#I want you to love me more than I love you tell me is that something you can do

[solxamber]

You Try to Sleep on the Couch after an Argument with: First Years (-Ortho)

Other parts: Housewardens ; Vice-Housewardens + Ruggie

Ace Trappola

The argument wasn’t loud—no yelling, no dramatic walkouts—just tense words exchanged with a little too much bite. Ace had been his usual smug self, which, unsurprisingly, only made you more pissed off.

So, rather than continue arguing, you grabbed a blanket, stomped off to the couch, and flopped down with a huff. If he wanted to be insufferable, fine. He could enjoy the bed all to himself.

You had just started arranging the cushions when you heard footsteps.

Then, before you could even process what was happening, a pillow dropped onto the couch beside yours, and Ace casually sprawled out like he had been invited.

You blinked. “Ace??”

He glanced at you, completely at ease. “What? We’re sleeping here tonight, right?”

You stared at him, then at the couch, then back at him. “We?”

Ace, the menace that he was, patted the tiny sliver of space beside him like he hadn’t just hijacked your whole plan.

You gawked at him. “You have an entire bed.”

“Yeah, but you’re here.”

“That’s the point, Ace!”

He had the audacity to grin. “Exactly. So, obviously, I’m here too.”

You gaped at him, absolutely stunned at the sheer level of his nonsense. Meanwhile, he just folded his arms behind his head, getting even more comfortable.

You glared. He grinned wider.

Then, after a long moment, he scratched his cheek, his bravado slipping just a little. “...Okay, maybe I should’ve asked first.” He glanced at you, a little sheepish. “But, uh. I don’t like going to bed when you’re mad at me. So… can I stay?”

The worst part? He actually looked kind of earnest. Like he meant it. Like this wasn’t just another one of his schemes to get his way, but something real.

Your irritation wavered. Damn it.

With a dramatic sigh, you gave in, flopping down beside him.

Ace, the absolute menace, beamed like he had just won the lottery. Then, without missing a beat, he threw an arm around you and pulled you right into his chest.

“You’re insufferable,” you grumbled against his hoodie.

“Mm. But cuddly, right?”

“…Shut up.”

He snickered, pressing a quick, lazy kiss to your forehead. “Love you too.”

And, annoyingly enough, you found yourself smiling as you drifted off—because, as much as he drove you insane, Ace Trappola was impossible to stay mad at.

Deuce had been tense, his frustration clear in the way he crossed his arms, in the tightness of his jaw. You weren’t much better, snapping back at him until the conversation hit a dead end, leaving you both too stubborn to fix it in the moment.

Deuce Spade

The argument wasn’t a loud one—no shouting, no dramatic exits—just an exchange of clipped words that left a bitter taste in your mouth.

So, rather than risk making it worse, you grabbed a blanket and went to the couch, throwing yourself onto it with the kind of determination that came from being just annoyed enough to stick to your decision. You adjusted the pillows, tucked the blanket around yourself, and ignored the way the room felt too quiet now.

Behind you, there was a pause. A shuffle of feet. Deuce lingered, but he didn’t stop you.

You shifted, trying to get comfortable. It didn’t work. The couch was fine, but it wasn’t your bed. And the silence—the weight of the unspoken apology hanging between you—only made it worse.

You half-expected Deuce to just go to bed, to let you sleep off your irritation. But then—soft footsteps. Hesitant, careful. He stopped just behind the couch, lingering for a moment before speaking.

“…Can you come back?”

His voice was quieter now, no longer laced with frustration, just uncertainty.

You didn’t move.

A longer pause. Then, softer, “I’m sorry.”

You sighed, already halfway to turning around, ready to tell him that you were sorry too, that this was stupid, that you just wanted to sleep—

Then you heard it. A quiet sniffle.

Your heart lurched.

You shot up, turning so fast the blanket nearly slipped off. Deuce was standing there, head slightly bowed, arms tense at his sides. He wasn’t crying, not really, but his eyes were red-rimmed, his breathing unsteady, his lips pressed together like he was trying to keep everything in.

Oh.

Your frustration vanished instantly.

“Deuce,” you breathed, already reaching for him.

He stiffened for a moment when your fingers brushed his wrist, but then, slowly, he let you pull him toward the bed. He didn’t argue. Didn’t hesitate. The second you both reached the mattress, you wrapped your arms around him, tugging him close, feeling the way his shoulders finally relaxed under your touch.

His breath shuddered against your skin. He held onto you tightly, fingers gripping the fabric of your shirt like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. You squeezed him in return, as he pressed his face into your neck, letting the warmth between you say what words couldn’t.

“…I’m sorry,” he murmured after a long moment, his voice quieter, steadier.

You ran your hand down his back, a slow, soothing motion. “Me too.”

His breathing evened out, his grip loosening just slightly. Neither of you spoke after that. There wasn’t a need to. You just held him, letting the warmth settle, letting the tension fade.

Jack Howl

The argument had been sharper than usual—words exchanged with too much heat, frustration lacing every syllable. Jack’s ears had flattened, his tail flicking sharply behind him, while your own patience had worn thin.

Neither of you had raised your voice, but the weight of it had been enough. Enough that when silence finally fell between you, it felt like standing on the edge of something unsteady.

So, in an act of pure pettiness, you had grabbed a blanket and stormed off to the couch, settling in with all the stubborn determination of someone who refused to be the first to cave. You curled up, pulling the blanket tight around yourself, pointedly ignoring the way the room still felt charged with unresolved tension.

For a while, there was nothing. No footsteps following, no hushed words attempting to fix things. Just silence. You shifted, adjusting the pillow beneath your head, exhaling sharply. Fine. If Jack wanted to sleep alone tonight, so be it.

Then—the faintest creak of the floorboards.

You blinked, turning over just enough to peer into the dim light of the living room. Jack was there, sitting stiffly on the couch opposite you, his arms crossed, tail curled loosely around the edge of the cushion. He didn’t look at you directly, his gaze fixed somewhere ahead, expression unreadable.

You furrowed your brows. “…What are you doing?”

His ears twitched. A beat of hesitation. Then, a quiet, gruff reply.

“Go to sleep. I’m just keeping watch.”

Something in your chest ached at that. Even after the argument, after the sharp words exchanged, he was still looking out for you. He always did.

You sighed, sitting up, the tension in your body already loosening. “Jack.”

He glanced at you then, ears flicking back slightly, wary.

Without another word, you stood, dragging the blanket with you as you crossed the room. Jack stiffened slightly when you reached for his wrist, but he didn’t pull away. You tugged, gentle but firm.

“Come back to bed.”

He hesitated. Then, slowly, he let himself be pulled up, following you without resistance.

The moment you both settled back onto the mattress, his tail curled around you instinctively, pulling you just that much closer. The warmth of it, of him, seeped into your skin, comforting in a way words couldn’t quite capture.

A quiet exhale. Then, low, barely above a whisper—

“…I’m sorry.”

You pressed closer, fingers curling lightly into the fabric of his shirt. “I'm sorry too.”

Neither of you said anything after that. There was no need to. The steady rise and fall of his breath, the solid weight of his arm draped over you, the way his tail tightened slightly before finally relaxing—everything else could wait.

For now, this was enough.

You had hit your limit first. Not because you didn’t have more to say, but because you were just too tired. Too tired to keep fighting, too tired to keep letting the hurt simmer in your chest. So, without another word, you had grabbed a blanket and settled on the couch, turning your back to the bedroom.

Epel Felmier

The argument had spiraled out of control so fast that you barely remembered how it even started. One second, it was just a disagreement—sharp words exchanged, but nothing too serious. And then, all at once, it was a mess, voices raised, frustration bleeding into every syllable.

The anger still sat heavy in your stomach, but beneath it, sadness gnawed at the edges. You hated arguing with him. Hated the way silence felt like a wall between you now. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to just sleep through it, to let the exhaustion pull you under.

It worked—for a while.

Then, the sharp clatter of pans yanked you back into consciousness.

You blinked blearily, registering the soft muttering, the sound of something nearly toppling over, the distinct smell of something cooking. Still wrapped in your blanket, you dragged yourself off the couch, stumbling toward the kitchen.

Epel was standing at the stove, back turned to you, gripping a pan with slightly unsteady hands. His hair was still messy from sleep, and even though his voice was quiet, you could hear the edge of frustration in the low curses under his breath.

You hesitated in the doorway, taking in the scene. The counter was a mess, a dish towel discarded haphazardly, the remnants of a nearly-spilled carton of eggs sitting precariously close to the edge.

At the sound of your footsteps, he stiffened slightly. Then, without turning, he muttered, “Go back to bed. I’ll bring it to you.”

His voice was rough, but not unkind. Just strained.

You stepped closer, noticing the way his shoulders were set too tight, the way his fingers clenched the pan handle like he was trying to steady himself. And when he finally turned just enough that you could see his face—he still wouldn’t meet your eyes.

Your heart clenched.

Without thinking, you reached forward, gently prying his fingers from the pan. His breath hitched, but he didn’t pull away. The moment his hands were free, they hovered awkwardly at his sides—until, in one swift motion, he grabbed you and held on tight.

His arms wrapped around you, his grip desperate, like he was afraid you’d slip away if he let go. His forehead pressed into your shoulder, breath warm against your skin as he exhaled shakily.

“…I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice thick with something heavy. “I shouldn’t’ve pushed you that hard. Shouldn’t’ve let it get that bad.”

You softened instantly, guilt pressing at the edges of your own frustration. You wrapped your arms around him just as tightly, hands smoothing over his back. “I’m sorry too.”

For a long moment, neither of you moved, just holding onto each other, letting the warmth settle between you.

Then, after a pause, you murmured, “C’mon. You’re gonna burn the eggs.”

Epel let out a small laugh against your shoulder before finally pulling back, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, alright.”

You nudged him toward the stove, settling beside him. Together, you finished making breakfast, the quiet weight between you easing with every passing second.

So you had done the only thing you could think of before either of you said something you’d truly regret. You left.

Sebek Zigvolt

The argument had been bad. Worse than usual. Sebek had always been intense, but tonight had been different—his voice sharper, his stance rigid with frustration, his words carrying the weight of something neither of you had been willing to back down from.

Grabbing a blanket, you stormed off to the couch, body still buzzing with leftover adrenaline. You barely managed to settle in before you heard heavy footsteps marching straight toward you.

Then, a firm voice cut through the quiet.

“Take the bed.”

You cracked an eye open, already exhausted. Sebek stood at the edge of the couch, arms crossed, expression unyielding. His stance was as rigid as ever, but there was something beneath the surface—something uncertain, something hesitant.

You exhaled through your nose and turned over, pulling the blanket higher. “Go to sleep, Sebek.”

“I will. Once you’re in the bed where you belong.”

You groaned, but before you could snap at him, he was suddenly kneeling beside the couch, eyes burning with unshaken resolve. His voice dropped lower, quieter, the sharpness softened at the edges.

“A knight cannot allow their beloved to sleep on the couch. It is unbecoming. Please.” His jaw tightened for a moment before he exhaled and added, “I… I should not have let it get this far. I should not have raised my voice at you.” His head bowed slightly, shoulders stiff. “I am sorry.”

You blinked, caught off guard. Sebek was loud. He was brash. He was stubborn beyond reason. But kneeling there, humbled in the quiet glow of the moonlight, his apology raw and unguarded—you felt your own frustration ebb.

Slowly, you sat up, watching the way his hands clenched against his knees. And then, instead of answering, you leaned forward, resting your forehead against his.

Sebek froze.

Then, before he could react, you grabbed the front of his shirt and tugged.

He let out a startled noise as you dragged him onto the couch, his balance thrown as he landed beside you. The couch was too small—he was too tall, too broad, and neither of you fit properly. But you didn’t care.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, pressing against his chest, letting his warmth ease the last remnants of your anger.

Sebek let out a strangled sound, arms hovering as if unsure whether to hold you or allow you to push him away. When you didn’t, when you simply curled closer, his hesitation melted.

With a deep exhale, he shifted, adjusting his position so he could wrap his arms around you. His hold was steady, protective, his warmth seeping into your bones.

“…This couch is entirely unsuitable for sleeping,” he grumbled, but his voice had lost its earlier edge.

You huffed a quiet laugh, pressing your face into his shoulder. “Then go to bed.”

A pause.

“…No.”

You smiled against the fabric of his shirt, and he squeezed you a little tighter. The couch was too small, the position awkward, but as long as he was holding you, it was enough.

Masterlist

[urstruly-ghst]

cool w you ?! - dorm leaders

in which you, the most nonchalant of all, turn out to be a big softie around them.

requested ask !

cw: established relationships

riddle rosehearts

riddle found that you were really not that expressive, quite quickly, in the first few months of knowing you. it was jarring, especially when you turned comfortable now, you were cooing and smiling. this felt like he had an alter ego for a partner, you were blushing and giggling as he enjoyed your company and affection. but, honestly, was he to complain?

the favorite moments he had with you were mixed, there were many moments he wished you showed more. riddle finds it cute whenever you "baby talk" him. showing affection as if he does deserve it amidst the horrible actions he had done and what had be done to him.

"heyyy there's my shining star. my roseeee" you drawl out your words as you laid on his bed, opening your arms for him. riddle smiled as you giggled once in a while, cooing random melodies and compliments.

leona kingscholar

leona deducted there was more to you the moment he started dating you. he wasn't quite sure what it was, but when he found out. he was proud. leona notes you're like a very untamed domestic animal, hostile or nonchalant. but throw in affection you turn to something even more adorable.

he is so smug with this discovery, leona cherishes every moment that you become so sweet and clingy. the favorite moments shared with you are when he would lay on your lap to sleep and you pamper him with kisses or head pats.

"i loveee you" you whisper as you kissed his nose then try to run your hands through his hair. leona smirks and nods in content, "say it baaack" you whine as you playfully tug his hair. leona shakes his head before rising a bit to kiss you on the lips. surely now you know?

azul ashengrotto

azul felt insecure at first, seeing as you sometimes parade no interest in him. however, the twins were very quick to note and allow him to observe the difference of your actions towards your friends then to him. later on, he'd witness a side he never knew existed.

the times you showed him your vulnerability made him feel so accomplished than any of his previous feats. after all, he was so happy that your trust in him was always present. azul's absolute favorite was when you both are vulnerable and showing off each other's flaws or imperfections.

azul sits in his pot with his tentacles overflowing. you smile and compliment him, a sparkle of vulnerability shining through as you tell him in full honesty how pretty he is to you. you reach out to him smiling softly. "my darling... you always make me feel loved, you deserve this as much as i deserve your love"

kalim al asim

kalim never understood why you were not expressive even if he was your friend, but that's fine, its nice to know that you were honest with him. however, when you were now dating, that nonchalance became endearing and even adorable for him.

it was however, his favorite thing to do to break it. especially when he first witnessed it in passing, you were out of character and he was blushing and smiling. how does anyone like you be this sweet and not show him? frankly, it was not good that you hid it because now he'll constantly try to break that layer of coolness on you.

"kalim, not here!" you yelped as you try to hide the smile creeping up on your lips. he was so happy, seeing that hint of a smile. you were in the dorm's lounge and kalim wanted to make you soft again.

"where then?!" kalim said excitedly because he'll drag you there. you giggle, and slowly ease into the persona he brought out of you. he felt his heart warm and all kalim can think is his luck really brought you to him.

vil schoenheit

vil understands that not everyone would have the same reaction and people would reciprocate emotion differently. he never saw the issue of your nonchalance, all vil can do is accept. however, when you two start dating, vil was pleasantly surprised at how affectionate you can be. he admits, he likes it, it makes all more sweeter.

there are many favorites memories. vil cannot narrow it down, however, there is one he favors the most. when you post him in a secret account and show off your collages of pictures. it was intimate and it was immortalizing, which was all he wanted.

"vil~ look, i got so many picturesss!" you say as you proudly show off the gallery that was filled to the brim of newer pictures from your date earlier. one picture caught his eye, the kiss picture.

