#I have so many tags to do messages to respond and things to do in my house and subjects to study and exercises to do I'm going to die

[hoxooster]

@littlebigadventure2 Actually, I never considered making a callout post. When DesBea was in the group, I wasn’t aware of her bullying other users (besides Red) or stalking anyone until well after she left lilspacewolfie’s Discord server. Beyond having to deal with her shoving her torture fics in everyone’s faces, and her going out of her way to push other people down, I had no thought towards making a post on her behavior. To be quite honest with you, I thought that she was just an adult who was being childish to gain attention, and that she only had beef with lilspacewolfie. Red wasn’t interested in making a callout post, because the bullying seemed like a minor issue, and I thought the same.

Then the callout post came out after I left the Red’s Ramblers Discord server.

Suddenly, behavior that I had reread in her messages back when I deleted them (in February of this year) from lilspacewolfie’s server, and that I was reminded about in conversations with others who experienced the same things whenever they interacted with her, made me realize the full scope of the worrying nature of her actions.

Because, I vividly remember how she went out of her way to pester Red. How she followed lilspacewolfie around in our stealth Payday 2 games without saying anything—in either voice or the text box—and would spam voice lines while standing directly behind her to make her scream in fear. And, how she also refused to stop when asked. No matter how many times the entreaties were repeated to her, or who was doing the asking—even if it was multiple people.

I remember how, in another time of us telling her to knock off her shitty behavior, she proclaimed in the Discord text chat—on a channel that was specifically designed for NSFW talk (mainly as a place to discuss fanfic ideas and bounce them off of the rest of the group)—that ‘anyone who writes NSFW in their fics are terrible people, and they’re disgusting.’ Red and I were taken aback by it for a while, then she asked for my help with addressing the issue, so I advised her to respond in a way that would basically tell DesBea, "Writing allows you to create whatever you want. People don't need permission to write about NSFW, or anything else for that matter, just because YOU don't like it. Just don't interact with it if it's so disgusting to you." DesBea tried to play it off with, "Well, I'm ace, so I don't understand it. Why do people do it? It's so weird. And I like reading anything and everything that has NaviMind in it." Red responded on her own with something along the lines of, "Yeah, but if you don't like to read NSFW, then just don't do it??? AO3 has tags on it so you can avoid things you don't like. Again, it's not hard." And this wasn’t the only time she used her, ‘I’m ace, but maybe not aro’ excuse to try to win or deflect her way out of arguments, but it was one of the more memorable ones. For all the wrong reasons.

I also remember how she would try to talk over other people in text conversations and make everything about her fics and ‘Bain is an alien’ and ‘the Payday gang are a hive mind’ and ‘imagine the guys feeling every bit of torture Bain went through with the Dentist’ and ‘this person’s writing sucks because it doesn’t include my head canons’ and so on.

But, as far as we knew at the time, this all only happened in the Red’s Ramblers Discord—and to people who seemed like they didn't really care too much about it. So, after she left, Red and I treated the whole situation as ‘DesBea was throwing a child’s temper tantrum, because she wasn’t getting the attention she wanted. Now she's out of here permanently. Good riddance.’

Then time passed, shit happened, and as I was leaving the server, I was deleting everything from people who had already left. I read back through her stuff and thought, “Yeesh, am I glad that she didn’t stick around.” Then I thought nothing else of it.

So, now we get back to the original callout post.

I wasn’t shocked about the content of anything that she wrote, but I was surprised by the targeted severity of it. And also the fact that she, as a ‘responsible’ adult, was knowingly being inappropriate with her messages that she was sending to a minor in that server.

Now, my mother is a middle school teacher, and I have helped her for 20 years with her work—this includes taking those ‘signs of abuse in children’, ‘bullying in the workplace’, and the ‘know that you’re expected to report bad actors on threat of legal action against you if you don’t’ tests for her, then giving her the rundown after (she’s bad with newer computers and programs). So, because of those, I know that you are, legally, NEVER ALLOWED to say what someone else does and does not consider as harassment towards themselves. I don't care if anyone tries to the pull the, 'yeah, it's only illegal where YOU are,' argument--it's a law that was put into place here because it's based on what should be common fuckin' courtesy, respect, and compassion afforded to and shared with victims in the aftermath of their trauma. If you want to consider the few messages you saw of hers as ‘gripes and misunderstandings’, then fine. If you want to interact with her, then knock yourself out. But, don’t, for one second, think that you can come in here and ‘weigh in’ on everything that has been said--which was at great personal embarrassment for some, and far too horrifying for others to even say anything beyond hinting at what transpired because of the trauma involved—and call any of it ‘not a big deal’.

In fact, since you didn’t reblog from the version of this post that has some concerning information on it, I’m going to assume that you didn’t see it, so here’s a photo of it:

On the original callout post, there's a reblog that's also from dracoleopardo that gives a bit more context on DesBea messaging at least one minor with inappropriate content. Which was followed up by lesbian-ferret mentioning that she had heard about accusations concerning DesBea going out of her way to pester the VAs—maybe with her torture fics or who-even-knows-what-else—which could have its own potential legal ramifications for DesBea, if they're true and the VAs decide to file anything against her.

So, there are people here—and possibly even persons who do/have work(ed) for Starbreeze—who have actively been hurt by her actions, some even to the point of attempting to do something irreversible to themselves. Is that what you would class as a ‘gripe’ or a ‘simple misunderstanding’?

Are muffy-official’s feelings about the whole DesBea situation that she experienced in their server not valid, because you, an admitted outsider to this issue, think that it’s ‘not a big deal’?

Is the original callout post ‘uncalled for’, because you don’t think that this was ‘worth talking about in an open forum’?

Is it ‘fearmongering’ to want to warn people—especially those that have been hurt by DesBea—about her multiple accounts that she has been known to use to block evade people who’ve blocked her on only one or a few of those accounts?

You asked me if I ‘thought of the consequences of my actions’ when I first made this addendum post.

I did.

I thought about the consequences of her messaging new people to our fandom to try and ingratiate herself upon them—which she did after an hour or so of the original callout post already being posted and it being spread around in reblogs by other people in the Payday fandom.

I thought about the consequences of her bullying more people in our fandom, especially those who are in terrible mental states or personal situations.

I thought about the consequences of her messaging any of the minors that are hanging out here in our corner of the fandom, and what any of those messages might contain.

I thought about the consequences of her continuing to stalk people in our fandom under her myriad of usernames, and none of them any the wiser about it or able to protect themselves.

I thought about the consequences of anyone in our fandom not being presented with all of this information, and thus being unable to react in an informed way if she tried to message or @ them or comment on their posts in the future.

And I also thought about the consequences her actions would have on her life on the internet, if she kept being allowed to behave and conduct herself around here in the ways that she has been.

But, we have to give her a pass, right? Because she’s ‘mentally unwell’—despite the fact that she continually refuses professional help. Or, because ‘she’s being childish for attention’—despite the fact that she’s an adult and she does know better. Or because it was ‘all just a misunderstanding’—despite the fact that she was bullying people almost to the point of harming themselves, and was knowingly being inappropriate in her messages to at least one minor.

I thought about the consequences a lot. I thought about how her actions and my own addendum post to the original callout post could effect and affect everyone in the Payday fandom. And, yes, I even thought about it in regards to Tumblr’s ToS.

So, while, yes, my post is targeted in the sense that it’s focused on DesBea and the accounts of hers that I’m aware of, it is not considered harassment under Tumblr’s definition in their ToS. This is because I’m actively calling for people to make their own decisions on whether or not they wish to block her, and I’m reminding them to not harass her. Multiple times. If you want to consider all of our efforts to try and warn people, while still reminding people to leave DesBea alone—despite how emotional our replies might have gotten and how many swear words have been thrown around--as harassment, then fine. Block me. Block all of us. Block everyone of us who created the posts, and every last person who reblogged it to signal boost it, so more people in our corner of the internet could see it.

I refuse to see any part of this as a 'non-issue' or as 'fearmongering'. DesBea has hurt multiple people in the Payday fandom in multiple ways in multiple places under multiple names. There are quite a few screenshots that have been provided as evidence to her behavior, and anecdotes from people in our fandom who've never interacted with each other before—all of whom are saying the same things about how she acted around them. If that's not what you consider as a 'good enough cause to make a callout post', then I don't know what to tell ya, hoss.

Do as you will.

On the DesBea situation:

I would've added my thoughts to the original post, but as I am not a part of their Discord server, I didn't think that that was any bit appropriate. However, I wanted to share some of my own personal experiences with her, so that y'all can see that her behavior in their server is a continuing pattern--I don't have pictures of what she said as proof, sadly, but I will explain why.

I'm also gonna slap this under a Read More. I apologize for its length, but the original callout post should be enough of an explanation as to why this post needs to be as long as it is.

And, as a quick aside, if any of you wish to completely block DesBea, NOT HARASS HER OR FEED INTO HER BEHAVIOR IN ANY WAY, be aware that her usernames are:

commence-screaming

des-paa-cee-toeee

pd3thoughts

If any of you know of any more, please tell me, and I will update this post. I don't want to be around her anymore than most people who've also interacted with her do.

About 2 years ago, I was invited to lilspacewolfie's server, Red's Ramblers, and I very quickly became a moderator there. Over time some people joined and a few left, but Ramblers remained stable through it all. DesBea joined later on into the server's lifespan, was around for awhile, said some nasty things, was given a warning (in the general), and just left without saying anything one day. After reading the screenshots in the callout post, I'm actually quite surprised by how much of a fit she threw in her efforts to make you guys apologize to her. Much like in the original post, with her gone from the server, things improved for everyone else, but the whole ordeal was rather confusing for all of us, in the aftermath.

See, DesBea was trying to be just as harmful in Ramblers, but it never really went anywhere.

Her hateful and self-pitying tendencies were the same around us as it was in their server. She really loved to talk shit about Yadoking and her writing--she would do this both in passing on random posts in the server, and while some of us were in-call when we'd play Payday 2 together as a group. It never smacked of genuine criticism for Yado's writing ability or style, as she only ever used childish language when doing it, and she would always do it right before she would try to push her own ideas and fics onto any of us who were online at the time. She was even trying to bully lilspacewolfie--which I will go more into later--over the tiniest of things. DesBea, in all of her posts, was either pushing someone else down, trying to make us all read about her rather disturbing fic ideas or headcanons, or trying to make herself look like the victim by claiming that she 'had bad experiences with abuse in the past' and that her 'PTSD was triggered over something someone in Ramblers had said' when we were trying to halt her bullshit.

It was all very aggravating to deal with, to say the least, but it also didn't have very much staying power, since most of us were just ignoring her in the server. And I do mean that, as most of the users in the Ramblers Discord server refused to interact with her posts over time, and people usually ignored her whenever she tried to insert herself into their conversations. It's probably why she left without much of a fight when lilspacewolfie posted "If you're being an asshole in this server, you better stop that shit right now" in the general chat. (That's not what she said, but y'all get the jist.)

Now, as for her bullying behavior in the server, I can't say for certain if she was targeting anyone besides lilspacewolfie (and badmouthing Yado from time to time, who wasn't even in the server), as I'm not a very outgoing or talkative individual. Despite the length of this post, I'm naturally quite taciturn, and even though I was a moderator in Ramblers, nobody in the server ever messaged me about any issues that they were having with anyone. But, I can say with accuracy that DesBea would go out of her way to harass lilspacewolfie--the creator and owner of the Red's Ramblers Discord server. Whenever she would join calls while we were playing together (but she was just watching from the server), she would only ever type in the voice chat channel, where she would wax poetic about her own fics and get rather offended that 'lilspacewolfie was intentionally ignoring her'. If we were playing a game of Payday 2 with her, DesBea would intentionally follow lilspacewolfie around as a character that she didn't particularly care for and spam callouts to scare and irritate her. And, when another user in the server was having an issue that caused them a lot of distress and made them go quiet for awhile (which had nothing to do with anyone or anything in Ramblers, when they were asked about it), DesBea tried to blame lilspacewolfie for it based on a lighthearted joke that she had made that dogged on Houston. So, not only was she trying to harass lilspacewolfie, but she was actively trying to turn others in the server against the owner of the Discord, as if she could muscle her out by making her out to be a villain.

Over a joke about a FICTIONAL character.

Because she started insinuating that lilspacewolfie had caused another user to 'go into a depressive spiral, and chased them away from the server with her insensitive comments about Houston', I got involved to shut that shit down. DesBea was always weirdly attached to me, because she had DM'd me a few times on Tumblr in the past. I can only guess that she thought that these few smatterings of messages made me her friend, and since, apparently, some people here think of me as being "Mr. John Payday", she figured that she could use me as an intimidating wall to hide behind whenever she was called out on her bullshit.

She was wrong.

After a while of still trying to get others in the server to hate lilspacewolfie for 'being mean to one of the other users in the server'--who ended up coming back once their mental health had improved, by the way--she finally left after the "Stop being a dick" post, and it took us a couple days to notice. So, all-in-all, it was a very weird and irritating experience, but, in this context, it shows a worrying trend of behavior that she ended up spreading to other servers.

Now, like I kind of glossed over earlier, I WAS a moderator in Red's Ramblers. (I ended up leaving the server last month due to personal reasons that're not germane to this situation, and I have no desire to talk about it on this forum.) As I was still a mod before I left, I took the time to delete every post and reaction made by people who were no longer in the server--this amounted to 7 people, DesBea included. So, all of her posts that I could've screencapped as evidence are gone, and even if they were still there, I wouldn't have access to them anymore, anyway. In fact, the only thing that I have left is this picture I took of my response to her whole "You're a bad person for hating Houston" spiel that she was going on and on about:

(I censored this to give some privacy to the person who DesBea tried to use as a cudgel to smack lilspacewolfie with blame for their condition at the time. Even though most people here probably won't recognize them from their in-server nickname, I didn't want to take any chances.)

