#I'm not one for saying everything is a sign from the gods cause i'm more likely to be called delusional by others

[thatbitchery]

So. Ladies and ladiettes of the press, I am finally going to talk about That Which We Do Not Mention Here. Yes, that. The Big Bad M. The Ew. That thing I Don't even respond to. Manifesting. Yes yes clutch your pearls, I am actually going to teach you the Manifesting Code. Yes I know. I can't believe I'm doing this either. You KNOWWW idgaf about it when I'm giving it for free like this but anyway. The love and light and angel numbers ppl this is your sign to unfollow me I'm about to dismantle your entire belief system.

Well then. Ah where do I start. First off, everyone say thank you to all the spiritual girls and monks and witches I've met and to me for being wayyy too open minded for a Christian Catholic. Everyone say Thank You, B.

First, manifesting is a feminine thing. You HAVE to be in your feminine to manifest. Ask my masculina ass, I'd know. Would've accomplished 5 times more if I could just for God's sake be feminine but heh. If you can't be in your feminine, you need to find someone that is and channel it? Use it? like your dad and bf and male friends and ugly friends are doing with you. Good news is they don't even have to consent to it, energy fields work on proximity not willpower. Like you don't have to consent being affected by nuclear energy if you're in it's proximity you will get affected. If you are feminine and always tired or drained man do I have news for you :). Exactly. WHY? Because to manifest is to CREATE, and what is femininity, children? The manifesting code is the femininity code.

Second, manifesting is a container thing. Container, in the exact sense of the word. What is a container, you ask, and how do I expand it? Well, have you considered google? I ask back. You shake your head and I nod mine. I signed up for this, after all. Give me a minute I'll get to it.

Third, Manifesting is a question of truth. And not what you wish the truth was, what the truth really is. I love liars I do yesssss the world is a stage and you are a performer yess lie BUT you can't lie to yourself? Or to, well, God? The Universe? The Source? Whatever you believe in? And the more you try to the more you suffer, and for what? Again, I'll get to it.

Now, some truths I need to throw out there for no reason-

Gratitude is a lack mindset I'm sorry. I'm sorry it is

Being girly does have ties to femininity but its not exactly the same. This isn't about that Grating ass Mina Irfan voice, and this is coming from someone that does not stand for female on female slander.

Mothering and nurturing are masculine traits actually. Coming from someone again, so masculine I have a whole blog and do massive coaching to channel that energy so I don't baby adults.

You manifest in your feminine you keep it in your masculine. One day, when I am as jobless and bored as I am now, we will talk about this masc/ fem thing okay? You need to either be fully fem in a room with mascs that will balance it out (cool thing is, they don't even have to consent to it muahahaha). Extremely dangerous but what's a little thrill to it? or balance a 60/40. 60 masculine. If not, You'll just get it but not keep it, and what's the point? Again, what is creation with no sustenance? Balance. Yin/Yang or whatever it's called, good thing is it doesn't always have to be within you. You can balance by proximity ;).

We do not Act As If in this house okay? Visualization is as far as I'm willing to go, but we do not act as if here. Matter of fact if you could just not visualize either.

Life, the purpose of life, is experience and relationships. That's it. everything that does not meet these two will cause pain. Pain is a result of separation and stagnation.

There is no good, there is no bad. Only time, space, perception and interpretation.

(I can't believe I'm doing this rn?Oh how the mighty have fallen???). PS: just to put it out there i still HATEEE the manifesting ppl we are not the sameeeeee ok bye. And I will never again talk about this don't text me about it and if I delete it before you get it idk merry Christmas?and idc what your guru said.

OK i'll do it. I'll do it.

PART ONE: FEMININITY, DETACHMENT AND EXPERIENCES

As agreed above I'll get into the fem/masc dynamics some moons to come when I manipulate my way inro a holiday just to spend it working for no pay. For today, in the interest of this topic, lemme run it soft by you.

Femininity is the art of being. Creation is being. It does not require enrgy or effort to be exerted, just transferred. I'll keep this PG13 for the religious kids that can't fathom the I AM GOD mentality so let's say it this way- everything exists, its just brought into vision? By a transfer of energy, and transfer does not need effort, just a medium. The way you need steel to transfer heat from the fire into your food to cook it? In that way the steel pan is simply a medium. It does nothing, just exists and uhm, surrenders? That is femininity, the medium. It's a state of just- being. Detachment but surrender? If you get it you get it? The steel pan doesn't care if the heat is too much or too little or if the food is cooked or not? It will pass as much heat as is being transferred? Detachment. But then it has to kinda surrender? Itself? Heat could destroy it if too much, and yet it has to take the risk? Look if you don't get it I don't know how else to explain it to you. Femininity is surrendering to the transfer? Aka creation, being indifferent and surrendering to it, knowing you risk destruction? I'll stop it there for now :)

To manifest you need to understand- (And this is where if you do not understand the I AM God mentality you fall off) everything that exists exists not because of you, but through you. Like children. Second, Everything exists. Third, it is not your business how it exists or for what. Fourth, you don't get to choose how it exists or for what (THIS< ESPECIALLY THIS? When they say submission they actually mean surrender, and not to a man / masc). What does this mean? If you want money okay but you don't get to decide how it comes to you. You create the container for it and move on. Will you collect it? Inherit? Get a promotion? Gift? Surrender and detach from that and move on. It is insisting you have to get it through a raise that's keeping you broke. Channel, container. surrender and detach.

So this is the feminine code as pertains to this- I AM.

Thats it, bye.

Ok I'll get into it. Everything you want, you want because it's you. Ma idk how to explain this without getting all witchy its just- We are all one consciousness? If you get it you get it if not, that's ok you won't die maybe just suffer unnecessarily and keep coming back to the 3D until you get it hehe. The Ocean is one but it has kelp. kelp is not the ocean the ocean is not kelp but kelp is part of the ocean and the ocean is part of the kelp. That's the best I can do.

On to experiences, experiencing is a feminine trait. You know how men will be in a room with just tv and mattress and be okay? Just not shower and be okay? Not realize how that thing they did affected people? Be so, disconnected? Because men are born predisposed to masculinity and those people can't experience nothing to save their lives. No perception of sense. Sensuality is a feminine trait because it is experiencing through the senses. The girls that like to smell like roses and eat good food and have soft skin, those girly girls? They're feminine in that they experience through the senses ie sensuality. If you're learning to be feminine start with the senses. Senses are how we experience the world and what did we say was purpose no. 2 for existence? Uh huh. What does that have to do with manifesting?

You can not manifest if you are not experiencing life. Your guru wants you to light the candles and wear that dress you like and all that because it means you are experiencing life (Again, we experience the world through our senses) and then, only then, can you manifest. Shout out to my ADD/ADHD gang we can't manifest to save our own lives because we are never in the room- get CBT and learn to stay in the room. You can not manifest in escapism, why we said learn to be in the room? Escapism is masculinity (again, ask me I'd know). You need to be in the room fully.

NOWWWWWWW lets gooo to the part of the love and light ppl I hate- refusing and blocking experiences because you have decided they are bad and interpreted them as painful is how you get DepresseD. That is the science of depression and PTSD and all that, mind you, you refuse to accept an experience because you decided it's bad. And this is not to say all experiences are good, in what world is assault or loss of a loved one good- I'm not saying gaslight yourself. You are NOT grateful he broke up with you stop lying to your own gratitude journal. I'm saying- accept it AS IS. It is what it is. If you're hurt you're hurt. If you're in pain feel the pain, its an experience and again WHY ARE WE ALIVE PEOPLE? Accept your experiences. Feel your feelings. Surrender to it? It is what it is? Stop trying to control it? We don't control our feelings we control our actions based on them. We feel our feelings okay? No badbitchness is acting like some stone in the name of being stoic. Femininity is being stoic. It is what it is. You block your experiences you refuse to surrender you refuse to detach you refuse to be indifferent and, Y'know.

2. CONTAINERS, WHAT THEY ARE AND HOW TO EXPAND THEM.

Do consider google for this, thanks. No fr. How do I even explain this. Y'all don't pay me enough for this? Matter of fact y'all don't pay me at all? Can't wait to resent y'all bc of the energy imbalance lol. If i ever delete this blog that's the resentment.

The shark in the tank we know this story. Shark in tak only grows to the size of that tank. Shark in ocean grows to max size. Same animal. Difference? The container. You get? You get? YOU GETTTTTT?

You can only receive as much as you can contain. Think of yourself both as the tank and the shark. You can only grow as big as your container. You can only hold as much as the maximum capacity of your container.

THIS, THIS- CHILDREN- IS WHERE WE GET TO IT. THIS IS THE REAL SHIT.

Now, say you're a mother. Billionaire. Can have it all in a day. Your 10 year old that has never even skated asks for a G Wagon. Now, can you buy it? Of Course. Will You? Uhm. No, no obvioulsy no. Not because you can't, because she does not have the CONTAINER for it. She needs to be old enough. Then she needs to get a license. Then maybe a corolla. Then she can get that Wagon.

See that thing I just described? That is her expanding her container.

The container is the space the thing you are asking for will manifest in. Trip to paris okay do you have a passport? Can you handle yourself in Paris? Do you even know what you want to do in paris? NO ONE cares if you have the money for it btw it's embarrassing af to manifest money uhm? It's giving lack lol. Do you have space to hold the thing you want? Manifesting being a billionaire when you can not manage 1k without going crazy, it's not coming. Expand ypur money container.

Once upon a time couple of revolutions back I had a stupid crush on this XY person? The consuming kind? We had chemistry and he just- fell off. Just cut it off? And I'm like uhm universe bestie I think you forgot the I want it I get It Code? Desire- reception pipeline? My 3% femininity? That's what we want? then later read this thing that says God will not let you have it because You will lose yourself to it and God needs you to be yourself. Amen? Given you are the Universe/ God/ Figurehead X trying to experience itself through your pov- see why it would never let you have that thing unless you have a container for it? Because it could be the thing that destroys you? And it wasn't wrong lol I was willing to shift my entire life for this one XY lol. Not until I expanded that container that I met my now bf, and container so big if we break up it'll suck but anyway on to the next?

Before you manifest, create the container for that thing. Create space for it. Give it a channel -several actually- to follow to you, then let it go and move on.

You want money, okay. How much? Six figures. KK. First, get financial education on how to deal with money, then put ourself in situations for it to come to you. Work towards that promotion but do not attach to it, don't think it's the only way you can get it. Then, date a millionaire. Then have a business, play the lotter idk. Multiple channels and a soft space for it to land on.

You want a masculine provider okay good for you. Expand that container and put yourself in his path.

You want to have more fun? good for you. cut off those pessimists and cowards. say more yes's? Yeses? Whatever. Wtf even is english lol. (I'm tipsy if you can't tell). Put yourself out there. Seek more experiences.

You want to be healthy? Okay expand that container. Eat healthy. Move more. Do health affirmations. See a doctor. Cut out the toxins.

You want X- okay. Expand that container. Max the channels. Surrender. detach.

One word- EXPOSURE.

3. THE DESIRE CODE

If only I had a dollar for every single time I talk to y'all about how to reach your goals and find out, less than three minutes in- this twenty five year old unit of an absolutely gorgeous woman has NO idea what she wants and is chasing the goals she thinks she is supposed to chase I'd have bought a car by now? Understandably socialization is extremely brutal in girls so I'm not going to go off on you, I'm going to tell you you can NOT UNWANT something. And you can not superimpose whatever desires you think are more noble or acceptable. And, in case it's not obvious by now, this Universe will keep hurting you until you go back to factory settings. You can fight, if you want, but you won't win. And the universe / God/ Figurehead (If your figurehead is masculine don't ever talk to me again?) responds to desire. Not wants. Not needs. Not prayers. Desires. Save time, go to therapy, return to factory settings and operate from there. Desire is a link to a point on a plane? Its the softest I can put it. It's a very straight line, if you fall off you get hurt because there is no path outside it? You want what you want. Go get it stop trying to not, especially for something as stupid as society. Just to gag you- You'll come back to this plane as many times and suffer through all of the lifespan until you just meet your needs/ desires so if you hate being alive well. There's a shortcut-

Either you manifest your actual desire or you manifest fun fun fun ways the Source will come up with to get you back on track your choiceeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

There was another point probably but I can't compute.

BMAC

[bugwolfsstuff]

Pagans who have been using candles to talk to the gods (cannot remember what it's called) on tiktok: I think the gods are mad, their candles are going crazy/not lighting at all

Me who does not worship that way but just got lots of them on my fyp: ....focal?? (word??)

[tellafairy]

thoughts on shifting + manifesting with ease. (as someone who's shifted many times, alongside manifesting)

coming back to this side of tumblr after spending years away from it has made me realized how many of you are truly the problem, it might sound kinda harsh but really. so many of you ask the same questions over and over again.. "but HOW do i do it?" "how do i shift" "how do i manifest" JUST DO IT. stop looking for signs, stop looking for methods or "cheat codes". just do it man.

your mind is so powerful and it actually kinda irritates me how many of you doubt it, just because it "seems to easy". you don't understand how you've been manipulated by society to not see your power. how have you been on loa social media, shifting social media, for soooo long — yet still don't see it?? let me tell you..

the moment i got off social media, the moment i took time to erase everything in my head and stop overthinking everything, was the moment everything came to me. i already had it, i just needed to stop telling myself i didn't.

it took me barely any time to get used to convincing myself i had everything i wanted, i shifted to my desired realities, and everything worked out in my favour. AFFIRMING IS ALL YOU NEED. I AM YELLING AT YOU. JUST AFFIRM.

really, please, affirm. the routine is so simple.

1. any bad thought is instantly turned positive.

ex: "i really want her waist"

to

"am i stupid ... i have her waist.. tbh mine even looks a little better.. am i crazy?? like actually? this must be a glitch or something cause my waist is practically identical to hers.. i literally love my waist"

exaggerate, say what you need to say to erase the negativity.

2. it's yours, so act like it..

ex: talk about ur DR normally. it's your reality, not a fantasy land you made up in a dream. ITS REAL. it's a reality. for example, i'd watch videos of my s/o in this reality, and speak about our lives in my dr. "i can't wait to see __ tonight... god i love __, it's so nice hanging out with them everyday.. wow they look so pretty in this video — i'm so lucky their mine". it's natural, they're yours aren't they? exactly, so act like it.. this is used the exact same way when manifesting..

you see someone with something you want? thinking of something you wanna do? something you wanna be? ... it's urs... so can you act like it?? like whyre u feeling sad someone else got a job promotion 😹😹 you literally got a better one ...

3. that's literally it

you don't need a fancy method (although it can give u some peace of mind.. let's be real, a lot of methods set y'all back and make you overwhelmed, blocking ur beliefs and making everything seem harder). you literally just need to live. tell yourself it's done, over and over again. nothing matters. it's done, it's yours, you have it, you're happy and fulfilled. other peoples sucess should really mean nothing to you negatively. it shouldn't make you stressed, shouldn't make you feel behind.. why would it when you have everything, you can do everything, go anywhere, and you can be anything.

it'll seem like manifesting blogs and shifting blogs just repeat the same things.. which is true, they do, because i'm telling you there's nothing more to it than what you've already read. it is that easy. all it takes is your mind. decide, and tell yourself.

as i said before, it took me barely anytime to switch my mindset once i actually started focusing on myself, my journey and not every body else's results. repeating stuff to yourself WORKS. repeating is literally ALL i did. choose what i want, told myself it's mine in any way i could describe it. and there, it's mine. ive shifted to many different realities, along side gaining a better life in this one after years of convincing myself there was nothing for me. if i can break out of the cycle, trust me you can too. i cannot describe how desperate i was at the beginning, how long i took in false info and wasted time on methods all while doubting every single thing.

so why don't you believe it? you'll sit there and tell yourself over and over again that you're ugly, or broke, or friendless... but you won't tell urself that you've shifted? that you have your dream body...? girl okay i guess....

once you realize nothing besides your mind truly matters, is when you'll be free with yourself. circumstances don't matter, past feelings don't matter, doubts don't matter, your mind is all you need.

yes this is just loa explained longer, that's the point of the post because some of u still can't get it in ur heads

[moonchild9350]

Still Life and Nude Surprises

Summary: you need to prep for an art show and sign up for a class for extra practice. the model you’re assigned however turns out to be someone you know very well.

Pairing: best friend!Felix x fab!reader

Genre: friends to lovers au, fluff, smut-18+MDNI

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: nude modeling, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, mention of overstimulation, clit play, unprotected sex (don't), creampie, implied multiple rounds

Notes: another fic from when I was feral sorry not sorry lol this was fun to write though and it’s Felix so…. lol

If you enjoyed please consider a like, reblog, or comment as it keeps me motivated ♡

Divider by @cafekitsune

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

"Hold still!"

You chastised the blonde who was at the moment wiggling around in his seat, his eyes focused on his computer screen as he blasted god knows what on the latest game he acquired.

"Y/n! Lemme just finish this round, then I'll do anything you say," he responded as he showed off his biggest pouty face.

You sighed, not being able to say no to that face. Felix smiled and went back to his game, his fingers tap tapping on the keyboard.

Felix is your best friend, he has been since you were neighbors as a kid. You've done everything together, from attending dances as each others dates, sleepovers as kids, endure heartbreaks, and even live within the same building as adults.

You couldn't live without him, your relationship going beyond your wildest dreams.

Now, you were trying to sketch your best friend as you were trying to improve your still life skills, preparing for an art show that you had signed up for. Everything was going well until he received a text from a gamer buddy, wanting to go for a round on a new game he recently started.

You set your sketch pad down and watched your friend as he scrunched his face in concentration, his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth as he shot down enemy after enemy. It was pretty humorous to watch, as everytime he missed his target he'd scream "noooo!" before concentrating once more.

You knew it was a lost cause, understanding once he started gaming, it would be hours until he would stop. You gathered up your stuff, packing it into your bag.

You got up and walked over to Felix, ruffling up his hair, obscuring his view of the computer screen.

"Y/n!" he exclaimed as he blew his hair out of his face, the strands framing his face haphazardly as a result.

"I'm gonna go home, it's getting late. I"ll see you later ok?"

Felix took a chance and looked away from the screen to you, "I'm sorry, I'm a horrible model."

You chuckled and slapped his arm, the boy yelping at the sting. "No you're not, you just get distracted easily."

You continued to laugh as you walked to his door, listening to Felix mutter under his breath something along the lines of "that's not true."

Closing his door, you walked the few doors down to your apartment, dropping your bag on the hallway table. You really did want to practice your skills as the show was getting closer day by day and you were banking on using Felix to start.

You grabbed your laptop and plopped on the couch, propping your feet on the table in front of you. Opening up the search engine, you began to look for classes that you could attend to help you practice.

You came across a particularly promising site, the company offering a variety of classes from group sessions to private ones. You clicked on the private session info bar, as the prospect of it just being you and the model seemed appealing.

You noticed they offered private nude modeling sessions as well, your eyebrow raising in interest. This would be the perfect opportunity to study the human body and to improve your skills on drawing it.

The company had a few sessions open over the next few days which would be perfect as you were free. You clicked on the time slot for tomorrow's private session, your mind running over the pros and cons.

You've never sketched anyone nude, the prospect seeming a little embarrassing to you, but how would you get better if you didn't step out of your comfort zone? Plus, these models were trained for this, and it was with a reputable company.

