#I may very well come back to it next year! Or I may not. I really couldn't say. So I'm not offering any timeline for the hiatus right now.

[racoon3lizabeth]

Art critics at work: part three

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

summary: remus can’t wait for the next time he sees you and sirius manages to figure out his best friend.

notes: hellooooo!! hope you like this chapter, tell me what you thiiiink. AND BTW I hope you guys know I accept requests for like mini fics and blurbs!!

One day isn’t very long. There’s only twenty four hours after all. But when he settled down behind his wheel, clutching the leather until his knuckles turned white, he simply couldn’t wait.

He fumbles with his hands, letting go of the wheel and finding his phone deep in his pocket. Clicking the side button, chewing on his lower lip when he sees the time. 16:05. It was even worse than he thought. Not just twenty four hours but twenty five.

In a few quick motions Remus opened up his chat with Sirius. Leaning back into the car seat as he starts typing.

You’re late again

Am I?

Yeah fuck

Okey I’m running

🏃‍♀️‍➡️🏃‍♀️‍➡️🏃‍♀️‍➡️

Enough with the emojis!!

That’s so mean😞

—————————————————————————————————

After a few very long minutes a flushed and panting Sirius appeared outside of the car window. “I’m so sorry,” he apologises the second he opens the door.

“S’alright,” the other man brushed it off with a dismissive hand. He’s used to Sirius' problems when it comes to arriving on time. “C’mon hop in.” Remus urges, nodding his head in the direction of the passenger seat.

Sirius does like his friend tells him to, settling down in the leather seat and closing the door after him, putting on his seatbelt with a tired sigh. Without even so much as asking he quickly reaches out with his ring clad hand, fiddling with Remus' car so that his phone is connected to the stereo.

He always tends to do this, overusing his rights as the person in the passenger seat.

“Only good music,” Remus demands, driving out of the school's parking lot.

He could argue with Sirius and tell him that it's his car, he’s the one who gets to choose the music. But he also knows better than that. He’s unfortunately known the man since they were eleven years old, he knows that Sirius could easily take him down in a fight.

Sirius arches a single black eyebrow, his gaze focused on his phone as he smiles widely. “You have such a weird idea of what good music is.” He comments as he scrolls on his phone, trying to decide what to listen to, sending Remus a coy smile when he hears a faint scoff coming out of the history professor.

Like every other day Sirius eventually puts on Queen. It’s something he and Remus can always agree on.

Tranquility gradually settled over them like a nice warm blanket, despite the fact that Brian May was having another wild guitar solo in the background. It’s the kind of silence that comes from having known someone for such a long time. There’s no secrets left and most certainly no uncomfortableness. They can talk about everything, well maybe not everything.

There’s one thing Remus has always struggled to talk about.

“What do you think about the new art professor?” Sirius questions curiously, not knowing the depth of what he’s actually asking. “I reckon she’s a hundred times better than that substitute they hired for like two months.”

Remus swallows thickly as he turns the wheel, getting closer to their shared apartment. Yes he’s a man in his late twenties, soon thirties, that has a roommate. What’s the big deal?

“She’s nice.” He acknowledged, clearing his throat. Hoping that Sirius would drop it.

Sirius' perfect black eyebrows furrow slightly, crossing his arms over his chest. Unintentionally also covering up his favourite ABBA t-shirt. “Nice?” He interrogated, a hint of disbelief entering his tone. “But you ate lunch with her. She must be more than nice.” Sirius pointed out and god does Remus regret telling him that.

Remus offers him a half shrug, his rose coloured cheeks saying something completely different. “I don’t know,” he sighs, clearly trying to completely shut down the conversation, never bringing it up again.

To Remus' surprise Sirius is actually silent for a few moments. Until he can’t hold it in any longer. “Just nice?” He questions, still not believing Remus. They ate lunch together outside. Not just in the cafeteria like teachers normally do.

“Yeah nice.” He repeated, the word nice tasting awfully strange on his tongue, feeling like they’re just going back and forth now.

Sirius observed him with narrowed eyes, studying Remus. Pulling back a loose strand of black hair that fell down in his face. “Alright.” he gives up, glancing out the car window. Watching their street flashing by, their apartment getting closer and closer.

They finally arrive by their front door, Remus parking as close as he can so he won’t have to walk more than necessary. It’s not that he's lazy, actually quite the opposite. His hip and sometimes knees just tend to ache. Especially when it’s cold outside.

Sirius rattles with his keys in front of Remus face teasingly, the two walking up the stairs to the door. “You know,” he smiles. “She’s not just nice is she? I think you like her.”

Twenty four or twenty five hours, it doesn’t matter. Because they eventually passed by.

You didn’t get very much time before your last class and the beginning of the parent teacher meeting and unfortunately your last class of the day isn't by any means the oldest. So before running through the hallways to try arriving on time, even though the meeting started ten minutes ago, you needed to clean away blotches of paint and brushes.

With fingers coated in different acrylic paints you hesitantly reached for the doorknob. You truly didn’t want to be that teacher. That teacher who comes off as completely ignorant and uncaring about their students. Which you’re not, you could never be. Your timing was just wrong and honestly unfair.

The second you opened the door all eyes were on you. The hope of sneaking in unnoticed immediately shredding into pieces.

Remus' head jolts up when he hears the door shut. He’s been waiting patiently, or not so patiently as Sirius kept teasing him. Apparently his foot had been tapping against the chair's leg to the point where Sirius completely lost it.

He observes you with curious eyes, softening when they finally meet. Extending a hand, subtly gesturing for you to sit down on the chair on his right.

You shuffle over, apologising over and over to the people who need to stand so that you can get through. “Hi,” you breathe, a bit out of breath. Your eyes flickering over to the familiar man on Remus' right. His shoulder length raven curls pulled up into a low messy bun, a few strands falling out. Wearing one of his usual band t-shirts.

“Sirius right?” You extend a hand, giving Sirius a good firm shake before you sit down next to Remus. “I’m y/n, the new art teacher.” You introduce yourself.

The music teacher's forehead creases, lips twitching upwards. “Yeah,” he nods, sending Remus a teasing gaze. “Nice to meet you.” he replies kindly, looking back at you and then settling his gaze forward on the whiteboard.

The meeting returns to normal, the headmaster McGonagall standing at the front. Talking about a trip to France that might be happening for the students studying French.

Truly there’s really no real point in all of the other teachers being there. It’s just to look good and so that the parents can get a chance to talk to them if they have any questions or concerns.

Remus does try to concentrate, at least for a few minutes, but he can’t when you’re sitting next to him. He just wants to know everything about you and he doesn’t want the conversation to be short. He wants it to last for a long time, wanting to know every single little detail.

After spending a few seconds thinking, which he could’ve spent listening to the ongoing meeting, he finally leans in a bit so that he can whisper:

“Why were you late?”

You really couldn’t concentrate either since his thigh was only a few millimetres away from yours. You were waiting, patiently just like Remus, heart accelerating inside your chest. “I needed to clean up from my last class.” You explain quietly, making sure no one else can hear you.

Remus brows raised, pulling together. “Which class?” He questions. Rolling up the sleeves of his dark green sweater up to his elbows. You’ve noticed he wears a lot of those. Not that you’re complaining.

“They’re in year nine I think,” you whisper. “I haven’t really learned which classes are called what.” You admit somewhat sheepishly.

“Ah,” he nods, knowing how the ones in year nine can get sometimes. “Most of them are nice and well mannered. But you’re also new. They’ll get better soon when they’ve warmed up to you and if they don’t I'll tell ’em off.” He warns playfully, his nervousness slowly starting to wear off.

You snicker quietly, the wild and eager butterflies in your stomach getting worse when he smiles at you adoringly with those perfect deep brown eyes. An uncomfortable lump building in your throat, stopping your words from coming out.

Remus starts to feel a faint lightheadedness and glances back to the front of the room. Making a very weak attempt at actually listening. He’s never felt the urge to continue talking to someone, to keep the conversation alive. At least not as strong. Remus has always been a rather reserved person, the few people getting him out of his shell being his three best friends.

You try to ignore how your mouth is starting to feel more like a desert, swallowing desperately and subtly peering back on the history teacher. Whose mind also seems to be somewhere else.

“Mr Lupin,” you whisper, smiling nervously when he turns his head to look at you. Your faces suddenly unintentionally become very close, both of you flinching back. “How did you manage to save my seat?” Referring to the fact that every single chair in the medium sized auditorium is being used.

Remus manages to maintain eye contact, almost a bit proud of himself. “I pulled some strings,” he answered, lips curling into a lopsided grin, folding his hands in his lap.

It became quite apparent that Sirius catched a bit of the conversation. Because he quickly leaned forward up and behind Remus, leaning his arms on the top of the chair so that he can talk to you. “He yelled at a few people actually,” Sirius tells you proudly.

Remus' eyes widened comically, mouth slightly parted. “No hey, that's not true!” He defends himself just a bit too loud, a few of the parents turning around to send them annoyed glances.

He presses his lips tightly together, nostrils flaring as he exhales deeply. “That’s not true.” He murmurs through gritted teeth. Avoiding both yours and Sirius's eyes.

Due to the fact that Remus is staring down into his lap you take your chance and tilt your head to your left, raising a questioning eyebrow as you face Sirius.

A sly smirk spreads across his face, mouthing the word yes so that Remus won’t hear. But Remus knows better than that.

“What are you doing Sirius?”

“Mhm? Nothing,” Sirius lifts his hands up in mock surrender. Removing his arms from the chair, leaning back against it again. Starting to fiddle with the silver rings on his hands, one ring on every single finger. “Y/n? Does Remus have your number?” He asks, leaning forward to once again catch eyes with you, waggling his eyebrows. Knowing exactly what he’s doing.

Remus opens his mouth to answer, but you get there before him. “No, I don't think so. Why?”

“Just wondering,” Sirius shrugs, knowing he’s in for a real scolding later. “It’s rather important though, if something happens.” He ponders quietly but loud enough for both of them to hear him.

After that little interruption from Sirius' part it took you some time to gain the courage to actually comment on what Sirius said. So much time that the meeting ended and you panicked, not wanting to lose this incredible chance.

Just as he stands up, on his way to leave, you gain his attention by not rising from your chair. Everyone was on their way out, why weren’t you leaving?

“You know,” you begin to say as he finally looks at you with confusion written all over his face. “I think he was right. I might need your number,” you declare, realising you sounded a bit desperate. “For work purposes, you know. If something happens.” You add quickly, feeling how your skin begins to prickle with warmth, pink appearing on your cheeks.

Remus can’t help but look around before he answers, as if he’s afraid someone could hear you. “Uhm,” he stutters, his chin held close to his body before he properly looks up at you. “Yeah. For work purposes obviously.”

—————————————————————————————————

tags: @amatoanima @po3tbbygirl @lettertovera @allformoony @ladyaida @ilovejamespottersomuch @jamesweather

[girl-lostconnection]

Christmas already passed but winter didn’t. Therefore I’m not too late with my winter snippets about Perchta!König and Malanka!Reader.

Trying to find the right carol of the bells version for this thing, god, I love Christmas stories

For some context Perchta is a mythological entity/goddess from Alpine paganism in the Upper German, Austrian and Slovenian regions of Alps. In the folklore of Bavaria and Austria Perchta was said to roam the countryside during 12 days between Christmas and Twelfth night (25th Dec to 6th Jan)

So Perchta would know whether the children of the house had behaved well and worked hard all year. (Basically if you were on the naughty or nice list)

If they had, they could find a small silver coin the next day in their shoe.

If they had not, she would slit their bellies open, remove their stomach and guts, and stuff the hole with straw and pebbles. (Alpine paganism truly was built different)

She was particularly concerned to see that girls had spun the whole of their allotted portion of flax or wool during the year.

The tradition of celebrating with Perchta is still alive in Austria, they have cool wooden masks and actors that dress up and walk on stilts, I encourage you to read more if the topic got you curious.

My Perchta König is loosely based on Bluegiragi’s Percht!König because they did fantastic job with designing him as a monster. But mine would be different because it’s a very different setting

Malanka is a Ukrainian folk holiday celebrated on 31st of December which is New Year’s currently. Before it was celebrated on 13th of January but we switched calendars so... Anyways-

Malanka was named after goddess Mylanka (meaning “the loved one”) formerely named Spring-May that got snatched to the underworld by her kind of evil uncle god (I’m looking at you Hades and Persephone) but got rescued and unlike her Greek counterpart never had to marry anyone. Or come back to the underworld.

Her mom (Mother Earth) just locked the cycle of spring and rebirth and got her child back. 10/10

There are no descriptions of how Mylanka actually looked so I took some liberties and considering that Reader is rather the embodiment of the holiday, I had some more creative freedom.

If anyone would be curious about references after reading the snippet itself — hit me up. I’m dying to talk about it. That’s just a context post

[a-whispering-echo]

more canon-ish au where Dust pisses Nightmare off one too many times by trying to fuck off back to his au that Nightmare just locks him in the basement - or dungeons, really - as a chew toy for Killer, and a food source for himself :)

maybe one day, Cross and Kilelr finish up a mission, and Killer pushes Cross through the portal he just forced him to make, and tells him that 'trying to run off like that will have you ending up like Dusty' - to which Cross is very confused. whos 'Dusty?'

maybe he goes to Horror, and asks him who this mystery person is. and maybe Horror freezes up for a moment.

maybe Horror tells him about Dust, maybe he doesnt. maybe he tells Cross that once upon a time, there was a moment where the three of them were friends, before Dust started picking fights harsher with Nightmare and Killer when he was brought back kicking and screaming from his latest escape attempt, before Killer because so manipulated and forced into being someone hes not by Nightmare.

Maybe Horror tells him this as he prepares a bowl of soup, to give to Dust in hopes of keeping alive a little longer. to raise his HP just a SMIDGE so he might survive the night. maybe he does it out of kindness, or maybe out of cruelty - maybe he hates Dust so much for what he did that he wants the fucker to suffer just a little longer.

or maybe Horror doesnt tell Cross anything.

Maybe Cross finds Dust on his own one day. sees the pile on the floor, unmoving and still. maybe he Checks him - something considered RUDE, but, well... Dust isnt exactly in the to complain, right?

Sans Murder Dust - Lv20 ATK - 145 DEF - 98 HP - 70/1250

*Too DETERMIND to give up.

and maybe Cross takes pity.

maybe, he comes back a few days later, pockets full of Monster Candy, and sees Dust awake. Sitting up in the corner, silent, just watching him come in. The walls have more gouges and cracks than the last time, and the bowl that Horror may have brought is shattered in the corner.

Maybe Cross checks him again, and reads his DEF - 102. Jesus, he is NOT trusted right now..

and maybe Cross then summons a bone attack, putting no Intent to harm into it (hell, maybe he even unconsciously put HEALING Intent into it, and by GOD doesnt THAT tell you something, because Cross ISNT a healer) before he raises the attack at Dust, making sure he for certain sees it, before Checking him again - DEF 159.

and thats EXACTLY what Cross thought would happen.

Dust isnt anywhere NEAR as far gone as Horror, or even Killer or Nightmare seem to think. Because hes raising his Defence around attacks. he doing that instinctively, instinctively trying to protect himself from thing he KNOWS are going to hurt him. so that he LIVES.

So Cross dismisses the attack. apologises for scaring him (and for the Checks) and chucks him the candy. 10hp a piece isnt great, especially when you Max Hp is as high as Dusts is, but its SOMETHING. and that gives Dust more strength than hes had in years.

And maybe Dust is gone the next time Cross comes to see him.

Or maybe hes not. Maybe hes still stuck there, waiting, forever, in a place he wants out of desperately, but cant.

Who am I to say, after all?

[heartofbusan]

Creative recreation. 

Conversations that were initiated years and years ago suddenly appear tanglible and real, like out of nowhere. That imagined future version of you suddenly becomes tangible.

What does the future hold?

As their discharge date comes closer, so must the anticipation for what's next for BTS and Jikook. And, If BTS are good at anything, it's at dreaming. Even better, they are good at making choices in order to achieve those dreams, to make them a reality.

Trust me, not many people dare to dream big and then actually make choices to support them. It takes guts and daring.

