#I have to catch myself from correcting it wrong

[red-erroring]

It almost feels like people type the wrong “your”/“you’re” on purpose. 80% (or higher!) of the time, it’s wrong. Statistically, it should be like 50/50 if people are guessing. But it seems either they have intentionally been taught wrong (by themselves or others) or just don’t care to check; it really seems like they choose the incorrect word on purpose. Not to sound like an english teacher but i die a little bit inside every time.

[roaringroa]

just sent in an assignment exactly 1:50 minutes before it was due oh my god i can feel the adrenaline rushing through my veins

[e-m-ma-lmfao]

Can you write something for Sephiroth(pre-nibelheim) or Astarion? Your work is absolutely fantastic btw I’m in love with it ❤️❤️❤️

Not So Subtle

pairing : sephiroth x female!reader

summary : you have a teenage girl level crush on him, that you and zack talk (very loudly) about when you think no one can hear. but he does.

a/n : this takes place pre-nibelheim so everyone is happy and well! in honour of ff7 rebirth :)

“Close your mouth or you’ll catch flies.” You snap your jaw shut, eyes moving to glare at the young, dark haired boy who has decided to break your daydream. 

“It wasn’t even open.” He plops down beside you, shoulder touching yours. 

“Mhm.. and you weren’t drooling over our superior.” 

“Your superior,” you correct, eyebrow lifted with pointed sarcasm. If you could stick your tongue out at him, without it seeming childish to everyone around you, you would.

“Last time I checked, you weren’t a first class soldier either,” He points out, amused. Your elbow makes contact with his arm, and his hand reaches to cover the area as he laughs.

Zack was younger than you, though he certainly never acted like there was an age gap. In his mind, you were the same age as him in some way or another. You had always trained together so you felt much closer in age even though you were at least 3 years older than him. At times, he felt like a younger brother to you.

Even more so when he found out you had a crush on the man he spent everyday training beside. Constant teasing, constant threats to spill your secrets, constant blackmail. You couldn’t even count the amount of times he had used your crush to his advantage on one hand. 

There was a time you had to put your foot down and tell him no more, cause it was wrong of course. But also mostly cause you were running out of money to buy his silence.

“Yeah but I'm older, closer to his age. So I don't have to talk to him like I'm below him, unlike some people.” 

“Can you even talk to him?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then why are you sitting here staring..?” 

“He’s training..” 

“Mhm.” The look on his face tells you he’s not convinced. Right now, it was the truth, Sephiroth was swinging his sword in the domed combat simulator, glass walls clear enough for you to see through. So the excuse of not being able to talk to him, out of fear of being sliced in half by his giant sword, was plausible. 

But any other time that you had sat staring at him, making no effort to speak to him, rendered that excuse inapplicable. 

“Shut it..” You push his shoulder with your elbow once more, and he snorts out a laugh. 

“I don’t get why you can’t just talk to him..” 

“Of course you don’t.. because you're obviously blind. Or you’ve been hit in the head one too many times in combat training.” You turn your gaze away from Zack to look back through the glass enclosing Sephiroth. 

His hair is tied up, hanging loosely against his back. It’s a rare sight, so you indulge yourself and stare a second longer than you should. It’s so relaxed, you think, compared to the seriousness of always having it pristinely down. There are stray hairs, flyaways, falling from the hair tie and hanging against his face. It’s unkempt, a nice contrast to his seemingly perfect lifestyle.

He swings his sword with calculated grace, a grace that you (or Zack for that matter) had yet to achieve. The control he held over his blade was impeccable, it never slipped or moved from his hold even when his hands were moving faster than his body could keep up with. Just another thing that had to be perfect in his life.

“How could I ever speak to him and not make a fool out of myself? For one, he’s first class, I'd totally ruin my chances of making first class if I said something totally outrageous. And knowing me, my mind would be so jumbled, I wouldn't even realize the words had left my mouth before he put me on some kind of ‘do not promote’ list.” 

“Oh so.. the only reason you won’t talk to him is because you're worried about making first class? Not.. I don’t know, maybe, the 12-year-old-girl-level crush you have on him.” Your hand slaps over his lips, eyes scanning around you. For the most part, no one looks at the two of you, and you figure the ones that are looking are doing so because of your hand covering Zacks blabbermouth. 

“Would you shut it?” Even with your hand covering his mouth, he manages to laugh at your widened eyes. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes are a dead giveaway of his amusement. You remove your hand with a pointed look, one that says ‘keep it down’ in a far more subtle way than a hand over his face. 

“You’re so lucky you’re younger than me.” 

“More like so lucky you don’t want to make your boyfriend angry. Besides, you know I’m stronger than you.” 

“Mhm..” You roll your eyes, and with a sigh, you turn back to face Sephiroth. He stands still now and you realize all of the practice dummies have been broken. From your position, he doesn't even seem to have broken a sweat, even though he’s been in there for over an hour. His sword lies on the ground, thrown without care. 

Even with Zack beside you, and the silent teasing that exudes from his body, your eyes remain trained on Sephiroth. You realize it’s childish, to stare and never approach, but the idea of even standing next to him is enough to intimidate you. 

He runs his hand over his back, pulling the hair tie from his hair, allowing it to fall against his shoulders once more. He turns, presumably to leave the combat simulated, and his eyes meet yours through the glass. You knew your staring wasn’t subtle, it had never been before, but you had never expected to get caught. You had never been caught. 

You turn your head away so fast that Zack almost flinches, probably thinking you were going to hit him again. 

“Jesus,” he looks at you with confusion, “What’s the problem?” 

“He saw me.” 

“What?” 

“He saw me! Through the glass! He totally caught me staring at him..” You stare at Zack with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, before you head falls into your lap in shame.

“Would you relax? I guarantee he doesn’t care or he didn’t even see you. Maybe he was just looking at his reflection.”

You look back towards Sephiroth to see him leaving through the doors of the dome, and then you turn back to Zack with a pitiful whine. 

“This is so pathetic…” 

“I agree,” he smiles when you shoot him a glare, “Just talk to him.” 

“Talk to who?” A deep voice sounds from beside you, higher up than where you sit. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stick up, and Zack's expression is enough to confirm your suspicion about who stands next to you. 

You turn your head to face Sephiroth, and he stares at you expectantly. You think you catch the slightest smirk building on the corner of his lips, but you also think you might just be trying to make yourself feel better. Standing, nowhere close to his height, you hold your hands up. Zack takes this as his sign to stand too. 

“Nobody! Angeal!” You fumble out words, trying to throw out a name before he grows suspicious. 

“Well which is it, nobody? or Angeal?” 

“Angeal. Yeah! Angeal, so.. um.. I should probably go find him.” 

“It just so happens that I have to find Angeal too, allow me to join you.” 

You want to throw the nearest chair at Zack, curse him for speaking so loudly. And you curse yourself for not thinking of an excuse in a reasonable time frame, so you just nod, and excuse yourself from Zack. 

He gives you a pitiful smile, and when you turn to look behind you for support one last time as you walk away he gives you a thumbs up. His face contradicts his hands, and he seems like he’s in a far less teasing mood. 

“Whatever you have to say to him, it must be important.” 

“Hm?” You tilt your head up and to the side to look at Sephiroth, you’ve been walking together for a few minutes now, mostly silently. 

“You're walking fast.” You shrug your shoulders and continue walking. 

At least until your steps are interrupted by him stepping in front of you. 

“Is there a problem?”

“What? Of course not!” He practically glares down at you, arms crossed over his muscular chest. You can see the outline of his defined chest muscles through the straps of his top. And you realize you're practically drooling over him, right in front of him so you force your eyes to meet his once more. But his glare is replaced by a smirk, and amusement in his eyes. 

“I see now..” 

“See what?” 

“Really? Do you think you’re subtle?” Your face flushes and once again you want the floor to open up and consume you whole, but you're stuck here. 

“I don’t know what you're talking about.” Step back, you scream at yourself, but he moves closer and it’s impossible to move your feet. They feel like lead underneath you, not even giving way to a small shuffle backwards.

“No?” His hand reaches up to rest on your cheek, it's gentle, far gentler than you would’ve expected. But the way his fingers tense against your skin has you feeling fuzzy, “You think I don’t notice the way you stare? Hm?” 

He stares at you, thumb moving to the other side of your chin, holding your face in his hand. He maneuvers your face, moving it however he likes. You realize he’s examining the flush in your cheeks, the way your lips part like you want to say something. His tongue gives a humiliating click when your lips close, and the words are lost. 

“I hear you, when you talk to Zack,” he stops his movement, stilling your face to look directly at him, “You’ve never been a quiet girl. Why are you so quiet now?” 

When you don’t respond his eyebrows scrunch, its subtle and almost missable because it’s gone in seconds. He’s not satisfied by your silence.

Sephiroth bends his shoulders, moving closer to your face, “Although, I suppose you’ve never been very talkative around me.” He moves closer still, swerving his nose to the side of your face until he’s able to speak in your ear, “That’s not very nice. You might hurt my feelings if you keep ignoring me.” 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble out meekly, you're honestly not even sure it’s audible at first but he laughs quietly, breath fanning on your ear. His other hand, the one that doesn’t hold your face, reaches up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear before he pulls away. The breath that leaves your body is almost embarrassing. 

“What’re you sorry for, hm?” He stares expectantly down at you, eyes never leaving yours. 

“F…for ignoring you.”

“So you ignore me?” 

“No!”

“So you’re lying?” You shake your head as much as you can within the hold of his fingers, “Then what are you sorry for?” 

“For not talking to you.” 

“And why don’t you talk to me, I'm sure you know it’s rude to stare and never speak to someone.”

“Because..” His grip loosens, hand moving back to your cheek, thumb resting on your cheek bone. 

“Because why? Cmon use your voice, the one you use to talk about me with Zack.” 

You stare up at him pitifully, and the way words fumble from your mouth has you wanting to throw up, “Because I have this stupid crush on you, and I can't talk to you without getting nervous. I know it’s stupid and I should have told you sooner so you could reject me and I could move on and I never meant to offend you or-”

You hadn’t realized he had gotten so close until his nose touches yours, top lip brushing against yours as he tips your chin up towards him. Your words fall flat on your tongue when you meet his eyes, or rather when you see his eyes that are focused on your lips. 

“Offend me.. that’s sweet..” He’s so close to you, that every word has his lips brushing against your own again and again. 

“Sephiroth..?” You suppress the urge to move the tiniest bit forward so your lips can fully meet his. And you're sure your face is impossibly red. 

“You should’ve told me about this ‘stupid’ crush sooner, such a foolish girl. May I?” You're confused, what is he asking for? His eyes flicker up to yours before moving back to your lips. When you realize what he means you nod your head perhaps too eagerly. 

Slowly, to tease, his lips press against yours, palm pressing into the skin of yours to keep you in place. Eyes fluttering closed, your hands find his chest, silently screaming about the position you’ve found yourself in.

His lips overpower yours in every regard, moving languidly against you. His other hand reaches up to the free side of your face, fingers tickling the skin on your neck and thumb resting on your jaw. 

When he pulls away you can only look at him with half lidded eyes, dazed. 

Al he does is chuckle, rubbing your cheek with his thumb and patting your head. One hand holds the back of your head, leaning down to kiss your temple, before stepping behind you, “Don’t be so shy from now on. Maybe we’ll end up here again.”

His steps echo through the empty hall as he walks away.

“Wait… wait.. I thought you had to go see Angeal?” You turn, taking one step in his direction, then stopping yourself in your tracks hesitantly. 

“I didn’t. And I know you didn’t either.” He only turns his cheek towards you to speak and then continues on down the hallway, tall and brooding.

[lostdreamr-blog1]

Pinky Promise

Pinky Promise 2

Part 3

Part 4

Summary: Jake gets a call in the middle of the night asking for a ride home. But it’s who is asking that makes him worried.

Word count: 2k

A/N: Another request knocked out! Currently working on part 2 of Beautiful Stranger and might have plans for continuing this one depending on if you all like it. Thank you so much for reading! -C

You were a little on the tipsy side as you squinted at your phone trying to make out the numbers on it. With them moving as much as they were, it was near impossible to type in a correct phone number. Instead, you opened your contacts and scrolled down to your brother’s name.

The smart thing to do would be to call him for a ride, but the more drunk side of you could only think about the nagging you would get on the way home and probably the month following. So, you scrolled up and down your contacts deciding on who would be the lucky winner to receive a call at 1 in the morning.

Jake groaned as he heard his phone going off. He blindly reached for it and squinted at the bright screen, trying to decipher who the hell would be calling at this hour. He had to be up in a few hours to get ready for another day of trying to get through the near impossible assignment, so unless it was an emergency, he was ignoring it.

The number that flashed on his screen wasn’t one he had seen before. He almost wrote it off as a wrong number or another spam call, but something told him to answer it. The area code was one he knew and a call this late on a Saturday might mean something is going on. So, instead of rolling over and enjoying the few hours of sleep he had left, he answered the mystery number.

“Seresin.”

“Oh shit! That’s the Jake that’s in this phone? Why would he put that number in here?” The voice was female and sounded somewhat familiar but was clearly drunk.

“Sorry to disappoint. Who is this?” Jake was kicking himself for answering it now, having the person insult him within two seconds of talking.

“Ah. Look, you have to promise not to tell my brother anything. Like pinkly swear and everything.” Jake was too tired to entertain childish requests, but the first part of the statement finally sunk in. The only one on the team who had a sister near base was Bradley. Fuck.

“Y/N? Is that you?” He needed the confirmation before freaking out. What did she do that warranted keeping her brother in the dark?

“I am not answering that question until you promise me.” He sat up in bed, turning on the lamp next to him. There was no way this wasn’t her.

“Alright. I promise I won’t tell him right now. Can you tell me what’s going on?” He was hoping she was too drunk to catch how he promised.

“Fine. I’m at this bar with my friend and I played wingman a little too well and she left with this guy. I mean good for her. She just got over this really bad breakup and needed to get laid.” Jake had gotten out of bed and put the phone on speaker as he got dressed. Something told him he was going to have to pick you up from somewhere. That’s if you managed to stop getting sidetracked.

“Anyway, I have this thing about not liking to get in Ubers by myself and it’s a long ass walk back to my apartment.” Jake had grabbed his keys at this point and was walking out the door.

“Where are you? I’m on my way.” He turned on his truck and waited for a response.

“Shoot. Well, we started at one place and now this is place three. No place four. You know what, let me ask because I have no idea.” Jake sighed and shook his head. He had heard stories from Bradley about his younger sister and how reckless you were. Or at least that’s the way he described you. He always kept you on a tight leash, trying his hardest to keep you out of trouble.

But Jake thought you just wanted to have some fun. One of his sisters went through a phase like this and it was best to keep a close eye on them but never push them. For reasons like this.

You told him the name of the bar and he was on his way. “I’ll be there in about 15 minutes. Are you okay to wait inside for me?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I need to finish this water anyway.” Jake told you to call if something came up but he shouldn’t be long.

It wasn’t but 5 minutes later his phone started ringing again. He saved your number as Baby Bradshaw, knowing that this probably wouldn’t be the last time you called him.

“Yes ma’am?”

“Are you close?” As casual as you tried to sound, Jake could hear a slight bit of urgency.

“Five minutes away. Everything alright?” The hesitation that followed his question told him everything he needed to know. But he waited for your response before he pushed the issue further.

“Umm, it’s probably nothing. Just this guy by the bar keeps giving me this look and it’s making me feel a bit uncomfortable. But I’m also drunk and a tiny bit paranoid.” Jake pushed the accelerator down a bit further, breaking a few laws in order to get to you faster. He wasn't going to be blamed for getting the youngest Bradshaw in trouble.

“I’ve always been told to listen to your gut.” He heard the hum on the other end of the line as he blew through a red light.

“My gut is telling me they want tacos.” Jake couldn’t stop the laugh that came out.

“We can get you tacos on the way home, sweetheart. Now do me a favor and stand where a lot of people can see you. People like security or a bouncer. Can you do that for me?” He heard you hum again.

“Slight problem. He is following me now.” Jake’s heart started to beat faster and knew he needed to get there now.

“Shit. What did Bradley say. Thumb out, use your knuckles.” He shook his head trying to figure out what the hell you were saying. But it clicked a second too late.

“No don’t-“ He heard commotion on the other line and parked his truck right outside the bar. Flying out the door, he nearly ran into you as you were standing by the entrance with a bouncer blocking a guy with blood running from his nose from getting close to you.

Jake grabbed you before you could get around the bouncer and pulled you outside. “I told you to stay the hell away from me, you creep!” You were yelling at the guy all the way outside, letting him know you weren’t to be messed with. He wanted to go back in there and show the guy what happens when you mess with innocent people, but he knew leaving your side wouldn’t be for the best.

When the two of you were next to his truck, Jake let go and looked you over. Your face had a red tint to it from what he assumed had just happened, but besides that you looked to be in one piece. That was until he saw your eyes start to water.

He put a hand under your chin and lifted your head up. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

You sniffed a few times and wiped the tear that managed to escape. “Bradley didn’t say how much it hurts to hit someone.”

Jake bit back a smile and looked down at your hand. While it was a bit red and would surely bruise tomorrow, it didn’t look too bad.

“He probably didn’t think you would ever have to do that. Why don’t we get you back home and you can tell me what happened.” He watched you nod your head and opened his passenger door for you, closing it when you were in.

He waited a few minutes after you were on the road before asking questions. “Want to tell me why you called me instead of your brother?”

You shook your head at the question. “Have you met my brother? It would be nonstop nagging for God knows how long. Anyone else seemed like the better option.” You paused as you remembered exactly who you were with.

“I will say I didn’t expect him to put your name in my phone. He seems to have a strong dislike for you.” Jake smirked at what you had said and shrugged his shoulders.

“He probably knew I had sisters and would do anything to make sure they were alright. Regardless on who they were related to.” You thought this over and nodded your head. It wasn’t long until the next question came.

“What happened at the bar?” You felt his eyes on you and knew he was more concerned than curious.

“The guy I told you was giving me weird looks ended up following me to the door. He stopped me and tried to grab my hand and even though I pulled it away, he kept coming at me. I don’t know, I guess I just felt like I needed to do something to stop him.” You missed the way Jake’s hands tightened on the steering wheel or the clench in his jaw.

“He was lucky I was 30 seconds behind, or he would’ve gotten more than a broken nose.” You looked over and saw how serious he was. A look your brother wore all too often.

“How long until you tell bird boy what happened?” Jakes eyes caught yours and you saw the conflict in them.

“If I was him, I would want to know something happened to my sister. But I will at least drop you off before I call him. Keep your phone on silent and say you fell asleep. That way you can push it off until he gets off tomorrow.” He heard your sigh but that was the end of that.

It was silent in the car until he heard you say, “I’m not as stupid as my brother makes me out to be.” Stupid was never a word he would have used to describe you. A little carefree maybe, but you knew what you were doing.

“I see someone who wants to have a little fun in their life while they can. Nothing wrong with that.” He glanced over to you to see you playing with your injured hand.

“You’re not as bad as they make you out to be either. Besides my brother, not many people would come and get me when they have to be up soon.” Jake held back a wince when he saw the time. A coffee run in the morning would be needed. Maybe he could talk Natasha into picking him up some from that place she always went to.

He pulled into your apartment complex and parked as close to your building as he could.