But, anyway, as you have read from the callout post and these personal anecdotes that I have provided, her behavior in their server was an unsurprising, but also a very worrying trend that has effected at least 2 Discord servers and a good chunk of some of the people who were or still are in the Payday fandom.

If anything that y'all have read over these posts has angered any of y'all to the point of harassing her, PLEASE DON'T. Don't send her hate--anonymously or not. Don't engage with her. Just block her and make sure that others in the fandom are aware of her behavior, so they can avoid her if they wish to as well.

And, again, please tell me if she's operating under any usernames other than the ones I've listed. I was tired of her bullshit a long time ago, and I have no desire to entertain her further under yet another pseudonym.

[butterflysonnets]

yes i'm rooting for m*leven breakup because byler is neat but mostly? i'm rooting for m*leven breakup for the sake of el and mike.

to me, their romance was always a puppy love born out of a combination of social pressures, naïve curiosity, and a lack of true understanding regarding intimacy and romantic love and what it really is. it was real in that they do truly, deeply care about each other and they are close friends, maybe even shared an attraction, but a maturing romance is so much more than that. they've grown up and out of being boyfriend/girlfriend, and that's okay! i think television/film needs to show more often that most of us don't have definite "soulmates" or first childhood loves that we spend our whole lives with. it doesn't mean these relationships meant nothing and didn't impact us, it just means they've run their course and that something else is in the cards, and this is part of life!

i've always felt el was at her best and most confident self when broken up with mike, discovering who she was and what she liked alongside another girl her age instead of just relying on mike for mentorship on how to live in the real world. she deserves more of an opportunity to find herself, her autonomy, and her independence, and to love who she is, and she's made it clear she's felt insecure in the relationship with mike because she isn't being loved and understood the way she wants, needs, and deserves from someone who is her partner.

also, it's okay if mike doesn't love her in "the way he should". he is not obligated to love her romantically and stay in a relationship with her just because she's a girl, because she "needed someone", or because he cares about her a lot. he shouldn't be pressured into a romance if it's not truly coming from his heart. he deserves freedom to find out and honour who he is, too, instead of just staying in his non-functional first relationship — one he got into as a child, essentially — and defining himself that way because it's what's expected when a boy and a girl are close. he loves her in some way, yes, but it's okay if he doesn't feel comfortable or secure being her boyfriend anymore, for whatever reason that is. he's felt insecure too, and that's valid and it matters.

they are their own people and are steadily growing and changing every day. they need time to figure out who those people are, and it's become clear (at least in my opinion) that those people aren't meant to be a couple at this stage.

they deserve freedom. they deserve to grow up and be authentic to themselves and not feel like they need to lie for the sake of a relationship. they deserve to move on from this version of their relationship that isn't making them happy and rekindle the best part of their bond: their strong, beautiful friendship. they don't have to be a couple if it doesn't make them stronger and better and happier people.

i think it would be healthy and wonderful for a show, especially one consumed frequently by young adults, to show a relationship starting, progressing, and ending on good terms in this way. sometimes things don't work out, and that is okay.

[cawziiku]

I'm not gonna be responding to these anymore, I don't want to have to think about this rn, but I'm keeping the posts up

[julesnichols]

Attempting to queue a text to send when it is not 1:30 AM versus my messaging app being a fucking dick and just sending it <<<<<

[ash-muses]

(OOC - Update #16)

Just in advance, my replies are coming out slower right now as I've had a really rough week. Please know that I'm not ignoring anyone, I'm just having a hard time right now and I'm sending out replies (DMs & RPs) when I can. ♡

Hi, everyone - I'm back! Thank you so much for your continued patience and support ♡

I'm really glad that I have so many people that enjoy writing with me and my version of Loki (and, hopefully going forward, my other muses as well!). I hope that you're all doing well; I've been trying to get back to the messages I had just before I went on hiatus, so if I missed anyone, I'm really sorry about that. >w<

I'm checking on the threads I have going, so please feel free to let me know if you're no longer interested in our thread or want to start new ones. I'll be going through my thread tracker again soon and posting that back up; the only reason it was taken down was so that I could redo my blog, which means I also have to change the thread links and such for the thread tracker. Hopefully, that will be added again soon and I'll make another update when I've rearranged some other things.

Below is a to-do list and changes that were already made (in case anyone is interested).

To-Do List, Daily:

* = main priority

* Respond to Tumblr messages (in progress; slow due to getting RP replies out & personal life at the moment)

To-Do List, General:

* Set up reminders for replies (in progress; looking for a good system that works for me)

* Redo tag directory, including new tags & hopefully reducing some of the tags I use (not started)

* Add muse info to Carrd (in progress, but slow; already completed Loki & my OC Adrian, and Tony Stark needs a few more adjustments before he's added; the goal is to add at least one muse for each fandom, that way I have a playable character in each one until I can finish all of their files)

Add FAQ to Carrd (not started; hopefully easy to do)

Create graphics for muses, including icon borders for replies, starter calls, etc. (in progress, but slow)

Create separate header promo (not started)

Work on GIFs project (in progress, but slow; need to rework some of the GIFs I posted using my previous watermark)

Already Done:

Checked in on old threads with partners

New promo has been added to my pinned posted

New reply icon borders for Loki & Adrian (OC)

Pinned post has been revamped (new information, cut and re-organized info, etc.)

Navigation has been fixed (links were still set for my previous blog name)

Carrd was designed & published

Pulled old threads from Drafts to get replies out

Scheduled out several responses to starters/asks || update was posted after they were already published

[gremlingottoosilly]

I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 

— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 

— Ah…your father is at home? 

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 

— You didn’t tell him about me? 

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh. 

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 

— Ja. You can have it. 

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 

— What do you mean by this, sir? 

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 

König is. 

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 

You look like a good candidate. 

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 

— I don’t want to break his heart. 

— He doesn’t have one. 

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 

— I’ll tell him. 

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 

— I need to return to my dorm. 

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 

[pearl-kite]

Sitting here watching the halfway point for my six-month final term of my master's degree approaching like

I'm gonna do it again aren't I. I'm gonna just watch the deadline get closer and closer until it's too late

And then I just keep playing I Love Hue on my phone with old b-rate horror movies on in the background

[sweets3rial]

the tutor in dorm 24B (II)

part I here

meantutor!re2!leon x fem!reader

summary: friends. sure, friends. only if it was that easy. he was only supposed to be a tutor. but you went too far and you fell for his charming blue eyes and dirty blonde hair. he put you in a trance and now you're struggling to escape from it.

tags: college!au, ooc leon, leon is an asshole, leon & reader have attitudes, tension, miscommunication, arguments (?), dom!leon, slightly possessive leon, degrading kink, praise kink, multiple orgasms, creampie, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (use safety guys!), vaginal fingering, masturbation, cuddles, etc.

word count: 9.3k

he didn’t understand. he couldn’t understand. were you avoiding him?

your text messages were short to each other, he tried reaching out; asking about your day, asking if you wanted to hang out, and for some reason, you were always busy. you had plans with friends, you had to work, you had to study, you had to go out of town.

he couldn’t help but question who was taking up all of your time? who were you going out with? what class were you studying for?

this led to him not seeing you for weeks. you didn’t read his texts until late at night or you didn’t respond at all. he rarely sees you in class and when you do come to class, you shoot him a smile and walk back to the same seat you’ve sat at all semester.

it was tense between you two he could feel it. though he thought you two were something. as ridiculous as it sounds, he thought you two had something. a connection, a bond, but he probably was wrong. you only needed him for one thing, to get your grade up and now that you achieved that. he figured that tutoring wouldn’t happen anymore.

especially after what happened. he could still feel your skin against his, the sensation and the burn. he could still hear the sweet noises you made, the whines of his name, and the sting of your nails dragging down the skin of his back. he could still smell you on his sheets and as he turned over in his sleep at night, he could feel your ghost laying beside him.

as much as you drove him crazy, he still found himself missing your presence, surprisingly. you made him smile, even if he tried so hard to hide it. you matched him, you could read him so easily. he was going insane. he needed to see you. even if it was just for a second, he needed to feel your presence, he needed to look into your eyes … he needed to touch you.

maybe you two could become friends. 

he thinks he’d be okay with that. as long as it meant he could have you.

of course that isn’t okay, you couldn’t be friends. god, he’s seen more of you than most of your friends have in all the years they’ve known you. you don’t have sex with your friends. you don’t daydream about their lips on your bare skin. you don’t writhe and whine at the memories of them touching you. friends don’t kiss and make love. 

so no, you couldn’t be friends with Leon. you couldn’t be anything with him. it might be cold, but you couldn’t let yourself get attached. so yes, you’re avoiding him. you sent an email to your professor lying about having to take up multiple jobs, you picked up more shifts at work so that way you wouldn’t run into him around campus, and the days you don’t work you’re volunteering. 

and when you weren’t volunteering you were walking around downtown, daydreaming like a girl in love. daydreaming about his smile and his laugh, his long blonde strands and the mark his glasses left on his nose bridge, the color of his eyes, his broad frame, and how he felt on top of you. 

how his kisses felt — warm lush lips leaving wet trails down your stomach and at your inner thigh. his gasps of pleasure, so close to your ear, and the way he held you. you groaned to yourself, slapping your book down and bringing your face into your hands. 

maybe, it was more than one night. it could be the many nights and days all put together in one. all the tension, all the longing gazes, and taunting and teasing. maybe it was more. 

you tried. you tried to push down the burn in your stomach when you saw him, you tried to ignore the way your heart would skip a beat and your eyes would search every room for him. you tried but you never won.

“you’re distracted again,”

“huh? oh shit,” you looked down to see you had put way too much fudge into this little girl’s mocha frappuccino, an entire layer of fudge sat at the bottom while the sides were completely coated. you threw the cup into the trash, knowing you’d have to start all over again.

“if you don’t mind me asking,” your coworker spoke up from beside you. he inched closer, keeping his voice low since customers were standing around, “are you okay?” he placed a hand on your shoulder and slightly pulled you to turn towards him.

he could see the weight on your shoulders, how you dragged yourself around, and how you were always in your own world. sometimes, you wouldn’t even acknowledge him walking into the room. you were either drowning everyone out or deafening yourself by blasting music into your ears.

you weren’t as bubbly with customers and you were quiet. you were always quiet but this is a different type of silence. it was saddening and concerning. you were quiet in a way you kept to yourself and you kept yourself professional, but right now you were quiet in a way anyone could look at you and see right through you.

“i’m fine, Jet,” you sighed, rolling your shoulders — not noticing how sore they were. “i’m just tired,”

“i’ve heard that excuse a million times now,” you stayed silent, grabbing another cup and picking back up the fudge. Jet has been your coworker for a few months now, he was hired around the time you met Leon.

you had only worked with him a few times before taking up extra shifts, now you’re always with him. you’ve gotten to know each other in that time, he’s kind and a gentle giant. dark hair, eyebrow piercing, broad shoulders, and a deep voice. he smelt nice too.

“how about this? you go home and i’ll cover for you,” he placed both of his hands on your shoulder now, turning you towards him while shaking you a little to wake you up.

“no, i should really stay-“

“you’re scaring customers away,” he cut you off.

“wow, thanks,”

a smile grew on his lips and you were practically blinded by his perfect teeth. Jet was a charming man, customers loved him and he attracted more and more people. you believe people solely came in just to watch him work his barista magic.

“i mean it, go and get some rest,”

you nodded your head slowly, for some reason him saying those words made you sleepy. you let your head fall with a small groan.

“i owe you,”

he gave your shoulders one last shake, “you sure do,”

life has been on repeat for you lately. you kept yourself busy to distract your thoughts. though, over the past few weeks, it was starting to become worse. you wake up, you go to class, and then work and home. the days you didn’t have class it was studying and then work.

it was a constant cycle, you were running in circles with nothing to do and no one to see. you couldn’t muster up the energy to hang out with friends like you usually would, you’ve never been a social person anyway.

laundry was beginning to pile up, friends were slowly slipping away, and grades were gradually dropping — the only good grade you had was in stats and that was all thanks to Leon. but you knew in a matter of time your grade in that class would probably drop as well.

you miss him.

he was a little light in your life. he wasn’t someone who drained your social battery or tired you out. he was someone who brought a smile onto your face and brought color to your plain canvas. even though it was a short time it was a good time.

he was so much more than just a tutor.

the music in your car was interrupted by a notification, it was an email. you looked from your phone and back towards the road. the email was from your professor, it was most likely about your absences and his concern. only your stats professor was this worried about his students, it was endearing really.

a part of you wanted to just drop out of the class. you knew you had an exam coming up, one you hadn’t studied for. everything seemed to just crash down on you right there and then. this is all because you decided to listen to your heart and because you weren’t strong enough to deal with the consequences.

you couldn’t spring back like a rubber band. you couldn’t just-

again your music was interrupted by a notification. you could laugh, “speaking of the devil,”

—

he was waiting for you like an angry father. he was leaning up against the doorframe to his room, his legs kicked over one another and his arms crossed over his chest. he hasn’t changed a bit. his hair was still the same length, albeit a shade darker from it being damp.

he wore an olive green sweater and grey sweats. you never knew how good the color looked on him until now. he still had that glare, though it was chillier than you remembered. you felt like you were doing a walk of shame. it felt like you were in trouble.

he watched you walk down the hall until you were standing in front of him. he took a moment to take you in, scanning you up and down. you were still in your work uniform, black pants, and a simple top. you smelt heavy of coffee and sweets, your name tag still attached to your shirt.

your eyes were puffy as if you’d been crying and they were bloodshot red. your shoulders were slumped and you were dragging your feet. your mascara was smudged, giving you somewhat of a smoky eye. you were drained.

your skin was dull along with the look in your eyes. you didn’t greet him with a smile or a small comment like you usually did. instead, you stood there, waiting for him to speak. it was obvious something was wrong but he didn’t know how to ask.

suddenly, you stop replying to his texts and showing up for class. it was a miracle he got you to come over.