"its my favorite! look at us!" you giggle as you try to send it to him. the small smile that vil poised turned softer and a bit wider, you keep winning him over.

idia shroud

idia thought you hated him, in all honesty, at first. sure, he wasn't the best guy or even the friendliest, but just a blank stare and no emotion whatsoever?! yeah, he may be all moody and avoidant but that doesn't mean anything! thankfully, you cleared it all up when you two started seeing each other more.

however, idia wasn't ready for when you were super super affectionate. idia thought that you were swapped or hit with a spell at first, but he got used to it. he actually liked it, it made him feel all warm and idia wasn't about to trade the sunshine you made him feel.

"hiii my number one, super awesome, super duper handsome future husband~" you coo as you enter his room. idia who just finished a fairly bad match frowned but gave a small frustrated smile at you.

"bad match? well, the game was probably rigged" you joke as you plopped on his bed. he sighed and jumped in hugging you. idia felt his heart melt when you giggle and tried to cheer him up.

malleus draconia

malleus knows that not all humans would be the same at expressing. he now knows also that nonchalance is very endearing, especially with you. he can easily tell that your nonchalance is a layer, and your friendship alongside courtship proved him right.

there is fondness that he shares for each moment you let your guard down with someone like him. it made malleus happy that you trust him this much to be this sweet. malleus' favorite time to see it is when you share these nightly walks.

"mal-mal! look a star just passed us by!" you giggle and close your eyes to make a wish, a tradition that malleus orchestrates. unknown to you, malleus makes an illusion a star passed so you can wish. as youu opened your eyes, you hugged him and kissed his cheek.

"im not gonna tell, but... hope you can guess what's my wish" malleus smiles as you insuiate he was the wish. you giggle and kissed him repeatedly as you both are under the stars

[mediocre-writing]

—̳͟͞͞♡ — "I won't be able to pay the rent this month" Lando Norris X Fem!Reader

This is short but I couldn't help but write it lol

When Y/n saw this trend, she couldn't imagine anyone more perfect to do this than her boyfriend.

Lando is lying on the bed using his cell phone, and she enters the room with the cell phone in her hand and the recording already on, she holds the cell phone as if she were using it, but prays that the camera is catching his face.

"Lando." She says, getting on her knees on the bed next to him.

"Hi, kitty." Lando says without taking his eyes off his phone, but with one hand caressing her leg.

"I won't be able to pay the rent this month," she says, and that finally gets Lando's attention.

Lando stops the video and looks at her with just his eyes.

He knows his girlfriend is joking, Lando would never let her pay the rent considering how much more he earns than her.

They even had some fights about it, but they came to an agreement that Lando would pay the rent.

He loves his girlfriend's independence, she's always been like that, but he wants to take care of her, pamper her, that wasn't a burden for him, it was a privilege.

"No?" He says with a half smile.

"No, I did the math and it really is impossible."

Lando drops his phone and leans on one elbow, getting very close to her face, sighing in fake frustration.

"It turns out that I won't be able to either, I was going to tell you but... I was afraid you would kick me out." Lando says this and Y/n smiles when she sees that he joined in on her joke.

"What do we do now?"

"I guess I'll have to sell pictures of my body." Lando says this, and Y/n can't control her laughter.

He watches his girlfriend smile and he just wants to keep those moments in a memory box.

"Lando! How am I going to post this now?" She says still laughing and stopping the recording.

"Was it a joke? So you'll be able to pay?" Lando says, lying down again and pulling his girlfriend on top of him.

"If my boyfriend lets me." Y/n says laying on Lando's chest and closing her eyes.

"Never, my baby doesn't need to worry about that." He says kissing her head and closing his eyes too.

"I love you Lan"

"I love more."

[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - Part 15 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: What is inside the box?

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening, mentions of blood, mentions of murder and rape, body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation, mentions of sexual activities and desires, hinting of suicidal thoughts in the past, stalking, not beta-read, if I've missed any please tell me! mdni 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

„Life. What even is life? An endless, pointless cycle of moments and memories which all serve the sole purpose of destroying my soul?"

“What is this?”

The words were barely even audible, but you could tell that he heard you nonetheless.

You tried so hard to focus on the box and whatever was inside, to be fierce and angry, but all you could truly look at was the bouquet in his hand. A giant bouquet of white roses, just like you had mentioned before. The innocence for which white roses stood, a heart that was inexperienced in love. The secret language of flowers. You had spent a whole afternoon explaining it to him and he didn’t laugh once, he didn’t even smirk. He had been so enamored with your words and the way your eyes shone and sparkled as you spoke about it.

And now he brought them home to you. Of course he did.

It made the pain in your chest grow tenfold. How was it possible? And why did you deserve this? What did you do to deserve it?

Why now?

Why not a month ago, when you had been confused and angry, sad and disappointed, covered in marks and an air of fear?

Why now?

He slammed the roses down onto the bed and rolled his sleeves up.

Did he wash his hands already?

He cracked his knuckles and suddenly you were sure these last few weeks had been no more than a fever dream. You saw yourself, motion- and lifeless, strangled to death by his beautiful hands.

But you fought. You fought so hard to let the anger win over your fear.

“What is this?”

He hummed softly and took a step closer, only for you to back away.

“Can’t you tell?”

You looked down at the box again. It was shaking in your hands. With a few quick, uneven breaths, you reached inside and began to pull out what would, no doubt, cause you nightmares, if you made it out alive this time.

“Is everyone born with a soul? Do some of us end up losing it during the course of our life? And is the soul even real? If it isn’t, why do I feel like I can feel it breaking? Tearing and crumbling? Every time she touches me. Every time she smiles and says it’s what’s best for me.”

The paper was the most prominent, for it was so big. It was crumpled up by a few times, like someone had read it in a fit of rage and attempted to throw it away - but decided against it.

Your cry for help.

You didn’t need more than two seconds to recognize the text. You had written it quite a while ago and you remembered the day vividly in your mind. Sitting at your desk in your childhood bedroom. A storm had raged outside, like it did every so often and you found yourself crying silently, feeling the suffocating weight of your mothers abuse. After she finished punishing you with the belt for what felt like hours, she stroked your hair in a way that was almost affectionate and whispered: “My dumb, stubborn girl. This is for your best. You should know better than to defy me again.”

She then locked you in your room and you spent the next two hours lying on your stomach, crying into your pillow. Every movement was painful and the depression came crashing like a stone rain. The loneliness was the worst. After eventually you stopped crying, because your tears ran dry, you closed your eyes and imagined, how beautiful would it be? How beautiful would it be, if someone came and rescued you. If someone came and loved you.

Loved you to death.

“The darkness surrounds me like a grey cloud. And I want out. Out, out, out. Please, Lord, let me out. Let me swim in the abyss of darkness and send me a dark prince to swim alongside. Let him be broken, like I am and I promise I will set him free. Let others call him overwhelming, let them call him suffocating. Let them call him all the bad things in the world. I care not. I don’t want for his love to be easy. Don’t let him love me conveniently, passively. Let him devour me whole. Let his soul consume mine. Let him be all-consuming. Let him end me with his love. Let me be his and let him be mine. All mine.”

You spent hours of your childhood and youth daydreaming like that. But the outcome was always the same.

You, crying and alone in your bedroom, sobbing to yourself, because no one loved you.

And no one ever would.

Normally, you’d fall asleep after a while. But not that day. The pain was intense and the humiliation that came with it was even worse. You considered watching a show, but even that felt impossible. Reading? Oh, no. You couldn’t bear it. For once, the lovely romance didn’t bring you any comfort, because it wasn’t your own. It only ever reminded you of how you wouldn’t get that kind of affection. That attention.

That love.

Ever.

So, instead, you moved to your desk and began to mindlessly hit the keyboard of your laptop in an attempt to find some comfort in the words. You poured out your heart and soul, because it was all that you got that would keep you from dreaming of dangerous things.

Once you finished typing and you read over the lines, you did something rather odd. You logged into the website, on which you’d normally be no more than a silent reader, a quiet mouse in the walls, a fly, observing and merely existing. And for whatever reason, you really couldn’t tell, you pressed the upload button.

There was your text, your soul bled onto paper. You stared down at it and…

Nothing.

For another hour – nothing.

And eventually you gave up.

No one would read it. No one would understand it. And no one would rescue you.

You parked it in the back of your head and forgot that it existed.

It wasn’t until three months later that you began to work out a plan, apply for jobs, book a flight in the hopes of finding a reason to live, somewhere across the globe.

And when one of the companies actually considered you – it wasn’t the greatest job, but it was a job and it was a real opportunity to leave – you immediately agreed. You ended up destroying the laptop in case your mother found it and tried to find you as well.

“Where did you get this?” You hissed as you stumbled to your feet, the paper crumpled in your hand. He sighed softly and approached you with tiny steps.

“Don’t you know how the internet works, darling? Once you publish something, it belongs to the depths of the network.”

Your frown deepened. “But why do you have it?”

He raised a brow, something akin amusement dancing in his eyes. “I didn’t think that’d be the thing that spooked you the most.”

“What do you-���

All it needed was a short glance down at the box and you felt your blood run cold.

Oh God, this was even worse than you thought. Far worse.

You swallowed, but your mouth felt dry. With a shaky hand, you reached down and carefully touched what remained in the box.

Your driver’s license. So far, so bad. You had lost it a few months ago or so you thought. Somewhere in the streets of Seoul. But did you really? You had asked yourself more than once. Why would you have lost it? You hadn’t driven a car since you came here. You took the bus, the train or you walked. And so you saw no reason to carry it with you, wherever you went. You were sure you had left it in your apartment, in-between credit cards and important papers, which you still needed to sort out. But why would it disappear from the safety of your home? It made no sense. You didn’t want to be paranoid, so you simply told yourself you had lost it.

And there it was.

Your heart clenched painfully in your chest.

You had lost it, months before you even met him. But this wasn’t even the worst part.

No. The horrifying part was yet to come.

There it was – tiny, little you. Cheeky and toothless, not older than four or five. Your father had still been alive then, that was the reason you still held that spark, that gleam in your eyes. Youthful and alive. Happy, even.

A normal girl. Unbroken.

You remembered the tiny photograph. For whatever reason – it couldn’t be love – your mother had kept it. The picture had its place in the living room of your childhood home, right above the chimney. And there she was, staring up at you - the sweet, little brat that you once had been.

Somewhere in the middle of South-Korea.

And it hadn’t been you who took that picture with you.

He had been there. He had been home. He had been in the fucking house.

Back in the day, when you gathered your most necessary things, you didn’t care about tokens or childhood memories. No, you only took what you could wear, eat or pay with and then you left in a hurry. There were no things like childhood pictures. You were sure this picture belonged somewhere in Yorkshire.

A ring from your jewelry box, a near-empty lip gloss you had worn only for yourself, a hair clip, a teddy bear and was that…

Oh, God.

You stared down at the pair of panties that you had worn far more than once in your life. He hadn’t taken that from any cupboard, had he? The faint blood-stain was self-explanatory.

A wave of nausea caused you to shudder and gasp out. You pulled your hand back like you had been burned and the paper fell from your hand.

He was still standing a few feet away, watching your reaction carefully. He obviously hadn’t hoped for disgust and fear, but that was exactly what covered your expression.

“Oh, God.” You whispered breathlessly. Your blood was rushing loudly in your ears and you stumbled backwards, until your back hit the wardrobe. “Oh, God.”

“Don’t panic, alright? Let me explain.”

“Explain?! What is there to explain?! Did you- Were you in my- Fuck!”

Your hands were shaking furiously and you tugged on your own hair, hardly recognizing the pain as such. The real pain was in your chest and stomach. The real pain stood right before you.

“Let me explain.” He said more firmly and took another step closer, ready to free your hair from your bruising grip.

You backed away and stared at him with wide, crazed eyes.

“Stay the hell away from me!”

He exhaled slowly, obviously to calm himself down. He was pretty good at this now. After all, he hadn’t hit you in weeks. But now, he seemed pretty tempted.

“Calm down.” He gritted out. “Shut your mouth and let me explain.”

A cold shiver ran down your spine and suddenly the curtain was lifted again. This was one fucking Joe Goldberg worthy moment. Just that not even that guy had been twisted enough to follow his victim around the whole globe…Or had he? You hadn’t finished the show yet. And you probably never would, after all, you were as good as dead.

“Why?” You heard yourself whisper.

He ran his hands through his hair, leaving it messy in his frustration. He then took a deep breath and loosened his tie.

Oh, he would strangle you. Creative.

“It…It’s complicated.”

You frowned. Ever since you got here, you hadn’t ever before witnessed him get so…flustered? Embarrassed, even. What on earth was this?

Was he even truly angry?

“Speak.” You hissed out. “Speak, or I swear to you, I’ll-“

He raised a hand to silence you and it worked. Your anger only went as far and the fear won. There was obviously still something inside of you that fought for your safety. Your sense of self wasn’t entirely dead. Only beaten to a pulp. An unconscious one.

“I read your text.”

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I’m a sinner and I’m not a good person. The thoughts I have, they’re dark and bad. Too bad for anyone to understand, except for the lonely, broken souls which yearn for the same freedom that I do.”

Now it was you who took a breath to calm yourself. Fucking idiot.

“I then…” He groaned in frustration and kept stalking closer like a predator. “I hacked your IP-address. I found out where you lived.”

The wave of nausea became more and more apparent, leaving you gasping and near retching. You felt your mouth run dry and the room spin around you.

“I saw the pictures on your computer.”

Now, that was what caused you to stumble and your knees to give in. He immediately rushed forward, ready to catch you, but you backed away against the other wall, like a caged animal.

The pictures…

The pictures were for no one but yourself. Just a silly girl, trying on her mother’s dress and playing dress-up in her room. You remembered how the dress made you feel. Pretty in a way…but also restrained. You remembered the way your eyes glistened in the photos. Pretty, but sad. What had made you so sad? The way the dress made you feel. And the way you were so sure that you would never, never feel beautiful in a dress.

Never feel confident.

Never feel desired.

“And then?” You croaked out.

“And then I paid you a visit.” He said quietly.

“Dear Lord, I was already on my way to you. How many times? I cannot count. And what kept me here, what kept me? The hope for my dark prince to come.”

“I sat in a fucking Honda for near two days. I hid behind the hillside, so you wouldn’t get suspicious. A few times, I was sure someone would call the cops on me, but no one ever did. No wonder. Your next neighbors lived like a whole mile away. I remember getting so angry and thinking to myself, doesn’t she ever leave the house? But that anger quickly disappeared, when I finally saw you.” He smiled wistfully and tilted his head to the side. His smile seemed oddly genuine and not twisted at all. Unlike the rest of him. “Your mother was walking in front of you and speaking to someone on the phone. I remember thinking that you look nothing like her. She radiated such confidence, but not in a good way. More like…More like someone who takes up all the space in a room. Who sucks out all the air and doesn’t care that she leaves everyone else to suffocate. That bratty make-up and the way she swayed her hips and wiggled her ass around like a dumb dog. Repulsive.”

He sounded so angry.

It left you feeling oddly confused…and somehow comforted. Your first reaction was to be angry and horrified, because he followed you and stalked you all the way back to England. But the way he spoke about your mother, it made you feel so…seen. It was exactly how you saw her. So, you just stood and listened.

“You were different.” He hummed softly. “You looked so fragile compared to her. Like every step you took was a high risk. I didn’t understand it. I kept thinking how beautiful you are. Sad, sure. But beautiful. I kept asking myself why you wouldn’t see that. What a waste.”

Your heart was racing in your chest. It didn’t make any sense. Not a single word that left his mouth made any sense. His actions were a lost cause anyway, but his mind was worse. Whenever you felt like you understood him, he quickly made sure you didn’t. And now everything was different. All that was gone, right? He was a fucking stalker.

He was a murderer. You knew that since you first met him, knowingly, but at least he was open about that.

This, right here. This was a lie. A big, messed up, mean lie.

“None of this makes any sense.” You somehow choked out. “You read a text I wrote and saw a picture of me and that made you travel all the way to England? And why are we- Why am I here? Did you-“

“Let me finish.” He was now close enough to reach out a hand and touch you, but he didn’t. There he was again. The man who was so strangely adamant not to force himself on you.

Was there a reason for that? Would he ever tell you?

Your chest heaved rapidly with every breath you took. You knew there was no way out, except right through. So, you nodded.

Lord, help me.

“All I want is for someone to love me…and to love him in return.”

“I went inside and…” He glanced at the box and smiled to himself. “I know I went a little overboard, alright?” He sighed softly. “But can’t you see it? We’re made for each other.”