“Hey, sweetheart. You can call me anytime you need help, okay? I know your brother and I are not on great terms, but I know he would help me out when family is involved.” You gave him a small smile and thanked him for the ride.

He waited until you closed the door before he backed out of the parking lot, trying to figure out what he was going to say to Bradley. It was nearing 2am and calling him was oit of the question. So, he sent a simple text.

Hey man. Your sister called a random number in her contacts tonight and didn’t realize it was me. She needed a safe ride home and that exactly what I did. We can talk about it more at base, but wanted to let you know she is safe. -Hangman

He went to put his phone down when a text popped up. He prayed Bradley wasn’t awake, wanting to push the rest of that conversation off. But instead, it was baby Bradshaw with the text You never got me tacos.

Jake laughed out loud replying that he owes you some in the near future. With a spitfire attitude that you had, Jake saw the two of you becoming good friends. That’s if Bradley didn’t lock you up after tonight’s events.

A/N: Not too sure how I felt about this one but thinking about doing a Jake and Y/N friend series. Thoughts? Likes or dislikes? Thank you for reading!

Tag List: @rosiahills22 @sunlitsunflowers @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @luckyladycreator2 @atarmychick007 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @topguncultleader @alilstressyandlotdepressy @avengers-fixation @chaoticcassidy

[woniedarlin]

How to Get a Tsundere’s Heart: Yang Jungwon

pairing: Jungwon x tsundere! reader

synopsis: You always believed that Jungwon's actions towards you were merely a way to get a rise out of you and stir up drama. You had no idea that he was deeply in love with you and willing to go to any lengths to capture your love. Despite it being increasingly clear to those around you that he was head over heels for you, you remained stubborn in your denial and refused to let down your guard.

warnings: Jungwon being a delulu 24/7, pouts and whines a lott, you are just painfully mean and so oblivious 😭, mentions of injuries, kissing, cussing

note: Hey darlings!! Wishing you all a wonderful day ahead. Happy reading! 💋

caution: This story contains scenes and situations that may be endearing, and heartwarming and potentially cause readers to experience unexpected bouts of affection and delusional behavior toward their crushes. Read responsibly!

permanent taglist: @sol3chu

You hated Jungwon for absolutely no reason... well, actually, for a dumb reason. Many of your classmates looked at Jungwon with empathy because the poor boy had done nothing to deserve your hatred. He was deeply and desperately in love with you.

Like, completely whipped.

That boy would give you heart eyes despite the glares you threw his way. Whenever he tried to help you with homework, you assumed he thought you were incapable. To put it bluntly, you were oblivious to his feelings. You always assumed he just liked to pick on you to get a reaction, but in reality, it was the opposite. No matter how many glares or snarky remarks you hurled at him, Jungwon remained smitten. It was almost amusing and concerning.

Today, during lunch break, you were sitting alone while struggling with your math assignment. Furrowing your eyebrows as you gripped the pen in your hand, completely frustrated with the problems given. Jungwon approached, his eyes soft and full of adoration.

“Hey, need some help?” he asked gently.

You lifted your head, scoffing as you glared at him. “Are you implying that I can’t solve these problems myself? I’m perfectly capable. I’m not an idiot.”

He chuckled softly, not a bit offended by your remark. “Right, of course,” he replied casually taking a seat beside you. “I’m just making sure. You’re glaring too hard at that assignment, that’s for sure.”

He then took a glance at the paper, immediately noticing the wrong answers.

"You're struggling," he pointed out. "It's okay to ask for help, y'know."

“I don’t need your help,” you snapped back.

He laughed a little before looking at you with heart eyes, already expecting a snide response like that from you. But it didn’t bother him, no. He loved it. He couldn’t help but find it attractive, which was one of the reasons why he was so whipped for you.

"Oh? Is that so?" he asked, resting his chin against his palm. "I think you do." He gently slid the paper toward himself, circling your wrong answers. He then wrote the correct answers below each question.

"Here."

You examined the answers he wrote, realizing that they were correct but your pride was too high to admit that.

“Whatever. I could have solved this with more time. Thanks for nothing.” You stood up, grabbing your things before walking away.

He wanted to pinch your cheeks for looking like a defiant, sassy kitten. But he just watched with goo-goo eyes as you walked away. He looked back at your seat, noticing that you left some of your things on the table. Deciding to be a good person—or just finding an excuse to see you again—he grabbed the items before going after you.

“Hey, you dropped these!” he called out, catching up to you.

You glared at him and snatched your things. “Tsk, whatever.”

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling, because gosh, you looked adorable trying to intimidate him despite your height. You looked like an angry and adorable cat whenever you glared at him. The urge to just put you in his pocket, bring you home, and pamper you was overwhelming.

He gently wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “You do know that I’m always right here to help, right?” he said softly, his eyes full of love. “Always.”

“Don’t touch me,” you said, thinking he was doing this to irritate you. You swatted his arm away.

His heart fluttered once more, noticing the way you swatted his arm. Oh, how he loved it. He continued to walk behind you, despite your attempts to get away from him.

“You’re so stubborn, I swear,” he muttered under his breath. Your attitude was so cute to him.

“Such a wife material,” he said to himself with a dreamy look. Oh boy…

💜

You were sitting in your final class of the day, zoning out and counting down the minutes until you could finally escape. You stole glances at the clock, desperate to go home and put an end to your uneventful day. Suddenly, you noticed Jungwon staring at you from the back of the classroom, the same look of contempt he had given you every single day. You were sick of his constant ‘’intimidation’’ tactics, always trying to rattle you and make you uncomfortable.

“What is he doing? Is he trying to intimidate me again?” you thought, feeling a surge of irritation. You then locked eyes with him and stared back. Glaring at him in full of rage.

Jungwon was caught off guard by your stare, a faint pink blush spreading across his cheeks. He was completely taken aback by you as if he had never seen a woman staring back at him with such intensity. Jungwon continued to stare right at you, his eyes filled with awe.

"My wife is finally noticing me," Jungwon thought, a smile playing on his lips. He had never felt this way before, feeling a deep contentment.

But you, on the other hand, were furious. You saw his stare as nothing more than a mockery.

“What the hell is he doing?” you wondered, your irritation growing. You glared at him, feeling a mix of confusion and rage.

After class, you stalked over to him, your bag clenched tightly in your hands. As soon as you locked eyes with him, you spat out a string of angry words.

“What do you want, huh? Are you planning something?” you said with a sharp tone.

But to Jungwon, he couldn’t hear every single word your pretty mouth was saying. Blushing, he continued to look at you with the same goo-goo eyes.

A scene played in his mind, where he was at the altar with you, saying your vows. He then told you, with a dreamy tone. “I do...”

‘’He does? So he is planning something...’’ you thought

As soon as he felt himself slip into the comforting embrace of his fantasies, your cruel words shattered the illusion. You scowled at him, the hatred in your eyes showing.

You scowled at him. “Oh, game on!” you then walked out of the classroom with so much hatred.

Though Jungwon remained standing, with a dreamy smile, giggling. “Ah... she wants me...”

💜

Weeks later, just like any other day in school, everything seemed pretty normal. It was after classes and Jungwon was planning to go home. He saw you while he was walking in the hallways. His eyes softened and he started walking towards you, just wanting to know how your day had been in class. But then a student ran and accidentally bumped into you.

Jungwon saw that you were about to fall.

His eyes widened as he saw you teetering. “Oh no! My wife needs me,” he thought to himself.

Without sparing another second, he rushed towards you. He immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you against his chest. One of his arms stayed around your waist while the other one moved upwards to cradle the back of your head, preventing you from accidentally bumping against the wall or worse, the floor.

“You okay?” he asked with a concerned tone.

You looked shocked and stared at him, feeling your ears grow hot. Seeing Jungwon up close, you realized just how handsome his features were—his soft eyes, strong jawline, and the warmth in his gaze—before the situation fully hit you.

What in the K-drama is this?

He held you protectively. All thoughts about how you looked so pretty in his arms were already filling his mind. He gently pulled away a little and took a good look at you, his eyes searching for any signs of injuries. But he felt relieved to notice that you were unharmed.

“Are you okay?” he asked again softly, his touch lingering as his eyes continued to look at you with concern.

You then realized the situation and immediately scowled, pushing him away. “I’m fine. Don’t touch me.”

As soon as you pulled away, he felt like whining because he wanted you to stay in his arms for a little bit longer. That felt too short. He wanted to hold you longer and closer.

He sighed. The fact that you immediately scowled at him after he showed concern was something he found adorable and endearing. Oh…he just couldn’t wait to put a ring on your finger. But well, he would take his time.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” he pouted.

You rolled your eyes, thinking he was just doing it to irritate you as always before walking away.

He pouted more, following after you as you walked away. He was like a duckling following its mama. How adorable. He still had a pout on his face as he called out to you.

“Come on! I was only worried!” he said while following you. “Please come back!”

You stopped and turned around. “Alright, fine. Thanks for saving my life,” you said with a sarcastic tone. “Happy now?”

His pout was immediately replaced with a smirk. Damn it...

He knew you were mocking him, yet he still found it cute. Seriously, he loved every attitude coming out from you… even the mocking ones because hell, they were cute.

He stopped too. Just the thought of you being sarcastic got him going.

“Yes, I’m happy that you’re unharmed,” he responded sincerely, his gaze full of love as he looked at you.

Silence…

“Bye,” you bluntly said before walking away immediately, just wanting to get rid of him.

He pouted again, feeling slightly upset that you were leaving. But he couldn’t do anything about it because you were just so damn stubborn, plus he loved that side of you so really he couldn’t do anything.

“Hmp, why is she always walking away so quickly?” he mumbled, not really complaining and just admiring your pretty figure. He then muttered under his breath, “So cute... I’ll put a ring on that finger anyways.”

💜

That night when you got home, you changed into your pajamas and lay on your bed, staring up at the ceiling. Your cheeks were burning as you replayed the events of the day in your mind. “No… no… there’s no way. Not that guy!” you said, patting both your hands on your cheeks in disbelief.

Your mind kept replaying what happened at school, each memory making you groan in frustration. You grabbed your pillow and pressed it against your face, screaming into it to release your pent-up emotions.

Unfortunately, your mom heard the muffled scream from next door. You heard her footsteps quickly approaching and the door swung open, revealing your worried mother. “Sweetheart, are you alright? Did something happen?”

“Nothing, Mom. I’m fine... I’m fine,” you replied, your eyes softening with guilt. You noticed she had gotten up from her sleep and felt bad for waking her.

But because your cheeks were flushed, your mom knew you too well. Her drowsy look turned into a full-blown tease. “Oh… is it about a boy? Tell me everything.” You knew your mom loved good gossip.

“Not a boy. Definitely not. One hundred percent,” you lied through your teeth, rolling your eyes. You stood up and gently placed your hands on her shoulders, turning her around and guiding her back towards her room. “Just sleep, Mom. I’m fine..I love you, hm? Good night.” You then closed her door behind her.

You sighed and rested your back against the door, closing your eyes.

“Damn you, Yang Jungwon.”

💜

Time passed, and it was finally the day of the school trip to a camp. You found yourself on the bus, scanning the seats to find your friend to sit next to.

Jungwon was also on the bus, but unlike others, he wasn’t searching for his friends. His eyes were fixed on you, observing as you looked around for someone.

He couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath at your slight pout when you couldn’t find your friend. It should be illegal how cute you were. Sitting in the middle row with a backpack on the seat beside him, he knew it might be seen as a pushy move, but he couldn’t resist.

As you walked past him, he spoke up as if he had just noticed you. “Hey, are you looking for someone?” he asked innocently.

Your eyes hardened as you looked at him. “Yeri. Have you seen her?”

His heart skipped a beat as your gaze met his. Why did you have to do this and make him fall even more? But as usual, he remained composed, showing no sign of weakness—well, mostly.

Glancing around the bus, he shook his head. “Nah, haven’t seen her here. Probably on a different bus,” he replied casually, gesturing for you to take a seat. Taking off his bag that was on the seat. “You can sit beside me for now. You shouldn’t stay standing.”

Silence...

“No.”

Well… that rejection was expected, but it didn’t stop him from pushing his luck.

“What do you mean no? I’m just suggesting the best possible thing right now,” he replied, still gesturing for you to sit beside him.

“Oh, come on, just sit. You’re going to get tired from standing,” he said calmly. “Or do you want me to pick you up and sit you down myself?”

You scowled at him, glancing around once more to see the seats were full. Having no choice, you sat down next to him.

He celebrated internally that you were now beside him, but he kept his composure. Sure, you were classmates and saw each other often but having you sit next to him felt like heaven. He stole a glance at you, admiring your features once more. The urge to kiss your head was almost overwhelming.

As the bus rolled along, you struggled to sleep, taking off your headphones in frustration.

Jungwon noticed your discomfort as you shifted and fidgeted in your seat. It broke his heart to see you struggle, and he debated whether to speak up.

“You can rest on my shoulder if you’d like,” he offered.

you then replied curtly, “I don’t need it,”

He sighed inwardly. Damn, you were so stubborn. He wasn’t sure if he was frustrated or more smitten because of your attitude. But we all know the answer to that one,

“But you’re struggling to sleep. Your eyes are wide open,” he pointed out, his voice tinged with concern while maintaining a calm tone.

“Just rest on my shoulder. It’s not a bother.” He gently put his palm on your cheek to guide your head to his shoulder. His shoulders were broad and surprisingly comfortable.

A soft smile formed on his lips as he felt your head settle against his shoulder. It took all his self-control not to squeal with excitement. How could you be so stubborn yet so adorable at the same time? It was a unique combination that he found irresistibly attractive.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him, and started to rub your arm affectionately as you rested.

He couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of the ride. His dimples deepened with joy.

💜

The bus stop was somewhat both a blessing and a curse for Jungwon. He had been enjoying having your head on his shoulder and being able to hold you close. However, the ride had to end eventually and that meant you would have to wake up.

He gently shook your shoulder. “Hey, we’re here. Wake up, pretty,” he said softly, smiling warmly at you.

You groaned a little, lifting your head. Already..? “We’re here?”

He chuckled softly at your groan, finding your sleepy voice utterly adorable. Without hesitation, he pulled you closer by your shoulder as you stirred.

“Yeah, we’ve arrived at the camp,” he replied gently, still rubbing your shoulder with his palm. He brushed your hair away from your sleepy face with his other hand, unable to resist how precious and pretty you looked at this moment.

You nodded and gathered your things, yawning as you exited the bus.

Watching you wake up with a yawn and move sluggishly was so endearing to Jungwon. He thought of you like a little sleepy kitten. He kept his hand on your shoulder as he guided you off the bus.

Walking beside you, he observed as you continued to rub your sleepy eyes. “Are you still sleepy?” he asked softly.

You yawned again, sarcasm still evident. “Obviously.”

You were undeniably adorable when you were sleepy, and Jungwon’s heart fluttered at the sight of you. He then gently caressed your cheek.

“You’re so cute when you’re sleepy,” he said softly as the two of you began walking towards the campsite.

This day felt like the best day of his life, and he knew he would cherish these memories forever.

💜

It was night. The campfire was set and students were eating. Jungwon and Ni-ki sat together at the table, but Jungwon’s attention was elsewhere. His eyes kept drifting towards you, unable to resist stealing glances despite trying to appear nonchalant. Ni-ki couldn’t help but notice his friend’s distracted demeanor and decided to tease him about it.

“Dude, you’re not even trying to hide it,” Ni-ki whispered with a grin, nudging Jungwon playfully.

Jungwon turned to him, cheeks slightly flushed with embarrassment. “I’m not being obvious,” he muttered, though he knew Ni-ki had caught him red-handed.

Ni-ki snickered at his friend’s flushed and embarrassed expression.

“Yeah, you totally weren’t just now. Of course,” he responded sarcastically, smirking. “The girl literally hates your guts, but you’re still whipped. More whipped than a whipped cream,”

Jungwon sighed, feeling both defensive and bashful. “She doesn’t hate me,” he insisted quietly, though the evidence seemed stacked against him.

Ni-ki raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Oh really?” he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Ignoring you and calling you annoying isn’t exactly a sign of love, my friend.”

Jungwon frowned slightly, but deep down, he couldn’t deny the truth in Ni-ki’s words. “She’s just… hard to read,” he mumbled, crossing his arms defensively.

Ni-ki smirked knowingly. “Sure, keep telling yourself that,” he teased. “But let’s be real, she’s got you wrapped around her finger.”

Jungwon huffed in frustration, realizing how obvious his feelings must be to everyone around him. “Can we just drop it?” he muttered, trying to steer the conversation away from his love life.

Ni-ki chuckled softly, enjoying his friend’s flustered reaction. “Alright, alright,”

But then...

His eyes fixated on you once more, his expression darkening as he noticed a male student assisting you with food. A wave of jealousy washed over him at the sight, wondering if the student was flirting with you.

Ni-ki followed his line of sight and saw you being helped by the male student. He then chuckled and elbowed his friend. “‘Looks like someone's feeling jealous and territorial," he teased.

His frown deepened as he felt Ni-ki’s elbow on his side, the jealousy only increasing. He couldn't believe how territorial he was getting over someone he wasn't even dating yet.

He continued watching you and the student, his expression dark and filled with jealousy. Ni-ki couldn't miss the obvious signs of his friend's envy.

"Relax, man. It's probably nothing," Ni-ki said, attempting to pacify him.

He scoffed loudly, unable to contain his jealousy. Clenching his fists, he muttered through gritted teeth, "No, it's not nothing. I saw the way he looked at her. He's flirting." His eyes remained fixed on you, wishing he were the one helping.

Ni-ki rolled his eyes at his friend's intensity. "Even if he is, she doesn't seem interested," he reasoned calmly.

"Whatever. I'm going over there. I should be the one helping her, not him. My wife needs me," Jungwon declared, standing abruptly.

Ni-ki sighed, resigning himself to his friend's stubbornness. "You know she might reject you too, right?" he pointed out, though he knew it was futile.

Ignoring Ni-ki's words, Jungwon shook his head determinedly. Calling you his wife? He was definitely smitten.

Rolling his eyes with a scoff, he brushed off Ni-ki’s comment. He didn't care if you rejected him; he was going to help you regardless.

"That won't stop me," he retorted, striding purposefully towards you. His gaze remained dark and his heart filled with jealousy, resenting the student's ‘flirtatious’ behavior.

Then, in a bizarre turn of events, Jungwon abruptly snatched your plate away, hissing at the bewildered student- wait..hissing? Like a damn cat? the fuck...

The student raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by Jungwon's attitude. What was happening?

"Um, okay then?" the student muttered, retreating to his seat while thoroughly confused.

Jungwon didn't feel an ounce of shame for his jealous outburst. He seemed rather pleased with himself. Rolling his eyes at the student's retreat, he turned his softened gaze back to you. "Let me help you," he said gently.

You glared at him. Also weirded out by the situation. "I don't need your help. You do know that, right?"

He wasn't intimidated; in fact, he smiled, finding your glare rather cute. "Of course, I know you can handle it yourself. But let me help you," he replied, his smile suggesting he wasn't giving you a choice, even though technically he wasn't. He then decided to be a smartass to you.

"You're too sleepy to do it right now anyway. Let me," he insisted, placing food on your plate, mimicking the boy's actions.

"I'm not sleepy," you protested, watching him closely.

