#I love all of Taylor’s writing because it’s sincere and because it’s her

[itspileofgoodthings]

okay but Taylor’s prologue made me cry.

[ravensmadreads]

OK YOU KNOW WHAT

FUCK YOU

T_T

iron and charcoal

rating: explicit 18+ pairing: pero tovar x f!reader word count: 6.9K summary: Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana. But there would be no tomorrow. No future, no light of dawn – not without –  Her. He’d never heal because tomorrow would never come.  OR Pero falls hard for a princess and doesn’t know what to do with himself on your wedding night. warnings: angst, brief classism/xenophobia two very stubborn people, pero experiences one Human Emotion and cannot fully process it, arranged marriage, yearning, smut LIKE WOW, soft!pero that i broke my own heart with a/n: Thank you so much to @perotovar for this request: "congrats on your milestone, my love! so happy for you <33 i'm sending a little astrology 💫 + pero & #6 on the fluffy list OR #1 on the smutty list (whichever is speaking to you), because i wanna see your take on him 👀” – of course I chose the slutty one, just for you 😉 I’m actually pretty proud of this one - please consider reblogging if you like it too!

*the image in the header is for aesthetic purposes only and does not reflect the appearance of the reader*

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Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana. 

Sometimes before battle, the clatter inside Pero’s head goes silent. It listens. It waits. 

Other times, it roars. Memories of family, of dead amigos, of mujeres he fucked – they all buck and scratch for a chance to blaze across his mind like a dust storm kicked up by an unbroken mustang. 

He doesn’t know which one he prefers or which one will win out. They both have their uses, necessary states of mind to survive whatever is barreling towards him – an ax, a monster out of legend, some other drunken mercenary he intentionally pissed off. It’s an unconscious decision, yet one that has served him well so far. He wouldn’t be alive today if some deep, primal part of him knew what he needed to live through another battle. 

And yet, as he climbs those stone steps, his own trunk knocking against his hips as he climbed the sickly ostentatious stone steps to the top of the parapet, the handles starting to pinch his fingers, the barest – nearly invisible – tremor in his knees, he cannot fathom, for the life of him, why that singular phrase from his abuela played in his head like water swirling around and around a cenote. 

Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana. 

Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana. 

His inner voice, taking on a myriad of forms, of sounds and voices, never quite standing still, the one companion he could always rely on. 

Maybe it was warning him. Dust yourself off, boy, you know exactly how this was going to end. 

Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana. 

But there would be no tomorrow. No future, no light of dawn – not without –

Her.

He’d never heal because tomorrow would never come.

He feels sweat escape from the nape of curls at his neck, his cheeks warm and chest hot. Two more flights, he can manage two more flights. 

His abuela also liked to tell him something else: if hell doesn’t get him, his pride certainly will. 

It’s certainly what got him into this ridiculous farce in the first place. Because he can’t alchemize whatever is in his gut into vocalized syllables, he instead has to climb a truly incalculable amount of stairs, while carrying a ragged, torn trunk that weighs as much as his armor. 

Because he can’t form the right words, any words, about what he carries lodged beneath his breastbone for her. What draws him up and up and up and up because it’s lighter than hope, makes him lighter than air, and yet it clogs him up, chokes him out all the same. His pride, his vanity, cuts through it, through her – enough to keep him tongueless and dry but not enough to offer this lightness in his chest to her, for her. He can’t take the light out of him or else he fears what he will truly become.

So, he walks, he goes around and around on unforgiving stone steps until finally there is a door. He thinks about waiting, to catch his breath, but he knows he will just as easily turn around and go back the way he came, trunk still heavy and knocking against his hips, and that pride will be the death of him. So he keeps going, opens the handle, and makes abrupt eye contact with the two guards outside her door. They seem uninterested and unamused in his sweaty, stilted breathing, but by his less-than-royal attire, they easily clock him as one of their own; a man who fights to make his way in the world. The one on the left nods jerkily at him. 

What they see him as, what he will always be, is nearly the reason he kicks that fucking trunk all the way back down. Instead, he nods back, shoulders rounded, eyes down. 

“The princesa - the princess - is requesting the last of her things, to be b-brought up from the stables –,” he clears his throat, “drop this off for her and –,”

“Can’t let you in. King’s orders.” The one on the right sees him as something else – a foreigner first and foremost, their similar stations in life irrelevant. His bright blue eyes rove over Pero’s dark skin, dark hair, jagged scar, distaste and disgust smearing his already ugly features. But he had been dealing with men like these all his life.

“Bueno, you can explain to the King himself why his daughter’s belongings were lost and disregarded. I hear she’s very fond of the Italian prints at the bottom of this . . .”

The guards glance at each other, calculating way above their paygrade. Pero jostles the trunk as if to show he is not above throwing it out the window. 

“Fine.” The second one snaps. “Drop it inside and come back immediately.”

He drops his head, a good little foreign boy. “Gracias, señor.” 

The heavy wooden door opens beneath the iron lock and the instant he is through, he bolts it behind him. Waits to see if the guards notice. They don’t. Perfectamente – all the time in the world. 

All in the time in the world – for what? 

To fail? Again?

He stows the trunk in front of the door, extra time, a few seconds maybe – as if she wouldn’t just tell him to get out the instant she laid eyes on him. Only time will tell. 

Out of the atrium, another door, this one set deep into the wall. A last line of defense. He knocks, once, then twice, then waits. El orgullo chokes him again but fuck it, he’s come this far. He knocks again, knocks something in his chest free and, with it, spill the words:

“Princesa? It’s me. I –,” it throttles him, “princesa, can you open the door?” 

Silence. His heart sits, buried in that trunk. Then –

“It’s unlocked, Pero.” 

His heart in his throat, he opens the door to presumably what will be your marriage bed. And yet, by the state of things, you could have been moving out of it. Trunks and bags stack high against the far wall – those fucking trunks he made such a scene over because the unnecessary weight would slow them all down remain untouched, arranged as they had been when they had been first brought in. He didn’t quite know what to make of that, his thumb absently pressing into the callus of his other hand as he glanced around. It is a beautiful room – tall windows, etched in scarlet drapes, to match the scarlet curtains around the bed. With gold thread and impossibly detailed paintings of the countryside, it is fit for a princess, a some-day queen. This is where someone with royal blood deserved to be, not in the back of a hot carriage for weeks on end, surrounded by dirty, loud, rough men. 

And yet, with your hair down, expansive gown from the ball tonight replaced with a simple cotton dress, you could not have been more out of place. Pero’s heart lurches briefly, moisture seeping from his mouth, as he realizes this is the same dress he bought you when the two of you had been accidentally separated by the caravan and your previous dress had been ruined in the mud. He had no idea you still kept it, much less wore it ever again. 

But if anyone asked him, you look more beautiful in this than any silk or velvet. 

Instead of unpacking, settling into your new home and eventual role as wife, you sit hunched over at the intricately carved mahogany desk, eagle feather quill scratching against parchment. You finish with a flourish and look over your shoulder at him, your eyes annoyingly unreadable. 

“Yes?”

A stupid brute some may call him, but he wasn’t entirely without awareness. Observation of your customs and what you considered inappropriate only encouraged him: if you really didn’t want him here, you would never have let him see you in this state.

But it’s hard to remember that under your icy stare. 

“Y-your things, Princesa. The last from the caravan.”

Your eyes slide over him, to the trunk in the shadows of the atrium. He can tell from a single glance that you know as well as he that trunk is not yours, that no one told him to come here with it, and yet he did it all the same. Something flashes over your eyes but it’s gone by the time you meet his gaze again. 

“Thank you. I am, as always, indebted to you.” 

He hates your words, but warmth spreads in his gut at the way you say it. That’s how it’s always been between you and him – saying one thing but meaning another. He’d never appreciated a sharp mind like yours until he realized you wield it as he wields a sharp sword. 

There are many things he’d never even dreamed of before he met you.

“Then, this means you’re leaving, I suppose.” You draw your sword against him. The metal flashes in your eyes as you stand, one hand against the curved tip of your chair. A bronze halo rims your outline, the fire behind you burning bright and hot. He knows if he touched your shoulder, your neck, your skin would be wonderfully warm. 

He wets his lips. “Si. Our contract with your father is done.” 

You drop his gaze, your lips tightening for a minute, your fingers running through the carvings of wood on the chair. “Even with William in his state? Would it not be better for him to stay and recover? The journey home is –,” you pause, as though someone had thrown a hand over your mouth, “– the journey back east is long.” 

All the longer without you.

“William, he is not an idle man. Two days of bedrest is often all he can take.” 

You grin, in spite of this thing circling you both. “Unless he finds the nun attending to him beautiful.

“He finds them all beautiful.” 

Your smile expands wide across your bright face when you find him smiling at you too. 

This – if this is to be his last memory of you (his heart wrenches at the thought) – this is the you he wants imprinted on his soul: smiling and glowing by firelight. 

But as quickly as it came, that grin that warms him down to his bones, fades. In an instant, your eyes grow soft, your mouth twisted, jaw tight.

“Where will you go?” you ask, in the quietest voice you’d ever addressed him with. 

It pains him, physically aches within him, to hear the distress in your voice. He hasn’t even thought about the next contract, the next royal cabrón who intends to yank him all across God’s green earth to perform a task he can’t be fucked to take on himself. How can he possibly answer you? Nowhere, without you. To rot in a dark hole in the ground? Off a cliff? What answer would provide you or him any sort of satisfaction?

“Wherever the coin goes,” he says and the words scrape his tongue like bile. That ache in his chest spiraling rapidly, deep into his gut – like a poisoned limb he cannot amputate – he does the same thing he always does when he’s hurt: he makes others hurt until they leave him alone. “You do not have to worry, princesa, your new husband will keep you in such comfort you will never wonder where the coin comes from.”

He must be a truly sick man, for the knife-sharp glare you throw at him only knots arousal around the base of his spine. It tugs on something attached directly to his groin which, in turn, yanks the next words out of his mouth.

“He looked especially happy with you in his arms on the dance floor tonight.”

The icy shards in your eyes go brittle and crack. His heart races; he’s overplayed his hand. 

“You watched me dance?”

“All guardsmen were required to –,”

You shake your head, eyes bright and searing through him. “No. It was only the King’s Knights there in attendance.” 

Your hand trailing off the edge of the chair, you take a step forward and he feels his weight shift back onto his heels. But he remains firm. 

Sana, sana.

“Pero, why did you come here tonight?”

“To return the last of your things, princesa. What else is there?”

You flinch, as if he had raised his voice to you. What else is there indeed?

“Not even to . . .  say goodbye? Sixteen weeks on the road is an awfully long time to be around someone, only for them to . . . leave so soon.”

He locks his knees to keep them from shaking. “Do you wish for me to tell you goodbye, princesa?” 

There’s something painfully sad about the way you smile at him. “I wish for whatever would make you happiest.” 

Anger roars within him, hungry and hot, like a burn from a white flame. Why can’t you just admit it? Why do you avoid it time and time again? He knows he hasn’t misread anything you’ve sent his way, so why? Why are you so vested in torturing him this way? 

“Coin makes me happy and, now that I have it, there’s nothing to keep me here.”

There, that hurts you too, just as he meant it.

“Then leave.” They could make ice fortresses out of the strength of your bone-cold stare. “If you have nothing else to say, then take your goddamn trunk and get out of my sight.” 

The flame scorches him, ripping him apart and in his anger, making him cruel.

He bows to you.

“I imagine you will be very happy with your new husband, ranita.”

The term slips from his lips before he can stop it, but his throat and cheeks blister so badly, he physically can’t open his mouth to correct his mistake. Instead, he turns and strides towards the door.

He thinks he hears a gasp from behind him, a sharp sound like breaking glass – small, tinkling, tragic. It spears him through his chest, pierces his heart. 

He gets to the door and pauses.

If you have nothing else to say . . .

Of course he has something to say – words in English and Spanish and broken dialects gathered like poisonous lichen all churning in the boiling cauldron of his mind, but nothing will suffice – nothing reflects or compares to the grief he is already feeling, the despair, the anguish that has settled into all the fleshy joints in his body. Not his pride, but this, saying goodbye to you, this is what actually will kill him.

Every word imaginable crawls up his throat and rages in his mouth, presses up against his teeth, begging for something, anything to be let out, to be free, to tell you that he cannot fucking live without you–

Nothing comes through, but one single word.

“Don’t.” 

The fire crackles in the silence, a wicked god pleased at the display of carnage.

“What did you say?”

A dull thud echoes from where he drops his forehead against the wood of the door, all anger flooding out of his system. Do you have any idea the power you hold over him? One request, one tremor in your voice and his knees all but buckle at your altar. 

Fuck it. 

He always thought he’d go out in a blaze of bloody glory, but he’d never expected to be so exposed, so flayed like this.

“Don’t,” he repeats, his throat as dry as sand. “Do not . . . marry him. Please.” 

The vision of your great warrior slumped against the door frame, his neck bent, shoulders curled up to his ears has your already pounding heart leaping forward into a gallop. He is defeated, laid low. You watch his guts all but pool out on your hearth. 

He looks about as hopeless and anguished as you feel. 

Your soldier, your man of iron and charcoal, goes blurry in your eyes.

“And what would you have me do, Pero?” Your plea is damp, malleable at the edges. You press your hand flat against your chest, near your throat, as if you could pull the grief lodged there with your fingers. “I have been engaged to this man before I was even born. How can I stop this?” 

“Fight.” The word snarls against his bare teeth. He turns, his eyes liquid ink, and suddenly he has you by the shoulders. His thumbs nervously skitter around the curve of your shoulder, gaze just as unsteady and unfocused as it wavers between your hands, your earlobe, your neck. "Where is my brave girl who fights for what she wants, hm? Fight – for me, please.”

Fight, he asks – but in spite of him or because of him?

You lay your hands on the silver shine of his breastplate, watch as they rise and fall with his steady flow of breath. How many nights had you woken up against that shine, in the crook of his arm for warmth, or protection? You didn’t cherish it at the time because you never knew when it would be your last. 

“Why won’t you fight, princesa?” His voice is low, strained, the groan of a wagon wheel before it breaks. You meet his gaze and the exposed look on his face, softening every line on his mouth and around his eyes, nearly sends you into hysterics. You swallow the tears, swallow the hook in your throat as your fingers curl around the clasps of his cape. 

"Because if I don't fight then I can't lose.” His fingers slip from your shoulders, to your elbows, to your waist. You inhale and the scents of warm leather, oil, and ash flood your mouth. The tip of your nose is inches from the scruff of beard against his cheek, the ruddy brown of his sun-drenched skin. He has curled you into him and this, you do not fight either. His massive palms map your back, against your skin, but without any urgency or control. “If I can’t lose, that means I don’t lose you. You'll just be . . . gone."

That last word is a lie. It hangs in the air like a sweltering humid rain and you both know you’re lying. He has you wrapped up in his arms, you didn’t stop him even for a second, and you are all too aware that it would take some great, insidious alchemy to ever truly tear him out of you. 

You stare at his silver collar, defiant against the waves you had managed to shackle down until this very moment: a wave of hopeless crashes into you, a wave of heartbreak, a wave of helpless that fills your eyes to the point of spilling with that very same salt water.

He touches your cheek delicately, fingers rough with callouses, and the floodgates break open with a sob. 

“Preciosa,” he rumbles softly against your hairline, “hush. You break my heart with your tears.” 

“Do not mock me, Tovar. Not now.” you sniff, trying to turn your face but his wide hands catch you around the cheeks.