They definitely have that going for them.

And, just as we ponder and parse all of the possible ways in which certain scenarios can play out, so must Jimin and Jungkook think about these things. Their late night 'shower talks' about songs and future tours, Jimin's Weverse letter hinted at 'bigger things' about the future that are waiting to be revealed. Jikook must have spent this past year talking and fantasizing about how they want certain things to play out for themselves after MS.

And, as much as I want them to be able to live as they please, freely and without scrutiny, I think the witch hunt that happened after Yoongi made (and freely admitted to) a misstep, might have put a damper on things. And let me be clear in saying that I do not blame Yoongi for any of it.

Yoongi was the one that when asked if they're worried about backlash if any of the members were to date publicly, said ARMYs are all different, and it's wrong to assume everyone would react the same. "... ARMY is a diverse group. In this hypothetical situation, some may accept it, some may not. Whether it’s dating or something else, they’re all individuals, and they will understand things differently,". That, to me, was such a clear warning to all who may oppose their choices. Yoongi a sentry willing to stand up for his members as well as himself in order to fight for a sliver of normalcy in their hectic lives. That read as a 'we'll live our lives regardless of the criticism'.

Yet, this was far from saying they will be making public announcements regarding private matters. Right?

What might exacerbate the issue is the fact that, in Jikook's case, their relationship is not only a private matter but moreover a group matter. They're both members of BTS, and that might make it more complicated. Not to mention the elephant in the closet, the whole SK is not tolerant when it comes to LGBTQI issues thing 😮‍💨. Should have mentioned that first, but we all know it's the dark cloud hovering over this issue. 

Inviting the scrutiny of the public once any of them open that can of worms just seems like insanity to me. And to what benefit? 

I'd be remiss if I didn't mention @hon3ymo0n had a beautiful piece about this 'benefit'.., highlighting Sir Ian McKellan's perspective on coming out while having lived under the cover of the public eye. A must-read, imho. 

Yet here we are, fast forward to 2025 and celebrities are more public than ever. I can't speak on how easy or difficult it is for celebrities in SK to live private lives while in the public eye. I think the guys must have been dating somewhat privately all these years, keeping it very close to the vest, but going public is another thing altogether. And with how wildly diverse and sometimes insane BTS fans can be, I think coming out would put their biggest dream, the whole dominating the music industry while living out my dream of being an all around entertainer thing, under intense pressure.

When it comes to Jikook, are they willing to put their relationship on the line in order to be the vanguard of a community that actually does thrive in privacy? 

I can't wait for them to be released, but I won't expect anything in regards to their personal lives just yet. I think going back to their core, being musicians, will take center stage. Whatever happens on the fringes of that, I'll take it as it comes. For them, I hope at least once the uncertainty of enlistment is fully behind them, once that imagined time has been lived through and is over with, that it gives them space to think about how to live as freely as possible without surrendering personal peace. Being together is what's most important, after all.

[lady-dragon-rider]

The Towers Lost Maiden Pt.4

Targaryen Fam x Hightower! Reader

With the Driftmark incident behind the Targaryen family, and tensions strained to their fullest. Reader must take drastic action to purge the rot that nips at their families heels. The threat of potential war being the consequence for failure.

Containing: both cannon divergence and cannon adherence (as necessary), protective dragons in all forms, daemon living for not being the family drama for once (for a little at least, some time skip, more sucession drama, death, blood and violence

Featuring: daeron mention (will make an appearance soon), Aemond being petty aka mild bullying offscreen (aemond milks Luce’s punishment)

Next part>

<<Previous Part

---

The next morning arrives without further incident. Now, you sit in a chair facing a weathered old maester, who sews the cut on your arm.

“You are fortunate your grace, the blade was Valyrian steel, so the cut was a clean one. It will scar, but it will heal well.”

“Thank you Maester Mordin” you mumble, wincing again as the he finishes the final stitch. Aemond and Aegon watch on silently. When Maester Mordin moves to Aemond to check on him, Aegon round the table from the other side, coming to grab your unwounded hand. The doors open and Aemma walks in quickly. Without a word she reaches you, delicately tracing the skin around the stiches.

“What is to be done with your sister?” She mutters cooly

“I will deal with it love, trust me. Ill be handling it shortly.” You speak quietly. You stand slowly. “Boys, go with your mother to breakfast, i will join you shortly.”

“But Mother-”

“Please dont argue my love. Ill be quick and then be right back at your sides.” You reassure, pressing your hands to your childrens cheeks. They both look like they want to say more to you, but they eventually leave the room with Aemma. She has her arms around them comfortingly as the door clicks behind them. You motion for the gaurd by the doors attention. “Bring my sister Alicent to me at once.”

---

“Sister-” Alicent gasps

“My decision is final.” You state coldly “it was like i didnt even know you last night. My sweet, wonderful sister, who likes reading and embroidery, attempting to attack A Child in the name of Justice? Vengeance? Against a Child? ” You sneer

“I admit it was not my finest moment. i acted in a moment of weakness… know i regret my actions. That my love for you and your children is what makes me so protective, you have always done so much for me… always shown restraint and wisdom… please, know this and forgive me.” Her voice cracks. For a split moment you can see her; that young girl from all those years ago, clinging to your skirts and crying during thunder storms… who came to you to read her stories before bed…. and the girl who came to you in the middle of the night because she didnt want to marry the king.

“This IS mercy” You murmur strongly “But… i may find it in my heart to give you leniency if you answer this question”

“Of course-”

“Were you the one to spread the rumors of Luce and Jace?”

Alicent stops mid answer. The air choked from her lungs. She looks at you with a shocked expression. Your eyes stare through hers with a cold stormy expression,

“If you cant answer that, then were you the one who told Aemond these lies?” Again, your question is met with silence, alicent looking away, the picking her nails indicating all you need. You heave a sigh, now knowing the truth.

“Then the decision still stands; you are to prepare yourself for the journey back to Oldtown. Ill arrange to have your posessions from your chamber sent there to meet you.”

“And if i said i did?” She interjects “that i did because their very existence is an insult to everything that you have gone through? Everything you sacrificed to save me? So that i wouldnt have to betray someone i thought a firend? That she uses your love for her to protect her from her misdeeds?”

“Then i would say that i didnt think you would be so vindictive and spiteful. That you, of all people, after all the lessons i tried to teach you, could be so short-sighted. Do you know the danger such slander holds for my children? That by putting such things to question you threaten their safety with the threat of civil war. Such that would burn everything away and leave everything i did for you naught.”

“How can you not see they arent true born?” She pleads “you cant be blind to the truth!”

“They are my grandsons. With Targaryen dragons to show their lineage” You affirm “the only thing i was ‘blind’ to was not seeing my sister straying from my side… who let darkness and lies into her heart. No doubt from the heartbreak of losing her friend and having no true comfort of her own. For that i am sorry… i never meant to leave you alone”

“(Name)…”

“You will go back home to Oldtown. You will speak no more on these fictitious rumors. And hopefully finding a suitable match and some time away will help soothe you.” You take Alicents hands gently, squeezing and rubbing her knuckles with you thumbs. You both smile sadly at each other. kissing her temple you mutter “please find happiness, this is all i wish for you. We will be with each other soon, i promise.”

You then motion for the guard to escort her back to her rooms, and head to the hall for breakfast.

---

“I still cant believe you talked to her. After all she did, you have a much better temperament that i your grace” Rheanyra sighs. You both watch as the dragons fly over head; back home to kings landing. “I wouldve had her head…”

“Nyra, darling you dont mean that…” you scold gently

“But i do!” She barks voice wavering. “She hurt you… she tired to hurt my son.” Her tone turns cold when she finishes her statement. Delicately, she rolls the sleeve to judge the wound. You can hear her harshly suck in a breath as she traces around the wound; like Aemma had done ealier. She speaks quietly in High Valyrian, with a scowl permeating her face.

“Fret not dear, she is on her way back to Old Town, and she wont be back unless i allow it.” You reassure. Rheanyra huffs childishly, and holds your hands tightly. “That matter is settled. Now, we will need to look to the future, i doubt itll be the last time we will need to discuss the boys succession… now that the seeds have been planted.” You grumble. You loved Alicent truly, but she sometimes made things so difficult. You both look out towards the sea again, the figures of dragons now a little smaller against the horizon.

---

You were right when you said it wouldnt be the last time youd need to discuss Driftmarks succession. You stand next to Aemma, who sits on the iron throne in place of Viserys, weary expressions on your faces as you listen to Vaemond drone on again; with yet another petition for driftmark, claiming Rheanyra’s children illegitimate and him the rightful successor. With Corlys on his rumoured death bed and with the death of Leanor, Vaemond had wasted no time in calling forth a meeting of the court.

As either side said their piece; Vaemond with his 'My blood is of true Velaryon descent’ and Rheanyra again stating that the matter had already been discussed at length years earlier, the silence with so deafening that you would be able to hear a pin drop.

“I would get a blade and show you princess but im afraid it would look unfamiliar to you.” He snarls.

“That is enough Lord Vaemond, this is the second attempt you have made to undermine your uncle Corlys’s verdict on Driftmarks succession. The only person here who would know his wishes most intimately would be the princess Rheanys.” Aemma states, the wrinkles around her eyes showcasing her tiredness at this debate. She, along with Viserys, had seemed to aged rapidly, almost as if the throne itself had finally succeeded in saping their strength. It was either that or the constant in-fighting between rambunctious relatives.

Rheanys steps forward and with little emotion on her face, cooly adresses the room. “It was ever my husbands wish to have Driftmark pass through his son Ser Leanor to his tureborn grandson Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed, nor did my support of him. The Princess Rheanyra has also informed me of her desire to wed her grandson Luce with Corlys’s granddaughter Rheana, a proposal in which i heartily agree.”

“Then the matter is settled… again. In my husbands name, i affirm that Lucerys Velaryon remains heir of driftmark, heir to the driftwood throne and the next lord of the tides.” Aemma sighs with a furrowing brow. Just as your about to assist the queen regent, you hear Vaemond scoff.

“You break law and centuries of tradtion naming your daughter as heir… and you dare tell me who gets to inherit the name Velaryon… No. I will not allow it” he grunts

“Allow it? You foget yourself” you scowl “Last time i checked Lord Vaemond, the Kings word IS law. And, by the word of King Jaehaerys himself, the princess Rheanyra’s right to the throne is protected by the widowers law. Or have you and the rest of the realm forgotten that piece of history? Along with bowing to her nearly 20 years ago.” You make no attempt to hide the bite in your tone, your eyes flaring in a protective rage. Out the corner of your eye you can see Aemma and Rheanyra smirk at your display. Aemma out of pride, and Rheanyra from vindication of your backing.

Vaemond chews his lips and with a clench fist, directs his anger to Luce again. “THAT! Is no true Velaryon… i will not see my line end at the hands of this…”

“Say it.” You hear Daemon whisper.

Please dont say it Vaemond. Dont do it

“Her children are BASTARDS… and she is… a whore” he finishes, his voice booming.

You pull out the knife on your hip, a gift from Rheanyra (and allegedly Daemon too) after the Driftmark incident. With a face of thunder, you begin the descent down the stairs.

“You will lose your tongue for those slanders.” You hiss.

Before you can get to him however his head swiftly meets the floor; his body falling neatly at your feet near the bottom of the stairs. Behind him stands Daemon, who wipes the blood from his sword.

“He can keep his tongue.” The look he gives you just as he turns to walk back to your step-daughters side, is one you cant quite read. Somewhere between a begrudging respect at your stepping in and a 'i protect this family… not you.’

Well that hopefully means he no longer hates you. Its a step. You guess. Sheathing the blade you glide back up the stairs to help Aemma. She is a bit shaky going down, your son Aegon is quick to grab her other side. Aemond stands vigil behind Helaena, his remaining eye alert and never straying to far from Daemon’s posistion. He guides the both of them to your side and you all make your way out of the hall. When you reach the Queens chamber, you help Aemma into a chair and then sit down yourself. Amid the silence you begin to writing your letters to your sister, brother and your son.

In you letter to Daeron you mention that he should most definitely come and visit, as 'the best part of being a prince with a dragon is that he need not seek permission in order to see family. He can simply do so as he wishes. And that if he ever wished to come and then stay, her could do that too.’

Writing to Gwayne was a joy to you. You enjoyed reading of the joyous moments he had with Daeron. If your song wasnt telling you directly through letters, then it would be read through his uncles boasting. You subtly write to him that your worried about Alicent, and to make sure she is being treated well.

Alicents letter… is a bit more vague. You try to overlook your nerves over what she has been getting up to as you keep her 'updated’ with the barest of details. You get the sense she may not fully realise the extent of the distance between through your writings, as she still writes so animatedly about the goings on in OldTown, even going so far as to ask for a visit. Its your hope you can keep it that way though you are mostly thankful that she seems a tad happier out of the suffocating air of Kingslanding. The thought of a visit sounds wonderful… but with the teetering health of your partners you find it hard to think of stepping away… the shadows that nip at the edges of court being ever fickle.

“Why the long face my love?” You hear the quiet voice of Aemma say “more letters from that infernal sister of yours?”

“Dearest please… but yes, she writes asking for a visit… saying she misses our time togther. The thought of visiting home would be wonderful… if things here didnt threaten to fall apart in my absence. Besides, i couldnt leave either of you to the jaws of that court and council.” You explain wearily. A touch of the hand stirs you from you spiral. Your wife smiles knowingly.

---

“Some letters have arrived your grace.” A messager announces as they hand you several neatly rolled scrolls of parchment. Responses from Alicent, Gwayne and Daeron. All of them hold the typical pleasantries, though your sons letter informs that he shall be returning home for a short time, wishing to see his siblings and mothers. You smile and go about your day, telling all who need to know of his return.

Later in the council chamber you sit in the position to Viserys left, opposite you is Rheanyra. You both eye each other tiredly as the lords try to make subtle attempts to weasel more power for themselves. Just as the meeting is to be concluded, Rheanyra coughs and call herself to attention. “I wish to say something quickly before we conclude”

Viserys grunts and nods tiredly “remain seated everyone.”

Rheanyra clears her throat before looking at you directly. “In light of recent discourse within our family… i would like to apologise for the roles mine played in it. And for the harm that has befallen the wounded parties…” you can see the way she spares a glance down at your arm; where the scar, now beginning to fade slightly, lay hidden beneath the sleeve. “i know no amount of apologies can fix it… but i wish to try and mend the rift between us once and for all. Jacerys will inherit the throne after me, i propose a marriage between him and your daughter Helaena. With it i hope we can finally, firmly unite our two sides for the times ahead.”

You nod and smile. “I think that is a wonderful idea. What say you dear?” You turn to Viserys, he smiles and nods in agreement. He takes your hand and Rheanyra’s as firmly as he can manage.

“A wonderful idea indeed, daughter.” He calls the meeting to an end and some maids help him stagger out of the chamber and back to his rooms. You round the table and subtly place your shawl over Rheanyra’s shoulders. She looks at you in confusion before you whisper quietly in her ear of the issue. She flushes a little but thanks you for the discretion. You both walk the halls arm in arm as you go to the Queen’s chambers for lunch. Where you mention to both that your son Daeron is on his way up for a visit.

---

“Mother you cant be serious!” Aegon gasps. Aemond too looks both shocked and mildly betrayed at the news.

“I am. You father has also approved so there is not going back on it.” You say firmly “from memory aegon i remember you saying 'so long as i dont have to marry her, she is weird’ when i brought up Helaena’s marriage prospects. I didnt realise you held such an interest now”

“I dont” he huffs, arms folded “she IS weird, but as fate would have it she is MY weird sister. And im not particularly fond of the idea of handing her off to Jace” he explains

“I thought you liked him, you were both quite close, with Luce as well. Close enough to tease one another and have fun in the training yard.”

“That was before driftmark” he snarks, eyes dark with rage. The room falls deadly silent.

“Is that because i got hurt? Or because Aemond did?” Aegon makes no move to reply, but you can see the way his fists clench and he fails to meet your eyes. You sigh and motion for both of your sons to come closer.

