#I don’t know if I wanna go into more detail YET

[littlemisstfc]

Transformers One: Is It Good Or Nah?

Hello, hola、こんにちは。So…it’s been 84 years since I’ve last written on this side of the Hundred Acre Woods. For that, I do deeply apologize for my absence aksksksjsjsj. Anyways…so the Transformers franchise, in terms of the movies, has a very shaky history.

We all know the Transformers movies; it’s pretty known by now that the movies are just a rollercoaster of quality. For every Bumblebee, there will always be a Revenge of The Fallen. When it comes to me specifically, I have a very complicated relationship with this aspect of the franchise for a better part of my life. The original G1 movie is okay. The first movie is alright, ROTF is Satan’s spawn, DOTM is good, AOE is a chaotic mess that I both hate and love, and the less said about TLK, the better. Then, a miracle happened in the form of Bumblebee (2018) and it sets the path of redemption for these movies. It continues with Rise of The Beasts and while it’s an 8/10 movie for me, it’s still a great movie that continues the momentum. Now, it brings us to today.

I wanna bring this up before talking about Transformers One because you will not believe me when I say that this movie is EVEN BETTER THAN LITERALLY EVERYTHING ELSE IN THE FILM SERIES. YES, IT OUTDID EVEN THE GREATEST TRANSFORMERS MOVIES BY A FREAKING LANDSLIDE. JUST…how did we even get a movie like this? The fact that it exists is truly the most mind boggling, yet pleasant surprise so far in the series to date. Words cannot describe the experience I have gone through at this moment. Just…what did we do to get something this incredible and this damn good. Amazing is an understatement; Transformers One is easily the best Transformers movie to date.

The way it gives us genuinely some of the best moments in Transformers history is an indicator of the majesty they wanted to make. Sure, no movie is truly perfect. However, for this one, the amount of things to discuss and think about is something that rivals even the most complex media such as Earthspark and Animated. So what am I doing here standing around for? Let's talk about a movie about two bros chilling in an Energon mine, five feet apart cause they’re not gay! :D

For this review…I’m going to give this movie’s pacing the respect it deserves (due to how crucial it is to the story) by highlighting the most important details I want to talk about in order. After we get the nitpicks and other good stuff out of the way, I’m so excited to unleash all the inner brainworks in my head at the moment. So let’s goooooo.

3, 2, 1, Pingu.

(Also, I will be going into spoilers, so Sparknotes version: it’s a rare 10/10. ✨)

The Good, The Bad, and The Badassitron

Let’s go get the nitpicks out of the way. I say nitpicks because they thankfully don’t drag down the movie for me. First things first: I wish that the main trio of Decepticons (Doritoscream, Soundwave, and Shockwave’s boobs) play a much bigger role here. I felt like how we got from Starscream in charge to now all of sudden loyal to Megatron after having the crap beaten out of him is where the movie could benefit from a few minutes more to the runtime. To me, their loyalty to Megatron by the end is something that needs to be earned. However, like I said, it didn’t bring the movie down for me because they’re not the focus here, The focus is on Megatron’s relationship with Optimus. We’ll get there when we get there. Bee’s fine for what he is, but I feel like he can be cut out of the movie and replaced with someone else. The story would be as it is, like he really doesn’t have much of a reason to be here. However, like I said, he’s fine for what he is. The only other nitpick I have is that it’s weird that the Quintessons have little to no direct involvement in the main conflict, since it’s their rule that led to this mess in the first place. However, since we’re getting two more movies, I’m curious to see how this is gonna play out in the future. Anyways, that’s all I have to say about the issues I have with the movie, so let’s get to the good stuff…EVERYTHING ELSE.

Oh my god, the music score? Easily among my favorite scores in Transformers media to date. The way it not only incorporates music from shows such as Transformers Prime so beautifully, but it gives the world so much life and majesty that is straight out of a Biblical epic. The ending song at the credits reminds me so much of On My Soul, just what an utter bop. Of course, I also need to mention the biggest highlight of this movie…the animation. Oh my god, this movie is utterly gorgeous. Not only are the settings so vibrant and brimming with life and personality, but I absolutely adore the facial expressions on the characters. I’m glad that it’s emotive enough to not fall into the Uncanny Valley, and the characters felt so real. I especially love Orion’s facial expressions, because of how well they convey his growing heartbreak and loss of innocence over the course of the story that we’ll discuss later here. Overall, the music and animation are good enough reasons why you need to see this movie on the big screen. Just…MMMMMMM. Delicious food.

The characters are also really likable and enduring. I wasn’t sure if I was gonna like Badassitron going in, but honestly, he’s a Bumblebee done well. He has plenty of funny moments and jokes, and I like how they don’t have him make quips during the more serious moments here and there. He is the comic relief done right. I’m pleasantly surprised by how they handle Elita’s character. At first, based on the promos, she seems to be the Ultra Serious Girlboss who girlbosses her way into the Elita One we all know and love. However, as it turns out, it’s revealed that she’s a neurotic, yet well meaning dork and I love that for her akskssk. I especially love how her relationship with Orion develops over time as they went to find the One Piece. She went from being irritated with his tendency to cause mischief at work and ignoring protocols to warming up to him because of his resilience and optimism (no pun intended) of their people being freed. Honestly, it’s so refreshing to see a flawed, yet likable Elita here and she’s perhaps one of my favorite iterations so far. Moving on, and oh man…where do we even begin with our good buddy Sentinel Prime. Not only is he one of the evil ass motherfuckers in the franchise so far, but he is a fantastic main villain. Just seeing this despicable bastard manipulate his way into power makes you love to hate him, he’s also pretty funny, and the way he poses a threat to our heroes provides enough interesting groundwork for the conflict between two of our main amigos. Also, shoutout to Jon Hamm. He did an excellent job at portraying Sentinel as this smug, arrogant little bitch. Just, amazing. And speaking of portrayals, the entire voice cast did an amazing job here. You can tell how much they clearly respect the characters they’re portraying while also breathing new life into them. This is what animation studios need to do; hire actors that suit the characters well DAMMIT. Other positives I have is the amount of neat cameos of our favorite blorbos in the background, the comedic timing is excellent thanks to the voice actors’ deliveries and banter with each other, and in spite of the darker tone the more it progresses, it also has a very cozy, fun feel to it due to one of the movie’s main central themes. And speaking of themes…this is where we will end the section here.

Now…I am saving the best for last. What I mean by that is that there are two characters that manage to be my favorite aspect of the movie overall. So…let’s go talk about them.

A Tale of Two Friends:

I’m struggling to use the right words to describe how I feel about Orion and Megatron. To me…they’re the true standouts in the movie for me. Their relationship is portrayed with so much care and gravity that they both felt like real people. Not only are they both likable and charming, but seeing their relationship break apart over the course of the movie is hauntingly beautiful and tragic. Trust me, it’s not the shipper speaking here. It’s so refreshing to see them together in the big screen for the first time since The Last Knight, but it’s also so interesting seeing them in a different light than what other Transformers media did. I’m starting in the order of the movie because the movie’s pacing is perfect. Every scene connects to each other perfectly and it makes room for the wild ride we’re in for.

First, let’s start with Orion.

We start the movie off with Orion breaking into the Iaconian Hall of Records and search for anything on the status of the One Piece. Then, he gets caught by some guards and a chase ensues. Right away, we get a good idea of his mischievous, yet curious personality and his determination to discover more about the surface world. He won’t take no for an answer and while it does lead to him getting in trouble often, it’s genuinely admirable to see him have the initiative to make the best of his situation in life. Then, right before he gets caught, Megatron comes in with a cart that serves as a distraction for Orion to slip away and they both head to work.

Right off the bat, we see that Megatron is the more relaxed, more cautious out of the two. He tries his best to stay out of trouble and to keep his good ol unhinged buddy alive due to his wacky shenanigans. At the same time, he also has the same kind of energy he shares with Orion in that they both keep their heads up in spite of their circumstances. Adding to the layers is Orion bringing him the Fallen sticker, which is how we get a good idea of how much they care for each other. True, they have their own frustrations with each other. Megatron is frustrated by Orion’s tendency to get in trouble, along with not recognizing his discomfort with some of the things he drags him into such as the Iacon 5000, and Orion is frustrated by Megatron keeping his head down to avoid trouble. However, they always have each other’s back and they are each other’s equals.

We also see that they’re both kindhearted people who will stand up for the little guy through risking their lives to save Jazz from the collapsing Energon mine, even though it resulted in Elita being demoted. From the start, their desire to make their world a better place is set in stone there. This is furthered strengthened by Orion standing up for Elita by flipping off Darkwing and both him and Megatron needing some milk afterwards. Also, quick side note: Orion’s sass and dynamics with the other characters is so damn refreshing. I love how he literally has no chill in speaking what’s on his mind, and I especially adore how he interacts with Elita. Pure malewife material aksksksz.

Back on track, he then drags Megatron into the Iacon 5000 so that they can prove themselves to be just as worthy as the upper class racers in the game. As they fly through the race track with mere jet packs, their fellow miners cheer for them and they were pretty close to finishing in first place had it not been for the combo of an injury Megatron got and the first place winner coming in. I’m not gonna reveal who won the race, but let me say that who won it is a pleasant surprise. Anyways, this earned the attention of Sentinel Prime and he went down to their recovery ward to personally congratulate them on their boldness in participating. He even offers them a nice ol place in his crib, which they might've accepted if Darkwing didn’t throw them down into Undertale due to his jealousy and anger. Throughout this scene, we see Orion and Megatron being validated by the Prime they’ve admired for so long for breaking out of the status quo and it lays the foundation for later on. Eventually, they met Bee, found the map to the One Piece, and ventured into the surface world while accidentally dragging Elita along for the ride. Pretty landscapes and peril later, they end up in the cave where the bodies of de Primes are at. They wake up Alpha Trion and he reveals the bitter truth:

Uh oh, it turns out Sentinel Prime is a LIAR and that he betrayed the Primes in order to be in charge of the Cybertronian population. Here…we see the innocent viewpoints of Orion and Megatron shattered permanently from here on out. While Orion reacts with anger as he should, Megatron is utterly furious with this horrific revelation. The Prime he has admired for so long, the Prime who just gave him an opportunity to move upwards just minutes ago…turns out to be a cowardly, spineless fraud that took away their autonomy to having basically a crucial organ in their bodies and to make choices for themselves. It isn’t helped by Sentinel giving up the Energon (that they risked their lives in mining for) to the very evil overlords that are responsible for their people being this way for so many generations.

What happens back in the cave is one of three excellent scenes that is borderline uncomfortable due to how realistic it is. We see Megatron essentially having a mental breakdown from finding out his life is a lie and Sentinel is a big stinker. When Orion tries to calm him down, he finally vents to him about his frustrations with Orion’s tendency to cause trouble over the years and calls him out for not thinking before acting on his impulses. It also helps that we see his patience starting to be worn thin earlier in the recovery ward and when Darkwing threw them both in the Undertale. Then, he finishes his breakdown with one simple, yet effective confession: he doesn’t want to just take Sentinel down…he wants to kill him. To say that hearing Megatron say this left me and the theater in shock is a massive understatement. It genuinely caught me off guard, but in a good way. We finally saw Megatron at his breaking point: his entire life, including being worked to death, has been for nothing. It’s a great scene because it’s an argument where you understand both perspectives here. You understand Orion’s bewilderment at Megatron’s unhinged behavior and wanting him to take a deep breath so he can clear his head while you also understand Megatron finally having enough of being a doormat for too long and Orion putting his own wants before others. Neither side is right and wrong, and I appreciate how Orion’s and Megatron’s emotions are valid here. From this point on, all hell breaks loose.

After they gain their T-cogs and the recording to cancel Sentinel on Twitter by Alpha Trion, the main amigos enjoy the euphoria of transforming for the first time. However…we see Megatron enjoying the euphoria of having the T-cog too much. After fighting off one of Sentinel’s soldiers, he forcibly takes the callout post and vows to make Sentinel pay for his crimes. When Orion tries to protest, Megatron coldly tells him to step aside or else there’ll be a problem between them. Orion’s expression here is why I love his facial expressions the most as mentioned earlier. You can see all the thoughts he’s having right now, especially the shock of seeing his best friend giving into his darker thoughts expressed back at the cave. Now, the coin is flipped. Orion is the sensible, level headed one of the two while Megatron is the impulsive, stubborn one that he always scolds Orion for being so in earlier scenes.

As they make their way back home, they ended up captured by some Decepticons and are being interrogated by Starscream and his band of mean girls. When Megatron walks away from the interrogation nonchalantly, Starscream tries to assert himself as the leader. However, it ended up breaking into a fight that quickly went HOLY FUCKING SHIT, HE NEEDS SOME MILK when Megatron overpowers him. We see a horrified Orion in the crowd and they can only look at each other. Their friendship will never be the same after that…especially now that Megatron finally got a taste of power that’s been denied to him all his life. I know that this is probably gonna be a point of contention for some people with how Megatron’s turn to the Dark Side is portrayed here, so let me provide this perspective:

How long did Megatron have these thoughts?

Given presumably how many times he had to bust Orion out of trouble, and having to keep quiet just to stay alive, you have to wonder how long he kept quiet about his frustrations and hidden rage at the circumstances of his life. From that angle, giving into his intrusive thoughts is inevitable. He just needed the push to act on them. Essentially…the poor guy needed therapy, and sadly, there are no therapists on Cybertron. 😔

Eventually, Megs and Badassitron got captured along with Starscream and several other Decepticons by Airachnid. It’s now up to Orion and Elita to team up with the remaining Decepticons left and YOU GOTTA HELP US. Here, we see Orion finally realize how badly he screwed up for not understanding how his actions affected the people he cares about over the years. It got through his head that he didn’t appreciate Megatron’s patience and willingness to protect him from the consequences. While he means well, he doesn’t realize how selfish he’s also being with the things he does in his overactive ways. Upon realizing this, he takes responsibility for the amigos being in this mess…a mess that happened because of him. That was his mistake. He is now left with no choice but to go forward and make things right by his friend and the people they love. Then…we get another one incredible scene and that is Elita’s pep talk to him.

While it starts off a bit comedic due to how this is clearly Elita’s first time with cheering someone up and Orion pointing it out, it then leads to her expressing how she always admire his optimism towards a better future for their kind and his refusal to back down in the face of struggle. It’s the embodiment of the movie’s most important message: having hope even when the odds are against you. That fact that we have such a strong theme in a turbulent era we’re in at the moment is why this scene works so well. Change starts with one person, and then becomes bigger and stronger when they continue to fight against injustice and inspire others to do the same. Thus, Elita’s pep talk gave Orion the drive to get back up and keep moving forward by teaming up with the Decepticons, go back to Iacon, and free their buddies. The theme is furthered strengthened by Orion rallying the other miners into helping him, as he now has the power to make things better for his people.

Quick side note, but Elita is an interesting foil to Megatron’s in terms of how they react to Orion’s unhinged sassy king energy. While she’s also annoyed by his tendency to get in trouble a lot, she has also admire his ability to remain optimistic even with their shitty conditions. Once he takes responsibility for his decisions, she softens up towards him and she remains his dearest friend by the end. In contrast, by the time he has apologized for his mistakes, it’s too late for Megatron. It’s clear that these two are what shaped Orion into Optimus, for better and for worst.

Meanwhile, Megatron gets tortured by Sentinel after repeatedly defying him. Then, he gets the Decepticon symbol carved painfully into his chest by the blue son of a bitch. That essentially became the straw that broke the camel’s back and it ultimately drove Megatron into a point of no return. After the other main amigos rescued the other amigos and a ROBOT FIGHT occurs, Megatron now has the opportunity to finally show Sentinel that his day of reckoning has come. Now, he must die. However, after putting the callout post on Twitter, Orion realizes what his bestie is about to do and tries to stop him. However, Megatron quickly overpowers him and prepares the final blow to Sentinel. Then…what happened next left me and the entire theater in stunned silence for a good few minutes up until one point. At first, I thought to myself:

“Ain’t no way he’s gonna do this. There’s no way they’re bold enough to have Megatron do this.”

But then…it happened. The shot from the fusion cannon meant for Sentinel ended up hitting Orion instead, sending him flying near the entrance to the planet’s core and hanging on for dear life. The moment he cries out to Megatron for help…I bursted into tears right there. His innocent perspective has been destroyed permanently, and he’s now a broken shell of his formerly spunky self. To add more salt to the wound, Megatron reaches for him…only for him to declare that he’s done saving him from trouble after one too many times. Then, he sent him falling into the core. Megatron has crossed the line, and with eyes now red with hate and pain, he finally killed Sentinel in front of a now devoted group of followers who will obey his every word. He has now become the person he has sworn to destroy…

As that’s going on, Orion’s broken, lifeless body is gently brought down inside of the core and it’s revealed that he is the one who is destined to receive the One Piece…aka, the Matrix of Leadership. Thus, he is now reborn as the Optimus Prime we all know and love. The use of a theme from the G1 movie is the cherry on top of an utterly haunting, yet powerful scene that needs to be seen on the big screen.

After he has risen and put an end to Megatron’s madness, he decides that the best option for them both is banishing Megatron and his followers from Iacon. The fact that he chose this option instead of simply killing his former best friend really speaks a lot about not only his character, but also how much their relationship has essentially been ruined by how different they are in terms of wanting change. Alas, Megatron goes off into the sunset with his followers and Optimus is left there…mourning the death of their once great bond. When it showed a memory of how they met afterwards, it made me sobbed uncontrollably. At this point, you’re left with one question:

Will they ever go back to where they were at before?

Thus, we end on a bittersweet ending…an ending of two former friends who were torn apart by the sins of the fathers and the aftermath of said sins. All there’s left to do is wait and hope that everything will be okay soon.

Overall…Orion and Megatron are what makes the movie for me. Their chemistry, their character development, and the phenomenal performances of Chris Hemsworth and Brian Tyree Henry are what makes them the most layered, most complex iterations of the characters respectively.

