, too close. His face was just a few inches from yours.

"You know, you could even scare me if you weren’t so adorably annoying and curious about what I do." You blushed slightly at the proximity but didn’t pull back. "And you could seem innocent with that rich-kid aura if you weren’t a damn delinquent."

Sunghoon smiled again, that look of his promising nothing good. "Well, it looks like we’re both screwed." And with that, he stood up, leaving you there, heart pounding too fast and too many thoughts running through your head.

The light from the phone illuminated T/l’s face, Jungwon’s girlfriend and a university journalist, as she scrolled through the videos saved in her gallery.

"Here it is. Look." You hesitated, reaching out, but as soon as the screen showed the images, your heart sank.

The video was shot with a phone, probably amidst the crowd. The neon lights illuminated the asphalt, and the shouts of the people drowned out the deafening roar of the engines. The shaky shot moved to the makeshift podium, where Sunghoon raised a trophy with an arrogant smile. He wore his usual leather jacket, his ice-colored hair ruffled by the wind, and the adrenaline still visible in his gaze. He looked different. Not the usual guy who liked teasing you at home, but someone dangerous, untouchable, and attractive. Then it happened, a girl made her way through the crowd and climbed up beside him. She was exactly his type: long legs, tiny shorts, heavy makeup. The opposite of you.

He barely looked at her before she took his face in her hands and kissed him. The entire crowd screamed in delirium as if it were a scene from a movie. Sunghoon let her, even kissing her back for a few seconds, before pulling away with an amused smile, and your stomach tightened. You rolled your eyes and handed the phone back to T/l.

'Don’t tell me you’re jealous,' she said, laughing, raising an eyebrow and offering a mischievous grin.

"Me? Jealous?" you forced a laugh. "Please."

Yet, there was something that bothered you. Not because you wanted Sunghoon—he was your damn stepbrother—but the thought of him letting those girls touch him, girls so different from you, sparked an inexplicable irritation inside you.

'It’s not exactly the safest place in the world, you know? The first time I went, if it hadn’t been for Jungwon, I would’ve been busted by the cops. Those races aren’t just races. People bet, there are fights, and the police could show up at any moment... Sunghoon’s one of the best, but it’s still dangerous, and he’s not the type of guy you should be with.'

You looked away, biting your lip. Dangerous. That word described Sunghoon perfectly.

That night, at home, you couldn’t stop thinking about that video. You were sitting on the couch, knees drawn to your chest, still wearing your usual skirt and a white hoodie. You stared at the black phone screen, almost afraid to open that video again.

"Are you always this thoughtful, or is it just when I come home?"

You jumped. Sunghoon was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, a smile somewhere between amused and suspicious. His hair was still messy, and his dark eyes shone under the dim light of the living room.

"What do you want?" You tried to sound indifferent.

"You." — he replied, chuckling when he saw your shocked expression. "Calm down, I’m joking. But seriously, what’s going on with you?"

You hesitated. Should you tell him you knew about the races? About the video? And the illegal things he did every weekend?

"Nothing," you said with a forced smile. He raised an eyebrow. He didn’t believe you and slowly moved closer until he sat down beside you on the couch. He stretched his arm over the backrest, leaning in slightly, and now you were too close to him.

"You’re always so strange, but tonight, it’s even worse."

"I’m not strange," you said, glaring at him. He leaned in even more, bringing his face closer to yours. "Then why won’t you look me in the eyes?"

You swallowed. Damn, he always knew how to make you uncomfortable.

"I don’t have anything to say to you, why should I look you in the face?"

"Oh no?" — he tilted his head. "What if I told you I know that you’ve figured me out?"

Your heart skipped a beat. "What am I supposed to have figured out about you?"

"Come on, princess, you’re not good at hiding things. You paled as soon as I looked at you."

You bit your lip, trying to stay calm. Sunghoon was too smart not to realize that you knew something.

"I saw a video." He tensed slightly, but the smile didn’t fade. "Which one of many?"

"Of you on the podium." You saw him clench his jaw, his gaze darkening.

"While you were getting money with that girl." Silence. Then, suddenly, Sunghoon burst out laughing.

"Wait..." he ran a hand through his hair, confused but amused. "Are you telling me you’re mad because you saw me with a girl and not because I race and take money illegally?"

"NO!" you answered quickly, too quickly.

"Sure, sure. Then explain to me why you have that face."

"Because you’re disgusting, that’s why!" He stopped, raising an eyebrow. Interesting. "Oh really? Why should I be disgusting? I’m 22, everyone our age does things!"

"You go around kissing those... those..." You were searching for the right words, but you were too angry.

"Those?" he leaned even closer, his face only a few inches from yours. "Tell me, princess, how would you define them?" You felt trapped. His gaze was burning, amused, and provocative.

"It doesn’t matter." You looked away. He tilted his head with a devilish smile. "You know, I didn’t think you were the jealous type."

"I’m not jealous." He laughed again because you were so small compared to him.

"Oh, sure you are, you’re adorable when you’re annoyed."

"Fuck you." He shook his head, amused, before leaning in and whispering in your ear:

"You’re too sweet to say such words." A shiver ran down your spine. Damn Sunghoon, and whoever invented him. You stood up from the couch and went to your room, which was the only place in the world where Sunghoon never entered. It was as if he were afraid to step into that sanctuary of innocence that was your bedroom, and if he ever did, he would ruin you and bend you to his sick, twisted pleasures.

"Tell me again, why am I doing this crazy thing?"

You were standing in front of the mirror in T/l's room, nervously tugging at the hem of your skirt. She, on the other hand, was completely at ease, sitting on the bed as she applied lip gloss to her lips.

'Because you're curious.' she replied with a mischievous yet friendly smile. 'And because you want to see for yourself if your brother is the racing devil.'

You turned sharply and threw a pillow at her face. "He's not my brother."

'Oh, sorry. Your stepbrother, with whom you've been living for two years and who can’t stop giving you dirty looks and would like to make you his, in any way possible."

"He doesn't give me dirty looks! And he doesn't want to make me his. If I didn't exist, that'd be better for him."

'Sure, right. We all know he has a soft spot for you and has seriously told you not to mess around or behave badly because sooner or later, he'd find out.'

You huffed, avoiding a reply. You weren’t there for Sunghoon. You just wanted to understand why those races had such a dangerous allure for him. When you arrived at the parking lot, Jungwon was already there, leaning against his car with his usual cheerful smile.

-Finally! I thought you were gonna bail on me- he said to T/l, hugging her and kissing her on the forehead. Then he turned to you with curiosity. -And this is your friend?-

T/l nodded, smiling. 'Yes! It’s her first time coming to a race, so try not to scare her.'

Jungwon laughed while fastening his seatbelt and kissed T/l lightly on the lips. -Don’t worry, you know I’m the harmless one of the group-

And he was right. He had a completely different energy from Sunghoon: cheerful, carefree, respectful, and you could see how he looked at T/l—he was deeply in love with her. He immediately made you feel at ease, without that annoying tension you always felt around Sunghoon. But that calm didn’t last long.

When you arrived at the racing area, you felt your stomach tighten. The air was thick with smoke and the smell of gasoline, the neon lights illuminating the faces of strangers, all with the same excited and adrenaline-hungry look. The cars, perfect and shiny, were parked in a line, ready to compete. It was another world, Sunghoon's world.

-Hey, stick with T/l- Jungwon came over and gave you a small hug as if to reassure you. A simple gesture, but so different from Sunghoon. -Jay will be here soon. He’ll keep an eye on you, okay?-

You both nodded, but before he could add anything else, a familiar voice rang out through the chaos of the crowd.

"What the hell are you doing here, Y/n?!"

Your body stiffened at the sight of Sunghoon pushing his way through the crowd, his dark eyes locked on you with pure fury. He was wearing his usual leather jacket, his ice-colored hair tousled, and his dangerous gaze with an aura that exuded charm, but also unease.

-Wow, wow. Calm down, man- Jungwon raised his hands in surrender, confused. -You know Y/n? She’s T/l’s friend-

Sunghoon ignored the question and moved closer to you, grabbing your wrist with a force that didn’t hurt but made it clear he was pissed.

"Come with me."

'Sunghoon, leave her alone! We came together to enjoy the race.' T/l intervened.

"Shut up," he growled, not even looking at her, and Jungwon stepped in front of you and his girl. -Don’t talk to T/l like that, Sunghoon. Do we understand each other? What’s the problem if Y/n comes to watch an illegal race?-

Sunghoon finally turned toward him, a cold smile on his face. "The problem is that you brought my stepsister to a place where she shouldn’t be." Jungwon’s face darkened. He understood everything in an instant.

-She’s...?-

"Yes," Sunghoon replied furiously. He had never imagined seeing you in his territory and hated seeing you so beautiful in the eyes of everyone, especially dangerous people.

Jungwon seemed to bite a curse between his teeth. Then he turned to T/l with a look that said (You should have told me earlier, right?)

'I didn’t think it was a problem...' murmured T/l, uncertain.

Sunghoon laughed, with no trace of amusement. "It’s not a problem. It’s THE problem."

You lifted your chin, trying not to be intimidated. "You’re not my guardian, Sunghoon." He stared at you, his pupils as dark as night. "Too bad you’re under my roof, so it’s my business."

Jungwon sighed. -Listen, man. I didn’t want to put her in danger. I’m keeping an eye on her, and Jay will be here soon.-

Sunghoon scoffed, not letting go of your wrist. He was furious.

"No," he said quietly. "She’s coming with me."

"And what if I don’t want to?" you hissed, struggling to free yourself. He looked down at you, his face coming a little closer to yours. Too close.

"You’re gonna force me to show you the side of me you don’t want to know, bitch."

Your heart was pounding in your chest. Damn Sunghoon. Damn this place. Damn you, for knowing this wouldn’t end well. You jerked free from Sunghoon’s grip, your chest rising and falling with anger.

"I’m not going with you." you hissed, looking him straight in the eyes. "I don’t trust you."

His gaze darkened, his bottom lip twitching slightly as if holding something back.

"Say that again?" he said, glaring at you furiously.

You swallowed. You knew you were provoking him, but you were tired of pretending his possessive attitude didn’t get on your nerves.