“You are beyond mocking. I’d show you my heavy heart but I do not wish that weight on anyone.” The snag of his rough thumbs against your cheek draws your watery gaze to him. His mouth is a flat line, barred against whatever climbs his throat, but his eyes move like mercury across your nose, your eyelashes, the arch of your cheek. Your fingers wrap themselves around his wrists, a grounding agent against the waves that threaten to pull you under. 

“Pero, I –,”

“I have fought you, tooth and nail, for days without end. Every favor, every breath, you have forced them from me. I fight my own mind when I sleep at night. Sueños, always of the same woman.” He smears away the tears with his thumbs, gently, sweetly, before pressing his lips to your wet flesh by his knuckle. He inhales deeply, eyes closed, mouth hovering stationary above the skin of your cheek. “You fight me every step of the way . . . and I am so tired of fighting.” 

For all your struggling, for all your tearing and clawing and snarling against the blooming in your chest, nothing is as easy as it is to turn your head and press your lips to his. 

The brush of his bristled mustache against your upper lip. His warm, rough palms holding you steady. His lips soft and hot. You are overwhelmed by the scent of him.

There is nothing like, and nothing will ever be like, finally kissing Pero Tovar. 

All it takes is the movement of his hands from your cheeks to your lower back, the light trace of his tongue against your lips, and the yearning you’d been smothering for weeks now roars to life. His hands squeeze your hips and you can suddenly barely breathe. 

“Pero–,” the noise in the shape of his name that escapes you is near a whine, begging. He nips at your lips, hand firmly at the cup of your jaw, mouth now rough and insistent, and your fingers claw up his neck, wrapping themselves in his dark curls. You tug, nails scratching his scalp, and he groans into your mouth as if you’d just kneed him in the gut.

A thread-bare gasp of your name from his lips splits you from him, then his hand on your hip and the back of your neck pushing you backwards gives you enough air to breathe – to think.

"Your husband will know you're not a virgin,” Pero warns, breathing hard and fast, his eyes like black flints, “if we go on." 

You curl your fingers around his neck, dragging your mouth near his jaw, the soft skin at the edge of his ear.

"Then he will also know my heart is not his either.” You ask everything of him with this. His armor blocks his warm body from you – you want to sink inside his hard shell. “If you’ll have it.”

He is not himself, half-human with an inhuman want, with the snarl that leaves him. 

“Don’t make such promises, dulzura –,” A threat, a dog forced to expose its underbelly, fear radiating like the pain from a broken bone. Your fingers dig into the buckles of your cape, steadying you against a sudden terrible awareness that bloomed, purple-bruised. 

“Unless you don’t want –,” 

The desk rattles when your hips break against it, the force of his kiss enough to topple over your inkwell, spill rolls of parchment to the floor. The wood groans under your weight when he gathers the thick swell of your thighs in his hands, heaves you onto the flat surface, and spreads your knees around his waist. He is as hard as the iron on his chest. 

“Can you feel how much I want you?”

A frantic sigh of relief, a groan shared between two pairs of lips, seeking skin and warmth and other hungry places. 

He drags you onto his chest, your skirt bunched up around your hips, the rings of his armor digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, his mouth covering yours in wet pulls, and he stands up right, as though you weighed less than his sword. 

A stumble, and he spreads you out on the velvet covers of your marriage bed, his hands imprinting on your hips, your knees, the supple meat of your calves. The touch of him on your bare skin feels like the licks of flames, the smoke of arousal blurring your awareness and dragging your eyelids half-closed. On his heels at the edge of the bed, the flint shards of his eyes drift over the bones of your ankles, the bend of your knee, your heaving chest, hair in snarls around your neck and caught behind your back, and finally to your cunt, hidden by the folds of your dress. 

Velvet hums as you slide your ankles to the curve of your ass, widening your legs, parting your knees. His lips part open, dark want etching every line of his face. You feel the wet linen of your dress cling to your achy cunt. He swallows, unbuckling his cape one latch at a time, his eyes nowhere else. The metal clatters as it falls to the floor.

Piece by piece, the chinks in his armor fall away. Piece by piece, he is revealed to you. Your hands rise up, up your thighs to your knees, your thumbs rubbing soft circles. He watches, never tears his gaze away from your sticky hole, his nimble fingers working away the buckles and knots with practiced precision. You can see it in his eyes – memories of bedrolls by firelight, of such a deep painful, yearning ache, separated only by thin tarp, they are a physical weight beside you in this marriage bed. 

You see them because they’re there for you too. You see them because you've been here a dozen times, on your back, legs spread wide, your hands circling but never dipping, waiting. Wanting. For him. 

His bare chest is warm, the wings of his ribs expanding around short, half-drawn breaths, as he crawls up into your pliant mouth. The kisses are slow, like before, with a crackle of heat just beyond them, his hips slipping into the cradle of your thighs, the wet warmth of you separated by the thin linen of your dress. He sucks the tendon below your ear, a whine slipping out of your mouth, fingers spreading over the harsh planes of his back, and his cock bobs against your thigh. 

Pero is bare and warm and entirely yours. All man beneath the sweltering armor. 

“Amorcita,” he drips into your ear, kisses smeared against your collarbone, your mouth, your earlobe, “amorcita, amorcita . . . ranita, let me take you.” 

He starts to use teeth, a harder nip behind his kisses, when he dips down to your chest. A wide palm with stocky fingers grasps at your breast and it’s a startling sensation for you both. 

“Soft,” he moans before licking up under the supple curve of your breast, mouthing at what his tongue missed. He slips your erect nipple into his mouth and twists it between his teeth. “Sweet,” he murmurs with your nipple firmly between his lips. 

This is unlike anything you’ve felt before. You deliriously thank the gods that he hadn’t touched you like this on the road; you would have kept him, your own wild animal, in bed without rest for days on end.

Pero plucks just as aggressively at your other breast, the spit-wet nipple that preoccupied his mouth verging on purple and aching. He cups you from the outside this time, squeezing and massaging, ringing your nipple with his tongue until your back bows and you let out a whine that has his eyes flickering up to you, the scent of wounded prey filling his nostrils. 

That whine of pleasure elongates into a whimper: “please.”

“Tranquila, ranita.” His touch is softer around your bruised tits, but he keeps one hand bagging the weight of your breast while the other slips beneath your skirt.

The pads of his fingers brush your creamy cunt and with a yelp, you grab him by the wrist, your eyes open with a familiar emotion he draws out of you: rage.

“Pero Tovar, if you value your life you will take me under the covers and put your —,”

He chuckles, his cheek against yours, nose rimming the velvet hairs on the ridges of your ear. The vibrations liquify the tension in your bones, loosening your grip. Your eyes flutter, slick obviously running down his fingers. “Ranita, I don’t think you know how you want to end that sentence..”

His words roll like honey over the heat of your skin. It makes your skin tremble. Your grip tightens on his wrist and you roll your hips, your swollen clit finally relieved by the pressure of his palm. 

“Oh, oh, Pero—,” 

With a grunt, he shuffled closer, elbow by your shoulder and he cups your entire wet cunt in his hand, pushing the heel of his palm flatter against you. You cry out, a sparkling kind of pleasure radiating out from where his hand rests. You buck your hips faster, complete release flickering through your outstretched hand. 

“Can you come like this?” You nod, eyes squeezed shut as you barrel towards escape, and you feel him shudder next to you. You are intimately aware that he’s rubbing his cock on the crease of your hip bone but that only drags you faster towards the light. “Then come, ranita, come and I’ll fuck you.” 

The wet, curling heat growing between your legs descends, then in a bright snap, explodes across your body. 

“Fuck!” You tear open your eyes to find them damp, Pero’s massive hand cupping your cheek towards him, his stallion eyes dark as his fingers drag on the soaked material of your dress, your hips slowing. 

“Amorcita, breathe.” The words are torn from his chest, all cock-suredness gone from his frantic gaze. You gulp in air, the weight of his body over yours grounding and smothering you all at once. He pulls his hand away from you, rides it up your thigh to your waist, looking for something to hold onto. He strokes his thumb once against your overheated skin and you’re wriggling up out of your dress. 

“Help,” you hiss and his fingers nearly tear the fabric off you.

With a few undone buttons, you shiver out of your dress, the slick-drenched spots catching on your warm skin. He flings it behind him, near the fireplace. 

He takes you barely beneath the thick covers before you welcome him back to the heat of your open legs. 

But instead of reeling back and plunging his aching cock into you, he takes the time to kiss you. To praise you in all the ways he fears his mouth will end up short. He kisses you, grateful, reverent – wonderful to be swallowed by but also a distraction.

When he lifts your knees by his waist, your hips automatically tilt towards him and for the first time, you feel his red, sore cock between your tacky lips. The dual sensation nearly drags you over the rack of delectably delicious pleasure, as does his worn, broken groan in your ear. 

“More, please, don’t stop.” You cry against the bristles of his beard, his hand dropping between your sweat-slick bodies, finding yours already there to guide him. The press of him spreads you open, filling you one sinking notch at a time. The sensation of your pink, dripping walls moving to take more of him in has you arching up into his chest, nails dragging into his back. His dry lips stifle the moans escaping from your mouth. 

Pero takes both of your hands in his, dragging them above your head, his fingers locking your palms together as his hips roll forward. “Cálmate, amorcita, cálmate,” he murmurs between distracted presses of his mouth against your chin, your cheek, his breathing heavy and stunted. You writhe, pinned open by his hips and his hands, his cock filling you all too slowly and not fast enough. 

With the last few inches, you take him completely, your cunt throbbing, heart pounding, intoxicated by the sensation of being so maddeningly full. Pero drapes over you, his head tucked into your neck, forearms straining with the tension of gripping your hands tightly. 

“Santa madre . . .” He is not a warrior right now. He is but a man, cunt-drunk and heaving. 

His name is pushed out of the bottom of your lungs with the first swing of his hips. You cling to him, knees at his ribs, nails pricking his spine, unwilling to let even an inch of space between your bodies. But this becomes increasingly difficult as his thrusts gain speed. His flushed lips stain a sticky line against your jaw, down to your throat, and he releases your hands, the oak of the bed creaking beneath the force of him drilling down into you, he props himself up on his palms, his shoulders bent and curled over you, biceps straining, hairline damp, eyelids fluttering. The scar on his cheek is flushed pink.

“Look, amorcita, look how well you take me.”

His words tear you from your nebulous high, the grit of them forcing your head down to the obscene squelch beneath the sheets. The thatch of rough curls over his groin is drenched in slick, his thick cocked soaked to the point of shine as it drives into you again and again. The heavy draft of breath the sight draws from him, the tap of his cock against a place so deep you didn’t know your body possessed, draws the spooling bliss as tight as a wire. 

Your trembling thighs squeeze him tighter, that hot pressure rendering you speechless, except for the most pathetic whine. Please, Pero, please, you think, you mutter, you whisper, your body rocking damp against the sheets. 

With a sudden snarl, he takes the chunk of your hair at the base of your head flat in his fists and tugs. A shoot of bright pain sparks bliss down to your tight and bruised nipples, and you cry out again. 

“Stop fighting, puedo sentir cuanto la quieres. Let me have it.” It is the following word that splits you open like lighting carving apart a tree. “Please.”

The wail that you release is the rush of gooseflesh over your skin alchemized into audible sound. Heat radiates through you, sucking the air from your lungs, your vision going blurry, then black as you clamp your eyes shut against the rush, the final release, that curls you into his arms. His warm, flushed arms, shaking with strain. A final wobbly thrust or two and his elbows are buckling, sweat-drenched chest pressing into your own.

Distantly, you are aware of the warm, slick drip down your thighs, his cock pulsing the last drops into your cum-flecked cunt, and the dangers this sort of intimacy poses. You can’t gather enough breath, enough sense to settle the spinning room, to worry or even care. 

Your his, and he is yours. That is all that will ever matter. 

The crackle of wood burning is the only other sound than your ragged breaths, the silent roll of sweat from sticky hot skins into the bedsheets. The stone walls of the castle’s room entomb you together for a brief stretch of infinity.

Pero moves and you think he’s going to back out of you, but instead, he merely adjusts, his head fully on your chest, thick fingers clutching your bruised waist, the shift of his cock pushing more of his release out of your oversensitive cunt. But you’ll take overstimulation over his absence every time. You run your fingers through his damp curls and he hums. 

“I’m sorry,” he huffs into your humid skin. “I’m sorry I let my pride keep us apart for so long.” 

You grin lazily to the ceiling, your breath settling as affection takes its place in your chest. 

“You were not the only one blinded by vanity.” 

“But I’m not blind. Not anymore.” He lifts his head, eyes as dark as your spilled inkwell. “I am never letting you go.” 

You smile at him, fingers soft against the back of his neck. “I don’t plan on wandering away.” 

His oil-black gaze drops to your lips and he leans forward to take your mouth against his. Gentle, but with the promise of more. 

“Mi ranita,” he purrs to break the kiss. 

“You call me that all the time, Pero. What does it mean?”

At that, a nearly shy expression crosses his face. He shakes his head, shifting onto his elbows to lift off you. “I can’t tell you. It will ruin your good mood.” 

You gasp, offended, and you grab him by the ear and twist. He chuckles through a grimace. “You will tell me what that means, Pero Tovar, if you value your appendages.” 

“Órale, princesa, retract your claws and I will tell you.” 

You release your grip and settle against your pillow. Grinning bashfully, he kisses your neck briefly.

“Remember that I love you after I tell you this.” 

Your heart nearly stops, the absence of a steady beat nearly drawing tears to your eyes but you hold firm. You breathe deeply against the fluttering in your stomach and pin him with your glare. Of course, this is how he would profess his love to you – when he’s trying to get out of trouble. 

“Tell me, Tovar!”

He chuckles again and preemptively picks up your hands. He kisses the inside of your palms, settling himself between your thighs. 

“It means little frog.” Your mouth falls open in a gasp and you struggle to yank your hands back from him, hissing like a tea kettle, but he uses his weight to press down on you. He nips at your nose. “I call you that because when you’re upset with me, much like you are now, you puff up like a bullfrog, your cheeks like this–,”

He rounds his cheeks full of air, crossing his eyes, and you simply cannot take the slight anymore. You push roughly against his gut, the breath trapped in his mouth escaping in a hot puff, and you twist him onto his back. He lets you, of course, his bold, full laughter rendering him defenseless. His body shakes beneath you, his beautiful eyes squeezed shut, his mouth open wide as he laughs and laughs and laughs. You take him by the wrists and push his limp hands over his head, pinning him as he had you. You pinch his chin with your teeth, your messy cunt over his stomach, as his laughter subsides. 

“Have you had your fun yet?” 

“Barely,” he chuckles, turning his big nose against your cheek and inhaling. He hums.

“Is that all I am to you? A joke?”

Pero opens his eyes, sober as death rattle. He takes you in, not in a hungry, all-consuming way, but in a look that speaks of awe and rapture.

“You are everything to me.”

You sigh, releasing his hands and curling into his chest. He kisses the top of your head, your eyes on the roaring fire. His thumbs rub your shoulder blades, trace the lines of your spine.

“You’re so very I love you too.” 

His wandering against the expanse of your back stills, just for a moment, before his fingers slide into your hair, around the nape of your neck, holding you to him with the intention of keeping you there forever.

“I know, ranita, I know.” 

He watches you sleep as the sky lightens beyond the tall windows on the opposite side of the bedroom. The dying fire traces your edges in gold, settling heat in the curve of your lips. 

His heart lurches with the wanting of you.