“you know we have an exam in like three days?” he spat, scanning you up and down.

“i know,” you grumbled, shifting your weight from one leg to the other.

“have you studied at all?” he drawled out, bending down a bit to meet you.

you rolled your head away from him, unable to look him in the eye. after not seeing you in weeks or speaking to you this is the first thing he cares about. not a ‘hi’ or a ‘how are you?’, that’s right. you two aren’t friends. he is your tutor, he is your classmate, and he relies on your performance because that is what makes him look good.

he has no reason to greet you or ask how you’ve been, even though he was in between your thighs just a month ago.

“are you listening to me?”

“i can take care of myself, Leon,”

his eyebrows lifted and his eyes widened a bit, he was taken aback by your sudden burst of attitude. his glare was heavy and you felt so small, you felt helpless as if you could break in any second and he was picking at the cracks.

your head was pounding, the smell of coffee on your clothes overthrown by the smell of his cologne. he smelt as if he had just taken a shower, you could smell his shampoo and it only took you back to the night you slept in his arms coaxed to sleep with that smell alone.

“what’s wrong with you?” he asked, almost offended.

“i shouldn’t have come,” you grumbled to yourself, turning on your heel to leave but he caught you before you could. he grabbed your wrist and dragged you into his dorm. it was odd, you’ve been in this room so many times yet it feels foreign being in here.

the floors are cleaner than you remembered and it didn’t smell like old instant noodles and dirty laundry. the only thing was all of his clothes were piled on his bed, clothes he’d let wrinkle and sit there until he found the energy to hang them up.

a memory of you folding his clothes flashed into your mind. he was sitting at his desk in the middle of an important meeting with his conselour and you had come in for another session. you were bothered by all the clothes on his bed, the space was already small enough, so why make it smaller with a bunch of clothes?

cleaning was your way to destress, especially if you were bored. so sometimes cleaning his room was therapeutic and it was also a way of saying thank you to him.

“we need to study,”

“we?” you scoffed, “i don’t need your help anymore, Leon,”

“i doubt that,” he shrugged leaning back against his room door. it was silent after that.

you weren’t sure what to say, rather, you weren’t sure if there was anything to say. you two were back to square one; awkward silence and thick tension.

except, this tension was different. it wasn’t the uncomfortable tension that sat between strangers it was hungry. two people waiting for the other to say or do something.

you opened your mouth to speak but all that left was a weak breath.

your entire body was taut and you felt like you were spiraling out of control. the tips of your fingers burned and every nerve in your body was on edge.

“he pulled me to the side after class today,” Leon spoke up, ‘he’ being your stats professor. “he thinks that i didn’t do well with you,”

you licked over your dry lips, crossing your arms over your chest to somehow tune out the sound of your beating heart.

“yeah, he uh emailed me,”

“why haven’t you been in class?”

“busy,” you ran a hand over your head, slicking back any flyaway hairs into the bun on the back of your head.

“you always say that,” he scoffed, dropping his head down to stare at his feet.

“it’s true, i have work-“

“yeah, at a dingy cafe that pays you way too little,” he cut you off. he wasn’t wrong but he had no idea.

it didn’t take you long to realize that Leon never really knew you. sure, he has his moments he reads you like an open book but he has no idea what is wrong.

or he’s too afraid to admit that it was him. it’s him that is making you feel and act this way. it’s how you feel for him, it’s what he does to you and it’s what your heart desires that’s driving you insane.

it’s him.

“if you wanted another tutor, you could’ve just said that,”

“i don’t need another tutor,” you laughed almost comically.

“then what is wrong with you?” he practically shouted. his sudden tone of voice caught you off guard, you finally looked up at him — his eyes ablaze.

he almost looked as if he regretted shouting at you but at the same time, he looked relieved.

“i know you’re not an idiot, Leon,” you barked, “why can’t you figure it out yourself?”

“don’t do that,”

“do what?”

“avoid me! you’ve avoided me enough,” he took a step closer to you prompting you to step away. you were doing it again, avoiding him.

you were afraid. afraid that if he touched you or even was a few inches away from you, you’d break. you were scared that he didn’t feel the same way and you were scared that once he knew he’d throw you away.

you didn’t want this. to feel this way about yourself and him. you didn’t want to feel confused and conflicted. but… he has a way of bringing out the best and the worst in you.

“why do you care?”

“because one night you’re underneath me and the next you don’t even look my way,” he heaved. Leon didn’t know how to tell you he was worried beyond belief. he can’t sleep, he can’t focus, he can’t function. he has so many more things to worry about than you but somehow you’re at the top of his list.

you rubbed your lips together, spreading your chapstick even more. the way he is so straightforward sends you into a spiral, it is like whiplash.

“why did you call me, Leon?” you sighed, changing the topic. you were hurting him more than he thought. all he wanted to do was talk, he wanted to know what was wrong. he isn’t dumb, he figures that you were avoiding him because you slept together. he was the dumb one for thinking you two had a connection.

“we have an exam and you haven’t studied at all, so…”

“i don’t need your help anymore,”

he swallowed a lump in his throat, trying to keep himself from lashing out at you. he isn’t angry, he just wishes you’d talk to him.

“fine,” his tone was harsher than he intended, “let’s make a bet, hm?” he hummed.

this seemed to catch your attention. you looked over at him, your arms still crossed over your chest and a stern look on your face. you couldn’t help but feel intrigued.

“if you pass the exam, without my help, then i will leave you alone,,” you couldn’t help but feel a pang in your heart. is that what you wanted? for him to leave you alone? part of you says no but another part of you says it’s for the best. this is the last exam before finals, so you won’t be seeing him after this anyway.

“what do you consider passing?” you inquired, tilting your head to the side.

“a C or higher. not a C minus, a solid C,”

you nodded your head slowly, looking down at your feet as you kicked away some debris on the floor. Leon was never neat, it kind of hurt to see his room in such a disheveled state. then again, the only reason he ever cleaned was if you were coming over and today he didn’t have time. he sent you that text on pure impulse.

“okay and if i don’t pass?”

“you have to open up to me,”

this is the first time you’ve seen Leon be sweet and maybe slightly considerate. even though he was technically forcing you, he could’ve asked for anything else. he could’ve asked you to sleep with him again or to report back to your professor how much of a good tutor he is. instead, he wishes to know how you feel.

closure perhaps?

you went over the pros and cons. if you passed, he would leave you alone. though you hate it, you knew you’d get over him one day. if you don’t pass, you’ll have to come clean. you’ll have to tell him how you can’t get over that night because you not only felt so good, but it was the first time something was mutual.

you didn’t fuck him for shits and giggles or because you felt like you needed to. rather, it was because you wanted to and because you yearned for it. there was feeling and passion behind it, it wasn’t just dull and unenjoyable. it was good and raw. it was hot and deep.

but if you told him how you felt, would he accept it?

“fine,”

“good,” he hummed, “but you have to show me your score, don’t think you can just disappear on me again?”

—

three harsh knocks on his door woke him up. he practically shot up from his bed, his vision blurry and dry. he blinked a few times, adjusting his vision to his surroundings and his hands searched for his glasses. he must’ve fallen asleep after class, another class you did not attend.

you two haven’t talked since that day. the only thing close to communicating was the grin you gave him when you finished your exam. he tried his hardest to ignore the way his cock jumped in his pants and the way his heart fluttered.

you were confident that you passed, but he couldn’t wait to see your face when you realized you didn’t pass.

another three pounds, “coming! damn!” he shouted out, combing his fingers through his hair as he slipped on his glasses. he was still heavy with sleep and he trudged over to his door. rubbing his eyes, he opened the door and to his surprise, he was shoved in the chest — so harsh that the air in his lungs was almost knocked away.

he coughed with surprise, his eyes shooting open, “what the hell?”

“look at it,” you simpered, crossing your arms and jutting your chin at the paper you shoved in his chest. he sighed heavily, fixing his glasses as he brought the paper away from his chest and into his field of vision. he thought you were being a bit too hubristic but to his surprise, in bright red lettering; ’89%’.

fuck. he swallowed thickly, he underestimated you. he’s proud, you didn’t need his help and passed all on your own but now he’ll never see you again. of course, you came to boast and shove that in his face and you have every right. but you won the bet, now he has to leave you alone.

he shouldn’t have underestimated you. he was wrong to introduce the bet in the first place. he thought you’d fail and that you’d come to him and spill your guts. he knows you’re a person who doesn’t show their vulnerability to anyone. he knows you hate feeling like a burden for relying on others but he hoped that maybe that would change.

no. he doesn’t matter if it’s not fair or if karma gets him in the future. he won’t leave you alone. he can’t.

“seems like i don’t need your help after all,” you heaved, giving him two firm pats on his chest.

he gripped your wrist, holding your hand against his chest. he wasn’t letting you go again, no. it was going to drive him crazy. you may be fine but he won’t be. you could call him selfish, you could call him a cheater, you could punch him and yell but if it meant you’d stay — he’d take it all.

“Leon?” you couldn’t see his eyes. the glint in his glasses and his blonde strands covering his baby blues. his jaw was clenched and he stood there with your test crushed in his fist. his silence was scaring you.

he tugged you by your wrist until you were stumbling forward into his chest. he was silent as he slammed the door behind you and locked it. you could feel the pounding of his heart, fast-paced and violent. the grip he had on you was tight, almost demanding.

“Leon-“

your words were interrupted when his lips collided with yours. taken aback at first, you didn’t kiss back, you were trying to push him away but you couldn’t find any strength. you were on fire, butterflies fluttered in your stomach — causing you to tense up. your palms felt clammy and your heart hiccuped.

you won. so what is he doing?

you pushed him away, his lips leaving yours in a wet smack. you took a few steps back, cornered by his broad frame and the door behind you.

“what are you doing?” you heaved, but your breath was taken away again when his body pressed against yours, pining you to the door. his arms wrapped around your waist, bringing your torso close to him.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbled as his lips found yours again. this time in a more gentle manner, yet he was still firm. his kiss was filled with fire and passion, one that you two have never recovered from before. this is true and palpable. it didn’t take much convincing for you to kiss back.

he won, his body heat was numbing you, he was so hot it was almost impossible to withstand. his lips were so soft, slightly chapped and rough but still so plump and warm. you could feel his muscles rippling underneath his shirt as he moved his body with yours.

you shut your eyes and pressed yourself against him even harder. he pulled away for a quick moment, taking his crooked glasses off and tossing them somewhere beside you. your arms flew up and around his shoulders, tugging him closer.

his lips met yours again, this time his tongue finding your bottom lip. he hummed at the taste of your chapstick, sweet and smooth.

he was sucking the air out of you, it was hard to focus when his rough hands were so harshly trying to find your skin and his lips were molding with yours. sloppy and filled with pure lust. you didn’t want him to pull away, you wanted to suffocate against him. so your fingers traveled into his gorgeous hair and pulled him even closer.

it wasn’t possible to be any more closer than you already were but you couldn’t get enough.

he moaned into your mouth, and one of his hands came up from your hip and to your chin. he used his fingers to pry your mouth open that way he could taste more of you. the sweet cherry chapstick on your lips and the minty taste of gum on your tongue.

he pulled away, keeping his hand on your chin to tilt your head up to look at him. he was met with that cloudy glaze of your eyes and your swollen lips, shiny with saliva and agape to suck in short breaths. he placed his forehead against yours and swiped his thumb along your bottom lip.

you were trying to stand on the tip of your toes to meet his lips again but he only pulled back further every time you did.

“call me an asshole,” kiss. “but i don’t think i can leave you alone,”

you tugged at his hair causing him to wince, “i know,”

he could feel the way your heart was pounding against his chest, the way your legs were shaking, and the impatience grasping at him through your fingers. he was enraptured in the sight of you like this, the way he was the only one that could light the fire inside of you, and how that fire only burned for him.

he was the only one who could do this to you and both of you knew it.

he dipped down for another deep kiss, this time it wasn’t fast or sloppy. it was firm and slow. this time, you had time to catch up with his pace. slow and deep, you took time to taste him and he took time to taste you. wet smacks filled the room, along with the sound of heaving breaths.

he finally reached underneath your sweatshirt, slowly creeping up your stomach and then grabbing at your waist. he wanted to be slow. he wanted this to last. he wanted to show you just how much you meant to him.

“jump,”

and you did, wrapping your legs around his torso and locking your ankles. his hand reached out of the neck of your sweatshirt, splaying across the back of your head to keep your lips against his as he moved you across the room.

he kicked his chair out of the way and then leaned down to swipe all of his paperwork, including his computer, off of his desk. you winced at the sound of cups clattering and the way his computer hit the corner of his bed before falling to the ground.

he plopped you down onto the edge of his table, keeping one hand behind your head and one positioned beside you.

“you don’t know,” he breathed between kisses, “how bad i wanted to fuck you on this desk,”

his words sent a wave of pleasure through you, which only stimulated you further. you could feel the way your panties were sticking to your cunt and how every time he spoke your stomach burned. you were aching all over. you’ve been aching for a while.

“i need to see you,”

he was trying to be altruistic, he was trying to be patient but he wasn’t thinking. he could smell the arousal dripping off of you, the scent of your salty sweat mixed with your tangy-sweet perfume was making him drool.

you leaned away from him, grabbing at the hem of your sweatshirt before pulling it over your head. you were slow and deliberate, watching his eyes dart between your face and your bare skin. before you could even get the sweatshirt off your neck, you could feel his hands traveling up your sides and toward your breasts.