"I said I don’t trust you." T/l immediately grabbed your arm, trying to calm the situation. 'Hoon, come on, don’t overreact. We’re just here to watch the race, and Jay will be here soon.'

He didn’t answer. He was still staring at you with those dark, piercing eyes, so intense you felt glued to the ground. Finally, the tension broke when a familiar voice made its way through the crowd.

<<Oh, look who we have here!>> Jay said, approaching with his usual confident smile, a girl by his side. He was dressed similarly to Sunghoon, leather jacket, and dark jeans, but he had a more relaxed, friendly vibe and held Jay’s hand tightly in his.

<<Tonight is full of new faces,>> he commented, looking at you with interest before his gaze shifted to Sunghoon. <<Problems?>>

Sunghoon took a deep breath as if trying to control himself. Then he ran a hand through his hair and responded in a low voice,

"She's with you, Jay," Sunghoon said to the guy with the sharp jawline.

Jay raised an eyebrow, then turned to you and T/l. <<Oh, so you’re under my supervision?>>

"Don’t exaggerate," Sunghoon retorted with a smirk. "I just want to make sure no one lays a hand on her."

Jay stood up, shaking his head, and Sunghoon ignored him, moving closer to whisper something in Jay’s ear. When he approached Jay, his best friend, his tone dropped lower and became sharper.

"Keep an eye on her. If anyone tries anything with her, I’ll make them regret it. But most importantly..." he paused briefly, casting a glance at you before continuing. "I want to know if she’s staring at anyone. If she looks too much at a guy if she smiles too much at someone... if she seems interested in anyone."

Jay suppressed a laugh. <<What are you, her stalker?>> he said, laughing.

"No," Sunghoon replied with a slow, dangerous smile. "I’m the biggest problem for anyone who thinks they can have her."

Jay shook his head, amused. <<You’re really beyond help!>>

Then Sunghoon turned toward Jungwon, his opponent for the night. The two exchanged a glance, mutual respect mixed with fierce competition.

You tried to listen, but the music and the chaos of the crowd drowned everything out.

When Sunghoon walked away from Jay, he seemed more relaxed. He greeted you with that usual malicious smile, the one that only meant one thing: "We’ll talk about this later." You felt a shiver run down your spine.

The air was thick with the smell of gasoline and burnt tires. The crowd was buzzing, shouting names, placing bets, and the engines roared like beasts ready to be unleashed. You were there, standing next to Jay, his girlfriend, and T/l, your heart racing as you watched the cars lined up at the starting line.

Sunghoon was in his car, a Nero Phantom, the name he had given his vehicle. Black as night, with almost invisible dark stripes under the streetlights, it seemed like a moving shadow, a ghost on the road. No one knew how fast it was, except for those unlucky enough to have raced against him.

Jay leaned slightly toward you, his usual sly smile on his lips. <<Ready to see why they call him Ice Prince?>>

You turned to him, confused. "Ice Prince?"

Jay nodded. <<Yeah, Sunghoon is the coldest of them all. He’s not afraid of anything or anyone, not even Heeseung, who’s the strongest around here. While the others lose their heads, he stays ice-cold. He never makes a mistake. And when he drives...>> he gestured toward the track, <<it’s like time stops for him.>>

You turned again toward Sunghoon, who had by now lowered his car window, showing a confident smile before focusing back on the road.

The traffic light signaled the way and in an instant, the cars shot off, like bullets fired into the darkness.

Sunghoon's Nero Phantom took the lead immediately, but Jungwon was right behind, glued to his bumper. The first stretch was a long straightaway, where speed mattered more than technique. Sunghoon’s engine roared as he shifted gears, gaining an advantage over the others.

But then came the first turn. This was where the difference between a good driver and a champion showed. Jungwon tried to pass on the inside, squeezing into the small space left by Sunghoon. But Sunghoon didn’t leave any room. At the last second, he turned with surgical precision, braking later than seemed possible, making the car slide just enough to close the trajectory.

"Dammit... he’s insane," you muttered without realizing it.

Jay looked at you, laughing. <<Told you. He never messes up.>>

But Jungwon didn’t give up. He moved to the outside, trying to cut off Sunghoon in the acceleration, but Sunghoon anticipated him again. Cold. Sharp. Calculating. At every turn, every braking point, he seemed to play with the other drivers, as if he already knew what they were going to do before they did it. He passed with chilling confidence, without hesitation. It was like he was dancing on the road.

The last turn was the finishing blow. Heeseung, who was in third place, tried to attack both of them, risking everything, but Sunghoon did something insane: instead of defending, he let Heeseung pass for a second, only to cut the trajectory and pass him again on the exit of the curve.

'What a son of a bitch...' T/l hissed, incredulous. You couldn’t even speak. It was hypnotizing watching him drive. And when his car crossed the finish line first, the crowd erupted in cheers and applause. Sunghoon Park had won. Again. But while everyone expected him to get out of the car to collect his reward, he did something unexpected.

He got out of the car calmly, his hands stuffed into his leather jacket pockets. His face showed no emotion as if it had just been another normal night. He barely lifted his chin and without saying a word, he gestured for Jay to go collect the money in his place.

<<Wait, aren’t you taking them?>> Jay asked, surprised. Sunghoon didn’t respond, and his eyes were already locked on you. In that instant, you realized that for you, the night wasn’t over.

Before you could say anything, before you could even move, he was already in front of you. He grabbed your wrist, not squeezing too tightly, but enough to make you realize that you had no choice.

"Come with me," he said

"Let me go, Sunghoon!" you protested, trying to free yourself from his grip. But he didn’t slow down. He was stronger. More determined. He didn’t care if you were struggling, didn’t care if you glared at him. He dragged you without any.

"I told you to let me go!" you insisted, trying to plant your feet on the ground.

Sunghoon stopped suddenly and looked down at you, his dark eyes filled with irritation. His expression sent chills down your spine.

"If you keep throwing a tantrum, I might get pissed off," he said, his voice calm on the surface, but there was danger hiding in his words.

You swallowed, feeling your heart pound in your chest. But you would never give him the satisfaction of letting him see that his tone had rattled you.

"You know what? You're just a bully, Sunghoon. You like to boss people around, deciding what I should do when I should do it, and you think everyone should bend to your will."

A sharp smile appeared on his lips as he moved a little closer. Too close.

"Oh, really?" he murmured, lowering his face until it brushed against your ear. "Strange. Because every time I take your hand, you come with me."

Your breath caught. Was it true? Was he manipulating you? Or was it just his confidence that made you follow him as if he knew exactly how to make you do what he wanted?

Before you could respond, you turned to the passenger seat and slammed the door shut with a quick gesture.

"Try to move, and you'll see what I’ll do," he whispered through the window, his tone low and dangerous.

You bit your lip, crossing your arms in anger as you watched him walk around the car and get into the driver's side.

As soon as the door slammed shut, the engine roared like a beast freed from its cage. He didn’t even give you time to buckle your seatbelt.

He slammed the accelerator without warning, and the car shot forward like a missile, making you bump lightly against the seat. The asphalt beneath you turned into a dark river, the streetlights stretching like glowing trails as the speedometer climbed rapidly.

100 km/h. 120. 150. You didn’t take your eyes off him. You weren’t scared.

Sunghoon didn’t flinch.

He glanced at you sideways, his black eyes glowing in the dashboard light. He was studying you.

"Aren't you scared?" he asked, his voice calmer, though the danger was still there.

You raised your chin in defiance. "Should I be?" His smile slowly widened. Cold. Sharp.

"Usually, good girls like you start whining when I go too fast. They beg me to slow down. They beg me to stop."

You crossed your arms over your chest. "I’m not like the other girls you hang out with."

Sunghoon made a strange sound. "Oh, I know that very well."

180 km/h. 190. 200. The engine roared, and the speed pressed you against the seat, but the real jolt came when he turned completely toward you, his eyes burning with something dark.

"You’re not like them… but that doesn't mean you can do whatever you want."

You opened your mouth to respond but didn’t have the time. Sunghoon suddenly swerved and turned the car onto a quiet, isolated side street, away from the rest of the city.

The roar of the engine faded as he slowed down, coming to a complete stop. The only sound left was your rapid breathing.

You quickly turned toward him, ready to shout at him, but you didn’t get the chance. Sunghoon turned quickly and brushed his thumb over your lips. A light touch. But it froze the blood in your veins.

"You've been a bad girl tonight," he murmured, his voice low and dark. "And I don't like that."

For a moment, you stared at him in silence, then a sarcastic laugh escaped your lips.

"Oh? Strange, because judging by the type of girls I see you with, they seem to be just your type."

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, his smile becoming slow and dangerous.

"What type?"

"The ones who come to watch you race. The ones all bold, with skimpy clothes and a deadpan look." You looked him straight in the eyes. "The bad girls who drool over you."

"And does that bother you?"

"Not at all," you said, crossing your arms. It was a lie. And he knew it right away.

"Mmm," he nodded slowly. He was watching you. Analyzing every reaction, then shaking his head with a smile.

"I don't like liars either."

He lowered his gaze. His fingers slid slowly over the bare skin of your thigh, tracing small circles. It was at that moment that your breath truly stopped.

"You see..." he continued in a low voice, his thumb still brushing your lips. "I like having control. And I like it even more when someone tries to challenge me."

You bit your lip, trying to ignore the shiver running down your spine.

"It’s not a lie," you insisted, crossing your arms in defiance. "I wasn’t jealous at all."

Sunghoon studied you with an unreadable look, his black eyes seeming to dig into you. But you didn’t let him win.

"And anyway, you're not even my type," you turned to look at him, and slowly, an arrogant smile curved his lips.

"Oh no? Then tell me, what kind of guys do you like?"

You raised your chin proudly. "Good guys. Polite, respectful, romantic. Not the ones who spend their nights racing down the streets like they're invincible."

Sunghoon’s eyes darkened. He didn’t like what you were saying.

"My ex..." you whispered, but at the same time, Sunghoon heard you, and you didn’t even finish the sentence. Sunghoon moved so quickly that you barely noticed.

He grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

"I don’t want to hear any other asshole's name come out of your mouth," he hissed.