“I know this might seem like im rewarding them and punishing you. But im not, i promise. I want our family whole, if either of you sat in councils with me and your father you would see plainly how some of these lords try to rangle the reigns from our grasp because of the illness that renders the king; and therefore the crown, weak. Ive done my best to keep everything stable until your sister, the heir i remind you, can take the throne. In order for that to happen this family MUST remain as whole as it can be. I dont like the idea of pushing Helaena into a political marriage, but Jace will take his role seriously and will look after her, this much i know for fact.”

“I still dont like it” aegon pouts, his eyes distant as he stares into the fireplace

“I dont often agree with him mother… but i dont like it either. You have always been wise and made good decisions for the good of others and the realm… but i cant see it in this.” Aemond agrees

You squeeze their hands and stand to match their heights. “I understand you might not like it because you still hold some resentment in you for you eye my love, but Luce faithfully served his punishment to you… and if rumors are to be believed, and not all are, i have heard tell that you may have been a bit cruel to him during that period.” Aemond doesnt meet you eye with his. “They are your nephews. For all their faults and for all of yours, we are family. And when it comes to family we do our best to look out for and support one another. We can agree on this at least right?”

They both nod. You send them off with kisses and tell them that their younger brother will be here soon for a visit. That seems to brighten them a little when they leave your rooms for the night. you try and settle for the night but find the yourself unable to. You leave your chambers to cross the hall, feeling incredibly childish as you slip into Aemma’s chamber. She doesnt stir much as you gently lift the covers, and pull yourself in. Though she does turn over and in her dreamy-sleep filled state moves over to hold your arm. It eases you a tad, but the faint heaviness still sits in your gut as you both eagerly and anxiously wait to see how things unfold.

---

Taglist @your-favorite-god @juliette2

[seoul-bros]

Jikook Week 61 Complete ✔️ (04/02 - 11/02/2025)

Jikook have finalized their 61st week in the military and it's time to look back at this week in 2022. It was an extremely complicated year for BTS. They knew well in advance that military service was coming and in the first six months of the year, continuing as if it was business as usual didn't sit right with them, as I think Namjoon and Jimin expressed very well in the Festa dinner.

They were all under a lot of pressure and I suspect that the company did very little to relieve that and may have even added to it especially for Jungkook who had been marked for glory since their debut.

"Jungkook wasn't very confident but I had a strong conviction that he had a lot of potential" Bang PD on BTS Monuments

BTS were on an extended break after their intense schedule in the US at the end of 2021. Jimin was admitted to hospital on 30/01 suffering from the double whammy of acute appendicitis and COVID 19 and was operated on the next day.

During his recovery period he sent various Weverse messages to reassure the fans including these on 03/02 (SK time) and on 05/02 the day he was discharged.

He spent the next few days resting at home. In the early hours of 09/02 (in SK) he watched The Notebook for the seventh time (still don't get what he sees in that movie - Nicholas Spark does absolutely nothing for me) and then apparently kept on going with another movie (Weverse message). Wouldn't it be perfect if that film turned out to be Like Crazy (getting inspiration for FACE even then).

The next evening after various exchanges with ARMY on Weverse he posted a cryptic, "I'm happy".

So it was rest and recovery all the way for Jimin but what was Jungkook up to this week? These were the heady days when JK was prolific on Instagram and his posts came in fast succession almost like a flow of consciousness.

As infant ARMY, everything was fascinating and everything had to be pored over and reflected on in great detail. Even so, I've never really come to any firm conclusions about what was going on - except JK was going through something and the way he processed it was, unsurprisingly, through music.

On 03/02, JK posted his cover of Hate Everything

Had a perfect picture in my head, With you in the most beautiful dress I look happy as ever How did I let you go again?

Now I'm standing alone in the rain. Like the kinda movie that we used to hate. Wish I could take back the time. But I know this time it's real.

Hate that I'm singing this song. I hate that I have to be strong. Hate that you're gone. I hate all my flaws. Hate that you love someone else Hate everything. Just hate everything. Right now

Then 05/02 he posted this dance video to these lyrics of Teyana Taylor's Bare Wit Me

On 06/02 he posted three sound clips on Instagram.

Roses by Finn Askey - "Hey, Rose I bought you five roses, won't you come to my show? Show you how to live life, yeah, you know you're fucking gold Give you all my time if you wanna take it slow Your soul is lovely, uh"

2. Too many feelings by Ruel - "I let out too many feelings, shit, I should've kept in. Probably should've left 'em all unsaid. Didn't wanna scare you, just wanted to be near you. Wanted you to hear what's in my head You know, I'll take it back if , You take me back too, too"

3. Audrey Nuna - Space - "Don't make me the one to say it Don't make me the one to say it 'cause I can't come down I'm only human now I just need some Space, space, space"

On 07/02 he posted Even Days by 03ohn - "Any of the days, any of the words, Even the day we said goodbye"

So he was posting a slew of break up songs 💔 one after another with regret combined with inevitability as the central theme i.e. "I love you but I'm feeling the pressure and I'm not sure I can be the lover that you want me to be".

On 08/02 he posted Never Change by Jeremy Passion with the lyrics "There is a place where both of us belong, But as of now we just have to be strong"

and he ended the week with the decidedly more upbeat Takes Two by Fiji Blue on 09/02 and the lyrics, 'Cause all I want is you, is you It takes two 'Cause all I want is you, is you It takes two"

Could this outpouring be related to jikook? Well if you believe they are together and have been for many years you could certainly ask yourself that question.

All long term relationships have their ups and downs and that is without having to deal with the spotlight of global superstardom, a kpop idol culture which requires stars to "appear permanently available" to their fans and the don't ask, don't tell approach to same sex relationships in SK. We know that Jimin was struggling at the time so perhaps it isn't too far fetched to think that Jungkook would also be struggling to help or to cope.

All I can say is that the next time we saw them together during the Seoul Permission to Dance concerts and in the BTS Monuments scenes filmed on the 13/03/2022 (according to Jimin's fridge) they appeared as united as ever.

So even if this was about them by mid March 2022 they had come to some agreement on how to move forward - together.

Post Date: 11/02/2025

[who-is-page]

Inky Paws on Hiatus

Hi y'all. Like the title suggests, I'm gently putting the Inky Paws fiction zine anthology on hiatus.

The feedback and support I get for this project is unbelievable and amazing, and I know that there's a huge amount of interest for Inky Paws #4. I'm overwhelmed with appreciation at the contributions that folks have made to this zine, especially over the course of three whole years. This wouldn't have been possible without all of y'all!

But this project takes a lot of time, energy, and focus to put together and make every year. It's also entirely free-- I don't even accept donations for it on my itch.io, because I feel weird about doing so when the crux of Inky Paws is a showcase of other folks' art. And three years is a long time for an ADHD dog like me to stick to a single project. Inky Paws takes up a certain amount of my spoons every year, and I kind of want to use those spoons to chase the rabbits of newer projects and ideas that I've had bounding through my head. So I've made up my mind to put a pause on this for now, until I feel ready to come back to it.

Thank you all so much for following this zine. If you've read through it, I hope that it's inspired you to write, draw, create, and share what you've made fearlessly with your peers. The spirit of Inky Paws is the joy of creation and collaboration, of leaving tracks and trails for the generations ahead and for those who may just be discovering themselves now, and I sincerely wish that people feel that spark of inspiration and passion when they page through the stories and art that others have shared through it. Inky Paws may be a closed book for now, but please don't let that dissuade you from leaving your own prints on the digital footnotes of our community's history and in doodling across your own personal timeline with claws and fangs and feathers and fins and voids and handprints. I can't wait to see what you all make, and thank you again for following this project and what it's become over these past three years.

[manglam-marfach]

dyke!Chilaios has me understanding breeding kink all of a sudden

[arolesbianism]

Sometimes I just look at Isabeau and just know that if isat came out and I got into it when I was like 16 he would be my favorite character and I would've gone absolutely buck wild over this man and feel like he was laser targeting me. But alas Odile has a grip of steel on me rn due to her virtue of being a middle aged woman

[luveline]

Jade can I please get a chatty af yapper sunshine girlfriend with Sirius?? Like May be someone tells her she talks a lot so she's super quiet around him cuz she's worried he'll get annoyed and break up with her but poor Sirius he misses his chatty girl and just angst with fluff

thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k

James Potter means well. Honestly, you don’t think he has a mean bone in his body, so you try not to take it to heart. 

Unfortunately, your attempts to do so don’t work. They really, unquestionably don’t. By the time you’re outside of Sirius’ flat that afternoon, James’ small comment is all you can think of. 

“You’re so chatty I’m surprised you don’t run out of breath,” he’d said. Not without love. You’d bumped into him in Sainsbury’s and ended up talking for ages about one thing or another, you know him well, you’d even say you were friends, though he’s of course Sirius’ friend rather than your own. “But I’m the same. God, Sirius used to hate how much I talked, he’d be sick of me. I think I numbed him to it over the years.” 

You can’t imagine it. Sirius and James are best friends. With Remus, they’re the most in love threesome of friends you’ve ever met, and it’s nice; it makes you very proud to have a boyfriend who cares for others as deeply as Sirius cares for them. It’s like a constant demonstration of how he’s a good man. 

But you’d never stopped to consider that they weren’t always so seamless, and you’ve regrettably never considered that your constant talking is something that could put him off. 

You talk to Sirius about everything. There isn’t a word to describe the excitement of having someone waiting to listen to you every single night. You could tell him every detail of a day down to what colour socks you wore and you know he’ll sit there listening with his hand on the small of your back, or his fingers twined between yours. You’ve never felt so loved as to be able to just talk about everything and have him talk back. 

But… what if, this whole time, he’s been wishing for a little bit of quiet? 

What if eventually, the talking becomes too much? 

He must be with you for a reason. You aren’t holding the poor guy hostage, he acts like he’s mad for you ninety percent of the time (while the other ten percent is spent sleeping on your shoulder). 

Like now —you knock his door and you can hear him scrambling up from the sofa, the sound of a book dislodged or a remote hitting the rug, you’re not sure. The door yanks open and Sirius smiles at you, pulling you in through the gap with a familiar hand on your hip. 

“Hey,” Sirius says, tucking you against his side, “hey, did you get lovelier over the weekend?” He shoves the door closed and gives you a hug with one arm, pausing in the hall. “Sorry I couldn’t see you. I don’t think we should miss another weekend.” 

You have a lot to tell him. It’s been ages since you spent nearly three days apart, but James’ conversation stays at the front of your mind. 

You decide to be less overwhelming, but not less loving, curling your arm behind his head to pull his cheek down for a kiss. “I don’t think so, either.” 

Sirius tilts his head away from you in an invitation for more kissing. 

You’re at home in his flat. You take off your shoes and hang up your jacket. You change into a pair of jogging bottoms with loose legs and let him hoist you onto his bed for a few stolen kisses, though he isn’t propositioning you, and you end up laying across his bedspread with one of your legs in his lap as he tells you about his days without you, his thumb sliding with pressure down your calf. 

“Mostly I wished I’d asked you to come over anyways, even if it was just to sleep together at the end of the day. Maybe next time we can do that?” he asks. 

“Of course we can.” You smile at him indulgently. “I’d come over for twenty minutes if it was all I could get.” 

“Or I can come to you,” he says, “even if it’s just twenty minutes.” 

He smiles, a beaming thing, and leans down slowly for a soft kiss. 

“So,” he asks, his breath on your lips, “how was your weekend? Lonely?” 

“So lonely,” you tease lightly, eyes fluttering closed as he continues his massaging of your leg. “But it was okay. I missed you, really, and didn’t do much else.”

“No?” he asks. 

Your voice takes on a shine as he squeezes your knee, “Missed your hands.”  

“I missed your everything.” He grabs for your forearms and pulls you into a sitting position. “But everything was okay?” he asks more seriously. 

“Everything was fine.” 

He raises his eyebrows, but eventually lets them relax. “Well, okay. Good, sweetheart, I’m glad it was okay.” 

He persuades you into the kitchen to sit with him as he makes dinner, refusing to let you help, and yet insisting you be there in the same room, as though you’d like to be anywhere else. Sirius makes your favourite of his usual rotation, offering you spoonfuls for tasting, gaps of silence stretching as he struggles to find new conversation. You start answering his questions but remember time and time again that Sirius could become totally sick of you. He might already be. 

Sirius puts the food on a low heat and washes his hands. He wipes them dry, but when he takes your face, dampness lines the inside of his fingers. 

“I’d like for you to tell me what’s wrong,” he says gently, stroking at the line of your startled frown, “before it gets worse. Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Nothing’s wrong.” 

“Please don’t, lovely. If I’ve done something wrong, please tell me. I want us to last forever, and we can’t do that if you won’t tell me when I upset you.” 

“It wasn’t you,” you say instinctively, then regret it. 

“So someone has?” he asks, still so gentle as his hands coast down your neck like he’s sculpting you, coming to rest on the slopes leading to your shoulders. “You can tell me anything. You don’t have to keep it to yourself… please.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Sweetheart.” He frowns deeply. Couldn’t look more upset. “Of course I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

You chew it over, not wanting or willing to cause ructions between Sirius and his oldest friend. “Well, I saw James today at the shop, and… we were talking about you…” 

He waits. “And?” 

“And he told me you– you don’t like talking. That you didn’t like talking, that James used to make you sick of it. So I know I talk too much and you’ve never made me feel like I shouldn’t, but I guess I got into my head thinking you’d get sick of me, too.” 

“When we were younger I didn’t like much of anything.” He curls an arm behind your neck to hold you in place, but it’s not a dominant sort of movement, only protective as your noses inch together. “Did you ever read that poem by Bukwoski? Let It Enfold You?” 

“What?” 

“I’m not very good at explaining myself. I thought if you knew the poem, you’d–” He laughs near your cheek. “I hated everything. It wasn’t James’ fault. He did make me sick of it sometimes, but I just wanted to hide from everything.” He breathes out slowly. “I’ve never wanted to hide from you. I can’t get sick of you. Do you get that? I can’t get sick of you. Listening to you is the best part of my day, you’re my personal chatterbox.” 

“Chatterbox,” you repeat teasingly. 

“You could talk for Wales,” he says. “And I love it, I don’t want you to stop, because I’ll never be sick of it.”

“I don’t want it to be some secret resentment.”

“I don’t resent you for anything. I knew exactly who you were when we met and I love it.” He takes your face again. “I love it,” he repeats. 

You steal a little kiss against the corner of his lips. “What was the poem?” you ask. 

“I’ll find my book, and you can read it to me. What do you think?” He takes a slow kiss as you had in the same place, words like honey. “I miss your voice.” 

He’s basically pleading. It’s not like Sirius to plead, but you pull it out of him. 

“Can I have my dinner first?” 

“The one I made while you deprived me?” he asks. “Yes, if you must.” 

He takes another kiss, but you’re happy to give it. 

[astonmartinii]

knives out | lewis hamilton social media au

pairing: lewis hamilton x rosberg!reader

2016 saw the murder of brocedes right before our very eyes, but who got y/n in the will?