“no bra,” he pointed out, his breath wavering. you shivered as his fingers ghosted around your areolas. “you’re such a tease,”

the tips of his fingers were cold and you were sensitive, you dug your heels into his lower back, your whole body begging him for more. no matter if you won the bet or not, this was a much better outcome anyway. skin to skin. heavy breaths and passionate gazes.

you probably looked helpless. you were so turned on just by a guy groping at your chest. his thumbs rolled over your pebbled nipples, the sensation sending spikes of pleasure towards your core. you arched into him begging for more.

he placed a kiss on your collarbone, the kiss was soft and gentle but suddenly he opened his mouth and clamped down. he bit you and he bit you hard, hard enough to have you cry out his name in surprise. your fingers tangled in his hair, massaging at his scalp with the pads of your fingers.

his lips found your erect nipples, his hot tongue lapping over the sensitive tongue as a groan ripped from his throat. you shivered underneath him, a small whine leaving your lips as his other fingers rolled your other nipple between them.

his lips left your nipple with a pop and he blew cold air over the saliva he left on your skin. your nails dug into his scalp and he winced.

“i want you to take off your shorts and get yourself ready for me, ‘kay?” he whispered against your wound, his hot breath stinging where he had just bit you.

“why should i, hm?” you said even if you were going to play his game anyways.

you pushed away from him, moving further up the desk with your heels at the edge. he stepped back so that way he could see you and you could see him. he watched your chest rise and fall as you reached for the hem of your shorts.

you shimmied them off of your hips, leaving your panties on. pretty lavender panties, a bow right in the middle, and all lace except for the gusset.

a small laugh left his lips, “look how wet you are for me, slut,”

“asshole,” you spat as you kicked your shorts at him. the fabric slapped him in the cheek, and then fell to his feet. you couldn’t help the scoff that left your lips as you spread your legs for him.

you reached forward, grabbing Leon by the collar or his shirt before tugging him forward. you brought two fingers to his swollen lips to pry his mouth open. he gripped at the edge of the table while his other hand reached for your wrist.

“you’re testing me,” he crooned, tilting his head to the side before allowing you to slot two fingers into his mouth. his mouth was hot and wet, his strong tongue swirling around your fingers to get them as wet as possible.

he was so hard. all the blood that was supposed to be pumping to his brain was now pumping south, there wasn’t anything pure about him. his thoughts, his words, especially that look in his eyes. he released his grip from the table and reached for your free hand. he tugged you forward, guiding you to palm him through his pajama pants.

he groaned onto your fingers, “see what you do to me?” he hummed, craning his head to the side.

“mhmm,” you nodded.

he pulled your fingers out of his mouth and then guided them to the gusset of your panties.

“touch yourself, baby, let me see you,” he whispered and you were happy to oblige. he watched as you moved your panties to the side and he swears he’s never seen such a pretty pussy. plump lips and swollen clit, your hole dripping for him and glistening in the low light of his room.

“Leon,” you whined, squeezing at his girth as your wet fingers circled your clit. he moved your hand away from his cock, intertwining his fingers with yours and trapping your hand with his.

“i know, be patient baby and it’s all yours,” his voice was low and husky.

he watched you play with your clit, nimble fingers moving in small circles as your cunt clenched around absolutely nothing. he was just as impatient as you and as much as he wanted to pin you down and taste you for himself, he had to wait. he wanted to see you come undone right in front of him, he wanted to see how far he could push you before you break.

just like you broke him.

you traced circles around your cunt before you sunk your middle finger into you. the small stretch wasn’t enough but for some reason, it felt so good. it wasn’t enough to suffice your insatiable lust but it was what you’d been waiting for. your back arched and your hips bucked, a small gasp left your lips and you quickly shut yourself up by biting down on your bottom.

Leon’s glare wasn’t anything but predatory. the shadows on his face made the blue in his eyes almost indiscernible but you could see the hungry glint in them. his hand gripped yours tightly and his other hand coaxed at your outer thigh, rubbing and gripping at the fat to make sure your legs stayed open.

“good, good,” he said slowly, watching as you sunk another finger into your cunt. the stretch was so good but it wasn’t enough. you let out a heavy breath, your eyes squinting shut and your head rolling back.

“oh god, Leon,” you whined as you curled your fingers inside of you, the tips of your fingers barely reaching your g-spot, it wasn’t enough. you needed more. your fingers were too thin and too short, they couldn’t give you the amount of pleasure you were looking for.

Leon leaned forward, kissing at your skin and nipping at your collarbone. he knew how much you loved to wear those low-cut tops, he couldn’t wait to see you walk into class with hickeys and bites all over your chest that were from him.

“do you touch yourself like this when you think of me?” he heaved in your ear, his hand joining yours between your legs. you opened your lips to reply but only a small moan left when his two fingers pressed against your clit as your own were curling inside of you.

your hips bucked forward and you keened beneath him, trying to wriggle away from the overstimulation.

“answer me, baby,” he moaned, biting at your earlobe. you wanted to say no, you wanted to deny the fact that he was right. how you’d wake up in the middle of the night with your cunt aching to be touched. how you’d moan his name into your pillow as you ground down onto your fingers. how your dreams were filled with his touch and his voice. how the pleasure you gave yourself wasn’t anything compared to him.

“no, i don’t- agh!” he bit down on your earlobe as a warning.

“don’t lie,” he placed a kiss on your ear before moving down your neck. you shook your head as both his fingers and yours moved faster.

“okay yes, i do! so please…”

“good,”

you wanted to kill him, you wanted to kill him. he was driving you so crazy to the point every inch of your skin burned. his touch was so good, almost like a drug that numbed your entire body.

your jaw dropped open into a silent moan as one of his fingers moved from your clit and toward your hole. he pressed into your cunt, joining your two fingers, and the stretch burned.

“Leon!” you cried out, reaching up to grip his shoulder. he shushed you quietly, sweetly kissing the top of your head. you were quivering, adjusting to the way the sting burned but also reveling in the pleasure.

he worked his finger with yours, his finger was thicker and much longer and was able to reach that spot easily. you tried to clamp your legs shut, feeling overstimulated and hot but he was much stronger — only prying them open more every time.

“you can’t deny it,” he pressed a second finger into you, “you can’t get enough of me,” stars danced behind your eyes and a tear slipped down your cheek. it hurts to be stretched by not only your fingers but also his but it hurt so good.

the burn was slowly subsiding with each thrust of your fingers and the wet squelches only got louder. your lungs burned, you were finding it hard to breathe and every breath felt like you were sucking in fire. each thrust of his fingers and yours sent waves of pleasure through you.

he curled his fingers up against your g-spot and another cry left your lips. you were gripping at the collar of his shirt for your life, scratching at his neck and moaning his name over and over. he knew this feeling all too well, the trembling of your legs and the way you were clenching around your fingers.

“cum for me,”

he watched as your eyebrows furrowed as you bit down on your bottom lip. your toes curled and your thighs clamped together, a hot wave flashed through you as your knot snapped. you cried out a few expletives and came hard. your nails dug into his shoulder and your body curled into him.

you’ve never experienced such an orgasm unless it was with him. how easily he could make you drip and tremble, how hot he made you with just a glance, how easily he made you cum without even trying.

you looked so beautiful, coming undone on his fingers like that. you slumped against him, your cunt twitching around his fingers and small whines leaving your lips. your panties were soaked and you were spent, but he wasn’t done. he was far from done.

he slammed you down against the cold wood of the desk. the force knocked you awake and you arched your back away from the cold. his hands traveled under your thighs until he was holding the back of your knees. he spread your legs again until your glistening cunt was revealed to him once more.

your pussy was swollen, dripping from your previous orgasm and twitching with overstimulation.

“so proud of you,” he smiled, kissing your ankle. “don’t you think you deserve a reward?” he hummed.

he worked your panties off your legs, bunching them up into his fist before shoving them into the pocket of his pants. even though his pants were coming off soon, he couldn’t wait to reach back into them later and find your panties soaked with your essence.

it’s a little souvenir. one he’d stroke his cock to later on.

he continued kissing your ankle, absolutely enamored by every inch of you. your plump breasts that fit perfectly into the palm of his hand, your pretty cunt that responded so well to him, the juicy fat of your thighs, the way your ribs pocked out whenever you sucked in a deep breath.

he reached for the hem of his shirt, peeling it off of his sweaty skin and throwing it somewhere in the room. your hands reached to caress at his muscles, toned abs, and a sharp v-line. he was glistening with sweat, each vein popping out of his skin and his fair skin was as smooth as silk. he was beautiful, even if the words that he spat were sinful.

he had the face of an angel and the soul of a devil.

your feet worked at the hem of his pants, you were aching to feel his weight on top of you again. the heat of his body, the girth of his cock, and the stickiness of his skin and he must’ve seen it all painted across your visage. the hunger. the need. the desperation. it was all so raw and palpable.

“you act like you’ve never seen me before,” he grinned, tracing circles on your ankle with his thumb.

“i can say the same for you,” you smiled, finally getting his pants off the bones of his hips. you didn’t oversee the way he was watching you earlier, in a drunken state as he watched you delve into your desires — in a complete trance at the way your fingers moved in your cunt.

he worked the rest off, watching your hungry eyes follow his dropping pants. his cock sprung out and a small wince left his barred teeth as it slapped up against his stomach. he reached down and squeezed at the base of his cock, you watched as it twitched in his hold — slightly nervous. even though you’ve felt it before, his size will always intimidate you.

just like you’ll never get used to his beauty, you’ll also never get used to the size of him. veins wrapped around his girth and pre cum dripped from his hot red tip.

“like what you see?” he smiled, slapping the tip of his cock against your clit. you jolted with a small gasp leaving your lips. he moved the tip of his cock between your wet folds, spreading his precum over your labia and the hood of your clit.

your eyes stayed on his as his face came to hover over yours. he pressed a kiss to your lips, a deep and slow kiss. you wrapped your arms around him, trailing your fingers up and down his back. you opened your mouth allowing him to swipe his tongue against yours.

he wrapped an arm underneath your back, bringing you closer to him as his other hand guided his shaft through your wet, sticky lips. you shuddered at his tip nudging against your clit and you pulled away from the kiss, pressing your forehead against his.

his hair stuck to his forehead and his breath was heavy. he kept his face close to yours though he refused to kiss you, he wanted to watch your face as he fucked you. he wanted to see you, he wanted to memorize every way your face contorted, every noise you made, and every way you moaned his name.

“tell me if it hurts,”

you nodded, pressing your fingers into the muscles of his back to brace yourself. as one of his hands gripped the back of your knee, bringing your leg up higher, the other guided the tip of his cock into your dripping hole. both of your mouths dropped open, the feeling of your pussy swallowing his cock had his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

you sucked in a deep breath as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“so fucking tight,” he gasped out, his hand reaching up for yours. “i’ll treat you so good,” he breathed, opening his eyes to meet yours.

“i’ll treat you so good, so don’t ever leave me again,” with that, he thrust his way in, your whole body jolted and a sharp gasp left your lips. he buried himself to a tilt, making sure you were adjusted to his size before he moved any further.

“you never lost me, Leon,” your nails sunk into his back as his grip got tighter. you pressed your lips to his, swallowing every one of his labored breaths.

he slowly pulled out, until the tip of his cock almost left your cunt, before thrusting in hard. he continued this process, slow and deep thrusts, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix each time. the pressure of him pressing to your cervix pushed a small moan from your lips.

“fuck, fuck, fuck…” you moaned out, each word growing an octave higher. “faster, Leon, i’m begging you,”

“you don’t know what you’re asking for,” he sighed. his thrusts grew faster, the table underneath you squeaking and shaking. you arched up into him, moaning out his name with your teeth clenched. with each thrust of his cock, a small whine left your lips. his lips wrapped around one of your bouncing tits, sucking harshly at your perked nipples and savoring the taste of the sweat on your skin.

his rhythmic pace was almost punishing, you couldn’t catch a break or your breath but you loved it. you reached up into his hair, tangling your finger into his blonde strands as his teeth dragged and nipped at your sensitive nipple. you clenched down on him, dragging a wince out of his mouth.

the sound of skin slapping and wood creaking filled the room, his heavy grunts and your whiny moans were loud and the sounds tangled together like a lustful song. your mind was in mush, you couldn’t think of anything but him. Leon. Leon. Leon.

from the moment you met, it was all about him.

face. voice. body. and touch.

“it’s so good,” you cried, as a few tears slipped from the corner of your eyes. you could feel him in the pits of your stomach, that’s how deep he was. the slight curve of his cock was pressing up against your g-spot just right, it was enough to blur your vision and rip the air out of your chest.

you called out his name, wrapping one of your legs around his waist and your walls clenched down around him like a vice.

“don’t do that, baby,” he warned. he buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily against your skin. “god, you’re so beautiful it hurts,” he groaned.

you were left breathless, you weren’t sure what to say or do. but your heart skips a beat every time he calls you beautiful in such a way. did he really mean it or was he just playing with you?

you were too caught up in the pure ecstasy and the pleasure to care about what your heart thinks. you were too busy soaking in each second that way you’ll never forget this feeling. this feeling of pure bliss and passion. it wasn’t only the sex but it was a deep connection that ran through the two of you.

“Leon, i’m- i can’t,” you cried. he placed a kiss on your cheek and then on your lips, his pace only increasing. the sound of creaking wood matched with the sound of slapping skin, a ring of white coated the base of his cock — pre cum mixed with the essence dripping from you.

“cum for me, please,”

he swallowed your mouth in a kiss, sucking on your bottom lip to the point it bruised. you held onto him for dear life, the familiar knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter. he was the only one who was able to bring you from ashes to a grand flame, almost like a phoenix.

your desire for him ran deep and he knew every inch of your body like it was his own. he studied you and was able to figure out your puzzle. he could put you together and break you apart. that was the scary thing.

your body jolted as a wave of raw pleasure rushed through you, your toes curled and your thighs clamped around his torso. his name rolls off your tongue and onto his as you come undone, unraveling around him with his name on your lips. sweet as honey and thick as syrup.

he leaned over you, kissing your chin, and then at the corner of your lips. finally, his lips met yours. his cock was still pulsing inside of you, hard and hot. he continued to slowly roll his hips into you, easing you down from your high.