Conclusion: IT’S SO GOOD, YOU GUYS.

Words cannot describe how Transformers One is a phenomenal love letter to the franchise I hold very dear to my heart since I was a kid. Overall, this is a fantastic movie that you will love.

It has phenomenal characters, gorgeous animation, an amazing score, and a powerful story of how you have the power to change the world and make it better. For the very first time since Cyberverse, I award the very rare 10/10 to this film.

Please check it out. I applaud everyone involved in this project for making it a beautiful work of art for the fans. It is indeed more than meets the eye.

[bittersweetbeet]

Feel free to ignore, they’ve just been in my brain waves and I need to scream about them for just a second

One of the biggest appeals for vic and Hue’s relationship that I love writing about is seeing how vic would interact with someone who’s gone through the same thing he went through AND is somehow taking it way better than he is.

Tbf Hue doesn’t remember shit about what happened so that does help admittedly but Hue still suffered a great deal after the fact, which they remember clear as day. But they still don’t really think about it or are super affected by it in all honesty. Where vic is. Ya know.

It makes their dynamic very interesting for me to write.

[doolallymagpie]

been trying to come up with a BattleTech “pitch” for fans of The Expanse, but honestly?

this is probably enough, plus the official “primer” document if you want actual information rather than just a bunch of pretty images and a banging soundtrack by Jon Everist (who I’m fairly sure admitted he wanted this piece to sound kind of Expanse-y)

or if you don’t want to click links or watch videos:

politics-heavy hard-SF space opera, thrilling heroics, (almost) zero easy answers to the dilemma of the day, main themes are “people are always going to be people” and “the end justifies the means, but there is no end”. obviously this describes both settings nicely.

one just uses that to explain why people are hopping into big war robots and slapping the shit out of each other.

[cynical-cemeteries]

okay soooo since it’s basically been confirmed that all 12 WoT heroes will be available in the game at some point

i wanna propose the idea that i think heroes are getting banners in order of story appearance,, but if the hero up next is someone who Died,, then that specific character will be skipped & they’ll go to the next one who Survived

so like for reference right. syphfride was the first person we met back in chapter 1,, and she was Also a hero who survived the war,, so she was the first person to get a banner. ondal was supposed to be next,, but since he’s someone who’s supposed to die,, he got skipped and they went straight to brandon

after brandon’s banner ended a few days ago,, raligon would’ve been next,, but since y’know. he died at the end. he got skipped,, and now dragon knight helga is up and running

i’m assuming that young walther & aslan will be coming after helga leaves,, and then arkanath will probably be skipped after those two since She Dies,, and then we’ll see whoever else gets introduced after her

the thing is…i don’t know how they’re gonna do banners for the people who died. i’m guessing that after all the people who Survived are finished,, they’ll introduce the remaining heroes at the very end. maybe it’ll be a special kind of link across timelines since they’re no longer living,, like we link to them when they’re still alive?? there’s a lot of possibilities with this but i think it’ll be interesting regardless

[therealbeachfox]

Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.

It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.

To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.

This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.

Join me below, if you would.

2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.

Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadn’t even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.

It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.

But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.

The next day, we’re on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that she’s surprised the two of us aren’t up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.

“Everyone else?” Goes I, “I thought they would’ve shut that down already?”

“Oh no!” goes she, “The courts aren’t open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. They’re doing them all weekend long!”

We didn’t know because social media wasn’t a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as I’d read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.

"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, it’s a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but we’re not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?

The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.

We had slightly miscalculated.

Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone who’d gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.

“Isn’t City Hall closed on Monday?” I asked. “It’s a holiday”

“Oh sure,” they reply, “but people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.”

“Oh cool,” we go, “Backup.”

“Make sure you’re here if you do,” they say, “because the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.”

And all this shit is super not-legal, so they’ll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.

00000

We don’t get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.

It’s… incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of others’ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.

At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, “That’s Newsom.” He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.

Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.

So dusk is starting to fall. It’s February, so it’s only six or so, but it’s getting dark.

“Should we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?” we ask.

“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” One of the volunteers tells us. “We’re not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. We’d need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.

Monday is the last day to do this, after all.

00000

So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.

The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people who’re up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.

“Uh.” We go. “What the fuck is -this-?”

So.

Remember why they weren’t going to be able to have people hang out overnight?

Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties that’d gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.

It’s 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least weren’t likely to loose job protections any time soon.).

Then it starts to rain.

We had not dressed for rain.

00000

Here is how the next six hours go.

We’re in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. It’s around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and you’ve got a makeshift raincoat! So you’ve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.

Everyone is so happy.

Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.

People online start making delivery orders.

Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because they’re just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.

A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all we’re sinning and to please don’t. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against God’s will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.

The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how “Not even DOGS do such things!” Which… Yes they do.

A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that we’re willing to come out in the rain to do this while they’re not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.

Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall we’re on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when we’re on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when we’re on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.

00000

We have Line Neighbors.

Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. They’ve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. He’s worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. They’d started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.

The most perky energetic joyful woman I’ve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. She’s their local friend who’d just gotten their message about what they’re doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.

Behind us are a lesbian couple who’d been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. “We met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because it’s our first love city.”

“Then they announced -this-,” the other one says, “and we can’t leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.”

“I told them why,” her partner says, “I don’t care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.”

My husband-to-be and I look at each other. We’ve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? We’re potentially taking a spot from another couple that’d been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.

“This is as much for you as it is for us!” says the lesbian couple who’ve been together for over a decade behind us.

“You kids are too cute together,” says the gay couple’s friend. “you -have- to. Someday -you’re- going to be the old gay couple that’s been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.”

We stay in line.

It’s while we’re on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. “Can we say we’re with you? His uncles are already inside and they’re not letting anyone in who isn’t with a couple right there.” “Of course!” we say.

The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but there’s free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so he’s having a great time.

We pass by a statue of Lincoln with ‘Marriage for All!’ and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.

It’s about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.

They’ve promised that anyone who’s inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. We’re safe.

We still have a -long- way to go.

00000

They’re trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways I’m not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.

It’s after we’ve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. “It’s an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you don’t have to do it there!”

We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.

We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.

I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.

The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.

Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.

The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.

A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. She’s done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. “Oh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today I’m acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-“

The guy behind the counter has been there since six. It’s now 1:30. He’s still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. “Alright, go to the Rotunda, they’ll direct you to someone who’ll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, they’ll direct you to -that- line.” “Can’t you just mail it to us?” “Normally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, we’re not going to be allowed to.”

We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.

If you’ve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, you’ve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.

That’s for the people who didn’t bring their own wedding officials.

There’s a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. They’re doing the whole damn thing. There’s at least one more Rabbi at work, I can’t remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.

We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)

I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I can’t get the ring on my husband’s finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.

There really isn’t a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that we’d made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands who’d cheered for us generally.

Then we're married.

Then we get in line to get our license.

It’s another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayor’s office.

Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked “THANK YOU!”s that have been piled up against it.

We make it to the marriage records office.

I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then we’re done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.

It's almost 3PM.

00000

There are cheers, there’s rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. It’s no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. There’s barely even any news vans.

We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading ”Congratulations!” jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.

I’m at the BART station, we’re waiting for our train back south, and I’m sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. “Hey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just… I’m so happy for you. I’m so proud of what you could do. I’m- I’m just really glad, glad you could get to do this.”

He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.

Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.

We get back to our car and climb in.

It’s 4:30 and we are starving.

There’s a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.

We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what we’d just done.

We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.

The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsom’s marriages.

My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. “No! No one knew that they’d go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! I’ll just be there for the next one!”

00000

It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didn’t even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was “marriage really isn’t that important, aside from the legal benefits. It’s just confirming what you already have.”

But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.

It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.

I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. It’s been twenty years and we’re still together and still married.

We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. We’d done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husband’s collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.

Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.

It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldn’t negate it that time.

Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"

And that was that.

00000

When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didn’t expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldn’t see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.

I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before I’d barely started by 30s. I never thought I’d be in my 40s and it’d be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers would’ve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.

I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.

I never thought I’d live in this world.

And it’s twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.

I don’t have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you can’t predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.

The future we’re resigned to doesn’t have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.

And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those who’re against it will brave.

[taeyongdoyoung]

wolf and bunny

summary: you ask your best friend to fuck you in your sleep but your bottled up feelings come out to the surface... pairing: chan x reader genre: smut, best friends to lovers warnings: cnc/somnophilia, discussion of boundaries, eating out, touching, groping, unprotected sex, spanking, stranger+wolf/bunny roleplay, little red riding hood references, face-slapping (once), size kink, cockwarming, multiple rounds, feelings (ew), pet names, discussion of future scenario 👀 (i know i said this is the end but...we'll see) author's note: hii everyone, this is the third and final part of my wolf and bunny series, thank you so much for going on this nasty journey with me 🤍 part one & part two word count: 2k

You and Chan are having a bit of a disagreement in connection with the circumstances surrounding your next game.

“But I want to know exactly which night you’ll do it.”

“If you know, you won’t be able to fall asleep,” Chan reasons with you. “Kinda like Santa Claus. Kids stay up all night waiting for him and then he never comes.”

“Please, even if the kids were asleep, he’d still never come ‘cause the parents are putting the presents under the tree!”

“It was just a metaphor.”

“A bad one. You’re gonna have to work harder to convince me.”

“Hey, wasn’t this your idea in the first place?” Chan reminds you teasingly. “You’re the one who wants me to fuck her in her sleep.”

“Ey, don’t pretend you won’t be into it,” you shake your head.

You are both so stubborn you don’t see this ending unless one of you retreats. Then, after a brief consideration, you speak again.

“Fine. You can keep the secret of the exact night you’ll do this. On one condition.”

“Sure, bunny, let’s hear it,” Chan listens eagerly.

“If I wake up, you won’t stop. I’ll just pretend I’m still sleepy and we keep going.”

“Is that even possible? I mean, for you to not wake up?”

“It is if you drug me or something,” you shrug.

“Ugh, don’t give me such evil ideas. You never know when I might take advantage of you.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it, wolfie.”

“But are you sure the sleep thing is a great idea? I mean, you wouldn't be able to say a safeword...” Chan can't help but worry, always putting your needs first and planning every scenario in great detail to make sure you're alright. Damnit, could he get any more perfect? He's so sweet and considerate you wish you could just tell him how you feel. But what if that scares him away? What if you lose not only your wicked game buddy but your best friend in the entire world? You wouldn't be able to live with yourself.

“Yes, I'm positive, Chris,” you place your hand on top of his. “I trust you 100% and know that you'll look after me. The question is, do you trust my judgement?”

“I mean, I do trust you. It's just that last time you didn't communicate your discomfort clearly and I wouldn't want to risk messing up to the point of accidentally hurting you,” Chan verbalizes his anxieties.

“I get what you're saying but it's not like I'm open to doing this with a stranger. It's you we're talking about. You've always been great at taking care of people so I know you wouldn't go too far. But at the same time, I wouldn't mind if you went loose. If anyone can take it and accept you fully, it would be me.”

“Yeah, I know. You're right. But just in case, I want you to know beforehand that I care about you and respect you like a lot. So, even if I get carried away, I still want you to feel safe.”

“Aww, Chris, ya old softie! I always feel safe with you, it goes without saying!” you insist.

“Well, I like hearing you say it.”

You gulp nervously. His voice is so commanding and yet so reassuring that your words have never rung truer. He's more to you than a safety net and you hope he knows it. He's incredibly thoughtful and infinitely kinder than the first expression. He's a riddle in the way he keeps surprising you and yet you wanna keep learning more about him. He's hundreds of the loveliest words in the dictionary multiplied. He's more comforting than your favourite blanket. He's warmth personified and you would be an idiot to let him go.

“I'll try to say it more often, then,” you promise. “When I'm with you, I know no harm will come my way. But here's the thing...you're the only one I'd willingly let hurt me.”

“I don't want to hurt you, though.”

“You don't?” you pout, suddenly feeling guilty. Then, what have you been doing? Was he forcing himself to act out these fantasies for your sake alone? You genuinely thought he was enjoying them as much as you were.

“Sorry, that came out wrong,” Chan is quick to explain. “I like our games. I meant that I don't want to hurt you emotionally. Ever.”

“Ah, yeah, that makes sense,” you chuckle, feeling a little stupid. “Well, you don't need to worry about that. Glad we had this talk.”

“Me too,” Chan gazes at you fondly.

“So, which night are you fucking me while I'm asleep?” you attempt to find out while he has this dazed look in his eye.

“Next- Hey, nice try! I'm not telling you, you impatient devil.”

“Aw, man, I was so close,” you bemoan the uncertainty of your future.

“You wish.”

The long-awaited night finally arrives. Chan has a key to your place so entering it is too easy. He makes sure he picks a night when you’ve complained about being exhausted and sleepy all day long. And he is certain that you’re passed out in your room, not suspecting a thing. Well, a part of you is always anticipating what could happen, but still.

He’s beyond glad to find you sound asleep. You’re wearing nothing but a t-shirt and some flimsy panties. Chan admires your sleeping form for a couple of brief moments before he gets down to business.

He wonders where to start. Should he tear them up? Or maybe push them to the side? Should he grope your boobs through your shirt? Or perhaps slide his hands beneath it, stroking your nipples directly? So many opportunities. He wants to do everything, he decides.

Chan starts by moving your panties to the side and licking your tiny pussy. He touches you with his fingers, gently prodding your entrance but not exactly sticking them inside yet. Then, he sneaks his hand underneath your shirt, teasing your nipples. Fuck, you’re so soft.

He marvels at the knowledge that you’d trust him with something like that. Though the previous scenarios were hot and intense as fuck, this one hits different for him. Maybe because last time you were awake, you were still in control because you could say the safeword whenever. Maybe because you want him at your most vulnerable even in your sleep. Or maybe because he’s slowly falling for you, but he doesn’t know how to say it.

It’s okay. Chan’ll show you, instead. He pinches your nipples lightly and continues to make out with your pussy. You are so wet already it’s adorable. He wonders if you’re dreaming of him, as you shift slightly in your sleep. He wants to drag this out. But how?

He uses his nails to trace circles on your skin, which causes goosebumps to appear. Are you cold? He wants to keep you warm and full at all times. Chan can’t take it any longer and takes his cock out, sliding in so perfectly. As if you were made for him. Made to take his cock and let him do crazy things to you. His sweet little bunny…

You moan desperately and the spell is broken. You’re awake. He wanders if you’ll speak or he’ll have to make you. Both options sound quite appealing. But he wants to hear your voice more than anything.

“Shhh, go back to sleep, sweetheart,” Chan whispers gently.

“W-who are you?” you cry out.

Aw, you’re gonna pretend not to know him? That hurts. But it can be fun, he thinks.

“Just the big bad wolf,” he chuckles at the irony of it.

“Please, don't do this,” you fake not wanting it, even though you've never wanted anything so badly in your life.

“Oh, bunny, but I already am,” Chan replies, spanking your ass a couple of times in the meantime.

“G-gonna split me in h-half,” you mumble, voice muffled against your pillow.

“Yeah? G'na ruin my sweet girl?” he speaks to you so softly you want to melt right there and then.

“Feel so full 'n so s'eepy,” you slur helplessly.

“Aw, tiny, go back to sleep, then,” Chan pats your head soothingly.

“Can't. What a deep voice you have!” you play along too well.

“All the better to degrade you with, my slutty bun,” Chan laughs, while still continuing to fuck you.

“What big hands you have!” you keep saying.

“All the better to grab your tits with,” Chan chuckles and makes good on his promise by playing with your boobs.

“And slap me with!” you remind him playfully.

“As you wish, princess,” Chan growls and slaps you across the face harshly but not harsh enough to actually leave a mark.

“What big eyes you have,” you sigh wistfully.

“All the better to stare at you fall apart,” Chan responds cleverly.

“And what big cock you have!” you scream, barely resisting the urge to laugh. Are you a silly little bunny or Little Red Riding Hood? At this point, you don't care, but it feels too good regardless.

“All the better to fuck you with,” he grunts loudly, spilling inside of you.

You follow rightaway and urge him to stay like this for a while. Maybe round two is in order?

“You know what else is big?” Chan teases you.

“Oh, shut up, Bigfoot!” you reply and are no longer able to hold it in, breaking into laughter. Chan also finds the interaction hilarious and buries his head in the nook of your shoulder. You stroke his hair without realizing. Shit, he's so adorable you almost say the three words. Is it too risky? Too soon? You need a distraction. You need... “Fuck me again.”

“Already? Aren't you tired?” Chan wants to make sure.

“Fuck me till I fall asleep again,” you ask him.

“Um, okay, sure,” Chan looks a bit confused but does as you ask.

This time there is less talking and more fucking but no matter how many rounds you go, sleep doesn't come again. You both orgasm more times than you could count, but somehow, it isn't nearly enough to distract you from the inevitable. You love him. Your heart knows it, your pussy knows it, even your brain knows it but is stubborny telling you not to confess for fear of somehow ruining things.

Once Chan decides he's completely spent for the night, he pulls out of you and rips off the bandaid.

“Are you alright? Something suddenly shifted but I can't quite place it,” he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and nudges you softly with his shoulder.

“Do you want the truth that might mess up everything or do you want me to lie to you and say I'm fine?” you ask, even though you're already on the verge to tell the truth.

“With you? Always the truth, please,” Chan clearly states his preference.

You sigh deeply and tilt to the side so you're facing him properly.

“I think...no, I know I love you.”

“I love you, too, babybun,” Chan responds fondly and kisses you on the nose.

“In a non-friendly way. And I don't mean just sexually, either. I mean, the friendly way and the sexual way haven't diminished, of course. But I also love you in a...I want to be yours, your girlfriend, your lover, your romantic partner, your everything.”

Chan is taken aback by your words. You...feel the same?

“You already are,” he confesses genuinely.