“You’re a stalker.” You said quietly. A part of you feared his reaction. But another part of you, the stronger one in this case, feared something else far more.

No matter what he did to you so far – he always seemed clear about it. He had never once come off as confused. Sociopathic, maybe. But he knew what he was doing. He knew that he abducted you. He knew.

But in that moment, something seemed different. And that scared the hell out of you.

He was insane. Of course he was. But his eyes were open about it.

Instead of striking you though, he smiled. A soft smile, with soft eyes. He then reached out a hand and carefully brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. You squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your back against the wall behind you.

“Don’t be scared.” He said quietly. “Let me finish.”

You kept your eyes closed, but you nodded slowly.

“You wanted someone to rescue you, didn’t you?”

That made you frown and your eyes shot open.

“But that wasn’t you. I made it out of there on my own. I found myself a job. I booked the flight and I left on my own. That wasn’t you.”

He smiled in a mixture of amusement and something else. “Are you sure?”

That gave you pause. “What?”

He sighed softly and kept his gaze fixed on his fingers, still playing with your hair.

“Didn’t you ever ask yourself why you got the job so easily? No interview needed, nothing. They just hired you. Some little girl from England with no experience, except for what she learned in school.” He spoke calmly and softly. And you felt another shiver run down your spine, but not in the same way as it did, when he kissed your neck.

That memory suddenly seemed awfully distant.

Did that even really happen?

“What are you talking about? How would you-“

He shot you a long, suggestive look, his lips twitching treacherously.

“My computer.” You said quietly.

He nodded. “I told you, darling. It’s all in the network.”

“But how did you make them hire me?”

“It wasn’t that hard. Enough money can buy you anything these days.”

You swallowed. “Alright. So, you bribed them to hire me. What else?”

He hummed, feigning thoughtfulness. “Your mother came home late the day you left, didn’t she?”

Your eyes widened. “Is she-“

“No.” He said firmly and slowly shook his head. “No. She just had another client, unexpectedly.”

You took a deep, shaky breath. You were a horrible person. Your thoughts were dark and came from a bad place.

“Good.” You whispered. He raised a brow, like he didn’t believe you. It wasn’t too hard, he could read you like a picture book.

You glanced down at the box again. “So, you were in my house. My computer, my job. What about the rest?”

He smirked and looked down for a moment. “You have something specific in mind, don’t you?”

“Didn’t you care about the blood?” You didn’t know why that triggered you so much. Almost more so than the job. Maybe he had altered your brain chemistry so much, that you now thought insane things to be normal. Twisted ways to be expected. Bad to be good.

“You think I’m scared of a little blood?” He bit his lip and slowly shook his head. “Me?”

You wanted to laugh. It was so ridiculous. Everything was. This whole situation was so sick and at the same time, he was cracking jokes?

“Did you forget that my own desires are rather twisted?” He sighed softly. “I just wanted to be close to you. To feel you. And that was all I had at the time. Except for that one time in your apartment, of course.”

You tried to swallow, but the was no saliva. You tried to breathe, but there was no air.

When you saw the driver’s license, you had assumed as much. But you had also assumed that he had broken in, while you were at work or anywhere else. Not at home.

“Where was I?” You whispered shakily.

“Asleep.” He murmured. “Like an angel.”

You closed your eyes and held onto the wall, but this time he didn’t let you back away and instead he caught you. He pressed his palms against your hips and wrapped an arm around your waist. “Careful.” He whispered.

“Did you…” You swallowed heavily. “Did you touch me?”

His calm expression turned into a frown and he pulled his head back to get a better look at your face. “No.” He said in a tone of voice that made it obvious how offended he felt.

“Forgive me!” You snapped back angrily. “How silly of me to assume!”

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, but he took another slow breath to calm himself down. Whatever he did, it was working. His expression relaxed.

“I didn’t touch you.” He said quietly. “I just watched you for a while.”

“Why did you wait so long?”

“What?”

“Why did it take you so long to…” You gestured around the room.

He hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know. I didn’t want for things to go this way. I wanted to…to meet you. To speak to you. To take you out for coffee maybe. But…I just…”

You listened to him with a patience that surprised you. Of course you wanted to be angry with him, because you knew, despite the mess in your head, that would have been the right way to react. And you were angry. But you weren’t really angry, because he broke in or followed you. Because he stole your things or pulled the strings of your life like you were some dumb puppet.

You were angry, because he never told you about it.

Because he lied.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

His head snapped up and he met your gaze with obvious disbelief. “What?”

You nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me? I had to find out by myself.”

He frowned - and for the first time ever since you had met him – he was truly speechless.

“I trusted you.” You said quietly, without taking your eyes off him. “I accepted your sick bullshit, I took everything you gave me. I forgave you every thing you did to me – to my body and to my mind. I trusted you. And you can’t trust me in return. Why not?”

“I was…”

“Afraid?”

His dark eyes widened and he pulled his head back like you had slapped him. “What? No. Not afraid.”

You scoffed and crossed your arms in front of your chest, feeling far angrier than you expected.

“You slapped me. Punched me. Threatened me. Made me feel like I’m worthless. You deprived me of food, water and goddamn privacy. You ignored me for weeks. And I still forgave you. But you couldn’t even tell me the truth about who you are.”

“Stop this.” He hissed.

“You don’t care for anything except yourself. The only reason why I’m here, is because you thought I was pleasant to look at and pliable. Did you do this more than once? Do you always do it like this? Collect your poor victims online? Is it always people like me, with no family and no one to miss them? Or are some of them more lovable than I am?”

“I’m warning you.” He gritted out between his teeth, his gaze flicking from the floor to your face and back.

“The only reason why I’m here is because you wanted to fuck and me and eventually get rid of me. If I didn’t agree willingly, you would have just taken what you wanted, just like that man-“

“Shut up!” He rushed forward and grabbed your shoulders, pressing you against the wall with, what seemed to be, all his strength. His grip was painful and his movement rough, but the sound of his voice was anything but. It wasn’t an angry exclamation. It was a man, more desperate than you had ever seen before. “Shut up! That’s not true! It’s just not true!”

Your heart skipped a beat and you swallowed thickly. This was either really good or it was fucking bad.

“Then why am I here? Why me?”

His breathing was going shallow and his eyes were wide and almost frightened. It was a sight you weren’t used to at all. He was normally either composed or angry. But never this desperate, never this vulnerable. Not even that one time in the kitchen. Even back then, he kept a semblance of composure, but in this moment, he was too far gone. He looked like he was in pain, like he was aching and you were the reason. This time, though, you couldn’t stop. You needed answers, you needed something.

“Why me?” You whispered again, fighting for air.

“Because I-“ His brows furrowed in a mixture of anger and desperation, while his gaze scanned your face restlessly. He looked like he was on the verge of exploding, of dying, of crumbling into a cloud of non-existence.

“Say it.” You whispered. “Just fucking say it.”

When he still didn’t reply and instead just kept staring at you with those wide, uncertain eyes, it suddenly became too much for you.

“You owe me the truth!” You snapped in a fit of anger. “I did everything for you! I accepted everything! And also, for God's sake, I'm not an idiot! I can tell that there is something, something you want to tell me but your just too afraid to! I don't understand what it is and why it's so hard for you, but, fuck, things are hard for me, too! Despite all this, I never tried to leave, because I didn’t want to! I stayed here, despite everything and you can’t even bring yourself to tell me why you-“

“I love you.”

“Love me unconditionally, love me to death. Love me with his last breath. And I promise you, I promise, I will love him just the same. I will die for him and I will live for him. Let him murder my soul and I will kiss his hand. Let him bathe in my blood and I will apologize for the mess. Let him be as he is, let him be dark, let him be hurtful. Let him suffocate me and I will forgive it. Just let him love me as I am.”

There was no affection in his words. None at all. He bit them out like a curse, like another man would have a degrading slur. The hiss in his voice was all too apparent and so was his anger. There was no affection. Only pain.

You couldn’t bring yourself to care though. All that you cared about was…

“What?” You breathed out.

He closed his eyes and tightened his grip on you. Killing someone wasn’t nearly as hard for him, you could tell.

For a good ten seconds, you didn’t care about the way he said it. But then you suddenly did. And you also cared about the way he couldn’t seem to look at you.

Was he bullshitting you?

Had he just said that?

Was this some kind of twisted mind game?

“No, you don’t.” You nearly spat out. “You don’t even know me.”

His eyes shot open and the look in them was all but terrifying. But again, you didn’t care. You had long made peace with death. That was probably one of the main reasons why you stayed with him and did everything he asked, why your sense of self-preservation left you so early.

You were his girl, after all.

“I don’t know you?” He spat out in return.

“No, you don’t. How would you-“

“Your favorite colors are forest green and apricot.”

He was bullshitting you. It was a mind game.

“Do you really think a stupid color-“

“You never had a boyfriend. Just one kiss. A lost bet. You had your first real crush in High School and it was your teacher. You’re afraid of sharks, but you love orcas. Your favorite food is anything Italian. You hate alcohol. Your favorite book is Wuthering Heights. You favorite season is spring. You favorite musician is that Indie woman and I keep forgetting her fucking name, but you know who I mean. With the long, dark hair. She sounds like she’s crying in every song and she keeps referring to Jim and no one knows if she’s singing about her ex-partner or the drink. Your favorite actress is Sharon Tate. You’re afraid in the dark. You like being called darling. It sounds like something someone would call his partner in a stable relationship. You love Fred and Ginger. The nineteen-twenties are your favorite decade. You prefer Fitzgerald over Hemingway. You cry when you cum. And you love it, when I kiss your neck and call you sweet names, while I’m slowly ripping your body apart. You’re too ashamed to say the word fuck, in any normal situation, but you’d say anything, anything at all, when you’re in the right mood. You wish your mother was dead and you hate yourself for thinking that. One of your biggest fears is birthing a child. You want to write a book. You’re religious. You forgive far too easily, even a sick bastard like myself. You’re-“

By the time he got to the point of mentioning your mother, you felt a fresh wave of nausea wash over you. And suddenly everything was too much. His grip was too tight, the air was too little, your heart beating far too fast.

You didn’t. You didn’t want her to die. You just wanted…just wanted to be free.

Was that the same thing?

Were you horrible like that?

You didn’t even realize you were starting to hyperventilate, not even when he loosened his grip on you and gently cupped your face in his hands.

“Hey.” He whispered. “Hey. Stop. Stop.”

Hot tears ran down your cheeks and he quickly wiped them away with his thumbs.

“Look at me. Look at me.”

He gently tipped your chin up and then wrapped his arms around you, cradling you against his chest and gently running his fingers through your hair.

“Shh.” He made softly, as he gently rocked you back and forth. “Shh. Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.” He whispered.

He was a stalker. He was sick. He was dangerous.

And he knew you.

And he loved you.

He still loved you.

He knew your flaws. And he loved you.

He loved you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and clung to him tightly, like a child, desperately seeking the comfort and warmth only he could give you. His grip on you tightened and he nuzzled the top of your head, mumbling gentle reassurances and sweet nothings against your hair.

It took forever, but eventually you calmed down.

He made you calm down.

And he loved you.

He cared about you.

And he loved you.

He knew you and he loved you.

After a while, when you finally managed to gently free yourself from his grip and slowly pull your head back, just enough to look at him, he didn’t cower. He stared right back at you, his eyes red-rimmed and his expression softer than ever before.

He was a different man.

You couldn’t tell what it was. But it was there.

It wasn’t just a better mood, a better day, a shift in his demeanor –

It was him. He was different. A different man.

But somehow, he was still the same.

The way he looked at you was the same. Only softer.

The way his eyes shone was the same. Only wiser.

He loved you.

“Do you really mean it?” You whispered, with the innocence of someone who was inexperienced in love.

He bit his lip and briefly glanced down at the floor, before he met your gaze again.

“I mean it.” He whispered back, with the softness of someone who had no idea what love even meant. His lips hovered right above your own and suddenly he didn't seem so bitter any more. "I love you." He whispered against your lips. "I do."

For you, he seemed willing to try.

He would do anything, wouldn’t he? Because you would.

Maybe he would even love you to death.

“Let him love me.”

He loved you.

_______________________________

Tag list 1:

@mitsuki-dreamfree @kpopsmutty69 @heroine-chique @vkeyy @mizuwki @blu-brrys @z0mbi345 @yourpointbreak @ayieayee @freddyzeppsworld @lola11111111 @indifitel6661 @salesmanlover08 @laurenbenoit70 @lalalaa2210 @lila-marshal @auspicious-lilana @0-aubrie0 @lovelyaegyo @theredvelvetbitch @violentbluess @muriels-lover @dorayakissu @eviebuggg @muchwita @ririgy @strxlemon @obsessedwthdilfs @kiwilov3 @misty-q @rlmiku

Author's note:

The most important things first:

Thanks to the lovely @thelastofkryze for the plot twist, because pookie came up with the stalking thing!

And thanks to the wonderful @muchwita for being a grand inspiration of the toxic love part in the letter ("Let others call him (...) love me conveniently, passively.")

Our man's being soft for a reason, guys!

I love you all! 🤍

[deadsetobsessions]

He’s existed for an eternity. He will exist for longer than that. Danny Fenton’s ruled the Zone longer than he’s been fully alive, by a long shot. Still half alive.

Immortal. He can’t die- not when he’s already half dead- and his age stays and stays stagnated. Un-aging. True immortality, unlike the claims of those newborn gods who borrow power from a deeper force than even they could comprehend.

A god dies when there are none left to venerate them. Danny dies when death ceases to be reality, which in itself is death…

It’s easy, once his mortal life had faded far away. He slips into roles- protection, of course, never forgotten- and traipses around to live in universes even as he kills them by simply existing. One day, a little fairy catches his eyes. It fluttered about meaninglessly, gathering dew drops and sap. It taught him two lessons.

“Why do you work yourself so?” Death had asked the little fairy.

The little fairy, only seeing the facade of a placid young boy that Death had donned to imitate the days where he was fully alive, had answered fearlessly. “I enjoy the work! My court needs those supplies, and I’m happy being able to help while doing something I love.”

“Oh.” Danny remembered being like that once. It was why his essence thrummed with Protection, even in Death. He had forgotten, even as a halfa, how to be alive. He knew how to be living, but he’d forgotten how to be alive.

Still, the boy had another question.

“Are you not afraid of me?” He’d met people like these before, on the rare occasions he personally guided souls, and they were unflinching in his presence.

“No, you are just a child. Say… won’t you tell me your name?”

“Danny,” Death answered truthfully. Death doesn’t like to lie. “Danny Fenton.”

“Danny-” the little fae freezes, malicious grin falling from its face as it trembled like the blades of grass it stole dew from. “No- no, no! Why- why can’t I take your name?!”

“I am also known as Death,” Danny admitted, watching as the fairy’s magic imploded on itself. One could not own death. He learns a lesson that day too. If he disguises himself, if death is disguised as harmlessness, as just ‘one more’, as an object of greed, those living would happily run towards Death himself.

As the little buzzing fae backed away, the flowers on its extremities withered. Danny caught its wrist before it could dart away.

“Tell the ruler of your court to come,” Danny said gently, ectoplasm easing away from the trembling little thing.

“Yes, yes, please, I will.” Danny released the fluttering thing and bid it leave.

----

"That's how you met Oberon?"

Danny laughed, plucking the little Robin from a jump and shadowing to the ledge two buildings ahead.

"Not so, little sparrow. That was how I met Tatiana."

"The queen?!"

"The queen. Remember this, if nothing else, when you play with Royalty, there is very little they wouldn't stoop to in order to ensure their wants."

"Okay. Does that include you too?"

See? Danny knew the little sparrow was smart, somewhere beneath that fanboy-driven dumbassery.

"Yes."

"Soooo... what do you want, Danny?"

"To know what it is to live again. Death tends to be cold, you see."

"...Can I help?"

A flash of fangs, a slow, meaningful smile. "You are already helping, little sparrow. Even your Bats are helping. I have not felt joy in centuries."

"Oh."

Robin's comms buzzed. "Ask him about how he met Oberon, Timsy!" Jason's voice came through loud and clear to Danny.

"Oberon?" Danny cut in, enjoying the vibrant activity his chosen nightlife observed. "Oh, I beat him at poker. Actually, I own a quarter of his palace."