“you did so good, beautiful,” his praise did nothing but get you excited all over again. he wrapped your other leg around him and then his arms underneath you.

he carried you up off the table and then into his bed, you kept your legs wrapped around him until he laid you down into his sheets. you both were laid on your sides, arms wrapped around each other and legs entangled. he brought your leg around his waist, sinking his fingers into the fat of your thigh as he slowly began rolling his hips into yours again.

both of your mouths fell open into breathy moans, this new position allowed him to be so much deeper, the tip of his cock pressing to your cervix with each roll of his hips.

“you like that?” he heaved against your lips.

you nodded your head eagerly, his pace was slow but so good. he moved down, peppering your chest with kisses as one of his hands moved to massage the skin of your breasts with your nipple slotted between two of his fingers.

“you’re taking me so well, look at you,” he cooed, looking down at where your bodies intertwined. he watched his cock appear and disappear into your cunt, the juiced from your previous causing the skin of his cock to gleam. his balls were heavy with cum, every time he bottomed out into you they’d pressed against the round of your ass.

“Leon,” you moaned out, your voice breathless and low. you were so hot, your gummy walls clenching down on him with each small thrust.

you threw your head back, allowing him perfect access to your throat. he leaned up, away from your chest, kissing up the column of your throat before biting down hard into your skin. the feeling of his teeth sinking into your skin felt so good, it didn’t matter if it’d leave a mark or not.

you could stay like this forever, tangled in the sheets with him using your body for whatever he pleased, laying in the comfort of his arms as he coaxed you into your sweet dreams, surrendering your body to him in every way possible.

you were his, body, mind, heart, and soul.

he cupped your cheek, forcing you to look at him. the blue hues of his eyes were beguiling, pulling you deeper and deeper into this trance where the only thing that existed was him. he was the puppeteer in charge of all your strings.

he wanted to possess you then he got what he wanted.

he rolled on top of you, using his knee to spread your legs even further. he cupped your jaw, bringing your lips to his once again. he could get drunk on the feeling and the taste of your warm lips on his. his thrusts were deep and languidly slow, to the point it was almost torture.

“it feels so good,” you gasped out against his lips.

he reached down between the two of your bodies, finding your swollen clit. he pinched down on the small nub earning him a cry of his name against his lips. you clenched down around him, gyrating your hips up to meet his thrusts.

“fuck, you’re going to make me cum,”

“inside,” you begged, intertwining your fingers with his.

you wanted to feel it. the raw feeling of him marking you as his and painting your walls with his burning seed was enough to have you keening. you bit down on his shoulder as your third orgasm washed over you. this one was stronger than the others, your vision went white and your body shook with vigor. tears of bliss rolled down into your hair and your body was on fire.

your moans were muffled from you biting down on his shoulder and you could vaguely taste the iron of blood spilling onto your tongue. as much as it hurt, the sting felt so good, just like the red lines down his back.

he wasn’t far behind you, his hand reaching up for his pillow as a low moan left his lips. he buried himself to a tilt, spilling his hot seed inside of you. thick ropes spilled into you, milky white and heavy. he shuddered on top of you, sent over the edge from the feeling.

he’s never cum like this before, instantly all the energy and adrenaline in his body were depleted. his taut muscles relaxed, his shoulders slumping and his forehead coming to press against yours.

you both lay there, soaking in the bliss as you sunk into each other slowly. your chest pressed to his with every breath you took, your arms draping around his shoulders lazily and your legs dropping from around his waist.

his lips found yours as he softened inside of you. his kiss was slow and deep, his hand cupping your jaw as you both moved in sync.

you weren’t good with words. neither of you were. but he hoped that he could convey a message to you through this. he wanted to know that he didn’t want to say goodbye, he didn’t care whether you were friends or lovers. as long as you were beside him, it didn’t matter.

you smiled into the kiss, “i won the bet but you got what you wanted,”

“well aren’t you glad you passed your exam? plus, i know you wanted this as much as i did,” he chuckled, bringing his hand up to your sweaty strands. he tucked your frizzy hair behind your ears, slowly so he could see you in all your glory. you were glowing and the apple of his eye.

“fine, you win, but i passed all on my own,”

he rolled to his side, bringing you along with him. he brought the covers over your hot bodies as you situated yourself onto his arm, using his firm muscle as a pillow. he brought your leg over his waist again, wanting to be as close as possible.

“you really wanted to get rid of me, huh?” he sighed, letting his eyes drop close just a bit. his other arm wrapped around your torso, tucking you close to him.

“not really, just wanted to prove myself to you,” he opened one of his eyes, squinting at you.

“so you admit that you didn’t want to get rid of me?”

your fingers were busy walking up his shoulder as the other was tucked close between your sweaty bodies. you pursed your lips, watching your fingers work as legs against his skin.

“yeah, i guess i’ve taken a liking to you,” you hummed, adjusting your head.

he opened both of his eyes and he was met with the same face he’s seen all this time. though, every time it’s a little different. at first, he thought you were a hindrance. you were a student who signed up for a stats course and didn’t bother to learn anything. then you were a friend that he could poke at and laugh at. now you’re a girl lying in his arms, a beautiful girl.

a beautiful girl, naked and underneath the sheets with him. your limbs are tangled together and with sticky skin pressed against one another.

he smiled, “yeah, i like you too,”

(divider creds to @saradika ,, photos off of pinterest)

notes: if you wanna be on my tag list pls message me or fill out the form below (just to make it easier on me :D)

taglist

a/n : everyone cheered, V finally posted part two to her tutor fic. LOL,, the long awaited is here, sorry it took me 3 months lol but it's finally here. i want to thank all of you for all the love you showed part 1, i really hope this second part is up to your expectations :D!!

also, i'm pretty sure the photo i used of Leon for this fic is him and krauser ... that's all imma say

tags :

@xoxoloveless @luvrgreyy @ynsvnte @satinwithsilk

@childchomper1 @porcelainseashore @stefoooo @spfoah @chesue00

@daervannafia @puppyina @prettyntxhee @leonkennedygvrl

@altissia-09 @leqonsluv3r @yuiopiklmn @folksriddle @squazmine

@its0214-am @xqlenkdy @belovedcloud

@beafart @admirxation @neverg0nnagivey0uup @fancyyme @marymustdie

@bloodstainedbandaid @jeonmochi99-blog @zizouu23 @d3adp00ls

[feralhoekage]

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You can call me Olivia, Liv, Livi 🤍 I go by many names

I will never post nudes! Don't ask, it's tacky, & lame. && Please don't fill my submissions with dick pics I didn't ask for.

A little about me: I am 26, in my first year, getting my degree in botany. I'm pagan/wiccan, still very new though & something I keep close to myself because people can be cruel. I am a mom, I have three kids. I am also bisexual. Don't take my non-response to your messages as ignoring you. I'm very busy and cannot reply to everyone, every single day. Also if I repost something but don't reply to you, please don't be offended! I promise if I'm not responding, I am most likely in a shitty ass mood and I don't want to take that out on anyone. I am 5'5, and between 120 lbs. I have one tattoo, and one piercing. I'm a libra, October 21 is my birthday, and Halloween is my favorite day of the year. I am very shy, but can be very clingy... ugh.

I use tags HEAVILY on my page, click on the ones at the bottom of the post to navigate around a lot easier :) I promise you'll thank me

Enough of that, now! On to the kinks portion of the tour: (This list is still growing/I haven't figured all of mine out yet- so this list will change a bit most likely.)

Breeding | DD/lg | CNC | Corruption | Fauxcest | Masochism | Pain/Degrading | Size Difference | Somno | Age Difference | R@pe Play

Hard NO's!!!!!!!!!!!!! (I give one- maybe two depending on the person- warnings, then you will be blocked if you cross my boundaries.)

Anal (Traumatized from my experiences.)

Any body fluids EXCEPT cum and spit. (Blood is okay, haven't had much experience with it though)

diaper stuff - no hate, just not for me (:

Cheating/Poly-to each their own, but I don't like it.

Other things I enjoy since I am human and sex isn't the ONLY thing I think about(it's up there lol): Nordic mythology, Vikings(in every aspect), I want to be an author eventually(maybe), I smoke weed, I play video games. DC comics are my favorite but I do like marvel as well. Anime is my favorite genre. DnD! I absolutely love food. I can bake🥰 I do not look like I can eat but I can lol. I will 100% talk to you about tattoos all of the time 🥰. I am obviously in botany, so plants and trees are my favorite thing! My favorite colors are dark green, pink, and yellow 🩷 I'm very much into the dark and spooky side of everything, but I love the girly side of me and life as well.

Taken Anon Emojis: 🤠, 🦥, 🦀, 📌, 👑, 🐻, 🐺, ⚡,🐕, 🍀, FPFL , 🐯, 🦊

I follow people back, but it's based off your profile, I read bios. Your age has to be in your bio for me to follow you back. But if you have taken/married/open relationship or anything like that in your bio, I will not follow you back :) and I will not flirt with you if you're in any type of relationship 👍🏽 if I also find out that you have been flirting with me and are in a relationship you will be blocked immediately. I will not be lied to, by omission or otherwise. Please be respectful 🤍

~ Since I keep getting asked about it in my asks Click here for my CashApp. Or click here for my Ko-Fi | Please don't take this as me asking for ANYTHING, I do not like answering those asks because it feels like I'm begging? And not in the fun way. ~

Here's my Twitter link as well since I forgot it 🫠😅🥰

[hannie-dul-set]

heartbeat conquest — day 0.

SYNOPSIS. you’re sucked into a reverse harem otome game, and there’s only one goal— say the right things to conquer as many pretty boys as you can. PAIRINGS. tomorrow x together x reader. TAGS. social media! au, modern fantasy, reverse harem (of fucking course), romance, humor, a whole bunch of weird dynamics maybe HUAHAHAHAHAHHAAH. inspired by the manhwa with the same title, “heartbeat conquest.”

it's pink.

no, literally. it’s all pink. one moment, you see the headlights of a van coming straight at you. the next moment, you open your eyes and see nothing but pink. pink floor. pink ceiling. pink walls (if there even are walls. you’ve been walking around for what seems like ages but you’re yet to bump into one).

you never thought that the afterlife was gonna be so bubblegum-y and barren.

but then again, you never expected that you’d be bringing your phone to the afterlife, either.

ding!

now, what in the otome isekai bullshit is this crap?

seriously, what the hell? is this actually real? you stare at your phone, eyes narrowed in confusion and suspicion as the notifications keep pouring in— the same text over and over again prompting you to unlock, to start whatever this thing meant by conquest.

this really must be some weird post-death fever dream (can you dream when you’re dead?) but whatever mindfuckery this is, there’s one thing that’s clear to you.

if unlocking meant getting out of this pink-stained hell, might as well give it a damned shot.

your thumb presses the screen. you swipe up.

ding!

all your senses are swallowed by that dreaded shade of sickly sweet, bubblegum pink—

ding! ding! ding!

— and next thing you know, you’re now in an unfamiliar room, pink skies leaking through the sheer curtained window, trinkets strewn about the lived-in bedroom—

ding!

—with five new messages on your phone.

“—the natural talent to be loved and adored by all.”

ding! ding! ding! ding! ding!

how do you start your conquest?

NOTE. i have no idea what the fuck this is going to be, but let’s all have a blast anyway!!!

this is a choose your own adventure. click on the link above and answer the form to progress with the story. you’re the MC of this world who had just been sucked into wherever the fuck this is and have no idea who these five mystery men are, so just to your best in responding with the context that you currently have (none). after this one, more context will be provided, i promise BWAHAH.

honestly the only way to win this and get a “good ending” is to get a correct read of the boys’ characters and give the right responses— and if you’ve read a bunch of my stuff, you probably have a good idea on how i like my male leads HAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHA.

i will synthesize all submitted replies and move forward from there. the form will close once i get enough responses. this is just a little experiment that i’m doing and i have no idea how this gonna turn out HHAHHAHAHAHAHAH still, i hope you guys will participate!

DAY 0 | DAY 1

heartbeat conquest. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[sayyestoheav3nn]

Nights Like This: Part Two

Roman x black!oc

Warnings: language, angst

Word count: 2.1k

a/n: thank you all for the support 🥹 your kind words motivated me to go for it 🫶🏽 if i forgot to tag you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list please feel free to lmk 💕

Seeing that the sun was starting to set, Roman knew it was time to wrap up his call with his boss, Hunter. “I’ll look into it tomorrow and let you know,” he assured.

Roman was pissed that his meetings ended up running longer than he intended, when he looked at the time on his watch, he realized he only had about an hour or so to shower and get ready for their dinner reservation. Having so many business calls back to back drained the hell out of him, but he didn’t want Zoe to know that, this trip was about her, he wanted to keep it that way.

As he opened the sliding door and walked in, he immediately noticed it was extremely quiet. Usually, when Zoe is showering or getting ready, she’s blasting her music or she has ‘Insecure' playing in the background. Her routine has never failed, to say Roman was confused would be an understatement.

He wondered if she fell asleep again, Roman knows from first-hand experience that Zoe is a heavy sleeper, he can’t even begin to count how many times he’s woken her up when she’s slept through her alarms. He quietly approached the bedroom, as he stepped in, he looked towards the bed and saw she wasn’t there. Maybe she stepped out, but it’s not like her to leave without saying anything. Roman started to pace the room and when he turned the corner, his foot stumbled across something causing him to trip.

After getting back up, he instinctively went to see what it was. Glancing down he saw his workout clothes spread across the floor, What the fuck? And thats when he sees it, the fucking condoms right on top of his workout bag.

“Shit!’’

…………..

Despite trying her best not to annoy the taxi driver, Zoe spent the whole car ride crying. There’s nothing she wanted more than to go home, but she knew that was the first place Roman would go looking for her. The best thing she could think to do, was to go pick up some of her things and stay a few nights with one of her friends, who recently moved an hour away from her. Even though she dreaded the thought of having to be on a six hour flight, she decided it was worth it, especially compared to being alone in a state she wasn’t familiar with.