The cost of the class wasn't much either, definitely within your budget. You filled in your information, whatever they asked for. Once done, your hand hovered over the book button, as you considered what to do.

"Fuck it," you said, bringing your finger down to press book.

A confirmation page popped up saying your session was successfully booked and they'd see you tomorrow. You let out a breath and closed your laptop.

This was really going to happen. You wondered if you'd have a male or female model, noticing there was no option to choose. Shaking your head, you decided not to think about the session until the time came, opting to go in with a fresh and unbiased mind.

You went about the rest of your night, prepping everything you would need for tomorrow. Settling into bed you pulled the covers up to your chin.

You were ready for tomorrow and whatever it were to bring.

--

It was a beautiful day, the sun shining, the weather warm but not too hot. The walk to the art studio wasn't too far away, the building being within walking distance.

You were giddy with excitement, your anxieties gone about the details of the session. You texted Felix to let him know you would be occupied today and would be over later on. He didn't mind as he apparently had something to do as well.

You approached a chic building, the outer walls appearing old yet charming to fit the town. You opened the door and walked in, met with the scent only an art studio can provide, from the scents of paints to fresh canvases. The scent of coffee drifted in the air as well, as there was a fresh pot that seemed to have been brewed in the corner of the reception area.

You approached the front desk, greeting the worker behind it.

"Hi, my name is y/n, I'm booked for a private session at 10:30?"

The lady looked in a book on the desk, her manicured fingers running down the page to the appointed time. She tapped her fingers on the page, finding your name as expected.

"We have you all set, would you like to pay now?"

You nodded and pulled out your card. She took care of the payment and then smiled.

"Have a seat, someone will be with you shortly to take you to the studio."

"Thank you," you said, walking towards a comfy looking chair in the corner.

You sat down, cradling your bag to your side. The atmosphere was quiet, the occasional sound of chatter meeting your ears. You watched as people walked to and from, their focus on getting to their destination.

Not long after sitting down, a young woman appeared calling your name. You hurriedly grabbed your bag and walked towards her.

"Ready?" she asked with a smile.

"Absolutely," you responded as you followed the lady down the hall.

She stopped at a door, the placard reading studio eight. It was more secluded than the other studios, the room being near the back of the hall. The lady opened the door and stepped in, you following right behind her.

As you crossed the threshold, you took in the surroundings of the room. It wasn't too small but not too big. The walls were covered with sketches and paintings, portraying various body types. Each painting was beautiful, the artist capturing the details of the human body in intricate detail.

There was a ceiling to floor mirror along one wall, the whole room visible in its reflection. In the center of the room, there was a chair next to a series of boxes, linen draped over it to make a makeshift bed. You eyed the stool next to an easel, which you assumed is where you would be sitting.

"So, this is where your session will take place. You have this space for four hours. If you need assistance of any sort, just press this button here and one of the staff members will assist you."

You followed her hand as she pointed to a blue button next to the door. You nodded and faced the lady again, waiting for her to continue.

"You have opted for a nude model for your session correct?"

"Yes, I have," you replied, feeling your cheeks flush at her question.

"They will enter after I leave. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, you can ask them to robe again, they will not mind. I think that's all. Any questions?"

You shook your head no, as everything was pretty straight forward.

"Great! Go ahead and get settled, your model will be in shortly!"

You thanked the lady and walked over to the easel. Setting your bag down, you began to pull out your sketch book and various pencils, setting them up accordingly. You sat on the stool, crossing your legs as you waited for your model to arrive.

It didn't take long until a different door than you came in opened, a person stepping in within the room. It was a flurry of movement as they walked into the room with their head down.

"Sorry, I'm a little late," the person said in a deep voice.

Wait...you knew that voice. Shocked, your head snapped up to look more closely at the person. You couldn't believe it, that person was...

"Y/n?!"

"Felix?!"

Your model was Felix? Your best friend? What the fuck?!

You were confused and shocked. Felix seemed to be as well as he stared at you with his mouth wide open.

You eyed your friend who was prepped in a white robe, the material seeming soft and cozy on his skin. His long hair was in a ponytail, framed away from his face, his numerous freckles on display.

"What are you doing here?" you asked in disbelief.

"I could ask you the same thing," Felix responded as he came closer to you.

"I uh...I signed up for a class to work on my skills since you know..." you said, your voice trailing off at the end.

The atmosphere was tense, neither one of you knowing what to do. You never expected to see your best friend here, especially since he never mentioned he modeled for an art studio...nude at that.

Felix nodded at your response, "I work here as a side gig...make some extra cash you know?"

You nodded, accepting his answer.

"Why did you never tell me you did this?" you inquired, curiosity getting the best of you.

Felix fiddled with the strap of his robe, his gaze anywhere but yours. After a moment he cleared his throat.

"Well, I thought you'd find it weird. I mean I'm naked in front of people and they draw me in the nude. How would I bring that up with you?"

He had a point. That would definitely make for an interesting conversation. Now the question becomes do you go on with the session? Sketch your best friend nude? You could make him keep the robe on.

"Do you...do you still want to proceed with this?" Felix asked, his hands gesturing toward the makeshift bed in the center of the room.

"I'm ok if you are," you said shrugging.

Felix cleared his throat, surprised at your answer. Recovering quickly, he said, "Of course."

You nodded and watched as he padded toward the bed, stopping in front of it for a moment. His hands went to the strap of his robe, his fingers fiddling with the knot before he stopped.

"You ok with sketching me nude?"

"Yes Lix, I've seen you naked before."

You really have and with years of being best friends, it was bound to happen.

Felix nodded before he grasped the strap again, this time untying the knot.

You watched as the knot fell away, the straps now dangling at his side. He brought his hands up, to grab the soft material and slide it off his shoulders. With a flurry of movement, he let the robe fall, the fabric pooling at his feet.

You gasped, your eyes glued to your best friend as he stood in the center of the room, his back to you. Taking the chance, your eyes roamed his back, taking in his muscular frame, down to his lithe waist, which you've always admired. You smirked at seeing his ass wanting to reach out and smack it.

Felix took a deep breath and slowly turned around to face you. You watched with bated breath as he now stood facing you, his eyes on yours.

Your eyes drifted down his torso, eyeing his nipples, the pinkish-brown buds perky in the cold room. You eyed him further down, down, down until you came to his pelvis, a happy trail of hair leading down to his cock.

You subconsciously licked your lips, your eyes glued to his soft cock lying amongst a smattering of hair, his balls hanging nice and delicate. You couldn't help but admire his cock, wondering how it would feel in your hands, how it would feel...

"Earth to y/n! My eyes are up here pervert!" Felix exclaimed while snapping his fingers to get your attention.

You snapped your eyes up to his face, feeling your cheeks flush in embarrassment. You definitely were just checking out your best friend, the feeling in your panties a little more wet than when you came in.

You cleared your throat and gestured toward the bed, "Umm, wanna get started?"

Felix nodded, "How do you want me?"

"You can just lounge on the bed for now."

Felix nodded again and sat on the bed, swinging his legs up to rest on the linens. You walked over to your best friend and stopped in front of him, your hands reached out. You hesitated for a moment, looking into his eyes asking silent permission to touch him.

"Go ahead, position me how you want," Felix chuckled.

You took his hand in yours and draped it across his face, his fingers dangling delicately on the side of his cheeks. You angled his head to look toward where you would be sitting. You looked at his legs, taking a breath before propping one of his legs up.

Once finished, you quickly took a step back, eyeing your work. Satisfied, you sat down on your stool and grabbed your sketch book.

You picked up a pencil and began to sketch, easily getting lost in your work. You looked up at Felix every now and then, to get some details solidified in your head before you translated it onto paper.

It was silent in the room, neither one of you speaking. It was not as awkward as you thought it would be, but rather comforting.

Time passed and you got more of your sketch done, the outline being nearly complete.

Felix was staring at you, watching your hands dance across the page, sketching his frame. He couldn't take his eyes off of you, admiring how you got lost in your work, that not even your best friend posing naked for you can distract you.

He loved how you let out a small smile when you got a detail just right or how you scrunched up your face and bit your lip when something did not seem right.

You were beautiful, that he couldn't deny and you were even more beautiful in this moment, sitting on a stool in an art studio underneath the dim lights.

Felix started to feel warm, despite laying right under the air conditioner, the feeling spreading down his belly and settling at his cock. He could feel the blood slowly fill out his cock, the appendage slightly harder than before, laying haphazardly against his pelvis.

He willed himself to breath, to cool down, not wanting you to see the effect you have on him. He could never live that down. He tried to look everywhere but your face, especially when your head was down. But to no avail, the feeling increased, his cock twitching slightly in response.

You looked up at your friend to get another look at his torso for shading the area on your sketch, but froze at what you saw. Felix seemed to be in turmoil, his breath shaky, his eyes darting everywhere around the room.

Your eyes traveled to his cock, noticing how it seemed to have hardened some since you last took a look at him. You thought you would feel embarrassed, however, you felt quite the opposite.

You lingered on his cock a little longer, a a pleasurable shock traveling down your body and straight to your core. You pressed your thighs together in response, feeling your slick slowly seep into your panties.

You cleared your throat and went back to your sketch, not wanting Felix to catch you staring, not let him know that you were aware he was hard while you sketched him.

Felix was turned on, that was the brunt of it. He tried to stop his reaction to you, but he just couldn't do it. He felt his cock hardened until it stood fully at attention, the tip pressing up against his pelvis.

It was torture laying there, only a few feet away from you, his cock so hard it was starting to hurt. He wanted to touch himself, relieve the ache, and maybe just maybe you could help him out too.

He watched as you lifted your head up once more, gasping at the state of him.

You were in shock, noticing now that Felix's cock was fully hard, the member seeming angry and red at the lack of attention it received. You could see something shiny glistening on the hairs littering his pelvis. You watched as a drop of pre-cum oozed from his tip, the liquid dripping down his shaft until it reached the hairs, getting caught in the thickness.

Looking at Felix's face, you could tell he was miserable, as he breathing was shallow and he was clenching and unclenching his hands. You knew he wanted to touch himself to relieve himself of the ache he was feeling.

"Felix?" you questioned, your eyes reaching his. "Do you wanna touch yourself?"

Felix's eyes widened at the question, disbelief written on his face.

"I'm..I'm sorry y/n, I just couldn't help it," he stuttered, lowering his eyes in embarrassment.

"It's ok," you responded with a smile. "You can touch yourself, make yourself feel good. I'll continue to sketch."

Felix stared at you for a moment more before he took his other hand that was at his side and placed it on his chest.

You watched as he gripped his aching cock and gave it a squeeze as he moaned lowly. He shifted his hand upwards, his thumb pressing on his slit before gathering up some of the leaking pre-cum.

He began to stroke his cock, steady but slowly, his fist reaching the base just to travel back up and circle around the head. Felix kept eye contact with you, your sketching forgotten, as you took to watching your best friend pleasure himself.

He increased the speed of his wrist movement, wet sounds from the aid of his precum filling the room. With each moan he let out, you felt your pussy clench over nothing. You were soaking wet, your panties stuck to your skin by now, your clit throbbing to be touched.

"Y/n," Felix said, his voice raspy as he continued to stroke his cock. "Can you touch yourself? Pleasure yourself for me?"

You looked into Felix's pleading eyes, watching as he licked his lips and swallowed. You didn't give a moments thought at your friend's request, instead ridding yourself of your leggings.

You stood before Felix, your fingers going to the band of your panties. You watched Felix's eyes drag to the piece of cloth, his eyes widening at the wet patch present on your panties, the material sticking to your skin, leaving nothing to the imagination as the outline of your lips could be seen.

You slowly slid your panties down your legs and set them aside. Felix let out a groan at the sight of your pussy, his cock twitching in his hand.

You sat back down on the stool and spread your legs, your wet folds separating to show him your entrance. He kept his eyes glued to your pussy as you brought a finger to your clit, flicking the bud and the rubbing it gently.

You sighed out as you dipped a finger lower into your hole, gathering your slick that was pooling there before bringing it back to your clit. You circled it gently, applying the slightest pressure, a jolt of pleasure causing your pussy to clench.

Time passed as you both sat there, eyes on each other as you pleasured yourself, the room filled with wet sounds and the mix of both of your moans.

You matched Felix's pace as he stroked his cock, harder and faster, his hips bucking up into his hands. You let out a whimper as you felt the tightening within your belly, the coil tightening, filling your core with warmth.

"Felix, m'close," you moaned as your fingers slipped and slid around your clit, your pussy getting wetter by the minute.

"Yeah? Cum for me? Will you cum for me like a good girl?" Felix cooed. "I'm close too, fuck."

Your breathing increased as the coil expanded in your belly, the feeling getting larger and larger until you tipped over the edge, your walls spasming, clenching down rhythmically as you rode out your high.

You didn't stop rubbing your clit, watching as Felix let out a groan as he bucked his hips, spurts of cum landing on his belly creating a painting with its pearly white sheen.

You pulled your hand away, the feeling of overstimulation settling in. You looked at your best friend, both of you breathing hard as you came down from your highs.

You chuckled as you noticed Felix was pretty much in the same position you put him in, his resolve at staying true to his role admirable.

"You um...you can keep sketching if you'd like," Felix said, his voice soft with uncertainty.

"We literally just got off together and you want me to continue sketching?" you asked incredulously as you cocked your eyebrow.

Felix cleared his throat, his body slighly shifting on the makeshift bed causing his softened cock to jiggle.

"Well...yeah, you paid and all..."

You stared at your best friend in disbelief. You hated that he had a point, you did pay a pretty sum to be here today. But here you were, nude from the waist down, your nether region a mess. You sighed and picked up your pencil, moving your hand to start sketching again.

There was silence once more as you got into the zone, focusing on shading in your sketch. You began to hum to yourself, adjusting yourself sligthly on the stool.

Felix returned to staring at you, watching you get lost in your work. He tried not to remember that you were naked waist down, your pussy seconds away from being on display if you decided to open your legs.

The thought caused arousal to seep through his body once more. He cursed silently as he felt his cock twitch. Why does he have to be turned on by you? He's never had this reaction before for any other client.

Maybe it was because they were strangers, people he didn't know, while you were his best friend, his life line.

He couldn't help it as his thoughts wandered, wondering how you would feel wrapped around him. He wondered how you would sound as he pounded into you, making you feel better than any of your little flings ever could.

He peeked down to look at his lower half as he silently groaned noticing his cock was fully hardened, resting against his belly once more.

You looked up to gather reference and noticed Felix's cock was hard, more of his precum leaking out and onto his belly. You squeezed your thighs together at the sight as your tongue darted out and licked your lips.

"Fuck this," you said, tossing your sketch book to the side.

You stood up and walked towards Felix, lifting your shirt up and over your head in the process. You unclasped your bra and let it fall to the floor, your tits spilling out and on view for your friend.

Felix scrambled up quickly and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you toward him until you stood right in front of his face. He grasped your waist and smashed his lips to yours, letting out a moan as your lips moved with his.

Your hand reached down to grasp his cock, giving it a squeeze. Felix moaned against your lips, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips.

"Can I fuck you y/n?" Felix asked with hope in his eyes.

You've both come this far, why stop now you thought.

"Sure," you agreed as more arousal gushed out of your pussy and onto your thighs at the thought of his cock filling you up.

Felix helped maneuver you onto the makeshift bed as he hovered above you. He spread your legs and pushed them upwards, giving him a clear view of your wet pussy, your slick coating your folds and dripping down your ass.

He brought his thumb down to press against your swollen clit that was peeking through your folds. You let out a whine at the sensation, your pussy clenching around nothing.

"I've waited for this moment for a long time y/n," Felix said, his eyes lifting up to your face.

"Me too," you confessed, your heart swelling at the thought that you both have liked each other probably for years.

He really was your person, your everything, and you would love nothing more than to give yourself fully to him.

Felix smiled down at you before swiping his finger over your clit again, watching as you wiggled your hips at his touch.

"I'm gonna give you my cock now," he grunted, grasping the appendage at the base.

He rubbed his cock through your folds, collecting your slick before pressing against your entrance, his eyes glued to how his head disappeared within your hole.

You mewled as he withdrew his cock just to press into your entrance again as he fucked you with just the tip.

"Felix, please," you whimpered, holding your legs open even more.

"Want my cock hm?" Felix asked, his eyes on yours. He watched as your mouth hung open, soft moans falling out as he teased you, spreading your folds open with just his head.

He was faring no better as he felt a shutter run through him, every time he sunk his tip within your warmth.

"Fuck me," you commanded, your eyes snapping open and staring Felix down.

You reached for his cock, your hand wrapping around the shaft. You wiggled your hips attempting to take more of his cock, ignoring how Felix was laughing at you.

"Ok, ok, don't get your panties in a twist," Felix chuckled. "Oh wait, you lost those hours ago, so desperate for my cock y/n."

Without any other warning, he slammed his hips into yours with a groan, sinking his length within your walls until bottomed out.

"Fuck, so warm and tight," he grunted as he began to thrust his hips into yours, withdrawing his cock just until he was all the way out and pushing back in.

You pussy clenched around him, the feeling of his cock stretching you out causing waves of pleasure to settle in your pelvis.

Felix grasped your legs, pushing them further to your chest as he pummeled his hips to yours, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with each thrust. He couldn't believe how tight you were, how your walls molded around his cock perfectly, like you were made for him.

His moans mingled with yours, as you both chased your highs. Felix licked his fingers and brought them back down to your clit, the digits slipping and sliding along the nub, causing shocks of pleasure to wreck your frame.

"Shit, I'm close, gonna cum. Can I come inside?" Felix panted, his thrusts becoming more erratic.

"Please, need your cum!" you whimpered as your pussy contracted at the thought of his cum within you.

Felix slammed his hips into yours once more before stilling, ropes of his cum flooding your walls.

"That's it, take my cum," Felix cooed as he continued to finger your clit.

You let out a loud moan as you came, your arousal seeping out of your pussy, coating Felix's cock as he thrusted his hips into yours a few more times to help you ride out your high.

Felix peered down at you, his eyes searching yours as you panted, your hands running down your body. He slowly withdrew his softening cock, his eyes glued to how his cum leaked out of your pussy, a smile gracing his face.

He leaned down to press a kiss on your lips once more as he whispered "I love you."

You carded your fingers through his hair, eagerly returning the kiss.

"And I love you Felix," you cooed.

You both laid there a little longer, exchanging soft kisses, neither one of you in a rush to move.

After a while, Felix perked up, mischief in his eyes.

"Wanna keep sketching? You still have another hour."

You smirked at the suggestion, knowing exactly where it will lead, and that was definitely ok with you.

"Sure thing, let's go for another round," you teased with a grin.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght

[menagerofmischief]

shrimp cocktail, cold appetizer, lobster, coca-cola, yes dessert, served by oscar piastri

Dia's Diner Menu

shrimp cocktail rivals to lovers cold appetizer rough sex lobster "I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy" coca-cola somnophillia dessert aftercare

Oscar Piastri x Ferrari!driver!reader

TW: one bed trope, unprotected sex (wrap you willy please), sleep dry humping

WC: 2k

A/N: I enjoyed writing this one a lot. Also I wanted to say I'm so thankful to all of you that sent requests and that I can't wait to write all of them but you'll maybe have to be patient with me because I'm a student and am pretty busy with school. I hope y'all are gonna enjoy this one.