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

- part of the brother's best friend series -

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, maxverstappen1 and 751,209 others

tagged: nicorosberg

yourusername: back in barcelona! nothing has ever happened here, right? RIGHT?

view all comments

user1: when i'm in a victim of brocedes contest and y/n rosberg turns up

user2: nico was like "oh, lewis has had a good qualifying... here comes the curse"

user3: he's the hater we should all aspire to be

nicorosberg: barcelona is a beautiful place but you should pick your company well!

yourusername: great advice nico, i should've left you at home

nicorosberg: snore! i'm great company you just can't keep up with my great personality and wit

yourusername: what ever you need to tell yourself old man

nicorosberg: i'm two years older than you?

yourusername: how was the industrial revolution?

user4: i hope they never grow up and always argue in public

user5: omg the argument on sky about lewis v seb in canada... and jenson just stood there with the biggest shit-eating grin ever

lewishamilton: my trauma is not your joke

yourusername: it was my trauma too i was the one who had to listen to him complain for the next TWO WEEKS

lewishamilton: trying to find where i care...

yourusername: you complained first ??

lewishamilton: rightly so!

yourusername: do not tussle with me about this, by now i thought you'd know that us rosbergs don't play about complaining

lewishamilton: believe me my therapist knows that

user6: i know nico sat on his hands forcing himself not to comment back

user7: alternatively, celebrating that he still lives in lewis' head

lewishamilton

liked by georgerussell63, charles_leclerc and 2,305,899 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: @yourusername i may love you but if that man ever takes a picture of my car i'm putting a hit on his head

view all comments

user11: we got a relationship reveal and a death threat all in one post

user12: lewis saw yall ready to make a brocedes edit using this race and made sure you knew that he doesn't care about a his old haunts

user13: he was like yall shipping me with the wrong rosberg

yourusername: let's refrain from threats for now

lewishamilton: we're gonna have to get rid of that last name, no more curses

nicorosberg: RIGHT THAT IS IT IF YOU DARE GET MARRIED DOUBLE-BARRELLED OR ELSE, ROSBERGS ARE ELITE AND YOU WISH YOU HAD THIS NAME

yourusername: he does have a point

lewishamilton: i'm for real going to lose my mind that we haven't spoken in years and this is where he drew the line

nicorosberg: you told the world you're dating my sister at the same time as me

lewishamilton: stop cursing me then 🤨

nicorosberg: i don't curse you my devilish good looks just sent your engine into cardiac arrest

user14: i know toto wolff just fell to his knees in the mercedes garage seeing them bicker in instagram comments after making merc a literal warzone for years

user15: and yet this is the most brocedes way to go about it

georgerussell63: even if you're dating his sister, i'm still your favourite teammate right?

yourusername: valterri exists buddy soz

georgerussell63: *clutches my pearls*

lewishamilton: and that is exactly why valterri is my favourite teammate

georgerussell63: whatever 💁🏻‍♀️

charles_leclerc: not for long xx

yourusername: whoever can bring me the best coffee can get the crown?

lewishamilton: stop exploiting my teammate and future teammate

yourusername: that's what they're there for?

yourusername

liked by nicorosberg, maxverstappen1 and 823,087 others

tagged: lewishamilton

yourusername: anything happen this week?

view all comments

user19: y/n ruining her brother's week - anything happen this week?

user20: more like year

nicorosberg: more like life

yourusername: drama queen

nicorosberg: as i should be !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

yourusername: got enough exclamation marks in there buddy

nicorosberg: no open the door i need to scream directly in your ears

yourusername: if it's any consolation, the relationship started after 2016

nicorosberg: so he got me out of the way so he could go for my little sister 🤨

lewishamilton: yep!

nicorosberg: no i'm serious let me in i need to yell

nicorosberg: I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE I CAN HEAR ROSCOE

nicorosberg: fine i'll just abseil from my apartment give me a sec

user21: y/n please let him in he's so serious about that i can feel it

user22: anyone from monaco here and want to keep us updated?

danielricciardo: Y/N LET HIM IN HE NEARLY KICKED MY POTTED PLANT OFF THE BALCONY

yourusername: lol

danielricciardo: THIS IS NOT A LAUGHING MATTER PLEASE

lewishamilton: fine, you people are such bores

nicorosberg: i nearly lost a birkenstock

yourusername: and my inheritance nearly doubled

lewishamilton: *our

user23: i think lewis is having way too much fun with this

nicorosberg

liked by lewishamilton, jensonbutton and 692,889 others

tagged: yourusername

nicorosberg: we're back at the track and i've got a sneaking feeling that the red bull might be fast around here

view all comments

user24: nico said babe won't catch me posting lewis on my instagram

maxverstappen1: sure thing buddy he's dating your sister, but there's NO NEED TO TAKE IT OUT ON ME

nicorosberg: i said you're going to win?

maxverstappen1: i DON'T NEED YOUR BAD JUJU GIVE IT TO LEWIS HE'S THE ONE YOU'RE ANGRY AT NOT ME

nicorosberg: i'm not angry at lewis

lewishamilton: really?

nicorosberg: OF COURSE NOT

yourusername: he'll get over it soon lewis don't worry

lewishamilton: really? he's still holding a grudge from 2016 - that was EIGHT YEARS AGO

yourusername: yeah sorry that's a rosberg trait ❤️

user25: not the grid becoming victims of the brocedes fall out eight years later

yourusername: you're so shady why did you crop lewis out?

nicorosberg: outfit wasn't on par with the rosbergs

yourusername: oh no

lewishamilton: HOW DARE YOU

yourusername: you queens can take this out on each other i'm not getting involved in this one

lewishamilton: i know this birkenstock wearing primadonna is not dissing my custom mcqueen

nicorosberg: it's custom because no one would want something so ugly 🫶🏻

user26: someone take nico off the parc ferme interviews lewis might just run him over

user27: he should just let roscoe at his ankles

nicorosberg: that vegan dog can't do shit to me

yourusername: leave the kids out of it nico

nicorosberg: you birthed that? my condolences to your reproductive system

lewishamilton: DO NOT FAT SHAME MY SON

roscoelovescoco: kill yourself @nicorosberg

user28: WTF IS GOING ON

lewishamilton

liked by georgerussell63, kimiantonelli and 2,844,599 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: he may have won the battle, but i won the war

view all comments

user29: bro you're going to be subjected to boho chic Christmases for the rest of your life

user30: guy is going to get poisoned via christmas nut roast by nico 😭

yourusername: this is corny but i love you

lewishamilton: i love you too i'm going to pretend you didn't just call my super thought out caption corny

yourusername: it was corny and that's what i love about you

nicorosberg: you need better standards

yourusername: for someone who had so much homoerotic tension with the man that you retired you're being very rude about the subject of such tension

nicorosberg: that's not how that went

yourusername: sure, jan

nicorosberg: stop trying to rewrite history

yourusername: i saw it with my own two eyes... are you jealous that i ended up with lewis instead of you?

nicorosberg: nO

user31: i feel like this is definitely not the argument i thought i would see on the internet today

user32: lewis hamilton got passed around the rosberg house ... this your goat?

user33: both rosbergs are hawt as hell so yes!

charles_leclerc: oh great, keep stoking the flames lewis! if you invoke his wrath upon ferrari next season i will personally sacrifice you to the gods

lewishamilton: excuse me?

charles_leclerc: i don't know if you know this but i kinda don't have a world championship yet ... I DO NOT WANT THE ROSBERG CURSE ATTACHED TO ME

lewishamilton: do not minimise my trauma charles

charles_leclerc: you haven't joined ferrari yet, you don't know trauma. be nice to him, i can't finish my career with max having more championships than me

maxverstappen1: skill issue

user34: do these people ever stop arguing?

yourusername: no! and i can assure you it's worse in person

user35: worst brocedes tussle since nico found out?

yourusername: i was making a list of people to invite to my birthday dinner and nico was angry that i wrote lewis' name before his

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 1,304,277 others

tagged: lewishamilton, nicorosberg

yourusername: still a victim of the brocedes nuclear fallout all these years later

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user37: bro nearly lost her bf to her brother

user38: lewis couldn't have nico and went for his sister instead

user39: insert larry stylinson theory here that y/n is just the beard and toto wolff is simon cowell

yourusername: i'm blocking all of you

nicorosberg: still yapping about this ... and i'm the dramatic one

yourusername: babe we can all see all of your comments on previous posts where you're the literal definition of crashing out

nicorosberg: BARCELONA WAS LEWIS' FAULT WE ALL KNOW THIS

yourusername: when did i bring up barcelona... you just proved my point IDIOT

nicorosberg: make me sound insane all you want ... TOTO IS THE REAL VILLAIN HERE

yourusername: ???

nicorosberg: he notebooked us

yourusername: riiiiiiiiiiight

nicorosberg: i wrote lewis a letter when i retired and toto never gave it to him

yourusername: you're telling me i had to hide my relationship for so long because you trusted that austrian big foot fraud to be your messenger pigeon ?

user40: did we just get insane brocedes lore on a random tuesday?

user41: you're telling me it was toto's fault the whole time?

lewishamilton: well yes it would've been helpful to have gotten the letter, you have to admit the sneeking around was hot

yourusername: you're right 🤭🤭🤭

lewishamilton: hiding in your bathroom while nico came over to bitch about me was a personal highlight

nicorosberg: excuse me?

lewishamilton: i know we're trying to be better, so here's a compliment: you're very creative when being mean about me

nicorosberg: why thank you 😝

yourusername: nuh uh we ain't doing this shit

lewishamilton: don't worry y/n you'll always be my favourite

nicorosberg: but you'll never have our trip to greece :P

yourusername: i will strangle you britney

user42: y/n got brocedes to talk again, but at what cost?

lewishamilton

liked by nicorosberg, charles_leclerc and 4,677,309 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: got y/n's hand in marriage in the will (after i murdered her brother's career)

view all comments

user43: y/n can't escape brocedes even on her engagement post

user44: she (and them) will never get rid of it

yourusername: i love you baby, here's to the rest of our life (even if that includes you arguing with my brother for the rest of time)

lewishamilton: i love you even more, i'd go through all of that psychological warfare again and again if it means i still end up with you

yourusername: we've always had an invisible string

lewishamilton: and there's no one else i'd want to be cosmically tied to <3

user45: i might cry they're so cute

user46: that comment thread called me single in about 100 different languages

charles_leclerc: congratulations you two! also congratulations to me - no more rosberg curse!

yourusername: really? on this POST?

charles_leclerc: hold on girlypop, it was mr hamilton-rosberg that brought up your brother first not me

lewishamilton: you better get all this attitude out now charles

charles_leclerc: what? you gonna marry my brother?

yourusername: lol i'm not threatened by them

arthurleclerc: why am i being shaded?

user47: 2025 HURRY THE FUCK UP

nicorosberg: i guess you're finally getting the rosberg name you've always wanted ...

lewishamilton: yes... i have always had a crush on your sister

nicorosberg: GASP! PERVERT 🫵🏻 i have known you since we were 12 you GROSS MAN

lewishamilton: WELL YES I WAS ALSO 12 I'VE NOT ALWAYS BEEN 36 MORON

yourusername: well doesn't this just get me excited for christmas

user48: i know a monopoly board hate to see these three coming

yourusername: @nicorosberg can i have an actual congratulations???

nicorosberg: i'm happy for you, i'm glad you're happy (also he's loaded so slay)

yourusername: i'll take it!

lewishamilton: sure whatever thanks nico !

fin.

note: lol finally finished this one! i have been very in and out on here, i have a lot going on x

[tinyarsonist]

Volume: Up

"I bet I can make you scream in Korean."

Summary: In which heart throb K-Pop Idol, Bangchan, just shows you how 'Christopher' he can really be.

MDNI 18+ Only

TW: idol!Chan, IdolTrainee!Y/N(fem!), drinking, piv, unprotected sex (wrap it up), smut in general, dirty talk, swearing, masturbation, dumification, nipple play (fem!), cum on stomach, PleasureDom!Chan, switch!reader (fem!), pull out, cum on stomach, let me know if I missed anything!

Italics are in Korean. Bold is in Spanish. Rest in English.

Volume Series: Part One | Part Two | ?

You were still in awe.

You started your career as an idol fairly late in the game, making you older than most. But, when you entered the world of K-pop, you knew this was what you were meant to do. You were already creating music since you were young, and how hard could it be?

Very.

There were days as a trainee when you felt like giving up. You left your friends and family back home to pursue your dream, and after years, you still felt like you were right back at the same spot you started. Never moving. Stagnant.

That's when you discovered Stray Kids. Watching their debut to where they are now. It motivated you.

Then, one day, your company announces that they want you to lead a team. They presented you with suitable candidates for your girl group, but something in you felt like something wasn't right. "Sorry," you apologize to your board. "But, if I may be so bold as to recruit my own members?"

You wanted a family. Craved friendship beyond just another gig. And, well, let's say it worked out very well for you.

This brings you to the present day--standing in DIV studio, surrounded by its members, to do an interview. Your group was just starting out and already doing well. You've posted a couple of dance practices and some ballad covers you performed as a group, tracking some major views across all social media. DIV wanted to be the first to be a part of the soon-to-be international hype.

"You ready?" Eric smiled at you as the crew set up your microphone. You nodded happily. The rest of your group couldn't make it due to schedule. It felt weird not having the rest of your girls around you, but knew this wasn't an opportunity you just passed up.

Time passes, and so far, the interview is going great. It was amazing being around like-minded people. And, it was also nice being able to curse and not have to worry about your 'imagine' among them. They were free to be who they wanted. They wanted to break the mold; conformity was not in their dictionary. It took a while to let your company agree to the interview in the first place, but this was the direction you wanted to take the group. To be yourself and just produce music.

"Okay, so next up is the heart rate challenge." Eric smiled. You were divided into teams; you and Eric vs. Peniel and BM. The winner would be dubbed by the lowest combined heart rate.

"You're going down!" BM teased as Peniel hyped him up in the back. You grin brightly.

"Considering you boys are literally jumping around before the monitor is even placed, I think it's safe to say we'll win."

"Oh okay, that's how it's gonna be??" Peniel laughed. "Then let's make a bet; the loser buys everyone barbeque!"

Eric and you agreed in a heartbeat. You were already craving galbi and rice. Peniel essentially just bought the dinner you were going to buy tonight anyway.

As the heart monitors are placed, you try your best to stay calm. You were an anxious person in general, but when push comes to shove, you always had a way of relaxing yourself.

Peniel and BM went first. Eric and you teased them relentlessly during their time duration of 5 minutes. Peniel started blushing during his time up when you started throwing winks and kisses his way. Their combined score was 250.

"That's not far!" Peniel groaned as the video crew asked for a short break to recalibrate their equipment. "She's too cute, like how does someone not get flustered?"

"It's all fun and games in love and war," you winked at him. Everyone laughed except Peniel, who just took out his phone and pouted. His fingers typed furiously on his keyboard. Once it was time to get the cameras rolling again, Peniel had a knowing smirk on his face. You couldn't help but wonder what he was concocting. You just knew he was plotting his revenge against you.

Eric went first. Despite the constant harassment Peniel and BM gave him, you couldn't help but laugh at their jabs. "You're supposed to be on my team!" Eric roared at you at his last 10 seconds on the clock. Despite everything, his heart rate totaled to 120. All you had to do was ignore the comments for a minute. You got this. You sat down in the middle of the floor and crossed your legs, getting in an almost meditative position. The rest followed. Then the buzzer started.

"So," Peniel started as soon as the timer started going. "You learned Korean by yourself, right?"

You shot him a distrusting glance. "Yes..."

Peniel and BM nodded their heads slowly. "Interesting"/"Yes, yes, very interesting." Eric shot you a glance. He could feel it, too. Based on how the two acted Eric's turn was completely different, they were calm. Too calm. They were up to something.

"One might say," Peniel feigned thoughtfulness by stroking his chin. "You had an interest in learning Korean before you even had thought of becoming a trainee."

Crap. He saw the clip.

Before your group days, you would do little lives here and there. Just want to document your early days and interact with anyone who wants to chat. During that time, you mentioned the real reason you learned Korean was to easily watch interviews without the need for subtitles. Then you casually mentioned how much of a fan you were for a certain boy group. Your fans, which was very little back then, took those clips and circulated them online. Which was fine. It gained some traction that you were a STAY and helped grow your platform. It was a bit embarrassing, essentially admitting that you only learned the language to watch their episodes and lives to get full context. But, hey, it also helped you get to where you are today.

Getting bullied by two idols so they don't have to pay for your dinner.

"Yes, Peniel. I learned Korean so I can watch Stray Kids' interviews live." You roll your eyes but keep track of where your monitor is. 95bpm. Not bad. So long as you stayed below 130, that galbi was yours.

Peniel and BM continued to stroke their chins. "Interesting"/"Yes, yes, very... Stray Kids fan. Very cool"

Peniel held up a finger before leaving the room. You looked around at the crew, confused. Eric laughed and peered after him; "Where is he going?"

His question was answered as Peniel stepped back into the room with a shorter figure behind him. You moved around to peer behind Peniel, and when you locked eyes with the guest, your heart rate shot up. 110bpm.

Eric and BM rose to give a small bow when Chan said his hellos. You stayed still in your place. Embarrassment immediately washed over you. But you took a deep breath in and out, 3 minutes until you can freak out. 3 minutes, and you can process every single emotion you are feeling.