There’s more terrible things to come, he knows that. The plan the two of you concocted in the early morning hours will be dangerous, deadly even. But dying together instead of living apart would be much more tolerable, you told him earlier that night, your hand on his chest. 

He would kill if you asked. He would kill, even if you didn’t, to keep you safe and by his side. You’ve proven yourself capable of living a life away from this spectacular opulence, but it pains him to know he will never be able to give you anything nearly as lovely as the velvet dresses in the closet, the gold jewelry in your trunks. 

Instead, all he has to offer is himself. His strength, his hands, his heart. It’s his own fear that tells him that’s not enough, because you remind him again and again that’s more than you ever wanted. 

He traces the curve of your cheek with the hovering pad of his finger, brushing your hair away from your face. How he ended up so lucky with your love, he’ll never know, but he will spend the rest of his days proving that he’s earned it. 

You stir in your sleep, sensing him above you, and he hates to steal even a few minutes of blissful sleep from you, knowing the endless nights that are coming. When he steals you away from all that you’ve ever known. 

The sleepy grumble in your throat resembles his name as he curls around you, but your eyes remain gently closed. He pulls you against him, the air that leaves your mouth and sits between your chest and his something he covets with his whole heart. 

I love you and I’m disgustingly lucky and I love you. 

He is a man made of dust, serving men made of silver. He is a man of dust, loving a woman made of gold.

El orgullo? No, Abuela, his ranita will get him first, last, and every time.

+

Translations:

Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana. - This rhyme is typically said to children when they have just hurt themselves. The parent (or grandparent) usually rubs the part that is sore and sings this little tune. Literally translates to: "heal, heal, little frog’s tail. If you don’t heal today, you will heal tomorrow."

el orgullo - pride

dulzura - sweetness, romantic connotation

amorcita - little love, romantic connotation

Tranquila - quiet, as in "be quiet" or "relax"

Cálmate - take it easy, or take it slow

puedo sentir cuanto la quieres - I can feel how much you want it/love it

Órale - okay, or an exclamation expressing approval or encouragement.

ranita - little frog, but you knew that already ;)

the rest are cognates (or familiar words) which you can probably guess the meaning of, but feel free to message me if you don't know!

[evermoredeluxe]

In Summation by Taylor Swift

At this hearing

I stand before my fellow members of the Tortured Poets Department

With a summary of my findings

A debrief, a detailed rewinding

For the purpose of warning

For the sake of reminding

As you might all unfortunately recall

I had been struck with a case of a restricted humanity

Which explains my plea here today of temporary insanity

You see, the pendulum swings

Oh, the chaos it brings

Leads the caged beast to do the most curious things

Lovers spend years denying what's ill fated

Resentment rotting away galaxies we created

Stars placed and glued meticulously by hand next to the ceiling fan

Tried wishing on comets.

Tried dimming the shine.

Tried to orbit his planet.

Some stars never align.

And in one conversation, I tore down the whole sky

Spring sprung forth with dazzling freedom hues

Then a crash from the skylight bursting through

Something old, someone hallowed, who told me he could be brand new

And so I was out of the oven

And into the microwave

Out of the slammer and into a tidal wave

How gallant to save the empress from her gilded tower

Swinging a sword he could barely lift

But loneliness struck at that fateful hour

Low hanging fruit on his wine stained lips

He never even scratched the surface of me.

None of them did.

“In summation, it was not a love affair!”

I screamed while bringing my fists to my coffee ringed desk It was a mutual manic phase.

It was self harm.

It was house and then cardiac arrest.

A smirk creeps onto this poet's face

Because it's the worst men that I write best.

And so l enter into evidence

My tarnished coat of arms

My muses, acquired like bruises

My talismans and charms

The tick, tick, tick of love bombs

My veins of pitch black ink All's fair in love and poetry

Sincerely,

The Chairman

of The Tortured Poets Department

[highvern]

Track 1: All of the Girls You Loved Before - Taylor Swift

“All of the girls you loved before, Made you the one I've fallen for // Every dead-end street, Led you straight to me”

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: established relationship, past jealousy

Length: ~500

Note: First part of the Mixtape Series! Wooooo! Very fun to write and looking forward to everyone's reactions to the other parts of the series. Stay tuned!

Like, comment, reblog, enjoy!

Mixtape Series: Me & You Masterlist

main masterlist

This blog is intended for 18+ only! MDNI or you'll be blocked!

“I’m fine, Cheol.”

Seungcheol taking you out to celebrate your promotion quickly devolved into an awkward dance around the elephant in the room.

One of his exes sat across the room, dining with a man around her age. You recognized her from pictures before you and Seungcheol started dating, when you were barely even friends and neither of you knew how perfect you were for one another.

“Are you sure?”  Seungcheol asks for the nth time, guilt trickling across his face. 

“Of course I’m sure.” You confirm, squeezing his hand wrapped in yours across the table.

Seungcheol heaves a heavy sigh. The last thing he ever wanted was for you to think he would care about someone else. You knew it wholeheartedly. Seungcheol didn’t see anyone beyond you since your first date years ago.

The number of women he’d dated or hooked up with in some capacity had been a tough pill to swallow at the beginning of your relationship. A run in with one of them years ago was the catalyst for the first fight of your budding relationship, leaving you both in limbo at what to do. You hated feeling jealous and insecure because of it but Seungcheol assured you there were no lingering feelings; and he backed his words up with actions that proved he was sincere.

Eventually, you were something close to thankful for your boyfriend’s past partners. Thankful they taught Seungcheol to navigate love; the good, the bad, and the ugly. For helping him mature into the man sat in front of you. Seungcheol, who from day one let you know where you stood, who didn't leave you questioning his intentions, and enthusiastically pursued you in a way you had never experienced before. The one who doesn't take you for granted and still manages to sweep you off your feet after years together. The man who argues with you, not against you when you disagree; constantly reminding you that you're a team and you'll figure it out.

Seungcheol, who lets you baby him as much as you want because his past relationships didn't give him the space to rely on his partner. Who shares his fears and doubts even if it makes him feel vulnerable, knowing you're there for him through everything and he no longer needs to shoulder his burdens alone.

All of the events of his past led you both here. Engaged, happier than you've ever been, with a man who couldn't been more perfect for you.

“If you want to leave we can. I’ll find somewher–” 

“Baby, if I got upset every time we ran into someone you dated, we’d never leave the house.” You joke.

“I didn’t date that many girls!” Seungcheol pouts in a way that’s more than ridiculous for a man his age.

“It doesn’t matter. Wanna know why?”

“Why?”

Leaning forward, you wait until Seungcheol comes close enough to whisper, “Because they led you to me. And I’m the only one you want, right?”

“Of course.” Seungcheol whispers back.

“So when I say I don’t care, I really don’t.”

-

Taglist: @tomodachiii

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[francesderwent]

I’ve been on a real Fearless kick lately and it always makes me feel some kinda way about Olivia Rodrigo’s body of work. and not even primarily about her and her talent and her songwriting, just about how different an experience it seems to be growing up as a young millennial woman versus growing up as a young gen z woman. take the total absence of any jealousy/self-image song on Taylor’s debut album or Fearless—because social media wasn’t this omnipresent perfect image factory and so the insecurity of growing up looked more like “Place In This World” or “The Outside”, fundamental experiences of questioning and longing that are deeply connected to our humanity, as opposed to “jealousy jealousy”, “pretty isn’t pretty”, or “lacy” which are founded on an obsession spiral that is literally only possible on that level because of the invention of the smartphone.

look at “Tell Me Why” or “Other Side of the Door” as opposed to “vampire” or “logical”—Taylor’s approach was a very straightforward “you acted this way and this is how it made me feel." it wasn’t until later that she started to make statements about patterns of behavior, because she simply couldn’t see them except in hindsight! she couldn’t say “this is what kind of man you are” or “this is what sort of relationship we had” until she had fully processed what happened—which is when we get songs like “Fifteen” and “Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve” and “The Manuscript”. but because the younger generation breathes the air of pop psychology buzzwords, Olivia is diagnosing her exes and labeling her relationships right away. and you might say this is a good thing, that young women are armed with terms like “gaslighting” and taught to be suspicious of age gaps because of the power differential. but having the knowledge doesn’t seem to have protected Olivia at all. she still makes all the same mistakes, there’s literally a whole song all about knowing something is a bad idea and doing it anyway. she still dates the older guy, but then she has so many labels readymade to explain why it didn’t feel good that she doesn’t ever actually get down to saying how it felt—because I don’t think she knows. the younger generation acts like processing an experience means figuring out what tiktokified sound bite applies to it and then slapping the label on and moving forward. “my parents were emotionally abusive” “my ex was a narcissist” “my ex best friend gaslit me” etc. but it seems to me that’s skipping some necessary stages of actually processing your shit. “vampire” is Olivia trying to write “Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve” before she’s ever written (or felt) “Tell Me Why”. it’s the difference between “here’s to you and your temper, yes I remember what you said last night / and I know that you see what you’re doing to me, tell me why” on the one hand and “went for me and not her ‘cause girls your age know better” or “master manipulator, you’re so good at what you do” or “you convinced me it was all in my mind” on the other hand.

and another side effect of this, the big names in this younger generation of artists aren’t really writing love songs, and I don’t think that’s accidental. they literally do not have the vocabulary to do so. the psychology buzzwords that go around are all about toxic relationships and red flags. and so, deprived of a way of thinking about being in love, the love songs either fall flat (“I’ll go anywhere he goes and he says I’m so American”) or they simply don’t exist. the open-hearted sincerity of a “Hey Stephen” or “Jump Then Fall” is nowhere to be found.

[ursemma]

So high school~ James Beaufort × Reader

Requested

Warnings: fluff, brief smut (my first time writing might not be too good), eating out, 18+, nsfw

Based on Taylor Swift's song 'So high school'

I feel so high school every time I look at you

I wanna find you in a crowd just to hide from you

I was at James's party because my bestfriend, Lydia, invited me. Every one was present here but I couldn't find the one person I came for.

I looked around trying to find him and suddenly I felt a gaze on me, I turned around and saw James Beaufort. My I felt blood rushing towards my cheeks, I tired to hide myself in the big crowd but it didn't helped a bit as he was walking towards me.

And in a blink of a crinkling eye

I'm sinking, our fingers entwined

"y/n!" I heard him call my name, and i cursed under my breath, it can't be happening, I completely loose my self control around him, I turned around and saw him wearing a blue shirt, i couldn't help but wonder how would I look in it? Control.

"James" i tried to say it loud but it came as more of a whisper, "you- you look gorgeous" he said while checking me out, not even hiding it? Bold huh?

"thanks, that's what you're here for? To compliment me?" I teased him, "no actually I was wondering if you want to play truth or dare?" He asked me while looking into my eyes, those ocean blue eyes, I felt like I'm sinking deep into them, "yeah but you know I don't know your friends right?" I asked him trying to regain myself, "don't worry about them, you know me and Lydia that's enough" he reassured me and held my hand entwining our fingers and boom my stomach was filled with butterflies.

Cheeks pink in the twinkling lights

Tell me 'bout the first time you saw me

My cheeks turned pink. We sat across eachother, and his friends spined the bottle. After few rounds they decided there were going to be last 2 rounds before packing up. So far I was safe, I took a deep sigh indicating I was tired, "already tired?" One of his friends said, "yeah I actually I'm sleepy" i answered him back, he nodded in understanding and spined the bottle, it landed on James.

"truth or dare buddy?" His friend asked him with teasing eyes, "truth", "well tell us about the first time you saw y/n!" He told him with excitement. I looked at James who was already looking at me, he gulped before answering "well the first time I saw y/n/n, i thought she was, is actually, drop dead gorgeous, I saw her laughing with Lydia and her laugh was is music to my ears, and I just wanted to get to know her more which I did actually." He answered with sincerity, i couldn't help but wonder if it's true, something in my heart tells me it is but I don't know.

I'll drink what you think, and I'm high

From smoking your jokes all damn night

The brink of a wrinkle in time

Bittersweet sixteen suddenly,

The game got wrapped up, and I was leaving for my home, but I saw James approaching me.

"y/n/n!" He called out while catching a breath. "Yes James?" I looked at him confused.

"about what I said earlier, everything is true" he said once he caught his breath, "okay?" I replied in confusion.

He took a deep breath "I know you're confused about why am I even confirming it but I just wanted to tell you, I love you, I have always been and always will, you've taken my heart that i didn't even knew was there, i look at you and suddenly I'm all sixteen, like this has never happened with me before, I was confused entire time but then everytime I look at you, it's like you're the only person to exist, I want to spend my mornings, afternoon, nights, fuck, my entire life with you." Once he was finished he looked at me hoping I'll say something.

"oh god James I love you too! I've always have been, and always will!" He then kissed me like I was a drug that he always wanted to try, and I felt like I was sixteen again, with my highschool love.

I'm watching American Pie with you on a Saturday night

Your friends are around, so be quiet

I'm trying to stifle my sighs'

Cause I feel so high school every time I look at you

But look at you

It's been months since we started dating, and here we are at his house watching American pie.

He looked at me and started to caress my thigh, I was wearing a short skirt so it didn't help me at all, thankfully were sharing blankets so no one can see us.

I was trying to stifle my sighs but his hand was moving upwards, i clenched my thighs together and glared at him in warning but he just smiled innocently.

I got up and went to bathroom, he followed me and pinned me in between his hands, he made me sit on the wash basin, "J-James" I tried to call his name, but he was so close to my face as if he was teasing me "yeah?" "We shouldn't do this your friends are here" I protested but the only thing he did was kiss me and said, "we shouldn't", "yeah" I said but my actions said complete opposite I kissed him harder and unbuttoned his shirt, he threw my top and bra somewhere in the bathroom and he pulled my skirt down.

While he was working on my skirt, i pushed his pants down and, marked his back with my nails, he attacked my neck, slowly and sloppy at first, but suddenly he bit me earning a moan "James!" "You like that?" "Yes" I was breathing heavily, clutching his hair for support.

He was massaging my breasts as he was teasing me, i couldn't hold back a moan as I felt myself getting wetter and wetter

"I need you" I confessed while kissing him, "what do you need love?" He asked as he roamed his hand on my body as if he was learning it, every mole, every scare, every curve, he was then marking it with his kisses, in gentle and sloppy way.

"you, everything, give it to me" I said with a sense of authority, he grinned at me while going down. He ate me out like I was a meal he craved for, every lick, every suck caused my orgasm to arrive, "James I'm closer" I warned him while arching my back and moaning "cum baby, cum on my tounge" he said as he licked me last time, and i came on his tounge.

He hummed in satisfaction and kissed me to let me taste myself, he covered us with a towel and we went to his bed.

"let me show you how much I love you" with that he gently laid me down and told me "spread your beautiful legs for me darling" I did as he said and he gently trusted into me "you can move" I told him once I got comfortable, he was being patient with me the entire time but I wanted more, "go rough on me James" I looked into his eyes as I said it, "you sure?" He asked me for confirmation, "yes my love" and he did. The entire night went on and, we made love.

We cuddled up finally and his phone vibrated indicating a text, "whose that?" "My friend, he told us to enjoy and that they're leaving as the movie ended" we laughed and slept into a slumber.

The next morning I woke up to being bombarded with kisses I laughed at him and he carried me to the bath, he helped me wash myself, and I changed into his blue shirt, my favourite peice of clothing of his.

We went downstairs and he was cooking for me i grabbed the whipped cream and started licking it off, "hey no I needed it for my cake!" I giggled and started running around with it, he back hugged me, and i turned around innocently licking the cream off my finger, "you're going to be death of me," he chuckled as I kissed him and we spent entire day together, with him going to practice and me reading a book, to cuddling up in bed and suddenly I felt so high school.