“Huh?” you blink in shock.

“I mean...you are already my everything. But, if you'd like me to officially ask you, then...will you be my girlfriend, angel?”

“You...you'll have me?” you are still in disbelief.

“I thought I already had ya,” Chan pinches your cheeks lightly.

“Damn right you do, Mr. Wolf,” you giggle and pull him into a kiss.

He smells like autumn, his embrace exudes warmth and his lips taste like home.

“You have no idea how badly I've wanted to tell you about my feelings,” Chan confesses. “When I found that story of yours in your drafts, I just couldn't resist the opportunity. I hoped that if I turned your fantasies into reality that you'd eventually fall for me.”

“Oh, Channie...I've been falling for you for longer than you realize,” you admit shyly. “How could I not? You're everything I've ever wanted.”

So, this is what it feels like to have the world in your hands. Huh. You could get used to it.

Bonus:

“No, I'm not kidnapping you!” Chan is adamant as you two sit in a nice restaurant.

“But Chriiiis,” you whine. “You said you'd do anything for my birthday.”

“Anything but that!” Chan shakes his head in amusement.

“Why not? It can be fun!”

“Fun? What if something goes wrong, what if someone sees us and thinks I'm actually kidnapping you, what if...hear me out, here, I go to prison for it?”

“Well, duh, then I'd bail you out!”

“As if you could afford it,” Chan rolls his eyes.

“Hey! But seriously, I'll just tell the cops that I asked you to kidnap me.”

“What if they don't believe you and think you have a Stockholm syndrome?”

“I'll...think of something. Come on, we're going too far with the what-ifs.”

“You gotta be prepared for any situation. You'd know that if you carried the heavy burden of being a dom,” Chan tsks at you.

“I'd know that if you let me,” you give him a wink.

“That will only happen the day I agree to fake-kidnap you.”

“So, tomorrow? It's a date!” you grin excitedly.

“Keep dreaming, darling.”

“Oh, I will.”

The End

[wintfleur]

Hi can u write prompt 18 and 14 🪷 and [comfort] 🌷 with lando? With lando being the one who comforts?? Thank u sm I love u and ur works 💗💗💗💗

౨ৎ sleep darling

﹕─┈ pairings ( Lando norris x female! reader )

°. — summary ( a morning with lando after a restless night )

°. — details ( g; fluff, a pinch of angst? w; none that I know of. wc; 1.5k )

﹕─┈ prompt ~ hugging them tight without saying any words when they're having a hard time + they roll on top of you, cradling your head between their hands as they kiss your nose + a tender kiss to provide comfort or reassurance

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( Tysm for the request lovely & the kind words ! I love you too !!! I had so much fun writing this, it was an amazing request !!! I hope you like it, I tried fitting in the prompts together the best I could !!! Please don’t be a silent reader lovely’s, your thoughts are what keep me motivated to write !!! )

1k celly masterlist main masterlist F1 masterlist

Restless sighs and tired groans leave your lips as you roll over onto your side, now facing your large window that gives you a perfect view of the sunrise. Your eyes dropped down to the sleepy body next to you, he was laying on his stomach with both of his arms under the soft white pillow, the duvet being pulled up to his shoulders, protecting him from the breeze coming through the cracked open window. He looked so peaceful as he slept, that made you happy. 

You missed him, lately he's been busy with getting ready for the start of the new f1 season and even though some days he came home early, you were too busy studying to really spend any time with him. For the past week, the two of you really only spent time together in bed, and most of the time lando was sleeping while you laid wide awake. You barely slept and when you did you woke up in cold sweats from the nightmares that plagued your mind. 

The lack of sleep and the intense studying didn't help your mood, but your sweet boyfriend didn't let your mood get to him, he understands. You felt guilty, he was the absolute sweetest and so understanding, sending you sweet texts throughout the day, getting you flowers and ordering you your favorite food; knowing that you most likely forgot to eat. And yet you couldn't even spare the time to spend more time with him. 

You watched as he scrunched his nose in annoyance and nuzzled his face deeper into the pillow as the sun shines on his face. You begin to feel restless as you continue to lay down, your mind not shutting off even though you've stayed up for the whole night. By the time you decided to stop studying, it was way past midnight and Lando was already asleep even though he tried to stay up for you. 

You felt that guilt creep up and you let out a heavy sigh, you couldn't lay down anymore wasting time. You quietly sit up and move the blankets off your legs and move to get out of bed, but you pause when you hear a tired groan accompanied by your boyfriend's groggy voice “Where are you going?”

“To the bathroom, I'll be right back, go back to sleep baby” you spoke softly so you wouldn't pull him too much out of his sleep as you looked back at him. One of his hands was out from under the pillow as if he was reaching out from you to stop you from leaving, and that's what he intended to do, he was just far to sleep to open his eyes. Lando hummed sleepily “Mmkay hurry back . . . wanna cuddle.” 

You leaned down and placed a soft but quick kiss on his forehead, a sleepy smile forming on his lips at the touch of your lips. You quickly leave the bed, knowing that if you stared at him any longer you wouldn't want to leave the bed. You quietly close the bathroom door behind you before turning on the light. You take your time brushing and flossing your teeth and brushing your hair out of your face, you try not to look at yourself for too long in the mirror. You could see that you were exhausted, the past week not only taking a toll on your mental state, but also your physical. 

You can imagine Lando becoming impatient with how long you were taking in the bathroom if he hasn't fallen asleep yet, so you quickly finish up in the bathroom and shut off the light as you leave. You looked at your bed and for a second you believed Lando had fallen back asleep from how still he was, but you're proven wrong when he grabs the duvet and pulls it back for you, wanting you to lay next to him. Cute. 

You fight the urge of wanting to escape to the living room to study and climb into bed, sliding under the blanket and right next to your sleepy boyfriend. You lay on your side, your hands under your face as you look at a barely awake lando. Lando pulls the blanket up to your shoulders and blinks the sleep out of his eyes, his eyes taking in every inch of your beauty. He could see your exhaustion in your eyes and face, but he thinks you're the prettiest girl ever. 

Lando frowns and tucked the blanket under your neck, his thumb softly caressing your chin “You haven't slept.” 

You didn't bother trying to lie, one you were too exhausted trying to come up with a good excuse and you also know it was no use too anyway. Lando knew you better than anyone else, sometimes even better than you. You sigh and break your eye contact before whispering “I tried.” 

“You should have woken me up, I don't like that you were up alone” Lando continues to frown as he looks at you, feeling guilty because he wasn't up to help you. The thought of you lying awake all night made his heart hurt, he wished you woke him up and he wished he wasn't so tired last night and stayed up. He didn't care if the two of you laid in silence all night in each other's arms, because you would have done it together. 

“I wasn't alone, i had you right next to me” you whispered sweetly as you pulled your hand out from under your face and pushed back his messy hair out of his eyes. A grin spreads across Lando's face at your romantic words and a cute giggle leaves his lips as he quickly moves forward, your body moving to lay on your back as he rolls on top of you. He settled comfortably between your legs, cradling your head with a gentle touch, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on your nose. 

You giggle at the sudden change of position and scrunch your nose at the feeling of his soft lips on your nose, pecking it several times; he knew it made you ticklish. Your hands move up to hold his wrists as you look up into his beautiful eyes, your legs wrapping around his waist under the blanket. He holds your face softly, making sure you keep your eyes on him as he tries his best to make his voice sound stern “I’ll always be with you angel, but you need to rest. you've barely gotten any sleep all week.” 

“I ⸺ “ 

“I'll help you study later; I promise. Just take a little nap with me . . . please” he quickly cut you off, his tone trailing off to a slight beg. He already knew what you were going to say, telling him how you desperately needed to study and that you couldn't waste any time. But he had full confidence in you, he knew you would do just fine in your exams, you were just psyching yourself out to an extreme. 

Lando didn't break eye contact with you as he pulled out his secret weapon that always works on you, a small pout with his puppy dog eyes. You sigh as you look down at his lips, knowing what he was pulling on you and there was no way you could say no to those eyes, and you knew he wasn't going to stop until you agree “Hmm fine.” 

Lando grins and kisses your nose one more time as he brings one of your hands down to pat your thigh, you unwrap your legs around his waist and sit up on your elbows as lando drops to your side, your body wanting to reach out for his warmth that you were already missing and craving. Lando lays on his back and opens his arms for you. 

You scoot closer to lando and he pulls you into his arms and into a tight but comfortable hug, your head rests in the crook of his neck while you drape your leg over his midsection. Lando slips one of his hands under your shirt and starts rubbing your back, your eyes fluttering close at the soothing and comforting touch. Lando fights back a yawn and places a kiss on the top of your head before whispering, “I’ll be right here the whole time, i got you okay.” 

You know what he meant, he wanted to let you know that you were safe in his arms, that you had nothing to fear, that he would protect you from your nightmares. Tears well in your eyes, because of the exhaustion or from the strong feeling of love you felt for him . . . you had a feeling it was the latter. You lean your head back, the movement catching lando’s attention and the two of you lock eyes as you spoke softly “I love you.” 

Lando used his free hand that wasn't rubbing your back and gently grabbed your chin, tilting your head up more so he could lean down and take your lips into his for a slow but passionate kiss filled with love and reassurance. The kiss didn't last long but it took both of your breaths away. He slowly pulled away from your intoxicating lips and watched as you laid your head back on his chest, your body melting into his with tiredness. The sound of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. He whispered breathlessly as his hold on you tightens, his own eyes closing. 

“I love you more, now sleep darling.” 

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( GAWD I HAVE SUCH A WEAKNESS FOR SWEET BF LANDO 😭 AND CONGRATS ON P3 LAN !!! )

°. — taglist ( @iloveyou3000morgan @copper-boom @cixrosie @partyinpitlane @ophcelia @toasttt11 )

[targaryenluvs]

— ALL GROWN UP

pairings: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

summary: you were always tigris's annoying rich friend to coriolanus, but once he returns from 12 you seem to be irresistible, not only to him.

warnings: normal coryo in all honesty, jealousy, flirting, p in v, oral (m), choking, kinda subby coryo - for a bit, time gap he spent a year in 12 (i got lazy this is short and basically just porn with slight plot)

a/n: hehehehe first fic of 2024 kiddos besides the klaus one!

your laughter was the last thing coriolanus wanted to hear, ever. it was still annoying when he was here, and it was still once he returned.

"there's no way!" tigris giggled a loud as you joined in.

"tigris?" he called out to her, waiting. "coryo!" tigris yelled as she ran to him, his arms open for her. "it's so good to see you, you’ve been so busy." you laughed, "your hair, it's worse in person." would you shut up? who were you to interrupt a family-

your night dress was black, short, barely below your crotch. lace details, messy hair, you were nothing short a of a dream, and it was messing with his head. he was so use to hating you, your stupid gorgeous face and here he was, dumbstruck. “y/n?” you nodded with a sweet smile, “how are you coriolanus?”

he sighed, “exhausted, between the university and dr gaul, it seems i’m stretched thin these days.” you nodded along, “it seems you’re well on your way to success.” he inhaled, not use to your kind words, “thank you.”

apparently you were staying with the snow’s for a week or so, much to coriolanus’s elation. surprisingly, in the time he’d been away you’d become, tolerable. it sure as hell had nothing to do with the sway in your walk, your sweet eyes looking up at him and your new found confidence, no he just felt nice.

he was itching to get a taste.

he’d seen you out and about, talking with almost all the people around. a kind smile aimed at quite literally everyone. almost every guy in the restaurant seemed to know you, and he couldn’t help but feel annoyed.

didn’t they know you came for lunch with him?

shouldn’t they know better?

you weren’t his, yet.

it was late at night, you needed something to drink.

grandma’ams tea isn’t exactly the most refreshing. you were in the midst of scouring the kitchen for a teabag of actual flavour when you’d heard him behind you.

“looking for this?” he held the jar in his hands, “actually, yes.” you walked over to grab it and he only held it higher, “coryo, please.” he grinned, “coryo huh?” you placed your hands on your hips, annoyed, “yes, now if you don’t mind.” the jar clattered on the counter and you quickly swiped it away. “would you like some?”

in the reflection of the glass cabinet, you saw him shake his head, “i’m in the mood for something else.” you giggled at his vagueness, “oh? and what might that be mr snow?” his smirk was all you needed to know what he was hinting at. “you’re playing a dangerous game here coryo,” he feigned confusion, “am i now?” you smiled, “yes you are.” he was behind you now, breath heavy and hot on your shoulder, “i might be, question is, are you willing to play?”

his lips were on your neck, light as ever, open mouthed kisses all the way up to your cheek. “cory” he gathered your hair, swinging it over your shoulder, “cory? that’s new.” you smiled, “i know. i’m going to take a shower, wanna join? to conserve water of course.” as if they need to, they had more than enough money now.

“to conserve, of course.”

the hot water rose steam, surrounding you as coryo watched from outside. the fog covered up all the parts he wanted to see, and his night pants seemed smaller. soap running all over you, soft hands trailing down. “i think you’ll get a much better view from in here.”

he ripped his clothes off, practically stumbling around in the soft glow of the guest room lamp. he’d been waiting for so long. ten minutes. his hands massaged your scalp, washing it off remaining shampoo and conditioner. ridding your body of any soap, your shoulders, your stomach, your thighs.

and soon enough he pressed you against the wall, imprints of hands staining the glass. you were both unbearably needy, messy kisses and desperate touches. you revelled in his grasp, you felt as if your skin was on fire. “y/n, please.” he whined. you giggled at his begging, “please what coryo?” you stroked his dick as he groaned out, “suck me off. now.” you laughed at his words, “pretty bossy for someone who was whining like a little bitch two seconds ago.” he was about to protest but your warm mouth on him seemed to shut up all forms of protest.

“oh god.” he leaned his head back on the wall as you dug your nails into the back of his thighs. the water pouring down on the two of you made coryo glisten, his abs looking especially sweet. droplets of water fell down from his hair onto you.

as if you weren’t enough the view of you on your knees, your tuts on display was more than enough for him to explode down your throat. “fuck, when did you learn to do this slut? you been practicing f’me?” his attempt at regaining control had you suppressing your laughter.

but his hand in your hair tugging you to your feet, crazy eyes and a very attractive smirk? “only for you cory.” you wrapped your arms around his neck and gently kissed him, “all for me.”

“please, cory. i need you.” you leaned your head against his as he directed his cock to entrance, teasing you. “you want it?” you nodded your head vehemently, “god just please, fuck me.” he kissed your cheek before pushing in, “anything you say baby.” you moaned out at the feeling of him in you, filling you to the brim. you felt unbearably hot, between the running water and coryo rutting into you it felt like heaven.

you can feel the wetness dripping down your thigh, mixing in with the water, “messy girl, aren’t you?” your hands dug into his shoulders almost painfully, “jump up.” wrapping your legs around of his waist, his hands cupped your ass. his pace is unbelievably brutal, “such a bitch to me, making me look weak.”

you shook your head, “didn’t mean to, didn’t mean to i swear.” you mewl, hot tears streaming down your cheeks, as coryo lets out throaty groans.

“stop crying.”

“i can’t, you feel so good!”

“stop crying or i’m not gonna let you cum.” his hand tightened around your throat, cutting off your airway. the dizziness paired with his thrusts inside of you was absolutely delicious. he let up only to mark you before returning to it.

“not yet," his grip around your throat tightened as coryo continued thrusted into you, obviously chasing his own high. "you'll cum when i do.” please cum. you thought, please please please.

his hips slowed down as he groaned, “fuck, all for me yeah? all grown up, aren’t you baby?” your nails marked up his back as he grunted, the hot water seemed to make the fresh marks hurt all the more. coriolanus loved the stinging, almost as much as he loved your cunt.

“cum, cum for me.” you weren’t sure if your release came before or after, but all you felt was unwavering pleasure and relief. you rested your head in the crook of his neck, you were so exhausted. “you did good, so good y/n.” coryo praised you as he pressed kisses to your forehead.

“let’s get you cleaned up yeah?”

[catboyieejeno]

sitting pretty : jaemin ꒰୨୧꒱

cw: jaemin x inexperienced (?) reader, pwp, established relationship, fem! reader, jaemin has a teeny bit of a corruption kink, explicit smut, size kink, mutual masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, so many pet names, jaemin being so sweet wc: 2.6k

18+ minors do not interact!

you’re sitting at the foot of the bed in only the littlest shirt, snugly fit on your breasts, and a pair of soft, pink cotton panties. your feet are tucked under your bum and you’re slightly bouncing in anticipation. you’re being so good, despite the burning need that blossoms between your legs, and you know being good gets you rewarded. you haven’t checked, but from the way the material sticks to your center, it’s safe to assume you’ve pooled your underwear with your arousal. 

jaemin, seemingly unphased, lies on his side facing you, head propped up straight on his hand so he can gawk at the way your nipples poke through your shirt. his eyes take in every bit of your skin, as they do every single time you’re on display for him, before his lips part slightly. 

“you’re so stunning,” he murmurs, bringing your hand to his mouth so that he can press a kiss to your knuckles. a slight pout forms on your lips and your shoulders slouch slightly. this doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, who blinks up at you in concern. “what’s wrong, doll?” 

“why—” your eyes dart around as red spreads across your cheeks, “why won’t you… fuck me,” 

“huh?”

“i mean…” you sigh, “if i’m so stunning, why don’t you ever fuck me…is it because you don’t want to?” 