Chan gave you a little wave, his dimples showing as he smiled. Ugh, he might as well shoot you in the heart right now.

"You're not gonna stand up?" Peniel teased. You immediately shook your head. As much as you wanted to say hi, dinner was calling your name. Seeing Chan in the flesh was amazing. But Galbi beat everything at this moment. BM smiled brightly and motioned for Chan to take a seat next to you. How sweet.

2 minutes. 115bpm.

You bowed your head slightly to say hello, still a bit too stunned to speak. Chan gave a small head bow back. "Sorry about this," he chuckled. You told him it was okay, but still unable to make eye contact. Despite that, you knew he looked incredible. He always did.

Focus! You tried to snap yourself out of it and took deep breaths. In and out. In and out.

"So... you learned Korean to watch us live? That's sweet," Chan felt awkward all of a sudden. When Peniel texted him, this wasn't what he expected to be doing during the interview. "How many languages do you know?"

You close your eyes and focus back on the game. Here you were making casual conversation, while 3 other idols were jabbing at you, trying to get your heart rate back up. "Four; English, Korean, Japanese, and Spanish."

"Holy crap, how is it going down?!" Eric looked at the monitor and backed up at you. You kept your eyes closed, trying to maintain a steady rhythm. Everyone but Chan was losing their shit.

You could hear BM jump to his feet. The impending doom of a very large bill drove his heart rate up. "Chan, do something!" He exclaimed in Korean. Chan giggled next to you; "What? What do I do?"

"Hit on her!" Peniel got up as well. All attention is now on Chan. Eric stood up and pointed at the two competitors; "Hey! Hey! You leave her alone!"

You couldn't help but chuckle; "I was subscribed to his bubble. I was in the trenches with the rest of STAY. There's nothing he can say that I haven't heard."

Chan clicked his teeth with his tongue. His eyes narrowed. A challenge. He looked at you, with your eyes still closed, before casting his gaze over at Eric. "Anyway, we can mute our mics for a sec?"

Your eyes shot open.

1 minute. 120bpm.

BM ran over to mute your mic. As soon as he backed up, Chan leaned in close to your ear. His breath tickled your cheek, and you had to close your eyes again. 125 bpm. 30 seconds.

"I bet I can make you scream in Korean."

Chan wasn't expecting you to turn your head so quickly towards him. The way your face flushed. Your eyes wide. Everything about you was making his heart race. You locked eyes with him and felt like you couldn't breathe. This was it. That free galbi was gone.

The buzzer went off.

Everyone turned to the monitor.

129bpm.

You shot up from your seat and hugged Eric. Peniel and BM groaned at their loss. Chan laughed as he watched the two of you jumping around, singing about free barbeque.

He took a moment to sneak a look at you, his gaze traveling up and down. The way your hair bounced with you and how your outfit was snuggling your curves just right. He stood up as Eric said their sign-off. Once the cameras were shut off, the teasing started between the four. Peniel placed his arm around the younger idol and pulled him in a side hug. "It's okay," he reassured Chan. "It's not entirely your fault. A good majority of it. But, not fully."

Chan laughed and rolled his eyes. Everyone came up to thank him for coming over. That's when he locked eyes with you again, giving him a bright smile.

You gave the bow you weren't able to give before, formally introducing yourself. You all talked for a bit until you felt your hunger start to spike up; "Okay, so when are we getting dinner?"

The group settled for a time later tonight so everyone could get ready. BM invites Chan to tag along.

"No no," Chan shook his head, not wanting to impose. Peniel tickled his stomach as the rest of the group tried to get him to agree. You couldn't help but chime in. Part of you being selfish and wanting to spend more time with him and also wanting to get a jab in at Peniel and BM; "Come on, it'll be fun. And free!"

Chan looked at you. It was subtle, but his cheeks turned a bit red. "Y-yea, okay."

Chan made his way back to his dorm. The rest of the members who share the space are away on their own schedules. It was rare for Chan to spend the night alone.

He groaned as he plopped on the couch. He was still a bit jet lagged from flying from NYC back home. Laying his head on the back of the couch, he tried to take a nap before having to get ready to head out for dinner with you and the rest of the group.

You.

His mind was restless, and for some reason, they kept fluttering back to you. No matter how much he tried to push them out, he couldn't stop thinking about your big doe eyes. The way your breath hitched as he leaned in. The perfume you were wearing.

Was it Channel? Gucci? Whatever it was, it was flowery like a spring day. He could still smell it on his clothes oh so slightly.

Biting his lower lip, he got up from his seat and headed to the shower. The warm water was welcoming as he tried to clear his head. Unfortunately, it seemed there was only one thing to rid him of these thoughts.

The amount of guilt he felt once he stroked his cock to the thought of you was soon discarded as his mind wandered even more.

What were you like? Did you relinquish control or demand it? Were your lips as soft as he can imagine? Your mouth--oh God. How would it feel to have it wrapped around him? Were you a moaner? A screamer? Could he scramble your brain so much that you scream for him in Korean? Would you come in multiple languages?

He sped up his pace even faster. Water cascaded down his back as he faced the tile bathroom wall. One hand on the structure to ground him as he lost himself at the thought of you. He leaned his head back as he felt himself building and building. The warm water was a comforting feeling on his scalp.

The way he would take you as soon as you entered the dorm. No words, just a clash of flesh as he stripped you of your clothes and bent you over the couch. He wouldn't waste any time and would just thrust into your--oh God. How would you feel around his dick? How tight--

He muffled a moan as he came on his hand. The shower washed away any evidence of his inappropriate thoughts of you. He panted heavily and stood under the water for a couple of moments, pleasure rippling through him soon to be replaced with an abundant amount of guilt for getting off to someone he barely knew.

Maybe that was the thrill of it. Maybe the thought of having someone who didn't know his ups and downs is what did it for him.

Chan didn't have time to dwell on the thought as the time to meet up was fast approaching. And he hated to admit, but the thought of seeing you made his now softening cock twitch.

By the time Chan arrived at the restaurant, platters and drinks were spread across the shared table. BM and Peniel bought out a room so they could enjoy their meal without prying eyes. Chan could hear them hollering in the room before he even opened the door. His ears rang as they all loudly greeted him.

"Look who finally made it!" Peniel laughed as Chan took a seat across from them. Eric and BM were putting meat on the grill as they said their greetings. Chan couldn't help but scan the room, taking note that you weren't there. He tried to play it cool as he asked if you were running late.

"She texted us saying there was something she needed to finish up at home," BM answered him. Eric couldn't help but wiggle his eyebrows at Chan.

"Why? Scared she might not come?"

"No, no." Chan chuckled awkwardly while looking off to the side. "Was just wondering, is all."

The boys all made cooing noises. A flush of embarrassment washed over Chan at their teasing. Peniel smirked; "Wouldn't blame you, she's gorgeous!"

Chan poured himself a shot of soju, trying his best to drown out their teasing and take the stress away. The three men quit their teasing and talked about mundane things; schedules, new music coming out, and how big the bags under Chan's eyes were.

"I just flew back from New York!"

"Doesn't matter! Ever heard of eye cream!"

They were laughing at one another by the time you entered the room. Everyone stood up to greet you with a bow, and you bowed back. Gesturing for them to take their seats again. "Sounds like a party in here," you smiled as you took a seat next to Chan. He took note of how you wore your hair up in a messy bun, showing off your silver necklace. That flowery smell radiated off of you, and he had to lean a bit to the side so it didn't flood his senses in all the right ways.

"Is that soju or vodka?" You spot a filled shot glass from across the table. "Actually, it doesn't matter. Hand me it."

Chan watched you down the shot with a smile and motioned for Eric to pour you another one. "Hard day?"

The second shot went down a bit smoother and you gave him a grin. "You can say that."

He didn't need to know that the line he whispered in your ear had stressed you out to your core. It was possibly the hottest thing any man has ever said to you. It was all you could think about by the time you reached your dorm. His voice echoed in the back of your mind causing your body to feel hot.

He didn't need to know the real reason why you were late to dinner.

That you were squirming on your bed, rubbing yourself furiously between your legs. Trying to get all the tension out of your body before having to see him again.

And now you were sitting next to him. The man responsible for one of the best solo sessions in your life.

"I mean, I did have to spend half the day with these three." You gestured to the rest of the group who just booed at you. Eric rolled up a napkin and threw it your way, causing you to laugh.

As you and the group ate and drank, the room was beginning to get louder and louder. It wasn't long until everyone became tipsy.

You just finished cooking up your Galbi and offered it to the rest of the group who everyone, except Chan, declined. You used the tongs to bring it over to his plate before attempting to cut it. "Damn things," you huffed under your breath. The scissors were dull and worn out. Trying to cut through the meat was as effective as slicing a rib-eye with a spoon.

"Here," Chan grabbed the tongs and scissors from your hand. Despite the very brief time that his fingers brushed yours, you couldn't help but blush a bit as he gave you your half. You didn't have time to feel embarrassed as you caught Eric eyeing the two of you. He had his fingers interlaced and resting his head on them.

"You two look cute together~"

"Shut up," you mumble and grab some kimchi to add to your plate.

Chan sat quietly next to you. He plopped some food in his mouth, the best excuse he had to not comment. BM chuckled before pouring another round of drinks. "What did you say to her anyway? Peniel was screaming so loud I couldn't even hear it."

The two of you were sitting so close to one another, that you could feel Chan stiffen next to you. No doubt, wanting to avoid another round of ridicule from his colleagues.

"Awe, jealous he wasn't whispering in your ear instead?"

That snarky reply was all it took for the other two boys to holler and tease the living crap out of him. As the night progressed, soon talk of continuing the party commenced. Chan mentioned he had a free dorm tonight.

"You in?"  Eric asked you. You looked up from your plate of Galbi and rice. You were so distracted by your plate that you didn't realize they were all waiting for your answer. You hesitated. You obviously had this attraction to Chan since the interview. Hell since even before you became a trainee. The frustration of him being so near, mixed with alcohol, might just be the equation for something disastrous.

Chan bit his lower lip while sneaking a glance at you. He knew it was stupid to invite everyone over. To invite you over. He was already feeling the effects of drinking so much, trying to keep pace with everyone. What if he slipped up? Did something that made you hate him?

But then a wonderful thought popped into his mind: What if something amazing happened?

"It'll be fun," Chan gave you his shy grin. Your heart raced as you two locked eyes. How could you say no to that face?

"You got this," you whispered to yourself as you stood in front of Chan's door. It wasn't every day you're invited to a celebrity's apartment. Especially one that you've imagined in bed with when you're stressed out after work. Everyone left in their own taxi after dinner, planning to meet up at Chan's. You stayed a bit behind to make some phone calls to your family overseas, promising that you would be there soon. "Totally normal get-together. Nothing to worry about."

After a couple of seconds, you gather enough courage to knock on the door. A moment or two the door swings open and Chan stands there. God, he looked great with his messy hair, black tee, and joggers. Giving him that ready-for-bed look--

"Wait, were you asleep?"

Chan's face turned red. He was in bed. But he definitely wasn't sleeping.

"They didn't text you? They got a call on the way over, their schedule moved up earlier in the morning so they headed back home."

Oh.

You pull out your phone and groan. "Batteries dead." You just had to make those calls? You knew your mom could talk your ear off.

"Sorry," you put the phone back in your pocket. Taking a step back, you start to head out. "Have a good night."

"Wait!" He couldn't just let you leave. It could be from all the alcohol, but watching you saunter away felt wrong. He wanted you near him. To stay. "It's late... You can charge your phone and call a cab here if you want."

You didn't fight it. You know you should've. Chan was right, it was late. The responsible thing to do would be to go home. But that didn't stop you from sitting on his couch waiting for your phone to charge enough to call your ride. The two of you scrolled through YouTube on his TV, chatting about anything that came to mind as you both sipped on some mixed drinks Chan concocted when you first entered the apartment.

It was weird. Without the others, conversation flowed almost naturally between you two.

"You mean to tell me, you've never watched any of your own fan cams?!" You exclaimed. Chan shook his head and laughed shyly.

"No, it felt weird watching close-ups of myself if that makes sense?"

"You really should, they always look phenomenal!"

You grabbed the remote to scroll through the recommended videos to watch. Chan took the opportunity took look you over for the umpteenth time tonight. Here he was just in joggers and an oversized shirt while you sported a cute long-sleeved crop top and tight jeans. He had to grab the pillow next to him to cover up the bulge he was sporting.

You settled on a music video by RenMakesMusic.  The strum of the guitar had Chan bobbing his head along to the beat. The lyrics were a bit dark but meaningful. "This is good," Chan mused. "Turn it up a bit."

You gladly obliged with a smile, pressing the remote's volume button so his subwoofers would have to do some heavy lifting. Music filled the apartment as the two of you watched the video. You didn't realize it initially, but your shoulder pressed against his. You slowly shifted to your right, to create distance not trying to give him the wrong impression, but were surprised when he leaned back into you. It was comforting.

It was right.

"Everything okay?"

Chan's question broke through your mind wandering. You felt your cheeks heat up a bit. "Y-yea, um. Where's the bathroom?"

"Down the hall, to the right."

Chan watched as you made your way to the guest bathroom. He couldn't help but keep his eyes on your backside. Once you disappeared, he leaned further back into the couch and groaned.

What was he doing? Letting you in this late, checking you out when you weren't looking, trying to get any physical contact no matter how little it was. It was stress, it had to be. His schedule has been so hectic lately his body was trying to find relief since his mind was almost running amock. Chan was so lost in thought that he let YouTube play on in the background. Not paying much attention to what was playing.

When you exited the bathroom, you were greeted with bongos and macarenas bouncing through the dorm. Peaking around the corner you spotted Chan leaning against the couch. He had his head back against the rest, his eyes closed. But despite his worn-down posture, he was still tapping his foot to the beat. "Aw, come on--you call that dancing?"

Your voice brought back his focus. His side smile gave you butterflies and you couldn't help but wear your own when he quipped; "Like you know how to dance to this?"

"Alright, Christopher. Get up." You grabbed the remote next to him and turned up the stereo even more. Hopefully, anyone living above or below the apartment wouldn't be able to hear how the bass shook the walls.

His grin widened at the name change. Almost nobody called him that anymore. There was a fine line between 'Chan' and 'Christopher', one that you seemed to be willing to cross.

What else were you willing to do?

Your hand was extended to him as you stood above him from his seat. The gleam in your eye was bright, almost playful. There was this weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. Bubbly and light. How the light casts around your silhouette made him realize why he felt the way he did when his eyes locked on you.

You were a goddess.

"You just gonna sit there? Come on, get up."

He didn't know what you said, but by the way, you grabbed onto his hand and pulled him from his seat, he knew he was in no position to argue.

You were a tough dance instructor. You corrected almost every misstep in Spanish. He couldn't comprehend your scolding, but he'll be damned to admit that at this point, he was doing it on purpose. There was something incredibly hot about being reprimanded in an unknown language.

"Dear all that is mighty," you sighed. "You're too stiff, loosen up a bit. Here, why don't you take the lead instead."

That caused his brain to malfunction a bit. He stuttered like a middle school kid being asked to dance for the first time. Without waiting for a reply, you grab his hands in yours and guide them on your body.  His hold on your waist was firm, but not too tough. He didn't want to scare you away. Not when he was so close to you he could smell your shampoo. Especially, not when you wrapped your arms around his neck and those eyes of yours were peering into his soul as you two stepped to the fast beat.

"Feel how my hips are moving?"

Oh, you bet he does.

Pushing those thoughts away, Chan tried to mimic your movement. "That's better!" You praised it, and it took everything in him not to press his body flush against yours right at that moment. He hated to admit it, but as the next song played, something with a slower tempo, every step you took with him around the living room, he somehow magically ended up closer to you.

This is the part where both of you could blame the alcohol.

You both were too inebriated to notice the fact that your phone was fully charged, that your fingers started to play with the bottom of his hair, or the fact that your faces were so close together. Chan's forehead rested on yours as the playlist finally died down to a softer ballad. YouTube ironically telling you two to slow down. But neither showing signs of listening.

"We...are going down a path you might regret." Chan closed his eyes to help steady his breathing. How were you able to do this earlier today? He felt like his heart was going to combust on the spot.