He was jealous. You realized it right away. It was subtle, but you saw it in the details: his clenched jaw, the veins in his tense hands, his strong grip on the steering wheel just moments before.

A shiver of realization ran down your spine. You tilted your head slightly and looked at him with a spark of mischievous amusement.

"Wait a minute..." you murmured with a provocative smile. "Are you jealous?"

Sunghoon didn’t answer. But the way his gaze became lethal gave you the confirmation, and you decided to strike.

"Does it bother you that someone else had me all to himself before you?"

It was a moment. A blink of an eye.

Sunghoon faltered. For a second, he seemed to lose control, as if your words had ignited a fire in his stomach he couldn’t tame, and then, without warning, he crashed his mouth against yours.

The kiss was neither sweet nor gentle. It was fierce, burning, angry.

His lips moved over yours with a searing intensity, as if he wanted to brand you, make you his, erase with one touch the memory of any other guy. He grabbed you by the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair as he deepened the kiss, leaving you no escape.

You lost your breath. It was too much. Too intense, too violent, too much him. His hands never left you, not for a second. One held you firmly by the waist, and the other slid down your back, pressing you against him with an almost desperate urgency.

He was thirsty. For you. For everything that you were. And he didn’t even give you time to catch your breath before biting your lower lip. Hard. Possessive. A muffled moan escaped your lips, and Sunghoon immediately took the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth, claiming you entirely.

"Say my name," he ordered against your lips, his voice hoarse and low.

You looked at him, your breath still uneven. He didn’t want just to kiss you. He wanted to be the only one. The only one to make you tremble. The only one who could push you this far, but you wouldn’t make it easy for him.

"Why should I?" you murmured, trying to hide the frantic beating of your heart. Sunghoon smiled. But it wasn’t a kind smile.

"Then I’ll have to make you change your mind."

And before you could reply, he kissed you again, harder, greedier.

Sunghoon pulled away slowly, letting his warm breath brush against your reddened lips. His eyes were fixed on yours, as black as the night, burning with a satisfied and dangerous fire.

Then, a sharp smile curled his lips. "I’m not your type, huh?" he whispered, tilting his head in amusement. "Strange, because you seemed to enjoy my kiss quite a lot."

Your heart did a flip. That bastard. You turned away abruptly, turning your face to the side to hide the blush rising to your cheeks. Your breath was still uneven, your lips were swollen and warm from the kiss he had stolen so violently.

"What’s wrong? Now you’re being shy?" His tone was provocative, his eyes full of amusement. "Strange, because just a minute ago you seemed pretty… involved."

You clenched your fists. You would never give him the satisfaction of seeing you crumble. "You’re an idiot," you hissed. He shrugged, still wearing that annoying smile.

"Maybe." He reached for the ignition, but before starting the car, he leaned in again, his face only inches from yours.

"I suggest you get some rest tonight," he murmured against your skin. "Because tomorrow, it will be quite a problem for you to look me in the eyes without thinking about what happened."

Sunghoon stayed in the car for a moment after he dropped you off at home. That little smirk still on his lips, you had retreated to your room like a frightened fawn. Too late, too late to escape from him. He knew now you would do nothing but think about that kiss. His touches. His hands on you. Him.

He ran his tongue over his lips, still swollen from the fierce kiss he had given you that had made you tremble. He had felt your breath become irregular, your fingers subconsciously gripping him, and that drove him crazy.

You had tried to provoke him, to challenge him, but he had won, and now, in the days that followed, it would be fun to see how long you would resist before breaking, before admitting that you didn’t hate him, that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

You avoided Sunghoon like the plague: If you were in the living room and he walked in, you’d find an excuse to leave; if you heard him in the kitchen, you’d wait for him to leave before going down. You didn’t look at him. You didn’t speak to him. You pretended he didn’t exist, but he wasn’t someone who accepted being ignored.

That night, your pencil slid across the paper, tracing delicate and precise lines. The clock showed 1:12 AM, and the silence in the house was almost deafening. Your fingers were dirty with charcoal, and your eyes were tired, but your passion for fashion kept you awake.

You stiffened immediately. Your parents were out of town, and the house should have been empty. A shiver ran down your spine, and your heart began to beat hard against your ribs as you slowly stood up from the chair. You grabbed one of the scissors you used for fabric and, with light steps, made your way to your bedroom door. You poked your head out slightly and saw him.

Sunghoon was leaning against the wall, one hand pressed against his side, his face lowered. Blood dripped from a cut above his eyebrow, and his lips, red and swollen, looked like they’d been hit. His white shirt had some dark stains that didn’t look good.

It wasn’t the first time you saw him come back in bad shape, but this time it seemed worse.

“Sunghoon?” Your voice was more uncertain than you wanted, and he slowly lifted his gaze, and despite his battered face, his lips curled into a cheeky smile. “Oh, my little sister is still awake, how sweet.” A knot tightened in your stomach, and you slowly walked closer to him. “What happened to you?”

He sighed and tried to move, but stumbled on the stairs. You instinctively grabbed his arm to steady him. His body was warm, and his scent was a mix of leather, gasoline, and metal.

“There’s no need to touch me, little one. I know you can’t stand me.” You looked at him carefully and sighed because he was acting like an idiot.

“You’ve got blood all over your face, idiot! I can’t just ignore it!”

Sunghoon chuckled softly but quickly stopped with a slight groan. “You know what you are?” he muttered as you guided him to the living room. “A little angel with a sharp tongue, and someone should put you in your place.”

“And you’re an idiot,” you said as you gently pushed him onto the couch, and he collapsed with a heavy sigh. You opened the bathroom cabinet to get the first-aid kit while he watched you with his usual mischievous look.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you snapped as you returned to him.

He raised an eyebrow, amused. “I like it when you worry about me.”

You blushed but tried to ignore him. You grabbed a cotton ball and soaked it with disinfectant. “This is going to hurt.”

“You’re not very gentle, you know?” he said as he watched you touch his face.

You pressed the cotton onto his wound, and he grimaced, clenching his teeth. “Shit… you could’ve at least warned me.”

“I did.” Sunghoon looked at you with a challenging smile. “Are you always this stubborn?”

“Are you always this reckless?” you retorted, continuing to dab at his eyebrow. “What did you do this time?”

He shrugged, apparently unfazed. “Business.”

“Illegal business, you mean.”

“Princess, you know I can’t tell you anything.”

“And you know I hate when you call me that.” He gave a sly smile. “And that’s exactly why I do it.”

You slapped him lightly on the injured shoulder, and he groaned.

“Okay, okay, calm down! You’re violent for being a little princess with cute skirts and bows.”

You shot him a glare. “And you’re really stupid for being a successful pilot.”

Sunghoon laughed, his dark gaze locked on yours. “Admit it, though… if it weren’t for me, your life would be boring.”

“If it weren’t for you, my life would be normal,” you replied, pressing the bandage against his wound. “And maybe I’d be in Paris chasing my dream, instead of spending nights cleaning the blood of my idiot stepbrother.”

Sunghoon stopped smiling. “Paris, huh?”

You nodded without looking at him. “Paris.”

There was a brief silence. Then, his voice dropped lower. “And when were you planning to tell me?”

You looked up at him, finding him more serious than usual. “It’s none of your business, Sunghoon.”

He nodded slowly, then leaned slightly forward, shortening the distance between you. “No, but it concerns me that I want to see how long you can keep pretending.”

You felt your heart skip a beat. “What are you talking about?”

His lips curled into a half-dangerous smile. “You know very well.”

Your heart was in your throat. He wasn’t just a problem—he was the problem. And you knew that no matter how hard you tried to escape, Sunghoon would never truly let you go.

After finishing disinfecting his face, you looked at him and said, “Hoon, you need to wash up. I can’t disinfect you if you’re still covered in blood and dirt.”

He ran his tongue over his lips, the usual provocative smirk still on his face, despite the cut above his eyebrow. “Then strip me.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Not.” He flopped more comfortably on the couch, spreading his legs carelessly. “I’m too tired to move. If you want me to wash, you’ll have to help me.” You bit your lip, unsure whether to answer him or just ignore him. But he knew you too well and knew that eventually, you’d give in. “No way, Sunghoon.”

He raised an eyebrow, licking his lower lip as his gaze analyzed you. “Then I’ll wait all night. But you’re not going anywhere.”

You swallowed. He always threw these challenges at you, and you hated admitting that you always ended up accepting them. With slightly trembling hands, you reached for the edge of his bloodstained shirt. You felt his muscles tense under the fabric as you slowly lifted it. Sunghoon didn’t move, didn’t say anything, but his gaze was fixed on you as if savoring every little reaction.

Once you removed the shirt, revealing his warm skin, marked by scratches and bruises, you held your breath.

“Now the pants,” he said, amused. You froze. “You’re a pervert, Sunghoon.”

He smiled slyly. “And you’re adorable when you’re embarrassed.”

You gritted your teeth, trying not to give him the satisfaction. Slowly, you unbuttoned the pants and unzipped them, carefully avoiding looking him in the eyes. You slid the jeans down his legs until he was left in just his tight Supreme boxers, tight enough to make you quickly look away.

You stood up abruptly, your cheeks burning. “I’ll go get your bath ready, come wash up.”

He got up calmly, walking toward the bathroom with a confidence that irritated you. You watched him enter the bathroom, and he looked at you when he put his hands in his boxers to pull them down. You quickly looked down at the floor, finding it very interesting while he stepped into the bathtub. You bit the inside of your cheek. You needed to leave immediately, but as you turned to go, he whispered:

“Stay here.”

His voice stopped you before you could reach the door. You slowly turned around. “Why should I?”

He leaned against the edge of the tub, his messy hair falling into his face still dry, his gaze darker than usual. “Wash my hair,” he said as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

“Sunghoon—”

“Don’t bother saying no.” You huffed, crossing your arms. “You know you’re unbearable, right?” He chuckled softly. "And you know that, if someone other than me asked you, you’d do it without complaining."

You couldn't agree with him, but you knew you’d never deny help to someone who was hurt. You approached the tub, kneeling next to him. Your hands sank into his hair, and slowly you began to lather it. It was soft under your fingers, silent. It was so rare to see Sunghoon so calm. All you could hear were your breaths and the faint sound of the water flowing.