He was mine and I was his.

[eeunoia]

ENHYPEN Mini Series

ENHYPEN as Taylor Swift Songs

STYLE

synopsis: sim jaeyun is your style, your type of guy. mainly the reason why despite the complicated relationship with him, you seem to always find it hard to make him leave and finding yourself with the same ending.

pairings: jake sim x reader

word count: 9k.

warnings: a pinch of angst, suggestive (a little). jake being clingy and touchy. hint of cheating. grammatical errors. let me know if i missed some.

fic moodboard › here

note: i'm actually surprised that this fic is not as long as i expected it to be, but anyway i had fun writing it so i hope you enjoy reading. style is one of my favorite queen taylor's songs so i really did think alot about the plot for this and of course the jake sim fits it so well. i love him so much. please re-blog and send me asks. i would really appreciate your kind feedbacks. thank you and ily. stay safe.

“Lee Y/n made it to headlines after the announcement of her partaking in this new big series coming up this fall. She will be the main female lead for this upcoming drama and people are on fire. They are so happy about the casting and couldn’t wait for it to be aired. Wah,” your friend exclaimed with exaggerated look on her face while she reads an article through her phone.

Shaking your head lightly with a grin on your face, you gently moving your wine glass you are holding. The sweet aroma of the liqour made it into your nose causing for you to feel more relaxed. It was addictive and somehow nostalgic.

“You really did it this comeback.” she couldn’t hide the excitement through her voice as she giggles and continued scrolling on her phone.

“Well, my management did a great job on choosing this project.” the humble comment made her scoffed before playfully throwing chips at your direction.

“Oh come on Ms. Humble of Korea, give yourself more credits.” she jokes and smiled widely at you.

“You know you deserve this, right?” her tone this time is softer, letting you know how sincere she is. You can’t help but to return her wholesome gaze as you went close to her for a hug.

These months have been rough for you and only few people in your life knows about it. Your bestfriend, (name), are one of these people. You admit that this project is the biggest one so far that you’ll be working on. It makes you nervous and worry of how it will turn out, but excitement tops all of it. All in all, you’re just happy to be back on track. Glad to finally be back on doing what you love to do.

Being out from the big screen for months was no joke. A lot of questions are formed and articles starts to appear out of nowhere. Vogue speculations and rumors media creats aboutyou to gain attention was horrendous. That’s one of the things you hate in the field you are in. You love your work, there’s no doubt with that. It’s just it drains your energy most of the time. Having your movements being watched by a lot of people all the time sucks big time. Surely, showbiz isn’t for the weak.

“Oh, great.” you snaps out of your trance when your friend spoke again. She looks a little annoyed while still on her phone. Seems like she’s looking at something that caught her attention.

“Look who’s back in the country.” she flips her phone to face you and your eyes squints a bit because of the brightness. Once adjusted, your eyes focused on the article flashing through her screen. Big bold letters caught your attention right away.

‘ENHYPEN back in the country after a successful world tour. The group said to be having rest after a very successful world tour and then prepare for their next come back. Read more...’ it read. You gulped and felt your heart race after reading it. The picture attached bellow the heading was the latest picture of the said group departing an airport from america.

Your eyes locked on the guy with a black mullet hair. His slightly tanner skin makes him extra noticeable when he stood beside one of his fair skinned members. Flashes of cameras reflects through his big doe eyes that makes him look so innocent. Contrary to this was his sinful looking plump lips that lies beneath his pointy nose. Jake Sim, sure is breathtaking.

Its been months ever since the last time you’ve seen him and now that he’s back in the country, it makes you feel a lot of things. Things that only him can execute.

You are snapped out from your thoughts when your friend pulled the phone away, instant regret glints her face. Her eyes are squinting at you, staring as if she just caught you doing a heinous crime. Feeling flushed from being too affected by the article and your friend entirely knowing what’s going on inside your head, you glanced away before clearing your throat.

“Seriously, get over him.” she sighs sounding a little frustrated.

Well, can you blame her? She just knew how things between you and Jake are very intricate. The two of you announced a public break up months ago. The fans, although felt sad about it, didn’t really got too affected by it because that isn’t the first time it happened.

You’re known as one of the rising young actress in your generation. Because of your undeniably talent with acting and your beauty, people sure loves seeing you on screens.

On the other hand, Jake Sim. Oh how to properly start on describing him... It feels easy and difficult at the same time. Easy, because you knew him very well and difficult because you might blabber things unconsciously due to overwhelming emotions.

Jake Sim’s name is very loud on the industry of music. Their group, Enhypen, is making big all over the whole world right now. And you think that they do deserve the fame and all since they are indeed talented.

If he’s amazing on camera, Jake is just dreamy behind them.

He is definitely your ideal type. Tall, handsome, smart, can sing and dance, good physique, have a very sexy accent, soft spoken, loves animals specially dogs, family oriented, financially stable and a complete gentlemen. What more can you ask, right? He’s definitely the one for you. He’s 100%, no doubt, your style.

“Its easier said than done.” your eyes dropped on your glass of wine and slowly, you took a sip.

Awkward silence follows after and your friend could not help but feel slightly bad for bringing up Jake. Her hand moves even before her brain could stop her when she showed you that article. Maybe she just got used to showing everything that has got something to do with the said idol.

To describe your relationship with Jake won’t be easy. Yes, you may agree that the two of have feelings for each other. People always says you two are soulmates, puzzle pieces that completes the whole picture and a very cute couple. You can’t deny that being with him brings tremendous joy within you and that you are happy together, but you couldn’t find the right answer as to why you two always fall apart.

When your gaze drifts towards her, she opens her mouth to say something only to be interrupted by a faint ‘ding’ sound from your phone. A text message from someone just saved you two from an awkward silence. Brows furrowed out of confusion, you pulled out your phone to see who texted you.

And your heart almost drops and palms instantly sweats at the sight of a contact name you haven't seen for a while. After clearing your throat that felt extra dry despite having sips of wine, you sets your glass over the center table to prevent any possible accident.

Jake Sim: Hey.

One word text message was enough to shake your whole system up. To think that he have this much effect on you kind of pisses you off. This isn’t how it suppose to be. His name shouldn’t bother you this way and he should’ve been blocked by now.

You draws in a sigh, trying to calm youself down. A glance over your friend gave you an assurance that she’s now busy with her phone again. You utter your silent prayers that she didn’t saw your reaction just now. She would’ve known what its all about right away.

You: ?

You are biting your nails consciously while (im)patiently waiting for him to text back. It didn’t took him long and you felt a bit dizzy just by thinking he’s waiting for your reply too. Its making your heart beat crazily fast.

Jake: Where are you?

Throat feeling dry once again, you gulped and licked your lips because they felt a little dry as well. As to why is still a question for you.

You: Why?

After the message was sent, the small ‘read’ word plastered below it. Right away, he was typing his reply. He seems eager. To think that it was you he was longing for you is making you tremble in excitement. Even no matter how hard you deny you missed him, you knew deep down that you are feeling incomplete without Jake Sim.

You are missing him too much and having him texting you right now has dug that feeling you've buried the moment you stopped seeing each other.

Jake: I’m at your apartment’s parking lot.

That was it. All it took for you to go stumbling your way to prepare youself was his last text message. Thankfully, you didn’t trip while hurrying over your bedroom to fetch some jacket. Walking pass by your big full length mirror, you went back to check if you look decent enough to make Jake Sim crazy.

You’re currently wearing your usual sexy silk night dress. This is how you dress to sleep or whenever you stay in your apartment so there’s no issue showing like this to Jake Sim. The amount of times he had seen you in these type of clothes was uncountable.

You have to use a jacket to cover up since you have to go use the elevator. Even if this building is usually occupied by celebrities, you don’t want to give a bad impression of dressing scandalously in a cold night.

Your friend who you left at the living room is now crossing her arms at you, head tilted over to the side waiting for the right timing to question your sudden odd behavior.

A bright smile is what you flashed to her, trying so hard to hide the fact that you are feeling so nervous to how you will tell her without gaining any suspicion.

“Are you going to be fine here? I’ll just go out to go b-buy something.” and you top it with yet another sweet smile. This type of acts should be easy for you. You’re an actress for Godsake, but maybe she just knew you so well that’s why it clearly didn’t work.

She rolled her eyes before starting gathering her stuff. “Where is he?” she asks casually while trying to put some of her belongings inside her bag.

A pout made it to your lips and guilt came rushing through you. She scoffs and crossed her arm once again after hanging the strap on one of her shoulders.

“Make sure no paparazzi will see the two of you. The project just got released and he just got back to the country. Please don’t make it to the headlines tomorrow.” she strictly reminds you.

It made a smile spread across your face before nodding continuously.

“Don’t worry. We’ll be very careful.”

She rolled her eyes again and draws a strained sigh. She just couldn’t understand why you two kept on doing these things.

After she saw you panicking after receiving a message, she already knew who it was. It almost like a routine already that her mind instantly gave her a hint on who you’re going to meet. Honestly, she doesn’t want to let you go. She wanted to ask you to make him leave or stood him up like how you suppose to do, but she knew it will just make you two sneak up even more.

You two are so crazy for one another that’s why its still a mystery for her why you kept on breaking up. If you both can’t live without one another, why not just be mature enough to deal with your issues? She just couldn’t understand.

With a hood pulled up to the head and a mask covering half of your face, both of you steps inside the elevator. It was silent, but not totally awkward. Once you arrived at the underground parking lot, her car can be seen right away so you two walked over there first.

She glanced at you, still trying to keep the strict face on. It kind of wants to make you laugh, but you tried not to.

“Don’t stay up too late since you have a photoshoot tomorrow.” she reminded you like a parent trying to remind her daughter she have school the next day.

You smiled and did a playful salute, “Aye aye captain!”

She scoffs and gave you a quick hug before letting you off. A small wave is what you gave her before walking towards the corner of the parking lot. You're pretty sure if Jake's really here, he's parked at his usual spot. Its ideal to meet up there since its at the far corner and only a few people walks around it.

His familiar car was parked like you expected it to be. Due to the heavy tinted windows, its a bit hard to tell whether he's inside the vehicle or not. Thankfully, your confusion was soon answered when his headlights opened and the engine roars.

To avoid getting too much attention, Jake always comes here to pick you up with no headlights. But the moment you arrive, he will open it so if ever someone follows you to take pictures they will have a hard time capturing a good one.

“Hey,” you greeted the moment you got inside his car and the lock clicked soon right after.

Your heart thumped crazily as you met eyes with Jaeyun. His fluffy hair a bit disheveled only made him more attractive. His smile looked so sweet yet teasing. You have no idea how he does that, but he sure knows how to drive you even more crazy.

“Hi gorgeous.” his sudden compliment made your cheeks flushed.

“What are you doing here, Sim Jaeyun?” he chuckled lightly at the sound of his government name falling from your lips. Your sweet lips. God, how much he missed kissing them.

He got easily distracted as his eyes settled over your lips that you quickly catch on. After a sigh, your eyes racked down from his handsome face to the clothes he was wearing causing for a crease to appear over your forehead.

“Wait, did you went here straight from the airport?”

You noticed that he was wearing the same clothes he have at the article your friend showed you. It was when they departed from the airport. The shirt he's wearing inside is the same one from the picture and the coat he used to cover it, abandoned at the backseat of his car.

Jake smiles and the way his eyes batted slowly confirmed it. Now you realized how he looked so tired, the circles below his eyes are visible.

“Yes. I've missed you so I figured I go straight here.”

“Are you crazy?”

He chuckles, enjoying the way you sounded so worried. “I might really go crazy if I didn’t came here to see you.” his tone so serious, eyes still fixed at you.

His words and the way his stares lingers made you blush so hard. Still trying to conceal it with keeping a straight face, you cleared your throat and glanced away from him. That's when you finally take a proper breath. You didn't even realized you've been holding your breath since you entered his car.

“Come on, baby.” the familiar pet name awoke something inside your chest, an emotion.

Your eyes trailed from outside his car towards back him. His eyes looked hooded as he gently reached over you, the warmth of his hands over your skin felt amazing.

“Can I at least have a hug? Didn't you miss me?” his lips pouts and its a sinful scene for you. Jake knew how much you love his lips and he's doing this on purpose.

After letting out a sigh, you slowly leaned your body near him so you can give the hug he was asking for, only to be surprised when his arm slid over your waist smoothly carrying you to make you sit on his lap. A yelp escapes your mouth at what suddenly happened. You are taken off guatd and he's enjoying every bits of it.

Your eyes squints and you glared at him, you rest both of your hand over his upper chest to support your weight as you try to get off him.

“Nah, you're not going anywhere.” he mumbles. The grin on his face grew as he held your hips firmly, refraining you from moving again.

“Jake!” you screamed and felt your whole face burning when he buried his face over your neck, nuzzling and inhaling your scent.

The feeling of his lips in contact of your bare skin is making you dizzy. Jake's eyes looks up while he place feathery kisses at your neck. Seeing you trying to conceal the pleasure you feel from what he's doing is making him smirk.

Slowly, you stopped resisting and just let him have his way over you. As usual.

With eyes shut tight, you let out a strained sigh. “I m-missed you.” you admits.

The grin on Jake's face widen, “I know, sweetheart.” he confidently stated.

Now that’s him. Jake Sim is very confident. He knew where he stands in your life and took grounds over it. He knows how to play his cards in the game he already mastered. Like a predator that have his prey captured and just waiting for the right time to take them in.

You bit your lip, trapping it between your teeth then pulled away slightly to see his face. He leans back, eyes settling on yours, looking sleepy and tired. He smirked and both of his hands moves up to hold your waist, thumb softly caressing it distracting you gradually.

You raised your hand to brush his hair making him close his eyes, feeling so good from your touch.

“It's been a while since I have even heard from you.” you mumble, a hint of distress exists on your tone.

“The tour kept me busy, baby.” he reasoned.

“Busy enough to even contact me once?”

He opened his eyes, half-lidded and a big smirk present on his handsome face. He looked dangerously sexy in front of you and you just couldn’t explain why its making your knees weak.

“You broke up with me, why would I bother reaching out?” his tone taunting you. He was being sarcastic and you know it very well.

Jake knew. He knew so well that the main reason why he didn’t try to reach out is because he might miss you too much. It won’t be too good for the tour if he’ll be distracted. Afterall, you are the only person that can drive him full on crazy mode.

A pout made it to your lips, “I,” your words halt, unable to defend yourself from his blow. It was true and there’s nothing you can say to back up your statement.

Jake took notice of your silence so he lets out a sigh, trying to dismiss the heavy atmosphere that caging both of you.

“Can we go up to your unit? I want to spend the night with you.” he touched your chin slightly and you are left with no choice, but to nod your head.

You two walks inside the building and wait patiently in front of the lift. Jake stood too closely behind you, a hand inside his pocket while the other one rests over your waist. He's wearing his hoodie and a cap, face covered with a mask.

Whenever you two splits up, its usually you who calls it off. Days or a week will pass and you two will slowly find yourself meeting each other again then get back together like nothing happened. In between those, Jake's name will be linked with women from the industry, but his company was always quick to deny it. Then you two will enjoy your time together, fight again, then you'll break it off. The same cycle repeating continuously like a routine.

Maybe you two are still immature? You have no idea. But one thing's for sure, no matter how complicated things between Jake and you got, you always find your way back to each other.