"That I might regret?" You whispered. Being this close to him felt surreal. You were sure you were about to wake up in your bed feeling very frustrated. "You won't?"

The feel of the pressure of your body was draining all his excitement from his chest to his dick. Another form of pressure was beginning to press against his underwear. A flood of penance sprung as quickly as his blood flowed to his quickening erection. "We just barely met. We don't know each other."

You pull away slightly so you can look up at him.

"Then, get to know me."

Chan knew this wasn't what you meant. But, it was too late to turn back now.

You were half-naked, a trail of clothes leading to his room.

For every question he asked, an article of your outfit was essentially ripped off you. Every question you answered, you returned the favor.

"Favorite food?" Whoops, there goes that necklace.

"Beef jerky with sticky rice." Goodbye, Chan's shirt!

He kissed you deeply and backed you up towards his bed. A brief pause as you fell into the soft cushions and he stared down at you. Your lips were puffy, chest rising and falling as you were trying to catch your breath. As much as he reveled in the thought of you being a goddess, there was something about bringing down a higher power that made him absolutely feral. Breaking you down bit by bit with every question. 

He climbed on the bed to hover over you, that stupid side smile making another appearance for the night. "That's not exactly a 'food', more of a meal."

"Sorry if I'm--ah. A bit distracted." You close your eyes as he attaches his lips right below your ear. Sucking on your soft skin, not hard enough to leave bruising, but a temporary mark just for his eyes. 

Biting your lower lip, you happily extended your neck a bit to give him more access. Mind all fuzzy and unable to think as he littered your neck with small kisses. Chan gripped your thigh and pulled it up a bit, lifting your hips just enough to hold you close to his pelvis,  kneading your thighs through your tights.

"Need you to focus." He nipped softly at your skin. "How else am I going to learn everything about you?

"Favorite position?" His fingers went under the hem of your tights and helped you shed the last outer part of your outfit. Once it was thrown somewhere across his room, you wrapped the leg he was holding up around his back and used what momentum you could gather to push his back on the bed. His hands instinctively grabbed onto your hips as you straddled him.

Your lips were soft and gentle as you leaned in for a kiss, the complete opposite of the intensity shared just moments before. "Don't care, so long as I'm full."

Chan wasted no time by stripping himself of his joggers and boxers on your behalf. Stifling a moan as best as he could once he felt your clothed core perfectly placed on his growing erection.  Guiding your hips to grind against him, he grinned as you threw your head back and sighed in content. Chan rocked his hips perfectly to the rhythm he set against you, providing the much-needed friction you craved.

You were starting to think he was tanking at dancing salsa on purpose.

"Anything off limits?" You couldn't even register that his hands snuck up to undo your bra clasp. He took a second to appreciate the view. Chan couldn’t stop himself from using his forearms to prop himself up to latch onto one of your nipples. Licking and sucking at anything he could grab. The mewls coming from your mouth sounded like a song he never wanted to end. Your hand caressed the back of his head, pressing him closer. 

“Just--mmm. Just don’t stop even if I say so.”

Leaving your breast with a wet ‘plop’, he stared up at you. You could see the usual gleam in his eyes disappear. They became dark, almost predatory. Chan lifted you off so he could be above you again. He traced your skin from the collarbone down to the hem of your underwear. You arched your back at his touch; “Luckily for you--I like begging.”

Your breath hitched. Surely, he could see the wet stain on your underwear by now.

“Any safe words then?”

Last question.

Chan finger slipped underneath the cloth and played with your folds. The way you squirmed underneath him made him want to ruin you more. The chuckle he let out when you tried to squeeze your thighs together made you feel warm all the way down to your core. Chan was quick to use his body to keep you nice and spread. All for him.

“L-lemon…”

“Sorry, couldn’t hear you.” Chan slipped the tip of his middle finger in you. “Could you speak up a bit?”

“Pendej--mmmphhh” You couldn’t finish your quip. Chan pushed in further until he was knuckle-deep. His lips hovered over yours as he slowly worked in and out of you. You kept arching and writhing as he continued his ministrations, mouth wide open as you let out silent moans.

“Ah, ah--I wanna hear you.” Once he added in a second finger, you couldn't contain yourself. Moans were spilling out of you like a pornstar. Even when he kissed you, there was nothing to stop the volume you were outputting. “Good job, baby.”

“Oh?” He chuckled as he felt your walls clamp down on him. “Did you like that?”

You couldn't speak as he kept pressing into you, wiggling his fingers against your walls. “C-chan…please…”

“Sorry, what was that?” He teased as he kissed around your collarbone.

“Chan…”

The bastard kept pretending not to hear you. As if he couldn't feel you practically leaking around his fingers and clenching around him like there was no tomorrow. 

You finally had enough.

Grabbing ahold of his face with one hand, you forced him to look at you. His cheeks smashed between your fingers. “Christopher, I swear to God--if you don't fuck me right now I'm taking over.”

Ah, so you did like to be in charge.

With a grin, he gladly ripped off your panties. He pulled away just a bit, taking in your appearance. Wanting to embed it into his brain for any future sessions he might have with himself later on.

He knew he should've grabbed a condom, but the alcohol was still flowing through him and he couldn’t stop himself as he slowly pushed into you. You tried finding words; how big he felt, how full he made you, but all that could come out were whimpers as he groaned and leaned in for another kiss to ease any pain you felt.

The two of you grind against one another. Chan never fully pulled out, keeping himself nice and snug in your warmth. Stretching you out, oh so sweetly.

Chan wasted no time in picking up his thrust as you tapped his shoulder, indicating that he was okay to move. You squeaked as he hooked your knees on his shoulders and leaned down to essentially bend you in half. He was hitting a spot you never felt before; not with previous boyfriends and definitely not with your own toys at home.

“So fucking tight…” Chan hissed as his pace sped up to the point he was jackhammering into you. His lips found their way back to your neck and kept mumbling about how you felt around him. So tight, so warm, just right. His teeth nipped your ear lobe, desperate to grab onto something but knowing he couldn’t mark you up too much. “Is this good, baby? Need it harder, faster?”

When you didn’t respond to him, he slowed down a bit and leaned back to stare down at you. His cock twitched when he realized what was happening.

You laid on the bed; eyes glazed over, mouth wide open, cheeks completely flushed. You knew he was asking you a question in Korean, but the words weren’t forming in your head like they usually do. “Aw,” Chan laughed. “Does it feel that good that you forgot Korean?”

Chan let up on the pressure so his hand can snake its way to your lips. You instantly latch on to his fingers and suck. Your tongue brushes around his tips, tasting the leftover residue of yourself from earlier. Your knees unhook from his shoulder and fall on either side of his waist. A whimper leaves you as he removes his fingers from your mouth and travels down to rub your clit. Still keeping his thrust with his brutal pace.

“Ahhh…wait…” You squirmed and your hand went to grab his wrist. Chan noticed how you didn’t pull his hand away despite your pleas. “Chan, p-please--too much.”

He kept using your body. Chan could feel you clamping down around his length. “Sorry,” he breathed out as he felt the pressure in his balls rising. “You’re just, hmmmph, too perfect.”

That’s what did it for you. The fact that he listened to what you mentioned earlier, and his talk. The crash of pleasure that overcame you was intense. Chan shuddered as he felt your wave around him. “Fuck, fuck fuck,” you came with a cry. Your arms wrapped around his neck, trying to ground yourself in any way that you could. You were loud. Nothing could stop the curses that flowed out of you as you held him close against you. Chan wasn’t far behind; “Oh, I-I’m gonna--”

He pulled out and stroked his cock rapidly around his head, painting your stomach with his warm cum. Of all the art museums he visited around the world--this was by far his favorite piece of work.

The room was filled with both of your heavy pants as he laid in your arms. Once he was able to catch his breath, Chan pulled away from your embrace placing the gentlest kiss on your lips. Humming as you kissed him back. He tried to get up, but you were quick to stop him.

“Don’t go…” You pouted. Part of you knew this would be a one-time thing, but another part never wanted this to end. Chan smiled down at you and gave your cheek a quick peck.

“I’m just grabbing a towel to clean you off.”

As he walked off to the bathroom you stared down at the mess on your abdomen. The remnants of the best sex of your life were starting to cake on your skin. It took everything in you to not scoop some up and taste him in your mouth. When Chan returned with a wet cloth, he cleaned you up before plopping onto the bed beside you.

Once you caught your breath, reality set in.

Here you were, all fucked out with a colleague in the same industry. Everything told you to leave. It wasn’t like the two of you were in a relationship. It was a rash decision based on a lot of alcohol and dancing. You started to get up, but Chan was quick to wrap his hand in yours.

“You…you don’t have to go…” Chan shifted to lay on his side and stared down to not meet your eyes. Acting all shy as if he didn’t fuck the lights out of you just moments before. Your heart melted at the sight.

Slinking back into bed, his arms wrapped around you and pulled you into his chest. His cheek pressed against the top of your forehead. You could feel his heartbeat against you and closed your eyes.

“You know,” you sighed. “This was something I definitely didn’t regret.”

“Me ‘neither.”

As the morning rolled around you woke up to Chan still wrapped around you. His soft snores made you smile. There was something surreal about seeing him so at peace that made your heart flutter. Placing a small kiss on his cheek, Chan shifted slightly and groaned as he stretched a bit.

“Mornin’,” He grumbled but held a smile as soon as his eyes landed on you. Chan wasted no time in pulling you into a kiss. His hands sneaking towards your ass to knead your flesh. His excitement is present against your thigh.

"Somebody's eager," You giggle as he pressed closer to you. Chan smirked as he gently rubbed his morning wood against you.

"You can say that."

"Unfortunately--"

Chan grumbled and hid his face in the crook of your neck. "No, don't say that."

"I was just going to say, that I need some water first." It was true. After all the drinks last night, your head was pounding like never before.

"Okay," Chan smiled and got up from bed to put a pair of boxers on. "Stay put, I'll grab you something to eat too."

Minutes passed as you waited in bed. Surprise overtook you as you heard a pan sizzling and the welcoming smell of home-cooking started to flood the dorm. Dawning one of his shirts, you made your way to the kitchen. Chan's back was to you as he manned the stove. You could see how his back rippled with every movement he made.

You couldn't see it, but a smile crept on Chan's face as he felt you wrap your arms around his midriff. "I thought I told you to stay put?"

"I'm not one for taking orders." You laugh as you hook your chin on his shoulder to peer over him. "Besides," Chan stiffened a bit as he felt your lips hover over his ear. "There's something sexy about a man cooking."

"Oh?" He quickly turned off the stove and turned around to face you. Your arms wrap around his neck as he leaned down closer to your face. "And what about your water?"

It was a frenzy of passion as your lips locked with his yet again. Both of you eager to relive last night in the light of sobriety. "Water can wait," you whisper in between kisses.

Chan easily lifted you, placing you on an open counter. Your legs spread to allow him access to be closer to you. The both of you started to mold into one another as the intensity grows. "I should cook for you more often," He grins as he breaks away from the kiss to catch his breath. He lifted his shirt on you slightly so your cunt was exposed.

"Promise?" You teased as he lowered himself down slightly to bring his lips level to your core. Chan enjoyed the way your head leaned back slightly as you felt his hot breath against you.

"Promise."

The both of you were so entranced with what was about to happen, that you didn't hear the door opening. Only the shrilly scream that bounced around the dorm broke you two apart.

You instantly jumped down from the counter as Chan stood upright, finding protection from behind him. Chan tried using his body to shield your half-naked body from the view of a very frightened Felix.

Not that he really needed too.

The younger member held both hands over his eyes. Groceries bags around him, spilling its contents around the floor.

"Felix?" Chan stuttered as he grabbed a kitchen rag to cover up his erection. "W-what are you doing here?"

Chan gestured for you to run back to the room as Felix was still covering his eyes. You had no hesitation, wanting to escape from the embarrassment. AKA your own personal hell.

"I didn't want you eating alone... I was gonna make breakfast."

Author's Note: Here it is! Please let me know what you think. I'm also open to requests, I really want to get back into writing and interacting more on here. If you'd like to be added to my taglist please interact with this post (linked). Bye~

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[milla-frenchy]

Push it

3k4 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: you have a secret “relationship” with Joel, your dad's best friend. You know you can't have more, but you can’t resist the idea to provoke him a little

Warnings: 18+ mdni. Age gap (reader early 20s, Joel late 40s), Joel is a grumpy, possessive, jealous man, reader is a brat. Grinding, dry humping, oral (f/m), pussy slapping, spanking, degradation, rough sex, dirty talk, cum eating, squirting, piv, creampie

a/n: so, this is my first dbf!Joel fic. Thank you anon, for your ask ❤️ I hope you'll like it 🙏

@aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta-ing baby 💕🫶

dividers @saradika-graphics 🙏

The fic is titled after “Push it” by Garbage 

Joel was looking at you walking back and forth from the dining room and the kitchen, swaying your hips and teasing him in your short dress. And if your father had been paying any attention to him instead of the game on TV, he would have noticed the way Joel was biting his upper lip or rubbing his hands together. Joel was nervous, and the more nervous he got, the more you teased him.

“Damn brat,” Joel muttered under his breath.

“What?” your father asked.

“Nothing,” he replied and then sighed. “Just said that player really sucks, that’s all.”

“I think he’s hot,” you said cheerfully. “How old is he?”

“A little too old for you to be interested, honey. Over 30 years old.”

You scoffed at your father’s words, and you were pretty sure you heard “jesus” coming out of Joel’s mouth.

You spent the rest of the match pulling down your neckline to expose more of your cleavage or hiking your dress up your thighs. You were careful to do it in a way that your father wouldn’t consider inappropriate if he ever looked at you at some point, but he was captivated by the game. 

Your and Joel’s gazes met often and he gave you a few serious warning stares that you ignored shamelessly. You didn’t even try to hide your satisfaction each time he had to readjust his jeans.

Once the match was over, you brought their empty beer bottles back to the kitchen, and Joel's firm hand closed around your arm as soon as you were there.

“The hell you doin’?” he grumbled.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Cut the crap, sweetheart,” he hissed through his teeth. “Acting like a damn tease, makin’ me hard during the game? In front of your father, goddamn it! Could even see you’re wearing the black lingerie.”

“Ooooh… yeah, your favorite. Too bad you made it very clear the last time you filled me up- we fuck just for fun, right? So let me have fun and act as I please in my father's house. And let go of me.”

But he squeezed harder. “Keep it down,” he growled. “And that ain’t what I said.”

“Whatever. Next time you see me, I may be with my boyfriend.”

“What boyfriend?” His nostrils flared and you loved the sight.

“The one I’m probably gonna meet tonight, when I go out with my friends. The one who’ll appreciate my lingerie. Let go of me,” you repeated, yanking yourself free.

You headed towards the kitchen door, and after glancing behind, you saw him leaning against the counter. Annoyed, dark eyes, eyebrows furrowed, arm muscles stretching his black t-shirt. Irritation suited him well, he was even more handsome than usual. You tried to ignore the racing of your heart as you stepped back into the dining room.

“Can you help me with the internet at home?" he asked you in front of your father. “Connection ain't working.”

“I’m sorry, Joel, I can’t right now. I have to get ready, I’m going out tonight and my friends are picking me up in an hour.”

“Jesus, your manners?!” your father replied as if you had said the most impolite thing in the world. “Go help Joel. Your friends can wait a few minutes.”

You rolled your eyes, careful so that only Joel could see you. He smirked in a way that was so feline that you felt yourself dripping. He walked out towards his house, not checking if you were following him. He knew you were. 

Once home he sat down on his couch, resting his right arm on the backrest.

“What's the problem with the internet?”

“Ain't got any problems. Come here,” he said, patting his thighs.

“What makes you think I wanna sit on your lap?”

“Pussy's dripping. Can smell it from here.”

You rolled your eyes but you walked over to him and straddled him, placing your hands on his broad shoulders. He grabbed your hips tightly and positioned you how he exactly wanted you, his stiff shaft in his jeans against your folds covered only by your black panties. Your eyes sparkled when you felt his manhood. His were fixed on yours. Full of confidence, the eyes of a mature man, aware of his power of seduction over you.