Some bigger force, God or karma or fate or whatever else there is, was definitely out to get me. Because this had to be the worst fucking night of my life. I’m not being dramatic when I say that.

Why was this the worst night of my life?

We just made it to Singapore for the upcoming Grand Prix and went straight to our hotel. The whole grid was staying at the same place since it made things more convenient. I go up to the reception to check in and get the key to my room, all but ready to collapse into the mattress and sleep the jet lag off. 

“I’m so sorry Miss,” the receptionist says, tapping her fingers against the keyboard, glancing up at me every few seconds. Finally she looks up, her expression apologetic. “It seems there was a mistake with the booking and we double booked your room.”

I fight off the urge to groan and roll my eyes, instead plastering a smile on my face. “It’s fine, it’s not that big of a deal. Just put me in whatever room is available.”

She makes a face, looking down at the computer again and then returning her gaze to mine. “I really am sorry but there are no other rooms available right now.”

Now I really did groan. “Fantastic. Can I know who the other person occupying the room will be?”

Before the receptionist had the chance to answer, my worst nightmare in human form came up to the desk, standing right next to me. “Hello. I’m here to check in - it’s under Oscar Piastri.”

The woman - I finally glanced at her name tag, seeing her name was Alice - looked between us, then down at the computer before looking at us again. “Sir, as I was just explaining to the lady here, the hotel double booked your room by accident.”

“It’s fine just put me in a -”

“There’s no available rooms.” I cut him off. “Just the one.”

Oscar looked at me, narrowing his eyes. McLaren’s golden boy, affectionately nicknamed ‘the polite cat’ by the fans was the biggest thorn in my side for a long while now. Everything started back in F2 with our on track rivalry which grew with each race. Then I signed into F1, fulfilling my childhood dreams of racing in red and thought I escaped him. I thought too soon apparently because after my announcement post, his followed soon and I was once again back on track with him.

Did I have a reason to hate him? Absolutely! Was it awfully petty and possibly over-dramatic? Very likely. It was my first race in F2, I was about to finish P2 it was amazing. Then he crashed into me and drove us both into the wall, causing us both to DNF and lose out on a podium.

We have hated each other ever since.

“It’s okay - we’ll share.” Oscar’s voice brought me out of my thoughts, quickly turning my head to look at him.

“What!?”

Oscar took the key from Alice and dangled it in front of me, a smirk on his face. “I said we’re gonna be bunking.” He pulled the handle of his suitcase, “Come on then, Y/n”

✿ ✿ ✿

“You stay on your side of the room,” I said, putting the chair in the middle of the room to make it a half marker. “And I’ll stay on mine.” The one queen size bed would definitely be a problem as well, but one I would mention later.

“And how are you gonna go the bathroom since it’s on my side?” He asked, his voice holding a teasing tone.

“Bathroom if free ground, hallway too” I stated, crossing my arms over my chest.

Oscar’s gaze dropped down, stayed for a few seconds and then his eyes met mine again. He hummed, “And if I wanna open the window then what? Since it’s on your side.”

“Don’t act smart,” I told him. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“You wound me!” He gasped, pressing a hand over his heart.

“Shame it’s not fatal.”

✿ ✿ ✿

This was definitely the weirdest night of my life.

With only one bed in the room, no couch and neither of us willing to put our body in uncomfortable positions sleeping on the chair or on the floor, night before practice - Oscar and I made an agreement to share the bed.

One of the extra blankets from the closet was bunched up and put down the middle of the bed separating the two us. Not that it served much purpose considering that it was kicked down and off the bed while we were sleeping.

I woke up, rubbing my eyes to adjust to the dark and then I felt it. The slow, yet desperately feral rolls, the pressure and the pleasure. I had to press a hand against my mouth to stop myself from moaning, taking in deep harsh breaths through my nose.

I came to a realization about three things, so goes:

Oscar had moved a bigger part of his body onto my side of the bed.

He had pulled me close and caged me in his arms sometimes during the night.

He was grinding his very much hard cock into me -  in his sleep.

My cheeks were on fire and it felt like the rest of my body was too. The pajamas, which I purposely picked out because of how light they were, felt suffocating now.

I didn’t even realize what I was doing until it was done, my body moving on its own. One leg pushing slightly forward, opening just enough space for Oscar’s hips to chase mine and my ass slowly barely grinding back into him.

I was enjoying this much more than I should have and it was wrong. God, it was so wrong. But when his erection was rubbing so perfectly against me, I couldn’t bring myself to care.

I was wet, I knew I was. I could feel how soaked my panties had gotten and the uncomfortable feel of my slick underwear did not escape me. As the pressure increased I couldn’t help but let out a moan.

The noise felt deafening in the silent room and my eyes widened. Oscar’s body stilled and my breath caught in my throat, the dread of having woken him with my moans taking over me.

A moment passed, two moments passed. Then Oscar’s hands tightened around my body, pulling me even closer to him, my ass pressed just against the outline of his dick. One of his hands moved down my stomach, dipping into the waistband of my sleeping shorts and going straight down into my panties.

He ran a finger through my folds, coating it in my slick and it took everything in me not to moan. “You’re fucking dripping,” his voice in my ear made me freeze. Awake afterall. “This wet from me humping you? And here I thought you hated me.”

The pad of his finger touched my clit, a gasp falling from my lips at the pleasurable feeling. “Did you enjoy me rutting into you while I was sleeping, you dirty dirty girl?” He added more pressure, rubbing circles on my clit and this time I didn’t hold my moans back. “Woke up halfway through, when you started grinding your ass on me like a bitch in heat. You seemed so into it, I thought I’d just keep going.”

“Wasn’t,” I whispered.

“What was that?” He growled into my ear.

“Wasn’t grinding on you,” I said, through gritted teeth.

His fingers pinched my clit and my whole body surged forward, mouth falling open to let out a loud moan. “Don’t lie,” he said, the tone of his voice leaving no room for argument.

“Fuck you.”

“Oh don’t worry sweetheart, you will.”

Oscar pulled his fingers out of my panties, making me whine at the loss of friction on my clit. His chuckle vibrated through the room. He got up onto his knees on the bed, arms coming forward to grab my shoulders, and pulled me roughly so I was laying on my back.

I couldn’t help but look at him above me. His eyes were full of lust, pupils blown wide and cheeks red. As much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself, he looked absolutely ethereal. 

“Tell me to stop,” he said, fingers hooking into the waistband of my sleeping shorts.

I held his gaze, a shaky breath falling from my mouth. “Don’t stop.”

In one move he pulled down both my shorts and my panties, throwing them behind him without a care. Then he took off his own shorts, followed by his boxers - that ended up being thrown somewhere too. He pulled me up enough to take my top off, and then pushed me down again, leaving me completely bare. 

Oscar leaned over me, his mouth drawn in a smirk, his breath hot on my face. “Tell me not to kiss you.”

“Kiss me,” I whispered. He didn’t waste a second, as soon as the words were out of my mouth he was surging forward, his lips pressing harshly against mine, tongue pushing into my mouth. He pulled slightly back, my lip caught before his teeth and he gently bit down, making me whine into his mouth.

“Fuck me,” I panted into his mouth. “Please just -”

I didn’t get to finish what I was saying as he pushed himself into me fully in one go, making me scream. His hand pressed against my mouth, muffling the noises I was making. “Do you want to wake the whole hotel up?” He asked as he began thrusting, pulling himself out until only the tic was still in me and then forcefully pushing back in again. “Some people came here to sleep, not to listen to you moaning like a whore on my cock.”

His other hand went between us to rub my clit. I was practically sobbing as he worked his fingers in fast circles around my clit while roughly thrusting into me. My vision was blurred with tears that were spilling from the corners on my eyes.

Oscar’s hand moved only a little, leaving room for me to speak but close enough for my lips to brush against his palm with each word. “Cum,” I babbled. “Gonna cum! Oscar, please!”

“Yeah?” He asked, his voice hoarse. “Gonna cum for me like a good little slut? Go on then - cum”

I came with a moan, wrapping my legs around his waist and caging him in. Oscar fucked me trough my orgasm, his own following. He twitched inside of me before cumming, painting my walls and making me whine at how full I felt.

He pulled out of me slowly and went to the bathroom to clean himself up. After a moment he returned with a wet, probably warm, towel in his hands. He kneeled on the bed and gently spread my legs with his hands.

“Fuck,” Oscar groaned. “I love watching my cum leak out of your pussy.” His fingers dipped to collect some of his cum which had spilled out of me and was slowly dripping towards my ass, and pushed it back into me, causing me to gasp.

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on my forehead and somehow my cheeks burned ever hotter. After he gently cleaned me up and terrorized me to drink water, he laid down in bed next to me and pulled my body into his, arms wrapping around me.

“Are you finally going to let me take you out to dinner?” He asked, his voice husky and breath hot against the side of my face.

I hummed, my eyes barely open and already feeling sleepy. “Don’t crash into me while I’m winning on Sunday and we’ll see.”

“That was one time!”

I chuckled, placing my hands over his hand on my stomach. “Yeah, I’ll let you take me out to dinner.”

Believe it or not this might have actually turned out to be one of the best nights of my life.

[novaursa]

Where Banners Fall

- Summary: After your fall at Rook’s Rest, Gwayne takes you to safety and some hidden things come to light.

- Paring: targ!reader/Gwayne Hightower

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is Rhaenyra's sister and bonded with Silverwing. This part continues just after The Flames We Carry. For all parts done in chronological order visit my blog, the list is pinned to the top.

-Rating: Mild 13+

- Word count: 3 320

- A/N: Yeah, this one was not ment to come out today either, but you all liked the last part very much, so, here is the continuation of it. Enjoy! ❤️

- Tag(s): @deniixlovezelda @duck-duck-goose2 @aadu2173 @sachaa-ff

The moon casts its pale light through the dense trees, illuminating the night in a silvery glow. The wind is cold, biting through layers of bloodied cloth, as Gwayne Hightower clutches the reins with one hand and his side with the other. His breath comes ragged, each inhalation a struggle as the gash Cole delivered sends jolts of fire down his side. But none of it matters, not when your life is in his hands. 

You lie slumped against his chest, your skin far too pale, and your breaths shallow, rattling with a sound that tears at his heart. Blood streaks your face, staining your lips, a crimson trail leaking from your nose. The fall from Silverwing... gods, he can still hear the roar of dragons and the sickening crunch of bones as you hit the ground. He couldn't—wouldn’t—leave you there, even if it meant betraying everything he'd ever known.

He halts the horse in the shadow of a large oak tree and dismounts with a groan, one arm wrapped protectively around his wounded side. The pain lances through him, nearly buckling his legs, but he grits his teeth and turns to you, his gaze softening despite the turmoil raging within.

"Y/N," he whispers, barely able to speak your name without his voice cracking. Carefully, he lifts you from the saddle, feeling your weight crumple against him, your head lolling against his shoulder. His fingers tremble as he lays you down gently on the mossy ground. You are so still, too still. 

He kneels beside you, brushing damp strands of hair from your face. "Open your eyes. Just... look at me, Y/N." His voice is hoarse, almost pleading. His hands, stained with blood—your blood, his blood—ghost over your cheeks, checking for any signs of life. 

Your eyelids flutter, and a soft moan escapes your lips, causing his heart to lurch with both relief and anguish. "Gwayne?" you murmur, your voice barely more than a whisper. Each word seems to sap what little strength you have left.

"I'm here. I won’t leave you, I promise," he assures you, his voice steady though it takes everything in him to keep it that way. He cups your face in his hand, thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. "You're safe now."

Tears prick his eyes as he sees the pain etched across your features. It’s a stark reminder that you’re not just his princess, the sister of Rhaenyra, daughter of Viserys—you’re the woman who’s owned his heart for years, even if it was a tragic love and often denied.

"You shouldn’t have come back for me," you rasp, your breath hitching in pain. "They’ll kill you…"

"Let them," Gwayne says with a fierce intensity, voice raw with emotion. "If it meant keeping you alive, I’d suffer any fate they decide." He swallows, lowering his head so his forehead rests against yours. "But I couldn’t let you die back there. Not you."

Your eyes fill with tears, but your smile is faint and tinged with regret. "Foolish knight. Always so stubborn."

He chuckles softly, though the sound is strained. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I’ve finally done something right, if it means keeping you with me just a little longer."

You cough weakly, and the sound sends a fresh surge of panic through him. Blood dribbles from the corner of your mouth, and his heart twists at the sight. Desperation claws at him, urging him to do something, anything to ease your suffering, but he knows there’s little he can do out here in the wilderness with no healer, no herbs, nothing but his own two hands.

"I need to make camp," he says gently, brushing his thumb across your cheek one last time before he stands. "We’ll rest here. I’ll tend to you as best I can."

You try to protest, your voice faint. "You’re injured too… I can see the blood. You’ll bleed out if you—"

"Shh." His tone is soft but firm, silencing your concern. "You’re more important to me than any wound I bear." 

He gathers what little strength he has left and begins preparing a makeshift camp, struggling to keep his movements swift despite the burning pain in his side. He lights a small fire, the flickering flames casting shadows over your pale features. Every time he glances at you, his chest tightens with fear that he’ll lose you before the dawn.

Finally, when he’s done, he returns to your side, wrapping his cloak around your trembling form. He cradles you gently in his lap, pressing you close to share what warmth he can offer.

You turn your head weakly to look at him, tears brimming in your eyes. "Gwayne… if I don’t—"

"No," he interrupts, his voice sharp, as if the very idea of you leaving him is unbearable. "You’ll live, Y/N. We’ve both been through too much for it to end here."

There’s a long silence, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the distant sound of night creatures. You rest your head against his chest, finding comfort in the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath the layers of armor and cloth. Despite everything, the world seems a little less terrifying with him holding you like this.

"Thank you," you murmur softly, your fingers curling weakly against his tunic. "For saving me… for staying."

"Always," he whispers, tightening his hold on you, as if afraid you’ll slip away. "For you, I would defy the world."

His words are heavy with truth. He betrayed Cole, risked everything—his loyalty, his honor, his House—because nothing mattered more than you. As he watches your eyelids grow heavy with exhaustion, he swears to himself that he’ll see you through this, no matter the cost.

The night wears on, and as the fire crackles and the stars glimmer overhead, he keeps vigil, his thoughts solely on you. In the stillness of the night, there is only the two of you, bound by fate, by the shared loss and love that lingers unspoken between every touch, every look.

And as sleep finally claims you, Gwayne brushes a tender kiss to your brow, whispering the words he’s held back for far too long.

"I love you, Y/N."

The admission hangs in the air, soft and fragile like a promise yet to be fulfilled. But as the night deepens, with you in his arms and the world beyond fading into the distance, it is a vow he clings to with all his heart.

The first rays of dawn filter through the dense canopy of trees, casting dappled patterns of golden light over your face. The chill of the night still lingers in the air, but warmth gradually spreads as the sun climbs higher. Gwayne Hightower stirs awake, the dull ache in his side reminding him of the wound that still bleeds sluggishly beneath layers of makeshift bandages. But the pain is forgotten the moment he notices your chest rise and fall in steady rhythm. You’re alive. You’re breathing.

For a fleeting moment, all his worries and fears dissolve as he watches you. Your skin is still too pale, your breathing shallow, but your lips are no longer tinged with the blue pallor of death. When your eyes flutter open, hazy and unfocused at first, he releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“Gwayne?” Your voice is soft, laced with confusion and pain, but it’s enough to make his heart soar.

“I’m here.” He shifts closer, gently brushing his hand over your forehead, smoothing away a few stray strands of hair. His touch is tender, reassuring, but there’s an edge of desperation to it, as if touching you is the only way he can convince himself you’re still with him. “You’re safe.”

You close your eyes briefly, a tear slipping down your cheek as you whisper, “Silverwing… she’s gone, isn’t she?”

Gwayne’s throat tightens, and he struggles to find the words. He knows how deep the bond is between a rider and their dragon, knows how it must feel like losing a piece of your soul. “She saved you, Y/N. She fought until the very end to protect you.”

A sob escapes your lips, but it’s weak, more of a trembling breath than anything. You turn your face into his chest, seeking solace in his embrace. “She was everything to me. I felt her… I felt her fear when they descended on us. She tried, Gwayne… she tried so hard.”

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you grieve. “I know,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “She was brave, just like you.”

For a long moment, he just holds you, letting the silence settle between you, broken only by the faint sounds of the waking forest. His thoughts, however, race. He knows they can’t stay here. His nephews’ banners surround them from every side, and it’s only a matter of time before scouts or patrols find them. He can’t risk it, not with you in this condition.

“We need to get you to Dragonstone,” he finally says, his voice low but determined. “To Rhaenyra. She’ll know how to keep you safe.”

You nod faintly against his chest, but your eyes are distant, as if lost in some faraway memory. “Dragonstone… where our son is.”

The words come so softly that at first, Gwayne thinks he’s misheard. His heart stutters, the blood draining from his face as he pulls back slightly to look at you. “What did you say?”

You blink slowly, your eyes glazed with exhaustion and pain, but there’s a haunted look in them now. “Our son… I can’t… I can’t lose him too.”

The world tilts beneath Gwayne’s feet. He stares at you, trying to make sense of what you’ve just said. “Y/N… what do you mean, our son?”

You swallow, the effort seeming to drain you. “He’s ours, Gwayne. He… he was born after… after everything. After Daemon took me.”

His chest tightens, shock mingling with something deeper, more painful. He had always known you were taken by Daemon, given to him as part of the political machinations he could never fully understand years ago. It was a decision that had shattered him at the time, but hearing this now—knowing you bore his child in secret—rips at old wounds, laying them bare.

“A son…” The words are a whisper, disbelief and awe warring in his voice. “You kept him hidden from me?”

Tears brim in your eyes again, your voice breaking. “I had no choice. Daemon… he knew the child wasn’t his. He claimed him, raised him as his own, but he’s ours, Gwayne. He’s our flesh and blood.”

Gwayne’s heart pounds in his chest, a maelstrom of emotions swirling within him—anger, sorrow, guilt, and an overwhelming sense of loss. “All this time… I never knew.”

“I wanted to tell you, but it was too dangerous,” you confess, your voice trembling. “I thought… I thought it was better if you didn’t know. To keep you safe from Daemon’s wrath.”

Gwayne’s world narrows to this moment, to the truth of a child he never knew he had, one who’s been raised by a man who has always been his rival in more ways than one. The thought of Daemon laying claim to something so precious to him—it ignites a rage deep in his chest, but it’s tempered by the sheer anguish on your face.

He tightens his grip on you, pulling you into him as if holding you closer will somehow mend the broken pieces of the life you might have had together. “We’ll get him back,” he vows, voice low and fierce. “You and I—we’ll go to Dragonstone. To your sister. To our son. I won’t let Daemon keep what’s ours.” 

The thought makes his blood run cold, but for you, he’d face even that man.

You look up at him, your gaze searching his, and for a moment, you’re not the princess caught in the bloody web of war and dragons—you’re just a woman looking at the man you love, hoping against hope that he can keep the promise he’s just made. “I’ve missed him so much,” you whisper. “And I’ve missed you.”