Jake's eyes follows you silently, waiting patiently while you go and close the light of the room. He's already on your bed, changed into his clothes he left in your apartment months ago and already prepared to get that good sleep he's been deprived of.

“What?” you asked him as you take off the jacket you're wearing. You noticed how he just laid there and watch your every move.

His eyes moved from your face down to what you are wearing. Jake gulped and felt like sleep is slowly trying to leave his system, another feeling getting awoken by how beautiful you look. The little light emitting from the lamp beside your bed was enough to give him this glorious vision of you.

“You look so damn gorgeous.” his accent popped the moment he gave that compliment.

Your cheeks blushed right away, “No, you will sleep tonight.” your firm words almost made the man on your bed groan out of frustration.

“Come on, baby.”

You shake your head ‘no’. “Jake, you looked so tired. Sleep.”

“One round?” he asked giving you his puppy eyes, pretty lips turns into a pout.

“Jake,”

He chukles and opens the blanket for you, “Fine, come here then.”

You didn't move and kept your eyes at him, a little suspicious if he's not trying to trick you or anything. He giggled sexily, making you almost lose your mind.

‘Oh Jake Sim.’

“I promise not to do anything funny. I just really want to cuddle and feel your warmth.”

You let out a sigh and decided to climb up on your bed joining him. He pulls your body closer to his not leaving any space in between. He lets your head rest on his chest and place a kiss on your temple.

His familiar warmth you longed for felt heaven and you knew right away that you will have a very good sleep. You started wondering if this means you two are back together. Even if you're bothered about it, you refrained from asking him so you wouldn't ruin the mood.

“Good night, Jake.” you said instead.

“Good night, beautiful. See you in my dreams.” and he tightens his hug on your body that fits perfectly to his hold.

You shut your eyes, inhaling his scent that sends comfort to you. Jake's breathing became more stable, light snores can be heard from him making your smile grow bigger. He moves a bit and pulled you even closer, nuzzling over you. You two were so close you can basically hear his heartbeat synchronizing with yours.

“This series will be a huge deal for your career, y/n.” the bright look on your manager’s face says a lot. She was obviously excited about it.

You are too. Only, you’re a little distracted.

“Do you think Jake’s dating that girl?” you blurted out of the blue.

It’s been two weeks ever since he spent the night to your unit. As expected, you got too busy with your schedules while he’s trying to make the best out of his resting period.

And looks like he’s enjoying it very much, specially after he’s said to be seen around with his 'new' girl. A lot of articles spreads around the internet on how the idol seems to finally move on from you.

This isn’t the first time his name got involved with someone else or the first time people suspects him of dating someone else after calling it off with you. But this is the first time his company is not denying any of it.

It’s already been a day after the news broke out and normally, his company should’ve released a statement saying that it was just rumors and that is not true. But, none. Their side is silent and its bothering you big time.

In a speed of light, your manager's face turn into a frown. The hand holding your contact rested lazily beside her. The excitement over her system slowly draining out of her.

“Why are you thinking about him? He should be the least of your concern right now! You’ve been casted as the main lead of this new hot kdrama and today will be the official release of the trailer you two worked on a week ago.”

Your lips turned into a pout and eyes trailed off from her, guilt filled you because despite of hearing her points you couldn’t stop thinking about Jake.

You know how bad your agency worked hard to get you this spot. Of course you take part on doing it since you did the audtion, but you just can’t disregard the effort and time they put into this project.

She sighed, “You need to get yourself busy to take him off from your mind.” she states.

“You have a photoshoot today with your male lead. Focus on how you two will show chemistry later.”

“Ugh.” you groaned.

“You should focus on your leading man! He’s very popular these days and he’s smoking hot.” you almost laugh when you saw how her eyes almost formed hearts.

“He’s years older than me.”

“So? Don’t you think its good since he have more experiences in life and more mature? You can use some maturity in your life, you know?” her words seems very meaningful, like hinting something vougly.

“Do you have a crush on him?” you ask her with a teasing smile now.

She smirks, “Well, who doesn’t? He's tall and handsome. Very well mannered and good at his job too.”

You scoffed and played with the throw pillow beside you, “Jake’s all that too.” you mumbled that didn’t slip from your manager’s ears.

“Move your ass and get in the van now.” she said strictly making you pout even more.

In the end, you had no choice but to get up from the sofa then head outside your company building to go on with your day.

The ride to the set of your photoshoot was short and you arrived in no time. People around looked very busy as they try to make the set look perfect. You roam your eyes in awe, thinking how talented they are for making it so perfectly.

“Hi,” your head snaps to the side and eyes grew a bit big at the sight of your male lead.

He smiles, eyes almost turning into a one line, dimples showing at side of his cheeks. You got a little surprised how his face looked so different whenever he have a straight face compared when he's smiling. Your manager is right. He sure is very handsome.

You gave him a bow and greets him. His eyes stares while he keep his friendly smile. The aura between you two aren’t really awkward. Even when you first met last last week to shoot the trailer, it was easy to get along with him. You don’t know if he’s just really friendly, but he’s so easy to talk to and get along to.

The takes for that trailer was not so bad as well. The directors kept on complimenting the two of you for doing such a great job. The chemistry on screen was no joke, the look on the staffs around was enough to say that the series will surely do good.

“Have you watched the trailer yet?” he asks.

You shake your head 'no'. “I don’t usually watch myself acting because I think its cringey.”

He chuckles and you can’t help but to notice how good he looks whenever he does that.

“I totally relate. I haven’t seen it too.”

You kept your stares at him like as if you don’t believe him. He sighs and smirks, “Fine, I did. But only because my Mom forced me to watch it with her.”

You chuckled after he confessed.

“That’s cute.”

“Me?” the grin over his face made you roll your eyes, pursing your lips to prevent a smile to make its way to your face.

“I meant your Mom.”

“Well they do say I took after my Mom, so basically you are calling me cute too.”

You snorted playfully, “You’re unbelievable.” and you cannot contain the small chuckles anymore.

He smiles even bigger. “I’m telling the truth.”

You nodded your head, “Yeah, okay.”

Eventually, you both are called to your respective dressing rooms to prepare for the shoot. A big smirk plays through your manager’s face when you entered the room. You furrowed your brows, confused.

“What?” one of your make up artists makes you sit down in front of the big mirrors so they can start doing your make-up.

“So,” she starts. “I saw you two talking. You have a crush on him now?”

You rolled your eyes, “We were just making a conversation.”

She nods her head, but it doesn’t look like she’s believing any of your words. “That’s good. That is really good with building your bond and get closer to each other.”

You stayed silent and just let your make up artist do her job. She was called outside by the photographer and you thank God for that because you finally have the peace you’ve planned to have before setting your mind for the shoot.

Unpredicted at all, Jake Sim made his way inside your mind and the recent articles you just read about him. It suddenly starts to make you feel bad, but your manager did oriented you on how you should focus on yourself.

“y/n, try putting your hand on (actor name).” you snapped back to reality and realized that you are in the middle of shoot already.

After your make up, you were called to start the photoshoot and since then you are spacing out. You gulped, feeling embarrased that you actually not focused so you quickly pull yourself together.

Your eyes trailed over to (actor name) and he’s looking at you. “It’s fine, don’t be shy.” he mumbles with a small teasing smile.

With a blushing cheeks, you rolled and rests your hand over his upper chest. While still looking straight to his eyes, you try to keep a pierce look on your eyes making the smile on his face falter a bit.

“That's it! Keep that tension.” you heard the photographer directs, but you are too focused on admiring the man in front of you.

He soon pull himself and felt his hand rests over your waist pulling you even closer to him. The feeling was odd for you. Maybe because this is the first time a different male other than Jake came this close to you.

“I love it! Keep it up!” the voice was so muffled because you are too busy looking at his eyes. You are too drawn by the looks he was giving you. He looked so good with the way his eyes stares and a small smirk playing over his lips.

“You are so beautiful, y/n. Have I ever told you that?” he whispered as he leaned closer making your forehead and nose touch, his breath fanning you.

Your heart thumped harder and could feel your lips shaking a little. For a moment there, you forgot the issue involving Jake and that girl.

The schedule wrapped up nicely. The staffs and directors complimenting you nonstop that sends relief to you. Its good that in spite of being distracted, you still managed to do well.

“You did great today, y/n.” (actor name) came to say goodbye and you just nods your head at him.

He smirks, “You too.” and you gave a small bow.

A scoff escapes his lips. “Come on, no need to be so formal. We’ll be seeing each other more often so let's be friends okay?” and he even messed your hair playfully.

You frowned, “Okay, but first don't do that again.”

He chuckles, clearly delighted seeing a different emotion from you. “Nah, I’ll keep doing it.” he puts his hand inside his pocket as you shoot him glares.

“Bye, see you on monday.” and sends you a small wave as he walks away.

You are still slightly pissed of what he did when you entered your service. Your manager was too happy to your performance that she just continued going on and on about how much you and (actor name) looked good together. Feeling a little tired because of the shoot and her continuous ranting, you tried to shut your eyes.

You got awoken by gentle taps over your arm. Maybe you are really tired because you fell asleep without even realizing it and now you just arrived at your apartment.

“You did well today.” she says and even asked if she should walk you to your floor, which you declined right away.

“Go home and rest, Manager. I’m sure you are as tired as me.” and you gave her an assuring smile. She smiled back and didn’t even manage to stop the yawn from emitting from her lips.

“Alright, sleep well.” and then off she goes.

You took a long bath to refresh yourself and try to prepare for bed. Its odd because even having a very long day, you don't seem sleepy.

While staring blankly outside your apartment window, you heard your phone ringing nonstop. A strained sigh escapes your mouth before strutting closer to where you put your phone.

Your breath hitched at the sight of Jake's caller id. Heart thumping loudly inside your chest, your mind went blank once again. You thought it was your manager. This isn't the call you've expected to receive.

“Hello?” you licked your lips while fidgeting over your fingers.

“I'm here.” you heard his raspy voice from the other line as you walk back to the window to look over the view outside to somehow relax your mind.

With jacket wrapped tightly around your body, you roamed your eyes around the quiet parking lot. It was late already so like expected, nobody else is here.

Your light steps doesn't even make a single sound and you can almost hear your beating heart. By the left corner, you saw Jake's car at its usual spot.

He is really here. No headlights and waiting for you.

Hesitation occurs your mind, trying to rethink if what you're doing is a good idea. Countless times you've told yourself you'll tell Jake off and yet here you are again. Sneaking just to steal moments with him. It felt illegal that your heart is hammering so hard over your chest, but it felt good at some ways you cannot explain.

When you are only steps away from him, he opens his headlights like always and waits patiently inside.

“Hey.” he greeted the moment you make it inside his car. His eyes were hooded and obviously tired, but that didn't even lessen his godly visual. For you, Jake Sim always looks ethereal.

You smiled, blushing. “Hi.” you shortly replied.

His eyes racked from your face down to your body. “You dressed for me and damn, red lips? You sure know how to drive me crazy.” he commented after seeing the dress and red lips you decided to put on after his call. His hand reaches out to pull you closer.

You hitch your breath because of the sudden contact from his warm hands.

“W-What are you doing here?” the tone you used felt a little off for Jake. Even if you seem worried, nervous or anxious whenever meeting him here, he can always hears a hint of excitement from you. But today, there's something off.

“Aren't you happy to see me?” he pursed his pretty lips into a pout and shoot you with his innocent look on his eyes.

The wall you tried to barricade yourself with came crumbling right away. Jake and his ways of getting you are seriously a big problem.

“I a-am.” and your hand rests on top of his hand that is now on your bare thighs.

Jake smiles at the sight of your eyes softening for him.

'There it is.' he quietly mumbles inside his mind. 'There's my girl.' he added. The amount of relief that flows through him was just enough for him to flash you his pretty wide smile.

“Oh, I'm very glad to see you too.” he pulls you closer, leaning too close enough for your noses to rub against each other. It sends shivers to your spine and butterflies to your stomach.

His eyes hooded as he stares dangerously at your lips then back to your eyes, like a predator so hungry for his prey standing right in front of him.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” he uttered under his breath that made you smile with a flushed cheeks.

Your hands moves on their own as they snaked over his nape to pull him even closer, making your lips almost touching. It was tempting to just make it touch, but for Jake this is what he enjoys. The thrill and heart-thumping moments he gets from being with you. He loves and enjoys the way you can excite and make him want more. He just couldn't get enough of you.

“Kiss me.” you whispered like a wish.

Jake chuckles sexily, his hand slowly caress your thighs that adds so much tension between you two.

“You don't even have to ask twice.” and so he crashes his lips to yours causing an outburst of feelings that filled your heart.

After the heated make out session, your night didn’t end to right away. He asks you using his soft tone to put your seatbelt on, even placing yet another hot kiss on your lips before he started putting his seatbelts on too. His car then drove out from your building's underground parking lot.

“Where are we going?” you ask giving him a short glance.

He smiles and rests one of his hand on your thighs, “Check the backseat, baby.”

You blushed because of the petname he used, but you obliged and brows furrowed at the sight of a picnic basket. A mat lies beside it.

“We’ll go to our usual spot?” you couldn’t hide the excitement over your eyes when you ask him that.

His smile grew wider, “Yeah. We haven't been there for a while.”

A pout made its way to your lips. “Yes. We’re too busy.”

The two of you arrived at the top of the hill where you can see the pretty city lights from afar. It was honestly breathtaking and the first time you've seen this view, you fell in love. This is a space that is memorable and special for both you and Jake.

“Have a sit now, princess.” Jake snapped you out from your trance.

When you glanced at him, he have this big proud smile as he presents you the now laid down flatly mat that he prepared. You chuckled and thanked him before settling down. He opened the basket and your eyes soften seeing the familiar food that you enjoyed eating together.

“Aw, you didn't have to prepare this much.”

He smirks, “Anything for you.” and lightly pinches your cheeks before setting down a sandwich he made.

The night went on with just the two of you enjoying each other's company. It doesn't bother you that it was already late at night or if its getting really chilly.

Fade in the view, you stared at the daydream looks on Jake's eyes. With that long hair, slicked back and just a plain white shirt. He sure makes you ecstatic.

He leans closer making you hitch your breath. You let him take over, finally giving in to his soft kisses. Your heart almost burst outside of your chest due to the million emotions only him can make you feel.

“I missed you so much.” he confessed so low like it was something illegal.

Your eyes shut as his forehead rests at yours. The feeling of your heart beating insync together was your solace.

“I missed you too.”

After spending some more time under the bright moon and comforting silence between you, he finally decided to call it a night. You wanted to protest and ask if you two can stay for a little bit more, but refrain yourself from doing so. He helped you get up with a smile and he puts back the things to his car while you admire him silently.

So it goes. The drive on your way back to your apartment, he couldn't even keep his wild eyes on the road. Stealing glance at your side from time to time, like as if checking if you're really there with him.

At the arrival in your place, the lights were off and as he takes off his coat you felt your heart thumped out of excitement that he's here to stay for the night.

“Cuddle me?” it came out more of a request rather than as a suggestion.

You nod, agreeing. Jake went to his usual side of the bed and opens the blanket for you. After making yourself comfortable, head resting over his chest while he draws lazy circles at the small of your back, you speak out your thoughts.

“I've heard that you've been going out with another girl.” you starts and you know he heard you because his fingers stalled for a while.

“What you heard is true,” he starts and he draws in a strained sigh. “But I can't stop thinking about you and I.” he added and felt him pulling you closer.

You let out a sigh, nuzzling closer.