Once she arrived at the airport, she noticed it was surprisingly not over crowded, which allowed her to get a ticket with no problems. Since she had about an hour or more before departure, she decided to actually respond to some of her work emails, knowing she was going to have to sooner or later. Zoe loves her job and is extremely grateful for the many opportunities it’s given her, however, it can be very stressful when an upcoming live event is right around the corner and a wrestler decides to make last minute request to change or add something to their gear.

With this being said, Zoe loves the challenge, so she tries to accommodate them as best as she can. As she’s responding to the last few emails, her phone starts ringing and she sees his name pop up. His lying ass must’ve seen the condoms she left out on the floor. Her immediate thought was to block him, but she knows Roman is persistent, he’ll just call her from different phones until she answers. Seeing his contact picture pisses her off, and as she starts to hear the text message notifications, she throws her phone back in her purse. The last thing she wants, is to hear anything this nigga has to say.

After twenty minutes of mentally debating whether the long line was worth it or not, Zoe decided to go buy herself a coffee, and by the time she made it back, it was time to start boarding. Zoe was fortunate enough to have a whole row to herself. She pulled her hoodie over her head and faced the window, hoping nobody would see her when she’d inevitably start to cry again.

During the first few hours of the flight, she tried to distract herself by watching a movie, but nothing was enough to keep her from thinking of him. She couldn’t understand how someone she’s spent so much time with, could be so loving towards her, while simultaneously doing shady shit behind her back. Zoe was emotionally exhausted. Any time she would try to sleep, her mind would work overboard causing her to be restless. She decided to take a melatonin so she could actually give her mind a break. As time went by she could feel her sleepiness slowly start to creep in, and before she knew it, it was lights out.

………….

Zoe woke up just as the plane was starting to land, she felt relieved not having to bother with baggage claim, considering she didn’t have time to pack shit. She ordered an Uber to take her home, so she could get her car and grab some clothes.

When she arrived home, she took a deep breath and unlocked the door. Thank God, this man isn’t here. Zoe ran up the stairs into the master bedroom, and started to grab a couple outfits and pajamas from her drawers and closet. In case that Roman was on his way, she wanted to hurry and get the hell out of there. After she threw some clothes and a couple miscellaneous items into a duffle bag, she headed back downstairs to grab her car keys. Once Zoe was in the car she went through her messages, so she could put her friends new address in her gps and start the drive.

Roman’s back to back calls and messages kept interrupting her gps, so she ended up having to block him fifteen minutes into the drive.The hour went by faster than she expected, and when she pulled into the driveway she was in awe by how huge the house was.

She got out and knocked on the door a few times. Zoe hadn’t told her friend the real reason for this impromptu visit. A part of her felt embarrassed, especially remembering when just a year ago, she had called her crying happy tears when Roman told her ‘I love you’ for the first time. This shit felt humiliating.

Zoe heard footsteps and the door unlock, she smiled softly, “ Hi, Serena.”

“Hey, Zo Zo!”, Serena’s smile was radiating, her dark coils were now shoulder length, noticing this reminded Zoe of the fact that it’s taken her one too many months, to come visit her new place.

Serena studied Zoe’s face, she could see the mascara streaks on her cheek, and how puffy her eyes were. “Zo, are you okay? What’s wrong?” before Zoe could respond Serena hugged her and motioned for her to come inside.

Serena guided Zoe past the living room, towards her spacious kitchen. “Damn, your place is stunning Serena, I’m sorry I hadn’t stopped by to check it out sooner, my schedule has been all over the place lately.”

“Thanks boo, it’s no worries I promise , I’m just happy you’re finally able to see it,” Serena beamed. They both sat down on the stools next to the kitchen island.

“Enough about me, what going on with you?” Zoe couldn’t even get a word out, she felt the lump in her throat start to form and the tears immediately following. Serena gently rubbed her shoulders, “Zo it’s me, you can talk to me.”

“I think Roman is cheating on me,” she blurted.

“What the hell? What makes you think that?”

Zoe took a deep breath and nervously fiddled with her hands, “I found condoms in his bag when I was looking for something.” Serena looked flabbergasted, she got up from her chair and grabbed a bottle of wine along with some wine glasses, making sure to pour both of them a very generous amount. “What did he say when you confronted him?’

“I haven’t yet, I immediately got the hell out of there, and came straight here.”

Serena looked shocked and was silent for a minute, which to Zoe felt like an eternity, she then picked up her wine glass and chugged it like it was water. “ If I were you I’d leave his ass without asking any questions, that nigga doesn’t deserve any more of your time,” she shook her head and started to pour herself a second glass.

“It’s not that simple Serena. I have to eventually see him at work, and the last thing I want, is this shit following me there,” Zoe used the sleeves of her hoodie to wipe her tears.

“Zo, your last ex did you dirty how many times? It took you forever to end that cycle, all I’m saying is sometimes you have to get a backbone and end that shit then and there.”

Irritation. That’s what Zoe is feeling in this exact moment. The one person who she thought, would understand more than anyone, is making her feel like an idiot. Bringing up her ex felt like a low blow, Serena knows more than anyone how long it took Zoe to learn to love and trust again after getting out of that toxic ass relationship.

Zoe took a deep breath, she’s had an extremely long day, that seems to be taking a toll on her. She doesn’t want to take her anger out on the wrong person, so she decides to let it go.

Serena sensed the slight tension, so she changes the subject.“You look tired friend, I’m going to make you a nice and warm bubble bath.”

“I appreciate it, but you don’t have to do that for me, a shower is more than enough.”

“I don’t mind really, plus it’s raining hard as hell right now, it’ll be a perfect way for you to rest and relax a bit. I’ll order us some pizza so we can eat when you get out,” Serena ran upstairs before Zoe could decline. And after a few minutes, she came back saying everything was set. Zoe thanked her, and made her way upstairs.

When Zoe looked at herself in the mirror, she could see how worn down she looked. Her eyes felt and looked swollen, she cried so much she wasn’t sure she had any tears left. She sat on the edge of the tub for fifteen minutes, contemplating on what to do. She knew she couldn’t avoid Roman forever, it didn’t help that they would eventually have to see each other at work. She needed to figure her shit out before it was time to go back, the last thing she wanted was to bring her drama there and seem unprofessional.

Zoe was about to undress and get in the tub, when she realized she forgot to ask Serena for a shower cap. As she began to make her way downstairs, she heard low whispers. Damn that pizza got here fast, she didn’t want to intrude rudely so she quietly descended down the stairs. Zoe walked through the hallway following the muttering which was leading her towards the entrance, and thats when she hears it. She knows that voice from anywhere, his voice. She stopped right in her tracks. What the fuck? They hadn’t seen her yet, so she stayed hidden, but close enough to where she could hear and slightly see.

“Lower your fucking voice, the bathroom isn’t soundproof,” Serena was whispering, she quickly glanced upstairs to see if Zoe was out.

“I don’t give a fuck, I need to see her,” She could see Roman was soaked from the rain, his hair was down, wet and disheveled. He pushed some of his strands back while towering over Serena, demanding to see Zoe.

“Roman, are you fucking stupid? This is her first time being here since I’ve moved, if she sees you she’s gonna ask how the fuck you know I live here,” Serena hissed.

“Why didn’t you tell her?” Zoe could hear the irritation growing in his voice.

“What good is that going to do Roman?” Serena protested.

“Well I’m fucking going to,” he sneered.

“Yeah lets see how that goes for you,” she scoffed while crossing her arms.

“I cant—” Roman closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his voice softening. “I can’t lose her… please let me be the one to tell her.”

Zoe has had enough of the bullshit, she’s tired of being surrounded by fucking liars. She stepped out walking towards them.

“Tell me what?”

[peachsayshi]

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ being wrapped in your arms feels like coming home ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

wc: 1,820

minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

notes: here is a little drabble in honor of toji's birthday! this piece was originally titled as "adoration" but I changed it to this instead. I'm taking a small posting break, but I'll be back to my regular schedule within a week! I'm sorry if I haven't been responding to tags or messages, but I will do so soon <3 I hope you're all having a wonderful time and I'm sending all my well wishes out to you! xo

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: widow toji; age gap (reader is 30 while toji is in his early 40s); a little angsty; toji attempting to break up with you but failing because he's oh so in love

toji overstayed his welcome which was only supposed to last the scorching heat of summer, but he found himself lingering through the quiet stillness of fall. winter came in with a brisk chill and gloomy skies, and that's when toji knew it was time for him to end things with you.

he’s lost interest far quicker in previous relationships. they served their purpose of healing over the wound in his heart, of soothing away the ache of loneliness. he oftens forgets that he was once a loyal, loving husband whenever he abandons yet another fling.

the difference, however, is he at least had the guts to verbally cut things off before.

fucking pathetic, he thinks as he scolds himself. he's been a coward, reducing his actions to disappearing before the sunlight peeks through the horizon, and avoiding any chance of waking you up. he ensures that he is never there to see the way your brows furrow with concern when your hand meets the cold pillow, because otherwise he would falter in his attempt to escape.

this has been going on for over two weeks now but last night was the first time you've actually snapped at his cold, detached behavior. he approached the argument with nonchalance to wither you down, shrugging off the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach and then walking out halfway through the fight.

he stayed at a motel thinking that maybe you have finally taken the hint that he's done.

he arrives back to his apartment only to be met with unfamiliar silence. the entrance of his home is dark and lifeless, and it's so quiet he can even hear a pin drop. there's a tightness in his chest, followed by a wave of disappointment that runs over him like a feverish shiver.

despite his hard headed decision, he's still anticipating on hearing your lovely voice to greet him as he walks through the door.

he knows it's selfish.

toji expected many things to happen after last night's fight. he figured the reaction to him leaving you (again) would be far bigger. a screaming phone call or a string of cursing text messages to call him out on his shitty behavior.

after all he deserves it for acting like an insufferable asshole.

he tries to swallow his guilt but it remains lodged in his throat when he acknowledges that this might actually be the end. 

the expression on his features falls.

it’s better this way, he consoles, dragging his feet across the floor to approach his kitchenette. he shrugs off his beaten up, oversized coat and tosses it over one of the chairs. he opens one of the cupboards, and grabs a mug to prepare himself a cup of tea.

she’s too young to settle for a guy like me, he continues. widowed with two kids who he barely sees anymore, working paycheck to paycheck just to make ends meet…

a deadbeat.

he exhales, swirling his brew in his ceramic cup. the aroma of sweet leaves dances up the spiral of steam to kiss his nose.

she deserves more than me.

he places the kettle down but stares at the cup mindlessly, losing all train of thought as his hands grip onto the edge of the counter. 

he can acknowledge that his insecurities are clouding his judgement on something truly special, even though this was only ever meant to be purely physical.

except, the sex was growing more intimate. the experience wasn't about pleasure for him anymore. he would find himself losing all focus to the depth of your pretty eyes, stealing kiss after kiss like your mouth was the source of where all his happiness belongs.

belonged.

belonged.

it’s over now, he thinks again. it has to be.

a faint patter of footsteps distracts him, prompting him to ease his hold on the counter as the muscles on his face relax. his heart steadies itself, and he draws in a breath when he feels two arms delicately twine around his waist.

“you’re...still here...” he points out in shock. 

he feels you press your forehead into his back. “of course, where else would I be?” 

he clears his throat to release the guilt then spins on his heel to face you.

"I thought you might have taken off," he bluntly states as he rests his lower back against the counter.

his heart swells, emanates flurries of golden sparks when he meets your gorgeous irises. the will to carry on with his decision crumbles when he catches the corner of your mouth tick into a slight grin.

"I thought about it," you reply casually, loosening your grip to place your palms flat on the side of his stomach. "but the truth is I'm worried about you and I just…want to talk things out…make sure you're okay...”

“I’m the one acting like a jerk and you’re worried about me?” he blurts.

you quirk your brow at the slip of his question. “so, you know you’re acting like a jerk?”

toji’s eyes widen slightly, a hint of pink tainting his cheek. “I asked the question first.”

you purse your lips playfully, aware of the crack that's been revealed and ready to swing once again with another blow.

“it’s because you’re acting like a jerk that I’m worried about you,” you explain, “you’re not yourself when you’re unsettled about something…”

his face warms, the hue of pink deepening into a stronger blush. the familiarity of pointing out his personal traits feels all too homely. seven months shouldn’t feel like a forever but in this bubble with you time ceases to exist.

you trail the pads of your finger tips up his torso, your hands clasping around the back of his neck as you press all your soft and sweet parts right up against the frame of his body.

the brush of your lips on his scar prompts him to flutter his eyes close. he fails to stop himself from holding you then, his firm hands reaching for the outline of your waist

“so,” you murmur with a tempting kiss as you return to your question, “you know you’re acting like a jerk then?”

please don’t make me say it, he thinks, please don’t make me unravel right in front of your eyes.

he squeezes your side, whispering a defeated “listen…”

“did I do something wrong?” you question, a hint of pain laced through every vowel which only makes his heart ache further. “did something happen?”

toji shakes his head.

“it’s not you,” he grumbles. “look, you asked me a couple of weeks ago if this thing between us was serious and…it shouldn’t be.”

you narrow your gaze, tilting your head with adorable confusion that makes toji want to kiss you right there on the spot.

he can feel you pluck at the fabric of his sweater nervously, “why not?”

toji drops his head and sighs.

“c’mon, doll, let’s be real. I’ve got nothing to give you other than a good fuck in this shitty apartment. you're better off finding someone else and I don't want to waste your time”

you press your mouth into a firm line. “your behavior…” you reply, nipping your bottom lip slightly as you gather your thoughts. “are you acting like this because you…want to end things with me?”

toji has never felt smaller. you’ve reduced him into a shriveled pea rolling around his scuffed up boot. “look, it’s better this way, alright?” he admits with a raise of his head, still refusing to outwardly say what you easily deduced. “it's better to move on before things get too complicated…”

the silence hangs heavy in the air, the tension so thick toji feels like he can’t breathe properly. his heart rattles with no restraint, and he finds himself suddenly lightheaded. an apology rests on the tip of his tongue, ready to take back everything he just bombarded you with but his throat simply tightens once more when your hands cradle his strong jaw.