Gwayne’s breath hitches, and for the first time in what feels like an eternity, he allows himself to hold you as if you’re the only thing that matters. “I’m here now,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering there. “And I’m not going anywhere without you. We’ll get through this.”

The resolve in his words steadies the both of you. There’s a long road ahead, fraught with dangers and uncertainties, but he knows with unwavering certainty that he won’t let anything tear you away from him again—not the war, not his family’s betrayal, and not even Daemon’s machinations.

You’ve lost so much—your dragon, your freedom, your soul—but in this moment, you find a glimmer of hope in the man who’s risked everything for you. And as the morning sun rises, casting light on the uncertain path ahead, you cling to that hope, knowing that Gwayne will do whatever it takes to bring you home—to your sister, to your son, and to the life you both deserve.

Together, you’ll reclaim what’s been taken. And together, you’ll face whatever comes next.

The rhythmic pounding of hooves on uneven ground fills the tense silence between you and Gwayne as he guides the horse deeper into the wilderness. Morning light filters through the trees in shifting patterns, but it does little to ease the weight pressing on Gwayne’s chest. His mind churns, cycling through the revelation you just laid bare—a son. His son. Every heartbeat seems to echo with the implications, each thump a reminder of the child who was taken from him, raised by a man Gwayne both loathes and fears.

He clenches the reins tighter, trying to steady his thoughts as they race uncontrollably. A son. His thoughts circle back to it, gnawing at him like an itch he can’t scratch. What is the boy like? What does he look like? The questions burn in his throat, but the uncertainty of what comes next gnaws at him even more. Daemon, he thinks bitterly, the name sour on his tongue. The prince’s shadow looms over everything now, twisting this newfound truth into something almost unbearable.

But he can’t afford to let his emotions take control. Not now. You’re still weak, clinging to consciousness by a thread. The ride is perilous, the terrain rough, and every jolt of the horse draws a faint whimper from your lips. Each sound slices through him like a blade, a reminder that you’re slipping further away with every mile. His instinct is to press forward, to ride hard and fast to the nearest settlement that might offer help, but every harsh movement risks worsening your condition.

He takes a deep breath and glances down at you, leaning back against his chest, your eyes half-lidded in a haze of pain. "Y/N," he calls gently, hoping to draw you back to him, even if only for a few moments. "Stay with me. I need you to stay with me."

You stir slightly, your eyelids fluttering as you try to focus. Your breaths are labored, each one a struggle, but the sound of his voice seems to anchor you in the present.

"I’m here," you whisper, though your voice is faint and distant, almost as if you’re speaking from another world. "Just… so tired."

Gwayne swallows the lump in his throat, trying to push through the fear gnawing at him. He needs answers, needs to understand what you’ve been through, what he’s been through, if he’s going to piece together a plan that might save you both. "You spoke of our son… before," he says carefully, his voice low, as if afraid to disturb the fragile balance of reality. "Tell me about him, Y/N. I need to know."

Your gaze drifts upward, unfocused, as if you’re looking at something beyond his reach. A faint smile tugs at your lips, though it’s tinged with sadness. "He’s beautiful," you murmur, voice trembling with emotion. "He has your eyes… that same spark. But he’s stubborn, too. So stubborn, just like his father."

Gwayne’s heart clenches at the thought. He can almost see it—an image of a child with your grace and his determination, laughing with that carefree joy only children possess. But there’s a shadow over the image, a darkness that steals the warmth from it.

"He doesn’t know who I am, does he?" Gwayne asks, though he already suspects the answer.

You shake your head weakly, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "He thinks… he thinks Daemon is his father. That’s all he’s known." Your voice wavers, cracking under the weight of the truth. "It was the only way to keep him safe. The only way to protect him while the world tore itself apart."

Gwayne’s jaw tightens, a surge of anger rushing through him, not at you but at the situation, at the cruelty of a world that forced such a choice upon you. "Daemon," he says bitterly, the name dripping with resentment. "He took everything from me. He even took him—our son—and you."

You turn your head slightly, struggling to focus on him, your expression full of regret. "He did it to protect him, Gwayne. As much as I hate it, I can’t deny that. In a world like this, with war tearing us all apart, who else could raise him? Who else could keep him alive?"

Gwayne’s throat tightens, the fury and sorrow tangling together in a knot that’s hard to unravel. He wants to argue, to curse Daemon’s name, but deep down, a small part of him knows you’re right. That’s what stings the most. Daemon was the one with power, the one who could shield the child from the dangers that lurked on all sides, even if it meant poisoning the boy’s mind against the truth of who he really is.

But he’s not ready to accept it. Not yet. Not when there’s still a chance to change things, to reclaim what’s his.

"I’ll find a way," he vows, more to himself than to you. "I’ll get him back, Y/N. I’ll make sure he knows who his true father is."

You smile weakly, though your eyes are growing heavier, the strain of staying conscious taking its toll. "You always were driven, my love," you murmur, voice fading. "Just… don’t lose yourself in anger. Our son deserves better than that."

Before he can respond, your eyes close again, and your body goes limp against him. Panic seizes him for a moment, but he quickly checks your pulse, relieved to feel the faint but steady beat beneath your skin. You’re slipping back into delirium, but you’re still alive. That’s all that matters now.

He looks ahead, squinting at the road as he spots the faint outlines of a small village in the distance—a neutral settlement, one of the few places where banners don’t fly for either side. It’s a place to rest, to gather supplies, and perhaps even to find someone who can tend to your wounds. But it’s not without risk. Enemies could be lurking anywhere, and he knows he can’t let his guard down.

As he rides toward the village, Gwayne’s thoughts swirl with plans and possibilities. He needs to get you to Dragonstone, needs to confront the truths that have been hidden for so long. But more than that, he needs to find a way to reunite with the son he never knew, the son who now lies in Daemon’s grasp.

And as the horse plods steadily forward, the determination in his heart hardens into something unbreakable. He will see this through, no matter what it costs. Because even in the face of betrayal, war, and loss, there’s something worth fighting for—a future that’s still within reach.

And he won’t let anyone—not even Daemon—take that from him.

[ellecdc]

hi lovie !

I ADORE your writing and get so excited everytime you post 😭

I wanted to ask if you’re okay with writing a poly!marauders x reader fic where r is an overthinker and over analyzes small things. It brings r to think the boys are mad at reader so r begins to close off— happy ending w/ healthy communication, just them reassuring r

🤍you can absolutely ignore this!!

thank you baby! I'm so glad to have you here with me 😭 thanks for your request 🫶

poly!marauders x fem!reader

CW: insecurities, overthinking, belief of conflict, eventual healthy communication skills, men behaving rationally (that's how you know it's fiction) jkjkjkjkjk 👀

You knew you were overthinking; you could actually hear yourself spiraling as you chewed aggressively on your cuticles. You ran through every single interaction you and the boys had throughout the past few days and couldn’t help but come to the same conclusion every time.

They were mad at you.

And even saying it aloud made you feel silly because, really, what could you have possibly done that would have managed to upset all three of them without knowing about it?

There had been a few disagreements between the four of you since the beginning of the relationship; more specifically since you had joined the relationship. 

The boys, it seemed, went through most of their more volatile fights prior to you meeting them. 

But that didn’t mean there weren’t arguments. There were always differences of opinions, some hurt feelings, and learning everyone’s sensitivities and love languages etc. didn’t happen overnight; it took time.

One thing you were particularly thankful for was that you had yet to ever feel like the boys were ‘ganging up’ on you. Your argument always stayed between you and the participant of the conversation and everyone else opted to stay out of it unless they felt they could provide some helpful insight. 

But for all of them to be mad at you without some big blow up happening? You couldn't imagine what would have caused it.

It wouldn’t have been anything you said or done to Sirius, as he was a very head strong person who preferred to face things upfront and head on. If you had done something wrong to Sirius, you would have heard about it. 

James was a wild card since he usually wore his feelings on his sleeve, but he also had a tendency to paint a smile on his face and smile through the pain in order to keep the peace. 

Remus was often stoic and the voice of reason, but you also knew he could be incredibly sensitive.

Oh god... had you done something to upset Remus? You must have...it’s the only rational explanation. He’d likely be telling Sirius not to say anything to you, and since Sirius struggled in biting his tongue, it would make sense that he opt for the “if you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all” route.

And though James did tend to smile through the pain in order to keep the peace, he was also fiercely protective of his people – particularly when those people don’t seem inclined to stand up for themselves.

Oh god. Is this why they asked you to come over tonight? They wanted to talk to you...no, they wanted to break up with you. 

By the time James opened the door, you had forgotten you even knocked. He was all bright smiles until he took in your form – he was disappointed to see you. 

“Hello, honey. Come on in.” He said, though his words were stilted, sounding oddly scripted and rehearsed. 

“Hey sweets!” Sirius called from somewhere in their flat, “have you eaten yet?”

“Yeah.” You called back, having to clear your throat when your voice came out gravelly. You could feel James’ eyes burning a hole into the side of your face.

“Moony’s running late from work, but he’ll be home soon.” James announced as he ushered you into the living room.

You scanned your surroundings, cataloguing everything like it might be your last time in here.

You found signs of Remus’ love of trinkets and the oddities everywhere you looked, as well as signs of James and Sirius feeding into that by bringing him home things they’ve found as well. There’s a small pewter fox you bought on your trip to the coast sitting on one of the shelves of his bookcase.

Picture frames lined the walls; evidence of Sirius’ love for photography, his camera, and his favourite people.

And the god-awful pillow James found at an estate sale and insisted it have a place on the couch. It was ugly, it was lumpy, it didn’t match with anything else in the space, but it was James’ and he loved it.

Sirius came bounding into the room and rubbed at James’ shoulder affectionately, pecking a quick kiss to the crown of your head in hello before breezing by to head to the kitchen.

“He just got a home a few moments ago, he’s gonna heat up some leftovers for him and for Remus when he gets home.” James explained.

“Do you want any, doll?” Sirius called.

“No, I’m okay. Thank you!” You tried your best to sound upbeat while a horrid feeling settled in your stomach.

James seemed to feel just as awkward as you did; keeping his eyes dutifully on you whilst trying to appear that he wasn’t. His leg bounced anxiously underneath him as he leaned onto the arm of the grandfather chair he sat in – across the room from you.

It may as well have been an ocean worth of distance with the way it left you feeling.

Sirius returned to the living room a few moments later and made himself comfortable on the other end of the couch from you, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table after placing a glass of water directly on the coffee table. You wanted to chide him, knowing Remus would have him by the bollocks if he saw, but you didn’t know if it was your place anymore.

Sirius asked you how your day at work was and you offered him a vague “oh it was alright. Long. How about yours?” which started him on a long tangent about some of his more colourful customers today and how tiresome he found people in general. He and James shared some quips and anecdotes about worst moments in their various retail experiences, and you thought about how much you were going to miss this.

“Okay, what is going on?” Sirius snapped abruptly, causing your head to shoot up so quickly that you heard it crack.

“Huh?” You asked sheepishly.

Sirius’ brows furrowed as he stole a glance at James before turning back to you. “You’re being weird...what’s going on with you?”

But you didn’t get a chance to answer when the sound of the front door alerted everyone to Remus’ arrival. You hated that you visibly tensed at the sound of him moving down the hall.

“Hey bubs. Is she here?” You heard him ask James, since you and Sirius couldn’t yet see him nor he you from his position in the hall way.

You felt your face scrunch up miserably and quickly brought your hands up to shield your face, choking out a silent sob.

“Yeah.” James responded, though his voice was but a whisper as Sirius added a “whoa” at the same time. 

“What did you guys do?” Remus cooed and made his way towards you having spotted your distress.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered miserably, both for whatever you’d done to cause this conflict between the four of you and also for your embarrassing display of emotions.

“What are you sorry for, dovey?” Remus asked softly as he knelt in front of you, gently taking your wrists and coaxing them away from your face. 

“For upsetting you all.”

Remus’ brows furrowed beyond their worried state and into a more confused state as he turned to look at the other two boys in bemusement. 

“Well, I don’t think any of us are happy that you’re so upset, love, but we’re not upset. You don’t have to apologize.” He pressed.

“I don’t think that’s what this is.” James input from his place across the room.

“I’m sorry. I’m not quite sure why you’re mad at me, but I’d like to talk about it with you and I promise not to do it again.” You cried, sounding disturbingly and embarrassingly close to begging.

“Mad at you? Is that why you’ve been such a weirdo tonight? You thought we were mad at you?” Sirius asked incredulously.

“Don’t call her a weirdo, Pads!” James chided, standing from his chair. 

“Why’d you think everyone was mad at you, dove?” Remus asked, ignoring the squawking of his boyfriends behind him as he forced you to hold eye contact with him.

“I... I don’t know, I guess things just felt kind of off this week and then...I don’t know.” You admitted dumbly. “And then I got here and, it just felt weird.”

“I’m sorry, angel.” James apologized, suddenly beside you having taken to sitting directly on top of (a very petulant) Sirius. “You seemed distressed and... I got nervous. Usually, Rem is the better one at handling these things, I wanted to wait until he got here to broach the subject. Sirius, though, has the tact of a bull.”

“So, you were just going to let all of us sit here awkwardly until Remus got here to save the day, huh? Not on my fucking watch.” Sirius groaned as he positioned himself to kick James not only off of him, but off the couch completely. This caused Sirius’ glass of water to topple off the coffee table and onto the rug below it.

“Nice going, Prongs,” Sirius spat victoriously from his place on the couch, “look at the mess you’ve made.”

“It wasn’t even my cup!” James defended.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that wasn’t on a fuckin' coaster, Sirius.” Remus reproached darkly, tossing the dark-haired boy a glare over his shoulder.

Sirius just smirked and then winked at you. “There you go, dollface, now everyone’s mad at me instead.”

“Awe, Pads!” James cooed from the ground before launching himself back onto Sirius. “Look at you, taking the heat off our pretty girl.”

Remus shook his head in exhaustion, but you could see a fond smile ghosting his lips from his place before you.

“Trust me, dove. You’re the least of our problems.”

You chuckled wetly and wiped the tears (and more embarrassingly, the snot) from your face. “I’m sorry. I feel rather silly now.”

Sirius, having given up on his instance to be the little spoon between he and James, looked around James’ broad frame in his lap to face you. “How about this; if we’re ever upset with you, we promise to tell you. If we haven’t said anything; it’s safe to assume we’re not mad. Okay?”

You nodded in agreement.

“And...” James continued. “Next time you find yourself feeling like this, maybe you can tell us, too?”

You nodded emphatically. “Yes, I promise. I’m sorry.”

Remus kissed the backs of both of your hands and stood from his knelt position in front of you.

“No more sorry’s, dove. We’re all good.”

James stood from Sirius’ lap to place a warm kiss to the space between your cheek and ear and whispered another apology for your being upset.

“Hey, Moons?” Sirius called.

“Yeah?”

“Are you heading to the kitchen?” He called with the sort of smirk that caused you and James to exchange a suspicious look.

“Yeah.”

“Can you grab me a glass of water, please?”

“Fuckin’ hell Sirius get off your arse. And use a sodding coaster.” Remus bellowed from the bedroom.

“See? You’re the least of our problems.” James repeated, stamping another kiss to your cheek. 

[edenesth]

[2:36 PM]

"Holy crap, I'm stuffed! I feel like I've eaten enough to last a week," you exclaimed, embracing your bloated belly in amazement as you glanced at Seonghwa, who was still happily devouring his meal. You'd been indulging at the all-you-can-eat buffet for hours, yet he showed no signs of slowing down. "Thank god one of us has a black hole for a stomach; I swear, Hwa, you make every buffet meal so worth it."

Your boyfriend chuckled, "You say that now, but I bet you'll be craving convenience store snacks by tonight like always," he teased, feeling a rush of affection for you as you stuck your tongue out playfully.

It was your fourth anniversary together, and he had let you choose the venue for your date. You opted for the Japanese buffet near your shared apartment, knowing it would make him happy. And it did; he was over the moon, utterly in love with you for your thoughtfulness. So much so that he could propose to you on the spot. In fact, he had a ring ready and was eagerly planning to seize this perfect moment to pop the question.

As he finished his bowl of ramen, his heart warmed at your immediate response—reaching over to delicately wipe the corner of his lips with your napkin. You smiled, asking, "Was it good?"

He nodded, holding your hand and planting a kiss on your wrist after you finished cleaning his mouth. "Everything tastes better with you around, my love. Now, be a good girl and wait here while I go get us some desserts."

You giggled before exclaiming, "Ooh yes, I want to come with you!" as you began to rise from your seat. But he panicked and stopped you, "N-no, please, let me take care of you today. I'll be back real quick, I promise," he said before darting out of the private room you had reserved. He had plans to hide the ring in one of the cakes for you to discover later, and if you were to go with him now, he wouldn't be able to execute his plan.

With a satisfied hum, he admired how perfectly he had hidden the ring in one of your favourite cakes. Oh, he couldn't wait to see the look on your face when you realised what was inside. Walking back to the room, his heart raced and his mind swirled with all the possible romantic outcomes of this surprise. If all went well, you'd be his fiancée by the end of this meal.

It's going to be perfect.

"Yay, you got all my favourites! Thank you, Hwa, you're the best," you cooed, pulling him down by the collar to give him a chaste kiss on the lips before allowing him to return to his seat across from you.

He grinned, biting his lip excitedly as he watched you begin to eat, "Anything for you," he murmured. His attention was momentarily diverted when his phone chimed with a few texts from his friends in their group chat. He clicked open to find a couple of silly memes, offering a quick 'Haha' reaction before returning his focus to you.

"Hwa, say ahhh," you said, holding out some cake to feed him. Absentmindedly, he looked up from his phone and accepted the bite. "Thanks, babe. You enjoy it, I'll get more later," he said, his words slightly muffled as he spoke with cake in his mouth.

Wait a minute, I—

His eyes widened in horror as he realised the ring was in his mouth. He was dangerously close to swallowing it when he attempted to push it back out, causing him to choke violently and startling you in the process.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" you rushed over to his side immediately, lightly slapping him on the back. Your concern intensified as his body shook. "Cough it out, Hwa!"

And he did, eventually spitting out remnants of the cake onto his trembling hand. In the midst of the mess lay a shiny object. You didn't know what it was, but one thing was certain: it clearly was not meant to be in a cake. "Wh-what's that? Why would they put something like that inside a cake? Are they trying to harm someone? This is unacceptable; I'm going to file a complaint."

"N-no, babe!" he called out, gently grasping your wrist and pulling you close before you could scold anyone for his own mistake.

"But Hwa, you could have died—"

He sighed, "It was me, I put it in there." He grabbed a few new napkins and cleaned up the mess in his hands, and your eyes rounded, your breath catching when you recognised what was in his hand. It was a ring you had once jokingly shown him, telling him how pretty it was and that you would love it if he could propose to you with it. You didn't think he would actually do it.

"God, this went way differently in my mind. You were supposed to discover it on your own; it was supposed to be so romantic, and I ruined it all because I'm an idiot—"

You silenced him with a kiss, pressing your lips to his and cradling his face while you caressed his cheeks, tears tracing down your own. Pulling back slowly, you rested your forehead against his with a soft chuckle.

"Well, I think it's rather romantic."

"I swear, I'll redo it properly—wait, really?"

"Mhm. Oh and, yes, I do."