Your fingers moved more gently, massaging his scalp. He closed his eyes, tilting his head slightly towards you. Then, a sound made you stop—a moan. He whispered your name, almost as if it slipped out of his lips, and you stiffened, your heart pounding in your chest. Only then did you understand why he had loved making you moan his name that night of the kiss? It was a sound that went under your skin, that made something tremble inside.

After washing his hair and leaving him there to relax, you returned to your room, your heart still racing from everything that had just happened. You sat on the bed, trying to catch your breath. Why did Sunghoon always put you in such uncomfortable situations?

After a while, you heard the door open. Sunghoon entered the room, with only a towel draped over his shoulders and sweatpants hanging low on his hips. His silver hair, still damp, fell over his eyes, giving him an even more disheveled and sexy look than usual.

Without saying anything, he sat on your bed, grabbing the hairdryer from your nightstand.

"Dry my hair," he said, taking the towel off his shoulders. You swallowed at the sight of his toned body and stared at him, wide-eyed.

"Sorry?" He lay back slightly, resting on one elbow and crossing his legs as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "You washed my hair, now finish the job."

You huffed, crossing your arms. "You're acting like a spoiled child, Sunghoon."

He smiled to the side. "And you like a good, caring little sister."

"I'm not your damn little sister." His eyes lit up with mischief. "No? Then why are you so cute when you take care of me?"

"You're impossible," you said, staring at him.

He chuckled and waved the hairdryer at you. "Come on, hurry up."

You sighed heavily, grabbing the dryer and turning it on. You approached him, trying to keep a safe distance, but in an instant, Sunghoon grabbed you by the waist and pulled you onto his lap.

"Hey!" you protested, trying to wiggle free. He held you in place with one hand on your back. "This is more comfortable."

Your heart raced in your chest. You could feel his breath against your skin, his big hands resting securely on your hips. Why did he always play with you like this?

You tried to ignore the heat you felt everywhere and began drying his hair. Your fingers moved delicately through his locks, and Sunghoon closed his eyes, enjoying every touch. After a while, a satisfied sigh escaped his lips.

"Your hands are magical, you know?" he murmured, with a small smile.

You blushed slightly. "Shut up." You turned off the dryer and tried to get off his lap, but his hands stopped you immediately. He looked you straight in the eyes, his gaze now deeper, more serious.

"Where do you think you're going?" You swallowed. "I’m done." He shook his head. "I’m not."

And before you could understand what he meant, his lips crashed onto yours again. A hungry, possessive kiss. As if he had been waiting for that moment for far too long. His hands gripped your hips firmly, pulling you even closer to him, making you feel every tense muscle beneath you. You moaned against his mouth, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, nibbling your lower lip to make you shudder.

"Tell me," he whispered between kisses, his voice hoarse. "Can I make you feel good?"

Your brain is short-circuited. "W-What?"

"You took care of me, now let me take care of you." You bit your lip, feeling the heat spread everywhere. You had never seen Sunghoon so intense, so focused on you, and part of you wanted to run away, but another part was tired of denying what you felt for him.

"Yes..." you whispered barely audibly. Sunghoon smiled against your lips. "Good girl."

Sunghoon made you lie in your bed and your breath was broken, your heartbeat gone mad. Every inch of your skin burned under his attentions, Hoon licked, bit, left marks on your sensitive skin, every bite a mark, every sound that escaped from your lips a further victory for him and laughed against your breast, licking it with exasperating slowness. "So sensitive... and I haven’t done anything yet," he said as he nibbled lightly on your sensitive bud full of his spit. His voice was a harsh whisper, almost a restrained roar. His dark eyes shone with mischief and desire and he touched your chin, forcing you to look at him. "Tell me, what would you do if you saw my cock? Or even worse..." he stooped down, nibbling at your abdomen as his fingers fiddled with your pajama strap, "if it was already inside you?"

A shiver ran through your back when with a single tug he stripped you of both pants and panties. You heard him whistle softly, his eyes fixed on your wet and pulsating center. "Christ, look how you shine... you’re all for me, aren’t you?"

The tip of his finger traced a slow path along your folds, the touch light but devastating. When he pinched your clitoris, your body bowed against him, the fingers sinking between his ice-colored tufts and groaning at his name.

"So responsive..." he whispered, almost amused, before licking you with an exasperating delicacy. "Tell me, do you want me to continue or should I stop here?"

He didn’t even give you time to answer before a finger slid into you, causing you to hold your breath. Hoon grinned at your skin, the eyes burning with pure worship and perversion.

"Damn, I love the way you hold me..."

You said in a low voice "Oh God..." When you felt his tongue biting and licking your clitoris but at the same time pumping into your center your mind was completely clouded.

Hoon wouldn’t stop sucking your clitoris, his sinful tongue playing with you with exasperating slowness, almost as if he wanted to see how far you could resist before begging. The truth? You wouldn’t last much longer.

"Are you feeling well, princess?" His husky voice vibrated against your sensitive skin, making you shiver. "Because you seem to be on the verge of going crazy..."

Asshole. He knew you were on the verge of pleasure and was enjoying every second of your surrender.

You felt him smile at you as he stuck another finger into your hot and pulsating flesh, increasing the rhythm of the thrusts. The contrast between his tongue working on your clitoris and his fingers filling you slowly made you lose control.

"H-Hoon..." your groan was almost a hiccup, fingers clinging to his silvery hair in a desperate attempt to restrain you.

"Mmmh, I love the way you say my name when you’re about to come."

Those words were your ruin. Your body bowed, shaken with pleasure, as you came violently between his lips and fingers. He held you still as you enjoyed every spasm of your orgasm, his gaze glued to you as if he wanted to imprint in his memory the image of you so vulnerable under him.

"Damnation..." he whispered, passing his tongue over your moist lips, his eyes shining with something primordial. "You’re so small, so helpless beneath me... I could take you any way I want."

A shiver ran through your back. The way he said it... the confidence with which he spoke as if it were already written in the destiny that would happen. And you knew he wanted it as much as you did.

You bit your lip, your heart still hammering in your chest as you looked at it with your eyes half-closed. "Then why don’t you?" Whispers, your tone a challenge veiled by sweetness.

Hoon chuckled softly, but his eyes became darker. He approached you, making his body adhere to yours, and the contact of his erection against your skin still hypersensitive made you shudder.

"Not yet." His whisper sent a shiver down your spine. "When I make you mine, I want you to be able to think of nothing but me."

That promise made you tighten your thighs, the desire to be dangerously rekindled. " Presumptuous." You mumbled, trying not to show how much those words had struck you.

But then you noticed something that made you come back to reality: his eyes, still lucid from the pain of the fight. Although his body was strong and imposing, the wounds on his face and arms reminded him that he was not invincible. You bit your lip, then, without thinking, you pushed it slowly on the bed, making it lie down.

"What the hell are you doing?" he mumbled, raising an eyebrow as your breath tickled his skin. You looked down at his wounds, then met his eyes again, and smiled at him, sweet but with a touch of malice. " I’m taking care of you..." whispers, lowering yourself to leave a light kiss on a scratch on his jaw. "Once again."

Hoon snorted, but he didn’t move. "I don’t need you."

"Shhh..." You put a finger on his lips, making him raise an eyebrow. "I didn’t ask your permission."

His eyes shrank into a dark flame of interest as your lips left a kiss trail down his chest, descending slowly toward the abs. You felt his muscles twitch under your touch, his breath became heavier.

"You know you’re dangerous, don’t you?" he muttered, his voice lower, more scratched. "You drive me crazy," he said with a hand in his still-wet hair.

"Oh, that’s right." And you left another kiss right above the belt of his pants where there was his navel, enjoying the tension that grew in his body.

The sun filtered shyly through the curtains, gently illuminating the room. Hoon slowly opened his eyes, his body still numb from sleep, and the first thing he saw was you. You were sleeping peacefully, your head resting on his chest, your arms wrapped around him in search of warmth. Your breath was calm and steady, and your fragrant hair lightly tickled his skin. For a few seconds, he stayed still, simply watching you. Then, almost without thinking, he lowered his lips to your forehead and left a soft kiss, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

But he immediately stopped. What the hell was he doing?

This wasn’t like him. He wasn’t the type to stop and watch a girl sleep, to be swept away by gentle, instinctive gestures. Yet, every time he was with you, it felt like something inside him cracked.

And that scared him. You were becoming his weakness, but at the same time, his obsession.

Hoon bit the inside of his cheek, trying to push those thoughts away. He carefully pulled away from you, trying not to wake you, and got out of bed. He ran a hand through his silver hair, sighing.

It was better to distance himself a bit, he muttered softly to himself.

After that night, the days passed, and Hoon came home rarely. You tried not to think too much about it, not to dwell on it, but… something felt strange. You felt restless. You had seen him only a few times, but he never stopped to talk to you. No arrogant jokes, no intense stares, no provocative touches.

And that irritated you. Why should you feel like this? Wasn’t it better this way? At least you could focus on your studies and the goals you had set for yourself. But then, why did your heart race every time you heard the roar of a race car? Why did his scent still seem to linger on the sheets?

You needed a distraction, and that’s when T/l, Jungwon’s girlfriend, showed up at your door with a mischievous smile on her lips.

'There’s a race outside the city tonight. Foreign drivers, a lot of cool people, and of course, we have to be there.'

You widened your eyes. “A race? I remind you that last time, Sunghoon wasn’t exactly happy to see me,” you said.

She nodded but enthusiastically said, 'Forget about him, it’ll be worth it. You need to relax a bit, and who cares about Sunghoon? You’ll be with me.'

You hesitated for a moment. It wasn’t your world. Not like it was for Hoon, Jungwon, and the others, but maybe that was exactly why you needed to go.

So, that evening, you showed up at T/l’s place. You were wearing a light blue skirt, short enough to show a bit of your legs, a tight-fitting top, boots that made your figure stand out, and a leather jacket that completed your look.

When T/l saw you, her eyes went wide, and she burst out laughing. 'Wait a minute…' she looked you up and down with an amused expression. 'Where’s the sweet girl I used to know?' You barely smiled, tightening the zipper of your jacket with your fingers, and shrugged, smiling back at her.