"Uh-huh, sure you aren't," he retorted, unconvinced. He glanced at you, noticing your struggle to keep your eyes open.

His smile widened. "Your eyes say otherwise, pretty girl."

After filling your plate, he guided you to sit down and then grabbed a spoonful of food, bringing it towards you. "Ahh."

"No, I can handle it myself. You are acting as if I don’t have hands to feed for myself," you leaned away, scowling.

He huffed, finding your scowl adorable. "Gosh, why do you have to be so cute and precious when you're annoyed?" He almost chuckled, scooting towards you despite your resistance, spoon still in hand.

"I know you can, pretty. Let me do it for you. Now, open your mouth."

You rolled your eyes, acknowledging his stubbornness before opening your mouth.

He smiled triumphantly as you gave in, unable to resist him. Honestly, he was just being a stubborn bastard and was being purposely a tease, but he wanted to see how far he could push his luck with you. “There you go. Such a good girl."

‘’What am I? A damn dog?’’ you thought to yourself. Internally rolling your eyes.

He fed you the spoonful, watching you chew with a smug yet pleased expression. He couldn't help feeling a bit proud of himself. That bastard.

You noticed he was feeding you more than himself, and despite your pride and initial irritation, you felt kinda bad so you roasted a marshmallow and offered it to him.

"Just eat it," you said sharply.

He looked at the marshmallow in surprise, then at you. He was speechless and a bit flattered. Without hesitation, he opened his mouth and bit into it, enjoying the sweet treat and the gesture.

"That's my wifey right here," he thought to himself, feeling warm inside. He swallowed, smiling warmly at you, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

"Thank you," he murmured, gazing at you affectionately.

"Come on, let me feed you this time," you said, taking a spoonful and feeding it to him, your expression softening for the first time at him.

His heart skipped a beat as you fed him. He was pleasantly surprised and couldn't hide his joy. His eyes never left yours, filled with fondness and affection.

After many feedings, the plate was empty. "Full now?" you asked, tilting your head.

"Yeah, I'm full now," he replied, unable to stop staring at you with tender adoration.

Silence…

"Well, I'm going to take a walk around," you announced, disposing of your plate.

He nodded, feeling reluctant to let you go alone. "I'm going with you," he said firmly, standing up after discarding his plate.

Walking beside you while matching your pace, he kept his eyes on you, not wanting to look away. "Where are you going?" he asked softly, genuinely curious.

‘’Just around,” you shrugged, feeling the chill of the windy weather.

He observed you, noticing how your body shivers slightly because of the chilly weather. He felt a protective feeling. His Y/n senses tingling, “Do you want to wear my jacket?” His voice softened, his eyes fixed on your shivering form.

you shook your head, nose getting a bit pink from the weather. ‘’No. You’ll be cold too’’

He shook his head with a slight smile on his face. He was quite amused by your concern for him, it made his heart flutter. But he still wanted to give you his jacket to stop you from being cold, so he was still going to offer it to you again.

“I’ll be fine. It’s not that cold for me. You���re the one visibly cold and shivering here.” He replied with a gentle tone. Damn it, he just wanted to wrap his arms around you and pull you closer to him to share body heat with you.

So he did just that. “How about this instead?”

He was surprised when he saw that you were now walking close to him and you didn’t refuse to get closer, which he was really glad about. He felt happy being able to walk with you and walk so close to you.

“This is much better, isn’t it?” He softly said with a small smile.

Yeah,” you agreed. Finding his body warmth comforting.

His smile widened, feeling content and elated that you were walking so closely with him. He basked in the warmth of the moment, feeling like he was floating on cloud nine. He stole glances at your profile, admiring your beauty from the side.

He then spoke again, breaking the silence in between. He was keeping his voice soft and gentle with you. “You do know that I am very much in love with you, right?”

Huh?

You stopped abruptly, processing his words. “What?”

He halted too, meeting your gaze with soft eyes before repeating himself.

“I said, I’m in love with you,” he confessed softly. He had assumed you knew, but now he wanted to make it clear.

You squinted your eyes. “Are you being for real right now?’’

“Of course I am. I always have.’’ he said softly. Uncertain of your reaction, his eyes never leave yours.

You stood still, processing everything. “Wait, so all this time… when you’ve been helping me and all that, it’s because you were in love? You weren’t just doing it to annoy me?”

“Mhm, yes. That’s exactly right. I’ve been helping you because I’m so damn in love with you,” he replied softly, watching you closely.

“I haven’t exactly been subtle about it,” he admitted with a smile.

“Whenever I see you tired or sleepy, I just can’t help myself. I want to take care of you,” he confessed, a look of adoration on his face. His love for you was evident in every word and gesture.

You groaned, face-palming yourself as you looked down. “I’m such a dumb bitch.”

He was slightly startled by your groan and self-criticism, finding your reaction unexpected but somewhat endearing. Chuckling softly, he responded with a teasing yet reassuring tone.

“Hey now, no need to be calling yourself that just because you didn’t realize my feelings. Though yeah, you’re kinda being a dumbass in this case.”

He chuckled again as you glared at him, finding your attempt to look intimidating rather adorable. “Alright, I’m sorry! I’m sorry,” he apologized with an apologetic tone, feeling a twinge of regret for calling you a dumbass, even though he still believed you were being oblivious to his love.

But he knew it was partly his fault. He was openly smitten with you, not bothering to conceal his lovesick behavior. His simping over you was obvious to anyone paying attention.

Softening your gaze, you sighed, “Okay, yeah, I admit I’m such a dumbass.”

Amused, he chuckled again, nodding in agreement before playfully teasing, “Damn right, you are a dumbass. A pretty dumbass, at that.” His playful smirk softened into a loving gaze, his heart overflowing with affection for you.

Opening his arms, his smile widening “Now let me hug you.”

“No, I’m too full,” you resisted as you stepped back.

He pouted like a disappointed child. “But I wanna hug you!” he whined, unabashedly showing his desire to embrace you. He couldn’t help it; he just wanted to hold you close because he is so damn in love.

You groaned. “Fine, you big baby.” you then lazily open your arms.

His smirk turned into a delighted grin as you relented, calling him a big baby. Wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. A satisfied hum escaped him as he held you tightly.

“Much better,” he murmured, his face nestled into the crook of your neck, inhaling your vanilla-like scent.

“I’m sorry, you know? For everything. For being such a bitch to you,” you muffled against him.

Chuckling softly, he tightened his embrace. “I forgive you. Especially when you’re apologizing while practically being squeezed to death by me,” he teased with a smug tone, relishing the closeness between you.

“It’s okay. It’s okay to be a bit bitchy. I’ll still love you anyway.” His words were filled with genuine affection and reassurance.

You hesitated for a moment before asking, “I don’t understand. There will be someone who can treat you much better than I am.”

"No, they're not. None of them can treat me better than you," he affirmed, his tone soft yet firm, his grip around you tightening slightly.

He chuckled at your observation, feeling warm and fuzzy inside. "Seriously, you don't have to feel guilty. I'm only into you. And I only want you."

Ignoring the tingling sensation in your stomach, you squinted at him. Eyeing his lips "You do know how kissable you are right now? But we just ate."

A rush of warmth filled him at your comment, feeling elated. He couldn't deny his impatience now; he wanted to kiss you as well.

"Yeah, I do know that. And I know we just ate. But I also really want to kiss you right now," he admitted.

"Now come on, kiss me, baby," he teased, puckering his lips. Stepping towards you.

Silence...

"No."

He pouted, disappointment flickering across his face as he let out a soft groan. His shoulders slumped, his need to kiss you growing stronger. He felt extra needy and clingy, desperate to feel your lips against his.

"Why not?" he whined, giving you a puppy-dog look, his expression akin to that of a child denied a sweet treat. He didn't care if you found him annoying; he just wanted to kiss you so badly.

"Ugh, fine... fine," you relented. Not wanting to see that disgustingly cute pouty expression on his face.

His smirk returned triumphantly as you finally gave in. “Finally,” he muttered happily, swiftly wrapping his arms around your waist. His gaze locked onto yours, then drifted to your lips. He admired them for a brief moment before leaning in, pressing his lips gently against yours.

It was euphoric, kissing you. He savored the softness of your lips, his hands gently pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, panting softly as he gazed at you with a lovesick, smitten expression. He held onto you, unwilling to let go just yet.

“Was that your first kiss?” he asked with a smirk, a playful glint in his eyes.

You tilted your head, teasingly asking, “Was it yours?”

He chuckled softly. “Of course it was. I’ve never kissed anyone before you, so obviously, you’re my first kiss. And technically, you’re also my first love,” he confessed, his smirk widening.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. “Well… I have feelings for you too,” you admitted. “I’m still figuring them out, but I want to explore them with you and I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.”

His smile softened into a gentle expression of affection. “I’m glad you realized it,” he replied warmly, his tone filled with sincerity and love.

“Though, you should be sorry,” he teased lightly. “Took you long enough to figure out that I love you.”

You rolled your eyes and scowled at him before attempting to walk away.

Chuckling softly at your reaction, he couldn't let you go far. He quickly grabbed your wrist and gently pulled you back toward him.

"Hey, where are you going?" he asked, his tone lighthearted yet earnest, not wanting to lose the closeness between you.

"At the tent. Away from you," you said to him.

He refused to let you go, pulling you back against his with a strong embrace.

"Yeah, I'm not letting you escape to the tent," he declared firmly, holding you tightly. "We're going together."

You tilted your head, questioning his use of "we."

He nodded, understanding your confusion. "Yes, 'we'. You and me, together."

"We have assigned tents, and I have to share with the others," you reminded him.

He shrugged dismissively, showing little concern for the assigned tents and sharing situation. "That sucks," he acknowledged, his grip on you tightening slightly.

"Looks like I'm joining you in that tent," he added.

you warned. “‘Fine, but don't blame me if you get caught,"

His eyes gleamed with mischief as he eagerly agreed to share the tent with you. "Wouldn't dream of it, baby," he replied with a smirk, guiding you both towards the tents.

💜

The next day, the camp trip came to an end. You made your way towards the school bus while carrying your bag. Where Jungwon wasn't far behind, also with his bag in tow. But he had other plans in mind, plans he intended to set in motion right then. Moving closer to you as you both approached the bus, he leaned in, his voice soft as he spoke, "When we get on the bus, sit next to me."

"Obviously," you replied, taking his hand and pulling him along to find a seat.

Jungwon's heart fluttered at your gesture, finding it adorable how certain you were that you would sit next to him. As you neared the bus, he caught Ni-ki's nod from the front. Jungwon gave him a smug look, silently communicating ‘I won’. Ni-ki responded with a silent clap, acknowledging Jungwon’s small victory.

Watching as you settled into your seat, Jungwon sat down next to you. He looked at you briefly before softly demanding, "Scooch closer."

He wanted to be near you, especially after the wonderful moments you shared, including that amazing kiss and all the cuddles in the tent. Smiling as you moved closer to him, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, drawing you snugly against his side. "This is nice," he remarked, content with your closeness.

Looking at him, you suddenly asked, "Hey, when we get back, want to plan our first date?"

He chuckled lightly at the idea. "Of course, pretty. We'll plan it."

His tone was firm yet light-hearted as he glanced at your face. "And trust me, I'll spoil the hell out of you."

"Good," you replied with a smile on your face, giving him a peck on the lips.

Finally, the bus started moving, taking you both home. A ring will surely be waiting for you in the future.

[twopoppies]

hey love, i hope this arrives in one piece and nothing is cut off, as i am not sure anymore how much i can write in a tumblr ask. just to be sure, my message ends with a ":)"

i'm a larrie since 2013, but went on a work-related tumblr break in 2018 (i work in the music industry). i returned to tumblr last week, amidst deep shared grief 💔 to find solace in community. as i tried to cheer myself up by going through my favorite blogs (like yours, it's so wonderful) and trying to catch up -especially about Harry&Louis things that i missed in the last years-, i found the posts really feel like little nuggets of joy and i'm so grateful for that. so i decided i finally want to add to it, now that my industry commitments have downsized significantly. i haven't shared this in almost a decade (never online anyway) and it's not big news or anything, but whenever i remember it, it just makes my heart glow. so, one of my closest work-friends in the industry back in the days (and i'll use neutral pronouns to protect them) did two tours with them in 🦘 in 2013 and 2015. our shared work ethics and also contracts obviously forbade us both from sharing almost all of what was seen or heard (concerning the artists' personal business), but my friend knew i firmly believed Harry and Louis to be together, just closeted (and we both knew this sadly was very common in music or the film industry; meaning mgmt iron-closeting non-straight male artists was completely and automatically still considered The Norm back then, especially with male artists doing these kinds of numbers and having that large of a young fanbase). i never indulged in my reasons or theories, because i felt like i had a professional reputation to uphold and also with me being queer and in the closet as well, it felt too personal to discuss, back then. during the first tour in 2013, we didn't text much, they just said the band was all very friendly and crew was professional, they seemed "like family". the schedule was "brutal". and security constantly needed to be "tightened", due to invasive people trying to steal or replicate tour passes. i didn't ask my friend about Harry and Louis specifically --but admittedly we also weren't that close of friends at that point. during the second tour in 2015, we were though, and only a few days in, they out of the blue texted something that made me smile so wide, i honestly think my cheeks are hurting to this day. :D i quote: "hey so those two louis and h. can't tell you more but you weren't wrong!!!" i replied with ":DDDDDDD" (honestly felt like sending a million heart emojis instead) and about an hour later they sent "every here knows too!!!" and a correction: "everyone" and to this day, almost 10 years later, I keep these imessages saved, because it made me so happy. and i hope that sharing my time-capsuled precious memory will make someone else happy, too. their love is truly something so special. oh, and one of the two was really unlucky at the pokies (slot machines) and quite a sore loser, haha. I always guessed it was Louis, but I don't know. :)

🥹 Oh, we really needed some happiness around here. Bless you for sharing this.

Also, I tend to agree with you that it was Louis on the slot machines. LMAO!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA (I don't have time to unpack everything into a single question)

First things first, I am a supporter of consang AKA consensual sanguinity AKA consensual incest. I'm not interested in practicing nor is it a kink thing, I just believe there's nothing wrong with two consenting adults in a relationship, related or not. Any relationship can be abusive and some are more prone to abuse than others bit that's not an excuse to condemn all of them, blablabla, all arguments against inbreeding are literal eugenicist talking points.

Anyways, disclaimer aside.

I'm in this moderately big server where I chat once a week or so. But I do check the blacklist whenever it updates. And this new person had added incest to it. Which, well... I'm not against because I know for many its a triggering topic. But I still believe being against it is a form of bigotry and I can't necessarily just bring it up to anyone, so I try and determine who in the server I can bring it up with.

There's this other girl in the server I've chatted with once or twice, and I know the country she's from has comparatively high rates of incest compared to other countries. I send her a DM asking how she feels about the new person in the server, totally neutral. She says she hasn't talked to them before and asks why I'm asking and I just say (again, trying to be neutral) that I'm wondering what her opinion on their "stances" are. She catches on that I'm asking about how they hate incest, and ask what that has to do with her. I admit that I thought that she'd understand given where she lives. She doesn't respond, and the next day I discover I've been banned from the server.

I mean it when I say I handled the conversation as respectfully as I possibly could, and I wasn't asking out of ignorance because it's right there in the statistics. I myself am a westerner, but that doesn't mean I think the beliefs surrounding consangamoury in western countries are correct, and I thought she would understand that. AITA for approaching her?

What are these acronyms?

[kittenintheden]

You Can Read Me Anything Part 2

*ELMO ON FIRE GIF* so that took longer than anticipated but you know. HERE YOU GO. (thank you for all the wonderful comments on Part 1)!

***

Druidic Tav grew up in a nomadic clan that recorded their history through spoken word and song rather than written text. As such, she's illiterate, and one charming-ish vampire offers to help her with reading lessons and a whole lot more. Out of the goodness of his heart, of course.

Then one night, she unwittingly brings him smut for their lesson.

Rating: E Word Count: 5100 words Content: illiterate Tav, Astarion being a shit, but also being cute, innocent Tav, suggestive dialogue, blood drinking, biting kink, first time oral, cunnilingus, fellatio, PIV sex, Astarion playing himself

AO3 Link

Astarion cradles her head, palm gently pressed to her cheek as she leans into it. She sighs and it tickles his ear, sending a dissipating wave of gooseflesh down the length of his back.

“Are you done yet?” Tav asks, voice breathy.

He hums and detaches from her neck, admiring the clean pair of fang marks he left there. His tongue swipes his bottom lip so he doesn’t waste a single drop of her blood. He releases her and takes a step back.

“You…” he says with a lazy smile as he reaches out with a finger to boop her nose. “... are so delicious.”

“Ha, ha,” she says with an affectionate eyeroll. She spreads her hand over the bite mark and calls on her connection to nature, using it to knit the flesh back together and restore her blood supply. “Glad to help.”

“I’ll bet you are,” he drawls at her with a wink. “Thank you for the appetizer. I’d best go find myself a full meal now.”

As he starts to saunter off deeper into the woods, Tav clicks her fingers and lightly bonks herself on the head. “Oh, almost forgot.” After him, she calls the Elvish phrase Shadowheart taught her.

For the first time since she met him at the site of the nautilus crash, she watches Astarion trip over his own feet.

He catches himself quickly, spine unusually straight as he puts his hands on his waist and takes a few more steps like he’d meant to do that the whole time. When he turns around to look at her, her smile fades when she notices his wide-eyed expression. The tips of his ears have gone very pink.

“Wha-” His voice cracks and he clears his throat and tries again, tone painfully casual. “What did you say?”

Tav grimaces. “Shit, did I get the middle part wrong? It was tricky when Shadowheart had me practice.”

Astarion leans forward a bit and gives a shaky laugh. “Ah. Right. I must’ve misunderstood. What were you trying to say?”

“She told me it meant, ‘I’m pleased to have provided you a good meal,’” Tav says, reaching up to pull some of her hair over her shoulder and fiddle with it.

“I see,” he says as he comes closer, his eyes searching her face. “Could you say it again? So I can correct your enunciation.”

“Oh, okay.” Tav gives a soft cough into her hand and repeats the phrase.

Astarion is close enough now that she sees his pupils dilate the tiniest bit. The flush at the tips of his ears spreads down the edges. Do they always do that after he feeds? They must.

He reaches delicate fingers up to cup her chin and draw her jaw down, parting her lips. His eyes are trained on her mouth and that makes her feel all too warm.

“Loosen your tongue,” he says softly. “Once more.”

She tries one more time and watches his eyelids flutter, inches from her own.

“There we go,” he whispers.

His gaze shifts to her neck again and he leans down toward it. She nearly stops him, but then she feels the draw of his tongue over the spot where he bit. He punctuates it with a soft, barely-perceptible press of his lips. A kiss, she might think, if she were a silly little girl. Which she certainly is not.

Then he’s standing straight again, releasing her face and putting space between them.

“Missed a smudge. Can’t let it go to waste.” His eyes rove over her face. “It’s so very precious.”

Then he walks off and she’s left standing there, cheeks hot and chest uncomfortably tight. Tav continues to run her fingers nervously through her hair as she turns and walks back toward their camp.

Astarion counts out fifty paces before he ducks behind a tree and leans his back heavily against it, letting out a shivery breath. He puts his cool fingers to his ears and tries to rub the heat out of them.

“Stop it,” he whispers to himself. “Stop it, stop it.”