[redwinelew]

can I request a smau for lewis hamilton where he's secretly dating his new teammate leclerc's sister and a mistake of instagram story tells everyone they're not just flirting on socials but are actually a couple?

thanks<3

baby, i like flirting! | lewis hamilton

social media au. twin sister leclerc!reader

summary as requested!

face claim daisy edgar-jones

song after midnight by chappell roan

warnings age gap (28 x 40), a bit suggestive on some parts

author's note figured now would be a good time to post this. also i made reader charles' twin since daisy is close to his age i hope that's alright with u anon. sorry this is shorter than what i usually write i hope u like this 33

english is not my first language. all pictures taken from pinterest, instagram and twitter. credit to owners.

masterlist | request info | requests are OPEN!

ynleclerc just made a post!

♬ Naked In Manhattan • Chappell Roan

liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt and 6,727 others

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ynleclerc random 2024 photo dump 💋

tagged charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, f1, danielricciardo, yukitsunoda0511

user who do i need to fight to date charles sister

charles_leclerc user Me obviously

user charles_leclerc my bad bruh 😭🫡

user user LMFAO

user still can't believe vcarb sponsored y/n to come to a race instead of her brother's own team 😭😭

ynleclerc user well does ferrari have danny ric?? and yuki?? no i don't think so

user ynleclerc y/n leclerc aka #1 daniel ricciardo and yuki tsunoda stan

ynleclerc user exactly exactly

user the leclerc genes are insane bro

user user face cards never decline fr

user the best siblings duo ever i don't make the rules

user CHAPPELL ROAN???? you are so real for this

ynleclerc user 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

user she is who i want to be when i grow up

user the coolest girl ever

lewishamilton That skirt looks gorgeous on you

ynleclerc lewishamilton what's underneath is ever better

user ynleclerc WOAH??????

user ynleclerc EXCUSE ME

lewishamilton ynleclerc I know

user lewishamilton AYO??

user lewishamilton SIR??????

user lewishamilton "I know" EHAT DOES THAT MEAN

user lewishamilton grandpa still got some game damn

user lewishamilton something's in the air in maranello fr ain't no way lewis is flirting with charles sister PUBLICLY

messages (y/n's pov)

ynleclerc just added to their stories!

lewishamilton just added to their stories!

twitter!

messages (y/n's pov)

ynleclerc just made a post!

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, doechii and 16,044 others

ynleclerc well since the secret is out...... here's some pics from the archives

ps lewis is still alive dw charles is not gonna kill ferrari's only hope at wcc this year

tagged lewishamilton

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user I KNEW ITTTT

user i guess now we know why y/n kept hanging out at merc garage last year 😭😭

user user she was also in vcarb's garage??

user user i mean yeah but that was sponsored. during other gps she's always seen hanging out in merc garage but ppl thought it's only bcs she's friends with carmen

user the last pic...... i would do the same tbh

ynleclerc user alex took the pic 😚😚 i just couldn't resist

user and the crowd is in shock????

alexandrasaintmleux it's been so hard keeping this a secret haha so happy for you two ❤️❤️

charles_leclerc alexandrasaintmleux I still can't believe that you knew first before I do

ynleclerc charles_leclerc she's my favorite so i love her more

charles_leclerc ynleclerc WE SHARED A WOMB!!!!!

ynleclerc charles_leclerc and i'm pretty sure you almost ate me so consider this a payback

lewishamilton just made a post!

liked by zhouguanyu24, calliewilson_ and 4,728,948 others.

lewishamilton Mi amor ❤️

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ynleclerc baby that's spanish 😭😭 mon amour is french

charles_leclerc ynleclerc He doesn't even know the difference? This is the man you claimed to love?

ynleclerc charles_leclerc he's trying ok give him a break 😭😭

charles_leclerc If you break her heart I will sabotage your car. Mark my words, Lewis

ynleclerc charles_leclerc ARE YOU INSANE 😭😭

user charles_leclerc we love a protective brother

user user i can't take the threat seriously i'm afraid lmfao 😭😭

lewishamilton charles_leclerc I deserve it

scuderiaferrari charles_leclerc Please don't

francolapinto congratulations!

user can't believe all of this started bcs of some instagram stories

user user how long do u figure they would keep this a secret if that accident didn't happen 😭😭

user user they're gonna have to be public eventually. can't hide from charles forever

user i wonder how family dinners will be from now on

user user chaotic most definitely

user user thinking about charles giving lewis the talk has me dying

user oh to be charles leclerc's sister and date lewis hamilton

user user living the dream fr

user when i said i want 1644 dramas in 2025 this is NOT what i meant 😭😭

[pacofprunes]

SQUID GAME CHARACTERS KINKS HEADCANONS

CONTAINS — namgyu x reader, thanos x reader, daeho x reader, semi x reader, myungi x reader

WARNINGS — (fem reader) 18+ content minors dni

masterlist

NAMGYU / PLAYER 124 — dacryphilia, hand over your mouth

dacryphilia — loves the sight of your tears from how well he’s pleasing you. he definitely teases you and will make fun of you for it, but he loves it, don’t worry. after the first time he makes you cry, he decides that anytime you two have sex, he has to make you cry. sometimes he’s a little rougher to obtain this. weather that be by pinching your nipples or biting your neck a little too hard, it doesn’t matter, he has to see those pretty tears.

the sight of his hand over your mouth also just gets him going. it makes him feel like he’s got some sort of power over you and he’s living for it. you just look so pretty as your tears slide over his palm, he can’t help himself.

THANOS / PLAYER 230 / CHOI SU-BONG — chemsex

not really an actual term, but hes a druggie and what’s better than doing drugs while having sex with you? and i don’t just mean popping a quick pill in his mouth, nah. doing lines of coke all over you. snorting that shit off your neck, off your tits, off your ass, everywhere. loves blowing the smoke from his fruity vape right onto your clit and if he’s got a condom on, he’ll lay down on his side and have you snort a line of coke right off of his dick. it’s certainly not safe, but if he’s super high out of his mind, he’s just gonna let you snort the coke off of his dick raw. no condom. loves the feeling of your nose rubbing lightly against his dick and the feeling of the air from your nose. got him cumming without really even touching him that much.

for sure takes a hit of his vape before going into kiss you and then blowing it all into your mouth.

“you’re thanos’s girl, yeah? hah, got two of my favorite things together. drugs and your pretty pretty pussy.”

KANG DAEHO — sitophilia, cockwarming

sitophilia — not into all foods, more specifically, whip cream. god, licking it off your perky nipples and licking it off right above your clit and then dragging his tongue down all the way through your folds? he’s already cumming. which on another note, he loves eating you out. might accidentally overstimulate you if he gets super into it.

he also lovessss cockwarming. just pushing into you, bottoming out completely and being cuddled up close to you, your bodies warmth being shared between each other makes his cock twitch. he loves feeling your warm walls melt and tighten around him every so often. everytime you move to get comfortable, you run the risk of him cumming after only a few seconds. the whole situation gets him painfully hard. there’s times where he can fall asleep with you like that. there’s even been times where you’ll straddle his lap, keeping his dick warm while you two sit in a chair at your dinner table and you’re sitting on his lap and you feed each other. everytime you two laugh at a joke or the goofiness of the situation, it’s causes him to thrust up in you or you to bounce on him, immediately causing him to grip onto your waist and press his forehead to your chest as he takes choked up shaky breaths trying to compose himself. sometimes he can last a long time just staying still, content with letting you just cockwarm him. and other times? he’s a begging mess and just can’t hold on any longer.

“baby, i don’t think i can stay still much longer. let me move, please?”

SE-MI / PLAYER 380 — manhandling, orgasm denial, overstimulation, voyeurism

she likes knowing that your pleasure is in her hands. if you want to cum, it’s not your choice, it’s hers. loves pulling her tongue away from your clit right when she can tell you’re about to squirt all over her face. loves seeing you beg for her to let you cum, and eventually she’ll give in. if she’s feeling a little mean, after she finally lets you cum, she’ll keep her tongue attached to your pussy. she’ll keep on sucking it over and over and she won’t stop until you’re crying out.

“what? i thought you said you wanted to cum, baby.”

voyeurism— sometimes when she pulls away when you were oh so close to cumming, she has you make yourself finish. she watches you finger yourself and rub circles into your clit while listening to your sweet moans. she loves it when you can’t do it yourself and you have to beg her to help you.

she also loves manhandling you. doesn’t have to be extreme either. just holding you down by your hips or her putting you into any position she desires gets her going. she just loves knowing she has all the power and the control over you.

MYUNGI / PLAYER 333 / MG COIN ★ — rough sex, vanilla

i don’t think he’s into anything too crazy. i think he’s going to have very calm more organized and kept together thrusts while he has a nice grip on your hips, but then there’s other times where he’s in a shitty mood or just feeling different and his thrusts are a lot sloppier and a lot harder. his grip on your hips is tighter, almost digging his fingers into you. i also think hes into quickies as well. maybe not so much into them, but he does have quickies quite often with you. sometimes he has fun with it, sometimes it’s just because he has to get his dick wet. i think he’s generally a more tame guy, but that doesn’t make the sex with him bad at all. he knows what he’s doing, and he’s the best at it.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Want You

Summary: It is unfathomable that he might want her, but it seems like there's nothing more he wants than her

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 5010 (woahhh 😦😦😦)

Warnings: tiniest bit of angst? idk i dont think theres any ngst but there is a bit of fluff hehe, and a bit too much childhood memories but eh we love it, right?

A/n: teehee i love this 🤭🥹 based on this request 😋

ANYWAYS, ENJOYYYY!!!🥳🥳🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

For as long as Y/n could remember, she had been fascinated with the shadowsinger.

Grabbing at his small shadows with her chubby hands, watching him sit in a corner as Rhys and Cassian bickered over which seat they wanted at the table, peering curiously as he made snowballs after snowballs to hit her older brother.

She had been fascinated, and it was very clear from day one.

Or atleast, she thought it was.

Even thinking about her actions made her cringe at how puppy-like she had been in following the spymaster around. Like the time she had forced him to tell her what the shadows spoke of late one night.

Y/n was a fairly small kid. Even compared to other five year olds, she was inches shorter than other kids. Being almost five years younger than her older brother, she barely reached his shoulders. He was also too tall for his age, being half high fae came with such advantages.

Y/n had knocked on Azriel’s bedroom door after he had retired early, claiming he had a headache from Rhys and Cassian’s foolish antics, but Y/n figured he was lying, since he did not ask mama for medicine. After all, he should have asked for at least a massage if he was in pain, no?

He had opened the door, scowling, but when he found no one outside, he glanced down in surprise at the little girl who grinned at him.

"Y/n?"

She had pushed her way in through the small space between his legs and the doorframe, dragging her big stuffed bear- Mister Bear- in behind her.

"What are you doing?" She questioned, raising onto her tippy toes and peering at the books discarded on his table.

Azriel followed her halfway before turning and getting onto his bed. "I was trying to sleep."

Y/n’s brows furrowed. "Why?"

"Because I have a headache."

"But you didn’t ask mama for medicine."

His brows furrowed. "I don’t need medicine."

"Why not?"

He sighed. "Because I am a big boy, and I am strong."

Y/n pouted. "But you should ask mama for medicine, it is good for you."

He shook his head. "I don’t want that."

Y/n huffed at his silliness, but then tugged her stuffed bear upright and clutched it to her chest as she moved closer to the bed. It was hard trying to get on without help, so she pushed mister Bear onto the mattress, then splayed her hands wide onto the surface and lifted one leg. Bent at the knees, she put it as high as it would go before trying to pull herself up onto the bed.

"What are you doing?"

Y/n didn’t respond, simply wiggling her way on the bed, breathing heavily. But she had a mission, and she was focused on that. She didn’t have time for breathlessness. She grabbed mister Bear and dragged him over to Azriel, placing him next to the confused boy.

"Whenever I’m sick, mama says to cuddle. And because I will be sleeping with mama, you can have mister Bear instead."

Azriel’s brows furrowed. "I’m not sick."

Y/n rolled her eyes and flopped down on the bed, mister Bear between the two, as if he were their baby. "Whatever." She looked up at the ceiling, then glanced back at Azriel, an excited smile on her face. "Your shadows can talk right?"

Confusion still marred his face, a hint of curiosity in his eyes as he nodded.

"Then they can tell you stories too, right?" He remained silent, seemingly contemplating. But Y/n continued, almost complaining, ignoring his lack of speech. "I keep asking mama to tell me stories, but she says she doesn’t know more. She says she has told me all the stories she knew, and now she doesn’t have any more."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Y/n giggled. "So your shadows can tell me stories, silly."

Azriel sighed. "They can’t tell stories to you."

She pouted. "Why not? Do they not like me?"

"No, they like you. But they can’t speak, like you and I."

"Then how do you understand them if they don’t speak?"

He paused. "They can talk to me, but they don’t speak loudly. Think of it as Rhys talking to you without speaking, with his mind."

Y/n huffed dramatically. "At least do they tell you stories before sleeping?"

He shook his head quietly, and Y/n pushed to her feet, wobbling on the soft mattress that had taken Azriel over months to get accustomed to. Y/n didn’t understand why Azriel kept sleeping on the floor despite having such a good bed. After all, why would he want to sleep on the cold floor when he had a bed?

"I am going to mama then. Don’t bother mister bear too much, okay?" He nodded, and watched Y/n get off the mattress with great difficulty before skipping over to the door and leaving. "Night, Azzie!"

Or the time she had chosen to play with Azriel, making Rhysand sulk for over a week.

"She is my sister!"

Azriel sat quietly on the ground and watched amidst Y/n’s dolls and kitchen toys, a pink kettle and small cups littering the space around his legs.

"Rhys, that is unfair. You didn’t want to play with Y/n before, so you can’t get mad now." Their mother tried to step in, her voice gentle. Despite that, Y/n glared defiantly at her older brother, chin lifted in a way she had so often seen her father stare down at his people.

"But she is my sister! I want to play now, come Y/n."

She stuck a tongue out. "I don’t want to play with you. You are mean."

"No I’m not!"

"You pull my hair."

"I don’t!" He very nearly whined, looking up at their mother with pleading eyes. She simply shrugged, because he did, in fact, pull Y/n’s hair sometimes.

When he got no help from his mother, he abruptly stepped forward and grabbed Y/n’s small hand, tugging her away from Azriel. "You can’t play with him, you are my baby sister."

Instantly, tears began pooling in Y/n’s eyes, and she jerked back, trying not to skid across the ground. "I don’t like you Rhysie! Go away!"

Rhys persisted, fury and jealousy that his sister chose his friend over him flashing over his face.

Mama had to step in, then.

"Rhys, let go right this moment!" Her stern voice echoed in the room, and even Azriel pushed to his feet, watching the scene unfold warily.

Rhys’s eyes clouded with angry tears as he glared up at mama, then Y/n, and dropped her hand. Almost pushed it away from him, and then turned and stomped out. Y/n watched him go, scowling at his back until he was out of sight, and then she wiped her tears and turned back to Azriel, smiling. Mama watched Rhys too, and then she turned to Azriel and offered him a gentle tilt of her lips, patted his head, reassured him that Rhys would come around, and then left them to play.

Later, Y/n would feel bad about refusing to play with her brother when at dinner he chose to sit on the chair farthest from Y/n. When he glared and hissed at Azriel to sit in Rhys’s place next to Y/n. He used to throw tantrums if anyone else sat next to her, because he had claimed that particular chair as his, but now he refused to even look at her as he angrily scarfed down his rice.

Y/n had turned to look at her mama in concern, who only told her to give him time. She had tried to, but after an hour, she had gotten bored and wandered into Rhys’s room, ready to play before bed.

Which was a wrong decision, as Rhys mocked and taunted her, then told her to go play with Azriel instead.

Even the next day, when Y/n got dressed in her thickest jacket to go play in the snow with her brother as their weekly tradition, she found him playing with other kids instead. He ignored her most of the time, even when she accepted that he wasn’t going to play with her and settled down on the porch, hands under her chin, watching sadly as he laughed and giggled with other kids.

Eventually, as the week had come to an end, he had gone back to his own seat. Y/n had to apologise, had even begged mama to let her bake Rhys’s favourite cookies with her as a peace offering, for Rhys to give her a smile.