“I've been there too a few times.” and you two fell into silence with a mutual understanding that despite the situation you both get tangled with, its with one another where you find the most comfort.

You know you should tell him to leave cause you know exactly where it leads, but for some reasons you always ends up watching the two of you go round and round each time.

It's not right anymore. The two of you had been here before, but you always find yourself with the same ending. You just don’t understand why in spite of being aware of it, you always find yourself running your way back over to his arms.

‘Jake Sim of Enhypen seen out with (girl name) again. The two were seen being intimate with each other... Read more.’

Your mind went blank at the sight of the article that has been trending since last night. Mixed of emotions occured you. The sense of betrayal, confusion and emptiness drawns unto you all at once. It was a heavy emotion.

“Hm, ex boyfriend?” you jolted and snapped back to reality when someone talked beside you.

It was (actor name) and he's curious eyes darts straight at the phone screen. Feeling slightly embarrassed, you glared at him before clicking your phone off.

“Is he your ex boyfriend?” he asks again that made you feel even more irritated.

You already started filming the series so you're basically seeing (actor name) almost everyday. He's nice and easy to get along to, but sometimes he can be annoying too. Specially that he seemed to be fond of teasing you.

“Can you mind your own business?” you rolled your eyes that only made him chuckle.

“So he is.” he concludes and you shoot him glares once again.

It’s been a week since the last night you've seen or heard from Jake. And honestly, you thought you two are doing perfectly fine. That the intimate time you spend together that night was a silent declaration that you two are just for each other. Maybe you are just so naive? So hopeful? You don't know anything at all at this point.

“You want me to help you?”

“Help me with what?”

“To get over him.” he stated innocently.

You scoffed sarcastically like it was the funniest thing you've heard in your life. But he is not fazed at all. Instead, he have this confident boyish smile he always sports that makes him extremely attractive.

“You think I haven't tried everything?”

“Yeah,” he starts and shrugs his shoulder off. “You haven't tried going out with me yet, have you?”

You felt something inside your stomach going crazy for what he said.

“You're crazy.” you manages to mumble despite with a racing heart.

“No, no!” he chuckles, trying to win you over considering his suggestion.

“Come to think of it. There's nothing to lose here. You can get over with your ex, we'll get the promotion for our series. Hitting two birds with one stone.”

You stared at him without saying any words, contemplating. The fact that you are really considering his suggestion is making you wonde if you should stop looking at his beautiful eyes. Makes you think that he's hypnotizing you into agreeing.

“And besides, if it doesn't work then we'll just make it seem like I dumped you.”

Your forehead creased as his smile grew wider.

“Why are you the one dumping me?”

He chuckles, “Okay, you can dump me since you look cute.”

You rolled your eyes at him and glanced at his hand he was offering you to conceal the deal.

And you don't know if it was just because the anger you felt towards Jake or (actor name) just looked so good that moment. But you agreed. Leading you to why you are inside his car now, coming home from your nth date.

It's already been five months and a half since the agreement. You don't know it lasted that long already and honestly you don't care because you are having so much fun hanging out with him.

He was such a fun person. You are completely aware of it before, but when you started spending time together with less people and camera around you, he was so much more. He's so caring, such a soft person which totally contradicts his physical appearance since he shows this manly demeanor, and he takes good care of you. He never lets you overthink at all. He's always there for you and never send mixed signals towards you.

It was scary agreeing to this arrangement. Like taking a big risk that you can end up regretting or loving, like someone coming out of their shells for the first time and finding out that the world has so much more to offer.

“What's making you look so serious there, gorge?” he asks as he taps his fingers over his steering wheel waiting patiently for the redlight to turn green.

You pout and showed him the article you've been reading. “Don't you think I look fat in this picture?”

It was an article about the two of you when you've been seen going out the other day and he didn't even glance at it. His eyes are glued at you completely and his eyes softens at your question. A playful smirk painted his face before he leans and give your cheeks a small peck.

“Damn, you are so adorable.” he whispered but you managed to hear it.

“I asked you if I looked fat here.”

He finally take a look and smirks, “I think you look wonderful wearing my hoodie, love.”

You blushed and smiled. “You are so lucky that you are my boyfriend, (actor name).”

A proud smile spreads across his face while he place a kiss on top of your hand. “I am indeed very lucky, Ma'am.”

You arrived at the parking lot and you gave him a kiss on his lips before leaning away to stare at his eyes. They looked arrogant, people always misunderstood him as intimidating on first look because of his sharp looking eyes. Totally opposite of your types, but he was worth the shot. They might look strong and cold, but they're totally different whenever they're looking at you.

Every time you stare at his eyes, you can feel your eyes heating up and you just want to cry for so many things. A lot of things happened already, but he was there all along. Your past self may not believe it if you got to talk to them months ago from now, but you very much happy right now. Happy without worrying of being left confused the next day or week. Consistent happiness that you never felt for a while.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” he assures you.

With a nod, you left his car and waves. You watch how his car drove off and decided to go inside your building when a familiar headlights went on.

You felt your feet stoned and slowly you glanced at his usual spot. Your heart sank at the sight of his familiar car. Its been months ever since you've seen him.

You blocked him from your phone and tried so hard to avoid him in every possible way. The last thing you remembered that you heard from him is that he announced his break up with the girl he was dating months ago and that he's taking his time off from his group.

His car door opened and you don't understand how to feel at the sight of him. The familiar warmth he gives you was still there, the thumping of heart and stomach churning were all there.

His hair grew longer and his eyes looked so tired and sad reflecting clearly on them. He walks on the passenger side of his car and opened the door.

“Can we talk?” he asks gently. “Please?” he added when he didn't saw any reaction from you.

You let out a sigh and started walking towards him. Instinctively, he rests his hand at the small of your back to guide you inside his car. After making sure you're all set, he went inside and the silence was deafening. It sure is awkward here.

“H-How are you? I heard you're taking a time off.” you started off.

His eyes sets on you and they looked so heartbroken, empty and hurt.

“Baby,” the familiar pet names sends millions of memories on you.

“please take me back.” his voice cracked.

Numerous times Jake attempted to fix what he just broken months ago and failed in all of those times. He knew it was a selfish move to make, but he couldn't take it anymore. At first, he thought that its fine when he saw the first time articles announced you and (actor name) were dating. He was actually briefly happy that you looked happy.

But then as times pass by, he realized that he fucked up so bad. He realized it wasn't him for you anymore when its still you for him until now.

The first time he tried contacting you, his heart sank after he realized you blocked him. You avoided and focused on your career. He tried waiting for you in his usual spot, but you never walked there again, purposely going inside the building through the main door. Everything started to come at him full speed and he wasn't ready for the blow.

Jake’s hope crumbles down when instead of your familiar loving gaze, he was met with a sad look on your face. That’s not what he wants.

How stupid is he to take advantage of you, being too confident that you wouldn’t, in any way, find someone else to replace him? It was his fault. He was denial, but the reality are slowly eating him up and he’s getting weak as time passes by.

“Y/n, please.” his pleading tone almost broke you into bits.

You cannot believe your eyes. The confident and flirtatious Sim Jaeyun was nowhere to be found. All you can see is his soft pleading eyes, tears pooling the sides of his eyes. He looked so... lost and broken.

And you feel so bad.

“I'm sorry, Jake. I think you should leave.” you glanced away and hand reached over the car's door to go out. Coming inside here was a wrong decision.

He was quick to stop you.

“W-Wait,”

You prevent yourself to look at him, afraid that you’ll break down the moment you set eyes on him.

“I know I’m too late already and its all my fault, baby.” he mumbles, sniffing.

'Oh God he's crying. Jake Sim is crying.' you thought to yourself.

“I just want to say that I love you, y/n. I really do and I know to myself that you will always be the only one for me. I can fool myself and try dating someone else, but my heart knows where it belongs.”

Your heart cracked at the sound of his voice and the words that were coming out from his mouth. Never in your life you thought you will here it from him. Too bad, its too late. Love really is about timing sometimes.

You tried your best to glance at him with a small smile. He's in tears and you almost lost control of yourself, but you pull through. A tear escapes your eyes as you cup his face and gently caress it.

“If someday,” he rests as he choke on his own words. “If someday you manage to find your love for me again, come back to me.”

His words were knives straight to your chest, but you tried pushing it out from your mind. You tried hard not to absorb them.

“Goodbye, Jake.” and with that, you left. Since it was so hard for you to ask him to leave, you're the one who left.

Jake was your comfort for quite some time. He was your warmth from the cold, your peace of mind and your soulmate. He will always have a special part in your heart no one else can take, like a childhood blanket that helps you sleep well, a pair of shoe you used to love and wear all the time, a favorite pajamas you wear at night.

You know when sometimes you tend to try out new styles whether its clothes or hair colors, but always find yourself going back to your 'comfort' style. That certain style that comforts you, gives you confidence and destinct warmth, that's Jake Sim for you. He is your style.

But sometimes change is not so bad. Sometimes, stepping out from your comfort zone is a great step for self development, for growth.

Jake Sim is definitely your style, and just like any other phases, they pass. You outgrew them in order to be better. You may leave that phase behind, but great memories you experienced through it, with him, will be cherish forever.

eeunoia 2024 © all rights reserved.

main master-list

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permanent tag-list:

@rubyanne @map-of-border @hwangjangmi @crjwon @love13tter @candewlsy @simpforniki @classicroyalty @bridgebridgebirdiebridge @hime98 @moonsclover @ddeonubaby @yeoungie @acciomylove @mymeloem19 @jvngw0n @dreamjerky @minamoons @clar-iii @herasalvatore @nyfwyeonjun @rcveribin @yizhoutv @one16core @soobin-chois @kyutiepeachy @chareadingpurposes @hwalllllllelujah @solelyenha @90sni-ki @nourhan-8 @nikipedia07 @yangbreads @drunkjazed @kimmchijjajang @hoonbrry @axartia @all4haru @sta-rie @hiqhkey @purplepuppychild @iceeee @wtfhyuck @tobiosbbyghorl @nikililmj @moonlightisland @ayayiiie @aeyeree @bitchychildmiracle

[kekaki-cupcakes]

BONJOUR (〃^ω^〃)

if your requests are open and if you so feel like, I would LOVE (♥ω♥*) to hear your Connor Stoll HCS whether misc or x reader related I care very little, I just want more content of my fav.

Sincerely eternally yours - anon.

ciao! ヽ( 'ω' )ﾉ

Hey I know you requested this ages ago sorry about that. I've also decided to answer requests in order of which one I like the idea of the most instead of time because I feel like I'm stuck on a few old ones lol

Also this was so fun to write and I ended up writing a short story at one point or smthn.

Conner Stoll Headcanons

»»————-　★　————-««

-He sometimes forgets Travis isn’t really his twin.

-As do most people that know them. 

-He’s so sick of the jokes about his last name he and Travis just pretend to not understand anymore.

-The poison sprayed T-shirt given to the Hunter Phoebe, stopping her from going on the quest to save Annabeth wasn’t just a prank on the stern girl. It was on purpose, so that Percy could go instead, but no one really realized that.  

-Once he moved to New York years after the books ended, he rented a flat with a smashed in window and a leaky bathtub. He had to live off one dollar pizza slices for about a year [he loved them] until he saved up and stole enough to afford a better flat with three bedrooms. One was for him, one was for Cecil, and one was for Katie when she visited with Travis. He has a bunk bed that he shares with Travis, but he makes his brother sleep on the top bunk like they did at CHB.

-Unknown to him, Travis’s room at Camp Jupiter has a bunk bed too, and he sleeps on the top every night. He’s studying Law. 

-Once Conner was able to pay rent by the deadlines and had steady shifts at work [and once his diet had gotten a bit better, although pizza slice Friday is a ritual] Chiron finally let Cecil move in.

-It was only really because Cecil wanted to go to highschool properly, and finish it this time instead of being chased from the year ten open day by feral harpy’s. He works at Starbucks part time and Conner drives him to every shift and then Iris messages CHB and talks to his friends in his car while he waits for Cecil to finish. 

-He’s actually really disappointed when Cecil buys a motorbike and doesn’t need lifts to Starbucks anymore, but then his little brother needs someone to pick him up because he crashed into a phone box and he’s back to annoyed chauffeurTM again.

-He owns the shittiest car ever, like, one of those falling apart pickup trucks with fluffy dice and he actually keeps it pretty clean because he’s so proud of it. He calls it ‘Mater’, from the movie Cars, because it’s Cecil’s favorite movie. It’s also covered in bumper stickers. Like, nearly every part of it, and people just hand them to him sometimes to fill in a gap. 

-He joined the local track team, and he’s actually pretty good.

-His guilty pleasure is Taylor Swift’s 1989 album and eating peanut butter MnM’s by the bag even though he hates real MnM’s.  

-He never really wanted to go to University, and the strictness of Camp Jupiter would’ve killed him, so he got a job at the lolly store Sally used to work at, but was fired when he let too many little kids shoplift. 

-Now he’s working at a backpackers lodge instead, and he actually really likes meeting all the traveling people that come through, even though he knows it’s because of his dad. His relationship with Hermes is questionable, mainly because of Luke. 

-He loved his brother but after the Titan war and all the shame put on their cabin he hated Luke with a passion, as did most of his siblings, even if they sort of did understand why he did it all anyway. Conner wouldn’t have joined the Titan Army, but he knows that if the majority of Camp Halfblood was to stage something like that again he probably would. He’s loyal to his siblings and friends, not the gods. 

-Chris Rodriguez agrees on that part. They’ve talked about it a lot. 

-Chris stayed over on the fold out couch enough for him to get a toothbrush in the bathroom and his favorite cereal in the pantry, which is weet-bix bites with honey and blueberries [if someone went to the shops for something other than pink monster energy drinks and grain waves]. He stills lives at Camp Half-blood with Clarrise most of the time and he’s going to University online but has to come in once or twice a week for tests and practical classes. He wanted to be a paramedic but he knew that would be too much stress on him and so would being a therapist.

-Chris is studying nursing and catches a ride with Pollux [who is studying to be a paramedic] sometimes.  

-Then Pollux began staying over sometimes as well.

-And of course there were times when Clarrise would come into the city with her boyfriend to find late night underground fight clubs and visit Coach Hedge [he was the satyr that brought her to CHB].

-Six months pass and Conner’s apartment is a mini Camp Halfblood stop by.

-This is confirmed when Lou Ellen bursts in at three am with a hellhound on her heels and the app Malcom Pace had invented that directed demigods to nearby safe havens when they were in danger.                                                                                                               She explained that his flat had come up and she needed to talk to Austin [who was sleeping on the couch] about how somebody from his cabin had stolen her voodoo doll of Will that they liked to tickle while he was stitching someone up in the Infirmary. 

-He’s accepted it now but sometimes when a random kid shows up covered in blood he sends them to Sally’s apartment [she’s on the app as well]. There’s only so many blow up mattresses and showers long enough to scrub monster grit off a twenty something year old can afford. 

-He gets promoted at the traveler’s lodge, and ends up sending a lot of demigods, nymphs, and satyrs there as well. 

-Chris’s nursing skills help out a lot more than they were hoping.

-So does having Pollux the paramedic on speed dial. 

-He pirates anything he watches, and his favorites are The Last Of Us and Ferris Bueller's day off. He is obligated to watch Cars at least once a week with Cecil, but his favorite Disney movie is The BFG [it used to be the Lion King but then Luke happened and it hit too far home]. 

-He also really liked watching The Hunger Games but then he realized what it reminded him of and now he steers clear. 

-That, and the fact the Castor and Pollux trope is used. 

-Conner hates musicals. 