---

Near the crumbling wreckage of a stone alter, Shadowheart kneels in prayer seeking guidance and direction from her Lady. The darkness, the loss, the silence… they are vast and answerless. She opens her eyes and takes a deep breath in and out. Clenches her right hand, glancing at the ever-present wound there.

If only she could remember… anything useful. No matter. For now, it’s whatever path will take her back to Baldur’s Gate.

She gathers her components and packs them away, standing to walk back down the path toward camp. There’s a trio of crumbling walls that clearly used to be some sort of holy building and she walks along one, trailing her fingers over the soft moss overgrowth.

Then she turns round the corner of the broken temple to find a bristling, broody vampire leaned up against the wall with his arms folded, glaring at her with a tic in his jaw. He raises an accusatory finger.

"You," he says, the word hard on his tongue. "Are an arsehole."

She gives him a smug smile and arches her brow. "You're a bigger arsehole."

He refolds his arm and narrows his eyes at her. “Really think you’re clever, don’t you.”

The cleric shrugs and cuts off to the side to walk back to the path. “The goal was to make you lose your cool. Seems like it worked.”

Silently and suddenly he’s walking at her side, lip curling in disdain. “Congratulations to you, you managed to annoy me. Don’t do it again.”

“Oh, he’s testy tonight,” she says, putting a hand to her cheek in a mockery of shock. “Maybe you’d feel less the fool if you hadn’t been teaching her to talk dirty.”

“We can’t all be ice queens, dear,” he sneers. “Some of us are queens with needs.”

Shadowheart rolls her eyes and her entire head along with it. “You should be thanking me, then. I gave you your opening.”

Astarion stops and she keeps on walking.

“To what?” he says.

“To have your ‘needs’ met,” she calls over her shoulder. “I’m not the one who was teaching her to invite me betwixt her thighs. Have a frustrating night.”

Astarion makes an affronted noise after her, pouts a moment, and then calls back, “Your bangs are wretched, by the way.”

She throws a rude gesture up at him and continues onward.

---

He plots and flirts for three days straight before he decides to make his move. Tav’s guard is down, her shy little moments are increasing in frequency, and he can literally hear her heartbeat quicken when he’s near. If that’s not all signs pointing to yes, he doesn’t know what is.

All he has to do is, you know. Make the move. Which he’ll do. Soon.

Because she still makes the most sense. The others all adore her, listen to her. She’s the perfect choice of protector should his vampirism prove a problem to anyone. She’ll say yes. Of course she’ll say yes.

… of course she’ll say yes. No one denies him. It doesn’t happen.

… it rarely happens. Not as if he’d care if it did, this time.

Astarion rocks his weight onto his back leg, flicking his gaze up to see Tav kneeling near the campfire and giving the dog a generous belly rub. Before she stops, he goes back to his extremely casual reading. Standing posed outside his tent. Holding a book with the title facing out. Very normal.

After what feels like an hour, his ears pick up approaching footsteps and he skims the page he’s on, waiting.

“Is that a new one?” Tav asks timidly.

He closes the book and looks up to meet her. His close-lipped smile feels almost natural. Almost.

“There you are,” he says, dropping his register a fraction. “I was just thinking about you.”

Not a lie, actually.

She tucks her hair behind one ear. “Oh? Do I owe you something?”

He laughs and sets his book aside. “Only a bit of your time. I do enjoy it so very much.”

Tav quirks her mouth up on one side. “Yeah? You’re pretty okay, too.”

“Better than okay, I should hope.” He closely examines his thumbnail. “I’m… growing to enjoy the whole package, honestly.”

She doesn’t immediately respond and he chances a look up at her.

“Deer in the magicked light” is what one might call the expression on her face. She blinks rapidly and gives her head a small shake before she looks to the side, color rising prettily in her cheeks.

“Is that so?” she says, giving a tight laugh.

His smile starts to go a little toothy and he dials it back. “I’ve been thinking an awful lot about our last reading lessons,” he lilts at her, peering up through his lashes. “And our language lessons. I’ve been pondering over what other sorts of lessons I could offer.”

Tav’s cheeks go pink to red.

He leans in to speak softly, making her lean in closer to be able to hear him. “I like you,” he says. “And I think you like me, too. So?”

“So, what?” she blurts, immediately grimacing at her own outburst.

A giggle bubbles up out of him before he can stop it and he puts a hand up in front of his mouth to hide his smile. When he regains control, he lowers his hand. “So, I thought you might like to indulge in certain curiosities with me.”

I want to go down on you.

Astarion blinks the thought away as soon as it appears in his head, briefly letting his smile slip before he snatches it back.

Tav is blushing furiously, but she leans in closer to him nonetheless to whisper, “Like what, exactly?”

Elvish, rising like the language of his dreams: I want to drink of your fountain.

He gives his head a light shake, playing it off with a mirthful huff as he says lowly, “Like sex, sweet thing. Whatever kind you might be… interested in.”

Tav nods rapidly and hums, slowly leaning back and standing at her full height again, not quite meeting his eye. “I was pretty sure that’s what you meant, but you know. Better safe than sorry? Is that a thing people say?”

Astarion reaches out to gently guide her chin toward him until she’s looking at him. “Think about it. If you’re amicable, you’ll find me later at the clearing where you last offered me a bite after the others are asleep.” He chucks her under the chin. “I’ll be waiting.”

She nods once more, expression unchanged. “Yeah. Yep. Okay. I’m going to… see you later. Maybe.” Then she turns on her heel and walks away.

“See you later,” he says. “Lover.”

When she disappears into the dark, he blows out a breath, subtly shaking his hands out. That was a yes.

Right?

“Of course it was,” he snipes at his own brain.

---

Hours later, Astarion paces the moonlit clearing, fiddling with the cuffed sleeve of his shirt. The others must be asleep by now. He pulls at the sleeve. It feels too tight.

Should he take the shirt off? He should just take the shirt off.

He does.

Astarion glances around the clearing once more, noting the blanket he spread on the ground nearby. Not a bed, but you know. He’s okay with that, actually.

He clenches and unclenches his fists, rolling his hands at the wrists. Cracking his neck. Rolling out his shoulders. He takes a deep breath and forces himself to be still. Controlled. Practiced. This is an act he’s performed thousands of times. This is no different.

It’s not.

She’s going to come out of those bushes any moment and-

The bushes he’s looking at actually rustle and he jumps, whispering “oh, shit” before he can stop himself. He manages to put a smile back on his face just as the leaves part and a small doe takes two hops into the clearing and freezes when it spots him.

Astarion doesn’t move. He doesn’t even breathe. The doe relaxes very slightly, flicking an ear.

It’s one of the little black-tailed deer native to the area. He’s made a meal of more than one of them in recent days. Her coat is smooth and healthy, her eyes brown and clear.

The doe blinks at him and takes a step closer.

He gives a relieved chuckle and says, “There you are, Tav.”

“Oh, you heard me? Damn,” says a voice from behind him.

“Ah-” he yells. He tries to cut off the sound, but it’s too late. The doe spooks and bounds off into the underbrush once again.

“Apologies,” he says, regaining his composure and rolling his eyes to the stars above. “She was such a pretty little thing that I assumed it was you.” He starts to turn. “But I’m glad you made it. I was starting to worry you’d gotten lost and…” He finally sets eyes on her and loses his smile immediately. “... and you’re already naked.”

Tav stands before him without a stitch on, her long hair hanging over her rounded breasts and everything from the waist down on full display. He spots her clothing and staff in a neat stack nearby. Her whole body is flushed.

Astarion swallows. He’s seen untold numbers of people in states of full undress. This is routine. She caught him off-guard, is all.

“I… was I not supposed to be?” Tav says, hands going up to run nervously through her draping hair. “Sorry, I thought… you said sex? And then I saw that you had your shirt off, so…”

He holds up a hand and ticks up his brows. “No, no, it’s fine. It’s fine! I like it.” He finds the mask, the posture, like muscle memory. Slips back into the person in control. “You’re just full of surprises, beautiful.”

Tav rewards him with a bashful smile, continuing to comb her hands through her hair.

Astarion huffs a laugh. He can’t help himself. He approaches her with slow, intentional steps. “I had a whole catalog of poetic nothings to whisper in your ear, but looks like I needn’t bother, which is fine by me.” He stops in front of her, smiling his charmer’s smile. “So long as you still want to be tasted.”

He’s starting to notice it’s a good sign when the apples of her cheeks turn red. She nods. “I’d like to try the tongue thing, yes, please.”

“Good,” he purrs, reaching for her hips.

He pulls her in for a sweet, well-executed stage kiss. Most people needed about that much before they got to what they were really with him for. He pulls back and gives her a tight-lipped smile.

Tav looks into his eyes, her lips parted. She’s not moving, and oh gods, he’s going to have to lead completely, isn’t he? Ah well. Such is life.

But then she tucks her chin, her gaze going heated. The pupils of her eyes flicker, changing shape ever so slightly, and Astarion hardly has time to drop his pretender’s smile and ask before she surges forward and kisses him back, throwing her arms around his neck.

Astarion gives a surprised “mmmn!” as he stumbles slightly under her vigor, but he corrects quickly, wrapping his arms around her ribcage and lifting her against his body. Her tongue runs along his mouth and she’s nipping, nipping, and-

There’s a sharp sting on his bottom lip and he releases her right as she pulls back from him, hands to her mouth and eyes wide as saucers. He reaches up to touch his lip and when he looks at his fingers, they show a smeared drop of blood. He blinks down at it, astounded.

He feels a snap deep inside him as the monster in him, the hunter, stirs at the sight and scent of blood.

“I’m so sorry,” Tav says, dropping her hands. “It’s a druid thing, we can get a little wild, I’m really sorry, I won’t do it again.”

Astarion licks at the cut on his lip and stares at her face, his breath heavy and his shoulders ever so slightly hunched. He can see the smallest bit of his blood at the corner of her mouth.

“Do it again,” he says with a voice like gravel as he scoops her bodily up and goes to his knees so he can set her on the ground.

He lays his body on top of hers and she gasps as his mouth covers hers, exploring and hungry. It doesn’t take long for her to return it in kind, arms wrapped around his shoulders and tangled in his hair. He can’t even bring himself to care when she’s making it look like.

Murkily, his brain reminds him why he’s actually here.

Astarion forces himself away from her mouth and she whines at him, a sound far more animalistic than humanoid, but he doesn’t stop trailing his lips down her body until he gets to her hips. He rolls himself up onto his knees and runs his palms up the tops of her legs from knee to thigh, coaxing them open so he can position himself between.

He looks at her face to find her gaze far less “startled doe” and far more “she-wolf in heat.” Her tongue darts out, licking her lip before she says, “People really like to do this?” Then, “You like to do this?”

Astarion positively grins, his pointed teeth showing through.

"Yes. Though it’s a pity this is your first experience," he says through his feral smile. "Because no one will ever best what I'm about to do to you."

“O-okay,” she stammers, clutching her fists close to her sides.

He purrs deep in his throat and puts his mouth to the inside of her knee, the tip of his tongue tracing a sensual line down her thigh, toward her center. He holds her eye the entire time and delights when her leg twitches.

When he nears the crease of her hip, he gives her a sharp nip and she growls at him, bucking her hips. He runs his tongue up along the crease until he reaches her hipbone, to which he gives a firm suck. As she attempts to roll her hips toward him, he spreads a palm over her hips and applies pressure to hold her down.

“Shall we check to see how you’ve kept your garden?” he says, looking at her from under his brows as he speaks.

In response, Tav giggles and slaps a hand over her mouth. Then nods.

She drops her hand to the ground and shakes her head, murmuring, “It can’t be that different, I’m sure it’s just like…” She shudders in a breath. “... just like…”

Astarion parts his lips and huffs out his breath against the slick skin at her core, already shining with want and anticipation. The sensation is a warming one.

Tav continues muttering to herself. “Books are full of all kinds of nonsense, I’m sure it’s-”

He flicks his tongue right over her clit.

“Ah,” she yelps, trying to buck her hips again. He doesn’t let her.

But he does flick again.

“Wha-” she says, thighs jerking on either side of Astarion’s head. “Why is-”

Astarion presses the flat of his tongue firmly at her entrance and draws it slowly all the way to the hood, teasing with the tip before he curls his tongue in slightly and dips back down to better open her inner labia.

“Holy hells,” Tav groans out, her chest arching up and the hands clawing the ground at either side of her growing actual claws.

He gives her another lap before pulling back to smolder at her. “And here I’ve only just started,” he says, voice silky.

“Holy hells,” Tav shouts to the sky this time.

Astarion huffs a laugh against her and goes back down, playing her with highly practiced skill. Full, long licks paired alongside firm draws over the swelling pearl at her center. She continues to buck ever now and again, but mostly she’s gone near boneless above him, head lolling lazily to either side and fingers weakly gripping the grass on either side of her.

When her breathing begins to stutter and he feels the flutter of her getting close, he finally moves his hand from her belly back down until he can get the angle right. He places the tips of his two middle fingers at her entrance so he doesn’t surprise her and glances up to see her eyes flutter open. She stares down at him from between the mounds of her breasts, pupils blown wide.

She licks her bottom lip.

She nods.

Astarion slides his fingers inside her and begins to pump in time with the movements of his mouth. Tav goes wild, both literally and figuratively. The pupils of the eyes watching him go slitted like a cat’s, gradually dilating back as her teeth go sharp and a random patterning of fur shivers down the length of her body before turning back to skin.

He takes that as a good sign and curls his fingers inside of her until he finds what he’s looking for.

Tav bark-mewl-roar-calls into the air above the clearing, her hips grinding into his mouth and hand now that she can move them again.

“Why does that…” she gasps. “Feel… so… good?” The last word comes out a growl.

He’d answer, but his mouth is preoccupied and he dare not let it leave its task.

With his free hand, he pushes her thigh up and guides it higher until she can wrap her leg round his shoulders and he can go deeper. He feels the swell of her under his tongue, going harder beneath his touch, and he begins to trace circles around it as he continues to pump his fingers into her.

Tav’s entire body rolls, trying to get closer, to get more, to get-

She howls as the tension finally snaps. Literally howls, from the very bottom of her chest.

Astarion slows but doesn’t stop, continuing to fuck her through it as he feels her release in the palm of his hand. He’s gentle, taking a touch of pity on her as he gives her a few more soft licks before he leaves her, drawing his fingers from her at the same time. They’re a mess, as is his face. He sits back on his knees and looks her over with lidded eyes, a self-satisfied half-grin on his face. Then he reaches into his pocket to produce a soft cloth to clean up.

He’s not much of a planner, but he plans enough for things like this.

Tav lolls on the ground, her body fully returned back to humanoid form. All except her pupils, which continue to occasionally flicker across the animal kingdom.

“Oh, that was good,” Astarion says, brows raised and grin on his face as he wipes his hand down. “Even for me, that was good. You’re welcome.”

She throws one arm out to her side, then the other, and slowly pushes herself up onto her elbows, trying to focus on him. “Why doesn’t… everybody do that? Oh my gods.” She flops back onto the ground.

Oh, she’s very good for his pride. He gives a pleased wiggle.

“You tell me,” he says. “Or call upon your old lovers and ask.”

Tav weakly waves her hand through the air. “They were bad. I’ve realized. Just now. They were bad at sex.”

“Poor thing,” Astarion croons. “All better now.”

“Yeah.” She rolls onto her side and sits up. Shakes out her head. And starts to crawl toward him.

He instinctively leans back as she comes closer, breasts swaying as she moves. “What are you doing?” he says.

She blinks at him. “I’m going to do it back.”

He blinks at her. “What?”

Tav draws her knees closer and matches his kneeling posture. “I’m going to put my mouth on you back.” She waits a beat. “If you want me to.”

“Uh,” Astarion breathes before he shakes himself and gets his wits back about him. “I would like that very much,” he says. He tries to purr it, but slightly lower in pitch is the best he can do.

It’s been years since he’s been with anyone who even bothered to ask. Probably decades.

Tav beams at him, a bright smile that’s so sunshiny it nearly betrays what they’ve just done. She rolls up onto her knees and pulls him by the wrists to do the same so she can reach the laces that hold his trousers on. His arousal pulses near her hands.

Astarion blinks. He’s… more into this than he usually is.

He blinks again.

He’s very into it, actually.

His fingers go to join hers and together they make quick work of his pants and underthings. Gently, she guides him back to kneeling again as she curls forward. Without thinking too much about it, he reaches out so he can hold her hair up out of her face. She’s at eye level with his cock, inspecting it with the eye of someone all too familiar with all the things nature has to offer and completely unashamed for it.

Astarion swallows back the wanting sound that tries to claw its way out of him.

“Have you done this before?” he asks softly.

Tav peers up at him from her position below and bends her legs at the knees, kicking her feet slowly through the air. She shakes her head “no” and something frozen inside him melts. Best ignore that. That’s a future-him problem.

“You are adorable,” he breathes. He finds he means it in the affectionate way rather than the condescending one, which is alarming. That’s another future-him problem.

Astarion clears his throat. “Same general practice applies here, really,” he says lightly.

Tav licks her lips and reaches out to touch him. Her fingers on him give him a little jolt to the solar plexus and he curls toward her on instinct before he catches himself.

“Tell me if there’s something I could do better,” she says, simply.

Then she licks along the underside of his cock and puffs her breath out across it, much in the same way he did to her.

He curls in toward her again and tightens the hand in her hair.

She puts her mouth over the head of him and he’s enveloped in warmth and oh, yes, he remembers this. This feels good. This feels very good.

Tav doesn’t get down very far before she backs up again. When she pulls off, he reaches a hand down to cup her jaw and draw it down, parting her lips.

“Loosen your tongue,” he whispers. “Once more.”

She does. She descends on him again, relaxing her jaw and loosening her tongue, taking him down deeper and deeper with each pass. Astarion means to watch and guide her, he does, but instead his head lolls back, eyes falling closed, and he smiles. A real smile.

It feels so bloody good. It feels good and he doesn’t have to… he can just be…

Tav hums a little with him mostly inside her mouth and he gasps from it, blinking back to the surface.

Oh, that’s too good.

He lets her go a few seconds more before he tightens the fingers in her hair once more to still her and gently guide her back. His chest heaves as her mouth leaves him, a string of saliva connecting them, and Astarion shudders forward.

“What’s wrong?” Tav asks, her eyes wide and concerned.

She can’t look at him like that. That’s not fair.

He lifts her beneath her arms and pulls her up toward him, her face to his, and kisses her again. She happily responds, catching his lower lip between hers and nipping once more.

Astarion groans.

Hands on her face, he breaks their kiss and tries to collect his scattered thoughts. It’s all hazed over with want. There was a reason for this, they were supposed to… he was supposed to…

“Why don’t we…” He loses the thought and swallows. Tries again. “Let’s find our mutual…”

Words, words, words, where are his words?

Astarion hisses through his teeth. “Oh, just… sex. Let’s have sex.”

“Oh,” Tav breathes, lips swollen and cheeks ruddy. “Okay.”

Whatever he had planned, which was not much, goes completely sideways as she simply climbs up onto his lap, reaches between them, and holds him steady so she can sink down onto him.

He’s so wholly unprepared for the suddenness and initiative of it that his eyes nearly roll back in his head before his mind catches up and he grips her hip with his hand, guiding her as he rolls up to meet her, his hips rhythmic, until their hips meet and he bottoms out.