Hoon was leaning against his car, the second-place finish well-earned after a brutal qualifier. The roar of the engines rang in his ears, adrenaline still rushing through his veins.

Around him, a handful of girls were trying to get his attention. Sly smiles, hands brushing his skin, gazes full of desire, but he doesn’t even look at them. His eyes were fixed on Jungwon and his girlfriend. Or rather, on you, next to them.

What. The. Hell. Were. You. Doing. Here?

As if having you underfoot at his house wasn’t enough, now you had to step into his world too?

This wasn’t your place, and you knew it well. Hadn’t it been enough to see him pissed off a couple of weeks ago? This wasn’t a place for good girls like you either, yet here you were. The headlights softly illuminated you, making your perfect skin glow. Your hair was lightly tousled by the night wind, and your outfit… Damn.

A light blue skirt. A delicate blue, almost innocent, but the length was a damn provocation. A tight top. Nothing too bold, yet on your body, it seemed like the deadliest weapon.

Boots and a leather jacket. As if you were playing the bad girl and that outfit… looked damn good on you.

Hoon licked his lips, the irritation bubbling inside him. Why were you here? What were you hoping to find? Strong emotions? Risks? People like him?

The race began, and he let himself get carried away. He pressed the accelerator with more rage than necessary, letting the engine scream beneath his fingers. But that night, Heeseung was simply faster, more precise, more strategic. Second place, not bad, but not enough.

Hoon got out of the car, his hands still gripping the steering wheel from the adrenaline. He was ready to ignore the world and grab a drink when his eyes landed on a scene he never should have seen.

You, talking to another guy and smiling at him. He wasn’t a driver, he wasn’t a mechanic—just some random guy who’d come to watch the illegal races. Yet, he was laughing with you, talking to you, looking at you with too much damn confidence, and his jaw tightened, his fists clenched so hard his knuckles turned white.

He didn’t like the way that guy was looking at you. You were his, not in the sweet sense of the word. Not like a step-sister, not like a friend, not like something rational. You were his because he had decided it, and he didn’t care if you hadn’t realized it yet.

With slow, measured steps, he approached you, and the girls who’d been surrounding him stopped laughing, sensing the shift in his aura, and the people around moved aside without even realizing it.

Hoon didn’t say a word as he stood behind you. He just stared at that guy with eyes that left no room for interpretation, and the guy noticed it, his smile faltering. He began to feel the weight of the attention, the air growing suddenly heavier.

Hoon didn’t need to say anything because it was clear. He spoke to you, but also to the guy you were talking to: “She’s not for you.”

And if that loser was smart, he would’ve left before Hoon decided to make him understand in another way.

Because that night, he would find a way to make you remember who the only man who deserved your attention was.

The silence in the car was unbearable. Hoon gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white from the firm hold. His gaze was fixed on the road, his jaw clenched. The engine roared under his control, yet he seemed on the verge of losing his own. You, sitting beside him, could feel your heart beating too loudly. You hadn’t dared speak since he grabbed your wrist and dragged you away from the race, ignoring your protests, but this time, he didn’t stop on some deserted road.

He took you down to the garage of a building, and you knew exactly what it was. The racers’ hideout. You had heard about it, see his friends leave after the races and head to that place, but never, not even in your wildest dreams, had you imagined you’d be brought there by him like this.

Hoon slammed the car into the park, opened the door, and stepped out without even looking at you. Then he walked around the car and opened your door with a sharp motion.

“Get out.” His voice was an order.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding. “Sunghoon, what...”

“I said. Get out.”

The look he gave you sent a shiver down your spine. There was something dangerous about him in that moment, something you had never seen before.

You knew you should refuse, tell him he was going too far, but your legs moved on their own, and before you could even process it, you were already inside.

The inside of the hideout was exactly what you expected. Chaotic, but after a few steps, he pushed you into his room, and you entered hesitantly.

Posters, race photos, pictures of him and his friends, money scattered everywhere, as if it didn’t matter to him. A perfect mess, typical of someone who lived on adrenaline and speed.

But Hoon? At that moment, he couldn’t have cared less about his room. Before you could say anything, he grabbed you by the waist and pinned you to the wall.

“What the hell did you think you were doing, huh?” His voice was low and dangerous, his eyes burning as his fingers traced along your exposed legs.

“Sunghoon,” you said, looking at him.

“No, tell me.” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. “Did you dress like this for me? No, wait...” His smile turned sharp as his hand slid further down, brushing the hem of your skirt. “You dressed like a good girl, but with those little slutty details. Why? Were you hoping I’d notice?”

Your face burned with shame. “Stop! Don’t talk to me like that!”

He laughed a low, guttural chuckle. “Oh, does it bother you?” His fingers traced your thigh with an excruciating slowness. “Because the truth hurts, doesn’t it, princess?”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the reaction your body had to his touch. “You’re nobody to treat me like this.”

Hoon raised an eyebrow, then lowered his gaze to your lips. “NO?” He moved even closer, his body pinning yours to the wall. “Why don’t you seem so sure while you’re saying that?”

He grabbed your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him.

“You know what I want to know?” His tone was venomous, lethal. “I want to know who you touch yourself for at night.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

He leaned closer to your ear, whispering, “I know you do it thinking about me.

You swallowed hard, your heart feeling like it was about to explode. "You're an asshole." He smiled, pleased. "Maybe."

He pulled back slightly, watching you. "So, this is how you get jealous."

"Of who?" You tried to sound dismissive, but the tremble in your voice made him smile even more.

"Of all the girls who flock around me." He moved closer, his lips a breath away from yours. "Say it's not true."

You gritted your teeth. "It's not."

"You’re a terrible liar, little sister."

The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine, his eyes piercing into yours as if he were reading your thoughts. "You know it's true, don't you?" he whispered, his hand gripping your waist with far too much confidence. "You know you want me just as much as I want you."

You breathed heavily, your heart pounding wildly. "And what if it’s true?"

He stifled a groan, his jaw tightening as his fingers dug into your hips. "Christ..."

For a moment, you thought he was going to kiss you, but then, he pulled away abruptly and ran a hand through his silver hair, as if trying to regain control.

"Go home," he said finally, his voice low and dangerous. You looked at him, stunned by his words, and whispered his name.

"Now," he ordered, his tone commanding. You couldn't take it anymore, couldn’t endure his games, his unpredictable behavior, the way he drove you crazy with desire only to push you away as if nothing had happened. You couldn't stand seeing him with other girls, couldn't hold back what you felt anymore. You'd liked him since the first day you saw him, and without thinking twice, you grabbed him by the collar of his leather jacket and kissed him. It wasn’t a sweet kiss, nor a shy one. It was fierce, full of frustration, need, and possessiveness. Sunghoon groaned against your lips, caught off guard for just a second. Then he recovered, and in an instant, his hands slipped under your skirt, gripping your ass hard enough to make you gasp. With a swift motion, he lifted you, making you wrap your legs around his waist as he pressed you against the closed door of his room.

"Finally..." he hissed against your mouth, his lips still tasting of your desire. "You took a fucking century."

His voice was hoarse and dark, the tone of a real bastard.

"Shut up," you muttered, laughing slightly. He paused for a second, then bowed his head. "What did you say?"

You shivered down your spine, but you didn’t back off. "I said shut up." Sunghoon smiled. That sharp smile, the one that made your legs tremble.

"God, you’re such a little bitch, aren’t you?" his hands squeezed your flesh even more, making you bite your lip. "A good girl with a big mouth. I wonder if I can find another way to use it or to silence you."

That comment made your blood boil, and you decided to punish him in the best way possible. You rubbed against him your body was slow and decided against his cock.

The reaction was immediate. You felt his erection harden against you, the electric tension in the air became unbearable and you bit your lip, looking at it with an innocent air. "Do you like it, Hoon?"

He puffed, shaking his head with an exasperated smile. "Princess, you have no idea what you’re doing." You kept moving. More pressure, more friction, and then, you felt it, a low growl from his throat.

Then, a slap on your uncovered thigh. " Enough." His voice was authoritative, with no room for objection but you didn’t intend to stop while you felt the pain but also the excitement grow and you leaned down at his ear, the hot breath against his skin. "What if I don’t want to?"

Another slap in your buttock made you moan and Sunghoon pushed you even more against the door, his heavy breath as his dark eyes shone with pure lust.

"You want to play with me, Y/n?" he growled, his low and dangerous tone. "I guarantee that with me you will always lose." A shiver ran through your skin.

He slipped his hand along your thigh, touching the edge of your panties. "You’re already wet, aren’t you?" You didn’t answer, you shouldn’t already be so wet and in need of him. He laughed. "Oh, don’t you want to tell me? All right."

With a torturing slowness, he stuck a finger under the thin tissue slipped between your intimate lips, and took your breath. "Hoon..."

"What is it, princess?" he whispered, licking your neck as his finger traced slow circles on your clitoris. "Are you speechless?"

You felt as if your body was on fire. His voice, his touch, his absolute dominion over you... was too much and too little at the same time.

You clung to his ice hair, gasping when the pressure increased.

"What did you want from me, uh?" he continued to tease you. "When you kissed me... what did you think would happen?"

"That you would finally catch me." You confessed in a whisper.

Sunghoon moans slowly, his breath broken against your skin. "Christ..." He brought you down from him, his chest heaving up, his fingers still pressed against your hot skin. Then, without saying anything, he hit you with a strong slap on the butt and moans, a mix of surprise, pain and excitement. He laughed quietly, smug. "Do you like it, princess?"

You did not answer but he grabbed your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him. "Reply."

Swallowing, heart pounding. "Yes." Sunghoon licked his lips. "Damnation... you’re just as I imagined."

He sat on the edge of the bed and beckoned to you to come closer.

You did not answer but he grabbed your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at it.

"If you would be mine..." his voice was dark, velvety, but with a thread of danger underneath. "Prove it to me."

You took off your white shirt and he whistled when he saw your bra with your already turgid buds and touched it slightly you felt your body shivering and took you by the side and with a click he took off your bra and your breasts you sat down over his legs and felt his cock already hard and you started to slightly swing and he began to torture your buds with his tongue and teeth but Hoon had other thoughts in mind made you lift slightly and felt the fabric of your skirt Pull it down. He had gripped it and pulled it hard, slightly ripping off a flap.