“Stop being a brat and grind on me. I know you need it bad.”

You rolled your hips slowly, grinding against his hard cock. His hands firmly laid on your hips, but letting you lead the pace. His jeans almost hurt your inner thighs but you needed that friction against your soaked pussy. That sweet pain, the one that helps to feel better, like an itch that can be relieved only when you scratch it a little. He pulled your neckline down roughly, cupping your breasts in his palms before taking a nipple in his mouth, sucking and licking it.

“Joel…,” you whimpered.

“Keep humping me, sweetheart. Yeah, just like that. She needs it, uh?”

He took your nipple back in his mouth, licking and then nibbling on it lightly, pressing on your shoulders to feel you more.

“Use me. Use me to get off,” he said, the need in his voice showing you how much he loved feeling you rub yourself against him. You kept rolling your hips, moaning “Joel, Joel…,” your whimpers getting louder and louder, until you breathed out “it’s good, so good, I’m gonna come,” just before you came against him, whining into his neck, trembling. Your desire wetting your panties even more and flowing onto his jeans.

You let your forehead rest against him, panting into his skin that you kissed as he stroked your back, before you pulled back and faced his dark eyes.

“I wanna suck your cock,” you said, kneeling down and unzipping his jeans.

“Yeah? Gonna help me with that after your little game? That's what you wanted, uh? Wanted me to get fuckin’ hard, while I couldn't do anything about it.”

You nodded, there was no more brat attitude left in you, just eagerness as you pulled his cock out gently, and watched his weeping, red tip. You licked your lips and spread the precum around his slit with your thumb. You sucked him the way he liked, lingering on his tip for a long time, licking, sucking. Each time, you wanted to give him the sloppiest head, so that he wouldn’t think about anyone else. Wouldn’t want anyone else.

When you took his length in your mouth, getting used to its thickness, pressing your tongue against his quivering skin, you felt him shiver. Until he pressed his cock against the back of your throat, and finally put his hands on your head. You loved feeling his underlying power, his pressure on your temples.

“Don’t move,” he said in a low voice, his length buried in your hot throat. You felt his tip twitch. Finally he started to thrust, fucking your mouth and your throat, using you as a fuck hole.

The mouth of his best friend’s daughter. He didn’t think about it anymore, when he was buried in one of your three holes. His remorse was forgotten. He didn’t care what could happen next, where this relationship or whatever it was, would take both of you. Didn't think about the consequences anymore. Only your warmth, your tightness welcoming his cock, mattered.

His hands firmly gripping your head, he thrusted in, and began fucking your mouth relentlessly. From the first time he’d fucked you, you noticed how different he was from your previous boyfriends. He loved when you teased him. He loved being seated on his couch, manspreading, while you were dancing lasciviously in front of him, waiting for him to break and reach out to you. But sometimes, often, you were the one breaking first. 

When you danced like that, his gaze was full of promise. Promise to fuck you so well you’d forget your own name when he was done with you.

Guys of your age didn’t have that patience.

He loved to make you come several times before spilling his cum. Sometimes he made you come again after, with his tongue or fingers, leaving you breathless and cock dumb. 

Your ex boyfriends usually didn’t care.

But he cared.

You let him use your mouth, let him move your head back and forth. Let him bury himself in the back of your throat. You learned not to gag anymore, when he fucked it. He trained you to do it. 

His hands froze on your temples, and you knew he was about to shoot hot ropes of cum that would hit the back of your throat.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna come… swallow all of it, sweetheart. Like a good girl, just like I taught you.”

His cum spurted out, and drop by drop, you swallowed it all. Then you carefully cleaned his shaft, his tip, until he pulled out. He put his cock back in his pants, and zipped them.

“You should go, you’re gonna be late.”

“Do you have something to tell me, Joel?”

“Good evening?” He sighed when he saw your eyes, a little blurry, and added “and keep those wet panties on. I want you to remember how you came humping me, while you’re out with your friends.”

You didn’t try to meet his gaze when you heard his words, and you left.

Babe? Babe!” You heard your friend’s voice in the distance. You were so lost in your thoughts. Always the same. Joel.

“What’s wrong with you?”

You spread your hands in front of you, as if to mean you had no idea what she was talking about.

“We’re supposed to have fun and you seem… somewhere else. What’s on your mind, babe?”

You answered that everything was fine, and tried to push Joel out of your thoughts. Joel who had told you that you weren’t a couple, that you didn’t have a relationship because your father, other people couldn’t know. That this thing between you was a bonus that you were giving each other. But that there couldn’t be more.

So when a guy of your age approached you and asked you to dance, you didn’t say no. When he offered you a drink and asked if you wanted to join him in the bathroom of the bar, you didn’t say no either. Sat on the bathroom sink, you let him eat you out.

And you only thought about Joel who always did it so perfectly, knew when to lick lightly, when to suck on your clit, knew how to fill you with two of his fingers. You had to think about him, the whole time that guy was eating you out. You had to think about Joel’s beard and mustache, scratching tenderly or roughly against your sensitive skin.

It was the only way for you to come.

When you left the bathroom, Joel was the first person you saw. Dark stare. Then darker than ever, when his gaze fell on the man who walked out of the room right after you. You froze before heading to your table, but he grabbed your arm before you sat down. 

“I’m taking you back home. Now.”

“Are you mad? I come home whenever I want.”

“Wow wow! What’s going on? Are you her dad?” Joel looked at this man whose name you didn't even know, from his full height, fists clenched. Joel looked at him as if he wanted to throw him to the ground, making him take a step back.

“No I ain’t her dad, luckily for you”, he growled. He turned to you before adding “I said, now.”

You followed him, like a docile dog. Turned on by his jealousy and attitude.

“Get in the damn car,” he grumbled. He started driving, silent, hands clenching the wheel until his knuckles were white.

“Joel…”

“Don’t,” he rambled. “Don’t say a word.”

You sank into the seat, waiting for him to drop you off at your place. But he pulled into his driveway.

“Follow me,” he said, without waiting for you.

When you joined him at his house, his hands were on his hips, his gaze turned towards the ground.

“You fucked him?” he asked in a low voice.

“No. No I didn't.”

“He fucked you?”

“No, damn… He didn't fuck me.”

“Yeah?” He raised his eyebrows, in a way that was clear- he didn't believe a word you were telling him.

“Yeah,” you confirmed.

“Don't lie to me. You got that “just fucked” face.”

“Damn, I… He went down on me, that's all.”

“You let him go down on you? On that pussy?”

If you didn't know him, his tone might have seemed detached. But you had known him for a long time, and the surprise mixed with jealousy didn't escape you. Actually, it was even more than a surprise. Almost a shock.

You even felt like he was holding back from saying “my pussy.” But he had been clear about you two. Fun.

“Why do you care? You don’t want anything serious.”

“He ate you with your wet panties on? He pushed them to the side?” You nodded shyly, almost embarrassed.

“Fuck, come here,” he said, grabbing you by the hips before pulling you back towards the couch, your feet dragging in an attempt to keep up with his pace.

He pushed you roughly to sit you down and knelt down in front of you. He pulled your dress up and practically ripped your panties off, and yanked your hips towards the edge of the couch.

“I think this pussy needs to remember who makes her come,” he growled, already pushing two fingers inside you. “You're fucking soaked. You came in his damn mouth?”

“Yes I… Fuck, Joel!” He was fingering your pussy quickly, as if he wanted to remove any memory of any man other than himself.

“Was he good at it?”

“Yeah, he was perfect. Made me come so quickly.”

He slapped your swollen clit and you whined, tears at the corner of your eyes.

“I said, don't lie to me,” he spat at you, stopping his fingers deep inside your pussy.

You lowered your head before answering.

“No, he wasn't good at it. Had to think about someone else to come. Had to think about you,” you whined. “Stop being mean to me, I didn't do anything wrong!”

“I need to remind you how this cunt needs to be eaten. Like the damn slut she belongs to.”

This wasn't the first time he'd degraded you. He'd noticed early on how receptive you were to it. And the way your pussy squeezed his fingers couldn't hide it, once again.

He settled between your thighs, lapping at your cunt still soaked with another man’s saliva, your pleasure and your desire for Joel.

He dove in like it was his last meal on earth, lapping, sucking, mixing his saliva with someone else's and he didn't care. Your hands tangled in his curls. Your orgasm was building and Joel stopped just before you exploded on his fingers and tongue.

“No Joel! Please, why did you stop?”

“I don't want another tongue on this cunt. Ya hear me?”

“But you said…” He slapped your clit again, making you whimper.

“Repeat it.”

“I… fuck, Joel! Jesus… You don't want another tongue on this cunt.”

“If I see you with anyone else again, if I hear about you with anyone else, I’ll spank you so hard you won’t be able to sit down for days.”

Your pussy clenched around his fingers without you being able to control your body.

“Jesus Christ, you fuckin’ like it? You want to get punished over my knee like the dirty little brat you are?”

“I… no, I… fuck…”

“Pussy's drooling even more. Unbelievable…” He started to finger you again, slowly, and placed his thumb on your swollen and sensitive clit, making you whimper. “You were a good girl, with proper manners. And now… can't think straight since you took my fat cock, right?”

“I'm… fuck. I'm a good girl.”

“Really?” he smirked darkly. “Good girls don’t get their pussy eaten by a stranger in a damn bar.” He leaned down and licked a long stripe from your hole already filled with his fingers to your clit, before stopping again cruelly. “Good girls don’t make their man jealous,” he added before diving between your thighs, fingering you fast and so hard that his knuckles tapped against your entrance. His tongue focused on your clit, swirling around it perfectly. 

“My… my man?”

He didn't answer, growling from the depths of your thighs, making you squirm on his fingers as he fingered you hard, until jets spurted out suddenly and wetted his face.

“Fuck yeah! that’s a good girl, squirting on my face, jesus, sweetheart…”

You were completely gone, not realizing that you were cumming on his fingers still buried inside you, until he replaced them with his tongue. He drank everything you gave him, greedy, eager. You kept squirming but his strong grip kept you seated on the couch.

When your jolts stopped, he grabbed your arm to lift you up and bent you over the dining room table. His hand tightened on the back of your neck, and he unzipped his jeans, lowering them mid-thigh with the other one, before sinking into you in one go, grunting like an animal.

He buried his fingers in the flesh of your hip, pumping into you. Hard, deep thrusts, growling “take it, just like that,” and you could only take it. Letting him feed on your needy pussy, on your low moans that he could barely hear, fucking you so hard that you were almost speechless except for the whimpers.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so good.” He kept thrusting in, filling you like only he knew how.

“Harder, Joel. Harder, please,” you begged.

“Jesus…”

Clinging to the edge of the table, you tried to remain as still as possible despite his roughness that threw you forward with every thrust.

“Say my name”, he said in a needy voice. You didn’t hear him and he scoffed. “Too cock dumb to even hear me,” he growled before spanking your ass, hard, making you squeal.

“Joel!!!”

“Oh, you’re back? I said, say my fucking name.”

“J… Joel…”

“That’s right. Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours.”

A second spank landed on your already red skin.

“Say it again.”

“Damn, Joel?! Your pussy… my pussy’s yours, damnit…”

A third spank, even harder than the other ones. “Joel, what the fuck??” you whined.

“Squeezin’ me so tight, each time I spank you… don’t pretend you don’t like it, dirty fucking girl.”

You didn't answer. He was right, you liked it. He knew it and you knew it. You liked his strength, you liked that he used you. You liked being his.

“I’m gonna come. Gonna fill you up, fuck!”

He shot his cum deep in your pussy and didn't stop thrusting, pumping you full until you milked his cock.

Your hand against the wood of the table, you were breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath as his heavy body pressed against yours.

“You said it was just for fun… What happened?” you murmured.

“Ain’t what I said. I said, your father can't know. The neighbors, your friends, can't know. But you… you gotta know. I don't share. Got it?”

“Yeah… got it.”

You smiled, feeling his breath against your neck, and his hand tightening on yours, on the wood of the table.

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

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[7s3ven]

SINGLE DAD! X BABYSITTER! READER HAS ME FROTHING OMGG. Even better when the rest of TF 141 is involved

part 1 | part 2 (coming soon - rest of tf 141 introduced)

master list

MDNI 18+

Warnings: big age gap, babysitter! reader, reader is in medical school (but still legal guys)

You told yourself it was just a temporary summer job, something to fill your pockets over the Summer break as you moved into another year of university. Medical bills were not easy to pay off and your old job that paid the bare minimum did not help you in the least. All it taught you was that you had a nasty uppercut (from the time you actually hit someone and got fired).

So, you found yourself standing in front of John Price’s house. You stared up at the tall building, brows raised in surprise. He had understated how big his house was… it even had a garden and a pool. You may as well consider it a mansion.

You quickly rang the doorbell, smoothening out your tight blouse. Your much more appropriate one was in the wash so you prayed whoever answered the door did not notice.

It was a tall middle-aged who greeted you, beard cleanly trimmed and… a hat on his head. “Y/N L/N?” He asked you. You swiftly nodded, softly smiling when he stepped aside.

“So, medical school, huh? Training to become a doctor?” He asks as he brews you a cup of tea while you read over his terms and conditions.

“A surgeon, sir. Not much better, though.” You offer him another smile, hoping to ease the awkward tension.

“Right. Next time I need surgery, I’ll call you up.” He takes a sip from your tea, which you notice but you say nothing. “Just checkin’ the temperature. Wouldn’t want ya to burn yourself.” He hands you the mug, his fingers lingering on your skin for a moment too long.

“I assume this is only a quick job for you? Just away to gain a bit of money to pay those student fees off?”

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you nod. “Yes, sir. I know I should have clarified it but I’m a little desperate at this point. Besides, no retail places want to hire me… after I hit someone.”

Your words intrigued him. He let out a low chuckle as he sat across from you. “Now I’m interested.”

“Well… there’s not much to it… a guy kept staring at my chest. He said some vulgar stuff and next thing I knew, I was punching him.”

Price shrugs, leaning back in his seat. “The lad was askin’ for it. So, what do you think about the job? You’ll honestly be a glorified babysitter. Just do some cleaning and cookin’ here and there and make my baby happy and you’ll get a nice pay check every week.”

It all happened in a blur. You agreed to the job and weeks later, you found yourself at Price’s house more than your apartment. You hadn’t stepped foot into your apartment since two days ago, Price generously allowing you to use one of the guest rooms.

“Lila has a sleepover tomorrow.” Price mentions as you’re reading the instructions on how to make cookies for Lila’s bake sale.

Based on the cooking skills you had seen from Price, you doubted he could bake very well. In fact, all he could cook was steak, which was general knowledge for dads.

“I can drop her off if needed.” You offer while opening the packet of flour only for it to explode in your face. You smacked your lips together, grimacing. “Not a word.” You mutter to Price who’s chuckling under his breath.

“Wasn’t gon’ a say anything, love.” He helps wipe the flour dust off your face, still grinning in amusement.

In all honesty, your relationship with Price felt a little too domesticated, especially right now as you wore a frilly apron he had bought just for you.

“Your skirt’s too short, by the way.” Price grumbles, attempting to tug it down. “You sure no creeps stared at you on your way ‘ere? Wouldn’t want ya in danger.”

You push his hands away from your hips. “Even if people were staring, I’ll just punch them.”

You had tried to maintain a professional relationship with your boss but it was hard when he carelessly manhandled you and treated you like his wife rather than his daughter’s babysitter.

And all professional behaviour came crashing down when he unexpectedly stood behind you as you whisked the cookie batter.

“You look like a coke addict.” Price jokes, referring to the flour that still stained your face. “Like you got it everywhere but up your nose.”

“I can assure you, sir, I have never tried coke unless my friend daring me to snort sherbet counts.”

Price grins at your biting remark, his heavy hands falling to your waist. “Yeah? Heard it doesn’t feel too good with sherbet.”

“Not in the slightest.”

His hands trail dangerously low but you don’t have the courage to ask him to stop… nor do you really want him too. He seems to sense your willingness as he rests his face in the crook of your neck, body pressed up tightly against yours.

You feel more like his spoiled wife than a medical student just trying to pay her bills.