“I like your apartment,” you quietly speak, “your bed sheets always smell so good, and you fixed the water pressure after I complained that it sucked…”

toji blinks back his surprise.

“I also notice that you burn the candle that I got you and that you switched laundry detergents when your old one gave me that weird rash,” you giggle and toji couldn’t help but huff out an embarrassed laugh himself. “the windows let in the best kind of sunlight, and it’s always so cozy in here…”

you press your lips against his mouth to leave a chaste kiss, “as for the company…” you add on, nuzzling the tip of your nose over his, “I consider you more than just a good fuck.”

toji can physically feel himself wilting underneath the heat of your gaze. “I’m just looking out for you, doll.”

"you can look out for me by making me breakfast instead of running away from me..."

he looks serious but his eyes are sincere, holding a level of tenderness that he only reserves for you. his palm moves to seek out your lower back, a hint of pressure pulling you back into his warmth.

your lover has stayed tight lipped about his past, but over his period with you he's found himself spilling out a few secrets here and there.

"I haven't done this in a long time," he vulnerably admits.

"I know," you reassure him, "but...the real question is, do you want this?"

he parts his lips ready to seal the last nail in the coffin, ready to give you the chance to walk out of his life for good. but you're gazing up at him from underneath your eyelashes, your determined stare an opening of your own mercy. your plush, supple lips summoning his cowardice into oblivion.

"toji?"

his breath hitches, his apprehension silenced by the urgency of his desire.

you're so lovely, he thinks. you feel like home.

"I want you," he reveals, his deep voice smoky and untethered, releasing enough sentiment in those three words that he can feel you tremble in his arms. "I just don't deserve you. I don't want you getting caught up in my bullshit..."

""you're a lot sweeter than you look, you know?" you run your fingers through the streaks of his black hair, combing it back to reveal his forehead. "you deserve to be happy, toji, and...and I think I can make you happy..."

your aura beams with delight when he flashes you a wolfish grin in return. a smile you've grown to adore so deeply. his apology comes in the form of a kiss, one that's gentle and slow. a stroke of fire burns up the back of your neck, making you quiver in places when he glides his tongue across yours. you hum softly into his lips while he releases a content sigh, the barrier he's been keeping up turns to ashes beneath your feet.

[f1byjessie]

HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.

love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.

( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )

━━ part seven.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 23,873 others

yourusername had to take these pictures myself bc apparently angles are “too hard”

view all 1,972 comments

landonorris maybe you should’ve just asked me 🙄

↳ yourusername as much as i love your results you turn what should be a quick 5 mins into a 20 min photoshoot

↳ landonorris yes and?? i’m not seeing what the downside is 🤨

user HOW MANY LETTERS IN SARGEANT???

user literally who needs boys when girls like y/n exist

↳ user REAL

logansargeant i know about angles

↳ yourusername yes logie and your future girlfriends will thank me for it 🫶

user that dress is stunning and i want it but i know it costs more than a month’s worth of my pay 🥲🥲🥲

user ferrari spotted = y/n for ferrari 2024

↳ user get that girl in a formula car and leT HER DRIVE

oscarpiastri in my defense your heels make you as tall as me 🫤

↳ yourusername methinks it’s just bc you only know how to take one type of picture and it’s the awkward dad kind 🫤

user OSCAR??? HAS OUR HUSBAND RETURNED FROM THE WAR???

↳ user mama y papa

user OP81 IS BACK IN THESE COMMENTS WAR IS OVER

With Oscar by your side, time passes quickly. You don’t bring up that the first night you shared a bed, you’d woken up in the morning with his arm wrapped around your waist and his breath tickling the back of your neck, and you certainly don’t mention that he’d practically whined in his sleep when you’d slipped out of his grasp. It doesn’t happen again, but there’s a part of you hoping that it does.

The days blend together into a haze of happiness, laughter, and exploring the beauty of Monaco. Lando shows you the best spots— a garden just off the Monte Carlo marina, a famous nightclub that takes your breath away, and a small cafe at the edge of the city that overlooks it all.

Things are good, great even, but you can’t help but feel like there’s still some distance between you and Oscar despite his reassurance that everything is fine.

When New Year’s Eve— and subsequently your birthday— arrives, you’re awoken to a flurry of texts. Your parents have both sent sweet messages wishing you the best, Sophia has left a voice message with sounds of traffic in the background telling you she’s planning to get wasted and if you do too then you can just pretend you’re wasted together, and Dalton has made a group chat with you and Logan and has spammed you both with pictures of yourselves from across the years.

Oscar’s already gone, and his side of the bed is cold, so you take your time responding to them all and then shoot off a message of your own to Logan before getting up. It’s your first time not celebrating with your brother, and it feels strange knowing that you won’t get to see him today, but you’re excited nonetheless for the plans Lando and the other drivers in Monaco have organized for New Year’s Eve.

The day passes by lazily. Lando and Oscar both greet you with birthday wishes when you make your way down to the living room and then they present to you a feast for breakfast, which you realize is the reason Oscar was awake so much earlier than you. It’s the best breakfast you’ve ever had, mostly because they make fools of themselves retelling how many times they had to scrap the failed waffles until they got it right. You spend lunch at a place close by, joined by Alex and Lily who have flown in for the New Year, and then the rest of the afternoon you wait around at Lando’s place passing the time watching the boys play games on the TV and helping either of them cheat when asked.

You’re happy.

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logansargeant people say twins are like built-in best friends, and if that’s the case then i’m glad i got you as mine. i can’t imagine having anyone else stick by my side throughout all the crazy and wild shit we’ve been through in our lives. it feels like just yesterday we were 13 and acting as each other's lifelines in a place we barely knew, and now we’re 23 and somehow doing the same thing. you’re my best friend forever.

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yourusername love you to the moon and back again logie 🫶 (but omg these pictures are so OLD)

↳ logansargeant love you to the stars and beyond 🫶 (yea well when else am i gonna post them?)

user i thought the only reason i’d be crying today is bc i don’t have a nye kiss but here we are aND THE BABY HANDS OMG

user I CAN’T DO THIS 😭😭😭

user sobbing over a birthday post was not on my 2023 bingo but i’ll be sure to add it to 2024 if this is gonna be a yearly thing

↳ user birthdays are a yearly thing so yea 💀

user i can’t stop thinking about the fact that each other was all they had when logan pursued racing in europe and now logan’s made it to f1 and they’re still all they have 😭

↳ user the sargeant twins are genuinely gonna be the death of me one of these days

user Y/N HAS BEEN THERE FOR HIM SINCE THE BEGINNING OMG

williamsracing Happiest of birthdays to Y/N! We look forward to seeing you out on the paddock more in 2024, and can’t wait to see what the new year has in store for you! 💙

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yourusername 23 + 23 = 46. 4 + 6 = 10. 10 - 2 = 8 and that’s what we’ve done for the last 23 years 😎 but real talk, i’m genuinely so honored to get to be your sister, and to share so much with you. when you win i share that joy, and when you lose i share that grief, and even though we’re an ocean away, i’m with you today and always for the rest of our lives. you’re my best friend, and even if i don’t have anything or anyone else, i know i have you and that makes me the luckiest girl in the world ❤️.

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user ATE ATE ATE

logansargeant went through all the stages of grief as i read that caption

↳ yourusername i do try

↳ logansargeant i know

user HAPPY BIRTHDAY SARGEANT TWINS

user these pictures of logan are SENDING ME

↳ user y/n always feeds the ppl the low qual pics

alex_albon adding these to my folder of embarrassing pictures to blackmail logan with

↳ yourusername happy doing business with you sir 🤝

user SCREAMING CRYING SOBBING

user my mental health is dependent on the friendship between y/n and logan and it is STRUGGLING today lads

user can’t wait to see more of them in 2024!!

Lando finds you as you’re getting ready, putting the final touches on your makeup. He enters when you tell him to, and then leans against the bathroom counter for a moment just staring at you before you quirk an eyebrow at him.

“How are things going between you and Oscar?”

You lower the mascara wand and shrug, “I mean, it’s good.”

“But?” He prompts.

“But I feel like he’s still… being weird?” You slip the wand back into the mascara tube and then tuck it back into your bag. “I don’t know. Maybe we were a bit too realistic with the whole ‘making him jealous’ thing, and now he believes you’ve stuck your claim and he’s distancing himself because he doesn’t want to step on your toes or something.”

Lando snorts, “As if. I made him share a room with you, how does that in any way imply that I’m trying to stake my claim on you?”

You run a hand through your hair because you can’t run it down your face without ruining your freshly done makeup, and heave a sigh. “Then maybe he just isn’t actually interested in me at all, and I was right about him wanting to pretend the kiss never happened.”

He hums, then nods once, twice, a third time, and finally leaves the bathroom without another word.

When you finally follow him down, a number of people have already arrived— Alex and Lily are among them, and you greet them again with smiles and hugs. You’re introduced to Max Fewtrell, one of Lando’s close friends, and then you’re dragged away by Lily to hang out in the corner of the living room as the house begins to fill with current and former drivers alike.

“It’s a sausage fest,” she jokes, and you laugh beside her.

You both make conversation for a while, catching up on her and Alex’s holiday spent in California with her family and then talking about your own in Florida with yours. She asks how Logan’s doing, and you tell her that he’s well, but he’s really motivated and wants the chance to prove himself in the 2024 season already.

“I think the online discourse about whether or not he deserved a seat got to him a bit,” you admit. “But I know he can show them that there’s a reason he was chosen.”

Lily nods. “Me and Alex have faith in him too. It was his rookie year and he was in a Williams of all things. Like you said, there was a reason he was chosen, he just needs the opportunity to show the world that.”

You jump from topic to topic for a little while longer, until you excuse yourself to go find where Lando and Oscar have run off to. The guests have all arrived from the looks of it, and while a number of them all know each other already and have split off into groups to stay entertained, you’re not sure exactly how you’re meant to handle things on your own when it isn’t even your house—

“I mean, it’s fine, yeah? It’s just awkward with her, I guess.” You pause. The door to you and Oscar’s shared room is ajar and Oscar’s voice is just barely audible over the sound of music and chatter filtering up from downstairs.

“Why d’you say that? It’s just Y/N.” Lando’s voice follows.

You press yourself up against the wall, heart pounding in your chest at the sound of your name. You can’t see anything, and that almost makes it worse— imagining what their faces look like as they talk about you.

“Just that it’s weird sleeping next to her, and I feel like I’m always having to walk on glass around her. I’m trying to make things normal again, but I don’t think I can. I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep being friends with her. How can I look her in the face, knowing what happened?”

You can physically feel the dread settle into your stomach. Your heart clenches painfully in your chest and it’s like your blood has turned to ice in your veins. Your face feels warm, but the rest of your body feels cold, and suddenly it’s as though your ribcage has become too small for your lungs.

As quietly as you can, you scurry away from the door, across the distance of the hallway, and then down the stairs. Instead of turning into the living room where everyone else has gathered, their laughter and conversations a jumbled bubble of noise that makes your chest feel even tighter, you leave through the front door just as you feel tears begin to fall.

It’s worrying how frequently this has become an occurrence for you— crying because of Oscar.

━━ tags: @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis @405rry @aquangxl @bellezaycafe @peqch-pie @formulaal @chonkybonky @mess-is-my-aesthetic @flippingmyshit @peachiicherries @spacegirlstuff @myxticmoon @landosgirlxoxo @k-pevensie28 @moonypixel

━━ a/n: ahhhh i'm sorry i cannot let them be happy!! also, wrote this really fast and struggled a bit because i genuinely couldn't decide if it was just too fast paced or not, so i apologize if it seems rushed or if there are any mistakes editing wise that i missed!

[lemotmo]

Some of them clearly got the point of Tim's call-out.

Q. What did you make of Tim's interview? I realize the bulk was Lonestar but the fandom stuff was interestingly phrased. The fact that so many people involved with the show, and now the showrunner himself, are openly discussing how bad things are cannot be a good sign. I know we had some fans who were saying we could 'bully' Tim and the show into giving us more Tommy but I think that was a massive mistake in hindsight. I think certain people got carried away and went way too far. Weather their intentions were ever bad or not I just think some people took the bullying idea too far. I'm a little worried we may not see Tommy at all now.

A. The bullying idea was always going to be a massive mistake. Normally you can take Tim's interviews with a bit of 'lol, why is he so dramatic' because he's not immune to getting his feelings hurt, and using his interviews to tell people that. In this case though it was definitely a direct callout. I have been here from the beginning and the show has never experienced anything close to what they have experienced this off-season. It's one thing to root for a particular show ship it's another thing entirely to openly send, and openly encourage others, to send hate to the cast and creators of a show. Then those same fans dragged the lighting director, director of photography, show directors and professional media members who have covered the show for years into their bullying game as well. It was insane, pathetically immature behavior. At times it was also incredibly disturbing. And every single bit of it can be traced back to the cameo videos. The second the storyline they were paying to be told didn't match the storyline we were actually watching they revolted.