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Look what you made me do, @itstheghostofmypast😭 this was a little something my pookie and I came up with while we were talking hehe ilysm istg pls never stop feeding me these ideas.

Anyways, hope y'all enjoyed this random little timestamp and as always, let me know your thoughts! <3

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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[okiedokrie]

All Is Fair In Love And War Pt.1

Summary: Joshua is nothing if not determined. If he wants something, he'll get it; not that he even had to try before. But sometimes, like Icarus, he flies a little too close to the sun. But hey, all is fair in love and war!

Characters/Pairing: Aphrodite Incarnation!Joshua x Fem!Detective!Very Mortal!Reader

Genre: smut, fluff, crack, angst if you really squint

AUs/Trope Info: Greek God!AU, Partners In Solving Crimes, Strangers to Lovers, "time isnt linear" trope, "holy shit im kind of obsessed with you" trope

Word Count: 3,194 (Full fic is around 10k)

Warnings: Depiction of a crime scene (gore, blood, gun, conspiracy), depiction of drug use, character death (major and minor), smut warnings in the next part

Rating: 18+

A/N: I decided to split this into parts since I'm not confident ill be able to finish this within the deadline, this is part of the The 13 Gods of Olympus: A Seventeen collab hosted by @beomcoups and @wooahaeproductions! This is just the first part, so if you enjoy it, please consider signing up for the taglist. Thank you!!

In the summer of 2000, Joshua Hong was almost five years old. People always commented on how pretty he was for a kid, that he’d surely grow up to be a very handsome man.

Which is why it was a tragedy when he died from a freak truck accident.

Yes, Joshua Hong died at the age of five. For like, 10 minutes.

The doctors called it a miracle - a small child should not have survived a whole six of the twelve truck wheels, but somehow he was resuscitated, much to his parents’ delight.

This incident caused two things to change dramatically - Californetherlands now has stricter trucking laws and Joshua woke up to memories of literally being Aphrodite.

Throughout the years, from that fateful summer day to the present day, Joshua flopped back and forth between believing that the memories were just fever dreams and genuinely considering that he may be a reincarnation of the goddess. But ever since he got to hone his powers, he’s been more inclined to believe the latter.

By the age of 28, he has mastered the art of seduction. No, not sleeping with people constantly. It was more so the art of getting people to say ‘yes’ to everything he asked of them.

This made Joshua a very powerful and influential figure in Los Amsterdam; You see, the way he dealt wasn’t by out-witting people or being richer than them. He dealt in favors. If you wanted to be a popstar, he’d introduce you to a famous producer, and get you a record deal that would solidify your career - all for the low, low price of free.

In turn, you’d owe him, like the many powerful people who owed him large favors.

Joshua found himself in downtown LA, in the club that he owned, just under his penthouse. He enjoyed playing the guitar and performing for his patrons, everyone seemingly captivated by his voice, or his beauty, whichever one caught their attention first. He finally strummed the last chord of his song, enjoying the applause of the crowd as the DJ started to play the usual club music. Just as he was about to retreat to the bar, a feminine voice stopped him.

“Joshua! Hey!” She said, hair bouncing over her new fur coat, jumping excitedly, calling him over.

Joshua smiled widely at her - she was one of the people he had helped start her career as a singer. He didn’t do much other than introduce her to the CEO of her current label, it was her natural talent that got her this far.

“Ah, Diana, good to see you!” He said, going over to meet her in a friendly hug, the kind that didn’t touch at all. “How has being a singer treated you? Any good news?” He said, making small talk with an old acquaintance.

“Oh please,” she started, her new haughty attitude showing, “It’s all over the news! I just got nominated for a Grammy!” She said in a sing-song tone. Joshua just nodded Truth be told, he didn’t really have much interest in pop music, but he did try to match her enthusiasm.

“That’s great! I knew you’d make it big.” he said, remembering the first time she came to him, a girl in clothes that almost looked like rags, now decked out in every designer brand you could think of. “So, what brings you back here then? Surely you already have everything you ever wanted?” He said lightheartedly. Even if all of Joshua’s connections owed him favors, it was quite uncommon for them to come back to him after having achieved their dreams.

“Well,” She said, her old, meek bashfulness coming to the surface. “I just wanted to see you again, to thank you for what you have done for me.” She tucked a hair behind her ear. “And I know no matter what favor I do for you in return, I could never break even for just how much you’ve impacted my life. So, thank you, Joshua.”

Joshua genuinely felt relieved to hear her say that - usually, people’s pride and greed got in the way of them acknowledging those who truly helped them along the way, but as he suspected, this girl still had a soul so pure. “Let's get some drinks by the bar and chat some more, yeah? My treat.” He offered, which she gladly took, the conversation between them flowed naturally, Joshua enjoying her tales of success.

It was an hour after the club closed that Diana decided it was time to head home. Joshua offered to see her off, like the gentleman he was, and so they walked to the sidewalk, her hand around his arm.

Joshua opened the taxi door for her, offering her a few bills in cash to cover the fare, “It was nice seeing you again, hopefully, you’ll make time to catch up with me in the future.” he said through the taxi window.

“Yeah, I hope I get the chance to see you again soon. Goodnight Joshua.” She said as she rolled up the taxi window.

Joshua watched the taxi drive until the end of the block, and everything seemed to be going smoothly. Then, another car intercepted her in the intersection.

It happened so quickly, too quickly for Joshua to even register the new car’s window sliding down, holding a gun out to the taxi Diana was in. Gunshots echoed through the street, the sound of tires popping and glass shattering but all Joshua could make out was the sound of two sets of four tires screeching against the concrete. Diana’s taxi collided with a nearby lamppost, the taxi flattening and curling around it.

That was the last time Joshua saw her alive.

It was all over the news “Beloved Grammy-nominated rising star, Undyne, passed at a downtown intersection in a successful assassination.” Headlines went crazy with her story, telling her life before her short-lived success as a pop star.

The police were on her case, and the street cameras identified a black car with a non-existent plate number. they couldn’t find the people who owned it, but they did have enough evidence to call it a homicide.

Joshua, being close to the scene at the time when it happened, was one of the key witnesses to the whole case.

Currently, Joshua is in the waiting area of the police station, waiting for the detective on the case to lead him to the interrogation room where he will give his statements. He was just mindlessly scrolling through his phone when a voice snapped him out of it.

“Mr. Hong? Correct?” One of the officers asked him. He nodded to confirm it, repeating his full name. The officer just nodded too, “Okay, please follow me. Detective L/n will be there to ask a few questions.” He turned to the direction of the interrogation room, Joshua trailing behind him quietly.

The officer stopped in front of a door, “Here we are, just head on in.” He said, nodding at him. He walked into the interrogation room, the chilly air making goosebumps rise on the surface of his skin, the thin cardigan he wore did nothing to shield him from the cold. He took a seat at the chair facing the door, poking at the cold metal table as he waited.

“Good Morning Mr. Hong, I’m Detective L/n. I’m here to ask you a few questions, everything said here will be transcribed as evidence for this case, do you consent to this?” You started, taking the seat in front of him, your tone was very professional, as he expected, you didn’t even bother with pleasantries other than introducing yourself, which didn’t bother Joshua. He confirms his consent verbally, politely smiling at you with his hands clasped over the table.

“Great, I’d like to ask a few questions about you first.” You said, taking out your folder for the case, “You’re Joshua Hong, born on the 30th of December, 1995. You own the club downtown where your place of residence is also. Is all of that correct?” Joshua confirms all of the information is correct.

“You can just call me Joshua, by the way, Mr. Hong makes it seem like I’m someone important.” He said bashfully, scratching the back of his neck.

You just nod, writing something down in your notebook, “What was your relationship with Diana Kamatayan?” You asked, reviewing the official file which states that she is one of Joshua’s ‘clients’.

You were well aware of how the king of Los Amsterdam does his business, favors for favors. That’s how he got this far, and if you don’t hold up your end of the bargain, he’ll take away everything he gave you. You knew asking for Joshua’s help would make this investigation go quicker, but that would mean you’d owe him.

Owing Joshua Hong anything is a dangerous position to be in.

So while you have him in this interrogation room, you’re going to try to milk every bit of information out of him while it’s free.

“Well,” he started, getting comfortable in his seat, “She was one of my clients, I’m sure your file on me already knew that. Other than a professional relationship, I don’t really have one with her. That night was the first time I’ve seen her in a little over a year, actually.”

You nod, the timeline matches up, “And why did you meet her that night?” You ask next, trying to get more out of the nature of this last meeting.

“She approached me while I was in my nightclub. I was just about to turn in for the night when she came up to me to catch up. She thanked me for introducing her to a producer and wanted to catch up.”

Joshua really wasn't giving any information for free, as the interrogation went on you could only collect information you already knew. He didn't reveal any more than a simple google search did.

You drop your file folder onto the table, where Joshua's posture remained calm, cool, collected across from you, the small, charming smile still on his face.

“Did you get what you needed, Detective?” Joshua asks politely, tilting his head with his query.

“All I got was everything we already knew.” You sighed, rolling your shoulders in your seat. You turn in your seat, facing Joshua head-on once more. “Joshua, you are one of the most powerful and influential men in Los Amsterdam. We need your help in solving this case. All our leads have gone cold. We need your connections.”

Joshua smirked, the only time his expression changed from the relaxed and polite smile he had for the rest of the interview. His posture relaxed, leaning forward over the table, he placed his palms down on the cool metal surface, and said, “You do know what that would mean, right? The price you’d have to pay?”

You nodded, “I know all too well.”

“Asking me for a favor would mean that you’d owe me, do you think you can afford to pay that price?” He raised his eyebrows, you’d think your eyes deceive you when his irises glowed a soft gold—tilting his head in an almost teasing manner, taunting you.

Your breath hitched as you looked back at the one-way glass, knowing your co-workers were watching every detail of this interaction. “I promise I’ll deliver what I owe you. Just- please help us.” You said, not being able to look at him directly in the eyes.

He straightens his back once more, his polite smile returning to his face. “It’s settled then, I look forward to working with you Miss.”

Driving through the streets of a somewhat more affluent neighborhood, you stop in front of a well-known party den. There are plenty in Los Amsterdam, but this one was popular because of their ‘free-love’ policy.

Essentially, if you want to fuck, every surface is available to borrow for the duration.

You don’t look forward to entering the den, especially since you don’t know which surfaces are good to touch, but your partner beside you seems to be relaxed and content to visit such a place.

“God, I haven’t seen Jackson in forever. I hope he’s still having the time of his life here.” Joshua said with his bright eye-smile. You turn back to him, eyebrows furrowing in disgust. How could he find a place like this enjoyable? You don’t understand how the minds of party-goers work.

“Okay, how exactly is visiting a party den supposed to help with our investigation?” You finally ask him, he refused to elaborate on how relevant this location was when you met up with hiim, or during the entire car ride to said location.

“Well, Jackson still owes me, and he’s Diane’s ex’s first producer. If there’s anyone with a motive to get her killed, it’s her ex. I asked him to get Johnny drunk enough to pass out in one place. Now you have the perfect stage to corner and investigate him!” He said, with a smile on his face as if his plan didn’t just open up a whole new can of worms for you.

“You do know it’s illegal for me to just interrogate him without a warrant right? He might lawyer up if he figures out we’re onto him.” You said running a hand through your hair.

“Which is why I got you this,” he pulls out a skimpy party dress and matching heels from his duffle bag, “We blend in with the party-goers, that way you’re not interrogating him, you’re just having a conversation.”

“Joshua Hong you are insane.” You said, tone raising, “I’m not walking into a sex den looking like a hooker!”

“Don’t worry, we’re just trying not to stand out, please, just trust me.” He said handing the outfit over to you. You think over his words, it would be wise not to draw too much attention to yourself. If you made it obvious that you were a cop you’d have to resort to improvising.

You were never good at improvising.

Joshua gave you the decency to turn away while you changed, he was already in his usual relaxed suit that already made him look like a pimp, so he was already dressed for the occasion.

You both step out of the car, your heels clacking on the pavement below you. How Joshua managed to find your shoe size is in itself impressive, but you don’t have the time to dwell on that.

You both enter the bustling house filled to the brim with people indulging in their vices, whether it was alcohol, drugs, the ‘free-love’. It was a mess of bodies and fluids that you’d rather not inspect closely.

Joshua expertly weaved through the crowd, parting it like Moses did to the red sea. He didn’t have any difficulty locating Jackson Wang, the host of these parties.

“Jackson!” Joshua called out, the man was sitting in one of the many loveseats, a can of beer in hand and two ladies under his arms, giggling and getting very comfortable with him.

Jackson squints over the flashing lights, eyes widening in recognition after seeing Joshua. “Joshua! My man! Glad you finally made it! Got to say though, that favor of yours was an odd one. But you’ll be able to find him in my room. You know the way.” He waves him off, resuming to talking to the women clinging onto him.

You follow after Joshua, quickly climbing a few sets of stairs to get to the third floor, the entirety of the third floor was just Jackson’s room. He made sure to lock the door behind the both of you when you guys arrived.

The floor was far quieter than the floors below you, and less of a mess than them too. This room felt like Jackson’s actual home, and not like a party den.

Joshua spots Johnny stumbling around the room, nursing a liquor bottle- a few of them.

“Joshua we can’t interrogate him when he’s like this, he can barely even stand!” You said, waving your arms in front of you to point at the inebriated man.

“That’s not a problem, watch this.” Joshua takes long and purposeful strides toward him, once he finally reaches him, he takes his face in his hands and stares directly into his eyes.

You watch in awe and slight confusion, until Joshua speaks up, “You want to tell us everything we want to know, and you will be sober as a priest while you do so.”

Suddenly the haziness in Johnny’s eyes faded in an instant, his brown eyes now have a golden ring around the irises, like a puppet on a string.

“What did you need to know?” Johnny says, no longer under the influence of alcohol.

“Joshua, what did you do to him?” You ask in slight horror.

“Nothing illegal, don’t worry about it.” He said, “Continue your questioning on him, detective, if we spend any more time here Jackson’s gonna think we’re having sex here.”

Not wasting any more time you ask Johnny, “Are you aware that Diane Kamatayan had been assassinated? Do you know any information about that?” Johnny squints before his eyes widen in recognition, “Diane, yeah, her, we dated a bit. I was obsessed with her. But she broke it off when she got big. Yeah, I’m pissed, but instead of doing anything healthy with my time I just chose to shit-talk her on Twitter and drown in alcohol. When I heard the news about her passing, I lost it, went straight here where Jackson just kept handing me bottle after bottle with no questions.”

You look at Joshua, raising an eyebrow, not much of a motive if he didn’t even contact her directly in the entire duration of their time as exes.

You shake your head, back to square one then.

“It didn’t help that she started dating the old geezer of a producer of hers.” Johnny said, eyebrows furrowing in frustration, “That whore, she probably got big because that sleaze of a producer gave her banger after banger for sucking his dick or something, tch.” he said, clicking his tongue and crossing his arms.

“I’m pretty sure it was him who killed her too.”

You and Joshua look at each other in shock, eyes meeting for a second, almost as if communicating telepathically.

“Why do you think that?” You ask, cautious around the increasingly irritated Johnny.

“He’s always been a greedy bastard, worked with him before. Wanted to claim all the royalties of my song, so I sued him. Pretty sure he got threatened by how rich Diane was getting for that hit.” Johnny spat, distaste seeping into every word he said, “Now Diane is dead, and the bastard is getting married to some Slavic model, most likely cashing in all those royalty cheques.”

You and Joshua nod at each other. Joshua snaps his fingers, it’s almost as if snipping a puppet off its strings, the glow around Johhny’s eyes dims and disappears, suddenly slumping over the seat, stumbling drunkenly like he did when you found him.

“Okay, we have a lead.”

[anyamaris]

Morning Glory

Summary-Your best friend comes over after an unexpected visit from your cheating ex, and a night of comfort produces something unexpected.

Pairing-BFF!Yeosang x F!Reader

Genre/Trope-Smut, non idol au

Word count-4.5k

Warnings-Mentions of cheating (ex), some emotions due to break up, vulgarity, adult language, unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, some iffy touching while you're both half asleep, NSFW 18+

A/N-This is for the Language of Flowers event for CultofDionysusnet! I hope you enjoy, I've been struggling a bit with writers block so I'm happy to put something out for this event! Make sure to check out the other entries!

Tags- @cultofdionysusnet @ksmutsociety @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @yoonguurt @shinestarhwaa @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @starlitmark@millennial-fangirl @ericssmile @wooahaeproductions@changbinslovelylegs @yeosxxx @millennial-fangirl @starillusion13 @duchesskaren @minki-moo @woosanbby

@cafekitsune Thank you for banners and dividers! 🤍💜🤍

It’s been three months. 

Three whole months…

Three months full of shock, pain, sobbing, anger, guilt, and finally, acceptance.

A quarter of a year of your life spent lamenting the almost two years spent with someone who threw away everything without a second thought.

They say time is all you need to move on, but what they don’t tell you is the amount of regret that is left lingering.

How the hindsight can hurt you more than the breakup itself.  

How you blame yourself for the time wasted, for the signs you never saw.  

How you start to rethink the things you thought you knew.  

Words like, “I love you” and “I promise” become both fleeting and weighted.  

All of these thoughts swirl in your mind as you stare into the face of the man who caused this turmoil.

No, that’s wrong.

All he did was cheat on you, lie to you and walk away without batting an eyelash.  

Suppressing a cynical laugh, you just stare into the face of your betrayer.  

His eager smile doesn’t evoke the tickle in your tummy like it used to.

His handsome, sheepish face doesn’t make you want to rush into his arms like before.

“Hi.” 

Once upon a time, that simple line would have you opening the door further and inviting him in, your deceitful mind telling you that he must have a good reason.

Unfortunately for him, the you that used to cave to his ridiculous lies and excuses doesn’t exist anymore.

“What do you want?” Your voice is harsh, a frown tugging at your lips.

You’d be lying if you said he didn’t evoke any emotions in you.  

You feel the hand on the door shake as you grip it harder, anger coursing through you.

“I…I missed you.  Can I come in to talk?” He asks, the arm behind his back slipping around to present you with a small bouquet of flowers.

“Look, I brought your favorites.”

Frowning at the offering, you can only blink at them. 

Not once has he given you flowers. 

Not one time.

Scoffing, you stay where you are, blocking the entrance.

“My favorites? Do you even know my favorite flower?” 

Though they are pretty, the roses are far from your favorite flower.  The very fact that he chose red roses too was so cliche.  

You wince at the rage making your voice shake.  

Dear god, please don’t let him think I’m getting sad over him.

“Uhhh…flowers are flowers, right?” He asks, shrugging a shoulder and brushing his hair back.  

“Look, I don’t know why you came here of all places.  But you’re not welcome.” 

You begin to close the door in his face, but he lunges forward, stopping you before you can escape him.

“Wait-I know we didn’t end on the best of terms-” 

Your laugh halts him momentarily, rolling your eyes at his choice of words.

“-look…all couples take a break-” he’s continuing but you’re done listening.

“Stop. One, we are not a couple.  We broke up.”  You hold your hand up to halt his retort.

“Two, you cheated on me.”  

He frowns at your fingers as you hold them up, counting his mistakes.  