Mama had to sit all the boys down from then on and make them agree to play together with Y/n, and that Rhys being her brother did not mean she could not play with others. It had taken a lot to get Rhys to agree, and when he nodded, he had still grumbled and glared.

She had been lost in thought the entire day, mainly after she had walked into the kitchen and found Azriel staring at her like he had been caught stealing cookies. He had left quickly after that, mumbling something about meetings and Rhys. Memories aside, as Y/n lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling almost three centuries later now, she couldn’t figure out why she felt so drawn to Azriel.

Sure, she had been a kid, and most kids liked other kids. But even as she grew up, that sense of friendship and companionship she felt with Azriel grew, morphing into something deeper, something more.

Sure, it could be infatuation, but this felt like it was so much more than that, something purer, something more emotional.

It was as if every time she saw him, her bones shifted, her ribs expanded, wishing to be closer to him. It was like his very soul kept tugging at her.

She had an inkling of what this was, but it was just that. An inkling.

Because she had not felt that crack, that snap, that mama had used to describe her own mating bond. She had said it felt like a sudden appearance of a new limb she didn’t know existed, the sudden breath of air after spending years asphyxiated.

No, Y/n had not yet felt any feeling like that, and it left her confused and saddened everyday. If anything, all she felt when seeing Azriel resembled the feeling of soft, warm sunlight on her skin, the slow warming of her freezing limbs after sitting in front of a bonfire.

What she felt was not quick, a sudden realisation. It was a soft, gentle awakening over the years.

And she could not wait to feel everything the stories had described.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

The past few weeks had been… not fun, to put it in a nice way.

Y/n could not find Azriel anywhere. Everywhere she went, all she encountered was his fading, lingering scent. Not him though. It was as if he was actively trying to avoid her.

In the mornings, she’d go to the training ring, and he’d be absent. The library, his study, the whole house of wind.

He was gone.

Even Rhysand didn’t know where he was. And if he wasn’t on any mission, where was he?

Mor didn’t know, neither did Amren. Cassian was Y/n’s last option.

She found him in the kitchen, chopping a small loaf of bread into thick slices. He only glanced up when Y/n scuffed her boot against the ground.

"Hey, Y/n, what’s up?"

She sighed, walking closer and leaning against the kitchen counter. "Do you know where Az is?"

Instantly, his shoulders bunched up. The movement was almost imperceptible, but Y/n clocked it.

"No, I haven’t. I’ve been looking for him myself." He mumbled, and Y/n knew he was being sincere. But the slight hesitation in his eyes, the small pause before he spoke, told Y/n that he knew something, if not his location.

"Is there a reason you think he’s gone off somewhere?"

He didn’t meet her eyes. "Uh- no."

"Cassian."

"Y/n."

"It’s a bad thing to lie."

"I’m not-"

"Mama used to say you were the nicest of us all."

He paused, glancing up at her skeptically. "Lying is bad."

Her lips quirked up. "Oh, so you know."

He rolled his eyes. "Sod off."

A silence that surrounded the two sobered Y/n up.

"Cass, I need to know what happened." A beat. "Please."

He looked away. "He made me swear not to tell."

"Is he mad at me? Is that why he’s left without telling anyone?"

He shook his head. "The complete opposite, if I’m being honest. He’s not mad at you."

"Then what is it, Cass?"

He sighed. "Y/n… I know I shouldn’t tell you, but…"

"But?"

"But I know Az would likely never say, and just wallow in his own head. I’m just telling you for his and your good, right?" Y/n could see the war waging in her friend’s head, and she felt bad for forcing him, but Y/n couldn’t stand going in circles.

"Yes, Cassian, now will you tell me?" It took a lot of effort to hide her frustration, but she somehow did it, watching him expectantly.

"He said you’re mates-"

Her ears began ringing the longer she stood there, eyes seeing but not watching as Cassian stopped speaking.

Her mind went back to a few days ago, the day since Azriel began avoiding her.

He felt it then. That morning.

Oh.

No wonder he left.

"So he found out?" Y/n breathed, more to herself than him, eyes unfocused.

"You- you knew?!"

"I had an inkling." She admitted.

Cassian nodded quietly, then pointed the knife in his hand at Y/n. "You better not throw me to the wolves if you decide to confront him."

Y/n offered him a weak smile in response. "No promises." She paused, searching for a good enough excuse to leave. "Thank you, Cassian. I would have lost my mind had you not told me."

He shrugged, turning away to grab an apple. "I’m nice like that."

He was, because he acted like he didn’t notice the way Y/n kept shifting on her feet, glancing at the door, wishing she could leave. He simply turned away, as if he was dismissing her and not her wanting to get out of there.

She gladly took the opening and hurried out, making her way up the stairs and back into her bedroom. Closing the door with a quiet thud, she walked over to the bed and settled on the edge, clutching the soft fabric of the covers under her palms.

In the quiet safety of her bedroom, she let herself wallow a bit.

Did he not want the bond?

I mean, who’d fault him.

He probably wanted someone nice, someone soft. And Y/n was none of that. She was all hard edges, kicking taunts and screaming boldness.

She was loud. She was a smartass and she was shameless when it came to being selfish. While Azriel… he liked to help people, his past making him want to do more good in order to make himself feel worthy.

She knew what people saw when they looked at her, and it was not pretty. At least, to her it was not.

She didn’t want to be the way she was. She wished she was sweet, wished she offered soft smiles instead of snarls and smirks. Knew that Azriel, if given the choice, would pick anyone else over her.

The bond clicking for him and eliciting such a response was to be expected. After all, why would he want her? Not to mention, if he did want to see where this path led him, her brother would go feral.

She sighed, leaning back on her hands and staring up at the ceiling.

But did all of that give him a right to try and keep her in the dark?

Sure, it had barely been a month, and maybe he was going to tell her about the bond, maybe he just needed time to settle his thoughts and come to terms with having her as his mate, having lost his chance to have someone he truly wanted as his mate. But she deserved to know, did she not?

He should have come to her first. Instead of going away for weeks on end, he could have come to her, told her to her face that he didn’t want the bond. She would have appreciated that more than… than whatever this was.

But now no one can change the past, or predict the sequence of events to come. It would be of no use to sit and wish for things. The only option Y/n let herself come onto was waiting for him to come home, and then confront him.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

It took two more days for Y/n to catch a stronger whiff of his scent in the house of wind.

Not his lingering scent that had begun to fade as days went on, but one that told her he had been in the exact sitting room she stood in, and he had been there very recently.

It took her barely ten more minutes to find him in the training ring, pummeling a dummy, shirtless and sweaty.

Poor thing.

The dummy looked ready to split at the seams if he didn’t stop, and so she stepped in, clearing her throat.

"Long day?"

He stilled, shoulders heaving. But didn’t turn.

The setting sun cast long shadows over the sand pit, his already large figure looking larger than ever.

"Something like that."

She hummed, crossing her arms and leaning against the archway. "Heard tea helps."

"Not in the mood for it."

A shadow slithered across the ground towards Y/n, but it froze just a moment before touching her boots. Looking up told her that Azrie had turned halfway, his eyes fixed on the rogue little thing.

"What are you in the mood for, then?"

Finally, he lifted his gaze to meet hers, the hazel set ablaze. "To be left alone."

The lazy smile she had fixed on her face faded, and she straightened, tightening her gloves as nonchalantly as she could.

She did not miss the way her chest sang at the way his eyes followed her movements, nor did she miss the barely there intake of breath as she stepped into the ring. "Too bad, I am in the mood for a tussle."

"I’m not fighting you."

"But I will be fighting you."

His brows furrowed. "Same thing."

"No."

He released a breath, sounding oh so exasperated, like he hadn’t tested her patience for a month straight. "Y/n, I really am in no mood to-"

"Well too-" punch "-freaking-" punch "-bad."

She paused, her chest expanding to pull in enough air for the next round of punches she flexed her finger for. He watched her warily, hunched over slightly as he held his bare abs.

He’s half naked.

Not my problem.

Your fantasy, though.

She shook her head, dislodging the thought along with stray strands of hair sticking to her skin as he straightened, his eyes concerned.

"Y/n, what-"

She didn’t let him get another word in before she threw another punch towards his abdomen. This time, he had enough time and instincts to shoot his hand out and hold her fist away from him.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Her eyes narrowed in on him, the pit of anger in her chest bubbling over, beginning to poison her veins. "What is wrong with me? Me, Azriel?"

He had the decency to look chagrined as he dropped her fist and took a step back, his eyes searing hers.

"I’ll tell you what’s wrong." She mused, her teeth gritted as she took a step to mirror him. Another punch was flying through the air before she could stop herself, snapping his face to the side.

"Y/n, that’s enough-"

Another punch, this time at his pectorals and finally, a tether seemed to snap in him.

His arm came up to intercept her next hit, his eyes alight with fury, and he pushed her off of him, lips twisting in a sneer. "What has gotten into you? Why are you acting like a bloodlusting animal?"

A pang echoed through her chest at his words, her eyes narrowing. "Is that what you think of me? An animal?"

Azriel’s brows furrowed. "What- no-"

Y/n launched herself on him, teeth bared as a guttural snarl ripped through her throat. Before her nails could make contact with his heaving shoulders, though, he had her pinned to the ground, sand clouding the air around them.

For a long moment, she struggled against him, a strangled sound, almost an angry sob, spilling from her mouth. But when the weight on her refused to budge, she stopped, panting heavily as she glared up at him.

Azriel’s gaze remained unwavering as he bore down on Y/n, confusion and fury alike rippling off of him.

"Now, will you tell me like a normal freaking person what bit you, or am I going to have to chain you like a beast and get your brother?"

She scoffed, pushing against his hold, however futile her efforts were. It gave her a sense of satisfaction at the low grunt he let out and that was all that mattered. "Of course, I am, after all, a beast to be chained."

He scowled. "Y/n you need to stop taking everything I say in the wrong meaning. Stop putting words in my mouth."

"Well, if you put words in your own mouth, I wouldn't have to. But you seem to have a talent of hiding away for days on end instead of talking things out."

His brows furrowed. "Is that what this is about? Me going away for barely a month?"

Her brows rose, incredulity taking over the rage that had been blazing through her not a moment ago. "No, Azriel, this is about you tucking tail and fleeing when you really should have talked to me."

Understanding dawned on his features, the shadows cast by the almost set sun making the difference starker. "Cassian told you."

"No one told me sh- anything, Azriel." She huffed, rolling her eyes. "Not even you." Y/n could tell Azriel was beginning to lose his patience, frustration evident in the set of his shoulders, so she hurried to add. "I figured it out myself."

His jaw tightened, a muscle feathering as he pushed himself off her into a kneeling position, head turned away from her.

She scrambled to follow, staring at him accusingly. "What? Nothing to say?"

"Y/n, I don't know-" He sounded so helpless, so lost, that all fight drained out of Y/n. She hadn’t expected him to tell her he wanted her, or even give a good enough excuse as to why he didn't even talk to her about it. She'd already figured he didn't want her or the bond, and she wouldn't have cared. She wasn't going to force herself upon him. But him sounding so dejected, so… heartbroken, it broke something in her too.

"I don't want the bond, Az. But you could have told me…" She trailed off, swallowing when he turned to her, his eyes wide.

"You- you don't?" His voice broke towards the end. Y/n stared at him, wondering if she was misunderstanding the emotions on his face for desperation instead of relief, then shrugged coolly, trying to not let her feelings show, like she always did in emotional situations.

"I mean, if you don't want it, I don't want it. I mean, I get it, why would you want it anyway-"

"Y/n I- I want it."

Her brows rose. "Huh?"

"I do, I really do."

She raised an unimpressed brow. "You really do?"

He scowled. "Yes, Y/n."

"Then why’d you run off?"

"I- I was scared."

She scoffed, undeniable hope beginning to take root in her heart. "Of me?"

"No!" He looked horrified she had even uttered such atrocious words, and slowly, Y/n began to humour the possibility that he really was not playing a sick prank on her. "I- I thought you wouldn’ want it."

She nodded sagely. "And running away instead of just asking me about it gave you answers you needed. Or maybe it gave me a change of mind and made me suddenly like you a lot, right?"

He huffed, looking down at his lap. "You can stop now."

"Of course, I’m too loud for you, right?"

He released a breath, pushing to his feet and dusting off his pants. "I know what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work."

"I am doing nothing but stating what you’re thinking."

He turned to her, looking thoroughly unamused as he extended an arm. "Would you like to sit here and continue bullying me into saying something I don’t want to say, or are you going to come with me and break the news to your brother?"

"I think I’m fine here, thank you." She mused, leaning back on her hands as she grinned up at him.

He remained emotionless, though the corner of his lips ticked up. "Come on, up."

She pouted. "No."

He did not move, and neither did she. Eventually, he gave up and crouched next to her, hands hanging from his knees. "Why not?"

"It’s your job to convince him." She shrugged.

He reached out, and Y/n forced herself to sit still, trying not to move even an inch in case he stopped whatever it was he was doing. She held still as he grabbed a stray strand of her hair between his thumb and index finger, rubbing it. His whole being seemed to be focused on that act, the texture of the strands.

A cool breeze tickled the nape of her neck, sending shivers down her spine and her hair swaying. It seemed to break him out of his reverie, and he lifted his gaze to meet her eyes, molten and soft.

"Y/n, I mean it. I want this, you. Have for a long time."

"How long?" She mumbled, not willing to just accept the confession. But that’s just how she was. And he knew that, and the fact that he still wanted her was beyond her.

This time, his smile grew as he leaned in, his hand dropping her hair and grabbing her jaw instead. "Over a century, if my maths is correct."

She rolled her eyes. "And to think all this drama could have been avoided if you had just talked."

He raised a brow, poking her arm with the hand that wasn’t occupied with holding her face. "It could also have been avoided had you said something."

She lifted her chin. "Why should I? I’m a female."

He snorted, the sound of incredulity so at odds with the gentle swipe of his thumb on her cheek. "So?"

"So, I’m not the one who should make the first move. You should, and yet I had to come here and ask you to-"

"Punch and bully me, you mean."

She rolled her eyes again, moving to push the hand that still poked her arm away. "Whatever I do it always seems like bullying to you."

He said nothing, just tugged her face closer and placed his lips at her forehead.

Blood surged to her neck and face, hot and quick, as he pulled back to smile at her. He gently grabbed her hand and pulled her up so she stood toe to toe with him, gazing down at her with emotions she had never seen in him before.

At least, not for her.

She didn’t know what to do with herself under that gaze. Was her hand placement too awkward? Was her head lifted too high? Was she looking at the right feature on his face?

She could not even begin to let herself think about his words.

Stop, it’s not that serious.

I want this. Want you.

For over a century.

It was unbelievable, so inconceivable, that Y/n could not even begin to process the fact that he did actually reciprocate her feelings, and it was not just because of a sacred bond.

She needed at least days to get herself to take in the information he had dumped on her, and now she understood why he had run off. Especially now that the pull on her ribs was stronger, firmer.

He rested his forehead against hers, blissfully unaware of the turmoil inside Y/n, caressing the skin on her face softly before sighing, the rising moon highlighting the apples of his cheeks and the slight tint of red.

"I’ve been so scared to say anything, thinking you wouldn’t like me back ro Rhys would bite my head off, but now I can say we’re mates and he wouldn’t do anything."

Y/n giggled. "He might still beat you to a pulp."

He chuckled, shaking his head and pulling Y/n into his chest. "Well, getting beat up is still better than being barred from loving you."

Her heart did a silly little jump, but she pulled away to point a finger at him, frowning. "Your flowery words will do nothing to get you out of punishment."

His brows rose in question. "Punishment? For what?"

She turned away. "For making me lose my mind for a month straight, thinking you didn’t want me."

He snorted. "Have you seen you? No male would reject you, not even someone who’s lost his mind."

 She smiled secretly as she proceeded to walk down the stairs, disbelief at how things had turned out and his quiet steps following behind with a sigh. "You’re saying I belong in an asylum with a mental-"

"Y/n-"

"Oh I’ll just shut up then-"

"Y/n."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[kaiser1ns]

#. A KISS TO PROVE IT

featuring 𝗶𝘁𝗼𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝘀𝗮𝗲 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

fluff + slight suggestive. for him kissing wasn't special, but his actions told you otherwise.