“oh, baby,” he coos, leaning up to hold your chin between his thumb and forefinger, “you have no idea how bad i want to. i was just getting you ready for me,” he gives you a soft kiss, which you return effortlessly, “don’t wanna hurt my pretty baby,”

“i can take it!” you assure him eagerly, sitting up straighter, “i want to take it, wanna make you feel good,” 

he tuts as his dick jolts in his pants, your words riling him up more than you could begin to imagine; he doesn’t show it in his voice, though, which remains steady as he nods, “alright. let’s work up to it then, yeah?”

despite having made you come on his tongue and fingers a number of times before, he’s been adamant about not fucking you just yet. he’s been patient, caring, and gentle, in the bedroom and out of it, tending to your needs just how he knows you like it. truthfully, there’s nothing he wants more than to sink himself into the heaven that is your pussy, but he’s known from the first time he felt the grip of your walls around his fingers that his length simply would not fit in such a tight, little space. 

he’s since had to resort to a form of size-training, something he didn't think he would enjoy nearly as much as he does. he takes great pleasure in the process of prepping you, though, sometimes even coming in his pants just from the sight of you all dazed and high off your fourth orgasm. 

jaemin’s eyelids suddenly get oh so heavy, large hands trailing up your smooth thighs and finding solace on your hips when you crawl onto and settle down in his lap. your panties are pressed against your core, marking every curve of your folds. even if jaemin hadn’t seen your pretty pussy countless times before, he’s sure he could make out every detail just from the outline alone. 

there’s a light blush on your cheeks when you wrap your entire hand around his index finger, drawing the digit up to your mouth to suck on it. a lazy smile falls on jaemin’s lips as he watches you—decidedly, if his little angel wasn’t so soft and fragile, he would’ve spun the two of you around and fucked you into the mattress from this action alone. 

his focus is unfaltering as little mewls start leaving your puckered lips. your hips swivel, giving an experimental roll against his bulge, and you shudder at the feeling. 

he watches eagerly as the material brushes against your cunt. when you repeat the action, it’s with a certain precision, and then you do it again, and again. at first, he thinks you’ve found the angle or spot that best stimulates your clit, but then, his eyes leave the area where your bodies meet and he notices in your curious expression that you are in reality, watching him. you’re trying to tease him, get him off… and god, is it working. 

“jaemin…,” 

“i know, sweetheart. let me help you,” he scoots you down his thighs just enough to pull his length free from his boxers, “we’re gonna try something first, to get you all nice and wet for me,” 

“but i am wet for you,” 

“patience, baby. i promise you’re gonna like this. said you wanted to make me feel good, right?” you nod, “so, give me your hand,” your obedience earns you a low hum of approval, and he molds your palm over the head of his dick. then, he gently moves aside your panties with his free hand to reveal your glistening folds. he brushes his thumb against it to collect some of the slick, all the while guiding your hand up and down his length. through tightened teeth, he instructs you, “I want you to match my pace, okay?”  

“mhm,” 

he releases your hand to hold your hip once more as his thumb begins slow, dragging circles on your clit. Instantly, he sees you shiver at his actions, and you pump his head slowly to fulfill his earlier request.

he takes care to spread your folds, listening intently for the sticky sound of your wetness squelching against his digit.

you do just as he asks, pumping quicker when his thumb speeds up, and slowing down as best as you can when he does the same. It’s torturous, the constant change in pace—the push and pull that brings you close to coming, then drags you away. 

“such a good girl,” he praises, noticing your incessant pants. you’re writhing on his lap, grinding yourself into his hand in hopes of reaching your release. when he doesn’t make a move to go any faster, you take matters into your own hand, jacking him off. jaemin gasps, placing his hand over yours. 

“those weren’t the rules, baby,” 

“I don’t care,” you whine breathlessly, “just want your cum,” 

he scoffs, peeling your hand off. his thumb continues to work you as he seethes, “you want my cum? think you can take it? then sit on it.” 

“what?” 

“you heard me. want my dick that bad? sit on it, angel.”  

you consider his offer for a moment, then sigh out at the virtue of the pleasure he’s giving your bud right now. you need to come so bad, you have been so good—he’s teased you for so many days in a row and you haven’t complained once until now. despite the nerves bubbling in your stomach, you decide the prize of feeling him fill you up is much too tempting to pass up. If you could take three of his fingers, surely, you could take him, too. 

with unsteady legs, you lift yourself up a bit, aligning yourself with his dick. the size of his length is much more intimidating all of a sudden, now that you know you’re moments away from sinking down on him. by the looks of it, it could easily reach your belly button. he notices your hesitation, but you bite back your concerns and gulp, refusing to cower now—jaemin would just torture you all over again. you’d never hear the end of it, taunts about how he knows what was best for you and how you should always listen to him. you had to do this, you wanted to. 

you let out a shaky sigh slip past your lips as his tip pushes past your narrow entrance, squeezing your eyes shut at the burning stretch. your mouth forms an ‘o’, but no noise comes out. inch by inch, you sink lower, jaemin’s eyes trained fiercely on you to watch how far your stubborn tantrum will take you. 

“how’s it feel, sweet girl?” 

“good,” you reply through your teeth, even though in reality, it doesn’t feel good at all. It hurts, bad, and you keep your eyes shut so your boyfriend doesn’t see the way tears are welling up in them. but jaemin knows you too well, he notices your tenseness, your body rigid as you struggle to fit all of him. the hand rubbing your waist invites you to relax, but when your ass finally meets his thighs, his dick is so deep within you that it pushes against your cervix. you let out a shaky sob and his features soften. 

“oh, angel.” he mumbles, sitting up gently. his hands fly up to hold your face, “look at me,” 

“so—so big,” you hiccup. 

“i know. i told you so, baby… it’s okay, you’re okay. d’you wanna stop?” 

you quickly shake your head, gripping his shoulders, “no. i want you.” 

“okay, okay,” he nods, “let me help you.” he practically cradles your shaking form and flips the two of you around slowly without pulling out, laying you on your back against the fluffed pillows of your bed. 

“thought you wanted me to ride you,” you whimper, and he shushes you gently. 

“i knew you wouldn’t be able to. just wanted to see how far you’d actually go, but i don’t want you to get hurt anymore, so we’re going to try it like this. if you need me to stop, you tell me and i will, okay?” 

you nod clearly, and he sits back on his heels, keeping only his tip tucked within your walls. softly, he pushes in a bit, then draws back out, groaning at the feeling. when your face softens, he tries it again, until there’s no trace of discomfort on your features. this goes on for a bit, you taking two or three inches of him at most, until he pushes a bit further and you moan out. 

“there we go. that wasn’t so bad, right?” 

“feels so good now.” 

with a kiss to the corner of your mouth, he pushes in again, though he doesn’t bottom out just yet. your pussy flutters around him and your muscles finally fully relax. then, and only then, when your features have become blissful, does he make a move to pick up speed. 

you sigh out, gripping his arms “oh, my god,”

you’re so wet that his dick is glistening every time he pulls out, cunt gushing and squelching around him. he thrusts in deeper still, until finally, his balls hit your ass. 

“you’re all the way in?” 

“stuffing you full, baby.” he confirms.

“it feels so much better than when—” a moan interrupts you when he readjusts, “—than when i tried it,” 

“i know. you wanna sit like this for a bit or do you—” 

“no! I mean… move, please. i want you to move. It feels really good now, jaem, please fuck me,”  

your sweet words make his balls tighten, and he happily obliges, staring to buck into you at his leisure. 

this time, your whines are ones of certain pleasure, and you can’t help but wiggle your hips slightly to meet his thrusts. jaemin isn’t doing anything to hold back his sounds either, and every deep grunt and groan is going straight to your soaked core. there isn’t an ounce of pain left, besides the occasional stretch that at this point, feels delectable, rewarding even. the moment his thumb attaches to your clit again, the feeling in the pit of your stomach starts to grow. 

“jaemin, baby—” 

“taking me so well,” he mutters, “this pretty pussy is all mine, now. all for me to use as i please,” 

the pleas that fall from your lips are borderline pathetic, humiliating even, but the way jaemin’s eyes take you in like you’re the most beautiful and delicate thing only encourage you to get louder. he fucks you faster and brings his hands up to lift your shirt up. your hand cups your own breasts over his and you cry out as he palms it, rolling your nipple between his fingers. 

you undoubtedly enjoy his fingers and you fucking love his tongue, but this feeling is like nothing you’ve even felt before. you can feel every drag of his cock within your gummy insides, every time his tip kisses your cervix… the pressure continues building, so much so that your insides feel like they’re on fire. 

“i’m–i–i think i’m gonna—” the quiver in your voice matches up with your shaking legs, ankles locking around your boyfriend’s waist.

“please come on my dick, sweetheart. shit—need to feel you coming around me,” his voice is tight, and you can tell he’s not far off from his own release. with the way your legs keep him close, it dawns on him that he can't pull out, “baby, loosen up,” he taps your leg, “i can’t hold off much longer with the way you’re milking me,” 

“come inside me,” 

his hips stutter and he blinks down at you, “what?” 

your curled, tear-coated lashes flutter at him and his thumb wipes some drool from the corner of your lips as you plead him, “want your cum inside me, please,” 

jaemin picks up his pace again, and his thumb rubs your puffy clit until you gasp, brows pinching and heat rushing to your cheeks. your pussy convulses around him as you come, gripping any bit of him. his wrist, his arms, his shoulders, his hair—all of them take turns being clutched in your fists as you slur his name, chanting ‘please’ and ‘don’t stop.” 

“good girl. good fucking girl,” 

it doesn’t take long for you to register his load filling you up just moments later, the warm seed coating his dick in a ring of white as his thrusts slow, the only sound left in the room being the pants from both of you. your legs go limb, unwrapping from around him, but he doesn’t move to pull away; instead, he collapses on top of you, but keeping his head up so he can press his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. 

“was that okay?” 

“more than okay,” you reply breathlessly. 

his strokes your hair calmly, waiting until you’ve recovered before slipping out of you and crawling off the bed. A moment later, he’s returned with a glass of water which he hands you, and a towel. slowly, in case you were any kind of sore, he spreads your legs, the sight making him laugh. 

“what’s wrong?” you ask after taking a long drink, leaning up on your elbows to look. 

“nothing in the slightest. m’just admiring,” 

“oh,” you hum. 

aftercare from jaemin is always great, but there’s something different about today—about the way he dabs at you softly with the warm towel, leaving trails of kisses on the plush of your inner thighs, that causes your heart to leap in your chest. when you’re clean, and kissed to his satisfaction, he places the towel aside and grabs a clean pair of panties from your drawer to slide up your legs. 

new boxers clothe him, too, and then he grabs your cup and places it on the bedside table before crawling under the sheets beside you. instantly, you nuzzle your face into his neck and he wraps his big arms around you, tucking you close. 

“does anything hurt?” he whispers, lips pressed against your head. 

“a little sore, i think.” 

“1-10?” 

“hmmm…” you turn to look up at him as you ponder, meeting his pretty eyes, “maybe a 4,” 

“my poor baby,” he mumbles, “i’m sorry,” 

“don’t be,” you kiss him, “i’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.” 

his lips chase yours and he smiles, “yeah? round two?” your eyes widen like saucers and he laughs, “i’m only joking, doll.”

“after a little nap, i’ll be good as new.” you beam, “maybe then, i can try riding you,” 

“patience, baby… we have to ease into that,” 

with a roll of your eyes and a grumble of “you and easing into things, jaemin, i swear–” you lay your head on his chest once more and drift off as he plays with your hair.

‹𝟹

[zzencat]

Your Person When They Realize They Want More With You (+ character traits) - Timeless ⏳

From left to right. Choose the one you can’t take your eyes off of.

Applicable to a current or future person. This is someone that wants to be someone more to you. Warnings: tooth-rottingly sweet. Some suggestiveness. Some angst.

BEFORE YOU CHOOSE. Clear your mind. Time is now patient and still. Close your eyes, inhale deeply, fill your chest up to the fullest, feel the soft air brush up against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out. You may now begin.

———————————

Pile 1. “If we’re both still single by 30, let’s get married.” “Deal.”

•you could be coworkers OR someone who goes in the same direction as you in the morning

• one day, a thought will cross their mind when they’re ordering your favorite so-and-so, maybe coffee, maybe favorite pastry, OR they randomly keep remember weird details about you(?) like “oh y/n likes this…”—cuz they’ll be like “wait…why do I know that? lol why did I just randomly rmr that…” they’ll laugh it off,,,,and then they see you again later and their heart beats a different way…

• they honestly did not see you like this before…

• ear muffs and black sweaters…puffy jackets…perhaps it’s cold/snowing when it hits them how radiant you look

•honestly a very sweet fs. if you’re okay with vanilla people, this is def for you. if not, let’s spice it upppp (you gotta do it)

• it’s weird bc it hits them gradually too. like thinking “why are you still single…why am i still single?”

• you guys have a mature vibe. ^^(relating to previous point) a lot of this pile’s fs will realize their feelings too late or will realize when you’re both financially stable

• maybe you give the vibe you’re not interested in them or you don’t have the intention of getting married—at some point you may have mentioned this to them, sober or drunk, and they rmr it so their being cautious and gauging how you could feel about them, if you feel anything for them at all

• childhood friend kind of energy. I really don’t think you see them in this way either, not until they start acting weird around you. All of sudden, they’re not smiling as much anymore and maybe they’re averting their gaze more

• it sucks bc you’ll question why and will feel weirded out when they start avoiding you, turning down your requests to hang out…

• I’m getting a very empty feel. Either you feel empty without them or they’ve been on dates with other people in the past (you’re wondering how tf they still haven’t settled) and it’s bc they’re not feeling that “unidentifiable”…spark. Like the one they should be feeling on dates with new people, but no…it’s just…dry. They don’t know what it is tho. All of these people are attractive and share the same interests, yet there’s just something missing…

• if you give this a try, you will fall very fuckin hard

• ^^ having thoughts like “how tf do they know how to cook? were they always this hot?” lawd…noticing the small things about them and it’ll get you blushin

• honestly…there’s gonna be a huge difference in communication. you’ll probably be a bit pissed- like “why are you acting so weird? have you been avoiding me?”

• they’d give you all these excuses of why they can’t hang out, and that’s bc they wanna be a lone with their feelings. They’ll try to suppress it at first because there’s just no sign that you like them back, no indication of you even feeling anything romantic towards them, and it kills them…

• I honestly see this person suffering alone from it. They’ve got all this worry and bad energy and it’s not even your fault, so the energy is just going inwards. They can’t express it- they don’t even want to verbally acknowledge it bc they’re THAT sensitive to the fact that they like you and the potential of you not liking them back. It’s really just their own mind and doubts being the bad guy

• why is this happening in a car? 😳 you might have to conjure up a little ruse to get them in one place bc they are definitely avoiding you

• I’m really getting the feeling that you were oblivious. Like it had NOT occurred to you once that they could’ve had feelings for you. The most you would’ve thought of your relationship with them is a friendship

• ^^ bc ngl a prominent portion of this group think the fs is too good for them, like out of their league—both in physical and status

• they could be tall and wear glasses, or fit and good facial bone structure

• if you mention another person (that you could possibly interested in) they’ll purse their lips and play up that they’re happy for you (but trust me, it’s fake as hell and you’ll see it). Like they won’t even be able to hold a real smile bc they’re already hurt by the possibilities. OR they just go quiet and say “oh, really?” *looks down, hands in pockets* if you’re both standing up. If you’re one of the oblivious bunch, you’ll notice their tone change but you won’t understand what’s wrong. (there’s also a split amount of you that would ask what’s wrong and others that won’t)

• BUUUT there’s also a handful of fs in this pile that will look down at their feet, hands in pockets, maybe even wearing a beanie, and will avoid your eyes while passive aggressive shooting down the other person. For example, if you compliment this other person, they’ll quietly be like “well, they’re not THAT good…”

• if you’re not giving any signs STILL? then this person will try to suppress their feelings even more and will start going on dates again. this person isn’t the most optimistic when it comes to this—which I can’t blame them for bc I think you treat them TOO much like a friend or family and joke around too casually with them that they think it’s permanently stuck like that—EVEN THO you haven’t even rejected them. there’s also a chance you’d never even friendzoned them. Perhaps when you two were younger, you were like “ewww 🤮🤮🤮” to the prospect, but now that things are different, you���re not totally opposed to it…maybe it’s crossed your mind once or twice, but you didn’t think much of it really…

•hella puppy vibes from this person tho. either they look the part or act it

•I feel kind of sad for your fs only bc some of you could friendzone them or at least have given off that vibe to them. you would go out to events with this person, even 1-on-1 and not even think of it romantically while your person is feeling this one-sided love

• it’s up to you guys if you want to date this person or not, but if you do, they will literally do EVERYTHING for you- esp the planning

• very strong cold weather, scarves, hot drinks, cold region

•this person tries to invite you out often

• i will also mention, this pile is more likely to date this person than pile 3 is to date theirs

• if you do end up dating, in the beginning stage of this relationship, they’re just shy as hellllll and you’re like “what? 😃” when you catch them staring at you — in the beginning stage, they’re prone to laughing/giggling a lot when yall make eye contact and looking away so you don’t see how flustered they are

• you could be an extrovert OR if not, you just really enjoy being around this person. their personality and presence balances out yours

• you might be unsure of what you want in a romantic partner, open to different cultures/people, kind of in your own world(?) —> like not fixated on one thing or it’s easy for you to get caught up with multiple projects/easily distracted and this person keeps track of you/keeps you grounded

• if you figure out that they have feelings for you, you’ll start to feel bad for not seeing it earlier, you’ll start to hella ruminate about it and the more you think abt them, the cuter and more appealing they seem to you

Points of Interest: infj? overthinker for sure, introvert but still good with people, the color gold, “we’re just hanging out,” going to dinner often, getting mistaken for a couple, 7:43 pm, *shrugs* “idk maybe” (from your side), unwarranted sass (from both sides), no hookups—this person wants a genuine relationship with you, “you have shit taste in love interests”(lmfao???), car fights, “wifey” *takes Snapchat selfie while sitting in the passenger seat with the more feminine energy driving*(…nah listen, if the more masc energy be saying this? dude is immediately submissive), curly hair or FLUFFY hair, lots of thick hair, you make this person feel like a kid…like you bring them back to when they didn’t have to worry about jobs and taxes, financial stability, maturity, miscommunication, amusement park dates, trench coats, “I’m feeling kind sick. Sorry 😞”, excuses, excuses, excuses, “why haven’t you been answering my texts?”, catching them try to shamelessly avoid you at the parking at their workplace, going to movies with this person and them treating it like a date (even when you don’t see it that way), when will they make an actual move??