“You’re pretty, ya know that? Surprised you don’ have a boyfriend… or girlfriend. Or partner. Dunno what your label is.”

With shaking hands, you place the bowl filled with cookie batter to the side, afraid you’ll only spill it.

“Never met a woman as soft as you… most think I chased Lila’s mother away. But nah. Her mother ran off, leavin’ me with a baby. Not that I’m complaining, I love Lila… and without her, I wouldn’ have met you.”

You’re reduced to listening to Price’s words, stuck between his larger frame and the marbled kitchen counter.

“Sir.” You whisper but it reaches his keen ears. Everything after that is a distorted blur and you find yourself bent over the counter, clad in nothing but the apron, with Price right behind you.

Price was a mystery to you. How could a man be turned on by something as simple as an apron? Though, he was a single dad so it made sense.

Price is muttering praises in your ears as your knees tremble, threatening to buckle. You never imagined you’d be in your employer’s kitchen, having your back blown out by the man himself.

His hands were hungrily climbing your body, gripping every bit of exposed skin he could find. If it wasn’t for him holding you upright, you would have toppled to the ground in a heartbeat.

You feel Price lift a hand to grip your hair, tugging at your locks. He’s in a desperate stupor but you’re not any better, pushing back your hips to meet his harsh thrusts.

“Gon’ a fill ya up. Give you a baby of yer own. Fuck… be so pretty just like you. My perfect little wife.” He grunts in your ear. You have no energy to correct him; that you’re not actually his wife but you’d have no complaints if he bought you a ring.

If anything, his words spur you on more.

Your chest is heaving by the time you near your release. You’re whining like a damn dog, high pitched noises slipping past your saliva-slicked lips. And you only grow in volume as Price speeds up, pressing his body against your back.

He’s older than you, that’s a fact you knew from the start, but he’s definitely more experienced as well. His well thought out words have the desired effect on you as the coil in your stomach snaps.

Your fluids drip down your exposed legs, hitting the tiles kitchen ground in thick droplets. You hear Price swear under his breath, quickly pulling out and staining your back white.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment as he rests his forehead on your shoulder. Then he leads you towards his bathroom, ushering you inside and handing you a spare set of clothes.

“Imma place your old ones in the washing, yeah?” He mutters, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before leaving you to wash off.

You sit on the shower floor for a good five minutes, replaying the moment in your head. When you finally cleanse yourself of sweat, you slip Price’s shirt over your head, inhaling the intoxicating smell of his cologne. It was the one you liked too.

His clothes engulfed you as you stumbled back into the kitchen, hobbling a little.

“I guess I’ll… get going then.” You murmur, fidgeting with your hands.

Price reaches out a hand to brush a strand of hair away from your face. Then he nods. “See you tomorrow night, lovie.”

Right, you still had to finish those cookies and pick up your clothes.

[reasoningdaily]

My former U.S. Track and Field teammate Tori Bowie, who was found dead in her home in Florida on May 2, of complications related to childbirth at 8 months pregnant, was a beautiful runner. She was effortless. At the Rio Olympics, I ran the second leg of the 4 x 100 relay. Tori was the anchor. When she got the baton, I remember thinking, “it’s over.” She just accelerated. When she crossed the finish line, I couldn’t wait to run over to her to celebrate. It was her first, and only, Olympic gold medal.

She also picked up a silver (in the 100-m) and bronze (200-m) in Brazil. The next year, at the 2017 World Championships in London, Tori won the 100-m title, earning the title of “world’s fastest woman.” Tori started out as a long jumper. So seeing her thrive as a sprinter was a huge deal. She was just such a bright light, and people were getting to see that.

Tori grew up in Mississippi and had this huge Southern accent. She didn’t take herself too seriously. You felt this sense of ease when you were around her. I last saw her in early 2021, in San Diego, where she was training. She gave me the biggest hug; something about her spirit was just very, very sweet. I felt her sweetness come over me that day.

Tori was 32 when she died. According to the autopsy, possible complications contributing to Bowie’s death included respiratory distress and eclampsia—seizures brought on by preeclampsia, a high blood pressure disorder that can occur during pregnancy. I developed preeclampsia during my pregnancy with my daughter Camryn, who was born in November 2018. The doctors sent me to the hospital, where I would deliver Camryn during an emergency C-section, at 32 weeks. I was unsure if I was going to make it. If I was ever going to hold my precious daughter.

Like so many Black women, I was unaware of the risks I faced while pregnant. According to the CDC, in 2021 the maternal mortality rate for Black women was 2.6 times the rate for white women. About five days before I gave birth to Camryn, I was having Thanksgiving dinner with my family. I mentioned that my feet were swollen. As we went around the table, the women shared their experiences during pregnancy. My cousin said she also had swollen feet. My mom didn’t. Not once did someone say, ‘oh, well, that’s one of the indicators of preeclampsia.’ None of us knew. When I became pregnant, my doctor didn’t sit me down and tell me, ‘these are things that you should look for in your pregnancy, because you are at a greater risk to experience these complications.’

That needs to change, now, especially in light of Tori’s tragic passing. Awareness is huge. Serena Williams had near-death complications during her pregnancy. Beyoncé developed preeclampsia. I hate that it takes Tori’s situation to put this back on the map and to get people to pay attention to it. But oftentimes, we need that wake-up call.

The medical community must do its part. There are so many stories of women dying who haven’t been heard. Doctors really need to hear the pain of Black women.

Luckily, there’s hope on several fronts. Congress has introduced the Momnibus Act, a package of 13 bills crafted to eliminate racial disparities in maternal health and improve outcomes across the board. California passed Momnibus legislation back in 2021. These laws make critical investments in areas like housing, nutrition, and transportation for underserved communities. Further, several pharmaceutical companies are making advances on early detection and treatment of preeclampsia.

Three gold medalists from that 4 x 100 relay team in Rio set out to become mothers. All three of us—all Black women—had serious complications. Tianna Madison has shared that she went into labor at 26 weeks and entered the hospital “with my medical advance directive AND my will.” Tori passed away. We’re dealing with a Black Maternal Health crisis. Here you have three Olympic champions, and we’re still at risk.

I would love to have another child. That’s something that I know for sure. But will I be here to raise that child? That’s a very real concern. And that’s a terrifying thing. This is America, in 2023, and Black women are dying while giving birth. It’s absurd.

I’m hopeful that things can get better. I’m hopeful that Tori, who stood on the podium at Rio, gold around her neck and sweetness in her soul, won’t die in vain.

—as told to Sean Gregory

[txrii]

But Daddy I Love Him - Tyler Owens

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader

based on the song but daddy i love him by taylor swift

word count: 2,131

warnings: mentions of storm/tornado, like one swear word, also not edited at all lol

summary: Tyler Owens has a reputation around town for being reckless. People call him wild for going into storms the way he does. They think Y/N is just as, if not crazier, for falling for someone like him. Her father is no different than them, fearing his daughter may one day be hurt or even killed by Tyler's wild excursions. That is, until he has a change of heart when he does just the opposite.

a/n: it's been such a long time since i've wrote, especially x reader. over three years! shoutout to @bright-molina for letting me spout off fic ideas until i finally decided to actually sit down and write one. also, my knowledge of tornadoes is very very slim, so i’m not sure how accurate my portrayal is. i hope you all enjoy!

The adrenaline was coursing through her veins. The chase had gone well, and Tyler and his crew had been able to pull off their latest wild stunt with ease. As Y/N looked over to the driver’s seat of the truck, Tyler still had a huge smile plastered on his face. She could tell he felt the adrenaline as well. He always did, no matter how many chases he had gone on. 

Y/N wished they could stay like this forever. But, as they turned into the downtown square of her hometown, she knew what awaited them. Eyes turned immediately to the truck as it made its way down the road. Tyler had a reputation in this town. Everyone knew what he did for a living, and they thought he was crazy for it. When they found out Y/N had fallen for him, they thought she was even crazier. 

As they pulled into the long driveway of the farmhouse Y/N called home, a man was seated in a chair on the porch reading a book. Y/N sighed as she looked down at her fingers intertwined with Tyler’s. She knew what was to come when she got out of the truck. She knew her father didn’t like Tyler, and he made sure to make it clear. When the truck reached the end of the driveway, Tyler got out and headed to the passenger door. He opened it and Y/N hopped out, fingers once again intertwined with his. She smiled as she reached up to plant a kiss on his cheek. He bent down to plant one on the top of her head, whispering, “See you later, sweetheart.” Y/N dropped Tyler’s hand as she made her way to the porch. Tyler glanced over at Y/N’s father who was still sitting on the porch, tipping his hat in his direction as he moved to get back in his truck. Y/N’s father gave no response other than pursed lips. 

Tyler pulled away as Y/N made it to the top of the steps. “Hey, daddy,” Y/N said with a smile as she faced her father. He let out a sigh, setting his book on the porch table, “When are you going to let that boy go, huh?” Y/N pursed her lips. She sat down in the empty chair next to him, feeling defeated, “I really wish you’d give him a chance, daddy. It’s been almost a year. He’s not as bad as the town makes him out to be, really. If you just got to know him -” 

She was cut off by her father’s sharp reply, “I know all I need to know about him, Y/N. Come to your senses and see what’s really going on. He’s crazy with all these stunts.” Y/N smiled slightly. Everyone said the same thing. She tried again to get through to her father, “I know he’s crazy, but he’s the one I want. I just wish you’d just have one conversation with him, then you’d see he really isn’t that bad.” Her father was not having this. He stood up angrily, “Y/N, you’re going to get hurt, or worse. One of these days you’re going to go out on one of these chases,” he emphasized “chases” with air quotes, “and you’re not going to come home. I wish you could see just how dangerous this really is.” Y/N stood up to face him once again. The adrenaline from the chase was still running hot through her veins. Tears began to form in her eyes as she yelled, “Daddy, I love him! I wish you could see that!” As the tears began to fall, she made her way into the house and to her room, putting her father’s pleas behind her.

Tyler had a reputation around the town before the two had even met. Everyone knew of the infamous “Tornado Wrangler” and the crew that followed him around. Being from an area where storms were common, they made multiple appearances in local bars and motels to celebrate chases and rest up after them. That was how the two met. Y/N bumped into him - quite literally - as she was leaving a restaurant next door to a bar he and the crew were just entering. He invited her along for a drink, and the rest was history. When someone found out they were together, the news spread around the town like wildfire. No one could believe it. Y/N Y/L/N was a quiet, introverted local girl; Tyler Owens was chaos, he was revelry. The two were polar opposites, and according to this small town, that should never work. Whenever that red, overly-modified truck rolled into town there were whispers and stares, and they were only amplified when Y/N began appearing in the passenger seat. But the whispers couldn’t be heard over the loving stares and the screeching tires of the truck.

The news of the storm scheduled to hit in a town about an hour away was plastered over every news station. They said it was supposed to be one of the biggest the town had seen in a decade. This just piqued the interest of Tyler and the crew. And, of course, Y/N wanted to tag along. She darted through the house, getting a small pack of supplies ready for the chase. It didn’t take long for her father to catch on to what she was doing. He stood in front of her in an attempt to block her from packing any more, “Y/N Y/L/N, don’t tell me you’re seriously thinking of going out there.” Y/N huffed as she slipped through an opening between the man and the wall. “Daddy, I’ll be fine. You may not realize it, but Tyler wouldn’t let anything happen to me. He wouldn’t get us into anything he knew he couldn’t get us out of.” Her father turned to face her once again, crossing his arms. “Y/N, I just want what’s best for you. I’m tired of hearing about this boy and his stunts…” The girl tuned him out as she could hear the familiar purr of the engine pulling up the drive. She grinned and hoisted the bag she was packing up onto her shoulder, headed down the stairs. Her father, of course, followed her, voice becoming more frantic. 

Y/N swung open the door, and there he was, the man she loved, standing at the bottom of the porch steps. He grinned back at her, once again tipping his hat at her father. “I’ll take good care of her, sir,” Tyler said, hoping to ease the man’s mind. It, of course, did not. He once again tried to plead with his daughter, but began directing his anger toward Tyler when he realized she still wasn’t listening. Tyler gave a subtle sigh, pursing his lips, as he extended his hand toward Y/N, who followed him to the truck. When the two were settled in, Tyler turned to Y/N, “You ready, baby?” Y/N gave a grin, “Floor it, Ty.” And then they were off.

The news channels got one thing wrong, the storm was much worse than they had expected. The crew were only a couple miles outside the town they landed in when they realized it. They turned right around, they had to make sure they got everyone they could to safety. They split up when they got back, in order to cover as much ground as possible. Tyler would not let Y/N out of his sight; he promised her father he’d keep her safe, and he knew her father would never forgive him if anything happened to her. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself.

Tyler and Y/N had gotten everyone they could to safety, now it was time for them to get there themselves. They ran towards one of the shelters they had ushered people into. The closer they got, the more the wind picked up. Objects began to fly left and right. Tyler did everything he could to block them from Y/N, earning himself a few cuts and bruises. Finally, they made it to the shelter. Tyler helped Y/N in then climbed in himself, shutting and securing the doors behind him. Y/N was shaking as she lowered herself to the floor and took cover. Sure, she had been in storms herself, but nothing to this extent. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that would somehow make time go faster. Tyler, who had just taken cover next to her, reached out to try and give her some sort of comfort. He pulled her close, trying to give her more protection with his own body. They listened to the roaring sound, like a train was passing right above them. After what felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes, the sound quieted down. It was over, they were safe. Tyler gave Y/N’s shoulder a squeeze, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “You can open your eyes now, sweetheart. It’s done, it’s gone,” he whispered in her ear. Someone had already opened the shelter and light streamed in. Only a few buildings still stood, the rest diminished to a mass of rubble. Y/N and Tyler shared a glance before finding the rest of the crew and getting to work helping however they could.

Tyler and Y/N drove home nearly in silence. Y/N was still extremely shaken up, and Tyler knew that. He would try to make conversation here and there, but he knew Y/N was probably not in the headspace to make jokes. Halfway through the drive, Y/N spoke over the soft country music playing in the truck, “What are we going to tell my dad, Ty? You heard what he was saying before we left. There’s no way I’m going to change his mind about you now.” Y/N had tried to call her dad numerous times, but was unable to pick up any service. Tyler sighed, reaching his hand out for her to grab, “I’m sure he’ll understand, sweetheart.” As Y/N laced her fingers with his, he lifted their hands up to place a kiss on the back of hers. 

Y/N’s father had never once been happy to hear the roar of the engine of that truck pulling into his driveway. But today, he knew that only meant one thing, his baby girl was okay. He burst through the door just as Tyler had made his way to the passenger door to let Y/N out. The man ran down the porch, almost stumbling and falling, and wrapped his daughter in the biggest hug he had ever given her. There were tears forming in his eyes as he exclaimed how happy he was that Y/N had come back safe. She laughed a little bit as he let go, “Hi, daddy.” Tyler was standing off to the side, wanting to give the two some space, but also preparing for what the man might say to him. He was well aware Y/N’s father did not care for him much. Tyler saw Y/N gesture his way, and her father’s eyes found him, gesturing for him to come over. Tyler approached, ready for whatever may come from the man. To his surprise, however, the man reached a hand out for him to shake. Tyler shook his hand, relieved. He’s once again caught off guard, however, as Y/N’s father wraps him in a hug almost as big as the one he gave his daughter. He kept muttering thank yous as Tyler stood there, shocked and stiff as a board. Y/N giggled at the sight. But, hey, at least her father finally properly met Tyler.

A few weeks later, after Y/N had almost shaken off everything that had happened, she took Tyler and her father out to lunch. The sun was warm and beautiful, not a storm in sight. Turns out, just as she had thought, her father loved him as soon as he got to know him. The townsfolk looked at the three sitting on the restaurant patio, dumbfounded. Y/N looked at them and giggled, adjusting the strap of her dress that had started to fall slightly, “Oh my God, they should see their faces!” Tyler and her father joined her in laughing, and Tyler reached for her hand. The two laced their fingers together. Tyler gave a glance at their audience and then back to Y/N, “Fuck ‘em. You’re my lady, and that’s all we need.” He placed another kiss onto the top of her hand. 

Y/N smiled back at him, “Me and my wild boy.”