You are thirteen. A teenager—well, at least at the start of teenage life. Watching movies where the main characters share their first kiss has become fascinating. What’s so special about kissing, anyway? Do you just walk up to a random boy and kiss him, or do you tell the friend sitting next to you that you want to try it?

"Sae, do you know anything about kissing?" you ask, glancing at him as he remains glued to the TV, watching yet another football game.

"Huh? You mean that disgusting thing adults do when they love each other?"

Love each other? The thought rolls around your mind. Do you really have to love someone to kiss them?

“Well, I think it’s romantic,” you counter.

He finally looks at you, leaning slightly closer. “What’s so romantic about swapping germs with someone else?”

Typical boy—he doesn’t get it.

But what if? What if you kissed someone you really, really liked? What if he was the boy sitting next to you, holding your hand like he is now, his curious gaze waiting for an answer? Would it still be disgusting? Or would it be... something else?

“When a boy and a girl fall in love, they do more than just hold hands or visit each other’s houses,” you murmur, your cheeks heating under his stare.

At your words, Sae lets go of your hand, and you suddenly wish you hadn’t said anything, but then he speaks.

"Do you want to try?” he asks but you don’t answer. You can’t. Your heart is pounding, but he leans in before and... It’s quick, awkward, and ends almost before it begins—a brush of lips that leaves your mind with questions.

“That’s it?” he asks, skeptic and unimpressed by the mere act of kissing. You’re stunned silent, your lips tingling. But Sae, who is never satisfied, leans in again. “Let me prove it—kissing is gross.”

This time, it’s slower, more deliberate, and definitely less awkward. It’s warm, it’s strange, and you can’t help but think he’s wrong. It’s not gross at all. This time, the kiss lingers, as if he’s trying to understand why you find it so fascinating. The world seems to fade away for a moment, until—

The front door slams open.

“I’m home!” a familiar voice echoes through the house, followed by hurried footsteps. Sae pulls back instantly, his expression blank as if nothing happened.

Rin appears in the doorway, stopping dead in his tracks. He blinks at the two of you, then points at you and Sae accusingly. “Why is Nii-chan eating her face?”

You want the ground to swallow you whole.

Sae groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Rin, stop saying stupid things.”

As Rin bounds away, laughing, you sit frozen, your cheeks on fire. Sae exhales, leaning back on the couch like it never happened. “See? Disgusting,” he mutters, though his tone sounds less sure now but he still reached out to hold your hand.

Some things, it seems, are better left in theory.

When Sae left for Spain, it felt like your heart had been ripped out. The boy you’d spent so many afternoons with, arguing, laughing, and most importantly sharing your first kiss, was gone. And the distance between you, one thing remained certain: Sae was your first love, and you fully intended for him to be your last.

Now you are seventeen, in a cozy hotel room, sitting on the plush couch, it feels like no time has passed. He’s here again, leaning into you, and the world-famous athlete—Itoshi Sae the pride of Japan, playing for Re Al is nowhere to be seen.

To you, he’s just Sae. The same annoying, sarcastic boy who always got under your skin, except now.

His lips are on yours, firm and demanding, as if making up for lost time. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer, and you don’t resist. How could you, when you’ve been missing him just as much?

His mouth trails down your jawline, his breath hot against your skin, and you let out a soft sigh, tangling your fingers in his hair. “You’ve been gone too long,” you whisper, between kisses. Sae pauses just long enough to smirk against your lips. “Not my fault you’re terrible at long-distance relationships.”

You roll your eyes, but the playful retort dies on your tongue as his lips find yours again, hungrier this time. He’s missed you—he doesn’t need to say it; it’s in the way he kisses you, the way he is finally claiming his most important prize.

“Still gross?” you tease, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze.

His eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, his expression softens. “Very gross,” he says, before pulling you back into another kiss, as if trying to prove his point all over again.

You melt into him, your heart pounding as your hands clutch his shirt, desperate to close the space between you. It’s overwhelming, messy, and intense, but neither of you care.

Right now Sae isn’t Japan’s treasure. He’s yours.

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.

[monowires]

okay i doubt anyone will care about this nonsense rattling around in my skull, but i have a gale opinion to deliver.

i’ve seen a couple takes about gale mentioning mystra during the outer planes scene - “with you i forget my goddess” - that say it feels crude or odd of him to mention her in such a personal, intimate moment. i am one of the veritable few (or perhaps many, if i have simply not seen this opinion elsewhere) who felt quite touched by that line.

mystra has basically been involved in gale’s entire life. even before they were lovers she was his teacher and, of course, the goddess of the Weave. after his falling out with her he spent an entire year alone - due to the orb, yes, but it is very obvious that being cast out by mystra also had an immense effect on gale’s mental health during that time. i mean, it doesn’t take long at all after meeting him for him to open up about it at least vaguely; it’s been on his mind for a year, and he has had no one (except for tara) to talk to about it.

it’s also very easy to infer that he’s terrified of being cast out again, although he views it in such a way that he wouldn’t blame you if you did - because he still thinks he needs to earn mystra’s forgiveness. he still feels like he is the only problem. when he tells you about the orb, he immediately starts talking about how he wouldn’t blame you at all if you wanted to get rid of him, and even when you’ve romanced him he talks about being undeserving of your love and that he’s going to do everything he can to make it so that he is. he very clearly doesn’t think of himself as a worthy partner, and you cannot tell me that’s not because of mystra.

so no, i don’t think it’s weird or crude for him to mention mystra in such a personal moment. because what he’s saying there isn’t “you distract me from mystra”, he’s saying that the relationship makes him forget all of the self-doubt and insecurities that mystra sowed in him. it makes him feel like he may actually be worthy of love. it makes him feel like he’s more than just his mistakes.

anyway this probably didn’t make ANY sense but it was bouncing around in my skull like the dvd screensavers.

[biscuitdetective]

When I was in year 4 primary, every time we had a creative writing task I would find a way to make it about my cat OC who was called Scampey (he was an alley cat with ripped ears, but versatile enough that he could be both in universes where he was cat and humans existed, or universes where everyone was a talking cat). To me, these tasks were just writing prompts to expand on the Scampey’s Extended Universe. If the prompt was to write about someone overcoming a problem, it would be about Scampey figuring out how to outsmart a stray dog. If the prompt was someone’s first day of school, Scampey went to school now. I loved these tasks but my teacher hated that I did this. She was a very old fashioned woman who was frequently accusing me of causing trouble on purpose (when I was really just Being an Autistic Child), but something about the idea of talking animals really aggravated her for some reason. At first she’d say stuff like ‘would you like to write about someone OTHER than Scampey this time’, to which of course I’d be like ‘Nah that’s ok I like Scampey! :D’

I distinctly remember she set a writing task where the main character had to be a piece of material and we would write about how they were made into a product and I am 100% certain she did this because she didn’t want me to make it about Scampey. She was VERY SMUG about this task and I remember how much her face fell when she read my story about a piece of leather being made into a shoe which then got sold in a shoe shop and then lost and thrown out with the trash where it ended up in an alley to meet Scampey The Alley Cat and they became friends. After that, she warned me if I write one more story with Scampey, she would give me detention. She set another writing task, I forget what it even was, and so I innocently wrote a story about Scampey’s best friend Stacey instead (another alley cat).

The teacher called my mother about this, telling her (we still laugh about this) that there was clearly something wrong with me and I was either creatively stunted or deliberately trying to piss her off because all I ever wrote about was talking cats instead of humans like a normal person. My mums response was basically ‘idk what the problem is. I think that’s creative. I like Scampey.’

I think the thing that annoyed me the most about this was that almost every single other kid in the class just made themselves the main character in every single one of these stories except the product one, but they were never called uncreative (or threatened with detention)

what's the most demented thing you guys got in trouble for in school mine was when an english boy in my class made fun of my name and called my mum a (derogatory word for irish travellers) so i told him my ira uncle was in town and was coming to blow him up after school

[bytemee]

mean!sorority!karina x loser!gp!reader headcannons? 🙂‍↕️

WORST BEHAVIOR — yu jimin headcannons.

read the one shot here!

pairings. mean!sorority!karina x loser!gp!reader

warning(s). pet names (karina calling u puppy), jealous & possessive!karina, let me know if there’s more

words. 802

authors note. this is the first time i EVER did headcannons… got too lazy to add nsfw ones though 😞

mean!sorority!karina who calls you ‘puppy’ more than your actual name because, in her eyes, that’s exactly what you are—her pathetic, obedient little lapdog.

mean!sorority!karina who keeps you on a short leash. you’re not allowed to talk to certain people, go to certain parties without her knowing, or—god forbid—ignore her texts. if you take too long to respond, she’ll send a follow-up: “puppy? don’t make me come find you.”

mean!sorority!karina who loves making you flustered. she’ll drag her fingers along your jaw, trace her nails down your arms, lean in as if she’s going to kiss you—only to pull away at the last second and laugh.

mean!sorority!karina who got possessive without realizing it. she still made fun of you relentlessly, but the moment someone else tried? her tone turned cold. “i didn’t say you could talk to them.”

mean!sorority!karina who bullies you in public, but gets territorial in private. if someone else messes with you? suddenly, she’s not amused.

mean!sorority!karina who hated how much she noticed you. the way your ears turned red when she got too close. how you always showed up when she needed you, no matter how ridiculous her request was.

mean!sorority!karina who would never admit she liked you first. instead, she’d just scoff, roll her eyes, and mutter, “ugh. why do you have to be so pathetic?” as if it was your fault she was falling.

mean!sorority!karina who is the most demanding, impatient person ever. she wants kisses when she wants them, and nothing is going to stop her from getting what she wants—not even you.

mean!sorority!karina who tries to hide it, but her heart melts when you do cute things. when you offer her the last cookie, or tell her she looks nice in a dress, or hold the door open for her.

mean!sorority!karina who doesn’t know how to express her feelings properly. so, when she says, “you’re so annoying,” or, “you’re lucky i tolerate you,” or, “it’s not that i like you or anything,”—you know it really means, “i love you.”

mean!sorority!karina who acts like she’s doing you a favor by letting you be around her. “you should be grateful, puppy. not everyone gets to be my personal lapdog.” but the truth is, she’d probably go insane if you ever actually left.

mean!sorority!karina who gets jealous so easily, it’s ridiculous. she’ll roll her eyes and act uninterested, but if she catches you laughing a little too hard at someone else’s joke? she’s suddenly in your space, hands on your collar, whispering, “what’s so funny? care to share with the class?”

mean!sorority!karina who uses her nails to tease you constantly. she loves the way you freeze up when she drags them down your arm or across the back of your neck. and she always does it when she knows you can’t react—like in public or in front of her friends.

mean!sorority!karina who finds excuses to touch you, even when she doesn’t have to. adjusting your hoodie strings, fixing your hair, pulling you close by your belt loop just to whisper something unnecessary. she’s addicted to how easily she can fluster you.

mean!sorority!karina who says she doesn’t do relationships, but somehow, you’re different. she doesn’t know when it happened, but suddenly, she’s only interested in you. and when someone asks if you two are a thing, she just scoffs and says, “she’s just my pup. i keep her around.”

mean!sorority!karina who would act like she doesn’t care, but if you ever tried to leave? if you ever pulled away from her, even slightly—suddenly, she’s not so nonchalant anymore.

mean!sorority!karina who will corner you at a party, arms crossed, voice deceptively calm. “what’s this i hear about you ignoring me, puppy?” and if you try to play dumb, her lips curve into a smirk that doesn’t reach her eyes. “don’t test me.”

mean!sorority!karina who will scoff, roll her eyes, and mutter, “fine. go.” if you ever seriously consider walking away. but the second you actually turn your back, she’s grabbing your wrist, yanking you close, and whispering, “you think you can just leave me?”

mean!sorority!karina who won’t beg, won’t admit she’s scared, but if you ever really push her—if you tell her you’re done, that she can’t keep stringing you along—her mask finally cracks. her voice will drop as she mutters, “you don’t get it, do you? you’re mine, puppy.”

mean!sorority!karina who is terrified you’ll realize that somewhere along the way, she became yours, too.

[sachinteng]

Syntax Error

After years of being asked about it, I thought I'd tell the story of my peculiar name, and explain what this little logogram I started using is about.

I don't look like my name should be Sachin. South Asian folks point it out to me all the time. If you don't know, Sachin is a Sanskrit name, and I am visibly not Desi, so people are often confused. People usually ask if I'm named after Sachin Tendulkar, the famous cricket player. And for a period of time my local Indian restaurant thought I was Indian and would give me free rice! Until they found out I wasn't and stopped. Very sad day.

So why am I named Sachin if I'm not Desi?

The name my parents gave me is 十晴. Specifically my dad. My father insisted on naming me. Spent months obsessing over it. But he never gave me an English name. And on the day I was born my dad was…asleep, didn't answer the phone which rang all day, and missed the entire birth. To this day my mother tells this story whenever I miss a phone call. So, when I was born they had no idea what to put on my birth certificate.

The pinyin translation for 十晴 is Shí Qíng. But my mom didn't know pinyin. The lawyer who drew up the paperwork for my birth certificate was Indian, and when he heard 十晴, he said, 'that sounds like Sachin. I'll just put that!' And my mother, tired and alone in the hospital, in a foreign land called Flushing, Queens, said okay. And who can blame her.

And that's how I got my name. In the most arbitrary, accidental way possible. My dad, after months and months of hyper-focusing on a name, fumbled it all right at the end. I wish I could say my name was meaningful in Hànyǔ at least but, my name is very strange to Hànyǔ speakers as well.

The character 十 means 'ten' as in the number 10. And 晴 means 'clear sunny skies.' It's the kind of word a weather reporter will commonly use in the forecast. Honestly, Ten Sunny Skies sounds like a Wǔxiá character. Like Eight Flying Lotuses or Five Poison Fists, or something. Not gunna lie, I prefer this explanation.

So my dad loves to tell this joke…about how his name is too hard to write. It has so many strokes in it that when he was in school taking tests it took him so long to write his name on tests that when he was finished writing it the other students already finished taking the whole test. So, when he has a child he's going to make sure to give them the easiest name with the fewest strokes possible.

And that's where it comes from. Some dinner party joke he liked to tell friends. Thanks dad.

My name has a different meaning to me now as an adult. Over the years many people have heard my name and said, 'Do you know the story of Hòu Yì 后羿?'

An old folktale says there used to be 10 Suns. They would cycle one at a time, because there can never be more than one sun in the sky at the same time. But, one day the suns got lonely, they wanted to see each other and broke the rules. All 10 suns burned at the same time. To stop the suns from burning the entire world down Hòu Yì, the legendary archer, shot the suns out of the sky and left just one, the sun we have today.

It's a fable about doing too much, not thinking about the consequences, and literally burning out. Something I relate to more than I'd like. I burned out hard a few years ago and recovering was a long, painful journey that I never want to repeat.

In the end, the last Sun loses all their siblings and has to carry the burden alone. But, if they'd just had patience and paced themselves, there would still be 10 suns across 'Ten Sunny Skies 十晴.'

[cupidbedsy]

🪻 for "I neglected you." "No, it's ok, you..." "No, it's not ok. I should have realized how lonely you felt." With pookie Quinn please?