——————

Pile 2. “What are you looking at?”

• yooo have you been to this person’s house before? 😳👀

•idk if you realize this pile 2, but if it was just the two of you, alone, with some dimmed down lights and faint jazz in the background? it could get down and dirty real quick. but only if you’re not sober and not a stubborn person. otherwise, this person isn’t who you’d initially think of as spouse-material

• I’m pretty sure this person has thought abt it before. 200% sure. Not sure if you’ve caught this, but they check you out a lot. They’ve had their eyes on you for a while…

• idk if they’re a huge flirt or just really gives off sensual vibes, but this person is hot…damn

• something about their eyes. They always look so sensual? Or they look really seductive? They’ve got *those* eyes ykwim? They’re also very laidback so that adds to their sexiness

• I think I lot of people wanna sleep with this person, so you’re in an unsaid “competition” — or at least the people around you see it as such. you might get a few dirty looks or sneaky glances your way from jealous people and it’s honestly tiring. you won’t care but it’s just an extra bug on your shoulder

• an issue tho is that you could find this person untrustworthy or not ready for commitment. they’re just hot AND THEY KNOW IT, so if someone asks them for a piece, they’ll easily give themselves — BUT what you don’t know is that a lot of the fs, NOT ALL, in this pile are very picky with who they want

• if you’re smart, this person could tease you for it. only bc they find it super sexy tho. You’re not exactly friends, just acquaintances/partners in business? People who know of each other because of mutual things or people. They know you secretly want them tho even if you try to keep composure

• I’m sure a lot of this pile thinks this person is conceited as hell or you could even cringe at how they are, and you wouldn’t admit in front of them (not even to yourself) that you do find them attractive

• if you’re stubborn, possess a lot of self control, or perhaps hold yourself and others to a standard, maybe it’s just hard for people to get into your pants in general—but this person will like that. they think you have substance to you and you’re not like the rest

• This person likely has a bunch of yes-men around them. It’s a pretty privilege thing

• pretty mysterious and even prettier eyes

• smth about those eyes man… you’d blow up if you look too long or steam might start coming outta your ears

• a lotttt smarter than they play out to be

• if you’ve never been with this person sexually, they’d be so down. if you’ve hooked up once, they’d hit you up again

• even tho this person seems noncommittal, once they commit, they REALLY do

• this person might be wealthy or has grown up in an affluent space

• OR they’ve grown up playing sports

•I don’t think they view people as “pawns” necessarily. I think you perceive them as super popular but in reality, they only consider a handful of friends, real friends. this person isn’t dumb and they know who kisses their ass

•your deviance will intrigue them. not conforming to what they want and what the people around them are like. you do what you want and they like that. they like that you also don’t settle for less.

•but I have to say, these people don’t chase. If you end up with this person, it’s bc you grew the balls to ask them out and they, impressed, agreed to it. Outside, they LOOK the same- like carry the same expression on dates, but inside, they know there’s something more to you

• it’s most likely an ego thing. They don’t do the asking out if you’re someone minding your own business

• both of you guys have an ego thing tho. This person beats you by a smidge but you think they get too much credit for just…existing.

• they’re thinking how people usually try to get with them, but bc you haven’t yet, that kind of…tugs their attention a bit. (Their spirit doesn’t want me to make it obvious that they’re lowkey affected by it lmfaoo). It’ll hang in the back of their mind, yes, but it’s not something they think about randomly in the middle of the day

• this person has found or will find success early in life…in their 20s or even before. Some of it may be due to their looks getting them the opportunities, but they haven’t done modeling. At least, not for the sake of modeling. I don’t think it’s an interest of theirs. Heavy on business person tho or someone pursuing a profession in business/finance/economics

• this person’s jaw is nicely shaped. they don’t have too much fat around their jaw

• weirdly, they can be smart for their age. I think they feel a bit of pressure from being praised for so long for looking so good that they have to perform at that same level

• there will be chances for you to actually speak to them regularly, but they will seldom make the first move. they want you to pursue so it doesn’t hurt their ego. if they can’t take it anymore, they’ll approach you (preferably at an event or somewhere where youre kind of…disillusioned? stood up, standing alone somewhere feeling insecure abt something…not in the right state of mind/unbalanced mind

•i’m not getting too many extroverts here. high chance a lot of you are introverted and would rather not be at this event. you either pushed yourself to be here or you HAD to be here. the people at this kind of event are not for you…you don’t like a lot of them and some of them feel the same towards you. you don’t care too much tho (maybe a little but not to the point where it hurts your self esteem)

Points of Interest: suits, symmetrical face, blessed features, POSSIBLY MIXED RACE, hazel colored hair, brown or tan skin, hair that compliments skin color, eyes with soul, kinky as hell, realllly good looking, switch in bed, there’s a lot of emphasis on this person’s looks, “don’t try to fight it,” 50 shades of grey (😂?!?), “if you want me, just say so”, any slow Chris Brown song, some fs here has stubble, laidback, single hand in pocket, isn’t scared to make eye contact with you, will leave a conversation with their friend midway to talk to a potential lover/partner in bed interest, zayn malik is not leaving my brain, very slow and sensual vibe, the color black or darker shades, tons of eye fucking (from them to you), intense gaze and especially intense eyes (the staring into your soul type, full of desire and curiosity type), black clothing, mysteriousness, unable to look away, intj vibes

———————

Pile 3. Best friends forever.

• This one feels more sad than the other piles bc it’s just straight up unrequited love (from you). they’ve got the fattest crush going on but you may not feel the same way.

• ^^ damn yeah…i’m getting a mixed bag for this. some of you are open towards it but the other half of you are really not interested

• This person has to have started out as a friend first and then started making subtle, almost too subtle and friendly, gestures that they’re interested in you

• similar to pile 1, you won’t be able to tell that they like you. UNLESS, they get super (very obviously) shy when asking you to go somewhere with them, like a movie or something — and you’ll be able to tell with the stuttering and head scratching and fidgeting, might struggle to make eye contact but will try

• ^^^ The biggest distinction between this pile and pile 1 is that this person is a full on FRIEND. pile 1 is more of friends that fell apart and are reconnecting, while not considered to be a part of your friend group or close friends. in pile 3, there’s an obvious disconnect, like some kind of veil between you two, and it’s really bc they only see you, but to you, this person is a ghost. someone that you really only feel platonic towards.

• they could be soft spoken or has a very… “non-aggressive” voice when speaking to you specifically

• tries to send you funny stuff or make conversation on text — 50/50 answering you right away bc they don’t wanna seem desperate/obvious, but they’ll remember to respond in the same day

• i think they hold back a lot tbh. like they have to sling back to composure whenever you’re around

• stares at you a lot in a group setting

• this person is sooooo similar to pile 1, but more…masochistic? lmfao I mean as in…wanting to be around you even when they know that they don’t have a chance or even after you’d straight up rejected them

• to be honest, there’s a chance you don’t like them that way because of their looks? the personality is perfectly fine but they’re not the type of person you’d go for if you’re looking for someone super attractive (this might be a bit harsh, but maybe a big part of why you’re comfy around them is bc they’re not someone that has model type looks? like it makes you less nervous around them than you would be around someone crazy good looking)

• stalks your social media a lot, doesn’t look at other people. you literally occupy their mind around the clock

• some people here might date this person, only for a little time tho bc there could be someone else you’re interested in, so you end up breaking up. for everyone else, you’re just really unlikely to date this person bc they’re too far from what you consider a romantic partner

• in a monogamous relationship, these are the type of people that would forgive you and welcome you back into their lives if you cheated on them

• an extremely SMALL portion of you, and i mean very small, will actually see this person for who they are and will decide to stay with them. idk if this is out of pity, “oh it’s bc I feel bad for them 🥹”, or possible regret- like “if I don’t date this person, I might regret it”—looking at it like a missed opportunity?? if you genuinely like them and grow fond of them, it will come later and like I said, an extremely small amount of you (~99.9% nonexistent)

• in rejection, this person takes YEARS to get over it. even if they try dating someone else, they’ll think about you and will show care towards you — some will try to be less obvious like “it’s fine i’m over it 🙂‍↔️” but nah, you can feel it. at some point, you could feel annoyed about this

• there’s a small chance that they believe you’ll give them a chance after rejection so they won’t date easily—unless you end up dating someone else and they know abt it, then they’ll do the previous bullet point

Points Of Interest: emotionally masochistic bc they keep wanting to be around you even when they’re hurt (if rejected, this person NEEDS to take some months away from you. idk if they’ll do that right away or not), “nothing else to say”, “that’s okay, I can wait”, awkward, unrequited love, unbreakable loyalty, “aww you’re so sweet”, this person is super rebound energy, gets their heart broken and welcomes the heartbreaker in again, snapback, acne, crooked smile, possible mbti involved (you or them): enfj, enfp, infp, isfj, esfj

———————

Teddy Note: Enjoy this one guys!! As always, thank you for reading. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t :)

Teddy outtt 😎😎😎

[abswhore]

Just a friend.

Summary: You both had agreed to see each other as just friends, but your feelings developed into something deeper.

Pairing: college!fwb!abby Anderson x reader

A/N: hello thank you for taking time to read ! , this is my first post I’m really excited so please give me feedback, also like and comment! They is just a test run sort of thing to see how it goes it’ll be maybe 3 parts to this !

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“I’ll be fine here, go!” You assumed Dina and Nora as you stood at the bar, they had dragged you out of your dorm for a night out but you wasn’t quite feeling it tonight.

You watched as your friends made their way through the pool of people, smiling at them as they danced with each other. You sipped on your drink as you watch not bothering to join them.

A voice from beside you caught your attention, prompting you to look over. And There stood Abby Anderson, the university's star soccer player. "You don’t dance?" she asked.

“No, I’m a horrible dancer.” When you turned to her, you noticed she was leaning in closer, allowing you to take in every detail of her face. She was captivating.

"I'm Abby," she said as she introduced herself. You chuckled softly and nodded, replying, "I know.”

"You know me, but I don't think I know you," she remarked, leaving you wishing you hadn't mentioned that you were familiar with her. "Just joking," she added.

“ I hope I didn’t come off as a stalker I think we share friends.” You added “im y/n.”

"I'm not opposed to having a stalker, especially if they look you," she said, her tone playful and soft. You could feel your cheeks burning as you went quiet, letting the loud music fill the space around you.

Abby sensed the sudden quietness and quickly found a way to redirect the conversation. “So these mutual friends with share, who are they?”

You mentioned the names of several people, and she instantly recognized the group when you said the first name, Ellie Williams.

“Why don't you ever come us when we hang out?" she asked, sipping her drink while keeping her gaze fixed on you.

"I'm usually tied up with work or school," you replied.

"That's too bad; I'd love to see you more often," she teased. "How about we study together sometime?"

"What do you think?" she asked, her voice dipping into a flirtatious tone as your eyes locked. You nodded in response.

"That sounds great," you murmured, just loud enough for her to catch over the booming music, your gaze drifting to her lips.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Abby pushed you against the icy metal of the car door, and as your lips moved perfectly in sync with hers, you realized you had left Dina and Nora behind without a word. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess; one moment you were exchanging flirtatious glances with Abby, and the next, she was pulling you out of the club, almost dragging you along.

The drive to Abby's, which should have taken just ten minutes, seemed to stretch on endlessly as you exchanged messy kisses at every red light. When you finally reached her apartment complex, you both rushed to get inside. You pressed kisses along her neck while she clumsily fumbled with her keys, eager to let you into her home.

You moaned, "Where's your room?" as she finally opened the door, nudging you inside and pressing her hips against your back.

"no room, I wanna fuck you right here on this counter." She murmured in your ear while her hands moved around you, quickly unbuttoning your jeans pulling them down from behind as she moved towards the counter lifting you up placing you on top.

Abby whispered, "pretty," as she slid your panties aside. You gasped loudly when she traced her tongue over your clit, then gently pulled it into her mouth. Your back arched off the counter, and you found yourself gripping a handful of her hair.

The sound of your moans echoed throughout the room as you sensed your hips starting to tense, signaling that your climax was near. “Not yet,” Abby said, rising up and pressing her lips against yours in a messy kiss, allowing you to taste yourself.

You spread your legs wider, feeling her fingers at your entrance as you lock eyes with her. Abby thrusts into you, her two fingers stretching you, and you can't help but cry out, your nails digging into her shoulders.

Abby urged you, her breath warm against your lips, "look at me while I fuck you." As she quickened her rhythm, you matched her movements with your own. "Please, don’t stop," you pleaded, your voice filled with urgency and longing.

The moans grew louder as you reached your peak, your back lifted off the counter. Grasping Abby’s arm feeling your walls tighten around her fingers. Not holding back Abby thruster fasted into you as your body shook, your hand flying to cover your mouth as your chest moved up and down heavily.

Abby smirked as she brought her fingers, coated in your juices , up to your lips, gently tapping your jaw to signal you to open your mouth. As you complied, she slid her fingers inside, slowly pulling them while you savored your own taste.

Abby let out a soft moan as you pulled her into a kiss, and you swiftly hopped down from the counter, shifting your attention to the other woman above you, tugging at her pants. "it's your turn," you whispered, biting your lip in anticipation.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[saerins]

𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆

+ nagi seishiro x f!reader | wc 2.4k | content: fluff, high school setting!, some cursing

notes: this was something requested by an anon !! i realised this prompt was also done in my other fic whole except nagi was the second lead :’) also pleaseeeee excuse me if this is ass because i haven’t written in a long time T_T but i’m working on getting back properly !! <3

summary: he didn’t ask you out because he wanted to, yet nagi gets more than he bargained for in the end.

“so, um, nagi, why’d you ask me out all of a sudden?”

it’s kind of an awkward situation to be in, you think, as you look around the arcade, shuffling your feet beside where nagi’s seated, trying to win some tickets from what you can only assume to be a music machine.

when he’d asked you out on a date yesterday, you didn’t think he’d take you to an arcade, of all places. (then again, nagi asking anyone out is sort of unbelievable, honestly.) if you knew sooner (or if nagi had bothered to tell you), you wouldn’t have worn such a nice dress for today.

besides, you’re not even sure why you’d agreed. call your state half-flustered or whatever, because you heard that nagi seishiro of all people does not bother with human relationships much. you’ve only ever seen him interact with mikage reo anyway—and you’d just chalked it up to him wanting it that way. nagi had never shown interest in girls or romance or that kind of shit, so cue your surprise when he asked you out yesterday, when he saw you at the bus stop.

“hey, wanna go on a date tomorrow?”

you blinked at him, utterly surprised because that was the first time that nagi had ever spoken to you.

“um, where to?” (you were still malfunctioning over the fact that he was asking you out on a date.)

nagi scratched the back of his head, and you could faintly make out reo a few ways behind him, watching on.

“hmm, not sure, i’ll text you tomorrow morning?” he suggested, pulling out his phone. “what’s your number?”

okay sure, you could’ve asked for more details, but it was hard getting nagi to respond to you at all. you’re pretty sure he was gaming, that’s why.

“oh, ‘cause reo asked me to.”

that… was not the answer you were expecting. “reo asked you to?”

nagi has a bad habit of not elaborating. you don’t really like that, because you don’t like asking questions, but you can’t help yourself now. this is too bizarre for you to let go.

“yeah, something about how he’s sick of me playing games all day long, told me to go get a date, then he’d return me my switch,” nagi mumbles, and you can’t help but think that reo’s plan may have backfired, considering how he’s on a date and still playing games.

while nagi’s grey eyes are focused on the screen in front of him, you find yourself drawn to the way he’s sucking in his cheek as he concentrates, the way his bangs fall over his eyes and how his fingers can respond so quickly to the lines on the screen.

“you’re pretty good at this,” you tell him, getting lost in how well he’s playing. the points on the screen gets so high he’s almost nearing the high score.

for a moment, nagi’s distracted by how close you are to him; your hair smells like citrus and it’s really smooth. it’s also the only time anyone other than reo has been this close and you’re not anyone so he doesn’t really see why you’re able to steal his focus from the game.

someone like you shouldn’t make him notice things that aren’t about games or himself.

but you do—and he misses the first note since the start of the game, though he recovers fairly easily.

he doesn’t know much about you, only that you’re in his class and you’re very pretty (now that he’s actually looking at you). you have a really cute laugh too, he realises, right when he wins the game and probably what’s a thousand tickets, with you rejoicing happily beside him.

“oh my god, you’re so fucking good at this,” you’re jumping and giggly and nothing like how quiet you are in school and why does he feel a little giddy knowing that he’s getting to see this firsthand? this doesn’t make sense. “okay, move aside, teach me, i wanna do it too.”

nagi obliges. it’s a pain having to teach someone else compared to doing it himself, he gets to know, as you miss probably half the notes on screen even when he tries to tell you how to do it. hell, he’s not really a good teacher.

you win about 300 tickets.

“not bad for a rookie,” nagi comments as you grab your own pile and stack it in your shared basket. the neon red and blue flashes pretty against your skin. it makes you even prettier, he feels.

you raise a brow. “nagi seishiro, wanna play a bet?”

no, not really. but somehow, he can’t quite turn down a game when it’s from you.