“But-”

“Three, there is nothing you could possibly say or do that would have me opening this door to you.  I suggest you find someone else’s door to go knock on, because you’re not welcome here.” 

You give him a good shove to remove him from the doorway and slam the door, leaning back against it as you hug yourself.

Jumping at his loud pounding, you can only let out a shaky sigh.  

“Go away, seriously.”

“Look, I made a mistake, we love each other-” 

You snort at his words, cutting him off. 

“The only person you love is yourself, so fuck off.”  

Walking away from the door and his ridiculous protests, you make your way to your shower to wash off the ick from seeing him again.

Emerging from the bathroom, you listen for a few and smile as silence greets you.  

“Finally.  Idiot.” you mutter, but you sigh as you feel your body shake from the encounter.  

The sheer audacity of him, showing up with roses like that would immediately evaporate all of the pain and hurt he caused-

Your mind whirls as you clench your fists.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a ding from your phone.

Hesitant to check it, you slowly make your way to look at the screen.

Letting out a soft sigh, your body relaxes slightly as you read the text from your best friend. 

“If Wooyoung asks, I have absolutely no idea what happened to his favorite hoodie.” 

Your lips curl as you shake your head, drying your hair as you remember the fate of said hoodie.  

“Sure, you definitely didn’t use it as a mop when you spilled that drink last week.”

“I have no idea what you mean.” You get back and you just sigh, tossing on some pajamas. 

“Sure thing, no idea.” you respond, chewing your lip as you ponder if you should tell him about your unwanted visitor.

Yeosang had been there through everything, through the relationship, through the breakup, through the aftermath.  

He’d been your rock, and now….

Now you selfishly wanted to vent at him, to have him comfort you and calm you down.  

“Is everything okay?” he sends and you blink at the text.  

“I swear, he reads my mind.” you hum as you stare at the phone.

Giving in to your instincts you just send him one word.

“No.”

A moment passes, then your phone lights up, ringing with the familiar song you have set to him.

Before it can ring twice you answer, holding the phone to your ear without a word.

“What happened?” His voice washes over you like a warm blanket, the deep tone seeming to uncork the stress, the distilled pain you’ve been holding in.

Instead of answering, when you open your mouth, all that comes out is a sob.  

“Hey-hey-what happened? Are you hurt?”  His words are laced with panic and you collect yourself enough to reply.

“No…I’m okay, I think.  He showed up.  At my door.”  

Silence greets you from the other end, and a slight rustling is heard as you do your best to try to calm down, covering your mouth with your free hand.

Before the call cuts out, he utters a simple phrase that has relief flooding through you.

“I’m on my way.”

“Shh, it’s okay.  It’s okay to cry, really.” Yeosang is saying, his hand rubbing your back as you both sit on your couch.  

He’d gotten over to your place in record time, so quickly that you thought the pounding was him coming back.

“I’m sick of crying, Yeosang.” You get out, leaning into him as he nods at you.  

His eyes are full of concern, and what you hope is care and not pity.  

Of everyone, Yeosang was the last person you wanted to pity you.  

He meant far too much to you for that.

“What the fuck did he even want? Showing up at your door-” he blurts out, clenching his fist on his thigh.  

“He…I think he was trying to crawl back here, his other girlfriend must have kicked his ass out.” You tell him, wiping at your nose with the tissue in your hand.

You smile as you watch Yeosang purse his lips, not saying a word.  

He’d never truly expressed what he thought of your ex, and you had a feeling he’d never actually liked him much.

At least one of you was smart, you think.

“He even brought flowers.  Fucking roses, like they would fix everything.  Fucking asshole.” 

Yeosang just listens, taking the tissue to replace it with a fresh one.  

“The first time he ever brings me flowers, and he brings me roses after three months of silence and cheating and-” you just shake your head, irritated at the whole situation.

“He said they were my favorite too.  I wonder if he even remembers anything I like.”  You continue, finally feeling a bit of relief after venting to your friend.

Yeosang just sighs, reaching out to brush a tendril of hair back, holding up the glass of water he’d gotten for you when he arrived.  

As you drink, he just watches you, finally speaking after you set it down.

“Come on, let’s watch something.  It’ll help you relax.  How about your favorite? Princess Bride?” He asks, grabbing the remote to scroll through your many apps on the television.

“You’re sick of that one, aren’t you?” Eyeing him, you can’t help but smile.  

A small stirring of your old crush on him teases your mind, but you push it down.

Must be my stupid emotions, you think, watching as he puts the movie on.

He holds out his arm, allowing you to snuggle against him as you normally do.  

“If it’ll make you smile, I’ll happily watch it twenty more times.”  He grins, tossing a blanket over you as you make yourself comfortable on him.  

Watching the beginning scene, you look up at him.

“How come you never say anything about him when I complain? It must get old.” You ask, blinking at him.

Yeosang just looks at you, his honey brown eyes studying you as he seems to think about his answer.

After a moment, he just shakes his head.

“I want to hurt anyone who hurts you.  So anything I have to say isn’t going to help what you’re going through. Now pay attention, Buttercup.” 

He boops your nose as he gestures to the screen, smiling as you let out a soft laugh.

His words have an effect on you that seeing your ex doesn’t and you push them down as you get lost in the movie with your best friend.

The first thing you become aware of is the distant rumble of thunder.  

Then, the soft pattering of rain upon glass, soothing you as you inhale deeply

Stirring, you adjust as you try to get comfortable.

The blanket over you is soft and warm, as is the body underneath you.

With your eyes closed and sleep hazing the edges of your brain, you snuggle deeper into the strong arms around you.  

Drawing your leg up, you nuzzle your face into the soft material beneath it.

A familiar scent tantalizes your senses as you inhale deeply. The light scent of blackberry, bay leaves and sandalwood soothes you, and you can’t help but cling to the fabric of his shirt as you bury your face into his chest.

Yeosang.

Your sleep addled brain whispers the name as you press closer to him, your body moving instinctively before you can think anything through. 

Was he always this…built? Where did these muscles come from?

Your hands seem to have a mind of their own as they skim down his side, splaying out over his stomach.  

A soft murmur greets your ears, a deep humming stirs beneath your cheek as his arms tighten ever so slightly around you.  

Was he awake? 

Your hand stills, feeling your cheeks heat as the fog slowly clears from your brain.  

Slowly, you take stock of where you are, how you ended up here.

You’d fallen asleep on the couch watching the movie, you realize.

You were laying half on his chest, his arm wrapped around beneath you with your leg draped over one of his own.

His other arm was tossed over your side, your cheek pressed to his chest above his heart.  

The rhythmic thump under your ear is calming, and your lips twitch as the soft sigh that escapes him as he slumbers.  

Pervert, were you really trying to feel up your best friend? You think to yourself.

In his sleep, no less.

It’s been far too long since you’ve been intimate with anyone, and your body seems to have a mind of its own.

Traitor. Perverted, horrible traitor.

It’s fine, just errant thoughts.  Nothing you hadn’t thought before of him.

As long as they were just thoughts.

But it was different right? Being pressed so close to him, feeling the way your bodies fit together. 

How if you just slipped your hand down-

Your mind takes a moment to command you to stop, freezing you as his breath hitches.

You close your eyes, trying to calm the racing thoughts in your mind, the throbbing need that seems to be increasing the longer you lay like this.  

You stiffen as he shifts slightly under you, his hand splaying out on your side.  

A heat flushes your cheeks at how he lifts his leg, his thigh pressing between your legs as he adjusts, drawing out a small involuntary whimper from your throat.

Dear lord, you think, this is NOT helping your plight.

It didn’t help that the sleep shorts you were wearing had shifted slightly during your sleep. 

Not to mention that you weren’t wearing panties… 

Now the thin fabric was riding up, the way you were laying on them teasing at your core as your hips instinctively rock against his thigh before you can stop yourself.

Your heart seems to beat in your throat as you glance up at him, the angle you’re at allowing you to see his pretty lashes in the moonlight.  

Was he sleeping? Did he know how you were reacting to his innocent movements in his sleep?

Did he know what a bad friend you were, thinking about getting off on him as he slept beneath you?

You study him as his lips part, his tongue darting out to wet them.

At the way his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.  

At the curve of his pectoral muscles…

Your gaze just slowly takes him in, raking down his body.  

You just need to extract yourself from him, make a quick exit to your room.  

To take care of this aching need that is driving you to these depraved thoughts.

Decided, you shift to pull back from him, slipping your hand up his chest to find the outside of the couch, intending to crawl over him.  

Before you even find a spot for leverage, his hand slips down the curve of your side, your hip, grasping your ass gently.  

“Mmm…” he murmurs and you freeze as he shifts again, causing you to bury your face into his neck.  

“Yeosang?” You manage to squeak out, inhaling sharply as his hips tilt.  

“Uhh…?” His sleep rasped voice brushes in your ear as he seems to come around.

Dear god, he’s not even awake and he’s-

The sharp intake of breath is paired with his hand slipping along your ass as he hikes your thigh up over him.

Fuck…you were straddling him.  

Double fuck, you were definitely very aroused from this and you needed to get away quickly before-

Suddenly, as his hands grip your cheeks to rock you against him, you realize how very hard he is.  

“Fuck-” He hisses as you draw back, your lust clouded brain screaming for you to wake him completely, to tell him that it’s you; that he’s-

Every thought following flies from your mind as his hand slips between your ass from behind, his fingers taking advantage of the way your shorts have shifted to expose your very wet core.  

There’s no time to muffle the moan that leaves your lips, no time to stop your legs from parting eagerly; no time to stop your hips from jerking against him, rubbing your naked sensitive nub against his rough jeans. 

Your cheeks burn with a mixture of lust and shame, knowing his body is likely reacting instinctively.  

“Yeosang-” You try again, pulling back slightly to see if you can wake him, to stop this-

His dark brown eyes meet yours in the dim moonlight, his lips parted as his fingers slip further down, fingertips dipping daringly into your now clenching cunt.

For a moment, all you can both do is look at one another as you hold tight to him, his eyes searching yours.

The silence is broken by your shameless whimper, your hips grinding down against him as he gives you a little grin.

“Should I stop?” He asks, his voice hoarse from sleep, though he continues to tease at your hole with shallow dips of his fingers.  

The hand on your ass squeezes gently, making it extremely hard to think.  

“Yeosang, I-” you try to say but then one of his fingers slips further into you, causing you to moan softly.  

“Is this because of me…or were you having a wet dream?” His eyes dance as he watches your face, seeming to enjoy the fact that you can’t form proper words.  

“You-but…oh god…” you whine as the hand on your ass slips over to yank your shorts farther from your crotch and you can hear a slight tearing noise as the material gives.

Something about the hungry look in his eyes, the soft rip of your flimsy shorts, the way his finger curls as your walls pulse around him tips you over the edge. 

His eyes widen as your mouth smashes against his, but they flutter softly as his tongue meets yours eagerly.

Your fingers twist up into the soft strands of his hair, tugging gently as a small growl leaves his throat.  

“No-don’t-fucking-stop-” you manage between breaths, your free hand slipping down to tug at his shirt.

Desperation suddenly takes over, and before you know it, his fingers part from your aching cunt and he’s lifting your hips, both of you clawing at the button on his jeans.  

You watch him as he watches both of your hands, his chest rising and falling rapidly.  

Following his gaze, you can’t help but bite your lip as he manages to finally unzip, then push down his pants.  

You can’t help but reach eagerly for his thick, rigid length as he tugs his boxer briefs down.  

All logical thought is gone as you hear his low, deep groan as your fingers slip along the silky skin of his cock.

There’s nothing slow or tentative about the way he grabs your hip, the way you guide him to your throbbing entrance.  

The way you cry out as he pulls you down, the way you stretch deliciously around him.

The quiet room fills with the combined sounds of your moans, the slapping sound of your bodies meeting as his hips tilt and thrust, guiding your own as you reach up to grab his shoulder.

“That’s it, that’s it baby,” he groans, and you can feel the material of his underwear gathering your arousal as you leak down on them.  

You shudder as one of his hands yanks up your shirt, awkwardly trying to help him shed the offending garment.  

Tossing it to the side, his lips waste no time latching onto your nipple, his teeth scraping the sensitive flesh as he licks and sucks.

“Oh my god-” you cry out, feeling the tight knot in your abdomen ache. 

His mouth leaves your breast with soft pop, his breathing harsh as he looks up at you, his hips never faltering to meet yours.

“Yeah, baby? You like my cock?” His voice is deep and shaky, his pupils blown from lust as he grips your hair to force you to look at him as he thrusts even harder up into you.

“Fuck-Yeosang, I fucking love it-please-!” your brain fogs as his arm slips around your waist, holding you tight as he begins to set the pace.  

“Please what? Hmm?” He rasps out, his own moans peppering his speech as his fingers dig into your hip.  

“Tell me, baby.  Tell me what it is you want, hmm?  I’ll give you everything you want, you just have to ask-”

His words pause as he dips down to take your other nipple into his mouth, sucking harshly at the bud.

“Harder-” you cry out, “Feels so fucking good, I’m gonna-” 

At your words, he suddenly sits up, tipping you onto your back as he follows, guiding your legs around his hips.  

He somehow manages to keep himself deep inside of you, his form hovering over you now in the dark room.  

He tears his own shirt off before he’s pressing himself against you, your breasts squashed between you both.

“As you wish, Buttercup-” He growls, slipping his hand under your ass to tilt your hips up, his own setting a pace that leaves you breathless.

The sight of him above you, the feral gleam in his eyes as his cock seems to drag your quivering walls in all the right ways has your vision blurring at the edges.

Crying out, you rake your fingernails down his back and the way his eyes roll at the sensation has you rushing quickly towards alleviating the ache slowly bubbling within you.

“Yeah? Right there? You look so fucking good taking my cock, baby.” His deep voice paired with those words begins the first quiver of your impending orgasm.

“Right fucking there, harder-please-don’t stop, Yeosang!” You scream as you feel his body react to your words, to your slick walls pulsing around him.

“Come for me, that’s it-” he moans, the motion of his hips beginning to stutter, each thrust punctuated by a word. “Let me-see you-come around me with that-tight little cunt-” 

Your mouth opens on a long wail as you clamp around him, your entire body stiffening as you quake under the sensation.  

Your fingers grasp at his back and shoulders frantically as you chase your high as his pelvis grinds down into your clit, every nerve ending in your body seeming to fire all at once.

“Fuck, you look-so fucking beautiful-” his erratic breathing and moans suddenly hitch as he thrusts hard and deep, a long whimper escaping his throat.

His body stiffens as you feel his cock pulse over and over as he spills hot come within you, your name falling from his lips like a mantra.

Slowly, all of the noises die down as the early morning silence creeps back in.  

The thunder and rainfall from before has quieted.

Only the sounds of your labored breathing, of his muted pants and grunts as he slowly collapses on top of you hang in the air.

Bringing a shaking hand up to comb through his damp locks, you lean your cheek against his.  

“Yeosang?” You murmur, greeted with only a small whine in reply.

“Don’t say it.” He finally whispers, burying his face into your neck.

Confused, you pause your movements through his hair, your hand stilling on his back.

After a moment you merely reply, “Say what?”

“That this was a mistake. That you’re sorry.” he responds quickly, pulling back to look in your eyes, his own shifting and studying you.

“But I-”  you start, frowning but he cuts you off.

“I don’t care if you need comfort, I don’t care if you need to get your ex out of your head.” his eyes are pained, and you can only listen as he rambles.

“It doesn’t have to be anything if you don’t want it to be, but I’ve-” 

His throat works as the morning sun starts to illuminate his beautiful brown strands, kissing the honey of his skin and making him appear as glorious as any fictional god.

“-I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.”

His words take your breath away, and you can feel tears pricking your eyes as you blink in shock.

Brushing back his hair, you swallow back  a small sob as you bring his lips to yours, reveling in his confession.

The soft yellows and oranges start to light the room even as time seems to stop, the night's events culminating in this wonderful revelation.

By the time you part, the day is fully upon both of you.  

Clothing litters the area around you and you can feel the mixture of your releases leaking out from where he’s finally slipped out of you.  

His brow is furrowed as he takes you in, and you can see the hint of worry in his eyes as you begin to speak.

“The only thing I’m sorry about…” you say, feeling your cheeks heat, “...is getting touchy with you in your sleep….”

The silence lingers between you for a moment before it’s broken by his silly little giggle.

He leans down to peck your lips, rolling you both to the side as he cradles you in his arms.

“Is that all?” he asks, his voice deep and low as he nuzzles your cheek.

You close your eyes, your heart surging as his words finally seem to actually hit you fully.

“You…you love me?”  you ask him, pulling back to look at him fully.  

His cheeks stain with a hint of red as he nods, his eyes darting away.  

Cupping his cheek, you tilt his head back so his eyes meet yours once more.

“My ex has nothing to do with anything, Yeosang.  Long before him….it was you.”  

He blinks as he processes your own confession, then his lips are on yours once more.  

Not many words are spoken after, throughout the day and into the evening as you both finally express the long held back emotions for one another.

When you get a delivery of morning glories the next day at work, you swear everything you’ve gone through has been worth it.  

Of course, you think, wiping your eyes.  Of course he knew your favorite flower.

Pulling out the card, you can only let the tears roll down your cheeks at the words that stir your very soul.

“From the moment you came into my life, I knew it was always going to be you.  From your favorite food to the way your eyes dance when you laugh, I’ve memorized every aspect of you.  The good, the bad and everything in between, it’s always been you.  I’ve weathered the dormancy of winter while I waited for you; now that the spring has begun, let’s tend this garden together and watch our love bloom. As the flower implies, this is my promise.  Whether your petals are open to warm yourself in the morning sun, or withered by the evening, you will forever be my morning glory.”

[kjdkive]

a nice surprise - l.jn

warnings: fwb, smut, nasty, fluffy, will make you feel single even if you're not, grammar mistakes

a's/n: thinking of making a part two cause this type of jeno is making me feel crazzy. also, part two?

you shouldn't be really doing this, grabbing the key of his apartment jeno told you the location of in case of an emergency, but this is a real emergency and he isn't answering your texts, neither caring about the fact that you're ovulating and going crazy just at the thought of his touch. well, it's not like you have never been to his place alone, you've been here more times than you'd like to admit. but right now, you needed him like you needed oxygen. you don't think he will be angry, or will he? no, i mean, how could he say no to a horny-you in the middle of his living room?

"i guess i'll make myself comfortable." you layed on the couch and turned on the tv, played a random movie but you couldn't pay attention, you were just only thinking of jeno. 

40 minutes have passed and there's still not any signs of him, not even a reply to your text you sent him three hours ago. all of a sudden, you hear the locks of the door make sounds and you prepare yourself for maybe the best, maybe the worst. who knows? 

you watch the man you've been waiting for almost an hour now not notice you, he seemed stressed... maybe that's why he was not replying and just needed to be alone... did you fuck up? he dropped his backpack to the floor and took off his shoes and shirt, leaving himself with just the gray sweatpants he was wearing. three words: holy jesus fuck. 

"jesus." he said, getting shocked from the fact he hadn't see you there. "what are you doing here?" 

"hi, sorry, i grabbed the secret key you told me about and let myself in. i don't know, you weren't replying to my texts and i wanted to see you." 

"you wanted to see me..." he asks smiling as he sits down beside you "or to fuck me?" he grabs you by the waist and sits you down on his lap. 