Tav throws her arms around his shoulders and immediately begins to rock against him, her eyes closed and her joyous grin on her face. Astarion is doing his absolute best not to completely lose himself in her heat, her closeness, her scent.

Her pulse, oh, gods.

Astarion rocks himself up into her with steady rolls of his hips, tilting in to press his open lips to her neck with a moan.

“You can,” she gasps as she rides him. “You can bite, if you want.”

He’s not sure if the words he makes are language, but he does know he’s biting her and her blood washes over his tongue and he drinks lazily, sipping as he fucks into her at the same time. His mind is so unbelievably, blissfully bare of anything except how good, how hot, how much, how full, how winding winding winding-

Astarion pulls off her neck with a gasp almost on the edge of his orgasm. Automatically, he reaches between them and uses all the wiles of a skilled lockpick to send her spiraling over her ledge a second time before he furrows his brow, slams his eyes shut, and yells out as he climaxes, his spend spilling where he’s still buried deep.

“Oh, fuck,” he blurts before he can stop himself, nearly collapsing onto his side with Tav along for the ride. He slips out of her on the way down and immediately feels the mess they’ve just made.

Another future-him problem.

Tav casts a very half-hearted create water spell that at least rinses them off. She drapes herself over his chest, dopey smile plastered on her face. “You win,” she says. “I see what all the fuss is about now.”

“I bet you do,” he says breathily.

He’s grateful she’s not looking at his face as he struggles to hide the worry pulling at his expression. It’s future-him time, and future-him is having a moment.

He just had the best sex he can remember having in… that he can remember. With someone who will still be alive in the morning. And he likes her.

Oh, hells.

He likes her.

[utilitycaster]

this may seem needlessly finicky but I do actually believe it's important: calling Verin a himbo is just one of many examples where like, one of the cast says something off the cuff and it's not exactly the right word or it is highly contextual, and that is fine because no one is perfect especially in improv, but then it gets repeated ad infinitum within the fandom when it never really fit in the first place. We have Verin's stats and he's decently more intelligent than average with a 13 (smarter than most of Bells Hells for one; as smart as Pike); it's just he's the guy with a bachelor's degree with good grades followed by military service in a family where everyone has two PhDs - Matt said "himbo of the family" the way in a family where most people are exceptionally tall you'd call the 5'11" child the short one. In Call of the Netherdeep he appears as thoughtful and competent and promoted to a difficult position at a very young age, and in the campaign his appearance is simultaneously as a leader of troops in a dangerous mission, and someone who cares enough about poetry from a completely foreign and distant culture to have tried to learn more about it. I'm sorry, but if you're using the word "himbo" I don't think you're processing a thing about the character yourself; you're just the latest repetition in a game of telephone that's been going on since mid-2021.

And that's not deeply bad on the surface, and I'm using Verin not because he is the character most wronged by this sort of thing but because he's recent and it's really clear where the word came from and that it's not a good assessment, but something I happen to have a decent knack for is pattern recognition in language. I usually find it really easy to pick up on when someone's plagiarized because of the language and pattern shifts. I tend to remember urls and out of place words well. So I do tend to notice when everyone suddenly starts using a single turn of phrase and I tend to flag it. Sometimes that's not bad; sometimes it means everyone came to a similar conclusion and that's the best way to express that conclusion. But like, when Taliesin called the Yios episode a gas-leak episode and the entire fandom started parroting it? The line "bone-dry takes"? The fact that a lot of ship defenses I see were phrased precisely as "I have eyes"? without actually talking about the ship itself? the fact that I've seen a spike in the use of the term "ontologically evil" including in myself and not all uses are actually correct? And extending this beyond strictly language but consider any headcanon with minimal textual support that catches like wildfire (sidebar: remember how we make, or made fun of the SPREAD THIS LIKE WILDFIRE tendency on Tumblr a decade ago? same concept of repetition of a specific turn of phrase without internalizing) all sort of ping this.

And it's fine, truly, to come to fandom and turn off your brain. I know this will sound sarcastic from me, and that's because I don't personally agree, but I do strongly agree that you can do what you want in fandom and you don't have to listen to my opinions so in the end, yeah, it's fine because I am not the arbiter of "fine". But I think critical thought is a vital exercise and I think precision with language is part of it and so if you find yourself using the same exact words and thoughts as everyone else, that should, ideally, trigger a process of "but are these the right words? what do I see when I see this character and how would I describe them? do I agree with this assessment?" Fandom is an interesting and easier microcosm than reality in which to start doing that.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Licence to Thrill || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: You give Charles the ride of his life when he’s running late to an important event. Warnings: 18+ only, illegal driving, sexual innuendos, fluff WC: 2.7k

F1 Masterlist || Based on this request

“No, no, no, shit.” Charles’ curses woke you up and you rubbed your bleary eyes as he tossed the blankets back, cold air rushing over your skin. You immediately missed the warmth of his body where he had been spooning you all night and grabbed your phone to see the time.

“Fuck!” Charles growled as his little toe caught the corner of the bedpost, again, and you leapt up to get dressed too. “We are so late, mon amour.”

He had been looking forward to the charity football game all week and the prospect of missing the kick off made him clumsy in his rush. While you pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt he struggled to get one leg into his team’s black football shorts, falling twice as he lost his balance. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmured as you curled an arm around his waist to steady him. “I shouldn’t have kept you up so late.”

He grabbed a shirt before sparing a moment to press his lips to your forehead. “Don’t be, I enjoyed myself very much.”

“Oh, I know, and I’m pretty sure my neighbours know it too,” you teased as you took your shirt from his hands and tossed him the correct shirt with his name and driver number on the back. “Come on, get that sexy ass moving.”

He laughed as you squeezed his butt when he bent down to tie his shoes. “Hands off the goods, honey, I’m not a piece of meat.”

“Keep telling yourself that, handsome,” you shot back as he made for the stairs and you locked the house behind you.

“Shit,” Charles groaned as he hit his head on the steering wheel. “I am stupid.”

“What’s wrong?” you asked, leaning over to see the dashboard. “You forgot to put petrol in again, didn’t you?”

“I was in a rush to get here last night,” he admitted sheepishly. “I’ll call Arthur to come get us.”

“I can take us.” You opened your handbag and found your keys as well as the remote for the garage door.

“Wait, you drive?”

“Of course I do,” you laughed as you climbed out of the Pista.

He quickly hopped out his side to follow. “I didn’t even know you had a licence. Why am I only just learning this now?”

“You never asked,” you said with a shrug, “and you always offer to pick me up.”

“Because I thought you didn’t drive.”

You giggled as you hit the remote and the door lifted up. “What did you think was in the garage?”

“Storage? Chérie,” he sighed as he followed you down the driveway that passed by the front door that he had a key for and he pointed to it. “I’ve never come in your backdoor, how should I know?” You cocked an eyebrow up with a smirk and he rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Well, just so you know, the garage is where I park my car.” You waved a hand to the opened door and Charles whistled as he saw the gleaming black hood catch the morning sun. He automatically started walking to the drivers side and you tutted at him. “Don’t even think about it, love. That’s my baby.”

“But-“

“No buts, if you want to make it to the match on time you ride shotgun.” You grabbed his shoulders and turned him in the direction of the other door and he grumbled as he started to walk around. “If it’s any consolation, you can pick the music.”

The door creaked open and slammed shut behind him before he groaned and you laughed as you climbed in to see him holding his phone, the Spotify app useless with the old radio. “Forgot to mention, she only takes cassette tapes.”

“You know you can update the stereo,” he pointed out as he opened the glove compartment and rifled through the stacks of old cassettes. “Fleetwood Mac. Michael Jackson. There’s nothing from this century.”

“Hey, don’t hate on them. They are classics and this is a classic car.” You turned the key and grinned as he dropped the tape at the sudden roar that was deafening in the small garage. “You might want to buckle up, baby.”

“Why are there racing harnesses in here?” he asked as he pulled the five point harness over his shoulders and bucked it in.

“You probably shouldn’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to,” you admitted as you shoved a random mixtape into the radio and turned the volume dial up.

The kick drum intro to Ram Jam’s  Black Betty thumped from the speakers as you pushed down the clutch and put the ‘70 Dodge Charger into gear. The full force of the V8 engine drove your body back into the seat as the car hurtled forward and burst into the sunlight. Charles latched onto the handle above his door and while the other hand pressed against the dash and his knees tucked up like he was preparing for impact.

“I’m trying not to be insulted here,” you huffed as you pushed his knee down between shifting gears. “I may not have a super licence like some people, but I have never crashed.”

A terrified scream erupted as you burst out of the driveway and pulled the handbrake, kicking the back wheels out as you drifted into the quiet suburban street and took off with a trail of burnt rubber. Your neighbours wouldn’t be too happy but you didn’t care as long as you got Charles to where he needed to be on time.

You spared a glance over to your boyfriend and saw the whites of his eyes as they stared at the road ahead and his knuckles turned white from the tight gripe he held. “Chérie, road, road, cars, look, traffic, look at the road. The road!”

He turned to you wide eyed as you approached the busy intersection at full speed before hitting the brake. You held his eye contact as you shifted down the gears before coming to a gentle stop at the lines in front of the traffic light and he exhaled in relief.

“You’re fucking crazy,” he said but the words were warm and his smile was one amazement as the adrenaline hit him. His hands tugged the harness until it was snug and he settled into the seat as you waited for the light to turn green. “I’m ready this time.”

“Good, because we won’t make it if I stop for every red light.”

“Wait, what?” The light changed and you put your foot to the floor as Charles chuckled nervously. “You’re joking right?”

“If it helps, sure,” you shrugged, weaving in and out of the cars and ignoring the angry honks of their horns. “Do you think I could take your car for a spin?”

“Absolutely…not.” 

You narrowed your eyes as he got your hopes up and almost missed the turn that would shave a few seconds off the travel time. Any normal person would have struggled to stay upright in their seat but Charles’ line of work made it easy for him to tense his abdominals and neck so he barely moved as the mass shifted and the back wheels drifted behind the turn.

“What if I let you drive this?” you bartered as the road straightened out and you reached speeds high enough to instantly lose your licence and the car. 

“Oh, mon amour,” he murmured as he chewed his bottom lip and he debated the offer before looking at his watch. “If you get me there before kick off you have a deal.”

He should have known you wouldn’t miss out on the opportunity very few people got and the smile you gave him gave him pause as he wondered what he had just got himself into.

“It’s going to be tight,” you muttered as you saw the time, just catching the hint of a smile on his face. “But doable.”

Charles watched with fascination. He saw your eyes scanning the road far ahead, making plans and contingency plans for the hazards that you might face. All the while you blindly shifted up the gears with your feet working in tandem, releasing the accelerator as you double clutched for a smoother transition. 

“I can’t believe this is really happening,” he chuckled in disbelief as you took a corner with enough speed that he knew there had to be some g-force working against you, but you didn’t even notice as you gripped the wheel tight and exited the apex without slowing down.

“I’m pretty sure if you were dreaming we would be doing something else, not driving.”

“I’m not sure now, I’m finding this extremely hot. You could pull over and make that dream come true?”

“And miss out on driving your baby? No way.” You shook your head with a laugh before biting your lip. “It is tempting, but I have to think of the children. They would be very disappointed if you didn’t show up for the match.”

“And Pierre, I don’t think he would forgive me.”

“I said children didn’t I. Oh, shit.” You ripped the handbrake and did a 180 as you missed the street you needed. “Stop distracting me.”

The stadium was just up ahead and you could see the parking lot on the other side of the overpass but there was only one road to get there. Unless you wanted to drive the long way around but then you would be late.

“Amour, that’s a one way street,” Charles pointed out as you headed to the underground pass. “You’re going the wrong way. There’s traffic cameras here too.”

“You’re right,” you huffed before twisting the wheel a little to the left then all the way to the right. The suspension would not like the pressure you were putting it under but she spun around and you shoved the car in reverse and draped your arm across Charles’ chair as you looked over your shoulder. “Wouldn’t want to get a fine.”

The engine roared inside the tunnel as you pushed the limits of the gear and you swerved through the lanes. You were grateful that it wasn’t rush hour traffic so there were only a few drivers angry with your recklessness before you burst out of the tunnel, through the intersection and into the parking lot. 

The stadium was quiet since the event was only televised but there were still lots of media crews at the entrance and they all turned your way as the back of your car careened towards them. You reached the last row of empty parking spaces and pulled the handbrake, whipping the front around and coming to a stop beside the gate entrance.

“Twelve seconds to spare,” you laughed as you drummed your fingers on the steering wheel. “That will be twenty euros and a five star rating, s’il vous plaît.”

“Just enough time to change my shorts,” he joked as he pushed his door open.

“Good thing they are black this year,” you retorted with a laugh as you tossed him his boots he would have forgotten. “Go, I’ll meet you inside.”

He blew a kiss as he took off at a jog and waved to the stunned reporters who were still recording.

“Is that Y/N?” A female presenter asked her male colleague.

“Leclerc’s girlfriend?” He laughed and shook his head. “No way. This has to be some stunt.”

You drove more sedately to a spot a few spaces away where you spotted Pierre’s car and parked beside it before killing the engine and letting the silence settle. Adjusting your mirror, you saw everyone still watching, waiting to see who it was being the wheel.

“I told you,” the woman gasped as she elbowed the man. “It was her! Do you have a moment?”

“Sorry, games about to kick off,” you apologised as you rushed past and into the stadium just in time to see Charles faceplant. “Ohh,” you gasped along with the others watching before cupping your hands around your mouth. “Yellow card ref!”

“He tripped over himself,” Kika whispered as she joined you.

“Oh I know, I just thought he could use a little 15 minute rest.” You grinned as you gave her a kiss on the cheek. “He’s had a rough morning.”

“What happened?”

“He stubbed his toe.” Your phone started vibrating and you pulled it out of your pocket to see your twitter notifications blowing up. “Huh, that was quick. The devil works hard but F1 fans work harder.”

You showed her the thread which started with a short clip of your car thrashing it down the street, Charles holding on for dear life. You chuckled as you saved it to show him later, knowing he would get a kick out of it too.

“Yeah, I don’t think that was the stubbed toe, hun…” she hummed.

“Meh,” you shrugged, pocketing the device so you could concentrate on the game.

Charles and Pierre’s team won the match and you climbed over the baluster to jump down to the grass as the pair jogged over. Charles swept you up with a proud grin as he spun around.

“Well played, handsome,” you praised as you brushed his sweaty hair back into place before helping yourself to a quick kiss.

“Wouldn’t have made it without you, chérie.”

Pierre clapped him on the shoulder and nodded his head to the reporters waiting for a post match interview and he reluctantly placed your feet back on the ground.

“Well, this should be interesting,” you muttered to Kika as you waved to the camera that remained pointed at you until Charles said something.

“Just how bad was your driving?” she asked curiously.

“Bad? Oh it wasn’t bad,” you chuckled. “My driving is actually very good, if I do say so myself. It was just a little faster than he was expecting.”

She curled an eyebrow up. “He goes 200 mph for a living.”

“Yeah, funny right.”

Charles was still catching his breath when the microphone was held in front of him and could see videos of his entrance playing on the big screens around the stadium. Pierre’s eyebrows disappeared under his hair in surprise as he saw the black Charger spinning to a stop and his friend climbing out.

“No fucking way,” Pierre laughed as he looked back at you laughing with his girlfriend. “That’s awesome.”

“I know right,” Charles said with a proud smile. “You should have seen it, she was going full on sideways through these corners, it was insane.”

“So, Charles, I'm sure this comes as no surprise,” the reported began, “but we have some questions about your girlfriend, after the entrance she made.”

“You have some questions?” He threw his head back and laughed. “I have some questions! I had no idea she could drive like that.”

“Her father is a rally driver. Did you really never suspect anything?”

“My mother is a hairdresser, doesn’t mean I am good at cutting hair. Why do you think I wore a bandana during lockdown? I butchered it that’s why.” He brushed his hair back that had thankfully grown back after his terrible attempt and laughed to himself. “So no, I didn’t assume she could drive because her father can.”

The interview finally turned to the football match and then a little bit about the upcoming race before Charles was able to escape. He held up a finger and mouthed one minute as he made a detour to the few fans that had been invited. He talked with some of them, shaking hands and signing autographs.

You wolf whistled loudly as Charles took his shirt off and he grinned without even having to check who it came from before he gave it to a fan and waved goodbye. You knew you were staring as he jogged back and you knew you weren’t the only one, but he only had eyes for you as he gave you a wink and draped his arm over your shoulder.

“How cool is that shot,” he said as he looked up at the screens still playing a rotation of highlights from the game and your arrival. “There’s just one way to make it better.”

“Excuse me?” you dared him to criticise your driving but his charming smile only grew wider.

“Do it in a Ferrari.”

[worldlxvlys]

FOR THE DWB W MATT PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE DO A FIC WHERE HE COMES OVER N THE GUY IS STILL THERE I WANNA SEE WHAT WOULD HAPPEN🙏🏻🙏🏻 YOU DONT HAVE TO THO ID JUST LOVE TO SEE IT👁️👁️

lose your shit

dwb! matt x reader

warnings: mentions of sex, violence, mentions of blood, cursing

based on these texts, it won’t really make sense if you don’t read them.

a/n: the guy’s name is alex, i hope you like this <333

shit shit shit shit.

this is not good. i look over to the man laying in my bed, he was in a dead sleep.

matt doesn’t live that far away, maybe 10 minutes tops. however, he could have left before he even sent that text.

fuck.

i began to shake alex awake. “you gotta wake up, dude”

after a few seconds, he stirred and opened his eyes. “what’s wrong?” he asked, letting out a yawn.

“nothing. you just really need to fucking go”

“alright damn, but what’s the rush?”

“please just hurry up, i don’t have time for this” i said, pulling him off the bed.

“damn, was the sex that bad?” i didn’t even answer, just looked him up and down.

“alright, jeez” i collected his clothes from the floor and handed them to him.

he took the hint, beginning to get dressed.

when he was done he just stood there.

“was there something else you needed?” i asked trying to figure out why he wouldn’t leave.

“can i at least brush my teeth?”

“does this look like a fucking hotel to you? take your shit, and get out. now.” i answered, starting to get annoyed.

he just stared at me, mouth open.

“you do have a tooth brush and running water at your house, correct?”

“well, yeah. but-“

“ok that is amazing, lovely, the quicker you get out of my house, the quicker you can take care of your dental hygiene” i said nudging him out of my room.

i pushed him all the way to my door. maybe there is hope for this man after all.

when i opened the door, there stood matt.

fucking hell.

that has to be the worst timing i’ve ever had in my entire life.

his eyes immediately snapped toward alex. “what the fuck are you doing here?”

“i could ask you the same thing, matty-boy”

they know each other.

the two men stared at each other, never breaking the intense glare.

“oh great! you two know each other! well, alex was just about to head home so, y’all can catch up later” i said, trying to get him to walk away.

“actually, i think i’m gonna stay” he said, looking matt up and down.

well, shit.

this was like something out of a god damn movie. and while it didn’t surprise me that matt was acting this way, i wasn’t expecting this from alex.

alex did not seem like the type of guy to start a fight, he seemed more like the type to run away from one. he simply wasn’t built for it, at least, that’s what i thought.

matt clenched his jaw before grabbing alex by his shirt, pulling him outside and pushing him against my house.