“what’re you betting?”

you hold out the basket in front of you. “i’m gonna find a game where i can beat you.” your chest is puffed out, like you’re determined, like you really believe you can. “if i lose, you can decide my punishment.”

nagi blinks at you. you’re… weird. you make his heart beat faster than usual. it’s a little concerning. “and if you win?”

grinning, you wink at him, “let’s leave that to later.”

whatever possessed him to spend the entire day following you around the arcade and watching you fail, he doesn’t know. you’re pretty bad at everything compared to him, but it’s not really fair—he’s probably spent ten times as much of his days in the arcade than you.

have you ever even set foot in here before?

nagi observes as you try desperately to beat him in ddr. you fail, naturally. your feet coordination really isn’t that good, but it’s pretty cute how hard you’re trying. you’re still pretty even at the end of it, even when you’re sweating and some of your hair is matted against your skin. he keeps that to himself though.

throughout the entire day, nagi finds himself entertained by your persistent insistence to beat him at something. it’s funny how you’re awful at the arcade games. it’s also funny how you’re honestly trying. it’s really no use but here you are, sweating once again from shooting hoops.

your 64 versus nagi’s 154.

“wow, you’re really bad at all these games,” nagi murmurs when he sees your score. “wanna go somewhere else?”

you’re quick to open your mouth but it takes you just as quick to shut it, probably knowing you’ll never beat him. at least, not today. “fine, you win,” you say through gritted teeth. you’re a little prideful; nagi’s learning a lot about you. “what do you want?”

nagi seems to have forgotten your earlier bet. he just shrugs and tells you to choose what you want at the exchange counter.

“you don’t want anything?”

nagi looks at the prizes with such disinterest it makes you wonder what can interest a guy like him. he shakes his head, “i can get anything i want anytime anyway.”

(the underlying insinuation that coming to the arcade with him is your only chance to win prizes flies right over your head.)

but when nagi looks at your slightly disappointed face, he tries to backtrack. “i’ll let you know when i think of something i want since i won,” he says, looking away from you. “but you choose one of the prizes today.”

turns out it’s so easy to please you. just like that and that smile is back on your face.

you choose a big goddamn pink teddy bear by the way. nagi sighs as he leaves the arcade with you. it’s probably a character nagi doesn’t know. he’s judging you, but then you hug it and smile at him and he forgets what he’s thinking about.

“i know this was only because reo asked you to, but…” you mumble after you and nagi both finished eating dinner, sitting across from each other at the ramen shop. “it was fun.”

nagi’s not sure what this is. just a customary thing where you’re showing appreciation for the time you two spent together today? you’re looking away from him though, he’s pretty sure normal customs don’t dictate that. he’s pretty sure you’re supposed to look at him when you say that.

“why’re you looking away?”

you look at him in blank shock (an expression that he doesn’t know how to process—what’s so weird about asking you that?) before you smile helplessly. “you’re very weird, nagi seishiro.”

“what do you mean?” nagi’s clueless, in that nagi seishiro way only he can be.

a few seconds of silence pass when you try to make up your mind. it’s unnerving how big and wide his eyes are, especially when they’re focused only on you and nothing else. in the end, you manage with a shake of your head.

“it’s nothing,” you decide. telling him of your possible crush on him would not do any good, you guess.

something bugs nagi; he can’t understand what it is. he just knows something feels off but it’s not like he’s ever felt this particular kind of irk—he doesn’t know what to do.

when the time comes to leave the restaurant, nagi finds himself walking the opposite way to his home because you started walking first.

somehow, his feet follows you.

it’s stupid—walking this far away from the direction of his home is troublesome. it’ll be a hassle to get home when his bus is on the other side of the long gone restaurant. why is he walking you to the train station again when he’ll just see you next week anyway? you’re in the same class.

“oh, are you gonna take the train too?”

nagi blinks at you, drawing a blank at your question. he must’ve completely zoned out. did the both of you get here in complete silence?

“no,” he answers honestly. he doesn’t elaborate. as usual.

by now, that doesn’t surprise you. instead you just nod your head, a hesitance borne in the shuffling of your feet. “well,” you drawl out, dragging the syllable, somehow hoping this wasn’t the end of the night but it is. “this was a nice one-time date,” you settle for, smiling. you’re about to just say goodbye, but you bite on your bottom lip, contemplating, before you slip his phone out of his hand and slide the screen to the side, taking a picture of the both of you together, nagi looking at the screen in surprise and you winking beside him.

when you hand it back to him, you bite your inner mouth, trying not to grin. “in case reo asks for evidence,” you offer as an excuse. you totally didn’t want to take a picture with nagi. “he better give you your game back!”

nagi gets this fleeting feeling that he doesn’t know how to explain when he sees you smiling at him. like how you remind him of the color gray. not because it’s bland but because it’s his favourite color. you remind him of spring and the cool breeze and how refreshing it feels.

“it was a nice one-time date, nagi seishiro,” you chuckle before you turn around, ready to head into the station and probably never spend such time with nagi again. you’ll probably get over the sadness of what could’ve been pretty quickly. you think.

but just before you can enter, you hear the firm steadiness in nagi’s voice. “no.”

you whip your head around, not quite sure you heard him right. “no?” you narrow your stare a little, moving out of other people’s way as they push past you into the station. “as in, you didn’t like it?”

you hope he doesn’t mean it like that.

nagi looks away, earnestly processing it. it came blurting out of him, he didn’t even know what he said until he said it. “i won the bet and what i want is… this. again. with you.”

the implications of his words slowly sink in and it has you feeling giddy. nagi, the guy who barely cares about anything nor makes the time for anyone—is he actually telling you this? is he really saying he’d take you out more?

meanwhile, nagi’s feet stay firmly planted where he is, wondering why you make him feel like this, why you make him feel like he can’t get enough. you’re just… you. before today, he could honestly say you were insignificant. but just the way you are; how you speak, your smile, your laugh and your resilience—nagi likes it, finds comfort in it, somehow.

“then,” you say as you enter the station, face giddy with the excitement of something new blossoming. “i’ll wait for more dates with you, sei.”

the way you call him that makes his heart skip a beat and he’s left blankly staring at your figure as you retreat into the station, stealing his heart with you.

“fine, fine,” reo sighs. it’s two days later on a monday and reo grudgingly gives nagi back his switch. “so, what’d you two do anyway?” he asks, shifting his gaze between nagi and you, though you’re at the other end of the classroom, talking excitedly to your friends.

nagi’s attention quickly transfers to his switch, already opening up a game to play. “nothing much,” is all he offers, and reo’s beginning to think maybe it was more of a punishment for you than a date.

reo sighs again, ready to lecture nagi for being the worst date ever when he pulls up his phone to look at the time. but he accidentally takes nagi’s phone instead, unlocking it to find his own chat thread—to which nagi doesn’t even bother saving his name (reo side eyes him but nagi doesn’t even realise).

that doesn’t surprise him, but what does is when reo realises your contact is saved—with the icon being a picture of the two of you together. you must really be something to be able to make nagi do something so idiotic like this.

“oi, nagi.”

nagi only responds with a raise of his brow. he’s still clicking away at the controls. reo guesses it must be a racing game from those sounds.

“if you guys get married i better be the best man for being your matchmaker,” reo teases, his grin filling his face.

even though nagi doesn’t respond, the champagne pink that brushes across his cheeks is enough indication to reo of nagi’s feelings for you.

looks like he never needed to worry after all.

[onsomenewsht]

'cause everybody knows something I don't wanna know

About when, despite the victories and the defeats, you still talk a bit too much, but all the questions are answered

《 read part 1, I just wanna feel something, tell me where to go

》 Alexia Putellas x fencer!Reader

》 words count: +4.5k

》 move mountains [idiom]: to do something that seems impossible, particularly when love or belief makes one feel determined to succeed in something incredibly difficult to achieve

“En garde!”

The weight of the blade in your hand is familiar, well balanced as you adjust the position of your feet on the piste.

“Prêtes?”

A cocky smirk appears on your opponent’s face, somehow not disguised behind the mask tinted with the Hungarian flag. It just sparks more determination inside you, fuelling a fire that will burn ‘till the very last point.

“Allez!”

You know she’s coming even before her body moves in a leap, the sabre twitching to surprise you with a low line attack. A quick step on the side is enough to gain the space you need for a clear defense, deflecting her blade away from the target and sliding your own on her back.

A red light turns immediately on, firing up your side of the fencing piste.

The referee gestures in your direction to confirm the touch, the score is now 10-13.

With not much time left to catch up to your opponent’s advantage before the end of the second period, the need to start another assault overcomes the joy of the successful hit.

Three points behind, you can’t concede anything, you know that, but every single person in the arena thinks you’re desperate to land as many touches as possible.

However, you’re not desperate.

You’ve never been desperate in your entire fencing career, and you’re not tonight, at the dusk of your Olympic experience.

For once, for this last dance with the gods and goddesses of the sports, it’s all about being present and enjoying every moment.

~

“Look, this could be us if you let me take you out on a date”

Barely awake to register your words and definitely not enough to deal with your overexcitement this early in the morning, Alexia just takes the phone you unceremoniously put on her face as soon as you spot her eyes opening.

The article on the screen reports about "the 9 couples who competed at the Olympics together and won" with great details and pictures. She’s definitely not going to read it.

“We don’t play the same sport”, she states.

“Not the point of the article”

“We don’t even compete for the same country”

“Still missing the point”, you roll your eyes unimpressed, knowing she’s once again just avoiding the topic.

Or trying to annoy you for the abrupt wake up.

“We’re not together–”

“Yet!”

The footballer isn’t able to hide the smile that rises on her lips, yours is always so contagious. She hands back the phone, turning on her side to face you properly. The light sheets now barely cover her body, exposing a couple of darkening marks.

Not letting your gaze wander is, ‘till this day, the greatest display of strength and self-control you had to perform.

And you came back from the Olympic Games just a couple of months ago.

“We’re not together yet ‘cus you don’t let us go out on a proper date!”

It’s Alexia’s turn to roll her eyes, but the redness that tints her cheek is much more difficult to hide than your disappointment.

The two of you meet a few times since the Closing Ceremony, both with medals hanging from your necks and a strange force in your chest pulling one towards the other – despite everything.

Despite the older woman insisting it can’t work.

Taking advantage of a moment of distraction, you push her back onto the bed, sliding one leg over her body and successfully holding her hands above her head. The blush spreads on her face and your grin grows, but when you find her eyes, you make sure she knows you deeply mean what you’re saying.

“I just need a chance, Alexia”

“I’m–”

“Just give us a chance”

~

Fencing is a strange combat practice.

“En garde!”

Doesn’t matter how many times, how hard, or where you’re hit.

“Prêtes?”

You’re immortal.

“Allez!”

The only touch that kills you is the 15th one.

You launch yourself at the Hungarian girl, knowing that to win the game she just needs to land two more attacks or rely on your mistakes. She’s pushed to the very end of the piste, her sabre desperately circling around yours to defend her target, while her foot is moving quickly to avoid a step behind – a step that could mean one more point for you.

An idea comes up as you intentionally let your attack fall short, fooling your opponent to advance. Her front leg extends in a forward motion, pushing with the back foot to create more energy and gain space from the end line.

She’s exactly where you need her.

With a clean parry, deflecting her blade away, you successfully withdraw her line and gain right-of-way to attack. Now vulnerable and off balance, you just have to press the tip of your sabre on her shoulder.

The piste lights up with a vivid red and, a second too late, bright white reports her no valid touch.

11-13.

In your corner, your maestro is nodding his head slowly and suggesting you the next move with rapid motions of his hands.

Not a man of many words, someone could say, but you like him like that.

He knows exactly when to spur your competitiveness and hunger to win, when to keep your feet steady on the piste, and when to let you be.

~

“You know, I think I wasted my entire life”

Alexia moves her hands from your back to your shoulder, raising a sceptical eyebrow at your statements but now used – and resigned – to your questionable sense of humour.

“I’m made to be a wag”

As her head drops down and her eyes light up with pure amusement, you can’t help but think you want to be able to do this for the rest of your life. Managing to make her laugh so openly and carefree is still one of your biggest accomplishments.

“I have to say, you do look good”, the footballer points to the jersey you’re wearing, blushing a bit at the thought of her name on the back.

She can just hope you will not notice, blaming the effort the past 90 minutes demanded from her.

“Better do, I don’t know how much longer I can keep rocking Barça merch for”

“Good for you, there’s only one game left”

“Bold to you to assume I’m stopping at the Champions League, Putellas”, you reach out to drop one arm around her shoulders to hold the Catalan in an embrace you’re now really familiar with, “There’s a World Cup title to defend next year, I’ve already cleared my schedule”

~

Coming from a family of respected and accomplished athletes of the sport, the road ahead of you is marked out with the characteristic arch of a fencing blade since you’re old enough to hold the weapon properly.

Probably even before that, knowing your parents.

“En garde!”

The techniques of parring and thrusting, the movements of feet dancing on the piste, the special feeling of the blade as an extension of the body. You master all before you’re actually ready to admit the desire to make fencing a living, not just a passion passed on or a demanting hobby.

Hating the sport could have been so much easier, blaming the ‘nepo baby’ status either you succeeded or you turned out not to be up to it.

“Prêtes?”

But you love fencing.

“Allez!”

And you’re damn good at it.

A couple of steps into the assault, you take advantage of a moment of hesitation in the Hungarian’s preparation to perfectly timing your next move. Pushing from your front leg with impressive force, your body flies high to quickly cover the gap that divides the two of you. The jump allows you to deliver the attack slightly earlier than expected, striking your sabre against your target with no mercy.

The red light turns on as the crowds erupt in cheers, 12-13.

~

“Shouldn't I be the nervous one?”

Alexia’s hand finds yours before you’re even able to register her comment, stopping you from biting your nails off. She pulls it away and kisses your knuckles, keeping her eyes on your tense body.

The drive through the countryside’s streets is slow and calm, giving the footballer the time to appreciate the view but also a clear idea of how little you want to arrive at your parent’s villa.

A summer break under the Italian sun looks like a great idea, taking your girlfriend to your favourite hidden gems all around the country and finding together new places for new memories is just what you two need.

And it’s perfect, until your mother calls to invite you to spend the weekend with them.

“It can’t be that bad”

“You know my parents”

“I don’t, actually”, she argues, honest but not unkind.

It’s not like you don’t want Alexia to meet your family, she had bumped into them on several occasions and had brief conversations with them when their paths collided in your life.

A formal meeting though? Two entire days with your parents at their summer house? Sounds like hell to you.

“They’re going to be obnoxious and stern without reason”

“I can deal with them”

You stop at the side of a deserted road, too close to your destination for your own liking. Needing some time to prepare yourself and your girlfriend for the upcoming and unnecessary drama, the unplanned break looks like the best compromise over turning the car the other way altogether.

“I know you can deal with them, I don’t want you to”

That sounds wrong.

Alexia’s face contorts slightly, even if you’re perfectly aware she’s trying to understand you without just assuming you don’t want her to enter your family’s bubble.

“I’m not making any sense”, you state, taking a long breath in and relaxing at the feeling of the Catalan’s hand still holding yours.

“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to”

“No, I– Ale, my parents aren’t bad, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they are good. I told you what my childhood looked like. I had everything I’d ask for, and I’m grateful for that, but–”

When you meet her eyes you find complete support and desire to know how to take this pressuring weight out of your chest.

You never felt more cared for in your life.

“I met your family, I’ve been in your house. It feels like home, warm and lived, and– I can’t explain, but your family feels like a hug. My family?”, you scoff, trying to find the right words, “My family feels like a distant pat on the back on the good days. I don’t want you to feel like that, I want you to feel all my love”

She doesn’t let your hand go to gently hold your face with her free one, her thumb wiping away the traces of tears from your cheeks.

She makes sure to have all your attention, she makes sure to convey all her love for you.

“I’ll be your hug”

~

The protests of the younger opponent are cut short by the referee, who gestured for the two of you to take the centre of the piste.

“En garde!”

An old maestro, one of the unfortunates who had to train you when you were an annoying and reckless teenager, demanded from you absolute control of your reactions every time you landed a hit.

“Prêtes?”

You used to never celebrate any point but the last one.

“Allez!”

You don’t hold back anymore.

The Hungarian’s steps are now more calculated, jumping forward every now and then but keeping a fair distance from you and your sabre.

Fencing has taught you a lot about discipline and respect, you’re grateful for how much you’ve grown thanks to the sport. It was a long way from a tiny hyperactive kid, who just wanted to win and couldn’t accept any decision against it, to where you stand now.

Sometimes you still feel like that kid.

You hold your ground, you don’t rush the action just for the sake of it. Keeping up the pace of the assault, your blade finds the opponent’s one in rapid motions of attacks and responses without any real commitment to push for the point.

Other times you wish you were still that kid.

Suddenly, you both launch forward – aiming for a different target but with the same purpose. While she uses her front leg and an elusive movement of her arm to find your shoulder, your back leg slides and your body extends lower, trying to catch the other fencer by surprise.

The blades collide several times in a rapid succession of parries and responses until the piste lights up and you both pour out in celebration, claiming the touch.

You don’t hold back anymore, you have nothing to prove.

You don’t have to prove you’re worth your family’s name, you don’t have to prove you’re good enough to compete with the bests of the world in the biggest stages.

You don’t have to prove anything to anyone but yourself.

When both signals indicate the hit, it rests upon the referee to decide which fencer scores the point – retracing the entire action and giving their interpretation of it.

If they say the point isn’t yours, you have to accept the decision.

It goes without saying that you are not happy with it when the referee indicates your opponent when conferring the point.

12-14, it doesn’t look good for you.

~

Your pacing around the rooftop is frenetic, quite comical if seen from outside.

A gust of wind makes your exposed skin shiver, blowing your hair and completely ruining the intricate style you spend almost an hour on. It could also be your nervous hands making, but you’re not going to blame yourself for that too.

“Can you just stop?”

“No, Alexia, I cannot!”

The footballer covers the distance between the two of you in a few, determined steps. Her dress moves in a way that perfectly highlights the curve of her body and the definition of her muscles.

You could be fixed on your fiancé, devoting your attention completely to her, if you’d not be too preoccupied with freaking out.

“It’s not working”, you state.

“You really think that?”

Another shiver runs through your back, this time caused by the thought of the ending of your relationship with Alexia. Do you really think it’s over?