✿ CUPID'S FLORAL SHOP ✿

here's a freshly picked lonely lavender 🪻 !

warnings: quinn neglecting reader, tired quinn, unresolved conflict

word count: 937

florist cupid: thank you so much for requesting lovie, i'm sorry it's taken me a while to write it! i hope you enjoy it, the ending is a bit rushed because i was running out of ideas and words to use 😭

you've known about quinn's tendencies to throw everything he has into hockey. every time you got home from work, he was rewatching old games or jotting down ideas in his notebook for practice the next day. it was one of your favorite things about him, how dedicated he was, but it quickly also became one of your least favorite things.

he did everything he could to make the team better, to make himself better, but at the same time, he was wearing himself thin. every time he'd come home from practice or a game, he'd look a little bit more tired than how he left. each loss cut into him and you couldn't recall the amount of nights he spent laying awake after one, recounting all the things they could've done differently.

eventually, you started seeing less of him, mentally at least. he was still there when you got home from a long day at work, he was still there to pull you into his arms in the middle of the night, but you can't remember the last time the two of you had sat down and had dinner together.

you didn't want to rant to him about the minor mishap that you had or that you lost one your favorite sweaters the other day, not when he he felt like he had the weight of the team on his shoulders, he had bigger things to worry about.

but deep down, you wanted him to focus on something other than the losses, other than the comments. each time you would offer to go out with him or watch a movie, he would shake his head and push you aside, claiming he had some stuff to work on. with each rejection, you grew annoyed and soon it became too much.

you got home and once again, quinn was sitting there scribbling something in that godforsaken notebook. you couldn't help the sigh (huff) that escaped you, alerting quinn to your presence.

he gave you a small smile before turning back to his page, "hi baby."

you raked a hand through your hair, making it more messy than it already was. you shrugged your coat off, hanging it up, kicked your shoes off, and made your way over to the couch, plopping down next to him.

he didn't say anything, just continued to write with the cutest furrow of his eyebrow as he concentrated and you frowned as it softened your annoyance.

"quinn can we talk?"

"mhm." he drew something, you couldn't tell what, but you could assume it was a play he had been curating up since you walked through the door.

"quinn."

"'m listening, y/n/n." but he wasn't, he kept his focus on the page, drawing random lines over it.

you sighed, taking the notebook away from him, "quinn."

finally he looked up, pushing his hair out of his face to look at you, "why'd you take it away? i was working on something."

he reached for it but he simply held it out of his reach, "because i want to talk to you and i can't do that when your head is somewhere else."

"i was listening."

"no you weren't."

you placed the notebook behind you, hands making quick work of moving to the hem of your shirt and fidgeting with it. you mulled over your thoughts in your head, trying to organize them as best as you could.

"what'd you want to talk about?"

"quinn, listen..." you started but were quickly cut off by his bewildered voice.

"you're not breaking up with me are you?"

"what? no, of course not. i just wanted to talk about something."

he let out a sigh of relief, nodding as he sank back into the couch. you took this as a sign to go forward, continuing to play with the hem of your shirt, "you know how much i love that you take everything to hear,t the criticism, the compliments, the suggestions, and how much you do to make the team better but recently."

you trailed off again, a wave of nervousness washing over you, "i feel like we haven't been us."

he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "what do you mean?"

"when's the last time we had dinner, quinn?"

your question hit him in the face like a cold glass of water. he recounted the past month in his head, trying to rack his brain for the last time you two had gone on a date or spent the night together besides cuddling in bed.

you were right, it had been a while since the two of you had done anything, the realization rushed through him, a feeling of guilt and sadness following it.

"i neglected you."

his soft words made you frown, you didn't mean to make him feel worse than he already was, you just wanted to bring it to his attention, you reached for his hand, tangling your fingers in his, "no, it's okay, you..."

you tried to explain but he shook his head, slipping his hand from yours and standing up, "no, it's not okay. i should've realized how lonely you felt."

you watched as he walked fast to the kitchen, slipping his shoes on. he needed time to think, time to make this right between the two of you. he had messed up, and it weighed him down more than anything on the team could've.

"quinn, honey, where are you going?" you went to follow after him but as soon as you stood up he closed the door to your apartment, leaving you more alone than you had felt in weeks.

back to the shop ! ; navigation !

[maretinelli]

UNTIL YOU LOVE ME

Lando Norris X Piastri!fem!reader

Summary: When Y/n is Oscar's older sister, she works at McLaren in the media and still has a thing with Lando. But she starts avoiding him when she sees videos of him with another woman on Instagram.

Words: 3.7K+

Warnings: Swear words, LOTS of suggestive words, NO BETRAYAL (I didn't want to put more in summary so as not to spoil the plot of the story, relax, no betrayal. Because I hate that), Y/n is Oscar's older sister, mentions of other pilots and Lily being a very sweet, understanding sister-in-law and best friend to Y/n.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. And as always, this story came from a song I was listening to while washing the dishes hahaha (??) ❤️🇧🇷

MASTERLIST

"Since when does your sister speak Spanish?" Lando asks, leaning against the garage counter with his arms crossed. His gaze was fixed on Y/n near the track, talking to Franco.

Oscar, who was next to his teammate, looks up from his cell phone and sees his older sister talking to Franco, laughing and speaking in Spanish to the Argentine.

"Oh, since she started college. She had to take an extracurricular subject and chose Spanish." Oscar shrugs, turning his attention back to his cell phone.

Lando was still beside him, still leaning on the counter, his eyes fixed on Franco. He had a frown on his forehead, heavy breathing and a look as if he would jump for the pilot's neck.

Piastri then sighs and puts his cell phone in his pocket, nudging his friend's shoulder, making Lando look at him.

"Stop looking at him like that. Soon you'll be able to make him levitate in the air with just a look."

Lando rolls his eyes and uncrosses his arms, resting one hand on the counter behind him.

"She's still not talking to you?" Oscar asks, looking at his older sister and then at Lando.

He shakes his head. "No..."

"What about you? Did you at least try to explain yourself to her?" Oscar raises his eyebrows, waiting for Lando to say something.

"Obviously!" Lando says a little loudly. "I've been trying to talk to her in person and sending her messages for about three races now. But she ignores everything, making the excuse that she needs to sort out some things with the team."

Oscar chuckles softly, knowing that when his older sister didn't want to talk, she knew very well how to find a good excuse to get out of the situation.

"Trust me, you need to explain your side of the story, because... I know exactly what hell is going to happen next." He holds back a laugh and Lando's eyes widen a bit, turning his gaze to Y/n. "You need to tell her that the woman in your car in Monaco was-"

"Oscar!"

Before Oscar could finish speaking, Lily appeared in the garage with a sweet smile.

The Australian driver starts to take a few steps out of the garage and looks at Lando. "You need to talk to her!"

Lando smiles and nods.

Piastri grabs the rest of his things and turns towards where his sister was. "Y/n!! LET'S GO!" He shouts smiling and Y/n immediately turns towards her brother.

"OK! Wait for me in the car, I'll be there in a few minutes!"

Oscar just nods and holds his girlfriend's hand, who is waiting for him in the garage. The Australian looks at Lando and gestures with his hand, encouraging him to explain himself to his older sister.

Lando laughs and they leave the garage.

Since joining McLaren's media team, Y/n has always been close to Lando. They had an easy friendship, full of teasing and laughter, with a natural complicity that made even the mechanics joke that the two worked better together than many driver pairings.

But everything changed six months ago, after a GP that Lando won. The celebration in the paddock was intense, but what really stood out that night was the unexpected kiss that happened between them.

It was something spontaneous, impulsive and perfect.

After that kiss, something changed. They started meeting up outside of racing, seeing each other more often, wanting each other's company in their downtime.

At first, neither of them knew exactly what they were doing, but one thing quickly became clear: this wasn't just a phase or a hobby. Lando and Y/n never explicitly said they were dating, but they promised they wouldn't date anyone else until they figured out what that feeling meant to them.

The truth, however, was that they both already knew the answer. They were in love. They were loving.

Over time, the secret meetings became routine. Lando would take Y/n to Quadrant events, the two would spend nights relaxing in each other's apartments, watching movies or simply enjoying each other's company. Or maybe, it was just the sex.

Everything was away from the eyes of the media, away from any rumors or gossip. Only Oscar and Lily knew what was really going on between them.

But it all fell apart a few weeks ago.

She was in her apartment in Monaco, enjoying a quiet evening, when she decided to browse the internet without any commitments. That's when a video appeared on the screen, posted by some fan.

In the video, Lando was leaving a restaurant accompanied by an unknown woman. They seemed to be talking normally, until she got into his car and he drove away.

The shock was immediate.

A few hours earlier, Lando had even texted Y/n saying he would spend the night with her. And now, here he was, leaving a restaurant with another woman and giving her a ride.

Y/n's mind began to spin, remembering his words, the promise they made not to be with anyone else. Had he lied to her? Betrayed her trust?

Anger and disappointment came together.

At that moment, she made a decision. She canceled all future dates, started avoiding him at GPs, and whenever she had to interact with him for work, she kept everything strictly professional. She ignored all his messages, refused all attempts to talk, and even blocked his number.

But what Y/n didn't know was that it was all just a misunderstanding.

Lando hadn't dated anyone but her. The promise they made was still real to him. He hadn't dated anyone since the day she was announced to work at McLaren. God, he knew from that day that the Australian was the woman of his life.

And the woman in the video wasn't what she seemed, and he desperately needed to tell Y/n the truth before it was too late.

After finishing the conversation with Franco, Y/n walked to the garage again to grab her bag and go to where her brother was waiting. Lando took advantage of the moment and tried to get closer to her, wanting to explain himself, because he knew exactly why she was like that.

"Y/n, can we talk?" He appears beside her as soon as she enters the garage.

Y/n rolls her eyes, noticing his arrival there, and just continues walking down the hallway, ignoring the deep look he had on her.

"Is this about some video for McLaren's media?" She asks, spotting her bag and slinging it over her shoulder.

"hm, no..."

"Then we have nothing to talk about. Good night!" Y/n started walking again.

Lando sighs deeply, but smiles, biting his lower lip slightly, knowing that under different circumstances, back when they were together, she would just take her anger out on him in bed. The two of them. Messy sheets. And heavy breathing.

He quickly shakes those thoughts from his mind and runs after her, before she can fully exit the garage.

"So... Franco, huh?" Lando approaches her, whispering close to her neck. Y/n tries to suppress the shiver she felt, but it was unsuccessful, Lando smiled knowing that he had so much power over her.

"Maybe, who knows?" Finally her gaze falls on Lando, raising her eyebrows a little and putting on a corner of her mouth.

He smiles. Y/n Piastri is definitely very different from her brother. While the younger one was more reserved, made few jokes and always had a neutral expression on his face. The older one was a totally provocative person, made a thousand jokes a day and was extroverted.

And Lando knew how incredibly provocative she was in bed. Oh, how he knew.

"I didn't think he was paying you much attention!"

Y/n looks at him in disbelief. "I didn't know you cared so much." She continues walking. "And I also don't know why you're talking to me. You should be thinking about the actions you've been doing while I was in my apartment waiting for you."

Lando rolls his eyes a little amused at the situation he was in. Yet another sign that Norris could be quite the provocateur.

He leans closer to her ear, making her swallow hard and start walking slower.

"You know, I don't think he's your type..." He begins. "I don't think he's going to hold you in bed..." Lando smiles, watching Y/n lose the stability he had created around her lately. "Because... with him you try, but with me you come and sit!"

Y/n held a breath in her throat and looked at him, trying to keep a serious expression and a frown on her forehead.

"Are you still talking?" She sends him a menacing look, which for a moment, makes Lando regret his jokes and teasing.

Y/n continues walking through the paddock, quickly now, a little shaken by those words, but leaving Lando behind, staring at her silhouette that was getting further and further away.

Norris would do anything that weekend to have an explanatory conversation with Y/n, even if he had to use his flattering and provocative side.

•••••••••••••••••••••

The following day, the early sun was already painting the paddock lines orange during the Spanish Grand Prix. While the team moved with their usual pre-race haste and energy, Y/n remained secluded in her small McLaren media office, a simple space provided by the organization for the teams.

Ever since Lando's attempted conversation the previous afternoon, she had made a point of avoiding him, maintaining an emotional distance that reflected the confusion she felt and the provocations that had definitely gotten to her.

Sitting in a swivel chair, Y/n turned slowly, as if trying to find answers in the rotations of her own body. His eyes, lost in thought, followed the reflection of the lights that were beginning to twinkle through the window glass, while his hands, restless, gently touched the back of the chair.

Beside her, Lily was sitting in a smaller chair, positioned so that she could follow both the cell phone screen and the thoughts that, lightly, escaped Y/n's lips.

“I think I have the measles.” She says, blowing her nose into a tissue and Lily stifles a laugh, raising her eyebrows slightly. “I had a fever before I got on the flight and now I’m sneezing.”

"Couldn't this just be a cold?"

"I don't know..." Y/n sighs, resting her head on the back of the chair and turning around again. "I googled it and it told me it was measles or cancer... so I preferred measles."

Lily lets out a loud laugh. "Good thing you didn't choose a career in healthcare." Y/n turns to her and laughs too. "But the fever? I think it's love fever." She waggles her eyebrows. "Have you talked to Lando yet?"

Y/n rolls her eyes when she hears the pilot's name.

"Not me. I have nothing to talk to him about!"

"But he must have, right?" Lily said calmly, leaning forward a little to look at her sister-in-law. Lily shook her head with an amused smile, crossing her legs and resting her elbow on the arm of the chair. "You can pretend you don't care, but I know you still like him."

Y/n stopped spinning in her chair, sighing deeply.

"I like him, okay?" She admitted, looking down at her hands. "I'm still in love with him, and that's what makes me the most angry. Because if it were any other guy, I'd just move on. But it's Lando...and he's the best...I can't explain how in love I am...and I also can't believe he did this to me."

Lily watched her for a moment, biting her lip as if pondering her next words. She knew the truth. Lando had already told her and Oscar everything when Piastri confronted him, ready to defend his older sister.

But it wasn't Lily's place to reveal the truth. Y/n needed to hear it directly from Lando.

"Have you ever considered that it might have been a misunderstanding?" Lily suggested carefully.

Y/n snorted. "Yes. And at the same time, no. If he wanted to explain it to me, he had plenty of time to do so."

"That is if you would stop running away from him, right?" Lily raised an eyebrow. "He's already getting frustrated with how much you avoid him."

Y/n crossed her arms, not knowing how to respond. Maybe Lily had a point, but she still couldn't just forget what she saw.

Lily, noticing what her sister-in-law was thinking, decided to lighten up a bit. "And you know what? He's getting really jealous every time you talk to Franco. It's hilarious. He glares at the poor guy every time he sees you two talking."

Y/n rolled her eyes, holding back a smile. "Oh, great. Now he wants to play jealous?"

"Believe me, if his looks were lethal, Franco would already be in another dimension." She laughed.

Before Y/n could respond, they heard a knock on the door. Turning their heads in sync towards the noise.

"Come in!" Y/n said, still smiling slightly.

When the door opened, Lando appeared, leaning against the frame with a serious look, but with a small smile on his face.

"Lily, Oscar is looking for you." He informed, glancing quickly at Y/n before turning his eyes back to Lily.

Lily smiled, feeling that this was the perfect moment to leave the two alone. "Great!" She said, standing up. Before leaving, she lightly touched Y/n's shoulder. "Take the opportunity to talk to him."

Y/n shot her sister-in-law a death glare, but Lily just winked at her before leaving, smiling sympathetically as she walked past Lando.

Silence filled the room. Y/n looked away from the pilot and stood up, going to a table to get her camera.

"Can we talk?" He was still there, leaning against the doorframe.

"I have to work," she said, adjusting her gear. "Now is not a good time for conversation. You should be in the garage, too."

Lando sighed, and before she could move toward the door, he closed it, blocking the exit.

"Do you need to work or are you avoiding talking to me?" He asked, crossing his arms.

"Or... do you just want to go talk to Franco? You guys seem pretty close, don't you?"

Y/n stopped in her tracks, narrowing her eyes at him. "Seriously? You want to go that way?"

Lando smirked. "I'm just asking."

Y/n approached the door, trying to open it, but he used his body to stop her.

"What's wrong, Y/n? Are you afraid to answer?"

She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “Oh, please, Norris. If I wanted to provoke you, I could do a much better job of it than just talking to Franco.”

Lando chuckled, leaning closer to her ear. "And what would you do, then?"

Y/n just rolled her eyes and tried to ignore the heat his gaze caused. She was still irritated, but at the same time, she knew she was about to give in.

She felt the heat of Lando's body so close to hers that she had to close her eyes for a moment, trying to control her rapid breathing. But it was useless. He was there, so close, and she felt electricity run through every part of her body.

Making her remember all the times they were the only ones in a room with kisses, sighs and touches all over their bodies.

Lando smiled as he noticed her gesture, his expression becoming even more teasing.

"Why don't you give me a chance to explain myself, huh? Afraid of finding out I was wrong?"

Y/n opened her eyes, her stubbornness returning with a vengeance. "I've seen enough, Lando. I don't need to hear lies."