»»————-　★　————-««

[alearicci]

“you're losing me, charles” – CL16.

pairings: charles leclerc x girlfriend!reader(but name in fic Ann); charles leclerc x ex-girlfriend.

summary: the most difficult breaking is when you and her love each other, but the decision can no longer be changed.

warning: break up, hurt/comfort, sad, a little bit social media au.

song to read: you're losing me - taylor swift.

note: this is just my understanding of how a girl can act when parting. In your thoughts it may be different, but this is a story with my fantasy fiction and therefore, I ask you to treat it with understanding.

It was too painful to write, I feel very bad about parting with people I once loved.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ♡ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Charles Leclerc was sitting on the bed, looking at a photograph of him and his girlfriend Ann standing on the bedside table. The weight of the impending decision weighed heavily on his heart. But he understood that there was no other way out. That if he didn't tell her right now, he wouldn't be able to later. Then this belated conversation can aggravate the situation and make it much worse for both her and him. Charles took the photo in his hands and took the picture out of the frame. He smiled sadly as soon as his eyes met the girl in the photo. Ann. She was always there for him and gave him sincere love. She provided him with such necessary support, gave him the opportunity to feel needed.

Charles involuntarily thought about the day when this photo was taken. It seems that it was the first time she came to a family dinner in his family. Ann immediately liked his mother and brothers, which made the racer very happy. And how can someone not like such a girl?

Charles really loved her. He loved her with all his heart.

But now his heart is asking him to let her go.

The world-famous Formula 1 racer, determined to succeed in his career, knew that sacrifices were inevitable, but he never imagined that he would have to choose between career and love.

He was so eager to become a professional driver, did everything to make his dream come true. He could stay up all night thinking about how to improve the car, he trained until he lost consciousness, he squeezed everything out of himself to succeed. But how can you live without love in our cruel world?

He dreamed of returning home after a hard workout, spending time with his beloved and telling about the past day at the racetrack. He dreamed of seeing his girlfriend in the paddock, she would be wearing his trademark cap and would glow with happiness when he crossed the finish line in the top three. He dreamed of celebrating victory until morning and knowing that his sleeping beauty was waiting for him at home.

He got it and now he will lose it of his own free will. Funny, isn't it? When you love a person and when he loves you, you don't give up on him. But this time it's different.

Ann walked slowly into the room, noticing the thoughtful expression on Charles' face and their shared photo in her hands. A certain anxiety and misunderstanding of the whole situation filled her eyes as she walked towards him.

"Honey, what's wrong? I don't recognize you lately. Are you okay?"

Charles took a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts. It turned out pretty damn bad. He couldn't bring himself to say those terrible words.

"Ann, we need to talk. Please sit down."

Ann sat down next to him, her hand gently touching his arm.

"Of course, Charles. What is it?"

He gently stroked her fingers with his own, finding solace in her touch before breaking the news that would destroy her in just a couple of seconds. And, it is unlikely that he will ever be able to touch her like that again.

"I... I think we should break up."

Ann's eyes widened in disbelief, she let out a nervous laugh and muttered.

"Break up? Charles, are you kidding? I don't really feel like laughing."

Charles plucked up the courage to look into her eyes, his own eyes were full of uncharacteristic sadness, because at any other time his eyes were filled with a mischievous sparkle.

"No, Ann, I'm not kidding. Damn it."

Charles exhaled heavily and bit his lower lip.

"What... What did I do wrong, Charles Leclerc?"

"It's not about you. It's about me and my career. Formula 1 requires a huge level of dedication, and also requires me to always be focused and ready for any turns. I'm not able to properly combine common sense on the track and feelings for you. I just... not worthy of you, you know? I want to spend more time with you so that we can be a normal couple like everyone else, go on frequent dates, stay up all night, dance until morning, but I can't. I'm sorry, but my decision is well thought out and I won't change it."

Ann's voice was shaking with pain. She couldn't believe it would end like this. That he had told her in plain text that she meant nothing to him. That he chooses himself, not them, or even her.

"So you prefer the race to me, right?"

Charles tightened his grip on her hand, his heart clenched in pain from the decision he had made.

"I don't want to lose you, Ann. But I can't ignore the pressure to perform, to constantly give my best on the track. I never wanted this, honey. I never meant to hurt you. But our careers, our aspirations pull us in different directions. The demanding nature of my profession and constant travel do not allow me to give you the time and attention you deserve."

Tears were still gathering in the corners of Ann's eyes as she hurriedly removed her hand from Charles' palm.

"You're losing me, Leclerc. As soon as I started this conversation. If you can't handle everything, then I don't think you really needed me. I thought we could support each other, Charles. I believed that we could handle this together. But it looks like it was all in vain."

Charles swallowed noisily and shouted nervously.

"Ann, our love is sincere and strong, but the reality of my profession is inexorable. Constant travel, intense training, demands on my time... it would be unfair to ask you to wait for me, to put your life on pause."

Charles paused, his voice choked with emotion, and Ann was silent, still trying to be strong.

There was emptiness inside.

With a heavy sigh, he gathered his thoughts and continued: "I don't want to keep you from your dreams, from the opportunities that lie ahead of you. You deserve someone who can be there for you, who can give you the love and support you need. And right now I can't be that person, no matter how much I want to be."

He automatically took Anne's slightly trembling hands in his again, squeezing them to comfort her. To comfort not only her, but also myself.

"Please understand that this decision is also tearing me apart. It's not because I don't love you, but because I love you enough to know it's the right thing to do. We both deserve real happiness and satisfaction, even if it means that our paths diverge."

Ann nodded, trying to smile as sincerely as possible. She knew she couldn't change Charles's mind, but she couldn't not defend her honor. Finally, she abruptly pushed Charles's hands off her own, causing him to round his eyes in surprise and said.

"If this is what you really think is best for your career, Charles, then I won't stand in your way. I hope that you will achieve the success you are striving for. Good luck.

Ann got out of bed and went to the closet to pack her things.

"Ann..."

Charles stood behind her and wanted to hold out his hand to calm her down.

"Silence, Leclerc. Silence. Let me pack my things and get out of your house. And out of your life. I will remain in it only in memories. As your friend said... Daniel, I think his name is. No regrets, only memories. Right. "

Ann's voice traitorously broke from nervous overstrain, which made both her and Charles start in fright.

When Charles reluctantly let Ann go, he couldn't help but wonder if the price he had paid was too high and if success on the racetrack would ever bring him the same joy and happiness that Ann had once brought.

Ann left an hour after their conversation. It took Charles a long time to get used to the idea that she would not come back.

Everything reminds him of her.

Everything reminds her of him.

As soon as Ann got to her apartment, she didn't cry or break the dishes. She went to her Instagram, deleted all joint photos with Charles from her profile and posted a post with a single phrase.

hahaitsann

liked by carlossainz55, arianagrande and 234.379 others

hahaitsann my heart won't start anymore for you

view all 1881 comments

arianagrande: babe are u ok?

⇾hahaitsann: happier than ever

carlossainz55: fck. ann you're alright?

⇾ hahaitsann: of course, ca, don't worry:)

danielricciardo: ann are you home? I will come now.

⇾ hahaitsann: ouuh. no need, dan, tysm.

kellypiquet: girl I'm here

charles_leclerc

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, fancharles1 and other 1.290.300

charles_leclerc i can't find a pulse.

view all 12.328 comments

landonorris: you guys are scaring me, what happened?

⇾ charles_leclerc: nothing just an incident

carlossainz55: charles, can you go to direct and answer me?

fancharles1: WHA-A-AT

⇾ carlossainz55: same reaction mate

sofiestay: I hope you're all right, Charles.

lec16lerc: god what happened?

16charlec: did you and Ann break up?

⇾ janerttb: I think yes, they both don't have pictures in their profiles together. Did you see Ann's post?

⇾ 16charlec: no. but. wtf.

So that's what was supposed to happen. It hurts, yes. But you have to be a strong girl.

[9w1ft]

i wanna be LSK but… //

I’m so sorry anon, but I personally find it really funny when people hear the songs where taylor is working through her feelings of being betrayed by Scott B and attribute them to karlie instead.

It’s like finding a man holding a gun standing over a dead body and saying, hang on a minute… what if the real murderer is the victim’s gf… because two of her friends liked a gossipy tweet written by a known shit-stirrer!

that is to say, we know for a fact that taylor felt deeply betrayed by scott b, seeing as he’s verifiably the actual person who sold her masters to scooter, after treating taylor like family since she was very young. it’s pretty self-evident he deserves the level of vitriol in the smallest man who ever lived (besides the other descriptive details that link him to tsmwel, mtr etc).

as for taylor and karlie suddenly never being seen together again (seemingly drifting apart a whole year before the heist even happened, remember?), well she hasn’t spoken on that, so naturally we read between the lines in the songs to find out. some people have taken the masters heist songs to be about karlie, and ran with that. but others see karlie and taylor’s retreat into privacy reflected in songs under the ‘love blackout’ theme (especially around here, you’re on a longtime kaylor blog 🙈)

love blackout = the hints taylor has put out again and again that she intentionally distanced her public image from karlie’s because it was too dangerous to carry on as openly as they had at first. 2016 election sadness themes, secret love themes, all consistent over the years. all while writing new love songs that use callbacks to the rep muse, to yail even 🥺. as if taylor’s been using all the confusion and her masterful quill of misdirection to achieve her priority of protecting karlie. not protecting karlie’s public image and clout with swifties, which she doesn’t need to maintain her success because she was always successful in her own right! no, it’s all for Karlie The Person in their secret bubble of reality. all this showmanship, you know. the great war, hello!!!! too many songs to name where the kaylor chandelier is safely out of sight, but you can still see flickers through the boarded up windows ❣️

so forgive me for having a chuckle. to any anons who sincerely🛸want to believe, I’m just throwing it out there that there are plenty of us that never found the karlie-betrayer theory convincing at all. if you take a closer look at everything, the timeline of events and all the songs since, does it really make sense? (especially when there are so many shitty men in the mix who are more obviously to blame lol)

~ if you post, thank you for facilitating this rant 9wing, I’ll get off my soapbox now xxx

yup yup

i think a lot of people are predisposed to blaming karlie and so everything becomes a sort of confirmation bias.. which partially, i would argue, was by design.. so in a sense i do not fault gaylors or others for falling into this hole. but i do sometimes feel like faulting them a tiny bit for those who never climb out of it. there’s plenty of information and clues needed to figure it out and climb out of it.

one thing i don’t like about the whole “let’s not talk about muses” discourse is while the spirit of it is supposed to be “let’s study why these songs sound gay instead of commenting taylor lyrics on these people’s instagram pages,” in practice the phrasing almost is like giving yourself permission to pass judgement on the people in taylor’s story and then never reevaluate them. people often say ~lets not talk muses that’s invasive and gross~ and conveniently refuse to adjust their perception of karlie (for example) based on what taylor is putting out there, while making convenient exceptions for any interpretation they find that works to reinforce their already negative perception of her. and then after bitching about her they’ll cover their timeline in lisa frank dolphins because apparently that’s what paradise is. i dunno. it all feels dystopian to me atp 😆

[taylorsmidnights14]

At this hearing I stand before my fellow members

of the Tortured Poets Department

With a summary of my findings

A debrief, a detailed rewinding

for the purpose of warning

for the sake of reminding

as you might all unfortunately recall

I had been struck with a case

Of a restricted humanity

which explains my plea here today

Of temporary i n s a n i t y

You see, the pendulum swings

Oh, the chaos it brings

leads the caged beast to do

the most curious things.

Lovers spend years denying what's ill fated

resentment rotting away

galaxies we created

Stars placed and glued

meticulously by hand

Next to the ceiling fan

Tired wishing on comets

Tried dimming the shine.

Tried to orbit his planet.

Some stars never align.

And in one conversatin, I tore down the whole sky

spring sprung forth with dazzling freedom hues

then a crash from the skylight

bursting through

Something old, something hallowed

who told me he could be brand new.

And so I was out of the oven

And into the microwave

out of the slammer and into a tidal wave

How gallant to save the empress

from her gilded tower.

Swinging a sword he could barely lift

But loneliness struck at that fateful hour

Low hanging fruit on his wine stained lips

He never even scratched the surface

of me

None of them did.

"In summation, it was not a love affair"

I screamed while bringing my fists

to my coffee ringed desk

It was a mutual manic phase.

It was self harm.

It was house and then cardiac arrest.

A smirk creeps onto this poet's face.

Because it's the worst men that I write best.

And so I enter into evidence

My tarnished coat of arms

My muses, acquired like bruises

My talismans and charms

The tick, tick, tick of love bombs

My veins of pitch black ink

All's fair in love and poetry

Sincerely,

The Chairman

of The Tortured Poets Department

"In Summation", a poem by Taylor Swift

@taylorswift @taylornation

[marsalaqueen]

Ok, I have a sad theory about Alex Turner's relationships with his women and his music, that is, I hope, not 100% true. And I do want to share it with you!

The concept is that Alex takes only inspiration from his girlfriends for the new albums, write lyrics about them, but not really love them. And the only person whom he is in love with is Miles Kane.

Before we start I'd like to say that I don't wanna blame or offend anyone. I personally do not know any of the people described below and I can be wrong about them. I respect everything they do, and in fact I sympathize with absolutely every character. All the thoughts described below came to my mind only during a small investigation of some Alex's texts, which hooked me with their references even though sometimes they are not obvious.

Sooo, let's begin with Johanna Bennett. They were dating in 2005-2007, Alex was 19, for sure just a kid. The development of Arctic Monkeys has just begun, first album, first fame and fans confession. In fact, there is little information about them on the Internet, and the only thing I found was what he recorded with her "Fluorescent Adolescent". I can't say anything about specifically her influence on the first albums, because the press did not really catch their relationship. Then let's slowly move on to the favorite of most fans Alexa Chung.

Alexa was a real match. Their names, appearance and magnetic charisma spoke for themselves. They were dating from 2007 to 2011, Humbug and Suck It and See were released in this period (Favorite Worst Nightmare was recorded before her). And if in Humbug I can’t clearly trace any references (except perhaps Crying Lightning), then SIAS is one continuous declaration of love to Alexa. It has a lot more melancholic, romantic, incredibly touching songs - «She’s Thunderstorms», «Reckless Serenade», «Piledriver Waltz», «Love Is a Laserquest», «Suck It and See» and others. There is no doubt that the main source of inspiration was Alexa. And when Alex performed live She’s Thunderstorms after their split, the bitter pain was felt throughout the song. I mean, read some lyrics from SIAS:

Your love is like a studded leather headlock

Your kiss it could put creases in the rain

You're rarer than a can of dandelion and burdock

And those other girls are just postmix lemonade;

The type of kisses where teeth collide

When she laughs, the heavens hum a stun gun lullaby

Those twinkling vixens with the shining spiral eyes

Their hypnosis goes unnoticed when she's walking by

And I do believe that Chung was his last true love. Some sort of a special chemistry could be seen between them, a strong real feeling. Alexa was loving, easy and sincere, just like SIAS.

But after only a month in 2011 he started dating Arielle Vandenberg, a Hollywood actress. With her they had their best (commercially and judging by the love of the audience) album AM. IT was cheeky, luxurious, sexy - posh as an American dream, whose incarnation can be called Arielle. She was in R U Mine? and One For The Road clips (maybe even in some more), she is definitely his Arabella starting at least from the leopard coat that she often wore. In a word, she fit well into the concept of AM. They also looked cute with him, drinking together in bars and wearing damn cool Halloween costumes. And, more importantly, she got along with the rest of the members, as did Alexa, by the way!