“jesus christ, matt” i said in shock.

“what ya gonna do matty? gonna hit me?” matt did just that, swinging at alex’s face.

“you need to stay the fuck away from her. got it?”

“no can do, matty pooh. i can’t lie, she’s a good fuck”

matt didn’t like his comment, as he pulled his fist back to punch alex again.

alex, however, was quicker this time. he caught matt’s fist with one hand and swung at him with the other.

yeah, i was definitely wrong about alex.

“hey fuckers! i don’t know if you’ve noticed but my house is white. it’d be lovely if you didn’t get blood on it !” i yelled, making matt turn his head towards me.

alex took advantage of matt’s distraction to land another blow to matt’s face.

that shit looked like it hurt.

i then pulled matt away, placing myself between the two.

“you two need to get a fucking grip” i turned to alex. “walk away before i call the cops on your ass”

i turned to matt, “you’ve made your point, let him go”

matt gave him one last glare before gesturing alex to go. with that, alex walked off “your face isn’t the only place i left marks ” he mumbled.

matt started to walk after him, but i placed my hand on his chest to stop him.

i tilted my head at him, looking into his eyes. “it’s fine. just let him go” he looked at me, eyes softening, and nodded.

once i heard alex’s car door shut and him drive away, i pulled matt inside “come on”.

i brought him to my bathroom, pulling out my first aid kit.

“did he actually mark you up?” he asked, as i grabbed a wash cloth for his face.

“no, matt. he was just trying to get under your skin” i said as i ran water over the cloth and brought it to his face.

i began to clean his cuts, making him grimace. “i know, i know. sorry”

my tongue poked out a little past my lips, as i continued to clean his cuts.

he stared down at my lips the whole time, not saying a word.

“all done.” i said as i finished up. i started to reach over him to grab a bandage. “lemme just grab a-“ he suddenly grabbed my arm halting my movements as he studied my face.

my face felt hot under his gaze, as i tried not to show how nervous he made me. without another word, he grabbed my face, pulling me in for a kiss.

he kissed me with passion, like he was pouring all of his emotions into it. it wasn’t hungry or lust-driven. it said all the things that we could never say to each other’s faces.

he pulled away, pressing his forehead to mine. “what was that for?” i asked, eyes still closed.

“i need you to know that i care about you” my eye opened at this, staring into mine.

“i’m not using you for sex. i could never do that, baby. and i’m so sorry i ever made you feel that way. you are the most important thing to me. i can’t lose you, and i couldn’t live with myself if i let anything happen to you.”

he pecked my nose.

“i know that you’re capable of making your own decisions, and i’m not trying to take that away from you. but i know that guy and he’s not the type of person you want to be around. i can’t just watch him ruin you.” he moves a piece of hair out of my face.

“so i’m sorry that i just showed up here. i’m sorry i lost my shit. i’m sorry about the blood on your house” we both chuckled.

“but i can’t help it when it comes to you, you drive me crazy”

“hmm i don’t know i kinda like it when you lose your shit, it’s hot” i said as our noses touched.

he pushed my hips against my sink.

“good” he said as he went in for another kiss.

🌀🌀🌀🌀

hope you liked :)

masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @chrissturnioloswifey @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @sosmatt @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @soursturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4

[bloodibambiidoll]

Run, Kitty, Run

Summary: When Rafe catches you touching yourself without his permission he decides to teach you a lesson you won’t forget. (Technically part 2 to this blurb but can be read as a standalone) Wk: 3.1k

Warnings: Heavy Dom/Sub dynamics, pet play, predator/prey kink, choking, spanking, unprotected sex, leashing, mask kink?, daddy kink, hair pulling, breeding kink, overstimulation, sliiiight anal play if you squint. 18+MDNI! (Shout out to @babygorewhore for being my always sexy beta.)

Rafe bursts through the bedroom door, slamming it open hard enough that it hits the wall. The sudden intrusion makes you jump so high you nearly fall off the bed. You hastily pull your fingers that were inserted knuckle deep from your pussy, your wide eyes landing on your not so happy looking boyfriend.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He practically growls as he stalks forward, grabbing you by the ankle so he can pull you to the edge of the bed.

“Daddy I - I was just - you weren’t here and I -“

“Daddy I was just - you weren’t here - wah wah wah, quit that shit out. You know exactly what you were doing. Tell me.” He leans over you on the bed, his large hand roughly taking hold of your jaw.

“I was… touching myself without your permission… but-“ You’re sentence is cut short when Rafe squeezes your cheeks together so tight it shuts your mouth.

“No buts, kitty. You broke my rules, plain and simple.” He uses his hold on you to shake your head from side to side, tutting at you. “You know daddy checks the cameras when he’s out, dumb little kitten. It’s almost like you wanted to get caught.”

It’s not that you wanted to get caught, it's just that you didn’t think he would catch you. He was supposed to be out night boating with Topper and Kelce where he didn’t have service. You didn’t think he’d still be checking the cameras. He usually did when he was out, just to make sure everything was square at home. Also to make sure you were following his rules. Which usually you did. But every once in a while you’d try and test his limits, and today you were just so bored and horny. So you figured it wouldn’t hurt. Wrong.

“Daddy, I’m sorry! I’m really sorry! I just missed you so much and-“ his hand leaves your jaw in favor of your throat, squeezing just enough to make you shut up.

“The fuck did I say about excuses?” His hand tightens around your neck causing the little bell on your collar to jingle. The sound gives Rafe an idea, a devilish smirk spreading across his lips. “You know kitty, this collar looks real nice on you. I love the sound it makes when you’re bouncing on my cock... But I think we should really put this little bell to the test though. What do you think, baby? Wanna go for a little ride?”

“A ride? Rafe-“ He gives you a stern look, correcting you without words. “Daddy, I’m literally in my pajamas and in bed. So, no, I don’t particularly want to go for a ‘little ride’ right now.”

“Are you really gonna give me a fucking attitude? You wanna push your luck, little girl?” He practically growls, squeezing your throat once more before releasing it. You don’t even have time to gasp for air because he’s standing up and pulling you up by your shoulders in one swift motion. “Get your ass up and get in the truck. Now.”

“Can I at least get my shoes on?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes at you.

“No. No shoes. Get a fuckin’ move on, you’re only making this worse for yourself, kitty girl. You have three minutes to have your ass in the truck or I’m going to spank it until you can’t sit for a week.” He taps your cheek twice with his palm before turning away from you and walking towards the door. You scramble to your feet, following him like a kitten to milk.

“You’re seriously not going to tell me where we are going?” Rafe has been silent the entire ten minute car ride, completely ignoring anything and everything you’re saying to him. You gave up for a few minutes, but your patience is wearing thin.

“You’ll see, baby. Just think I need to remind you what happens when you break my rules s’all.” He smirks to himself, not even sparing you a glance. He turns the truck down a dirt road and continues driving until the road disappears and the only thing left surrounding you is trees. He pulls up to the edge of the tree line, putting the car in park.

“So here’s what’s gonna happen.” Rafe takes his seat belt off, turning towards you. “You’re gonna get out of this car, and you’re gonna run. If you can manage to keep away from me for more than ten minutes I’ll just fuck you into the dirt. If I get you before that? I’m beating that little ass with my belt until it’s raw.

“Rafe, seriously? I’m not even wearing shoes… I’m in my fucking tiny nightgown!” Was he serious? He’s done this one other time but it was pre planned. You knew where you were. There were rules put in place. And you had fucking shoes on.

“You’re seriously still giving me a fuckin’ attitude?” He weaves his fingers through your hair, gathering it in his hand so he can pull your head up to look at him. “I’d really consider checking that shit if I was you.”

He gives your hair a harsh tug, eliciting a moan from you before releasing you from his hold. You watch as he opens the center console, pulling out a ski mask and the little pink chain leash that goes with your collar. He pulls the ski mask over his head and smirks at you damn near sadistically, his lips looking plump through the slit in the black material. You clench your thighs at the sight. As annoyed with Rafe as you were, you couldn’t deny that the thought of him chasing you through the woods in nothing but your silk nightgown was making your pussy leak onto his leather seats through the thin material of your tiny thong.

“I’ll give you a two minute head start. Better start running, kitty.” He leans over you to grab the door latch, pushing it open for you. He looks over at you, his blue eyes roaming your figure before meeting your own. He brings his face close to yours and you almost think he’s going to kiss you. But instead he just smirks. “Go.”

Part of you wants to stay put. Roll your eyes, glare at him, tell him to fuck off. But the other part of you? The part that wants Rafe to shove you on your knees and fuck you into the ground? That part wins. You jump down from the truck, your bare feet landing in the mud. It wasn’t raining now, but it was this morning so the ground was still wet. You wiggle your toes in the brown muck before looking over your shoulder at your boyfriend. You send him a smirk and take off.

You aren’t a huge runner so you aren’t super confident that you’ll be able to keep away from Rafe’s large form for a full ten minutes, but honestly? You love it when he spanks you and he’s going to fuck you either way, so you don’t really care if you do or not.

You dash to the left, weaving through the trees to the best of your ability in the dark. The mud sticks between your toes and small branches scape against your skin, your heart is pounding in your chest and your thighs are sticking together slightly from how wet you are. You aren’t very far from the truck when you hear a branch snap near you.

“Here, kitty kitty kitty, come out, come out wherever you are….” A chill runs down your spine and the throbbing in your core increases at the sound of Rafe’s taunting voice. You turn on your heel and run in the direction you’re pretty sure is opposite from him. “Ohhhh kitty, daddy can hear that pretty little bell.”

You duck behind a tree, crouching as you try to calm your ragged breathing. You hold the little bell between your thumb and forefinger, attempting to get it to stop jingling against your chest. You hear the sound of shoes crunching leaves so you peek out from behind the tree. Rafe is standing with his back to you about fifty feet away. Part of him is obscured by the trees but you can see his broad shoulders filling out his black button up deliciously and the ski mask adorned on his head. You take the chance to stand and ease away from the tree but when you’re backing up your heel hits a twig and it has his head whipping towards you. You make a dash for it, weaving back through the trees.

“It’s only been six minutes and you’re already losing… I can see you, kitty girl.” You whip your head around and sure enough, Rafe isn’t too far behind you, stalking towards you with the mask on. You can’t see his face but you can just make out the feral look in his eyes and the Cheshire grin on his lips through the mask's slits. You let out a little involuntary yelp, turning back around to assess your surroundings. You see a cluster of bushes almost completely concealed by trees and rush behind it, slipping between the brush.

You put your hand over your mouth to quiet your breathing, listening carefully for any signs of your boyfriend but you don’t hear anything. You peak through the bushes, your eyes searching for him to the best of your ability in the darkness. You don’t see anything so you let out a shaky breath causing the little bell around your neck to jingle against your sternum. You grab onto it, frantically looking and listening for any sign of Rafe. After a few seconds it seems like it’s all clear so you start to shuffle backwards out of the brush, only to smack into something hard.

“HA! Looks like I caught myself a kitten.” Rafe’s arm locks around your shoulders from behind, using his grip to whip your body around towards him. He grabs onto your throat, that nearly sinister smirk ever present on his lips. “You’re mine now.”

He squeezes your throat, stepping his body towards you. He uses his grip on your neck to push your back against the nearest tree, his eyes roaming your figure. Your hair is a tangled mess, your nipples are peaked and prominent through the thin silky material of your nightgown that’s smeared with dirt, little pieces of twig and brush sticking to parts of it.

“Look at you, dirty little slut. Bet you’re so fucking wet from this, huh?” His free hand comes up between your legs so he can cup your lace covered core and sure enough his palm nearly sticks to the material. “Always so fucking wet for me, even when I’m chasing you through the woods like fuckin’ prey, aren’t you baby? Such a pathetic little whore… You did good, but it’s only been nine minutes and forty seconds. So, it looks like I’m going to have to spank your little ass still.”

“Rafe, are you kidding? It’s twenty seconds!!” You whine.

“Too fucking bad. I said ten minutes, I meant that shit. And the fuck did I say about that god damn attitude, huh?” His black fabric encased eyes drink you in as his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip. The hand on your throat reaches into his back pocket, pulling out the thin pink leash. He hooks it to the collar before tugging it downward. “Down, kitty.”

“I’m sorry daddy.” You kneel in front of him, looking up at him with wide eyes and a pout on your lips.

“That’s cute, baby. As much as I love you all apologetic on your knees for me, I want you on all fours. And your little innocent act isn’t gonna cut it this time, you’re still getting your shit wrecked.” He chuckles darkly as he takes a step back, yanking the leash with him. It causes you to lose your balance, your hands falling forward into the mud. He walks around behind you with the leash still pulled tight, cutting your airway off just right.

“I was gonna give you ten, but since you almost made it I’m gonna give you five.” You hear his belt buckle clanking before you feel the cool leather against the swell of your silk covered ass. He uses his hand that still has the leash wrapped around it to push your nightgown up before grabbing onto your panties and yanking them down to pool at your knees.

“Count.” The harsh slap of the expensive leather against your skin causes you to yelp and jolt forward, tightening the leash around your neck in the process, making you gag.

“One.” You whimper out, adjusting your knees so the leash is tugging against your throat less, but still tugging. The slight cut off in your air supply was making your head spin in the best way.

“Good, now say ‘thank you daddy.’”

“Thank you daddy.” Another smack lands on the same spot, the sound echoing through the trees. “Two, thank you daddy.”

Three and four come in succession, one on each cheek and you count each one, making sure to thank him after.

“Arch your back more.” He growls, pulling the leash upwards and using the toe of his expensive loafer to push against the middle of your back, causing your ass to arch further in the air. You hear the belt whoosh through the air before the final and hardest blow lands.

“Fuck! F - five! Thank you daddy!” You hear the sound of his belt hitting the ground before he’s kneeling behind you, one of his large hands gripping onto the fat of your tender ass. He pulls it to the side, spreading you open.

“Look how fucking wet that got you, your pussy is practically dripping. My little slut likes getting chased, huh?” He leans down, sinking his teeth into the already red skin of your ass before gliding his tongue over the bite mark. The tips of his fingers gather your wetness, shoving them knuckle deep inside you. He immediately starts fucking them into you fast and hard causing a loud moan to rip through you. “You fuckin’ like that shit? I want you to cum for me.”

“Yes daddy, yes I love it. Feels so fucking good. Wanna cum on your cock.” You push your hips back against his hand and he tugs on the leash to keep you in place.

“Quit squirming.” His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing quick circles on the sensitive bud. He curls his fingers against your sweet spot, pistoning them inside you just right. He leans down to spit on your asshole and it drips down onto your cunt, sending you over the edge.

“Oh fuuuuckkk!” Your walls clench around his fingers, a milky white gathered at the base of them.

“You wanna break my rules? Talk back? Act like a brat fuckin’ all week? I think this will shut you up.” Rafe rips your panties from around your knees, pulling them off your feet before leaning forward to shove them in your mouth. He pulls his cock from his pants, lining it up with your entrance so he can push inside you in one rough thrust. He doesn’t give you time to think before he’s fucking you at a brutal pace. “Look at you, pathetic little kitty all stuffed full and covered in mud.”

You moan around your panties, drool dripping down the sides of your mouth through the material. Rafe’s fingers find your clit again, circling it in time with his rough thrusts.

“Yeah, fuckin’ take that dick, slut. Gimme another one, cream on it.” He repositions his hips and the new angle has his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you. You cum hard, white hot pleasure coursing through your body. Mud coats your legs and arms, the motion of your body sending speckles of it up onto your face and baby pink nightgown. It’s all so animalistic and you don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on in your life.

“Another, cum for me again kitty. Be a good little whore for daddy.” You shake your head, groaning around the lace between your lips. You know what he’s doing, Rafe gets off on the power trip of overstimulating you until you can’t take it anymore, and even then, he keeps going.

“Don’t fuckin’ tell me no, cum.” His thumb comes up to circle around your asshole and that’s all it takes to have you cumming for him again. “Yeah, that’s it, gimme that shit, good little kitty.”

Rafe continues to thrust into you deep and hard, his fingers continuously circling your abused clit. He makes you cum two more times before he pulls out of you abruptly, grabbing you by the hips to manhandle you onto your back. He shoves his cock back inside you before picking the leash up again and resuming his brutal pace. He grabs the panties from your mouth, tossing them aside.

“Lemme hear those pretty little moans, kitty girl.” Rafe pushes the ski mask up over his mouth, leaning down to connect your lips in a bruising kiss. He tugs down on the leash while he thrusts up into you. He kisses down your jaw before biting down onto the juncture of your neck, certainly leaving an imprint of his teeth behind. He leans up on his knees, pushing the mask up off his head, causing his bangs to fall down on his forehead. He grabs your legs, hooking them over his shoulders so that his cock hits even deeper inside you.

“Fuck daddy, I want your cum, want you to fill me up.”

“Yeah? Want me to stuff you full of my cum? Maybe knock you up? Put a baby in you?”

“Yes! Yes! I want that so bad, want it so bad daddy.”

“Gimme another one first. One more kitty, you’ve been so good for me. Just gimme another one.”

“I can’t, it’s too much!”

“Yes you fuckin’ can.” He lands a harsh smack on your tit before twisting your nipple. You’re so sensitive that when the second smack comes on the other tit it has your walls clenching around his cock. “That’s right, daddy always knows what’s best for his little kitty girl.”

Rafe drops your legs and you hook them around his waist, he leans forward with one hand on either side of your head to support himself while he chases his own high.

“Yeah, that’s my dirty fuckin girl, look at you all fucked out on the ground covered in mud. You’re so fuckin’ sexy. Ah, shiiiiit, I’m gonna cum. Gonna fuck this pussy fuckin’ full.” He pushes his hips flush against yours as his cock swells inside you, ropes of his cum painting your walls. When he comes down from his high he’s panting, sweat from his brow dripping down onto your lips. You lick it off with a moan.

“Mmm that’s my good girl, you were so good for me, baby.” He cups your jaw, running a thumb along the apple of your cheek before placing a much gentler kiss on your lips. “You ready to go home? Take a nice bath, get all cleaned up?”

“Mhm, yeah daddy, that sounds nice.” You let out a fucked out sigh, nuzzling your cheek into his palm with a hazy smile.

Tagging ppl who asked & mooties who might be interested: @valeskafics @nkeyaaa @puzziepoppin @rafescurtainbangz @impmunson @voyeurmunson @dreamliners

[sanzaibian]

I'm loving the stories! I'm heading to Mexico in a few weeks with work, but hoping to immerse myself in the culture a bit. Can you help me out?

You find yourself in front of your local Spanish-language association. You thought that taking a few classes in Spanish would help you recover some of the long forgotten classes you took in high school… though in all honesty, it won’t likely do much. You’re quite old, now, so it means that your brain cannot learn new languages as easily as it used to...

As you enter, you see the Mexican flag front and center, along with flags of many other Latin American countries, as well as that of Spain. You walk up to the receptionist, and she tells you, directly in Spanish :

“¡Bienvenidos! ¿Cuál es el motivo de usted venida? (Welcome ! What is the reason you came here ?) - Er…” You try to conjure some of the very old memories, and only manage a “Hola !” Before going back to English. “I’m sorry, I don’t really know Spanish… I’m here to take classes, in fact.”

The receptionist nods, and thinks a bit before taking out a timetable.