"mmm, what is the correct answer to that right now?" you caress his hair and smile at him too. "is everything okay? i know letting myself in was weird but when you got here i noticed something was off." 

"aw, you worry about me, maybe you will get some." 

"oh my god, are my tactics working?" you ask, laughing. 

he kisses you as he grabs your face to have the control on the kiss. it's soft and not too short. 

"nothing to worry about, baby." he moves you again so both of your legs are on his sides. "i'm struggling to understand a class and i'm not having enough time to study because of my job, so yeah, it's just the normal stress of everyday." 

you give him a peck on the lips and cup his face with both of your hands and you just give him a soft look, you truly did not want him to stress out, he's the smartest, hard-working boy you know out there, he deserves a 100% scholarship and everything paid, not this. 

"you're really smart, though. like you make me feel really dumb sometimes when you start speaking engineer nerd lingo, it's also really hot." he giggles and you scratch his hair softly while still looking at him, you just feel his hand caress your lower back and sometimes your legs. "besides, hard work pays off and you know that. your job will let you grow on your career and well, we all need a major. just know that this stress will not last forever." you give him a kiss again and another one on his nose. 

"wow, you really will say all that to get some dick." he tells you and you smack his bare chest. 

"fuck you." 

"yeah, you're really trying." he laughs and stops to stare at his hands touching your legs, then your butt and at the end your waist. you get startled when he pushes you towards him lightly. and he kisses you, fervently, the way you've been wanting to get kissed all day. the "problem" right now is that he has never kissed you this passionately. the way his lips move against yours is making you feel something you've never felt before, not with him nor any men you've ever been with. 

"thank you, princess." he tells you. "you know i'm just joking, i do really appreciate your words and support." his eyes were shining as he looked at you. "and honestly, you being here was a nice surprise." 

"it was?" you ask him as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and you grab his hand. he just kept staring at you, making it seem like he was admiring every single detail of your face. 

"mhm." and you just stayed there, looking at each other. you were still holding his left hand that was placed on your face and gave it a little kiss. as he sees you doing that, he doesn't let go of your hand and just softly gets your hand to his mouth for him to kiss it. "kiss me, y/n." 

and you do what he tells you to. you kiss him with the same passion he had just kissed you with a few seconds ago. he introduces his tongue into your mouth, playing with yours. it's getting more desperate second after second, his hands that were placed on your waist were now going down to your butt to grab it and force you to grind on him, feeling him very close as you were wearing a dress so he had easy access. one of your hands stayed on his shoulder and your other hand slowly traced a line down his abs so you can grab the hem of his sweatpants.

he kept guiding your hips with his hands and stopped kissing your mouth to move to your neck, giving wet and sloppy kisses on it as he grabbed your hair and tugged it down to give himself more space to kiss, suck and lick.

"come on, baby, keep grinding on me." jeno whispers on your ear. "you're making me feel so good, princess. look so beautiful, so pretty."

his praise was just the little help you needed to moan loudly on his ear and

"that's it, baby, do you feel me? do you feel my hard cock?"

"yes, jeno, i feel it." you moan.

"just for you, princess, only for you, always for you."

you tug jeno's hair as you moan on his ear, making him understand you had just came with the way your legs were shaking. you think you're in for a long ride tonight.

[batboyblog]

In the almost month since the election I’ve gone through so many emotions. I’ve felt hopelessly crushed, furious, overwhelmed, and just plain exhausted. I hate that this has happened, and that the orange shitstain is gonna put the most awful people in power. I’m not gonna lay down and die, but I’m just so tired of this. That man has slowly drained the hope out of this nation for the last ten years and I’m sick of it. I know this didn’t start with him, but he certainly emboldened blatant authoritarianism. I know every generation feels at some point the world is ending, but at this point it feels so difficult to try to have hope for the future. I believe we as a country can be better than this, but I’m not sure at the moment how we can get there.

I know the feeling, the tired part any ways.

in 2016 I was in the Hillary campaign and like we talked about HOW! bad Donald Trump could be, Hillary had a tweet "we can't trust a man who can be baited with a tweet with the nuclear codes" and for us inside the campaign we took all that very seriously for us it was not talk we meant it, we believed he was really dangerous, deeply corrupt possibly criminal already, and totally unqualified and unfit. And we said so, and no one took us seriously, I always remember a nice middle aged couple stopped at our office to get some signs they weren't from the state and were just passing through. But Democrats, supporters and I was trying to push them to maybe volunteer (as was my job) and I talked about how a Republican President (Ie Trump) could appoint up to 4 Supreme Court justices and they would surely do away with Roe V Wade. And They literally rolled their eyes at me and said "I know thats a good line but do you really believe that'd happen? they'd do away with Roe?" yes, yes we did.

So any ways I believed Trump 1.0 would be every bit as bad as it turned out to be, it was even on January 6th a little worse. So I went through the emotional roller coaster in 2016

2024 has been just sad, and tired.

But I do feel something growing in the guts of my soul, rage, pure burning rage. Someone once said that the thing that fuels every good activist is rage at the world for being imperfect. I don't know if thats right or true.

But it's whats getting me up in the morning, we offered hope, and kindness and a better world and they threw it back, well fuck 'em. This is my patch of dirt on god's good earth goddamn it and they can't fucking have it without a fight, I'm a miserable cockroach motherfucker, I will out fight them, out last them, and win and stand on the ashes of their fucking fascist dreams.

more to the point, I did feel like giving up, and saying "well they picked this, eyes wide open, now we all suffer, w/e" but I don't get to give up, Bill Clinton said "there are no permeant victories or defeats in politics" and he's right, this is the call and the cause, to struggle unendingly for the better world and if you're very lucky you live to see it turn a little and a new battle for the better of man kind than the one you spent your life on be engaged. For me personally, my nephew is trans, he's 17 looking at colleges, picking states that are safe for him. I don't have the power to protect him, I did EVERYthing in my power to stop this, because of him, and for him, I'll be out there again and again and again. I wish deals with the devil were real because I'd just go to hell so he could be safe and happy, but sadly only hard work and uncertain outcomes are real.

I have no easy answers, no clean hope of a better world or a better America about to be born from the bitter ashes of this election. Harvey Milk said "I know you cannot live on Hope alone, but without it life is not worth living" And the last 10 years, the forces of darkness have across all of society, wearing many different faces tried to take hope out of our souls, and its brought us here. My favorite speech is by Ann Richards and I quote the end a lot, but here I'll quote something she said way way back in 1988

This Republican Administration treats us as if we were pieces of a puzzle that can’t fit together. They've tried to put us into compartments and separate us from each other. Their political theory is “divide and conquer.” They’ve suggested time and time again that what is of interest to one group of Americans is not of interest to any one else. We’ve been isolated. We’ve been lumped into that sad phraseology called “special interests.” ------ No wonder we feel isolated and confused. We want answers and their answer is that "something is wrong with you."  Well nothing's wrong with you. Nothing’s wrong with you that you can’t fix in November! We've been told -- We've been told that the interests of the South and the Southwest are not the same interests as the North and the Northeast. They pit one group against the other. They've divided this country and in our isolation we think government isn’t gonna help us, and we're alone in our feelings. We feel forgotten. Well, the fact is that we are not an isolated piece of their puzzle. We are one nation. We are the United States of America.

in the 2020s we're doing it to ourselves but its helping the cynical just as much. Each of us trapped on our phones in our own personal self made hell, well not self made, there are algorithms feeling you stories designed to make you feel like shit, because when you feel like shit you stay on-line, and keep doom scrolling. We're divided and our culture, the way we speak to each other it only makes us more divided, we're rubbery and inauthentic.

So I guess, you want hope, get out there and find something you believe in and fight for it, there's a local candidate near you I'm sure you can believe in, a ballot measure, a local group, something, and break the isolation we have to talk again because if we don't, well its already eaten us alive and we're trying to get out of the whale.

[tojisun]

like everything with john, it ends with a quiet admission.

"i'm tired."

the words fall from your lips like needles dragging along the curvature of your throat. they puncture, aching with their vengeance, until they slip into the open space, never to be taken back. never to be unsaid.

you do not look at him when you say this, incapable of facing your limits. your shortcomings.

you are a fraud dressed in fluffed up costumes, preaching about true love and never-ending devotion but look where you are right now—straining behind the stained walls of this relationship, splintering at the fleeting weight of his affections.

and you thought it was poetic how flowers could grow in between cracked asphalt.

the reality of the situation is like this—john loves you.

but it's not enough to silence the doubts and the jealousy, because you are jealous. you're not a jealous person, god knows many tried you, but this thing with john—this relationship that ever so fluctuates—it is troubling. insufficient, truly.

your friends told you to be better; that people who are jealous are just insecure about their relationship and yes, you are. that is the crux of it; that is what drags the voices from the pits of your stomachs to spit to each other’s face, spewing with vitriol because john has made you this beastly being, always pawing for his attention, always begging for the scraps.

he's left you rotten and all hollowed-out.

an empty opera house.

“is it because o’mary?” he asks, quick to find the rot in your core only to prod at it. gawk at it. to marvel at its festering like he had not been the cause of such unravelling.

is it because of mary he asked like you had not spent sleepless nights crying to him, telling him that you do not feel good when it was just the two of them. that you do not want whatever it is they have—hell, his friends had called her his work wife; crooning to each other like you were just a pinned butterfly stuck behind glass, watching as they coloured the details of john’s life beyond your grasp. of his love outside of your arms.

is it because of mary he asked like he hadn’t just told you of mary’s love for him, the confession she’d whispered as he held her in his arms after she had lost her pet to an illness. like he didn’t tell you, in awed whispers, how mary told him that he was the best thing that ever happened to her; the loveliest thing in her life like john was hers to begin with. like john wasn’t wearing a gold band on his ring—the promise he’s made in that courthouse, when the two of you were still too young and obsessively in love.

is it because of mary he asked like he hadn’t just told you, in angered puffs, that he couldn’t have rejected her then. she was in pain, he’d said. i couldn’t do that to her, he’d added like it was mary whom he married. like it was mary who he needed to protect and reassure and cherish.

so yes, it is because of her. but also, it is because you are tired.

tired of asking for his love. for his devotion. for him to choose you, come what may.

“just,” you begin, too weak for anything more. “sign the papers, please john.”

even when you are leaving him, you are still unable to stop yourself from pleading to him for his kindness. for his grace.

he stares at you, pinched lips and flared nose, and you stare back because this man—this john that stands before you—this isn’t the man you’ve loved. not the one who loved you back.

your john wouldn’t have hurt you this way; he would have listened to your whispered confessions, see the ache in your admission, and move himself away from mary because why did it matter if she had loved him? your john wouldn’t have cared for her affections; your john would have only cared for your own.

your john wouldn’t have—

your john wouldn’t. and now he is gone.

so you walk away from… this man amidst the suffocating silence, feeling nothing wash over you.

they said divorce feels like liberation; that it feels like the start of something kinder and better and brighter. but this just feels like a bruise on your tender skin—something blooming, pain so muted that it hurts only when you poke it.

and like how you were with all your previous bruises, you cannot stop poking at this one too.

[muniimyg]

7: the yes or no // series m.list

note: most patient reader award goes to u !!! 🥹 literally from my car accident to my month long trip to these past adjustments weeks ,, it’s been an absolute pleasure for me to write and conclude this couple (they have 1 drabble left before full completion) otherwise thank u all for ur love n support w this fic ,, mwah 🤍

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo

//

"J-Jungkook? Wha—”

“Sorry,” Hobi rushes from his car to Jungkook’s side, steadying his poor balance and looking at you with pleading eyes. “I texted and called you, but you didn’t answer—I had no choice.”

“It’s 2AM,” you point out, opening your arms for Jungkook, who crashes into you quickly. You wrap your arms around him as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. His cheeks are warm against your skin. He breathes you in, completely immersed in your scent. He murmurs your name, and you hush him, “I’m here. You okay, Jungkook?”

Jungkook hums in response.

In disbelief, you feel a bit stressed with this whole situation. Here you are: standing outside your apartment in pajamas and bunny slippers, holding a very drunk Jungkook. It’s a starless night, with only the lamp posts and your bedroom window light on. Despite the dim light, you see Jungkook as if he were daylight.

Before you can get more context, Jungkook suddenly coughs. You pat his back to ease it. When his coughing fit settles, you turn to Hobi. “What happened?”

Hobi gives you an ‘are-you-kidding-me’ look. Hurriedly, he takes out his keys and locks his car, turning back to you with a rather pissed-off expression. “Hmmm… I’m not too sure… Let’s ask your boyfriend-not-boyfriend, shall we?”

“Hobi…”

“He was trying to leave,” Hobi sighs, running a hand through his hair. He recalls what happened perfectly, having sobered up a while ago. “I told him to stay, but he wanted to go home and sleep so he could come over first thing in the morning. He said you two were going to work things out and end the yes-or-no bullshit. So, we celebrated, and… he was really happy, ___. I didn’t want to ruin that for him. I mean, how could I?”

“Yeah, okay... But Hobi, he can barely stand up—”

“What was I supposed to do?” Hobi cries, frustrated. “He refused to go home unless we came to you first. Trust me, I drove him home and did three rounds around your neighbourhood to get him to fall asleep or throw up—he didn’t care. The minute he saw your apartment, he got out of the car. He wants you, and he’s so stubborn—seriously, ___… What was I supposed to do?”

“Okay, okay. I'm sorry,” you apologize gently. Hobi takes it as a sign to take a breath. He does so, and you watch his expression relax. “It’s been a long night for you. You did everything just fine; this wasn’t in your control. I’m sorry you got roped into this.”

Hobi shakes his head. “N-no, sorry about that. I just… God, he’s so in love with you it pisses me off. He’s already just as annoying as they come, but now it’s like triple when he’s lovesick like this… And you… You’re one of my favourites in this life. I wasn’t stuck in the middle or anything, but I also hate watching things fall apart between you two—”

“Nothing is falling apart,” you console him. “Only felt like it ‘cause he’s dramatic.”

For the first time throughout this stressful night, Hobi cracks a smile and lets out a tired laugh.

“You two are gonna end up together, right?”

His question catches you off guard.

As you hold Jungkook, you search for words but are at a loss. There aren’t enough words to make an excuse. There aren’t enough words to confess either. So, you stand there and hold Jungkook tighter. Hobi notices and smiles softly.

“Good.” … Is all he says.

It’s all he has to say.

This time, a light laugh escapes your lips as you realize how ridiculous all of this is at 2AM. Hobi doesn’t know why, but he joins your laughter.

With that, a moment passes, and it feels light between you two. Not that it was ever heavy or tense, but it finally felt okay. Over the past few days of you avoiding Jungkook, Hobi tried to understand you and Jungkook’s lifeless mannerisms. It confused Hobi. You’re a great person—one of the best—but he had never seen love captivate Jungkook like this. Ultimately, Hobi was torn… But he did his best and supported you both.

At the end of the day, he wasn’t responsible for your relationship with Jungkook. He wanted you two to be together (which is why he brought up the fact that he had a crush on you in the first place), but he wanted it to happen naturally. He roots for you two, and despite all the shenanigans, he was glad to be here.

“You okay with that parking spot?"

Hobi nods, snapping out of his thoughts. “Yeah. I mean, maybe we should get going… It’s late, and he got what he wanted. We’ll head home—”

“Sleep here,” you command. There’s no way you’re letting Hobi drive tipsy and emotionally exhausted. He genuinely looks like he’s been through it, and Jungkook is in no state to walk more than the last three steps he took towards you. “I’ll set up a bed for you and Jungkook in the living room.”

Hobi accepts, surrendering to his exhaustion.

“Can you—”

“Yeah, I got it,” Hobi reaches out as you pull away from Jungkook. Thankfully, Jungkook doesn’t stumble or put up a fight. As you part from his body, you take a good look at him. His cheeks are flushed, and his eyes flutter closed. They’re a little puffy, making you wonder if he cried along the way. You hate that he probably did. Then, you notice his slumpy posture. He can’t even stand up straight, and something about him practically collapsing into your arms tugs at your heartstrings more than you could have ever imagined.

Hobi remembers he has extra clothes in his car. He usually keeps them there for party nights when he doesn’t make it home. Quickly excusing himself, he leaves Jungkook to fall asleep on your couch. When he comes back up, he asks if he can use your shower and changes.

As Hobi does that, you rush to set up his bed on the floor. When you finish, you lift Jungkook’s head to place a pillow underneath. As he stirs in his sleep, you adjust his body so he lies on his side in case he throws up. His body follows but feels a little too warm for your liking.

“Jungkook?” you attempt to wake him up. “Can you lift your arms? You’re sweating too much.”

“Hmmm?” he coos. “___?”

You push his hair back and watch as his eyes flicker open. “Y-yeah. It’s me. Come on, bebu. Let’s take your shirt off—”

Jungkook giggles.

“Ohh,” he smirks sleepily, “you want me so bad, huh?”

You gulp. “Mhmm.. Come on, bebu. Lift your arms for me—”

“Say it first.”

You freeze.

Jungkook groans, hating the pause. “I t-thought we were done fighting? Come on, bebu. Say it. Say it, please. Say—”

“Want you so bad, Jungkook,” you interrupt him. “I want you.”

Jungkook chuckles, unable to hide how his heart skips a beat.

“So bad?”

“So bad.”

With that, he happily obliges. He lifts his arms (lazily) and you take off his shirt. His chest is exposed, and his skin glows. For some reason, your throat goes dry and—what the fuck.

Your eyes trail to his bare arm. Written and smudged, it reads; if piss drunk please return to ___ (my girlfriend) <3

You stare in disbelief. Your head feels light and for some odd reason, you’re embarrassed. He walked around the party like this? He’s literally such a weirdo.

“Disgusting,” Hobi whines, standing with wet hair and a towel around his neck. You turn to him, gulping at the state he caught you and Jungkook in. “Do I have to stay with him? Like what if you two have morning sex? Aren’t you a virgin? Pretty sure he has condoms in his wallet like a pathetic high schooler—”

“Oh my god!” you throw a pillow at him. He dodges it and laughs at you. Completely ignoring his claims, he rolls his eyes at you.

“Can’t I just sleep in your room—”

You huff, “Fine. Go! You did your part anyway.”

Hobi waves his hand, mumbling goodnight to you two. He mutters some other things you can’t make out but it doesn’t matter.

Turning back to Jungkook, you realize he’s asleep again. You pick up from where you left off. Reaching for the blanket, you tuck him in and set his shirt aside. Then, you get up, lock your door, and turn off the lights. As you make your way back to the floor, you take a deep breath and try to process everything.

It’s been a hectic hour or so… You fear the morning might be worse.

How is everything going to unfold? Should you talk things over breakfast? Do you pretend like nothing happened and see what he initiates? You have no idea.

Truth be told, the ‘break’ was unintentional. The avoiding wasn’t meant to be this big of a deal… It’s only been a few days too! But then again… Maybe you simply underestimated Jungkook’s feelings for you. He’s always been confident and sly, so you never thought he’d be this sensitive and clingy over you. It’s surprising in a nice way… It feels like you know him better.

That’s what you’ve been wanting from him anyway… Honesty. Yet, with this state… Exactly how much more of it could you bear? Him as this mess is the reality of how much you impact his life. It’s crazy, isn’t it? Like, wasn’t this… Just a crush? Wasn’t this just a simple nonchalant confession? How did we get here? How did love bloom amid something so childlike and lighthearted?