"Hey!" moaning, looking at him with big eyes. "This skirt cost an eye of the head!"

He shrugged his shoulders, totally uninterested. "I buy another."

"That’s not the point!" you blurted out, trying to fix it, he laughed again, his low and dirty laugh that made your knees tremble. " Princess, I win thousands of dollars a race. I could fill your wardrobe with skirts like a good girl... and then tear them all off, one by one."

His fingers snapped to the elastic of your panties, playing with them slowly, without ever lowering them.

"White, eh?" he whispered, looking at the delicate lace. "So innocent even here below..." He looked up, his eyes dark and hungry. " But soon I will ruin you forever."

You felt a shiver running down your spine, his hands slowly climbing up your thighs, just pressing on your warm skin.

"You won’t be a good girl anymore." whispered against your skin, you lifted slightly and settled on the back of its legs, pressing on its hardness still covered by boxers.

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?" You bit your lip, pretending nothing while you started moving slowly over it, gradually increasing the pressure. He immediately grabbed you by the hips, holding you tight. “Don’t play with fire, darling."

But you didn’t stop to feel his erection growing beneath you. You felt how much you were driving him crazy.

"Tsk." Sunghoon laughed softly, but there was tension in his voice. "Where the hell did you learn to be so provocative?"

You approached his ear, your breath touching his warm skin. "Perhaps I had a good teacher."

He pressed you even more against himself, his eyes full of danger and desire.

"Oh, princess..." he murmured, His voice low and threatening. "Now you’ve really crossed the line. In a moment, he had pushed you back on the bed, his body above yours, his dark and hungry eyes peering at you as if they wanted to devour you.

He leaned down on your legs and began to nibble the sensitive skin of your thighs, alternating slow bites and kisses, cruel, full of dangerous promises.

"Laugh, laugh pure, darling." whispered against your warm skin. "Let’s see if you’ll laugh again when you’re full of my cock and cum."

With trembling hands, you took off his boxer shorts and your eyes were running towards his cock which was slightly pink and full of liquid, was long and quite large, and swallowed slightly as you touched him Sunghoon watched carefully every move you made and slightly he rubbed around your vaginal lips and after a little, while Sunghoon was crazy to hear you around him and with one blow almost entered completely inside you and both groan at the feeling of your bodies attached to each other.

When he pushed into you, both groaned in unison. "Fuck, you’re so tight around me..." he panted, moving slowly at first to get you used to its length. You bit your lip, but then whispered: "Move."

He laughed softly. "Always so impatient, eh?" He started pushing harder, and you pulled his hair. "God, you’re beautiful like this," he said between moans. His cock was sinking deeper and deeper into you, and you sucked it back up tight, put your arms around his neck, and kissed him as you felt that you were getting more and more busy.

"Look at you, you’re taking me so well, maybe we should have done it before it’s so nice to see you under me, shoved by my arms and cock" he whispered against your lips as he squeezed His hips to push even deeper into you. "I thought you were better at standing up to me... and instead look how you hold me close as if I never had enough," he said laughing. A shiver through your back and you felt it lift slightly your leg to push deeper into you. When he found your G-spot, you shouted his name, nails stuck in his shoulders.

"There? In here, right here?" he teased you, aiming the rhythm and making you almost lose control. "Who would have thought... that my little stepsister would be so good at taking my dick?

"Hoon..." groan, feeling your body surrender to him. "Go on, I’m close."

He smiled smugly and, without stopping, slid a hand between your bodies to caress your clitoris, stroking it with circular and precise movements.

"Tell me that I am the one who will make you come," he whispered in your ear, with a mischievous grin. "Tell me that no one else can make you feel like this."

The words, the tone, the way in which it dominated you completely made you give up words, the tone, the way in which it dominated you completely made you give up completely, and with a choked cry you came tightened around him, your body shaken by a wave of intense pleasure.

But he had not yet come. With some more deep thrusts, he let his seed and sperm fill you, staying inside of you for a few seconds before exiting with a panting breath.

You felt empty without him, but before you could say anything, Sunghoon pushed a finger into you, making you shudder. "You must hear it well, baby. This is the sign that you are mine."

You watched him with burning cheeks as you felt his finger push even more into his cum and groan "You’re a jerk."

"Fuck." He whispered between his teeth, passing a hand through his unkempt hair before stooping down to press a hot kiss on your lips that kiss he was giving you was a slow, intimate kiss that had nothing to do with domination or possession anymore.

A kiss that spoke only of you two and Sunghoon lay down next to you, dragging you immediately into his arms, wrapping you in a strong, almost desperate embrace. You caress his chest, feeling his breath returning slowly to normal, and then, without thinking, let those words slip away. "I didn’t want to fall in love with you."

His body stiffened for a second and then, a low, dark, roaring laugh invaded the room and you lifted yourself slightly, observing the bold smile on his lips.

"I didn’t want to fall in love with you either, princess," he whispered, his eyes chained into yours. "But we’re both fucked now."

He touched your face with the tips of his fingers, his look softer, more human, and you, without thinking about it, shook his hair with a little smile.

He laughed again, holding you tighter against him.

"Mine”, he repeated quietly, like a promise etched in the skin, and you, this time without hesitation, annuity.

Sleep wrapped you, hugged, trapped in each other, and at that moment, you realized you would never be able to escape from him again.

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[verstappenverse]

The Hardest Goodbye

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Max is about to leave for the first leg of the season, taking him to the other side of the world. You know it’s part of the job, but it doesn’t make saying goodbye any easier.

Authors Note: Wanted to get this one out before the season officially begins! Wishing everyone an exciting year ☺️

1.2k words / Masterlist

The apartment feels too quiet.

Max’s suitcase is already by the door, zipped up and waiting, an unspoken reminder that time is running out. His travel backpack is slung over the arm of the couch, its front pocket half-open, the edge of his passport just visible inside. His phone charger is coiled neatly in the side compartment ready for him to grab at the last second, just like always.

It’s routine. You’ve watched him pack for countless race weekends before, stood by while he double-checked his gear and made sure he had everything he needed. You’re supposed to be helping him do that now, but instead, you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, gripping the sheets with white-knuckled hands.

Max crouches in front of you, pressing a knee into the rug, his hands finding your thighs. “Hey.” His voice is softer than usual, careful.

You don’t look up. If you do, you think your chest might actually crack in half.

“Look at me,” he tries again, squeezing your leg.

You shake your head.

Max exhales through his nose, shifting his weight. “Baby.” His fingers slide under your chin, tilting your head up, forcing your eyes to meet his. “What’s wrong?”

You let out a laugh that tastes like salt. “I don’t know.”

But you do know. Of course, you do.

Because this is the longest you will have ever gone without seeing him. Ever.

Since the day you met, Max has never been away for more than a week or two at most. Even during the longest seasons, there was always a way, an opportunity for him to come back, for you to travel to him, or for the two of you to steal whatever time you could in between races.

But now, he was about to start the first four-race leg of the season, and every stop was on the other side of the world. This time, there was no quick visit, no spontaneous weekday together. You couldn’t take time off work, couldn’t rearrange your schedule. For the first time, he was really leaving, and you had no choice but to stay behind.

Australia. China. Japan. Bahrain.

A month and a half.

You know this is part of his job. You’ve always known. You should be fine with it, should be stronger than this, but the ache in your heart only grows heavier with each minute that passes.

The words clog up in your throat. You don’t want to say them because you don’t want to be difficult, don’t want to be the kind of person who makes things harder when Max already has enough on his plate.

But he sees it. He always does.

His thumb strokes the side of your cheek, and his voice drops. “You wish I didn't have to go.”

You laugh with a small sniffle. “Of course I do”

The corner of his mouth twitches, a sad smile that doesn’t quite form. “You never say that.”

You swallow. He’s right. You never say that. You never want him to feel like he’s torn between you and his job, the job that he loves, the job that he was born for, because he isn't. You would never ask him to choose, never put him in a position where he had to weigh his love for you against the sport.

And you love all of it, the early mornings, the late nights, the constant travel, the adrenaline that keeps his blood pumping even when he’s exhausted. You love the fire in his eyes when he talks about racing, the way he comes alive when he’s behind the wheel, the way he belongs to it as much as he belongs to you.

You know what you signed up for, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything. But that doesn’t mean you won’t miss him. That doesn’t mean it won’t ache every time he walks out the door, or that you won’t wish, just for a moment, that things were different. Not because you want him to change, but because loving him means letting him go.

Max pushes himself up onto the bed next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in, pressing his lips against your hair. “Come with me.”

Your eyes squeeze shut. “You know I can’t.”

His hand tightens on your arm. “You can.”

“I have work Max, this project” you murmur. “It's important. It’s been in the works for months and I can’t just disappear in the middle of it.”

His lips graze your temple. “Can't you push it back.”

You huff a quiet laugh, shaking your head against his shoulder. “It doesn’t work like that. Deadlines and all.”

He exhales sharply, his fingers tracing absentminded circles on your back. “I’m sure they’d survive without you for a little while.”

You press your face into his neck, inhaling his scent like you’re trying to commit it to memory. “Maybe. But I can’t just walk away not now.”

His jaw tenses. “I hate that.”

You sigh, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie. “I know.”

You sit in silence for a long moment. His heart is steady under your palm, but you can feel the tension coiled inside him. He’s keeping it together for you, but you can feel the effort it takes.

“You’ll be back before we know it,” you murmur, unsure who you're trying to comfort more. “We’ll call, we’ll text, we’ll—”

Max pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you properly, his brows knitting together. “It’s not the same.”

“I know,” you whisper.

His eyes wander over your face, as if he’s memorising you. “I wish I had more time.”

You force a smile. “You don’t.”

“I could—”

“Max.” You cut him off before he can finish the sentence, before he can say something stupid like skipping his flight and missing endless duties. “Go.” You try to keep your voice steady. “Do what you do best. I’ll be cheering for you.”

He exhales, pressing his forehead to yours. “I’ll miss you every second.”

You close your eyes. “Me too.”

His hands cup your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears you didn’t even realise had fallen. “I’ll call the second I land.”

You nod.

“I’ll text before every session.”