And unfortunately because I think Tim, and ABC, just didn't think they were anything worth paying attention to initially, he was allowed to do them way too long. The more he did the more obsessed with him that particular group of people became. This has nothing to do with 911. Those people aren't at all interested in 911. Their entire interest is Lou and Lou alone. It's a small group of people. A small sick group of people who created a bunch of separate accounts in order to appear to be more people than they actually are (and they were stupid enough to openly admit that is what they did). Then that small group of people got together and from every single one of their many accounts they attacked as a group. They started with Oliver. They pointed out that Oliver wasn't interacting with Lou or engaging with any of them, or B/T content, and decided, at least initially, that he was solely to blame for B/T not getting the attention they thought it deserved, again the Buck part they don't care about. They were upset that they weren't seeing more of Tommy and they blamed Oliver for that. Suddenly Oliver was being tagged in posts that were calling him unprofessional, immature, bratty, selfish, and because of course, homophobic (they're really not a bright group of people). However instead of taking their bait and engaging with them, Oliver, rightly, blocked them. Meaning they needed a new target. Briefly it became Tim because their moronic leader screenshot a message she sent him that he, stupidly, responded to. She took that and spun and ENTIRE relationship theory and spread it through her many accounts. Tim then admitted in another comment that he actually didn't know what she was talking about but didn't want to be rude by continuing to ignore her so he responded to her. He then said that was a mistake and he wouldn't be responding to anything else. And he hasn't (she should be very embarrassed by his interview today because he may as well have used her name). And the show also continued to not align with her/their theory and they got more upset. Then found a new target.

Throughout the season Oliver did what Oliver has always done. Oliver posted, liked and promoted Eddie/Buddie/Buckley Diaz family content. He has always done this. This was nothing new. But it infuriated Lou's fans and they turned their anger on Ryan. Suddenly Eddie was the worst character in the history of television. He was an abuser (to Buck especially), he was a user (of Buck especially). He was a terrible friend (to Buck especially). Depending on the day he was either a deadbeat dad or obsessed with his kid in an unhealthy way (they couldn't ever really decide which way to go on this one. That opinion was dependent on how the poster felt about Chris). When that attack didn't really get the attention they were begging for, they changed direction and made it personal. Post after post, that Ryan was always tagged in, calling him racist, a deadbeat dad, an asshole, unprofessional, manipulative and controlling of Oliver (wtf, god they really are a stupid group of people), a whore (I actually read that one myself, it was a trip), a terrible actor that only has a job because Tim thinks he's hot. And so on and so on. At first Tommy didn't kiss Eddie because Ryan is homophobic and refused to do the storyline, then Tim, very publicly, corrected that lie so Lou's fans had to pivot and said Lou actually refused to do the Eddie storyline because he knows Ryan isn't a good guy ( a special kind of crazy that makes me need to drink ). Then they sunk to their sickest, lowest, most pathetic, vile, disturbing, and inexcusable moment. Ryan did a podcast where he discussed his past mental health struggles and suicidal thoughts. They went into the comments on the podcast and told Ryan that they wish he had committed suicide. That if he had killed himself then Tommy could have his screen time and they wouldn't have to see Buck have scenes with Eddie. Not only did they leave those comments (the podcast has since deleted most of them, thankfully), they sent similar messages directly to Ryan on Instagram. Knowing he would see them. It was appalling and very, very disturbing. The cameo videos ended fairly shortly after. These people are sick. They get zero sympathy or understanding from me. It's a fucking television show. Tommy is not a real person. Ryan is a real person.

As for maybe not seeing Tommy at all, I would imagine conversations have certainly taken place. He was never sticking around permanently. The conversations most likely involved deciding if they needed him at all, and if they did, how many actual scenes did they need him for. I don't work on the show, but if they decided he wasn't necessary to the storyline, and they could get away with his stuff happening off screen I would imagine he's been dismissed. They probably decided they needed him at least for a few scenes though. Unless other things happened behind the scenes we're not aware of he will be around the first few episodes at least and then and probably no more. He can take his tiny army with him when he leaves. No one will miss them.

Okay, just ... yeah, all of this. It's crazy how these people did all of these horrible things in the name of... a ship? I mean, what?

I've been in fandom for a very long time and I have been shipping characters for a very long time, but I've never seen behaviour like this. Behaviour where people think they are justified to bully, harass and vilify the actors playing a character on a TV-show. To the point where they get blocked by the actors and crew.

I don't understand what would drive someone to do that? I genuinly don't.

These are the kind of people that need to put down their phones forever, go outside and touch all the grass they can touch. After that they should never watch 911 again. If you don't like something, just walk away. I have done that before. Shows don't always go where a fan wants it to go.

Look. I want Buddie. You all know that. I'm 99% certain that we're getting Buddie in season 8. But, if it turns out we won't, which is always a possibility since I don't know what Tim is cooking up, I will be disappointed, but I won't start spewing hatred all over the place. I will just take a step back and focus on other things in life. I'll keep shipping Buddie and read fanfiction. I'll be fine here in my Buddie corner of the Internet with my Buddie mutuals.

So yeah, this is insane behaviour to me. I truly don't get it.

Thanks Nonny for dropping this in my inbox!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting these anon OP updates instead of reblogging. Don't get mad at me. There is a reason for it and it's all done with consent from the OP. You can find out more about that here.

Remember, no hate in comments or reblogs. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of the anonymous OP’s posts, you can find all of their posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[luna-loveboop]

Wait...

It's November. It's November first. Yesterday was October 31st, so October is over. ...it's over. Is it over?

Inktober, artober, whumptober, flufftober, linktober, every tag ending with -tober that's been circulating for the past month... is it over? I don't know why it's just hit me but...

This matters. So I will try to get the message across, even though I'm not the best at it sometimes

Fanartists, fan writers, artists, fic writers, people making comics, every single one of you that has created art for the past month...

Thank you

This is my first October on tumblr. When I started seeing the "tober" tags, seeing the posts from artists with wips, saying they were going to make something every day to a prompt, making masterposts to update with each day, I thought "cool"

But every day this month, I have gotten on here and smiled.

And I don't mean smiled. I mean I smiled at least 20 times every time I got on the app because I saw all the art and fics. I got to see artists/writers connect stories through different day prompts. I saw people having the most brilliant ideas and creativity, flowing from their hands into their posts. I saw artists responding to continuous asks, telling them how amazing they are. I saw artists getting behind, and keeping going.

I saw Free. Beautiful. Emotional. Amazing. Original. Creative. Art.

Every day

I haven't committed to anything of this before, so I can't directly relate to what you guys were thinking and feeling. But I'm willing to guess; I think you probably enjoyed it, because most won't do such a huge project unless they enjoy it. I think you probably saw it as a challenge you were willing to fulfill, and an opportunity to grow and develop your skills.

... but I'm also willing to bet you did it for us. For people like me, who love art, but don't do this specific type, who are in fandoms, who love tracking and watching you art and sending you compliments, who take joy in your work. For the other artists (and writers!) who admire each others styles and love to learn from each other.

If anyone ever tries to tell me that humans are inherently evil again, I will strap them to a chair, pull up these posts and say look. Look at what these people did. Look me in the eyes and tell me these sorts of actions don't come from the most loving hearts. Tell me these people don't want to make others happy, that they aren't inherently good. And I will tell you you're wrong.

I have so much going on, yet somehow it slipped into my life that I was constantly looking at your art for the joy of it without me even noticing.

And how is it possible. That we have such a beautiful community of people here that we will share. And communicate. And exchange compliments. And literally do things and send asks solely for the purpose of making someone smile.

I'm almost crying by now. God I can't express it well enough! But I am so. So. Grateful

You guys brought me a month of joy! You gave headcanons, and art, and stories!

Even yesterday, Halloween, I was blown away. Because I had expected... I didn't expect anything. And then I log on and see people sending happy halloween asks, exchanging doodles of candy, and headcanons and gifs.

And some are still catching up to the schedule or whatever, and that's ok! But at the beginning of this post, when I was simply realizing it was November, I asked myself "is it over?"

Is it over?

... I don't think so. I've seen artists say they're going to continue and expand on a piece they made and especially liked this month. Some people are still continuing, catching up to a voluntary deadline. All those masterposts with your whump/fluff/link/ink tober art? I know many as well as myself will be going through, looking over your posts with smiles, catching up on some things they missed this month... it will continue in the people and artists I didn't know existed before, but now follow. In the skills and growth in creativity! In the community we've grown, and art you've made, and the art to come, at a normal rate like every other month, even if it's not October anymore!

But my artists, writers... thank you so much. I don't know if you guys know how valuable and amazing you are. How incredible it is that you exist! People say it's amazing we exist under a sky of such stars, but how incredible is it that you made a stranger on the internet smile every day! Your life is so. So. Valuable. I can't even express how grateful I am that you exist, that you somehow are selfless enough to share the most beautiful parts of yourself simply to create, and to create joy. Thank you so so much.

(And this applies to all artists, in any fandoms, not just mine. And I'm just as grateful to people who couldn't do something every day, or only one day! You still share your art, you're just as... incredible. You are incredible.)

Okay.

So I'm gonna do this, and if others want to do it in the reblogs that's great! I do not care at all about reblogging or likes, but I want to make the people that have brought me such joy some appreciation- I hope I can bring you even a smidgen of the light you have brought into my life. So I'm gonna tag all the artists/writers I know of/can think of that have done any sort of October challenge, all of you creators that have made me smile. If people wanna want to tag others in the reblogs or replies to spread love that's cool.

(Basically I don't know social customs or anything at all, so if you don't want me to tag or if I was supposed to do something different or something let me know I have no idea what I'm supposed to do)(if I like accidentally tagged someone who isn't an artist/writer or forgot someone I follow... sorry)

@skyward-floored @kikker-oma @adrift-in-thyme @blueskittlesart @zeldaseyebrows @smilesrobotlover @bahbahhh @soso-dedeck @lennsart @arecaceae175 @illcamp @breannasfluff @solarfire-art @26kabeuchi @cathianemelian @truffeart @scribbly-z-raid @uniquevoidflowers

To all the artists and writers out there: thank you so much!!! You are amazing and I'm glad you exist. Your life is precious, and you matter. Thank you so much for sharing your beauty with us, we love you too!!!!!

... yeah. Just want yall to feel loved... because you are. Again, thank you. Thank you so so much to my beautiful creators who create joy as well as art, who keep storytelling alive. Just... thank you.

:)

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Back home p.10

Hii guyss, here's part 10 of the story if you've missed part 9. If you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist.

The next morning, you find yourself sitting at a café with Kika, catching up over some coffee. As the conversation shifts, you decide to tell her about Charles’s invitation to the Grand Prix in Austin.

“So, uh… Charles invited me to the next race,” you say casually, trying to sound nonchalant.

Kika’s eyes widen with excitement. “Wait, what? That’s amazing!” she exclaims, practically bouncing in her seat. “You have to go!”

You laugh at her enthusiasm. “I don’t know, Kika… I have school, and I don’t want to be a bother. Plus, it’s Charles’s race. He’s got enough to focus on without me tagging along.”

Kika shakes her head, waving off your concerns. “Are you kidding? If he invited you, it means he wants you there. Trust me, you’re not a bother. And besides, how many chances do you get to travel with an F1 driver to a race like this? You need to go!”

Her words echo in your mind, and though you’re hesitant, you can’t deny how exciting it all sounds. “I guess I could ask him if he’s really sure,” you say, pulling out your phone.

You draft a quick message to Charles:

Hey, Charles. About your invite to Austin… Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother, especially since it’s such a big weekend for you.

You send it and wait, nerves bubbling in your stomach. Kika leans in, watching you with a grin on her face. “I bet he’ll respond in no time.”

Moments later, your phone buzzes, and you see Charles’s name flash on the screen:

Of course, I’m sure! I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you there. I could really use your support. It would mean a lot to me.

You feel a warmth spread through you as you read his response. His sincerity is clear, and you can’t help but smile. “He says he wants me there,” you say, showing Kika the message.

“See? I told you!” Kika beams. “You have to go.”

You hesitate for just a moment before typing your reply:

Okay, I’ll come with you to Austin.

Charles replies almost instantly, and you can feel his excitement through the screen: That’s great! I’m looking forward to it. It’s going to be fun, I promise.

With the decision made, you feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness about the trip. You put your phone away just as Kika gives you an encouraging smile. “You’re going to have the best time, trust me.”

Later that afternoon, you get a call from Arthur, and his familiar voice brings an instant smile to your face. “Hey, want to hang out today? I’ve got nothing going on.”

“Sure, I’d love to,” you reply. You agree to meet at his place, and before long, you’re lounging on his couch, chatting about your week.

Everything feels normal, easy—until you mention the trip to Austin.

“So… I’m going to the race with Charles next week,” you say cautiously, watching Arthur’s reaction.

He goes quiet for a moment, his jaw tightening slightly, though he tries to mask it. “Oh, are you?” he says, keeping his tone light, but you can tell something is bothering him.

You nod. “Yeah, he invited me, and I thought it would be fun. I haven’t traveled in a while, and it would be nice to support him.”

Arthur forces a smile, though you notice his hand grips the edge of the couch a little tighter. “Right. I mean, it’s a big race for him, so it makes sense he’d want you there.”

There’s something in his voice that makes you feel uneasy, and you can’t help but feel bad. Arthur has always been your best friend, and the last thing you want is for him to feel like you’re drifting away. “Arthur, are you okay? You seem… off.”

He exhales, leaning back against the couch, clearly trying to keep his frustration in check. “It’s just… I don’t know. I feel like Charles is always taking you away from me. It’s like he gets everything he wants, and now you’re spending more time with him.”

His words hit you hard, and your heart aches. You hadn’t realized Arthur felt this way, and the last thing you want is to hurt him. “Arthur, I’m so sorry,” you say softly, placing a hand on his arm. “You’re my best friend, and that’s never going to change. I’m not choosing him over you. It’s just… he invited me, and I thought it could be fun, but it doesn’t mean we’re not going to hang out.”

He looks at you, his expression softening slightly, though the hurt is still there. “I just don’t want to lose you.”

You shake your head, giving him a reassuring smile. “You’re not going to lose me. I promise. When I get back, we can spend as much time together as you want. We can have more movie nights, cook together, whatever you want.”

Arthur’s eyes soften, though you can tell he’s still not completely satisfied. But he nods, accepting your words. “Okay,” he says quietly. “I’ll hold you to that.”

You smile, feeling relieved that you’ve at least eased some of his concerns. But as the evening goes on, there’s still a lingering tension in the air—one that you can’t quite shake. You can only hope that things will go back to normal after the trip.

Part 11

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