Is that what it is?

The feeling of your stomach turning and twisting at the sight of him? The feeling of frustration and embarrassment when it feels like you want more of him and you’re too shy to ask for it? And it’s stupid, isn’t it? Because if we’re being honest; he would give you anything.

As you make yourself comfortable, you’re taken by surprise as Jungkook shuffles and gets off the couch. He joins you on the floor, wrapping his arms and legs around your body. Just like earlier, he buries himself in the crook of your neck. Although you’re taken aback, you don’t hesitate to hold him.

Your fingers find their way to his hair while your other hand rubs circles on his bare back. Jungkook can’t help but feel electricity run throughout his body with every touch.

“Sorry I drank so much,” he croaks, trying his best to get his words out. “Sorry I smell like shit.”

“It’s okay,” you comfort him. “Do you want me to get you some water—”

“Don’t move,” he cries. “Please...”

“Okay,” You relax your body. He does the same. “I’m here.”

A moment passes.

“I’m sorry I kept bothering you. Texting and calling… Coming over like this…”

“Jungkook—”

Sniffing, he mumbles, “and sorry I took your spot and kissed you.”

“Seriously, don’t—”

Yet, ever so clearly he apologizes: “Sorry almond pocky is better than strawberry.”

His apology earns a soft laugh from you. It escapes your lips and Jungkook swears he hears angels singing.

“The only time strawberry was better than almond was when I kissed you. You tasted like strawberries. I liked it. Best kiss of my fucking—”

“Oh my god!” You pull away and cover his mouth with your hand. “I know. You told Mingyu the same thing, right?”

He stays still, boba eyes focused on you.

When you take your hand off his mouth, he blinks at you. “Fuck Mingyu.”

“Shhh,” you hush him.

Then, he continues. “Sorry for lying and tricking you before.”

You shrug. “Hey, it worked. I caught feelings for you.”

“Real ones?”

“Real ones.”

“... Like you want me so bad?”

“Mhmm,” you play along. “Like super real bad.”

Then, Jungkook’s goofy grin twitches.

“Sorry I’m so stupid about all of this.”

“Me too,” you hurry to say. “I’ve been stupid about it too. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jungkook mumbles, acting like it’s no big deal. “Hot chicks are never wrong.”

“Jungkook!” you laugh, hitting his chest. He catches your hand and holds it still. Then, he intertwines your fingers together.

“I’m so drunk,” he confesses with a tired tone. “… ___? Are you gonna break up with me in the morning?”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Should I? Did you flirt with a pretty girl at the party?”

“Fuck no.”

You giggle at his harshness. Poking his cheek, you prop up on your elbows. “That’s a relief… But did you really have to make things so hard for Hobi?”

Jungkook huffs.

“I’m not stubborn,” he claims. “I j-just… I miss y-you, ___.”

Your heart sinks.

“I miss you too.”

“Good.”

“Good…” you yawn, “... Night. Go to sleep, bebu. We can talk more in the morning—”

Jungkook cups your jaw and kisses you. It’s not needy, but it’s gentle and deep. He means it. He kisses you and you kiss him back. How could you not? Being so close to him again makes your heart flutter. Just as he’s about to get carried away, he pulls away.

“Sorry for kissing you.”

You touch your lips. “It’s okay.”

“Don’t break up with me tomorrow, o-okay?”

You snicker at him as he wraps himself around you again.

“Okay,” you fold. “I won’t.”

When you wake up, Hobi is cooking pancakes. 

“Good morning,” he yawns, dancing a little as he flips the pancakes.

Half awake, you ask, “Where’s Jungkook?”

You can only assume he left to get ready and be more presentable before your talk. That or he’s running away from you… But you doubt that. 

Hobi glares at you, frying pan in hand and all. 

“I’m literally cooking you breakfast and you’re asking where your boyfriend-not-boyfriend is?”

You stretch and get up. Folding and tidying the makeshift bed up, you casually ask if Jungkook ate before he left.

Hobi sighs, flipping pancakes. “You’re literally obsessed with him…”

Sneaking up behind him, you poke his sides. He flinches and scolds you not to do that while he’s cooking. You laugh and steal a pancake from the pile. 

“He’s said you’d know where he is. Meet him there at 12PM.” Hobi then passes you a plate with another pancake but this time there’s cut up fruit and syrup on top. Happily, you grab the plate and take a sit at your table to eat. Hobi turns the stove off and joins you. 

Hobi takes a bite and lets his curiosity get the best of him. “Any idea of what he’s talking about?”

“I can only really think of one place.”

Jungkook struggled immensely during those few days when you two weren’t talking. Every text he sent you was met with a cold seenzone, and every call went unanswered. If he was lucky, they were declined. He made intentional visits to the library and your spot under that stupid tree daily, hoping to see you. Yet, the only time he did, you avoided him, and his heart sank lower than any ship.

If he were crazier, he would’ve confronted you and closed the space between you two as early as possible. But he wasn’t here to play; he was here to win. He was in it for the long run and thought to himself that if there was ever a time to prove he could wait and respect your boundaries—it would be now. However, it proved difficult, and although Jungkook is a strong man, his knees always go weak at the mention of your name.

He was done for.

In the waiting, he repeatedly convinced himself to love fully and pour every ounce of faith into dreams of a life with you. He couldn’t deny this felt strange. Of course, it was difficult! Being out of sync with you felt absolutely painful. All he did was toss and turn at night. When he ate, he wondered if you were eating too and who you were eating with. He hoped you were eating well.

God, he was dramatic.

He felt like he was falling apart. Why couldn’t he just figure this out? Was he supposed to apologize? For what? What happened between you two was a mere conversation. Suddenly, after you got your little confession off your chest, you hurried Jungkook out of your place and turned off your phone. He stood outside, confused and completely smitten.

You truly were the most surprising thing to have ever happened to him.

On the other hand, you couldn’t believe how much of your heart you had laid out to him. You’d never admitted any of those things out loud, and to do so for the first time—in front of him—oh my god. You had lost your mind.

You were done for.

Yet, maybe that’s what it takes to find love. To get so lost in it and then to suddenly find it in his presence—it’s indescribable.

When the clock struck 12, the library doors opened, and Jungkook held his breath.

He heard your footsteps getting closer and closer, and his heart raced faster and faster. He had showered for 30 minutes to make sure he was the exact opposite of last night… Yet at this rate, his sweaty palms made him think he needed another 30 minutes… But this couldn’t wait. This was happening now.

Finally.

When you walk in, Jungkook’s gaze softens.

His heart lightens and feels so much relief. You look like an absolute angel walking towards him. He’s in heaven, isn’t he?

Or maybe you are.

The table is covered in sunset colour schemed flowers, each in different vases and spread out. There are twinkling fairy lights in between the spaces. It’s beautiful and romantic—you might cry. Not to mention, he’s also holding a bouquet for you.

It’s perfect.

He’s perfect.

Your hair is perfectly curled, and you’re wearing a white corset dress that made him feel things he shouldn’t focus on. Truth be told, he looks just as good. He’s wearing a linen white button-up short sleeve and slacks that looked so good on him. His hair was even freshly cut (God bless)! Maybe it was your delusion, but you swear you see butterflies flying around him.

“W-wow,” he stutters, taking a step towards you. He looks at you in awe. Your lips curve into a smile, and Jungkook put his hand on top of his heart. “__, I have no words. You’re divine.”

“You got a haircut?” you tease him, extending your hand to ruffle his hair. “Handsome as always.”

He smiles shyly, putting the bouquet down. “Had to. Gotta look irresistible so you don’t dump me.”

You laugh, suddenly feeling nervous about everything. This was all so real… What were you even supposed to do? You couldn’t even differentiate if it felt awkward or if this was just new.

“H-hey,” you clear your throat. “Why is the library empty?”

He gulps. “I kinda… Told everyone at the party I was gonna make this grand gesture here… Pulled some strings with some people and was able to reserve the library privately for us. I mean, at least for an hour—”

“Y-you did what?”

“It’s not that big of a deal—d-don’t think about it too much. Here,” Jungkook offers you his hand. “Come here. I wanna show you something.”

You take his hand and follow him. He walks you two to the corner of the table and kneels. You did the same. He smiles and pats the edge of the table.

“What is this?” you ask.

Jungkook sighs, pretending to be disappointed in you. “You don’t remember?”

You shake your head. “Am I supposed to?”

Jungkook holds your hands and squeezes them. “This was our first moment.”

Your eyebrows furrow together, not knowing what he meant by that. Then, he smiles and explains it to you.

“You dropped your phone because you were surprised at how close I was to you. You bumped your head first, and it was the first time I looked at you the way I do now. I know it because it was the first time I felt what I feel for you now. Then, I bumped my head, and you rubbed my head, leaned in towards me, and that was it.”

“Oh,” you say softly, trying to recall that day. Your eyes lit up when you did. “Oh yeah! Wow, that was ages ago.”

“It was…”

A silence falls upon you two. It wasn’t heavy or awkward. It set the tone. It was perfect.

“Have you liked me for that long?” You ask him rather shy.

“Yeah,” Jungkook answers confidently. “___?”

“Yes?”

He then leans forward and tilts his head. “I’ve been ruining myself… Thinking of ways to give you the grand gesture you deserve. Something good enough to sum up how life-changing and utterly perfect you are to me… How to make you feel like you’re my whole world and for you to—I d-don’t know… I can’t—I can’t think straight. I’ve written drafts for this and I’ve rehearsed every possible line. I couldn’t get anything right, and it took me so long to realize something… To give you what you deserve is to give you my heart. To let you have it and be the man that’s good enough for you to want it… I think I did it, right? I’ve given it to you. Over and over again, and I’d do it over and over again because I can’t fathom that you’ve accepted it. Like you’ve fallen for me like I wished for you to… All you wanted was honesty, and so I need you to know that beneath all the deceit and this confidence is my heart, waiting and loving you this entire time. It’s been honest even when I’m not… And I… I’m changing. I’m an honest man, ___… And as an honest man, I need to confess one thing…”

“Jungkook—”

A beat.

“I am honestly so in love with you.”

You hold your breath.

“So, please don’t dump me,” he chuckles. “Can I please be your boyfriend? I want more time with you. I want you to love me too—”

“I already do,” you can’t help but to interrupt him. “I know I haven’t done everything perfectly either and as much as I appreciate you wanting to do better—I also need to do better. So count me in, bebu. Let’s get it right… Let’s fall in love so deeply I have no choice but to fight for it, to be brave for it, and to accept it… For you, I will.”

Jungkook leans in and cups your cheeks. He kisses you for the first time as your boyfriend. You kiss him just as sweet and deep—nothing is better than this.

epilogue

Though there were still things you two continue to work on and discuss over time, that moment was perfect. It aches, really. To remember how young and confusing love is… But to also laugh with the love of your life and feel butterflies for the first time is something you wish for everyone.

Now these 7 moments are mere fleeting memories. Yet, they still feel so warm and familiar to you. They bring you so much joy and nostalgia. They remind you of the goodness of each other’s company and hearts are (which was important and useful for every couch-sleeping fight that came your way).

It’s so special to see how it all unfolded… How oblivious love can be sometimes. How it gets cold and caught in lies just to please.. How truth reveals itself and has layers of jealousy and forgiveness that await to be embraced. How beautiful love blooms in the midst of friendship, how being with the right person changes you, and lastly; how much more life there is to live when you love all at once.

[boiohboii]

Protective girl (Charles Leclerc x reader)

Inspires by @charles-eclair16 's fic

When fans go too far, yn wants to protect the one treasure in her life

or

in which we finally get to see the roles reversed

N.B: this is been in my drafts for so long, omg! Let me know what you guys think!! WARNING: not proof read, some swear words, might have messed up a date, don't focus on any dates mentioned, this is all fictional anyways. Hope you guys like it

masterlist

Liked by Arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 1,379,064 others

itsmeyn: charles always goes above and beyond for every single fan of his, he tries to take as many pictures and sign as many autographs as possible, but what happened last night was a fucking joke. He doesn't like what I'm writing cause he says that it was just a mistake and that it was fine, but it really isn't, it's so disrespectful and disgusting! He always wants to meet his fans and make them happy only to receive this insanity, him falling AND HURTING HIMSELF because some of you can't fucking wait and be organized like a human being! Charles isn't an animal in a zoo where you race to pet him! He is a human being, he is a son, a brother and a boyfriend! This wasn't just an accident, i have seen these 6 girls multiple times in multiple places! it's so obsessive and so so sick of you to follow him everywhere.... Charles won't speak up because he is Charles and he lives seeing the good in people, but I will tear everything and everyone for his safety, so for you 6 girls you will be hearing from court soon so better prepare a good lawyer you assholes!

Comments on this post have been disabled.

Liked by leclercboy, ynistheitgurl, fuckferarri and 91,739 others

F1_updates_live: Charles Leclerc's girlfriend, YN LN, seen today arriving in front of the UK's courthouse in a red SF9 Ferarri. It had been quite a week for YN as she was seen hitting a fan after the said fan pushed Charles. YN took this fan and 5 others to court, no one knows on what bases but what has come out is that she has won the case which means that Charles and YN have restraining orders against the group.

username: OHH HEEEELLL YEAAAAAHH

username: yn doing God's work

username: yn serving justice

username: that's what we needed

username: hot girl shit

username: the car and suit combo is so fucking hot of her

username: I think this is too much, like these girls just wanted to see Charles

username: @.itsmeyn can we make them 7?

username: another one

Liked by Charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, pierregasly and 617,829 others

itsmeyn: don't blame me, love made me crazy

username: YN IS A FELLOW SWIFTIE?!?!?

username: if I had a nickel for everytime yn and I had something in common I'd have 2 nickels, which is not a lot but it's weird that it's happened twice

username: now I just want her to watch all the charles edits done with a taylor song

itsmeyn: who says i already don't 🌚

username: and I oop-

username: THIS IS THE SWEETEST AND CRINGIEST SHIT EVER!

Liked by wolfffam, maxverstappen1, lance_stroll and 817,629 others

itsmeyn: congratulations to my baby, the love of my life, you deserve it and so much more ♥️♥️

username: FINALLY!!

username: idk how to react, ferarri has let us down too many times that all I know is lose

username: I don't see how he deserves it tbh, all of his results are shit for quite a while , he's only where he is cause he's driving a ferarri 🤷‍♂️

itsmeyn: oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were the one in a formula one car, in a ferarri, that by the words of many professionals is at its worse era. I don't care about you and your opinion but don't state it as a fact, no one can do better with these strategies. I hate to keep saying this but when your own fucking team doesn't have the same dream as you it turns to shit. Even if charles is the only one in the car, it's still a team sport, not a one man sport. Fuck you and your tiny ass brain that can never survive one lap in a formula one car, it'll probably explode cause of all the bullshit in it before the first lap anyway. So next time you wanna talk shit maybe try to do fifth of who you're criticising is doing, I bet that'll shut you up real quick you dimwit.

Liked by leclercpascale, pilotesofmonaco, tswiftyn, and 52,719 others

F1_updates_live: YN LN, Charles' long time girlfriend, seen today fighting Xavi in Bahrain due to his mistake on the radio which resulted in Charles losing his podium position.

username: good for her

username: charles is so lucky

username: I love how she always stands up for him

username: honestly, whenever charles or carlos ignore the strategies they win... I really wanna see more of that.

username: this is just Monaco 2024 GP all over again, yn was so fucking furious (rightfully so) cause Xavi's mistake costed charles a p1 in his home race.

username: this shit was so heartbreaking man

username: I think this was the first time we ever saw yn angry at sabotaging charles, like the most we saw was her holding his hand when crossing the street, making sure he eats first, playing with his hair when nervous, but I've never seen yn make someone literally cry until 2024 with Xavi being her victim

username: pffft, victim, he 100% deserved it

username: oh yeah, definitely. All my homes hate Xavi, like can you not say the strategy properly 😒

[hydrobunny]

breakup songs

tags: fluff! (I promise), established relationship, taylor swift songs

"cause i was there when you said forever and always...you didn't mean it baby," you sang passionately with the car's radio. "i don't think-"

the music stopped suddenly. "i don't like this song," sae itoshi grumbled. "pick something else."

you frowned, turning in your seat to face your long term boyfriend. like a good driver, he kept his eyes on the road, expression passive.

"but i like it," you huffed. "and you said i get aux privileges for the next week."

bright teal eyes flicked over you for a moment. "no."

your jaw dropped. "sae! at least tell me why."

"just pick a new song, y/n." his fingers tapped a steady rhythm on the steering wheel. "or i'll do it for you."

pouting, you opened your spotify. "stupid football players and their stupid egos. so used to getting everything they want," you mumbled.

sae ignored your complaints.

"you better like this one."

for the nth time that day, taylor swift's oh so familiar voices leaked through from the high quality speakers all around the car:

"once upon a time, a few mistakes ago-"

sae's hand jumped up to hit the power button. "we're going in silence."

you sputtered nonsensically. "it's another hour until our destination! what's wrong with my music?"

he opened his mouth and closed it. as you fired at him, sae itoshi shrugged silently.

you leaned back into the leather seats, crossing your arms. you couldn't understand why sae was being so shifty. it's not like he had ever minded your music choices before.

in fact, the pro football player had always let you belt out any song you wished, even joining in with enough pleading. it was only in the past week or so that he'd been more annoyed.

frowning, you chewed on your lip nervously. this wasn't a good sign, was it? maybe sae had finally gotten sick of you- found someone better.

you saw him glance at you again. avoiding any eye contact, you turned your gaze toward your hands.

god, when was the last time you had gotten your nails done? your previous polish - a reddish color that matched sae's hair - was chipping from all sides already. you almost frantically picked at the peeling paint.

"y/n," sae's voice was steady. "leave your nails alone."

you jumped, head snapping towards him. "huh?"

he raised one eyebrow, pointedly staring at your hands.

you reddened. "it's not a big deal- keep your eyes on the road. pretend i'm not here or something."

with a narrowing of his eyes, sae turned back to the road.

it was another three miles before you heard him sigh.

"they're breakup songs," sae muttered quietly.

"what?"

the light in front of them flashed red. with another sigh, sae turned his upper body toward you.

"your music. they're always breakup songs now. that's why i don't like them."

you gaped at him, feeling way too much like a goldfish. "what?"

he stared at you. anyone would have assumed he was as indifferent as ever, but you could see that hint of red climbing up his neck.

sae itoshi was embarrassed.

"you're kidding!" you blurted, grinning like a maniac.

he immediately turned his attention back towards the road, but even he couldn't hide the twitch of his lips.

"you're sad because i sing breakup songs?" you managed out past your laughs. "sae, that's so cute!"

"and now i take it all back," he mumbled.

you leaned towards him suddenly, landing a kiss right onto his cheek. sae cursed, car swerving slightly.

"y/n, what-"

"i love you," you said breathlessly, effectively shutting him up. "and i would never break up with you, no matter what taylor swift says."

he snorted. when he replied, his voice was soft all the same. "i love you too."

"...can i have my music back now?"

sae groaned, but there were no complaints as you eagerly tapped through your phone once again.

"we can leave the christmas lights up till january..."

reblogs & feedback appreciated!!