You nod again.

Max swallows, jaw tightening. “I love you.”

Your heart stumbles, just like it always does when he says it, but this time, there’s something heavier behind the words. Like he’s trying to pour every ounce of emotion into them, make them last through every lonely night and every time zone between you.

You wrap your arms around his neck, holding on so tightly it hurts. “I love you too.”

And then he’s kissing you, and it’s not soft, it’s desperate, needy, like he’s trying to take a piece of you with him.

When he finally pulls away, your breath stutters, and he presses one last lingering kiss to your forehead before pulling himself to his feet.

He slings his backpack over his shoulder, grabs the handle of his suitcase, and hesitates at the door. “One last chance to change your mind and come with me.”

You laugh, shaking your head.

Max sighs. “Okay.” Then presses his lips together like he’s trying to physically stop himself from saying more.

And then he’s gone.

The door clicks shut behind him, and the silence that follows is deafening.

You don’t move. You can’t. Not until your phone buzzes, lighting up with a message that makes your heart squeeze in your chest.

Max: I’m already counting down the days.

[dsabian]

"What is all that?"

Gaius looks up from his counting. Arthur, as is his want these days, has stormed into the apothecary without knocking. Another dubious pleasure to blame Merlin for. The prince never used to take such an interest in the physician's chambers before the boy's arrival.

Arthur has an incredulous look on his face as he takes in the piles of coins and large ceramic jar arrayed on the table in front of Gaius.

"Hello Arthur, I hope your bursting in here unannounced does not mean you're in need of healing? I am fine, in case you were wondering."

The young man looks slightly mollified. "I. No, I'm fine. Thank you. And good. That you're fine."

Gaius blinks. Arthur looks particularly uncomfortable at having been cordial, in his own roundabout way.

Something else to blame Merlin for. Gaius is aware Merlin has been trying to teach Arthur manners and of course that's all for the better, but why it's resulted in all the fumbling for words Gaius will never know. If anyone could find a way to make babbling contagious it would be Gaius' ward.

There's a pause Arthur appears to find awkward before Gaius resumes his counting.

Arthur crosses his arms and frowns at the money. "Are these payments from the sick? I was under the impression you were well compensated by the crown for your work in both the citadel and lower town."

Gaius scoffs slightly at the word 'well'.

"I am compensated, though it is a shame the amount has not increased in keeping with the number of mouths it needs to feed." Gaius pauses for a moment to allow Arthur a little extra squirming, then goes on. "But this is not from my patients. This is my curse jar."

Arthur undergoes a little gamete of emotions as Gaius speaks, Gaius notes. Scowling at the thought of Gaius taking money from the ill, guilt at the knowledge Gaius' stipend didn't take housing a growing boy into account, continued confusion at what the money is for, and finally annoyance at still being confused.

"Every time I curse, I place a coin into the jar," Gaius relents before Arthur can ask again.

Arthur looks mollified for a moment, then confused again. "I've never heard you curse. And that jar is huge, how long have you been adding to it?"

"I empty it monthly."

"Monthly?"

"It used to be yearly. And the jar was smaller. But circumstances being what they are... Actually, I find it a convenient way to save for the more expensive supplies."

It's Arthur’s turn to blink. "But Gaius, all of that in one month? What-"

The prince is cut off by his manservant skidding into the room. Merlin is bootless, caked in mud, flushed with excitement and with an all too familiar glint in his eye. "Gaius!" he calls before even coming to a complete stop, "I need-" He cuts himself off as he finally notices Arthur staring at him in bewilderment. "Oh, hello Arthur. Um, funny thing happened on the way from the market, but don't worry the horse is fine and I can definitely get the cloak back. I just have to check something with Gaius."

Arthur's eyes meet Gaius' as the older man silently takes a few coins from the nearest pile and drops them back into the jar. Then Gaius watches Arthur’s brain catch up with what Merlin has said.

"Cloak? My cloak? Wait, what horse?!"

this interaction got me cackling sjisdjkidj

S4 E09

[emsdevs]

Priorities

a/n: this was not requested. it was just something i needed for myself and i thought why not share with you all as well. yes this is inspired by true recent events. yes I'm okay with it. i don't have a luke but i do have a kirby! I'm all good now! also i promise the step dad!jo au is next!! 🩵

masterlist | NHL Masterlists | Luke Hughes Masterlist

“Woah, you’re still here? Is she running late or something?” Luke is surprised to see you still in the apartment, knowing you had made plans with a friend tonight. You turn to face him, and in an instant, he sees the hurt in your eyes and the disappointment on your face. “Oh, no. Did she cancel again?”

All you can do is nod, and Luke is quick to move in and envelope you in a hug. Soon, he feels you start to shake against his chest, and he knows the tears have set in. He maneuvered the two of you toward the couch, laying himself down and placing you on top of him. When the tears finally stop flowing, he asks if you want to talk about it.

“It’s just- It’s the second time she’s cancelled in two days. I mean, is it something wrong with me? Does she just not want to hang out with me?” you have to fight to keep the water works from coming on again.

“No, sweet girl. No. If she thinks like that, she doesn’t deserve to be your friend. What can I do to cheer you up? You wanna watch a movie?”

“Can we? Please.”

“Of course, sweetheart. Let’s go get changed into some comfy clothes, and then, we’ll watch whatever you wanna.” He manages to get you into your shared bedroom, so the both of you can get changed. Suddenly, though, you whip around, a look of worry on your face.

“Wait, I thought you were going out with the boys tonight. You need to get ready to go with them.”

“The boys will be fine without me for the night. I’d just be thinking about you if I went anyway.”

“No, Luke. Then you’ll be doing to them what she did to me.”

“No, baby, I won’t. The difference is that my priorities make sense. They’re my teammates. I see them on a daily basis. I know for a fact it’s no big deal if I miss one night out to take care of my girl. She hadn’t seen you in months, and this would have been your only chance to catch up with her for who knows how long. That’s just disrespectful to you and your time.” 

He doesn’t give you any room to argue, so you just nod and continue on your previous mission to get comfortable. Once you’re both cozy, you make your way back to the couch resuming your positions from earlier, with your head laying on Luke’s chest.

“What do you wanna watch, sweet girl?”

“Sweet Home Alabama?”

“If that’s what you want.” He complies easily, content to do whatever will cheer you up. 

You two spend your night going through a random assortment of chick flicks, chiming in with random comments and critiques now and then. Nights like this with Luke always seem to make you forget about any worry you might have, and by the morning, you’re almost able to forget that you had other plans for that night at all.

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[angelltheninth]

Saw your post about Arcane sapphics, could I request the same characters with them reacting to being readers first serious relationship?

No problem Anon, I love all of those characters, feel free to send in more requests for them.

Pairing: Vi, Caitlyn Kiramman, Maddie Nolen, Sevika, Ambessa Medarda x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, developing relationship, casual to serious relationship, first kiss as a couple, teasing, slightly suggestive

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: I bring sustenance for the wlw part of the Arcane community!

Well, she's the same, which is surprising to you but when you think about where she was forced to grow up it starts making more sense. Both of you are in the same boat, but Vi carries herself with a bit more confidence. Much like everything else she does.

"Not a lot of stable relationships in prison, sweet stuff. I'd love it if you took my serious relationship virginity, I've been looking to lose it." She grins and leans in close to you, her hands roaming down your hips. "Now, how many of yours can I take?"

"None if you keep talking like that." You pushed her face away from yours, leading to Vi biting your hand, lightly.

"We'll see about that. I don't know if you noticed, but I'm very charming. Seriously now, how did a cutie like you stay single this whole time? If I met you before now I'd definitely want to date you." Her arms closed around your body, bringing you close and brushing her lips against your ear, making you shiver.

She was definitely buttering you up. Vi's lips pressed against the sensitive part below your ear. "I have a very specific type of girl that I go for, and that's you. Strong, brave, pure of heart, hotheaded, with tattoos, able to break me in half, you get it." Vi laughed, music to your ears but a moment later she lifted you up and smiled up at you, as if to show you that you chose the right with her.

"You do realize I was voted one of Piltover's biggest heartbreakers right? I'm not ashamed of that title, far from it. But darling, do you really think I care if you were in a relationship before?" Caitlyn could tell you were a little nervous while on your date. Now she finally knew why. If this worked out this would be the first serious relationship you've been in.

Of course you knew Caitlyn had a bit of a reputation among the ladies. She was popular for a reason, "It's... a little hard to believe that a woman like you would be seriously interested in me. Not that I don't think I'm hot, but I've been told I'm more hook up material."

Her brows furrowed in mild anger. "Who told you that? You deserve to be in a long-term relationship, anyone who missed out on a girl like you made a huge mistake." She pulled you against her chest, her hands gently massaging into your tense shoulders. "Better for me, I get you all to myself now." Her cocky grin made your body feel warm, a familiar kind of warmth.

Honestly you expected that she would be bored of you by now but Caitlyn kept asking you out again and again. Other people began to notice too, but she was never one to care about rumors.

"Does... that mean I get to call you my girlfriend now? And tell you I love you in front of other people?" Caitlyn nodded quickly, her hand cradling your cheek and pulling you into a chaste kiss, the first official kiss of your new relationship.

Being a spy doesn't leave much time for serious relationship, not that she doesn't try when she really likes someone. Someone like you. "Of course I'd love to date ya, love. What kind question is that? Yer a catch!" Maddie smiled right before she kissed you.

But when she pulled back and saw you biting your lip nervously she feared she might have rushed in or misunderstood things. Her hands found yours, her thumbs rubbing the back of your hands, leading you to the bed. "I've... never been in a relationship before, so I don't really know how to do it. Believe it or not I've been winging it this whole time."

"I had a feeling. No offense to ya but it's real easy ta tell ya were nervous the whole date. Glad to know it wasn't cause of me." She smiled to herself, also starting to get shy, she wasn't used to being so vulnerable. "I'm nervous too, don't know if ya could tell. Every time ya kiss me I get the shivers. Good kind! I think it's been... about a year or so since I've been serious 'bout anyone."

"And you want to be serious with me?" You asked, hopeful. Since she wasn't gonna stay here forever it was a lot to ask for of her. "I don't want to pressure you into it though."