“We’re planning a wedding and we’ve never been in the same city at the same time for more than three consecutive months”

“Since when has that been a problem?”, she asks, holding you by your arms and never dropping her gaze, “We deal with the distance just fine. We go on dates and spend time together, we communicate and we are honest, we are there for each other when it matters”

“I want to be there when it doesn’t matter too”

“What does that even mean?”

The desire of stability and an everyday life that can grow into a future is something you both crave but are too scared to admit to the other.

“I want to be there when you’re back from training and you just want to watch a wild nature documentary, I want to be there for the daily and boring errands like doing the dishes or going to the supermarket just because we’re out of toilet paper”

It’s difficult to build your lives together far away from each other, to then meet and intertwine your paths, just to say goodbye and start all over again.

But the life you’re building is so beautiful.

A life that now looks like a carefully planned date in a stunning location, set up months in advance, or like a spontaneous surprise just because you have a free weekend and a pull from your heart that cannot be ignored.

But a life that soon will look like a walk out with a dog in the middle of the night because you forgot to do it after dinner, or like a weekly double date with your friends at the same restaurant.

A life that now looks like expensive gifts and flowers sent from a different country, but a life that soon will look like an electric bill with both your names on it.

A life that now looks like a shared calendar to make sure you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be, exactly at the right time.

But a life that soon will still look like a shared calendar to make sure you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be, exactly at the right time, just for completely different reasons.

A life you are already building, already living.

“Do you remember when you asked me to give us a chance? Well, now is my turn”

“Alexia, I–”

“Just give us a chance, amore mio”

~

“En garde!”

As a smirk reappears on the Hungarian’s face, you take a deep breath and remember your journey to this very fencing bout.

Your fourth Olympic Games, your fourth Individual Final for a medal.

“Prêtes?”

This could be a poker of victories or a bittersweet send off to the biggest sport stage.

“Allez!”

Sabre is the fastest and most aggressive of the three fencing disciplines, both parts rushing their opponent from the moment the referee commands to commence action. Just to secure a touch as soon as possible.

That’s why sabre fencers purposely take the defensive approach just in really particular situations.

You make a couple of steps forward, faking a lunge, as the young girl let her blade circle around yours without a real intention to engage. The exchange goes on like this far longer than you wish for, you know it’s a matter of moments before someone has to stir the combat.

Learning to understand when to attack and when to wait has been a challenge your entire life – not just professionally-wise. A maybe too talkative kid, a maybe too reckless teenager, a maybe too presumptuous woman.

Always maybe a little too much.

There’s a fairly big distance between the two of you, the Hungarian’s back leg shakes in subtle desire to close the gap and take the initiative.

It’s the hint you need.

Learning to understand your feelings and your emotions, accepting them as they are, doesn’t matter how strong or uncomfortable, has been the real challenge.

A battle you still fight against yourself, against your own mind. A battle no one can really see or comprehend.

You accelerate and move forward, stamping your front foot to the ground and extending your hand, both fainting an attack and disguising your defence stance. The motion is quickly followed by your opponent’s launch, but, tricked by the fast movement of your blade, she completely miscalculates the actual distance between your bodies.

She falls short, and, without time to recover, she has to take your punishment.

A battle you face with yourself, but with people in your corner ready to cheer for you despite the outcome.

Once again, the only light turning on is the red one – the score is now a compelling 13-14.

~

“Oh”

Looking up from the paperwork you’re proofreading, you notice how Alexia stops in the middle of your bedroom with a cup of coffee in one hand and a startstrucked gaze fixed on her face.

“We have to make another one!”, she whisper-shouts as she doesn’t seem able to look away from the baby currently sleeping in your arms.

It’s not the most comfortable position, but it’s too early for you to deal with your six-month old daughter’s fussing and your wife’s quite emotional state.

“We make another one”

“No, now hand me my coffee, please”, you lay the papers on the bed to make some grabbing gestures towards the cup – still in her very still, very far away hand.

“We have to replicate, we have to make another one”

“No, we really don’t”

“Look at her!”

You don’t look at her, finally reaching for your coffee as Alexia comes sitting next to you to gently caress the little girl’s face.

A smile rises on your lips, the picture of your growing family is always able to warm your heart and make up any doubts in your running mind.

Being loved and taken care of is not as hard as you thought it’d be.

It’s simple, it’s comforting.

It’s the hug she promised you, and you feel it wrapping all around your body when you need it the most, and also suddenly, out of nowhere and for no reason at all, in mornings like this one.

“She’s like a white rhino or the Amur leopard”, she doesn’t need to look at you to feel your raised eyebrow, “We fell asleep watching a documentary about the rarest and most critically threatened animals on the planet”

“I can’t leave the two of you alone unsupervised, never again”

“She’s rare, amore mio. We need to create more so the world could be a better place”

Holding back your laughs is getting more and more difficult, restrained just by the idea of waking up the baby still fast asleep. At least the Catalan is keeping her voice down as her enthusiasm runs wild.

As soon as she starts kissing her cheeks you know you’re done.

“Leave her alone, let her sleep”

“I can’t, look at her!”, she pumps your daughter’s nose with a finger, making her steer in your arms with a too-cute-for-your-own-good face.

She’s always reacting to Alexia’s soft touches and whispers.

Your wife’s basically tearing up at this point, too overwhelmed by the moment. At least you can blame the post partum hormones for your now emotional state.

The happiness you feel all around your home? That’s all Alexia’s making.

~

The crowd is loud and beaming, excited for the last tale of this fencing Individual Final and to see who will come out as the winner.

“En garde!”

A quick look at your maestro, he nods with his arms crossed. That will do.

“Prêtes?”

Breathing in and out, you savour every second of this as you find your position. A good preparation means everything in fencing. It’d make the difference in any moment of the assault, in any moment of the entire bout.

You learnt that a good preparation means everything in life too.

“Allez!”

The younger girl moves fast, launching herself forward as soon as the referee gives the go. But you’re prepared.

A good preparation gives you time to watch your opponent, ready to move in either direction you need to. You’re ready to move forward or take a step back, you’re ready to jump or to slide low. You’re ready to do everything you need to not get touched.

You’re prepared for this to be your last time fencing at the Olympic Games, you’re prepared for this to be your last time fencing all together.

The Hungarian tries to take you off balance with a quick sequence of attacks, going for the high hit and then aiming at your exposed target. You parry every single one, predicting her movement with impressive precision.

There are different ways to prepare – the posture, the speed, the steps can be varied, depending on the style of the fencer and on the opponent. There’s no right or wrong way. But you’re prepared for anything tonight.

When you see her going deep, you know how to move to anticipate her blade, rotating yours against it and leaving her target open just enough for you to breathe out and press the tip of the sabre in the middle of her chest.

The red light turns on before the green one, the score now announcing a draw at 14.

~

“This one looks comfortable”, you tap Alexia’s foot, waking her up efficiently from the nap you find her taking.

How can she manage to fall asleep in the most unhinged positions, it’s something you ask yourself to this day. Your daughter takes after her, obviously.

That’s how you find the two of them on the sofa with a National Geographic’s documentary on.

At least the girl immediately stirred up at hearing you coming back home after a couple hours out to run some boring errands.

“I was just resting my eyes”

“Sure”, you bend down smiling, kissing her forehead, “You have training in an hour, coach”

“Plenty of time”

A firm hand finds the back of your neck, holding you in place for a proper kiss. Alexia’s lips are soft and taste like fresh tomatoes and kid’s chapstick – the latter probably your daughter’s doing.

Said daughter now alone and unsupervised in the kitchen.

You reluctantly pull back from the Catalan, leaving a light peck at the tip of her nose as soon as she frowns unhappily about the loss of contact.

“You used to like me”, she complains.

“Good old days, mi amor”

~

Eleven seconds left may be the entire time of a race or may count nothing in some other sports. In fencing, eleven seconds may be the longest time ever or not quite enough at all for a point.

You’re not going to drag this into the final round.

“En garde!”

Breathe in.

“Prêtes?”

Breathe out.

“Allez!”

Smile.

As soon as the referee gives the go, you rush forward with your hand held back – quite a vulnerable move if not for the four metres distance the starting positions guarantee. You bounce a couple steps, staying very high against the Hungarian’s low stance, building speed and momentum to lunge upwards without giving her any clear clue of what type of attack you’re going to choose.

Your blade slides on the target before she has time to realise where you actually hit.

There’s no doubt, no hesitation.

The red light turns on in what feels like the longest time ever, the crowd erupts in cheers, and the mask falls off your head as you celebrate like never before in your entire career.

Taking the centre of the piste, you point your sabre in a really specific direction, aiming at a very specific person.

Two, actually.

You mimic a bow and the audience goes wild.

It’s for none but the two people you can’t keep your teared up eyes off.

After that, it’s all a blur.

Saluting the opposition and the referee is a natural gesture. You manage to give the younger fencer your sincere compliments and some words of advice she takes more gracefully than you could have ever done at her age.

Your maestro holds you in a big hug, he says it’s been an honour, and you will not start doubting him now.

Someone drags you for a quick interview, asking questions you have been asked your entire life. You answer sincerely, but the desire to get this over with as soon as possible is clear as the smile on your face.

“It’s a bronze medal, how do you feel about it?”

“Honestly? I think this is the most important and beautiful of them all”, you politely say your goodbyes to run in the opposite direction.

Finding Alexia has always been easy, your eyes lock in the middle of full rooms despite everything and everyone. A warm hug envelops your body when you’re close enough to fall into her open arms, feeling tiny hands holding onto you at the same time.

“We’re so proud of you, amore mio”

“Thank you, for the chance”

fine.

[jezabelle9299]

Read My Diary S.R x FEM! Reader

Overture- Spencer comes home to you sitting on the floor mid-closet cleanout reading a book he's never seen before. Also I only wrote one entry because I could not for the life of me think of another one.

C-W's- Kissing, yearning, general pining. And one use of Y/N

A/N- I wrote this on a whim to get my mind off a job interview tomorrow so if you hate it please don't tell me!

March 23- Spencer was so sweet today. He read over my shoulder, and all I could think about was how stupid happy he makes me. And yet– we aren’t together. Penelope thinks he likes me,  and I really wish I could believe her, but he doesn’t see me that way. No matter how much I want him to.

But now of course, you were together. And he was still making you stupid happy, and Penelope was right as always. So you giggled to yourself as you read through the rest of the entries. You, pining for Spencer, the excitement of your first date, until just about the first time you said ‘I love you’ and you stopped writing. Anything you wanted to say you could just tell him, you didn’t have to write it down anymore. 

“What are you reading…on the floor?” You looked up and couldn’t believe you didn’t hear the door open. You knew he was coming home, so you were just trying to bide time by cleaning out your closet. You got distracted by an old diary you hadn’t written in for months and ended up settled on the floor of your bedroom. 

Spencer was confused, both by the fact that you were on the floor, and by the fact you were surrounded by old clothes you hardly ever wore, reading a book he’d never seen before. And even more curious at what had gotten you so wrapped up you apparently didn’t hear him come in. Whenever you got that into a book, you always told him about it. Every detail of what you liked about it, and he’d listen to every word. But instead of lighting up and telling him everything, you got sheepish and replied with a sing-songy “Nothing”. He gave you a skeptical look, but left it at that. 

He set his things down to join you on the floor, reading over your shoulder like he always does. What was once an excuse to get close to you, looking at case files together, became a show of just how much he loves you. But when he kissed you on the cheek and you looked down, realizing what he was about to read, all rational thought was out the window. On instinct you threw the book through the open doorway and halfway down the hall, and because that wasn’t enough you even screamed “No!”

Spencer just shifted to look at your face from his position behind you, trying to figure out what that outburst was. “Would you like to tell me what that was about?” But instead of answering the question, you just turned around, propping yourself up and putting your knees on either side of his legs before settling into his lap. Of course, because you loved to be close to your amazing boyfriend, but also to essentially anchor him to the floor. 

“So babe–” You put your arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek to hopefully distract him. “Wanna go for a walk? Ooo! Or we could go to the movies!! You love the movies.” He laughed, but you knew you hadn’t gotten away with it. 

“I do love the movies, but I think I’d love even more if you told me why you’re so upset because of the idea of me reading that. You don’t have to tell me what it is, or let me read it of course. But what made you so upset that you had to throw it?”

It would be so much easier to lie to him if he was a worse boyfriend. But no, he had to be one of the most sweet, intelligent, caring people you knew. 

“Spencer, you know I don’t keep secrets from you. It’s not that, but–” You let out a melodramatic sigh as you buried your face in his shoulder. “If you read that you’ll think I’m so insanely, remarkably, dorky you’ll never want to go out with me again.” It was all he could do not to laugh. You were embarrassed, but you were also being completely ridiculous. The idea that anything on this Earth could make him love you less was laughable. And the idea that you would be too dorky for him? Of all people? Utterly insane. 

“Hey Y/N? Darling? Love of my life? Have you realized who you’re talking to? I love you more than anything, and the idea that you could be too dorky for me is as adorable as it is absurd.” 

“It’s an old diary… there’s– there’s yearning. For you specifically, and you’ll think I’m crazy and weird.” He laughed into your shoulder, and distracted you by kissing from your shoulder to your collarbone, before gently pulling you from his lap to set you down next to him. Then while you still had your eyes closed, he got up. He got up, and ran to go read the thing that you thought could ever make him love you any less. 

He opened up to a random page near the beginning and there it was. Everything that he thought you’d never noticed before you started dating, laid out on the page. Things he couldn’t stand about himself, you talked about with love before he’d even gotten the courage to ask you out. You thought that he didn’t like you back, and he wished he’d written down his feelings so that you could read about how he loved you before he could even think of telling you. He knew no matter how many times he told you, you’d never realize just how deeply you were ingrained in his very soul. 

And by the time he decided he was done reading, clearing half of the pages in just a few minutes, you had gotten on the bed, and buried your face –along with your shame– in the pillows. He gently rubbed your back to let you know he was done. “Hey honey? Do you want to come out of the pillows now?” And you just shook your head, not quite ready to face him yet.

“Ok, stay in there as long as you like, but for the record I would love to see your beautiful face. Now I’ve only read a bit of this, but I can say with 100% certainty that I don’t think you are weird, crazy, or dorky. I love you and I don’t love you any less because you loved me while I was too stupid and insecure to ask you out.” That finally got you to sit up and look at him. He didn’t freak out, or run, or decide that you were so totally lame that he could no longer be with you. 

“I love you too”

“Hey look at that, she’s back.” And he moved your hair behind your shoulder so that he could see your face. 

“No you tricked me with affection, you don’t get to tease me yet.” 

“You’re right. And for the record– I wish that I’d written down my feelings for you so that you could see how much I’ve always loved you.” He kissed all over your face, quick pecks to show you how much he meant what he was saying. 

“Well I’ll just have to see what secret shames are in the back of your closet, and we can call it even.” 

“Deal.”  

[yakdee]

Payu’s racing suit: A masterclass in foreplay and kink exploration

One helluva title, huh? Well listen, I’ve been cursed with a great attention to detail (the notes app is sick of me atp) and an even greater desire to share so here we are. Wanna come along for the ride?

It's race day and this is the first time we get to see Payu in his gear, hence this very important full-body shot for which audience is quite grateful (I took the liberty of speaking for all of us, but if you disagree, remember that denial is a river in Egypt 😌). Though we will come to see later on, that no one is as grateful as Rain.

One thing about Rain, he's going to brat. And as amused as Payu is, he's going to nip it right in the bud (hair tousle, my beloved 😭). That aside, we know that Payu is almost always in tune with Rain, and he can clearly see that baby boy is more than loving how he looks in his racing gear. And Rain saying that his suit is cool a second time gives Payu the confirmation he needs, and an opening for foreplay and the exploration of Rain's budding cosplay kink.

Now despite rendering Rain parched and speechless at that thought of him stripping out of his gear, leave it to Payu to take it to the next level.

Rain is visibly excited. And although he has not verbally responded, his body language is speaking volumes, even if at this point he doesn't fully get what Payu is implying.

Payu has essentially given Rain the permission to dress him within the boundaries of cosplay, and confirms this by asking Rain to help with putting on his gloves.

Now I'd like to think the purpose of Payu's request two-fold: (1) to show (just the audience atp because Rain doesn't understand what's happening yet) that he’s noticed the beginnings of Rain's kink and (2) to engage another one of Rain's senses as he continues their foreplay. So far there's been sight, sound, smell, and now Payu has added touch.

We all know that Payu probably entertained the idea of having Rain go full-contact right in the middle of the garage, but he still has a race to win so the gloves will have to do for now.

The race is over and Payu has fulfilled his promise to Rain: he has claimed victory unscathed. And now Payu is looking forward to his reward: reaping the benefits all of that glorious foreplay.

By the time they get home, Rain is damn near feral. He’s so turned on that even Payu is pleasantly surprised. And honestly can we blame Rain? We’ve established that Payu looks hot in his racing gear, but he looks even hotter winning in his racing gear. The latter is not lost on Rain and it’s showing in the way he’s kissing and touching Payu.

Ah yes, the touching … let's focus on that.

As they’re kissing, Rain’s hand glides along Payu’s side, pulling him close, and lingering for a bit to feel the fit and structure of the suit against Payu's body — the smooth feel of the elbow pad and the grain of the leather on Payu’s ass.

Side note: I find it fascinating that Payu starts mirroring Rain’s movements for a bit. I don’t know whether they’re just really locked in and hot for each other or it’s meant to be a form of subconscious reassurance for Rain (both. both is good.), but whatever it is seems to be working because Rain’s energy is at 1000%.

Baby boy is so lost in the sauce that even palms and strokes Payu through the suit (he really said "all hands on di—" I'm sorry lol), later pulling him close to feel the full weight of all of that leather on his body.