“Okay, well, you see, I have a... beginner’s course of Spanish in a few hours… It’s not perfect because they already started in January, but I think you can still catch up if you work hard enough.” She says, with a perfect American accent. She is visibly bilingual. - Oh, in a few hours ?”

You are quite interested, considering that you did want some beginner-level courses, but in a few hours… That’s too short to just go back home and come back later, but that’s also too long to just stay here and wait without getting bored !

The receptionist notices your embarrassment.

“You know, we are also a place where Spanish learners and native speakers can hang out. If you want, you can go to the hangout room while waiting ?” She offers sympathetically. - Well yeah, I could do that.” You nod. It may be geared towards more hard-core learners, but you can always try to immerse yourself…

You go to the room she waves you to. It isn’t loud, but there’s quite a lot of people in it, all speaking Spanish. You go and find somewhere to sit, when, on your way, someone hails you.

“¡Hola! ¿Cómo te llamas? (Hello ! (...) ?)”

Your long-buried memories start churning, as you recognize the second sentence as meaning something like “What’s your name ?”. You think a while, and then, flash of brilliance.

“Me llamo Charlie.” You answer, giving out your name in the most American of accents.

Your conversation partner smiles, and speaks quite slowly to let you understand what he means.

“¿Cuántos años tiene?” You understand the sentence to mean ‘How old are you ?’ - Er… Soy… cuarenta y dos… años ?” You try, but he shakes his head. - No, ¡es ‘Tengo ventidós’ o ‘Tengo ventidós años’!”

You blush of embarrassment as he corrects you. Yes, you now remember that to mean “I am x years old” you say “Tengo x (años)”… you even remember the worksheets from way back when… Huh, it seems like it was less far of a memory than you thought.

“Lo siento…” You excuse yourself with sentence that came back strangely fast. - ¡Jajaja!” He laughs. “¡No te preocupes! ¡Hablar español es difícil! (Don’t worry ! Speaking Spanish is difficult !)”

You are surprised how easy it is to understand him. Visibly, you had more memories than you expected ! Then, that guy continues.

“¿De dónde es? (Where are you from ?) - Soy de… Mexico… Nuevo Mexico. (I’m from… Mexico… New Mexico.)”

You almost stumbled on yourself. There seems to be something wrong with that statement. You know you’re American, but something seems wrong…

“Ah, de... ¿Nuevo México? Pero tu acento no suena asi… (Ah, from… New Mexico ? But your accent doesn’t seem like it comes from there...) - Si, es verdad… (Yes, it’s true...)” You’re about to tell him that it’s because you’re American, but then you say : “La gente dice que tengo un acento de la Ciudad de Mexico. Sabes, Mexihco Hueyaltepetl. (People say that I have an accent from Mexico City. You know, Mexihco Hueyaltepetl (?).)”

Wait, why do people say that ? You never went to Mexico City ! Okay, yes, you did go there for the holidays, after all, your father lives there… Wait, your parents aren’t separated !

You get more and more confused as multiple versions of your history start competing with each other.

“¡Ah, tenía razón! Puedo verlo en tu cara que eres… eh… ¿mexiqueño? (Ah, I was right ! I can see by your face that you are… er… from Mexico City ?) - ¡Jajaja!” You laugh. “¡No se dice ‘mexiqueño’! ¡Se dice capitalino, o chilango si estás familiarizado! (You don’t say “Mexiqueño” ! You say “Capitalino”, or “Chilango” if you’re familiar !)” You don’t quite know where this knowledge comes from. It seems like something only locals would know… - Perdón, soy chileno, no lo sabía… (Sorry, I’m Chilean, I didn’t know...)”

You smile at him. Of course, he couldn’t know that, you’re familiar with these terms because you’re a Chilango through and through ! Born in the city, lived in the city ! Yet you furrow your brows, as something still feels off.

Somehow, you’re convinced that you’re American, even though it seems to be a more and more distant fact. Well, when you look down and see those tan arms, you know that you aren’t, like, a total gringo, you’re at least part Latino…

“¿Cómo es la vida allá? (How is life there ?)” The Chilean guy asks you, a torrent of memories coming back (?) to you. - ¡Es complicado de describir! Pero México es muy dinámico, ¡entonces siempre es interesante! (It’s difficult to describe ! But Mexico is very dynamic, so it’s always interesting !)” You think back to how frantic life is over there… and how much you love that. “Especialmente comparado con aquí, parece que esta citudad está muerta… ¡En México siempre hay un xochitzin con el que te puedes topar! (Especially when compared to here, this city seems dead… In Mexico, there’s always an xochitzin (?) you can run into !)”

As the Chilean nods, you keep getting quite confused. You know you’re from Mexico City, you know you’re American, yet somehow there is like… a piece of the puzzle missing. You keep on thinking strange words like “Mexihco Hueyaltepetl” or “ihni”, and you know it’s not Spanish, nor English – not that you would know too much of that language.

You continue thinking as your body starts feeling strange, as you feel it shifting. You put your hand on your forehead and sense your wrinkles relaxing. You feel quite queasy…

“¿Estás bien? (Are you alright ?) - Me siento un poco mareada… (I feel a bit dizzy…) - Sólo tienes que ir al baño. ¿Quieres que te ayude? (Just go to the toilets. You want me to help ?) - No, estará bien. Tlazohcamati. (No, it’s gonna be alright. (???)) - Okay… eh... ¿Eres indígenas? (Okay… er… Are you a Native American ?)”

You don’t answer the Chilean, only giving him a small wave to thank him. You find your way to the toilets, still queasy, and look at yourself.

You’ve got your usual short black hair, your nascent beard that doesn’t want to come along, your brownish tint, as well as your light muscles. Nothing looks out of place, yet something seems wrong.

Is it the fact that you are so youthful ? You know you’re quite twinky. Is it the fact that your skin looks weird ? You know that it’s clearer than the other’s because your mother is gringo.

You feel even more queasy, as you feel your entire body tensing. Memories come back of your time in the gym, but also of the time with all your xochitzmeh (bros)… Yes, you now remember how you’re the son of an American linguist and a Nahua man. How you grew up speaking Nahuatl along with the other kids from around Mexico City. How you started going to the gym to prove that gays aren’t cuiltemeh (sissies/fags). How you now cringe to that line of thought, yet continue doing it to attract guys.

As the pieces of your life go back together, your queasiness dissipates, and you feel better. You drink a bit of water, and then you go back to the hangout room. As you go in there, the Chilean hails you once again.

“¡Charlie! ¿Esta mejor? (Charlie ! Doing better ?)”

Laughable, “Charlie” is only the nickname your grandparents use when you’re at their house… Why does that guy even know it ?

“¡Mi nombre no es Charlie, es Carlos! ¡Carlos Zopiyactle! (My name isn’t Charlie, it’s Carlos ! Carlos Zopiyactle !)” You say in a very matter-of-fact fashion. - Lo siento, pensé que te llamabas Charlie… (Sorry, I thought that you were named Charlie...) - No es nada. (It’s nothing.)” You answer with a very Mexican accent, aspirating your ‘s’. “Pero, tengo que irme ahora. ¡Adiós! (However, I need to go now. Goodbye !) - ¡Adiós, Carlos! (Goodbye, Carlos !)”

You leave the room, go past the receptionist who smiles at you a bit weirdly, and make your way back to your grandparent’s home. You don’t really like going there, because you’re not very good in English, but eh. Pleasing your mom is a good enough reason.

Suddenly, you hear a very familiar-sounding sound from your phone. You open it, seeing a notification, smile, and answer it before calling your mother.

“¡Cualli teotlaltzintli! ¡Amo niyaz tlacualpan! (Good evening ! I’m not going to be there for dinner !) - Pff… ¡Aic timotlamahzehua nanmonahuac! (Pff… You never come eat with us !) - Nomati, pero tengo cosas que hacer. (I know, but I have things to do.)” You say, switching back a bit to Spanish. - ¿Zannima tihual mocuepaz? (You will come back soon ?) - Quema. Nantli, nimitz nequi. (Yes. Mom, I love you.) - Ohuihqui nimitz nequi. (I love you too.)”

You finish the call and smile. She doesn’t have to know that you’re missing the family dinners to be pounded. Those jocks on Grindr don’t know what your pseudonym “Moiztactlaca” means, but it sounds foreign, and they love it.

Soon, you’re going back home to Mexico City, but it doesn’t mean that you can’t take advantage of all the hot guys here in the meantime !

[pvrkacciosan]

Red Jacket

A/n: this is the official first F1 fic I'm writing, sooooooooooooo, also unedited so if there is any mistakes its because I haven't actually corrected them lol

Synopsis: A simple one of where Charles gets jealous when he sees his girl in any colour other than Ferrari Red after they fight.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc X Fem!reader

Warnings: swearing, slightly possessive Charles, tension between drivers

Word Count: 1.8K

You loved your boyfriend, you really did.

But over the past couple of days, You and Charles had really hit a rough patch, which was natural in any healthy relationship, but it still hurt none the less.

He wasn't just your boyfriend, he was your best friend, and you knew that no matter what happened you could and would always trust him with anything,

But even that fact didn't stop you from currently wanting to yell at him right now.

You could understand and appreciate the line of work he was in, especially with an upcoming triple header of races. Charles was stressed, and you trying to be supportive only seemed to get on his already shorter nerves.

Perhaps you had overstepped, but you might also be too stubborn to back down.

"I'm not going to apologise for making sure my boyfriend is taking care of himself Charles!" - You simply had tried to make him drink some water, Water!

"I can take care of myself Y/n, I don't need you to babysit me"

He turned away from you, his shoulders and back rigid, the muscles in his back squared out in his anger.

"Well I clearly fucking need to Charles, You're not taking care of yourself1 Perhaps I should hire a babysitter, Because I ain't putting up with this shit"

He had emptied out is pockets, dumping his phone onto the table in his drivers room, Even as you watched him, his back still you, It wasn't difficult to here the recognisable mutter of him swearing in french under his breathe.

It wasn't a language you spoke but swearing was universal, reaching for the door, Charles looked over his shoulder at you, barely turning enough to even look at you properly,

"Don't put up with it then" his voice was low and in any other situation you might have welcomed the heat that spread between your legs, but not right now,

The words struck you, upside the head as though a brick had been chucked at you.

"Fine. I won't"

Grabbing the handle you ripped the door wide, storming out, you slammed it so hard behind you that it didn't shut, instead the door rattles against its frame, swinging back over.

Charles wouldn't follow you out like this, not where there was the potential for camera's to catch you too fighting like this, whether that would matter right now or not, you weren't sure.

The staff all dressed in red parted for you as you walked, You missed Carlos as he attempted to ask you what was wrong, upon peering at your expression,

You didn't stop, Even through your haze you could hear him as he ran after you, gently grabbing your elbow he pulled you to a stop,

"Y/n, what is the matter?" there was genuine concern across the face of your boyfriends team mate, he examined your expression before looking back in the direction of Charles driving room,

"Nothing Carlos, it's fine" you quickly wiped away at the tear that rolled down your cheek, you didn't want to believe that Charles might have meant when he said for you to not, deal with this anymore, What had it meant in regards to the two of you.

It wasn't something you wanted to tread over, so when you pulled away from Carlos lightly, he didn't stop you,

"Keep an eye on him for me, Yeah?" He nodded, and then you were moving once more.

Leaving the Ferrari bay, you mindlessly weaved through the crowd of fans, reporters and staff milling about, trying to find an open space were you could simply take a second to rejig your thoughts.

The crowd which seemed never ending streamed on and on,

"Fuck sake." the curse left your lips as you smacked straight into someone, by accident.

A pair of hand extended out to steady you when you stumbled back from the impact,

"Easy there Y/n" when you recognised the familiar voice, some of the tension eased from you.

"Max..." you breathed,

His hands still one your shoulders, he peaked down at you in concern, You had known Charles for years, which by default you had also gotten to know the dutchman, despite everything, Max had always been good to you and had never given you any reason to be anything but friendly around him.

In the past, When you and Charles got together, he feared Max might steal you from him, but Max knew where the line was with you, and had never once tried to cross it.

Perhaps it was because of your friendship, that made it so easy for you to explain things to him. It was not your intention to cry in front of him, but as you spoke you couldn't stop the small whimper and quiver in your voice.

"I yelled at Charles."

You watched as Max's expression quickly turned to one of undertsnaind, and when he cast hs gaze back up to the surrounding people, with phones. He quickly pulled off his jacket, handing it to you.

You hesitated before slipping it on, he began to guide you around the crowd and through a set of doors, it wasn't until you saw all the mechanics that you realised you were inside the Red bull garage.

You stopped dead in your tracks, it felt weirdly wrong being in another teams garage. Max waited for you, and din't move you on until you looked a little more comfortable,

He sat you in the corner, his jacket still wrapped around you body,

"I've got to start getting ready for this race, Here's a headset, you can listen in to the radios, we can talk after okay?" he patted the top of your knee lightly, nodding you watch him grab you a set of headphones, before he darted off to start getting ready for the race.

It felt more then weird to be here instead, you would usually be sitting with Charles while he got ready, saying that your presence helped to keep him level headed beforehand, you couldn't deny that not being with him put you slightly on edge, almost like you couldn't quite get grips on what was going on around you.

But before you knew it, Max came back through, dressed and ready to drive. Out of respect you moved away while he had a briefing with his team, he came to grab you right before he began climbing into his car.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you stood to watch the screen in the garage, feeling the anticipation as the drivers began moving out for the formation lap. Your eyes going straight to the red number 16 car.

As the lights finally went out and the race began, your heart hammered hard in your chest watching as the drivers did what they did best. Race.

☽ - Charles - ☾

It wasn't the pole position, but it was a podium, A win for the team.

Charles should be happy, but without you there ready to congratulate him, it almost felt as though he had crossed at the back of the race.

Removing the steering wheel, and climbing out standing on the halo He waved to the cameras, spotting himself appear on the big screen for the fans in the surrounding stand to watch in HD.

As he unclasped his helmet, his attention snagged back onto the screen, Max, had got the pole position, so it wasn't a surprise when the screen switched to show the inside of the garage, where members of the Red bull team were celebrating, what did surprise him though, was spotting your all too familiar figure there amongst the other team.

Something about the notion made his blood boil, you looked slightly uncomfortable, but what tipped everything over was the jacket you wore, Hugging it too yourself in some version of comfort, and Charles knew exactly who it belonged too.

☽ - Y/n - ☾

You had emerged onto the throng of people moving about, trying to get a glimpse of the drivers who were taking in the feeling of their wins.

Getting closer to the barrier you spotted the red suit, just as he began storming toward the leading driver,

Those around you also seemed to tune in, as Charles body language wasn't exactly one of model sportsman's ship.

He moved towards the Red bull driver, being faster you managed to find Fred, who convinced the security to pull you past the barrier.

Charles was gripping the underside of Max's helmet by the time you approached them, the poor dutchman hadn't even had a full explanation or even time to unattached his helmet.

You were too far away to hear what Charles was saying, which wasn't a bad thing as perhaps the camera might not hear it as well, as you don't think it was the nicest thing when Max roughly jerked his head away from Charles, using both hands to roughly push Charles away from himself.

There was members of staff between them faster then you could comprehend, pulling the two drivers apart.

Choosing in that second was more difficult then it should have been, moving towards Charles, you approached carefully, he met your stare and it seemed to harden as it snagged on the jacket, Max's jacket, still around your body.

The security stayed near but back off as Charles approached you, he didn't seem to heed the camera as he stopped inches fro you,

"Take it off. Now."

You jutted your chin up, "Don't think your exactly in the position to give commands,"

"Y/n.."

"Still need babysitting?" you didn't hide the veiled sarcasm in you voice didn't want to when reminded of the argument.

There was a pleading in his eyes when he looked back to you,

"Ma chérie" he bowed his head, reaching gently to take one of your hands, "I'm sorry, truly," he cut his words short, when you leaned up to kiss him.

You couldn't really stay too mad, not when he had just gotten a podium. The fact he didn't ignore you, was good enough, when you two had argued before it never really lasted too long, having history made it easy to read one another. Provided there was communication.

He rested his forehead to yours, "Take it off."

You pulled back, looking to him now in slight confusion. Charles gave the back of Max's jacket a gently tug,

"You're a Ferrari girl, red is your colour. Forever and always."

Without breaking the eye contact you now had going, no doubt the rolling cameras of fans and reporter were catching ever second of this, you peeled the sleeves of the jacket off behind your back, and when you finally turned around to walk to Max with it.

Charles took it from you, you watched him push it into the other drivers chest, grabbing a Ferrari jackets from Fred, he walked back to your side holding it to you,

"Here." his word left little room for discussion.

Once you had it one, Charles couldn't help but look you up and down, giving a quick nod of approval he left a quick kiss to your forehead before he rushed off to catch up with the other drivers,

You watched on, All throughout the after race ceremonies, Charles continued to watch you, admiring you in the jacket, his jacket.

Hugging you arms around yourself you snuggled into its warmth,

the Red one fit you better anyways.

[moonlit-imagines]

Broken Curse

Peter Parker x reader

warnings:

a/n: idk this was supposed to be an entirely different fic when i started but now its very different

prompt:

Peter always held himself back. Everyone could see it. Everyone except him.

All those wasted opportunities because of those powers, but that’s all he thought he was good for now. He could have been so much more if he didn’t dedicate himself to Spider-Man. Right now he could be in college or working a job ehere he could make a real difference. But instead, he was living all on his lonesome in some run-down apartment, a ghost of his former self.

So now no one saw him. No one saw how much he held himself back because no one ever noticed him. In his new life, he kept to himself. No people to disappoint with his lost potential, no one noticed him anymore and maybe that was for the best.

You were in his thoughts, though. Mourned daily and nightly in regret of his mistakes. He sat there connecting all those things that went wrong. From becoming Spider-Man to an Avenger, trusting people he shouldn’t have, taking shortcuts and wasting precious time. He lost you and everyone he ever loved.

What hurt him most was seeing you from time to time, but as luck would have it, you’d managed to move into his building. A fate worse than death for Peter.

“Y/N?” He asked in the hallway without realizing. A stranger had just called to you.

“I…I’m sorry, do I know you?” You chuckled, which Peter knew was a nervous habit and you were a bit uncomfortable.

“N-No. Sorry.” He paused. “I was guessing. Not guessing your name, that’d be weird. The landlord told me about a new neighbor, I haven’t seen you yet so I was assuming that was you. Y/N, right?” Peter rambled out a reasonable lie to convince you he wasn’t a stalker. Maybe he was, he didn’t know if it counted when magic spells were involved.

“Oh. I guess that makes more sense.” You shrugged. “Yes, I’m y/n…and you are..?”

“Peter. Peter Parker.” He gave an awkward introduction. “Apartment 20.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Peter.” You told him. “I hate to cut this short, but I have to do some unpacking.” You began to walk away, but Peter was desperate to keep this going. He hadn’t spoken to you in months, and although you may not know who he is in this moment, he was the boy you fell in love with and he still loved you with all his heart.

“If, uh, you need some help moving anything, I’ll be here.” He timidly offered. You stopped in your tracks and took a moment to think.

“Actually, I could use some help with some furniture. The movers just left everything in my living room.” You explained and he smiled. “What?”

“You have a living room?” He laughed and you joined in, catching that his apartment was probably a bit smaller than your own. “I can definitely help you with all that, lead the way.” He was a bit disappointed you’d accept help from a stranger so easily, but he didn’t know that something felt familiar about him. You just felt he was trustworthy and genuine. That was it.