"Gods no! I love being with ya! Yer so cute I can hardly hold myself back when I'm around ya. My boss doesn't like that but hey, the heart wants what it wants. For as long as I'm here I'd love to be with ya." There was really no telling how long that will be. Maddie knew that too, all too well, but she wanted to make good memories with you, for as long as she was able to she wanted to be with you, kiss you every chance she got.

Sevika blinked, slowly. "And? What is that important, sweetheart? Do you have some crazy ex hook-up or something? Point me in her direction, let's go." She was already gearing up for a fight. One that she would win.

"No! You meathead, not everything is a brawl! Listen to me!" You pulled her towards you and into the bedroom, closing the door behind the two of you. "I'm trying to open up about my relationship inexperience."

"Oh. Okay." Again, she didn't really have that much of a reaction. Instead of that she sat down and pulled you into her lap, "Does that make you feel bad or something? Cause I don't care about that stuff all that much, you know. I just want you all to myself, and if you're looking for more experience I am very happy to help out." Her hand smacked your ass, affectionately, grinning when your hips moved against hers in response.

It made you feel better, knowing that Sevika wasn't placing any pressure on you. Not even when you started your relationship. After the first night you realized she was assertive but not pushy, letting you make first moves and only then escalating to the point where clothes came off.

"You're so cute when you're nervous. Like a little kitten backed into a corner. But that also makes me want to protect you. If I'm your first real relationship then I'll make damn sure I'll be the last." When Sevika promised things to you she always delivered on them. It was basically a marriage proposal. Maybe she was moving a bit fast.

"I already knew that, pet. If you planned on hiding it from me, first you shouldn't hide anything from me, and second, you were really bad at it." Ambessa laughed out loud and patted you on the shoulder, her large hand eclipsing it. "Does that bother you?"

"Not exactly. I'm worried that it bothers you." Her hand grabbed your chin suddenly and forced you to make eye contact with her. "Uhm... yes?"

"Do not assume things about me. I rather like knowing that I'll show you the ropes, I'll get to take so many of your firsts won't I?" She moved your head to the side, her full lips pressing against your neck, her other hand against your lower back and her thick, muscular thigh between your legs. "Even if it's not forever I will make sure you remember every bit of it."

You shuddered against her hold, your heart drumming against your chest, blood rushing south. No matter what she did there was no way you would ever forget about her, she had to be aware of that already. Especially as far as your firsts go.

As soon as her hands started pulling at your clothes you yelped in alarm. "I-Is my body all you want to date me for?!" She didn't answer. She stared at you before she pulled her own shirt off. "Ambessa! Really?!" But what better way to celebrate a new relationship.

[the-modern-typewriter]

hello, i'm in love with your writing! if you could do one of your classic lovers to enemies up-close angsty scenes, where the hero is a stoic, closed-off person who doesn't quite have the words to express their emotions, while the villain wants the hero to just like, talk to them, dammit, even if it's to say something that would break their heart all over again.

love your work and have a great rest of the day!

"Really?" the villain asked. "You're just going to sit there in silence staring at me?"

The battle had not gone how the villain had hoped; primarily due to the interference of their former lover. Instead of the grand fruition of all of their plans, the villain was stuck with cuffs that dug into their wrists, a looming future of incarceration and, of course, their damned ex.

"What do you want me to say?" There was no emotion in the hero's voice. There never bloody was. "I told you so?"

The villain snarled, under their breath. They gave the chains a vicious yank. It did no good. It just made their skin chafe.

"You're going to hurt yourself," the hero said.

"Oh, like you care."

The hero's jaw worked. That was, at least, something. The villain glared at them. The hero looked down.

"Fine, yeah," the villain said, as the silence threatened to stretch unbearably again. "I told you so! Sure. Whatever. If that's the last thing you ever want to say to me, who am I to stop you?"

"It's not the last thing I'm ever going to say to you."

"It's not the last thing I'm ever going to say to you," the villain mimicked, distorted and pretty and cruel. "Jesus."

The hero glanced up at them again. "Again," they said. "What do you want me to say?"

The villain stared at them, incredulously.

They felt like there were a thousand things that the two of them could possibly start a conversation with. Some choice examples might include:

I'm sorry for locking you up forever.

I'm sorry it turned out this way. I wish things could have been different between us. I love you. I still love you.

I'm sorry I ever bloody loved you, you stupid bloody indifferent git. How can you just sit there? How can you have nothing to say to me?!

Just as an off the top of the head example!

"It's not about what I want you to say," the villain said finally. "Just say something. Anything. Oh my god."

The hero opened their mouth, then closed it. They shifted on their chair, opposite, and checked their watch instead.

The temporary security holding cell was unbearably quiet once more. Would their permanent prison be unbearably quiet too? Or would it be a case of so crowded that they never got a moment of peace?

"I can't believe you thought you could beat me," the villain said, in their best hero voice. "Muhaha. Don't you know I have the righteous power of being sanctimonious and insufferable on my side? Fool."

The hero's eye twitched. "Is that the last thing you ever want to say to me, then?"

"What do you want me to say?" The villain jutted their chin. "Please, please, pretty please forgive me? I am the worst. I never deserved you. It's totally okay that you're leaving me to rot forever."

"I'm not leaving you to rot."

"Oh, you could have fooled me. I mean, I suppose it wouldn't-"

The hero's hand clamped down on their mouth.

The villain had barely even seen them move. A split second blur, standing and crossing the minimal space between them. The villain's breath caught as they looked up at that familiar face, overwhelmed with familiar presence.

The hero used to press them up against walls and kiss them, like they could translate all of the languages of the world with kisses alone.

The hero's eyes...

They were wet with tears, though whether that was out of sorrow or fury, the villain wasn't sure.

"I'm not leaving you to rot," the hero said, slow, through gritted teeth. "And I do care. How can you think I don't care? Or are you just saying it to hurt me because you lost? I don't get it. I don't get you. I thought I did, once, but I just - I don't get you anymore. I don't get how you could do any of this. I don't get how you can be so - so cruel! You talk all the time and it's just nonsense. It's nothing. So just - just shut up. For once in your life, shut up."

The villain stared up at them, wide-eyed.

They wanted to open their mouth and tell the hero that was maybe the most words they'd heard them say in years, since the two of them started fighting. The hero's hand didn't allow that. The hero's hand trembled against them, like sign language, but the villain didn't know how to read that.

They never knew how to read the hero anymore.

"Even if I'd tried to talk to you," the hero said, quietly, "you wouldn't have listened. You haven't listened to anyone since we were five, once you made up your mind about something. So don't - this isn't my fault, okay? I didn't want this. I didn't want any of this."

So let me go.

There were a thousand arguments they could try. Atonement and you don't really want this and you'll never see me again and do you really think they can hold me anyway? Ha!

The hero closed their eyes. They dashed at the tears that threatened to roll down their cheeks with their free hand.

"And now," the hero said, "now there's nothing I could say to you that would make this better. That would make what you did better. So don't - don't you dare - just stop talking." Then again, softer, "just stop talking. Please."

The villain's chest chest ached. They'd hoped it had stopped doing that. It was supposed to have stopped doing that, especially for them.

Yet, they felt raw, in a way that had nothing to do with battle.

When the hero's hand fell away from their mouth, they said nothing. They couldn't quite manage to.

The hero looked at them, in silence, an unreadable storm on their face. The villain wanted to invent a weather vane, a thermometer, a scale just for the measuring and decrypting of them. They wanted to bring ancient history to the scholars and have them piece together all the bits that had got lost and forgotten in translation somewhere.

They wanted...

The hero leaned down to kiss them, soft and terribly sweet. A broken sound caught in the villain's throat.

Then the hero was on their knees, face pressed against the villain's knees, sobbing.

With the villain's hands cuffed behind their back, they couldn't even reach out and hold them.

They could do nothing.

They could say, it felt, nothing.

They were back to staring at each other in silence when the holding cell doors finally opened and the villain was taken away.

[landvenus]

~me & hasjtags only for smoking again, u"re so cool. like my favorite componiste / being @grimezszsz _ yeh, that is/was Kaios on my hand, she discov 4 me on server L. ×post note 4 me<screenshots>×

aftr "sleep" - *sips kofi* _ mow is kinda hopeful with some thingz with kinda big effcts *surfs channels & platformz fb ... ... * *GRINNNN*

>> V.Westwood x Grimes _L: let's 4 ever ROCOCO back in belongs/place

>> *feels,action* support with the Facts, be CAUSE:Mother Earth is very *[en/in-twined] with these acts of Bravery, ART, The Tripple Helix DNA_ nothing was ever lost *yey* *mean _ while:

[[image makes the integration a bit smoother sometimes in concept]]

[[lvl of protek FACTS cus the Art/Act-ist gets trolled by opinionators]]

>> Genius Grimes Awarding in AI - OF COURSE._ {{duhh <3}}

* mean while it feels like I am gaining my memory back and *swag* let's talk platform {{4thm-schizzo}} style, who cares. {{ido}} >> at x pin the rest // domain grimes x anime x ...

𒆙[X] Post Conversation 𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼 ˙✧@fairiescumfirst * *

[new c tattoos 💘💘]

[your white tattoos fascinates/recognizes/anime importansze] ... you looks just like her [Lucy/Nyu - Moonsz] @grimezszsz

>> *GR INZ* I totaly made a screenshot of you in Elf with very visible in-side palm Sigil, while having a convo in general about tattoos and anime and especially _ the blend of Arts / Neanderthalis, I mean are we going to spiral up?!, Directing it and Thinking it as of Breathing.

>> "fascinated fnd pretty wallpaper for bestie" - spaghettiiiiiiiiii ! - sigils on the wall !! >> found them other screen 🔫👽 ×<note 4 me<screenshots>×

>> first linez

{hours later} *"𝔅𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔐𝔢" 🎧👁 {23:19} in:

[I don't write here 4 others to make sense of it/they're the ones left schizzo's acual _ 25:40 AngelsxAliens,yah *hi'gh*]

_fuck your hastags we follow our souls_ yeh dravandil angel in kill v. maim {i wish 2 post this, lol} {butttoonnnssss} - 4 sure i am also an adult and thát before 54 *:D* (mayans said so earlier)