Several months passes and Alex is in a relationships again - this time with a model Taylor Bagley, the most chaotic and crazy one (in a good way). After stunning success of AM Monkeys are taking a hiatus, and Alex starts having fun with Miles. We come to the intriguing part. During their relationship with Taylor, they are recording a new album with TLSP, which, in addition to the sound of vintage soul with strings, is also very romantic and poignant. What they did with Miles on stage is another story, but we'll get to that later. So, he and Taylor got paired tattoos with their names, he literally wrote at least "Sweet Dreams, TN" about her (Although being born in Oklahoma, she states in interviews that she considers herself a Nashville, Tennessee, native and she has a piercing in her nose), by the way, she also made a tattoo with the name of this song. Together with Miles they hang out at her house with a pool and dog; she is in "Bad Habits" clip, and in general they are real safely threesome. They are crazy, drunk and happily doing some odd things, like the 2nd TLSP album.

And finally we are coming to the most provocative part. Louise Verneuil. I will not say whether he cheated on Bagley with her or not, but the time between the breakup and the new relationship was negligible. Rumors say that Louise was almost in his dressing room backstage while he was still in a relationship with Taylor. So, so far, their relationship with the French singer is the longest he's ever had (2018-till now). Visually, I am insanely impressed with how they look together, they complement each other incredibly, if only because Louise is finally lower than him ahahaha. She is petite and flirtatious, infused with the spirit of the 70s and Jane Birkin. Look at her clips (Love Corail, Desert and etc.), and then at the Car....

Yes, he produced some videos for her, so maybe they are similar. But his style of Alain Delon, the image of the horny teacher of geography from the 70s, scarves at concerts and so on - all this gives off the atmosphere of Louise. For example, a There'd Better Be a Mirrorball clip, in which, by the way, there is Louise as well.

The only thing that confuses everyone is her bad relationship with fans (I saw a screenshot of the correspondence somewhere, where she rudely asked the girl to remove the photo with Alex from her stories), scandals with likes on posts about rape, photos of Alex once in a while a year, and the absence of Alex's sincere smile next to her, let's be honest. And one important notice - he stopped celebrating Halloween with Louise, which he apparently loved very much, as he always carefully approached the choice of costume (my favorite is Florence and the Machine with Arielle, it's fantastic)

Let's sum up a little. 1) Since 2005 Alex cannot be without a relationship for more than 4-5 months, which is not normal obviously. He seems to be afraid of being alone, thinking that he will not find inspiration for a new album, or, in principle, he has a fear of loneliness. 2) Vibes of all his albums are a reflection of his girls. Next to them he changes also. 3) Remember the evolution of his images, in addition to age and interests, the style of girls also influences him. With Alexa, it’s simple T-shirts and old jeans, while she is in plain dresses and shorts with knee socks; with Arielle he is in tight pants and leather jackets, and she is in extravagant coats and heels; with Taylor he is in colorful suits and flared pants, and she is in very short tops with pink hair; with Louise he is in corduroy jackets and white shirts, whilst she in vintage jeans and flowing blouses - boom, all matches! 4) Obviously he has a type of girls with a square face, blond hair and bangs. The only one who deviated much from this type was Taylor. 5) I have not seen him hugging, laughing and kissing someone the way Miles Kane does, next to whom he literally glows, not afraid to show himself, not afraid to be real, foolish, but really himself.

Perhaps happiness loves silence and Alex, as a not very public person, keeps all the feelings between him and his woman, but he is too open next to Miles, not afraid to show his feelings in public, which raises some doubts.

I would like to write a separate final post about Al and Miles, if it is necessary at all. Please let me know if any of this resonated with you, and if I can flesh out any of these points to you in more detail, I will do so with pleasure!

[alicewonderao3]

Begin Again

Title: Begin Again

Characters: Aaron Hotchner, fem!reader,

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Summary: She's spent the last few months mourning her lost love. Can Aaron show her that love is never truly lost?

Warnings: None, just fluff.

Word count: 986

Authors note: I was listening to Begin Again by Taylor Swift today and this made me think of Aaron. This is the third story this song has inspired, by the way. I plan to write a version of this, sort of different, with Spencer Reid, because it'll be so great. Writing this made me wish I could go on a coffee date of my own with Aaron Hotchner. I have no beta, so all spelling and grammar mistakes are mine. I don't own the song, I just borrow it. Let me know what you think, and as always, enjoy!

This was my first date since things had ended. It was a regular Saturday morning. I slipped into my heels and fixed my hair, making sure I looked just right. I turned and locked the door, sliding my headphones in as I walked down the street, the warm sunshine falling on my shoulders. The song changes and I think about how my ex hated this song. 

It's one of my favorites, a song that makes my feet feel lighter as I walk down the street, approaching the coffee shop. I almost expect to be waiting, but to my surprise, I see him, leaning against the wall of the shop, his head focused on a phone in front of him. He looks up, and his eyes meet mine and I smile, as he waves at me. 

His hand rests on the small of my back as he guides me into the busy coffee shop, and to my surprise, he even pulls the chair out for me, helping me in as he takes his seat. Aaron Hotchner is gorgeous. His dark hair and dark eyes almost shine in the lights from the shop, making me smile at him as he sips his coffee and gives me his undivided attention. 

Aaron's an FBI agent, working for an elite unit that helps track down and put away dangerous criminals. He's observant, and funny and charming, his laugh ringing out as his head tips back. He tells me I'm funny, and it strikes me as odd, remembering how my ex always said I couldn't land a joke ever. I'd spent the last 10 months watching love fall apart and burn. 

We shared the same love of music, talking about our favorite artists and our favorite dishes and musicals, his face is animated, lit up from within as he talks about everything, including his son Jack. He shows me a picture, and the boy is adorable, with the same hair and eyes as Aaron. He tells me about his job, about his team and it's clear he cares for them. 

He's so serious, but at the same time, the warmth that I feel as he talks to me, as he laughs at my jokes makes my heart skip a beat. I look up at him shyly as he keeps his hand on the small of my back, guiding me through the busy crowds. He catches my gaze and as my cheeks flush a delicate shade of pink, he just grins down at me, his eyes twinkling with a hidden laugh. 

It's enough to make me swoon, and I know I'm a goner, even as we walk in the park, as we find out we share favorite movies and favorite foods. But it's the way he's genuinely interested in me, the way he gives me his undivided attention, those gorgeous brown eyes of his staring into mine. He's so handsome, so graceful, so kind. 

I've never had kind before. It's nice, as we walk back out of the park, and back to the coffee shop, where his car is parked. I meet his eyes. "I had so much fun today, Aaron," I said softly. I watch him smile, that twinkle in his eyes that makes my heart skip a beat again, as he looks down at me, the wind ruffling his dark hair, his leather jacket over his black polo shirt reminding me of how handsome he is. 

"I did too." He says, looking down at me. I hold his gaze, my lips pulling up into a smile, as he goes from charming man to fumbling schoolboy, as he asks for my number. He tells me he's busy, that his job sometimes demands that he's gone for work more than he'd like, but he seems sincere in his desire to get to know me better, so I give him my number. 

The smile that spreads across his face makes me melt. Aaron is gorgeous, and kind and funny, but his smile warms my heart, and when he directs it at me, it's like I'm the only person in the entire world and I never want to lose that feeling. It reminds me of standing in the warm sunshine on a cold winter morning, sipping hot tea and I want him to be a part of my life. 

And then he hugs me, wrapping his strong arms around my body, pulling me in close. It's the best hug I've ever got in my life and the warm feeling that continues to spread through me as he holds me makes me hold onto him tighter. "I'll see you again, right?" I asked him, as I pulled back from the hug and watched him shoot me that charming smile again, the one he doesn't even realize is charming. 

"Of course, honey." He says and I melt again, the affectionate word making me swoon again. I lean up on impulse, pressing my soft lips to his cheek, feeling the stubble there. "I can't wait to see you again, Aaron," I murmur, as we go our separate ways. I make it home, and as I close my front door, my phone buzzes with a text: Aaron. 

"I had such a good time with you today. Dinner Friday?" 

The text makes me grin, leaning against the door, as my heart beats faster, as I slide down the door and think about after watching my love fall apart, watching it burn and break and hurt, I'm right back where I started, watching love begin again. I send him a text back, a large grin on my face. "Yes. Dinner sounds wonderful, Aaron." 

On a Saturday, in a coffee shop, Aaron Hotchner gave me hope for love anew, and I was going to hold onto this with both hands. Something told me not to let him go, that Aaron Hotchner, was special. I'd find out later just how right I was. 

[melaniealeman]

In Summation by Taylor Swift

At this hearing

I stand before my fellow members of The Tortured Poets Department

With a summary of my findings

A debrief, a detailed rewinding

For the purpose of warring

For the sake of reminding

As you might all unfortunately recall

I had been struck with a case of a restricted humanity

Which explains my plea here today of temporary i n s a n I t y

You see, the pendulum swings

Oh, the chaos it brings

Leads the caged beast to do the most curious things

Lovers spend years denying what’s ill fated

Resentment rotting away galaxies we created

Stars placed and glued meticulously by hand next to the ceiling fan

Tried wishing on comets

Tried dimming the shine

Tried to orbit his planet

Some stars never align

And in one conversation, I tore down the whole sky

Spring sprung forth with dazzling freedom hues

Then a crash from the skylight bursting through

Something old, something hallowed, who told me he could be brand new

And so I was out of the oven and into the microwave

Out of the slammer and into a tidal wave

How gallant to save the empress from her gilded tower

Swinging a sword he could barely lift

But loneliness struck at that fateful hour

Low hanging fruit on his wine stained lips

He never even scratched the surface of me.

None of them did.

“In summation, it was not a love affair!”

I screamed while bringing my fists to my coffee ringed desk

It was a mutual manic phase.

It was self harm.

It was house and then cardiac arrest.

A smirk creeps onto this poet’s face

Because it’s the worst men that I write best.

And so I enter into evidence

My tarnished coat of arms

My muses, acquired like bruises

My talismans and charms

The tick, tick, tick of love bombs

My veins of pitch black ink

All’s fair in love and poetry

Sincerely,

The Chairman of The Tortured Poets Department

[taylor-on-your-dash]

Summary Poem by Taylor Swift

In Summation

At this hearing

I stand before my fellow members

of the Tortured Poets Department

With a summary of my findings

A debrief, a detailed rewinding

For the purpose of warning

For the sake of reminding

As you might all unfortunately recall

I had been struck with a case of a restricted humanity

Which explains my plea here today of temporary i n s a n i t y

You see, the pendulum swings

Oh, the chaos it brings

Leads the caged beast to do the most curious things

Lovers spend years denying what's ill fated

Resentment rotting away galaxies we created

Stars placed and glued meticulously by hand next to the ceiling fan

Tried wishing on comets.

Tried dimming the shine.

Tried to orbit his planet.

Some stars never align.

And in one conversation,

I tore down the whole sky.

Spring sprung forth with dazzling freedom hues

Then a crash from the skylight bursting through

Something old, someone hallowed, who told me he could be brand new

And so I was out of the oven and into the microwave

Out of the slammer and into a tidal wave

How gallant to save the empress from her gilded tower

Swinging a sword he could barely lift

But loneliness struck at that fateful hour

Low hanging fruit on his wine stained lips

He never even scratched the surface of me.

None of them did.

“In summation, it was not a love affair!”

I screamed while bringing my fists to my coffee ringed desk

It was a mutual manic phase.

It was self harm.

It was house and then cardiac arrest.

A smirk creeps onto this poet's face

Because it's the worst men that I write best.

And so I enter into evidence

My tarnished coat of arms

My muses, acquired like bruises

My talismans and charms

The tick, tick, tick of love bombs

My veins of pitch black ink

Sincerely, The Chairman of The Tortured Poets Department

[francesderwent]

Hello! I hope this doesn't come across as a Taylor-bashing question. While I believe that artists should be able to sing/write/create about their lived experience, there's something about the way Taylor handled mental health in this album that rubbed me the wrong way. I'll try to put it succinctly in three points: 1) TTPD seems to spill out the mental health issues/depression of Joe Alwyn, who seems like a very private person. I don't want to bring celebrity drama into this, but there's something discomfiting abot Taylor being more subtle and silent about his mental illness when they were together, and then spilling about it when they've broken up. 2) The way that she writes about mental illness/depression strikes me as hurtful. An example: "You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days." The takeaway seems to be an accusation that the subject chose his depression over her, which is...iffy. 3) The aesthetic of her album seems to be 'insanity' and 'mental torture' and, especially given the above two, it seems to be in poor taste?

I don't mean that Taylor shouldn't write about her experience about being resentful for a partner's mental illness/how they handled it, it just seems she's threading a sketchy line and I'm not sure if she handled that very well. But, I would really appreciate it if you have another way of looking at this. I do like Taylor's songs, and I appreciate your insights to them!

well first of all I sincerely love you for numbering your ask, it’s so readable and coherent. bless!! I’ll answer in order:

I think she absolutely was not any more subtle or silent about his struggles while they were together. his sadness has been all over so many of her love songs about him, using the exact same images that she brings back in ttpd. she says in hoax, “don’t want no other shade of blue but you, no other sadness in the world would do”. and she talks in the long pond sessions about this for her being an example of true love, the person you want to be with in really dark times. in renegade she says “the shape of you was jagged and weak, there was nowhere for me to stay, but I stayed anyway”. a lot of what she says in ttpd is a purposeful callback to words of love she spoke in earlier songs, not undoing them, but mourning the fact they weren’t enough. mirrorball says “I’m still trying everything to get you laughing at me”, So Long London says “I stopped trying to make him laugh, stopped trying to drill the safe”. it’s not about airing his private business, she doesn’t give us any more details now than she did when they were in love. the only difference is in how it made her feel.

I don’t think Taylor is saying that her partner chose depression over her, or that it’s his fault for not pulling himself out of it. if we look at You’re Losing Me along with this album, I think it’s abundantly clear that the reason she left is because She Wanted To Be Married. “do something babe, say something. choose something babe, I’ve got nothing to believe unless you’re choosing me.” “are we really gonna talk about timing in times like these??” she wanted them to choose each other despite everything difficult and sad. and he simply never did. you can say that a huge commitment like that would be horrifically hard for a person deeply depressed, but she waited six years, and he was showing more interest in anything but her (“I’m the best thing at this party” “I founded the club she’s heard great things about” “it’s not right to be scared every day of a love affair” “fell victim to interlopers’ glances”). “is it your anxiety that stops you from giving me everything or do you just not want to?” indeed.

I don’t think there’s any reason to assume this is merely an album aesthetic. I don’t necessarily take it as literal-diagnostic as some other commenters have, but when Taylor talks about her mental health on this album, I think we can take her pretty seriously. “how much sad did you think I had”, “am I allowed to cry”, “you don’t get to tell me about sad” are repeated through this album, but it’s not new. “I’m with you even if it makes me blue” in Paper Rings, “when my depression works the graveyard shift all of the people I ghosted stand there in the room” in Anti-Hero, “a house, not a home, all alone 'cause nobody's there, where I pace in my pen and my friends found friends who care” from Dear Reader. she’s suffering too. the breakdown that happens over the course of this album is not a performance, it is very very real and a long time coming.

tldr: I think she really really loved him. and she loved him while both of them were really sad. he didn’t choose depression over her, but he also didn’t choose her, and that finally broke her. she has every right to leave a relationship that’s dragging on and never going anywhere to seek somebody who wants the same life she does.