You’d initiated some small talk while moving the couch to the correct wall, the bed frame and mattress to the bedroom, and some shelves and tables wherever they might go, maneuvering around heaps of boxes labeled with all sorts of goofy writing. He liked the “BEDROOM BULLSHIT” box the most. But as he moved around your relatively nicer apartment, he noticed a stuffed animal that had fallen on the floor. A stuffed animal he had actually gotten for you several years ago. “Hey,” he picked the little bear up, “this was just laying on the floor. Cute.” Peter commented in some unsuspecting way.

“Oh, yeah, I can’t even remember where I got that thing. I’ve had it forever, can’t bring myself to get rid of it. It’s too cute to get rid of anyways, look at him.” You reached for the bear in his hand and when your hand connected with its soft fur, you felt an overwhelming sensation, this sickness inside as your head began spinning.

“Are you okay? Y/N?” Peter urgently asked, hesitant to make any startling movements. Your gaze jolted back to him and there was a much different look in your eyes than in the moments before. Softer.

“This can’t be real.” You mumbled. “It was you all along.”

“What?” He had no idea how to respond.

“Peter Benjamin Parker.” You spoke his full name. “I love you.”

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @johnmurphyisqueer // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @bad4amficideas // @sheridans-dynamos // @simsrecs // @prettysbliss // @skdkdkckfk // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @evilcr0ne // @v0idl1nq // @ruvaakke // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @amirahiddleston // @beth-gallagher22 // @brutal-out-here // @rqmanoff // @elenavampire21 // @mymelodymia // @pheonixfire777 // @deanzboyfriend //

[sevenop]

Billie Eilish x Fem!reader: There's nothing you could do or say

A/n: I just want to shove a revolver down my throat and pull the trigger with some indescribable pleasure of primacy. It would break my heart to see you die slowly, fade away and become a ghost of the past.

Inspired by 'i love you,' Billie's point of view. The person this is meant for, I hope you especially like this text. Let me know, dude!

Caution: mention of illness. I apologize if this offends you in any way.

There are only three hours left before the night flight to Berlin, and I still haven't seen you all day: waking up in the same bed together doesn't really count, because I'm always so short of you, you know that. I overslept godlessly, jumped out of bed in one merged impulse, like a Hellhound, and you just smiled, reminding with your calmness the mistress of the underworld - Persephone. You helped me get ready as quickly as possible, reducing my small gap in the schedule to almost zero, even though you just got up.: with slightly swollen and reddened eyes, battered, so homely in my clothes, which I always throw under your palms on purpose. In my clothes, you look so ethereal, protected, so... mine.

For you, I am a hasty whirlwind of branded clothes with a fabulous price tag and my own defenseless nakedness, demolishing everything in my path except you. I hurriedly screw up an awkward, such an unequal to your care "thank you", while my head is quickly filled to the brim with lines-schedules with the time of events for today. The usual madness.

"'Merci', we're still in France," you correct jokingly, perched on the edge of the bed and smile, with the very corners of your lips. Your pale cheek is imprinted with the silhouette of a pillow after sleep, and that smile on your lips is pure fissure.

Your hands twitch a little as you daintily dig your aristocratically skinny fingers into the fabric and take turns holding out the clothes you'd prepared for me while I was in the bathroom. You chalk it up to your over-indulgence in coffee these days, and give me the traditional neat kiss goodbye while I'm so reluctant to let you out of the protection of my palms, which look so good on your waist. You smile again, and again your smile is an immaculate fracture, your eyes a deafening abyss for the first time, unreadable to me.

"How are you feeling, my heart?" - I run my hand over your cheek. You're still too pale even by my standards, and you're also unusually cold. My own heart falls down a little, like a balloon under a weight.

"It's okay, Eilish." - You croak softly in my ear, and it feels so good, it gives me goosebumps. I bite playfully on your lobe, unable to contain myself, and close my fingers around your waist a little tighter. - I'll pack our bags, run or you'll be really late."

Something is really wrong, and I don't have time to ask: the phone in the pocket of my shorts is literally bursting with the trill of a dozen calls, and I'm really far behind schedule. So this "something" is sluggishly drowned out in the noise of my mind as I listen to the manager's plans, drive with my mom and brother from place to place, sit through several consecutive interviews, answering semi-automatically, albeit diligently sincere. Thoughts about you are silenced, resembling furniture still untouched by the hungry tongues of flame, on which the burning roof of the house immediately collapses: it is only necessary to "dive" me back into the car, bypassing the noisy and curious crowd, to not meet the usually extremely warm, understanding and peaceful lakes in mom's eyes - this lingering "something" clicks loudly, again burdening not only the head, but also the whole heart. Blinding sparks of worry gleam in her gaze, like lake pebbles catching the light of the sun through the thickness of the waters. Are there secrets again?

"Mom, is something wrong?" - the sliding door slams shut with a bang as soon as several managers and Finn deftly run into the salon, who is almost dragging the setting sun behind him, like a gel ball on a string: his shaggy red hair playfully winking golden lights in the light. The stocky guard taps the side of the van several times with a massive fist, announcing readiness, and And mom is twitching, as if someone fired a cannon - "Mom?"

"I... I don't think I'm at liberty to tell you just yet, dear." - She self-effacing, wanting to look away, but she doesn't let herself, just catches Finneas's gaze for a second, turning back to me.

"What do you mean?" - I frown, leisurely glancing over her: a little hunched over in her unnaturally, stiff, confused. Not at all like her. His heart began to rattle, climbing up his ribs and all the way to his throat, to lodge there in a lump of excitement and foreboding. Finneas coughs awkwardly, drawing attention to himself, as ungainly as our mother, except that his eyes are cold icebergs of concentration and utter seriousness, and his hands are resting on his knees in a tight grip, as if he's on the scariest attraction of his life. The blood in my arteries boils from the pressurization, from mine own blunt ignorance. - "Tell me, I want to know."

"Y/n hasn't told you yet?" - his voice sounds disproportionately ingratiating in the noise of people's shouts of adoration and the soft rustle of wheels gradually gaining momentum. The van moves smoothly back toward the hotel and It's not long before we'll be leave, all that's left is to pick you up, the rest of the faithful crew and a couple of our suitcases. Except to cut that anger-inducing Gordian knot of misunderstandings that has been wagging since I woke up.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" - the words come out like bright, rustling confetti from a naughty firecracker. I still couldn't help myself.

They look at each other in silence, almost shouting a heartfelt epitaph in the harmony of their voices. Finneas touches my shoulder gently with his palm, and mother takes my hands in her warm palms, and I feel a slight tremor creep through her. I feel that now I find myself along with them on this unknown attraction, that twists nerves and veins on its mechanism, being driven by fear.

"About her leukemia, Bils."

And the world immediately collapses to the size of an atom, ceasing to exist and sound at all. Boom! A shot from a shotgun at point-blank range, what smearing my bloody remains, the remnants of my mind on the darkened glass and the entire cabin. From the floor to the roof.

"What?..." - Like the four pearls clicked quietly on the stone tiles of the floor, as my the letters bounced lightly off the silence of the salon, echoing them. Even the small bunch of managers shut up instantly, looking in our direction with a kind of pity, as soon as this harbinger of doom reaches their ears. Leukemia.

"We don't know if it's really true, because the first symptoms could be conjugated by their similarity to simple severe overexertion, and the resulting diagnosis is a likely paperwork error," - Mom closes her gently fingers on my palms tighter, but my blood is already cold and I can't feel anything, as if I've ducked under the thickest of ice, - "We all just hoping that the new test show it's really true, but..."

"But she asked to be ready." - Finn's voice trembles, but he heroically finishes. - "Just in case."

"What?..." - like a wind-up puppet I scatter these long-suffering four letters again, and I don't have enough for more. In an elusive mind, a puzzle flimsily develops, answering a question that has been stuck into my head since the morning, and I see that smile of yours before my eyes - a delicate pink stroke protecting me from the catastrophe of Vesuvius: "It's okay, Eilish...". And immediately so wants seeing the world blurred, drowning in stinging salt from tears.

And I remember jumping out of the van, remember flying into the elevator, hitting the floor button a hundred thousand times in a few seconds just to get to the top faster, remember how kicking the door to our hotelroom with my whole body, catching you off guard. All of this is completely unimportant, a merged sequence that is so treacherously imprinted on my brain while being completely insignificant. You're sitting near the entrance, perched upright on your large suitcase: your sharp shoulders are outlined by my ridiculously colored T-shirt, and your long legs in baggy jeans are stretched out while you tap your converses socks against each other. You jumping up with a startle, like the devil out of a snuffbox under the force of a steel spring, when the door meets the wall with a distinctive slam. The unreadable morning abysses in your eyes are fathomlessly sad now, while I am devoid of words, all the letters of the alphabet, every possible sound. And you understand just so, without any of those empty air vibrations stealing up the already precious now time. You understand what they told me.

"It's not true," - I kneel down, not even closing the door behind me, I don't care. Wrap both palms around your face, but you just stare at me with a look of worldwide sorrow, cuddling up to me like a beaten kitten. - "Tell me I've been lied to..."

"I'm sorry, Eilish," - your soft whisper that hits me exactly in the solar plexus, - "It's true."

It's true. It feels like my guts have been left somewhere in an elevator office, a bloody trail leading right here to you. I was completely blown away.

"Billie, I-"

"Okey, listen, I'll help! I'll pay whatever it takes, I'll give them everything!" - My ligaments were tearing with excitement, turning my own measured whisper into a pathetic whimper.

"There's nothing you could do or say." - You raking me up into your arms, and without a second thought, I burst into tears: the world in front of me was starting to blur and my eyes stinging. Why? Why you? All you do is stroke my head like a whiny little baby while I crumple the fabric of your t-shirt with my hands, choking on my own despair. - "All we have to do for now is wait. We'll find out in Berlin."

"W-why didn't you tell me this morning?"

"I knew you wouldn't go anywhere after that, I didn't want to cause trouble." - You chuckle softly, and I just press myself into you tighter, my wet nose against your neck, my arms wrapped around you. Suddenly, if I let go now, you're gone forever? - "I'm sorry, I know I should have told you sooner. I just..."

"Please don't leave!" - The tears and nerves are starting to make me shake. The feeling of coldness behind my back mixes with a small flame of hope as your hands stroke my shoulder blades. - "Please, please, please..."

"I won't leave, Eilish," - your hand touches my chin, lifting my head to touch my lips with yours, and I gasp, memorizing absolutely every crack on them as if for the last time. - "I won't leave."

I don't remember how much I was hysterical, but the life-giving warmth of your hands lingered in my memory, which spread down my back, giving me like demonic wings, behind which I so want to hide you from everyone and everything. I remember how I collected your tears with my lips, resembling transparent snakes, as two worried heads appeared in the doorway - a copper-red and a light sandy one, it's mom with Finn. We leave the hotel, and I don't let go of your hand for a second: not when you're carrying a heavy suitcase that I'm trying so hard to take away, not when you jump into the car with me, not when we're sitting in line for a flight. Mom tries to defuse the situation, from time to time timidly and tenderly asking about how you feels, Finneas and dad offer all kinds of help here and there, and you just laugh it off, hiding behind this cunning, and even now beautiful in its falsity fracture playing on your lips. You squeeze my hand tighter, stoically swallowing your own excitement, devouring from the inside.

After a while, we are already climbing the airplane ramp, surrounded by the dense darkness of the night, and you are smiling again, when I look at you anxiously again: the smile that you gave me, even when you felt like dying. An old line, personally composed and now my personal nightmare in an instant, become much stronger than before. What else can I do but wait endlessly? Up all night on another red-eye I stared at you just as endlessly, when fatigue took over and you dozed off, trustingly resting your head on my shoulder. I silently memorizing absolutely every feature of your face to plug the abyss in my head. It's all infinity multiplied by infinity.

The porthole is gradually being colored in light blue tones. We have arrived in Berlin.

×××

A ragged breath bounces off the tiled walls, mixing with a loud splash: I emerge from under the thickness of the already almost cooled water, just to hang limply in the wide bathtub. There is an absolute emptiness in my head, shackle me with it's coolness, like this water around my body. So perfectly. I hear a light knock on the bathroom door, so sonorous, as if you are touching the wood with your very knuckles: they are slightly reddish, beautiful. Yes, I think I was too loud. When you don't hear an answer, you press down on the door handle and walk softly through to carefully sit on the side of the bathad. Excitement spreads in your eyes, like rainbow spots of gasoline on the surface of a puddle.

"Billie, are you okay?"

No, are you? It's so ironic that it's being asked by the person who is now in pathological danger more than anyone else. I'm supposed to be strong for you, but somehow I've suddenly broken down on my own, staring so blankly at that spotless white-washed ceiling for half an hour. Worthlessness. The water splashes again, makeshift waves rising slightly over the tub's rims, leaking onto the tile floor as I assume a sitting position and stare at you after all, eye to eye. Naked and insignificant. I can't do nothing with everything I have, I just want to shove a revolver down my throat and pull the trigger with some indescribable pleasure of primacy. It would break my heart if I see how you die slowly, fade away and become a ghost of the past.

"Yes." - My own hoarse echo, covering weakness.

"Your water's cold, a klutz," - you touch your fingertips to the cold surface and shiver. - "and you're also lying."

We stare at each other in silence, and then I break again like a branch of a flowering tree: rustling and crunching. You and the bathroom start to shake, so I cover my eyes to hold back the hailstones of tears.

"I'm sorry."

"Crying isn't like you," your hot palms touch my cheeks with indescribable care, brushing away the droplets of tears and wiping away the clear paths of sadness. - "Never been the type to let someone see right through."

You speak in my own lines, either from the fact that your thoughts are so close to my soul lyrics, or just to cheer me up. You know how much I enjoy it, how much it amuses me. But right now it's not funny, it hurts. You catch my gaze and your lips quickly fold into a sincere "sorry" before kissing my water-damp forehead.

"What will I do without you if this turns out to be true?" - I grab your wrists, pulling you closer, and you smile for the thousandth time in these two days, while the irises of your beautiful eyes reflect my praying glaciers, which melt in despondency, creating new salty rivers that flow between your slender fingers. You never let go of my face. - "What should I do, Y/n?"

"First off, get out of the cold bath so you don't get sick." - you coo, hiding mutual shards of sharp pain in a gaze that's as variable in its spectrum of light as a gothic stained glass window. - "And we'll decide the rest in a warm bed, okay?"

I climb out of the tub, stepping barefoot onto the bare tile, and you deftly throw a huge, soft towel over me and hold out another, smaller one for my hair.

"I'll be waiting, Eilish." - You kiss my lips, and I don't want to pull away, just hang on to your neck with both arms. The soft towel immediately falls to the floor, once again exposing the pale curves of my body, which you look at fleetingly, shyly.

"Stay with me, don't go, please."

And you stay, leaning patiently on the sink built into the nightstand, waiting for me to run a soft towel over the alabaster skin, collecting all the moisture, waiting for me to put on clean clothes. Silently staring, so attentive, as if memorizing.

"You're so beautiful, O'Connell." - You catch me off guard with your words just as I bend over to open the stopper in the tub. The water immediately swirls into a small spiral vortex, dancing over the drain, and your words make it an order of magnitude harder to breathe. - "My insanity.

We go back to the bedroom: I pull you with me, accompanying you confidently between the coffee table and other furnishings in the dark, and you follow obediently, understanding without any words. We lie down on the bed, and I immediately cling to you in a hug like a baby koala and you cover us with a heavy blanket and I exhale for the first time in two days as if nothing had happened. It would be so nice if it were true.

"You need to rest, Bils." - you gently pull me closer to you, though it feels like it's getting no closer, as I lavish light kisses on your face, -"You're tired."

"You still haven't answered my question."

You sigh heavily, as if your lungs are in a vise and your thoughts are trapped in a snare of fears and your own fear of choosing the wrong words. You look away, but I immediately stroke your face, bringing you back to me. I try to look warmly, even though I'm as scared as you are.

"Let's hope? And if it still don't, then... forget me, please."

I covered my eyes to collect my thoughts, but the same picture was in front of them: tourniquet, needles, thick syringe. I watch from the couch as your dark scarlet blood first spreads moderately along the transparent walls of the cylinder, and then quickly runs upwards, following the piston of the pressurized syringe. I fold my hands in front of me between my apart knees, and I can see them trembling with excitement. You told me not to go, and I just couldn't do it, I'm too worried about you. It's only when the thin needle catches a glimmer in the light, darting out of your vein, that I exhale, diligently watching the shiver. My head wants to twitch in a tic, but I don't let it. For your sake I coped then, I need to cope with the words now.

"Do you want to leave?" - The voice twitches so stupidly, echoing the heart that's throbbing behind my sternum. - "What about your promise?"

"I don't want to, but I love you," - and you don't smile anymore, just pull the corners of your lips down, exposing your own weariness. - "And I don't want you to get hurt even when just looking at me."

"Maybe won't you take it back? Say you were tryingna make me laugh." - I bump my nose against your collarbone, sending goosebumps through your body with my hot breath. - "It'll hurt me even more when I know you'll be alone, that I won't be able to be there for you when I can help in any way, Y/n."

"But now you feel weak and insignificant, I can see that, Eilish! And it's all my fault!" - You furies on, and I deftly catch your lips with mine for a soothing kiss. You exhale stunned, but immediately calm down, becoming so soft and supple in my arms. Only now do I realize how much you've broken yourself under the strain of waiting, realize I can't let go.

"I can't escape the way I love you..." - softly humming just one line, and the embers of hope are already kindling in your eyes.

"I can't escape the way I love you." - you whisper repeat confidently, quieting my restless seas in response.

And we touch each other's lips an infinite number of times, without any words or oppressive thoughts, because they are not necessary now. The excited exhalations, looks, and sensations mean so much more now. You drift off to sleep unnoticed by exhaustion, not breaking the safe warmth of the embrace, sniffle amusedly into my shoulder, and I finally smile with more than a serene smile before I drift off into the realm of Morpheus after you, gulping down a thousand hopes.

It's just over ten hours to the rubicon crossing.

×××

Finneas awkwardly grips the long fingerboard of the bass guitar, touching the thick strings with his fingers, not so much testing as seeking reassurance in the sound. He looks at me, and I shudder as I lean on the microphone stand. The stage lights flared up in one loud click, blinding me, making me frown.

"Are you ready?" - From afar, somewhere in the darkness, the cameraman's cheerful voice is heard.

"One second!" - Mom shrieks from backstage as I almost nod. Synchronously, my brother and I turn our heads in the direction of the shout, and this action also recurs by the rest of the studio staff. Mom is glowing brighter than any spotlight, Dad is almost dancing with a mixture of emotions, and you're standing backstage with them, clutching a folded sheet of paper in your hands. And you smile. At last, without a fracture, so sincerely.

Finn jumps up from his seat like a rocket, and I keep up: flying into your arms with the microphone in hand, making you stagger, but with light laugh.

"Negative." - you whisper gently in my ear, and I'm ready to burst into millions of brightest fireworks. - "The hospital really just mixed up the paperwork back then."

And when the rest of the family joins the hug with joyful hooting, and we all jump together like a football team that won a world match, the heart finally finds peace, getting into the precisely designed groove between the ribs.

You're all right.