Now, we could say that this is just the way people touch each other while in the midst of a pre-sex make out session, but that is not the case here. Payu can feel the difference and remarks on it, continuing their earlier conversation at the garage.

Another side note: Imagine being so in tune and obsessed with your partner that you're able to continue conversations hours later as if the passage of time doesn’t exist. Absolute insanity.

Anyway~ naked and deep in throes of passion, it's at this point they switch gears for a bit (pun intended) with it being Rain's turn to do the talking.

From the garage up until now, Payu has a created a safe space for Rain to release his inhibitions (s/o to my girl Natasha Bedingfield 🎶) and explore this new side of himself. And while that's true, the rules established in their D/s relationship are still in place. One of them is no swearing. But Rain is feeling carefree and especially bratty, so he levels up the dirty talk, adding some profanity to spice things up.

They both know that a punishment is inevitable, but there's some nuance involved. Rain is the midst of self-discovery, so Payu opts for a less severe punishment for the swearing. He bites Rain's lips, but he does it with degree of playfulness that encourages Rain to continue. Without the swearing, of course.

Taking the hint and most importantly, staying on theme (i.e. riding Payu like a finely-tuned motorcycle … again, I'm sorry lol), Rain takes over both verbally and physically, and it is absolutely doing it for Payu.

In fact, Payu is so pleased that he offers Rain a lifetime subscription of free riding lessons. All jokes aside, the way that Payu responds (in that he mirrors Rain's word choice) shows that he is enjoying this cosplay scene just as much as Rain.

Thoroughly spent and content after crossing yet another finish line for the day, Payu reassures and encourages Rain once more. And in turn, Rain checks in with Payu confirming that everything was enjoyable for the both of them.

Communication? We love to see it.

Even while basking in the afterglow of their bisexually-lit post-coital bliss, that race suit is still on Rain's mind. Again, can we really blame him? He realizes that the cosplay aspect of it is something that he likes. And although things seemed to come naturally to him, this is still very much uncharted territory for Rain. Payu acknowledges this and provides aftercare in the form of teasing encouragement, promising to purchase a few costumes for later cosplay sessions.

Rain may not be ready to fully accept his newfound kink, but knows that he can explore it further with Payu whenever he's ready. And the open and consistent communication they've had during this time will help them build a solid foundation to do that.

If you made to this point, thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed and I'll catch you in the next one :)

Bonus: An update from the special episode

A few months have passed and as you can see our lovely couple has indeed gone on to further explore their cosplay kink.

AND they even added a few others to the mix. Good for them and may the kinks be ever in their favor.

[cameronluvr]

GUESS WHO — rafe cameron x fem!reader x barry x fem!reader

summary: after fooling around with both rafe and barry at separate times, you fall pregnant and have to figure out which of them is the father. you gain the courage to tell both of them with sarah’s help.

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, slut shaming (by rafe), kinda toxic!rafe, reader is 18 + rafe is 20 + barry is 22, crying, arguing, mentions of weed, cussing, name calling (whore, bitch, slut, all by rafe ofc), — lmk if i missed any! ≽ܫ≼ ⭒

: ̗̀➛ 𝓶𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

you’d been on and off sleeping with both rafe and barry behind each others backs for weeks now. you don’t want rafe to know about barry, and vice versa, as you were afraid of them both killing each other.

sure, there was a chance they could’ve told each other, but they weren’t that close to exchange details about their sex life. they hung out a lot, but they weren’t exactly friends.

you couldn’t pin who was better, though, they’re equally as good as each other. rafe had a slightly longer dick, but barry had thicker girth. you were literally so cock drunk that you couldn’t give up one for the other. you needed both…

… until you’re sat on the bathroom floor three weeks later, crying while clutching onto a positive pregnancy test.

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” you place your hands on your head after tossing the test across the room, gliding your fingers through your hair to calm yourself down. you stand up now, breathing loudly, quickly and heavily as you can’t help but panic.

you’re pregnant at 18 with two possible baby daddies. how are you possibly supposed to keep calm?

you have zero idea of what to do. you can’t tell barry because it might not be his, for the same reason you cannot tell rafe. fuck. what have you gotten yourself into?

after some more minutes go by of you panting, crying and overthinking, you finally manage to reduce your tears and calm yourself down enough to call sarah, one of your best friends.

“y/n! hey girl” she answered almost immediately, sounding happy to hear from you. she hadn’t seen you in about three days because you were sick, and now you know why.

“hey sar, i uh— can i see you? i kinda need someone right now…” you ask, sniffling and rubbing your tears away. “are you okay? what happened?” she asks in a concerned tone. “uh, i’ll tell you in person… it’s easier.” you gulp, feeling anxious as hell. rafe’s her brother, and you don’t exactly want to tell her you’ve been seeing her brother, as well as barry.

“yeah, that’s okay, you wanna come over?” sarah asks kindly, making you think for a second. what if rafe’s home? you sure as hell don’t want to talk to him about this, not yet anyway… you can just avoid him if he is home, you guess.

“okay, yeah, thanks… i’ll be there soon” you smile, wiping the rest of your tears away as you hang up the phone. you’re glad to have a friend like sarah, she’s always there for you no matter what… you leave your house and begin making your way to tannyhill, arriving around 15 minutes later.

you walk up to the house and knock on the front door, hearing fast footsteps banging down the stairs from inside. sarah opens the door, smiling at you before pulling you into a hug. neither of you let go of the hug, and stood there for a good minute before pulling away. “come upstairs, come on” she holds your hand, walking to the stairs with you.

you both walk upstairs and into sarah’s bedroom, where she closes the door for some privacy. “sit down” she tells you, walking over to her bed and both sitting down next to each other. “what’s going on?” she asks, sitting close to you and brushing your hair out of your face with her fingers before resting her hand on your shoulder, rubbing it to comfort you.

“uh… fuck, it’s quite a lot.” you sniffle, looking down to anxiously fiddle with your hands. “it’s okay, you can tell me anything” she reassures you, seeing you nod. “well, uh… i don’t even know how to say this, but… fuck. i’m pregnant.” you blurt out, seeing her entire face drop. “y—what?!” she widens her eyes, her hand on your shoulder now feeling like a frozen grip.

“…yeah” you nod, gaining the courage to look her in the eyes, which only made you tear up again for some reason. “oh my god— what! with who?!” she asks with utter shock and confusion, and slight excitement.

“uh,” you hesitate. “that’s kinda the thing…” your eyes wander away from hers, wanting to avoid answering but you know you have to say now. “it’s not like, jj, is it?” she asks, snickering to make a joke out of the situation, which seemed to make you laugh.

“no, no, it’s way worse” you reply with a laugh, making her truly wonder who. “pope?” she asks, seeing you shake your head. “… rafe.” you say, too afraid to admit the other possible father right now.

her face dropped more than it did last time. the room falls silent for a second as she takes a while to gather her words. “r—rafe?!” she asks, less excited and more afraid now. “yes, but—” you try to say, but she cuts you off.

“you’ve been sleeping with rafe?! my brother? why?” she asks, feeling sorry for you for even going close to him, given how crazy and mean he is. “i don’t know—”

“but, why rafe? he’s a fucking psycho. he’s my brother, i know him more than anyone. you do not want to have a baby with him y/n—” she tries to advise you, but you haven’t told her the rest yet.

“sar.” you cut her off, “what?”

“it might not be rafe’s, is what i’m trying to say…” you tell her, seeing all sorts of different emotions portrayed on her face. “what the hell do you mean by that?!” she asks, raising her voice but not loud enough for any of her relatives to hear. “i’ve been seeing rafe, yeah, but i’ve been seeing someone else too, but i don’t know who’s worse” you tell her.

“who can possibly be worse than rafe?” sarah asks, not thinking for a second that there’s anyone out there as demented as her brother. “uh, barry… that drug dealer g—”

“barry?!?! y/n!” sarah stands up from her bed now in pure disbelief. “i know, sar,” you sigh, feeling stupid for being with either of them. “so you’re telling me you’re pregnant and you don’t know who the dad is, and it could be rafe or barry?” she asks, repeating the story to you to make sure she got it straight. you nod, seeing her pace around her room in shock.

“y/n!!! you know for a second i thought jj would’ve been a shock, but those two?!” sarah says, thinking about how close you and jj were at one stage. the only reason you never dated him before was because of the whole ‘no pogue on pogue macking’ rule.

“sar, trust me, i know it looks fucking bad, but i do not know what to do…” you tell her. she sighs, trying to come up with a way to help you. “well, first off, do you want to keep it or no?” she asks, sitting back down next to you on the bed.

“… no, fuck, i don’t know. i don’t want either of their babies, but i don’t know if i can have an abortion… what will my parents think?” you overthink, terrifying yourself even more. “fuck what they think. what do you want?” she asks. you hadn’t thought about it too much before, you didn’t know if you wanted kids or not, you weren’t expecting it so soon…

“i don’t know what i want…” you say, your eyes filling up with tears once again. “do you know how far along you are?” she asks, trying to get as much information as possible to help you. “no…” you shake your head, wiping the tears falling from your eyes.

“don’t cry, come here” she comforts you, pulling you into a tight hug and stroking your hair. you can’t help but cry as you nuzzle your face into her shoulder, trying hard to not break down. “i’m here for you, okay?” she says, feeling you nod against her. “we can book a doctors appointment together, yeah? i’ll help you with whatever you need” she reassures, being the best friend.

“thank you…” you sniffle, lifting your head up to wipe your eyes. all of a sudden, the bedroom door opens, making you both dart your eyes towards it. “what’re you doin’ here?” rafe asks, peeking his head into the room. “get out, rafe” sarah strictly tells him, making him frown. “why you cryin’?” he looks at you, ignoring his little sister.

“rafe, leave her alone!” sarah raises her voice now, picking up a pillow and throwing it at him. “chill out, dude, she’s my friend too” rafe argues back with his sister as he fully enters the room. “i don’t care, get out of my room” sarah is adamant on getting him out, standing up from the bed to try to force him out.

“what’s wrong with you?” rafe asks, pushing her away as she tries to push him out of the open door. “no, what’s wrong with you!” sarah argues, the two of them bickering back and forth until you were fed up. “stop it, guys” you stand up from the bed, attempting to separate them from each other.

they stopped once you told them to stop, which made sarah give her brother a weird look. he’s never listened to anyone that fast before, he really is into you. “rafe, just come in” you say, needing to tell him sooner or later. you pull him by his arm away from the door so you could shut it fully, now standing face to face with him. “what’s wrong?” he asks, seeing how upset you are.

“it’s a long story rafe…” you sigh, not knowing how he’ll react to the baby news, but certainly knowing how how he will to barry. “i’m all ears.” he tells you. “why are you acting like that?” sarah frowns at her brother, wondering why he’s being so soft. “shut up, let her talk” rafe shushes his sister without looking at her, his eyes are on you. sarah had seriously never seen him like this before.

“rafe… i’m pregnant.” you sigh, not wanting to explain all over again knowing he’ll have a completely different reaction to sarah. his eyebrows raise, and mouth drops. “really?” he asks, not seeming entirely happy. obviously he’s going to automatically assume it’s his, considering how many times you’ve fucked over the past month.

“yeah, but…” you say, hesitating again. “but what?” he asks, his tone more serious now. “uh…” you literally don’t know what to say. sarah sees you struggling, and sighs. “it might not be yours, rafe” sarah says, telling him so you don’t have to. the room falls silent for a second as you both watch his face completely change to angry.

“what?” he frowns his brows with squinted eyes, looking at you as if you were crazy. “…you’re not my boyfriend, rafe. i do, y’know, see other people” you tell him, seeing him shake his head. “i don’t care, what the fuck? i’ been fuckin’ you, for you to fuck other guys?” his voice raises now. “rafe—” sarah tries to say, but he cuts her off with a ‘shh’.

“it’s not ‘other guys’, it’s one other guy. besides, i’m not your girlfriend so what i do is none of your business.” you defend yourself, pointing a finger at him. “none of my business?!” he yells, raising his eyebrows in disbelief. “you being a fucking slut is none of my business?” he asks, infuriated.

“rafe!” sarah gasps.

“yeah, i’m definitely a slut.” you scoff a laugh, shaking your head at his idiocy. you aren’t together, he hasn’t asked you out, so what makes him think you belong to him only?

“yeah, you are. if i knew you were a whore i wouldn’t’ve fucked your sorry ass in the first place,” rafe belittles you, always believing he was above you because you’re a pogue. “she’s not a whore, don’t be such a dick!” sarah argues with her brother, not liking the way he’s speaking to you.

“shut up, sar, that’s why you two are best friends. just two little slutty bitches together” he scoffs, shaking his head as he laughs at you both. “oh, and you’re not?!” sarah laughs back at him. “yeah, you’ve literally slept with half the girls on the island, and we’re the sluts?” you add.

“right,” rafe scoffs, finding your words amusing. “who’s the other guy?” he asks, changing the topic, looking at you with an intimidating expression. “…it doesn’t matter.” you gulp, side eyeing sarah for a quick second.

“what the fuck was that for?” rafe caught onto the way you looked at sarah, which made him immediately suspicious. “nothing—”

“what’re you hiding from me, y/n?” he asks, taking a step closer which made you gulp, looking up at him as he towers over your vulnerable self. “i’m not hiding nothing!—”

“then tell me who the hell you fucked.” he demands, his lip quivering in rage. “… barry. there, ya’ happy?” you spill out since he wanted to know so bad. he falls silent for a moment before laughing at you. “barry? drug dealer barry? are you fuckin’ serious?” he went from angry to enraged, yelling at you now.

you don’t answer, you only look up at him with tears in your eyes, which tells him that you are being serious. “you— what the fuck? you been goin’ behind my back and fuckin’ barry?” he yells, making you flinch. “rafe, barry doesn’t know either—” sarah tries to help, seeing him turn to look at her for a second before looking back at you. “you really are a fuckin’ whore, you know that?” he laughs angrily, trying to maintain his sanity. “tell him. go fuckin’ tell him, cause either way you’re gonna abort that thing.” he yells, looking you up and down in disgust. “am i?!” you ask at his audacity. it’s your decision, not his nor barry’s.

“yeah, you fuckin’ are. cause even if it is mine, i don’t want nothin’ to do with it.” he cruelly tells you, his face just inches away from yours. your lips quiver as you can’t help but cry now. his mean words seriously hurt your feelings.

“good luck with barry” he sarcastically scoffs a laugh before turning around and completely walking out of the room, slamming the door shut after him. his angry footsteps lead to his own room, where you hear the door slam shut from down the hallway.

“y/n…” sarah says, quickly pulling you into a hug. you hug her back and sob for a minute, before pulling away to wipe your eyes. “fuck” you whisper to yourself, thinking about what to do now.

“i’m gonna go to barry’s.” you say, grabbing your phone from sarah’s bed and putting it in your pocket. “are you sure? do you want me to come with you?” she asks. “no, it’s okay. i don’t think he’s gotten over the time you supposedly robbed him” you roll your eyes, talking about the pogues. “true” she shrugs it off, seeing your point, he probably wouldn’t react well to seeing her.

— after leaving sarah’s, you head over to barry’s trailer, where you see him sitting out on his porch, smoking a joint. you walk up to him and grab his attention, making him look at you. “hey, pretty girl” he grins once he saw you, removing the joint from his lips. barry’s nickname for you was pretty girl. he always called you it, no matter how you looked.

you smile with a blush, seeing him pat the empty space next to him, motioning for you to come sit. “y’alright? what you here for?” he asks, setting his joint aside on the table in front of him once you sit down. “uh, i need to talk to you actually…” you say, giving him a serious look. “what’ you need to talk about?” he looks into your eyes, giving you his full attention.

“please don’t freak out when i tell you this but,” you sigh. “don’t freak out? what is it?” he asks, frowning at you, kinda freaking out now since you told him not to… “long story short. i’m pregnant,”

“oh shit,”

“but, but… i’ve been seeing someone else too, so i don’t know if it’s yours or not…” you decide to just straight up tell him instead of leading it on.

“damn, who else you been fuckin’?” he asks with an amusing grin on his face, not knowing what to think. he doesn’t know you too well, he’s just your weed dealer, and he isn’t obsessed with you like rafe is. “…rafe.” you awkwardly tell him, knowing he’ll laugh, and of course, he laughed. “country club?”

“damn, girl, you just foolin’ around huh?” he asks with an amused grin. “i guess” you shrug. “so yo’ baby daddy is either me or rafe cameron?” he asks, seeing you nod. “damn.” he says again, running his hand through his hair. his reaction was way less meaner and angrier than rafe’s was, which you were entirely thankful for.

“i know, i’m sorry… i told rafe like 20 minutes ago and he flipped the fuck out. telling me to abort it, calling me a whore and shit,” you sigh. “he can be one sensitive son of a bitch, bruh.” he shakes his head. “what are you gonna do, tho’?” he’s curious to know. “i have no idea. i mean, i don’t want a kid right now, especially not rafe’s,” you say, giving him a crazy look.

“and i mean, you’re a drug dealer… my parents won’t particularly be too happy about that.” you say, seeing him nod in understanding. “well, whatever you decide to do, i’ll be here for you, k?” he looks at you, gently placing his hand on your leg for comfort.

“… thank you, barry, that means a lot” you smile at him, letting him know how grateful you are to have someone other than sarah be here for you right now, given that rafe probably doesn’t want to speak to you ever again.

“no problem, pretty girl, y’want somethin’ to eat?” he asks before standing up and walking to the trailer door, opening it and turning to look at you for your response. “what you got?” you giggle, seeing him motion for you to follow him. you stand up and join him, walking to his kitchen together.

at least one of the possible dads is trying.

a kinda long one for u guys to make up for being gone for a couple of days!! ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ i love this one. rafe is always a little bitch 😩 i hope you guys enjoy + thank you for all the support on my previous fics! you’re all the best ㅤㅤᵕ̈ // not proofread. if you spot any mistakes please feel free to correct me 🎀

@cameronluvr