The answer only made Lando move even closer. They were face to face now, their faces inches apart. His intense gaze bored into her eyes, and Y/n felt her legs give out a little as her breath hitched against his lips.

"So that's it? You'd rather believe a random video than me?"

He was so close that she could feel his words on her skin, like a warm breath. Without thinking, as if something greater than her stubbornness took over her, Y/n moved even closer. And Lando smiled before finally kissing her.

It was a hot, urgent kiss, full of longing and emotion. His hands held her waist firmly, pulling her close, while her fingers intertwined in his hair. Lando kissed her as if he was trying to prove, with every movement, that she belonged to him. Y/n gave in for a moment, feeling her heart hammering in her chest.

But before they could go any further, she suddenly pulled away and slapped his chest, her expression irritated.

"You're impossible, Lando! That was a low blow!"

Lando chuckled, licking his lips. "I'd say it was well deserved."

Y/n huffed, pushing him aside lightly. "You should be focusing on the race, not me."

"I haven't been able to concentrate since you started avoiding me." He smiled sideways and added, his voice lower and full of intent, "I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you until you love me."

Y/n rolled her eyes and opened the door, rushing out and slamming it shut behind her. That was it. If she didn't talk to Lando right away, he would continue to follow her like a relentless paparazzi.

As she walked through the paddock, Lando's taunts still echoed in her mind. Little by little, she began to doubt whether she had really seen the situation wrong.

Oscar had insisted that she talk to Lando, and if it really was a betrayal, his brother would never speak like that.

Y/n suddenly stopped in the middle of the paddock, lost in her thoughts, when someone bumped into her.

"Oops! Sorry, Y/n! Are you okay?"

She blinked a few times and smiled.

"Hi, Yes, I just... I need to speak to someone on the team."

Franco frowned suspiciously. "You look a little lost."

She just smiled.

But before she could say anything else, the Argentine pilot placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and smiled.

"Well, whatever. It's going to be okay," he comforted gently. "See you around!" He walked through the paddock, holding a thermos in his hands and his mate.

It was at that moment that she decided. She needed to talk to Lando.

Y/n ran back to McLaren HQ, rushing inside to get to the office. But before she could reach the door, she turned a corner and bumped into Lando head on.

"What's going on?" He held her, worried.

"You!" Y/n smiled determinedly.

Lando smiled back and she grabbed his hand, pulling him back into the room.

"I was too hasty and didn't let you speak. But now you can say everything. Even if it hurts." She said quickly, as she closed the door to the small office.

Lando held her face with both hands, caressing her cheeks as he looked deep into her teary eyes.

"Okay, you were angry. But, Y/n, the woman in the video was my sister, Flo. She came to visit me in Monaco and I took her around the city. I would never cheat on you. Ever. And you know..."

Y/n felt her heart race. She blinked in confusion, letting the tears fall.

"Your...your sister?"

Lando laughs and takes his cell phone out of his pocket, opening the photo gallery and showing a photo of him and his brothers. The girl next to him was identical to the one who appeared in the video.

Y/n laughs and puts her hands on her face, a little embarrassed now.

"It's your sister-in-law." Lando chuckles. "You know, I'm in love with you Y/n, I haven't dated anyone before you showed up at McLaren. I knew something big was coming, and it was you. You're the woman I want in my life. I love you, my Australian!" Lando says softly, calmly and romantically. Another version of him that made Y/n's heart melt.

Y/n felt her heart race. She blinked in confusion, letting the tears fall. "Do... do you love me?"

Lando laughed softly.

"And why wouldn't I? You're wonderful, stubborn, funny, kind, beautiful... warm. I love your Australian accent, your laugh when you find something really funny. I love how you bite the cap of your pen when you're concentrating. I love when you play the big sister and fight with Oscar in the garage in front of everyone, just out of protectiveness." She laughs and Lando tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. "And I love... loving you."

Y/n's tears fell at once and, without thinking, she threw herself into his arms.

"I'm sorry. I was an idiot for not listening to you sooner. It's just... this relationship with a public figure still scares me."

Lando pulled her close, kissing the top of her head.

"I will never hurt you. Nor do anything that would make you feel betrayed. Besides, if I did that, Oscar would hunt me to the ends of the earth."

Y/n laughed, pulling away a little and cupping his face.

"I love you, Lan!" She confessed. And how she loved that British man.

Lando's smile grew and he took her hands in his. "So, do you want to make it official? Do you want to date me?"

Y/n's eyes widened in surprise. "You're asking me out now?"

"Yes. And if you say no, I'll have to kiss you again until you change your mind."

"Yes, I do, love." She smiles.

Lando pulled her into another kiss, this time calmer, but full of affection and love. His hands framed her face, as if she were a rare and precious jewel. The Australian's hands ran to his light brown curls, twirling some of them around her fingers.

"The only problem is that I don't have the ring here. But as soon as we get to Monaco, I'll spend hours with you in bed and give you the ring that's already been bought." Lando says, as they walk away.

"Okay, I guess I can go a few days without the ring." She smiles, and then leans closer to his ear. "But now, the part about staying in bed... I can't promise to stay without it..."

"If you keep saying things like that, I won't even be able to run tomorrow."

She laughed and kissed him again, knowing that no matter what, they were finally where they were supposed to be.

Author: Now, a curiosity hahaha I live in the south of Brazil, practically next door to Franco haha, and here I drink a lot of "Mate" too, I'm addicted, but it's also called "chimarrão". My aunts who live in the countryside call it "Mate", I who am from the big city call it chimarrão hahahahaha, just a curiosity of mine and the south of Brazil.

[wtfaniii]

Could you do the squid game characters x reader who likes to eat weird food combos?

I keep getting judged for my food choices 😔🤘

I understand you, HAHAHA I also tend to eat strange things sometimes

Squid game characters reaction to strange food

Your palate is very versatile and there are some people who may or may not like it.

We return to the requests!! Thank you for your wait and sorry for the delay ♡ I haven't reviewed this yet so sorry for any spelling mistakes :D and tell me if you would like me to add any character to my list

In-ho

Due to him job he rarely eats at his respective times so you are in charge of bringing him food and making sure he doesn't starve.

He appreciates what you do, he means it, he appreciates knowing that there is someone who cares about him even in the smallest thing like food, but every time he sees you enter his office with a covered silver tray he feels like his soul leaves his body for a few moments.

But seeing you smile silences any complaints he has, the food you make him knows that you make it with love and effort but damn, ¿hot cakes with bacon on top?

"¡Taraa!" You said proudly, putting the tray in front of him after having uncovered it and revealing your peculiar food combo "¡You have to try it! It looks weird but feels like a party in your mouth!"

The emotion in your voice silenced him for the second time, with a tight smile he took the cutlery and took a piece of the soft hot cake and joined it with the fried bacon, he brought it to his mouth under your watchful gaze and took a bite, he admitted it, sometimes he threw away your food but this combination definitely looked more decent than the previous ones.

And to him surprise it didn't taste bad.

"Mmmhh, it's delicious" He admitted eating his breakfast more enthusiastically, salty and sweet would be his favorite combination.

Jun-ho

The work day was quieter than usual, so you and Jun-ho had free time to talk and relax in the seats of the patrol car, being a traffic officer was boring sometimes.

But fortunately for you and unfortunately for him, you always had your favorite snack with you.

“Fries with honey” he sighed as he leaned back against his seat, watching as you pulled the bag of fries and a jar of honey out of your backpack.

"If you gave them a chance you'd see how good it tastes" you said flashing your tongue at him in a childish and playful manner to which he just laughed as he took the bag of chips from you and took a handful to eat.

"No thanks, the last time I listened to you I was in the bathroom for three hours."

You laughed out loud at his comment, he was right, you made him eat pizza with honey and his poor stomach suffered all day, maybe he didn't have the same resistance as you but you still enjoyed forcing him to eat sometimes just to make his body uncomfortable, that way Jun-ho would have fun and embarrassing anecdotes to tell.

The Salesman

"I finished my round for this day, it's your turn" Exclaimed the elegant and well-groomed man, standing next to you to hand you the briefcase, but a clear expression of disgust formed when he saw the food you had in your hands "¿What are you eating?"

You swallowed the bite in your mouth and excitedly showed him your peanut butter and pickle sandwich.

"My lunch, ¿do you want some?" You asked getting up from the park bench you were on and bringing your food closer to him face, a gesture that was out of pure kindness, he saw it as a threat to his person.

"Take that abomination away from me" He demanded with an expression of disgust and taking a step back using the briefcase as a shield "And look how dirty you got, go to the bathroom and get ready, we must have an impeccable appearance"

You looked at the candy stain on your jacket and twisted your lips when you saw that effort for your appearance had been of no use, as recruits they had a dress code.

"Hold this for me" you said and before he could complain you handed him your sandwich and walked to the nearest public women's bathroom.

This combination continued to seem strange to him and he held it away from him as if it were some toxic food, but after a few seconds his curiosity got the better and he took a bite of your lunch, when you returned, you surprised him eating and you smiled triumphantly, from that day on, you always brought an extra sandwich for him.

Gi-hun

For him, the food you brought him was horrible, he could barely swallow it or hold it in his mouth, so every time you brought him a snack he would throw it in the trash without you noticing.

Until one day he came home disappointed at not having found the salesman and found you standing in the middle of the living room with your arms crossed and a look of annoyance on your face.

Out of inertia he tried to back out and close the door, you didn't get angry often but seeing you do it meant risk and he definitely had in mind the reason for your displeasure, he had forgotten to take out the garbage bag this morning and if you took it out you probably found all the food you had made during the last three days.

"Don't even think about leaving" you threatened him with just your voice, forcing him to stay completely still "If you didn't like my food, you could have told me"

Now your voice didn't sound angry but yes hurt and disappointed, Gi-hun felt terrible and went to you to explain "I appreciate what you do for me, ¿but should I really eat pizza with applesauce on top?"

"You don't appreciate the art of cooking" you said dramatically, putting a hand to your chest "If you don't try it, you won't know if you like it"

He knew you were right, but damn, eating that was a sensation quite comparable to when he was in those games, however, as long as he saw you happy he agreed to try one of your peculiar combinations in front of you so that you would be sure that he tried it, he didn't like it but making him try new dishes was a success for you, now you just had to know which combination would be his favorite.

Gyeong-seok

This man is used to seeing and trying strange food, his daughter sometimes made him eat combinations without being entirely willing to do so, so he didn't complain when you put a spicy French fry with cream cheese in his mouth.

"Mmmhh, it's delicious, you always surprise me" he said, showing you a smile with his mouth closed while he chewed your strange combination.

"¡I knew you'd like it!" You said enthusiastically, taking another chip with cheese and bringing it to him mouth, he was busy painting another simple but beautiful canvas to sell his hands were full of paint stains so he was grateful that you were there to feed him with your peculiar snacks.

He admitted it, there were times when your food mixes didn't taste that good but he was too kind and cute to let you know, he'd rather stay in the bathroom for an hour with a stomach ache than hurt your feelings and never try these snacks again.

He opened his mouth waiting for another of your delicious snacks and you gladly did so, he enjoyed trying each new dish you invented so almost every day you appeared with a new mixture, he tried it and gave you his opinion which was mostly positive, anyway even if he didn't like it he wouldn't tell you unless really is an abomination to the culinary system, in which case he would be the kindest and gentlest with his words.

Dae-ho

¿Were your culinary tastes strange? Him are worse.

He needs to have something in his mouth every time he is stressed or nervous, he bites his nails, the collar of his shirt or in these cases snacks that you carry with you in the pocket.

At first you felt confident when you saw that he also had an exotic palate, but when you saw him eating avocado with cold coffee you rethought all the decisions you had made when it came to satisfying your cravings and hunger.

"¿Are you seriously going to eat that?" You asked him entering the kitchen where he was already drinking his morning coffee.

"Yeah, it tastes good," he assured with a funny smile when he saw your expression. "You can't judge me, you eat scrambled eggs with gelatin."

You laughed softly because you knew he was right, you approached him and he offered you to try his exotic drink, what a surprise you were when you tried it and admitted that it exceeded your expectations "Weird but good" you said taking another sip of coffee.

Dae-ho drew a triumphant expression on his face and offered to make you your own coffee. It was nice to have someone to share your culinary concoctions with.

Hyun-ju

She was curious to see you eating your chocolate chip cookies and ¿ham? with so much joy. You felt her gaze and believing that she was judging you, you returned a look with a frown.

She quickly realized the confusion so spoke up to apologize "oh no no no, I wasn't looking bad at you just… ¿What are you eating?"

"I have no idea" You admitted downplaying it as she sat next to you without taking your eyes off your snack. "¿Do you want to try?"

Hyun-ju nodded and you handed she a cookie wrapped in ham, hesitant but with curiosity on the surface she brought this small snack to his mouth and tried it.

She really tried hard not to spit out the food, ¿how could you eat it? However, she knew what it was like to feel judged, so with a lot of effort, swallowing the bite in his mouth and smiling at you.

"¿Do you like?" You asked excitedly but she just shook her head with a tight smile on her lips.

"No" she continued to keep a smile so as not to make you feel bad and it worked, not everyone will share these culinary tastes with you but you appreciated that there were those who gave you a chance without judging you.

Jun-hee

She wouldn't tell you anything about your meals, ask you to share them, or comment on how repulsive can sometimes seem.

But when her are pregnant you will have to get used to her taking away your snacks prepared in the kitchen, while you were preparing some Oreo cookies with peanut butter on top you barely turned around to take your glass of yogurt and when you saw there was nothing on the table.

Now next to you was Jun-hee eating your dessert with a happy smile.

"I thought you didn't like it" You said with a hand on your hip looking at her accusingly for taking away your snack.

"It's not as bad as I thought," her admitted, shrugging his shoulders casually and reaching out to take the entire package of cookies and jar of peanut butter from you.

You saw her walking back to the living room with your lunch and you gave up, but internally you smiled evilly when saw that you were finally going to share your creative food ideas with someone, you should take advantage while she was pregnant.

Myung-gi

For him it was already customary to see you eat anything edible that you found on your way, from pickles with chocolate and ham to spicy stuffed cheese,

He didn't say anything to you except certain expressions of disgust when he saw you eating those combinations, you weren't stupid, you noticed each and every time he looked at you as if he were going to vomit and instead of getting angry he made you laugh.

Every time you had the chance you made fun of him and teased him by threatening to force him to eat one of your lunches like now.

"¡Get off me!" He demanded, placing both hands to prevent you from putting whatever you had in your hands in his mouth.

"¡Oh come on! ¡Just one bite!" you said between laughs and without stopping

You weren't actually going to force him to eat this, you just wanted to scare and annoy him a little for fun, the only way to stop was for him to accept and then there would be no need for him to really try it, you just wanted to prove to him that shouldn't always reject the invitation to new experiences.

You held a piece of sausage with strawberry jam centimeters from his face while he grimaced in pain and anguish as if he were being subjected to the worst punishment in the world.

"Dramatic" you said getting up from the bed where you were fighting with him as you put the food in your mouth but before could eat it he hit your hand causing the lunch to fly "¡Hey!"

"Don't eat that, let's go, I'll take you to eat something decent." Myung-gi took your hand and dragged you out of the apartment to buy you an ice cream or a regular sandwich, maybe you should bother him more often if that was going to be your reward.

Choi Su-bong // Thanos

He didn't judge you at all, quite the opposite, he was even willing to try some strange foods you made, of course, some of the times he had to be high to be able to pass it down his throat.

"Look, spaghetti with melted chocolate on top" He told you, showing you a photograph of said food that he had found on his cell phone.

You grimaced when you saw such a thing, maybe it tasted better than it looked but still just seeing such a photograph made your stomach clench.

"I like to mix flavors but this is extreme" You said letting out a sigh and walking towards the couch, Thanos seemed offended by your comment, he wanted to help you try new things, adapt to your palate, but you weren't cooperating at all.

"¿What? I thought this would be like a five-star meal for you" he said dramatically.

Some might say he was joking but you knew him well enough to know that wasn't the case, he truly believed that you would be able to eat even the strangest food but you had certain limits.

Still, you appreciated the attempts he made to keep a smile on your face and make you feel comfortable in his company.

And poor soul of the one who dares to look at you with disgust while you were eating next to him on the street.